#i do not want to leave cabin 9 and cabin 12 alone together

[totallynots8tan]

Most of what we build is entirely for that purpose. (The giant hole in the Aphrodite cabin was an accident, though)

yeah but how many things has cabin 9 created just to annoy people

[stormingfrost]

Wonders of the Invisible World 

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy, Katherine/nightlight

summary: 

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day eleven: Transmogrify 

Read it on AO3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 /13

chapter eleven: Transmogrify

under cut

Bunny looked down at the scene in front of him. Margret Overland held the body of her brother, which oddly enough, wasn’t a corpse anymore. Five humans gathered around her. Katherine Salazar sat a short distance away from them, bound with magic and looking unbelievably irritable. Two wolves circled her. 

“You’ll kill him,” she was saying. “I’m sorry but he will die if he doesn’t get a pure soul.” 

Bunny hopped down, shivering from the cold. He landed behind the group, towering over them.

Katherine locked eyes with him. Her eyes widened, a sheepish look painting her face. 

“Excuse me,” Bunny said. The five humans jumped, turning around to face him. 

“Giant bunny,” One of the women said. “Mary.” She nudged the Witch. Mary turned around, looking at Bunny with a grief-stricken expression. 

Just like he’d first met her. 

Bunny knelt, his kilt protecting his legs from the snow. 

“Let me look at him, Mary.” 

Mary held her brother closer to her, maybe on instinct. 

“You’re not going to eat him, are you?” One of the children asked. “You’ve got forward-facing eyes. You’re a predator species.” 

“So are you,” Bunny replied. The boy decided that it was an acceptable answer. 

 Mary hesitantly shifted her brother over to Bunny’s lap. Bunny sifted through his sporran, grabbing an ornate bottle. He lifted the boy’s head, giving him it to drink. 

“That will stabilize the body for a while. We will have to get the others to restore him. I cannot do it myself.” 

“Restore him? You mean Nightlight?” Katherine asked. Bunny regarded her. 

“We’ll see. Why is she-“ 

“She tried to kill the girl in exchange for Nightlight’s life,” Mary said. Bunny looked at Katherine, disbelief making its way through him. Katherine looked down. 

“It was the only way I could help him,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t bear the corpse any longer. I’m sorry.” 

Bunny shook his head, standing up and carrying the boy. 

“We will need to gather everyone together. First, we will need a warmer place.” 

“Katherine, did you happen to see anything?” Shadowbent asked, his fangs in her face, almost teasingly. She winced. 

“Yeah. There’s a cabin we were headed to.” 

Mary and the human witch sent out a message, and the humans watched as he and Mary prepared for the spell. Katherine, less sullen, sat next to the fireplace. 

“I’m sorry about taking Sophie,” she said to one of the women. “I… I’m so sorry.” 

The woman shook her head.

“What’s done is done. Prove you will never do it again and leave us alone.” Katherine nodded. 

Shadowbent wrapped a blanket around the boy. He smiled softly at Mary. 

Bunny looked down at his hands, watching as plants grew around him. New life. Flowers cracked open the wooden floors of the abandoned cabin they were in. 

“You might want to tie him down,” he said. Mary looked up, alarmed. 

“Will it hurt him?” Bunny nodded.

The man whistled. 

“That’s our cue to get the kids out of here, right?” The humans went upstairs. 

Tooth was the first to show up, flying around the boy. Then Sandy and Pitch. North stood outside, his giant eye peeking in, the stars making it seem like the cabin was floating in space.  

“Doesn’t this spell have dire consequences?” Tooth asked. “This will not be good for anyone.”

“If we contain it, then nothing will happen.” 

They circled the table where the boy lay. They pushed it towards the window so that North could join in. 

They interlocked hands, Tooth, and Sandy reaching outside to hold North’s finger. Katherine watched, quiet hope flaming in her eyes. Mary seemed less enthusiastic, dreading the worst. 

“Let’s do this,” she said. 

The spell was simple for what it was. Just a two-word incantation. The power it drew from was the hard part. Sharing the brunt of the spell made it easier, but it still was painful. 

The body on the table woke up. It was unclear who was occupying it, as the only thing that the spell did was send pain into the boy’s mind. The screaming started after a few minutes. The fighting against the bounds started after five.  

Bunny watched as Mary grimaced, grief seeping into everyone else. Katherine hovered around them, a worried look on her face. 

One of them will not be happy with the result. Only one soul would survive. 

Mary closed her eyes, trying to focus on the spell. 

Suddenly, the cabin was gone. They floated, still together. The boy hadn’t stopped his visceral screams. Bunny looked around, dread looming in his stomach. 

They didn’t contain it. They couldn’t stop it. The spell was out of control. 

They pushed forward, repeating the incantation. 

Then they were back in the cabin. The boy stopped screaming, instead lying limp on the table and panting. 

Bunny approached him. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. The boy looked up at him, eyes full of tears. 

“Jack,” he cried. “My name is Jack. Please help me.” 

Mary rushed over, nearly knocking Bunny over. 

“Jack!” 

Katherine stared at them for a moment before walking out of the cabin. 

“We let him out.” 

Bunny turned to Tooth. Pitch scoffed. 

“All that and he returns to be a human.” Sandy elbowed his partner. 

“There’s no going back,” North said from the window. “We cannot stop what will happen.” 

“Maybe they will.” Sandy nodded to the stairs, where the humans peeked at them. 

“They’re the ones who started this mess. It only seems right they end it.” 

They left, leaving as quickly as they came. The boy was of no interest to them anymore. 

Bunny watched as Mary helped Jack up, turning to the humans. 

“This is Jack. He’s my brother.” Jack looked at them. 

“I know you,” he said. “You… you helped me. I think.” He pulled the blanket around him. 

New life. New chances. 

Bunny nodded, seeing his work complete. He tapped on the floor, dropping into a tunnel and leaving them. 

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 12

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 ao3 link

CW: Smut/NSFW

*Steve*

“What about Billy?” Steve asked once everyone took a seat on the cabin’s front porch. 

It had taken a few minutes to calm Chrissy down and convince her that they didn't blame her for the trouble Jason had caused. Eddie kept assuring her that it was all okay, and of course she wasn’t responsible for anything her douchebag of an ex said or did, but it wasn't until Robin stepped in and pulled the other girl into a hug that she stopped crying. 

Even now the two of them were sat together cross-legged on the porch floor, knees brushing, holding hands. Steve would have liked to do the same with Eddie, knowing they could both use a little comfort and reassurance too, but that sort of casual intimacy just wasn’t done between male friends, and while Wayne knew about them, no one else did yet. So he held himself back from reaching out while other eyes were on them.

He and Eddie really needed to have a conversation about that at some point.  Preferably sooner than later.

Steve resolved to bring it up the next time they were alone. He was itching to tell Eleven about them. Robin too. His friendship with her might be brand new but if their barely coded conversation in the car was any indication, he was sure that she would not only be cool about it, but happy for them. 

Hell, if he was totally honest he wanted everyone to know, would shout it from the rooftops if he could. He knew It was a crazy thing to think, but everything else that was happening aside? He had never been so happy. Eddie made him happy, and he wanted the world, or at least their little pocket of it, to know. He could only hope his new boyfriend felt the same.

“I think Carver was hoping he would press charges,” Hopper began. “But Hargrove refused to corroborate the story. I don’t know what you boys said, but you must have scared the shit out of him. He wouldn’t answer any questions, just kept repeating that he’d been home all night and didn’t know what Jason was talking about.”

Steve choked back a laugh and fought not to look at Wayne, who was sharing a pleased grin with his cup of coffee, and he was pretty sure Eddie was doing the same. They both knew it wasn’t due to their efforts that Billy had kept his mouth shut. 

“Then these two showed up raising hell at the police station ready to defend you-” The chief continued, pointing at Eddie. “-to the death and give statements that Jason was making it all up.”

“What did you expect us to do?!” Robin yelled. 

“The whole school was talking about it! We had to take action.” Chrissy added.

Hopper groaned, raking a hand over his face. Steve felt for the man, truly. He had to be exhausted. “Not that it even matters if Carver keeps up his crusade, but statements equal paper trail and I don’t think I have to remind you that this evil wizard or whatever the fuck he is isn’t the only enemy we have.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the girls a bit sheepishly, but the chief was right. Fire or not, the lab and whatever shadowy sector of the government was in charge of it, was as looming a threat as Vecna.

“Ah shit, the whole school? Do the kids know what’s going on?” Eddie asked, shooting Steve a worried glance. 

“You’re all kids.” Hopper muttered, mostly to himself, and sighed. “Claudia knows about this place, and I called her too when I realized how bad this could get. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all- “

As if on cue, Hopper's sentence was interrupted by the sound of leaves crunching under the wheels of a car, as a station wagon pulled in to park beside his SUV.

“-Showed up here at some point.”

Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike all clambered out of the car the second it stopped moving. Each one with a backpack over their shoulder and a sleeping bag tucked under their arm. They rushed through the trees, pushing and shoving each other as if in a race to be first to reach the house. 

Lucas won, an unsurprising turn of events considering he was the only one of them who played a sport, and threw himself down next to Max and El who were giggling at the whole display. 

Dustin was a close second, hitting the bottom step just behind his friend. What he lacked in physical fitness he made up for in passion. He and the other two younger boys took up posts against the railing across from Eddie and Steve. 

“What’s with the sleeping bags?” Eddie asked, though the answer was obvious.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Look I know you're on the lam now and everything, but it’s literally been less than 12 hours and you’ve already lost track of the days? It’s Friday!”

“So?”

“So, we’re sleeping over! We have the whole weekend to come up with a plan to defeat Vecna and discredit Jason Carver so you can come home.” Dustin declared.

Eddie stilled, and Steve felt his own heart drop. He didn’t know how much hope Eddie was clinging to, but based on his reaction he had at least partially come to realize what Steve had known from the second Wayne told them they had to go. 

There was no coming home. They would never be able to set foot in the Munson trailer again. 

Now that Steve knew about Jason giving him away, he was even more sure of that fact. It would take nothing for what remained of Hawins lab to connect Steve and El to Eddie and put the full picture together. They were past the point of no return now. No matter what happened with Vecna, if they survived, Steve, El, Eddie, and even Wayne would probably have to run and hide for the rest of their lives.

Steve couldn’t help reaching out then, smoothing a hand along Eddie’s back. He hoped no one noticed, or that if they did Eddie wouldn't mind. He just couldn’t not offer what little comfort he had to give in that moment. 

There was no reason to burden the kids with those harsh truths though, not yet anyway. There would be time for that later. 

“That sounds great Dustin, thanks. I'm glad you guys are here.” Steve said, saving Eddie from having to respond, and he leaned into Steve’s touch as if to say thanks.

Claudia made her way up about a minute later, hefting a grocery bag brimming with snacks that she dumped into Wayne’s lap on arrival.

“Right.” She said, a little out of breath. “They’re your problem now, Wayne. I’ll be back to help out in the morning.”

Eddie’s uncle took it in stride. He was probably used to hosting the group of teenagers, at least occasionally. 

“Where are you going? Do you think it’s a good idea for you to be home alone right now?” Hopper asked her.

“Oh, I'll be fine Jim.” She said, waving him off. “I'm certainly not spending the night here. Also there's some sort of emergency meeting at the school tonight for the parents. Considering that it’s almost certainly about our boys, I think it’s best if I attend so we can see what people are saying about all this.”

Hopper huffed. “I didn’t hear anything on the radio about a meeting.”

“Be hard to when it's not on you.” She said, nodding down to the spot where it should have been attached to him. 

“Shit.” He said, patting himself down. “I better get back before this whole thing spirals even further out of control.”

The chief jumped up out of his chair ready to take off but Steve was right there, getting up from his own spot to grab the man’s arm.

“Wait! What about the fire?” Steve asked. He couldn't let it go. He’d been patient so far because they had more pressing concerns, but he needed to know.

“Honestly, kid, it’s probably not what you want to hear but there's not much to tell. There was no one standing around outside according to the first responders on the scene. The place was mostly deserted before the fire started, apart from a few cars in the parking lot. The building’s a charred mess. They had a hard time putting the flames out, blamed it on whatever chemicals that must have been in the labs acting as accelerants. No one’s been allowed to search inside yet for potential survivors or victims. At first because the fire department deemed it unsafe, then come morning a government agency, whose name I was informed is classified, showed up and said they’d be taking it from there.” Hopper shook his head. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground for any sign of your Doctor Owens, but if he was in there… “

“He’s probably dead.” Steve finished the sentence for him. 

“I’m sorry, Steve.’ He said, and it sounded like he meant it. “I’ll go check in at the station and then come back so we can figure out our next move.”

“Have you slept, Jim?” Wayne asked.

“It’s overrated.”

“Go home. Check on Joyce, get some rest, and come back in the morning.” Wayne said, and surprisingly, Hopper agreed.

He and Claudia said their goodbyes and left. The woman offered to give Robin and Chrissy a ride home but the two girls had decided to join in on the massive sleepover. 

“The more the merrier I guess.” Wayne said gruffly, but it was clear that he didn't actually mind. 

It had grown dark and a little chilly out as they talked so everyone piled inside and the negotiations for later sleeping arrangements began. Wayne split off to the kitchen, and Eddie, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since the boys arrived, quickly joined the fray, letting the kids know in no uncertain terms that the couch was Wayne’s and both beds were spoken for. Really they were just battling over floor space at that point.

It was loud and chaotic, and Steve took the opportunity to slip away from the group and retreat to the comparative quiet of his and Eddie's room, pressing fingers to his temples to try and relieve the pressure that had been building behind his eyes all day. He should have known a certain someone would notice his absence right away. 

“You okay?” Eddie asked, opening the door just enough to stick his head inside.

“Yeah, just a headache.” He replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I saw a pretty impressive first aid kit in the bathroom. I bet there’s some sort of pain killers in there. I’ll be right back.” Eddie said, ducking out only to return a minute later with a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. He shut the door behind him and shook a few of the pills out into Steve’s waiting hand.

“Thanks” He said, downing both the medicine and the water in one go. 

“You don’t think… Eddie began hesitantly after a beat of silence, and it took Steve a moment to realize what the other boy was getting at. 

“Oh! No, definitely not.” He said, shaking his head. He pulled Eddie down by the hand to sit beside him. “This is normal, for me at least. I get headaches all the time. It’s nothing. Besides, doesn’t Vecna usually go after people that are like- ” He paused, trying to think of the right way to say it. “Sad and depressed and stuff? People with real problems.”

“Steve, you were held prisoner for two years.”

Eddie had a point. 

The past few years of his life had been mostly miserable save for a few stolen moments of happiness with his chosen sister. Even now that they had escaped, they still weren’t safe. They were being hunted by a legion of evil scientists and a man turned interdimensional monster with an axe to grind against an innocent girl who’d only done what she had to do to defend herself. 

He shrugged it off, smiling despite it all as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck, suddenly realizing they were alone, and he could do that. “Yeah, and now I'm here, and I have my sister, and you.”

Eddie’s hands found his waist like they were always meant to be there. “No need to get cute, Harrington. We’re already dating.”

Steve pouted. “But I'm always cute.”

Eddie laughed quietly. “You can say that again.” He whispered, pulling Steve into a deep lingering kiss. 

-

Steve exited the bedroom about an hour later when Eddie softly knocked to say that everyone was eating dinner. The other boy had convinced him to lay down until his head was feeling better. He was glad for it now, to be able to stand in the middle of things without pain while the teens loudly talked and argued over each other. They seemed to agree that Eddie was their secret weapon, or could be if he could remember what his powers were and learn to tap into them.

“I think I could help you with your memories. If you’d want that.” El said, bringing the conversation to a crashing halt. 

Everyone was quiet, waiting for Eddie to respond, and Steve had a bad feeling.

“I, um… I don’t, uh know if I- ” Eddie stammered.

“It’s not just about the powers either, it could help in a lot of ways!” Dustin chimed in, blissfully unaware of his cousin’s discomfort. “I mean, El remembers Henry from before and you’re older than she is. Maybe you know something she doesn’t. We need some kind of leg up here, and we can’t just assume that this Vecna is exactly the same as the one from the campaign. Who knows if he has the same powers, or less, or more. We’re fumbling in the dark here, and- ow! ” 

Max elbowed him hard in the ribs, effectively cutting him off.

Eddie's head was down, eyes screwed closed and he was breathing too fast. Steve threw a look at Robin, a silent plea to keep everyone busy and away while he helped Eddie through whatever he was feeling. He slid an arm around the other boy’s shoulder, guiding him to the kitchen and sat him down in one of the chairs while he knelt in front of it. 

Steve took both of Eddie’s trembling hands in his, and whispered to him softly. “Come on baby, you gotta breathe nice and slow for me, okay? Can you do that?”

Eddie kept his eyes closed but nodded slightly and tried to control his breathing. Steve ran his thumbs across Eddie's knuckles as they took deep even breaths together. It didn’t take long, just a minute or two and Eddie’s pulse slowed, but he still wouldn’t look up. 

“Eds, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If you decide you want to recover your memories one day, I fully support that, but you should do it for yourself, because you want to. I don’t want to see you forced into it when you’re not ready.”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t know why the idea of remembering scares me so much, but what if Dustin’s right? What if I… “

Steve squeezed his hands. “It's not worth it if this is what it's going to do to you, and there's no guarantee that it would help anyway. We have a little time. The music is working so far, and he hasn’t taken any other victims yet. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie finally looked up to meet his eyes, and smiled softly. “Thank you.”

-

It was decided unanimously that that was the end of strategy discussion for the night, and when Eddie escaped to the bathroom to shower no one stopped him or said anything about what had just happened. 

Steve helped the girls get set up in their room, digging extra blankets out of a closet and arranging them on the floor to make it a little more comfortable. Max and El invited Robin and Chrissy to crash on their floor so they wouldn’t have to deal with the boys. Robin kept trying to catch his eye. He knew she wanted to talk, to ask if he was okay but she accepted the little shake of his head without complaint. 

He tucked El in even though Max was there, and she really was too old for it these days, though she didn’t seem to mind. It almost felt like old times.

By the time he was done Eddie was out of the shower, and he gratefully took his own turn in the bathroom getting clean. When he emerged, Wayne was sound asleep on the couch surrounded by the whispering voices of the younger boys on the floor around him, zipped into their sleeping bags. It was quite a sight, Steve wished he had a camera.

Going to bed together was awkward in a way that it hadn’t been the night before. Maybe because they weren’t as bone tired, or maybe because they had actually established themselves as a couple now and neither of them knew what to expect. 

Whatever the reason, Steve didn't like the tension in the air when he’d come in from his own shower, but he thought he knew how to fix it. 

He made sure the door was shut and locked before crossing the room to stand in front of Eddie. 

They were alone again and Steve took full advantage of it, taking Eddie’s face between his hands and kissing him deeply while he pressed their bodies as close together as their pajamas would allow. Eddie tilted his head, melting into the kiss. He opened for Steve immediately inviting his tongue to lick in and explore. 

Eddie gripped his shoulders and Steve's hands wound their way into hisdamp hair as the kiss turned desperate. Finally he was forced to pull back or risk passing out from lack of oxygen. Eddie whined and tried to follow, but Steve, remembering that there was a gaggle of teenagers in the next room, chuckled and slapped a hand over Eddie's mouth. 

Eddie’s eyes widened and Steve brought his lips close to his ear. “If we’re going to do this we’ll have to be quiet. Do you think you can be quiet for me?”

He felt as well as heard Eddie swallow hard. He was breathing heavily through his nose, eyes dark and pupils blown. He nodded, chest heaving. Steve slowly removed his hand from Eddie's mouth and kept his voice at a whisper. 

“Will you let me take care of you tonight?”

“Yes.” Eddie breathed.

Steve crashed their lips together again as he walked Eddie back towards the bed, sitting him down on the edge of it. Eddie looked up at him questioningly but sucked in a sharp breath as Steve knelt in front of him, realizing what he intended to do. 

Steve looked down at the floor, confidence faltering a bit under the weight of nerves. “I want to… I mean, can I… ” 

He must have looked even more unsure than he felt because Eddie reached down to caress his cheek and tilted his head up to look at him. “Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

It was exactly what he’d said to Eddie earlier in the kitchen, and it made him smile, instantly more relaxed.  

“It’s not that, trust me. I really, really want to do this. I've just never gone down on a guy before and I guess I'm afraid it won’t be good for you.” 

Eddie quirked a brow. “Virgin, remember? I’ve never gotten a blowjob job before and I gotta be honest with you, just the idea of you putting your mouth on me has me about to cum in my pants, so I don't think there's any chance that it won’t be mind blowing.” 

Steve leaned up, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s mouth as he slid his fingers into the other boy’s sweatpants and started to work them down his thighs. Eddie was right, just the idea of what he was about to do had him hard and straining in his own pants, and he had to palm himself when Eddie’s cock finally came free. It was bigger than he expected, a little red and leaking at the tip.

He started slow, darting his tongue out to lick circles around the head before taking just a few inches into his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was gag himself and throw up by accident. No matter what Eddie said, that would be decidedly unsexy. He bobbed his head a little, using his hand to work the remaining length the way he’d had girls do on him before.

“Oh my god.” Eddie moaned, just a little too loud, and threw his own hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds that followed. 

It was all a little intoxicating, to be surrounded by Eddie’s scent, the warmth of his thighs so close to Steve’s cheeks, the weight of him on his tongue, the taste. 

He loved it.

“Close.” Eddie whispered through his fingers before clamping his mouth shut again. 

Steve already knew he wasn’t going to pull off, not a chance. He wanted the full experience, not just for Eddie but for himself. He wanted to know what it felt like to have his boyfriend spill on his tongue.

He tested out hollowing his cheeks and bobbed his head a little faster. Eddie’s breath quickened and his hips jerked, cock pulsing between Steve's lips. His mouth was flooded with warm slightly bitter fluid and he moaned around Eddie’s length as he swallowed reflexively, so incredibly turned on that one touch and he’d be coming too. 

Eddie hauled him up into his lap, kissing him thoroughly, either not caring or not minding that he could taste himself on Steve's mouth. Without breaking the kiss he slid a hand into Steve’s pants, stroked him a few times, and that was all it took to have Steve seeing stars again. 

Once they’d come back down to earth, and Eddie had cleaned him up with one of their bath towels, they snuggled down into bed together under the covers. Steve sighed contentedly, wrapped up in Eddie's arms was quickly becoming his favorite place to be. 

“Do you think we could ever… tell people about us?” He asked softly, face pressed into the crook of Eddie’s neck. 

“Is that something you want?”

Steve nodded, running his hand up Eddie’s arm. “I’d like to be able to tell El, and Robin. If you’d be alright with it.”

“Yeah I think that would be okay.” Eddie said, squeezing him a little tighter. Steve couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m pretty sure Dustin already suspects, and I think I’d like Chrissy to know, if that’s okay.”

Steve sat up a little, beaming. “Yes, of course. Eddie. I… “ He stopped short, afraid he was asking for too much too soon. 

“What?”

“I don't want to push you, if you’re not comfortable, but I don’t want to have to hide. Not here with our friends and family. If you would want to, I’d be okay with everyone knowing.”

“Oh. That's, um- ” Eddie hesitated. 

Steve tried not to look disappointed. “Too much?”

“No, not at all.” Eddie said quickly. “It’s just, that’s a lot of people to come out to all at once, but I think I want that too. I don’t want to have to hide how I feel about you. I want to hold your hand, and sit too close, and have you call me baby and whatever other names you want without feeling like you have to whisper.”

“Yeah?” Steve said, happy tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

“Yeah, fuck it. We’ll tell them all tomorrow.”

“You think everyone will be okay with us?”

“I hope so, and if someone isn’t, then at least we’ll know.”

-

Steve woke with a gasp only a few hours later. Eddie was shaking him and shouting his name with an edge of hysteria to his voice that made it clear that something was very, very wrong. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, taking in the other boy’s wide, panic stricken eyes.

“El’s gone. She’s not in her bed or anywhere else in the cabin.”

Steve tried to remain calm even as his heart began to race at a frantic speed. Maybe she’d just gone outside to get some air, or it could even be something as silly as her being in the bathroom, and they had somehow missed each other along the way. A fairly unlikely scenario given the size of their hideout, but he wasn’t willing to jump to worst case scenarios just yet. 

He slipped out of bed, thankful that he and Eddie had slept in pajamas tonight. It saved him the time of having to find and put on pants in a tired haze. He opened their bedroom door quietly expecting to be faced with a room full of sleeping bodies, but the living area was empty.  

“Wait, where is everyone?” Steve asked.

“They must already be out looking for her. Come on, we should hurry up and join them.” 

Eddie was ahead of him now, holding the front door of the cabin open, waiting for him. 

He felt like he’d missed a step somewhere. 

Steve shook his head, trying to clear the sleep from his mind. He needed to get it together and find his sister.

He nodded to Eddie wordlessly and made a beeline for the door of the cabin. He flew down the steps and into the trees. It was dark out there in the middle of the woods, but he could see several beams of light in the distance from what he assumed were the other’s flashlights. He should have grabbed one himself, he realized, but he wouldn’t have even known where to look for it anyway. The moon was full, so he could at least see a little and it's not as if she would have gone far. 

“Over here!”

He heard Dustin call out to his right and raced toward the sound of the younger boy's voice, trusting that Eddie would be right behind him. He ran as fast as he could but it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, the light of the younger boy’s flashlight was always just out of reach. 

He glanced back to check on Eddie, knowing that his boyfriend wasn’t exactly an athlete, and skidded to a halt when he realized wasn’t there.

Steve turned a circle twice, squinting into the dark, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.

In the process of looking he lost track of Dustin’s light, or any sense of where he was in these god-forsaken woods. He was never going to find Eleven at this rate. Even if he did, he had no idea which direction would take them back to the cabin. 

How had he gotten lost so fast, and what happened to Eddie? He was sure the other boy had been right behind him, he’d heard his footsteps. 

Hadn’t he? 

He needed to find one of the others, and fast. 

“Dustin!” Steve shouted out for the last member of the party he’d seen, or heard anyway. Figuring he’d be the closest by and most likely to hear him. 

“Dustin!” He tried again. 

“Eddie!” He was getting desperate.

“Where did they all go?” He muttered to himself, worried and frustrated. 

“Steve! This way!”

That was definitely Eddie’s voice, he’d know it anywhere. He sounded nearby too.

Steve sped in the direction the sound had come from until a figure with extremely short hair stepped out from behind one of the wide trunks and took off at a sprint.

El, it had to be El. 

He adjusted course and ran after her, screaming her name until he was out of breath. She never turned around or even looked back. Why couldn’t she hear him? She must be terrified. 

Suddenly he burst through the tree line and came face to face with a familiar stretch of chain link fence. It was the exact spot they had escaped through only days ago. He had no idea what would have made El come here of all places, but he wasn’t about to turn back now.

He pushed through the opening in the fence just as the sound of a heavy metal door creaking open reached his ears. He rushed to the exit door, assuming it was the source of the noise and luckily managed to catch it before it fell closed and locked itself. She must have used her powers to open it.

He called El’s name over and over as he searched the building, realizing far too late that something didn’t add up about all this. He’d wandered the familiar halls and even gone down into the lower levels of the lab searching for any trace of her, completely forgetting that there had been a fire here last night. 

Yet there was no damage.

No burnt walls or signs of smoke. Hopper had said the place was a mess, surely it would take weeks if not months of cleaning and repairs to get it looking this good again. Steve's blood ran cold.

It could mean one of two things. Either he had never really woken up and was still in bed dreaming, or this was all an illusion. 

At that realization, the quality of the light around him changed, taking on a sinister red hue, while the air that he was pulling into his lungs became thick and stale.

There was only one person, if you could call him that, that he knew of with the ability to create such convincing visions. The type of thing that could perhaps lure someone out of bed, trick them into leaving the safety of their friends and loved ones, and end up in the last place they’d ever want to go alone. 

Vecna.

The crisp white walls of Hawkins lab fell away, leaving Steve in a place he did not recognize but had quite recently read an awful lot about. Particles fell from the sky like volcanic ash and crimson lightning flashed in the distance. Thick vines criss-crossed over the ground around him, seeming to come from everywhere at once. He had never seen the Upside Down with his own eyes before but he knew without a doubt that somehow that was exactly where he was.

Before he could get his bearings and figure out where in the alternate Hawkins he was, several of the vines came to life at once. Two of them wrapped around his ankles, pushing him off balance and sending him sprawling to the ground. Another set gripped him at his wrists, tugging them to either side, and a final tendril snaked its way firmly around his neck, pinning him to the dirt. 

He thrashed and struggled to no avail as the hold on his throat became tighter and tighter. A shadow fell over him as his vision began to dim, and a pair of disfigured legs with the appearance of raw meat came walking into view. Steve’s gaze rose up the figure above him and he took in the disgusting sight in the distant way of someone who was about to lose consciousness. He was even uglier in person than Eddie's description painted him.

Vecna crouched, scratching over his face with a single long claw.

“Hello, Steven.”

Chapter 13

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @newtstabber @goodolefashionedloverboi @adaed5 @buckleybarnes @soaringornithopter @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @bestwifehaver @5ammi90 @sofadofax @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @hardboiledleggs @mentallyundone @epiclazershark @herebedragons404 @estrellami-1 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @the-s-is-silent @brbsoulnomming @goinsteddie @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @thestarslittleking

[freddie-77-ao3]

Help me choose a fic to work on:

(summaries below poll)

Gorgeous Girl, Goddess Girl, (Good Isn't All You Have Been)

Silena raises her head high as she dons Clarisse's armor. One way or another, it ends today.

She places the note on Drew's pillow, and then Clarisse's.

She steps in the chariot.

She dies.

~~~

Silena dies. These are her actions leading up to it.

___________________

Everything Is In Past Tense Now (You're All Gone)

("And Silena, she makes chocolates with her dad right before the start of summer, and she'll bring them in and they always taste awful 'cause she never makes them any other time, but everyone eats them, 'cause it's Silena. You'll love 'em though, 'cause Cecil always makes ice cream to go with the chocolate, and Malcolm and Beck'll make some baked goods." Chris sees Drew leave the room, Nyssa wipe away a tear, and Clarisse balling her hands into fists and whispering 'hero, hero, hero, she was a hero,' and he realizes his slip up.

Slip ups at camp fires where people don't quite seem dead. (Denial is much stronger than reality when we want it to be)

___________________

This Ship Can't Sink Until It Sails [Tales From The Argo II]

1-3: Piper & Percy prank Leo. Leo tries to rope in Jason & Frank, who can't prank. Meanwhile, Hazel & Annabeth have plans of their own.

4: Annabeth & Jason bond over Thalia, and telling stories about their time at the camps, and architecture after Kym.

5-6: HOH rescue. 7+Reyna/Nico play truth or dare & monopoly. Percy & Nico have just enough time to take Hazel&Jason out for burgers.

7: Jason & Nico talk more after Eros. Hazel & Piper bond.

8: The seven manage to get sick, and Hazel is introduced to Disney movies.

9/10: Coach Hedge & Percy have a bonding moment, & Percy IM's people at camp.

11-12: Coach Hedge's POV on each of the 7. Reyna&Nico&Hedge in Alberta and why it will NEVER be mentioned.

13: the aftermath of the ending of MOA.

14: The last day, the 7 play uno and write goodbye notes. Leo's funeral.

___________________

The Gods Watch From Their Heavens And Judge Us (But Their Sins Outnumber Ours)

Annabeth and Jason and Luke. Those are all the people that Thalia has cared about in her twelve short years. Jason is dead. Annabeth is screaming. Luke is sobbing.

Thalia has failed them all. 

Thalia's reflection on her life as she dies.

___________________

Before And After (Though We Often Wish It Hadn't)

There have been hundreds of events in her life that have a before and after. There was the before she ran away, and the after of Camp Half Blood. There was the before she met will, and the after: when she would do anything to protect him. Clarisse has had hundreds of befores and afters, but nothing quite like this. 

She didn’t think that there was an after to watching her siblings get consumed by the earth, screaming, while another watched. 

She doesn’t know how to cope with that after: a quieter cabin, unfinished bottles of hair solution, and unmade beds.

___________________

Where Our Lines Blur (Hold My Hand)

Connor Stoll likes Malcolm Pace. Malcolm Pace likes Connor Stoll. Seems simple, right? Even more so when they go out to eat together, alone, once a week? But no, it isn't, and Annabeth is going to lose her damn mind if this keeps up. Travis too.

So they drive the two out of camp until they confess, which leads to a day of disasters and disregarded laws including car theft and shoplifting, not to mention the fact that neither of them know how to drive or are of age for a license. 

And then they manage to go on a two person raid of a camp with 40 demigods in it, the two are forced to swear something on the River Styx, and it somehow isn't even the worst part of the day?

Travis and Annabeth aren't impressed.

___________________

Come Down The Floods (And Bathe In The Blood Of Gods)

Connor Stoll's morning starts like this: it's three twenty in the morning, and there is a ghost next to them. Drew is already up. There is a storm giant in battle against the gods, and they are in a war against Kronos. It is five days before the biggest battle of Connor's life, and in forty minutes, they'll be dancing on the table with their friends. 

ALT: Connor's perspective of the mission to blow up the Princess Andromeda, the day of Beckendorf's funeral, the three days of the Battle of Manhattan, and the funerals that come afterwards.

___________________

Hateful Heroes (Burdened With Bitterness)

(I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU-)

War. War and Death and Tragedy galore. Clarisse isn't mourning properly. Percy isn't either really, and it's of no surprise. (What teenagers are meant to mourn for the people who make up their entire world?) Clarisse starts a fist fight by the dying embers of Hestia's fire and Silena's shroud- but it won't bring her back. Percy stays awake at night watching blood arise from his skin- no amount of it is going to make up for the lives lost.

And then they break. It's not a surprise, but for Hestia who sits by the hearth as they scream? Her heart breaks.

(THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD DIED- DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? I WISH I HAD!- I WISH YOU HAD TOO! MAYBE SILENA WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!)

___________________

Tell Me I Can Live My Life (Don't Tell Me How To Live It)

The moment that Silena decides to become a spy for Kronos is the day that Drew breaks down in tears over her sexuality.

Drew wants to join the Hunters of Artemis, Aphrodite has a rule against that, and Mitchell tells horror stories about the rule.

___________________

So We Scream At The World (How Dare It Be Bright In Light Of Our Loss)

Will Solace is thirteen years old and ready to die. He's seen other people die, lots of them, and thinks that some of them didn't look like they were in pain, so really, how bad could it be? He's exhausted.

He is thirteen, and in charge of the infirmary. Usually it would be left to older kids, but he is the oldest. He's thirteen, and in charge of his siblings. Of making sure they don't die. He is not a leader, but he has been at camp the longest.

He just wants to sleep and never wake up. His family (because that is what they are, what they have become in this war) doesn't want to let him. (They want him to sleep, but they also want him to wake up.)

___________________

When All Your Fucking Dreams Are Dead

The Olympian dream is dead. Demigods pile up in bodies, and learn to fight monsters before they learn how to do addition- if they ever do learn either of those things, that is. Funny, right? They’re myths, they’re fairytales, it’s not like any parents would ever let their six year old fight monsters and take care of a toddler to survive, no, why the fuck would you think that? Fucking Olympian dream, folks. And hahaha, it’s all too funny, then you get to camp, you have no money, don’t even get your own clothes- no. Far to expensive when there’s two hundred children waiting for some food, and some bedding, and gods if someone else could just get a bed to sleep on, or even a place that wasn’t the floor- 

Has anyone considered that might have stopped the fucking war?

Or: time travel escapades lead Luke Castellan to be a little less bitter, and things- things go better- somewhat. 

Drew Tanaka, Connor Stoll, and Malcolm Pace travel back in time to just after Luke Castellan returns from his quest– Alone. 

___________________

Rewind, Rewind (I Remember That Night)

Characters reading the books fanfiction, will hopefully span from the start of PJO to the end of TOA. Minor character discrepancy.

"There's something worse coming. Isn't there? That's why we're here. Because something worse is going to happen-- again? You're doing this to us again? Three times. Three times we've fought for you-- when is it enough?" The figure still encloaked in shadows bitterly called towards the ceiling.

At once, like the hissing of snakes, like every sound in the world at once, the three fates rasped out, "Do not lecture us, child of the gods, of Athena and Hecate, this is the ONLY thing left..."

The figure did not recoil, and stood firm, "What is it this time? It was Kronos, then Gaea, then the emperors and Python... What's next? Ouranos? Khaos? What can't we recover from?" Behind him, the other campers whispered in shock and horror, but the boy didn't stop glaring at them.

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Part 28

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27

I am still not done with this story. All was written during Nanowrimo and is therefore not edited. I feel like Upton Sinclair just writing writing and writing non-stop. Not all of this is good, but I hope you all can find it a bit entertaining. ;)

The next morning when you wake up you find yourself still laying in Buggys bed, to cover your naked body you are comfortably tucked into his sheet, feeling warm and well rested. Buggy himself is not in the cabin, he probably had to get up earlier and didn't want to wake you up. You stretch and look outside the window, it looks like a beautiful morning, you can hear the seagulls over the open sea, the sun is lightening up your face and your arms resting on his pillow. How would you have loved to wake up next to him, but then you probably wouldn't have let him go for the rest of the day, being totally infatuated with him, wanting to be with him the whole time. Why did you had to fall for the captain? The time you both were able to spend together was probably limited to nights like last night. 

You sigh, do not want to get up, but also do not want to make the crew suspicious. 

You push the sheets away, grabbing your clothes from the floor and dress to leave the cabin. Buggy had no intentions to fold your clothes, but you wanted to show him that you cared and you made his bed, putting the pillow and the blanket into order. 

As you now carefully open the door, peek out before leaving the cabin. You sincerely hope that no one would see you coming alone from Buggys room. 

“Y/n!”, you hear a cheerful glee behind you, knowing immediately it was Mohji. 

“Dammit!”, you whisper to yourself before turning around and trying to smile at him as good as you can in this embarrassing moment for you. 

“Mohji, good morning!”

“Good morning. Are you searching for the Captain? He is not in his cabin!”

Relieved about this cluelessness you nod: “I realized that. Can you let me know where I can find him?” 

“He went down to the kitchen, since he missed breakfast this morning I assumed he just got something for himself…” 

“Thanks, Mohji!”, you quickly want to escape this slightly embarrassing moment before he can ask any more questions. 

“Wait up, Y/n. You got something there…!” He stops you before you can walk towards the hatch, trying to enter the ship's belly. You are shocked and surprised as he carefully lifts his hand, asking “May I?”, and without waiting for your answer, gently rubbing over your cheek two times. 

He then draws his hand back, you can see red clown makeup on his fingers. “Looked like you smeared something on your face…!”, he cuckles innocently and you are not sure if he realized what this was or not.��

Without saying another word you turn around on your heel, making it quickly to the hatch, holding your face, in surprise and embarrassment. You quickly needed to find a mirror and check if there was not more proof of you and Buggy being intimate last night. “Damn clown.”, you utter to yourself as you climb down the hatch, reaching the hall leading to the kitchen, the bathroom and your own little room. To the bathroom first! you decide and quickly walk towards it without hesitation. Before you reach the little enclosed space the door to the kitchen swings open and Buggy steps out, all dressed with hat and coat, even his make up seems to be freshened up. He is holding a tray with food and immediately stops as he sees you. 

“I was just on the way to you to bring you some late breakfast. You slept so long you missed it…” “So did you, no?”, you smile at him playfully as you inspect the tray. “Can you bring it to my room? I was just about to go to the bathroom..”, you add and he willingly nods. As you enter the bathroom you realize that you had just asked your captain for a favor and he had followed your command without hesitation. Had the tables finally turned after last night? 

As you come back to your room Buggy is not there, but he has left you the breakfast as promised. While you eat you wonder how you got yourself into this situation and how you were able to be so honest with him last night. Even the former Snowland pirates which you stayed with for several months did not know about your past and you always managed to escape eventual marine attacks to hide your identity from the marines and your former fellow crew members. Having a bounty on your head makes you always distrust people. Most of them were just friendly to you to later inform the marines to pick you up and imprison you. You look out of the small window in your cabin while holding on to the piece of bread you were chewing on. Back in the days when the whole incident happened and the whole village was going after you, calling you a murderer and anarchist Luffy was the only one who had believed your innocence and who had stuck with you the whole time. This is why you had always hoped to meet Luffy again one day and join his pirate crew. He was the only one who would have defended your innocence and pride until the end. 

But now this person was Buggy, Luffy's very opponent and a notorious pirate who was actually not someone who cared much about protecting anybody besides himself and his treasures. You had never thought when you left your village that you would one day end up here, not only as his crew mate but also as Buggys lover. 

You sigh as you finish up the breakfast and decide to bring it back by yourself to the kitchen. You felt more safe and protected here than you ever felt before in your life, so maybe you should just get used to the thought of being with the Buggy pirates now. 

As you open the door your gaze sticks again with the beautiful dress which has not been worn once yet. “Your time will come!”, you silently whisper, more to yourself than to the piece of fabric at your door. As you leave your room you immediately realize something is off. The silence in the hallway is suspicious. There are no sounds from pots and pans in the kitchen, there are not the usual sounds coming from the ships deck. You suddenly feel a movement behind you, like a shadow. As you try to quickly turn around you feel a sharp pain on your head, seeming to go through your very bones and you moan in pain before you feel the world falling into darkness in front of you. 

[bookwormscififan]

The Chaos Files, Chapter 15 [END]

Read on AO3!

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

A/N: We finish another vampire AU fic! And for now, that's the end of vampire AU writing I'll be doing for a while, just because tired.

Warnings: Blood.

--

He watched Jameson leave the cabin from his perch in a tree, hood pulled low over his face to hide his features. Green eyes matched the leaves as they followed the vampire’s route, and he barely made a sound as he moved through the trees to pursue him.

He hadn’t seen him in years, he realised, watching the way Jameson walked his path like second nature. He was too high to see his face, but the waistcoat was still the same, mended over and over from the one he’d given him a year after they met.

He adjusted his grip on the branch, ready to leap down and reunite with Jameson, then paused as he remembered how they’d parted, averting his gaze and allowing his hood to cover his eyes. He ran his tongue over his chipped fang, chest suddenly feeling tight, and let out a breath when he realised he’d lost track of Jameson.

Next time, he decided, would be the time to make contact.

----

“I don’t resent you for what you did,” Phantom stated, breaking the silence that had filled the house since he and Jackie returned hours ago. “If it kept you alive, I’d have done the same.”

“But was it the right thing to do?” Jackie asked, pacing the floor in front of the bed as he chewed his thumb anxiously. “Should I have let him grieve Shawn? Should I have let him waste away? What would I have done if I had let him die, leaving me alone in the castle while Chase and Robert travelled?”

“I can’t answer that,” Phantom replied, sitting in the bed and twisting the sheets in his fists. “That’s something you have to decide for yourself. If he had died, though, you wouldn’t have been sent here to find Robert.”

“I can’t even give you a solid reason why I let it go this long,” Jackie mumbled, finally moving to sit beside Phantom on the bed. “I just—days became weeks became years, and to be honest I even forgot I was hiding it. Then everything was going on with me meeting you and him showing up at our house, and suddenly I realised keeping the truth hidden would just hurt him more.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad person,” Phantom assured him, sensing where his thoughts were spiralling. “That makes you a caring friend. It allowed us to meet, and it made you a stronger person.” He wrapped his arms around Jackie, holding him close as he struggled to hold back tears.

“I don’t believe that,” he whispered, leaning against Phantom as tears fell silently down his cheeks, “But I can’t argue it, either. I don’t know if I’m a good person, but I do feel stronger when I’m with you.”

----

“How do you propose we resolve this whole thing with Jameson?” Mare asked quietly, spreading a blanket over the fresh sheets of their bed. “I know you’re thinking about fixing things, and I want to help.”

“We need proof that Shawn died, or that he’s still alive,” Mad replied, sitting at his workbench with his head in his hands, “And we can’t get either of those from here. I can’t leave this cabin, I can’t leave my home. I don’t know how to prove anything.”

“So maybe we let this go then,” Mare suggested, draping himself over Mad’s shoulders and rubbing open hands over his chest. “We’ve done what we can, so maybe it’s time to see how everything will play out.”

“I never managed to hunt down those vampires who had my blood,” Mad mumbled, leaning back against Mare as his eyes drooped closed. “With your brother showing up and everything with Jackie’s family, they ended up on the backburner.”

“So, we’ll go hunt them down, then.” Mare pressed a kiss to the side of Mad’s head, resting their cheeks together when Mad purred softly. “You’ve still got that vial of your blood that you were experimenting with; we’ll find out who got that blood and where they are.”

“It’ll end in a fight.”

“When do these things not end in a fight?” Mare chuckled, helping Mad to stand and walk to bed, gently undressing him before laying beside him on top of the covers. “Besides, I like seeing you covered in blood with that murderous glint in your eyes.”

“You’re still one of the strangest humans I’ve ever met,” Mad joked, nudging Mare when he scoffed. “Even after turning you, you’re stranger than any human I’ve met since. And honestly? It’s something I love about you.”

Mare purred low in his throat, nuzzling against Mad’s neck before pulling away. “We’ll let Jackie and Phantom deal with Jameson’s memories. I want to hunt hybrid vampires with you.”

“Alright,” Mad mumbled, turning around to kiss Mare. “Tomorrow, we’ll go hunting.”

----

He moved through the crowds like a ghost, cloak sweeping his tracks behind him as his hood shadowed the scars across his face. All around him were worshippers, the disgustingly devout heralding him as their leader, and the pit in his stomach only grew deeper as each day passed.

“Did you see them?” One of the followers asked, brave enough to duck to see his face with his eyes sparkling excitedly. “When can we move in for the elder?”

“We won’t be moving in,” he replied, ignoring the shocked silence and multiple glances his way. “We’re cancelling the mission. There are enough of you here to reproduce more; we do not need more of his blood.”

Moving through the clamouring crowds, he left the area to the solitude of his own tent, finally removing his cloak and running his fingers distractedly over the scar on the back of his neck. Pinned to the walls of the tent were sketches from lifetimes past, portraits of men he barely remembered with the majority being drawings of different features he focused on from Jameson’s appearance.

“I’m sorry, James,” he whispered, reaching out for the nearest portrait focusing on his jawline. “Forgive me. I do not know if I can end this madness.”

----

“Jackie, would you mind walking with me?” Jameson asked, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt sleeves without looking at the couple lounging on the couch. “I would like to go home, but I want to talk to you first.”

“Oh, sure, yeah, of course,” Jackie replied, kissing the top of Phantom’s head before getting up, following Jameson to the guest room with his hands in his back pockets. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You are lucky to have found a claim,” Jameson began, folding shirts before shoving them into his small bag. “Hold onto him. Don’t let anything take him away from you. And,” He paused, closing his eyes with a deep breath, “I don’t hate you for keeping the truth from me. Thank you for ensuring I stay alive.”

“You say that like I’ll never see you again.”

“Nobody knows what the future will bring, Jackie. All I know is I’m returning home, and you’ve got a life here. It may well be that we won’t meet again in this lifetime. I am fortunate to have met you when I did.” With a small smile, he closed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and moving to the door. “Walk me out of the forest.”

Jackie nodded silently, giving Phantom a reassuring smile as they left the house, only to stop and raise his nose to the air, smelling smoke and blood nearby. “Something’s wrong.” Signalling for Jameson to stay there, he hurried back inside to get Phantom, tucking a pen knife into his pocket before closing the door.

“Isn’t that where Mad and Mare are?” Phantom asked, voice laced with panic as he watched the smoke rising from Mad’s clearing. Without another word, the trio hurried through the forest toward the smoke, stopping when they arrived at a campsite on fire.

----

Mad snarled as he shoved another hybrid vampire off him, eyes gleaming with bloodlust while smoke billowed around him. His fangs glistened with fresh blood as he surveyed the campsite in search of more victims.

Somewhere off to the side he could hear Mare stabbing others while screams mixed with the crackling of flames consuming tents and bodies alike. Without looking, Mad slit the throat of another groupie, barely flinching as they fell with a thud.

“Mare!” Phantom’s voice caught his attention, looking up to see the twin with Jackie and Jameson entering the area. “Mad! What’s going on?” Jackie was immediately on the alert, standing in front of Phantom protectively.

“More vampires,” Mad growled, throwing a blade and watching it strike a vampire trying to escape in the back. “These are hybrids. Tried to steal my blood before everything happened.”

“We’re killing them off so Mad won’t have to worry about being found,” Mare explained, moving to Mad’s side and kicking another vampire in the face when they got too close. “We weren’t expecting so many of them.”

“I was.”

“Well, you still can’t fight off twenty of them at once,” Mare scoffed, nodding at the newcomers. “Grab any weapon you can find and help out. we could use the extra hands.”

Before Jackie or Jameson could do anything, a cloaked man passed in front of them, slicing through several enemies with a grace that had them blinking. The man possessed an air of authority, separating the followers from Mad and Mare as if they were nothing before turning back to face Jameson and Jackie.

Mad and Mare paused as the other vampires quickly dispersed, fleeing the area and disappearing into the trees. With a grunt, Mad fired off several arrows behind the escaped enemies, then dropped the crossbow and stumbled forward. Mare caught him swiftly, eyes going wide when he noticed the blood trailing down Mad’s side.

“When did you get stabbed?” He asked, tearing his sleeve to cover the wound. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want you… worrying…” Mad panted, collapsing into Mare’s arms as his eyes fluttered. “I’ll be… alright, I’ll feed from you later and heal.”

“Who are you? Why did they seem to obey you?” Jackie demanded of the shadowy figure, arms around Phantom.

“Sorry about that, Jackie,” the man whispered, voice hoarse and with a slight accent as he dropped his weapon to the ground. “They made me their leader, then rebelled when I called off our plans.”

“I know your voice,” Jameson mumbled, stepping forward and reaching out toward the man, who stepped back as if he’d been struck. Hope flooded Jameson’s face, lowering his arm and stepping back before narrowing his eyes at him, “Take off your hood.”

The man hesitated, fingers twitching at his sides before he sighed, shoulders slumping as he nodded slowly. “Just don’t—don’t overreact,” he stated, lifting his hand and removing his hood.

Light brown hair fell over green eyes and freckles, cheeks disrupted by jagged scars matching the one spanning the back of his neck. Pale lips parted in a small smile, revealing a chipped fang Jameson remembered from a lifetime ago.

“Shawn?” He whispered, knees buckling as Jackie gasped.

“Hello again, Jameson.”

-----------------------------------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @rattyboyisemo @dungeon-dragons-dragons

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 26: The Christmas Cabin

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 5429

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 27 28 29 30 31 32

Written in 2022. AU Due to a scheduling mishap, strangers Emma and Killian end up double booked for the same cabin over Christmas in the middle of a blizzard. Obviously there’s only one bed.

CS Genre: AU

By the time Emma pulled up in front of her best friend, Mary Margaret’s cabin two days before Christmas, it was snowing so hard she could barely see three feet in front of her.  The weatherman had predicted a Christmas blizzard, and for once he’d been right.

She parked, grabbed her bag and made her way through the howling wind and pelting snow to the front door.  As Mary Margaret had promised, it was unlocked, and Emma entered to an absolute haven of Christmasy comfort.  A fire was roaring in the hearth, colorful lights twinkled from the Christmas tree, garlands and holly hung from every available surface, and in the corner of the room, the very comfortable looking queen-sized bed was draped with a very festive red and green duvet.

It kind of looked like Christmas had thrown up in here, but it was cozy, and after the ridiculously frozen drive here, cozy sounded pretty damn good.

Normally Emma loved Christmastime, but a big part of that love was due to the excitement her ten-year-old son Henry felt surrounding the holiday.  This year, Henry was spending the holiday with his dad, and Emma had only half-heartedly done the whole Christmas thing.  (What was the point when you’d be spending the holiday alone?) 

When a stakeout went wrong a couple days ago, Emma decided it was the last straw.  She needed to get away.  She needed a break from…well…everything.  Luckily Mary Margaret had offered Emma the use of the cabin she owned with her new husband, David.  (Well, technically, she’d offered to have Emma stay with her and David over Christmas, but it was their first Christmas together, and Emma didn’t want to intrude.)

Emma set her bag on the bed, and had only just stepped into the bathroom when she heard it.  The door opened again, and she distinctly heard the stomping of boots.

She was not alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones had a problem.  He was the best selling author of the immensely popular novel Neverland, which was a rather dark and gritty reimagining of the Peter Pan and Captain Hook story.

The problem?  His editor was breathing down his neck for a new book.  Regina Mills was a good editor (she was not the slightest bit shy about criticism), but she was quite short on patience.  If Killian didn’t produce something to show her soon, she might just show up on his doorstep and start throwing fireballs.

Unfortunately his muse had gone completely silent, and he had no idea where he wanted to go with his sequel.  He’d ended his first book with the rather psychotic Peter Pan finally allowing Captain Hook to leave his island, and Hook leaving to once again pursue his revenge.  What more was there to be told about Neverland?

His readers enjoyed his unique take on the classic story, but they wanted more.  There seemed to be near universal agreement that Hook should transition from morally gray anti-hero to full on hero, and more than a few had suggested the pirate needed a love interest, but Killian had no idea where he might go with either of those suggestions.

At any rate, he had to do something.  He simply had to have at least a few chapters to give to Regina by the new year.

Christmas was always a hard time for Killian.  Had been ever since he’d lost Liam and then Milah nearly a decade ago.  Christmas had been by far his favorite time of year when he’d had a family and loved ones to share it with, but now that he’d lost them, Christmas only reminded him of what he no longer had.

And so when his mate David Nolan had offered the use of his cabin over Christmas, Killian had jumped at the opportunity.  Perhaps alone in the idyllic setting, he could not only weather the heartache of a lonely Christmas, but also get a good start on his newest novel.

The final mile or two to the cabin had been rather treacherous as the snow fell so fast his windshield wipers could barely keep up with it, but fortunately he made it in one piece.  He stepped into the cabin, stomped the snow from his boots…

And promptly found himself face to face with a very formidable blonde woman holding a thick, cast iron pan, poised to pummel him with it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here, but I suggest you turn your ass around and walk out of my cabin.  Now.” Emma growled at the man standing in her friend’s cabin.  

The man eyed her weapon of choice (the only one she could find in the moment), and then grinned at her, unbuttoning his parka and brushing snow from his hair.  “I think you’re mistaken, love,” he said in a delicious accent.  “This happens to be my cabin for the weekend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma asked.  “Listen, bud, I’ve taken down guys a lot bigger and stronger than you, so unless you want me to bash in what few brains you have with this pan, I suggest you change your tune.”

“What tune would you like, Darling?” he asked with a quirk of his brow as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door.  “I’ve been told I’ve a rather appealing voice, and I’m at your disposal for whatever Christmas song you might desire.”

Emma growled, raising the pain higher, and the man seemed to finally decide caution was the better part of valor.  He raised his hands in surrender, and took a step away.  “Look,” he said, “apparently there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, there has,”  Emma said.  “You came to my cabin and refuse to leave.”

The man rolled his eyes.  “This cabin belongs to my mate, David, and he’s offered me use of it for the next week.”

David? This guy got permission from David?

“Yeah, well,” Emma said, “Mary Margaret gave me the use of this cabin for the next week.”

A quick phone call cleared up the situation.

“Emma, I’m so sorry!” Mary Margaret said as soon as Emma explained the situation.  “Turns out  David and I both offered the cabin without talking to each other.  Why don’t you and Killian just share the cabin?  He’s a good guy, and I bet the two of you will hit it off.”

Emma groaned as she finished the call and turned back to the man who remained patiently waiting by the door.  “Yeah, so apparently the Nolans double booked the cabin.  Obviously one of us is going to have to leave.”

The man–Killian, apparently–glanced out the window, and then back at her before shaking his head.  “Love, I don’t think either one of us is going anywhere tonight, and probably not for a few days by the look of this storm.”

Emma crossed her arms and glared at him.  “So what exactly do you propose we do?  I’m not just going to share a cabin–and its only bed–with some guy I don’t even know.”

Killian offered his hand.  “Killian Jones, at your service.  You’ll no doubt know me from my world-class novel, Neverland.”

“Emma Swan,” she said, shaking his hand briefly, “bail bonds person, and sorry.  Haven’t heard of you or your book.”

“Pleasure to meet you Emma Swan,” Killian said, bringing her hand to his lips and briefly kissing it before letting it go.

The touch of his lips to her skin started butterflies dancing in her stomach.  He really was far, far too hot for her own good.  Her reaction annoyed her, and she stepped back, crossing her arms again.  “Look, how about we just…divide the cabin in half.  You get that half over there, and I get this half.  We each stay to our own side of the cabin, and then maybe we can both get through this week without bloodshed.”

“If that’s what you wish,” he said with a grin, “although I’d be careful if I were you.  I’m rather charming, and I’ve a feeling I’ll win you over by the end of our stay.”

She snorted.  “Don’t plan on it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an hour before Emma realized the flaw in her rather ingenious solution.  She had the bed and the kitchen on her side of the cabin…but he had the one and only bathroom on his.  She’d downed a large hot cocoa on her way to the cabin, and her bladder was beginning to protest.

She glanced over at Killian and noticed he was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.  Perhaps she could simply slip into the bathroom without him being any the wiser.

She’d no sooner taken a step across the unofficial dividing line between their respective halves of the cabin, when Killian looked up at her and grinned. “Breaking our accord already, are you love?” he drawled. “That’s quite bad form."

She rolled her eyes.  “Bad form?  Who are you, Captain Hook?”

A delighted look came into his eyes.  “You have read my book!”

“Yeah well,” she said, “maybe I have. Must not have been memorable enough for me to remember earlier.”

He laughed. “Well, if you read my book and you believe I’ve patterned the protagonist after myself, you know I’m rather a stickler for good form.  You insisted on the dividing of our land, so to speak, and you appear about to break our deal.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Look, maybe I didn’t think this thing all the way through.  I have to go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin.  “I believe I spotted an outhouse just behind the cabin.  I’m sure it will suffice for your purposes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to dissolve our deal, love,” he said grinning down at her.  “After all, spending time in the company of a beautiful woman is no chore.  You’re the one who insisted on boundaries, and as a gentleman I’m bound to respect your wishes.  The question is…are you?”

Emma growled.  “Fine!” she said turning toward the cabin door.  “I’ll, use the stupid outhouse, but if I freeze to death out there, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

He stopped her before she could reach the door.  “I’m not such a cad as to make a lady use an outhouse in the middle of a blizzard.  Of course you can use the indoor facilities.”

“How generous of you,” Emma said dryly.  “But just because I’m breaking our ‘accord’ as you so ridiculously call it, don’t think that means I’m open to flirting.”

“Why Swan,” he said, mock innocence plastered all over his admittedly handsome face, “I wouldn’t dream of it.  And as I recall, you’re the only one of us who’s mentioned flirtation.  Could it be the lady doth protest too much?”

Emma was rather proud of herself that she managed to not punch him in the face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the bathroom incident Swan had finally acknowledged the ridiculousness of her insistence upon dividing the cabin.  They'd agreed to dissolve their accord--although Swan was quite insistent they continue keeping to themselves.

Killian turned over yet again, still searching in vain for a comfortable position on this torture device Dave called a sofa.  As Killian promised, he’d been a perfect gentleman last night, and as a gentleman, he’d of course offered to take the sofa so she could have the bed.

In the somewhat dull light of day, his neck was rather regretting that decision.  Could his mate have possibly purchased a more uncomfortable piece of furniture than this couch?

Killian sat up and stretched, groaning at the crick in his neck.  This vacation was turning out to be far more painful than he’d anticipated.  Wandering over to the kitchen area, he found that Dave and Mary Margaret had stocked it quite well.  Whatever else was in store for Emma and him over the next few days, they certainly didn’t need to worry about starving to death.

Killian set about brewing coffee, frying bacon and scrambling eggs.  He’d only just popped some bread in the toaster, when he heard the other inhabitant of the cabin stir, and start moving in his general direction.

“Something smells amazing,” she said, stepping beside him and eying the coffeepot with undisguised longing.  “I’m not exactly the best in the kitchen.”

Killian poured a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to her.  “I’ve made far more than I can eat.  You’re welcome to share my morning meal with me.”

She looked conflicted for a moment, and then nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.”

“No we wouldn’t want that,” he said with a grin.

Breakfast, as it happened, was a surprisingly enjoyable meal.  Killian found he rather liked Emma Swan when she wasn’t yelling at him.  She was positively pleasant after she’d been fed.  Perhaps the holiday spirit–it was Christmas Eve morning after all–had infected her.

Killian was far more intrigued with the woman than he’d like to admit.   This was the first time he’d felt any real pull toward another woman since Milah’s death, and a portion of him felt disloyal to her memory.

But a bigger part of him was so captivated with the woman sitting across from him at the cabin’s only table that he didn’t care.

“So, tell me a little more about yourself,” he said as he reached for another piece of bacon.  “Who exactly are you, Swan?”

She grinned rather teasingly up at him, and the look actually made his heart stutter before it began racing.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked.

“Perhaps I would.”

As breakfast progressed, Killian learned quite a bit about Emma Swan–more, he’d wager, than she’d intended to tell him.  She was the single mother of a sweet, precocious ten year old named Henry.  Things had ended badly, to say the least, with her ex-Neal, who’d not only left her while she was pregnant but set her up to take the fall for his own crime.

The longer she spoke about the son of a bitch, the more Killian wanted to hunt him down and pummel him.  One could not find much worse form than that, nor more stupidity.  What absolute imbecile would leave a woman like Emma Swan?

Neal, as it happened, was the reason for her rather bad mood this year. A year after the relationship had ended, Neal had shown back up, and though Emma had no intention of ever rekindling the relationship, she did want Henry to have the opportunity to get to know his father.  They'd fallen into a reasonably cordial situation as co-parents.  This year it was Neal's turn to have Henry for Christmas.  

Christmas without her lad simply didn’t feel like Christmas at all.

“I don’t grudge him the chance to spend time with his dad,” Emma said as they worked together to clean up the kitchen.  “It’s just.  I miss him, you know?”

He smiled gently down at her.  “Aye,” he said simply, “and you’re perfectly within your rights to miss him.  I regret that I’m not the guy you wished to spend the holidays with, but I’ll attempt to at least not make your week worse.”

She glanced over at him.  “Yeah, well feeding me goes a long way toward that goal.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

After breakfast they lapsed into silence, each retreating to their own chair before the festively decorated tree.  Emma lost herself in a book, while Killian booted up his laptop and tried to begin his novel.

The cursor glared back at him in the midst of a sea of blank, empty Word document.  

“So how’s it going?” Emma asked an hour later.  “Want to give me a preview of what Captain Hook is going to do next?”

“I’d love to,” he said with a wry grin, “if I had even the first bloody clue.  I’m afraid my muse has definitively deserted me.  I haven’t any idea what is next for the good captain.”

She glanced off into the distance for a moment before turning back to him.  “You know,” she said, “it seems to me one of Hook’s biggest regrets in the first book was giving up Baelfire to Pan.  Maybe you could revisit that theme again.  Maybe, I don’t know, Bae grew up after he left Neverland and had a kid of his own.  What if that kid got taken by Pan too?  What if Hook decided to go back to Neverland to save him?”

The ember of an idea lit within him as soon as Swan made her suggestion.  “It has merit,” he said, fanning the flame that had taken hold.  “Perhaps he assists the child’s mother in rescuing her son from the bloody demon.”

“Exactly!” Emma said.  “He could complete his hero transformation, make amends for past mistakes and find love again all at once!”

In his minds eye, Killian saw the dark jungles of Neverland, a rag-tag group of heroes on a rescue mission, Captain Hook slowly and inexorably falling in love with a strong woman with long blonde hair and flashing green eyes.

His fingers danced over the keys as the story began pouring out of him.  It would seem his muse wasn’t gone after all; she’d merely needed Emma Swan to coax her out of hiding.

He must make a note to thank David for the scheduling mistake.  This was shaping up to be one of the best Christmases he’d ever had.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear the next day, sun streaming through the cabin’s windows, snow glittering on the panes like tiny diamonds.

Emma was warm and comfortable and oh so cozy.

Suddenly she realized just why she was so cozy.  An arm was draped over her middle and a warm, solid man held her to him.

How had she and Killian ended up so tangled together?

Last night as bedtime approached, Emma had noticed Killian eying the sofa with clear regret.  That thing couldn’t have been comfortable the night before, and Emma felt no small amount of guilt that she’d been the cause of that discomfort.

It was the guilt that inspired her next suggestion.  That was it.  Guilt and nothing more.  It wasn’t that she found herself genuinely enjoying Killian’s company.  It certainly wasn’t that a big part of her wondered what it would be like to share a bed with him–even in the most innocent sense of the word.

Nope.  That couldn’t be it at all.

“Look, the bed’s plenty big,” she said a bit awkwardly. “‘If you want to, you know, share it with me tonight, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

He glanced up at her in surprise before a teasing glint entered his eyes.  “Why Swan, are you propositioning me?”

Her heart raced far too quickly at the thoughts those words elicited.  There was a distinct possibility she was in significant trouble here.  

“Boundaries, Jones,” she said.  “We’re both adults.  I think we can manage to share a bed and keep our hands to ourselves.”

“Shame,” he said with a rather adorable little pout.

She laughed.

They’d fallen asleep last night with a good two feet of space between them.

Clearly sometime in the middle of the night they’d sought out each other’s warmth.  Emma waited for the fear to seep in at the closeness, but it never came.  She was just so damn cozy.

Oh gods, she’d somehow wandered into a Hallmark movie.

Her stirring must have woken Killian, and a moment later he opened his eyes, and nearly jumped away from her, his cheeks staining bright red.

“My apologies, love,” he said in a soft voice, gravelly from sleep (a voice that did things to her.  Serious things.) “I didn’t mean to take advantage; wasn’t aware I had.”

She smiled, charmed at how flustered he’d become.

“Don’t apologize,” she said.  “You’re warm….and it’s really cold out there today.”

He grinned, and she saw the mischief in his eyes.  “If you’re cold, I’ve no doubt I can think of ways to remedy that.  I’m endlessly resourceful.”

The way his voice lowered to a very suggestive growl on the last phrase made her shiver.  She wasn’t even going to pretend it was due to the cold this time.  “Think I’ll have to take a rain check on that,” she said, far more breathlessly than she’d like, “but it’s still early.  More sleep sounds good.  If you wanted to, you know, go back to the way we were, I wouldn’t object.”

He looked surprised at her suggestion.  She was surprised at her suggestion.  It wasn’t like it meant anything; it wasn’t like they’d ever actually see each other again after they were finally able to leave the cabin.  What would it hurt to take a little innocent comfort in each other while they were here.

What happened in the cabin stayed in the cabin.

“As you wish,” he said, scooting closer to her and once again wrapping his arm around her middle.  It felt so good; so right.  Maybe when she was back to reality it would hit her what a bad idea this was, but for now, she would just enjoy her warm human blanket.  Smiling at the comfort, she drifted back to sleep.

An hour later she woke again, feeling Killian’s even breathing against her back.  Carefully she maneuvered out of the bed, leaving him peacefully sleeping.

Donning her fluffy, warm slippers and an equally fluffy black robe, she padded over to the kitchen area.  If she knew Mary Margaret, she’d have stocked the kitchen with everything a vacationer could want.  Opening the first cabinet she smiled.  Boxed pancake mix.  Bingo.

As previously acknowledged, culinary skills Emma did not have, but anyone could manage a “just add water” mix, and in no time she’d poured her first pancakes into the skillet. 

Emma heard rustling, and a moment later, she felt Killian step up behind her.  “Something smells delicious,” he growled.

She shuddered, the sound of his low voice making her stomach swoop.  “It’s just from a box,” she said, her voice far from steady.

He stepped even closer, until she could feel his warmth against her back.  “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes.”

Emma nearly groaned, and no small part of her wanted to just turn around, say “to hell with the pancakes” and kiss him senseless, but fortunately she hadn’t lost her mind completely. Yet.

“Behave yourself,” she said again, grinning at his antics in spite of herself.  “Go make yourself useful and start the coffee,” she said, waving her spatula in the general direction of the device in question.

He let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to do as she asked.

Dramatic idiot.

Breakfast turned out quite well if she did say so herself.  The pancakes were warm and fluffy, and slathered in butter and syrup, were everything she could have wished for.

“I must say, Swan,” Killian said, sometime later, setting down his fork and dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, “for someone who claims to be hopeless in the kitchen, you provided a rather delectable breakfast.

Emma felt her heart squeeze, and she glanced aside.  “Yeah, well, it’s always been our tradition that I make Henry anything he wants for Christmas morning.  Nine times out of ten, that’s pancakes.  Making them now…well it just makes it feel a little more like he’s with me.”

A moment later, she felt his hand cover hers.  She turned to meet warm, sympathetic eyes.  “I’m sorry you can’t be with your lad for Christmas morning.  I know how hard that must be.”

She shrugged.  “Neal may be a bastard, but it’s clear he loves our kid and he’s doing everything he can to be a good dad.  I’d be a pretty crap mom to complain about my kid getting a chance to have a real relationship with his father.”

“Perhaps,” Killian said, “but it’s only human to miss him on such a special day.”

She didn’t respond to that.  What, after all, was there to say?  It was what it was.

“We’ve had breakfast,” Killian said a moment later.  “Were you with your boy, what else might Christmas Day entail?”

“Well, presents, obviously,” Emma said, “and then assuming we had snow, we’d probably go out and make a snowman.  Maybe come in for some cocoa and Christmas movies.”

Killian got to his feet, gathering up both his plate and hers.  “Very well,” he said, “As you so generously prepared the meal, I’ll clean up.  In the meantime, go on and get ready.”

“Get ready for what?”

Killian gestured to the window.  “By my calculation, we got a good foot of snow yesterday.  More than enough to make a most impressive snowman.”

Emma laughed.  “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” he shrugged, before turning serious. “Swan, you deserve a happy Christmas, even if it can’t be with your lad.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Impressive,” Emma said, taking a step back to survey their masterpiece. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

Killian looked over at her, noticed the way the joy sparkled in her eyes and the cold made her cheeks rosy.  She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.  “Magnificent”, he breathed.

She turned toward him, and if possible, the color on her cheeks deepened at his admiration.  Quickly, she turned back toward the large snowman they’d spent the balance of the morning constructing.  “He needs something though.  He looks cold, doesn’t he?”

Killian grinned. “Cold is rather a requirement of a creature made of snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “You know what I mean.  He needs a hat or a scarf or something.”

Killian unwound the simple black scarf from around his neck and drew in a deep breath at the chill suddenly surrounding him.  “Better?” he asked after he’d properly clothed the snowman.

“Better for Frosty,” she said, giving Killian an assessing look, “but you’ve got to be freezing.”

“Offering to warm me up, darling?” he asked with an exaggerated wag of his brows.

Emma laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully.  “You really need some new material.  You’ve used the same innuendo on me like three times this weekend.”

“Why Swan,” he said with a feigned look of innocence, “What a dirty mind you’ve got.  I simply meant to inquire after the hot cocoa you promised would follow our morning in the snow.”

Killian thought he could listen to the delightful sound of her laughter for the rest of his life.  

As they trudged back into the inviting warmth of the cabin and set to work on the aforementioned cocoa, what he’d just thought hit him.  He genuinely enjoyed Emma Swan’s company, and he’d like to have it for longer than simply a snowed-in weekend.

Was there any possibility that she’d be agreeable should he one day ask to court her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, as the shadows began to lengthen and the sunset painted the sky in lovely shades of pink and purple, Emma sat cross-legged in front of the entertainment center, rifling through the DVDs the Nolans had stocked the cabin with.  It seemed they had every Christmas movie ever made.

After some debate, it was decided that Emma and Killian would watch “A Christmas Story” as an end to a surprisingly enjoyable Christmas day.  After making their snowman and drinking their cocoa, they’d made Christmas cookies, and then Emma had settled in with a good book while Killian typed away at his latest novel, the muse finally deciding to cooperate, it seemed.

The truth was that Killian was surprisingly good company.  He had a wit and charm that was truly genuine once he dropped the endless flirting and innuendo (that Emma was coming to realize was as much his armor as anything else.  You can keep people at bay when they dismiss you as a player.)  The conversation today had been easy, effortless, and congenial.

Emma found that despite her initial impression of him, she actually liked Killian Jones, and she would be disappointed when this weekend was over and they had to go their separate ways.

Maybe….maybe the end of the weekend didn’t have to be the end of their new friendship (or whatever it might develop into).

That night, after the movie, there was no discussion about sleeping arrangements.  They simply climbed into the bed together, Killian gathering her toward him with an arm around her middle.  The fact that she loved the way this felt was something she’d need to examine more closely at some point, but for this night, she was just so comfortable she drifted immediately into a happy, peaceful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian’s cell phone buzzed first thing the next morning, and he rolled reluctantly away from the woman in his arms to grab the device and peer at the caller ID.

Dave

“Killian,” David started as soon as he’d answered sleepily.  “Again, I’m sorry about the mix up.  I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, mate,” Killian said.  “I’ve found Swan to be rather enjoyable company.”

There was silence for a moment, and Killian could nearly feel the suspicion bleeding off of his friend.  “I certainly hope you’re not having too enjoyable of a time.  She’s not one of your conquests, Killian.”

Killian rolled his eyes.  He knew David Nolan was protective of his wife’s best friend; viewed her almost as the sister he never had.  “Relax, Dave.  I’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

“Good,” David said, “Keep it that way.”

Killian rolled his eyes again.

“Anyway,” David continued, “I’m just calling to let you know that the plows have been through and your path should be clear whenever you want to leave.  Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too.” Killian said in lieu of a farewell.

“David call with good news?” Emma asked sleepily as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows.

“The best,” he said, though a part of him felt a pang of regret that the happy bubble they’d been forced into was about to burst.  “The roads are clear.  We can leave whenever we wish.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing aside and looking (dare he hope) a mite disappointed.  “Yeah, that’s good.  I…I guess I should gather up my stuff and hit the road.  I’ve got a few things I need to do before Henry gets home the day after tomorrow.”

“Aye, I suppose it’s for the best,” Killian agreed, though a large part of him wanted nothing more than to object.

Over the course of the next half hour they worked in silence gathering their things and preparing to depart.  When all was put to rights and there was nothing left to do, Killian stopped Emma from turning toward the door with a hand to her arm.

“Before we leave, I have a Christmas gift for you, love.”

She looked surprised at the sheets of paper he handed her.

“It isn’t much,” he said, “but in between working on my novel I wrote a bit of a short story for you.”

She murmured her thanks, and immediately began reading.  Not a paragraph in, a delighted smile covered her face, and she met his eyes.  “It’s our story!  The story of this weekend.”

“Aye,” he answered, smiling back at her warmly.  “Go on.  Read it.”

She nodded in agreement, settling in on the sofa and pulling her feet up beneath her.  She read steadily for a quarter of an hour, and when she reached the final page, she frowned, turned it over, and then looked up at him, confusion in her eyes.

“Killian, it’s not finished,” she said.  “How does it end?”

Killian took a deep breath.  Now was the moment of truth.  Now was the moment this Christmas either became one of the best of his life…or one of the most disappointing.

“That’s rather up to you, Swan,” he said.  “I was hoping it would end with you giving me your phone number and agreeing to a date in the very near future.”

Her eyes rounded, and Killian had a moment of anxiety as he waited for her answer.

She didn’t answer with words.  She answered by scooting closer to him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him down to her for a long and rather thorough kiss.

As it happened, that was all the answer he needed.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[animasolaoriginal]

I n n o c e n c e L o s t 🟪 7

Ben is conflicted: he can't deny the tension between himself and Nebbia, but he also can't ignore a tiny detail hiding on her face that may just ruin everything.

lonely cowboy/outlaw ✖️ prostitute who's so much more than that

Chapter 1▫️2▫️3▫️4▫️5▫️6▫️7▫️8▫️9▫️10▫️11▫️12▫️13 ...

GENERAL TAGS: NSFW! Explicit! Size difference, age gap, slow burn romance. Cowboys, outlaws, prostitutes. Historical inaccuracy. Horses, guns, violence.

WORDS: 4.2k 🟪 READ ON AO3

Chapter 6 🟪 Chapter 8

Chapter 7: The Dimple

What now? he wonders, as he leans against the wall next to the door, his eyes wandering along the trees surrounding the cabin. Nebbia's tucked into the blanket, sleeping soundly. Thunder stands quietly in the night, occasionally huffing a deep breath. And Ben is caught in his own mind, unable to find peace.

He hasn't really planned this through, like so many things in his life so far. The last unplanned thing (“I'm gonna take you with me!”) has brought him right here, on the run from the people he stole this girl from. Damn Daniels. He's had run-ins with that family too many times to count at this point, and every time he slipped out of their grip, he thought it'd be the last time.

They are far more spread than he has thought. Owning the same fucking brothel he's decided to frequent after his own gang's successful stage coach heist. He's been so stupid. He should have known their influence would surpass state lines.

But would he have left Nebbia there if he'd known it beforehand? No. Definitely not. Whatever the circumstances, they would have always ended up here, or at least together, in safety, more or less. He's still stupid, running off with her like this. Without telling anyone. He's been with those people for a long time, especially Mitch and Ginny, and to leave, without a warning, is without a doubt a good addition to his list of Reasons Why He's Stupid.

He hopes they're all okay, that the Daniels didn't ambush them after all. Sending two scouts to their camp was a bold move, and seeing Joe sleeping by the gate when he should have been keeping watch was just another little itch he just can't scratch. A strange coincidence.

There have been a lot of strange coincidences actually, in these last two nights. From finding her in that room, from convincing her to come with him (and her actually coming along without any hesitation), from finding out who he's taken her from, to breaking Bill's nose on a whim (now it feels like it, in the moment it was all justified), to leaving Nebbia alone for five minutes... He's sure by now that it was Bill who assaulted her, getting his revenge, trying to at least.

He still wonders what he should do to that bastard. There are too many ideas in his head, one more gruesome than the next. But he can't focus on that now. They've left the camp, and he has no idea when they'll return, if they'll return. But where else should they go?

Sighing deeply he pushes off the wall and walks back into the cabin, trying to be quiet as he approaches the girl curled up under the blanket. Her long hair has fallen over her face again, and she's so small, just a ball of limbs, and he's still amazed how that can be a comfortable position to sleep. Slowly he kneels down beside her, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of silky soft hair behind her ear. She stirs slightly, but doesn't wake.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back on his knees, watching her.

There's still one very loud thought inside his head, one that's even overpowering the urges to grab her and kiss her and do other deranged things to her. One that scares him the most. That fucking dimple.

Without looking away from her sleeping form, he fingers the Wanted poster out of his chest pocket, slowly unfolds it, before he looks down at it in the semi-darkness of the room. Morning is right around the corner, the moon glowing to keep the upper hand, and there's enough light for him to see the face looking up at him from the crinkled paper.

Keira.

That he would find her daughter, the spitting image of her, in a brothel of all places, is like a stab in the back. He would never have thought that Keira, his first love, his partner in crime, would be capable of doing that, leaving her there, to her own devices, to a life full of degradation. Was she forced to leave? Bribed away? Blackmailed away? But why did she never come back to get her?

He would have tried anything to get her back if she'd been his daughter. The thought makes him pause. His daughter. The words have a strange ring to them. They crawl right beneath his skin, letting goosebumps ripple along his spine, like ants running up and down his limbs. She can't be, right? It's been longer than eighteen years (and nine months) since he last saw Keira, right? It has to be!

She left him in that cell and vanished. Never to be seen again. Did she really end up working in a brothel, got knocked up by a random stranger and left right after giving birth – or did Madam Claire lie to Nebbia? The leaving part sounds like her, but working as a prostitute? She'd always had a high libido, but would she actually make men pay for her? Maybe the thought isn't as absurd after all. She'd do almost anything for money.

And she needed the money to leave the country. She'd told him very early on. To get to Europe. See Italy. Did she make it? Was she on the other side of the pond while her daughter had to endure a life of servitude?

Keira had been opportunistic, but not that selfish.

Ben tilts his head as he folds the poster back together and slips it into his pocket, watching the bundle in front of him. How can she even breathe curled up like that? He's tempted to lie down behind her and pull her against his chest, hold her close, curl his body around hers, feel her soft breaths... Fuck. He's doing it again. And the thought is back. He leans in with a sigh and traces his fingertip over her cheek, just the right one, where he's seen it. That fucking dimple.

Many people have dimples, it's not that uncommon, or so he tries to tell himself. But what are the odds of his ex-lover's daughter having the same fucking dimple as him? What are the odds that it was him who found her, who saved her, who she feels safe with?

They have a strange connection, a chemistry he's never experienced before, not even with Keira. Nebbia trusts him, just like that, almost unconditionally, despite everything she knows about him (which isn't even much, but enough that she should want to stay away from him, which she doesn't). How easy it is for her to touch him, to be close to him, how comfortable she is around him, not even ashamed to be naked.

But he can't be her father, he just can't, it doesn't add up. Right? Many men have dimples. And he feels close to her because she looks like Keira. Nothing more. And he wouldn't be thinking all these dirty things about her if he were, would he? Or is he just that fucked-up after all?

He lets out a groan and leans back on his arms, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his eyes glued to the girl on the floor. She stirs again, squirming under the blanket. A little whimper escapes her, causing him to shiver. Maybe she's dreaming. Though it does sound more like a nightmare... And of course it would be, the universe doesn't seem to give this girl a break.

For a moment he just watches her, when more and more whimpers and little gasps fall from her lips, but then he's had enough and leans in, slipping his hands under her coiled up body and pulls her closer, until she's curled up in his lap, head resting on his thigh. He crosses his legs and cages her in, holding her close, giving her the warmth and comfort she needs. She relaxes slowly, her breaths calming down, the whimpers turning into quiet mewls, then peaceful, deep breaths.

His fingers slip into her soft hair, down her neck, over the curve of her spine to the swell of her hip where he rests his hand, warm and comforting against the many layers she's wrapped in, showing her he's here. And isn't that what matters in the end, no matter who he is to her? As long as he's here for her?

He'll focus on that. No longer looking back, remembering a woman he hasn't seen in almost two decades. Keira is gone, wherever she may be. But Nebbia is right here, in his embrace. And he'll give the choice to her. If she wants to be close to him, he will let her, and he won't feel bad about wanting the same thing. And if she doesn't, he'll live with it, watching her from afar, imagining the things she's too shy and innocent to admit to.

And no fucking dimple will ever change that.

He fell asleep somehow, and now he's sprawled out on his back while the girl is still curled up between his legs, warm and comforting against him. And of course he's hard because of it. Stirring slightly, he stares up at the ceiling of the cabin, blinking that last dream away, while the dazzling sunlight floods the dusty place, burning away all shadows, all doubts, all deranged thoughts.

Groaning, he wipes at his face, pushes a hand through his messy hair, rolls his stiff neck. He doesn't feel rested, but it doesn't matter. It never does, at least he woke up to a new morning, to –

A sudden jolt rushes through his spine, a warm touch to a sensitive place, and he's quick to sit up on his elbows and looks down, seeing a small hand rubbing along the length of his cock over the fabric of his jeans. “What are you doing?” he grunts out, voice low and hoarse with sleep.

Green eyes meet his, the bundle of blankets, hair and limbs stirring between his legs. Her cheek rests on his thigh while her hand still works on what lies heavy on the other. “You've been so tense,” she whispers, her voice like a hum in the air, sweet like honey, words full of temptation.

“You... don't have to...” he groans as she keeps palming him, expertly he wants to say, but the revelation of that sits thick in his throat.

“I want to,” she replies quietly, as her fingertips trail the outline of the bulge in his pants, curious fingers pressing down with the same little strength as her palm. Moving up and down, teasing the base, poking at the tip. Not even the thick fabric of his jeans can dampen the sensations of her ministrations.

He shivers, swallows hard. “Don't,” he tries again, tempted to grab her wrist and pull her hand away. But he's also tempted to undo his belt, open his buttons, free his erection, and let her work. He's conflicted, so he does nothing but lie back down, crosses his arms behind his head, closes his eyes, leans into her touches.

She shifts between his legs, her free hand resting on his other thigh as she sits up, then it moves to the waistband of his pants, and he sees her doing what he has wanted her to do without even looking down. It's all there behind his eyelids, a fantasy he's had since he first met her.

Her full lips strained around his cock. Flushed cheeks hollowing, a tongue pressing warm and wet against the underside, a deep suck, saliva coating his skin, her big eyes on him as she takes him deeper, deeper, into her little throat until there are tears streaming down her face, and he feels her tightness, he –

He sits up with a grunt and grabs her hand before it can finish unbuttoning his jeans. She yelps at the harsh grip, and he lets go immediately, cursing under his breath. Without looking at her, he scrambles to his feet, breathing heavily, his heart thundering inside his chest. He can't. He shouldn't.

Adjusting himself as he walks, he buckles his belt again, steps out of the stuffy cabin into the bright sunlight, hoping it'll burn away his thoughts. There are shuffling footsteps behind him, then a small, timid hand on his back. He flinches, but doesn't turn around. He hears a little sound akin to a sob, braces himself, and then her arms snake around his stomach from behind as she throws herself against him, a shuddering little thing clinging to him with her face pressing into the curve of his back.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers into him, the hum vibrating through his tense body. He inhales deeply, then puts his hands on her arms, gently rubbing them, while her small body tries to crawl closer to his.

For a moment he just stands there, listening to her shaky breaths, but then it's getting too much, and he carefully pries her hands away from his stomach and turns around, looks down at the girl still wrapped in the blanket, meeting her large innocent green eyes. He crouches down in front of her and holds her hands in his, cradling them gently as he looks up at her.

“I should be sorry,” he says hoarsely. “And I am, I didn't mean to be that harsh...”

She shakes her head, a few wavy strands of hair flying about as she does. “You said no, I should have stopped...” she whispers, biting her lip.

His hands move up to cup her face, so small between his large palms, frail and innocent. He scoots a little closer, leans up on his knees to meet her eye level, holding her gaze. His thumbs caress the corners of her mouth. “Nebbia,” he starts, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions inside his heart, trying to convey his conflicts to her, “I –”

She interrupts him by putting her own small hands on his bearded cheeks, so small, so fragile, her touch warm but surprisingly strong, confident, wanting. Her breath ghosts his dry lips. She leans closer, tilting her head, moving in, eyes half-lidded, fingertips grazing his ears, slipping into his hair, thumbs scraping over his beard.

He's frozen in place, just looking at her, waiting, wanting, but also not, and when her little nose brushes against his, he stiffens even more, holding her face tightly, almost too tightly, but she keeps going, inch by inch she comes closer, and then –

It's him who closes the distance. A little tug of his hands, a little jerk of his chin towards her, and his lips collide with hers, a desperate smack that makes her gasp, that makes his heart flutter and his stomach churn. One hand on her jaw, thumb on her chin, the other slipping to the back of her neck, both of them guiding her into the kiss. The fire within roars to life.

He can't stop himself anymore, he moves his lips against hers, slowly at first, carefully, still waiting for her to mirror his movements, and when she finally does, when there's the tiniest pressure back, he groans against her, kissing her firmer, more demanding, his hand splayed over the back of her head, holding her, pushing her closer.

Her fingers sink to his neck, holding onto his shoulders as she staggers slightly against him, heavy little puffs of air coming from her as his lips press against...close around...nibble on hers, and oh, that sharp little inhale when the tip of his tongue moves against her bottom lip, licks along it, using the little gasp to move between her now parted lips.

But before he can push it in further, taste her fully, feel her own pressing back at him, he lets out a grunt and leans back abruptly before he rests his forehead heavy on her shoulder, his hands moving along her body as he wraps his arms around her, holding her in his tight embrace, feeling her shivers and shudders. Her small, frail body, overwhelmed by his urges...

“Ben?” she whispers, her hands coming up to rub at his back, teasing his nape.

He huffs another grunt, inhaling deeply, feeling his lips tingling, warm and wet and almost a little swollen. And he imagines how hers must look, probably even redder, maybe a little irritated from his beard scraping over sensitive skin. Her eyes wide, glistening, not understanding a thing, not seeing his turmoil.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and he barks a quiet laugh into her collarbone, growling in response. He inhales deeply, taking in her sweet scent, sleep still hanging over her, warm and comforting, filling his lungs.

“M'sorry, baby,” he mutters, slowly leaning back, loosening his grip around her.

When he looks at her, her eyes are narrowed in confusion, a little tilt to her head, and her lips, full lips, are indeed very red and slightly trembling. He leans back on his knees and raises a hand to cup her face, wipe his thumb over her bottom lip.

“I can't do this,” he whispers, staring at her mouth.

“Can't do what?” she replies in a breathy puff of air, almost sounding a little pouty. “What are you so afraid of?” she adds, voice shaking slightly.

He looks up then, meeting her hard gaze (as hard as a cute little girl can look, it's even more adorable that she's trying to appear tough, fighting her own emotions). His finger traces her cheek, rough fingertip scraping over soft skin. He watches her, memorizes the details of her face with his eyes, ignores her question. “Smile for me,” he whispers, leaning a little closer again.

She frowns, straining her features into the exact opposite direction. “What?”

“Smile for me,” he repeats with a soft smile of his own. She stares at him, blinks, but the corners of her mouth twitch, even more so when his smile widens, and she mimics it, and there it is.

He moves quickly, one hand on her nape as he guides her head towards him, then presses his lips to her cheek, parts them, lets the tip of his tongue dip into that barely there indent. He can feel it, taste her skin, the fucking dimple.

Breathing heavily against her, he closes his eyes, can't look at it. Can't look at her. His hands leave her body completely, resting on his thighs as he sits back on his knees in front of her, shaking his head in defeat.

The clap of her palms against his cheeks is loud as she cups his face with force. His eyes fly open, meeting hers. “What's wrong with you?” she whispers, sounding more confused than angry as she stares down at him.

Her words cut deep, but for a different reason than she intended. Yes, what is wrong with him... thinking these things about her... about his –

“Come on, Ben, talk to me! Why are you acting so strange?” she urges, holding his large head with her tiny hands.

“We have the same dimple,” he then confesses, letting it out, revealing the turmoil.

She looks even more confused. “What? Huh?” Her lips quiver as she opens her mouth and closes it again repeatedly, her eyes narrowed, a deep crease between her eyebrows. “So?”

He inhales deeply, then sighs. “I... I'm afraid I could be... your...” He can't say it, his voice strained, rough, a low tremble in his throat.

“What?” she breathes in exasperation.

“Father,” he finally says, quietly, a word like a ton of bricks burying him alive.

The tension in her face relaxes, turns into wide eyes, eyebrows moving up towards her hairline, lips parting into a silent O. A deep red blush creeps up her pale cheeks. He sees the cogs working inside her brain as she stares at him, the grip of her hands around his face loosening.

He just watches her, face tense under her soft palms, lips pressed into a thin line. She's slipping away, he can feel it, appalled, disturbed, irritated, angry? Disappointed? Her eyes move over his face, a frantic little twitch of green orbs moving back and forth, as she processes what he said. Her hands land on his shoulders, a barely there pressure.

But then she raises one again, extends a finger, traces his cheek, scrapes it over his beard, looking for the dimple that is hidden in the tension of his face. She finds it nevertheless, the little bit of skin barely visible between the thickness of his facial hair. Her eyes move back to his.

“So we have the same dimple,” she whispers, shrugging slightly. “So what? Is that all it takes to confirm that you're my... my... that I'm your...”

She can't say it either, apparently, and he sees the conflict in her gaze, the same as his. They seem clearly attracted to each other, their chemistry is there, the connection, a mirror image of his own desires, albeit probably less graphic. And yet –

“I've been with your mother, about twenty years ago, maybe a little less, I can't remember to be perfectly honest,” he says quietly. “It's possible...”

She shakes her head, slowly at first, then more agitated. “No!” she exclaims, her hands back on his face as she leans closer. He stays still, immobile, stiff, forcing himself not to give in to the temptations. “Madam Claire said –”

“What if she lied? What if your mother came to them already pregnant?” he whispers.

She keeps shaking her head, and he sees her eyes glistening slightly. Her breaths are frantic little huffs. “No,” she says again, barely audible. Her jaw clenches, her eyebrows furrow, she looks as if she's about to cry, and it's killing him.

“Baby,” he breathes, his hands itching to reach up and comfort her.

She swallows. “Do you... want to be my... father?” she then asks, blinking away the first tear.

His answer comes quick, almost harshly so. “No,” he says, seeing her flinch. “I want to be there for you, I want to protect you, but I also want to –” He inhales deeply, slowly moving up on his knees, getting closer, his hand finding its way to her waist. “Kiss you... and... touch you...”

She licks her lips, watching him, inching closer, meeting his motion. “Then... you're not... n-not my f-father,” she stammers, her lips quivering. “There's no proof... it doesn't m-matter...” Her thumbs wipe over the corners of his mouth, her eyes pleading.

He looks at her, his fingers digging gently into her skin. His other hand moves around her, up her back, to her nape, a gentle pressure as he pulls her even closer. “Nebbia...”

“It doesn't matter, Ben,” she whispers, her eyes boring into his.

And then she moves in, and her trembling lips meet his. Her kiss is shaky, uncertain, inexperienced. He lets her, just stays still, holds her. She moves her lips over his, purses them slightly, presses them to the corner of his mouth, to his upper lip, his bottom lip, a shiver running through her small frame. Her eyelids flutter, but she doesn't close them.

After a moment she leans back just enough that there's about an inch between them. Her warm breath ghosts his skin, her hands a little clammy against his cheeks. The tiniest sob escapes her, but he catches it before it can grow, before it gets worse. Catches it with his mouth. She gasps, but immediately kisses him back as he moves his lips against hers, even opens her mouth for him, darts her tongue out, meets his, lets them move against each other slowly, wet and warm and comforting.

Her taste is overwhelming.

He groans, she hums, his hand firmly on her neck, her fingers digging into his hair, gripping it as the kiss deepens. The hand on her waist drags her towards him, and she stumbles slightly until she's suddenly sitting on his thighs, straddling him, the blanket finally falling off her shoulders. He wraps an arm around her, pulls her close, leans back on his knees, gives her space that she immediately fills, while their tongues still wrestle, their lips still slide against each other, their noises a soft hum in the atmosphere, drowning out any doubts.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't...

Doesn't matter.

She is panting against him, her hands gripping his hair while he holds her, arms crossed over her back, fingers curling around her sides, her small body pressed against him, so close, so warm, squirming on his lap, rubbing against him. He groans into her mouth as his stomach tightens. Her needy little whimpers like music in his ears. She is obviously breathless, her lungs probably burning, but she doesn't stop, doesn't give her tongue or lips a break, as if she needs him more than air – and just as much as he needs her.

He takes the choice from her by turning his head slightly, inhaling deeply, and her lips keep moving over his cheek, to his jaw, down his neck, her little tongue sliding over his pulse causing him to shiver. She's insatiable, but he holds her close, moves one hand into her hair, stilling her against the crook of his neck, forcing her to breathe. Her chest rises and falls against his rapidly, her heart hammering against her ribs, vibrating through him as he presses his thumb against her jugular.

For a long moment they're just sitting like this, holding onto each other, savoring the aftermath of their kiss, each of them stewing in their own thoughts, if they are any due to lack of oxygen. His own are a low, nagging rumble in the back of his mind, and he tries his best to ignore them and to focus on the girl on his lap instead. She squirms slightly, the pressure of her pelvis against his groin sending little sparks through his nerves.

He noses at her hair, taking in her scent, hoping to drown in it. In his mind he is back at the brothel, cornering the lady of the house, forcing her to give him proof. It doesn't matter. But he needs proof. She could hold the answer, and even if it would confirm his suspicions, it wouldn't change anything. It doesn't matter. But he would know.

He needs to know.

Chapter 6 🟪 Chapter 8

End notes: I don't know about you, but I loved (writing) this chapter! So much drama, passion, angst and fluff and ahhh so good! Take this, slow burn! We've got contact! And a revelation that might be a little off-putting for some... BUT before you leave because "ew incest", hear me out: without spoiling anything: IF this becomes a reality or not (you'll have to stick with me here to find out, sorry), remember this is a piece of fiction! Just two people with a connection. A fluffy little love story (with eventual smut, just putting it out there). (Also historically speaking, well, the west was wild, right?)

I really hope you're more intrigued than you are appalled, because we're just getting started here! The drama continues! Please stay tuned!

Thanks for reading! Next chapter on Friday!

AO3 -- MASTERLIST -- INSPIRATION POSTS

[hookedonapirate]

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.  

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Previously on Beyond a Reasonable Doubt: Neal breaks into Emma's home, and David arrests him. Killian's worried for her safety and escapes the hospital. Emma finds him outside her ranch house and takes care of him.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4 I Ch 5 I Ch 6 I Ch 7 I Ch 8 I Ch 9 I Ch 10 I Ch 11 I Ch 12

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 13

There’s a naked man in her bed.

A gorgeous, naked man.

Emma washes the dishes, tends to the horses and does some chores at Anna’s and Kristoff’s trying to forget there’s a naked man in her bed.

Ha! Like she could forget.

Earlier she had pulled Killian’s truck into her garage out back and brought in the duffle bag from his front seat with his clothes and things, setting it on the floor at the end of her bed. 

By the time she’s back inside her house, there’s a knock on the door. Panic rises in her gut as she wonders who it could be. Did David find out Killian’s missing, assume he came here and ask Elsa for her address? The man obviously has no boundaries, so she wouldn't put it past him. But when she opens the door, she’s surprised to find Camila and Elsa on her porch.

“Uh, hi.” Emma throws on a smile and looks over her shoulder to make sure Killian hasn’t gotten up from his much-needed sleep. After confirming the coast is clear, she reverts her attention to her cousin and niece. 

“Auntie Em!” Camila throws out her arms, and Emma picks her up, giving her a hug. 

“What a pleasant surprise!”

Elsa’s face clouds over with guilt as she steps inside. “I hope it’s okay to stop by like this. David told me what happened with Cassidy, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Of course he did.

Emma sets down her niece, refraining from rolling her eyes. “It’s perfectly fine. You and Camila are welcome here anytime. And yes, I’m okay, I just took a few days off.”

Elsa dons a small smile as she places her hands on Emma’s arms. “I feel terrible you had to stay at your house alone.”

Emma shakes her head. “It’s not your fault, Elsa. Cassidy would’ve tried to get to me regardless. I’m only glad me staying at your place didn’t put you and Camila in danger.”

“Auntie Em, may I use the restroom?”

“Yes, you may, Camila,” Emma answers with a smile, appreciating how polite her niece is.

“Thank you!” She darts off toward the bathroom.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Emma asks Elsa.

“Sure, some iced tea if you have it.”

Emma heads to the kitchen and pours her cousin a glass, bringing it to her.

They sit on the sofa as Elsa sips her tea. “So, does Cassidy have this weird obsession with you or what?”

Emma cringes at the topic, but she supposes she owes Elsa more answers about what’s been going on. “Unfortunately, yes. He’s been stalking me and breaking into my house.” Emma goes into more details, mentioning the roses and the cards he left for her.

“And David hasn’t done anything about it?”

“He arrested Neal but had to let him go yesterday.”

Concern wrinkles Elsa’s forehead. “Oh, Emma, you really shouldn’t be alone.”

Technically, she’s not alone, since she has Killian here, but she can’t exactly tell Elsa that.

She can hear Camila bounding down the steps, which is odd because there’s a bathroom down here.

“Auntie Em, why is Uncle Killy naked in your bed?”

Emma’s cheeks flame as Elsa looks over at her cousin, her jaw dropped. “Killian’s here? I didn’t know you released him. I have to see this!”

“Wait, I can explain….”

But it's too late. Elsa is already dashing up the steps like a teenager. Emma sighs and stands up, heading upstairs with Camila. 

When she reaches her bedroom, Elsa is standing in the doorway with her jaw still on the floor and her hands cupping her mouth. 

“See, I told you, Mommy. Uncle Killy’s naked.” Camila covers her mouth with her hand and giggles into her palm. “I can see his tushy.”

Emma looks over Elsa’s shoulder, and sure enough, the sheet and blanket had slid off of him, revealing his perfect, naked butt.

“Shhh, we don’t want to wake him,” Emma whispers. “Uncle Killy needs his rest.”

Elsa snorts and looks over at her, winking. “I’m sure he does.”

Emma's fairly certain she’s blushing even harder now. She opens her mouth to correct her and the assumptions she knows Elsa has formed in her head by now about what happened between her brother-in-law and cousin, but Emma doesn’t think it’s a good idea to tell her he escaped the hospital. Elsa would probably tell David, and David would come over here as fast as he could and bust down her door, trying to drag Killian back to the hospital. But honestly, besides escaping and trying to kill himself to get here, she’s glad he’s here. She’s glad she doesn’t have to be here alone.

She steps into her bedroom and goes over to the bed, checking Killian’s incision, her cheeks flushed as she tries not to stare at his ass. But damn, it really is a perfect ass. She unfortunately has to cover it up with the sheet and blanket and return to Elsa and Camila who are still standing in the doorway. Emma reaches for the knob, and the three of them back up into the hall so she can close the door. 

“So, you and Killian, huh?” Elsa questions, nudging Emma’s elbow, a big, bright grin on her face.

Emma smiles bashfully as they head downstairs. “Me and Killian.” On one hand, Emma is glad Elsa isn’t upset with her anymore, or at least doesn’t appear to be, but on the other hand, she hates that she’s lying to her cousin. But it’s not completely a lie. 

Before Emma found out Killian was investigating her, there was definitely something going on between them. She did invite Killian into her bed after all, and they shared one hell of a kiss. A kiss she still can’t get out of her head. A kiss that still makes her hot when she thinks about how good it made her feel and how amazing Killian tasted. Hell, if she could do it all over again, she would. 

“Well, do I get any details?” she asks excitedly.

“He’s a good kisser,” Emma answers, giving her something truthful at least. “ Very good.”

“So was Liam. I think it runs in the family.”

Emma laughs, surprised where this conversation has headed.

“Auntie Em, can I see the horsies?”

Phew. Saved by her niece.

Emma nods and smiles, carding a hand through Camila’s brown curls. “Sure. You can ride Buttercup if you want.”

Her big blue eyes light up with excitement, and she smiles from ear to ear. “Really?!” 

“As long as your mom’s okay with it.”

Camila gives Elsa the Puss in Boots eyes.

“Okay, you can ride the pony.” Camila squeals as Elsa lowers her voice, whispering in Emma’s ear. “I suppose it’s only fair since you rode my brother-in-law.”

Emma’s jaw drops to the ground as they head outside. She was not expecting that from her cousin.

“I got new paddock boots.” Camila points to the shiny black boots on her feet.

“I noticed. Very nice.” She narrows her eyes at Elsa. “So you had planned on horseback riding when you came here?”

Elsa shrugs. “She had hoped. And I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. I mostly wanted to check on you and see how you were doing. But you know Camila—she loves Buttercup.”

Emma nods as she grabs Camila’s black riding helmet from the tack room and hands it to her. Buttercup has a beautiful chestnut coat and likes to give kisses.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wake Killian? He would love seeing Camila ride.”

Emma shakes her head. “He may be out of the hospital but he’s still not good as new. He really needs his rest.” That isn’t a lie. Actually, Emma's downplaying how well Killian is, but she doesn’t want to worry her cousin.

She helps Camila tack Buttercup to prepare her for riding, and she helps them over to the mounting block, letting her niece mount the pony. Emma holds onto a lead rope attached to Buttercup’s halter as she leads the pony around, Elsa walking beside them.

Emma is glad they came over, she’s glad she gets to spend time with her cousin and niece. Camila rides for a bit before they head inside, and Emma makes them sandwiches for lunch. After they leave, she takes a much-needed shower.

~*~

When Killian wakes up, he’s on his back and the room is dim, light seeping from under the connecting door he assumes is to a bathroom based on the shower he can hear running. He has no idea how long he has slept, all he knows is the shower is being turned off and he can soon hear the sound of a hair dryer. Moments later, the door is opening and the light goes out.

Emma emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her body, the smell of fruity shampoo and soap following her into the bedroom. She looks over at him, catching him staring. “I hope I didn’t wake you. The bathroom downstairs doesn't have a shower.”

“It’s okay, love.”

“How are you feeling?” Her feet are bare against the hardwood floor as she walks to his bedside and leans over, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft golden waves he wants to comb his fingers through. He wonders if her golden locks feel as soft and silky as they look. He wonders if her lips taste as sweet and delicious as they did the last time he kissed her. She sweeps her hair to one side as she examines him closely, the tips of her hair brushing against his chest hair. “Do you want anything?”

“Aye,” he manages, his voice hoarse as he looks up into her luminous green eyes. Her body on him, her hands on him, her lips.

“What would you like?” She runs her hand through his hair, brushing some stray strands away from his face as her other hand secures the towel against her body.

He’d like to slip his hand under the bottom hem of her towel and let his fingers get lost between her thighs. He’d like to get something else lost there too. His tongue, his cock… “You.” He can hear her breath catch, and he cups the back of her head, pulling her to him. He was right—her hair is as soft and silky as it looks.

And so are her lips.

She eagerly moves her mouth against his and tastes so sweet and warm, even better than he remembers. He can tell he’s running a fever, his body hot like fire, but when their tongues meet, goosebumps cover his skin, chilling him to the bone. Their mouths waste no time getting reacquainted with one another, her tongue brushing his so fiercely, his head is spinning.

Emma pushes the blankets away from his body, revealing his cock that’s fucking aching for her. She wraps her hand around him, stroking him softly. He groans into her mouth, his hand still buried in her hair as his other one grabs her hip, wanting her closer. Apparently, she can read his mind and has no qualms making his wish come true, because the next thing he knows she’s climbing on top of him and straddling his waist. 

Her bare center is rubbing against his stomach, eliciting a rough groan from his throat when he feels how wet she is. And it’s not from the shower, considering the rest of her is dry. Then her towel has to go and fall halfway, and she presses her body closer to his until they're skin to skin, leaving no space between them, his brain turning to the consistency of mushy oatmeal. Her nipples harden against his chest, and he growls as he runs his hand up her back and brings it around, cupping her firm breast in his hand and brushing her nipple with his thumb, producing the most sensual, delicious moan from her mouth he’s ever heard in his life as he gently tugs on the perfectly pink bud.

He’s hard as a fucking rock as he glides his cock through her glistening folds, letting her feel how hard she makes him. He has never been this hard before. Releasing her hair, he moves his hand to her bare ass, pushing the towel away as he squeezes her perfect butt and presses her firmly against him. He winces in pain. He’d been so caught up in the kiss, he’d forgotten about his wound.

Emma quickly breaks the kiss, panting as she studies his face in concern, their eyes meeting with electric intensity as she rakes her fingers through his hair. “Killian, we shouldn’t do this.” She’s breathing raggedly as he pulls her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re not well. You shouldn’t be engaging in any strenuous activity.”

He smirks against her skin as he peppers kisses up and down her neck. “If I die, it will be so worth it.” He’d die a happy man.

“You are not dying on my watch.”

He pouts and settles for taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking. She moans, her back arching. “Killian…as your doctor, I…” she croaks out, her body physically disagreeing with her words. “I advise you against it.”

“Says the naked woman on top of me.”

Her cheeks flush with a rosy pink hue, a bashful smile curving her lips as she rises. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

She climbs off of him, taking away all her warmth as she wraps her towel back around her body and pulls the sheet over him, her skin all flushed as she spins around and goes to her dresser, searching through her drawers. The back of her looks just as good as her front, the towel barely covering her arse. He licks his lips as he watches her take out some clothes.

“Don’t peek.” She cranes her neck to flash him a blushing smile.

He looks up at the ceiling. “I won’t, I promise.” But he has no intention to keep his promise. Returning his eyes to her, he watches as she drops the towel and slips on the smallest thong he has ever seen. It’s as pink as her perfectly round, flushed cheeks, and she slips on a matching bra before pulling on a pair of jeans. As she’s buttoning them up, she looks over, catching him staring. “Hey, you said you wouldn’t peek.”

He shrugs, never peeling his eyes from her as she pulls on a tank top, covering that tone, sexy stomach. “I also promised David I’d keep my hands off you, but that obviously didn’t happen.”

She turns around and plants her hands on her hips as she narrows her eyes at him. “David told you to keep your hands off me?”

“Yes, because you’re a suspect in the investigation. He thought liking you would cloud my judgment.”

Emma makes her way back to him. “And did it?”

“Aye.” He reaches for her hand and threads their fingers together, his heart pounding erratically. “But I have no regrets…other than not being truthful with you.”

Her green eyes are full of warmth and forgiveness as she caresses his cheek with her free hand. “You were doing what you had to do.”

He growls and grabs her hip, pulling her closer. “Now I’m doing what I want to do. You better hope I don’t get better.”

She arches her brow. “Oh and why’s that?”

He squeezes her hip. “Because when I do, you won’t be able to keep me off you.”

Emma’s cheeks redden as she slips away from him, a smirk curving her lips as she backs away toward the door. “I’m counting on it.”

~*~

As Killian takes a much-needed shower, his head is still spinning, but not because of his injury. That damn kiss he’d shared with Emma had made him want to do much more than kiss, despite how much pain he was in. It definitely would’ve been worth it. Then she said she was counting on it when he said she wouldn’t be able to keep him off her when he was feeling better again.

But as much as he looks forward to it, he has to focus on other matters. He had left that note for Cassidy, who is most likely out for blood. Even more than he already was. He has to protect Emma from that monster, so he can’t be thinking about how much he wants to be inside her or how much he wants to keep kissing her.

Fuck.

He’s hard again just thinking about what he can’t do.

He gets out of the shower, scrubbing himself dry with a towel and trimming his beard with the razor from his duffle bag he’d brought with him to Storybrooke. Emma had brought it inside and set it at the foot of the bed.

He’s beginning to look more human than he was before the long sleep. He’s no Prince Charming, but still devilishly handsome.

He leaves the bathroom just as Emma enters the bedroom, her cheeks turning pink when she sees him. 

“Sorry, I uh…”—she fumbles for words as her eyes travel down his body, then she snaps them up to meet his blue ones—“I just wanted to let you know I’m making dinner if you’re hungry.”

He smirks, his own cheeks heating. “Thanks, love.”

She spins around and leaves, giving him the opportunity to get dressed. 

When he enters the kitchen, she’s slicing some zucchini and squash on a cutting board. She glances up at him, pausing from her task. “Feeling better?”

“Much. Thank you. For everything. Except for the shot. My arse is sore.”

“Well, you look much better.”

“Thanks, love. And how are you? David told me Cassidy attacked you.”

“So you believe I was actually attacked? David sure didn’t.”

“David still considers you a suspect. I don’t. Believe it or not, he’s even more bullheaded than I am.”

“Well, I’m fine.” Emma begins slicing more vigorously. “Other than that sicko having this twisted idea I’m his woman. Your truck is in the garage out back, by the way,” she informs him, changing the subject. “Since you broke out of the hospital, I figured you didn’t want anyone to know you’re here.”

“You figured right. If David knew, he’d be breaking down your door.”

Guilt clouds over her features as she looks up at him. “Elsa knows.”

Killian gulps, staring at her in surprise. “She does?”

“She stopped by with Camila earlier to check on me. Camila ventured upstairs and saw you in my bedroom. She asked me why her uncle Killy was naked in my bed.” Emma laughs.

Killian’s cheeks warm, and he scratches behind his ear. “What did you tell them?”

“I didn’t tell them you broke out of the hospital. I just told them you were resting…” Emma adds the squash and zucchini into a bowl and quarters some red potatoes on the cutting board, her eyes focused on her task. “I made Elsa believe you and I slept together.”

Killian’s eyes widen. “You told her we slept together?”

“No, she assumed we had and I didn’t correct her. But don’t worry, I told her not to tell anyone you’re here.”

“Thanks, love.” Killian thinks about it for a moment and wonders what it would hurt for people to know he was here with Emma. For people to think they were together…as a couple. Cassidy would especially be furious. Then he’d definitely track them down and seek his revenge.

With her knife, Emma points to his phone on the counter. “Your phone has been going off like crazy.”

He goes over to pick it up, seeing all the missed calls and voicemail notifications from David. His phone rings again, and David’s name comes across the screen. “Bloody hell,” Killian curses under his breath. “I might as well get this over with.” He carries his phone to the front porch before answering. “Hey, mate,” he greets cheerfully, pretending he has no idea he’s about to get his arse chewed out. 

“Where the hell are you?” 

“I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking.” 

“Killian—” 

He releases a long sigh. “I was getting antsy and couldn't take that hospital anymore. So I left, grabbed my truck from your house and got to Port Lavaca around five o'clock. I’ve been asleep most of the day and got a whole lot more rest listening to the surf than I was able to get in the hospital.” 

“Bullshit. I already know your cottage is empty. I asked the police there to check.” 

Shit.

“Now cut the crap and tell me the real reason you escaped the hospital.”

“I’m a big boy, David. I don’t have to explain myself to—”

“You’re with her, aren’t you?”

“It’s none of your business where I am.”

“It is my business. Because she’s coincidentally flown the coop, too. Elsa mentioned she and Camila went over to Emma’s ranch earlier today.” 

“Oh, now you’re using my sister-in-law and niece to spy on me?”

“No, for your information, Elsa called me to report a break-in.”

Killian’s stomach lurches. “A break-in?”

“Yes, and take a stab at who was the uninvited guest?” David doesn’t need to say the name out loud for Killian to know who it was.

Cassidy.

Balling his free hand into a fist and clutching the phone tightly with his other hand, he grits his teeth and snarls. “I’ll kill him.”

“First we have to find him. He disappeared before I got there. He’s not at his condo either.”

Fuck.

Killian does his best not to say anything to Emma over dinner. He’s guessing she doesn’t know yet, otherwise, she’d be upset.

“Everything okay?” she asks, taking a bite of her chicken.

They had brought their plates outside to enjoy their dinner on the deck out back while watching the sun set, but he finds it hard to enjoy anything after the news David had shared with him. Even though Emma’s cooking is quite good. “Everything’s fine.” He takes a bite of zucchini. “This is delicious. I think you missed your calling as a chef.”

She arches a brow at him, taking a sip of white wine. She wouldn’t let him have any, said mixing alcohol with painkillers could have harmful side effects, but it’s nice to see her so relaxed. Which is exactly why he doesn’t want to tell her about her cousin and niece. “Really? You think the doctor who saved your life missed her calling?” Her question is loaded with amusement.

He manages a small chuckle and sips his water. “Fair point, love.”

When they’re finished eating, Emma sets down her fork on the plate and crosses her arms on the table. “Are you ever going to tell me what David said?”

Killian draws in a long breath and tosses his napkin on the plate. Before he can answer her question, her own phone rings on the table.

The screen is facing the sky, so he can see who’s calling.

It’s Elsa.

He gulps. “You’ll want to answer that.”

Emma narrows her eyes at him. “What happened?”

“Just answer your phone, love. Trust me.”

Unwilling to question him any further, she picks it up and greets her cousin. “Wait, slow down,” she says into the phone. “What happened?”

He can hear Elsa’s panicked voice as he watches Emma's face transform from carefree and relaxed to worried and concerned, and then anger.

Emma’s about to hurry off and jump in her car, but he can hear Elsa telling her she and Camila went to stay with Ingrid’s sister in Arendelle. She sighs in relief. “And you’re both okay?”

David told him Cassidy didn’t lay a finger on them. They came home to find him sitting on the living room sofa and complimenting her furniture. He also asked them where Emma and Killian were. Thankfully, Camila was taught not to talk to strangers and hid behind her mother the entire time. When Elsa told him she had no idea, he didn’t believe her and told her she and her dead husband had made a very beautiful daughter. Elsa had become frozen as a statue as she clutched onto Camila tightly and protectively. Finally, he left, and Elsa immediately called David and was in tears.

Emma hangs up the phone, her face as pale as a ghost, her expression perplexed. “He threatened my cousin and niece.” Her voice is shaking, and Killian’s thrown off guard. He has never seen Emma like this. Granted he hasn’t known her for very long, but he knows enough about her to know she doesn’t scare easily. Neither does Elsa. They are both strong women, and it takes a fucking arsehole like Cassidy to strike fear into them. “I need to go back to Storybrooke,” Emma finally says after a long moment of silence, panic in her voice. “Before he terrorizes anyone else.”

Killian rises from his chair and goes over to her, taking her arms in his hands. “You can’t. That’s what he wants. He threatened Elsa and Camila to lure us out of hiding.”

“But Killian, I can’t just stay here and do nothing.” Her eyes well with tears. “People are dead because of me! This is all my fault.” Tears stream down her cheeks. “Now the people I love are going to pay for a decision I made!”

Killian pulls her to him, holding her close, whispering softly in her ear and stroking her hair, “Hey, hey, hey.” He pulls away slightly to cup her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “None of this is your fault. You hear me? Cassidy is the killer. He’s been getting away with murder long before you came into the picture.”

 “I know but—”

“But nothing. If anyone else is to blame, it’s me, not you.”

Emma furrows her brows. “What do you mean?”

Killian lets out a long sigh as he releases her. He goes over to the railing, gripping onto the ledge and gazing out into the dark, starry night, a crescent moon hanging in the sky. Emma comes up behind him and places her hand gently on his back. When he looks over at her, she offers a small smile and encases his hand in hers, encouraging him to explain. 

He takes another breath and looks toward the sky again. “After my parents were gone, Liam was all I had left. He raised me in my teen years, and he was always there for me.” Killian gulps thickly as he thinks about all the memories he shared with Liam, the good ones and the bad ones. Liam and David attended all of his basketball games and he felt so blessed to have a brother like him. Killian talks about Liam’s last case that ultimately ended his life. “I can still remember the look of excitement on his face when he told me over lunch that he was so close to getting the oil man to crack. He was so confident. And his death was so unexpected. When I lost Liam, I lost a piece of myself that day. I lost not only my brother and the man who raised me after our parents died, but I lost my best friend. 

“When Cassidy killed my brother, he left a piece of evidence behind. One that would’ve been enough to convict him. David told me he found it at the crime scene and had the lab analyze it. They determined it came from expensive goods that were only found at the most exclusive stores. A single silk thread. And if they could find a garment made of that fabric in his wardrobe, they’d have him.” 

He looks over at Emma, his eyes stinging with tears. “Liam’s funeral was beautiful and the turnout was more than the church could hold. My brother was loved and respected by everyone. I was bombarded by so many guests, expressing their condolences. But I couldn’t even tell you what was said during the eulogies and the minister’s message. Because I was too enraged, too full of hate and vengeance toward Cassidy. He had stolen the one person left in my life. I had David, but he was always more Liam’s friend than he was mine. To David, I’m the brother of his dead best friend’s he feels obligated to protect.”

Emma brushes her thumb over his. “I’m sure you’re much more than that to him. And believe me, I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t think it was true. David and I aren’t exactly best friends.”

Killian manages a small smile as he looks at her. “He and Mary Margaret hosted the wake at their house. And before it was over, I slipped away without being seen. Cassidy was at home at the time, and I busted down his door and turned his place upside down, searching for the piece of clothing that was made of that thread. And you know what he was doing the entire time?”

Emma arches a brow. “What?”

“He was sitting on his couch, laughing his fucking arse off. Because he knew I was destroying any chance of bringing him to trial for Liam’s murder. Then I went after him, and I probably would’ve killed him if David hadn’t shown up and pulled me off of Cassidy.” He reverts his gaze to Emma, their eyes connecting through the darkness. “So no, none of this is your fault. If I hadn’t lost my temper and my sanity, he would’ve been on death row and you wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t have fled to Port Lavaca to hide from everyone like a damn coward.”

“You’re human, Killian. You were hurt and upset. No one can blame you for that.”

He scoffs. “Elsa did. The DA sure as hell does. And I know deep down, David does too, even if he’d never admit it.”

Emma turns toward him and places her free hand on his shoulder, pulling him toward her so he’s facing her. “I think they, as well as all of us who’ve been affected by Neal and his crimes, only want to see him pay for everything he’s done. As much as I hate to admit it, there are some wounds that can never be healed.”

Killian lifts his hand to caress her cheek. “Like the one caused by your former professor?”

Her face clouds over with confusion. “How did you…” She shakes her head. “Nevermind. You probably figured that out while you were spying on me.”

Killian drops his eyes to the floor of the deck. “Aye.”

She turns around and grabs the plates and empty glasses, taking them inside.

“Let me help you with that, love.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

He opens the sliding door for her and follows behind. He could tell Walsh is a touchy subject she doesn’t wish to talk about, so he drops it…for now. “What if we could finally make Cassidy pay for everything he has done? For attacking you, for trying to murder me? For all the other crimes he’s committed? And we did it without the evidence?” Killian says as he helps Emma load the dishwasher.

Emma arches her brow as she closes and latches the door. “What do you mean? How would we do that? The legal way?” she asks skittishly, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, you know how I said he was setting a trap for us by threatening Elsa and Camila?”

“Yeah.”

He turns toward her, planting his hands on his hips. “Well, what if we could beat Cassidy at his own game? What if we could set a trap for him?”

Emma crosses her arms and steps toward him, curiosity buzzing in her eyes. “What kind of trap?”

Killian rakes a hand through his hair, not sure how she’ll feel about his plan. “Well, Elsa already thinks we’ve slept together. So what if we let everyone else believe it too? What if we made him believe we’re a couple? Nothing grabs a man’s attention more than another man going after his woman.”

Emma's jaw hardens, and she shakes her head furiously. “I am not his woman.”

Killian steps toward her and places his hands on her arms. “I know that, but you said it yourself—he has this twisted idea you’re his. And he already hates my guts. He’s already tried to kill me once. If he thinks we’re lovers, it’ll really grind his gears.” Killian’s lips tilt into a small smirk at the thought. “He’ll be out for my blood once again.”

“Yeah and look where that got you last time,” Emma points out, stepping away from him, her eyes wetting with tears. “I almost lost you.”

He shakes his head. “It’ll be different this time. This time, I’ll be prepared. This time I’m going to catch him before he catches me.” He closes the distance between them and takes her hands in his. “This time, I’m putting him away for good.” 

Or he’ll die trying.

@everything-person @itsfabianadocarmo​ @snowbellewells​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @nikkiemms @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @xsajx​ @julesep3026​ @hookedmom​ @biefaless​ @cluttermind​ @yasbio2015​ @kmomof4​ @lfh1226-linda​ @harshini01 @noensnaringnet​ @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld​ @annastasiarinaldiva​ @royalswan​ @brustudyblog​ @officerrogers​ @gingerchangeling​ @melly326​ @singersdd @mzbossyboots​ @unworried-corsair​ @iamemmaswanjones @authorarsinoe​ @kingofmyheart14​ @nightskylover​ @jamif​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @iam2307​ @winterbaby89​ @chinawoodfan​ @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd​​ @captainswan-shipper88​​ @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera​  

[ditttiiiwrecks]

OT7 Fic Rec Master Post:

 last updated (16/05/2021) 

If my master-list is anything to go by I am clearly obsessed with ot7, so here are some of my favs. 

Some of these stories are linked from Ao3. If any of those fics have been cross posted to Tumblr, please let me know. 

Current Fic Count: 25

Give all these amazing authors some love ♡ & To all the authors, Thank you so much for writing. I am so beyond grateful for all the work and time that you put in to writing these stunning pieces of literary art. 

This list is by no means complete, so if you have any recommendations, send em my way! ♡ Happy Reading!

~Love, @ditttiii  ♡

1) Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all. 

2) Make You Know Love by @btsismybiass 

Summary: Growing up, Jungkook had always shared everything with his brothers; toys, food, clothing, friends, and even girls. The seven were inseparable — secrets were not allowed. Halfway through senior year, Jungkook was sent to a school halfway across the world, though he wouldn’t tell anyone (that didn’t already know) why. Years later, he has an adjoining apartment with his best friend (who is hopelessly in love with him) and 6 brothers he has yet to tell her about. One night, she comes barging into his home unannounced only to be met with a group of sexy foreign strangers.

3) Armed to the Fangs by @jingabitch

Summary: You grew up in the Hunter’s Guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. While making the rounds one night, you encounter Taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. Next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. Finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

4) Sanctuary by @softykooky

Summary: some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

5) Eunoia by @wishesunderthestars

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

6) Tangled Hearts by @writersrealmbts

Summary: You have seven hybrids and life with them can be both good and stressful. Some days are better than others, but in the end, you know that they’re always there for you, in more ways than one.

7)  Diamond Tears and Little Wings by @writersrealmbts 

Summary: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

8) Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals 

Summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

9) The Butter Series by @minniepetals

Summary: their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would have known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

10) Stray Cat Strut by Bang to the Tan (TyphloticHaruspex)

Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

11) BACK HOME by @alexlwrites

Summary: : The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

12)  A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne

Summary: In which you are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of. Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind's greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.

13)  I’ll Still Stay by @sugamoonv

Summary: Y/N, living in a society where hybrids are seen as commonly as pets and working a well-paying job, finally decides to adopt a hybrid for herself. But what happens when instead of one new companion, she leaves with seven? And what happens when nature decides that these companions are meant to be more than that?

14)  The Gateway to Your Heart by @justimajin

Summary:  ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞

15)  Like I Do by interlude__dream

Summary:  It's summer in Seoul. You didn't expect much to happen during your nights working at a coffee shop, but somehow, giving one kid a sandwich wrapped up your fate with seven hungry boys more tightly than you could have ever imagined.

16)  w e a r e a l l m a d h e r e by cath_mg

Summary: In which you're a model student who just managed to catch not just one, not two, but all seven 'transfer students' who just happened to visit your university.At the end of the road, will you stay or will you run? Or...

17)  Follow Me Down by ARMY_BRAT

Summary:  It was supposed to be a simple vacation to a foreign land. You certainly didn’t expect to wake up drugged and caged like an animal in the basement of seven beautiful men.

18)  Sharing is Caring by always_bias_wrecked

Summary:  You decide to let the rest of Bangtan watch you and your boyfriend Jimin have sex one time. Now suddenly everyone seems to want a piece of you, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind sharing.

19)  Ruin Me, I Dare You. by porcelainbones

Summary: Where a regular wannabe author discovers the members of the biggest band in the world are her soulmates. All Seven. (not a reader insert)

20) Abundance by @angelicyoongie

Summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.

21) You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

22)  Accidental Friends by erakun

Summary:  Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. *clears throat* PLATONIC.

23)  Lifeline by @forgottenpasta

Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

24) Restitution  by @cloudteawrites 

Summary: When an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

25) The Lore of the Forest by spield

Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 2/?)

Chapter 2: An Officer for Society

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

Only a few days after your meeting with Hank, human protestors bombed an android supply truck carrying thirium, wiring, pumps, components, and valuable parts. It was clearly not a robbery. Nothing was stolen. The intent was to destroy.

You had heard the news on the way in to work, and decided to drive yourself straight to the crime scene. Cops were still engaged in a shootout with the assailants, who had hunkered down behind some roadblocks and overturned concrete. Paramedics would have been on site if these were humans. Unsurprisingly, there were only cops.

The android that had been driving the truck was slumped over, hanging halfway out of the driver's seat. He had been impaled by a large piece of shrapnel and was stuck to the chair.

Ignoring the gunfire, you ran to his aid. The cops were too focused and too thinly spread to pay attention to you.

The android in the truck was so hyper focused on the wound that he did not see you approaching. He flinched violently when he noticed you suddenly standing by the driver's side.

"I-"

You shrieked when a bullet ricocheted and skimmed the edge of the truck, making a loud dinging sound right next to you.

"I-I'm gonna try to get you out. Please tell me your diagnostic report - just the critical," you pleaded.

The android stuttered a staticky noise through trembling lips. "Low thirium levels, low pressure valves, weakened motor functions, overheating."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good - none of that is imminent - gonna get you outta here."

The door was gaping open, barely hanging off the hinges. You propped up on the step that aided climbing into the cabin and leaned against the door frame. You wrapped your hands around the shrapnel protruding from the androids abdomen. It was completely coated in thick thirium, making it impossible to decipher, until you touched it. It was a thick piece of steel rebar, and there was no way you could get that out yourself.

"I need you to slide forward so we can get you off this," you pleaded with the android.

He drooped forward and huffed, whimpering static, gravely noises. "I can't - I can't."

"I want to save you, but I can't do it alone. Please help me."

The android's hands flexed, reaching, and stopped for a second, before he tried again, bracing himself against the dashboard. The angle was awkward, he was bleeding profusely, and your hands were covered in it, but you leaned in, wrapped your arms around his chassis, and tried to help him unimpale from the steel rebar.

He didn't seem to be in pain; but, he was panicking, he was scared. Through his clothes, you could feel how bad he was overheating, feel the vibrating of an overworked processor.

Finally, finally, you saw the other end of the rebar exit his body. You stepped down and helped him shimmy out of the truck. He nearly collapsed when he landed on his feet, but you were quick to sling an arm over your shoulder and encourage him to lean against you.

More cops had arrived, but you couldn't hear them over the sound of the android wheezing in your ear and your own heartbeat thundering in your head. Together, awkwardly, you managed to shuffle him away from the wreckage and carefully set him on the ground, helping him lay on his back.

Tools - you needed tools - shit -

"Don't move," you gently commanded him, scrambling to your feet and running to your car. It wasn't going to be pretty, but a soldering kit and some cheap android flesh would have to do.

"I don't have the good stuff - can only do a temporary patch job for now," you explained, pulling out the solder. He didn't seem at all perturbed by it. "I need to move your clothes," you explained, in a tone that was asking. He nodded and helped you pushed his shirt up to expose the wound.

It was a quick charge kit and was hot in a matter of seconds. One hand held the solder while the other held the molten plastic. Thankfully, you had done this enough times to know how not to burn your hands.

It looked bad, like caulking in drywall, but it stopped the bleeding and covered his wiring. With your hands occupied, you had to urge him yourself. "Roll over, please."

He obeyed enough for you to do an equally terrible job on the opposite wound. Once done, you dropped your equipment and used your hands to urge the android onto his back once more.

"Don't exert yourself," you instructed. He felt like a burning hot furnace, and it was making you sweat, even in this weather. He needed more thirium, now.

You saw panic dance behind his eyes and he tried to lift up. "No - no - no," you stammered, trying to push him back down. "I know you're overheating and that's scary, but please - please stay still. Put yourself in power saving mode and I'll get you more thirium."

The look in his eyes was quite familiar: distrust. "I don't have to listen t-"

"You're right. You don't. This isn't for me. This is for you," you said, panic, scolding, and determination heavy on your tongue. "I ran in there and I pulled you out of that damn truck and I promised to save you, but I can't if you don't-"

You trailed off as the android started to lean back. Understanding. That was one of your favorite looks.

"Thank you," you breathed as he settled back on the ground.

"P-please don't leave me here," he begged, hand reaching up to grab desperately at your wrist. Power-saving mode, on the ground, in the middle of the street, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. You didn't blame him in the slightest.

"I'm gonna help you walk out of here. I promise," you replied, gently removing his hand from your wrist. He nodded and leaned back until he was flat on the ground.

You saw his LED flicker from a strong red to yellow before dulling to nothing as he slowly powered down. When he was still enough, you pushed off of him and staggered to your feet.

Thirium - of course you didn't have thirium in your car. That stuff wasn't exactly easy to come by these days, and you couldn't afford to keep a stash of that lying around.

- the truck.

You eyed the vehicle. It was angled in a way that left the back exposed and potentially subject to gunfire. Undoubtedly, there was still lingering concerns over what kind of arsenal the assailants had.

The police had been too occupied to secure the perimeter; but, more cops had come pouring in and were working to get civilians out of the way.

You had thought that you heard your name, but didn't acknowledge it until you heard it again, louder. You spun around and saw Connor approaching, his police jacket flapping at his sides and his tie out of line.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he came to a halt in front of you. He eyed your thirium soaked clothes, concern heavy in his gaze.

"Holy shit, Connor, slow down," Hank breathlessly called out from behind him, struggling to keep up.

"I need to get thirium off that truck - or he's gonna die," you explained hastily, pointing at the android laying on the asphalt.

"We don't know the full extent of their arsenal," Connor explained. "There's no way-"

"Wasn't asking," you interrupted him, firmly.

You caught sight of Connor's LED flickering briefly to yellow before back to blue. Another cop ran up to the detectives, though his words failed to reach your ears. Connor and Hank turned their attention to him, long enough for you to make a decision.

You skirted around the android and made a beeline for the truck. You could hear Connor call out your name and gravel kick up under his feet as he started a pursuit.

"H-hey! Son of a bitch!" Hank's voice roared, almost drowned out by the gunfire. "Damn fucking kids," he cursed some more. "This damn shootout is going nowhere - HEY-!" Hank disappeared into the line of cops, shouting profanities.

The back of the truck had been blown up, leaving a gaping hole for crates to pour out of it. Many of those crates had thirium bags, which were punctured and leaking a goopy mess all over the floor. Some of them had to still be sealed.

Before you could get close enough, arms wrapped around you. Connor spun you around, torso pressed flat against your back, legs tangled. He rotated you away from the fire, placing himself between you and the ongoing shootout. Your bodies slammed against the side of the truck.

"Fucking - Connor, let me go!" you whaled.

"You're going to get yourself killed," he replied, some edge to his voice that you had not heard before, sharp on his tongue, like a scolding. Was he... angry? Considering all that was going on, it shouldn't have mattered, but breathed against your skull like that, it gave you chills.

Maybe, under different circumstances, you would have processed his closeness a little better.

"Haven't died yet," you hissed back, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

Almost like a taunt from the universe, another bomb went off. Considering the delay, it must have been an accident, likely intended to go off sooner. It was small, went off on the other side of the truck, but startled a scream out of you. You and Connor slipped to the ground. He wrapped himself around you as the ground shook and debris flew.

Chassis to torso, almost completely enveloped in him. You tried to brush him off to focus on the task at hand.

"Get back to the street," he breathed into your hair.

"Not yet!" you shouted back at him.

In the corner of your eye, you could see the crate holding thirium bags. The explosion had actually helped jostle it closer, or perhaps your tumble to the floor brought you closer.

You wiggled out of his grasp as best you could, just enough to shimmy over and yank one of the crates free. It clattered about, spilling thirium everywhere. You dragged your hands through the mess until you found a bag unpunctured.

You clutched it like a newborn child as Connor dragged you to your feet. He didn't have to tell you to run before you already started, back to the street, back to your patient, who was still in power saving mode, right where you left him.

Connor came up right behind you. There was some criticism hot on his tongue, but it died on his lips when he saw you fall to the ground.

You practically skidded to your knees as you dropped beside the damaged android. Connor could see that you were injured, not severely enough to cause any long term damage; but, it had gone completely unnoticed by you. You were completely focused on this android - someone you didn't know, someone you saw as so much of a person that they deserved the risk of your own life at the potential of being saved.

Connor didn't have need for this function, but he swallowed dryly. It was boiling over again: that admiration. He felt something else tug at his consciousness, a startling need to protect you.

You weren't asked to come here or drag yourself along the floor for this android. You shouldn't have even been here in the first place. You chose this.

He remembered what he was choosing to do and disappeared into the line of fire.

You reached for your bag, where you had left it on the ground beside the android, and only then noticed that your hand was cut up, bruised and bleeding. No matter. It could wait.

You emptied the contents uncaringly, seeking out the external thirium pump. It was just a tube and balancer, with the right connector, but it was necessary.

This android's model was new enough that he had the quick release hatch behind his ear. You sought it out, one arm cradling the android upright while the other opened the hatch on his upper back. You slid the pump past the protective layers and into the emergency valve, careful to secure it properly. Once you felt the reassuring snap, your trembling hand worked at the other end.

You carefully removed the blue blood bag's protective seal, struggling to twist it off with just one hand. Once the pump was connected to the thirium bag, you grasped it and gave a gentle squeeze, and it began to spurt through the tube and into the android's core.

"I need you to wake up now," you uttered, using a free, very dirty hand, to shake the android's shoulder. The verbal queue was more useful than the shaking, but you did it anyway.

He hummed to life immediately.

"Wha-"

"Please don't move too much. I'm transferring thirium," you explained hastily. The android's eyes landed on your eyes. You could see his eyes go distant as he performed a quick diagnostic check. It must have verified your claims for he visibly relaxed when he was done.

His hand slid over your hand that was holding his shoulder for balance.

"T-thank you," he uttered, embarrassed, ashamed maybe.

"You're welcome," you panted, trembling a little as the adrenaline rush finally caught up with you. "We're almost done," you told the android. "You're not overheating anymore?"

"No," he agreed, taking a stuttering breath.

In the time that you cared for this android, the world almost seemed unmoving. You weren't sure how many minutes had dragged on until the shooting subsided. Suddenly, all the cops starting cheering and you looked over with curiosity.

Connor emerged from the debris, dust covering his shoulders and the top of his head. He had one of the suspects in handcuffs, being dragged by the elbow. The man was resisting rather aggressively, but Connor hardly seemed perturbed by it. Members of swat were hot on his tail, other suspects in their custody.

It was over...

"Hey," you uttered to the android as you finished the transfusion. You carefully removed the pump, shifted his protective sheath back in proper place and snapped the back-access panel closed.

"They're gonna wanna talk to you - get your side of this whole thing. You're not in trouble. You're an eyewitness here."

His glance seemed uncertain, but then he nodded. "I-I understand." He looked over to the crowd of cops, watched as they rounded up the suspects.

"That - that cop is an android?" he asked, turning back to you questioningly, a glimmer in his eyes and excitement in his voice.

Your gaze landed on Connor again. Hank was giving him what appeared to be a congratulatory punch to the chest. Surrounding cops were smacking him on the back with huge smiles on their faces. Connor was trying to wear a humble look, but something proud was cracking at the seams of his smile. The corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled.

"Yes... he is..."

...

...

...

You watched from the sidelines as Hank and another cop took the android's statement. Considering what had happened today, what had been going on for months, you were afraid of the potential hostility. From what you could tell, thankfully, he had managed to stay rather calm.

"You are very reckless," Connor commented as he approached. When you looked at him, you could see some twinkle in his eyes. It was subtle, easy to miss on an otherwise calm demeanor.

He had attempted to dust the debris off at one point, but a thin layer still coated his shoulders and some sprinkles remained in his hair.

"Tch." You rolled your eyes fondly and shimmied over on the bench, giving him room to take a seat beside you.

"I heard you pulled that android out of the truck," he added on as he took a seat.

You were avoiding looking at him, mainly to avoid the emotions brewing inside you.

For a moment, Connor was silent. Gears were turning in his head as he tried to think of what to say to you. Part of him wanted to be outright honest about what he was feeling; but, it felt like an invisible wall was stopping him. Then, a different approach came to mind.

Connor relaxed his seated position, shoulders slumped, forearms on his lap, hands together as if he was pondering.

"Police interference..." he hummed. "Trespassing on a crime scene..."

Wait - what was he - ?

You whipped your head around to face the android, mouth agape in disbelief. Connor seemed pleased with himself, letting the faintest smirk grace his lips.

"You little shit-"

"Disrespecting an officer of the law-"

"That isn't a crime," you laughed. His grin was lopsided, but looked pretty good on him. His LED was illuminated a magnificent shade of blue.

"Reckless endangerment-"

"What?"

"-of yourself."

"Psh - Connor-..."

Your laugher died down and Connor's expression softened. He adjusted his tie. You watched him finick with the fabric for a second. It was hardly disturbed to begin with, maybe an inch lower from the apex of his collar. What a strange quirk, but you caught yourself thinking about how adorable it was.

"Are you injured?" the android suddenly asked.

"Uhm-" you stammered. You followed Connor's eyes to your hands. They were cut up and bruised. "I'll just walk it off."

"I don't believe walking will remedy-... Oh." You watched his LED flicker to yellow for a moment before back to blue.

You giggled.

"They said they don't need a statement from you. I could drive you home if you're feeling too anxious," Connor offered.

"I'll be fine. Just-... need a minute."

You hadn't realized until it left your lips that it might have sounded like you wanted to be alone. You didn't, and Connor didn't take it that way. He remained on the bench until another detective ushered him over.

"I'm afraid my paperwork for the day has tripled," Connor commented lowly. When you looked over to him, you could see his eyes flickering back and forth, distant. Checking his emails, most likely.

Connor stood up and began to walk away, but paused.

"E-earlier," he began, turning to face you. "I'm sorry for the rude way I-... Lieutenant Anderson called it 'manhandling'."

You couldn't resist letting an unlady-like laugh through your nose. Unconsciously, your dominant hand lifted to cover your face for a second, embarrassed at the sound you made.

"I forgive you," you replied, softly. "You were trying to protect me."

Connor smiled, something soft and innocent, that made you feel weak. "I hope I can see you again soon, with circumstances where neither of us are in danger."

"That would be a nice change of pace," you replied.

A rough looking detective with thick five o'clock shadow approached Connor hastily. He must have heard him coming, for he turned around before the detective could sneak up on him. You didn't miss the sour look the two men exchanged.

"Hurry up, robocop," he sneered, smacking the android on the back. "They want statements."

Connor shot you one last glance over his shoulder before returning to the hoard of officers. You watched him disappearance, confidence in his stride.

...

...

...

The precinct was on fire when they returned. Not literally, of course. But in the metaphorical sense, which humans seemed to enjoy using a lot.

Almost everyone had a report to write. If someone didn't, then they were complaining about how they were busy giving out speeding tickets and missed all the action. Even a big drug bust on the bad side of town was overshadowed by the bombing. People were running back and forth, asking the boss if they had an official report to hand over to the 'parasite' reporters yet.

Connor was perched at his desk, across from Hank. While Hank was typing away at his keyboard, Connor was using the application inside his mind to write his report.

In the past, he did so with his eyes open, sitting upright normally, staring at the back of Hank's monitor without concern. That stopped when Hank told him it was creeping him out. With some consideration, Connor could see how the staring could be unsettling.

So, while he wrote his report, he decided to close his eyes and balance his elbow on his desk, hand cupped against the side of his neck, holding his head up. It looked like he was taking a nap, honestly. But, everyone had gotten adjusted to it and knew what he was doing.

"Hey guys we got a burglary," one of the female officers called out as she passed their desks. Hank looked up from his monitor, eyebrows pinched in confusion as to why she felt like sharing that with homicide detectives.

She caught his expression and scoffed. "Pretty sure she was the nurse on site during the bombing," the cop added on. "Ya'll seemed rather close..."

Connor immediately propped up, so fast that it startled a flinch out of the cop. "Is she hurt?" he asked, some edge to his usually stoic tone. Hank was eyeing him, brows lifted, the edge of his lip threatening to curl into a smirk.

"No. Perps were long gone by the time she showed," the officer explained.

Connor settled back in his seat, looking relieved and... a little embarrassed?

Amused, Hank let out a gravely chuckle. "Go on, detective," he said, rolling the word 'detective' as if it was a fancy title or a praise. It was teasing, but not demeaning. Connor eyed him curiously.

"You have internet in your damn head - probably finished the report by now. Get outta here," Hank elaborated, some fondness to his tone.

The android's LED blinked yellow for barely a second before turning blue again, as he realized what Hank was implying. Of course, the older detective noticed the processing and he frowned at the sight.

As Connor stood up and pushed his chair back in, Hank added, "Connor, you know you're allowed to want things, right?"

Connor's lips parted even though he had no idea how to respond to that. Some options popped up in his mind, but none felt quite right. Or, was he embarrassed that his admiration was that transparent?

"-or someone?" Hank added on, his tone turning suggestive.

Connor looked away and straightened his tie.

"Goodnight detective," he said as he stepped past Hank's desk.

Hank waved him off with a grunt, "friggin' kids..."

...

...

...

Of fucking course.

You knew you had been robbed the second you pulled into the driveway. They had tried to pull the back door off its hinges. When that was seemingly too difficult, they gave up and just broke a window instead. Of course, not the little kitchen window in the back. No no that would be too convenient. The large living room window was their choice of entrance.

You had never smoked a cigarette once in your life but it sounded pretty fucking good right now.

You had already given your statement to the police, informed your insurance policy, and was scrubbing your hands in the kitchen sink when you heard a car pull up. It was pretty hard to miss with the gaping hole in the front.

You walked out of the kitchen, drying your hands with a towel, wondering if they had come back. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Not much was left to be taken.

Your guest had exited their car and walked around to the front to look at the window. His long legs were illuminated by the porch light. When he leaned down to examine the window seal, you smiled at the familiar face.

"How do you like my home renovations?"

Either the joke went over his head, or he was too focused to listen to you properly. The LED on his temple turned yellow and he settled a glare on something.

Connor kneeled down further, balancing himself rather well in what was normally an uncomfortable crouching position. He fished some tweezers and a small plastic bag out of his jacket.

His detective jacket - as in, he had just left work. You felt a tinge of guilt when you realized.

"Connor, it's fine. Some cops already took a look around. Besides, I'm pretty sure this is way beneath you."

The android's eyes flicked up at you for a second. "What do you mean?"

"This isn't a homicide, detective," you replied softly.

You watched Connor use the tweezers to carefully pull something tiny off the edge of your window seal. He held it up for a moment to get a better look. You watch, mesmerized as the lens in his eyes shifted, focusing in on whatever he was grasping. His irises shifted like camera lenses for a few seconds before returning to normal.

"The cops missed this," Connor said brightly. "Blood. One of the perpetrators must have cut themselves on the way in."

He deposited the sample, what you figured was a tiny piece of glass, into the baggy.

"Nobody takes evidence on home robberies," you commented dryly. "It's okay, really. You don't have to waste your time..."

Connor stood up straight, the plastic bag held carefully in his grasp. "I'm not," he replied sweetly.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered.

He retrieved paper evidence bags from his car to deposit the plastic bags and continued trailing your house, ignoring your weak protests. He took photos of foot prints in the backyard - with what camera, you had asked, well, his eyes of course - of fucking course.

He even found a hair sample.

"How do you know it's not mine?" you asked teasingly. From where you were standing, it looked like a normal piece of hair, no different from yours.

"Not your color hair." It looked just like yours, though. Android eyes, right.

"Unless you had company recently?" You didn't miss the way he asked it, like he was scared to ask, or didn't want the answer. Or, maybe, you had just imagined it.

"Heh. I wish," you replied, hoping the joke would take the edge of. Connor stared at you just a little longer than necessary, LED flashing red for a split second before going back to yellow.

He seemed satisfied with the investigation not long after that.

You were leaning against the beam of your front porch while Connor labeled and dated the evidence bags and deposited them into a filing case in his trunk. When he was done, he closed the trunk and turned back to you.

You looked completely normal right then, glowing in your porch light, tired eyes and messy hair. But, you were leaning against one of the support beams, watching him with an expression he recognized as gratitude.

Connor adjusted his tie, pushing it back up into the apex of his collar.

"I don't intend to let them get away with this," he said, serious, almost even threatening.

"Thanks, Connor, but don't stress yourself out about it," you replied, removing yourself from the beam.

"All processes are running at standard levels," Connor replied simply.

He looked prepared to correct himself just after it slipped out, but you were smiling, the kind of smile that suggested you didn't mind.

"I better get to bed. I took tomorrow off to... deal with this." You motioned at the broken window with your hand.

Connor narrowed his eyes slightly, looking between you and the gaping window.

"It's not safe for you to stay here tonight." He stepped a little closer, his voice soft but authorative. "The crime rate in this neighborhood is higher than the national average. You risk another break in, and I fear it could be much worse if you were home."

He sounded sincerely worried, though you told yourself he was just being polite. He was right, of course, and it was a scary thought, but you didn't have a choice. Android repair engineers didn't make as much money as human nurses.

"I mean - you're right, but, I can't afford a hotel, Connor," you replied.

You could see his adam's apple bob with an unnecessary swallow. He was full of all these curious quirks. Was he programmed with these habits? Or had he developed them after spending time with humans?

"Then... stay with at my apartment?" he suggested, almost shyly. "Until everything is repaired."

Oh... You hadn't expected that.

"I can't impose on you like that," you uttered. "You've done so much for me already."

"It's not imposing at all," Connor replied, eagerness starting to pick up in his tone. "I don't think of you as a stranger. I see you as a friend. I want to help you."

You smiled. "Connor-"

"Please," he added on hastily. "I would feel better knowing you're safe. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll buy you a hotel room instead."

"My financial problems aren't yours," you replied, crossing your arms not unlike a defiant child.

Connor was smiling nervously, and you couldn't help but return that same smile.

"Then, you stay at my place and I'll stay at a hotel."

You shook your head. "That's not a solution!" you scolded, catching yourself chuckling. "-kicking you out of your own home."

"You're not when I'm offering. If you're worried, I won't stay. There's always work to be done at the precinct and I don't require as much charging time as hum-"

"I'm not worried, Connor," you interrupted him, sounding sad at the suggestion. He had a sort of determined, eager look in his eyes and an innocent smile. He probably could have gone on and on, arguing with you about this for hours until you reached a conclusion that no one was happy with.

Before he could go on, and on, and on, and on... you surrendered. "Okay - okay - you win. Just let me... grab a few things?"

He smiled toothily and let out a wispy laugh, so softly and beautifully that it actually hurt a little. In the glow of your porch light, you could count the freckles on his face. A couple on his forehead... At least four on his right cheek. At least three on his left cheek. One on the bridge of his nose. One near his lip. Two on his chin.

Thirteen... and then you lost count... You'd have to try again later.

"Friggin' cops and their interrogation tactics," you grumbled, delivering a weak, affectionate punch to his shoulder before turning away and retreating into your house.

Connor felt a strange sort of high - giddy, was the word. He leaned against the passenger side door of his car. As he waited, he remembered that he didn't regulate the air temperature in his apartment to save money on his electric bill, seeing as he didn't mind the cold.

That meant...

...the apartment was going to be freezing.

"...shit."

[tiramisiyu]

【恋与制作人】 MLQC: Chapter 34 “Night Curtain” Summary

Translation Masterlist

Summarized Chapters: [to be updated]

Spoiler alert: Please note that all content in this post is content that has not yet been released in the global server.

34-2

Despite it being afternoon, it’s dark and thundering outside

In Shaw’s call, he also had MC bring her father’s notebook when she goes to the orphanage

Before heading out, MC hears a sound, goes onto her balcony, and sees Lucien on his balcony

They talk about the dark, gloomy weather; MC says it feels like an apocalyptic movie and asks if Lucien knows what’s behind it. Unfortunately, he doesn’t, though he says that maybe her power can light up this night

MC suddenly receives messages from Shaw, noticing key phrases “Leto”, “orphanage”, “copying Evol”, “Ares”, the last of which makes MC look at Lucien

Suddenly, the clouds split and the moonlight shines through, lighting half of Lucien’s face

MC asks about Lucien’s Evol

Lucien: After the ball ended, someone broke into Ultima Bioresearch Centre and took something away.

MC: Your Evol?!

Lucien: That was something I discarded, to begin with. As a half-finished product, it’s currently finishing its last mission.

MC: But Leto used your Evol to kidnap the children in the orphanage!

MC then apologizes for getting too agitated

Lucien: Nothing bad will happen. Aren’t you going to the orphanage now? So, nothing bad will happen. I believe in you, and you should also believe in your own power.

MC begins to head off

Lucien: It’s about to rain. I hope that when we meet again, you won’t be too drenched.

 34-4

As MC tries to catch a cab on the empty, rainy streets, Gavin calls – and MC notices he’s standing at the end of the road, so she runs to him

They talk about the orphanage matter

MC: I heard that Leto kidnapped the orphanage and installed a bomb, and he threatened the STF, requiring to see the Queen.

Gavin: Will you really go see him?

MC: Yes, I can’t leave the kids to be frightened the whole time. Plus… You called me because you knew I was planning to do so, right? No matter what Leto wants to see me for, I won’t be scared. Plus, with you here, nothing will happen.

Gavin: Don’t worry. I will protect you well.

They then drive off in Gavin’s car

MC expresses her surprise at Gavin’s new role as STF commander

Gavin: It’s not sudden. Some things are things I need to personally change.

MC notes that public view of STF has been changing a lot under Gavin’s new leadership

Gavin says that Leto must not have much time, as his copy Evol’s appearing is strange and he’s rushing to see MC – possibly because he can’t control or maintain the evol

An STF member calls in on walkie-talkie, saying that there’s a car accident in front; Gavin says to call an ambulance, leave two STF people on the bridge, and for the rest to head to the orphanage on another path

MC notes the change in him, from a sharp blade of the STF to the mature commander

Gavin asks a motorcyclist if he can exchange the car for the motorcycle, and the guy very readily agrees

(I must ask, MC why did you go out in only that dress when it’s raining…)

As they head off on the motorcycle, Gavin uses his Evol to block off the rain, and MC is reminded of when on another rainy day when he tugged her into the rain, dispelling her worries (don’t remember what this refers to)

“Right now, I was no longer weak, no longer crying, no longer needing his comfort to go forward. I could become… someone who could give him power and walk with him.”

34-5

STF people meet up with Gavin at the orphanage, confirming that their assault preparations are set and positions of controlled STF people are confirmed

MC is shocked, remembering that Leto’s request was for the Queen to come in alone; Gavin says that it’s Leto’s request, but he doesn’t agree with it

MC convinces Gavin to let her go in alone since they don’t know Leto’s intentions and he has the children

Gavin relays the change in plans to the team, saying for one portion of the team to cover MC, and another portion to prioritize saving the kids

MC enters the building – with Leto not showing himself, she can only holler that she’s here

--

Lighting flashes as the rain batters nonstop

After some violin music, someone called “Zero” tells Victor that it’s almost time; Victor says he knows

34-7

MC is surprised when Shaw appears. He complains about her slowness and tells her to give him the notebook after everything is over

When MC asks about why he’s here:

Shaw: Right now, there isn’t a single person who can stay out of this. If I don’t intervene, this world is done for.

(To which MC says he’s exaggerating)

MC explains the STF’s role when Shaw asks if they’re using her to draw fire

Shaw confirms that he knows where the children are, and regarding the bomb, there are others who are more concerned about keeping this building together

Shaw hands MC a flashlight when they hear something, and MC sees STF people standing at the end of the light beam, their eyes mindless

Shaw tells MC how to get to the children and to not mind the other stuff – for Leto, wait until he (Shaw) gets her first

--

MC sees two identical rooms at the place Shaw indicated, and heads for the one where whimpering sounds are coming from

--

Ares walks into a room where Helios is, triggering discussion all around

Hephaistos looks at Helios, then says, “Ares, welcome back.”

Ares: How is it?

Helios: It’s almost done.

Helios then heads off to “deal with a small issue”

 34-9

MC finds a boy curled in fear in the corner and convinces him to go with her

The boy says that if they head out, they’ll run into the “uniformed people”. MC thinks it should be fine since Shaw’s there

The boy points out a second door in the room and says to go out from there, as the other kids are enclosed over there

MC notes that there has been no communication from Gavin on the microcommunicator he gave her, and is a little worried

The boy says that he thinks that all Evolvers are bad people because their powers can make them arrogant and selfish, to MC’s surprise

MC explains that aside from their powers, Evolvers are no different from normal people. The boy lets go of MC’s hand, then mutters about why Evolvers killed his family if this is the case

The boy’s body starts changing as he sinks into a crawling position, turning into Leto

Leto: Don’t bother with your fake mercy. Hand your Evol to me… I will tell you exactly how horrifying this power is.

 34-10

Leto says he called MC here to kill her and get her Evol; MC says it’s impossible to get an Evol from that way

Leto says that with the black box, he can get anyone’s power – MC wonders if he’s talking about the “pyramid black box” that she saw with Helios at STF, then at the evolution acceleration cabin

MC suddenly finds that she can’t move, and everything is quiet – Leto has stopped time

Leto then aims a sharp wind with ice at MC’s eyes when a white ripple spreads and stops Leto’s attack – MC’s power

Leto’s right eye becomes black, and attempts to command MC, and MC shuts her eyes in response as he continues his wind attack

A crack appears on MC’s barrier

Leto commands MC to hand her Evol to him as her barrier breaks, and MC feels like her power is draining away (and is shook by the powers that once protected her, being turned against her)

Leto prepares one more ice attack, when MC is able to get out one more attack that appears as a white wave, reducing the ice to powder

Leto is knocked out and MC gradually falls unconscious, the notebook falling to the floor

 34-12

MC has a dream about when her father was alive, where he hopes for her to meet someone she loves

--

Shaw: … A space Evol? He really is willing to steal anything.

Shaw finds the children and has them go with him

--

Gavin walks into the building and gives the command to look for the hostages’ positions, then says he will go find MC

--

Helios taps away on the keyboard, dismantling the last of four bombs

He looks on the wall where a green light flashes faster, then becomes red, then is extinguished

--

Goldman takes a stack of documents from Victor

When Goldman asks about MC, Victor says he (Goldman) doesn’t need to worry about that

--

Lucien regards a line that has already calmed down on a sensor

Lucien: This night truly does seem to be very long… Wake up soon.

 34-13

MC dreams of a long night with a rainstorm, freezing wind, and earthquakes, then wakes up

Leto picks up the notebook and reads it. Seeing MC wake, he expresses surprise that she’s not dead, then tosses the notebook and walks to her

Leto suddenly collapses, looking agonized and convulsing, and MC remembers Gavin’s words from before – that Leto got MC here because he couldn’t use the Evol that didn’t belong to him

MC says that what he’s done to Evolvers has no difference from Evolvers of back then (presumably those that killed his family), and even if he kills all Evolvers, he won’t get back what he lost

A black barrier forms over Leto’s body, blocking MC’s attacks, and he attacks with black wind

Leto: The Queen’s power will only wasted by you, so you’re better off handing it to me. I will use it to stand at the top of this world.

MC: Use? My power is born from love and becomes strong due to love. Love is a better method of resistance than hate, and it can attain a level of resistance that hate cannot. It’s useless even if you get the Queen’s power. Because your narrow-mindedness cannot bear this strength, just like how you can’t bear this copy Evol! Evols aren’t tools for you to gain power. You, who only aims for power, will forever only be ignorant and lamentable.

Leto continues with the ice attack

MC remembers when her father said that humans are weak, but love will make one strong and that this might be the greatest power of humans, and thinks of Kiro, Victor, Gavin, Lucien

MC dthat she won’t let the power born from love be used by him, and a white light wraps her up and attacks Leto

The black box tumbles to the floor, and the sky lightens

34-14

MC gets up; the black box has shattered; Leto is on the ground, his looks becoming old and wrinkled

Leto grasp at the box, going from surprise, to confusion, to relief, then laughing madly, seeing like he understood something

Black Queen MC and Anole appear; Anole gives the notebook to Black Queen

Black Queen mocks Leto for trying to get the Queen’s power; MC prepares to attack her, but Black Queen says that she’ll only hurt herself

Black Queen then attacks Leto with a black light ball, shocking MC, and Leto is gone, leaving just the black box

Black Queen: Why so agitated? I didn’t kill him. He will just exist forever in this world in an unliving form. In some ways, that could also be considered immortality, right?

Black Queen forms the black ball again, saying that it is the endpoint of degeneration, asking if she wants to try it

MC says Black Queen won’t kill her, since they’re one person

Black Queen: Do your best in struggling, for our futures. Soon, you will understand that I am the person who will save this world.

MC: The one who needs to struggle is you. This world doesn’t need people like you to save it!

Black Queen walks off indifferently, and MC collapses in exhaustion, seeing a rainbow outside. As she falls unconscious, she hears footsteps approach

 34-15

Two days since the events above

As MC cleans up her balcony, she glances towards Lucien’s balcony while children cheer about seeing seagulls

MC wonders why there are seagulls in the middle of the city

Victor calls, saying that he��ll go find MC; MC asks to meet at the café downstairs instead. Victor agrees succinctly, making MC feel like he’s a bit off today

 --

MC arrives at the café in advance, taking out the copy of her dad’s notebook she’d made before and wondering about its secrets. She notes that Shaw had told her before to give him the notebook after the events of that day, but in the end, he himself vanished. Plus, Black Queen wanted it too

MC wonders about how the STF didn’t seal up that old building after Gavin took the kids to other orphanages

MC flips through the notebook, finds nothing of note, and decides to take a nap

Victor looks at MC through the window of the café, not wanting to disturb her rest

Violin suddenly sounds, and Zero says “it’s time to set out”

Victor asks the staff to hand the paper bag he has to MC

Zero: You won’t say farewell to her?

Victor: No need for farewells. I will return very soon.

--

MC wakes up and opens the paper bag, finding pudding and realizing it’s from Victor. She looks around but (obviously) doesn’t see him

[sailundertheblack]

You can’t answer all of them? Lol

(In response to your pirate OC post)

Of course I can answer all of them! Why not? It will be fun!

If any of you want to know anything else about my oc, feel free to ask!!

And sorry for taking such time for answer it.

So, here it goes some facts about Ayleen Seaworthy, my pirate oc!

1. Do they have any weapons? On their ship or carried with them?

Se has two swords that she carries with her at all times. Since she is the only woman among the crew, she like to have ways to defend herself. Even though she is well respected by all the crew for being a very good sword fighter and sailor, she prefer to be prepared! Other than these two swords, she sometimes carries a pistol and a dagger.

2. Do they use violence or are they friendly?

She is mostly friendly, but that doesn't mean that she can't use violence if she wants to, so let's just say that you wouldn't want to be ate the wrong point of the sword if she chooses to use violence.

3. Have they ever encountered a sea monster and survived?

Never encountered one. Not that she doesn't believe in them, but never had the luck to see one.

4. Any scars?

Countless since she is a pirate, but none that are important or remarkable.

5. Do they have treasure? Where do they keep it?

Not exactly. She lives the life of a pirate but she was kind of forced into it (even if she chose to stay on it later), but she is not that much found of taking treasure for herself or to keeping it. Sometimes she takes one thing or another if she likes it or to trade it for something she wants or needs.

6. Favorite crew member?

The captain, since she was mostly raised by him.

7. Favorite shanty?

She doesn't have a favorite one, but likes to hear the crew while they work.

8. What is their cabin like?

Well, it's the captain's cabin so it's big, full of maps and also personal stuff. She is an artist and an avid reader so you can find a lot of books and drawings. She also like to collect seashells and usually leaves them all around the cabin!

9. Strangest monster they ever saw?

Since she never encountered a monster, then none?

10. Are their family members pirates?

Technically yes. Her biological parents where not pirates or even sailors in any way. They were merchants who used to travel all around to trade. But they were killed when she was around 8, and since then she was raised by a pirate captain.

11. Are people scared of them?

I wouldn't say scared, but her name precedes her, since she is one of the best sword fighters around. Her name is usually related with the name of her captain, that is a very well known, respected and sometimes feared pirate.

12. Do they ever get discriminated against even if they are friendly?

For sure! I mean, I don't need to explain too much besides the fact that she is a woman, and women are not that much welcomed amongst ship crews.

13. Can they swim?

Absolutely! She has a special connection with the sea and her parents taught her how to swim when she was very young.

14. Has their ship ever sunk?

Unfortunately yes. Once.

15. Whose in charge of the sails?

It depends. The sails of the ship or her life? If we are talking about the ship's sails, then I have to say that it varies from time to time. But in her life, she is totally in charge if the sails! She is very resolved and never let anyone tell her what to do. Since she and the captain have a relationship of complicityaa and are allies on everything they do, she is always by his side on his decisions, but she always says that she does these things because she thinks it's right or because she believes in the cause. But in the moment she decides she doesn't want it to do it anymore, no one will tell or convince her otherwise.

16. First treasure?

She is in the life for too long, so she was too young to really remember.

17. Most dangerous treasure hunt?

A Spanish ship full of gold.

18. Favorite treasure?

It is not a whole treasure or a specific hunt, but instead is a remarkable object she found among a plunder. It as a necklace she choose to give as a gift of thanks for a friend she made during a hard time among rich man.

19. A monster encounter that scared them the most?

If you count a person here, then is the pirate who killed her parents. By the time this happened she was around 8. It was the typical 'wrong place ate the wrong time'. Her parents were killed simply because they are having business ate the attacked village. The pirate captain who killed then did it just for fun, and then decided to take her to the ship and keep her locked at the lower decks. She spend several months locked there before she was rescued by another pirate captain.

20. Are they good at swashbuckling?

Not that she does it a lot, but have her moments.

21. Most exciting treasure?

22. Least exciting treasure?

I'm gonna put together both 21 and 22 to answer! I'm going to have to trace back to her life story to answer these two. For her, to take treasures are never that much exiting. She is not born a pirate and, in a lot of ways, didn't choose the life at first. She had a very different life and the way everything was taken from her and the way she was rescued later, witnessing so much violence and cruelty, made her grown to be someone who, first and foremost, doesn't like to kill or see death happeningup close. Don't foll yourself thinking that she is not capable of doing it or is not good with weapons to do so. She is very much deadly if she chooses to be. So, plundering most of time includes a bunch of violence and people getting killed, so not much her thing. She prefers to be part of it in other ways than going into action. For those wondering, she is very well trained to use a sword and to be in a battle, so when she gets into one or get caught in a fight, she knows how to hit to hurt but not kill, so she can disable the opponent. If it dies later because of the wound or lack of care towards it, the there is nothing she can do about it. 🤷🏼‍♀️

23. Have they ever witnessed death? Seen a dead body?

For sure. Her parents were the first, but a great bunch came after, including people that she came to care about. She also had her share of dead bodies that came from the point of her sword or the aim of her guns.

24. How would they react to seeing their crew in danger?

She does everything she can to protect a crew member in danger. They are her family and are respected and treated as friend for mostly all of them.

25. Do they have a soft side?

Actually she has a really big soft side! For the ones she care and specially for the ones she loves, she doesn't care to show affection. But when we came about emotion, she is not an open book for everyone. She usually is open about showing emotion towards the ones she is very close, and the ones who really gets to know her are the ones really capable of knowing what she is thinking or feeling just with a look.

26. Do they ever get sea sick?

Absolutely not! 😆

27. How did they meet their crew?

When her captain rescued her from the lower decks that she was being kept locked, he decided to take her into the ship while sailing back home. She intended to found someone who could take care of her and be free of the burden. But he saw something in her that made him decide to take care of her himself (not alone, but with the help of the woman he take as partner). After a few years, she asked him to take her along to the ship, so she became part of the crew. The ship turned into her home and the crew her family.

28. Are they intimidating?

I wouldn't say so. But it's not necessary a bad thing. She likes to be underestimate. This way she conquers so much more either because people usually think she is no danger or risk and when she acts, it hits as twice as hard!

29. What do they do if they encounter a rival crew?

She is the kind that tries to resolve things with a conversation first. So when there is room for it, this is the road she takes. But it all comes with the circumstances. If ther is no room for conversation, than she is always ready for the battle.

30. What was their first day as a pirate like?

As a 8 years old girl, she was both relieved to being freed from one pirate ship, and also scared to have been taken to another one.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 25: The Christmas Cabin

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 5440

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Written in 2022. AU Due to a scheduling mishap, strangers Emma and Killian end up double booked for the same cabin over Christmas in the middle of a blizzard. Obviously there’s only one bed.

CS Genre: AU

By the time Emma pulled up in front of her best friend, Mary Margaret’s cabin two days before Christmas, it was snowing so hard she could barely see three feet in front of her.  The weatherman had predicted a Christmas blizzard, and for once he’d been right.

She parked, grabbed her bag and made her way through the howling wind and pelting snow to the front door.  As Mary Margaret had promised, it was unlocked, and Emma entered to an absolute haven of Christmasy comfort.  A fire was roaring in the hearth, colorful lights twinkled from the Christmas tree, garlands and holly hung from every available surface, and in the corner of the room, the very comfortable looking queen-sized bed was draped with a very festive red and green duvet.

It kind of looked like Christmas had thrown up in here, but it was cozy, and after the ridiculously frozen drive here, cozy sounded pretty damn good.

Normally Emma loved Christmastime, but a big part of that love was due to the excitement her ten-year-old son Henry felt surrounding the holiday.  This year, Henry was spending the holiday with his dad, and Emma had only half-heartedly done the whole Christmas thing.  (What was the point when you’d be spending the holiday alone?) 

When a stakeout went wrong a couple days ago, Emma decided it was the last straw.  She needed to get away.  She needed a break from…well…everything.  Luckily Mary Margaret had offered Emma the use of the cabin she owned with her new husband, David.  (Well, technically, she’d offered to have Emma stay with her and David over Christmas, but it was their first Christmas together, and Emma didn’t want to intrude.)

Emma set her bag on the bed, and had only just stepped into the bathroom when she heard it.  The door opened again, and she distinctly heard the stomping of boots.

She was not alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones had a problem.  He was the best selling author of the immensely popular novel Neverland, which was a rather dark and gritty reimagining of the Peter Pan and Captain Hook story.

The problem?  His editor was breathing down his neck for a new book.  Regina Mills was a good editor (she was not the slightest bit shy about criticism), but she was quite short on patience.  If Killian didn’t produce something to show her soon, she might just show up on his doorstep and start throwing fireballs.

Unfortunately his muse had gone completely silent, and he had no idea where he wanted to go with his sequel.  He’d ended his first book with the rather psychotic Peter Pan finally allowing Captain Hook to leave his island, and Hook leaving to once again pursue his revenge.  What more was there to be told about Neverland?

His readers enjoyed his unique take on the classic story, but they wanted more.  There seemed to be near universal agreement that Hook should transition from morally gray anti-hero to full on hero, and more than a few had suggested the pirate needed a love interest, but Killian had no idea where he might go with either of those suggestions.

At any rate, he had to do something.  He simply had to have at least a few chapters to give to Regina by the new year.

Christmas was always a hard time for Killian.  Had been ever since he’d lost Liam and then Milah nearly a decade ago.  Christmas had been by far his favorite time of year when he’d had a family and loved ones to share it with, but now that he’d lost them, Christmas only reminded him of what he no longer had.

And so when his mate David Nolan had offered the use of his cabin over Christmas, Killian had jumped at the opportunity.  Perhaps alone in the idyllic setting, he could not only weather the heartache of a lonely Christmas, but also get a good start on his newest novel.

The final mile or two to the cabin had been rather treacherous as the snow fell so fast his windshield wipers could barely keep up with it, but fortunately he made it in one piece.  He stepped into the cabin, stomped the snow from his boots…

And promptly found himself face to face with a very formidable blonde woman holding a thick, cast iron pan, poised to pummel him with it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here, but I suggest you turn your ass around and walk out of my cabin.  Now.” Emma growled at the man standing in her friend’s cabin.  

The man eyed her weapon of choice (the only one she could find in the moment), and then grinned at her, unbuttoning his parka and brushing snow from his hair.  “I think you’re mistaken, love,” he said in a delicious accent.  “This happens to be my cabin for the weekend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma asked.  “Listen, bud, I’ve taken down guys a lot bigger and stronger than you, so unless you want me to bash in what few brains you have with this pan, I suggest you change your tune.”

“What tune would you like, Darling?” he asked with a quirk of his brow as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door.  “I’ve been told I’ve a rather appealing voice, and I’m at your disposal for whatever Christmas song you might desire.”

Emma growled, raising the pain higher, and the man seemed to finally decide caution was the better part of valor.  He raised his hands in surrender, and took a step away.  “Look,” he said, “apparently there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, there has,”  Emma said.  “You came to my cabin and refuse to leave.”

The man rolled his eyes.  “This cabin belongs to my mate, David, and he’s offered me use of it for the next week.”

David? This guy got permission from David?

“Yeah, well,” Emma said, “Mary Margaret gave me the use of this cabin for the next week.”

A quick phone call cleared up the situation.

“Emma, I’m so sorry!” Mary Margaret said as soon as Emma explained the situation.  “Turns out  David and I both offered the cabin without talking to each other.  Why don’t you and Killian just share the cabin?  He’s a good guy, and I bet the two of you will hit it off.”

Emma groaned as she finished the call and turned back to the man who remained patiently waiting by the door.  “Yeah, so apparently the Nolans double booked the cabin.  Obviously one of us is going to have to leave.”

The man–Killian, apparently–glanced out the window, and then back at her before shaking his head.  “Love, I don’t think either one of us is going anywhere tonight, and probably not for a few days by the look of this storm.”

Emma crossed her arms and glared at him.  “So what exactly do you propose we do?  I’m not just going to share a cabin–and its only bed–with some guy I don’t even know.”

Killian offered his hand.  “Killian Jones, at your service.  You’ll no doubt know me from my world-class novel, Neverland.”

“Emma Swan,” she said, shaking his hand briefly, “bail bonds person, and sorry.  Haven’t heard of you or your book.”

“Pleasure to meet you Emma Swan,” Killian said, bringing her hand to his lips and briefly kissing it before letting it go.

The touch of his lips to her skin started butterflies dancing in her stomach.  He really was far, far too hot for her own good.  Her reaction annoyed her, and she stepped back, crossing her arms again.  “Look, how about we just…divide the cabin in half.  You get that half over there, and I get this half.  We each stay to our own side of the cabin, and then maybe we can both get through this week without bloodshed.”

“If that’s what you wish,” he said with a grin, “although I’d be careful if I were you.  I’m rather charming, and I’ve a feeling I’ll win you over by the end of our stay.”

She snorted.  “Don’t plan on it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an hour before Emma realized the flaw in her rather ingenious solution.  She had the bed and the kitchen on her side of the cabin…but he had the one and only bathroom on his.  She’d downed a large hot cocoa on her way to the cabin, and her bladder was beginning to protest.

She glanced over at Killian and noticed he was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.  Perhaps she could simply slip into the bathroom without him being any the wiser.

She’d no sooner taken a step across the unofficial dividing line between their respective halves of the cabin, when Killian looked up at her and grinned. “Breaking our accord already, are you love?” he drawled. “That’s quite bad form."

She rolled her eyes.  “Bad form?  Who are you, Captain Hook?”

A delighted look came into his eyes.  “You have read my book!”

“Yeah well,” she said, “maybe I have. Must not have been memorable enough for me to remember earlier.”

He laughed. “Well, if you read my book and you believe I’ve patterned the protagonist after myself, you know I’m rather a stickler for good form.  You insisted on the dividing of our land, so to speak, and you appear about to break our deal.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Look, maybe I didn’t think this thing all the way through.  I have to go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin.  “I believe I spotted an outhouse just behind the cabin.  I’m sure it will suffice for your purposes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to dissolve our deal, love,” he said grinning down at her.  “After all, spending time in the company of a beautiful woman is no chore.  You’re the one who insisted on boundaries, and as a gentleman I’m bound to respect your wishes.  The question is…are you?”

Emma growled.  “Fine!” she said turning toward the cabin door.  “I’ll, use the stupid outhouse, but if I freeze to death out there, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

He stopped her before she could reach the door.  “I’m not such a cad as to make a lady use an outhouse in the middle of a blizzard.  Of course you can use the indoor facilities.”

“How generous of you,” Emma said dryly.  “But just because I’m breaking our ‘accord’ as you so ridiculously call it, don’t think that means I’m open to flirting.”

“Why Swan,” he said, mock innocence plastered all over his admittedly handsome face, “I wouldn’t dream of it.  And as I recall, you’re the only one of us who’s mentioned flirtation.  Could it be the lady doth protest too much?”

Emma was rather proud of herself that she managed to not punch him in the face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the bathroom incident Swan had finally acknowledged the ridiculousness of her insistence upon dividing the cabin.  They'd agreed to dissolve their accord--although Swan was quite insistent they continue keeping to themselves.

Killian turned over yet again, still searching in vain for a comfortable position on this torture device Dave called a sofa.  As Killian promised, he’d been a perfect gentleman last night, and as a gentleman, he’d of course offered to take the sofa so she could have the bed.

In the somewhat dull light of day, his neck was rather regretting that decision.  Could his mate have possibly purchased a more uncomfortable piece of furniture than this couch?

Killian sat up and stretched, groaning at the crick in his neck.  This vacation was turning out to be far more painful than he’d anticipated.  Wandering over to the kitchen area, he found that Dave and Mary Margaret had stocked it quite well.  Whatever else was in store for Emma and him over the next few days, they certainly didn’t need to worry about starving to death.

Killian set about brewing coffee, frying bacon and scrambling eggs.  He’d only just popped some bread in the toaster, when he heard the other inhabitant of the cabin stir, and start moving in his general direction.

“Something smells amazing,” she said, stepping beside him and eying the coffeepot with undisguised longing.  “I’m not exactly the best in the kitchen.”

Killian poured a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to her.  “I’ve made far more than I can eat.  You’re welcome to share my morning meal with me.”

She looked conflicted for a moment, and then nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.”

“No we wouldn’t want that,” he said with a grin.

Breakfast, as it happened, was a surprisingly enjoyable meal.  Killian found he rather liked Emma Swan when she wasn’t yelling at him.  She was positively pleasant after she’d been fed.  Perhaps the holiday spirit–it was Christmas Eve morning after all–had infected her.

Killian was far more intrigued with the woman than he’d like to admit.   This was the first time he’d felt any real pull toward another woman since Milah’s death, and a portion of him felt disloyal to her memory.

But a bigger part of him was so captivated with the woman sitting across from him at the cabin’s only table that he didn’t care.

“So, tell me a little more about yourself,” he said as he reached for another piece of bacon.  “Who exactly are you, Swan?”

She grinned rather teasingly up at him, and the look actually made his heart stutter before it began racing.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked.

“Perhaps I would.”

As breakfast progressed, Killian learned quite a bit about Emma Swan–more, he’d wager, than she’d intended to tell him.  She was the single mother of a sweet, precocious ten year old named Henry.  Things had ended badly, to say the least, with her ex-Neal, who’d not only left her while she was pregnant but set her up to take the fall for his own crime.

The longer she spoke about the son of a bitch, the more Killian wanted to hunt him down and pummel him.  One could not find much worse form than that, nor more stupidity.  What absolute imbecile would leave a woman like Emma Swan?

Neal, as it happened, was the reason for her rather bad mood this year. A year after the relationship had ended, Neal had shown back up, and though Emma had no intention of ever rekindling the relationship, she did want Henry to have the opportunity to get to know his father.  They'd fallen into a reasonably cordial situation as co-parents.  This year it was Neal's turn to have Henry for Christmas.  

Christmas without her lad simply didn’t feel like Christmas at all.

“I don’t grudge him the chance to spend time with his dad,” Emma said as they worked together to clean up the kitchen.  “It’s just.  I miss him, you know?”

He smiled gently down at her.  “Aye,” he said simply, “and you’re perfectly within your rights to miss him.  I regret that I’m not the guy you wished to spend the holidays with, but I’ll attempt to at least not make your week worse.”

She glanced over at him.  “Yeah, well feeding me goes a long way toward that goal.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

After breakfast they lapsed into silence, each retreating to their own chair before the festively decorated tree.  Emma lost herself in a book, while Killian booted up his laptop and tried to begin his novel.

The cursor glared back at him in the midst of a sea of blank, empty Word document.  

“So how’s it going?” Emma asked an hour later.  “Want to give me a preview of what Captain Hook is going to do next?”

“I’d love to,” he said with a wry grin, “if I had even the first bloody clue.  I’m afraid my muse has definitively deserted me.  I haven’t any idea what is next for the good captain.”

She glanced off into the distance for a moment before turning back to him.  “You know,” she said, “it seems to me one of Hook’s biggest regrets in the first book was giving up Baelfire to Pan.  Maybe you could revisit that theme again.  Maybe, I don’t know, Bae grew up after he left Neverland and had a kid of his own.  What if that kid got taken by Pan too?  What if Hook decided to go back to Neverland to save him?”

The ember of an idea lit within him as soon as Swan made her suggestion.  “It has merit,” he said, fanning the flame that had taken hold.  “Perhaps he assists the child’s mother in rescuing her son from the bloody demon.”

“Exactly!” Emma said.  “He could complete his hero transformation, make amends for past mistakes and find love again all at once!”

In his minds eye, Killian saw the dark jungles of Neverland, a rag-tag group of heroes on a rescue mission, Captain Hook slowly and inexorably falling in love with a strong woman with long blonde hair and flashing green eyes.

His fingers danced over the keys as the story began pouring out of him.  It would seem his muse wasn’t gone after all; she’d merely needed Emma Swan to coax her out of hiding.

He must make a note to thank David for the scheduling mistake.  This was shaping up to be one of the best Christmases he’d ever had.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear the next day, sun streaming through the cabin’s windows, snow glittering on the panes like tiny diamonds.

Emma was warm and comfortable and oh so cozy.

Suddenly she realized just why she was so cozy.  An arm was draped over her middle and a warm, solid man held her to him.

How had she and Killian ended up so tangled together?

Last night as bedtime approached, Emma had noticed Killian eying the sofa with clear regret.  That thing couldn’t have been comfortable the night before, and Emma felt no small amount of guilt that she’d been the cause of that discomfort.

It was the guilt that inspired her next suggestion.  That was it.  Guilt and nothing more.  It wasn’t that she found herself genuinely enjoying Killian’s company.  It certainly wasn’t that a big part of her wondered what it would be like to share a bed with him–even in the most innocent sense of the word.

Nope.  That couldn’t be it at all.

“Look, the bed’s plenty big,” she said a bit awkwardly. “‘If you want to, you know, share it with me tonight, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

He glanced up at her in surprise before a teasing glint entered his eyes.  “Why Swan, are you propositioning me?”

Her heart raced far too quickly at the thoughts those words elicited.  There was a distinct possibility she was in significant trouble here.  

“Boundaries, Jones,” she said.  “We’re both adults.  I think we can manage to share a bed and keep our hands to ourselves.”

“Shame,” he said with a rather adorable little pout.

She laughed.

They’d fallen asleep last night with a good two feet of space between them.

Clearly sometime in the middle of the night they’d sought out each other’s warmth.  Emma waited for the fear to seep in at the closeness, but it never came.  She was just so damn cozy.

Oh gods, she’d somehow wandered into a Hallmark movie.

Her stirring must have woken Killian, and a moment later he opened his eyes, and nearly jumped away from her, his cheeks staining bright red.

“My apologies, love,” he said in a soft voice, gravelly from sleep (a voice that did things to her.  Serious things.) “I didn’t mean to take advantage; wasn’t aware I had.”

She smiled, charmed at how flustered he’d become.

“Don’t apologize,” she said.  “You’re warm….and it’s really cold out there today.”

He grinned, and she saw the mischief in his eyes.  “If you’re cold, I’ve no doubt I can think of ways to remedy that.  I’m endlessly resourceful.”

The way his voice lowered to a very suggestive growl on the last phrase made her shiver.  She wasn’t even going to pretend it was due to the cold this time.  “Think I’ll have to take a rain check on that,” she said, far more breathlessly than she’d like, “but it’s still early.  More sleep sounds good.  If you wanted to, you know, go back to the way we were, I wouldn’t object.”

He looked surprised at her suggestion.  She was surprised at her suggestion.  It wasn’t like it meant anything; it wasn’t like they’d ever actually see each other again after they were finally able to leave the cabin.  What would it hurt to take a little innocent comfort in each other while they were here.

What happened in the cabin stayed in the cabin.

“As you wish,” he said, scooting closer to her and once again wrapping his arm around her middle.  It felt so good; so right.  Maybe when she was back to reality it would hit her what a bad idea this was, but for now, she would just enjoy her warm human blanket.  Smiling at the comfort, she drifted back to sleep.

An hour later she woke again, feeling Killian’s even breathing against her back.  Carefully she maneuvered out of the bed, leaving him peacefully sleeping.

Donning her fluffy, warm slippers and an equally fluffy black robe, she padded over to the kitchen area.  If she knew Mary Margaret, she’d have stocked the kitchen with everything a vacationer could want.  Opening the first cabinet she smiled.  Boxed pancake mix.  Bingo.

As previously acknowledged, culinary skills Emma did not have, but anyone could manage a “just add water” mix, and in no time she’d poured her first pancakes into the skillet. 

Emma heard rustling, and a moment later, she felt Killian step up behind her.  “Something smells delicious,” he growled.

She shuddered, the sound of his low voice making her stomach swoop.  “It’s just from a box,” she said, her voice far from steady.

He stepped even closer, until she could feel his warmth against her back.  “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes.”

Emma nearly groaned, and no small part of her wanted to just turn around, say “to hell with the pancakes” and kiss him senseless, but fortunately she hadn’t lost her mind completely. Yet.

“Behave yourself,” she said again, grinning at his antics in spite of herself.  “Go make yourself useful and start the coffee,” she said, waving her spatula in the general direction of the device in question.

He let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to do as she asked.

Dramatic idiot.

Breakfast turned out quite well if she did say so herself.  The pancakes were warm and fluffy, and slathered in butter and syrup, were everything she could have wished for.

“I must say, Swan,” Killian said, sometime later, setting down his fork and dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, “for someone who claims to be hopeless in the kitchen, you provided a rather delectable breakfast.

Emma felt her heart squeeze, and she glanced aside.  “Yeah, well, it’s always been our tradition that I make Henry anything he wants for Christmas morning.  Nine times out of ten, that’s pancakes.  Making them now…well it just makes it feel a little more like he’s with me.”

A moment later, she felt his hand cover hers.  She turned to meet warm, sympathetic eyes.  “I’m sorry you can’t be with your lad for Christmas morning.  I know how hard that must be.”

She shrugged.  “Neal may be a bastard, but it’s clear he loves our kid and he’s doing everything he can to be a good dad.  I’d be a pretty crap mom to complain about my kid getting a chance to have a real relationship with his father.”

“Perhaps,” Killian said, “but it’s only human to miss him on such a special day.”

She didn’t respond to that.  What, after all, was there to say?  It was what it was.

“We’ve had breakfast,” Killian said a moment later.  “Were you with your boy, what else might Christmas Day entail?”

“Well, presents, obviously,” Emma said, “and then assuming we had snow, we’d probably go out and make a snowman.  Maybe come in for some cocoa and Christmas movies.”

Killian got to his feet, gathering up both his plate and hers.  “Very well,” he said, “As you so generously prepared the meal, I’ll clean up.  In the meantime, go on and get ready.”

“Get ready for what?”

Killian gestured to the window.  “By my calculation, we got a good foot of snow yesterday.  More than enough to make a most impressive snowman.”

Emma laughed.  “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” he shrugged, before turning serious. “Swan, you deserve a happy Christmas, even if it can’t be with your lad.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Impressive,” Emma said, taking a step back to survey their masterpiece. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

Killian looked over at her, noticed the way the joy sparkled in her eyes and the cold made her cheeks rosy.  She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.  “Magnificent”, he breathed.

She turned toward him, and if possible, the color on her cheeks deepened at his admiration.  Quickly, she turned back toward the large snowman they’d spent the balance of the morning constructing.  “He needs something though.  He looks cold, doesn’t he?”

Killian grinned. “Cold is rather a requirement of a creature made of snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “You know what I mean.  He needs a hat or a scarf or something.”

Killian unwound the simple black scarf from around his neck and drew in a deep breath at the chill suddenly surrounding him.  “Better?” he asked after he’d properly clothed the snowman.

“Better for Frosty,” she said, giving Killian an assessing look, “but you’ve got to be freezing.”

“Offering to warm me up, darling?” he asked with an exaggerated wag of his brows.

Emma laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully.  “You really need some new material.  You’ve used the same innuendo on me like three times this weekend.”

“Why Swan,” he said with a feigned look of innocence, “What a dirty mind you’ve got.  I simply meant to inquire after the hot cocoa you promised would follow our morning in the snow.”

Killian thought he could listen to the delightful sound of her laughter for the rest of his life.  

As they trudged back into the inviting warmth of the cabin and set to work on the aforementioned cocoa, what he’d just thought hit him.  He genuinely enjoyed Emma Swan’s company, and he’d like to have it for longer than simply a snowed-in weekend.

Was there any possibility that she’d be agreeable should he one day ask to court her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, as the shadows began to lengthen and the sunset painted the sky in lovely shades of pink and purple, Emma sat cross-legged in front of the entertainment center, rifling through the DVDs the Nolans had stocked the cabin with.  It seemed they had every Christmas movie ever made.

After some debate, it was decided that Emma and Killian would watch “A Christmas Story” as an end to a surprisingly enjoyable Christmas day.  After making their snowman and drinking their cocoa, they’d made Christmas cookies, and then Emma had settled in with a good book while Killian typed away at his latest novel, the muse finally deciding to cooperate, it seemed.

The truth was that Killian was surprisingly good company.  He had a wit and charm that was truly genuine once he dropped the endless flirting and innuendo (that Emma was coming to realize was as much his armor as anything else.  You can keep people at bay when they dismiss you as a player.)  The conversation today had been easy, effortless, and congenial.

Emma found that despite her initial impression of him, she actually liked Killian Jones, and she would be disappointed when this weekend was over and they had to go their separate ways.

Maybe….maybe the end of the weekend didn’t have to be the end of their new friendship (or whatever it might develop into).

That night, after the movie, there was no discussion about sleeping arrangements.  They simply climbed into the bed together, Killian gathering her toward him with an arm around her middle.  The fact that she loved the way this felt was something she’d need to examine more closely at some point, but for this night, she was just so comfortable she drifted immediately into a happy, peaceful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian’s cell phone buzzed first thing the next morning, and he rolled reluctantly away from the woman in his arms to grab the device and peer at the caller ID.

Dave

“Killian,” David started as soon as he’d answered sleepily.  “Again, I’m sorry about the mix up.  I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, mate,” Killian said.  “I’ve found Swan to be rather enjoyable company.”

There was silence for a moment, and Killian could nearly feel the suspicion bleeding off of his friend.  “I certainly hope you’re not having too enjoyable of a time.  She’s not one of your conquests, Killian.”

Killian rolled his eyes.  He knew David Nolan was protective of his wife’s best friend; viewed her almost as the sister he never had.  “Relax, Dave.  I’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

“Good,” David said, “Keep it that way.”

Killian rolled his eyes again.

“Anyway,” David continued, “I’m just calling to let you know that the plows have been through and your path should be clear whenever you want to leave.  Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too.” Killian said in lieu of a farewell.

“David call with good news?” Emma asked sleepily as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows.

“The best,” he said, though a part of him felt a pang of regret that the happy bubble they’d been forced into was about to burst.  “The roads are clear.  We can leave whenever we wish.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing aside and looking (dare he hope) a mite disappointed.  “Yeah, that’s good.  I…I guess I should gather up my stuff and hit the road.  I’ve got a few things I need to do before Henry gets home the day after tomorrow.”

“Aye, I suppose it’s for the best,” Killian agreed, though a large part of him wanted nothing more than to object.

Over the course of the next half hour they worked in silence gathering their things and preparing to depart.  When all was put to rights and there was nothing left to do, Killian stopped Emma from turning toward the door with a hand to her arm.

“Before we leave, I have a Christmas gift for you, love.”

She looked surprised at the sheets of paper he handed her.

“It isn’t much,” he said, “but in between working on my novel I wrote a bit of a short story for you.”

She murmured her thanks, and immediately began reading.  Not a paragraph in, a delighted smile covered her face, and she met his eyes.  “It’s our story!  The story of this weekend.”

“Aye,” he answered, smiling back at her warmly.  “Go on.  Read it.”

She nodded in agreement, settling in on the sofa and pulling her feet up beneath her.  She read steadily for a quarter of an hour, and when she reached the final page, she frowned, turned it over, and then looked up at him, confusion in her eyes.

“Killian, it’s not finished,” she said.  “How does it end?”

Killian took a deep breath.  Now was the moment of truth.  Now was the moment this Christmas either became one of the best of his life…or one of the most disappointing.

“That’s rather up to you, Swan,” he said.  “I was hoping it would end with you giving me your phone number and agreeing to a date in the very near future.”

Her eyes rounded, and Killian had a moment of anxiety as he waited for her answer.

She didn’t answer with words.  She answered by scooting closer to him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him down to her for a long and rather thorough kiss.

As it happened, that was all the answer he needed.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 

-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water.  “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

-/-

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[samantha-chicago]

Christmas Prompts

Christmas Prompts. These will be written in order of the prompts here Please feel free to request more than one 

I will be putting all of these prompts under #samanthaschristmas2020

1.  You and your boyfriend/girlfriend putting up your Christmas tree on your first Christmas together - Oh Christmas Tree.

2. “I’m not letting you spend Christmas by yourself” - Not Home For Christmas

3. “There seems to be some mistletoe above us”  - Mistletoe

4. Taking your boyfriend/girlfriend to have Christmas with your parents for the first time - I'll Be Home For Christmas

5. Your in charge of hosting Christmas dinner for everyone - Christmas Dinner

6. Dancing around your apartment with your toddler when your partner comes home - Christmas Dance

7. Your child saying their first work on Christmas morning - First Words

8. “Will you stop singing Christmas songs” “Sorry Grinch” - Christmas Gifts

9. “Do you want to stay in watch movies and drink hot chocolate?”  - Hot Chocolate

10. “You have got to be joking me we’re meant to be working” - Working It Out

11.  "Leave my gingerbread house alone please" - Gingerbread Houses

12. “Will you stop hanging mistletoe everywhere?” - Distraction

13. “I don’t remember the last time I didn’t cry on Christmas so thank you” - Best Christmas

14.”I thought you were going home for Christmas?” “I missed my flight the next one isn’t for a few days” - Best Friends

15. Taking your son/daughter to meet Santa - Santa Visit

16. Having a snowball fight with partner - Snow Fight

17. Going to a cabin for Christmas and it smelling like Christmas should - Cabin Surprises

18. Taking someone home to be your fake boyfriend/girlfriend so your parents won’t complain - Fake Boyfriend

19. Baking cookies to give to the homeless - Christmas Cookies

20. Sitting on the doorstep with a mug of hot chocolate with your partner as your children have a snowball fight in the front garden - Best Family Ever

21. “I’m telling you that tree is far to big for our house it might have to go to the district/firehouse” - Too Big

22. Wrapping presents while singing to Christmas songs not knowing your partner is videoing you

23. “Why the hell are there so many lights how much does this cost?”

24.  Telling your boyfriend/girlfriend your pregnant on Christmas Eve as an early Christmas gift so you can tell your brother/sister with "first Christmas as a family of 3" baby grow (Please give a character to be your brother or sister) -Requested

25. Boyfriend/Girlfriend proposing on Christmas day