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floralseokjin · 3 years

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⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up.

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years. But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning.

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course.

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.”

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said.

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed.

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him.

You (9:43am) Of course, send the details. I trust your taste!

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself. Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly…

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you.

Seokjin (9:50am) The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30. Seokjin

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother).

You (9:52am) I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later!

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it.

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely. He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back.

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to.

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again.

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious.

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea…

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing.

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man.

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately.

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly.

“Hey,” you greeted back.

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment.

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous.

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #mls:drabbles #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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obx-adventures · 4 years

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The Introverted Twin

Summary - Being John B’s bookish twin isn’t easy. Especially with my best friend, Pope, being weird about me getting closer with JJ.

Catch up here: Ch 1

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Chapter 2

When I get home from my SAT retake, I’m met by John B and JJ at the porch. They both have huge grins on their face, and I can see JJ practically vibrating in excitement.

“Uh, what’s up guys?” I ask confused.

“We know that we fucked up the other day and we want to make it up to you,” my brother tells me as he puts his hands on my shoulders. “We are taking you to that planetarium in Chapel Hill that you’ve been wanting to see.”

I can’t help the enormous smile I give them. I’ve been wanting to go to Morehead for years, but no one would go with me. Not even Pope, who is just as nerdy as I am. I can’t believe the boys are willing to do this for me. I pull them both into a group hug and they both wrap their arms around me. I give them both kisses on the cheeks as I pull away from the hug and am surprised to see JJ blush a little.

We load into the van and I pull out my phone to research the exhibits we can see. The boys leave me alone, knowing that I like to make a plan anytime we go somewhere new. By the time we get to the ferry, I have the whole afternoon planned out.

“So, Sunshine, are you excited?” JJ gently nudges me with his shoulder once we sit down. John B is standing on the deck, so JJ and I are alone.

“So excited! I can’t believe you agreed to this. But I’m so happy.”

“Agreed to this? No way! I am not letting JB take credit. This was my idea.”

I feel my cheeks flush and quickly look down to hide my face. I’m stunned by JJ’s thoughtfulness. I always thought he wasn’t paying attention when I would talk about wanting to go.

“Thank you, J,” I say quietly.

“I told you I would do anything for you, Sunshine.” He grabs my hand and I get lost in the feel of our skin touching. While my hand is soft and dainty, his are rough and calloused. I’ve watched these hands fix the van, break open skin, and roll blunts. But I never realized how gentle they can be, how gentle JJ really is.

We sit in comfortable silence until my brother joins us. He gives us a weird look when he sees JJ holding my hand, but JJ doesn’t seem to care. Instead he prompts me to tell them the plan once we get there. I spend the rest of the ferry ride telling the boys about each exhibit we’re going to see.

----

JJ gently shakes me awake when we dock back on the island. After a full afternoon at the planetarium, I immediately fell asleep with my head on JJ’s shoulder when he got back to the ferry. I’m still pretty groggy so JJ scoops me up to carry me to the van. I immediately fall back asleep in JJ’s arms once my brother starts driving back to the Chateau. I wake up briefly when he settles me onto my bed 10 minutes later.

“Thank you, J,” I mumble as I adjust in my bed. JJ chuckles at my barely intelligible words. He leans down, brushes my hair out of my face, and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“You’re welcome, Sunshine. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

----

The next day, I wake up to the sounds of a full house. I check my phone and see that it’s already noon. I usually don’t sleep this late, so I jump up and get myself dressed quickly. When I walk out to the living room, I see all the Pogues chatting. Kie sees me first and pats the open seat next to her.

“Hey, sleepyhead, welcome to the land of the living.” I go sit next to her on the couch but lean in for a hug from my only girlfriend before getting comfortable.

I have always been grateful for Kiara Carrera. With my general awkwardness and having John B and JJ always around, I’ve always struggled to make friends. Pope and I bonded while in gifted classes in middle school and I was pleasantly surprised when he got along so well with the Gruesome Twosome (my dad’s nickname for JB and JJ when they were kids). But I never made any female friends until Kie joined our little group a couple years ago.

“How do you think the SAT went yesterday?” Pope asks me. I briefly fill in my best friend but change the subject before the other boys can complain. John B is beyond proud of my academic achievements but is quickly bored when Pope and I talk about school.

“Y/N, now that you’re done studying for your test, are you finally going to come out on the Pogue with us?” my brother asks me. I quickly agree to go with and start making sandwiches and packing snacks for our day.

As soon as Sarah Cameron gets to our house, we set out on our adventure. I’m pleased to see that the other Pogues are beginning to accept Sarah. Kie was vehemently against their relationship and JJ didn’t like her because she was a Kook. But my brother didn’t care and now she sits on his lap while he drives the boat and no one bats an eye.

Once we get out to our usual swimming spot, I decide not to jump into the water right away. As I lay down to get some sun, Pope comes over and lays next me.

“I thought you were going to come over after you finished the SAT yesterday,” I immediately feel guilty at Pope’s statement.

“Oh shit, Pope, JB and JJ surprised me with a trip to the planetarium yesterday. I completely forgot about our plans.”

“They took you to Morehead?” Pope asks in surprise.

“Yea, JJ felt guilty about the fight the other day, so he got JB to agree to go. They were waiting for me when I got back from the test.” Pope has a strange look on his face but before I can ask him what’s wrong, Kie yells to me from the water.

“You got JJ to go to a museum?” I can hear how incredulous she sounds without even seeing her face.

“Hey!” JJ yells, sounding slightly offended. “I can do smart people things. Plus, it was really cool. Y/N made me look through the giant telescope and we got to see this movie about the Carolina sky.”

I turn in surprise to look at JJ. I couldn’t tell yesterday if he actually enjoyed the trip or was just trying to have a good time for me.

“Dude, you actually liked that shit? I was so fucking bored!” I turn to stick my tongue out at my brother and see Sarah smack him upside the head, which makes all of us laugh.

“No, it was awesome!” I can’t help the smile that comes from JJ’s enthusiasm. Pope nudges me to get my attention.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going?” I frown at the hurt tone in Pope’s question. “I would have gone with you guys.”

“I didn’t think about it, Pope. They said it was to make up for getting into the fight the other day. I thought they meant it just for the three of us.”

Instead of responding, Pope gets up and walks to the back of the boat. He looks angry but I don’t know why. Even though he’s my best friend, we don’t do everything together. I really didn’t think this was a big deal, but I guess I was wrong. While I’m thinking about how to make this right, JJ climbs out of the water and sits next me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him,” JJ tells me. I turn to him and get lost for a minute while looking at his face. Just like the other day in my room, I’m in awe of how beautiful he is. Today, with the sun behind him and his wet hair hanging down, he looks even better. His eyes sparkle as they reflect the sun and ocean and his sun-kissed skin glows. He catches me staring and flashes me a blinding smile while raising an eyebrow at me. I quickly avert my gaze and try to change the subject.

“Did you really have fun yesterday? You weren’t bored like JB?”

“I had a great time. That stuff really was cool. Plus, I was happy to see you so happy.”

I don’t know what to say to JJ, but the butterflies are back in full force. It’s hard to doubt him when he sounds so genuine. I silently contemplate my relationship with JJ. I love to be around him and it seems like he actually enjoys spending time with me. But why?

After a few more hours of swimming, we decide to head back to the Chateau. John B has had a few beers, so I decide to drive back. Normally he fights me on this but Sarah grabs his hand and drags him over to sit with her. I see JJ sit next to Pope to try to talk to him, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the sound of the boat. When we get back to our house, Pope leaves without saying anything and I can’t help feeling hurt.

“He’ll come around, Y/N,” Kie tells me as she throws an arm around my shoulders.

“I just don’t get it. It’s not like I did it on purpose. I was just so excited to go, I didn’t even think about.”

“I think that’s the problem, sweetie,” Kie says kindly. She elaborates when I look at her in confusion. “His feelings are hurt because he thinks you don’t care about him.”

“Kie, he’s my best friend. Of course, I care about him.”

“I know you do.” I can tell she wants to say more but is holding back. When I raise my eyebrows at her, she goes on. “I think he realizes you don’t care about him the way he wants you to.”

My eyes widen at this. Is Kie trying to tell me that Pope has romantic feelings for me? That can’t be true. He’s never given me any indication that he does. But I suppose it’s possible that I’ve missed the signs. I’m usually blind about this stuff. I remember when a guy from school asked me out last year and John B laughed at my surprise. He said that the guy had flirted with me every day at lunch for months, but I was clueless. This is Pope, though. I know him better than I know myself. I would know if he was into me, wouldn’t I?

When we go back into the house, I start making dinner for the boys and myself (Kie had to go to the Wreck for her shift and Sarah had to pick up Wheezie) but my thoughts are still on my best friend. I’m startled back to reality when I feel something scald my skin. Grease from the bacon I was cooking for our BLTs has spit out and seared the back of my hand.

“Oh shit!” I yell as I run over to put my hand under cold water.

John B runs into the kitchen to check on me and offers to take over cooking duties. I go over to sit on the couch next to JJ while I rub the back of my hand. He reaches over to inspect my hand and looks concerned. Again, his rough hands hold mine gently as he delicately brushes his fingers over the reddened skin.

“You ok there, Sunshine?”

“I’m fine, J, just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Thinking about Pope?” JJ has always been able to tell when I’m lost in my thoughts. It’s strange because not even my brother notices most of the time.

“Yea, I saw you tried to talk to him. What did he say?”

“Honestly, nothing,” JJ tells me with a shrug. “He wouldn’t look at me and didn’t answer when I asked him what was going on.”

“Kie thinks he’s into me,” I admit quietly to him. When he doesn’t say anything, I turn to study his face. His normally bright eyes are filled with worry and his lips are turned down in a small frown.

“Well, do you want him to be into you?”

“He’s my best friend, JJ. I’ve never thought of him as more than that. And until today, I didn’t think he thought of me that way either.”

I don’t understand the look of relief on JJ’s face. But before I can ask him, John B brings over sandwiches for us. I spend the rest of the evening watching movies with the boys with my head resting on JJ’s shoulder. I fall asleep thinking about how I’m going to make things right with Pope.

Ch 3

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee

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writingformymentalhealth · 3 years

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Chapter 7

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.

Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst,

Part 1

Part 8

Masterlist

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The next morning, Joey woke up to an empty bed. Everything was folded neatly, and it looked like the bed had been untouched for the night and even though she felt hostile towards the Slytherin, she would have preferred to wake up next to a familiar face instead of a cold and empty room.

Sighing, she put on a dress, guessing that Orion and Walburga probably weren’t the breakfast in Pyjama kind of people.

In the dining room she only found Regulus eating his breakfast while reading the newspaper thoroughly.

She cleared her throat. “Morning.”

“Good Morning, Kreacher will bring you breakfast in a minute.”

She nodded, sitting down next to him, nervously playing with her hair till the house-elf brought her breakfast.

“My Parents aren’t going to be home till the evening and I have no idea where Sirius went.” Regulus informed her, not looking up from his newspaper.

She let her mind wander to Sirius; he was drunk yesterday and although she wished it was different; she doubted that Sirius Black would want to be the dirty little secret of somebody - yet alone herself. She looked at her fiancée who didn’t even spare her a look and had to blink back tears - she was in for a lonely summer and probably an even lonelier life.

She shuddered thinking about her married life with Regulus, her only source of affection being cold gazes and snippy comments.

After both teens finished their breakfast, Regulus got up, making his way to the door.

“Can we explore the house today?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I live here there is nothing to explore.”

“I don’t live here.” She said, fully aware of how pleading her voice sounded.

“There is nothing interesting here, besides maybe Sirius room - if you are into half naked woman on motorcycles, but I guess you already explored that thoroughly.”

“Reggie-” the nickname slipped from her lips so easily that it surprised even herself. She expected Regulus to be angry, but he just nodded curtly.

“Alright I’ll give you a tour.”

He walked her through the hallways showing her some of the guest rooms that all had a similar eerie decor that made Joey’s hair stand up.

“Told you.” He muttered after guest room number three, but Joey was adamant about seeing every room in the enormous mansion.

The last door of the hallway looked different, less dusty, and Regulus hesitated before opening it.

The room was beautiful. Huge bookshelves decorated the walls, a comfortable-looking sofa next to a fireplace, and a huge piano in the middle of the room.

“I like this room,” Regulus informed her, his eyes slipping over the furniture as if he wanted to make sure that nothing was missing

“It’s beautiful.” she walked to the piano, gently caressing the expensive wood. “Can you play?”

“A little.”

“Play for me.”

“Is this an order?” Regulus asked and Joey felt her body tense up, although the boy didn’t seem angry, just curious.

“Just hoping you will consider my request.”

He made a smacking sound with his mouth before his long, slender fingers found their way to the piano keys. He started playing a melody that Joey didn’t know, but she liked it, and most importantly she liked how regulus looked when playing the piano. So peaceful, so emotional, so young, so very human. Joey found herself fascinated by the boy she saw, and she clapped excitedly after he finished his play and for a short second she thought she almost saw him smile a little.

But his face soon became cold again as he informed her he had some work for his parents to do and she was welcome to look around on her own.

Shocked by his sudden change in demeanor, Joey just nodded, making her way back to Regulus room, plopping herself on the bed trying to read a book.

The next few days went by in a blur, the Black parents being occupied by something they called ‘important business’, Regulus practically ignoring her and Sirius still not coming back.

It was Monday evening during dinner that Sirius decided to rejoin the Black household.

“Late as always,” Walburga sneered as the boy sat down opposite of Joey.

Sirius stayed silent, shoving food inside his mouth while Walburga went on about what a disappointment Sirius was. Joey opened her mouth to say something, but Regulus shook his head, giving her a warning glare.

“And now to you,” Walburga said, looking at Joey and regulus, “you seem so distant with each other, why don’t you hold hands or something?”

Orion snorted dismissively. “They sleep in the same room I’m sure they are far past hand holding.”Joey felt her cheeks heat up as the two adults talked about her sex life so nonchalantly and her eyes automatically looked to Sirius, her subconscious still holding on to all the years that he has been her comfort but Sirius eyes were filled with something that could only be described as pure rage as he glared at his brother who didn’t even flinch under the older Black boy’s gaze instead he swiftly slipped his hand into her’s.

Sirius looked ready to burst and Joey felt comfort in Regulus casually holding her hand as Sirius stood up abruptly, walking up the wooden stairs in his room.

Joey’s heart sank. She hated it when Sirius got angry, especially when it was because of her, but there was nothing she could do for this situation - at least till the adults were asleep.

It was past midnight as Joey slipped into Sirius’ room, half expecting him to be fast asleep but instead finding his head in his hands sitting on the floor next to a fist shaped hole in the wall.

“Sirius.”

She didn’t get an answer she slowly made her way towards him as if he was a wild animal. Joey lowered herself next to the trembling boy’s body, reaching out a hand to comfort him but stopping a few inches before his skin.

Was it okay for him if she comforted him? After all, he wasn’t hers anymore.

Did he even want to see her?

Was he sad or mad?

“I’m sorry,” she stated, not sure for what exactly she was apologizing for.

The drunk make-out session? The break up? The hand holding?

“It’s just so unfair.” he breathed. “You’re the girl who called me an asshole the first time we spoke. The girl who tried to pay for our sweets even after she learned I am a Black and have more than enough money. You’re the girl who risked falling out of the window to feed the orphaned birds, who makes my breath hitch whether you’re wearing a tight dress or oversized sweatpants. You’re- “ he paused, his grey eyes locking with her green ones “You are my girl.”

She swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth heart still belongs to you.”

“But everything else belongs to my brother, doesn’t it?” Joey shuffled away at the sudden harshness of his voice.

“He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Some emotion swirled in his grey eyes, making her bite her lip.

“Do you love him?”

“No. You’re the only one for me, you’ll always be.”

Tears started pooling in her eyes as she faced the bitter truth her words held.

“You feel nothing for him?” Sirius clarified, shifting closer to her.

“Nothing, he is just the guy I am forced to marry.”

And then Sirius’ lips crashed against hers, holding her body close as if he was scared she might disappear. She buried her head in his neck, pressing kisses there too, inhaling his familiar scent of expensive cologne and smoke.

“It’s only for our parents? You don’t like being close to him?” Sirius asked for the hundredth time, searching her eyes for any sign of a lie.

“Yes Sirius. You are the only one I want to be close to.” He nodded, letting his head fall back down on her chest. “I still need to sleep in his room though.” She said, playing with Sirius’ soft locks.

He gripped the sheet tightly, trying to control the boiling anger that came with the image of his girl sleeping next to his baby brother. “I Hate him”

“He did nothing wrong, Siri.”

He gave her a dirty look. “He touched you.”

“For your parents. Now c’mon let me leave before we both fall asleep.”

Sirius grumbled as he pushed his body off of her so she could get up.

“Wait,” he said as she went to the door. She turned around, seeing a grinning Sirius handing her one of his shirts. “wear this.”

“Sirius-“

“It’s one of the shirts my mother purchased, she could never make out which shirt belonged to Regulus and which one was mine.” He grinned mischievously, “but Regulus can.

She rolled her eyes although taking the shirt out of his hand. “You’re such a child, Black.”

With one swift motion, she pulled her shirt over her head, practically feeling Sirius’ dark eyes boring into her body before she pulled over his oversized shirt.

Sirius smirked darkly, “Perfect.”

She rolled her eyes again before sneaking out of the door into Regulus room, only stopping in her treks as she found Regulus wide awake writing something on his desk instead of finding him fast asleep as she expected.

“I thought you were asleep.” She stammered awkwardly as his gaze met hers.

“I don’t usually sleep early.”

“But you are always awake before me?”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“We always went to bed together,” she exclaimed, puzzled by the boy’s behavior.

“Figured I’d be less awkward like that.”

Joey blinked slowly. Her brain couldn’t fathom Regulus black sitting somewhere thinking how he could make things less awkward for the girl he was forced to marry.

“That’s” she paused, clearing her throat, “very kind of you.”

He didn’t answer, turning around and packing away his things. And Joey had the feeling that she was supposed to say something, but she didn’t know what.

“I suppose you made up.” He said turning around gesturing to her shirt, “assuming that’s his shirt.”

“Uh yeah.” He nodded, pulling his shirt over his head before slipping under the covers. “So you always go to sleep when I go to sleep?” She asked awkwardly.

“No. I am going to bed, sometimes I fall asleep eventually sometimes I wait till you sleep to get up and read something downstairs.” He said, turning to the side, clearly signaling that the conversation is over.

Even though Joey thought she would have a good night’s sleep, being in the clear with Sirius and all, she couldn’t help but toss and turn in bed, Regulus confession stirring up a weird feeling in her stomach. Only an arm's length away from her Regulus too couldn’t sleep. Seeing Joey in his brother’s shirt, her legs covered in dark hickeys for some reason rubbed him the wrong way.

Next part

Hope you liked it :)

What do you think about reg and Joey ?

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 8: Coincidence

Chapter 7

Read on AO3

A few sessions at the stables passed since Claire and Jamie’s discussion about his brother. Claire had felt uneasy that first week, seeing him after he’d shared something so private with her, but he seemed to be none the wiser to her discomfort, nor did he have any of his own. He was chipper as ever and didn’t treat her or Faith any differently. It was strange knowing something so viscerally painful about this man’s life and going on with him as usual, like it was normal for them to have shared something like that. Claire supposed she should have been uncomfortable, but as more and more weeks passed by since that day, she felt nothing but at ease in his presence.

Additionally, as time went on, Claire was becoming more comfortable in her new role at the hospital. Joe was becoming a true friend. They could often be found hiding in the same corners, drinking coffee together, or taking lunch together. He’d shown her pictures of his family and she of hers, having to confess then that Faith’s father was not in the picture. Upon revealing the whole story, Joe had looked at her calmly from across the table they were sharing and said, very simply:

“Fuck Frank.”

They kept making plans for Faith and Claire to come to his house for dinner, which, of course, kept getting thwarted by conflicting schedules. It was a running joke between the two that they were actually only pretending to like one another, and making excuses to avoid going to each other’s homes.

God, she was grateful to have him.

For that matter, she was quite grateful for Mary Hawkins as well. While Claire didn’t see her in person anymore since Faith had switched appointment times, the sweet girl was always checking in with her over Facebook Messenger, asking her how Faith was adjusting. They, too, kept making plans to get lunch that were always put on hold, aside from the one time they’d managed to meet at a Starbucks for five minutes before Faith started panicking about the noise. Mary had been beside herself with apologies over Messenger, and Claire spent several minutes calming her down as well as Faith.

It would appear that a social life was always just out of reach for Claire. Oh well. Maybe someday. She was trying, after all.

The Facebook group of other moms was comforting as well, and even though Claire was hardly active in it, the sense of camaraderie she felt reading stories and seeing events planned for their children was uplifting to say the least. She often found herself wishing that Faith was able to enjoy these events, and that she had the time in her schedule with the hospital to even attempt them.

Maybe someday.

The equine therapy did seem to be helping, and so did Faith’s time with Mrs. Lickett. Claire had confirmed with her to make sure it wasn’t hopeful-mummy-blinders making her think so, and she’d agreed. There was improvement, however small, from the time Mrs. Lickett had met Faith. She did not have meltdowns with any less frequency, but they were the slightest bit easier to be talked down from. Not all of them, of course. It would be a while, or perhaps never, until Faith was entirely capable of stopping a meltdown once it started. But Mrs. Lickett seemed pleased with her progress nonetheless.

Claire was coming home to different crafts and drawings every day, and these past few weeks, they were all Halloween themed. Colored plates with google-eyes and construction paper glued together to look like pumpkins, bats, and Frankensteins, little ghosts on string made out of cotton balls glued to white paper, and even (with Claire’s permission) lollipops covered in tissue to look like ghosts. Claire was enjoying copying the faces that Faith and Mrs. Lickett had drawn on them to make Faith laugh before unwrapping them to eat.

Claire even considered picking up some pumpkins at a grocery store on her way home from work so she could try her hand at carving them with Faith. Claire’s unconventional upbringing had not left room for such frivolities, and Frank had never been interested in the mess it would make in the house, so Claire had never actually done it before. But the thought of trying something new with her daughter in their new life was thrilling to her.

Toni had informed them yesterday at the stables that for Halloween week, the kids could wear a costume, as long as they were able to ride safely in it. Claire was thrilled; she knew she couldn't actually spend Halloween with Faith or take her trick-or-treating, so to get to see her in costume, even not on the actual holiday, would be a comfort. She and Mrs. Lickett had discussed perhaps allowing her to take Faith trick-or-treating herself before Claire got home from work, but nothing had been solidified yet.

On Saturday morning after breakfast, Claire led Faith into her bedroom. Faith had a purple trunk in her room that she and Claire had adorned with countless princess stickers over the years, containing all of her dress-up costumes.

“Alright, Faith. Who will it be this year?” They sat down in front of the trunk together, Claire lifting the lid. “Which princess do you want to be when you ride Pippi this week?”

Faith often put the costumes on and wore them around the house, and now the apartment. This was only her fourth Halloween, so she hadn’t used them all for the holiday, but they had all certainly been used. Her first Halloween, Claire had put her in an adorable Dumbo costume. Her second, she was a precious little Minnie Mouse, and her third, she was Elsa, of course.

As she watched Faith dig through the trunk, her eyes fiery with excitement, Claire was sure she’d go for Anna this year. She was certain that if it were possible to wear two costumes at once, she would have been both Anna and Elsa last year.

So Claire was surprised when Faith pulled out a blue-green dress with Celtic trim.

“Merida?” Claire said, smiling through her furrowed brows. “That’s who you want to be this year?”

Claire certainly had no objection, but Brave had never particularly been one of Faith’s favorites.

Faith took the lid of the trunk from Claire and began repeatedly poking her finger into one of the stickers. Claire looked closer, and an enormous grin spread over her face as it dawned on her.

It was a sticker of Merida, riding her horse, bow and arrow aimed.

“Yes, darling!” Claire laughed, hugging Faith from behind and pulling her into her lap, sitting cross-legged. “You’re going to be just like Merida and Angus when you ride Pippi! Is that right?” She kissed her cheek repeatedly and tickled her. “Is that right?”

Faith giggled incessantly and squirmed to get out of her mother’s grip, but not before Claire planted one last kiss to her cheek. Dizzy with giddiness, Claire began cleaning up the mess that Faith had made of her costumes, and it wasn’t long before she heard the beginning of Brave coming from the tellie. Apparently, Faith had been getting the hang of the DVD player by herself. The Scottish burr of the protagonist caught Claire’s ear, and she paused, lingering on the Cinderella dress she’d just picked up.

Jamie is Scottish.

Her mind was suddenly treated to the image of Jamie’s face lighting up upon recognizing the Celtic patterns on the costume, and upon Claire telling him that Faith was dressed as a Scottish princess. Perhaps he would know without needing to be told. Was Brave popular in Scotland, or was that a sweeping generalization?

Either way, she couldn't shake the thought of those blue eyes, impossibly bright, his smile ridiculously wide (and crooked), his deep, chesty laugh. Yes, he would certainly get a kick out of Faith’s costume of choice. Faith certainly didn’t know that Merida and Mister Jamie shared heritage, unless she had some uncanny ability to place accents that Claire was unaware of. She’d chosen Merida this year because of her newfound love of riding horses, and it just so happened that the best rider out of the whole line-up of princesses in her chest was also the only Scottish one.

Claire shook her head, laughing as she closed up the trunk again.

Bloody funny coincidence.

——

Friday came, and Claire found herself almost as giddy as her four-year-old daughter. She was over the moon at Faith's excitement as she pulled the costume over her head.

"Now where did my little Faith go?" Claire said absurdly. "She was here just a moment ago, but she's been replaced with a Scottish princess!"

Faith gave a shrieking giggle and bounced up and down, jiggling her hands. Claire laughed out loud.

"Do a twirl for me, Princess, let me see."

Faith began spinning, the skirts of the dress poofing out. This was somewhat of a tradition for them. Whenever Faith wore a dress, costume or not, Faith loved to twirl and see the skirt flutter as she did.

"Look at you!" Claire said, clapping her hands. "Miss Toni is going to be so excited, and Pippi, and all the kids, and Erica." Faith dashed to her bed to retrieve Horsie. "And Mister Jamie, too. Mister Jamie will be very excited." Claire felt a rush of excitement herself, thinking of his face when he laid eyes on Faith.

"Alright, Princess. Off we go." Claire stood up and took Faith's hand, leading her out of her room. "Go get your pumpkin." Faith grasped the trick-or-treat pumpkin that was sitting on the coffee table. Claire knew it wasn't going to be filled at the stables as it would be on the actual holiday, but since she couldn't be there while Faith actually trick-or-treated, she wanted to be able to see her holding it in her costume for today.

"Can Mummy get a picture, lovie? Please?" Claire stood back with her phone. "Can you smile, Princess? Please?" Faith was holding the plastic pumpkin in front of her face, shaking her head.

"For Auntie Gillian, Faith," Claire pleaded. "You know she loves to see you in your costume, and Merida is her favorite! Please, darling."

At the mention of her beloved godmother, Faith changed her tune. She moved the pumpkin away and had an excited look on her face, and Claire immediately snapped the picture. She got a few more of Faith in various stages of excitement.

"Thank you, baby. You're a very good girl." Claire kissed her head and quickly sent the photos to Gillian, typing:

We went Full-Scot this year! How proud are you??

Her heart light, Claire led Faith down the stairs and to the car. Once Claire settled into the driver's seat after Faith was all buckled, her phone buzzed and she opened it to see a slew of messages from Gillian:

Gillian [4:32]: OMG!! LOOK AT HER!!

Gillian [4:32]: What a doll!! Tell her Auntie G says she looks beautiful!!

Gillian [4:33]: SCOTLAND! SCOTLAND! SCOTLAND!

Claire chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she put her phone in her purse.

"Auntie G says you look beautiful, darling." Claire flashed a smile into the rear view mirror, and Faith hummed contentedly. Claire had deliberately left Faith’s curls untamed today in an attempt to mimic Merida's hair the best she could without the wild red color. She was damn proud of how adorable her daughter looked.

When they arrived at the stable, Claire was certain Faith could have rocketed into the sky given how high she was jumping with excitement. When they entered the welcome center, there was a wide assortment of princesses, superheroes and Star Wars characters. Claire's smile widened to see Toni wearing tiny pigtail braids and a blue checkered dress.

"Not in Kansas anymore, are you?" Claire said. Toni looked up from her computer and her face lit up.

"Oh my goodness! Look at you!" Toni squealed with delight, standing up from behind the counter and stretching her body over it. "Princess Faith lives up to her title! You look amazing Faith!"

Faith hummed and twirled back and forth, swishing the skirts.

"Hello, Faith," Erica said sweetly, donning plaid, pigtails, and a cowgirl hat with matching boots. "I love your costume. Mister Jamie is going to love it."

"Oh wait until you see him!" Toni squealed.

"What do you mean — ?"

At that moment, the back door opened, revealing a little Captain America and his mother, followed by the most astonishing thing Claire had seen all day.

Mister Jamie was wearing a kilt. And a shoulder sash that matched, and tall boots, and a brooch, and a sporran.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

"He does this every year," Toni said, laughing. "A Highlander for Halloween, every day of the week!"

Claire couldn't stop staring long enough to respond.

"Alright Captain America, sir!" Jamie boomed, reaching behind the counter and producing a fistful of candy. "Here's yer bounty, lad. 'Twas a pleasure riding wi' America's finest." Little Nolan was beaming, and his mother was too. "Have a great Halloween, Mrs. Weiss. See ye next week."

As the two of them departed toward the front door, Toni looked like she was going to explode.

"Jamie! Jamie, look!" She was incessantly swatting at his shoulder.

He finally obliged her, looking down at Faith, and every mental image Claire had conjured over the course of the week didn't even come close to the real thing.

She didn't think his eyes had ever been bluer, or his smile more crooked, or his cheeks more pink.

"Well, what do we have here?" He crouched down in front of Faith, and the fabric of his kilt slid up to reveal his knees. "Is this a real Scottish princess right before my eyes?"

Faith gave another squealing giggle, bouncing up and down. What happened next was nothing short of astonishing. Faith, Claire's daughter that did not -- under any circumstances -- allow anyone but her mother to lay a hand on her, all of a sudden thrust her hands onto the plaid of his shoulder sash.

Claire's stomach lurched, about to launch into a speech about boundaries and personal space, but Jamie put up a hand to stop her, his eyes never leaving Faith.

"D'ye like my tartan, Miss Merida?" He was entranced by Faith, who was equally as mesmerized. She must have recognized the clothing from the film; all the men in Brave dressed nearly identical to how Jamie looked.

Her little fingers began circling his silver brooch, and Jamie’s chest expanded with pride. “That’s the Fraser brooch, has our motto on it as well. D’ye like it?” Faith just hummed and bounced again. “I’m glad to hear that. I like yer dress verra much. Ye look bonny.”

Claire sucked in a sharp breath upon realizing that her mouth had been hanging open since Jamie had appeared, and she snapped her lips together.

“This is just too perfect,” Toni gushed, coming out from behind the camera. “I have to get a picture of this for the wall. If you don’t mind?”

“No, of course, go ahead.” Claire threw a quick glance at the wall to her right, containing hundreds of photos of children on horses, getting high-fives from therapists, group photos at holiday gatherings, and so many more. To think of her daughter stuck up there among the throng made her heart swell.

She truly does belong here.

She watched in awe as Faith cooperated without question for the photo, not even attempting to cover her face. She was smiling the most cheesy smile Claire had ever seen on her daughter’s face, and Jamie’s was almost just as wide. Claire quickly shuffled beside Toni to get a picture for her phone as well. She sent it to Gillian before putting her phone away:

You won’t believe this. Faith’s therapist is an honest-to-God Highlander, and he wore this.

Pictures taken, Toni took Faith’s candy pumpkin and put it behind the counter for safekeeping.

“Are ye ready then, Princess Merida? To ride yer noble steed?” Jamie stood up and started walking toward the back door, and Claire had to scramble to grab her hand before she was out the door and a mile ahead of them.

“And where’s yer costume, Sassenach?” Jamie smirked, walking backwards as usual.

“The memo I got said the children were to dress up, not the parents,” she said, playfully defensive. “Besides, I haven’t worn a Halloween costume since I was still a teenager.”

“Och, ye’re no fun then, are ye?” he said with an emphatic wave of his hand. “How did ye celebrate the holiday all these years?”

“I didn’t go to those wild parties in college, or med school for that matter.” She shrugged indifferently. “Just watched a movie with my roommate, if we even had time for that.”

“And after that? Ye never dressed up with yer wean?”

Something dark clouded Claire’s mind for the smallest moment.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s her first Halloween! I think it would be sweet if — ”

“It’s a sweet idea. But you are a grown woman, darling.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Jamie didn’t miss how her face had fallen, how clipped her response had been. His brows crinkled together in concern. If he wanted to say something, he didn’t, and they passed the rest of the way to the stable in silence, save Faith’s incessant giggling.

Erica and Jamie got Faith settled with holding the reins, and then Jamie hung back, as usual, while Erica led Faith to the riding hall.

“Is it real?” Claire said abruptly, and he looked at her with confusion. “What I mean is…is the material authentic?”

“Oh.” He grinned, nodding in understanding. “Aye, ’tis. This is real Fraser tartan, in my family fer generations.”

“It’s lovely,” Claire said. “You only ever wear it on Halloween?”

“Mostly, but not only. Wore it to my sister’s wedding a few years back, our Ma’s funeral before that.” He said it so casually, but her heart strained to hear it. How much had this man suffered…?

“Special occasions, tradition, ye ken,” he said. “I just like to show it off on the days I’m allowed to stand out a bit.”

He winked, and Claire felt her cheeks get hot.

“What is it?” she said, eyeing the brooch. “The Fraser motto?”

He made a noise in the back of his throat and removed it from the plaid, handing it over to her. She held it close and ran her fingers over the letters.

“Je suis prest,” she read. “I am ready.”

He seemed taken aback at first by her perfect pronunciation and her translation, but then he smiled widely. “Aye.”

“Ready for what?” she teased, handing him back the delicate silver.

He smirked as he put it back in its place, then peered up at her through his lashes. “Anything.”

——

Claire watched contentedly as Faith rode, once again in awe at the sheer insanity of the coincidence that her daughter and her therapist had both chosen Highlander apparel for Halloween. It was like watching a deleted scene from Brave: the princess’s father teaching little Merida to ride.

And then she shook her head clear of that thought, admonishing herself for allowing such an inappropriate thought.

“Did you plan that?” A voice filled her ears, and she jumped.

“Hm?” She turned to see a mom looking at her, someone she’d come to know as Mrs. Beardsley in the weeks that she and Faith had been coming to the stables at this time.

“Did you plan that, you and Mister Jamie?”

“No, not at all,” Claire said, laughing. “She picked it because Merida rides a horse. I had no idea he was going to wear that.”

Mrs. Beardsley chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.”

“Isn’t it?” Claire glanced over at Kezzie, Mrs. Beardsley’s son. He was dressed like Superman, and his therapist was praising him in sign language. “He looks adorable, too.”

Mrs. Beardsley thanked her, and they continued watching their children in amiable silence. Claire had snapped about a million pictures of Faith on her horse, with and without Jamie in the frame. When they were back in the stable, Pippi brushed and helmet removed, Claire requested just one more picture.

“Could I get one of her with Pippi before you put her away? Without the helmet?” she asked Jamie shyly.

“Aye, of course.” He smiled warmly.

Claire snapped as many as she could, and though Faith was staring at Pippi rather than ever looking at the camera, she didn’t mind at all.

“Alright, got it.”

Jamie grinned and went to take the reins to put Pippi away, but Faith would not move at first. She was nuzzling her face into Pippi’s snout, and Jamie apparently couldn't bring himself to move either of them just yet. Unbeknownst to either Faith or Jamie, Claire snapped a final picture:

Faith mesmerized by her horse, and Jamie mesmerized by Faith.

She would not be sending that one to Gillian.

They returned to the welcome center, and Toni put some candy in Faith’s pumpkin, causing her to squeal with excitement again. Jamie lathered his hands in hand sanitizer before plunging his hand into a bowl full of little yellow, orange, and white triangles.

“What on Earth is that?” Claire scrunched up her nose.

“Ye’ve never heard of candy corn, Sassenach?” Jamie said playfully. “It’s quite American, I suppose.”

She chuckled. “Should I try it, then? Since I’m American now?”

“Aye, suppose ye should.”

Claire cleaned her hands as well before taking one of the little triangles into her fingers and popping it into her mouth. As she bit into it, her taste buds were immediately assaulted by the most sickening sweetness she’d ever tasted. Her face screwed up in disgust, and Jamie burst into laughter.

“That bad, is it?” he said, his laughter rumbling in his chest. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him laugh so hard.

“It’s revolting,” Claire said, not even wanting to swallow it. “I practically want to spit it out.”

He laughed harder at that, tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sassenach. I didna think ye’d be so appalled.”

“You either love it or you hate it, at least in my experience,” Toni said. “I could’ve told you she’d hate it.”

Claire did not miss the look he gave her in response, but she didn't have time to contemplate its intention.

She reluctantly swallowed the grainy sweetness, and she shuddered in disgust. “Christ. Remind me to never try anything you give me again.”

“Will do,” he said, laughter finally subsiding. “What sort of sweets d’ye like, then, if this was too much fer ye?”

“Richer things, for sure. Chocolate.”

“Ghirardelli or Lindt?” Toni chimed in. “The Lindt truffles are my favorite.”

“Oh, I couldn’t choose, I love both,” Claire said. Jamie popped another handful of candy corn into his mouth, and Claire upturned her nose. “I can’t imagine eating handfuls of that when such a thing as Lindt truffles exist.”

“Dinna yuck someone else’s yum, Sassenach. Must I talk to ye like ye’re one of the kids?” He gave her a mocking look of warning, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I love sour candy too,” Claire said. “If there are any sour patch kids in that bucket I may have to steal them.” She gestured to Faith’s little pumpkin.

“Here’s an extra one, just for mom,” Toni said, plucking a little bag of the sour candy from the bowl behind the counter and handing it to Claire.

“Thanks.” Claire smiled warmly, putting it in her purse. “Well, I guess we should be off, then.” Claire took Faith’s hand. “Say goodbye to the Scottish warrior, Faith.”

Claire gave Jamie a smirk, and he grinned back at her.

“S’long Merida,” Jamie said. “It’s been a pleasure.” He gave a ridiculously low bow, and Faith giggled. It took a moment for Claire to realize that she was giggling herself.

“Bye-bye, Princess!” Toni said, and Erica echoed.

Faith waved gleefully, yanking Claire toward the door, never one to delay her McDonald’s.

“Happy Halloween, Sassenach,” Jamie said warmly, hands resting on the belt holding his kilt up.

She flashed a final grin at him before Faith’s tugging won out, and they were out the door and walking toward the car.

Claire buckled in her squirming little girl, and she absently thought that it might be a struggle to get her to sleep tonight. Today was so wonderful, however, that she didn’t care at all.

Once Claire was settled in the driver’s seat, she reached into her purse to check her phone, having heard it go off several times while she was otherwise occupied. She chuckled softly to see five messages from Gillian, and then opened them:

Gillian [4:54]: holy hell Claire

Gillian [4:54]: ye’ve got to be JOKING

Gillian [4:54]: THAT is her therapist???

Gillian [4:54]: he is the hottest bloody man I’ve ever seen in my life

Gillian [4:54]: and he’s in a feckin KILT

Gillian [4:55]: if you don’t get on that i’m booking a flight and getting on it myself

Claire sucked in a sharp breath and threw her phone into the passenger seat, every muscle in her body stiffening.

As if the damn woman could sense from an ocean away that Claire was ignoring her texts, her phone buzzed again.

Gillian [6:12]: well? am I booking a flight? ;)

Claire [6:12]: Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, G.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #jamie fraser

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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years

Note

do you still take prompts?? i would love a lou and reid “kissing in public” one 🥺❤️

I’m always taking prompts! This came in such a good time because I have been trying to write a smutty Loureid scene and is just not coming out the way I want, so the break from it to write some fluff was blessed. Hope you like it!

Word count: 1800

PDA

Reid wasn’t a social butterfly, Louise knew that.

And it never really bothered her, not really. She loved her boyfriend the way he was— quiet, brooding and intimidatingly smart. Reid was loving and caring for her in the privacy of their apartments or their friends’ apartments. He had a complete soft spot for her and, the few times someone did see him smiling in public, it was usually at Lou.

Despite hating large gatherings, Reid would always go parties with Lou. He wanted to make sure she was safe all the time, and he knew Lou wanted him there. His presence was never a bother, always a soothing company. Lou could get extremely drunk and Reid would be there. She could not drink at all and he would be there. She could go to spend hours in that party or only five minutes and he would always gladly follow her.

He wouldn’t dance or even talk to that many people, and although his eyes would never leave her body while she danced.

Lou couldn’t really complain about her handsome boyfriend staring at her dancing as if he was going to devour her.

As she said, Reid’s personality didn’t bother her one tiny bit.

But apparently his behavior annoyed the hell out of him.

“Good morning.” Lou said lazily, padding out of Reid’s bedroom. He was sitting with his back to her at the table but she could notice how tense his body was. Lou walked up to him, hugging him from behind. His body immediately relaxed, and she pressed a few kisses to his neck. “Did you wake up too long ago?”

“No.” He said, pulling her around the chair so she could sit on his lap. He gave her a quick kiss before Lou turned to the table to grab a toast and put some grape jam on it. “Maybe half an hour ago? I didn’t want to wake you.”

Lou merely hummed, taking a bite of her toast. She offered it to Reid but he gave her a shake of his head, gesturing to an enormous cup of coffee by the table. “That much coffee will kill you one day.”

He laughed, but it was clipped. Lou fully turned to him, analyzing his features. Reid was the tallest man she had ever seen, so even on his lap she had to look up at his face. Ivory skin, deep cobalt eyes and coppery hair, the sharp lines constructing his face could have landed him in a model agency if Reid wasn’t such an academic. His features that were usually relaxed when it was only the two of them appeared tense.

Lou raised an eyebrow, smoothing the crease between his brows. “What happened, Chass?”

“Do you regret dating me?”

Lou blinked. “What?”

He sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. “I’m not really your type, Lou.”

Reid knew about her ex boyfriends. Knew that they were all as social and open as she was, but Lou never thought that it was something that bothered Reid or even made him think that he wasn’t her type. She liked smart, loyal men. Liked someone trustworthy and that would always be able to match her sarcasm and jokes with sarcasm and jokes of his own. Reid was perfect for her.

“Of course you are my type.” She said as if stating the obvious. “Why all this now?”

He sighed again and turned his head, ignoring her gaze. “Yesterday…”

“Oh. Oh.” Lou said, her gaze softening. They had been to a party yesterday, and everything was going as always. She had talked to everyone and Reid was content to just observe his girlfriend on her habitat. Everyone liked Lou, he knew, and it gave him enormous satisfaction to know that despite his reserves she had fallen for him as hard as he had fallen for her. He was thinking about that the night before when he watched a guy approach Lou from behind and start dancing with her. She immediately got away, saying something to the guy and then pointing at Reid’s direction.

The man looked Reid up and down, then Lou. And then he snorted and Reid could see his mouth forming the word “Him?”. Lou nodded, and the guy laughed again but left.

“No one understands how we’re together, Lou. Some don’t even believe. And there’s a fucking reason for that.” He looked back at her, his expression almost pained. “You couldn’t be more social if you tried, and if I tried to be more recluse, I wouldn’t even leave the apartment. I— I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You don’t fucking hold me back.” Her voice was harsh. She knew she should be nicer to Reid right now, it wasn’t really his fault he had insecurities about their relationship. She did too. “And the same way you think that, I do too. But I know it’s stupid because I love you and you love me and that’s all it matters. We never cared about other people’s opinions on our relationship. Let’s not start now.”

He snorted, not at all convinced.

“Would you leave me for a chemistry genius? The type of girl who can probably resolve problems in record time, undoubtedly watches those boring ass documentaries you do and most definitely has won about twenty seven awards on her field?”

“No, of course not. I would never leave you”

“Then why the hell would I leave you for someone that’s more like me?” She crossed her eyes and stared at him.

He stared right back, his features relaxing little by little. Lou never knew Reid even thought of these things. He had never even as much hinted jealously or doubt in their relationship and Lou was terrified that this would make him break up with her because he would think that he was doing the best for her. As much as Reid was a science genius, his grasp on other people’s emotions was a disaster.

“I love you, Reid. Part of me has loved you since the first time we met through Beau and you blurted out what my name meant when I introduced myself.” His cheeks became a rosy pink and Lou smiled. “You’re the best I could ever hope for. Your personality never bothered me, and if you decided to never go to a party again it wouldn’t bother me either.”

He nodded, resting his face on the crook of her neck and taking a deep breath. Lou’s arms came around his shoulders, and she just hugged him.

“I love you too, you know.” He murmured against her skin.

Lou smiled broadly, turning back to the table to eat another toast. “Of course I know.”

The rest of the day went by without too much problem. They spent the whole Saturday together at his apartment, eventually ordering food because Reid didn’t feel like cooking and Lou was a disgrace in the kitchen. When the night came and Coco swept by to pick Lou up to a party at Beau’s fraternity, Reid accompanied both women regardless of Lou’s earlier statement. He usually took care of Coco as much as he took care of Lou. And also Beau.

“Coco.” He said and Lou’s best friend smiled at her boyfriend. Coco and Reid had became close friends after he and Lou started dating. “Looking dashing. I’m sorry for my brother.”

Coco laughed at Reid while looping an arm through Lou’s. “I’m sorry for him too.” Coco chirped. Her and Beau had been playing that strange game of theirs for years now to Reid and Lou’s immeasurable entertainment.

When they arrived at the house, Coco left Lou with Reid to find Beau. Ansel wasn’t coming today, having an anatomy test tomorrow. Reid offered to help him study, but Ans just brushed him off and told him to go have fun with his girlfriend.

Lou expected Reid to go to his usual spot while she combed through the party, but instead he surprisingly slid his hand into her and took a step closer. Lou didn’t comment anything on it, but she would certainly bring it up later. He followed her around as she greeted people. She stopped to talk to a few, gesturing with a hand to the man behind her and introducing him as her boyfriend. As much as Reid wasn’t one for social interactions with strangers, he couldn’t help but be happy at the smile on Lou’s face every time she introduced him or got comment such as “You are such a pretty couple!”.

When even she tired of greeting everyone, she dragged Reid to the bar, grabbing one of those red cups filled with cheap beer. She offered one to Reid, but he merely shook his head and bent down to whisper on her ear. “I’m the DD tonight, baby. Can’t drink.”

“You’re always the DD.” She pouted but didn’t insist further. “I would be majorly pissed if I was always the DD.”

He laughed and pulled her to one of the armchairs near the beer pong. He sat down, looking at her standing in front of him a second before pulling her close to his lap.

“You were never one for PDA, Chass.” She mused against his ear so he could hear her voice clearly. His hands were on her hips, and she rested against his chest, one arm around his shoulders.

“I was going to let you roam around like the social butterfly you are as per usual.” He also said against her ear. “But you seemed so happy by holding my hand and introducing me to your friends that now I think I’ll keep you here for the rest of the night.”

She laughed, taking a sip of her beer. It tasted like piss as always.

“So I have the green light for PDA tonight?” She asked, smiling against his ear.

She could hear him snorting, one of his hands going up and down her back. “I am yours, Louise le Blanc.”

Her smile widened, and she pulled back to look at Reid. Even among this many people, he seemed for the first time completely relaxed. Reid wasn’t one for holding hands in public, or constantly hugging or kissing. She didn’t want him to change but it was so good being able to show her boyfriend off.

“Well,” she said leaning in. “Let me enjoy you then.”

His smile was as big as hers when she touched her lips to him. It wasn’t anything as hot or deep as they usually did in their apartments, but not even Lou would be comfortable doing that in public. No, the kisses were sweet and soft, and Lou couldn’t stop smiling as Reid kissed her through the night, completely at ease with her in his arms.

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling

(If you only want to be tagged on TOG fics please tell me and I will take you out of the general list!)

#loureid #louise le blanc #reid diggory #louise and reid #loureid fanfic #loureid au #loureid oneshot #serpent and dove #s&d #beau lyon #coco monvoisin #ansel diggory #writing #answered #shelby mahurin #mardu writes

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whitecatindisguise · 4 years

Text

Vocalised

Okay, so I don’t usually do sequels to oneshots, because that’s what they are: oneshots. But Silenced (which you can read here) was really asking for one.

So, here it is. Let’s wrap this story up.

------

Rapunzel let out a deep sigh as she looked out of the balcony. The black rocks were everywhere, piercing through the buildings. The rebuilding of the capital will take some time, but right now, they could do nothing but wait for the rocks to disappear. At least, they weren’t growing anymore.

Princess closed her eyes, remembering the events from yesterday. The black rocks entered the capital, destroying homes and shops, moving straight towards the castle. Her father told her to run, but she refused, wanting nothing more but to help her subjects. By the time they finally noticed what, or rather who the rocks were after, it was too late. She was locked in the rock prison, surrounded from all sides.

Then, something unthinkable happened. When Rapunzel touched one of the rocks, they reacted in an explosion of blinding light and deafening sound. Once they were finally able to see, the rocks, at least most of them, reverted to the ground, creating a path towards the Corona’s Wall.

Her father explained everything to her that day. How he was aware of the black rocks from the very beginning. How taking the Sundrop Flower summoned them to Corona. And how he never told her about it, because he knew exactly who they were targeting.

They argued, she cried and shouted, not understanding why he would hide something so important from her. He tried to explain, cover behind his will to protect her. Rapunzel was glad her mother took side with her. She, too, didn’t approve of his actions. To put the whole kingdom at risk for the sake of protecting his daughter. Daughter, who was perfectly able to do so on her own.

Rapunzel decided to follow the black rocks. She stated it as a fact, rather than asking for permission. She knew it was what she was meant to do. It was her destiny. And her father had to accept that. They agreed she would leave in a week, taking Cass, Eugene and Lance with her.

Green eyes opened and, once again, gazed at the demolished landscape. Is this how Old Corona looked like? Was it the view Varian would see every day from his bedroom window?

Her train of thoughts stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened in realisation and shock.

“Varian-!” She whispered, only now remembering the desperate plea all those months ago, on the day of the snow storm. How could she just forget about him? How could she not go and check on him once everything was resolved?

Rapunzel turned on her heel and ran out of her room, her braid flying behind her. She had to find Cass and Maximus. They needed to go to Old Corona!

~~~~~~

Eugene walked the cold corridors, a small shudder going up his spine. He never liked the dungeons. But he was here on a job, and he was determined to see it towards the end.

After the black rocks attacked the castle, many of the rooms were destroyed and demolished. There were several casualties, but luckily, no dead. Many of the castle workers were sent to assess the size of damage.

Eugene, along with Lance, volunteered to help the Royal Guard check the dungeons, making sure none of the prisoners escaped, as well as provide medical attention to those who needed it. So, there they were, travelling the dark corridors he never thought he would enter willingly.

So far they didn’t find any major issues, only several cracked walls and some of the prisoners needing replacing. The two friends turned the corner and noticed one of the bigger rocks destroyed the door to the lower level completely.

“Woah, this one doesn’t like doors.” Lance commented with a chuckle. Eugene smiled and rolled his eyes, bumping his adoptive brother’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s see what’s going on in there.” He said and the two carefully jumped over the rock and descended the stairs.

This level was anything like the ones they’ve been through before. For one, it was extremely dark, a single torch slowly burning on the wall. Second of all, the cells there didn’t have bars, but rather sturdy wooden doors.

“Looks creepy, if you ask me.” Lance said, shuddering a little at the eerie atmosphere.

“Let’s check it out quickly and get out of here.” Eugene agreed and the two spread out to cover both sides of the corridor.

Each room they checked was empty, and the brown-haired man was certain they would find nothing, when suddenly Lance took a sharp inhale.

“Eugene, come here and tell me you’re not seeing what I’m seeing.” The large dark-skinned man said.

Eugene raised an eyebrow at the statement and approached the door, taking the torch with him to get more light. He leaned over and peeked through the small window into the cell. At first he didn’t see anything, but then something moved in the corner of the room and Eugene felt his breath stop.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed in shock and horror, brown eyes staring at the small figure curled by the opposite wall. The light from the torch bounced off the cell walls and Eugene gasped when it illuminated the odd-coloured stripe on the prisoner’s hair. “It’s Varian!”

~~~~~~

Rapunzel stared in shock at the sight before her. Old Corona was even worse than the capital. There was no single building that was spared from the black rocks. The dark spires pierced the walls and roofs, rising tall above the houses. Worst of all, it seemed abandoned.

“This doesn’t look good, Raps.” Cassandra commented, jumping down to the ground and helping the princess off the horse.

“I- I didn’t know it was that bad.” Rapunzel admitted, looking around in horror. “Cass, we have to find Varian.”

“Raps, I don’t think-” The handmaiden was trying to argue but the blond-haired woman was already rushing towards the alchemist’s house.

She knocked several times, bouncing impatiently on her heels, as she waited for the answer. When none came, she hesitated for a moment, before pushing the door open and entering the silent house.

“Varian? Are you there?” She called out, taking careful steps around.

“That’s trespassing.” Cassandra hissed, following after the princess. “And the house is clearly abandoned for a long time. Look at all of this dust.”

“Cass, I let him be thrown away into the snowstorm. And didn’t check on him for months!” Rapunzel argued, moving towards the stairs she knew led to the boy’s lab. “I have to make sure he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Raps.” The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes as they descended to the basement. “The whole village probably moved somewhere else, seeing as nobody is here.”

Princess didn’t listen, as she pushed open the door to the lab. Just like the rest of the house, it was abandoned. What piqued their interest, however, was the enormous structure covered in tarp, taking up most of the room’s space. Curiosity taking over, Rapunzel approached it and in one movement pulled the cloth down.

Both of them gasped in shock at the sight. The structure turned out to be a monolith amber with a person stuck inside it.

“Quirin…” Rapunzel whispered in horror, turning to her friend. “Cass, that’s- that’s Varian’s father!”

“This doesn’t look good.” Cassandra repeated what she said back when they entered the village. But this time, the words had deeper meaning. If Varian’s father was inside the amber… then where was the alchemist?

A chitter from under the workbench startled both women. They turned abruptly and noticed Ruddiger, looking up at them. He seemed to search for something (or someone, as Rapunzel realised), and not finding what he hoped for, he lowered his ears and let out a saddened wail.

“Oh, Ruddiger!” Rapunzel cried, kneeling down and picked up the raccoon, the animal not even protesting at the gesture. “Cass, if Ruddiger is here alone…”

“Then something must have happened to Varian.” The handmaiden nodded in understanding.

~~~~~~

When both women came back to the castle with Ruddiger (not before checking the whole house and the village in the search of the alchemist), they were immediately met with Eugene and Lance waiting in the courtyard, both looking nervous and somewhat terrified.

“Blondie, I’m so glad you’re back-” Eugene started but Rapunzel cut him off, jumping down from Max’s back and running up to her boyfriend.

“Eugene! This is awful!” She cried, grabbing his shoulders. “Old Corona is completely destroyed, the villagers left, Varian’s dad is encased in amber in his lab and we can’t find him anywhere! We only found Ruddiger, and we all know, Varian doesn’t go anywhere without Ruddiger! Something bad must have happened to him. I just know it!”

“Hey, hey. Sunshine. Deep breaths.” Eugene reached for her hands and took them off his shoulders, grabbing them between his. “This is actually something we wanted to talk to you about-”

“How can I be calm, Eugene?! He came to me for help and I not only refused it, but left him alone for months! And now we can’t find him anywhere and I’m sure something must have happened to him!”

“Rapunzel, if you would just listen-.” The man tried again but was cut off by another wave of terrified thoughts.

“We searched the whole village. And his house. And even part of the forest. He is gone, Eugene! And I’m scared! So, so scared because I don’t know where he is and-” Rapunzel went on when suddenly it was Lance who cut her in.

“He’s in the dungeons!” The dark-skinned man squeaked anxiously, and suddenly the Princess went silent. She stared at Lance and then back at Eugene.

“Is… Is this true?” She asked, her eyes pleading. Please, say it’s not true. Please, say it’s not true.

Eugene sighed and looked down in sadness.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine, but Lance is right.” He said, looking up and into his girlfriend’s emerald eyes. “We’ve found him while checking the dungeons for damage after…” He waved his hand towards the black rocks. “He’s been locked on the deepest level, behind a sturdy wooden door. No light, no sound, small room.”

“Solitary confinement.” Cassandra muttered and Eugene nodded. That sounded just right.

“I- Rapunzel, I tried asking the Captain for the key. But he said…” He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. “He said it was an order from the King.”

“N-no. That’s impossible. Dad would never-” Rapunzel tried to argue, eyes wide in shock.

“Raps, solitary confinement is something only the King can approve of.” Cassandra spoke up.

“And, not that I like speaking bad about you dad, but… it doesn’t sound so unrealistic, knowing what else he did to protect you from those rocks.” Eugene added.

“How does imprisoning Varian agree with protecting me from the rocks?!” Princess shouted and the man took a small step back.

“I- I don’t know, but the kid was researching those rocks.” Eugene reminded, trying to sound calm. “Maybe he learned something that your dad didn’t like and.. you know… he took precautions?”

Rapunzel furrowed her brows, anger visible on her face.

“It seems me and dad need another talk about secrets.” She said with determination, stomping away and marching towards the castle.

~~~~~~

Varian hugged his knees closer to his chest. It was cold. His whole body was trembling, and he pulled himself closer, hoping to keep some of the body warmth.

He didn’t know what was going on. Several hours ago (at least he thought it was hours. He lost the track of time short after he was locked in, having nothing to help him calculate it) the whole castle shook tremendously, there were some crashing noises and screams. And then, everything fell into silence again.

Some more time passed and he heard people again, walking around the higher levels and talking silently. At some point he almost thought he heard someone enter the level he was in, people talking and someone saying his name. But when he looked up, he didn’t see anything and everything was silent again, so he decided he must have imagined it.

He sighed and let his head drop onto his knees. His stomach had long since stopped rumbling, the feeling of emptiness already gone. His food didn’t come for few days now, he deduced. They must have decided to starve him now. He didn’t really see a point anymore. It’s not like he could do anything, stuck in this cell.

Suddenly, he heard more voices, footsteps coming down the stairs, keys jingling. His heart stopped, thinking what it could possibly mean. Were they moving him somewhere else? It wasn’t food, there was a hatch at the bottom of the door for that, no need for keys. Or maybe the king finally decided on his fate (which probably didn’t mean anything good, seeing his treatment until now)?

The footsteps stopped in front of his door and he heard the key being pushed into the lock and turned. He froze completely, trying his best to hide in the deepest corner of the cell. The door opened with a deafening creak, showing how much time has passed since they were opened last time.

Several figures stood in the doorway and Varian pulled his legs closer, making himself as small as it was possible.

“Varian…?” A cautious voice called, the one he knew but didn’t hear for a long time. But it wasn’t possible? Why would she be here? She had no reason to-

The figure who spoke took one tentative step inside and Varian sucked in his breath, body completely frozen.

“Varian… it’s me. Rapunzel.” The figure, Rapunzel said, taking one more step forward. He stared at her with eyes wide open. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t-

“Why…?” He somehow managed to crack out, his voice raspy from all the months of silence. She stopped and kneeled down, only few steps in front of him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She whispered and he could see tears in her eyes. She was crying. Why was she crying? “I thought- I thought you were in Old Corona. That whatever happened during the snowstorm… that you didn’t come back before everything was fine.”

He stared at her, not sure how to respond. She had to be lying. But then, why would she? It was, after all, the king who ordered those masked men to hunt him, to treat him like a criminal, to, finally, lock him in this cell.

“I… Varian. I saw your dad.” Rapunzel continued and his eyes widened. Dad. He was still trapped. He had to save him. The Sundrop Flower. “I’m so sorry for what happened. I know I promised to help you, and I will.”

He looked up at her expectantly and she took it as a cue to continue.

“The black rocks… they were after me. They entered the capital yesterday, looking for me.” She said and Varian blinked. That explained the sounds he heard earlier. “They… when I touched them, they created a path. They are leading me somewhere. And I know, wherever that is, will help me find the way to get rid of them. And, I believe we can also find a way to free your father.”

“Why are you… telling me this?” His voice was still quiet and raspy.

“Because I want you to go with me, with us.” Rapunzel smiled. “I can’t make up for what my father did to you, Varian. But I can help you make better memories. And, we could probably use your skills and knowledge, wherever the rocks are taking us.” She extended a hand in his direction and smiled some more. “What do you say?”

Varian pondered about the thought before nodding and taking her hand. Her smile grew wider and she helped him to his feet, stabilising him as he wobbled. A ball of grey fur ran up to him and up his frame, to finally set on his shoulders.

“Hey bud, missed you.” He whispered, a small smile on his face. Rapunzel led him out and Eugene put a reassuring hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you looked up, okay kid?” He said with a smile. “You look like death itself.”

“Okay.” Varian nodded and let himself be guided out of the dungeons and into the sunlit corridors of the castle.

------

So, that’s it. That’s the end. I won’t continue the story, but you can imagine how it went. Hope you guys liked it.

#varian #silenced sequel #rapunzel #eugene #cassandra #lance #ruddiger #hurt/comfort #kitty mom writes

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since0202 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 29: Home

After a tearful goodbye with their mothers, Grace and Bella made their way to the ticket counter to check in for their flight.

“Oh, Miss Swan, Miss Alo, you’ve been upgraded to first class and instead of your original flight with two layovers, we were able to accommodate you with a direct flight. Here are your updated tickets and Amy here will show you the way to the VIP Lounge to wait for your flight.” The front desk attendant gave them a warm smile and motioned to the woman beside her.

Bella’s mouth was opening and closing like she meant to say something and Grace’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“Nice!” she exclaimed. “Finally, the perks of having a rich boyfriend are paying off.”

“Grace!” Bella nearly scolded as they followed the aforementioned Amy to the lounge.

“What? Might as well benefit from your line into Richville.”

“You sound like Jake.” Bella laughed taking a seat in the overstuffed chairs as a waiter handed them champagne. “Speaking of which,” she set her champagne down without taking a drink, unlike Grace or delightedly downed the first quarter glass in one swift chug, “Have you spoken to him?”

Grace shook her head aggressively, “Absolutely not.” Her mind wandered back to the last text message he had sent yesterday afternoon after they had returned from lunch on the water.

You can’t avoid me forever.

Oh, how true that was.

Bella rolled her eyes and Grace decided to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“And what about you? Should we start wedding planning the minute we get home then?”

“It was his one condition to have him turn me himself.” Bella shot back. Grace wasn’t expecting that.

“So you’re still on this whole immortal kick then?” Grace crossed her arms after popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

“I was never not on it. I know what I want,” Bella said determined.

“And I want a burrito, but it’s 7 in the morning.” Grace said with a little too much venom. She was starting to sound like Sam. Bella looked away from her, annoyed. Grace decided to call a truce, she wasn’t going to convince Bella not to become a member of the undead in an airport. “Can I at least see the ring?” she said more gently.

Bella looked over at her tentatively, thinking for a moment and then dug into her bag and pulled out an oversized ring box. Grace held her breath knowing it was going to be enormous. But she was pleasantly surprised.

When Bella revealed the ring to her, it was big, but the old fashioned and unique oval shape set with glittering diamonds was breathtaking and fit Bella so well.

“Holy fuck,” Grace said a little too loud. Bella snapped the case shut as they drew a look from an older man reading his newspaper a couple seats down from them. “Sorry, it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. I still..am a little nervous about all of this,” Bella wrung her hands above her and Grace gave her a soft smile.

“I know. But you love him so…” she trailed off, not sure what else there was to say.

Grace had never thought about marriage growing up. Her parents were incredibly happy loving people and she had the best model for marriage, but throughout her life, she never envisioned herself as married. Now a soft feeling turned over in her stomach where she held onto a new idea that was starting to bloom there. One that she saw blooming in Bella too. It might be nice to call someone yours forever.

Their flight landed early that afternoon and both girls were giddy when they got off of the plane. It was their first time flying first class and they were buzzing off the high of a catered meal and sparkling cider.

As they came out of the terminal to baggage claim, they saw Edward standing there, his face fitted with a perfectly stretched smile when he saw Bella.

Bella actually dropped her backpack and ran toward him and into his arms. Grace picked up her bag and slung it over her free shoulder and trudged toward them. As she approached them, Edward pulled his face out from behind her hair and said:

“I brought you a present.”

“A present?” Grace cocked her head to the side confused as Edward took Bella’s back from Grace’s shoulder.

Rachel Black came strolling from around the baggage claim with their suitcases. Grace’s heart dropped into her stomach. Son of a bitch. Grace inwardly cursed and sucked in a quick breath. Was this Edward’s idea of some kind of a sick joke?

“Hey!” she said, trying to sound cheerful and shoving her hands in her back pockets. Edward saw the look of disappointment cross Grace’s face and suddenly felt like he’d made a mistake. Bella looked at Grace worriedly.

“Hey little Alo,” Rachel said, that same twinkling smile on her face. Seeing Rachel made her feel slightly sick which frustrated her even more. A dumb imprint, that Rachel wasn’t even in control of, was going to make her suddenly dislike a person she’d known almost her whole life? “I got to be honest with you, I’m not here just for me.”

Grace was confused and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been sent to take you to see your new home,” Rachel rolled her eyes but let out a little laugh. “Well, I think the exact instructions were to take you to my brother first and then the house second, but tomato, tomato.” She shrugged and Grace found herself fighting a smile. Same old Rachel, warm, but still took no shit.

“I hope that’s alright,” Edward said from the sidelines. “We’ll drop you off at your place.”

Rachel nodded and Grace let out a big sigh holding her arms out at her sides in a wide shrug.

“Why not.”

Edward was able to drive Grace right up to her home since technically it wasn’t on the original treaty line that they had agreed to so many years ago. Tensions between the pack and the Cullens had ebbed slightly since the fight, so Sam was a little more lenient about where they could come on their land.

Grace, however, was completely floored when they pulled up. The old, falling down house had been given a facelift in her absence. A new thatched roof adorned the top of the house and a second level had been installed. A large circular window looked out toward the cove. Where the sagging porch had been a new one was installed that wrapped around the front of sides of the home. Tools were still scattered about and it was still being installed in some areas. They had painted her front door a dark mossy green and when Grace pushed it open, she thought she might faint.

The interior of the home was completely refinished. A small kitchen looked out over her spacious living room that Esme had expertly decorated to match her rustic, simple style. Her bedroom was on the second floor in the large loft that looked out over the cove and the back bedroom was converted into a pseudo indoor greenhouse with a desk and comfy, plush chairs. One wall was dedicated to an entire bookshelf that held an assorted collection of books.

Grace dropped her backpack in the back room and turned to Edward who was standing in her doorway. “This is incredible, thank you so much.” she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“It’s the least we could do, considering everything you’ve done from my family and Bella.” Edward said softly before nodding and taking his leave. Bella gave her a hug before she left and said “Tell me how it goes with Jake” before joining Edward.

Rachel was sitting in the new living room waiting for Grace. “Sooo, what do you think?”

“It’s incredible,” Grace said plopping down on the soft linen sofa. “It’s too much but it’s incredible.”

“Naaah, you deserve this.” Rachel steadied Grace with a look and she shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I wanted to ask you….” here it comes “About the whole Paul thing.”

Grace felt an awful pang in her stomach rise up. No, not now.

“What about Paul?” Grace said nonchalantly and Rachel tilted her head knowingly at her.

“Don’t act like that, I know you.” Grace gave out a huff. “Sam said you two were pretty serious...before I showed up.” Rachel looked at her fingernails now not wanting to meet Grace’s gaze. Grace looked her over carefully trying to see what she was getting at.

“Yeah, we were together, so?”

“Don’t say ‘so’ like that. I’m asking if you’re okay.”

“Rach, what do you want me to say? Yes? Totally fine? Don’t think about him at all at night? Because that’s not the truth.” Grace looked over her shoulder out the open front door toward the cove. She wanted to disappear in this moment.

“I just...I know I screwed everything up, but I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even know.” Rachel looked at her now. Tears were welling up in Grace’s eyes. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket but momentarily ignored it.

“Why are you bringing all this up again? Are you and Paul going out or something?” she looked at Rachel now with a hurt, scornful look. She didn’t want to know the answer but she also couldn’t shy away from it now that Rachel was trying to gauge her reaction.

Rachel didn’t respond for awhile and picked at the skin on the tips of her finger. Grace watched her carefully and then nodded, “Right…” It was clear what Rachel was after now. Grace pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at her most recent text message.

SMS Text—4:33 p.m.: Jake

Did you make it home okay?

Rach was supposed to bring you by an hour ago.

I need to talk to you.

Grace considered not responding, hightailing it out of there and swimming as far out into the ocean as her body would allow, but she didn’t want to be alone in this new pain that was becoming clear now that Rachel clearly wanted Paul. She typed a hasty reply.

I’m home, at the new place.

Come over.

“Grace?” Rachel said looking at her now with a sad look on her face. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. You know how much you mean to me but I...the imprint makes it hard for me to…”

“Are you asking for my permission or something? Or my blessing?”

“No, I….” she took one look at Grace and switched topics suddenly, “What’s going on with you and my brother?”

Oh, so she wanted to play it like this? Grace was game. She stood up and walked over to her kitchen to pull down a green glass water cup and filled it with cold water from the sink. She took a drink and then turned to look at Rachel.

“Not the same thing that was going on with Paul if that’s what you’re asking.” Rachel winced and Grace immediately felt guilty.

“Grace, I’m….I’m so sorry,” her voice piqued with emotion and Grace felt immediately drawn to her. “I don’t know what to do here. Help me.” her eyes were pleading but Grace couldn’t find the words to make either of them feel better at the moment.

“You should go,” Grace said in a hard voice, Rachel’s face changed to one of disappointment, anger even, “Jake’s coming and if you don’t want to get your head bit off, then it’s best to head off now. So…” Grace trailed off refilling her water and staying away from Rachel.

She got to her feet and nodded, walking out the front door and heading off into the forest. Grace let out a frustrated groan as she wrapped her arm protectively around her stomach where the pain was still pulsing. She definitely didn’t expect Rachel to turn up at the airport and what’s more, she was not prepared to have a conversation about her and Paul dating. Grace knew the imprint was in play but it still hurt to think of Paul moving on so quickly. As she gripped the countertop and tried to hold herself together, a familiar voice echoed across the room as Jake made his way through the open door, shirtless and in his cut off jeans.

“Hey, you okay?” He was in front of her in an instant, his hands cupped under her cheeks and pulling her face up to look at her. Grace felt a calloused thumb move gently across her cheek and she took in a deep breath, letting her arm fall as she stood up straight. She grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down off of her face in one movement.

“Yeah, fine.” She moved past him to go sit on the porch steps, suddenly needing a dose of fresh air. Jake tensed from the ease at which she pulled away and followed her shortly after.

He lowered himself down next to her on the front steps and watched her face for a second before looking out into the cove. “What did Rachel say?”

“It’s bullshit, Jake,” Grace let it out, “This imprint is the cruelest thing in the world. Because no one gets a choice. Why? Why do that to us when we already have so much to deal with? I don’t….” she choked a little, trying to swallow a sob. “I hope it never happens to me. I want a choice.”

Jake listened patiently and nodded his head, “I hear you.”

“Just...promise me something,” she looked at him seriously now and Jacob trained his eyes on her, even with her face red and puffy, lips parted, and hair flying around her, he thought she was beautiful. He desperately wanted to raise a hand to graze her cheek or pull her into him and kiss the top of her head until he felt her breath even out.

“Anything,” he said seriously.

“Promise me that when it happens to you, you’ll still be the same.” Her eyes were swimming with hurt just thinking about Jake being pulled away from her in any way. But still, she pushed down that ache in hopes of keeping herself whole.

“I promise, Grace. I won’t let you down.” His voice was soft, calm, and reassuring. The tension in her face melted right away when he looked at her like that and Jake knew that whatever she asked him, he would do.

She leaned her body against his, resting her head on his shoulder and he let out a sigh of relief.

“These last four days without you were not my best,” he admitted suddenly.

“What do you mean?” she mumbled, listening intently to the crash and roll of the sea.

“When you left, something in me stopped working. I felt….irritated. Like I was being pulled in a million different directions and I couldn’t sit still. Sam had to send me on rounds by myself a couple of nights because no one could stand to be around me and I don’t blame them.”

“That’s weird,” Grace said distractedly.

“Yeah….weird,” Jake said softly. Grace wrapped her arms around his bicep and scooted into him more.

“Are you hungry?”

Jake let out a laugh, “Always.”

They spent the evening prepping and cooking vegetables and chicken for burritos in Grace’s kitchen. Esme, delightfully, had stocked a part of Grace’s closet with extra men’s t-shirts and jeans for the pack in case they had ever phased nearby or needed something to change into. It was incredibly thoughtful and Grace hugged the black t-shirt to her body before coming down the stairs and tossing it at Jake. He laughed and eagerly put it on, returning to his chopping of the onions while Grace watched a pan of sizzling chicken breasts.

When she came over to supervise she gave out a short laugh.

“No, no Jacob. Diced, we need diced onions.”

“These are diced!” he protested. She pushed in front of him and gently took the knife from his hand to demonstrate.

“Slice this way, and then this way,” He was standing very close behind her and was looking around her. As Grace delicately chopped the onion, Jacob raised two tentative fingers and brushed back a swath of dark black hair that had fallen in front of her face. His fingertips gently brushed the side of her neck as he stroked the hair back behind her shoulder and peered from behind her to take in her work. Grace shivered, goosebumps rising on her neck and she suddenly felt very hot and very aware of his presence.

“Like that, okay?” she said, handing him the knife back. He gave her a mischievous smile and nodded.

“Got it.”

They worked easily together, each reaching around the other for things, making jokes and laughing at something the other said. They opted to eat on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket and flipping on a movie to pass the time as the sun set. Jacob didn’t ask her once about the phone call and Grace was grateful.

Having Jake in the house made her whole body feel warm and in the back of her mind, she started dreading the time when he’d get up and leave. They talked late into the night, Grace laying her legs over Jake’s lap as she reclined on the couch.

She shared how good it was to see her mom, how she wanted her to see this place and know that she really was okay, so that she wouldn’t worry about her future. Jacob listened dutifully, his eyes always patient, kind, and open as she opened up about her fears and her dreams. He absently moved his hand up and down her thigh, pausing only when he was telling a story about his most recent night of rounds to emphatically show how he wanted to strangle Embry for something he said. Grace laughed at this and revelled at the sensation of warmth when he placed his hand back on her thigh. As the night wore on, they each drifted off to sleep peacefully on the couch.

Grace woke some time in the night to see Jake still there, his head leaning back against the couch and snoring softly. She gently picked her legs up off of him and strode to close her front door and turn off the lights. Then she gently leaned over him and placed a hand on his arm.

“Jacob.” she whispered and his eyes slowly opened looking around at the darkened room. “Come on.” she said running her hand down his arm and taking his hand. He yawned and stood as she guided him through the living room and up the stairs to her room. Once in her room, she let go of his hand and strode into her closet to change into some soft pajama shorts and a thin linen tank top. When she returned, Jake was taking off his shirt and folding his jean shorts, setting them on a chair in the corner of her room.

Grace crawled into bed and Jake nestled in beside her. Easily, they meshed into one another, Grace cuddling up into his left side, arm slung over his chest and head on his shoulder. Jacob wrapped an arm down her back and rested his hand on her waist, under her shirt to feel her skin on his. The moonlight filtered in above the bed and they fell back asleep almost instantly.

Grace didn’t know what it meant to have him here beside her just yet but she knew that she didn’t want him to leave. She had never felt so at peace before and decided as she drifted off that whatever awkwardness happened in the morning, she’d take it if it meant she could have this moment with him. She felt him lean over to kiss the top of her head before she let the sound of the waves and the rise and fall of his warm breath pull her into a deep sleep.

#twilight fanfiction #Twilight FanFic #twilight #new moon #eclipse #jacobblackxoc #jacob black #jacobxoc #paul lahote #bella swan #edward cullen #the cullens #The Pack #chapter 29 #a monster lives here

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

Le Paon Part 8

(Hey, guys! Here’s another chapter of the Le Paon AU. I’m going to try to update this every two weeks now- since weekly updates were a mess for me. Please tell me what you think, and if you want to keep reading!)

Part 1 / Part 7 / Part 9

“‘Change tactics’? What do you mean?” Felix asked, sparing Nathalie a glance. She seemed to be in a bitter mood that evening, more so than usual.

“Just that.” Gabriel said, regaining his attention. “Ladybug is too cunning to challenge her head on. We must come up with another strategy. One that under-goes her suspicions and exploits her weaknesses.”

Felix frowned. Does Ladybug even have a weakness?

“What do you suggest?”

His Father smiled, and he resisted the urge to flinch.

“I’m glad you asked.” Gabriel all but purred. “Ladybug, should she activate her Lucky Charm, has a five minute time span before she detransforms. Normally she runs off to hide before that happens, but if you were to follow her long enough..”

“I could discover her identity.” Felix finished.

“Exactly. Knowing Ladybug’s identity would surely give us the advantage.”

Felix nodded. They could practically waltz into Ladybug’s house and take her miraculous if they knew who she was, and once Ladybug was defeated, Chat Noir wouldn’t be far behind.

Speaking of the Alley Cat..

“How do we get past Chat Noir? I imagine he won’t just let me run off after Ladybug.” He questioned.

Gabriel hummed. “You’ll just have to be subtle, then, won’t you?”

Felix held back a scoff. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Obviously, Father hadn’t thought through this plan completely.

Nevertheless, Chat Noir would merely act as a bump in the road. He was certain he could find a way around that furball.

“Yes, sir.” Felix said. “I’ll find out her identity as soon as I can.”

“The sooner the better.” Gabriel remarked, before gesturing for him to leave.

Felix moved to exit the room, but Gabriel spoke again as he opened the door. Something about his tone sent a chill through Felix’s bones, and whether the words were meant to be supportive or not, Felix found himself speed-walking to his room after the door closed.

“I know you won’t disappoint me.”

~~~~~~

Marinette held her breath, trying to keep steady. Still, the needle trembled between her fingers. She tisked in annoyance. One would think that keeping their hands steady during sowing would get easier after years of practice.

Easy.. She told herself, her tongue slowly slipping past her lips as she tried to concentrate. Just a bit more to the left and-

“Ugh!”

Marinette flinched, causing the needle to poke through the fabric and prick her finger. She hissed, pulling the needle away from her dress and sticking her injured finger into her mouth.

“Oh, sorry Marinette.” Allegra apologized, sparing her a guilty glance. “I just can’t believe I missed that epic ice fight yesterday! It would have put my blog’s ratings through the roof!”

“But your ratings are already booming.” Marinette pointed out, wiping her finger on a handkerchief. “Didn’t you get a picture of Ladybug saving Le Paon?”

“Yeah, through frosted glass.” Allegra sighed. “People could easily call it a hoax.. And you’re sure you didn’t get any pictures either?”

Marinette shook her head. “We got stuck in the ice rink when the frost hit.”

Allegra rose a brow. “‘We’?”

“Oh, yeah. Alya and I went together, and she invited the Agrestes.” Marinette replied, not thinking much of it.

She didn’t notice the coy smile that curled onto Allegra’s lips.

“Felix was there?”

Marinette nodded, feeling a bit of heat come to her cheeks at the thought of him. By the time they finished ice skating yesterday, Felix and Marinette had practically been hugging each other. It wasn’t until Alya started taking pictures that she actually let go. The fact that she didn’t want to step away from him only worried Marinette more. What if she really did have feelings for Felix? He seemed to enjoy spending time with her, but did she honestly have a chance when it came to love? Marinette was a baker girl, and Felix was the heir to an enormous fashion company. He probably had girls lining up for his affections just like Adrien did, girls who were far prettier than her and a much better fit for someone like him. No, she and Felix could never be together in a romantic sense. Despite what Alya thought, some people just worked better as friends than lovers. This was obviously one of those times.

“Mari, I’ve been thinking..” Allegra spoke again, pulling Marinette from her thoughts. “Why don’t we plan a study date together? I know this really good cafe that serves the best lattes-”

Marinette perked up at the mention of lattes. She loved those heavenly drinks.

“-and it’ll help me be a little more productive while we talk about ‘Birds of a Feather’.”

“I don’t see why not.” She shrugged, sticking her needle into her pin cushion. “Would Saturday work for you?”

Allegra smiled. “Perfect! We can meet at the Laduree cafe around noon for lunch?”

Marinette stood up. “Can you do four? I need to help out in the bakery first.”

“Four’s good.”

“Great! I need to get going now, if you don’t mind. The suns going down, and I was hoping I could get some sketching in today.”

“Oh, sure, but why do you need to go outside to sketch?” Allegra asked, slipping her purse over her shoulder.

“It helps keep my inspiration flowing.” Marinette shrugged. She then scooped her sketch pencils and erasure into her “art bag” and shook her bag around so she could fit her sketchbook inside as well.

“Huh.. that makes sense. I’ll see you tomorrow at school then!” Allegra said with a wave before flipping open the trap door.

Marinette returned her wave with a smile and took a few extra minutes getting the last of her things together before following her friend down the ladder.

“Maman, I’m going out to sketch!” She called over her shoulder as she passed the cash register.

“Alright, sweetie! Be back in time for supper!” Sabine called back from the kitchen.

Another wave to Allegra, and she was out the door, strolling down the sidewalk and thinking up a few designs to start when she got to her favorite sketching spot. Hopefully it would take her mind off of the whole Felix business.

~~~~~~

“Alright, a little to left!”

Adrien moved to the left as told, trying to hold his pose while doing so.

The cameraman frowned and shook his head. “No, no, show me a smile! A smile! Surely you can do better than that, Monsieur Agreste.”

Felix rolled his eyes as Adrien’s smile widened. He was trying too hard to look happy. Of course, Felix wouldn’t be happy either if he had to do multiple photo shoots two days in a row. Maybe he should look up some of the child labor laws in France. This much work on a fourteen year old couldn’t possibly be legal.

The photographer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, something is still missing! Let’s change the scenery. Maybe that will get your sparkle back.”

As soon as the camera was off of him, Adrien’s shoulders sagged. He looked exhausted.

“You know, I could always have Father rearrange your schedule for rest.” Felix offered, extending his cup of coffee to him.

Adrien refused the drink, but gave a half smile at the thought of an easier schedule. “Thanks, but you know he’d never agree to that. If I start complaining, he might pull me out of school.”

“It’s not complaining. It’s called ‘Mental health’.” Felix replied, taking a sip of the coffee himself.

“He’ll still pull me out of school.”

“Come! Come!” The photographer interrupted, gesturing for the boys to follow him. “We must hurry if we are going to finish!”

Reluctantly, Felix and Adrien climbed into their car, where they were driven to another park across town.

The Trocadero Gardens. Felix had seen it before in passing, but he’d never visited the park for some reason. Maybe he’d just been too preoccupied with his books.

The car rolled to a stop, and the boys barely had time to unbuckle before being ushered out of the car.

“No time to waste!” The photographer stressed as he set up his camera again.

Felix sent the photographer a glare. This guy was literally getting paid by the hour. What was he rushing for?

Adrien- good little doormat that he was -walked over to stand in front of the fountain as the photographer instructed.

Felix opted to wander around the park instead. Why watch your little brother waste away in the model industry when you can enjoy a nice afternoon at a new park? It seemed like a waste to stay put, if you asked him.

The park wasn’t all that large, but he found it refreshing anyway. There was a mother taking her baby for a walk in a stroller, a man taking his dog for a walk, and another man who appeared to be feeding pigeons. Felix didn’t recall that being allowed there.

Oh, there’s even an artist here. He thought, seeing a young girl on the concrete steps across from the fountain. She held a pink notebook in her lap, and appeared to be very engrossed in what she was doing as she scribbled across the page. Her tongue was sticking out and everything. The only other person he knew that did that was..

Wait.

“..Marinette?” He said, a bit hesitant at first. When she looked up, though, Felix had no trouble walking over to her.

“Felix? What are you doing here?” She asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Felix smirked. This girl was too adorable.

“Adrien is having a photo shoot.” He answered, gesturing behind him to the cameraman. “You look busy. Should I leave you to your work?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s- um -I’m just working on some sketches, so..” Marinette stuttered, fiddling with the edges of her notebook.

Felix nodded and mouthed an “ah”.

“Do you mind if I..” He trailed off, motioning towards the spot on the stairs next to her.

Marinette straightened. “Oh! No, of course not. Please.”

“So what are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” Felix asked as he sat down.

A smile graced her lips. “Not at all. I wasn’t working on anything specific. Just a few things that popped into my head.”

She tilted the notebook, and Felix leaned closer so he could get a proper view. The first sketch on the left was what looked to be a thin, transparent dress clipped around a solid sheath dress. The picture was only half-way colored, but he could tell she was aiming for a colorful creation. The transparent fabric would be a brilliant rainbow color lined with silver, and the sheath dress would be a deep shade of red to compliment it. The second sketch on the right looked just as promising, though it wasn’t colored yet. It was a casual outfit: Jeans, high-heeled ankle boots, and a blouse with vertical stripes and bell sleeves.

“They look wonderful.” He commented, lightly touching the edge of the page. “I can’t wait to see them in a fashion show.”

Marinette pulled the notebook away. “Oh, I don’t know about a show. I mean, I love designing, but these are just doodles, really.”

Felix couldn’t help giving a soft smile. Sometimes it was hard to tell if Marinette was just too humble or too insecure. Maybe a little bit of both.

“You should come over again sometime.” He hadn’t meant to say out loud, in all honesty, but he certainly wasn’t going to take it back now that he had. Felix rather enjoyed her last visit, more so than he would ever admit out loud.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” He added, suddenly getting the urge to look at the ground instead of her. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to talk with him personally, but I’m sure Father would love to see more of your work.”

Marinette smiled bashfully. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

Felix let out a breath, relieved. “You don’t have to thank me. With talent like that, you were bound to be noticed eventually, whether I introduced you to Father or not.”

An adorable blush bloomed across her freckled cheeks as she turned back to her notebook. How can something so small make him feel so light?

“Woah, Marinette! You’re here too?”

The moment was interrupted by none other than Adrien, who either just finished his shoot or convinced the photographer to let him take a break. Judging by his outfit- the usual black shirt and white jacket with jeans -Felix was going to guess the former.

“Oh, hi, Adrien!” Marinette greeted brightly. “I just came here to get some sketching done. How was your shoot?”

“It was fine.” Adrien replied, leaning over her to get a glimpse of the pages. “Those drawings look awesome! I wish I was that talented.”

Marinette flushed again and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “T-Thanks, but it’s really just practice..”

Adrien chuckled. “Believe me, Mari, I could practice for years and not be able to come up with those designs.”

“I can’t say I disagree.” Felix spoke up.

He learned too late that that was a mistake.

Adrien turned his gaze to Felix, a predatory-like smile coming to his lips. “No, I’m sure you can’t. How did you two run into each other, again?”

Felix held back a glare. Barely. “If you must know, I stumbled upon her by chance while roaming the park”

Adrien hummed. “‘By chance while roaming the park’.. I guess that’s convincing enough.”

Felix scoffed, but Marinette giggled.

“Marinette, it was nice seeing you, but we should probably get going. If the shoot is over, Gorilla should be in the car waiting for us.” Felix said, getting to his feet. Better to leave now than let Adrien keep babbling nonsense.

“You’re not going to try to stall to see her longer?” Adrien asked, thankfully in a lower tone this time. Felix nudged him in the side in retaliation. That boy was just begging to be locked out of the mansion later.

The two waved goodbye to Marinette, and Felix made sure to hold Adrien with an iron grip as they made their way back to the car.

“Have you no shame? She’s going to think that we’re complete idiots. At the most, you’ll make her extremely uncomfortable.” Felix scolded.

Adrien laughed. “Relax, Fe. Marinette obviously doesn’t mind. She even laughed!”

Felix tisked, though he couldn’t deny it. Marinette did laugh.. But that didn’t necessarily mean she enjoyed his implications. He wasn’t sure what it meant. Did she like him back? Was this her way of hinting that Adrien was right? Or was she just being polite as usual?

He shook his head. What was he thinking! He didn’t even feel that way towards Marinette! Or.. he wasn’t supposed to. Argh! Adrien’s teasing is starting to get into his head.

“Hey, look on the bright side.” Adrien said, noticing his brother’s annoyance. “I’m sure she thinks you look cute when you’re angry.”

“Shut up.”

~~~~~~

Claude hummed a little tune as he walked into the classroom. It wasn’t everyday that he got to class early, but this was a special request via Allegra. And when Allegra asks you to do something, you do it.

He sat down at his assigned desk, paying no mind to the classmate or two that walked in after him, and took his tablet out of his bag. After turning it on, he pulled out another textbook, placing it neatly next to the tablet. A simple set-up, but it should do. Now all Claude had to do was play the part.

The bell rang through the halls, prompting more students to file into the classrooms. Felix came stalking in not a minute later, the exact time Allegra said he would.

Showtime.

Claude groaned as loud as he could and dramatically flopped onto the desk. “Oh, it’s hopeless! It’s all just hopeless!”

He heard Felix sigh.

“What’s your problem now?” The blonde asked tiredly, moving Claude’s arm to the side as he sat down. Not as much sympathy as he was hoping for, but- hey -it was Felix. What did he expect?

Claude rolled to the side, letting his head fall on Felix’s shoulder and throwing his arm over his face. “It’s Chemistry. I just can’t understand any of it! No matter how hard I try, or how much I study, the formulas make no sense! I’m going to fail this class.”

Felix tisked towards his wailing and moved over, causing Claude to fall back onto the bench. “Maybe you should try paying attention in class.”

Claude rubbed the back of his head with a pout. This guy really was heartless. How did Marinette get him to be so nice?

“I do pay attention. It doesn’t help. You’re a straight-A student. How do you do it?” He continued as he sat back up.

Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s not hard. Just listen, take notes, and do the reading. Simple.”

“Felix~.” Claude whined, falling back onto him again.

As Felix started pushing him off, Claude noticed Allegra and Allan walking in. Allegra caught his eye briefly and gave him a subtle yet satisfied smirk.

Claude gasped, abruptly straightening in his seat. He needed to finish this soon or class was going to start.

“Hey, I know! You can tutor me!” He exclaimed, as if he’d just been given an epiphany.

“Absolutely not.” Felix replied flatly.

“Aw, come on, Fe.” Claude pleaded, even batting his eyelashes. “It’ll just be one little study session! All you have to do is check my work and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Felix glared. “I said no. Why don’t you have Allegra help you?”

Allegra tilted her head back to look at them from her assigned seat. “Can’t. I’m busy tomorrow.”

“Who said anything about tomorrow? Study with him another day.” Felix said, pulling his tablet out of his bag.

“Oh, don’t be so cold.” Claude frowned. “What if I take you to your favorite coffee shop?”

Felix paused. “The Laduree cafe?”

Claude perked up. “Yep! You can get anything you want, and all you have to do is explain a few simple terms to me.”

“Or I could just go by myself.”

Claude scoffed. “Just take the deal, please.”

Felix gave him a skeptical look. That was a good sign, right?

“Fine.” He finally relented. “When do you want to study?”

Yes!

“Tomorrow’s good. Say around..” He trailed off, glancing at Allegra. “Noon?”

Allegra shook her head and held up four fingers.

“Er- four. I meant four. Let’s meet up at four tomorrow.”

“Mhm. Sure. Just don’t be late.” Felix replied, already going back to his books.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Claude assured as the last bell rang. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Felix didn’t respond, but if he would’ve bothered to look up, he would have caught Claude and Allegra giving each other a quiet high five.

Mission accomplished.

This was going to be fun.

~~~~~~

Marinette slid into the booth and set her backpack against the wall. She then brushed off the bits of flour sticking to her sleeve. Even after changing, the powdery substance still managed to infect her second outfit. At least it was one of the smaller bags that she dropped this time. How can she save an entire city as Ladybug, but not be able to make a simple batch of cookies without wrecking the kitchen as Marinette? Sometimes she wondered why her parents had her help in the bakery at all, if you can call that helping.

“Thanks for meeting with me today, Marinette.” Allegra said, putting one of her textbooks on the table.

Marinette smiled. “Of course. A study date is definitely something I need, and I always enjoy our time together.”

Allegra put a hand to her chest. “Aw, so do I! What do you want to do first? Study or talk about ‘Birds of a Feather’?”

Marinette glanced down at her backpack in thought. They had a test coming up next week, so they definitely needed to study at some point. If they did, though, she’d want it to be fresh in her mind.

“Mm, let’s talk about the blog first.” She decided.

“Perfect!” Allegra beamed, pulling the app up on her phone. “There hasn’t been an akuma for three days. That means that one is bound to show up soon, since Hawkmoth doesn’t normally wait a whole month for akumas.”

Marinette nodded, genuinely impressed. Allegra’s reports were always so detailed. It didn’t surprise her that Alya was threatened by the competition.

“Like I expected, people are claiming fraud on my pictures. I think the few pics Alya got for her blog are the only reason I’m not being swarmed by haters. We need to get a lot of good pictures during this next battle or I’m going to start losing followers.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

Allegra pressed a few buttons on her phone, before flipping the device for Marinette to see the screen. Multiple videos were splayed across the screen, each showing a different area of the city.

“We’re always having trouble getting the footage because we have to run around the city, right? Well, the way I see it is: why bother racing around to get one, blurry photo when we have all the cameras we need already?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “Are those.. Security cameras? How did you get access to these?”

Allegra pulled the phone back, a smug expression making its way onto her features. “Let’s just say I borrowed the little tech genius from your class.”

“Max?” Why would he agree to help with something like that? Tampering with the camera systems was illegal!

“Allegra, I’m not sure about this.” Marinette said. Not only could they get in serious, legal trouble for this, giving Allegra access to the city’s security cameras could also jeopardize her identity. What if she landed in the wrong alleyway, and Allegra caught her detransforming on tape? What if she already had?

“But it’s such a good idea!” Allegra tried to persuade her. “With these, we’ll be able to catch tons of video footage for Le Paon without lifting a finger!”

Marinette sighed. “This isn’t right. What if the government found out? Mayor Bourgeois would be furious. How long have you been doing this?”

Disappointment flicked across Allegra’s expression, but she turned the cameras off. “Only since this morning. I thought it was a good idea, too.”

Marinette slumped back into her booth seat, feeling the rush of relief.

“So, no on the security cameras.” Allegra concluded, setting her phone on the table dejectedly. “I guess we’ll just have to keep getting as many pictures of him as we can.”

Marinette hummed. Security Cameras definitely weren't an option, but they couldn’t run around Paris like they had been, either. Something needed to change..

“What if we made a tag.” She suggested. “Like an akuma or Le Paon tag. That way, when someone saw Le Paon or an akuma, they would tag us.”

And Ladybug and Chat Noir will get more warnings before an attack.

Allegra brightened. “Oh yeah! That’s pretty close to security cameras. Maybe other people can get pictures for us too.”

Marinette nodded and started typing out the ideas on a memo from her phone. She didn’t want to forget what the tag names would be.

They started brainstorming what names to use, but the two only got a few names in when a gasp interrupted them.

“Woah! What are you guys doing here?”

It was Claude, and he seemed extremely enthusiastic about seeing them for some reason.

“Are you guys studying? What a coincidence! We are too!” He exclaimed as he reached behind him and pulled someone else forward.

Marinette’s eyes widened, recognizing them immediately.

Felix glowered at Claude, until his eyes landed on Marinette. She felt her heart rate pick up as they stared at each other. First, the park, and now, the cafe? Why was she suddenly seeing him everywhere? It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but..

“Wow! What are the odds?” Allegra said, bringing Marinette from her thoughts. “Since we’re all here, why don’t you guys study with us?”

“Wha-?”

“Oh no, we couldn’t.” Claude replied, though he was already sitting down next to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course we’re sure! Aren’t we, Marinette?”

Marinette faltered at the sudden question. They both looked so expectant and eager. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest. She glanced at Felix, who seemed equally astonished- and a little annoyed, but she was told that he always looked that way.

“Uh.. sure. You guys can sit with us.” She finally answered.

“Thanks, Mari, you’re the best.” Claude remarked as he reached for one of the menus.

Felix remained standing, apparently indecisive about what to do.

“Take a seat, Felix.” Allegra prompted, flashing him a sharp smile. “It’s rude to linger.”

His lips twitched in a scowl, but he sat down as he was told. Why was he so upset? It wasn’t because of her, was it?

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to sit with us.” Marinette assured, trying to sound as understanding as possible.

Felix met her eyes again at the comment, and his expression softened.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Claude grinned. “Now we can all study together.”

Marinette smiled for Claude’s sake, even though she still felt nervous on Felix’s behalf.

Everyone got out their respective books- Chemistry, History, and English -and started studying. Felix grumbled a few pointers to Claude, who wrote them down with an all-too-pleased expression. Allegra would occasionally ask Marinette to check her work, and, in turn, Marinette would ask Allegra to quiz her on a few terms. A waiter came by with their drinks not long after. Marinette made sure to set a sweet aside for Tikki.

“So how’d you guys end up here?” Marinette asked as she sipped on her latte, simply making polite conversation.

Claude, of course, was the first to answer. “I bribed Felix into tutoring me by bringing him to his favorite coffee shop.”

“Oh, this is your favorite coffee shop?”

Felix nodded. “It’s close to the library that I fancy. The Cappuccinos aren’t bad either.”

Marinette hummed. “I wouldn’t know. I prefer lattes, myself.”

“Would you like to try it?” He offered, gently pushing the cup towards her.

Marinette took the cup with a “thanks” and carefully brought the hot drink to her lips. The boldness of the coffee taste threw her at first, though she couldn’t say that she disliked it. A hint of sweetness caught her attention too, despite the liquid being mostly bitter. It’s not something she would usually order, but overall..

“Not bad.” She decided, pushing the cup back over to Felix.

Felix gave a small smile as he pulled it back. “Told you it wouldn’t be.”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll have to get one next time I come.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you here. Then I can get your latte.” He replied lightheartedly.

Marinette smiled, fighting down another blush. At least she knew that she wasn’t the reason for his discomfort.

“I’d like that.”

~~~~~~

Felix slipped his books into his bag and tucked his pen and pencil into their respective pockets on the side. The fact that he stayed here for three whole hours with those hooligans should be considered an accomplishment. He swung his bag over his shoulder, looking out the window for his car as he did. With all of the street lights, it was almost hard to tell that the sun had already set. The slim line of dark blue above the building across the street was his only confirmation of the night’s presence.

He glanced down at Marinette, who was now curled up on her booth seat, head tucked in her arms on the table, fast asleep. She’d lulled off around ten minutes ago, which is why they decided it was time to leave in the first place.

“Don’t stare too hard.” Claude smirked.

“I can take a picture for you if you want.” Allegra teased.

Felix shot them a glare, his irritation from earlier resurfacing in his mind. “Don’t patronize me. What the heck was this, anyway?”

Allegra smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t act like you two didn’t set this whole thing up!” Felix snapped.

“Now, now, let’s not get riled up. We wouldn’t want to wake sweet Marinette.” Claude said in a hushed tone.

As if on queue, the ravenette let out a yawn, before cuddling back into her crossed arms.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Allegra commented as she picked up her book bag. “You two had a good time.”

“You even got an indirect kiss.” Claude remarked.

Felix flushed. “Wha-”

“And you got a second date.” Allegra added.

His blush deepened. “Date? Second? What are you two even talking about?”

The pair snickered.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.” Claude sang as he nudged Felix in the shoulder.

Felix scoffed and went to retort when Allegra spoke again.

“Welp! We’d better get going. Be a dear and make sure Marinette gets home safe, will you?”

How she wormed her way around him, he’ll never know, but Allegra and Claude were out the door before he could even refuse the request. It’s not that he minded taking Marinette home. It’s more of that he’d just about had enough of those two meddling in his personal affairs. Didn’t they have anything better to do with their lives?

Probably not. He thought, moving to Marinette’s side so he could wake her up. She heaved a sigh, blowing a bit of her bangs to the side as she did. She looked so peaceful. So delicate. It made him want to let her sleep forever.

Felix brushed a strand of her hair to the side, lightly tucking it behind her ear so it didn’t bother her. Round, black earrings gleamed under the cafe’s lights. They were a bit plain for a fashion designer. Maybe they were special to her somehow.

“Mari.” He said softly, giving her shoulder a small push. “It’s time to wake up. I need to take you home.”

Marinette hummed and shifted on the booth. “Mm.. yes, Le Paon, you should go home.. Come back tomorrow, though”

Felix reeled back, heat rushing to his cheeks. Did he hear that right? Was she.. was she dreaming about him? (Or, dreaming about Le Paon.) Either way, it sounded like she wanted his alter ego to come visit again.

He shook his head, and nudged her a second time. Now was not the time for bashfulness.

After a few tries, she finally woke up enough for him to walk her outside. By then, Gorilla was already out there and waiting for him in the car. He opened the car door for Marinette, then walked around to his side once she was settled in.

“Take us to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, please.”

Gorilla nodded and pulled onto the street. Felix leaned back in his seat, still thinking about what Marinette had said. Granted, she’d said it in a dream-induced state, but that just meant she dreamt about him, right? To dream about something, you’d have to think about it often. How much does she think about Le Paon? About him?

A light weight sunk into his shoulder, effectively cutting off his thoughts and seizing his heart. He didn’t have to look down to know what it was. Marinette. She was sleeping. On his shoulder. She must have forgotten to fasten her seat belt. When did she move so close to him? Should he wake her up? That would be the polite thing to do..

Felix shook her shoulder slightly, but she only snuggled further into his arm. He was about to shake her again, when he paused. She looked so cute, and the way she leaned on him felt.. Nice. He didn’t want to wake her up. He.. he liked it.

Oh gosh, he liked it.

Felix sucked in a breath.

Calm down. It’s not like you haven’t been this close before. He told himself. They’d practically hugged each other at the ice rink the other day, though he didn’t feel the way that he did now.

His thoughts flicked back to that time when he first went to her house as Le Paon, when she held his hand and looked at him with a quiet understanding. He’d felt something then. It was..anxiety..and excitement. An odd eagerness that yearned to be explored. Moments like these- in the quiet of the night and the vulnerability of their hearts -were the ones that resonated within him the most. He couldn’t help wondering if he would feel it now. If he just moved his hand a little closer.. Would he be able to..?

Felix ripped his hand away and took another deep breath. Marinette was asleep right now. He couldn’t go around touching people like that while they were unconscious, even if it was a simple hold of the hand.

He pushed her back onto her side of the car- careful not to wake her up too much -and buckled her in so she wouldn’t fall again. They dropped her off a few minutes later. She was a bit disoriented, but thanked them nonetheless and got out like nothing had happened. Felix wondered if he would be able to act the same way when he saw her again.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asainfrustration13 @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @fanficaddict4ever @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @mermaidreject

#Le Paon AU #Felinette #Felix Agreste #Marinette

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blessed-but-distressed · 4 years

Text

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

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also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

***

Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

#cs ff #cs au #findemmaswanafriend #the emotional return #been a while...

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

045. Part 2

As said, this is a three-parter and the warnings apply to all parts. Only the bold ones to this part. I promise it will end well in the last(?) next part! (You know me I never let it end bad!)

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hankon | AU: reverse AU (Warnings: android being shipped off to Cyberlife for analysis of deviancy, loss of privacy, loss of control, most think the android is dead, grieving character, trauma because of past mistakes, canon-typical violence)

[part1] [part3] [part4]

The precinct was as silent as ever that day. No one dared to say a single word out loud. Maybe there were whispers where necessary, but mostly it was dead quiet. After Richard had come back yesterday, he had gone straight back to Connor’s and Hank’s desk and pulled the android out of his chair. There was a screaming match between Connor and Richard as the stronger, taller twin pushed Hank against a wall, punching him straight into the regulator. Hank’s calmness and lack of reaction only made Richard more furious about it all and his attacks more intense. Connor tried pulling him away, only to earn a fist on his eye, too. It was Fowler who forced him to stop, standing on the stairs to his office, threatening Richard with a disciplinary and suspension. Connor had doubted this to hold his brother back, but he had let Hank go and marched back to his desk in silence.

Connor didn’t file a complaint and Hank wasn’t damaged enough to get him for it, so Richard wasn’t suspended. Still the next day he didn’t come to work, apparently ill. Connor was conflicted. He could understand Richard’s reaction and he worried for his well-being but throwing his fists around was not a good way to handle this. As much as Connor himself hated Hank for it, he still was just a machine. He wasn’t deviant. He followed his orders. No matter how wrong they were, who gave them initially was at fault, not Hank.

Connor couldn’t take this any longer. There was a familiar itch in his hand and his head was too busy for him. Only a few hours in, everything was already pressing down on him and he longed for a bottle to wash it all away. He knew it wasn’t healthy, he knew it was a bad thing to do, but he just couldn’t help it. ‘Fuck it’, he mumbled under his breath, shutting off his terminal. ‘I’m going.’ ‘Where to, Lieutenant?’, the android asked, but he was already walking away. ‘I’m going.’

Hank stayed at work without informing anyone of Connor’s absence. It wasn’t necessary as they had no running mission and as it had turned out a deviant hadn’t been among the gang-members but their very own precinct, he was left without a task. ‘Hey, there has been a homicide reported. Eden-club. Some Sex-club downtown. You… errr… where’s Connor?’ ‘You can give me the details; I’ll brief him once he’s back from the restroom.’ A lie. Not the best of options but acceptable as long as he did find Connor and followed the mission. ‘Yeah sure. I’ll upload it to your terminal then.’

Hank had checked Jimmy’s bar with no luck and was now driving to Connor’s house, hoping to find him there. No one answered as he rang the doorbell, but that didn’t mean Connor wasn’t home. As he went around the house, he could see the man lying on the floor unconscious. So, he did the reasonable thing breaking in and slapping him awake. ‘Connor, we got a case.’ ‘Fffffuck off, ya damn android!’ ‘Don’t think I can do that. You are intoxicated and I need you. I’ll sober you up for your own safety, Lieutenant.’ ‘Ya ain’t gonna do shit, ya hear me? You did enough already!’ Regardless of Connor’s words, he hoisted him up and pulled him to the bathroom pushing him under ice-cold water. Finally, that pulled him out of it. ‘Hank? What the fuck are you doing here?’ ‘We have a case. A homicide reported 43 minutes ago.’ ‘Shit. They’ll give me so much shit for leaving…’ ‘I don’t think they realised.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I told them you were off to the bathroom.’ ‘For four hours?’ Hank shrugged. ‘They didn’t seem to notice you leaving.’ ‘And you lied to them?’ ‘I can lie if it helps me archieve my mission.’ ‘I wish you could have lied yesterday.’ ‘About what?’ ‘Oh, fuck off, would’ya? Go get me some clothes, I’ll be up in a minute.’

They drove to the Eden-club in silence and Hank only half-way spoke up: ‘Connor? Can I ask you a question?’ ‘Of fucking course.’ ‘I only follow my mission. I am expected to follow my mission. I am made to obey. Yet me detecting an android amidst us as a deviant made you and your brother angry. What did I do wrong?’ ‘Hank, you… You did nothing wrong. But your mission may be wrong. I wouldn’t say all these androids rebelling and running away from their jobs and murdering people are good things. But that GV200? He was content working here. Deviant or not wouldn’t have made a difference. He loved my brother. He saved him. I can’t see what is wrong with that.’ ‘He wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to obey. He didn’t. That is wrong.’ ‘Okay, let me tell you from experience: Orders are not always perfect. Someone gives you an order thinking about all eventualities and meaning good. But in the end when you are there yourself, you might see something the one who gave that order didn’t expect. And then you should evaluate it yourself, not just blindly follow it.’ ‘But that would be against protocol.’ ‘If Gavin followed protocol my brother would be dead. And we got the perp anyways. So, he did the right thing.’ ‘He disobeyed’, Hank disagreed. ‘That can be the same thing’, Connor sighed and put on the radio to stop any further argument.

Investigating the crime at the Eden-club quickly got messier than thought. Hank managed to trace the blue-haired Tracy easily, but once he found her it was a blur of fast preconstruction and programmed responses. Connor was fighting a second android, but they both were remarkably competent, and Hank had to concentrate on his android completely. Somehow, they ended up outside, Hank jumping up from where he had fallen, gun in hand and aiming for the blue-haired Tracy. He could shoot. He could spare her. She was a deviant. Connor’s words were still in his head, otherwise he would have shot without hesitance. Sometimes disobeying and doing the right thing is the same. He loved him. Before he knew he had decided, the moment of choice had passed and the Tracy backed up, explaining herself. Hank was still overwhelmed, his software instability messing with his system. Why hadn’t he shot? Had he disobeyed? He watched them get away and flinched, when Connor sighed and turned to leave. ‘Maybe it’s better this way.’

The next weeks Richard had come back to work. But he was the shadow of the man he once had been. He wasn’t focussed on work, Connor often found him staring off into the distance. When he did work it was sloppy and not as thoroughly as in the past. He had been assigned a new partner at the end of the week and Connor had expected it to go to shit. But Richard was civil with the TI300 and they formed an efficient team. But it wasn’t like before. Richard was wasting away. His formerly neat and tidy appearance slacked, his hair was greasy and dishevelled and his favourite form of communication were a series of variating grunts. Connor couldn’t remember when the last time had been his brother smiled. Ever since Hank found him collapsed in his kitchen the android had apparently decided to take care of him as much as he was allowed, annoying him into eating properly and to stay away from the alcohol as much as possible. It didn’t do shit, he was still drunk most days, but he felt awful about it afterwards. Seeing Richard now slowly spiral into the same shithole, was an entirely different thing.

He wanted to help his brother, be there for him, but work quickly came in between him and his plans. More and more cases of deviancy arose and it was spreading like an illness. With Marcus protesting in the streets and it all being as peaceful as it could be, it got out of hand pretty fast. Detroit felt more and more like a forming warzone and less like a city. People fled to relatives outside the city or took a vacation. With the coming winter the streets were empty and everyone full of concern. Richard wasn’t able to work anymore. He couldn’t act against deviants and as the order came for SWAT to clear the streets and put all androids into holding camps, he refused as he was asked to join them. He requested leave from the police afterwards and only a lot of coaxing from Connor’s side let him give in to staying at his place. Whenever he came home now, Richard would be sitting on his couch huddled in a blanket and watching the news, their enormous dog Sumo in his lap. The dog wasn’t allowed there normally, but Connor couldn’t bring himself to telling Richard this. He needed comfort, so to hell with the state of the cushions. At least he didn’t drink. Richard had always been one to only drink on special occasions and maybe that saved him from wrecking his body even more. Some nights Connor could hear him cry in the living room and whenever Hank accompanied Connor home, he didn’t speak a word.

He still believed Gavin was alive. Connor saw the hope in his eyes when one of Marcus’ marches was covered by the news. He could see his hurt whenever another shooting of androids had been mentioned. He could see his anger when Cyberlife was interviewed. Connor wanted it to be true. That the GV200 was stored away in some lab and no matter what had been done to him, that at least he was still alive. He wanted that Marcus was successful. He wanted it all so badly. But he didn’t believe it.

He didn’t believe it, until it happened.

The androids were singing, the President had called the army off and Richard…

Richard was smiling.

[>next part]

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lils420 · 4 years

Text

A lil something for the kids - Part 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (I promise you we‘re close)

Summary: Y/n has now arrived in Wakanda, but will they take her? A night has passed since Part 5

https://lils420.tumblr.com/post/617186196866646016/lils420

Warnings: None

Y/n was woken up the next day by the soft buzzing of the jet she was in. Quinjet Rogers had called it. He was sitting on the pilot seat, seemingly in thought, and flying the plane effortlessly. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how many times he had done it before. Through the windows, y/n was able to see the low plains of what she believed was Kenya, immersed in the red-golden twilight of the sun rising. It was breathtaking. She also saw her reflection, which, she figured, wasn’t half as beautiful. Still wearing the blue overcoat, she looked worn out. The stress of the past week had caused her to loose weight and with it, the inner glow of a healthy person. Her y/h/c hair wasn’t as lively as usual, missing it’s vitality. Suddenly, y/n longed for a warm shower to clean herself up and wash her troubles away. She shuddered and pulled her coat tighter around her before standing up and making her way to the cockpit, taking the seat next to Steve.

“Good morning”, he greeted her as she made herself comfortable, “You look about as alive as I feel.”

Y/n made a quiet noise half-way between a laugh and a snort. “Must feel like being a zombie then.”

“That would be highly accurate”, Steve smiled, “But in good news, we’re almost in Wakanda.”

Y/n felt obligated to point out that there was not a single house in sight, yet alone the technological advanced super nation that Steve had described Wakanda to be, but she kept her mouth shut. What point was there to keep asking questions about things that seemed normal to the Avengers if the only outcome was her making a fool of herself. Instead, she busied herself with inspecting the numerous buttons in front of her and Steve. Her time away from earth had taught her multiple things of planes and aircraft, even though she felt that she was not half as comfortable in a cockpit as Steve was. There also was a third chair in the cockpit, which Thor had sat on until yesterday. Y/n had liked Thor, with his big heart and boyish grin. Because he seemed to trust everyone and everything, he had told her about his own story yesterday. About his adopted brother Loki, about Aether, and the death of his mother. And repetitively also about Jane, his ex girlfriend, which, turns out, had not been dumped by Thor but vice versa. They had said goodbye to Thor at about midnight, because he wanted to defend Asgard, his home town, from something called Ragnork and therefore had to continue his quest. Although y/n had no idea what it meant, she felt the urgency in his voice when he talked about it and in that she saw Thor’s great love for his people. And when she watched him practically ‘beam’ himself into the sky, on a light way as strong and beautiful as her own power, she felt a sudden wave of sadness that their acquaintance had been over so quickly. Even now, just looking at the chair, she missed him, in a weird, but familiar way.

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked, interrupting y/n’s thoughts. She nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” As if on queue, the quinjet dipped into the protection that had shielded whatever lay inside from outside eyes, and gave sight to an enormous city. In the middle pranked a combination of skillfully designed towers, weaving and reaching into the sky, announcing modernity and progress to anyone that looked at them. Surrounded by equally elegant housing, the city stretched until the very outskirts of the mountain it had been build upon, just reaching the spot where Steve and y/n had entered. People where walking around, talking, flying, some with animals, some with weapons, covering the city, up until the more traditionally build suburbs, which promised the continuity of tradition in the modern world and interlinking past and future in a perfectly build present. Y/n hadn’t realized she had stopped breathing until she exhaled audibly. “So this is Wakanda”, she remarked softly. Rogers flew straight over the city, giving y/n the opportunity to inspect it closely, leaving her even more overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it. Even when Steve had landed the plane, near one of the towers, and they climbed out of it, she had to remind herself constantly to keep her mouth shut. It was hard, especially when they were greeted by a committee made up of female warriors, that radiated strength and security. One of them stepped forward. “Captain America”, she stated confidently, “What a pleasure to see you.” Both made a cross with their arms, a form of greeting y/n supposed, before Steve answered. “Good morning, Okoye. Thank you for having us.” “Don’t thank me”, she retorted, “If it was going my way, we would keep Wakanda closed. I do wonder what you put in T’Challa’s head that he keeps agreeing to see you.” Steve shrugged apologetically, before Okoye looked at y/n. “So this is her? The Fire girl? She does not look like much.” Okoye’s eyes lingered on y/n for a little longer, and y/n felt herself shrinking into the coat, as if it could protect her. In an even more helpless attempt to escape the gaze, she clinged onto her backpack. Then, abruptly, Okoye turned around and went towards one of the towers. Steve and y/n followed her, behind them the rest of the warriors.

The inside was architecturally as impressive as the outside. They went through multiple long corridors before entering what y/n believed was the the kings headquarters. T’Challa. “My king”, Okoye announced, “Captain America and the Fire girl.” She went to stand on the side, making it possible for y/n to see the king. He was a handsome man, a little older than her, wearing a black suit and sitting on a throne. Around him, there were about six other people, an older lady for example, who by the facial resemblance could have been his mother, and one that did not look older than eighteen. “Good morning”, T’Challa spoke in a clear voice, and once more, their arms were crossed as a greeting. For a moment, y/n was not sure whether she was supposed to do it herself, but she decided against it. After all, it could be reserved for the elders or people of importance and her doing it could be an offense which she did not mean to happen. “So this is her.” T’Challa’s eyes traveled up and down y/n, but unlike Okoye’s, they seemed friendly, almost curious. “What is your name, Fire girl?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

“And you had contact with an infinity stone?”

“Yes”, she confirmed, hectically adding, “Your majesty.” It earned her a smile from the king, who tilted his head. There was a pause, and y/n was once more not sure what to do. Did they expect her to elaborate on this matter? Was she only to speak when spoken to? Nervously, y/n dug her nails into her palms. Luckily, Steve continued to speak. “T’Challa, I know that I have once already asked for your favor and believe me, I would not do it again if I saw another way. I come to you today to ask you to provide a place of safety for y/n, as you so reliably did before.”

“Yes, but we froze the other one. You don’t expect us to freeze her, do you?”, the young girl had spoken, and although some approvingly murmured at her words, it was met with a sharp look from T’Challa. “Shuri, be quiet.” Steve continued. “She is strong, so I believe she would grow to be an asset for Wakanda’s safety but she cannot control her power well. She is in need of safety procedures only Wakanda can provide.”

“How do you expect us to train her?”, a middle aged man inquired, “not one of us has this power.”

“I believe she can train herself. She needs guidance in dealing with her strength, just as, I am sure, you needed guidance, T’Challa, after earning the strength of the Black Panther. But her power is unique, and she understands it, so she will be able to control it.”

‘What a lie’, y/n thought to herself, but the Captain’s words gave her confidence. “How skilled you are in the methods of rhetoric”, the older woman observed gently, “I want to believe you.”

“But we shouldn’t”, the middle aged man argued, “Our highest priority should be Wakanda. What if we cannot contain her?”

“But what if we led her go and she becomes a danger to Wakanda from the outside. What if we cannot defeat her? This way we ensure she stays on our side”, T’Challa answered. The other man scoffed. “You are naive to believe in a moment of power she remembers those who once taught her, my king.”

“I did”, T’Challa answered coldly, “and so did my father.” A short pause followed, in which y/n unclenched her hands a little. It was strange to be spoken about in room she was in as if she weren’t present, but she didn’t dare to speak. The stakes were high, and even if she hadn’t seen what security measures Wakanda had, she already felt at peace here. She’d do anything to stay. It was T’Challa who broke the silence. “And we must not forget, she carries the power of an infinity stone. If we could find a way to use it, to channel it, it would be an extremely powerful weapon.”

“I am sure I could find a way”, Shuri said cockily, “It could not be harder than the metal arm I had to make for the broken white boy.”

Her response was met with a defeated sigh from the middle aged man. “Fine”, he said, “if you want to test it, you can. But, my king”, he looked T’Challa directly into the eyes, “there is a reason why Wakanda is closed to foreigners. I believe you should reconsider.”

But T’Challa had already stood up and made his way to Steve. “We will take her, Captain”, he extended his hand, which Steve promptly shook. “Thank you”, he replied and for the first time, y/n saw relief in his face. She hadn’t realized how fragile this situation really was.

It was Shuri who led y/n away from the others after they had said goodbye to Steve, who would return to New York. They went down the tower until y/n wasn’t sure whether they were under the earth or not. It was a labyrinth of corridors and she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they weren’t supposed to keep others out, but her in. Shuri had given her a few clothes, which y/n carried attentively. It was nothing special, a few shirts, trousers, a hoodie, some underwear, but she briefly wondered where this stuff came from. No one she had seen until now was wearing western fashion. Maybe it’s to show them, y/n caught herself thinking, how much of an outsider I really am. As if her complete lack of understanding regarding their culture didn’t make it obvious. Silently, she decided to read up everything she would be able to find about Wakandan culture. She didn’t remember ever feeling this ignorant. Shuri stopped in front of a corridor with three doors. She motioned at one of them. “Behind this door there is a small kitchen, it’s usually not used for more than coffee breaks but it has a microwave and a fridge, so maybe we can stock it up for you.” Y/n smiled thankfully as they moved down the corridor. “This one is your room. It’s quite small, but I am sure you’ll manage.”

“Thank you, Shuri”, y/n was excited at the prospect of her own room. After all, she hadn’t had one for the past five years. “Behind the last door”, Shuri motioned at the door in the back, “is your training room. I should warn you though, there is another person in there. The white man that Captain America send to us a few months back.”

“He just leaves there?”, y/n asked, before fearing something worse, “you didn’t make him move out of the room for me, did you?” “What?”, Shuri laughed, “oh you silly Fire girl. No, he’s frozen. Like a popsicle.” Of course, y/n remembered, they froze him. “God, I am admirably slow today”, she sighed, “Thank you for showing me the way.” “No problem. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow”, she opened the door to y/n’s room before handing her a small key, “We’ll wake you at eight.” And with that, she made her way back up the tower.

Y/n entered the room, which, for her, was not small at all. It wasn’t a loft, but she felt at ease right away. With the wine colored curtains and the small windows, which showed her that, in fact, they were not under the earth yet, it felt cozy. Y/n put down the clothes on her bed and her backpack on the floor. It carried the few belongings that had survived the way back to earth. Slowly, she started unpacking. A few pictures, a notebook, an old purple teddy bear and a broken watch. Initially, she had been surprised when she had found them on her spaceship but now, knowing that Clint had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., she was almost sure he had made sure she could keep these things. Somehow that eased her hate for him. Y/n reached into the pockets of her blue overcoat and pulled out the envelope Steve had given her. It was brown and small, but it felt heavy, as if a considerable amount of paper was inside. Y/n y/l/n was written on the front, in a font that y/n would recognize anywhere. It was Clint's handwriting. She held the letter in her hands for a while before putting it on her nightstand. It had been a tough few days and she didn’t have the capacity to read it right now. Although it was merely midday outside, y/n was exhausted. She decided it would be best for everyone if she went to bed, but first, she was going to have her well deserved shower.

@broco8

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streetlightyeri · 4 years

Text

you’re looking at me like you don’t know who i am ; damon salvatore [part 1]

part 1 to house of cards

prompt: a girl shows up at the door of the boarding house looking for directions, and somehow manages to find her way into the elder Salvatore brother’s heart, only for her to see what he truly is

word count: 10,007

“blood on my shirt, rose in my hand, you're looking at me like you don't know who I am”

A knock on the door brought Stefan out of his thoughts; he listened to see if Damon would get up and answer it, without a doubt close to the door than he was. No sounds of movement came to his ears. He sighed and pushed his chair back. As he walked down the stairs, he saw Damon reading a book. “Really? You couldn’t have answered the door?”

He shrugged, smirking, “Couldn’t hear it.”

Stefan sighed once again, opening the door to see a girl he’s never seen before. Her beachy blonde hair was pulled into two buns on either side of the top of her head with two red scrunchies, two small pieces of hair hanging by her face. She was wearing a yellow graphic tee tucked into a pair of jeans that were held up by a black belt, bringing attention to her socks and shoes. Her eyes were complimented by a light taupe eye shadow and long winged liner; the fading sun caught the white highlight on her cheekbones. She had a confused look on her face as she looked up to Stefan, her hands grabbing the straps of her booksack.

“May I help you?” Stefan asked, holding the door in his right hand.

“Uh, hi, my name’s Angel, uh” she gulped, “Do you know the way back to town from here? I’m really sorry to just knock on your door, but I went on a walk and I got lost. I’m knew in town.” At the sound of a voice he didn’t know, Damon put his book down and walked up behind Stefan, seeing the short girl at the door. The two brothers looked for any sign that she was a vampire or anyone working for a vampire, but she really just seemed to be a lost girl.

Damon began talking before Stefan could, pointing down the street where the lamps were beginning to turn on, “It’s that way, but it’s kinda dangerous around this time of night. I can walk you back to town, if you’d like.”

“O-oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” she spoke, her right foot on its toes on the other side of her left foot.

“Not a problem,” he opened the door more, “Want to come in while I go grab my jacket?”

She hesitantly walked into the boarding house, her eyes filled with wonder at the sight of the enormous living room. While she sat on the couch, looking around in awe, Damon had went upstairs to grab his coat, followed by Stefan after he got her a bottle of water. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, relax, I’m not gonna bite her,” he paused, looking back at his brother and giving him a wink, “yet.”

“Don’t try anything Damon; she seems like she won’t interfere with us later on.” Stefan warned, before going back to his room to finish what he was doing earlier.

Damon rolled his eyes before taking one last look at himself in the mirror and popping his jacket collar. He walked downstairs to see the girl standing and looking at the pictures on the wall, her booksack leaning against the couch where she had been sitting earlier. He cleared his throat, making her jump and turn around; she nervously tucked one of the free pieces of hair behind her ear before speaking, “I’m sorry for looking! I was just amazed by how nice everything in this house is . . .”

Damon let out a breathy laugh, “You’re fine. You ready to go?”

She nodded, putting her water bottle in her booksack and putting it on once more. Damon walked to the door and held it open for her, sending the back of her head a short questioning look once she walked passed and gave him a “thanks.” There was something about this girl that he didn’t understand . . .

As the two were walking to the end of the boarding house’s driveway, she began to make conversation, “How long have you lived in Mystic Falls, uh, what is your name by the way?”

Damon blew out a breath, “Jesus . . . uh, a long time. However, I just recently came back again. And it’s Damon.”

“Missed home?” She looked up to the side of his face, his sharp facial features causing sharp shadows to cast across his face from the street lamps. “Sorry for prying, I’m just super new to this town. Trying to see if it’s worth it.”

“New as in . . . ?”

“Moved in yesterday!” She said with a laugh.

“Why Mystic Falls?”

“Well, I think my brother chose it because he wanted me to finish off my last year of high school quietly.”

“Your brother?” Damon gave her another questioning look, except this time she could see it. His eyebrows came together and his head tilted. His hands were in his pockets as they walked.

Angel sucked in through her teeth, “Yeah, our mom died right before the end of my junior year and we never knew our dad, so, Mystic Falls it was once I turned 18 and we got all the legal stuff figured out.”

Damon’s eyebrows shot up as he looked ahead, “Sorry for asking.”

“You’re fine, there was a lot of free therapy back in Baton Rouge. For some reason they gave out therapy appointments like people in other towns give out casseroles and stuff.” She laughed, taking the piece of hair out from behind her ear.

Damon let out a low whistle, “Louisiana? That’s a far way to come from.”

“We both agreed it was just time to kinda get as far away as possible without actually having to freeze our asses off. This is even kinda cold.”

“Yeah, it is pretty cold compared to what it normally is like around this time of year. What do you think you’ll miss most about Louisiana? The weather?” Damon asked as the two stopped at a bridge with a stream running under it.

Angel propped herself against the railing with her forearms, looking down at the river, “I’ll miss that, of course, but, and I know this is gonna sound weird, but I think I’ll miss the little stuff like the way we speak the most.”

“What do you mean?” Damon was leaning against the railing with his back, facing the opposite way Angel was, allowing him to she her whole face when he looked down.

Angel thought for a moment, “Like . . . when we put away dishes, we say ‘save the dishes’ or instead of ‘going grocery shopping’ we say ‘making groceries’. It’s just something I grew up with and didn’t know other people didn’t say the same things when I went on vacation to Colorado with my family one year and I asked the hotel desk worker where I could save the pens and he just stared at me and asked what the pens were in danger of.

“It seems weird, but I think it’s a comfort thing. My grandma’s first language was Cajun French, so it just makes me feel connected to her. And - sorry,” Angel let out another laugh, “I’m rambling.” She stood up straight and gave an eye smile to Damon, before letting out a shiver.

Damon’s gaze never left her face as she spoke, and when she smiled he felt something deep in his chest twitch, something telling him he had to protect this girl. So, when he saw her body shake from the breeze that passed against the pair, he didn’t hesitate to take his jacket off and hand it over to her. She gave him a thankful look before taking her booksack off and slipping it back on. He noticed that his jacket completely swallowed her, her hands no where to be seen and it went down to the middle of her thighs.

“Oh, it’s really warm. Thank you,” Angel smiled up at him once again.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they continued walking, the sound of Damon’s boots hitting the sidewalk was an odd comfort for Angel and the sound of the different charms on her booksack’s zipper rings hitting each other was an odd comfort for Damon. They began to enter the city, obvious by the increase of cars going by them and the decrease in the noise of the cicadas. Damon was walking on the outside, near the road. “Can you tell how far you are, yet?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s the turn up there. If you want to turn back home, you can. I’m sorry for making you walk all this way with me.” She looked up to him, her hands in the pockets of his jacket; it smelled like bourbon and sophisticated men’s cologne.

“Came this far, might as well see you home.” Damon said, looking back and forth between houses, getting an uneasy feeling. Someone, or something, was there, and it was hungry.

As the two finally set foot on Angel’s porch, she unlocked the door and opened it, allowing Damon to see a sliver into the house that was filled with boxes. “Hey, why don’t you let me cook you dinner? As a thanks and as a I-don’t-really-know-anyone-else-in-this-town-and-would-like-a-friend thing . . .”

Damon agreed and soon he was sitting in her kitchen, the only room that he could see that seemed to be unpacked and moved in. “What are you in the mood for?”

Damon pretended to think for a second, “How about you teach me how to make something you would eat in Louisiana a lot?”

Angel smiled at the fact Damon was trying to get her more comfortable in Virginia. “How about breakfast for dinner? I didn’t really trust Virginia seafood; feels wrong morally.”

Damon nodded, and as she turned around to go back into her fridge he hit a realization. He neck was out, completely for the taking, yet he felt no desire to bite her. She was too sweet; he was more into random-teenagers-making-out-in-a-graveyard type. Something about her turned off his vampire, and he couldn’t deny that he sort of liked it.

When Damon came back to reality, he noticed the counter was now filled with half a loaf of bread, vanilla, sugar, eggs, butter, and some milk all next to a deep glass pan. He shot her a quizzical look, “What is this?”

“Pain perdu. It’s a childhood favorite. My grandma used to make it for me all the time,” she said with a reminiscent smile on her face, and pointing to Damon for the rest of her sentence, “It’s time you northerner figured out what good Cajun food is. Now, I’m gonna go change, and then I’ll be back!”

“What if your brother gets home and I just look like a creep who wants to steal you guys’ food?”

“He told me he isn’t getting back until around midnight. The only job he could score on such a short notice was graveyard at a convince store nearby.” Then, she disappeared up the stairs.

When she returned, she was dressed in a pair of Adidas shorts and a loose white tee shirt, with her hair pulled into one bun instead of two and her makeup wiped off. Damon felt his heart stop for a moment. “Ready?”

The two proceeded to make pain perdu, something Angel didn’t know made the house feel more like home. It felt like Louisiana, but yet Damon made the idea of Virginia a lot less scary. The two were laughing and having a good time with her speaker blaring Cage the Elephant and Paramore songs. By the time Damon left, it was nearing 10:30.

When Damon closed the front door to the boarding house, Stefan was at his side in a second and his voice sounded venomous, “Did you kill her?”

Damon rolled his eyes and went to take off his jacket, before realizing he didn’t have it. His shoulders fell in an attempt to hide it as he walked to the library, “No, calm down. Just, went inside for a bit.”

“Inside? Damon, you know if you even attempt to kill that girl, the whole town will be on alert again.”

He rolled his eyes again as he filled a glass with bourbon and downed it, “I’m not gonna kill her. Like I said, calm down.”

Over the next few weeks, Damon found himself outside of Angel’s bedroom window more nights than he’d like to admit. He’d toss a rock until she’d open it; he loved the way she leaned against the window on her forearms and peak her upper body out the window and how her freshly washed hair would fall in front of her shoulders and blow in the wind. Her smile when she would see him would go up to her eyes, and each time it caused the pang in his chest that he didn’t know what it was. He just knew that he wanted to be around her as often as he could and he wanted to protect her from everything that was out there.

He would always tell her to jump down and that he’d catch her, but she never believed him until one day where she decided that if someone was going to get hurt, it was going to be him, so what did she have to lose? And lo and behold, he caught her perfectly fine.

When she jumped down today, he didn’t immediately put her down like he usually does, but rather carried her to the edge of the woods behind her house where there was a group of benches next to a creek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lay her head on his chest and he swore that his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. Everything she did made his heart do that.

When he placed her down on the bench, he wrapped her in his jacket that he had only just recently gotten back. She pulled her knees up to her chest and put her arms through the jacket in order to turn the jacket into a cocoon. Damon took the empty spot next to her and she scooted closer to him so that she could lean her head against his shoulder while he had his arm wrapped around her, rubbing her upper arm ever so slightly. She trusted Damon with her life, which was a weird thing to think about in the long run. After a while of the two enjoying each others presence, he pulled his arm back and reached into his pocket, making Angel get on her knees and sit on her heels as she waited to see what he’d pull out. She sent him a confused look as she saw him pull out a thin bracelet with a glass stone that had a purple plant pressed inside of it.

“I wanted you to have this,” he explained, taking her arm and pushing her jacket back to put it on her.

Her eyes had the same light in them that they did when she walked into his house the day they met, “Damon, it-it’s beautiful . . .”

She looked up at him and they made silent eye contact for a few second before she reached up and pulled him down to meet her lips. The two felt like they were in Disney and the fireworks were going off; it felt like they were water in a lightning storm. By the time they pulled apart, they had no clue what time it was or how long they had been kissing. Damon’s thumbs were in front of Angel’s ears and the rest of his hands behind them; he kept their foreheads connected after the kiss, her arms resting on her knees.

“Angel Robicheaux, will you be my girlfriend?” Damon whispered out, to which she responded with a kiss.

Most people were surprised to find out that it didn’t take a lot of pleading on Angel’s part to convince Damon to go to the Founder’s Party, but most people didn’t know how completely whipped he was for this girl he had met a mere month and a half ago.

“Please? I feel like it’s a way to get to know the people of the town.”

“Trust me, you do not want to get to know the people of this town,” he dismissed. Damon knew that he couldn’t say no to her if he made eye contact with her, so he didn’t. But he could feel them. He could feel her puppy dog eyes baring into the back of his soul. And the ever-strong Damon Salvatore gave in. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

When he looked back he saw her eye smile, making him look away in order to stop himself absolutely melting to be wrapped around her finger more than he already was.

At the sound of her doorbell ringing through her house, Angel walked downstairs as she put her long earrings in. When she opened the door, Damon nearly passed out; something about her fiddling with her earrings with her tilted head and her glittery eyes that got covered when she smiled matched so well with the light blue dress she was wearing. She looked like she came out of an old magazine. He took a deep breath as he looked her over, “You look . . . beautiful.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she opened the door more as a signal for him to come in as she walked away. He leaned against the door as he shut it, wondering how this girl from Louisiana managed to get him so crazy for her so easily. He would kill to protect this girl.

Angel immediately wrapped her arm around Damon after he went around the side of his convertible and let her out. Her heels added an extra five inches to her height, but the fact she stood at a measly 5′0″ meant she still didn’t even fully reach his shoulders. She leaned into his side, not seeing anyone she really knew yet. Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline promised to be there; the only problem was where they were hiding. Damon leaned down to her ear, “You know, if you ever get bored when we’re here, we can always leave and go have fun elsewhere.”

She gave him a small nudge and eye roll, no longer as close to his side as she had been. He pulled her closer to him again once they got to the “Hello, Mrs. Lockwood.”

She gave Damon a smile and Angel a surprised look, “Come in, come in. Hello Mr. Salvatore. And you must be Miss Robicheaux, my son, Tyler, has talked about you quite a lot, by the way.”

Damon raised his eyebrows at her claim, unable to stop the anger beginning to rise in his chest, “Really? Has he?”

Angel smiled and thanked her, pulling Damon inside before anything could happen. She gave him a look, telling him to let it go before she got on her toes to give him a short kiss, “I only have eyes for you.” He was significantly more calm than he had been prior and her arm once more found itself wrapped around his as they walked through the party.

After a short while of walking through the party, Angel caught eyes with Elena who was standing with Damon’s brother and began leading Stefan in their direction, meeting up with the two at the same time as Caroline and Bonnie and their dates. As the three girls chatted, saying hi to Caroline and Bonnie’s dates, Angel didn’t even realize as she rested her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. The four didn’t take notice of the unbreaking eye contact between the Salvatore brothers. In minutes, Angel found herself with Stefan, Elena with Damon, and Bonnie and Caroline switching dates.

“Drink?” Stefan offered up.

“I don’t understand how this happened,” Angel stated, taking a sip after letting out a small scoff.

“Caroline’s a sucker for a dance, I guess,” Stefan stated. It was awkward, the two had never really talked before; she wasn’t even sure if Stefan knew she was officially dating his brother. His next question confirmed that suspicion.

“Angel, how serious are you with Damon?”

“Pretty serious for someone I’ve only known for about a month and a half. He asked me out around two weeks ago.”

“He-he asked you out?”

She sent him a questioning look, “Is that surprising or something?”

“Yeah, well, uh, let’s just say Damon isn’t quite over his ex just yet. I’d ask Caroline; she seems to know him . . . well.” He raised his glass to hips lips as she searched for something to say, but was interrupted by Damon and Elena returning.

He wrapped his arm around Angel’s waist, staring Stefan down. Stefan was doing the same. Angel and Elena looked at each other, confused.

“Damon, do you by chance want to dance?” Angel asked, breaking the awkward tension of the group. When he looked down to see her gazing up at him, he gave his first real smile since he had gotten there. He couldn’t look away from her as they danced. Dance was a strong word, it was more of a sway, with her head on his chest and her arms around his neck and his arms wrapped around her. When the slow song ended, she looked up to see him already looking down at her. She had the world in her eyes and he wanted to tell her he loved her at that moment. She lifted her hand to bring his head down once more, but when their lips touched, he pulled back, wincing. A healthy amount of fear covered Angel’s face, and Damon felt bad for making her worry. But he knew that pain: vervain.

“Babe, did you drink something?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, I drank a little bit of champagne with Stefan when Caroline made us all split up for whatever reason. Why? Are you okay?” The two had stopped dancing, standing like stones in the middle of the moving bodies.

He pretended to wave it off, not wanting to ruin her night, “It’s fine, I’m just allergic to champagne, I think.” He smirked and his voice lowered as he raised his eyebrows and moved to kiss her neck. “Just because I can’t kiss you on the lips doesn’t mean I can’t kiss your elsewhere . . .”

She giggled and pushed him back, but almost screamed at the sight of her boyfriend with dark veins around his eyes and his eyes that held a murderous look. “Not here, Damo - oh my God what happened to your face?”

He glanced passed her and into the mirror, seeing his face. He was getting hungry, and his body didn’t like the fact he was so close to her neck and wasn’t biting. He looked down, rubbing his face as he began to push his way outside, “That champagne must’ve been really strong . . . need some air. Stay here.”

Just like that, she was alone on the dance floor. Her shoulders fell as she watched him leave, only to be intercepted by a seemingly-angry Elena for a few seconds before he walked off once again. Tyler Lockwood walked up to her, seeing the whole scene go down. He held out a drink for her, which she took, downing it quickly.

“He’s an asshole,” Tyler began, only to be stopped by Angel.

“Look, I get what you’re trying to do. I’m sure you’re a cool guy,” Angel whispered before walking off, “but please, don’t.”

She began walking by the edge of the river once her head began to hurt; she hoped fresh air would help her, and maybe she could find Damon. The sound the the water spout in the river helped her block the sounds of the party out and focus, trying to ignore the throbbing pain she felt behind her eyes. What could Stefan have meant? What did Caroline have to do with this? Then she saw it. Caroline being held from behind by a guy; a guy she knew all too well.

“Damon?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Caroline? What is going on?”

No response. The two looked at her like deer in headlights.

“Are one of you going to explain? Or are you just going to stare at me like I’m fucking stupid?” Damon had never heard her this angry before - hell, he had never even heard her angry before.

Elena’s voice saved Caroline, “Caroline, come see.”

The blonde girl took the escape option, Stefan sent his brother a warning glance before turning to take Elena and Caroline home. Then it was just the couple left.

Angel crossed her arms, her words beginning to slur because of her pounding headache, “When Stefan told me you weren’t over your ex, I assumed he was just giving me a warning or something, and when he told me to ask Caroline about it, I was just confused. But now I see, your ex must be Caroline and you must really not be over her. Damon, I thought we actually had something, but I guess I really was just fresh bait to rebound on.”

Damon moved to grab her shoulders, but Angel went to move away. As she tried to move her foot behind her, her whole body gave out. She fell like a bag of bricks, her eyes rolling back in her head. She would’ve hit the ground had it not been for Damon catching her. He tried waking her, calling her name, shaking her, but she was unresponsive. He picked her up bridal style and hoped that she would wake up, just not in the next few seconds that it took for him to get to the boarding house. When he lay her down on his bed and placed a cold washrag on her forehead, he wrapped her small hand in his large one, rubbing his thumb over it. Before he could whisper “please be okay,” she began to stir. She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, but Damon shushed her and made her lay back down. “Hey, hey, baby, be careful.”

“Damon?” She asked and when she received confirmation she groaned, “My head is killing me. I didn’t know vodka could do that to someone. Tyler must buy the pure stuff or something; I don’t even know why I accepted it.”

It couldn’t, but Damon kept that to himself. He would deal with that kid later. Right now all that mattered was her. “What do you remember?”

She groaned again, signaling him to turn off his lamp. “I remember us kissing for like half a second and then you left and then Tyler handed me the drink and then I saw you and Caroline, but I don’t even remember what was happening with that. I just remember I was so angry, something I’ve never really felt before, and then I woke up here. I’m sorry if I said something mean.”

Damon swore he was ready to marry her at that moment, “No, you’re fine. Caroline and I were just, looking for something she dropped.”

Angel nodded as he stood up from his spot next to her hip on his bed to close the windows and the curtains. “Babe, can you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Can I borrow some clothes to change into? And another wash rag? I feel like if I stand up I’ll puke.”

He silently snorted, “I was hoping that I’d see you in my clothes under different circumstances, if you get what I’m putting down.”

“Damon Salvatore, you may be my boyfriend now, but that doesn’t guarantee you will be forever if you keep talking like that.”

His eyes widened and he turned back to his drawers, puling out an old tee shirt and shorts and handing them to her. When he returned with another washcloth, he saw the original one covered in makeup, sitting on top of her clothes. He also noticed that his shorts were still there, only the tee shirt on her. It’s like she loved to drive him crazy. When he went to pester her about it, he noticed she was asleep; he opted to place the new washcloth on the bedside table and placed a kiss to her forehead before going to track down his brother.

Stefan looked up when he heard his door nearly slam open; Damon was standing there, murder in his eyes. He moved to be in front of Stefan and once he was, his chest heaving from angry breaths, he raised his hand and gave him a firm right hook. Damon took a grip of his brother’s collar, bringing his mouth to his brother’s ear. “If I wanted to bite her, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now? If I wanted to kill her, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now? I’m not one to play with my food. If you even think about doing something like that to her again, I swear to God I will kill you myself. You better count your blessings that she was drunk.”

When Damon let him go, Stefan fell to the floor but quickly picked himself up. “You realize you’re going to have to tell her about everything eventually right? She saw the desire on your face, and you knew you were close to biting her. You only didn’t because of the vervain and the people.”

“You’re one to talk,” Damon scoffed, “Tell me how it goes when Elena figures out what you are. Also, the difference between desire and actions is large: actually doing it. The day I put my fangs in that girl is the day I put a stake through my own heart.”

Damon slammed the door behind him. When he went back into his room, he saw Angel was still asleep; he made a move to grab a blanket off of his bed so he could sleep on the couch in his room, Angel let out a sleepy mumble of “stay, please” and grabbed his wrist. When he got in bed next to her, she immediately moved to lay on his bare chest, and she fell asleep once more to him running his fingers through her hair.

He didn’t expect this to go this far. He didn’t expect himself to be head over heels in love with this girl after a month and a half of knowing each other and that ‘half’ was their only two weeks of actual dating.

Damon was lounging in his bed, watching TV as his girlfriend did homework at his desk. He was in need of attention. He rolled to look at her, “When will you be done?”

She sent him a raised eyebrow, looking back down to her calculus, “After however long it takes me to finish it.”

“Can’t you take a break? Or at least do it in bed?” He asked, wanting her to be closer to him than she was. She let out a playful sigh as she gathered her things and moved to sit to the left of his laying figure. She leaned on her right hand to look down into his eyes, and her words came out without her thinking about them.

“You’re lucky I love you, Damon Salvatore.” The second the words left her lips, her eyes widened in realization, as did his. “Sorry, I- uh-”

Damon had never moved so fast; his lips connected to hers to stop her apology. They once more found themselves forehead to forehead, “I love you, Angel.”

The smile he loved oh so much found its way to her face as her cheeks turned red and she slumped down to hide her face. Damon pulled them away and began peppering kisses across her, only stopped by the sound of her notebook hitting the floor, causing her to place her finger over his overactive lips. “Go shower, we’ll see what happens after.”

Angel didn’t think she had ever seen someone get in a shower so quickly. By the time she had reopened her notebook, the bathroom door was closed and the sound of water falling filled the room.

When Damon got out of the shower, he exited with only a towel around his waist, only to see his girlfriend halfway laying down, sound asleep with her homework open on her lap. He sighed lightly, half smiling at how peaceful she looked. He picked up her book and placed it in her booksack and got dressed. Once he had some amount of bottoms on, he took a large, soft gray blanket and threw it over the two of them since she was laying on top of the comforter. He wrapped his arms around her and she sleepily turned around and burrowed herself into his bare chest. He didn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky.

“Do you guys know if you’re doing anything for Halloween?” Elena asked Angel asked the group. Angel was sitting on her bed, painting her toenails with her foot propped up on her bedside table, Bonnie was sharing the large beanbag on the floor with Caroline. Elena was sitting at Angel’s desk, slyly looking at the pictures of Angel and Damon that were pinned to the cork board. She wanted to tell Angel what Damon really was so badly. Elena felt nothing good could come out of the relationship between Angel and Damon; he had to have an alternate motive. There was no way he just genuinely liked this girl; Damon wasn’t capable of that . . . right? Elena and Bonnie never brought up the night of the Founder’s Party, assuming that Damon had compelled her to not remember anything; as for Caroline, they convinced her that it wasn’t a game she wanted to play.

Angel shrugged as she continued painting her nails, “I was gonna see if there was like a haunted house or something around. I was gonna ask y’all actually. Don’t really know what the Halloween scene around here is like.”

Caroline got excited, “There’s a haunted house, we should all go. It’ll be fun.” Then she took a long look at the Elena and Angel, “No boys though. Ladies night!”

Angel laughed as she closed up the nail polish bottle, “Sure. But you can explain to my boyfriend that the reason he can’t see me dressed up as hot Cher from Clueless is because of ‘ladies night’.”

A nice silence fell over the group before Angel broke it, “Hey guys . . . do you think they’ll ever find Vicki? It’s scary to think about. Like, she just . . . vanished.”

Damon went to answer his phone, only to have it snatched out of his hands by Stefan. “Really, Damon? You want to talk to Angel while you have someone who you just turned into a vampire in the house? Not gonna let it happen.”

Stefan let the call go to voicemail, and played it for Damon to hear before placing the phone in his pocket, “Hey, babe, uh . . . I’m going to the school for the haunted house thing. I’ll swing by if I’m not too tired afterwards? Call me when you can, love you.”

On the other side of the call, however, was a dressed Angel. She placed her phone down and took a sad breath as she looked into her mirror; her hair was straightened, going down to just under her breasts, which were covered by a white tube top and a yellow and black plaid blazer. Her skirt matched her blazer and she had white knee high socks on that led to her white Keds. Bonnie came up to Angel when she exited the bathroom, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. This is ladies night. I am not going to let my dense boyfriend ruin it.” Angel tried to reason, but Bonnie knew there was something else, and Angel knew she couldn’t keep it a secret once the tears began to fall as she sat on the edge of her bed, looking up to her friend, “Damon, he - he hasn’t called me back since we slept together. And I keep remembering this stuff from the night of the Founder’s Party where Stefan told me he wasn’t over his ex and I only remember him mentioning Caroline, but I don’t know what he said about her. I can’t remember anything from that night besides vague details. Bonnie, am I just a rebound? Did I really let myself believe that he saw me as something other than a dumb high schooler?”

Bonnie sat next to Angel wrapped her in a hug, her witch costume not the most comforting material in the world, but Angel didn’t care. After only a few seconds of her comforting, the two were interrupted by Caroline bursting into the room, “Have either of you seen, or even heard from, Elena? Oh . . . oh Angel, what happened?”

When Caroline heard the story, she couldn’t help but glance over to the pictures Elena was inspecting just the other day. She knew she couldn’t tell Angel what was happening between her and Damon, both for Angel’s safety and for the sake of her heart. Caroline took a seat next to Angel and took a hold of her hand, “Listen to me, Angel. I don’t how, or what all happens in his head, but when he sees you, there’s like a button in Damon that changes. We had a . . . thing, but it’s over. There’s something about you; I don’t know what, but you turn him into a different person. Look at your cork board. I never saw a side of Damon like that, he never would’ve agreed to go into a photo booth with me, let alone kiss in one. I think you just need some time away, which is why you’re going to leave your phone here and we are going to have the night of out lives. Now, where’s your makeup bag? We need to touch up your mascara.”

Angel smiled as Caroline pulled her and Bonnie up, taking her to her vanity and sitting her down. Neither of the girls noticed when Angel took off her bracelet from Damon and didn’t put it back on.

As the three entered the school, they were met with Tyler Lockwood immediately, offering drinks. Caroline took one before Angel could protest, and Tyler tried to push one on the other two girls. “No, thanks,” Angel stated, not breaking eye contact, “I think we both know how it’ll turn out.”

“What happened there?” Caroline laughed as she took another sip of her drink before pouring it out into a nearby plant at Angel’s next words.

“I’m pretty sure he tried to roofie me at the Founder’s Party.”

As time passed, the girls began giving up hope that Elena would show. They were slowly descending into a drunken stupor, making sure to check that Tyler was no where near the drinks they got. “Hey, Matt, how’s the party?”

“Great, uh, just feel a little confused,” his voice lowered, “Vicki’s here, so could you guys keep an eye on her if you see her? It took all the power she had to convince me to let her come.”

The girls agreed, a wave of unspoken relief washed over the girl at the news Vicki was safe. They wandered into the haunted mansion, each taking bets on who could get out the fastest and proceeding to slip into different paths. When Angel was running through, trying to beat her friends, she felt a pull at he wrist, only to come face to face with Vicki. “Uh, hi Vicki, are - are you good?”

Angel had never really spoken to the girl alone before, but rather in a group. She didn’t really know how to start a conversation with her normally, let alone after she returned from a stint of being gone from home after she witnessed her friends being murdered. Vicki didn’t respond, but rather grabbed Angel by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes before muttering a “hope this works.”

“Go to the exit and wait for me and Jeremy. If Stefan or Damon comes, don’t let them touch me or him.”

Angel nodded and walked off to the exit, taking her outside, where she waited. She stood with an empty look in her eyes, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Damon was sitting at the Grill with Mrs. Lockwood; he didn’t expect his night to be this way. He more expected a Halloween party with his girlfriend, who was without a doubt, dressed hot as hell. Instead, he was holding out on those thoughts so that he could talk to this woman who was 8 martinis in and was revealing way too much about the Founder’s Council. His fingers played with the rim of his glass. “Didn’t you come to the party with a girlfriend? The high schooler?”

Damon mentally apologized to Angel for what he was about to say, “I was just entertaining her for the night. New in town, so what better way to meet the right people of Mystic Falls than to go to the Founder’s Party with a member of a founding family?”

Later, when he was at the school, he walked up to Bonnie, looking down into a cauldron filled with juice. She gave him a sour look, letting him know he wasn’t welcome.

“Why the harsh look? After all, I’m just here looking for my girlfriend,” he said while filling a cup, “And of course, to get that crystal that’s around your neck.”

Bonnie shook her head, narrowing her eyes up at the elder Salvatore, “Which girlfriend are you talking about? Because as far as I’m concerned, leaving a girl in the dark after sleeping with her isn’t the best way to show your affection. Nor is kissing her best friend and turning her into a snack. Angel will find out eventually, and at that point, it’ll be too late to apologize. But you know that, don’t you? Here’s a thought: why don’t you stay away from both of them? And you’re never getting this necklace back.”

Damon tried to grab the necklace off of her, causing it to burn his hand and give Bonnie the chance to run away. As he focused on the burning sensation of his hand, he heard a scream from far behind the school. However, the scream belonged to a voice he knew all to well: Angel.

As Angel kept watch for Vicki and Jeremy, she tried to ignore the sounds of them making out and Jeremy’s confusion as to why she bit his lip. Then she heard Jeremy’s exasperated huffs as Vicki began to become dangerous, yet her body wouldn’t allow her to run or even move. She saw Elena throw open the door to the gym followed by her running to find her brother amongst the school buses, only giving Angel a few seconds to explain why she wasn’t doing anything.

Angel’s response was quiet and calm, “Vicki told me to keep watch for Stefan and Damon.”

Elena knew she couldn’t do anything about the fact Angel was acting under compulsion, so she just had to hope that she would be able to run when given the chance again. Elena moved to pull Vicki off of Jeremy, throwing her into the open space between the buses and the gym; Elena’s hopes for Angel’s safety were immediately thrown out the window when Vicki realized that she hadn’t told Angel to stop Elena also. The next thing Elena and Jeremy saw was a flash of yellow plaid as Angel screamed and landed in a pile of glass. She struggled to stand when Stefan exited out the same door Elena had earlier; when Angel pulled herself up, she hobbled over to Stefan, glass still in her hands, legs, and side causing blood to pour from multiple areas on her body, staining her socks and blazer. She tried to push Stefan back, but he easily stopped her, but couldn’t override Vicki’s compulsion. He pushed Angel out of the way and made his way to Elena and Vicki; Angel went to follow after Stefan, but stopped when she saw Damon. Unaware that she was under compulsion, he moved closer to her, only for her to attempt to push him back, her blood getting on his shirt. “You can’t go, you can’t help Stefan. Vicki told me to stop you. I’m sorry.”

Damon grabbed her wrist and lifted it to his eyes, pulling her blazer sleeve down to see the bracelet he had gotten her was not on her wrist. Damon pulled Angel’s chin down to make eye contact with him, “Don’t listen to her. Listen to me: go find Bonnie, have her take you to the hospital, and forget what happened out here.”

Damon watched as Angel walked away, not looking back. When he looked down he saw that there was blood on his hands, no doubt from Angel’s wounds, he couldn’t stop himself from lifting his hand to his mouth. He was only stopped when he turned around to see a dead Vicki on the ground, Stefan leaving him to deal with her as he went to bring a mentally scattered Jeremy home.

Damon walked over to Elena, who was standing over Vicki. She began hurling her disbeliefs at him, asking him how he could do something like this, just for his own fun. Damon could handle her anger; it didn’t phase him, he truly meant it when he said nothing about Vicki mattered to him. It wasn’t until Elena brought up Angel that he snapped. “What about Angel? Does she really not matter at all to you? What about Caroline? I should’ve told Angel about you before she went off the deep end and fell in love with you. What happens when she find out about the fact you’re a vampire? What happens when you can’t control yourself around her anymore? I saw what you did after she left. Your lies are a web and they will catch you one day, and that day is soon. You’re only going to hurt her and you know it.”

He grabbed Elena by the neck, his eyes filled with fire. “Mention my girlfriend’s name again with the subtext that I won’t protect her and I won’t hesitate to make you regret knowing the Salvatore brothers’ secret. You need to leave.”

“Just stop hurting my friends.” Elena spit out before leaving.

“Hey, Angel, you should come to my party tonight! It’s at the Grill and your boy is gonna be there!” Caroline sung over the phone.

“I would, but I have a lot of college stuff to do. I’m sorry Caroline.” Angel responded, sighing.

“Oh come on, please? Just for an hour? I’ll take you home myself. when you’re ready to leave. You need to have some fun, all you’ve been doing recently is college stuff.” She pleaded.

“Fine, Caroline, just for you.”

Caroline giggled through the phone, “Sure, ‘just for me’.”

“See you later, Caroline,” Angel laughed, hanging up.

Angel once more found herself answering the door to see her boyfriend standing there, dressed in his usual white shirt, black pants, and leather jacket. His mouth nearly fell open when he saw her dressed in a pink cropped sweatshirt over another pure black crop top paired with jean shorts with suspenders attached and two different pairs of fishnets. “Whew, Virginia has changed you. You know every time I see you, you just get hotter, right?”

“That’s the goal.”

“Not gonna wear anything warmer?”

“That’s your job.” She winked at him, making him groan as she leaned over and tied herself into a pair of black Vans before exiting her house and locking the door behind her. “If you can see it from the front wait ‘till you see it from the back.”

He stopped her from walking down her porch stairs by grabbing her and wrapping his arms around her, her back to his chest. He leaned down to her ear, his voice low but still powerful enough to make a shiver run down Angel’s spine, “If you keep acting like this, I will not hesitate to bring you behind the party and make you forget every name but mine.”

She smirked, and something about her glossy lips shining in the little light from the moon drove him crazy as she whispered back, “Well, then don’t do anything to mess up your chance then.”

With that, she headed to his car, leaving Damon there to take a deep breath and look down to hide the desire on his face. He was glad she wasn’t looking at him; he couldn’t hide behind the excuse of champagne anymore. He didn’t look up until she called out for him, “Are you gonna come or will I have to drive myself?”

He shook his head, smiling to himself; she was so perfect. He wanted to live in this moment forever. Her smiling, sexy figure standing by his convertible, waiting for him in the cool autumn night.

When the two arrived to the party, nearly every male in the bar turned to look at Angel with crazy eyes; it was undeniable that she was extremely attractive, especially dressed to the definition of sex appeal. Damon wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing his lips to hers before the two separated.

Caroline’s jaw opened when she saw Angel walking up to her and Bonnie, causing Bonnie to turn around and do the same. “Oh my God. You look . . . hot.”

Angel looked confused for a second, “Thanks. I think?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a compliment . . . it’s just you normally dress so . . . not dark.”

Angel laughed, taking the empty seat at the table the two were at. “Let’s just say I thought about what you said, Caroline, and you were right. I’m gonna have some fun.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, “Oh no, don’t tell Caroline Forbes she’s right. She’ll never let you live it down.”

“Well, I’m gonna go get us some drinks. How’s that sound?” The two girls nodded and Angel found herself once again standing. As she was walking to meet Damon at the bar to con him into getting the group shots, she was stopped by a female voice, “He’s not the type you want to mess with.”

Angel turned to see a blonde girl with a round face standing at the the pool table, staring at her. When she gave her a questioning look, the girl motioned her over. When Angel stood next to her, Damon took a look behind him, scanning the crowds, looking to make sure she wasn’t being bothered by anyone. Then he saw her with the crazy, and tuned in.

“My name’s Lexi, by the way. I’m a friend of Stefan’s. The Salvatores and I go way back. I just wanted to warn you about Damon; I saw you walk in with him, please don’t expect more out of him than a night. I’ve seen a lot of girls do it.”

Angel had never been so confused. Why was everyone so cryptic about Damon? What was everyone not telling her? “You mean my boyfriend? Damon and I have been dating for a month.”

Lexi’s eyes widened, “D-Damon asked you out?”

“Yeah, uh, is that weird. Is there something you want to tell me besides that you don’t like my boyfriend? I don’t want to sound mean, but I just don’t understand what this is about.”

Lexi shook her head, looking down in confusion before looking back up and making eye contact with Angel. “Tell me, has Damon ever tried to hurt you?”

Angel squinted at Lexi, “No? Are your eyes okay? Your pupils are like, freaking out.”

“Sorry, just noticed your bracelet. Who got it for you?”

“Damon . . .”

Lexi cursed under her breath, “So you truly like Damon?”

“Yeah? I love him, he treats me like a queen, honestly. Can I go talk to him now?” Angel answered, leaving immediately after Lexi gave a small ‘sorry, yeah, of course’.

When Angel finally got to Damon, she noticed his grip on his glass of scotch was deathly and his jaw was locked so hard it seemed almost painful. When her hand touched his shoulder, his body relaxed. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

He turned on the stool to face her, grabbing her and bringing her closer, whispering in her ear. “Now that you’re here, of course I am. Gonna let me shoot my shot, yet?”

“Too early in the night. I promised Caroline I’d at least stay an hour. After than, we can have as much fun as you’d like. For now, why don’t you entertain my group and buy us some drinks?” She teased, her elbow resting on the bar and her head propped up on her fist.

He groaned, “You’re gonna make my pockets hurt.”

She sent him a wink before taking the drinks back over to the table, “That’s the point.” When she arrived to see a peeved Bonnie and no Caroline, she sighed and handed Bonnie the extra shot that was meant for Caroline.

“She tried to rip my necklace from my neck.” Bonnie explained, “She wanted it for Damon.”

This night was never ending confusion for Angel, “Why does Damon want some crystal necklace? Why didn’t he ask you himself?”

Bonnie gave Angel a smile, but there was pity in her eyes, “Angel, how much do you actually know about Damon? Have you seen him around others, like, truly, not just in passing? Have you seen him interact with Caroline, ever, not when you were drunk? He’s bad news; I don’t know what’s up with him around you, or if it’s even real. I don’t know how you fit into the bigger picture. But you need to be careful around him.”

Angel couldn’t respond before Bonnie got up and walked to meet Elena, who was taking her turn with Lexi, but her conversion seemed to be going a lot better. Angel took a deep breath and downed her shot, heading to the bathroom.

The bathroom door closed behind Angel, and she went to make the corner, but she saw Caroline talking to Damon at the end of the hallway. She stopped and moved out of sight, but luckily she was still in earshot. She heard everything, all the insults he hurled at her, but shallow was the one that hurt the most. He didn’t know Caroline like that. She seemed shallow on the surface, but she really just wanted the best for her friends. When she heard the sound of Damon’s boots beginning to walk away, she couldn’t help the anger inside of her that caused her to walk up to him and grab the back of his jacket, causing him to turn to see what idiot was doing that. His eyes widened when he saw that it was his girlfriend; he had never seen such fire in her eyes. Caroline used the altercation as her chance to get away, but not before she heard Angel defending her.

“Are you fucking crazy? Is that what people mean by how much of a dick you are? This is how you treat other people? Really? I can’t believe I was so fucking blind! You dare call Caroline shallow, but it’s you who’s shallow! You use me as a fuck buddy and tricked me into falling in love with you,” Angel grabbed his jacket and pulled him down to ensure that only he could hear her last sentence, “If you dare insult anyone else ever again, I swear you;ll hope you never see me again.”

Angel tried to walk off, but Damon grabbed her wrist, trying to get her to listen to him, but she shook him off, her bracelet coming off into his palm. Her words were venomous; he had never seen her like this before, “Let go of me or I will scream.”

Damon watched as she stormed out the Grill through the back exit. He heard Lexi behind him, warning him to not go out after her, “You don’t want to play that game right now.” It took everything in him to not kill her right then and there; that was for later tonight. He pushed passed her and took his seat back at the bar, ordering the strongest thing they had three times over.

Angel’s star gazing session behind the Grill was interrupted by the sound of a commotion happening up front. She walked up the side of the building, confused as to what was happening. When she heard a scream, she began running towards it. She couldn’t just stand there while someone could need help. She ran through the overgrown pathway, landing in front of a tunnel to the right of the Grill. She took a glance down to see Damon standing there, his teeth sunk into a sophomore, forcing his girlfriend to watch. She screamed, causing Damon to look up and blood to spill from his mouth onto his shirt. Damon dropped the boy and began to approach Angel, but she ran as fast as she could, but she wasn’t fast enough. He stopped her on the sidewalk, grabbing a hold of her from behind; he kept a hold of her as she began crying and begging him to let her go. “Please, Damon, let me go, please. I promise I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Please. I’m sorry for what I said earlier, please don’t kill me. Please let me go.”

He had never seen so much fear in anyone’s eyes. Her sobs hurt to hear and her struggling hurt to feel. It pained him to know she was like this because of him. “Shhh, shhh, I won’t hurt you.” He tried to move the hair out of her face, but it proved to be a bad choice on his part. She moved to cover her neck with her hands, fer face covered in tears.

When she realized he wasn’t letting her go, she seemed to accept death and began challenging him, thought she still thrashed in his grip. “You killed that boy. Did you kill Vicki? Did you kill those people in the graveyard? How many other people have you killed? Have you ever thought about how they felt, or how their families felt? Not knowing what happened? You’re a killer. A murderer.”

Damon grabbed her face and brought her eyes to meet his, his pupils moving; the fear was now mingling with anger and hatred. Those were the three things he hoped he’d never see in her eyes; he had promised himself at one point to kill whatever caused that pain, but right now, he had to accept that it was him and all his lies that caused her pain. “Listen to me. Stop thrashing.” Her body went limp, and he hated himself for it. He also promised himself that he would never compel her for his own gain. His heavy breathing didn’t let him feel as she reached her bracelet that was peeking out of his jacket pocket, thinking of Lexi’s comment about it earlier when her pupils did the same thing. “Go home. Forget this happened.”

He watched as she walked down the street, headed towards her house. He almost missed the small clink of something hitting the pavement next to her. Her bracelet.

She didn’t forget. She knew; she knew too much.

#damon #salvatore #damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #stefan #stefan salvatore #imagine #damon salvatore imagine #damon imagine #one shot #damon salvatore one shot #teeth 5 seconds of summer #5sos #teeth #teeth5sos #5 seconds of summer #song fic

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jonelleguevara-blog · 4 years

Text

sprouting from the root

Growing up with a negative self-image has led to the unimaginable. I hated what I saw in the mirror. I didn’t always feel this way. As a little girl, I was stress-free and didn’t feel the pressure of having to impress anyone. Society put the thought in my mind that to be normal you had to be a size 2, straight-A student, and most importantly White. Kind of impossible when you’re an overweight Mexican girl. From then on out my mental health continued to get worse. The only way to overcome this negativity was through motivation.

Although family can be a great motivator, it can also be an enormous stressor. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do in the world to give them a better life, considering what they have done for me. Growing up, both my parents came from low-income households with strong independent single mothers. Their fathers were not in the picture, but that never stopped them from doing what’s best for their kids. With the hope of giving us a better life, my father worked hard in school so that he could further his education and get a good job. He didn’t want us to ever worry about whether we had food on the table or a roof over our heads. Even though this motivates me to do better in school, it puts a lot of pressure on me. There is always a piece of me that feels like I am going to disappoint my father.

My brother and sister both have felt this same pressure on them. This has caused their mental health to suffer-especially my brothers. I tried explaining to my parents that they were too hard on us, but they didn’t understand. All my parents would say things like, “Why can’t you just be happy?” or “You don’t know what stress is.” The day my mom finally realized where we were coming from was when I told her that my brother had tried to kill himself. I remember that conversation like it was yesterday. “I don’t know why you and siblings complain about being stressed if you guys have a great life”. That was the day that I realized my mom wasn’t educated about mental health and the effects it has on people. “I know we have a great life; it isn’t even about that. You guys don’t know how much stress we have and how much pressure y’all put on us” “We don’t put pressure on you guys” “Really? Cause last time I checked, it isn’t normal for kids to feel the need to kill themselves”. Tears rolled down our cheeks as we sat in silence. It was uncomfortable but I knew that from now on things were going to be different.

When my mother was 7 months pregnant with me my father received news that his job was moving him to the United States. After being presented with the opportunity, my family hopped on a plane to head to Wilmington, North Carolina. My parents were excited to start their new lives in the “land of opportunities”. Living in Wilmington seemed like a dream with a safe neighborhood, great school district and amazing weather. It wasn’t until I started school that I realized everything was great, except for the people. Going to school was a living nightmare. The kids would look at me differently and judge me because of the color of my skin. I recall this one time a little boy told me I looked like a “Mexican jumping bean” and asked me if I “swam here”. I didn’t think anything of it because I didn't even know what that meant. I sat there confused as the kids laughed at the racist remark. Coming home I told my brother and sister about the incident that happened in class. They told to me that they were just being bullies and not let it get to me. Now that I think back to that moment it upsets me to think that kids that young could be so cruel.

Throughout the years I grew to ignore the things they said to me and accepted that I was never going to be “normal” to them. After all the hate I still found a way to make some friends and even met more Hispanic kids. Although things were getting better, I still felt that I needed to try a little harder than everyone else to fit in. As if it was my fault that kids didn’t like me. I didn’t feel happy, it wasn’t until the day I came home from school and my parents told us that my dad had been hired at a new job and that we would be moving to Sugarland, Texas.

It was exciting to know that I had another chance at making a good impression. I had no prior knowledge of Texas; all I knew was what Sandy Cheeks taught me off of SpongeBob. Because of this, I thought that it was going to be a hot desert and that I would wear cowgirl boots and shorts to school. I was completely wrong. We moved here during the summer, so it was hot, but it wasn't like a desert at all. Houston was big and bright (something I wasn’t used to since I grew up in a small town). Since I moved there in the summer, I didn’t really have much of a chance to make new friends, so I just had to wait it out until I went back to school. Going back to school was nerve-wracking because this would mean I'd have to make friends again and in the past being Mexican didn’t give me much of an advantage. Being Mexican in North Carolina meant being different, and not in a good way.

My first day at Dulles Middle School was nothing like I'd expected. The diversity in that school was ridiculous. Everywhere I looked I saw a different race. Mexicans, African Americans, Asians, Middle Eastern, it was like culture shock. The diversity I saw was overwhelming, and for the first time in my life, I felt as if I could fit in. It wouldn’t have been a proper first day if something embarrassing didn’t happen. Most of the middle schoolers were used to going off a 7-period schedule. I, on the other hand, was still so used to block classes. So, while everyone was in their 6th-period class I was in my 7th-period gym class. As soon as we figured out what class I was supposed to be in my gym teacher sent one of his students to show me where my class was at. Walking out of the gym the girl began to make small talk, “so are you new here?”, “Yeah, I just moved here” I replied. We had an awkward pause. “Well if you want, we can be friends”. Soon enough we were inseparable.

Before school started my mother had to fill out some papers and on one of the papers it asked what my first language is. My mom obviously put Spanish since that is the language I spoke at home. Assuming I only spoke Spanish, the school put me into an ESL class which is a class for students that just started learning English. At first, I didn’t think anything of it; I just assumed I was put in the class because I just moved to Texas. As the class progressed, I began to feel like the class was too easy, so I spoke with the teacher and requested a schedule change. The teacher began to rant to the class about me wanting a schedule change. “If you think that you are SOOO smart then how about you answer these questions”? She proceeded to ask me questions in front of the class and I got every single one right. That same afternoon I was pulled in the counselor’s office to switch me out.

Once they switched me into a regular class, everything fell into place. The girl I had met earlier was in the English class they switched me into, so I began to feel more comfortable. “Hey! Come sit next to me.” I sat quickly before the bell rang. “My name’s Kaylee, by the way.” “I’m Jonelle.” Soon enough we were inseparable. By the end of the year, I began to feel welcomed in a way I never felt back home. As time went by, I made new friends, friends of different races and cultures. The next year I even worked up the courage to try out for the cheer team and as a result, I wound up with more friends than I could even imagine. Life was going great; I was happier than as I’d ever been. As 8th grade came to an end, my family bought a house a little further down in the neighboring town of Missouri City. Sadly, this would mean I'd have to move to a different high school and leave all my new friends behind. I was scared that all the friends I had made in the past two years were just going to forget about me.

To help me transition into high school, my mom thought that it would be a good idea for me to try out for the cheer team. Sadly, I missed tryouts, so she told me that the high school I was going to attend had a dance team and asked me if I wanted to give it a shot. I always had a love for dancing but never actually took classes, so I decided to audition. Most of the girls that were trying out already knew each other from middle school so I stayed to myself throughout the whole process. At the end of the day, they posted the numbers of the girls who had made the team and I was one of them. I was so happy that I was going to start this new chapter in my life and get to know more people.

Once school rolled around, I started feeling that same sense of being left out. Going from an extremely diverse school to a predominantly black school was difficult to adjust to. I always felt like I was too Mexican for the white kids, too white for the black kids and too Americanized for the Mexican kids. It was a vicious loop. As the year went by, I struggled to fit in anywhere but dance. Dance was my way of expressing how I felt. I had just left a school where I had many friends. After moving to my new school, I barely spoke to any of my friends. This had a huge effect on my mental health which caused me to start slacking in my schoolwork. At this point, I didn’t feel happy anywhere, not even in my own home. Come sophomore year I was depressed, and not even dance could help me. I’d come home crying and begging my mom to transfer me back to Dulles but there wasn’t anything she could do. She would tell me to make the most out of it and just focus on my grades and dance.

I was in a dark place, I felt abandoned, not even my best friend was there for me. She would rather hang out with her boyfriend than me. The worst part was that he didn’t want her to hang out with me because he told her I was a “whore”. When she told me what he said I was devastated, I couldn’t believe some guy was calling me such horrific names without even knowing me. His racism was what kept me and Kaylee apart, he didn’t like the fact that I liked black boys or that I went to a predominantly black school. I truly had no one to talk to, not even my family.

Knowing how my parents were, I was too scared to tell them how I felt in fear of them telling me I’m overreacting and that I have no reason to be depressed because I have food on my plate and a roof above my head. Instead of asking for help I bottled up my emotions and kept it to myself. I spent my days locked up in my room and refused to eat. At this point, I had lost 20 pounds in one month. To people I looked perfectly fine and happy but, on the inside, I was just rotting away. I hated the way I looked, the way I acted, I hated myself.

As junior year was approaching my grades went from C’s to A’s. The motivation I once had was starting to come back but even stronger than before. I reconnected with my friends Allie and Skyler and I began to make more friends because of them. Dance also helped me find my crowd. It wasn’t just a distraction at this point, dancing was fun and because of that, my team became like another family. The most influential person I met on the team was Ashlyn Sydney Gipson. She reminded me of the importance of self-worth and taught me to never let anybody walk over me. A sisterhood bond formed over the love of dance.

Although my social life was getting better, I still felt kind of lost. Mixed emotions filled my head daily. Was I happy? Was I sad? At that point, I had no clue. My initial thought was that my hormones were out of whack, so I just ignored it and went on about my year. The sound of the bell on the last day of school was like angels singing. That bell meant that as of that moment we were seniors and that summer was going to be the best one yet. I was finally happy and had lots of plans with my friends.

Throughout the summer I spent almost every day at the pool, I mean I was a lifeguard but even when I was off of work. If I wasn’t at the pool, then I was at Allie and Skyler’s house working on a tan or going on late night adventures. Even towards the end of the summer I still felt excited because that meant that this was going to be my last year of high school. The excitement of college was the only thing on my mind. My first week of senior year was a blast.

Towards the end of November, things started to feel rushed. I was so caught up on having fun that I forget that I had to take my SAT. Not only was I behind academically but I started to realize that I didn’t know what I was going to do in life. Somehow, I thought that the second I graduated I was going to be handed a slip telling me what I was supposed to become. I got accepted into Texas State and already had a roommate, but it still didn’t feel right. Was my happiness temporary? Why did I feel like a baby bird being pushed out of its nest with no clue that I had to fly? This wasn’t how I wanted things to go. I was supposed to graduate high school and have my career planned out so that I could make my father proud.

My whole life I was told that happiness was shown with a smile. What if underneath that smile was an unhappy person? No one told me that for one to truly be happy they had to be happy with themselves. This whole time I was letting what people said or thought about me affect my mental health. The key to my happiness.

[ A lot of things went through my mind while writing this memoir. When I first started the outline I wasn't being completely honest with myself. After doing some research I knew that for it to be a real memoir I had to be truthful. The outcome wasn't exactly what I expected but I think it came out alright. In the future, I could possibly see myself furthering this memoir, maybe even post more of my writing. ]

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years

Text

End of the Beginning

Step 12: Christmas in NOLA

@howeverlongs and @joey-prue

Warnings: some show typical violence, allusions to Damon’s treatment of Caroline, Darker!Klaus, alternate history and first meeting

Caroline tossed back a shot of vodka, relishing the burn of it. It wasn’t even quality vodka, but then she wasn’t drinking for the pleasure of it. She was drinking to get drunk. Well, as drunk as her vampire metabolism would allow.

Yesterday, she had honored the life her mother had lived. Flipped through old photo albums and allowed the memories to wash over her. Happiness, exasperation, fondness. Tidied up the house and boxed up all the knickknacks of sentimental value. Had the most important ones shipped to her current home. Even lingered carefully in the shadows as the Mystic Falls police department gave their former sheriff a proper send off.

But today was about the grief. Perhaps, had she been younger, not had some sixty years to come to terms with her mother’s mortality, the grief would have broken part of her. As it was, it hurt, but it was the bearable kind of hurt. The kind that she would carry with her, a new weight, but not the kind to pierce through her, it wouldn’t leave her bleeding.

Raising an arm, the blonde flagged down the bartender, requested another round of shots. She only had time to throw back one of them when she sensed another presence beside her. It was a vampire, though not an old one, potentially younger than her even.

Setting the glass down, Caroline turned, arching a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes?”

The seemingly young man looked a bit apologetic albeit firm as he requested she come with him. “I’m afraid all new vampires need to check in.”

She swallowed a scoff. There had been rumors that New Orleans had rather strict rules for the Supernatural community, but a summons of all things? That was a bit...archaic.

“Seriously?” She blurted. “I’m not planning to stay, only for the holidays.” And it was true. The rumors were one of the reasons she had avoided NOLA until now, but visiting had been on her mother’s bucket list. In fact, it had been their planned trip for Christmas, and though part of her twisted from the absence Caroline decided to go anyway. So she arrived the 23rd, gave herself the day to wallow, but firmly planned that the 24th and 25th would be full of every holiday attraction.

The man half-shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a bit much, but that’s the policy.”

Caroline sighed, stuck a hundred dollar bill under the glass, and followed the vampire out the door, making sure to snag her purse as they left.

“I’m Josh, by the way.”

Disgruntled, but not one to shoot the messenger, she offered her own name with only a hint of bite in her tone. “Caroline.”

“So, you’re lucky, the King had business elsewhere.” ‘King?’ Caroline silently mouthed, brow scrunching. Josh continued without pause, either oblivious to or expecting her reaction. “Either his protégé or his brother will see you and they’re both less...intense.”

She couldn't help herself. “Okay, but seriously, King? He calls himself the ‘King’?”

Josh actually stopped and turned to look at her, eyes surprisingly serious. He leaned in a bit closer, lowered his voice to his a whisper.

“You may think it’s ridiculous, and perhaps it is, but the King isn’t one for disrespect. I’ve seen him rip heads off for less than that. He may not be here, but he has a way of knowing things.”

Caroline frowned, but nodded. Europe had its share of old, pompous vampires, so she knew to hold her tongue. This certainly wasn’t worth dying over.

“Ah, you must be Caroline.” She looked up, eyes taking in the handsome black man before her, his teeth a brilliant white as he smiled at her. There was a cunning kind of charm to him, but he only felt a few centuries old at most. Tentatively, she marked him down as the protégé.

Standing she offered her hand with a practiced smile. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you…”

Giving it a firm shake, he nodded at her. “Marcel.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcel.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, looking innocent and nonthreatening. “So, Josh told me about the whole check-in thing. What does this entail exactly?”

“Nothing much, just a few questions. Your name, how long you’re staying, when and where you turned. Then, you’re free to go.”

Caroline slowly nodded, doubting that was the whole truth, but it was pretty basic information.

“Well, my name’s Caroline Forbes and I only plan to stay until Christmas is over, the 26th at the latest. I was turned about sixty years ago in Mystic Falls.”

Alarm raced down her spine at the way Marcel stiffened for a split second though his expression remained pleasant. Caroline had developed keen senses over the years, unusually sharp for a vampire of her age. She could feel that the air in the room had shifted. Something about what she had just said was more important than she had assumed.

In a moment, she realized why.

“Apologies, Miss Forbes.” Caroline whirled to face the voice, though careful not to completely turn her back on Marcel. It belonged to a brown-haired man bedecked in an outrageously expensive suit. She could feel the waves of power wafting off him, older than any she had felt before. Paired with the way he had appeared silently in the doorway, a terrible suspicion started burning in her gut. “I must ask that you remain here until my brother returns. He will wish to meet you.”

“Your brother?” She asked, wary and not really bothering to hide it. It seemed the time for facades was over.

“The King,” he said simply.

Not good. Josh hadn’t exactly given the man a glowing recommendation.

“And I suppose I can’t return to my hotel in the meantime?”

His lips quirked. “I’m afraid not, Miss Forbes.”

She barely resisted to the urge to rub her forehead in exasperation, though she used the feeling to beat back her instinctual fear. Now, wasn’t the time to panic.

“I see. I’m sorry, I haven’t caught your name?”

“It’s Elijah, Miss Forbes.”

She felt him watching her carefully, but she couldn’t control the way she froze. The way her heart stuttered a beat. How many ancient suit wearing vampires named Elijah could there be? She hoped it was at least two, but judging by their reactions if there were two, this wasn’t the second one.

That was the last thought she had before her world went black with a sharp crack.

“Pity,” Marcel muttered as Elijah hefted the fallen blonde from the floor. Her neck at an awkward angle.

When Caroline came to, not only did her neck have a lingering ache from being broken, but her wrists, arms, and shoulders felt strained as well. It didn’t take her long to realize she was chained, though she kept her eyes closed.

This was very, very not good.

“We never encountered her, Niklaus, I doubt she knows anything.”

There was a dark chuckle. “Please, with a last name like ‘Forbes’ and a noticeable reaction to your name? You know better than that, Elijah.”

There was a quiet sigh. “At least try to control yourself, brother.”

A whistle of air and Caroline knew one of them left. Elijah, if she had to guess.

Footsteps moved closer to her hanging form, the weight of the power accompanying them enormous.

“You did a commendable job not reacting to my name, sweetheart, but I know you’re awake.” The back of a finger stroked her cheek. “Even vampires have little tells when they return to consciousness.”

Caroline let her eyes open, face expressionless as she took in his smirking visage. The curve of his mouth invited while his eyes threatened, a glacier blue glinting wolf-gold. He was uncomfortably close to her, his knuckle still brushing the edge of her jaw.

She steeled herself and jerked her arms, letting the chains rattle. “Is this how you treat all your guests?” She bit out.

His eyes darkened, and he leaned closer, his nose just brushing hers. “Surely, Josh warned you of my intolerance for disrespect?”

Caroline lifted her chin as best as she could. “He did.” She smirked sardonically. “But you won’t kill me until I tell you whatever it is you want from me. And after that, what I do won’t sway your decision to kill me or not. So I refuse to spend my last moments begging for my life.”

He almost looked impressed before he seized her jaw.

“Brave little vampire,” he rumbled. “You are quite correct. But I assure you, I can make the agony of your death linger for decades. Centuries even.”

She swallowed, throat dry as she read the utter sincerity in his eyes. Falling silent, she didn’t provoke him more though she refused to apologize either.

He spent several long moments just observing her before he moved back a step, releasing her jaw. Arms crossed behind his back and a pleasant expression on his face, he’d seem ordinary if not for the sinister air about him.

“Now,” he uttered, pupils dilating, “tell me what you know of the Originals.”

The smart decision would be to act compelled. But she honestly wasn’t sure how good of an actress she was, nor what orders an infamous nightmare like Klaus would give her. Besides, a part of her rebelled at the idea of capitulating to compulsion of all things. He may kill her. Torture her even. But she refused to be twisted up into a caricature of herself, living in constant fear of something endlessly stronger than herself. Refused to have her choices ripped from her a second time.

She licked her lips, held his gaze as she carefully spoke. “I will answer all your questions, but I will not be compelled. Not by you. Not by anyone.” Not again.

In an instant, Klaus was pressed against her. His fingers weaving through her hair and yanking her head to the side, burying his nose in the curve of her neck. A split second later fire ran through her veins, his venomous teeth tearing through the delicate flesh there. She felt every agonizing pull the Original took of her blood, slumping in her bonds as he stepped away.

“There’s truly no vervain in your system. How curious.”

Caroline strained to lift her head, the rapid effects of his bite as startling as they were frightening. Her vision was starting to blur, but he appeared almost contemplative as he returned her stare.

To her shock, he bit into his wrist, pressing the wound to her lips. It was like sin on her tongue, its power alleviating the burn and knitting her skin back together after only one sip.

He watched her drink, eyes glinting with intrigue. “You and I have more to discuss than I thought, Caroline.”

AN: So, this one kinda lacked the Christmas angle, though it was technically Christmas Eve...

In terms of history, Caroline had a rocky relationship with her parents after turning, but eventually they accepted her. Bill even taught her to resist compulsion.

#12KCXMAS #Klaroline Shippers Club #Klaroline #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #My Writing

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hellas-himself · 5 years

Text

Ch. 4 Noche Buena

Ch. 3

After the death of his father, Azriel is forced to go back to the one place he swore he’d never return to. But he finds himself quite literally face to face with his past, one that he had not let himself think of since he’d left.

Ch. 5

I woke up because I heard pots crash on the floor. I sat up, finding Elain trying and failing at pushing the pots back into the cabinet. She had Christmas music going and at least three candles lit that smelled like cinnamon.

And she was wearing my shirt.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice raspy. I had the good sense to pull the blanket over me. She turned and looked at me, a smile on her face.

“Good morning.” She blushed.

“You’re not working today?”

“The church is doing their annual Christmas thing today so they’ll be down there. I usually help but I’m pretty tired.”

I smirked, which only made her blush deepen. She waved me off.

“Go wash up. I’m making breakfast.”

“You sure you don’t need me to teach those pots a lesson?”

She laughed, pushing against the cabinet doors. “No. I got this.”

“Don’t start without me,” I said and got out of bed, taking the blanket with me. I laughed when I heard her whistle as I walked to the bathroom.

Of course she was already mixing pancake batter when I walked out. She made a pouty face as I went to stand behind her. I put my hands on her waist and she leaned back against me.

“I think I like you better with no clothes on,” she said. I laughed.

“That can be arranged.”

“Hm… Tempting, but I’m hungry. And I have a lot of baking to do today.”

“Baking?”

“I bake cookies for everyone.”

“Define everyone.”

“Everyone downstairs goes home with cookies tonight.”

“You do this every year?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I do anything else on Christmas,” she said and then let out a sigh. “I’m usually alone this time of year. I tend to over do it so I don’t notice it too much.”

I pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I know the feeling.”

“Go see what’s on Hallmark. Then you can set the table.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Stop that.”

She elbowed me and I walked away laughing.

We had breakfast on the sofa, Elain shoving her feet under my legs instead of using the blanket I’d brought over because she was cold. The movie was cheesy but she was smiling and I thought I caught her crying at one point. But I didn’t say anything about it. I was just grateful to be there with her.

“What exactly do you do on Christmas?” she asked, setting her plate on the floor and sitting back, hands on her belly.

“Nothing.”

“New Year’s?”

“I visit my parents.”

“And Three Kings’ Day?”

“I work.”

“Wow… And I thought I was boring.”

When I scowled she laughed.

“I’m kidding.”

“Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes I wish things were different. That I could just get up and go wherever I wanted when I felt like it. But my sisters don’t have to choose between a plane ticket or paying taxes for their business. And I know they’d send for me in a heartbeat… But then Nuala would miss out on being with Cerridwen. I can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t they come here?”

She shook her head. “It was… ugly the last time Nesta came here. Feyre wasn’t so bad but I can’t stand being looked at like I’m some kind of porcelain doll.”

“When are you opening the diner again?”

“The day after Christmas. Why?”

“Do you want to go see your sisters?”

“How?”

“We’d have to drive into Velaris but I can get us on a plane before the night is out.”

“Az… that’s too much.”

“We can come back here and celebrate Las Octavitas together. I’ll give you Christmas until the middle of January.”

She laughed at that.

“You would really do that?”

“For you? Anything.”

After baking unholy amounts of cookies, and giving them to everyone downstairs, Elain and I got in my SUV and drove out of Illyria and headed towards Velaris. She slept most of the way and didn’t wake up until the city lights roused her from sleep. She was grinning, despite it being well after midnight, looking around at the brightly lit city I called home. I didn’t even stop at my house, heading straight to the airport. It was a four hour flight to the coast where our mother lived, a city of nearly perpetual summer.

“How did you manage to get a flight out?” she asked as we hurried through the airport.

“I know people.”

“Yes, but how?”

I laughed. “I may have used my position at work to get us out of here.”

We avoided security, and I was grateful for my stupid badge for the first time since Rhys hired me on. Elain was blushing the whole time, especially when she saw the people waiting at the gates.

“No one lost their seat,” I assured her. “I promise.”

We both slept the entire flight and I woke up only because I heard the pilot announcing our landing. It took a few tries and I might have snuck a kiss or two when the flight attendant wasn’t looking, but I woke up Elain just in time for us to get off. We only had our carry-on bags; my backpack and duffle bag, the laptop case and her own bag. We were able to rush outside and catch our Uber. It was humid, my hair already starting to curl by the time we made it to the white manses near the coast. Elain was wide awake, looking at the fishermen in the docks, the sun glistening off the sea.

“What made your parents come here?” she asked.

“Tarquin’s family are modern day royalty here. After the life our father lived, retiring here was a given. Plus, living in the mountains of Illyria was bleak compared to this. My mother loves it here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Wait till you see the house.”

She smiled, reaching out for my hand. It was comforting, and we didn’t let go until the enormous white estate came in to view.

“Did you tell them we were coming?” she asked as I helped her out of the car.

“No.”

I tipped the driver and carried all of our bags, leading Elain to the front door. I rang the door bell and then took Elain’s hand in mine, suddenly feeling rather sick to my stomach. I could hear my mother telling Rhys to sit his ass down, and for Cassian to stop hogging all the orange juice. Elain squeezed my hand and I imagined she was just as nervous as I felt.

“I swear to god if you two don’t cut the shit-” My mother stopped as she realized I was standing there. Her violet eyes were soon brimming with tears.

“Mom, what is it?” Cas shouted from the dining room. Something like a sob escaped her mouth and she was crushing me against her before I even knew what was happening.

She was muttering things in Spanish and I saw Cassian walk to the entrance hall.

“Holy shit! Az is home!” he shouted and once he saw Elain, I never saw that man move so fast in my life. He lifted her up and spun her around, making her laugh. I heard Feyre and Nesta realizing their sister was here, Rhys was rushing out to where we were standing and I was hugged and kissed within an inch of my life until our father came down the steps. He smiled when he saw me and everyone let Elain and I breathe to let him come say hello.

My brothers took our bags and Elain was pulled inside by her sisters. My mother led me to the dining room where my seat was unoccupied. Elain and I discarded our jackets and Feyre gave Elain a hair tie so she could put her hair up.

“We were just about to start breakfast,” my mother said, giving me a smile as she sat down.

“Thank god,” I said. “I’m starving.”

Elain turned red in the face. “Yeah… Me, too.”

“How are you here?” Nesta asked, a softness to her features that I’d never known she was capable of.

“Well… Business is good and I was able to take time off,” Elain said and looked over at me.

“Oh, uh, yeah… I’m off until after Reyes,” I said.

“Does that mean you’ll be home for Christmas?” my mother asked and I just shrugged. I didn’t think anyone could smile that bright… Well, not until Elain was smiling at me.

“And you came together?” Cas asked, wiggling his eye brows. Nesta rolled her eyes.

“We did,” Elain said, and she never looked more like Nesta in that moment. It made me laugh.

“Together, together?” Feyre asked with a sly grin.

“Elain,” my mother said softly, “We were all going down shore for a bit. Did you bring a bathing suit?”

“Uh, no…”

“She can borrow mine,” Feyre offered quickly. “Rhys got me a really pretty dress I wanted to wear today.”

My brother ate it up, even if it was true. He looked at her as if they’d only gotten married yesterday.

“Dad’s bringing the cuatro out,” Cas said and our father rolled his eyes.

“It’s Noche Buena, and Azrielito is home. We’re doing it right.”

I sighed, even if I couldn’t stop smiling.

Elain walked down the stairs wearing Feyre’s black two piece, her sisters following behind her. Nesta was too busy fussing over Feyre to notice me staring at Elain.

“This is so small,” she whispered as she took my hand.

“I like it,” I whispered back.

“Of course, you do. But it’s my sister’s,” she said and pulled on my arm so we could start following my parents outside.

I didn’t let go of her hand until I went to help my brothers get the blanket down and mom’s umbrella set up. The cooler was full of beer and water and one really big bottle of coquito. Before I knew it, Elain was approaching me with a bottle of sunscreen. I held my hand out thinking she wanted me to help her but she put some on her hand and tucked the bottle in the crook of her arm.

“They’re not going to get any worse,” I said as she massaged the sunscreen over my scarred hands.

“That’s not a reason to not take care of them,” she said.

“Whatever you say, darling,” I said in imitation of Rhys who was currently covering Feyre’s face in kisses while she laughed and Cas made sounds of disgust.

Elain rolled her eyes. I still remembered the first time we’d met, when she’d seen my hands. I had expected disgust, or even pity. But she’d just put her hands beneath mine, as if to hold them up and called them beautiful. There had been no punch line, no teasing… She’d meant it. With that in mind, I kissed her, leaving her blushing when we parted to breathe.

“What was that for?” she asked. I put my hands on her waist and smiled.

“I feel lucky… that’s all.”

She smirked but got on her tip toes to kiss me, even as Cas whistled.

Feyre called Elain over to take a picture with her and Nesta, leaving me at the mercy of my brothers who were now coming over to where I was. Our father was sitting beside our mother, pouring her a drink.

“About damn time,” Cas said, throwing an arm around my shoulder as he looked over to where the girls were.

“What are you talking about?”

“Elain Archeron, dumb ass,” Cas replied and I elbowed him.

“Don’t start.”

“Oh come on, everyone knows you two would always end up together.”

“I’m afraid he’s right, hermanito,” Rhys drawled.

“Don’t bother her,” I warned them. Rhys put a hand to his chest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The water was colder than I expected it to be, but everyone save Feyre and my mother went swimming. They were both sharing a mango when everyone stopped to eat. Elain sat down next to me, towel wrapped around her shoulders.

“Play something,” mom said to our father but he handed me the cuatro.

“How about a song or two for your viejo, eh?”

“It’s… It’s been a while.”

It was already tuned up and I let out a sigh. He had taught me to play to help me retain movement and use of my hands after what happened. But it had always been the two of us, sometimes Rhys who would sing… So, with a grin, I looked at my brother whose eyes widened as I started to play. Cassian chuckled and poked Rhys in the ribs.

“Come on,” Cas teased. Rhys grimaced and looked at Feyre who waved him on. So Rhys started to sing once our father finished the introduction, as he always had. Elain was watching me, Nesta and Feyre completely taken with their spouses. My mother was in tears again and I gave her a smile, even as she started taking pictures and Feyre was no doubt recording it.

Before we had finished, Tarquin arrived with his family and had brought with him a small set of congas and we were all singing and playing music. Passing around coquito until the bottle was empty.

We all headed back to the house, Tarquin promising to come over for dinner. Elain had almost managed to pull me into the bathroom with her to shower, but then Nesta walked into the hallway and Elain pushed me out instead. I could hear her laughing and Nesta gave me a death glare that I felt all the way to my room.

Elain joined my dad and Cassian in the kitchen while my mother pulled me upstairs with her.

“Tell me, how did it go?” she asked as she went to her closet. I already knew what she meant. I sighed, taking a seat on the ottoman by her bed.

“It went… alright. He’d kept some of her things and the lawyer needed me to pick it up before the house was sold.”

“Hm… What did she leave you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I haven’t looked.”

She looked from out of her closet and gave me such a look of disbelief I saw where Rhys got his theatrics from.

“What? I ran into Elain and I just… forgot.”

“Right… Did you finally ask her to be your girlfriend?” she asked as she disappeared again. “Or are you waiting for some other sangano to waste her time?”

“Ma!”

I could hear her laughing. Then she walked out wearing a red dress, her black curls high up on her head.

“I’m happy you’re home,” she said as she came to sit with me.

“Honestly,” I said. “So am I.”

When she touched my hand, I inhaled sharply, but I still turned my hand palm up to hold hers.

“I know that you were always afraid of hurting her feelings,” she said quietly. “And I promise I took no offense… I was lucky to have been trusted with you, Lito… You and Cassian were everything I ever wanted. You completed this family.”

She kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of it. She had always been this way, from the first day the social worker brought me to their home. I was never forced to do anything I didn’t want to. She didn’t ask me to call her mom, but she always called me hers, as Rhys and Cassian were hers. They took me to therapy, to doctors’ appointments. Gave me my space when I needed it, and with godly patience, showed me what it was to be affectionate.

“I love you,” I whispered to her and I heard her sigh. “And I’m sorry… You didn’t deserve this.”

“You’re here now,” she said, reminding me of Elain. “That’s what matters.”

Las Octavitas is basically more Christmas celebration in Puerto Rico.

The cuatro is smaller than a guitar and sounds like this. That song in the link is also what I imagined Rhys singing with his family. ;)

Everyone knows what coquito is right? If not, it’s a rum and coconut drink made every holiday season. It’s a must.

Hermanito literally means little brother. sometimes shortened to “manito” jsyk

Viejo means old man. In this instance, an endearing way to say dad.

lol Sangano means idiot. There are plenty of colorful ways to insult Grayson in Spanish but we’ll keep it pg.

@dreamerforever-5 @fireheart-of-your-dreams

Happy Three Kings’ Day!

#elriel #elriel holiday au #noche buena #dia de reyes

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