#considering that I keep getting tongue tied and trip over my words constantly (as well as forgetting words constantly lol)

[luna-the-cretar]

I do also have to say that I love how much they kept from EOM, changing it slightly to fit better with the Crooked Moon locations and story. No spoilers for obvious reasons, but I will say that the hags order and locations remain mostly unchanged (except for the pigeon hag, but it’s not a huge change I don’t think), and some smaller things they took from EOM and altered it for the Crooked Moon.

And of course, there are the Fallen, which. I personally really like. The Fallen chapters I’ve taken notes on so far have been really fun reading through (Briggsy’s is very fun imo, it’s such a vibe), and ofc they fit so well with their EOM counterparts. I like how they took the Archbishop’s role and altered it to fit the Crimson Abbot (bc even just looking at the little Abbot clip in the Crooked Moon trailer, you can see the inspiration for the Abbot’s storyline beyond just Marius’ backstory).

Okay, okay, I’ll shut up about the Crooked Moon now. I just like it a lot. It’s very good and a very interesting read. I gotta give the Avantris crew that. I remember Mikey saying something in an old chill stream promoting the Crooked Moon that the book can just be read by itself even if it never gets played, and he is right about that. I’ve found myself genuinely getting invested into the storyline while I’m taking my notes, and I’ll forget to write anything for a few minutes because I’m just. Reading it. It’s a very good read, I gotta say.

Rewatching EOM after I’m halfway through my Crooked Moon notes is so fucked, because not only do I understand the setting and the enemies a little more, but also I’m just realizing that the beast stalking them in the woods is almost certainly the Horned King from the Crooked Moon.

And I mostly say that because in his chapter in the Crooked Moon, one of the descriptions a player can get if they pass a perception check is a bit of black fur that moves between the trees. Like the description Nikkie gives Kelsey in episode 6 when Farryn rolled high on a perception check on their way to the mine.

Ough. I am so normal about EOM and I am very normal about the Crooked Moon.

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

“Maybe stealing from an interdimensional diplomat wasn’t my greatest idea,” Gavin thought to himself from his current position in a jail cell.

He’d been hesitant about the job right away. Stealing from humans was one thing, but stealing from alteons was on a whole new level. However, the payment the client had offered Gavin had been too tantalizing to refuse. Who knew it was bad to be greedy?

��Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. How was he supposed to know the diplomat would have some weird magical artifact thing that could detect and identify trespassers? That was just unfair. Gavin was a good thief, so good that he’d managed to make a career out of it. If he had been caught due to his own ineptitude maybe he wouldn’t be so peeved. But this was just a matter of not having enough information. Thus making it unfair.

Prison was something every criminal feared, but it was also something every criminal prepared for in some sense. If Gavin was headed for prison, he might not be so worried. Sure it would suck, but at least he felt sure his undeniable charms would make him friends in no time. But Gavin wasn’t headed for prison--no, he was being extradited to the alteon dimension.

Gavin shivered at the thought. Despite having stolen from one, he had never actually seen an alteon in person. Pictures and videos could only do so much, at least that’s what people said. Apparently the true gravity of an alteon’s massive size couldn’t be understood until you saw one in real life.

Not only would Gavin quite literally be put in the hands of an alteon, but he would also be getting taken to a completely different dimension that only a few very important humans had ever visited before. Maybe he should’ve felt special.

Were the circumstances different, Gavin might’ve even felt excited for the adventure. His work had taken him all over the world, it would be thrilling to get to see a whole new one. However, he had a feeling he wouldn’t exactly be getting the grand tour.

It was at that moment that Gavin began to hear footsteps approaching his cell. A few moments later, two business-suit clad federal agents appeared. Gavin scrambled to his feet and took several unconscious steps towards the back wall. The key jangling in one of the agents’ hands told him exactly what time it was.

“Your ride is here,” the female agent announced, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Gavin scowled.

The key carrying agent swiftly unlocked the door and beckoned for Gavin to exit the cell. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he stated impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me or something?” Gavin questioned, taking note of the fact that neither agent had brought handcuffs with them.

The woman’s smirk grew but she remained silent. “The alteon won’t need cuffs to restrain you,” the man responded.

Gavin instantly felt the pit of fear in his stomach grow. Horrible images of himself trapped in gigantic hands were invading his mind. Being given over to the alteons meant that his civil rights would be essentially irrelevant. Unless alteons had laws protecting humans, which he doubted, then they could do pretty much whatever they wanted with him. Gavin swallowed hard.

“A-actually, I’m okay staying here…” he stammered. God, he hated how pathetic he sounded. Gavin’s line of work required a lot of guts, and while a healthy dose of caution was always good, he had never considered himself to be cowardly in any sense of the word. But now...well now he felt like the biggest fraidy cat in the whole world.

The male agent gave Gavin what almost seemed like a sympathetic look. “Sorry, but that’s not an option,” he said, once again making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Dad was right. I should’ve become a doctor,” Gavin thought miserably to himself as he very reluctantly exited his cell.

The trip up from the cell block to the roof of the building pretty much felt like a march to death. Federal employees stared unabashedly at the man practically being sacrificed to giants. Some wore looks of pity, while others had smug expressions on their faces, as if to say “serves him right.” Were Gavin in a better mood he probably would have scowled at the nosy jerks, or at least stuck his tongue out at them. But as things were, he was in no mood.

~

Rael sighed as he shifted his feet impatiently. It didn’t elude him that every human in the vicinity stiffened at his movement. He refrained from rolling his eyes. It was irritating how the humans constantly acted so skittish all the time, as if he would suddenly go on some sort of rampage.

“Why did they have to give me this assignment?” Rael mentally groaned.

Unlike many of the members of the Imperial Guard, he hadn’t joined with some idiotic fantasy of glorious duels and honorable battlescars. Rael joined because he knew it was the easiest way to elevate his station. Plus standing guard at the palace was easy work that he was perfectly content with. That’s why he had been less than pleased when he'd been informed he would have to venture to the human dimension to retrieve some human criminal.

Prior to today, Rael had only seen a human once, it had been from a distance and only for a second as they were being escorted into the palace. Therefore, he’d had no personal reason to dislike humans. It was just that from everything he had heard about them, they sounded so...annoying. And so far, his experiences with them today had proven that to be fairly accurate.

Rael suppressed a sigh as he glanced around. Thankfully the building he’d been told to go to was at the edge of a human city, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with civilians gawking at him. The federal agents gathered on the roof in front of him were bad enough.

The stories about how giant being in the human realm would make you feel rang true. Rael felt positively colossal next to people who looked to be barely taller than his fingers. Not to mention the building he was standing beside, which appeared to be three stories, reached no higher than his knees. “Humans are lucky our imperialistic urges died a century ago,” Rael thought. Taking over the human realm would no doubt be a piece of cake, even with their supposed technological advancements.

“Sir!” Rael’s attention was caught by the shout of one of the humans standing on the roof below. He looked down to see the speaker was the woman who appeared to be in charge. “We apologize for the wait, the prisoner is being brought up now,” she announced. It was almost amusing, the way they had to yell for their tiny voices to even be perceived by him.

“Good,” Rael responded simply, electing not to mention the fact that the prisoner should’ve been ready and waiting for him when he arrived.

After a few minutes, Rael caught sight of the door on the roof entrance swing open. Three humans stepped out. The two dressed similarly to all the other federal agents practically had to drag the third one out. It was difficult for Rael to see from so far away, but the odd one out appeared to be a young man. He had light skin, a crop of messy brown hair, and appeared to be quite slim.

Rael raised a single eyebrow. “This is the prisoner?” he questioned as he eyed the man. He didn’t look like much, which was applicable to pretty much all humans, but Rael found it hard to believe that this one could’ve successfully stolen from an alteon.

“Yes, sir!” replied the woman in charge. “His name is Gavin Stone, he’s believed to be associated with many high profile robberies,” she explained.

Rael spared the human called “Gavin Stone” one last look before giving a shrug and reaching for the miniature iron cage attached to his belt.

The cage, which had been especially made for this occasion, was quite simple in its construction. The thing didn’t even have a lock because the latch to open the door was too big for a human’s miniscule hands to manage. It would do perfectly for keeping the criminal contained throughout the duration of the trip back to the palace.

The moment Gavin had laid eyes on the alteon, his body had practically separated from his mind. Physically, he was moving forward with the guidance of his two escorts, but his mind was still struggling to process the impossibly large person looming above him.

If the alteon’s size wasn’t strange enough, the guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance Fair or something. His skin was a soft brown color, and he had long black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail behind him. His eyes were a striking teal color that stood out against his angular features. As for his clothing, he looked to be wearing what appeared to be some kind of light leather armor over top of a forest green tunic. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that he had pointy elf ears.

Gavin had known the alteon dimension was almost medieval in nature, and he’d known the alteons had pointy ears, but it was still so damn bizarre to see in person.

As Gavin was in the middle of gaping, the giant began to move. He flinched at the action, and he noticed everyone else on the rooftop tense up as well. Clearly nobody was comfortable around this--this thing! “How can they hand me over to that?!”

It wasn’t until he had been practically shoved to the edge of the roof that Gavin’s brain caught up with what his body had been doing. Frantically he looked around him. All of the agents, including his former escorts, had backed away from the edge of the building closest to the alteon. This left Gavin stranded, with a giant man a mere few feet away.

With a hard gulp, Gavin tilted his head back to look up at the creature who was about to snatch him away. Those teal eyes were glancing down at him, and in his hand was a cage the perfect size for holding a stupid human who really should’ve just become a damn doctor.

[darthkruge]

Could you write a cute sequel to the Padawan! Anakin and Padawan! Reader oneshot, where they have a secret wedding two years later?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 2)

Summary: Two years after their first kiss, Padawan!Anakin and Padawan!Reader return to the gardens of Naboo for their wedding

Warnings: Nothing. Once again, this is fluff. A bit more emotions thrown in this time, but cute fluff nonetheless!

Words: 1.6k

A/N: I can’t believe someone requested a sequel for one of my fics!! That’s so exciting!! The first part is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written and I hope I did justice with the second <3. Also! You don’t need to have read the first part to understand this. But I do think it makes it more fun, as I kinda tied them together :)

Part 1

gif credit

“Can you believe we made it?” 

Anakin’s voice broke you out of your trance. You were sitting on the grass and leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder with his arms hugging you from behind. The palace’s gardens once again surrounded you; the familiar fresh, flowery scent intoxicating. 

You hummed, turning your head up and looking at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Hi,” His voice held his laughter, teasing.

“Hi,” You replied, mirroring his happiness. 

You connected your lips with his, both of you grinning into the kiss. His metal hand came up, fingers gently holding your jaw as he deepened the kiss. Your mind wandered, remembering your first kiss. Here. 

You were pulled back to the present as his tongue gently swiped across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him access. As he swirled his tongue around yours, your head spun. Your hands wove into his hair and pulled on the back of it lightly, making him groan into you. You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around so that you were straddling his thighs. You broke from his lips, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck. 

Missing the feeling of your lips, he pulled you back up, reconnecting them with his own. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you couldn’t anymore, breaking apart only once you were positively breathless. You leaned your forehead against his, chests heaving as you relaxed.

“We’re gonna be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that” 

You lightly smacked his chest, throwing your head back and gaping in mock-offense. “Now who’s the one that shoved their tongue down my throat?”

“Well I guess that’d have to be me… considering you haven’t kissed anyone else…” He trailed off, looking at you somewhat sheepishly to gauge your reaction

“Anakin! That is rude! And unkind! And completely accurate, you kriffing asshole!” You said, laughing the entire time. Anakin joined in, sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t mad at him. 

“Rude and unkind? I’d say that’s slightly dramatic, Y/N”

“And where do you think I picked up the dramatic flair, hmm?” You shot back, quirking your eyebrows and glaring at him playfully.

Anakin rolled his eyes but, intelligently, didn’t argue. He just chuckled, pulling you back in for another kiss. You obliged but quickly pulled away, laughing as he pouted at you.

“Now, come on! We’re going to be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that!” You said, mocking him.

You got up and started skipping away before he could retort, smiling as you heard his footsteps scrambling to catch up with you. He pulled your hand into his, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss against your cheek. 

He pulled you forward and you laughed as he stopped to spin you around. Your breath caught as you felt yourself tripping over your own feet and squealed as you came in contact with Anakin’s strong chest.

You buried your face into him and he rubbed up and down your arms. As he peppered kisses into your hair, you did the same on his collarbone. Moments like this were what you wished you could live in forever. Just two people in love. Without the pressure of the Jedi, the Council, any of it. You wished you didn’t need to hide your relationship, your happiness. But you truly believed that any sacrifice would be worth keeping Anakin in your life. 

It had taken months of planning to even get the time to slip away with Anakin. Luckily, the Council thought you and Anakin worked well together and frequently allowed you to go on missions together. Granted, you both usually ended up in front of the Council trying to justify why you disobeyed their orders on these missions. Even if it was your idea, Anakin would always try to take the blame, despite you constantly telling him it was unnecessary. However, Anakin did have a point when he said that he was the Chosen One; they wouldn’t expel him from the order because of a series of poor decisions. He said that even if you didn’t have the Council’s protection, you could count on his.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. That’s why those fights never lasted. Most of your fights were like that. Silly, stupid arguments that almost always boiled down to the fear of losing each other. And, by the next morning, you were always curled back in bed together, unable to bear the idea of being apart. 

“Y/N?” 

You looked up, shaking yourself out of your own head.

“Yeah?”

Anakin looked at you quizzically. “You alright, my love?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded. “Perfect.”

You were about to marry the most perfect man in the entire world. Kind, beautiful, giving, protective, understanding, flawed, yours. As if “perfect” even began to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t sure anything could. When you joined the Jedi Order, you never thought you’d get this. Love. And yet, here you were. 

Anakin leaned in, kissing your nose. “Me, too,” He whispered in your ear.

You walked up to the secluded altar where Obi-Wan, R2D2, and C3-PO stood. You thanked the stars for Obi-Wan; he had done so much to ensure that your secret stayed that way and you could successfully marry the love of your life. 

You stood, looking at Anakin. He held your hands and you gave his a squeeze. It was a signal that had developed over the years; whenever one of you needed reassurance or just wanted to remind them that you loved them, you’d squeeze the other’s hand. As per usual, he immediately returned the gesture. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Y/N, would you like to go first?”

You looked at him, mouthing a quick “thank you” and nodding. He smiled right back. Obi-Wan had become a good friend of yours over the years. You were quite grateful that he was here on this wondrous day. 

You took a deep breath, looking into Anakin’s deep eyes. “Anakin, when I first met you I thought you were reckless, arrogant at times, insubordinate…” You trailed off as he gave you an amused look, clearly wondering where you were going with this. 

“Gorgeous,” You added in, “and, truly, so much more. Now, while I still think of you that way, I’ve grown to love it. You inspire me, you believe in me, you understand me in a way that I thought was impossible for one person to understand another. You’re strong and loving and you always keep me safe. You make me laugh and smile and giddy and… happy. I still remember, two years ago, when you made me choke an apple and kissed me, all in one day. And that feeling I had when our lips first touched, it has remained, constant, since that moment. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t want to put that off for another second.”

Anakin’s eyes were misty with tears by the time you finished speaking. It was hard for him to fathom -- that he’d found someone who cared about him that much. For once in his life, he believed that there was someone who wouldn’t leave. 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a knowing smile before asking him to begin.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re perfect, you’re… everything. You challenge me, by the Maker, you challenge me,” Anakin said as you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “And you’re strong and good and selfless. You’ve always seen the good in me, sometimes even when  I didn’t deserve it. You sought to know me for who I am, not for what I could bring to the galaxy.” Anakin paused, looking into your eyes. He swallowed, long and hard, before going on. 

“And I know this wasn’t the relationship you dreamed of. I know I can’t give you much of anything. But I promise that for the rest of our lives I will be right here, by your side. I will love you for as long as this life allows, and for a thousand after that.” 

Tears streaked down both your cheeks, making everything else fade away. The weight of his words sat heavily on your heart; his love for you so powerful it was nearly overwhelming. But that seemed to be a theme in your relationship, didn’t it? Everything right on that edge, so close to falling apart. And yet you and Anakin balanced each other. You wouldn’t crumble. 

You once again traveled back to when all this started. You remember thinking, perhaps foolishly, that you and Anakin would make it. That one in a million couple. You thanked the entire galaxy that you were right.

You looked at Obi-Wan only to see that he was grinning at the both of you. He’d had his suspicions about you two for months before he eventually caught you kissing after you returned from a long mission. Anakin swore up and down that he “fell on you” and was “tending to your injuries” but Obi-Wan just brushed away the excuses and assured the both of you he would keep your secret. 

“You may now… kiss each other. If you so desire,” Obi-Wan said before averting his eyes.

Anakin looked at you, adoration clear in his vision. He held your gaze and gently cupped your cheek. “So… can I kiss you?”

You rolled your eyes, laughed, and leaned in. 

-----

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[rawmeanderson]

pretty please ― saturday.

ft. Kevin Hayes plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, body issues, soft Nolan Patrick content. there’s quite a bit of smut in this tbh. word count: 8.6k many thanks to @danglesnipecelly​ for proof reading and putting up with my ridiculous typos 

THURSDAY / FRIDAY You didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning and never feeling like you actually got beyond dozing. Guilt was eating at you, even as you slept, and at one point, you opened your eyes and saw the first bits of daylight peaking through the window. There was a certain numbness to you, as when you rolled over, trying to get back to sleep, you realized you were parched.

Sitting up, you stretched for a moment before getting out of bed. You felt like running. Not like, physically running, but running away from the cabin, from the conversation you were going to avoid for as long as you could. When you checked your phone, you saw that it was barely 7:00am, and you yawned, forcing yourself out of bed anyway. A walk might do you some good, let you wear off some of this anxious energy so you could get more sleep later.

You changed out of your pjs and into a pair of jean shorts and a clean shirt, stuffing your feet into your sandals as you went across the hall to brush your teeth. Your hair was an absolute mess, but you just tied it up in a bun, deciding to deal with it later. 

To say you tiptoed past Kevin’s door on the way to the living room was an understatement. You wondered if he was awake, or if he’d woken up at all in the night and realized you’d left. Your palm itched as your eyes settled on the doorknob, shoving down the urge to go inside and slip into bed with him, but you kept moving. 

The living room and kitchen were empty when you got there, and the cabin seemed peaceful despite the way your brain was running wild. You got yourself a glass of water, leaning back against the cabinet as you sipped at it. Really, you were poised to sprint out the door if you heard any sign of Kevin, your shoulders tense as your heart thundered in your chest. Coffee was already brewing, so someone had to be up already. 

You heard voices a moment later, the sound of footsteps, and just as your fight or flight instincts had you ready to bolt, you realized that it was Nolan and the friend of Jimmy’s whose name you never remembered coming out of the garage. They had fishing poles in their hand, among other things, and Nolan nodded to you in acknowledgement. 

“Morning,” you said, refilling your glass of water as Nolan put down the things in his hands to reach for a mug from the cabinet. He kind of grumbled in response, and you didn’t take it personally as he filled the mug with coffee. “Are you guys going fishing? Like, off the boat?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” no name responded, nodding as he got a cup of coffee for himself. 

“Can I come?” you asked before you really thought about it. “I mean, I won’t fish, I’ll just sit there and read. I’ll even keep my mouth shut so I don’t scare away the fish or whatever.” What better way to avoid the problem you created than by sitting in the middle of the lake for a few hours. 

The two guys looked at each other and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. We’ll be out there for a few hours,” Nolan said, sipping at his coffee as he shrugged again. “We’re leaving in a few.”

You nodded, finishing your glass of water. “Alright, cool,” you responded, deciding that the awkwardness of a silent fishing trip with two people you barely knew was better than the chance of running into Kevin in the next few hours. “I’m gonna grab some stuff from my room, I’ll meet you guys down at the water.”

When you ran to grab your sunglasses and your iPad from your room, the rational whisper in the back of your mind told you this was a dumb idea, that you needed to put on your big girl panties and deal with it. You were too panicked to listen to yourself though, and you tiptoed past Kevin’s door again on your way out of the cabin. Making your way down to the dock, you texted Sophie to tell her you were going out on the boat, and that Nolan and what’s his name were waiting for you.

No one said much as you settled yourself at the opposite end of the boat from them, putting your feet up as the boat pulled away from the dock. The sky was overcast, but you wore your sunglasses anyway, looking out at the water with a sigh. You opened your book on your iPad, but never really got around to reading. The guys decided on a fishing spot, and the boat came to a stop. 

Your mind was cycling, thinking about what needed done at your apartment in the next few weeks ahead of Sophie moving out, thinking about the meeting you had to be in on Tuesday morning, thinking about almost anything besides the 6’5” man you’d slipped out on the night before. As soon as your mind even started to drift to him, you corrected course by thinking about something boring and menial. 

After an hour on the water, you started to realize why people might enjoy fishing. None of you had said a word since leaving the dock, and if your mind wasn’t an anxiety ridden frenzy right now, you’d probably find being on the boat rather peaceful. Nolan had moved seats, sitting closer to your end of the boat as he cast his line into the water. 

You finally did your best to start reading, but after reading the same page four times and still remembering none of it, you promptly gave up. Glancing at your phone, you remembered that your service was hit or miss on the water, and maybe that was a good thing. Feeling a little fidgety, you turned in your seat, leaning against the railing to look out at the water again. All you had to do was withstand another 32 hours or so of avoiding Kevin, then you and Sophie would be on your way home and you could go back to pretending he didn’t exist.

It was the sound of Nolan’s voice after a while that zapped you back to the present. When you looked at him, he was already watching you and you blinked. 

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” you asked, eyebrows raised. You could feel your cheeks warm as you straightened up in your seat. 

“Uh, yeah. I asked if you were good, considering you’ve been staring at the same spot of nothing for close to 45 minutes,” he responded, actually chuckling a little bit. You didn’t want to believe you’d been staring off into space for that long, but you checked your phone and it had actually been longer.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what to say. Your response surely told him everything he needed to know, so you didn’t bother trying to act like you were having an awesome morning. “I’ll be okay.”

Nolan nodded, eyes moving back to watch the fishing line. You expected that to be the end of it, and you were already turning your head back to look out at the water again when he spoke. “Is this about Kevin?”

You froze, shoulders tense as you took a deep breath. Looking at him again, you were surprised by how direct he was about it. You hardly knew him, so you weren’t sure how much of your soul you were willing to bare to him in the middle of a lake.

“Kind of,” you said finally, looking down at your lap and picking a piece of invisible fuzz off your shorts. You were being truthful. Kevin was the immediate issue, but of course, it all stemmed back to the fact that you were about to be the last of the group left in New York.

Nolan was quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was trying to figure out what to do next. After a moment’s thought, he sighed, reeling in his fishing line before getting to his feet and moving closer to where you were sitting. That surprised you more than the fact that he was speaking to you to begin with, and you straightened up in your seat when you noticed that his brow was creased still.

“So, Kev’s probably gonna kill me for telling you all of this, but I don’t see much point in you both being miserable for the rest of the trip because you’re both too afraid to talk about your feelings,” he started, looking at you pointedly enough that you felt like a kid getting a talking to from their teacher. When you didn’t say anything to stop him, he continued.

“I met you two days ago, but I’ve known about you since my third conversation with Kevin. He talks about you all the time. The whole reason he invited me this weekend was because he wanted me to meet you. He invited a few others too, just to meet you, but they weren’t able to make it,” he told you, and you knew your eyes were wide as you listened to him. 

“Well, hopefully I lived up to the hype,” you said, exhaling a breath of humorless laughter.

“I’m undecided, so far,” he responded, his tone flat as the corner of his mouth twitched up in a grin that put you a little more at ease. “He hasn’t gone on more than 2 dates with someone since he got to Philly because he compares them all to you. I know, because I live with him, and he whines about it constantly. I had to stop him from drunk dialing you about nine times last year, then he’d go on and on about how he just wanted to go up to New York and see you, and that he was happy to be in Philly because he was closer to you again. He misses you, and he’s crazy about you, but he’s either too fucking dumb to realize it or too scared to say anything to you about it.”

You ran your tongue along your teeth as you thought over what Nolan had said, and you were grateful that he’d paused to give you a chance to process all of it. The words had surprised you, that was for sure, but thinking back to yesterday and last night...he was never this sweet with you before. Sure, there’d been some light flirting here and there between hook ups, but he’d never seemed to want you this badly before. You thought back to the other night and what he’d said about the two of you dating. This was all stupid, you decided, and you didn’t really know what to think.

“From the things he’s said, I don’t think he fully realized how he felt about you until he was traded to Winnipeg, and then he didn’t know what to do about it,” Nolan said with pursed lips, like he somehow could read your mind. 

You were grateful that your sunglasses were on, because you felt tears burning in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed, glancing out at the water again. You hated this feeling, the sinking in your stomach of not knowing what to do, not knowing how to fix the whole situation. Sniffling, you took another deep breath and looked at Nolan again.

“Well, since you’re obviously smarter than both of us, any advice on what to do?” you asked finally, your throat tight with the threat of tears. He looked pleased with the compliment, then continued.

“It’s so painfully obvious to everyone that you’re both waiting on the other to make the first more, so I say just talk to him. You know he’s a good dude, you know he just wants you to be happy, so you both just need to find the time to talk about what’s going on,” he said, shrugging again. Talking about things like this clearly wasn’t his strong suit, but you appreciated the effort that he was making to help you out.

Nodding, you looked down at your lap momentarily, checking your phone again. Sophie had texted you, saying Kevin was looking for you, followed by a sad face, asking what happened last night. You’d respond to those later, after you had time to process your emotions a little more.

“Thanks for this, really,” you said, hoping you sounded as sincere as you felt. 

“You can thank me by getting him to shut up about how much he misses you,” Nolan told you, letting out a dry laugh. “I guess I get the hype, kind of, but Philly and New York are close enough that the only thing keeping you guys apart is the fact that you like to avoid each other instead of talking about it.” You snorted softly, glad to see that he at least had a sense of humor about it.

“I’m glad he had you at least, to whine to enough that you took matters into your own hands,” you told him and he gave you a genuine smile with a nod. 

“I had a rough year too. Kev did a lot for me, so this is just me trying to repay him.” 

You both fell silent then, looking out at the water. It was nearly 10:30 by then. You hadn’t read a single page of your book, but your mind wasn’t racing anymore. Now, the thought of talking to Kevin didn’t make you want to hide, and you decided that was a good start.

Half an hour later, the guys decided they’d had enough fishing and started packing up to head back. Despite your better attitude, nervousness fluttered in your stomach, but you knew you’d survive talking to Kevin, just like you had survived for the last year and a half of carrying around all of the feelings. You made a plan for yourself and felt good about it: get up to the cabin, shower, then find Kevin to fix the problem. 

Your plan immediately went out the door when you realized that Kevin was already sitting on the dock waiting for you. When you looked at Nolan, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up slightly and you gather that he must’ve texted him that you guys were heading back. Nolan raised his eyebrows at you with a look that said ‘if you don’t figure this out, you’re dead to me,’ and you clenched your jaw.

The boat docked a minute later, and the guy who’s name you really should remember started toward the cabin while Nolan stood on the dock for a short moment, talking to Kevin before taking off as well. You stayed where you were as he stepped onto the boat, and when you took your sunglasses off, you realized that your hands were shaking. It was nice to better understand how he felt about you, but that didn’t stop the flood of emotions that rose in you when you looked at him. 

Kevin looked tired, like he’d slept as poorly as you had, and a wave of guilt made your stomach churn. He stood there for a minute, hands in his pockets and neither of you really seemed to know what to say. “Can I sit down?” he asked eventually, nodding to the spot next to you. 

You could feel your bottom lip quivering, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you managed to say without your voice breaking. When he sat down, he turned toward you slightly, close enough that his leg was touching yours. By the time you forced yourself to meet his eye, your vision was blurry with tears, your mouth drawn in a tight line. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he reached for your hand. The contact was all it took for the tears to spill over and you wiped at them quickly with your other hand.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sniffling as you looked away from him. He squeezed your hand tightly, bringing the other up to cup your face, guiding you to look at him. “I’m sorry I left last night, I should’ve stayed.”

“Jesus, what did Nolan tell you? Why are you crying?” he asked, looking concerned as his thumb swept over your cheek.

“I’m just so sad,” you admitted, stifling a sob as you avoided his eyes. Your face was hot, because you were upset and because you were embarrassed by the fact that you were such a blubbering mess all of a sudden.

“What, about last night?” Now he really looked concerned, and it actually made you let out a breath of laughter as you shook your head. Kevin looked relieved by your reaction, and easily pulled you into his lap before you could say anything else. His arms were tight around you, holding you against his chest as he sighed quietly.

The way he was holding you made you feel so small and so secure, and you just stayed like that for a moment with your face pressed into his neck. “I’m just sad about everything right now, I guess,” you admitted, shifting enough to wrap your arm around him as well as you leaned into his chest. “I’m sad about Sophie again, I’m sad we’re all leaving tomorrow. I’m sad you got traded to begin with, and I’m sad I wasted a year and a half being too scared to talk to you.” Your voice was raw with emotion and tears started spilling down your cheeks again no matter how hard you tried to stop them.

“Why were you scared to talk to me?” he asked, his lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand moved over your back in a firm motion that was hypnotically soothing, making you feel safe to spill your heart out as he held you.

You sniffled, shrugging as you took a shuddering breath. “I just didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t know where we stood or how you felt. I don’t look like the girls you usually date, so I thought that whenever we hooked up that it had just been out of boredom, since it was always at the end of a night out. I figured you’d be too busy getting settled and I guess I felt like I cared more about you than you cared about me.” You felt bad admitting it after hearing what Nolan had had to say, and you couldn’t help the way your voice was shaking as you spoke. 

Kevin’s hand slid along your jaw gently, bringing your face up to look at him. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It was never out of boredom either, I spent so long trying to figure out how to get your attention,” he told you, practically whispering the words. He kissed you softly, his lips just barely brushing over yours. “I was scared to talk to you too, but I shouldn’t have let that stop me.”

Determined to stop crying, you wiped your eyes, already tilting your head enough to kiss him again. Your eyes moved over his face like you were committing it to memory, letting your knuckles drag over the stubble that covered his jawline. “And why on earth were you scared to talk to me?” you asked, your throat still tight even after the tears had stopped.

“Because you’ve always been way too cool and smart for me, and I was so close to finally working up the nerve to ask you out when I got traded,” he told you, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers were still moving up and down your back in a way that made you want to press closer to him and just stay like that for the rest of the day. “Once I was in Winnipeg, I didn’t really know what to say to you either. I didn’t know what your feelings were about us, and I didn’t know how to even bring it up. I don’t think I even knew how badly I wanted there to be an us until I was already in Winnipeg. Since I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up once the season ended, it didn't feel fair to you to drag you into something long distance.”

“Then you signed to Philly,” you said softly, feeling tears fill your eyes again as your head settled on his shoulder. 

“Yep, I signed to Philly, then each time I was in New York last summer, you never came around. I figured you had moved on or something, or that you hadn’t felt the same way to begin with.”

He kissed the top of your head and fell silent, both of you letting everything hang between you for a few moments. You still felt sad and angry with yourself, but at least him holding you like he was made it easier to let go of those feelings. 

“What do we do now?” you asked eventually, though really you were content to stay there all day, soaking in the warmth of the sun and Kevin’s body. He seemed to be enjoying the contact as much as you were, and didn’t answer right away.

“Well, are you hungry?” He pulled back a little to look down at you, eyes sweeping over your tear stained face. You nodded quickly, realizing that it was nearly noon and you hadn’t eaten anything that morning. “There’s a restaurant down the road a bit, we can go get lunch if you want, and this is me making it clear that it would be a date.”

Snorting, you grinned, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I like that idea,” you said, kissing him softly. You only pulled back enough to look at him briefly, but his mouth found yours again, making you smile. “I want to take a shower first though, then we can go.”

“Good, you need it,” he responded, already laughing by the time you poked him in the ribs. Before you could shoot something snarky back, he kissed you again, harder this time to make you groan into his mouth. When you pulled back again, you got to your feet, knowing that otherwise, you’d never want to move. 

Lunch was wonderful, honestly. After your shower, Kevin drove you to the restaurant, his arm stretched over the center console to hold your hand. As you ate, he told you about his favorite spots in Philly and about his teammates, and you talked about your family and the ongoing drama at your office. Admittedly, you had one too many mimosas, leaving you giggling as Kevin nudged your foot gently under the table.

As soon as you made it back to the cabin, Sophie was hugging you so tightly that it hurt. Jimmy eventually got her to let go and you laughed as she made you promise to sit with her at dinner. On the way back from lunch, you and Kevin had decided a nap was in order since you’d both slept like shit, and you let him pull you into his room with a grin. 

The making out was kept to a minimum, both of you tired and full from lunch, but it still felt nice to curl up with him, knowing you had nothing else to be doing. With your head on his chest, he asked if you wanted to put a movie on or anything, and you just shook your head sleepily, pressing your face into his neck. His arm was around you, keeping you curled against him, and it occurred to you that this was the first time you’d fallen asleep with him. He kept kissing the top of your head like he was realizing the same thing, murmuring to you that you made him happy. 

The sound of your phone vibrating beside you woke you up a few hours later. Kevin was still asleep, and you stretched as much as you could without disturbing him as you reached for your phone. It was Sophie, as nosey as ever, wanting to be filled in on how lunch had gone, and you grinned to yourself as you texted her back. You stayed put for a while, happy to be right where you were as Kevin continued to doze.

When he woke up, it was with a loud yawn, rolling onto his side and taking you with him. You laughed as he spooned you, immediately pressing his face into the back of his neck. 

“Don’t go back to sleep,” you warned, rubbing your hand over his forearm where it was looped tightly around you.

“Why not?” he murmured, his voice deeper than usual and thick with grogginess. 

“Because we’ll be up all night if we sleep too late,” you told him matter of factly, shivering as he nosed at your hairline lightly.

“Maybe I was planning to keep you up half the night anyway,” he countered. The laugh you let out bled into a soft moan as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth gently. Your body leaned back against him more, just barely pressing your thighs together when arousal jolted through you.

“Jesus, Kev,” you said, enjoying the soft rumble of laughter that left him. You were both quiet for a moment after that, your heart racing as he alternated between kissing your skin and nuzzling against you.

“What time are you and Soph leaving tomorrow?” he asked, his hand sliding over your waist. He brushed his thumb against the band of your bra lightly, like he was trying to be casual about it and you grinned at the contact. 

“Between 3 and 4, I think,” you responded, squirming as his hand slid over your stomach. Your breathing had quickened from the light touches, and if it didn’t feel so good, you would hate how easily he was able to turn you on. 

“Good.” The word was short, and he said it as his fingers toyed with the button of your shorts. His mouth was still against your neck and you could feel him smirking into your skin. Your mouth was dry, your heart fluttering in your chest as your hips pressed back toward him. You murmured his name impatiently, enjoying that you could feel the hardening outline of his dick against your ass, when a knock at the door made you both jump.

“Kevin, stop hogging Y/N for yourself!” Sophie said from the other side of the door, voice slightly raised as she knocked again. You let out a loud laugh, leaning back against him as he sighed. 

“Finders keepers, Sophie!” he responded as he loosened his hold on you.

“We’ll be out in a minute, chill, Soph,” you said finally, your heart still racing from the touches that surely would’ve gone further had you not been interrupted.

Sophie’s response was to walk away, and you laughed as you sat up. You knew your cheeks were flushed and your hair was probably a mess from your nap, but you were smiling as you looked back at Kevin who was still stretched out along the mattress. 

“Maybe I should’ve warned you that she knew I was awake,” you teased, leaning over him to press a quick kiss to his mouth.

“Mhm, maybe,” Kevin hummed, his hand sliding along your jaw before he kissed you again. You pulled away quickly after that before he could pull you back down to him, because you knew that if Sophie came back, she wouldn’t hesitate to open the door. 

It was a really good evening, honestly. Brady, Jimmy, and Kevin all seemed a little down that it was the last night of the trip and that they probably wouldn’t see each other for a while. You played cards and pong, maintaining a slight buzz through dinner, where you next to Sophie as promised. Kevin was essentially glued to your side, mostly keeping his hands to himself despite the way he was looking at you. 

One simple grin from him had fire jolting up your spine, leaving you to think about his hands on you, the way they squeezed your waist, and the tight grip of them in your hair when you went down on him. He had even texted you at one point, telling you he was thinking about how good you tasted, that he couldn’t wait to be inside you later. Of course, he’d been sitting right next to you when he’d sent it and watched for your reaction, even when you’d been in the middle of talking with Brady about his new place in Raleigh. You’d stumbled over your words a little after reading the message, your cheeks flushing as your clit throbbed. 

Just like every other night of the trip, someone got a fire going once it was dark. Jimmy and Brady were both a little past drunk by then, making s’mores under Sophie’s supervision. You grinned as you watched, letting Kevin pull you into his lap. He kissed your shoulder through your shirt, then the curve of your neck and you leaned back into him. You were quiet, not really having anything to say as you simply enjoyed the togetherness of having your favorite people all in one spot. It was bittersweet, but it no longer felt like the end of the world, especially with Kevin’s warmth as he held you in his lap.

His hands started wandering a bit eventually, brushing his thumb over the clasp of your bra and letting his knuckles graze over your spine. You repaid him by shifting in his lap casually here and there, making sure your ass pressed against his lap to make him grip your hips in a plea to stop. He said your name at one point and kissed you when you turned your head to glance back at him, and you realized that was the first time he’d done that in front of other people. Brady was quick to make a comment that it was about fucking time, rolling his eyes dramatically before giving Kevin a thumbs up. 

Around 10, you stretched slightly in his lap before moving to stand up. Kevin’s arm tightened around you, and you scoffed. “I have to pee, dude, I’ll be right back,” you told him with a quiet laugh, squeezing his wrist when he finally released you. “You want anything from the house?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth before you got to your feet. 

When you came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the cabin was dark aside from the string lights on one wall, and you jumped a little when you spotted Kevin on the sofa.

“You really did just have to use the bathroom, huh?” he said, grinning as he got to his feet. The look in his eye as he watched you made your back straighten as he approached. 

“Yeah,” you laughed, licking your lips. “What did you think I meant?”

“I dunno, I figured that was code that you wanted me to follow you up here to fuck you senseless or something,” he told you with a shrug, his hands finding your waist once he was close enough. You snorted softly, shaking your head as you looked up at him. He was grinning at you like he had been all night, like you and your body were the only things on his mind, and anything you’d thought about saying as a response was lost. 

He dipped his head to kiss you, pressing you back against the closed door of the bathroom, and you sighed into his mouth. Your hands came up to grip the fabric of his shirt, letting him keep the slow pace he’d set even as your restraint was threatening to fray. His tongue slid over yours, and he held your jaw tenderly, thumb brushing over your cheek. Your knees already felt weak as you leaned into him, all of the heat from earlier flooding back. 

You couldn’t help the way that you moaned into his mouth, your hips already pressing toward him eagerly. That was when he pulled back, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks were flushed. “You wanna go back out to the fire?” he asked, smirking casually and hellbent on torturing you.

Rolling your eyes, you brought an arm up to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him where he was. “I thought you were gonna keep me up half the night and fuck me senseless,” you responded, surprised that your voice wasn’t shaking as you repeated his earlier words back to him. 

His only reaction was to curse under his breath as he kissed you again roughly enough that you melted against him. Your hand slid along his neck, and when your thumb brushed over his pulse point, you could feel that his heart was racing. You were already wet, and had been since before Sophie interrupted you after your nap earlier. He squeezed your ass firmly, pulling your hips forward against his as his teeth caught on your bottom lip.

“Kev, we need to relocate,” you breathed, tilting your head back as he kissed down your throat. He let out a grumble that made you laugh even as you arched toward him again and he sighed, finally pulling back. 

“Meet me in your room?” he murmured, hands sliding up your waist like he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet. You nodded, nudging his shoulder lightly to make him move finally, and you took off ahead of him. 

He smacked your ass hard enough to make you gasp before slipping into his room as you kept going toward your own. With the door closed behind you, you tugged off your shirt and kicked your shorts aside, knowing they wouldn’t stay on much longer anyway. You wished you had thought ahead and packed some cute underwear or something that would’ve made you feel a little sexier as you laid back against your pillows. 

You held your breath when you heard his footsteps come toward your door, and he cursed loudly when he saw you, making sure to lock the door behind him. He’d always managed to boost your ego, and damn, you were grateful for that. His eyes were glued to you as he approached the bed, already pulling his shirt off over his head with a grin.

When he set a box of condoms on the end table next to the bed, you laughed loudly. “A whole box, huh?” you teased, beaming as you watched him closely. 

Licking his lips as his eyes slid over your body, he shrugged. “Just trying to be prepared, baby girl,” he told you, smirking as his hands moved to unbutton his pants. 

He kicked his shorts off, and the outline of his half hard dick in his boxer-briefs was enough to make you groan. His body was absolutely stunning, perfectly sculpted by years of training and you had never figured out how someone as hot as him was interested in you.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” he told you, still smirking as he joined you on the bed. You shrugged, continuing to check him out because you knew he certainly didn’t mind. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable, and you pulled him over you as soon as he was close enough. 

Settled over you, his body was close enough for you to feel his warmth, and as soon as he kissed you, you were arching toward him for the skin to skin contact you were so desperate for. There wasn’t much restraint in his kiss as his knee sank into the mattress between your thighs. You put an arm around his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth. 

His mouth left yours to move along your jaw in hot, open mouthed kisses and you sighed softly, tilting your head back for him. You already felt like you were burning from the inside out, your clit throbbing as your hands moved to start tugging down his underwear.

He chuckled softly, his lips vibrating against your throat as he swatted your hands away. “So impatient,” he murmured with a soft tsk, letting his mouth slide over your collarbone. You exhaled a loud breath, a shiver running through you from the contact, and you made a pleading sound. 

When he kissed you again, you saw stars, only faintly aware of his hand slipping under your back to unfasten your bra. Pulling the fabric away from you, he cursed under his breath and his mouth was already making its way down your throat again. 

“Kev, baby, just fuck me already,” you whined, dragging your nails over his shoulder. He glanced up at you with dark eyes, and he had the audacity to grin at you before sucking your nipple into his mouth. You nearly jumped out of your skin, moaning loudly as your hips rocked in search of friction. His hand came up to tug your panties down in an easy motion, so at least he was heading in the right direction of what you wanted. 

You were about to whine for him again, damn near ready to beg by the time his hand slipped between your thighs. A loud, grateful moan left you from the contact, even if it was just him sliding his fingers through your folds. 

“How are you always just so fucking wet?” he murmured, mostly to himself as he purposefully avoided your clit. A frustrated sound left you as you squirmed, your hips twitching toward his hand. 

“It might have something to do with the fact that you teased me for half the day,” you responded, voice shaking slightly as you managed to laugh a bit. Sucking a mark against the curve of your breast, he hummed softly like he was acknowledging his role in the matter. 

Without much further teasing, he sank two fingers into you, and you each moaned in unison. You felt so on edge already, barely able to keep still as your body squeezed around his fingers greedily. His mouth moved over your chest and shoulder without much direction, like he was just happy to be able to touch you at all while his fingers rocked into you.

“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he groaned, nosing at the hollow of your throat. “Can’t wait to feel you around my dick, baby, I’ve been waiting so fucking long.” He said that just when you thought you couldn’t possibly get any wetter, but the words alone made you exhale a pleading whine. 

Your nails sank into his shoulder when his fingers curled against your g-spot and you cursed loudly as you rocked against his hand hungrily. He leaned up to kiss you again, happily swallowing the moans that were spilling out of you. His thumb had started rubbing circles and figure 8s against your clit and you swore that you were on the verge of actually exploding.

The motion of his fingers sped up and you were already so close, desperately trying to meet the motion of his hand to get what you needed. His mouth closed around your nipple again, nearly overwhelming you. Your heartbeat was roaring in your ears and your scalp prickled from the perfect pressure of his thumb against you.

“Fuck, Kev, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, panting as heat threatened to consume your body. He cursed, and just as you were right there at the edge, his fingers were suddenly gone. The sound that left you was practically a sob, your body shaking as you tried to squeeze your thighs together for whatever friction you could get.

Kevin actually chuckled at the sight, using the leg still between your knees to stop you as he leaned to kiss you again quickly. “Not yet, baby, don’t want you to cum until it’s on my cock,” he told you, and all you could do was nod out of desperation.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and you locked eyes with him as you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. Eagerly, your tongue slid along his digits and you held his gaze, knowing your eyes were dark and clouded with lust. All you could hear over the rush of your own heartbeat was the soft mumble of his voice as he praised you.

When he pulled away completely, standing to grab a condom from the end table, your head turned to watch him, just as you had earlier. He smirked when he caught you checking him out, your eyes obviously stuck on the hard line of his cock as it strained against the fabric of his underwear.

“Turn over, sweetheart, get up on your hands and knees for me,” he told you, licking his lips as he tore open the condom.

You didn’t even bother to nod, just moving as quickly as you could on limbs that were still shaking. Your knees sank into the mattress, eagerness clawing at you as you heard the sound of his boxer-briefs sliding down his legs. Still trembling, you looked back at him, loving the look in his eye as he stroked his cock slowly, surveyed the way you were presenting yourself to him.

“Kev, c’mon, stop making me wait,” you pleaded, already rocking back toward him hungrily. He chuckled softly, letting his hand rub over your back in a way that made you shake even more. It surprised you when he pulled you to the edge of the mattress where his feet were still planted on the floor. 

“I don’t remember you being this needy before,” he mused, his voice a low hum as he smacked your ass, earning a gasp from you. You gritted your teeth as your hand tightened in the sheets, pressing back toward him again as your pussy throbbed. 

“Maybe because before, I hadn’t spent a year and a half fantasizing about you,” you responded, the words punctuated with a moan as he started to drag the head of his cock through your folds. You figured stroking his ego a little bit might get you what you wanted, and your arms were shaking so badly that you dropped to let your chest rest against the mattress.

“Let’s hope this lives up to the fantasy then, huh?” You had started to laugh at his words, but the sound immediately became a loud moan when he sank into you all at once.

You were so full that you swore you could feel him through every inch of you, your muscles already tightening around him eagerly. A grunt left him as his hands found your waist, squeezing you there while his hips ground against you in a way that left you whimpering.

Just as you were about to whine for him to move, to give you more, he pulled back, almost slipping out of you before slamming his hips into yours again. You cursed loudly, nodding in encouragement as he set a rhythm that was somehow both lazy and desperate.

That pace didn’t last though, not when you were still so close to an orgasm that you found yourself rocking back toward him hungrily. He got the message, starting to pound into you with shallow thrusts that had the head of his cock dragging over your g-spot with each stroke. Moaning loudly into the comforter, it was hard to catch your breath, but the need for oxygen was second to your need for him.

“Right there, Kev, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped out, not even sure if your words were coherent by then. He seemed to understand well enough though, keeping the current pace as his hand slid up your back to press between your shoulders as he fucked you into the bed. 

When you came, you groaned into the mattress, only faintly aware of the sharp curse that Kevin let out from the way you tightened around him as he fucked you through it. It was the kind of orgasm that left you boneless and panting, clinging to the sheets in the hopes of staying upright as it faded. With your eyes squeezed shut, you may have blacked out for a second, barely aware of the fact that you were now on your back. 

“You good, sweetheart?” Kevin asked softly, leaning over you to press a gentle kiss to your mouth. You nodded, almost feeling drunk as you smiled at him, tilting your head up for another kiss. He was still buried inside you as you throbbed around him, and you were surprised that you were able to move your arm enough to loop it around his neck.

With the buzzing in your mind and body slowing, Kevin’s mouth moved over your throat again as he let you come down a little more. You didn’t need much of a break though, and you gasped when he leaned into you more. The sound made him smirk and his teeth grazed over your pulse point sharply enough that your hips rocked against him. 

“Ready for more?” he asked, straightening up before you were ready to lose the contact of him leaning over you. Looking up at him, you nodded, biting your lip. He swore under his breath again, glancing down between your bodies to where you were joined and started to move. 

Your urgency and impatience returned quickly, leaving you to roll your hips against his encouragingly as you gripped the sheets beneath you. The groan that left him was so hot, and you could practically see his hands shaking as he reached for a pillow to slide under your hips. You managed to wrap your legs around his waist despite the fact that they still felt like jello, and he made a sound of approval, guiding one leg a bit higher.

He was slow for a bit, just like he had been earlier, studying your body as it was stretched out in front of him. You knew you were flushed, your skin hot and there was at least one mark on you left by his mouth. When you said his name, your tone was desperate and he met your gaze as he nodded. His hand squeezed your thigh, moving to hold the crook of your knee as his brow creased in concentration. 

His pace changed quickly after that like he was tired of making you wait for it. The drag of his cock inside you was enough to make you arch toward him and your mouth fell open with a moan. He was far too good at this, he always had been. His jaw was slack as he looked down at you, obviously taking note of the fact that your tits were bouncing each time his hips slammed into yours.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathed, his voice tense as his hand moved from your hip up to your breast to toy with your nipple. The contact made you cry out, your chest rising to meet his hand in search of more.

A smirk flashed across his face at your reaction, his eyes dark as you dug your heel into his back, silently pleading for more. With your hands fisted in the sheets beneath you as you tried to rock against him, you whined his name, already the pressure building in you again. He had such a gorgeous body and you brought a hand up to his abs, letting your nails scratch over his skin lightly.

“Touch yourself, Y/N,” Kevin told you, guiding one of your legs higher on his waist. “I wanna see you make yourself cum while I fuck you, wanna cum with you.” His words were rushed, and the slight increase in pace told you he was growing close, just like you were. 

Your hand dropped from his abs to between your thighs, gasping at just how wet you were. Your clit was swollen and throbbing, and the pressure of your fingers made your body shake as his grip on your thigh tightened.

“Goddammit, Kevin,” you whined, rubbing frantic circles against your clit as he fucked you.

“Good girl, keep going, I know you can cum for me again,” he said, the husky tone of his voice only turning you on more. Your breathing was ragged as your legs tightened around him, still needing him deeper.

He leaned over you, one hand beside your head as he pressed his face into your breasts. Grateful for the contact, your arm wrapped around him and your hand found its way into his hair, tugging at the strands. The new angle had his cock grinding over your g-spot with each snap of his hips, sending you over the edge as you continued to rub hard circles against your clit. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you came, exhaling moans that were semi-pornographic as his mouth closed around your nipple. He moaned loudly, sending a vibration through you as his hips stuttered, and you both lost all sense of rhythm as you came, grinding together almost aimlessly.

As soon as your orgasm passed, your head fell back, desperately trying to catch your breath as Kevin nuzzled against our chest. He was breathing just as heavily as you were, and his skin was damp with sweat when your hand slid over his back. You doubted you were in any better condition, but you were so content to just lay there for a long while, tangled together and blissed out. His weight was slumped against you a little, keeping you from floating away. When you remembered how to move, your hand moved to his hair, and he hummed in appreciation.

“Holy shit, you’re incredible,” he breathed eventually, turning his head enough to kiss your skin lazily. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled in you as you continued toying with his hair. He lifted his head to look up at you and a content grin slid onto your face. “Better than the fantasies?”

You chuckled, nodding as you let out a sigh. “Absolutely,” you told him, smiling as his lips moved up your throat to your mouth. The kiss was lazy but left you breathless, and when he pulled away, you couldn’t help but pout. He shot you a wink, making your stomach flutter as you moved lay against the pillows.

Laying on your side, you watched as he disposed of the condom and stepped into his underwear. You felt warm all over, admiring the lines of his tattoo as he climbed into bed again. He was quick to spoon you, pressing kisses along the back of your shoulder as you relaxed back against him.

It was easy to lay there for a while, talking quietly about nothing really, just light conversation as he kept himself curled around you. You had to get up eventually to use the bathroom, and Kevin made a displeased sound over the fact that you pulled on pants as you got dressed again. Scoffing at him, you made sure to remove them again the second you were back and you hit the light before getting into bed in your t-shirt and panties.

Laying together in the dark, Kevin’s legs tangled with yours as his arm held you around the waist tightly. He was so warm behind you, and neither of you seemed to want to talk about leaving tomorrow, so you talked about easier things until you both dozed off.

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

How they act around their crush: GD edition

[This one’s for @glass-grapes​. I saw your submission and am completely psyched that you love my blog! I know that I’ve only recently had it kick-off with a few posts, but I have been wanting to start one of these since January. Hope this is to your liking! (p.s I didn’t know if I should do pre or post time skip, so I did a little dabbling into both]

Claude:

We all know Claude here is both a go-getter and a tease 

If he finds you interesting then there’s no reason for him to hide it. A  battle of wits never hurt anyone, and boy do you two fight well

He is s a s s y. If you’re chatting with some other students he might stick his nose into the conversation to toy with you. It’s all in good fun, right? Just a little mini-game on his way to achieving bigger things  

That’s what he tells himself 

Some days he finds you a bit too alluring, and can’t help being self conscious of the other people around

Fiddles with his braid when you throw him for a loop

Will pay extra special attention to you in battle, and makes excuses to the prof. for why you should be near him. He really is a snake 

Post-Timeskip he hides his bias even more. Not enough to fool his close comrades, but enough to avoid you receiving any extra attention from the enemy  

Sometimes slips items in your room to distract from the stress. Tea, a new blanket, etc.

During the five year gap he keeps track of your whereabouts. After Garreg Mache fell he decided that his dream would take priority as planned, but also believed that one day you would be at his side 

Wasn’t surprised at all to see you at the reunion, but that familiar urge to tug his hair returned too  

Judith and Nader have already heard about you prior to your meeting. Much to his dismay they view his buried feelings as open range comedy

Lorenz: 

We all know how Lorenz acts when he finds someone of interest. The guy is a huge flirt which causes the professor wayyy too much stress 

He’s not as in-tune with his sense of romance as you would think. In the early stages he’ll treat you the same as all the other ladies: a potential partner for house Gloucester.

Date offerings, frilly words, gifts, acts of kindness. Ah tis but the duty of a noble, yes? 

No. 

One day he lets that stubborn side of his personality slip out, and you come back at him with just as much fire. He becomes so angered after it, but somehow hearing the words from you hurt more than if someone else were to say them

That’s when he knows that he’s in deep, and from then on he treats you more gently. He’ll watch his tongue around other women, and sets his sights on only you. His mannerisms are the same as before, but now he tries to learn more about you as a person vs. just the cold hard statistics

He’s a blusher. He has a naturally light pigmentation so it shows. 

After the time-skip he’ll watch you like a hawke. Do you like his new hair cut? Surly it’s an improvement from before sorry bro it’s not

Sets his dignity aside to request that you be given a hexlock shield during battle, or placed near him. Claude won’t let him live it down

Ignatz: 

He m i g h t avoid you, but please don’t take it the wrong way. That’s just how he is, you know?

Young Ignatz isn’t that confident in himself. You’re...well ‘you’. And he’s...well, ‘him’

Oddly enough he confides in HIlda of all people. It originally began with wanting to see if she was still on stable duty with him, but ended up with him working and her talking

When you’re nearby he chooses not to speak unless spoken to. If you didn’t know his tells he’d come off cold, but one look at his hands wringing together just proves he was nervous 

Byleth puts you two on cooking duty together: que panic. He legit grovels at their feet to pick someone else. They don’t, and that evening he sketches a wonderful picture of you sifting through different seasonings 

On your birthday he struggles to give you the gift he prepared. It ends up with Lionie giving you it while he watches from afar. 

When you’re older he is much more verbal with his opinions 

More often than not he lets those honey-coated words slip out, which usually end up with him excusing himself quickly 

Invites you to join him during downtime at least once a week. Every day could be his last, and goddess forbid yours. He wants to spend time with you even if he isn’t the most graceful companion never mind that he’s a smooth-talking mofo

Raphael: 

If there’s one thing Raphael is good at, it’s showing that he cares 

The boy is a giant muscular teddybear. He will carry your things, he will spar with you, he will eat anything you cook without complaint, and he will hug you; hard. 

Unlike everyone else he’s pretty open with his feelings. Life is short, you know? 

If you make him particularly bashful he’ll laugh loudly. More so to cover up his own embarrassment than because he finds the situation actually humorous

Adopts this habit of constantly asking if you need anything. The guy loves to dote on people, and lookie here you’re the perfect target 

Remembers all important dates like a pro. On your birthday he drops a gift right on your desk first thing in the morning 

Goddess forbid anyone gives you trouble. Without the smile on his face he looks the murder type, and the guy uses it to his advantage. He will happily escort you anywhere you need to go 

Once his sister is settled he might honestly stick with you during that five year gap. He’s made his feelings painfully obvious, and you haven’t chased him off. Why not stick around? 

Hilda: 

Yo she’s clingy 

She knows you have to be a catch and a half to steal her heart, so who knows who else that you’ve smooth talked 

Just like everyone else she’ll still get you to do her bidding...but, maybe a smidge less 

She feels guilty, but won’t show it 

Hilda will do all in her power to not let the news reach her family. The last thing she needs is Holst sending her more letters, or worse: showing up at the monastery

Y’all she will don her best perfume for you. She will push all her work onto Cyril and drag you to have lunch with her. This is normal Hilda behavior so she has no reason to be shy 

Will flirt openly and proudly. If you recuperate she’ll go gossip to Marianne about how you’re ‘totally smitten’ with her

Post-skip she’s not much different. Most of her time is spent doing what she can for the cause, but when you see each other she’s more bold. 

Like always she doesn’t like to have expectations pushed onto her. She does have one for herself though, and it’s to stay by your side. 

Marianne: 

During the academy years she tends to admire from afar 

Her favorite memories are of when the professor signed you both up for choir practice. She loves your voice, and it was a time where there wasn’t any pressure for conversation 

As time passes she’ll become less adverse to talking. Quiet greetings will be whispered when you cross paths, and occasionally you two have lunch together 

Marianne is not as reserved as people assume her to be. She’s just had a rough time, and if you take things slow with her then she’ll gradually have a stronger presence in your life. She hopes that this comes true for you two 

Eye contact hasn’t always been her forte. She does try to maintain it with you though 

Her feelings remain at a stalemate through most of the academy days. Only when she bypass’ some more personal-issues does she let her emotions go free

About halfway through the war period she changes. Her stance is more vertical, and she becomes the one to take initiative in your relationship 

She’ll still blush upon any physical contact, and in some cases she’ll lose her breath when you talk. Don’t take the momentary silence as a bad thing, she’s okay. 

Occasionally she’ll be restless and unable to sleep, worrying about the future she now has in her grasp. You might find her scouring for a cup of chamomile late in the night 

Lysithea: 

She’ll deny herself immediately. For Lysithea the future is an anomaly. One of which that no amount of studying or research can uncover.

It’s painfully obvious that there’s a spark between you two. Anyone can see it, and Hilda has pestered her many times regarding confessing 

If the situation was a bit different, she would. Lysithea is no push over, but she also doesn’t want to invest time into something that will bear no fruition 

She keeps her cool around you for the most part...or at least until you’re out of hearing distance 

Then she completely loses composure. Did someone say clammy hands? Because hers get slicker than lorenz’s hair gel 

Leads to stress eating, not gonna lie. There are many late night trips to the mess hall, and many angry cooks over the missing sweets  

Times are different post-timeskip though. She’s a bit more reluctant to let these feelings go 

Occasionally there’s some open flirting on her part. If you recuperate then it becomes more frequent and less forced. The sassy banter between you two becomes the deer’s free entertainment

Leonie: 

She’s commonly been viewed as ‘one of the guys,’ for her personality. So she’s very insecure about getting friend zoned 

It’s not like she was actively searching for romance. It just happened, you know? One day something just struck a chord 

She never took the time to picture sharing a life with someone. Most of her life has been spent worrying about her village, or working hard to attain some kind of recognition from the Captian 

For a split second she considers going to Byleth for some advice. Now isn’t the time for school-girl crushes. Now is the time to be forging a path to the future

Decides to completely ignore the ache she feels when you’re nearby. Just...lets it go. 

She’ll put hella distance between you two. The only time she’ll initiate contact is during sparring 

After the timeskip she stays this way too. Well, until HIlda calls her out on her bullsh*t (if you haven’t noticed from all these. Hilda is a perceptive little cookie)

Just like anyone she’ll go through the moral dilemma of deciding to confess or not. She instead chooses to just let her feelings do as they please, and if something happens then it happens 

[lady-divine-writes]

“Excuses, Excuses” (Rated PG13)

Summary:

When Crowley takes Aziraphale figure skating, the angel thinks Crowley has an ulterior motive. And he does, but it's not the one Aziraphale thinks. (1688 words)

Notes: I was inspired by one of @wildenights prompts for the Gomens Holiday Swap to write this one-shot for them. Sorry that it's a little late.It’s fluff and romance and a first kiss. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Read on AO3.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?” Crowley mutters, barely glancing up from his task.

“Have I offended you?”

“No more than usual, angel.”

“Ha … ha …” Aziraphale frowns at Crowley’s kidding. At least, Aziraphale thinks he’s kidding. But now is hardly the time for it - not when Crowley is putting their lives (such as they can be deemed) in peril. “Have I done something to upset you in any way?”

“Not in the past few hours.”

Aziraphale swallows, his voice softening, fragile to the point of cracking. “Do you love me?”

Crowley’s face snaps up. He glares at Aziraphale, lips twisted. “Of course I do!”

“Then …” Aziraphale eyes the black leather boots with shiny (and lethal looking) silver blades attached that Crowley has finished tying to his feet “… why do you wish to see me discorporated?”

Crowley hauls himself off the floor and sits on the bench beside him, tying his own pair of skates. “Don’t be daft! I don’t want to see you discorporated!”

“Maimed then?”

Crowley huffs and rolls his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, angel! We’re going ice skating!”

“But why go ice skating when there’s a lovely restaurant right over there where we can get coffee and scones?”

“We just had coffee and scones. At that restaurant!”

“I know. That’s how I know it’s lovely.”

“This is what humans do during the holidays. You appreciate cute human rituals,” Crowley points out with a sneer, indicating that he does not appreciate them nearly as much. “I thought you might enjoy yourself.”

“I also enjoy going about with my appendages unbroken.”

“Don’t worry …” Crowley ties a knot in his final lace and rises, rather skillfully, to his feet, making Aziraphale wonder if balancing on blades is a common talent amongst demons, or only for Crowley, which leads to him comically envisioning a frozen pond or lake covered in skating demons, spinning and jumping and performing feats of athletic grace while they spit fire and curse unsuspecting humans to eternity in Hell “… I’ll hold on tight to you so you won’t fall. But if you do manage to break something, I’ll miracle it back together. All right?”

Aziraphale hums in disapproval. He isn’t looking forward to any activity that might require he be reassembled by a demon. But Aziraphale has seen Crowley miracle dents out of his Bentley numerous times. Crowley can definitely do it.

“Yes, all right,” Aziraphale relents, reluctant to relinquish the belief that he must have done something heinous if Crowley chooses to torture him this way. Crowley is more of a wily demon than a malicious one, ergo he’d probably want to see Aziraphale fall on his arse, look like a fool, not get injured.

Crowley takes Aziraphale’s arm and leads him to the ice with such care, it confuses him. Perhaps Crowley plans on taking him to the center of the ice and stranding him there. He’d come back to the benches, miracle himself up a brandy, then sit and watch Aziraphale struggle to follow. And while Aziraphale racks his brain for a possible reason why, he overlooks the fact that they’ve started circling the rink arm in arm, slowly and smoothly. Aziraphale stares down at his legs, basically paralyzed, then to Crowley doing all of the work keeping Aziraphale upright and guiding him along. He gets so caught up watching their skates glide across the ice, trying to find a balanced spot, he doesn’t notice he’s doubled over, his nose nearly at the level of his navel.

“No need to stare at the ice, angel,” Crowley says. “It’s not going anywhere.”

“Oh. Right.” Aziraphale straightens, inch by inch becoming more comfortable in his current circumstances until he appears from the outside like he’s doing something close to skating.

“There …” Crowley smiles at Aziraphale’s flushed cheeks and cherry nose “… how’s that? Nice, huh?”

“I … I suppose,” Aziraphale admits. “I’d still rather be sitting somewhere safe. And warm.”

“Next time I’ll bring you a sled instead of skates so I can pull you around like a dog. How would that suit you?”

“If you’re offering …” Aziraphale’s left leg cramps from straining to remain immobile while his right gets ambitious and decides to push. He hits his toe pick and trips, flying forward so fast, stars swirl before his eyes. He tenses, assuming a crash eminent, but Crowley swoops in and braces him before he loses his feet. Aziraphale stares up at the demon holding him awkwardly in his arms. “Um … thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Crowley says, putting Aziraphale back on his blades. Without another word, they continue along. Aziraphale takes a deep breath in through his nose and holds it, wary of doing anything more strenuous that may throw him off balance. But with Crowley’s arm latched securely around him, he starts to relax, lets himself experience fully everything going on around him - the wind biting his cheeks and his nose, threading through his hair like fingers; the sound their blades make as they scrape along the ice; holiday music playing through an outdoor speaker from a shop close by; the savory smells coming from that restaurant Aziraphale is still carrying a torch for. Most of all, he’s enjoying Crowley’s arm around him, his strength keeping Aziraphale vertical, his warmth seeping through Aziraphale’s clothes to his skin.

Aziraphale feels giddy in Crowley’s arms. Brave somewhat. He raises a leg and balances on one skate. Crowley sees him and smiles, holding him steadier when that leg starts to wobble.

“See?” he says. “You’re gettin’ the hang of it.”

“Yes, well, this shouldn’t be too hard when you consider I can fly.” Aziraphale lets go of Crowley’s arm for a second and gives spinning a try, returning to the safety of Crowley’s embrace after his first shaky attempt.

“Very nice, angel. Very nice. Maybe you can compete in the next Olympics.”

“Been there, done that. You seem to be steadier on your feet than I am. I imagine you’ve done this before?”

Crowley shrugs. “Once or twice.”

“Why don’t you show me what you can do then?” Aziraphale asks, joyfully breathless and completely exhilarated. Why had he not attempted this before? How did he not realize how much fun this could be?

Well, the answer to that is quite simple.

Because a handsome demon had never offered to take him before. Now that he has, he must find an excuse for Crowley to bring him skating whenever they are able.

“Not this time. This time around my only job is to ensure your safety.”

“That’s awfully chivalrous of you.” Aziraphale releases Crowley’s hand to try his spin again. He performs it, but this time, the edge of his blade catches. His feet fly out from under him. He’s sure he’s going to land on his back this time, but out of nowhere, Crowley has his arms around him, holding him against his body for safe keeping.

And even after Aziraphale steadies himself, Crowley doesn’t let go.

“Are you all right, dear?” Aziraphale asks when this embrace has gone on a hair too long to be considered helping anymore. Crowley doesn’t say yes or no. He makes a noise in the affirmative and clings on tighter. Aziraphale does the same, holding Crowley around the torso and resting his cheek against his shoulder. He smiles when he feels them start to sway, as if they could be dancing, even though neither of them has moved an inch. They haven’t gone dancing before either. They’ve barely held hands. Maybe that was the next thing on Crowley’s agenda. This single embrace is the most physical contact they’ve shared in 6000 years of knowing one another.

And that gets Aziraphale thinking.

“Is this … is this why you wanted to go skating with me?”

“Mmm … maybe.”

Aziraphale pulls back to look at Crowley’s face, past the lenses of his dark glasses and into his beautiful amber eyes . “Dearest, if you wanted a hug, you could have just asked.”

“Ngk … yeah … I know. I guess I was just afraid you’d say no.”

“Why would I possibly say no? It is just a hug after all. Friends hug, and  I dare say, we’re more than friends.”

“True but …”

“And … you said you love me. Correct?”

“I do. But I … I got the feeling that … for you … hugging might be a big milestone and all … seeing as we’ve known each other 6000 years and we’ve never once … uh … I didn’t want to overstep … you know … because then we may never … well, we may never …”

Aziraphale gazes fondly at his ridiculous demon and sighs. He’s in no position to do anything grand. He’s still not quite steady on his feet. And regardless of his size, he feels a too strong breeze might push him over. So he rises up carefully on his toes, presses his lips to Crowley’s, and silences his bumbling demon with a kiss.

Crowley stops, stunned, mouth slightly open, lips cold but wet from constantly nervously running his tongue over them. But seconds later, he pulls Aziraphale back into his embrace, holding him with arms so secure and sure, they may as well be made of steel. It’s a simple kiss, but it nearly knocks the wind out of Crowley - a feat considering, as a demon, he doesn’t need to breathe.

“What … what was that for?” he asks when Aziraphale tentatively backs away.

“Didn’t you like it?” Aziraphale asks, the cold putting a twinkle in his eyes but that kiss making his face flush to the roots of his snowy blond hair.

“Yes, I liked it! But that’s not the issue! It took me how long to hug you!? Wouldn’t kissing be considered a much larger step?”

“Of course!” Aziraphale chuckles. “That’s why I figured, if I got it out of the way, it might help you not be nervous about hugging me anymore!”

Crowley grins. Then he laughs out loud, relaxing into the body he’s holding against his own. “I see your point.”

[dlwritings]

Baby Moron | Steve Harrington

masterlist found here

pairing - Steve Harrington x pregnant!reader word count - 2,947 warnings - Stranger Things 3 spoilers A/N - this is for the anon who requested it AGES ago and @probablynotfinnwolfhard @linkispink1995 @exquisitebts and the anon who voted for this!

summary - You and Steve were in love, and all he wanted was to protect you- and that was before he found out you were pregnant. And now, trapped with the Russians and drugged out of his mind, Steve wouldn’t let a thing happen to you.

At 18, your life was not exactly going to plan. You did not plan to get pregnant, get kicked out of your parents’ house, and start living paycheck to paycheck with Steve Harrington.

You and Steve had been dating for a little over a year when you got pregnant. You were just glad he didn’t abandon you. You could deal with your parents disowning you as long as you had Steve.

And the two of you weren’t in this alone either. Steve still lived at home, and you had moved in with Hopper and El. It was challenging at times, but you were just glad you had the support of your friends.

You were searching for a job, but you kept coming up short. Steve’s job at Scoops Ahoy didn’t exactly provide you both with enough money to eventually support a child. You were so grateful that Hopper fed you and let you live with him for free, but you couldn’t mooch off of him forever. You needed a house of your own and a crib for a baby and formula and diapers and toys and clothes and more and more and more. Minimum wage from an ice cream parlor would not pay for that.

Still, you were grateful for Steve. He could’ve run away when he found out you were pregnant, but he didn’t.

You were about two weeks late on your period. You had been feeling increasingly nauseous. You were crabby and tired and irritable- all more so than usual. You went to the drug store and bought a pregnancy test as nonchalantly as you could, your eyes constantly on the lookout for someone you knew. Luckily, your parents weren’t home, so you burst into your house and headed straight to the bathroom.

The few minutes that it took for the test to show the results were agonizing. You searched the kitchen cupboards for a timer and set it, then paced back and forth in the bathroom. You chewed on your thumbnail the whole time. You weren’t ready to be a mother. You and Steve weren’t ready for those responsibilities. Steve. Steve wouldn’t stick around, that was for sure. What would you do without him? How would you do this without him?

The timer went off, and you snatched up the pregnancy test.

Positive.

You sunk to the ground, leaning your back against the cabinet and burst into tears. You couldn’t let go of the pregnancy test. Maybe if you squeezed it tightly enough, you could change your fate.

You loved kids, but you weren’t ready to have one. Hell, you felt like you were still one yourself.

You knew having an abortion was an option, but the idea of that scared you more than actually having the baby. It wasn’t that you were morally against abortions, it was just that, now that you were in a situation where you could actually get one, you weren’t sure you could do it.

If you weren’t 100% sure, you knew that option was out the window.

The next step, you knew, was to tell Steve. You had to do it right away, because the longer you put it off, the less likely you would be to do it until it was awkwardly late. You called Steve, trying to sound as calm as you could, and told him to come over. As soon as you opened your front door, he could tell something was wrong. He could see it in your eyes. You walked with him into the living room and sat down beside him. He tried to reach out for your hand, but you pulled away.

Steve thought you were breaking up with him. He started racking his brain, trying to think of what he had done. He was already ready with a hundred apologies for anything that came to mind.

“I’m pregnant.”

Okay. He was not ready for that.

“You, you’re, what did you say?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Steve.” He didn’t say anything and wasn’t even looking at you. You expected this, but it still hurt. “I’m so sorry, Steve. Maybe I forgot to take my birth control? I don’t know. I’m so, so sorry.” He still didn’t say anything, and his eyes were still on the floor. “Please say something.”

Steve heard the crack in your voice and finally looked up. He had tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look mad. Your heart felt a little more at ease. “You’re keeping it, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he sniffed. “I’m gonna be a dad?” He didn’t sound angry. Maybe a little scared, but not angry. A tear fell from your eye as you nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “But you don’t have to, like, support-”

“Whoa, hey, what are you talking about?” he said. You finally let him hold your hands in his. “I’m going to support you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” Steve said, wiping a tear from your cheek. “No, of course not. I love you. And now we’re having a baby?” He laughed. “This is, it’s nuts. It’s not exactly how I expected our lives to go.”

“I know,” you said, feeling your lower lip quiver. 

“But I love you,” he said again. “And I’m totally ready to go down this road with you.”

“What if I can’t do it?” you asked with a sniff.

“You can do it,” he said. “Cuz you’re not gonna be alone, okay?”

“I’m gonna go crazy,” you said, putting your forehead in your hands. “I’m gonna turn into a crazy pregnant lady.”

Steve laughed again. “If you go crazy, we’ll go crazy together.”

Steve got a job at Scoops Ahoy right after that. Now, a little over two months later, he hated it. Not because it was a particularly bad job, but because he was an 18-year-old soon-to-be dad wearing a sailor uniform serving ice cream to children. You deserved better than that. He hated that he couldn’t give you something better than that. You didn’t mind at all though. Mostly because Steve’s job meant you could get free ice cream.

One day, Steve told you about this crazy Russian message he, Dustin, and his coworker Robin had heard over Dustin’s radio and decoded. When he said they (along with Erica Sinclair because of her convenient and small size- good for squeezing into small spaces) were going to try and find the underground Russian base, you told him you were going with him.

“No way,” he said as soon as the words left your lips. “You’re not coming.”

“And why not?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“Did you not hear what I said about the guards with guns?” he asked.

“I did,” you said.

“Okay, well then that should explain it!” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“I don’t care,” you said. “I’m going with you.”

“You’re pregnant!” he shouted. You were having the fight at your house in your bedroom, but Hopper was out with Joyce and El was out with The Party. You didn’t want them to know about the pending Russian base infiltration, so you were glad they were gone.

“I’m not even three months along!” you said. “I’m already getting bored with you and Hop basically putting me under house arrest. I just want an adventure.”

“Then we can go on a road trip or something!” he said. “I’m not letting you risk your life for this.”

“If you really thought it was a life threatening journey, I don’t think you’d be letting Erica Sinclair go with you. Or Dustin for that matter.”

Steve knew he would lose the fight no matter how hard he tried. He considered telling Hopper, but that would probably get him and Dustin in trouble as well. So, he just caved.

The hardest part of you tagging along was that no one knew you were pregnant. Steve couldn’t ask you repeatedly if you were okay because the others would think he had gone crazy. All he could do was bite his tongue and let you handle yourself.

When you got in the storage room, Steve opened one of the boxes to see what was inside. The contents inside were, well-

“That’s definitely not Chinese food.”

You tried to get a closer look at the contents of the box, but Steve held out an arm to hold you back. “No,” he said sternly.

“What do you mean, no?” you sassed back.

“Just step back, okay?” he said. “This stuff could be dangerous.”

“No, not okay,” you said. “You die, I die, Steve. We’re a team.”

The others were watching your interaction, but no one took notice to the way you put your hand over your stomach. Steve, however, did.

When the elevator fell to the ground floor, you toppled over amongst a pile of boxes. Steve jumped to action as soon as the elevator stopped moving. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground. “In fact, I’m great now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!” Steve put his arm around you, pulling you close to his side and kissing the top of your head.

There were a few fleeting moments where you thought you were going to be okay. You made it out of the elevator, Steve won the fight against the Russian, and you found what was happening at the base. Sure, finding another gate wasn’t exactly a win, but you at least now had something to tell Hopper or some other authority about once you got out. But then, you didn’t get out.

At least you, Steve, and Robin didn’t get out.

The Russians split the three of you up to interrogate you individually. “Steve!” you screamed as they dragged you away from him.

“Don’t touch her!” Steve shouted. “I swear to God, don’t touch her!”

When the door between the two of you closed, you felt utterly defeated. They tied your arms behind your back, and one of the Russians tilted your head up to look at him. “Who do you work for?” he asked, his accent thick.

“I don’t work for anyone,” you whimpered. “Steve and Robin work for Scoops Ahoy. I swear, we didn’t mean to come here.”

The Russian slapped you across the face.

This was not going to end well.

They eventually brought you back into the room with Steve, and Robin was there too. “Steve,” you cried, trying to walk over to him. The Russians held you back though, walking you where they wanted you to go. They sat you on a chair so that you, Steve, and Robin were making a triangle shape with your chairs. Steve was unconscious, and Robin was fighting against her restraints. “What did you do to him?” you sobbed.

“Your friend needs a doctor,” the Russian said. “Good thing we have the very best.”

You were trying to keep your chill. You were jealous of Robin who was acting so strong. Granted you tried to cut yourself some slack. Pregnancy hormones and all.

“He’ll be okay,” Robin told you, trying to reach for your hand. You felt her fingers graze yours, and you let out a sigh. Robin started screaming for help, and you focused on not breaking down into sobs again.

“Hey, would you stop yelling?”

Both you and Robin breathed out sighs of relief when Steve woke up. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “How’re you? Are you hurt? Did they hit your-”

“I’m fine,” you said, cutting Steve off. “I just want to get out of here and go home.”

The three of you tried to bounce your chairs over to a table where you saw a pair of scissors, but you all fell to the ground. Your broke apart from each other, but you were all still tied to your respective chairs. “Great,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna die in an underground Russian base.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Robin said.

“At least I don’t have to worry about my parents giving a shit,” you said. “Since, you know, they don’t speak to me anymore.”

“Stop talking like that,” Steve said. “We’re all gonna make it out of this, okay?”

When the Russians came back, planning to inject all three of you with some drug, Steve protested as much as he could. “Don’t give her any!” he said, pulling at his restraints to try and get to you. “Don’t give either of them any! Stop!”

They, as expected, ignored him and shot you all in the neck. It didn’t take long for the drugs to come into effect, even though the three of you didn’t think anything was happening. When the Russians came back, you, Steve, and Robin were in a fit of giggles. “Who do you work for?” the Russian asked.

“Scoops,” Steve said. He snickered. “Scoops Ahoy.” The three of you laughed. “Except (Y/N).”

“No, I don’t work there,” you said, shaking your head.

“She’s just my girlfriend,” Steve said. “My girlfriend carrying my little baby.”

“Baby?” Robin repeated.

“Oh my god,” you said, your eyes growing wide. You started to giggle. “We haven’t told anyone except our parents.” You looked at the Russians. “How about that? You guys are part of our journey.” You looked down at your belly. “Hear that little person? These crazy Russians know you’re in there.”

“You’re pregnant?” Robin said. “Congratulations! That’s awesome.”

“We’re gonna name it Moron,” you said. “After these stupid Russians.” You all burst out laughing until the Russian man pulled out some sort of weapon and pointed it at your head. “Ooo, that’s shiny,” you said. “What’re you gonna do with that?” You looked down at your belly again. “What do you think they’re gonna do little baby? Good things or bad things?”

“Soon there will be no little baby for you to talk to,” the Russian said. What they were about to do clicked to Steve before it clicked to you and Robin at all.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no, wait, stop!” Steve shouted. “Stop, stop, don’t hurt her!” He hesitated for less than a second. “There was a code!” he said. “We heard a code!”

And just like that, Steve confessed everything. Just as quickly, Dustin and Erica came to the rescue. You all stumbled along, rushing out of the base. “Guys,” you said to Dustin and Erica. “I’m pregnant. Did you know that? Stevie boy knocked me up!”

“Is she serious?” Erica asked Dustin. He shrugged, still looking around trying to figure out what to do.

“I’m serious!” you said. You lifted up your shirt, trying to show off your barely existent baby bump. “It looks like a food baby, but it’s a real baby! Little baby Moron.”

“Baby Moron?” Erica repeated.

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on. We need to hide them.”

You, Steve, and Robin sat in a movie theater, munching on popcorn while Dustin and Erica tried to figure out what to do next. But when the three of you started to feel sick, you rushed out of the theater and to the nearest bathroom, puking up all the drugs in your system. “Fuck,” you mumbled, leaning your back against the stall door. “Are you guys okay?” you asked Steve and Robin.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, pressing your hand to your forehead. Steve slid under the stall and joined you in yours.

“How’s the little one?” he asked, pressing his hand to your stomach.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “I think we’re both okay.”

“You really are pregnant, huh?” Robin said from her stall.

You laughed lightly. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

Slowly but surely, the three of you completely came down from your high. Robin ended up telling you both that she was a lesbian which resulted in the three of you hugging on the bathroom floor. That was how Dustin and Erica found you.

When you all found your way to the others, Steve pulled you aside. “I want you to go home,” he said.

“What?”

“Go back to Hopper’s,” he told you. “It’s safer there. I’ll come to you when this is all over.”

“You’re kidding right now, right?” you said.

“(Y/N), please don’t argue with me,” he said.

“I’m not leaving you, Steve!”

“I can’t lose you both!” he shouted. The others turned to look at the two of you, but neither of you batted an eye. Your face dropped as Steve’s eyes filled with tears. “Alright? I can’t lose you both. I need you to keep yourself safe and-” He cut himself off by laying a hand on your stomach.

Those who didn’t know of your pregnancy -Max, Lucas, Mike, Will, Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy- looked at those who did -Hopper, El, Dustin, Robin, and Erica- with wide eyes. The others gave awkward smiles like kids caught keeping a secret from their parents.

Again, you and Steve were oblivious.

“Steve,” you whispered, laying your hands on his cheeks. “I’m not leaving you, okay? You die, I die, remember?”

“Please-”

“I won’t raise a child in a world you’re not in,” you said. “End of discussion. So-” You turned back to the group. “-we’re all going to make sure that doesn’t happen, right? We’re gonna win this.”

Seven months later, you gave birth to James “Jim” (Y/L/N)-Harrington, a healthy baby boy weighing in at seven pounds, eight ounces and measuring 20-inches long. Steve was by your side, Hopper was in your heart, your friends were in the waiting room, and a shiny diamond ring was on your finger.

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

TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove |  @toniinhere

[rohad93]

A knight Affair: chapter 5 - two Princess’ and a Knight

I keep forgetting to plug the Ao3 version here if you don’t know about it.: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064748/chapters/50110898

~ 

Yellow took her time strapping her armor into place, making sure to look presentable when she was summoned to see the queen this morning. She and Blue had decided that the best way to deal with this for now was to carry on as they always had.

Not that they had much choice in the matter. Yellow was bound to do as commanded, least she wanted to be the next person stoned to death by mindless townspeople. Blue promised that she would be discussing things with the court advisors, no doubt they had noticed the queen’s continually worsening erratic behavior being in such close proximity to her most days. 

The sun was only now starting to peak over the horizon, she’d made sure to be awake and out of Blue’s room much earlier than last time. Blue didn’t like it but she understood the day’s urgency. She was still reluctant to let her go when she tried to get out of bed. Who knew when they would be able to enjoy each other’s company again.  

Yellow sighed. She had never been one to question her orders nor her queen, she hadn’t risen to captain for nothing, but things had been steadily declining ever since the rebellion began and she was worried about Blue and Pink. 

She didn’t think the queen would ever hurt them, she mostly just seemed to forget they even existed and that was somehow almost, worse.

Almost

Blue had been in training all her life to one day succeed the queen, she could run the empire just fine. The eldest princess was more worried about her sister and both of them having to watch the queen’s descent into madness.

Yellow scrubbed her hand over her face. Everything was such a mess right now. She wished she could do something that would help the sisters. At present her hands were just as tied as theirs.

They all had their rolls in the empire, Yellow had always followed hers, to great success. but even if she didn’t say it aloud and Blue never made mention of it, it was obvious to both of them that it wasn’t the queen where Yellow’s undying loyalty lay, but squarely in her love’s hands. 

It would be treasonous to say such a thing. 

Yellow snorted to herself. As though sleeping with the next heir to the throne wouldn’t get her put to death just as easily as the former.

It hardly mattered at this point. She knew who she would fight for if Blue decided it was her time to take the throne in light of the queen’s failing mental state. 

But that was a decision for Blue to make, and one that would never be made unless they were locked in the most dire of situations.     

A few hours later she was summoned to the throne room and was surprised to find both Blue and Pink there at the queen’s side. Both younger women looked worried and confused, they were never called to hold court with their mother without reason. 

“Your Majesty. Your highness’”She greeted the three dipping into a bow. 

“Ah, Captain Stone, how good of you to join us. I have been considering your next assignment and have decided that your talents could be best served escorting Azurine and Rosaline...” She began.

Yellow listened intently, keeping her eyes on the monarch who seemed quite lucid today.

“...to Fort Luna on the front line.” She finished.

Maybe not. 

The princess’ both jerked to look at the queen who sat in her throne smiling serenely as though she hadn’t just ordered her only two daughters to go to the war torn front line that was constantly moving back and forth and could easily catch them in it. 

“Fort Luna? Why?” Blue was the first to find her voice. 

“This uprising has gone on long enough. I think the men have simply not been duly motivated.” She waved a hand. “You two shall go and lift their morale. Remind them what they are fighting for and remind the traitors that we in the heart of the empire are unfazed by their little rebellion.” She explained. 

Blue didn’t know what to say. Yellow less so.

“Your Majesty.” The queen’s eyes slid to her and Yellow could see it, the queen was looking at her, yet it felt like she couldn’t see her, like she was invisible. Yellow powered on regardless.

“The front line at Fort Luna shifts by the day, Princess Azurine and Rosaline could be caught up in the fighting at any moment, it isn’t safe for them there.” She made her case. Suddenly the queen was completely focused on her and Yellow knew instantly that that was not a good thing as the queen abruptly stood from her throne, glaring down at the knight from the dais. 

Blue and Pink both went stock still. 

“Are you questioning my orders, Captain Stone?” The question slid like ice down Yellow’s spine. 

“Not at all your Majesty. It is simply my assessment of the…” 

“I did not ask for your assessment of the situation, captain. If I needed an incompetent view of the situation I would have asked you.” The queen bit out. “I gave you a command and I expect you to have it carried out or I will appoint a knight captain who will. Do I make myself clear?” She looked down at the knight with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, your majesty.” She bowed again. Her face burned with anger and embarrassment. Anger that the queen was putting her children in blatant danger like this and embarrassed that Blue and Pink both had been present for her tongue lashing. 

Without another word to the knight or her daughters the queen turned on heel and left the throne room, guards following her out. 

Blue clenched her fists, now her mother was turning her fits on Yellow and sending them into possible danger. Once the queen had disappeared Yellow stood back up and Blue could see the anger and humiliation on her face. She tried not to let the empathy show on her face. Yellow was very proud and much as she wished to comfort her it would be ill received.

Pink watched her mother’s back till she had disappeared from view, fists clenched tightly at her sides. The more she interacted with her mother as of late, the less she recognized her. She was a familiar looking stranger. 

“I suppose we should go and pack for the trip…” Blue turned to her sister who could only nod. Pink looked just as happy about the situation as she or Yellow. 

The knight carefully avoided their eyes as they left the throne room and it made Blue frown. How badly she wished to walk up to Yellow and hold her, but she couldn’t, not just because of the people around, but Yellow would never allow it. Not so soon after being humiliated. 

With a sigh, she turned her back to the room and quickly made her way to her room to pack a few days worth of provisions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They were made to leave as soon as the younger royals had finished their packing. 

If Yellow had been angry before it was nothing compared to how furious she was when she was informed that she was the only guard accompanying the princess’. The queen couldn’t expend any more man power on this simple visit to the fort when more men were needed to secure the southern border. 

A border that was in no danger at all. 

 Yellow felt like she was about to combust.

She alone was being tasked with the safety of the only two heirs to the kingdom in what could instantly turn into hostile, than enemy territory. 

She stood behind the carriage and took deep breaths that were meant to be calming. As soon as Blue and Pink appeared they would go. It would be late in the night before they arrived at the fort. They should have left much earlier as to avoid any traveling at night along roads that could be plagued with bandits and thieves.

She had had her suspicions about the queens mental state when their orders changed by the second on the front. Just a week ago they had been ordered to take captives to use in bargaining for the return of their own captured men and in the next breath were told to execute them all.  

The rebels had retaliated in kind.

Now she was putting her children in needless danger. Yellow wanted to pull her hair out.

Suddenly two servants appeared, each carrying a case, the princess’ trailing behind them. Once the two cases were loaded to the carriage Blue waved them both away.

“That will be all, thank you.” Once they’d gone she turned to Yellow, looking around. “Who else is accompanying us?  

“It seems…” Yellow started. “That I will be the only one accompanying the both of you on this trip.” She managed to ground out. Trying to keep appear formal and in control.

Blue’s eyes went wide and Pink looked between them, face twisted in concern. “The queen can not afford to pull any men away from the southern border.” Just saying it out loud to the two made Yellow’s muscles strain and her blood boil. To be told to your face that your mother cared less for your well being than an imaginary threat, for which she had already dedicated three-hundred men. 

Blue bit her lip, watching the protruding vein in the captain’s neck that only ever appeared when she was on the verge of a monumental outburst. She had to be the calm and rational one for the three of them for now. Until Yellow was no longer on the verge of meltdown. 

“I have full confidence in your abilities, captain.” She smiled and laid a hand on Pink’s shoulder, hoping to soothe both Yellow and Pink, who had been jittery herself ever since they had been called into the throne room after their morning meal. 

“You’re to kind...“ Yellow mumbled. “We had best be going…” She held the carriage door open and with a last look at the knight Pink quickly climbed inside.

As she passed Blue reached out, laying quick caress to the knight’s cheek. Her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t worry...” She tried to soothe in the passing moment. It was all they had. 

Yellow turned her head away. Still feeling the morning’s shame mixed with her unspeakable fury at the situation at hand. 

It stung the eldest princess, but she understood. 

Once she’d climbed inside Yellow wasted no time climbing atop the thing and spurring the horses on, she wanted to be out on the road at night as little as possible. 

Inside Blue and Pink sat across from each other on the brightly upholstered seats in silence. The eldest with her hands folded in her lap and a frown pulling at her mouth as she looked out at the passing countryside. Pink studied the older woman intensely.

There was a lot she wanted to talk to Blue about… this trip they were suddenly being sent on, their mother’s growing instability and of course what she had witnessed in the library last night. 

Which had made her start thinking about something else. 

“Blue?” She asked about an hour after they had left. Her sister’s gaze turned to her, waiting for her to go on. There were so many questions burning on the end of her tongue, fighting to be the first to be answered. 

“Do you trust me?” She finally asked at last. This seemed to surprise Blue as her eyes widened.

“Of course I trust you, Pink. Why would you have to ask?” She blinked at the suden question.

Pink turned away, looking at the passing countryside, trying to decide what to say.

“Would you keep secrets from someone you trust?” She asked another question instead of answering her sisters, Blue’s brow furrowed in confusion and worry but she didn’t immediately answer. Pink turned to look at her and saw her looking down at her clasped hands.

“Sometimes, secrets are kept, not because of a lack of trust…” She started, cerulean gaze turning back to Pink. “...but simply for safety… some secrets are more dangerous than others.” 

“Is that why you never told me about you and Yellow?” She finally asked. The shock that suddenly spread across Blue’s face would have been comical if she still wasn't feeling stung that Blue had never told her about her romance with the knight captain.

Blue didn’t know what to say. Pink was looking at her expectantly but words just couldn't form in her suddenly dry mouth. She’d never prepared herself for the younger girl to ever find out. 

“How did you find out?” Blue finally managed to make her tongue move. 

“I saw you both… in the library last night... “ She shrugged. “You’re lovers, aren’t you?” 

“Pink…” Blue started, licking her lips. Trying to bring back the moisture that had so suddenly left her body. She sighed. “Yes” She finally said, going slack in her seat. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? You don’t trust me?” Pink leaned forward. Now that Blue had confirmed it for her, her questions were burning in her mind. Blue rubbed her temple, a headache coming on.

“Pink, As I said, it’s not that I don’t trust you, you know I do, but this…” She waved a hand indicating her and Yellow. “... is dangerous. Forget about any punishment I’d receive, Yellow would be put to death!” She surged forward, eyes locked with Pinks as the girl shrank back into her seat. 

She knew that of course. She’d had all the same lessons as Blue growing up and one of the most important had been on who to fraternize with. 

Those vying for their hands had to be of certain backgrounds and lineages. The kind with money or influence and as much as Pink adored the knight captain, she had neither of these things. 

“It wasn’t something we ever planned…we just… fell in love and have been ever since.” Blue explained simply. 

“Since when?” Pink couldn’t help but ask. 

“Five summers, now.” 

“Five?!”  She marveled. All that time and she had never had even an inkling of the relationship Blue and Yellow had been having. 

“Rosaline” Pink was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by her sister as she knelt in front of her, hands on her shoulders. “You can’t tell anyone about this, you understand that don’t you?” 

“Yes, of course I understand.” She nodded vigorously. 

“Good” She sagged in relief, before climbing into the seat next to the younger.

After a few minutes of companionable silence it was Blue that broke the quiet. 

“How much did you hear last night?” She asked without looking. Pink looked down at her lap.

“All of it, I suppose.” She shrugged. 

“About mother?” She asked after a long moment.

The girl nodded, face falling and Blue sighed and wrapped an arm round Pink’s shoulders, she leaned heavily into the older, letting Blues arms wrap around her protectively.  The subtle orchid scented oil she had been wearing for years helped calm her. 

“Is there nothing we can do for her?” Pink mumbled into her sister’s long hair. Blue squeezed her tighter. 

“I don’t think so…” Blue’s sorrowful voice made Pink close her eyes. “It… will only get worse from here I’m afraid.” She dug her fingers into her sisters curly hair, smoothing the pale locks. “I’ve never seen her like that before… the way she acted to Yellow.” She glanced up at Blues face. It was no court secret that Yellow was the queen’s most favored knight. 

“No, and if what the court physician said is true she’ll act that way to us all soon…” 

“What do we do?” Pinks voice was small and quiet. A fourteen year old on the verge of losing their remaining parent. 

“I don’t know yet.” Blue admitted. “We will come up with something.” She promised, leaning them both back to look out at the trees and fields passing by the carriage windows. 

“Is Yellow alright?” Pink asked after a short while, thinking about how strained the knight captain had looked this morning. 

“She’s under a lot of pressure. We should have a group of guards, not a single knight, and don’t tell her that I said this, but she’s still ashamed after this morning.” 

“Ashamed of what?” Pink pushed herself up to look at Blue. “Everything she said was true!” Pink scowled. It made Blue smile to see the girl defend the captain so. 

“I know it was… but Yellow is very proud though, Pink, she hates that you an I were there to witness her humiliation.”  

“She has nothing to be ashamed of...” Pink grumbled. Leaning back into her sister’s embrace. Blue smiled at her.

“No, but she has her pride. So it's simply best if we don’t talk about it in front of her, yes?” She felt Pink nod against her collar.

They stayed that way for a while, watching the sun inch it’s way across the sky. Neither had said anything in quite some time, in truth Blue was sure the younger girl had fallen asleep, so it surprised her when she spoke up out of nowhere.  

“How do you know? That Yellow loves you I mean?” She’d been wondering how her soft sister could fall in love with the stern knight.  

Blue hummed as she thought about how best to answer that question in a way that Pink would understand. 

“She tells me, of course. I know that isn’t what you mean though.” She quickly finished before Pink could interrupt. “It’s hard to describe truthfully. It’s a lot of things.” 

That was of course to vague for Pink.

“Like what, though?” 

Blue rolled her eyes despite the smile on her face. 

“Like… the time we took a basket of food out into the woods and halfway through it started to rain heavily and she gave me her cloak to keep me dry on the ride back, even though she became soaked through and caught cold.” She finally said, shaking her head at the memory even as she smiled 

‘What else?” She prodded with a smile. 

“Every time she passes through the western territories she goes several hours out of her way to get the perfumed oil I love so much. ” 

Pink grinned as she watched her sister's eyes light up and a dreamy far away look came onto her face she recalled these things and wondered if Yellow would have a similar reaction. 

Probably not quite, given how she knew Yellow.

“What about something big?” Pink was having too much fun, listening to her sister and watching her face.

“Something big?” Blue glanced down at her. 

“Yes, some big romantic gesture?” 

“Yellow isn’t the type for large romantic gestures. She shows her love in little ways. The ways that let me know that she was thinking of me. That means more to me than any one grand gesture.” Blue smiled at the girl. She could only hope that one day Pink would experience a love like she had.

It was nearly dark when they finally began to get restless in the carriage. 

“She needs to take a rest.” Blue made a face, looking toward the front of the carriage where Yellow was.

“Does she ever do that?” Pink smirked to herself. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the captain was rather high strung most of the time.

Blue huffed, suppressing a laugh. “She’s been known too, on occasion.” She smiled as she slid one of the small windows at the front of the carriage open. 

“Yellow” She called, making the knight jerk toward her, immediately picking up on the less formal address. “Pull to the roadside.” 

“What? Why, is something wrong?” She glanced at her over her shoulder. 

“You need to take a rest. As do the horses. ” 

Yellow opened her mouth to argue but the look Blue was giving her right now was very clear. 

With a huff she tugged on the reigns, pulling the horses to a stop. Once the carriage had come to a full stop Blue stepped out, followed quickly by Pink who wasted no time moving toward the horses. 

Yellow climbed down, plate armor chinking and clinking together with every movement.

Blue could see that she was no longer fit to burst, the hours on the road had soothed her temper and pride but she still didn’t look happy. 

Blue had a thought and tried to keep the smile from her face as she walked up to the knight who was stretching out her back.

“Yellow…” 

The knight looked at her, blonde brow cocked as she looked between her and Pink standing not to far away. Blue smiled, reaching up and pulling off the gleaming golden helmet only making the knight more confused before Blue was pressing a kiss to her lips.

Pink watched the knights eyes nearly pop out of her head as Blue planted a kiss on her unsuspecting lips. 

She giggled as Yellow took Blue by the shoulders and held her at arm's length, face bright red.

“What are you doing!?” She wasn’t quite yelling but it was certainly panicked. 

“It’s alright.” Blue laughed, stepping closer as Yellow’s grip went slack. ‘She knows…” 

Yellow looked up at her.

“That doesn’t mean I want to watch!” Pink yelled, turning away from the two. 

She could hear them now talking quietly to each other, Blue was no doubt explaining how the younger princess had come upon their most closely guarded secret. 

“Pink will never tell a soul.” Blue assured. Running her hand down one of the knights still warm cheeks. 

“I trust her.” The knight nodded, leaning into Blue’s touch.

“Feeling better?” Blue asked gently, tilting her head. 

“I still don’t like this. It’s dangerous.” She growled, covering Blue’s hand with her own on her face. 

“Yes, but it will be alright,darling. We’ll spend the two days rousing the troops and return to the capital. It will be quick. So please, relax a little, for me?” Blue wheedled, leaning in close, their noses almost touching. 

“I will… try.” Yellow mumbled. 

“That is all I ask.” She pecked the knights lips again. 

Once everyone had sufficiently stretched their legs they were back on the road to the fort.  

It was a few more hours before the carriage again began to roll to a stop. 

“Were here.”  Blue said nudging her half asleep sister. 

“Huh?” She grumbled, trying to sit herself up. 

The carriage door opened and Blue quickly made herself presentable before stepping out, Pink hurrying to bring herself to full wakedness behind her. 

    It was dark but the many torches and fires lit inside the fort lit it up enough that the two royals could make out the high stone walls and the many soldiers gathered around the fires, eating or talking and more still laying injured and bandaged on the ground making quiet noises of pain.

Pink looked at all the injured men, their white linen bandages stained a muddy color. Some missing arms, legs or eyes.

Some looked like they had fallen into campfires. Their skin was black and charred, crackled like burnt out firewood.

 Blue looked at them sorrowfully, hands clasped tightly at her waist, carefully hiding the pity she felt at the sight of the mutilated soldiers. 

Pink was more open in her horror, eyes wide and jaw hanging ajar as she looked at the wounded.

Yellow for her part just breathed heavily through her nose. 

“Welcome to Fort Luna.” She grumbled under her breath to the two princess’.

[bonnie-ontherun]

THIS IS MY LOVE STORY

THIS IS MY LOVE STORY

It happened. The universe slightly shifted and a doorway opened. After eight years of secretly yearning for a certain man, he stepped through that newly created space, and the greatest love story I have ever experienced, began. 

My interest in this man took hold at a conference. I was walking towards an escalator, when I heard a voice floating over a noisy crowd. A beautiful voice that caused me to pause and catch my breath. “Who is that!” I thought. I waited. And I heard that voice again. It sounded closer. I stood still, my eyes scanning people’s faces to see who it might be. And then I spotted him. Black jeans, short sleeved black polo shirt, white runners, and a cap on his head. He was speaking to someone. His voice had a musical twang to it; sexy, steady, expressive. My whole being tingled. He laughed. My heart took a pause. And I thought, “I want this man. He is for me.”

The man I had no name for, began walking in my direction. I watched how he moved. Confident. Purposeful. A man comfortable with himself. Sure of his footing in life. He came nearer to me, pausing along the way to talk with people. My palms started to sweat. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Here he comes! Here he comes!” I told myself. “Okay, say something! Anything! Trip him, if you have too! Nope. He walked right by me, and I did nothing. I wanted to take his hand. I wanted to say, “hey, you. Stop. It is me. I am here now. It is our time. Pay attention.” Instead, I just stood in awe and watched his cute little ass keep on moving through the crowd. The moment passed. But the impact of his presence stayed with me. 

I looked for him during the remaining days of the conference. Went to each of his workshops. Plotted how I would approach him. Asked around casually about who he was, where he came from. Everyone seemed to know him. He came off as a good guy. But was he single? “Never married,” I heard. “Has a woman,” or “might have a woman.” I didn’t see him with any one person in particular. But I wasn’t sure. I mentioned my interest to a colleague who replied with enthusiasm, “chat him up!” Too shy. The conference ended and I went back home.

I thought about him from time to time over the years. Wondered how he was doing. I would see him at different events and my heart still raced a bit. I travelled with people he knew and he would stop to visit. I became tongue tied in his presence, and all I could manage was to smile, laugh at his little jokes. Listened intently to what he had to say. Hoped he was telepathic and could read my thoughts. 

I finally got brave enough to send him a friend request. I thought that maybe I could weasel myself into his presence somehow. He accepted. But we didn’t talk. I followed his posts. Never commented. Just wanted to read what he had to say. 

The last time I saw him, I entered the flow of conversation and talked with him a bit. Nothing significant. I can’t even remember what I said. He had come and sat with our little group for awhile. I joined his workshop and discreetly took pictures of him with my phone. I felt a bit foolish, but it seemed I could not help myself. My heart still pitter pattered in interesting ways whenever I saw him, and whenever he spoke. I still got that tingly feeling. I talked about my passion for him to my best friend for the umpteenth time. “Just talk to him!” she said. Okay. I would. The next morning, I would ask him to go for coffee or tea. The next day came and I couldn’t find him. He was gone. Poof! I went back home deflated. 

A few months went by and I got to thinking, there is always next summer. I could wait. I knew he would be at this place again. No more stalling! I would take the plunge and approach him with an invitation for a walk. I had a plan. And then COVID came along and everything was cancelled. Now what? 

Well, I still had those pictures I took. I could send him one and just casually say I thought maybe he would like to have it. I played around with the idea for weeks before I finally decided it was time to take a chance. I spent days planning it out in my head. Updated my profile pic, as if it would make a difference. And then just as I was going to announce my intentions to him, he sent me a message! And I panicked. I raced around the house like a goose with its head chopped off. I told my friend several times that he had messaged me. Asked her what I should say. She laughed and said “I don’t know! Just talk to him.” So I did. And a few months later, here I am. Here we are, him and I. Us.

He is like no one I have ever met before. His voice is beautiful. He is sexy and handsome.  Kind and funny. He has an interesting mind. I love how he thinks. How he talks. He has integrity and doesn’t waver from his core beliefs. He walks his own path and doesn’t judge others for walking their own. He is full of beans like me but knows when to be serious. He does not impose his will on me. Balance is the bottom line. He cares about how I feel and what I think. He tells me that I am cute and funny. Loves my voice. He believes I am beautiful inside and out and tells me so all the time. A day doesn’t go by that we haven’t spoken several times through messenger. We video chat frequently. Send voice clips back and forth. Keep our connection consistent and lively. 

My heart overflows with love for him. I love him with a depth I could not have fathomed. Affection, anticipation, desire, enthusiasm, passion, respect, tenderness, trust...the list is infinite. He drives me crazy with lust. He constantly fills my thoughts. I lay awake in my bed for hours thinking of the many ways we will enjoy each other’s company. He is my last thought as I fall asleep and my first when I awake. My dreams are filled with our future. 

  COVID prevents us from closing the geographical distance between us that currently exists. I am not worried. Our love will outlast the virus. We have time and patience to plan for the day we can hold each other and never let go. In the meantime, technology continues to keep us connected. 

I never thought I would embrace cyberspace with such fervor. We get to know each other in ways that takes us to different depths, than if we were dating in person. Messages are constructed with deliberate thought and care. Words are carefully considered; vetted and chosen for the most optimum impact. Long pauses between conversations allow for contemplations of their meanings. Voice clips captures tones and nuances that are harder to express in written word. Video chats explore thoughts and add substance. We are creating our love story. One heartbeat at a time. And we are having great fun! I love you babe, see you soon. 

[marlettwrites]

Day 20: One (or both) is Injured

Alternately, Jude makes friends with the local cryptid.

Jude clambered up the increasingly steep hill, using his hands as well as his legs to propel him now. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered with such a difficult climb, but Seben and Tabu had both insisted the top of Serpent’s Ridge offered the best view on the island. Once the thought had wormed its way into his head, Jude found he couldn’t let it go.

His curiosity demanded he know what lie at the top of that mound.

“How much further?” Kul called from behind him.

Jude looked up, squinting in the midday sun.

“Just a few more feet, I think. It looks pretty flat up ahead,” he said.

“Great. This bag is getting heavy.”

Jude turned to look at the heavy sack hanging off his boyfriend’s shoulders. He frowned.

“I told you I wouldn’t  mind carrying it for a bit.”

“No,” Kul dismissed with a wave of his hand, “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“Okay,” he muttered.

“O-kaaaaayyyy,” Kul mocked him playfully.

“Oh my gods,” Jude said, “You’re such a child.”

In response, Kul stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at him.

“How childish was that?”

“Hmm. Only a lot.”

Kul let out a short cackle.

Jude pulled himself up and onto the top of the hill and held out a hand for Kul. He took it and pressed a soft kiss to Jude’s knuckles. The pink tinge in his cheeks and the way his hair moved in the breeze were almost enough to make Jude’s heart stop.  He watched as Kul’s eyelashes fluttered gently against his skin.

Kul then dropped his hand and stubbornly scrambled the rest of the way up the hill unaided. He seated himself beside Jude, allowing his legs to dangle over the edge.

“You were supposed to let me pull you up,” Jude mumbled.

“You know I never do what I’m supposed to,” Kul offered a cheeky smile.

Jude only rolled his eyes in response. Instead of Kul, he chose to focus on the view of the island from his new vantage point. Date palms and fig trees dotted the land, broad leaves hiding the straw tops of the huts that lay below. Beyond that, he saw the edge where the trees met sand and where sand tapered off into the red sea. From behind, he heard the roar of that same sea crashing into the cliffside.

When he squinted, Jude found he could even make out the long oily line that made up Apep’s constantly moving body. The great snake could rarely afford to rest. The beaches that lined the island were many miles in length, and though Apep was large enough to encircle it all, they only had one head.

“Finally,” Kul said, dropping the rucksack between them, “Lunch.”

They spent the next few minutes eating honeyed bread and fruit. Between bites, Jude did his best to describe the view to Kul. Even while echolocating, his boyfriend couldn’t make out much more than vague shapes past ten feet.

After awhile, Kul stood and stretched, electing to explore the little outcropping a bit more. Jude’s gaze lingered on his face a little longer than necessary. Once he realized he was staring, Jude turned his attention back to the tiny huts far below. Squinting a little, Jude thought he could almost see Egypt’s shore.

Not for the last time, he wondered how Braheem was doing.

A sickening crack followed by the word “Shit!” promptly drew Jude from his thoughts.

Jude spun around. Kul sat hunched over his leg, and since his back was to Jude, he couldn’t quite see what happened. He hoped Kul had just tripped and startled himself. As he drew closer though, it became increasingly obvious that Kul’s leg was both wedged between two large rocks, and very much broken.

Rushing to his side, questions poured out of his mouth before Jude even realized he was speaking.

“What happened? Where does it hurt most, and how bad is it? Are you stuck? On a scale of one to ten-”

Kul threw up a hand to silence him.

“That’s a lot of questions, Jude. One at a time, please,” Kul’s voice sounded strained.

Forcing himself to calm down, Jude switched his focus to the injured leg. It was bent oddly in two places, and he internally groaned. One break was bad enough, but two? Shaking the thought from his head, Jude reached forward. Best to get it over with and hope that the magic imbedded in Punt’s core helped him heal faster than he would in Egypt.

Just before he touched his boyfriend’s knee, Kul caught his wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Jude blinked at him, confused.

“I’m going to heal it. What else would I be doing?”

“I don’t know. Making a splint? Going to get help? Doing anything that doesn’t end up with you in excruciating pain?”

Kul’s teeth were clenched tight, something made obvious by his taught jaw. Whether because of pain or anger, Jude didn’t know.

“If I make a splint and set your leg, you’ll be in pain for at least a month. If I heal you, I’ll only feel it for a few days. It’s better that way,” Jude explained.

Kul scowled.

“Jude, no. We talked about this. You can’t give up anymore time because of other people’s stupidity. That includes mine.”

“But-”

“You think I had trouble getting the rucksack up here, imagine the issues I’ll have trying to carry you down that hill.”

Jude considered this. After wrenching his wrist from Kul’s grasp (Jude suspected he was only holding on that tight because of the pain), he stood.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go find some sticks and make a splint, but I’m not leaving you up here alone.”

He didn’t give Kul the chance to respond to that, as he knew the other boy would insist Jude leave him in the name of finding help.

A five minute long search yielded two perfectly straight sticks. After easing Kul’s injured leg from between the two rocks, Jude quickly got to work, setting the bones back in place to the best of his ability. He built a quick splint using the two sticks and one of the rolls of gauze he always kept on his person. As he worked, he mulled over what to do.

They couldn’t both stay on the cliff- they only packed enough food for the day, and had devoured most of it. He couldn’t carry Kul down the hill, that presented too much of a risk of one or both of them falling and splitting a more vital bone than a fibula. A cracked skull, for instance, would be very bad. Jude tied off the gauze and stared blankly out into the distance. Beyond the trees, that thick black line still sat. Watching.

Jude almost smacked himself.

Apep could get them down and to the mouth of Tabu’s cave in minutes.

The only problem was getting their attention. Normally, this was a non-issue. The great serpent loved foods of all sorts, and tried to keep their head around the South beach, as Jude often visited with samples of snacks. Now, however, Jude had no idea what part of the island the head was currently patrolling.

“You should go get help. I’ll be fine here for a few hours-” Kul tried again, but Jude cut him off.

“I’m not leaving you. When I get Apep’s attention, I’ll ask them to carry us down, and everything will be okay.”

Kul groaned.

“Apep? Really? The same snake that almost let you bleed out on the beach because of a technicality in a stupid rule?”

“They’re a nice snake,” Jude defended, “Just a little lonely, I think.”

“Oh my gods,” Kul moaned. “Fine, but if I have to sit here listening to them hem and haw over whether they can really spare the time for more than five minutes, I’m going to climb down this hill myself, consequences be damned.”

“It won’t come to that,” Jude said. Hopefully.

He dug around in the rucksack, searching for any leftovers. Apep would come quicker if they smelled food. Triumphantly, he pulled an untouched apricot and a half-eaten slice of olive bread that he’d planned on saving for later from the bag.

“How’s your pain?” Jude called over his shoulder.

Kul looked thoughtful for a moment. He reached out to poke at his leg.

“Don’t,” Jude snapped.

Kul shrugged at him, but dropped his hand back onto the ground.

“It hurts, but it also feels weirdly numb, so not too bad I guess.”

Jude nodded.

“Good. That’s how it should feel.”

He gathered the leftovers in his arms and headed to the cliffside. Looking down at the crashing waves below, Jude found himself struggling to breathe.

Don’t look at it, Jude instructed himself firmly, Don’t think about it, it’s not there.

He chose instead to focus on the over-ten-tree-trunk-thick mass of brown and golden scales arcing over the water.

“APEP!” he yelled, shouting as loudly as possible. “I NEED HELP! KUL’S HURT!”

The mass kept moving, scales shifting constantly. Jude sighed to himself.

“I have food,” he called, not quite as frantic this time.

The scales stopped shifting. Slowly, they began moving in the opposite direction. Ten seconds later, Jude was staring into a giant golden eye that opened larger than he stood. Apep rose to stare at Jude curiously. Their gaze darted between him and the leftover pieces of food he held. Apep seemed to smile.

“Jude! What a pleasant surprise to see you on this side of the island!” Their voice boomed in his head, neither masculine nor feminine. He heard it plain as day, but not in the way one ‘hears’ a noise. “I see you brought me some snacks. That was very kind of you. I do need to keep my energy up.”

Something large and pink darted out from their mouth, reaching for the olive bread. Jude leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the giant forked tongue.

“No,” he said sternly, “I need you to take me and Kul somewhere first.”

The giant cobra settled the tip of their chin (did snakes have chins? He needed to research that when they got home) on the cliffside and stared at him forlornly.

“And here I thought we were friends.” they whined. “But you only want me around when you need something from me,” they followed this dramatic statement up by throwing their head back and wailing.

“Kul is hurt and we need to get him down to Tabu’s cave as fast as possible. His leg is broken in two different places,” Jude stated, decidedly unamused by Apep’s antics.

The wailing cut off abruptly.

“I don’t see why you need me for that,” they sniffed, “You’re the healer. I’m just the healer’s ride, apparently.”

Apep pretended to sob now. Loud, hacking, obviously fake sounds rang out loudly in his head. Jude grit his teeth.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to eat this delicious olive bread all by myself then.”

Apep turned another emotional one-eighty. They gave a little fake sniffle.

Jude wasn’t so naive as he used to be. He knew snakes didn’t have tear ducts, and so weren’t able to cry. Apep enjoyed being the center of attention a little too much.

“Olive bread? You brought me olive bread?”

“Not if you don’t help me get Kul to Tabu’s cave.”

Apep considered this. They hovered over the edge of the cliff for a moment. Finally, they nodded. Apep pressed their snout to the side of the cliff, creating a very sturdy and flat platform for them to stand on. Jude breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Peps,” Jude said.

Apep grunted in response.

Jude helped Kul to his feet. With Kul’s arm and most of his weight slung over his shoulder, they hobbled onto Apep’s nose. Jude sat in his usual place between the serpent’s eyes and slowly lowered Kul onto his lap. Kul hissed and gripped Jude’s hand in his own, nearly crushing it with how hard he was squeezing.

“Maybe it hurts a little more than I said,” Kul muttered.

Jude wrapped his free arm around Kul’s middle. Burying his face in Kul’s neck, he said, “It’s okay. Tabu’s gonna fix you up. You’re safe now.”

Kul hissed again. In Jude’s arms, his entire body tensed up.

“I know, I know,” he said. “And thank you. I didn’t say it before, but I was really scared of being left alone up there. I’m glad you didn’t listen to me.”

Jude rubbed comforting circles into the back of his hand. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Kul’s cheek. Apep lowered their head to the ground with a dull thump!

“We’re here,” Apep called. “Now get off and hand over the bread before I puke.”

Thank you for reading!

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[welllpthisishappening]

The Gift Receipt (5/5)

It genuinely makes sense in her head.

After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works.

Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously.

That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 9K+ Reunions deserve adjectives AN: If there is one thing you guys can always count on from me, it is a happy ending and kissing and the good guys winning. I don’t know that there’s winning here, but there’s definitely the other things and while stories sometimes have some angst, it’s always my goal to make sure that angst makes sense in character and, like, the real world. And there’s payoff. Here’s hoping you also think the payoff is worth it. As always I can’t thank you guys enough for letting me constantly throw words at you. It’s nice. 

Also on Ao3 and FF.net if that’s how you roll.

She doesn’t call him.

She thinks about it. She considers it. She does...not much else for the next few days.

Emma stares at her phone and stares at the number in her phone and the text message conversation that sparked this whole goddamn, stupid thing because that’s exactly what it is. It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous and a little juvenile and decidedly immature because she knows she’s running away, but she’s also very good at running away and it’s not like he’s called her.

She rationalizes that particular point at four in the morning three days after Christmas, while she’s parked in her car in Astoria and, at that point, it feels like the most important thing in the world. It becomes less important forty-five minutes later when Emma’s heat is starting to sputter and her fingers are starting to take on a distinct blue-type hue and she’s typed and deleted the same message sixteen times.

On the fifth day she actually uses the system at work to try to track down Will Scarlet’s personal contact information because some absolutely insane part of her brain thinks that’s the best approach, but August walks in on her and--

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I work here,” Emma replies cooly, not looking up from the computer screen and that computer must be nearly thirty years old.

“What time did you get home last night?” “I don’t see how that’s your problem.” “Emma.” “Booth.” August shakes his head, the floor creaking under his feet when he moves further into the office and that should probably be a sign to both of them that they should be looking for another office. Emma is only a little worried the computer in front of her is going to explode.

“Emma,” August repeats, covering the screen with his palm. She groans.

“You’re going to get handprints all over there.” “We’ve got Windex somewhere.” “Can you use Windex on a computer?” August shrugs. “It’s like a TV right? God, I don’t care. That’s not important. What the hell are you doing here? If you’re going to try and get that Heller guy, you cannot be here today. It’s against the rules.” “Since when are you one for the rules?” “Ok, well, that’s rude. What’s going on with you?” “Nothing,” Emma lies, and the word feels heavy on her tongue. It feels like it’s settled into her soul too, a constant source of cold and disappointment and she should have just called him. They shouldn’t have left Storybrooke.

She’s considered driving to Boston more than once.

“You going to make a New Year’s resolution to become a better liar?” August asks, finally  moving his hand and he’s not even remotely intimidated by Emma’s glare. “I’m serious about the overtime. If you’re clocking this, I’m not paying.” “You’re a benevolent leader, Booth.” “I’m being honest with you. See how that works?”

“And about as subtle as a pound of bricks.” “Occasionally that’s what it takes to get through to you,” August grins. Emma makes an incredibly unprofessional noise, widening her eyes and opening her arms like that will make her boss contradict himself. It only makes him laugh.

And she couldn’t find anything about Will Scarlet except the fact that he graduated from UMass Amherst and was part of the same frat she’s, like, seventy-two percent certain Robin was in.

That’s not really a lead though and Emma is usually better at this.

She refuses to acknowledge all the reasons she’s currently not.

“Wait, did you say that Heller guy?” Emma asks suddenly, like her brain has finally caught up to the conversation that will, actually, pay her. August nods. “Reportedly spotted in Mott Haven.” “Ah, the Bronx? C’mon, that traffic is going to suck.” “‘Tis the season for bums to try and run out on their bail and their families.” “God, that’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.” August shrugs again, undeterred by depressing or anything that doesn’t immediately lead to a paycheck. “Someone I know up there saw him over by the St. Mary’s Dog Run.” “The Dog Run?” If August shrugs again, Emma is going to throw the computer at him. Then they’ll have to get a new one. August will make her pay for a new one. “What do you want me to tell you, Emma? This Heller guy is a dick. He’s hanging out in Mott Haven, apparently, I guess his girl’s got a thing for dogs.” “Did you swallow a 1940s gangster?” “You want to go up there tonight or you want to keep making quips that only you think are funny?” “Is that honestly a choice?” Emma asks, clicking a few more buttons and there’s seriously nothing about Will Scarlet on the internet. Her phone is still frustratingly silent.

And maybe she’s a little upset about that too – because Mary Margaret and David got back to the city two days ago and Ruby is supposed to be back tonight and they’ve all apologized and checked on her and double checked for good measure, but that’s as much contact as Emma’s had and the whole thing has left her feeling decidedly empty and even more lonely and she can’t seem to get warm.

The sentiment of it all feels far too heavy handed. Even in her own head.

“No,” August answers. “Unless you want me to find someone else to do your job for you.” Emma groans, rolling her eyes and clicking again – shutting down the computer and grabbing her phone and her keys and she’s fairly positive the heat in her car is getting worse.

And she hadn’t been wrong about traffic. It takes her forever to get up the FDR and the Willis Avenue Bridge is inexplicably closed, so she has to drive up to Third Avenue and that’s an extra forty minutes she wasn’t planning on. Because those extra forty minutes are just enough time to come up with all the reasons she should not want to date Killian Jones.

Still.

Or start. Whatever tense is appropriate.

Emma parks outside the dog run, tilting her seat back and doing her best to get comfortable, but that’s a losing battle from the get-go. She left her gloves in the office.

“Damn,” she mumbles, scrolling through her phone and wondering if she can find somewhere to get coffee without possibly missing this guy. She doesn’t get out of her car.

She types sixteen text messages instead.

She deletes them all.

And the hours continue to creep by, voices on the street because it’s not New Year’s Eve yet, but that’s tomorrow and Emma assumes there are still people out there who feel festive. Not her, but she’s sure they exist.

Her eyes are starting to flutter around two in the morning, a blanket she forgot was in the backseat wrapped around her shoulders, when she spots him. Or, at least, thinks she spots him. He’s not more than a shadow, a flash of a face that just looks like an asshole and Emma’s barely able to get out of the car without tripping over her own feet.

Eventually she will assume that was also some kind of sign.

It’s an absolute miracle she’s missed all of the signs.

“Hey,” she shouts, and the guy doesn’t slow down. He glances over his shoulder, just enough light at the end of the block to see his eyes widen, and then breaks out a dead sprint, nearly knocking over three different people in the process. “Aw, goodman, shit, fu--” Emma grumbles, and she doesn’t actually lock her car before she starts running after him.

She needs to get a better car.

She needs to get...better, but that’s neither here nor there and Emma can’t ponder life’s great meanings when she’s trying to chase down one of life’s great dicks. It doesn’t take long to get within lunging distance, but that’s kind of a last resort thing and Emma’s side is already aching.

Heller runs over another person on the sidewalk.

“Oh my God, you know you can go around them,” Emma calls. That’s a mistake. It hurts to yell and the air is cold and it feels like it may snow again and--

“--Or you could just stop chasing after me,” Heller counters. He jerks to his left, darting down an alley and something in the back of Emma’s brain starts at that. He’s backing himself into a corner. Maybe she’ll do something to her car with her inevitable paycheck.

Maybe she’ll use it to drive to Boston. Probably not.

She’s an absolute disaster.

That will also, eventually, be her downfall – quite literally.

Emma chases him into the alley, barely keeping her balance as she rounds the corner and Heller chuckles when he clears the fence at the back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he asks.

“Is that not obvious? What kind of ass blows his bail the day before New Year’s Eve?” “Am I messing up your plans?” “You’re helping, actually.” “Yeah? Big ideas for the holiday?” “Are we bantering when I’m honestly getting ready to bring you back to the cops?” Emma asks, and Heller grins at her. It makes her nauseous. That may just be the running.

“That seems to suggest I’m going anywhere with you. Or that you’re going anywhere.” “Excuse me?” “You got a look about you, don’t you?” Emma gags, complete with a stuck-out-tongue, but that only makes Heller laugh and his confidence is unnerving. “What exactly is it you did?” she asks, jogging towards the chain-link fence and trying, rather fruitlessly, to find a foothold. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it had been raining before and cold and everything feels like it’s covered in a thin sheet of ice.

Emma included.

“Forgery,” Heller answers, as if that’s not a crime. “Pretty much anything I could get some ink on. Books, money, important documents.” “You’re a busy guy.” He hums, that same, infuriating smile plastered on his face. “Sometimes. Which is why, unfortunately, I won’t be able to go downtown with you tonight or whatever overused cliché you’d like to pick. I’ve got a previous engagement. And plans for the New Year. I’m sorry to disappoint.” “I’m not sure that you have, actually.”

Emma jumps at the same time Heller laughs, twisting her fingers around the fence and maybe Killian was right – maybe she does have fairly good upper body strength. That, however, only serves to make her think about Killian and her distinct lack of New Year’s Eve plans because there’d been no engagement in Storybrooke and Emma’s got some pretty strong suspicions about David and Mary Margaret and--

Her right foot slips.

She scrambles for purchase, trying to find to find, something, anything to hold onto and the irony of that is not lost on Emma. She hates it, but she’s willing to acknowledge it, even as she’s crashing a few feet onto the incredibly unforgiving ground underneath her.

Emma doesn’t quite scream when her ankle turns underneath her, the actual crack of it echoing in her ears and her soul, but she might whimper and that is, somehow, ten-thousand times worse.

The tears burn her eyes immediately, a biological reaction that feels particularly weak in the situation, and she grits her teeth to stop herself from making any other noise. The blood rushes from her head, trying to get to the ankle that she’s only a little worried is actually broken and everything feels cold and spins and it’s as if her stomach has leapt into the back of her throat.

Emma gags again, bringing her hand to her mouth like that’ll help. It only proves how goddamn cold her hand is.

She really needs gloves.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathes, tears landing on her cheeks despite her explicit refusal to cry over this and she doesn’t know what to do next. Her whole body is shaking and she hopes she’s not going into shock. That would suck. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, God, that hurts.”

She keeps talking, muttering curses to herself. No one comes. And Emma isn’t sure how long she sits there, but it’s got to be at least half an hour and she can’t stand up. She tries several times.

“Ok, ok,” Emma chants, twisting to try and grab her phone out of her back pocket. The screen is cracked now, which seems to make more sense than just about anything, but Emma can still make a phone call and her thumb hovers above her contacts list for a moment.

She calls Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret answers on the second ring.

And, somehow, doesn’t hit traffic on the FDR.

Or let Emma go home alone. Because she broke her goddamn ankle. And it might actually be the first time she’s let a guy get away, but some vaguely petty part of Emma’s brain is quick to also point out she let Killian get away several days before and her phone dies before she gets back to her apartment.

Mary Margaret goes home with her and stays with her and Emma knows it’s only a matter of time before she hears the not-so-soft knock on the door at six forty-five on New Year’s Eve.

Mary Margaret is cooking.

“Is your door locked?” Mary Margaret asks, not bothering to stop stirring whatever it is she’s stirring.  

Emma shakes her head, trying, and failing to get the remote off her coffee table. “I live in the middle of Manhattan. Also, what exactly is it we’re watching?” “Do you not want to be watching the New Year’s Rockin’ Eve preshow?” “Why is this still on? Why is there a preshow? Why do we as a society allow Ryan Seacrest to keep hosting things? He’s so awkward. It’s painful to watch.”

The person at the door knocks again. It doesn’t sound like one person. Emma is going to seriously mess up her throat if she keeps groaning. “That was certainly a lot of questions for someone who claims to not care about New Year’s Rockin’ Eve,” Mary Margaret says, moving towards the door with a bowl on her hip and Emma is only too aware that they’re not talking about New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.

The lock clicks and there’s a few mumbled words spoken in the doorway, quiet promises to behave and we went over the rules in the car over here and Emma can’t help but grown again. She slides further into the corner of the couch, bringing a blanket down with her in the process and Ruby is holding a plate of baked goods she absolutely, positively did not bake when she stalks into the living room.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Where’d you get those cookies?” Emma challenges, and Ruby practically growls in response.

“Is it bad?” “You’re the one who brought the cookies, not me.” “Are you on morphine or something? If you’re on morphine, then I can almost rationalize this.” “This?”

Ruby nods, and Mary Margaret mutters something that sounds a hell of a lot this is not what we agreed on. “This,” Ruby repeats. “Making ridiculous decisions and going after some creep in Mott Haven. You know how sketchy Mott Haven is?” “I’m perfectly aware of how sketchy Mott Haven is. I’d imagine that’s why the lowlife I was trying to get back to jail was hanging out in Mott Haven.” “You’re avoiding my question.” “There have just been so many, it’s been difficult to keep track.” Ruby deflates at that, some of the fight almost visibly falling out of her and Emma resists the urge to make a quip about fangs retracting. “Have I apologized for...everything in the last twenty-four hours?” “My phone is broken.” “Ah that sucks.” “Yeah, it’s almost as bad as the broken ankle.” “It’s broken?” Ruby shouts, and Emma winces when it sounds like the words reverberate off her walls. David clicks his tongue in reproach. “What? You didn’t mention that. I just knew you were hurt and...well, you called M’s and--”

“--You are a newlywed,” Emma reasons. “You should not be driving me to the ER two days before New Year’s.”

“You don’t have to keep using that as an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse.” “Eh,” Mary Margaret contradicts, and Emma doesn’t entirely expect that. She’s kind of forgotten Mary Margaret is standing there.

Emma tilts her head. The ice on her ankle is leaving a small puddle on her coffee table. “Was that an unvoiced opinion, Mary Margaret?” she asks. “Or just a rather sweeping judgment?” “A little bit of both.” “We’ve all got a little bit of both,” David adds. “Some of us more than others.” “Ok, well, there’s no need to be a jerk about it,” Ruby grumbles, moving to perch on the edge of the table and she hisses when she notices the condensation. “When’s the last time you changed your ice? Should you be alternating with heat?”

“The doctor said ice until some of the swelling went down,” Mary Margaret says before Emma can answer.

“How long is that going to take?” “Well, he said it was a clean break, so that’s a good thing and--” “--Is it?” “Yeah, he said athletes come back quicker from clean breaks than like...I don’t know shards of bone or something.” “Emma’s not an athlete.” “Hey,” Emma snaps, but no one is paying attention to her and Ruby keeps jerking back and forth. It makes grabbing a cookie very difficult.

Mary Margaret makes a dismissive noise in the back of her throat. “True, but she does do physical things regularly and the doctor was pretty adamant she’d be up sooner rather than later, but then he also kept talking about the ice and, well, her ankle is kind of...purple.” “What?” Ruby screeches, Emma squeezing her eyes closed like that will make the noise less abrasive. She’s fairly certain she’s had the same headache for the last six days now.

“This is why we’re constantly icing,” Mary Margaret says. “There’s a whole plan and--”

“--And I didn’t know the plan.” “Well, you were just getting home and--” “--If Emma’s dying, then I want to know and Belle wants to know and she’s not totally alone and--” “And we’d all really like to make sure you’re ok,” David says, quietly but with enough something that everyone in the apartment seems to freeze. Emma wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan Seacrest froze in Times Square too. “You know...maybe more than just your ankle.” “My ankle and my overall state of being are not intrinsically related,” Emma mutters. David doesn’t try to hide his scoff. Ruby rolls her eyes.

“Ok, well, that was just incredibly bad,” Mary Margaret says. “You’ve got to practice that if you want us to believe you.” “We’ve known you way too long, that’s why,” Ruby mumbles conspiratorially. That time she winks. “Almost as if we can tell when you’re really feeling something.”

“God, you should practice that too.” “I wasn’t actually trying to lie. Emma was.”

“The judgments just keep on coming, don’t they?” Emma asks, and they’ve apologized to each other more in the last week than they have in the entire time they’ve known each other.

“And you keep dodging the question,” David points out.

She sighs, shoulders slumping with the force of it, but he’s right about that too and Mary Margaret might actually be baking something and if the scent is anything to go by, she’s definitely making cinnamon rolls. Emma’s heart thuds painfully in her chest.

It makes her ankle hurt.

Being awake makes her ankle hurt.

“We didn’t want…” Mary Margaret starts, moving back into the living room and letting David slings his arm around her shoulders. Emma’s probably ruined his proposal plans. Again. Maybe. She’ll feel bad if she wins that fifty bucks. “We’re sorry that we made you feel as if you had to bring someone home. As if you coming home with us wouldn’t just be enough.” It would probably be more comfortable if Emma’s ankle just fell off her body at this point.

“I know that,” she mutters, met almost immediately with three matching sounds of disbelief. “You know, in theory.” “We’re not playing a game here, Em,” David says.

“And I don’t think Jones was either,” Ruby adds. Emma snaps her head up so quickly, her neck cracks and her spine shifts and she nearly knocks her ice on the table. It’s mostly a plastic bag of slightly tepid water now. “It doesn’t make any sense for him to come back with you.” David swats at her shoulder. “What? I know, I know, and I agree with M’s, obviously, we shouldn't always be constantly trying to set Emma up with someone, but you know, love conquers all and she could probably use an emergency contact and--” “--Rubes,” three voices shout and she throws a piece of cookie at David.

“But,” Ruby repeats pointedly. “I’m just saying. Killian Jones was staring at Emma the entire wedding. They were both gone for awhile and then they came back and they were dancing and laughing and…” She shrugs when no one cuts her off. “A guy who’s not actually feeling something wouldn’t go to Storybrooke, follow the schedule and then look like he did when me and Belle showed up.” “Well, you were kind of yelling at him,” David mutters. She throws another cookie.

“If you keep getting crumbs all over my apartment, I’m going to strangle you,” Emma warns.

Ruby does not look threatened. “Can you even stand up?” “Not really.” “Then let’s get you some new ice and you can explain something to me.” Emma doesn’t argue – because she genuinely can’t stand up and she’s fairly positive her ankle is actually getting bigger and that can’t possibly be healthy – but the nerves in the pit of her stomach churn uncomfortably. David hands her a cookie.

“Figured you could use it,” he says with a smile.

“Thanks.” “You ok?” “If you start the inquisition before Rubes and Mary Margaret get back out here, they’re both going to be really annoyed with you.” “It’s not an inquisition, Em,” he says, resting a quiet hand on her slightly bent knee. “It’s how much you smiled while we were home and how easily you laughed and--” “--You’re getting sentimental on me, Nolan,” she accuses. He nods almost immediately. Probably when he notices the tears in her eyes.

Emma seriously cannot stop crying.

“I’m getting observant,” he corrects. “Did you call him?”

Emma shakes her head. And she’s almost ready for Ruby’s groan and Mary Margaret’s sigh, but she doesn’t look away from David and he doesn’t move his hand off her leg. “That’s stupid,” he says, serious enough that she can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I know it is.” “Ok, can we backtrack for two seconds?” Ruby asks, handing Emma hot chocolate no one asked if she wanted. “Because I’m still incredibly confused how you thought this was going to work. And like...why you haven’t called him.” “I don’t know that I ever really thought it was going to work,” Emma admits. “That was part of the appeal at first. We kind of knew each other, M’s thought we’d had a bad date, but the spirit of Christmas would do something and then we’d just get through the weekend.” The looks on their faces feel as if they cut their way through Emma – a mix of disappointment and sadness and being there since the very beginning. She grits her teeth, staring at her knees, but that only leads to staring at David’s hand as well and...damn.

She shouldn’t have called Killian to begin with.

She shouldn’t have done any of this to begin with.

She should call Killian now.

“That’s not really what I meant,” Emma whispers.

Mary Margaret drops next to her, an understanding look on her face that only makes Emma feel like more of a complete and utter dick. “I get it,” she says. “We are...overbearing.” “That’s one word for it,” Ruby laughs.

“Rubes, you literally tried to destroy Killian as soon as you got out of the car.” “Ok, no I did not. I just...wasn’t expecting it.” “Expecting what?” Emma asks, and it feels like an incredibly important question.

“For the two of you to be staring at each other like you had only recently discovered the sun.” “Or that the other one was the sun,” David amends.

“Either or, really.”

“It was very clearly and obviously romantic.” “And you only saw the end,” Mary Margaret mumbles, working a knowing laugh out of Ruby. “They disappeared at one point on Christmas Eve.” “Oh, can we not talk about that?’ David groans. Emma’s eyes widen to a size that cannot possibly be healthy, head snapping between a close-to-gloating Mary Margaret and an actually blushing David and Ruby’s laugh is going to make the neighbors complain.

“Before or after the pie?” “After. Emma didn’t buy pie.” “What?” “We made pie,” Emma whispers, not sure why she’s adding fuel to this particular fire, but it seems important and she’s still not one-hundred percent certain it was his mom’s recipe. She’s, like, ninety-nine point nine percent certain.

Once she can stand up on her own, she’s totally going to drive to Boston.

Probably.

Maybe.

She’s not sure what she can say to fix this.

“You made pie?” Ruby repeats skeptically. “Like...whoopie pie?” David’s head actually falls into his hands, the noise he makes not entirely human, and Mary Margaret nearly chokes on the cookie she’s eating. Ruby just arches an eyebrow.

“I’m not answering that question,” Emma says.

“Sounds like an answer.” “It’s not.” “You like him?” “Yes.” Ruby’s other eyebrow nearly flies off her face. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that so quickly. Are you sure you’re not on Morphine?” “I’m capable of having real, human emotions without artificial stimulants.” “New year, new you, huh?” Emma’s laugh is a little strained, but it’s a laugh all the same and it feels kind of nice. “Yeah, something like that,” she mumbles. “It was...ok, so I totally played myself.” “Yeah, I think you might have and I wasn’t even there.” “He gave her a ten-out-of-ten at karaoke,” Mary Margaret says. “And my dad told me about the mistletoe incident.” “There was a mistletoe incident?” “Do we really have to talk about this?” David begs, but both Mary Margaret and Ruby brush him off and Emma’s smile feels almost natural.

“No one is keeping you here, Nolan,” Ruby hisses. “There was a mistletoe incident?”

Emma nods. “And some other incidents. But--” “--No, no, Emma, you cannot do that,” Mary Margaret snaps, an out-of-character edged to her voice. “That’s...ok, so it may have started strange. And you may have gone into it thinking that it was going to end or had to end or we wouldn’t want you there if it was just you there which, again, is ridiculous.” “So you’ve mentioned,” Emma says.

“Because I want you to believe it. We thought it when you were twelve and we think it now and we will think it whenever and we’ll...I don’t know, you can use our pie as your pie and--” “--We’ve got to find a different way to say that,” Ruby mutters, David barely keeping his laugh contained.

“The specifics of it aren’t important. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is how much we love you, Emma Swan. All year, but especially at Christmas because no one does Christmas better than us and you are part of that us. On an indefinite basis. No matter who you bring home.” She’s crying. She’s not sure if she actually stopped, but the specifics of that don’t matter either and David squeezes her knee when Emma actually sniffles.

“But,” he adds. “If you get to bring home a guy who stares at you like every constellation in the sky, then that’s kind of a bonus for us. We’re team Emma happiness.” “Every constellation, huh?” Ruby asks, twisting to glance at David. He nods.

“Take my exaggerated point for what it’s worth.” “No, he may know that,” Emma objects, and Mary Margaret looks triumphant. “He, uh...he was in the Navy. That’s like a sailor thing, right? Knowing the stars or something?” There are several nods and a few passably interested hums – a valiant attempt not to ask more questions that Emma will eventually appreciate. She twists her fingers together when the next few words seem to spill out of her mouth.

“I told him about Neal,” she says, ignoring whatever sounds her friends make at that particular revelation. “And that Christmas. And coming to Storybrooke. And there was a lot more than the mistletoe incident. But, I...ok, M’s you can’t interrupt.” Emma glances up at her own pitiful joke, Mary Margaret staring slack jawed at her. “The plan was not this. It was the opposite of this. It was supposed to be easy and it’d be some guy who came home and then was never heard from again, but…”

“You like him,” Mary Margaret finishes.

Emma nods. “And I’m being the world’s biggest idiot about it.” “Ah, that’s patented Emma,” Ruby muses, fingers flashing over her phone when she, presumably, updates Belle on what’s going on. “You really didn’t call him?” “I really didn’t call him. I told him that he went above and beyond what I asked him to do and then I drove out of Boston.” “Oh my God, Em.” “Please don’t. Anything you’ve said, I’ve already rationalized and unrationalzied and, that’s not a word either, so don’t bother mentioning that either.” Ruby laughs lightly, a quick salute that’s only a little patronizing. “There had to be a reason he agreed to go with you.”

“And,” David says softly, leaning towards Emma like he’s talking to Roland or Henry. It’s even more patronizing than the salute. “You don’t have to immediately assume everything is going to blow up in your face by default. He drank the wine.” “He drank the wine,” Ruby shouts. She jumps up, nearly knocking Emma’s leg off the table in the process and they’re a mess of explanations and more shouted questions and where’s your phone charger, just plug it in and call him and it’s so loud that, at first, none of them hear the knock on the door.

The second knock is a little more intent.

Like the knocker is determined. Or impatient. Or impatiently determined.

Ruby glances around – like she’s checking to make sure they’re all present and accounted for, and her brows pull low when she can’t answer the question she hasn’t actually voiced yet.

The third knock is more a rap of knuckles and a hint of frustration and all four of them turn towards the sound.

“Probably the Chinese,” Mary Margaret reasons. “I ordered just...way too much food.” “She knew we were coming,” Ruby whispers to Emma with a smile. She never actually had sat down, so it’s not much of a surprise when she jogs towards the door, the fourth knock sounding a little resigned to being ignored and Emma can barely hear her when she mumbles whoa on the other side of the apartment.

It’s difficult over the sound of the music.

The song itself is muffled – likely coming from headphones that had only recently been in ears – but it’s suddenly all Emma can hear and all she can think about and she inhales sharply when she hears the chorus, words imprinted on her recent memory and possibly her heart and--

“Yeah, it’s not the Chinese,” Ruby announces, moving back into the living room with footsteps following her and Killian’s eyes widen as soon as they land on Emma.

And her decidedly broken ankle.

“Shit,” he mutters, and Emma’s laugh is totally out of place considering the sound of his voice and the look on his face and she can’t figure out how he got here.

Her gaze snaps towards Ruby. Who immediately shakes his head. “Wasn’t me. No one told me until this morning.” “Ariel told me,” Killian says, not taking his eyes away from Emma. He looks exhausted, like the feelings she’s been feeling for the last six days have been transferred directly to his face. “Belle told her, I guess. And she said you, shit, Swan, did you break your ankle?” There’s a tremor to his voice, a shake that rattles its way down Emma’s spine and finds a spot next to the guilt in the center of her soul and the frustration between every one of her ribs and those seemingly always-there nerves in the pit of her stomach. She nods. “The fence was super icy. My foot slipped.” He exhales, body moving forward and arm darting towards her before he can stop himself. She wishes he wouldn’t stop himself.

She’s kind of made sure that happens.

“That happened at work?” “Yeah,” Emma mumbles. “The guy was a dick. Forgery and he made a bunch of jokes and there was some very unnatural banter and the whole thing hurt like hell.” “I’d imagine that happens when you break actual bones.”

“We went to the doctor.” “Yeah?” “The doctor said it was a clean break,” Mary Margaret reports, and Killian hums like he’s also a medical professional.

Emma can’t settle on what to look at. Her eyes keep flitting across his face, taking in every shift in expression – the quirk of his eyebrows and the twitch of his lips, patchy color on his cheeks as if he ran up the three flights of stairs it would take to get to her front door. There are bags under his eyes and it probably isn’t, but it looks like his hair is longer, curling slightly under his right ear and Emma bites her lip when Killian reaches up to tug on it.

“Where did you park?” Emma asks, a sudden question that’s not entirely rational. None of this has been entirely rational though and she likes him. And he’s standing in her apartment. Belle must have given Ariel the address.

Or he asked Belle.

All of their friends need a lesson in boundaries.

And, like, thank you cards or something.

“Somewhere illegally, I think,” Killian says. He takes a cautious step closer to Emma’s outstretched leg, eyes darting across her body and lingering on her foot. “That looks incredibly purple.” “It’s broken. Aren’t you worried about getting a ticket?” “Not particularly.” She’s not sure what sound she makes. It’s ridiculous though, she knows that, a scoff and guffaw and the audible version of visibly swooning and Ruby is already trying to tug Mary Margaret and David towards the door. “Well,” Ruby says. “I feel like this is our cue or something. Jones, if you get a ticket, let Nolan know and he can probably get you off or something.” “I can’t do that,” David argues. “Also Emma can’t actually stand up, so you’re going to have to change her ice.” “I am not an invalid,” Emma growls.

“Eh. I’m serious, are you going to change her ice?” It feels like a challenge and an expectation and Emma doesn’t hold her breath, but she also doesn’t exhale and that is absolutely the definition of holding her breath. Killian nods. “Of course.”

“Ok, good. Also, Em, you’re not going to win tonight, so, FYI.” Emma gapes at him. “Wait, what?” Mary Margaret asks, but Ruby is doing her best to dislocate her shoulder at this point and Killian’s still staring at Emma and she shouldn't be surprised they’ve delved into farce this quickly.

“Nothing, babe, nothing. New ice soon, Jones. We’ll see you later, Em.” “Sure,” Emma mumbles, and that requires her to exhale. The door slams behind them when they leave, a jolt of something working through the air that may just be expectation and hope and Emma’s not usually good at either one of them, but her eyes dart towards Killian again like those goddamn magnets are back and his almost-there smile does far too many things to every single inch of her.

“I’m sorry if you get a ticket,” she whispers. She’s an idiot.

Killian laughs, nodding towards the coffee table and it takes Emma a moment to realize he’s asking permission to sit down. She nods. And waves her hand. Seriously, the world’s biggest idiot.

“That’s still not your fault, Swan,” Killian says. “Your ankle is really broken? Ariel wasn’t sure.”

“I don’t...I don’t totally understand what’s happening here.” “You hurt your ankle.” “But you’re here.” His tongue flashes between his lips as soon as the words are out of her mouth, and Emma’s not sure if she should regret them. Probably. That’s been her mindset for most of the week. “Yeah,” Killian wavers. “I, uh...I’m not sure I’ve really had one coherent thought in the last six hours or so, if I’m being honest.” “It took you six hours to get here?” “It’s New Year’s Eve, love, there’s a considerable amount of traffic in Manhattan.” It feels as if her heart flies out of her chest, and it threatens to burst into confetti and rainbows and fireworks are kind of appropriate considering the holiday, as soon as he calls her love. Emma mumbles right, right under her breath and Killian’s laugh is distinctly lacking in any kind of humor when he leans forward to stop her from jerking her leg forward.

“You’re going to hurt yourself even more.” “I’m fine.” “Well, that’s good because I am absolutely losing my mind.” Emma blinks. “What?” “I’ve gotten some increasingly scathing reviews of my entire mindset in the last week or so, from both Ariel and Scarlet who seem to think I misplaced my brain at some point because I’ve been walking around in some kind of fog since Christmas.” “What?” “I can’t...Emma, I can’t get you out of my head and I genuinely think it may be driving me insane.” “That sounds kind of aggressive, actually.” He scoffs, a flash to his gaze that makes Emma smile and the tension in her shoulders nearly evaporates. She almost forgets about her ankle. “Yeah, it kind of is,” Killian agrees. “But...Belle told Ariel you’d gotten hurt and it might have been bad and I...shit, every single thing I came up with was worse than the last thing and A didn’t know what had actually happened, but she said Ruby was going to see you and I didn’t really think. I got in my car and I started driving and Belle’s probably researching ways to commit your friends without them realizing what you're doing because I think I mostly just screamed at her to give me your address once I got over the bridge.” The words get more manic the longer he keeps talking, and Emma’s breathing through her mouth. It can’t be very attractive, but her body feels as if it’s systematically shutting down and he came to New York. Because he thought she was hurt. Because he was worried.

Because he was worried about her.

“I can’t get you out of my head, either,” Emma whispers. Killian’s jaw drops.

“What?” “I feel like we’re going in circles.” “It’s entirely possible.” She laughs softly, letting her eyes fall closed and her head fall forward and she’s almost not surprised when his fingers graze over the side of her jaw. “It was an insane plan,” she mutters. “Absolutely insane. But I thought it’d give me some breathing room from my friends and my family and…” Emma lifts her head to find Killian staring at her, that same bit of wanting she’d been almost certain of in Storybrooke back on her face. “You told Aurora we didn’t want her key lime pie.” “It’s not even remotely festive, Swan.” “I know it’s not. But...no one had ever really done that. For me, I mean. I would have bought the pie and laughed about its lack of festivity and you wouldn’t let that happen. Like you cared and that...I can’t wrap my head around that.” “That’s decidedly depressing, love.” “It’s totally depressing. And I was ready for that all weekend. I was ready to just go through the motions and fake the whole thing.” “I didn’t fake anything.” “Neither did I.”

There’s no joke, no twisted eyebrows or vaguely attractive smirk. There’s just honest and certainty and Killian’s fingers lace through Emma’s as soon as he finds her hand.

“If I tell you that you were the gift I wasn’t entirely expecting because I was too afraid to actually ask for it, are you going to make fun of me?” Killian grins, tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth and Emma shivers when his lips brush over her knuckles. “On an indefinite basis, love.”

“Then I’m not going to say that.” “Probably a good idea.” “It’s more like Miracle on 34th Street anyway.” “That so?” Emma hums. “Yeah, you know without the kid. Maureen O’Hara doesn’t believe in much and doesn’t believe in romance or Santa Claus and then Santa Claus shows up and Fred? Is his name Fred?” “This is your reference, Swan, not mine.” “I think it’s Fred. Anyway. He shows up and he believes in Santa and there are letters and the US Postal service and then Natalie Wood gets her house on Long Island.” “Are you suggesting you want a house on Long Island?” “I mean, not yet. But you know, I don’t know. I’m open to the idea of Santa Claus and dating Fred. For real this time.” It’s easily the single most convoluted explanation of feelings in the history of romance, but it gets Killian to smile and Emma doesn’t expect the kiss. She hopes and that feels kind of in the spirit of things. The couch creaks when Killian leans against it.

And Emma feels as if she’s just waking up or only recently rediscovering oxygen, Killian’s fingers in her hair and her arms around his neck. They’re cautious with each other, both almost painfully aware of Emma’s decidedly purple ankle, and that’s only kind of frustrating, but she really doesn’t want to fuck up her ankle and she really, really missed kissing Killian.

He rests his forehead against hers when they break apart, smile still there. “Why’d you run, Swan?” “Why’d you agree to come home with me?” “I asked you first.” “I told you I wanted to date you.” “I drove to New York after convincing myself you were dead.” “I’m not dead.” Killian sighs, another quick kiss to her lips. “I know, love. And eventually my pulse will realize that’s a real thing.” “I’m sorry. For the pulse thing and the running thing, but that’s also kind of my thing and everything was so good. It was so easy to...just let everyone think we were whatever we were because--” “--It kind of felt like that’s exactly what we were?” “Exactly. And then it all blew up and I wasn’t sure I could deal with hearing that it was actually fake because I didn’t want it to be and I’ve never...I’ve never brought anyone home, and it was so easy for you to be home. It was so easy for you to feel like home. That shouldn’t happen.” She doesn’t mean to whisper the last few words, but her voice clearly does not care and Killian tucks his thumb under her chin when she tries to avoid his gaze. “It makes for a pretty good Hallmark movie, don’t you think?” “It’s way too angsty for a Hallmark movie.”

“Ah, yeah, that may be true,” Killian agrees, and he can’t seem to stop kissing her. He presses one to her cheek and the bridge of her nose, another just under her left eye and three across her forehead. Emma wonders if he’s following a path only he can see, but realizes almost immediately that she absolutely does not care one way or another as long as he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t.

That seems important.

“But the Hallmark movies admittedly probably don’t start with a good amount of lecherous staring and selfish decisions, so…”

Emma hums distractedly at that particular string of words, moving away from the reach of his lips to blink blearily at him. “Selfish? How?” “You weren’t concerned with the lecherous staring?” “Killian!” He practically growls when she shouts her name, tilting his head and catching her lips and that’s a little more aggressive. Emma nips at his lower lip, solely to get him to make that sound, and she nearly fist pumps when she does.

That would probably ruin the moment.

“God, I was so worried about you,” he says, and it sounds like the words fly out of him. Emma’s heart grows more than three sizes. Thirty-three sizes and then some.

“You’re bouncing around the conversation quite a bit.” “I know, I know, but…”  They dissolve into more kissing and more roaming hands, only stopping when Emma manages to kick her ice on the ground. “Swan.” “Ok, you do not get to chastise me for that. This making out is entirely your fault.” “Eh…”

“Explain your lecherous ways then.” Killian smirks. It’s stupid. “Well, I did kind of admit to it before. I knew who you were even before you gave that rather memorable speech and then you did give the rather memorable speech and I was...intrigued.” “That sounds kind of clinical.” “Not in that dress. Stupid attractive.” Emma burrows her head into his chest, Killian’s arm working its way around her waist to keep her pinned against him. He kisses the top of her hair. “Anyway,” Killian continues. “You were so certain about love and its ability to change people and that was fascinating and then you had that look on your face the entire time Mary Margaret and David were talking to you and--oh, was there an engagement yet?” “Nothing.” “Really?” “I think they were a little preoccupied parenting me.” “I doubt they regret that, Swan.” She hums noncommittally, letting her fingers card through the back of her hair. “Keep telling your story, please and thank you.” “Well, you had that look and then you left and Mary Margaret tried to turn me to stone. And then...I don’t know, I was walking before I’d even considered it. It was strangely like tonight, there were just more miles this time, but I barely said a word to Ariel and it was like something flipped as soon as I started talking to you.” “A good flip?” “The best flip,” Killian promises. “And then you call me and come up with this ridiculous plan and it’s...I normally go to Ariel’s, but she was going to be at Eric’s and I was going to be by myself. I wasn’t really upset about that until you called.” “God, this is the worst story,” Emma groans.

“It’s not, I promise, love. You explained the schedule and the system and the plans and it was, well, it sounded like every Christmas I wanted when I was a kid and that one Christmas I had when I was a kid and I found myself saying yes on the idea that maybe I could be part of that.”

Emma’s mouth hangs open. She’s breathing far too loudly. “So I said yes and it was greedy and selfish and probably the most childish thing I’d ever done, but you asked and I wanted and so I took my opportunity as it were. But then we got there and something changed.”

“Did it?” Emma asks.

“Rather quickly, actually. Almost as soon as we were informed there was only key lime pie available.” “The pie?” “The pie,” Killian repeats, thumb brushing under her eye. There’s a tear there. “Because I suddenly wasn’t there to maybe reminisce about something I had once, I was there...for you. And I wanted to be there for you. It was very easy to be there for you.” “Seems to be a trend.” “I’d like it to be.”

Emma takes a deep breath, and she hates that she closes her eyes, wants to spend several eternities memorizing the look on Killian’s face, but her body doesn’t seem to care about that either and one person can only deal with so many emotions at once.

She can only deal with so many emotions at once.

“Would you?” Emma asks, and his answering smile is a little nervous. She’s a little nervous.

She’s incredibly excited.

It feels like she’s radiating with hope.

“I think we’re pretty good at dating, don’t you think?” “Did we actually go on a date?” “I’m not sure if we did, technically. But plans were made, weren’t they? And, uh…” He reaches in his back pocket, twisting and balancing and he makes a face when Emma laughs at it, but she feels lighter than she has all week and that’s almost strange considering her distinct inability to stand up on her own. “Merry Christmas, love.” It’s a keychain – cold when it falls into her palm and Emma rubs the pad of her thumb over it, touching every crevice and makeshift crater and that’s exactly what it is because it’s the goddamn moon.

He got her the moon.

“You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso and pull it down.”

“I’ll take it,” Emma mutters. “Then what?” “I always thought the next part was kind of weird.” “You’re not going to tell me I should eat the moon?” Killian shakes his head. “I’m not. But I’d settle for agreeing to that date. I’d like to continue to be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future.” “I’m not sure George ever told Mary that.” “Maybe in White Christmas.” “I don’t think I’m Rosemary Clooney though.” “Better singer anyway.” Emma laughs, another kiss and more smiles and she can’t bring herself to let go of the keychain. “Returning stuff is a lot of effort anyway.” “That’s the spirit.” “You really drove here from Boston?” “I did,” Killian nods. “And, uh...well, it’s not entirely certain yet, but Scarlet’s finally started seeing sense and he thinks it might be a good idea to maybe talk about the Long Island aspects of piracy. So I can’t promise a house yet, but maybe an apartment. Some space on the sink. At least some of the bed.” “Some?” “You’re a bed pirate, love.” She shouldn’t be charmed by it, but it’s too easy and too normal and Killian’s eyes are far too blue when Emma makes a face at him. “Do you think it’s against the rules to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas a week after Christmas?”

“If it is, I absolutely do not care.” “Rebel.” “Of the festive variety. Are you telling me you have A Charlie Brown Christmas readily available to watch, Swan?” “On DVD. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it. Loudly.” He kisses her. And smiles. And kisses her again. “It’ll be our secret, love.”

And she cries at the end, because she always cries at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas and Killian kisses her cheeks until there aren’t any tears left. He switches her ice because he absolutely set an alarm and they fall asleep well before midnight, a tangle of limbs on her couch.

David doesn’t ask Mary Margaret to marry him until Valentine’s Day – a pointed it’s romantic, Emma, shot her direction as soon as he drops to one knee in their apartment, but she just hums and nods and Killian kisses the top of her hair.

It goes from there.

There are more holidays, regularly recognized or not, and Killian doesn’t ever get an apartment on Long Island. He moves into Emma’s. On Flag Day.

And she gets her exam results back on Slurpee Day. They get free Slurpees from 7-11.

There’s Halloween and Thanksgiving and another Christmas in Storybrooke and Ruth doesn’t ever buy Killian his own stocking. The thought regularly makes Emma bite her lip.

And there’s New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, a future and a life and more worries and they say I love you every day and Emma takes a cab to the Barnes and Noble on Fifth Avenue on what she later learns is National Walk to Work Day to buy Killian’s book.

She makes him sign it.

And eventually there’s another trip to Storybrooke and new members of the family with new stockings and Killian’s hand finds the small of Emma’s back. “You want to take a walk, love?”

She nods, moving towards the harbor and the docks before she realizes he’s directing her there and she’s not really surprised when he asks, because she’d kind of been hoping, but that felt a little selfish and she practically screams yes in his face.

There’s shouts from the other end of the street, a small crowd that had followed them because none of them had ever learned boundaries or collective control and Emma ignores all of them.

She jumps forward, arms around Killian’s neck and a smile on her face and she says yes again, like she’s trying to make sure he knows and believes and he tastes like Millionaire’s pie and mulled wine when she kisses him.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers when she pulls back, his answering smile somewhere close to blinding.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[illstickuinawormhole]

Loyal Guard

I am sorry that this is late, I had an idea of what to write, my brain said “we can do it” and then it crapped out and I had to pull this out of it while it decided to mule and go blank on me.

Written for @theclichefortunecookie for the @vldexchange Halloween edition

Word count (I lost count)

In a time when vampires ruled and werewolves guarded them as a matter of honor and pride, the unlikeliest events were set into motion.

There were two ruling castes of vampires: the fierce warrior Galra caste, who saw value only in strength of limb and glory in conquest; and the wise scholarly Strigoi, who saw value in contemplative study of the world and all it’s complexities.

In an effort to keep both castes from making war with each other, they agreed on a treaty with an arranged marriage as a show of good faith and hope for future progressive relations.

The Galra offered their only Omega female, the Strigoi offered their only Alpha male. The Galra hoped for more Alpha males while the Strigoi hoped for Omega females from this union.

At least… until the Galra Emperor sired a child, a son, before the ink had even dried on the treaty and marriage agreement.

So when the couple’s first child was born, a son, it was with baited breath and hopes that he would become an Alpha instead of the Emperor’s son.

The day Lord Keith was born was the proudest day in young Shiro’s life. He was still a young pup when Lord Keith was born and he was assigned to be Lord Keith's bodyguard. And while others guarded his charge, he trained hard to become the best of the were-guards as he could, considering how fiery his charge was turning out to be as he grew, Shiro was going to need it.

Unlike any of the Strigoi from which Keith ended up getting all his good looks from, he was as fiery and fierce as the Galra.

When Keith insisted on training with the were-guards, they let him, simply because they tried telling him no. Once. He put no less than five of their best trainees in temporary medical leave. Shiro and the other were-guards had to admit, for such a small vampireling, Keith was a force to be reckoned with.

The only one who ever managed to get to Keith and defeat him was the Galran Crown Prince Lotor. Primarily because Shiro refused to fight Keith himself. The rivalry between Lord Keith and Crown Prince Lotor had everyone on edge. Which caused murmuring and suspicion from the were-guards that the Galra Empire was involved the day Lord Keith’s parents were found dead from an assassination. Even though from the surface it appeared that they were killed by humans or even the Galran assassin group called The Blades of Marmora, but neither had ties with the Galra Empire. And suspicion grew when the deaths were investigated but without proof, it was all suspicion.

When Keith came of age to present as Alpha, Beta or Omega, everyone expected him to be an Alpha with his temperament, even though he was small.

When Lord Keith presented as an Omega, none of the were-guards could believe what happened next. The Strigoi and the Galra decided to exile the young Lord, alone. Though the Strigoi offered a small keep that would provide all of the young Lord’s needs and desires, it was a pittance compared to how they had treated him before exile. Shiro decided to follow Keith into exile.

Crown Prince Lotor seemed amused by such, telling all who would listen that it was obvious that Keith was an Omega, since he even had Alpha were-guards sniffing around him in hopes to claim the young Lordling. The only reason Shiro didn’t challenge the Alpha Crown Prince was because Keith called him off, telling Lotor that at least his were-guards knew their place and weren’t an unruly pack of jackals like Lotor’s were-guards.

Keith standing up for and even praising his pack might have been a large reason why Shiro’s whole pack decided to follow their Alpha pack leader into exile with Keith instead of choosing a new Alpha to lead them as they could have done.

Their trip to the keep was less miserable than Shiro had expected, even with Lance's whining about the lack of horses. Shiro was surprised that Keith didn’t complain about the lack of humans to feed from, Shiro offering his own blood to feed his charge which was a mistake, he later told himself, but he would do it again and again if Keith asked him. Shiro didn’t realize that if one was attracted to the vampire who was feeding from them, that it was a pleasure let experience indeed. Shiro’s saving grace was his armor and the fact Keith fed from his wrist.

During the trip, poor Pidge was so worn out, instead of making one of the others carry her, Keith happily gave her a piggyback ride. This kind side of Keith was a surprise to them all, even more so when Keith declared that instead of constantly calling him Lord Keith, that he was to simply be called Keith. Keith didn’t feel like the title of Lord really belonged to him anymore, with the exile, and so was happier just dropping the lofty title than keeping it.

A few years later, Shiro’s love for Keith only kept growing, but he couldn’t because he still considered Keith his charge, and himself not worthy of his charge's affection in any form. It didn’t help that Keith fed exclusively from him, without any real explanation why. Keith was the best Lord the keep had ever had, according to his subjects. The village that the keep ruled over thrived better than it had ever had before, with Keith's leadership as well as some advice and input from Shiro and a few others. They all enjoyed a time of plenty and many less worries.

Keith hired Hunk to be the keep's cook, claiming that Hunk’s cooking was far superior than any cook the castle he grew up in ever had. Shiro guarded Keith while both trained new recruits. Keith had Pidge in charge of all things involving numbers and calculations, claiming she was far superior at it than he was. Even Lance had a job, which Keith called 'being the people person’s as it was no secret that Keith did not enjoy anything that involved public speaking or even dealing with public matters. He refused unless he had no choice.

Shiro was not aware that Keith even suspected Shiro’s feelings for him were other than bodyguard-like until Keith managed to trap him in an alcove that had windows overlooking the gardens.

“Shiro, how do you feel about me, about us?” Keith asked curiously.

“I am not sure what you mean, m'lord.” Shiro hedged.

Keith frowned at him with a slight growl at the term. “I’m just Keith, Shiro. And you know what I mean.”

Shiro sighed and swallowed thickly, nervous and afraid that he would be sent away for having feelings that were not becoming of a bodyguard. “If you were not the Lord of the keep, if you were a were like myself and my pack, I would try to court you to be my mate.”

“And why don’t you?” Keith demanded.

“You’re the Lord of the keep and a vampire. It is frowned on.” Shiro stated.

“Even if I wanted you to?” Keith asked, stepping forward.

Shiro stepped backwards, getting pressed against the wall and trapping himself.

"Shiro, I've noticed the way you look at me when I feed from you."

"I don't know what you're taking about," Shiro breathed, avoiding eye contact.

With an inquistive hum, Keith leaned in. Just as Shiro thought he was about to be kissed, Keith switched his route and went for his neck, sinking his fangs in. Shiro couldn't stop the gasp that escaped him, clenching his jaw to keep from making any other sounds. He also clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching Keith in an untoward manner. He still didn't understand why it always felt so good having Keith feed from him. But deep inside he relished it. Keith however had no such misgivings, purring softly with every draw and swallow of Shiro's sweet and very addicting blood. Once he had his fill, he slowly and reluctantly withdrew, sliding his tongue across the puncture wounds to seal them. He took a half step back, remaining less than a foot away from Shiro to keep him from bolting.

"Your blood doesn't lie, even though you deny it and try to hide it. The only way your blood would be that sweet and addicting is if you love me, no other way would make it so." Keith states, watching Shiro's face as if daring him to continue to deny it.

Shiro slid down to one knee, bowing respectfully. "Please don't send me away, m'lord. It wasn't by choice but I wouldn't change it even if I could. I'd been in love with you ever since you incapacitated five of our best trainees. Please, I only wish to serve you, by your side where I belong."

"I do not wish for you to be by my side as a bodyguard any longer." Keith stated. Shiro flinched at that. "But as a mated pair. I want to be your mate and for you to be my mate. No other way. I don't care what those fools say is seemingly or not. Or what they say is taboo or not. I only want you as my mate, no other."

Shiro contemplated this for a moment before giving a sigh. "I will be your mate, Keith, but only if you do what you know you should do. I will fight by your side. I will be your sword and your shield and you will be mine." Shiro raised his head to show Keith that he truly meant it.

Keith slowly nodded in acceptance. "First the Strigoi, then Lotor and the Galra."

"I and my pack will be with you, Keith. And the other were-guards will be too, I am sure." Shiro states.

"Will you stand up already?" Keith snapped peevishly.

Shiro couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes m'lord." He said as he stood.

"Will you stop calling me that?" Keith griped.

"Maybe." Shiro teased.

"Will you kiss me now?" Keith asked with a slight pout.

"Yes, m'lord." Shiro teased with a chuckle, sealing his lips to Keith's before Keith could respond.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

@sigeven​ Merry (slightly late) Christmas!  I’m your secret santa! (Not sure how we ended up getting each other, haha) You requested some Mel and Virgil best-friend fluff, and I hope I was able to deliver! At first, Virgil was absolutely, completely, undoubtedly positive that this was a bad idea. 100 percent sure that Mel coming back to Aperture for frequent visits was only going to end in disaster.

As it turned out, he had been mostly correct.  His main worries stemmed from the idea of GLaDOS finding out. As, just as he had feared, their destruction of AEGIS had almost instant consequences, as GLaDOS was reactivated shortly after.  However, due to a stroke of dumb luck, Mel had showed back up after the facility had nearly blown to bits, and thus missed most of the heat from that particular event. However, Virgil was convinced that one of these days, GLaDOS would notice the slight distruptance in the older test chambers as Mel scaled old elevator shafts to get down to the parts of Aperture that both weren’t being watched like a hawk, and weren’t completely destroyed.  It was a careful sort of balance that often ended up just being somewhere along Virgil’s testing track, as it was marginally easier to keep her hidden that way. Of course, this all meant that he was constantly on edge. At least for the first few visits anyway.  Mel seemed to not have the slightest care, completely confident in her abilities to get in and out of Aperture whenever she wanted. Virgil recognized that she had been an olympian, but he couldn’t help but call some of this behavior reckless and cocky. To fair, he hadn’t exactly kicked her out, and found himself actually enjoying her visits. Once he had gotten over the possibility of being found out, that is. Mel proved to be good company even outside of death defying situations where partnership was a necessity and not an option. She’d walk alongside Virgil’s management rail as he worked, a seemingly never ending fountain of questions at her disposal if there was ever a need for conversation topics. As it turned out, the surface hadn’t provided the answers that Mel, a woman outside her time, had needed. It only gave more questions.  Ravaged by war, and left in tatters, the surface was a wasteland that Mel had mostly given up on.  How could she get answers about the time that passed from the fifties until now if there was no living soul to tell her? Well, Virgil apparently. Even after reaffirming that he was a maintenance core and not the fact core, Mel insisted on asking him whatever he knew about what had happened while she was asleep. At least in Aperture, if not the rest of the world.  How technology had progressed, more about the downfall of Aperture’s scientists, and of course, what happened with GLaDOS and the test subject who beat her. It had taken some coaxing on Mel’s part, but Virgil eventually caved, and shared what it was that he knew, and what he could look into using his wifi and connection to the facility.  He would’ve considered a detailed history on the creation of the modern turrets to be somewhat dull, but Mel listened eagerly, nodding along as she seemed to take in every detail that she could.    Eventually, when the conversation turned back to her, she’d offer to tell Virgil some stories of her own. Having already read her file, Virgil was assured that he already knew all there really was to know about the woman, or at least, her career.  Yet somehow, the human still managed to surprise him with various tales from her life off record. And that was how they ended up on the subject of what Mel called ‘The worst date she had ever been on,’ and how, after telling her anecdote, Mel had turned to Virgil with a grin that foretold a question that he could already tell that he wouldn’t want to answer. “So, did you ever end up getting that core’s serial number?” Virgil nearly fell off his management rail. “I- Uh...no, I’ve been...busy.” His optic flitted around, decidedly focusing on a broken panel in the corner of the room instead of looking at his friend, and hoping that Mel would drop the subject. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Mel’s eyes lit up and she picked up her pace a little to be standing in front of Virgil, so that he was forced to actually look at her. “I could help with that you know. What you need is a wingwoman, and believe me, I’m the best one you could ask for.” Virgil scoffed, rolling his optic. “You just finished telling me about what a horrible date you went on. That doesn’t sound promising.” Mel huffed, clearly insulted. “That was one bad date. Besides, I was- am- an olympian. I had the guys and the girls lining up around the block!” “That sounds statistically unlikely.” “Regardless, my point still stands. I could help set you up with that core. What’s the worst that could happen?” “Would you like me to list off all the possible answers to that question?” “No. Now come on, let’s go find ourselves a rainbow.”

And thus begun the second biggest mistake of Virgil’s life, right behind destroying AEGIS and letting Mel back in to the facility, which were tied for first place.  He wasn’t quite sure how Mel had convinced him, but it definitely had something to do with the winning smile and playfully pleading eyes. It wasn’t a long trip from where they were to where Virgil assumed the Rainbow core would be, but it was just long enough for Mel to give handfuls of dating tips that were near completely useless for a core and not a human.  However, as they finally approached the cranny that Rainbow’s silky voice could be heard coming through, Mel turned to Virgil, giving him the simplest piece of advice he had heard yet. “Just be yourself, don’t be nervous, and dear god don’t try your Cave Johnson impersonation on him, that was horrible.” With that, Mel slipped through the crooked panel, and gestured for Virgil to follow, albeit on a slightly different path, considering he had to follow the management rail, and thus take the long way around. By the time he got back there, he could already see Mel leaning against the wall, talking animatedly with Rainbow, who had paused on his own rail to talk to her.  His metal casing was slightly splattered with bits of multi-colored paint, and his optic seemed eternally lidded- and oh, he was looking this way. Virgil was turned around and halfway out of the room before Mel noticed, and quickly jogging over to grab him by the handle, preventing him from going any further. “And where are you going?” “I’ve had the sudden realization that there’s… a light fixture in the next chamber over that needs my urgent attention. As in, right now.” Virgil, feeling as if there was a rainbow colored optic burning a hole in the back of his casing, spoke quickly, as if trying to get all the words out at once. He didn’t have a tongue, though he was certain that if he did, it would’ve been tied into knots. Mel shot him a look. A look that one might have described as sympathetic, if not for the gleam that still remained in her eye, and the way she put her free hand on her hip. “Come on Virgil, it’s not that bad. He’s perfectly nice, and again, I’m going to be right there helping you along. Besides, I’ve already told him good things about you.” Virgil listened to his friend speak, uncertainty still running through his circuits like an electrical current. However, he found himself starting to shake some of the uneasiness the more Mel talked, and for a moment, was about ready to turn around on his own and get in there. “I… wait, what have you been saying about me?” Mel have a sort of hasty, cheeky grin, swivelling him around on his rail and practically pushing him forward. “That’s not important. Go get ‘em tiger!” “For the last time, I’m a maintenance core, not a-” “I get it Virgil.” By the end of the day- or whatever one could consider a day in a place like Aperture, where no time seemed to pass- Virgil had come to a conclusion. Smuggling Mel into Aperture under GLaDOS’s nose was no longer the biggest mistake of his existence. Letting her give him romantic advice definitely was.