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tardis-ghost-blog · 3 years

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Did that feel real to you? (Simm!Master x Reader)

Rating: E For explicit sexual content Summary: The Master and you share a dream. Literally.

-0oOo0oOo0oOo0-

Ever since he had found out that being near you caused the drums to be a tad bit quieter, the Master had hired you as his personal assistant. Most of the time you only had to tidy up on the Valiant now, or make him tea. And in return you allowed him to connect your minds every so often.

At first it had been a strange, almost frightening experience, but after a few times you came to enjoy it. Nothing was happening, you two only sat there, the Master with his hands around your head and sometimes his forehead on yours. And sometimes you just watched his face becoming calmer, peeked at his lips that were so close to yours...

You had quickly found out about the drums and about his origin. You also learned that he could become downright insane if the sound in his head became too loud. And those times frightened you, because you could never be sure what might happen.

So when he came in that day and you spotted his deranged look, you were already about to quickly leave the room. But he grabbed you, tried to drag you back into the room and managed. You still wanted to get away, only help him later, when things had calmed down.

But the Master caught you again, pushed against your shoulders, making you drop backwards, where your knee pits hit against something. You got out of balance, fell over the sofa rest and onto the soft fabric. The Master rushed to you, his eyes were dark, clouded by madness. Hastily you got to your elbows and crawled backwards a bit, but he was already at your side, knelt in front of the sofa to grab your head within in hands.

"Make it quiet," he demanded and brushed his mind against yours, not waiting for your barriers to loosen, but simply tearing them down.

You couldn't hold back a sob as you felt his energy surging through your head. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, but one that made you feel so horribly vulnerable. And it drained you like nothing you had ever experienced before. The few times you had shared minds hadn't been that intense, not that forceful. Not so desperate.

Tiredness overcame you, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A silent battle, you lying stretched out on that sofa, him kneeling next to you, shivering as if it were ice cold in the room. The image faded, slipped away into a black void.

"'M sorry," you heard the Master whisper, his voice strangely clear and free of the previous madness. "I need this. Just for a while."

Him apologizing... that was a first. But you no longer felt drained, only wanted to sit there for another while with closed eyes.

"You could have just asked," you mumbled back and felt weirdly... light.

Why were you sitting anyway? Just now you had been lying on your back. When your eyes opened, you found yourself suddenly in a completely different place. Perplex you looked around the silent forest, dense green spread all around you, soft grass grew under your fingers. The Master sat next to you, hands clawed into his hair. Some moments later he relaxed, threw his head back to sigh out a painful breath.

"Master?" you asked. "What... is this? Where are we?"

He looked back and opened his lids, blinking tiredly at you, then your surroundings. His eyes widened in mild surprise. "Huh? Mhm... right. Seems like I... slipped into your dreams."

"My... hey!" you protested and slapped his arm. "Those are private, you jerk!"

It appeared he was feeling a lot better now, according to the mischievous chuckle he answered with. "Och, don't whine. You might be the first human to have this experience." Cheekily he stuck out his tongue and got to his feet. "Although... I'm not entirely sure in whose head we are. Probably a bit of both."

You grunted annoyed and got up too. "Then wake me up again."

The Master turned, grinned.

"Nope!"

He let out a childish laugh and jumped from a stone, striding deeper into the forest.

"Hey! That's not fair!" you shouted after him. "First you overpower me like that and then you keep trampling over my private stuff."

"Mine too, just for your information."

"Okay, whatever." You crossed your arms as you halted near a clearing. It actually looked really nice. The vibrant green, the small creek that ran through the grass. "Wait... if this is a dream and we are aware of it... does that mean we can manipulate it?"

"Mhm..." The Master tilted his head a little. "Usually yes. But since we share it..." His eyes closed for a moment and the scenery changed. Trees vanished into dust, grass melted into the ground and suddenly you stood within the overgrown ruins of what once might have been an advanced civilisation. "Okay, that works..."

The scenery was quite beautiful in its melancholic state of long gone destruction. But right now you were not in the mood for something like that.

"Let me try!" you inquired and also closed your eyes. "Where could we go?" You thought for a moment, but your subconsciousness seemed to have picked up on your wish a lot faster than you. The smell of salt and water caressed your nose, a soft wind made goose bumps form on your forearms.

"The sea?" The Master asked, a smile audible in his voice. "Always a good choice. Bit boring, though."

A smile widened on your face as you took in the surroundings. It wasn't a place you knew, more like a collection of images, or rather the idea of sea that lived in your mind. There wasn't that much sand, more rocks, actually. You loved to climb around and be sprayed by the hitting waves.

And the weather was amazing! Perfect temperatures. Not too hot, not cold, either. Your ire was forgotten in an instant and you didn't even mind the Master following you as you explored the shore for a bit, picked up some seashells to admire how real they looked - and felt. As did everything else; the water, the wind, the sun.

You sighed happily and pointed at a round pool that had been formed between the rocks, too perfect of a spot not to investigate further.

"Let's go for a swim there, shall we?" you asked, beaming over your face. "Everything feels so real! I bet the water is amazing."

"Probably." The Master laughed and you joined in, happy to see how relaxed he was now. Here, the drums didn't seem to bother him and you had learned before that he could actually be quite the nice company in moments like these.

"But wait... I need some proper clothes." Again your eyes closed and you imagined the most comfy bikini you could think of. Nothing too revealing.

And still you suddenly felt eyes on you, wandering over your form. When you turned you found the Master not only staring at you with a subtle smile, but also now wearing only swimming trunks. Black, of course.

"Like what you see?" he wanted to know, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted out a laugh and pointed down into the round basin. "I might be impressed if you jump down from here."

"Here?" The Master didn't seem impressed as he glanced down. The pool was maybe three or four meters below you. "That's not even a challenge," he mocked and promptly jumped.

Surprised you squeaked, your mind running a million scenarios at once how he might smash his head on a rock or maybe... No. This was still a dream. Immediately you relaxed and giggled to yourself. Nothing could happen to you here. So you did the only logical thing and jumped down too.

Air rushed around you, followed by the cool grip of water. You resurfaced with a happy laugh and swam around a bit until you found the Master again. He stood nearby, the water reaching only his waist. Behind him was wet rock that he leaned against with folded arms and still this calmly, satisfied expression on his features.

"Nice idea," he complimented. "Haven't been to any sea since... a long time ago."

It was seldom that he spoke about the past and you weren't going to ruin the moment by digging deeper. Instead your eyes wandered over his form, curious if you would find anything that set him apart from humans. This was the first time you saw him with so little clothes after all, his skin glittering with water drops, hair dripping.

"You look completely human, you know that?" you mocked and trod in front of him. "I had almost awaited you'd have... I don't know... scales maybe?"

A grin split his mouth and he let out a laugh. "Maybe I do and just altered my appearance in the dream?" He poked out the tongue between his teeth.

"Nah, I don't think so." You chuckled and couldn't resist running a finger over his forearm, feeling the skin and muscles.

He let you, simply watched as you trailed up and halted, raising your hand right over his chest, before gently placing it over the spot between his hearts. It was just a dream after all, no harm done in exploring a little.

When you looked up, the Master hadn't moved, but the black in his eyes had widened, was fixated on your face.

"Everything feels so real," you finally stated, your voice weirdly thick. A nervous laugh escaped you. "Strange to think this is only a dream."

He huffed. "You never had a dream before that was so real you had trouble distinguishing it from reality after waking up?"

"Yeah, but... it's different being conscious in it." You ran your hand through the water in front of you, almost so close to the Master that it brushed against him. "I wonder," you mumbled, thinking about just how close you stood together. "if everything feels so real."

The warmth pooling into your belly definitely did. And the heat you felt shooting right to your core when the Master suddenly grabbed your hip with both hands also did. His thumbs stroked along your sides, his eyes darkening a little more. Your gaze wandered down, wanting to break through the crinkled surface of the water to look between the two of you. Curiosity.

His hands left your hip and instead were on your arms, slowly caressing your skin until they reached your fingers. You let out a sigh, happy about the cool water so he wouldn't see you flush. Or did you anyway?

"That feels real too, doesn't it?" the Master murmured, almost absently. His hands left you and he used them to heave himself on a flat piece of stone nearby, his lower half still hidden under the water's surface. "Enjoy the water." The smile was back. "We're actually not in a hurry."

"Won't we wake up anytime soon?" you wondered, boldly stepping closer to him.

"Not if we don't want to." A mischievous twinkle was in his hazel eyes, the boyish smirk arousing you more than it should.

Shit. You shouldn't be aroused at all. He was still holding your entire planet captive. And no matter how nice he sometimes was to you, he still could be mad and dangerous and... You felt eyes on you again and only then realized your hand was again playing with the water between the two of you. When had you stepped so close? His knees were barely a finger width away from your belly. And your hand... Would this feel so real, too?

"I didn't even know you Time Lords can share dreams."

You stepped even closer, right between his legs, your skin touching the stone on which the Master sat. His head slightly tilted backwards, but his now clearly dilated pupils kept staring at you as if he was just waiting.

"Now you know," he said. "It's a nice thing. You can do whatever you want. Experiments, just having… fun."

"And no real consequences," you finished the thought. For a moment your eyes locked with the Master's.

His lips twitched slightly. It seemed he was perfectly aware of what you contemplated doing. So you did, dipped your hand below the water and let your fingers brush over cloth and the obvious bulge in it.

The mere fact shot another wave of arousal straight between your legs. Another, bolder movement along his erection didn't help either and when you sheepishly glanced up the Master had his eyes half closed, his breath hitching when, instead of your fingers, you let your palm run over his length.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest all of a sudden and he leaned forward, catching your hand. "You've always been staring at me. You want me so badly, little one?" Was there really a hint of threat in his voice?

"Experimenting." The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. "It's only a dream, innit?" Your free hand crept forward, wrapped itself around his dick through the trunks.

His eyes rolled backwards the tiniest bit, his head dropping against yours as a grin blossomed on his lips. "Didn't know you were dreaming about me," he teased, breath shuddering delightfully when you started to slowly stroke him.

God, you wanted to feel him without those trunks, suddenly yearned to let your fingers wander over every inch of him, teasing, fondling, feeling every vein, every ridge. "Right now I do," you said breathy. "Don't worry, 'm pretty sure this is the first time."

Again he shuddered, hot breath ghosting over your lips. Then, with a swift movement that took you completely off guard, he grabbed your sites again and dragged you upwards, right into his lap with a loud splash. Both of you were hidden below the surface still, the water on your skin shimmering in the sun. A moan escaped your lips when your clit rubbed against his length, the wet cloth only adding to the friction.

Before you could even form a thought his lips crashed onto yours, one hand on the back of your head, the other slipping into your bikini pants. When you wanted to do the same to him, however, the hand vanished, grabbed your thigh and dragged you so flush against him that you had no chance to get anywhere near him. His lips were soft and warm, coaxing another moan from yours right as his fingers slipped back under your cloth and brushed against your swollen clit. Another finger slid down below your folds, teased the entrance for maybe a second too long.

You squirmed from your own need, opened your mouth and deepened the kiss, tongues stroking sensually against one another. His fingers finally pressed into you. The Master swallowed another moan, moved back and forth inside your heat, added a second finger and kept his thumb on your clit.

All of your senses were overblown with need and want and the smell of his skin, the taste of his tongue. You couldn't help but rock against his hand and also his erection in the same movement. He groaned, tried to keep you from moving while his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Somehow, though, you managed to slide back enough to fit your own hand between the two of you and promptly use the opportunity. Teasing fingers moved to the waistband of his trunks, slipped inside when there was no protest. Your hand wrapped around his dick firmly and finally you could do to him what he did to you. And he felt great in your hand, sliding up and down your palm, your thump teasing the slit and the sensitive area below. Even through the water you could feel a drop of precum, imagined how it dissolved in.

A low growl of pleasure rumbled through his heaving chest, his second hand vanished from your head, his mouth retreating. You wanted to look, wanted to see what you did to him. Damp hair clung to the Master's forehead, a perfect match for the glimmering sheen of sweat and salt water on his skin.

Again you firmly stroked up his length, hyper aware of his shuddering breath and jittering eyes. His free hand was between your breasts, the bikini simply gone. Carefully he pushed against your torso, bending you backwards a little, so you would have less opportunity to move on him.

His sight, the position, the thumb massaging your clit in firm circles, the fingers pumping in and out, hitting at all the right spots inside of you, it made you want to move again, made you desperate to find out whether or not you could really climax in a dream.

But the fingers vanished. You whimpered when you realized he wasn't going to continue. With both hands he grabbed your head and kissed your wet lips, fierce and hungry and groaning into your mouth when you boldly continued to stroke him.

Seconds later the Master broke the kiss, panted. "That real enough for you?"

All you could do was to swallow and nod with gleaming eyes. His mouth hovered over yours, hot breath ghosting your lips, his eyes fluttering shut. But there was also a blossoming grin and suddenly you realized that you were both completely naked now.

Right in that moment he grabbed your bum, lifted you up from him and sat you on the stone while he slid down from it. You wanted to protest, wanted to grab his arm, but he didn't vanish, as you had feared. Instead the Master positioned himself between your legs, grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him on the wet stone so his dick could stroke through your folds and rest at your throbbing entrance.

If there hadn't been water you would have laid on your back, but now you kept yourself upright on your elbows, watching, enjoying how the Master teased your entrance. His eyes sought out yours. "You're ready?"

"Are you kidding me?" you moaned, too far gone for any modesty.

The Master chuckled, leaned forward, snaked an arm around your middle and pulled you up for another kiss, the head of his shaft still at your entrance, almost slipping inside when you moved slightly. But he wouldn't let you, held you in place and grinned against your lips at your desperation. The height of the stone aligned you perfectly and again you shifted your bottom, felt him slip into you the tiniest bit, already enough to spike the pleasure, the anticipation.

"Make me," he ground out, breathing heavily, almost restrained.

You let out a moan, tried to push yourself closer and him deeper. The Master gasped, pressed you against him for a mere second, but pulled out of you again, his look as desperate as you felt, breath quivering.

And you knew what he wanted, your brain still somewhat functioning, maybe more than his, in this very moment. Despite his own urge for control he slightly rocked forward, silently groaned when your centre swallowed the tip of his dick again. You could feel how much he had to hold back, how he still couldn't help but let himself sink in just a bit deeper, fingernails lightly scratching your back.

"Master," you moaned and felt him twitch against your folds. He wanted to be in control. He needed you to fully give it to him. "Master," you almost whimpered and he slid even deeper, not yet there, but also not horribly far away.

He carefully pulled out again, not all the way, only a little. "Beg me," he ground out. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you." You swallowed a groan when you felt him slightly move again, wondered how long you both could continue this without bursting. You had no intention to find out, leaned closer to his ear, muttering, "I want you to fuck me, Master."

And that was enough. He gripped your hip with both hands, pressed you flush against him, his length finally slipping inside. Both of you let out moans and for a short moment the Master stopped, his breath heavy and somewhat shaky. One hand dropped to your bum, his lips crashed on yours again and he moved, made you moan into his mouth when he pulled back out, only to slam back inside. He repeated it a few more times, building a rhythm that was both desperate and controlled.

You were barely aware of the water around you, of the sun and the wind. All you felt and wanted to feel was the Master moving in and out of you. You cried out when he hit an especially sensitive spot and he tilted you slightly backwards to get a better angle, the kiss getting sloppy as his pace sped up, stopped completely after a moment, both of you lost in the building pleasure. You let out a small groan each time he hit that spot inside of you. His hand slipped down your front, thumb circling firmly on your clit, adding to the tightening coil.

"Master, please," you groaned.

And he sped up his pace, kept his thumb moving. You sensed how close he was, felt that spot again, and again and you cried out, clenched and panted as the climax rushed through your body and set every nerve within it on fire. Your nails dug into his skin, you walls clenching around his slowing dick and with shuddering breaths you moaned out the orgasm, could feel its aftershocks ripple through you each time the Master thrust himself deeper. He was still slowing, still aware of your oversensitive state, but unable to stop himself, and you encouraged his action by rocking against him, another aftershock making you shiver when you felt him hit you deep inside.

It felt just too good, you wanted him to snap, started to speed up your own rhythm until he dug his fingers into your sites and almost stilled, suddenly capturing your lips, but only to make you swallow his groans while he pulsated and spilled himself inside of you.

The sound of wind and waves returned to your ears as the Master released your lips. Breath still calming, heart still racing. The Master pulled out of you, turned and hopped onto the stone next to you.

The scenery changed, but only slightly. Suddenly you lay next to each other on dry ground, flat stones, heated by the sun, your feet splashed by nearby waves once in a while. Both of you wore clothes again, light summer trunks and shirts.

You sighed content, still feeling your body calming.

"Okay,that felt real," you muttered with a smile. "I wonder what happened to our bodies."

"Sleeping." The Master answered.

"No shit." You laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "I mean, uh… you know."

He chuckled and looked at you, head resting on folded arms. "You might wake up a bit aroused," he teased. "But that's it. Nothing new while being around me."

A wink was cast in your direction, made you laugh. "Don't get high on it. When we wake up, first thing I'll do is slap you for being such a prick before."

His face darkened in an instant, eyes darting away almost as if… he felt guilty? Probably not.

"Is it quiet now?" you asked softly and his gaze returned.

"It never is. Not fully." He smiled and the expression was warm. "But it's so much more bearable with you around."

"I'll still slap you." You poked the tongue out. "And maybe laugh at you for having a morning boner."

The Master grinned and turned around to lay his head right next to your ear. "Dangerous idea."

"Oh?" You turned too, facing him. "Why would that be?"

Instead of an answer he snaked an arm around you and pulled you flush against him. Definitely no need to wake up, here, you realized. The wolfish grin on his face also didn't help. Neither did, that he grabbed you with both hands to turn you both and in a way that you ended up sitting on him.

Alright. You grinned back. No waking up yet, then.

#the master x reader #doctor who fanfic #fanfiction #smut #doctor who #the master #reader insert

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lilchibi-chan · 4 years

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Hewwo! How r u doing??🧐 I would like to ask for a little something where the reader is easily distracted and goes off the path (chasing a butterfly, seeing a dog, etc...) and the boy doesn’t notice until later. 🥰🥺 The bois: Todoroki, Kirishima, and Shinso (BNHA/MHA) ✨✨

Aww I love this! This is so cute! I will try my best for you 🥺

Todoroki

It’s Friday evening and you are on your way home from UA because you wanted to go home for the weekend and Todoroki decides to go with you being the protective boyfriend he is.

It’s spring and the cherry blossoms have just bloomed. The path you’re walking is lined with cherry blossom trees. You stop to take in the soft pink petals, but Shouto doesn’t notice until he reaches the end of the path and sees that you’re not next to him.

He freaks out thinking someone might’ve taken you when he wasn’t watching or maybe you just went off to a convenience store or something. He decided to walk back up the path, asking any and everyone if they had seen you, showing them pictures of you, saying how tall you are, etc.

He finally makes it to where you were, hair sticking to his forehead since he basically ran the whole time.

You were standing under the trees, slowly spinning as the petals fell into your hands. You felt like you were in your own little world, like you were a fairy and you could stay in this moment forever.

You hadn’t noticed him standing there yet, but he was watching as you twirled beneath the flower petals, falling like snow around you. He took out his phone and started recording you and snapped a few pictures. You looked so beautiful to him in this moment and he wanted to capture if forever. The way the sun shone on your skin and your warm smile melted him and he realized just how much he loves you in that moment.

When you finally notice him standing there, you feel your cheeks heat up and you know instantly that you’re blushing.

He makes his way over to you and grabs your hand in his. He looks at them and smiles for a moment. He pulls you close to his chest and kisses you on your forehead.

“I love you...y/n”

You look up at him surprised because his words caught you off guard, but hearing them made you happy, so the as quick as the shock hit is as quick as it left and you just smiled from ear to ear.

You hug him and nuzzle your face into his chest.

“I love you too, Shouto”

You both walk up the path, this time he’s hold your hand and make your way to your house where dinner is already waiting.

Kirishima

It’s summer vacation and your family has decided to go to the beach house that has been in your family for decades. They tell you to invite Kirishima along and whoever else you wanted to come along since there was enough room. It was a private beach, so you basically had it to yourselves whenever your family did go there for whatever reason, whether it be a small gathering or just wanting to get away from the city for a little bit.

When you reach, everyone unpacks and you decide to head down to the beach with Mina, Yaoyorozu and Uraraka. Denki, Kirishima, Bakugou, Sero and Deku all meet you on the beach a little afterwards. You all swim for a while and play games, until your dad decides to barbecue. Once everything is taken off the grill, you all eat together. Your mom bought fireworks and sparklers for you all to end the night with and celebrate your first day on the beach.

After all the festivities are over, you all head inside to rest for the night, but you and your friends decided to have a mini sleep over in the living room and watch movies. You cuddled with Kirishima on the couch while the rest of your friends took the floor. You all end up falling asleep in the middle of the second movie that was put on. You wake up around 3:30 to the tv still being on. You get up to turn it off then realize you can’t fall back asleep. You decide to go out and take a walk along the beach to calm yourself to the sound of the waves. You notice that the waves are glowing due to the bioluminescent krill in the water and you become so entranced that you take a seat on the rocks to watch the beautiful sight before you.

Kiri wakes up an hour later and pops up when he realizes you’re not next to him anymore. He carefully gets up, so that he doesn’t hurt any of the sleeping people on the floor and makes his was upstairs to see if you decided to go up to your room. The thought made him sad, but he could understand if your bed was more comfortable than the couch. He opened the door quietly, as to not wake your parents and saw that your bed was untouched. He decided to make his way to the balcony on the second floor to think about where you could’ve gone. Something told him to use the telescope that was on the balcony and he searched for you along the beach. He finally saw that you were on the far end by the rocks, sitting on them. He made his way back down the stairs, again quietly, and made his way along the beach to get to you. He took a blanket with him, just in case you would be cold.

“Hey pebble,” he says with a soft smile, startling you a bit

“Hey,” you say with a soft smile back

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says with laughter in his voice,“but you can just consider it a little bit of pay back since I woke up and you weren’t there.” He finished, taking a seat next to you.

“Sorry about that,” you say blushing

“Why are you sitting here anyways?” He asked curious

“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you,” you say picking up a flat rock, then skimming it across the water to reveal the plankton

“Woah, that’s so cool, pebble. I see why you stayed here so long,” he says smiling his big smile

“How long have I been out here,” you ask, kinda freaking out

“Little over an hour,” he says smiling

“We should probably head back before my parents wake up,” you say about to get up

“Wait,” he says stopping you,“five more minutes, then we can go back.”

You nod and he takes a seat next you and wrapping the blanket around both of your shoulders.

After the five extra minutes, you both head back to the beach house, cuddle on the couch and go back to sleep.

Shinso

Shinso and you are out for a picnic date that you had planned for a while. The weather is warm and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. You make it to forest/site you wanted to have the picnic and it’s even more perfect than you imagined. There’s the perfect canopy to sunlight ratio and you’re not too far from the river, causing there to be a comfortable coolness in the air. You set down the blanket and Shinso put some rocks on the corners, so that it wouldn’t lift up in the wind blew. You both start unpacking the basket and you realize you forgot the drinks in the car. You offer to run and go get it, but he protests.

“I’ll get it, kitten. You stay here, I’ll be right back,” he says leaving you there by yourself.

A couple of minutes pass and you start to hear rustling in the bushes. You were definitely a little frightened, but waited to see if anything would come out before you just to any conclusions or scared yourself by jumping to said conclusions.

Just then a bunny comes out and it’s limping. You slowly crawl over to it, as to not scare it.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you cutie. I just wanna help.”

You continue to slowly crawl toward it, extending your hand so that it can get used to your scent. Once it finally puts its guard down, your able to pick it up. You figured it’s borough couldn’t be too far from where you were since it came this way. You decide to walk off, eyeing the ground for any holes.

When Shinso finally returns to your picnic area, he sees that you’re not there. He decides to call for you, but receives nothing. He decides to take the path you took, not knowing that it’s the way you went, but something inside him told him to go that way.

After a few minutes of walking, he decides to try calling for you again. The first time he receives nothing, causing worry to start building. He walks up some more and tries again.

“Y/N!!”

“Over here!”

He walkruns over to the direction he heard your voice come from.

“Shh,” you say, so that he wouldn’t startle the rabbit in your arms. He makes his way over to you slower. You tell him what happened and he helps you find the bunny’s home.

You finally find the borough at the bottom of a tree. You decide it might be best to back away and let the bunny hop in on its own. You crouch down and Shinso follows. You set the bunny on the ground and it’s hesitant to head home.

“Go ahead, it’s okay,” you say encouraging it

The bunny takes a couple hops before fully going for it and going home. You decide to capture this moment by snapping a couple of pictures. While you’re busy doing that, Shinso just admires you and smiles.

“Ready,” you say smiling and catching him off guard

“Y-yeah, lets go,” he says blushing

You both make it back to your picnic and enjoy the food and snacks that were packed.

All of a sudden it starts to rain. You both hurriedly pack everything and try to find shelter somewhere.

You come across a shed and decide to knock in the door. An older woman opens the door.

“Hello ma’am, is it okay if we stay here. It’s just started raining out of nowhere and we don’t have an umbrella,” you say nicely and slightly apologetic

“Of course dears. Come in.”

You and Shinso do as she says and she lights a fire for you both to sit by. She also supplies you with a blanket and leaves to make tea for you both. Shinso wraps the blanket around both of you and he can see that you are shivering a little, so he moves closer to you, causing you to blush.

“Kitty,” he says, grabbing your attention

“Yes”

“I’m sorry the picnic got ruined,” he says apologetic

“It didn’t get ruined,” you say with laughter in your voice,“this was the best day ever.”

“R-really,” he asks expectantly

“Yes, we helped a bunny find its way home and we did still get to enjoy the picnic, it’s just got cut short and that’s okay, cause I got to spend the whole day with you.”

“This is why I love you, kitty. Your so good and optimistic. You see the great in every situation. I wish I could do that more. You’re so perfect and I-I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me and you’re perfect too. Maybe not perfect to you, but perfect to me and that’s the most important thing,” you say smiling

He pulls you in and kisses you softly and full of love.

The rain finally clears and you thank the woman for her hospitality. Shinso drives you to your house and before you exit he grabs your hand and kisses it. Then he pulls you in and kisses your lips. He watches you enter your house and then drives off.

I hope you enjoyed. Thank you again for submitting and keeping my asks active. You always give me something new and I really appreciate you letting my imagination run wild (more than it already does). 💖🥺

188 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 3 years

Note

uhm if you still need and want a benny boi request: hiking with him and soft sex by the fireplace to warm up 🥺 or in the tent bc it's probably pretty cold ngl

(@queenmylovely)

God you bitches get me. These prompts are wonderful and came in about 30 seconds apart lmao so i hope you like what I did with them!

warnings: smut but its like super somft and fluffy, also a lil bit of arguing

Blurb Advent: Day 16

The trip wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined it would be. Initially you’d been planning to get away during Summer, maybe head to the beach for a couple of weeks, spend your time relaxing in the sun, hitting the waves. But the timing never quite worked out and the whole idea of going away was put on hold until it had cooled down again. And of course, once it became clear the trip would be in winter, you had to stop thinking of the beach and find somewhere new to go. Luckily (you supposed) a family friend of Ben’s had a cabin in the woods that he was happy to let you use. You weren’t quite as thrilled with it as you would have been a little beach side cottage, but you really just wanted some time for you and Ben without other distractions and he wanted to get out of the city. And neither of you wanted to wait another six months for the break. So the arrangements were made and early on a Friday morning you grumbled your way out of bed and into the warmest clothes you owned, packing everything into the car, ready to head off on your holiday.

The cabin was cute, surrounded by tall trees and the promise of picturesque views. A generator had been installed a few years previous to allow access to electricity and there was a large rain tank to collect water for all the plumbing systems. You had been warned that in dryer weather you may need to seek out the nearby well to collect water for drinking and cooking. There’d been a lot of rain in the previous month so you didn’t think you’d need to worry about it but, all the same, you kept it in mind, adding a few metal water bottles to your essential supplies (which included things like food, the makings of tea and coffee, toothpaste and condoms). On top of the essentials you also made sure to pack Ben’s guitar and your travel paint set in the hopes that the seclusion and nature would inspire you both.

The first day was mostly spent getting there and unpacking. When you arrived, you had to carry all your gear up a short incline that the car couldn’t access but it was worth it when you saw the scene. It was gorgeous, the surrounding woods a little damp with fresh rainfall, the cabin looking cozy and warm and perfect for a romantic getaway. You spent the morning putting food in the fridge and poking around the cabin, getting the doors and windows open to let in some air and natural light. In the afternoon you checked out the store of firewood and decided to collect some more so that it would have time to dry out under cover before you needed it. Together, bundled up in warm coats and gloves, you walked around the immediate area, collecting any logs that looked large enough as well as smaller sticks for kindling. In the evening you made dinner together and settled in for a night on the couch, wrapped in as many blankets as you could get your hands on. Things had been so busy lately you almost didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you were taking a break from it all. But the chaos you’d been living in had meant you didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Ben properly so that was what you did. Snuggled up on the couch and talked, finally able to just be together.

The next day Ben suggested you check out the surrounding area, follow the hiking trail up the hill and see what was out there. There were practical reasons like finding the well just in case you did need it, but mostly it was just for fun. You each filled a backpack with a water bottle and some food as well as a grabbing a small first aid kit, some bug spray to combat the mosquitos you’d noticed the night before, and your paints. Ben slung his guitar over his back and you set off. The walk itself was fine though there were a few steep places on the trail. Ben used them as an excuse to hold your hand, getting a few steps higher and then offering his to help you follow. It was silly but cute and you found yourself giggling whenever he did it. It was quiet too, which was nice. You didn’t meet any other people on the trail but that meant you could stop and point out creatures that crossed your path or pause to take photos of interesting plants and pretty views you might like to paint later.

At the top of the hill was a little lookout area with a park bench. Since you seemed to have it to yourself you unpacked your bags and ate lunch looking out over the tops of the trees below. As you ate you pulled out your sketchbook and started to draw things you could see, going over some with paints and leaving others as just the outline. Ben pulled out his guitar and found a small spot to lean against a tree and play softly, his eyes closed as he plucked at the strings. It was tranquil and peaceful and perfect. Or nearly perfect. You hadn’t noticed it as much while you were walking but now that you were standing still you realised just how freezing cold it was. For a while you tried to ignore it but eventually you had to speak up.

“Benny? Are you getting cold? My fingers are starting to freeze, maybe we should think about heading back?”

Ben dropped into the seat beside you and grabbed your hands in his, “I’ll warm them up for you.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, not mentioning how unhelpful of a suggestion it was, “But I’m serious. The walk up here took a while anyway, might be best to start heading back down now, before it starts getting dark and even colder. Plus I don’t like the look of those clouds,” you pointed to a dark patch of sky off in the distance.

Ben eyed the rainclouds and thought for a moment, “Alright, you make a good point. Let’s pack up.”

As quickly as you could you packed everything back into your bags and began to make your way back down the slope. Walking did help warm you up again though you couldn’t help but mention your need to defrost in front of the fire. And your discomfort only got worse as the rain began. The trees protected you a little but not enough and before long your teeth were chattering and your toes felt numb. Ben was just as unhappy, his hair dripping onto his face as he snapped at you to hurry up. He got particularly cranky when you paused to take a photo of the pretty haze the rain had thrown over one of the scenes you’d photographed on your way up, the roof of your cabin just visible through the trees.

“All your fucking complaining and now you want to stop to take pictures? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be sitting up at the fucking lookout twiddling your thumbs.”

“You’re so fucking full of it. And slow! Could you walk a little faster please!” Ben tried to grab your hand and pull you along but you shook him off.

“It’s not my fault my feet feel like ice blocks. I didn’t even want to come out to this stupid cabin.”

“You’re the one who was practically begging for me to take you somewhere.”

“Yeah but not a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere. This is the start of a horror film Ben. You brought me to a horror film.”

“Y’know this isn’t exactly what I wanted either. I was hoping for something a little more romantic, a little less bitching.”

“Well I think you’ve put paid to that.” You spat back, dropping your eyes to your feet so you could watch the terrain you were walking over, not wanting to slip in case Ben decided to walk ahead.

You were surprised when Ben held his hand out to you, offering his help to get down a particularly uneven patch of the path, but you took it all the same.

“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his hand tight around yours, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“It was lovely up until the rain,” you shrugged, “Sorry I stopped before, and that I’ve been winging so much,”

“Hey, you’re allowed to winge, especially when your idiot boyfriend gets you stuck freezing to death in the middle of nowhere,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly, “but maybe he can make it up to you when you get back to the cabin?”

“How?”

“I’m thinking we get the fire going and sit as close to it as we can until we’re warm. I can make us some hot chocolate and then maybe we whip up a curry for dinner? Something really hot.”

You chucked and nodded, “Sounds good. Can I make one request?” “What is it?” “Can we cuddle? While we’re in front of the fire?”

“The cuddling was implied. It’s the most romantic thing I can think of so of course we’re cuddling.”

“You’re not an idiot Ben. And walking in the rain is kind of romantic, especially when there’s a fire to go back to.”

Ben pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as you walked.

By the time you got back to the cabin you were damp through, though your shoes felt completely soaked. Ben was true to his word though, peeling off his jacket and bending over the fireplace as he told you to go and get changed. You dug out clean, dry clothes, throwing Ben’s hoodie over the top. You grabbed all the blankets you could and came out to a fire coming to life as Ben hurried off to change. While he was gone you dropped the blankets on the floor, a little back from the fireplace, creating a sort of nest for the two of you.

“You stole my hoodie,” Ben pouted.

“Can’t blame me, it’s so warm and soft and I look cute in it,”

He chucked as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “all of that is very true.”

For a while you just sat together, letting the feeling come back to your fingers and toes. Ben asked to see the photos you’d taken, pointing out scenery he thought would make nice artwork, and especially anything you could hang on the walls at home.

“I hope your sketchbook didn’t get too wet��

“I don’t think the rain got into the bags too much. What about your guitar?”

“It should be fine, it’s been in worse weather. Sorry I was short with you before,” he said quietly, his nose bumping your cheek.

You turned your head towards him, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”

He kissed you softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You sighed against his lips and shifted to better face him, discouraging him from moving away.

Ben kissed you slowly and deeply, as if he intended to just keep kissing you all night. But gradually his hands began to wander too, fingertips lightly tracing patterns over your sides as they slipped further down. You hummed at the touch, mirroring him, trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Slowly, he inched the hem of the hoodie higher until he could pull it over your head. You didn’t mind, plenty warm from the fire and Ben’s embrace.

“This okay?” Ben asked between small kisses along the corner of your mouth, his fingers already tugging at your shirt.

“Mmhmm, very,”

He nodded and lifted your shirt over your head, keeping his arms up so you could do the same to him.

He didn’t rush, leisurely following the line of your throat with his lips, humming in response to your whimpers and mewls. You were already wet when he wriggled his hand under the band of your leggings, exacerbating your arousal as he stroked along your slit.

Once he had your pants off he rolled you onto your front, making sure you were comfortable amongst all the blankets, the heat of the fire washing over you. Gently, he hooking his fingers into the top of your underwear, pulling them down your legs, leaving soft kisses on your lower back and arse and thighs.

“Give me two seconds, babe,” he whispered, tugging his own pants off and leaning over to grab one of your backpacks.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at the noise.

“Might have thrown a couple of condoms in here, just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?”

“I don’t know. In case the view made you super horny or we wandered into a fairy ring and ended up kidnapped by pervert fairies. Just, y’know, in case.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laughed, tapping him with your foot as you lay down again, your arms folded under your head.

“I was just preparing for any eventuality.”

“Mmm well, you might want to hurry up and prepare or else I’m gonna fall asleep here. It’s very comfortable,”

“Don’t do that, hang on,” You heard Ben tear at the wrapper and then swear and then tear it again as you laughed into your arms.

“Alright, ready. You still awake,”

“Surprisingly, yes,”

“Good,” his voice was close to your ear as he lay over you, cocooning you in his warmth as he entered you from behind.

You moaned into your arm as he slowly rocked into you, his chest against your back as he braced himself on arms either side of you. There wasn’t much scope for anything fast or hard but it was intimate, his cock pressed against your g-spot so that every slight shift of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

Ben kissed your shoulder and left his lips there as he mumbled, “feel good?”

“Mmhmm, fucking incredible,”

“Mmm, you feel incredible too.”

You pushed your self up and looked around for Ben. Within seconds he was kissing you again, tongue dragging over your lips as another jolt shot though you and you gasped.

For a while you stayed like that, your movements lazy and slow. But it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, even with Ben groaning in your ear or sucking at your pulse point.

“I need more Ben,”

“Alright, babe, if I pull out are you good to roll over?”

You nodded, catching him in another kiss to show your appreciation.

Once you were on your back, leaning on your forearms, Ben adjusted his position, his legs falling between yours as he lined himself up once more. He wasn’t much deeper but the angle was different and you felt Ben hit a spot he hadn’t reached before as he leaned over you and attached his lips to your neck again.

“Fuck, Ben,” The fire was still burning, heating your opposite side as you threw your arm around Ben, digging your nails into his back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“This better?” “Yeah. You make me feel so good,”

Ben smiled and lay you back further, so he didn’t have to hold himself up with his arms, instead allowing him to slide one hand between you to softly play with your clit.

You grasped at his back as his hips snapped against yours harder, his fingers constantly rubbing at your clit.

“C’mon, babe, you’re close aren’t you.”

You nodded again, feeling as if you’d lost the ability to form words as your back arched. Everything was warm and comfortable – the fire and the blankets and Ben’s low voice, mumbling encouragement between kisses – and before you fully comprehended it was happening, your orgasm washed over you, pulling Ben’s name from your throat. He mirrored you a few seconds later, groaning your name as he stilled, his forehead falling to meet yours.

Carefully he rolled off you and you shuffled around to lean your head on his chest, still mostly tucked up in your blanket nest.

It was quiet for a moment as you both settled, your breathing falling into sync as you watched the fire and listened to the rain that had only gotten heavier while you were wrapped up in each other.

Suddenly Ben spoke, his tone more than a little braggy, “How’s that for romantic.”

#my writing #my blurbs #smut blurb #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #cant believe you made me yearn so fucking much #but here we are #guess those canada goose pics really fucked us all up huh #ohladymoon #blurb advent 2020

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aethelar · 4 years

Text

If there are meanings to the various plants Graves hacks and coughs out of his lungs, he doesn’t care to know them. He knows enough, obviously, to recognise them as a sign of unrequited love and to know that they are not, by themselves, fatal, but otherwise, ergh. He’s not going to pore over books dissecting the language of flowers to divine the true meaning behind what he spits into his kitchen sink. This one’s red and crumpled in a soggy mess, does that mean his heart’s in pain from his passionate yearning - no, it means the fucking twig it’s attached to scraped his throat and came out bloody, and it’ll be a hell of a lot more than just crumpled by the time he’s finished setting fire to it.

It’s disgusting. Everything about it is disgusting. The stringy stems catching on his teeth, the way he coughs and it comes out lumpy with just-opening buds, the taste of fucking pollen that he can’t scrape off his tongue, it’s disgusting. And! That’s before you even factor in that, apparently, Graves’ feelings are literally choking him he knew the damn things were dangerous who in the seven hells ever thought they were a good idea. Being slowly throttled by your emotions wasn’t romantic in the great oil paintings and love stories of the past and it isn’t romantic now. It’s a pain. A disgusting, foul-tasting, inconvenient - a fucking foot long branch, are you serious, all thin and delicate and dotted with tiny white flowers but that doesn’t change the fact that Graves had to deepthroat a fucking branch and then somehow hide the evidence once he hacked coughed and choked the damn thing out.

So no. He is not enjoying Newt Scamander’s extended stay at MACUSA to help sort out the beast laws. Fuck off.

“Oh, Mr Graves!” Newt says, with his stupid floofy hair and his stupid lopsided smile. “I made you coffee.”

“It’s just Graves,” Graves grumbles for the eighth time, dropping his coat over the back of his chair with a barely-hidden sigh of relief. It’s a bitching coat, but it’s also not December anymore, and as he rolls up his sleeves and debates undoing another button at his collar he thinks, ruefully, that it might be time to move into more seasonally appropriate jackets.

No, he decides. Some berk impersonated him all through winter. He didn’t get the chance to wear his bitching coat when the weather was cold, so he’ll wear it now to make up for it. He looks good in black and he’s willing to suffer for fashion, it’ll be fine.

The coffee, when he takes it, is a perfect temperature. It always is. Given that Graves is forty minutes late today (fucking tree in his fucking lungs), this is something of a surprise, and he can’t help the quizzical eyebrow he raises at Newt.

“Magic,” Newt says, fluttering his fingers like an idiot and capping it off with a quirked grin. A stupid quirked grin. With the stupid dimples that come with it. And - the man has freckles, the fuck is Graves meant to do.

“Ta,” he says, slightly strangled, and downs the coffee in one. If he has to chew to swallow the fecking bouquet that appeared in his mouth in reaction to Newt’s everything, that’s no business of anyone else’s, and he refuses to let anything show on his face that might suggest the coffee was less than perfect. Newt’s got a lot better at making coffee in the past few months. It hasn’t tried to climb out the mug in weeks, Graves doesn’t want to discourage this sort of progress.

Nor, later, does he want to discourage the way Newt leans forward, speaking too fast and caring too much as he lays out the things they’ve achieved and the plans he wants to put in action, or the way Newt flicks his gaze back to Graves for support then launches into a passionate response to some complete moron’s doubting skepticism.

He does that a lot. Look to Graves for support. Grindelwald left his mark, and though his aurors know it wasn’t him, the easy trust they had in him is... not gone. If it was gone, then so would Graves be, it would hurt too much to stay. But it’s not so easy anymore for them to remember that Graves has their backs and will keep them safe.

Or maybe the easy trust in his intentions is still there, but the glaring evidence that he couldn’t keep himself safe makes it irrelevent. Either way.

Newt, though, Newt never had a relationship with him for Grindelwald to twist and turn sour, and Newt never falters in surprise when the new Graves snaps and hurts and bites down the things he wants to say and struggles to hold onto the person he used to be and - not that Graves does, not all the time, he’s fine, honestly genuinely he’s fine, he’s just. Finer. When Newt is around and doesn’t expect anything from him that he doesn’t remember how to give.

What Newt expects is for Graves to believe in what he’s trying to do. What Newt expects is for Graves to point out the impracticalities and the legal obstacles and work with him to help him through them. What Newt expects is for Graves to down whatever foul concoction Newt is passing off as coffee and tilt his head and listen when Newt speaks too fast and admit that maybe, maybe Newt doesn’t care too much, maybe the system was wrong and Graves was wrong and Graves could stand to care a little more.

Newt only expects it because that’s what Graves does. It’s different.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, and goes to vomit out a fucking florist in the mens’ room.

“I thought you dipshits were meant to be in my lungs,” he complains, wincing as the bile burns his throat. He’s on his knees, one hand braced against the wall, and even when he stops retching he takes a moment before he tries to stand. He gets as far as an unsteady crouch before light-headedness threatens to overbalance him and he has to hold onto the cistern to stay upright.

“Breathe,” he growls, frustration and pain in his voice as he fights the urge to grip his chest. It feels tight, like heartburn, like thorns growing around his ribs, and it’s a struggle to get enough oxygen around the forest growing inside him. “Fucking - breathe, moron.”

“Graves?” a voice asks through the door. It’s Newt. Of course it’s Newt. None of Graves’ aurors would track him down if they were worried about him. It’s not like they did before, why break a habit.

“Give me a sec,” he says, and tries to keep his footsteps even as he staggers to the sink and washes his hands. In the mirror, there’s blood smeared at the corner of his mouth, and he gets rid of it with an angry swipe of his wrist. “I’m fine. Sorry. Bad timing.”

“No, it’s ok,” Newt says, still waiting outside the door. “You don’t need to apologise.” He pauses, then, hesitantly, “It’s ok if you’re not fine too, you know.”

Graves stops. Hands on the edge of the sink, shoulders hunched, head hanging low. The tap is still running. He can feel a tickle at the back of his throat but he’s exhausted and his ribs hurt and he closes his eyes and ignores it. “I know,” he says, coming out thickly around the flower on his tongue.

In the most romantic of the stories, the hero holds out, refusing to admit his feelings until he’s all but dying from the disease. The flowers aren’t fatal by themselves, but lungs aren’t meant to hold a garden. Then he swoons, or faints, or collapses dramatically in his true loves’ arms; they realise the truth and music swells in the background, and with tears in their eyes as they understand that only their love can save the hero, they kiss him.

Curtain falls. Lights dim. Flowers bloom. End story.

What, Graves would like to know, is romantic about telling someone their choices are to love you or see you die. It hardly seems fair. More like a thinly veiled threat, and he will not make a murderer out of Newt.

He opens his mouth and drops the flower - single, large, white - onto his palm, then crumples it in his fist and throws it in the bin. “I know,” he says again, once his mouth is empty and he can talk. It comes out tireder than he means it to and he shakes himself, squaring his shoulders before he opens the door.

Newt frowns at him in poorly-hidden concern, but doesn’t press it. “They called a break,” he says instead. “Do you want a coffee?”

“Yeah,” Graves says, allowing himself a faint, resigned smile. “I’ll make you a tea.”

And. That’s ok. It’ll have to be ok. The flowers are resistant to any spells or potions he tries to control them with so he works on his feelings instead, if they’re the source of the problem. He’s not sure how effective it is, but if he tells himself that he doesn’t love Newt, then maybe he won’t. Or - if he tells himself that if he loved Newt, then surely he’d respect the fact that Newt apparently doesn’t love him in return, and therefore as a sign of Graves’ love he should stop loving Newt -

He tells himself a lot of things. The plant life falls more to flowers and less to trees, which is a bonus, but it doesn’t stop coming. Graves is short of breath more days than not, and he’s losing weight from both the lack of appetite and the amount of time he spends throwing up. That’s ok too. He rearranges his schedule to put himself on less field duty and give himself more paperwork, and if that gives himself more time working in the office with Newt, then that’s just another bonus in life.

The fact that he has to give up his coat is not, but even with cooling charms it’s too heavy and it leaves him flushed and dizzy and lightheaded from the heat. Newt’s coffee progresses from mostly-liquid to mostly-drinkable and Graves likes to think he’s managed the correct balance of tannin and sugar in Newt’s tea, and life goes on. Quiet days, working on the beast laws in companionable silence, sitting to the side in meetings so Newt can take centre stage and shine. Tilting his head with a fond smile and watching the way he waves his hands as he talks too fast and cares too much about the latest creatures in his case. His freckles. The way his excited grins gives him dimples. The increasing worry in the way he frets over Graves and makes sure Graves knows he’s there and just waiting to be allowed to help.

Graves doesn’t allow him. Hanahaki is insideous. Love me or kill me is a horrible thing to say to someone. Maybe if the damn flowers weren’t there he’d’ve done something, but. The damn flowers are there. They come thicker, and faster; he wakes up wheezing in the night and he holds the bannister when he goes up stairs, he stops bothering to eat because everything tastes of pollen and he’s pretty sure Newt’s hiding nutrient potions in his coffee, he’s nearly there with the beast laws and he drags himself through because his fucking feelings are going to kill him but at least he can tie off his loose ends before he goes -

“Graves,” Newt says, leaning towards him with panic in his eyes. His voice echoes. Graves’ chest burns, thorns and trees and clamping vines; he’s coughing but he can’t - “Graves. Graves,” and fuckdamnit, Graves clamps his mouth shut and refuses to let this be a fucking romance because it’s not romantic to spit weeds in your kitchen sink and wipe the blood off your chin it’s disgusting -

He hacks, coughs, chokes; he heaves and dry heaves; dizzying white spots overtake his vision and his lungs give in; the last thing he sees is Newt.

He wakes up.

He wakes up, and his chest feels... unfamiliar. It’s been full of plants for so long, he’s forgotten what it’s like to breathe. He pushes himself up, achingly, slow, holy fuck had he really lost that much muscle that even this is a fucking trial, but there’s an exhausted resignation behind his anger.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Newt asks from the uncomfortable metal chair next to Graves’ uncomfortable metal hospital bed. “You nearly died.”

He looks pale. Drawn. Lack of sleep, Graves identifies, though the worry’s been dragging on him for a while.

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated,” he says, stiffly.

“Obligated?” Newt repeats. “To what, help you? I offered enough times, I thought it was obvious I wanted to. Besides,” and here he starts to get heated, running his hands through his hair in agitation, “You were dying. How did you let it get so bad? Why didn’t you - this has been going on for months, I thought you just didn’t want me to help you. I didn’t realise you were happy doing nothing!”

“Who the fuck else was meant to help? I can’t control it.”

“Who - what? Wait.” He squints. “Graves,” he says slowly. “What did you think was happening?”

Graves hunches his shoulders. The urge to say nothing and try and deflect is ridiculously strong, but he’s not actually five anymore, so. He doesn’t. “I had a damn garden in my ribcage,” he says. “Picking flowers out my teeth like the heroine of a trashy novel.” He fought it as long as he could, and then he couldn’t fight it and Newt was there. Newt saw. And when Graves woke up, Newt was still there, and the flowers weren’t. He hunches his shoulders and hates the tiny part of him that’s glad Newt was a decent human being and didn’t let him die, because there’s nothing romantic in dying to love. It’s shit. Love me or kill me is shit. The whole thing is shit. He didn’t mean to drag Newt into it.

“Hanahaki,” Newt identifies, and fucker, he looks surprised. “You thought it was hanahaki. Graves. It wasn’t hanahaki.”

“I think as the one living through the fecking thing -”

“Graves,” Newt repeats, more insistently. “It was an infection of a parasitic plant you inhaled as a spore that was growing in the lining of your lungs. It wasn’t hanahaki.” And, when Graves just glowers at him dubiously, “Hanahaki is unrequited love. If it was hanahaki...” he hesitates, then braces himself and continues, overly casual and awkward with it. “If it was hanakahi, it would’ve stopped. Um. Months ago. So it wasn’t and you don’t have to worry and if it ever happens again please go to a doctor instead of hiding it?”

Go to a doctor, what’s a doctor meant to do? There’s no spell for a broken - wait. What.

The only way to stop hanahaki is for the other person to love you back.

What.

“Months ago?” Graves croaks out. Newt nods, his awkwardness now highlighted with a blush across his freckled cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Months. You. Months?”

“I made you coffee,” Newt points out, as though that was supposed to be a defence for the fact that, apparently, Graves’ love hasn’t been unrequited for damn months -

“Do you want to be requited,” he blurts out, because why not, why ever the fuck - this is exactly why he never confessed his feelings, fuck it, do you want to be requited what in the seven hells is he saying. “I mean, if, uh, if you wanted to, um, we could. If. You want?”

Newt ducks his head. Probably to hide his laughter. Why. Why does Graves do these things to himself.

“Yeah,” Newt says, too softly for someone bemoaning the idiot that’s fallen in love them. He looks up through the ridiculous floof his his hair and he’s still blushing, but he’s also smiling, tentative and hopeful and very much not being pressured into anything by a stupid romantic disease. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Oh,” Graves manages around the entirely different sort of lightness in his chest. “That’s. Good.”

It’s also an insane kind of whiplash to deal with, and one that might take a while to sink in. He’s learnt both that Newt loves him and that his lungs, apparently, have been infested with spores for the past god knows how long. If Grindelwald did this there will be hell.

He just - spores? Fucking. Disgusting. Spores were meant to produce mushrooms, weren’t they, which might be no less horrifying in theory but at least they’d’ve been easier to bring up than branches.

God, imagine if it were cactuses.

Actually no. Don’t imagine that. What the fuck. Back to Newt loving him, that’s a much better thing to focus on, it’s a delightful thing, it’s, holy shit. It’s.

“You love me,” he says, with that sort of wondering disbelief that comes when something sounds too good to be true. “You’re not just saying it because flowers?”

“You drank the coffee I made you,” Newt says instead of answering. “No one ever drinks the coffee I make them. I can’t make coffee. I can’t believe you drank it.” And, when Graves just looks confused (whiplash, plus he nearly died) he just smiles again and says, “Yes, Graves. I love you and I’m not just saying it because flowers.”

“Oh.” That’s. That’s good. That’s. Yeah. “I think I love you too.”

(thank fuck it wasn’t cactuses)

#gramander #percival graves #newt scamander #hanahaki disease #so a genuine question to anyone who reads the tags #would you put this as angst?#i mean #maybe?#but humour #can angst be humour?#also fluffy ending bc it's me but that's beside the point #am genuinely curious #someone recently called me an angst author who also writes fluff and i had a crisis of identity #anyway #enjoy #my writing

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void-tiger · 3 years

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Tagged by @curiosity-killed (thanks for the tag!!)

roses or daisies:

DAISIES!!! They’re so simple and cheery have just as many colors and look delicate but are actually really tenacious? Also, how charming is Day’s Eye (and asters in general having the habit of facing eachother if they’re not turned towards the light--I think I have a picture of dahlias doing this from last autumn--and like. Star Flower. Okay, I’ll shut up now xD )

classical or lofi:

...okay so I admit I had to look this one up. But easily some of my favorite tracks are those Hidden Ones that bands plop onto their albums to fill up leftover space, but are often basically just scrapped recording or practice sessions? The bloopers and their creative process, basically. Cut to me googling and youtubing it and finding hiphop lofi and...yeah! Definitely Lofi.

(Classical vs OST and Modern Classical (that’s composed to be a lot more cinematic) just...really puts me on edge. It’s too mathematical...to put it nicely.)

So...yeah. Slow beats and something that sounds experimental or like a jamming session? It’s soothing and kinda ideal for background noise.

sunrises or sunsets:

Sunset. One, never ever gonna be a “morning person”. Forget it. Two, sunsets often have more dramatic colors and still make the landscape glow and you get to see stars peeping out vs fading. Also, y’know. I’m actually awake to appreciate it vs groggy and legit physically ill.

honey or lemon:

Honey as a condiment. Lemon for sweets flavor. (Baklava’s probably the exception...then again I haven’t had that many honey-flavored sweets, I guess? But Lemon-Poppyseed?? Definitely one of my favorites,)

coffee or tea:

Coffee. I adore tea service aesthetics and will someday probably collect them (especially the really quirky or earthen or blownglass ones vs the froufrou european ones)...buuuut, I just haven’t really had A Good Cuppa Tea much at all. There was this spiced tea I’ve had in Jordan that was AMAZING and I do like greentea (with...A LOT of sugar or honey...) but. I’ve just never really had tea. My family’s coffee drinkers, so the smell of coffee is nostalgic. (And yes, I’m basic enough that I prefer flavored, sweetened creamers; and my coffee brewed or spiced with, like, cinnamon and nutmeg, too. Or as a mocha.)

...I also have a Bad Habit of abandoning my Herbal “Teas” with the bags either left steeping too long (I have gotten better at using a timer) or while waiting for them to cool. And while I’d just really love it for Uncle Iroh to make me tea (provided he doesn’t get on my case about wanting sugar and maybe cream), the Times and Temperatures are just so dang fussy!! I...don’t think I have the patience for that.

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers:

Friends to Lovers. I just...don’t Get It with the sexual tension~ that seems to be the driving force behind enemies to lovers...I guess?? (That, and unless it’s literally on a battlefield, HARD PASS. I’ve had people try to blow off my complaints about getting repeatedly tormented as “he liiiiiikes you~” bullshit to ever be comfortable with it as anything but Legit Two Sides Of A Battle/Political Conflict. Sorry.)

But, Friends to Lovers? That Bond. And then the ...Oh. The domesticity and trust and safety. Also it is RIPE for Idiots to Lovers mutual pining xD

(bonus points if both parties decide ahead of time, “hey. even if dating doesn’t work out I still value your friendship in my life, so no pressure about ‘ruining things,’“ And then, of course, it does work out and there was nothing to be anxious about, after all.)

rainy days or sunny days:

...cop out but, overcast days with Soft Sunlight and Cloudbreaks?? I do like a clear skies sunny day, but, my eyes are also so sensitive to light that it can be painful. Rainy days can be soothing...but the rain has to be A Certain Way. Too heavy and with too much wind behind it and it can get me anxious. (My childhood home had Every Rain is Severe Weather...with no place to shelter. It’s gonna take awhile before i can appreciate it like i’d want.)

jupiter or mars:

Jupiter. GIANT. DEADLY. MARBLE (that wants to eeeaaat meeeee...) Also Pluto, and the jovian moons.

aphrodite or athena:

Athena!! She’s an ace icon, aight?? And also strikes me as...very, very Tired with everyone’s bullshit. Also...all the greek gods are kinda assholes. So. Yeah. She ain’t perfect and her characterization’s at the mercy of whatever myth in question, but generally she strikes me as practical and sensible and having Mercy...sometimes. As much as that group is capable of it, anyway...

rome or greece:

...probably Ancient Rome as a “ancient culture to explore but a YIKES (but. so is ancient greece.)” But visiting IRL in the present? Greece.

sun or moon:

Moon. I appreciate what the sun does and I do like feeling sunlight and all that...but, I’m also a night person. And I can look at the moon without risk of blindness and admire its corona and that rainbow corona you can see just a bit further out if you know where and how to look. BUT. The moon easily loses out to a starfield, especially if the light pollution and humidity are both low enough that ya get to actually see the milky way’s galaxy arm. (The irony that the sun IS our local star does not elude me.)

1920s or 1990s:

...neither?? 90s only slightly win out ‘cause I’m a ‘93 Kid and the 90s and 00s had some incredible toys and cartoons. And, idk. I still like overall pants and shorts. Always have. While a flapper dress would be “oooh pretty! starlight beading! Now OFF. Back to regular clothes for ‘Sporing or Comfy Lounging.”

blizzard or thunderstorm:

Blizzard. Also. Have you considered...thundersnow??

(Admittedly? I’ve also never been through a snowstorm that threatened by health&safety. The same cannot be said about thunderstorms when nearly every one could or would spawn tornados and severe straightline winds that could knock down trees and powerlines and sometimes even damage homes. While living in a home with NO safe place to shelter. Not even an interior closet or bathroom. NOT. FUN.)

midnight memories or made in the am:

...what?? [googles] ...OH...they’re...albums. UH. Neither?? (I don’t listen to them...?)

sage green or vanilla white:

Sage green. It’s kinda a nostalgic color somehow? Also. Just not a fan of monochrome...at all. I see it? I instantly want it to be a backdrop. Negative space. For COLOR. (jewel tones for whites/light neutrals and browns; NEONS for blacks and dark greys. Preference for Jewel Tones over Neons...wait. What was the question again??? OH YEAH..uh... I do like vanilla icecream? With rainbow sprinkles. Or...paired with hot fruit pie or cobbler. Or cookies. Um...yeah I should prolly shutup now. xD )

folklore or lover:

...I don’t...understand??? But...I like Folkslore as in...folklore??? Fairytales, Legends, Myths... (also, so frikkin ace I’m just. not ever gonna pick “lover”)

croissant or macaroon:

...why would you do this to me. I make a beeline for croissants because...Soft Flaky Buttery Bread. And they are So Good as a savory sandwich sorta thing. Easily better than english muffins or crumpets, tho biscuits have a fighting chance. But LIKE. Soft breads. My weakness as a kid.

...but a good macaroon?? It is so light and crisp and TINY and like?? how does it taste like coffee??? and berries????? (Too bad they are So EXPENSIVE. While even cheap croissants are almost always Good.)

ballgowns or pantsuits:

I like the aesthetics of a ballgown. But never the pricetag, I wouldn’t wanna live in that thing for more than an hour, tops (and. so much damn work!!) and I’m stuck looking at them Defying (boob) Physics and just...dying a little inside. With my rare It Pretty Want Pretty wilting with it. But...it’s rare that pantsuits really...look like anything. (They also look uncomfortable and yet another Wardrobe Disaster and Do I HAVE To??? if I think about...actually wearing them. But, Legs Free No Tripping...I guess??)

hades or zeus:

I only wanna EVER meet Zeus if I get to castrate the bastard and lock ‘im up where he’ll NEVER get back out. Hades, tho...I’m WATCHING you, Bub. (Why yes, I agree with Demeter on this one.)

platonic love or sensual love:

Platonic. Cuddling and Kissing are technically Sensual but, y’know what? They ain’t exclusive to sexual or romantic loves (and I just. really do not want kissing at all. MAYBE a quick kiss on the forehead or fingertips but LIKE. That’s it. And it’s cute af for...literally ANY Love Type.)

light academia or cottagecore:

Honestly? A mix between the two. Cottagecore with my charming little home with its overgrown flowerbed of wildflowers (and asters! All the asters) and produce grown in large pots or hanging baskets...and inside the walls are covered with overflowing shelves of books and knicknacks and other Neat Things. Oh, and naturally a tea service (might not actually have tea in it...) and tons of pillows and blankets, and lamps and lanterns Everywhere for warm and soft (and colorful) light to read by while music plays softly in the background. And the home smells like something I just made for Supper or Snacks, or like a food-scented candle.

Aaaaaand tagging @mckinlily @headspacedad @aairachnid @synergetic-prose and whoever else wants to play! No obligation to play if tagged.

#tagged meme #tiger’s musings #long post

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely Harry Styles au pair AU-

Chapter 3

Another Day Till Paradise

HI! Thanks for reading, to @chasm2018, for brainstorming, @papiermachecat for the catalyst, and @dirtystyles and @emulateharry for the read through!

Enjoy!

"Just one more set of notes to go over and I get to put this case away forever! And we get to go to Malibu!" Vee sing-songed into the phone. Harry's chuckle was in key with her happiness.

"It's a long time coming, I know." She could imagine his fond smile. "You've been working hard for months."

"Months and months." She stretched long and groaned a little.

"You tired?" He asked. "You were up before Maribel and out the house."

"I am, but also really restless. I was so excited about putting this one to bed, I wasn't able to sleep much myself." She started to get her auto dictating stuff together. She usually typed things, but she was feeling the 12 hours she'd been up and knew the words would blur. She'd do it like this and have her assistant proof and file. She was ready to go home. That meant she needed to get off the phone. "What are the babies doing?" She asked instead.

"Oh, well, they are thrashing about in their cribs." She heard him move the monitor. "Looks like Bel is up and staring at Teo, willing him awake."

"Seems late for them to sleep." Since they dropped to one nap it was just after lunch until 2:30.

"We had that date with Jameson's nanny from playgroup, remember? They are on a slightly later schedule, so I fed them and then had them walk the short distance home."

"How did you do that?" Her mind boggled trying to picture it, she was sure her eyes goggled too.

He laughed. "I alternated. One by hand, the other on my hip, and when one started whining while the other started to drop off, I switched them." God, he was strong.

"Nice." Vee really should go.

"Yeah it worked a treat. You done typing the brief? when will you be home?" She heard him click off the monitor. "Teo is more than stirring now."

"Um," she'd be about done had she either got off the phone to dictate or typed it while they spoke. She opened a doc and started typing. She may be tired, but this was faster. "Give me a half an hour."

"Need to let me go?" She kinda did. He was walking, his breath was a little faster.

"No, put me on speaker and let me talk to the babies. We can wake them together." She heard a cry.

"Oh no need to wake them. But mamas voice may quiet them." She put her own phone on speaker and talked with Teo while she heard Harry with Maribel in the background.

She'd be jealous she wasn't there except she would be for the next two weeks. Harry had a friend in LA, a wealthy one (she'd have to ask about that), who had offered his beach house. She'd been bandying about vacation ideas when Harry's face brightened in that way he had. His ideas were usually brilliant, and he told great stories, though usually his tales of their day revealed more about himself than any direct question she had asked him. When she asked about him, he'd shrug and go over his CV. Born in the north of England, divorced parents, amazing mum, lovely sister, moved to the states to do his doctorate, couldn't keep up with the expense, was in sabbatical to earn some money to finish.

Those were all pleasant facts, except the divorce, his face scrunched like bitter lemon on that tidbit, but they weren't really about him. The thing she knew, were from observation, or his long asides.

He liked his coffee black but his tea strong and sweet, and only from a pot, not a bag. His favorite meal was breakfast and he ate it at all times of the day and night. Once she'd found him making pancakes at 2:30 am. "Couldn't sleep, and it's always a good time for pancakes," he'd grinned. "Try it." So she'd sat at the breakfast bar and been a good student of anytime breakfast. He also liked to grab cold pancakes as a snack, as did her babies now. "I use the whole grain mix and put in eggs, so they get protein." He'd looked for approval.

He looked for her approval a lot. She wasn't sure if he was trying to keep her involved, was being polite, or really was unsure. Harry's ideas and ways were nearly always A+.

He had asked for approval on the Malibu idea. And he'd told the story in that meandering way of his. Vee, how she'd come to think of herself since he adopted the nickname, usually left with more information about him, and less about whatever the actual topic.

The day they'd been talking about vacation ideas was a perfect example. Harry had been sitting across from her with that sweet little cock to his head he got when she was talking at length. It might be the first time in her life she felt like somebody listened to her and really liked it. Her mama did too, now, but when she was little her mama had been so tired. She worked too hard, too much, and too many jobs. Mama was tired when she got home, and she never had the money or paid time off for a vacation. Because of that, all that scarification, Vee did.

"I should be done with this case at month ends I think I'd really like to go somewhere, relax, play with the babies, sleep in."

Harry laughed. "Vacation with the twins means you won't be getting to sleep in much."

"Not if you come with us." She raised her eyebrows at him. He deserved a vacation too. He'd been working a lot right along with her. She'd paid him extra, but wanted to do more, and there was the other benefit. "Then we can switch off days, I'll keep them most nights, but maybe you can keep them a few mornings?" She hoped he liked the idea, or maybe he would like to just have the time off to see friends, or maybe even go home. "If you want too." She tried to take the pressure off, scale back the hope in her eyes.

"I think that vacation sounds amazing!" His dimples were so huge, she liked that they showed sometimes even when he wasn't smiling. He was now. "What kind of vacation were you thinking, mountains, beach, big city? Driving or flying?"

He was about to keep going when she cut him off. He might start talking about his favorite vacation when he was 12, or something, and entertaining as that time in Portugal may have been, it wasn't germane to the moment.

"I would actually just love to get out of the city, but still have city amenities. Beaches, and laying around, with nice food and hiking, but not an all inclusive. Ya know. And sunsets. I'd really love some devastating sunsets." She missed heat too. "Somewhere warm. And flying. But not too far. And no layovers. Not with Beli and Teo."

Harry had straightened up in his chair and smiled with flashing eyebrows. He'd put a finger up while he stood before disappearing into a room. He came back 15 min later with the same light on his face stirred together with a bit of triumph.

"I have the perfect vacation for us!" He grabbed the barstool he'd vacated with one dinner plated sized hand and sat across from her. Then leaned in with his chin on his fist. "Have you ever been to LA?"

Victoria wasn't able to school her face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But there are some really amazing things to do and see there, if you avoid the star walk and such." She'd not been to the star wall. She'd been there for a conference and hadn't seen much but the walls of it, and the immediate area in downtown LA. She hadn't been impressed.

"How'd you know so much about LA?" It was on the other side of the world after all, from the place that imprinted on his voice.

"Oh, I have family, although I guess more close family friends there," he stopped to puzzle over the tree and its branches. "Yeah, just my dad's old college mate, not actually blood relations, though I called him uncle my whole life. Anyway, I wasn't sure where I wanted to go for my post grad. I talked to myself about the requisite places in England. But Oxford and Cambridge seem so stuffy."

"And Harvard isn't stuffy?" She'd gone to Brown.

He had a goofy snicker sometimes. It might be her favorite flavor of his laugh. "Not nearly as cool as Brown. Who went there?" He rapped his chin. "Oh JFK Jr! That's right. Who else?"

There was a list but she just narrowed her eyes.

"Anyway. The opposite of stuffy seemed like California. So I decided that Stanford might be nice. So I called my 'uncle' in LA to see if I could stay with him and commute to school or something."

Vee giggled.

"Ya, I had no idea how big California was. I guess I figured it was like San Francisco, Stanford. LA. Three hours tops, make a tour, see the sights, catch the vibe," he mimicked a surfboard and she lost it.

She was full out laughing by now. His hand illustrations and the little literal hop, skip, and a jump he performed before that. He should go to Disneyland too with that level of animation. "Did your uncle teach you different?"

"Well, no, like kinda. He mostly just was excited to have me. But we went to his house on the beach in Malibu first and then drove to Stanford. Which was beautiful. Up the coast."

"Isn't that like 12 hours?"

"Like 10, I dunno, forever, but we stopped in Monterey. That was nice. And beachfront. By the time we got to Palo Alto, which means high stick by the way, that's a weird name for a town, I was disappointed. The weather was way better in Malibu. Also I had imagined Stanford was waterfront."

"It's not far. The whole state can't be on the ocean."

"Think my expectations were ruinous. I had no idea how big the place was. But, it wasn't what I had in my mind." He shrugged.

"And Boston was." That was the puzzle. It was cold here, and definitely not postcard beaches.

"Well, it's waterfront."

"Do you do much swimming?" She asked.

"I had it in my mind to go abroad by then, and Boston seemed to have shit weather like home."

"Shittier." Vee flashed her palms like that was a given. There was more to this story, something she wasn't getting.

"Oh, Texas has better?" Harry derailed her and got up to move behind her in the kitchen. He was grabbing food now. Oooh, nap snack time. She loved when he did this. It was like an informal nosh, so different from the stuffy steak lunches at work when she had to go to client things.

How the hell did he pull together a bruschetta bar so quickly? "Made it last night." He answered her face. "Had a craving, made loads." She'd been around the office late again Friday evening, but only two more weeks until the case officially ended. Her part anyway. But she answered his cheek while she loaded up a toast point.

"Claro, San Antonio at least. Houston's a bit shit, Dallas gets cold, and hellishly hot—"

"Isn't San Antonio really hot?" He interrupted.

"Yeah, but it's a little drier, and there are hills and Austin is close, and it's just better. Certainly than Boston." She sighed. Sometimes she missed how big the sky was and that the clouds looked like cartoons.

"You'll have to show me." She'd like to. The house that built her. That was like the only country song she liked.

She smiled and nodded looking. "Yeah, sometime, you can come to when we go we abuelita. But, much as I love my mother, that's not a vacation exactly."

"Right." He nodded along. "So I just called James, my pseudo uncle, and they are going home for a month. He said we could use his beach house...." Harry's eyebrows were as high as they could go, floating on hope.

"I only have two weeks."

"Yeah, that's enough, you'll be missing the east-coast-no-bullshit by then. Everybody is fake happy and nice in California." He sounded like he was standing behind a lectern.

"Like you." She felt the need to remind him. He was the happiest person she knew. But she knew a lot of lawyers.

"Oh, mine's not fake." He shook his head.

That was true. He really was just ridiculously nice.

"But it has its perks. Last time I was there, I found this smoothie shop, amazing wheatgrass shots, and they have a vegan restaurant." he responded to her face, again. He read her like a favorite book. "When in Malibu, Vee." His smile required an answer and a question.

"What the fuck is wheatgrass?"

"You just cursed!" He covered the speaker of the monitor.

She smirked, "That's so we can hear them, not them us, tonto."

"Did you just curse again, but in Spanish?!" He made his offended face. "You def need some California vibes and lots of wheatgrass to detox that liver. All that anger!" He was s shaking his head.

"What my what? None of what you just said makes any sense." She was giggling.

"I dunno, I'm making it up, based on what I can remember about how the guy got me to drink juiced grass. He said anger lives in the liver or the pancreas or some such. But it was good! The grass, kinda. And I felt good and my skin glowed after a few days of it."

His skin always glowed.

He misunderstood her incredulity. "You'll see! We can try some—"

"I'm not drinking grass, like I never ate mud pies." Victoria insisted, shaking her head at him, but carefully keeping her elbow against him. His had come to rest against her a moment ago. He was warm. It was hard for her to find the right temperature. She didn't have that trouble when they were adjacent.

"It's a thing. A Malibu thing, guaranteed to chill you out." That phrase sounded weird and wonderful in his accent. "All we need is flights, a car, everybody drives there, and bathing suits!" He picked up his phone. "Where do they have bathing suits right now? It's outta season."

The snow was black and melting. They may get one more blanket, or not. It was technically spring, just not in Boston.

"Target, it's almost Spring break." She reminded.

The corners of his lips turned down and she cocked her head to the side. She needed to look at his timeline. He seemed to really want to go back to school. She'd miss him dearly, but maybe they could work something out. Maybe she could hire somebody else for when he was in class and studying?

His brow cleared and brightened with an idea. "Wanna go pick stuff out while they finish their nap? Then we can meet you at the green. I'll bundle them up."

She checked her weather app. "Layers, the actual sun may come out!" She was already putting on her purse.

Vee had essentially been packing since that day, little by little. Well, shopping was probably a better word for it. She bought her first mum suit, and tried not to think much about it. Her old suits still fit, or fit again, just not like they used to, and her stomach had new pink welts, like veins of cotton candy, down the sides. She supposed there was nothing to be done about it, two humans had lived in there for a time. That had to leave a mark, right?

She still packed her old high cut black one piece. It looked good and she felt great in it. Victoria caught herself wondering what Harry would think of it before she switched her focus to the babies' suitcase. Like that mattered.

This mattered. Traveling with small children required stuff.

She'd been shopping for Teo and Bel as well. Who knew that resort wear for near toddlers were so adorable? There were a few pieces she knew would be super frustrating, long dress style things, cover ups she supposed. She just wasn't sure what a baby needed to cover up. But it was so damn cute she'd bought it. There was a little voice in her head that said the inhibited movement may be worth the squalling near a pool. And what a pool it was.

More like an oasis from Harr's pictures. The lush greenery around the deck was like ivy, made it private from the beach the stairs led to. There was a gate, so the kiddos couldn't fall down the path or into the foliage, and the lounge chairs looked so plush, they made her want to nap immediately. "The fabric is moisture wicking, so you don't really need a towel." Harry had told her. She felt like it was made so you could swim naked, all the privacy screens and no need for linens. Not that anybody would be doing that. Small children and platonic nanny relationships and all.

Hmm.

But the moonlight glinting off crystal blue water and the night lighting of the pool were ethereal. Still took the swimmer to a new place it looked like, but instead the island oasis of the day, it was more a fairy hill, where magic things happened.

Magic.

She missed magic. She wasn't sure she'd ever really had it. The ex, well they'd had some good days, hanging out on quads and dancing late into the night. But, they'd gone straight to law school, then to a firm. There hadn't been much frolicking. Even their honeymoon had been serious, a tour of St. Petersburg and Poland. It was his dream trip, but some of the things they saw killed the libido. There were certainly no fairy lights or naked swimming.

Had she ever skinny dipped? That seemed like something that should have happened, and she was too old now to add it to her bucket list.

Was she too old?

Maybe it was time to start dating. She felt lonely. And was thinking about Harry in weird ways. She supposed it was just that they were going to a beautiful place that could be romantic. They made good friends, partners really, but he was younger, and they maybe flirted a tiny bit sometimes, but there was nothing romantic. He was just the nearest male. She needed some attention maybe. She hadn't in ages.

Victoria imagined kissing someone, a faceless someone, on one of the loungers, after a delicious midnight dip, of the thin variety. Wet lips and cool skin, hot breath. The feel on long fingers on both sides of her cheeks holding her still to deepen the kiss. The slide and wiggle of a rough tongue along her top mouth. Vee could feel the plump bottom lip she imagined, and the broad back under her hands as she was rolled under most of the 60's, if the dates on his shoulders were a timeline. The v of the back to a slim waist against her palms as they slid over skin beaded with cool water, and strong thighs with bits of text and fauna etched against the crux of her. She stood and defiantly closed the zipper.

That got oddly specific .

She needed to go on a date. But, obviously, after they got back from Malibu. Could she make up an excuse to leave the kids with Harry one day and meet with someone at the four seasons? Could she swipe right? She didn't think so. She'd just book a massage instead. The reviews there were amazing.

The knock startled her attention away from her suitcase. The door was open, the knock was courtesy.

"Hey, Harry!" She brightened her voice and smoothed her hair. For a moment, she thought about avoiding eye contact, but that would be a tell. She never did that. Especially not in court--a good suit and strong eye contact were good armor. He'd know something was up, she just had to pretend she wasn't just thinking of him on top of her or a liaison with a random to distract her from it. "You packed?"

"Yeah, did it during nap time today. Thought I'd see if you wanted help with the twins' bags?"

"No, gracias." Ohhh she was distracted. "I did them mostly yesterday, just got together the things that came today."

"And you are done?"

She fidgeted with the zipper her hand was still on, looked at it, so she didn't have to be staring into his eyes anymore. Eye contact was good, until it was eye fucking. She didn't want to get caught there, and her mind was still under the moon. "Yes!"

"It's easy to pack when everything is new huh?" His voice was lined with laughter. His teasing voice; she loved when she caught him talking to the littles in it. The dimples pressed into his voice and his cheeks.

"I put a few older things in there." She was looking in his eyes again. The smile was there too, and in her answering grin.

"Swimsuits, a dress or two you don't intend to wear?" He guessed expertly.

"How do you know that."

"Sister, mum." He shrugged. "But, since you're done, nightcap?"

It was only 9 pm, but their flight was ungodly early, so the kiddos would hopefully sleep until the airport, and they could get a full day on top of travel. "No, a melatonin is probably a better idea. Thanks though." Wine or anything like it, was a bad idea. Red wine made her languorous and chatty. Nope. And horny, which she was already battling, for the first time in a good while.

"Ok, see you before the sun."

"Yes, what a way to start the day!" She felt lame. That was lame, right? But he giggled.

"Oh yeah, I usually like it from the other side more."

"I used to, when you get to be my age, you'll see."

He rolled his eyes, but they had had this discussion before. "Sleep well, Victoria."

He didn't really call her that. She liked the way the syllables rolled off his tongue.

She needed that melatonin. No thinking about his tongue. Anymore thinking about his tongue. She'd need the moon medicine and to meditate, or something, to sleep.

In the end, meditating turned into masturbating, and she slept like a baby, for longer than she had in two months thanks to the case. She was thankful, the flight was hell. They were delayed, their early flight for baby sleep plan backfired, and they didn't make it to the beach house until sundown. And the kids were already sleeping as it was almost their bed time by their internal clocks.

She wished she could pretend she had jet lag, or she was tired at all. Instead, she was shaking from all the coffee she had consumed. Harry, too. They both drank iced coffee the way you were supposed to drink water.

They'd put the babies in the appointed room, where their hosts had put a lovely crib for them. It was only a minute to get the pack and play up. They'd have to alternate nights, seemed fair, though the babies would never know.

She watched them for a second. Two years ago, in the throes of a dying marriage, she'd have never imagined this life, this new life.

Part of that was Harry, he was a godsend. They had dealt with the rough travel day together, baby switches and breaks included.

Apart from the shakes from all the iced coffee he kept producing, she could not fault him. He'd make somebody a great partner one day.

"Victoria?" She heard and followed the voice. The house was a good size, but not so large she couldn't hear him, and most of the place had a fantastic view.

The view outside was way better than the pictures. The sun was going down and the sunset started like cotton candy, there was a widening purple streak, and from the stairs down to the desk she could see the sun sinking into the ocean. It looked like it went on forever. It stole her breath.

Here sense was taken as well, because the view on the deck was better, Harry was stood between two of the plush deck chairs she had dreamed of and had fantasies about. He had two glasses of champagne, and was backlit by the sunset.

The worst of it, was that he was shirtless.

"Dios mio!" she exclaimed.

"Right," he opened his arms and turned around. His back was broader than she imagined. "Could this view be more gorgeous?

No, no it couldn't.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles famfic #tbsl #to be so lonely #chapter 3

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cilldaracailin · 4 years

Text

A Kind of Magic

Thanks for the love on the story! Here is some more :)

“I want my home to be that kind of place--a place of sustenance, a place of invitation, a place of welcome.”

“You literally meant three minutes.” Commented Taron as Robyn turned right down a cull de sac. “So, this is where you bring me to kill me right?” He asked as he looked through the windshield of the car at the narrow road that was lined on the left with trees and bushes, with an odd house on the right side.

“You are not the first person to ask me that and honestly, if I wanted to kill you, could have done it a couple of days ago.”

“Touché.” He replied with a smile.

“I’m right at the end. Even though the area is now quite built up, no one comes down our little road and it still real private and quiet.”

Taron watched with interest as Robyn drove them into the driveway of the last property on the road and he was absolutely taken aback at what he saw.

“Shit I thought you said you lived in an apartment.”

“I do.”

“Robyn this is not an apartment. This is a house.”

“It looks like a house from the outside but it’s really not a house. It’s small inside.”

Taron didn’t seem too sure as Robyn stopped the car outside a single storied building that was white washed but the window sills and lower sections of the walls were painted a pastel blue. Window boxes with flowers sat on the window sills and the front door was also painted the same pastel blue as the other features on the house. There was a large clear window on the left side with a frosted one on the right.

“This is a house.” Said Taron again as he eased himself carefully out of the car.

“It’s not a house.”

Taron looked around the drive and admired the neat green garden with tidy flowerbeds that surrounded the stone drive all the way to the gates that were open.

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“The weather helps.” Agreed Robyn. “But it’s a bit miserable when it rains.” She opened the back door to her car and pulled out Taron’s duffle, swinging it over her right shoulder. “And to be fair, it did use to be a house but a very small one.” She finished as Taron grinned at her.

“I knew it.”

“I just don’t class it as a house. It used to be my granny’s house.” She explained as she locked the car and walked around to stand with Taron at the bonnet. “The granny who I am named after, she left her house to me but I wasn’t allowed to actually have it until I turned eighteen. It’s an old house and it used to be very old fashioned house with a very old fashioned Irish interior with six rooms inside but once I got my hands on it, I made quite a few changes over the last couple of years so now I call it an apartment rather than a house.”

“It’s lovely Robyn.”

She started to walk towards her front door, looking for the key on the set in her hands. “Thanks Taron. Would you like to see inside?”

“Yes please.”

Robyn found her house key and opened the door, popping the code in for the alarm on the keypad on the right after she had opened the door. “Come on in and don’t be worrying about taking your shoes off. I am so not that type of house owner.”

Taron walked past Robyn and was immediately met with lots of light, natural light that came from a ceiling to floor glass wall directly opposite him. He heard Robyn close the door and she walked past him with his bag and he followed her as she walked into her kitchen and dropped his bag carefully on the island in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Wow Robyn. That window.” Said Taron his eyes still focused on the all glass wall.

“They are actually doors. They can open out or when the weather is like this, they can fold all the way back too.”

“Seriously?”

“I told you I made some changes. Let me show you around.” Robyn walked onto the white tiled floor of her kitchen. “First and foremost, while you stay here, treat my home as your own. You do not have to ask me to make a cup of tea, eat anything from the fridge and the wifi is free.” She was really starting to enjoy the sound of Taron laughing. “However, I do charge for the use of towels.” She said with a smirk as she turned around. “This is the kitchen. There happens to be a lot of baked goods in my fridge at the moment, so yeah, would be good if you helped me eat those.”

“You have been baking?” He asked admiring the blue wooden cabinets of her kitchen. It was the first time he had seen a colour like it in a kitchen.

“When I can’t sleep, I bake.” She answered simply, ignoring his frown and moved out of the kitchen and to the right to a door which she opened. “This is kinda like a laundry room come closet but also has an entrance to the bathroom too. You can use the washing machine whenever you want, no need to ask and if you do happen to need towels, there are always fresh ones in here.”

Robyn closed the door and walked past the kitchen and into her sitting room which was partly separated from the kitchen by a large fish tank which sat a waist high wooden book shelf.

“This is the comfiest couch in the world, if I do say so myself.” She said standing beside a grey L shaped couch, littered with many cushions of all various shades of blue which matched the ocean blue painted wall behind the couch that had a large picture of dolphins on it. “And I am not gonna lie, I spend a lot my time in the evenings snug in this amazing teddy bear fleece throw in the corner of the couch watching TV.”

Taron smiled. “That sounds like my perfect evening.” He then turned to walk towards the glass doors. “This is just amazing Robyn, though wouldn’t it get very hot in here on days like today if the doors aren’t opened.”

“Why yes Taron it would which is why I had this installed.” Robyn walked past him and picked up a small white controller from the glass coffee table and after she pushed a button, Taron heard a whirling noise. “A lot of people laughed at me when I had the air conditioning installed but it has been a God send these last few days and nights. I have one in my bedroom too and I only use it when the weather is ridiculous hot. It doesn’t happen very often but with all the glass in here, it can get really warm so the air-con helps a lot.”

Taron moved and immediately felt a cooling breeze from the unit on the wall above the television. “I might just stand here for a few minutes if that is ok.”

“This weather is unexpected but normally the way here when the schools are ready to open after summer holidays.”

While Robyn was speaking Taron was quickly distracted from the air conditioning that felt wonderful on his hot skin as he saw a beautiful mahogany upright piano against the wall between the fish tank and television which he walked over to. “Play badly huh?”

Robyn followed Taron to the piano where he lifted the lid and his fingers played a simple C chord. “Yes, play badly. Anyone can have a piano and not play well and I told you, I prefer the classical pieces anyway.” She moved his hand from the keys and closed the lid again.

“Your home is beautiful Robyn.” He said as he turned to look at her.

“Thank you. It is my little sanctuary. We have two more rooms to see.”

Robyn walked past the L couch and into her bedroom. “It’s a bit messy.” She apologised. “I haven’t actually made the bed.”

“Don’t be worrying Robyn. It’s fine.” Taron was once again met with beams of natural light and he walked around her bed and to another set of glass doors. “Do these ones fold back too?”

“Yeah they do.”

“Doesn’t it get really bright though when the sun comes up?”

“I have back out curtains. Even though I love the light, I always need complete darkness at night.”

Taron turned around and took in Robyn’s room. The wall behind the bed was painted the same ocean blue as the one in the living room and her duvet cover was the colour of a Caribbean ocean. Opposite the bed, a television was bolted to the wall and in the corner at the glass doors, a white make up table with an oval mirror.

“Yeah I like the colour blue, if you hadn’t of guessed.” She blushed as she watched Taron take in her room. “It reminds me of the ocean.”

“I like it and I like that picture too.” He said pointing to the picture of the sunset on the beach on the wall above her bed.

“That was actually taken at Clearwater beach.” Said Robyn. “From the first time I went there. The bathroom is through here too.”

Robyn turned and walked into her closet and heard Taron following her. “Erm I am not very high maintenance and don’t really care about luxury things but I really wanted something fancy for myself so I chose a so-called walk-in wardrobe. I am very organised at work but messy at home and having all the extra space for clothes and stuff just makes it easier for me not to be messy, or gives me space just to throw stuff in so it’s not on the floor. The bathroom is this way.” She continued on into her bathroom. “You can’t actually see through that window.” She explained when Taron looked to the large frosted window. “It just adds some light and the bath maybe could also qualify as being fancy but I bloody hate it when you want to have a bath and you can’t sink into the water and your knees stick out and the bubbles don’t cover you so, yeah I splashed out and bought a pretty big one.”

Robyn took a second and then started to laugh, Taron soon following her. “Oh God that was a terrible joke that I did not mean. I have a shower too though. Again Taron, use whatever you need to in here, except for my razor. Don’t touch!”

Robyn turned and walked out of the bathroom, through the closet and back into the bedroom. “And that’s me.” She said as she sat on the bed, Taron sitting beside her, his hand going to his side as his ribs started to protest with an ache. “It’s my space for me. I really like my freedom and am one of those people who really enjoy their own company. Although it looks expensive and all that, it’s not something that happened all at once. I have been adding bits here and there for years, saving to buy what I know I would like.”

“I really like your home Robyn. I love the openness but at the same time, its cosy and homely and the fact that you have done it all yourself makes it even more special.

Robyn gently nudged him with her left leg. “Thanks Taron.”

The doorbell ringing made them both look towards the door.

“Give me two seconds. I am waiting for my things to be sent on from Florida so it could be those.”

Robyn jumped up and quickly jogged out of the bedroom leaving Taron sitting on the bed. He couldn’t explain how she managed to do it but Robyn just put him at complete ease and being in her home just settled him further and that niggling doubt he had felt while he sat on the wall in the heat outside had completely disappeared. He had been right and Robyn had taken him into her work and home without question. However, he was still upset with her for the reason that she left him in the hospital. He hated the pressure that came with his profession of being perfect all the time and it was just wasn’t something he felt comfortable with, hating how he was constantly judged for how he looked but Robyn was pulled into his world by pure accident and he did not want her feeling like she had to be faultless and pretty because as far as Taron could see, she was. He hadn’t lied to her when he called her beautiful and it was beauty he saw inside and out. He liked how she snuggled into the hug her gave her, how her body was warm and cosy and that she wasn’t afraid to show affection his way. He loved her easy going nature but also how she could quickly switched into protective mode but more so how she had opened up to him so easily when she admitted she was having just a hard of time as he was, although he hadn’t forgotten that she had told him she was having nightmares about him. It was something he knew he wanted to talk to her about, even more so after seeing for himself the bruises on her hands that matched the ones on his chest.

The softness of her bed felt so nice especially after sitting on hard airplane seats and he found himself turning around and kicking his legs up onto the bed and leaning backwards with a groan. It felt like heaven apart from the fact that his legs dangled off the end, his head wasn’t supported and the unmade bed was scrunched up under him. With a bit of effort, he shuffled backwards up to the pillows and when he found one, he lay like a starfish, the most satisfied sigh he ever felt leaving his tired body. Even with the ease that he melted into Robyn’s bed, Taron still felt some pressure on his back especially on his tender bruised right side so he rolled over onto his left side, tucking his legs into his chest a little, his left arm sprawled out while his right hand rested on the pillow in front of his face helping to take the weight off his sore upper arm. It was comfort and sanctuary that took Taron to a place he had not seen in a very long time and sleep quickly found him. Deep easy breathes filled his lungs and his body finally found the proper rest and sleep that it desperately needed.

“Nope just an amazon…” Robyn stopped in the doorway to her bedroom when she saw Taron lying down on the bed. “Ah gosh Taron.” It was something she was anticipating but maybe not two minutes after she had left him. He was out for the count on her bed, laying on his left side, facing the windows, shoes still on but at least he had managed to lay his head on a pillow.

Robyn took in her guests appearance and sighed. She definitely preferred Taron like this and was making it her mission to use this image of peaceful Taron to re-write the ones she had of him covered in blood and shaking in her arms as he struggled to breathe. She had thought that maybe he would have liked to have a shower and freshen up, possibly eat something before he actually made an attempt to get some sleep but it seemed his wrecked body had other ideas.

Robyn walked around to her floor to ceiling glass doors and pulled the blue curtains immediately filling the room with a cool darkness, blocking out the bright sun. She picked up a similar white controller for the air conditioning unit in her bedroom and turned it on, fresh air immediately filtering in her stuffy bedroom. Robyn had been in work since seven that morning so all the windows and doors of her apartment had been closed, meaning no fresh air had been circulating. She knew that Taron was already feeling the heat from the unexpected weather, even more so because he had walked to her work, so she was very happy to be able to keep her room cool for him. As Robyn moved to close the door to the bathroom and then her closet, she could already feel her room cooling down. She turned back to Taron and figured he was going to sleep for a while so sitting at his feet, she carefully started to open the laces of his converse and loosening them, eased the shoe fully off his right foot before doing the same for his left, throwing both of his shoes on her bedroom floor. Taron hadn’t moved once as she made sure he was completely comfortable.

Robyn had always had a single bed until she moved into her own place so the first thing she had invested in was a queen size bed for her bedroom, as she knew there would be no other furniture in her room, she could use the space for a nice big bed. Taron looked almost small as he lay near the edge of the right side of the bed, tucked in a snug ball and Robyn moved up from his feet and sat gently at his back and watched him sleep. She was getting used to seeing Taron looking calm and relaxed and just out of habit she placed her hand on his side feeling him breathing evenly. The sleeve of his t-shirt had ridden up more than when he napped in her desk chair and she could see clearly now the dressing on his arm and even more bruising embellishing the top of his shoulder. It really had taken a few days for all his injuries to come to light, especially the bruising and the right side of his face looked sore and tender, the cut on his forehead under a small dressing. She could only imagine how unpleasant the plane journeys must have been for him, having to sit straight in a small middle seat. Robyn only had one connection but Taron had two and it must have been thoroughly agonising for him, so it was no wonder that he found the softness and comfort of the bed so inviting. Robyn lifted her hand as Taron moved, his face burying further into the pillow, his whole body shifting a little into a more comfortable position, a content sigh following as he settled himself.

Robyn got up off the bed, satisfied that he was finally getting that cosy bed sleep he had been craving and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door half way behind her. She walked into the kitchen, opened up the American style fridge, another luxury item she had saved for a long time to buy and taking out one of the key lime pies she had made and placed it on the counter beside the fridge. Cutting herself a slice, she put it on a plate, grabbed a spoon and went to sit in her corner on her couch.

“Hey Alexa, play Ludovico Einaudi.”

Robyn sunk into her couch, tucked her legs under her and started to eat the pie she had made yesterday, the classical music filling the apartment, the cool breeze from the air conditioning unit creating a pleasant temperature around her. As she sat, she was still finding it hard to believe that Taron was asleep in her bed, the same Taron who she had left lying in a hospital bed on Saturday. He had travelled so far just to ask her why she had left him and after being completely honest with him, he gave her a good bollocking for letting, as he called it ‘the Hollywood shit’ get to her and as much as she appreciated being called beautiful by him, it wasn’t something she felt. Her figure wasn’t perfect – she had a curvier waist, with boobs and a bum and eating baked goods didn’t help that but at home in Ireland it was easier to accept and like who she was but Robyn knew it didn’t make her beautiful.

What she did know though, was that Taron felt exactly as she did. A bundle of mixed emotions that needed to be untangled one by one. Placing her empty plate down on the coffee table, she found herself rubbing the back of her right hand, wincing as she pressed too hard on the tender skin. She leaned back on the cushions and closed her eyes, stretching her arms over her head. She was actually jealous of Taron sleeping. It was something she had been avoiding since the nightmares began and had found herself dozing once or twice at her desk but now that she could physically see Taron in the flesh and see for herself that he was very much alive and kicking, maybe she wouldn’t be as afraid to sleep now. Stretching again, Robyn burrowed further into the couch, laying her head to the side on one of the cushions, soothed by the soft piano music that filled her apartment.

It was another nightmare that caused her to jump and nearly roll off the couch, waking her up suddenly. So much for hoping that by seeing Taron would help to get rid of her bad dreams. She was glad his appearance at her work had a different outcome to the dream she just had, where it was Richard who stood at the door of the creche, angrily confronting her for killing his best friend, rather than Taron who just needed comfort. Shaking the dream off, she looked to her watch. It was just after one thirty.

“Shit, I’m late.” She said getting to her feet. Robyn had every intention of going back to work because she knew that if she got Taron asleep, he would sleep deeply and she would be able to finish off the last three hours of her sift. She quietly walked back into her bedroom and as she opened the door fully, Taron was still in the same position as before, lying on his left side. Sleep had fully gripped him and the sound of his soft breathes were just about heard over the hum of the air conditioning. She walked around to the bedside locker where she had left the controller for the air con unit and turned it down to the lowest setting. Now that room was sufficiently cooled, Robyn didn’t want Taron to feel cold but she also didn’t want him to wake up sweltering. She walked back around to the end of the bed and carefully eased the duvet from under his feet and pulled it up over his body so his bare arms were covered from the chill that has already caused goose bumps to appear on his skin.

Robyn stood and watched him sleep and before she started to feel a bit like a stalker, she walked back out to the book shelf under the fish tank. She pulled out some paper and routed for a pen in a drawer in the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar and wrote Taron a quick note. She was a little reluctant to write Taron another note, considering her first one was not a success but she made the necessary changes to this one including her phone number, the creches phone number and an explanation that she would be back by four thirty and to help himself to whatever he needed in the apartment, giving him the wifi code too. She even included a smiley face this time and a little picture of a fish too.

She walked back into the bedroom and left it on the pillow further to his left and placing a light kiss on his head, she then went back to her coffee table and turned off the air con and asked Alexa to stop playing the soft music.

She took a quick stop in the bathroom through the door in the closet to freshen up and then grabbed her keys, purse and phone which she had left by Taron’s bag and just with a little hesitation and one more check on her guest, she made her way out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her, the heat outside and in her car hitting her full force.

#taron egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Egerton Fic #Angst #Friendship #Home from Home #Trust #People you can depend on

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courtorderedcake · 5 years

Text

Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’

Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4 and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns. You get TWO chapters for the price of one! WHOA!

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings! Chapter 1/4 Chapter 2/4

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The rain pours for several more days, and Killian lurks indoors anywhere she is not, a ghost in the corners of her eyes. The cable company's arrival makes him bolder, showing the workers the drilled holes in the wood from previous owners, and identifying the ancient telephone cable.

Laughing, a bewhiskered man clapped him on the back in good nature as he held up the cord. “Haven't used these since 1910! This used a switchboard to even operate, probably used for transmission in the First War. This is a damn antique!”

Killian laughed with the men doing the installation, but as Emma looked closer, it seemed to be only for show. He followed them asking questions, watching the cables thread through walls, helping where he could. It was not a one day job, which luckily Emma had predicted.

The next day was even busier, with deliveries arriving, a team looking at the major pipes, electrical repairs and more cable installation making the quiet halls echo with voices. Emma directed what felt like a never ending stream of people carrying various items to rooms, instructed men on how she wanted furniture arranged, and helped identify the structural issues she had noticed, or take note of the ones the contractors had. Carterhaugh stood strong and not many issues were found, although the plumbing and wiring were a mess that would need to be addressed and modernized.

Around lunch time, Emma took a pop tart out of its sleeve and noticed she hadn't seen Killian all day. Walking to the back solarium and sunroom that looked over the gardens, she watched as he worked. His back muscles rippled under an undershirt, plaid flannel wrapped around his waist. His arms were deeply defined, and she didn't notice how lost in thought she was until he gave a sarcastic little wave. Blushing she gave a half wave back, stuck half the pop tart in her mouth, and quickly went back to ordering people about like some evil queen.

At the end of the day and after a hefty set of invoices, Emma collapsed in the plush chairs that sat next to the great room's fireplace. Closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, she groaned.

“Miss Swan? Are you alright?”

Killian’s voice. She nodded with a sigh, opening her eyes. “I… Your phone came today.” Nodding her head at the package that sat on a small table, she closed her eyes again.

"Oh. Okay." He looked down at the box with a frown.

"Don't worry, it literally walks you through the set up process. Just turn it on with the button, and follow the instructions." Emma stretched with a groan, letting her joints pop.

"You got a lot done today, it looks like."

"I did. The teams I chose are phenomenal, but it will be nice to be alone again here soon. I have never had a home, so I would like to enjoy this while I can."

"No home? You're an orphan, then?" he asked, and she nodded. "Did you live in a foundling home or ministry?"

"No. No. It must be different in America, I don't know what a foundling home is, actually. I lived in an orphanage, then foster homes. My adoptive mother legally got custody of me at 15. I consider her and my brother my only family."

"Ah. A foundling home is for found children, usually abandoned by their parents or orphaned by war, famine or plague."

"Oh, crap, I didn't mean to be insensitive. Those must be rare nowadays, I don't think that there's been any of that sort of thing over here for at least 60 years."

Killian muttered under his breath, laughing bitterly. "Yeah." picking up his phone he gave her a nod, then returned to work.

After a few more hours, Emma sat aside invoices neatly arranged into piles after double checking everything scanned into the cloud by her phone, and began a small fire in the grate of the ancient fireplace. She went to the kitchen for a glass of wine and some chocolate, surprised to find Killian sitting enraptured by the light of his phone screen.

"Emma, this device is… It's bloody magic. I have never seen such a small encyclopedia of knowledge. So many flowers and plants have been discovered, animals and places. The pictures are so close up I feel like I'm there -"

"Calm down, Buster, have you seriously never had internet? You might of well have been Amish."

"What's Amish?"

"Alright, forget Amish. What's your favorite thing you have learned so far."

"The sky, I've mapped the stars in detail during my time in the Navy, and written about clouds, but there are so many more names, the conditions that create them are all documented, and the stars, we've been in space -"

"How did you miss Neil Armstrong? One giant step? Do I need to rent 'The Right Stuff'?"

"When you live here, and you have no one, it's easy not to know anything but this. Thank you Emma. I… I can't say how much this means to me."

"I'm glad you like it. I guess." Emma said shyly back, surprised by the genuine delight in his voice. Shrinking back without her glass of wine, she doused the fire and went to bed instead, her stomach full of butterflies sorely in need of some Raid.

In the morning, the butterflies became a full force flock when Killian called her name from the conservatory. She waited, stopped and watched his easy jog over to her over the parquet as wingbeats tickled her insides. The rose he held out to her did nothing to help her distress either.

"Would you let me take you for lunch, out on the meadow? It's a perfect day to watch the clouds come in, and you look like you could use a break. I'd like to repay you for the phone. It's been truly… I have not words in which I can express my gratitude fully."

At her hesitation, he backtracked. "If you don't want to, please, it's alright. I'll just go -"

"No, no. You're right, it's a beautiful day for it. Yes. Yes, let's have lunch. I'll set up some quilts and you can meet me there."

"Cheese sandwiches alright?"

"As long as there's cocoa."

These lunches become a weekly part of their routine. On the nicest days they find one another wandering the grounds, and in the rain the eat in the kitchen or in the solarium watching rain pour down the glass. There are many nice days, mild breezes carrying the sound of their lively conversations, the weather becoming temperate and fair. He brings tea, cookies, cakes and sandwiches, while Emma brings pop tarts, cocoa or coffee.

It turns out that his sense of humor is actually amusing, her face and sides hurting from the way he somehow gets her. It's in the late summer, when he places a daisy crown on her head while talking about the constant storm on Jupiter (he's obsessed with learning everything about space and technology lately), and she realizes after that she didn't flinch. It's easy to forget that he hasn't been a fixture in her life forever when he greets her in the morning in the kitchen, or when he gives her a lazy grin with a wave with soil covered hands.

It's hard to be in the quiet when Killian has recited poetry, or shows her how to tell if a tree is 'wick', and how to take cuttings to grow more of certain bushes that have started to thin. She reciprocated to her own surprise, and tells him about life in the city, about the movies she loves, and about the best apps for his phone. He's great at candy crush, has a following on GreenThumb, and when she lets him on her Spotify he shocks her with a Playlist of roaring twenties, classical, and old swing band songs mixed with the classic rock he has heard her screeching out lyrics into a broom handle. Emma watched him weave magic with plants, feeling aimless and antsy when she went back to work in the house alone.

Occasionally he joined her, and in those moments it's almost as if he saw the house in its full glory. He knows everything there is to know, except the local legend of the estate.

"So did the family really just up and disappear? Were they really cursed by Leprechauns?"

"Fae folk." The grimace he made was tight when he gritted out the words. It was warm, the cliff side by the sea enticing with its cool spray. Both of them had worked long enough to have a break as they stretched across slightly damp stone. Killian licked his lips, looking almost pained. "They probably left before the next war hit. That's my guess. Although, tales of the Fae due run rampant out here. ‘The Fae court will ride their wild stallions across the plain, under the cover of thunder and lightning’. They ran their undying horses too loudly to go without notice otherwise."

Killian’s face fell, and he looked out pensively towards the estate, his features tensing as a sudden chill nipped at them. "Or teaching wee ones to be kind to strangers without asking for something in return… Fae folk have dominion over anyone who violate their hospitality unless given sincerely. Even then, they're bitter, wicked, twisted creatures with not an ounce of warmth in them. That falls back to 'Never find friend in Fae, or show them favor'."

"You sound like you believe they're real." Emma said quietly,

"Do you, Swan?" The question comes out strange, not quite teasing.

After a moment and a steadying breath, Emma let the truth eke out. "Maybe."

Killian didn't laugh, didn't say anything, really. Emma found that the best reply, her heart beginning to slow again when she confirmed that he's truly not mocking her by glancing up at his darkening eyes.

"Just who are you, Swan?" This question is worse, worst - it lodged deep as her walls snapped back up around her.

"Wouldn't you like to know." If he noticed the iciness in her glare, he didn't say.

Instead he called after her as Emma made her way back inside, a sudden cold rain pouring down. "Perhaps I would."

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Emma lets the days go by leisurely as Killian and her spend more time with each other. They eventually start sharing books, movies, excerpts from history (He loves the Today I learned section of reddit, learning things in leagues) and music. Her selections of rock and classic punk pop seem to genuinely bewitch him - on several occasions she's gone out to the garden to find him smeared with dirt, shirtless, gloves in his back jeans pocket shaking along with his - assets - while 'Welcome to the Jungle' blared from the sound system.

The beginning of want pooled in a well Emma thought had long gone dry, her blush a strawberry stain across her face and chest. Not that Killian knew, or if he did, hid it under his normal self-deprecating cheekiness by teasing her as much as normal. Emma had thoughts at night after a glass of wine that left her feeling like a breathless high schooler who found a note in their locker, except she wasn't a high school student. She hadn't been in far too long for this sort of crush.

Even in the mornings when she tried to beat him outside, he's there. Sometimes just sitting and talking to the plants or pruning, and it's like he's a fixture in her garden. A fixture that notices her arrival or sneaks behind her with a branch to tickle her ear, smiles at her, beams at her really, in a way that makes her heart sing. It's as if he's gently tending to her too, like he knows how hard it has been to lay down roots anywhere since Neal burned away everything she had hoped for a home.

Killian just grows on her, and she feels like the sun has warmed her enough to tentatively take a chance, to bloom.

And she likes it. It scares her more than anything. She likes that he wants to cultivate a friendship, that he is just happy to be near her for whatever reason, and that she can find comfort in his stability. He has set roots, deep into the earth that for so long she has resisted against letting her feet touch.

Maybe Emma Swan was finally tired of flying, and could try falling, just this once, knowing that a safe harbor might lend itself to her landing.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Emma read the faded ink on dark and crumbling paper, careful to slide it into a protective plastic sleeve. The attic had proven to be a massive undertaking, just like every other aspect of Carterhaugh. She originally planned to do just documents by herself, but Killian had found her and demanded to help, proving to be just as stubborn as her. He also demanded that they wait on the furniture and strange chests in the dusty gloom, warning her that he was not risking her falling through the floor or down a ladder.

"I quite fancy you, when you aren't yelling at me." He smirked, and butterflies erupted in her chest. If only.

The Lord of Carterhaugh had found the Fae portal, and made his way through the shadows to the seat of a great golden throne. He'd changed, heard the whisper of a devil or some dark voice that crawled into his veins, his name the first to go. Rumplestiltskin.

And Rumplestiltskin knew things, things he shouldn't have, and couldn't have. Things to sweeten a deal already suspiciously too good to be true. His wife, the lady of the house, did not love him. He tried many times to use his new found shadows to gain her heart, but they had limits. He tried stranger and more powerful beings in the woods until they fled as far as they could. Nothing worked until he threatened to take their child into the dark without her. She begged him to compromise, and they would split time with their child between their worlds.

For a time, it was good. Rumplestiltskin twisted into something strange, The lady stayed near the same, and no one could tell which way their son might go.

She joined them when her son finally decided to rule beside his Father. It was short-lived, an argument breaking out between the three as they chose whether they would abandon their old home of Carterhaugh to a great war that had begun. The Lady and her son returned, not a day older than when they left, blessing the land so no Fae could cross - as long as a rightful owner held the key.

No one noticed their return, thinking of only the war that held the world in turmoil or that they were distant relatives. When the war ended, no one remembered they had been there far too long.

Especially a soldier trying to return home on foot, lost, hurt, and sick.

The paper was ornate, script flowery and bordered with roses like the ones in her gardens. Emma slid it into a sleeve like the rest. When Killian emerged from the attic with cobwebs in his dark hair, Emma carefully pulled the dust and spider webs away as he huffed in annoyance. Carrying boxes of dust covered books, photo albums, old documents, journals where the ink has bled into the pages making them unintelligible, ledgers and sketches.

Emma was quick to pull out as much as she could, not noticing Killian’s change in posture or how he frowned as he placed albums aside to ‘sort through later’.

Opening a dark leather bound album, she flipped through the pages, as Killian froze behind her, flinching with every turn of the page.

"Look at all the staff here. This place used to run 30 people deep, can you imagine? I'd go crazy trying to organize all that. I guess your family has been doing this for years though."

"My family?" Killian looked confused for a moment before shaking it off. "Oh, yes. We've uh, one of us has always been here." he smiled weakly, and Emma felt an odd twinge in her gut.

"This guy even looks a little like you!" Emma laughed, and Killian frowned deeply, looking over the photo.

"Yeah. He could practically be me." He said in a dry tone, chuckling darkly. Emma felt that sour stone turn in her stomach, and this time she knew there was something behind the offput smile he gave her, more firmly planted than genuine; it took the air completely out of the room. In a sharp and impossibly fast movement, he slammed the book shut with a look of pure frustration, as Emma made a startled noise.

"Killian, what -"

"I'm going to put some of these to the other room. They're later in the period and it will be easier to start at the beginning." Putting the book away, he carried off several to stack in a corner.

"Alright." She gave him a wary glance, but opened up another old book. Several families in Victorian era clothing played croquet on a small lawn, the surrounding forest held back by large stone walls. "Oh, look at those!" Emma exclaimed, fingers pressed to the page. A gargoyle of a vaguely human creature stood at the corners of each side. Killian sat again, leaning over to look, his presence so close. His shoulder fell slightly against hers. She moved slightly away, just enough to feel the warmth of his body but to where he had no weight against her.

"Fae folk," Killian whispered quietly, finger pointing.

"Well. You weren't kidding when you said people here thought less of them than you!" Emma laughed merrily, moving to another album, not noticing Killian’s fingers tracing the large iron spikes that topped the heavy stones. "I guess most people think they're hideous creatures, but I think -"

"There's many, many things in this world. Fae folk happen to be one that, at least here, are known to be dangerous. It's why in lore, you never make deals or supper with strangers on the road, or you count the teeth and fingers of someone who offers you hospitality. Nothing in life comes without a price, and these woods are proof of it. They should have never taken that wall down."

"I agree, it's aesthetically pleasing for sure -"

"Promise me something, love?"

"Uh." Emma looked at him, his jaw clenched as he stared at the photo. "Maybe, it depends -"

"Put that wall back up, please. I'll help whoever lays it brick by bloody brick, but put that wall back up."

"Um. Okay, I will."

"Promise me." His eyes were icy blue as they snapped to stare at her, cold and without any of their normal glimmer of snark. Emma nodded, and he looked back at the photo, tracing the lines of the rock again.

"I promise."

"Thank you, Emma." He sighed, relaxing slightly. Pushing herself against her hatred of touch Emma reached for him. She laid her hand in his, tracing her thumb over his knuckles, and the ghost of a smile returned.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

If there was any advantage of having Killian on the premises of Carterhaugh, it was the cooking. Emma was beyond convinced that the man is the next Gordon Ramsey, showing him videos of the chef's famous temper that made his ears go pink.

"He shouldn't talk to women like that." Killian mumbled, after a particularly bad roasting involving an 'idiot sandwich'.

Emma frowned. "It's something they know going in. They're being respected for their talent, not their gender, or being a woman. They take it just like these men, sometimes - well no, usually, actually - better."

"Women do reserve respect, and to be treated better than this. I don't like this garbage can television you like, Swan."

"Trash TV."

"Semantics."

"Fine, and I guess you would order your kitchen around respectfully?" Emma asked amused. Killian gave a firm nod, washing berries in the sink as Emma sat on the counter top. "Oh captain, my captain! What do you know about bossing around a crew?"

"I was a Captain, Swan. In the Navy. Ranked up after my brother. I'd never speak to my crew like this, and I never did." There was a flat sadness in his tone, and the water ran for a long minute into the sieve that lay in the sink with neither of them moving.

"I didn't - I -"

"I'm thinking pie for this. Have you ever made one?" Killian asked, normalcy returned shakily as he turned off the tap. He flicked water at her with his fingers and she yelped, laughing.

"No. We didn't make pie a whole lot in our foster home." Emma shuddered. "We didn't eat a lot in general, in quite a few of them, really. I guess Neal did get us a pie once when we went out to dinner if you could call it that. He liked artsy food. It was this crazy mushroom tart thing, with all these circular layers. I just wanted - "

"A poptart?" Killian smirked at her, already rolling out dough with small gestures of his wrist on the other side of the sink opposite her. Emma shook off a momentary feeling of hypnotic awe, his movement quick, well practiced and precise mastery, like he had done this forever.

"Actually, I remember wanting of all things, a bologna sandwich."

Killian made a retching noise. "Awful stuff, that. Came out in '57 and they're still using the same cans if it. That and gelatin becoming en vogue is beyond perplexing, and then there were aspics which are a devil's concoction if I've ever seen one. I know bad food Swan, I'm British and was in the navy. Trust me when I say you're better off."

"You like mackerel and pickled herring." Emma giggled.

He looked affronted, giving a faux dramatic gasp. "Well yes, but not gelled, I'm not a savage. I barely put more than 3 tablespoons of vinegar on my food. I'm a purist by my country's standards."

Wrinkling her nose she made a gagging noise, "Gross. Thanks for ruining that for me." He smirked at her unapologetically.

"Hey, before I forget," Emma held up a finger and hopped down off the counter top. Heading to the pantry area, she flicked on the light and pulled down a basket of several apples, bringing them to the counter. Killian continued working methodically, without looking up. "Think we have enough to make a pie out of these?"

She reached down to pull one out, the red skin reflecting her hand like a lacquered surface, but Killian grabbed her wrist roughly. There was a sudden edge to him that made his demeanor feel strange, darker even.

"Where did you get these?" He asked with a hiss. Her eyes widened, and she pulled away briskly.

"The bottom of the hill, where the forest path begins. I hadn't noticed before since we don't walk down that way a lot, but there's an apple tree there -"

"Do not - Never pick those. These apples," he gruffly made a noise between an exasperated sigh and a growl. "These are poisonous. It's leeched into the soil there. Something to do with that New Claire energy. Poison nastiness. Hives of biting, crawling, flying, pests that rot everything they touch. Chemicals."

"Nuclear? Insects? What -"

"Look, just - Never these. Never eat anything from down that hill. Unless it's grown up here, do not eat it."

With flour covered hands he grabbed the basket and stormed out side, throwing the whole thing down the hill, and heading to the back garden. Emma stood open mouthed for a minute, looking around confused. When Killian stormed down the hill from the back garden as a shadowy silhouette in the late afternoon sun with an axe, she slipped on shoes to run after him. By the time she was out the door she could here the swings of the axe in wood. The tree fell as she reached the crest, sliding slightly down the slope.

As soon as the tree hit the ground, the leaves changed to a duller color, and as she came to the even patch of ground, an apple rolled to touch her boot. It was decaying, the lacquered red surface giving way to black beetles and crawling centipedes that fled there safety. Killian panted slightly, before throwing the axe over his shoulder and stalking back toward Carterhaugh.

"What - It wasn't like that when I -"

"Soil is bad, like I said. Just - just don't come down here. It's not safe. There's things left over from the wars, and old wells, mine shafts - there's a reason why all this land is untouched. No one wants it."

"You mean like, fairy circles, those types of old wells?" Emma called after him as he froze, kicking a blackened apple down the hill but away from her path.

Killian tensed, rigid and darkly shadowed by the setting sun. For a moment Emma thought he might yell at her, his stature wound so tight to the point of snapping, and face furious. He took a breath, and let it melt off him, composing himself as Emma watched in confusion.

Mumbling a curse under his breath he walked towards her and in a quiet tone drawled out an emotionless phrase, "Yes. Like those."

They walked back to the kitchen, but Emma felt herself come loose from the strangeness of the black beetles, so much like little black teeth or shiny black tacks, centipedes crawling, circling each other -

Neal loves circles, it's always circles in his art and designs. When Emma first meets him, he is tagging circles on a building, spraying thick lines of black and white that he covers in red to make a ring of what looks like mushrooms. Tucked away, she was fascinated by his fluid movements with the can until he chuckled lowly, turning to stare directly at her with eyes that are brown but somehow glow with tawny humor.

"Well well well." His voice is a whisper, but Emma can hear it all around her, echoing through the concrete, crumbling brick, and metal of the alleyway. "A lost boy has found a lost girl."

It doesn't make sense that he is so wise and young at the same time, but he calls her an old soul, which Emma delights in, especially on his arm in the backroom of a party or club. She is mature for her age, he tells her, nuzzling his nose in her hair. When he waves her past people, he always knows people and they seem to want to please him, his voice is like caramel.

"She's with me. Ems is cool."

It's astounding to her. He has nothing but everything, taking what is and isn't offered with no consequences.

"It's magic, Ems. People will give whatever I ask, because they know better than to ever say no." Holding her tightly, he rubs her arms and her stiffness melts away on whispered words of how happy he is with her. How glad he is to have someone who understands, the only person who gets him, the only person that makes him want to live.

When he asks, Emma does not say no. He is as important to her as she is to him. It does not matter that they've been together a few months, she echoes, they feel as though they have been together for years. It doesn't matter that she does not know what he does to make so much money, to buy her the nicest things even though she does not ask, he holds her hand as they grocery shop.

It does not matter that he asks again and again, more aggressively each time, and when she says no she learns better than to ever deny him again.

They are in love, Neal her first and only love in a long line of loss, the only person who has her full trust after years of betrayal. They are in love, and he holds her heart. It was only once, then twice, then more - but he's doing it for her own good, just correcting her behavior. He always tells her after how sorry he is, and how much he loves her. That he never wants her to hurt again, no more excuses about clumsiness or stealing makeup to cover evidence that fades from purple to yellow. No more late night visits to his doctor, the one across town who won't ask questions about her broken wrist or swollen jaw.

He cares about her enough to make her better. To make her listen and love him the way he needs to be loved; the consequences be damned, because those moments of rage are so fleetingly brief, that it does not matter.

It does matter a little when his time is spent on more trips alone, on business deals that she cannot accompany him to. It does matter when she finds dark plum lipstick on his collar, and it does matter when he storms out when she questions his fidelity.

It does matter when he returns, a silver circle lying in a plush casing, the proposal tainted by his ultimatum :

"Marry me, Ems. Marry me, or lose everything." He asks, and Emma does not say no, there's no way out of this, he's encircled her -

FWOOOM.

Her thoughts are broken by the sound of - something. It's a noise Emma has never heard, followed by Killian’s yelp of panic. He's thrown himself back on the floor away from the old oven when she skids to a stop on her socks to fall into him, his face soot covered and hair slightly charred on the edges.

"Are you alright?" Emma chokes out, but he hits her with a look of absolute frustration that goes so well with the black covering his face and the ember still slightly orange on his eyebrow she brushes away even as it burns her, and it takes seconds for her to dissolve into peals of laughter that make him look even more put out. "Oh, Killian -"

"Don't even start, Swan."

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Killian became a close confidante, the only person Emma had known that she could spend time with just in their presence, enjoying every moment. His presence soothed unlike so many that grated on her, and their routines twisted together until they were inseparable for vast portions of the day.

As it became nicer, they walked the property together and he showed her every plant, bird, animal and bug his work helped cultivate, as if he was completely responsible for the life that flooded where the forest did not touch. Emma could believe he was without trying, especially when fireflies danced around them and lit ginger glints in his hair or cast green and grey specks in his irises.

They sat by the now working fountains listening to mourning doves, or out on the gazebo that looked down the hill towards the wood, and he listened or hummed quietly while they read. There was a sense of calm that came with him that made her feel enveloped in safety. She could just be, and just being meant she could be vulnerable.

"My husband - it's complicated. I just, he was the love of my life and he let me down. No. He did more than that, he - I - I fell so far into myself I thought I would never escape and I can't let someone do that to me again. He was an awful person who was awfully good at pretending he wasn't."

"You don't have to say more, love."

"What about you? A good looking guy like you probably has -"

"You think I'm good looking Swan?"

Emma blushed, fiddling with the flower crown in her hands. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

"I do?" He asked, more amused. "I suppose a dashing rapscallion like m'self -"

Emma groaned, and they both laughed. She smiled at the crown, twisting away a stray petal here and there. Killian broke the silence in a thoughtful voice.

"The love of my life let me down too, so we're quite the pair, you and I."

Emma caught his quick glance in her direction, and the way his face changed from a smile, to carefully polished facade. Walls to never show the world any vulnerability, unsaid things piled up so high on the ramparts, and armor to protect from being hurt again.

"Milah. She was beautiful, smart, so zealous about life and the beauty of everything. She loved flowers, and I was good with them. She said that I was magic with them." Killian sounded wistful, and began to scrub at the back of his neck, talking rapidly, as if he was nervous.

"She was married but so unhappy, her husband had left her to care for their home while he… while he cared for his business elsewhere. It put their son in a difficult position due to it. He was expected to be two places at once, being educated in both worlds. It left Milah alone a lot of the time, and I welcomed her company. We fell in love against better judgment, she was a woman that wanted for nothing and took what she liked - I was something she liked. I don't know if I ever had a choice, really. At first it was wonderful, and everything was perfect. I feared her husband finding out, as he was very powerful in the, er, business world. Surprisingly, I discovered he didn't care. He called me her pet. I hated that, but I wanted her to be happy." He paused, shuddering, and looked over his shoulder. A harsh wind blew from up the forest, and although it had been a warm day, it smelled cloyingly of wet earth.

"She convinced me to run away with her, to join her husband and son in their business. Life had gotten harder and there were other forces at work outside of us, our country involved in a war. She was afraid. I followed her, because I was so in love, I'd follow her anywhere. It was subtle, her mannerisms changed and became more sharp, and we - well, our love changed drastically. She began to enjoy hurting me, and I at first thought that I enjoyed it, just trying to please, but she became worse as if she was trying to break me, bringing others in to torture me. Mind games and intrigues amongst…" His cheeks pinked. "Other things."

"You don't have to tell me this. If you don't want to, if you're not - you don't owe me -" Emma looked away, and he laughed ruefully. She looked back and he was shaking his head with his jaw set.

"I know I don't owe - you're the first person I've talked to about any of this." He sighed, and she picked at her fingernails. "If you don't want to -"

"No. It's okay. I…" Emma bit her lip. "Go on."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Her husband and a long line of others degraded me, tormented me, pulled me apart without care and made me wish I had never been born. Where in the beginning Milah at least provided a soothing touch after, she began to leave me alone to watch me suffer, or ignore my pleas to stop. I have never felt so helpless."

"Killian, I -"

"So I know the feeling of shame, I understand not wanting to be touched, I have boundaries from my escape and extricating from Milah's grip. Leaving her was like…" he laughed again, sad and without any humor. "Banishment. I was left absolutely alone, her son had been my close friend, and I had others that I was close with in their business."

Standing, he brushed off his pant legs and looked out at the sky. Emma stood slowly, chewing her lip to the point of pain before making her decision.

Carefully, Emma tucked her hand into his, his fingers intertwining with her own as they walked in silence. They made occasional light conversation, laughing together, and an easy feeling of belonging came over her so strongly. His thumb traced her own, while his smile traced a path through every barrier and straight to her heart.

Returning to the house Killian made a chicken and rice dish that was phenomenal as usual, and over wine Emma teased him about his absolute refusal to consider adding a chicken coop to the property.

"They're nasty birds, Swan."

"They eat pests, and they would have so much room. I think it would be nice."

"Just because you and they are kin, doesn't mean I want to care for them, Swan."

"Are you… Ch- Ch- Chicken?" Emma smiled at him with uninhibited glee.

"You are absolutely ridiculous."

"You love me for it." Emma stabbed a bite and grinned as she chewed, oblivious to the look of longing that came over him.

"That I do."

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

When Emma opened the door for vulnerability in her life, the breeze that came through pushed every idea of a wall out of the relationship she and Killian had built, their likes and dislikes melding and the strangeness of their lives being alike turning into long stories over spiked cocoa in half finished rooms.

Killian was an orphan, the same caged look in his eye when asked about family. His brother was gone, but both their siblings had fought constantly for a better life for the younger.

Where Emma didn't know her parents, Killian remembered his mother and his drunken father, and they commiserated on which was worse. In the end, it came down to loss and abandonment laying a heavy hand on both of their existences in a way that made Emma see Killian in a different light all together. There was a softness that met the same jagged edge of wildness, the raw and crooked pieces that came together in a clash just like hers. There were scars, mental and physical, that she recognized easily now, and that changed the way they interacted.

Emma had always felt like she was walking the thinnest invisible line, unsure what was above or below or ahead, but in Killian’s presence she felt someone's hand in her own. Emma hoped he felt the same balance, and the same surety she did.

Fear was there too, and it came in the night when she examined the synchronicity that she wanted to cling to like a preserver.

If Neal hadn't ruined her, if she wasn't just slightly more broken and absolutely undesirable, Killian would be everything Neal wasn't.

Her wedding is beautiful, but strange in its own right, a ceremony that is a blur of unfamiliar faces, drinking, food, and meeting who Neal demands her to meet. It feels strange, as if there is something wrong with everything, a piece that is missing among the wreckage, but she cannot grasp it.

Neal is forceful when he introduces a few guests, but Emma is the sun, shining on this day and not noticing the sideways looks people shared. The women are striking, Emma unsure of how they know Neal, and unable to ask for fear of her tangled tongue.

There's so much spinning and dancing, his voice low and sweet, warming her and tracing her nerves with fuzziness. Her friends are there too, and they are happy, so happy as they drink and dance and feast. David is there only briefly, the only one ever disgusted by Neal, but her old roommate from college, Ruby, makes it. They share a silly dance that makes Ruby's bracelets jingle while Neal talks to his friends, so many friends she has never seen. There's so much money in this place, so much she did not plan or choose, ostentatious in your face gaudy things that Neal has chosen for her. Neal will choose for her, because he knows best, and she is in his ring, twirling in a gown that glitters with crystals.

Neal dances with Ruby, and she is charmed immediately. There are other people he dances with that Emma invited, the cake shop owner down the street Tiana, a woman from an sculpting course, Ariel, and their upstairs neighbor, Tamara. Each seem to join her new husband and come away with a blushing grin, the wine strong.

They go to bed and it's not as much as making love, but it isn't as little as just fucking or consummation - there's a frenzied edge that makes her toes curl but scares her. When she wakes up, her body is bruised and bite marks line her skin, dark blossoms that feel tender. He's gone, left a note for her on their honeymoon that something has come up back home. The tears come easily, but the call to the concierge is rough. Neal had left her money to do whatever it is someone does alone on their honeymoon in the Caribbean, and she laughs as the clerk judges her while handing her the bag.

The first two days of Plan B she can't drink, and it takes everything to follow through with that, watching Back to the Future 1 - 4 in the pool while gorging on onion rings. The third day is spent drunk and crying over a grilled cheese, then more onion rings.

Getting home, she finds Neal in their living room, and he surveys her calmly like one might do an over tired child. It hurts her, the coldness in his eyes. He sighs tracing a circle around the rim of a whisky tumbler.

"You've gained weight."

Emma laughs angrily and unbelieving, but it's cut short as the circles on his glass continue faster and faster around, until she fades into a smile, gently saying,

"Sorry, Neal, I'll do better."

He smiles, putting down the glass to his side.

"Good girl. Now come here, I missed you."

Emma walks over and straddles him - surprised how wrong it feels but how right it feels to please him. She does want to make him happy, doesn't she? To repay his good will and good fortune? Or is she an ungrateful girl that can still be left if she displeases, abandonment or adoration the choice is hers - which is it, which is it, which is it - and their kisses turn into something more as he turns out the light in their bedroom.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Malcolm of Malcolm's restoration services was the first person Emma had found anywhere remotely close that was able to properly authenticate the rare safe she found hidden in one of the walls. In the old Master's study, Emma had found a loose panel, and had assumed it to be another thing to fix. Finding the safe, and then Googling the safe to see if could be broken into easily led Emma to discover that not only could it not - it might spray some sort of gas all over.

She called the man and he answered first ring, and she booked him to drive the hour to Carterhaugh. He was entirely unpleasant on the phone, but Emma thought that might be due to the surprise drive to the middle of nowhere.

He was wholly, entirely, and awfully beyond unpleasant in person.

Malcolm had shown up reeking of alcohol, his boots caked in mud that he'd tracked over the newly restored entryway, and had only been eager to get the safe out of the wall - and into his truck.

"Ya'dunno what's innit, so I'll charge ye a bit t'take it off yer hands. Be needing special tools anyway, which I only have at m'shop. Most safes are empty, but you'll know yet home is safe from t'gas at least."

"I'm sorry Mr. Malcolm, but no. I wish you didn't have to come all the way out here but I'll pay you -"

"Fine, fine, I'll open it here, I'll just…" He pulled a hammer out of his pocket, and Emma stopped him again.

"I would just really prefer if you don't? I read about these and I really don't want to risk it, when you say you need specific tools from your shop. If it's most likely empty I'll leave it for another day, and drive out there with you."

Malcolm smiled, greasily, lowering the hammer to his side. He nodded and turned to have Emma follow him towards the entry hall.

"Sounds good miss. It must be tough out here all alone by yourself."

Emma answered before she could think better of it. "Oh no, I'm used to being on my own really, and -"

The crack of the hammer missed her by such a small margin, she felt the breeze hit her forehead. It stuck in the wall as she threw herself back instinctively and stupidly, scrambling as Malcolm pulled the hammer free and swung again.

"Killian! Killian, fuck! Help!" She screamed down the hall towards the solarium, narrowly avoiding getting hit again as Malcolm swung wildly.

"You bitch, I thought you were alone up here!" The lunatic hissed, and Emma heard the sound of running steps as Killian yelled after her.

"Emma, if you've fallen again, I swear -" Killian took a look at Malcolm with his hammer raised above her, and became instantly enraged, running full speed at Malcolm with a roar of anger. The older man threw the hammer at him hitting Killian in the chest, scrambling to throw an entry table and chaise in Killian’s path as they ran for the door.

Emma heard the squealing of tires and shouts, unable to move from her sprawled defensive position on the floor. Killian came back in like a blur, and before Emma could find the air to ask him to call the police or if he was alright, he had wrapped his arms around her holding her head as she burst into tears.

"You're alright. Emma, I've got you. You're alright, love. What - Who was that? Did he hurt you? I would have been faster, I thought - I'm such an idiot I thought, and you could have been - Emma, please tell me you're alright because if he hurt you, I swear I will hunt the bastard down and stuff him." Emma wrapped her arms around him, tightly gripping him and crying inconsolably. Her shoulders shook, and he only whispered soothingly, only pulling away to lock the doors.

Emma called the police, recounting what happened to Killian and the department as they asked questions, Killian pacing by the time they thanked her for her statement.

"We'll keep an eye out for him Miss Swan, and if he should turn up again, give us a ring."

"What do you mean give us a ring, she could have bloody well died! Send someone after him -"

"Miss Swan, who is this?" The officer asked.

"Oh, he's - he's my roommate and helps with restoration. Jones."

The officer made a loud sigh. "Seainns? There's another of you?"

"No, Jones. Only the one." Killian gritted out.

"Alright Mr. Jones, well, we can't just arrest someone, as although they did damage, we don't know where they may be, and we are a small town with limited resources. We'll have someone in a car sit at the bottom of the drive until morning."

"Thanks." Emma mumbled. The sound of a click was followed by Killian’s shouts.

"Bloody useless! We'd have caught him on foot, and dragged him through town by his arms -"

"Hey, Killian?" Emma whispered, and he stopped pacing to look at her. "Will you stay with me tonight? Please?"

His eyes widened, and he moved toward her, although she shrunk back. "Oh, Emma -"

"I just don't want to be alone tonight." She mumbled, voice cracking. Unable to look at him, she felt him gather her hands, squeezing gently. When she yanked away he froze, then moved slightly away from her. Emma regretted it instantly.

"Of course, love. Your room?"

Emma nodded. She let him lead her up the stairs, stopping by his room to grab a few things, before he sat on the edge of her bed. He laid his pillow on the floor, but she grabbed his arm as he set about laying blankets there as well.

"No. If you don't want to I understand, but… Please, I want you close, I don't want to wake up and think I'm alone."

"Are you sure, Swan?" He asked, and she nodded.

Crawling into bed with her as she snuggled into him and let herself cry, he held her tightly.

"I promise Emma, I won't let anyone hurt you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you today -"

"You were." Emma whispered. "You are."

"I won't let harm befall you, in any way I can prevent. I promise."

He held her close, alert for any sounds as she fell asleep.

For the first time in years, she woke with no recollect of nightmares, fully rested, warm and safe. Tracing the scar on his cheek as he slept, the morning light hit his eyelashes and hair revealing auburn glints. They fluttered, and his eyes crinkled at their edges, blue and glints of gold.

"You stayed."

"I told you I wouldn't leave, love. You're safe."

Emma felt words pour out of her, his quiet listening while resting his hands gently in platonic embrace cathartic as she told him everything. Abandonment after abandonment, unending and unrelenting betrayals of trust that she explained as he comforted in the ways he could.

"I know you think that you have to be strong, and I know you think that you can't trust or lean on others. I will do everything that I can to prove myself to you, to prove that you deserve more."

"Why?" Emma asked, more plea than question.

Killian hesitated. Finally he swallowed hard. "It's what friends do."

Emma laughed softly, letting out a hum of contentment when she fell asleep again.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Mary Margaret and David visit once Emma has restored a suite she found suitable for them, her standards on the first place she would invite her adoptive brother ridiculously high. He had been absolutely hell bent on seeing the place, but had finally had enough when Emma had mentioned Killian more times than what was most likely normal for a staff member of the manor.

"I have tickets booked for Christmas. We're coming." He announced on their Skype call. Emma blanched, choking on her wine.

"Christmas?" she squeaked. "But that would mean presents and food, and we -"

Mary Margaret spoke calmly from just off camera. "We will get groceries in London for the week we're there, and ship the gifts straight to your house wrapped. Hell, I'll even buy Christmas crackers. All you need to do is open the doors, put up some semblance of a tree, and have somewhere we can sleep."

"But -"

"Emma. Mary lived with me and my ogre frat brothers on campus for two years. As long as there are no crusted socks on door handles, your place will be as immaculate as the Vatican. We're coming."

Emma tried to argue but couldn't get past either of them, finally conceding when Mary Margaret pointed out that Emma kept saying we when it came to her arguments.

"Did you meet someone? Is there a we now? Tell the gardener to bring a date, I follow him on that GreenThumb app - I want to meet him!"

In her Skype account's chat box, Emma saw her face go red. "No," she snapped, unsure why the thought irritated her. The interrogation probably, that sneaky, bird whispering, cookie pusher of a sister and law. "No, no one for me, but I'm sure Killian will be around. He told me he purchased an ugly sweater for himself."

Emma took a swig of wine while her brother made an irritated noise.

"He's telling you what he's wearing? Emma, is he gay?" Emma flooded her lungs in cabernet, coughing and spraying her laptop screen. "If he is, we know a nice man and can set them up - That Jefferson fellow, the artist at our old complex."

David laughed, both of them not paying attention to Emma hacking and scrubbing at her laptop with her robe. "Oh yeah! The artist that kept getting high and painting rabbits. He had that exhibit he invited us to, what was it called - with all the penises that were 'mushrooms'?"

"'Wünder.' it was called I think." Mary Margaret smacked him on the shoulder from off screen. "I remember because you said it should not have been called that in allusion to Wonderland when it attracted that blonde doctor, and more than a few bears."

"That's right!" David snapped his fingers, smirking at Emma from through the screen.

Now half choking and laughing, Emma gave a hoarse, "Fuck you both."

David smiled sweetly, and replied, "See you at Christmas, sis."

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Mistake number one is completely Killian’s fault.

They have to get a tree, and not just any tree, a fifteen foot goddamn tree that goes in a specific place in the den, where it will lord over them like the undeserving peasants they are. Or, that's what Emma feels about the whole thing. Killian has precariously climbed up one of the big ladders with a long measuring tape to painstakingly make sure the dimensions of the tree are that of some sort of branch trunk ratio, muttering about 'gardener stuff' she wouldn't understand.

"We literally could just get a fake tree. I have one, I brought it, it's 5 feet and prelit -"

"Your brother is coming here, and you have never done Christmas in a real home. I want your first Christmas here to be…" Killian made a gesture and finally scratched behind his ear, and blushed. "I want you to feel at home."

"Oh." Emma blinked. "Okay…? But the thing is, Killian, I don't need a giant ass needle machine to make this place feel at home, my Christmas activities are usually Chinese food and whatever booze is on discount at the local drug store."

"Why are there stores for just drugs in America? You bloody people -"

"Do not change the subject, using my patriotism is not going to work on me this time."

"Fine. Fine! I'll get the tree up and all you need to get are the decorations."

"Fine. I ordered them with all the gifts, they'll arrive in three days. Please get the tree by then, and no shame if it's not that big, seriously. David and Two Ems will be here the day before."

Climbing down the ladder, he shut the measuring tape with a nod. "Then that's the day it will be here. That way we can all decorate it. I'll pull out my gifts when you lot put yours out."

Emma widened her eyes. "Oh, you didn't have to - I didn't know if you wanted to do that with us -"

Killian looked slightly defeated, and then embarrassed. "Oh. If I'm imposing… If no one got me -"

"I mean I did, but -"

His smile relit, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "That's all that matters. I'll get the tree, Swan."

David and Mary Margaret arrived, and the first hour was spent with Two Ems giggling and clapping her hands at the literal fairy tale property she's on, as David's jaw stays open.

"So, once I knew that you were coming up, I designed your suite. It's called the songbird suite, and I modeled it after both of you." Emma smiled shyly. Mary Margaret tackled her with a hug, and Emma laughed delightedly.

David approached the room and it's stained glass door and carved wood door, it's facade made to look like a tree dripping leaves that went from green to yellow and then red and brown. Turning the French handle that was made to look like a copper branch, they stepped inside. The room was wall to wall a mural of a verdant forest, the plaster inlay textured to give the illusion of dimension. A hearth of rustic wood burned merrily near the bathroom archway where a river stone bath and shower peeked out. Through the bathroom and past a rock cut double vanity lay a door out into a small garden courtyard, while past the tub a closet sprawled out with a booth for make up.

"Why is it the songbird room?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma simply pointed up.

On the ceiling Killian has painted all the song birds that lived in their gardens, each one in detail and vivid coloring. He had draped plants in old bird cages they had found in the attic, growing the long vines to hang from the ceiling with flickering tea lights.

David walked to Emma, and smiled happily. "Can I hug you, Emma?" He asked quietly. She gave a simple nod, and he delicately embraced her, whispering in her ear so that Mary Margaret couldn't hear.

"You totally got me laid tonight, so thanks for that."

Emma burst out laughing, pushing him away while yelling how gross that was, and he started laughing too. Mary Margaret looked confused but hugged Emma again as she tried to breathe.

"I'm glad you like it Two Ems."

"It's perfect Em singular."

Just after that moment, Killian called from the hall.

"Can I draw your attention to the Den, Family Swan." Mary Margaret quirked an eyebrow, but Emma shrugged pushing past to the hallway and into the den. Killian stood next to a massive tree, its branches held by thick red twine. He held a pair of scissors in his hands. Emma simply held her mouth open in shock along with Mary Margaret, the enormity of the massive pine overwhelming. She didn't notice David's pointed glare at Killian. "Madame Swan, M'lady Mary Margaret, and… Er. Dave."

David cracked his knuckles as his hand balled into a fist, with a grunt. Emma was too busy trying to figure out the scale of the tree to acknowledge him.

"I give you, our Christmas tree." Killian gave a bow, and with a quick flourish, cut the twine. The tree sprung open, boughs decorated in soft lights, glitter, some manner of tinsel, and long strings of ribbons, popcorn and cranberries. "All that's left is the star, and ornaments."

"Killian, wow, I -" Emma covered her mouth, trying not to let tears prick her eyes. She walked half dazed, not taking her eyes off the tree as she came to his side. "It's more than I -"

"So you like it?" He asked quietly.

"I love it, you've - I don't even know -"

He looked concerned, and gently swiped at her eyes. "Love don't cry, it's alright," Hugging her, she laughed.

"It's just so pretty, I never imagined having anything like this. Never in my life, I just… Thank you. Thank you so much, thank you."

Killian laughed, giving her a spin as she let out a joyful shriek.

Emma didn't notice David's tension, or the excited tug Mary Margaret gave on his sleeve that went unnoticed as he glared.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The second mistake comes in the form of Dinner the next day. David had excused himself after decorating the tree, citing exhaustion. Mary Margaret had gone with him and they retired early. Their gifts had been delivered the next day, beautifully propped against the decorated tree, while a team of couriers helped unload the ridiculous amount of food Mary Margaret had ordered.

"So, I am making the pies and cookies, the casserole, and the mashed potatoes. I figure that you," Mary Margaret pointed a bright red spatula at Killian who grinned in delight, "Can do the bird, vegetables, and that rice dish Emma raves about over Skype -"

"I do not rave about it over Skype -" Emma moaned, covering her face. Her stomach gurgled loudly, Mary Margaret and Killian laughing while David glowered.

"And David will do the ham, the lamb, and the holy roast." Mary Margaret laughed, Killian joining in. Emma gave David a bright smile that he did not return, not noticing, animatedly talking to Killian while he cut vegetables, popping cherry tomatoes in her mouth as he pretended to be annoyed. David grunted, pulling out the large roast pans.

Mary Margaret elbowed David, jerking her head at Emma, and David cleared his throat.

"Emma, would you like to help Mary Margaret?" David asked in a strained voice. "I'm sure she will let you add more cinnamon than normal people like in their shortbread."

Rolling her eyes, Emma stuck out her tongue at David, throwing a cranberry at him. "You're lucky I never miss the chance to merge from Em singular into," In unison robot voices, Mary Margaret and her intoned, "Triple M, Femme from Hell."

The broke into giggles before beginning to work. Opening a bottle of champagne and dumping it into a pitcher with cranberry juice, cinnamon sticks and orange slices, Emma poured herself and Mary Margaret a mug.

"My contribution, dear Sister in law." Emma smiled. Mary Margaret clinker her mug against Emma's, glancing over to where the men were working. They were back to back in silence, each stabbing at different ingredients. Mary Margaret gave a quiet sigh. Emma looked between the men and Mary Margaret with a confused look. "What?"

"My husband - your brother - is being a butthead." Mary Margaret whispered. Emma laughed, before realizing that she was serious.

"Wait, what? Who even says butthead anymore, are you eight? What are you even -"

"He's jealous. He's jealous that," She pointed at Killian with a measuring cup as she filled it with flour. "He couldn't do this for you. I mean, I know that he has to know this is because of Nil who he absolutely despised, but now there's another person who you've let in your life that is here because of Neal, and who is showing him up, that you've let in -"

"Fuck, I didn't even, I didn't think -" Emma hissed, and threw back her drink. Hissing in a quiet whisper, she gripped the counter. "Shit shit shit shit. But - but Killian is different, he's not like Neal at all and is just a friend. He's - there's nothing.".

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow, smirking, before her face fell.

"Wait. Emma, you're serious? You and him aren't -" Emma shook her head, and Mary Margaret's eyes went wide. "But, but, he's - Oh, Emma."

Emma looked at her stupidly, blinking as Mary Margaret grabbed her hand and patted, looking over at Killian. He had moved around to the oven, jockeying for space and showing David how to work the various modes as her brother's hands balled further into fists.

When he caught their gazes, Killian gave a wave her way, smiling at her.

Emma turned back, and Mary Margaret was gulping down her own glass of the champagne mixture, putting up a finger to stop Emma from speaking as she poured another and downed it just as quickly.

"Wha?" Emma managed, but Mary Margaret just shook her head, muttering.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The dinner was fantastic, even if Mary Margaret got exceedingly drunk and laughed entirely too hard at the dirty jokes in her Christmas cracker, but David loosened up as the night went on and they all wore their silly hats, food being passed and eaten. They were all well drunk as the lamb and roast's smell wafted from the kitchen for the next day, and cookies were happily munched on by the fire.

They played a silly almost game of spades at a low coffee table in the den, trading white elephant gifts of ridiculous pajamas and blanket sets Mary Margaret had picked out, Emma receiving a mustache print blanket and flaming hot cheetos mixed with mistletoe pajamas. Mary Margaret fared much better, a Scooby-Doo onesie with Santa hat, rainbow blanket with poop emojis, and matching poop Emoji pillow. David received a silky mumu in a pepto pink with glittery loafers and a blanket with the repeated words 'Diva' and 'Princess' in cursive on it, but Killian fared worst of all.

"You've bested me, Mary Margaret. I shan't forgive you for this." He raised a fist in fake anger, plinking in his ears as he pulled out the offending garment. They all cackled, Mary Margaret actually falling over in peals of laughter as he glared at her in good humor and sang out mockingly, "Revenge, revenge, revenge will be mine."

A silky black robe with lace trim and black velour booty shorts were held in his hands, the red and white candy cane lettering across the back reading, 'Naughty List'. The blanket print was a black and red velour with Santa wearing devil horns.

David could not stop laughing as they all took a photo together, Killian bright red in embarrassment and drink, the both of them staying late up into the night talking. They all changed or got comfortable, Triple M falling asleep cuddled together in a drunk doze.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Christmas morning marked the third and final mistake, a group of hung over almost thirty somethings waking up to a cold hearth and backs that protested not sleeping on a mattress. Killian was up first as usual, fetching wood and dropping it with a yawn in the grate, stoking the embers. Mary Margaret and David woke up later as Emma dozed in and out, listening to their conversation.

"If you give him any trouble -"

"- How can she not know, I mean -"

"I mean it David, I will give you a new year's resolution of a dry spell if you -"

"That is emotional manipulation, Snow, and I'm only worried for my sister -"

"Don't 'Snow' me, this is the happiest I've seen her in so long, and you could be happy with her, last night you told me he was a good guy -"

"Last night I was drunk! Come on, Snow I -"

"David, if you don't act charming I'll… After we open gifts, go help him in the garden. Please."

Her brother gave a dramatic sigh, grunting out an okay. Falling back asleep until she smelled coffee, Emma led them in devouring ham with toast. They sat around the tree opening gifts, as they felt life returning in the form of caffeine.

They all received socks, some books, and various other gifts tailored to them. Mary Margaret got several kits for her class, a voucher for archery lessons, and several bird feeders that would be delivered to their home. David got free dog training courses for their puppy, wireless headphones, and a new pair of boots he had been eyeing. Emma was surprised to receive a wallpaper book based on period design, several dresses, a wine club subscription, and a beautiful shadowbox frame full of photos of hee adoptive mother. David had squeezed her hand at that, both of them sharing a look.

Emma was beyond grateful that Killian was given gifts by Mary Margaret, who'd given him a National Geographic subscription, Play store card, and to his delight, purchased an actual star for him.

"It's registered, you just go online and name it. They will give you the coordinates, which you can track on the phone app, or a telescope." Mary Margaret explained.

"Which brings me to my gifts to you." Emma smiled. She handed him a small envelope, and he opened it cautiously.

Inside was a voucher for a flower of the month and seed of the month club respectively, but what caught his eye was a scrawled message inside.

'In the Solarium.'

"Swan, I thought about what to get you, and -"

"Aren't you going to look in the Solarium?"

"Well, yes, but -"

"No, you've got to go look! I want to see your face. You probably won't shut up for weeks about it." Emma grinned, standing.

Killian sighed, and they all moved towards the bright sunshine of the glass enclosure. He rounded the bend, and Emma thought his gasp of excitement was worth its weight in gold. The telescope there was gold, designed like an old sextant but completely up to date with the newest technology. Emma watched him trace a finger before looking back at her and trying to find words.

"I know, I know. Your gift won't compare." She groused, and he looked overcome.

"Emma, this is too much -"

"No. It's not." She stated firmly. He shook his head, laughing in disbelief.

Pulling out a velvet box, he opened it and the sun caught green gems. "I guess I don't have to feel bad about this then. I had them restored after that awful man attacked you. They were in the safe, they're emeralds, a set of combs, earbobs, and necklace set in silver."

He handed the box to her, and Emma could not find words, even} rest assured I'd never let harm befall her." Clapping a hand against David's back, he gave a grim look of resolve. "Never."

David sputtered briefly, before breaking into a grin, and clapping Killian on the back as well, Mary Margaret smiling as she watched Emma swipe away tears from her eyes. Emma closed the box, coming back to the moment, no one noticing her quick sleight of hand as she threw the box under a shelf.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Mary Margaret and David left with Killian feeling like an old friend, their bags heavy and concerned heavily with how they would ever get through customs with the amount of food they had.

Killian had given them a historic tour of the property, fascinating Mary Margaret, who even forgave his refusal to take her through the woods.

"They're just lovely, and so weird too. They should not have leaves, and yes there are some fir and pine in there, but it's just so dense. It doesn't make sense, the branches practically knit together."

Killian just smiled blandly, and shrugged. "That land is strange."

David and Killian were acting as if they were best friends, and Emma was delighted, even beyond her distress over Killian’s gift. When she was sure they were all occupied, Emma had dug earth out of one of the many pots in the solarium garden. Pouring the jewels into the hole, she paused, feeling a pang of regret. Bracing herself, she covered the hole in dirt, knowing that she could not survive with the memory of Neal so close.

Returning to them, they played more games, and Emma showed them plans for the next rooms, they watched a few movies, and overall enjoyed each other's company.

Seeing them off, Emma hugged her brother tightly without him having to ask if it was alrght, his surprise turning into a tight embrace of joy.

Killian and her waved goodbye from the hall, watching the taxi pull away from Carterhaugh, Emma leaning into him when they were out of sight.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

After the house quieted from the holidays, Emma began having night terrors regularly. As this continued into the beginning of Spring, Killian found her several times drooling onto a pile of receipts or restoration samples, wallpaper swatches wet and blurred on the edges. Emma had guiltily proposed that she sleep in the garden while he worked, but he had been horrified by that suggestion.

To combat this and his lack of movie knowledge, Emma came up with what she considered an ingenious solution - using leftover furniture, pillows, and an assortment of old linens, she set up fort pillow-haugh with absolute precision. Falling asleep to Indiana Jones ('Are you sure there's no relation between you two?' she had asked to receive a cheeky grin back) while sated on popcorn and feeling comforted by Killian’s nearby presence was the easiest way to rest. So what if her back protested or in the middle of a thunderstorm she tucked into him so tightly she was afraid he might have bruised - they're friends.

They're friends alone in the middle of nowhere, and he holds her like he can't imagine anyone who wouldn't worship the ground she walked on.

They're friends and he spoons against the back of her softly, without any degree of disrespect or disregard, everything up to her.

They're friends as she is deeply asleep, but without dreams hears his voice like a bell over still water, feeling his nose bury into the hair at the nape of her neck and his lips on her shoulder.

"I love you, Emma. One day, I'll tell you how much with no trickery, and I will win your heart."

Even if it's only pretty words in dreams as he held her, Emma smiled and relaxed further into his touch. It's a dream she wants nothing more than to keep having as her second anniversary of living in Carterhaugh rolls around.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The fight is really her fault, but Emma gives stubborn a run for its money on her best days.

The upstairs bath in the all blue guest room had been leaking and making the hall reek of mildew. Fearing that she might have to replace tile that was quite literally irreplaceable, Emma went about getting a plumber, securing an appointment with one but not for two weeks.

So she had taken a wrench to the exposed faucets, carefully moving tiles from the mosaic floor of some red haired mermaid, following YouTube videos on how to turn the water off in the old pipes with a shut off valve. When her wrench slipped on the rusty piping and she cut herself, her chorus of curse words echoed down the halls, but she hadn't expected Killian’s breathless arrival or worried eyes.

"Emma, what did you - Are you alright?" He stared at the red dripping from her hand and her disheveled state.

Emma nodded, trying to push past, but he held fast. "I just - it's just a cut. I'm alright." The worry in his gaze made her feel under spotlight. It had been almost a year of work, but no one in that time span had ever cared about her, except Mary Margaret. Not that she counted; the woman loved everyone.

Killian only shook his head. Pulling a black handkerchief from his pocket, he wrapped it delicately around the cut, bending low to make sure the knot he made was tight. "I thought you said you were calling a plumber?" he asked quietly, the worry now lacing his voice.

"I did, I just need to turn off this valve and it's stuck -" Emma gestured, and Killian picked up the wrench, bending to look. Before she could protest, he turned the wrench - in the wrong direction. There was a hiss, then a pop, and suddenly there was water shooting at both of them, ice cold, coming from different directions as she wiped at her face and Killian stared up at her in shocked surprise. She stumbled and he caught her, stumbling as well and trying to gain purchase back on the valve, while Emma screamed at him to shut it off, just shut it off -

They slipped together, and his body was on top of hers, chest heavy and dripping but blocking the jets of water as he turned the valve to stop the torrent at last. When he looked down at her prone and underneath him, he was soaking wet, hair plastered to his forehead and neck, beads getting stuck in his raised eyebrows.

Emma began to laugh uncontrollably, the urge bubbling up without warning as Killian’s eyes widened and his pupils grew larger. He began to laugh too, his weight on her slight as he tried to hold himself above her while his chest was so close she could feel his heart thundering. His stare leveled at her lips, but when she pushed upwards, he pushed off of her to stand pink all the way across his ears and cheeks. Scratching his ear he mumbled an excuse to leave, but she was soaked and cold, the want heavy from the way everything clung to him like leather.

Pulling on the fabric of his shirt in two rough fistfuls, she kissed him. He reacted in a muffled grunt that slowly turned into a groan matching her own keen, his tongue and hers together moving in languid synchronization. It was only when they parted breathless, and he broke the moment with the roughest voice she had heard from him, that thought returned.

"That was…"

Emma practically threw herself away from him, her body aching for more of whatever that was -

"A one time thing." She heard herself say, too busy trying to flee, to get away from the man she had just desired and obviously desired her, that lived with her, that was her friend, that was her employee - and Oh God Emma what a royal mother of all screw ups.

Hiding away from him as she could hear her phone buzz, hear his footsteps, his quiet pleading from the other side of her door as she hid on the balcony. She could see him pacing in his room, calling out to her where she hid. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this or in any way.

He was relentless, and hurt, which she guessed was to be expected. When his knocking and pleading stopped it was a relief and an absolutely terrifying moment in its own right - the halls of Carterhaugh were silent but for the sound of her door opening. An empty bottle of wine laid a slight ways down the hall, the bottle's neck pointing towards Killian’s room.

He was gone. He had gone and she was alone again like she has been all her life - was before this. The royal fucking mother of screw ups and the granddaddy of absolute stupidity, pushing away the first good thing that has happened to her by kissing him. By letting him chip away at the ice around her soul, only to freeze him out because she - she, not him - kissed him.

She was a lunatic. She's an idiot lunatic. She's an idiot lunatic that just wants to go back to that moment and…

And kiss him again, and again, and feel his heart thump and hear that groan into her mouth, feel the way his hand found her hip and tongue slipped past her lips -

Fuck.

#Courtorderedcake #September 12th 2019 #2019 #CSSNS #CSSNS 2019 #Roses #Tam Lin #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan #cs au #CS FF #captain swan fic #Captain swan fan fiction

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crazybutcutecatlady · 5 years

Text

Hello! This is my first ff, so I hope you like it! It’s complete Jin fluff, maybe a bit of angst? If you squint really hard, you may see it. I did give it a title image, but the photograph itself is not mine. Also, any feedback would be welcome! Enjoy!

Jin x reader (Oneshot) Fluff 3K word count

The chill of September had just started to settle in, leaves had begun to alter their hues just a week or two ago, and new winds blew the blazing canopies from their lofty perches. You had just got off work three hours ago. You washed away the day’s stress and changed into full fall cozy attire. A soft, dense burnt orange sweater, brown leggings and thick, fluffy fox socks to top it off. Indulging in the clean autumn vibes, you make yourself a cup of your favorite tea, grab your favorite book, and the most fitting blanket. You’ve barely settled in when you hear an unfamiliar engine roar outside.

Typically, your neighborhood is very quiet, and most residents opt for public transportation rather than a vehicle of their own. Highly curious, you peek out of the window to peek at the machine. A G-Wagon was parked outside your door, its light pink paint being just as loud as the engine, highly contrasting the old, traditional Korean architecture that surrounds it. A corresponding pink hat came bobbing out the car and towards your door. Rolling your eyes, you strode over to the door, opening it just before your star-eyed lover could knock on the door. His pink sweater paw hung in the air as he looked at you in slight bewilderment.

“So, are you keeping things color-themed today?” You teased. He looked you up and down before cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m not alone, “he playfully retorted. You chortled before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, giving him a little peck on his soft lips before sinking back down on your heels. You pulled back confused though, there were so many strange elements to this sudden event.

“What brings you here, Jinnie? You didn’t call or anything. And what’s with-”

“Surprise!” He exclaimed, “We’re going on a date! Go grab warmer clothes and as many blankets as you can, ok?”

“Wait, wait, wait! What’s with the car? What happened to the Lamborghini?!?”

“The Lamborghini wouldn’t work for what I’ve got planned, so I bought this.”

“What?!? Jin, real-“

“Yes, really. Trust me, it’ll be perfect. Perfect for my princess <3 Now go grab your stuff!” With that, he placed a warm kiss on your head and turned to the car. You stood there for a moment, in a daze, when you heard him call out, “Warm clothes! I mean it!”

You turned with a huff, finding his extravagance annoying and amusing at the same time. But once he has his mind set on something, whether it’s a goal, an aesthetic, or anything, he’ll stop at nothing to see it executed perfectly. Sometimes the most you could do was shake your head and hang on for the ride. You slipped a pair of jeans over your leggings, grabbed a coat, grabbed several blankets, and put on a pair of boots. Considering the weather hasn’t reached full winter, you thought you might be overdressed, but then again, Jin warned you to dress warmly and he usually says exactly what he means. You poured your tea into a travel mug and waddled your way towards the door, the big load making you clumsier than ever. Getting impatient, Jin made his way back to the door and was greeted by the sight of you trying to balance several blankets, your coat, and a hot cup of tea. He broke out into a grin and leaned his tall frame on the doorway.

“Need some help, love?” he taunted. You barely managed to give him a pout over the blankets in response. He laughed before taking several blankets from you, as well as a firm kiss.

“This date better be damn good,” you huffed.

“Trust me, my love, it’ll be worth it,” he promised, the look in his eye warming as he took in your bundled-up figure.

You throw the blankets in the backseat and tried to peer around to see what he was up to. Before you could make out anything besides the massive pile of blankets and pillows he pulled you back by your waist with a tut. He threw the blankets past you and pulled you closer.

“Don’t ruin the surprise, sweetie! Upfront you go!” He said as he steered you to the passenger side, landing a little smack on your butt. You turned at him indignantly, only to feel his lush lips crash into yours. He pressed you against the cool car door, his lips softening and deepening the kiss till your lungs burned for air. When he finally broke free he buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply. Pulling back, you could see a flame in his dark eyes as well as a satisfied smile on his flushed lips.

“Been thinking of that all day,” he said with a dark chuckle. Walking away towards the driver’s side, leaving you stunned, you heard him call out,

“Ah, aren’t you lucky?!? Having such a handsome and romantic man by your side?!?”

You both climbed into the car, giggling. Just before you clicked your seatbelt in you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He poured out all his sweet affection as he gazed back at you.

“I am so, so, lucky. I love you, my handsome man,” you admitted once more. No matter how many times you say it, you mean it fully every time. The raw tenderness of the moment thickened the air, till it was nearly suffocating.

“You forgot “romantic”, love,” he prodded with a taunting smile, cutting the tension in half. You shoved him back, laughing. His smirk grew into a cheeky grin, wide and heartfelt. He settled into the driver’s seat and pulled the car out of park.

“I can’t wait to show you what I have planned.”

The drive stretched into the evening. The sun was lowering itself towards the horizon, staining the clouds overhead, and a sweet chill settled throughout the air. The ride was peaceful with gentle music and contentment filling up the car. You watched as the suburbs waned into rural areas, till finally, you were in the palms of nature. The road you had taken stretched up and over the expanse of the mountains. You understood why Jin wanted the G Wagon now. The Lamborghini wouldn’t have been able to handle these overgrown dirt roads.

Despite the slight jarring of the road, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. Every turn had the sun shifting between the flushed crowns of the towering trees, casting a new perspective throughout the expansive woods. The road wound up and down, around and between the folds of the mountains. Eventually, the road passed between two peaks and descended into a deep valley, free from the touch of humanity. Still, Jin drove further before pulling off the main path. You were slightly alarmed but too curious to question him. Not far from the road was a small clearing, filled with tall grass and resistant flowers, encircled by a ring of fiery trees. Jin pulled the car around so that the back of the car was facing the clearing.

“Stay right here, and no peeking!” Jin said as he began grabbing things and clamoring out of the car.

“What happens if I peek?” you asked with feigned innocence. His head popped around the corner, his eyes were dark and ominous. Altogether, the image was an adorable collage of contradictions. His serious glare contrasting the tufts of dark hair that peaked out if his pink hat, his strong athletic figure hidden under a corresponding large pink hoodie, and the brightness of the pink against the dim and withering outdoors. He reached over grabbed your chin and pulled you towards him.

“If you peek, I will not share the wine I bought for us,” he threatened in a low voice. Your eyes lit up.

“You got us wine?!?” You exclaimed. Jin always knew where to find the best wine. Never once has his taste failed you! It seemed he always knew what you were craving and what paired with the meal best. He dropped his head with a sigh, mentally kicking himself for giving you too much information. But when he lifted his head and looked into your shimmering, anticipating eyes, he lost any sense of negativity.

“Of course I got us wine! I’m the most romantic man in this country, if not the world! How could you forget my virtues so easily?” He whined. Laughing at his antics you asked, “Did you bring roses as well?” with a tease. He looked you dead in the eye before grabbing a rose bouquet from the back. With a cock of his eyebrow, he handed them to you as you stared back in delighted shock.

“It would be unforgivable if I didn’t, beautiful. Can you even imagine it? Me? Forgetting to bring roses? Absurd! Did my princess forget who she’s with?” His rambling left you in a fit of laughter as you took the roses from him. He smiled softly before pinching your cheek. “It’ll be just a second, love.”

You sat back and listened to him positioning things and rustling around, fighting the increasing need to give just one backward glance. Instead, you finished off your tea and focused on the sickly-sweet scent of the roses. A minute or two later Jin opens your door and offers you his hand. You take it with a smile that causes his heart to flutter. Hopping out of the car, he guides you towards the trunk, presenting the most beautiful and endearing sight.

The backseats had been removed, giving enough room to lounge comfortably together. The bed of the car had a thick pillow-like blanket over it, and the sides were lined with pillows. The trunk door hung over you with fairy light strewn all over it, reaching all around the upper interior of the car. An open picnic basket filled with hot food and thermostats sat in the middle with a bottle of your favorite wine placed strategically in front. You gasp, unable to close your mouth and unable to stop smiling. Tears welled up in your eyes as you drank it all in. Meanwhile, Jin was eagerly drinking in your reaction, heart-swelling at your glistening eyes. He turned you towards him by your waist, your eyes a little slower to follow. But once they’re on him the whole world seems to pale in comparison. He leaned in and kissed you affectionately, engulfing your lips with his. His arms coiled tightly around the curve of your waist as you reached up and over his broad shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck. You both stayed like this for a minute, completely satisfied to just hold one another for a little while. When he pulled away you breathed out, “Jin this is perfect.”

“Did you expect anything less from me, princess? “he said with a breathy laugh, “Go ahead. Get comfortable,” he said as he nudged you towards the trunk, following in close pursuit. He laughed as you excitedly hopped into the back like a child.

Time streaked by as you two dined on Jin’s homemade dishes and slowly emptied the wine bottle. You talked in between bites, sharing secrets and small proclamations of love. The sun had all but entirely disappeared over the horizon before Jin pushed the basket away, grabbing a case of fresh cookies and thermostats of hot chocolate. The two of you snuggled, nibbled, and sipped as you watched the stars come out of hiding. Eventually, time was lost on you two. An endless sea of stars stretched overhead as you two discussed the wonders and possibilities of the universe.

“Jin, do you think we knew each other in a past life?” You questioned dreamingly. He turned towards you, drinking in your image and your presence, wondering how he could’ve survived any life without you.

“I’m not sure. If we did, I don’t think you could ever forget me” he said bluntly, causing you to scoff before he could finish, “I know I sure as hell could never forget you.”

You froze slightly before looking up into his eyes, with your own resembling an owl. They bore down on you, dark, strong, intense, and completely certain. The next thing you knew, you were bound in his arms, seeing nothing but fireworks as he pressed his lips further than before. His tongue gently worked its way into your mouth, hypnotizing you completely as you melt into his arms. The make-out session intensifies, till you’re both tired and out of breath. Tipsy from the wine and each other, you both opt to snuggle close to each other for a cozy nap under the stars.

Hours had passed before the extreme cold woke both of your shivering figures. Jin sat up, wincing at the soreness over his body. You followed with a similar grimace, trying to comprehend your surroundings. You both had fallen asleep in each other embrace, but as the night stretched on and the temperatures dropped, not even your body heat could fight off the bitter cold. The blankets were stiff too. In fact, upon closer examination, you could plainly see the frost that coated the blankets and matted your hair as well as Jin’s.

Had the cold not turned you miserable, the scene would have been breathtaking. It was the first frost of the season, and it had certainly set a standard for the approaching winter. The frost had taken hold over the clearing, claiming the last few standing flowers and weighing down the tall grass. Your combined breath hung like clouds in the still air, the silvery full moon casting an ethereal glow over the motionless woods.

Jin pulled himself out of the trunk with a mumbled curse. He unfolded his height and tried to stretch the stiffness from his muscles, earning and even deeper contortion of pain. He turned and pulled you out of the trunk, your muscles refusing to cooperate. Once you finally stood up, he shook out a blanket and wrapped it around you. He guided your sleepy figure towards the passenger seat and tucked you in. He made sure everything was packed up and then carefully drove out of the valley.

You woke up in your bed with Jin snuggled close beside you. You could barely recall getting home. Your throat was tight, your head was throbbing, and your lungs were burning. Soon you began to notice that Jin’s breathing was uneven, and his skin was flaring. Sweat was clinging to the both of you, and your body trembled in protest as you made a slow effort to get up. You gingerly walked towards the kitchen, making a hot porridge and honey-heavy tea for both of you. When you came back, JIn was tossing and turning with his fever. You set the breakfast down, hurrying to grab a cold rag for him. As soon as you placed it on his head he began to calm down. You slowly ate your breakfast, trying not to push your stomach too far. The tea helped immensely.

You were just about finished when Jin woke up. His breath grew shorter as he pulled himself up, looking around confusedly with the cool rag dropped into his lap. He was still horribly stiff and aching. You rushed over to him, gently cupping his cheeks. His frown deepening in your palms as he took in your own fevered expression.

“Jinnie, baby, how are you feeling?” You asked worriedly. He lowered his face into your palms, hiding his face before mumbling, “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You looked at him confused. Your hands drifted to the back of his neck and over his thigh as you lowered your head, trying to catch his eye.

“No, no, no, my love! Mi amore, how could you even think that?!?” You dotingly exclaimed. His head snapped up in an irate response.

“I should’ve taken you home!” He said as loud as his raspy voice would allow. It caused you to flinch. Upon seeing that he lowered his head and voice again, “Instead, I let us sleep in the freezing cold. And now, you’re sick. Because of me.” He bemoaned. You tutted before pulling his large frame against you.

“Jin, last night was perfect. I wouldn’t change one second of it,” you reassured him as you caressed his hair and rubbed out one of his shoulders, “We were both tired and tipsy. It’s ok,” before he could defend his guilt you added, “Plus, I’m already feeling better! Eat your breakfast and drink your tea, it’ll help. And when you’re ready, we’ll soak in the bath together, mmk?”

A pair of deep dark puppy eyes looked up at you before a mumbled “ok” passed his swollen lips. You pressed a kiss to his head and squeezed his shoulder before getting up to draw your bath. In a couple of minutes, he had finished his breakfast, feeling better as promised, and you had a steaming aromatic bath ready for the both of you.

He slowly entered the bathroom, guilt still evident on his face. You smiled at him lovingly, pretending to lean in for a kiss before pulling his shirt over his head. He became less tense with your antics and pressed you to the wall, reclaiming the kiss with a smile. You returned the smiley kiss with one hand pressed on his firm chest and the other sliding up to cup the nape of his neck. Your grin widened as he pulled back.

“You know, even when sick you’re still my Mr. Worldwide Handsome.”

“I thought I was the Dorito Man?” He said with a quirk of his eyebrow and a small crooked smile. You hummed with a gentle smile and gave a small nod.

“Yeah, that too.” You said matter of fact-ly.

He laughed softly before he began stripping you down. Before long, the bathroom floor was covered in scattered clothes. The two of you were snuggled against each other in the bath, tracing images on each other’s skin while exchanging jokes and kisses.

#jin #seokjin fluff #bts seokjin #bts fluff #oneshot #seokjin oneshot #seokjin boyfriend au #jin fluff #jin one shot #jin ff #seokjin ff #my fiction #my first fic ever #my first fanfic #my imagines #boyfriend au #3k words

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littlelottiethethottie · 5 years

Text

Jin X Reader The First Frost

“So, are you keeping things color-themed today?” You teased. He looked you up and down before cocking an eyebrow.

“What brings you here, Jinnie? You didn’t call or anything. And what’s with-”

“Surprise!” He exclaimed, “We’re going on a date! Go grab warmer clothes and as many blankets as you can, ok?”

“Wait, wait, wait! What’s with the car? What happened to the Lamborghini?!?”

“The Lamborghini wouldn’t work for what I’ve got planned, so I bought this.”

“What?!? Jin, real-“

“Need some help, love?” he taunted. You barely managed to give him a pout over the blankets in response. He laughed before taking several blankets from you, as well as a firm kiss.

“This date better be damn good,” you huffed.

“Trust me, my love, it’ll be worth it,” he promised, the look in his eye warming as he took in your bundled-up figure.

“Been thinking of that all day,” he said with a dark chuckle. Walking away towards the driver’s side, leaving you stunned, you heard him call out,

“Ah, aren’t you lucky?!? Having such a handsome and romantic man by your side?!?”

You both climbed into the car, giggling. Just before you clicked your seatbelt in you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He poured out all his sweet affection as he gazed back at you.

“I can’t wait to show you what I have planned.”

“Stay right here, and no peeking!” Jin said as he began grabbing things and clamoring out of the car.

“If you peek, I will not share the wine I bought for us,” he threatened in a low voice. Your eyes lit up.

“Did you expect anything less from me, princess?“ he said with a breathy laugh, “Go ahead. Get comfortable,” he said as he nudged you towards the trunk, following in close pursuit. He laughed as you excitedly hopped into the back like a child.

“I’m not sure. If we did, I don’t think you could ever forget me” he said bluntly, causing you to scoff before he could finish, “I know I sure as hell could never forget you.”

Jin pulled himself out of the trunk with a mumbled curse. He unfolded his height and tried to stretch the stiffness from his muscles, earning an even deeper contortion of pain. He turned and pulled you out of the trunk, your muscles refusing to cooperate. Once you finally stood up, he shook out a blanket and wrapped it around you. He guided your sleepy figure towards the passenger seat and tucked you in. He made sure everything was packed up and then carefully drove out of the valley.

You were just about finished when Jin woke up. His breath grew shorter as he pulled himself up, looking around confusedly when the cool rag dropped into his lap. He was still horribly stiff and aching. You rushed over to him, gently cupping his cheeks. His frown deepening in your palms as he took in your own fevered expression.

“Jinnie, baby, how are you feeling?” You asked worriedly. He lowered his face into your palms, hiding his face before mumbling, “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You looked at him confused. Your hands drifted to the back of his neck and over his thigh as you lowered your head, trying to catch his eye.

“No, no, no, my love! Mi amore, how could you even think that?!?” You dotingly exclaimed. His head snapped up in an irate response.

“You know, even when sick you’re still my Mr. Worldwide Handsome.”

“I thought I was the Dorito Man?” He said with a quirk of his eyebrow and a small crooked smile. You hummed with a gentle smile and gave a small nod.

“Yeah, that too.” You said matter of fact-ly.

#jin #seokjin #seokjin ff #jin ff #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin one shot #jin one shot #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #seokjin boyfriend au #boyfriend au #my fic #my first fic

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shooter-nobunagun · 5 years

Text

Tea for Two (R-18)

//Random summer one-shot inspired by my trip to London. Takes place shortly after the manga ends.

R-18 because...I just do that.

---

“Ugh, it’s muggy here as well...maybe I shouldn’t have worn long socks,” Sio fanned herself as they de-planed, getting hit in the face with a gust of moist, not-hot but not-cool air. “Adam, I thought you said London was cooler than Tokyo during the summer...”

“Uh, this...is?” The British man raised a white eyebrow as he hauled their bags over his shoulder. “I mean, Great Britain is an island love, I can’t do much about the humidity...but 23 degrees celsius is cooler than 29, no?”

“Yeah, I suppose...I guess I got spoiled spending all that time in San Francisco...ahh, the ocean breeze was soo nice! Geronimo and Babe Ruth said it’s because California has a dry heat, which is why it feels nice even when the temperature’s higher.” Stretching her arms out, Sio seemed to be hugging the breeze as it blew again, despite the dampness in the air. “Well, better than melting in the sun during Comiket. Is London always this, uh...grey?”

“More or less. You’re lucky there’s no rain today,” Adam shrugged, running a finger through white locks that were starting to stick to his face. “But yeh, wouldn’t expect too many sunny days if I were you; I wasn’t joking when I said London’s pretty overcast year-round. There’s a reason weather is the de-facto conversation starter.”

Sio giggled as they exited the terminal, Adam expertly navigating them straight to the rail station. “Iya, I really do think it’s nice. I mean, it’s not all clouds—I can see some sun.”

“Like I said squirt, yeh got lucky today. Now come on, let’s catch the express before it leaves—I’m not waiting around for the next one.” ------- The rail system—or ‘The Tube’ as Adam called it—was quite similar to what she was used to in Japan, yet Sio couldn’t help but gawk at each station they passed through, wishing she had more than one pair of eyes because there was just too much to look at. Gothic architecture with modern skyscrapers, the iconic white, blue and red signs as the train screeched into each station...it wasn’t quite as clean or orderly as Japan, but there was something about the messy, almost frenetic atmosphere that made her feel more alive than back in Tokyo.

“Ah, Adam wait—” Sio fumbled with her newfound Oyster card, while Adam simply tapped his phone. “Wha—did you just pay with your...phone?”

“Yeh, everyone’s movin’ t’ contactless methods these days; the Oyster’s not bad if you’re visiting, but honestly it’s way easier to just use one thing instead of grabbing out a card over and over again.” Sio struggled to keep up through the crowd on her shorter legs as Adam plowed resolutely ahead. “Surprised Japan doesn’t, considering you can do just about everything else with your phone over there.”

“Huh...maybe it will.” After transferring to another line (with Adam grumbling all the way about how the DLR was still crap and why couldn’t they upgrade the line), they finally exited at Greenwich, where his mother lived.

“Right-o, here we are...” Turning the key, the wooden gate slowly creaked open, Adam going through the entrance while Sio was still entranced by her surroundings. Outside of London was much quieter, with more trees and greenery, but she could still see the metropolitan areas across the river.

“Oy Sio, you comin’ love?”

“Ah! H-Hai!” The brunette dashed through the gate, only to nearly run into an older woman with greying hair, and before she even said anything Sio knew this must be Adam’s mother. “O-Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t...I, uh...it’s...n-nice to meet you, Mrs. Muirhead.” She bowed low, face burning with embarrassment.

“That’s quite all right, dear. It is very nice to meet you at last, Miss Sio Ogura. Adam has told me much about you; quite fondly, I might add,” the woman gave a small smile as Adam broke into a faint blush. “Please, do come in and make yourself at home—and I do mean that quite literally; you’re going to be my daughter-in-law, after all.”

Sio squeaked incoherently as she and Adam both turned bright red, even though it was pretty much public news at this point. Adam hadn’t been keen on turning their engagement into a public spectacle, but he relented after Sio agreed with DOGOO’s committee that the world could use some good news after officially ending the war upon her return. Though, if she’d known what a frenzy the media would make out of this piece of news...headlines such as ‘ENGLAND’S DARK ANGEL PROPOSES TO JAPAN’S SECOND RISING SUN’ and ‘TWO TWISTED FATES: DEMONIC WARLORD ENGAGED TO BLOODY KILLER’ flashed in her memory, each headline getting more and more outrageous until she decided to never read another piece on their upcoming marriage again.

Luckily, this visit to his hometown was low-key and under wraps; a couple of folks here and there gave them sideways glances when they thought they weren’t looking, but for the most part the couple was mercifully left alone. Which was a relief, considering Sio wasn’t sure how much more ‘celebrity fame’ she could handle, even if they were international heroes. Some holders such as Gandhi and Babe Ruth took it all in good stride, but Sio just wanted to go back to being her introverted, otaku self.

Just, with a fiancé now.

“Wow...this is, your room? It’s so...neat.” Sio took a glance around, standing by the door as if waiting for permission to cross into such a personal space. A single bed covered in dark sheets sat in the corner, with a computer opposite to it. A couple of faded gaming posters tacked on the wall (she smiled inwardly as she saw an ad for Metal Gear Rising) and his guitar, which had been shipped back with his personal belongings weeks earlier, sat neatly propped against the corner. “You got a nice view of the river.”

“Eh, it’s alright; mum kept it tidy when I was away.” Adam sighed and flopped onto the bed. “Uh, you can come in, you know...”

“Ah! Sorry, I was just...nevermind,” she shuffled over to the bed, hesitating for all of two seconds before flopping down next to him, Adam’s arm automatically coming across to scoop her close to him. “It’s just...I realized, I’ve never known what your life before DOGOO was really like...until now.”

“Hn; ‘s not that interesting, trust me. Growin’ up in a small place, single-parent home, gettin’ into rows with wankers who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut...” He turned and sighed into hair, Sio flushing with coziness as he spooned her. “An’ then hearin’ voices in your head that you can’t make heads or tails of, until one day I finally realised, who I really was...what I was.”

“Adam...” Sio wanted to say something, but judging from his wistful tone and the way he was holding her, she sensed he wasn’t in the mood. ‘Maybe later on, when we’re less tired from the trip.’

She was just about to drift off into a nap when there was a light knock, followed by a “Adam? Sio?” and she shot up like a rocket, even though they hadn’t been doing anything.

“Hai—I-I mean, yes?”

“Did either of you want some nosh? I have tea ready if you’d like.”

Nosh? Sio was sure it meant something nicer than what it sounded like, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Her English was much better after joining a supranational organization, but it wasn’t perfect.

Next to her, Adam stirred and stretched, blinking those sleepy emeralds as he pulled his shirt down. “Sounds good, we’ll be right down mum.”

“Adam...what’s ‘nosh’? Is it something for tea?” Sio whispered as the two descended the narrow steps. “I’ve never heard of it...”

Adam could’t help but snort in response at the sniper’s confusion. “Hah, you could say that—it just means food, is all. Ah, I forgot; you’re probably not familiar with British slang...”

“Well, I mean I know some...like ‘bloody hell’, ‘bollocks’, ‘wanker’...”

“Er, Sio, those are swear words...best not to be repeatin’ them ‘round my mum, yeh?”

“Oh yeah? Well considering who I picked it up from...it’s your fault for swearing so much around me,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, only for it to turn into a squeal as Adam tickled her around the ribs. “A-Adam...! S-Stop it...you jerk!”

“Adam Muirhead, I thought I raised you better than to manhandle a lady like that. Especially your fiancée,” his mother appeared at the bottom, arms crossed and eyebrow raised in a manner that made her strongly resemble her son (or was it the other way around). “Tea is ready and waiting, you two. And please, don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s something else you’d like.”

“Oh, wow! It’s so cute!” Even though they often had teatimes aboard the A. Logan, Adam’s mother had clearly gone out of her way to make it special for her visit: a three-tiered dessert rack filled to the brim with tiny sandwiches, scones, and even some items she didn’t recognize—some type of pancake with holes?—both savory and sweet, and a large pot of aromatic black tea awaiting to accompany them. Small pots of clotted cream, jam and lemon curd surrounded her plate, and Sio had to stop herself from just shoveling every single item into her mouth at once.

“Do help yourself dear, and don’t be shy. There’s plenty more where that came from.” Her eyes twinkled in that way just like Adam’s whenever he was pleased about something, as Sio first took pictures of every single pastry with her phone, before popping them in her mouth.

“Uwaa! Oishii!! This is so delicious! Thank you so much, Mrs. Muirhead...these are really good! I’ve never seen them on the A. Logan, or even in Japan...” She especially like those pancakes—crumpets, they were called—slathered with a good deal of cream, whereas Adam preferred his with jam. “Wow Adam, you must’ve been so lucky growing up, getting to eat this all the time...”

“Hah, don’t get too excited, squirt. This spread is usually for special occasions; regular tea is closer to what we had on the A. Logan—but yeh, if you’re really looking for authentic, British comfort food, can’t beat mum’s cooking.”

Afterwards, Sio was so full she felt like dinner couldn’t possibly be an option, but as soon as she caught a whiff of savory meat and potatoes wafting into Adam’s room as they were playing video games...

“Whoa! Is this a...pie? I thought they were usually for desserts...”

Adam’s mother smiled as she put a whole pasty into the girl’s plate, with plenty of thick gravy and a spoonful of spring peas. “Yes, but here in England, they can be savory too. This was Adam’s favorite dish growing up. Beef and stout pie, with a side of peas and carrots. Actually, I daresay his favorite part isn’t so much the meat pasty as the glazed carrots.”

Sio’s eyes widened in their sockets. “Wait, Adam...your favorite food is...carrots?!” Even now there were still new things to learn about him, it seemed. Of course she knew favorite foods were highly subjective and could range from anything, but carrots? A vegetable? ‘That’s the last thing I’d associate with a serial killer...but then again, I, Oda Nobunaga’s reincarnation, like chicken, so look who’s talking...’

“Um, yes Sio...what, don’t tell me you find that hard to believe?” Adam pouted in mock disbelief. “I feel like you have this mental image of me being this, this...complex, secretive badass when I’m probably one of the most laid-back guys among all the holders...”

“A-Ah...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that...” Sio shrank back in embarrassment, but Adam and his mother only laughed in good humour.

“Ah, so I see my son wasn’t exactly open with you in the beginning, was he? Adam, you should know better than to toy with a lady’s feelings like that...”

“Mum! I did no such thing of the sort...I just wanted to make sure she was serious about it, first,” Adam complained, though his ears were turning red and he spent the rest of the meal in a hushed mood, though Sio noticed he ate all the carrots and even took the ones she couldn’t finish.

As she finally felt her eyelids droop during their tenth round of after-dinner Tekken, the sniper suddenly realized she didn’t know what their sleeping arrangements would be. ‘Uh oh! I-I mean, I don’t know how much Adam has told his mom, but...she isn’t expecting us to, to...share a bed, is she?’ Even though engagement was pretty much a silent indicator of ‘yeah we’re sleeping together’, there was no way Sio ever wanted to broach that subject.

“Um, Adam...?” The silver-haired man tilted his head in her direction as he shut off the console. “D-Does...does your mom...er, did you...have you, told her about...us? L-Like, y-you know...um, that...” She coughed awkwardly and a few seconds later his face started glowing as well.

“...Oh. Uh. Um. No, I...haven’t. I-I mean, what, did you expect me to tell everyone we’re shaggin’...? ‘Cause I don’t know about you, but uh, my...love life...is pretty private, even if it is my mum.”

Sio shook her head frantically. “N-No! I-I mean, I don’t want you to—no no, I don’t mean it like that, I mean you should feel free to tell your mom whatever you want it’s just—I mean, uh, how are we...sleeping tonight?”

As if on cue, there was a light knock again, this time his mom entering with an armful of blankets and a sleeping bag. “I suspect you two are probably all knackered out by now, what with the time difference and all. Adam, I’ve pulled out your sleeping bag from the closet, that and the quilt should be quite comfortable for you on the rug. And Sio, here’s an extra blanket in case you feel a chill at night—I’m afraid summers here aren’t as warm as Tokyo, it can get surprisingly cold.”

“Oh, th-thank you, Mrs, Muirhead...I really appreciate it,” Sio suddenly felt shy; it was strange to be taken care of like a child again, when she’d spent the last few years learning to be independent while strategizing and fighting in a war and even managing a relationship. It was like being young and home again, with her parents to dote on her and not having a care in the world.

“Not at all, dear,” said Mrs. Muirhead as she laid out the bedding for Adam on the floor. “You’re our guest, and family, now. I want you to feel as such.”

The sniper only mumbled a ‘thank you’ while looking at the floor, too self-conscious about her soon-to-be new role. ‘That’s right...and Mrs. Muirhead will be my mother-in-law, after we’re married...and my parents will be Adam’s in-laws...’ Strange how thinking on it so intently could make her feel so detached, all of a sudden. Shuddering, she hugged herself tightly trying to get rid of this odd feeling, before burrowing herself in Adam’s arms as she always did when she felt unsettled.

“Oy, somethin’ wrong, love?” Adam gazed at her with concern as he patted her head. “Don’t want my mum to catch on? I can move downstairs if you’d like.”

“No! No, don’t go...that’s the last thing I want,” her voice was muffled against his chest. “It’s just...sometimes I get this, weird feeling, I can’t explain it. It’s like all of a sudden I can’t feel anything...I don’t know why it happens, but it’s...weird. And I don’t like it.”

“...I see.” Adam didn’t say anything more, instead holding her tighter and rocking her slightly, patting her on the back until the girl’s grip eased up. “Better now?”

Sio nodded. “Yeah...thanks, Adam. I...I always feel safe when you hold me...”

A rush of warm affection filled his chest, not the first time but Adam was a bit surprised at the intensity of it. You’d think after being together all this time and hearing Sio comment so often on how much she loved being held the effect would diminish, but it seemed this was not the case. “...Of course. Sio, I...I love you.” He gave her a small kiss on the cheek, before pulling her into an embrace. “You know, it makes me happy to hold you, too.”

“Unn...” Sighing, Sio nuzzled his chest slightly, before finally settling underneath the covers on Adam’s bed. Well, at least his mother made it clear without words that she was all right with them sleeping in the same room, if not the same bed.

“I’m going to get some water, but you should sleep first if you’re tired squirt.”

“Hnn...oyasumi...”

Smiling to himself, Adam quietly went downstairs. There were times where he felt he had to do more for her, and still it frustrated him that he couldn’t protect her from these spontaneous bouts of melancholy—but then again, he still struggled against fits of depression himself, so perhaps he wasn’t one to judge.

“Adam? Still up?” His mother stared over the top of her spectacles as she finished the evening paper. “Is Sio settling in all right?”

“Yeh, don’t worry she’s pretty much out; poor thing must be right knackered after traveling so far.” He filled a glass from the kitchen and was just about to go back upstairs...

“...By the way, it should go without saying, but I am placing my trust in you, Adam Muirhead, as a grown man with the same level of responsibility.” Adam froze on the steps, not sure if he should turn around or even say anything, or if what he was thinking was what his mother was referring to at all—

“—No funny business. Is that clear?”

Adam swallowed nervously.

“...Yes mum.” ------- “Ah...I guess it did rain after all.”

Sio stared out the window next morning with bleary eyes, taking in a grey landscape as raindrops pattered against the glass. “Man, it’s really coming down too...”

“Well, better get used to it, squirt; welcome to summer in London.” Adam yawned and stretched lazily, still lying on the floor. “Though, it’s pretty unusual for it to come down this hard...normally there’s just enough rain t’ be a bother but not enough for an umbrella. Everyone just deals with it, honestly.”

Sio took a deep breath in, enjoying the fresh scent of rain. “Still, it’s kinda neat, I guess...also makes it a lot cooler.”

After washing up the duo trekked down the steps, only to find a neat platter of eggs, bacon, sausage and more, along with a handwritten note. As Sio marveled at the full English ‘fry-up’ additions of tomatoes and baked beans, Adam scanned through the note while shoveling a piece of blood pudding into his mouth.

“Huhn, mum’s out shopping. Says she wanted t’ get somethin’ special for dinner,” he commented while lazily spooning the beans onto his toast, before topping that with another rasher of bacon. “Seriously mum, there’s no need t’ go all out...”

“Oh man, I’m so full,” a sigh from the sniper as she sipped her cup of strong, hot, milky tea. “I can’t believe you guys eat this everyday...” She’d done a decent amount of damage, but trying to finish the tomatoes and mushrooms and beans was a bit much, and that wasn’t even counting this ‘blood pudding’—or as she later learned from Adam, sausage made with pork blood.

“Heh, not everyday, squirt. A full fry-up’s pretty time consuming to make. But yeh, it’s nice t’ indulge once in a while.”

They stared at the rain in a content silence, both sipping their black tea softened with plenty of milk and sugar. Although the rain certainly dampened their plans to explore the Royal Observatory and see the meridian line, Sio didn’t mind just staying indoors, cozied up with a warm cup of tea and her fiancé. There was something quaint about simply watching the rain in a quiet, English cottage.

Soon enough though, the two found themselves sitting in Adam’s bedroom again, this time with Sio perched on his chair in eager attention as Adam played a few pieces on his guitar. Even though it wasn’t anything beyond some acoustic parts, Sio still enjoyed hearing his smooth voice and the warm melodies from the guitar.

“You know, you really are a good singer, Adam,” Sio smiled as he put the guitar away. “I know you said you’re not interested in doing it professionally, so I’m glad I can hear it whenever I want.”

Adam couldn’t help but blush from her praise. “Anytime, love. It is a good hobby to have, even after all this time.”

Sio was now casually flipping through old picture albums and yearbooks, Adam finally having relented after she wheedled and begged him to show her what he looked like as a teenager. “Aww, you were shooo cute,” she gushed as the page fell upon his class photo during primary school graduation, “I just wanna pinch those widdle cheeks...” Still, she could tell from the photos that Adam had been quiet and rather serious, even as a child. While not outright scowling (as he so often did when they first met), it was rare to see him genuinely smile, although a later photo did show a boy with shaggy white hair sporting a small grin, though the occasion, Sio couldn’t tell.

Somehow though, as they were going through dusty picture albums with light banter about his old school life (’I can’t believe you didn’t have a girlfriend’), Sio found herself snuggling closer to Adam, enjoying his warmth and the feel of his well-muscled arm against her. And then somehow the photos were forgotten as she leaned against his neck, strands of his hair tickling her cheek and as she giggled he turned and breathed against her hair.

“...Can I kiss you?”

Sio felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks; Adam wasn’t the most romantic or best with sweet-talking, but when he turned up the charm it always made her flush from head-to-toe in the most vibrant of ways.

“...Yes.”

The photos were soon tossed to the side as the two rolled around on his bed, making out with the sort of fever passion that teenagers had when they were engaging in illicit behaviors while the parents were away. Sio wanted to take off her clothes, but it was hard to think about doing anything else while Adam’s lips were hungrily consuming hers, and especially when a hard lump pressed against her groin, making her insides throb with anticipation.

“M-Mm....A-Adam, w-wait,” Sio panted breathlessly as he lifted up her shirt, planting kisses all between the valley of her pert breasts now. “I-I thought, y-you said your, mom...d-didn’t, want us...ah!” She arched her back as he pinched her stiff nipple.

“Yeh, but only if she finds out,” a husky whisper as he slipped a hand underneath her shorts, only to find her knickers soaking wet as he began teasing her nub through the cloth, Sio whining from the stimulation. “C’mon, she won’t be back for another few hours, I guarantee it—when she goes marketing like this, she goes all out.”

“A-Ah, b-but...I, your...sheets,” the sniper moaned helplessly as Adam started to finger her just the way she liked—rubbing her clit with short, hard strokes while one finger dipped through the side of her panties into her hot slit, stirring her juices up until Sio felt like she was going to go crazy. “I-I...y, you know I tend to...make a mess...”

“Eh, who cares. ‘Sides, I’ll just toss ‘em in the wash after. Relax love, it’ll be fine,” he murmured, fingers now pumping in and out of her soaked pussy at a steady pace while Sio moaned and writhed. “Gods, you’re so hot...I want you so bad, Sio, right now...” He rubbed himself against her thigh and she gasped. “I want to just...shove myself into your tight, wet, hole...and never stop moving...”

“Nng...th-then, do it, already...what are you waiting for...if you’re so, desperate...” They hadn’t even removed all their clothes but Sio didn’t care anymore; she wanted him inside her right now, and especially with the time limit the sooner the better. “Please...put in inside me Adam, right now...I want, to feel you...inside.”

Growling, Adam hastily undid his trousers with some difficulty, before shucking off just enough to thrust in with a satisfying moan. “Oh! Fuck, you feel amazing, love...” Gasping, he immediately set a strong pace, Sio squeaking with each thrust as she held onto his shoulders.

“Oh! Oh! Ah...Adam...!” Breathing hard, she tried to thrust her hips to meet his, but it was difficult to match his pace when he was also desperately kissing her all over. “Nngg...it’s so hot, my body feels...so hot!” That boiling heat, building up deep in her belly and between her legs...arching her back, Sio could feel that tell-tale tension as her orgasm started building to the peak.

“A-Adam! I-I’m...I...!”

“Shh, hang on love, just...hang on for a minute, yeh?” Grunting, Adam forced himself to slow it down a little, even though he wanted nothing more than to thrust with reckless abandon and gorge himself on pleasure, until both of them were completely spent. The hot, slick tightness of her inner walls as they pulled and squeezed with each thrust...truly there was nothing better than making love like this, spontaneous and desperate without a care in the word. Sweat clung to his forehead as he breathed harshly, determined to come at the same time as her. She was going to come soon though, he could tell—and he was getting there too, sooner or later...

“Hnn...nnngg! A-Adam, I, c-can’t...hold back much longer...” Another tremor laced her body but Sio managed herself to hold back, letting out a sigh as the tension lessened—but just barely. That teetering, sparking pinpoint of pleasure that would tip at any moment...there was simply nothing else quite like it. It made her quiver and writhe, hold her breath and pant, clinging to that desperate edge...she squealed when Adam nipped her delicate pink breasts while running a thumb over her slick little pearl, her most sensitive spot. “Aaahh! A-Adam...it feels, s-so good...when you, finger my clit like that...! I-If you, keep doing that...I-I’m gonna, c, cum...!”

“Just do it; ‘m gonna come soon, myself...” he grunted, as Sio cried and fisted the sheets. Seeing his beloved sniper caged beneath his arms, both of them staining the bed where he spent his childhood...the juxtaposition of childish innocence and adult passion made for a strange atmosphere, but Adam didn’t have time to dwell on it as his orgasm hit, a strong wave of pleasure arching up through his belly and then up his spine; his release flooding deeply inside Sio as she gasped for breath, back perfectly arched. Heaving for air, he made sure to at least move off to the side so he wouldn’t crush her as he collapsed into the pillows.

“Hah, hah...I came too soon...” Sio mumbled in exhaustion, wishing to have at least held out for a little longer. “I always wish it would last longer...” Though she knew it was nearly impossible, still she would like to try holding onto that blinding pleasure, when she tipped just over the edge for as long as she could.

“Heh, I think we’d be in trouble if that was the case,” Adam responded drily, propping himself up on one elbow as he stroked her face. “But hey, that means there’s always round two...or three or...however many you want...”

“Adam! You perv,” she smacked his arm playfully as he returned it in kind. “Hmm, I want to, but your mom’s bound to be back pretty soon, right? And also, you need time to wash the sheets...”

“...I hate it when you’re right.” With a sigh, Adam heaved himself up and began to strip the sheets, now damp with sweat, saliva and...other fluids. As Sio put on fresh linens, Adam dumped the soiled sheets into the washer and set it for the fastest cycle.

Coming back, he expected Sio to be fully dressed, but instead the girl only had on one of his old t-shirts, not even knickers as she appeared to have fallen asleep, curled on his bed. For some reason, Adam found himself smiling, shaking his head very slightly as he too, decided that a kip wasn’t a bad idea to while away the time. ------ Something was clattering in the kitchen as he woke with a start, for a moment confused by how dark everything was until he noticed the time—

Shit.

They’d definitely overslept by a long-shot, the short nap somehow lasting all the way until his mum came home and, from the sounds of it, was already prepping dinner.

Well, whatever, he could just say they were tired from jet lag and not because of any little misbehavior—

—the sheets.

“Fuck!” Adam swore under his breath as he hurriedly tried to make himself look somewhat presentable, as the sniper next to him finally stirred from all the commotion.

“Mmmnn...Adam...? What time is it...”

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about the sheets in the washer—bloody hell—!”

“—Huh?”

And amongst the sniper’s confusion he darted down the steps, only slowing down at the very last second to make it at least appear like he’d just woken up, all the while praying his mother didn’t check the laundry when she returned.

“Ah, Adam. You’re awake, I see. Still getting over your jet lag?” His mother called out in a cheerful voice from the kitchen.

“Ah, yeh...sorry ‘bout that, we...didn’t see much of you today.” Making like he was getting some water, he casually circumvented the fridge as he surreptitiously tried to peek inside the washer—

“—I already hung out your sheets for you. Next time, don’t just leave them in there, otherwise they’ll get musty and wrinkled.”

Adam’s heart caught in his throat and for once, he genuinely didn’t know how to respond or what to even make of his mum’s answer.

“Is Sio awake? When I came back I saw the two of you were still asleep, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Shit, shitshitshit this was bad. There was no way his mother could mistake their relations now, not when she’d already subtly hinted at them last night. In a panic he tried to remember if he’d covered up Sio’s bare bottom or not, but at this point did it even matter? She’d come home, found both of them asleep, together, on his bed, with his sheets in the washer. Even if they were both semi-clothed, if that wasn’t a blatant ‘we shagged while you were gone’ Adam didn’t know what was.

“Ah, she, uh, she...just woke up I think.” His throat was dry and his heart was pounding, but there was nothing more he could do except pretend everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could get...

“Oh good, do you mind letting her know dinner’s about to be ready in a bit? That way if she wants to freshen up she has some time.”

Now was his chance! Mumbling a ‘yeh’, Adam beat a hasty retreat back up—

“—Oh and Adam? After dinner, let’s have a chat, just you and I.” His mother was smiling merrily at him, which was never a good sign.

Fuck, fuuck, fuuuuuuuuuck—

Mustering every bit of training and wit as Jack the Ripper, Adam swallowed nervously, nodded a ‘sure’, and resigned himself to the inevitable ‘sex talk’ that would no doubt follow dinner. ‘Fuck me...’

“Eh? What’s wrong, Adam?” Sio blinked those sleepy maroons at him, already changing into her usual outfit.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Adam sank into his chair. “Haaaah...I fucked up; the cat’s pretty much out of the bag, now...” The sniper blinked in confusion as Adam buried his head in his hands. “I fucking forgot to take the sheets out, so of course my mum noticed them when she came back and she saw us asleep, together—”

As Adam groaned about what a pain the arse this would make things, Sio could only muttered a very small ‘oh’, while turning a faint red. ‘Whoops...I guess I should’ve been more careful as well...’

“W-Well, I-I mean, I guess it’s probably...obvious at this point, right? I-I mean, you weren’t expecting her to think we were, virgins until our wedding night or something...” Sio blushed nervously, the thought of actually getting married and their wedding night making her more self-conscious than admitting to her mother-in-law that yes, they were sexually active. “Sorry...if you want, I can go with you...”

“Nah, it’s all right, squirt. It’ll just make things more awkward. ‘S fine, I kinda anticipated this sooner or later anyway so...might as well get it over with.” Sighing, he got up from the chair as Sio finished making herself decent. “Anyway, we can worry about that after dinner. Speaking of which, I hope you’re hungry, because I’m fairly certain I saw mum taking out beef Wellington from the oven...”

That certainly got the sniper’s attention. “Beef Wellington? I’m there!”

And despite the awkwardness the two went down the steps hand-in-hand, together.

Always.

#documentation #my sweetest one #//HAH #//i had this idea forever #//about sio visiting adam's home and meeting his mom for the first time #//and now i finally have some irl experience of life in london i got enough inspiration to write it

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pinesconessecrets · 5 years

Text

Pinescone Secret Santa

AN:

Pinescone Secret Santa for @oakwoodouroboros-fics-and-art on tumblr!

Takes place after Gravity Falls. Wirt and Greg have gone up to Gravity Falls with Dipper and his family, and while everyone else is out, Dipper and Wirt decide to do a little hiking on their own.

Wirt wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was winter up in Gravity Falls, and he and his brother were spending their holiday vacation with the Pines family. Everyone else was out of the Shack visiting with friends, and Dipper had wanted to take Wirt on a hike through the woods. It was pretty cold for a hike, and Wirt could take or leave the forest, given some of his past experiences. But Dipper’s eyes had shone with excitement, and he was so eager to show Wirt his favorite bits of Gravity Falls weirdness, that Wirt couldn’t help but say yes. So they’d bundled up in sweaters and gloves, packed some food, and set off into the forest.

That was five hours ago.

Wirt took off his gloves. Hiking had made him way too hot, and his feet were aching. “Dipper, if we are lost in the woods again…”

“We’re not lost!”

“We’ve been hiking for hours. In circles. See that tree?” He pointed. “That’s from twenty minutes ago. When I lost my sanity.”

Dipper stopped and looked around. They’d reached a small, flat clearing, still carpeted with grass even with the approaching winter. “Well…I guess this is as good a place as any to –”

Wirt dropped his backpack with a thud and collapsed to the ground.

“– stop. Er…yeah.”

Wirt rolled over onto his back and let his arms flop out to the sides. “I feel a sudden and profound kinship with Sisyphus, pushing his boulder time and again to the top of the hill, just as we circle endlessly in this eternal forest. I am weary in my very soul.”

Dipper cracked a grin. “Sorry, Wirt.”

Wirt waved a hand and then let it drop back to the grass with a sigh, closing his eyes. The chilled ground felt great through his sweater. Not to mention that his feet and legs were practically creaking with relief at the opportunity to rest. It sort of reminded him of when he and Greg slept in the woods in the unknown. Right now Greg was off doing who-knew-what with Dipper’s sister, Mabel. He wondered if Greg was as tired as Wirt felt right now.

There came a scratching noise.

He cracked an eye open. Dipper was scribbling furiously in his journal.

“Oh, please tell me there’s not some magic bug thing in my hair.”

“Hang on one second, don’t move.”

Wirt swallowed. “There is, isn’t there? Oh man, if my hair turns blue like last time I –”

“Tada!”

Dipper held up his journal. He’d drawn a sketch of Wirt laying in the clearing, completely relaxed in the downy grass, an expression of perfect peace on his face.

Wirt blushed. “That is so unfairly cute.”

“Yes, you are!” Dipper said cheerfully, snapping the book shut. “I’ve gotta make a record of every amazing thing I see. And that includes a certain future Poet Laureate.”

“Don’t forget his muse, with the blessing of the heavens on his brow and the map to my heart in his hands.”

“Oh now who’s being unfairly cute?”

Dipper grinned and lay down on the grass next to Wirt, his head pillowed on Wirt’s arm. Wirt scooted him closer and turned, so Dipper’s hair brushed against his cheek like butterfly wings. Dipper drew one arm around Wirt and they lay there, just breathing, the quiet noises of the forest drifting over them, the cool air kissing their cheeks. He was already cooling off, but Dipper’s body radiated warmth and comfort. He sighed deeply. Maybe hiking for hours wasn’t so bad after all.

Suddenly Dipper’s radio crackled with static.

“Dipper? Are you there?”

Dipper groaned and reached for the radio. “Yeah, Mabel, I’m here.”

“You’re back home by now, right?”

“No, but we’re close.” Wirt swatted him playfully and Dipper smothered a laugh. “Sort of close. Why?”

“So HAHA FUNNY STORY! You know that magic weather druid-rock we found last Spring and weren’t supposed to touch?”

“You didn’t.”

A shadow fell over them and they looked up. A massive wall of clouds was slowly moving across the sky, dark and foreboding. The air temperature started dropping so fast the hairs on Wirt’s arms stood straight up.

There was a buzz of static. “– to show Grunkle Ford!” Mabel said. “We’re all up at the Manor, so we’re inside and we’re safe – Greg too – only we might have caused a –” A burst of static cut her off. The storm was so vast and heavy Wirt’s ears actually popped from the pressure, and he could feel the weight of it on his chest. Thunder boomed and the clouds unleashed a blinding fury of snow and ice.

“BLIZZARD!”

They jumped to their feet and ran. Wind struck their backs and thin shards of ice cut at their hands and faces. And they were just at the edge of it!

“Dipper! Where’s the Shack?!”

“Dead ahead, I think!”

“You think?!” Wirt yelled. “This is it! We’re gonna get caught in a snowstorm and freeze to death!”

“Less talking, more AAH!”

They braked hard as a tree in front of them gave a mighty CRACK and one of the upper limbs began to fall. Dipper slammed into Wirt’s side, knocking them to the right. He hit the ground with a thud and heard Dipper give a sharp cry.

“Dipper!”

“I’m fine!”

He wiggled out from the edge of the branch, his backpack slung on his arm. Wirt pulled him out the rest of the way, squinting as snowflakes sliced at his eyes and face. The snow was thickening and the wind was now so strong Wirt was crouching to keep from being swept away.

“THE SHACK!” he yelled over the gale.

Dipper started to point and gasped, holding his arm. Wirt grabbed his boyfriend around the shoulders and ran, lengthening his stride. The wind screamed in his ear. He glanced back and saw nothing but a wall of pure white, swallowing whole trees, eating up the ground like a rabid beast. He ran faster but the storm was practically on top of them. They’d be swallowed up in seconds. His heart pounded.

Oh man oh man we’re gonna die we’re gonna –

Dipper yanked his hair and yelled. The Shack was ahead of them, slightly to the left, its dark peak already half-covered in white. He ran toward it. His legs ached and his lungs screamed and the snow drove icy fingers of death down his back –

They reached the door and Dipper hurled himself at it, forcing it open. Wirt tripped and crashed to the floor, dragging Dipper down with him. Dipper flung out a leg and kicked the door shut just as the blizzard reached the Shack, pounding furiously at the door, shaking the windows, whistling angrily from somewhere in the rafters like a very ticked-off tea kettle. The already-dark cabin slipped fully into the shadows as the windows darkened, so completely full of snow it was like someone had pressed pillows to every pane. The rafters creaked and groaned, and the shingles rattled, but the bones of the house stood firm.

For a second Wirt and Dipper lay on the floor, limbs tangled together, both of them breathing hard. Then Wirt dropped to the floor and started laughing.

“We made it!” he gasped. “I can’t believe we made it!”

Dipper went down on his elbow, half-smiling. “Yeah! Funny weather though! Oregon, am I right?”

Wirt laughed harder. It wasn’t even that funny, and at the same time he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. The wind moaned against the wall and Wirt couldn’t catch his breath for laughing. Tears leaked out of his eyes.

“Geez, Wirt,” Dipper chuckled, raising a hand to push his damp bangs out of his eyes. Instantly his face turned white and he dropped his hand.

“Wh-what?” Wirt gasped, glancing up at Dipper. “You – okay?”

Dipper didn’t answer, just sat up with a low hiss, one arm pressing the other to his side. “I think the branch got me.”

Wirt sat up too, still breathing hard, and touched his boyfriend’s shoulder. Dipper turned obligingly.

Wirt held back a hiss of his own. The tree limb must’ve hit Dipper with its outermost branches – the ones that weren’t as heavy, but were even more flexible. It had cut across Dipper’s back like a whip, slicing a jagged line in Dipper’s sweater and leaving a nasty welt. Wirt very carefully pulled the fabric away from the skin and saw bruises already darkening along the line.

“It really stings,” Dipper said through gritted teeth. His teeth were starting to chatter, too. They were both nearly soaked from the snow, and Wirt’s socks were soggy with melted ice. He shivered.

One of his fingertips brushed Dipper’s wound and he jolted.

“S-sorry,” Wirt stammered. “Can you walk? If you g-get us dry clothes, I’ll m-m-make something to w-warm us up.”

“We should g-get these off, first,” Dipper said, motioning to their clothes. “At least our shirts and socks.”

Wirt was really freezing now, and his fingers felt like frozen fish sticks, but he grudgingly complied. When he took off his socks his feet were blue – actually blue, like a cold winter lake. But the worst part was taking off Dipper’s sweater. Wirt had to help him, and even then Dipper’s face was tight with pain.

They left their clothes by the door and stumbled down the hall together. Dipper and Mabel were staying in the attic for the summer, but the stairs might be dangerous with their lack of coordination, so they went to the study where Wirt was staying and grabbed two pairs of pants and some of his thickest sweaters. Dipper stepped into the hallway to get changed.

If Wirt thought his legs had ached before, it was nothing compared to how they felt now. They prickled and ached and were somehow weirdly hot even though he was freezing. And they seem to weigh about 200 pounds each. Changing into sweatpants left him shaking with exhaustion. When he was done he leaned heavily on the dresser, debating the merits of collapsing face-first on the floor.

Dipper knocked at the door. “Wirt?”

“Almost done.” The door looked so far away.

“Hurry. We need to start a fire and get draaagh…”

Wirt forced his legs to the door and opened it. Dipper had braced himself against the wall, holding his shoulder. He grinned weakly.

“Th-thought that’d get you.”

Wirt winced and pulled Dipper towards him, so he was leaning on Wirt instead of the wall. They moved stiffly back to the front of the Shack and into the parlor, the wind whistling bitterly in the cracks of the Shack.

Dipper’s friend (Soup? Stew?) had turned the parlor into a second living room, with two big couches that folded out into beds for the old uncle guys. It had a big rug, a coffee table, some book cases, and most importantly, a brick fire place complete with a stack of wood three feet high.

Dipper let go of Wirt and reached for the lighter and the newspaper on the coffee table. Wirt knelt on the brick and began loading log after log into the hearth.

“Easy,” Dipper said, with a small laugh. “If you pile on t-too many the f-f-fire won’t start.”

“I will never b-be warm ag-g-gain,” Wirt chattered. “Not unless we s-s-set the whole Sh-Shack on fire.”

“Let’s p-put a pin in that.”

Dipper pulled sheets of paper from the newspaper and threw them on the logs, then clicked the lighter. Wirt forced himself to stand up, staggered over to a couch, and grabbed the thick blankets that had been piled on top. He came back and sat down, pulling the blankets around them as tight as he could without scraping Dipper’s back.

“We should really di-disinfect that,” Wirt muttered.

“Mmm.”

The storm was still pounding outside. They huddled together and sat so close to the fire their knees practically touched the metal grate. For a second Wirt wondered whether Greg was okay (haha, whether), but then he remembered Mabel had said they were all safe and sound.

A sudden breath of cold air touched Wirt’s neck and he shivered, scooting even closer to Dipper. His boyfriend dropped his head on Wirt’s shoulder with a sigh. Wirt’s eyelids drooped. The flames flickered higher, warming his numb face, making his cheeks tingle. He was so heavy, and so, so tired…

Dipper woke up slowly. His first thought was that he and Wirt had fallen asleep in the clearing, and his back sort of hurt because he’d laid down on some rocks. Then the full memory of the blizzard slammed into his brain and the pain on his back roared to life.

“Ow ow ow owwww,” he muttered. He opened his eyes.

He and Wirt had fallen asleep in front of the fire. The storm was still going outside, and the fire had burned low. But he was wrapped up in thick warm blankets, and Wirt had somehow tipped over and sprawled across Dipper’s lap like blanket, snoring and all. Dipper smiled and gently brushed Wirt’s bangs from his face.

Wirt gave a snort and opened his eyes, glancing up at Dipper.

“Are we dead?” Wirt asked. “Because all of my muscles hurt like we’re dead.”

Dipper grinned. “If we are, then we must be in heaven…because I think I see an angel.”

Wirt groaned. “Well you poetry is clearly dead…”

Dipper laughed and then winced as the skin on his back pulled. Wirt groaned and struggled to sit up, wiping at his face with his hand.

“Alright, okay, I’m awake. Can you turn so I can see your back?”

He did, letting the blanket fall away. Wirt pulled up his shirt, carefully avoiding touching it.

“Okay, well the good news is, I don’t see broken skin. The bad news is that all the skin I do see involves all the colors of the rainbow.”

“Hurts like it does,” Dipper admitted. “Honestly it’s a good thing Mabel does such good knitting, or that thing probably would’ve sliced me way worse.”

He held back a hiss when Wirt let the shirt fall down. Wirt tucked the blanket carefully around Dipper again and then leaned forward to add more wood to the fire.

“Okay,” Wirt said, standing up. “I’m going to get some ice for that –”

Dipper groaned. “Not more ice.”

“– and you are going to sit there like a good little mollusk until I get back.”

“Can you at least bring snacks?”

“Yes, but only for me.”

Dipper let out a smothered snort. Wirt moved away, yawning, and in a minute he was out of sight.

Dipper looked around. It was warm, but it was also pretty dark in here, since the only illumination was the fire. He got to his feet slowly, using the coffee table for balance. His joints popped and cracked and he suddenly had a deep sympathy for his Grunkle Stan’s arthritis. He stepped carefully to the standing lamp and flicked on the light. Instantly the whole room looked much brighter, warmer, and safer, in spite of the snow still hurling itself against the glass. He looked around again. Now if only he could find…aha! Right by Great-Uncle Ford’s sofa was a fresh pad of paper and a pen. Perfect.

When Wirt came back he had again situated himself in front of the fire, hiding what he’d done under his blanket.

“Oh good!” he said, spotting the tray in Wirt’s hands. “You brought food! You are my favorite person ever I am so hungry.”

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “You turned on the light? I told you not to get up. Now I get to eat the snacks all by myself.”

“Oh c'moooon,” Dipper groaned. He looked at Wirt with his best puppy dog eyes. “Please? I’m so hungry I’m dying…”

“Oh, fine,” Wirt mumbled, blushing bright red. “But ice pack first. Put it on your back and then hold it there by leaning against the coffee table.”

Wirt handed him the ice and Dipper complied, settling the blanket carefully around him. Wirt set down the tray and they made short work of the pretzels, Smoreos, and instant hot chocolate loaded with marshmallows.

“How long d'you think the storm’s gonna last?” Wirt said minutes, nodding toward the window, a Smoreo in his hand.

Dipper shrugged. “Probably until my Great-Uncle Ford can figure out a way to turn off the magic rock. So not long. I don’t know how long we were asleep, though, so who knows how long it’s been since it started.”

“I know.” Wirt yawned hugely. “Feels like we napped for days and I’m still tired.”

He grinned. “That’ll happen when you run like crazy from a blizzard after five hours of hiking.”

“On that note –” Wirt pointed at Dipper “I am never ever hiking with you again. I happen to like my nose on my body, not sliced off by frostbite’s ruthless cleaver.”

“Aw, c'mon! This was a one time thing!” Dipper nudged him with an elbow. “You know you were having tons of fun until the deadly blizzard!”

Wirt rolled his eyes. “Keywords in there are ‘deadly blizzard’, Dipper. Bilzzards are not my thing.“

“Fair point, fair point. Counterpoint, if you don’t hike with me, then you will be deprived of epic poetry material forever. Two dashing young heroes narrowly escaping the indomitable forces of nature? Tell methat doesn’t have ‘epic’ written all over it.”

“Weeeeeeelllll…” Wurt was trying not to smile.

Dipper grinned. “Alright, then…would this change your mind?”

He pulled Ford’s notepad from under his blanket and held it up. On it he had drawn himself and Wirt asleep in front of the fire, one of Dipper’s arms draped across Wirt’s shoulders, with Wirt pillowed in Dipper’s lap, ensconced in layers of thick fluffy blankets.

Wirt turned bright red all the way to the tips of his ears. “That is so unfairly cute.”

Dipper laughed (carefully) and patted the floor next to him, inviting Wirt to come closer. Wirt grabbed his blankets and obliged, pulling the tray closer. He grabbed the pot of hot chocolate from the tray and refilled both their cups, then settled back comfortably against the coffee table. They weren’t cold anymore, but they pressed together anyway, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee. The ice was doing wonders for his back, too. He took another sip of chocolate so he wouldn’t get too cold. The steam from the mug was soft and soothing.

Suddenly Wirt shifted. “Uh, Dipper, why is there a face in the flames?”

“Hmm?” He glanced up. “Oh that’s just one of those little soot ball things. Like from that one movie with the cranky girl who does all the chores? Mabel named it Cinderfuzzyballofcutenessella, but we just call it Fuzzy.”

Wirt grumbled under his breath. “The next time I see your sister remind me keep her far, far, far away from anything paranormal.”

Dipper chuckled and snuggled closer to Wirt. The fire burned strong and bright in the hearth, the smell of chocolate filled the air, and Wirt’s whole body warmed Dipper right to his soul, filling him with peace.

He rested his head on Wirt’s shoulder and drifted back to sleep.

#pinescone #pinescone Secret Santa #PInescone Secret Santa 2018 #Wirt #Dipper Pines #Over the Garden Wall #otgw #Dipper #submission

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merikathryn-blog · 5 years

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SOA: Sins of Our Fathers Part 5: Pig Trail

Deena and Kari loaded all of the stuff that they needed for a day long ride. Kari looked at Deena and said, “Do you think that Jax will be able to pull this off? Do you think he will be able to pretend to be Danny Weir?” Deena saw the looks of concern and fear in Kari’s face. She said, “Kari, Dahling! If anyone can pull this bullshit off, it will be Jackson Teller. I have faith in the kid. I also have faith in the woman training him. Remember, just raise him the way you want him to be.” Deena let a little smirk that implied something smutty. Kari said, “I can’t see him in that way. He has to be Danny, my best friend. Not Jax, a friend with benefits.” Deena said, “Girl, it has been a long time since you have had some benefits. I bet he could get your old engine tuned right up.” Kari pushed her back playfully, and said, “My old engine will be fine… I know how to perform system maintenance.” Deena and Kari both burst out in laughter as the Jax and Jigger exit the building.

Jigger looked at them and raised his eyebrows. He said, “Nothing scares me more than a couple of mean women cackling in the morning. It is worse than napalm!” Jax said, Yeah, I know! When napalm blows up, you only have to get hurt one time. A mean woman is a gift that keeps on giving.” He lets out a sexy little laugh with his sly grin. Jigger said, “You sound like a man that knows what he is talking about.” “Really?” Jax said, “You knew my mother and the women that I have had in my life are tough enough to survive her.” Jigger said, “Damn, Son! You have had some mean ass women in your life.” “You don’t have to tell me that, Brother. I lived through it.” Jigger yelled, “Okay, let’s mount up.” Everyone loaded up on the bikes and they pulled out of the parking lot.

It was a beautiful day for a ride. The sun was shining and the weather was perfect. Highway 23, or the Pig Trail as it is known, is a perfect road for a bike ride. The very scenic road was lined with tall trees and wildlife. There were many switchbacks down this rural two-lane roads. Scenic overlooks were everywhere. Jax had been on beautiful rides in California but he had never seen a ride this gorgeous. Jax felt so close to nature on this ride. He thought that God really does give second chances. He also felt safe and warm with Kari’s arms around him. He could not deny his physical attraction to Kari. She was the type of woman he had dreamed of. The loss of Tara, his children, his club, and his life were still way too fresh on his heart. He knew that he could not even begin to have any feelings for someone else until he figured out who he was to become. Jax took in this beautiful scenery and became overwhelmed by grief. He motioned to Jigger that he needed to pull over. They pulled over at the next scenic overlook they came to. Jax walked over to the edge of the road and just allowed the tears to flow down his cheeks. Kari walked over to Jax and put her arms around him so that he could cry. She just stood there and held him. Kari was starting to understand that Jax’s grief was even greater than her own. She had lost her husband and her best friend in the time span of a year. Jax, however, had lost his mother, his friends, his club, his children, and even his own life. She finally understood what grief he was going through. She did not know what she was going to do to help him heal. However, she had less than a month to figure it out. Jigger and Deena looked at them while they stood there. They understood that this was the first time that Jax and Kari had actually connected on a real level. Jigger and Deena finally believed that this hair-brained scheme from Danny Weir’s mind might actually work.

Jigger walked up to Jax and put his hand on his shoulder. Jax took a deep breath and let go of Kari. Jigger said, “We are only a few miles from Haw Creek Falls. It would be a great place for a little picnic and a nice walk in the woods. Hell, Deena and I might run out in the woods and do a little bit of romancing, if ya get me.” Jax nodded and everyone got back on the bikes and they rode to Haw Creek Falls. Jigger picked out a beautiful picnic spot, near a waterfall. Jigger said, “This place is perfect. A nice shady rock to picnic on, a nice place to cool ourselves off, secluded. Absolutely fucking perfect!” Deena said, “You are just hoping to get a few beers into us so we will go skinny-dipping, you dirty bastard.” Jigger said, “Guilty as charged. Punish me.” Deena shoved his horny old ass down onto the ground and said, “I gotta eat and stuff. You just sit there and think your perverted thoughts. It will all be okay.” Kari just stood there and shook her head, giggling. Jax let out a small laugh and looked down. He was ashamed of how weak he had seemed before. He wanted to erase that small break in his exterior. However, there was no way to go back in time. Kari, Deena, and Jigger all knew that Jax was vulnerable and emotional. “Fuck!” He thought, “What caused me to do that shit? I gotta get it together. Buck up and shut up!” Everyone sat down on the picnic blanket and Kari started emptying out the picnic basket while Deena dealt with the little cooler. Kari took out some freshly baked Italian bread, some cheese, some crispy cooked bacon, tomato slices, lettuce leaves, some homemade salt and vinegar potato chips, some mayonnaise, and some chocolate chip cookies. Deena said, “I got the best thing ever: Southern Sweetened Long Island Ice Tea with fresh lemon slices. Here is a gallon of it, Baby! I also have a Boozy Mudslide Icebox Cake. We are all set, y’all!” Jax said, “Y’all? I thought you were originally from Cali. You have been in these hills too long.” Jigger said, “Look around you, Brother. You have beautiful water, beautiful scenery, good food, great drinks, and gorgeous women. How could anyone say that they have been here too long? I hope I am here until I die, just like my brother, David. This is heaven, like he said. Enjoy heaven while you are here.” Jax looked around him and could not find one way to argue with Jigger. It really did look like heaven, compared to the concrete jungle where he lived in Charming. He had heard of places like this, but he had never seen one. He was struck by the beauty of living in the right now.

Kari handed out plates with the BLT Sandwiches, cookies, and chips on them. Deena handed out glasses of the Long Island Ice Tea. They just sat and ate, enjoying each other’s company, the scenery, and the amazing food. After everyone had finished eating, Jigger said, “Time to go skinny dipping. Hell the fuck yeah!” Kari said, “Look, I don’t have a swim suit and y’all don’t want to see this naked. I have gained like 15 pounds from drinking and eating all of this great food.” Jigger said, “Hell Kari! Have you not looked at me? I am not the picture of body perfection that the new Danny is.” Jax said, “How did I get brought into this? I was just drinking my tea and listening.” Deena said, “Kari, you and Danny are at least twenty years younger than me and I am going to do it.” Deena started to wiggle out of her clothes. Kari yelled, “I don’t have new titties like you do, Deena!” Jigger said, “Naked woman in the water. I have to take her wood as a life preserver.” He came out of his clothes as well. Kari looked at Jax and said, “Hey, if you want to go swimmin’, go ahead. Please do not let me stop you.” Jax said, “Are you trying to get me naked. Darlin’? All you have to do is ask.” He smirked and started removing his shirt. Kari got pissed off. She thought, “Yeah, I do want to see him naked. So what!” Then it hit her, “You have to treat this man as your best friend, not your best fuck. However, he probably would be my best fuck.” Kari did not date much growing up. Her dad was an abusive alcoholic and biker trash, not like the men she had in her circle. Her dad was a member of the Desperados, another outlaw motorcycle club. Her mom was a junkie. Kari raised herself. She did not have time to have very much fun. She put herself through school and took care of everything. David was only the second real relationship she had. She looked at Jax and knew that he had lots of experience. She yearned to feel a man’s hands all over her body and to feel truly wanted. Kari yelled, “What makes you think I want to see you naked? I am perfectly happy with you keeping your clothes on.” Jax playfully pulled at the loop of her jeans and said, “This does not have to be anything sexual. It is just a nice way to cool off on a hot day. I will even turn my head and get into the water. That way I don’t get to see you and you don’t get to see me. Fair?” Kari reluctantly agreed. Jax stripped off with no shame and jumped in the water. Kari hid behind a tree and took off her clothes. She knew that she was younger than Deena but she thought that she was ugly compared to Deena. Kari slipped into the water where no one could see her and swam over to join the group. Jigger said, “I am so glad you pulled that stick out of your ass and joined us, Ms. Federal Criminal Profiler.” Kari stuck her tongue out at him and splashed him with water. When Kari loosened up and was just herself, her natural beauty shown through. She had long wavy red hair that shimmered with the blue green of the water. Her hazel green eyes flickered with mischievousness. Her light freckled skin revealed that she was a natural redhead. Her figure was not perfect but her curves fell in a way that made her just as curvy and attractive as the road that they had just ridden on. Jigger said, “You are such a mean ass, even though you look like an angelic cherub.” Kari flipped him off and splashed him with water again. Jax looked at her and thought, “Jigger was right. This place is heaven and Kari looks just like one of those angel statues that you can get at any truck stop.” Jax realized in that moment that Kari was beautiful, beautiful in a way that he had not seen since he was with Tara. She was beautiful because she was smart, had a caring heart, wore a warm smile, and could kick your ass or slit your throat if you fucked with the ones she loved. Jax swam under water and grabbed Kari by the legs and threw her under the water. Kari’s mouth flew open and she nearly drowned because she involuntarily gasped because Jax had put his arms around her naked body and held her ass as he threw her. Kari was both embarrassed and stunned by her reflexes. She looked at the group still in the water. Jigger and Deena had slipped over to a rock just barely under water where the waterfall was spilling over them and began to have amazing looking sex. Kari felt so uncomfortable and exposed at that moment. She realized that she and Jax were basically alone in the water, naked. Kari said, “I guess I will get out of the water now. Jigger and Deena are off being Jigger and Deena. That just leaves you and me. You have to be my best friend so I cannot let this get confusing by putting sex into the mix.” Jax said, “Now wait! I did not bring up sex. I have not touched you sexually or anything. What makes you think that staying here in the water swimming with me is going to lead to sex?” Kari turned her back and stormed out of the water. She was pissed at herself. Kari put on her jeans and her bra behind the tree. She came out and just said the truth. “Jax, I mean Danny, I am the one thinking about sex. I have had a couple of one night stands since my husband died but I really have not had sex nor wanted to have sex with anyone I have a personal relationship with since David died until you came along and now my head is all fucked up. You are one of the hottest and most charming men I have ever met. I know I have to have a long-term professional relationship with you so I cannot be thinking this way. Sex just fucks everything up. Besides, once you get undercover and back into the club, there is no way that any of the Sons are going to believe I’m with you. I am not that pretty and I am not that savvy for anyone to believe that someone like me could be with someone like you. End of story.” Kari quickly fumbled with her boots and her t-shirt and headed into the woods. Jax jumped out of the water and put on his jeans and tried to follow her. The rocks on the ground were like little knives sticking into his feet. He had to go back and put on his boots before he could track off into the woods behind her.

Kari stopped running into the woods and stopped at the foot of a beautiful oak tree. She could see a squirrel in the tree next to it. She quietly cried. She had made an ass out of herself. She felt like the little abandoned kid that grew up in bars and strip clubs. She went back to being the kid that hid in the shadows because if she came out of the shadows, the monsters would see her. Monsters were real and she knew it. Not the supernatural kind, but the men who saw a little girl alone and thought he should have a sexual go at her. She was broken. She felt dirty and worthless, just like that little girl that hid in the shadows. How could she look Jax in the face again after that stupid display? In a way, she was longing for this beautiful and dangerous man to say that she was worthy to be with him and that he would always protect her from the monsters of the world, even if it meant that he had to be a scarier monster. She lowered her head and sobbed as she heard footsteps approaching her. She knew it was Jax. He had seen what a stupid little girl she actually was. She felt humiliated by her own actions.

Jax slowly approached Kari. She was sitting at the base of an oak tree and she had pulled her knees up to her chest and was holding them close with her head buried into the space between the knees and her body. He decided he would try to smooth things over with her without flaring up that infamous temper and emotional whirlwind. Jax said, “Hey, are you okay? Back there, what you said, you do not have to worry about it. I know that you only think of me as a job that has to be done. You have to mold me into Danny Weir. I have to remember that you do not see me as a man. You have to see me as a project that has to be completed. I get it. I am sorry that I pushed you to go skinny-dipping when it was obvious that you did not want to go. You can come back to the picnic area and we can watch Jigger and Deena go at it, but I tell ya, for a couple of older folks, they have the energy of young rabbits.” Kari giggled and finally looked up at him. Jax’s face looked truly concerned for her. The look on Jax’s face made it even worse. She looked up at him and said, “Thank you for being so nice to me when I am a broken mess.” Jax said, “Fuck, we are all broken. We are just lookin’ for people that have the same rough edges that we got so we can fit together.” Jax held out his hand and Kari took it. Jax helped her off the ground. Kari tripped and fell into his arms. Jax smiled and Kari just looked into those sparkling blue eyes. She said, “Fuck it.” She pulled Jax’s face to hers and kissed him. She fiercely kissed him with passion like she had been waiting to kiss him for every day of her life. Jax was startled but happily kissed her back. The kiss only lasted for a short while but it seemed like it was an eternity. Kari regained her logic and pulled away. Jax look at her confused. She started briskly walking back to the picnic site. Jax slowly followed her. He was stunned and a little let down that the kiss did not go any further.

When Kari got back to picnic area, Jigger and Deena had gotten out of the water. Jigger was standing there doing his best helicopter by whirling his limp dick in a circle. Deena had everything on but her shirt because she was showing off those titties that she was so proud of. Kari just looked at them and sighed, “These are the people I choose as friends. I am going to hell when I die.” Jigger said, “Nah, let me get this helicopter running and I will take you up to the clouds, Sweetie.” Deena said, “I’ll just stay here and give you a soft place to land.” They all just looked at each other and cracked up. The laughter was so loud another group started toward them so Jigger and Deena hurried and got dressed. Kari and Jax packed up the picnic and they all headed back to the bikes. They got back on the bikes and rode to complete the Pig Trail. Kari held on to Jax very tightly as they rode back to the Cathouse Lounge. Jax had such an eventful day that he did not even know what to say. The two of them rode home in silence and just enjoyed being close to each other on the bike. Kari knew that was all she could have with Jax. She had to accept it. When they arrived at the Cathouse Lounge, Kari told everyone that she was very tired and she was going to go on to bed. Jigger asked Jax to have a beer with him and Deena. Jax started after Kari but Jigger got him by the arm and said, “You really need to have a beer with us. It will only take a few minutes and it might save your life.” Jax said, “What the fuck, Bro?” Jigger just looked at him and said, “Give Kari a few minutes with her emotions and let her settle in. Then, you can go into there, Okay?” Jax reluctantly agreed. Jigger gave Jax a little background on Kari. Her father was the president of a club, the Desperados. They were serious bad asses back in the day. He was a complete motherfucker though. He did not do anything to protect her as a child. When a pretty redheaded child grew up in a strip club and a bar, perverts saw her and took advantage of the fact that she was an unattended child. He was running guns, bars, drugs, and hookers. He tried to love his daughter but he did not know what unconditional love was. He made Kari take care of the family. Her mom was a drug addict and kept falling off of the wagon. Kari learned from watching her family that she never wanted to be like them. When he died, it was a big relief for her. He no longer could manipulate and control her into giving him everything she had. David had mentioned that he wanted her dad to meet Mr. Mayhem. David was her original savior and Danny was her savior after David. Now she depends on Jax to save her. Jax had big fucking shoes to fill. Now, Kari made fucking sense to Jax. She was running from the life so she had to reinvent herself. Jax finished his beer and said, “I better get to bed. I don’t want to be embarrassed because she kicked my ass. Goodnight Jigger and Deena. It has been an amazing couple of days. I appreciate all that you have done for me. I will not forget it.” Jigger said, “I have one more thing that I am going to have to do for you. This is something I do not think you are going to like. Since your tattoo and kutt are both from SAMCO, I am going to have to contact that chapter and give you credibility. I know that you are dead and they voted for Mr. Mayhem. Who can I contact so I can have them vouch for you, Danny Weir, as a valued member of the club?” Jax took a big sigh and thought the only ones he could trust with this are Chibbs, Tig, and Happy. He told Jigger to talk to Chibbs and give him only broad information. Jax said, “Have them come here so I can talk to them face to face. That is the only way that I think I can get them to agree to what has to be done. It is really gonna fucking suck.” Jigger said that he would reach out to them tomorrow. Jax said his goodnights to Jigger and Deena and headed down the hall to see how Kari was. He slowly opened the door to room 5A.

Jax peeked into the room. Kari was awake and drinking a beer. Jax said, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be getting some rest? I need a teacher who is refreshed and ready to take on an impossible task.” Kari said, “I was just sitting here, drinking beer, and working things out in my mind. You and I are going to have to really focus on who Danny was. I have to forget that you are Jax Teller. We have to do such a good job that even I call you Danny and believe that you are. What feelings I have for you will definitely have to go on the back burner. I really wanted to fuck you and get it over with but I know it would complicate things. Now, Danny, you need to hit the shower. I already have. When you get out, I will probably be asleep. The same rules that were in place last night still apply. You can sleep on the other slide of the bed as long as you keep your dick to yourself. Goodnight.” When Jax got out of the shower, he saw that Kari was already asleep and curled into a ball. He decided to crawl into the bed and put his arms around Kari. It felt like it was right: right girl, right place, and right action. All seemed right in the world as long as she was in his arms.

The next morning, Jigger talked to Chibbs by phone and told him that there was something that he needed to talk to him in person. Jigger said, “Chibbs, it is very important that you come here to discuss the problem I have. Do you think that you, Tig and Happy could also keep a very large secret that will change your world forever? If you can’t, then do not come. If you think that either of them cannot keep the secret, then leave them at home. I am so sorry that I have to ask you to come here to do this. I cannot think of any other way you can do this.” Chibbs said, “I am kinda scared and oddly curious. It must be a pretty big secret. I trust Tig and Happy with all information. We will be there in a few days. Do you have anything we can do while we are there to make a little money for the club? We are a little cash strapped at the moment.” Jigger said, “There is a little job that I know you can do. The Mongols want to talk with a guy that is hiding out near the Indian Hills charter. His name is Jimmy Farrow. He is a money laundering genius. Skinny, a legacy member of the Mongols, is the owner of the Cathouse Lounge in Eureka Springs. If you can deliver him to Skinny, he can pay you top dollar. It is not going to end in murder, I promise. They need him to do a little work for him. Once Jimmy gets here and cleans the money, we can pay the three of you $300,000. Are you interested? If so, I will let Skinny get the ball rolling. One other thing: you need to bring patches that a full member of the Redwood Originals would have on their kutt, including Men of Mayhem.” Chibbs said, “We are on, Brother. What the fuck do you need those for? I guess I will find out when I see you in five days. Have a good one and make sure you love on that pretty wife of yours.”

#SOA #original fanfiction #jax teller

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