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dumbchickwrites · 4 years

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office affairs -- part 4

Pairings: CEO!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sam is the CEO of the Red Wing PR agency where Reader has been working for the past two years. Problem is, they both think one hates the other. However, when their friends set them up on a blind date, they’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: language, Reader is still thirsty, fluff, Mimi wants to gossip.

A/N: This series is part of @marvelmaree‘s birthday challenge. You can find the masterlist on my blog and hers! Enjoy!

Brunch with your friends and your sister is always a good time. You can’t complain. You have drinks, food and some of the people you love the most. And on this particular Sunday, you still feel the euphoria of your date with Sam.

All weekend you tried to let it go already, telling yourself that you were acting like a middle school girl. But at the same time, who cares, right? Once again, you reminded yourself to let yourself be for a moment, without your self-consciousness stopping you from simply feeling.

“Is she daydreaming again?”

“I bet she’s thinking about Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“No one, baby. Eat your food.”

Someone snaps their fingers in front of your face. You blink a couple of times before frowning at the owner of said hand. Maria doesn’t flinch under your glare.

“Where did you go?” Noelle asked.

You take a sip of your mimosa before you answer.

“Back at L’Orage.”

“Annnnd…?” Natasha pushes.

“We—” you begin, but your gaze meets Michelle’s.

She’s looking at you like she also wants all the tea. Your eyes lower to her empty plate, hers follow your gaze. You know what she’s thinking, and she knows what you’re thinking.

“Mimi, you’re done eating right? Why don’t you go watch some TV inside?” you say before her little hand reaches the basket of pastries on the table.

“But—”

“Auntie Henny is right,” Noelle cuts her and you roll your eyes at the nickname. “We don’t want you to get sick, right?” she says, rubbing her belly.

“Okay, Mommy. Can I get more juice from the fridge, please?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”

Just like that, she’s back inside the house.

“I thought the use of that nickname was forbidden in this house,” you say.

“We’re in the backyard,” your sister gives you an innocent smile.

You throw your napkin at her but she easily catches it.

“Anyways. We kissed.”

“Huh,” Natasha crosses her arms over her chest and lays back on her chair. “But?”

“What?”

“There’s a but. There’s always a but with you,” Maria says.

“There’s no but. We kissed, that’s it. It was a very nice kiss. Then he took me home—Back here!” you add quickly when you see how big Maria and Natasha’s eyes got. “He said he’s down for a second date.”

“So how do you feel about him?” Maria asks.

“Do you want me to tell you you were right? Because that’s not gonna happen.”

Maria gives you a look. You sigh.

“It turns out he doesn’t hate me at all. He was actually kind of shocked when I talked to him about that. He thought I didn’t like him,” you take another sip of your drink. “I like him a lot. He’s nice, funny, he listens to me when I talk.”

“Annnnnd…?” this time it comes from Noelle.

“And I kinda want him to bend me over a desk some time.”

The four of you burst out laughing like madwomen.

“More seriously, I guess I should thank you guys. I had a really nice time.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” Natasha rubs your arm. “Personally, I think you guys are a match made in heaven. Literally.”

“Don’t jinx it, Nat!” Maria exclaims.

Natasha makes a zipping motion over her lips with a little smirk.

As Noelle refills your champagne flutes and you move on to another topic – here Noelle and Laetitia, the mother of the new kid in Mimi’s class --, you can’t help but feel grateful for this moment.

You were lucky to find people you can rely on other than your sister after so many years. After everything that happened. Sure your sister is your best friend and vice versa, but sometimes you can’t help but feel guilty about all the stuff you dump on her.

It’s not easy for you to interact with people and maintain healthy relationship. You try your best to find a nice balance between over communicating and totally isolating yourself. You’re still a work in progress though.

That’s why all this dating business was pushed aside for a few years.

Maria and Natasha end up spending the rest of the day at your house. You order takeout, drink some more – responsibly though, all while binge-watching Disney movies and playing board games with Michelle. It’s the nicest day you’ve had in a hot minute.

When the girls leave and it’s finally time for bed, you go to sleep with the ghost of today’s smiles still dancing on your lips.

In your opinion, Mondays are overrated. You never understood this whole thing anyway. Sure it’s the beginning of a new week, but it’s still a day like the others.

This particular Monday though, is a bit special. You’re excited to see whether or not Sam had the flowers delivered in your office. So excited that you’re walking around with a huge grin, your face beaming as you step into the elevator.

“Well good morning m’lady,” Scott from HR greets you when you step off the elevator. He’s at the front desk, talking to Rumlow.

“Morning Scott,” you say, still smiling.

“You got a secret admirer, huh?” Scott asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Your office is filled with flowers. And I mean filled. Janet walked by ten minutes ago and she hasn’t stopped sneezing since. Y’know, allergies.”

“Oh, um… I—” you stutter, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m just messing with you, kiddo. Just—If it’s a dude from around here, just make sure you stop by my office some time, ‘kay?”

Okay… You need to end this conversation now. You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Honestly, it’s not that you don’t like Scott, everybody likes Scott. It’s just that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

“Sure thing, Scottie. You have a good day, okay?”

You don’t wait for his answer before you keep walking towards your office, climbing the stairs leading to the first floor with ease.

A woman you don’t recognize is standing in front of your office, staring at the glass wall. The cleaning crew must have left the blinds open again despite your multiple notes.

“Hello,” you greet her before you reach your office. “Can I help you?”

You can’t see the inside yet but Scott was right, the scent is strong. Just how many flowers did Sam send?

Her gaze meets yours as she whips her head towards you, her long burgundy hair following the movement. She’s wearing a green suit, a bold but beautiful contrast with her skin tone.

“Hi!” she smiles. “I’m sorry, is this your office?”

“Yes. You’re new here, right?”

“Yes, yes. My name is Gamora, I’m the new Digital Manager,” she offers her hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself as you shake her hand. “… I take care of—”

“Events, yes. It’s written on your door. Anyways, I was just looking at the flowers in your office. Must be nice. My boyfriend… He’s not really that kind of guy.”

“Um…”

Once again, you don’t know how to talk to people.

“Sorry if I’m being weird.”

“Oh, no, it’s… Don’t worry about it. So where are you from?” you ask.

You figure you should at least try to make small talk with her. She seems nice, she has a very kind face. There’s something about her eyes though… She’s clearly been through a lot.

“I’m from New Asgard, in Norway.”

“Wow, how did you end up here?”

“My boyfriend, Peter. He lives in the US and he asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t say no.”

The name makes you flinch, but you wipe the discomfort away as soon as it appears. Peter is a common name. In this city alone there are hundreds of them. You need to get used to it, it’s been years already.

“Well, on behalf of the entire Red Wing team, I’d like to say welcome,” you give her a genuine smile.

“Thank you so much. That means a lot.” With a sigh, she throws one last glance towards your office before she starts walking away. “I better find Scott, we’re not done with the tour yet. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

“Sure. Have a good day!”

Once she turns around the corner, you take the last few steps that lead you to your office.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

Your office is filled with flowers all right. It’s not just fifty like Sam said. At least a dozen of bouquets of red roses, tulips and peonies are scattered around your office. On your coffee table, the empty spaces on your bookshelf, the floor… everywhere but on your desk. Thank God, the scent isn’t disturbing to you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper again.

You can’t believe your eyes. You set your bag on your desk and draw the blinds over the glass walls to keep the prying eyes out of your business. Walking around a bit, you take the time to inhale and admire every single bouquet.

“Wow, he really wasn’t joking.”

You turn around to find Natasha and Maria standing in your doorway, holding huge mugs.

That’s right the morning coffee. Morning coffee is always in your office on Monday and Wednesday.

“Aw sweetie, don’t cry!” Natasha grabs a tissues from the box on your coffee table and hands it to you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying. Damn, he really had you in the palm of his hand, huh?

“It’s just, no one has ever done something like this for me before, and I feel stupid now because I’m crying for fucking flowers.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid, okay?” Maria chips in. “From what you told us, you’re not used to this kind of treatment, so it’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed right now. Here,” she hands you one of the mugs she’s holding. “Mantis told us you just got in so we figured you didn’t have time to make your cup of tea yet.”

“Thank you.”

You take a sip of the beverage, the hot liquid helping with the lump in your throat.

“Is… Is he here?” you ask.

Their offices are located on the floor above yours along with Sam’s, so you rarely see him during the day.

“Not yet,” Natasha replies. “He’s late. Something about getting Falcon a new cone.”

Oh yeah. He mentioned his dog’s surgery Friday night.

“Good morning, ladies. You talking about me?”

There he is.

Sam is standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips, always handsome. A warm feeling spreads in your chest at the sight of him, and this morning’s grin is back in an instant.

“Samuel,” Maria greets him. “You’re late.”

“Ah shit. The boss wouldn’t like that, would he?”

“Whatever,” Maria rolls her eyes at him.

“Maria, come to the kitchen with me, I want to see if the pastries have been delivered already,” Natasha says, grabbing Maria’s arm.

“But shouldn’t we go with—” her sentence is cut short by Natasha’s pointed look. “Ohhh. Right.”

The girls shut the door behind them as they exit your office, you and Sam left alone.

“Morning,” he says, slowly approaching you. “Do you like the flowers?”

“I do, very much. What happened to the fifty flowers, though?”

Sam shrugs. “They were supposed to represent the number of times I wanted to kiss you. But as the weekend went by, I lost count, so…”

Goddammit.

“Come here,” you mumble.

You grab his hand and pull him closer to you, your free hand finding its place at the back of his neck. The kiss you give him is slow and sweet as you do your best to express your gratitude. You’ve been on one date, yet he has managed to make you feel more special than you’ve ever felt. He really is something. Sam kisses you back, and you can feel him smile as he does.

“Thank you,” you say when you break the kiss. “This is… wow.”

Sam keeps your body close to his, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“You’re welcome. So… about that second date. How do you feel about roller skating?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I kind of like it. I haven’t skated since I was a kid, though.”

Sam nods. “Dinner and roller skating. Let’s say… Wednesday?”

“Wednesday sounds good,” you smile.

“Okay.”

Sam peppers small kisses on your lips and the corner of your mouth before letting you go. You instantly feel colder.

As he walks to the door, you seat at your desk and power up your computer, ready to start the work day.

“Wait, I need one more,” Sam says.

He rounds your desk and spins your chair so you’ll face him, before giving you another kiss. Once again, he peppers small kisses on your lips and cheeks and this time, you can’t help but giggle.

“It’s not even noon yet and I’m having the best day I’ve had in a while,” he whispers.

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me blush,” you joke.

“Now that would be my greatest achievement.”

Sam leaves shortly after that, leaving you to start working with the same dumb smile from earlier on your lips.

***

Tags: @marvelmaree @ljstraightnochaser @blackmissfrizzle @youdonotghostnickfury @minillamakeup-blog

#maree's29thbirthdaybash #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x black reader

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thespiralgrimoire · 4 years

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I. NEED. TO. LEARN. MORE. ABOUT. FERRO's. UNIVERSE. Like are you kidding me? Fuego and Leo pulled a coup and killed every non-vermillion??! that's, wow, that's rich!! What's the heck is wrong with /THAT/ timeline? What about Asta's story there? the elves? the devils? Fuego really killed everyone? including NOZEL? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!

OH MY GOD ANON YOU’VE MADE MY ENTIRE DAY

HONESTLY this AU is underdeveloped because of the way it came to fruition in the first place, so nothing would make me happier but to make it a collaborative fandom project but here’s everything I’ve got on it

Under a Read More because it might get lengthy

First, a disclaimer: This AU was born out of a dream. I had a dream about a plucky teenager participating in a Magic Knight’s exam that was designed more like The Hunger Games, and when I woke up, I said to myself, I gotta get in on that. So that’s why some of the details of this AU are a little fucky. Dream logic.

Now, the inciting event for this AU is twofold: First, Acier lives. SECOND, her sister, Kirsch and Mimosa’s mother, dies giving birth to Mimosa.

Sister’s death completely breaks down any bond between the Vermillions and the Silvas. It’s just. Messy. A lot of finger pointing, a lot of people not handling things well. Because while the Silvas were taught from a young age to bottle up their feelings, Vermillions tend to use their feelings as a weapon. And relations go south fast.

Acier has still been training Meoroleona. Nozel and Fuegoleon have still been rivals. But when this happens, everyone is forced to pick a side. Acier and Meoroleona don’t end their relationship on bad terms, but they do end it. Nozel and Fuegoleon’s relationship swiftly turns hostile. In hindsight, nobody is happy about the way things went down, but at this point there’s a No Man’s Land to civility that nobody is willing to cross, and nobody will cross it.

The Vermillions have the roughest time with this, but unlike the way the Silvas handled Noelle, nobody actually blames Mimosa for her mother’s death. They turn their grief into what they see as righteous fury and determine to turn this into a “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger” situation. This takes different forms over the years, but what basically happens is that everyone internalizes these feelings so deeply that while they all grow stronger, they also sort of grow apart.

Fuegoleon and Meoroleona have a blowout that completely shakes House Vermillion, and when Meoroleona leaves, she vows to never come back. No one believes that she would actually stay away, what with how close Fuego and Meoro were as kids, but when she leaves, she leaves. They see her once a year TOPS, and it’s never for a happy reason.

Fuegoleon, who has let his anger completely isolate him from the rest of his family, throws himself into being the Crimson Lion King, and while he’s incredibly successful, he loses parts of himself along the way. His ambitions override his caring nature and his inclination to share his strengths with others, and he becomes cold and determined, with a methodical outlook on relationships.

Leopold doesn’t become so callous-- he wasn’t old enough to remember his aunt’s death, he just had to grow up in the aftermath of it --but he follows in his brother’s footsteps, and while he’s not as mean about the way he does it, he’s not afraid to make some harsh decisions if it means being the best.

Kirsch and Mimosa decide that the best way to deal with this is to keep their heads down. Kirsch is fiercely protective of his little sister, because even though nobody is blaming Mimosa, he can’t shake the feeling that she may still have a target on her back. This makes Mimosa jumpy and clingy, never really developing the confidence to be her own person. While she can’t really nail down a particular reason for it, she’s scared of Fuegoleon and doesn’t trust Leopold. She can’t help but wonder how her cousins in House Silva are doing, but knows that all hell would break loose if she actually sought them out, so she feels constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place; the living embodiment of a schism between the royal houses.

The Silvas, on the other hand, go the other direction. Acier is still here, and she’s not letting her family rip itself apart like it did in canon. She remains the captain of the Silver Eagles and well-respected. Her kids have an even easier ride to the top with her still there to pave the way. She misses Meoroleona terribly. She knows that none of this was fair to any of them, and losing her sister AND her star pupil is a lot to work through. She keeps thinking that eventually she’ll get a letter or a surprise visit from the Undefeated Lioness, but she never does.

Nozel is genuinely heartbroken to have lost his rival and best friend, and, consequently, be left in the dust when he can’t keep up with Fuegoleon’s ambition, but he’s still got his mother and three little siblings, so they become his whole life. Without Fuegoleon’s rivalry to spur him on, he becomes good but not great, and is content to coast. He’s a mama’s boy, and as long as his mother is satisfied, he’d rather read and organize missions than go on them. On the bright side, he doesn’t deal with 90% of the stress he deals with in the canon universe. He’s actually pretty happy most of the time.

Nebra ends up being the classic middle sibling. Her magic is nothing special, but she’s a Silva, so she can go with the flow and still come out looking a little better than everyone else. While Nozel would rather spend time with books and Solid and Noelle would rather spend time with each other, she’s a drifter; she can hang with any of her siblings, or her mother, but she’s no one’s first pick. It doesn’t really bother her all that much unless she feels genuinely left out, and Mom never forgets about her, so it’s all good.

Solid and Noelle are thick as thieves, and the Silver Eagles’ superstars. They bring out the worst of each other and have a great time doing it. They’re a dynamic duo on the battle field and harbor unfathomable chaotic energy off of it. Getting sucked into their gravitational pull is dangerous, so Nebra, Nozel, and Acier tread lightly, lest they get dragged into, or end up the victim of their shenanigans. Of all combinations of Silva duos, they are by far the closest. Totally ride or die. That doesn’t mean that they don’t drive each other absolutely batshit crazy, and have some HUGE blowouts that waterlog half the castle, but that’s what siblings do. The nice thing about having each other is that neither of them end up in their siblings’ or mother’s shadows. The not nice thing about that is that they’re just. Little shits. Imagine Noelle acting the way she does in the beginning of the series, but being sincere about it. Imagine Solid acting the way he does, except he’s never checking to see if he’s got his siblings’ approval. Now imagine them patting each other on the back for acting like that. Yikes.

Then Ferro comes along. He’s the result of Solid knocking up his unnamed noble girlfriend when he’s 16-17. Acier is PISSED. All the other Silvas are scandalized. Solid is in big trouble. Acier suspends him from the Silver Eagles while she does damage control. What she eventually ends up doing is paying the girl off, and when the baby is born, she takes him into House Silva to raise him in secret. Nobody outside House Silva ever knows about him. He is House Silva’s best kept secret. This is an important detail.

The coup comes together. Fuegoleon has been working on this plan for a long time. Years. Leopold is on board, because Leopold would follow him off a cliff. But he’s also scared shitless. This is a much bigger deal than stepping on a few comrades to rise through the ranks. He slips a little. Kirsch catches wind of the plan. He gets in Leo’s and Fuego’s ear to remind them, hey, we’re Vermillions, too. So we’re cool, right?

Yeah, they’re cool. All they have to do is help their cousins kill everyone whose last name isn’t Vermillion. Kirsch thinks this is a pretty good deal to save him and his sister. Mimosa will later have her doubts, but we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.

Meoroleona was invited, but never shows up.

We’re about at the beginning of the show when the coup begins. I don’t have a good reason that it goes off as smoothly as it does. But everyone in Houses Kira and Silva dies, except Acier and Ferro. Ferro, now two, manages to watch his entire family get bodied without getting a scratch on him, because no one anticipated him being there. Acier is only able to defend herself and him before sneaking away.

Acier and Ferro flee to the Forbidden Realm, to a little town in bumfuck nowhere, to hide. They are never discovered by the Vermillions.

Fuegoleon becomes the Clover King. As far as they can tell, the coup is 100% successful. But the thing about fire is that it’s super useful for making people really dead, but when people are dying in heaps and being burned to ash it’s kind of hard to count how many bodies you’ve got. They don’t realize that they’re one short. With no one to stand in their way, Fuegoleon crowns himself Clover King. He disbands the Silver Eagles, and within the next few years, will crown himself Wizard King. It actually becomes pretty easy after Julius nerfs himself, whoops.

Unfortunately, Fuegoleon is starting to unravel. He gained a LOT of enemies doing all this heinous shit, and he is not a beloved king. Leopold is now the head of the Crimson Lion Kings, and he’s reporting back a lot of hostility among the captains. Not that they didn’t expect that, but there’s no way to practice sleeping with one eye open. That’s not to mention that the people are scared and confused, and that doesn’t make for a peaceful kingdom.

Over the course of years, he puts greater and greater restrictions on magic. It starts as permits to use spells in public places and soon grows into a near-total ban on grimoires for anyone outside the magic knights. With absolute power, he can kick people out of the magic knights AND take their grimoires. These rules both ease and exacerbate his growing paranoia. Everyone is pissed, but effectively stripped of their power, there isn’t much they can do about it.

Meanwhile, Acier is raising her grandson as a peasant, but never forgets that they’re royals. She teaches Ferro all of their family history, even though they have to keep it a secret. That gets kind of tricky since Ferro has royal-level magic in the middle of a town of peasants, but, you know, who’s gonna call him on it?

When Ferro is ten, he get recruited by a mysterious hooded figure to train his magic in secret. 90% of his magic training happens in a location he is taken to by a spatial mage. He, along with about a dozen other kids, are trained by a small band of mages who claim to be the resistance. Their goal is simple: Train the next generation of mages to take out the king and restore order to the kingdom. Ferro thinks this is pretty cool, and the honor isn’t lost on him, but he’s mostly glad that he can learn to control his magic in a way that makes his grandmother proud.

By the time Ferro is 15, grimoire ceremonies have been almost completely outlawed, so it’s a big deal when the resistance throws their trainees a grimoire ceremony. Once they’ve received their grimoires, they begin the next leg of their journey: become magic knights.

The Magic Knights Entrance Exam has changed a LOT in the last 15 years. This exam is deadly. In many instances, the point is to kill or be killed. Magic knights are being trained as a military force first and foremost, and their most important feature must be that they take orders unblinkingly. This does not fly with Ferro. While he’s extremely qualified for the position in every other way, he’s too nice to let people die, let alone kill them. He fails the exam. However, some of the other kids he’s trained with make it in.

So he needs a new plan. Spurned on by his grandmother and his teachers through the resistance, he decides to travel the Clover Kingdom. In the midst of his travels, Acier dies. At 20 years old, he is now the last Silva.

This fact makes Ferro pretty fatalistic, and at this point he decides the only rational thing to do is to force an audience with King Fuegoleon. Surely this won’t end in disaster. Definitely won’t be his untimely end by flames.

So there are a lot of holes in this AU, because it sprang up around this one character I had a wild dream about. A few mores notes:

Noelle joined the Silver Eagles, if that wasn’t obvious

The Vermillion coup takes place 1-2 years after the start of the show, and I have no explanation for how those events could fit into this timeline. They would definitely look a LOT different, that’s for sure

My notes on this end where they do because at the point where Ferro breaks into the royal castle to force this audience with the king, he actually gets thrown out of this universe and into another. So I guess for all intents and purposes, the Silva line ends for good in this universe

I know exactly where Meoroleona is and what she’s doing

I don’t know where exactly Kirsch and Mimosa are and what they’re doing when they disappear

So that’s all I’ve got! This isn’t a super duper happy AU, and definitely not flattering for everyone, but I was forced to flesh it out because I was told, very emphatically, “Evil Vermillions sexy.” I don’t disagree.

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ashestoashesjc · 5 years

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Bad Witches (0.3)

Some towns sleep more than they’d care to admit. They claim to be the town that never does, but they sleep. They bustle until the wee hours when even the traffic lights must catch shut eye. (This is the leading cause of late night car accidents, in fact). But not in Riverwake. No matter the hour, Riverwake is alive and in motion. At the peak of dawn, the rumble of mechanized street cleaners is something of an alarm: A new day is here. The only challenge is survival. The road is now adequately shiny.

On a day this beautiful, a person would be mad to waste even a second of it inside. This is why when the coven meets at their favorite restaurant, Giorgio's, for cocktails and gossip, they ask for outdoor seating, beneath a veil of dark gray umbrellas.

After the waiter brings around the first tray of flutes, Bev flags him down and whispers in his ear. When he returns, he has a pitcher filled to the brim with a hazy, dim yellow. He places it at the center of the table and walks off to attend to other diners.

Shrugging, Bev says, "Save him some trips."

During a third round of mimosas, Kate off-handedly mentions her father-in-law and his rocky relationship with his son, but that he thinks gifting Dan membership to their familial country club is effective enough as tension relief. Dan's typically too busy to take advantage of it, she says.

"But you still want to," says Bev, drinking from her orange-tinted glass.

"I didn't say that," says Kate.

"You didn't have to," Bev says, swatting at the air, "Does anyone else hear that buzzing? What is that? Do you think a WASP snuck in?" The other witches attempt to stifle their giggles.

Turning bright red, Kate leans back into her seat, clutching at her glass and bringing it closer to her face so as to slightly cloud the next words she mutters, "I can invite guests, by the by."

The witches' ears perk up.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been to a country club," Matt says, "The wealthy have historically neglected basic hand-washing techniques. Seems like a petri dish, but in a higher tax bracket.”

"I'm from the country. And I've been to a club. Does that count?" Haley asks, still nursing her first mimosa.

"What should we wear?" Bev asks.

Kate sets her glass down to refill it from the orange pitcher, "Dress for spring."

So, they do. The next morning, they are all casual shorts and solid-colored polos and white visors. Only, it's a month away from the dead of winter and it's the middle of Massachusetts. Bev, Matt, and Haley stand outside of the given address and, with their miserable shaking, resemble a group of very posh street urchins.

Kate arrives in a cozy-looking fur-lined parka and upon seeing the other witches' bewildered expressions, snuggles affectionately into the mink hood, "Teach you to mock me."

The other witches follow Kate into the almost intimidatingly large, red-bricked building. What are presumably wings stretch nearly a kilometer in each direction.

"One of you couldn't have ch-checked the weather before leaving the house?" Bev admonishes, one shiver away from legally qualifying as an icicle.

"T-throwing a lot of stones in that g-glass igloo, aren't you?" Haley asks.

The combination of central circulated heating and at least two fireplaces (one in the den closest to the club's entrance; one in the more formal of the two dining areas) nearly melts the witches as they linger with Kate at the front desk.

"Okay, we're approved," Kate says, shaking hands with the attendant behind the desk, "Just don't touch anything."

"Damn. There goes my Grand Theft Itinerary," says Bev.

Looking at her sternly, Kate says, "Don't even joke about that. They will absolutely kick us out."

The witches huddle at the end of the entrance hall, dissecting the list of offered activities. Bev is interested in exactly none of them, but does wish to examine their stock of spirits. Matt begins spraying himself with hand sanitizer the moment he notices how many of the items have a "Group Activity" label.

A woman in a calf-length Houndstooth coat walks past the group but stops to gaze at Kate's jacket, fawning over its charm and subtle glamour. She asks if Kate also bought her coat from Nordstrom. She then asks if Kate plans to play in a tennis match later.

Kate happily confirms that, yes, she will be playing. They chat for a little longer and Kate is still smiling when the woman bids her farewell and walks further into the club's interior.

"How are you going to play?" Matt asks, pointing to the tennis poster pinned to the cork bulletin board at the lobby entrance, "It's Doubles and three of us will likely solidify if we venture outside."

"Oh, we're still playing tennis. Do you know how much I had to bribe the babysitter to come on such short notice?" asks Kate, "They have a heated indoor court," she says, taking off her coat to reveal a sensible, pale beige skirt and thin, rust red pullover.

"Oh, they're fancy fancy," says Haley.

Kate finds the sports center in the left wing, guided by the rambunctious sound of middle aged aerobics. It is a vast gymnasium filled with varied exercise equipment and a bounty of helpful regimens: elliptical trainers, stair masters, Homeless Person Avoidance Training, medicine balls, etc. There's even a rock climbing wall mounted in the back. There are no cables attached to it for fear that people may actually wish to use it, but it has its scenic benefits. She then sees the tennis court, a green square girded with a chain link fence. She spies the sign-up sheet on a plastic folding table at the entrance and begins scrawling her name.

As she flourishes the Barston-ending 'n' and admires her penmanship, an unexpected voice takes her by surprise.

"You're in the way," says the voice and Kate notices that it belongs to the robust, older gentleman looming behind her. He is accompanied by a smaller, leaner fellow and together they look like a before and after advert for malnutrition.

Kate nearly leaps out of the man's direction when she notices her folly. "Sorry! I wasn't paying attention."

"Never seen you here before," says the shorter, wheat blond man.

"Yes, I'm a new--" begins Kate, holding out her hand in anticipation of a handshake.

"Who's your husband?" interrupts the other man, a gray halo of hair situated on the perimeter of his scalp.

"I'm not sure how--" starts Kate, slowly lowering her hand.

"That's how you got in, right?" he asks as he bends down to add his own name to the roster, "Bring the 'Girls' for a 'Fun Weekend' at the country club and then fuck off to whichever Wellness Spa you crawled out of?"

"That's--" Kate tries to interject.

"We promise not to beat you too badly later, okay?" the blond interrupts as he saunters off, followed shortly by his friend.

She is left standing alone at the front of the sports center, not entirely sure she has correctly interpreted the preceding events. In her mind, she loops through their meeting again and again, wondering what she did wrong. When she does realize that she, in fact, ‘Just Got Dunked On’, grim is not the right word to describe the aura she emanates. It's pretty close, though.

Kate staggers into the common area and, seeing the rest of her coven lying haphazardly across an island of recliners, plops into one of the vacant chairs. Her entire demeanor is a haggard sigh.

Trading concerned looks, the witches aren't sure who should handle this. They play "Rock, Paper, Sigils" while Kate slumps further into the padded leather. The agreed upon worst candidate for helping someone through distress is also apparently really bad at games of chance because when she loses, Bev swears under her breath.

Bev very tepidly strokes Kate's back and whispers, "Now, now. Emotions are..." she gulps, "Perfectly normal. I have them all the time." She retches.

Taking Kate's hand, Matt asks, "What happened?"

A full body sigh later and Kate appears to have summoned the drive to retell the tale. By the time she's through, the witches bear the expressions of those personally wronged. How dare anyone make fun of Kate? And not even behind her back like a decent person. WASPS have feelings, too.

"You should've led with that," says Bev, cracking her knuckles, "I'll kill them."

Matt nods, "I don't know about getting someone else's blood on me, but yes, murder seems in order."

Haley can't believe what she just heard. She really can't. She stopped listening halfway through to stare at someone she thought might be her Little League coach. But why would they be here, ten states away in this country club common area? It just doesn't make sen-- Oh, no, that's someone else, nevermind. Oh, god, now everyone's looking at her. Make something up, make something up.

"Like a flock of crows in V-formation," says Haley. Nailed it.

"You guys... you have no idea how much this means to me," says Kate, a welling in her eyes, "I know with you by my side, Bev, we can--"

"Oh, yeah, no, I don't want to play," Bev corrects.

Clearly disappointed, Kate's face sobers a little, but she looks to Matt with hope.

"Sorry, me either. I didn't mean to mislead you," says Matt, sincerely apologetic.

Kate feels as though the dinghy she just acquired footing in has capsized beneath her.

Haley smiles.

Kate looks to her nervously, but the smile only widens. "Have... you ever actually played tennis?" Kate asks.

"Sure, I played a little at home," Haley says. Kate sighs.

"Of course, we had wooden rackets and the strings were made from goat guts, but how different could it be?" Haley asks. Kate sighs again and internally resigns to her fate, but still intends on having a very fun, very non-competitive time.

On the court, shortly before their starting match, Haley tests the weight of the carbon fiber racket. She tosses it from hand to hand and gives a few practice swats. Once, she sends the racket flying, leaving her to run to the middle of the court and retrieve it.

Their first few matches - one with a couple from Denver and the other with the woman they encountered in the lobby and her "chiropractor" who is definitely only half her age because it helps to be young and limber in his profession. Definitely - are nothing to write home about. Haley's home, in particular, is where you should not be writing to. Because they would not be very impressed with her performance. But after getting used to how light this inferior plastic racket is, the aerodynamics of its slender frame, the whistle of its whip through the air, she feels a touch more comfortable.

This comfort is promptly squished like a windshield mosquito when their next opponents enter the fence. Kate's heart falls when she recognizes the sheen of one man's head and the smarm on the other's lips, but her face is unflinching steel.

"Didn't think you'd still be here," the blond says, his eyes a sneer.

The walking comb over assumes his place across the court and, beginning to stretch, says, "They wanted to lose to real men. I don't blame 'em."

Haley exhales. The match begins.

For the first set, the court is a frenzy of movement. Rhythmic thwacking echoes across the gymnasium. The squeaking of sneakers, the breathy grunts upon each impact, the flicked beads of sweat as they dart to strike the racket. All four are giving it their all.

But Kate and Haley are just too accurate. Too fast. Too relentless in their fury.

Nearing the end of their third set, Kate and Haley have dominated the game, easily leading over their opponents' hefty score of one. What was only meant to be a playful diversion sees the girls one favoring play away from taking the whole kit 'n' caboodle. Reigning victorious. But, like, in a fun, non-competitive way.

This is what it all comes down to.

"They would be good at this," huffs the gray-haired man to his partner, "Chicks and tennis." He serves the ball, and Haley, in her distraction, swings and misses. A green blur zips by her head.

The gray-haired man chuckles, "I think that's our point."

"One of them even looks like Serena," his blond partner wheezes hoarsely. They burst into ill-concealed snickers.

"One more round?" Kate asks, bouncing a tennis ball.

"One more round," Haley concurs.

They trade the tennis ball back and forth with their opponents, the net flapping with every pass. For a few tosses, they are very light swings, measured and contained. But in one of her connections with the ball, Kate applies a considerable amount more force to the racket. The tennis ball responds with equal vigor, shooting from her racket's wired face and careening toward the other side of the court.

But it never hits either of the men's rackets. Or makes contact with the ground. It simply floats and whirls at a standstill just past the net.

No one moves a muscle.

The silent stillness of the moment is broken when the blond man appears to muster the confidence to approach the green rotation. He seems to have descended from glaciers with the time it takes him to close the gap. Mere inches away, he stares up at the tennis ball in the exact way that you're not supposed to stare at the sun.

He lifts his hand and reaches slowly upward with an extended finger.

The ball, still in a rapid spin, yet frozen in mid-air, comes undone and pelts the blond directly between the eyes. He goes to the ground and rolls onto his back, his scream slightly muffled by the hands now covering his face.

Exclaiming his name, the gray-haired man runs over to kneel and assist his partner.

Focused on tending to his friend, he is blissfully unaware when, under Haley's intense stare, his shoestrings loosen and then intertwine, lacing together.

"I think that's our point," says Haley.

The man clambers to a stand and starts off toward her with a warning, huffy "Why, you little..." before tripping and spilling to the ground like a freshly slingshotted Goliath.

The blond, a red burn at the center of his face, goes to help him, but his shorts sink quickly to his feet and he falls in a tangle to the green mat.

"That's set," says Kate.

"And match," says Haley.

They grasp hands in a high five and make their way to the fenced door.

As they exit the court, Haley shouts back to the groaning men, "And I would love to look like Serena! She's a goddamn Amazon!" Even after they've exited, Haley can still be heard shouting, "An Amazon!"

They've made it halfway into the main house when they run into Matt just outside of the kitchen, wearing a black apron, stamped with the country club's logo.

"Why are you--?" Haley begins before Matt raises a hand and cuts her off with a sharp breath.

"I went to the restaurant to sample their Chateaubriand," he says, pulling the apron strings over his head, "But someone mistook me for a waiter and one thing led to another, and I report for duty at 9 am."

Slinking down the hall to join them, Bev says, "That's really going to confuse your students."

"Where have you been?" Kate asks.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you guys about," she says.

Occasionally looking over her shoulder to ensure she's not being followed by any of the club's staff, Bev leads the coven to the rear section of the expansive building. Despite the recently watered ficuses, it doesn't appear as though this area of the club receives much visitation.

Taking another cursory look, Bev waves the witches into a room and closes the door behind her. Once she flicks the light on, an old ballroom comes into focus. The dusty, white grand piano, tucked in the room's corner, has uneven keys. The floor is cedar coated in a thoroughly scuffed varnish.

At the center of the room is a freshly painted and ornamented circle, surrounded in thick, off-white candles.

"You've been busy," Kate says.

"Since we got here, I've sensed a mass of souls, trapped just beneath the floorboards," says Bev.

"I felt it, too," says Matt, "I suspected it was just the unease that comes with being in a country club."

"There's that, too," Bev says.

Bev stomps on the floor and a chorus of weak groans ekes up, "That's at least 30? Maybe 40 unhappy ghosts." She locks eyes with Kate, hesitates for a moment, and says, "We have to do something."

Kate, all out of sighs for the day, brings her hands together and lets them go with a deep breath. "Okay," she says, "What do we do?"

There's no boom box available to blast "Wannabe" while they work, so their preparation lacks a distinct Spice, but they each have their jobs and they each complete them with an expected diminished enthusiasm.

Once Kate's finished lighting the candles, Haley flips the light switch and they take their positions.

Because it was her idea, Bev heads the ritual, and thus initiates the throaty, guttural chanting. As she nears the end, like a musical round, another witch starts from the beginning. And the cycle continues until, thrumming like a locust swarm, the coven is in overlapping cacophony.

As their chanting increases in volume and an impossible wind whips their hair to and fro, the candle flames grow into angry blazes. And in an instant, they extinguish.

And the room goes dark.

Then, suddenly, light returns as a host of faint, blue-white specters encircle the witches. As a few seconds pass and they regain more human forms, a great variety of age among them, the "Leader" of the group, a weathered man in an eagle feather-adorned headdress, nods to the coven. One by one, their forms dissipate. Soon, they've all faded, leaving one little girl, clutching a small toy bunny. She waves at the witches and too disappears.

The candles flicker back to life.

"So good of you to release them," Kate says, laying her hand on Bev's shoulder, "The afterlife will be kind to them."

"Right. Release," Bev says, tapping Kate's hand.

From outside of the ballroom there comes a scream. Looking a smirking Bev in the eyes, Kate pulls her hand away and makes for the door.

The chaos encapsulating the country club can be heard in its full intensity the moment Kate cracks the door open.

It's difficult to decipher exactly what is transpiring: a typhoon of well-clothed, well-fed patrons bounds in every direction. They wail and beg and stumble over each other, flown after by a roaring cavalcade of translucent figures.

The witches watch as the little girl who thanked them earlier flies through the bottom of a couple's table and into their roasted duck, chasing them with scornful, flailing drumettes as they scream for mercy.

Kate's face gets in the way of her palm.

"You know, I saw a hand sanitizer dispenser in the bathroom," says Matt, "Maybe this place isn't so bad after all."

#i'm sure i'll catch a bunch of typos and things i want to edit later #but here's snippet 3 #Bad Witches

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years

Text

Of Cars and Bars Chapter 10/14

As always, thank you Krystal @kmomof4 for all of your amazing beta work and for just being a lovely person. Twice now you’ve talked me out of giving up on this one! This story exists because of and is dedicated to you!

Please enjoy and extra long, extra smutty chapter during your quarantine.

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Chapter 10 - Circles

It's been years / Since we whispered soft / With the torch light on / And the big light off / We were tired boys / With the soap on our skin / And we'd fall asleep to the wind

"It's so nice to have girls around," Belle sighed as she picked at the last piece of French toast on her plate. Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret laughed and she turned bright red. “I mean -”

“We get it,” Ruby assured her. “The guys are great but sometimes you just need to get away from the testosterone and enjoy being around other women.”

“Exactly,” Belle agreed. Emma smiled. Belle had grown up surrounded by boys and continued to spend most of her time with them. She could only imagine how nice it must be to finally have some long-term female company.

“Should we get another round of mimosa’s,” Mary Margaret suggested.

“You shouldn’t,” Emma laughed. “It’s eleven in the morning. You’ll be out cold by noon if you have another.”

They were enjoying another one of those lovely, rare days off - their first since Austin nearly two weeks ago. They’d had a show last night and Emma had come so close to playing her new songs - yes, it was songs now. After that day with Killian, after the silly game that had reminded her of how fun and easy and cathartic it was to write music, she hadn’t been able to stop. It was like the floodgates had been opened and she had finally, finally found her way back to music.

She could do it on her own now. She’d written one or two songs sitting quietly in the back of the bus while the others slept or played cards or browsed the internet on their phones. But she still wrote with Killian when she could - not because she needed his help or support, but because she enjoyed it. Writing with him was fun, it was easy, and it was quickly becoming one of her favorite things to do.

Who was she kidding? Spending time doing anything with Killian was becoming one of her favorite things to do. She tried to convince herself that it was just the fact that they were so productive - she’d have a whole album soon at this rate - and the fact that the celebratory sex afterwards was just mindblowing. But honestly… she didn’t know. She just liked spending time with him. She liked listening to his stories and discovering new little quirks about him, things that were the inevitable result of being around each other so much.

She just… she liked him. Fuck. She liked him. She tried to calm her breathing whenever that little thought made itself known. It’s okay to like your friends, she would remind herself. You like Ruby and Mary Margaret and Belle. You can like your friends. It was just a lot more complicated when that friend set her skin on fire and made her also want to jump his bones whenever he smiled at her. That was where it got blurry.

“Excuse me,” a small, nervous voice said and Emma looked up to see three young, teenage girls standing next to their table. They were clutching their phones to their chests and practically bouncing on their toes. “Are you Emma Swan?”

She looked at them a little skeptically. “Yes?”

Smiles lit up their whole faces. “We’re huge fans! We were at the show last night and oh my god, you were just so amazing! We love your songs! Can we take a picture with you?”

Their words came out in a frenzied jumble and it took Emma a moment to catch up to what exactly was going on. Then it hit her. Holy shit. These were fans. She had fans. She’d been recognized, in a public place, by people who liked her music. She felt starstruck. She realized the irony of that.

“Of course you can,” Ruby answered for her when Emma sat there dumbly with her mouth hanging open. The girls squealed and rushed up beside her and she did her best to smile and not look like a terrified idiot as they continued to tell her how much they loved her and took dozens of pictures.

“Can we take one with all of you?” one of them asked. “You’re her band right?” Mary Margaret and Ruby stood with much more tact than she had and let Belle take a photo of the six of them, smiling and making faces.

“Thank you so much!” the second said as she looked through the pictures on her phone.

The third one piped up then. “Can I ask you, what’s it like playing with Abandon Ship!? I mean, how do you even function? They’re all so hot and so talented, you must just love it.” Emma fumbled for something to say, trying not to laugh as her friends did as well.

“Liam is just so hot,” the first one spoke again. “Is he single?” she whispered, hoping Emma would let her in on some secret. Emma bit her lip to hide her smile, she didn’t want to smile while she crushed this poor girl.

“Actually,” she said, nodding to Belle. “This is his wife.”

The girl looked like she’d been completely deflated. “Oh.”

“What about Killian?” the third girl asked. She was about fourteen.

Emma hesitated. She hated that she hesitated. She didn’t have any claim on him. They had an understanding. And this was a teenage girl, not someone Killian would even be interested in. But still, the words got stuck in her throat before she let them out. They felt wrong coming out of her mouth. She didn’t like that either.

“As far as I know, Killian’s single.”

The girls squealed and thanked them and headed off. Ruby was looking at her. Emma tried to avoid her gaze but then finally met her eyes and glared a little bit. “What?” she demanded. Ruby just gave her a pointed look and a shrug that said ‘you know what’.

Shit. Shit. When had she started caring whether or not Killian was single? When had she started thinking that he wasn’t? When had Ruby noticed? Emma didn’t do jealousy. They weren’t together, they were friends and they were sleeping together. She had no right to get possessive of her fuck buddy. He could do what he wanted. With whoever he wanted. It was none of her business. She didn’t care.

“How can she be his wife if she’s not even with him on his birthday,” they heard one of the girls mutter under their breath when they thought they were out of earshot. It took Emma longer to put it together than it took Ruby.

“What? It’s Liam’s birthday today,” she nearly screeched. Belle shut her eyes for a second, then gave a little sigh.

“Yes. But you can’t tell him you know.”

“Why not?” Mary Margaret asked.

“He hates his birthday,” Belle told them. “He has some weird complex about getting older. He’s refused to celebrate any birthday since his twenty-ninth. It’s stupid but he won’t let me even mention it. He’s having some kind of crisis.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Emma said. It was.

Belle shrugged. “I know but… well, he never really had birthday parties when he was younger either, we didn’t have the money or parents to throw them for us. By the time he was able to, he felt too old for them. Now he just feels too old in general.”

“How old is he?” Ruby asked.

“Thirty-two.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, he’s practically a child.” A sly grin came over her face then. “We should throw him a party.”

“He’ll never go for it,” Belle said, but she didn’t sound against the idea.

“A surprise party then,” Mary Margaret suggested, getting excited.

“I’ve wanted to throw him a party for years but he’s really got some hangup about his age. I don’t know if it’s because he was always a few years older than us or what but he really doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s not in his twenties anymore.” She rolled her eyes in that way only someone in love could, like their partner was the biggest idiot they’d ever met and they absolutely adored that about them.

“Okay then, let’s not throw him a thirty-second birthday party. Let’s throw him a sweet sixteen!” Ruby exclaimed.

“Did he get a sweet sixteen?” Mary Margaret asked. Belle shook her head. “Then he’s overdue!”

“Yeah, and come on, everyone knows a party is more for the people throwing it than the birthday boy. It’s our last night before three straight weeks of shows. We could use some fun, unwind," Ruby pushed.

"I’d love to be sixteen again without all the hormones and homework,” Mary Margaret sighed.

Belle smiled, clearly getting on board with the idea. “Okay, I’m in. But it’s going to have to be a surprise - a real one - or he’ll never let us get away with it.”

“Awesome!” Ruby was in full combat mode now. “Belle, do you think you can keep Liam occupied all day?”

Belle hung her head. “Yeah. He’s been trying to convince me to go to this tall-ship exhibit in town. I swear he set up the tour dates just so he’d be here for it,” she groaned, clearly hating the idea of spending her day below deck on a bunch of old boats. Emma was starting to understand where all the nautical puns might have come from. Liam was a secret, giant nerd - just like his brother. “I’ll go with him,” she continued, and Emma could tell that this was really her taking one for the team. “If I let him give me a tour and teach me what he already knows about the ships, we should be there for a few hours at least.”

“Your sacrifice is noted,” Emma said with a teasing smile. Belle laughed.

“Okay, you go ahead and get him out and we’ll round up the others.”

Emma knew there was no sense fighting it. She knew her friends well enough to understand that at this point her best option was to just do as she was told and join in. Besides, a party would be fun. Ruby’s parties were always fun. Mary Margaret’s themed parties were always even more fun. And who knows, maybe she’d get to play a little seven minutes in heaven with Killian. She smirked.

Once Belle and Liam had left, they rounded up the boys and filled them in on their plans. They were met with excitement and a little bit of mischief on the part of all three.

“About time someone makes him get his head out of his own arse,” Killian said. “If he’s going to continue to insist on calling me little brother he’s going to have to eventually admit that he’s older than me.” He smiled. “What do we have to do?”

“We only have a few hours,” Ruby informed them. “Graham and Killian, you guys are on the room and the booze.” Emma wanted to protest, realising her friend didn’t know about Killian’s history but Killian gave her a small smile and shook his head, stopping her.

“What about the room?” he asked. “Are we not just going to have it in Belle and Liam’s?”

“No. This is a party. Their room is a little bigger than ours but barely -” she held up a finger when he tried to speak. “Shut up about your weird brother, size issue. That room is barely big enough for two people let alone eight.” Killian looked a little disgruntled but kept his mouth shut. “When you get the booze, make sure it’s only the kind of stuff you would have drank at sixteen. Shitty beer, wine coolers, vodka, whatever.”

“How are we supposed to get a new room?” Graham asked. Ruby looked at him with amusement.

“Honey, you’re famous now. Go let the staff know that they have rock stars staying with them and I’m sure they’ll gift you the penthouse.” She gave him and Killian a smirk. “And if that doesn’t work go bat your pretty little eyes at them and see what happens.”

Killian looked way too excited about that option. Of course he would be. Emma wanted to roll her eyes. Ruby continued to assign their tasks.

“Mary Margaret, you and David are on food since you’re the two biggest foodies I know.”

“Really?” Emma said, surprised. “David?” She didn’t mean to be rude but she’d watched that man wolf down copious amounts of the nastiest, greasiest diner food she’d ever seen - without complaint.

“Oh yeah,” Killian said. “Don’t get him started on his pancakes.”

David smiled. “It’s all in the cinnamon.”

“Go figure out what the hell sixteen year old English boys eat and do your best to recreate it. Emma, you and I are on decorations.”

Emma sighed, resigned. She really really would have prefered to go help out with the booze or the food but she knew there was no point in arguing. She just didn’t relish the idea of tackling the dollar store with Ruby. She’d made that mistake once before.

The group was splitting up and Emma made a point to check in with Killian. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t mind switching jobs.” He was her friend. She was allowed to care if her friend was being put in a position that threatened his sobriety. She hadn’t realised she’d taken his hand until she felt him squeeze hers.

“I’m fine, Swan, Really. We play in bars and I’m used to people drinking around me.” He gave her a soft smile then. “Thank you for checking.”

She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “Whatever, I’m just trying to get out of shopping with Ruby.”

He smirked, she knew he didn’t buy it. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t buy it either. “Of course, Love.”

“Emma! Let’s go!” Ruby demanded and she sighed.

Killian squeezed her hand again, laughing. “See you soon,” he said before heading off after Graham to try and seduce the poor girl at the front desk. She rolled her eyes again. He was such an idiot. It was one of her favorite things about him.

The dollar store had been gruelling. Ruby had taken a serious ‘divide and conquer’ approach that was followed by her going over Emma’s portion all over again when she inevitably did it wrong. They were making their way back to the hotel now with every single sweet sixteen party decoration they had found in the four closest dollar stores as well as a few other decorations that Ruby had insisted she could make work.

They’d stayed in touch throughout, Killian keeping her informed that they had, in fact, successfully used their ‘dashing good looks’ - his words, not hers - to convince the girl at the desk, and her manager to let them have the penthouse suite for the night. She rolled her eyes at him again. She didn’t know if he was more proud of this rock star status or his seduction skills.

They reached the lobby and met the others there. Graham and Killian gave them their elevator keys and they all packed into the elevator with their bags. Emma tried very hard to ignore the memories that being in an elevator with Killian always brought on. It didn’t help that he was looking at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking and was intending to make good on the promises in his eyes. She wondered if everyone else found it hot in here.

They got to work quickly. Ruby ordered them about like a drill sergeant as soon as they got into the room. Emma barely had time to take in the massive suite. There were three bedrooms and a pullout couch in the living room. Each room had its own bathroom and there was even a kitchen. This room was nicer than any apartment Emma had ever been in, let alone rented. Killian walked up to her as she stared in awe, threw a friendly arm around her shoulder.

“It’s nice to be famous, isn’t it?” he joked. Emma shoved him and he laughed.

“Hey! You!” Ruby called, indicating at Killian. “Get over here and help Graham move the furniture.” They were trying to get stuff out of the way to have as much floor space as possible in the large living area. Ruby insisted it was necessary for the games they would be playing. However, the luxury of this place meant that all of the furniture was equally as luxurious and therefore apparently made out of the heaviest damn material in the world.

“Why doesn’t David have to help?” Killian protested.

“Because David is trying to figure out how and why the hell you would put macaroni into a pie,” David called back from the kitchen where he and Mary Margaret were scratching their heads while putting french fries into sandwiches and figuring out how to deep fry things that should never be deep fried, without a deep fryer.

“Exactly. You’re just standing there flirting,” Ruby added.

Killian sighed but walked over and took his end of the large sofa. Emma couldn’t help herself as she watched them - watched Killian - move the heavy furniture about the room. Her head tilted a bit, her tongue coming out to wet her bottom lip as she watched the muscles flex under his long sleeve shirt. She could see sweat starting to pool on his neck, his face straining a bit with the effort but still, of course, teasing Graham competitively about who was stronger.

Ruby’s arms came around her from behind then, resting her chin on Emma’s shoulder. “They’re not so hard on the eyes are they?” she said with a grin. Emma wanted to scoff but she only laughed. “Come on, you can admit it. You’d have to be blind not to notice.” Emma only smiled. She knew what Ruby was doing. She wasn’t going to give it to her. “Let’s go. You can stare later,” her friend said, poking her in the ribs. “We have decorations to hang.”

By the time they were done, the room looked like a John Hughes movie had thrown up on it. It was pretty perfect. Ruby had done an excellent job making the decorations just cheesy enough to be fun and quirky. The food smelled amazing and the booze was just the right reminder of her sixteen year old self to turn her stomach a little. That would be interesting. Ruby had spent the better part of the last hour getting everything ready for games - apparently there would be a lot of them.

Mary Margaret and Killian had just finished pouring over the playlist of songs that were popular when Liam was sixteen. Was he more of a Geenday fan or Usher? She heard her friend ask. Killian smiled. Britney.

The clerks at the front desk had been instructed to give Belle an elevator key and she’d texted that they would be getting to the hotel in five minutes. They went about frantically, shoving the bags out of the way, tidying up the kitchen and shutting all the lights before finding a place to hide.

Emma tried not to read into the fact that she and Killian had both found themselves behind the same couch. She tried even harder to ignore the way her pulse jumped when he pulled her against him, insisting she wasn’t hidden well enough. She didn’t know what his thumb gliding back and forth against her stomach had to do with hiding. She didn’t stop him though.

The lights came on and they all jumped up, shouting surprise to a very flustered and then slightly annoyed Liam. He looked to Belle who shrugged at him and said something they couldn’t hear. He gave her a little smile.

“Happy Birthday, Liam!” Mary Margaret came up and kissed him on the cheek. “You only turn sixteen twice!” He laughed and let her and Belle drag him into the room. He thanked David as he was handed a packet of onion flavored chips and a Guinness.

“You’re nearly forgiven,” he said to his friend. He looked up as Killian put ‘Toxic’ on full blast. He glared at his brother’s shit eating grin. “You, I’ll never forgive.”

They spent some time eating the surprisingly good, although strange, food. Why is everything in a pie? Emma wondered aloud to the laughter and defensive cries of all the Brits in the room. They even had a little bit of a karaoke party, singing along to all their old favorites. Emma was surprised at how many lyrics she still knew by heart. She was even more surprised at how many Kiley Minogue songs Killian and Graham knew off by heart.

She had way too much fun singing Franz Ferdinand with Killian. She tried really, really hard to not connect the way he was singing the lyrics to her now to the way he’d sung to her five years ago. But there was something about being sung to by this man… no wonder half the world was in love with him. Her heart caught in her throat at the thought. Shit. She needed to stop drinking wine coolers. They were going right to her head, making her think about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. Like how much she wanted to drag him into a closet right now, but also how much she really wanted to be able to reach out and just hold his hand without caring about everyone seeing.

The games were a relief as they were all forced to sit in a circle and Emma chose a spot far enough away from Killian that she wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch him in a way that was not at all friendly or sexual. At least until she could get her brain and her errant thoughts back under control, stop thinking about that middle ground between friends and sex that had been drawing her to him more and more.

The first game they played was Truth or Dare. Graham went first and set the tone for the rest of the game - and the night really. He looked Ruby dead in the eye and asked her, truth or dare. She chose dare without hesitating. Maybe it was the couple of tequila shots Emma had forced him to do with her or maybe he was just tired of hiding it but he dared Ruby to kiss him. The hoots and the catcalls that filled the room were deafening and Emma could feel her face splitting with her grin. It was nice to see Ruby so happy. It was nice to see her with someone who wanted everyone to know they were together too. She looked over at Killian, who was beaming. He winked at her.

Ruby went next, asking Killian who also chose dare. Ruby smirked before daring him to kiss the best looking person in the room. Emma saw his eyes flicker to hers and her heart skipped a little, wondering what he would do, if he would kiss her in front of everyone, what that would mean. He must have seen the panic on her face because he gave her a little smile before turning to David.

“C'mere you handsome son of a bitch,” he said before placing a loud, smacking kiss on his friend’s mouth. David made a show of swooning and fanning himself. She wanted to thank him, thank him for understanding that she wasn’t ready for everyone to know, for not pushing her. But she didn’t have to. He knew. He always did.

The next game they played was Spin the Bottle. That one got a bit weird, especially when Killian was forced to kiss his sister-in-law to their mutual disgust, and when Emma had to kiss Graham. She was pretty sure that David had some kind of special bottle spinning technique because he seemed to continuously land on Mary Margaret whenever it was his turn.

Emma tried not to get annoyed at the fact that she’d now kissed nearly everyone in the room but the bottle had never landed on Killian. She’d wanted to kiss him since this morning when he’d waggled his eyebrows at her while he ran off to seduce his way into a nicer room. Who was she kidding, she always wanted to kiss him. She wanted to do other stuff too… but those were less appropriate to a sweet sixteen party with all of their friends around.

They actually did play seven minutes in heaven. Emma hadn't thought Ruby would make them play this one but here they were, waiting for Belle and Liam to come back out of the closet as they all congregated around the snacks. Both emerged a little less than put together and the group applauded them loudly, throwing in a few crude remarks. Mary Margaret reached over to grab the next name out of the hat.

“Emma!” she shouted and Emma hung her head at the cheers. “And…” Mary Margaret's hand went back into the hat and she opened the little piece of paper she withdrew. She crumpled up in her hand, keeping it down at her side. “Killian,” she said with a challenge in her grin. Emma glared at her. She didn’t believe for a second that Killian’s name was on that piece of paper. Mary Margaret held her gaze for a moment, matching it, and then she winked.

“Lemme see it,” she said, holding her hand out.

“No.”

“Let me see it,” she repeated, reaching for Ruby.

Mary Margaret practically jumped across the room. “No! That’s cheating! Cheater!” she cried as Emma tried to get the paper from her. “She’s cheating! Ref! Cheat!” She turned to Liam who looked confused and surprised.

“Who me?”

“It’s your birthday.”

He made a show of considering it for a long time. “The judge rules in Mary Margaret's favor. Seeing the paper is cheating. And,” he added, pausing for dramatic effect. “As a penalty, your time has been upped to ten minutes in heaven.”

Emma sighed. Shit. First Ruby knew, now Mary Margaret apparently did too. Of course they knew. They always knew. Liam probably did too by the sounds of it. They hadn’t been careful enough. She wanted to care more… but the fear and the anxiety she’d come to associate with anyone knowing about her private life didn’t come. Maybe that was just because she was going to be locked in a small room with Killian, alone finally. Maybe it was just because it was Killian, period.

“Please, Swan,” Killian said, as he opened the closet door for her. “Do try your best to resist me.” She rolled her eyes at him.

The door shut. It was quiet, the music and voices outside muffled. It was dark too, the light having been left off ‘as per the rules’. She could feel him standing in front of her, there was barely enough room for the two of them to fit inside, let alone without touching. His breath was on her face and she could feel the warmth of him. Her heart started to race. She didn’t know at what. He seemed to sense something because he spoke then.

“Really Emma, we don’t have to do anything. We can stand here for ten and then come out looking completely put together and Ruby and Mary Margaret will be none the wiser.” He reached out and found her hand in the dark, did that thing where he ran his thumb over her palm and then her wrist. It slowed her heart a little.

How did he always know exactly what to say, exactly what she needed when she herself wasn’t even sure? He was so kind, so considerate of her feelings and her fears and it made her heart warm to him again in that way that scared her a little. But not as much as it used to. She smiled though he couldn’t see it. Her friends knew. No matter how they came out of here they knew, and Emma suspected they weren’t the only ones. The cat was out of the bag, so why couldn’t she have a little fun?

Emma wrapped her fingers around the hand that was still toying with hers, brought it to rest on her stomach just above the waist of her jeans. She smirked when she felt his breath hitch, his whole demeanor changing at once, his muscles tensed as he leaned in closer.

“And here I thought you’d be all bravado and false promises about how you could get me off in ten minutes.” It was her breath that hitched this time as his hand flattened against her stomach, reached down to the button of her jeans and flicked it open.

He breathed into her ear. “I never make false promises.”

His lips were at her neck then, trailing fire from her ear to the hollow of her throat as he pressed her back against the shelves, sealing their bodies together from chest to hips. She wanted to cry out but she made herself stay silent, not wanting to give the others outside any more fuel. His hips ground against hers, his hand still trapped between them and Emma fisted her hand in the back of his shirt as his fingers curled against her through the denim.

He pulled back, pushing her shirt up out of the way so he could take her breast in his mouth, working her nipple first through the cotton of her bra and then grunting as he shoved it out of the way. The feel of his tongue on her skin made her whine and he shushed her all while pressing harder and more intently against her core with his fingers in a move that was not helping at all.

Everything about his movements was quick and hard and dirty and Emma was already on edge, desperate for him to get rid of the damn barrier between her and his fingers so that he could touch her properly. She hitched a leg up over his hip, tried to pull him in closer, urge him to get on with it. They didn’t have time for teasing. He bit down on her nipple and she had to bite her tongue to stop the moan that tried to come out.

They were running out of time. He needed to be reminded, needed a challenge. She reached for his hair and dragged him away from her breasts, forcing him to pay attention to her voice. “The game is called Seven Minutes in Heaven, Killian,” she said harshly, her breath coming out in pants. He growled, almost sounding disappointed but she also knew that he couldn’t resist a challenge.

He pulled down the zipper of her fly and finally slid his hand inside. A choked moan escaped her as she felt his fingers against her heated flesh and he brought his mouth down over hers, keeping her quiet. He played her skillfully, like she was one of his goddamn instruments, knowing exactly where to tease and where to push to make her cry out. He didn’t waste any more time, sliding two fingers into her and finding her clit with his thumb.

“Gods, Love, how are you so wet?” he groaned against her neck, “I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low and desperate and it shot heat down through her to where his hand was, causing her to roll her hips against his fingers. “That’s it,” he said into her ear, biting at the lobe as his fingers increased their speed, matching the desperate rocking of her hips. His thumb circled around the sensitive nub, faster and harder with each stroke as her hand buried itself in his hair, pulling it as she tried to ground herself to something. She was probably pulling too hard, it was probably painful, but he didn’t protest.

“Fuck, Emma,” he breathed and she could tell he was watching her ride his fingers, whatever he could make out in the dark. “Fuck, I need you to come.” He increased the speed of his thumb on her clit, pressed down in a way that made her breath stop, made her cling to him like he was the only thing keeping her on this earth right now. “Come on,” he whispered, his tongue and teeth playing at the spot beneath her ear, his other hand finding her nipple through her shirt and working it with the same roughness he was showing the rest of her body, flicking and pinching.

“Yes, yes,” Emma begged in his ear, her voice so low she didn’t even know if he could hear it. She could barely hear it. All she could do was feel as the coil in her stomach tightened more and more in time with the circling of his thumb and the thrust of his fingers and the bite of his teeth on her neck.

He curled his fingers inside of her and she shattered, grabbing on to whatever she could find and all she could find was him. Her hand clutched desperately at the skin of his back under his shirt, at the hair at the nape of his neck as she continued to rock her hips, riding her way through it. She was trying to muffle her cry against his neck, her mouth open and desperate against his heated skin.

She kept waiting for him to pull back, to slide his fingers out of her, to slow his onslaught on her breast and on her clit, but he didn’t. She could feel herself already climbing towards another peak, this one not even finished.

She tried to question him but the words couldn’t come out, her breath ragged and choked as he pressed deeper into her, dragging his fingers against her walls. She threw her head back, she couldn’t handle the intensity of the feelings he was pulling from her, but she needed him to keep going, she was so close to coming again.

“We have ten minutes,” he told her, the words pressed against the hollow of her throat, his tongue dragging hot and wet against the skin there before moving to nip at her jaw, at her chin. His fingers kept pushing and pulling and curling, adding a third and flicking at her clit in a way that made her cry out so loud that his other hand flew from her breast and covered her mouth.

She didn’t care though, couldn’t bring herself to care or be quiet as he brought her higher and higher with teeth and tongue and fingers, her hips rocking against him, teeth biting down on the fingers pressed to her mouth until she came again, this one stronger and more earth shattering than the last. She felt tears stinging at the corner of her eyes as her body shook, convulsing as he brought her back down slowly, his lips soft now, gentle against her temple and her cheek and her lips.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his hand coming to trace the line of her cheek. She didn’t think he’d meant for her to hear it, didn’t think he’d meant for the kiss he placed to her lips to be quite so soft and sweet and longing as it was but she didn’t care. She let him kiss her, kissed him back just as gently and carefully, savoring the feel and the taste of him. Maybe it was just the aftershock of her orgasms that was making her feel this soft and open. Maybe it wasn’t.

They only just managed to right themselves, closing the fly and button of her jeans, Killian pulling his fingers into his mouth in a way that made her desire stir all over again, and then helping her smooth her hair and straighten her shirt before the door opened. Emma did her best to keep her breathing normal as they walked out with as much composure and dignity as they could muster.

She really thought they had their friends fooled for a minute there as they were greeted with a somewhat disappointed silence. Then, Graham saw Killian and erupted in a cheer, David and then the others following soon after. Emma looked at him, trying to figure out what had set off the uproar when she saw it. Killian had a hickey on his neck. She didn’t even remember giving it to him. She saw Killian shoot her a panicked look as his hand snapped up to cover the spot.

She let her face fall into her hand as their friends teased and ribbed them. But it wasn’t as bad as she expected. It was actually the exact kind of teasing she’d have expected if they’d really been sixteen and come out of the closet with a guy sporting a hickey. It was friendly and silly and over with quickly. She gave Killian a small, hopeless smile and a shrug. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal if they knew, she thought. Maybe she had been blowing it all up in her head, letting her own fears and insecurities convince her that she had to keep it hidden. A hesitant smile pulled at the corner of his lips before his cheeks reddened as his friends bugged him. He looked a little bit smug and it made her feel smug too.

The night continued on, there was more karaoke and some silly trivia games about Liam’s past, hosted by a smirking Belle. Emma didn’t get a single question right but laughed the whole way through. They gave him gifts, random, fun things they’d managed to find on their one day out. Emma had found a set of t-shirts at one of the dollar stores that read ‘captain’ and ‘first mate’. The excitement on Liam’s face and the dread on Belle’s was priceless.

Killian played him a song. It was a little cheesy as a gesture but Liam seemed to appreciate it. The song was about growing up together, about brothers. It was sweet and nostalgic and it brought a tear to Liam’s eye as he hugged his brother. Killian came up to her later while people were distracted playing flip cup. She’d stopped drinking a little while ago, one more wine cooler and she was gonna be sick from the memories alone. She also realised she didn’t mind being sober, especially when Killian was too. It let her feel like she could be a little more open, like the others wouldn’t notice or would forget in the morning.

“That was a great song,” she told him. He smiled. “You guys should add it to your set list.”

“Thank you,” he said. “That means a lot coming from you.” She rolled her eyes at him and he mimicked her, exaggerating the gesture and making her laugh. “You inspired it, you know.” She looked at him in surprise. “Really. Your song a few weeks ago, when we were playing the game, it was brave of you to be able to look back on a hard time and be open about it.” He shrugged a little. “It made me want to be brave too.”

She was reminded again by that little passing comment of how similar their lives had been, how much it had shaped them as people - how differently it had shaped them. Her life had led her to be scared, closed off and untrusting of anyone and everyone who tried to get past her walls. But for Killian it had had the opposite effect. He was so open and considerate and welcoming of everyone, so open to love and happiness and friendship that she envied him. She liked that he told her that she'd inspired him, that she’d made him brave. It was nice to know that it wasn’t just her who often found herself challenged because of him.

The party died down around midnight, all of them finding their way into different rooms and comfy spots and drifting off or passing out. Emma woke up suddenly in one of these spots, burning hot. She was damp with sweat and her skin felt like it was on fire. She realised she’d fallen asleep sandwiched between Ruby and Mary Margaret on the pullout couch under an extravagantly fuzzy blanket.

She peeled herself off the mattress, nearly stepping on David who was curled up on a pile of pillows on the ground beside them. She needed to get some fresh air, cool down before finding somewhere less crowded to sleep. She remembered that there was a balcony off of the kitchen and headed towards it. She was surprised to find Liam there when she opened the large french doors. He whirled around, looking like he’d been caught, hiding something behind his back.

“Oh,” he said, relaxing. “I thought you were Belle for a moment.” He pulled his hand back out and Emma saw a cigarette held between his fingers. He turned back to face the skyline, leaning on the railing and took a drag. Emma joined him. “Don’t tell my wife, would you? It’s my birthday and only an occasional indulgence.”

“Tell her what?” Emma said, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it, nodding.

They stood in silence for a while, watching the city below them, still alive in the middle of the night. Emma hadn’t spent much time alone with Liam, still didn’t know if he even liked her very much, but she noticed that he was similar to his brother in some way… he had that same kind of calm aura about him. It was harder, more serious and pensive where Killian was relaxed and carefree, but she found herself unwinding, enjoying the calm and the cool air.

“Has Killian told you much about me?” Liam asked, his voice quiet in the still night. She looked up at him a bit confused by the question. He was still looking out ahead, drawing the cigarette to his lips again.

“Not really. I know you were both in the navy together and that you taught him to play guitar. That’s about it.” Liam nodded, a strange, contemplative look crossing his face that Emma couldn’t read.

“Aye,” he said, still not looking at her. “We were. We both left after… after something very bad happened.” Emma wondered if he was going to continue. His brow pulled down and he flicked some of the ash into the darkness below them. “The official term is ‘friendly fire’. Neither of us were alright after that. Killian nearly lost his hand. It was years of physiotherapy before he could play like he used to again. And me… well, I almost didn't… I almost…" he paused and Emma put the pieces together. "Killian found me, saved me.”

He took another drag and his hand was shaking this time. Emma’s heart was racing, with sympathy for Liam, for Killian. She didn’t understand why he was telling her this. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, almost leaving him alone. Killian doesn’t do well alone. That was around when he found Milah.” The catch in her breath must have given her away. “Ah, so you’ve heard about her. Milah helped him. Helped him heal and helped him deal with all the shit I put him through. He loved her more completely than I've ever seen anyone love before.”

Emma felt tears wetting her eyes because she knew. She knew what had happened to Milah. “When she died… Killian, he…” Liam shook his head and Emma tried to put together the timeline in her head, wondering if that was when he’d started drinking. “Well, let’s just say that dashing good looks and musical talent aren’t the only thing the Jones brothers have in common.”

Emma’s tears were slowly making their way down her cheek now as Liam turned to look at her. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved, someone you loved so intensely that it consumed your every waking moment. Neal hadn’t died but she’d never really recovered from losing him, from what happened. It was another reminder of how closely entwined her and Killian’s lives had been. How maybe that was why she felt so drawn to him, felt he understood her like no one really had before.

“I’m not telling you this to worry you or to make you upset, Emma,” Liam said, finally done with his cigarette and putting it out against the railing. “I just want you to understand that Killian loves with his entire being. It’s all consuming and unselfish. And when he loses that love… it breaks him.” She knew his next words before he said them. Knew this was a warning, a supplication. “So… be careful with him. Don’t let him continue to care for you if you can’t return it, if you plan on leaving.”

Emma wanted to deny that anything was going on, but she couldn’t. Not to him, and not to herself anymore either. She’d tried. She’d really tried to keep things simple, to keep him at arm's length. She thought that she could handle it, that it could just be friendship and sex and nothing more. But she should have known that wasn’t possible - not with Killian. He was too kind and too caring and he knew her in a way that excited her and scared her too. He challenged her and she him. He’d wormed his way into her heart somehow, had found a crack in her walls or had scaled the mile high barbed wire she kept around her heart. He’d brought fun and light to her life and shown her how to be vulnerable again without being hurt. She cared about him. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t anymore. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling small and frightened by the revelation and the things Liam had told her. But she also felt hopeful. She nodded at him and he gave her a small, understanding smile. He moved to head back into the room.

“Wait,” Emma said, reaching into her pocket where she knew she still had a pack of gum. She held it out to him. “So Belle doesn’t know.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug and he gave her a small smile, accepting the packet. He took a piece and handed it back to her. He was almost back inside before he paused again, he didn’t turn around as he spoke.

“He’s in the second bedroom. The one on the left.” He walked away, leaving her alone on the balcony. Emma wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure Liam had just given her his blessing.

She didn’t think about it as she headed back into the suite, made her way over to the room where she knew Killian was likely sleeping. She opened the door quietly and paused for a moment. He was asleep, spread out over the covers on his stomach, his face smushed against the pillow and his hair a mess. She smiled a little at the sight of him, for the first time not trying to ignore the little butterflies in her stomach that seeing him always brought. He’d left the blinds open so there was just enough moonlight and light from the skyscrapers for her to make out the shape of his arms and torso, bare and uncovered by the blanket.

She shut the door quietly behind her, kicked off her jeans and socks and left them on the floor. She found a little space on the bed next to him, laughing a little at the fact that he’d splayed himself diagonally across it. She curled up next to him, took a moment to just look at him, appreciate the way the lines of his face were softened in sleep, the way his hair fell over his eyes. She reached out to brush it out of the way, traced his cheek and his jaw with the tips of her fingers.

She couldn’t help herself. She leaned in, pressed her lips to his. He stirred after a moment, seeming to wake slowly and notice her there. At first he was surprised, a small shocked sound leaving him as his hands came up and froze, hovering. But then she felt him relax and he returned her kiss, his arms reaching out to wrap around her, pull her to him.

She hoped, really hoped, that he could understand everything she was feeling, that the way she kissed him, slow and exploratory, and longing, the way he’d kissed her in the closet, was enough to convey the things she couldn’t say, what she couldn't put into words. Because she still didn’t know what they were - still didn’t know exactly what it was that she was feeling. All she knew was that she wanted more and she wanted it with him. She wanted to try.

Killian kissed her carefully, like it was the first time they’d done this, and maybe it was on some level. His lips were slow but purposeful as he pressed them against her own, puling away before dipping back in to kiss her again, his breath hot and heavy and mixing with hers. His hands were still, holding her to him with one on her back and on cupping her face as they lay on their sides, pressed to one another, their legs tangling under the sheet. It was sweet and restrained and meaningful in ways she couldn’t even understand. She'd never been kissed like this before.

She was the one who broke first, overwhelmed by the forgotten emotions that were slowly overcoming her, wanting to explore them, wanting to feel more of them but absolutely terrified of what that would feel like. She rose slowly and pressed him onto his back, moving with him. He didn’t break their kiss, didn’t let it change to the hot, desperate, needy kind she was accustomed to, but she heard the small hitch in his breath as she lay astride him.

They stayed like that for a while, Emma enjoying the feel of him pressed against every inch of her, enjoying the way his hands kept sliding slowly up her back and into her hair. It was almost soothing. She felt safe and comfortable with him here in the dark, surrounded by moonlight and silence apart from the sounds of their breaths.

She rose slowly and pulled her shirt up over her head, Killian’s hands found their way to her hips as she reached behind herself to remove her bra. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. They’d been naked together before, his hands and lips and tongue had touched nearly every part of her. But they were always rushed, always scrambling to reach their high, never taking the time to look. But he was taking his time now.

His eyes raked over her slowly, his lips slightly parted, an expression she couldn’t read on his face, long enough that she felt her cheeks start to flush. He sat up then, pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his again. She was grateful for the distraction. She kept her lips on his, mouths and hands not wandering the way they usually did. There was just the slow stroking of his fingers over her back, tangling in her hair whenever he wanted to tilt her head so that he could kiss her deeper, explore her mouth with his tongue.

She felt the desire building slowly inside of her, felt it simmering, growing and spreading through her rather than raging like it usually did, like it had earlier. She could feel his own desire pressed against her stomach, felt the way his hand tightened in her hair when she rolled her hips against it.

They moved carefully to shed the rest of their clothes and Emma felt Killian’s lips pressing to her shoulder, to the line of her collarbone, and her throat as she settled back into his lap, each one sending warm shivers down her spine. He held her face in his hand, pressed his forehead to hers as she lowered herself down onto him, letting him slide into her, gasping at the stretch and the fullness.

His hand found its way to her hip, guiding her as she rocked slowly against him. Emma had never done this slowly before, had never experienced the way that the heat and the pressure could build gradually and steadily, pleasure increasing and coursing through her constantly rather than just being an end result.

Small, breathy sounds left her whenever he shifted, adjusting the angle or tugging their hips closer together with an arm across her lower back so that he could grind against her most sensitive spot with every drag of him inside her. Her hands found their way to his hair, his face pressed into her neck as he breathed heavily and more and more desperately against her skin. She could feel it, she was nearly there.

She almost didn’t want it to end, wanted to keep feeling this constant, overwhelming burning inside of her as long as she could. She could feel him starting to shake a little beneath her, could feel the tensing in his muscles and she knew he was close too, knew he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” she told him. She didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted to know that this was as intense for him as it was for her - wanted to know that this wasn’t normal, that this was different. He pulled his face from her neck, watching her as she rode him. She rolled her hips against him twice more before his nails dug into her skin and his face twisted in bliss and agony and relief. It didn’t take long for her after that, the sight of him sending heat shooting into every inch of her. One more grind, one more pull and push of him inside her and she was falling, calling out and shuddering in his arms as her back bowed. He held her tightly, both of them allowing each other time to come back down to earth.

His hand found her hair again and he pulled her mouth back to his, this kiss a little more desperate, a little hungrier than the ones before, both of them panting against each other and still shaking from the aftershocks.

When their skin had cooled and their breath had returned to normal, Killian loosened his hold enough for her to be able to climb off of him. She settled on the mattress beside him. He didn’t ask and neither did she. Instead, he just lifted the blanket a little, an invitation, and she slid in against him, curling herself around him and letting herself just be held. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held afterwards. Normally she ran before there was even time to consider it. She didn’t realise until now, until she found herself laying against his chest with his fingers tracing the length of her spine, how much she’d missed it.

Something had changed - with them, yes, but also with her. She didn’t know when or why exactly it had happened, but she didn’t feel scared anymore. It was like with her music. Once she had let herself feel one thing, let herself be okay with being vulnerable, the rest had just fallen into place. She knew it was because of him, knew she’d been ignoring that for far too long now. She didn’t want to fight it anymore.

Killian wasn’t like Neal. She’d never met someone more different from him. It was time she let herself feel something again. Trusted someone, trusted herself to feel something again. He’d proven to her already over and over that he understood her and respected her and cared about her. She was done with doubting him. She curled herself tighter around him, felt him press his smile to her forehead. She closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

#of cars and bars #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #cs au #captain swan au #cs smut #captain swan smut

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danwhobrowses · 4 years

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General Discussion: All Elite Wrestling (AEW) Part 2

This is a part 2 of a recent dump of stuff I’m talking about in regards to AEW, if you want to see my critiques and comments in hindsight about AEW Check it out on part 1 -> Here Part 2 is gonna revolve around the future, immediate and long-term, starting with the upcoming All Out PPV

All Out 2020

Criticisms about the Buy In aside, All Out still looks like a heavily stacked card, which is always a positive. I do worry a little that the Tooth and Nail match’s addition will cut into others’ time so hopefully everyone gets a good amount, but if people criticise some matches for being too short remember that fan demand insisted that the same Swole/Baker match be on the paid card rather than having a lot of time to show it for free. And as much as people criticise AEW’s women, the women’s matches are among the top 5 most anticipated matches on the card, probably only behind the tag title and world title match, isn’t that a great thing? Not to mention that the women’s title match encourages AEW/NWA relations, which really would make wrestling better if wrestlers could be more fluid in their appearances. But anyway, All Out is something I look forward to, so let’s break down some predictions? (if you’re wondering why I’m not just doing this on a podcast or something, my voice is not the dulcet flowing river of articulation my writing would imply to be, I like having time and proofing my words, plus if I talk to much my tongue swells and I stutter, stammer and suck at eye contact) So my thoughts for the full card

Predictions

The Buy In

Casino Battle Royale - Eddie Kingston. While I’d be down for Fénix, Pentagon, Archer or even a new or returning face like PAC to win, I think Kingston is the safe bet. The man talks like liquid and his match with Cody brought a lot of eyes to the product. This will continue and start new hostilities, but don’t expect anyone who has faced Moxley before to win, AEW don’t do title rematches so much.

Private Party vs Dark Order (Silver and Reynolds) - this quickly put-together match is going to Private Party, because Silver and Reynolds are enhancement tag teams still, they can win but they won’t win often. Plus the more Silver loses the more bits he’ll have with Brodie on BTE and those are gold.

Main Card

Tooth and Nail - Britt Baker, I expect the cinematic match to have shenanigans but also protect Baker in the midst of her injury recovery. While Swole has been doing the physical lifting of the feud I think having Britt lose on her return could be the wrong choice in the long run.

Dark Order vs The Nightmare Family - Dark Order, Brodie has elevated the tag team to the point where they are a big faction, and they need the big win for this. Cardona, Sky and the Natural Nightmares can take this loss too, but I’d expect QT or Dustin to take the fall for this. Bonus prediction that Tay Conti will indeed join the Dark Order with Anna Jay, leading to them beating down Brandi and Allie at ringside (setting up a women’s tag feud that’d explain why they were kept on other sides of the Deadly Draw bracket)

The Young Bucks vs Jurassic Express - This one I have Jurassic Express, it may be an upset because the Bucks are still reeling from Hangman’s betrayal, this can also lead to the Bucks being more heelish to accompany a Cleaner Kenny Omega. Keep your eye on Jungle Boy, AEW are still hot on him for good reason, this’ll be a huge scalping for Jurassic Express if they pull it off.

Broken Rules - A tough one, but I’m gonna stick with the Multifarious Matt Hardy. I don’t think he wants to end his career just yet and AEW would be foolish to let him go. Plus technically Sami is 2-0 in this feud, so it won’t hurt Sami too much to win in Hardy’s wheelhouse.

Mimosa Mayhem - Another tough one to put down the middle, I am gonna go with Orange Cassidy though. I think Jericho wants to amend the sloppy finish Cassidy’s win had and this’ll make for good comedy to see Jericho (and maybe Hager) flailing around in Mimosa

Women’s Title - I will be happy with either winning, but my heart says Shida. Mainly because I think Britt is the one who should take it from her, their last match was a banger after all. Rosa won’t look weak though, they may even have Shida challenge for the NWA women’s title down the line.

Tag Titles - FTR. That’s it, that’s all you need to know. Hangman’s head is out of the game and Kenny is becoming the Cleaner, it’s time for this schism to start properly, they’ve held it for about a year as well, it’s time.

World Title (Moxley cannot use Paradigm Shift) - It’s easy to say MJF, he is the home breed future and Moxley has had a long run defeating tougher opponents, but I am thinking that Moxley will retain. This is mainly because the odds are so stacked against him, he’ll eke out a win despite MJF’s trickery. The challenger will look fantastic to prove that he will be champion some day, but not today. Instead I think MJF will be thwarted by miscommunication, and as he hinted at during his tag match with Jurassic Express, will split from Wardlow for his ‘fatal error’. Then we’ll get Moxley vs Kingston which can be just as fantastic.

Looking to the Future So ‘looking to the future’ is not gonna all be direct consequences of All Out, some of it is just stuff I’d like to see happen, not all of it has to and my enjoyment isn’t killed from it, but certain things would make AEW better in my opinion. Business Relations So of course it’d be great to have more working relationships with other brands, AEW is already close to OWE and AAA, getting NWA on board would be a good step to establishing good relationships with ROH as well, maybe even NJPW. On the women’s side it’d be nice if they made more solid ties with Cyberfight - which has DDT Pro, TJPW and NOAH, maybe even Stardom, Sendai Girls, EVE and Ice Ribbon. More relationships would offer wrestlers not working Dynamite or Dark to perhaps represent elsewhere. In this representing it’d be great to see more outside titles being shown, it’s free advertising really. Thunder Rosa will for sure be carrying her NWA Women’s title but wouldn’t it be cool if other brand titles could be carried; Kenny carrying his AAA title with the tag titles, Cardona his Internet title, Lucha Bros their HOG and AAA Tag titles, Big Swole her Phoenix of Rise title, Moxley his NJPW US title (though I expect him to lose to KENTA soon), Rosa’s TJPW International Princess title as well and Yuka Sakazaki’s TJPW Princess of Princess Title. It may be me but seeing these titles does add an air of legitimacy to the competitors, showing how successful they are overseas while promoting other promotions. I’d also like to pitch a ‘Locked Down’ mini show or segment where AEW could show what their international talent is doing, Emi Sakura’s ChocoPro could be a light hearted segment, PAC could do some solid promos and like showing the titles, it’d expose the roster as talented. New Signings Someone just has to do good to have people ask for AEW to sign them, but in some cases it would be cool to sign them up. Of the frequent flyers right now AEW would be mad not to sign Ivelisse and Diamante, and I’ve already expressed my hopes that they sign Will Hobbs, Serpentico, Shawn Dean, Brian Pillman Jr, Kilynn King, Tay Conti, Veda Scott, Nicole Savoy/Lil’ Swole and Pineapple Pete, but it’d also be good business to at least call up Renee Paquette/Good/Young and Mauro Ranallo, even if it is for some guest appearances. Signing the likes of Danhausen, Warhorse, ‘Speedball’ Mike Bailey, Millie McKenzie, Laura Di Matteo, Lana Austin, Jamie Hayter, Chris Brookes, Maki Itoh, Miyu Yamashita, Mirio (if he wants to come back into wrestling) and AR Fox. This being said, this should only ease into the Second Show, where we can expose more of the current roster as well. Speaking of Which. (A Few) New Accolades With a bigger division will require more competition. Not all of them need to be titles but something to be fought for. MJF’s Diamond Ring and Cage’s FTW title can help in that matter, but I think a Trios Accolade would be next in line for AEW. This would open the door for more teams to compete; The Elite, Jurassic Express, Best Friends, SCU, Dark Order, Nightmare Family, Death Triangle etc. would still keep it competitive and open the door for more stories of faction warfare. Since this is only my thoughts I would love to see the tag division be intergender too but I wouldn’t hold my breath on that. If we do move to this though PLEASE use whoever designed the world and tag belt, not the TNT belt. Faction Bolstering AEW are looking at the NJPW formula or big factions going into war or tensions with one another, which is good since it does make for lines to be written in the sand. But I think the factions can just be a little bit bigger in some places, and some are easy to add in already. Conti joins Dark Order for 2 women there, have Ivelisse and Diamante join the Inner Circle so we have full LAX (plus Ivelisse tagged with Sammy in LU), Statlander can pair with Best Friends and renew BTE’s skits of her and Orange Cassidy’s palpable sexual tension, I would also enjoy the thought of TH2 joining with Kip and Penelope just to be a faction of talented arseholes. May be the crass side of me, but I also seem to want Brian Pillman Jr to join the Gunn Club simply so we can have an entrance theme that starts ‘Someone call 911, Pillman’s got a Gunn’, Vickie Guerrero could grow her managing of Nyla to an all women ‘Las Guerreras’ faction maybe with Kilynn King, Shaul Guerrero, Abadon or someone else would be a decent move in my books but an exciting faction I can see clearly is a Moxley faction with Darby Allin and Lance Archer. Imagine having Jake the Snake taking care of all that, oh yes is that the good stuff. Future Feuds We’ll end with talking about some feuds I hope to see down the line too, even if they’re not set up already. I’ve already expressed my want for Kingston vs Moxley but another Kingston feud I see in the making is against PAC, Kingston is the man with the plan but PAC will want his Death Triangle buddies back. Speaking of, Moxley could use some bangers with Fenix and Pentagon, both are megastars. While the tag division is looking like it’ll lead to FTR vs Bucks, I think the bigger money is FTR vs Bucks vs Hangman and Kenny first, with Kenny having the Elite ties and Hangman with the FTR ties the storytelling would be ridiculously immense. This thought almost made me pick Hangman and Kenny to win at All Out...almost. I would expect a lot of title defenses from Mr. Brodie Lee, particularly from Cardona but I’d love it if Jungle Boy was the one to win it from him, and for JB to face Sammy Guevara, of the 4 Young Prospects of AEW I don’t think Sammy and JB have gone 1-on-1, could be wrong but Sammy usually went for Darby and JB to MJF, Fénix vs JB would be excellent also. Luchasaurus is also due his hoss match with the Butcher, as well as further conflict with Cage and Archer Also I’d like Shida vs Conti, both are very martial arts-like in their wrestling especially the latter so it would be a good physical match. But yeah, that’s out of my system for now, we’ve talked some good, some bad and some middle, don’t think it matters to anyone but I’ve said my piece Bring on All Out!

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years

Text

The Breakdown Ch2

genre: supernatural gay ghost story

rated: M

words: 4.2K

summary: What do you get when you combine an urban legend turned real, a psychic hick, and bunch of ghost hunting Yankees? A bad time.

All Kevin Lampton wants to do with his summer is stop The Lady in White from killing anymore road trippers in the middle of nowhere Kentucky. Unfortunately, a group of ghost hunters looking for answers makes his job a lot more complicated.

Chapters: One, Two

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89 More Days

The sun was slowly leaking in through plastic blinds and striping the thin motel carpet with light and half the single bed in the center of the room. It was bare and rustic and cleaned with something quietly made of bleach and something more than bleach. Kevin flopped down on the bed without looking and reminded himself he had homework, milk to throw out, nails to cut, and a haircut to get.

It was sometime in the morning, a summer morning that didn’t need any definition or permission to exist. A time undomesticated by human concepts of time, it was just early and would be early for a while.

Kevin had homework to do.

He fell dreamlessly into deep musty sleep and didn’t wake again for 8 hours.

It was evening again when he blinked into consciousness, groaning and reaching for a half-filled water bottle and his laptop. He rolled onto his back and traced the ‘K’ on the ceiling with his eyes, written in cracks and imagination. He did the math in his head: he’d have approximately five hours of “Kevin-Time” now.

He indulged in several more moments of moping before stacking himself upright like a new game of jenga and unfolding. He forced himself to the shower, letting the lukewarm water work its way into his clenched muscles.

He closed his eyes, but not for long. There were hands in there, hands and eyes and a pale bruised gaze.

He sighed from deep inside himself and staggered to wipe the sleep out of his eyes and stand in front of the mirror. Kevin Lampton was lean, not tall, but the leanness gave the impression of at least a couple more inches of height.

He was springy in the way of wound-up corkscrews, sunburnt in an offhand way and long in a compact sort of way. He had a long face, almond-shaped, and a sloping jawline that was the opposite of the Hollywood box; those were his father’s features: soft and bordering on strange.

His nose was his own but only by way of being small and aligned with his ears.

His eyes were not his own, suspicious things with long dusty eyelashes and shifty movements, always breaking and starting and breaking again.

His teeth belonged to no one and he was lucky they weren’t more crooked, but they still overlapped here and there enough to dispel any wide smiles on his part in school pictures. His hair was the color of damp sand, not yellow, but a grainy brown that was lost to him in the way sand was. It was too long right now. It crept down his neck and hung over his eyes in wavy stiff tufts.

He’d have to get that taken care of, especially before class started again at the end of August. He sighed, August.

He was ready for August.

He gave himself another push and dug out his busted Lenovo computer and a Snickers bar from the back pocket of his other pair of pants. Four and a half hours.

He got to work and munched quietly.

89 more days on Sumpter Road, six more semesters of school, five if he got his shit together, one year at an internship, two years as any sort of underling and then… time spread out before him in a red jagged roadmap and he traced it with his eyes unblinkingly.

He looked back down at his online econ homework and typed as quickly as he could without his laptop limply falling backward in it’s continual over dramatic death throes. Bastard.

Four more hours.

A family pulled into the motel parking lot and he heard a shower turn on from somewhere beside him and rancorous yelling from somewhere above him. He imagined himself in a woody green forest, throwing up thick bark and leafy branches so the tiny waves didn’t hit from either location.

Someone was angry. Someone was having a very successful journey of self-exploration in a grungy motel shower. Kevin wasn’t really interested in either and frowned until the forest grew roots and blocked everything out.

The sun sank down in a bloody red bath outside and Kevin stuffed his pockets with more purified rock salt and packets of lamb's blood. He slipped his expression into something more than “tired and constantly terrified” for his cars sake and went out the door.

89 more monotonous days of trying to not let strangers die on a haunted road.

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

Kevin expected three things: that the elastic of his lucky boxers was probably going to snap soon. He was going to graduate college with full marks or die trying. He was going to meet a lot of strangers on Sumpter Road and then never see them again.

Some of the strangers may or may not piss themselves and it was his job to both stop them from being murdered and graciously look away from the aforementioned soiled pants.

He drove fifteen minutes from the highway motel back toward his night watch. His phone buzzed five times before he flipped it open.

“Hello?” He answered flatly, he was good at flat, he had a lot of practice.

“Kevin, me boy,” A smiling voice addressed him, Kevin glanced at the car visor and back down. “What do you want me to do with your shit?” Kevin twisted his mouth to the side, “Can I get someone to pick it up? I can get someone.” He lied easily and panicked quietly.

“Sure, sure,” Stevie said carelessly, “but you sure you don’t want us to keep it here? It’s only 3 months dude, don’t make us get a new roommate for next semester, I can already tell the Freshman are gonna fucking suck.” Kevin breathed out easily, “I’ll figure something out.” He said, which wasn’t really an answer. “Can’t do the summer though, I’ll get someone to get my things soon.” The ‘someone’ was whoever he could bribe to drive his few personal items from Lexington to his dad’s place in Frankfort.

“God, dude, please tell me you’re at least on some sort of vacation. Like, with a mimosa, a beach, and a girlfriend that isn’t your damn right hand.” Stevie tossed something across the room with a tin sound and gentle crash. Kevin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, she’s a real livewire, way more hands than me.” He said dryly. In fact, she had three more hands than him, five, six, seven sometimes.

“Whatever man, I’m telling you one of these days you’re gonna pop with that stick shoved so far up your stress hole that not eve-” Kevin paused, his eyes went wide, he approached the part of Sumpter road just outside of Reginald. “I have to call you back Stevie.” He cut off whatever new romantic metaphor his roommate was going to plunge into. “Somethings come up.”

“Fine, fine, avoid my damn point. But yeah, come get your shit.” “See you.” Stevie Johnson was a “friend,” but Kevin did not have friends that he couldn’t immediately hang up on. He hung up.

Kevin’s knuckles bleached on the steering wheel; the crickets chorused mockingly around him as he slowed down. The last bits of sun reflected, shiny and angry against the side of something very big and very black. A sore thumb in the dust, the type that wasn’t so much a bruise itself in this place but something about to bruise everything else.

Kevin’s nostrils flared; he wasn’t the type of psychic that could predict the future. He couldn’t pick out numbers from thin air or tell you the description of your true love. He couldn’t sell you your destiny or the identity of your true love for $4.99 a minute.

He considered himself a pretty shitty psychic, but even he could tell this didn’t mean anything good. There was a big black van.

A big black van sat in the middle of the road, not off to the side, not in the grass, but on the very center ridge. Kevin narrowed his eyes so hard at it that he expected they might just become slitted peak holes. Officially, Sumpter didn’t have two lanes, but that didn’t mean sitting in the very center of it was not an absolute asshole move.

Kevin slowed to a stop in front of it to point out just how much of an asshole move it was. The windows were tinted completely black, the sides faceless, body high off the ground, and something was blinking green on the dashboard.

No, he swallowed thickly and wished he go back to dealing with that hippy couple who were convinced the ghost was an angel trying to contact them. They were babbling about that right up until the Lady on the Road started strangling them.

He would take the car of flower children smelling of skunk and rosemary over this any day.

He had a stare-off with the big black van and didn’t seem to be winning.

He glanced back at the blinking green light on the dashboard and Kevin parked close enough to recognize it as a black box and he had a feeling a little red arrow was on the other side.

Both the driver and passenger seats were empty, but he could see the occasional movements behind the seats in the back. He knew what this was.

No, Kevin had a sudden sneaking suspicion this was retribution for his last job. He had watched, just watched, in his little visor and bright red shirt as a teenage girl had put ketchup in her milkshake. She put it directly in her milkshake without an ounce of shame. He just stood there and did nothing.

This was what happened to people who didn’t stop crimes, even after saving a considerable number of other drivers from a supernatural death.

He put his forehead on the center of his wheel and sighed, big and gusty and quite frankly one of his more impressive ones.

Maybe he should have expected this. People talked, online forums talked. The devil lived on the “Supernatural and Alien Experiences” reddit boards. Kevin watched the van until the sun succumb to a soft and hematic death on the horizon, and the black box blinked green.

He had found a new least favorite part his self-assigned job.

Kevin finished a burger he bought from a corner shop near his motel and his big gulp filled with shitty coffee he made himself. It tasted like dirt and grit, and he probably deserved that too.

The van looked new.

Kevin took his time checking his pockets, thinking about his homework, his hair, and then getting out of the car. The moon was a low half-coin in the sky, and he couldn’t put this off for any longer.

The night cast long shadows over everything like a paint brush that only knew two colors: silver and grey. Silver light licked up across the grass to the point you forgot they were ever yellow, and Kevin swore he saw more imaginary lightning bugs again.

A rusted white shack sat in the difference with small bent trees dotting the area around them; Kevin put his hands in his back-pockets and approached the big black van. His stomach sank as he saw his own reflection in the shiny surface.

His tank top was now upgraded to grey one instead of white, but his skin was still ruddy with summer heat and expression less than authoritative, mouth pinched and jawline obstinately soft. Throwing lambs blood was easier than this.

He trained his expression into something unflinching and private. He knocked on the side of the slide door with his knuckles and roved his brain for appropriate accompanying sentences. A stillness followed and he knocked again.

“Jesus,” a breathy voice said from within, “is that her?” The van shifted slightly, the sound of footsteps on metal, “Ghosts don’t knock.” Answered a much less breathy voice.

Kevin inhaled deeply, “Can I have a talk with you folks?” His voice sounded small and flat against the flat landscape.

Another thoughtful pause followed.

“Do ghosts usually ask to be let in?” “Smart ones do.” Kevin blew air out of his nose, “I’m not a ghost.” “That’s exactly what a ghost wo-” “Shut up Collie.” The door slid open and a blast of cool air rolled out and Kevin blinked into it for a moment. He looked up from two brown men’s oxford’s and confirmed his own worst fears.

There was a whole slew of wires and blinking lights and screens on the inside of the van. Electronics were stacked and piled and obviously not part of an FBI headquarters- or if it was FBI then the government was in far more trouble than anyone suspected.

Three people were inside. A girl was cross legged, another was stooped over a monitor, and one young man hung over Kevin like a loose bent tree. The whole group was dressed in black t-shirts and black pants, leather belts and heavy boots, a match set. Some sort of massive green goggles held one of the girl’s curly hair back and the young man had thick sunglasses with a similar green sheen to them. At night.

Kevin ran a hand through his hair and tried not to yank it, “Don’t mean to intrude.” He began, just as his grandma would have liked. “But I thought I should pay you a visit.” The three ghost-hunters exchanged a long look between them. The two young women had strikingly similar features, tan skin and darker brown hair tied up in wavy buns. They were both on the short side and had mouse-like noses in Kevin’s opinion.

Their eyes were similarly bright and curious, sisters? He didn’t have time to place it.

Kevin was trying not to look directly at the young man in his terrible oxfords above him.

“Well,” the man, boy? spoke first, breaking the silence, “We were just debating on the same thing when we saw you.” Kevin raised his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“That’s you, right man?” The guy pointed to his tiny hatchback and it somehow felt like a slight.

Kevin forced himself to look up, “Yeah.” The young man was broad-shouldered and annoyingly upright, the type of upright money could buy. He had a stretching expanse of neck, square jaw, and his face was easy in all regards. Roman straight nose, mouth that was far too satisfied with itself, and diamond shaped features.

His hair was carefully curled at the top, a whip cream swirl on a professionally made cafe drink, brown and thick and very obviously never exposed to shampoo that stripped the roots.

Kevin employed a very small and very squiggly frown. The young man smiled, his teeth were straight, boxy, and streak-less, also the type money could buy. “Yeah, you should be careful,” he spoke with a flattened accentless-accent, not from here but from anywhere at all. “This road is haunted.” Kevin refused the temptation to roll his eyes. He cleared his throat instead and began carefully, briefly debating if he should shave off his local accent or soak his vowels in it like making backwoods rum pudding.

“Reckon everyone should stay away from it then,” he said pointedly, “must be dangerous.” He decided on rum pudding. The young man regarded Kevin through green-tinted glasses, unpolite and clearly not playing this game. He smiled with wicked delight, “Who are you?” It was asked in the way someone confirms a surprise purchase or family secret from a gossipy aunt. Unsurprised and yet ever so pleased about it.

Kevin took a deep breath and refused to duck down or look away, “Nobody. Just thought I should warn you as out-of-towners.”

The young man took the time to squat, a quick and accusatory movement. “And what are you doing here, Nobody Man?” He was poking at something and Kevin thought a bit of lamb’s blood on his cheeks might improve his very smug appearance.

“Woah, woah, have you seen anything?” One of the girls asked, but the young man was still leering over him in a way that made him much more of a priority.

“Trying to stop anyone from getting hurt,” he said truthfully, “You should get out of here before,” he coughed into his hand, “Anything.” He didn’t need to give them any hints. The young man’s smile widened like a length of rope a magician kept pulling out of his sleeve. There just seemed to be more and more. “My name is Nathan Calvin,” he put his hand out to shake, “Those are the Alvarez sisters.” One of the sisters gave in a slight salute and the other one turned to him with an unhappy eyebrow twitch.

“How would you like to come up here, Nobody Man?” Nathan Calvin’s hand was still dangling in front of him, “You’re letting the cold air out here man and you came over to talk, right?”

The snake was wiggling its way in front of him in a very slick dance that meant very little to him.

Kevin hunched slightly, “I think it would be better if you considered hurrying on,” he gestured up the road, “this isn’t really a populated area. The highway is that way. And the nearest hospital is even further.” He stated without inflection. Nathan Calvin retracted his hand, but he didn’t seem any less pleased. “Come on up, come chat with us.” He boomed, “I’ll make it worth your while.” Kevin shoved his hand through his hair again, tired of this. “This isn’t the type of ghost you want to hunt.” You’re making my job harder.

Nathan cheered, “Somebody knows things!” He sang with a laugh, “what about some beer for your troubles? Money? Heck, Diana might give you kiss.” “That would take more beer than even you can afford Nathan.” Diana, the sharp-looking sister, said without looking up.

“Alright,” he chuckled, “no kisses, but I don’t think that’s what you’re here for anyway.” Kevin elegantly rolled his eyes this time, “If I talk to you will you leave?” Nathan Calvin just kept smiling. Kevin closed his eyes for a moment and then slipped his phone out to look at the time, 10:10.

“You have thirty minutes.” He climbed into the stupid shiny black van, “And then I’m escorting you out of here.”

Idiots.

They move aside and close the door behind him.

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

Belly of the Beast

Kevin was regularly uncomfortable- it was more of the jacket he wore for the possibility of rain and forgot to take off. His discomfort spiked as the light of the summer moon cut off as they shut the door, a pulled plug plunging him into a cavern of beeps and blinking things.

The sisters were curious, the boy was anticipatory, none of them were afraid in the slightest. Idiots.

Nathan Calvin took a seat cross-legged next to one of the sisters and patted the floor of the van in invitation. “Tell me your thoughts!” He yelled far too loudly in the echoey dark van.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at him, “Ghosts. Danger. Dying.” The boy laughed in answer. “Somebody take notes ladies.” One of the sisters, the one with the goggles looked up. “Have you seen her kill anyone?” Kevin’s frown became a tightening black hole on his face. Nathan put a hand up, “Hey now Collie,” he stopped her, “Let’s start with the small stuff.” He tilted his chin up, “Has she ever tried to kill you?” Collie, the goggles sister, was taking notes now. “No.” Kevin said truthfully, “But she will go after you,” he looked up at the ceiling, “It’s harder the more people there are.” Idiots.

Kevin discerned the groups feelings, not the fresh ones, but the dangling roots that burrowed deep and colored their every movement. There was a shimmering veil of glittering silver and gold guarding them. It was thick and glorious, their mothers had no doubt swaddled them in it from birth and let them walk out into the world armored, invincible, and foolish. It was the type money could buy. Nathan Calvin threw his arms in the arm, “Elaborate!” He was enjoying himself like a polo-shirted boy at a private swimming pool that was already two margarita's in.

“You’re making my job harder.” Kevin only had so much room in himself for elusiveness, “I’m trying to help, what will it take to leave this road, money? Beer?” He turned Nathan’s words on him brashly, “I’m sure we could find someone to kiss you.” Nathan Calvin became somehow more delighted.

The other sister, goggle-less, tilted her chin up proudly, “We’re prepared,” she said simply, “Though this is a nice confirmation that she’s really here.” Alright, well maybe it’s time to leave them to their fate, he could use some more sleep and less animal blood on his hands. Haircut, milk, homework.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let the fantasy wash over him- the one where he left here and sank into a nice long nap. Then he opened his eyes again, “Tell you what,” he spread out his own smile, more brittle, less careless, but fireproof all the same. “I’ll tell you everything I know, we could do it over a burger, there’s a 24-hour diner at least fifteen minutes away.” It was more like thirty, but they didn’t need to know that.

Nathan Calvin drenched his smile in lighter fluid, “When does she usually show up?”

Kevin clenched his hands by his side and narrowed his eyes, “When your guard is down.” “Our guard won’t be down,” said the stony-faced sister.

“We could let it down,” Nathan Calvin contributed and for all of his easy smiles he was very difficult.

Kevin blew air out of his nose, “Fine.” He sat down heavily on the floor, “Damn yankees.” He muttered that last part to himself. Nathan leaned back, “you’re local then, right?” “Do you like, protect this road?” Collie asked quickly. “You’re not dead, right?” “We’d know if he was dead.” “Speak for yourself,” Collie waved a hand dismissively at her sister.

“How’d you find her?” Nathan asked next.

“And what should we expect?” The other Alvarez sister wasn’t looking directly at him, but she was looking all around the van anyway, alert. Alert was something at least.

Kevin waved a hand in front of his face; they were lucky Kevin didn’t only save people that he liked. Kevin growled, “I’m sure she’ll be here and answer your questions.” “Does she talk?” The goggles sister, Collie, buzzed. She had a heart-shaped face, soft round cheeks, and an exceptionally soft mouth; Kevin looked away. “That would be perfect.”

“No, no talking. And I’m Kevin,” he finally said. “Who are you?”

“She doesn’t talk?” The alert sister noted.

“What else does she do?” “Tries to murder you,” Kevin responded tartly.

Nathan shifted, putting his arms on his cross knees and leaning forward, “but not you.” Kevin looked up at the ceiling, “look, I don’t know what y’all are doing here but-” “Isn’t that obvious?” The alert sister said, who he was also now classifying as the ‘Mean Sister.’ “-but this isn’t a joyride,” he finished bitterly, “I don’t want anyone getting hurt on my watch.” He looked down at his phone clock, 10:31. It’s still early, he reminded himself with even breaths. “On your watch?” Nathan repeated his words with relish, “God, look at this Diana,” he looked back to Alert Mean sister, Diana. “And Misty said this would be a bust.” He laughed.

Collie crawled closer to Kevin, “What’s up then? Are you not a ghost hunter too? You’re just like, a grumpy guy on this road?” Kevin pinched his brow together, “No.” He said ruefully, “I’m not a ghost hunter.” Nathan stretched his long neck back, “This is going to be fucking amazing. Anything on the instruments, Di?” Diana checked the instruments, she rose one eyebrow and shook her head curtly.

“Do you want to die?” Kevin burst out, sitting up straight and trying to hold their leader’s gaze through his tinted sunglasses.

Nathan chuckled, “Tell me,” he clucked, “What do you do with this ghost then, Nobody Man?” Kevin groaned, he felt like he was having several conversations at once and no conversations at all. “Kevin.” Was all he said, a stony tone that hung in the air long enough to settle into burnt quiet.

“Well, I’m Colleen Alvarez. You can call me Collie,” Collie broke the silence, “That’s my sister Diana.” “Older,” Diana added as if to explain something. “Right, I’m Nathan and you can call me Nathan.”

“I know. You said,” Kevin glared at all of them, “and have you all ever met a ghost before, ghost hunters?” Nathan and the Alvarez sisters all exchanged a poignant look. And then something started beeping.

Diana turned on her heel, “The EMF is picking up on something.”

“Woah!” Collie chirped as well. “The digital thermometer is shitting itself.” The temperature in the van rapidly sank.

Kevin ignored them and checked his clock, 10:37, she was early, but ghosts were rarely reliable. “Shit.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a growl rumbled through the small space like a rolling thunder storm.

Here she came.

<===== Previous Chapter Next Chapter =====>

————–

Hey! Being a writer is a tough business and I could use some help so if you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or subscribing to my website or patreon

#ghost story #supernatural story #mlm #urban fantasy #original story #my work #original novel #the breakdown #LBTQ fiction

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omgjasminesimone · 5 years

Text

Homecoming Part 3

Bryce x MC

Previous Part: Part 2

Next Part: Part 4

Summary: Bryce and Casey attend his sister’s bachelorette party

Word Count: ~3000

Author’s Note: As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next parts!

“Ughh.” Bryce mutters as he wakes up, head pounding from his hangover.

After leaving family brunch the day before, all he could think about was how badly he needed a drink. (Not a mimosa though, that would just remind him of his alcoholic mother.) But he had promised Casey he’d teach her how to surf, so they did that first. Later in the night, they met up with the high school friends he was still in contact with for drinks at his favorite Honolulu pub. Back in the day, they didn’t used to card so he’d spent plenty of time there during his teenage years.

Casey fit in seamlessly with his friends, and he enjoyed showing her off. They’d been out very late, had drank quite a lot, to the point where he could almost forget about the brunch disaster.

Bryce is quickly sobering now though. And already dreading the joint bachelorette-bachelor party that they’ll be attending tonight. His mother is hosting at the house, which means it will be an offensive display of wealth. The dress code is black tie, which informs him that it will also be boring.

Bryce rolls over to his side, wrapping at arm around Casey. He kisses the back of her neck, squeezing her gently. “Baby, wake up. Do you still want to go hiking?”

Casey groans, speaking into the pillow. “Too hungover. I feel like I’m dying, amor.”

“Amor?” Bryce repeats, his pronunciation of ‘love’ nowhere near as good as Casey’s.

Casey rolls over to face him. “Now that we’re using the L word, you finally get a term of endearment. All the good Spanish ones are so romantic that I couldn’t use them if you just liked me.”

“All I had to do was tell you that I loved you to finally get my endearment? Well damn, I should have done that months ago.”

Casey laughs, giving him a quick peck.

He’s unsatisfied with such a chaste kiss. He cups her cheeks, pulling her to him and kissing her again. He licks at her lips until she opens her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside.

“Say it again.” He mumbles against her lips when he pulls away. “Roll the r.”

“Amor.” She pronounces, exaggerating the rolled r at the end.

“I love you baby.”

“I love you too, mi amor.”

…

Haku laughs as he surfaces, shaking the chlorinated pool water out of his dark hair.

“Again Uncle Bryce, again!” The boy cries out, swimming back to his uncle.

Bryce grips under Haku’s armpits, hoisting him far into the air once again. He stretches as Haku hits the water with a large splash. His arms are starting to get tired. Haku really does have limitless energy. That’s why Abigail asked him to babysit. Their mother wanted him out of the house as she made preparations for the party, not running around under the hired help’s feet.

Haku smiles as he surfaces, swimming back once again. “Now let’s play Marco Polo!”

“I don’t know little man. The rest of the hotel guests might not like that.” The pool is fairly popular today, and Bryce narrowly dodges a small girl doggy paddling by him.

Haku pouts. “Ok, I’m taking a bathroom break and then we can have a holding our breath competition!”

Haku hurries out of the pool, tugging up his blue swim trunks. “Do you need me to go with you?” Bryce offers.

Haku looks at him incredulously. “No!” He says insistently. “I’m eight!”

Bryce smirks. “My bad, you’re right. You’re a big boy. But don’t run off! Come right back here!”

Haku rolls his eyes, but doesn’t retort.

Bryce’s gaze falls on Casey, who is watching with a smile from the in-pool bar. He swims to her, leaning against the stool next to her. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Casey sips on her non-alcoholic smoothie, returning his flirty gaze. “And what’s that?”

“Something along the lines of…” He pitches his voice up in a mocking imitation of her’s. “Wow, Bryce is so good with him. He’s going to be an amazing dad. Definitely not one of those workaholic doctors who never plays with his kids. Wow, I really want him to father my children.” He leans in closer, delighting in the blush that spreads across her olive skin.

“Even if I had been thinking something like that, the arrogance with which you just said that immediately made my ovaries shrivel up.”

Bryce puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt. “Don’t say that babe.” He drops the act, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her softly. “We’d make such pretty babies. And they’d be smart too.” He breathes against her lips.

Haku returns, cannonballing into the water. Bryce kisses her one more time before pulling away. Haku swims to Casey. “Want to do the breath holding competition with us Casey?” Haku asks.

“Why don’t I be the referee? We have to make sure your uncle doesn’t cheat.” Casey whispers the last part conspiratorially.

“I never cheat. When you’re as talented as I am, you don’t have to. I’ll show you who has the better lung capacity Haku. But after that we have to head back to the room and get ready for your mom’s party.”

…

Bryce takes a deep breath when he stops the car outside his family’s colossal mansion, composing himself. The valet appears, opening the door for him. He nods, handing over the keys. Haku and Casey step out of the car as their doors are opened as well.

“Haku, come here.” Bryce orders.

Haku approaches and Bryce crouches, fixing Haku’s tie since he’d been playing with it during the car ride. He claps his nephew’s shoulder, and Haku grins before running into the house. Bryce turns to Casey, placing a hand on her lower back. She turns to him, gripping his black tie. “This is crooked.” She straightens it, tugging on it to bring his lips down to her’s when she’s done.

The kiss is chaste, because she’s wearing deep red lipstick and doesn’t want to get it all over him. He admires how beautiful she is for a moment. Her black dress is long with a slit running up to her thigh. The deep v neckline exposes a tasteful amount of cleavage. He smirks when he sees she’s checking him out as well. She’s never seen him in a tux before. As good as he looks in his scrubs, he knows he really shines in a tux.

He offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

She grins, gripping his strong bicep. “Let’s.”

They enter the house, and Casey is clearly awed as soon as she glances around the ballroom he leads her to. Hawaii’s richest and most powerful are all in attendance, mingling and networking in the large open space.

“You guys have a ballroom in your house?” Casey asks with disbelief.

“My parents have a ballroom in their house.” He corrects, grabbing some champagne off the tray of a passing waiter.

There is a live band playing, but it’s soft elevator music and no one is dancing. Bryce spots Haku sitting in a chair in the corner, playing a video game on a handheld console. “This is a pretty low key bachelorette party. I was hoping for debauchery. And strippers.” Casey comments.

Bryce smirks, resting his hand on her back, a little lower than is proper. “Is that what you’re into? I can strip for you.”

“Was that another one of your med school side hustles?” She jokes.

“Nah, the bartending and modeling were enough to get me through. But I think I’d be good at stripping. Probably one of my many talents. We can find out when we get back to the hotel tonight.”

Any response Casey might have had is interrupted when Mrs. Lahela spots them from across the room and approaches.

“Bryce, dearest.” She is wearing a black ballroom dress, encrusted with expensive stones. She kisses both of his cheeks in a European style greeting. “And Casey, darling, how wonderful to see you again.” She kisses Casey on both cheeks as well, grinning when she pulls away.

Casey is a little thrown off by the transformation. There is a wine glass in her hand, but Bryce’s mother is just sipping on it casually. Nothing like the lush she met at brunch. “Nice to see you again too.” Casey returns.

“You look wonderful.” Mrs. Lahela compliments.

“Thank you, so do you.” Casey replies.

Mrs. Lahela spots someone over Casey’s shoulder and turns back to her with an apologetic grin. “You must excuse me, I just saw the Governor. Hostess duties call, but do try the escargot! It was very expensive and it’s delicious.”

Bryce scoffs when his mother is out of earshot. “She never drinks heavily in front of other people. You’ll learn soon that nothing is more important to my family than appearances and reputation. She saves the alcoholic you met at brunch just for her immediate family.” He answers her silent question.

Casey squeezes his hand comfortingly. “Well, you heard your mother. Let’s find this escargot.”

They meander through the room, sampling the food the wait staff is carrying around.

“Bryce!” Abigail calls, dragging her fiancé behind her by the hand.

“Ryan.” Bryce greets shortly, nodding at the handsome blonde man.

“Hey Bryce. Good to see you again. It’s been years….I think the last time I saw you was prep school graduation.” Ryan responds.

Bryce doesn’t try to keep the conversation going.

“I’m Casey. This is quite the bachelor party.” Casey interjects to fill the awkward silence.

Ryan smiles at her, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you Casey. I can’t take any credit. Mrs. Lahela – I mean Kate, she insists that I call her Kate now – planned everything.”

As Ryan and Kate talk, Abigail leans in to talk in Bryce’s ear. “Dad wants you to join him in the cigar room.”

Bryce grimaces. The cigar room. That’s never good. “I can’t just leave Casey.”

Abigail shoots him an annoyed look. “She’s a big girl Bryce. She can mingle. Would you just go talk to him so he doesn’t come out here and cause a scene in front of all of my guests?”

Bryce sighs, running a hand through his hair irritably. “Fine.” He turns to Casey, interrupting her conversation with Ryan somewhat rudely, but he really doesn’t like Ryan. Back in prep school, Ryan had been a womanizer, a bully, an elitist who treated the boarding school staff terribly, and just an all-around asshole.

“Baby, I’ve got to go for a few minutes. Will you be okay out here?”

“Of course Bryce. I’m a big girl.”

Abigail smiles. “That’s what I said. Come on Casey, I’m going to introduce you to a few people.”

Bryce reluctantly walks through the hall to the cigar room. He knocks, and waits for his father to say “enter” before opening the door.

Aoloa sits in his favorite red plush chair, very expensive and reminiscent of a throne. Bryce’s older brother Francis sits in a smaller chair beside their father. In addition to his family, some close male family friends are also in the room. They’re all puffing on expensive cigars.

“Bryce, take a seat. Have a cigar.” Aoloa suggests, but it comes off as a demand.

Bryce sits on a couch beside his father’s lawyer, nodding at the older man. “I’ll pass on the cigar. It’s not good for you.” Bryce replies.

Aoloa shrugs. “Suit yourself. They’re Cuba’s finest though, so you’re really missing out.”

“You won’t find a lot of physicians who smoke.” Bryce retorts.

Francis scoffs, and Bryce glares at him. “Something you want to say?”

Francis’ eyes narrow as he regards his little brother. “Yes actually. Ever since you became a doctor you think you’re so much better than us. That the family real estate business is beneath you. Frankly, I find it infuriating.”

“Francis, stop. This is between me and my son.” Aoloa insists.

Francis looks angry, but he defers to Aoloa. As always, playing the faithful little lap dog.

“Bryce, business is booming lately. With Ryan entering the fold, we’ll acquire an exclusive contract with his father, an important developer. We need all the Lahelas involved in the business.”

Bryce’s jaw clenches. They’ve had this conversation before. He’s never wanted in on the family business. He’s always been passionate about surgery. When he admitted this at his prep school graduation dinner, his father had become enraged. Ultimately, he refused to support Bryce financially through college. With his father’s income, Bryce qualified for no financial aid. He had been admitted to Stanford for undergrad, but he couldn’t afford it on his own so he’d taken a scholarship to the University of Hawaii.

He’d been looking forward to getting out of Hawaii. Looking forward to distancing himself from his toxic family. But he’d had to wait until medical school to finally go to Stanford, working his way through since his father still refused to help him.

“I’m about to be a senior resident. I’m the best surgical resident Edenbrook has. This is my dream, and I’ve worked hard for it.”

Aoloa’s eyes narrow. “Your dream? To be so poor that you have to ask your parents for money to buy a house?”

Bryce’s fist clenches. “I knew you would try to hold that over my head. I’m paying you back. I send you money every month. And let’s not forget you’re charging me interest, a much higher interest rate than any bank would charge.”

“No bank would ever give you a loan. You have no idea what it’s like to actually earn something on your own merit. To work hard. I came from nothing, and built all of this. You had every advantage, groomed for this work, and you’re throwing it all away.” Aoloa says with disappointment.

“Well so be it then. Invoice me for whatever I owe you for my upbringing. I’ll work on paying that back too.”

Francis leans back in his chair. “I told you this was a waste of time Dad.”

“Seems like raising him in the first place was a waste of my time.” Aoloa responds cruelly.

Bryce stands, heading for the door. “I’m done here.” He slams the door behind him.

…

Casey and Abigail have migrated from the ballroom to the patio, where heat lamps and twinkling lights have been set up for ambiance.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re out here with me. Don’t you have a lot of friends in there?” Casey asks.

“Those are my parents’ friends. You’ve probably noticed, but my mom likes to throw parties seemingly for other people, but really just to show off her expensive house. Luckily, my actual friends planned a much better bachelorette party last week. There were strippers and penis decorations.”

Casey smiles. “Good. The bachelorette party you deserve.”

Abigail smiles, sipping on a cocktail and regarding Casey. “You know, I really like you. And I like you for Bryce. And this is a huge compliment coming from me because Bryce’s ex Tia is one of my best friends, one of my bridesmaids even. I kind of ship them, but man, you’re making me waiver.” Abigail seems to be a little drunk.

“Thanks, I think.” Casey replies dubiously.

Abigail finishes her cocktail, gesturing for a passing waiter to bring her another. “Bryce is just such a good guy, I always want the absolute best for him. Did he tell you that he let me live in his dorm room when I got pregnant?”

Casey shakes her head no, Bryce definitely didn’t tell her any of that.

“My parents were pissed. Unmarried teenage daughters don’t get pregnant very often in their circles. They said I was ruining the Lahela name. They wanted me to get an abortion.”

The waiter brings the cocktail, and Abigail downs it in one gulp before continuing. “But I loved Kahoni. And I wanted his baby. So they threw me out onto the streets. Kahoni is one of ten kids and lived in a three bedroom house with his whole family, so I couldn’t go to him. Francis had his own condo in Honolulu at the time, but he told me to get lost. He’s an asshole. But Bryce was living in a dorm at the University of Hawaii and he moved me in no questions asked. He even gave me his bed. He slept in a sleeping bag on his floor for the rest of the semester. I felt really bad about that, worried he was going to mess his grades up since he wasn’t getting a good night’s sleep.”

Abigail’s eyes well up with tears. “He’s just such a good guy Casey. He was the first one to hold Haku, you know. Kahoni had a car accident rushing to the hospital when I went into labor, so it was just me and Bryce. And he also helped me and Kahoni pay for our own place afterwards, for almost a year until Kahoni finally got a decent job.”

Casey takes Abigail’s hand, squeezing it to comfort the younger woman. “What happened with Kahoni?’ Casey asks.

“Love doesn’t pay the bills. I thought he was going to get it together eventually, be the man that I needed. But he never fully stepped up, not the way I wanted him to. Kahoni says I’m spoiled, that I expect too much. But my parents softened a little bit after Haku was born. They never liked Kahoni and told me I could come home if I left him. So two years ago I did.”

“Well, at least you’re happy now with Ryan.” Casey says.

Abigail smiles sadly. “Happy enough anyway.”

Bryce suddenly appears, making a beeline for her. “Casey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Let’s get out of here. I can’t be here a second longer.”

He sounds so insistent she finds herself immediately getting to her feet.

Abigail laughs humorlessly. “That bad huh?” She asks softly. She stands as well. “Thanks for coming big brother.” She hugs him tightly. “See you tomorrow bright and early for the rehearsal!” She chimes when she releases him.

“Wait, rehearsal? Why? I’m not in the wedding party.” Bryce questions.

Abigail looks surprised. “Of course you are. I made Ryan make you a groomsman.”

…

Taglist: @octobereighth @sibella-plays-choices @hazah @akrenich @lovehugsandcandy @professorortegasstudent @regina-and-happiness @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @lizeboredom @desiree-0816 @hellooliviaolivia @dreaming-of-movies @friedherringclodthing @weaving-in-words @fairydustandsarcasm @goldenjellyfish12 @pessimystic-fangirl @mimikoasahina

#open heart #bryce x mc #bryce lahela x mc #choices fanfiction #choices #playchoices

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fulcrumahsokaamidala · 5 years

Text

Saturday Spectacular #13

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

Dark Beauty by @oliversmuse | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Meet Dr. Oliver Queen, local psychiatrist who specializes in PTSD due to his own experiences. He has finally settled into a normal life and his practice is going well. Then one day in walks Felicity Smoak, local mob boss. She is looking to change her ways, to escape the violence and death that has been her reality for far too long. She wants to change but her business keeps dragging her back to that dark place she is trying to escape. Can Dr. Queen see the light inside of her and help her change her ways??

Of Shadows and Monsters by @thatmasquedgirl | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before she became the Vengeance of Starling, Felicity Smoak was Felicity Kuttler. Then she picked up a sword. Snapshots from Felicity's life before she met Oliver. Potential spoilers if you haven't read as far as "Knife in a Gunfight." Rated M for a whole lot of violence and language. Title (and chapter titles) shamelessly taken from lyrics from Halsey's "Control."

AOSFicNet2 Challenge - July - A True Drabble by @lilsciencequeen | Agents of Shield | WIP

Summary: The drabbles (and double and triple drabbles) I wrote for the July AOSFicNet2 Challenge.

You Can’t Afford Him by @quiveringbunny | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity, still strained after returning from Lian Yu following the takedown of Slade Wilson, take on roles that challenge their buried feelings when they go undercover to investigate a dangerous arms dealer. A Macau casino. A luxury suite. Suspenders. Lucky red panties. What could go wrong?

The Hardest Part by @smoaking-greenarrow | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: What if Felicity found out she was pregnant with Lucas after Oliver left and she'd have to raise both of their kids without him. Then Oliver would come back five years later to check on his girls only to find Mia playing with a slightly younger boy who looks exactly like him.

"Time for a story” Drabble Series by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. It started as a drabble series, but developed more and more into a full domectic AU. Although some chapters are still drabble-like, there are longer storylines by now.

flower of the universe (child of mine) by @felicityollies | Arrow | One-Shot

Summary: a very quiet fourth of july with the smoak-queen family.

Providence by @so-caffeinated | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she’ll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move… And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart.

(i want to) save that light by @callistawolf | Arrow | Completed

Summary: What if one little thing changed in the history of Arrow? What if, instead of going to Laurel’s apartment after discovering the extent of Merlyn’s plans for the Glades, Oliver stayed at the foundry and talked to Felicity instead? This series of short vignettes explores some of the ripple-effect changes that could take place throughout the next season as a result of this one, fortuitous change.

an evening walk by @yespleasehawkeyee | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: On a peaceful, summer evening walk, Felicity and Oliver take stock on the most important thing to consider when living with ex-agents and soldiers. Have our neighbors tried to kill us?

gray henleys and fluffy purple socks by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | Oneshot

Summary: Felicity and Oliver have taken to sharing their clothes recently since discovering she’s pregnant. Well - it’s not really sharing. It’s very one-sided and originating from Felicity, and it’s more stealing than anything else.

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a… souvenir. Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

Liquid Courage by @oliversmuse | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity has been upstairs at the bar drinking mimosa's when she decides to go back down to the lair and get her purse to head home for the night. Oliver and Diggle realize that she is tipsy so Oliver decides to take her home. However after Diggle leaves them alone Felicity says and does some things that she would never do sober and Oliver quickly finds that his feelings for his IT girl run deep.

ink stains and dumbbells by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP

Summary: “Hey Dynasties, Oliver here coming at you with another video!”

“Hi guys, welcome back to Ghost Fox Goddess, I am Felicity Smoak.”

When one half of YouTube duo, Queen-Merlyn Dynasty, lands himself in hot water with Principal Wilson due to failing grades, Oliver knows that he needs to step up his game. The principal recommends a tutor but little does Oliver know that she’s also a successful YouTuber. The two of them set out on filming a collab but neither anticipates how popular their videos will be or the insane reaction the sight of the two of them on screen together will gain from the fans.

Mothers know best by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still push for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else.

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by @tangled23works | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This is a collection of scenes I've written but will probably never have the time to publish as part of a larger fic. Sometimes, there are stories that need to be told no matter how short they are. Anyway, each chapter is inspired by a song. Enjoy!

Workouts and Babbles by ElasticMonk | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver comes to the rescue of one cute blonde at his gym just as Felicity stumbles upon one handsome mayor at her gym. They both have something in common, but will it bring them happiness?

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

Intruder Alert? by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity arrives home late to the Smoak-Queen family cabin and for a moment, is scared somebody has broken in. She’s even more shocked to find Mia asleep on the couch with her apparent boyfriend Connor.

Paging Dr. Smoak by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver Queen gets into a car accident, he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak. He had no idea how much a chance meeting would change his life.

The Replacement by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver has named Felicity the new head of Applied Sciences. The only thing standing between Felicity and her new role is finding her replacement as Oliver's Executive Assistant and a pesky peanut allergy.

Did I Forget to Mention That My Dad is a Supervillain? by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Felicity told Oliver about her father, she wasn’t lying per se. She wasn’t completely honest either. It’s just that ‘my dad left us’ sounded better than the truth.

Or: A Series of one shots in which Felicity’s dad is a supervillain and we see how Oliver and the team finds out.

#saturday spectacular fic rec #weekly fic recs

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danyka-fendyr · 5 years

Text

Remind Me: Part 9

Okay, so I know I went on like a 2-week hiatus, but...I’M BACK! AND THIS TIME, I HAVE A DEGREE BABYYYYY!!!! That’s right, I have my associate’s now (and also my high school diploma bc my state lets me get them both at the same time. Basically my Junior and Senior year of high school I took full-time college classes instead of high school classes). So what I’m saying here is that you’re officially reading the work of a college graduate now. I may still be working on my bachelor’s, but you can count on some quality writing from me. I’m pretty sure you all know this by now, but I’m big on crediting the work of authors I’m inspired by. With that said, I’d like to credit the lovely, the beautiful, the astonishingly talented, kind and generous, @dreamwritesimagines. Cue the applause for her.

(A brief trigger warning for anxiety/panic attack, some disassociating, an abusive relationship and just generally disturbing themes in this chapter)

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @binbons-is-theloml

Wordcount: 3124

Chapter Nine: “But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.” -Haruki Murakami

Your dream is confusing. It’s long and detailed, and sometimes things stick out to you when it seems like there is no reason for them to. Not whole people or whole parties or whole places, but the smell of a perfume, the wrinkles in a hand, the glimmer of fresh paint. It’s a bunch of scattered pieces throwing themselves together.

There is only one person that sticks out. Only one. Fragments become pieces and pieces become pictures and the slow curve of a smile and sparkling brown eyes turns into popsicles on the pier and your very first kiss and the first time you ever knew, with devastating, soul-crushing implications, that you were in love.

But that fades away too until it is just one memory. One night, on repeat. Text messages no one got in time, mermaids and mimosas and money. On this constant, glitching loop. Sometimes your brain jumped, but it didn’t jump to skip the most horrifying bits. It jumped to stick a magnifying glass over them, to put them in their own separate loop before it broke and the night began again. And over it all, the screaming. The most horrifying screaming, and it wouldn’t stop.

You don’t think you’ll ever wake up, but eventually, someone shakes you awake. You flinched away from the hands, flinched away from anyone touching you. You might have fallen asleep feeling safe, but you didn’t feel safe now. You did not feel safe, and the screaming was still there. It wouldn’t stop. No matter what you did, it wouldn’t stop, even when you realized you flinched so hard you fell off the bed, even when you reached for your ears to cover them with your hands to try to shut out the sound.

“Skittles, Skittles, Skits.”

Billy’s voice was frantic, but you couldn’t hear it properly over the screaming. The crying, too. Whoever was screaming was also crying.

“Skittles, please. I need you to stop screaming so you can tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

Oh. It’s you screaming. That’s strange.

In fact, what was really strange was that you didn’t feel like you. You felt like someone else, but someone else who didn’t exist. You weren’t you. You weren’t anyone. You were just that feeling of emptiness starting to fill up your chest, starting to replace the pain.

You stopped screaming, and your sobs quieted.

Billy was on his knees in front of you, you noticed dully, and he seemed hesitant to touch you. Good. The one thing you still knew was that you didn’t want anyone to touch you ever again.

“Skittles?”

It was a question, soft and hesitant. You didn’t answer it.

“Skittles, baby, please.” His voice cracked, and so did that carefully constructed nothingness inside of you. You blink at him.

“Can I touch you?”

You shook your head. The heel of your palm was pressing into the cream colored carpets, and you thought about how impractical it was to have white carpets because that was a nice thought to have. That was a safe thought to have.

“Okay. Can you tell me what happened?” He was treating you like a wounded animal.

“I had a nightmare.” Your voice sounded hoarse and low, and your eyes didn’t stop staring at a spot on your wall that’s darkened from some old stain.

“About?”

“I remembered. Everything.” You picked at the carpet with your fingers, pulling at it uselessly. You didn’t sound right. “Mostly that night though. A lot. Over and-”

You stopped yourself because that hurt and now your voice sounded less right than before.

There was a silence like Billy didn’t know what to say about that. Then you realized that it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say. It was that he couldn’t say anything because he was crying. Very softly, tears were dripping down his face and his breath was coming out a little jagged and uneven.

You watched him for a long moment. Watched and felt nothing as the tears slipped down his face, but you wanted to feel something. You wanted to now because maybe it wouldn’t be anger or pain or fear. So you thought about the moment you first realized you were in love with him. Just one kiss on the forehead and you were gone. You realized what it was, the way you wanted Billy all to yourself, and the way you would do anything for him, and the way he was yours, and then you realized you loved him, and he loved girls who were much older and more experienced and cooler. So you had never pursued it, until...

You didn’t think about it before you reached out and wiped away one of his tears. You kissed away the matching one on his other cheek, because you could because he was yours and no one could take that away. No one could take Billy away from you, not if they tried.

“I love you,” you whispered.

That didn’t hurt. The way you loved him, even though it should, didn’t hurt. Not right now.

“I’m so sorry, Skittles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.” His voice cracked again, and he sounded like a broken man.

“It wasn’t your fault.” The shift into his arms is natural, your body fitting there like it was made to, your ear pressed against his heart as you let some of his warmth fill up that empty space inside of you.

“I should have been there. I could have...I could have done something. Anything. I would have...I would have done anything.”

“I know.” You closed your eyes and realized that you had started crying again.

“I’m going to kill him,” Billy whispered.

That startled you. Not that he would kill Aldrich. Remembering everything like you had, that part seemed pretty in character for him. But the anger in his voice...You could only remember hearing him like this once before.

You were trying to put on your foundation, but you kept wincing, which was causing some serious wrinkles. Plus, it was full coverage but not full coverage enough for this. The bruise on your face was...Well, Jason hadn’t hit you gently, let’s just put it that way.

Billy, however, could never know that. He hadn’t meant to do it, anyway. You just made him mad. You always made him so mad. You were stupid to keep doing it.

You had already covered it in concealer, using the stuff like foundation even though it hurt like swear words your mother would never let you use. Now you were going over that with foundation and praying that another layer of concealer would have you looking good as new. The bruise around your mouth you could cover with lipstick, and provided you didn’t wear anything too revealing, you should be good to go. Or you would have been if Billy hadn’t walked into the room at that exact moment.

“Ready to go Skits?” He called, closing your bedroom door behind him.

“Ummm...yeah. Just give me a couple of minutes to finish doing my makeup.”

It was a mistake to tell him you were doing your makeup. He always liked to watch you, critique you like he knew what he was talking about while he made up words for all of the stuff he didn’t know. Which was most of it. He probably would have done more accurate commentary on a Quidditch game than on your makeup.

When you heard his footsteps heading towards the bathroom you tried to speed it up, abandoning the foundation and lunging for your moody purple lipstick, but you weren’t fast enough.

“And how long will the princess take toda-”

Billy stopped dead in the middle of his sentence and you just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights. You bit your lip nervously, in some last ditch effort to hide it or to come up with a plausible excuse as to why it was swollen and purple. Billy just stared at you for a long moment.

“What happened?”

You couldn’t look at him. You had expected him to sound angry, but instead he sounded...soft. Gentle. You had forgotten what that was like. To have someone who loved you not always be so angry with you. To have them want nothing from you except for you to be happy. Safe.

“Nothing,” you blurted out, staring at your sneakers.

“Skittles...” Billy sounded like it genuinely hurt him that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him. He reached out to grab your arm, making you look at him. “Please. Tell me what happened. Is it someone at that fancy boarding school of yours? But I swear if those rich bi-”

“No, Bill,” You interrupted. “I just...I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I’m totally fine. I’ll just finish up my makeup and then we can go.”

“You’re protecting them.” He stared at you like you had grown another head. “You’re protecting whatever piece of scum did this to you.”

“Bill, please-”

“Holy-” A look of realization dawned on his face. “It’s Jason, isn’t it?”

You didn’t say anything. Just went back to staring at your shoes. Up till now, Billy had been pretending not to know his name.

“It is.” There was a pause. “How...how long?”

You couldn’t answer that. You were too busy trying not to cry. You were fine. This happened all the time, and you were fine, and you would just do better not to make him angry. It would be fine.

“Skittles, please. Let me help you. This shouldn’t be happening. You know this shouldn’t be happening.”

Finally, you find the strength to look up at him.

“A month,” You managed to get out, tears rising to your eyes. “I made him angry, and I thought it would just be the one time, but it feels like nothing I do is right, Bill. Every little thing makes him angry now, and he keeps swearing that he’ll make it up to me, and he always does, but...but then he just goes right back to being angry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You were truly crying now, feeling helpless. This was all your fault.

Billy grabbed your face between his hands with more ferocity than you had expected, nearly making you flinch. Except this was Billy, and you had never been afraid of him. You weren’t sure you physically could be. Somebody would have to break something deep down inside of you to make you flinch away from Billy.

“You listen to me, Skittles, and you listen hard. This is not your fault. None of it is. This is on him. He’s just some two-bit piece of crap no better than the gum on the bottom of my shoe, and he never deserved you to begin with, and I don’t know what made him think he could ever lay a hand on you but he’s about to find out what the wrath of Billy Russo tastes like and he’s not gonna like it. No one will ever, ever have any good reason to hurt you. You understand that?”

He didn’t say anything, and you realized he was waiting. Waiting for you to say that yes, you understood. And you thought you did. Because you realized that Billy would have never done this to you. Would have never, ever laid a hand on you, even if someone had threatened him, even if they’d told him they’d kill him. He’d die before he left a mark on you.

“Yes,” You said. “Yes, I understand.”

So gentle you almost didn’t feel it, he kissed your forehead, and something flipped in your stomach and raced up your spine.

“Don’t hurt him Billy, please? I just...I just want to forget about all of this. I don’t want to see him anymore.”

He thought about it for a minute, and you could see the anger burning in his eyes.

“Okay.” He let go of your face, stepping back. “Listen, Skittles, I forgot that I have a date with Stephanie tonight. I would call and cancel, but I did that to her last time. I promise I won’t be gone long though. I’ll try to make this really quick, and then I’ll be right back here with you, alright? And we can watch Dirty Dancing and eat ice cream.”

“Okay.” You tried not to let the disappointment he was leaving show on your face.

As he was headed out the door, you could swear you heard him mumble, “I’m going to kill him.”

It was probably nothing.

“You can’t.” Now you felt it. The fear, the panic, spiking through you. “He’ll hurt you Billy. You can’t go after him.”

“I can, and I will. Don’t worry about me getting hurt, baby. I can take care of myself. You know that.”

“You don’t understand, Billy. He’s powerful. He’s so powerful. You were right, it was stupid of me to go after him the other night with that half-cocked plan. You’re the only reason I’m still alive, probably. Gosh, Bill, you can’t go after him. Promise me you won’t go after him.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Billy, please.” You twisted in his arms, looking up at him, trying to make him see how desperate you really were to stop him from doing this.

Warm brown eyes leveled with you. “Nobody gets to hurt you. Nobody has that right.”

“But what about you? What if you get hurt?”

His answer was immediate. “It doesn’t matter.”

That wiped all the fear out of you and replaced it with a raging wildfire of anger, and you grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you, to see every emotion on your face.

“You’d better damn well believe that it does matter, Billy Russo. You don’t get to just throw your life out on the line every time I shed a tear, you understand that? You’re more important than any of that. Anything that could happen to me, you come first. Do you understand that?”

He didn’t say anything, but you waited. You could be patient. Eventually, he told you what you wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

You leaned your forehead against his, sighing. “Everyone else is expendable. But not us, Bill. Never us.”

He pulled you in, kissing you slowly.

“I can’t just let him walk away, babe. Not after what he did to you.”

“I know.” Some part of you had always known that even when you had the amnesia. “But if we’re going to do this, we do it together, alright? And we’re careful. You can’t get hurt. I don’t want to see that, you got me?”

“I’ve always got you.”

He grinned, arrogant as ever, before giving you a leisurely kiss. It was almost enough to distract you. Almost.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” You demanded when he’s finished kissing you.

His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face.

“I promise,” he said.

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

You smile, reaching behind you to grab a pillow off the bed and lob it at his face. “Nice try Russo.”

“I thought it was pretty good.”

“Why are we still on the floor?” You looked around you, frowning.

“I have no idea. I much prefer having you in bed.”

You rolled your eyes at him. You knew he was only saying it to distract you, to make you laugh, but that didn’t stop it from drawing a smile out of you. Billy scooped you up off the floor, picking you up and setting you back down in bed.

“What time is it?” You asked.

“4 in the morning,” He said, checking his phone for the time.

You groaned, rolling into his open arm when he extended it to you from the other side of the bed.

“So what’s the plan,” You asked, snuggling into him.

“You expect me to have a plan already? It’s been five minutes Skits.” He chuckled, but you didn’t say anything.

“Well, the marriage thing didn’t really work out so well for you. Largely because there was an incredibly handsome man constantly distracting you from the limp noodle that was your fiance, and with a dashing hero like that making you drool over him all the time, how could poor Carton Kool-Aid ever stand a chance?”

You shoved him lightly, snorting. “Now you’re not even trying to be subtle.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you would think I would forget the name of your worst mistake? Or your worst almost mistake, as it were.”

“Carter was nice,” you defended. “Just...not the right guy for me. Probably had something to do with that dashing hero guy.”

“Probably.” Billy looked incredibly smug.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to be in bed with Matt right now.”

Billy choked on his own spit. You laughed so hard you were pretty sure it counted as a full ab workout, rolling around on the bed.

“What? Who else would I think of when you say ‘dashing hero’? I’m surprised you didn’t guess I’ve been fantasizing about him this whole time. You know me so well, Billy.” You were still laughing a little bit.

“You,” he said, “are a smart-Alec who should not be allowed to torture nice goodie two-shoes like Murdock.”

“Mmm, you’re probably right. Guess I’m stuck with you.”

“You’d better bet on it.”

“So anyway, you were talking about my failed marriage,” you said.

“Failed engagement,” he corrected. “And yeah. That didn’t work, but the idea was good. Get into his inner circle. But what if I could do that through a business deal? I could make nice with all his friends, then get in real close with him, then suddenly Alrdich drops off the map because you’re doing whatever your heart pleases with him.”

You thought about it. It...wasn’t a bad plan. Not a bad plan at all, really. And it should keep Billy fairly safe. Safer than going in guns blazing, anyway.

“What if he’s heard of you? What if he knows we’re close?”

“Burn that bridge when we get there, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes, resting your head on his chest. “Can we talk about this more in the morning? I’m tired.”

Billy knew you didn’t just mean that you were sleepy. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Yeah. You know I’d do anything for you, right?” You knew what he really meant, but you would never let him put himself in harm's way for you.

“Everyone else, Bill. Everyone but us.”

“Everyone but us.”

#dreamwritesimagines #once a year #once a year fic #remind me #remind me fic #fanfic #imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo series #billy russo imagine #billy russo au #punisher #punisher au #punisher fic #mcu

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volpalope · 5 years

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What's a great day off look like for you? What's a secret skill that you have? And fav vine?

A good day off is one where I get brunch with some friends, get a bit day drunk on mimosas, play some board games after. Then do some chores, interspersed with some online gaming with my out of town friends. Maybe a nap. Then going out for dancing and drinks 💃🏼

Idk if it’s really a skill, but I can crack a lot of the joints in me. And I used to not be able to crack my neck but I kept just doing it and now I can.

Idk about all time favorite but what’s coming to mind right now is “CHRIS!! Is that a WEED??”. Favorite tiktok is the one with the girl playing the water slide game and doing the accents

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atypical60 · 5 years

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Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me. OK?

Remember. It’s all about MOI!!!!

Anyway, last weekend I flew to Cincinnati for Oona’s Bridal Shower. You saw a sneak peak at my last blog post but I’m gonna elaborate more on the weekend.

And boy was this a fantastic Bridal Brunch!!

As the Mother-of-the-Bride naturally.

Number 4 is the only one Oona has stressed. I did that at her shower when we all introduced ourselves. My sense of humor got the best of me as I introduced myself as “…..as Oona exited my Origin of the World…” immediately, I was pulled aside and warned in a kind way to NOT say anything like that at the wedding. (shhhh–don’t tell but I don’t follow rules!)

I took Friday off from work because I wanted a true three-day weekend. That’s the thing about working in a low-level clerical position—you need permission to get a day off. In my other places of employment, it was much easier to finagle time off as a freebie—trust me. I also worked my schedule out to accommodate leaving early on Thursday afternoon so I could fly from Philly to Cincy and enjoy a few extra hours of fun time.

I also took Friday casual to Thursday! I travel in comfort, but not like a slob! J. Crew and Gabor wigs assisted me! Mother-of-the Bride travel attire!

It’s not how it started out though.

For some reason, either I hit horrific weather or I have a displeasure of a delayed flight whenever I travel. I kid you not. And about 45 minutes before we were to board the plane, an announcement was made that the flight to Cincinnati would be delayed.

Welcome to my jet-sit world. I spend more time waiting than flying! I have to say though, that Delta made every effort and boarded us very quickly when the plane arrived!

Besides having an inner hissy-fit, I dealt with this issue by stress eating not one pretzel, but an additional bucket of pretzel nuggets. Fresh and hot off the press. The carbs were murder on my gut but felt so good going down. I also ate a giant bag of peanut M & M’s. And read trashy magazines.

And an added surprise was that these nuggets of carbs were also drenched in greasy melted butter. I wonder why the scale isn’t giving me nicer numbers!!

The plane finally arrived and this Mother-of-the-Bride landed after ten in the evening to rain! I was two for two. A delay and rain. It was shocking that a snow storm hadn’t hit!

Cincinnati here I come…

To rain and a delayed flight….

Now…upon departing the flight, one would think I ran to the airport exit to see Oona and Sam. No. CVG is a GREAT airport. It’s so clean and spacious so I couldn’t resist dawdling (now we know where my son, Roman, acquired the gift of dawdle…). I came across a cosmetics vending machine! But I didn’t buy anything!

Why couldn’t I find this at Philly airport during the delay?

Then I came across my favorite part of the airport! Them bones!

Some stop to smell the roses. I stop to take photos at airports of skeletal treasure!

But it was great to be back at Oona and Sam’s and playing around with my grand puppy, Gracie.

My boo, Gracie. OMG. She’s so well-behaved..

Oona and Sam are such great doggie parents…I KNOW they will be fantastic human parents!

Friday brought sun and clouds and brisk weather but it didn’t matter. There’s something comforting in knowing that your daughter and her future husband can brew a great cuppa coffee. They make it strong—just the way I love it. And we sat around gabbing before getting ready and heading out to run errands.

The Mr. Coffee is far better than the grandpa Mr. Coffee we have at home.

Even little Gracie was beggin’ for some!

Ahhhhhhhhh…cawfee!!!

Oona had a nail appointment, and since my nails were looking fine, I passed but kept her company while we discussed family and the wedding preparations.

This freakin’ nail salon! It went on for days! I was jealous–but then Oona told me the price of a mani-pedi and I was glad to be living in the Northeast where nail salons are plentiful….and far less expensive!

Next stop was Marshalls –Oona picked some workout clothing (I didn’t –I’m lazy). And I headed for the cosmetics. Glory be to Gawd—I found two great eyeshadow palettes!

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More on these palettes for my next blog post but boy….at $7.99 each, these palettes were a steal!

We did some food shopping—Sam’s birthday was Friday and his family was coming over for dinner. Oona looked pensive as she realized time was of the essence—she had to head back to the airport to pick up her best friend and maid-of-honor, Lauren.

Did I say food shopping? I sent this pic to Bonaparte to validate that Pennsylvania is the worst state in the USA because of the State-run, Mob-type Liquor stores! You can by this at Trader Joes in Cincy!

And that’s where mom comes in—I assured her I could take care of the cake and she could head to the airport for alone time with her bestie!

BTW, this cake is gluten-free, chemical and preservative-free, sugar free, and lower-fat! Oona added Sam’s favorite candy–Reeses Pieces which are NOT lower fat nor sugar free! But it was a tasty Birthday cake!

Friday evening, Sam’s family came over for a birthday celebration. Being with Sam’s family is like being with……………. family!! We all had a great time and I was introduced to a spectacular aperitif/cocktail: The Aperol Spritz! This concoction of Aperol, Prosecco, and Seltzer with a slice of orange is the most refreshing drink I’ve ever downed!

You read it first. Moving forward, the Aperol Spritz will now be called “Mother-of-the-Bride”. There will be an open bar at the wedding but I may smuggle my private makings! There’s only 148 calories in one of these!

I drank a lot of them during the weekend. In fact, as I write this now, I informed the Frenchman that I’ll be stopping at the store for Aperol, Prosecco and seltzer! He is a bit upset that I am forgoing the beloved Kir Royal but the Aperol Spritz has less calories and with the wedding countdown, every calorie counts!

Saturday was a full day!

Let me tell you something. Oona and Lauren spent a long time getting their hair perfectly coifed. Lauren is great with styling and she styled Oona’s hair in perfect beach waves.

I plopped my Jamison wig on—and had extra time to loll around in bed! Oh, the beauty of wigs!

Jamison and Lilly Pulitzer. You can’t go wrong!

The shower/bruncheon was at LouVino, a Southern-inspired restaurant and wine bar downtown Cincinnati. What a great place! The celebration was downstairs in a private room and Oona’s friends, coworkers, future sisters-in-law, mother-in-law and relatives were in attendance.

The upstairs wine bar at LouVino’s. I’m recommending this place to out-of-town guests for Oona’s wedding!

The downstairs room where the brunch was held…

Thanks to Sam’s sisters, the table settings were beautiful..

Mimosas kept us refreshed and hydrated!

Oh yeah, and water (in the background) also kept us hydrated. The food was so great that I never took a pic–I was too busy shoveling the Warm Brussels Salad into my mouth!

We played girlie games. I won Scattergories. But the best game was where Oona had to guess answers to questions that Sam answered in advance. For ever wrong answer, a wad of bubble gum was placed in Oona’s mouth! It was a riot!

It was only natural that I took myself out of the “Guess the Age” game. I’m no cheater!

Miss Oona getting ready for more bubble gum! She actually did a great job. Out of 30 questions, she got 2/3’s correct!

The prize for the Scattergories win..a cute mug and a Starbucks card!!!!!!!!!!!

Some of the gifts. Crate & Barrel is very popular–eh???

Happy little wine glasses…

Happy little Oona!

The baking girl was thrilled to receive mixing bowls. Did I mention I gifted her with a Stainless Kitchen Aid Mixer…just like mine? I swear the baking is genetic!

This. This was on Oona’s wish list and she was so happy to receive this! (Hmmmm maybe she’ll give me her Mr. Coffee machine…)

BFF’s. They’ve been friends since middle-school. Two beauties!

This photo of us was taken after I was crying…

..and this is why. Lauren, Oona’s BFF and Maid of Honor, gifted Sam’s mom and me with embroidered hankies. Both moms were crying because it was just a touching and generous gift! I’m crying again!

I was very happy to be in attendance. Oona didn’t want a shower in Philly simply because she felt that asking my side of the family and her Northeast friends, was asking them to spend too much money—what with the travel to Ohio and the hotel, she wanted to keep expenses down for everyone. You know—I was very proud of her decision. I think I raised a very conscientious young woman!

And the fact Sam’s family has welcomed Oona really made me feel warm and fuzzy inside!

May I present the future Mrs. Butts. Coming from a very competitive family, it pleases me to have my daughter’s future last name be greatness such as this. When/if they have children and their children are in competitive activities, they can hashtag: #MyButtsgonnakickyours or… #Buttsbekickin’

Some after-brunch fun. Isn’t that dress adorable? It’s a Lilly Pulitzer..and those shoes! The daughter has great taste..and she’s gorgeous!

By the time we got back to the house, the rain came and it was time to head to Sam’s mom’s home for a casual, laid back and fun dinner!

And more Aperol Spritzes!

The recipe? Three parts Prosecco, Two parts Aperol, One part (a splash) Seltzer and an orange slice to make it nice!

Sunday morning brought forth a bit of a hangover and the flight back to Philly. Isn’t it funny how when you wish for a delay, the flight is on time?

Gracie was sad to see me go. I was sad to see me go!

Minimal dawdling on the return. There was no delay. WAIT! Does that say Air France? Yeah…but it’s the plane back to Philly…

And despite the timeliness of the flight home, I did manage to get this sweatshirt as a reminder of a great weekend!

I arrived back home Sunday afternoon. When Bonaparte picked me up, I’m not too sure he was happy to see me because he kept mentioning how tired I looked. He was right. I had a bad hangover FOODover, because of all the food I ate.

Yeah. I pretty-much crashed when I arrived home. Funny how I still think I’m in my twenties sometimes!

Do you ever get sad when you leave someplace and someone? I was incredibly sad to leave but after I arrived home and unpacked and got to telling the Frenchman about the weekend, the sadness lifted and I felt really happy. Happy that I was able to enjoy the weekend with my daughter and her future family! And happy to be back sitting next to my husband on the sofa!

And she’s the reason the weekend was a stellar one! My baby is getting married!

More Mother-of-the-Bride Fun! Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me.

#Bridal Showers #Cincinnati #LouVino OTR #Weddings

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