#here's some fluff to tide you guys over until the next chapter of the main fic!

[extralively]

School Stories: In the Closet

Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character Pre-Relationship, Bickering, Teenage Shenanigans, Baby Panda Plays Matchmaker 1,806 words Also posted on AO3 Summary: Yura was just trying to get her chores done at the end of the school day, too bad that a young Panda suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands regarding a certain matter involving her and Gojo...

Hey everyone! I bring you another work in the Satoru/Yura series, and this time I actually plan to make School Stories a series of its own with quick oneshots set during their school days! There'll probably be no plot-related stuff here, mostly just slice of life and early SatoYura shenanigans, because that's fun to revisit every now and then, hehe.

If you just got here and haven't read any of the previous installments of this series, and all you want is some Gojo/OC slice of life shenanigans, then you should be able to read this as standalone! All you need to know is that Yura and Gojo are in the same year, and he was a massive asshole to her at beginning lol. They've since come to a sort of understanding and become friends, but they still bicker a lot.

“Who put the mop behind everything?” Gojo asked, and Yura only crossed her arms with an impatient sigh.

“Hurry up,” she called, watching the white-haired teenager rummage through the supply closet. It was the end of the school day, and they were supposed to clean up their classroom—Yura and Gojo were on mopping the floor and wiping surfaces duties, while Shoko and Geto were left to take out the trash and tidy everything up. However, Yura couldn’t even get started on her own chores until they were able to fetch all the supplies from this closet, which Gojo was taking forever to do.

“I’m trying,” he called, immediately tossing an empty bucket out of the supply storage, and Yura scowled at him making a mess. “But someone decided to bury all the supplies behind a bunch of junk.”

Yura tapped her foot in irritation, unable to help and hurry things up as the closet was way too cramped for two people.

As Yura was about to shoot another retort, a flash of black and white passed by her peripheral vision, and she turned her head to look. It was Panda, peering at them from behind the corner.

“Panda,” Yura greeted him. “Didn’t know you were stopping by today.”

The small, not-quite-a-panda creature would occasionally visit the school with Yaga, and Yura had long since become acquainted with him. She still wasn’t sure of all the details regarding Panda’s existence—something of a mutated cursed corpse created by Yaga that could function on his own, and that had apparently gotten Yaga into a lot of trouble back in the day—but Yura ended up deciding not to worry too much about it and simply view the small panda as Yaga’s sort-of son. He was pretty cute, as Shoko would repeatedly say as she’d try to squish the small-sized not-a-panda in a hug, and surprisingly smart for what was technically a five year old child.

So it was a little weird when Panda didn’t answer her, only stared. He could talk—and sometimes he would talk a lot—but for some reason he only stared at them with his eyebrows-area furrowed in concentration.

“Panda?” Yura called again, as Gojo still fumbled with all the stuff inside the supply closet.

Without a word, Panda suddenly marched up to them, halting his steps right next to her. And he stared.

“Wakatsuki,” Gojo suddenly called from inside the closet. “Don’t just stand there.”

“We can’t both fit in there,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from the small, furry creature to shoot another scowl in Gojo’s direction. “...Mr. Special Grade that can’t even get a mop out of the closet.”

She heard Gojo huff, disgruntled. She bit back a grin.

“Here,” he suddenly called out, briefly pulling back to hand her a mop. “Here’s that damn mop, now I just need to get the other stuff.”

Yura stepped closer to grab the offered item, and that was when the closet door suddenly swung closed, pushing her into the small, cramped space.

A garbled cry of surprise escaped her mouth as she stumbled forward, her hands scrambling to grasp at anything in front of her. Anything turned out to be a warm, not-that-soft body, her own body immediately colliding against Gojo’s as she fell into him.

“Wakatsuki, what the hell—” he let out, and she felt an arm wrap around her waist to keep her from falling further and, especially, face-first into the closet’s wall. However, something was pulled from the higher shelves with the movement, a pile of (thankfully) not too heavy stuff immediately falling onto them and pushing them closer together.

And in the middle of it all, there was the distinct click of the lock behind them, and what she could only describe as giggling fading away into the distance.

“Panda!” she called, the only possible culprit for quite literally pushing them into this situation. But it was too late, and there was only silence outside. “Shit...”

Yura’s hands tried to find purchase somewhere, anywhere, but the only solid surface she could find was Gojo himself.

And he was too close.

Yura let out a series of expletives as her feet couldn’t find solid ground, too much junk scattered around their legs for her to actually find somewhere to step. “Stop—Stop that,” Gojo said as she kept struggling.

“You stop—” Her fingers tightened on Gojo’s uniform as her efforts only made her slip further, her weight dropping against him. His arm around her was the only thing keeping her from fully falling on top of the scattered junk.

He grunted. “Quit moving—” he said, and she felt his arm suddenly tighten around her. That did make her more secure in place... but that also brought her even closer.

Closer—way too close.

Yura froze.

For a long moment, all she could hear was her breathing in the small, dark space. Well, her breathing, and his. And not just hear, but feel—her chest was pressed against Gojo’s, so she could feel every time it heaved up and down along with hers. And it was like her mind slowly took stock of every single spot their bodies touched—which was almost everywhere. One of his legs was pushed up between hers, hitching higher every time she scrambled for purchase, his arm firm around her waist and keeping her there.

“...Uh...” Gojo let out. His breath puffed over her face.

Was it getting hotter in here, or...?

“...Door,” she suddenly called. It was dark, but she thought she could see his brows furrowing. “Get the door,” she explained.

Gojo was quiet for a moment, and then he suddenly moved. Yura briefly realized his weight had been leaning against the wall as his upper body surged forward, taking her with him—but she supposed this was nothing for him with his ridiculous strength. She was able to find a little bit of purchase on the ground as he straightened them both up, but not enough, and as his arm unwrapped itself from around her to reach for the door, she was forced to hold on to him tighter.

“...It’s locked,” he said, the sound of a jiggling doorknob filling the closet.

She grunted. “Fucking—"

Gojo let out a huff. “Did Panda really lock us in here?”

Yura also let out a huff. “Yep.”

“I’m gonna tell Yaga that his little experiment is turning into quite the little shit,” he grumbled.

And Yura couldn’t help herself. “...Well, you’re one to talk,” she half mumbled.

Gojo huffed again, turning to look down at her face... and then immediately looking away as they were still too close.

Yura let out a breath as she too looked off to the side. “Now what?” she asked. She was pretty sure she had left her phone back in the classroom with her things, but maybe Gojo still had his so they could call someone to get them out of there. If not... “Do we scream for help or something?”

“I mean, I can teleport.”

Ah. Right.

But then she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare teleport away and leave me here all alone.”

She heard him bark out a laugh. “Scared of the dark, Wakatsuki?”

Yura turned her head to him with a scowl, about to retort—and then her nose bumped his chin and she quickly turned away again. “Just get us out of here.”

-

Yura almost felt relieved at the feeling of Gojo’s teleporting encasing them, the cramped-up space giving way to some actual room to move around. Darkness turned into light, and Yura’s feet finally found their footing, but then she looked to the side and immediately locked eyes with Shoko’s questioning gaze.

...Hold on.

Yura was frozen for a moment, her brain still trying to make sense of the sudden change of scenery. Gojo had teleported them both out of the closet—straight into the classroom they had been using. The one where Shoko and Geto were.

“...Satoru,” she heard Geto’s voice suddenly drawl out, and her eyes shifted to look at him. His lips were tilted up in a sly smile aimed straight at her and Gojo. “You guys been having fun?”

Yura blinked. And her brain suddenly processed the fact that they hadn’t actually moved after teleporting so Gojo still had his arms around her... with their bodies still pressed together.

Something snapped inside of her.

“G-Get off!” she suddenly exclaimed, pushing Gojo away as hard as she could. It seemed to have sent him stumbling backwards, but Yura was too busy to congratulate herself for catching him off guard when her cheeks felt like they were bursting into flames.

“Ow, Wakatsuki, what the hell...” Gojo grumbled.

Yura eventually raised her gaze, meeting Shoko’s eyes again. Unfortunately, Yura did not like the look she found on the other girl’s face.

“You two were supposed to be fetching the supplies,” Shoko said, amusement hiding behind her impassive tone. “Not cozying up together.”

Yura’s cheeks were still burning, and she refused to look in Gojo’s direction. “That’s not—!”

“No!” a different voice suddenly yelled from the doorway. It was the culprit himself—Panda—standing there in shock.“You weren’t supposed to be out so soon!” He paused. “Go back!”

Gojo snapped his head towards the doorway, his eyes shooting glares at the mutated cursed corpse even from behind his glasses. “You pulling pranks now, you little furball?” he gritted out. He took one step towards the young not-panda, who seemed to have sensed what was to come and immediately bolted. “I’ll get ya and teach you a lesson, come back here!”

As Gojo ran off chasing after Panda, the other three students were left alone in the classroom, and Yura tried to get her flushed cheeks back in control. And in the meantime, she refused to make eye contact with neither Shoko nor Geto... who had turned his gaze to her, amused.

“So...” Shoko eventually started. “What just happened?”

Honestly, Yura had no idea.

-

Bonus:

“You locked them in a closet?” Yaga asked, his face incredulous as he stared at his small creation.

Panda only nodded, eyes big and wide and with seemingly no regrets.

Yaga let out a sigh. “...Why?”

Panda didn’t miss a beat. “They need to kiss.”

Yaga raised an eyebrow high up. “They need to what?” he asked.

“Kiss,” Panda replied. “They gotta kiss.”

Now, where the hell had Panda gotten this idea from, Yaga had no idea.

He sighed, rubbing his face with a hand.

“Masamichi,” Panda called, and Yaga peered down through his fingers. There was more? “You need to try it sometime.”

“Try it? Try what?”

Panda nodded. “Locking them in a closet,” he stated. His small face became thoughtful. “Just have to make sure Satoru can’t teleport...”

End notes: My personal headcanon is that Panda is an unusually perceptive person, and hey, it's actual canon that he likes to play matchmaker!! So let's say he started early, echoing the thoughts of a lot of commenters in this series saying they wish they could lock Yura and Satoru in a closet to sort things out lmao. Too bad Satoru can teleport...

(Basically I wrote a mention of Panda locking them in a closet in one of the main story's chapters and I felt like I had to actually write out the incident lol)

Anyway, thank you for reading, and let me go back to writing the main story now ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ

[thearmyprof]

Endless Sea, but the water is warm here Ch. 9

Rating: E

Pairing: Yoongi/Original Character

Word count: 6493

Chapters: 9/?

Genre: Modern Fantasy!AU, Idol!AU, Canon Divergent,

Warnings: NSFW, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

Overview post: https://at.tumblr.com/thearmyprof/endless-sea-but-the-water-is-warm-here/h8ruhjcuzs62

Summary:

Sometimes Eunha imagines herself living by the sea. She imagines herself sinking in sunbaked sand and Mina happily jumping in playful waves. She thinks there might have been a time in her own childhood when she visited the ocean. A time before her first visit to the realm of death. A time when she let the pull of the sun-warmed waters pull suggestively at her ankles. When she collected seashells. A time when she could take a big inhale and smell the salt water mixed with the smell of tide, the smell of life.

But daydreams and memories of oceans and sand always morph and twist eventually. The grey waters that ebb and flow with their own mystical tide, the river as vast as an ocean, are what Eunha knows. That river has no smell. She is well versed in the tugs and pulls of the water, urging her to continue her journey onward, out into that vast expanse of monotone darkness. There are some days where it almost feels easier to give in and let the river’s tide do what it wills.

Life is hard and dark until an accidental meeting on a train and an encounter her vampire landlord's ghoul throws Eunha's world colliding with Min Yoongi's. Does this become a fleeting career opportunity or the chance at a better life?

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45497923

Full Tags:

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Vampires, Fae & Fairies, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, World of Darkness, Necromancy, Blood and Violence, Death, None of the guys though, or our two original main characters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Magic, fae bts, Soft Min Yoongi | Suga, Protective Min Yoongi | Suga, Protective Bangtan Boys | BTS, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex Work, Single parent original female character, Softness, Soulmate!AU kind of, Mafia AU, referenced past traumatic birth (not explicit), soft adopted dad Yoongi vibes, Hospitals, referenced police, no jealousy, good communication, we believe in healthy relationships in this house even if the world is burning down

CHAPTER NINE.

Much to Yoongi’s surprise, once the cake is distributed among the children, the whole party quiets down. Each child murmuring happily while stuffing the sugar and frosting into their mouths. Mina sits nearby at a small child size table with other young party goers quietly eating her slice of cake. Yoongi watches fondly as she carefully keeps herself in her own bubble while still being near the other kids.

Where the hell did Kim Seokjin go? Yoongi gives the room a cursory glance, but his comrade is nowhere to be seen. Yoongi scoffs under his breath at the audacity of tricking him into babysitting at a kids’ birthday party and then leaving him alone at said birthday party.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and decides to make the most of his time at the party. He walks over to Mina’s table and sits down next to her.

“Hey there, kid, how’s the cake?” Yoongi asks with a small smile.

Mina glances at him before returning to finishing up the last bites of her cake. Yoongi chuckles to himself.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before Yoongi spots Seokjin coming in from another part of the apartment. He’s smiling and chatting with an older woman that Yoongi thinks might be Jin’s aunt. Yoongi contents himself with sending daggers to his hyung with his eyes.

“Yoongi-chi!” Seokjin says amiably, walking over to the short table Yoongi and Mina are sitting at. “Having a good time?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “You left me alone with a bunch of hyperactive children and, worse, their gossiping mothers, what do you think?”

Jin chuckles under his breath and attempts to plaster an apologetic look on his face. He says, “Just catching up with some family members. Sorry for leaving you alone for a bit. Besides you have Mina-yah!”

Yoongi grumbles but decides not to dwell on it. Both men silently watch Mina as she finishes up her cake and pulls her book out of her pocket.

“You brought a book to a party?” Jin asks in exaggerated incredulity.

Yoongi chuckles. Mina ignores them both.

They sit quietly for a while, watching Mina read and the other children start to wake up from their cake-induced reveries. The children begin to run around the apartment, loud and hyper. Seokjin smiles fondly at them, while Yoongi merely shakes his head in amusement.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes through the room, followed by the sound of clinking glass shards and a panicked cry from one of the mothers. Yoongi quickly turns to see what has happened and notices that one of the children had spilled a drink onto the floor causing it to shatter. He looks around to Mina, but she seems unbothered by this incident as she continues reading her book. Yoongi smiles at her concentration before looking to see if his help is needed in cleaning it up. It seems Jin and his aunt have things under control.

Once they finish cleaning up, the party begins to wind down and everyone says their goodbyes. Yoongi stands up and stretches his legs. The kids are getting ready to leave with their parents, and Mina is packing up her book. Seokjin is chatting with the other mothers, thanking them for coming and saying goodbye to the kids.

Yoongi walks over to Mina and crouches down next to her. “Hey, I hope you had a good time,” he says, smiling at her.

She looks up from her book and nods once.

“Let’s go?” he asks and holds out his hand palm up in offering.

She tucks her book into the large pocket of her dress and reaches out to tuck her tiny hand in his.

Jin decides to go with them back to the apartment, rather than stay with the remaining gossiping mothers by himself. The three of them reach Yoongi’s car and he unlocks it with a beep. Mina waits for help getting into her seat in the back, her feet not even close to reaching the floor. Yoongi chuckles to himself at how small she looks in his big SUV.

As they drive, Mina is quiet, as usual, retreating back into her book. Jin is boisterously filling the silence, throwing jokes towards the back seat in hopes of getting a giggle—or any noise at all, really—out of Mina. He tells Yoongi he’s positive that one of these days a joke will land. Yoongi pats his shoulder in mock comfort.

When they arrive in the lobby of the apartment, they are met by two men in matching navy blue suits having a stand-off with the building security.The concierge behind the counter is standing, arms crossed, looking perturbed by the drama unfolding in their lobby. The suited men stand in their shiny black shoes and stern expressions on their faces, their eyes predatory and fixed on the security guard. There is a deafening silence, each movement carefully measured and calculated. No one speaks, but the tension in the air is palpable.

“Ah, sir,” one of the building security lights up in recognition as they enter the lobby. “These, uh, gentlemen are inquiring after you.”

“This is highly irregular,” the concierge scoffs from behind their desk, but doesn’t move.

The two men in suits turn to face Yoongi, ignoring the concierge. One of them tugs slightly at his jacket, eyeing Yoongi up and down before saying, “Min Yoongi-ssi?”

Yoongi pauses for a moment and takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. With his exhale he mentally dons his ‘public’ persona, ready to deal with whatever bullshit these men have in store. He steps carefully forward, pulling Mina behind himself, keeping her hand in his. He nods curtly at the suits and says, “Yes, I’m Min Yoongi.”

The two men exchange knowing looks before stepping forward with identical serious expressions on their faces. Then one pulls out an ID wallet from his inner pocket. He shows it to Yoongi. Yoongi squints at the ID, noting the government seal, but the man pulls it back before he can read any of the details.

“We’re here on government business,” the taller man in suits says, tapping the badge he just showed him for emphasis. “We require your presence for some questions.” 

It’s clear from their demeanor and tone they are expecting cooperation as opposed to resistance. They don’t look intimidating exactly but there’s something about them that puts Yoongi’s guard up higher than usual—from the way one of them keeps glancing behind him to how the other man’s fingers twitch near his pocket for a split second when they take another step closer towards him.

Yoongi feels Mina’s grip tightening on his hand. He squeezes back, trying to send reassurance through this palm. He wonders for a brief moment if Mina can feel souls by touch the way her mother can. He files that question away for later. 

Turning to Jin, who had come up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him at some point during the conversation, Yoongi nods, silently telling him to take Mina upstairs. Jin tilts his head in understanding and holds his hand out for Mina.

“Come on, Mina-yah,” Jin says calmly. “Let’s go find your eomma.”

Mina pauses for a moment and Yoongi is sure she’s not going to let go of his hand and go to Jin. She looks up at Yoongi who smiles and nods with some kind of confidence he doesn’t actually feel. She looks back at Jin and then steps toward him. Slowly, slowly she releases Yoongi’s hand.

He can’t feel souls, but his hand still feels empty at the loss.

Mina doesn’t take Jin’s hand but still follows him through the lobby toward the elevator. Yoongi watches them go before turning his attention back to the men in suits.

“We can have this conversation at my lawyer’s office. I’ll give you the address and you can meet me there,” Yoongi says definitively.

The men exchange a quick glance before nodding in agreement. “Very well, we will follow you there.”

Yoongi nods curtly, hands them a business card from his wallet with his lawyer’s information on it, and turns to walk towards the exit. He can feel the weight of their stares on his back as he walks, but he keeps his cool and heads towards his car. Once inside, he takes a deep breath and tries to relax. He has dealt with situations like this before, but there is still a sense of unease that lingers in the back of his mind.

Before he pulls out of the parking garage he sends text messages to the BTS group chat, his lawyer, their manager, and security. He pauses trying to decide if he should send something to Eunha as well, but decides Jin will update her better than a text message can.

He drives to his lawyer’s office in silence, the men in suits following him in their own car. As they pull up to the building, Yoongi gets out of his car and walks towards the door without looking back at the men who are following him. His lawyer, Mr. Park, meets him at the door.

“Min Yoongi-ssi,” Mr. Park greets him politely with a bow.

Yoongi nods in acknowledgement before turning to the two men. He says, “These are, I’m sorry I didn’t catch your names or what agency you work for.”

The taller man speaks up, “It’s not important at the moment, Mr. Min. We’re here on official government business and that’s all you need to know.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at the man’s curt response, cutting a glance to his own lawyer who looks annoyed, but decides not to push the issue for now. He follows Mr. Park into his office and takes a seat, gesturing for the men to do the same.

“Before we begin, may I ask what this is in regards to?” Mr. Park asks calmly.

The shorter man speaks up this time, “We’re investigating a matter that involves someone Min Yoongi-ssi had previous contact with.”

While keeping his outward appearance as neutral as possible, Yoongi’s mind whirls through everything that has happened recently, trying to connect anything to something that would have the government knocking on his door. He immediately remembers the conversation in his dining room with Eunha. The words “unsanctioned murder” flit through his mind. Why would the government care about the death of a vampire though? 

“I see,” Mr. Park says. “Well, I will advise Min Yoongi-ssi to not answer any of your questions until I have heard what they are. If I deem it appropriate, he may answer. I would prefer these questions were given to us in writing, but I understand you may be under time pressure. Not that we would know that for certain, since you’ve not told us what this investigation is about.”

The two men scrunch their faces in annoyance, but after a glance at each other, it’s clear neither is going to argue with the lawyer.

Yoongi leans back in his chair, feeling a sense of ease wash over him knowing that Mr. Park is in control. He lets the two men stare at him in silence, their eyes piercing and unyielding. 

As the moments tick by, Yoongi’s mind wanders back to Mina and Eunha. He wonders what Eunha is doing right now and if she’s aware of what’s happening. He knows Jin well enough to know he’s taking care of everything. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of unease and worry for everyone. His hands itch to pull out the phone his buried in his pocket and check the messages.

The silence in the room continues to stretch on, each passing second feeling longer than the one before it. Yoongi can see the two men getting more agitated by the lack of response from him and Mr. Park, but trying to decide on the best questions to ask. He can practically hear their thoughts racing to find a way to get what they want out of him.

Finally, Mr. Park breaks the silence once more. “We will need concrete and specific questions from you in order to proceed with this conversation,” he says calmly.

The taller man leans forward in his chair, a calculated glint of determination in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says slowly. “First, do you know anything about a Park Donghyun-ssi?”

Yoongi blinks at the two men. He glances at his lawyer, who tilts his head indicating Yoongi can speak if he chooses to. Yoongi says, “I’ve heard the name, but I’ve never met him.”

“So, it wouldn’t mean anything to you if we were to inform you that Park Donghyun-ssi was found dead this morning, caught on a bridge piling in the Han?”

Yoongi winces at the imagery. “I would say that sounds gruesome, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“Alright,” Mr. Park breaks in before anyone else can speak again. “I think that’s enough. If this is a murder inquiry, I am going to have to ask you to make an appointment during business hours and to come with a warrant for interrogation.”

The men exchange a glance again, clearly frustrated with the lack of information they were able to extract from Yoongi. As they stand up to leave, the taller man turns to Yoongi and says, “We’ll be in touch, Min Yoongi-ssi, Mr. Park.”

Yoongi simply nods and watches Mr. Park show the men out of the office.

Once he’s back he says, “Unfortunately, I’m not privy to government investigations, so I don’t know what they hope to accomplish with this act. We’ll just have to wait and see if anything else comes up.”

There’s a knock at the door and a moment later Kim Minkyu steps in the office. Yoongi settles into his chair. He knows he’s going to be a while filling in the head of security on everything that just happened and coming up with a strategy for moving forward.

Soon Na Minjae, BTS’s head manager, and Namjoon arrive to also be caught up and brought into the strategy meeting. With the suits gone and some of the direct pressure taken off of him, Yoongi furtively sneaks glances at his phone, checking for text messages.

He scrambles when he finally gets a notification. A text message from Jin telling Yoongi to call.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Yoongi says, standing to step out of the office as he talks. He’s dialing Jin’s number before the door is even shut behind him.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asks.

Jin gives out a pulse of a laugh, as if he’s nervous. Adrenaline surges through Yoongi’s veins.

“Everything is fine, Yoongi-yah,” Jin says. “But, uh, Eunha is here and she seems a bit...preoccupied?”

“What does that mean, hyung?” Yoongi asks, mind drawing blanks as to what could be happening at his apartment.

Jin lets out a slow exhale before he says, “Well, uh, what, uh, what does it look like when someone has gone into death?”

~

“Hey, Mina, it’s so nice to meet you. You’re so beautiful.”

Eunha carefully takes a picture with her phone, eyes watering as Daniel meets Mina for the first time. He doesn’t even notice, eyes only for the small green blanketed bundle carefully nestled in his arms. His smile is wide. His face is partially hidden behind the long brown hair that’s hanging to his shoulders, concealing his profile as he looks down at the baby. Eunha lets her eyes wander over his blue cardigan hanging open to reveal the worn white tee underneath. His jeans, ripped at the knees, end with his equally worn black boots. What strikes Eunha the most as she silently appraises her best friend, is how very young he looks, even while holding someone much younger than himself.

After several minutes, he finally looks up to Eunha, his eyes full of tears, “She’s beautiful, E. She’s clearly all you.”

Eunha lets out a wet laugh. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

Eunha can feel her cheeks warming pink from the attention. She looks around the quiet hospital room trying to distract herself from the awkwardness she’s feeling. A light scent of baby powder and freshness fills the air, with the faintest hint of antiseptic that lingers in the background. The room itself has sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lighting. There’s no flowers, no balloons, no indications of the joyous arrival of new life. She glances back at the pair sitting next to her hospital bed. Dan’s eyes are already back on the baby in his arms. Mina stares up at his face with black eyes, as if waiting for him.

“I don’t know, there might be a little of her dad in there,” Eunha says.

“Let’s hope not,” Daniel chuckles darkly. Eunha feels her heart twist a little in her chest.

“Dan,” she says.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s not right now. I’m just glad you’re both okay,” he says.

Eunha frowns, but nods. She watches as her best friend runs a soft finger tip along Mina’s pudgy cheek.

“What did the doctors say? When can you both leave?” he asks.

Eunha rubs a tired hand across her eyes, feeling a twinge of pain in her abdomen. “Uh, well, they want to observe me for a couple more days, I think. I hate it here, Dan.”

“I know. Just a couple more days, okay?” he says as he reaches a comforting hand to pat Eunha’s thigh over the thin hospital blanket.

“It’s so noisy here,” Eunha whines.

As if to punctuate her complaints, the hospital room’s silence is deafening and oppressive. There is a low hum of machines and beeping monitors, but underneath lies an eerie stillness that permeates the room. 

After a minute, Dan snorts, shattering the tense moment. “I see what you mean.”

“You know what I mean,” Eunha says with a pout. Her brow furrows in thought. “It’s them. They are loud.”

“Who?” Dan says, clearly only half listening as he makes another smiley face at the baby in his arms. He glances up at Eunha when she doesn’t respond. He smiles at her pout. “Oh, the dead, you mean? Yeah, I guess hospitals would suck for that.”

Then his smile gets bigger, seeming to overtake his whole face, his long hair falling around it in a frame. He lifts his arms slightly to show off the babe in his arms, “But who cares about them when you have this beautiful baby right here?”

“You’re dumb,” Eunha says with a laugh. “She is pretty great, though. Isn’t she?”

“The best, E,” Dan agrees with a smile.

Tears burn in Eunha’s eyes as she tries again to nurse Mina back to sleep. The baby had woken up an hour ago and still will not stop fussing. She’s not wailing—not yet—, but she’s whining and the tears are on their way.

“Please, please, just eat a little, baby,” Eunha murmurs into the little girl’s head. The babe’s head squiggles around, refusing to latch onto anything, even though she clearly wants it. A tear tracks down Euha’s cheek as she sends her pleas to ears too young to understand.

The doctors had weaned Eunha off the heavy duty painkillers earlier in the afternoon. Now, at 3 in the morning, Eunha was tired and sore. The site of the incision is shooting pain every time she tries to shift the upset baby in her arms. She knows she needs to call the nurse for more pain medication. And maybe help with nursing, because this is clearly not going well, but Eunha is just so tired.

As if summoned, a dowdy nurse with large pink-rimmed glasses steps quietly into the room.

“Ah, see we’re awake in here,” the nurse says kindly. “I’m just going to do some quick vitals. Don’t mind me.”

“Could- am I due for more pain medication?” Eunha asks faintly. She feels self-conscious knowing that she probably looks as tired as she feels and her baby is clearly not happy. She feels like she’s failing and Mina is only two days old.

“Let me check your chart, dear,” the nurse says with a small smile. “I see Baby is feeling a bit fussy tonight? Are we hungry?”

Eunha nods, looking back down at Mina who is now screwing up her face like she’s going to properly start screaming. Eunha feels her own face scrunching up to match.

“How many wet diapers did we have today?” the nurse asks, glancing at the computer screen. “Ah, looks like you are due for more ibu, yep. I’ll grab that for you. But first—”

The nurse steps over and coos at Mina in Eunha’s arms. Then she reaches out and tilts the baby’s head gently, lining up her mouth with Eunha’s leaking nipple. With the same confident gentleness, she pushes the baby forward until she’s shoved into her source of food. Immediately Mina latches on and starts chugging.

“Ouch,” Eunha says as she feels like her chest is being stabbed by a thousand sharp knives.

“The pain will go away soon, dear,” the nurse replies kindly. “I’ll get those ibus for you.”

Mina has inhaled two painful breasts worth of milk and fallen into a deep sleep before the nurse is even back from the pharmacy cabinet down the hall.

The nurse is back looking at the chart on the computer screen. “We need to get you up and walking tomorrow. Didn’t they have you walking today?”

“Uh, no?” Eunha looks at the nurse in confusion. “They said they were worried about me falling.”

The nurse clicks through something on screen and makes an exasperated sound. “I’m making a note. You need to be walking after abdominal surgery.”

Eunha nods faintly and can’t imagine trying to walk with the amount of pain she’s in. The nurse fixes thick, hot pads around Eunha’s legs explaining they help with blood circulation. Eunha watches on in perplexed exhaustion.

“Sleep now,” the nurse says. “I’ve left some instructions for the morning nurses. I’ll be back in two hours to check on you. You really gave us a fright, you know.”

Without any other explanation, the nurse bustles out of the room again. Eunha decides to ignore her own confusion and sleep before Mina decides she’s hungry again.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Dan, it fucking hurts,” Eunha says heatedly. She watches her best friend doubling over in his hospital chair in laughter.

When he can finally breathe again, he says, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I think I’m hysterical. Going into shock. Yeah, that’s it.”

Eunha rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays at the corners of her lips. She can’t help but feel grateful for the distraction from the pain and exhaustion.

“They never tell you about this part,” Eunha murmurs as she settles Mina back in the bassinet next to her bed.

“The painful part?” Dan asks, his voice softening as he watches Eunha carefully.

“Yeah,” Eunha sighs, settling back against the pillows and wincing at the pain in her lower abdomen. “They tell you about the miracle of birth and all that bullshit, but they never mention how much it hurts afterwards. They never talk about how wrong it can go.”

“I know,” Dan says, sobering up slightly.

A doctor strolls into the room with a nurse flanking him. The hospital is a small one, being in rural Oregon, after all. This doctor, who Eunha cannot for the life of her remember his name right now, is the one she’s been seeing since she finally broke down and started getting check ups at 5 months along. After the denial had finally succumbed to the reality of her baby bump. She thinks it might be Anderson or Andrews? Not that it mattered, she’s only seen him a handful of minutes together over the last several months and he wasn’t present at all for the delivery. Her fault for going into labor on a weekend.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Choi,” the doctor says affably, butchering the pronunciation of her last name horribly. “Just here to check on you and make a couple of care decisions.”

Daniel sits up straighter, eyeing the doctor, and Eunha nods.

The doctor sits on the stool in front of the computer screen and clicks into Eunha’s medical records. The nurse busies herself with checking IV fluids and takes Eunha’s vitals.

“I am happy to see these numbers,” the doctor says. He twirls his stool around to face the hospital bed. “I don’t think we’ll need to do another transfusion.”

“Transfusion?” Eunha asks, blinking.

“You needed a blood transfusion during delivery. You probably don’t remember,” the doctor says matter-of-factly. “I don’t think you’ll need more though.”

Feeling stupid and like her body isn’t her own, all Eunha can do is nod. She watches as the doctor and nurse check her over and then another nurse comes in to check over Mina. Dan asks some questions, which the doctor answers. Eunha feels as if she’s a spectator, watching from outside the room, unable to hear anything happening inside.

As the flurry of activity dies down and the medical professionals shuffle out of the room, Dan turns to Eunha with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sensing her unease.

“I just feel so out of control,” Eunha says, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

Dan nods, his face serious. “But you’re doing it.”

Eunha sighs, running a hand over her face. “I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

“I get it,” Dan says softly. “But you’ve got this, E.”

Eunha smiles weakly at him.

“It’s just,” Dan says, his voice trailing off in thought. “I can’t believe this is real. There’s a whole little human to take care of now.”

“What if I mess up? What if I can’t handle it? What if my parents are right? I’m so fucking young.” Eunha feels the weight of anxiety blanketing her. In some ways, she’s grateful for that weight. It’s better than the feeling of complete disconnect she had moments ago.

“All that matters is that you try your best. That’s all Mina needs. And you have me. We have our plan, which is made only slightly more complicated by the extra small person. But the plan is still good. You know I’ll always be here for you both. We’ll figure this out,” Daniel says, reaching out and squeezing Eunha’s hand.

Eunha nods, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes again. “Thank you, Dan. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Dan smiles softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

“Thank you,” Eunha whispers, her voice choked with emotion.

Dan leans over and kisses her forehead gently before resting his head on the side of the bed.

~

“What’s up, E?”

“Hey, Dan,” Eunha says quietly at the blurry soul in front of her. “Fuck.”

Tears well up in her eyes immediately and she’s faintly aware of them running off her face, dripping into the icy waters at her waist.

Even though the soul in front of her is blurry, features distorted, she can feel him smiling at her. It’s almost enough to warm her numb extremities—she realizes how horribly out of practice she is with her magic that she’s feeling this cold at only the first gateway. Eunha allows herself the count of seven to bask in her friend’s presence. She doesn’t allow herself more time than that, the summoning spell has a limited duration, after all.

Daniel’s soul floats quietly. Waiting. Eunha knows that partly the way the spell works—he has limited ways he can interact without more prompting. But she also knows he is—was—considerate like that.

“I’m feeling lost, Dan,” Eunha says after she reaches the count of seven in her head. “I thought- I thought if I just kept my head down, did my work, was a good eomma for Mina- I thought- fuck.”

The shimmering light of the soul embraces Eunha in what would be a hug if she were in the plane of the living. He says, “You know you are doing your best, Eunha. That’s all you’ve ever done.”

“I’m so tired and so lost. I feel like I’m failing,” Eunha says, watching more of her tears fall to mix with the icy river below.

“Mina is alive and loves you.”

“She’s in danger. Everyone I ever get close to lives in danger because of me,” Eunha grits out, trying to keep from all out sobbing. “This is all my fault.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I? Do I know that?” Eunha recognizes she’s getting a bit hysterical, but she can’t seem to stop herself. “Fuck, Dan. You’re here! You’re fucking here!”

“Everyone has their time to live and their time to die. You know this. You don’t decide that fate,” Daniel’s voice is serious, far more serious than he ever sounded in life. “Life is a tricky thing. We never know how much time we have. You are not the decider of our life’s clock, Eunha.”

“How do I live when everyone I love dies?” Eunha chokes out. She grips her fingers around her haegeum tighter, to keep her hand from trembling. 

Daniel’s soul pauses for a moment before answering. Eunha can see in her mind’s eye the familiar pensive look her best friend would have when he was trying to solve a particularly hard problem. “You keep living, Eunha. You keep going because that’s what life is. You honor their memory by living your life to the fullest, by making the most of the time you have left.”

Eunha shudders as she pulls in a choppy breath. “I feel so lost.”

“You’re not lost, Eunha. The path is in front of you. You just need to keep moving forward,” Daniel says gently. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let yourself be consumed by the fear of losing others. Live in the present and cherish every moment you have with the people you love.”

Eunha nods slowly, tears still streaming down her face.

She can feel her friend’s smile.

“Now, Eunha, I have an important message for you,” the soul continues. Eunha feels the adrenalin set off in her veins at this change of script. As far as she knows, he should not be able to discuss things not brought up by her. He’s only a shadow of his soul, after all.

“The danger you’ve faced is only the beginning. There are powerful forces gathering, and they’re after something that’s very important. Something you’re connected to. They’ll be coming not just for you, but they’ll try to get to you through the others.”

Eunha’s eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about? What others?”

“I can’t say more. The spell is growing weaker and I’ll have to go soon. Be careful who you trust. There are many who would use your magic for ill,” Daniel says, sounding apologetic.

“How do I know who to trust? I can’t do this alone. I’ve been fighting alone for so long,” Eunha says, feeling broken. “I’m so tired.”

“Trust yourself, Eunha.”

Eunha takes a deep breath and watches the shimmer of her friend as his soul blends with the water of the river. Everything is grey here.

“Protect Yoongi, Eunha,” Dan says.

Her eyes widen at the recognition of a name that by all rights Dan shouldn’t know.

“I trust him with Mina. I trust him with you. Protect him. And not by pushing him away,” Dan says. She can envision the scathing glare he is giving her. He knows her penchant for running away to save those around her from getting hurt, doesn’t even have to have further insight to know how she’s already retreated away from Yoongi.

“Trust yourself to keep them safe, Eunha.”

Eunha nods, feeling a sense of dread settle in her stomach, Dan’s warning rattling around in her skull. “I have to go. I have to get back.”

“I know.”

“I miss you. I’ll keep missing you,” Eunha feels the sorrow well up in her chest, overwhelming and crushing the fear and anxiety.

“I know.”

“I- I only have one more use of this spell left,” Eunha says.

“I know. Please give Mina a kiss for me.”

Eunha nods, tears falling freshly again. She says, “I’ll bring her next time. For the last time—for the last spell. She deserves to know her father.”

Daniel’s soul starts fading into the grey of the river, the silvery shimmer dimming, as he starts moving back down the river. She watches him go for as long as she can before she turns back, away from the first gateway in the river, and towards the portal to life. 

Before she starts walking, she hears Dan’s teasing shout, “Keep her safe, E! Go kick butt and save the world!”

She feels the tug of a smile on her lips as she walks, trudging carefully through the water. The pull is distinct, insistent, now that she’s going back up the other way, towards life. The river might have been happy to see her walking further into death, but not so much seeing her retreat again.

She has to concentrate on her footing as she walks, relying on instincts more than anything else. Her legs and feet are numb from standing still in the waist deep icy waters. Her white-knuckle grip holds her haegeum and bow, ready to spell the water into abeyance if needed.

As she walks along, the water of the river becomes more shallow. When the water reaches only to her mid shin, walking becomes easier, even with the tug still there. As walking becomes easier, so does her breathing. While she’s still focused on putting one foot in front of the other, feeling for obstacles and pitfalls under the surface, her mind starts to mull over Daniel’s words.

She needs to get back to the plane of the living as soon as possible. She needs to warn Yoongi and figure out a plan. With a small gasp she remembers that everyone left for a birthday party, away from the security of the shielded and warded apartment building. She kicks herself for being too lost in her own melancholy to stop them from doing something so reckless. 

Eunha is busy admonishing herself when she hears it. A shiver shoots up her spine, pulling her scalp tense into a vice grip. Behind her, still some ways off, she can hear a faint splash, splash, splash of someone—or something—moving in the water. They are clearly trying to move silently, but not quite accomplishing it.

While keeping her ears straining, Eunha continues her pace, not wanting to alert whatever was moving towards her from behind to know she’s caught on to them. The body is corporeal enough to make the splashing, she notes, so not a typical soul. 

Her heart races as she tries to focus on the sound, attempting to gauge how far away it is. She can feel her breathing quicken as she becomes more and more alert to her surroundings. The water continues to splash, getting louder and closer.

Eunha purses her lips, readying a spell, in case she can’t set her haegeum to play quickly enough. Holding symbols for walls, slowing, and rising water in her mind, she firmly plants her feet after whirling around to face the splashing noises.

She takes in the sight before her. A large shadowy humanoid form, black as night, like a void punched out of all the grey of death, stands ankle deep in water. The shadow pauses for a moment, realizing it has been caught. But then it moves again. The movement is strange to Eunha’s eyes. As if the shadow is made of fog or cloud, rather than walking like a human, it rolls, spilling forward toward her at an alarming pace. As it roils forward, the river splashes. Eunha thinks the river is fighting back, trying desperately to keep this dead construct within the realm of death.

Wasting no more time, Eunha sets the haegeum on her hip and pulls the bow taught against the strings. She clears her mind of everything but the symbols for slowing, gravity, and fast tides. She pulls the bow across the haegeum’s strings and the instrument gives out an eerie almost-human-like wail. The song is one Eunha has never heard before, letting her soul dictate the tune needed to banish this creature further down the river. She focuses on the symbols, the song, and not letting her own body succumb to the spell.

“Ahhh,” a crackling voice echoes out across the river, seeming to emanate from the black void creature in front of her. “Death Bringer. You’ve come.”

Eunha tries to compartmentalize her fear. Death constructs should not be able to speak. This creature has no vocal chords, no body to communicate the sounds. She plays on, willing the symbols to do the work she needs them to do.

“You may banish me, Death Bringer,” the creature continues, Eunha can practically feel the electricity of its voice burn across her skin. “I am but the first. Soon you will join us, Death Bringer.”

Then the black form stops fighting, falling backwards, away from Eunha, into the water. With no fight left, the black mass submerges, with only a small portion bobbing in the water as it jets away down further into death.

Eunha waits to make sure the creature is truly gone and that she is alone again, catching her breath. She looks around carefully, scanning the river for any other signs of trouble. The water appears deceptively placid and the horizon stretches empty in all directions. Taking a deep breath, Eunha starts walking again, hurrying now to get out of the river and back to the land of the living.

“Death Bringer,” she huffs to herself under her breath. “That’s a new one.”

Eunha feels a wave of relief wash over her as the river begins to shallow and she can pick up her pace from a wary crawl to a full-on jog. She managed to keep the death construct at bay, but she still has so far to go to get back to safety—even beyond the river. 

The closer she gets, however, the harder it is for her to concentrate. The tug of death seems determined not to let her go so easily, and the longer she jogs on, the stronger it grows. Fear and doubt creep into Eunha’s mind, threatening to consume her if she allows them any say in how she acts or thinks. The river’s siren calls to just stop, rest awhile, let her soul float away to oblivion, joins forces with the other emotions already at war inside her. 

Finally, silence fills the air around her as the portal comes into sight. Taking a deep breath and gathering all of her strength one last time, Eunha steps through the portal, back into the world of the living.

[avengerscompound]

Blank Space - Chapter 8

Blank Space:  A Scarlet Witch Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  2181

Warnings:  A little angst.  Some nice fluff.  People being homophobic.  Smut (F|F, Oral sex, vaginal fingering).

Synopsis:  Wanda has become used to the thoughts of others pressing down on her constantly until one day she meets you. A complete blank space in the world.

Chapter 8

Wanda might have worried about the fact you didn’t seem to need her anymore after you got your powers under control.  She was sure for any normal person when the person they were falling in love with went from living in your pocket to not anymore they might get worried.  Certainly it felt strange you not actually needing her anymore.  The fact that you could now run off to the store to buy things by yourself.  The fact that Steve was now doing one on one training sessions to get you to be a fully functioning member of the team.  The fact you were now part of the team which meant you were forming your own real relationships with the other members.  You could now joke around with Clint and Sam.  Have a drink with Tony and Rhodey.  Blush when Thor complimented you.  Or even snark Steve when he was being too cap.

You didn’t need Wanda anymore and if Wanda were anyone else, that might worrier her.

Except you wanted her and Wanda could hear it clearly any time you got near her.  It dripped from you.  Your love and desire to be with Wanda enclosed around her like a warm comforting blanket.

Maybe it was cheating.  Maybe she should just trust the people she loved simply because she loved them and believed they wouldn’t want to hurt her.  Maybe she would trust you anyway if she was a normal person.  It was hard to know how she would interact with people under normal conditions.  But she wasn’t normal.  And neither were you.

You matched.  She could see you.  Even when you were hiding.   Even the bits of you she kept from the others.  She saw you how you were.  Vulnerable and hurt but so willing to keep going and to love.

And you… you saw her too.  Not as a monster.  Not as a weapon.  Not as a kid who needed protection.  But the strong, soft woman that she was.

She loved how slow you were both taking it too.  You’d both been through a lot and the need to know that this was real and not a result of just finally being seen.

It was real though.  Wanda was in love with you.  She knew it the way she knew her own name.  And thanks to her powers, she knew you loved her too.

“Is this it?”  You asked as Wanda pulled the convertible up to a small diner by the seaside.

“No,”  She teased.  “I’m hungry.  This place looked cute.  Also, it’s the first place without lobster in the name, and so it might actually have food I can eat.”

“Oh,” You said looking around.  You touched your thumbs to your pinky fingers and let out a breath.  “This world is mine.”

All at once your thoughts flooded Wanda’s mind.  You were excited and nervous and a little hungry and very horny.  The ‘taking it slow’ thing had gotten to that built up point and in the end, the two of you had wanted to make your first time together special.  Wanda had booked a cottage in Maine.  The horny thing had been building since she’d suggested it to you.

The two of you got out of the car and headed inside, finding a table in the quaint little diner.  “I don’t know why you suggested Maine if you can’t eat lobster.”  You teased as you looked over the menu.

“I didn’t think that far ahead.  I just thought cute little cottage by the water and colorful leaves.”  She said.  “They have a few things here I can eat.  I won’t starve.”

“That’s good, I wouldn’t want that.”  You teased.

“I have supplies in the car anyway.  We’ve got a cute little kitchen and a little grill outside.  We’re going to make some really nice things.”  She said.

You giggled and reached over, taking her hand.  “I should hope so with all the roadside produce you stopped at on the way up.”

Wanda could feel your desire to kiss her and she smiled and leaned over pressing her lips to yours.  Only happy to oblige.

“You ladies wanna take that elsewhere?”  A gruff voice called out from the counter.

Along with his harsh words, Wanda felt the hate coming from him.  She was used to that, but usually, it was mixed with fear because it came from people who recognized her.  This wasn’t that.  He wanted to hurt you both.  He was picturing the two of you having sex while at the same time thinking about beating you both to death.

As that pure unadulterated loathing flowed from him, your own fear began to grow in you.  You wanted to be unseen and you tapped your fingers on your palms.   Your consciousness started to stutter and start getting quieter.  Wanda moved to your side and put her arms around your shoulders.   “It’s okay.  You have a right to be here.  This is your  world too.”  She soothed.

“What the hell is wrong with her?”  The guy asked, backing up from the counter.  “What is she?”

He was getting scared.  Wanda was glad for it. She felt the strong urge to bury him in that fear.  To make it so he could never escape it.  Wanda wheeled on him, her eyes flashing scarlet.  “She’s a person.  A good and kind person.  Unlike some monsters in here.”

“Go!  Get out of here you freaks!”  He shouted.

Wanda got to her feet and squared off.  You stood with her clinging to her hand.  A red cloud of psionic energy swirled around Wanda’s head as her anger got the best of her.  “You are right to fear us,”  She seethed.  “Be thankful that today you decided to spew your hateful rhetoric at decent people.  Next time you might not be so lucky.”

The guy stumbled back, knocking a pan off the stove.  Wanda led you back outside, slamming the door behind her.

As soon as you were standing in the sunlight Wanda turned to you and cupped your jaw, looking directly in your eyes.  Your thoughts were still swimming in and out for her and she could only imagine what it must look like for any passers-by.  “It’s okay.  You are okay.  There’s no danger here.”  Wanda soothed.

You took a few deep breaths, keeping your eyes locked with Wanda’s.  Slowly your thoughts steadied, though they were mostly now about how embarrassed you were.

“Hey.  There you are.”  She said.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.  I don’t know why he scared me as much as he did.”  You said.

“Don’t be.  He was a monster.  They hide it well.”  She said.  “But I love you.  Don’t let that man decide whether you deserve to be here with me.”

Neither of you had ever used the word before, though you both thought it all the time.  You blinked at her in surprise and a soft smile touched upon your lips.  Wanda felt the love you felt before you even said those words.  “I love you too, Wanda.”

You leaned in and kissed her deeply and she wrapped you in her arms, holding you close.  It was a deep and tender kiss.  One that wiped away all worries about bigots and fears of not belonging.  You loved it each other.  It was out on the table and it couldn’t be taken back.

She pulled back slowly and looked into your eyes.  “Alright,” She said.  “Change of plan.   We go right there and make lunch together.”

She heard your cheeky little thought about lunch not being what you wanted to eat, and when you hopped in the passenger seat and made yourself invisible, she squeezed your thigh playfully.

It was another half an hour before you reached the cottage by the ocean.  It was exactly like the pictures.  Small, quaint and just old enough for it to be charming.  It looked out over the ocean, that was dotted with lobster fishing boats and recreational yachts of various sizes.  Behind it was a small patch of woodland that echoed with the sound of bird calls and woodpeckers hammering away at the trunks of trees.

The two of you had made lunch together and then ate it out of the patio, watching was the tide rolled out.  When you’d eaten you’d taken a walk, hand-in-hand along the beach and then made your way back to the cottage where you cuddled on the couch for a little while.

You nuzzled at her neck and placed a soft kiss at the dip of her collarbone.  “Are we waiting for any reason?”  You asked.

Wanda blushed and shook her head.  “No,” she admitted. “I guess I’m overthinking it.  We wanted it to be special.  But when’s the point that it’s special enough?”

You smiled and leaned your forehead against hers.  “It’s special enough.”

She captured your lips and kissed you deeply.  It soon turned hurried and a little desperate as you both nipped and bit at the other’s lips.  You stood, not breaking the kiss and pulled her with you to the bedroom.  When you reached it you both hurriedly stripped.  Sometimes taking each other’s clothes off. Sometimes focusing on your own.  When you were both naked, Wanda took a step back.  She looked you up and down, seeing you the way no one had.  She took in every imperfection that made you completely perfect to her.

“You are so beautiful.”  She said and kissed you deeply.

You pulled her back onto the bed and the two of you kissed, pressed tightly together. She moved her thigh between your legs and you rocked your hips, grinding your pussy on her bare skin, smearing your wet over it as she did the same to you.  You teased and massaged each other's breasts and her arousal grew and seeped out onto your skin.

You pushed her onto her back and kissed your way down her body.  You took your time, sucking and biting on her nipples until they ached and that ache traveled through her to her cunt.  Sucking and patches of her skin long and hard enough to leave a trail of marks down to her cunt.  By the time you ran the tip of your tongue up her folds, her whole body ached for that touch.  She was a live wire, right on the edge.

You took your time though.  Dragging it out.  There was no rush to bring her to climax.  Rather you seemed to want to postpone it and make her beg for it.  You licked wide, swirling your tongue around, drinking up as much of her as you could.  You sucked her clit into your mouth and pressed your lips around it.  You eased a finger inside her and curled it, stroking her inner walls.

“Yes!  Just like that.  Deeper!  More pressure!”  Wanda cried and begged and pleaded with you.

You added a second finger and corkscrewed your wrist.  Your knuckled dragged over her g-spot and finally, with sweet relief, she came, arching up and crying out.

You stroked her through it and drank her up greedily, before crawling up to her and kissing her hungrily again.  Wanda sucked herself from your lips, the salty, tang that reminded her of the ocean air that surrounded you both.

She pulled back and looked into your eyes.  “Can you make yourself seen for me?”  She whispered.

You nodded and pressed your thumbs and pinkies together.  “This world is mine.”

Your thoughts filled her mind and she began to kiss her way down your body.  When she felt you take particular pleasure in her touch, she’d focus there.  She sucked on your nipples as she drew random patterns on your clit.  Sometimes she pressed hard and did tight little ones, sometimes she used a feather touch and swept wide over it.

She could feel the pressure as it built in you and she moved down lower.  She sucked on your pussy, filling her mouth with your unique taste.  Savoring it as she swept her tongue over your folds.  She pushed her finger inside you and began to fuck you with them.

As she felt you get closer and closer to your orgasm she focused on the things you were reacting to fastest.  Her fingers touched on the spongy surface of your g-spot and you bucked up wildly under her.  She kept stroking it again and again, and you got closer and closer to your release.  As you did, she felt her own building too, like the feelings from you were being transmitted straight to her cunt.

You cried out and your body jerked and spasmed under her, you cunt squeezing tight around her finger.  She moaned into your pussy as she came again, your own orgasm dragging one out of her too.

She crawled back up your body and you wrapped yourselves around each other, kissing deeply.  She was so content and in love with you in that moment.  You had come so far since the blank space in the world you created alerted you to your existence.  Maybe it was fate.  Whatever the case, you were together now, and she would make a new place in the word for you together.

~ END ~

[seriouslyhooked]

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 4/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey all! I am back with another chapter of ‘Some Call it Magic’ and it’s a good one if I do say so myself. It includes more meddling Henry, some much needed CS interaction, and it also includes the start of Killian’s curiosity about Storybrooke and Emma herself. Many of you have asked when he will start to pick up on the magic, and these are the first steps of that happening. No worries though people, I always stay with the fluff and this story will be no exception. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

The myth of weekends being designed for relaxation was one obviously created by a person without children.

Honestly in Emma’s experience, weekends were often the busiest time of her week. Though she hung up her work apron at the door on Friday evening (not to return for longer than an hour so on Saturdays or Sundays just to check in), she got to slip into a different responsibility landscape, the one of full-time Mom, housekeeper, cook, and cruise director for both her and Henry. That shift was often tiring and energy consuming, and most weekend nights Emma crashed even harder at the end of the day than she did on the craziest ones at the café, but even with that being the case, Emma loved her time at home and with her kid. Weekends might not often be calming, but they were valuable, and Emma wouldn’t trade these moments with Henry for anything.

Emma was lucky in so many ways, mostly because her son was so self-sufficient and truly well behaved. Henry knew it was a lot for Emma to juggle everything on her own. He’d had an understanding of her being a single parent since he was just a little boy, and he was patient when a lot of other ten year olds wouldn’t be, but he was also a handful. Her greatest blessing or not, Henry was excitable and spirited and sometimes that created moments of tension or conflict for Emma.

“Hey Mom?!” Henry yelled through the door of the bathroom where Emma was getting ready to grab a quick shower. She’d set him up with breakfast and the TV remote to tide him over for just a half an hour or so, but not even two minutes had gone by and she was already being beckoned for something.

“Yeah kid?” she replied.

“Do you know where the shovel is?” He asked. His tone was light and airy, but also a little suspicious, as if Henry was being too consciously polite for him to not be up to something. Emma’s warning bells sounded immediately in the back of her mind. A shovel? Why did Henry need a shovel?

“Did you check the garage, by the ladder and the hose?”

Too late Emma realized it might not actually be the best thing to tell Henry where he could find the shovel in question. Now would be the moment to tell him to hold his horses and that she’d help him with whatever idea he had when she was done, but she’d only managed one cup of coffee this morning and she was off her game. She was just about to retract that statement and tell him to press the pause button when Henry giddily replied and essentially dismissed her.

“Nope, I’ll check there thanks, Mom!”

With that and no other context he was off, racing down the stairs and Emma was left there sighing, knowing that this was about to be the quickest shower ever thanks to her new worries about what her kid might be getting up to.

Emma raced through everything in barely ten minutes, got dressed, and pulled her hair back, not giving a damn about how she looked or anything like that when she was worried about Henry. All she could think was that he’d come up with some crazy idea to build a mote or something around their house, or that he’d try to make improvements to the garden that could be a disaster. As it was she was barely keeping that jungle in check thanks to those dreams that she was still having about Killian, and there were a number of enchantments and charms she didn’t want Henry to have to mess with without her. But when she finally got outside, Emma was shocked to find that Henry wasn’t using the shovel in their yard at all. It was way worse, because at this moment Henry was digging up an entire chunk of Killian’s lawn and tearing up grass that would be impossible for her to replace speedily without giving away her magic to their friendly, charming neighbor.

“Henry, what are you doing?!” Emma asked, barely containing any of her shock or horror at this. Only when Henry turned back around, however, did Emma notice that he wasn’t alone. Killian was actually with Henry and he didn’t have a look of anger or anything on his face at all. He only had surprise at her being there, and then a genuine smile at her appearance.

“Helping Killian make a garden of his own. His house is sad. It needs more color.”

Oh great, so not only was Henry probably forcing his ideals on Killian right now, but he was also tossing around some insults about the home that Killian had just purchased for himself. Emma didn’t really know what to say, and she hadn’t come up with anything as she crossed the lawn to come closer to them, but Killian had taken it upon himself to step in and assure her, crossing the rest of the space that was left between them until he was close enough for her to touch, or pull close, or…

Pull it together, Emma. Now isn’t the time to fantasize about the neighbor.

“I apologize love, but I mentioned to Henry that I was going to try and do something with the space back here a few days ago. I even got all the supplies that the greenhouse in town said I would need, but I forgot a larger shovel and using the little trowel was… well let’s say less than ideal.”

Emma tamped down an immediate thought that with that accent of his and the charming, endearing manner, Killian could make anything seem ideal, because it was totally inappropriate for her to be thinking that way right now. Honestly she was completely infuriated with her own inability to keep her cool around this guy, but she prayed that on the outside she didn’t appear as flustered as she felt internally.

“So this was your idea?” Emma asked, clarifying and feeling the waves of relief washing over her as Killian’s blue eyes remained kind and sincere.

There was no sign in Killian’s expression that he was feeling put out by Henry, but Emma did worry. She didn’t really have any experience with new neighbors, not since she and Henry had moved to town, and Henry had always been a little more cognoscente of boundaries in those exchanges. Those boundaries seemed to be missing with Killian though, and Emma felt all the more cautious because of it. The last thing she wanted was Henry to get too attached or to read too much into their ties to Killian. They might live fifty yards away from each other, but that didn’t mean he had to be a part of their lives if he didn’t want to be. Yet the thought that Killian wouldn’t be there sent a pang through Emma that she neither wanted to analyze right now, nor could indulge for longer than a second.

“Aye, Swan. I took one look at the perfection you’ve crafted over there, and though I’ve no hopes of matching it, I couldn’t bear to think I’m depriving the neighborhood of anything.”

Emma willed herself not to blush at the compliment, and though it was on the tip of her tongue to dig for more praise about her garden and her house, she didn’t. Most people called her and Henry’s home ‘eclectic.’ Colorful was putting it mildly, and all the little knickknacks and everything they had outside had largely been of Henry’s choice, but for Killian to stand here and say that he liked it, and for there not be even a trace of deception in his eyes meant something to her. That house, unusual and unexpected as it was, was a part of Emma’s story, and whether she’d meant it to or not, it reflected a lot not just about her son, but of her personality too. This was the kind of home she’d wanted as a girl, and now that she had a place to call home and had found her family in Henry, she’d tried to make that for the two of them to the best of her ability.

“No one expects you to do this, Killian. I hope you don’t feel like anyone’s pressured you to become a landscaper overnight or anything…”

The rest of her words trailed off, not because Emma didn’t honestly believe them, but because at that moment Killian stepped forward again, closing some more space between them, and took her hand. It was a level of intimacy that Emma hadn’t expected, but the reaction her body had to his at the first touch of his hand on hers was too overpowering to ignore. She felt lighter, brighter, and still somehow her whole person was riddled with energy and butterflies. It was perplexing and yet so desirable all at once. Emma felt scattered in a hundred directions and totally centered at the same time, like she’d just been waiting for a chance to have this man’s hand in hers. Like it was somehow part of her destiny.

This was the first time she and Killian had ever touched now that she thought about it. They’d never so much as shared a handshake in introduction, but on some level this felt like a kind of sensory memory. Emma was entirely sure that she’d never known an instant response like this to anyone in the whole of her life, but the more muted parts of her dreams from the past few months jumped to the forefront of her mind. That safety and simultaneous elation that she’d been feeling when tucked into her fantasies at night were heightened now and Emma was speechless, affected in a way she’d never intended to be with anyone.

“The motive for my new attempt at a green thumb is simple, Swan,” Killian started with a newly added element of gravel in his tone. “I saw the little oasis you and Henry have created and I thought I might like to have a part of that too.”

Emma’s eyes flew back from where their hands were connected up to Killian again and ignoring how handsome he was in this moment of earnest reassurance wasn’t an option. If she’d been less enthralled by him, she might have been listening to those nagging instincts in the back of her mind that said not to let any man get too close, but for a moment longer she let herself just hear what he’d said and pretend it could mean more than it had. Though he was talking about gardening, it almost felt like he meant being a part of their world over all, and Emma liked the sound of that more than she should.

“You could help us if you want, Mom,” Henry offered, and only then did Emma really come back to herself.

She looked to her son’s wide grin and his clear appreciation for Emma and Killian being as close as they were, and that was when the panic set in again. It was irrational, but Emma couldn’t give Henry hope when she didn’t actually know the score herself. Emma was so consumed by the sudden arrival of their new neighbor and the cascade of emotions he inspired that she hadn’t even had a chance to figure out exactly what she was feeling or whether this whole thing was a good idea.

Her past told her it was the makings of a full blown disaster, but the continued warmth and understanding in Killian’s eyes, even when she pulled her hand back and began to make her retreat, sparked something in Emma. Maybe Killian was different. Maybe he wouldn’t care about the baggage and the hesitations and the whole magic thing. But that wasn’t something for her to figure out right now. Right now she needed space and a chance to clear her head.

“Wish I could kid, but some of us still have chores to do.”

Emma noticed the slight pout that came to Henry’s face and part of her felt bad for not indulging him, but it was more important for her to draw the lines in the sand now. Giving him false hope or letting Henry build up a relationship that didn’t actually exist between her and Killian yet was dangerous and she just couldn’t let that happen. To avoid the look of disappointment on Henry’s face she looked back to Killian and vocalized her major concern.

“I know Henry can be persuasive, but are you sure you want the help? This kid can talk with the best of them.” That last part she said teasingly, knowing that to the people she loved and trusted and had let into her life, Henry’s chatter was always welcome. Anyone who didn’t like it was someone Emma didn’t need in her life anyway, but Henry didn’t realize the full depth of that when he replied.

“Hey!” Henry said, feigning insult. She shot Henry a soft smile and he warmed to her again in an instant, looking to Killian who responded as convincingly as anyone could.

“I’m grateful for any assistance I can get, and with Henry’s aid I’m confident I can get something passable conjured in no time.”

Emma’s mind faltered on the choice of wording. ‘Conjuring’ was often magically associated, at least in her experience, and she gave one last look at Killian, searching for some kind of sign. She wasn’t stupid after all, and there was a risk that even though she’d tried to keep her more magical inclinations in check that he might have noticed her or something else in town, but there was nothing behind his eyes other than an easy affection and this hint that underneath the gentlemanly neighborliness was a fire she wanted to embrace like nothing else.

“Well alright then. I’ll be inside if you guys need me, okay?”

Both Killian and Henry agreed and Emma moved back to the house, only stealing one more glance at the two of them as she hovered on the back porch. They’d already dived right into things, and Henry was dishing out instructions that Emma could hear but barely. And even though she still had that niggling voice of doubt in the back of her mind that this was a bad idea, Emma couldn’t help but smile. The two of them looked good out there together figuring out a problem, and maybe if things were different Emma would be out there with them too, enjoying the sunlight and the crisp fall air as they were.

Instead Emma decided to distract herself as best as she could. She started with getting some cleaning done and only after noticing the date on the calendar in the kitchen did she realize she was due for some magical cleanup too. She wasn’t particularly worried about spirits or ghosts like people were in the movies, but there were some things she could do to keep the aura in here as light and positive as she wanted. Emma went through the steps of burning incense in each room and marking them the way she needed with care and delicacy.

In all her years in Storybrooke, Emma couldn’t recall ever doing this so quietly, but she was hyperaware of the fact that this wasn’t strictly normal given the closeness of her magically-unaware neighbor. Maybe she could play it off as a new-age fad if Killian ended up seeing her but if he was smart it would raise suspicions, and Emma had to believe that he was smart after the past week of getting to know him a little more each day.

For one thing he always had a book in hand and it was a different one each time she saw him. Emma had also noticed that he got not one, but four national papers delivered to his house each day, and Emma honestly hadn’t realized that was even a possibility this far away from the city. They got the Storybrooke Gazette when it came once a month (because every resident got a copy, no matter if they wanted to or now), but Killian was aware of the world outside in a way Emma wasn’t. She was informed, sure, but her life was here, and Storybrooke was where she liked to focus her energy and thoughts since it had been the one place she’d ever been that provided her with a sense of safety and belonging.

But there was more to Killian that she’d gathered too. Like how he’d been sharp enough to pick up on some town dynamics in under a week. Emma had seen him give deference where it needed to be given (particularly to the old ladies in town who fancied themselves unofficial guardians of Storybrooke) and which people represented potential pitfalls (like the gossipy guys who frequented Granny’s diner and the few families who always had some feud or other going). Killian was clearly very aware, and that wit and charm she’d witnessed first hand were thrown around town in spades, but Emma couldn’t help but feel like it was different when it was directed at her.

There was just something about the way his voice dipped slightly lower when his attention was fixed her way, and how Killian looked at her as if he could read the thoughts she worked so hard to keep covert. It was a sensation she’d expected to lessen over time, but it had been quite the opposite and instead Emma felt more and more on display to her new neighbor as the days wore on. He was getting closer and at the same time he was proving himself to be genuinely kind and caring. He was good with Henry and patient towards her continuously meddling friends, but could she trust him?

The sudden blaring ring of the telephone almost gave Emma a heart attack and she physically jumped at the sound at the same time that a light bulb in the room shattered. Shit! Her magic was too close to the surface recently, and now a harmless ringing was enough to set her off. This was not good.

Ignoring the shattered glass for a second, Emma ran to the kitchen to grab the phone. She didn’t bother to hide her distraction as she answered though, and her eyes moved automatically through the window where in the distance she could still see Killian and Henry working.

“Hello?”

“Emma it’s me.” The ‘me’ in question was Mary Margaret, but Emma didn’t even have time to truly greet her friend before she launched into why she’d called. “I need your help. David’s almost out of the antidote he has for foxglove poisoning and there have already been a few dogs in today with symptoms. We have enough for now but if any more come in we won’t be able to treat them.”

“Any idea how they came in contact?” Emma asked, not liking the idea of any animal getting sick, and hoping she could find a way to help as she cleaned up the last of the broken bulb and discarded it in the trash.

“There was some in the dog park. We got rid of it all when the first case came in, but since the park staff had the last few weeks off, no one noticed.”

Well that was a relief at least, but Emma was still slightly confused as to why Mary Margaret was asking her. Usually when it came to healing through a potion or otherwise the first person any of them went to was Elsa. That was her surest gift with people and with animals, and while Emma could hold her own, it would never be second nature like it was to her friend.

“Did you try Els?” Emma asked, even as she moved to one of the shelves and pulled down one of her spell books that she’d written up on her own years ago with the help of her friends and some of the other magically inclined people in town.

“She’s down in Boston for that conference.”

“Oh right,” Emma said, flipping to a page with something she thought would help. It was a magical antitoxin so to speak, and though she’d never had cause to make this draught before, it should work well if she got all the ingredients she needed. “Well I’ll get right on it. Shouldn’t take too long. Maybe a half an hour?”

“You’re a life saver, Emma. Literally.”

Emma shook her head even as she smiled, and then she said goodbye to Mary Margaret and promised to get there soon. When the call was ended, Emma gathered everything she needed from her special non-food related pantry on the counter and looked out the far window again to make sure that Killian and Henry were right where they’d left them. They were, thankfully, and Emma dove in, reading through the instructions and taking care to follow every step precisely as she mixed them together. Magic required a lot of concentration and following exact steps and Emma had always been good at that, shutting out her surroundings to give herself totally the process when the time called for it.

However, right before she was about to add the final ingredient ten minutes later, Henry’s laugh wafted through the window and caught Emma’s attention. She looked outside and noticed that he and Killian were far closer than they’d just been, and headed this way. Not only that but from this distance, Emma had a far better look at how hard Killian had actually been working, and when he moved to wipe his face clean of any sweat and dirt with the bottom of his shirt, Emma froze totally caught by the sight of the body that was underneath that t-shirt all day.

“Holy -,” Before Emma could finish that thought a loud boom sounded and a giant puff of billowing silvery-blue smoke billowed out of the pot she’d been using. She’d intended to use a soundproofing spell to keep anyone from hearing that, but she’d gotten so distracted and now the whole neighborhood had probably heard. “Crap!”

“Mom?!” Henry yelled, clearly hearing the loud, unexplained bang at the same time Killian called out, “Emma!”

Shit!

…………..

The feeling racking Killian’s body at the moment when he heard the loud booming sound from Emma’s house was nothing short of immense panic, and his first instinct was to get to her. A sound that loud couldn’t be good and Emma was still in that house, potentially at risk or hurt or worse. His second instinct overtook him, however, and he grabbed Henry before the lad could sprint into a potentially dangerous situation.

“Henry, wait! I’ve got her, but you need to stay right here. You got it?”

Henry looked worried and like he might run to save his Mom regardless of the instructions, but he stopped and gave a shaky nod and Killian nodded back before sprinting towards the back door that Emma stepped out coughing. They ran right into each other, and though Killian could have stepped back from her, he didn’t enjoying the feeling that Emma was in his arms, and rejoicing in the fact that she was okay.

“Emma, are you alright?”

His voice was charged with emotion and came out sounding more like a brogue than it usually did, but it couldn’t be helped. He was dueling too incredibly strong currents of feeling. On the one hand he was still coming down from that peak of fear that Emma was in danger, but on the other he felt more alive than ever before. Holding her like this, having his hands on her even if the situation was unusual was a godsend.

He’d felt this same zap of an electrifying current when he reached for her hand this morning in the garden, but right now, with her flush against him and her chest heaving for breath as her body gave a slight shiver at the contact, Killian was in a daze. This sensation was heady and intoxicating and he never wanted to move away from it. Emma took up every bit of his senses, and he took in the hint of lavender and vanilla that clung to her right now, surprised that she could smell this sweet when he’d expected some kind of fire or explosion inside the house. When she bit her lip, Killian had a want to do that too and then kiss it better, but he held back, needing more than anything to know she was okay.

“Yeah, sorry. I was… trying a new recipe and somehow managed to mess it up. Sorry for all the noise though. Everything’s fine.”

Killian didn’t know how he was so certain, but he felt like Emma was speaking in half-truths right now. She hadn’t flat out lied, but there was more to the story, and though he didn’t want to look away from those beautiful green eyes of hers, he did, seeing what looked like some lingering smoke through the kitchen window. He couldn’t really tell since the lights were off inside but it seemed to be a strange color, and then just as soon as it was there it was gone, and Killian was left wondering what was real and what was a figment of his imagination.

“Killian?” Emma said quietly, bringing his eyes back to hers, and finally he felt like he could breathe again. She was actually all right, and whatever had happened, that was the most important thing. “I’m fine, really.”

The tremble in Emma’s voice pierced through everything else in this moment, and he didn’t know what had caused it. Maybe she’d been frightened when the sound went off, or maybe, as he was guessing from the look in her eyes, she was a little scared of him. He felt like he was getting close to something, or some things really, things that hadn’t added up as the week went on, but whatever Emma was hiding, Killian didn’t care. The only thing he could think was that he wanted to comfort her, and that he wanted that light in her eyes that he’d seen this morning when they were joking together back.

“Forgive me, love,” he said, his hand coming up so his thumb could brush away a slight smudge on her cheek. “I just didn’t realize I was living next to a mad scientist. Are you given to such experiments in the kitchen very often?” Emma smiled at that, and shook her head, the tension in her shoulders lessening as she did.

“Not exactly,” Emma replied, causing Killian to smile too as the sound of smaller footsteps up the porch steps sounded out around them. Immediately Killian moved back, not wanting to crowd Emma when her son was in need of her, or to upset Henry who would no doubt need consolation.

“Mom?” Henry asked, running up the porch and glomming onto her with a huge hug. It was heart warming to see, a reuniting between mother and son, even if it had been a false alarm, and Killian noticed the way Emma’s eyes got a little misty at Henry’s intensity. She clearly didn’t like that she’d worried him, and that protective instinct that she carried with her rushed to the surface as she ran her hand through his hair soothingly.

“Hey kid, sorry I scared you.”

“That’s okay. Killian helped a lot,” Henry said as he pulled back from the hug and smiled at Killian. “He was super brave.”

“Is that right?” Emma asked, looking back at Killian with a bit of humor in her jade colored eyes that shot straight to Killian’s core. He’d be whatever the heck Emma Swan wanted, as long as he could be on the receiving end of that look forever.

“Yup. I think we should invite him to dinner to say thank you,” Henry insisted.

Wow that kid was smooth, and if Killian wasn’t so busy trying to play it cool and not give away just how excited he was at the prospect of a dinner with Emma and her son, he would have applauded him. As it was, Henry had spent most of the past few hours not only talking to Killian about Storybrooke and his life with school and his friends, but about Emma too.

Killian had learned a lot, and he’d grown more secure in the little bit of attempted matchmaking on Henry’s part. The lad might be young, but his plan was relatively clear: he wanted his Mum to have her chance at love, and for whatever reason he seemed to think Killian a good candidate for that role. Not that Killian resented that. In fact he was all too eager to take on the part despite knowing Emma for so short a time.

Killian saw the slight bit of hesitation on Emma’s part, but he had this real and true need for her not to deflect from this proposition. Perhaps it was selfish, but he didn’t want his time to be over with Emma or her son today. In fact, this had been the best weekend he’d had in a very long time simply because of how much time he’d gotten to be with them. He could only imagine how good it would feel to have more time in an even more tangible way.

“Actually lad, I was hoping to invite you two to my house tonight. See I haven’t gotten the chance to invite anyone over yet, and I think Luna’s a bit lonely.”

Luna was the name of his new feline companion and her celestially inspired moniker was courtesy of Henry’s insistence. After a few days of just speaking at the little fur ball casually instead of giving her a real name, Killian asked for some advice and Henry had gone on and on about moon cycles and the lunar calendar having all sorts of power. Then when he saw Killian’s genuine curiosity at his knowing so much about the moon, Henry ended his factual monologue with a final Harry Potter endorsement and Killian was sold. It was of no real matter to him in the end, after all, but to Henry that gesture had been huge and very well received.

“Can we go Mom? Please?” Henry asked, and both Henry and Killian looked to Emma who was considering the prospect of a night with him.

“You sure we wouldn’t be putting you out?” Emma asked and Killian shook his head immediately.

“I can think of few things I’d rather do than share a meal with the Swans, love. Seems a guarantee for a night well spent.”

At his words Emma’s cheeks turned a little pink, and though he tried to hide his body’s natural response to that, it was hard. Killian loved the way her creamy skin sometimes gave her thoughts away like that, and he wanted to see that blush deeper and further across her skin. Yet now was neither the time nor place to explore those wishes, and Killian was aware that he still had a ways to go in convincing the entrancing woman next door that he was worth putting her trust in.

“Then yes, we’d love to come,” Emma said, sending Henry into an excited tizzy as he came to high five Killian. “But...” Emma said to Henry in particular. “I have to get something over to Mary Margaret and David and then stop by the café right now, so why don’t you get cleaned up and then we’ll head out to do that?”

Henry didn’t waste any time in running inside to adhere to his mother’s wishes, and Killian and Emma both watched him go. Killian had to smile at the boy’s enthusiasm, and he only hoped he could manage to make a night fun enough to actually keep Henry entertained. Come to think of it, he had a number of things to do seeing as he wasn’t really a chef by any stretch of the imagination, and that he still had quite a few furnishings missing from his humble abode.

“So we’ll see you tonight then?” Emma asked, pulling Killian back from the new worries that had sprung from his possibly over eager invitation, and when his eyes came back to see a hopeful looking Emma he was calmed once more. Whatever he had to do to get his affairs in order for this evening he would gladly do to make sure it was a good night for all of them.

“See you tonight, Swan.”

Watching Emma head back into her house, Killian lingered for just a moment before returning home once more. The last of the gardening supplies were still outside, and he tried to get them all put away as quickly as he could so as to get on to what really needed doing. He had a new mission to pursue and it involved getting this place (and himself) ready for the dinner he’d just offered to host with little to no time in advance.

Hours, five or six at most, were all that he had to get this right, but despite the time crunch Killian felt good about this. It was a similar high to the ones he had caught in the early days of his writing, when there were deadlines to get to and serious cases that needed solving. Back in New York he’d worked oftentimes with the police, scouting sources and cultivating people who knew those streets and the big players in every neighborhood and borough, and the best cases were the ones where he actually helped. If the bad guys went away for what they did and the victims and their families of a crime got some kind of justice that was all Killian could ask for. Yet it had been a long time since he got any kind of thrill out of what he did. A sense of completing his duty, yes, but the passion he’d once held dear had faded a long time ago.

Having it back now and in such a different set of circumstances might have worried a less convinced man, but Killian was certain that this path he was on, the one that led to Emma and Henry, was the one he was meant to find. The only question was what lay underneath the surface. For there was something going on there, and something going on in the town of Storybrooke over all that Killian had yet to put his finger on but was getting closer to every day.

The search for those answers was one Killian had taken on with vigor almost since the moment he arrived in town. Having little else to do other than try his hand at a novel or reading, some of Killian’s older instincts returned and he was starting to take note of everything around him. They might seem like minor occurrences to anyone else, but for Killian it was all just a little too out of the ordinary. He had a little notebook dedicated to those moments too, with bullets listed about strangely ever present blue birds, strange riddles some of the townspeople spoke in, and weather trends that sparked at strange intervals and didn’t turn up on Doppler radars for no apparent reason.

None of what he’d seen so far, however, scared him (not even the moment he swore he saw a black wolf, or at very least a very large dog at the tree line of the Storybrooke forest a few nights ago), but Killian wanted some kind of answer. He hated to feel he was going mad or seeing things that weren’t happening, so he’d snooped a little more in the hopes of validating his intuitive feelings.

That was how he’d found himself a few days back in the archives of the small town hall at the center of Storybrooke, looking up old records and copies of the Storybrooke Gazette. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but what he’d found was interesting. There were a number of stories that in any other town would have seemed fantastical or amazing. Over the last few decades there were more than a few accidents listed that never seemed to result in serious injury, and natural disasters that the town always weathered or avoided completely, even when surrounding areas had been hit hard with flooding or wind damage. But even more curious was the fact that the people writing these stories never dug any deeper. No one ever asked the survivors or witnesses throughout the years for details on their amazing escapes or the good fortune of this town on the whole, or if they had, nothing ever seemed to make its way to print.

Eventually Killian had found something else to draw his attention though – the town charter. Now, Killian wasn’t a local historian, and perhaps there was a chance that many towns from this part of the world and established at around the same time had professed similar goals when creating their little hamlets, but the terms and the wording, even given the style hundreds of years ago was curious. The founders talked about Storybrooke being a ‘sacred haven’ and there were many mention of ‘gifts,’ all of which were welcome. There was no mention of occupations or ideologies, but talents and skills and ‘forces’ Killian didn’t really get were listed a plenty. It was strange to Killian, but also not a bad ideal to build a community on. Really, when he thought about it, it was a totally inclusive piece of paper, and something, arguably for the whole town to be proud of despite the peculiar way it was stated.

“So I hear you’ve got company coming over tonight. My invite must have gotten lost in the mail.”

The teasing words came Killian’s way as he stepped onto the main road en route to the store, and Killian knew even before he looked up to meet the speaker’s eye that it was David. Killian had run into the man a number of times so far this week, and each encounter had been a pleasant one. Based on the jest in the man’s voice, Killian also believed there was a chance they might one day be actual friends. Now Killian just had to figure out how to tell him in a kind way that there wasn’t a chance in hell he was inviting him. This was a dinner he’d wanted for a while, and adding more people to the party would just give Emma the chance to hide from him more, which he didn’t want in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I already got an earful from Henry when I made that joke. It’s Swans only tonight.”

Killian knew what David meant, that just Emma and Henry would be his guests this evening, but for some reason his heart and mind jumped on the idea that whatever their last name, the three of them might be a unit. It was probably mental, and more than a little early for him to be thinking that way, but he couldn’t help it. All Killian could do was keep that little tidbit to himself and try to respond to David as best he could.

“You seem awfully interested in my house guests, mate.”

“Oh I am. Mary Margaret’s in the best mood because of it, and when my wife is happy, I’m happy.”

Happy was one word for it but smug was another. David was downright delighted at this turn of events (no doubt because he’d been bringing up Killian asking Emma out for days now) and when Killian moved to scratch his ear in an old nervous habit, David noticed it, laughing aloud with nothing but good humor coming through in the sound.

“There’s just one thing I can’t quite figure out,” David quipped.

“And what’s that?” Killian asked, expecting some more thinly veiled interrogation about his intentions with Emma.

“Aren’t you the same guy that told me not two days ago you don’t know how to cook?”

“Aye. So it should be an interesting night to say the least.”

The confession on Killian’s part set David to chuckling again and eventually Killian joined in. After all, if he couldn’t laugh at himself, what kind of man was he? He wasn’t too proud to admit he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew with this, but he fully intended to rise to the challenge and he’d brought the cookbook Liam purchased for him years ago that he never opened as a guide. Hopefully somewhere in here he’d find something to make that was edible for this evening.

“Should be. Well I’ll let you get to it then,” David said, nodding as a means of goodbye and turning around, but before he could get to far Killian called out to him again.

“Hey Dave?” David turned around still smiling, but he sobered some when he saw Killian, no doubt picking up on the loaded nature of what he was about to say.

“Yeah?”

“You mentioned there being a time when I’d have some uh… questions about Storybrooke.” Well that was clunky, but it was also as delicate as Killian could be. Instantly recognition colored David’s expression and he nodded.

“I did, yeah. You ready to ask them yet?” David asked, the query vague but hinting that he didn’t think Killian was a mad man for thinking something was up in this town. That in itself was kind of a relief to be honest.

“I think I might be getting there.”

“Well when you’re sure, call me. We’ll get a drink and I’ll answer what I can.”

“Right. Thanks,” Killian said, feeling like he’d get to that point rather soon if things continued like this much longer.

“Just out of curiosity, what’s your gut telling you?” David asked.

His gut? His gut was telling Killian that this was home or at the very least it was the closest he’d ever come to home since he was a small boy. Despite the signs that something might be different about this town, Killian didn’t feel anything bad about the place. In fact he admired it, feeling a connection to it the more time he spent here. These questions and this research? They were all just his curiosity coming out to play, and it he were truly honest a part of that circled back to Emma. For some reason Killian felt like it was connected, like if he figured out Storybrooke, he might figure out the woman who lived here who was already taking up far too much room in his heart to be normal. But he didn’t expect to find something bad. He just wanted a clearer picture and to know all of Emma no matter what lay beneath the surface.

“To stay, and that whatever it is it’s not bad just...”

“Special?” David filled in, reminding him of their first conversation.

“Aye.”

David grinned at that and tilted his head slightly, signaling to Killian that the man had some private thoughts about that answer, but it was the truth. Killian had no intention of leaving Storybrooke, not when he’d found so many things here to bind him already. And it was a special place, one he wanted a better understanding of so he could appreciate it more and let go of this feeling that he was missing something, which would always be just a tad bit unsettling.

“Good luck on dinner man. And don’t get yourself too worked up. Worst case you go simple and make grilled cheese. Emma loves grilled cheese.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Killian replied as David set off with a wave and moved down the street. And with that, Killian set forth himself, largely letting go of those questions he’d been having and focusing instead on creating the night that he hoped for for two people who he desperately wanted to see happy.

Post-Note: The thing that gets me every time I’m at the start of the story is that it feels like a slow burn even when it isn’t really. Four chapters in and I am already anxiously awaiting some actual quality CS alone time, but they tell me patience is a virtue and I’m choosing to believe them. Anyway, next chapter will be bringing the dinner that Emma and Henry are going to at Killian’s. I anticipate much cuteness and fluff (as per usual). I also managed to come up with some more chapters in this outline and I am happy to announce that there should be at least ten chapters of this fun little story by the end of the road. I hope you guys enjoyed and thank you all so much for reading!