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neonacity · 3 years

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HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him.

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks."

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him.

"How much money do you need?"

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa.

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?"

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup.

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?"

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about."

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink.

"You think you can do it?"

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips.

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal."

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering.

"It depends on the reason."

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said.

"The reason?"

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it."

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to."

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work.

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that."

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter.

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned.

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me?

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour?

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice.

"Jisung?"

"Noona, we need your help."

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin."

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark.

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard.

"Give me the phone."

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening."

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open.

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name.

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood.

"Oh my god."

"Please help us."

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it.

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again.

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features.

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please."

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders.

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me.

"Thank you."

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed.

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing.

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now.

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well.

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions.

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear.

I stared at him for a bit before looking away.

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much."

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk."

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time.

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?"

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze.

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped.

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock.

"A…"

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection."

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help.

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment.

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still.

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No.

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back."

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it."

Please don't leave me.

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips.

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him.

---

Chapter 4

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axoxtxhxh · 3 years

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Forgive Me

Reiner x Fem! Reader Fluff, slightly suggestive Words: 1300

A/N: So I wanted to start writing and I decided I’m just going to do it. This is a random oneshot I thought of.

Reiner sat on the wall looking off into the sunset, Bertoldt behind him doing the same. It’s been several weeks since they revealed who they were and tried to kidnap Eren to take back to Marley. It didn’t matter how much time passed though, he never stopped thinking about Y/N. Her hair, her smile, the way she smelled, his arms fitting perfectly around her waist, they tortured Reiner’s mind constantly. He knew what he was getting into though. Bertoldt had warned him several times, getting involved with someone on Paradis was risky. Not only risky, it was thoughtless. The plan was the same since they joined the scouts and somewhere along the way, he lost focus. Maybe if they hadn’t done so many missions together, or if he avoided her when he felt his feelings develop, there were so many ways he could have stopped it, but he didn’t. He fell in love.

“Maybe we should get ready to call it a night.” Bertoldt proposed.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Reiner stood up and they made their way to their camp, packing up their cups and plates from dinner.

They had quite a bit of scaling to do on the wall, but with the 3DM gear they had, it was made much easier. They made a camp just inside the forest, not far from their perch on the wall. They reached the camp just as the sun was completely set and darkness covered the ground.

It wasn’t as if he planned on staying in Paradis or even thought about not returning to Marley. Being with Y/N gave him an escape from the world. She always talked about his ability to do what he wanted in life, not needing to stay a soldier once they found a way to stay safe from the titans. If only she knew the truth, maybe then she would have realized he didn’t have a choice. His fate was decided. He only hoped she could forgive him after it all.

Reiner did a lot of bad things, he knew he wasn’t the greatest guy. Most of the crimes he committed were a necessity. He could deal with those choices he made, but the one choice he could not handle was hurting Y/N. He could still see her face when she watched him transform into his titan. The shocked and betrayed look. He felt it in his gut. He didn’t have any other choice. What was he to do?

He reminded himself of this every day. He didn’t have a choice. He only hoped that one day he would go to her and she could forgive him. They were past the point of him just saying sorry, but maybe with a better explanation than when he left. Just maybe, then she would forgive him.

He set up his blanket on the ground and laid down. Bertoldt falling asleep quickly, Reiner looked up at the night sky. There was no moon tonight so the stars shined so brightly. He thought about what Y/N must be doing now. She was always getting to bed so late. She would come in quietly, changing into her pajamas and crawling in bed with him, pulling him tightly to steal whatever warmth she could from him. He smiled at the thought. How he wished he could feel her arms around him again.

They woke up the next morning to rustling in the trees above them. His eyes still adjusting to the light, he blinked and squinted, but couldn’t make out anything, until a figured dropped from the tree above him, landing right next to him and leaning over his face.

“Did I wake you?” She asked, the voice all too familiar.

“Y/N.” Reiner’s eyes widened and he sat up, reaching for her.

“Whoa! Whoa!” She backed up, giving him her hand to help him stand up.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her, reaching for her hands to hold. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I never wanted—” He looked down, ashamed to look her in the eyes.

“Hey, I understand.” She hooked her hand under his chin and forced him to look at her. She smiled at him which made him smile.

Reiner looked around and saw Bertoldt still sleeping. How was he such a heavy sleeper? Y/N didn’t come alone, she brought a couple of her soldiers with her.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, remembering his original question. “Is this a scouting mission?”

“In a way.” She pulled him over to her and they started walking a little away from the group. “Annie woke up. She told us everything that happened with you guys.” Reiner’s eyes widened. “The mission, Marcel, you guys breaking the wall, joining the scouts. She explained it all. I came to find you because we want to help you.”

“Help us?” Reiner’s eyes started watering. “But what could you—” She shushed him.

“Just get dressed. Let’s get back to base and we can talk more there.” He followed and they took the day riding back to base.

It felt strange, riding back to where they used to be, but everything about the ride was perfect. He sat behind Y/N on her horse, holding her waist and keeping his head resting on her back. The warmth of her body and the scent of her hair left him feeling peaceful.

Once they arrived, it was dinner, but they went straight up to talk to Erwin. They discussed the plan of how to help, but decided tomorrow was best to go over the details. Today they would rest. Back in the mess hall it was like nothing had changed. They laughed and joked with their comrades as they did so many times before. Reiner was happy. He looked at Y/N and smiled, squeezing her hand. She pulled him up and they went upstairs to her room.

“Y/N, I need to apologize to you.” He started as she pulled him to the bed.

“I told you, it’s okay.” She stood in front of him as he sat on the bed.

“No, I need you to know how sorry I am.” He held her hands and looked up at her. “I never want to hurt you. Ever.” She smiled down at him.

“I forgive you, Reiner.” She rubbed her hands in his hair. He closed his eyes and let out a sign, unable to hold in his relief. His chest felt like it would burst. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held his head against her stomach.

“I love you so much.” He held her tighter.

“I love you so much more.”

She continued playing with his hair until he pulled away looking up at her. She leaned down, connecting her lips to his. He felt a chill run over his body. He missed her touch more than she knew. Their lips moved together, Y/N inserting her tongue in his mouth and he hummed at the taste. His hands moved up her body, pulling her onto the bed, straddling him. She reached for the top part of his shirt and he pulled it off, leaning back on the bed. She crawled over him, keeping their lips attached. Her hands moved all over his body as his moved all over hers. He reached under her shirt and she separated their kiss to remove it. He felt the warm skin on her stomach.

SNAP!

A branch snapped and Reiner quickly looked over. Bertoldt was walking from the trees in the darkness.

“Sorry, I had to pee.” He continued to his sleeping spot and went back to bed.

Reiner looked back up at the dark sky, still breathing heavily from his dream. His heart sank into the ground knowing he never spoke to her, he never apologized, and she never forgave him. Bertoldt was already sleeping again and Reiner let himself cry quietly. Was she thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her? Was she even thinking about him at all? He turned over and went back to sleep.

A/N: So I definitely appreciate constructive feedback, but this is my first time posting any sort of writing :/

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collecting-stories · 3 years

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Flowers on the Grave - c. 10 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Everything finally comes to a head.

A/N: So...massive thanks for following this series all the way through to the end. Seriously, means so much to me cause I was so unsure of this when I started it.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ I was on the verge of breaking down when you came around ✞

The phone rang, shrill in your ear, and you felt like a weight had settled on your chest as you waited for someone to answer.

Timothy was talking about the same three things that he had overwhelmed you with at the Wreck. Getting his pilot’s license, becoming a missionary, and his strength in the Lord. When he said it you could almost feel your father’s gaze burning into you, your own strength barely a register on the scale.

He had questioned you further the night before, after he had sent everyone home you had spent nearly the entire night sitting at the kitchen table with the two of them, demanding a repentance for your sins as you tried not to tell them everything that you had done to betray them. If they knew half of it...if only there were nunneries for Baptists. Your eyes had stayed on the clock, watching minutes turn to hours and knowing that JJ was waiting for you. That you wouldn’t make it.

Now you sat in the living room, watching those same minutes tick away, an escape plan the only thing on your mind as you listened to all the voices around you mingling. All you could imagine was yourself with JJ in Charleston and you desperately wanted to be there, wished you could transport yourself there.

You excused yourself from the couch beside Timothy, walking into the kitchen under the guise of needing something to drink. In actuality you just needed the moment to breathe. Everyone in the living room seemed fixated on the impending nuptials, regardless of the fact that Timothy had yet to propose to you. It didn’t seem to bother anyone, Timothy’s mom and your’s gushing about what sort of dress you would wear and your flowers. Every second spent with them felt like you were sinking further beneath the waves, unable to get your bearings, you imagined yourself drowning in all of this.

You glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching you before sneaking out the kitchen door, pulling it closed behind you so that it didn’t make any noise. The back patio had been cleaned off and all the kids were around the front of the house, playing between the church and the front porch.

“Ace,” the familiar voice came from your left and you almost burst into tears at the sight of JJ stepping onto the patio, careful to stay out of view of the window.

“JJ...I-”

“It’s okay,” he said, cutting you off. His eyes looked bloodshot, more so than when he smoked too much and you realized that he looked like he had been crying. “It’s okay...I know your family is inside and all, I just wanted to stop by to, uh, to see you...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“What, I don’t-”

“I understand, I swear. I knew that you might not come, that wasn’t like...I get it.” He insisted.

“No, JJ...” you shook your head. Careful not to draw attention to yourself as you slipped passed the window to meet him at the edge of the patio, you placed your hands on either side of his face, heartbreaking at the way he turned his eyes away, “my parents found your vape pen in the house. I...my dad like freaked out on me, I’ve never seen him like that. I couldn’t come to see you, I wanted to, so badly...I still want to.” You swore. “I love you.”

The words processed a little slowly, giving you the opportunity to watch JJ’s face as realisation sunk in. You hadn’t left him waiting at the Phantom because you were choosing what your family wanted, you hadn’t been able to get there. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I swear. I told you I was coming and I was. I just-”

“Hey, it’s alright, I get it.” He promised. He knew how dependent on your family you felt. How dependent they made you feel.

“Is it too late?” You asked, looking back to the screen door as if someone would walk through. The bruise on your arm was still there, stinging under the sleeve of your dress but somehow it didn’t feel as harsh as before, as much like a shackle as it had last night, “is it too late to leave?”

JJ looked surprised, “you still want to?”

“Yes. But we have to go now.” You knew there was no way you could go back inside that house.

The renewed sense of optimism that gripped JJ was not without understanding that your window oy opportunity was limited. Leave now and you still had the chance to make it to Charleston before dark, wait and there was a chance someone would step outside and see you.

“Okay.”

Your absence was becoming increasingly noticeable until finally your mother stood up, promising that she would be back in just a moment, she needed to find you first. “She has a tendency to wander off, probably playing with the children.” She explained as she walked into the kitchen, positive that she had just heard the screen door creak shut.

Stepping out onto the porch, she looked quickly around the yard, a survey of the area within the trees, looking for you by the clothesline or the church or the old swings that had been set up nearly five children ago. You weren’t there though, the yard was empty. She pushed the door open again, walking back into the kitchen and catching sight of the refrigerator. A note, scrawled on the grocery pad that was kept by the door, had been tacked to the front of the fridge along with a delicate gold cross hanging from a chain.

Mom + Dad,

Sorry, I told dad I wouldn’t marry Timmy and I meant it. Call you when I can.

Ace

Your mother screamed so loud it was a wonder that you didn’t hear it, running through the trees with JJ, your hand in his. Once the woods parted to make way for the closest drive-way you saw JJ’s dirt bike. There were plenty of times that you had almost taken him up on the offer of riding on the back of the bike with him but you always backed out at the last second, far too terrified of falling off or getting hurt. Today you hardly thought twice of it, climbing on the rungs and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You leaned forward, kissing JJ’s cheek before he kicked up the stand and took off, “I love you.”

“Love you.” JJ replied quickly before taking off, grinning at the feeling of your grip on his shoulders tightening.

The middle of the afternoon was far different from midnight and Heyward’s was open, Pope and Kiara coming out when they heard the sound of the dirt bike, as if they’d been waiting. The moment you each dismounted Kiara was pulling you into a hug, swearing that she ‘knew it’, knew you weren’t standing him up. She passed you over to Pope, who hugged you and whispered in your ear that he was glad you came, knowing without having to tell you that you understood just how much this relationship meant to JJ.

“Come on,” JJ grabbed your hand, pulling you away from them. “We gotta go.”

“You can take ten seconds to give me a hug JJ,” Kiara said, already pulling him into a hug.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, hugging her back and lifting her a little off the ground before letting her go, “we need to leave, I love you guys, I’ll see ya soon.”

“See ya man,” Pope hugged him, “call us.”

JJ was guiding you away from them again, over to where he had docked the Phantom. He had taken your duffel bag the day before and it was still sitting there under the bench along with his backpack. The last time you had been on a boat with JJ had been out on the Pogue, in the Marsh. This was a lot different, the outlet to the ocean just beyond your vision but getting closer as JJ steered the Phantom. Kiara and Pope shouted their goodbyes from the jetty and you waved, suddenly feeling like that weight that settled on your chest was gone.

“Are you freaking out?” JJ asked, catching your attention.

You got up from the bench, careful as you walked over to him. “No but I'm sure my mom is.” You replied, laughing a little when JJ wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you in front of him, putting you between him and the wheel. You turned your head, tilting back to kiss him.

A police car rushed past Kiara and Pope as they stood outside of Heyward’s, heading in the direction of the church and your house. When Shoupe pulled in, the yard was quiet. Your siblings and their families were all inside, your oldest sister trying to do damage control with Timothy’s family while your mom and dad stood outside, your mom clutching the letter and the necklace.

The cross was something that your mom had given you on your thirteenth birthday, a symbol of your devotion and love for the Lord, now it was tucked in her hand as she tried not to absolutely fall apart. Timothy’s mother was simply upset that you had seemingly skipped out on her son but your mom was dealing with the reality that you were gone and she had no idea where you would even go.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Shoupe asked, skeptical as he took down your information. You were 18, according to your parents, 18-year-olds didn’t need permission to leave home without telling anyone. So far, he was unconvinced of a crime.

“Hardly an hour ago.” Your mom replied, thrusting the note into his hand, “she left this...I know that boy she was sneaking around with put her up to it.”

“Do you know this boy’s name?” he asked, looking over the vague note you had left.

“JJ Maybank.” Your father said.

Shoupe frowned, if there was any name that immediately sparked his interest it was JJ’s. It didn’t matter whether JJ was guilty of something or not, nine times out of ten Shoupe was positive that any misconduct on the island could be traced back to JJ and his friends. “Look, usually in cases like this I would tell you that, your kid is 18, if you haven’t heard from her in 24 hours then I’ll file a missing persons. But I know that Maybank kid...I’ll talk to his friends, see if anyone knows anything. You hear from your daughter, you let me know.”

“Thank you, deputy.” Your father said, his arms around your mom as she continued to cry. You were gone and he wasn’t sure if he was angrier that you had walked out on your family’s expectations of you or that you were embarrassing them in front of a potential future husband. Either way, the thought that something they did contributed to your disappearance never occured to them.

Charleston wasn’t half-way between North Carolina and Florida. There wasn’t anything special about the place and even Pope had asked why JJ didn’t just take the Phantom down to Georgia for a stopover. JJ’s only explanation was that he knew a guy in Charleston and, technically, he did. When Luke had served an 18-month sentence for a petty misdemeanor his cellmate had been an in-the-process-of-reforming drug addict who took himself down to South Carolina to work in a program for recovering addicts. He kept in touch with JJ, making sure that Luke was treating the boy right and JJ always lied through his teeth that everything was great.

“Nothing to worry about.”

But he’d called a few weeks before with an odd favor. One that Luke’s cellmate readily agreed to, no questions asked, but a strange request all the same. “Meet me at the courthouse in Charleston.”

Now you stood outside, scuffing the toe of your converse against the pavement, JJ’s cellphone held in a vice grip against your ear. Independence didn’t exist in your family, at least not for you. You belonged to your father until you belonged to a husband and there was no other way around it. JJ was sitting on the hood of his friend’s car, talking about heading down to Flordia, watching you as you stood a few feet away, fiddling with the strings that tied the dress he’d bought you in Chapel Hill. You’d dug it out of a drawer in your mom’s room and wore it now, a small symbol of freedom.

“Hello?” Your mother’s voice came through the phone, a little grainy.

“Mom?”

Suddenly she was shouting for your father and you could practically hear her switching the phone over to speaker so he could hear you too. His footsteps were heavy in the background and when you were sure he was in earshot you spoke again, not ready to hear whatever bible verse he had earmarked for this very specific occasion.

“I just wanted you to know I’m okay, JJ and I are heading down south. We’ll be staying with a cousin of his until we can get our own place.” You told them, “but we’re safe. Kiara told me you called the police; you can tell them you made a mistake...I left on my own.”

JJ stood up, walking over to where you stood, nodding to you as if silently asking you to put the phone on speaker. You held it away from your ear and tapped the button on the screen, your father’s reprimanding voice pouring through the phone.

“Stop, stop,” your mother insisted, cutting into the conversation with the only thing you knew she cared about. “What am I supposed to tell Timothy’s parents?”

“Tell ‘em she’s already married.” JJ answered for you, winking at you when you smiled. Charleston wasn’t anything special, expect they let you get married the same day you applied for a license and you knew it was the only thing your parents would listen to. When you had told JJ he’d been more than onboard with the idea. Surprisingly okay, eager even.

“What?” Your father practically shouted through the phone. He had sat up the night, waiting for the call you promised them only for it to come through early in the afternoon the next day with this, news that you had married this kid.

“Ace-” your mom seemed like there was something more she wanted to say, something that she couldn’t say with your father hovering beside her.

“I’ll be in touch, love you.” You said, ending the call and realizing, as JJ pulled you into a hug, that you were crying. “I really hate them sometimes but I don’t...want them to hate me.”

“Trust me,” JJ reassured, “I know all about it.”

Your shoes sat abandoned on the small front lawn, socks stuffed inside as you stood a few feet away, ankles deep in a plastic kiddie pool that was slowly filling with hose water. You still had your uniform on, a short sleeved, short-hemmed, yellow waitress dress that buttoned up the front. Balanced on your hip, your arms around her, was JJ’s cousin’s daughter, his niece for the sake of simplifying things. She wore a white bathing suit with rainbow flowers all over it, a frilly skirt around the waist. Her Elmo submarine bobbed in the water as it got higher.

“Look, Daisy,” you cooed, drawing her attention to you and then pointing to the object of your interest. An older model Ford truck pulled into the driveway, JJ behind the wheel. “Whose that?”

“JJ!” Daisy clapped her hands with each syllable, thrilled at the sight of him.

The car door slammed behind him, standing there with his coverall’s tied at his waist, white wife-beater dirty from work. His cousin had gotten him the job at the autobody shop that he’d been promised and JJ was enjoying it more than he thought he would. The smile on his face when he saw you was infectious.

“Where’s Brett?” He asked, looking around the small yard of the trailer. It was nothing terribly special, a double-wide trailer that JJ’s cousin Brett had bought after his girlfriend got pregnant. Now he lent out the room that Daisy had been sleeping in to you and JJ, asking only that you pay for groceries every other week and babysit whenever need be.

“Went to meet April for lunch.” You replied, “you’re early.”

“Don’t act so excited.” He teased, getting close enough that you could kiss him, Daisy reaching out for him and calling his name again. “As soon as I change Dais,” he promised, kissing the baby’s head.

“Kiara called, asked if we’ll be up for Pope’s birthday?” You mentioned, setting Daisy down in the kiddie pool and getting out to shut off the hose. “I said yes.”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded, pausing at the steps as if he wasn’t quite sure what he had intended to do next, finally turning to look back at you as you kneeled down on the outside of the pool in hopes of keeping your uniform clean. “You okay with going back for a weekend?”

“Now that I’ve fallen into like, total debauchery, definitely.” You joked, “my parents probably won’t even recognize me if I don’t, you know, get stuck down by lightening just walking onto the property.”

JJ snorted, “slow your roll there Cheech, you still can’t smoke and you definitely can’t handle your liquor.”

“Go get changed so I can...Brett basically handed me Daisy, threw a shirt on and left. I didn’t even get to change.” You mentioned, pointing to the dress, “I know it’s some weird turn-on for you but I’d like to put a bathing suit on.”

“Hey, I’m happy to oblige,” he called, the screen door clambering behind him as he disappeared into the trailer.

You had tried to imagine a few times, what you would’ve been doing right now if you had stayed in the Outer Banks, if JJ had never asked you out to begin with. Probably packing for Tennessee, signing off on a life-sentence with someone who thought your greatest contribution to his life would be in how many children you could give him and how well you kept his house. Certainly not living in a trailer in a small town, saving dollars in a jar, with a future ahead of you that was as much yours to decide as JJ’s.

“Alright, get your ass in there and change.” JJ said, coming out of the trailer. He’d left the white tank on but changed into an old pair of swim shorts, climbing into the kiddie pool as if it was intended solely for him.

You stood up, brushing grass off your knees and leaning over to kiss JJ one more time, “be right back. Don’t have fun without me.”

“Oh we’re gonna have all the fun!” He called as the door shut behind you.

As you passed the mirror on the door you stopped to look at your reflection. You looked the same as you had when you left for Florida four months ago but there was something there, something so different that you couldn’t recognize yourself sometimes. A good different though, the kind that settled over you like a warm sun in the summer, the kind that blossomed up in your chest and let you know that all these decisions that led to right now had been the right ones.

Taglist: @outrbanks @mendesmaybank @thehomeiknow @minnie-bby @katiaw2 @2kayla64 @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk @goldeng1rl8 @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

Leo x Reader - Oneshot (TMNT 2014/2016)

"Don't forget to close your window (Y/N). One of these days you're gonna catch a serious cold." Your sister made a habit of scolding you about minor things like that. Since it was just the two of you, it made sense that she was a little over protective. So as she got ready to head to her graveyard shift, you just nod.

It's not that you intentionally forgot to close the windows, you just got so lost in the lights that glimmered at night. Sometimes you'd just sit at your desk and stare out at the night sky. It was soothing, and beautiful.

Such a magnificent city, so under appreciated and tarnished by the crime all around it. It was sad for you, reading the headlines. What did bring you comfort was the so-called vigilantes. No one knew who they were, or where they came from. But slowly, they were taking the city back. One thug at a time.

"So cool." Being a teenager didn't allow for much excitement. At least not in your life. The biggest issue in your life right now was probably getting through your finals. But you wondered what it would be like being out there, saving the world. Doing something worthwhile, something that mattered.

"I wish I was that amazing." You head rest on the windowsill, just gazing at the stars.

"I'm sure you're an amazing person." The voice made you shoot up. And from your position on the window, you could only make out a shadow above your head.

"I'm sorry, that was a bit creepy. I don't mean to intrude. You seemed a bit down. " You blinked at the male voice.

"O-Oh! I'm sorry. I really didn't think anyone would be out here so late."

There was an apartment above you, so maybe he was doing the same thing you were. "I should apologize. I'll just leave you to your thoughts."

"W-Wait!" It was a little weird, but you didn't mind. He didn't sound like a bad guy, and he did compliment you. "Y-You don't have to go. I was just rambling to myself. I usually just come out here to think. It's a bit therapeutic. "

"I guess...I do the same thing. It helps, doesn't it? Makes you forget just how much is going on." You smile. He sounded sort of mature.

"Yeah, it does. It's a bit cheesy but I love the stars. They are what I look forward to honestly. I feel like we take it for granted. Everyday we wake up and just expect the sun to be there because that's how it's always been. We rush through the day and when night comes, we repeat the cycle. So much beauty and we can't even work up a simple thanks. " When you'd finish your little rant you flushed. "Oh gosh I'm rambling again you probably don't even want to hear all this." You were probably boring this stranger.

"No it's alright. I agree with you. So many things aren't promised, we need to appreciate that. Just recently an incident opened my eyes to just how fleeting life is. I almost lost my family...my brothers. "

You shot up at that."A-Are they okay! W-What happened!" he just let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"They're fine. We survived because well we had each other. That's what life is really about. Family, and of course pizza." you laugh at his joke, resting your head back on your arm. "Well I'm glad it all worked out for you. I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to my sister. "

"She's lucky to have such a wonderful sibling." you blush.

T-Thank you."

"Well, I don't want to keep you awake any longer, and I myself need to get to bed."

"Oh yeah of course. It was nice meeting you uh...umm?"

"Leonardo. But everyone calls me Leo."

"Leonardo, woah."

"I'm (Y/N), It's really nice meeting you Leo."

"Likewise (Y/N)." even the way he said your name made you blush. "I guess we'll talk again?" you said hopefully.

"You can count on it."

~~~~~~

Nights like that continued, you'd be just sitting, enjoying the cool air, and Leo would just appear, striking up a conversation. As the days passed he told you more about himself, and his brothers. Just from the way he spoke it wasn't hard to tell that he loved them. It was clear as day. What you didn't understand is why you never saw him.

You were positive he lived in the apartments above, but no one ever introduced themselves to you. And it felt weird just going up and knocking on random doors to find your mystery man. Maybe he was just shy.

You could understand that. Somehow you felt like no matter what you'd still like him, even if he wasn't the most gorgeous guy in the world. Just from the way he spoke, it pulled you in. He sounded caring, and strong. Passionate too. He never really told you about where he went to school, or if he even did. You really wanted to ask more personal questions, but you didn't want to seem nosy and chase him away with your eagerness.

You'd only been talking for a month now. It's not like you were dating, so he wasn't obligated to tell you anything. You kind of hoped he'd do that on his own.

So you were once again at your ledge. "Leo?"

"Right here. You know I finally saw that movie you were talking about. The croods. Even my brothers were skeptical but it was hilarious. We couldn't stop laughing."

"I know it's a masterpiece I swear." you started giggling, and Leo laughed.

"Really (Y/N), Thank you for recommending it. Raph and I..lately we've been having a hard time. That movie I guess it showed us what it means to have a family. We won't always see things from the same point of view, but at the end of the day, he has my back, and I have his. That's what matters. "

"Well I'm glad I could help. " You sat there for a while in silence, just enjoying the view, and the company of each other.

"Hey (Y/N), can I ask you something?"

"Of course! Ask away."

"If I were...different, what would you think?"

Different?

"Well I guess that depends on your definition of different Leo. Honestly I'd like to think I'm not so shallow to care about something as superficial as looks. " You knew why he was asking. He was probably afraid you would judge him based on how he looked.

"It's not as simple as that." you brows knitted. "Come on, if you're scared don't be. I think as long as you aren't some alien being from another planet we'll be fine. " you laugh in hopes that he'd feel a bit more comforted, but you got nothing but silence in return.

"Leo?" You shifted in your seat, and you're tempted to peek your head over a little so you can catch just a glimpse of him. You don't have to. There's a loud thud, and standing above you on the fire escape is a sight that leaves you breathless. Your eyes are wide, and you can't do much but gape at the six foot green hulk of a man standing in front of you.

"He...has a shell.." So maybe not a man.

"Do you still think that?" That voice, there's no mistaking it, this is definitely Leo. In the flesh, or scales you suppose. His eyes, they're the bluest you've ever seen, and he's wearing a bandana that just makes it more striking. The look he sends you is one that illuminates indifference, A shield. He's probably experienced this reaction often. It's hard not to react this way. What you're seeing right now, it shouldn't be possible. After a long pause of nothing but your staggered breathing, his head lowers.

"I guess you aren't as open minded as you thought." His words are said with so much pain, and you can't even work out a proper word before he's flipping up and away. You just sit there, stiff. You felt frozen in that moment. What lingers is that look in his eyes. He seemed heart broken, and you want to slap yourself for not even calling out to him and apologizing.

"Leo..."

This is probably the last time you'll ever see him.

~~~

"Quit moping around it's annoying. " Leo opens his eyes in response to Raph's statement.

"I'm not moping." He was meditating. It usually helped when he needed to clear his head.

"Ya been acting weird since last night. Did that chick finally see ya or something." His hands tightened in his lap, and Raph doesn't miss the action. "Just...leave me alone Raph." Leo sounded defeated, something Raph thought he'd never see. "There's no shame in admitting ya hurt. You're the leader, not a bulletproof vest." Raph takes a seat next to him, biting down on the toothpick. "Ya know, last time you gave me that crappy speech about true acceptance coming from within. Where did that muck go?" Raph sends him a cocky smile, and Leo can't help but return a small smile. "I guess I'm no good at taking my own advice."

"Not one bit." Leo just sighs, unfolding his legs. It's useless to try and meditate. He can't concentrate when your encounter is running through his head. "If she's half as great as you make her seem, she won't give a crap if you're a mutant or not. Shit like that, it shouldn't matter. If she can't see that then you're just wasting your time. I'm sure there's a whole lot of other girls into your hold uptight know it all attitude."

"You suck at giving compliments Raph."

"Thanks." Both brothers smile, and Raph gives Leo a heavy pat on the shoulder. "Save ya tears for when I kick your ass in training." Raph stands, and Leo shoots after, drawing his swords.

"In your dreams. "

~~~

For the next couple days, you'd wait by your window. It was so weird coming here and not hearing from him. You got so used to the conversation, the company. You wanted to cry, because no matter how many times you called to him, he never answered, all because of you. No wonder he was so scared to show himself. He probably got judged by so many people. How were you better? Even after saying you didn't care. You felt like a hypocrite.

"Leo..I'm sorry." He probably wasn't even there, but you didn't care, you just want to see him again. "I guess I'm no better than some of the kids at my school. They're so focused on what's acceptable that they miss greatness. The way I talk to you is so different. I feel like you get me and you aren't even human, yet the way you think is far more human than the scumbags in this world. You're so considerate and humble and I just want you to know that I'm really sorry. I-I don't care what you are, I just want to talk to you again." you sobbed, hoping that he'd at least come back at some point to see that you were looking for him. With the way you acted, it didn't seem like a possibility.

"Do you mean that, you really don't care.." your eyes lit up. You could hear him climbing down the wall, and when his feet landed on the fire escape this time, you didn't freeze.

"Leo..." He looked down at you a bit guilty when he saw your tears.

"(Y/N).." you could tell he was about to apologize, but you quickly wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeves, smiling up at him as you pushed up the window higher. You took a step back, and Leo got the message. He hesitated for a second, unsure if he should really step in. He didn't want you to faint like April did the first time she saw him. Yet, this was your second meeting, and you looked more curious than afraid this time. So he ducked his head, cautiously inching through the window. When he finally raised his body, you were still watching him.

Now that you had a better look you could make out how muscular he was. He also had two swords strapped to his back. He caught where your eyes drifted and lifted his hand immediately.

"D-Don't worry I only use these against criminals."

"Criminals?"

Wait he couldn't be..could he?

"Are you..the vigilante?" he scratched his head. By the way he was looking around you could tell he hadn't meant to disclose that information. "I'm one of them." So this whole time, no wonder he was always at the top of your apartment. The buildings were a perfect way to get around, especially at night.

"That night when I heard you talking I just..I don't know why but you sounded so defeated. I thought a few words would help lighten your night. After that talk we had though, I couldn't stop thinking about you so I kept coming back." you heart skipped. So it was the same for him.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you would ask to meet and I was terrified (Y/N). I didn't want our talks to end, but I felt like I was betraying your trust by not telling you the truth about me. I'm sorry that I made you cry, I never wanted to hurt you."

He had nothing to apologize for, you were the one that stared like he was some freak.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm the one in the wrong. I was just so shocked. I thought aliens were a myth. " He smiled at you.

"I'm not an alien." you stammered.

"O-Oh! S-sorrry I guess I just assumed and I-"

"It's okay. If I were in your shoes I'd think the same. Aliens are real though. "

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Woah." you took a step back, dropping on your bed with a wistful look. Guess there was more out there than you initially thought. Leo stepped a bit closer, you could tell he wanted to sit next to you, but he seemed to be debating with himself if it was the right move. You patted the space next to you with the widest smile. He just let out a soft laugh, sitting at the edge of the bed with you. It dipped a little at his added weight, and it made you slide down into his arm. You caught yourself, looking up to tell him sorry.

His hand was right where you'd grip to steady yourself, and your gazes locked. Up close, his eyes were bluer than before. Or maybe that was just your brain playing tricks on you. Your heart was hammering now, and you were absolutely horrified that he could hear it. You didn't want to move, or look away. Leo appeared to be caught in a similar trance.

"Would you mind if I..kissed you Leo.." He blinked in surprise. Surely this was a dream. It had to be. Or some sick joke. That's what he thought. But when he saw the little light shining behind your orbs, he couldn't seem to convince himself it wasn't real. You were so much closer than before, and you were still holding unto his arm. He could feel the heat from your palm. Was that your pulse racing, or his. He couldn't differentiate. He realized then that he hadn't answered your question. You were just watching him expectantly. "I...I..what.." now he forgot how to form proper words.

You leaned in closer, and he gulped. "I want to kiss you...so bad.." you breathed. You were getting closer, and he couldn't trust himself to speak again, so he just moved with you, closing the distance. When your lips touched you were stunned at how soft his were. You inhaled, leaning into his body as you kept a hold on his arm.

Leo was completely lost and taken by the sensation. It was no secret that he'd never kissed before. His palm moved to your cheek, and he responded, pulling you closer. He hoped, wished that this very moment would never end. He craved the sensations that rushed over his body as you parted to get a breath, only to dive back in for another taste. It was mind blowing. When he felt your tongue prodding his lips slightly, he opened them slightly, and your wet appendage dove in. the minute your tongues touched he pulled back. His eyes were wide and you retracted with red cheeks.

"S-Sorry! I-I don't know where that came from I just I-I.."

"I-It's fine. I'm..I've never kissed like that it just surprised me a little." you placed both of your hands in your lap, flustered. That was the first time you'd ever try to french a guy. Turtle. Leo was watching the way you fidgeted. He didn't intend for you to feel bad. It actually felt really good. So good he didn't know what to do so he panicked.

"Can we try again?" He whispered. Your eyes lifted, and you nodded a bit shyly.

This time Leo was the one who initiated the kiss. He liked the way it felt so he didn't waste time with chaste pecks. He opened his mouth and you moaned when his tongue invaded your mouth. This time you positioned yourself closer, and Leo reached down, lifting your hips and placing you right into his lap. Your hands came up, going around his neck as you continued to exchange wet desperate kisses. You supposed another thing you were wrong about was your self control. You used to look at the kids in your class and contemplate how shamelessly hormonal they were. Kissing at the lockers, making out under the bleachers. Now, you sort of understood. Leo was the exception. He was indeed different, but that's what made him great.

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elizabeethan · 3 years

Text

Forget What I Said (It’s Not What I Meant) 3/3

His laugh is self deprecating. It’s almost hateful as he shakes his head and turns away from her. “I want you, love, more than anything. But I don’t want to be your secret. I’m not willing to sit around and wait for you to come to your senses. If you don’t have feelings for me as I do you, then I think you should go.”

“Hook,” she tries again uselessly.

“Please,” he begs, refusing to look her way for the first time. “I’ve known enough heartbreak in my life. I’ve learned to prevent it where I can.”

Hey! It’s @donteattheappleshook‘s birthday so I decided to post the last part of this story :) Also, we’re aware that we’re basically writing the same fic. That’s how this all started. so enjoy a double dose of Neverland nonsense. Originally posted for @neverlandnewyear

Thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for being a kick ass beta and even better friend!

rated E for smut and language

~7400 words

Part 1, Part 2

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschazi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook

She’s fine. Everything is totally and completely fine. Nothing is bothering her.

That’s what she tells herself when she sees Hook and Tink walk into Granny’s a week after his hardcore rejection of her. She nearly chews a hole through her straw.

“Mom,” Henry says, probably not for the first time, as he waves at her to get her attention. “Mom, I have to go to school.”

“Right, right, I know,” she responds, wiping her mouth with her napkin and scooting to the edge of the bench.

“You don’t have to walk me, you know.”

“I want to,” she says with a smile. She does want to, any chance she gets to spend time with her son is a gift. Any chance she gets to spend time away from Hook is also a gift. She walks to the register and notes Ruby’s gaze, deep and adoring as she stares in Hook’s direction. Of course.

“Sorry,” she says once her attention is brought back. “Checking out?”

“Yeah,” Emma grumbles, taking out her wallet and handing some cash to Ruby.

She sighs longingly as she counts the cash, hardly looking down, then says, “you guys were in Neverland together, huh?”

Emma rolls her eyes and takes her change, unable to answer before Henry calls for her from the door. She exits the diner, and it takes way too much effort to not look back at Hook as she does so.

By the time she gets to the station, her mood is less than sunny, but that doesn't stop her father from shouting, “good morning, sunshine!” as she walks in.

Mumbling a greeting in his direction, she sits at her desk and tries to ignore the anger bubbling up inside her. How could he move on that quickly? How could he tell her that he has feelings for her and then start hanging around with her? He knows she has walls, she just didn’t expect him to give up scaling them so quickly. She thought she meant more to him than that.

She isn’t sure why meaning more to him than that is so important to her.

Sadness, she thinks. What she’s feeling isn’t anger, it’s sadness. She’s sad that she lost him. Sure, she’s mad at him for rejecting her, but she has to assume that the constant desire to break down and cry is more due to her sadness at their… well, it isn’t a breakup.

“Hon,” she hears from the office door, jumping back into reality with a start. “You got a minute?”

“Sure,” she sighs, sitting back in her chair as David walks in and makes himself at home.

With a soft smile, he sits in the chair across from her and folds his hands over her crossed knees. “So,” he starts. “What’s up?”

She lets out a suspicious laugh, giving him a look of incredulity. “Not much, you?”

David smiles again and shakes his head. “I mean what’s going on? What’s up with you lately?”

“Ah,” she laughs. “Just jumping right into it, are we?”

“More my style,” he explains, and she laughs again. “Emma, something’s clearly on your mind, and I think I know what it is.”

She looks up at him through her lashes shyly and shrugs. “I guess.”

“You’ve got a lot of pressure on you right now. And I’m sure a lot of people want you to make… difficult decisions.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult,” she says without thinking much. But her father’s right. She is getting pressured from almost everyone she knows. She wants nothing more than to make Henry happy, but if it’s at the expense of her own happiness, is it worth it? Does thinking that way make her a bad mom? Is choosing her own happiness worth the backlash she’s sure to get? When did Hook become her happiness? “If you thought you were coming in here to tell me to be with Neal, don’t even bother.”

“Oh, I’m not here to push you in one direction or another. Just to tell you I understand.”

“You do?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “You know who doesn’t? Your mother.”

She lets out a hearty laugh now, her first in weeks, and asks, “what makes you say that?”

“Well, she believes in your first love being your true love. She thinks that if you had love for Neal back then, then you must have love for him now.”

“I do,” she sighs. “But I can’t just…”

“You can’t trust him.” He isn’t even asking. She nods. “Because of your past?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice small and weak as she thinks of all that they’ve been through. All that he put her through.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” She slumps back into her chair and lets out a groan, thrusting her fingers into her hair and tugging just slightly. David laughs softly but waits with gentle patience.

“It was… I was homeless. I was on the run after leaving a foster home.” She knows that the way she starts the story surprises her father, but he lets her continue without interrupting. “I broke into a car, and it turns out he had already stolen it; that’s how we met. And I was so young and naive, and I never really had anyone who cared for me like that before, so I fell for him. The Bonnie and Clyde act was so romanticized, but at the end of the day, we lived in a car and stole every meal. We couldn’t keep going on like that, so we made a plan to settle down.”

She can see the pain in her father’s face as she tells him what her life was like growing up without him. She knows it isn’t his fault, and he knows it too, but that knowledge doesn’t make the truth hurt any less.

“Anyway, he had stolen some watches a few months prior and was wanted. He couldn’t collect the watches from where he stashed them without getting caught, and we needed the money so that we could settle down. I decided to get the watches. And he was gonna go and fence them and meet me after with the money, but he gave me one first. So when he called the cops and they found it on me, it was easy to pin the crime on me.”

“Emma,” he breathes, dropping his head to his hand briefly before looking back up at her with glassy eyes.

“It’s just…” she says through her own tears, ones she didn’t realize were falling. “I loved him. I really thought I did. And when I found out I was pregnant, a part of me wished he would come back and we could be a family. But he never did, and the more time that went by, the more I realized I could never—” she chokes on a soft sob at the memory. “I could never have raised Henry by myself. I had nothing. No one to help me. No money, nowhere to live… I was stuck with a criminal record and a teenage pregnancy and it was all because of him.”

It was because of him. What’s to say he won't do it again?

All she can think about is the one person she knows would never do that to her.

“I had no idea,” David says sadly.

“How could you?”

He shakes his head and sighs. “It all makes perfect sense. I wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about not being with him but…”

“I don’t think I ever forgave him. I don’t know if I ever could. He— he took away my chance to raise my son.”

She didn’t expect to be so emotional about this; she’s had plenty of time to process what’s happened. Maybe it’s the fact that this is one of the most heartfelt conversations she’s ever had with her father. Maybe it’s the fact that her old wounds have been ripped open again by Neal’s return.

She considers the pain and fear that comes with being with him. She thinks about the comfort and security she feels with Hook. She wants to bury her head in sand.

“I’m sorry that your mother and I have been pushing you to be with him. It isn’t fair to you.”

“You didn’t know.”

“We should’ve known you had a good reason.” She shrugs, sighing and resting her head on the desk for just a moment. “You know, this seems like a pretty easy decision to me: don’t be with Neal.”

She laughs at that, lifting her head and resting back against the chair. “Yeah, that’s the easy part.”

“Ah, I knew it. So this isn’t just about him?”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “you’re pretty perceptive, aren’t you?”

He hums out a laugh and says, “Well, if you want my advice, which I realize you didn’t ask for but I’m going to give anyway, I’d say you deserve to be with someone who would do anything for you. Someone who would go out of their way to make sure you’re safe, that your family is safe. Someone… honorable.”

“Honorable…?” She cocks her head to the side and somehow knows exactly where he’s going with this.

“Yeah. Someone who has had a few opportunities to show that he’s honorable. Someone who has proven himself, despite his past.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes and saying, “you’re too much.”

“I’m not nearly as dramatic as someone else I know, whom I believe I saw heading to his ship not thirty minutes ago.”

She looks up at him again, this time cautiously, emotionally, and says, “you did?”

With a smirk, he nods. “I saw how happy you were for the past few weeks, Emma, and I can see how unhappy you are now. I don’t know what went on between you and Neal, or you and Hook, but whatever it is, it’s time to fix it. You deserve to be happy.”

She does, doesn’t she? Hasn’t she had enough heartache in her life? Isn’t it time for her to admit to herself what would make her happy?

His strong arms holding her, keeping her safe. His soft touches as he comforts her whenever she’s upset. His gentle words of encouragement and belief in her.

He makes her happy. And she messed it up. She hurt him.

She’s got to fix this.

She huffs and rolls her eyes again, standing and taking her keys off of the desk. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he calls after her. She rolls her eyes again.

~~~~

She’s on his ship again.

She’s holding flowers.

Roses.

Emma feels the tears trailing down her cheeks, cool against her flaming skin, and drops her head down onto her arms dramatically. She’s too late, she thinks. She hurt him too badly. There’s no way she can put herself out there now. Tink is probably a better match for him anyway. They have a long history, and if she considers the shared glances on the island, probably a sensual one. She probably knows him better than almost everyone. Better than Emma, at least.

God, she messed up.

She messes up more, though, when her arm slips off the steering wheel and her head collides with the horn, alerting everyone at the docks of her presence.

Everyone.

She scrambles, cursing as she searches for the keys in her bag that lays on the passenger's seat. “Fuck,” she mumbles once she finally finds them, but her hands are shaking so much that she can’t find the correct key and get it into the ignition. Once she finally does, she roars the engine to life and whips it into drive, glancing up and out the windshield, when she sees him. She screams, jumps, and starts rolling towards him.

She hears his soft bloody hell from inside the car as he holds up his arms as if surrendering to her manic driving. She puts the car back into park and drops her head to the wheel once more.

He rounds the car, squatting before her window and smiling softly before he points down, asking her to open it for him. She obliges, reaching for the crank and turning it painstakingly as it squeaks in resistance. “Alright, love?” he asks, and she thinks it might kill her to be here.

“Sorry that I interrupted whatever you and Tink—”

“You didn’t interrupt. Tink was just leaving. She’s got a big date tonight.”

Leave it to him to rub it in. Bastard. “I’m sure you’ll have a marvelous time.”

He scoffs, standing up as if to leave, and she rolls her eyes. But he walks around the car until he reaches the passengers side and jiggles the handle until she unlocks it. He moves her bag and places it on his own lap once he sits. “Swan,” he says, staring at her despite the fact that she refuses to look anywhere but straight ahead. “Emma, look at me.”

She turns, looking at him through her lashes and wishing she didn’t have to hold back. She wishes she could reach over the center console and kiss him. But despite her acceptance of her own feelings, she knows she needs to do the right thing.

“What’s wrong?”

She isn’t sure what to make of this question. Of all the things he could say, he chooses this. She thinks of the fact that Neal hasn’t noticed anything being off about her.

“Nothing,” she lies, faking a smile and looking back at the horizon.

“Emma,” he repeats. His voice is commanding, but not threatening. “You forget that you’re an open book, love. You’re here for a reason; tell me what it is.”

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out without meaning to.

He draws in his brows, then raises one dramatically as he stares her down. “You are?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

“For what?”

“You’re gonna make me say it?” she scoffs.

With a smirk, he responds, “aye.”

With a sigh, she drops her head once again onto the wheel, then lets out a loud groan. “I’m sorry,” she starts, “for everything. You were right, I was using you, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

She lifts her head just slightly to look at him for a moment, and sees a soft smile gracing his face. “Thank you.”

She leans back in the seat, her gaze finding the ceiling far too interesting. “And,” she says, struggling a bit to get the words out. “I’m sorry that my inability to deal with my own feelings hurt you.”

He takes her hand in his but she can’t look at him. He squeezes softly and says, “Swan.”

With a sigh, she gives in, unable to look away from those forget-me-nots for long. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

As she stares into his eyes, she realizes why she was trying so hard not to. They’re so enchanting that she’s sure she could say something foolish if she continued to stare into them. Instead, she whispers, “you’re welcome.”

“Would you care to come aboard so we can talk a bit more comfortably?” he asks softly, taking her hand in his hesitantly.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why’s that?” His face is falling, and she wants to catch him and make him smile again.

“I don’t want to get between you and Tink. I shouldn’t have even said anything— if you’ve moved on with her—”

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he says through a laugh. “Tink was here for advice. She doesn’t know much of anything about this town and she was interested in Ruby. She wanted to see if I knew anything about her from my short time here before Neverland.”

She squints as she thinks, then blurts out, “Ruby?!”

With a chuckle, he responds, “aye. Ruby and Tink have a date tonight,” and suddenly things start to make sense.

“So when she was here last week…”

“Why Swan,” he says with a smirk, “are you implying that you were here last week?”

She blushes fiercely and chooses honestly as she nods. “Yeah, but I left. And I’m glad I did.”

“Why’s that?”

“When I came then, I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t have said the things I needed to say. I’m glad I waited until now so that I could tell you that…”

“That…?”

“That I… I like you.”

His smile is brighter than the sun reflecting off of the dancing ocean waves. “I quite like you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yes.” She laughs softly, meeting his eyes once more and falling for him a bit harder. “Now, would you come aboard? I’m sure you could use something to eat.”

She shouldn’t be surprised that he seems to have noticed her nearly full plate at breakfast this morning. With a small smile, she says, “okay.”

When they get to the galley, kept as tidy as the rest of the ship, he offers her an orange, citing their curative properties. When she accepts, he uses his hook to start peeling it, but once she takes over, he looks at her suspiciously. “What?” she asks.

“I’ve just never seen you willingly eat something so healthy,” he shrugs. “I’m surprised you aren’t demanding Poptarts.”

With a scoff, she says, “it’s not like you have any.”

“Well, I’m not sure what the bloody hell a s’mores is,” he says, walking towards a cabinet and taking out a large blue box. Family size. Her mouth is watering. “But I suppose they do look rather appealing in the picture here.”

“You didn’t,” she says with a grin, unceremoniously dropping the inferior orange onto the table and hurrying towards him.

He shrugs, easily opening the box with his hook. “Well,” he says, trailing off and giving her a knowing smirk as he hands her one of the silver packets.

Instead of taking it, she leans towards him and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. He lets her kiss him for a few moments, backing them up so that he leans against the cabinet, before breaking them apart and murmuring, “eat,” against her lips.

“I’m hungry for something else,” she whispers, but her stomach growls angrily and he hoists her into his arms and carries her backwards until he can rest her on the small table in the center of the galley.

“I’ll not be able to have my wicked way with you if you swoon from hunger, love,” he says flirtatiously, touching their foreheads together, cupping her cheek in his palm and running his thumb along her bottom lip tantalizingly. “Eat,” he repeats, his breath fanning over her face and making her eyes flutter.

“You’re no fun,” she pouts when he breaks away from her, not even giving her a final kiss.

“I’ll be much more fun later,” he promises as he sits in the chair just below her and takes the half-peeled orange, starting on it again for himself. Once it’s opened up, he begins segmenting it meticulously, peeling away the pith and dropping it onto the discarded peels that he left on the table. Watching him place each segment into his mouth halfway and bite down, licking his lips as the juice escaped them, is driving her mad with want.

She eats her Poptart slowly, barely able to appreciate the sweet taste she loves so much because of the distraction he serves. But then she realizes that not only is he perhaps the sexiest man she’s ever met, he’s also the most thoughtful. Seriously, a family sized box of her favorite, most versatile meal doesn’t seem like a big gesture, but she knows the meaning behind it. He bought that for her because he cares about her comfort and her happiness. He knows they’re terrible for her, and will likely berate her when she finishes the box in a week, but he got them anyway because he cares.

Dammit.

She puts the empty foil packet down on the table by the discarded peel and scoots to the edge of the surface before him, dropping herself onto his lap and straddling his hips with her knees. She isn’t even sure this chair can support the weight of the both of them, but she supposed they’ll find out soon enough when it either breaks or he complains of a safety issue.

He doesn’t though, he merely pops the last segment into his mouth salaciously and places a hand on her hip, smirking as he chews in a way that shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. “Finished?” she asks him in a breathy tone when he licks his lips again.

“With the orange,” he confirms with a nod. “With you, not even close.”

She giggles, actually giggles, before her fingers find his hair and she’s kissing him, enjoying the taste of citrus against her tongue. His hand begins to roam her back, tucking up under her jacket and stroking along her soft, thin shirt while his hook finds purchase in the belt loop of her jeans. It's so easy to be here, to melt into him under his touch, to let herself relax into the feeling of being his.

He breaks away from her slightly, gently, and runs his fingers through her hair to move it away from her face. “What is it?” he asks, as if he can’t quite read her racing thoughts.

With a smile, she shrugs and leans into his palm against her cheek. “Nothing,” she starts. “Just… this feels right.”

He smiles too, leaning closer to kiss her chastely. “Aye, it does. I’m glad to hear you think so.”

“I want,” she begins, cut off by her own insecurity until his thumb traces the line of her jaw soothingly. “I want you. I want— I want to be with you.”

“You’re with me, love,” he breathes against her, kissing her softly once more.

She falters at his misunderstanding, but forces herself forward so that he grasps her true meaning. “I meant I want… us. I want to try— with you.”

He’s still for a moment, and she feels her heart nearly beating out of her chest. She wonders if he can hear it. Though she thought they were on the same page, she isn't sure if this is him gearing up to reject her again. Maybe he isn't ready.

But when the smile grows on his face and he kisses her again, sweet and passionate and everything she’s been missing over the last week, her heart races for a different reason. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he says against her lips, kissing her again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She wastes no time bringing his lips back to hers, running her fingers through his thick, ink-black hair and tugging him as close to her as she can. His hand continues to run up and down along her side before finally tucking under her shirt, erupting a trail of goosebumps in its wake and making her shiver against him. He chuckles as she wiggles just slightly and asks, “cold, love?”

“No,” she responds. “Definitely not.”

“Are you hot, then?” he asks with a smirk before biting her bottom lip lightly and drawing a giggle from her.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, I'm hot for you.”

She snorts and pulls away from him, resting her head on his shoulder and biting the soft flesh where his neck needs his shoulder. He hisses, and the sound goes straight through to her core.

“Take me to bed,” she whispers in his ear before biting the lobe.

He hums lewdly and squeezes her before backing the chair up from the table and hoisting her up into the air, her ankles crossing around him. He struggles carrying her through the ship, having to go from the galley to the main deck and then back down into his quarters, but he doesn't complain once.

When they get down the ladder, Emma terrified that he’ll drop her but keeping her fears to herself as she clings tightly to his shoulders and hips, he plops her on the bed and smirks down at her devilishly. “My my,” he says. “How I’ve missed you.”

With a soft smile, she asks, “have you?”

“Of course I have,” he answers, crawling up the length of her and settling himself upon her. “I hope you know I took no pleasure in turning you down the last time, love.”

“I know,” she says with a sad smile, the memory flooding back to her. She touches his cheek gently with her hand, reveling in the fact that she’s here now, despite what’s happened between them. “It’s good that you did. I had to figure myself out.” He hums but doesn't agree verbally, perhaps worried about offending her. “I’m sorry, Killian,” she whispers. His eyes sparkle a bit and she thinks it must be because she uses his name. He likes when she does that.

“I know, darling. You needn't say it again.”

“You were right, I was using you and it was unfair.”

“I’m only happy you see that now, and that we’re able to move past it.”

“Yeah.”

He kisses her fervidly and she returns it, hoping to convey exactly how she's feeling through the connection between them. His tongue snakes out along her lip until she grants him access and he takes it happily. His hand trails back down her waist, squeezing her hip as if he can’t get her close enough to him. “I want you,” he mumbles against her mouth without actually breaking from her. “You've no idea how badly I wanted to eat my pride and let you into my bed when you came here, Swan. Thinking I wouldn’t ever have you again was torture.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I never want to stop this.”

“Good.”

His lips trail down her jaw, along her throat, towards her chest, until he moves her shirt aside and licks against her sensitive skin along the line of her bra and she moans. He raises himself off of her a bit and tugs her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it to the ground, then follows suit with her shirt. “Has it truly only been a week since I’ve seen these breasts?” he wonders aloud dramatically, drawing a laugh from her.

“You're ridiculous,” she chortles, tugging on his hair as he removes her bra. He finally mastered the modern corset a few weeks ago and he gets it off quickly, even with one hand. Once she’s free from her confines, he tosses the garment to the floor with grandeur and pounces on her, drawing a hearty laugh from her.

Her laughter is short lived, as the second his tongue strokes along her hardened nipple, her breathing chokes. He nips and sucks and licks just right until she’s being driven mad, his hand paying attention to the neglected breast. His hook trails her waist, the cool steel a shock to her heated flesh, until he reaches the button of her jeans and releases her nipple with a pop. He travels further down her body until he reaches the button, his face lining up to it and his fingers working deftly as if he needs to be close to complete his task. When he tugs the pants down her legs, his hand squeezes her ass lightly on its way down and she giggles again. She’s never laughed this much during foreplay, ever.

He presses hot kisses against the front of her, still covered in her cotton underwear, before he loops his hook in then and starts tugging them down as well. Feeling the contrast between his warm fingers and his cool hook against her flaming skin drives her wild with her need for him.

He sits up so that he can toss her pants and boots to the floor, and she only thinks about how unfair it is that he’s still fully dressed for a moment before he’s trailing hot, wet kisses from her knee up the inside of her thigh. “So flawless,” he murmurs against her leg, biting her flesh and likely leaving a mark. “So perfect, and all mine.”

She moans again once he finds his way to her center, licking a strip through her dampened folds. She hums happily and her fingers find his hair, never tiring of the vision of his head between her legs. A thought pops into her head, and she realizes this is the first time they've been this intimate in his bed. It’s the first time they haven’t had to rush through it.

“Killian,” she breathes out as his fingers dive into her and curl just right.

He hums against her in response and she keens, arching her back in hopes of getting closer to him. “Aye, love?” he asks with his tongue planted against her clit.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “More.”

She thought she was going to ask him to stop so that he could fuck her, but at this point, she’s so close that she can’t seem to form the words. He continues his unyielding attention to her until she snaps, silently screaming and pulling on his hair too hard.

It’s only once she’s come down, as he continues to stroke his fingers against her tightened muscles, that she notices him rutting his hips against the mattress, still fully clothed. She places her hands on his forehead, then his cheeks once he emerges from between her thighs. “Come here,” she whispers. He smiles, doesn’t smirk, and crawls up the length of her to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You’re still dressed,” she remarks.

“I’m sure we can remedy that.”

“How? There are so many buttons, and they’re so small.” He laughs as she goes on. “How do you even get them done? I’m not surprised you leave so many open.”

“I suppose I’ll need your help then, darling.”

Pushing his shoulders, she flips him onto his back and straddles his lap, bending down to plant her lips against the skin of his chest with each button that she opens. She pushes it open and finds a scar from a blade on his side, below his ribs, and presses a kiss there. She finds another from a bullet on his shoulder and decorates it with another kiss. She takes his arm in hers and kisses the tattoo above his wrist.

She undoes the laces on his trousers and pulls them off, her face lining up with his cock so that she can lick a strip up his shaft. He groans as she does, and his hips jump towards her when she takes him in her mouth. She can hardly fit all of him in her mouth without her eyes watering.

She revels in the sounds he makes in response to each of her movements, groaning and moaning as she swallows around him. She hollows her cheeks around his tip before taking him again, but he places his hand on her cheek to stop her. “Love,” he rasps. “I want you.”

She releases him with a soft pop and looks at him through her lashes as he takes a deep breath, guiding her up to him and kissing her softly. “You’re incredible,” he whispers against her lips.

With a giggle, she sits up, taking him in her hand once more and stroking him a few times before running the tip along her folds. He squeezes her hip as she tucks him inside her and they groan in unison. She looks down at him as he fills her to the hilt, and she realizes it’s the first time that she’s made eye contact with him during sex. It won't be the last.

He thrusts up into her forcefully as she grinds on top of him, the two of them setting an unforgiving pace for themselves. For each other. He bends his knees behind her, supporting her rear against his thighs and giving her more leverage. She plants her palms on his chest, her hair a curtain around the both of them before he leans up to capture her lips in his. She drops down, her elbows beside his head and his arms around her waist to pull her closer as they continue their movements against each other.

After a moment, he shifts them so that they’re flipping over, Emma landing on her back with Killian on top of her. He plunges back in, kissing her passionately as he thrusts relentlessly, perfectly. She claws at his back and desperately whispers, “don’t stop,” into his ear. He groans and buries his nose into her neck and kisses her skin, the tender gesture a contrast from his fierce thrusts.

They reach a precipice together, clinging to each other and shouting out into each other’s skin. She lets her muscles tighten around him until she falls off the edge of the cliff he’s been working her towards, then she feels him spilling himself into her almost immediately after and it makes her cling to him harder.

He kisses along her neck and jaw and face endlessly as they come down from their highs, and she can only smile once she catches her breath. When she does, she kisses him back.

“That was marvelous,” he whispers, and she chuckles.

“Yeah,” she breathes back. “Thank you.”

“You needn’t thank me for that, love. I’m sure it’ll happen again.”

With a laugh, she says, “no, I mean thank you for listening. And for giving me a chance.”

He rests his forehead against hers and nuzzles his nose against her own and says, “always.”

~~~~

They should’ve been more careful. It was the middle of the morning when she arrived, and she was technically supposed to be working, so they should have taken care not to fall asleep. But when she wakes and the sun isn’t streaming brightly through the eastern-facing windows, she knows she’s screwed.

“Killian,” she hisses, jabbing his ribs with her elbow as he holds her back to his front. “Wake up, I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” he mumbles into her hair, holding her tighter.

“I’m supposed to be at the station.”

“Shhh.”

She rolls her eyes, unaware that Navy men could nap, and wriggles her way out of his tight hold in favor of grabbing her phone. She should have cleaned herself up before they fell asleep, but she didn’t exactly plan on that happening.

When she pulls her phone out of her pocket, she has 3 texts from David.

Hope everything’s going well… All good?

Actually, I don’t want to know.

Been a while, let me know if you’re coming back today.

Dammit.

She scurries around the room to get her clothes on, refusing to speak with her father without them, and then calls him to put his mind at ease. He answers on the first ring. “She’s alive!”

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time and—”

“Seriously, I don’t wanna know. Shifts almost over anyway,” she pulls the phone away and sees that he’s right. She’s a terrible sheriff. “I was able to handle everything. Take the rest of the day and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. You two worked it out, I’m assuming?”

With a grin and a blush as she looks down at Killian who begins to stir, she says, “yeah, we did. Thanks, Dad.”

“See you later,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

When she hangs up, she sees him smiling at her and she can’t help but to go back towards the bed. “Morning,” he murmurs.

“Hardly. It’s almost 3.”

“You must be famished then.” He pulls her hand so that she’s laying across his chest atop the blanket.

“I could eat, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood for another Poptart.”

“I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than one a day.” She doesn’t have the heart to tell him it comes with two in each package.

“Granny’s?”

“Sounds perfect.”

~~~~

They sit across from one another in the booth, Emma’s back to the door, before she thinks better of it and moves to sit beside him. It’s a tight squeeze, but she doesn’t mind being close to him. He gives her a look, a quirky smile as if he’s entertained, and tucks his hook under the table. She wonders if he does this to hide it from her, but she can’t imagine why he would think he’d need to. So, rather than ignore the thoughts like she may have a week ago, or even yesterday, she reaches under the table and takes his hook in her hand to hold it tenderly.

He breathes out in a way that could be a laugh, or perhaps it’s in disbelief, and he bumps her shoulder with his.

“The usual?” Granny asks with disinterest, seemingly unfazed by their close proximity and child-like grins.

“Yes, please,” Emma responds, stomach singing praises at the prospect of a grilled cheese and onion rings.

Killian orders a clam chowder, apparently something he can’t get enough of, much like you, love.

She giggles again, something that makes her so unlike the person she thought she was, and presses her nose to his neck, leaving a kiss there. She’s about to tell him something, she isn’t sure what— perhaps that she thinks he’s funny, or that he’s ridiculous— when the door opens with particular force.

“Emma,” she hears, the tone accusatory, and she straightens, stiffening but not pulling too far away.

Henry’s with him.

Neal picked him up from school.

“Hey mom!” he calls as he rushes towards the table and sits across from them.

“Hey kid,” she says back with a smile. Though she’s rigid, she feels her muscles relaxing in the presence of her son. “How was school?”

She notes Neal from the corner of her eye, sitting awkwardly at the counter but still facing them suspiciously.

“Good, I learned my eights times tables.”

“Wow,” she says with a smile. Though she hated math, she finds that Henry enjoys it, and she couldn’t be prouder. “That sounds fun.”

“What’s this time table? Some sort of clock?” Hook asks.

“Modern math,” Emma explains with a soft laugh, and he nods in understanding.

“So, what are you guys doing here?” he asks, gesturing towards her close proximity to Killian.

“Ah,” Hook says awkwardly, scratching behind his right ear. “Grabbing some lunch.”

“Isn’t it kinda late for lunch?”

She clears her throat and straightens a bit, taking hold of his hook once more under the table and trying to speak loud enough so that Neal can hear. She’s sure he will, as she’s sure he’s listening closely. “Actually, Henry, we’re on a date.” Killian looks at her immediately, surprise and excitement written across his face, and when she meets his gaze, she smiles softly at him. “Right?”

He looks at her so longingly, so… lovingly, that she can’t help leaning towards him. She almost kisses him before she hears Neal stand from his stool and walk over. “Henry, I gotta go.”

“I thought we were having milkshakes?”

“Seems like you can have one with your mom and… Hook,” he spits in disgust.

“Neal,” Emma tries, but he holds up a hand to silence her.

“It’s fine, Ems. I see you’ve made up your mind and that’s just fine.”

She glances towards Henry and Killian and then stands, placing a hand on Neal’s shoulder to not-so-gently persuade him to speak with her in private.

“Neal, come on,” she says once they’re alone.

“What?”

“So I didn’t choose to be with you! I’m sorry about that. It doesn’t have to impact us.”

“There is no us, Emma. You made that perfectly clear when you stood me up and got together with him.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs an angry breath. “We have a child together. We will always have a relationship. And you were engaged a few weeks ago! To someone who kidnapped my son!” she hisses in quiet anger.

“I didn’t know Tamara was like that!”

“The point is, you have no claim over me. You have no right to judge me for moving on and being happy with someone who isn’t you. I can’t go through this with you. You were just engaged to someone else. How could I even believe you?”

“That thing with Tamara wasn’t even real, Emma, you know that.”

“But you didn’t know that; it was real for you. And seeing how fast you moved on from her just reminded me how fast you moved on from me. After you left me in jail.”

“We’re not seriously talking about that again, are we?”

“We’ve never talked about it!” She’s trying so hard not to raise her voice, mindful of the fact that Hook is somehow entertaining Henry across the diner.

“I moved on from her because I knew I wanted to be with you!”

“It’s not enough for me. I deserve to be with someone who makes me feel safe. Who shows me every day that they want to be with me too. That I mean something to them.”

His tone is so patronizing that she feels herself shrinking. “When did I ever show you that you didn’t mean something to me?”

“When you called the cops!” She does shout now, the diner quieting and the patrons turning to look at them discreetly, and she blushes

“You’re really letting the chance of us go because of a pirate and a mistake I made 12 years ago.” It wasn’t a question. He seems in such disbelief and she honestly isn’t sure what to say to make him see her point. The fact that it isn’t just what happened 12 years ago.

“That wasn’t a mistake, Neal. A mistake is something you can fix. What you did ruined my life. You took away my chance to raise my child.” It’s all she can do to keep from crying at the memory of the decision she had to make.

“I didn’t know,” he says softly, weakly, as he looks down at his feet.

“I don’t care.”

“Well, what about Hook?” He asks, raising his voice now. “He left with the bean, didn’t he?”

“And then he immediately came back and helped us rescue Henry! He made amends! There’s nothing you can do that will make me forgive you for what you did to me. To him.”

“You said you loved me.”

“Because you gave me my son. You said you wouldn’t stop fighting for us; just… fight for him. He loves you, so I want to be civil and coparent with you. But that’s all you and I will ever be. Please respect that I’ve made my decision and it runs so much deeper than choosing between you and Killian.”

He’s silent for a moment, essentially pouting as he tucks his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and kicks at the ground, before he says, “fine. I gotta go.”

“Okay. When are you seeing Henry for dinner this week?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neal, don’t take this out on him. Just tell me when you plan on seeing him for dinner.”

“I don’t know,” he says more forcefully. “I’ll text you or something.”

“Fine.”

She watches as he walks by the booth, glaring at Hook and tapping Henry on the shoulder, then walks out the door without a word.

~~~~

Later, when they’re on his ship out on the bay, laying together on the main deck as the stars shine in the blackened sky, he runs his fingers through the ends of her hair and she traces hers through the curls on his chest. “I only know the Big Dipper,” she says softly, and he hums happily.

“I’ll teach you, love.”

She curls up closer to him, tucking her head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “That sounds nice.”

“And perhaps we can have dinner beforehand. Somewhere other than Granny’s?”

With a soft chuckle, she asks, “why Captain, are you asking me out?”

“I believe that’s customary in this realm, yes?”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

He kisses against her temple, pulling her closer to him until she’s giggling and hopping up onto his hips and straddling her thighs around his, running both hands along his cheeks and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Well then,” he says once she releases him, “I quite look forward to it. Henry informed me that you may enjoy an Italian meal.”

“Henry did?”

“Aye, lad was quite excited, I’d say. Said something about taking you out on a real date. And about being glad to see his mother so happy.”

She laughs in disbelief and shakes her head before kissing him, this one with more fervor than the last. She sneaks her tongue along his bottom lip softly as his hand trails up her waist, and she can’t help the contented sigh that releases from her nose. “I am happy,” she says when they press their foreheads together.

“Aye, I look forward to making you happy for many years to come.”

And he does make her happy, scaling her walls and crashing them down until all that remains between them is respect and trust and endless love.

~~~~

#csnlny #forget what I said #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #cs smut #captain swan smut #once upon a time fanfic #ouat ff #ouat smut

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tomb-bloom-noctem · 3 years

Note

Were there any episodes in season 3 where you felt they could've been written better? I'm only asking because I had some ideas I wanted to share with people about fixing them since, to me, the season started becoming a mess around The Phantom and the Sorceress. And the episodes don't need to be outright bad, there could just be parts in it you didn't like.

Oof. I've been a bit loud and obnoxious about certain episodes for sure 😅 I'll try to briefly sum up a few.

Also I'm just gonna say, some of these are just I don't like what they did rather than any huge fundamental problems like the finale.

Also disclaimer. This is not an attack on anyone who likes these episodes! Nobody has to agree with me! If you like these episodes cool! Glad you got something out of it! This is just Tombs being a nit pick loud mouth.

Rumble for Ragnarok

I can't complain too much about this one as it was still entertaining. Norse is part of my heritage and I'm a fan of the mythology which was on full display this episode. My only real issue this episode is that the message gets a little lost at least on me. And then two is I think out of all the episodes this one is the one that could absolutely be thrown out without losing anything really important. Trade this episode for something different. Something more important.

The Forbidden Fountain of the Forever Glades

Scrooge's behavior and leaving Webby in the jungle was painful to watch. (Much as I don't like the finale twist, the twist actually makes this episode worse.) [Also so much for Goldie's "fresh start" when in Split Sword of Swanstitine later showed she once again attempted to double cross Scrooge. Yeah. Fresh start. Totallyyyy.] Goldie is a fun character and I can't hate her too much. The episode has its merits and definitely still think this episode should be around but Scrooge's behavior here really kills me. Thankfully at the end he does better but ugh. It's low on the overall ranking for me based on how he behaves and treats Webby.

New Gods on the Block

I actually really love this episode but Storkules was pissing me off too much 😂 Nit pick for sure. I love this himbo but got dangit he was making me so mad. I get it was kinda important for the overall plot but come on we got so little Donsy content that it was frustrating that he was so intrusive.

The First Adventure

Nit picking again. I think it's kinda random how in the span of a few hours a hard ass like Scrooge went from "my obnoxious niece and nephew" to "my heirs and beloved family." I guess it's possible but not a fan of that kind of writing. For me it would make more sense that they had several adventures or at least more time with them before they became "his heirs" in his eyes. Extreme nit picking on my part though, the episode isn't bad at all really. Also no Hortense and Quackmore. Yes they were named. (Or she was) No we never got to see them. Rude! This was actually a really good episode though overall again I just have some minor nit picks.

The Fight for Castle McDuck

Okay this one is also kind of a nit pick but it's more like based on the episode's timing. I think it is absolutely ridiculous that Webby "Knower of all things Clan McDuck" has no idea that a family of Scots fights a lot. I can somewhat forgive it though as she's young and isn't as familiar with this side of the family in the flesh. But it's so weird how this late into the show we're seeing this?? I think I would have liked this episode more if it had popped up earlier into season 3 rather than so late? It just was a kinda weird episode and not the most enjoyable but the timing I think made it worse. Also the no mention of Hortense again. Referring to Matilda as the youngest when that's supposed to be Hortense? It's really not the worst episode. It just feels a bit off to me and again to me mostly the timing of it. Could have been better, could have been worse.

How Santa Stole Christmas

THROW THIS EPISODE INTO THE FUCKING GARBAGE. HATE HATE HATE IT. THIS ONE ACTUALLY MAKES ME RAGE.

This episode is actually worse for me than the finale. Literally I consider this episode the worst in the series. I just hate it!!!

I hate that this episode was about Scrooge and Santa. I really don't give a fuck why Scrooge hates Santa and this story in no way compelled me. (Also why was Scrooge and Santa's dialog weirdly shippy??? Thanks to this episode got another huge NOtp, "scranta" is gross, sorry, hate it. Absolutely cannot board that ship at all, I have the tag blocked.) I see absolutely no reason why this was the story we got when there was literally an option to follow up The Last Christmas now that Della was finally home????? MISSED OPPORTUNITY!!! I hate the weird crazy ass capitalist message going on throughout the episode, I get Scrooge is a capitalist himself but he didn't change from this episode? He walked away from Jennifer's obvious poverty life and went "ah as long as she's happy" instead of I don't know, maybe a message about helping the less fortunate??

Look maybe I'm just bitter from my own life. I've lived in extreme poverty my whole life. My parents home has literally looked so much liked the ruined place Jennifer lived in during the episode. And I live in Alaska so I KNOW COLD. I know how it feels to go cold for days on end, no food, no water, nothing. Extreme poverty. Scrooge could have done something. He wasn't like Donald who doesn't have much either. He's a freaking billionaire. He could have helped. And instead the message he walked away with is "if you're happy life is fine" or something. Whatever the message that was supposed to be from this episode is completely lost on me because all I see is a miserable rich old miser who hates letting kids have fun and won't help someone in need. Absolute garbage episode. I really wish they had instead just followed up on The Last Christmas. Or had some kind of family centric episode at least! I seriously fucking hate this episode so much. I would legit erase this episode if I could it is the WORST.

The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker

Nit pick again. Didn't love what they did with Kit. Okay I get the idea he grew up to idolize Baloo so he turned out more like him. It...wasn't great. Didn't like that much at all. Felt like they just tried to shove Kit into a DT87/DWD Launchpad mold. I didn't love that Baloo and Kit's relationship was mentioned weirdly casually? Like Kit called himself Baloo's sidekick??? Except in Talespin Kit calls him Papa Bear??? Also great, got another tag to block from this episode, the delkit ship. Not a fan, thanks.

Kinda weird for me with this episode I didn't really catch the meaning of it. To me it felt like the message was "defy expectations...by meeting them." It didn't really click and I kinda hated it for that plus the weird characterization of Kit. Actually I was on Twitter and someone was complaining about this episode and I responded in agreement and then FRANK REPLIED TO US 😅😅😅. Frank explained that the point was more of "if you're good at something, don't give it up" rather than "you can do anything you set your mind to" type message that appears a lot in kids media. (Also Frank please don't look at me when I'm criticizing the show 😂😂😂😂😭 I promise overall I do love it I'm just a loud mouth when I don't like something some times 😅)

After Frank explained that it did click a little better and I can see the message a bit more clearly. But I'm still not really in love with this episode like I wanted to be. I freaking love Talespin so that was a bummer. But as I've said a dozen times. I'm mostly nit picking my personal opinion.

The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck

Another one I wanted to like more than I actually did. And mostly this boils down to Louie having to apologize to Doofus when Doofus is the one who's like some wild sociopath or something. I get it Louie hasn't been completely innocent towards Doofus. He did try to use him and con him but Doofus flat out has tried to hold him captive and torture and even kill him. Doofus' sins outweigh Louie's. Louie having to apologize to prevent the tension and all just...feels like victim blaming? This one is harder for me to describe why I don't like it and I think others have explained it better than me. I think it could have been better if Louie AND Doofus both apologized and agreed to start over and let what happened between them before be water under the bridge. At least this way they're equals? Maybe it wouldn't have been the best fix but I feel it would have been better than Canon. This one I don't want to call a nit pick. This one feels like there is something fundamentally wrong with it but I struggle to explain. Mostly other than that though I think the episode was fine. A little weird that the karma court scale needed to be told the villains hearts rather than able to just know them (mostly looking at the Ma Beagle one here) but that part is more nit pick.

And finally...The Last Adventure

I have things I love about it. The individual character moments. The references and call backs. The music. This finale was clearly made with love and care.

But that damn Webby clone daughter thing twist changes things. I know some people say it doesn't but to me it does! I feel it messed with the family dynamic and the characters in a needless way. I feel it didn't add anything to but rather did take away from. I don't wanna say too much on it as there's already been so much talk on it so in keeping it brief- not a fan, didn't like, why the hell, no.

The thing with Bradford kinda threw me off too. His logic and insistence on not being a villain made him so interesting. He was truly a villain to rival Scrooge. Then in my opinion he was pushed into a weird middle ground. He didn't feel like he completely abandoned what he previously stood on but also didn't go full villain either? I get a villain like Bradford isn't easy. The writers have to truly bring their all for someone like him. But Bradford suddenly getting armor and the Split Sword and becoming a battling giant was kinda ????? inducing. Threw me for a bit of a loop. I probably need to watch this episode a few more times before I finally settle on where I sit with the Bradford thing but at least at this time I just feel kinda mixed on it. Maybe I missed something there.

Other nit picks from the finale. Donald's writing was a little weird, he sounded like he was going on vacation but then Della said he was moving out and Donald talked like "well you have the boys and Uncle Scrooge..." it just really sounds like he's leaving the family?????????? Especially at a time like this? Rude! I mean yes somebody please get this man a vacation but the writing here left me kinda confused and there is no reason Donald would ever just leave and act like "oh well their mom is back so my work here is done." Nope. DADnald for life.

Lena and Webby never getting shown to have made up after their fight. I imagine the giving June and May the friendship bracelets kinda implies it but come on. Even just a hug would have been good. Also...why are they giving up their friendship bracelets??? Confused, not a fan.

And also...in addition to the Clone twist, I really don't love that April, May, and June were all clones instead of Daisy's nieces. I really wanted to get to see them in the show and now I just feel like thanks I hate it! I admire the guts to make a twist like this and all but I really hate it.

Overall please let me say I LOVE Ducktales. The show as a whole to me is a huge important thing I love. This isn't an attack on anyone who likes these episodes. I am just once again being loud and obnoxious with my own opinions and nit picks and things I just would have liked to see or not see.

no idea if any of this rambling answers your question Anon but here you go. Hope it works.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #ducktales spoilers #season 3 #season finale #ducktales finale #ducktales season 3 #tomb talks #personal opinion #series finale #not attacking anyone #just speaking my mind #long post #ducktales criticism #ducktales critical

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ca311ach · 3 years

Text

Mistake

#dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk

Warning: Major Character Death (?)

(Note: I hate sad endings. Keep that in mind.)

They were so close in the beginning...

Deku and katsuki have been growing apart. Deku’s working all the time, katsuki never sees him anymore— it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to be there. They never talk, never eat together, never go anywhere together, it’s all just work—they don’t even sleep together, Deku crashes at the office more often than not. Deku brushes it all off, says he really doesn’t have time for this conversation, they’ll talk later—

“Oh, will we? ‘Cause-“

“Yeah, sure, Kacchan, look, I really have to go-“

“Then maybe you shouldn’t fucking come back.” Katsuki’s angry, not really paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. He regrets saying it almost immediately, clenches his jaw against the apology balanced on the edge of his tongue-

“Maybe I shouldn’t.” -only for it to dissipate and coat his throat in ashes. Deku’s still shoving clothes into his go bag, hasn’t looked up even once during the conversation. Like it doesn’t matter. Like their relationship and it’s impending end mean absolutely nothing to him. Katsuki stares, sinuses prickling, the room blurring just a little at the edges.

“do you... do you even love me anymore?” The question slips out before he can stop it. Dread drops heavily into his stomach, debris from the beating, breaking thing in his chest.

“...I’ll come by in the morning. Get my things.” Deku pauses, hesitates. Katsuki wants him to look up, to look at him. Just once. They’ve both always been so damn bad with words but they wear their hearts on their sleeves. If Deku would just look at him- “Bye.” Katsuki’s body goes cold. When Deku pushes past him, he does nothing. Stands on numb, shaky legs as the front door opens, shuts. No particular force behind it. No anger, no hesitation, just open and shut. It feels like a dismissal.

Suddenly, katsuki can’t be here anymore, in their shared space with the dozens of photos on the walls, the old worn out sofa with that weirdly shaped stain on the rightmost cushion, the out-of-place poster in the kitchen because katsuki isn’t good with surprises. The all might curtains in the living room because they’re both nerds, the football-sized Pomeranian plushy Deku got him because ‘it looks just like you’. That soap dispenser in the bathroom that looks kinda like a dick but Deku always says is an abstract cat. Their bed.

He stands in the door of their bedroom for a while, itching to leave but not wanting to run into Deku on his way out. What feels like hours later, he throws on a coat, grabs his keys, and rushes from the apartment like a culprit from a grisly crime scene.

He goes to Eijirou and Mina for the night. Their house is always open to him, a haven away from his empty home. He tries not to utilize it much, stubbornly denying his loneliness until the sleep deprivation starts to affect his work.

There’s a large scale villain attack the next day.

Number one hero Deku’s not there to answer the call. He and pro hero Shouto had left the country just that morning for a mission.

The villain has a metallurgy quirk that allows them to control and warp any magnetic metal within their vicinity. The greater the magnetism, the more control they have. They’ve been souped up on an unstable trigger knockoff, developed by an underground lab syndicate. As a result, their influence has expanded to a larger radius and to metals they wouldn’t typically be able to work with. Driven insane by the power, the villain is tearing apart the city of Fukuoka indiscriminately, tearing pipes up through the ground, supports from buildings, smashing cars into groups of civilians and using lampposts as oversized baseball bats. Smaller pieces of metal have become cannon balls, bullets. The civilian death toll is climbing, at least three heroes have been killed; the situation is horrific. Heroes from across Japan are called in to help.

Lemillion and his partner, Suneater, had been first to the scene, there when the perpetrator’s quirk spiraled out of control. They were rushed to the hospital before the roads had filled with flying debris and fleeing civilians. Gale is down for the count— the villain had used his quirk against him, sent hundreds of tiny projectiles to ride his wind and penetrate his skin. Creati managed to slow the villain’s trek across Fukuoka, distracting her with any number of non-metallic obstacles and distance-based weaponry. Unfortunately, the swirl of metal constantly rotating the villain thwarted any attempts at getting close. Plastic sedation bullets ricocheted off flying mufflers and mopeds. Ingenium had to rush in and grab her when she collapsed from exhaustion, narrowly avoiding a sharp piece of sheet metal, poised to slice them in half.

Dynamite arrives late alongside Pinky and Red Riot. He’d called in sick for the day, tired and numb, having spent the night staring at the wall of the Kirishimas’ guest bedroom. The couple had taken the day off, too, to keep an eye on Katsuki. None of them expected the urgent call from their superior, ordering them to Fukuoka /immediately/ to assist in taking down a level nine threat.

Dynamite goes into the fight determined to do the best he can, exhausted as he is, heartbroken and puffy eyed. He’s sloppy, reckless, pushes himself past his limits and then some. He’s shot with makeshift bullets, impaled with scraps, maimed by debris. He’s torn apart.

In the end, Dynamite wins the fight but Katsuki loses his life.

Izuku is watching the fight from Europe where he and Shouto have been temporarily commissioned. He feels helpless, guilty, even before Dynamite turns up on screen. Hasn’t been able to shake the heaviness in his chest since that morning, when he’d rushed to grab more of his things from their shared apartment before heading to the airport. The feeling only multiples when his husband appears on screen, builds from his stomach up to his throat. His chest hurts. He wishes he was there, he wishes he hadn’t left Kacchan like he had, with their relationship up in the air. They were going through a rough patch, and it’s not like he’d been trying to smooth it over at all. Katsuki was perfectly in his right to be angry, especially when Izuku repeatedly dismissed his concerns for the sake of work.

The Dynamite on screen was a mess, though it might not look like it to anyone else. Izuku knew his Kacchan, knew Dynamite, how he moved, how his attacks worked, the explicit precision behind his every maneuver. The Dynamite on screen was reckless and sloppy, throwing himself at the villain again and again. Izuku would swear that he could hear a sharp crunch the next time the villain grabs Dynamite with claws of sharp scrap metal and slams him into the ground.

Still, he blasts himself out of that crushing clutch, propels himself into the air, bleeding and bruised and so obviously broken despite the distance between the fight and the helicopter’s camera. Izuku wishes he could grab him, hold him down, tell him to ‘stop, already, dammit, you’re gonna die if you keep this up.’ But all he can do is watch as Dynamite once again throws himself at the villain, narrowly dodging her reaching, grabbing metal hands, to propel himself into the whirl of torn and splintered metal rotating around her.

He makes it through, disappears into the artificial twister. The circumference of the area he entered is dyed red, a skirt of blood and gore and proof that all the world watching may have just witnessed Dynamite getting shredded into bloody pulp. Izuku’s eyes water, the guilt and the helplessness and the love for his husband that could never fade, never in a million lifetimes, finally clog his throat. He can’t help it, though, the hope in his chest. He’s not dead. Katsuki is not dead.

The whirl of metal stops, suddenly. The scene on the television is completely still; he’d almost think the thing had frozen if not for the exclamations of the live reporter. And then it all falls, loudly, dramatically, a veritable ruckus that has almost everyone in the foreign office around him hurriedly blocking their ears. Izuku can’t move. Can’t breath. The camera zooms.

Dynamite stands over the prone body of the villain. He looks... horrific. Nightmarish. More blood and gore than body. The reporter gasps. The office around Izuku is silent.

Dynamite falls.

And Izuku goes cold.

No.

A winged hero, Blue Jay some part of him interjects, flies over, drops down to let the two medics they have in their arms tend to Dynamite. Uravity follows, hurriedly floating debris and pushing it to the side, making way for more medical personnel. Her movements are frantic.

Not like this.

They finally get the ambulance through, load dynamite in with practiced speed and, sirens wailing, take off across the screen. Blue jay kneels beside the still unconscious villain, grabs at Uravity’s arm to draw her distracted eyes away from a cause she can no longer do anything for.

Not like this, please.

Izuku takes the first flight he can find back to Japan, Shouto at his back. They’re off the flight the second it touches down, in a car not long after.

The hospital is a mess, handling an overload of casualties from the fight. So many civilians injured, so many heroes, too. It’s a struggle to break through bustling nurses and doctors and weeping families, but Izuku and Shouto get to the desk, are promptly sent back to the ER waiting room.

Hours pass, no one comes to talk to them. He and Shouto watch people come and go, watch doctors deliver the good, the bad, and the horrible. Finally, someone comes. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes wide but shuttered. She stares at them for a moment, Izuku and Shouto, and they stare back at her. When the tension reaches a boiling point, she takes a deep shuddering breath and, with a voice choked by grief, she says,

“I’m sorry.”

And Izuku’s world /shatters/.

#my fic #dkbk #bkdk #bakudeku #dekubaku #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #fanfic #angst

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Text

you drive me crazy, crazy for you

Parkner Week Day Two: “And I said ‘no’, you know, like a liar”/ identity shenanigans / iron lad

Peter had been talking to Harley Keener online. They’d met through Twitter, being two of the five people Tony followed, and the casual liking and commenting turned into texting and calling and skyping every chance they got.

They hadn’t told Tony, worried how he’d react to finding out they’d become friends behind his back, and Peter had decided early on that he’d wait to tell Harley about being Spider-Man. He didn’t want secrets to get in the way of their close friendship, but he needed to put his family first and if Harley ever turned on him, not that Peter thought he would, he didn’t want Harley to have that kind of knowledge.

And then, six months into their friendship, Harley admits to having a crush on Peter. They were talking on the phone, quiet and sleepy, late at night, when Harley had murmured how he needed Peter to know. That he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t want them to be something more.

It was hard for their relationship to change from the way it was. Harley lived in Tennessee, Peter in New York, neither of them capable of taking time off to see each other, nor were they able to afford plane tickets. But it felt real anyways.

And then Iron Lad shows up in Manhattan.

“I know you’re here to help, but this is my city,” Peter says, Karen filtering his voice to sound lower. “I don’t team up with just anybody.”

“I know!” Iron Lad exclaims, sounding surprised more than anything. “I don’t want to get in your way or be a problem, but if you need backup, I’m always available.”

Peter frowns, rolling his eyes when Karen sends him another alert of crime. He loves being Spider-Man, he loves patrolling, he loves helping people, but his window of time to call Harley is shrinking every time he goes to stop another crime. It’s been three days since he’s gotten the chance to talk to his boyfriend.

But Iron Lad is standing across from him, suit built strong and colored the same reds and golds as Iron Man’s, and Peter knows it would take half as much time if he let the new hero help him.

“Fine,” he says, trying his best to come off as nonchalant and flippant. “Let’s go then. Prove yourself, and then we’ll see about a team-up, okay?”

Iron Lad nods quickly, muttering a few things to himself and his own AI, and then his comms are linked to Peter’s.

“Perfect. Lead the way, Spider-Man.”

He was right, it does go a lot quicker to have Iron Lad at his side, they manage to detain the criminals, call the police, and save everybody from the robbery within ten minutes. And even when Karen alerts him to another crime on the other side of the city, he doesn’t feel too guilty passing it off to Iron Lad.

“You’ll let me know if you need back-up?” Peter asks before he lets Iron Lad go.

“I’ve got it, Spidey. Have some faith in me.”

Peter smiles behind the mask. He’s never had somebody look out for Queens, he’s never been given the option to go home early, he’s never had the opportunity to choose himself over the city.

When he gets home, tugging off the suit and grabbing his phone, immediately hitting Harley’s contact and preparing to ramble about the school day he had, it’s still before midnight. He rarely ever makes it home before midnight despite it being his curfew.

He’s disappointed though when Harley doesn’t pick up.

He tries again, hoping maybe he just didn’t get to his phone in time, but again, nothing.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t call earlier, I got caught up at the Lab with Tony,” Peter starts when the phone dings to signal his voicemail. “I hope you’re okay… I’m sorry we keep missing each other lately. It’s like we’re just a little out of sync. Only another year, right? And then Boston together? Just like we promised?”

He takes a deep breath, suddenly finding himself choked up. Long-distance relationships are hard. They always are. Online, long-distance, wanting nothing more than to be with him in the flesh, but not being able. It’s hard. There’s so much longing, so much desire, so much he wants to say and do.

“I’m waiting for that hug, you hear me? Next year, when we get to Boston, you better give me one of those dramatic, running hugs in the airport. Anyways, yeah, call me when you can, okay? I miss you.”

Out the window, he can hear the sound of Iron Lad’s repulsors, going after the sound of echoing gunshots. And next door, May’s sleeping soundly. But Peter’s chest feels carved open, missing so desperately and longing for his boyfriend to just be here. He wants to be held, wants to feel whole, wants to feel loved, but he wants all of that from somebody who lives a thousand miles away.

He curls up on his side, phone still clutched in one of his hands like Harley will call him at any second, and cries into his pillow, wishing so badly for something he knows can’t happen.

* “Peter! I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I was busy last night and I forgot to text you. I’m so sorry. Text me and let me know when you’ve got a chance to call though, I probably can’t talk late tonight either. I’ve got news coming in a little bit, but I don’t know how soon I can tell you… I know what you mean about being out of sync lately, but it’ll be okay. Text me? I miss you.”

The voicemail ends, the third time Peter’s listened to it without replying or trying to call Harley. He knows Harley would be on his way to school by now, without data, so there’s no point in trying.

Harley’s voice helps soothe the ache in Peter’s chest just a little bit, but it doesn’t help knowing that the end to this lapse of communication might take weeks, months to sort out. With exams coming up, junior prom, the need to get a summer job, and whatever Harley’s doing in Tennessee, they’re just going to get busier.

“You okay?” May peeks her head into the room, somehow able to sense his misery as quick as if he were still crying.

“Me and Harley haven’t spoken in four days,” Peter admits, staring down at the seemingly harmless text message. Morning darling! Sorry I missed your call. We still on for the Skype session on Sunday?

May’s face softens, slipping into the room to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “That happens. Things happen. It’ll get easier.”

“I want it to be easier now.” He sounds pathetic, whiny, desperate. “I don’t want to wait another year for him, for us.”

Boston feels like a lifetime away, like an untouchable dream. MIT, the two of them together. He’s scared it won’t work out, that going from this long-distance relationship to living together in Boston, going to University together, won’t work out and they’ll have to kiss their relationship goodbye.

“Oh I know you do, honey. I know this is hard, but I know how much you care about Harley and how much he cares about you. You’ll figure this out, I promise.”

The way that she says it makes it sound like letting go is still an option. She says it likes it’s possible for Peter to say goodbye to Harley and move on, take a different path. She says it like Peter could ever break up with Harley.

“I just really wish he were here.”

May kisses the top of his head comfortingly, and Peter loves her, he does, but he wishes nothing more that it was Harley instead.

* MJ and Ned both comment on how strange he’s acting. Daydreaming the time away because his relationship feels like it’s on thin ice, like one wrong move will make the Jenga tower crumble, so he thinks about Boston, about a future, and nothing else. He stares at his phone, at the text messages he doesn’t bother answering, at the voicemails that he knows by heart. It’s been two weeks since he last properly spoke to Harley.

Tony notices it too. “What’s up, kid? Tough day at school? Iron Lad giving you trouble?”

“I’m okay, not a big deal,” he says. Tony doesn’t know and Peter doesn’t want to tell him, not before he talks to Harley first, not that he really thinks telling Tony about a crumbling relationship is a good idea.

His phone rings before Tony can argue with him.

It’s Harley. His silly picture, one he got from his sister, appearing on the screen.

He wants to talk to Harley, he wants nothing more than to ask him to please come to New York, drop everything because Peter’s never wanted to see him more than he does now. But he knows Harley can’t. That’s just the way it is.

So he lets it go to voicemail. He tries not to let the pit in his chest grow anymore than it already has, but it does, longing and cold. It’s hard for him to feel much beyond the longing these days. Harley’s the only thing on his mind, the only one that could help him.

“I think I’m going to go out if that’s okay,” Peter says, voice breaking. He turns his phone on Do Not Disturb and pockets it. “I’ll text you if I need any help.”

Tony doesn’t bother trying to stop him, quickly telling him to be home by curfew and to be safe, before Peter disappears out the door.

He changes in his bedroom, slips out his window, and scales the side of the building to get to the roof.

Iron Lad lands beside him only moments later.

“Hiya, Spidey!” he chirps. “You want backup today?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Peter knows he’s missing the enthusiasm he normally has whenever he talks to Iron Lad. They’ve teamed up frequently over the past couple weeks, and Peter’s been enjoying the nights of solitude when he can leave the safety of Queens up to Iron Lad.

Iron Lad’s tone immediately changes to one of worry and confusion. “Everything okay, Spidey?”

“I miss my boyfriend,” he admits quietly. He hates that he can barely function when he isn’t talking to Harley, that he relies so deeply on their relationship. He sits down on the edge of the roof, feet kicking absentmindedly, and Iron Lad joins him a second later.

The superhero laughs, not unkindly, and nods. “Yeah, I know how you feel. Hey, I know this might be a longshot, but have you ever helped a Peter Parker? He lives around here, works with Tony, goes to Midtown.”

“No!” Peter blurts quickly. How Iron Lad knows him, Peter doesn’t know. He doesn’t recognize the voice, not that he really puts it past him to use a voice modulator, Peter does too. “Why? You know him?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

It feels like the floor falls out from under him, heart hammering in his chest. His fingers hook under the edge of his mask, prepared to throw everything on the line.

“Harley?” His voice is shaking and high, wanting so desperately for it to be him. He doesn’t care about logic or hidden identities or the possibility of Iron Lad being a liar, he doesn’t care because he wants it to be true so badly.

Iron Lad’s faceplate pops open, revealing-

“Oh my god, Harley!”

Peter doesn’t wait another moment, yanking his mask off, curls bouncing around his ears, smile widening until it almost hurts, and tosses his arms around Harley’s shoulders. They nearly fall off the edge of the roof at Peter’s excitement, but Harley rights them, arms winding around Peter’s waist tightly and mouth pressing against his temple.

“Holy fuck, oh my god, I can’t believe this is real,” Harley breathes, mouth brushing against Peter’s skin as he speaks. “You’re real and oh god you smell so good, so much better than I imagined, and I can’t believe you never told me you’re Spider-Man, oh my god.”

The longing, the cold gaping hole in his chest, the pure misery that had settled when the insecurities had crept into his head, it all soothes. Harley’s here, in New York, in Queens, in Peter’s arms. He’s here and he’s real and he’s murmuring his excitement against Peter’s forehead, arms tight and chest warm.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I’m sorry we were so out of sync. I’m so sorry-”

“I’m sorry,” Harley says, pulling away enough to look at Peter. The younger boy nearly starts crying at just how real Harley is, freckles splashed out across his tanned skin, eyes wide and so blue in a way that Peter could never really see over Skype. “I wanted to surprise you. Mom got transferred to the New York branch of her job. I was going to tell you, but between moving here, taking over as the new Iron Man, enrolling in school, and babysitting my sister, I didn’t have the time to surprise you how I wanted to. The dramatic airport scene you wanted. I’m sorry.”

Peter shakes his head, vision blurry with tears and hands trembling as he cups Harley’s face gently. “You’re staying? Like forever?”

“Forever,” Harley promises, smiling through his own tears. “And I know this is soon and crazy and out of euphoria and shock, but I love you, Peter. I love you so much and I couldn’t survive another year without you, you mean too much to me to lose.”

“I love you too. God, I’ve missed you, I’ve been craving this since we got together. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He finally lets himself kiss Harley, slow and sweet, letting himself memorize everything, soothing the last of the ache in his chest. This is all he’s ever wanted.

Peter refuses to let go of Harley, linking their fingers together and sticking without meaning to.

“This is real,” he says, voice thick with emotion, staring unashamedly at Harley and his blue eyes and his freckles and his jawline and his fluffy hair, unable to stop crying no matter how hard he tries.

Harley’s real and here.

Harley grins, boyish and so unbelievably happy, and kisses his breath away.

“It’s real, darlin’.”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #parkner week 2020 #parkner #peter parker #harley keener #iron lad #spiderman #I wrote most of this after an 8hr shift w no sleep so don't judge this lmao #Me?? Writing more online dating AU's?? Pffft

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hysterialevi · 4 years

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Red Dead Rising | Chapter 1

Fanfic summary: 12 YEARS BEFORE RDR2 - Greed, money, and larceny. These are the only things Arthur has ever known; the only things he’s ever been taught. But when Dutch decides to hit a town called Harlow, what started out as nothing more than a plan to rob the local bank ends up igniting the events that lead to RDR2, and a 24 year-old Arthur is forced to confront his morality while the gang faces a terrifying enemy of their own making.

Point of view: third-person

This story is also on AO3 and Wattpad

Next chapter

Author’s note: Well! It’s been a couple months since I last sat down and wrote anything, but it feels good to be writing fanfic again. Please let me know what you think of this first chapter, and I hope you enjoy :) I missed doing this.

SOMEWHERE IN OREGON

APRIL, 1887

“GET BACK HERE, SHAW!” Farley roared over the thunder as he chased the deputy through the pouring rain. “We ain’t done until one of us drops dead!”

The other man frantically hurdled his way over a series of boulders and continued to climb the small mountain, his feet clumsily slipping on the wet rock as he desperately tried to escape his pursuer.

“I-It’s already done, Farley!” The deputy yelled back. “Ain’t nothin’ you can do that’ll change what’s happened!”

“Maybe not!” Ronan conceded. “But that don’t matter. Not anymore. All that matters now is killing you. So get back here and finish what you started, you goddamn snake!”

Storming his way up the steep hill, the ex-sheriff hoisted himself onto a ledge and let out a strained grunt, his fingers practically digging into the solid stone as cold rain streamed down his bloodied face.

Ronan was already drained of all energy just from hunting this man down, and the more he scaled this godforsaken mountain, the more he found himself wanting to give up and simply collapse.

But regardless of how exhausted he grew, or how much his body threatened to break underneath him, Farley absolutely refused to drop. He had already been through so much, and lost everything he ever cared for. His closest friend was dead, his wife was nowhere to be found, and now, the only life he ever knew was crumbling around him all because of one man.

It may have been futile, but nothing was going to stop Ronan from doing what he intended.

Nothing was going to stop him from killing Benjamin Shaw.

Whipping out his pistol, Farley quickly shot the deputy’s abdomen just as he began hugging a corner, causing the man to leave a trail of blood in his wake as he continued to flee.

“…Dammit!” Ronan muttered once he realized he missed. But he wasn’t giving up just yet.

Forcing himself up the ledge, the sheriff carried on with his pursuit and chased after Shaw as he limped towards the mountain’s peak, groaning in agony with every step he took.

By now, the monstrous clouds above them had parted slightly so that they were blanketing the entire region, allowing nothing more than a sliver of sunlight to bleed through as the rest of the land was shrouded in a miserable darkness.

From up here, it was impossible to see any sign of civilization hiding in the vast wilderness beneath them. For just a moment, Ronan felt as if he and Benjamin were the last remaining men on Earth.

There was nothing out here except the two of them. Nothing except two, insignificant killers fighting to the death… all for something that had already been destroyed beyond repair.

It was meaningless, and the world would carry on without them even when they were dead, but killing Benjamin was one of the only two things Ronan gave a damn about anymore -- and by God was he going to do it.

Finally reaching the top of the mountain, Ronan found Deputy Shaw sitting against a lone tree just by the cliff’s edge as he clutched his waist, groaning and cursing to himself while blood continued to stain the grass below.

It seemed unlikely that Benjamin would survive his injuries, but when the conniving man finally noticed Farley’s presence, he did nothing except let out a weak chuckle, his voice slowly faltering in pain.

Shaw smiled at the former sheriff from a distance and laughed, revealing the red-stained teeth he had uttered so many lies through.

“…A-Alright, Farley…” Benjamin panted out, casually raising his hands in defeat. “…You… you got me. Well done, I guess.”

Slowly prowling towards the injured deputy, Ronan kept his gun aimed directly at Shaw’s head and glowered at him with a wounded gaze, trying to conceal the broken man hiding inside.

“Shaw.” The sheriff replied in what was almost a whisper.

He had about a thousand thoughts rushing through his head right now, but none of them reached his mouth. He knew neither what he wanted to say, nor what was worth saying.

And so, Benjamin spoke in his place.

“I-I suppose… you want an explanation…?” The deputy asked. “Is that it?”

Ronan clenched his jaw at the response. “You could say that.”

The sheriff continued, barely speaking in an audible tone. “I treated you fair, Ben. Always did. So why’d you do it? What do you gain from all of this?”

Shaw hung his head low, not even bothering trying to talk his way out of this one.

“Awww… it weren’t nothing personal, Farley. Just business. We have our jobs, after all, and I was just doin’ mine. Trust me. It’s what’s best for my people.”

Ronan picked up on the last statement.

“Your people…?” The sheriff questioned. “And what about Andrew? That poor boy had barely grown into a man before you murdered him. You think this is what’s best for him?”

Benjamin appeared unfazed by that. “Better him than my folks.”

Angered at the reply, Ronan suddenly lurched forward and forcefully grabbed Shaw’s collar, hauling the man’s face closer to his.

“You sick son-of-a-bitch…” Farley nearly growled. “I’d kill you right now if it wasn’t for my wife.” He violently shook Benjamin in his grip. “Where is she, you bastard? What have you done with Annabelle?!”

Shaw choked on the blood gathering in his mouth and let out a series of coughs, eventually spitting the red liquid on the ground.

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout her…” he mumbled out. “She’s in safe hands.”

Ronan yanked him closer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Benjamin looked the sheriff in the eye, repeating his answer. “I said, don’t worry about her, Farley. She’s with my people now. She’s safe.”

Farley remained unconvinced. “And I’m supposed to just believe you?”

The deputy smirked, but in an oddly sincere fashion. “I done told… a lotta lies recently, but that… I promise you. My friends… they’ll take good care of her. It’s what they do. What they’ve always done.”

The sheriff sighed in frustration. “But where is she? Who are ‘your people?”

Benjamin shook his head and gave Ronan an apologetic gaze, keeping his lips tight.

“Oh… now, you know I can’t tell you that, old friend. S’much as I’d like to. It’s… it’s confidential. I’m sure you understand.”

Farley persisted. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

Shaw only grinned at that and patted the sheriff’s fist in a friendly manner as he slipped away, hacking up even more blood.

“…Well, you will. Someday. You’re a smart fella, after all. I mean… you found me, didn’t you?”

Ronan’s tone softened and he gazed at the ground, his expression plastered with regret.

“…So I did. After it was too late.”

Benjamin nodded in understanding, his brow furrowing due to the pain. “Yeah…that’s usually how it goes.”

Realizing that there was nothing he could say or do that would convince Shaw to help him, Ronan finally released the man from his grip and steadily rose from the ground, his coat wildly flapping in the adamant breeze as he reluctantly prepared his pistol.

As much as he hated to admit it, it did pain the sheriff to kill Benjamin. Despite everything he had done in these past couple of weeks, Ronan still hadn’t forgotten the deputy he once called friend, and it certainly didn’t help to lose another familiar face right after saying goodbye to young Andrew.

Farley may’ve despised Shaw with all his heart and hated him for his crimes, but he also didn’t want to destroy the one remaining piece of his past left. There was a warped sense of camaraderie between them, and in a twisted way, it almost made Ronan want to spare him.

…But he knew he couldn’t.

Reloading the gun with one last bullet, Ronan pulled the hammer down and stared helplessly at his old partner, wondering how in the hell he got here.

It wasn’t too long ago that Farley was a respected sheriff in his town, but now… he was no more than an outcast. Just another lost man who had given in to vengeance and betrothed himself to a lifetime of pointless redemption, only to discover that no one gave a damn anyways.

Ronan Farley was already dead, as far as civilization was concerned. He was nothing but a tarnished face whose only legacy would be hushed whispers and cautionary tales.

He had become the very man he once hanged for a living, and the world had forsaken him because of it.

He was alone.

Taking a deep breath, Ronan inched his finger over the trigger and aimed the pistol directly at Benjamin’s head, trying to hide how much his hand was truly trembling.

The only thing that Farley could hear aside from his own heartbeat was the low cracking of the distant thunder and the wretched howling of the wind, both of which filled his head like a wailing phantom.

He was finally ready to carry out what he had come here for, and to live with whatever consequences arrived. He was ready to put all remorse aside.

“Goodbye, Ben,” Ronan said flatly as the day came to an end. “I wish I could say I was sorry.”

Shaw smiled loosely at that and closed his eyes, resting his head against the tree.

“…You really shouldn’t be.” The deputy let out one final, jagged breath. “I just wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

Ronan shook his head and gazed vehemently at the man, softening his tone as the sky began to lighten around them.

“Don’t we all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

EARLIER THAT YEAR

FEBRUARY

HARLAN LAKE, DAWN

Filling the silence of the dying night, a few birds started to sing joyously into the emptiness just as the sun began peeking above the jagged horizon, its vibrant light painting the nearby mountains with a striking salmon color that stood out prominently from the deep, purple atmosphere.

It was rather peaceful at this time of day. Aside from the birds, there wasn’t much activity among the local wildlife at the moment, and the humans inhabiting the area had yet to rouse from their slumber either.

All of their tents were still shut, and the only noises coming from their camp were the distant sounds of content snoring accompanied by the soft crackling of a flickering campfire.

Meanwhile, their horses slept unperturbed under the numerous trees surrounding the vast lake as their leaves rustled in the crisp morning breeze, softly swaying in a way that almost made it look like the forest was breathing.

As for the unseen fish in the lake, a few of them had just started periodically poking their heads above the rippling surface, eager to feed on the insects buzzing around in the air.

But for the moment, everything was calm. Not single thing disturbed the overall peace in the region, and the only person to be ambling about was a distinctive man who was currently making himself comfortable on a stump.

He paid no mind to the nature slowly waking up around him nor to his fellow gang members who still lingered in their dreams, and instead, focused entirely on the peculiar item in his hand.

It was a letter.

And not only that, but a letter from someone he didn’t expect to hear from again. The two of them parted ways a while ago, after all, and he didn’t anticipate the other to contact him so soon.

They seemed quite determined in their plan to meander down a different path in life the last time he saw them, so it was both a pleasant and worrying surprise to see that they were trying to reach out.

Whether it was to ask for help or to officially say goodbye, he didn’t know. He just hoped that everything was alright. There was little to no safety in their line of work, and if anything had happened to his dear friend, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

The man supposed there was no point in delaying the inevitable and hastily unfolded the piece of paper, curious to see the message waiting on the inside:

“Hello, old friend,” the letter began. “It’s Hosea. I know it’s been nearly an entire year since I last contacted you -- and I regret that -- but I’m afraid I’ve hit a wall, Dutch.”

“My life with Bessie -- it’s been going well. We’ve settled down for a bit and tried to squeeze ourselves back into civilization... but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the times I spent with you. And with Arthur.”

“I love Bessie with all my heart, of course. There’s no denying that. In fact, she’s the reason I decided to put the gang behind. I wanted to start a new life with her -- a life away from crime. But after all this time of being separated from you degenerates, I’ve learned that there’s no use in hiding the man I truly am.”

“I was never meant to be a man of civilization. You know that. Being bound by the law feels like wearing a leash around my neck, and frankly, this old boy’s grown tired of it. Needless to say, Bessie ain’t too happy about my choices, but I’ve got something good for you, Dutch. Something you might be interested in. And I’m willing to bet it could help the gang too.”

“Come meet me in New Aubertin at the end of this week. It’s a city to the northwest, accessible by any train station. I’ll send a contact in my stead to greet you just in case the law gets wind of our ideas. Look for a man by the name of Thomas Moreau. I’ve instructed him to wait for you by the pond. He’ll lead you to me. Oh, and one more thing: bring Arthur with you. The boy doesn’t need to be there necessarily, but I miss him dearly. It would be good to see you both again.”

The man flipped the letter to the other side, reading its final sentence.

“...Stay safe, Dutch. We’ve got big plans ahead of us.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #hosea matthews #male ocs #female ocs #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story #rdr2 prequel

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Fifty-Nine: Community ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

“I just...I don’t understand!”

“That’s my point. You don’t. And given your perspective, I’m not sure you ever will.”

“What happened wasn’t the fault of everyone in the village. So why do you blame them?”

“I don’t! I blame them for their complacency! You’ve known the truth since Obito confronted you on the way to Tetsu no Kuni. He told you everything…! What the council, and the Hokage, and Danzō did to my clan. To my brother, to me…! Someone you claim to care about, to understand! But rather than address it - rather than finally come to terms with my goals, and what I needed for closure and justice - it was like you never heard a word. All you cared about was dragging my ass back to Konoha, whether I wanted it or not.”

“Because it’s your home! Your community! Where your friends are! Where your family lived -”

“And died. Or more accurately, were massacred by my own government. No trials, no publicity...just outright murder. You think I wanted to be dragged back to the place where my family was butchered and then sold for parts by Danzō? Where the rest of the council that organized the Uchiha genocide are not only still alive, but in power…? You think I wanted to come back here without any hint of justice? No mention from you, or Sakura, or Kakashi about addressing the massacre. Nothing. Not a word, or a whisper. Because from the time I left, my goals and my pain didn’t matter to you. All that did was your entitlement to my time and person. You call me a friend, but when have you ever done anything to help me accomplish the only goal I’ve had since I was seven years old?”

Naruto, breath heavy with emotion, has no answer.

Sasuke stares back, his own - somehow - calmer. “...you tell me that my friends are here. Maybe they are. But until I get apologies - and action - regarding what befell my clan at the hands of the village you love so much...I can’t call you a friend. My clan was the only thing that mattered to me. Konoha had mistreated them based on the actions of one man for generations. Treated them, at times, as second class citizens. My father’s attempts to have talks regarding the tensions between them were always met with stony silence. He felt he had no choice, for the sake of his people, to rebel against the ones holding them hostage. They held us to Madara’s actions, even as we turned our backs on him and remained loyal to Konoha. Tobirama gave us the police force, but never gave up his suspicion and ire. We were kept in a back corner of the village, separate from everyone. When the Kyūbi attacked, we were blamed. And in the end...we told the truth. It wasn’t us. It was Obito, acting on Madara’s orders. The man we turned against in favor of a village that then never trusted us despite our loyalty. And for that...all but one of us is now dead.

“...I know that the people of Konoha aren’t to blame for the massacre. That lays on the shoulders of four people, two of which are now dead...one of which I had to do myself. So you have a choice, Naruto. You can blindly accept the actions of your village’s council - refuse to do anything to address their crimes - or you can step up and act like the Hokage you want to be. You can look at this injustice, and do something about it.” A dark eye narrows. “...or I will. No more swallowing the truth for Konoha’s benefit. Its foundation is built on the bones of my clan. I will see justice done, one way or another. What side of history do you want to be on?”

“...Sasuke…”

“Until you and the others make up your minds, I don’t want to hear from you. As long as you stand silent on this...you don’t have the right to my time.” Turning on a heel, Sasuke leaves his teammate’s apartment.

He knew it would be pointless. Knew that his team was still too blinded by village loyalty to consider removing the poisoned roots. But on the off chance that he could get some increment of the truth through Naruto’s thick skull, he had to try.

And look where it gets him.

He knows there’s still recovery going on. From the destruction wrought by Pein, from the war...in the grand scheme of things, justice for a crime a decade old - no matter its scale - has to wait.

...but he doesn’t want to wait forever.

Even now, the sting of his team’s inaction and silence after learning what Konoha’s elders had done boils his blood...but he’s working on his temper. Koharu and Homura still have to answer for their actions. Hiruzen and Danzō are dead. Once some kind of justice is done to those who remain...he’ll be satisfied.

...but beyond that, he wants the truth known. The price the Uchiha paid the ultimate price for the stability of the village that betrayed them. He wants every citizen - shinobi and civilian alike - to know just what that stability has cost him. So that it can weigh on them as it weighs on him.

He won’t let this be forgotten. Buried. Lost to time and the sins of a system he will help change.

Outside Naruto’s apartment, the weather has turned overcast, the first few drops of rain beginning to fall as he shuts the door, crouching atop the railing before hopping his way down rooftops and balconies to the street below. It doesn’t bother him. In fact, he finds it more than appropriate.

Even now, the people of Konoha look to him warily, distrust in their eyes. He wonders how those looks will change once they realize what drove him. What still drives him.

...he wonders if they ever will.

Water soon begins to drip from his fringe, the hair bouncing with every release of weight. He doesn’t mind the rain. It’s hardly about to make him ill.

But someone else notices.

“...Sasuke-kun?”

For a sliver of a moment, the name irks him. Sakura still calls him that. But this isn’t Sakura. The tone is far too soft, far more polite than her grating, attention-demanding recitals of his name. Instead, a glance to a nearby shop overhang reveals a growingly-familiar face.

Hyūga Hinata.

Their mutual connections have meant being thrown together rather often since his return a few weeks ago. While she was so unnoticeable before he left he barely knew her, he’s still become aware of how much she’s changed. Possibly the most out of anyone in their year, if he’s to be honest.

“...Hyūga.”

“...um...did you forget an umbrella?”

“Left before I knew I’d need one. It’s not about to kill me.”

“No, but…” Her brow gives a funny little furrow: torn between hesitation and determination. “...would you like to use mine?”

“I’m fine, Hyūga.”

“But -?”

He gives a roll of his eyes alongside a sigh. “...fine. I’m just going home, anyway.”

“O...okay.” Unfurling the thing, she steps up alongside him, and a glance reminds him of how much shorter she is than him. The lavender umbrella is actually fairly wide, and keeps most of the rain off them both.

“Were you...out for a walk?”

“Hm?”

“Well, I just...I noticed you aren’t carrying anything, so…”

“I was visiting Naruto.”

“...oh!”

“It didn’t go well.”

“...oh. I’m...sorry to hear that.”

“He’s just being his typical bullheaded self.” Hinata, as it turns out, is one of the few people most privy to the whole affair. Not that Sasuke minds - if anything, he’s glad to know someone else is aware.

Especially since she’s been a rather vocal voice taking his side.

The Hyūga, after all, are distant relatives of the Uchiha. While he hardly calls them kin, they’re the most similar to his late clan, in both terms of skills and power. And Hinata’s experiences - while hardly to the scale of his own - grant her a unique perspective on the matter...along with an understanding.

She offers a soft sigh. “...may I ask what...was said?”

“He seems to think that I need to relax and just try to adjust back into the village. It’s like he’s not considering my point about the council at all. Something has to be done. I won’t stand for anything less. But it’s like he wants me to just...pretend none of it happened. Waltz around Konoha like I never left. Rejoin the community. Like I can just open up my arms and everything will be how it was. Or...how he thought it was.”

“...Naruto-kun does seem to have a bit of a, um...rose-tinted view of the village’s politics,” Hinata replies, tone a bit dry. “...even after all that happened with the Hyūga, and with Neji-nīsan, he hasn’t approached us about his supposed promise to help us reform the branched clan policy. It’s been Neji and I heading that front. It can’t and w-won’t be so easy for you to adjust back to life in the village...especially when the people responsible for your clan’s genocide are still walking free.”

“Exactly.”

Her gaze averts downward. “...I’m sorry. I w-wish there was a way to make this easier. It’s been said been said before, but...please don’t forget that the Hyūga are with you. We’re prepared to help whatever way we can. But...we can’t act on our own. The other clans need to be made aware. Otherwise...I’m afraid the revelation will spark panic and mistrust.”

“As it should, honestly,” Sasuke mutters. “An entire clan was wiped out without fair trial or a proper audience. Any other clan, should they ever have a grievance severe enough, could be next. Of course...none of them have the relationship with the long-standing Senju-biased power in Konoha that my clan did. But once they know what happened...it’ll be a very real concern.”

“Exactly. So...we have to handle this delicately. But...that does still mean we have to handle it.”

By now, the pair have wandered out toward the clan districts, the Hyūga gates coming up first. The Uchiha clan no longer has a gate: just a large, empty field where the land was re-leveled after Pein’s assault, sans for the house Sasuke’s been built.

After a brief silence, Hinata offers, “...I’m sure Naruto-kun and the others will c-come around. It’s just...complicated. I’m sure they want justice for you. But...we all have our other strings attached we h-have to account for.”

Sasuke sighs. “...I know. But until it’s made known, I’ll never just fit in the way Naruto wants me to. To everyone but a handful, I’m a criminal and a traitor only pardoned due to my ties to the Rokudaime and the village hero.”

Her expression falls. “...it isn’t fair. But...w-we’ll get there. And...hopefully we can help this community rebuild, in ways b-better than it was before. Konoha isn’t perfect, and...addressing its wrongs and shadows is important to help us more forward into a new era of peace. For all of us.”

For some reason, her words seem to really resound in his chest. All of us. Meaning him, too. Rebuild the community...hm…

An idea worming its way into his head, he comes to a stop with her at the Hyūga gate. “...thanks for listening.”

“Any time, Sasuke-kun. Do you...want to take my umbrella with you?”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks. It’s not much further.”

“All right. If you need anything...don’t hesitate to ask, ne?”

For a brief moment, a corner of his mouth flickers. “...I’ll keep that in mind.”

“...enjoy your evening, Sasuke-kun.”

“You too.”

Watching her head into the compound, he then turns and makes to conquer the last distance before home. He feels a lot...calmer now. Funny how talking with her always seems to do that, even if they really don’t talk that much.

...maybe that’s sort of the point.

Still...her words about working on Konoha’s interior have the cogs in his mind turning. There might be something to that...but, one step at a time.

.oOo.

A bit more of my 'canon' verse cuz...that was the first thing to come to mind with this one! My interpretation for Sasuke in this verse is not just all sunshine and rainbows with his team after the war. I, for one, CANNOT accept the Uchiha massacre just being swept under the rug the way it is in 700+. Cuz let's be real, a boy - man - who fought for justice for more than half his life, for a decade, wouldn't just shrug off genocide because his friend wants him to forget and just...go back and play house with his team that has, in all reality, done very little to support him and justice for his clan even AFTER learning the truth. Hence doing things my way ;3 (And just as a heads up / reminder, no, I don't debate my view of things in comments, be it plot or characterization or relationships between characters. This is my interpretation. You're free to yours. Debating said topics is not what I'm here to do, since I've gotten some rather confrontational comments on the subject before, lol. This is a fanfic, not a forum for discussion. No likey, take hikey.) ANYWHO, it's late, and I gotta head to bed! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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ask-my-hero-maite · 4 years

Text

Tough Work

It was another outing for the senior sidekicks. There was nothing better than getting off campus and getting on the field with the big leagues. Of course, this would’ve been a dream for Enrique, if he was paired with a more ideal partner.

Tamara walked alongside him, barely even then, as she kept her distance. The two were forced to patrol together for the day, and it was equally a nightmare for both time breakers. While not having the complete supervision of a pro was nice, having the supervision of their respective twin was worse.

Enrique hummed... then grumbled... then sighed. All these noises were staring to wear Tamara out.

“Could you stop that?” she remarked.

“What??? I’m just breathing.”

“Ahuh.”

“Fine. I’ll hold my breath.”

What was about to be another petty argument was quickly interrupted by an alert to one of their tracers. Tamara quickly swooped for hers.

“Anomali, there seems to be a break in at one of the Corps. Villain spotted. Can you and Flashpass get there quick?” the voice emitted across.

“Yes, on our way,” she replied and turned to Enrique.

He sighed, “Wish they called me more.”

In a flash, he picked her up and quickly made it to the location, his quirk taking him far in a minute. They arrived, already noticing something was wrong. A hole in the outer shell of the building indicated a struggle to get in.

“This is just a lab... so why here?” Tamara pointed out.

“Hell if I know. They’re just making statements now.”

“It feels like it’s just getting worse...” she paused for a second but quickly snapped back, “I’ll head inside, you get in position in case they make an escape.”

“But I can-“

She glared at him.

“Stop trying to argue and go!”

Once her last rebuttal was out, she ran off to get inside the building.

Enrique scoffed again and easily found a vantage point, scaling with fire escapes on the adjacent building and keeping an eye on the source of entry.

“Break-ins left and right... possible moles... crime rate spiking...” he held his hands behind his head and sighed.

He opened his eyes again and noticed movement from the corner of his eye, alerting him. It wasn’t even from the makeshift entry point, but from a door below. Where trucks would pool in to make rounds, a figure now roamed. The person walked out with such confidence, like they did nothing wrong. He squinted, seeing their mask and immediately knowing who it was.

Point Zero, a Cloak-and-Dagger aligned informant. The hardest to catch thanks to her disintegration quirk. She is a familiar face.

“Damnit, now you’re getting bolder, too?”

He signaled Tamara again, leaning over the edge, ready to engage.

“I got eyes on Zero. Seems the mouse is back.”

“Wait for me!-“

“Too late! Already jumping!”

He jumped down to the next level, quickly scaled below, and once he was close enough, ejected the rollerblades of his boots. He sped up, aiming to make this a quick take down, but this villain knew the game. In a quick turn, she whipped around and instinctively swung at him.

He pulled back quickly, holding up his arms in a stance.

“Careful. She could disintegrate me easily.”

He looked at her balled up hand, seeing a vial in a compartment hidden away.

“Sorry, but imma need that thing there.”

“You want this?” She tilted her head, “Funny, so do I.”

He smirked, “Alright.”

He disappeared into his own blur again, circling around her and leaving no way to run away. She tried, but each time felt a jab to a weak spot and forced to huddle back again.

Panic rose in the villain, and she ducked, folding her hands over herself, bracing for any attack. She looked into the blur, hoping for an opportunity; with one deep breath, she finally engaged.

A crackling sound echoed around, then a loud shatter and an even louder cry. Enrique rolled off to the side, gritting his teeth and groaning in pain as the debris kicked up from his sliding. His hand was clamping onto his ankle, and he noticed the prickling source of his pain: Shards of glass that had probed their way into his foot. Like someone had melted his shoe and broke it.

Wait!

He looked back, seeing Zero had already ran off.

His attempt to get back up to chase the runaway villain came to a halt once his vision become spotty. His drawback’s effects started to kick in, now that he was maxing-out to stop the bleeding and to heal his aggravated wound. Not pleasant but it was effective.

Footsteps grew louder before a gasp sounded behind him.

She ran up to him.

“You’re bleeding! What happened???”

She reached down to help him up, but he swatted away her hand in a huff.

“The rat used her quirk on my boot and it shattered on me,” he winced again, “Just help.”

She looked at his wound again, hesitating, but then noticed his condition was quickly depleting as he was forcing his quirk to max out to heal.

“Oh, alright.”

She pulled out a small spray bottle from an aid-pack attached to her belt. A smirk now grew on her face: She wasn’t letting this go.

“Don’t cry when I pull out the glass though.”

“No promises.”

#storyline #ic #oc #tw: blood #tw: injury #enrique cayacoa machado || flashpass #tamara cayacoa machado || anomali #villain point zero #ask my hero maite

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taronfanfic · 5 years

Text

Promise - Part 2

“It’s a good job I love you.” Taron said as he shook his head with a slight disbelief at how the night had turned out. You gave him a coy smile back from the other side of the taxi and reached out your hand into the centre seat, offering it out for him to take. He slid his palm into yours and then linked his fingers. “You’re such a fucker… know exactly which buttons to press to really piss me off.”

“Likewise.”

“Nah come on, they’re not even remotely on the same scale.” Taron tried to laugh it off, but his inability to apologise to you didn’t go unnoticed.

“What? You’re saying I shouldn’t have been pissed off with you?”

“Not really, because I had a point.” You sharply withdrew your hand from his as you felt your face drop into sheer annoyance. “That was a red carpet event price tag for a very much private party with a load of film crew and extras!”

“Yeah and you fucking told me to treat myself. I’m sorry for wanting to get dressed up so we could spend the night being loved up after having very little time together these past few months. Apparently that’s a crime these days…”

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“No, I’m not having it, T.”

“But I’m meant to sit here and accept that you were all over Richard tonight? He’s my best mate, Y/N. Do you know how that looked to everyone else there?”

“I don’t care, I had a lot of fun with Rich.”

“Rich…” Taron scoffed back. “You barely know him.”

“I know him a lot better after tonight.” You continued to deliberately provoke Taron. “Strong hands and arms… very nice bum, and those dreamy eyes…”

“Stop. Just fucking stop!” Taron hit his fist against the door of the taxi before letting out a loud sigh of frustration.

The silence fell sharply for the rest of the journey home. You made your way inside and up the stairs to the bedroom where you continued to ignore each other. Your dress was left on the floor, teeth cleaned, make-up removed and then you pulled one of Taron’s old t-shirts over your head before climbing into your side of the bed. Taron was already beneath the covers, lying on his side and facing away from you. Sleeping with the atmosphere between you felt horrible but you didn’t know what to say. All you wanted was to be back in his arms, feeling warm and loved, but you weren’t sure that he’d accept an apology this late on.

As you turned over to face the centre of the bed you started to lightly trace a finger across the back of Taron’s shoulders and then up to the hairs at the back of his neck. When he didn’t flinch away from your touch you moved yourself in closer to him and stroked your hand down his back and over his hip as you pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I love you.”

Taron placed his hand over yours and pulled it down to his soft stomach so you were fully spooning him. You placed another kiss to his back as you ran your fingertips up through the back of his hair.

“I’ve just missed you and wanted to make tonight special, but instead I fucked it all up. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” He replied as he started to shift his weight and turn onto his back so you were draped down his side instead, legs now intertwined. “Money doesn’t matter to me, but seeing you be happy does. It just hurt to see you having fun without me tonight.”

“You know I’d have rather spent the night with you, that dress was for you.”

“You looked incredible.” Taron lifted your hand and placed it down over his heart.

“I wish you’d have told me that earlier… but as far as replacements go, Richard’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“I know.” Taron laughed softly. “Easy to fall in love with those eyes, isn’t it?”

“Very, but his bum doesn’t come remotely close to yours.”

“That’s good to know.” Taron turned his face closer to yours and let you place a loving kiss to his lips. “I like that Rich likes you too, that you get along well.”

“He was lovely, and just wanted us to sort things out. I did apologise for using him like that too.”

“It’s ok, he knew… he knew it would work too!”

“So did I.” You grinned cheekily.

“Fuck you.” Taron smiled widely as he moved over you and held you tightly between his thighs. It was exactly where you’d wanted to be for weeks and as you stared up into his eyes you felt the rush of excitement descend through your body at what was about to happen. He placed one hand to the side of your face as he leant in to kiss you deeply. His tongue danced with yours as the kiss lengthened, never breaking apart even when your hands started to roam up and down his skin. Eventually you moaned and pulled away as Taron’s hand slipped between your thighs and went straight for your clit with an intense pressure.

“Fuck, Taron.” You moaned out as you closed your eyes and tired to spread your legs wider.

“You like that?” He asked seductively before dropping his lips to your neck as he continued to massage your nub. More moans left your chest in response, your hand clinging on to Taron’s shoulder as you bucked your hips up against his fingers.

“Please,” You begged “Taron… I need you. I want you.” Wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck you pulled him in to your lips and kissed him roughly. “This is how I wanted tonight to end.”

“Me too.”

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” Your words were broken by quick kisses being shared and as Taron heard the L word he couldn’t help but smile and press his body and lips in tighter against yours.

“I love you more, now take this off.” He instructed happily as he tugged at the neck of the t-shirt you were wearing before climbing off you and pulling his boxers down his thighs. There was only chance to look him up and down once before he was back on you and helping to get you naked. You lifted your arms in the air as he pulled your t-shirt up and over your head, then wrapped them around his neck so you could spend more time kissing him. Making out was almost the best part of post-argument sex. You felt his hands lower to your bum and lift you up so your legs could wrap around his hips; then he flipped you over so you were on top and in control.

“Hello handsome,” You commented with a smirk from your new position above him. “You ready for me?”

“So ready.” He hummed in response, wrapping his arms around your back as you lowered your chest to his and started to kiss him again. The friction felt warm between your legs as you ground your hips back and forth against Taron’s stiff cock. He moaned softly as he dragged your lip out between his teeth and let his hands lower from your back to your arse. There was a playfulness to him tonight that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was fleeting feelings of jealousy still lingering from seeing you with Richard. Either way you loved it so rewarded him by guiding his length into you without too much teasing.

“I’d almost forgotten how good you feel.” You sighed happily as you sat up and placed both hands flat on Taron’s chest as you started to ride him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he replied as he watched you with lust filled eyes. “I’ve missed you, and I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Shhh.” You placed a single finger to his lips and smiled down as he kissed it lightly before sucking it into his mouth, nipping you softly on the way out. “I love it when you’re like this.”

“I just wanna kiss you and bite you all over… I can’t help it.” He sat up as you ran your fingers through the top of his hair to leave him dishevelled, then leant in to kiss you deeply again. It caused your rhythm to slow as you focused on the kiss and the feel of his palm pressing firmly against the small of your back. Things had switched from playful to intimate in a matter of seconds and you didn’t want to part from Taron’s body for the rest of the night. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as you circled your hips and rocked slowly into him. Before long the only noises filling the room were heavy breaths and muffled moans between loud kisses. Your bodies were warm and starting to sweat with the heat between you, but Taron only pulled you in tighter as he tried to get deeper into you.

“Oh god,” You moaned as you let the feelings take over. “This is so good.”

“I’m close.” He breathed back against your ear. “So close.” Hearing him whisper those words to you was heavenly. Knowing that that was a moment that only you shared with him; only you made him feel that way. The rest of the night didn’t matter.

“I’m there.” You replied as you felt yourself let go and come in his arms with a pleasure filled sigh. Taron smiled into your shoulder as you rode your orgasm out and set his off in the process. You felt him tense beneath you and then heard his moan despite his efforts to contain it against your skin as he locked his lips to your shoulder. As you stilled you moved a hand to the back of Taron’s head and kept him held close as you teased your fingers through his hair softly.

“As much as I hate it when we fight, the sex after is something else.”

“Especially when it’s been so long,” You agreed. “We’re definitely having morning sex tomorrow.”

Requests: If you were not too busy, could you make me a smutty fanfic about Taron and I getting into a big fight and ending us making out? & Hellllooo so i was wondering if u could do one where taron is mad at the reader for some reason and stops talking to her for the day and they go out for dinner with his costars or something and the reader makes him jealous by being flirtatious and once they get home taron fucks the reader love ur writing

Tag list: @egerton-sweetie @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie@leanimal90@anantheminmyheart22@aynsleywalker@bohemianrhapsody86@butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron@livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover@ohsosmutty@misspygmypie @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr@baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow@witchymarvelspacecase@samanthasmileys@nellietara @i-cant-remember-my-old-login@wheresmylightinthedark

#Taron Egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton fanfic

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intransigent-boy · 4 years

Photo

My Top Ten Films of The Decade.

10. Her

Okay, so whether you like it or not, this movie is about the present. This movie tells a very powerful story with an embarrasingly personal narrative. You feel sorry for the main character, it makes you so uncomfortable. And the reason is, because we are all in some sense are like this guy, Theodore. We have better relationships online, and with our advices, than with real people. It’s a really bizarre conception, but we should face it, and ask ourselves: Where is the limit? The script is just brilliant, but also has very controversial scenes. Joaquin Phoenix is simply the perfect choice for a lonely man, like Theodore. Melancholy everywhere, and great visuals. Arcade Fire made the music for this, and it was pure melancholy. Very interesting film.

9. The Place Beyond The Pines

Derek Cianfrance is an exceptional director. He can wonderfully create an atmosphere with great lighting techiques, unique musics, and of course with talented actors. This movie has a linear, but quite unusual story-structure. The main theme haunts you after you watched this. Legacy!

8. Nightcrawler

Louis Bloom is something of a loner who is unemployed and ekes out a living stealing and then reselling copper wire, fencing and most anything else he can get his hands on. When late one night he comes across an accident being filmed by independent news photographer Joe Loder, he thinks he may have found something he would be good at. He acquires an inexpensive video camera and a police scanner and is soon spending his nights racing to accidents, robberies and fire scenes. He develops a working relationship with Nina Romina, news director for a local LA TV station. As the quality of his video footage improves so does his remuneration and he hires Rick, young and unemployed, to work with him. The more successful he becomes however, the more apparent it becomes that Louis will do anything - anything - to get visuals from crime scenes. The conception is just brilliant, and screams to your face, what kind of society are we living in. I think Psychopathy is going to be one of the biggest issue in our generation asides with mental illneses. And this movie reflects perfectly. You understand the character, which is geniusly performed by Jake Gyllenhaal.

7. Inside Llewyn Davis

The Coen brothers' exquisitely sad and funny new comedy is set in a world of music that somehow combines childlike innocence with an aged and exhausted acceptance of the world. It is a beguilingly studied period piece from America's early-60s Greenwich Village folk scene. Every frame looks like a classic album cover, or at the very least a great inner gatefold – these are screen images that look as if they should have lyrics and sleeve notes superimposed. This film was notably passed over for Oscar nominations. Perhaps there's something in its unfashionable melancholy that didn't hook the attention of Academy award voters. But it is as pungent and powerfully distinctive as a cup of hot black coffee. This movie is about sacrificing everything for your art, directionlessness (is there such a word?) , and finding the right path. Existential theme, with surpisingly good acting from Oscar Isaac, Adam Driver, and Justin Timberlake. This is an Odyssey-story from the 1960′s America. What more you could ask for?

6. Dunkirk

Reinventing a genre is quite exceptional. And Nolan did it. The best war movies of the last 20 years, including Saving Private Ryan and Hacksaw Ridge, have also placed viewers in the centre of battle. Nolan has not reinvented that immersive approach, but he comes close to perfecting it. The story structure is-again- brilliant. There’s no main character in the movie-just like in a war-but only scared people. They want to go home. But they can’t. We’re with them with their struggle, and fears. We’re in the air, land, or water, it’s just a haunting terror. And the soundtrack from Hans Zimmer is really remarkable. You hear it, and you recognize the movie. That’s what I call a score. Reflects perfectly, and holds the attention throughout the whole movie.

5. Hell or High Water

Another genre-twister masterpiece. This Neo-Western is just pure art. Hell or High Water is a film about a criminal who commits the ultimate offence of putting his gorgeous and much nicer brother in a ski mask for several minutes of this film. Okay actually it’s about a career criminal brother and his he-wasn’t-but-he-is-now criminal brother who team up to commit a series of small-scale bank robberies across Texas, with the aim, finally – after several generations – of lifting the family out of seemingly inescapable grinding poverty. The part of Texas they live in is dying on its feet so career criminal is pretty much the only career left open that doesn’t involve serving in a diner or herding the few remaining cattle. It would’ve been easy for Hell or High Water to to turn out a cliche-ridden double bromance as there are quite a few movie tropes in this love story / revenge thriller, so it’s a tribute to director David Mackenzie that it’s actually a very touching, at times funny, at times quite brutal story. With a bit of grudge-bearing thrown in at the end to stop it being too redemptive. Memorable scenes, great acting, and a deromanticized western-feeling. After this film, you want to live in Texas, where everything’s slower, but sometimes you can chase criminals. It’s nice, isn’t it?

4. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh’s fiercely written, stabbingly pleasurable tragicomedy stars a magnificent Frances McDormand; watching it is like having your funny bone struck repeatedly, expertly and very much too hard by a karate super-black-belt capable of bringing a rhino to its knees with a single punch behind the ear. He’s a scriptwriter genius, it was shocking, how perfectly the dialouges and the actions were constructed. It is a film about vengeance, violence and the acceptance of death, combining subtlety and unsubtlety, and moreover wrongfooting you as to what and whom it is centrally about. The drama happens in a town with an insidiously pessimistic name – Ebbing, Missouri, a remote and fictional community in the southern United States, where the joy of life does seem to be receding. There is a recurrent keynote of elegiac sadness established by the Irish ballad The Last Rose of Summer and Townes Van Zandt’s country hit Buckskin Stallion Blues, a musical combination which bridges the Ireland which McDonagh has written about before and the America he conjures up here, an America which has something of the Coen Brothers. The resemblance is not simply down to McDormand, though she does give her best performance since her starring role as the pregnant Minnesota police chief in the Coens’ Fargo in 1996. It was brutal, controversial, and violent.

3. Midnight in Paris

The definitive poem in English on the subject of cultural nostalgia may be a short verse by Robert Browning called “Memorabilia.” The past seems so much more vivid, more substantial, than the present, and then it evaporates with the cold touch of reality. The good old days are so alluring because we were not around, however much we wish we were. “Midnight in Paris,” Woody Allen’s charming film, imagines what would happen if that wish came true. It is marvelously romantic, even though — or precisely because — it acknowledges the disappointment that shadows every genuine expression of romanticism. The film has the inspired silliness of some of Mr. Allen’s classic comic sketches (most obviously, “A Twenties Memory,” in which the narrator’s nose is repeatedly broken by Ernest Hemingway), spiked with the rueful fatalism that has characterized so much of his later work. Nothing here is exactly new, but why would you expect otherwise in a film so pointedly suspicious of novelty? Very little is stale, either, and Mr. Allen has gracefully evaded the trap built by his grouchy admirers and unkind critics — I’m not alone in fitting both descriptions — who complain when he repeats himself and also when he experiments. Not for the first time, but for the first time in a while, he has found a credible blend of whimsy and wisdom.

2. Beautiful Boy

This supersensitive and tasteful movie is all but insufferable, suppressing a sob at the tragedy of drug addiction afflicting someone so young and “beautiful”. It is based on what is effectively a matching set of memoirs: Beautiful Boy, by author and journalist David Sheff, his harrowing account of trying to help his son Nic battle crystal meth addiction, and Tweak – by Nic Sheff himself, about these same experiences, the author now, thankfully, eight years clean. Steve Carell does an honest, well-meaning job in the role of David and the egregiously beautiful Timothée Chalamet is earnest in the part of Nic, David’s son from his first marriage. This is like a modern-day Basketball Diaries. Honest, and Raw. Most underrated movie of the 2010′s, with an unquestionably important topic.

1. The Social Network

Before Sorkin wrote the screenplay, Ben Mezrich wrote the book based on Mark Zuckerberg and the founding of Facebook titled: The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, A Tale of Sex, Money, Genius, and Betrayal. It was published in July 2009, and most of the information came from Facebook “co-founder” Eduardo Saverin, who in the film is played by Andrew Garfield. The screenplay that Sorkin wrote was blazing, he wrote the characters like they were in a William Shakespeare play, with a story full of lies, jealousy, and betrayal. I especially love how Sorkin balanced the story between 2003, 2004, and then 2010. It goes back and forth between the past when Facebook was just an idea for Mark, and in the current day when he is being sued by Cameron & Tyler Winklevoss for, in their minds, having stolen their original idea, and by his former best friend Eduardo for having him pushed out of the company. In fact, some of the very best dialogue (and the film is full of great quotes) happens during the deposition scenes. Well-recognizable, rapid-fire dialouges, wonderful directing, with Trent Reznor’s greatest soundtrack. The movie’s probably going to outlive the Facebook itself, and that’s just great.

#oscars #films #academyawards #2010s #best #movies #cinema #art #top ten #movies of the decade #soundtrack #cinematography

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fae-fucker · 5 years

Text

Zenith: Chapter 29-32

I realize leaving y’all hanging for a whole year like that in the snark, where our beloved heroes Andi and Dex had just been shot in their empty little heads, was very cruel of me. You guys must’ve been just DYING to know what happened.

Quick recap: Andi & Co are space pirates. They are captured by Andi’s ex Dex and the father of Andi’s childhood friend, whom she “murdered” by landing a ship bad. He asks her to get his son, who is in a dank dark prison. Andi does the thing with the help of Dex and her ragtag bunch of generic archetypes.

We good?

Let’s go.

Chapter 29

We interrupt the 100% totally real threat of Andi and Dex being shot to death to have another boring-ass moment with Nor. She walks around in an underground lab feeling sorry for herself and thinking about how tragic her backstory is. We’re introduced to a two-headed scientist who could’ve been interesting in the hands of actually talented authors, but who doesn’t appear in the book after this point so she’s wasted. For some reason she’s also referred to as one person when the heads are clearly different individuals? Irl when there are two heads sharing one body the heads are different people with different names. You know, because the person is stored in the brain? Idk why Shinsay did this.

“Slowly, you dolt!” the right head screeched to the left.

The left head huffed in annoyance. “I’m merely trying to give our queen a glimpse of her new toy.”

“It’s a wonder I’ve been able to put up with you all these years,” the right head retorted.

“You haven’t a choice, my dear,” the left said back.

I think this is supposed to be funny, but all I can think if is how everyone’s dialogue sounds exactly the same.

We find out that this is where Nor’s people are developing the titular Zenith (except it’s not named yet, spoilers), and Nor wants to know if they’ve made any progress.

The two-headed scientist, Aclisia, says that the weapon is ready and that they only need a test subject. Did they develop this mind-altering thing without any previous test subjects? I mean I guess it makes sense that they’d need somebody unaffected by previous versions to test out the final product, but like ... Did the previous subjects die? That doesn’t bode well.

Anyway, the test subject they have is one of the guards on Lunamere, where Andi and Dex were in the previous chapters. Nor is displeased that the guard “let them go,” and I want you to remember this line:

“You had one of the Unified System’s most wanted fugitives in my prison. And instead of keeping her there, where she could have been persuaded to join the right side of the galaxy...you lost her. [...]”

File that away for future reference, my pretties.

Anyway, we end the chapter without even finding out what the drug does, because Shinsay love breaking their own pace and suspense because they have to rely on cliffhangers to keep people reading.

Chapter 30

Oh Christ oh God it’s our girl Klaren again. It’s year twenty-four and despite five years passing this woman is still all about how she’s destined to die and everything in her life is crap, which, idk, mood I guess?

Xen Ptera is losing the war and Klaren is sick because of all the poison air or whatever. The king wants her to hide because enemy troops are closing in, and Klaren takes another moment to think about how she wasn’t supposed to fall in love and yadda yadda.

Who’s ready for another Smaasism?

She wished she could go back. She wished she could change that passionate night they had shared, the careless days after and the tonic she’d forgotten to take...

tOnIC

You’d think in advanced space times they’d have more reliable birth control.

Also ... wouldn’t the king expect an heir anyway? Like, we’ve seen that even the title of “general” is inherited in this shitfest of a universe, so wouldn’t he eventually catch on and insist on having a kid? Or if she claimed she couldn’t produce one, surely there would be tech to get around that? Idk. For all the future-sight this bitch had, she sure didn’t have any common sense.

Klaren tells the king to take Nor and fuck off, and Darai says something about how she’s the strongest Yielded and how she must fulfill her duty.

Which apparently includes going into the battlefield, which is conveniently right outside the palace, and mind-control General Cortas into wanting to fuck her so bad he forgot she was his enemy.

Her husband was wrong.

Hope was not dead.

Hope, in the form of the queen’s sacrifice, had only just flickered to life.

This is framed as tragic and beautiful but she is about to mind-rape a man for years soooo get ready for some extremely uncomfortable shit.

Chapter 31

We’re back in Andi’s POV, except it’s still a fucking flashback. This time it’s to when Andi was still Kalee’s Spectre and lived with Valen and the other dingdongs. And then we get actually good writing?

During meals, when Andi and the other Spectres stood guard, she’d watch him curiously. Valen usually sat in the farthest seat from his father, hunched forward as if he were battling some deep, silent pain. Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her with his strange, unblinking hazel eyes, his paint-stained fingers gripping his golden fork like a weapon he didn’t want to use.

Like I’m into this. It’s showing and not telling, mysterious and intriguing without being on the nose, and for once Andi doesn’t have all the cards and knows what Valen is inside and out, so his character doesn’t become obvious. Like, he’s battling some pain, but he’s also reluctant to use a weapon? That could mean anything! In a good way!

This good chunk is also immediately ruined by the following descriptions, which point out that indeed, all the other kids talk about Valen and how WEEEEYOOORDDD he is, and how he’s constantly covered in paint, because that’s what artists look like, I guess. Catch me bodyslamming a freshly painted park bench to prove I know color theory.

We’re also told that Valen never got a personal Spectre for spooooooky reasons. He just doesn’t feel like a proper part of the family, ya know? I wonder that it all could meeeeaaaaaan.

This is all told to us just so we can revisit the part where Valen tries to stop Andi and Kalee from going on a joyride. Kalee insults him for a bit, and then Valen drops some more foreshadowy dialogue about how he hopes this birthday is everything Kalee wants it to be.

Subtle.

Chapter 32

OH MY GOD WE’RE IN LIRA’S POV NOW. YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE SHINSAY, WE KNOW YOU WOULDN’T MURDER YOUR PRECIOUS CELAENA AND RHYSAND RIPOFFS IN CHAPTER 29 WHEN THERE’S A BILLION MORE CHAPTERS LEFT.

Lira has been literally counting seconds since they left Andi.

Yeah.

She recaps everything that happened three chapters ago, saying they executed their secret plan with the “ultimate amount of finesse” before noting that despite obeying Andi’s direct orders to run, she feels like a traitor.

Your captain is in chains, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. You should be by her side. Instead, you’re running.

All you ever do is run.

I have literally no idea how this is even a little bit relevant considering that they’re waiting for Andi and Dex to return and aren’t moving anywhere. By the way, Andi and Dex are thirty minutes late. Which freaks Lira out because THAT WASN’T IN THE PLAN.

Her scales start freaking out and she’s about to overheat. Holy shit, how are you still alive?

Honestly, this is a pretty accurate depiction of someone with an anxiety disorder, but I think we’re supposed to think Lira is emotional or analytical or loyal or whatever. I doubt Shinsay have the finesse required to write something like this on purpose, so this just reads as incompetence.

Apparently Andi said that if they’re late, the girls are supposed to flee and save themselves, and Lira is starting to get antsy.

Ok so ... just moments ago you were worried about how you’re always running away. So why is your first instinct when your beloved captain is THIRTY MINUTES LATE to book it? Like. Calm the fuck down. Thirty fucking minutes, in space? Can you chill???

Lira whines more about how this is the second time this week that she’s second-in-command and she hates it. Hey why not give that responsibility to Breck, who’s always calming everyone down? Would that make too much sense?

Lira goes to her room to mope and angst about how she likes being alone. It’s riveting. She thinks about how this crew is her SOUL and how much she LOVES them. Which we can see by her sitting alone in her room thinking about how much she loves them, obviously.

She continues to angst about how her dad died of Space Plague, and her mom became a drunk because ... Idk, that’s what moms do in books like these. But lo, she and her brother got taken in by their Cool Aunt, who then wanted them to Do Things when they grew up, and Lira doesn’t want to Do Things, she wants to fly around and Crime.

So she left her home planet because her Cool Aunt wanted her to Do Too Much Stuff, and the weight of her expectations crushed Lira, who must soar the skies like the beautiful bald blue bird she is.

The other girls interrupt this godawful exposition dump by inviting Lira to play some Not!Pokémon. And we get this exchange, which I included in my review, and yes, it’s real:

“Hope is a raging asshole,” Gilly said.

“Explain to me, Gilly,” Breck said with a sigh, “how exactly can an asshole rage?”

Lira choked on a sudden, unexpected laugh. “I swear, the two of you. You were both born with my brother’s sarcastic soul.”

This bloated and repetitive nonsense that apparently passes for character development is interrupted by Alfie, who’s gotten out of the waste bay. We’re reminded that this ship doesn’t have any mechanics, because of course, and Alfie makes a reference about how the ship’s AI’s voice is turning him on.

It appears Lira has gotten a message from Soy to come and get Andi and Dex.

*sigh*

#eff reads: zenith

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