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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

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Forbearance

Kim Seokjin Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: Give him a break, okay? Finding out his girlfriend’s bias wasn’t him is a pretty hard hit to the man’s ego. He has a right to be a little... possessive.

•••> Pairing(s): Seokjin/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Hey love, I was wondering if I could request a oneshot where the reader is dating Seokjin, but he accidentally finds her old fangirl stuff and discovers he wasnt her bias and jhope was? And ya know he gets all jealous and possessive;) btw I love youu”

•••> Word Count: 4.41k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), forced orgasms, oversensitivity, dirty talk, our jin is a jealous boy, possessive!jin, idol!jin, cursing, alcohol use

Thank you for the request, anon! I thought it was just going to be a drabble, but I guess not! I hope you enjoy :)

~#~

Seokjin called for you from your old bedroom, feeling insecure about going through the things in your closet.

“It’s okay, babe! It should be in there somewhere!” You yelled back, obviously busying yourself with tonight’s dinner before you moved your stuff into your boyfriend’s home.

Seokjin’s lips spread into a tight line, clearly uncomfortable with the action of prying into your life before you met him. He was never one to judge character nor the one to actively seek out every detail about you. He respected your privacy and your boundaries enough to never ask, waiting until you were the one speaking about it.

It was what sparked the relationship between you two in the first place. A respect for privacy and the skill of having patience.

You had met him at a fishing beach; the sun was almost fully set and it seemed that Kim Seokjin needed some time away from the boys and the spotlight.

You were sitting in a camping chair, waiting for the telltale signs of a fish nipping at your line when you noticed the man walking over to the next open slot of shore rocks just five yards to your right.

Conversation was minimal, but being in a setting where patience was what kept a person sane meant that you were fully capable of waiting.

It was strange how you hadn’t noticed it was him. Of course, he wore a mask and sunglasses along with a baseball cap, but Kim Seokjin’s personality was seemingly unique and quite noticeable. The man who sat next to you was someone completely different.

He was quiet, patient, reserved, and outright plain. After a short conversation with him about how the fish were biting that day, you understood that the man went there for quiet- same as you. So you gave it to him.

You just couldn’t help but notice that he continued to sit next to you for the days to come. He would come out every other day or so and sit next to you, regardless of the amount of spots available around. You would talk about the weather affecting the fish, ponder over the current position of the moon to judge the tide, and then resume the silence. It was almost as if you were basking in each other’s quiet presence.

His voice, a familiar tone of inflection, was evasive. It seemed as if he was purposely lowering his voice to distort it, but you could never bring yourself to ask why. Instead, you settled on listening to him speak as his beautiful brown eyes cast a wistful gaze into the bay.

From what you could see, he was handsome. You could see his eyes when he took off his sunglasses at night and the occasional tuft of hair that stuck out from under his ball cap. His shoulders were incredibly broad, stretching every jacket and sweatshirt he wore almost to the extreme.

He sat in his chair like he had run a marathon, slouching so far that his long legs were almost entirely off of the seat. It looked as if the man was dreadfully exhausted.

Light conversation seemed to pick him up from his slump but you didn’t want to press too far, knowing that the man was undoubtedly hiding his identity. You were okay with this, practicing the patience you had learned from fishing throughout your everyday life.

Each time you spoke, the conversation slowly got further and further. The day that you got to talking about what he did for the day, you learned that he lived an active and busy lifestyle. He came to fish for the calm and relaxation- a break away from it.

After a little over a month of meeting with the man to enjoy the silence, he disappeared.

You never got a name; never got an age; you knew next to nothing about him.

You continued to show up in your usual spot, hating when someone else sat where he would, but you couldn’t be rude and tell them to move.

You weren’t going to stop your hobby of fishing just because he did, but it seemed as though your reason for going to fish had shifted. You had gone expecting to see him walk up with his tackle box and fishing rod at his usual time. You only found yourself disappointed when he didn’t.

Several months passed with no sign of your mystery man. Eventually, you had forgotten about him, his presence a mere, fleeting thought whenever you looked at his old spot.

The day he returned, he was almost unrecognizable under the light of the moon.

The cool spring weather had morphed into hot summer evenings and transitioned to chilly, late-summer-early-fall nights while he was absent. Instead of the basic black street clothes of the usual fashion that the young men of Korea wore, he was dressed professionally and warm.

A long, beige peacoat hung from his shoulders in a way that the width of the shoulder seams did not stretch and, instead, looked perfectly fitted as the length fell to his knees. He wore a black turtleneck that was tucked into black skinny jeans, secured into place by a brown belt with a pair of brown leather dress shoes to match.

He didn’t even wear a hat, revealing his light brown hair. All that remained of his old style was the black mask that he wore to cover his face.

The man held no tackle box in his hand; a cooler hung from his fingers and a camping chair was nudged under his arm. In the place of his fishing rod in the other hand was a small bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, thank god.” He breathed. “You’re still here.”

“Of course I’m still here.” You chuckled. “I’ve been coming here for years.”

He sat as you spoke, repeating the same actions with his chair as you had pictured him doing countless times in the past months. Your fishing buddy was finally back and looking as handsome as ever.

“Have you?” He huffed as he sat back in his chair. “I only just found out about this place back in April. It’s quite nice.”

“Yes, it is.” You agreed, turning your gaze to watch the lights from the nearby city reflect off the surface of the water. He wasn’t changing his voice anymore and you couldn’t help but recognize it immediately.

For a moment, you processed his presence- he was actually here. Then, you turned to him again with your eyes trained on the cluster of yellow flowers sat atop his small cooler, attempting to keep your cool.

“What’s the occasion?”

“A celebration of friendship.” He laughed to himself as he grabbed the bouquet and raised it to you, avoiding your gaze.

“A friendship?” You asked, taking them from his grasp and looking down at them. “These are very pretty. Thank you.”

“I figured it’s been a while since we met and you seem to be incredibly kind, so why not be friends?”

“I don’t mean to be rude- I’m totally cool with being friends with you- but I don’t even know your name.” You laughed, hoping that this would finally be the day he revealed himself.

“I’ll only tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Easy.” You laughed. “My name is Y/N.”

“Please don’t... freak out or anything...” He muttered, raising his hand to take his mask off his face. Your heart beat wildly in anticipation.

As soon as he peeled the loop from his ear, your mouth slightly fell open on its own accord and you were suddenly starstruck by the fact that Kim Seokjin sat next to you.

“My name is Seokjin.” He kept his gaze lowered as if he was ashamed of his identity.

“I’m a huge fan.” You were speaking impulsively, unable to think about your words with the beautiful man so close to you. What else could you say?

“Oh, are you?” He asked, slowly lifting his gaze to meet your own.

“I am. It is very nice to meet you, Seokjin.” You were keeping yourself under control and you had no idea how, practically vibrating in your chair.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.” Reaching into his cooler, he plucked out a bottle of soju and two shot glasses. “Care to share a drink over our newfound friendship?”

Grateful for the distraction, you took one of the glasses. “I’d love to.”

Your friendship with the idol bloomed. Under the strict condition that you never told anyone of your meeting spot- not that you wanted to or anything- you and Seokjin would continue to meet up on occasion and fish, sharing a drink or two and learning about each other.

When he found out about your love for his own band, he laughed and teased you for being a fangirl. When he continued to show up after the revelation, it exhumed ultimate trust that you couldn’t resist returning.

The other strict condition of your friendship was that you couldn’t meet anywhere but the beach. Six months of seeing the man you were gradually falling for in one spot became exhausting, but you couldn’t complain. Sure, you couldn’t go out for coffee or see a movie because of the fact that there were eyes everywhere, but you were okay with having your own little secluded paradise away from society.

It seemed that patience wasn’t one of Seokjin’s better traits, because even he came to complain about hanging out with you anywhere away from the brackish water.

One signed confidentiality agreement and an established set of rules later and he was being sneakily rushed into your already open front door so that the neighbors wouldn’t see him. It sort of reminded you of your younger days when you were sneaking a boy in so that your parents wouldn’t catch you.

His schedule wouldn’t allow you to see him more than two times a week, but it allowed for the two of you to retain a certain level of privacy that taught him more patience. Despite the lack of consistency, each time he came to see you sent butterflies into your stomach and a need to grow closer.

It only took a month of him visiting you before the media began getting suspicious of Jin’s whereabouts. His disappearances from his home to undisclosed locations drove the world into speculation of a solo career or a new music video- or a woman.

The more the rumors ran around, the less you saw of your friend.

It was hard to be apart from Seokjin, fully aware of the fact that you were falling for him. The idea that he could possibly have feelings for you was next to impossible to believe; all you were to him was a break away from the fame and cameras. Even as he rest his head on your shoulder with an arm around your waist while you watched a movie from your couch, you found it hard to believe there was a possibility for more.

You had the world in your embrace. How could you possibly ask for more?

A year of being friends with Seokjin proved to be the ultimate trial to test your patience. You never stepped out of line, hardly ever let yourself dream of being with him, but always imagined what it would feel like to press your lips to his gorgeously plump ones.

To say you passed the test was a decently literal way of putting it.

Exactly one year and two months of knowing Kim Seokjin, not including when he was a nameless man who you sat with, was all it took for him to start showing signs of more.

You sat in your usual spots on the beach, drinking soju, when he turned to you and asked if you ever thought of dating him.

“All the time.” You blurted in response, cursing under your breath immediately afterwards at your lack of hesitation.

Instead of responding, Seokjin burst out laughing. He tipped his head back and guffawed to the night sky but all you could do was laugh cautiously with him in confusion. Worry raised in your heart at the chance that you finally crossed the line even as you swooned over his endearing laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” You built up the courage to ask after he calmed a bit.

“I promise you that I am not laughing at you. I’m actually laughing at myself.” He wiped a building tear from the corner of his eye.

“Why?” You asked.

Instead of responding to your question, he turned to you with all hints of joking wiped clean by the serious expression on his face.

“Do you want to date me?”

You stopped breathing for a moment at his question, heart seemingly skipping a beat and fingers gripping your chair tightly in disbelief.

“W-what?” You stuttered.

“Please let me know if I’ve crossed the line, but would you like to go on a date with me?” He grabbed your hand in his and held it close to his body. Even in the cold weather, his hands were as warm as ever.

Kim Seokjin thought he was crossing the line? He thought he was shooting his shot to someone he had a minor possibility of dating? Being patient couldn’t have been more rewarding than in that moment.

“I’d love to.” You smiled.

Of course, the media was all over your first date with the man.

Even from inside the fancy restaurant you sat in, you could see the camera flashes from across the room in your secluded corner. Seokjn simply waved them off and continued to sip on his wine, telling you to pretend that they weren’t there.

For you, the pressure was intense. The entire world sat on your shoulders as they tried to scare you away from the man you loved.

Despite the harsh scrutiny and the offensive comments, your time of waiting on Seokjin had thickened your skin and reinforced your resolve. Your ultimate test of patience left you with a sense of serenity in the tense world.

You could wait for the attacks to die down. You could be patient- Kim Seokjin was worth it.

As time went on, people cared less and less about your relationship after realizing that you weren’t going anywhere. You had predicted as much.

To celebrate your two-year anniversary together, your boyfriend finally asked you to move in with him.

He was nervous, to say the least. Seokjin wanted you to live with him because he found your apartment to be quite small- it was about time to give you more.

Now, two days after the proposal to move in- on his free weekend- he was helping you move out of your apartment.

Everything was going smoothly, as he expected, up until the moment you told him to go into your closet and grab the box of clothes you had set aside to donate.

He wasn’t expecting to find a small box stuffed into the back of your closet with BTS in large sparkly letters decorating the top. After he pulled it out and dusted it off, he opened it to find photocards and trinkets of his brother, Hoseok.

Gingerly, he dipped his fingers into the box and pulled out a tiny, pink pouch that perked his interest- Seokjin never faired well with fighting his curiosity of material things.

Pulling out the small chain, he let a grimace riddle his features whilst he surveyed the six silver letters of Hoseok’s name adorning it.

“Oh.” He heard from behind him, causing him to jump and quickly drop the pouch and bracelet back into the open box in his lap. “So you found those.”

“What is all this?” He asked while gesturing to said box, an ugly inferno of jealousy beginning to curl inside his stomach and snake its way up his throat. All Seokjin could think about was the fact that Hoseok was your bias and not him. Sure, he never asked, but you could have at least told him that he had competition.

“I- uh-“ You stuttered. Your hesitation to answer warranted him to stand and approach you with an eyebrow cocked and a storm brewing in his eyes.

“Am I just a ploy to get to him?” Seokjin’s anger was obvious, yet you couldn’t help the lick of excitement as he became possessive over you- a trait you rarely saw on the man.

“No!” You were quick to answer his question, closing the space between the two of you to grab his hands in your own. “Babe, I swear! Those are from years ago! Before I met any of you!”

Although Seokjin knew that you were telling the truth, he still seethed in response and let his jealousy show. You seemed to like the jealous side of him, so he decided to maximize his advantages of the situation. It was also hard to ignore that he was growing slightly uncomfortable in his pants.

“Then why do you still have them?”

“Because my friend made them for me and they’re special!” You defended, wanting him to hold your hands. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly and pulled you so that your body was flush against his. You were left to stare up at his towering frame.

“Well,” He chuckled, letting go of your hands and bending down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise but he only growled and smacked you on the ass with so much force that you yelped out in pain.

Seokjin threw you down on your tiny bed and you looked up at him in anticipation when you noticed the sly smile thinning his plump lips. He leaned down, placing a knee between your legs, as his gaze locked with yours.

“I’ll give you something fucking special, J-hope stan.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, bringing your arms up to wrap around your shoulders as he pecked you on the lips and trailed his lips down the side of your neck.

Once he placed a kiss on top of your clothed nipple, Seokjin wasted no time in lifting your shirt over your chest to press his tongue and lips against you. You sighed, letting your eyes flutter closed as you tipped your head back and let him work over your areola.

“Does Hobi know how sensitive you are here?” He asked, licking your nipple immediately after. He brought his thumb to the other one as he kissed it again. “Would he even figure it out?”

Instead of answering, you threaded your fingers into his hair blindly, wrapping your legs around his waist while he lowered his mouth further down your body. The notion left you quaking in its wake.

His nose feathered down your stomach while he whispered his next question.

“Does he know how soft your skin is?” Seokjin pressed his lips to the skin of your waist and you craned your head up to look down at him, catching his gaze promptly. Seeing his lips against your skin had your legs pressing against his sides even tighter. “Would he even appreciate it?”

He backed up and pulled your underwear and shorts down your legs to bare your pussy to him, not wanting to tease you at all. He was on a mission and you wouldn’t stop him.

By the time he got his face between your legs, you were already spasming and dripping.

Your boyfriend looked at you with a smirk on his lips. “Could he get you this wet?”

His tongue pushed between your folds and flattened to rub against your clit to lap up once with a groan building in his chest before he pulled away. “Would he even taste you?”

You whimpered, dependent on Seokjin for pleasure as he pressed his tongue on your clit and slid two fingers into your depths to scissor you open. For a good minute, he pumped his two fingers into you and shoved his tongue onto your bundle of nerves as if trying to completely lick it off your body.

Your first orgasm was sharp and intense, causing you to cry out and dig your fingers into your boyfriend’s scalp. He pulled his lips away from you for a moment to look up at your heaving body.

“Could he even find how sensitive you are right-“ He brushed his fingers against the spot that had your mind reeling. “-here? Could he make you feel good? How would he even begin to try?”

The oversensitivity had your senses dulling and your lips babbling. “He wouldn’t. God, Jin. He wouldn’t.”

He continued to sink his fingers into you, harshly laving over your clit with his tongue in between his words as if he were fucking you already.

“You just-” Slurp. “-taste like-” Suck. “-fucking candy, baby.” You gasped at the loss of contact and squealed every time he returned his tongue and covered you with his plump lips to wildly swirl the hot muscle into you.

Being forced into more orgasms wasn’t new for you, however, it was always on his dick that you sobbed your way through countless climaxes. The pleasure of being pushed over the edge by his tongue was completely new and unabashedly erotic.

You screamed and writhed against Seokjin’s hand splayed possessively over your stomach, trying to get away from the contact but helplessly struggling against him. One after the other, you were painfully shoved into cumming, but it’s only when you squirted onto his chin that he finally let up.

“I bet he couldn’t make you squirt like that.” He darkly chuckled.

You, sweaty and breathless, lay under him with a bead of drool beginning to collect at the corner of your mouth. Mindlessly, you affirmed his statement.

“He couldn’t. He couldn’t.” It was almost as if you were chanting now.

“You’re damn right, he couldn’t.” Seokjin stood on his knees and quickly pulled his jeans down just enough for his dick to pop out before eagerly settling himself between your shaky legs once more.

Pussy raw and throbbing, you needed him to fill you properly to balance out the sensitivity on your clit. It was almost painful.

“This pussy is mine.” Seokjin grabbed his dick and looked down to slap his tip against your clit repeatedly. Your legs jerked in result, body responsive to the slightest touch on your nub. “You’re all mine.”

“Jin,” You whimpered. “Please.”

“I know, baby. I know. Be patient.” And he slid in slowly.

You dug your nails into his shoulders and threw your head back into the pillow again. The pleasure was blinding and you tensed your entire body at the sensation of him stretching out your insides.

“He could never know how tight you are.” Seokjin grit his teeth as he bottomed out. “How fucking warm-” You gasped and your eyes rolled back as he nudged his hips to try pushing himself further inside you, succeeding in dipping slightly deeper into your walls and crowding himself against your womb almost uncomfortably. “-you are.”

At this point, all you could do was sob in confirmation. “He couldn’t.”

“I’m not gonna lie.” He pulled out and thrust into you once, then twice, and then paused while heaving above you. “You got me all worked up with how cute you sound so I won’t last very long. I’m going to need you to cum one more time. Can you do that for me, love?”

You nodded almost immediately, knowing that all he needed to do was toy with your clit to send you over the edge.

With a harsh beat, your lover ferociously fucked into you and grabbed one of your thighs to widen your legs. With each clap of his skin into yours, you let out a small huff while he literally fucked the air from your lungs.

“Cum, baby. Cum right now.” He strained.

“I-” You cried, holding onto him for dear life as you desperately needed that last nudge to send you hurtling towards ecstasy. “I can’t. I n-need-“

“Hobi can’t fuck you like this, Y/N. Can’t fill you up and make you scream like I can. But you can’t cum for me?” He smashed his swollen lips onto yours and messily pushed his tongue into your mouth. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected the two of you. “What do you need, baby? What do you need me to do?”

Your clit practically screamed for attention from your prior orgasms, but you were too focused on not actually crying to tell him. Instead, you snaked your hand down your body towards yourself and Seokjin followed your trail down to where your bodies joined, noticing immediately how swollen and red your clit was. His expression softened in realization.

“Oh, does my girl need her pussy touched?” He crooned roughly.

You nodded feverishly, sniffling.

“Okay, love. I’ll touch.” And he did.

Your orgasm was almost instantaneous. Your body, battered and exhausted, trembled as it seized up to accept his thrust for the last time that evening. In all its pain and bliss, your climax was glorious.

“Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck-” Seokjin growled as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck. “Squeezing me all tight like that. You’d never squeeze Hobi like that.”

Even through your pleasure, you felt him clutch onto you tightly, slowing his thrusts and sinking himself deeply to empty his release into you.

“That’s my girl.” He groaned after he stilled, slumping against you. For a moment, the two of you breathed and relaxed in each other’s presence.

You chuckled, turning your head to kiss his head. “That was pretty hot, babe.”

His head shot up from your shoulder immediately. “Not at all! How could you stan Hobi and not me?”

“Babe, I was so much younger. Of course, the one who is a literal ball of sunshine was my bias. You can’t get enough of Hobi.”

“But I’m your boyfriend…” His eyebrows turned up at you and pouted all the while his dick still lay wedged between your legs. Slowly, you pushed him off of you so that you could go clean up.

As you stood, you walked to the bathroom and laughed again. “Yes, you are.”

Even as you were walking away, you heard him mutter under his breath.

“Hobi would never walk away from me like that.”

All you could do was giggle at his statement, knowing that he would eventually get over it.

Kim Seokjin was the one you loved. Who was Jung Hoseok?

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Masterlist!

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calpops · 4 years

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reassurance | c.h.

Your relationship with Calum is accidentally exposed to the public and you both have to deal with the hardships it entails. Based on the prompts “nothing is wrong with you”, “I’m not going anywhere”, “you’re the only one I wanna wake up next to” and “you make me feel safe".

1.7k words

dates with cal masterlist

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Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, the light burning in the otherwise dark room. You sit alone on the edge of the bed. Calum is still at the studio, another late night of finalizing keeping the comfort of him from you. Photos are surfacing online and it’s the first time you’ve been publicly spotted with Calum. How you’ve managed to keep your relationship to yourselves for so long is baffling but something you both cherished. Now that’s broken; the intimacy taken from you and splashed across headlines and social media. Your hands shake and your phone screen comes in and out of view with the motion and burning eyes. You take in a shallow breath and swipe out of social media that makes your mind spin and heart ache. You fumble to dial Calum’s number and wait with bated breath as the phone rings and rings and rings. You didn’t expect him to answer; completely used to his voicemail greeting on nights when the band takes precedence.

He doesn’t answer and familiar words flood you but you can’t fathom getting your own words out, instead you hang up and toss the phone on the bed. Willing the entire situation away from you with the action. The photos and words attached to them are clear in your mind as you crawl into bed with your clothes still on; too tired and uncaring to change into pajamas. You can picture the snapshots vividly, they were taken at a distance but capture you both in a moment you thought was private. Intimate. His hands cupping your smiling face and his lips pressed to your forehead. The words of fans and media outlets burn in dark red behind closed eyelids. They’re fleeting but come back in haunting whispers as you wait. Wait for them to go away, wait for Calum to come home, wait for assurance that everything is okay and those words aren’t true. They’re lies and rumors and misconceptions based on wild theories. You try to remember that as time ticks on and Calum still hasn’t come home. It’s later than his usual late and doubts begin to plague you, to settle in your brain with twisted words and venomous vengeance.

It’s compulsory when you reach for your phone again; you try to convince yourself it’s just to see if he’s texted yet but no notifications from him light up the screen and yet you unlock the phone anyway. You don’t know why. You know how heavy the words were the first time you were presented with them. With only minutes between you dive back into the words from faceless people that shouldn’t hurt but make your chest tight and eyes well up with tears anyway.

You’re curled into your side with a quivering lip and tear stained cheeks when Calum finally gets home with phone in hand and worries hitting him hard and fast. He saw your missed call as soon as they wrapped up the session; the lack of voicemail to accompany it was unusual and spiked anxiety and questions through him. He raced home with only thoughts of you as the rest of the world became faded. He could’ve called but the drive was short and seeing you was his first priority—the lack of your voice on his messages instilling that need tenfold. He finds you in bed, day clothes still on, phone in hand and silent sobs escaping you. He doesn’t know what’s wrong but he’s moving to your side on instinct, replacing the phone with his hand as he pulls you up and to him. You’re shaking in his hold and he does his best to calm you and stop the tears. A million scenarios race through his mind and none of them are pleasant, most of them begin with loss and heartache and leave him breathless.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asks as gently as he can manage.

Calum’s in a half crouched position at the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around you as best as they can be. You sink into his embrace and take comfort in the familiarity of his hold; revel in his concern and use it to instill faith in the things you should already know and never forget. You don’t know if you can manage to say much, throat tight and burning and chest weighed down by revelations of the night. For a selfish moment you stay silent and press closer into him, holding onto the fragmented pieces of hope that everything is still okay. Calum didn’t want to go public with your relationship and you’d never batted an eye at that—also content to keep whats yours between the two of you with only friends and family knowing. Now that’s shattered. You never wanted to live under the scrutiny of media and fans and eyes always on you, seeing you, judging you. Now you’re shattering.

“There’s pictures,” you manage to choke out and pull away from him but guide him up to properly sit on the bed though his arms don’t want to leave you. He settles on the edge and pulls you back before you can even catch your breath. “Everyone knows. Everyone hates me.”

Calum goes still; you can’t even feel the rise and fall of his chest beating out breaths. He’s stoic and contemplative as he figures out your words and rejects their meaning. You peer up at him through hazy tears and find a frown creasing his features. Guilt eats at you—tries to tell you it’s your fault and he’s upset with you for the broken bit of privacy his life once had. You suck in a shaking breath and wipe at your face, determined to move away and find refuge and safety from the moment under the covers. But Calum shakes himself and doesn’t let you go, he’s soft and warm as he invites you back into his side and does his best to rid your face of the rest of the tears.

“Can I see the pictures?” He finally asks and you can hear the hitch in his breath as reality crashes through.

You slowly nod; the articles and tweets still litter your phone, all you have to do is unlock it and hand it over. Calum doesn’t let go of you as he accepts the device, his eyebrows furrow and brown eyes glint with recognition and then glimmer back to concern. He swipes through, rolling text passes in a blur and a sigh escapes him. You’re two seconds away from another sob but bite your lip and try to keep it in. He tosses the phone away and looks down at you, hands gentle as they come up to cup your face and lips warm and familiar as they place a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s about time the world gets to know how much I love you,” he says and leaves you shocked with disbelief.

You had no way to gauge what his response might be other than late night conversations detailing how much he values your shared privacy. That he appreciates you being okay with staying under the radar. One simple sentence blows all of that away, a kiss and a sigh accompanying it in a delicate form of reassurance. But hostile words from unknown people still settle in your heart and haunt your thoughts. Knowing Calum is okay with your relationship being public is only a slim margin of the battle. The rest comes in droves of hateful words and bold headlines.

“You don’t believe any of it, do you?” He asks abruptly, tone tight and clipped. You know he means the hate, the disparaging words that dance through social media so mindlessly, so heartlessly.

You force a shrug and wipe the rest of your tears away, eyes downcast at the notches in the wooden floor. You can hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm grounding you and forcing you away from the spiraling whirlwind of negativity and doubt.

“Maybe some of it's true,” you whisper and feel the pull of Calum pulling you closer, holding you tighter, repositioning you to settle into his lap completely and find comfort in his actions.

“It’s not,” he says firmly and keeps his gaze steady on you. “No one else’s opinion matters. There’s nothing they can say to make me think there’s something wrong with us or you.”

He’s saying exactly what you need to hear, things you already know but need to be reminded. Taking your fears and doubts from other people’s words and pushing them away so effortlessly. Comments that pick you and your relationship apart don’t feel as heavy and honest when Calum’s there to lift them away and cast light on your truth. Calum’s always considered himself a man of few words but he always has the right ones in the right moments.

“They don’t know you like I do. They don’t get a say in our relationship. I’m not going anywhere; not without you. No one else’s opinions matter,” he repeats and kisses you again. “I hope you know that.”

You did and now you do again. You nod against his chest and decompress, body easing after hours of tension and uncertainty. You move with him as he leans you back against the pillows and toward the sliver of moonlight that peeks through slotted open curtains. It’s silent for a few minutes and in that time Calum sends out a tweet of confirmation and defense. You don’t know what it says and don’t care to look or ask; you trust him and his words. Know how safe and protected he makes you feel.

“Feel any better?” He asks as he turns his phone off and tosses it away too.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly and gnaw on your lip for just a second before asking, “you’ll be here in the morning?”

You have to ask, wanting to know if the band will take precedence again, if his side of the bed will be cold by the time you wake up because of an early morning session. But there’s another meaning that sinks into the question. Reassurance being sought out.

“Of course,” he answers just as softly, with two meanings capturing his voice. “Always wanna wake up with you, sweetheart.”

<< >>

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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simply be mine - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

author’s note: i needed to write a fluff piece after my last fic, “cottage by the sea,” and got inspiration while listening to a couple songs (see prompt line below) for a new years’ eve party fic. i hope you enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 14+; descriptions of drinking word count: 3.1k based on/prompt: “only girl in the world” by rihanna / “one and only” by adele summary: adam struggles to understand why anyone would care about human new years’ eve traditions, but when he finds out regina enjoys them, he finds himself intrigued.

simply be mine

when regina walked into the warehouse living room an hour before the agency’s new years’ eve party, she was pleasantly surprised to see unit bravo somewhat dressed up, even if they were standing around brooding like usual. she was both surprised and excited that she was invited to attend as well, without having to be someone’s plus one, even though she had been assured by both nate and farah that they would’ve invited her. she giggled internally at the memory of farah practically jumping off the walls of the warehouse living room in excitement, yelling what seemed like a hundred words per minute about going shopping and getting ready together.

she quickly learned that the rest of unit bravo hated attending agency work functions and avoided them as much as they could. however, everyone was “strongly encouraged” to attend the new years’ eve party, which she gathered from both morgan and adam that what the agency meant was “we better see you there or we’ll give you the worst cases next year.” she thought they were probably exaggerating a tiny bit, but let it slide.

perhaps to make up for the fact that they’d have to spend the night in a brightly lit and loud room for several hours with colleagues they didn’t care for, regina found that unit bravo had already started pregaming before she arrived, and they pregamed hard. she saw firsthand the sheer amount of alcohol they needed to consume just to feel a little buzzed.

another rare upside to being human, regina noted, a couple of shots of any brown liquor and she was good to go. of course, she only managed one shot of nate’s vintage prohibition-era whiskey before he snatched it away and started lecturing her on its rarity and history and had to settle for farah’s tequila.

“regina, do a shot with me!” farah practically screamed, bounding over to her with a half-empty bottle of tequila and limes in one hand and a pinch of salt in the palm of her other hand.

“who taught you how to do a tequila shot?” she asked incredulously as farah poured a generous shot for them both and handed her a lime.

“i looked it up online!” she said with such a proud look on her face that regina could only smile fondly at the person who had become her best friend on the team.

they both knocked back the shots and cringed, the salt and limes providing little relief to the burn; regina could only assume it was maybe ten times worse for farah. but then farah drained whatever was left in the bottle and let out a loud whoop before wrapping regina up in a big hug.

“i am soooooooo glad we get to celebrate with youuu!! you are the best person on this teammmmmm, after me, of course,” farah shouted and regina couldn’t help but laugh.

adam raised an eyebrow. “you mean she’s the best human on the team, don’t you, farah?”

“nopeeeeeeeeeeee. regina’s the bestttttttttt of us and you can’t convince me otherwiseeeee,” she said in a singsong voice, much to everyone else’s annoyance.

“hey farah, why don’t you put on some pre-party music?” regina suggested. farah’s eyes lit up and she sped away and disappeared before regina could blink.

she felt adam’s large presence behind her, casting a figurative shadow over her in the living room. the room was softly lit by the chandelier farah herself had selected, much to morgan’s annoyance. regina let herself lean back slightly without actually touching adam’s chest, knowing it would tempt him to wrap his hands around her waist.

except he only kept one hand hovering near her hip as he said in a low murmur, “you really shouldn’t encourage her, you know.”

the corner of her lips twitched as though it wanted to break into a smile, but regina knew adam wouldn’t appreciate being teased about being a ‘stick in the mud’ considering each member of unit bravo took their turn throughout the day telling him to lighten up.

“you know she’s not going to stop, so just let her have her fun,” she winked as a familiar song started vibrating through the walls, followed by farah’s vocals. “we’ll be heading out soon anyway.”

morgan let out a sound that was a cross between a loud huff and a growl as she stomped outside, cigarettes in hand.

“i want you to love me, like a hot ride,” farah sang out as she appeared in the living room, twirling gracefully as she leaped over the table to land in front of regina. “be thinking of me, doing what you like.”

regina laughed as adam sighed loudly, intending obviously for them to hear, before he walked over to where nate was leaning against the bookshelf with a glass of wine. she immediately missed the warmth of his body behind her, or rather, the tingle she got in her spine from the prospect of his touch. she took a long sip of her whiskey, willing herself to actually enjoy tonight and not dwell on the lack of progress between her and adam.

“come on, regina, sing with me!” farah grabbed her hand and started twirling her around, whatever was left of the whiskey sloshing out of the glass and on to the floor.

“want you to make me feel, like i’m the only girl in the world,” regina belted alongside farah, throwing her head back. “like i’m the only one you’ll ever love; like i’m the only one who knows your heart.”

farah grabbed the wine bottle on the table by nate before he could intervene and put it to her mouth like a microphone. “only girl in the worlddddd,” she crooned, before collapsing into a giggling fit on the couch, bringing regina down with her.

despite wanting to roll his eyes at farah’s antics, even nate couldn’t help but smile at how cheerful his family was and how nice it was to celebrate the holidays together.

“we should get going soon,” he said, finishing his glass of wine.

“no, wait, regina’s not dressed!” farah said, immediately standing and pulling regina up with her.

“what are you talking about? i am dressed,” regina protested, motioning toward her tailored dress pants and blouse.

farah wrinkled her nose. “oh honey, no. this is a fancy party and you need to dress like it. come on!” before she could protest further, farah had dragged her back toward her room.

* * * * * “you know, regina might appreciate it if you partake in some new years’ traditions,” nate said quietly, glancing over at his longtime friend, who was staring out the window.

adam looked over at him with one eyebrow raised. “and what traditions would that be?”

nate smiled mischievously. “well, the one that seems to be really popular among humans is kissing someone at midnight.”

nate could feel adam’s shoulders tense a fraction of a second before he saw the physical movement itself. “that is an impractical and inane tradition. i would think the detective to be above such childish antics.”

now it was nate’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “and i think she’d appreciate the romantic gesture. it’s not childish to want to ring in the new year with someone you care for.”

before adam could retort, the sound of heels clacking along the hallway and the gentle swishing movement of fabric drew his attention toward the only thing that was capable of unraveling centuries of carefully architected walls with a single glance. regina appeared in the living room, farah’s arm looped in hers, dressed in a strapless black floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline and slit that went all the way up to her mid-thigh.

adam’s eyes followed the length of the slit; the creamy complexion of her skin drawing him in. his gaze traced the way the fabric clung to her curves, dipping at the waist before cupping her chest. her hair was styled in soft waves to one side, leaving her collarbone and neck exposed. he didn’t realize his eyes were continuing to trace the delicate lines of her neck and jaw, before they landed on her red lips. they were lighter than blood and yet, just as, if not more, enticing to him.

he watched as the corner of those luscious lips quirked up into a smirk, which seemed to snap him out of his trance. his gaze shot upward to meet her teasing blue ones, not realizing that his feet seemed to move of their own accord until he was standing right in front of her.

“can i help you, commanding agent du mortain?” regina said, the low and sultry tone of her voice sending warmth south in an unfamiliar, but not wholly unpleasant way.

adam’s throat suddenly felt dry – an odd, human-like sensation that made him pause, until he realized that regina was suddenly very close. too close. he inwardly begged his legs to take a step back, but they wouldn’t budge, and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to anyway.

“your… dress. it’s impractical. what if you were to get attacked?” he said slowly after clearing his throat, clasping his hands behind his back.

regina smiled and gazed up at him knowingly, a look that was both infuriating and intoxicating. as though she could read every piece of his soul back to him and love all of him anyway.

“don’t worry, i have my volt gun strapped to my thigh, see?” she reached for his hand, her touch sending a jolt up his arm that would worry him for medical reasons if he were human, but instead was stoking a deep primal urge within him as she moved it toward the back of her thigh.

the familiar rectangular gun was firm underneath his fingers and even though regina had let go of his hand, he held on, not quite allowing himself to graze her skin, but feeling her body heat at the tips of his fingertips all the same.

“besides, i know you all will be keeping an eye on me,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. adam could hear the flutter of each lash against the air and found himself wondering how they’d feel against his skin as she kissed her way down his chest.

“of course, i— i mean, we, won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, moving his hand back behind him, flexing it once before resuming his stance.

“well, i only care that you are keeping an eye on me, commanding agent,” she said, giving him a flirty wink before putting on her coat and following farah out to the car.

adam let out an audible groan and rubbed his face with his hands. nate clasped a hand on his shoulder and he looked over to see his best friend was smirking at him.

“it’s okay. but if you’re going to pretend like there’s nothing between you all night, then you won’t mind if we all take turns dancing with her, right?” his smile only widened as adam’s mouth parted in stunned surprise. “come on or we’ll be late.”

* * * * * adam stood, tense and rigid, in a corner of the ballroom near the balcony doors with morgan, who ducked out every so often when the lights and sounds got to be too much, while nate and farah took turns dancing with regina. it baffled him how an entire room full of trained agents could let themselves potentially be compromised by partaking in such celebratory activities. even his own team, although he would admit only to himself that they needed the break.

farah loved the upbeat songs that allowed her to twirl regina around as fast as she could, and he wondered how regina could handle what must be incredibly dizzying and nauseating for a human. and then there was nate, who took advantage of the slow ballads and classic waltzing music sprinkled throughout the evening, to lead regina around in simple box steps. it was very unlike adam to care what his team did during events like this, as long as they behaved themselves, but something about how nate would lean in every once in a while to say something and make regina laugh made him want to crush every glass in sight.

he crossed his arms and glared at the back of nate’s head, knowing he was doing this to antagonize him, somehow. he felt his gaze unwillingly soften, however, whenever he felt regina’s eyes glance over at him. he quickly looked away when he realized she was walking toward him, surveying the room as though he was being vigilant.

“not fond of dancing?” she asked, the words coming out in soft gasps as she sought to catch her breath.

“i don’t see the point,” he said quickly, the defensiveness in his tone catching even him by surprise. surely, he didn’t need to explain himself.

“sometimes things don’t have to have a point to be enjoyable,” she offered, her voice pleasantly cutting through the din of the party. “and i really like dancing.”

regina let out a soft hum as nate arrived and handed her a drink. she drank it gratefully, giving nate a gentle smile that made adam grit his teeth. morgan appeared next to her and swiftly took regina’s drink, finishing it despite her half-hearted protest.

“so, regina, what is your favorite new years’ eve tradition?” nate asked, hiding his smile behind his glass of wine and ignoring adam’s pointed glare.

“oh well, i always like how excited everyone gets and parties like this are definitely fun,” regina answered, pausing for just a moment to look down at her glass hesitantly before continuing, “but the best one is of course getting to kiss someone at midnight.”

“it’ll be midnight soon, do you have anyone you plan to kiss yet?” morgan asked, slinging an arm around regina’s shoulders. “i’m free at midnight, if you’re interested.”

adam cleared his throat. “that would be unprofessional, agent.”

morgan brought another cigarette to her lips. nate stopped her hand with the lighter and motioned to the balcony. “let’s get some air, morgan, and leave these two alone.”

“sure, if you think that means he’ll actually kiss her before i do,” morgan snickered, too soft for regina to hear but it was obviously directed at adam.

a soft romantic melody started playing over the speakers; a love ballad that regina was familiar with, judging by the way she started humming along and swaying gently in place.

i don't know why i'm scared i've been here before every feeling, every word i've imagined it all you'll never know if you never try to forget your past and simply be mine

regina blinked at adam’s sudden appearance in front of her, his large figure towering over hers and blocking the chandelier from her sight.

“you like this song.” it technically wasn’t a question.

“um, i guess?” she asked, puzzled.

“you should dance,” he said, his hands itching to reach for hers.

regina tilted her head to the side and looked up at him searchingly, her blue eyes delicately framed by her long dark lashes. “are you asking me to dance?”

he pursed his lips into a thin, straight line. “you would need a partner, and seeing as no one else is around, i can… dance with you. if you’d like.”

her eyebrows shot up in surprise. she was not expecting adam du mortain to willingly admit to asking her to dance. she quickly looked around and noticed that most of the agents had gone out on the balcony to watch the fireworks.

she smiled and tucked her hand gently into his and led him to the dance floor. they settled into a swaying rhythm as regina wrapped her arms around his neck. adam hesitantly placed his hands on her waist, and a sweet heat bloomed throughout her body, making her feel flushed.

“i thought dancing was pointless?” she asked teasingly after encouraging him to shift his weight between his feet to match her movements.

adam lowered his head, as if he didn’t want anyone reading his lips or hearing what he was about to say. “with you… it doesn’t seem that way.”

regina shook her head fondly. “you continue to surprise me, commanding agent.”

i dare you to let me be your, your one and only i promise i'm worthy to hold in your arms so come on and give me the chance to prove i am the one who can walk that mile until the end starts

“i hope so,” he muttered quietly. “i have lived over nine centuries, yet every day with you seems new and uncertain.”

regina was afraid to ruin the moment by saying anything and decided to step closer and rest her head on his shoulder instead. she smiled when his hands tightened around her waist, bunching the fabric in a way that she was sure would leave wrinkles.

“10…9…8”

her head shot up at the sound of the crowd outside counting down the last few seconds to the new year. “i didn’t realize it was almost midnight, we should go join everyone.”

adam’s green eyes bore into hers and she was close enough that she could see little specks of gold reflected in them from the chandeliers and ornate décor throughout the room. “you… you want to kiss mor—ahem, someone at midnight.”

“7…6…5”

“oh, i didn’t mean anything by it,” she said quickly, giving him a reassuring smile. she tried taking a step back only to find that adam was holding her tightly in place.

“but it’s a tradition you enjoy.” it was a statement, but he was looking for confirmation while trying to maintain his composure despite his heart hammering so loudly in his chest he thought regina would be able to hear it.

“4…3…2”

she dropped her hands from his shoulders and let them rest on his chest, fiddling with the lapels of his jacket nervously. “oh well, i— i suppose with someone i care for, yes.”

the final second and cheers from the balcony faded into the background as adam leaned forward and touched his lips lightly to hers; they were softer than he imagined, even with the layer of faded lipstick between them.

regina’s body instinctively arched closer to his as she sought to deepen the kiss, her hands scrambling for some part of his shirt she could hold on to. she barely registered that it was over all too soon as adam pulled back, her head spinning from the kiss in a good way.

“happy new year, detective,” he whispered hoarsely, resting his forehead against hers briefly before stepping back and walking away.

regina touched her lips to savor the pleasant tingling feeling the kiss had left behind. happy new year indeed.

* * * * * mentions: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @writer-ish; @fhauvilles;

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angelinasway · 3 years

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Regaining Hope

Chapter Six

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes:Thank you all for you're amazing reviews. I never get tired of reading them. I just got to say I adored writing this chapter. It was so much fun and I loved the banter. I'm slowly falling in love with this couple the more I explore it. I should warn everyone that there's a subject that comes up that might offend some of you. I did not write this part to try to do that to anyone, so please don't take it seriously. It was more about showing Buffy's age and what some of us begin to contemplate as we get older. If Buffy was really only twenty-one it wouldn't be a topic that would come up, but I don't think its to far off the mark that a thirty-two year old Buffy would think these thing. Once again, a shout out and huge thanks to my amazing beta Hipkarma for being so insightful and just plain helpful while editing these chapters. I don't know what I would do without her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Six

Buffy awoke, as always right around eight. It didn’t matter where she was in the world, she always woke up around the same time every morning. Except, this morning happened to be very different because a large warm arm was wrapped firmly around her waist and a large thigh was wedged between her legs. She blinked in surprise as the night before came rushing back in surround sound and technicolor. From the moment Faith and Gunn woke them up having obnoxiously loud sex to when she first heard Clark moan. The deep baritone of the sound sending such a shock wave of lust straight to her core, she’d never felt anything like it and she was certain she couldn’t have stopped herself from touching him after that even if she tried.

God, he was built like brick wall. A very soft and warm brick wall, but a brick wall nonetheless. Training him was going to be difficult for that reason. She was incredibly strong but he was a hell of a lot stronger than her. Getting hit by him at full strength wasn’t really going to be an option. Though, she could always train him in her suit, which might actually give her a little bit of advantage against anything he threw at her. The suit itself was highly warded, to the point where she could probably get hit by a train and be able to walk it off. So that might actually be able to work, as long as he didn’t go for her head which unfortunately the full leather and Kevlar body suit did not cover. They could definitely work around that though.

She bit her lip, remembering how good it felt to kiss him. It had been awkward at first, but he was an incredibly fast learner and eventually began to take the lead. Heat pooled in her belly at what came after though, the grinding and rubbing that ended in one of the best orgasms she ever had. He really was such a well-built man, everything about him was deceptively large from his broad shoulders to his thighs that were almost as big as tree trunks. Something she didn’t actually notice until she straddled him. The act itself had forced her legs farther apart than she was expecting. So, when he’d pulled her into his lap his cock was suddenly perfectly aligned against her clit, and boy did he feel big. Almost too big if she was being honest.

The familiar throb of arousal hit her; her panties suddenly soaked. She vaguely remembered telling him after he got out of the shower that he looked ridiculous squashed up on her couch and to just share the bed. She was now slightly regretting that, because at this moment she wanted nothing more than to press herself back against the body currently cuddling her and grind her ass against the erection she felt poking her. ‘Yep, it was definitely time to get up.’

She meant what she’d said earlier about not being ready for sex yet and she really did plan to stick to that. She wanted to get to know him first, find out what his likes and dislikes were, what his favorite movies were, hell even what his favorite color was. She truly did believe what Lorne had told her, but she craved the getting-to-know-you portion of the relationship process more than anything. It had been a long time since she had that. In fact, if she was being honest, she was pretty sure she never really had it.

Angel had always hated talking about himself and she remembered very clearly spending a few hours researching him alone just to try and understand more about him. Unfortunately, back then Giles only had his pre-soul history, which probably should have been her first clue that embarking on any type of relationship with him was a bad idea. Riley had been different however, but when they started the relationship, they had both been keeping secrets. So, there had been big honesty issues there. Spike she hadn’t bothered getting to know, at least not before his soul. Oh, there were plenty of times she would slip up and ask him a question about himself, and even be cordial to him, but the personal stuff hadn’t come until those long nights spent together planning against The First. And, then again, after Angelus had killed Giles when she was basically a walking zombie. He would talk to her for hours even if she didn’t talk back just to try and snap her out of her desolation. He told her all about his life when he was human, and would even talk about some of the places he traveled with Dru. He never mentioned Angelus in those times, and she was grateful for that.

It was in those moments that she realized why she and Spike meshed so well. He was very good at taking care of broken things and she was a very broken thing. He was created for it actually, and he needed to take care of her just as badly as she needed to be taken care of. She just hoped Clark could handle the task as well, because she had picked up a lot of the pieces of her shattered heart and soul and begun to paste them back together, but there were still several missing parts of herself that she had lost along the way. She was working on it and had been for awhile but she still had her moments of utter despair and moodiness. Buffy knew better than anyone how difficult she could be.

She slowly tried to extract herself from his hold, but the arm that held her in place tightened. She heard a sleepy moan next to ear and then she felt his body stiffen as he came awake. Clark quickly removed his arm from around her waist and the knee that had wedged itself between her thighs and turned over on his back.

“Sorry,” He murmured groggily.

Buffy turned to face him, a slow smile spreading across her face as she propped her head up with her hand. He was blushing again and she found she rather enjoyed it. “I think we’re past accidental sleepy cuddling, don’t you?”

A sleepy half smile crossed his lips at her words, "Mmm," he hummed. "So, that really did happen."

She chuckled; he was absolutely adorable. "Unless we were sharing the same dream, I'm gonna go with a big uh-huh."

His blue eyes met hers, and his smile stretched into a full grin. His hand reached up and he ran the back of it down her cheek.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

She nodded. "I could definitely eat."

He sighed. "We should probably get dressed then."

"Mmm," She agreed, rolling on her back and stretching her arms above her head. "Shower first though, and I should probably grab your clothes from yesterday out of the dryer."

His hand reached out again, running it along the flat of her stomach. "You shower, I remember where the laundry room is. I'll get them."

He sat up and then leaned down to kiss her, but she stopped him. "I have morning breath. I really don't think you want to do that before I brush my teeth."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I honestly don't think I care," and then he was on her, his lips sliding against hers.

She giggled, breaking the kiss and saying, "I think I created a monster."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have taken advantage of me last night." Clark said, a smirk forming on his lips.

Buffy’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening. "I did no such thing!" She said on a laugh.

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I think you did," and then he was kissing her again, sliding his tongue into her mouth before she could protest.

The kisses suddenly turned much more serious and before she knew what she was doing her legs had wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck. She felt his hard length push against her and she moaned.

"Mmm," He hummed, breaking the kiss. "I could get used to that sound."

His lips slid along her jawline, until he reached her neck where he placed a few wet kisses and then froze. He pulled away and Buffy’s eyes shot open. His eyes staring at her neck in a mixture horror and disbelief.

"Where...how did you get that?" He asked, his hand coming up to brush his thumb across her scar.

Buffy's own hand came up and rubbed the area. "Vampire bite. Well, three to be exact." She saw a pained look flash across his eyes as his hand came up to cup her cheek. "What is it?" She asked.

Clark shook his head, removing his hand and sitting back. "I just..." He sighed. "I can't help thinking how different your life might have been had I met you sooner." He looked away. “You’ve been through so much, some of it I read and some of it you told me.” He met her eyes, sadness and guilt shining in them, “And I’m guessing that’s only the half of it…and…and I can’t help thinking that I could have saved you from it all.”

She felt her heart melt a little at his words. That was definitely up there with at least the top five sweetest things anyone ever said to her, but he shouldn’t be beating himself up for something that was out of his hands.

She sighed sitting up, her hand reaching for his and entwining their fingers, bringing it into her lap. “As sweet as the sentiment is Clark, you can’t think like that.” She nodded, “Trust me, I’m the queen of blaming myself for things that are absolutely out of my control and the truth is, neither of us can know what would have happened had we met sooner.” She shrugged “I mean think about it. Sure, my life would have been easier but when the big stuff came up, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it as well, and do you honestly think I wouldn’t have jumped for Dawn?” She swallowed, “As shitty as the outcome was and even if I knew back then what I know now, I would do it again for her in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” he whispered, looking down. “I just…what if I could have stopped you from having to jump at all?”

She reached her free hand out, cupping his cheek, “Then I wouldn’t be who I am today. I would have never had the choice to take more power than I already had and have the strength and wherewithal to turn it down. I would have never found the Scythe and been able to use its power to activate the Slayers.” At Clark’s frown, she pulled away, getting off the bed and opened the closet. She unzipped her weapons bag and pulled out the Scythe.

“This,” she said, showing him the weapon from when they first met. “It was made thousands of years ago by something called the Guardians. It was made for the first Slayer and she used it to drive the last Old One from this plain of existence. Then it was hidden until the day I found it. It’s the whole reason Willow was able to tap into the Slayer line and activate the girls. It’s incredibly powerful, and I can feel the power thrumming underneath my hand as we speak.” She put the Scythe back and walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Kinda like you.”

Clark swallowed. “What…what do I feel like?”

“Powerful, almost overwhelmingly so,” she said honestly, sitting back on the bed. “But not evil or demonic. Those kinda things usually feel cold, like the temperature suddenly drops and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.” She gave him a small smile, “You feel warm, like I’ve been sunbathing for hours and my skin is that perfect mixture of overheated and sun kissed.”

He brought his hand up, cupping her chin and rubbing his thumb along her lower lip. "And when I kiss you?"

Buffy gasped, heat building in her belly. It took everything in her not to suck his thumb into her mouth. "If I answer that," she said breathily, "we won't ever make it to breakfast."

He blew out a breath, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. "I've never felt so out of control in my life." He opened his eyes, meeting hers. "You...you make me want to lose control."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" She asked, her hand coming up to rub down his chest.

"I honestly don't know," he sighed. "But it scares the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He kissed her then, his hand running into her hair before saying, "Don't be. I feel more alive than I have in years."

"I think that makes two of us then." She said softly. "You're not the only one who feels out of control or alive." She paused, "And I think if I don't get in the shower soon, I don't think I can be held responsible for my next actions."

He chuckled, pulling away. "Then you should probably take a shower," he said moving off the bed, "because I'm pretty sure you aren't alone in that either."

Buffy laughed, "You sure you can find the laundry room, okay?"

"I got it," he said, reaching out to stroke her cheek before grabbing his discarded sweats from last night, chucking them on and heading for the door.

Buffy watched him go and then shook herself out of her daze. God, he had a fabulous back. Why had she not noticed it before? This was going to be incredibly hard if they were both feeling this way. She once again opened her closet grabbing what she needed for the day.

****<S>**<S>****

Clark raised an eyebrow, looking at her in amusement, "You really think this is a good idea?"

She grinned, "No, but it’s cheap entertainment and they deserve it."

They were standing in the hallway outside Faith and Gunn’s room. Buffy having the bright idea of getting back at the couple for their shenanigan’s the night before, because as she said, “This was a long time coming.”

"Alright," he said chuckling. "Then hand me the bucket."

"What...why?" She asked confused.

Clark rolled his eyes, "Because I'm going to make the water colder."

Buffy frowned. "Is this another ability you've yet to tell me about?"

He looked at her innocently. “Maybe?”

The look she gave him was both parts annoyed and pouty. “Okay Mr. Secret Keeper, who keeps secrets. Here,” she grumbled, shoving the quarter filled bucket into his arms.

“I think you’ve been watching too much Harry Potter,” he said as seriously as he could, even though he knew it was obvious he was trying not to laugh.

She looked almost offended for a moment, “I have not!” A full-fledged pout finally broke out on her lips, “At least not willingly. Willow makes me watch it every year.” She sighed, “Then we get into an argument about if the Wizarding World is real or not in another dimension. It’s a thing.”

He snorted, "You're joking."

She rolled her eyes, "I wish," and then she shook her head. "Now hurry up, before they wake up."

He grinned, blowing softly into the bucket and handing it back. "There, it should be cold enough now."

She frowned at the water, reaching her hand into the bucket and touching it. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Wow! That's like seriously impressive." She grinned, "This is gonna be so good." Buffy looked at him, "You ready?"

At Clark’s nod, she said, "Alright, get ready to run."

He watched her take a step back and then her leg shot out, slamming into the door. The lock splintered and the door swung open, hitting the wall hard. Both Faith and Gunn shot up in alarm, suddenly alert and ready to fight.

“Wakey, wakey!” Buffy yelled, before tossing the contents of the bucket on them.

They both screamed when the ice water hit them. Their eyes widening in disbelief. Faith panted from the sudden shock of the water, looking at hers soaked tank top, her bed, and then Gunn before her eyes suddenly swung up to meet Buffy’s dancing ones. The look she gave them both could freeze over hell, it even managed to make Clark nervous enough to start backing up.

“You. Are. So. Fucking. Dead!” She ground out, fury flashing in her eyes.

“Run!” Buffy squealed, already pushing him down the hallway just as Faith shot out of bed. They were both through the living area and out the staff door in seconds, but Faith was fast and she was hot on their heels. The sound of her bare feet slapping against hardwood close behind them.

As they approached the stairwell a giggling Buffy yelled, “Jump, no time for stairs.”

Clark quickly launched himself over the banister, landing on the ground floor and turning just in time to see Buffy do the same. She landed on her feet and looked up in time to see a snarling Faith staring down at them, water still dripping from her hair and tank top.

“You’re dead B!” She yelled.

“What the hell!” Lisa said, coming around the corner a few of the girls hot on her heels just as Faith launched herself off the banister.

Buffy was pushing Clark again and they slammed out the front door and into the cool morning air. He wrapped his arms around her just as Faith reached the door in only a tank top and boxers and shot them into the air just before she could reach them. Both of them broke into fits of hysterics when they heard her scream, “He can fucking fly!”

“Wow,” Buffy said in between her giggles. “She’s really mad, isn’t she?”

****<S>**<S>****

“Okay,” Buffy said, snagging a piece of bacon off his plate. “Favorite comedy?”

They were in a restaurant not too far from the school. It was a very small establishment, but it was busy and the food smelt good. Buffy had recommended it to Clark, saying it was the best kept secret in Cleveland. It had taken them a little while to get a table, but now they were comfortably seated with two delicious looking breakfasts in front of them.

They had been exchanging questions since they arrived at the restaurant. Simple things, from favorite colors, to places traveled, and now they were on to movies. Except Buffy had just stolen a piece of bacon off his plate without even asking, and it was done in such a way it almost felt domestic. Almost as if this was a completely normal occurrence and they had dined together hundreds of times.

“Did you…did you just steal my bacon?” Clark said, raising an eyebrow.

She blinked at him innocently, taking a bite of the salty goodness while holding back a smile, “Maybe.”

He snorted, “Well, now I want a bite of your pancakes.”

Buffy’s face broke into a grin, and she used her fork to cut him a piece of her strawberry and banana pancakes. Leaning over the table and holding out the bite to him, while using her other hand to protect the table from any syrup dripping.

Clark leaned forward, wrapped his lips around the offered morsel and hummed as the sugary taste exploded on his tongue. He nodded, swallowing the bite before saying, “I should have gotten the pancakes.”

Buffy chuckled, cutting her own piece and taking a bite, her eyes rolling up at the homemade strawberry syrup. “I told you.” She said after swallowing. “This place has awesome pancakes for it being such a hole in the wall.”

Clark cut into his eggs benedict and took a bite. “Mmm,” He hummed, pointing at his plate as he chewed and swallowed. “But this is very good too.”

"What do you like better?" She asked.

"Hmm," he said thinking. "Well, it’s not a very fair comparison. One’s sweet and one’s savory."

"True," she acknowledged. "So, I guess the question should be, what do prefer sweet or salty?"

He licked his lips. "That's actually a tough question. My mom is an excellent cook on both fronts, but I think if I had to choose it would be sweet. I love pie and she does make the best."

She smiled softly, "She sounds pretty incredible."

He nodded, "My parents couldn't have kids so them finding me was what she calls a miracle." He smiled, "When I was a kid and my abilities first started showing, she was the one who helped me control it. She taught me how to focus and block everything else out."

"I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous about meeting her." She confessed shyly.

He frowned in confusion, "Why?"

Buffy shrugged, "Well, she raised you, didn’t she? Any woman capable of turning out a guy who so far has been one of the sweetest, most well-mannered men I’ve ever met, must have some superpowers of her own."

He chuckled a blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know that."

Buffy grinned, shaking her head. "Anyway, back to our original topic. What's your favorite comedy?"

"Hmm," He thought for a moment. "Well right now, I think it’s a toss-up between Talladega Nights and Step Brothers." He said, taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Ah," she acknowledged. "A Ferrell fan. He is hilarious, but I myself would have to go with Sandler or Kevin Smith. I love Dogma and Fifty First Dates is probably my favorite romantic comedy."

He shook his head, "I've never seen Dogma. Isn't that the one that makes fun of religion?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open, "You've never seen it! Okay that's the first movie we are watching together,” Her cheeks suddenly pinkening as she cleared her throat and added. “And yes, it does make fun of religion but in a really unique way where it sends a good message too.” She shrugged, “I think I like it because of how well it rips the Bible apart as far as hypocrisy goes. I’m not very religious, but I mean I do believe there’s something. I don’t know if it’s all the Powers or God or what really, but there is definitely something beyond all this. However, the Bible is one of those things that gets used for evil, far more than it’s used for good. Plus, I’m living proof that some of the sins mentioned in the Bible are complete bullshit.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Because you went to heaven.”

She nodded, “Exactly. Let’s see,” she began to count off her sins on one hand. “Lying, I did a lot of that after I was called, also definitely did not honor my mother and father, I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain on several occasions, I’ve stolen when I’ve had to, not for myself but for slaying.” She put her hand down. “Not to mention,” She whispered quietly. “I may have killed a few people who were after my sister back then, not intentionally of course but I’m pretty sure I killed at least one of them and I’m almost positive they were very human.” At Clark’s surprised frown she explained, “There were these, god I don’t even know a better way of describing it other than medieval knights charged with destroying the Key, and when we all tried to run, they attacked us.”

“But wouldn’t that be considered self-defense?” He asked with a frown and then added, “And maybe you were allowed to go to heaven because of what you are?”

Buffy snorted, “And how unfair is that. I get to go to heaven with the same kinda vague belief system as other people who live their lives with less red on their ledger than I have, but they don’t.” She shook her head. “It’s also kinda bullshit how no sin is greater than any other, or in Catholicism’s case it only applies to anyone in the church. I mean come on, I’ve heard of the Catholic church in particular, refusing to hold a funeral or allow burial over suicide, and yet they protect their pedophile priests like they are somehow above it all.” She sighed, a blush forming on her cheeks at her diatribe. “Sorry, I have many feelings about this particular subject.” She looked down, “I think that most religions have it wrong. It’s about our intents and choices, if we spend our lives at least trying to do good, no matter if we fall along the way or not, we have a place in heaven. If we however let the darkness that is always around us, whether we know it’s there or not, consume us, then we let ourselves be corrupted. If we begin to enjoy the pain and suffering, we as humans are quite capable of causing all on our own, I think that’s when we become hell bound.” She took a drink of her juice, meeting his eyes again, before adding. “I’m sorry if you’re religious and I offended you. I sometimes forget that not everyone thinks the same way I do.”

He smiled softly. She was really cute when she was passionate about something. He couldn’t really help playing devil’s advocate to watch that spark in her eyes as she got indignant over the topic of religion, but it had gone on long enough. He was trying to enjoy this moment, not offend her.

“I’m not,” He clarified. “I honestly don’t know what I believe. My dad and mom had me baptized as Presbyterian, but I think my dad might have stopped believing after they found me. My mom probably did too, but she would never admit it.”

Buffy frowned, “Then why–”

“Because I’m an alien Buffy,” He shook his head. “Neither of them knew where I was from or what I was. I looked human, but they both knew I wasn’t.” He shrugged, “I think they did it to teach me right from wrong the only way they really understood how. The same way their parents taught them.” He shook his head, “It wasn’t only that though, my dad used stories, his own life stories to drill into me how important it was that I always made the better choice, because for someone like me, losing my temper isn’t really an option if it’s going to hurt someone.” He sighed, “As for religion, I used to wonder why God would make me this way until my dad told me the truth. It’s very hard for me to worship a god that had no hand in my creation. In fact, I stopped going to church because I just felt like an imposter.”

Her eyes softened at his words and she reached her hand across the table and entwined their fingers. “You aren’t an imposter, Clark. I may not be religious, but I absolutely believe in destiny and the prophecy proves you were meant to be here. That somewhere in the ether the Powers or whoever, saw your soul and found it important enough to send a vision to some unsuspecting seer here on Earth.” She smiled, “No matter what happens, don’t ever feel you don’t belong here.”

“Yeah, for what purpose still remains to be seen.” He said, frowning slightly.

Buffy frowned, “I thought your dad said–”

Clark shook his head, “I’m not talking about why my parents sent me here, I’m talking about the prophecy.”

Understanding suddenly came into her eyes and she sighed, “I’ll try to work on Wes for you, okay? I know it’s frustrating but I don’t think he’s keeping it from us because he’s trying to be malicious or hoard information.” She nodded, “I do believe he’s genuinely trying to protect us, but I’m also not stupid enough to believe that’s the only reason.”

He looked at her surprised by her admission as he watched her take a bite of her pancakes. “What…what do you mean?”

Buffy swallowed and licked the syrup off her lips, using her napkin to dab up the excess. “Honestly, I think they’re trying to protect me from myself. Willow said it herself that day in the ship. There’re some things in it that would seriously wig me. Lorne said we’re soulmates, and I believe him, but it’s more than soulmates and I think you feel it too.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “If the prophecy say’s that we are destined in some way and they told me, there’s a very good chance we would not be sitting here right now because I would constantly be second guessing my feelings. At least that’s what they probably think.”

Clark studied her. She really was impressive, he found himself admiring her the more they got to know each other. “You already knew though, didn’t you?”

“I guessed it might be that in the ship, when Willow said what she said. Earlier that day when you were in my trailer and you left your poem.” Buffy smirked, “Clever by the way.” She said, looking at him appraisingly, before adding, “When you passed me, I felt something I’ve never felt before, it was like I was on fire. It was so powerful that even Hardy noticed my reaction and I was definitely not trying to draw attention to you.”

“Oh yes,” Clark acknowledged. “I remember over hearing that conversation.” He smirked at her, “What was it that you called me? Oh yeah, a well-built redneck with puppy eyes.” Watching her cheeks bloom with color was completely worth bringing it up.

“In my defense,” she said, embarrassment shining in her eyes. “I was trying to get him off your back.” Then she frowned in realization, “Seriously, you can hear that far?”

“I can hear anything on earth if I focus,” He admitted, her eyes widening in surprise. “When I was a kid and it first happened, it was like hearing everything at once. I thought I was going crazy.”

Her eyes softened. “That must have been horrible.”

“It was, and scary. I remember how scared I was.” He met her eyes as he thought about her admitting she already suspected that the prophecy said they were destined. “Can I ask you something?” At her nod, he continued, “Last night you said you usually fight things like this and even your friends thought you would freak-out. Why aren’t you fighting it?”

Her eyes dulled somewhat at the question and she pushed the few remaining bites she had around with her fork. “Honestly,” She paused, looking down at her food. “Honestly, I’m lonely.” She admitted. “I haven’t had this type of connection in years and it feels good.” She met his eyes then a blush staining her cheeks, “I thought about it and decided if the Powers are gonna give me something as beautiful as you after all the crap I’ve been through, then I was okay with that. Even this, just us talking and getting to know each other is more than I’ve had as far as romance goes in…I don’t even know how long. I had no idea how much I needed this kind of thing until I met you.”

Heat filled his cheeks at her words and their eyes remained locked on each other’s for what felt like a long time. Clark reached his hand across the table and placed it on hers.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never felt like anything like this before." He sighed, "I had no idea something as simple as eating breakfast with a beautiful woman, who I don't have to hide from, could feel so good."

Buffy smiled softly, "We are a pair, aren't we?"

He chuckled, and nodded. "That we are."

Buffy’s cell phone rang the next second, her eyes glancing at the caller ID and widening in horror. "Shit," she hissed.

"What... what is it?" Clark asked in alarm.

"It's Dawn." She responded, staring at the phone.

He raised an eyebrow, "And that's a bad thing?"

"If Faith called her and mentioned you, yeah it could be bad." She answered, not taking her eyes off the phone.

"You don't think Faith would tell her what I am do you." Clark said, worry lacing his voice.

Buffy shook her head, "No, she's not that stupid. But I could see her hinting that you are something other as revenge for this morning." She sighed, "Which would just put my sister in a panic."

The phone luckily stopped ringing and Clark watched Buffy sigh in relief, only to have it melt away when her text message chime went off.

He watched her look at the message as the color drained from her face. "Shit!" She said again.

"What does it say?" He asked nervously.

"She said that if I don't pick up the phone, she's gonna show up here, and that I have five minutes." Buffy looked at him nervously and sighed. "Sometimes I really wish we didn't show her how to use her keyness, because unfortunately she's not bluffing."

She looked at him apologetically, "You're about to get the full of Dawn in rant mode, so prepare yourself."

Buffy dialed the number and squeezed her eyes shut as the other line connected and it was answered after the first ring.

“Hello, my beautiful and wonderful sister who doesn’t even bother to let me know she’s back in the amazing U.S. of A.” The sarcasm in the voice alone told Clark that Buffy was about to be chewed out.

“Dawn,” Buffy started, but was cut off immediately.

“So, my dearest sister, Buffy…you mind telling me why my husband is about to send one of his crew members out to fix the door and rent a fan to dry the bed in Faith’s and Gunn’s room?” An extremely sarcastic female voice said over the phone. “Or better yet, who’s this new recruit you’re getting so chummy with…hmm? Also, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were back in the states and not call!”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and Clark bit back his amusement, he had no siblings so this was somewhat fascinating for him. Buffy met his eyes and glared at the amusement dancing there. “Just you wait.” She mouthed, which made his nervousness skyrocket.

“Sorry Dawn,” She sighed. “I should have called, but I had just gotten out of quarantine and Wes was real big on me getting in touch with the new recruit.”

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to deflect like that, because Faith already told me. He felt more powerful than she has felt in long time, but she won’t tell me what he is.” There was a moment of pause before an exasperated tone came over the line. “So, what is he Buffy?”

“It’s not what you–” she started, but Dawn cut her off.

“If you tell me it’s not what I think I will show up there in the middle of Breakers Breakfast, I don’t care how busy it is, now spill!” Buffy’s little sister demanded.

Buffy looked at him and swallowed, “Seriously, this is not the time nor place to start talking about this.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?” Came her sister’s reply.

Buffy’s eyes widened, before quickly blurting, “Have you talked to Wes?”

Dawn paused, “Should I?”

‘Well, this was mostly his idea.” Buffy answered.

“So, Wes is okay with you boinking another demon?” Her sister’s indignant tone came over the line.

“First off,” Buffy growled, making Clark look around to see if anybody was listening. “I haven’t boinked anybody,” she said lowly. “Secondly, he’s not a demon, and third, when the hell did you turn into mom!”

“Maybe when I became a mother.” Dawn said exasperated. “Now give him the phone so I can give him the usual sisterly threats so he can know exactly what kinda hell he’ll reap if he hurts you.”

“Dawn,” Buffy warned.

“Do you actually think I won’t show up there.” Her sister countered.

Buffy’s eyes looked at him apologetically, and he saved her the humiliation of having to ask by holding out his hand. She sighed gratefully and handed him the phone.

“Hello,” Clark greeted.

“Now you listen here bub,” was the first thing she said. “I don’t really care what you are but if you do anything to hurt my sister, I will open a vein and send you to Quor’toth, do you understand?”

Clark cleared his throat. “I have no intention–”

“Of course you don’t,” She interrupted. “They never do. Now put me back on with my sister.” He blinked in surprised and shrugged, handing her back the phone.

“I think your threat was kinda lost on him, Dawn.” Buffy said in amusement, looking at a confused Clark. “I really don’t think he knows what Quor’toth is.”

“Well maybe you should tell him,” Came the snarky reply over the line. “Anyway, you better give me a phone call when you can talk in private, after the kids, me and Xand’s sex life isn’t exactly popping. So, I wanna know everything.”

A blush spread over Buffy’s cheeks, “There’s really nothing to tell Dawn.”

“Liar,” Dawn countered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll call you in a few hours.”

****<S>**<S>****

They had stopped by the school to grab the rest of Clark’s things before he went home. Buffy giving him an extra backpack she had lying around to store them in. Thankfully, both Gunn and Faith were out, so they didn’t have to deal with any unwanted confrontations.

“What time does your flight get in tomorrow?” Clark asked, adjusting the strap on the backpack.

“1000…I mean Ten in the morning.” She answered.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” He asked.

She smiled shyly, “Only if you want to, but there will be quite a lot to do before we can make it to Smallville.”

“Such as?” He asked, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Not really knowing how to stop himself from touching her since he knew he wouldn’t see her again until tomorrow.

“Well,” she said, stepping closer. “I’ve gotta open the safehouse and get you a keycard to get in.” She reached her hand up her fingers running along the seam of his outer shirt. “There will probably be some sort of contract as far as payment for helping us goes, that I’ll need to print out.”

“Payment?” He asked, confused.

Buffy nodded, “Of course, If you help us stop an apocalypse or go on a mission with a bunch of Slayers, you get paid. The amount however, depends on how serious a situation it is.” She looked at him softly, “You didn’t actually think we would ask you to do any of this without some sort of compensation, did you?”

He looked away and shrugged. “I honestly didn’t think about it.”

She smiled, “You really are the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

When he met her eyes, she had moved even closer, but this time he wasn’t scared. His arms immediately wrapped around her and he lowered his head and brushed her lips softly, not taking it any farther than that. He leaned his head against hers and whispered. “I wish I didn’t have to go yet.”

“Me too.” She admitted, “But it’s okay, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” Then her eyes brightened and she pulled away. “I almost forgot, I got you this.” She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a cellphone. “Here.”

“That way, you can call me if you get bored.” She blushed.

He grinned taking the phone from her hand. “Thank you. I definitely will,” and then he sighed as he put the phone in the backpack. “I definitely need to go, my mom’s probably already worried since I didn’t come home last night.”

“Of course.” Buffy said, smiling sadly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Clark leaned forward and they kissed one last time, before he stepped back and shot into the air, looking below at the girl who was slowly changing his world.

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

not going anywhere--ashton irwin oneshot

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

a/n: hey ya’ll, still taking a break but wrote this little fluff piece. mind you it is very self-indulgent. third person but female reader

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

• • • •

Ashton could see the storm in her eyes immediately when she came on their video call. Her eyes were tired and clouded with an emotion he couldn’t quite place but she hasn’t been sleeping all that well. That worries him. He hasn’t been sleeping well either, being away from her and all, but her sleep is more important than his. When together, they both sleep the best, the feeling of her arm over his waist with her nose buried in his back always soothed him.

“Hi angel,” he tries to make his voice uplifting and she returns with a half-smile.

“Hi,” she responds softly and tuckers her chin on her knees. He notices she’s in one of his long sleeves.

“What’s goin’ on?” his brows come together in concern, his face inching closer to the screen. If he were actually with her he would duck his face to her neck, stamping soft kisses to her skin while he held her in his arms.

“It’s nothing,” she shakes her head. “How’s the trip?”

“Y/N, it’s not nothing,” he frowns.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” her voice cracked at the end and her lip trembled.

“Why not? Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t help because you aren’t physically here and I don’t really feel like crying on FaceTime right now, okay?” her voice shook as her emotions betrayed her and slipped out, giving away her hurt.

Ashton sighs and he ruffles his hair with his fingers, a sign of distress and aggravation that he can’t be there to help her with whatever’s happening.

“Okay, okay,” he huffs, “I hate being away from you.”

“I do too,” she sighs. “How is the trip, anyway?”

They transition to normal conversation relating to his current trip across the country with the band to do some interviews and late revelations about their fourth album. It’s strenuous and he didn’t realize how hard it would be getting back into the swing of things. Seven months off—seven glorious months of being alone with her—went by too fast and filled him with a new routine.

He’s missing making dinner with her while Friends plays in the background. He misses helping her with the yoga poses he teaches her and the way she grunts when her breathing gets off from his. Yoga isn’t her favorite thing but it’s something he enjoys and she’s told him she likes doing it with him. That bit of information made his heart soar.

He misses having morning coffee with her, in bed, on the patio, in the kitchen. He misses showering late at night only to have her join him moments later, her fingers running down his back, over his shoulders, then into his hair as she shampoos it for him. He misses laying in bed taking funny photos from filters and giggling into kisses that lead to his fingers lifting up her shirt.

He misses their nightly rituals, their skincare routine combined together made a powerful new one and searching up new music artists on his phone that they inevitably end up loving. He misses the featherlight touch of her fingertips tracing over the grooves of his palm, up his arm and over the red and black ink of his moons.

“Trip’s fine,” he shrugs, “it’s hard getting back into it after having all this time off of rest. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “When will you be home?”

“Two nights’ time, around eight o’clock I think.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she grins.

Ashton’s heart flips at the sentiment. For so long, he’s left an empty house and came back to it even emptier. Now, knowing she’ll be there is making him feel homesick, something he hasn’t felt for a long time. She’s made his house into a home just by filling it with her presence.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

◦○◦●◦○◦

The next forty-eight hours went by gruelingly slow. At the end of it all, Ashton is left exhausted and all he wants is to go home to her, back in his secular bubble of comfort. His muscles are tensed and his mind is on hyperdrive from the overstimulation of the other part of his life returning full throttle.

When the familiar lights at the end of his driveway come in his vision he’s itching in anticipation of being in her presence again. He gathers his bags quickly, the straps dig into his arms but he doesn’t want to make another trip to retrieve them. If he left something he’d get it in the morning.

He lets his things collapse to the floor in a giant heap and he’s half-expecting to see her on the couch waiting for him but she’s not there. Faintly, he hears noises traveling downstairs and he takes them two at a time until he sees her in bed. She’s sprawled across it on her stomach, her face buried into her arms as her body shakes with sobs.

Panicking, he rushes to her side, touching the back of her head carefully so as not to scare her, but she jumps anyway. She’s gasping for air, eyes clamped shut as tears flood down her cheeks. Ashton shifts her into his lap, he holds her close and hears how long she holds her breath as she sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe, baby… breathe,” he hushes rubbing large circles on her back.

She tries to exhale and ends up coughing, the lack of air and sudden rush of it caught her lungs off guard. Her cries still fall as she tries to find her breath and Ashton rocks her from side to side, his lips pressing to her temple.

“I’m right here…you’re all right, I’ve got you…” he hums repeatedly in her ear until her sobs start to subside.

After a few more moments, she lifts her head from his chest—leaving a dark spot of her tears on his shirt—and she gazes up at him with puffy eyes and a splotchy face. Ashton rubs away the excess tears from her cheeks.

“What’s happened?”

“Why doesn’t he love me?” her voice is a whispered crack.

Ashton’s confused, he does love her how could she…? Then realization hits, the ‘he’ in question is her father.

“He loves you, angel,” he tries to soothe by caressing her cheek. She shakes her head adamantly and pushes herself in a sitting position.

“No, he doesn’t. I was never first…he was never around because he was always with friends. Drinking and having a fun time with them. They need help and he goes running, but when I need help it’s the biggest inconvenience for him,” she sniffs. She uses the back of her hand to swipe away at fresh tears. “What did I do, Ashton? Why can’t I…how do I change?”

“No, no,” Ashton shakes his head then scoots closer so she’s trapped between his legs. He holds her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him. “You did nothing. You don’t have to change one bit of you.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I’m tired of vying for his love when it was never there in the first place but I can’t stop…I want to but it’s hard when I want….”

“I know baby, I know,” he kisses her forehead. “You have done nothing wrong, it’s not your fault he doesn’t know how to love you the way that he should.”

“My heart hurts.”

“I know,” he nods slowly then cocks his head until she’s staring into his eyes, “But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere because I love you so damn much. You’ll always be my number one and if there was a number before that, you’d be that as well.”

She sniffs the same time she blinks, and two tears fall freely into her lap then she bites her lip. Ashton smooths his thumb over her lip, pulling it free from her teeth. She lifts her chin a fraction so she’s looking into his eyes.

“You don’t need to change, for anyone. Especially not for someone who can’t see how pretty damn perfect you already are,” he smiles impishly, and it makes her giggle gently. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she nods then holds her hand over his that’s resting on her cheek. “Thank you…for listening and helping.”

He leans forward to give her a soft kiss, once, twice, then before the third he says, “Like I said I’m not going anywhere, angel. I love you.”

She laces her fingers with his on the third kiss, it’s sealed with a promise and filled with love.

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone @dinosaursandsocks @cassie-sos @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @zhangyixingxing1 @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @everyscarisahealingplace @stardust-galaxies @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @lovelybonesetc @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos

#ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin oneshot #ashton irwin #ashton writing #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sos writing #ashton fluff #ashton angst #5sos writing

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theotherackerman · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

Summary:

Reincarnation AU

Everyone is connected someone by an invisible red string of fate, including Mikasa and Eren. This link become very important as they are reincarnated into their new lives 100s of years later. Mikasa has no memories of her past unlike Eren. Eren has been cursed with his memories of all of his past lives. With the help of an entity who takes the shape of Founder Ymir, Eren begins his journey to keep a promise he made in his previous life.

RATING: MATURE

Ships: Eren x Mikasa, Gabi x Falco, Past Levi/Petra , past Levi/Kiyomi, yeah I know it's weird, but you'll see

Other Tags: Reincarnation, Red String of Fate, spoilers for chapter 139, Does not include extra pages for 139

NOTES: I have changed the chapter names on this fic from the original

CHAPTER ONE: EIGHT TIMES

Die.

Live again.

Die.

The first time he dies, he comes back in the form of a bird. He watches over Mikasa. Day and night. He finds ways to let her know that he's here.

Then he is a blue butterfly. He lands in her hair and follows her so she knows it's him. He can't wrap the scrap around her but he does what he can.

Then he is a bird again. Flying so high. He's free.

But none of that matters.

He's never human again.

Not until this time.

Knowing you caused the Rumbling from birth is a struggle.

The first time Eren sees her is in a dream when her half sister’s mom died. He doesn't know why he knows that or how. He just does.

He's here though.

She's crying.

At first, he just watched her. She looks the same as the first time they met.

"You're going to keep missing chances," a voice sang. There stood Ymir Fritz, just as he had seen her all those years ago.

"You're free.."

"Oh. I'm not actually her. I just took this form so it would be easier to talk to you. I'm the opposite of her."

"Are you the one who cursed me?"

"Nope. Not them either. I'm just a watcher. I've been watching you for a long time, Eren Jaeger. That was your name the first time you were born. That is who's soul you are. And she is the other half," the girl smiled up at Eren. "Oh. Right. You can't see the string."

The girl reached up and pressed two of her fingers to his forehead.

Eren felt a surge of power run down his spine.

"That should help. Look,” Ymir Fritz said as she pointed to the long red string that connected from Eren’s finger to Mikasa. “Soulmates,” the girl beamed. “Two halves of the same whole. It’s so amazing to me that they exist. You know they say you were one in some stories. You were too powerful that way. But I don’t know if I believe that. I just know the string exists regardless of anything we believe. Those people are destined to be with one another. That to me is beautiful. Don't miss any more chances."

The Ymir disappears.

Eren sits down on the beach. He looks the same in this human form as he did the last time he was human. Eren looks and sees her staring at him.

He smiles at her.

Neither of them can be more than nine.

“I was wondering when I would get to see you again,” he says as she sits down next to him in the sand.

“Where are we?”

“Paradis. Are you on Marley too?" He asks her, unsure of where she is. It's a large planet and she could be anywhere.

She nods.

"Well that's pretty funny. I don’t think you remember that though. You’re not cursed like me to remember all of it. It’s funny because...well that's not important. I'm just glad we have this time together. I've missed you,” he smiles at her.

There’s something familiar about him that she can’t place. There’s something comforting about him. She knows if anything happened to him, she’d take vengeance on the one that did it.

“At least I'm not a bird this time,” he mutters as he closes his eyes.

She stares at him like he’s grown three heads.

“Why are you crying?” he asks her after a moment.

“My stepmom died,” she mutters before she pulls her legs up to her chest. “I’ve lost my mom...again...now my sister doesn’t have a mom either.” She wraps her arms around her legs, making herself into a tiny ball.

Eren wants to comfort her more than anything but what good would that do? She doesn't know how he is. She doesn’t even know his name and he doesn’t know her name either.

So they sit there in the sand, watching the waves go in and out until Mikasa is woken from her dream.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time the entity using Ymir Fritz’s form appears to Eren is when he is thirteen. Eren is having trouble fitting in at school. When you realize that you are responsible for the rumbling and you killed everyone around you, it’s a little hard to make friends. It’s even harder when a girl asks you out but you see her red string is connected to someone else.

Eren sees them everywhere. Red strings.

“Why did you do this?” Eren asks.

“What?” the entity asks as it moves around the room that is nothing but white light.

“Why did you make me see these? Have I not suffered enough for you? What more do you want from me? I set Ymir free. I brought Mikasa to her. I gave up everything for my friends, my family. Why is that not enough? I just want to be normal! Why won’t you let me be normal?”

The entity sighs, “Eren, you’re not normal. Neither is Mikasa. You’re heroes. You’re the sort of people they write legends about. You’re anything but normal. You’re special!”

“But I don’t want to be special! Why can’t you leave me alone? Let me just have this! Let me just have her!”

The entity changes the room.

They’re watching the Wall Titans move. The Rumbling has begun.

“NO!” Eren yells.

The scene changes.

They’re back in the room of white light.

“Oh! Now that’s interesting. You sure do catch on fast.”

Eren grabs the girl and slams her against one of the white walls. “Stop it. I’m not some toy for you to play with. I’m a human!”

“Are you? Or are you a monster?”

The entity disappears.

Eren is alone in the room with the white light and the white walls.

It feels like a century later when Mikasa finally shows up.

“What is this?” she asks him as she pulls on the string.

“Red string of fate. Have you never heard of it?” he asks.

“I thought it was a myth,” she says as she pulls on it. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. See, I get to know everything. How many times we’ve done this. I get all our past history and you get...nothing. Well, I guess not nothing, you’re having these dreams with me. Curses are funny. I broke one and got another. Well, technically, you broke it. Why don’t you just pick someone else? Move on from me?”

She stares at him. “I don’t want to.”

Where did that come from?

She doesn’t even know the boy in front of her.

But the idea of moving on from him makes her very soul hurt.

She can’t do this.

She can’t.

There will never be anyone else.

There never has been anyone else.

It’s only him.

“Oh,” he replies. “I told you to. Then again, you never did listen to me.”

“Probably a good thing I didn’t,” she replies as she crosses her arms across her chest. “You’re stupid, you know? You tell me this is a red string of fate and then you ask me why I haven’t moved on. A red string of fate represents destiny. Soulmates. Why would I want anything else?”

“Because it never works out.”

“Well stop messing it up then,” she tells him as she uncrosses her arms.

He laughs.

“It’s not funny!”

“No, you’re right. It’s not. You mind if I change the scenery?”

She shakes her head.

He waves his hand and it changes.

They’re somewhere in a garden in summer.

There are fireflies flying through the air.

Mikasa looks around amazed by the view.

“Wow, have we been here before?” she asks.

“No, it’s from someone else’s memory I got back then. I’m not even sure where this is.”

And it is. The flowers. The gentle breeze. Trees swaying in the breeze.

Some of the fireflies land in Mikasa’s hair causing her to laugh.

“This is beautiful,” Mikasa says as she holds her hand out and a firefly lands in it.

“Yeah, it is,” Eren says.

But the boy isn’t looking at the landscape.

He’s looking at her.

She picks a flower and hands it to him.

It’s a white hydrangea.

“Why this one?” he asks her as she takes it.

“I think it represents gratitude,” she replies.

How did she know this?

She didn’t know.

He smiles at her.

“Can we just sit and watch the fireflies?” she asks him.

He nods.

And they do.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Eren…..” the entity calls to him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Oh come on, you’re not being any fun for me. Besides, I have good news for you.”

Eren looks over at her, clearly annoyed.

“So you are cursed, just like you thought. But not by me. Actually, I’m here to make it a little easier on you.”

“And why would you do that?” Eren asks as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Consider it a favor. This will be the last time you’ll see me for a long time as I’m changing things just for you. I won’t have any power to keep this form. So I’m going to send an old friend of yours to you. I think having a friend will be good for you. Plus, I’ve always loved a little chaos. Besides, it’ll be much easier to break your curse this time. All you have to do...is get it right,” the entity explains.

“Get what right?” Eren asks, confused.

“....you’ll see. Look out for your friend. In the meantime, enjoy your time with her. She’ll be arriving soon,” the entity says before giving a wave and disappearing.

Mikasa shows up hours later.

They’re nowhere fancy tonight.

Just her bedroom.

At least Eren guesses its her bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her.

She explains that she’s in trouble in the first semester of her freshman year of high school for an outburst in her history class.

She hates it there.

She hates hearing about all these titans.

She hates the slander.

Wait, how does she know it’s slander?

Why is she so angry?

“I don’t think what Eren did was right but there has to be a reason for it. I don’t think you can just dismiss him as a monster. He did monstrous things but didn’t Marley do it too? I don’t get it. Why is it okay for one country to do it and not the other?” she asks him, completely frustrated with the situation. “Marley and Paradis are both to blame. Or maybe it’s King Fritz. Either way, we can’t just dismiss Eren as evil no more than we can dismiss Reiner as evil. He broke the wall, didn’t he?”

“So you’re the angry one this time,” he says as he sits down on her bed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asks as she crosses her legs.

“Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything,” he tells her.

She nods.

“Who are you?” she asks him.

“Just...someone. Your soulmate,” he answers.

“Do you have a name?” she asks, her bottom lip trembles.

“Eren, I’m Eren,” he answers her before he stands up. He examines the bookshelf in her bedroom. There’s a picture of her and someone who looks like Levi. There’s another little girl in the picture. She looks like Gabi. What a strange family, Eren thinks.

“Maybe that’s why I feel like I have to protect Eren because you share a name with him,” she tells him as she stands up and walks over to him. “I’m Mikasa.”

“I know.”

“You know? How?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry. I’ll see you again,” and Eren leaves Mikasa alone as he wakes up in the real world.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fourth time they meet, they’re back on the beach.

“It’s been awhile,” he says.

“Not that long,” she answers him as she sits down next to him in the sand.

“What happened?” he asks her.

“I got stood up. My prom date. He..uhh...he stood me up and I got to cry myself to sleep.”

“He’s an idiot, you know?” he tells her. The reality is that Eren wants to find this guy and punch his face in.

“I feel like an idiot. Did I know him before?”

He shakes his head. “Dunno who he is..”

“Maybe I’m just not good enough. I feel like I always get left behind,” she starts crying again.

He holds her until her tears cease.

“Get up,” he says as he stands up and offers her a hand.

Music begins to play.

She takes his hand.

And they dance there on the beach.

Together.

Until she’s awoken from her dream and fades from the scene.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fifth time they meet is in person.

Mikasa is far from home, touring a college that has been recommended to her.

She bumps into him as she’s walking.

“Sorry,” she calls back to him as she is late to meeting up with the touring group.

Her head aches afterwards.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sixth time they meet is when Eren bumps into her in a hurry to get to a job interview.

“Watch where you’re going!” she yells at him.

If only she knew the irony.

She gets another headache that afternoon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her art is on display at an art show.

She sees him for the briefest of moments.

The words get caught in her throat.

She wants to make her way towards him.

She has to make her way towards him.

But there are too many people trying to talk to her.

She should be networking but all she’s thinking about right now is getting to the boy who has been haunting her dreams since she was a child. She has to talk to him.

But by the time she made it where he was standing, he was gone.

And she is heartbroken.

She has a migraine that night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The eighth time she sees him is the night after her graduation from college.

He’s in her dreams.

They’re back in that white room.

“I tried to find you that night! Why did you run?”

“I...I...couldn’t face you yet,” he tells her.

She tugs on the string again.

“Stop!” He yells at her.

“Why? Clearly, it doesn’t mean anything to you!”

“What if we’re doomed? What if that’s part of this new curse? What if you die because of me?”

“What if I don’t care?”

“You do. I should go.”

“But we’re meant….”

He’s gone.

She’s alone in the white room.

The memories of him disappear.

She awakes feeling empty but couldn't figure out why.

#invisstring #my writing

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theartofpodcasting · 3 years

Note

also, ik ren already touched on this but if you have any suggestions for how you want the intro/outtro music to sound 👀

👀

so i’m going to start with saying i literally am not musically inclined AT ALL so i 100% trust your judgement more than mine? so if you’re thinking one thing and then i recommend something that’s completely the opposite, feel free to just ignore me. this podcast is literally just us vibing, so we just want some music to vibe with that, y’know?

that said...i used to be obsessed with the podcast Potterless (which is basically a guy reading harry potter expecting to hate it, but slowly falling in love. don’t worry tho, he says fuck jkr too!! we don’t support transphobia here (duh!)) and the theme music for that is basically an edited version of the hp theme. and i don’t know how audio plagiarism works (as i’m sure is clear by the fact that i forgot the word *copyright*) so idk how possible this is or isn’t, but i thought it could be cool to maybe use the avatar intro/other iconic song from the soundtrack so that it was familiar but like make it our own (partially so we don’t get sued, but mostly cause we want to curate our own vibe!) (originally when i thought of this idea i liked the idea of using the iconic atla theme cause it’s such a bop, but also (somewhere in my notes i have something about how lok is so soothing and then atla is just BOOM A CHAKAKA or whatever) but....a more zuko specific song might be really cool, especially since this is a zuko-centric podcast. so, i’ll leave that to your amazing brain cells i guess?)

i hope that made sense, abby and ashla please feel free to add on and anyone who’s taking a stab at intro/outrro music ily and do whatever you want, it’ll be amazing

-boom

#mod boom #the art of asks

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lettersofwrittencollective · 4 years

Text

After the Last City (3)

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Thomas x Reader

Word Count: 1352

Warnings: Angst

Summary: The most beautiful sound in the world

Prompt: How about a death cure fic where Thomas and everyone else thought y/n died amid the chaos of the city falling. The last time anyone saw her was when Thomas ran off after having killed Newt and she never made it back to the Berg. They get a sos radio call about a month latter where it’s her contacting them letting them know that she survived. She was injured and has no way of making it to the safe haven. Now they have to travel back to the fallen city to rescuer her from the cranks and what is left of civilization. - Courtesy of @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8

A/N: I tried something new, hope you guys enjoy this! Gif credit to the oh so wonderful @dylinski Thank you so much for letting me use it babe! I normally

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It didn’t take long to find Vince.

He had been in the gardens with Newt earlier but had apparently gone to check on what some of the builders were doing in the local forest.

When they found the older man, Thomas quickly explained what he wanted to do and why he wanted to do it. Surprisingly, Vince had agreed, almost instantly, Y/N being one of the people he’d always had a soft spot for. The reality was that she had that effect on everyone and Thomas had never been so grateful for it before.

Plans were quickly made. He would go with Newt, Gally, Minho, Vince, Frypan, Sarah, Michael, Ruben, Brenda and Jorge. They would leave Aris and Harriett in charge here.

Then it came time to sit down and actually make the plan.

The group that was going, Aris and Harriet got together and started to work on what the plan would get you back in his arms.

“I say we sail here,” Vince pointed out a very familiar spot on the map.

It was the inlet for the compound they’d used to hide the kids from WICKED last time. When they had planned to save Minho but failed…

“We can’t be sure that WICKED hasn’t taken over,” Gally pointed out.

“Then we’ll find somewhere else,” Thomas grit out, turning to glare at the man, “but we are not giving up on Y/N.”

“Relax Greenie,” Gally surrendered with a raise of his hands, “No one’s saying that we do that. I’m just pointing out we need to be sure that we can even land We won’t do her any good if we manage to get caught ourselves.”

Glaring at the other boy, Thomas looked over to the map. He hated that he knew that Gally was right. Looking over the map, he traced the shores of where it was that Vince had proposed they land.

There really wasn’t a better place to land. They would have to find a way to make this work.

He could hear Vince, Gally and Newt talking about different options they could try.

Vince was trying to figure out if maybe there would be a better time to go. He’d tried to suggest waiting a few months butThomas had immediately shot the idea down. There was no way that he was going to hold off on getting back to you.

As they talked, he realized he knew where they needed to land.

Quickly, he told them his idea and the group of them moved back and forth, refining the idea until they came up with something that everyone seemed to agree on.

It took them a few hours, but eventually they came up with something solid. They would sail out and drop anchor about 12 miles offshore, enough to ensure that if anyone was in the camp, they wouldn’t be able to see the ship. At that point, Thomas, Vince, and Newt would wait for dark before taking one of the smaller boats and they would make their way to shore..

Once the three of them made sure that the area wasn’t run over by Wicked or Cranks, that it was safe, Thomas and Newt would stay while VInce went back to grab the others and bring them in leaving Sarah, Michael, and Ruben on the larger ship to keep it safe.

It was a solid plan that Thomas was looking forward to and the sooner that they got to it, the better.

The problem came with the ship itself… apparently while working on the ships radio, Thomas had failed to notice that the ship itself was in desperate need of repairs.

Barnacles had managed to overgrow on the hull of the ship and they had to take the time to not only kill the arthropods but also scrape them off. Something they could only do during the low tide.

In addition to that, some of the gearing had needed to be greased.

The good thing? The ship had everything they needed to get it back in working order. It was just a matter of doing the manual work.

Thomas had gone at it alone at first. A habit from days past.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think that he wouldn’t get help if he asked for it. It was that it never occurred to him to actually ask the others for help.

Newt and Frypan had joined him in the first hour, helping him carry freshwater from one of the inland rivers.

Gally had brought some of the builders and they all took turns rotating between who would scrape the barnacles. Gally was always working on the hull, along with two other builders.

Frustrated with the pace at which things were moving, he had wanted to snap at Gally but had to remind himself that the Haven still needed to be put together. That they were building something for the future.

It did nothing for his mood though.

He found himself getting more and more anxious. The few times that he would join the others for chow, he couldn’t help the feeling of restlessness.

His leg would bounce, his hands couldn’t stay still, no matter what he did, it was like his body knew that the sooner he got this done, the sooner he would get you back.

Working with the others, thankfully, it had taken less than a month to get the ship back up and running. Still, the month had felt like it had dragged on longer than he liked.

But, eventually, they were on their way.

He lost track of time while they were on the ship. Sitting on the roof above the helm, his eyes kept searching the horizon for the first sign that they’d arrived.

The trip back to the inlet had felt like it had taken months longer than the trip to the safe haven. He’s sure it’s because he’s anxious to have her back, but it doesn’t stop the frustration.

He pulls out a letter, one that he had written just in case things went bad. The letter bore the deepest parts of him, at least, as far as he knew how to express them. In it he’d told her about how he felt… How he was sorry that he wasn’t there with her.

He told her of the day he realized just how much he loved her and he listed off just some of the few things about her that never failed to take his breath away.

Like the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating.

The way her eyes lit up like the night sky when she learned something new.

Or how your body would practically vibrate with whatever emotion you felt.

As the days pass, he finds himself either on the roof of the helm, reading the letter over and over again or in the radio room. Each time he reads the note, he begs whatever diety may be listening to bring you back to him. Eventually, he spends most of his time in the radio room, making calls for his girl. The closer they get, the more he makes calls out.

The calls are made for Marina.

He hadn’t understood it when the name first occurred to him and to this day he isn’t sure what caused it but the first time he’d called her Duchess it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As they continued, Thomas tried time and time again but each time received no response.

He couldn’t even remember how many times he’d called but nothing was heard back. No one was responding.

Groaning, he tossed the the mouthpiece down and began to storm out of the small room.

A crackling sound caught his attention, however, and he turned around. It was the first time that he had gotten anything out of the damned contraption.

He waited a moment when the static became more intense.

Making his way back towards the radio, his heart stops as he hears the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Tommy… Please tell me you can hear me?”

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought! Comments, reblogs, asks… I live for all these! So sorry thhis is so short but it just felt right ya know?

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Posted21January 2020

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psycheswritings · 4 years

Text

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Ten

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, mentions of death and war, a very litght hint at sex and Grace (because I thought that I should warn you about her).

Word Count: 5577

Author’s Note: Here we are, back with another chapter of Thomas and Daphne's story. The information that I will list bellow can be interpreted as spoilers for some things mentioned in this chapter, so if you want to skip it, you can come back and read it later.

1. The Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corps really exists but I changed some information for the sake of the plot, like they accepting someone so young in the ranks, because from what I found the recruiting age was 25 at the time. 2. The medals received by Daphne are all real too and, same thing as the item above, I changed things a little and I'm not an expert on this things. 3. If you want to read more about these things, let me know, I have some links from my research.

That's it. As always, thanks for not abandoning me. If you find any mistakes feel free to report it back to me. Tags are at the end of the post and if you want to be added, let me know. Your feedback is also highly appreciated. Happy reading.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy meets Grace and they rekindle some old feelings, in the meantime, Daphne goes visit Arthur on the prison. The blue eyed gangster decides to read Daphne's file and discovers some very important information about her. William goes talk to Daphne and she reveals to him that she is feeling lost.

Ten

True to her word, Daphne was at the bakery the next day bright and early. She ignored the glances from the men and headed straight to her office only to find Alfie there, sitting on her chair, waiting for her. Taking a deep breath she closed the door behind her, knowing that delaying the inevitable wouldn’t bring them any good. He didn’t said anything, just stood up, walking to the window and staring out as she took off her gloves, coat and hat, putting them away before getting comfortable on the chair.

“Harriet talked to you?” She wasn’t expecting an apology - Daphne knew better than anyone that apologizing wasn’t his thing and she was pretty sure that Alfie didn’t regret what he had done.

“Yes, she did.” He murmured something that she didn't recognized and it was as if they didn’t wanted to acknowledge each other, like they were miles apart instead of just a few meters. Alfie turned to face her, there were bags under his eyes, a bruise on his cheek and he seemed tired. Good, she thought, at least he was having as much trouble as she was.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

“I know.”

“But I regret the things I said.” He averted his eyes from her, almost as if trying to avoid her stare. She didn’t answer and that made him a little anxious, enough to make him look at her again.

“I know.” Alfie hummed, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking more vulnerable than she had seen in years.

“Are you coming home?” He knew, deep down, that he was asking too much of her in such a short notice but the house seemed strange without her and Alfie hated to admit that since they came back from France he wasn’t used to be alone anymore.

“No.” Sensing that he wanted to argue with her, she silenced him with a wave of her hand. There was a long pause where neither of them said nothing, they didn’t even looked at each other, then Daphne took a deep breath, lifting her gaze to met his eyes. “Since we met each other in France I haven’t really noticed how much I have become dependant on you. How much I have changed and ignored things because I didn’t want to lose you.”

His eyes widened at her confession and he took a step forward, towards the desk. They never talked much about their relationship, since the beginning it was an easy arrangement to slip in - they worked well together, just like he had worked well with Benjamin, they respected each other and with time they had built a beautiful friendship. More than that, Daphne was family, more than the few ones whom he shared blood with. Nonetheless it was foreign for him to hear her acknowledged it like that.

“And I haven't noticed until now that I’ve lost myself in the process.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you made me realize that I don’t know who I am anymore. This is one of the reasons why I can’t go home. I think we need to be away from each other for a while, Alfie.” As expected, his reaction wasn’t all that good.

“Why? I swear I will give you all the space that you want, you don’t even have to talk to me…” She noticed the desperation on his voice and she would be lying if she said that she really wanted to go home.

“That’s the thing, Alfie. If I go back I know we will just brush it off after a week, maybe less than that. I can’t let that happen, not again.”

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After Esme left with John, Tommy walked to Charles's yard, trying to keep his thoughts in order. But everytime he thought about meeting Grace, his brain seemed to find a way to remind him of Daphne and once more his aunt’s words echoed inside his head, like in the time he had gone to see May: ‘She will have her heart broken by the man that she loves… Will you be that man, Tommy?’.

When he arrived at the stables, Curly was there shoveling sit. So he took his coat off, putting it aside and picking up one of the rakes that rested against the wall.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” Curly asked him when he started shoveling.

“Shovelling shit, Curly. Just like you.”

“And why are you doing that, Tommy?” The man asked again, confused, still observing him.

“To remind myself of what I'd be if I wasn't who I am.” The both of them worked together for some minutes until Charles appeared on the door. He observed the pair for some time and then asked.

“Tommy? What's going on?”

“I think Tommy's lost his mind, Charlie!” Curly said, laughing, just before Tommy stopped and handed the rake to Charlie.

“Well, it's honest work, Curly but I don't want to get used to it, so I'll need six cans of petrol. Bring them to the garage, put them in the back of the car.” He said as he put his coat and hat back, patting Curly on the back on his way out, ignoring his uncle shouting behind him and trying to convince himself that this meeting was business, nothing else.

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James had just left when he heard the knock on the front door. Tommy took a deep breath before opening it. She was different from what he remembered - hair shorter, expensive clothes and jewelry - but at the same time there was something still familiar to him.

“Tommy.”

“Grace.” He stepped back, making room for her to enter. He helped her with her coat and guided her to the living room.

“Is this your house?” She asked as he closed the door behind them, fingers nervously playing with her clutch.

“Yes. Have a seat.” He passed by her, taking away the cushion resting on the armchair before he sat down, finding her sitting opposite him.

“Do I not get a drink?”

“Please.” He pointed to where the drinks were, on a table nearby, not giving her much attention as he took out a cigarette from the case, placing it between his lips.

“You want one?” Grace offered as she got up.

“Yes.”

“Still whisky?”

“Yes.” She poured two glasses as he struck the match to light the cigarette.

“But other things have changed. I saw vans with your name on at the docks.”

“Yes, some things have changed.” Tommy tried not to think about how much things have changed. How things were definitely not the same as they were when she left for America. Grace walked to him, giving him the glas and lingering for a moment. When he didn’t make a move or said a word, she resigned herself to sit on the couch, closer to him than she was before.

“Tommy, I really wasn't sure about coming tonight…” She was looking at him but he was staring at the door, just behind her.

“I lit a fire in the bedroom upstairs.” He inhales and exhales loudly. “My plan was that we sit here for awhile and talk about old times, drink some whisky. And I was going to tell you I hadn't spent a day without thinking about you. And then we were going to go upstairs and sleep together. But just now, on the way to opening the door, I changed my mind. So just have one drink, tell me how happy you are in New York and then you can go.” It wasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t a lie either. He had thought about her on most days during the past two years and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t felt nothing when he saw her there at the door. Yet, it would also be a lie to say that she was the only one on his mind right now - as she hadn’t been for the past few months.

“You changed your mind?” Her tone was almost surprised.

“Mmm. So you can go.”

“As a matter of fact, I am happy in New York. And I am married.” He had predicted that - the defensive act she would put, trying to sound offended as if she hadn’t being writing to him all this time, even when he hadn't’ answered her, even after she married. In the end, it just seemed like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

“Oh, yeah, he's rich, I know.”

“And he's sweet and he's kind to me, so what makes you think that I would have gone to bed with you after one whisky and some conversation?”

“I was accounting for three whiskies.”

“How dare you?” In her defense, she really tried to seem bothered by his behavior, even though she had know him well enough in the past to know how he dealt with things.

“Doesn't matter now, because I've changed my mind.”

“I came here because you asked me.”

“Even though he's sweet and he's kind to you?”

“And now I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, then go.”

“Jesus.” She didn’t made a move to get up or to leave and he waited for a moment before speaking again.

“But you're still here.”

“Are you so certain?” She challenged, looking at him again.

“That you're still in love with me?” He paused before continuing. “I was, but I'm not any more.” There was another moment of silence before he asked her. “You're not armed, Grace, are you?”

“No, I'm not armed. I don't carry guns. I don't have to.” The blond spat the words at him like venom.

“You don't have a sense of humour anymore, either.”

“What are you talking about?” The woman looked at him, confused, then Tommy lift his arms in a mock surrender, before going to sit beside her on the couch.

“Thing is, I hate reunions. I didn't want to sit here for hours talking about nothing and dancing around what we really want to say. So now I know you're happy in New York. I know your husband's rich and sweet and kind to you. I know you're unarmed and you didn't come here for sex, because you don't love me anymore. And it's only three minutes past.” The way she looks at him says everything he needs to know. “Another drink?” He gets up and she doesn’t say anything. “I'll take that as a yes.” Tommy takes the bottle from the table and turns to face her. “It's good to see you, Grace.”

“So you didn't light the fire?” He ignores her question as she follows his movements with her eyes, expectantly, and Tommy takes a sit on the armchair again.

“You see, my real plan was that we go out. I want to impress you. Now, do you like Charlie Chaplin?”

“Yes, I like Charlie Chaplin.” Grace says, smiling.

“Good. But I bet you've never heard Charlie Chaplin speak.” He takes her to the party where Chaplin is promoting his film, introduces her to him and takes his leave to phone Campbell.

“Hello, Mr Campbell. You said you knew my sister's address in Primrose Hill. So I expect you have men watching the house, to see who comes and goes. Well, tonight, your men will see me return to the house with a very beautiful woman. She will stay until just before midnight. Course, I'll close the curtains. Can you guess who the woman is?”

“Liar!” The Irishman says from the other end of the line.

“Sleep well, Mr Campbell.”

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When they come back to the house and he kisses her, she does little to fight him, giving in to him quite easily.

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” He doesn’t answer her but his mind wanders, bringing back memories of things that happened in the kitchen of this same house. “It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11, Grace.” They keep kissing as they talk. He knows Campbell’s man had seen them arrive, so he probably knew by know that the woman who was with Tommy was Grace, indeed.

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York…”

“I had things to do.”

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?” Always with the questions. He stopped, looking at her before speaking.

“It couldn't have worked. What was the question?” Tommy leaned in, kissing her again and she asked him one more time when they parted.

“Tommy, do you have someone?”

“I have a race horse. She's going to win the Derby.” Grace seemed satisfied with his answer as she kissed him again when in truth she didn’t truly understood the meaning of his words.

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“When do you sail back?” He asks her as they dress themselves afterwards.

“We don't know yet.”

“You don't have a return ticket?” Tommy is confused at her answer.

“This wasn't right, Tommy.” Again, it seems like she is trying to convince herself of her own words.

“When do you go back, Grace?”

“They're doing tests on us. I don't know when they'll be finished. We're having treatment. A doctor in Harley Street. Some new thing. A breakthrough. We're trying for a baby.” He looks at the couch, weighs the information for a moment, then looks back at her.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“The doctor believes it's surely me who's at fault.” She defends herself and he feels bad for her for a moment, still unsure of what to think about it.

“I am sorry. It is no-one's fault.”

“I'm tired of that.”

“You're still working under cover, eh?” She slaps him across the face before saying.

“I've never lied to him once.”

“Well, you’re not telling him the truth either.”

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There are some things that come together with the job when you work with a gangster, Daphne learned that in her first year in London, right after the war, when she was still getting the hang of it. One of them was that her name not only opened some doors - and closed others - but some people feared it to. It was hard to say if this was due to what she could do or if it was because of Alfie’s protectiveness.

However, the Jew never had a good relationship with the police and Daphne knew that she was only standing here right now because of the influence of her grandfather’s surname. They opened the door to the cell and she braced herself for the confront. The police officer led her inside, staying a step in front of her, weary about the prisoner’s behavior. Arthur looked up at her and laughed, sarcastically.

“You’re here to see the job done, love?” He didn’t moved from the cot he was currently sitting on. One of the other guards brought a chair for her and moved to put handcuffs on the eldest Shelby.

“There is no need for that. I’m sure that Arthur is not going to hurt me.” The two policeman looked at her and then at each other, doubtfully, while she looked at the Shelby brother, who was staring at the wall. He had blood on his face and clothes, probably from being beaten both in the jail. “If something happens you can say it was on me.” They nodded, still unsure, but left her alone with the Shelby anyway, knowing that whatever fate was waiting for them, the better thing to do was not to mess with her. Daphne sat on the chair, crossing her legs and resting her intertwined hands on her lap. After a moment, Arthur looked up at her but didn’t say anything.

“I know I’m probably not your favorite person at the moment but…”

“That’s an understatement, love.” She sighed, feeling defeated, and then he continued. “But you’re the first that bothered to come here, so I’m willing to let you talk just the see something different for a moment.” Daphne nodded, taking a deep breath - it was a beginning, at least.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He stared at her, analyzing her apology.

“You didn’t knew, then.” It wasn’t a question but the woman felt the need to clarify some things anyway.

“No. Alfie didn’t tell me anything.” Arthur hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the light coming from between the bars on the small window and then at her.

“Because of Tommy.” The surprise on her face made him laugh. “Oh, love. People think that my brother is the most intelligent on the family, and they are right in doing so, but I’m not that stupid either. I see the way he looks at you.” She said nothing to the observation and silence filled the cell for a moment to long.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t it?” Arthur looked at her then and the woman felt trapped in his gaze. “Then why are you here?”

“I want to help get you out of here.” He tried to conceal the surprise on his face but did a terrible job at it. “I’m talking to a few people, asking for some favours…”

“It isn’t easier to try and convince that Jewish bastard to change his version of the facts?” Daphne took a deep breath before answering.

“We’re not exactly into talking terms.” Arthur kept quiet, just staring at her for a moment and she didn’t even notice that in the meantime her fingers had automatically searched for the locket hanging from her neck. The gesture so ingrained in her behavior that she only realized she was playing with it when Arthur pointed it out.

“What’s so important about this necklace of yours?” His face filled with curiosity as he points his finger in the direction of her chest. She looks down and sighs, weighing her options. Then she takes the necklace off, her thumb brushing the locket one more time before piling it up on her palm and extending it for the man to take. Arthur reaches for the jewelry after a moment of hesitation, looking up at her before opening it.

He recognizes the young girl on the photograph - there’s no mistaking it when her older version is right in front of him - but is the boy who catches his attention.

“This is Benjamim.” She pauses and Arthur notices the pain in her tone. The eldest Shelby rearranges himself in the cot, sitting at the edge of it, closer to her, the jewelry still on his hands. “He was my brother.” His eyes search for hers and his expression softens a little.

“France?”

“Yeah.” Daphne thinks for a moment about what to say next. It’s been a while since she talked about this with somebody. “He died in an ambush, I never had the chance to say goodbye to him.”

“You were there too, weren’t you?”

“Yes. Military nurse.” Arthur seemed a little surprised at the information, even knowing that she had medical training.

“Weren’t you a little younger to be in the ranks at the time?” She smiled at the concern in his voice, remembering that Polly had done something similar.

“I lied on the registry, they overlook it because there were not that much people with proper training.” Daphne remembers the day they took the photograph, the way he looked in his uniform and how she would give anything to see him at least one more time. It was a strange feeling, because it not a day had passed by without her thinking about him, but talking about it wasn’t any less difficult despite the years. They stayed in silence for a long time, then he approached her, taking her hand in his and placing the necklace back into her palm.

“You are too good to that Jewish bastard.” She opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by the words he said next. “And to my brother.”

“Arthur…”

“But maybe you’re just what they need, eh.” He stared at her for a moment, still holding her hand. “Don’t worry too much about me, love, I think you already have much on your mind. Just be careful.” They heard the guards approaching the door and Arthur sat back on the cot. “Thank you for coming.” She nodded at him before the officers guided her out of the cell.

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Tommy lost count of how many time he had been looking at the closed drawer of his desk, the one where he had kept Daphne's file. Since John had given it to him, the Brummie gangster had been engaged in an internal debate about reading it or not.

A part of him felt that it was downright disrespectful to read her personal record like that - he knew that he hated when people mentioned his military history as they knew shit about him, she must feel the same way. Therefore, he ignored the file all he could. But after last night, after what happened at the wedding, the information was calling to him, literally within reach of his hands as he sat in his office, a glass of whiskey resting on the desk and a cigarette between his fingers.

He called Lizzie, said to her that she could go home and to lock the doors on her way out, so he would be alone. When he was sure that she had left, he opened the drawer and took the file, resting it on the desk right in front of him.

Scrambling over the many documents, he found her enlistment form. There was a photograph of her attached to it, in a nurse uniform and a serious expression on her face, hair neatly tied. Despite the circumstances, Tommy still found her beautiful. She was a part of the Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service, having volunteered at age eighteen. She served as a nurse in all four years of the war, in all kinds of places and was present in some of the worst battles getting to the rank of Senior Sister.

There were a lot of compliments from her superiors, a letter of recommendation from the Matron, information about the decorations she had earned - the military medal, a royal red cross and the most impressive of all, a Victoria Cross - but what really caught his attention was the information that came next.

Her brother had died in combat while she was there. When she received the news, in the middle of an offensive by the Germans, she continued to treat the patients even when relieved from work by her superiors.

“Fuck.” He leaned into the chair, his fingers brushing the photograph as he thought about what he had just read. Tommy had a tendency to forget that the war affected many families, it wasn’t a privilege of his own. He tried to remember all their interactions from the beginning - how she wasn’t frightened by him, how she didn’t felt disturbed by displays of violence, how she dealt with his and his brothers injuries like it was nothing - it all made sense now. They weren’t so different, after all.

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“Look.” May walked sideways from where they were heading. “Come” She said, stopping by the water fountain and motioned for him to come closer with her hand. When he approached, he saw goldfish swimming into the clear water. “Does it really stop the horses from getting worms?”

“Yep. It really does.” He took a drag of his cigarette, observing the fish for a moment. This was as good a time as any.

“Anyway, I thought it would make you smile.” When he didn’t said anything she continued. “I'm sorry that you had to drive through the night. Must be exhausted. You can go and sleep if you want.”

“May. We have to stop. This.” He turns to face her and points to the both of them. “I came here to tell you we have to stop.”

“Why?” She tooks a step closer to him. “Because I'm me and you're you? That old thing?”

“There's someone.” She seems surprised by that. “And I didn't want you to think anything about how it's going to be after the race.” he clears his throat while she looks away for a second. “Not many of your people know about me so I haven't done the damage that would come.”

“‘My people’?” May furrows her brows at him.

“But the damage isn't done, is what I mean.” He is a little unsure about how to deal with the situation, it’s been a while since he had to deal with things like that.

“Right.”

“And even if it's like this, I want the horse to stay here.”

“To stay. Yes, of course.”

“Epsom is close…”

“And I haven't got my outfit yet, so it's all right.” She looks away from him again.

“You can still be with me in the enclosure.”

“Very gracious of you, Sir.” Her tone brings together the hurt and the mockery she is feeling at the moment.

“You can wear something...”

“It's funny, isn't it, because you'll be up there and I'll be down in the ring. Sort of upside down, isn't it?”

“You can still be with me after and you can still wear something...”

“I will be covered in mud, from the ring.” May cuts him off, again.

“May, forget about men like me...” As he takes a step closer to him she walks away, circling the water fountain and standing opposite from him.

“I was going to tell you how much she's improved.” He turns to her, hands in his pockets.

“There are other men, May…”

“I think she stands a chance of placing, Sir.” She is trying to redirect, to sound stronger than she is, but there is no denying the tears she is holding back. “The silly part of our business is done. Are you going to drive straight off to Birmingham, or…?” He tilts his head and observes her.

“What if I said, huh, ‘All right, I'll stay’? After what I just said.” She stares back at him and then answers.

“Then that would be alright.” Tommy looks at the ground as she speaks again. “You talk about damage. The damage not yet done. You don't think half of London already thinks that I am fucking a racketeer? Laughing about it. Laying bets on when you'll steal the silver. You think your people are ruthless? Try mine.”

“So that is why you carry on, eh? Because you can't back down.”

“Amongst many other illogical reasons. So will you drive straight off, or? I haven't got any petrol in the garage.” And then he understands that despite how their relationship had started, May had really developed some kind of feeling for him besides the physical attraction.

“I have some cans of petrol in the car.”

“Good. So you can go.” After a moment, he clears his throat and walks away, only to turn around and walk back to the fountain, placing his foot at the end of the it and resting one of his arms on his leg.

“They look happy in there, eh? And why wouldn't they be?” May walks to stand beside him and asks.

“Who is she?” The image his mind conjures makes him take a deep breath.

“Someone who's sailing away.”

“So let her sail.” She says and he looks at her as she comes closer. “You've told me about her like a gentleman. Now kindly behave like a gangster again. Feel sorry for me, it's fine. Because your horse will come fifth or sixth. But I will win you.” As Thomas observes her walk away the only thing he can think about is that his heart is already taken.

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She holds onto him like she needs something to remind herself that she is still real, that she is alive. William just hugs her back, kissing the top of her head as he holds her, letting her take her time, knowing that this was probably the most trying times she has had since France.

“Thank you.” Daphne says when she releases the hold on him and he sees how much the fight had affected her. He had seen her in some very bad situations - covered in blood, both from her and from patients; working alone in injuries that require a lot more of personnel to deal with; taking one more shift even when she was clearly exhausted; working while injured; and the list goes on - but the situation at hand was clearly different. She looked defeated.

“You look horrible.” She tried to smile but it didn’t reached her eyes.

“That’s exactly what any woman needs to hear.”

“You’re not just any woman.” He closed the door behind him and followed her into the room. Daphne threw herself into the unmade bed, unceremoniously, hugging one of the pillows as she adjusted herself to look at him as he took a sit opposite from her. “I talked to Alfie…”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” William sighed, ignoring her.

“Don’t think I ever saw him like that.” Daphne took a deep breath, averting his gaze and looking to the window, it was almost dusk. “He said a lot of things that don’t make sense but I gathered that the fight has something to do with Mr. Shelby.” She stuck her head on the pillow, hiding her face from him, the sound of her voice muffled by the barrier.

“I don’t want to talk about it, not with you.” The man took a deep breath, moving closer to her, his fingers removing the hair covering her face as she looked at him.

“But is me who you’re going to talk to. Come on.” He beckoned her to sit as he took off his shoes and adjusted himself by her side, against the headboard. They stayed in silence for what seemed like a lifetime until he spoke again. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean that you can’t talk to me about your feelings.”

“Will…”

“No, I mean it. I accepted that a long time ago when I decided that I wanted to stay in your life.” Daphne looked at him just to find him already staring back at her. “We are friends. I want to be here for you as you will be here for me when I have my heart broken someday.” Again, she thought, with a hint of guilty.

“My heart hadn’t been broken.”

“I wasn’t talking about Thomas, but we will get there.” She looked forward, in the direction of the fireplace, deep in thought. “I know you for what, eight years? You’re not a very open person, Daph, you always hide yourself from others. Both of you do that, because God knows that Alfie doesn’t let a lot of people in. But somehow you two found each other and understood each other and none of us really figured out how you two worked, but you did. What happened?” Daphne took her time thinking about the question before answering.

“Since France I have been surviving. Just surviving, not living, since it was the only thing I knew. Because I didn’t know how to live, I didn’t know how to…” He saw her fighting the tears, a very rare occurrence to her, and took her hand in his. “ Because I didn’t know how to live without Benjamin. I still don’t. So I relayed on Alfie, I relayed on Alfie because he was the last thing thing that connected me to my brother, because he understood what felt like losing him. It was comfortable, it was safe, so I overlooked things I never thought I would, I learned the ways of the business, I settled down and in the middle of all of this I lost who I am.”

“And who are you, Daphne Scott?”

“That’s the problem - I don’t know. I have been many things, but I don’t know who I am anymore.” She continued talking without looking at him. “Before the war I was Miss Scott, a proper lady. Raised to always be polite, smile, say praises at gala dinners, be a good girl and find herself a rich husband that only wanted her for the money, bear him children and live a miserable, loveless life as the good wife I was trained to be. At least, that was the persona that everybody knew, because she coexisted with Daphne, and Daphne wanted very different things. Most important of all, she wanted to be free. She was a romantic who believed she could change the world, that she could find love and be happy away from everything she was raised into. Senior Sister Scott wanted to help people but she also learned that the world would always take something from her, always, because no good deed goes unpunished. But I am neither of them now.”

“Then discover who you are. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to him.” He moved on the bed to face her, taking both her hands in his. “All these years you have been hiding yourself behind this character you created because deep down you think you don’t deserve to live, you think that you should have died in his place.” The tears start to fall from her eyes and Daphne tries to take her hands off off his, to looks away from him and hide herself in her shell again but Willian doesn’t let her. “But there are things in this life that we will never understand and although I haven’t met Benjamin I know that he would want you to be happy.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771

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princesstreaclefanfic · 4 years

Text

We Meet Again Chapter Six

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Splash of Colour

Luke watched as Penelope looked around the plane. He could see she wasn't a fan of the neutral colours. She expressed this and JJ got straight in her good books.

"What, you mean I'm the splash of colour… stop it." She made hand motions for JJ to continue. Luke smiled and chuckled. It was a good metaphor for his life with her in it. Before she came along, his life was boring and neutral and plain. And then she came in with her bright clothes and bold jewellery and amazing personality and he was swept away. She added colour to his otherwise quiet life. And he couldn't complain about that.

***

Penelope stood on the side of the road and watched as JJ spoke with the police officers at the scene. She couldn't understand why someone would do this, purposefully injure innocents? And in such a volatile way. Penelope was only too familiar with the damage that a car could do to a person's body and she hated the thought that these people were suffering.

Seeing her standing there, Luke wandered over and offered his hand to her.

She wasn't going to take it, honestly. Then the corners of her mouth quirked up and those dimples got her again.

She placed her smaller hand in his and tried to ignore the heat coming from his body.

Delicately, she stepped onto the road, aware that she probably should have worn heels that weren't as high. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression so once she was stable she shook his hand off, grimacing at him. Luke took it all in good humour though. He jokingly wiped his hands on his jeans as if he had touched something on her that he didn't want to. It was kind of funny seeing as only a few weeks ago he'd had his mouth on her pussy.

She kept her grimace on her face until she turned away but she couldn't hide the smile that spread across it when he wasn't looking.

***

Luke and Penelope were in the precinct, trying to work out what the unsub's next step was.

"There has to be some kind of connection between the unsub and Veronica Perotta. I mean, he targeted her outside her own home." Luke stepped closed to Penelope. "He had to have some knowledge of her daily routines. This-this was personal." This was the worst attack he had perpetrated. To have a woman run over in front of her own home whilst she unloaded her grocery shopping - it was diabolical. They needed to catch this guy before he hurt anyone else.

"I'm looking through Veronica's social media now," Penelope told him. Her fingers whizzed over the keys. "She was single, she had recently joined something called Amorous Intrigue."

"The dating website." The only reason Luke knew about it was because his friend had tried to set him a profile up. He wasn't interested though. He hadn't been interested in dating since he had spent the night with Penelope.

"Oh, is that what is it? Maybe I should join it, not that I'd want to join anything you know about… or I need a dating website… cause I don't." He was positive she didn't need a dating website.

As they delved into the website they learnt that Veronica had been pinged several times by a man called Jonathan Rhodes. He had contacted quite a few women and all of them had rejected him. That would have made things much worse.

"Here's somebody - Alyssa Miles." Penelope pulled up a picture. "Totally his type." Brown hair, brown eyes and slim build. She fit the victim profile. He could hear Penelope's breath speed up and she began to talk faster.

Luke knew. He just knew in his gut. "That's his next target. Can you pull up an address?" Silly question, he knew she could.

"Yep. Just sent it to your phone."

"Alright, grab your laptop hotshot, let's go." He turned away from her and headed out of the room. He needed to get his bulletproof vest and find Penelope one too.

"I don't go with… I do go with!" she shouted. "I'm precious cargo!" Even though he could hear the fear and hesitation in her voice, she still did as he asked.

Her words echoed through his head - she was definitely precious cargo to him.

***

Outside Alyssa Miles house, Penelope had to swallow her fear as she set her laptop up on the white car and began to furiously type.

Luke wasn't helping matters. "Stop staring at me when I'm searching engining, it's weird." The truth was his stare made her nervous and she needed all her nerves intact if she were to stop this maniac. Feeling his eyes on her made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat.

"Sorry," he apologised as she typed faster and faster.

"She managed to keep ahold of her phone - can you do something with that?"

Penelope turned to him and felt a sliver of relief and hope. Yes, she most certainly could.

"That's helpful, you're helpful sometimes." Luke might have just saved Alyssa Miles' life.

***

Luke was driving not as if his life depended on it but life someone else's life did - because it was true. He had to get to Alyssa Miles and he had to get to her now.

"I've got eyes on him up there, you see?" Luke told her, watching as the car swerved in and out of traffic. Damn those driving games - that is where he got his skills from. He was fearless and that was a terrifying thought.

"Do you have to be so lurchy? I get carsick," she told him. Once again, there was fear in her voice.

Luke reached across the small space and gently placed his hand on her arm.

As they followed the car, Penelope began to panic.

"He's just very good."

"He's not as good as you, okay?" For some reason, she couldn't see it, she couldn't see how amazing she was. Luke watched her day in and day out, the things she had to face and the places she had to go on the internet to find what they needed. As far as he was concerned (and yes, he may be slightly biased), she was the best of the best.

She shrieked about dying and Luke had to roll his eyes at her dramatics. He could handle a car.

"Nobody is going to die today!"

Penelope continued to type and he could feel the movement of her arm under his hand. Then she stopped.

"I'm in!" she shouted. Luke felt a small portion of relief flow through his body. This was half the battle won.

He watched as the car rolled to a stop in front of them, about two feet away from the wall. He jumped out of the SUV immediately, drew his gun and stalked towards the car.

"FBI! Show me your hands!" The guy didn't know what to do. He hauled him out of the car.

As he patted him down and cuffed him, he saw that Penelope had gotten out too. She had gone around to the driver's side and pulled the tape from her hands that the unsub had used to keep her at the wheel. Penelope wrapped her arms around the traumatised girl and comforted her.

Over her head, they shared a look. The case was done. It was solved.

***

Penelope's heart dropped out of her stomach as she and Luke shared a look before she rose to her feet immediately. As Reid was led from the courtroom she placed her hands on the partition separating them, trying to get as close as she could to him. She wanted to shout that it would all be alright, that'd they fix this mess, that'd the judge had got it wrong. But there were no words. None of them seemed strong enough or good enough.

Her heart broke as he disappeared through a door. A tear fell down her face and behind her, she heard Luke stand and then felt him place a hand on her shoulder.

Her breathing was ragged; this could not be happening.

As she felt herself falling apart, Luke's other hand came up and squeezed her arm. He was strong and brave and right now, his hands on her were quite literally keeping her together. If he took his hands from her she was sure she would fall apart.

Penelope didn't remember much after that but as she sat in the offices at the FBI as everyone went home, she couldn't move.

"Penelope?" Luke called, coming to stand in front of her. "Are you alright?"

She could lie and say yes but she wore her heart on her sleeve. "No." She shook her head.

Luke knelt at her feet and took her hands in his. "Listen to me. We are going to catch Scratch and this is all going to disappear. Reid is innocent - we all know that."

Tears formed in her eyes and her throat got tight.

"I can't promise that it's going to be easy because it's not but we are going to do everything in our power to help Reid."

She nodded because she knew that but right now it didn't feel like enough.

"Shall I walk you to your car?"

She shook her head again. "No. I don't want to go home. I don't want to be alone."

"You don't have to be alone, chica." Luke stood and brought her with him. "You drive to your apartment and I'll follow. We can have some tea and talk."

Penelope took her hands from his and swiped at her eyes. "What about Roxy?"

"She'll be fine for a few hours." She had food, water, plenty of toys and a doggy door so she could come and go as she pleased.

"Okay."

Together, they left the offices and went to the respective cars in the parking lot. Luke followed Penelope back to her apartment and when they got inside she made them some herbal tea.

They sat on the couch together, Simon rubbing himself all over Penelope before going to Luke and investigating his trousers.

"I've known Reid for years… he'd never do something like this." Luke listened because that's all he could do. "He loves his mom and that's the only thing he's guilty of. How could anyone think he'd murder someone?" She held back tears of frustration. "He works for the FBI, he'd know how to cover his tracks if he wanted." She sighed. "He is one of the sweetest men I have ever met and he's being treated like some kind of criminal."

"It's a process - they have to treat him like any other suspect."

"But this is Reid - he isn't just anybody! He's boy genius, he's the man who had looked after his mother from a young age, he's the man who can tell you the most boring facts about shrimp, he's the man who has such a big brain inside his head but also a big heart to match!"

"Penelope - I know." Those words. Luke said them so softly and he was right. He did know. He'd only know Reid for a short time but he knew all these things were true. There wasn't anybody else like Spencer Reid on the planet.

Her eyes felt gritty and tired so she took her glasses off and rubbed them roughly before putting them back on. She let her head rest against the back of the sofa she was facing Luke and he did the same.

Her eyes traced over his face and with a slight amount of hesitation, Penelope leaned forward and placed her lips on his.

When she pulled away, Luke was looking at her. He brought one hand up to her face and stroked her cheek. Then, he leaned in and kissed her again.

The passion that overcame Penelope at that moment was instant. She pushed Luke back against the couch quite aggressively and kissed his neck, sucking on the tan skin.

"Penelope… stop." Luke's voice shocked her and she sat back.

"You don't want me," her words were quiet and there was hurt in her voice.

Luke gave a humourless chuckle. "I want you all the time, chica." As if to prove his point, Luke brought her palm to his jeans where there was an obvious bulge.

Before she could do anything he pulled her hand away and helped her to stand.

"I want you but not like this - not on the tail end of all this sadness." His hands cradled her face. "So I'm going to put you to bed and then I'm going to go back to my house and I'll see you at work in the morning."

Penelope was silent as Luke took her hand and led her through her small apartment to her bedroom. He stopped her when she stood next to her and slowly turned her around.

With a smile on his face, he began to undress her. It wasn't sensual, it wasn't erotic… it was caring and tender.

He slowly pulled her cardigan from her shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the chair in the corner of the room. Then he was back at her side, spinning her gently around to access the zipper at the back of her dress. He pulled it down until the dress fell from her body. He helped her step out of it and then brought his hands to her shoulders. He slid the straps of her bra down her arms and moved his hands around her back to unclasp the bra. Luke did it with such ease but he never took his eyes from hers.

Penelope pulled the bra away from her chest and let it fall to the floor.

"Pyjamas?" Luke asked quietly.

"Behind you, top left-hand drawer." Her voice was just as quiet.

Luke gave her a small smile and turned. He opened the drawer and pulled out the first nightie he found. It was purple with cats dotted all over it. It was so her.

He returned to her and slipped the soft cotton material over her head, brushing her hair out from the neckline when it fell down her body.

"Turn," he requested quietly.

Penelope did and Luke unclasped the black necklace from around her neck, gently laying it on the vanity next to them. Then he began to take the pins out of her hair. He did it slowly, combing his fingers through her golden tresses as he went, making sure that it didn't tangle.

When he was done with that he placed a hand on her shoulder and spun her once more. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulder and pushed her towards the bed. When she sat down on it, he crouched down and took her heels from her feet.

Taking a minute, he rubbed the soft skin of her feet, pressing his thumbs into her arches until she gave a small groan of satisfaction.

He stood up and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

She slid back on the bed and tucked herself under the covers.

Luke pulled them up to her chin and stroked her cheek.

"Sweet dreams, chica."

Penelope watched as he turned his back and left, shutting the lights off as he went. She heard him whisper goodnight to Simon and then leave. She strained her eyes to hear his footsteps on the stairs and then his car engine start up.

By the time he pulled out of the parking lot, she was fast asleep. Her mind free from the sadness of the day.

#criminal minds #garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #fluff #canon couples #friendship #romance #smut #lemons

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justkending · 5 years

Text

Show me what’s behind your back. (Drabble Challenge)

Drabble#84: “Show me what’s behind your back.”

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 1100+

This was asked by an anon, and I wasn’t given a character so I went ahead and chose one. We haven’t got too many Steve drabbles so I used this one:) Plus, I thought this quote would work well with it! Enjoy and let me know what you think!!!

A/N: (The characters written about, are not my own. Copyright goes to Marvel Studios and Comics.)

*Art not mine. Found on google and lead me to etsy!”

You had holed yourself up in your shared room with your boyfriend working really hard on his birthday present. He was out on a mission and you had what you thought was about 5-6 hours before he came home.

Knowing you wouldn’t have time to work on it after he arrived, you were trying to get the details just right to make it perfect now.

You stood up moving to the window to get better lighting. You looked out into the compounds landscape and closed your eyes taking in the sunlight beaming down on your face. You placed your pencil on your lips and hugged the sketch pad you were using to your chest. Trying your best to breath in inspiration to make this the best gift your boyfriend could have.

“Hey Doll.”

You turned quickly at the sound of the familiar voice, and saw the blue eyed blonde haired man fresh out of his stealth suit, and in a pair of jeans and a tight black long sleeve shirt. He was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Without a second thought about being suspicious, you threw the notebook behind your back and stared ahead with a wide grin plastered on your face.

“Steve, you’re home early!” you said a little louder than you meant.

He quirked an eyebrow at you and moved his hands down to his side before he slowly started to walk over to you by the window.

“Yeah, the mission was finished quicker than expected. I tried texting you but I guess it didn’t go through,” he said tipping his head to the side looking at you. “What’s behind your back?”

“Hmm? What?” you said playing dumb and backing up more toward the window.

“Y//N/N, sweetheart? What’re you hiding?” he said with a smirk.

“Who says I’m hiding anything?” you shrugged scoffing at his accusation.

“That little mischievous grin on your face and the fact you won’t make eye contact with me says,” he pointed out getting only a few feet away now. “What’cha hiding?” he laughed.

“Nothing. I’m just writing- in a- journal…” you stuttered out.

“That’s not a journal Y/N. I know a sketch pad when I see one,” he said, now inches from you and looking down. “Show me what’s behind your back,” he practically commanded.

“I’m good. Thanks for asking,” you smiled going to move out of his space, but just as you did. Two hands wrapped around your waist pulling you right back into his flush. “Steven!”

“Show me please!” he whined pulling you in and going to pepper kisses on your neck knowing that was your tickle spot.

“Steve stop!” you giggled folding into his form. “Please, I can’t!”

“Not until you show me what you’re doing!” he said picking you up from the ground and throwing you both onto the bed.

“Steve!” you giggled more as the slight scruff from his beard coming in started to tickle all over your face and neck.

This went on for a little. You would try to escape his hold on you, but then he would pull you right back in and would go back to tickling. You had managed to keep the paper out of his reach, but you were close to giving up.

Then out of nowhere he was on top of you straddling your hips.

“I'm going to take it,” he threatened looking at the pad that you were now holding above your head straining to keep it away.

“Steve don’t! It’s not done!” you said as he reached for it pinning you in your spot with his hips.

He grasped it and wiggled it out of your grip and effectively kept it out of your reach as you tried so hard to get it back.

Once you saw him start to examine it and his face went from goofing around to a state of concentration, you realized it was too late now. No hiding what you were trying so hard to now.

“It’s not done, and I know it’s amateur. I thought I would have time to get it where I wanted, but you came home earlier than I thought you would, so-”

“It’s stunning,” he interrupted you.

“What?” you said confused looking up at him still sitting on top of you.

He moved the pad out of the way so that you could fully see his face, and you could see the look of admiration and appreciation covering his features.

“This is amazing. How-How did you-? I didn’t think you knew how to draw-”

“I took a class. A few classes actually,” you laughed looking up at him.

“For this?”

“Yeah,” you said plain and simple. “I wanted to get you a good birthday present, and I know how much you hate material things, like me, so I wanted to draw something for you. Or at least I tried,” you laughed a little nervous at his reaction.

He continued to look down on you, studying you now. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking so after a few seconds you tilted your head to him.

You had sketched a drawing of half his face on the note pad. You had taken an old picture that you found of him when he first started with The Avengers, and decided that a half profile of his was something you actually might be able to do. The only thing you had got around to coloring though was his eyes. The crystal blues shining brightly on the white background. You still had details you wanted to add.

“So did I bomb it or-?” before you could finish the sentence, he leaned down quick and pressed his lips to yours. A heated and passionate kiss that could have easily formed into more, took over your senses.

Minutes of an intense make out session and the sketch pad being put to the side you both finally pulled back for a breath.

“You nailed it,” he smiled at you, pushing back some wayward hair from your face.

“Really?” you said unsure of yourself.

“Head on,” he answered nuzzling his nose with yours. “How did I get so lucky?” he said looking you up and down.

“I ask myself the same question everyday,” you grinned up at him before pulling him back down to another sweet kiss.

This went on for a while, and like stated earlier, it lead to more intense things…

“I’m framing it,” he said pulling you into his form under the sheets.

“You don’t have to do that to make me feel better. I’m sure if I practice more, I can make it better.”

“I want the original though. Those are the best kind.”

You laughed, turning to face him and started tracing his features with your finger tips.

“Ok, Cap. Only if you let me frame one of yours,” you bargained.

He had drawn so many portraits of you that he refused to let you frame or show to anyone. He wanted them for you and you alone, but now... Hopefully he would let you admire one of his beauties in a place you could see it all the time.

He rolled his eyes dramatically before looking at you with a smile.

“I guess I’ll allow it,” he huffed, and then went to pepper you with kisses again.

“Good cause I was going to do it anyway,” you giggled.

My lovelies forever:

@shamelesslydean @sleepless-sin @sandlee44 @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @spnwoman @ravengirl94 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ezilyamuzed @thosekidswhohuntmonsters @anise-d-castle6 @tailsoflightning @spookycowz @snffbeebee @angelessquirrel @deans-baby-momma@natura1phenomenon @tftumblin @gh0stgurl @screechingartisancashbailiff @herscrunchiehairtie@dreaminemz @monkeymcpoopoo @a-girl-who-loves-disney @andthatsmyworld @greenarrowhead@savio-the-depressed-moose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @greyeyedsmile14@adoptdontshop-blog @casper57 @traceyaudette @rainflowermoonlibrary @luciathewinchestergirl@almostelegantfire @thefaithfulwriter @the-is13 @kaz11283 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @squirrelgirl67@jackles-15 @lauravic @deansgirls-1968 @a–1–1–3 @spnbaby-67 @deannotmoose @naomi02hook@were-not-the-losechesters @lilulo-12

Tags are open: SHOOT AN ASK!

If you have a cross through your name, it will not allow me to tag you. Message me and we can figure it out!

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel drabble #marvel one shot #MCU #MCU fanfiction #mcu drabble #mcu oneshot #justkending #drabble challenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers one shot

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homeformyheart · 3 years

Text

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower (rod au)

author’s note: this is a ride or die princess/fantasy AU with inspiration from a bunch of different places, including a tarot card theme per chapter. some dialogue and scenes will reflect or tie back to the original story by pixelberry.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: ride or die – colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler); minor logan x mc series rating/warnings: 16+ chapter rating/warnings: 13+ word count: 4.2k story summary: eleanor wheeler is a princess and dreading her 18th birthday when she’s expected to select her future husband from her stifling peer group of eligible nobles. however, a not-so-chance encounter with a mysterious stranger she can’t quite place and a reckoning unlike any other finds her on a crazy self-discovery journey and quest to reclaim her throne.

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower

a tall, severe looking woman loomed over ellie’s head from behind, casting a shadow on the random flowers and landscapes she had been doodling in the notebook in front of her for the last two hours. she was supposed to be taking notes on all the suitable princes that would be arriving late afternoon to attend her eighteenth birthday ball, which happened to be one of her least favorite annual traditions. even though she would prefer a day out in the town or a quiet day in with those closest to her, as the guest of honor it was her duty to play host to all royals and nobles from the neighboring kingdoms while dodging inappropriate commentary about her beauty and womanly figure from men who were her father’s age and their wives who not-so-subtly insisted on trying to set her up with their sons.

this year, though, the ball was going to take on a slightly different, or rather expanded, purpose. it was also going to serve as her official societal debut as an adult, which meant it was going to be exponentially harder to avoid all the matchmaking conversations. now that she was turning eighteen, she was expected to pick a suitor by the end of the social season. and unfortunately for her, the end was coming up in a fortnight. as much as she hated how long the social season felt, now she wished she could delay it a little longer.

ellie flinched at the sound of her etiquette tutor’s stern voice and pointer slamming down on her parchment, bringing her attention back to the lesson.

“i don’t think drawing horses and flowers has any value in helping you select a proper suitor, your highness. today of all days, you must pay attention.”

ellie straightened up in her seat and feigned the sincerity in her voice as she replied, “i’m so sorry, mrs. clarke. i was paying attention – i know the best economically advantageous ally for us would be with the vandermeer family since we share a border.”

mrs. clark clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “we’ll review again, from the top.”

ellie inwardly groaned as she counted the minutes until her lecture was over. she wasn’t sure why she needed a refresher on the histories and lineage of each of the noble families that would be in attendance, but her father had insisted it was critical to making the right impression on her future in-laws, a term she already resented. she was only turning eighteen and had never been out of the country on her own before. how could she be expected to get married?

as soon as she was dismissed, she ran, or rather, walked as briskly as a princess should, to her chambers, where her best friend and lady-in-waiting, riya was waiting for her with her riding outfit prepared and tarot deck in hand.

“you are the best, riya! after three hours hearing about the same old stories about how noble families are constantly fighting for wealth or defending their titles, i could really use a ride,” ellie grimaced, letting out a loud sigh as riya helped her out of her dress, loosening the tight laces on the corset and helping her get changed.

“mmhm, and spend some time with looogan,” riya teased. ellie gave riya a pointed look as she pulled on her boots.

riya just looked at ellie with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen the way you look at him, and more importantly, the way he looks at you.”

ellie blushed. “i know, he’s sweet and he was my first kiss and everything, but at the end of the day, he’s my bodyguard and i have to marry a noble.”

riya wrapped ellie up in a big hug. “i know that sucks but i’m here for you, okay?”

“only when darius isn’t around, right?” ellie giggled at the blush that appeared on riya’s cheeks, earning her a light smack on the arm. “but really, thanks, riya.”

riya handed ellie the tarot deck – it was one of the few remaining possessions of her mother’s and it always made ellie feel a little closer to her mom whenever she communed with the cards – as though it was her mother’s spirit guiding her. ellie unfolded the handsewn and embroidered altar cloth and spread out the cards before her. she could really use some of that guidance today. ellie took a deep breath and concentrated on her intention for the day, although it was something she’d been ruminating over several weeks, which was: what is next for me?

ellie hovered her hand over the cards and moved from left to right with deliberation. she couldn’t describe exactly how the cards called her but it was a feeling, and when she felt the familiar invisible tug, she opened her eyes and flipped over the card.

the tower upright. one of the most dreaded cards in the deck and one that ellie had experienced only once before, when her mother died five years ago. ellie stared at the card until she felt riya’s reassuring hand on her shoulder. “it’s okay,” riya said softly, gently grabbing the card from ellie’s hand and nudging her to stand.

“i know. i can’t dwell on this now. thanks riya,” ellie sighed and made her way over to the door. “i’ll be back in an hour.”

* * * * * the sky was absolutely clear outside with the sun shining brightly overhead. ellie closed her eyes outside the stables and tilted her head upward so she could relish the warmth. feeling the gentle breeze tickle her hair and the sun warm her face immediately lightened her mood.

“hey there, troublemaker.”

ellie opened her eyes to find herself staring into the warm, brown eyes of her one-time adolescent crush. logan was leaning casually against the doorframe, his tousled hair framing his tanned face. ellie let her eyes wander around his face, taking in his firm jaw and high cheekbones and the way the corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, before responding.

“as i recall, you were always the one in trouble,” she smirked, walking around him and into the stables.

logan followed behind ellie, stopping to take the reins of midnight, her strong, black stallion and the more tempered chestnut mare he often rode to keep her company so he could lead the horses outside. “by the way, i’m pretty sure you’re the reason i got into trouble, since you seemed to make it your personal mission to ditch your security detail.”

ellie stuck her tongue out at him before climbing into the saddle swiftly. nothing quite compared to the feeling of freedom and control that she felt while riding. it didn’t take long before she was urging midnight to a gallop across the fields toward the woods at the edge of the palace property. she knew without looking that logan was right behind her, albeit a few paces behind given the chestnut mare he was riding was a little older. he was always cognizant of her reputation and kept up the appearances of distance between the two of them. the chestnut mare, which was the typical choice for noble ladies, was one such example of logan’s thoughtfulness toward her reputation. anyone paying attention to the stables would assume he had taken midnight while she rode the mare.

she finally slowed enough for logan to catch up as they approached the woods and she gently guided midnight toward a small path that they both knew by heart. it was a fairly narrow dirt path that seemed to go nowhere but she had discovered as a child that by turning right at a particular gap in the trees, the path opened up to a small clearing and pond in the center. ellie dismounted and made her way over to the pond, taking off her boots so she could dip her feet in the water. logan mirrored her and the two of them sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling with the breeze.

“i can’t believe somehow i’m supposed to decide who i want to marry today,” ellie said with a loud sigh. “i thought i would feel differently about being eighteen, but it’s just another day like all the others, isn’t it? i’m supposed to just keep my head down and do what’s asked of me.” she looked over at logan and felt a longing rise in her chest. the sun trickling through the leaves of the trees above them created dancing shadows on his serene face.

logan finally looked over at her and ellie suddenly felt as though the clearing was too warm and the water encircling her feet was not cold enough and all she wanted to do was reach over and pull logan into a kiss so she could breathe easy again. she didn’t know that much about him since he kept to himself so maybe her feelings were mostly physical in nature, but there was just something about him, especially when he looked at her as tenderly as he was doing now, that made her wish deep-down that she was born of a life where she had the option to choose him.

“no matter what, birthdays are for celebrating with those you love. and there’s a team of people working really hard to make sure that you get to celebrate the right way,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile that seemed to glow with warmth from the sun.

ellie pulled her feet out of the water and began drying off. “are you part of this ‘team of people’?” she asked, letting herself feel excited and repress the dread and longing she felt moments before.

logan smirked at her as she lifted herself onto her horse, following suit on his own. “that’s a secret. now, we better get back quickly before i get sentenced to death for kidnapping the princess.”

* * * * * the rest of the afternoon sped by as ellie was meticulously prepped as though she were both a rag doll and porcelain figurine. she was bathed, combed, and groomed until her skin felt raw and her scalp tingled unpleasantly before being pinched, waxed, and made up with delicate eye makeup and a deure shade of lipstick. finally, ellie put on her custom pale pink a-line gown with a flowing tulle skirt and lace sleeves. the high neckline kept the dress modest, but the cinched waist showed off her svelte figure. gold lace and intricate embroidery detail covered the dress, balancing the sheer softness of the pink against the bold color that would certainly shimmer under the ballroom chandeliers. riya carefully placed a gold braided headband on ellie’s head before securely tying the white mask decorated with pink and gold feathers over ellie’s eyes.

ellie had suggested the masquerade theme by convincing her father that getting to know the suitors while in disguise would help her make a more objective choice since hopefully they wouldn’t realize who she really was until the end of the evening. secretly, ellie also wanted to see if anyone would be interested in her if they didn’t know she was the princess. once riya gave her the thumbs up, ellie took a deep breath and stepped outside her room.

logan straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall opposite the door to ellie’s room. as her personal bodyguard, he was allowed to stay close to her, but he knew he was often pushing the definition of “close.” his eyes widened as he took in ellie’s appearance – she looked both absolutely angelic and mysterious, and he simultaneously forgot and became painfully aware that he was well below her station.

ellie beamed at him and gave a small twirl to show off the full dress. “what do you think?”

“you look absolutely breathtaking, your highness. now let’s go make your secret entrance,” logan said, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and holding out his arm.

as ellie slid her petite arm through his, logan heard a soft voice whisper, it’s okay to love her. he looked around quickly with his peripheral vision but knew deep-down that the voice came from inside him. whether or not he had any real feelings for ellie didn’t matter, he had a job to do and couldn’t afford any distractions, no matter how beautiful and funny and kind they may be. as he led her down the back stairwell toward a side door he couldn’t help but glance down, trying to memorize the feel of her arm in his and the glow of the lights illuminating her cheeks. as they walked out the door, he took a deep breath and buried that voice as far down as he could, covering it with a metaphorical lid. she wasn’t meant to be his.

ellie extricated her arm from logan’s and gave him a nod. he stepped back and disappeared around the corner, presumably to find a shadow in the ballroom he would use to keep watch. ellie watched as noble after noble, dressed in their most ornate masks and formal wear made their way up the steps and through the palace doors. she clenched her fists at her side to steel herself before lifting her chin with pride and taking a step forward. she could do this.

she stepped inside and was quickly escorted by a servant toward the intimidating ballroom doors. out of the corner of her eye, she saw logan give her a reassuring smile from his “hiding place,” and smiled to herself before squaring her shoulders and walking purposefully into the ballroom, hoping she looked like the epitome of a noble lady. the room was already bustling with conversation and people milling about with drinks, and she flagged down the nearest servant as discreetly as she could so she could grab a flute of the sparkling champagne.

she took a careful sip and crinkled her nose at the carbonated bubbles tickling her nose but then quickly drank half the class once she realized she liked the crisp, dry flavor that hinted of apple. she felt the liquid settle in her stomach and a warm feeling bloom outward until she felt it on her cheeks. she had alcohol before of course, but forgot to take it slow.

ellie didn’t notice a tall nobleman walking toward her from the left and it was too late to pivot once she did. she took a couple steps to the left while looking to her right for a servant to leave her empty glass with when she walked right into a dark-haired man wearing a soft, velvet frock set in black and trimmed in silver lace and black silk gloves. her hand immediately went from where it was holding the skirt of her dress to his abdomen and she looked up to meet the most intense gaze she’d ever encountered. She could feel his gaze piercing through his matching black velvet mask.

“oh, i’m so sorry sir,” she quickly stammered, trying to take an off-balance step back to create space between them.

his arm shot out quickly under hers and held her steady at the waist. ellie felt her cheeks warm at his touch; it was strange, but she felt like his touch was just as intense as his gaze.

“looks like you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear, grabbing the empty champagne flute out of her right hand and placing it on the tray of a servant walking past them.

ellie felt her temper flare and deliberately took a step back and smoothed out her skirts to keep from telling him off. “who wants to know?” ellie said, through a clenched smile and glare that she hoped conveyed that she thought he had some nerve talking to her like that.

“just wondering who you’re trying to impress, looking like that,” he replied, the corner of his lip tilting up into a very attractive smirk. “that dress seems a bit overkill if you’re tripping over your feet. not very graceful for a lady, are we?”

“i’m meeting someone so i’m afraid i’m going to have to excuse myself,” ellie forced out through a smile that was already hurting her cheeks. she was tempted to dig her heels into his toes and could imagine the satisfaction she’d feel at hearing him cry out in pain, but instead curtsied and turned to walk away.

she took one step forward when she felt a gloved hand grab onto her pinky finger. she whirled around slowly to maintain an air of grace but glared at the masked man who had let go of her finger and now had his hand outstretched toward her.

“dance with me,” he said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice ellie couldn’t quite place. she looked up into his eyes and realized that she didn’t think she had it in her to say no.

as soon as she nodded, he led her to the dance floor where a few other pairs were already dancing along with the live quartet. his arm slid confidently around her waist and ellie placed hers on his shoulder with practiced ease. she was surprised at the way he led her around the floor so gracefully, it felt like she was barely touching the floor.

“i’m surprised at how light you are on your feet. i don’t think i’ve seen you around,” ellie said carefully, tilting her head up to look at him as he twirled her around.

he smirked. “that’s because i haven’t been around.”

now ellie was really curious. “you mean, this social season? i’ve had to dance with a couple dozen nobles all summer but none of them dance quite like you.”

the smirk on his face faded into a thin, pressed line. “no, i haven’t been around for a few years. my father and i didn’t see eye-to-eye and he didn’t want me around.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—” he quickly spun her out and back in before she could finish her apology.

when he pulled her back in, he lowered his head by her ear and murmured, “i don’t want your pity, sweetheart. see you around.”

he bowed and she curtsied reflexively before he quickly turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. ellie didn’t have time to react before a different nobleman asked her to dance, followed by another, and she found herself going from partner to partner, song to song, making conversation about anything and nothing, leaving her without a chance to catch her breath and make sense of her spinning thoughts.

ellie excused herself from her last partner, grabbing and subsequently draining another glass of champagne from a servant walking by before weaving in and around couples on the dancefloor until she reached the pillar closest to the quartet. she ducked behind the pillar and folded the skirt of her dress behind her so it wouldn’t flare out and took a few slow, deep breaths to calm herself down.

every single person that she danced with clearly had one agenda for tonight. while she was grateful none of them managed to guess who she really was, at least out loud, it was getting tiresome hearing about who they thought had the best chance of marrying her or wondering where she was or wondering if she might be interested in them. only one person didn’t seem to care about that, and she had no idea who he was or where he was from.

maybe she was feeling on edge at the moment with all the adrenaline from the evening pumping through her but she swore she could feel someone approaching her hiding spot. not like the normal self-defense or slightly paranoid feeling of someone coming up behind you, but a real, grounded gut feeling that someone was about to come up to her. ellie quickly pivoted to her right and raised her fists so she wouldn’t be caught off guard but was surprised anyway to see logan.

“whoa, there troublemaker. it’s just me. come on, it’s time for your announcement,” logan said quietly. despite the smirk on his face, ellie couldn’t find the usual playfulness in his eyes.

he led her toward the front where her father was waiting, his arm outstretched toward her. she felt logan leave her side and retreat back to a discreet location a split second before he actually did it, but didn’t get a chance to process that before her father looped her hand through his arm and led her toward the front of the room.

“ready, ellie? your life won’t be the same after this,” her father smiled as he looked down at her the way he had done for as long as she could remember, at least since her mother died. like she was a precious, fragile little flower that needed to be protected from the elements of nature.

before she had a chance to answer, a chorus of silverware clinking against champagne glasses quickly quieted the oblivious conversations still happening and ellie had to physically fight her own body from recoil from all the eyes that were now staring at her. she tried to distract herself from the gnawing in her stomach by scanning the room for any expressions of those she danced with who didn’t realize who she was at the time. it was entertaining to say the least, seeing people suddenly look embarrassed and shocked.

her father cleared his throat and ellie knew that was her cue to smile like the picture-perfect princess if she wasn’t already. she kept scanning the room, and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the mysterious man she bumped into was nowhere to be found. she sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to her father’s speech since she would have to give hers once he was done.

“i just have one last thing to say to my beloved daughter, eleanor. i am so proud of the young woman you’ve become and i know you’ll do great things. everyone please, raise a glass to celebrate my wonderful daughter’s birthday—” he had raised his glass of champagne but was cut off by a rumbling sound overhead that was quickly followed by a CRACK! and the crunch of concrete crumbling together.

ellie looked up and saw a deep fissure was defacing the beautiful greek-castle architecture design of the ceiling and the crack was expanding as it approached the front of the room, where she currently stood next to her father, frozen in shock. she barely registered logan appearing behind her.

“go! keep her safe,” her father implored, turning only after logan gave him a firm nod.

“no, wait, dad!” ellie watched with horror as her dad disappeared behind the fallen rubble until he was out of sight. logan started half-dragging, half-carrying her until she came to her senses and started running as fast as she could in heels and a long dress, letting him guide her by the hand around screaming people and falling concrete.

they stepped out through a hidden exit that was mostly used by servants to make it easier for them to get to the ballroom from the kitchen. logan expertly led her through the hidden corridor and ellie vaguely registered how abandoned the kitchen looked, with trays of desserts and champagne ready to go; the irony of how wasteful this luxury could be was not lost on her. despite how her toes pinched, she kept her mouth shut and did her best to keep up with logan, who made a beeline for the back door and around the castle until they reached the stables.

midnight and a horse ellie didn’t recognize were already saddled with what looked like fully packed saddle bags.

“why does midnight look like she’s been prepared for an escape and whose horse is that?” ellie was dumbfounded and there was no one else in the stables.

logan pulled her toward midnight and lifted her up so she was forced to grab on to the reins and climb into the saddle as he quickly turned to do the same on his horse. “i’ll explain later, we need to get as far away from here as possible. follow my lead and don’t stop for anyone!”

ellie matched logan’s pace as they left the castle grounds and even though they were galloping full speed under the light of the moon, ellie couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. part of the roof had collapsed, leaving the stone turret closest to her vantage point standing alone among the rubble, its gray stone coat illuminated by the moon.

in that moment, she knew she might never see her home or her father again. the picture of the turret standing tall like a tower was seared in her mind and a sense of dread unlike anything she had felt before settled in her chest. she knew this sudden upheaval of her life, the destruction of her home, and the loss of her innocence was only the beginning of what the cards were trying to tell her.

* * * * * mentions: @kat-tia801; @lovehugsandcandy; permatag: @withbeautyandrage; @agentnolastname; @freckles-spangledvampire

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