#this question list has such a possibility for cute domestic moments

[multifandom--mess]

Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.2

Here it is, the big fat fic recs post I've been putting off for like two months but at least that means I had time to read a shit ton of fics. I made sure to do a mix of short and long fics this time around since the first part were all long ones. Enjoy!

part 1

》 The Lamb and His Monster by petrodactyl352 (Explicit)(104k)

Will has always been drawn to the macabre. The proverbial flame upon which he has burnt his fragile moth’s wings time and time again, it’s why he had fallen in love with Florence and why he alone seems to see the beauty in the grisly but exquisite work of Il Mostro. But when he meets a young man in the Uffizi Gallery whose sketchbook is filled with nothing but page upon page of intricate renditions of the Primavera drawn in reverent strokes of pencil, he realizes he may not be alone in his fascination with the Monster. As they lift veils and scale forts and slowly begin to understand each other, Will gets a taste of exactly how bright the cinders of intrigue can burn—and how quickly they can kindle into an inferno of obsession.

(Young hannigram in Florence ahhh this is seriously one of the best fics i've ever read it had to be at the top of the list)

》 Spectral Hearts by mattHughdancy (Explicit) (16k)

Will has a meltdown at a crime scene. Guess who’s called in to help.

(Another top fave of mine they are so fucking cute in this fic 🤧 features autistic Will, and Hannibal just loves him so much oh my goddd my heart exploded reading this)

》 lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter (Explicit)(35k)

Will Graham meets Hannibal, a frequent cruiser, at an open-minded nudist lake. Despite his reservations, Will is drawn to him, but is eventually forced to question his mysterious nature when the lakeside regulars start to go missing.

(I loved this one bc what better setting than a nudist lake. This is just gay as hell honestly lmao bc the lake is all dudes and Will is "straight" at the beginning until he meets Hannibal and it's all downhill from there. Definitely give this one a read it had some hilarious moments too)

》 Doing Things That Friends Don't Do by HigherMagic (Explicit) (39k)

A year after the fall, Will and Hannibal have settled into a fairly blissful, domestic harmony. But Will's imagination has never let him simply enjoy what he has - why should it start now?

(Basically Will trying everything in his power NOT to have sex with Hannibal but of course we all know he can't keep it together. They are so horny for each other in this i died laughing so many times. Also this author is such an amazing writer expect multiple recs from them in this post)

》 Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles (12k)(Explicit)

Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

(A strangers to lovers meet-cute on a train. Lots of fluffy moments and of course train sex ensues)

》 Three Stars by beforethedawn (94k)(Explicit)

Three months after the fall, Jack finally tracks them down in Canada and Will and Hannibal have to make a run for it, slumming it through America in three star hotels and eating sub par food.

(Hannigram roadtrip!! This fic was so fun I loved it. They take on the identities of some familiar Mads and Hugh characters ;)

》 Unexpected Delight by HigherMagic (Explicit) (61k)

Will has a kink that he’s deeply ashamed of. Unbeknownst to him, Hannibal has the same or a similar/compatible kink. They get together, and Will is going out of his way as he usually does to seem like his sexual tastes are as “normal” as possible. As a result, Hannibal gets the idea that Will is super vanilla and maybe a little prudish, and not wanting to scare him off, is also keeping his kinky side on the DL. This goes on for while, with them each trying super hard to hide how kinky they are and act as “vanilla” as possible, to hilarious results, all while privately thinking the other one would be super freaked out if they knew since they’re obviously so sweet and normal.

(This whole thing is literally ALL smut 😭😭 but Han and Will love each other to death and the sex is so good y'all omg I had to stop reading multiple times to catch my breath)

》 The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease (Explicit) (10k)

When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks...

(A seaon 1 au if Hannibal wasn't an asshole had told Will about the encephalitis. This is hilarious tho because the students don't like Will no more when he comes back and they keep asking about Hannibal 😭😭 poor Will lmaoo)

》 When This Old Tired Body Wants to Sing by KareliaSweet (Explicit) (7k)

“Fuck me quicker, darling,” he purrs with liquid insincerity, “God forbid you see my face.” Will never touches him unless it is in the dark. In the daylight he is a ghost.

(Will being an asshole and only fucking Hannibal in the dark ugh 🙄 but things work out eventually so don't worry!)

》 Maybe Tomorrow by Shotgun_sinner (Explicit) (26k)

After recovering from their tumble off a cliff, Will agrees to get Hannibal to Portugal, where the good doctor can start a new life for himself. In exchange, Will can take the boat and return to his life, or start over himself. A storm hits on the open water, leaving them stranded somewhere in the Azores. With no one else on the small island, they're forced to work together for survival, and work through their violent past in order to get along.

(A survival au! I LOVED this and author is another fave of mine. I go crazy for a good stranded on a deserted island trope and this did not disappoint. Also there is an insanely funny part where I absolutely DIED. You'll know when you read it 💀💀)

》 I've Always Been A Daughter by air_of_the_Waterfall (44k)(Explicit)

It's been a month since Will and Abigail ran away with Hannibal. Living in a safe Canadian town, Will and Hannibal are free to explore their newfound intimacy and Abigail has a chance at the future she craves. However, upon meeting Hannibal’s sister Mischa and her daughter, loyalties are tested and insecurities run rampant. The Lecters have an undeniably dark past, and as Abigail and Will fall deeper into its truths, Hannibal’s manipulation and misguided love come to light more clearly than ever before.

(This fic is truly a hidden gem I am so glad I found it. Murder family post-mizumono and also MISCHA LIVES. The plot is so well written and I love Mischa's characterization. Definitely give this one a read, yall it is SO GOOD it deserves so much love)

》 Home is Not a Place by Shotgun_Sinner (11k)(Explicit)

Post-Fall, Hannibal recovers from his injuries. Will takes care of him, and their relationship evolves much more easily than Hannibal thought it would. The only issue is that Will is a constant presence, and he hasn't had alone time in three years. It ends up not being an issue at all.

(This one is so sweet. Basically Hannibal wants to jerk off but he can't because Will is just always there and he hardly gets a moment alone and he'll feel bad for telling him to go away 😭😭 but they finally get together in the end

》 Held in the Highest Regard by HigherMagic (12k)(Explicit)

What happens when a group of serial killers pick the absolute worst targets? Will is already having a pretty rough night, since Hannibal proposed to him and Will said 'No' for reasons he still hasn't quite figured out yet. It's not their fault - they couldn't have known - but sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way, and Will could definitely use some stress relief.

(If you are familiar with the movie 'The Strangers' then you'll really like this one. I reread it like three times it was so good. Shit had me tweaking omg this is like the perfect au for them)

》 Green-Eyed Monster by CestPasDuBaudelaire (53k)(Explicit)

Will and Hannibal have settled in Cuba and, for the past year, they have been living their happily ever after in a small hidden community for retired wanted criminals. However, at the hazard of a gathering, Will is faced with an unbelievable fact, other members of the community may also fancy his monster of a husband. Then comes Will's spiraling, as he learns to come to terms with a disastrous, chaotic and slowly overwhelming possessiveness. And of course, feelings are never easy to deal with, when Hannibal is involved. A smut character study in three acts exploring Will's possessiveness.

(Top!Will my beloved. Don't let the title fool you, this was so fun to read and I love the community for wanted criminals idea. And possessive Will is always a treat ;)

》 Haunted by Anonymous (165k)(Explicit)

Still recovering from their fight with Dolarhyde, Will and Hannibal escape to New Orleans with Chiyoh's help. But Will is still struggling to accept Hannibal and his own darkness, something that Hannibal has every intention of helping him overcome...

(And finally I leave you guys with this monster of a fic. So sad that the author chose to go anon but if they somehow see this I hope they know how much I love this story. Will is struggling and Hannibal is an asshole at certain points but when is he not? Lots of references to Will's past too and some stuff about his mom that's very interesting)

I hope you guys enjoy these stories as much as I did. If you read any and want to discuss my messages and ask box are always open! ♡♡♡

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Long distance love birds, Stasi and King move in together after graduating college. Cue the ‘let’s christen this place’ jokes, but Kingsley has something a bit more heartfelt in mind.

🤎 Anastasia James: 21, travel blogger

🤎 Kingsley Mancini: 22, photographer

🤎 CW/TW: fluff, lesbians being lesbians, proposal, kissing, pet names, consensual groping, suggestive comments, hickeys, domestic activities, alcohol, swearing, romantic stuff, Italian and Spanish (translations provided), nsfwish, slight angst (only in the beginning for the most part), no google translate, proofread (but not really i need to be sleep rn)

🤎 A/N: Another piece for my love @certainlynotasimp enjoy sugarplum 🫶🏽 (reminder, requests for my tag list are open as well as in general) I was lazy and didn't feel like writing a description for the garden, nor the rings so...deal with it I guess. Enjoy !!

🤎 Notes:

Kingsley was raised by Afro Italian (Mumi) and Afro Spanish (Ma’) mothers so she grew up speaking both Spanish and Italian (born in Italy) 🇮🇹🇪🇸

Anastasia was raised by Afro Dominican parents and grew up speaking Spanish (born in London) 🇩🇴

Kingsley’s contact name for Anastasia is Italian and it means ‘my brown sugar honey’ 🥺

Anastasia is contact name for Kingsley is Spanish and it means ‘my cinnamon apple baby’ 🤎

🤎 Translations: (all translations were checked with the help of deepl translate)

Ma’, pensi davvero che dovrei farlo?- Mom, do you really think I should do this?

Guardami- Look at me

Bimbi- nickname meaning little one

Mumi- nickname meaning Mom

Mi nenita, toda crecida- My little girl, all grown up

Ti amo sempre di più piccola amore- I love you more and more, baby love

No más que yo- Not more than me

Cicchi- nickname meaning chocolate

Bichita- nickname meaning little bug

Merda- shit

Scusi? Non è così che parli davanti a tua madre- I beg your pardon? (Lit. Excuse me) That’s not how you speak in front of your mother

Mi dispiace, mamma- I’m sorry, mom

Cara mia- my dear

Mamme- moms

Buona fortuna- good luck

Buona serata- have a good evening

Ora- now

Madrine- godmothers

Sei proprio un romcompiglioni, Valé- You really are a pain in the ass, Valé

Picci- nickname meaning little or small one

Puttana- bitch

¡Ay Dios mío!- oh Lord or oh God

Paella- Spanish rice dish

Ricotta gnudi- Italian dumplings

È perfetto- it's perfect

Mis favoritos- my favorites

Muevete, por favor. Déjame ir para que podamos ir a casa, mi amor- move, please. Let me go so we can go home, my love

Darmi un bacio- give me a kiss

Su con la vita, amore mio. Ti darò tutti i baci che vuoi dopo cena- Cheer up, my love. I'll give you all the kisses you want after dinner

🤎 Word count: 3.6k

18 June 2017

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Kingsley

To say I was scared shitless that day was an understatement. I had no idea how she’d respond. Even though we were moving into a house together and had been together for 3 and a half years, I don’t think my anxiety has ever been worse. But I was in love. I still am in love. And I’m going to marry the love of my life.

I played with the ring, looking to my mother in question, “Ma’, pensi davvero che dovrei farlo? I mean…what if she thinks it’s too soon?”

She regarded me for a moment before she spoke, placing her hand over mine to stop me from fidgeting with the ring, “Guardami. I can’t tell you how she’ll respond, bimbi. Have you two ever discussed the idea of marriage?”

“I mean, yeah, we have. And we agreed we wanted to get married before we made it to 5 years together, but like…at first I figured with the house it’d be cute to propose to her now that we’re finally moving into it, but what if……what if it’s too much all at once?”

“Then I’m sure you guys will figure it out. Not being ready for marriage is nothing to break up over, I tell you that.”

“Were you and Mumi ready back then?”

My mumi poked her head in from the kitchen with a smile that ma’ shared, “I wasn’t. It was a different time back then, though. It was hard enough that we hadn’t come out our families yet. The thought of coming out and announcing an engagement? I was terrified.”

Ma kissed her cheek as she sat down next to her, “She helped me reevaluate my reason for wanting to marry right then in the first place. I thought that if we were married when we came out it would legitimize our relationship a little more in their eyes. Sure, I loved her, and yes I truly wanted to marry her it just wasn’t for the right reasons right then. In the end we just agreed that we’d wait to plan the wedding until we were both ready, and in the meantime, we’d grown even closer for it.”

“Very cute, you two but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Mumi reached across the table to rub my arm, “Well, why do you want to marry her, Mimi?”

The thought of my girlfriend was usually enough to turn me into a blushing and flustered mess, but sitting in front of my mothers, all I could do was gush about her and this time was no different.

I beamed as I took Mumi’s hand, “Because in all my years, though few they might be, I have never found anyone who sees me the way she does. Anastasia is the muse I had been in search for when I switched my studies abroad. She’s- she’s my everything, simply put. I love her with my entire being. And I want to marry her because she’s someone I don’t think I can live the rest of my life without.”

They shared a look as they both teared up, Ma rubbing Mumi’s shoulder, “Mi nenita, toda crecida.”

My phone lit up with her contact name on it and I held up a hand as I turned my chair around to check the message:

“Looks like someone just got a text from their girlfriend. Feeling better, Mimi?”

I nodded as I looked over my lock screen, “Sure did. Her flight is taking off soon. Which means I have 2 and a half hours to get my life together. Whew, okay……I’m doing this. I’m about to propose to my girlfriend. Merda-“

“Scusi? Non è così che parli davanti a tua madre,” Ma scolded me.

I rubbed the back of my neck, sheepish and apologetic, “Mi dispiace, mamma.”

“Cara mia, go easy on her. She’s stressing out right now,” Mumi defended, tossing me a wink.

I held back my smile as I spoke, “I am sorry, though. Should I…I don’t know, decorate the house a little bit? You know, candles, flowers? Maybe some balloons?”

“Did you show her the garden when you guys bought the place?”

“No, I wanted it to be…a surprise for when we moved in,” I finished, getting excited. I hopped from my seat, sticking the ring in my pocket as I rushed to my mothers, wrapping my arms around their shoulders and kissing both their cheeks, “Mwah, I love you both so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, mamme. I’ll tell you how it goes tomorrow, I promise.”

“Be safe, bimbi.”

“Buona fortuna, Mimi.”

“Buona serata,” I called as I headed out the front door.

I all but sped off to the house, instantly palming my forehead at the sight of the mover’s truck parked at the end of the driveway, my best friend guiding the workers.

“Kingsley Allegra Vittoria Mancini. Get your ass over here and help! Ora!”

I bit my lip as I grabbed a box of Stasi’s things from the truck, “Wow, Valé. Happy to see you too.”

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t see me before you left to go stress out my madrine. Has the flight left yet?”

“Yeah, Bubbles text me like 30 minutes ago to let me know that they were preparing for take off. Say, I need you to pick some things up for me actually.”

“No.”

I smacked as I set the box on the couch, “You don’t even know what I want nor what for yet.”

“I’ll do it for 500 bucks,” she offered.

“Sei proprio un romcompiglioni, Valé. I don’t have 500 bucks. You know that.”

“Cap.”

“Okay, maybe I do, but dammit, will you just hear me out?”

She folded her arms, quirking a brow at me as she tapped her foot, “Alright. And it better be good or I’m only dropping to 250.”

I pulled the keys from my pocket, holding them out for her to take, “Here.”

She frowned as she took them, “And just what the h-“ she cut off with a gasp as she noticed the ring, inspecting it, “Oh, babes….she’s gonna love it. You’re proposing?”

“Yeah, and I don’t have long. I need you to get some things for me to set up the garden for it. I’m gonna put it all together, but I need you to go get it while I put all these boxes up and out of the way with the movers.”

She rolled her eyes as she handed the keys back, grabbing her car keys from the ledge over the fireplace, “Send me a list. I’ll try to hurry. I know that flight isn’t long and you’ve gotta shower and pick her up as well.”

“That I do. Thanks, Valéncia.”

“Uh-oh. Mimi’s nervous. Talk to me.”

“Do you think I’m moving too fast?”

“It’s been almost 4 years, picci. You guys have bought a house together, and didn’t you both agree that one of you should propose before you guys make 5 years?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

She placed a hand on my shoulder, shutting me up, “No buts. You’ve got this, babes. Hurry with that list, stop stressing yourself or you’ll chicken out.”

I pushed her off of me, rolling my eyes playfully, "Oh, shut it you old bat. I’ll tell you and the mamme how it goes in the morning, okay?”

“Alright, hop to it, asshole.”

I helped the movers take all the boxes into one of the many empty rooms of the house, thanking them for the help before retreating to the guest bathroom to shower and freshen myself up.

My brain couldn’t help but wander as I pulled on my clothes, anxiety twisting in my stomach like a storm brewing on the horizon.

I had a horrifying cacophony of ‘what ifs’ and questions. What if she says no? What if it makes her change her mind about us moving in together? What if I stutter? What if I fall into the lake? What if something catches fire with the candles? What if she doesn’t even answer? What if I lose the ring?

What if she doesn’t like the ring? What if everything that could possibly go wrong does?

What if?

“Puttana! You better not be up there bitchin’ in your head.”

I rolled my eyes as I made my way downstairs, “You got my shit?”

“Of course! I also have some food. You need to eat.”

I shook my head as I took the bags from her hands like a madwoman, rushing toward the back door, “Can’t eat. I think I’ll be sick.”

“¡Ay Dios mío! Please eat for me, Kingsley. Madrina Morgana said you didn’t eat with them and you didn’t eat with me this morning. Just a bite at least.”

“What did you bring?”

She beamed, holding the Tupperware from Ma, “Paella from your Ma and Mumi made ricotta gnudi.”

“Give me a dumpling so I can go set this up and get to the airport for my baby. You can put the rest in the car.”

“Kingsley.”

“Yes?”

“One more thing before I go?”

“What is it,” I asked impatiently as I turned back to her.

She rolled her eyes as she handed me a velvet box, grumbling, “Here, witcha angry ass.”

“Girl what the f-“

My voice died on my tongue as she turned to head out the front door with a smirk, “Mumi owes me 20 bucks.”

I whispered as I looked on at the ring, smiling, “È perfetto.”

Anastasia

Actual heart stop that day. Speechless isn’t even the word. I forgot what words even were. Yet here I am. Engaged to the love of my life.

I laughed softly to myself as my notifications started coming in:

I poked my lip out as she picked up the call, “You know how I feel about surprises, Mimi. Tell me~”

“No, Bubbles. You just have to wait and see. Besides, you said yourself that you like surprises that include blindfolds,” she mumbled, smirk evident in her tone.

I fought back a smile of my own, squeezing my legs together as I watched the carousel of luggage for my suitcase, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t…but I still wanna know what you’re planning. What if I had something planned and your surprise interferes with it?”

“Well, do you have something planned,” she chimed as I made my way down the escalator. She pulled me into her arms the second I was close enough in reach as I hung up, placing my phone into my pocket.

“I mean, nothing too big, but….yeah I had a lil something-something planned,” I admitted, nibbling on my thumbnail as I thought about the package I’d asked Valé to slip into the house.

“I mean we still have time before it gets dark enough outside to do what I want,” she whispered against my skin as she pressed soft kisses along my jaw and cheek.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I squirmed in her arms, “Alright, alright! You got your one kiss, now muevete, por favor. Déjame ir para que podamos ir a casa, mi amor. I think we’ve given enough of a show in this lobby.”

She relented, letting go of me after one more kiss to my lips, “Alright, alright. I guess the longer we stand here the less time we have to lay up together.”

I prodded her with my elbow as she grabbed the handles for my suitcase and carry-on while I picked up the poster board, “Hey, at least you know.”

I studied the poster she had made as she dragged my luggage alongside her, poking my bottom lip out, “You know what, I might just let you have some tonight. I mean, you made me a proper poster this time around and everything.”

She scoffed at the accusation, “What do you mean “this time around”? My posters are always proper.”

“Yeah, proper jokes. Last time you picked me up after a flight the poster was welcoming me home from rehab. And the time before that it was prison,” I exclaimed.

“I stand by those. They were hilarious,” she shrugged, opening the trunk.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s ride.”

45 minutes later…

After a car ride full of Kingsley rubbing on my thigh like she’d never have a chance to hold it again, I was playing in her hair as she lay on my chest between my legs, kissing my chin.

I smiled, tilting my head down for our lips to meet, “Mm, should I get dressed up for this little dinner you’ve got planned?”

“Just a little bit. You know I know you look good in anything, but you’re gonna wanna be at least a little dressed up for this,” she mumbled before leaning into my kiss.

Kissing her always felt like everything, everywhere, all at once. Every place where our bodies met my skin blazed with heat, all sprouting from the pit of my belly. I could feel her smile against my lips as she moved higher over me, tongue lavishing mine before she sucked on it, coaxing a moan from my throat.

Breathless, I took two handfuls of her shirt as she pulled away slightly, forehead rested against mine, “Well damn, Kingsley. Tell me something good then.”

She chuckled, pressing soft kisses against my lips in between her words, “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“Mm, I think I’ve got a pretty good one. I mean you haven’t stopped touching nor kissing me since I got here. I don’t mind though.”

Soft brushes with her lips turned hungry as hot, open-mouthed kisses scathed their way down my jaw, her mouth latching onto a pulse point as she sucked softly. I sucked air in through my teeth, a whimper escaping me as her teeth nibbled on the area, “Fuck…”

She let go, kissing the new bruise, “You alright up there?”

I huffed, caressing her cheek with my thumb, “Yeah, I’m okay. Darmi un bacio?”

She moved as if to oblige, lips ghosting over mine before she sat back, rubbing my thighs, “Later. Go get dressed, Bubbles.”

I pouted, folding my arms across my chest, whining, “Hey! You’ve been kissing me all this time, but now that I asked for one it’s a no? Meanie.”

She kissed my cheek quite audibly before pecking my bottom lip, “Su con la vita, amore mio. Ti darò tutti i baci che vuoi dopo cena.”

“Hmph,” I frowned harder, turning my face away from her.

“Stasi-“ she called in a sing song, pulling me into her with her arms around my waist, “The quicker you get ready, the sooner we can kiss.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning into her kiss on my cheek, “Fine. You’ve gotta look cute too, then. And dibs on upstairs. You’ve gotta get ready down here.”

“Whatever~” she rolled her eyes, pushing me up, “Get to it.”

I waited for her to take her clothes downstairs before locking the door, hopping on the sink counter, “Hello?”

“Stasi! How are you, love?”

“Doing quite alright, Ma. I had a question.”

“Yes?”

I nibbled my lip as I looked under the sink for the package, “Could you put me on speaker, actually? So Mumi could hear me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Cara mia, Anastasia’s on the phone!”

“Ah, darling! How are you?”

I chuckled, “Well, I was hoping to ask you guys for something.”

“Anything,” they answered in unison before laughing together.

“So, you guys know that Kingsley and I have been together for almost 4 years now, and obviously we’re moving in together finally, but I was wondering if maybe-“

“Yes.”

“What?”

Ma giggled as Mumi responded, “Go ahead and ask her. I’m sure you guys will be great.”

My face flushed as I put the velvet bag on the counter, “Thanks guys. It means more than you know.”

“Oh trust us, we know. Go on, you have business to attend to,” Ma chimed.

It didn’t take me long to get ready. At least, I didn’t think it did until a knock sounded on the door, “Baby? I forgot you take forever and a day to get ready. Are you almost done?”

“Not even close,” I joked, putting on my lipgloss.

She groaned, “Ugh, I got myself into this.”

I opened the door, her jaw dropping as I did, “I’m just joking, my love. You ready?” She just eyed me appreciatively, mouth still agape. I closed it, smirking, “Don’t act like you’ve never seen me dressed up before. Come on, you have a surprise for me, don’t you?”

She cleared her throat, scratching her neck sheepishly, “Yeah um…right, right. C’mon, follow me, Bubs.”

I laced my fingers with hers, following her downstairs to the living room. As we reached the couch, she grabbed a strip of silk from the back of the couch, “Alright, time for my favorite part.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, yeah, get it over with, will you?”

She moved with the utmost delicacy and care, sweeping my hair behind my shoulders as she pulled the fabric over my eyes, securing it at the back of my head. She spoke softly in my ear, always with a flair for the dramatic, “Do you trust me?”

“With all of my being,” I whispered, a thrill running through my spine as she placed a kiss to the area behind my ear.

Her hand returned to mine and I followed quite blindly behind her as she led me through an unfamiliar feeling area and I tightened my hold on her hand, causing her to stroke her thumb over my knuckles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. It won’t take long at all, I promise.”

I felt her stop in front of me, taking my other hand into hers, “Okay so, before I untie your blindfold, I just want you to know that I promise I hid this place from you on purpose.”

“Will you just take this damned thing off of me?”

She reached around my head, untying the fabric, “Ready?”

Fighting the urge to reach up and snatch the blindfold off, I nodded, “Yes.” She pulled it away, my eyes taking a moment to focus on her before shifting to the scene behind her as I gasped, “What is that?”

She snickered, “It’s a garden, duh.”

And what a beautiful garden it was.

She led me closer to it, as I smiled, “Help- the fireflies?”

She grinned sheepishly, “I had nothing to do with that, but lucky us, I guess?”

I studied her shifty demeanor, noting how nervous she seemed, “Okay, what’s up with all this? What are you doing?”

She rolled her eyes, kissing the back of my knuckles, “You’re so impatient all the time, oh my God. Okay, okay…whew……I can do this.”

“Hey, eyes on me, loser. Breathe first,” I instructed.

She scrunched her nose in distaste, “Shut it. I’m getting to it, I swear. So, I know we’ve been together for 3 years, 9 months, and 13 days-“

“And why do you know that off the top of your head,” I questioned, half-shocked and half-enamored.

“Details, unimportant,” she responded, waving a hand as she continued, “Seeing that we’ve been together for almost 4 years now and are finally moving in together, I was nervous as hell, but I ultimately decided I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. With that being said,” she began, moving to get on her knee as she reached in her pocket.

I stopped her, shaking my head with a hand on her shoulder, “Wait, come here.”

She looked at me confused as she stood, hand still poised at her pocket, “Yeah?”

I reached for my own pocket with one hand, prompting her to continue with my other, “Nothing, go ahead.”

Things clicked as she pulled out a velvet box at the same time I pulled out a velvet bag and she palmed her forehead, chuckling softly, “God, and here I was worried that you’d have said no.”

I smiled, teasing, “Awww, you were stressing over little ole me? For the record not only am I saying yes, but it’s a hell yes times a bajillion.”

She took my free hand in hers, bringing it to her lips, “Well, I know that now, but can I ask properly? I did in fact have a proper speech in mind.”

“Who am I to deny you such a sweet request?”

She returned to her knee, stroking her thumb over my knuckles as she took a deep breath, looking up at me, “As I said earlier, I was nervous as hell, I spent the majority of the morning pulling out my hair back home about any and every worry under the sun, but talking to my moms reminded me why I want to ask you in the first place. I first switched to studying abroad in search of a greater muse than what I could find here in Italy. Luck would only have it that I ended up with you as my guide around London. You’ve been my inspiration, my best friend-don’t tell Valé I said that-my lover, and I want nothing more than to live the rest of my life with you by my side. With that all being said, yes I forgot half of what I wanted to say the second I saw you, I love you and it would do me a wonderful honor if you would marry me.”

I poked my lip out, “I would love to marry you, bichita. On one condition.”

“Yes,” she questioned, eyes still looking up at me full of love and hope.

I tugged her from her knee once more as I pulled out my mother’s engagement ring, “You have to agree to marry me as well.”

She smiled, eyes watering a bit as she opened the velvet box in her hand, revealing a ring I recognized all too well, “I do. Trust me, if nothing else, I will marry you, and start a family, and take care of you.”

I poked my lip out, chuckling through my tears, “Kingsley….is that…is that the ring from when your Ma proposed to Mumi?”

She nodded, “I had went and gotten a ring made for you but Mumi sent it over here by Valé earlier. So? You’re definitely saying 'yes' right now, right?”

I nodded as she took my hand, “Yes, baby. I’ll marry you.”

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

🤎 Taglist 🤎:

@certainlmarseilleotasimp @trafalgardvivi

[selfshipstorm]

Howdy Bear! I wanted to ask these for the OTP prompt ask game thingy!

Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry? For Steve?

Describe their weekend getaway? For Eddie?

Do they like watching clouds or star gazing? For John?

Tex @tex-treasures

Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry? -okay, so, I can see this happening. rebecca's spending the night at Steve's and she winds up waking up with a hankering for some food. Stealthing her way out of bed, she heads for the kitchen. Clumsy half asleep hunting for food wakes Steve up, who decides that y'know what, he wouldn't mind food either, so there they are, in the kitchen, trying to successfully make whatever came to mind.

Describe their weekend getaway? -it doesn't have to be fancy. an ideal weekend for the two of them would be a spontaneous pick up and go. Eddie calls, twenty minutes later he's in the driveway and Dottie and a duffle bag climb in before they race off into the afternoon. it's just them, whatever junk food Eddie brought, and two or three days together, probably camping out in the back of his van.

Do they like watching clouds or star gazing? -John grows to like star gazing because Minerva likes to. It's one of my interests I push on all my s/is. I like the stars, I know a lot of the stories behind the constellations. I could see them late at night after all the planes are in, going out to the airstrip on John's ranch to watch the stars. Initially John acts like it annoys him, but he grows more and more fond of the activity as time goes on and he learns more about the stars, and spends some good quality time with Minerva.

Thanks for the ask!!

@tex-treasures

[gangrenados]

Could you do good things and bad things about datiang the Bat boys and Bruce? I ask you for bad things because relationships aren't perfect. Please

This is my first time ever writing for Bruce sooo pls be kind it has been a rough day

•First of all of them are vigilantes which means that they might have some issues separating his hero life with the normal one no matter how hard thet might try.

•They have seen the worst part of humanity and after you have witnessed those kind of horrors there's not turning back. Every imperfection in buildings, locations that have a questionable reputation and people who seem mightily suspicious will trigger their vigilante senses.

•what I'm trying to say here? They can get protective without even notice. After being the one in the line for to long you're afraid those you love might get hurt so you'll try your fucking best to prevent it, right?

Bruce Wayne

•Bruce has a hard time accepting the love and care of others, even if you have a long term relationship Bruce might be cold and distant towards you.

•He usually doesn't care about his scars since they're consequences of trying his best to help others, but when the time to get naked in front of you comes he's slightly worried you might get disgusted because they're too many.

•Bruce gets silent when you show him pure kind love, a gentle caress on his cheek will make him snap out.

•He'll stare at you without knowing what's the right thing to do, the only thing clear onnhis mind is that he wants this to keep going.

•Sometimes you wish you could wake up or fall asleep with Bruce beside you more often. It makes you feel forgotten. Bruce has tried to stay there when you wake up, even if that means rushing home to take off the suit, slip in the cover and pretend he's sleeping.

•Bruce can be pretty romantic when he wants to. He will take you to fancy places and bought you the most prettiest things in the world, Bruce will be comfortable in those situations, talking smoothly and secure since he's trying to put a little bit of his playboy persona into this to not ruin it.

•But silly things like cooking your favorite dessert or buying a pretty thing he saw nd know it will useful to you, will get him slightly flustered. The man is afraid he might fuck up.

•If you're a mere civilian then Bruce would be petty fucking protective of you, at the point that sometimes make you wonder if he's being paranoid.

•He will install a security system in your house and car, maybe a tracker too because you never know what criminals might do to the partner of Bruce Wayne.

I•t's hard for Bruce to express his emotions and talk about them, he feels like it makes him seem weaker. But when he opens up he will pour his heart into his words, maybe he wouldn't say much, but everything that came out from his mout he meant it with his soul.

•Your fights are horrible, it leaves you both broken and wondering if this gonna be the end. Bruce is too stubborn to back down and you don't want to be the one who goes to apologize first, so you'll end up treating each other with the cold shoulder.

•It's not the type to say "I love you" constantly, he reserves those words for important moments like when he has to go to a risky mission, your anniversary or he will blurt them out when he see you doing something adorable.

•Bruce is a mysterious man and that aspect is not going to change once they start dating. You will feel that he is hiding things from you, which is true, but it will take a lot of persuasion and confidence for him to tell you what is happening or why he does not tell you things.

•Much of his reason is that he thinks that if he doesn't say anything to you you may be safe and happy in ignorance, however, he also does not want to link his romance to his work.

•Connecting in an emotional way with Jason is hard and even when you're there he tends to close and keep a lot of things to himself.

Jason Todd

•Jason hates how being in touch with his emotions makes him more vulnerable, once they see the light there's nothing that can stop the overwhelming wave of feelings that comes to drown him.

•Once Jason becomes truly comfortable around you he will get clingy. He needs you in order to him feel alright, it's like you bring up a nice part of him he wasn't even aware of it was there.

•You're the nicest thing Jason has ever had so far and he's down to do anything to make you stay. He can stop being Red Hood and live a normal live, change his personality for one you like better, whatever you want in a man Jason can try to copy it, but please don't leave him.

•He's a really attentive and supportive boyfriend, this trait is driven by his need to prove you his total love and attention because that shows he's worthy of your love. But putting that aside, Jason truly cares about you.

•Jason is not really used to receive romantic affection so he might shy away sometimes when he becomes aware of what's going on. It's like his mind can't process that other person wants to be romantic with him.

•Jason can get really protective of you and this worsen a little bit more if you're a civilian who knows little to nothing about self defense.

•Jason is a cuddle monster, having you between his arms is soothing and lovable. He loves this little domestic things, but it's better if he's the one on top of you or hugging because he can get out of the touch easier.

•It's better to not fight with Jason, he's not going to hit you or anything, in fact he prefers to cut his own arm with a fork before landing a hand on you.

•However, he can say some mean and hurtful thigs because he wants to win the argument regardless of how bad the consequences might be.

•It might not look like it, but Jason loves to do the silly cheesy things with you.

•He will engulf you into a tight hug and then give a breathless kiss anytime he comes back from a long mission, having you to cook with him regardless if you know what you're doing just because he thought it would be cute, cuddling with you in the sofa and read a book or just watch a movie (Jason will fall asleep snuggled up to you because he feels safe)

•Jason has night terrors and he can turn pretty paranoid whe he just wake up from a nightmare, so it's better if you stand back for a moment until he calms down and realizes that nothing bad is happening.

•He keeps a gun close to him in case something happens and has night light because he can truly stand to have the whole bedroom in complete darkness, also he tends to keep you close to him when you're sleeping togheter because, even when Jason is asleep, he needs to know you're there.

Dick Grayson

•Dick is a sweet boyfriend, he's caring and charming to the point that sometimes you wonder if you're dating a prince.

•Dick's supportive of your interests and will cheer you up if he feels like you're lacking motivation. He will praise you and give you a compliment whenever he notices you did something good or when you go to tell him a good new.

•It's hard to have some alone time with him thanks to his busy schedule. Dick can't stay still, he needs to work and protect the city, because he cares about the others but also needs the action to live.

•Dick is a cheerful man, the occasions were he hits rock bottom are odd but they happen.

•And he tends to close himself to the world and drown in his own sorrows for a while. It's hard to see him like this and the worst part is that he doesn't want to ask for help until his mind is a little less darker.

•Dick is a really affective boyfriend, he will grab your head and pepper it with kisses as he says how much he loves it, also he has the habbit to put an arm around your shoulders or waist whenever you're walking together.

•Another thing he always do is pulling you back to the bed and put himself on top of you so you won't go.

•Dick would nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck and give it a kiss before going back to sleep.

•Dick is a man low-key scared of commitment, but will still idolize you.

•It's hard for him to settle down and decide for one thing, he will overthink everything and try to look at your current situation for every single angle possible, however, in his eyes you're a great person, sexy and just amazing.

•He might even twist everything and think you're already dating when nothing really has been confirmed.

•Okay so this one goes for his Titans version: I don't know why, but I feel that sometimes Dick can manipulate your needs and turn them into his own desires, to be more concrete emotional blackmail.

•He could do this unconsciously and without really wanting it, because once he realizes what he did he will feel very bad about himself, which would lead him to isolate himself from you for a while to think about everything he has done and then apologizing .

•It's hard for Dick to do so because being aware of what he has done to you, but he needs you to know he feels deeply fucking sorry and he understands if you want to broke up.

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @psych0crybaby @barnowl48 @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @caswinchester2000 @sara5208 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal21 @disnerd626 @pree-2003-blog @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato

[loser-hub]

Valentine's Day Headcannons! Is it early? Yes! Do I care? Not a bit! A part two with some Pro's is coming soon!

Warnings: A hint of spice here and there, all characters are aged up to 21+ at least!

Izuku Midoriya

Has had your date planned for a month, at least, having planned since Christmas.

Valentine's Day is the day about love, couples, expressing your feelings and spending time with your significant other. Or that's what every commercial says when the month changes, bombarding everyone with pink, red and kisses.

Izuku soaks up every moment of it like a sponge.

He's not the best at expressing his feelings, always stuttering and tripping over himself, so he relies on acts of devotion, affection of gift giving to show you how much he appreciates and loves you.

Has a notebook dedicated to the day. Countless scribbles about what you like, what you don't, what you're allergic to, and any fact that could help him plan the perfect date.

The day starts and its all about you from the get go.

Gets you clean with a bath with candles, rose petals, bath bombs, bath oils, the absolute works. Spent way too much time and money at Bath & Bodyworks picking out your favorite things in case you were low.

Nervously picks at his nails while he waits, now second guessing himself and doubting if he might've gone overboard with everything.

Invite him in and he'd be on Cloud Nine!

The rest of the day goes however you'd like, whatever you want and he's at your beck and call. Driving you around to your favorite stores to staying home and chilling out on the couch, he just wants to spend time with you and see you happy. If you're happy then he's happy!

After getting cleaned Izuku takes you up to this scenic hill outside the city that looks over a field of flowers, allergy pills at the ready! He sets down a plaid blanket and breaks out his picnic basket full of your favorite foods and drinks.

He'll keep you there until the sun sets, holding you close to his chest as you two watch the sky turn to pinks and oranges.

Bakugou Katsuki

The polar opposite of Izuku's feverish planning.

He's more of an "oh, it's V-Day? Cool, I guess" kind of guy.

Shows up at your door out of the blue, no warning, no nothing, a box of chocolates under his arm as he thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your face. "Coincidentally" your favorite kind.

"Saw it was Valentine's Day and I'd be a fucking shitty boyfriend if I didn't bring you something, I guess. Get dressed, we're going out...somewhere...wherever you want."

Drags you out and pulls you along, opening his car door for you, closing it, being the gentleman that he secretly is.

Takes you to a little café on the outskirts of town he found one evening while patrolling, it seemed really nice and cute and thought of you when he saw it. So why not take you here for a little date?

Hands stuffed in his pockets he wanders inside, glued to your side.

Although like Deku, he's not the greatest at verbal affection. Sure he can scream and yell his feelings in anger but expressing how he felt about you? That stumped him.

Bakugou also prefers acts of service and gift giving as his love language, this man cannot articulate his love for you to save his life.

So moments like these are the most endearing moments of his character.

Let's you order whatever you want and subconsciously gets the same so you both can talk about how good/bad it was and so, if you did like it, he could cook it for you at home.

Shoto Todoroki

Oh dear please help this poor boy.

He has no idea what Valentine's Day is.

You'd have to be the one to suggest doing something or surprise him with a date, because he has no idea.

Its not that he doesn't care but he's simply never put stock into the lovey dovey holiday meant for couples, love and all that.

Show up at his door for a change!

He'll be pleasantly surprised and oh-so happy to see you there, even if he's rushing out the door so Enji, Natsuo and Fuyumi don't get wind of your arrival.

You'll never be left alone if they realize your there.

He prefers to drive, he doesn't know why but being in a car with you driving to a restaurant is strangely domestic. Since it is V-Day and you've so nicely explained to him what it means and the context around the holiday, you two decide to go to a fancy upscale place for a change.

Shoto decides to go all out, taking himself and you to a dressing shop and has you pick out an outfit while he gets a black suit with a red tie.

Its not often Shoto cleans himself up but when he does, wow.

Not to worry about reservations, all he has to do is show up and break out his gold credit card and the receptionist's eyes bug out of her head. Being Endeavor's kid has its perks on occasion and the staff takes you two to a secluded booth specifically for hero's and their partners.

Lit by candlelight you two share a multiple course meal, desert and feed each other rose topped chocolates.

An overall cheesy yet romantic date that he'll never forget.

Tomura Shigaraki

He's one of the ones whose bombarded with lovey dovey shit the second January turns to February.

Every MMO RPG in his collection does a Valentine theme in some way so its impossible for him to escape all the pink and red.

Those are the worst two weeks of the year.

He drops everything and plunges himself to the most gorey and eventless games he can find to get his mind off V-Day...well, before you came along.

Now seeing the themed events makes him pause, change his mind even, reconsider if you feel so inclined.

It all came to a head once he saw matching skins. Husband and wife, partners in crime, the list was endless for the game you two played together. Yep, he was going to do something.

Going out of the hideout during a busy holiday like today was out of the question so you rightfully suspected nothing would happen, Shigaraki wasn't going to whisk you away to a secluded hill and have a picnic. He wasn't that kind of man and he might scrape off bits of skin if put in that kind of situation anyways.

Nope, instead you were scooped up off the couch and hauled to his room. Plopped right down in the other chair of your couples gaming setup.

Your headphones on, game loaded up, hand on the mouse and your boyfriend mumbling how he needed "help" for the event.

"Tch, don't read too much into it Player Two, I get more XP if I'm in a group so you're coming with me. Just be my Love Healer and I'll DPS our way through the bosses."

Needless you weren't going to ask why your character was suddenly in a frilly dress with a bouquet instead of your normal staff.

Dabi

The most casual and uninspired ass you can possibly imagine.

Days all mix and warp together for Dabi so he doesn't know what day it is until he sees an abnormal amount of couples out and about. The shameless displays of affection was nauseating.

But hey, the shopkeeps were too busy with entitled Karens to notice some of their stock had gone missing.

No one pays attention to the burnt chicken nugget holding a massive stuffed bear and a plastic bag full of sweet on today of all days, normally he has to keep to the streets and be a sneeki beeki boi but this is the one day except for Halloween that he can get away with being in public. The stuffed animal a convenient hiding place when he gets looks.

His cover is blown when the plush is pushed into your open window first. He loves hearing your scream of surprise when he sneaks in but he can't do that very well with a four foot bear on his back...maybe next year.

Gets everything set up while you're worrying over him and making sure he wasn't seen or followed. You're too cute for your own good, worrying about him over yourself and what the police would do if they found out.

Today is definitely needed, for both of you. Time alone to just chill and cuddle.

Wrapped up in blankets, drinking some shitty stolen wine, eating sweets and laughing at how stupid the main characters of the rom-com marathon are.

The morning after you find yourself alone but at least now you'll never fall asleep alone with your Dabi scented teddy bear.

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 5

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

You spent the rest of the weekend freaking out about how handsy you had been with Shouto.

Not only had you stuffed him into the hat and the sunglasses, not only had you curled tightly into his politely offered warmth, but then you’d literally held his hand the entire way to your apartment. You’d been too drunk to be self-conscious about what you’d been doing at the time, but once sober, you were embarrassed to realize you’d been clinging to him like some kind of beer-and-yakitori-filled limpet.

You kept replaying the whole walk home in your head, reviewing the absent way you’d played with his fingers, how you’d mused on how warm and large his hands were. Then he’d very obviously tried to offload you as quickly as he could at your door, insisting that you go inside when you continued to hang around him, and he’d literally pushed you inside at the end of it.

God, you could just die.

Shouto, for his part, seemed pretty unbothered by the whole thing. He texted you a couple times over the weekend, as if things were completely normal, but you still dreaded the moment that Tuesday rolled around.

How were you supposed to look him in the face after making such an obvious fool of yourself? How was he being so chill about things? Maybe he was just used to everyone in a thousand mile radius making an immediate mess of themselves for him. But still, it was embarrassing that you were one of them.

Tuesday evening did roll around, however, and soon enough you found yourself tentatively cracking open the door to his apartment. You sent up a silent prayer for him to not be home, but your hopes were immediately dashed when you caught sight of his lean form stretched out on his couch, a book in hand. His head raised when he heard the door, and a small smile curled his mouth when he caught sight of you.

Your heart thumped very deliberately in your chest as if to call attention to the fact that you were even more of a lovestruck idiot than you’d been willing to admit.

You tried to ignore your entire body and the way it felt like every fiber was waking up and bending towards him like flowers in the sun, stepping carefully through the door and closing it behind you. As you did, an appealing but unusual scent met your nose, and you glanced around in confusion. What looked suspiciously like cookware and spices littered his heretofore completely untouched countertops, and you felt an eyebrow raise. Was he...cooking?

“Something’s wrong,” you blurted immediately.

Those heterochromatic eyes snapped to your face and he leaned forward in concern. “What?”

“You’re cooking,” you said. “You’ve never cooked one single time the entire time I’ve worked here. Your countertops told me so.”

He let out a soft laugh, relaxing back into his couch. “There’s a first time for everything.”

You eyed him suspiciously. Was he okay? Had he been attacked or something? Was there such a thing as a villain with a quirk that made people cook things?

“What’s the occasion?” you asked carefully, watching him for any sign of a quirk’s influence.

He gestured you over to his living room and you went to him slowly. “I thought we’d hang out again.” He still pronounced the phrase like it sat uneasily in his mouth.

You stared at him. He wanted to hang out? “Shouto...but...my shift.”

He directed you to a chair across the coffee table from him. “I have to leave on a mission for a week tomorrow morning. I...wanted to spend time with you before I left.”

A weird mixture of concern and warmth washed over you. Okay, that was super cute, but that didn’t explain the complete absurdity of him suddenly reneging on what you strongly suspected was an unbroken streak of over two decades not cooking a single thing. Was the mission he was going on super dangerous? Did he think he wouldn’t come back from it? Was he crossing experiences off his bucket list before he went?

Your concern must have read on your face because he leaned forward, one cool hand taking yours. You almost jumped out of your skin with surprise.

“It’s not any more dangerous than my everyday work,” he said in that deep tone.

You frowned. That honestly wasn’t saying much, all things considered. His job literally involved fighting super villains.

“I just...thought it would be nice,” he said, and you thought you read a note of self-consciousness in his tone. You frowned.

What the hell did he have to be self-conscious about? He wasn’t the one who’d made a complete and utter fool of himself Friday night. You were honestly surprised he’d let you into his apartment at all, after what had happened.

But maybe...this was his way of telling you it didn’t matter? He was clearly making an effort to be nice--maybe he wanted to try again? If he really did, if that’s what this was really all about, then you could do that. And this time, you would keep your hands to yourself.

“What are you making?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Shouto leaned in conspiratorially. “Vegetables.”

You let out a shocked laugh. “No way.”

A small smirk pulled at his mouth. “I don’t know how you usually make yours, but a friend had some suggestions.”

You looked at him curiously and he pulled out his phone, clicking into a chat and sliding it across the coffee table to you.

You glanced down at the messages, one eyebrow lifting when you saw a series of really good-looking recipes featuring roasted fall vegetables, then choked on a laugh when you caught sight of the other messages interspersed between the recipe links.

Do you seriously not fucking know how to cook a vegetable, icy hot?

[Honey Roasted Carrots with Yogur…] > http://bit.ly/9iJZ5jt

Fucking useless.

[Grilled Zucchini and Feta Toasts w...] > http://bit.ly/8oKZ5jf

Here, dipshit: [Charred Vegetable Medley with Burrata…] > http://bit.ly/5oDF4fi

If you food poison her, I don’t give a shit.

Don’t text me again.

“These look really good, but, um,” you chuckled, “your secret lover seems a little displeased.”

Shouto’s mouth curled. “He’s the jealous type.”

You laughed. “And when he’s clearly the superior chef, with recipes like that. I talk a big vegetable game, but I can’t give you what he can.”

Shouto huffed a laugh. “Anger issues and insults?”

You grinned back at him, then jumped when a timer went off in the kitchen.

“Stay here,” Shouto commanded. A cool hand pressed you down into a chair, and then he was gone.

Your eyes followed him as he made his way to the kitchen, tracing over the lines of his broad shoulders. He’d chosen another soft sweater today and he looked so fucking good, so absurdly domestic as he pulled vegetables out of the oven and looked them over. It was clear he had no idea what he was doing, and that somehow made everything ten times cuter, the sight of him way too much for your poor heart to take.

He was too easy to picture as a boyfriend trying to do something sweet for his girlfriend, and your teeth ached with the thought of it. You wondered if this was how he was going to treat his lover, when he eventually got one for real. That girl was going to be so damn lucky, she had no idea.

Shouto wandered back over with plates loaded with vegetables, two wine glasses, and a bottle of something dark and red.

You eyed the bottle carefully. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t get handsy this time, and it was hard enough to keep your cool around him when you were sober. You didn’t know if you trusted yourself with a glass or two of wine in you.

“Uh, this looks really good,” you said, examining your plate for a distraction. It looked like Shouto had made every single one of the recipes Bakugou had sent him, and they honestly didn’t look too bad.

Shouto adopted a carefully blank look, like he was trying not to look too pleased. “We’ll see if that impression lasts. This is the first time any of my kitchenware has seen action.”

You laughed. “I trust you. Besides, I’m not hard to impress. In freshman year I once ate nothing but instant ramen for six weeks straight.”

He smirked and moved to pour the wine. You opened your mouth to stop him, lest you drink too much and get a little too hands on again, but you froze when you caught sight of the flowers at the center of his coffee table. The bouquet from Friday stared back at you.

Heat flared in your cheeks when you realized he’d kept it. The flowers definitely were not nice enough to fit in with the rest of his modern apartment, and the edges of the petals were looking a little more obviously wilted now, but he’d kept them. He’d found a vase and put them in water and set them out on his coffee table, and that was so embarrassing and so, so cute.

Shouto caught you looking. “I really did mean that I liked them,” he said evenly.

“I’ll get you something nicer,” you suddenly blurted, eyes still locked on the bouquet. “When you come back from your mission. If you come back safe.”

He looked at you curiously, eyes fixing on you unblinkingly. “You sound concerned.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. I--” have the world’s fattest crush on you “--care about you.”

Shouto’s eyes darkened and he considered you for a long moment. “I care about you, too,” he admitted quietly.

You put a hand to your face to make sure it wasn’t actually on fire, and you leaned forward to help yourself to the wine so you didn’t have to look at him. Fuck it. You would just have to watch your hands extra carefully.

“So, uh, where’s the mission?” you asked hurriedly, suddenly desperate to move the conversation along. You needed to put a ton of words in between Shouto and what you’d just admitted, give him as little opportunity as possible to think in any more depth about what you’d said. It was cute that he’d returned the sentiment, but he did not mean it in the same way you did.

Shouto gave a vague answer, looking apologetic that he couldn’t share more, and your gut twisted at the idea that he’d be somewhere far away for over a week while you had no idea where he was. He looked uncomfortable with the idea as well, and you immediately steered the conversation back to more positive waters, starting up a stream of compliments over the vegetables that had turned out actually pretty good, especially for his first time cooking anything.

You had to stifle a laugh at how hard Shouto tried not to look smug.

As they always did, the hours slipped away easily with hardly any sign of their passing, and before you realized, it was well past when your shift was supposed to have ended. You and Shouto had talked yourselves almost all the way to midnight.

“I’ll help clean up before I go,” you announced, standing up and bringing plates into Shouto’s kitchen. He followed you closely, warm at your back.

“Let me,” he said quietly and you looked up at him, smiling.

“I literally came here to clean and then didn’t do shit,” you informed him. “Besides, you can’t clean up. You have to supervise to ensure the safety of your countertops, remember?”

He smirked. “How could I forget?”

You grinned and turned back to the sink, powering through all the dishes and stowing the leftovers away in tupperware. Shouto watched you hawkishly as you wiped down the counters, and you laughed.

“You can’t protect them from me while you’re gone,” you intoned, turning to him. “You might as well say your farewells now.”

His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping the counter.

“I seem to recall bribery works quite well,” he said, his voice dipping lower. Your skin prickled at the sound. “What would you have me offer this time?”

You stared up at him, fighting down a shiver. He must not have realized how close he’d stepped, but he was near enough that you could feel the heat of him and smell that cologne again, that clean scent that made your head spin. After a couple of glasses of wine, you were helpless to fight the way your eyes were drawn to his mouth. Every nerve ending in your body snapped to attention.

You leaned forward, feeling dazed. Then you froze when you realized what you were doing. Jesus Christ, you needed to be arrested.

“Uh, consider the vegetables payment enough,” you said quickly, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Shouto watched you for a long moment with a strange little smile playing about his mouth, then stepped back, letting you go. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief while simultaneously mourning the loss of his proximity.

He turned and grabbed up the extra food to press into your hands, then called an agency car for you as he always did, and walked you down to the lobby of his building.

“Please stay safe,” you said to him as you lingered in the doorway, hating the way your voice sounded a little desperate.

He smiled, and before you knew what was happening, his arms went around you, pulling you into his chest. He was so warm and broad and hard with lean muscle, and he smelled so, so good. You couldn’t suppress your full body shiver.

“I’ll stay safe,” he said into your hair. “If you keep my countertops safe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh into his sweater. “It’s a deal.”

He kept you pressed to him for a few moments more, and you tried to be subtle about the lungfuls of air you were taking, the way you were memorizing the feel of him to replay over and over in your brain for the literal rest of your life. Eventually, one of the security officers coughed, and you jumped back, shame-faced.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Shouto promised.

You smiled. “See you in a week.”

Then you turned and walked to the car. You could feel a pair of eyes hot on your back, following you until the car pulled away and turned out into the night.

The rest of the week passed fairly uneventfully. You ate, slept, wrote a paper, and clocked in to your usual Thursday shift at Shouto’s apartment, trying not to feel too disappointed at how empty it felt without him there. He hadn’t told you much, but you had gathered that his assignment had taken him outside of the country, and this meant that you hadn’t received any texts from him in days.

You tried to keep yourself distracted all through the weekend, getting a leg up on all the finals work that was starting to pile up, putting in a ton of hours at the fancy coffee shop with your laptop and several americanos that were (to your fond exasperation) still completely paid for.

It was only when Monday rolled around that something went completely and utterly wrong, and not in any way that you would have ever expected.

When you walked into lecture that morning, you immediately felt like you were being watched. A quick check in your periphery confirmed that a couple groups of students were casting subtle glances in your direction, and excited whispers began to pick up around you. You quickly ran a hand over your face to see if you’d accidentally gotten toothpaste on yourself, and glanced down at your clothes to make sure no coffee had spilled.

Nothing came to your attention, so you settled into your seat, wondering.

Lecture passed slowly, and as the minutes ticked by, you felt more and more pairs of eyes fix themselves on you. When class ended, you watched in bemusement as everyone turned to watch you leave, and you launched yourself out of the room as fast as you could, heartbeat picking up.

What the hell was wrong with people?

Almost as soon as you’d managed to duck out of the building, your phone rang with an unknown number. You stared at it blankly, considering hanging up, but a feeling of foreboding pressed down on you with a sudden urgency. What if something had happened to Shouto?

“Y/N,” a woman on the other end of the line said briskly, as soon as you picked up. “This is Shouto’s manager.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, but before you could gasp out a question, she was talking to you urgently. “I need you to head home as quickly as possible, and don’t talk to anyone on your way.”

“What?” you asked wildly. “Is everything okay? Is Shouto hurt?”

“Shouto’s fine,” she said, then paused. “You haven’t seen the news, then.”

“No?” you frowned. A pair of passing girls stopped short when they caught sight of you, and your sense of confusion magnified twofold.

“You’ve been outed as Shouto’s secret lover,” his manager sighed.

Your heart stopped. What?

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“Someone got a couple shots of you on your date the other week, and a few more in the lobby of his building,” she explained. “That, and you match the description of the woman the villain took from his apartment when he’d claimed to take Shouto’s lover hostage. News outlets will be tracking you down any minute.”

You glanced up, only to find the entire walkway of students frozen, watching you. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned on your heel, picking up into a brisk jog towards your apartment.

“It wasn’t a date though!” you hissed into the phone, anxiety washing over you. “It’s not--they can’t think that Shouto would--with me--!”

Shouto’s manager made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Whether you are or aren’t, it certainly looks like you are,” she paused for a long time, then added somewhat hesitantly, “And as soon as you get home, I need you to delete your twitter account.”

Your limbs iced over. Oh fucking hell--she’d found your twitter account? You launched yourself into a faster run, tearing down the city blocks towards your apartment.

“Oh my god, how did you--? When did--? I am so dead if anyone finds that,” you puffed as you ran, “Has anyone else found it yet or just you?”

“Not yet. It will take the media a few hours to track down all of your information but, having reviewed the contents myself, I think it’s safe to say you’ll want it removed.”

You cringed. You didn’t know how she’d found it, but you hated to think of Shouto finding out exactly what was on there. You hoped she kept things to herself.

“I’ll delete it,” you promised as you rounded the corner into your neighborhood, ignoring the stitch that was making itself known in your side. You needed to hit the gym more. “But what do I do about the secret lover thing? They can’t think that Shouto would actually date me.”

“You do nothing,” she commanded, a pit formed in your gut. “We’ll ignore it, and eventually they will lose interest.”

Your stomach churned. It had already been months since the kidnapping and they clearly hadn’t lost interest yet. You hated to think of Shouto trapped in an even more vicious cycle of gossip all because you couldn’t keep your damn hands to yourself. God, what the hell had you gotten him into?

“That’s not fair to him,” you said, slowing to a walk when you saw a crowd of people lingering around your apartment. You picked up several cameras, and your insides twisted nervously when you realized what was going on. They’d already found your apartment.

“Shouto’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” his manager explained, but you heard her only dimly, as if through water. A plan was suddenly forming in the back of your mind as you considered the crowds milling outside of your apartment. “We’ll come up with a plan later, and--”

“No,” you said, biting your lip nervously. “I think I--I think I know what I can do. I’ll just tell everyone the truth and then they’ll leave him alone.”

"Absolutely not," Shouto's manager said, sounding weirdly like your mom just before she was about to ground you. "You have no experience with the media, they will eat you alive."

You considered this. "But what harm is there in just telling the truth? It's not like you have to have experience for that."

"No," she said, like that would settle things. But you just watched the swarm of people, the feeling getting stronger. You'd gotten kidnapped, you'd suggested the izakaya, you'd held his hand. Shouto was in this situation because of you, whether you were to blame or not. You had to fix things.

“Y/N,” his manager called from the other end of the line, but you weren’t listening. You quickly ended the call, then logged into twitter, clicking into settings and immediately hitting delete on your account. You would not survive if the entire world found out just how thirsty you were for the man you were about to set the record straight on. You ran a quick hand through your hair, making sure that you didn’t look completely embarrassing, and straightened out your clothes.

Then, squaring your shoulders, you walked up to your building.

Immediately, you were swarmed with cameras, all manner of microphones ramming you in the chin and elbows.

“Y/N,” a woman shouted, her eyes bright with excitement, “How does it feel to be Shouto Todoroki’s secret lover? Why did you hide your relationship for so long?”

You’d anticipated the question, but you still couldn’t help the way you stared at her. “Um, I’m not sure if I’m qualified to answer that. We’re not, um--it’s not like that.”

Wow it was hard to talk in front of a camera. Your face heated.

She seemed to ignore you. “Why have the two of you been spotted together on multiple occasions, holding hands and hugging? You seem fairly close to me.”

You cringed. “T-that’s my fault. I drank a little too much and Shouto was helping me home. The hug was just between friends.”

“Todoroki took you home when you were drunk? Did anything happen?”

You gawped. “No, of course not! What are you--? Are you kidding me?”

“A man takes a woman home late at night, and you insist nothing happened?”

Your temper flared. You didn’t like the things she was insinuating about Shouto, and it was already embarrassing enough that nothing had actually happened. He all but thrown you inside to get away from you.

“No,” you said acidly, “It’s not like that for him. Shouto doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“And yet he was holding your hand?” the woman prompted.

Was this a fucking jury trial? Why the hell did she have so many questions? The words bubbled up out of your throat before you could stop them.

“No, I told you it’s not like that! Shouto has zero feelings for me and he was just being nice. If you want a story, you’re going to have to look elsewhere because there is no way on earth Shouto Todoroki would so much as glance in my direction, and he shouldn’t be put on trial for things that a drunk friend did. If Shouto has a secret lover, then that’s news to me too.”

The woman paused, then a grin spread across her face. “You say Todoroki has no feelings for you, but I notice you’ve not made the same claim. Could this instead be a case of unrequited love? Tell me, do you have feelings for a certain pro hero?”

It was a testament to how overwhelmed you were feeling, how much your brain was spinning, how unequipped you had come to lie, how completely and utterly stupid it was for you to have done this in the first place that the words that came out of your mouth next were not “no,” were not “are you kidding,” were not anything that gave you the safety of plausible deniability.

Instead, you opened your mouth, and in a move that would make you cringe until the literal day you died, you said: “Uh--wouldn’t you?”

[boldlyanxious]

Tenuous Trust

Jasonette July prompts 6: trust

References to Birds of Prey

Mentions of torture and murder

Canon-typical and not graphic

Possibly still disturbing

This is absolutely not what I was writing when I started. The idea was very different but it is what happened so it's what I offer

Not a typical meet cute Monday

My masterlist

Red Hood rushed down the hall away from the confrontation in the lobby. He had planned to sneak in and disrupt the meeting but that was no longer necessary. Things were going bad all on their own. Sionis was trying to find new contacts to deal with but recent interruptions in his business made an already turbulent arrangement turn volatile. Hood kept on down the hall looking for any other things he could tamper with in case they resolved their differences without guns.

He saw a woman step out of one of the former offices before the warehouse had been abandoned. He wasn’t sure who she was but she had been seen with Sionis or Zsasz a few times, but she usually never left their side so she would likely have information about their operation. He moved over to her quickly and pushed her back into the room, possibly more roughly than was necessary but for this it was likely better if she was a bit on edge.

She looked startled at him pushing her around but her eyes dropped down when she realized who he was. She said nothing. She waited for instructions, flinching a little when he reached out for her again.

“You are coming with me. Do you have anything of yours here that you need?”

She shook her head instead of responding, still looking down.

“Quickly out that window and hold on tight.”

She didn’t move. Well, she did but it was to back away and look around for an escape route. He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her a little to get her walking. Shouts were starting to echo down the hall. He expected bullets would be heard next.

“You are going to have to trust me. You have no reason to, but it is your only option.”

He pushed her until she had to either climb out the window or pull out of his grip. The decision became easier for her when the first gun fired followed immediately by several others. She climbed out the window and he followed. She was holding on to the side, looking very nervous about the possibility of a 3 story fall but he pulled her to him when he cleared the window.

Red Hood swung away from the building and landed on a low roof. He pulled her behind him, holding her hand to force her to keep up. They crossed several other roofs and he never saw anyone else nearby so he circled back around and found a vehicle to use. She was hesitating again when it came time for her to get in the car. She didn’t want to go back but she was not very thrilled about going with him.

“I meant what I said. You have to trust me. You have no other choice.”

She stared at him for one more moment before climbing into the car and putting on a seatbelt. They were silent as they drove through Gotham. He could feel the nervousness rolling off her but there was very little he could do about it. He did the one thing he could think of to ease her mind when he pulled off the road and into the drive thru at a Bat burger. It was a little thing. He was hungry. She probably was too, and it was an easy way for her to be more certain he wasn’t planning to just kill her.

He took her to his personal safehouse rather than the base. He didn’t want her spooked by the militia or all the guns and activity. Very few actually knew where the safehouse was. He didn't trust many to know where he slept, but he had a feeling that she could be trusted with the information.

He set the food at the table inside and the scene felt very domestic as they sat across from each other at his small table. It was better light in here so he was able to get a good look at her as she finished her food. She ate slowly and made no sudden movements. Her entire persona was meek, but it felt forced. He finished before her and pushed his back against the chair back as he stretched himself out. He stood and threw his paper wrappers in the trash and pulled out 2 beers from the fridge, offering one to her.

“So who are you?” he asked. “You don’t really seem like a career criminal.”

“I'm not, or I wasn't."

"Very vague explanation."

"I had dreams and plans before. I had a business and had just gotten an incredible contract. I went out with friends to celebrate.”

Red Hood kept watching and waited for her to finish but that seemed to be all of the story he was going to get out of her without more questions.

“How did that lead you to working for Sionis?”

“My friends and I didn’t know the area well. I had just moved here. But we found club Roman listed and that is where we went.”

“That is a well known cover for his business.”

“That is more clear to me now, but I didn’t know it at the time. It was purported to have a great singer and a dance show. That part was true.”

“Gonna need more of how you got involved with Sionis, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said vehemently.

He was taken aback and raised his hands in a surrender motion. She appeared to be working on calming her breathing, eyes wide in terror. But she took a deep breath and continued.

“My friends and I all piled into an uber to get home. We checked the driver and everything was correct. He was very polite and dropped them off first. My place was only a little further away but I never made it home. He was working for Sionis and brought me to see him. He told me I worked for him now. He wanted my new contract as a way to do his business and work against the other company.”

“How long ago was this?”

“I signed the Wayne contract in March.”

“And you have been working for him since?”

“I guess so. I don’t really think of it that way though.”

“You don't think of it that way? Is there a more eloquent way to say you are working for a mob boss?”

"You know a lot about his organization. You are familiar with Mr Zsasz?" Hood nodded without interrupting her. "He is covered in scars. It's very off putting before you know the reason. Then it is horrifying. He kills people, and for each person he kills he makes a mark."

"So you did what they said or he would kill you?"

"I tried to resist or escape at first. But Mr Zsasz had driven my friends home. He didn't only threaten me." She took a shaky breath. "Nor was I the only person they tried to convince to work with Black Mask. There was another man, he was brought in with his wife and daughter. They made me watch--"

Hood followed her out of the room when she suddenly stopped talking and bolted out of the room. He stood by the bathroom door for several minutes until she finished and then ran the water for several minutes cleaning herself up. When she came back out he offered a water. He said he didn't have ginger ale or crackers but he could make toast. She shook her head but took the water from him. Then she continued telling her story.

"The threats were always there. Usually they would just smack me around a bit if I didn't want to do something or possibly if they were bored. They would threaten my friends or tell me they had given up trying to find me." She wiped away tears. "If I gave in too quickly after a beating Mr Zsasz would show me his scars. He has a spot picked out for me. Once told me he wanted me to fight them because he wanted to fill my spot. He dragged me up by my hair and made me kiss it."

"He did what?" Red Hood could barely contain his anger. The whole story was making him irrationally angry.

"It wasn't about me, or anything like that. He wasn't interested in anything but torment and he was very good at that. He did it for the bit if blood that transferred from my bloody lip to the spot. He says he couldn't wait for his own blood to show in my spot." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she added. "He always called me Sweetheart because I didn't like it and he refused to use my name. Everyone did. I wasn't even a person to them."

"What is your name?"

"Marinette," she said quietly.

"Marinette, you are safe now. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Last time I tried to escape he said there was nowhere to run. He would find me no matter what and make his mark."

He paused for a moment, thinking. He knew the best option but he didn't really want to use it. But it was the best option for Marinette.

"I can't protect you." Her face fell at that. "What I mean is I'm dismantling the entire organization. I can't keep you safe but I know of people who can. Do you trust me?"

"You said I have to trust you."

"But you would actually have to rely on the trust for this. You would have to trust that you will be safe with the people I take you to."

"It doesn't seem like there is another option."

"Getting you out of town with a new identity could work. But you may always be on the run. This life you have would never be yours again."

"Okay. I will trust you."

They left after that. He took her across many rooftops and around town. He seemed to be waiting for something but Marinette didn't know what until someone else landed. It was Batman, a known enemy of Red Hood and Black Mask. Marinette really hoped there wasn't going to be a fight.

"Took you long enough, old man."

"It was clear you were trying to draw me out. I wasn't going to jump into a trap."

"You are known for holding back, whether the situation calls for it or not. I'm proposing a temporary truce."

"How temporary is this truce?"

"One hour."

"That is very temporary. You clearly need me out of your plans right now. That sounds like the worst time for me to agree to a truce."

"I'm not making any moves. I need help or she does." He stood aside so Batman could see Marinette. "She was taken by Black Mask after securing a contract with Wayne Enterprises. Your connection to Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises is well known."

He watched Bruce under the mask. His Batman mask slipped off his facial features while the cowl stayed firm. He knew Bruce was looking at his helmet and seeing Jason. He thought he was finally reaching the boy and Red Hood had no interest in correcting the misconception now. He would still complete his plan.

Black Mask had just become a higher priority and surprisingly he wanted to keep Marinette safe. He also had plans for Zsasz. He wanted to take him out personally. He shocked himself by reaching up to Marinette's chin and tilting it. She looked up at him as if he could tell their eyes were meeting even thought he had his helmet on. His thumb brushed against her jaw briefly before he dropped his hand.

"Keep her safe," he said without looking back at Batman. He couldn't stand to see Bruce looking at Jason again right now. He flipped off the roof and away before anyone else says anything but he crept back to a higher vantage point to watch as Batman took Marinette with him. She would be fine now.

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@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[asthmark]

❝ stuck ❞ l.dh

request → “Hi~ I'm absolutely in love with your work. It makes me so soft uwu. I was wondering if you could write a Haechan one similar to the roommate Jeno one you wrote. About what it's like to just live with him” —@demiwizardstay​

pairing → demon!haechan, reader, guardianangel!mark

word count → 4.5k

a/n → whoops i made this into a demon!haechan au hahaha sorry i hope this is domestic enough for u tho :D

your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

there’s no other reasonable explanation. 

on the other hand, the shadow splayed out ever so comfortably on your couch seems to be very real. it must be just as aware of your presence as you are of its but to your surprise, it isn’t telling you to put your hands where it can see them or demanding to know where all your most valuable items are. it sits there, peacefully as if it owns the place. for a split second you consider the possibility that you walked into the wrong apartment but the key in your hand reminds you that the situation you are in is not your fault in any way. 

“so... are you gonna scream or just stand there?”

the figure’s voice is unmistakably masculine and drips with sass. you know you should feel scared. your heart should be pounding as your shaky fingers dial 911 and you hysterically report an intruder to the authorities and beg them to come fast. however, it seems that this stranger’s calm aura has rubbed off on you as you respond with an equally as unbothered tone.

“well, i would appreciate it if you invited me in.” you pause. “oh wait, it’s my apartment.”

with that, you step inside and go about your regular routine with a calmness you didn’t know you possessed; especially when there was an… unwelcome visitor lounging on your sofa. despite that, you kick off your shoes and toss your jacket somewhere on the floor like you normally would. you twirl your keys around your fingers as you go to turn to flick on the light switch. it rids you of the darkness that had settled upon your apartment and the stranger is completely revealed to you.

the first thing you notice about them is their sun kissed skin that’s littered in the freckles you would compare to the most captivating constellation. although, the stranger’s flawless complexion is the least of your worries considering the two horns that peek out from underneath their tufts of brunette hair. 

you physically restrain yourself from asking for his skin routine and instead opt for yet another sarcastic comment. “all ready for halloween, i see.” your eyes lock onto the appendages, choosing to ignore how realistic they were. “was party city having a sale?”

your comment seems to get your uninvited guest out of his daze as he scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“hey, this is my place, i ask the questions,” you scold.

he ignores you, instead going to tug on his horns. “these are all real, baby.”

you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him, waiting for him burst into laughter and tell you it was all a prank. instead, his unfaltering smug gaze pierces into you. you swear you stop breathing when his eyes flash bright red for a second.

“alright, you can tell the camera crew to come on out.” you glance around hoping this really was just some sort of hidden camera–practical joke type of thing. you half expect ashton kutcher jump out and tell you that you had gotten punk'd but you’re never granted that privilege. your eyes end up back on the boy lounging on your sofa and he returns the stare, eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a smirk.

it was almost… devilish. 

“oh my god.”

“not quite.” he finally stands, stretching his limbs out without a care in the world. “wanna try again?”

you stay silent, mouth slightly agape. there was only one other explanation. 

he’s satan. and he’s also in your living room. and the worst part was how undeniably hot he is.

you regret giving him the satisfaction of your stunned silence as it seems like that was the exact reaction he wanted. he laughs at your expression and it just sounds evil. 

“alright, alright. i’ll tell you what i am. but only because you mortals are always so cute when you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared, you idiot,” you interject without a second thought. “i just didn’t know i’d be selling my soul today. it’s a total bummer. i’m so young, i still have so much to do. i never even got around to trying yoga with ryujin!”

the boy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “your soul? did i say i wanted your soul?”

“well, you’re like, satan right? isn’t that what you do?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m obviously a demon. satan is a loser who never leaves his fiery throne. which, by the way, isn’t as cool as it sounds. we’re not on the best terms at the moment.”

“so... you don’t want my soul?”

he shakes his head vigorously, looking disgusted at the mere idea of it. “what would i even do with it?”

“i don’t know. honestly i’m just going off of what i see in the movies.”

“that was your first mistake, baby.” he makes his way closer to you. “this isn’t the movies.”

“okay, back it up,” you say, attempting to put some distance between you and him.

he raises his hands in defeat as he obeys, retreating back to your couch. 

“why are you here of all places? shouldn’t you be sipping on a piña colada with satan right now?”

he crosses his legs nonchalantly. “like i said, we aren’t on speaking terms. in fact, i’m kind of… banned.”

“banned?” you echo. “from where?”

“hell? duh.” 

you scowl at his attitude. “it’s not my fault you’re on timeout.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “don’t call it that. it’s just a punishment.”

“same thing,” you say, making your way into the kitchen. you weren’t sure if leaving a demon unattended in your living room was the best idea but the initial shock had already worn off. besides, it seemed like he had been in your apartment for a while already. “what did you do anyway?”

“it’s not even that bad,” he grumbles.

“must have been if you got kicked out of hell.” you chuckle to yourself as you open up your pantry, looking for something to stuff your face with. “do you understand how bad you must be if even the devil himself can’t stand you?” 

“i’m not bad, per se,” he says, picking at his nails. “just a little annoying.”

“no kidding,” you grumble to yourself, rummaging through your pantry, in pursuit of your favorite snack. you were sure everything would make more sense once you got some food in your system. when all you find is an empty, crumpled bag where your chips had once been, you whine loudly. “did you eat all my hot cheetos?”

“they reminded me of home!”

“i can see why they kicked you out,” you retort. 

“listen, i get that this is an inconvenience—”

“that’s kind of an understatement.”

“but, this is the only place i can stay. turns out people freak out when you appear in their living rooms. you were the only one that didn’t.”

“yeah, people usually don’t take too kindly to that—hold on, did you say stay?”

he crosses his arms over his chest. “where else am i supposed to go?”

“anywhere but here.”

he gives you an unamused stare, his eyes glinting red once again. 

“i mean, don’t you have any demon friends you can stay with?”

“not here. we avoid earth at all costs. it’s trashy. that’s why this is a punishment.” 

not even you can argue with that. “understandable. well, how long are you gonna be here?” 

“don’t know.” 

you blink at him. “so… you’re planning to crash with me until satan decides to be your friend again?” 

he groans. “first of all, he’s never been my friend. second of all, yes, that was the plan i had in mind when i broke into your house.” 

“broke in?” 

“well, actually i used teleportation powered by the dark arts to get in but i don’t think your tiny human brain is ready for that conversation.” 

“and i don’t think it’d be in your best interest to insult the person you’re currently trying to move in with.” 

that seems to shut him up, as he purses his lips together and stares at you blankly. 

“listen, if we’re going to do this, there’s gotta be some ground rules, okay?” 

he stays silent so you decide to continue. 

“you have to pull your own weight around here. you might be some powerful being of the underworld but that doesn’t mean you get out of laundry day and doing dishes, got it?” 

he seems displeased, if the frustrated huff of air he lets out is anything to go by. 

“and you have to promise me that by staying here you aren’t putting me in any kind of danger.” 

“well, i can’t guarantee i won’t cause problems,” he says, raking his fingers through the hair in between his sharpened horns. “but i can protect you from whatever crap comes our way.” 

you contemplate it. you weren’t entirely sure what a demon like him was capable of but it seemed like it would be a list that was equally lengthy as it was impressive. yet, you still can’t bring yourself to agree to anything. 

as if he senses your apprehensive nature, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his hazelnut eyes. you only get to admire the warm tint for a split second before his eyes flash red yet again. they stay glowing longer than any of the previous times; long enough for you to notice how shiny and bright they are, reminding you of ripe cherries. 

“i promise.” 

the tone of his voice is surprisingly firm and definitely the most serious you’ve heard him the entire night. he retreats his hand from you and you find yourself leaning forward, almost craving his touch. his eyes go back to their original hue and you feel yourself regain your senses. 

“what did you just do?” you ask, leaning back from him. “what kind of dark magic was that?”

he tries to conceal his smile but ultimately fails, his pearly whites coming onto display. “that wasn’t magic, baby. i believe you just got lost in my eyes but don’t worry. i would too.” 

you let out a bitter laugh. “oh my god, you’re vain.” 

“do you mortals have to mention him every five seconds?” he chides, grimacing. 

it takes you a moment to realize who he’s referring to but when you do, you erupt in laughter. “really? that gets to you? you’re pretty sensitive for a big and bad demon.” 

“i have a name, baby.” 

“so do i.” 

his lips curve into a coy smile. “donghyuck.” 

you give him your name in response, not even bothering to think about it twice, much to your surprise. most would probably be more hesitant to introduce themself to a demon, much less invite them into their home. 

yet here you were, doing both. 

he offers you nothing more than a grin—it seemed more genuine than the last—before turning on his heel to make his way farther into your apartment. “so, where will i be sleeping? i was thinking your bed would be ideal.”

“well, i was thinking you could start with a thank you,” you suggest, trailing after him. 

he saunters down the hallway, twisting the knob of the door second to the left and peeking in. you can only imagine how much snooping around he had done before you had arrived, judging by the fact that he maneuvered your home so expertly. 

he hums as he scans the room as if it’s the first time (which you’re sure it’s not). “it looks comfortable enough for the two of us.” 

you can tell there’s no arguing with him, especially as he steps inside and sits himself on the edge of your bed, hands running over the soft fabric of your comforter. he bounces up and down a couple times, seeming satisfied enough with the mattress. 

in the blink of an eye, he’s underneath the heaps of blankets, tucked in snuggly. 

you exhale, trying to maintain patience. “i can tell this whole dark magic thing is going to be a problem for me.”

even though only his eyes peek out from beneath the polyester sheets, you’re positive he’s wearing an obnoxious smirk. his voice comes out slightly muffled when he answers, “think of it as a blessing, not a curse.”

“we’ll see.” you try to suppress a yawn but it manages to escape you, eyes squinting and your hand clamping over your mouth. “right now, i gotta sleep. hopefully i’ll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream.”

“so, what you’re implying is that i’m a dream?”

“i meant to say nightmare.”

“that’s more accurate.”

as if the dazed tone of his voice didn’t give his sleepiness away, donghyuck’s drowsy eyes and horns sinking into the soft plush of your pillow certainly did. he looked the least threatening right then and there and you decide that this is the donghyuck you like best. you can’t help the sudden urge you feel to curl up in bed right next to him and doze off into blissful unconsciousness. 

“what are you waiting for? get in here.”

could demons read minds too? you can’t be bothered to think about it for another second before you take donghyuck’s very tempting offer and crawl into your bed. you don’t care that you’re not in your pajamas or that you smell like coffee beans, courtesy of the cafe you worked at.

all you can seem to focus on is the feeling of donghyuck’s soft breath against your neck and his oddly cute snores. it was ironic; a demon all cuddled up beside you, sleeping like a baby. you almost giggle at the striking comparison. 

needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

+

“you know, it really pisses me off to come home and see you sitting in the exact same position you were in when i left.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, an expression he’s mastered over time. “what else am i supposed to do? you made it pretty clear that you hate my demonic rituals and that’s kind of my speciality.”

you shrug as you kick your shoes off upon entering your shared apartment. “i don’t know. but binging the entire marvel movie saga can’t possibly be healthy.”

“we don’t have this in hell!” donghyuck exclaims, gesturing to the television his eyes remained glued on. 

“well, you should get used to life on earth considering you don’t know how long you’re gonna be stuck here.”

“i’m already on it. pop culture is actually really informative.”

“not what i meant. i was thinking more along the lines of a job.”

donghyuck finally tears his eyes away from the television to give you an unamused stare. “that’s really funny, y/n.”

“i’m serious! would it kill you to get off the sofa?”

“no. nothing would. i’m immortal, remember?”

you narrow your eyes. “oh yeah, almost forgot. you’re gonna be a bother to me forever and ever.”

“this isn’t the ideal situation for me either. but no need to torture me with low life mortal tasks.”

“bills gotta be paid, it’s a part of life,” you respond, taking a seat beside him. “or else we’ll both be breaking into people’s houses and begging them to move in.”

“i didn’t beg, alright? and i didn’t break in either! i simply...  appeared.”

“that’s even worse.”

“you didn’t seem to mind when you were all snuggled into me this morning.”

donghyuck’s words paired with his taunting tone cause you to feel slightly warm but you ignore it for the sake of a comeback. “you seemed comfortable yourself because when my alarm for work went off your arm was pretty tight around me.”

you swear you see him pout for a moment. “that’s not my fault! there aren’t many people open to cuddling in hell! i was just… seizing the opportunity.”

“since you’re all about opportunities, you should really look into that job. remember what we agreed on? no slacking off.”

“i’m not! just look in the kitchen!”

you know whatever it is, you’re not prepared for it. nevertheless, you tiptoe to said area, hoping your roommate had simply followed instructions and done the dishes and swept. but, of course, that itself is too much to ask as you watch the sink overflow with suds, plates and silverware scrubbing themselves clean and floating into their respective cupboards. a broom dances across the tiled floor, dust flying everywhere. you find that the mess in your kitchen resembles a train wreck; you want to look away but you just can’t. 

you call out to donghyuck, eyes still trained on the chaos before you, asking, “what did we say about rituals?”

“it’s a little more complicated than a ritual, baby!”

once you finally gather enough willpower to walk away from the kitchen and whatever is happening in it, you return to the living room, placing yourself in front of the television that donghyuck is so entranced in. 

“you’re coming with me to work tomorrow, got it?”

donghyuck groans for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically hard. “fine. now, can you move? the avengers are about to fight thanos.”

you comply, retreating to your bedroom but not before shouting back, “iron man dies!”

you shut your door, donghyuck’s frustrated screeching still coming through loud and clear.

+

your phone alerts you that it’s 6 am by playing an alarm so loud donghyuck falls out of bed. comically enough, it’s the loud thump! that comes when donghyuck makes contact with the floor that really gets your eyes to flutter open. you peek over the edge of the bed, every bit of grogginess leaving your body the second you see your roommate tangled in your sheets, limbs sprawled on the ground. 

“are you okay?” you ask, laughter lacing your words.

“doing just fine,” he mumbles in response. soon thereafter, his eyes shut once again.

“hey! no way are you going back to sleep, we have work!” 

you drag yourself out of bed over to where donghyuck lays, attempting to resume his peaceful slumber. you grab his arms, attempting to hoist him up. you’re almost positive he’s making it more difficult than it should be as he lets his body go completely limp in your grasp. when you finally get him standing upright, he smiles lazily at you, obviously still half asleep. 

“c’mon dork, you need to get ready. you’re gonna make some cash today!”

+

donghyuck makes it clear he understands nothing as the morning progresses.

he doesn’t get the importance of being on time or even working in the first place. he offers to just take out your landlord, which according to him will “solve all your problems”, more times than you count and you’re sure that if he mentions it one more time you’d actually consider it. he also claims he doesn’t understand the concept of a shower, asking you to help him out, yet the knowing smile on his face lets you know he’s more than well aware of what it entails. unfortunately, you realize this after spending more time than you’d care to admit explaining the concept of getting naked to him in a tight, confined space to him only for him to request a demonstration. 

upon leaving your apartment, more new things are revealed to donghyuck. you can’t help but admire the wonder and awe in his eyes. the adoration quickly wears off when he throws a temper tantrum at the subway station, refusing to board it and you have to physically force him on and promise that no, he won’t get trapped inside.

despite the slight bumps in the road, you arrive at your shift with time to spare. the clock tells you that you won’t have to be behind the counter for another five minutes so you grab your apron and provide donghyuck with one too. you give him quite possibly the quickest tour of the cafe ever and explain to him over five times what you were there to do (“so, we just take people’s orders? we serve them?” “and they pay for it.” “just when i thought it couldn’t possibly get dumber”). you end putting him on cleaning duty since you were well aware of his lack of social skills. he frowns when you tell him he has to do it himself, no magic allowed. the last thing you needed was someone getting nearly knocked over by a levitating broom and bringing it to your manager’s attention. speaking of—

“good morning, y/n,” greets doyoung. his hair is slicked back and his eyes shine, as always. “always a pleasure to see you on your shift.”

donghyuck watches you cautiously, observing the way you smile nervously and avoid meeting doyoung’s eyes. he assumes he has some kind of authority over you. 

“and hello there. who might you be?”

doyoung is now very aware of donghyuck’s presence, giving him a wide smile but a menacing stare. you don’t get a word out before donghyuck’s giving him a polite smile and nod of his head.

“i was just hired, y/n is showing me the ins and outs. i honestly could not be happier working under leaders like you, sir.”

doyoung hums, obviously enjoying donghyuck’s praise enough to let it blind him from the fact that you hadn’t even been hiring in the first place. “sir, huh? haven’t heard that one before.” 

donghyuck holds his breath, wondering if he had overdone it.

“i like it. you seem like a hard working fellow. glad to have you on the team.” your boss gives him a firm pat on the back before walking away, probably to go scare some other employees. 

donghyuck sticks his tongue out at him once his back is turned and you simply laugh, smile still present on your face when your first customer arrives.

+

“i’m here!”

you glance up from the cash register to catch your coworker rushing in, looking frazzled… as always.

“hey mark,” you greet, giving him a welcoming smile. “i’m so glad you’re here. there’s been this crazy demand for frappuccinos all day and you know i suck at those.”

mark chuckles as he ties on his apron. “no offense, but the only order you should be taking are the puppuccinos.”

you shoot him the most non-threatening glare possible which ends up with you bursting into a fit of laughter. “i’m not even gonna argue with that.”

“hypothetically, if i made doyoung’s coffee explode on him but made sure he didn’t know, would you be mad?”

you roll your eyes at donghyuck’s bold entrance yet you still giggle. “at this point, i say go for it. ooh, maybe we could even sneak out while he’s cleaning it up. what do you say, mark?”

where there would usually be a giddy laugh, there’s nothing but silence on your coworkers behalf. you put a pause on counting the money in the register to steal a glance at mark who’s eyes are dead set on donghyuck who also seems to be intensely focused on the blonde. 

“demon,” mark mutters.

you feel yourself freeze up; how could he possibly know? despite the panic that settles upon you, you’re sure donghyuck will find a way to handle the situation. you expect a lie, maybe even some magic if the situation called for it. when you see his lips curve upwards sinisterly, you know you’re in for an entirely different outcome.

“angel.” there’s a teasing lilt in donghyuck’s voice; it sends chills up your spine.

mark’s jaw is clenched and you know he’s equally as tense as you are. “we should go, y/n.”

“mark, he’s just—”

“now.”

the sudden desperation yet dominance in mark’s tone is even more alarming than donghyuck’s. 

“you know,” donghyuck begins, rounding the counter, dramatically. “i’ve never been a fan of the way guardian angels think they own their person.”

you swear your brain shuts down. there was no way you had come into contact with a demon and now an angel—your guardian angel. and there was definitely no way it was your closest coworker, right?

“it’s our responsibility—she is my responsibility.”

donghyuck folds his arms as he gives mark a once over. “you won’t mind if i take over, right?”

mark chuckles, begrudgingly. “you know i can’t let that happen.”

“i’m not hurting her, i’d never hurt her.” donghyuck takes his place next to you, wrapping an arm around you. he peers down at you, eyes glowing red for the first time since your first encounter. “my angel.”

you know the nickname is to piss mark off and you assume it works as you observe his hands clench into fists. although, you’re more focused on how the pet name effortlessly rolled off donghyuck’s tongue, like temptation itself. 

“don’t make this difficult for yourself,” donghyuck continues. “you know feelings are dangerous. that’s what they tell you when you first sign up. just don’t let that get you into trouble, got it?”

the tension is suffocating and you almost wish a customer would enter the currently empty cafe to save you from it. although, donghyuck makes sure that you don’t have to endure it any longer as a second later, you’re both gone, only a cloud of red smoke left behind. 

mark stands alone in the cafe.

he had gotten this job for you; to look after you. 

perhaps he had caught feelings, as well.

he assumes that was his first mistake. 

+

when donghyuck takes you back to your apartment, it seems the awkward atmosphere from the cafe has followed you home.  

“uh, can i ask what that was all about?”

“that guy, mark was it? yeah, he’s your guardian angel. i can’t stand it when those guys act like they’re in charge of the person they’re sent to look after,” he seethes. 

you watch donghyuck’s fit of frustration carefully, eyes wide. when he sees how confused you are he can’t help but sigh. 

“i’m sorry, i just… didn’t appreciate him acting like you were his. guess i don’t really like the thought of that.”

you would have to be oblivious beyond compare to not realize donghyuck was completely and utterly jealous. you prod him further, asking, “well, then who would you rather i belong to?”

he glances up at you. “whoever you want, baby.”

“you know what? i think i have somebody in mind.”

not even a second later, donghyuck takes you back in the security of your bed, under your piles of fluffy blankets. what feels most comfortable (and strangely familiar) is the feeling of donghyuck’s arm clinging to you, making you sure you’re pressed right into his chest like a puzzle piece. 

“the person you had in mind was me, right? ’cause if not, this might be awkward.”

your eyes roll back despite knowing he can’t see it. “no, it was mark.”

“not funny.”

your shoulders shake with laughter. “it’s a little funny.”

“whatever, keep laughing. just let me hold you, alright?”

“that would be heaven.” silence settles upon the both of you as you go into nearly hysterical laughter. “get it? because you’re a demon… from hell… and that’s like, the opposite—”

“yeah, i get it, baby.” he pauses. “how many more lame jokes surrounding me being a demon will i have to endure?”

“i definitely have more where that came from so my guess is...  more than you can count.”

he moans in displeasure. “you’re lucky you’re cute… for a mortal.”

[nossbean]

Exchange recs 🥳🥳🥳

I haven’t read too many of the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange gifts this year and still have to leave comments but I wanted to rec a few from the marvellous things I’ve read!

dream deep heavy sleeper (dream light heavy heart) [book canon] this fic is so goddamn soft. The author tagged it as unlikely post-LSH fic and I am wilfully closing my eyes to that and choosing to believe in the softness! A 5+1 fic where Brienne deliriously wakes on the Quiet Isle, doubtful of the feeling that Jaime was with her, only to wake another night, non-deliriously, and discover it wasn’t just a dream. This is a quiet, contemplative, sweet fic, with such a tender touch for Brienne and leaning into the romance of the pairing whilst (I assert!) cleaving to a core of reality for them. There are such lush descriptions of their shared space in their little cottage: the soft light and the physical closeness. I loved it a lot, it’s been added to my list of comfort reads! (4k, T)

Where I Cannot Stand [AU] a Firefly fusion, aka a thoroughly fun adventure-romance space western, though I admit my favourite part by far is the Jaime voice...! This is a really warm and very funny Jaime, more settled than he often is, surrounded by a found family he’s carefully built, and then Brienne turns up transporting a mystery! Noble, stubborn, kinda idealistic, and a terrible liar with excellent musculature? How can he resist?? Another element I adore is the cast of characters: Jon, Satin, Oberyn, Ellaria and Jeyne Westerling. Jaime loves them all and they love him back, and again Brienne as the newcomer is warmly welcomed and in amongst the plot shenanigans is a very cute crew-tries-their-hand-at-matchmaking thread with, um, mixed (if adorable and funny) success. Even if you haven’t seen Firefly, the worldbuilding is accessible and clear. It’s a pacey romp which left me smiling! (12.5k, T)

Yours are the Sweetest [book canon] another post-LSH fic! I am... so into this author’s prose. To call it sparse is totally incorrect, but it’s got a stripped down quality to it which works beautifully for the story and accentuates both POVs in ways I really loved sunking into. In this story, Brienne must trade Sansa to LSH for the lives of Jaime, Pod and Hyle. An intriguing premise to start, which the author plays out so damn well. There are also a few questions left unanswered, which was a bold choice that works really well and is (maybe paradoxically?) very satisfying to read! Ahhh I’m fretting I’m not managing to convey what I want with this rec but I also feel it’s a fic that’s best just -- experienced…! It’s lingered in the back of my brain like a song since I read it. (8k, E)

Declarations of the Everyday Type [AU] This one is just... super adorable! Fluff to the max, a delightful soulmark AU whereby one soulmate can write on themselves and their soulmate then sees correspondingly on their own skin. An established, wonderfully domestic Jaime and Brienne utilize in the most them way possible (which is to say: very enthusiastic, a little wry, a little practical, and very sweet) There’s also very fun baking involved and very fun soccer rounding things out. The author conveys established part of their established relationship deftly, and the whole fic feels so comfortable and lived in. Short, sweet, marvellous, and another I’m looking forward to returning to for comfort reading! (1k, T)

False Knights on the Road [book canon] and another post-LSH (Really such spoils this year…!) that I enjoyed immensely! The author captured a lot of the book tone and characterization all whilst painting a portrait of Brienne and Jaime collecting wayward children on their journey and honestlyyyy I could not get enough of it. That said, it isn’t exactly a fluffy fic for all there are fluffy moment: it deals with the fallout of LSH between JB in ways which ring (and indeed, the author’s Jaime voice caught so many of book!Jaime’s ticks, I’d have been wondering GRRM but for certain stunning turns of phrase which George could never, with due respect) as well as picking up themes around war, per AFFC. I particularly love how Jaime and Brienne’s relationship unfolded throughout: carefully and slowly, and the themes the author explores for them were pitch perfect and made me ache in the best, bittersweet way. I’ve been thinking about the JB themes (honesty and acceptance and, of course, love and what it looks like for JB) and what the author does with them since I finished it several days ago. Rounding things out: the children…! The dynamics between everyone is so well drawn and interesting and frequently very sweet. I could have read another 25k very cheerfully (25k, T)

Queens of Love and Beauty [AU] this fic is fun and pacey and so swiftly immersive! When Jaime steps in at the last minute for a photo shoot, he’s brought into Brienne’s photo boutique. Delightful setting with lovely characterization and lovelier themes around asserting oneself for oneself. Also there’s a fab through-line about corsets which was very fun and I made audible noises when it played out because it was so satisfying! The author has a light touch mingled with great descriptions of clothes, and lovely character notes and beats. And the romantic tension between JB is very, very cute and wonderfully played. (6000 words exactly which is also very pleasing, T)

[songtoyou]

Tempting Fate - Part Thirteen

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 3,019

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone. Miss Young arrives in Small Heath looking for her soulmate and meets the Shelby clan along. At first, Tommy distrusts the newly hired barmaid but soon finds himself drawn to her and can't understand why.

Chapter Summary: Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt. 

A/N: Some sweet moments in this chapter, but of course, we always have to have drama. Thank you all for the amazing support this story has gotten. I only hope you all continue to enjoy reading it. Please continue to let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars  @lovemissyhoneybee​

The following day, you woke up before everyone else to sneak down into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You looked around the kitchen to see what Ada had on hand, which was not much. Thankfully, there were ingredients to make pancakes. You sorted out the correct measurements and put them in a mixing bowl. It was not long until you could hear another pair of footsteps. You turned to see Ada walking in the kitchen. She still looked half asleep as she sat down at the table. You chuckled when she groaned and put her head on the table.

“Coffee or tea?” you asked her.

“I need another hour or two to sleep,” she replied and got up to get the kettle ready. She opened one of the cupboards and got out a frying pan for you to cook the pancakes in. “I’m surprised my brother is not up yet. Normally, Tommy is up at the crack of dawn.”

You stifled a laugh. Yes, you and Tommy had stayed up later than intended after Ada showed you both to one of the guest rooms. Hopefully, your late-night antics with Tommy went unheard by Ada, or heaven forbid, little Karl. You told Tommy that they needed to keep quiet and not disturb his sister and nephew, but the man was adamant that he needed you and didn’t care who heard. 

Ada made you both a cup of coffee and went to retrieve the morning paper. As you continued to cook, she got Karl out of bed to eat breakfast. The three of you sat at the kitchen table eating and conversing with one another. You asked Karl about his school, and he told you about his favorite subjects. “I would have loved to have gone to a real school,” you shared with mother and son.

“You didn’t go to school?” Karl asked, confused, with a mouthful of pancakes.

“Karl, don’t talk with your mouthful,” Ada scolded her son.

“Sorry, mum.”

“No,” you answered him sadly. “My family moved around too much to go to school. My mom taught us how to read and write since she was the one in the family who went to school. But, it still would have been fun to go.”

“I would hate not being able to go to school,” spoke Karl, and you merely smiled at him.

You turned to Ada when she said your name. “How about we leave around eleven to go clothes shopping?” she suggested. “And Karl, speaking of school, you need to go upstairs and get ready. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, Mum.” Karl took one last bite of his pancake and got up to go back upstairs.

He passed his Uncle Tommy on the way, who ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo,��� Tommy greeted his nephew.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Karl stated and headed to his room to get cleaned up and dressed.

Tommy slowly walked into the kitchen, where he caught sight of you and Ada laughing hysterically. “What are you two laughing about?” Tommy questioned, startling you and Ada.

“Jesus, Tommy!” you yelled, jumping in your seat. “I swear, he makes no noise when he walks.

I need to get him a bell,” you told Ada.

“He’s always been able to do that ever since we were kids. It was always how Tommy won hide and seek or tag. Never could find him or catch him.”

“You want some coffee, Tommy? I made pancakes for breakfast. I’ll make you a plate,” you told Tommy, getting up from the table. First, you kissed Tommy on the lips, which he reciprocated, and sat down next to Ada.

“Morning, big brother. I take you slept well,” teased Ada as she sipped the last of her coffee.

“Yes, I did, sister dear,” Tommy countered with a smirk and grabbed the newspaper from Ada. “The bed was comfy. Slept like a baby.”

“Yeah, I bet. Lots of commotion going on in there last night,” Ada mumbled into the teacup.

You turned to Tommy with a horrified look while he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “I better go check on Karl, make sure he is getting ready and not playing around. He gets distracted so easily, just like his father.” Ada got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Tommy alone.

“I told you we needed to be quiet,” you cautioned him.

Tommy only scoffed and continued to look through the newspaper. “Technically, this is my house. I can do what I want in it.”

“Eat your breakfast, dear,” you ordered and placed a plate of pancakes in front of him. He ate while you made him a cup of coffee and cleaned up. Again, the domesticity between the two of you came naturally. “Ada said she would take me shopping at eleven. Did you want to come along?”

“While I would love to watch you get undressed, I have other appointments today. Plus, I need to get the items you requested.”

Tommy figured he could get the molasses from Alfie Solomons. He had a meeting with the Jewish gangster where they needed to finalize their business transactions. Tommy figured a couple of liters of molasses was an easy task. Tommy was, after all, providing Alfie with soldiers to help him win the war with Sabini. Either way, he was getting you the molasses. He would always make you got what you needed.

You turned to leave the kitchen but stopped when Tommy grabbed your hand. He dragged you back to him so you could sit on his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Tommy nuzzled your neck. You leaned into him when he began kissing along your neck and ear. His hands began to trail up your legs and thighs.

However, you stopped him when he got to your underwear. “Tommy, we can’t. Your sister and nephew are upstairs. We need to behave. Plus, we should get ready ourselves.”

You got up from Tommy’s lap, and you swear you caught the man pouting. He gulped the last of his coffee, which was now lukewarm, and got up from the table.

He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed you on the lips this time. “Get yourself something spectacular for tonight. I’m taking my girl for a night out on the town.”

“Should I even bother with wearing anything underneath?”

“Surprise me,” Tommy responded and went in for another kiss. Before either of you could deepen the kiss, you could hear Ada and Karl coming down the stairs. You broke apart first and tried to compose yourself.

Tommy left for the living area to retrieve his cigarettes.

“All set for school?” you asked Karl. He looked cute in his school uniform.

“Ready. Here you go.” Karl surprised you with a piece of candy.

“What is this?” you wondered, confused.

“It’s ginger candy. I take when my tummy is upset,” Karl explained. “I figured you could use it since Mum said that the moaning coming from your room was you having an upset stomach.”

You felt your face heat up and must have turned five different shades of ready. “Well, thank you, sweetheart. That is very kind of you.”

Ada did her best to hold back her laughter and ushered her son out the door. You waved goodbye Karl and closed the front door.

“That’s it!” you shouted throughout the house, “We are going to a hotel!”

You never knew shopping for clothes could be so tiring. You were ready for a nap, and it wasn’t even two o’clock yet. Ada made you try everything, and half of the clothes you didn’t even end up buying. You honestly thought shopping for clothes would be a breeze since you didn’t feel you needed much.

Ada finally allowed for a break around three o’clock and took you for afternoon tea. “Ada, do I really need all of these clothes?”

“Of course you do. Tommy told me to go all out for you. And if Tommy wants to spoil you, then by golly, let the man spoil you,” Ada waved off your concerns. “You have to wear the dark green dress tonight. It looks stunning on you.”

You blushed and looked down at your plate of tea sandwiches. “I’m not used to this, having someone buy things for me, especially when money seems to be no object. I’ve told Tommy that I’m not with him for his money. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“I would never think,” Ada began, “Aunt Polly told me about you. She told me that you were special and important to Tommy. I don’t know if you know this, but Aunt Polly has the gift of second sight. She sees things in her dreams. She must have seen you and Tommy in one of them. Saw that you were good for him. After last night and this morning, I can see it too. When Tommy is with you, it is almost like I have my brother back. Tommy wasn’t the same after he came home from the war. None of my brothers were, but the change was more noticeable in Tommy.”

You contemplated what Ada was sharing with you. Often, you wondered what Tommy was like before the war. However, you opted not to ask Polly, and you weren’t going to ask Ada. None of it would make any difference or change the way you felt about Tommy. Yes, he changed, but everyone who came back from the war was different. You experienced it with your family members. Tommy was Tommy, and he was the man you adored, possibly could end up loving one day.

You took a sip of your tea, raspberry flavor. It was pleasant on your throat. “I think with someone like Tommy,” you began to speak, and Ada perked up to listen, “I get the sense that he was a sensitive child. He is the type of person to do right by people. That Tommy didn’t like seeing people get mistreated. It is, sadly, what he experienced growing up. You know, like us gypsies, our community continues to be looked down on. I can tell Tommy has mixed feelings about the way he grew up. He wanted more. After the war and seeing so much death; that made him reevaluate his priorities. Tommy wants more for the Shelby name. He wants the name to mean something, have some sense of importance. And it isn’t just for him, but all of you.”

Ada sighed. She agreed with what you were saying; however, she still had reservations about how Tommy went about getting the things he wanted. “He’s going to get himself killed one day, I fear.”

Truthfully, that scared you too, but you had to tell yourself that Tommy would always make his way home; back to you safe and sound. “Tommy,” you spoke, “always thinks ahead. He is very good at strategizing. That is what will keep him alive.” 

“I hope you are right,” said Ada sadly.

You hoped so as well.

After tea, Ada tried to get you to stop by one more clothing store, but you told her that you had more than enough clothes. At the last stop, you made sure to get a dress for Esme and a pair of fine leather gloves for Polly. You were done with clothes shopping. However, there was something you wanted to get, not for you, but for Arthur. While Ada continued to pursue the clothes on the racks, you told her you were heading out to another store, one that sold art supplies.

“Ada, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something from across the street,” you told her and left.

When you made it to the art store, you began to look at all of the supplies. You were unsure where to start. Arthur shared with you that he liked to draw, particularly horses before he went off to war. It was one of his favorite hobbies, but he hadn’t picked up a pencil in a long while. You wanted to get him a set of drawing pencils and paper in hopes of getting him back in the habit. If Arthur got back to drawing, it would help him have a positive outlet, rather than drinking or fighting the pain away.

You asked the store clerk which drawing set was best. He tried to get you to pick the most expensive one that included way too many items. Instead, you opted for the twenty-piece pencil drawing set with a wooden case and sketchbook. The pencil kit included graphite and charcoal pencils, ink pens, and shading tools that Arthur could put to good use.

You spent the remainder of the money Tommy gave you on the drawing set and asked the store clerk to wrap it up. When you finished, you walked back to the clothing store where Ada was still perusing the racks. You looked in the bag of the wrapped drawing set and hoped Arthur would like his gift.

“Ada, I think we should be getting back to the house. It is almost five o’clock,” you reminded her.

“Oh shit! Yes, let’s get going. I didn’t realize the time.” Ada, albeit reluctantly, stepped away from the racks of clothes and picked up her bags, and followed you out onto the streets.

A taxi took you both back to the house, but first, Ada had the driver pick up Karl from the home of one of his friends. Greeting you both, Karl sat in between his mum and you. He pulled out a drawing from his knapsack and showed it to you.

“That’s me, Mum, Uncle Tommy, and you,” Karl pointed out. It was the four of you in front of a house with a bright yellow sun in the sky. It was adorable.

“This is lovely, Karl,” you beamed at the young boy.

“I drew it for you to take back to Birmingham. Mum already has many pictures I made for her.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said and kissed him on the top of his head. “I will cherish this. I’ll tell you what, you sign your name at the bottom, and I’ll frame it. That way, when you become a famous artist, I’ll have the first-ever masterpiece by Karl Thorne.”

That made the young boy beam with pride. Ada smiled at the interaction with you and her son.  It proved that she needed to head back to Small Heath more, especially for Karl. He deserved to have his extended family in his life.

When the driver pulled up in front of the house, Ada paid him and helped Karl out of the car. You both retrieved your shopping bags and walked up the steps.

Once inside, you plopped on the couch and took off your shoes. You wiggled your toes to get the blood circulating. Tommy mentioned earlier that he would be back by seven and for you to be ready.

It was already coming up on a quarter to six. You were exhausted, though, so you let yourself take a small fifteen-minute cat nap on the couch. The next you felt was someone shaking you away. You opened your eyes to see Ada standing above you.

“It is almost seven, and you aren’t dressed yet.”

“Shit,” you bolted up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t believe I overslept.”

You grabbed your bags and ran upstairs to the guest room. You proceeded to undress and clean yourself up. Luckily, one of the windows in the bedroom looked out onto the streets. You kept looking outside to see if Tommy pulled up. You probably spent more time checking to see if Tommy arrived than getting ready. The last time you checked, it already twenty minutes past seven o’clock. By a quarter to eight, your stopped getting prepared to go out. You weren’t disappointed, just now worried about where Tommy was and if he was okay. You washed your face free of makeup, put your hair up in a tight bun, and grabbed your robe before heading downstairs.

You saw Karl and Ada at the small dining table, eating dinner. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Ada questioned.

“He isn’t coming,” you told her and poured yourself a whiskey. You gulped it down and poured another one. You took a seat across from Karl and sipped your drink. “I’m too tired anyway. I’ll tell Tommy that we can go out another night.”

Ada gave you a small smile and got up to get you a plate of food. The three of them sat in comfortable silence while eating. You mostly pushed your food around the plate, listening for the sound of someone entering the front door. When dinner was finished, you tried to help Ada with the dishes. “Nonsense, you made breakfast and did the dishes then. It is my turn.”

Karl got your attention by calling your name. “Yes, sweetheart?” you asked him.

“Can I read to you? My teacher says it is important to practice reading out loud.”

“You should be heading to bed, Karl. It is late,” Ada piped in.

“Come on, Mum. Just one story, please,” Karl begged and put on the cutest puppy dog face. Ada could not resist.

“Fine, but only one book, and then it is up to bed. Got it.”

Karl grabbed your hand and dragged you to the living area. You looked at the clock on the wall, and it read nine o’clock. You tried to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach and concentrated on Karl reading a story to you.

You felt yourself being lulled to sleep by the young child’s voice. Just as Karl finished reading, you drifted off to sleep.

Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt.

[solomonish]

Naamah’s “Match-Up” That I Made Needlessly Complicated!

IT TOOK ME A WHILE BUT I DID GO CRAZY AND STUPID

hewwo @baalism I made u......less of a match up and more just headcanons on how u date the people. i hope u like it <3 I divided them into tiers depending on how well I think they mesh w you too!! so here you go!

TOP TIER (NOT kissing up 2 u!)

SATAN

I think Satan is your #1 man because the two of you just seem to be.....kindred spirits. (I am calling you the same as Satan but like as a compliment?) Y’all got that academia vibe to you with your books and your museum dates and your air of mystery. You two are the hot nerd squad is what i’m saying

Plus Satan is a social butterfly! He’d not only like the quieter moments w you but also when you went dancing he could either be living it up with you or making new connections (although. if he was going to the club why would he stray from the main attraction? make it make sense)

And with him that trust would be super easy to get bc if you’re dating him, HOO BOY. He’s got some Issues but he trusts you to help him get through them! There is a lot of him that feels prickly and dangerous and if you don’t shy away from that and can help him through it then you have his heart! As long as you aren’t ripping his attention away from a thrilling chapter, he’s a great conversation partner too. His quiet nature at first is NOT shyness, it allows him to be observant!! You are one of the few who get the chatty inside ^u^

Plus he loves ur cat and will be on her side when she screws with your puzzles.

SOLOMON

THE ONLY REASON he is not number one is he’s a bit too much of a wallflower to be into the partying like Satan would be. Otherwise....hot nerd squad two electric boogaloo

Is a bit more down with the witchy outdoorsy stuff and the occult and the abandoned place exploration thing than Satan would be. I bet one of his favorite things to do is take u to an abandoned building and after being there for a while when you start to get bored, he enchants it to look like the inside of some old castle and you dance together or something :) memories for u

isn’t always super chatty but is great for listening to you rant. he makes up for his lack of chattiness by asking the perfect questions to get you fired up again, so your ranting takes up most of the time. loves to pick ur brain, so you can talk about anything. he’s like: i want to dissect that smart lil organ of yours. lovingly <3

keep your sudoku puzzles up or he will mistake your books for his and do them for you. the image of him sitting cross legged at an armchair like some grandpa is nice but those are your puzzles!!!! but he’s very good at being domestic, just make sure to ALWAYS cook or bake with him!

LUCIFER

Listen, I hc Lucifer as like kind of a wallflower, but even if i’m wrong, he’ll still not be partying with you a lot because he’s busy! of course doesn’t stop you from going out if you want just be safe pls he lovs u

will take a walk with you every day all the time. After dinner before he goes back to work, he’ll take a little stroll with you. when he has time he’ll go for longer ones and show you some off-beat or decrepit devildom areas but he will absolutely just go on little walks with you every day to catch up with you!!

lives for the domestic moments. you bring him coffee? he is glad to be yours! walks in on you doing laundry? how luck he is to have someone so capable <3 he’ll help you fold the rest of the load or will make sure to talk with you while it’s his turn to make dinner (but will make sure you don’t have to help! you deserve a break)

finds your interest in the arcane kinda funny because he IS the arcane but supports you <3 will listen to you list off what you know even if he also knows because he likes hearing what you’ve learned and you get so excited about it! he will return with his own spells and potions you might not know yet and you two could go on for hours about it.

HIGH-MID TIER

ASMODEUS

His interests align with your! Fashion, beauty, partying!! He loves it. LIVES for it. you two are an unstoppable force.

However....the academic/witchy stuff doesn’t suit him as well as the other stuff does? He’ll whine about you “being a satan” or “being a solomon” if you tread too far in one direction

he’ll work out with you though and buy you cute workout gear <3

a relationship with him is less emphasizing trust and more about intimacy (but you can still trust him yknow?) he makes your connection known by demonstrating it plainly rather than feeling like a safehouse, if that make sense? but he does love u to pieces!! remember that

BEELZEBUB

he wants to eat ur cupcakes this is my main reasoning and also NOT a dirty joke

if he goes partying w you he acts more as a personal bouncer and will circle the crowd like a shark for u <3 also great to bring you home if you’re drunk

he likes taking walks and hiking and being active with you! he does have to slow down so he doesn’t overexert your human body but he doesn’t mind because he’s having fun!

v sweet with the domestic stuff, just not great at cleaning. he just leaves crumbs over the floor he just cleaned :/ thinks u look cute in an apron tho

DIAVOLO

AHHHHH he thinks ur so interesting! so well rounded :0

also it’s good that you’re into witchy stuff! that made your transition to the devildom a bit easier huh?

absolutely loves how eager you are to learn because that’s what you need for the program to succeed! and you already know so much.....you would make.....a very knowledgeable..ruler....of the Devildom.....ahem.....

the above are used to physical affection but could back it up with some mistakes but Diavolo doesn’t get the chance to give affection so whatever ur comfortable with getting he will channel it all in to that!! gifts or words or whatever!!!

but if u give him a lil smooch he will be !!!!!!!! it just feels nice

AN ANOMALY

BARBATOS

I don’t understand this fucker (affectionate). IDK if I can’t place him bc I don’t know him that well or just because he refuses to be categorized but! he is here. perfectly in the middle. taunting me.

idk ur academic prowess is preferable because he wants someone who can keep up with him. and ur interest in spooky stuff works well bc he’s a demon and if he were a human he’d like the occult too.

can’t really go clubbing or take you very many places bc of work :/ he can do strolls around the garden though! or walk you home from places :)

good with the not initiating physical touch because he can shapeshift into whatever you need him to be. an anomaly indeed.

LOW-MID TIER

SIMEON

he respects you :)

finds your academic pursuits inspring! your interest in the occult is a bit off-putting at first but you all are in hell so who is he to blame?

loves to collect your witchy stuff with you <3 knows a lot about safe to eat fruits so he’ll be collecting things for a fresh strawberry pie while you collect what you need to summon lucifer without a pact even though he lives in ur house and you HAVE a pact. 

you can bake the pie together though <3

BELPHEGOR

he does not respect you :)

finds your occult pursuits inspiring! your interest in excelling in academics is a bit off-putting at first - why would you choose to put more work in when you can jsut vibe and pass bc you’re an exchange student?

(ok i’m done making this the inverse of the above lol)

not the most chatty or the most workout-y or patying-y or anything BUT he can be a little domestic. you do the cleaning and he can cook once in a while! and he’ll make the bed! and then he’ll sleep in it immediately. but he’ll be wishing you were cuddling with him the whole time <3

LOW TIER

MAMMON

he’s got the energy but not the respect

unlike the way belphie disrespects you, mammon does it just bc you’re incompatible :/ but like in the nicest way possible

he interrupts when he’s chatty and he’s not the type to hang out with nerds and like. he’s too scared to get into the occult and abandoned buildings.

he does love you to bits! just....not in the way you want. sorry mams :/

LEVIATHAN

he can get chatty for sure!!

but he just does not have the energy to match your academic pursuits or your outdoorsy interests or clubbing or beauty or any of that. 

ok MAYBE the enrd stuff but like only a little! too much and that’d make him a normie >:(

y’all trust each other a lot tho! just as henry and lord of shadow, like friends. not a significant others

OKAY i didn’t burn myself out!! i hope you like this and agree maybe? hehe this was fun

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop      (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon​ gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

[emjs-good-out-here]

9, 10 and 14 for Kitty from the character development list?

9. What do they think about commitment? Is a long-term partnership the goal? Are they thinking about building a life with their partner, or are they focused on the present?

Hmm. Those are very different questions for her, to some extent. Traditionally, she's been a bit of a commitmentphobe, but it's also pretty rare for her to develop genuine feelings for people and even rarer for those feelings to be reciprocated, so it's really less a case of "I don't do commitment" and more a case of "with the right person, that's maybe something I'd like to explore".

As for whether she's looking for something long-term? That's a complicated question. She very much doesn't believe she'll live for a long time, so she thinks it's futile to put too much planning into her future. And even if she was to avoid the fate she anticipates for herself, well, she's technically immortal and her current partner isn't. So that adds a whole other level of complication into the mix. But, that's not a no! Cos, you see, (and spoilers for question 11, but) the thing about Kitty Briars is that all she's ever wanted it to be loved and accepted. She adores when people talk about their future and include her in it. So, as much as she's basically just living in the moment, she'd maybe really like if that moment went on for a long while. Just a little bit.

10. What scares them about entering a relationship?

Oh, just about everything? The possibility of getting her partner hurt, the possibility of hurting her partner. The possibility of her partner hurting her, the possibility of someone she cares for not being who they seem again and history repeating itself. The possibility that she opens up too much and when the person she loves gets to know the real her, they don't like what they see. The possibility that it actually all goes well and she gets attached and experiences happiness for like five goddamn minutes but it just ultimately doesn't work out for whatever reason and she has to go back to being alone, but knowing now what she could have had. The possibility of being set on fire again,

11. What makes them feel loved? Would they build up the courage to ask for it?

Like. Ok. She likes compliments and physical affection, and she's not afraid to ask for those in most situations.

But what really makes her feel loved is just like? Things that make her feel wanted? Like. Domesticity, including her in plans, giving her cute little petnames that are just for her, even just outright reassuring her that she's not an imposition and her company is wanted. She's very affection starved, she's easily pleased.

[btsandvmin]

Vmin “Everyday life”

Ok, so I might just be speaking out of some weird paranoia here, but I wanted to talk about it. If I’m wrong I’ll just keep this as a reminder that my mind likes to play tricks on me. So fair warning, this whole post might just be me over analyzing things.

Thing is that recently we have heard a lot about BTS showing their everyday life, most prominently in “BTS In the Soop” and in the upcoming “Break the silence” movie. Now the reason I bring this up is because of Vmin’s reactions to some of these things.

Of course, to begin with it seems we can at least look forward to quite a lot of Vmin in the Soop. Similar to Bon Voyage they seem to spend quite a lot of time together when they can. They also seem to end up sharing a house/room/bed? Though we still don’t know 100% it seems likely.

It also seems likely the time Vmin played games together on Tae’s account was from In the Soop. Which I guess makes it another time when Vmin don’t share private time, but rather shows something people will see through their schedules.

In this selca from In the Soop it seems Vmin might have been awake at night listening to music and just enjoying time together. Not sure we will get to see this specific moment, but again, most likely they shared a room and maybe even bed.

And not to be that person, but EVERY time BTS has been allowed to choose their roommate since the episode in Canada where Vmin accidentally ended up together (aka the first time we saw them share on camera since 2016), Vmin has shared a room. So if they do it now as well, let’s just say they seem to prefer to share if they can.

Anyways, my point here is that the slogan for the show is “Somewhere between everyday life and vacation.” meaning we get to see BTS as close to comfortably themselves as possible.

The song Vmin recommended in combination with their selca “Bruno Major - Nothing” also fits the theme very well. Just them being together, not really doing anything.

Track suits and red wine Movies for two We'll take off our phones And we'll turn off our shoes We'll play Nintendo Though I always lose 'Cause you'll watch the TV While I'm watching you

But there's nothing Like doing nothing With you Dumb conversations We lose track of time Have I told you lately I'm grateful you're mine?

Especially if we can add the red wine part to the playing games.

Anyways, the show will likely give us some more domestic and sweet Vmin, but what really got me thinking wasn’t In the Soop. Because we know how Vmin usually are during Bon Voyage and this is quite similar. No, what got me thinking we might get to see more of Vmin together just enjoying their free time together is from a few of the recent Dynamite interviews, specifically when they have gotten questions about the movie “Break the silence”.

I have seen all the gifs, but not many seem to talk about the context and timing of what Vmin is doing. This again could just be me over thinking it, but I wanted to at least get the question out there. Because I think we might get to see Vmin together more from now on... Hopefully.

BTS talks Dynamite with Liam McEwan | Radio Disney

In this interview we get a question of what we can expect to see on screen for Break the Silence. (A question they likely had on their list of questions to get asked, because a lot of interviews brought it up.) The point is that as they get the question Vmin whisper something to each other.

And then Jimin does this as Jin explains they will show how they enjoy their free time while on tour.

I mean, maybe we won’t get to see anything, but it’s interesting with the timing of what Vmin is doing and the question/explanation. 

It’s a very cute moment and Vmin have truly shown us why they usually don’t sit together. But again, this focus on “a glimpse into their day to day lives”.

But just this wouldn’t be enough to really think something might be up, after all Jimin is clingy all the time… But it’s not just this.

BTS Talks Life in Quarantine, VMAs Performance, and More

In this interview, once again they are asked about the movie, and Tae is the one to answer. Not only is what he says interesting in itself, but again, Jimin is touching him. So, there will definitely be some genuine stories never told before...

Please Jimin, tell us, what is Tae hiding in his heart? What genuine stories are BTS going to share with us?

And I don’t know why people aren’t talking more about this next one.

BTS talks Dynamite, life in quarantine & the future of their music...

So here they get asked about life in quarantine and how they spend their time now when they have more of it. And Tae does something here I haven’t seem him do in a long time, but that reminds me so much of the old shameless Tae.

He asks Jimin specifically, what he is doing during his free time, and not only that... They are holding hands. Because of course they are. But I only see people talk about them holding hands, not when they were holding hands and what they were talking about.

Now, remember this was about their free time… And Suga and JK talked about playing the guitar etc. Jimin takes his time to answer, and when he does it is kind of a non answer and still work related.

Then the attention shifts to Suga but Vmin keep holding hands.

I just found it interesting that Tae specifically asked Jimin, and I still don’t understand why they held hands. Especially as they kept doing it, unlike most times when it’s just a hand shake or similar for a moment. It wasn’t brief because they kept doing it for at least a minute.

People also talk about Tae’s expression, and though I know he has a stern looking neutral face it also wouldn’t surprise me if he is a bit disappointed with Jimin’s answer for some reason. I think Tae wanted something from Jimin here, but Jimin avoided it.

There are some other small reactions to the questions about the movie in other interviews as well, but these three are the ones I feel really make we wonder what we might get. Because they keep talking about “some real revelations” for the movie as well... I still expect it to be similar to the other documentaries we have got, so I don’t know how much new things we will really learn. 

But it does seem as since last year Vmin has been more open in general, which is a great thing that we get to keep seeing more and more. After Friends and Bon Voyage 4 and everything since I don’t know if there is new heights to reach, but I just wanted to talk about this a little as I couldn’t help but notice their behavior. Basically I think we might get more Vmin in Break the Silence.

These moments might be nothing at all, and it’s still just a few examples and Vmin also sit next to each other, so maybe it’s just because they happened to sit together or something. I’ll try to keep expectations low, but I still find Vmin’s reactions interesting. So I guess we’ll see.

I hope you had fun reading. :) Let’s look forward to some more Vmin! <3

EDIT: So Break the silence didn’t have anything at all, so maybe their reactions was just completely unrelated to the movie. Either way I guess we will see if we will keep getting more moments of Vmin as time goes.

[welllpthisishappening]

But Once a Year (3/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

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Rating: T Word Count: 9K and change, but also stuff happens AN: I cannot tell you guys how much I appreciate you continuing to appreciate this story. It’s exceptionally nice, and I think you’re wonderful. Here’s a whole slew of feelings and tradition and magic. Like, lots of magic. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the start

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This is a problem. 

Multiple problems, honestly. Like, at least seven different problems that Emma can think of off the top of her head, and obviously the most pressing is getting back to the right part of her timeline, but only marginally less distressing is the overall domesticity of her life at this point of her timeline. 

It’s more than the pillows. Of which there are just an absolutely ridiculous amount, actually. They hover in couch corners and fall to the floor with alarming regularity because, between the two of them, Hope and Lucy are something akin to forces of nature, hopped up on Christmas-type sugar and the cookies that people apparently just hand out on the street in Storybrooke. Someone’s always got some sort of baked good, freshly out of the oven — and while Emma’s discovered she’s particularly partial to Granny’s snickerdoodles, she can’t imagine any of this is very efficient. 

For Storybrooke’s economy, or whatever. 

There’s no bank. Emma looked. And asked. Several dwarfs, actually. All of whom immediately bowed and narrowed their eyes at her like she’d totally lost her mind, which seems pretty accurate at this point. Five days after waking up on that couch, with all of its pillows and questionable comfort, and only a handful of people actually know what’s going on. 

Not Hope. 

And no one actually told her to do that, but Emma figures it’s kind of like deciding to take her boots off in the house. Polite. Plus, a growing determination not to traumatize a ridiculously cute four-year-old, even when that four-year-old appears to be far more adept at stealing cookies than anything else. 

Crumbs line the counter in the morning, and there’s usually a bit of evidence directly outside Hope’s bedroom door, signs of a late-night theft that shouldn’t make Emma smile. She does anyway. Can’t seem to stop it, which might be problem number four. Three is definitely Killian’s consistent lack of jacket, which admittedly is a very surface problem, but the button-up shirts are all ridiculously patterned, and trying not to ask who initially took him shopping is like, problem, three sub-a. 

So, no one tells Hope that her mom isn’t her mom. Technically speaking, at least. They go through the motions, and Emma smiles when she’s supposed to, and she eats what is undoubtedly the world record for snickerdoodle consumption by a wayward princess, but trying to be herself, while also not being herself continues to be a rather daunting prospect. 

Particularly because whomever Regina believed would know more about Neverland vegetation and its ability to ruin everything is taking their sweet time responding or showing up in Storybrooke, and they’ve tried what feels like several thousand things to get Emma back, but magic beans were a no-go, and some very fancy wand didn’t do anything except infuriate Regina with it uselessness, and it’s still Christmas, so there are apparently a metric shit ton of traditions and expectations, and—

“Wait, what?” Emma asks, perched on the edge of her desk in the station because that’s at least something she’s used to. Less so to Killian’s presence at the only other desk, and she doesn’t remember the only other desk being quite so close to her’s, but it’s entirely possible that’s a trick of her not-quite coherent mind. 

Might be problem six. Maybe seven. Making it six gives it power, and acknowledges how much the state of his tongue continues to affect her cognitive abilities. Of which there were already very few, especially while she was exhausted in Neverland, and Emma’s not willing to risk anymore. 

“It’s something of a requirement,” Killian says, not for the first time. Princesses have a ridiculous number of requirements, Emma’s rather quickly learned. And he can’t seem to sit straight in any chair. Also ridiculous. 

“Does that not hurt your spine?”

Shrugging, he smirks at her and that’s been happening more often. Not that she’s keeping track, or anything. She’s just—aware, that’s totally the right word. Of him, and what he does with his face and his patterned shirts, and there’s been no bare arm again, but Emma’s still not really his wife, and she knows the hours he’s spent holed up in one of the copious rooms in their quasi-mansion have been dedicated to research. 

And getting his wife back. 

That’s fine. It’s fine. Definitely not a problem. Hasn’t even crossed her mind. 

Emma doesn’t want him to want her. Like, ever. 

And they’re waiting for her dad, anyway. To report back on some magical failing in Wonderland. Seriously, everything is so fine that it's almost a problem as well. It’s too fine. Everything is—

Great. 

“Are you concerned about the state of my spine, darling?”

Melting is not an option — so far as Emma is aware of, but it’s certainly very appealing in the moment. When that moment includes tilted lips and an angled neck seemingly designed to ensure Killian’s hair falls artfully across his forehead, as if the strands are there to frame his eyes and the hint of light in them. 

She takes a deep breath. 

The light brightens. Or she imagines. 

“A tree lighting, though,” Emma says, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Killian’s brows jump. Up his forehead and past those strands of hair she’s only passably obsessed with. “Isn’t that kind of...I don’t know, it’s not very fairy tale.” “Regina lights the candles with magic, if that helps.” “So why do I have to be there?” “The monarchy usually stands on a platform, waves lovingly to their subjects and—” “—God, how is there more?” Emma balks, but that only gets her a more powerful smirk and eyes that are far too blue to be fair, and they still haven’t painted the dining room. She’s not going to ask about that. 

She’s not. 

“This is something of the central hub for the rest of the United Realms,” Killian explains, “and with Regina and the Charmings here, it makes sense that people...flock.” “Like birds.” “Not the ones your mother can commune with, but I suppose the metaphor is appropriate.”

“Who decided to hold Regina’s queen election?” Eyeing her speculatively, Emma does her very best not to wither under Killian’s expression. She’s not altogether confident it works, but they’ve almost come to something like an understanding, and it’s very easy. This, them. No, not them. There’s no them and while Emma’s done her fair share of staring, there can’t be a them now because that will undoubtedly fuck with the timeline and probably everything else, just to keep inspiring problematic lists, and her increasing desire to kiss him until he also has to deal with wobbly knees is just something she’s going to have to deal with. 

“Maybe I won’t remember when I get back,” Emma reasons, but that one word comes out as wobbly as her knees have been and Killian purses his lips. “Ok, fine—tell me something totally random, then. A fun-fact, as it were.” “Random.” “Do you not know what that means?” He rolls his eyes. “I know at least three more languages than you do, so—” “—No you do not!”

Nodding, Killian smiles over the edge of his coffee mug, and neither one of them mention that his proclivity to drinking a gallon of coffee every morning could probably be this so-called fun fact. “English, obviously, and—” “—Ok, I can clearly speak English,” Emma argues. She nearly bites her tongue in half at the force of Killian’s answering look, part amusement and even more heat and that only circles her back around to the melting thing. 

“Aye, but I definitely know more curses than you do, so that’s got to count for something. Also that’s simply my base language, as it were.” She sneers. He chuckles. Into the mug, but it feels like the emotion behind it sinks under Emma’s skin and times up with her pulse, less erratic than it had been those first few nights, and she’s actually started sleeping consistently. “Then of course, I’m rather familiar with Latin.” “Dead, it doesn’t count.” “Impressive, though.” “Sounds like you’re fishing for compliments, Captain.” “Unnecessary, when I know you’ll be all wide-eyed and amazed in a moment,” Killian promises, swinging his legs to prop his feet on the edge of her desk. “There’s also Greek, and—” Waving her hands, Emma doesn’t explicitly try to swat at his legs, but he’s just so goddamn close, and still exuding heat, and she’s starting to have some assumptions about that as well. Of the possibly magic and decidedly—no she’s not doing that. They’re not that. Not like this, anyway. And Killian doesn’t immediately move, but that only lulls her into a false sense of security, the metal of his hook is cold enough that she yelps when it circles both her wrists.

“Fairy,” he finishes, and Emma refuses to believe he leans forward on purpose. 

“No.” “You keep objecting to my facts and you’ll give a man a complex, Swan.” “Why would you know Greek, you’re a—” “—Fairy tale character?” 

Emma presses her lips together. So as not to make an undignified noise. She’s already whimpered enough, and cried more than she thought possible and the hitch in his voice threatens to shatter several things. Moving her hands is impossible, which is probably for the best, but all of her would very much like to cup his cheek, if only to see if he’ll kiss the inside of her wrist, and she’s like ninety-two percent positive he would. “Pirate prince,” she corrects lightly, and does get her a smile. “Do you have an official title here?” “Captain.” “That’s it?” “Not impressive enough, huh?”

There’s no music on in the station, but they’re clearly dancing all the same — around each other, and the maelstrom of feelings Emma is doing a God awful job of ignoring, and at some point one of them is going to have to pull away from the other. In more ways than one. 

“I didn’t say that,” she shakes, “and don’t bother telling me it’s another argument, I don’t care. I’m just—curious, I guess.” “About me?”

Nodding is the least dangerous response when she’s so worried about tripping over her own feet in this metaphorical waltz, but it’s one of the more accurate things she’s said since she got here, and now she’s got an excuse. No repercussions, nothing exactly permanent about these conversations, or this information, and no one’s told her whether or not she’ll retain her memories once she gets back, but they also don’t know she’ll get back so—

Fuck it, honestly. 

“Yeah,” Emma replies, not bothering to gloat when Killian’s the one whose eyes go wide first. 

“Oh.” “Is that unexpected?” “Maybe at this point.”

Humming, she files that away, preening slightly under the not-quite-compliment. “Not an answer though. Habit of yours.” “Not really, you’re just very demanding in this incarnation.” “Product of my situation, I guess.” He laughs. It’s something that happens more often here than it did when Emma knew him — knows him, whatever tenses get confusing in time travel. Still, the sound consistently manages to catch her off guard. Free and easy, and the magic that rustles in the back of her brain might deserve its own list. 

Or another conversation with Regina. “The Royal Navy,” Killian says, an answer Emma nearly forgot she wanted. Her eyes widen. He looks triumphant. “See, told you.” “Like an Enchanted Forest GI bill, huh? See new lands, learn new languages.” “Something like that, aye.” “How’d you get to fairy?” “Did you meet the Lady Bell before—” “—I got yanked out of Neverland?” Emma quips, and it might be a defense mechanism. Making jokes, but she also hasn’t gone into detail about the plant-thing yet, and that might be because she doesn’t want to freak him out. 

Anymore than he already is. He spends at least an hour in that room every night. 

“Yeah, I did,” she adds,” after she kidnapped Regina and told us Greg and Tamara were dead, which...y’know—” “—Wasn’t the worst thing in the world?” “Does that make me a horrible person?” Killian shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” “Are you going to tell me you learned fairy language from an actual fairy?” “Not much else to do on a hellish island for several hundred years, and it’s a rather complicated tongue. Takes some practice.” “Oh, you’re doing that on purpose now.” The speed of his grin is like molasses. Emma assumes. She’s not sure she’s ever encountered molasses in real life. Even so, the whole thing is bordering on obscene and the opposite of the Christmas spirit and—“Alright,” she concedes, “learning fairy is actually pretty impressive.” “You flatter me, love.”

“What’s your favorite fairy curse word and do you think anyone would be totally scandalized if I used it during this super fancy, exceptionally royal tree lighting?” 

Absolutely, goddamn obscene. The tip of his tongue finds the corner of his mouth, and his eyes get noticeably darker, Emma’s pulse picking up until she’s sure they can hear it on the other side of town, and there’s already barely any space between them, but that appears to be decreasing with every passing second. She’s got no idea who’s moving. She might be moving. 

God, she hopes she’s moving.

Losing control of her limbs may send her off some ledge. 

And she’s just about to throw caution to the seemingly ever-present wind that comes off the harbor, because the front of this patterned shirt looks particularly yankable, but the station door creaks, and a muscle in Killian’s jaw jumps and David clicks his teeth exactly once when he walks in. 

“Interrupting something, am I?” “No, no,” Emma stammers at the same time Killian mumbles “absolutely not,” and neither of those things sound all that honest. 

She’s never gone into cardiac arrest, but if this is what it feels like, it’s kind of disorienting. 

“You hear about the tree lighting, Emma?” David asks, and that’s obviously where her inability to tactfully alter the course of a conversation comes from. Killian rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, slumping back into his chair. 

Exhaling feels like an admission of guilt, but Emma can’t have anything to feel guilty about here, and she hopes Killian’s getting sleep. On the couch. He keeps sleeping on the couch. 

Of course he does. 

“Do I have to wear a gown or anything?” “It’s outside,” David says, “there are trees involved.”

Killian’s hook pokes at his chair arm. “Only one tree, as far as I knew.” “Why are you like this?” “You’re charmed by it, I know,” he chuckles, eyes flashing towards Emma. Coincidence, she’s sure. Her cheeks are very warm. 

She’s very warm. Passably magical, maybe. 

David sighs. “No, there are no gowns. It is in fact only one tree, and Em—you don’t have to say anything. Regina will thank people for coming, Snow will open up the meal and that’ll be that.” “Should I know what the meal is?” Emma asks, and her gaze doesn’t automatically drift towards Killian either. It just, sort of—meanders there, naturally. His tongue is still doing that thing. 

“I was going to get to that part eventually.” “There’s kind of a reception,” David explains, “with cookies.” “Shit, how many cookies can one United Realm eat?” “An exceptional amount,” Killian mutters, and Emma might guffaw. While realizing why her other version had been baking so much before. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” David adds, “just show up and smile, and you’ll get some cookies out of it.” “Will I not get cookies if I don’t smile?” Not able to stop whatever noise rumbles out of him, the force of Killian’s grin makes Emma glad she’s sitting down again. “I’ll swipe you some if you don’t.” “Very gallant.” “Happens from time to time.” Flirting in front of her father is wrong. That’s if this counts as flirting. As far as Emma knows, most of their banter has been a product of their mutually ridiculous lives, and whatever situation they’ve found themselves in at the moment, but this moment doesn’t hold any danger and it is so goddamn easy. 

She smiles. 

Killian beams. 

David sighs again. “Anyone want to hear about Wonderland now? Or how the White Rabbit can’t draw any portals? Or—” “—This is a really extensive list,” Emma grumbles, and Killian’s smile is going to get stuck on his face. Permanently. She’s very charmed by the crinkles around his eyes. 

“Tinker Bell is here.” Slamming his feet back onto the floor, Killian practically snaps to attention, and Emma’s body goes through another reaction she does not expect. What feels suspiciously like jealousy rattles down her spine, rooting her to the spot and drying out her mouth and David’s far too observant. 

He clicks his teeth again. “When?” Killian asks, already standing and offering Emma his hand. She takes it, not thinking about what that means — or how it affects the half-green tint clouding her vision, and her heart misses a beat. As soon as his fingers lace through hers. 

“Just now. Went to Regina’s, but I had to come here, so one of Snow’s birds told me.” “You can talk to the birds too?” Emma balks, stumbling while Killian all but yanks her towards the door. 

“No, no, they carry messages now.” “Ah of course.” “Did Tink say anything yet?” Killian demands, David already shaking his head and they’re picking up speed. All but jogging down Main Street and towards Regina’s office, and the nickname probably isn’t important. It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s all going to be good. 

Even when the fairy in question snaps towards the office door as it swings open, practically lighting up when she notices Killian and Regina’s eyes go noticeably thin. Staring at Emma like she’s trying to read her mind. 

Her fingers are still tied up with Killian’s. “Hook,” Tinker Bell exclaims, and she doesn’t have any visible wings so she can’t fly out of her chair. She tries all the same, arms that bump Emma as they hug her not-quite husband and he mutters a greeting. It takes a moment for Tinker Bell’s gaze to find Emma, trying and failing to keep her expression even, and Killian might chuckle. 

She kicks his ankle. 

“Emma,” Tink breathes, “it’s good to see you again, you have to get the hell out of this timeline.”

“So, that’s it,” Tinker Bell finishes, shrugging like Emma’s not dangerously close to fully breaking down and Killian’s thumb keeps tapping the side of her palm. Because he’s still holding her hand. Cool, it’s cool. She’s not totally preoccupied with that. 

Regina’s totally staring, anyway. 

“Will-o-wisps,” Killian says, “I thought that was a rumor.” More shrugging. There’s too much shrugging for Emma. “I’ve never heard of it in practice,” Tinker Bell reasons, “but can you think of another plant in Neverland that could do such a thing? That rumor you’re talking about always mentioned how it would draw a traveler in, bewitch them with lights and—were there lights, Emma?”

She nods. Swallows, or tries at least. But her tongue is expanding again, and her heart might be shrinking, and the whole thing feels like a very cruel trick. 

“Pan would have known about all of that,” Tinker Bell continues, “and used it to his advantage. If he could get Emma to follow the light, then she wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” “But I didn’t actually move anywhere,” Emma argues. “There was no following the light.” Regina exhales. “Probably more metaphorical, giving into what the light offered.” “Which was?” “This, obviously. What we talked about, and what you thought you couldn’t ever have while you were stuck in Neverland, convinced of a whole slew of wholly negative things. So, there was no walking, but—” “—I wouldn’t have just run away!” 

Voice cracking is a sign of impending mental breakdown, Emma’s sure. As are Killian’s tightening fingers, although she’s starting to depend on those fingers just a bit because sitting hadn’t even crossed her mind before and now that might be the only reason she’s still standing.

That keeps happening. 

“Doesn’t sound like you had a choice,” Regina says, “if Pan wanted to tempt you, will-o-wisps seem like the perfect way to do it. See the light, get pulled into this future, he gets Henry, and everything he wants.” “But Henry is here. He’s—he’s a grown man, with a kid and—” “—None of that is set in stone,” Tinker Bell interrupts, magic roaring in Emma’s ears. Killian’s going to cut off the circulation to her hand. “With you out of the way, Pan’s got a straight shot at the heart of the truest believer, he can change what you would have eventually done. Make sure he gets the magic that’ll save Neverland. That’s why everything else is falling apart.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Magic,” David clarifies. “All of it acting strangely? Turns out that is because of you, kid.” Scoffing makes her lean forward awkwardly, but Killian doesn’t mention the strain it’s undoubtedly putting on his arm, and letting go of her hand is disappointing for about two seconds. Before it turns into his arm around waist. 

Regina’s expression turns calculating. 

“Again,” she says, “it’s what we talked about. Things falling apart because you got pulled off the board. Into this exceedingly tempting place.”

Widening her eyes at the unspoken judgement doesn’t do anything to alter Regina’s face, but Emma didn’t really expect it to and her eyes hurt. From not crying. She can’t possibly cry anymore. “I’ve never been to Wonderland, though. How could I fuck up its magic?” “You’ve been other places, love,” Killian murmurs, “and all of that has ripple effects. Savior saves one place, and other realms reap the benefits.” “Is Neverland in the United Realms?” “No.” “Just like that?” “Just like that,” he echoes, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “What do we do now, Your Majesty?”

Taking a deep breath, Regina lets it out almost immediately — staring at limbs and their out-of-place placement for a moment, before glancing at Tinker Bell. Who shrugs, again. Emma’s going to scream. Before she cries. Maybe then all the emotions will balance out. “We figure out a way to get Emma back to the right place, so she can save Henry and defeat Pan, then we hope that things haven’t been altered so much in the past that this version of the future crumbles entirely.” “What was that about no pressure before?” Emma huffs, David laughing under his breath and the feel of something on her hair is absolutely not Killian’s lips. “And honesty, what options do we have left? As far as time travel goes.” “Eh, we're far from exhausted on possibilities,” Regina says. “Just need to get creative.” Tinker Bell’s gasp is very loud. “Have you tried—” “—No,” Killian cuts in, sharper than anything else he’s said. “That’s not going to work.” “But you haven’t tried.” “Because it’s not an option.” “Oh, that’s very negative.” He hums, and Emma waits for the rest of the conversation. Another verbal volley, but it doesn’t come and Tinker Bell looks very disappointed. She’s got another migraine. “How long do you think we have until this future just—disintegrates?” Emma asks. 

She counts to twenty-four before anyone replies. “Maybe a couple days,” Regina replies, “a week at most.” “So—Christmas, then?” “I bet he didn’t plan that on purpose, just one of those crazy happenstances.” “Yuh huh.” “Try and sound more convincing next time, that one sucked a bit.”

Hearing the so-called queen of these supposed United Realms utter the word sucked without a hint of irony is not what Emma expects to be the straw that breaks her back, but it is and her back hurts, and all of her aches, and saving people is her gig. She’s got to figure out a way to do that. No matter what. 

She can’t do that while standing here. With three matching looks of concern, and one of absolute and total fear boring into the side of her head, and Emma’s also very good at running.

That would suggest she’s got control over her limbs, though. Stumbling down the stairs, she makes it about three-quarters of the way down before the whole thing is too challenging and her lungs appear to be disappearing, or possibly melting, and something in her spine cracks when she falls forward. 

Hair brushes Emma’s knees, shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs and the volume of her breathing and the hand that lands on hers doesn’t surprise her as much as it should. “In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Killian instructs, only for Emma to flat out fail at that too. 

Becoming a very frustrating theme. “Why are you so worried about my oxygen intake?” “It concerns me that you’re not, actually.”

Letting out a breath she definitely could have used, Emma’s head lolls. Towards his shoulder and the very solid nature of him, and he doesn’t try to roll her off. Just shifts his arm so it’s back around her waist and that does make it a bit easier to keep her lungs functioning. 

“Was it all of reality collapsing, or Regina using that particular word?”

Emma groans. “Mind reading’s kind of a violation of privacy.” “Invoking my pirate excuse.” “That’s not a thing.” “Eh,” he says, and she hears the smile. That’s...nice. “Having no regard for laws is something of a requirement for piracy.” “This is not working as well as you think it is.” “I respectfully disagree. We’re going to fix this, you know that, right?” “I can’t imagine how.” “Sheer stubbornness hardwired into your personality.” Laughing hurts her very tight and anxiety-riddled chest, but Emma can’t help herself and she’d been right about the smile. Magic flutters under her skin, a steady pulse that’s slightly different than her normal pulse because it’s also more consistent and Killian’s nose is close enough to brush her cheek. If he wanted. 

She wonders if he does. She’d like him to. 

But that’s another problem, and more danger than anything Neverland could offer, and—“Fuck Peter Pan, honestly,” Emma proclaims, Killian’s response warm on her skin because it also includes a sound drifting close to a guffaw and she supposes his mouth is as close as his nose. What with the general structure of faces, and all. 

He kisses her cheek. 

Quick — barely there, really. Over before it has a chance to register, but Emma’s certain she’s been catapulted into the stratosphere, and he blinks almost hyperactively at her. She’s right about the palm thing too. 

He turns into her hand as soon as it finds his cheek. 

“Apologies,” Killian mumbles, retreating back into formalities and behind walls Emma had been clinging to only a few days before. Now they’re just kind of annoying. “Force of habit.”

“Was it the fuck Peter Pan that got you?” “You’ve always been something of a wordsmith.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Emma smiles. “Can I—can I ask you a question?” “No need to preface it, darling.” That’s something like the eighth time that’s happened. In the last two days. Second in the last hour or so. Emma’s not counting that either. “Do you remember this?” “Currently?” “Don’t be an ass,” she snarks, but his hook is around her wrists before she can even try to lift her hands. “The will-o-wisp attack. I—well, it was my turn to watch and I was kind of wallowing because of everything that had happened, and—” Telling him she wanted to kiss him then and now and possibly for the rest of time is also very appealing. And terrifying. Emma bites her tongue. Coward. 

“No,” Killian shakes his head. “I don’t.” “Is that weird?” “Decidedly.” “So, then—wait, I’ve got another question.” He lifts his eyebrows. Smirks. Has the absolute cheek to lift his thumb and brush tears away from her skin, and Emma resolutely refuses to acknowledge the shiver that goes through her at that. “What was with your huh’s, then?” “Last night, you mean.” “I said Echo Caves and you totally froze. Is that—” “Quite a lot of things happen in Neverland,” Killian finishes, “and not all of them have happened for you yet.” “Menacing.” He hums again, takes a deep breath that clearly isn’t a sign he wants to kiss her again. When he does not actually kiss her again. Fine, fine, fine, super. “Not all of it,” he says, although the words sound suspiciously like a promise and neither one of them blink when a bird flies through the open window nearby. 

“Are those birds flying in sync?” “Stop talking, you’re going to get us in trouble.” “What was that about pirate code, or whatever?” Grinning up at him and his scowl, Emma can’t help but be a little proud that she’s managed to distract the great and passably royal Captain Killian Jones during the United Realm’s annual tree lighting. Which in retrospect, does seem kind of strange since Emma can’t imagine they actually have Christmas in the Enchanted Forest. 

That’s a conversation for a different time, though. 

For now she’s willing to keep playing distraction, and it’s very fun to flirt. With Killian, specifically. She’ll consider the repercussions of that later, too. 

“As far as I’m aware,” Killian whispers, trying to keep Hope from jumping into the nearest snowbank, “your mother has instructed them to appear at certain and integral points in the ceremony. For dramatic effect.” “Kind of gaudy, isn’t it?” “A requirement of royalty, so it would seem.”

The muscles in her cheeks are starting to ache. From overuse, and that’s—another problem. Being here a tease. That one strand of hair that always manages to fall towards Killian’s right eye is the worst. 

“How long have you been holding onto that particular opinion?” They haven't turned the tree on yet, so whatever light reflects in his eyes is more theoretical than anything. Regina must have practiced this speech at some point. No way this is all improvised, not with the dramatic pauses and introductions and— “Oh shit,” Emma mutters, the ends of Killian’s ears going red because Regina is introducing them and Hope is nothing more than four uncoordinated limbs and Henry snickers very loudly.

Ella elbows him in the side. 

Emma likes her daughter-in-law. She hasn’t allowed herself to think about that title, or the granddaughter it comes with, but she’s getting very good at putting thoughts in boxes and only partially acknowledging what they mean and Killian's hand finds her again. 

Magic rushes from the top of her head to the very bottom of her feet, standing a bit straighter in another pair of boots, and Killian’s whole body moves towards her. So as to make it easier when he openly gapes at her. 

That must happen a lot too, though. No one bats an eyelash. “If you’re all done,” Regina drawls, but Henry isn’t and Ella can’t contain her laugh either. Mary Margaret looks overjoyed. Even as her birds break formation. 

Emma nods. “All good.” “Gods, the whole lot of you are annoying. You know—” Waving one hand, candles burst into flame without a word, multi-colored lights appearing on every branch, and it takes Emma a moment to realize that everyone in the crowd is holding an ornament. 

“What are they for?” she asks Killian, not bothering to lower her face over the cheers. People are cheering for the tree. “They’re wishes, Mama,” Hope cries. “From everyone!”

He nods when the four-year-old doesn’t explain anymore — already rushing towards Mary Margaret and her ornament. “That’s why people come from all over. Aside from the festive nature, and the talented birds, it’s an old superstition. Place an ornament where the candle was, and you’ll get your wish.” “What happens to the candle?” “Supposed to bring it home, and light that space with the feeling of the solstice.”

In any other situation, exhaling as forcefully as she does would be embarrassing. As it is, Emma figures she’s got a thousand excuses and the hand in hers gives no indication of letting go any time soon. So, seems like a wash. “Gods, that’s nice.” “Aye, it is.”

Hope puts an ornament on the tree. 

So does Henry. 

And Lucy. The list goes on and on, but all Emma can do is stand at the end of Granny’s counters and eat her weight in Snickerdoodles. 

She's the worst, frankly. 

Snow starts to fall just as Emma’s wavering between that happy medium of pleasantly buzzed and legitimately drunk, and she’s got to ask someone who doles out the liquor licenses in this realm because it appears Granny’s hand has grown a bit heavy over the years. 

Lucy scampers towards the far window as soon as she notices the storm, already talking a mile a minute and detailing plans with Hope and Neal — and this happy medium makes it impossible for Emma to be too frustrated by that, but she also hasn’t actually asked what happened to Neal or why he doesn’t appear in Storybrooke, so it seems it’s more difficult to rid herself of the self-imposed asshole moniker than she’d like. 

And the bell over the door rattles like it’s the goddamn town crier, another familiar face stepping through the frame. With red highlights in her hair. “Are we doing this, then?” Ruby asks, flanked by a woman Emma doesn’t recognize and another redhead who is obviously not Ariel and it’s strange to see Mulan out of armor. 

“Cap?” Ruby presses, when no one responds quickly enough, “this is happening, right?” Glancing at a wary Henry and back towards a clearly confused Emma, Killian grits his teeth. While she does her best to come to terms with nicknames, and another tradition and Hope tries very hard to climb up Emma’s side. 

So as to yell in her ear easier. 

“It’s snowing, Mama. We’ve got to play!” Emma blinks. “In the snow.” “It’s a...thing,” Killian explains. “Gets almost—” “—Bloodthirsty,” Mary Margaret says, which is not the most shocking thing that’s happened so far, but Emma’s buzz is starting to ebb slightly and someone’s knocking on the door. Another redhead, with her hair in braids and what looks like suspiciously like a crown on her head and David lets out a joyful noise when he notices the guy behind her. 

Mary Margaret tugs at the edge of Emma’s sleeve. She might be nearly drunk too, actually. If her slight wobble is any indication. “In the past,” she starts, “there’s been some notably magical snowstorms here. It was quite an event when Elsa first arrived, but then well—you helped save her, and her sister.” The redhead waves, as if she knows she’s being talked about and Emma can’t fathom how she makes that connection, but she’s getting better at puzzles. “And now,” Mary Margaret continues, “it’s become something of a ritual.”

Ruby gags. “Oh Gods, don’t say it like that. Sounds ruthless.” “Isn’t it, though?” Henry challenges. “The gist is, that Elsa shows up after the tree lighting with her snow powers and we have a snowball fight.” She’s too drunk for this. Definitely well past buzzed at this point. “A snowball fight,” Emma repeats, half a dozen nodding heads replying with equally large smiles and the almost audible sense of anticipation hovering around them. 

Hope widens her eyes. It’s a very good trick. “She practices that,” Killian mutters, more mind reading that Emma doesn’t bother to point out because the redhead is shouting "come on, let’s go'' and that sounds like a command. And bloodthirsty is a very appropriate adjective. 

Teams are quickly formed, alliances announced and the guy Emma realizes is named Kristoff claims “honor must be defended” enough times that it appears to be a catchphrase. Laughter rings out around them, dancing on the magically-induced snowflakes and off the lights, and there aren’t as many candles on the tree anymore, but some flames continue to flicker, casting shadows across faces and snowballs. 

As they fly past Emma’s ears. 

“Your aim could use some work,” Killian says, breathing heavier as he ducks behind a snow drift they’re using as a blockade. Emma sneers. “Where’d the kid go?” “Ours?” She nods. Tries not to die. Only marginally succeeds. Killian doesn’t appear to notice. Force of habit is a very strong rationalization, it seems. “She’s allied herself with her much more impressive brother, who—” Lifting out of his crouch, Killian cups a hand to his mouth, like that will help the volume of his ensuing insult. “—Has clearly been practicing snowball creation in the Wish Realm and only knows how to win by cheating!” “I learned it from you,” Henry calls back. 

David’s laugh is loud enough to disrupt a whole flock of birds. Perched on the branches above his and Mary Margaret’s head. 

Goosebumps make a glorious return to Emma’s arm — and quite possibly her soul, which only seems like an exaggeration until she notices the spots of color on Killian’s cheeks and the bits of snow clinging to his hair. His eyes get bluer when she brushes the moisture away. Have to, if only to explain Emma’s fluttering magic and fledgling pulse and a snowball slams into her left shoulder blade. “Gotta hide better,” Anna calls, the blonde behind her, who is definitely Elsa, shaking with the force of her laughter. Everyone keeps laughing. Everyone is so happy. It’s—

A goddamn Christmas Utopia. 

“You did offer yourself up a bit,” Killian reasons, Emma gasping at the betrayal. Pulling on the front of her now-damp jacket, he tugs her back against his side and they’re very close. Too close. Possibly not close enough. 

“And what would you suggest o ye master strategist?” “Little wordy, don’t you think?”

“I retract my compliment, then.” “Ahaha,” he chuckles, “a compliment, was it? Well that’s totally different, then. Now, if you just stay here with—” The rest of the sentence gets caught up in his grunt and groan and Emma’s not particularly disappointed to see Hope’s return to this side of the snowball fight, but she’s also fairly certain there was a me looming on the tip of Killian’s very distracting tongue and she’d like to hear that. Selfishly. “Oh, switched allegiances again, have you, little love?” “Henry can’t enchant the snowballs,” Hope says, like that’s supposed to make sense and it almost does because Emma has magic, but she’s never tried to use it on snow. At least not yet.

“I don’t—” she starts, only to cut herself off. At the overall circumference of Hope’s eyes, and the color of Killian’s and there’s something to said for sheer force of will. “Gimme a snowball, baby.”

Excitement immediately colors her daughter’s face, smile wide enough that it’s probably a record and Killian doesn’t say anything. Watches without a single shift of his chest, which means Emma is staring at his chest, but he’s also obviously not breathing, and her lungs can’t stand up to much more of this. 

An admittedly lackluster snowball gets plopped in Emma’s upturned palm, and she blinks away the cold like this is old hat. Or something less lame sounding. Snow packs together like—well, magic, she supposes, a perfect sphere that isn’t quite iced over, but won’t fall apart when one of them throws it and obviously Hope’s got to throw it. 

“Ok,” she says, nodding encouragingly. “Who did you want to take down?” Killian’s lips disappear. Behind his teeth. To stop himself from grinning like a maniac, or so Emma very quickly convinces herself. 

“Uncle Kris,” Hope announces, and this family’s apparently only grown in the last decade or so. Maybe Emma should be more concerned about her heart. And its ability to burst. 

“We can do that. Just—toss it up, and…”

She’s got no idea, really. Just generic hope, and a surplus of feeling, but Emma’s always been told that magic is emotion and she’s not sure she’s ever been more emotional, which is a scathing commentary of her life, but this is also her life and— Killian scoops Hope up, an impressive act of balance and dodging incoming snowballs, and Emma will use that emotion as a reasonable excuse for what she does next. Reaching forward, her fingers curl around the brace at the end of his arm, not able to actually touch skin because he’s wearing a leather jacket, and that’s only sort of messing with her mind. But the motivation is the same, and she’s got all those suspicions and thoughts and—

The most powerful magic in the world. 

“Throw it, love,” Killian directs, Hope’s arm pulling behind her like she’s a professional baseball player, and Emma squeezes her eyes shut. Warmth curls at the base of her spine, inching up her vertebrae until it takes root at the base of her skull, spreading out through her brain and the rest of her limbs and he definitely kisses her hair again. 

She’d been counting on that, just a bit. 

Muscles loosen under her skin, no sense of tension or that ever-present anxiety Emma’s always just assumed was part of her genetic makeup. Shouts echo around her, in addition to the snow, but she can’t quite hear any of it over the explosion of magic between her ears, and Hope’s cry of success will probably be branded on Emma for the rest of her life. 

She hopes so, at least. 

Opening her eyes to find Kristoff sputtering, and Anna as impressed as she is indignant, Emma only barely has a chance to catch her breath before there’s a kid flying into her arms. It’s harder to hold her when she doesn’t let go of Killian. And Killian doesn’t pull away. 

He watches both of them. Traces over Emma’s face, the same way she had in the hallway, and something happens. Something important. Passing between them, and cementing itself in her gut and her soul and his lips twitch. At her magic, probably. “Thank you,” Killian mouths, Emma nodding against Hope’s hair. She kisses it. Out of habit, or whatever.

Strands of hair are damp against Emma's temple by the time they traipse back to the house, Hope asleep on Killian’s shoulder. Enchanted snowflakes linger on the back of her jacket, hovering on her eyelashes for maximum effect and peak cute, which didn’t need any help if Emma’s being honest and she might be willing to err on the side of that particular feeling right now. So as to keep the feeling, all year long and maybe even indefinitely. 

Or whatever they said about Ebenezer Scrooge. 

After he learned to love Christmas. And other humans. 

Emma’s still not thinking too hard about that particular word, though. So, maybe complete honesty’s something of a stretch, but the kid is undeniably adorable and it’s admittedly difficult to think straight when Killian is—

Killian. In italicized and underlined lettering, meeting Emma snark for snark, and snowball for snowball, and she really wants to know his Monopoly cheating strategy, but that’s a problem for an entirely different list because that list has impossible words and improbable feelings and he’s staring at her.

Where she’s leaning against their front door. 

Using possessive and collective pronouns isn’t helping her cause. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. For the benefit of the sleeping kid, Emma figures. Not the state of her pulse, or the magic he could feel, and the cyclical nature of time is just toying with her at this point. 

She nods. “Better than, somehow.” “Oh, that’s a little negative, Swan.” “Kind of my schtick, isn’t it.” “Not always,” Killian says, another pair of words that shouldn’t sound like a promise and clearly do not care. Emma feels her smile. Like, possibly in the very core of her being. At least between her ribs, where the growing sense of belonging has decided to linger, this feeling of home and possibility and staying here is not a possibility. Tinker Bell will figure something out. 

Emma will — that’s how Savior’ing works, after all. 

“You know,” Killian adds, Hope humming into his neck and there’s quite a lot of neck. Emma might be staring at his neck. “At some point we concoct this very impressive buttered rum recipe, that’s notoriously good at warding off chills.” Digging her teeth into her lips does not do anything to disperse the butterflies in Emma’s stomach, but she’s also not all that interested in them leaving. “Concerned about my breathing and my overall body temperature?” God, she’s an idiot. 

Flirting isn't quite second nature, though — and Emma’s even less accustomed to flirting as a two-way street, but this feels as easy as it has and will and there’s those tense-based issues all over again. Killian grins. Slow, and measured and inching almost close to lecherous, sparking a handful of other other ideas that—

Immediately disappears when the four-year-old wakes up. 

Brushed teeth take precedence, as do picking out pajamas and Hope is in possession of more pajama sets than Emma knew could exist in one set of drawers. Then there’s a bedding routine, lifting comforters and crawling under sheets and Emma doesn’t know the story requested of her. 

She’s got no idea what happens after Prince Charles spun around with his sword. 

It’s got to be impressive, though. 

“Oh, Hope I—” she exhales, fear creeping back into the forefront of her mind. Until fingers find they’re way back into hers, and they’re just as warm as they always are and it takes Killian less than three minutes to promise a different story on another night. 

No tears are shed, so that’s got to be a victory and Hope’s eyes are already fluttering closed when Killian flicks off the light. Lingering in the hallway, Emma’s not sure what she’s supposed to do or where she’s supposed to go, but there’s a hook pressed into the small of her back and buttered rum turns out to have a ridiculous amount of cinnamon in it. “Shit,” Emma mutters into her glass, and Killian looks far too satisfied. “This is really good.” “Took some trial and error, but we got there eventually. Or get there for you, I suppose.” Sipping instead of responding is another cowardly move, one Emma won’t ever admit to and it doesn’t matter because he can read her mind. At least her face. Open book, and all that. 

“I’m sorry.” Killian blinks. “For what, exactly?” “God, throw a dart. Everything I—showing up in your life and making the right Emma disappear, maybe, and that’s got to be fucking with you, and—” “—You’re not the wrong Emma,” he interrupts, with enough force to pull her up short. Buttered rum drips on her chin. So, she’s a picture of romance and flirting potential. “Just a little early, that’s all.” “Not what you said when I got here.” “Aye, well that was the bastard version of me. He’s a—” “—Bastard?” “Absolutely,” Killian nods, “and maybe a little unsure of himself when it comes to you.”

It’s her turn to blink. More than once, only a little concerned the scene in front of her will change, but it doesn’t and it won’t and there’s got to be a limit on time travel. Emma’s reached her quota by now, she hopes. “Because I’m a mess now? I mean, this version of me. Not the wife one.” “You’re worried about Henry. And I understand that, did then as well. I just—you want to know why the Echo Caves gave me pause? Because if you got tugged right after that, then all you’re sure of is that I think I could move on from Milah, but nothing else has happened for you yet. No promises or—” Swallowing, he sets his glass down and there wasn’t much room between them, but there’s even less now and Emma’s got nowhere to put her hands. Except on his thigh. Where it bumps hers. “Leaving behind that bastard who wouldn’t give you the magic bean was always something of a challenge, but you made me want to. Made it easier to do just that. Because eventually you do trust me, and you believe in me, and—”

He exhales. Licks his lips. Emma can’t move. “The thought of losing that terrified me,” Killian finishes. 

They’ve stopped dancing. Are standing stock-still in the middle of the floor, while other people twirl around and wait for them to get their rhythm back. And Killian doesn’t blink, which is equally frustrating and overwhelming and a much more positive adjective that Emma can’t be bothered with because she’s too busy saying, “I...like you?” “Was that a question?” “Maybe,” she admits, “it’s not really my forte, and I told Neal a bunch of shit in the Echo Caves too, so—is...did my parents name their kid after him?” “Yuh huh.” “Don’t sound particularly pleased.” “We’ll get to that,” Killian says, “Rehash the liking stuff, please.” Maybe laughing at inappropriate times is actually his greatest talent. Emma’s head drops, bumping Killian’s shoulder, but then there’s an arm back around her waist and there’s so much of him, and that’s always been the problem. Opposite of a problem, really. 

“You just—” Emma mutters. “Came back, for us and me and I...that kind of terrifies me too, but you always make sure if I'm ok, and that’s—not a ton of people do that.” “Becomes something of a habit.” “I’m going to ask you a question.” “Still don’t need to preface it.” “Are you Prince Charles in the story?”

Surprise is a good look on him. All of them are, but Emma’s already crossed one emotional threshold and like wasn’t really the word she was thinking about before. “Aye,” Killian says, soft enough that it’s difficult to hear. 

“Does that make me the princess?” “In almost every story I tell.”

The warmth moves to her cheeks, and the same skin Killian’s fingers graze, coming dangerously close to the edge of her mouth and barely parted lips. “So, uh,” Emma stammers, “not our first time travel adventure?” “Gets confusing when you haven’t done that other part yet.” “Time travel might be overrated, honestly. But we get back, right? That’s—I mean, you’re here.”

Nodding, his nose replaces his fingers and it’s oddly endearing. “If you remember this in the past, I refuse to be held accountable, alright?”

“Seems fair,” Emma laughs, and she thinks she hears him swallow before he responds. “You give up your magic, for me—which is something else I never entirely pay you back for, but then we get pulled into the portal, adventures ensue, including that very impressive spin move, and then your magic comes back.” “How?” “With that wand Regina used before, that’s why she thought it would work.” “You’re skipping over things,” she accuses, and flirting might not be the only two-way street. He’s getting easier to read. “Was that was it you? Helping with my magic?” Shrugging isn’t easy when they’re so tangled together, but Killian’s ears are as red as Ariel’s hair and Ruby’s highlights and—“The only reason I magic’ed that snowball was because I was holding onto you. Control’s not something I’ve got much of right now.” “You would have been able to figure it out.” “Not with a kid waiting, and all those people and—” Problems be damned. Lists be damned. Time itself, be goddamned. “Paying me back is a stupid thing to think.”

“Swan.” Shaking her head, Emma moves before she can reconsider how incredibly dumb this is and possibly even more dangerous, but he keeps staring at her and it’s so easy and normal, and if she were someone who breathed with any sort of regularity, that wold be an appropriate analogy. Killian shifts too, so that helps. 

And she definitely mumbles kiss me like some harlequin romance heroine, but he doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t object and the fingers that find her hair help ground her. To this plane of reality. Nice exists for about half a second, before it rather quickly evolves into need and desire and there are hands everywhere. Emma’s and Killian’s — tracing each other like this is the first time all over again, and her back arches once she clamors into his lap. 

Rocking down at the same time he rocks up draws out several sounds Emma’s never heard before, and would not mind hearing on loop. Fingers search out skin, pushing into the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck, and she can’t tilt her head enough. To get the right angle, or more of his tongue and his tongue’s already swiping at her lips. 

He groans again. When she opens her mouth, lets him trace as much as he’d like, and Emma would like even more, but she’s always been kind of greedy when it comes to him and really oxygen is vastly overrated. 

She can’t keep her eyes open. 

Can’t imagine how anything gets better than this, or them and there’s that pronoun again. 

Both of their shoulders heave when they finally have to pull apart, more black than blue in Killian’s eyes and— “We’re really good at that,” she mutters, working a laugh out of him. That he presses against her neck. And under her chin. Drags across her jaw, and up towards her temple, kissing whatever he can reach and everywhere he lands and it takes a power she did not know she possessed for Emma to keep herself from demanding he take his clothes off as well. 

She opts for the next best thing. “Thoughts on sleeping in your own bed?” 

The eyebrows, honestly. Flying up, and reacting quicker than he can respond and Killian kisses her. Soft and easy, and as normal as anything. “Vast,” he says, mostly into her mouth, “and it’s difficult to fall asleep without you, so it’d be nice to actually do that.” “Yeah, ok. That works.”

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Oh these beautiful, dirty boys. Thank you for blessing us. ❤️I have a request... I know you said in a previous answer that you're not into mpreg for these two, which I totally get, I don't see how it would work either. But since Sooga has such a domestic kink on top of a belly kink, any chance Kohga would just once (grudgingly) allow him to pretend his belly is big with a few babies, so Sooga gets his kinky fun in?

You can ABSOLUTELY have that, because lowkey Sooga has a paternal kink. Let’s fucking GO.

Sooga liked to think that he’d be a good father. Despite the fact that his own father was...heavy handed, he dreamt of being a kind, yet firm father to his children. Girl, boy, one or (preferably) twelve, he wanted to be a father, even at a young age. But, like many things in life, things required sacrifices. Sooga chose the man of his dreams, and he was a bit scared of touching women (or a lot), and would DEFINITELY be unable to get any woman pregnant. SO, no children by blood. That would leave adoption. Which would be possible, but upon looking at Kohga, it dawned on him, just how implausible that would be. Kohga was sitting there, humming and reading a new book. Kohga didn’t like responsibility. Didn’t like the idea of being tied down by anything, honestly. While it bothered Sooga a bit, this didn’t mean he’d change that in Kohga. He was lovely. Very, very lovely. He stopped organizing his things, and found himself right on top of Kohga, chin resting on his chest. His belly felt so soft against his own. Kohga looked away from his book, to look at his lovesick boy.

“Thought you were freak cleaning?”

“I just wanted to be near you.”

“Idiot.”

Kohga chuckled, returning to his book as he let Sooga be. That is, until Sooga spoke again.

“You know, I don’t like women.”

“No, thought you sucking my dick last night meant you were a total pussy magnet.”

“No no no, I’m going somewhere with this here,”

Kohga chuckled, putting the book down in order to see just where this was going. Sooga had been more open with his thoughts, and Kohga was amused when Sooga was in the midst of some rant/ramble.

“I’m saying, I don’t like women. But if YOU were a woman, I think I’d still really like you.”

That made Kohga damn near snort. Though the statement was odd, it was also really, really sweet.

“Well, thank you. In all honesty if I was a woman though, I’d be WAY too powerful. What made you bring this up anyway?”

Sooga said nothing for a moment, one hand carefully at his belly. So nice and rotund, his belly was.

“I was thinking about having a family, and how you’d make the cutest little pregnant wife.”

“Kids? With THIS body? Hell no. Even If I could, I’m not letting diaper butts ruin THIS swimsuit ready piece of ass.”

Sooga tried not to frown too much. He wasn’t surprised by his words, but the reality of the confirmation honestly hurt his poor, eager heart. Kohga seemed to catch onto this, sighing. The things you do for love.

“But...if it makes you stop your pouting, we can PRETEND you knocked me up. Does that make you feel better?”

Sooga tried not to leap out of bed. Kohga was not only supporting him, but supporting the idea of THEM, as a couple. Even though neither could get pregnant, the idea excited Sooga to no end. Kohga too it seemed, given how he pulled Sooga into a kiss.

“Now, why don’t you show me how you'd treat your pregnant little wife, eh?”

Was this Kohga’s thing? Not at all. But it didn’t matter, because it was SOOGA’s thing. Sooga leaned down to press his lips on his belly. One hand cupping his own crotch, Sooga’s hand carefully rubbed and massaged his big belly. Where to begin with a body so precious, so worthy of holding his young?

“You know, I’ve always wanted to have sons. Many, many sons. It’d be so nice if you had twins. Two precious, beautiful boys inside of you.”

Kohga rolled his eyes as Sooga’s lips roamed to his neck. It was sweet, but god was it mushy.

“Just give me fucking triplets, why don’t ya?”

He was kidding of course, but that seemed to REALLY get Sooga going, given the fact that he parted his legs, and rubbed his boner right against Kohga’s ass. He was getting greedy now, pulling at Kohga’s clothes (rather sloppily and clearly in a rush) in an attempt to get them off.

“Triplets! Three lovely, lovely boys, from my lovely, lovely love.”

“You’re SO into me, you’re not even making any sense now.”

“Not inside of you yet, Master Kohga.”

Kohga’s chuckle was swallowed up by Sooga’s lips, all while his hands finally got rid of those pesky, pesky clothes. Sooga pulled away, hands cupping and palming at his belly so carefully. But it wasn’t all sweetness; Kohga could see that lust in his greedy, greedy eyes (as if his hard cock wasn’t enough evidence). Kohga snickered.

“You are REALLY into the idea of knocking me up. Kinda cute, honestly. How often do you think about this?”

“Nearly everyday, to be truthful. You’d make a lovely, pregnant wife. We could get a big house, I could pamper you so you don’t have to lift a finger. You could just sleep all day, have my children, maybe make dinner-”

“Listing a lot of shit I gotta do, Sooga.”

Sooga chuckled, shaking his head. He should’ve been more romantic, maybe light a candle or get some lube, but he couldn’t help it. He slid himself right into his ass, lips at his neck, and hand feeling up his belly, as if he was expecting to feel something kick.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’d let you do anything you wanted. I’d hunt for us, I’d clean, I’d worship you, anything. In exchange for you to gift me with boys as beautiful and as strong as you.”

Sooga couldn’t help but start to move into Kohga, relishing in the fact that his movements started to please his wonderful husband. Kohga couldn’t help but laugh, arms wrapped around his neck, and just letting Sooga rut his cock in and out of him. Sure Sooga was annoying, sure he was a hopeless romantic, but Sooga had a HELL of a body, and Kohga wouldn’t change a thing.

“Okay, REAL stupid question here, especially given the fact that you’re railing your cock inside of m-me!”

Kohga had to take a second as Sooga’s hand (not the one affectionately rubbing at his tummy) grabbed firmly at his ass, which was such a goddamn weak spot for poor Kohga. He ignored how damn good it felt, trying to continue his thought, especially given the fact that Sooga was looking up at him with such eager, willing eyes.

“Okay thinking again, holy shit. You ever thought of names for these boys?”

That seemed to be just the thing that kept Sooga’s rutting, making the bed underneath them creak from his rather enthusiastic force.

“I definitely wanted one of them to be named after you. You have SUCH a pretty name.”

“That’s so stupid sweet-”

Kohga couldn’t finish his thought as he felt Sooga start to throb. God this idiot was SO close to cumming, all because he liked the idea of a big, happy family. So stupid. Even if the fact that Kohga was getting absolutely fucked right now, like how he deserved, it was stupid. Sooga didn’t last very long after that, sinking his teeth into his Master’s neck once he finally let himself go, and stuff Kohga’s ass full of cum. The dutiful man Sooga was, he didn’t let that stop him from finishing off Kohga; pumping his cock quickly in his hand, till he too, came right into his palm. The whole thing was quick, frantic, and Kohga loved it. Sooga panted once all was said and done, lightly shaking his head. He noticed some of his cum was dripping from him, and that made him swipe it up with his finger, before pulling himself out, and pushing his fingers inside of his ass.

“I wouldn’t want you losing any of this, Master Kohga. With this, you could make the most lovely, the most strong boys.”

“You just. Kinda want me to be pregnant and do nothing all day, is what I’m getting.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t sound like a BAD idea, does it?”

Kohga would have hesitations, but damn Sooga’s fingers in his freshly creamed ass REALLY hit the spot, so he did nothing but sit there, squirming a bit.

“I...guess not. We’d be hot as dilfs anyway.”

“What’s a dilf?”

“...I could fuck you a million times over, and you’re SOMEHOW still a fucking virgin, Sooga.”

He loved this man. Stupid as he was, he really and honestly loved him. Kohga was never a family man, but if he HAD to settle down and get some rugrats…

It’d definitely be with him.