#excited to get around to replaying it... i opened it to check the version and the title screen felt like it was playing a siren song at me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aereres · 4 years ago

Text

Still Into You - Mitch Marner

Summary: When Y/N agreed to join her older brother at the Marners' for Christmas, she didn't expect to find herself infatuated with her brother's best friend all over again.

A/N: I am so excited to post this ngl... Anons, here’s the Mitch fic!

Word Count: 3,4k

Warnings: drinking, maybe some swear words, lots of teasing and flirting, maybe some angst?

"God, this is bringing back High School memories," Andrew mumbled under his breath, a smile on his lips as he drove through the snowy streets. The landscape was a mixture of tall trees and mountains, some clouds blocking the view of their peaks.

"You guys came here often?" You asked your brother, noticing a rather large house just a few miles away.

"Every summer," Andrew said, taking another turn as he gave you a quick look. "We used to throw the biggest parties ever, before Marner left,"

"And you didn't even invite me," you tsked, pushing your beanie on the top of your head when he pulled up inside a driveway, your eyes scanning the fancy mountain house before you.

"Try to be nice, okay?" Andrew warned you, pointing a finger your way as he left the car. You lifted up your middle finger when he turned your back to you to knock on the front door, and you finally left the car to grab your bags.

"Oh my God, Andy! Hi!" You recognized Bonnie's voice, a smile forming on your lips as you looked at your long-time family friend hugging your brother tightly. "I haven't seen you in ages,"

"Hi, Bonnie," your brother chuckled, gently pulling back to hug her husband. His smile grew even larger when Mitch appeared, the two best friends finding themselves in a tight embrace as they laughed in chorus.

"Oh, Y/N," Bonnie sighed happily, pulling you in a hug and kissing the top of your head lightly. "I'm so happy you could make it, honey,"

"Thank you for having me," you smiled, hugging Paul when he greeted you. You met Mitch's eyes, a smile forming on your lips as you found yourself in front of the old friend. His features had changed from the last time you'd seen him, he was built, and he definitely looked taller. His smile was still the same, though. The one you had loved so much.

"Hi," he said lightly, opening his arms for you, letting you go after a couple of seconds. You took in the insides of the house: the tall Christmas tree, the fireplace in the living room, the large windows, and the soft lights that illuminated the various rooms. It felt... cozy.

"Anyone wants hot chocolate?"

-----

Mitch was trying to keep his eyes off of you. The light of the fireplace was hitting your body just right, and he could have sworn you were the prettiest sight on earth. It had been years since he had last seen you, leaving you with a quick 'goodbye' and an excited smile on his face.

It had been the night before the draft, he could still remember it. He said goodbye to all his friends, left the girl he was seeing with a kiss, and came to see Andrew one last time. You had happened to stand by the doorway, catching the last few glimpses of their bone-crushing hug as they laughed. Mitch had walked past you, ruffling your hair with a chuckle before walking towards the front door of your door to go back home, ready for his new start.

Since then, he had barely spent time home, missing not only the growth of his entire family, but also of his closest friends which, in some ways, involved you, too.

The braces you had once worn were gone, your short hair had become long, framing your face in the best possible way, and your younger version had left to let the new you take over. You were a sight to see.

"Marner, eyes on the game," Andrew snapped him out of his trance, tapping his thigh with his controller and pointing at the TV. His best friend had beaten him another time, making him scoff softly.

"Man, and I thought I got better at videogames," Mitch joked, slipping his phone out of his pocket to check some messages. Andrew stood up, stretched for a couple of seconds, and looked at his sister.

"I'm going to bed," he stated, running a hand through his dark hair. "We gotta throw a party, man, like the old times,"

"Sure," Mitch mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he saw the little smile that formed on your lips. "I'll try to find a way to get my parents out of here,"

"Cool," Andrew said, ruffling your hair and making you scoff softly before leaving the room with a small 'goodnight'. Silence grew between you and Mitch as you kept your eyes trained on your book, your heart beating out of your chest.

"It's been a while," he admitted, running a hand through his hair as his eyes found the fireplace. "I've missed you,"

You smiled softly, looking up at him as you shut the book. "Everyone missed you, around here," you chuckled. "How's the big NHL life going?"

"Busy," he sighed, letting his neck lean against the back of the couch and close his eyes. "Just constantly training and having games, but it's rewarding. School?"

"Dropped out of college," you chuckled. "I mean, now I got a job, so it's not that big of a deal,"

"Oh wow," Mitch teased, stealing your book and smirking your way. "So, nerdy Y/N is telling me she dropped out of college?"

"I wasn't nerdy," you mumbled as you tried to reach for your novel, stepping on the tip of your toes and following him around the living room. He let you get your book, his hands placing themselves against the wall behind you, caging you between his arms and the nearest wall.

"Oh really?" He whispered in your ear, your body so close to his you could feel his warmth. His nose touched yours, the smirk still painting his lips as his hazel orbs stared deep into yours. "Your glasses were cute, back then,"

The noise of a door opening made him scramble away from you, your brother's heavy steps making their way down the stairs. "God, I am thirsty," Andrew mumbled under his breath, totally not realizing what had been happening just seconds prior.

"I-I'm going to bed," you stuttered, gathering your things and letting your adrenaline-filled body lift itself up from the couch. "Goodnight,"

You didn't register their answers as you made your way to the guest bedroom as quickly as you could, shutting the door and sliding your back against it. Your breathing was heavy, hands shaking as the events replayed in your head. Mitch was just so close, his words just so teasing, he had you wrapped around his fingers.

But you were so sure you had moved on, you were so sure that your tiny, stupid crush on him had been over when he'd left, when many other girls had started to gain his attention. You were sure that you had been over what once was a teenage crush on your brother's best friend.

You clearly were not.

-----

The lights of the lampposts outside the mountain house reflected inside Mitch's room. He had been lying awake for what felt like hours, his thoughts making it impossible for him to sleep. Three days into the Christmas getaway and things were already going messy for him.

The vacation was supposed to bring him out of the chaos and anxiety that filled his head, to make him relax, to let all the stress that was his normal life aside for a couple of weeks. Yet, his love life had decided to make an appearance, turning his plans into old, stupid thoughts.

You had left his mind when he got drafted, he was going to be honest. He didn't expect to feel the exact way about you as he felt when he was a teen, he didn't expect his old crush to come back when he saw you after all those years.

The feelings inside his body were foreign, from the way his heart would start beating loudly when he'd see you around the house, to the way his fingers would tingle after he'd touch your skin. He couldn't understand his own body, and it frustrated him.

He felt as if he was standing in the middle of an empty, dark room, where he couldn't understand what was happening around him and to him. He was confused, and he needed to know what he was feeling for you, what his heart needed.

He closed his eyes, fisting the bedsheets as he clenched his jaw.

Mitchell Marner hated being confused.

-----

Mitch skated slowly on top of the iced lake, puffs of warmth leaving his mouth as he and your brother passed each other a puck, just like the old times. Mitch was laughing loudly, throwing his head back at something Andrew had said, his rosy cheeks looking as adorable as you remembered them.

Bonnie handed you a cup of warm tea before going back to the living room, leaving you to stand by the backdoor to look at the boys. Mitch's eyes caught yours as he skated around, a small smile never leaving his lips as he got off the ice, Andrew following right in tow.

"Damn, it's cold out there," Andrew mumbled while they got rid of their skates. Your brother walked past you to reach the fireplace, your eyes finding Mitch before you moved towards the kitchen.

You grabbed the sugar container and a spoon, turning your back to the entryway and getting deep inside your thoughts. A hand on your hip brought you back to real life, the feeling of a firm chest against your back making chills run up your spine. You spun around to face Mitch, your hands flattening against his chest.

"What are you doing, Mitch?!" You whisper yelled.

"Just, you know, reaching for a mug," he said, the smirk you knew too well adorning his features. "What are you doing, princess?"

You fluttered at the name, biting on your bottom lip as he kept his body close to yours. Your mind went into overdrive, thoughts filling your head as you got lost in his pretty eyes. You needed to understand.

He pushed a stray hair behind your ear, smiling at you when you blushed lightly. "Mitch, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's-" you motioned between your bodies. "What's this? You leave me hanging, tease me,"

"Ever heard of flirting, Y/N? Or is Andrew that protective?" Mitch smirked, watching you bite on your bottom lip as you looked at him. "I could tell you had a crush on me when we were kids, and maybe now it's slowly getting mutual,"

You looked at him in shock as he moved around the kitchen, filling up his mug with tea, adding some sugar to it, grabbing a snack. "You-"

"I mean, I saw you as a little sister back then just because I didn't want to fuck things up with Andy," he said, leaning against the counter to look your way, his smirk replaced with a small, soft smile. "But now we grew up, Andrew has more important things to focus on, and you can't stop leaving my mind,"

He leaned down to place a lingering kiss on your cheek, making you heat up and gasp softly as he grabbed his mug. "Gotta go, now," he smirked your way. "Oh, and we're throwing that party on Thursday,"

Thursday. Christmas Eve.

"Alright," you sighed out, your heart beating out of your chest. He sent you a wink as he left the kitchen, your body still buzzing from his contact. You took some time to get yourself back together, biting on your lip before you made your way towards the living room, joining your brother and the Marners.

'Home Alone' was playing on the TV when you took place next to Andrew on the couch, picking at the skin around your nails as your long-forgotten tea sat in front of you.

"You okay?" Andrew asked, his eyes scanning your features before settling back on the TV. "You've been weird these past few days,"

"I'm fine. Just missing home, I guess," you mumbled, feeling Mitch's eyes on you, already knowing he was smirking. You almost groaned out loud at the thought of him having you wrapped around his fingers, at the thought of being so at his mercy.

"You'll be fine, you just need to relax," Andrew sighed. "The party this Thursday will probably make you feel better,"

You nodded your head absentmindedly, not noticing your brother's worried glare as you silently kept your eyes on the TV. You zoned out, the laughter from your companions becoming background noise as you fell back into your train of thoughts.

The trip was supposed to be a way to relax, and yet, there you were: panicking over Mitchell Marner. Your brother's best friend. Everything about what was happening was wrong, starting off with the fact that Andrew and Mitch had been friends since day one.

"You just need to relax," were Andrew's words, the ones that were playing on repeat in your mind. And what better way to relax than to join the party? Cute guys, drinks, music. It would have been enough to calm you down and figure things out with Mitch.

There was no way you'd miss the party.

-----

Mitch was deep in his thoughts, his phone pressed against his ear as he looked out of the window. Auston was talking about something that had happened to his sister the day prior, laughter coming from his side as Mitch looked at the snow.

"Man, you're never this silent," Auston sighed, making Mitch shut his eyes and bite back a groan. "I know something's happening, so spill,"

"You better not tell a soul," Mitch said, biting his nails. Auston tsked from the other side of the line, urging his best friend to finally start talking. "Alright, you remember Andrew? My friend from home?"

"Yeah,"

"He's with us for Christmas, and-" Mitch sighed softly, getting ready for his teammate's endless teasing. "And his sister is over, too,"

"Oh, God. You like her, don't you?" Auston whisper-yelled. Mitch was silent, which brought his best friend to conclusions. "Mitch, your best friend's little sister?!"

"I've liked her for years, but I've settled for other girls because of her brother," Mitch explained, rubbing his forehead as he tried to explain the situation better. "But now she's back, looking as pretty as ever, and I just can't help it,"

Silence came from Auston's line, making Mitch's heart beat a little faster than usual. "Aus?"

"I mean, I know you like her, and I know you wouldn't try to break her heart or mess your friendship up," Auston sighed. "Just- be careful, Marner,"

"Uh- yeah," Mitch mumbled.

There was a beat, silence being the only thing coming from both lines. "I gotta go now, man," Auston sighed. "I'll see you soon, okay? Don't fuck things up and ask her out,"

"Alright, bye," Mitch said, ending the call and letting his body fall on his bed. Surely, catching feelings for his best friend's younger sister had been a problem from the start, but he was sure. He was sure that, that time, it wasn't going to be just a game.

-----

The loud bass was enough to snap you out of your thoughts, making you take one last look at yourself in the mirror before leaving your room. People were already crowding the living room, the smell of sweat and alcohol reaching your nostrils and making you wince softly.

You took in some of the familiar faces while you slowly made your way towards the kitchen, your only goal being getting yourself a drink.

The countertop had been transformed into a makeshift bar, different types of alcohol sitting on top of it, waiting to be used. You poured yourself something heavy, just the right mixture that could make you forget about the events of the previous week.

Your eyes fell on the people in the living room, especially on Andrew, who was dancing with a random girl. Next to him stood Mitch, his arms wrapped around two different girls, his large smile on his lips.

Your stomach churned, jealousy taking over you as you stumbled across the house and reached the improvised dance floor. You swayed your hips to the music mindlessly, hoping you'd catch someone's attention and, hopefully, give Mitch a taste of his own medicine.

A pair of hands settled on your hips soon after, resting against the soft material of your skirt and pulling you to a warm body. The stranger's lips were close to your neck, his breath fanning against your shoulder as you moved against him. Wrapping your arms around him, you kept your movements sensual and teasing, your own hands running over your curves and feeling yourself up.

What was supposed to be just one song turned into two, another body taking its place behind you and dancing with you as you lost the concept of time. When you looked around and noticed that Mitch had gone missing, you fell back into your senses, throwing your empty cup inside the closest bin.

As you wandered around the house, you took notice of the people surrounding you, from the beautiful girls, to the boys you swore everyone had a crush on in High School. In the corner stood your brother, a shorter girl wrapped in his arms as the two made out, his hands dangerously close to her ass.

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you grabbed your coat, ready to head out to take a breather and chill down. As you stepped outside, you noticed the sound of the hot tub, a long sigh leaving your lips as your heated face met the cold air.

"Hot inside, huh?"

You snapped your head around, noticing Mitch's body inside the warm water, his eyes closed as he talked to you.

"Uh- yeah," you mumbled, biting on your lip as your eyes ran over his tattoos, his strong chest, his muscled thighs.

"You should come in, it feels great after dancing,"

"I'll die of hypothermia, Marner," you scoffed, turning back around to face the view of the mountains, the snow already making your feet cold. "And I don't have a swimming suit with me,"

"I'll keep you warm, Y/N," he smirked, running a hand through his hair. "Just- sit on the edge, I know you're starting to freeze,"

You rolled your eyes, awkwardly walking towards the tub and taking place on the warm edge. You took off your shoes and let your feet fall inside the warm water, a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

"See? I told you you would be just fine," he said, his hand toying with the hem of your skirt absentmindedly.

"What are you doing here, Mitch? This is your party,"

"Got bored, I guess," he mumbled. "And I didn't want to see you with those douches all over you,"

You chuckled coldly, wrapping your arms around your middle to keep yourself warm. "You were all over those girls, I had to give you a taste of your own medicine,"

He laughed under his breath, his hazel eyes finally meeting yours. "There's nothing holding us back, why are we playing hard to get?"

"I don't know," you whispered, your toes grazing the skin of his thigh as you moved around. "I don't understand if you're doing this for fun or if you want me for good, I can't have my heart broken again,"

Mitch looked in front of himself for a second, facing the mountains and the snow that surrounded him before looking back at you. "There has always been something about you, ever since we were kids. I've always tried to push it back because of Andrew, but now, after all these years, I can't just help it anymore,"

You looked at him, squealing when his hands found your smaller back and brought you inside the water, positioning your body on his lap. "I know that you deserve better than me, that you deserve someone who's always present and there for you, but maybe things will finally work out for us,"

"Mitch, just-" you whispered, closing your eyes as you took in his words. "Don't break my heart,"

He leaned in, his promise embedded in his kiss as he let his body lean into yours. Your hands found his cheeks, holding him close to you as you melted into his arms, the whole world around you disappearing. The music that was playing inside the house vanished, and so did the people, leaving only Mitch and you in your own universe.

You pulled away only when your lungs started to hurt, screaming at you to breathe in some air. Your eyes stayed closed as your forehead rested against Mitch's, his hands soft against your skin. "I won't," he whispered, his swollen lips brushing against yours.

"I promise I won't,"

Taglist: @thirsthy-bitch @bellaguarneri @celestialblae

#mitch marner x reader #mitch marner #mitch marner fic

232 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

Note

thoughts on Bela///Donna?

What a lovely can of worms you've placed in my inbox, dear nonnie. I cannot wait to open it and lose followers (regardless of what I actually say).

Since this is, uh, a subject of some debate among RE8 fans, I will be inputting my thoughts on the idea of the ship (and the possible controversy), as opposed to doing HCs or something for it (which I recognize might be what you were asking for, despite the excessive /s).

This is all based on my playthroughs of the game, as well as what I've managed to double check on the fandom/wiki for it. I know that a lot of people who read fanfic for the game haven't actually played it, likely having been lured in by Tall Vampire Milf, and so I hope that some people will be open to a reminder of, like, canon vs fanon? I've mentioned in a previous post that there's a lot of details for RE8 that are not made clear, and I feel the need to reiterate that in this post. Capcom left a lot of stuff up to people's imaginations, or kind of just hinted at in game or in concept art.

But more importantly, regardless of what game we're talking about, regardless of the conclusion I come to (and the one you come to) at the end of this post, I want to say that I absolutely understand the need/desire to have your own perspective/take on the characters from the game, as well as their dynamics. If a ship makes you uncomfortable because you see the characters as being family members, it's totally okay. Block the ship tag, or filter it out when you look through fandom stuff, don't follow people who post for it, etc, etc.

If you think of characters as being family-family (like, not just "we got married and are now a family" but, like, "we're siblings/parent and child") and still ship them? uh. sorry, bruv, maybe think of hitting that unfollow button. No, seriously, hit that unfollow button. This blog is anti-incest, thank you very much.

The last thing I'll say before putting it under a read-more (for both length and major RE8 spoilers) is that I recognize that I might have missed something, either in game or developers talking about things on social media, and so if you read through this and go "god, J, you're such a dumbass for forgetting *critical piece of media*" or even just "okay but have you seen *small but meaningful piece of media*?" please. Just. Please. Tell me. Link me to that shit. I WANT to know if I'm wrong. I've literally avoided talking about this for as long as I could in order to TRY and make sure I have all the context I need.

With that said, let's examine what context we are given for Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, and their relations to each other. I will be leaving my personal thoughts on Bela///Donna at the very end of this, as somewhat of a conclusion, somewhat of just a "hey, this is what you technically asked me about".

Firstly, let me begin by explaining what I consider to be the 3 tiers of "canon"

In-Game/Direct: The highest, truest tier, the definitive canon. This is everything that takes place in game, excluding certain hallucination scenes (ex: Mia was not really in House Beneviento, but we can infer some things from what Donna made Ethan hallucinate about). Things either happen, or are directly stated by characters. There's some wiggle room for dialogue, as characters can lie, but overall we, as the audience, assume we are being told the truth. At the very least, games usually eventually make it clear when a character has been dishonest. Examples of Direct Canon include the following: Ethan is infected with the mold, Lady Dimitrescu drinks blood, Heisenberg wears sunglasses, Mother Miranda can shapeshift.

Concept Art/Developer's Notes/Indirect: Mid-tier and debatable, the "we think, but we're not sure" of canon. Resident Evil: Village contains lots of concept art that the players can browse through, all of which include notes from the developers about the game, characters, environments, and story. Sometimes the notes make something "direct", but oftentimes they do not specify whether the listed idea is still canon or if it was removed during development. This tier also includes information that is implied/can be inferred from tier 1 information, but is not directly stated. Examples of Indirect Canon include the following: Donna's mother died by suicide, Moreau was going to have his lover fused to his back, Duke was originally a fifth lord, Heisenberg was going to have a twin. As you can see, not all of the concept art ideas made it into the final version of the game, so it can be hard when some information seems like it might still be true (such as the matter of Donna's parents).

Fanon/"False": Sometimes collective ideas in a fandom become so widespread that people start interpreting them as actual canon. Sometimes it gets hard to remember what's just obscure lore and what's fanon. When we get a piece of fiction as overall vague as a lot of Resident Evil: Village is, there's bound to be some confusion over time. That's one of the main reasons I waited to talk about Bela////Donna until after I had recently replayed relevant sections of the game, as I wanted to remind myself of what we're actually told. Examples of False Canon are difficult to pinpoint, but might include things like: Hufflepuffs are good at finding things? The Avengers got along for awhile and all had their own rooms in the tower? There's a number scale for the danger level of ghosts in Danny Phantom?

For this post, I will be limiting the majority of my notes to the first two levels of canon, and will do my best to mark them as such. Now... let us... begin.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Born no later than 1914, Alcina Dimitrescu was 44 years old when she was granted the Cadou by Mother Miranda. (1st Tier: Canon. Source: A note in the castle basement from a servant is dated 1958, and mentions both Alcina and her children. Secondly, Miranda's experiment notes state that Alcina was the 181st subject, and was given the Cadou at age 44. By doing math, we can then determine the earliest Alcina could have been born.)

Alcina refers to the other Lords as her family once without any disdain (when Ethan first arrives at the castle and is caught, Alcina says "you've escaped my little brother"). In a private journal (located near where she threw the infamous vanity) she insults the other Lords, and expresses anger that she is "treated like a sister to them". She argues with Heisenberg without any hesitation, and seems honest in her hatred of him (per Maggie Robertson's wunderbar performance). (1st Tier/2nd Tier: Canon with a sprinkle of interpretation for the last line)

Alcina openly refers to Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela as her daughters, and wrote in her experiment journal that she felt instantly connected to them (as mother and daughters). (1st Tier: Canon).

Bela Dimitrescu:

Likely born in the 1930's or 1940's, in order to be an adult by 1958 (the first dated appearance of the Dimitrescu daughters). (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Dialogue shows that all three of the daughters do love their mother, and reinforces the bond Alcina's journal mentions. (1st Tier: Canon)

We are not given any information about how Bela feels about the other Lords, or even what she knows about them. Once can assume that she shares the ideas of her mother, either because Alcina tells her things directly, or because Bela (who is eager to please her mother) picks up on them over time. (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Donna Beneviento:

No idea when she was born. If you've read one of my recent posts, then you know that it's almost entirely a matter of 2nd and 3rd tier canon.

Of the four lords, Donna seems to have the most story within the 2nd tier, and has very, very little in the 1st tier. Duke says she's somewhat isolated, and that her "playmates" never leave the house. Miranda's notes state that Donna is mentally ill, and the gardener's diary states/implies (bit of both) that Donna has severe social anxiety. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

Supposedly, her parents committed suicide while she was still a child. This is indicated in concept art/the attached developer's notes. However, the only part that's also directly stated in game is that her parents (specifically her father) died while she was young. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

While Donna only has one voice line in the game (and it's sad), Angie talks a fair bit. Angie seems to disapprove of the other Lords, or at the very least enjoys mocking them, as well as enjoys watching them fight with each other. As Angie is connected to Donna, and Donna has some level of control over her, one can assume that the two have similar (if not the same) opinions. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

Donna was adopted by Mother Miranda as an adult. It's unclear exactly how old Donna was, or what exactly Miranda did as her "mother", just that Donna was excited about it. (1st Tier: Canon)

Other Relevant Information:

Heisenberg refers to the other Lords as his siblings a minimum of 1 time. Similarly to Alcina, however, he openly insults them and seems to hate them. He just, you know, hates Mother Miranda the most. (1st Tier: Canon)

Mother Miranda does not actually give a shit about the four Lords, intended for them to die before the ceremony, and has been manipulating them for her own gain this entire time. Her notes and dialogue make it clear that she only cares about getting Eva back. Somehow mother of the year and worst mother ever. At the same time. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

It's unclear who treats Alcina "like a sister" to the other Lords. Were there cut lines of dialogue that cemented the idea of them being a "family"? Did Miranda call them a "family" as part of pretending she cared about them? I've done my best to dig around, but there's very little in game that treats them as a family of any sort.

As each Lord ruled their own section of the region, they don't have any mentions of interacting with each other outside of meetings with Mother Miranda. None of the notes for any Lord (and their relevant experiments) mention what the others are doing. In game, their environments are very separate, very well divided, though this is likely as much for gameplay as it is for story.

Conclusion:

I do not not believe there is enough in game evidence to suggest that Alcina and Donna consider themselves to be siblings. There's the possibility for a large age gap, Alcina was a fair bit older than Donna when she met Miranda, Donna is a social recluse whose closest bonds were with dead blood relatives and dolls, Alcina openly dislikes (if not hates) the other Lords, they seemingly lived very separate and distanced lives, and Mother Miranda does not enforce the idea of "family". Furthermore, the sheer contrast between how Alcina interacts with/speaks of the other Lords compared to how she interacts with/speaks of her daughters says a lot about her feelings. Even if Heisenberg takes the brunt of her anger, Alcina never once says anything remotely positive about anyone other than Miranda and her daughters.

As Alcina/Bela and Donna are not blood-relatives, the definition of what would count as "incest" does vary depending on who you ask. Personally, I do count non-blood relations as potentially incestuous. For example: Alcina "dating" one of her daughters would be incest, regardless of the fact that she's a mutated human and her daughters are weird swarms of flies.

Now, I do understand how popular the idea of the four Lords being a real, chaotic but still close family is. And as I mentioned above, it's totally valid to not like the Bela///Donna ship, whether it's because you think they're family or some other reason. I don't personally see them that way, even in my definitely-not-canon stories.

Do I personally ship Bela///Donna? Nope. Have I liked art for the ship? Admittedly yes, even if I thought some of it was, like, maiden x Bela because Donna didn't have her veil and I'm a DUMBASS who doesn't always remember to read tags. Would I ever write for it? Yeah, probably, assuming I didn't miss anything in game/that I don't eventually change my mind.

#*incredibly deep sigh*#*incoherent screaming*#it's 6 in the morning #i spent too long doing research #again feel free to send me links if you think I missed something #what do I even tag this as?#asks #anonymous #meta shit #i'm procrastinating on posting this because of anxiety #I'm worried 2 specific followers are going to unfollow me #and possibly one mutual #somebody just kill me already

26 notes · View notes

apples-r-rubbish · 4 years ago

Text

John (11 x reader) Part 1

Summary: The doctor was being tracked. So he decided to become John to blend into a small town. It would only be 6 months he said. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: violence mention and knives and angst AN: Hi! First fic ever uploaded to tumblr so I’m excited. Hopefully this is good and isn’t too long. Part 2 and 3 should be up soon. Hope you like it!! Also I wrote the reader as female in this so sorry, I’m going to try to be more inclusive in later fics :,)

It had been 2 years, 3 months and 16 days since you’d all arrived in the 1920s, in a quaint little village in the south. You had also been told it would be a maximum of 6 months you would spend here, and boy, how the Doctor was wrong. He was being hunted, by a species that wanted to harvest timelord energy so they could learn to regenerate. So he’d picked a random village and a random time period, given you all jobs, and rewritten his own biology in an attempt to stay safe.

“I’m going undercover as a human, I’m rewriting my genetic code to stay safe, everything non-human about me will be held in this watch, and hidden somewhere linked to me, there will be another fake one hidden with me or on the TARDIS. I won’t recognise it, I’ll barely acknowledge it, or just enough to the point where fake me won’t think there’s anything off about it.” He explained slotting the watch into a rather aggressive looking head contraption, and throwing a device at Amy “I’m becoming John Smith, a history teacher at a local grammar school, Amy and Rory, your job is to track the thing, it has a unique energy signature with that device. Rory you work in the local hospital and Amy you work in a shop. (Y/N), your job is to keep an eye out for me, make sure John doesn’t do anything ridiculous, or fall in love or in a deep hole he can’t get out of. You’re the secretary at the grammar school,”

You cringed at memories as you sat in bed. Thinking over the last 2 years and everything that had happened since, it was all a distant memory now.

“The TARDIS will be in an emergency state if you need her. I won’t know you or remember you. It’s to keep you safe and for your own good. It’ll be six months, at maximum, nothing to worry about, Ponds, (L/N),” he smiled cautiously as he put the device on his head. The thing connected as he screamed, and shook, the agony in face unbearable.

Eventually, you decided you had to get up so you didn’t lose your job, you put on a dress, strapped a cautionary knife to your leg for protection along with the sonic screwdriver so you knew it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands or just in case the thing decided to attack today. You walked to the school. The village was fairly spread out but with limited people, less than 1000 people, everyone knew at least something about everyone apart from the few of you that had been welcomed two years prior. God how you missed Uber, and being able to go on regular runs without judgement.

When you arrived you stored your coat and bag in a storage room, making polite conversation with your coworkers in your office. John wandered in and smiled at you. “Hello, Miss (L/N), how are you doing today?” He was more posh in this version of himself, he sounded southern and as if he had been educated at the grammar school years prior.

“I’m very well, sir, just a little tired today. How about yourself?” You had also taken this time as an opportunity to sound more from the time period, to blend in and look more authentic compared to your back story that was full of holes.

“Good good, sounds like you need more sleep-” He paused upon realising the implications of his words “I- I didn’t mean anything like that, I meant perhaps-” He was like this a lot, he stumbled over himself. Not as confident as the doctor in far too many areas. “Nevermind, Mr Smith, I knew what you meant. What did you come in here for?” you lips pursed together, when he had his memories back you were going to slap him so painfully hard he’d regenerate. He may have had the doctor’s face however, he was not him. Maybe this version of the doctor had taken a liking to you, more than the actual Doctor ever would. You had to stick close to him so you allowed it, although it was painful at points seeing a man you had fallen in love with, finally acknowledge your existence as someone else.

“I needed to check the staff file and I just wanted to chat with you.” So you talked for a while.

The school day went by relatively smoothly apart from a student vomiting in the hallway, and two students almost getting into a fight, everything seemed standard, as the previous 837 days had. Nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The village was small and were grateful for that, all the shops were local and the furthest house was a 45 minute walk away. Ultimately, you had decided to visit Amy and Rory as you did most nights as they understood the pain you were going through, trapped away from your time period without your family, and closest friend, whilst also being tracked by an alien.

“-and then he looked at me and said I needed to get more sleep,” You said between sips of wine and painful laughs

“I can’t believe he struggles with social interaction more as an actual human rather than a timelord,” Amy laughed, this was the tradition, when Rory was working the nightshift, one of you would visit the other, and you’d laugh and drink together.

“At least you get to see him consistently,” Amy added, “We barely do. Rory sees him maybe once every few weeks down at the pub, and I see him when he comes into the shop or at the hall. You at least consistently know he’s safe and happy,”

“Yeah but it’s not exactly him is it. It’s like you see a picture of someone before you know them, like you can acknowledge it’s them but they’re just missing the odd piece to them, like the smile isn’t quite wide enough or their hair is parted differently. It’s a version of him, without him. Without the timelordy, alieny bits,”

“Maybe so, but it’s something, and we don’t have a lot else right now,”

“God, I can’t wait to wear pants and jeans when we get back to our time,” You said standing and embracing Amy in a warm hug “I need to go home and get some sleep, long day tomorrow, my turn to check. Thanks for having me, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When you had arrived home, that's when you saw him, a boy from the school outside your door, mindlessly staring through one of your windows.

“Edward Gray, dear? Are you alright? What are you doing here?” You asked panic rising quietly through you

Seemingly snapping out of his trance “Huh? Nothing Miss, I must’ve got a bit lost and confused, that’s all,” He said rubbing his temples, the expression he gave you didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was struggling to believe the words himself.

“You might want to get home, make sure your mother knows you're safe. We don’t want her up worrying all night now do we? Run along dear,” You said as you unlocked your house and he turned and ran.

You settled into bed for the night, pulling out a notebook and writing down bits from your previous adventures you could remember, it wasn’t for Amy and Rory you would've been doubting the validity of your stories and doubting that the alien had even existed at all, and wasn’t just a random man from your work who paid attention to you, smiled at your jokes, and whose eyes were full of mystery.

More dreams, more memories, more days. You woke up with a jump, your alarm surprising you. More morning rituals. Breakfast, check. Shower and brushed teeth, check. Dressed, check. Knife, check. Sonic, check. It was a friday so it was your turn to check the TARDIS. It was abandoned in a shed in one of the in one of the many fields surrounding the village that had long been forgotten. She wheezed slightly when you entered, a half asleep acknowledgment of someone else’s company.

“Hello dear, I’ve missed you too,” You said in response, a tinge of sadness in your voice, another sleep wheeze escaped from the console. You replayed the message the doctor had given you. He animatedly explained all the points, once again, like clockwork: village, 20s, hunted, six months, keep watch, pears, stay safe, teaching, secretary, shop, six months. Nothing had changed, you kept quietly wishing for the audio to alter, or the video to change, it never did. It was still the same video, and your alien bestfriend promised 6 months and nothing more.

Somehow, you had managed to arrive early to work. The majority of your colleagues had not yet arrived. In moments like this you had begun reading in classrooms, specifically, John’s. There was something comforting about it, perhaps it was the doctor’s energy. Quiet times like this helped usually, sometimes they made the situation worse, the silence was sometimes unbearable as thoughts of your future life rumbled around your head. You had positioned yourself near a window and pulled out a copy of the Great Gatsby. Whilst you were engrossed in your book, the door opened silently, John slipping in without you noticing

“Miss (L/N)? What are you doing here?” He whispered, his eyes staring deep into your soul, at times like this, he was almost the doctor. You jumped, the sudden noise surprising you

“Ah, sorry, John, dear. I was just reading, I had a bit of time before the day began,” You started

“It’s alright, no need to apologize. What are you reading?’

“Mr Fitzgerald’s new book, I have heard nothing but good things,”

“Ah, I prefer the classics, great expectations and such.” Even as a human he was still so much of the doctor.

You stood up suddenly “Anyway, I need to go. I have my duties to attend to.”

John rambled “Stay! If you want to- I mean- if you would like you can stay here and read, I don’t mind and I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind, I’ll convince them it was my idea. even though it was anyway,”

You considered it for a brief moment, you shook your head, “I can’t, I have particularly busy day,”

“At least let me walk you home tonight then, if you’re busy throughout the day. I enjoy your company,” he said with a wink and then he caught himself and looked shocked that he had actually just done that.

“Fine. I finish at 5. But you must know the neighbours will talk,” You said in attempt to deter him

��Oh, let them, this small town loves gossip,” John smiled in a very doctorish manner. You nodded slightly. A small smile graced your lips, a tinge of sadness in your eyes, you prayed he wouldn't notice as you turned to leave the room. You didn’t see him silently stick his hand out in an attempt to comfort you, over feelings he would have no concept of. John Smith and his small smiles and sweet talk would be the death of you. The Almost Doctor. So close yet, so far out of reach.

You had the trouble of organising staff schedules that week and planning and writing assemblies for other teachers, you didn’t mind though it kept you busy.

“(Y/N), did you hear Edward Gray hasn’t shown up today,” One of your colleagues Mrs. Price had said, she was elderly woman, her hair greying slightly, her glasses rested on a chain that was always around your neck

“That’s peculiar, he was outside my house last night,” You began as you explained to the other woman. She sat in an awkward silence afterwards.

“According to his mother, he did get home ok, he just came in this morning. Must’ve just decided he wanted to wander the woods for a break,” She said with a nervous laugh and you followed suit before going back to clicking away at your typewriter.

The day eventually ended at 5pm as you said a brief weekly farewell to the other office staff members before heading to the front of the building. John Smith was stood at the front he gave you a wide small and small wave that you returned

“Mr Smith,” You said with a smile as you approached him

“Miss (L/N).”

On the way home, you chatted about anything and everything, you trying to fix the holes in your double life story, and the chameleon arch filling in the gaps in his. You were simply two half strangers sharing half truths with one another. If the Doctor were actually here he’d laugh. Occasionally, neighbours would nod their heads towards you in acknowledgment, none of them stopping to talk. One neighbor seemed off, you believed his name was Mr Roscoe and he was an older man from the village. He made intense eye contact with you both before bumping into the doctor aggressively, squaring up to him.

“Timelord, your days will soon be up. We will have your secrets soon enough,” Roscoe hissed. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, you pulled the knife from your leg and pointed it at Mr Roscoe’s throat.

“Good, God Miss (L/N), where did you- what’s going on? Why do you have a knife?” John stammered the chameleon arch kicking into overdrive.

“Shut up,” You snapped, he opened his mouth to speak, he decided against it, then closed it again. You turned your attention back to the older gentleman, “Leave him be. He is not what you are after. This is your final warning, approach any of us again and this knife is going right in one of your vital organs. Clear? Or will I have to do it as a warning?” You snarled anger rising with each word edging the knife close to the man as you waved it for emphasis.

“Crystal,” The man replied, void of tone. Before turning and walking away sending a sharp glare in your direction as he wandered off

“Do you mind if we visit your house instead I have a phone call to make?” You asked the knife away, smiling and acting like nothing had occurred, slipping your arm back around John’s. John simply stammered in agreement, still not entirely grasping the intensity of the situation.

John’s house was rather large for him, he’d claimed it was far too big for one person and that he ought to let it out, but it was close to his job and he could afford it and that he also preferred his own company.

You waited until he left his kitchen to call Amy,

“Hello, this is Amelia Williams,” She chimed

“Red, wolf, now,” You said breathlessly, it was code, you had invented, between the three of you, if people were around that couldn’t know about the predicaments you faced, such as John you would use it. Red was danger, wolf was alien. She breathed a curse into the phone

“You’re safe, I presume, stay that way and with him, time to locate the pin and the needle,” more code, you simply said a quiet yet nervous ‘yes’ into the phone. The pin being the watch, the needle being a decoy.

“What about your job? 2 years, wolf tracking was up to you,” You hissed

“I’m sorry. I think the battery died long ago, we have no idea how to charge it even with the TARDIS. Plus, he never gave us an explanation of how to use it,” You mumbled a brief apology for hissing and hung up, after she had made sure you were fine, in the overly complex code, you former companions shared.

“What was that about?” John asked reentering the kitchen and breaking you from your thoughts holding some glasses, a bottle and packet of cigarettes. “Sorry, just a small code with a code with a friend, letting her know I’m safe and with a friend incase she gets worried or tries to visit,” You explained quickly

He smiled at that, maybe he had bought it, maybe not, “You’re so intelligent.” He breathed half to himself, half to you “Come on time for a smoke and a drink to calm us down after that, erm, experience,”

You sat next to eachother on one of the few steps that led to his garden. “So why do you carry a knife?” Was the first question out of his mouth after he’d poured drinks

“An old friend, he had some issues, told me to protect myself, I just felt I needed to make sure I was safe,” You replied simply, “And I hate guns, so a knife had to do,”

“In the 2 years I have known you, (Y/N), I’ve learnt very little about you, other than today.” He sighed

“You don’t need to know a lot, there’s not a lot I can tell you really, a fairly ordinary life,”

“Do you smoke?” He said offering you the box, with a smile you accepted one and lit it,

“Not often, we’ll have to share this one, I can’t handle full ones this late.” You passed it back to him “my friend wouldn’t approve so I try to not,”

“Well you have to make your own decisions,”

“He wouldn’t approve of you offering, I mean” You corrected “Also maybe not me accepting,”

“I need to tell you something,” He began, “I have these dreams- and they’re about the future and they involve you and that quiet couple from the village. We travel to other worlds and I’m from another planet and we try to save people. And it matches some of what Mr Roscoe had said. How crazy is that?”

Shit. You hadn’t considered dreams “Well ultimately dreams are the subconscious filling the space so I would imagine it is perfectly normal thing to dream. And as for Mr Roscoe, he’s a confused old man, I doubt he even realised what he said, John,” You laughed nervously, the chameleon arch had already started fixing the damage

“You can stay overnight, if you’d like I have a guest bedroom set up and some spare toiletries, just so you’re not worried about getting home. Mr Roscoe put the fear of God in us earlier and I wouldn’t like that to happen again, especially if you’re walking home” Even now, when he wasn’t himself, he was still unbelievably kind.

“Ok, then I’ll stay,” You nodded, you did not want another Edward Gray situation

“So this friend of yours. Would he approve of you staying the night? Does he approve of much? It certainly doesn’t seem it,”

“Perhaps he would. Maybe with you, maybe not, it's difficult to say. He doesn’t approve of much and yet many things. Kindness and eccentricity are two things he absolutely loves. He’s a good man, a kind man,” You tried to explain, taking the cig back “He’s a pacifist. And when he smiles the stars seem to align. We travel together. Or rather we used to before I settled here. I’m waiting for him to come back.”

“Oh are you and him-”

“Uh, no, absolutely not. I did see him like that, he did not see me that way. He has no reason to, he carries the stars with him and the world on his shoulders. He’s got enough to worry about without me,” you stated, a small tear slipping from your eyes, John wiped it away quickly , taking the cigarette back and finishing it

“I mean, perhaps he could, view you like that. If I were him and I know I could never be, I wouldn’t hesitate. You’re wonderful, kind and beautiful, intelligent and astonishingly brave,” John smiled “and if he can’t see that, I’m sure someone else will.”

The silence after his words was comfortable. You didn’t quite expect it. The ferocious love in his voice, the warmth and kindness. It seemed so disjointed from the normal, nervous and awkward John. You rested your head against him, a form of acceptance to his words. He wrapped his long since abandoned jacket around you, along with his arm, trying to shield you from the cold. The drinks had been finished a while, and cigarettes long since burned to ash. You stayed that way for a while, at least in that hidden moment you could pretend it was him and that things weren’t about to turn terrible. At least you had now and the steps in his garden long after dark.

PART 2

#doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #11th doctor #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x you #eleven x reader #Eleventh doctor x reader #self insert fanfiction #self insert #self insert doctor who #hope this is ok :)#Doctor who #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction

144 notes · View notes

nose-bandaid · 4 years ago

Text

stud.hui.o fanatic

hello!! i see that your requests are open so,,, could i request a non-romantic gender-neutral reader & hui scenario where the reader brings food to the studio late at night and convinces hui to eat and get some rest bc everyone is worried abt him? maybe with some platonic hand-holding.........? thank u so much 😖

Hui (Hwitaek) x (gender neutral) Reader - platonic fluff:D | 2.1k words

synopsis: late night phone calls weren’t uncommon when you’re lee hwitaek’s best friend, because more often than not, the man is sucked into the void known as his studio, and it’s your responsibility to drag him out of there.

a/n: hey there anon!! gosh when i say that i loved this prompt i really do mean it, so i hope that you enjoy this fic and that it’s what you were looking for:) apologies for the multitude of italicized words they just felt necessary.

=====

Your phone had to buzz endlessly for a second time to bring you to your senses. It was far too early in the morning for a phone call, and typically, you would’ve just ignored it and gone back to bed. But when you read the caller ID, you begrudgingly hit the answer button.

“Wooseok?” His name came out slurred as you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Hi y/n, sorry to call you at this time, but Hui’s been in the studio literally all day, plus for like, half of yesterday, and we can’t get him to go home and rest. Practice ended like an hour ago, but he’s still in there.” His reply came out in a tired rush, and his voice was hushed as if he was trying to hide from someone. That someone probably being Hwitaek himself.

You caught onto what Wooseok was asking of you. This wasn’t the first time you had to drag him out of the studio. Being his best friend had many perks, way more perks that outweighed the few downsides that came along with it, and one of them was that you now carried the responsibility of kicking some sense into his overworking butt when he fell into this overloaded phase.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” You answered without asking for any more details and bid your brief goodbyes before hanging up. Then, you got changed into some comfier clothes to match the chillier weather outside and grabbed your car keys.

It was late, and the only restaurant still open on your way to the studio was a small shop next to a karaoke bar, and you stopped by to pick up some fried rice. It wasn’t the most exciting meal out there, but for a 2am dinner run — or rather, breakfast-lunch-dinner run, if you were Hwitaek — it seemed pretty fitting.

When you arrived at the building and made your way to the studio floor, you saw the tall boy sitting on one of the benches in the hallways. He was hunched over, scrolling mindlessly on his phone and you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay awake for his leader’s sake.

You said a soft greeting as you approached him and he sent you a smile before letting a worried expression wash over him again. The door to the studio slightly ajar and Wooseok gestured for you to take a peek into the small gap, placing a warm hand on your back as he stood behind you.

“Just look at him.” He whispered, and you stared at your best friend working away on his computer, seemingly without any breaks to even think about what to do next. He simply clicked a few times, played something, shook his head, and then repeated the process all over again.

You turned back to Wooseok and began ushering him away from the door. “I’ll take care of this. I’m also guessing he hasn’t eaten much—” He nodded in agreement when you said that. “—so I brought some food with me. Go home and get some rest, I know you’re tired, just tell the others that I’ll bring him home... eventually.” You smiled reassuringly, but had to add in that “eventually” because deep down, you knew how just stubborn Hwitaek could be, and getting him out of the studio was a hefty task. Add in the upcoming planned promotions, then you get an even more stubborn version of him to work with — one that doesn’t understand the boundaries between work and self care.

Wooseok nodded slowly and your heart melted at the exhausted expression on his face. They’ve all been working so hard recently, heck, their packed schedules were a constant these days, and you could sense that it was taking a toll on them. Though no matter how tired they were, they always made sure to look out for each other, and you wanted to do your best to help ease at least some of the stress off the group. With a little more convincing, you finally got Wooseok to leave, giving him a hug before he did, and then you turned towards the task at hand. Even though the door was already opened, you knocked once to grab Hwitaek’s attention.

No answer.

You knocked again, this time calling out his name a couple times.

When he still didn’t answer, you gently opened the door all the way and let out a sigh when you fully took in his appearance.

“Hey, Hui.”

Still no answer.

You walked closer to him and leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes looked like they were seconds away from slumber, and his head rested on his hand like a makeshift pillow. “Hui? Hwitaek? Hui? Pentagon of Leader? Huiiiiiii?”

You placed the takeout gently next to his keyboard and then slowly nudged it so that it touched his arms resting on the table. When he didn’t respond to that either — and opted to mess around with the dynamics of the percussion in his composition instead — you stood straight up and let out a huff.

“Lee Hwitaek!” You called boldly and for the first time that day, he took notice of your presence.

“Oh, hey y/n. Could you check if this sounds okay?” He greeted you nonchalantly as if you hadn’t travelled all this way in the middle of the night to see him, and proceeded to play an excerpt of what he had splayed out on the screen. You stood there speechless until the music finished blasting from the speakers and then just stared at his expectant face.

“Hui you need to snap out of it! I know this comeback means a lot to you and you want to get the work done but you can’t do it like this.” You told him exasperatedly.

“What do you mean I can’t do it like this? I’ve always been doing it like this, and it works every time.” He defended, and he replayed the section for you to hear, but you still refused to pay attention to it.

“You do this every time only to have one of us literally drag you out of the studio! And then you face the consequences days later ‘cause your body’s exhausted, your mind’s exhausted — don’t you think you’ll work better if you were refreshed?” You moved his hand away from the mouse when he tried to go back to work and ignore you.

“I just have a little bit left to do and I’ll finish up soon, I promise.” He muttered. It was almost as if he was entranced by the idea of never ending work hours, and Lee Hwitaek was being sucked into the void of his monitor right before your eyes.

“I’ll finish it up soon, my ass. We’ve been best friends for what? 12 years now? I know you’re lying when you say that, and I know that you’ll be sick by the time you ‘finish’ this and then you’ll regret it later. It’s the same cycle over and over again and you need to stop, please I’m begging you, we’ve been through this so many times already.” You tried to calm yourself down. Getting frustrated over his stubbornness wasn’t going to do any good, if anything, it’ll only make the problem worse. He finally gave you his full attention when he noticed that you took a deep breath to collect yourself. Taking a deep breath has always been a sign that you meant business.

And yet he still replied to you blatantly. “If I don’t finish it up all at once, I’m going to forget about it later.”

You rubbed your forehead, trying to get rid of the annoyance that was building up within you. “And then you’re going to finish that part, only to think of another idea to work on right after that. Like I said, it’s a cycle and you need to realize that. Please, I’ll give you 30 minutes to finish what you’re doing and write your notes down, and then we’re going to take a walk, no matter what you say.”

He nodded at your firm tone and quietly got back to work after muttering a small “okay”. You spent the next 20 or so minutes watching him work, occasionally feeding him spoonfuls of the rice you brought, until he finally shut everything down and turned to you to scarf down what was left in the foam container.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” He pointed out the obvious when there was no rice left, and he stretched before getting up from his seat. You giggled when you heard his joints crack at the sudden movement.

“Geez, you really are getting old, huh? And that’s what happens when you get stuck in sitting in this chair for more than 24 hours.” You lightly smacked his head to get some sense into him. “You don’t take care of yourself and don’t realize that your body needs food.”

He rolled his eyes, giving in to your light scolding. “Okay, okay, you’re right.”

“Sir, I am always right.”

-----

Not too long later, you were both taking a walk outside the building, entering the quiet night life of the city.

The winter air had a chill to it and you shivered a little, taking Hwitaek’s free hand into yours. He responded by squeezing it gently.

Small physical affirmations like these have always got you through your friendships. As people who both relied on them as a source of comfort, it’s what allowed you to be as close as you were now. Though there were times where you’d have your disagreements — take the little argument you had earlier — holding hands especially, has always been what you used to remind yourselves that in the end, you still loved each other. That you were still best friends.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” You told him quietly.

He laughed. “What? Am I getting a pep talk now?”

Your cheeks heated at his words and you stopped walking, pulling him into a stop as well. “I’m being serious here!”

He gave you a teasing look. “I know you are, and I appreciate you always coming to take care of me. Even though I’m not in your shoes, I do know how stubborn I can get and how frustrating it must be for you guys to watch me make the same mistakes over and over again.” He let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “But some habits are hard to break, yeah?”

You let out a small hum in agreement. It was true, everyone had their own habits — some good, some bad — and while Hwitaek had a fair share of endearing habits, between you and the rest of the boys, his were also the most concerning. You’d all rather have him stay healthy than have him work his soul away on some songs that can ultimately, only do the group so much. And getting him to realize that was a challenge, but it was a challenge you were all willing to take.

Your walk didn’t have a set destination, and you crossed streets and changed directions on a whim, adding more thrill to your little adventure. At one point, you even stopped at one of the convenience stores still open so that he could buy himself a drink. Which ended up simply being a carton of milk after you insisted that no, coffee at 3 am is not going to help him rest at all. You allowed him to at least get chocolate milk though. And you spent your time talking about anything unrelated to his work, sharing stories that you’ve missed during your time apart.

The two of you pretended like it wasn’t the middle of the night and that you weren’t freezing in the cold because neither of you were responsible enough to have prepared layers for the weather. Because so what if it was pitch dark and the only sign of life were the lonely taxis that drove by? If the only sound joining the chirps of the crickets were your laughter and you couldn’t feel the tips of your ears anymore? Your best friend finally had the chance to rest and be himself once again, and you’d be there for him no matter what time of day it was. As long as you got to see his shoulders relax a little and his smile genuinely reach his eyes again. As long as you knew that he’d listen to you, as his best friend, and that he’d let you take care of him when you needed to. It didn’t matter how often that had to happen.

When you turned the corner back to the entrance of the entertainment building, you looked at Hwitaek and nodded your head towards the floors upon floors towering above. “You wanna go back to the studio and work for a little while longer to let me hear what you’ve got so far?”

Getting him to take a break was already a miracle, and as much as you wished he would at least spend the night resting, you felt bad for dragging him out like this. You understood that he probably worked best if he was allowed to follow his train of thoughts without disruption, as bad as that habit was.

Thinking that he would agree to your offer, you were already making your way towards the entrance. But to your surprise, he grabbed your wrist to stop you and instead gave you a relaxed smile.

“Nah.” He pulled you closer to him and slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning into it a little bit. His body was pleasantly warm against yours.

“Let’s just go home, work can wait.”

#pentagon #pentagon fanfic #hui #pentagon hui #lee hwitaek #pentagon x reader #hui x reader #pentagon fluff #hui fluff #pentagon scenario #pentagon imagine #hui scenario #hui imagine #pentagon wooseok #wooseok #requests #nose-bandaid

41 notes · View notes

seodami · 4 years ago

Text

Sucked in | CSC

INTRO

Summary: After a stressful year full of work and assignments, all you wanted to do was relax in the old, cozy library across the street from your apartment. Little did you know, your plans all vanished as you suddenly found yourself inside one of your favorite Mangas ‘My little ghost’ . A totally different magical world where soulmate connections exist. And it definitely didn’t help that you aggressively hit the main characters pretty nose with a book right when you arrived. Oh and how could you ignore that adorable squish ball, who just happened to be someone who you never thought existed...your soulmate? Will you ever find your way back home or spend the rest of your life inside a comic book? Or do you even want to go back after all what you’ve went through?

Genre: Comic AU, soulmate AU, fluff, angst, ...

Pairing: Comic Character!Choi Seungcheol x reader from another world

Sucked in MASTERLIST | Previous | Next

“Why in the world do you worship this Comic so much Y/N? I know the dudes look good but...” your friend Suyeon suddenly pulled the already slightly wrinkled comic book from your grip with a frown on her face.

“But what? Leave me and my comic alone. My life is completely fine looking at them every day.” You huffed in an attempt to try getting your book back but without success. Suyeon was was taller than you and held it up high over her head. In moments like these you wanted to damn her glamorous 179 cm of height.

The tall girl shook her head aggressively with you nearly clinging onto her. “I’m serious. All I see is you reading this over and over. I’m slowly concerned about your mental health.”

You sighted. Of course you wouldn’t want her to know that she was right. Even when it was just a little bit.

“Stop it Suyeon, it’s really not that bad. I just...really like it. That isn’t bad at all, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s more of an obsession by now. You know, you could read other books. I have plenty of recommendations. Nicholas told me about some. They seemed interesting.”

You looked up to her, seeing that she unconsciously lowered the comic. You took the moment to grab it with an evil laugh.

“I don’t care what your boyfriends recommendations are. I’m perfectly fine with this one. Maybe another time.”

Suyeon besides you whined. “He’s not my boyfriend stooopp. You always tease me.” With a swift roll of your eyes and a small smile on your lips you shook your head.

“Honey, I’m just stating the obvious. Also you deserve that after you stole my comic.”

She huffed and shoved her hands inside her jacket pockets. The walk towards your shared apartment went peacefully compared to earlier and soon enough you arrived at the olive green building in the corner of the street. You always loved the building.

Inside, you quickly shook off all your extra layers and layer down in your bed with the Comic still in your hand.

You stared at the cover, wondering what Wonwoo and Nari, the two main characters of the cartoon named ‘My little ghost’, would be doing right now. Would they still try to find a way to be together?

You sighted. You knew very well that getting that deep into a fictional story was bad. Pretty bad. Sure it’s great for escaping reality but you just seemed to be way too attached to it by now. Why couldn’t you just let go? Read another comic. Go outside and get a dog or whatever. But yet, you were still here, figuring all these characters personalities out while fantasizing how it would be if they were actually real.

You quickly flicked through all the colourful pages, having read it already a dozen times. Nostalgia hit you like a truck. This book accompanied you through many years of your youth. It already felt like a part of you. And that send you in a state of slight panic.

Maybe Suyeon was right. Maybe you actually needed some more variety in your dull life. This comic couldn’t be the only thing in this world making you happy.

Suddenly you remembered the old library across the street from your apartment. The one you never saw anyone ever entering or leaving. You wanted to check it out years ago but never had the guts nor the motivation to be honest. Maybe it was time to spice it up a bit and just dare it?

With another sight you pushed yourself off your bed, leaving the old comic behind. With a quick explanation to Suyeon, where you were going, you already headed out dressed in your checkered coat since it was freezing cold at this time of the year. You only managed to grab your phone and some spare money before you left.

Like predicted, it wasn’t far away from the olive green house. The small building had a vintage look to it and seemed like you expected pretty abandoned. You took a look through the dirty window, seeing nobody inside. But what you did saw, was a small light bulb being turned on.

You grinned, heading towards the door, pulling it open bit by bit. The heavy wooden door creaked slightly from the movement but soon closed itself again as you were standing inside now.

A musty smell crept into your nose, immediately reminding you of your grandmothers house. The light inside was dim but you could still figure out where what was. Some people might would find it eerie but you surprisingly found it pretty comfortable. It felt familiar to you in some way. You couldn’t describe the feeling very well.

You took a look around. From the inside it looks way more spacious and higher than from the outside. There were golden ornaments all over the ceiling and the shelves. The corridors between were wide, which led to an area of cozy looking Polsterer chairs and round desks. From down here you could see a second and maybe even a third floor, full of colourful book shelves. It nearly took away your breath. It was gorgeous.

Regret filled you that you have never visited this place before. Such a wonderful place. It nearly felt magical being in here. Like you were in another world.

“Good Morning Miss, may I help you?” Suddenly a fragile woman voice echoed through the big room, revealing a small old lady in a purple dress. She had a nice smile on her lips. She was definitely that old lady you wanted to get cookies from and pet her cats. She seemed friendly.

You cleared you throat, forgetting for a moment why you actually were here in the first place. You stepped a bit closer.

“Good Morning. I...I think I’m fine for now. I’m sorry if I’m seeming weird, I’m just starstruck right now.” you commented smiling back at her.

“Oh why, darling? It is your first time here, am I right? Most people tend to react like that when they first visit, even though it is not many.”

All you could do was nod. “It is. I was planning to visit years ago but never seemed to have done it. I wish I would have come earlier. It is beautiful in here.”

The lady chuckled and made her way over to you. “It really is, right? I own this library for over 50 years now and I’m still in love with it.”

You couldn’t help but smile genuine over her touching words. “Now tell me what you are searching for young lady, I see it on your face.

You nodded with wide eyes. “You do? I mean I was reading this one comic book for years and years and I really loved it. But I came to the conclusions that I needed some more variety.”

She nodded with a smile still present on her face as she now was standing a few feet away from you. “So you are searching for more comic books, I see. Follow me, follow me. We indeed have a great collection.”

The old lady went ahead of you, signalling you to follow her. You noticed she was even smaller than you. Her purple flows summer dress swayed evenly with each of her steps, making you want to wear such a piece as well. It totally contradicted the cold weather outside but you loved it.

“I really like your dress. It’s pretty.” you quietly commented trailing behind her. She grinned at you from behind her shoulder. “Thank you darling. I really like it too. Seems like we have the same taste.”

“You know, you really remind me of myself back in the days. I was obsessed with comic books as well. I have the feeling this place is exactly the right one for you.”

“I was thinking the exact same just now.” You giggled amused. As you went through some more corridors, left, right and then left again and a last right turn, you arrived at a section with two big shelves full of comic books. They reached up high to the ceiling.

You gasped in awe. Never would you ever had expected such a great selection. Right across the street!

The friendly lady laughed at your reaction, gently patting your shoulder. “Enjoy yourself. Let me know when I can help. Oh, and don’t forget the key.”

You stared at all the different books, literally screaming for you to open them. You didn’t even register the lady disappearing back to her usual place probably, but you replayed her words once more. Key?

You quickly shoved it to the side when you let out an excited squeal. It was just amazing. You have never seen so many in one place, not even in other libraries or book stores.

You started tracing your fingers across the book spines while reading the different titles with tilted head. This didn’t feel real at all. How could no one know about this place?

Suddenly your sleeve got caught up by something, which made a book stumble out of the shelf and fall onto the floor. Quickly you kneeled down to pick it up again. However, you stopped in your tracks as the title chaught your eyes.

“What a weird coincidence...” you mumbled to yourself, noticing that it was indeed the book you wanted to forget in the first place. ‘My little ghost’

You wanted to put it back, when you noticed that the cover looked somehow different... both of the characters were looking directly at you, instead of somewhere different. “What? Is that a special version?”

You opened the first page and frowned even more. Instead of credits standing over the whole page, there was a small text in cursive letters printed right in the middle.

Your fingers gently stroked over the delicate words written in french. You did learn french back many years ago in school but it was a long time ago to remember everything.

“Me transporter maintenant er ici. Je Vaud tout cover maintenant.” You slowly spelled out each word after another, being surprised by your still present acceptable pronunciation.

You hummed, closing the book once again before placing it back into the shelf. You would love to read it again but that wasn’t why you were here in the first place. Variety, yes!

You quickly grabbed another comic book, which title sounded interesting and made your way towards the comfy armchair, sighting as you sat down and began reading.

You started to become more and more immersed in the new story line and soon didn’t even notice anything around you anymore.

You also didn’t notice how a huge wave of tiredness rolled over you at some point. And not even minutes after, sleep tightly had wrapped its arms securely around you.

18 notes · View notes

fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc · 4 years ago

Text

JATP FANFIC

Juke

Fluff

Oneshot

Time and Space

Julie and the boys decide to take a break from the band while Julie gets her bearings at college while they go and explore. Turns out that kindred spirits don’t take well to time and space.

Julie sat on the black swivel chair at the studio, back slightly arched over a keyboard as she recorded a new part to the chorus of a song she was working on. She hummed the lyrics lightly allowing her fingers to make what she heard in her head come to fruition. “Perfect” , she said once she added the keyboard to the song and replayed it. The song was mostly pop with a little bit of soul. It was right on brief as far as she was concerned, but the professors at Berklee were no joke. She just hoped that she did enough for an acceptable grade. After saving the song on her drive, she made her way to her room on 150 Massachusetts avenue. Her roommate, a dance major from Brazil, wasn’t going to be home until 11:00pm, meaning that she had two hours of alone time.

She entered the cozy room with a smile. Alana had turned on the L.E.D fairy lights and she could also smell the faint floral scent of the oil diffuser. She must have done this before she met up with her friends for their weekly Friday dinners . Julie locked the door, sat on her desk, and scribbled a note of gratitude, ending the note with a new Portuguese phrase that she’d picked up from her, “te amo muito”. After placing it on her bed, she began her nightly routine: shower, sing in the shower, wear her comfy pajamas(which consisted of an old, ripped up T-shirt that she had stolen from Luke years ago, and fluffy reindeer pajama pants), check her phone for messages, find out that she didn’t receive any, and ultimately sit on her bed for another hour with her notebook and a pencil. She usually felt most creative around this time, but tonight was not one of those nights. She stared at her phone that was all too proud to showcase her embarrassingly empty notifications list.

At first, the band came to the decision to go on hiatus for Julie’s sake. They had spent every hour of everyday together for two and a half years, cultivating a loyal following and making great music. A needed break, just so Julie could focus on school, was the logical move. Ever since they materialized as real people, they hadn’t spent much time exploring this new world. This was their chance. She mostly attributed the lack of communication to the fact that they probably still had no clue how to use smartphones and ignored the very plausible idea that they might have needed a break from her. She and Flynn spoke more often, but she was easily busier than Julie over at Northwestern with her double major in Performance studies and Film and Media studies.

Sigh. Julie fell backwards onto her bed and closed her eyes, remembering the day she left for Boston. It was still super hot in California, but she had a sweater stuffed into her carry-on for when she landed on the East Coast. The boys drove a separate car that contained most of her luggage, while her Dad, Flynn, and her brother were in another car, blasting the radio. Her father singing the loudest, trying to drown out the pang in his chest, Julie assumed. She was excited to go to college, but she would miss her hometown, her family, Flynn, and the boys. When they parked, the boys insisted on carrying all of the luggage. She had to wrestle Reggie to hold on to her carry-on. The boys wondered at everything they witnessed, none of them having taken a flight anywhere before dying. She distinctly remembers the way Luke smiled and waved at the troupe of pilots walking past them and towards their respective flights. When it was time for her to pass the threshold, her dad broke down, silent tears breaking through. “Mom would be so proud of you”, he assured her. Now it was Julie’s turn to cry. She hugged them all one more time, Luke last of all.

“Hey”, he started, “don’t forget about us when you become a cool, super smart, college student”. Julie laughed so hard that she startled the entire waiting area full of people.

“I promise that I won’t. And just because the band’s taking a break… that doesn’t mean you can’t call, or text, or video call. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of course, once I figure out how to do that video call thing you’ll be seeing this face once a day”, he promised. Julie laughed again, wiped her tear-stained cheeks, and boarded her flight.

That was three weeks ago. The first time he video called her, the connection was poor, and they couldn’t hear each other. The second time he tried to call, she just got an embarrassingly bad grade on an exam that she had spent all night studying for in addition to being days behind on a project in the very same class. Julie lay in bed cringing at the memory of that afternoon.

“Hey Julie! woah, are you crying? What’s going on are you oka- “

“No- I mean I was, but I- I’m good now, just busy”,

“Oh. Well, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothing much honestly. Just… yeah just super busy”

“Julie, do you need me to hang up?”

“I’m so sorry, but yes. I’m just-”

“Busy? Got it. See you later”

She felt physically ill remembering that day. She had half a mind to text him an apology, but some sort of self-preservation setting inside of her stopped her every time. Knowing Luke, he’d probably texted everyone that she was super busy and not to be disturbed. Maybe that’s why she’s been left on radio silence for a week. Her dad even downsized from his daily calls and he always kept them under ten minutes; even if she insisted that she had more time. She was just about to call it a night when her phone vibrated. She froze. Don’t get too excited. It’s probably from one of your professors.

It wasn’t. Julie blinked and turned the brightness all the way up on her phone. The message read:

🎶Luke🎶: Hey, are you busy?

Julie was quick to respond:

You: No, not at all. Wanna talk?

Just as the little notification popped up to indicate that her message was delivered, there was a knock on her door. She assumed that it was Alana coming home early. She frequently forgot her keys so it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, but who she opened the door for was completely unexpected.

“Dad! Carlos! What are you doing here?” Standing in front of her door was her dad and brother. She hugged them tightly and to more of her surprise, just outside the doorway was Flynn, Alex, Reggie, and Luke, standing humbly behind everyone else.

“Don’t be mad at us”, Alex said, “Luke made it very clear that this surprise could not be spoiled under any circumstances”.

“But we’re not that good at keeping secrets,” Reggie added.

“So you all decided to ghost me?” she questioned.

“Sort of”, Alex responded quietly. They were all looking at her. Wondering if they had made a grave mistake and if she would slam the door in their faces. She wouldn’t.

“Well… the risk was worth it. I am officially surprised!” she whispered, realizing that her fellow, sleep-deprived, students would not appreciate the interruption. The look of relief on everyone’s face was hilarious.

“Come on everyone, let’s get out of this hallway. I know a good 24-hour diner just around here. They have seats big enough for all of us”, Julie suggested.

“That sounds great Julie, but please tell me that you're getting changed first?” Flynn asked.

Julie remembered that she was in her ‘comfy clothes’. Clothes consisting of Luke’s shirt and Christmas pajamas. “Uhhh, yeah. Give me a minute”. She shut the door, jumped into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. “Okay, now I’m ready! Let’s go”.

The walk to the Diner was short, but Julie had learnt a lot. Carlos just started a photography club at his school, Flynn’s roommate, Justine, has an aunt who owns a hair salon, meaning discounted box braids all year. She was really excited about that. Reggie has been surprising fans at local cafes with acoustic versions of the band’s best hits. Alex has been holed up in every museum and library in California and Dad was up to the same old stuff, taking photos, cooking, and whatever old people do, Julie added to her dad’s protest.

“I am not old”, he responded as he pushed open the Diner doors. The place was pretty clean to most city-dwellers standards. The faded blue and yellow banquets surrounded the walls and long wooden tables were placed across from them. Julie took the liberty of snagging a few stools from the counter, seeing as the room was empty. Julie, Carlos, and her Dad sat on the stools while the rest of the crew spread out on the banquets. When the waitress came around she informed them that they were in luck and that there was a fresh batch of maple bacon and regular glazed hot out of the deep fryer. They ordered one of each for everyone, along with a pot of classic Diner coffee and a pitcher of water for Carlos. As they waited for their desserts, the group fell into a lull. Julie took this chance to get into Luke’s head. He had planned an entire trip across the country for her, but he hadn’t said more than twenty words to her since she’d layed eyes on him.

“So, Luke,” she started tentatively, “what have you been up to? Visit any museums lately?”

“Pfft I wish!” her father exclaimed. She peeked over at a mortified Luke and the sympathetic stares of his friends. “I swear all he ever does is sit in that studio, write songs, and sulk”, he continued mercilessly, only stopping when the waitress arrived.

“Here are the donuts. The coffee and water are coming right up”.

“Thank you so much,” her Dad responded kindly. “Now back to what I was say-”

“Julie, can we talk… outside,” Luke interrupted. Flynn and Carlos tried to stifle a laugh that ended in both of them choking on their donuts. Julie was… confused to say the least but she obliged, standing and walking shyly past the door he opened for her.

‘It’s freezing out here!’ She wanted to say to cut the tension, but she knew that the weather was not one of the topics of conversation that Luke had on his mind. They were walking now, taking small steps to nowhere in particular. Luke spoke first.

“So, as your father has so kindly told you, our beloved friends, and the entire Diner staff, I’m sort of miserable without you”.

Julie snorted. “Well, to be honest, I'm not having such a great time without you either. We’re really that co-dependent, huh?” Luke was smiling next to her and she was smiling back. She really did miss his smile.

“Ha, well, you say co-dependent, and I say that I'm deeply in love with you,” he shrugged, “same difference”. What? Julie froze. She was not prepared for this, but one could say that that was just bad planning on her part. Julie still remembers the day when she almost lost him to Caleb. The feeling of absolute darkness surrounding her heart, the feeling of heartbreak and anger. She was way too young to call that feeling love, but looking back, looking at all of the late-night songwriting sessions and the way she lost all ability to speak when he gave her that smile, maybe it was. Maybe it still is. Realizing that Luke was watching her, she tried to utter some sort of response.

“Luke, I-”

“You don’t have to say it back, in fact I'm asking you not to, but just hear me out on this one request. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Let me stay.”

“Where? My dorm room. I think that Alana and my dad might have something to say about that,” she answered, unsure of where this was going.

“Very funny Molina. He was doing his nervous finger twitch. “C’mon lighten the mood Julie!” She chastised herself.

“Right? I should drop out and pursue a career in come-”

“Let me stay here in Boston”, he butted in. She didn’t mind because she could see how much what he wanted to say scared him. “I'll get my own place, I'll work crappy retail jobs when all my money runs out, I’ll busk on the streets for all I care, but I… I need this. He was gesturing at the two of them.

Julie stood there unmoving. He needed her. The sentiment was horrifying and exciting at the same time, but she couldn’t hide her truth when he was showing his off right in front of her. To her, he was that bit of California sunshine she was always missing, the series of sounds that filled the empty part of a song she was producing, he was like the sweet glaze on a soft donut; he completed her. Without thinking, she grabbed his shaking hands and placed them on her cheeks. Like from memory, he was caressing her face. She placed her hands on his face and did the same. For a split second, Julie was sixteen again, in her mother’s studio, holding on tight to what she had left, what she wanted more than anything.

“I need you too, Luke. You're the glaze to my donut.” It was Luke’s turn to laugh now. Julie knew it was a stupid metaphor, but it got the job done and it made him smile.

“Oh my gosh that was terrible”, he teased, putting both hands over his mouth in shock, “how did you get into Berklee?”

“That’s a lot of talk coming from someone who didn’t get into Berklee”, she teased back, arms folded.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me! I could have gotten in had I applied”, he assured her.

“You don’t even have a transcript, Luke.”

“Once again, do not underestimate my skills of persuasion. I managed to get you to let three ghosts live in your studio” he replied.

“Fine. Then apply next semester,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge, Molina?”

“More like an invitation”, Julie looked him in the eyes now, all jokes aside.

“I’ll be there. Always”, he answered.

“Wow. That was, inspiring”, said a familiar voice, “but can we please get back to the hotel? The waitress just warned us that we don’t want to be walking around here after dark.”

Julie and Luke turned in unison to see a paranoid Alex standing in front them. “Oh, and congratulations on the two of you finally realizing that you are literally inseparable. This past month has been torture for me! Now c’mon, let’s go before we get murdered, but for real this time.”

The trio walked back into the Diner with Luke and Julie holding hands. This was met with various cheers, chants, and a relieved “finally”! from Julie’s dad. “Now I can use my studio in peace!”

THE END!

#jatp #julie x luke #julie molina #luke patterson #juke fic #juke fanfiction #team juke #fanfic #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms

5 notes · View notes

onemistresstorulethemall · 5 years ago

Text

Birthday Ice Cream

Asmodeus appreciation week, day 6 - Birthday fanfic

Warnings: this includes a fffm foursome. If you're not into that, then I kindly suggest you check out other works.

Also: Asmo has a tail in this for simplicity purposes. Didn't wanna leave any of the girls in the story unsatisfied, you know? ;)

Special mention: @milas-imaginarium 💕

"Put these on, so I can tear them off you later~" was written on the note attached to the gift bag Asmodeus found on his bed.

Confusion mixed with excitement, but he reached out into the bag anyway. Inside he found a sheer white shirt with holographic accents at the collar and sleeves and a pair of velvet trousers. He saw both of them in the window of a shop, but he wasn't able to try them on as the store was closed.

"I can't believe she got them for me...", he hugged the clothes to his chest and smiled.

Without wasting any time, he tried the clothes on. Rushing towards the mirror, the demon noticed a pink post-it note stuck onto it.

"Be ready by 8, I'm picking you up."

The fact that he had no clue as to where they were going made everything more thrilling. If there was one thing the demon loved almost as much as himself, it was surprises. Pleasant ones.

Time flew by pretty quickly while the Avatar of Lust was getting ready. As he was applying a nude lipstick, he was startled by a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?", Asmodeus heard from the other side of the door.

"Do you want me to be?", the question was followed by giggles.

The door opened slowly and y/n let herself in. She was smiling, looking stunning in her f/c dress.

"I was sort of hoping I'd find you naked in here.", she pouted.

"Be careful what you wish for.", Asmodeus closed the distance between them.

The demon grabbed his partner by the chin and lifted her head, pressing his freshly painted lips against hers.

"I'd love to stay here with you, but that would waste everything that I've prepared.", she broke off the kiss.

"Alright, babygirl. I'll let you lead tonight.", he jokingly stated.

His lover turned her attention to him as her eyes grew bigger. Surprise and disbelief both mixed into her expression.

"You mean that?", she smirked.

"Well, it was supposed to be a joke, but now that you mention it..."

Her reply never came. Instead, Asmodeus felt a set of fingers interlock with his as he was pulled out of his room.

The house of Lamentation was uncharacteristically quiet. That raised a lot of questions. Under no normal circumstances would the house be this peaceful. Unless...

"Why isn't there anyone home?"

"Because they're all waiting for us somewhere else. Now hurry up, babe. You don't want to be late!"

After a while the dolled up demon found himself in front of The Fall. The moment he connected the dots and realized that she was throwing him a party at his favorite place, Asmodeus stated squealing.

"Shush, we didn't even get in yet. Wait until you see everything.", his lover smiled.

As soon as they stepped in, everyone screamed "happy birthday!", pink confetti stated pouring from the ceiling and helium-filled balloons were released to float. All of his family and anybody that was somebody in Devildom was present. From Diavolo to the super succubus models, from the incubus rockstars to the most popular demon idols. Everyone important was there.

The night went wonderful. The go-go dancers swayed their hips to the beat. The candy bar was great before Break devoured it whole. Liquor was plenty. So much, in fact, that it managed to get even Lucifer on the dancefloor. It seemed that not even him could resist a great party. Right as the clock stroke midnight, however, the music stopped. Everyone was just as confused as the fifth born. He turned to ask his human what this meant, but she was nowhere to be found. Hence, he started searching for her in the crowd, but to no avail.

“Right before we bring out the cake, there’s a treat for the birthday demon. Take a seat in the front row and enjoy.”, a voice announced.

Soon after the music started again. His human stepped onto the stage, dressed in minimal clothing, approaching the silver pole in the middle of the stage. Asmodeus could not believe his eyes. Her lascivious moves hypnotized him completely. When she dropped to her knees and crawled towards him, his self control was hanging by a thread. Constrained by the circumstances, he had to hold back, but if he could have his way... The crowd would not mean much to him. In fact, he loved being watched.

For the moment, however, he was satisfied with just watching her and the way she was swaying her hips. Making a mental note to test those movements himself, Asmodeus focused on her completely. Somehow, he wanted to engrave each frame into his mind, so he can replay them later. Thankfully, he saw Solomon recording the show. “I’ll ask him for it later”, he thought.

Item after item, almost all of y/n’s clothing ended up discarded on the floor, leaving her in only a matching underwear set and a pair of heels. With the show done, she retreated in the back, behind the curtains.

Still in awe, every guest started whistling and clapping. All the attention was now on Asmodeus, who was grinning like a madman.

The birthday demon would have loved nothing more than to follow his darling behind those curtains and have his version of dessert. But he couldn’t. As Barbatos marched towards him with a sever tier cake, he knew there was not escaping this.

It was all so hazy, Asmo did not even realize when his honey appeared by his side. It was only when she grabbed his arm that he acknowledged her presence.

“I hope you liked my show.”, she smirked.

“Best birthday present ever.”, he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

Even through all that noise, he could still distinguish her giggle.

“That wasn’t the present, my love. That was the warm-up.”

Before he had the chance to ask any more questions, Asmodeus had to cut the cake and smile for the pictures. His human posed for the pictures alongside him as if nothing had happened.

After everybody had eaten a slice, except for Beel who ate at least one entire tier, they all rushed back on the dancefloor. The party seemed like it was just getting started. The go-go dancers resumed their place as well, which gave Asmodeus and y/n the perfect opportunity to vanish for a while.

Lead by y/n, Asmodeus and his lover escaped into one of the private rooms, where, to his surprise, there were other two girls waiting. They were already naked and although tipsy, Asmodeus could recognize that those were his favourite strippers from the club. Also, some of his biggest admirers.

"I thought you'd like some ice cream for dessert and you know how ice cream is... The more flavours, the better.", y/n spoke.

"Well then, we shouldn't keep the guests waiting. They're already in the appropriate attire. We're the ones who are overdressed, my love.", he started pressing kisses on his beloved's neck.

The other girls didn't waste any time and helped both out of their clothing.

"You're so wet already...", one of the girls, called Cherry, spoke.

Cherry's long fingers already rubbed circles over y/n's clit as the kiss between her and Asmodeus became more heated. The other girl, Kitty, was stroking Asmodeus' cock. The Avatar of lust had enough of being well behaved, so his hands began to wonder over his lover's body, ending up on her chest. As he started playing with her nipples, she couldn't help the moans coming out of her mouth, although she tried to contain them.

"Don't you dare keep those sweet sounds for yourself. It's my birthday, baby, I want to hear you... All of you."

His words made her melt completely and soon dropped to her knees, facing Asmodeus' cock. She opened her mouth and took it in with a hunger hard to put into words. Cherry and Kitty joined her, kneeling on either side of her and using their tongues on the shaft.

"Ugh, girls, you're amazing... It's like I died and returned to the celestial realm."

That statement only made her suck harder and take him in deeper, even though she struggled to breathe. Seeing this, Cherry and Kitty grabbed her hair and pushed her head, forcing her to take all of Asmo's cock, making her gag. After a while they let go of her head and she lifted herself so she could take a few deep breaths. Kitty and Cherry lowered themselves to focus on the balls of the Avatar of Lust.

"I don't wanna cum yet, so let's move to the bed, shall we?", Asmodeus asked and the three girls complied.

His beloved human eagerly hopped onto his cock, Cherry and Kitty sucked and liked both of her nipples while Asmo played with and fingered their pussies.

The room was filled with moans, the sound of skin against skin and the wet sounds of fingered cunts. It was an ecstasy filled haze that none of the participants wanted to end.

Eventually Kitty sat on Asmo's face, while Cherry lowered herself to lick y/n's clit while she was getting fucked.

As a reward for being a good girl, Asmodeus' tail found its way between Cherry's thighs, playing with her sensitive nub. Asmo's beloved could feel Cherry moaning against her own swollen clit.

The Avatar of Lust began to pound faster and harder and a pair of hands began to toy with her breasts once again. They were too small to be Asmo's, so it had to be Kitty from behind her.

Hearing the girls' moans, feeling their lust, the taste of Kitty's pussy and the way his lover felt around his cock drove him wild. Asmodeus was so close to the edge he could almost feel it.

The moment his honey's walls clenched around him as Cherry managed to make her cum, it was over. He emptied himself inside her cunt.

It was no surprise to him that she loved it. What was surprising, however, was when she used a small dildo to plug it all in. Two rounds later, all three of the girls had his seed plugged inside them.

They got dressed, fixed their hair and make up quickly before leaving the room to go back to the party.

Lucky enough for Cherry and Kitty, they were able to make it back in time. It was their turn to dance. They rushed on the stage and took over the show.

While Asmo sat in the front row, sipping champagne, all he could think about was how under those thongs that Kitty and Cherry wore was a dildo keeping his cum inside them.

"Aren't these two your favorites?", Solomon took Asmodeus by surprise.

"Excuse me?", y/n faked being offended.

"My apologies", Solomon laughed, "Your favorite strippers."

"Still offended over here!", she gestured dramatically.

"Alright, jeez. Succubuses. Better?"

"Why don't you take a seat, Solomon?", Asmodeus cooed.

"I'm afraid there's none available."

"Nonsense! Y/n can sit on my lap!"

She couldn't object, it was his birthday after all. But he sure as hell knew just how to move to get the dildo to rub inside of her.

50 notes · View notes

rays-of-gold · 4 years ago

Text

It’ll Only be a Little Longer

AN: so right off the bat I’m just going to put this out there, the idea for this one-shot came from outside things. This chapter I wrote for my friend who can’t write torture (and I can apparently???) so with that in mind: Possible TW - mentions of being kidnapped + fear toxin with minors. With all that in mind onto the fic

Honestly, Damina didn’t go looking for trouble (most of the time), he was just unlucky? Not that he believed in ‘karma’ as Drake so eloquently put it. But he was willing to bet in the worst outcome happing in Gotham. So naturally the day he was finally allowed back out for patrol, the worst did come. This time in the form of Scarecrow rolling in with a new brew of fear toxin. The insane scientist had hostages, which was bad news.

Damian cursed, he along with Batman, Red Hood, and Spoiler were the closest (and available). But after seeing through the unkempt window Damian felt his heart speed up, he knew the others were giving him curious looks but that didn't matter right then. Mia was one of the hostages, along with Sliverlock and (older) Mizoguchi. Mia- his highly intelligent, intuitive, and excitable fri-associate was in danger, along with her bother and time bomb of a friend. Looking over to his father for his instructions. Batman looked the building over, “Spoiler, I want you and Robin to create divergence if needed, along with taking out any hired hands. Once you have claered the frist two floors send word through the coms. Hood and I will converge on Crane. Damian opened his mouth to protest, to insest that he should be the one to help instead of Todd. But he didn’t, as he knew every moment they waited the trio could be exposed to the toxin.

Damian followed Brown as she checked each room, over. The only unwanted personal were to armed gaurds in frount of a meatle door. The hinges were rushing, which was why Damian figured the need for the armed gaurd.There was a crash from inside the room accoumped by curses. With a swift hook kick to lacky number one’s jaw. Spoiler’s own lacky was laying unconscious. As soon as the door was kicked in Damian rushed in. His eyes darted over the sean layed out n frount of him. Broken Glass from the window littered the floor, Olive was being held at bay by Mizoguchi, as Todd attemped to get them out. Olive caught Damian’s eye; her’s were fire. And her fires blazed. Movement from the right corrner caught his eye, turning Damian froze when he saw Crane holding a sickly green filled suringe at Mia’s neck.

Damian couldn’t look away. This was the girl that had been able to keep up with him when they were stuck togerther, the same girl who had mapped out the secrets of Gotham Acadmey and activly sought out danger. And yet her panic filled eyes met his as the tip of the needle was pressed into her skin. But this was diffrent, all the other times she had her ‘dective clubs’ with her, placing their fates in the hands of trusted allies. Not a quartet of vigalintes and the hope that they were able to get to her before Scarecrow could. Damian heard a roar, turing his head slightly to were Sliverlock now stood surrounded by flames.

Damian watched as Mizoguchi stuggled towrads his sister and girlfriend? ‘’Before Todd picked him up, jumping out of the buring buliding. Yelling over the coms for immediate backup. Spoiler was slidding into the shadows, trying to suddly get to Crane from behind. That’s when it happed. In retospect Damian really should have seen this coming, Silverlock’s flames had ignited the toxin that Crane had stored. Crane pushed Mia towards Batman, caught her. Batman signaled Spoiler to get her out of there. Good. Damian turned his attemtion back to Scarecrow, when he felt his insides turn.

As his world shifted, blurred, and came back into focus. The shadows came for him, seething. They surrounded him reaching into the depts of his mind. Looking for anything they could use aginst him, their whispers carring nothing and everything in them. Damian turned in on himself trying to protect adgist the unseen enemy. Their whispers turned into sherikes with his grandfather’s philosophy replayed in his mind like a broken record. when a soft cool hand touched his face, whipping away the tears he didn’t kew he shed. He tured his face upwards, as the sherirks dulled to whimpers and accuactions. Mia smiled down at him, her sparkling brown eyes held his. Her arms enveloped him in a hug, Damian felt himself lean into her embrace. When she took a step back, a sword point passed clean through her heart. Blood, drak and damning, pooled around her feet as she fell. Damian watched her lifeless body fall to the ground where layed the disembowled froms of his family. Their organs spilled, or bodies crushed. All of them bloodied, when he looked back up he saw his mother her sword gleamed with crimsion. Before she knelt befor him, “’Damian, you are free now. Come back with me, and together we can run the League. I want you to be with me, as my son not as an heir.’” Damian felt his mouth dry up, he wanted to belive her so badly there was nothing left for him in Gotham. He could finnaly go home. His mother reached out, and in a rare desplay of affection rubbed her thumb across his face in a sothing manner. When he flet the needle slip into his arm, he turned to look back at his mother. Who had a crule smile on her face as his world fadded to black.

Damian’s head spun, opening his eyes the light hurt so badly he closed them agian. Groaning slightly he heard voices, that sounded like a warted down version of his brothers. Trying to open his eyes agian, he adverted them from the over head light. When the events of last night hit him. Mia, Scarecrow attack, new toxin, the felling of a needle sliddign into his skin. Shit. Pushing himself into a sitting postion, Damian glared over to where his brothers were gathered. “how long?” his voice was horse and it hurt to talk. Grayson sat down next to him, “about a half a day. You gave us a hung scare though.” he leaned down placing his forehead on the crown of Damian’s head befor pulling back and whispering “I’m gald you’re okay Dami.” Damian nodded. Once he went throgh the costomary rutine check up, and approved by Pennyworth. Damian went back to his room, sleep over taking him as he mulled over Mia and his friendship and if it could grow into someting more.

FIN, Well I didn’t want to end it on a to angsty note, but I didn’t aslo want too sweet ethier. Well if you made it this far I hope you enjoyed!

#damimaps #fanfic #oneshot #damian wanye hurt #fear toxin #olive sliverlock #gotham academy #kyle mizoguchi #damian wayne #maps mizoguchi #stephne brown #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Tim's mentioned #same with Talia #don't respost to another sight #not beta'd #we die like Robins

18 notes · View notes

greyfongschemmenti · 4 years ago

Text

Under Pressure 12|15

FryeArcana

Chapter 12

Battleship Zhu Li

You’re at home as you start packing a bag when Lin steps in the room “you seem excited to get out of here?” she leans against the doorframe with her arms folded “are you not coming?” you look over at her and stop for a second before going to your closet to grab a thick enough coat. She shakes her head “I want to but Raiko needs the city prepped in case the war comes to the city. I have to stay and go over any possible evacuation routes and civilian safety. Keep the city safe”. You drop your coat on the bed “I can stay and help you with that. Korra has more than enough help.” you step around the bed and walk towards her. She looks away contemplating your offer before looking back at you “no, you should go. They might need a metal bender.” You look at her and nod understandingly “if you’re okay with it” Lin hesitantly reaches over and plants her palm on your chest not feeling the armor “you’re not going without your armor are you?”

You just blink “uh…” She huffs “don’t be ridiculous. Metal bender without metal armor” she pushes you back “I got other stuff!” you exclaim as you run out the bedroom heading to the garage as you unlock the cabinet and bend on your brace and sleeves and return. Lin is standing where you left her as her eyebrow raises now it’s your turn to stand under the doorframe and lift your sleeve and show her your metal forearm sleeve, it’s similar to Korra’s wrappings except yours is metallic, it reminds you of the one Suyin wears, giving you protection and the ability to bend out a dagger if needed when in close combat. “I also fashioned my own set of cables” you point towards your back and turn around, showing off the back brace. It’s just like how Lin wear’s hers, the cable spooled on her back and the stringed along the forearm. In basic terms, you basically made an exoskeleton version of the police’s armor. “It’s not much but it’ll make do its purpose.” Lin looks over at your back brace and sleeves “where did you get these?” you smirk proudly “Get it?! I built it! It’s a y/n exclusive. Ever since Amon I didn’t want to have to fight without the cables, so I built my own without having to use the police’s property.” Lin smirks “Asami?” and you chuckle “she had the materials, but I did the design and manufactured them. What does Chief Beifong think?” you raise your eyebrow as you playfully start flexing your arms and back. She checks you out and smiles “impressive but I still say you would be better with armor” you grin and zip up your bag “if I didn’t know any better I would say Lin Beifong is a worry wart and overprotective” Lin rolls her eyes and groans “negative” you smile as you put your bag aside noticing the time, 1:00 AM. “you want to stay the night? It’s pretty late” you bend the back brace and sleeves off setting them beside the bag. Lin watches you an contemplates whether or not to then sighs “fine, but I’m staying on the couch” she rolls her eyes and walks to the couch. You’re not about to fight her on this if you do decide to offer your bed you think she would just end up getting up and going back to her place. So it’s better not to press her, this is at least some progress in the right direction. You let Lin shower first though, you set your alarm and tell Lin goodnight laying in your bed.

After a couple minutes you start dozing off laying on your side. About an hour you’re of light sleep, you hear footsteps coming towards you then a weight settling down beside you. You smile a bit not opening your eyes or turning over, but you mumble “what happened, did you hear noises?” you mumble as you smirk.

“your couch is uncomfortable” Lin grumbles as she shifts and lays on her back. You lightly chuckle “goodnight” as you yawn then go back to sleep.

Lin looked at the ceiling of the living room as she laid on the couch. She couldn’t sleep not because the bed wasn’t comfortable, but she couldn’t stop debating whether or not to just muster up the courage and stop her stubbornness to just go lay on the bed. y/n isn’t coming back until Raava knows when, not until Unalaq is defeated. It could be days or weeks; this is practically the last time you’ll see her until she comes back. Knowing yourself, you’re going to be replaying this scene over in your head wondering why you didn’t get in bed with y/n. Lin curse under her breath as she get up and quietly walks over to the bed then lays down on the bed. Hopefully y/n is asleep. Please be asleep. y/n asked her what happened, and Lin tries to come up with an excuse “your couch is uncomfortable” Lin grumbles as she fluffs the pillow and lays on her back. y/n tells you goodnight and goes back to sleep. Lin looks over to you and starts laying on her side then scoots over and lays behind, spooning you and puts an arm over your waist, laying her head above yours.

Your body seems to relax under her touch as you sleep, sinking further into the bed and you let out a sigh. Falling into a deeper sleep which Lin takes notice as she too finally closes her eyes and falls asleep. You wake up a couple of hours in the middle of the night feeling a tug on your waist. Looking down your attention is on Lin’s arm wrapped around you, a soft smile appears on your lips. Putting your hand over hers, sliding your fingers between hers you pull her hand up your lips and softly kiss each finger. Her fingertips are callused from her work, yet her hand is soft then add another soft kiss on her palm before resting her hand back down near your abdomen. You’re going to miss these kinds of nights where you get to sleep next to Lin. Nights where even though your days are filled with stress, fights, and chaos in the city you were happy with the woman beside you. Sleep takes over once again.

The alarm blares loudly as you press the snooze button and stir in bed groaning no wanting to wake up at 5 in the morning. “wake up or you’re going to be late” Lin grumbles not wanting to close her eyes and you scoot aside so you can turn on your back causing Lin’s arm to wrap around you. “why am I waking this early again” you mumble not opening your eyes either. “Stop…. Unalaq” Lin slowly mumbles as she falls back asleep. You open your eyes and turn your head to look at Lin and smile before you slowly get up and slide out the bed and start to get dressed as quiet as possible to let Lin sleep. While you dress you keep glancing over at Lin and watch how peaceful she looks, your heart filling up and your stomach fluttering. You pack your brace and sleeves in the bag and zip it up, then sit beside Lin putting your hand over her body and gently shake her awake “I’m heading out. You’re welcome to stay whenever. I’ll trust you’ll lock up after you leave” you gently speak to you then you hesitantly lean down and softly kiss her scarred cheek, then whisper softly “don’t get too bruised up and I’ll try to do the same”. You sit up and reach over at your nightstand and write down something before setting the notepad down. Lin woke up when she felt your lips on her cheek and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up when she feels your breath on her cheek when you whisper. Then hears the sound of a pen scribbling down on paper but doesn’t move while you get up gathering your stuff and start walking out. Lin turns over “y/n, don’t get yourself killed.” She softly speaks and you turn your head over your shoulder to look back at her. You’re really going to leave with just a kiss on the cheek?! You drop your bag and walk back to Lin and lean down kissing her deeply “Only if you don’t. I would never live with myself if I didn’t kiss you if something were to happen.” You kiss her again before forcing yourself to step back, grab your bag, kissing your fingers and send her a kiss before turning away and head out. Lin waits until she hears the front door close to turn over and look at what you were scribbling about. She reaches over to the nightstand grabbing the notepad and reads what’s on the paper.

"no matter what happens between us. I'm never quitting on you. I'll always love and protect you, Lin Beifong. yours, y/n." Lin looks down and notices a postscript "P.S. Yes, I know...it's mushy" Lin chuckles at the postscript figured you would have known she would have that exact thought. A smile creeps up on Lin’s face as she turns back onto her side looking at your writing. She settles the paper down on the bed in front of her as she grabs your pillow and pulls it close to her chest hugging it. Lin exhales deeply closing her eyes and allows a tear to creep down her cheek. She opens her eyes once again and looks at the note her eyes resting on the word ‘yours’ as lays another hour in your bed.

“I know I came up with the time, but no one had to listen to me” huff out as you board the ship helping Asami with her bags setting them in the bunks provided in the ship before walking over to the Captain’s deck to review the route to take and start the ship. Soon you take off and are now on route to head on to the south pole. You look back and watch the Republic City skyline slowly disappear a slight pang in your heart as you’re leaving Lin behind, but you both have jobs to do to help the world. You and Asami both walk back to one of the rooms and you drop on your bed while Asami sits on her. You turn your head over to her and pout, “yuan for your thoughts?” as you turn on your side propping your head up with your arm. Asami shakes her head and stands back up walking over to her bag and you sit up “I’m sorry about the whole Mako thing…”. Asami stops and turns around “he’s a jerk” you can clearly tell that she is angered by his infidelity. “yeah, but it’s mature of you to put your relationship aside to help Korra despite Mako being a little wuss,” You stand up and walk over to Asami putting a hand on her shoulder “not many people would do that. You deserve better”. Asami gives you a soft smile thanking you for your words “how are you and Beifong? Mako mentioned she suspended you from the force…did that effect outside of work?” she looks at you and you remove your hand as you walk back to your bed and sit down. Asami following you but sits on her bed instead as you sigh “uh—yeah, after the bust in his apartment Beifong decided to search my place too thinking I was involved since Mako was incriminated. We had this big blow up of a discussion in my bedroom while she searched. She was calling me by just my name…” you looked down at the floor searching for the words “but Beifong usually calls you Lieutenant or adds your name after your title, “she remarked. A laugh escapes your lips “yeah, precisely. When she said my name… I knew this wasn’t a conversation between two colleagues anymore but between two friends? Girlfriends? I don’t know…. people. She was furious, calling me foolish for trusting Mako and believing him. It being inappropriate to go behind her back and undermining her authority. I lied and completely broke her trust… she…she broke things off with me.” you look up at Asami whose face softens when you catch her up on what she missed of her friend, “but Mako was right. You were right. It’s fixed between the two of you, right?” she looks at you hoping there is some good news in the love department between the two of you. you sigh and shrug “I don’t know, I got my job back, no longer suspended. She slept over so that’s a good sign, I think. She probably feels guilty but is too headstrong to admit it.” You laugh “I did say goodbye with a kiss… so there’s that” you run your hand to the back of your neck and rub it softly. “relationships are hard, especially now. Now doesn’t seem to be the right time for one. You know with trying to help the Avatar save the world from impending doom” you quip and laugh trying to lighten the mood. Asami laughs softly then stands up “I’m going to the captain’s desk and try looking for any transmissions from the radio…” you stop her “you’ll be fine, Sami?” you ask, and she gives you a soft nod before walking out the room.

A deep exhale escapes your lips as your ears are filled with the clash of waves hitting the side of the ship, the aroma of saltwater reaches up to your nose while you’re bending a piece of meteorite in the palm of your hand molding it into different figures. Leaning against the railing, our ear perks up when you hear footsteps approaching you causing your head to tilt in that direction of the noise and see Bolin, you lean off the railing, “hey Bolin, how’s it going?” you mold the meteorite into a shape that resembles a silhouette of Pabu. “Hey, y/n! —woah that’s so cool, looks like Pabu?!” his eyes widen as you hand him the piece so he can review it. “yeah” you chuckle a bit as you notice him furrow his eyebrows while he looks at the little metallic piece “everything okay, Bolin?” Bolin looks up and smiles nodding gently “uh…yeah, all good” he hands you back the meteorite as he watches you bend it back to its original state with ease before putting it back in your pocket. You look back at Bolin who looks like he’s conflicting on whether to ask you something and you frown a bit, “you sure you’re good you look like a cat-owl has your tongue” which causes to knock out of his thoughts before he sighs “it’s just I think metalbending is sooooo cool, ever since I’ve read about how Toph Beifong created it I tried to learn but…. I never succeeded.” He looks down leaning against the railing with his head down and you smile softly “well I could teach you if you want” you smile more bumping his shoulder with your own just to see him smile brightly, his eyes filling with excitement and hope “really?!” he jumps up. You shrug “well I’m not the best teacher but there’s no harm in trying” you look down sliding your hand in your pocket and take the meteorite back out then grab Bolin’s hand and open it placing the space rock on his palm.

“oh, so we’re doing this right now…okay” Bolin comments as he starts gets nervous. You shake your head trying to calm him down as you walk him away from the railing just in case he throws the rock overboard. “no need to be nervous, you’ll be fine. Just try to breathe and relax” you squeeze his should reassuringly as he nods and closes his eyes as he breathes and relaxes. As you watch you start to speak to him calmly “Open your mind, you will see that all the elements are one. Four parts of the same whole. Metal is only a form of unprocessed earth that it has been purified and refined. To metalbend, you’re concentrating on finding the trace amounts of “unpurified” raw earth that is still present in the metal, once you target those pieces, you use it to bend the metal itself” you pace around him with your arms around your back as you look at him taking your words in then stand in front of him. “Now, try to bed the metal, focus on the pieces of earth still trapped inside.” You look at his face seeing him straining as he concentrates on the meteorite after a few minutes he gasp out a breath. “Don’t strain yourself, Bolin. Take a few minutes and try again” Bolin nods and gives you a small smile and shakes off his nervous feelings before he tries again and after another 10 minutes he sighs and looks down “it’s no use. I can’t do it…. Maybe I’m not meant to metalbend” his voice pained with defeat as he gives you back the meteorite. You frown and comfort him giving him a hug “hey, don’t give up. Like I said I’m not a very good teacher. Maybe when we get back to Republic City, Chief Beifong can teach you or even Su…”

“Su?” Bolin steps back confused “who’s Su?”

“Beifong’s…. sister”

“Su has a sister?!”

“yeah…. No one better to teach you than one of the daughters of the original metalbender.” You smile folding your arms

“what about Toph Beifong?”

“hmm? Oh I don’t know… I’ve seen Toph once but never really met her. Who knows where she’s at, probably out enjoying retirement or something”

“oh, Cool”

“um, but just in case it should be better not mention this to anyone. I don’t think Chief would want to find out that you know about her personal life. I wouldn’t want you or me to get the wrath of Chief Beifong.”

“yeah…. Chief Beifong is a badass but she terrifies me”

“Exactly, she would probably get us throw in jail or worse, murder us and have it look accidental” you pat him on the shoulder and smile but Bolin’s face seems to lose color. “it’s a joke, Bolin. Relax. Or maybe it isn’t…” you put your finger on your chin thinking about it.

“We’ll just act surprised if its brought up” you shrug “I’m going to find something to eat”

Bolin wakes up from his little fear thoughts “Ok, I’m going to explore the ship and see what I find. You never know what’ll you find in a Varrick ship”. You turn around and start walking away when Bolin calls out to you “hey y/n” you turn your head back over your shoulder “yeah?” he rubs the back of his neck “thanks for trying to teach me. It means a lot” he sheepishly smiles before walking away. You frown a bit sad at yourself that you weren’t able to help Bolin, but you hope it doesn’t break his spirit to keep trying.

Everyone went to bed, you offered to drive the ship and man the controls. Asami offered to stay up with you but she’s been handing all the driving since the morning and you told her it would be best for her to rest. It’s so late at night that you look out at the now pitch black waters. It’s so dark out in front of you feel a weird ominous feeling yet strange sense of calm. You look around at the Captain’s deck and look at the radio, your start to wonder if you would be able to pick up a signal back to Republic City. You take a seat at the table bringing the receiver to your ear as you start turning the knob to and start trying any frequency. “Battleship Zhu Li to com center, do you read me” you try your best with your lingo and try to hear for any feedback from the other end as you try to fumble with the settles. Soon after ten minutes you start to hear a voice “Com center to Battleship Zhu Li. We read you, over” you hear, and you sigh with relief finally able to pick something up. “Glad to hear you command center, can you patch a channel between the Zhu Li to Republic City’s Chief of Police, over” you request the operator “Roger that, Is everything okay out there in the open waters?, over”

“everything is smooth sailing so far, over”

“copy that, patching you through”

“appreciate it”

There is some static and soon it seems to settle, and you bring yourself down and talk softly “Chief Beifong?” you call out but don’t hear anything. You start to think maybe the signal died and was about to put the receiver back before you hear static and a voice “Lieutenant y/n, is that you?!” she sounds surprised to hear you and you chuckle softly “surprised to hear from me, chief?”

“how did you even get patched to me”

“I have my ways”

“is there anyone with you?” Lin asks reluctantly and you wonder why she’s asking but after a couple of seconds you press on the button to respond

“No, everyone is resting. I’m manning the ship. What about you?”

“Sent everyone home to do the same. Stayed to work on paperwork.”

Your fingers jitter on the receiver before you talk again “You know I never fought plenty of people, never dark spirit-- or any spirit for that matter-- so I don’t know what to expect, but on the off chance anything happens…”

“the only thing that is going to happen is that monster being taken down”

“ha, that’s very optimistic, coming from you, Lin”

You hear a small laugh come from her “All I know is if you were to die. I’ll bring you back from wherever you are, just to kill you myself.”

Now it’s you that’s laughing “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

There is another comfortable silence between the two of you which causes to ask if you’re still there or did the signal die.

“y/n?”

“I’m still here honey” you say without thinking but you realize what you said. Lin hasn’t responded back “sorry, it slipped out”

“it’s okay… at least…you’re still here”

“I know we didn’t get to talk about us before I left but…”

“just come back to me alive, y’n”

“I will. I’ll come back to you however many times you’ll allow me” your heart races as Lin’s words come back to me causes your stomach to flutter with butterflies.

“Alive” she retorts sternly

“Of course alive, Lin”

You wait a couple of seconds “I…I wish you were here beside me” you confess to Lin. You wished you were beside her curled up in bed holding her or being in her arms.

“I wish you were here with me, but what are we to do. You left to help the Avatar.” She quipped at you causing you roll to your eyes and smile “You were invited to come along, but you wouldn’t leave your precious city”

“Someone had to make sure it doesn’t get destroyed so we’ll still have a place to live”

“There are other places babe”

“Not like Republic City”

“That’s true” you agree, there is not a place anywhere else in the world like Republic City.

You and Lin continue on your conversation throughout the late hours of the night trying to help each other forget of the stress of the dangers in the night. It wasn’t until you notice a silver of sunlight starting to creep up on the horizon that you notice morning is starting. A few minutes later you hear a little snore coming from Lin’s transmission and you smile realizing she fell asleep. “I love you” you whisper into the receiver before ending the transmission on the private channel. A rub your eyes then cheeks as you smile feeling better and filled with motivation to take Unalaq down and end the war. A couple of hours later Asami comes to relieves you and you thank her going back to your bunk to sleep for a couple of hours.

“okay, I think I’m done sparing…. try hitting that hay filled dummy over there instead” you grumble as you push yourself off ground Korra offering a hand which you take and rub your shoulder. “I didn’t rough you up too much did I?” Korra smirked and you laugh “not at all, don’t want to hurt you before we even make it to the South Pole” you rebutted and smirk folding your arms. “oh ha ha very funny” Korra furrows as Tenzin advises Korra to keep training and she nods working on her airbending skills while you stand beside Tenzin to watch Korra. You glance at Tenzin and frown a bit “I’m sorry to hear about your daughter, Tenzin. I’m optimistic that she’ll pull through and get her back safely,” you speak softly as you continue watching Korra. Tenzin looks down sadden “Thank you, y/n. I’m worried for Jinora I hope she can stay strong for a little while more. This is all my fault…”

“It’s not your fault, Tenzin. It’s heartbreaking as a parent to see your child hurt and feeling hopeless, but you must stay strong for her. I know we all came along to help Korra but we’re for just the same reasons for you. Who is with Jinora now?”

Tears form at the corner of Tenzin’s eyes, but he quickly composes himself “Thank you, y/n. That means a lot, and Kya is with her now circulating the energy flow in Jinora’s body.” You nod understanding as both of you go back to watching Korra. “I’m gonna join Bumi and Oogi up above” you bend a cable out and scale up the ship doing a flip and land beside Bumi petting Oogi before taking a seat beside Bumi listening to Bumi play his flute. Bumi turns to you “so you a friend of the Korra?” Bumi takes a small break from playing and you shrug “yeah, I think we’ve established a friendship it started off rocky since she destroyed several shops on her first day in the city. Quite the entrance”

“nothing like a big entrance for an Avatar” Bumi and you exchange a laugh

“Actually, I’m close friends with Asami and I work as a Lieutenant with Chief Beifong in Republic City” you lean back against Oogi.

“well well quite a title for a young fighter”

“Hey! I’m 27, a hard worker and very ambitious.” You smirk looking down to keep watching Korra practice though an amused face creeps up on you when you see Bolin in a weird purple coat thing.

“oh so you’re another ruler stickler like Tenzin and a hardass like Linny” he gruff as he fiddles with his flute and you shake your head and laugh out loud “Linny? I thought she didn’t like being called that” your eyes widen when you said that and dart to Bumi your cheeks blushing coming up with an excuse “I—uh-- accidentally called her that and she practically chewed my ass on the training ground”

Bumi eyes you but shrugs it off and laughs hearing that you almost got bodied by Lin “She’s not here to stop me” you sigh of relief before laughing again “no, not at all, I just got reinstated last night. When I got suspended for going behind Beifong’s back when Mako and I were doing the investigation that led to Varrick.

“oh, it takes some real guts to go behind Linny. I don’t think even Tenzin would do something like that. He’s too much of a chicken to try!” He smiles mischievously as he yelled that last part enough for Tenzin to hear.

“I heard that, Bumi!” Tenzin yelled back. You and Bumi look at each other and laugh

“oh we made the airhead angry” Bumi teased as you quietly chuckle “We should stop the teasing for now, unless you want to be knocked overboard by one of his air punches.”

Bumi huffs and leans over to you and smirks “ha, Tenzin doesn’t scare me” before he leans back to his side and goes back to playing his flute.

Tenzin seems rather annoyed by the teasing you and Bumi caused, which wasn’t helping his feelings about Jinora. He used his frustrations and directed it to give Korra direction in her training. “Unalaq will be waiting for you. you’ll need all of your avatar power to stop him.”

“I’m going to close the spirit portals, lock Vaatu in for another 10,000 years, and make Unalaq wish he’d was never born!” Korra sends a large fire punch to the hay dummy that knocks it’s head off in the direction towards Mako

“wow Hayward didn’t stand a chance” you muttered which Bumi heard and made him cackle “Hayward?! Nice” you smile and laugh along with him. Bumi laughs seems infectious it could be his kid like spirit always trying to keep the spirits up in the group. It helps especially when we’re about to face a crazy power hungry water tribe chief preventing an impending doom.

You hear a door open and you scoot over to the edge to see who it is and see it’s Kya. You keep having a nagging feeling that you know Kya from somewhere, but you brush it off. “As soon as we reach the southern water tribe….”

“we should probably make our way down, need a hand?” you look at Bumi “nah I got it. I don’t need special bending to get down”

you smirk “I wasn’t going to bend”

“you never mentioned your name”

“it’s y/n” you smile

“well y/n, here’s to some crazy adventures”

you give him a salute before you scoot forward and start sliding down the wall landing beside Kya. Kya startles a bit not hearing you come down, you mouth out a sorry, she smiles softly before giving her attention back to Tenzin ”..we’ll blast through the blockade at the main port. Then we can rendezvous with Tonraq and his troops, crash through the defenses and around the portal, and enter the spirit world.”

“woah, since when does my little brother want to crash or blast through anything?” Kya brings her hands up in the air as she looks at her Tenzin.

“yeah… don’t airbenders usually take more of a defensive approach?” you look at Tenzin confused while you cross your arms.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to save my daughter.” Tenzin raises his voice.

“We all want to save Jinora, but I think your plan might be a tad overaggressive, seeing as there are only eight of us and one ship.” Bumi comments on Tenzin’s plan which you agree with Bumi it’s too much of an aggressive approach which can be reckless. Tenzin turns over to Bumi crossing his arms “Really? And what do you suggest?”

“An attack like this calls for strategy. I remember when I was surrounded by pirates in the hurricane straits. We managed to capture them all with just a feather, two eggs, and a barrel of molasses.” Bumi goes off telling a crazy war story to which Tenzin interrupts him “I don’t want to hear any of your crazy stories now! This is serious.” Bumi stops and pouts crossing his arms looking away. Kya looks at you confused of who you are, and you glance at her “sorry, I’m y/n. we never gotten the chance to formally meet.” You extend a hand and shake Kya’s hand “yeah, I saw you at the Glacier Spirits festival then that whole spirit attack. I’m Kya, Tenzin’s cool older sister, but I’m sure you knew that” you smile and nod your head as you look at her eyes. That necklace look oddly familiar. I think I've seen those eyes before too “yeah, I’ve heard a few things” which causes Kya to raise an eyebrow “oh? If you heard it from Tenzin, it’s a lie unless it was something nice then it was true” she smiles as she nudges her little brother, but you shake your head laughing softly “All good things, don’t worry” your attention is diverted when you hear footsteps coming behind you and turn around to see Asami “Hey Sami, were you able to contact the South Pole?”

“yeah”

“Are we almost there?” Bolin cuts in and he and Mako joins the group

“Almost. But I just picked up a distress signal from the southern troops. There’s a problem.”

#linbeifong #lin x reader #lin beifong x reader #fanfic #TLOK2UnderPressure #fyrefics #linxreader #linbeifongxreader #linbeifong x reader

9 notes · View notes

zaggitz · 4 years ago

Text

Top Ten Games of 2020

This year being the shitshow that it was, I ended up playing quite a few games I missed out on last year! First though, my lists from the previous years:

2015 - 2016 - 2017 - 2018 - 2019

I like having my actual top ten being games that came out the year of but here's a few games that would have been on my list last year if I had played them:

Control

Really fun gameplay and a great weird world to play around in that scratched that weird cryptid/scp itch in a really satisfying way. I still have the final DLC left but I'm excited to do a full replay of the game at some point down the line

Outer Wilds

This game was worthy of all the praise it got last year and more. Amazingly crafted clockwork world with great lore and characters and an absolute blast to explore and get lost in- and then explore and get lost in- and then explore and get lost in- and then explore and get lost in- and then explore and oh damn is that a singularity cool I wonder what happens if I- and then explore and get lost WOAH there's two of me now!

I wish I could forget this game and play it for the first time all over again.

Honorable Mention:

Ghost of Tsushima

This game is an absolute blast to play and has some of the best seamless open world navigation I’ve experienced in the genre. How much I love playing the game is however at odds with how much I LOATHE its absolute horseshit main story. Might check out the multiplayer mode some time since it’s all the stuff I liked and none of the bad stuff.

Now for the actual list:

10. Man Eater

This game scratched a deep PS2/PS3 B game itch that I've had since probably the last Saint's Row game came out. It's nothing special but I had a really fun time with this weird, bite-sized(heh) comedy game.

9. Ori and the Will of the Wisps

Ori 2 is in every way a massive improvement from the first game. The mechanics feel tighter, the level design is a lot more open and freeform, the writing feels sharper and the addition of tons of new characters with lots of dialogue helps flesh out this very beautiful world the designers at Moon Studio have crafted. I played this game on Switch and it played pretty smoothly though it was extremely jarring seeing XBOX GAME STUDIOS upon loading the game up on a Nintendo console.

8. The House in Fata Morgana: Reincarnation

This epilogue to the previous two visual novels did a fantastic job of closing out all the characters personal arcs and rounded out the story in a really good way that didn't choke me up at all, shut up.

7. Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity

Now here's one I didn't expect to get sucked into as much as I did. There are a lot of plot expectations coming into this game from Breath of the Wild and it takes no time at all for HW2 to subvert the shit out of them. It toes the line really well between being both a prequel and a pseudo sequel really well and the combat is that good chunky big musou stuff I love. It also doesn't have any Imprisoned fights so it's immediately better than HW1.

6. Final Fantasy 7 Remake

Speaking of pseudo sequels... This game was just an absolute blast. The combat is hectic and strategic in a really satisfying way. The way it fleshes out all the characters from the early parts of FF7 while also having kicking rad world building and a few(not enough) new areas entirely ruled and much like HW2 it absolutely loves to set up expectations from the original game and flip them on their heads. I can't wait to see this shit go off the rails in the eventual sequel.

5. Animal Crossing: New Horizons

I have like 300 hours logged into this game at this point. I've never been much of an AC guy but boy did this game luck out by coming out just in time for me quarantining at home for 7 weeks. I don't really have a lot to say about the game itself, I'm just glad I had it to occupy my time during the start of this hellshow.

4. The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel 4

This game has some of the highest highs in the Trails series along with some of the absolute lowest lows. It's an absolute mess especially on the romance side of things but CS4 also wraps up longstanding plot threads from like 7 games prior with surprising amounts of finesse so the pros ended up outweighing the cons for me overall. This series was a core example of scope getting out of hand over and over. In a world where these games are tighter paced and end up being the 2 games they planned instead of 4 I could see this being a top contender. Sadly that wasn't the case.

Now that the arc of these games is over I'm excited to see if they can return to form with the next one.

3. Hades

Amazing combat, amazing writing, well integrated roguelite elements and plot, dope ass music, this game's got it all baby. The amount of variety and build potential on hand makes me constantly excited to hit up a new run.

2. The Legend of Heroes: Trails from Zero

Take all my complaints out of the CS4 blurb and this (finally) fan-translated version of the first game in the second Trails arc is what you get. This game had some of the best worldbuilding in the series due to it taking place entirely in one huge Hong Kong style city. It closed out a major and extremely emotionally satisfying plot thread from the first 3 games and ends on such a fantastic high note of a finale. Trails fans who haven't touched Crossbell yet, don't miss out!

1. Yakuza: Like a Dragon

Why is Yakuza 7 my favorite game of the year? It’s not the brand new, huge city to explore filled with stuff to do. It’s not the shift to JRPG combat that works extremely well in context and gets really fun by the end of the game. It’s not the fact that this is easily the funniest game I’ve played all year, and hell, maybe ever. It’s also not the way the game perfectly closes out the Era of the last seven games while ushering in a new, extremely exciting one.

It’s because the new protagonist, Kasuga Ichiban, is not Kazuma Kiryu.

Let me back-up for a sec. This game’s biggest change above all else is the shift to a new protagonist. Now, for a Yakuza game, having a different protagonist isn’t normally a huge deal; we had new guys in 4, 5 and Judgement. But they all functioned within the narrative framework established by Kiryu.

Kiryu is a character whose core philosophy I feel can be broken down into one sentence: Don’t let anyone stand in the way of you living your life the way you want to live it. Every main story in Yakuza 0-6 revolves around this philosophy, as do most of the substories. Kiryu only gets involved in a game’s main story when he has no choice, because something is threatening the life he wishes he could be living. Hell, if anything, you could argue his ending in 6 is him finally accepting he can’t have the life he wants if he wants the people in it to be safe.

So when RGG studios created a new protagonist, built around a whole new combat style, they also had to change the philosophy behind their storytelling.

Kasuga Ichiban is a character who, after this first game at least, to me has a core philosophy of: Everybody deserves to be alive, to be seen, to be helped and to be understood. The changes this brings to the story are incredible and lead to one of the most emotionally satisfying games I’ve ever played.

Sure, this is a Yakuza game, with it’s typical conspiracies and crime melodrama, but it’s also a game about the dehumanization of homeless people and sex workers. A game about the rampat mistreatment of immigrants and elderly people. A game about the dangers of rampant puritanical nationalism.

That it manages to be all those things so loudly and proudly is something that could only happen with a loud, rambunctious, heart on his sleeve type of guy like Kasuga Ichiban driving it.

Also the reason it’s a JRPG now is because he’s a huge Dragon Quest nerd, and you get to summon a crawfish named Nancy to kill people. Game of the Year.

#game of the year

5 notes · View notes

scabopolis · 5 years ago

Text

emma x killian au: a bit of disaster, a bit of magic

Holy moly! This (really needs to be edited one more time, but we’ll save that for AO3, shall we?) monstrosity is my gift to @hollyethecurious for the @cssecretsanta2k19 (thank you for your tireless work on this!), and is my first attempt at Emma x Killian fic (eek!).

Hollye, what a joy to chat with you over the past month. I present to you a wordy as all getout friends to lovers fic that takes place over six holidays (five holidays with a bit of disaster, and one with a bit of magic), a soupçon of Captain Cobra, and brief appearances by older brother Liam, as well as (one hopes!) romance and a whole host of other good things. Hope it brings some joy to your season. And I’m thrilled to be able to start following you on Tumblr now and send messages without fear!

And I swear -- post-road trip, a more edited version will also appear on AO3. Happy holidays!

---------- title: a bit of disaster, a bit of magic fandom: once upon a time pairing: emma x killian word count: 12,400 | AO3 link: here ----------

summary: When Killian and Emma first meet on Thanksgiving she has some rather unsavory words for him. But then they somehow manage to navigate a series of holiday disasters together. In so doing they also stumble upon a bit of holiday magic.

Thanksgiving Or, the holiday where Emma calls Killian a pervert

As far as holidays go, Killian finds this Thanksgiving to be relatively textbook. Liam and Kate both made far too much food, took utter delight in teasing him for his lack of love life, and then he went home laden with abundant leftovers.

Only for things to rapidly become significantly less than textbook. It all started when he poured himself a glass of wine at home.

Home: the place wherein he poured himself the aforementioned glass of wine as he began to wind down for the evening, and then somehow proceeded to spill all but a single gulp on his bedding. Bedding: the freshly laundered, high thread-count duvet and sheets, put on the bed this morning, now soaked with Malbec.

With one set of sheets in the hamper and the second set wine soaked, Killian tossed back the remaining gulp of wine and resigned himself to an evening of doing laundry. On Thanksgiving.

In retrospect, Killian knows he should have just taken his brother and sister-in-law up on their kind offer to stay the night, but he’d found himself emotionally overwhelmed by the end of the night. Over dessert and coffee Liam and Kate informed him they were likely going to start trying for their first kiddo in the new year. And as excited as Killian is at the prospect of having a little nephew or niece to dote on next Christmas, it also served as a reminder of how close he’d gotten to having it all once. And how it doesn’t seem at all likely he’ll ever get that close again.

These kinds of maudlin thoughts are exactly why Killian poured himself that glass of wine. Wine that, as Killian holds the clean sheets up to the light in the laundry room, quite remarkably seems to have not stained. He does the complicated hand twisting and folding technique his mum once showed him and sets aside the fitted sheet, reaching for the flat sheet.

Killian hears the door to the shared laundry room open behind him as one of his neighbors enters. He slides his stacks of laundry together to make room on the folding table and is about to greet whoever walked in, commiserate over their fate of doing laundry on a —

“So, is this a normal thing you do on Thanksgiving, you sick pervert?”

Okay. Maybe not.

He turns around slowly to meet the steely gaze of one of his neighbors whom he’s seen from time to time in the mail room and hallways (and once in a rather lurid dream he still feels guilty about). “Do I normally do laundry on Thanksgiving? I wouldn’t consider it a tradition as such, but —”

“No. I mean steal women’s underwear.”

“Pardon?”

She steps closer only to swipe a pair of his briefs off the table. The pair of underwear is, admittedly, a little absurd, but nothing quite warranting such a vitriolic reaction. They’re the rare white elephant gift he actually opted to keep. Aside from being the most comfortable pair he owns, he quite enjoys the whimsical print of yetis sledding and decorating Christmas trees. He takes a step towards her and she backs up.

“What is wrong with you?” she asks.

“I’m not certain what is happening here.”

“What’s happening is, you’re a sick fuck.”

He frowns. That seems, to put it mildly, uncalled for. “Okay, hold on now —” he takes another step towards her

“You stay there,” she demands, pointing a finger at him.

He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. He has so lost the thread of this conversation. And he really should have just stayed at Liam’s house for the night. “I won’t come near you, lass, but if you could return my trunks I would —”

The indignation on her face makes her appear incandescent. “Yours?!”

“Yes, mine.”

His neighbor starts sputtering and then she goes silent, her jaw clenching in a way that is, if he were to be honest, rather intimidating. Still, Killian does (for some unknown reason that would likely require a good amount of therapy), what he so often finds himself doing whenever he meets his match: he smiles.

His smile only makes the frown lines on her face deepen.

“Look,” he says, in his most sensible tone of voice. “Do you really believe I would be daft enough to steal your undergarments and then remain in the laundry folding them knowing any moment you might return?”

It’s only for a split second, but her features relax as she considers his words. Then she full on glares at him, clutching the briefs in her fist. But then her eyes dart to one of the dryers on the wall.

“Have a look,” he says, gesturing with his head to the dryer.

“Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

She remains true to her word, keeping one eye on him as she opens the dryer and roots around inside. He knows she’s found what she’s looking for when he hears her groan. “Fuck me,” she mutters to herself, and then pulls out a pair of briefs identical to his own.

She groans again. “This isn’t possible.”

“Yet here we are.”

She shuffles over and hands him back his briefs. Killian has to actively work to keep in his laugh as he watches her remove her clothing from the dryer and start another load. From the way the pink in her cheeks burns brighter, she’s aware of his gaze.

“So, is this a normal thing you do on Thanksgiving?” he asks. And there’s that rather becoming jaw clench of hers. “Accuse men of stealing your underwear, I mean?”

She remains silent and Killian decides to show mercy, finishing up his folding and stacking the clothes in his basket. His neighbor gives him a wide berth as she carries her laundry basket on her hip and leaves - no, flees - the room. But not before she mutters an apology. “Sorry if I, uh, said — you know?”

“Now, what could you have possibly said?” he asks, all faux innocence.

If possible, her blush gets even brighter. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Once back in his flat he texts Liam the whole story. As he putters around, remaking his bed and pouring himself another glass of wine, he bursts out into little chuckles of laughter replaying the scenario. Laughter which Liam echoes in emoji form once he responds. Frankly, this woman is Killian’s hero (Liam's too, as he offered to buy her a gift basket for helping keep Killian's ego in check). Maybe he’ll see her in the mail room and can assure her of her place of honor in Jones family lore.

He’s settling into the couch with a book when there’s a knock. Killian frowns, his eyes darting to his wall clock. It’s somehow only half-eight, but he isn’t expecting anyone. He looks out his peephole and smiles at the sight of one his young neighbors holding a platter of baked goods. They’ve only chatted in the elevator and occasionally in the halls but Henry is a warm and charming young man, and Killian always looks forward to their interactions. Which doesn’t explain why he —

“Mom, get your butt over here.”

“You knocked, he didn’t answer. He’s probably asleep.” And then the woman from the laundry room comes into view and it all makes a little more sense.

“When you mess up, you apologize. Those are the rules.”

“The rules for what?” she asks.

“For life.”

“Who taught you these rules?”

“You did.”

She huffs out an exasperated laugh, but wraps an arm around Henry’s shoulder and pulls him close. “God, why couldn’t I suck more as a parent?”

Killian decides to put her out of her misery and answer the door. Young Henry looks delighted at his appearance, and his mom appears miserable. Like she wants nothing more than to sprint in the other direction.

“Mr. Jones! Happy Thanksgiving! This is my mom, Emma.”

“Sir Henry, Happy Thanksgiving to you.” He looks to Henry’s mom. “And to your lovely mum.”

Henry shoves the platter of treats at him and Killian bobbles it before holding it steady. “These are for you!” Henry needlessly explains. It’s a platter teeming with pumpkin pie, cookies, and some sort of toffee almond concoction that looks delightful. “My Aunt Mary-Margaret is the world’s best cook,” Henry says.

“Well, thank you, Henry. And please give my thanks to your aunt.”

“I will. Now my mom has something she wants to say to you.” Emma looks ready to protest but then Henry smiles up at her, his grin wide and toothy and she shakes her head, affection for her son apparent. “Goodnight, Mr. Jones.”

Emma watches as Henry walks down to the end of the hallway, unlocks the door, gives his mom a thumbs up, and walks inside. Once inside, Emma turns to him and mumbles something barely audible.

“I’m sorry. What was that, love?”

She huffs out a breath, fluttering a strand of her hair in the process. “I said, I’m sorry for calling you a pervert.”

“And?”

“And for trying to steal your underwear?”

“What about for calling me a sick fuck?”

“I did not!” she protests, but at his look her brow furrows in concentration. “Oh my god. I did, didn’t I?” She shifts her weight from side to side and he’s pretty certain he hears her mutter another curse word under her breath. She looks up and locks eyes with him. For a moment all he can think is wow, green, but she starts talking again. “Look, Henry and I had a really great day at my sister’s house but then I got this message from my ex, Henry’s dad, and to be honest it sent me into a bit of a tailspin. So then I go grab my laundry and there you are with a very peculiar pair of underwear and all I could think was ‘not today, asshole’ and then — well, you were there. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven, Emma.” Then it’s his turn to frown, gesturing towards the direction Henry walked as he leans against his doorway. “How did you know who I am?”

“Oh, I mentioned what happened to Henry and he asked me to describe the neighbor.”

“Smart kid.”

“Yeah.” She fidgets again, kind of shaking the tension out of her hands as she rocks back on her heels. “Well, I…that’s all, I wanted to say, so…”

“Nice to meet you, Emma. And Happy Thanksgiving.” She backs away from the door giving him a perfunctory little wave. For some reason, after he closes and locks the door, he finds himself looking through the peephole to watch Emma’s retreat. She lingers outside the door for a second before smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand and then does an entirely unbecoming and yet endearing full body shake and flail, tossing her head back and groaning. She appears to catch herself, and Killian watches as she looks to his door. Her eyes close in resignation. “You saw that didn’t you?”

“Every single second.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Killian.”

Christmas Eve Or, the holiday where Killian almost freezes

It’s a working theory of hers, but Emma is willing to argue with anyone who cares that Christmas Eve is far superior to Christmas. The whole day is filled with baking, and listening to Christmas music, and lighting every baked good themed candle she owns. Plus! she doesn’t have to wake up to an overeager eight year old shaking her at dawn. It’s wonderful.

As she stores the vacuum in the hall closet (one last round of pre-festivity cleaning), her phone vibrates. She pulls it out of her pocket, smiling when she sees it’s a text from Killian.

Texts from Killian: another thing that is wonderful these days, if not unexpected.

11:12 AM - Killian to Emma My oven is on the fritz. Can I use yours for a bit?

11:13 AM - Emma to Killian Define ‘a bit’…

11:14 AM - Killian to Emma Ok. Less ‘a bit’ and more ‘a while.’

11:15 AM - Killian to Emma And by 'a while' I mean the rest of the day.

Emma snorts at that one.

11:17 AM - Emma to Killian It’s all yours. Though, I thought your fruit cake would be in door stop mode by now?

11:19 AM - Killian to Emma For the last time, woman, it’s not a bloody fruit cake.

When Killian proudly told her and Henry over Saturday morning pancakes he was preparing a classic Christmas cake for their Christmas Eve celebration, and then proceeded to explain the weeks long process behind making the cake, Henry frowned. “I think that’s a fruit cake.”

Which was the first, but certainly not the last time, Killian insisted: “It certainly is not!” And then Killian proceeded to explain, again, what a Christmas cake was.

From Killian’s explanation of how to prepare it, though, there shouldn’t be any baking required today. Which begs the question as to exactly what Killian is doing. As the host of the event, Emma is only responsible for appetizers (thank you Trader Joe’s), and booze with the rest of the guests bringing the meal.

A meal which apparently includes a British man she met a month ago, bringing a fruit cake to the Christmas Eve celebration with her family and closest friends. What is her life?

Dare she say it, life is pretty great these days. And Killian is definitely part of why that is.

After their ignominious beginning, she and Killian found themselves bumping into one another constantly. If they didn’t cross paths in the mail room, hallway, or elevator, it was Henry - her kid who would find a way to make friends with a paper bag if given the opportunity - who started inviting Killian to join them everywhere. While on their way to the movies it was a “hey, Killian, wanna come?” More than a few times Henry went to check the mail as Emma cooked dinner and when he returned Killian was with him. “I told him all about your chicken and dumplings, mom!”

Somehow Killian joining them for chicken and dumplings turned into the two of them texting throughout the day — Killian in between clients at the physical therapy clinic, and Emma whenever she needed a break from real estate contracts — and then a second glass of wine once Henry went to bed. Apparently, unbeknownst to Emma, this was all leading to Killian celebrating Christmas Eve with her family and friends. Oh, and coming over the next day for Christmas morning pancakes.

Despite what her sister and brother-in-law would like people to believe, Killian is only spending the holidays with them because his brother left for his in-laws earlier in the week and Henry didn’t want him to spend the holiday alone. That’s it! If it was more than that, would she be okay with Killian coming over while she was in her cleaning clothes? Obviously not. So, suck it universe.

Killian shows up ten minutes later looking fine and not at all biteable in a truly horrendous Christmas sweater that no one has a right to look as…completely adequate…in as he does. His arms are laden with grocery bags.

“All this for a fruitcake?”

“Christmas cake. And no. That has been done for some time, as you well know. I told Mary-Margaret I’d make Yorkshire puddings to go with the prime rib. And Liam would disown me if I didn’t make mince pies.”

“How British of you.”

“Well, I am British.”

“You know what I mean.” Emma grabs him an apron so he doesn’t mess up his Christmas sweater and as he makes himself at home, she buzzes around getting the apartment ready - pulling the folding chairs and table out of the closet, making sure Henry has enough clean clothes to wear for dinner, etc. Henry spends the day floating in and out of the kitchen to bug Killian. He plays his video games for a little bit and then is back to the kitchen and gets annoyed because there’s not enough room for him to make a sandwich. He is only appeased when Killian reveals he brought over leftover Chinese.

“Why did you bring so much extra food?” she asks, ignoring Killian’s disapproving stare as she bites into a cold eggroll. She’s pretty sure he also brought over a gallon of milk and what looks like leftover roasted vegetables. Weird.

“Do you know what the two of you are like when you’re not fed?” Killian shudders in horror, and Emma smacks him in the back of the head. She also pinches mince pie filling to be a brat.

When she comes out in her loungewear, after having showered, there is the most wonderful smell of cinnamon in the air. Before she even asks Killian hands her a mug of mulled wine. How did she even get this and what does she have to do to keep it forever? Emma freezes at the thought. By this she means his friendship. Obviously.

Once Mary-Margaret and David, then Ruby and Mulan arrive, the evening, dare she even thinks it, is borderline perfect. Continuing the British Christmas theme, Killian brought Christmas crackers from World Market. Henry got so excited at the hat and little joke in his that he hug bombed Killian and the poor man spilled his hot chocolate down the front of his sweater. Henry apologizes profusely, but Killian assures him it’s okay, losing the sweater for just a black tee underneath. Which, again, is fine and makes Killian look fine and Emma really needs the commentary in her head to quiet down.

“Hate to see a Christmas casualty,” David muses as Killian tosses the sweater aside.

“True, but good things tend to happen to me when I do laundry on a holiday,” he replies.

And Mary-Margaret gets this wide knowing grin, which Emma does not care for at all, but her heart is currently beating fast enough that she lets it pass.

The high-point of the night might be when Mary-Margaret serves slices of Killian’s Christmas cake alongside her caramel apple pie. Ruby holds up her plate, sniffs Killian’s cake, and with a perfectly cocked eyebrow simply asks “Fruit cake?” Henry almost falls out of his chair laughing.

Mulan and Ruby are the first to leave, needing to get to Granny’s where they’re staying the night. Killian offers to stay and help clean up but Emma refuses. The man spent all day cooking in her kitchen – she’s not going to make him clean, too. But when Henry hugs him goodnight and tells him they’ll see him for pancakes, Emma has to admit she’s a little sad to see him shuffle down the hallway back to his own apartment.

Henry proceeds to line up his mom, his aunt, and his uncle, debating as to who deserves to read to him that night. David wins the privilege outright when, upon Henry asking each of them to share their Percy Jackson voice, he actually recites from memory an excerpt from the book Henry is currently reading. Fucking show-off.

Mary-Margaret doesn’t even wait for them to leave the kitchen before she looks at Emma like she must say something or she’ll burst. As Emma is want to do, she ignores it. No wonder David lobbied so hard to get the bedtime story invitation. The two were in cahoots. As they do dishes, Mary-Margaret keeps dropping conversational breadcrumbs =, waiting for Emma to take one up. Which Emma steadfastly fails to do. So Mary-Margaret stops being subtle.

“So, Killian was here all day, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Huh,” Mary-Margaret says, drying a wine glass and setting it aside. “Interesting.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“Do I?”

“God, you’re annoying,” Emma says, smacking her shoulder with the back of her hand.

Mary-Maragret frowns and does it right back. “I like Killian.”

“He’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

“And I think you like Killian, too.”

Emma glares at her. “Well, he’s my friend.”

“Who you very much would like to be a naked friend.”

“Mary-Margaret!”

“What?”

She steals the towel away from Mary-Margaret and snaps her with it. “Can we be done with this conversation?”

“No. Because I have something important to say to you.” Emma groans and Mary-Margaret takes a step forward, placing a hand on either side of Emma’s face. “I know you think you’ve got this bruised and battered heart. But that’s not true, Emma. You have the most open heart of anyone I’ve ever known. And I don’t know how you do it, but as someone you let see that big beautiful heart, I just need you to know how lucky I am to have you in my life. Anyone would be so lucky to have you. So be brave.”

Emma feels her eyes go glassy and seriously! Mary-Margaret has been in her life for more than twenty-years. How does she always do this to her? She reaches forward and hugs Mary-Margaret tight, blinking the tears back.

“I love you,” Mary-Margaret says.

“Shut up.” Emma holds her even tighter. “I love you, too.”

After Mary-Margaret and David leave she gives Henry a final tuck into bed then takes a moment to look around the apartment. The space feels emptier than when the day started. It must be the come down from an almost perfect night. Right? Not like she’s feeling morose because there’s a person down the hall who she very much wishes was still currently in her apartment. Someone to perhaps share leftover pie and a glass of wine with. That would be absurd. It’s just that the whole night felt a little magic, and now it’s over.

Emma blows out the living room candles and that’s when she sees it — Killian’s ugly Christmas sweater draped over the back of the couch. Which Emma immediately decides she should return to Killian. It’s urgent. That sweater could mean a lot to him. Or, something.

She locks up the apartment door and heads to Killian’s. Knocking on the door triggers a feeling of panic and she’s tempted to drop the sweater and run. But then he opens the door and his already bright eyes somehow get brighter. This was the right decision.

“Emma! What are you —”

“You forgot your sweater.”

“Thanks, love.”

She immediately notices that his apartment is very dark. Was he already getting ready for bed? This early? She stands up on her tiptoes to peek, and his smile falls. Killian wedges himself into the doorframe, closing the door behind him and obstructing her view. Emma narrows her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

“Do you have someone over?”

“No. I’m just —”

“Why are all your lights off?”

“Being energy efficient. Climate change.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Huh. Fine, then. You should probably stain treat this,” she says, and hands him the sweater.

“Thank you.” He reaches for it and the moment he does Emma pushes him aside to crash into his apartment. All the lights are off. He's lit a few candles, and oh fuck. Does he have someone over?

“Killian, your lights are off.”

“What do you call those?” he asks, pointing to the three-wick sugar cookie candle Mary-Margaret got him.

“Killian.” It’s a tone that usually convinces Henry he in fact does need to wear socks with his shoes but simply causes Killian to smirk at her.

“Maybe I want to romance myself, Swan.”

“Gross. All your lights are off," she repeats. "Even the light on your microwave.”

He looks like he wants to protest but must sense she is in a particularly stubborn mood because he stops himself. If she weren’t trying to get him to fess up Emma would take a moment to gloat that the look always works.

“I was working on a project this afternoon and think I crossed some wires,” he says, running a hand through his hair in, she presumes, some mild embarrassment.

“More than your oven is on the fritz," she realizes, making sense of why there is currently milk in her fridge. "Isn’t it?”

“Seems that way.”

“Well did you —?”

“Aye, I tried, but it didn’t work, and with the holiday the electrician isn’t able to come until Thursday..”

“Well, why not call —?”

“How do you think Leroy is going to feel about me doing an undisclosed wiring project and killing the —?”

“—yeah, I get it. Look, I need to get back to Henry, but pack a bag and I’ll see you soon.”

“Do what now?”

“It’s going to be 12 degrees tonight, Killian. You are not staying in this apartment without power.”

Emma watches as he mulls over her words, considering whether or not he should abide by them. “I could sleep on your couch and then away to my flat in the morning.”

She shrugs. “Or, you could pack a bag.” A little voice inside her head, the one that sounds suspiciously like Mary-Margaret is cheering her on. Telling her to press a little more. That it’s worth it. “Come on, Killian. You can’t freeze to death on Christmas Eve. Imagine how that would play on the evening news.”

He laughs, shaking his head in that way he does. If she isn’t mistaken, it's tinged with a little more affectionate every time. “Depressingly, I imagine.” He breaks eye contact long enough to look down at his slippered feet. For all the times he’s made her blush in their month of friendship, it is ridiculously rewarding to see the tinge of red on his cheeks as he looks up at her. “I’d love to join you and Henry for Christmas.”

Emma dashes home and checks on Henry. He is, predictably, still fast asleep in that way he most frequently is — legs akimbo and sticking out of the blankets like he’s preparing to start running the moment he wakes up.

As she waits for Killian she changes into her pajamas and makes two hot chocolates, adding an extra large dollop of leftover whipped cream to the top pf each.

Killian’s knock is borderline inaudible and it makes her smile, how she knows he’s being careful for Henry’s sake. She takes his bag and invites him to get comfortable on the couch — “it will soon be your bed, after all” — and, as has become the habit, they face each other as they sit there. There’s a lot she loves about their friendship, but high on the list is the way their conversations always start in the middle rather than at the start. She loathes small talk.

“Your family and friends are lovely, Swan.”

“Eh,” she says, scrunching her nose in consideration, “they’re alright.”

“You and your sister appear rather close in age.”

She nods. “We’re only a year and a half apart.” Killian smiles, like he is happy to accept that as a complete answer if she so chooses. And maybe it’s that she’s listening to her sister, or maybe it’s Christmas, or maybe it’s that Killian faintly smells of his sugar cookie candle, but she takes a deep breath and sets her mug on the coffee table. “I’m adopted, actually.”

He hesitates, uncertain. “Emma, I didn’t mean to —” She doesn't want him to be uncertain.

“I was with a family for three years and they couldn’t keep me. I was so young that my social worker really didn’t want to put me in a group home, so they opted for short-term care while they searched for a permanent solution. But at the end of the two weeks, when they got ready to move me to a new home, Mary-Margaret had an utter fit. Refused to let anyone near me when she found out they wanted to take me away. And then she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into her room, barricaded the door, and we hid under her bed. She was five.”

“You remember all that?”

“I remember her grabbing my hand and us hiding. Mary-Margaret remembers some and my parents filled in the rest.”

“So after that?”

“They decided to adopt me.”

“That’s quite the story.” Killian gently places his mug beside hers and he inches closer. His hand hovers over hers for only a moment before he settles, giving her fingers a little squeeze. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Please don’t let this go to your head,” she says, and rotates her palm to squeeze his hand right back, “but you’re really easy to talk to.”

“Well, don’t let this go to your head, but I can see why Mary-Margaret did what she did.”

There’s a teeny part of her that doesn’t want to inquire further, but she blames her damn sister and her damn hope speeches for asking, “And why is that?”

“Because I think you’re the type of person it would be impossible to say goodbye to.”

Emma doesn’t know about that — a whole host of boyfriends might say otherwise — but she believes he believes it. Sitting across from him on the couch, his lack of electricity, and the two of them in their pajamas, Emma feels almost a glimmer of magic come back into the room.

Christmas Or, the holiday where Emma almost accidentally murders Killian

Killian wakes up to the sound of giggling and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The gas fireplace is already switched on, as are the Christmas lights, and he’ll have to ask Emma later how she managed to prevent Henry from crashing into the tree in his excitement to get at his presents.

“I’m going to set the table, so go ahead and gently wake Killian —” And that should prepare him, but he doesn’t hear the rest of Emma’s prompt as a hurling mass of eight year old runs into the living room and jumps on top of him. “Oof,” Killian groans. “Merry Christmas, Sir Henry.”

Henry leans his face down and grins. “Merry Christmas, Killian.”

“Henry, I said gentle!”

“Yeah, but you kinda winked when you said it.”

Killian manages to sit up just enough to watch Emma try and deny that she did in fact encourage the barbarism of her child. He raises an eyebrow in question and she responds in the first true “harumph” he’s ever heard in real life.

“Breakfast is ready,” she says.

Killian sits at the table and apparently the Swans take their Christmas breakfast seriously. Fresh fruit, and coffee and — shit, he forgot to mention something, didn't he? he thought she knew?— breakfast burritos smothered in avocado and tomatillo salsa.

“So, what’s the plan for the day” Killian asks, and then takes a sip of his coffee. Emma passes him the bowl of fruit, and — of fucking course — there’s bananas in it. He pours a little on his plate and hopes he can get away with just coffee for breakfast.

Henry explains that they always eat breakfast first because his mom thinks delayed gratification is good for him — “I stand by that,” Emma says — and then he and his mom exchange presents, and then they play boardgames, and then have Christmas Eve lunch leftovers, and then they go to a movie and have popcorn and milk duds for dinner.

“Milk duds play what part in delayed gratification?” Killian asks, pushing his plate, he hopes discretely, aside.

“I’m not a monster,” she says.

“Why aren’t you eating your burrito? Aren’t you hungry?” Henry asks.

“I’m not a big breakfast person.” At that precise moment, Killian’s stomach growls louder than it’s every growled before. Liar, it seems to proclaim. He sighs. “I’m actually allergic.”

“You are?” Emma asks. If her wide eyes are anything to go by, she is horrified.

“To burritos? That sucks,” Henry says.

“No, not to burritos, but the avocado on top.”

“No you’re not.”

He laughs, because of course Emma would argue with him about his food allergies. “I assure you I am.”

“But when we got lunch last week, you ordered that sandwich with avocado on it.”

He doesn’t think he should be as flattered as he is that Emma remembers that. “I took that one to go. For Liam.”

“But…but…” and then she drops her fork to her plate and covers her mouth with her palm. “Oh my god I could have killed you!”

“Emma…”

“I almost murdered you on Christmas.”

“I can assure you…”

“That I almost murdered you? Because, yeah, figured that one out.”

“It’s not nice to murder people, mom,” Henry helpfully comments then reaches for Killian’s plate. “Can I have this?”

“It’s all yours.”

“What else are you allergic to?” Emma asks.

“Nothing.” She doesn’t seem to believe him as she sits with her arms across her chest, challenging him. “Seriously. Just the avocados.” And then quietly adds, “And kiwis and bananas.”

“So the fruit is also poison,” she says. “Anything else?”

“Latex.” The instant he says the word he regrets it. It’s true, completely, but with the way Emma is looking at him it feels a little…inappropriate to say.

“Latex,” she repeats. She doesn’t break eye contact as she takes a sip of coffee and sets her mug aside. “Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?” Henry asks.

Emma maintains eye contact, but her cheeks go a little rosy. "Well, um, see the thing is…" she trails off.

Killian cuts in. “Because when I go to the doctor, sometimes the doctor or nurses wear gloves with latex in them.”

“That’s not interesting,” Henry says.

Emma makes him an omelette and then proceeds to apologize all morning. After they open presents (Killian will remember the look of delight on Henry’s face for all his days), she also makes a quick batch of chocolate chip muffins and insists he eat several. The rest of the day unfolds just how Henry said it would. Except Henry didn’t mention he’d only make it two-thirds of the way through the movie before falling asleep on his mom’s shoulder, curled up in the seat. As he snoozes he kicks his feet out into Killian’s lap and Emma rolls her eyes and helps herself to the rest of Henry’s popcorn.

“No personal space boundaries,” she whispers.

When they make it back to Emma’s, Henry wakes up just enough to shuffle to his room. And much like the night before, they find themselves on Emma’s couch talking over the day when she reveals she has a present for him.

“We said we weren’t buying presents, Emma.” He completely bought her a present but was planning to bend the rules by giving it to her on New Year’s Day. Surely New Year's Day presents are a thing somewhere. Right?

“It’s just a little something,” she says.

As Killian opens the gift he registers the novelty print first, and he is almost certain he knows what she got him. It’s three pairs of underwear in rather absurd prints and patterns. The same exact brand and style she tried to steal from him on Thanksgiving.

She grins as he laughs tossing the paper aside. “Did you know you can get them personalized?”

“Excuse me?” he asks.

She takes one of the pairs out of his hands and shows him the inner waistband. There it declares in embroidered thread "Property of Killian Jones."

“Just in case someone else tries to steal your underwear.”

“Nonsense, Swan. That’s our thing.”

The silence stretches between them as Emma rests her head on the back of the couch, her face turned towards him. Over the course of the night they’ve moved close enough to one another that their knees are touching. How did that happen?

“Killian, I want to tell you something.”

He swallows. “You can tell me anything you want, Emma.”

“I —” she begins, and then cuts herself off. “I —” she begins again before stopping, letting out a frustrated groan. She offers him a tentative smile. “I want to thank you for doing everything you did for us today. It meant a lot to Henry.” She pauses, and it looks like she's going to say more, but she simply adds, “And to me.”

“Of course, love.”

“And I’m sorry for almost killing you.”

“I fully intend to use your guilt to my advantage in our relationship for years to come.”

She smiles. “The electrician is coming tomorrow?”

“He said he’d arrive somewhere between 7am and 3pm.”

“Nice he could narrow it down for you.” She looks away and fiddles with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Do you want to stay here again tonight?”

“Aye,” he says. “If you'll have me.”

"I'll have you," she whispers, her lips tinged with a smile.

And he knows he shouldn’t be disappointed. Staying the night on her couch is wonderful and generous and it means another day of getting to wake up with the Swans. But there was a little part of him that thought she was going to say — he’s not entirely sure what. Strangely enough it’s the feeling of disappointment that confirms for him a long held suspicion of his. That with Emma the more she gives him, the more he wants. Every smile she gives makes him want 1,000 more. Every story she shares makes him want to share 1,000 of his own. He’d do anything for her to know he understands her. And he’d never intentionally hurt her. And that this Christmas was one of the best of his life, and is there any way she’d be willing to give him her New Year’s Eve, and Valentine’s Day, and perhaps Flag Day, too?

Boxing Day Or, the holiday where Emma breaks herself

For as relatively calm and almost perfect as Christmas was, the day after is completely different.

Henry comes running into Emma's room at 8:00 AM insisting they don’t have enough batteries. When she calmly reminds him about the extra supply in the hall closet, he runs off without a thank you. A little later she’s pouring herself coffee and Henry runs into the kitchen, grabs the poptart package out of her hand and runs out again. “I’m putting together my legos!” he shouts.

“We are leaving in one hour, Henry.” Silence answers her from his bedroom. “That means shoes, scarf, coat and gloves.” More silence. “Henry!”

“Got it mom! One hour!” Door slam.

She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Killian barely stifles a laugh as he watches the sequence of events from the coach.

“How much for you to take him off my hands for the next two to three years?” she asks, trying to ignore how cute he looks waking up in her apartment, sleep rumpled with hair sticking up every which way.

“You want me to bring him back as a pre-teen?”

“Good point. What about one of those boarding schools in Switzerland rich step-mothers always want to send their kids to? You know those ones in movies with the Olsen twins?”

“You’re truly trying to cast yourself as the stepmother in this situation?”

“Shut up and come get your coffee.”

She can see why Killian and Henry get along so well. Much like her son, Killian can’t simply stand up and walk into the kitchen. No. He bounds off the couch — she has no doubt he was tempted to hurdle it simply to prove he could — and then swaggers towards her. Does he always lead with his pelvis? God, why is she thinking about his pelvis? Once he’s in front of her, his mess of hair appears even more riotous and her fingers actually twitch with the urge to smooth it down. Instead she hands him a cup of coffee and picks hers up again. If her hands are busy maybe she’ll keep them to herself. And why did she think having him sleepover again was a good idea? What was she thinking?

Well, to be honest, she knew what she was thinking originally. But then late last night he shared why it is that Christmas is usually a hard season for him — a reminder of losing his mom as a child and his fiancé just two years ago — and all she could think about was how lucky she was to have walked into their laundry room that night.

Killian is a big one for eye contact — she knew that the day they met in the laundry room and it’s been confirmed a million times since — and it has a very squirm inducing impact on her insides. His heavy lidded eyes make everything twist up, and flutter, and race in a way that is almost painful. But like a good kind of painful.

“What’s your plan for today?” she asks.

He shrugs. “Betray your kindness for a bit longer and wait for the electrician to arrive. Yours?”

“Henry is going ice skating with a few of his friends. I’m going to go for a run after I walk him to Avery’s, but no plans after that.” She clears her throat as her pesky thoughts urge her to ask him to spend the day together. Naked, a part of her brain unhelpfully suggests.

“You’re going to walk in this weather? And then run in this weather?”

“I snagged a parking spot right in front and Avery’s family only lives a few blocks away. There is no way I am sacrificing my parking spot.” She turns away from Killian to top up her coffee. “And running is good for me. Helps me make sense of my thoughts when they’re all muddled.”

“What is making your thoughts muddled?” he asks.

She freezes for a second, the question taking her by surprise, and then turns around slowly. And holy fuck why do his eyes have to be so focused on her and so damn blue?! It’s oppressive, his eye color. “I didn’t say —”

“You kind of implied.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

She bites her lip to stifle a laugh, shaking her head. “You know it’s moments like these that remind me you’re the baby brother.”

He laughs, nodding his head in concession. “True. But in this case my persistence is motivated by my own selfish curiosity."

“What makes you curious?”

“I’m curious about all sorts of things. But I have to admit that my thoughts have also been rather muddled these days.” ” He taps his lips, thinking, and that is not fair. “For instance, I’m curious about what you wanted to say to me last night. Before you stopped yourself from continuing.”

How did he —?

“I’m curious about why you’re taking such shallow breaths right now,” he continues, sidling closer to her.

“They’re not —”

“But really, Emma, I find myself wondering if you would be interested in knowing what has my thoughts muddled these days?” He moves even closer as he reaches behind her to set his mug on the counter-top.

She takes a shaky breath. “I might be.”

“Then ask me.”

Okay. So, last night she chickened out. Sitting on the couch with Killian — the fire going, and Henry asleep, and Killian sharing his life with her — Emma had every intention of doing herself, and Mary-Margaret, and every human being who finds men attractive proud by telling Killian that she thinks about kissing him. Thinks about it a lot. So, she's smart enough to see this moment for what it is: a second chance. Another opportunity to get it right. Because Killian wouldn’t be leading her like this simply to reveal his thoughts were muddled with — fuck, she doesn’t know — whether or not he should finally bump Russian Doll to the top of his Netflix queue.

(He should, by the way, but that isn’t the point. The point is, he’s trying to lead her somewhere and she has to decide if she’s going to follow.)

She sets her mug down and takes a deep breath. “Tell me?” She doesn't mean for it to come out like a question.

“Emma,” he says, leaning in and resting a hand on her hip. “It’s you.”

Now, here’s the thing. Nothing in Emma’s life has ever resembled the plot of a romantic comedy. Every time she let herself think — secretly and only in her head and only like three times — “maybe this is my big romance!” it crashes and burns and turns out the guy only looked at her with stars in his eyes because she kinda reminded him of his ex. Until she met Killian. Because no sooner does he whisper the words “it’s you” — and holy shit that is some Mr. Darcy level stuff — her son comes crashing into the room, dressed for ice skating and holding his jacket. Then he’s tugging on Killian’s sleeve and telling him he has to play Smash Brothers with him because he’s been practicing and he’s finally going to beat him but he’s only got fifteen minutes left to prove it.

Killian looks at her, a little helplessly as Henry drags him away. She smiles to reassure him it’s okay. They’ll get to talk soon. Right? At least that’s what she keeps telling herself as she gets into her running clothes and laces her sneakers.

“Henry,” she says, walking out of her room. “Time to go kiddo. I told Avery’s mom we’d be there in 10 minutes.” Henry must be losing to Killian. It’s the only explanation for why he so readily sets the controller aside.

“See ya later, Killian,” he says, and tackle side hugs Killian before sprinting for the door.

Emma grabs him by the hood of his jacket and pulls him back before he can bolt for the door. “Henry. Gloves.” She gestures to the coffee table where they’re waiting for him.

“Oh, right.”

As they walk out of the building, Emma is trying so hard to listen to Henry’s enthusiastic play by play of the game he just played with Killian but all she can think of is the fact that Killian is in her apartment. Waiting there for the electrician (and her?). Sitting there on her couch. Unless the electrician arrives while she’s on her run he’ll be there when she returns. What is she going to say? How do they even pickup that conversation?

It’s this state of distraction that she blames for missing the patch of ice on the sidewalk outside their apartment. She slips and lands hard not even certain of what happened.

“Mom!” Henry shouts, immediately at her side.

“I’m okay, sweetie,” she grits out, trying to catch her breath. “I just slipped.” Except for when Henry tries to help her up her knee buckles and pain shoots up her leg. Shit. She sits on the sidewalk and takes a deep breath, not wanting to scare Henry.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Can you do me a favor, bud?” She pulls out her phone, scrolling through the contacts. “Talk to Killian and ask him to come down, okay?” Maybe she should be the one to call but she kind of feels like crying and needs a second to gather herself. To focus on not bursting into tears from shock and pain.

After Henry hangs up — “Killian come quick! Mom fell!” — Emma steels herself and calls Avery’s mom to explains what happened. Thankfully she tells Emma they’ll just swing by and pick Henry up, no problem.

Killian comes running outside, not even wearing a jacket the idiot, as she hangs up with Avery’s mom. Emma has to stop him from picking her up and bringing her inside immediately.

Her whole body shivers; the sidewalk absolutely icy and freezing. “We need to wait with Henry,” she tells him.

Once Henry leaves, Emma reassuring everyone she’ll be just fine, Killian helps her up. He wraps her arm around his shoulder and she leans into him as he takes her weight and walks her inside. It’s amazing how being in pain can zap all sexual tension from an encounter because Emma isn’t thinking about Killian with his hand on her hip in the kitchen. Not at all. All she's thinking about is how nice he is, and how thankful she was that he was there to help and, okay, fine, maybe being in pain can only zap 80% of the sexual tension. Still. That’s a lot less sexual tension.

Once back in her apartment Killian settles her in the armchair and props her leg up on the ottoman. He buzzes around, bringing her water and ibuprofen, and then asks to see her ankle. She supposes this is kind of his area, so she nods and does her best to hold in a wince as he removes her shoe and sock. He moves her ankle gently from side to side and she braces herself for the pain but it actually isn’t that bad. Until he presses on a spot at the top of her foot and —

“Holy shit that hurts!,” she exclaims.

“Good news is it’s not broken.”

“Feels broken to me.”

“Probably just a really bad sprain but I can take you to get an x-ray if you want.”

“Or?”

“Or I collect some supplies from my apartment and I’ll wrap it myself.”

“That option is free?” she asks. Killian nods. “I choose that.”

“Keep this elevated.” Before he leaves for his apartment, he notices her struggle to get her other shoe off. He sighs affectionately, unlacing her shoe and setting it aside. Without asking he reaches for a blanket on the sofa, one he used the night before, and lays it over her lap. “Back in five minutes.”

The moment the door closes behind Killian tears spring to the corner of her eyes. Yes, Emma’s in pain, the ibuprofen not quite kicking in yet as she feels her ankle throb. And, yes, her butt is a little cold, but that doesn’t really explain why she starts to cry. These past couple of days have just been a lot. In a really great way, but it’s still a lot.

The tears must be something Killian notices when he gets back because in a flash he crouches in front of her, resting a hand on her uninjured ankle. “Hey now, what’s this?”

She shakes her head, not really sure how to explain. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

His raised eyebrow and tightly drawn mouth indicate he doesn’t believe her, but as she dabs her eyes with her sleeve, he takes to unpacking the supplies he brought over. The truth is that it’s not nothing; more like it's everything. It’s that his apartment is down the hall and when she demanded he come stay with her and Henry he could have refused, or used his spare key to stay at his brother’s, but he didn’t. And that while she has yet to hear an explanation concerning his “it’s you” statement, she has a feeling it’s something good. It’s everything to her — the ways both big and small he chooses her and Henry. And it’s only been five-weeks but she wants more. She want more weeks.

He wraps her ankle up then fits her to the pair of crutches he brought over. As he helps her stand, she stumbles and accidentally puts pressure on her ankle. She hisses at the sudden pain, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Careful, Emma,” he says, running a hand up and down her back in comfort. She looks up at him; his eyes are all soft and concerned. “You okay?”

It’s you, too, she wants to say. I don’t know how or why, or even what it means, but it’s you. She nods. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

New Year’s Eve Or, the holiday where Killian meets the ex

“So tell me about this party, Sir Henry.”

Killian’s noticed that when Henry has a lot to say, he has a habit of taking a deep breath and then clenching his fists at his side. It's like Henry’s little body is bracing itself for an onslaught of enthusiasm. “Well,” Henry says, fists clenched, “Aunt Mary-Margaret and Uncle David have this big farmhouse that is so cool and my friend Roland and his dad, and my other friend Violet and her dad, and my other friend Gideon and his mom, are all coming over too and we’re having a big party. And then after we eat so much food, we’re going to play sardines inside with all the lights off, and then after that we’re having a campfire out back, and then after that…”

Killian does his best to listen — really, he does — Henry’s enthusiasm is genuinely delightful so it isn’t hard to be interested. Usually. It’s just that as Henry is talking Emma walks out of her room dressed for the evening in a tight black dress and he kind of loses his head a bit. Actually finds himself staring at her, which he only realizes when she catches his gaze and smiles.

“Breathe, kid,” she says, breaking their stare. “Your aunt texted and said they’ll be here in five minutes. Got all your stuff?”

“Yup!”

“Go get your shoes on, then.” Henry runs off and Killian watches as Emma inspects Henry’s pile of belongings, confirming to her own satisfaction that Henry won’t be without a change of clothes or toothbrush.

“This party sounds fun, Swan. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spend time with your friends and boy there?”

“Nope. We’re going to Ruby and Mulan’s, and we’re dancing until at least 1:00 AM because that’s when they bring out the dancing snacks.”

“Dancing snacks?”

“Donuts and coffee for the drive home. It’s the best.” He’s about to point out that there exists these wonderful things called donut shops that allows one to purchase a donut and coffee at a time that is not 1:00 AM, but her phone rings.

Emma halts her process of shutting off lights in the kitchen to answer.

“Hey Rubes.” As Ruby talks, Emma refreshes her lipstick in the hallway mirror. She pauses the action, groaning in aggravation at something Ruby says. “Seriously?! Can’t you be total dicks and tell them to leave? Since when? Fine! Be good people! Yeah, we’ll be there in about thirty.”

Emma hangs up and Killian tries not to laugh at Emma’s quietly muttered, “Well, shit.” She told him a few weeks ago her resolve to never swear in front of Henry gets a little weaker with each passing year.

“What was that, love?”

“Apparently the sister of one of Ruby’s co-workers invited herself to the party — much to everyone’s annoyance because Zelena is apparently awful — and then proceeded to be even more awful by bringing along her new boyfriend who, pause for dramatic effect, happens to be my ex.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she says, finishing her lipstick and dropping the tube into her purse. “And Walsh being Walsh, he’s too much of a —” Emma trails off, her eyes darting down the hallway to see if Henry is coming — “fucking narcissistic dickhole to leave once he realized whose house he was at. I know he’s only staying to drink booze and leer at me when I show up alone. Sure, he’s the one who got drunk one night and cheated on me, but I’m the one who is going to have to deal with him.”

“But you’re not showing up alone.”

“Yeah, but you’re my friend date. Not my date date.”

Killian’s heart clenches a little at that entirely accurate explanation.

Hard to believe it was only five days prior that he and Emma were seemingly on the emotional precipice of — well, something. He’s not entirely sure what, because first Henry interrupted their conversation, then Emma sprained her ankle, and then, as he was in the midst of applying his physical therapy degree in perhaps the most important context of his entire life, the electrician called to say he arrived. The man spent several hours trying to undo what Killian did, and then Emma called and asked him to pick up Thai takeout for a late lunch, and before he knew it, Henry was back from ice skating, and Emma was asleep on the couch with a bowl of Phad Thai balanced on her chest.

So, her assessment is correct. Right now they are friends and this is not a date date. Though he wishes it was, and he is certain all it would take is an uninterrupted moment for him and Emma to find that bit of magic again. He’s also convinced that Emma in her dress — black, and short, and lacy, with long sleeves and a neckline that is both wonderful and tempting — is a bit of magic in and of itself.

David texts Emma that they’ve arrived, and Emma and Henry both get bundled up to meet them outside. Killian grabs Henry’s piles of belongings and they’re out the door.

Emma has this whole theory that with surge pricing likely in effect all night, it would be wildly irresponsible to take an Uber to and from Ruby and Mulan’s house. Killian vetoes her theory with his medical opinion that as her PT, it would be wildly irresponsible to allow someone who sprained their ankle a week ago to walk a mile in high heeled boots. She scowls but he requests the Uber anyway. Fuck, he must be far gone because even her scowl is starting to feel like a kind of magic.

As the night goes on, Killian discovers that the problem isn’t if he should confess his feelings but rather what feeling he should confess to first. He watches Emma run in and hug Ruby and Mulan and thinks “I should confess how her smile makes everything better.” When he discovers one of his co-workers is also at the party, apparently a regular at the diner Ruby owns, Emma is kind, and warm, and eager to get to know the man, and Killian thinks “I should confess that my days don’t quite feel real until I am able to talk them over with her.” And then there’s the confession he’s been concealing for well over a month: that he wants to kiss Emma, and he wants to kiss her a lot.

Turns out Emma has a confession of her own to make. Well, not so much a confession as a bald-faced lie.

Killian and Emma are in the middle of a rather heated debate with a couple they’ve just met about the best claymation Christmas movie when a supercilious voice interrupts their conversation, seemingly not caring about a lack of courtesy.

“Isn’t this a festive coincidence? Us being at the same party?” Emma clenches her jaw at the voice and plasters on the brightest smile he thinks he’s ever seen. It screams false, false, false. She turns around to greet the man.

“Walsh,” she says, and then extends her hand to the woman who must be Zelana. “I’m Emma.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” she responds, ignoring the hand. Zelena looks at Walsh, the two of them laughing at some shared joke.

“Seriously, Ems, what are the odds?” he asks.

“Well, seeing as Ruby and Mulan are my friends, the chances of me being here were pretty high. I don’t even know how to calculate the odds of you showing up. Nor do I really care to,” she shrugs.

Killian chuckles at that, bumping Emma with his hip in what he hopes is a dual gesture of both affection and camaraderie. I’m here for you, he wants the gesture to mean. It also has the effect of catching the attention of both Walsh and Zelena.

“Emma,” Walsh says condescendingly. “You didn’t introduce us to your friend.” The emphasis on the word friend is mocking. Like, “look at me with my girlfriend, and here you are with just your regular old friend.” Killian hates this guy.

But, because he likes to think himself a gentleman, he extends a hand in greeting. “Killian Jones,” he says. “Emma’s —”

“Fiancé,” she cuts in almost immediately. Emma wraps her hands around his arm, snuggling into his side. “This is my fiancé.”

“Oh,” says Walsh, glaring. Killian doubts he’s jealous as much as he’s mad Emma’s potentially happy.

“But where is your riiiing?” Zelena simpers. Killian didn’t know the word ‘ring’ had quite that many syllables. “Could you not afford one?” He's decided he hates her, too.

“Oh,” Emma says, voice quiet. “Well —”

Fine. If they’re going to do this… “It’s at the jewelers. Being resized. It was my mum’s ring, and a little large for Emma I’m afraid.”

“Right,” Walsh frowns. “How did the two of you meet?”

“Neighbors,” Emma practically shouts. “We are neighbors. And that’s how we met.”

“Rather ordinary,” Zelena says, sounding bored.

“Well, the sex is great, so…” Emma trails off and Killian almost chokes. Her expression makes him want to laugh — she apparently took herself by surprise with that one. It’s like she can hear herself saying the words and would like to be able to stop saying them, but can’t.

He would never want Emma to think she caused him any distress. They’ll surely talk about the whole fiancé thing, but he’s been hoping all night for a magic opportunity to appear and maybe, he thinks, it’s time to make some magic of his own.

“Truth is,” he says, “I knew Emma was the one for me months before we actually met.” He looks down at her. “I know you’re sick of this story, love, but mind if I tell it once more?” She shakes her head, eyes wide and questioning, and he turns back to Zelena and Walsh. Walsh, who it must be said, looks like he’s sucked on something sour. Killian wasn't sure he'd ever confess this to Emma, but here they are.

“My first glimpse of Emma was in our apartment lobby. Henry must have been at a sleepover of some sort, because Emma was coming home at the early hours of the morning with her sister and friend, stumbling into the lobby clearly drunk and laughing. Then Emma shouted 'we should race!' and someone else said the loser had to make breakfast and no sooner did the words ‘ready’ come out of her sister’s mouth, than Emma took off her shoes and sprinted for the stairs.” He looks down at Emma and notices a rather stunned expression on her face. He hopes it's a good kind of stunned. Might as well keep going. “I think someone called her a cheater and Emma called them sore losers and she was up the staircase, and certainly to her apartment before the two of them even managed to stumble to the elevator. And I remember thinking to myself ‘this woman is amazing.’ We met officially in the laundry room a couple months later and she’s confirmed that thought every day hence.”

He feels that sizzle in the air, of hope and possibility and one of Emma’s hands leaves his arm to slide around his back, squeezing his waist gently. She turns into him further, away from Walsh and Zelena. When he looks down, she leans up and kisses him, soft and delicate on the corner of his mouth.

Walsh coughs, and Zelena says something he immediately opts to ignore. Magic.

“Killian,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Emma, you have to come take shots with us!” And man, Killian likes Ruby a lot but her timing is on par with Henry’s. Ruby is wearing heels that must be at least four inches high and as she approaches their little circle, wedging herself in close to Walsh, she stumbles. It feels like it starts to happen in slow motion but then all of sudden it's over: the bright red cocktail in Ruby's hand sloshes over the edge of the glass and douses Walsh in what Killian hopes is something both sticky and impossible to get out.

“Fuck,” he shouts, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “This is Tom Ford.”

Ruby holds her hands up and shrugs. “Oops.” She crouches down to be at eye level with the stain. “Sorry, Mr. Ford,” she says, slurring the words.

Walsh storms off and Zelena follows. They furiously grab their coats from the hook and leave, silencing the crowd with their ire. As soon as the door slams the strained silence in the room breaks, and Ruby turns to him and Emma with a big smile. “Happy New Year, guys!” Miraculously sober once more.

“Ruby,” Emma scolds, not sounding the least bit upset. “You are ridiculous!”

“Excuse you, I tripped.”

“Why didn't you 'trip' two hours ago when Walsh first showed up?”

“I could have,” Ruby says, "but it was so satisfying to watch it happen, wasn’t it?”

Emma looks like she wants to maintain her indignation, but then Killian bursts into laughter, and Ruby grins with unfiltered pride at her accomplishment.

Just as Killian is plotting as to how he and Emma can escape next — (she only kissed him about two minutes ago but it feels like it’s been a lifetime; why is it the second he manages to make a little magic the universe appears dead set upon stealing the moment from him and Emma?) — Ruby tells them “Ems, I wasn’t joking about shots. I need you.”

She looks over to Killian, her brow furrowed. “Actually, Ruby, I need to —”

“Go on, Swan,” he reassures, “I’ll be here.”

Ruby pulls Emma away, no further conversation, Mulan whooping loudly as they get closer. Was that a mistake? Or should he have followed them? What is he even doing? He has no strategy when it comes to Emma. He has no plan; only an intended end goal. Which is her in his life for as long as possible. Ideally with more kissing. Why has he been wasting all this time? He should have asked her out the second she and Henry brought him toffee almond bark.

He pours himself a glass of whiskey from the liquor cart in the living room and then escapes to the back porch, sipping on the drink, cheersing the smokers out there as they all make small talk. Ruby slides the door open a few minutes later. “Come inside future emphysemiacs of the world, the countdown is starting in one minute.”

At Ruby’s commanding tone, everyone tamps out their cigarettes or ceases vaping and moves inside. But Killian stays where he is. He’s too much of a romantic for a New Year’s Eve countdown. The strike of midnight without a kiss from Emma just might break his heart.

The door to the patio opens again, noise swelling as he hears a few people start the countdown with a loud “60! 59! 58!”

“Ruby, I’ll be right in.”

The door closes. “Not Ruby.”

At the sound of Emma’s voice, every nerve ending in his body starts firing. Heart beating wildly. Palms sweating. And he’s either halfway to being in love with this woman or he’s about to throw up.

He looks at her, and her smile is open and warm. He can’t help but smile back. “Emma.”

“Some party, huh?” she asks, standing beside him, forearms resting on the banister. Neither one of them are wearing jackets, and her sleeves might be long but they’re all lace. There’s no way they’ll last out here long.

“Yeah.”

She looks at him. “I feel like I should apologize for the whole fiancé thing. But —” she trails off.

“But?” he asks.

“I’m actually a little more interested in that story you told Walsh.”

His heart isn’t possibly beating loud enough for her to hear. Right? That noise is all in his head?

“What about it?”

“Was it true?”

Somewhere distantly he hears the group inside continue their countdown, now hitting “34! 33! 32!” and getting louder with each number.

“Yeah. The first time I saw you was in the lobby of the building.”

She immediately shakes her head, appearing almost angry at him. “No. Not that part. I remember that night with Mary-Margaret and Elsa. The other part. The part about me. About knowing —” A shiver runs through her. He can see the goosebumps on her skin, and yet she persists. “About me, and knowing that —”

“Of course it’s true, Emma. I wouldn’t make that up.”

Then Emma does the last thing he expects and punches him in the shoulder. Not hard enough to injure him but it’s surprising enough that it hurts. “Ouch!” he says, rubbing the spot she hit. “What was that?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Are you saying I should have?”

“Well, obviously.” She clenches her fists, and huffs out an aggravated breath. “I don’t make eyes, Killian. Okay?” She doesn’t punch him, but she does sort of push his shoulder. “I am not a make eyes person.” And she pushes him again. “Got it?”

“God, woman, would you stop shoving me?”

“No, because you are an idiot.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. And are you listening to me? I DON’T MAKE EYES.”

“Okay, fine!” They’re almost shouting now, but he can still make out the “10! 9! 8!” from inside the apartment. “You don’t make eyes! I read you!”

“I don’t make eyes,” she says, for the fourth time, a little quieter but no less emphatic. “Except I do make eyes at you. Pretty much from the first moment I met you.”

What? Her words take a moment to register, and then all he manages to say is, “Oh.”

Emma is having a harder time keeping in her shivers now. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest and there’s something about seeing that which springs him into action. He steps closer and runs his hands over her arms, hoping to bring some warmth to her skin.

The group inside bursts into a jubilant shout of “Happy New Year!” and he has apparently been making eyes at him. This whole time.

“Oh,” he says again.

“Yeah.”

New Year’s Day Or, the holiday where Emma and Killian make magic

Emma is tempted to go inside for two reasons: one, to get out of the cold because sheesh, and two to text Mary-Margaret to inform her “I did the brave thing and all he did was say ‘oh.’ Twice!”

But something about the way Killian said ‘oh’ the second time and the way he looks at her now has her rooted in place. He’s running his hands up and down her arms to help warm her up. It feels better than anything has the right to.

“Happy new year, Emma,” he says. She hears the slight shake in his voice. Is he nervous, too? She kind of hopes so.

“Killian,” she says, and takes a small step closer. And, shit, she really hopes she’s not misreading his signals here. “Kiss me.”

For a fraction of a second Killian’s hands still entirely and then his brain seems to take over. One hand snakes around to her waist and he grabs her, bringing their bodies flush, and the other goes up to the nape of her neck. Killian’s thumb and forefinger are doing this massage thing which is utterly divine, and — Oh, she thinks, we’re kissing now.

It isn’t something she’s actively thought about — the logistics of kissing Killian — but that seems to be okay because her body is charged and humming in a way she’s never experienced before. She is suddenly struck by the sensation that she does not have enough hands. She tangles a hand in his hair, grabbing a fistful and earning her a grunt from Killian, which makes her want to do it again. But if her hand is in his hair then she can’t run it up and down the planes of his back and that’s a shame. So, she does that. But, she finds, if both hands are feeling the corded muscles of his back, then she can’t feel the firmness of his arms, which is a crime against the world. And if she’s gripping his biceps, then she can’t get a handful of what she has always suspected, and has now been able to confirm, is a phenomenal ass. It’s a problem scientists should dedicate the rest of their lifetimes to solving — too much Killian and not enough hands.

Killian runs his tongue along the seam of her lips and the sensation is so overwhelming she has to take a second, pulling away with a gasp. Only now they're too far away from on another so she wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his. She keeps her eyes closed, wanting to savor the everything of the moment for another second.

“Emma,” he says.

She smiles, and opens her eyes only long enough to kiss him again, sweetly on the lips before nuzzling into his the space between his neck and shoulder. Either she's aggravated her ankle or something about Killian is affecting her because she's having trouble standing.

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her once more, and yes! This is significantly warmer than the rubbing of arms things. They should have been doing this the whole time. The kissing is so much warmer.

“Emma,” he repeats.

“Hmm?” she doesn’t feel like she can actually say full words. Maybe it’s the not saying of full words that’s allowing her to feel this warm (also, made her something called a snowball shot and it was minty and wonderful and that might also be contributing to the warm feeling).

“How committed are you to this hanging around for donuts and coffee thing?”

“Why? You have a better offer?”

“I could make you hot chocolate,” he says.

“And?”

“That’s not enough?”

She smiles, opens her eyes and shakes her head at him. “Coffee and donuts. That is a beverage and a snack. You offered only a beverage.”

“Counteroffer: I steal a box of donuts from Ruby and Mulan’s kitchen and we bring them back to your place.”

“Now you’re talking.” Their plan is to get bundled up in their outerwear, say their goodbyes and then grab the donuts, but it all goes to hell when Ruby asks Emma why she’s being weird and in response she shouts “I kissed Killian and I’m stealing your donuts!” She grabs a box and runs. As they try to make their getaway Ruby’s shouts at them from the front door. “I’m sending you a request on Venmo! Donuts are for non-horny guests who stay for dancing!”

Safely tucked into their Uber (she asked about the true horror of surge pricing and Killian refused to answer), Emma finds herself fixated on the red glint of Killian’s stubble under the passing glow of streetlights. He swallows a few times as she runs her finger along the line of his jaw.

“Killian? Has your heater been working okay?”

He nods. “Right as rain.”

“Oh,” she says, disappointed. “Well, if it ever stopped working, you could stay at my place again.”

The corners of his mouth twitch as he holds in a smile, and she really wants to bite his neck but she also doesn’t want to negatively impact Killian’s Uber rating. “Is that so?”

“Just being neighborly.”

“Obviously.”

The rest of the ride to their apartment complex is wonderful, with the touching, and the smiling, and the knowing that she has a box of contraband donuts, but she wants more.

As soon as they get out of the car, Killian takes Emma’s hand but she stays where she is and pulls him back to her.

“I changed my mind,” she says. He looks uncertain, and she rushes to explain. “You should stay at my apartment even if your heat is working.”

“Well that sounds grand,” Killian says, his voice low.

“Well good,” she says, and that’s when inspiration strikes. Once in the lobby, she unzips her ankle boots and holds them out for Killian to take. “Trade you boots for donuts?”

“Deal,” he says.

“So.”

“Who would have thought, huh?”

“What?” he asks.

“I mean, who would have though that me calling you a sick fuck on Thanksgiving would lead to us fucking on New Year’s Day? Crazy, right?” She asks the rather audacious question in as casual a tone as possible. Killian looks a little dazed and Emma leans up to kiss him again, smiling as their lips meet.

“I —” he sputters.

“Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Loser makes breakfast in the morning,” she says, and then she’s running through the lobby, clutching the donuts to her chest.

Killian’s laughter chasing her up the stairs is magic.

#cssecretsanta2k19 #captain swan #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #emma x killian #p: emma x killian #c: emma swan #c: killian jones #hollyethecurious #never stories

69 notes · View notes