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lovecolibri · 2 years ago

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SaL anon here friend and, well, that was an intesting start to LS. So my quick review is I loved the 126 interactions, both during and outside of the emergency, apparently this is Tim's strong suit since it involved the actual ensemble and felt world's away from where the OG interactions are now. I absolutely hate the Owen plot, it makes no sense and is giving me flashbacks of another show's awkward attempt at a white supremacist storyline, but with thankfully less visions 🙄🙄🙄. And then

we have the Tarlos storyline. I'm not outright against it, even with how nonsensical it is. You and I are veterans of Plothole NM, we've seen worse. But that storyline has a lot of heavy lifting to do and it already started on a bad note. I know the reason Carlos hasn't brought this up in 3 years is the writers didn't know it was happening till a few months ago (planned since S1 my ass Tim) but I'm going to need an onscreen explanation, this is talk that should have happened. And I do want to see Carlos have a plotline that's his own where he gets to grow and his issues are addressed, the character deserves that. But they better be careful how they handle it cause the scene last episode and interview clips I've seen aren't encouraging. I'm not super thrilled at the "I'm a bad friend" line from Carlos, addressed to his FIANCE, who he just dropped this huge bombshell on. And since we know Iris isn't signing divorce papers next episode, that she's apparently "vetting" TK next episode (seriously girl, take a seat), and her and Carlos's friendship is going to make TK feel like an outsider, this character has got me super wary. Maybe it's an overreaction, but we just got done with a show where a straight woman got in the middle of the queer couple and was frequently prioritized, I'm don't want to see it again. If she says one mean or judgmental thing to TK I'll shove her in the plothole she crawled out of.

Hello my friend! It was so good to not only have some weewoos back, but my watching ritual is going to my grandmas to chill, watch together, and talk about the show after while we work on puzzles so I overall had a great Tuesday (aside from constantly thinking it was Monday lol). I also really enjoyed the 126 and the interpersonal scenes. Everyone bagging on Owen all episode was hilarious to me personally, the Judd/TK dynamic is as delightfully brotherly as always, Nancy and Mateo are adorable, and Nancy calling Tommy out was SO funny, and Brianna’s delivery continues to be on point. I wanted more Marjan and Paul as always but they also got their quips in and seeing the teams in action felt good! I agree that things definitely felt way less forced than OG felt this season.

NGL you said “thankfully less visions” and I was *scrambling* to remember what happened in OG 911 about visions before I realized it was about RNM s3 and I had just fully suppressed that stupid vision plot from my brain 🤣🤣🤣 I do think this show will handle things better than RNM did, but that is saying absolutely nothing because RNM did it SO badly sooo 🤷🏻‍♀️ My main gripe with this, as with most of Owen’s storylines, is that they are centralized around NO ONE ELSE in the main cast, and since he gets most of the screentime, it’s going to mean LESS time for everyone and everything else. Judd and Grace and Tommy are all involved in each other’s “personal” storylines even just as someone to talk/vent to, plus Tommy has TK and Nancy as well to talk to, TK and Carlos obviously have each other as to Mateo and Nancy, we’ve had some great Paul/Marjan stuff especially last season and when the show started, we had lots of good Owen/TK and Judd/Owen scenes, plus a few good scenes with Owen and Tommy or Michelle as captains. Even Billy had a connection to Judd and Grace, and wanted to be over the 126 so that wasn’t entirely separated either, but everything else for Owen has been focused outside of the team. Even the Owen/Marjan stuff in the opener last season was them being separated most of the time and unaware they were both in the same place. And here’s the thing, I LIKE the Owen scenes with the main characters! I like the banter, and he has some really great moments as a dad/father figure and as a captain. But every time it becomes all about a character outside of the 126 it just falls SO flat for me. So add to that mess the fact they want to address white nationalism in Texas by having him go undercover for the FBI? Hard pass. I care zero percent about what they do with this storyline. I HOPE they at least use Owen’s love for his team and the diverse minorities they represent as an anchor point for this storyline but still. Can we go back to him having cancer and trauma and dealing with it by being a good captain and making sure his team takes care of their physical and mental health please? (I’ve been re-watching s1 and like...there was some GOOD stuff there with him and the team and I miss that energy!) I will say I am SOOOOO excited to see him and Andrea Reyes being wedding-zillas about the Tarlos wedding because THAT is the kind of Owen shenanigans I can enjoy!

As for the Tarlos storyline I’m willing to see where it goes for sure because I do think Tim had the thought ages ago (without considering how the characters have changed since their first concept came to be while planning s1) and I also think it’s going to give US some good backstory and depth for Carlos, and it’s going to give RAFAEL some meaty stuff to work with and stretch his acting chops which will be fun to see. HOWEVER. My main gripe is just...the sheer number of MASSIVE plotholes/questions this storyline creates, and a lot of that has to do with them never leaving ANY clues that this could be a thing.

Andrea (and possibly Gabriel) knows? Because a) this 100% should have come up as part of the reason for the s2 misunderstanding about why Carlos hadn’t told them about TK even if it was a vague and cut-off conversation we weren’t fully apart of. And b) HOW MUCH and WHEN did she know? Because if she’s known all along it’s WEIRD that it hasn’t come up even accidentally at all especially in s2, AND it doesn’t track with Carlos saying they did it for “normalcy” reasons if they were dating other people and no one seems to have known anything about it by the way they have all acted for 4 seasons.

As stated above, Iris was dating someone for ages before she disappeared! And no one said anything about her “stepping out” on her husband? Was everyone in the know that it was a sham? And if so, then why do it at all?

Also, Iris wasn’t doing it to use his medical insurance since she wasn’t diagnosed until after she was found and at that point she was still refusing treatment.

If she HAD been using his insurance recently and the “marriage” was an excuse to keep her coverage up all this time, wouldn’t Carlos have been getting her insurance statements when they paid a bill? And getting the bills for her deductibles and stuff? Surely TK would have seen the mail at this point?

Carlos was allowed to help in the investigation and was never under suspicion himself? Even when they found the truck and blood, he was allowed to take part and it never once came up that he shouldn’t be allowed because he was legally her husband?

Wouldn’t it have come up when they were talking about wills that legally half of everything Carlos has or has bought (INCLUDING THE LOFT) legally belongs to his wife? (ONE good thing is that we didn’t get this reveal while Carlos was unconscious in the hospital, can you even imagine?!)

I KNOW there are more things I’m forgetting but that’s just questions off the top of my head and it’s already so much! Had Timmy put in like, the barest effort to include some crumbs, we all could have had an OH SHIT THIS is what *xyz* scene was about?! Which could have been fun! But by dropping it entirely only to bring it up in season 4, it’s just created a bit of a mess. Hopefully we get the answer to some of these questions in the next couple of episodes but none of that changes that the actual build up SHOULD have been there because there were ample opportunities to sneak hints and instead it still just comes out of nowhere.

As for Iris herself, I’m already really heated about the slap because like, that was SO unnecessary. Like a hug, then playful punch to the arm, then hug again could have had the comedic effect I know they were going for, but using a full on bitch slap across the face is NEVER funny. Can you imagine if Eddie had slapped Shannon when she returned after ghosting him? Why is it okay in this case then?? ANYWAY, I know what they were TRYING to do but it absolutely did not work for me. I’m also a little leery of how they seem to have “cured” Iris off screen after the last we heard (in season ONE) was that she didn’t want treatment (though maybe the mentioned her when they mentioned Michelle leaving? I honestly don’t remember). I’m just not sure what they are planning to do with her, and if it’s going to work, especially if they make her the “bad guy” keeping Tarlos apart by holding the divorce papers hostage. I have avoided the interviews because as much as I would like Tim back on OG for his arc planning skills, mostly coherent storylines, main character focus, good emergencies, and overall tight ship running, I still don’t particularly want to hear what he has to say 🤷🏻‍♀️ I think we could get some good stuff of TK talking out his feelings which will be nice and I do feel like this is different from the sponsor thing last season because Iris isn’t a legitimate prospect for Carlos. However, I’m absolutely with you. “If she says one mean or judgmental thing to TK I'll shove her in the plothole she crawled out of.” I’m zero percent attached to her character, we barely even saw her in s1 and it’s been ages since then, and I��d much rather see Tarlos scenes of them working this out between them rather than a bunch of scenes with her instead but we’ll see how things go!

I am excited about the Tommy storyline though, and I was excited to see D.B. Woodside since I loved him in Lucifer. Mostly though, I’m really hoping to get more Marjan, Paul, Nancy, and Mateo because like...damn. It’s about fucking time. No matter what, at this point I am curious, excited, and ready for more!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 lone star #lone star spoilers #tarlos #this is probably a mess because i had to stop for dinner halfway through and i did NOT reread this #sorry not sorry #i have a lot of feelings and thoughts but they are still a little disjointed #probably because of all the MASSIVE plotholes i'm trying to think around

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fae-fucker · 2 years ago

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Breaking Time: Part 5

Chapter 21: Klara

Klara wakes up in the middle of the night and DUN DUN, Llaw is there!

What is also there is the mysterious weird sparkly dust stuff that I assume will be relevant at some point. It’s similar to the dust she saw in the forest earlier but also different.

Llaw explains that he can’t hurt her “here” because it’s “neutral ground”, we don’t find out exactly why not or what “here” is as per usual. Klara is worried about the magic dust in the air and that’s the part Sasha thinks we need explaiend at the moment:

“What is this?” she asked, fearing the worst. “Have you done something?”

“The matter between worlds.” Llaw outstretched his hand. There was reverence, even awe, in the gesture. “One cannot travel between them without bringing something along, too. With enough discipline, it’s like any other material.”

Klara remembered her meeting with Cernunnos. An idea took hold. Her eyes snapped back to Llaw. “I’m dreaming.”

He clapped his hands. He strode across the room and settled himself in the armchair Klara had fallen asleep in. “Now you’re getting it, Pillar.”

“I prefer Klara, thanks,” she said easily. “If I’m dreaming, then why are you here?”

He shrugged, but the gesture looked unnatural on him. Inhuman. “It’s your dream.”

She scoffed. “It’s a nightmare, then.”

“A nightmare. I like that.” He flashed his teeth. “In the flesh.”

Sooo ... “neutral ground” just means her dream? Why don’t you just say that, sir? Neutral ground has different connotations, especially when this setting deals with different worlds.

Also, I’ve never seen “outstretched” used as a verb and I think I hate it? I don’t think it’s a verb, native English speakers don’t correct me if it is because you’re wrong.

Llaw suggests that they work together, somehow, even though he needs to kill her. When Klara points this out, he just skirts the question, and I don’t think Sasha intended that. She just can’t write dialogue for shit, so Llaw spouts the same type of mystical wank that doesn’t mean anything, sounding exactly like Arianrhod and Aion and Cernunnos and Grams.

“You don’t have to die,” he said. “Klara.”

“You don’t have to kill me,” she quipped. “See? Two can play at that game.”

Omg the girlboss is quippiiiiing! Sooo badass and quirky!!

Kill me now.

Anyway, Llaw jumpscares Klara into waking up. Then she mopes for a bit and gets ready to leave for the next mystic center. Riveting chapter all around. And so enlightening!

Okay, to beat a dead horse, I need to talk a bit about the, uh, storytelling choices of this book. I know it’s becoming rather unpopular to cut down scenes and dialogue and description for the sake of plot and keeping things in motion to hold the reader’s limited attention. I agree that encouraging storytellers to focus on action and moving the plot forward at the cost of character and world and emotion makes for very drab and soulless works of art. The Marvelization of storytelling, if you will.

BUT, I feel like you, as a writer, still need to know why a scene exists in your book. You’re writing a book, not a fanfic, so you have a limited word count by definition of the medium. Part of being a writer is to use words wisely. Not every scene has to move the plot forward, but every scene needs to serve some sort of purpose, multiple if you’re sexy, and it has to be as clear as you can make it. On one end there’s cutting vital parts of your book to hold the reader’s attention, on the otherthere’s wasting your reader’s time with bland, boring scenes or monologues that repeat themselves because you have nothing else to put in your book.

I’m an overwriter and following the “keep everything and just ramble for the art of it!” is a very dangerous philosophy to follow, which means editing is vital for someone like me. Luckily, it’s something you can outsource if you’re, say, publishing traditionally. If you’re, say, a popular YouTuber with a guaranteed audience who can definitely afford an editor.

So ... WHAT is the purpose of this scene? What new things did we learn? About the plot, about the characters, about the world? What things did we learn that required a whole chapter, that couldn’t be included as tidbits in previous exposition-dumps by previous characters fulfilling the same role? Klara and Callum just keep unintentionally summoning random mystical beings that spout nonsense at them and then vanish. Why did it have to be Llaw this time, why did it have to be in Klara’s dream again, why did he need to reiterate that Klara’s powers are growing? It’s just filler. It’s just Sasha trying to keep us interested by reminding us that the threat totally exists, guys! He just can’t do anything in this particular scene, but he’s totally gonna show up in the climax, so stick around for more boring bullshit first!

Moreover, what does this say about Llaw, as an antagonist? He reaffirms his want to control the worlds, shit we already knew. He’s apparently willing to heed the unconscious summons of his enemy, which paints him as either powerless to stop her or petty in a very pathetic sort of way. Neither of those are the intent. The only new thing we learn is that he’s potentially willing to work with Klara, but he doesn’t even offer why or try to entice her into it, and reverts back to death threats the moment she says no.

Like?? What is the point of this lmao.

Chapter 22: Callum

Their next destination is a place called Maeshowe, and they’re planning to infiltrate a tour bus and then ditch it to go explore on their own. They get on a boat, hug while Callum thinks about how much he cares about Klara and how he must protect her like he couldn’t protect Thomas, same old crap. Then Callum spots the bean-nighe on the shore! DUN DUUUN!

Nothing much happens, as you can see. Here’s a nitpick to compensate:

The bean-nighe — the omen of death—turned to him. Time seemed to slow. Her handsome face twisted and melted into a horrifying mask punctured by black, unblinking eyes and a mouth that opened to reveal a yawning maw of darkness.

The use of “handsome” here bothers me. Not because “only men are described as handsome!” which I think is stupid, and in fact more women and fem-presenting people should be called handsome, both for gay reasons and for Jane Austen reasons. My beef here is that it’s such an anachronistic term used by a character that has otherwise sounded perfectly modern throughout the book. Like, Sasha has made Callum’s inner monologue/voice sound nearly indistinguishable from Klara’s (he’s not as Quirky TM), so this archaic use of the word jumps out and points a finger at how fucked the rest of his language is. Like, it’s more correct, which is why it’s wrong. That’s impressive in a weird way.

Chapter 23: Klara

“Acting like everything is normal” had always been her superpower[...]

WHY IS THAT IN QUOTES?! AUGH!

They get on the bus with a bunch of tourists and the tour guide provides exposition. At least it makes more sense in-universe, even if the way it’s written makes the fascinating historical site sound really boring.

I won’t recap it here. Go research Maeshowe on your own, it’ll be far more interesting.

Either way, the most important bit is that something something winter solstice, which triggers this tasty morsel of bad:

Meán Geimhridh. The winter solstice. The shortest day. The longest night. Her scientist brain churned, considering it in astronomical terms: during the solstice, the earth’s northern hemisphere was the farthest from the sun it could be. Farthest from the light. The cold expanse of space unfurled in her mind. She imagined its darkness spilling onto earth in the lengthening shadows of winter.

HER SCIENTIST BRAIN, you guys. Klara is SO SMART, I PROMISE. Look at her thinking scientifically about the SCIENCE that SWEDISH MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS learn.

God, this is sad.

Anyway, they sneak off without issue, and Klara once again begins to feel the Mysterious Plot Pull as they enter Maeshowe. They get inside and discover some runes and other totes mystical stuff, and Klara steps into a special square of runes and then gets blasted with some magic and travels through time, seeing modern construction people but also Vikings. It’s honestly difficult to tell what the fuck is going on, so y’all help me out here.

She was moving through time—or time was moving around her while she stood perfectly still, the eye in the center of a storm.

People came and went, bearded and robed. A group of men set light to a fire beside them, axes and round shields in their hands. Vikings, Klara thought, carving runes upon the wall. Then they, too, were gone.

Rubble fell, crashing to the ground around them, revealing the sky above. Men emptied the fallen earth and stone.

Clouds tore across the heavens, the sun and moon cresting across an alternating gray-blue and starry-black skyscape. Then the view was blocked, the modern men closing the ceiling once more. Light, electric and artificial, flared into existence and expired. The scene turned back again, the sun and moon spinning like a top.

And then, just like that—the scene around her came to a standstill again.

So is she going back? Forward? Or is it just sort of a slurry.

Either way, the slurry stops and DUN DUN! Thomas is there!

A bright-eyed boy dressed in a plain cloak stood in front of her, clutching a torch. His freckles spread like wildfire across his cheeks and a roguish grin.

And a roguish grin ... what?

God, this is so bad. Literally who edited this?

Anyway, they touch and it’s all mystical and power surges through her and then Klara is like “oh naur” for some reason and is yanked back into the present.

Chapter 24: Klara

Klara wakes up and Callum is gone, but she brought Thomas’s torch with her through time. Cool. She stumbles outside and Callum is fighting a shadow beast again, and he’s losing. He loses so bad he gets mortally wounded, apparently. Klara turns back time a few moments to give him an advantage and heal his wounds. It works, but Callum ... *longsuffering sigh* drops the sword and it spins in the air and lands blade-first in the ground next to Klara and she doesn’t have time to think so she grabs it and leaps into the air and stabs the monster in the mouth.

To give Sasha some credit, Klara falls over immediately and the monster isn’t dead, but then she, of course, remembers Cernunnos’s epic words in italics.

An odd sense of calm overcame her as she stared into the beast’s snake eyes. What surprised her most of all was the soothing voice that suddenly filled her head. Cernunnos’s voice.

It comes from the breach between worlds.

[...]

She held the entire being within her mind, imagining down to the smallest atom where it had come from.

And where it must return.

The powers of a god, she thought. I’ll have to be good enough.

She blasts the monster back to whence it came. Very girlbossy of her.

Chapter 25: Callum

We time skip to them in another inn. No recap of what happened or what Callum saw while Klara was doing her thing, because who needs that?

Klara patches up a wound on Callum’s leg that seems supernaturally infected. They make out for a bit, then the innkeeper tells them to get a room and they do. Callum thinks about how he has to protect Klara and how he’s willing to die for her, because that’s his only personality trait.

Klara explains that she saw Thomas, but that something was off about him, which is news to me but ok. Callum doesn’t take it well, and even though Klara doesn’t specify how Thomas felt off, Callum assures her that Thomas is totes trustworthy. I have no idea what is happening, but the bad dialogue is really revealing Sasha’s heavy hand.

“Maybe,” Klara said. “He definitely seemed...confident.” She shifted from foot to foot. “But, Callum, something about him was wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her words sparked in him. Too many people in Rosemere had judged Thomas and Callum—for being poor, for being rough.

But Klara only grew more confident, and stepped out of his embrace. “There was something off, Callum. Some kind of energy—”

“Thomas is the most trustworthy man I ken,” Callum insisted. He heard the tinge of desperation in his voice.

“To you, of course. You were best friends.” Klara paused. She then softened her gaze. “I know what I felt, Callum. I just don’t know what it means yet.”

“Well what does it matter now? He’s dead.”

Callum is impressively stupid for a guy who not only thinks and speaks like a modern man, but also was the first one to insist and believe time travel was real and had happened to him. Like ... yes, Thomas is dead now, at this moment. But he’s alive if you travel back in time to before he died. Keep up, kiltboy.

Sadly, no dramatic fight breaks out. Instead, we get another “breakthrough.”

“His words, they must mean something...significant. Could it have been an offer of help?”

“Well I’ve been thinking about that, too. It reminded me of something Arianrhod said.” Klara stared at her hands. “You’re right, my powers are growing stronger. They must be the key.”

“What do ye mean?” he asked.

“You’re not going to like it,” she answered.

Klara stretched her arms out in front of her, a kind of wonder and fear dancing in her eyes and the way she flexed her fingers. “I think the Otherworld may be the only place Llaw couldn’t reach me. And with my powers...”

Callum waited for her to finish. When she didn’t, his mind filled in her meaning. “Ye think that with your powers, ye could escape into the Otherworld?”

I ... I mean ... Doy? Isn’t that what you were doing in the first place? Not the escaping to the Otherworld part, but the “my powers are the key” part? Were you not traveling to all these mystic center to help Klara unlock her powers?

Also, what indication do they have that Llaw wouldn’t be able to reach her there? If he’s collected the powers of all the other Pillars, wouldn’t he be able to enter the Otherworld just as easily as one Pillar? Is she getting this from Thomas saying that the Otherworld is the key? But Llaw has also summoned supernatural creatures from a “breach” between this world and the Otherworld and can control them to some degree, so he clearly has some sort of influence over it?

Am I insane? Am I going fucking insane? This book is gaslighting me, I swear.

Klara also says that she can send Callum back to his time before she leaves for the Otherworld, but Callum is all “Nooo I wanna stay here with you and die for you potentially because that’s my only character trait!”

They make out some more, but are cockblocked by Klara’s dad who knocks on the door.

We’re almost at the end, y’all. We’re getting there. One or two more posts and then we’re free!

#eff reads: breaking time

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years ago

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Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

Masterlist

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years ago

Text

I Hate To Admit ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT:1.6K

PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader

GENRE: Angst, fluffy

A/N: I made it a fluffy ending I cant help it.

The longer that Chan sat there listening to the rain outside the window the more he began to grow uneasy about everything he had done that day. It was his turn to release an Skz-Record and he'd written something from the heart, something he'd been holding back on for so long that he needed to get out. Now it had been out in the world for almost eight hours and he was already wondering about you, had you seen it yet? What did you think about it? Did you even know that it was about you? Would you even care that he had done something like that?

The clock on his desk began blinking as it reached midnight and he knew he was going to have to head back to the dorms sooner or later but he didn't want to. As much as he loved being around the boys he needed some time alone, time to think about everything he had lost and he didn't want to go back yet. The boys all knew who the song was going to be about which meant they were going to have a million and one questions about you, why you had left in the first place, why he'd written such a sad song and why Chan would never tell the boys what had truly happened to you. Going back to them met admitting that he missed you and he did, he missed you every minute of every day but he could never say that out loud to anyone but himself. There were times where your voice still echoed in the back of his mind and being at the studio was one of the moments he still felt as though he was close to you. Imagining you sat on the chairs behind him waiting for him to finish one of the pieces he was working on. He still pictured you waiting up for him at the dorms, sitting in one of his shirts playing video games or passed out on the sofa so tired from waiting for him but you would always be there.

"Chan? You ready?" He snapped out of his daydream as he glanced over at the door, his manager had been watching him for a few minutes debating about interrupting the young man's thoughts.

"No, I'm...I'm going to work on this a little more," He lied as he turned back to the blank laptop screen, he was already so tired it wouldn't matter if he stayed in the studio that night he just didn't want to go home yet. Not to an empty bed where he couldn't sleep, he couldn't sleep without you by his side which is why he had begged you to stay with him but you didn't.

"You told me you would never leave! You promised!" He yelled out as you stood across from him in the dorms, throwing your clothes into a bag as you tried to leave as quickly as possible. Tears welling up in your eyes as you tried not to look at him, looking at him you would see how much this was hurting him but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you couldn't give it up. It was your life's work and someone was finally taking you seriously, your dream was to be a writer and now that was finally able to come true he wasn't willing to let you go?

"I'll be back Channie, I need this." You breathed as you placed your bag over your shoulder, heading towards the exit when he took hold of your hand. The familiar spark you always felt jolted through your body only making you cry harder at the thought of leaving him. The two of you had spoken about it before, you'd managed a long-distance relationship when he was away on tour, it would be no different. You would be back sooner than he could think about it but he was set on never letting you leave.

"I'll be back...I need this, you know how much this means to me." You tried to let him know gently that this was your dream but he was blind to everything, all he could think about was the promises you had made that you were now breaking.

"You lied to me. You promised that you would never leave and now you're leaving." His voice cracked and you turned to look at him, tears rushing down your face as you reached your hand up to touch him. You hadn't seen Chan this upset since the survival show and it broke you to see him with his eyes so red and tears staining his cheeks.

"You said you would support my dreams." You reminded him but he stepped back from you, shaking his head as he let you walk out of the door, leaving everything behind without trying to fix it.

Chan never should have let you leave the way you did, it was one of the biggest mistakes in his life. He should have made up with you before you got on the plane and left the country to be far away from him, he didn't have to be as selfish as he was but he couldn't see a world without you in it and to this day he still couldn't. How could he ever forget the way you were, how could he not remember all of the little things you did that made him smile and even things that would annoy him but that he still loved about you? He always regretted never responding to the texts and calls you left him when you landed for your new job, he ignored you, ghosting you and telling the boys to do the same.

"Fuck," He mumbled as he looked down at the photo of you he had on his desk, he'd never moved it from the moment that he put it there. It was a photo of you and him together after the boy's first award win, you were holding onto him tightly as tears rushed down both of your faces. You had the photo framed so that you could prove to Chan every day how much you supported his dream and how much of an amazing achievement he had won in the past to keep him motivated but now? Now it felt like a person torture device sitting on his desk, painfully reminding him that although you had supported him he hadn't done the same for you.

Staggering into the dorms that night he stripped out of the drenching wet coat he was wearing and hung it up on the coat rack to dry for the next day. He scratched the back of his neck as he walked through the hallway and into the living room, glancing over at the sofa as he saw you sitting there.

"I'm too tired," He mumbled as he began rubbing his eyes thinking that the image of you sitting there, in his shirt was just all in his head but as he glanced back over you were staring at him. Two cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table as you waited for him to come and sit down.

"You wouldn't be so tired if you got some decent sleep," You quipped as you moved over on the sofa, Chan's mind raced as he stared at you. He must have fallen asleep in the studio it was the only explanation for you to be sitting there so calmly as if nothing had happened.

"Channie, please...We need to talk." You whispered as you waited for him to go and sit beside you, he hesitantly walked over and took the drink from the table, sitting down expecting everything to fade away as he woke up.

"The song." You whispered again placing your hand over his and that was when he knew it was real, that you were truly sitting across from him and touching him. That you were back.

"The song," He repeated, placing his hand on top of yours as he waited for you to say something else but no words could express what you were feeling. You had been on the plane flying home to see him when the song dropped, making you rethink everything in your relationship if there was even one to go back to.

"How did you know I was coming back?" He questioned as he looked at you and then to the time, it was almost 2 in the morning and he never would have expected to find you here.

"I came as soon as I landed...Felix let me in and I slept in your bed for a while...Then I figured you'd probably come home at some ungodly hour like you used to," You laughed softly remembering all the times he would come home late like this, it never once bothered you because you knew how much he adored his word and you would always make sure he slept when he came in.

"But...Why are you back? I thought the job was what you wanted," It had been everything you wanted but it was awful, you were completely miserable the whole time because it wasn't as fun as they had made it out to be, promising you all these amazing opportunities only to make you an errand-runner. Not having Chan in your life made it all the worse, with Chan by your side you felt like anything was possible.

"I didn't want the job if it meant I never got to see you again...Plus...They kind of sucked, I became an errand-runner." You mumbled as you laid your head on his shoulder and just like that it was as if nothing had changed. The four months you spent apart never happened and Chan was just glad to have you back in his life and in his arms where he was never going to let you go without telling you how much he supported you.

"We'll find you something good, something better...I will support you...I promise." He whispered as he laid a small kiss on your forehead, you hummed tiredly as you relaxed against him just happy to be back in his arms once again.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @mwitsmejk @acciocriativity @minholuvs @anxiousbobatea @justbangtanthingz

#skz #skz x reader #skz x you #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #bang chan #chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines

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pippytmi · 3 years ago

Note

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

#this is both a threat and a reminder that im still working on these #😌😌😌#supercorp #supergirl #bisexualgoof #i need a fic tag #disclaimer that i still do not know anything about hp #im doing more research on harry potter than i do writing smh

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years ago

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Side Tracked (William “Ironhead” Miller x Plus Size Female Reader)

Side tracked

Pairing: William ’Ironhead’ Miller x Plus Size Female Reader

Rating: (E) Explicit, (M) Mature, NSFW, 18+ Only please

Warnings: Teasing, Smut, Protected Sex (p in v), if you squint Dom Will kink, unknown pain kink (in the form of cunt slaps),

Word count: 8,053 (I’m sorry but not sorry. Goes to show I can’t write anything short.)

Summary: Vacation is fast approaching but you haven’t told Will just yet. Along with a few other things you haven’t talked about with your new boyfriend.

Notes: Sequel to “One Touch” written for the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday.

“Have any ideas for your vacation yet?” Taking a sip of her tea, eyes watching you slowly move the spoon around your own mug. Soft chuckles slips passed her smiling lips, “Earth to Y/N you with me sweetheart?”

“Huh…” glancing up from staring into your favorite green Mandolorian mug with Grogu etched into the ceramic. Brain catching the fact that you haven’t truly answered her question.

Head tiled noticing the mug, “Moving in already I see.” Teasing edge to her quip a chuckle leaving right after. Swearing she heard it crack with how fast your head popped up, blank confused look filling your eyes.

“What… what? No, I hav… we haven’t. I just love this mug is all,” bringing said cup to your lips for a deep drink mindful of the hot liquid inside. Finally catching on to the first question she asked, “And no there’s no plans for next week. Just staying home, clearing, packing up old shit to get rid of.”

Smirk sliding over her lips she tries to hide knowing why the mug is so special and an added secret she keeps that Will hasn’t told you yet. “Why haven’t you told Will?”

“Hasn’t come up really, besides I didn’t want to pull him alway from his job.” Nibbling the inside of your cheek thankful Isabella’s with the babysitters this late afternoon rolling the idea around to ask a delicate question. “Besides it’s early still in our relationship I wouldn’t want to impose or suggest…”

Sensing a trouble deeper than just decisions about your vacation plans, she rests a hand on your forearm giving a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” comes out quicker than you mean it too. Giving away the fact something truly is wrong but having a hard time asking for help.

Soft sigh leaves her lips, “Sweetheart you know we can talk about anything,” catching your eyes to convey without words the truth. “You’re my best friend so spill woman or I’ll sic Frankie on you.”

“No please God not Morales he’ll nag like an old woman till I talk,” dramatically stating smile tipping the corners up but not reaching your eyes. Weary sigh follows, gripping the green mug a little tighter to warm your hands with the drink. “We, Will and I haven’t, not that there hasn’t been some heavy make outs but we haven’t…” Stumbling over your words trying to get them out as best you can without reverting to your shy self when it comes to intimate subjects.

“Fucked that what you’re stumbling over?” Full smirk hidden behind her own plan mug. “Have you talked to him about why?” Shaking your head, eyes downcast biting your bottom lip in apprehension. “Communication is key for a health relationship sweetheart you know that.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to? Maybe he’s changed his mind and doesn’t know how to tell me,” everything spilling out in a rush. Looking from the mug in your hands that Will bought you just last month to her kind eyes going soft with understanding. “I think I’m falling in love with him and it scares the fucking hell out of me.”

Laughter full and deep leaves her lips, making you frown ready to pop her shoulder. “I’m sorry sweetie truly but I could’ve told you that just from how you talk about him. I’m not trying to make light of the situation in the least, but the two of you are as transparent as me and Frankie.” Patting your hand she takes giving a firm squeeze. “You should talk to him. Explain what you want and ask why he’s holding back.”

Neither women hear the front door open, keys quietly pressed into the glass dish on the end table behind the couch. Toeing his boots off by the front door, Will shrugs the jacket from his broad shoulders. Hearing your sweet voice tinged with uncertainty has a frown forming between his eyes.

“I know, I’m just unsure how he’ll feel when I finally tell him. Only three months into our relationship but I’m done waiting,” hands coming up to hide your face in exasperation. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings but fuck I need more.”

Nodding, eyes catching a shadow hovering around the outer archway into the kitchen. “You won’t know how he’ll take it till you explain yourself Y/N. Trust me when I say it’s not for the reasons you may think.” Trying to keep the smirk from her tone as Will rounds the corner.

“Something you want to tell me honey?” Making you jump but not turn to face him. Will tries to tramp down his fear at hearing your words. True the relationship is new but he couldn’t see his life with you in it, bringing the sunshine in those dark days. Watching as she gets up from the table placing a kiss to your forehead before coming over to him.

Hand resting on his chest giving a soft pat, “Tell her about next week Ironhead and stop hiding things from each other for Christ sake or I’ll sic Frankie on you to.” Tapping a little harder for emphasis before tossing over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow at work girlie have fun tonight,” before taking her leave the same way Will came in.

Staring at your slumped back for a few moments, Will steps towards you right as you stand collecting the mugs to wash. Bumping into each other Will takes the cups from your hands, soft grin splitting his lips upon seeing his present.

“You know I have mug’s here, you don’t have to keep bringing yours with you,” setting the cups in the sink, he turns to lean against the counter, hands on either side, body open much like his expression.

Nodding, hands clasp in front of you twisting fingers in nervousness the movements pressing your generous breasts together and capturing his gaze. Clearing your throat, “I know but I happen to like that mug. It’s special,” finally meeting his stormy blue eyes. Seeing there darker and slightly blown, “You hungry?”

“Yes,” voice gruff with arousal that he tries to clear then speaks again. “Can we talk first?”

Worried about what could come next swiping your tongue over the full bottom lip capturing it to pull between your teeth making small indentations into the skin, “Bout what?” Cautiously stepping towards him wondering how much of your conversation he’d heard.

“Us,” reaching out to take your hand, tugging you towards the living room. Sitting down first patting the space beside him which you take intertwining your fingers back with his once comfortable. Needing the contact for the moment to get through the conversation.

“What about us?” Staring at joined hands, resolutely keeping your eyes away from looking into his. Thoughts chasing each other around your mind like cats after mice. Wondering if you could still back out and run home to hide. Insecurities doing damage to your confidence Will’s helped build over the last three months.

Not letting you shy away from him, Will pinches your chin upward to capture your eyes. “What are you done waiting for?” Trying to keep his eyes pinned to yours instead of watching your lips or the gentle rise and fall of your breasts covered in a Burgundy blouse with a v deep that shows the twins off to perfection.

Gathering your thoughts and nerves, going for blunt and ripping the bandaid in one. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Of all the things Will’s prepared for your blunt answer isn’t one of them and surely not how you put it either. “You’ve been hanging around Fish and the misses too long.”

Eyes rolling hard a small snort leaving your lips as you try to pull your chin from his grip. “You wanted to know Will so answer the question.” When that didn’t work you tug your hand free to cross with its partner under your breasts.

“Actions speak better than words sweetheart,” gripping your arms, Will tugs you close. “Come here,” patting his lap your head shaking no garnering an impatience huff from his lips. Ignoring your resolute posture, Will grabs a leg and matching arm to manhandle you over his lap, shocked gasp parting your bitten lips. Till your thick thighs press into the couch on either side of his own. Rough hands drifting over your curves in reverence to settle around your waist. Gripping the softness of your body with enough pressure to keep you still. “Tell me honey what do you feel?”

Bitting off a whimper to turn into an annoyed huff from your chest, hands going to his shoulders in the bid to keep from straddling his lap and sitting your weight into his body. The resounding growl vibrates through his chest noticing your efforts to keep from settling in his lap. Will uses his superior strength to press your curves against his angles. “Im too heavy for…” last words choked off as a gasp pushes passed first. Eyes fluttering shut at the hard ridge of his cock against your jeans covered folds.

“Feel me baby? Feel how hard you’ve made me with just those simple movements of this fucking gorgeous body,” words escaping through clinched teeth. Gritting to keep from taking you right there on his couch like some horny teenage.

Unable to stop your own hips from undulating against his, trying to find the right friction. Making your thighs shake, your head drops to his shoulder as he gathers you into the warmth of his embrace. “Could…” swallowing, burying your nose against the warmth of his musky cologne peppered with hints of pine and cedar scented neck. “You could have a flash light hidden in there or a Tootsie roll stashed in your pocket.” Going for a teasing tone but it comes out breathless, filled with barely repressed passion.

Gruff laughter, deep and warm shakes his chest, “Fuck you’re dangerous woman.” Brushing his lips over the shell of your ear, nipping the delicate skin with sharp teeth pleased at the gasp he draws from your mouth. Making you shutter around him, your hips rock twice more before his large callused hands pause there movements dusting his fingers under the hem of your blouse to touch skin. “Trust me honey when I say that’s no flashlight.”

Repressing the shiver coiled to roll down you back, you reluctantly pull back to cup his cheek, thumb brushing just under his left eye, “Prove it to me Captain.”

Low groan leaves his lips, resting your foreheads together. “God I want to honey so fucking much,” swallowing harshly raising his face so you could see the truth in his eyes. “When I make love to you for the first time Y/N I don’t want you to have any doubts about why or if I’m sticking around.”

“I know you aren’t going anywhere Will,” leaning in to give him a chase kiss. “I just, I need more want more of you. All of you,” returning back to sitting on your knees, arms wrapped around his neck to catch his eye. Fingers card through the short locks blunt nails scrapping the scalp gently receiving a pleasure moan from the man under you.

Cupping your cheeks, “You have me honey I promise you.” Bringing your mouth in for a deeper kiss. That barely brushed first press only serves to spark a hunger in his veins and a need to taste you. Slotting his lips over yours nipping the bottom one to make you gasp and slide his hot tongue into your warm mouth. Tangling the talented muscle with your own one hand sliding to carefully cradle the back of your neck. The other slipping down into a back pocket of your jeans, pressing you down against his harden cock and rocking you over his body. Slick gathering, dripping and coating your tights with each tangle and brush of his masterful tongue. Pulling another whimper of need from the depths of your soul.

Air becoming a need and the only reason you break apart panting and gathering as much into your burning lungs. “Your gonna need to stop kissing me like that William or I won’t be held responsible for what I might do.”

The use of his full name pulled a deep groan of need from his chest. The way you move against him doesn’t help his resolve to wait and make things special. “You’re making things extremely hard right now sweetheart.”

“Oh it’s hard all right,” soft squeak exists your lips when he squeezes your ass, pushing your drenched core down against his erection a little harder. “I’m blame you for that one Mr. Miller,” eyes close to gather yourself before carefully untangling your bodies. An almost impossible endeavor with the tight grip he has on you. Holding back the giggle when you see a pout on his plush lips that you lean forward and kiss twice, “No pouts, you said we’re waiting and I’m going to hold you to that. So,” standing hands on your wide hips brow arched in challenge as you look down at him. Slowly licking your lips at the tempting sight he presents you. Tight black t-shirt covering a sculpted body of equal parts strength and softness. Arms crossing over that massive chest to glare up at you. “Put that glare away to, it’s your fault there will be no more kisses or hot make out sessions till we make love. I can’t trust myself,” eyes rolling at the smirk sliding over his kiss swollen lips. “Not to tear your clothes off and fuck you right there,” pivoting on the ball of your bare feet to head towards the kitchen. Trying to ignore the throbbing of your clit only amplified by each step away, and the fact you’ve soaked your favorite pair of panties in seconds because of Will Miller.

“Tear my clothes off huh? Wanna get me naked that badly honey?” Getting a soft giggle in response but no actual words. Calling after you with, “We’re not done talking woman. Get back here,” low growl leaving his lips watching the sway of that generous ass he desperately wants to get his hands on. “Where you going?”

“Dinner, we can finish our conversation in there,” tossing the words over your shoulder as you keep walking.

Grumbling, Will stands adjusting himself to relieve at least some pressure from his cock. Wondering if he’ll make it through a bad case of blue balls intact. “Can’t I just…” the flow of words halt seeing you bent over in the refrigerator searching. Ass a ripe peach just begging to be bit into.

“Just what baby?” Grabbing the salmon fillets, broccoli crowns and the bag of potatoes to stand. Turning to look back over at Will, who’s just standing in the doorway. Trying not to give away how his presents effects you, “You okay?”

Gulping twice, “Yup prefect,” teeth gritting at the adorably sweet look on your face. Unaware of the affect on his body and heart you have. “Need help?”

“Please,” bright smile tipping his own lips up to match yours. Head resting on his shoulder for a moment before you raise up on your toes to kiss him chastely. “You can cut the potatoes up while I take care of the broccoli,” setting everything down on the island to grab up two knives and bowels. Setting to work as Will slides up beside you, arms brushing while you both work. “What else did you want to talk about?”

“Vacation,” small gasp alerts him to your slight distress. “Yes your best friend told me but I’d like to know why my girlfriend didn’t?”

Silently cutting the broccoli from center stem, searching for words to answer. “I didn’t want to take you from your job,” giving a slight shrug. “Besides I don’t really have the money to go anywhere. I’d still come over every night or we could go out on day trips.”

“Sweetheart you mean more to me than some job ever will,” pausing for a moment to kiss your temple. Small guilty grin spreads over his lips, “What about a road trip?” Glancing towards you, admiring the beautiful profile filling his vision. Not paying attention to cutting up the potatoes Will accidentally slices a small cut into his forefinger. Hiss sounds from his parted lips yanking his hand back from the cutting broad to check the damage.

Catching the noise frown pulling your lips down seeing the bright red drops of blood pearling on the side of his finger near the tip. Training kicks in, grabbing for the paper towel to wrap around the wound. “Sit at the table,” voice holding a slight stern note as you rush off to the bathroom for the first aid kit and rubbing alcohol.

“No need to fuse so honey I’ve had worse in my life than a scratch,” calling after you though your actions warm a part of Will he’s long buried to keep from getting hurt.

Though he can’t see it you still shake your head, “Small as it maybe handsome infection can still set in and do damage just sit your sexy ass down and I’ll return shortly.”

Entering right as Will drops down into the chair, you drag another forwards to sit. Opening the large plastic med kit and pulled items you’ve stocked up. Damping a couple small gauze squares and carefully taking the blooded paper towel from his finger. “I’m sorry,” compassionate gaze in your eyes that lock with his while gently dabbing the wound. Hearing a pained hiss exist his tightly held together lips. “My big strong Delta Focus Captain wincing at a little cut,” playfulness dancing in your eyes that stay locked with his bright blues that narrow on your face.

“I’m injured and you pick on me,” taunting words as he keeps your eyes ensnared. “Where’s that bedside manners I’ve heard so much about?”

Narrowing your own eyes playfully still wiping the blood away, “I don’t show my bedside manner to just any soldier.” Small snicker escapes finishing the cleaning task. “Though you’re special so I just might.” Dropping your eyes to inspect and make sure he wouldn’t need stitches. “Tis a scratch my brave warrior you’ll survive,” giving him a cheeky smile, proceeding to finish bandaging the small cut lovingly.

Placing a gentle kiss once covered, glancing up into his eyes another gasp leaving your mouth this one different as heat floods your body. Pupil’s blown to crowd out the beautiful blue irises you love staring into. Scorching with the intensity, making you wonder how your body isn’t ash on the floor. Tongue peeks out to wet your lips dragging the bottom back between your teeth to press into trying to keep from whimpering.

Watching every movement warring internally with himself, equal parts wanting to wait for the right moment and having come to the time now. Your mischievous banter making his heart skip a beat and expand with the very emotion he’s tried to put into words from the moment he met you. Knowing these simple gestures, the care with which you show him, how delicate you’re being or the soft press of your lips into his skin, shouldn’t ignite the desire in his blood. But here he is hard as stone with thoughts of taking you right in this very kitchen. “Come here honey,” voice deep and filled with passionate need.

“What about our trip planning?” Swallowing your desire to obey his command, staying for a moment in your chair. “We keep getting side tracked it’ll never get planned.”

Groaning, he hooks the legs of your chair with his feet to drag the seat closer till each of your legs slide between his. Hands gliding up your plush thighs, leaning forward and into your space, those deliciously callused large hands coming to rest on your hips. “Would you be angry if I said I’ve planned everything already?”

Shock makes your eyes go wide then narrow slightly, “How long have you known I was taking off?” Trying to suppress the shiver wanting to run down your frame when those nimble fingers seek out the patch of skin just under your shirt. Drawing patterns that make you squirm in your seat and try to get away from giving up the secret that your back is sensitive to touch. Most especially his as desire filled fire dances across your skin heating your blood.

“First of the month,” licking his lips slowly wanting his plans to be a surprise. But figuring now is a good a time as any, “I planned us leaving this Friday after work, everything packed the night before. Head to Arizona and drive through Navajo Nation’s Monument Valley Park.” Tracing little patterns over your soft sides as he speaks, “Do some camping, I even got us a tent attachment for the truck. Unless camping isn’t something you want to do?” Concerned lacing his tone while berating himself for not asking sooner.

Love blooms crowding out the doubts from earlier, soft smile tugging at your lips as you lean forward to place them gently to his. Hand coming up to cup the side of his whiskered cheek. Teasing the seam with the tip of your tongue, “I happen to love camping William. Just one request?” Words ghosted over his mouth as you speak, adding two more chase kisses and pulling back to study his warring features.

“Request away honey I’ll give you anything you ask for.” Fingers stilling on your skin a moment, breath held tightly waiting for your answer.

Brushing your thumb over his bottom lip, soft gasp leaving when he playfully nips at the tip. “Would we snuggle in our tent?”

“Of,” clearing his parched throat, wondering if that’s the only question. “Of course sweetheart I gotta keep you warm after all.”

Shyly glancing from his lips up to those desire blown eyes, “Would you make love to me in our tent?”

Damn near swallowing his tongue at your question. “If that’s what you want,” hands flattening out over your back under the blouse you wear. His touch making you squirm in his arms. Interest peeked by your movements and how your trying to escape his hands. “Something wrong sweetheart?” Watching in fascination as your eyes grow dark, libs getting heavy with arousal. Thighs pressing together seeking out some way to put friction on your clit. When you don’t answer him, Will drags his palms over your back slowly, garnering a low lusty moan from your lips. “Answer me honey is something wrong?”

Mesmerized by the slow drag of your tongue across your lips, eyes opening and filled with dark passions. One hand coming down to rest on his thigh making his cock twitch painfully in his jeans. “No sir though if you keep dragging those wonderful hands over my back you’ll have something to take care of.”

Low growl rumbles from deep within his chest at your emphasis on sir. Will files that away for a later discussion along with the fact that you so readily complied with his order. Another twitch makes a groan slip free, fingers digging into your soft hips to tug you forward and onto his thigh. The force making you collapse into his chest, hands gripping the back of his chair. “You’re making this really hard to keep my promise sweetheart.”

Swallowing to moisten your dry throat, “Something is hard that’s for sure and it’s poking my leg right now.” Using your position and pressing into his thigh that flexes under you. Hips rocking in slow teasing motions, making a whimper leave your chest, head dropping to rest on his shoulder. “Touch me Will please,” ghosting your lips over his neck to nibble the patch right behind his ear. Feeling the shuttering gasp leave his body at the intimate touch.

Pleading tone breaks him of the resolve to wait and he wraps his arms around your waist, bouncing his leg under you. Flexing the muscles just perfectly to get a gasp of pleasure to tumble from your parted lips. Breath fanning out over the mark you’ve left on his skin just south of his ear. “Thats my girl so fucking responsive,” remembering your words and movements from a moment ago, Will brushes the pads of his fingers over your back.

Squirming in his arms a flood of arousal washes through your system making a whimper sound as you try to move away from those wicked fingers. “William,” his name existing on a whine of need as your teeth sink into the skin of his neck between shoulder and thick corded column.

Grunting at the simple bite, body taunt like a bow string, ready to snap at a moments notice. Never this hard in his life feeling like a teenager again and unable to control himself. For you though he reigns in that need along with the desire to control the situation. A discussion tabled till later when he’s not desperate to sink balls deep into your warmth.

Soothing voice stating, “Tell me what you need honey, I wanna hear everything and then give you what you want.” Sneaking his hands back under your blouse to touch soft skin. Interested by the fact you jump a whimper following close by more squirming in his arms. Light bulb going off in his mind. “Are you aroused sweetheart? Does my touch have that much of an affect on you?”

Nodding against his chest where your head now rests on his collarbone, gasping for breath. Slick flooding your clinching channel that aches with each contraction. Clit throbbing with a deep need your sure only Will can fulfill. “You don’t have to sound so smug,” whimpering the words as his fingers brush along your spine till reaching the destination your bra clasp would rest. “It’s front closer,” raising your head, gathering your strength to rock over his thigh. Letting him feel the damp heat of your core, knowing it not long and his jeans will have a soaked patch just as your ruined panties already do.

“I’d say I’m sorry honey but I wouldn’t mean it.” Carefully bunching the blouse upward till he pulls it from your plush body. Tossing it somewhere behind him not caring where it lands just the position of his hands spread out over your back. Breasts filling a pretty purple swirled bra, temping his eyes and making his mouth water at the sight. “So beautiful,” leaning forward to graze slightly chapped plush lips over the tops of your heaving breasts. “Remember when you asked me if I was hungry?”

Puzzled, desired coated eyes lock with the passion filled blues, slow nod bobbing your head. “Are you seriously stopping so we can cook?” Eyes narrow seeing a smirk pull at his bearded cheeks. On shaky legging you stand pulling your bottom lip back between your teeth to bite while your hands that he watches with peeked interest come to open the front clap on your bra. Keeping the cups in place you turn and only then drop the bra into his lap, “Shame I guess it’s plan B then.”

Standing quickly, gripping your hips to pulling you back into his arms that wrap around our thick waist giving you a squeeze. “Plan B?” Eyes dropping to see hands covering your breasts.

“Uh hmm, since your hungry I’ll let you eat while I go pleasure myself,” warm breath fanning out over your skin, mouth trailing kisses along the spine of your shoulder. Beard giving a delicious burn to your skin that sends a shiver through your frame. Normal insecurities long forgotten with the heat of his mouth against your skin. Those little nagging voices silenced by the hard press of his body and ridged shaft into the clef of your ass. The simple reason you’ve managed to stand in front of this man half naked and not run away belonged too Will. Who’s made you see with all the caresses, endless amount of kisses and words reminding you everyday how beautiful he sees you.

“The fuck you will sweetheart,” sexy growl vibrates against your ear. Nipping the shell, “Move your hands baby I never want you to hide yourself from me. I wanna see all of you,” callused palms flat against your tummy, caressing the soft skin almost reverently.

Obeying his command, body becoming pliant against his chest as your arms slide away. Replaced by the warmth of his larger hands, gently massaging each globe feeling the nipples harden and poke his callused palm. “If you’re teasing me William Miller I’ll beat your ass,” wanting the words to come out hard and full of authority. Instead issue forth on a moan chased by a whimper when his fingers pluck at your harden nipples. Tugging, drawing circles around the rippled areola hearing your breath hitch your head lolling back to rest on his shoulder.

Dark chuckle leaves his lips brushing over your exposed neck, “Never sweetheart.” Turning you in his arms, to lock eyes as he lowers his mouth to yours. Capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, a battle of teeth and tongues. Hands groping your ass pulling you into his arms tighter. Your own wrapping around his neck, holding on like a life preserver in stormy seas. Fingers carding through his short hairs to tug being rewarded with a lusty growl.

Breaking, panting for air, “Still hungry?”

“I”m starved sweetheart,” walking till your back hits the cool wall. Hands splayed out around you while his body pins you in place, “It’s not food I want.”

Swallowing harshly, head tipping back to expose your neck which Will takes advantage up. Lips closing over your thumping pulse point returning the marking favor. As your nails scratch lightly through his dirty blond hair, tugging at the strands to urge him up towards your mouth. “Then what?”

Rebelling against your urgent tugs, taking your hands from his head. Placing them on his shoulders his own making a slow trek from wrist to arm, ghosting over the parts of your biceps he knows you hate. To your shoulders, gripping them tightly for a moment, as your eyes lock and you see the intend in those stormy blue orbs. “You,” licking his lips just thinking about giving your honeyed folds a taste. “I’m a starving man sweetheart and I’m gonna make you my last meal,” his words coming out on a growl that shoots straight to your core. Need throbbing your clit and press your thick thighs together trying to find friction, desire filled heat exploding out over your body.

Whimpering, “Later,” needing him right then to sooth the ache building in your core, spreading out to tingle your tummy, heart beating triple time against your ribs. “I need you Will please. I need you to fill me, fuck me, just…” grasping at words to explain how much you need this man standing still clothed in front of you.

Raking your nails down his hard chest, to dance across his toned stomach, gripping the t-shirt and yanking it over his head quickly. Tossing the garment somewhere unknown for the moment to press your hands into his skin. Heat embracing your palms, running the flat of them over his tawny skin and lowering your mouth to press kisses to his sternum. Bitting softly to drag a groan from the man surrounding you.

“Is that what you want sweetheart? You need me that badly?”

Raising your head determination fighting with desire in your eyes, gathering your courage to speak exactly what you want. “I need you desperately, I want you like no other man before. Your in my blood baby and I want you inside me,” slowly licking your lips you push his stunned body back enough so you can wiggle from between his wall of muscle and the actually wall. Pausing to brush your lips over his ear, “I want you to ruin me William, wreck me so badly I can’t walk tomorrow and feel it for the rest of the week.” Pressing your lips to his cheek before walking towards the bedroom.

Leaving Will frozen to stare at the wall you previously stood, hands fisting to reign in the desire so potentate he’s surprised the seams of his jeans haven’t split with how hard he’s become. Breath exiting quickly as he leans into the surface for a moment till a soft moan echos from his room. Head whipping up, almost fearing a broke neck, straining his hearing to listen for another sound. This one a whimper of his name rips a growl from his mouth, feet taking up the path you proceeded first. Finding your Capri jeans dropped two feet from the bedroom, purple lace panties dangling from the doorknob.

Pausing in the doorway filling the entrance with his wide imposing body eyes glazed over at what his vision takes in. There sprawled out over his bed the love of his life. Making that two things he’s filing away to think about later. Back arched, one hand tugging and twisting at your nipples the other toying with your clit. Drawing slow circles over the pulsing pearl, “Will please.” Another whimper existing your vocal cords, thick thighs shaking with need.

Shucking off his jeans, box briefs tented and barely containing his throbbing cock that he palms a moment to get himself under control. That snaps the second your eyes open to focus on his. Sliding two fingers into your quivering cunt to pump slowly. Deep grunt exists, feet eating up the distance to the bed, palm slapping down over your quivering clit making you gasp and close your thighs against the sensations rocketing through your body.

“No,” single word growled out, arousal flowing freely as Will gets on the bed. Parting your thick shaking thighs to wedge himself between. Fingers yanked from your dripping center and brought to his mouth to taste. Long low moan vibrating through his chest at the honeyed flavor of your essence. Sucking both fingers clean before placing that hand on his ridged cock. Chin dropping to chest when you cup the girth of him through the fabric, fingers dancing slowing over the pulsing veins. All thought of being gentle escapes his mind when you moan. “Top draw sweetheart grab a condom for me while I have my second taste.” When you don’t move to comply right away, Will lands another smack to your cunt garnering a moan of need from your chest. Hips cantering upward in a desperate bid for friction or to be filled. “My girl likes that huh?” Seeing the nod he groans, thumb brushing over your clit twice getting a mewl from you this time. “Words honey, use them and tell me if you like when I slap your pretty cunt.”

“Yes sir,” gasping at the feeling of his moist breath fanning over your burning skin. Chase kisses planted all around except the one place you need him most. “Please Will.”

Smirking from between your thick thighs spread open for his hungry mouth. Hands splayed over soft skin brushing back and forth to drag a shiver from your body. “Please what honey?” Not letting you answer, lips forming a perfect O around your clit and sucks deeply. Wicked tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird in flight. Extricating a scream of pleasure from your panting lips, back arching as hands shot down to card through his thick hair. Tugging on the locks harshly, trying to rut against his face. Whimpering when he pulls away to smack your pussy to reel your orgasm back in. Licking his lips of your essence, missing the bits still clinging to his bearded chin. “I need an answer sweetheart.”

Head raising to half way on shaky elbows, glaring down at him, unprepared for the quick slide of two thick fingers deep into your quivering cunt. Choking out any form of coherent thought and dropping back against the sheets. One hand fisting the dark blue fabric as the other cups a breast, tugging at the nipple and adding little pinches to the gathering storm of need. Feeling those delicious tingles of pleasure lighting across your spine, dancing through your belly as the coil winds tighter in your body. With every thrust of those fingers, crooked upwards in a come hither movement, brushing against that little sponge spot making stars explode behind your eyes.

Pride, desire and love dance across his veins at seeing you so wanton under his administrations. Carefully yet quickly opening you up by adding a third finger to stretch you. Pleasurable burn short circuiting what’s left of your thoughts, instead focusing on the indulgence of those thick fingers bottom knuckle deep inside you. “Look at you sweetheart, spread out over my bed, fingers deep inside this pretty cunt making you wither and moan my name. Fuck if you aren’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Mouth connecting with your clit dragging another loud moan of his name from your lips.

“Like that Will, just fucking like that,” mumbling words, head thrashing against the pillows wanting to hold off till he’s inside you but with every thrust of the skilled fingers. Mouth drawing out different letters of the alphabet to make you quiver around his body. Moans and whimpers dripping from your lips punctuated with his name and various words of pleading. “Close Captain so fucking close.”

“Cum for me sweetheart, fucking soak my hand and the bed under you.” Groaning at the use of his rank, cock twitching painfully inside the tight cotton confines of his black boxer briefs. Watching your back arch when he draws your clit between his lips and sucks hard, tongue flicking quickly to match his fingers. Groans added vibrations to your pleasure as his fingers keep the same quick pace sending you flying over the edge at his command careening into your orgasm. Breath gasping from your lungs, thighs trying to close around his head, shaking from the effort before they drop flat to the bed. His broad body blocks there bid as he works you through the high. Fingers sloshing through your soaked walls, mouth dropping to catch each drip to savor. Pulling from the squeezing depths that try to weakly suck them back in to his mouth and lick them clean.

Surging up your body, cotton covered cock slotted against your soaked folds. Groaning when you weakly start to rut against him, eyes fluttering open to see him hovering over you on his forearms. “Hello there my Captain,” wrapping your arms around his neck and quickly bringing his lips to crash against yours. Nipping and tasting the remains of your tangy essence from his tongue that you promptly suck into the hot cavern of your mouth. Pulling a groan from the man above you who rocks against your drenched folds slick soaking through the cotton.

Blindingly reaching over to open the top draw, grabbing a condom as your hands work to take his underwear off. Sighing in relief at being free, both of you fumbling together while lips are still locked in a heated battle. Gasping for breath and angling mouths to draw in air through your noses, sharing the hot commodity. Only breaking on a growl when your hand wraps around his hot shaft giving a hard squeeze and starting to pump slowly. Foreheads resting together, dragging the palm of your hand over the weeping crown, gathering the precum for lubrication. Till he pushes your hand away getting a huff of annoyance from your pouting lips.

“Put that lip away sweetheart before I put you over my lap and spank that pretty ass of yours.” Ripping the condom package with his teeth and fingers, pulling the thin piece of latex from the confines. Only to have you snatch it up and slide down under him till your level with his throbbing cock.

Placing a kiss to the angry red crown, lapping at the slit and getting a hiss from the man shaking above you. Smirk he doesn’t see but hears when you say, “You can owe me a punishment Captain but I wanted my taste.” Giving little kitty licks around the crown several more times. Enjoying how your making him shake, and rut against your body. You pull away to slide the condom over his cock, one last kiss to the head before shimming your plush frame against his and back up towards the pillows. Arms going around his neck to pull him back in for another kiss.

Only to chase his mouth that he refuses to give you his lips, “Think your cute huh?” Rising up on his knees to spread your thighs over his, opening you up wide for him. Hands trailing over your body teasingly slow, pausing to pinch both nipples. Getting a whine from your chest that makes a smirk pull at his lips. Desire darken eyes lock with yours, “By the way sweetheart,” brow arched. Left hand wrapping around his cock pumping a few times before notching at your dripping entrance. Teasing you with just barely pushing the head in and back out. “That was one, I plan to pull at least three more from you before tonight is through.”

Eyes widen at his declaration, “You…” choking on the words you’d planned to say with the hard thrust of his cock deep inside your tight channel. Silent scream forms on your lips, air quickly expelled by the force, hands scrabbling to grip his shoulders.

Pausing to let you adjust to his girth, Will dips to capture a stiff peaked nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. While arranging one thigh against your chest and draping the leg over his shoulder repeating the action with the twin. Folding you almost in half and sliding that much deeper into your pulsing depths letting your breast go to drop his head between them placing kisses trying to reign himself in. Not wanting to loose control and cum too soon.

“Fuck sweetheart your so tight and wet for me,” moist breath heating your skin. Setting a hard punishing pace that has the head broad slamming into the wall with his masterful thrusts. Puling out till just the cock head rests at your entrance before surging forward hard and deep. Eyes rolling back as you gasp, clutching at his shoulders slick with sweat.

Beading across his hairline to slide down his cheeks, cupping them with trembling hands and bringing his mouth back to yours in a desperate kiss. Tangling your tongues together, one leg slipping from his shoulder to wrap around his waist pressing into his pert ass and pushing him deeper if possible. The sheer girth of him splitting you open as he takes you hard and deep. Nipping his tongue twice and pulling away to gasp out just trying to gather air into your lungs. “Will,” name whimpered passed your lips fire dancing across your veins demanding more.

“I know sweetheart, fuck I know,” growling low bringing your other leg to wrap around his waist. Reaching up to grip the head broad, thrusts shortening but still deep and quick. Chasing that high he knows isn’t long in coming with the way your walls quiver around him. “Honey you gotta give me another one, need you to cum for me.” Gritting his teeth, looking over your beautiful face soaking in the look of pleasure painted over your features, coated in sweat and desperation pinching your brows.

Eyes tightly closed, little stars exploding, his words filtering through the sexual haze he’s brought over you. Heavy libs flutter open to watch him above you, rippling muscles, biceps flexing around you. Hands caress his back, coaxing his hands down to cage you in and press you deeper into the mattress. Hiking your legs higher on his waist, feeling his pelvis grind down against your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure to crest over you. Slipping one hand between your bodies needing a little push, only to have it brushed aside by Will’s larger hand.

Callused fingers circling the little pulsing nub of your clit getting a breathy moan from your throat that chokes off into scream of his name ripped from your lips. Orgasm washing over your body, making you float between paradise and reality soaking his cock and making you gasp for breath, body shaking while surrounded by Will. His musky cologne, pine and cedar mixing with the scent of sex a heady fragrance that tingles your scenes. Silently chanting his name while he works you through the release. Little after shocks dance through your limbs, holding him closer and squeezing your still pulsing walls around him tighter. Feeling your slick spill out around him coating your inner thighs and down into the sheets.

Bringing your mouth back to his for a sweet slow kiss, tangling your tongues together dragging a moan from the depths of his soul. Pace starting to falter with every quiver and clutch of your wet depths. Breaking apart to gasp for air, lungs burning, cock throbbing for release twice more he thrusts into your clutch channel. Emptying himself into the condom, movements slowing till he’s spent and drops carefully into your waiting arms.

Brushing your fingers through his soaked hair, head resting between your own heaving breasts. Feeling moist air against your damp skin, hands sliding down his back, basking in the afterglow, “Definitely can’t get side tracked while packing.”

Pressing a kiss between your breasts looking up through heavy libs, “Why’s that honey?”

“We’ll never leave,” soft giggles leaving your lips. Watching as Will raises up pressing kisses to each of your nipples, dipping to press one to your neck on one of the many marks he left behind. Brushing his beard over the sensitive skin of your throat, groaning when you clutch him tightly. “Not sure if I want to now. Might keep you in this bed that whole week instead,” smirk turned groan when he pulls from your depths carefully. Placing a quick kiss to your lips before sliding to the edge of the bed to tug the spent condom off, tying and tossing it into the trash bin on the other side of the night stand.

Rolling to your side, head propped up on your hand watching as Will raises and heads to the bathroom to clean up. Admiring his firm ass, the play of muscles with each step, tongue peeking out to lick your lips at the delicious sight he presents you. On his return trip you shamelessly ogle his front, tugging your lip back between your teeth. “Fuck your gorgeous baby,” soft smile replacing the salacious smirk.

“I can say the same about you sweetheart,” warm wet cloth in hand, he coaxes you to lay back and wipe the remains of your slick from your tender folds.

“Hmm, thank you William,” feeling shy in that moment, watching him toss the cloth into the hamper, before crawling into bed behind you.

Strong arms wrap around your soft body to pull you against his hard chest, “Never have to thank me for taking care of you sweetheart.”

Turning in his arms to rest face to face, placing a hand on his cheek, “Only if I get to thank you in other ways?”

“And those would be?” Leaning close to rest your foreheads together. The arm around your waist pulls you flush against him warm palm cupping your ass getting a squeak from your kiss swollen lips.

Tracing patterns over his tanned chest, circling a nipple giving a light pinch to the peaked tip. “You’ll have to wait and see, I won’t give away all my tricks so soon Tootsie roll.”

“Tootsie roll?” Playful growl leaves his lips pushing you onto your back and hovering over you. “Oh sweetheart I’ll show you Tootsie roll.”

Giggling and squirming under him thinking your life couldn’t be any better. With the man of your dreams giving you delicious beard burn and loving your body like no other.

Till the weekend rolls around and you get to give him one of those special thank you’s. Waking him up with your warm mouth pleasuring him as the sun rose outside your tent and his deep moans echoing pleased smirk on your lips the rest of the day with how weak you made him that morning.

#Writer Wednesday #William 'Ironhead' Miller x Plus Size F!Reader #William 'Ironhead' Miller x Plus Size Fem!Reader #William 'Ironhead' Miller x Plus Size Female Reader #William Miller x Plus Size Fem!Reader #William Miller x Plus Size F!Reader #William Miller x Plus Size Female Reader #Triple Frontier story #Triple Frontier boys

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tsukishumai · 4 years ago

Note

Hii. Can I please get 21 with akaashi? :)) also L O V E your work

+ Oops forgot to say my pronouns are she/her (for the 21 Akaashi) have a good dayy

Thanks for the request ! And tysm I love you <3

send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

21. “I haven’t seen her/him/them smile like that in ages.”

Tags: mentions of alcohol/cigarettes, & meeting the parents lol

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I was having the worst case of writers block but anyway I’m kinda back I’m not sure if I like this one but I hope you do! Lmk ur thoughts <3

Akaashi put the finishing touches on the wooden board he laid out on the table, placing star-shaped fruit in empty spaces to make everything look vibrant and colorful.

“Whoa, where’d you learn how to make that?” you asked as you walked into the kitchen, two wine glasses balanced between your fingers in one hand and a large bottle of Cabarnet Sauvignon in the other.

“I saw a few posts online,” Akaashi stood back and admired his charcuterie board, nodding in satisfaction at how the salami river looked traveling between the mountains of brie and cheddar. “Do you think your parents will like it?”

You smile to yourself, wanting to point at that that’s the seventh time in thirty minutes that he’s asked if your parents would like something. But you figure the beads of sweat forming on Akaashi’s forehead indicated just how nervous he felt, so you placated him with, “I think they’re going to love it, Keiji.”

His lips twitched in some semblance of a smile for just one second before he brings a knuckle up to his lip.

“Or maybe I should put out fig jam instead of raspberry jam? Fig jam goes really well with brie, but I like the color of the raspberry jam better…”

Akaashi’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

“Too late, they’re here,” you practically giggled with excitement, setting down the wine glasses on the dinner table. Akaashi quickly started adjusting his shirt, pulling at the collar and tugging at the hem before you stepped in front of him. You gave a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, and said, “Don’t worry, Keiji. I just know they’re going to love you.”

The two of you opened the front door of your shared apartment in tandem, Akaashi standing back and smiling nervously as you threw your arms around your parents. He knows how much you’ve been missing home lately; Tokyo was nothing like your hometown, and he knows all too well the suffocating air of loneliness.

Akaashi liked to think he did everything he could to keep those demons at bay, but even he understands that he could never truly fill the void the same way family could. So when he mentioned inviting your parents over for dinner, offering to pay for the bullet train tickets himself, the excitement you had shown all over your face made him wonder why he didn’t suggest doing so any sooner.

Now that he was standing here, palms sweating as he stood under the scrutinizing gaze of your father, he thinks he maybe could have waited another couple of weeks to meet your parents.

“This is Keiji,” he heard you introduce, and he automatically bent over into a bow.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Akaashi-kun, none of that, get up and give me a hug,” your mother reached over to set Akaashi straight before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Akaashi’s eyes widened in surprise, looking over to you in a slight panic as you simply shrugged. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“I just have to warn you, my mom can be kind of a handful,” you mentioned one evening while you were cooking dinner. Akaashi stood a few feet away from you, diligently chopping the vegetables you had given him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s really affectionate, for one. That alone is enough to throw some people off,” you mumbled, giving the beef in the pot one last stir before transferring it to a plate, “She likes to tease a lot, and you can never take what she says seriously. She laughs at her own corny jokes, not to mention she’s loud.”

You extended a hand out to Akaashi, and he promptly handed you the cutting board full of vegetables. You added them back in the pot, sautéing them gently.

“That sounds exactly like someone I know…” Akaashi quipped, and you threw your kitchen towel at him.

“Shut up and hand me the curry cubes.”

Before Akaashi could even think to bring his arms up and hug your mother back, she quickly let him go and diverted her attention to the stunning display on your dining room table.

“Oh my, what do we have here,” she exclaimed, moving over to examine the variety of crackers, meats and cheeses that Akaashi so artfully placed on a wooden board he bought at the local grocery store down the street.

“Yes, mom, it’s called a charcuterie board…” you quickly went over to show your mom, and Akaashi was left alone with your father.

Akaashi turned back to the stern-faced man, bowing deeply before uttering out his second, “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.”

Much to Akaashi’s relief, your father didn’t throw his arms around him, and simply returned Akaashi’s bow. Akaashi discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his jeans, waving a hand out to motion to the kitchen, “May I get you anything to drink?”

Your father didn’t reply, simply giving Akaashi a soft grunt and walked passed him to where his wife and daughter were laughing. Your mother and you both had a wine glass in hand, sampling different combinations the charcuterie board had to offer. Akaashi observed the way your dad didn’t reach for a wine glass of his own, opting to making himself a bite of salami and gruyere. Akaashi made his way to the refrigerator, grabbing a can from the emergency six pack he bought.

“My dad, on the other hand,” you set down the plate of katsu curry at the head of the dining table for Akaashi, and plate for you in the seat directly to his right, “He doesn’t really say much, but I promise you, he’s a total softy at heart. Don’t let the scowl fool you. He’s like, the total opposite of my mom.”

Akaashi came out of the kitchen carrying to glasses of water, setting one in front of you and one in front of himself before taking his seat at the table. “I guess opposites really do attract, huh?”

You picked up the glass to take a sip, smiling into the rim, “Yeah. I guess that explains me and you.”

Akaashi paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Akaashi nearly gleamed at the nod of acknowledgement from your father when he handed him a beer, nearly laughing at the discreet thumbs up you had given him from behind your mother.

Dinner went by without a hitch. Your mother made it easy, asking Akaashi about the details pertaining to his life, and offering him stories about your childhood. He chuckled at your frustrated groans whenever she whipped out her phone to show him baby pictures, asking her to forward him the one where you’re missing your two front teeth.

Your dad hadn’t said much the whole evening, but the crinkles formed in the corners of his eye all the same when Akaashi said a joke that made his wife and daughter howl with laughter.

“Akaashi,” your father grunted, standing up with a beer in one hand as Akaashi collected the dishes from the table, “Why don’t you join me on the balcony for a moment.”

Akaashi audibly gulped, and you fought a snicker from your throat as your grabbed the plates from Akaashi’s hands. “Go on, I got this.”

Akaashi nodded, feeling like his shoes were made of lead as he followed your father through the sliding door that lead out to the balcony. Akaashi promptly slid the door shut behind him, your father immediately leaning over to prop his elbows on the railing.

“That’s a good view,” he mumbled, waving his hand and motioning for Akaashi to stand beside him.

“Thank you,” Akaashi answered, taking his place next to your dad, “It’s part of the reason we chose this apartment.”

Your father nodded, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He brought the white stick to his lips, lighting the end before inhaling a deep drag.

“I brought you out here because I wanted to thank you,” your father started, catching Akaashi by complete surprise. “I haven’t seen her smile like that in ages.”

Akaashi was stunned, staring at your father dumbfounded as he continued to let out puffs of smoke. A couple of heartbeats pass between the two of you, Akaashi searching for the words and trying hard not to let the tears further cloud his vision.

“I’ll do anything to make her laugh like that,” Akaashi said a little too quickly, coughing over his last word, “Sir.”

Just then, your father laughed, and Akaashi found himself smiling with him.

“That’s a good man. One last thing,” your father put the cigarette out and tossed it in the empty beer can in his hand, “Don’t tell them about this cigarette, okay? I told them I quit.”

Your father gave Akaashi two pats on the shoulder, leaving Akaashi on the balcony feeling like he could just about rule the world.

#akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji x you #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenarios #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu imagines #hq hc #is the TL alive?#hope ya see this

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

all the difference in the world

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone.

---------

“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively.

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing’?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.”

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.”

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.”

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress.

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by.

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?”

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.”

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now.

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door.

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now.

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.”

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?”

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.”

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?”

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.”

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.”

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.”

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.”

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…”

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan.

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple.

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him.

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?”

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics.

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.”

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.”

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat.

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.”

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had.

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody.

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world.

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.”

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.”

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?”

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.”

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.”

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?”

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.”

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.”

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.”

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away.

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.”

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed.

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow.

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?”

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.”

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.”

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls season 2 #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #usermaximus #userac #userbones #tuserpaige

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 5 years ago

Text

Familiar Face - Ukai Keishin x Reader

Summary: Ukai catches up with an old friend who has returned to Miyagi after being gone for 7 years.

Word Count: 4469

Warnings: SMUT. If you are uncomfortable with sex then DON’T READ THIS.

Author’s Note: I like dropping hints that I like older men... I like older men. Also, special thanks to the Haiku Writer’s Chat for helping me with this fic!

Tagging: @cmllnc @haik-whoo

“And look at this picture! He totally went bald, it’s only been a couple years and he’s completely bald!”

Ukai sighed deeply, trying to tune out Shimada’s and Takinoue’s gossip as he flipped through a magazine at the store counter.

Shimada had recently made it a point to friend all their old classmates on FaceBook, claiming it would be good to ‘get in touch’ with everyone and set up a reunion.

Ukai was sure it was an attempt to rekindle old flames with their female classmates.

“Why haven’t you joined FaceBook, Ukai? If you join and you friend me, I’ll only be a couple more people away from having our whole class on here!” Shimada exclaimed, continuing to scroll through his feed while Takinoue looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t need a bunch of strangers to know my business,” Ukai replied, not bothering to glance up at them from his magazine, “If they matter, they’ll already know.”

Shimada huffed before returning to his recommended friends list.

A chirp from the phone followed by an excited gasp caused Ukai to give another irritated sigh.

“(Y/n) friended me back!” Shimada said excitedly.

Ukai finally looked up from the reading material, resisting the urge to completely set it aside and attempt to snatch the phone from his friend’s hands.

“Woah! She looks totally different- she messaged me!”

Well, that was enough for Ukai to toss the magazine aside and try to get a look at the phone.

“What? What’d she say?”

“Oh nowww you’re interested!” Shimada huffed, shielding the phone from Ukai’s eyes. “She said she’s moving back to town for work. She wants to meet for dinner and drinks tonight.”

Ukai would never admit to it, but that made his heart drop. He hadn’t seen or heard from (Y/n) in 7 years.

She decided to go to college in the city, meaning she left everything behind. Including Ukai. After being best friends since middle school (and boyfriend and girlfriend their third year of high school) she just left.

It wasn’t like Ukai didn’t understand. He totally understood why she wanted to go. That didn’t make their breakup any easier though.

“Lucky for you, she’s asking me to invite you and Takinoue.” Shimada smiled, typing out his reply to her.

“What are you saying?” Ukai asked, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair.

“That we’ll see her at 7 at our old spot.” Shimada replied, sending the message before any of them could object. Not that Ukai would.

He would have to haul ass back to the shop from Karasuno, get changed into something presentable, then haul ass to the restaurant. But he would do it if it meant seeing (Y/n) again.

And that is exactly what he did.

He rushed his last words to the team before sprinting out of the gym, leaving the the boys confused and Takeda scrambling to come up with words of encouragement on the spot.

Once Ukai arrived at the restaurant, he was showered and dressed in jeans and a casual button-up. Something to show he tried but not really.

Shimada and Takinoue had seated themselves to face the door, meaning (Y/n)’s back was to Ukai when he arrived. Once the two started to wave Ukai over, (Y/n) turned to look at him and smiled.

Ukai was suddenly 18 years old again; palms sweaty and knees weak from that familiar smile.

“Keishin!” (Y/n) got up from her spot and leapt into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace he wasn’t expecting. “It’s been so long!”

He quickly returned the hug, lifting her off her tip-toes for a moment. “Too long.”

Ukai set her back down, pulling out of the embrace and repressing the blush he had felt creeping up his neck.

The two sat down, all while (Y/n) continued staring at Ukai. “You look so different, look at this hair!” she beamed, lightly tugging on a blonde strand of hair. “You got your ears pierced too!”

“Yeah,” Ukai smiled, scratching at the back of his head, “I went a little overboard after graduation but I think it fits me...” More like after you left...

“Well I love it. It definitely fits you.” (Y/n) smiled, her gaze lingering on him before turning back to her drink.

“Well, let’s toast! To rekindling old friendships!” Takinoue held up his glass, clinking it against the other three.

Ukai watched (Y/n) from the corner of his eye as he sipped at his beer. It was almost room temperature since they ordered it before he arrived, but his thoughts were wandering elsewhere.

It would be way too forward to tell her how beautiful she had gotten in the years she was gone. When they finally got together their third year, she was a budding flower, still beautiful in her own right as a young woman. Now she was fully bloomed, radiant and flawless. A woman.

Rather than spilling his guts to her about how much he missed her and how these past 7 years were agony, Ukai spent the night laughing about old times while also catching up on more recent events.

“You’re really coaching at Karasuno huh? And to think you gave your gramps all that shit for sticking around like that...” (Y/n) smirked, downing the last of her drink.

“This is different, they really needed it.” Ukai smiled, tapping his fingers against his glass.

“You guys really needed it too, though.” she quipped, earning a laugh from Shimada and Takinoue.

“And what about you? You said you came back for work. What work?” Ukai asked, lightly nudging (Y/n) with his elbow.

(Y/n) shrugged, “I’m an athletic trainer and physical therapist. I’m interviewing for a job tomorrow. That’s all I’ll say about it because I don’t want to jinx it.” There was a coy smile playing on her lips. Either it was the alcohol or she was up to something.

“Well good lu-” Ukai was cut off by (Y/n) covering his mouth.

“No! You’ll jinx it!” (Y/n) giggled, keeping her palm firmly against his lips.

Ukai responded in kind by dragging his tongue along her palm, earning a squeal of disgust from (Y/n) as she pulled back.

“Sick! Keep your bodily fluids to yourself!” (Y/n) groaned, wiping her hand on his shirt.

“Need I remind you there was a time when you didn’t mind my spit.” Ukai smirked, looking away from her to hide his slight blush.

“Oh I don’t need any reminders there.” (Y/n) replied, rolling her eyes at him.

“I can’t believe you two dated.” Takinoue sighed, resting his chin on his palm.

Ukai sent a small glare his way.

“N-not as in you two weren’t a good fit! It’s more like... we all kind of expected you both to get together, when it finally happened it was like a dream!” he explained.

“He’s right,” Shimada added, slowly nodding. “No more tip-toeing around each other. No more cat and mouse. Just boom! Ukai and (Y/n)! They’re like an elephant! When they walk into a room it’s like, okay! They’re in there!”

Now there was no hiding the blush on Ukai’s cheeks. He looked down at (Y/n), who had started shuffling in her spot.

“O-okay, judging from his volume I think it’s time to call it a night.” (Y/n) said, checking her phone for the time. “I need to get to bed soonish anyway. Interview’s in the afternoon but I still want time to get ready.”

“I can get him home.” Takinoue said, dropping cash on the table and helping Shimada up. “We’ll catch up again soon.”

Ukai and (Y/n) bid them goodbye as they began fishing for their wallets.

“You back home home? Or have you found a place?” Ukai asked, helping (Y/n) onto her feet once she paid her fair share of the tab.

She shook her head, “Im in a hotel kinda nearby. Thought it would be weird going back to my parents’ place as a 26 year old...”

Ukai chuckled, following her out of the restaurant. “I don’t blame you.”

The two went silent for a bit, shuffling their feet and hesitating to make eye contact.

“...Shimada never could hold his liquor, huh?” Ukai asked, earning a giggle from (Y/n).

“You’d think after all these years he would have learned...” she mused, running a hand through her hair.

They both went silent again until (Y/n) spoke up, her tone conveying an inkling of hope.

“I have to get up early and all but even then... I’m still kind of thirsty...”

Ukai gave her a small smile, “We can get some beer on the house from the shop...?”

(Y/n) smiled back, “I’d like that.”

He offered (Y/n) his arm, hiding his excitement when she linked their arms and began walking with him in the direction of the shop.

He was sure to lock the door behind them, keeping the lights off so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Even though the shop sign read ‘closed,’ some of the Karasuno boys would still try to get in if the lights were on.

“Do we get to drink in the dark the rest of the night?” (Y/n) asked, taking a swig of her drink.

“We can go upstairs... sit in the living room and talk.” Ukai offered, his palms getting sweaty all over again.

Once (Y/n) accepted, he lead her up the staircase in the back of the store, unlocking the door to his flat and letting her enter first.

“Ooooo, bachelor pad.” She teased, looking around the room. It was surprisingly clean, except for the clothes trail towards the shower he had left earlier.

“Nothing to see here!” he shouted, swiping his boxer briefs from off the floor and throwing them into his bedroom.

(Y/n) giggled, turning away to look at the wall decorations he had strung up. Some movie posters, one karasuno poster, and a couple pictures of their friend group in high school.

She paused at a particular photo of the two of them at graduation, smiling fondly at the memory. “Bring a lot of women up here?”

Ukai had been gathering the rest of the clothes on the floor, pausing at the question. “None that are really noteworthy...”

(Y/n) hummed to herself, tearing her eyes away from the picture and making her way to the couch.

“It’s kind of awkward since the town is small... so I’ve kinda stopped doing that.” he explained, retrieving his beer and sitting beside her.

“Kinda?” she asked.

Ukai shrugged, “I’m only human... I slip up and break my own rules every now and then.”

(Y/n) smiled slightly, shaking her head and taking another drink. “Some things never change...” she mumbled against the bottle.

He kept his eyes on her the whole time, tapping his thumb against the glass. “Did you...?”

(Y/n) bit her lip, unwilling to meet his gaze before taking a big swig of her drink.

“You seemed so sure you would before you left... but it still feels like the same (Y/n).” Ukai continued, slowly looking her over.

“Is it bad if I didn’t change?” she asked, staring at a random corner of the room.

“Not at all...” Ukai paused, unable to hold back a sigh before continuing. “It just makes me wonder... why break up if the only thing that really changed was your zip code...”

“I mean- I did change. I grew up, you did too. I just didn’t want it to end badly because of those growing pains.” (Y/n) explained. “Did... did you think it ended badly?”

“N-no, no I didn’t. I’m grateful it ended the way it did, rather than you falling out of love with me or something... Not that you still love me now- I’m just- Ugh! Bottom line, I’m fine with how things happened. It just... stings...”

(Y/n) chewed at her lip, something Ukai knew she did when she was anxious. He just made things super weird, all cuz he wanted closure.

“Do you have any regrets?” she suddenly asked, finally looking up at him.

Ukai sighed softly, slowly nodding his head. “Yeah... just one... I didn’t go after you.... Do you...?”

(Y/n) chuckled softly, turning back to her bottle. “Yeah actually... I didn’t stay with you.”

The two went silent. Ukai hadn’t meant for the conversation to take this turn. He wasn’t even drunk and he was still spilling his guts over a breakup from 7 years ago.

(Y/n) downed the last of her beer, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table before fully facing Ukai. “Can we try something?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, setting his bottle on the coffee table before turning to her.

“You’re going to kiss me. And if we don’t feel anything, I’ll leave and act like it never happened...” (Y/n) explained. It was a simple set of instructions but it had Ukai’s heart ready to jump out of his chest.

“And if we feel something?” He asked.

(Y/n) shrugged. “I dunno. But I won’t leave...”

Ukai took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily to regain his confidence.

“Okay,” he opened his eyes, “I’m ready.”

“You’re kissing your ex-girlfriend, not disarming a bomb.” (Y/n) quipped.

“Well, now I have to take another deep breath because you broke my concentration.” Ukai complained.

“Will you just hurry-”

Without warning, Ukai cupped (Y/n)’s cheeks and pulled her into a gentle, passionate kiss.

He told himself to keep it simple, but 7 years of repressed feelings suddenly began pouring out into this one intimate moment. Before he knew it, (Y/n) was kissing him back, hands clinging to his shirt and pulling him closer.

(Y/n) brushed her tongue over his lip, earning a moan from Ukai as he pulled her body flush against his.

(Y/n) pulled away for a moment, lightly pushed Ukai to lay on his back, then moved between his legs and flush against him.

Ukai breathlessly pulled her into another kiss, sighing shakily against her lips as his hands roamed her body. He was beginning to regret wearing jeans instead of his usual sweat pants.

(Y/n) tossed his hairband aside and began running her fingers through his hair, causing another moan to bubble from his lips.

No other women made him moan like this. But this was (Y/n). (Y/n) who knew him inside and out. (Y/n) who he knew inside and out.

He brushed his hand through her hair, lightly gripping it and pulling her away, tugging her head to the side and dragging his tongue up her throat. She moaned shakily, gripping his shirt so tight that Ukai thought the buttons might pop off.

The sudden feeling of (Y/n) grinding her hips against Ukai’s had him tugging her hair harder and biting her neck.

(Y/n) whined and began shakily unbuttoning his shirt.

He parted from her neck and moved her to sit up, taking off the button-up and his undershirt.

(Y/n) had gotten busy trying to take off her dress, she almost didn’t notice Ukai’s shirtless body.

She went hot, looking over his amazing physique. He looked nothing like this when they were last together. Something special caught her eye, causing her to smirk once her dress was tossed aside.

“When’d you do this?” she asked, brushing her fingers over one of his pierced nipples. Ukai shivered at her touch. He retaliated by reaching around her and unclasping her bra, tossing it away.

“I told you I went overboard after you left...” he mumbled, kneading her breasts.

(Y/n) moaned shakily, peppering needy kisses against Ukai’s lips. “Take me right here...” she murmured between kisses.

Ukai suddenly flipped their position, getting (Y/n) on her back and straddling her. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, beginning to take a condom out until (Y/n) stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, I’m on the pill. I’m clean. I want you raw.” She panted, hastily unbuckling his belt.

This was a dream come true.

Ukai threw the wallet aside and tugged off (Y/n)’s panties, stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans before tugging his pants halfway down his thighs.

(Y/n)’s eyes went wide at the sight of him. She gripped the couch cushion as he rubbed his tip against her slit, sighing shakily.

“Maybe I should have stretched first...” (Y/n) breathed, hips twitching as Ukai eased the tip inside of her.

“You’ll get a good stretch from this, angel...” he grunted, her old nickname adding onto the pleasure they were both experiencing.

Ukai eased in deeper, his hips stuttering as (Y/n) dug her nails into his arms. His teeth dug into his bottom lip and his eyes screwed shut. They moaned in unison once he was fully inside of her.

“Kei, if you don’t move...” (Y/n) whined, rolling her hips to gain some friction.

Ukai moaned shakily, slowly rocking his hips against her’s. “Y-you’re as tight as the first time we fucked...”

(Y/n) gasped as Ukai suddenly hit her g-spot, prompting him to thrust faster into that spot he instantly recognized. “Has my angel been waiting for me this whole time?”

She moaned louder, dragging her nails down his arms, earning a symphony of moans from him as well.

Ukai hooked one arm under her leg, spreading her legs wider as he continued plowing into her. He struggled to keep himself propped up with the other hand, shaking hard as (Y/n) began to tighten around him.

He pressed his forehead to hers, growling as she stared into his eyes and clawed at his shoulders.

“Keiiii pleaaaase!” she shrieked, squirming against him.

“T-that’s it, angel. Let me have it...” he groaned, brushing his lips against hers.

(Y/n) screamed shakily, burying her face in Ukai’s neck and biting him.

Ukai came after a few more thrusts, emptying himself inside her while he moaned wildly.

They both panted hard, a wave of euphoria crashing into them in the wake of their orgasms.

(Y/n) tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.

Once they parted, he stood straight and took off his jeans, standing completely bare in front of (Y/n).

She was slightly confused until he lifted her off the couch and took her to his bedroom. He carefully laid her down before flopping onto the bed beside her.

(Y/n) let out a tired giggle, looking Ukai over as he still struggled to catch his breath.

“I think I have a cramp in my leg...” he groaned.

“Want me to rub it out?” (Y/n) teased, reaching towards him and brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

He slowly shook his head before taking her hand and kissing the tip of her middle finger. “Anymore friction from you and my soul will ascend into heaven.”

(Y/n) sighed softly, relaxing into the mattress and closing her eyes. “I shouldn’t stay... I have my job interview tomorrow.”

Ukai moved closer to her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “I have to open the shop up early tomorrow. I’ll wake you up so you have time to go to your hotel and make sure you’re ready... okay?”

(Y/n) slowly nodded, leaning up and kissing him once more.

“I guess this means we still feel something, huh?” Ukai asked, pulling the covers over their bodies.

“I guess so...” (Y/n) smiled, gently hugging his waist. “Maybe you can take me on a proper date tomorrow night... then it can be official.”

He chuckled softly, the need to sleep overcoming his need to say something clever. “Goodnight, (Y/n)...”

“Goodnight, Kei...”

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

The next day went by like a breeze for Ukai. He got one last kiss from (Y/n) when she left that morning, along with her new phone number. She didn’t even ask for her panties back.

Ukai wore a hoodie that easily covered the bite mark (Y/n) left him, meaning he wouldn’t have to deal with stupid questions from the boys at Karasuno.

Speaking of the boys, they were responding well to the new drills he and Takeda drew up. They were already showing improvement with their spikes and their serves. It was a perfect day.

Ukai was in the process of taking a swig of water when he heard the gym doors open, followed by a “HEADS UP!” from Noya.

The sound of a volleyball smacking against someone’s arm’s made the gym go silent. Hinata caught the stray ball, looking helplessly at Ukai.

The coach turned to see who had entered and blocked the ball.

He snorted, keeled over, and spat up the water he had been drinking onto the gym floor.

Takeda began slapping his back to help clear his airway as the school’s principal thanked (Y/n) profusely.

Ukai figured she had sidestepped in front of the principal and blocked the ball from smacking him right in the family jewels. She never joined Karasuno’s girl’s team, but she had helped Ukai practice enough to know how to receive a ball.

The principal cleared his throat, regained his composure, and led (Y/n) towards the coaches.

Ukai stood up straight, still struggling to breath as he looked her over. She was wearing a button-up shirt, a pencil skirt and heels. She was like an image out of a sexy librarian fantasy... only this was the real world. This was really happening.

“Coach Ukai, Coach Takeda, I would like to introduce your new athletic trainer!” the principal announced, beaming as Takeda and (Y/n) bowed to one another.

“It’s wonderful to meet-”

“What are you doing here?” Ukai coughed, interrupting Takeda.

(Y/n) smiled bashfully, giving him a small shrug of her shoulders. “I told you at dinner I didn’t want to say more about the job... I coulda jinxed it...”

“Ohhh!” the principal exclaimed, “I don’t know how I didn’t realize you two were classmates! What a wonderful reunion!”

“I did tell you we needed a trainer to come in and help before nationals...” Takeda murmured, nervously shifting where he stood.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Her first official day is tomorrow.” The principal left with that, Ukai realizing how silent the gym was as his footsteps got further and further away.

“H-Hey! What are you doing?! Get back to your drills!” he shouted at the team.

The boys got their asses back in gear, stealing glances at the coaches and their new trainer every now and then.

“I’m going to... go... over there...” Takeda stuttered. He quickly bowed to (Y/n) before running to the opposite side of the court.

“Are you really that upset?” (Y/n) frowned.

Ukai sighed softly rubbing at his temples. “No... I just really wish you told me...”

“Well... I didn’t exactly plan on last night-” (Y/n) paused when she noticed one of the boys, Hinata, slowly sidestepping closer to them to listen in on what was happening.

“Get back to spiking or you’ll be on towel duty for a month.” Ukai grumbled.

Hinata squeaked before running back onto the court.

“I didn’t plan on last night to go the way it did. I thought we’d get dinner, go our separate ways, then surprise! I’m here and we get to live out some slowburn fantasy where we fall for each other again.” (Y/n) explained, keeping her voice low.

Ukai sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He felt (Y/n) slowly place her hand on his arm, wandering until she took his hand in hers. “Please just give me a chance? I want to help you get them to nationals...”

He slowly opens his eyes, groaning at the way she batted her eyes at him.

“Fine.”

(Y/n) smiled wide and hugged him tightly, snickering when he completely flushed red. “This is gonna be so much fun... now introduce me to the team.”

Once their current drill was complete, Ukai called the team over, noting the way the boys eyed (Y/n) with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Alright, this is (Y/n). She’s an old friend and she’s going to be our new athletic trainer. She’s gonna do everything in her power to whip you into shape for nationals. So do as she says and we won’t have any issues.”

A couple of the boys raised their hands high.

“Wow, there are questions about that... Tanaka.” Ukai pointed at the redhead.

“Is she your girlfriend?” he asked, no hesitation or shame in his words.

Ukai tensed. (Y/n) snickered.

“N-Not relevant!”

“Is she our Coach Mom now?” Noya piped up.

“No!”

“So you're not our Coach Dad?” Noya asked.

“Of course not!”

“I have a question not having to do with Coach Mom at all!” Hinata shouted.

Ukai breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god. What’s your question?”

“What’s on your neck?”

Ukai went completely red again as (Y/n) tried to stifle her laughter.

“Is that from Coach Mom?” Noya shrieked, grabbing Asahi’s arms and shaking him wildly. “That’s from Coach Mom!”

“It totally is from Coach Mom...” Suga mumbled.

“Don’t encourage them.” Daichi said, nudging Suga.

“THE NEXT PERSON TO CALL (Y/n) COACH MOM HAS TO RUN 50 LAPS!” Ukai yelled, finally silencing the boys.

“L-lets just get back to our drills!” Takeda shouted, ushering the boys back onto the court.

“I just wanted to know what was on his neck...” Hinata pouted, “Did Coach Mom really do that-”

“50 laps Hinata!”

“Awwww! Do I have to, Coach Mom?!”

“100 LAPS!”

“No!” (Y/n) barked, lightly pushing Ukai before turning to Hinata. “That’s absurd, you don’t have to.”

Ukai adjusted his hoodie, glancing at (Y/n) as she crossed her arms. “You’d think you’d be a little less tense after last night-”

“Please just go home.” Ukai sighed, taking the keys to his flat from his pocket and placing them in her hand.

She blinked down at the keys in shock.

“I don’t want you in some hotel room when I have a perfectly good bed at my place... I’ll help you get your things from the hotel once practice is over...” He explained, scratching at the back of his head while keeping his eyes on the team.

“Guess you are my boyfriend then...” (Y/n) smiled. She quickly pressed a kiss to Ukai’s cheek before turning on her heels to leave. “See you at home, Coach Dad...”

Ukai turned to watch her leave, a small smile on his face. It wasn’t such a bad nickname when she said it...

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #coach ukai #ukai keishin #ukai x reader #haikyuu ukai #oneshot #smut

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Creation”

Happy Saturday, everyone! Oh man, oh man, oh man. I think I'll need to steer clear of the general RWBY tags this week, simply because I know the sort of responses I'll see to this episode. From smug celebration at Ironwood's downfall, to bad takes about what makes us human, this episode is a petri dish of sensitive material handled insensitively.

Let’s unpack it, shall we?

We open on an action that feels like a summery of the last three volumes: a grimm attacks an airship from the front, no doubt killing its pilot, while the other grimm conveniently ignore our heroes, no masking in sight. The group looks a little sad at the destruction around them, but ultimately ignore it because they have bigger, heroic things to do. I could write a whole, additional essay on how the huntsmen code — to protect the people — has been warped and abandoned by our protagonists in their effort to do what they think is right. It's a tale that might have been compelling if only RT knew they were writing it.

We get a shot of Atlas drones unloading the bomb before one is taken out, presumably by Qrow and Robyn. Segueing to Ironwood and the Ace Ops, they're waiting for Penny to arrive, the former carrying a massive gun presumably capable of capturing her. Despite the horror we saw on their faces last episode at the realization that Ironwood would kill Marrow for speaking up, it seems that now the Ace Ops are entirely in agreement with these measures. A week ago the implication was that they fell back in line out of fear, but now Harriet talks passionately about "putting down" the group if they were stupid enough to accompany Penny. "The General gave his terms." Vine sighs at this, but doesn't actively disagree. He's just "retracing the steps that led us here."

So, congratulations on introducing four new characters, not bothering to develop any of them, killing one off while ignoring Qrow's hand in that, and having the other three become all, "Yeah! Mass murder is a perfect solution!" off screen. Marrow is the only one with something resembling development and, as covered in these recaps, that's been pretty badly executed too.

Ironwood sends them to deal with Robyn and Qrow after Winter reappears to "assist" him. That gets quotation marks because most viewers at this point have realized that she's who our two birbs spotted in the elevator. Winter isn't on Ironwood's side anymore, she's just skillfully clearing the field for the final attack. Indeed, we get a moment where she hesitantly brings up the bomb and Ironwood responds that he hopes she's not going to try and talk him out of it. No. Winter doesn't think that's possible. This was her final attempt at peace.

One of the reasons why I think I'll stick to my own blog for a while is because the fandom has a tendency to paint broad personality traits as evil when applied to some characters, yet simultaneously heroic when applied to others, when really it's about how that those traits are used. What I mean is, I've seen a lot of Ironwood critical posts that emphasize how stubborn he is. He thinks he's right and he won't back down. He wont listen to others. He's going through with this plan and if anyone tries to stop him? That's their mistake. Totally evil, right? Except, this is the exact same behavior Ruby displays, particularly in Volumes 6 and 7. She was stubborn about stealing from Argus and continuing the fight to the point where it endangered her and her teammates, to say nothing of the rest of the city. She refused to listen to Qrow, or Ironwood, or the Ace Ops, loudly announcing that she was right about, well, everything. If they didn't agree with her, the options were to leave the group entirely, or fight her. The actual difference here is that the writers have taken Ironwood to an extreme, one that's incredibly easy to understand as bad because it is bad: bombing Mantle has no defense. Ruby pulls the exact same nonsense, it's just not to that same extreme and her actions are followed by scenes that are meant to make us forgive her: a sad look because she didn't mean to get a city attacked by a leviathan grimm, a cry on the staircase because she didn't mean to risk the lives of an entire kingdom... even though she did. Ironwood is the bad guy because he's been written to take specific, OOC actions like shooting unarmed kids. He's not the bad guy because when other characters go, "Don't do this" his response is, "I have to." Because that's been Ruby's motto ever since she "had" to use the Lamp to rip Ozpin’s life story away. RWBY introduced those extreme actions of shooting the youngest in the group (for no reason) and threatening to bomb a city (for no reason) or shooting a councilman (for no reason) because when you remove those you've got a man who looks exactly like our hero. Ironwood's arc has been peppered with these confusing, unpersuasive actions because if you just keep the story as him stubbornly keeping to a plan he thinks will save the world, you're left with the reminder that all Ruby has done lately is stubbornly keep to plans she thinks will save the world. This moment with Winter just highlights how ill thought out Ironwood's descent has been because he does everything Ruby does... with a few, tacked on, “and randomly shoots people!” moments to ensure we understand that he’s definitely evil. No comparison to our heroes here, folks!

Ironwood is a bad guy now. That’s certain, but he was made that way so the story never had to grapple with the question of what that means for Ruby if we really start condemning things like lying, secrets, stubbornness, or endangering others for the greater good. Well then damn, if we strip away the hypocrisy then she might not be a good person after all. Or the people she’s simplistically labeled as bad might not be the devils Ruby claims they are.

But that’s a level of nuance RWBY would rather pretend doesn’t exist.

All of which is highlighted by Ironwood’s reaction to "Penny." He sighs and sags over the gun, immediately putting it aside. With his hand on her shoulder, Ironwood tells her she's "done the right thing." Precisely the same way Ruby would lower Crescent Rose and give someone a smile when they decided to fall in line with her.

Which, of course, is the moment when Emerald reveals herself, dispelling the Penny illusion and revealing Team JNPR The Second behind her. She gives a quip about it feeling "weird" to do the right thing before disappearing.

From there the action picks up fast. I really enjoyed this battle simply from a choreography and energy standpoint. It gets the blood pumping, Ironwood's hand-to-hand is spectacular — especially that moment against Ren — and the group actually displays teamwork for the first time in what feels like forever, all of them needed to land a hit on Ironwood. As always, out of the context of the rest of the show it feels and looks great. My primary issue is that we get this fantastic fight against Ironwood. Not Salem, not Cinder, not Watts (like last volume when Ironwood was still a hero), not even Emerald as a means of transitioning from murderous villain to the group's best bud. No, what's arguably the best action sequence in the volume thus far goes to beating up the guy they betrayed from the start. There's no catharsis for me here, only frustration as we watch Ironwood stand in shock as Winter powers up Nora — who's fine now, I guess — and she slams her hammer into his face.

It never should have come to this and when a good character is done so dirty, their downfall doesn't evoke the emotions the writers are looking for. Watching Ironwood fall doesn't generate feelings of victory, or even tragedy at a course of events others were powerless to stop. It's just frustration at watching years worth of bad writing, sprinkled with fantastic ideas that never go anywhere.

Oscar gets a few hits in, Ironwood snatches his cane, and just as he's about to throw a punch, Winter arrives with the most dramatic sword slash I've ever seen.

Ironwood's aura breaks and he falls, unconscious. We cut to an image of a droid's head separated from its body, one of Robyn's arrows through its skull. That doesn't have meaning or anything.

I suppose I should be grateful they didn't rip Ironwood's arm away during the fight, or outright kill him, though I'm still expecting him to die before the end of the volume.

Hmm. Wouldn't that be something? If after Salem's arrival, freezing cold, a Hound attack, grimm soup, a giant whale, a massive army, and a hack ending in self-destruction, the one character who actually dies is Ironwood.

It's looking more and more likely.

Honestly, beyond all the obvious, what's so frustrating about this fight is that characters are only now using their impressive abilities to their fullest. Emerald creates an entire fantasy of what's happening and then straight up disappears, but she only does a half-assed version of that when fighting against Penny. (And really, she put more effort into helping the heroes she just joined over Cinder, the woman she's been obsessed with since the start?) Marrow refuses to use "Stay" against a group they wanted to peacefully arrest because that's just too horrible an act, I guess, but he'll do it on his own teammates the second Qrow and Robyn don’t want to fight.

This is what I mean when I say the rules of the world bend to assist the protagonists in absurd ways. It's not nearly as egregious as Amity suddenly being up and running, but the fact that characters become substantially more powerful while fighting for the protagonists than they do against them is still a significant problem.

So Ironwood is down and out. As much as I hated watching that and didn't necessarily want more, am I the only one who felt like it was... a bit lackluster? I mean, the action was great, yes, but relatively short. There was no dialogue, such as another delve into the moral questions that led to this fight in the first place. There certainly wasn’t any hesitance against fighting a former ally. (Again, we’re meant to believe that the Ace Ops won because they just couldn’t bear to fight the group seriously, but every former ally here is capable of wailing on Ironwood without a single pause or pained look?) Ironwood just skillfully blocks for a while, is blindsided by Winter's betrayal, and then falls unconscious. Given that we learn he and Jacques will be evacuated after the rest of the kingdom, it's possible he'll escape somehow and we'll get a fight 2.0, but if not that feels like a rather tame end to the guy forced into the antagonist seat. Plus, what was the point of having Qrow frothing at the mouth to kill him this whole volume? I never wanted that to happen, I'm glad it hasn't, but I'm nevertheless left to ask why we bothered with that eleven episode side plot if we were going to erase it with one sentence from Robyn about Qrow being better than this. If that's all it took, let them work through Qrow's irrational anger while sitting around in a cell.

Winter tells the group to move onto "phase two" which is when we're treated to a flashback. We return to the ending of the last episode, with Ruby realizing that opening the vault is an option. Jaune, all smiles, goes, "We never considered using what's inside!"

This is what I mean about no consequences! This is what I mean about it all being a meaningless circle that ends with undeserved praise for the group! We started this horror show with Ironwood going, "We don't have a plan to protect the people, so I'm going to take what people we do have to safety" and the group going, "We don't have a plan either, but we're going to stop you implementing your plan because it's not perfect, risking a kingdom's worth of lives in the process." Now, the group has used two plans, one of which two characters knew about at the start and another they could have devised with the information they had. Oscar and Ozpin's, "We have an all powerful magical blast in our cane" and the group's "What if we used the Staff for something other than raising Atlas?" are both things that could have come up in the office debate. These were both always on the table! Instead, Ruby grew furious over the mere thought of cutting their losses, betrayed Ironwood again, attacked his people, denounced him to the world, and then two days later goes, "Oh wait! We could do something now that we could have easily done before if we hadn't made a needless enemy!"

Everyone realizes how much worse they made things, right? Turning against Ironwood, bringing everyone left in Mantle directly under Atlas, sitting around while an army was devoured, drawing it out until Penny was hacked... all of it would have been avoided if the group had thought and discussed things for a few minutes, not jumping straight to violently resisting what Ironwood came up with first. "We never considered..." Ruby says. Yeah, you didn't, except that's not something to smile about. The group made the situation a thousand times worse with their reaction when they could have just magically evacuated the kingdom from the start. “Maybe we could use it to save Penny and get everyone in Atlas and Mantle back to safety." Nothing has changed! They had this ability the whole time! Nothing about the last twelve episodes led them here, they just randomly thought of it after RT had padded the volume with needless drama. Considering that they're heading to Vacuo now, we could have just made this the finale of Volume 7 instead: big fight with Ironwood, revelation, get everyone evacuated while Salem attacks, leave her behind, then Volume 8 begins in Vacuo with the group knowing Salem is out there looking for them. This entire volume has been pointless. What did they accomplish?

Oscar got kidnapped and beat up, Nora was scarred, Ruby and Yang realized horrible things about Summer, and the whole world is panicking about a witch. Good things are... Ren and Ruby unlocked some semblance stuff? Weiss loves her brother again after he proved himself useful to her? Great work, team.

So this one moment makes everything they've done up to this point useless and, of course, once thought up the plan goes off without a hitch. Note that the summary of this episode says, "It's risky, dangerous, and nearly impossible — but it's the only plan they've got." Nearly impossible? That's a whole lot of talk for a plan that was implemented perfectly.

There is, admittedly, one snag, but one that is likewise made meaningless just seconds later. We'll get to that.

We see Winter call Weiss who also smiles at hearing from her sister. Obviously interactions like the group's with Emerald are the bigger concern, but it's still an issue that no one reacts as they should to people reappearing in their lives. Rather, RWBY continually confuses audience knowledge with character knowledge. We know Winter is on their side now, but Weiss hasn't a clue. Last she saw, she and Winter were agreeing to head down different paths. She has no reason to think her sister isn't loyal to Ironwood, so why isn't the group treating this call with suspicion? What if it's Ironwood trying to mess with them through a presumably safe party? I swear to god, with any consistency in the story this group would be dead ten times over because their decisions are so stupid. Oscar decides to believe in the guy currently beating him to a pulp, the group decides to trust a villain over a flawed ally, and now they see Ironwood’s second calling and are like, “Great, big sister Winter is checking in!” There’s a difference between a hopeful story filled with second chances and characters whose reliance on the narrative bending to assist them makes them come across as insanely naive.

None of which even touches on characters forgetting that other characters are presumably dead. Ironwood shot Oscar off the edge of Atlas, but doesn't react to learning he was kidnapped, or when he shows up to the fight. Thanks to Marrow's comment, Winter thinks YJOR have perished in the whale, but also has no reaction to them appearing to help with this plan. Absolutely nothing is followed up on.

We then get a flashback within the flashback (fun) of Winter — shock — not arresting Marrow. It's precisely as I assumed, with Marrow angrily asking why she hit him and Winter responding with, “Because you were about to get killed if I didn’t do something!” As I said last recap, I feel like I should let the marginalized groups lead this discussion, but I do want to add that no matter how well intentioned — or strategic, as I mentioned last time — the imagery itself is still harmful. No matter the context, we were still left with white woman Winter putting her knee on black man Marrow's back to arrest him, and it’s an image that everyone in the U.S. should be familiar with the horror of. Far more of a problem than the (presumed) ignorance of this scene is, I think, the choice to make Winter entirely unrepentant. I think some of this discomfort could have been alleviated if RT had written Winter as apologetic, contrite that it came to that and asking Marrow to understand that she only did it as a means of assisting him. Asking his forgiveness. Instead, we get this

So what, the only emotion we have room for is gratitude that Winter beat him up? Yikes.

As a lighter side note, I find the animation here unintentionally hilarious. Winter's assistive device makes her shoulders look too high, making this gesture more, "Woman exaggeratedly pouts about not getting ice cream for dinner" and less, "Woman sternly closes off during a disagreement about saving lives and betraying their general." Gotta find our humor where we can, right?

What's intentional, but far less funny, is the needless animation to show us that, yes, Marrow is peering at Winter calling Weiss. Oh, the shenanigans.

The elevator opens where Qrow and Robyn spot them. "Speaking of help," Winter says, as if she has any reason to believe Qrow didn't kill Clover. He and Robyn lower their weapons a bit, as if they have any reason to believe Winter and Marrow aren't still loyal to Ironwood. Would it really be so hard to have Winter immediately throw up her hands in the face of their almost-attack, blurting that she's not their enemy and needs their help, please listen? Again, RWBY can't remember which characters know what, let alone what their motivations and reactions should be.

We then enter the third part of the flashback where everyone piles into the Schnee dining room and discusses doing the things they could have done from the start. I'm metaphorically banging my head against that table. In RWBY's favor though, we also get a long shot of Jaune continuing to boost Penny’s aura.

Though it's only one of many issues, just the other day I asked, "Hey, why has Jaune always needed to hold onto the person he's assisting, but now suddenly he can touch Penny once and the boost remains?" It still doesn't explain why he was letting go before/why him needing to boost her continuously didn't put a hard time limit on their plan — not that Mantle's hour limit meant a thing — but at least they're showing more of that here.

Oscar notes that Atlas has enough gravity dust that it won't fall immediately when they use the Relic, but they will have to move fast to ensure no one is underneath. Yeah, like all the civilians you put there. He also cautions that the Staff isn't a "magic wand" that they can just wave to make all their problems go away... even though that's precisely what they're going to do. Ozpin gets some lines that aren't apologies or followed by attacks — hallelujah! — about how the Staff's spirit is a "character" and requires that you be able to precisely explain anything you want him to make. Blueprints, examples, a firm knowledge of how this will be accomplished — all of it is required to actually get what you're after. That's a cool limitation. It's just too bad we didn't know about it episodes ago, forcing our heroes to find ways to meet those requirements. Instead, they already have everything ready to go the moment they learn about it: Penny has her own schematics and Whitley apparently has knowledge of the entire kingdom after sending some ships out. Normally I'd go, "Really?" but I'm still just struck by how much good he's done compared to everyone else in this room. Your show is seriously broken when the side character the writers didn't even want the audience to like until a few episodes ago is more active, mature, and sensible than the heroes.

From there we see the group implementing the plan. They fly up through the hole Oscar left, straight to the vault. Penny opens it without any trouble and Ruby uses her speed to grab the Relic and stop time, halting her self-termination. I do like that combination of skill and their knowledge of how this magic works. That felt like a smart move. What's interesting though is that the Relic appears to stop time in the entire kingdom. We see people in Mantle and Atlas slowing to a halt too. I assume no one remembers that happening after time restarts, otherwise people would be freaked out by suddenly being frozen in place.

Wouldn't that have been cool though? The group often takes a while to use the Relics, either deciding what they need, or watching Jinn's information, so what if you had a population that blinks and suddenly, from their perspective, half an hour has passed? How long might Ozpin have sat on his knees after Jinn told him he wasn't able to defeat Salem? How long was that space frozen? We could have had a world built around rumors and fairy tales. Not the random stories Ozpin brings up to make a point and that we never hear about again, but tiny details that foreshadow these revelations. A Beacon where the kids tell each other spooky stories of people suddenly losing time, once a whole day. The wives, sisters, daughters, and nieces who disappear, or wake up one day with horrifying, unnatural powers. We see magic influence the world around it, but we've seen very little of the world reacting to that influence. The one time I can think of is Blake reading a book about "a man with two souls," the fiction clearly inspired by knowledge of Ozpin. And indeed, it felt great to recognize that as a significant detail and then be proven right years later as the lore was revealed. We could have gotten so much more of that if RWBY was better planned out.

I'm getting off track though. As time stops we see a series of images: Ironwood being led to a cell with Jacques, Penny succumbing to her hack, Team JNPR The Second preparing to contact the kingdom about what's going on. Then everyone is distracted by the giant, blue, buff Ambrosius who comes out of the Staff.

...there's a lot of innuendo in that last statement lol. At least RWBY is committed to the crazy design they chose? I was never particularly comfortable with the image of characters gaping up at a giant, naked woman in chains, so it's nice to balance that a bit with an equally giant, naked dude in chains.

From here things get confusing. In all honesty, I'm not sure if this is another moment where RWBY is trying to pass off a retcon as the group being brilliant, or if I, as an individual, simply didn't follow the logic. I won't bother to rehash the slow, meandering way that Ruby reveals their plan — that certainly didn't help with the clarity. Not in an episode where we didn’t even know these rules ahead of time — but it boils down to this:

The moment they have Ambrosius create something new Atlas will start to fall. Two of his creations can't exist at the same time.

He needs clear instructions about what he's making in order to create it.

The group has brought him Penny's schematics so that he understands how she's built.

They want, specifically, "a new version of her... using her exact robot parts."

They can't just create an exact duplicate of Penny because that would carry the virus with it.

They can't create an exact duplicate without the virus because that Penny would cease to exist as soon as they used Ambrosius to make an evacuation plan instead.

So they essentially want Ambrosius to create a new Penny by removing all the robot parts from the Penny that currently exists, carrying the virus with them, and leaving only the human parts of Penny behind: her aura/soul. Then, the purely robot version is destroyed when Ambrosius creates something new.

Except... this new Penny, this human Penny, still needed a human body. That's what Ambrosius created and that's the snag I don't understand. They want a version of Penny that's just her aura, just her soul, but that soul still needs something to be housed in. Ambrosius himself notes that. At first I thought the group would just have some wisp-like version of Penny they'd have to find a new body for — perhaps leading to a new one for Ozpin too — but she's just... given a human body when he takes the technology away, something she absolutely didn't have before. That is Ambrosius' creation. That is what should have disappeared along with the removed parts of Penny, leaving only her soul — what Ambrosius didn't touch — behind. Instead, the plot oh so conveniently has Penny get a new body for free and it's untouched as they move onto the next task.

Ruby drops a casual line about Ambrosius not being able to kill, or destroy, or something, which I think is meant to be the justification here. The rule (which, again, we JUST learned) about not killing anyone supersedes the rule of two creations not allowed to exist, allowing Penny to stick around. But even if that’s true, it’s a load of bull. What, does the magic think no one in an entire city might die if the floating mechanism is removed and it plummets to the ground? Ambrosius didn’t say, “Sorry, can’t stop floating Atlas because thousands of people are still here and they’ll die if I create something new,” but we’re supposed to believe the group skated by on, “Sorry, can’t destroy the last creation like everything else because there’s a single person still using that body and she’ll die if I create something new”?

Seriously, did I miss something? Or is this another, "Amity is ready because the group needs it" situation? The rule of creations ceasing to exist is bent because the group needs to have their friend around. Ambrosius is certainly enthusiastically complimentary, saying how "smart" the group is and that they've "done their homework," but I'm not so sure. It feels like a moment where the show is (once again) insistent that the group is far more talented and brilliant than their actions actually imply. It's only the rules of the world twisting and turning that allows for their success. To say nothing of how the episode dropped all these rules on the viewer in a ten minute info dump, ensuring we didn’t have any time to think about them before the deed was done.

It doesn't add up for me and honestly, even putting that aside? I hate this. I absolutely despise it. Look, if it turns out this really does make sense then props to the group for coming up with that plan. Our snag aside, the rest is a legitimately well thought out wish. I don't have a problem with the execution so much as the message. I've been saying since Volume 7 that RWBY has done Penny a disservice in terms of her "real girl" narrative. Whereas before we had a firm message that you don't need "squishy guts" to be human, to be real, Volume 8 continued to carry us further and further into the idea that it is necessary. That Penny's body is entirely inhuman, something to hate, but at least her soul is human and good. That's what the virus arc taught us: your terrible, technological body might be betraying you, but hold onto the parts of you that are really human. I hated that too, but I never thought RWBY would go this far. They made Penny fully human and went, “THIS is the version that always should have existed.”

And this isn't just me reading into the implications. It's right there in the text. Blake says that they're looking for “Penny, the girl who’s always been there underneath." Meaning, underneath the metal. The girl exists trapped in the robot body. Yang holds up her arm and says that the metal is only "extra," it's not really who you are.

That gets into two perspectives on disability that RWBY just doesn't have the nuance for: what's an integral and celebratory part of one person's existence can be seen as something separate and discomforting to another. Though there are many people with disabilities who would happily cure themselves with a magic Staff if given the chance, there are just as many who say no, this is a part of my identity. I don't want to change, I just want the world to accommodate my existence. However, RWBY takes a hard stance here, saying that any metal in your body is intrinsically bad. We didn’t use to have this take, but now the show has embraced it. Blake says the real Penny is trapped in there. Yang's words implies that she'd get rid of this "extra" bit of her if possible. Mercury with his metal legs is the enemy. Ironwood with half his metal body is the enemy. Whereas once difference was truly accepted, now it's shunned and fixed whenever possible. Those who can't be fixed, like Yang, must simply deal with the lot they've been dealt, reassuring themselves that the metal isn't really them. But Penny? Penny they can fix.

So they do and the very first thing Penny does is hug Ruby, exclaiming, “Do hugs always make you feel this warm inside? Wow. More!” and proceeds to hug all the others.

What's the underlying message there? Penny didn't understand hugs before this moment. She never experienced the "warmth" of them while an android, despite the fact that here warmth is entirely metaphorical and has nothing to do with a literally cold body. RWBY really went and said that the "real girl” android was never actually real at all — not as real as she could be — because it's only when she's given "squishy guts" that she understands the true happiness of a hug.

Wow.

I mean seriously, wow.

Never-mind that, you know, we've seen that happiness and warmth since she was first introduced.

RWBY is really rewriting all the core themes introduced in Volumes 1-3 and it sucks. The show is absolutely the worse for it.

To say nothing of all the other disservices to Penny's character here. There's all this buildup about whether she'll still be the same Penny once the wish is complete, but of course she is. We wouldn't want to have Penny struggle when she becomes something other than what she's always been, would we? After all, it took Yang an entire volume to work through the shock of a metal arm, but taking away a metal body for a human one is in no way traumatic. Having a normal, human body is intrinsically a good thing! Of course Penny accepts it with nothing but smiles. Becoming human is celebratory, but becoming more machine is a horror.

She gets to watch her body self-destruct, glitching out and collapsing in front of her. But again, nothing to unpack there that can't be covered with a hand over her mouth.

There's no discussion of whether Penny still has the Maiden powers, or whether a wish like that would mess with the transfer in any way. How did the group know this action wouldn't register as a clear-cut death, forcing the power out of her and into someone new? Obviously they couldn’t know, but no one even thought to bring it up?

And the entire time they're formulating their evacuation plan, there's no talk of whether these portals will appear before everyone currently alive in the kingdom. I mean, if they do then Ironwood and Jacques can just waltz through and escape into Vacuo. If they don’t, then Maria and Pietro don't necessarily have a way out. We still don't know if they're stuck floating in Amity, or if Amity crashed, or if they made their way back to Mantle or Atlas. More importantly, the characters don't know. I have no problem with RWBY keeping that a surprise until the finale, but I absolutely take issue with Pietro's daughter walking through a portal, seemingly not to care whether her father is going to make it out too.

It's been the same with Qrow and his nieces' relationships. The show is good at insisting that these families love each other because they hug and smile while on screen together, but when shit is actually going down, none of them care about pesky things like disappearances, arrests, or “The last time I saw you, you were with an old woman on a damaged station after a villain attack, potentially stranded in deadly cold if life support failed.”

So yeah, this entire arc with Penny has been a disaster. From throwing away her framing subplot, to giving her a virus that did absolutely nothing, to giving her the Maiden powers which she's also done nothing with, to erasing her android status for a “She's really human now” message, Penny has been done dirty by the show these last two volumes. Not nearly to the extent Ironwood has, but still. At this point I wish they'd just kept her dead dead. Why do I want her back when that resurrection produces no reaction, her conflicts lead nowhere, and one of the core things that made Penny Penny has now been magically erased?

I've been saying for weeks that killing Penny off and keeping Penny around each had serious downsides attached, yet I never expected RWBY to do BOTH.

Also, I'm warding off any, "But Pinocchio was made into a real boy too" defenses. RWBY is not Pinocchio. Penny is not Pinocchio. I thought the allusion was going to be the Pinocchio inspired girl heading into the whale, not the show forcing the exact plotline — down to a blue, magical creature — onto a character whose entire journey has been about accepting herself as an android. Congratulations, RT. You just obliterated years of work.

Again, if you'd like an example of how to do this far better:

As Penny's character falls apart, Atlas shakes, alerting Jaune and the other that a new wish has been granted. Jaune pecks at the screen and realizes "That did, uh, something…?” but doesn’t realize that there's a giant, red "LIVE" up in the corner.

Jaune tries to warn the entire kingdom about their plan, but what he actually says is

“Atlas is falling, but — !”

And then the communications cut out.

Watts, perhaps?

Our heroes are really good at saying things that make large populaces panic, huh? This is the one (1) snag in their "impossible" plan, but as said above, it doesn't amount to anything. We get a shot of Nora, horrified at the thought of kingdom-wide communications being down, but literally seconds later Team RWBY has made portals appear that everyone can walk through. So... why do we care about communications? More importantly, why does the show try to make us care? So much time is spent getting the viewer invested in problems that never come to mean anything.

Including the problem of Salem herself.

Because the group successfully creates that evacuation plan. This is it. Everyone is leaving while Salem still reforms.

Yang asks if they can use the vaults themselves as a single point for everyone to go to and Ambrosius agrees. So everyone is going to pile into the Vacuo vault that can only be opened by an unknown Maiden? They're going to put an entire kingdom's worth of people, including their enemies, into the vault where the Relic of Destruction is? Yeah, that's great. Prior to this — like if this had been the plan at the end of Volume 7 — I would have 100% agreed that these risks are better than death by Salem/grimm/cold. Now though, Oscar as axed Salem for an unknown length of time, the cold is having no impact on the civilians outside, and the grimm only attack background military personnel that supposedly no one cares about. They couldn't have spent another few minutes (especially with time stopped!) to figure out a means of getting to Vacuo that doesn't involve revealing and providing access to the location of a super secret vault? To say nothing of what they're going to do if Salem wakes up and snags one of those portals for herself. Two kingdoms for the price of one!

But that's what they're going with. Weiss gives Ambrosius a schematic of the kingdom, I guess, and he makes branching pathways appear with numerous portals for everyone to step through. They'll enter through one and, when they exit another, will be in Vacuo. Easy peasy, right? Especially since Ambrosius doesn't seem to have any limitations about how often his power is used. Is it three creations every 100 years like Jinn? We're not told, at least not to my recollection. However, I was expecting there to be a waiting period, that they'd fix Penny, go to evacuate the kingdom, and learn that sorry, I can't make another creation just yet. It feels like the sort of shit move these beings would pull — "Don't cry to me when it's not what you wanted" — it would have been another commentary on the group's insistence on putting friends over the people's safety (like demanding the Ace Ops not bomb the whale because of Oscar), and crucially, would have kept the action in Atlas. Isn't that what this volume is? The battle for and potential destruction of the Kingdom of Atlas? We have two episodes left and, unless something unexpected happens, we're moving that action to Vacuo. Why?

Meanwhile, Penny's corpse is just chilling in the background 😬

While all this is going on, Winter reassures Jacques that he and Ironwood will be evacuated too, though she makes it clear saving him was Weiss' idea. It checks out, considering Weiss is the one who turned her father's arrest into a joke last volume. Winter still takes his abuse seriously.

The group prepares to leave with a celebratory, "We did it!" from Weiss. I'm still banging my head against that dining room table. Before they can pass through the portal though, Ambrosius leaves them with one, dire warning: "Do not fall."

In any other story a line like that is a neon sign announcing to the audience that someone will absolutely fall, and maybe they will, but RWBY has dodged consequences so often I wouldn't be surprised if this was merely another way to string us along. Remember all the hype surrounding Salem? The cold combined with her army and magic? How she was going to decimate Atlas and leave our group broken in a Fall 2.0?

I mean, we still have two episodes left. Forty minutes of content. Salem might still decimate them, especially since something has to happen in the finale. But god, it's a problem that we've come this far without a payoff. Salem randomly decided not to attack anyone, was stopped by a weapon added in solely for this purpose, and now the whole kingdom is being evacuated with a plan the group could have used at the start. This volume really is meaningless.

“We go to vacuo and hope we’ve thought of everything” they say as the camera zooms in on Cinder's smiling face. For the second week in a row.

Bingo time!

Winter betrayed Ironwood, the group used the Staff of Creation, and I'm axing Maria on behalf of Pietro. You can't have the guy's daughter become human — after he was killing himself to give her his aura?? — and magically walk to Vacuo, not knowing if he's even survived since she last saw him, and expect me to think he hasn't been forgotten. Same with Maria. Has the group mentioned her since Amity cut out, notably for reasons they couldn’t explain? Of course not. Did they care to find out what happened? Of course not. I have no doubt they'll both re-appear in the next two episodes, Pietro crying over how perfect his girl is now and Maria congratulating the group on their actions, but we're still marking it.

This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever created, I hope you all are enjoying it :D

Another week, another couple feet added to the hole we’re digging. I know I keep saying I have no idea what's going to happen next... but I have no idea what's going to happen next. A Vacuo ending was not in the cards, not outside of them miraculously showing up in ships. Maybe they have been on their way to Atlas (somehow...) and will arrive precisely when everyone has left! Anything is possible at this point.

See you next Saturday, everyone. Hold on until then lol. 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby creation

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wild-aloof-rebel · 4 years ago

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amazingly, we ended 2020 with triple the number of words of fic in this fandom that we had at the end of 2019. thank you to everyone who contributed to that and to all the readers who motivate fic writers to keep publishing!!

1 - 3k words

Getting Out There by Januarium (rated G) Twenty-nine minutes after the agreed start time for the date, Patrick is aimlessly scrolling twitter—because isn’t it better to be annoyed at strangers instead of the woman who stood you up?—when a voice says, “Excuse me, are you Patrick Brewer?” [...]

grand gesture... by startswithhope (rated T) It had been David’s idea to host this little pre-holiday get together for their vendors and after Heather had offered up her farm for the venue, Patrick had been shooed out of the planning altogether. But of course, everything is perfect.

in the path of a possibility... by startswithhope (rated T) Sometimes you just have to ask the boy you like to dance and maybe he'll say yes.

Last Christmas by HolmesApothecary (rated T) Three Christmas Walks

On our way back home by upbeat (rated G) During their week-long separation, David gets drunk at a bar one night and calls Patrick for a ride home.

3 - 5k words

finding you at christmas by dinnfameron (rated G) Patrick helps out at his parents' Christmas tree lot in the city every year. One night, a lost kid and a handsome stranger come along needing his help.

I Put A Spell On You by houdini74 (rated G) David is a witch who spends his days baking cupcakes and uses his magic to to help people find happiness until his life is turned upside down by the arrival of a very cute and very unhappy Patrick Brewer.

Mind if I Move in Closer? by JustWaiting23 (rated T) David and Patrick get hit by a spell from a well-meaning stranger, now David can only be warm when touching Patrick. Will this be the final push they need to admit their feelings to each other?

you’re here (where you should be) by singsongsung *Alexis/Ted* (rated M) Alexis takes a holiday trip to the Galapagos Islands.

5 - 10k words

along for the ride by the_hodag (rated T) Unraveling someone else's grief can be complicated when they refuse to engage in anything more than idle road trip banter.

Drink a toast to innocence, Drink a toast to now by DesignatedGrape (rated T) David and Patrick meet one Christmas Eve in Toronto, and run into each other again three years later.

Hurt for the Holidays by missgeevious (rated T) David and Patrick meet by accident on Christmas Eve.

Pining For You by High-Seas-Swan (rated T) A new Christmas Tree stand arrives across from Rose Apothecary, and with it, pine needles. Everywhere. It's driving David crazy. As is the cute-but-rude lumberjack running the lot.

traveled down a road and back again by sonlali *Rachel-centric* (rated G) Five Christmases throughout Rachel's past that she spent with Patrick, plus one she spends together with Alexis at Patrick and David's cottage.

Where Every Stay Feels Like Home by MoreHuman (rated G) The Brewer family holiday wishlist: 1. Surprises 2. Escape rooms 3. Surprise escape rooms The Rose family holiday wishlist: 1. Getting the hell out of here

10k+ words

All I Want, aka O Christmas Trope by Januarium (rated E) A festive fake dating!AU.

The Big Chill by swat117 (rated T) David Rose learns to thaw while being chilled. ❄️ A modern-day Ice Age AU. ❄️

A Cardamom Christmas by Lisamc21 (rated T) David is stressed about work and decides to check out the nearby Christmas market. He expects to find lunch and maybe a Christmas gift or two. He doesn't expect to meet a charming baker who dishes teasing quips as much as sweet treats. David returns to the market each day to get another taste of Patrick the baker.

Every Breath That Comes Before [series] by nameless_bliss (rated T & E) [Three fics where David thinks about Patrick eventually leaving him]

Good Winter by Distractivate (rated M) Patrick spends a week in January at his parents' fishing cabin, sorting through memories and trying to figure out if enough of his past remains to rebuild relationships with his family and Rachel, while not losing who he's become with David. David, of course, helps. A story about making peace with all the versions of yourself, inspired by Bon Iver's album For Emma, Forever Ago.

happy golden days of yore by blueink3 (rated E) “What are you doing here?” Patrick blinks beneath the toque shoved onto his head, steadily dripping melting snow from his coat onto the mat they once purchased together. “Um… it’s my weekend.” [...]

A Holiday Escape by Lisamc21 (rated E) David needs to escape the stress of NYC and can't stomach another Rose family Christmas party, so he books an AirBNB for two weeks in Schitt's Creek. The town his family visited when he was a kid. The one true family vacation they'd had. He plans to spend two weeks drinking wine and soaking in a jacuzzi tub, but the cute guy renting the AirBNB derailed his relaxing plans.

If you’re looking for an ass to kiss by grapehyasynth (rated T) Everything's the same, except Patrick is already in town - and he's the mayor.

i’m your moonlight, you’re my star by doingthemost & singsongsung *Alexis/Twyla* (rated M) Twyla and Alexis spend the holidays together.

It’s My (Christmas) Party and I’ll Panic if I Want To by DelilahMcMuffin (rated T) It’s Christmas Eve and David wants nothing more than to spend the evening in Patrick’s room at Ray’s engaging in the kinds of activities that will get them on Santa’s Naughty List. But his dad has decided that he wants to throw a last minute Christmas party. And to top it all off, Patrick’s parents have shown up unexpectedly to surprise their son for the holidays. Oh, and in case that wasn’t enough, David discovers that Patrick has been keeping a pretty big secret. [...]

Just to Hold the Hands I Love by DesignatedGrape (rated T) As David peered out the window at the snow-covered neighborhood, his gaze landed on his own front lawn, which he shared with the townhouse next door. Oh. Oh, no. Sitting in the middle of the small yard, facing the street, was an honest-to-god snowman, complete with stick arms, red scarf, and plaid trapper hat, and holding some sort of sign. David rolled his eyes. His neighbor thought he was so funny.

Meet me out at the end of my rope by yourbuttervoicedbeau (rated E) What if more than one bombshell was dropped the day of Patrick's birthday — one they couldn't come back from?

Termites of Endearment by unfolded73 & vivianblakesunrisebay (rated E) After discovering the cottage has to be fumigated for termites, David and Patrick suffer a stressful day and an onslaught of memories when they have to spend the night at the motel.

there it is, beating away by blueink3 (rated T) David and Patrick befriend a single mom and her son. Well, Patrick does. David is still feeling things out.

Your Guide to Winter Trail Etiquette by middyblue (rated E) It’s not exactly a promising beginning to his New Year’s Eve ski trip weekend when David drops his bags on the couch of their little rented condo and Alexis’s new boyfriend, who’s wearing an ugly Christmas sweater almost a week after Christmas and crashing David’s plans, says in confusion, “Wait, but where’s Patrick going to sleep?” A story about things ending and things beginning, even if they come from somewhere unexpected.

and finally, just in case you missed it and are interested, i put together a list of some of my fave fics of 2020 and a little recap of my own fics from the year. happy new year and happy reading, friends!! 💗

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #fic recs #rebel fic round up

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shireness-says · 4 years ago

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The Set-Up Scam

Summary: They’ve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, they’re something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when they’ll actually get together - well, maybe there’s incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3.

~~~~~

A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. It’s been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)

You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!

Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.

Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

They’re friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other cliché there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). It’s been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each others’ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesn’t happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor.

And all that time, it’s been strictly platonic.

It’s not like Emma hasn’t looked. He’s an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But he’d been in some “it’s complicated” situation with a grad student when they’d met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available… well, by that time, they’d been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. He’d become her person, and it wasn’t worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too.

The thing, though, is that they’re Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each other’s stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that they’re together - or should be.

Emma doesn’t really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think it’s pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. It’s been years of meaningful looks and hints about “so why aren’t you seeing anyone, Emma?” - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.

“I just don’ unnerstand why you and Killian aren’t a couple!” slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. “You’re ovviously in loooooooooove.”

“Sure we are, Mary Margaret,” Emma placates.

“But why haven’t you yet?” she demands. “You made me lose the pool!”

That draws Emma up short. “I’m sorry, what?”

The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. “Don’t you know? We’ve had a betting pool going for ages about when you’d get together this year. I thought for sure it’d be the Fourth of July.”

It’s a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmother’s diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. It’d make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesn’t last long, though, as she perks right back up. “But they let me make a new guess! I’ve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.”

“How much money are we talking here?” Emma can’t help but ask. It’s like a compulsion, one she doesn’t like or understand.

“Five hundred and fifty dollars.” At least that’s what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. It’s an astounding sum. Truly stupid.

Kind of tempting.

“And everyone bet that it would happen this year?” she makes sure to clarify.

“Yup!” Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise.

“Then I’m putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I won’t get together.”

———

She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, there’s sometimes that niggling little what if?, but they’ve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. It’s not going to happen - honestly she’s not even sure she would want it to.

Until.

It’s not the Friday after her birthday, when they’re all going to hit the bar, but it’s the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, it’s a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each other’s company.

Until.

Maybe it’s the beers. Maybe something’s been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe it’s just that they’re both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and it’s like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasn’t let herself think about; he’s the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.

“That was…” he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, he’s wound up on top of her on the couch - not that she’s complaining.

“Only the beginning,” Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him.

Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping.

———

“Ok, don’t kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,” Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.

Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. “After that, darling, I’m predisposed to give you just about anything you want.”

“And I’ll give it to you again,” she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. “But seriously. Did you know that everyone’s got a bet going on us?”

That pops his head up. “I’m sorry, a bet? I… What? Who?”

“Seems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle… I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.”

“Typical,” Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. “Who’s the lucky winner, then?”

“Ok, this is where the favor comes in.” Hopefully this isn’t a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. “See, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and I’d had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of… put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldn’t get together this year at all.”

Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emma’s frankly scared that he’s going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. “So you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?”

Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killian’s thing). “Exactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.”

“I’m in, then. Under the radar.”

“It’s just two months and change,” Emma says. “It’ll speed by. How hard can it be?”

———

Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they don’t know it.

Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each others’ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. It’s just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. It’s thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. It’s nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out.

Just because they don’t know, though, doesn’t mean their friends stop trying. There’s a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killian’s supposed happiness on the line.

(The fact that they’re right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)

David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.

“Do you guys want to get dinner?” he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. “You and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.”

Emma’s antenna raises immediately. “What, like a double date? C’mon, David —”

“No! No,” he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. “No, a cousin of mine - Kris, you’ve met him - he’s opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?”

“That’s actually a thing?”

“I guess. I don’t know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured we’d bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. “So… you in?”

And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, it’s supposed to be to help someone else. David’s cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, I’m in. One of us will have to check with Killian if he’s available —”

“What, he’s not right there with you?”

(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but that’s not the point and none of David’s business.)

“ — but yeah, I’m down.”

In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it won’t be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but it’s still a chance to wear a pretty dress that’ll make Killian’s eyes bug a little. She’ll have to pick something he’ll have fun taking off of her later, once they’ve pretended to go back to their own homes.

Emma’s just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, David’s name popping up on the screen.

“We’re not going to make it tonight,” he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emma’s ever heard in her life. “We’re sick.”

“Yeah, sick off your own lies,” Emma mutters. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll go another time —”

“Oh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!”

“David, c’mon, don’t play dumb —”

He ignores her. “Besides, you’ll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. It’s all on me.”

Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emma’s face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.

“Fine,” she caves. “If you’re sure. But I’m running up the bill.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. “Looks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret aren’t coming tonight,” she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.

He snorts. “Ah, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.”

“Complicated by meddler’s cough. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course not.” He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they don’t have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. “You look lovely tonight, Swan.”

She smirks back. “I know.”

“Of course you do,” he laughs. “I’m sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?”

“We shall.” Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. “Dinner’s on David, by the way.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

———

“So, how was dinner?” David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up.

“Good,” Emma replies, knowing exactly what he’s digging for. “Your cousin’s got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Don’t worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. You’re welcome.”

“And?” he demands.

Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. “And… what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?”

Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks it’s hilarious.

(It’s especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)

(But again - those are things that David doesn’t need to know.)

———

The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each other’s company before finally getting together (without anyone’s help, she might add). Still,

Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someone’s house and carpool from there because there’s not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and it’s always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. It’s a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays.

Tonight, they’ve met at Robin’s, Killian’s former roommate. It’s a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gang’s all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and they’re raring to go - all twelve of them.

Emma hopes that it’s not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but it’s more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.

“Emma, would you mind checking the door one more time?” he calls as they congregate in the driveway. “I’m sure I locked it, but I’ve just got that niggling little feeling…”

“Sure, no problem.” And it isn’t - it’s checking the damn door. Except it’s actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back… and by the time Emma makes it back, everyone’s already piled into Mary Margaret’s station wagon and Robin’s little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt.

“Sorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,” Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. “This is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that it’s easier to crash together afterwards… it wouldn’t be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Emma grumbles. “I don’t suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he responds cheerily. “I just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.”

Asshole.

(Emma does not leave her car at Robin’s overnight - but that doesn’t stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.

“This euphemistic enough for you, love?” he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.

“How’s this for a euphemism: fuck me.”

“That’s not exactly how that word works, Swan.”

“I could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.”

Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. “As you wish.”

She’s always preferred straight talking anyways.)

———

“Thank god I found you both!” Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emma’s office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but that’s obviously a thing of the past now.

“That seems a little extreme for a Friday,” Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killian’s got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No one’s perfect, she guesses. “What terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?”

“Kathryn’s father is in the hospital, so she and Fred can’t work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.” Storybrooke County School District’s charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something that’s clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. “Would you two be able to cover tomorrow? You’d be doing me such a huge favor…”

Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emma’s eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. “My schedule’s clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the way he’s putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. “Sure, what the hell,” she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that there’s not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing she’d pull. Thankfully, they’re set up at the ring toss game. It’s not strenuous in the least; they don’t even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that they’re crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe that’s something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, it’s just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyone’s nose.

(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)

“Soooooo, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. It’s like she thinks she’ll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which… fair. The urge is there. But they’re professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. She’s not caving here.

“Just fine, Mare,” Emma replies. “Nothing worth reporting.”

“There’s not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there… nothing to report?”

“Well, you’re the one who set up the booths, so…”

“Aye, just making the best of it,” Killian helpfully adds.

Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.

“You know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?” Killian asks once their friend has walked away. “She probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.”

“I see it now,” Emma sighs. “I had just weirdly hoped she’d be above all that bullshit.”

Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. “Mary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. It’s cute that you thought that though, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

(“Mary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that they’d over-scheduled,” Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other woman’s father is doing. “Was that not the case?”)

(Fucking figures.)

———

Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, it’s Ruby. The girl’s too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.

“Pucker up!” she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killian’s heads. They’re at Ruby and Mulan’s place for… some party; it’s probably, maybe holiday themed, but Ruby’s never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma demands. “Ruby, don’t be stupid. This isn’t college anymore.”

“Oh, like we ever did this in college,” Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. “Besides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And I’m not giving that up. Now c’mon, no weaseling out of this.”

“It is the rules,” Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Ruby’s waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you hear that? Smart half says it’s the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.”

Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something that’s surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when they’re alone. Before Emma knows what he’s doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. “Who are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?” he proclaims grandly. “One kiss: delivered.”

Ruby’s face gets a bit mutinous; it’s the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. “No it isn’t! That’s cheating!”

“Eh. Technically, it was a kiss.” God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when she’s got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes.

“And more importantly, Rubes, that’s all you’re going to get from us.” And that’s Emma’s last word on the subject.

(“Happy Christmas, darling,” Killian whispers into her neck later once they’re back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. “How about it? C’mon, give us a kiss.”

Emma is more than happy to comply.)

———

Emma wouldn’t say it’s common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but it’s not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesn’t think twice about it.

“The new Scholastic catalogs are here,” Belle informs her. “I haven’t started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look now…”

“I’ll be right there.” Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. They’re chock-full of nostalgia.

“I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet,” Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. “They’re all still in the back room. Here, I’ll let you in.”

That should have been Emma’s clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emma’s too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes there’s nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks… Belle’s already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside.

So it’s yet another set up, most likely. It’s a good thing she’s not claustrophobic, at least.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killian’s voice outside the door.

“How many boxes did you say it was, Belle? I’m happy to help haul, but I’m just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Belle’s voice responds. “Just a few trips for each of us. Right in here…”

And suddenly, Killian’s in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killian’s hands have already found their way to her hips. It’s nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.

His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emma’s own face and all over again. “Did she just lock us in here?”

“Yeah, keep up, Jones,” Emma teases. “I assume another stupid set-up effort.”

That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to make the most of it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she warns. “There’s a camera in here.”

“So? It’s not like she’s watching the monitors.”

“So, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?”

“Fuck,” Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. “They’re really going overboard, aren’t they?”

“I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killian’s free period.

“I’m sure you have no idea how that happened,” he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It’s just the weirdest thing,” Belle agrees.

Well, that’s one way of putting it.

(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)

———

After what feels like an eternity, it’s finally here: New Year’s Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple they’ve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before.

They’d spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killian’s got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. There’s always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?

(Killian, apparently - but then again, he’s always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)

“Just a few more hours,” he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. “Few more hours, and then it’s all in the open.”

“Thank god for that, too. After all the PDA we’ve gotten from certain people all these years, I’m looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.”

They carpool to Mary Margaret and David’s, just like they do every year. It’s routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killian’s after the annual New Year’s Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. He’s good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; it’s just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.

They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, they’re together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. That’s how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely aren’t together. Nothing to see here, folks.

God, she’s so fucking lucky he didn’t cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.

Finally, though, it’s the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. It’s anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves.

“You ready for this, love?” he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds.

“Hell yeah,” she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but she’s ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyone’s faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?

Cheers erupt all around them, and Emma’s grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. “Happy New Year, love,” he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. “I think it’ll be our best one yet.”

Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma can’t be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. It’s just another in a series of kisses, they know - but it’s more than that. It’s a display, in the best way, declaring them them.

Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple.

“HA!” shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. It’s definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. “It’s about fucking time!”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Ruby’s brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. “It really was. And you know what else?”

Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that she’s still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.

“It’s the new year. That pot is mine.”

“That’s my girl,” Killian whispers in her ear.

Best. New Year’s. Ever.

———

On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Granny’s. Together. In public. Because they deserve it.

Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killian’s lips.

#csss20 #cssecretsanta2020 #cs ff #captain swan #cs fanfiction #my writing #the set-up scam #secret dating #friends to lovers #oh my god and they were ACCOMPLICES #happy holidays everyone!

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iamtrebleclefstories · 3 years ago

Text

I believe in second chances - part seven

teasing friends and wedding dates

hi, it’s been a minute. life got crazy busy and I had major writers block. if you need a refresher on what happened previously, go check out my master list

—Part 7—

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” Meredith teased as she walked into the attendings lounge to find Alex getting ready for the wedding.

“He’s taking Wilson with him to Bailey’s wedding,” Jackson shot a sly smile over their way. “That’s why he keeps fiddling with his tie.”

“Shut up,” Alex grumbled as he straightened his tie for the fifth time.

“Aww he’s nervous,” April laughed as she fastened her earrings. “How sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered, Karev.”

“I’m not nervous,” Alex furrowed his brow and smoothed down his jacket. “I just want to look nice. Is that so bad?”

“Oh, he’s totally nervous,” Cristina snickered. “Twenty bucks says he makes a fool out of himself tonight.”

“Nah, I think he’s gonna get laid tonight,” Jackson’s lips curved up into a grin.

“Will you guys shut up already?” Alex huffed, annoyed at their constant meddling. “We’re going as friends. I already told you guys. I’m not rushing anything, I’m not pushing anything. And my goal isn’t to get into her pants.”

“I hate this mature, sappy side of you,” Cristina scowled in disgust. “You’re no fun anymore. What happened to filthy, diseased, manwhore Alex?”

“He fell in love,” Alex replied simply, gaining a slew of raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his friends.

“Woah he actually said it. He admitted that he’s in love with her,” April’s jaw dropped.

“Pay up, Avery,” Cristina extended her hand. “I told you he was gonna say it.”

“You guys suck,” Alex glared at them and stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys at the wedding.”

Alex walked out of the attendings lounge and over to the intern locker room, palms sweating. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if he and Jo hadn’t spent alone time together. They’d gone out to the bar and for pizza after work multiple times. This wasn’t anything they hadn’t done previously. Even in the before, when Jo and Alex weren’t nearly as close as they were now, the concept of the two of them going out alone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But for some reason, Alex couldn’t slow the hammering of his heart as he approached the locker room.

Straightening his tie one more time and clearing his throat, Alex walked into the room. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as Jo walked out of the bathroom and mooted out her dress. Jo’s eyes widened as she saw Alex waiting in the doorway, dressed up in suit and tie, fidgeting nervously.

She blushed lightly when she noticed his staring, “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiled bashfully. “You… you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jo’s cheeks flushed at the compliment.

They stood there awkwardly for a second before Alex shook himself from his thoughts and spoke, “You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready,” Jo answered and grabbed her purse, walking out the door Alex held open. “So… Bailey’s actually getting married today.”

“Yup,” Alex nodded.

“Guess that means the interns should stop calling her booty-call Bailey. Since she’s going to be a married woman and all,” Jo chuckled slightly.

Alex let out a snort. He’d forgotten about the nickname the interns had given Bailey his first year as a fellow, “Yeah… might be a good idea.”

*****

“Dude go talk to her,” Jackson urged Alex. “She’s been sitting at the bar alone for the last twenty minutes. You need to go over there before one of the groomsmen tries to pick her up and take her home tonight.

Alex shot Jackson a glare, “Shut up, no one is going to take her home tonight except me.” His eyes widened when realized how that sentence sounded. “I mean… I’m going to, I just… I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to say.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to seeing you like this,” April took another sip of her wine. “Just have a conversation with her like a normal human being. Jackson is right. You can’t sit here forever.”

“I know that,” Alex groaned when April and Jackson’s pagers went off.

“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to go talk to her now because we are leaving,” Jackson smirked and held out his hand for April to follow him.

“Good luck Romeo,” April waved as she and Jackson walked away.

Alex exhaled and made his way over to the bar where Jo was sulking. Burying his hands in his pockets and plastering a nervous smile on his face, he motioned for the bartender, “Beer for me and another round for Hobo Jo. Let me guess… Thunderbird? Or is it straight paint thinner?” He grinned at the bartender. “You got a little brown paper bag you can put that in?”

“Stop that,” Jo rolled her eyes as a smile creeped its way onto her face. “I had no parents. I lived in my car. But you can’t exactly say you’re any better, “Mr. I went to juvie.’”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed. “At least you didn’t have to see your schizo mom go after your baby brother with a steak knife. Which reminds me - I should call and check on them. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Jo hummed. She looked down at the drink in her hand. “Where did Kepner and Avery go? I thought you were talking with them at the table.”

“They got paged for a trauma,” Alex answered.

“Do we have to go?” Jo stood up from the chair. “Let’s go.”

“Oh no,” Alex guided Jo back to her seat. “You don’t get to practice medicine with booze in your system. Besides, you’re on peds and we’re not needed.”

“But I wanted to get in on a cool trauma surgery,” Jo pouted.

“If you keep drinking like that, you’ll be the trauma case,” Alex quipped, eliciting a playful glare from Jo. “After this, no more paint thinner. I’ll buy you a couple beers, though. I know your limit on those.”

“Kill joy,” Jo responded and ordered a round of tequila shots, leaving Alex to stare in disbelief. “Oh come on, do at least one round of shots with me. I’m much more fun to be around when I’m drunk anyway.”

“Call me crazy, but I prefer you sober,” Alex pushed the shot glasses the bartender had placed in front of them away from Jo.

“Alex. Please,” Jo looked at him with wide eyes and stuck out her bottom lip.

“Really? Puppy dog eyes. You’re seriously going to go there?” Alex gave her an unimpressed look.

“Is it working?”

Not being able to say no to that face, Alex relented, "Fine. But only one round of shots and no more. I don't feel like throwing you over my shoulder and hauling your drunk ass out of here tonight."

"Why not? That sounds like fun," Jo's eyes shined brightly.

"Shut up," Alex rolled his eyes.

*****

"Oh my God, did you see his face?" Jo held her stomach as she cackled. "It was priceless. And your face! Your face when he walked in was hilarious."

"And then you threw the vodka shots at him," Alex wiped a couple tears. "Oh man… I haven't laughed like that in years."

It was true, the first time he'd experienced breaking into a stranger's hotel room in the before had been hilarious, but this time around was somehow funnier than he remembered it. Maybe it's because he knew Jo better in this reality. Knowing who she was made it easier to laugh with her and be himself.

Something that he was reminded of since waking up in this timeline was that he never had to be afraid to be himself with Jo. In this timeline as well as the previous one, she had immediately accepted him for who he was. It was an overwhelming realization. Before Jo, no one had simply accepted him for who he was and not who they wanted him to be. Sure his friends accepted him--eventually--but It wasn't without trying to change him first before realizing that this was who he was.

He fought the desire to just pull Jo into his arms and kiss her. He couldn't do that. Not when everything that happened in this timeline depended on the decisions he made going forward.

Still, Alex couldn't help himself as he stared at Jo who sat at the Kitchen island with a carefree smile on her face. So, he finally made his move, "Let's go out today. We both have off, we should do something fun, go somewhere nice.”

"Why would we go out when we can laze around and do nothing here?" Jo reached out for a banana that was in the bowl in front of her. "Besides, going out during the day isn't really our thing. If we go out it's usually for drinks after work and we inevitably end up back here and sit on the couch watching bad TV and joking around for hours until we fall asleep. Plus, I don't even want to think about alcohol after last night. And I definitely do not want to see the state of my liver."

Alex shook his head, "I'm not asking you to get day drunk with me. I'm asking you to go out with me."

Jo's jaw dropped and the banana in her hands fell onto the counter and her eyes looked as though they might bulge out of her skull at any second. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before speaking, "Oh… You mean a… Oh!" She blinked at him a few times. "Alex… I'm just… I come with a lot of baggage--"

"I know, and that's okay," Alex assured her.

" I'm- I'm not ready to be with anyone yet," Jo attempted to let him down gently. "I like you, I really do. You're probably my best friend. But I need to fix my mess first. One day soon, I'll do it. I'll fix the mess in my brain and I'll be ready."

"Okay," Alex nodded. "Well, I'll be here when you are."

If Jo needed any confirmation or indicator as to what kind of man Alex was, that one comment was enough to crush any doubts she may have had about his character.

"You'd really do that? You'd wait?" She asked.

"Look, I'm going to say something that might freak you out a little because you get squirrely when you're scared, but Jo… I want you and I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait my whole damn life for you because you're worth it. You’re worth being waited on," Alex sighed, eyes softening at the woman sitting across from him. "For now, we're whatever you want us to be. You're taking the lead."

"Let's go out," Jo shrugged. "I mean, we're friends, right? We can still go out. Friends go out with each other."

"Yeah," Alex replied casually. "We can do that."

"Okay."

#jolex #jolex fanfic #alex karev #jo wilson #grey's anatomy #jo x alex #grey's anatomy fanfiction #jolex fanfiction #jo and alex #grey's anatomy fanfic #meredith grey #cristina yang #april kepner #jackson avery #rewriting canon #callie torres #miranda bailey #I believe in second chances

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