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bloodycassian · 3 years

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** PT 2 Azriel x reader - enemies to acquaintances PT 2. ** - reader gets a backstory, they clear another enemy camp together and bond more. Azriel apologizes.

Slight TW for violence/domestic abuse mention. Trying to keep reader as genderless as possible but sometimes I inherently switch to using woman POVs- asks still very open ;)

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"It seems I owe you an apology." Rhys began, pacing at the end of the makeshift bed the healers had set up for you. Your stomach rolled with nerves. His tone was not genuine, and you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. The healers buzzing nearby suddenly found different things to do.

Azriel and Cassian stood at the edge of the canopy, the drizzle of rain making their armor shine. "Azriel informed me of your injury- I'm impressed with your bravery." He smiled, his dark eyes making him look like a snake.

You glanced to the shadowmaster, who nodded the slightest amount. "Did you receive my message from him?" You asked, and when he had a genuine wide grin - showing almost too many teeth - it gave you chills.

"I did in fact. I wish the same to you." He said with that deadly calm. Cassian tried to hide his laugh, Azriel remained stonefaced. "Let's take this to the war tent. Whenever you are...suitable." he glanced to your wing, still stained with crusted dry blood.

You felt your cheeks heat slightly, and nodded. He strode out from the healers canopy and into the rain without a look back. The generals followed him, Azriel glancing back to you only for a second.

Once you had mustered the strength to get out of the cot, you thanked your healers. They insisted on giving you healing potions before you departed. And tried to get you to promise to come back for a check in daily. Mobility tests, stretches and strength building. You gave them loose affirmations and took the potions without putting up too much of a fight, given that the wing still ached slightly. Two days of rest had done a lot for the healing process, but it would take at least a week before it was fully healed.

The short walk to the war tent was cold as the mist of rain poured down. Many of the soldiers were inside or drunkenly asleep in the mud. Sitting around and waiting was not an ideal situation with a thousand males ready to fight all around.

You pushed open the tent, shaking out your jacket on the pelt rug. Earning a scowl from the high lord, seated at the head of the table again. "This one tells me you were a sight to see in the skirmish." He said, gesturing to the shadow master.

You glanced to Azriel, his face was blank but his cheeks had gone a duskier shade of brown. "But maybe I took that the wrong way, and what he meant was that you were a disaster, considering someone managed to put a hole in to your wing." He laced his fingers together in front of him. You curled your lip at him, ready to tell him to get his ass out there and do it himself then.

Before you could, Azriel turned to the high lord, opening his mouth to protest but he was quickly silenced by Rhysand's dagger like eyes. The shadowmaster pressed his full lips together tightly. Looked to his feet, as if in shame. It made your head thrum with adrenaline filled rage. Rhysand - the most powerful high lord in history - coudlnt get off his ass to take care of some second class Attors himself? Perfect. Just your luck. Being hired out like the hundreds of your kind before you, only it was worse because you weren’t even getting any gold from it.

"We now have a bigger force than originally planned coming directly at us." He said softly, a dark wind organizing enemy pawns on the table to show where they spread out. how they had your forces stuck against a wall of mountains.

"Because you were brave enough to somehow miss the group of Attors flying away..." He glared those snake eyes at Azriel again, then Rhys let out a bitter laugh. He was upset, understandably so. You could admit that. But it wasn't your fault he decided not to believe you in the first place.

You glanced to Azriel. His face was grave as his high lord tore into both of you with a tone of a disappointed parent. Like your parent. The thought of your father made your jaw clench, your teeth grind together as you fought to not begin screaming at Rhysand.

"The two of you will see to it that this is taken care of." He took a breath, gesturing to the pawns on the table. "There is a ravine to the west of here-" His dark gifts had the pawns lifting in the air. A fist of fear clenched your stomach. You had forgotten just HOW powerful he was.

"If you cut off the bridges their advancement will be paralyzed. We then may be able to regroup and massacre our way through this group here-" He pointed to the north, a smaller force lay there. Without the flanking force able to be a threat behind you it would work. Your strategist mind flushed out the plan.

"I expect you both to fix this - as you both caused this issue. I want it done before dawn comes." The pawns he held in the air turned to dust on the table, making a neat pile before the dark lines that indicated the ravine. Hitting his point home, in a non subtle way you supposed. Arrogant cock of a high lord.

"It will work, Rhys." Cassian said softly. He glanced to Azriel. His eyes were pinned to your wing. Your stomach flipped, you glared at Rhys. Before you could call out his plans' faults - or how terribly he was treating you and your considerable 200 units in his army- you saw Cassian shaking his head slightly at you. He rested a hand on Rhys' shoulder. The gesture stood out. The cocky high lord had a sensitive side, perhaps. Your lip curled at the thought.

As if sensing your disgust with him, Rhysand's lip curled "Now get out." He said, voice low and gravely. Cassian gestured for you and Azriel to follow him out. Rhysand reminded you so much of your own father it made you want to spit. A territorial, abusive cock without enough dignity to spare your family name.

You took a deep breath of cold air, hoping to clear your mind. It did little to shake the tension in your shoulders, or the stiffness in your jaw. Making a mental checklist of the weapons you needed to bring, you noticed Azriel following you. Or seeming to.

The shadow singer stalked past your tent, going to the west where the bridges were. "What are you doing?" You asked, jogging to catch up with him. He was already fording through the tall shrubs and grasses by the time you caught up.

"Taking care of it. I can fix it myself." He growled. You tried to keep up with him, but the jostling was upsetting your injury.

You put a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, hey." He shrugged you off, scoffing to himself. "I should have gone alone in the first place. I dont understand why he had to send you." He muttered, stalking deeper into the forest. The rain didn't reach you here, under the darkening shadows and mist.

Rage erupted inside you at his words - and you called out the only thing you could think of that might stop him. If he wanted to fight he could damn well stop and have an actual fight with you. "I guess you are just like all the other Illyrians after all." Your blood rushed in your ears, seeming to dampen the sound of everything. The dull hiss of the rain hitting the trees above was barely audible.

He stood rigid, wings flaring over his shoulders, growing larger with the shadows writing around them. "Do you even have a clue what real Illyrians would do to you right now if you were talking to them like this? What a normal male would do?" He was close. Too close for comfort. Too close to not be fighting or fucking.

"Considering my father was a very real Illyrian, yes" He stuttered at that. You'd never seen him do such a thing. It would have been funny if that angry set of his features didnt come back. You were ready for more fighting, more yelling but his face went slack, and his eyes met yours finally. They were no longer the cold dark color like in the tent with Rhysand. They were a hazel that matches the warm colors of pine bark in summer. Your heart clenched at the sight of it.

"You're like the Peacemakers, then." He muttered, referencing the old tales of mighty warriors with mixed breeding. Unfortunately a lot of that breeding was not willing. It usually never was, and it had ruined two generations of Illyrian and Peregyn pairings. "Axios was always my favorite." He smiled at the memory. You bit your lip, remembering the true stories of each hero. Not the bastardized verisons peddled throughout the realm.

The offspring became ostracized and cast out of most communities. On Prythian and on the continent. The ones who survived long enough to become trainable though were given the name Peacemakers for a reason. Known for hired bloodletting, no questions asked.

"I hope your end is not met like theirs." He seemed to shudder at the thought. All the anger boiled out of you at his concern.

You felt the shame begin to creep up around you. You had sold your services to make ends meet at times. It always left you with a sickening feeling in your gut after. As if the Mother herself was disappointed. "You can help that not happen." You said softly, voice barely audible. If you weren't so deep into the forest you doubted even his shadows could have heard you. "I need.. I need to find my father." Your voice trembled, he approached you slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal.

"It might seem-" He began coaxing, holding a hand out to you. Just like he had the other night. A question, a temptation.

"I know your pain, shadowsinger." You took his hand, letting him lead you to a fallen tree. The soft moss growing on it was a welcome seat after walking for so long following him into the woods. "He would beat my mother and would pluck her feathers." You were grateful for your mother every second she put into resisting his influence for you. For keeping him at bay until you grew enough to be sent to the Peregryn camps for training. She never revealed your cross breeding, only that you had your wings and could use them well. Only because she had taught you.

Azriel was quiet for a long moment, his shadows moving slowly like waves around your ankles together. "I'm - sorry.. .about your mother. I didn't know." He whispered, pausing and cursing to himself. "I can help you find him. We can look, but we need to get through those enemy lines first. I need you to help me do that." He grasped your hand lightly, as if asking.

"Lets slice some attor, I guess." You sniffed, the cold making your nose run. At least, you blamed it on that.

The camp was mostly asleep by the time you got there. Under the cover of nightfall you were able to silently end most of the Fae that lurked in the camp. With everything going so smoothly, your heart lurched at the sight of Azriel falling backwards, a calling horn in his hand. His siphons flared, and it shattered. But left his siphons dull. He winced as he rolled out of the winging range of a fellow Illyrian with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Traitorous bastard." Azriel grappled with the Illyrian commander, but they were evenly matched. They knew all the same moves, sparring and sword wise. You launched yourself through the scattered bodies lining the clearing, dodging over puddles of blood and forgotten weapons. The commander had Azriel in a hold that had his wings flipped outward, and the male took the opportunity. He pressed his boot against Az's back and pulled them backward, bending them father than was natural. You roared, not bothering to waste the time to draw your weapon.

You barreled into him, Azriels hands still reaching backwards to claw at his hands. He toppled over a stack of bodies, yanking you down with him. You scrambled away from him, hands clambering for any weapon. By the time you turned back around to face him, Azriel had already put him on his knees before you. Bending the males wings back just as he had done to the shadow singer.

Your borrowed blade went through his throat, pinning him to the ground as he kneeled. He looked like a statue in the position.

You spat on the body. "Dont touch wings, asshole." You muttered. Azriel stared at you, as if in shock. You picked up a better looking sword from the ground nearby, wiping it on the cloth inside of your armor sleeve. "What?" You asked. Azriel seemed stunned silent. He seemed shocked in place. After you were sure there were no rogues readying to flee or informants spying, You took a breath, returning to him where he still stood beside the body of the commander.

You pointed back at the winged body speared to the ground behind him. Smiling, you titled the pose. "A prayer to the mother." His eyes went somehow even wider.

Then he broke out in laughter. You couldnt help but join him, the high of battle making you both delirious. You laughed at his laugh, the stupid face he made laughing back at you. Laughed at the half spoken words that were cut off by more breathless giggles.

Your sides ached by the time you both sat around the enemy fire, enjoying their spoils of war from a nearby town. The roasted duck smelled particularly good. Azriel heated a pot of tea over the coals, throwing in fresh pine needles from a tree nearby.

"You know-" He handed you your cup of tea. It was warm in your palm, but his hands were still somehow hotter than the boiling water. He blew on his cup, the steam not going much farther than what his shadows allowed. They seemed to almost play in it. "I am sorry about your mother. I understand why you regard some of us with such...distaste." He put the lid back on the pot and took it off the fire. He looked so natural doing...normal things. Not just posturing for his court and killing.

You nodded in thanks, not needing too many words with him. "She fled the week after I was formally invited to train in the Peregryn ranks. He found her, and killed her for leaving him. My court holds no rules against such things. He hasn't suffered for it." Your voice shook at the end. "Yet, that is. This.." You gestured to the battlefield, the bodies behind you. "This is just along the way. Killing him will be my destiny. My retribution for my mother." You sipped your tea, letting the burn of it sink in. You hoped it would warm your insides.

"I miss my mother as well." He said, taking a gingerly sip of his tea. He stretched his wings, you could tell by the hesitant way he folded them back in that they pained him. You made a mental note to give him one of your healing potions when you returned to camp.

You sat in silence with him until that fire burned out, and only dull coals were left.

"I'm glad you both seemed to have fun. Is the camp clear?" Cassian hissed, following you to the war tent. You sipped your mead, nodding. "Yes, oh strategic one. The bridges are cut too, courtesy of yours truly." You winked at him, making him stop in his tracks. Azriel patted him on the shoulder without a word, then followed you into the tent where Rhys waited. Wrathful or not, you knew he had no rights to tell you off this time.

Azriel's hazel eyes met your own as you entered the tent together.

#azriel x reader #azriel #reader insert #acotar fic #acotar #cassian mention

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hillbillied · 3 years

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I'm about to be a basic bitch and ask for andyeddie for the domestic ship meme please and thank you?! 💜

fuck yeah you can, i want all of these!! and if this means we’re basic then call me bottom-line PH neutral, my dude - this is an andyeddie brain rot zone, you know this and i thank you so much for it!!

DOMESTIC SHIP MEME - AndyEddie

who reaches out to new neighbors

Andy. mr personality over here got it all. smooth voice, soft accent, award-winning smile. some neighbours take a while to even realise the tall, scary-looking guy in the blue pickup lives in the same house.

who remembers to buy healthy food

Andy, sort of. he buys a range but he does love his fresh fruit and veg. Eddie, on the other hand, shops simultaneously like he’s only got $5 and is on death row. not necessarily unhealthy just… bread. pasta. bacon. ready meal shit. bags of snacks. buy in bulk, Andy, it’s cheaper.

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Eddie, more practical knowledge from the machines. Andy would rather just call someone but has accepted just watching. (Eddie wears a dirty vest when he’s fixing it. got it tucked into his jeans with that big ol’ belt he wears and his tattooed arms are out so Andy just sips his drinks like cool, cool, please hurry up or this is going to turn into a bad porno.)

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Andy waters the plants because he loves his plants. he has a flowerbed when they get a garden but even in an apartment he had flowerpots on the windowsills; he loves gardening. (pet wise, when they get a dog, they both feed it. they share cleaning, though Eddie is more maintenance and Andy more cleaning.)

who wakes up earlier

Eddie. six in the morning, without fail. marine clock, baby, that shit will never die. (not without heavy drinking or an all-nighter anyway.)

who makes the bed

Eddie. because Andy’s shit at it. military-corners Eddie’s fucking ass; Andy’s terrible at keeping things tidy. he’s clean but he’s not neat.

who burns breakfast

Andy. Eddie is a great cook, he does deliciously simple comfort foods and he makes dinner every night. full-on stereotypical house-husband in that regard, because Andy’s the breadwinner of the two in the boring hetero sense. Andy can cook, as in he can follow instructions and not set the kitchen on fire, but he’s the only one who’ll burn anything.

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Andy always kisses Eddie on the forehead. he’ll probably smooch him properly first – or worse, because he’s a a bastard, and will grab his ass before leaving – but he always marks that he’s actually leaving by kissing his forehead. he will go find Eddie specifically to give him his goodbye kiss.

Eddie shouts. hollers he’s going out in the shortest, blunted transfer of information. a grunted “Goin’ work” kind of deal. unless it’s spontaneous, he’ll also give Andy a kiss. it’s always on the lips and its chaste but heavy, pressing hard like he’s trying to remember the sensation. then he’ll get out of bed or grab his keys or go shower or whatever, and leave with a shout to mark him actually opening the door.

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Andy’s talkative. he’s “You have a good day?” or “You’ll never guess who turned up this afternoon!”. first one is default if nothing interesting’s happened. he wants to start a conversation, even if he talks and Eddie grunts. he doesn’t get up to greet; he knows Eddie will come find him and either sit down in his lap or come up behind him and wrap two strong arms around his waist. whatever suits, no rules

Eddie wanders out to meet Andy. he’ll come downstairs or walk into the entrance hallway. he’ll always have his arms folded, because he wants Andy to tell him what happened while he was out. (he doesn’t consider himself very interesting, yet he always wants to hear about the most basic shit Andy does.) normally he’ll add a “How was it?” or “Evenin’”. then he’ll wait because Andy usually answers him but not before he’s given him a greeting kiss.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

both. Andy on the chocolates, Eddie on the flowers.

Andy knows the flavours Eddie enjoys and likes popping them into his mouth while Eddie berates him about wasting money. Andy buys things he thinks Eddie likes, but he also buys things Eddie needs and will not buy himself. lighters, jeans, shoes, wallets, picture frames, glasses cases. things that are worn down to the bone and need replacing. but also things like books and records.

Eddie’s a traditionalist, even if his reasoning might be a little tainted by heterosexual bullshit and toxic masculinity. he thinks flowers are beautiful, he knows Andy loves them, even memorised what kind he loves most, but there’s a-whole-nother level of gears in his mind about buying them. eventually he does because he desperately wants the ‘romance he can never have’. it’s a semi-special occasion the first time, like he’s picking Andy up from the station. he brings his bouquet and he looks way more uncomfortable holding it than Andy ever could be receiving it. (Andy, of course, is overwhelmed with joy. he puts them in the front window so everybody can see and he prunes them daily and he changes the water so they last longer and he plays with Eddie’s hair while looking at them and talks about how much he loves them. Eddie starts buying him flowers a fair bit after that.)

their favorite kind of movie to watch

I’ve been doing these for canon-era (1950s) so for that it’s any western movie and specifically The King and I. (they’re a couple of gays who love a good musical.) they don’t enjoy all the war movies, particularly since most of them are about Europe and are just completely surreal.

modern AU: shitty horror movies – they’ve seen every Final Destination and can rate them in order of ‘watchability’ – and 1990s classics like Jurassic Park and Jumanji, they’re simple guys.)

who first suggests a pillow fort

Andy. he secretly wants to give Eddie the childhood he’s certain, by piecing together a lot of clipped information, the man never had. so, he’ll make sure he’s already halfway down with it in the living room when Eddie comes home because then they might as well finish it and sleep there, right?

who builds the pillow fort

Andy starts it, Eddie watches and considers whether he’s going to participate. then Andy smiles at him and asks if he can help tie up a blanket to make one of the walls and yeah, Eddie’s building it too.

who tries to distract the other during the movie

Andrew Fucking Haldane. stupid fucking horny man does not have the attention span for movies. he’s impossible. luckily, he’s polite and will just entertain himself, running his hands up Eddie’s sides and kissing his neck even if Eddie himself wants to know whether Dorothy makes it to the Emerald City or not.

who falls asleep first

Eddie. in the marines, you have a time when you sleep and it is limited. he lays down, shuts his eyes, switches off his problems, and sleeps. dead to the world, he’ll be up at six. Andy doesn’t have trouble falling asleep usually but he can be known to lie awake and think too hard. Eddie’s occasionally found him downstairs reading the newspaper or pacing or sipping tea at the early hours when he’s really stressed. (and hiding it as best he can.)

who is big spoon/little spoon

both. Eddie will happily wrap himself around Andy protectively and just listen to the man talk. he’ll squeeze him tight and breathe deeply so Andy can feel it and simply let him know he’s there, he’ll keep them safe. when Andy’s the big spoon, he’ll kiss the back of Eddie’s neck and whisper in his ear and thread their fingers together. he tells Eddie that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be and how warm he feels and wonder what they’ll get up to tomorrow. they also both like to come up behind each other for a standing-spoon, if you will.

coffee, junkfood, movie night pick ones here

#you and i in Basic Town thank you very much #is andyeddie basic or Gourmet #a-beautiful-struggle-of-life #andyeddie #the pacific

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karasunovolleygays · 4 years

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UshiIwa Fic Recs

(that nobody asked for)

Hello! It’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you all to UshiIwa hell! I’ve been malingering here for years, but with new developments in canon, it looks like I am no longer stuck on Gilligan’s Island (me plus the six other sad bastards i’m stranded with).

As a long time sufferer of this ship, I would like to introduce you to some of my favorite UshiIwa stories, including a few of my own bc tag smol. :’)

Rating: G/T

I Lose Control by voices_in_my_head Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, OMC (Coach) Summary: "He looks to the bench, where Iwaizumi’s eyes dance from player to player." Words: 1,538 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: this is an interesting study of how Ushijima would deal with an injury at a crucial moment when everyone is counting on him, plus a dose of priority.

Cordially Uninvited by Karasuno Volleygays (that’s me) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Possible Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Paparazzi Summary: Paparazzi haunting notable people has always been a problem, but Hajime and Wakatoshi opt to clear the air on their own terms. Words: 1,279 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I thought it would be interesting to see how Ushijima would deal with celebrity and subsequently strangers poking their noses in his personal business.

Three Doors Down by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, More Fluff, pretty bara men bonding over dogs Summary: When Ushijima inherited a property that had seen better days, he found himself spending a lot of time and effort in a new part of town restoring the house to its former glory. However, he didn't expect a litter of puppies in a yard a few houses over to revive his spirit, as well.

He certainly didn't anticipate their owner stirring something to life within him, either, but that was a development he didn't need much coaxing to get used to. Words: 13,145 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: I have no excuses for how fluffy this is.

you're good, too quickly admitted by pyrality Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting Summary: Iwaizumi sits back in the chair, "Oikawa thinks I could do better."

Ushijima swallows, eyes still on his laptop screen, "And what do you think?"

"I think I'd like to go out to lunch with you sometime."

He looks up at the other boy, feeling warm at the sight of Iwaizumi's crooked, barely there smile, a challenging twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," Ushijima manages before he recomposes himself, "I'd like that.” Words: 2,731 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: UshiIwa dating to spite Oikawa is too good to turn down.

Alight by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Time Skips, Rivals to Lovers Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime can't believe his soulmate is the guy who just wiped the floor with his team, but there is no denying the fact that he is irrevocably linked to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 4,504 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you’re interested in them getting to know each other through their failures and vulnerable moments, this is probably your jam.

Baby It's Cold Outside by RarePairGremlin Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Winter, Cuddling, light grinding, hints to smut but nothing is described, jaw kiss, Kissing, Fluff, Established Relationship Summary: The childish grin spread over his lips again as he faced them, his gaze roaming up them slowly as an idea formed. Ushijima, ever prepared, was fully dressed in thick socks a pair of blue sweats, which they had tucked into their socks like the crime against fashion they are, and a thick hoodie. He knew for a fact, since he’s stolen it enough times, that the hoodie was fuzzy and soft on the inside. Beside them lay a steaming cup of tea, the bag still steeping inside as they liked their tea strong, and the aforementioned throw lay comfortably across their lap. A perfect image of warm and cozy.

It would be a shame if someone was to disturb that now wouldn’t it? Words: 1,471 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly what it says on the tin, plus a bonus NB Ushijima!

the ghost in your room by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Unrequited Love, Unrequited IwaOi, oikawa is a bit of a dick Summary: Hajime finds a way to get over Oikawa Words: 1,173 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s an oddly pleasurable mixture of fluff and a punch in the throat.

Good Graces by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Arguments, Mending Fences Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session. Words: 2,059 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: Making your otp mad at each other is hard and it hurts, but the communication afterward is so important.

lit the very fuse by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Unrequited Love, Christmas Eve, Mostly Fluff, ushiwaka is a soft boy, you can never convince me otherwise Summary: Hajime isn't sure what he and Ushijima are to each other, but he knows he's still stuck on Oikawa. Words: 2,609 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you like FWB to Lovers, step right up and scream into the void with me.

Once An Enemy. by BGee93 Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Aged-Up Character(s), Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, volleyball mentioned not played, Getting to Know Each Other, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Coffee Shops, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Aobajousai, Shiratorizawa, boyfriend sweater, Confusion, Cliche, cliches, Awkward RomanceAwkward Meetings, meme team - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Romance, very slow burn, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Bonding, Forced Bonding Summary: 'It took several minutes to catch his breath again and to stop hissing through his teeth at the areas that throbbed, until they were just a dull ache. Once Iwaizumi felt he was able to move again he slid his hands up the strangers chest, ignoring the ripple and twitches his touch caused since the situation was already awkward enough without Iwaizumi appreciating the well toned muscle under his fingertips, as he pushed himself up till he was able to look at the persons face. There was more lighting on the bottom floor, as it was closer to the illuminating street lamps outside, so he was able to make out exactly who the man was within mere seconds despite the face still being quite shadowed. And the identity shocked him into stilling every joint, muscle and fiber of his being.

Oh hell no.' Words: 20,130 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was written for me as a gift in an exchange a while back. Have I stopped screaming about it? Not bloody likely.

Rating: M

Focus (On Me) by Verbrennung Tags: Underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ushijima is a 1st year, lots of staring, and looming, and crowding, Seijou!Ushijima, rated for ~makin' out~ Summary: Nobody had foreseen future Super Ace Ushijima Wakatoshi transferring from Shiratorizawa to Aoba Johsai for high school. Everyone's curious to know why, and as Iwaizumi discovers, some of his reasons are... unexpected.

An AU in which everything is mostly the same except Ushijima is a first year at Aoba Johsai and has a huge, looming crush on Iwaizumi. Words: 12,454 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This should probably be rated T instead, but whatever. If you ever wanted to know how much of an awkward bastard both of them are when they’re into someone, this is your jam.

Point Blank by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Future Fic, Brief (but pertinent) Mention of Homophobia, Slow Burn, Financial shenanigans, Scary Men with Guns, Minor Character Death Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime accepted a position at a company that was going places, and he knew he had a bright future ahead of him if he just kept his head down and worked hard — a future his family desperately needed him to achieve. He didn't count on an old rival working in the same building, nor Ushijima Wakatoshi's surprisingly cordial demeanor, yet he managed to make an unlikely friend and an even more unlikely roommate.

But when Iwaizumi climbed up the company ladder and into some of the more shadowy recesses of the corporate realm, he knew they would both get more than they bargained for, and the only person he knew he could trust was Ushijima. Words: 44,981 Chapters: 12/12 My notes: This was my first UshiIwa and I still think about it a lot. Imagining these guys in regular jobs is strange, but kind of endearing when you get a feel for how they live their lives after volleyball.

Rating: E

Flare by fish_wifey Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, From dislike to like, Tension, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial Summary: Ushijima's forwardness makes Iwaizumi edgy, but after they figure their shit out, it's Iwaizumi who brings Ushijima on edge. Words: 7,687 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: Enemies to lovers speed run ahoy!

Tangled Webs by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Black Widow AU, Assassin Iwaizumi, Crime boss Ushijima, alcohol use, Drugging, dubcon elements, Angst Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a seasoned killer, with wit sharp enough to cut and reflexes to match. He's never missed a kill. That is, of course, until he meets his new mark — Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Can Ushijima offer Iwaizumi what he truly desires, on top of a night of heated passion that can only end one way? Words: 4,120 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was some fucked up stuff, but sweet baby jesus it was a wild ride to write.

Unraveled by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bondage, Knife Play, Edging, Rough Sex, Flogging, Breathplay, Toys, Dubious Morality Summary: After his liberation from his past life, Iwaizumi adjusts to life with Ushijima. But something is missing, and Ushijima picks the strangest (and most erotic) way to give it to him. Words: 5,145 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s cute that I thought the first fic in this series was fucked up. This one was clearly more so, but noragerts.

Poly/Multiship ft. UshiIwa

4 AM by ApparentlyAda Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, this is so stupid, I'm Sorry, Oikawa and Ushijima talk about dogs, Iwaizumi is Oikawa and Ushiwaka Trash #1 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: "Ushiwaka."

"Yes?"

"What if one day you woke up as a chicken?"

"What if one day you shut the fuck up?", interrupts Hajime groggily.

(Or, simply put, the awful(ly amazing) conversations these three dorks have during sleepless nights) Words: 1,064 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I hope you like banter and Oikawa roastage haha

Bridge the Gap by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Divorce, Past Child Abuse, Lawyer! Oikawa, Police officer iwaizumi, Flower Shop Owner Ushijima, child kageyama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Meet the Family, chap 6 is the familys ongoing mission to keep kags hydrated, chap 7 is meet the parents edition, Internalized Homophobia, just a touch of it really Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru and Ushijijma Wakatoshi love each other more than anything, but sometimes that’s not enough, especially in a world that doesn’t love them back. Tiny cracks begin to widen, ever so slowly, until the gaps they leave seem insurmountable.

They find their answers with each other, and surprisingly enough, with the little boy loitering outside their window.

—-

Or, a story of disconnects and the love it takes to bridge them. Words: 121,443 Chapters: 18/18 My notes: It’s long with a lot of heavy themes, but if you look at the tags and think you can get through them, it’s so worth it.

a taste of heaven by beatboxbmo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Polyamory, Birthday baking, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s) Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: tooru comes home early on his birthday to see his two boyfriends asleep on the couch. they baked him a surprise. Words: 2,141 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly as warm and gooey as it sounds.

Three's A Crowd by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Miscommunication, Dating, First Kiss, a mess, These Boys are a MESS, Chatlogs, Light Angst, Polyamory, OT3 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi loves Oikawa.

Oikawa loves Iwaizumi.

Neither of them will say anything.

Then, suddenly, Ushijima is there.

And things get very complicated. Words: 32,385 Chapters: 9/10 My notes: Normally I don’t put WIPs on rec lists, but this one is close to completion and it’s so, so worth it. Boys are dumb and you should appreciate them.

adolescence and all its glory by pageleaf Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Wooing, Future Fic, College/University, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Fluff, Flirting, Established Iwaoi, eventual OT3, Threesome - M/M/M, Manga Spoilers Summary: Iwaizumi was supposed to meet new people. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, when you go to a different university from your best friend? Now that his life isn’t filled with Oikawa, he should have been making new friends, trying new things, whatever.

Instead, he shows up barely on time to his anatomy class, hears a small noise from beside him, and turns around to see Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 20,024 Chapters: 2/2 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Accidental rivals to lovers? Enjoy the sound of me screaming into the abyss, and the abyss screams back.

Close For Comfort by Leryline Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, NSFW, ushioi - Freeform, really sinful but great, Angst, it has a happy ending i promise, iwaoi - Freeform, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Threesome, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, but look it's integral to the plot ok, ROMANC E AHGHGNJD it's so gay, turning a oneshot into a multi-chap out of spite: a novel by me, also: don't cheat on people irl my dudes it's not cool. not cool.like legit please DO NOT Summary: Oikawa Tōru has always seen his future with Iwaizumi Hajime - solely, utterly, completely. After all, Iwaizumi is his pillar, the only person he needs in the world.

...right?

[or: Ushijima Wakatoshi comes in and fucks everything up, as usual, but Oikawa has never given in easily, and neither has Iwaizumi, for that matter.] Words:61041 Chapters: 15/15 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: If infidelity makes you uncomfortable, even if it has a happy ending all around, I would pass on this one. The smuts, however, are top shelf.

Privacy by plumtrees Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, House Party, Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Riding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Partner Swapping Summary: Iwaizumi reaches for the knob by his hip, easily twisting it open and getting them both inside. They stumble in with their lips still sealed over each other’s, silent giggles passing between mouths as Oikawa hurries to flatten his hand against the door to shut it and crowd Iwaizumi against the surface, other hand winding around his waist to pull him close, keep him there—

But then an alarmed noise rips from Iwaizumi’s throat, the hand steady on his shoulder suddenly pushing him away Iwaizumi’s looking behind him, expression a mix of shock and mild horror and Oikawa follows a split second later, just in time for a moan to resonate past the muffled music being carried over from downstairs.

“Oikawa.” Ushijima greets, only the slightest tremor to his voice as Shirabu sinks down on his cock. “Tendou didn’t mention you’d be here.” English Words: 9,736 Chapters: 1/1 Relationship: UshiShiraIwaOi My notes: Good lord this is spicy. This is ‘swinging’ in its truest form.

Show Me You Own Me by preciousghouls Rating: E Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome, Rimming, Barebacking, BDSM, Daddy Kink, on oikawa's part, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom!Iwaizumi, bottom!Oikawa, top!oikawa, top!ushijima, switch hitter oikawa, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, i have sinned, sleeping drug in five lines, Consensual, Begging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Collars, Cuffs, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Butt Plugs, domestic AU, Crossdressing Summary: It's Oikawa's idea, of course. But Iwaizumi finds himself loving the way Ushijima has Oikawa wrapped around his fingers, and before long they're both moaning at the hands of Ushijima.

aka the kinkiest shit I've ever written in my life. Words: 20,819 Chapters: 4/4 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Sometimes wanting to be dommed by ushiwaka is a communal mood, ya know?

Tumblr Fics

(mostly not rated/tagged; proceed with caution and at your own discretion)

Untitled by notsuchasecret

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by deathbelle

Comfortable by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Morning Kisses by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Meet My Nephew by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

#ushiiwa #iwaushi #ushiiwaoi #ushijima wakatoshi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#hq chapter 395 #hq manga spoilers #manga spoilers #fic recs #haikyuu fic recs

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rolllingthunderr · 4 years

Text

UkaTake Unexpected d&d fluff | 1.6K words | SFW

tw: drinking //

“Well, this is unexpected?” Takeda stops in the doorway, smile threatening to take over his face and he puts a hand over his mouth to hide it as Ukai turns and frowns from where he’s sitting behind the DM screen.

Ukai leans back to smile softly at him, like he always did whenever he caught sight of him, something Takeda would never get over, before catching up with what he said and frowns. “Shaddup. Are you playing or what?”

“Yeah, we’re missing a few people.” Makoto smiles from where he’s sitting at the end of their kitchen table, paper and dice spread out before him with Takinoue in much the same arrangement beside him. “We need a healer.”

“Is this what you were sending me links for this morning?” He turns to Ukai, grinning as he watches him pull out a few character sheets and dice sets.

“Yeah. We don’t get many opportunities to play. How long’s this campaign been running Tak?”

“Two years I think?”

“Well i’ll happily join if you give me a few minutes to change. I may be a little rusty though. I haven’t played in years.” Before going to change he leans forward to kiss the top of his partner's head, smiling when Ukai sits up straight to lean his head back so he can kiss him properly.

“Hurry up. I’ll get you a drink. Whadda ya want?”

“That weird beer you got in, give me a few minutes.” He’s quick to change and go back into the kitchen, sitting in the chair that’s closest to Ukai which had apparently already been set up with a character sheet and dice.

“Cleric huh?” He takes a look over it. The class and level had already been set up, as well as prepared spells, but everything else was left blank so he quickly fills it in, using the memories from when he last played a cleric to create his character now as quickly as he can.

“Here Ittetsu.” Ukai comes back, passing him the beer with a kiss to his temple as he sits down, putting the other snacks he bought in towards the middle of the table.

“Thanks Kei.” Absently, he winds their legs together under the table as he sorts himself out while Makoto and Takinoue fill him in on the basics of the campaign.

“So we started out as mercenaries, but we sort of joined a plot to kill the king and that’s our focus on the minute.” Makoto explains. “We’re currently trying to break in the castle so we like, find you in the stables or something.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles as Ukai reaches under the table to grab his legs and pull his feet into his lap. Pushing over a packet of his favourite sweets as he does so, acting nonchalant about it although the tips of his ears are red.

Shifting so he’s comfortable and ignoring the eye rolls from their friends at their domesticity, Takeda settles in properly. “Alright, let’s get this started then.”

It takes all of twenty minutes before the apparent serious mood turns goofy, and Takeda leans into it heavily.

He’d forgotten how much he loved this game, and the customers at work had been particularly mean that day. He wished his teacher's salary stretched so he didn’t have to work through the summer but he did what he had to. It just meant he was all too ready to let off some steam now anyway.

“What do you mean I can’t flirt with the DM to get advantage?” He asks, pouting in the way he knows will get Ukai to flush, which causes Makato and Takinoue to giggle into their drinks.

“That’s not how it works babe.” Ukai sighs, but he’s very obviously trying to hide his grin.

“You’re the dm, you say what goes!”

“Exactly!” Takinoue leans forward, gesturing with his bottle. “We need advantage on that persuasion check c’mon please.”

“Okay if you ask i’m definitely gonna say no.” He growls, pointing right back.

“Shut up Tak.” Makoto hisses and Takeda can’t help but laugh at them. One of the good things about originally getting to know Ukai had been the friends who had followed him into their friendship. He had always been a little too awkward and earnest to make his own friends past being acquaintances. But Ukai hadn’t minded one bit and apparently, neither did his friends. And they were his friends too now.

“Yeah Tak.” He smirks, before turning the smirk to Ukai who averts his eyes.

“That’s not gonna work either.”

“Fine fine. Let me roll.” He gives it up, but he doesn’t miss the way Ukai squeezes his ankle. Maybe an apology, but it’s more likely a ‘hah’ at not giving in to his puppy eyes.

“Okay that’s a ten?” He grimaces given how low it was even with him adding everything to it.

Another squeeze. “Surprisingly, you come up against a particularly stupid guard and he lets you in without question.”

“Then i’m gonna kill him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!” Makoto slams the table, feral gleam in his eye that’s mirrored by all of them.

“Then roll for initiative.”

They end the night late and tipsy. And with plans to continue the next week given they had ended the session by being caught and thrown into the castle dungeons.

“Bye!” Takeda calls from under Ukai’s arm as they stand in the doorway. Waving Makoto and Takinoue off as they head home.

Once they’re out of sight they close the door and Ukai lets go, sighing as he looks at the messy table they’d left in their wake.

“Think we can leave it ‘till tomorrow?” He asks and Takeda nods, following to wrap his arms around Ukai’s waist from behind, burying his face in his shoulder blades.

“I mean, i’ve got the day off. I can do it whenever I get up.”

“Fuck I love you.” Ukai grins, turning around. Takeda just smiles back until he squeaks when unexpectedly Ukai reaches down to grab his thighs, hoisting him up. All he can do is wrap his legs around his waist and arms around his neck, laughing.

“What are you doing? I’m heavy c’mon-”

“I carry boxes of stock heavier than you babe.” Takeda can feel himself blushing and he buries his face in the crook of Ukai’s neck, grinning against the skin there before nosing it. Just to hear him sigh happily as he carries him carefully through their apartment.

He was secretly a sap. Or well, it was more a badly kept secret over an actual secret.

“Love you.” He nuzzles in. A little loose from the booze and he wiggles in Ukai’s grip, to feel his hands shift to settle him properly, and then while he’s there cop a feel of his ass which gets him laughing.

“You tryin’ to feel me up?” He pulls back, laughing even harder when Ukai drops him onto the bed, leaning over him as he kneels between his legs before lying heavily down.

It’s a weight Takeda loves, and he wraps his legs a little more firmly around his partner to keep him there as Ukai smirks down at him. He rests his elbows either side of Takeda’s head, leaning heavily down as he kisses him. Slow and open mouthed, completely sloppy.

Gross bastard. He really loved him

“Always babe.” Ukai grins in between kisses, one hand absently going to run through the strands of Takeda’s hair he can reach. Wrist bent a little awkwardly.

He reaches up to take the headband out of Ukai’s hair, chuckling when his hair falls into disarray around his face, strands falling over his face. He throws the hairband aside, hands going to play with it and spike it up before letting it all again, scratching his nails along Ukai’s scalp in the way he knows he likes.

“Hmm, you need to dye your roots again Kei.” He tugs at one of the strands, laughing when Ukai just licks a stripe up his face in indignant response. He goes to say something else, tease ready but the comment leaves his brain when Ukai starts kissing down his neck. He starts at his jaw, closed mouth kisses progressing to licks and then sharp nips the further down his neck he goes. Sucking hickies into the skin below the neckline of his shirt where the only people who could see the marks were them.

“So, what did you think about the game?” Ukai asks when he stops, resting his chin on Takeda’s chest and Takeda can’t help but burst into laughter.

“You’re asking me that now?” He giggles, tucking Ukai’s hair behind his ears. “Nerd.”

“Says you, Mr Teacher.”

“I’m not the one who brings up dnd in the middle of a make out session.”

“Oh shut up we’re not kids, c’mon.” Ukai whines. “At least call it somethin’ sexier.”

“No can do. You like me for my awkward charm.”

“Love you.” Ukai corrects without even thinking about it, and Takeda instantly blushes so hard he has to cover his face.

“Love you too.” He mutters. Unable to move his hands.

Gently, Ukai moves his hands out the way to kiss him and take his glasses off. Reaching over to them on their bedside table, and Takeda whines at the loss of him. He’s too tired and tipsy to really have a filter so he reaches out without thinking. Flushing again and hiding his face when Ukai turns to face him again, smirking down at him before that breaks into a soft grin. Resettling himself in between Takeda’s legs. Shifting comfortably as he rests his arm back where they were.

“Fucking nerd.”

“Shut up.” He leans up to kiss him once again, and settles in for the night.

#takeda ittetsu #ukai keishin #ukatake #ukai x takeda #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #my writing #long post //#takeukai

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insomiaismygame · 4 years

Text

In His Embrace Part II

Gavin x Female Reader

Prompt: You were being stalked for months; your mental state slowly deteriorating. You felt yourself spiraling so you called the one person you could trust

TW: Mentions of Stalking, Harassment, Paranoia, Panic Attacks

A/N: If you haven’t read the first part click here!

Gentle rays of sunlight greeted your sleeping forms. Painting your surroundings with a brilliant hue of light yellow. Had it been any other morning, you would have dreaded the sight. Because it meant another morning after yet another sleepless night. A night filled with fits of terror and tears. However this morning you felt refreshed — the sun’s rays not the only thing caressing you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you felt a smile tug at your lips.

Gavin lay before you; eyes shut, lips parted as he breathed softly. His disheveled hair glistened like amber jewel in the light. Bringing your hand up you tenderly touched his cheek. You had to be sure this wasn’t some cruel dream or hallucination, that he was really there. He stayed there with you. The man you once feared due to misconceptions was now the man who brought you comfort. He groaned and turned his head slightly into your hand. The action making you quickly retract it. You didn’t want to wake, not yet.

You slipped out from under the covers with ease. Tip-toed towards the bedroom door, turned the knob and quietly shut the door behind you. Made your way towards the kitchen — stopping in your tracks midway. As you looked at the black trash bag on the counter you felt your stomach clench. You quickly shook off the feeling and proceeded forward, grabbing the bag and placing it on the edge of the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

Startled you turned on your heels towards the source. Gavin stood in the doorway of your bedroom yawning into his hand. His shirt was untucked, the top buttons were undone and his tie and belt were knowhere in sight. Even when you were quiet, he still managed catch you. The thought made you chuckle a bit.

“Well, I was going to make us some breakfast,” you responded, while giving him a warm smile.

He looked at you, eyes still hazy with sleep, and smiled back. Gavin walked towards you, each step completely silent — like he was walking on air. He circled his arms around you, bringing you flush against his strong chest. You reciprocated his touch, wrapping your arms around him as well. He sighed as he gently stroked the top of your head with hand; holding your waist with the other.

“How are you? Did you sleep well?” he asked. Worry emanated from his voice.

“Better, now that you’re here. It’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in two months,” you breathed. Listening to the steady beat of his heart. You pulled away to look up at him. His bangs framing his amber eyes as he looked down at you.

“I’ll help you with breakfast,” he stated. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead before separating from you.

Gavin made quick work of preparing everything— it wasn’t his first time there after all. He’d been to your place two times prior to this one. Each visit was after you had a bad day, and needed someone to confide in. Conversations would last till the evening, and you’d end up eating dinner together. With him always giving you a helping hand. One would think you two were together with how familiar he was with your place. You wish that was the case, but you didn’t want to bring him into your problems any further than you already had.

Pots and pans clanged, the fridge door opened and closed, and the stove was a lit. Toast popped out of the toaster as Gavin beat eggs with a fork in a small bowl. You placed a pan next to his, lit a flame below it, and filled the bottom of it with bacon. As that cooked, you quickly washed and dried some strawberries. Gavin watched your pan, and tossed a pad of butter in his. A soft hum escaped his lips, subtly swaying his hips while he grabbed a spatula and pair of tongs. You fed the toaster another pair of bread and returned to your pan. Grabbing the tongs Gavin handed you — he laughing as you fumbled with them. You flipped the bacon; opened the cabinet next to you, grabbing a couple of plates and bowls. A pair of large hands came from behind you, taking the ceramics from your grasp.

Eggs, toast, and strawberries were plated and taken to the table in an instant. Honestly, you wondered if you needed to do anything in the first place. You brought the pan of bacon to the table and distributed the bacon evenly. You placed it back onto the stove, Gavin grabbed two glasses, and you grabbed the OJ. Finally, you two sat down in front of each other. The eggs were light, fluffy, and buttery, while the bacon was crispy and smoky. You two savored each other’s work with satisfaction. After all, when given the time, you two loved cooking together. But you knew this bliss wouldn’t last long — he had questions that deserved answers. Chewing on the last bit of bacon in your mouth, you broke the tranquil silence.

“Gavin, I’m sorry that I brought you into this,” you said. Hanging your head in shame when he looked your way.

He gulped down some juice, and stared at you intently. Waiting for what’s next. He wanted you to open up — force was never an option with you.

“I know you have more questions, and after everything you’ve seen you deserve some answers,” I murmured. Peering up at him for a response.

Gavin creased his eyebrows with worry — deeply inhaled and exhaled. There was so much he wished he could do for. He wished he was there when this all started. He wished he was there during every single panic attack you had. He wished that he would be the one to put the bastard behind bar. The last one he would make come true.

“How many of these boxes do you have?” he asked.

“I have five, if you include the one from last night. I turned in a few to the police after I reported it. I’ve tried turning the rest of them in, but they told me they were suspending my case and to hold onto them for now,” your words faded to a whisper.

Gavin clenched his jaw — eyes glistening with rage. He couldn’t believe how his fellow officers had dismissed this. Dismissed you. Making you hold onto the source of your pain.

“Where are they?” Gavin asked, trying his best to stay calm.

“In the closet,” you answered. Pointing a finger at a door nestled between the living room and kitchen. Your eyes darkened at the sight of it.

He grabbed your other hand on the table; stroking the top of with his thumb. He knew what needed to do.

“I’m gonna take all of them. See what I can find,” he said determined.

“Thank you,” you whimpered, “thank you so much Gavin.” Your eyes watered with fresh tears. This time not from fear, but from hope.

“I’m gonna talk to a friend of mine. He works with security systems. I’ll see about getting you one,” he said. Gavin got up and grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen. With gloved hands he opened the closet next to it, stuffing the boxes in the bag. Securely tying it shut, a bit frustrated by the sight of them.

While he did that you cleared off the table. Placing the dishes in the sink — trying not to look at them. Gavin began fixing his shirt, finding his tie, belt, and jacket in your bedroom. He emerged fully dressed up, slipping his shoes on by your front door. You walked over to him — you almost pleaded for him to stay. Knowing full well he had work to do. As if reading your mind he looked towards you. Got up to his feet and brought you in for one final embrace.

He wanted to stay too. Wanted to hold you in his arms all day long. Protecting you like he did the night before. But he had a mission: catch whoever was doing this to you. That is the best way to protect you.

“I’m gonna catch them (Y/N). I’m gonna end this.”

Wow, you guys asked for it and I mean you really ask for it.

Look at all those notes! I’m seriously in shock right now! I’m so glad so many of you are enjoying my work ❤️ I made this one less intense and more fluffy. Thought I’d give you guys a break with some domestic life with Gavin❤️❤️❤️. Anyways if this gets over 50 notes I’ll write a third part!! Thanks for all the support!

#mr love #mr love game #mlqc gavin x reader #gavin #reader x gavin #mlqc gavin #mr love gavin #mr love fanfic #mr love mobile #mr love queen's choice #mlqc game #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fandom

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fairiesherefairiesthere · 4 years

Text

Nothing if not an opportunist (Fraxus)

Short summary: Freed gets kidnapped and Laxus picks his ass up, bc being together is what nice boyfriends do uwu

Intro:

A more than agreeable way to start one's morning would be with a nice cup of coffee and some baked goods of choice. Should the weather be pleasant, this delightful breakfast could've been taken in his garden. The flowerfilled wonder would look and smell heavenly in the soft light of the morning sun. But alas, hypotheticals are merely that and Freed is having a far less enjoyable morning so far.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

It goes without question that a group of people ambushing you on your way home is far from ideal. It only gets worse when they decide to tie you up with magic-blocking handcuffs right after that and throw you in the back of some dinky carriage. Rude.

With a sigh, Freed repositions himself, trying to find a posture that doesn't cut off his blood circulation. Thanks to an ungodly amount of yoga sessions with Bickslow, he quickly achieves his goal but it's still a far cry from his cozy couch. Inspecting the space, he tuts in disapproval. No cushions, no blankets, not even a beanbag. They should really level up their accommodations if they wanted to avoid the wrath of their temporary guests. A shame they didn't keep that in mind, but Freed sure as hell will.

While he's debating what exactly the awful stench invading his nostrils is, he catches the men in the front talking about a certain topic that catches his attention. His ransom note. Briefly, he mentally deducts some points from them for not putting silencing runes in place.

As the men talk in a not at all hushed tone of voice, it quickly becomes clear that there's no interest in him personally. It's Laxus they're after. A bit predictable and consequently, a bit boring. He mentally deducts a few more points. If they keep this up, they'll end up becoming the worst team that kidnapped him in the shortest amount of time.

Because he considers himself a graceful man, raised right as well as raised to be a bastard, he puts his face between the bars separating him and his kidnappers. "Good day gentlemen," he starts politely and in return, one of them spits in his face. Disappointing. He'll keep it in mind. Outwardly unperturbed, he continues. "I have been listening to your attempts at writing a threatening ransom note for the past half hour and quite frankly, I am not at all impressed. Please try to be at least intelligible, we wouldn't want them to get wrong impressions right?"

"Shut up, I'll torture and kill you", one of them growls and Freed nods enthusiastically. "That's it! Clear and to the point. Now please describe exactly how you'll do it and I'll rephrase it for you. I want my ransom note to be up to my standards. I expect both eloquence and elegance. Maybe even a hint of cheekiness if we're feeling up to it." As the man starts a litany of threats and curses, Freed carefully paraphrases everything, which only heats the man up more. As he gets his enjoyment out of harassing the man, he catches his accomplice writing down his more concrete, paraphrased version of the threats.

Although he missed out on a nice, peaceful morning he can't say that he isn't enjoying himself right now. Being a pest is an artform he's fully mastered.

Laxus hasn't seen Freed all day and to be honest, he hadn't really been worried. That is until he's sipping on a beer while Bickslow and Evergreen are making themselves a tad bit too comfortable on his couch. They had thrown him off and are currently engaged in a fight for the sole rights to the leather-worn throne. Seeing how vicious the fight is turning, he's glad that he had already been eliminated from the fight.

A letter is shoved underneath his door and although Laxus is lightning fast, he's unable to catch even a glimpse of the mailman. "A secret love letter!" Bickslow exclaims from his place on the floor and Evergreen rolls her eyes in response. "If that was a love letter, I'd throw it in the trash. Look at the shoddy thing!"

She's right, Laxus realises. The letter looks awful, crumpled and stained with what seems to be blood. Worry increasing, he opens it up and quickly scans the content of the text. His concern reaches a peak when he spots the long lock of green hair attached to the letter and as he holds it up, Evergreen and Bickslow hiss in unison. "Our baby got kidnapped again, didn't he?" Bickslow asks and Laxus nods.

"They've included an address and say I should come weaponless and with magic-blocking cuffs already on. They say they have to settle a score with me and if I don't come within the next 48 hours they'll kill him. With every hour the torture also increases."

Bickslow whistles between his teeth. "Guess ya gotta go huh?" Evergreen frowns. "Do you even have magic blocking cuffs?" she asks and he points at the ceiling. "In my bedroom", he says and while Bickslow cackles, Evergreen's frown only gets deeper. "Why are there magic-blocking handcuffs in your bedroom...?" When Laxus returns with the green, fluffy cuffs, Evergreens' disappointment is palpable. "They've got little lightning bolts on them!" he tries to defend himself and it sounds ridiculous to his own ears.

Trying to desperately change the subject, he asks if they want to come along on the rescue mission. The answer's a firm no. "The aftermath of these situations are never pretty", Evergreen whispers, eyes clouded with a distant emotion. "I don't want to see the violence, the effects of hopelessness", Bickslow adds, swallowing dryly. Laxus understands their sentiment better than anyone. "Then I'll be bringing him back", he promises, although he knows he doesn't have to. They know he does it every time without fail.

Laxus arrives at the castle at twilight, light and dark intertwining as he enters the too quiet place. Normally castles of this size should be alive, the hum of the hustling and bustling of servants forming the core of it's sound. Although he can hear people scurrying about far away, there's still the lingering feeling that it is way too quiet. It's as though the castle is awaiting his arrival with baited breath.

Upon entering the hall, he's greeted by a quivering maid. Unable to look him in the eyes, she asks: "Master Dreyar, I presume?" while directing her gaze at the floor. "Take me where I need to be." He doesn't mean to be so brusque, but he has no time to spare for useless pleasantries.

She quickly guides him to the main room and even before he enters it, he knows that the room will be a show of absolute opulence, meant to intimidate him from the get go. As soon as he enters, his suspicions are confirmed.

The ceiling is as high as the ceiling of most gothic churches and the candles lighting up the room are a mere few. Nevertheless, every grim decoration in the rooms is properly lit. The decorative skulls, the chains, everything is immersed in the same eerie glow. In this faint light, Laxus can make out the servants stationed at the sides of the carpet leading to the throne. Behind them, there are scratches on the walls, destroyed tables and what seems to be... bits and bops of human beings. It's like an Ikea set of human remains.

A cough draws his attention to the throne. The glow of the lights reflects of the crown of the man sitting on it. The light also bounces off the bejeweled cape draped across his shoulders and Laxus can't help but stare. Perched on the throne like a lazy cat who has very much made a place formerly belonging to someone else is his own, is Freed Justine. "Hello Laxus, I was wondering when you'd show up. Did you like my letter?"

As Freed slinks of the throne and walks towards him, with every piece of jewelry that comes to light as he draws closer, jingling softly. The sound matches Freed's natural sound well and the lavish jewelry take his already handsome looks to another level. That and the horns accentuating the crown, the little tinge of red left on his too sharp teeth as well as the glow in his usually hidden eye.

He's not surprised at this situation in the slightest, as this is how Freed's kidnappings usually go. The man is simply too charming, too cunning and too powerful to be contained by a few simple bandits. The only reason Laxus comes to pick him up, is because he knows Freed enjoys being walked home. It's the simple things, like this form of domesticity, that makes their relationship so enjoyable.

"I asked the servants to prepare us a meal before we set off? Would you join me Mister Dreyar?" he asks teasingly. "It is our date night after all." With a smile he agrees. "It is, this is very considerate of you." Freed gives him a chuckle and a wink in return. "I'm nothing if not an opportunist." They toast to that later on.

Once back at the guild, Makarov flags them down, concern evident on his face. "You've got to take better care of him", he hisses at Laxus and before Laxus can tell him that he really doesn't have to, Freed smoothly cuts in. "Please don't worry about it master, he already does such a splendid job of saving me every time. A man can't ask for more than a splendid hero, right?"

Although it's a lie totally dicrediting Freed's own skill, Laxus doesn't correct him, even though he wants to. He knows Freed by now, knows that every lie, every piece of omitted information is probably part of a scheme of a sly mind that never stops working. He knows that the image of a mage depending on Laxus makes him a walking target and Laxus knows that the man enjoys nothing more than a good fight. Maybe there's more to it than Freed's hobby of beating up people, maybe there isn't. Either way, Laxus loves watching Freed's plans unfold, even if it means that he has to hold his tongue sometimes.

#fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #My capable mans doesnt get enough credot #credit #jfc i cant spell #bickslow #evergreen fairy tail #TheFairyWrites #fanfic

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sinningtamer · 5 years

Text

eating for two [fic]

i did it. i finally lived my dreams and wrote the preg/stuffing fic that no one but me asked for

tumblr is dumb about links lately so its going under the cut

cw: stuffing/belly kink, (m)preg (like, with a nonhuman/non’male’ character, but whatever), vaguely implied sexual content only at the very end, 1.4k+ words, fandom character shipping, but, like, very AU specific interpretation.

a/n: im sorry but also not really cause i deserve this, ALSO tumblr is the worst and if this shows up in main character tags i am so so so sorry, please just ignore me.

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“My god.” Strife breaths heavily as he slowly stands up from the table, gaze making its way downward to his stomach.

Over the last handful of months, he’d gotten used to once again constantly having a belly that extended past his waist and made the view downward significantly cover up his toes, something nothing short from annoying. Granted, it was a mutual decision, and Strife had agreed to this, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to complain.

This, though? This was ridiculous.

“You made me look like we’re having twins, asshole.” Rubbing soft circles on the top of his distended stomach, Strife glares across the kitchen to where Parvis’ is washing dishes. Way, way too many dishes for only two people, no thanks to the blood mage himself.

A nice, date night dinner between them while their daughter was being watched seemed like a good idea in theory, harmlessly suggested by Parvis earlier in the evening. Strife, however, had somehow managed to forget just how much of a scheming bastard Parvis could be. First it was just him suggesting another few bites of the food on his plate, then handing him seconds, and thirds, far, far more than Parvis himself had, and that’s how Strife found himself rightfully stuffed, finding it hard to say no to how much effort Parvis had put forth in cooking such a nice meal.

It’s not like he needed to gain weight, for goodness sake, he looked big enough already at six months. Not that he was willing to admit it, but going from less of a CEO to more of a domestic housewife over the last four years had caused him to put on a handful of pounds, and he could’ve sworn he wasn’t this big during his first pregnancy.

That on top of the meal he’d just had, and Strife felt huge.

“Please,” Parvis’ drawl drags Strife out of his own thoughts, looking up from the sink. “You did this to yourself.”

“No thanks to you.”

Ringing off his hands, Parvis turns around and gives Strife a look over, who’s still throwing him a sour expression. Parvis, however…

The way his eyes rake over Strife, though, is something different entirely, as he takes in every little detail. Flushed green face from the effort of eating too much, plus his own embarrassment, the way his palm softly rests on the top of his swollen tummy, sweater stretched enough for a sliver of bare skin to poke out. Parvis takes all of it in and absentmindedly licks his lips, facial expression turning sly, almost hungry.

Well, at least someone still was.

“Well!” Parvis says quickly, clapping his hands together. “Why don’t you go lie down on the couch, and I’ll give you some well deserved belly rubs in a moment?”

He gets a squint in return. A long, rightfully, suspicious squint, Strife’s glowing eyes narrowed behind the pair of glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. And then finally, a nod.

With a huff, Strife turned and waddled out of the kitchen.

When he finally settles on the couch, it’s somewhat of a feat, shifting subtly enough to not cramp his stomach, trying not to bend forward at all, but he manages, propping a pillow behind his head and falling back.

As he stretches out, he feels the baby move, and smiles fondly. “I know,” Murmuring, he gets a bit more comfortable and strokes a hand over his bump. “Your father’s the worst.”

“Talking behind my back?”

Parvis pokes his head out from the kitchen and makes his way over to the couch, settling between Strife’s legs. It’s only when Strife realizes what he has in his hands that makes him start.

“No— No, absolutely not.”

As if sensing this was coming, Parvis gives him the strongest puppy dog eyes he can, holding up the slice of chocolate cake he has on the plate held between his hands. “It’s just one piece!”

“One piece too many! Parvis, no.” At that, his stomach makes a groaning noise, and he scowls. “Why do you insist on feeding me so much?”

Barely listening, Parvis picks up the fork resting on the plate and forks off a bite to hold up. “Because I like you full and healthy!”

The look he gets is Strife shooting daggers, but he’s determined.

“Please, Strifey?” He pleads, fork hovering just in front of Strife’s mouth. “For the baby?”

“You have got to stop saying that.” Is the growl he gets in return, as Strife pouts. The only reason he’s grumpy about it is because it actually works. He was tempted to ban that damned phrase from Parvis’ vocabulary already, because every single time he wanted Strife to do something, he’d remind him of the ‘precious cargo’ he was carrying for them, and Strife’s resolve would easily crack.

The only saving grace was that it did, thankfully, work the other way around, and was an easy way to get Parvis to do his bidding, in the form of carrying him upstairs and grabbing stuff from high shelves. They really were both useless husbands.

“Fine.” He eventually says, when Parvis’ grip on the fork doesn’t waiver. “But you owe me and the kid one.”

“Deal!” Parvis chirps, and before he gets a chance to react, he’s shoving the bit of cake up to Strife’s lips, who has no choice but to open his mouth and swallow.

The first bite goes down easily, despite how strained his stomach already was. Adding something on top of that didn’t do much. He barely has a second to breath, though, as Parvis is forking off a larger bite, and poking it against his mouth again, and swallowing that makes everything feel so much heavier. And it was no small slice…

Refusing to relent at the way Strife has to draw in a breath, Parvis simply keeps cutting off pieces of the cake and pressing them against his mouth, and Strife can’t do anything but accept, hand at his side lifting up to feel his still filling belly, completely firm now.

The worst part was just how good it tasted, with Strife’s latest craving being anything particularly sweet. The layer of thick and sugary frosting still tasted heavenly, no matter how much it made his stomach ache.

Before he’s able to think about it, he blinks to see the last bite of cake on the end of the fork, Parvis smirking at him. Mentally apologizing to his belly, he leans forward and lets Parvis feed him the rest of the slice.

Immediately after he swallows it, Strife slumps back against the pillow, sighing heavily. He’s never been more full in his life, and when he shifts, his sweater rides up more, exposing the rest of his stomach, freckles on its side glowing brightly.

Meanwhile, Parvis leans over and sets the now empty plate on the coffee table, sparkle in his eyes still. Almost daintily, he rubbed his thumb on the side of Strife’s

lips, swiping off a bit of frosting and tasting it, humming around his finger.

“Happy?” Strife grumbles, beginning to feel sleepy from the weighed down feeling he was getting.

“Very.” Parvis replies adoringly, bringing both hands to rest on his stretched belly, softly massaging the side, carefully enough to not hurt. He dips his head forward and plants a kiss on the top of it, and Strife can’t help but give a half upturned smile, resting his own hand over Parvis’.

“Anything else I can do for you, or is this enough?” He says after catching his breath, Parvis still rubbing circles into his tummy, no doubt enjoying just how big he’d managed to make him. Pursing his lips, he sits back up to think.

“Now that I think about it…” His expression slips back to something scheming, and he sets his palms on Strife’s knees, eyes traveling from his stomach to between his legs. “I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

Strife’s about ready to fall asleep, but the way Parvis says it makes his brain perk up a bit, blush on his cheeks brightening. He tilts his head. “You’re doing all the work, though.”

Smile widening, Parvis nods eagerly.

“And you’re carrying me upstairs.”

“Alright!” Before Strife can make anymore demands, Parvis is hopping off the couch and wiggling one arm underneath his knees and the other behind his back, easily lifting Strife into his arms bridal style.

At least everyone was getting their fair share to eat today.

#stuffing kink #belly kink #mpreg #alien boy and mage boy #mama strifey kinz

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ryik-the-writer · 5 years

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Rumbelle fic: A Sitting Deal

A Sitting Deal 6/6

A03 Link

Rating: T+

Summary: With the threat of a rent increase being held over her head, Lacey E. French makes a deal with Mr. Gold to babysit his three-year-old son. Soon however the town troublemaker finds herself getting close to her landlord and son…which just can’t be good!

Note: for my Rumbelle Secret Santa recipient…@of-princes-and-savages, based off the prompt: Hey, who’s kid is this

Lacey began ripping off her clothes as soon as she entered her apartment, releasing a new curse as each item hit the floor.

“Mother everlasting son of a bitch!” she howled as she turned the shower to the hottest level, welcoming the burn.

She scrubbed her skin hard, taking deep breaths to ease away her wracking sobs.

What was she going to do? She was falling hard for the Golds and it was the most unnatural feeling in the world. Lacey wasn’t supposed to fall prey to domesticity. She wasn’t supposed to rearrange her life for other people!

Yet the very idea of doing just that was possessing her. How bad would it be really? To be a friend and companion to a trifling landlord and his heart-stealing little boy?

She was being ridiculous, she thought. Gold says a few nice words and his kid learns her name and she melts? What the hell!

“This is so damn stupid!” Lacey groaned as she collapsed into her bed in nothing but a towel.

There had to be a way for her to wrap her head around all of this, to come up with a plan. She could just quit, but the idea of not seeing that curly-haired heartthrob every day was too painful to think of at the moment.

And Lacey E. French was no quitter, at least not anymore…

The shadow of the past sprang forth an idea for the confused barfly. It was a long-shot, and would probably end in a thorough smackdown, but it was the only shot she had.

With a truckload of hesitation, she called the one person who could help her sort through her most recent pile of wreckage.

“Hello?”

Lacey gulped at the familiar accent. “Belle?”

There was a brief pause and Lacey expected a tone dial to follow, but instead she heard a slight strangled noise.

“Oh my gosh Lacey!” Belle cried. “I…how are you?”

Lacey released a wet laugh, grateful for her twin’s invitation.

“Um, that’s complicated Belle. How about we start with you?”

“Okay,” Belle replied, sounding positively giddy.

Lacey listened somberly as Belle relayed her job as a grad assistant, her rough edged but soft-hearted fiancé, and of course wedding plans.

“I’m sending out wedding invintations later this week. Nick wanted me to have this grand wedding, but I know he hates big to-dos. I said I would be just fine going to the courthouse and then our favorite bar afterwards, but he said his colleagues would string him up over the physics department if he denied them this.”

Lacey chuckled. “I like this guy,”

“You’ll love him. He reminds me of you in a way.”

Lacey frowned. She certainly hoped the man holding her sister’s heart wasn’t a thing like her.

“Now,” Belle continued. “Let’s here about you. How’s old Storybrooke?”

Lacey scoffed. “Same as ever, though Granny added spaghetti to her menu for some reason.”

“Wow, it’s really come up,” Belle joked. “How about you? Will you be bringing a date to my wedding?”

Lacey blushed at the very idea of being serious enough with Gold that he would come to such an affair with her. Although she’d imagined him and Bae both would look just charming in a tux—

“Son of a bitch!”

“Lace?” Belle gasped.

Lacey groaned. “Belle, I’m in real shit here.”

She quickly relayed to her sister the weeks happenings, her deal with Gold, her time with Bae, and her strange uncertain feelings she didn’t know what to do with.

“Whoa.” Belle sighed on the line. “That’s…different.”

“It’s fucking stupid is what it is!” Lacey returned. “I don’t get it! I have one conversation with the guy and share some animal crackers with his kid and suddenly I’m a pig-tailed lamebrain!”

“Did you really put your hair in pigtails?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lacey barked. “Tell me what to do! What the fuck’s wrong with me?”

“Sounds like to me Lacey that you’re in love,” Belle teased. “Or more like falling in it.”

Lacey covered her mouth to keep from screaming, the words sounding more terrifying now that they were out in the open.

“I can’t do that Belle,” Lacey sobbed. “I can’t be…that!”

“What, happy?”

“In love, or whatever this shit is!” Lacey yelled. “I’m not right for them! I’ll drag them down with me! I’ll hurt Gold and Bae someway…I don’t want to do that!”

“Lacey calm down,” Belle soothed. “Please.”

Lacey took a moment to breathe, the light tint of static over the phone soothing her back into place.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Belle coached. “It’s okay to not be ready for this. But it’s not like you have to marry him.”

“Oh god!”

“Hush, let me finish. You don’t have to jump into something you’re not ready for. If Gold’s really as decent as you say he is, he’ll understand! Just talk to him. Let him know how you feel and that you want to take this slow.”

“But Belle…” Lacey cried, her heart pounding. “He deserves so much better than me. I pay my rent in change and my first job since high school has been a half-ass babysitter!”

“Well…maybe we can open you up a checking account, and babysitting is a damn good gig,” Belle encouraged. “And as for you not being good enough for them…”

Lacey held her breath at the long pause Belle took, wondering if she was about to hang up on her and leave her to stew in her own disaster.

“I know what you did for me,” Belle said at last. “I know you didn’t go to college so that I could.”

Lacey’s blood went cold. “The fuck how?” she hissed. She thought she had covered her tracks!

“You’re careless Lace,” Belle pointed out non-accusingly. “You set your acceptance letter on fire, but you didn’t stick around to see if it burned. I found a piece of it left, and I put two and two together.”

Lacey groaned. Classic Lacey move.

“And while we’re on the subject,” Belle voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

Lacey blinked. “For what? You did great, and you’re doing exactly what you wanted to.”

“But you didn’t,” Belle stressed. “I should have pushed you to go to school, to do what you wanted. We could have split the money and taken out loans to make up the difference. But I was so selfish, and I thought you just weren’t ready but when you never mentioned Mum’s trust, I figured it out.”

“You were never selfish Belle,” Lacey promised. “You’re kind of right, I wasn’t ready, not really. And you were always destined to do something with your life, to leave this place. You didn’t need to wait around for me to do the same.”

“I would have gladly waited,” Belle said. “But you can’t keep stalling. You deserve to be happy.”

Lacey closed her eyes, feeling a comforting numbness seep into her bones. For so long she had been holding herself back, and now she needed to take a leap.

“I’m scared,” Lacey laughed.

“That’s okay,” Belle consoled. “No matter what happens it will happen because you were in control. And if by some one in a million chance it doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

Lacey nodded, wishing her sister were in front of her so that she could hold her.

“Thanks Belle,” Lacey said, the words coming deep from her heart.

“You got it sis,” Belle returned. “Now just what are we going to do?”

Lacey licked her lip, thinking over her options. She’d never been good a planning, and it wasn’t until now that hesitation appeared in her dictionary.

Maybe things would work out if she winged it after all?

“I’ve gotta make a blue print,” Lacey said as she jumped up to find clothes.

“What?”

“Call you tomorrow bye!”

“Lacey wa—”

Lacey hung up on her beloved sister and prepared to meet her fate.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He shouldn’t have tried to kiss her? What the hell had he been thinking.

Gold had bathed and clothed Bae and taken him upstairs for a story before bed. The boy had longed fallen asleep in his lap, but Gold had yet to leave the rocking chair.

He’d been fearing the worst when he first hired Lacey. He kept closing the shop early just to check in on her and catch her in the act, but he had been woefully shocked to find that—while she had created chaos—it was less damaging than he had expected.

She actually bonded with Bae and did so in her own unique way. It made him proud of her in that moment, proud in his own decision to entrust his son to her.

But his admiration of Lacey French had begun long before they made their deal. Long before he’d even taken in Bae at that.

She hated him as a landlord like any other of his tenants, but she didn’t gripe or moan. She pushed through, even if he had a jar of pennies by the time he got her rent. She’d wink at him when they passed each other in the streets but never expanded on the low-key flirting. She held her self with the upmost confidence and could look men twice her size in the eye without hesitation.

Yet all this time she had been carrying a deep self-loathing. Why hadn’t he seen that she was so sad?

Because he was a cold-hearted bastard. It was a simple but true answer. He hadn’t really cared for anyone, and Milah’s abrupt departure had him wondering why he should try.

But Lacey had changed that somehow, pulled the withered remains out into the light to rejuvenate.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he felt for her, but if his want to kiss her early today was any indication, it was bordering on passion that her rushing out meant she did not want to receive.

Gold kissed Bae’s curls and carefully laid him in his bed. What kind of young woman wanted an old man with a kid? She was too young, too free to be tied down to such a commitment.

He decided as he took off his tie that he’d talk to her about it tomorrow. She’d probably feel uncomfortable and quit, but he’d swallow his hurt and pay her well before she left. He’d even offer to cash in a favor with a colleague from the nearest university to get her in so she could follow her dream.

He’d hate to see her go and lose the small spark of friendship they’d manage to create, but she deserved to take back the happiness she put on hold.

Maybe one day when she was done with her degree she’d teach him to play pool, or she’d come by his shop and just talk.

Or maybe he’d get use to being alone forever.

Just as he was undoing his belt, the doorbell wailed throughout the house. Gold held his breath, counting down and sighing deeply when his son did not begin hollering.

He grabbed his cane and swore to ram it down the throat of whoever was there. He had it poised to kill when he opened the door and found Lacey standing on his front step.

“Lacey,” he breathed, his heart picking up a beat. “It’s late what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” she stated simply, pushing past him.

Gold swallowed and closed the door behind him. “What’s going on Lacey—”

“I like you,” she blurted out, only a second of hesitation following her proclamation. “And hell, I like your kid. I don’t know why and I don’t know what to do about it, but I don’t want to act like I don’t feel it.”

Gold watched her fidget and tried to figure out if he was dreaming or not.

“And…years from now when I’m playing dinosaurs with Bae and I tell him about his mom, I want him to know that she was a total idiot because the second he was in my arms it felt impossible to ever let him go.”

Gold blinked, her words filling his chest with a suffocating tightness.

“Look,” she said as she hastily wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, or what I really feel right now. Maybe I’m just being crazy or some shit but I…just wanted you to know how I felt so that we can get any bullshit that might happen over with.”

Gold stared at her for the longest time, his mouth slightly gaped.

“What!” Lacey cried. “So help me I will punch you in the ribs if you don’t—”

She watched him step closer—slow and careful as to not startle her. When there was only a gap between them, Lacey knew what he was about to do. He was hesitating, just like her. He was uncertain too, not wanting to push something that wasn’t ready to go forward. But he was awaiting her permission as well, and Lacey gave it to her by edging up on her toes and bringing her lips to him.

His were soft, the small bristled of unshaved hair rubbing comfortingly against her cheek. Her hand reached up to his shoulder, slowing rubbing it back and forth. The hand he placed around her waist was lighter, almost afraid.

When they pulled back Lacey was struck with just how brown his eyes were, and the faint scar on his lip that she hadn’t noticed before.

His eyes searched over her like he couldn’t believe what was happening. He had Lacey French in his arms and…she liked him. She actually like him!

“We need to be slow,” he husked.

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed with an excited gulp. “Figure this thing out,”

Gold nodded and for while they stayed comfortably in close proximity, catching whiffs of each other.

But Lacey French wasn’t one to stay still for long.

“Wanna have sex?”

Gold actively flinched, and Lacey waited rather patiently for his response.

“I…” he hesitated, trying to wrap his mind around the audacity that was Lacey French.

Finally, he just stopped thinking and took Lacey’s hand.

“Yes, I believe I do,”

Lacey smirked. “Great,” she began pulling him up the stairs. “Bedroom?”

“First door on your right.”

Lacey bit back an ecstatic smirk.

“Got it, gocha.”

Yes!

#rumbelle christmas in july #rumbelle christmas in july 2019 #rcij #rcij 2019 #of-princes-and-savages #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #golden lace #baelfire #lacey #lacey french #mr. gold #ryik's fics

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mayquita · 5 years

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Call Me (21/?) - Chocolate, Pancakes, and... Something Else

It’s been 84 years... It seemed that this moment was never going to come and I still can't believe it, but yes, it's happening, a new chapter is here! I'm truly sorry I wasn't able to update before, but as I've already said on some other occasion, there have been a lot of circumstances that have prevented me from writing for one reason or another. My life is slowly returning to normal, and with that, it seems that my inspiration has also returned and I hope it stays with me for a long, long time.

I’d like to express my gratitude to @csmarchmadness , since this event has been the push that I needed to update this story so special for me.

Also, thanks to @captainsjedi for taking a look and to @chrissascorner for being my savior and helping me fix mistakes. Special mention to @onceuponaprincessworld for her feedback and for always being there. And, as always, thanks to @saraswans , for her advice, her constant support, her ideas and because without her this story wouldn't be the same.

Thank you so, so much everyone, for your eternal patience, for continuing to have faith in me and this story. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best to try to update soon.

A couple of notes about this chapter before starting reading. It begins the day after their first real date. There will be fluff, fluff and more fluff, and also sexy times... but... as I have already commented on other occasions, I'm not a smut writer, and, although this is probably the most smutty thing I've ever written, eh, no, nothing explicit will appear. At least I tried, right?

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma answers the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

FF.net Ao3

Here we go...

Previously on Call Me... After Killian returns to Boston and after finishing the deal they had established to get to know each other better, they decide to have their first real date. Now is the time to find out what will happen after that first date...

Chapter 21 - Chocolate, Pancakes, and... Something Else

Monday, July 3, 2017

Ruby: Emma! Where are you? I can't believe you're still asleep.

Ruby: Come on, I'm dying here, I need to know!

Ruby: Or maybe you're busy right now...

Ruby: Tell me you're not alone in your bed.

Ruby: Any more qualities to add to Killian's list? Good kisser maybe?

Ruby: Emma, wake up!

Elsa: Omg! I just saw the picture! It's perfect! I'm very happy for you two. You deserve it. I'll call you later to get all the details of your date.

Emma dropped the phone on the mattress and stretched on the bed, a smile of satisfaction pulling at her lips, as the memory of her date with Killian popped up into her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment as she let herself be enveloped by the lingering sensations, her lips still tingling after tasting the first kisses shared with Killian, her heart still pounding because of her blossoming feelings...

The sound of someone knocking on the door brought her back to reality. Confused, Emma grabbed her phone again to check the time. Too early.

"Emma." Knock knock.

"Emma." Knock knock .

"Emma." Knock knock.

Seriously? Was the nerd imitating Sheldon Cooper? Again?

Despite his unexpected visit — or perhaps precisely because of that— a warm sensation began to hum beneath her skin in anticipation of seeing him again sooner than she had thought. After running her hands through her hair in a failed attempt to untangle it, she rushed to the door, not even bothering to put on her bra. He was her boyfriend now, wasn't he?

She didn't even have time to ask him about the reason for his visit. The moment she opened the door, she was invaded by his warmth, his arms wrapped around her body and his lips catching hers in a kiss maybe too passionate for those hours of the morning.

It only took her a few seconds to react, returning the kiss with enthusiasm while allowing herself to be carried away by the sensations. Even though they had kissed for the first time just a few hours ago, there was already an aura of mutual understanding and confidence in the way her lips molded to his or in the synchronism of their tongues dancing together, as if they had been practicing for much longer.

That didn't stop her body from betraying her in a certain way, because when Killian separated from her, she found it difficult to regain her composure, feeling a slight dizziness taking over her. Luckily, Killian didn't loosen his grip on her waist as she tried to catch her breath, blinking a couple of times to drag away the remnants of sleep and make sure that what she had just experienced had been real and not a figment of her imagination.

"Not that I'm complaining, because obviously I'm not, but what was this about?” Her intention had been to use a carefree tone, but she failed miserably, her words coming out in a shaky breath.

Killian's lips curled into a cocky smirk as he pointed his chin toward his raised hand. The bastard knew the effect he had on her. Even so, she forced herself to look away from his completely kissable lips and directed her eyes towards where he was pointing. Only then did she realize that he was holding a paper bag from which a delicious smell was coming off.

"I thought it was a good idea to bring breakfast on my way to work."

Emma ignored her stomach rumblings as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a suspicious look. "But my apartment is not on the way to the docks..."

Killian shrugged. "I guess it's one of the advantages of being your own boss, that allows you to bring breakfast to your girlfriend without worrying about being late."

A strange sensation settled in her heart when she heard him say that word aloud, but Emma preferred to teasing him a bit instead of paying attention to her body's reactions or the escalation of feelings taking over her. "Girlfriend, uh? We've only had one date, don't you think it's a bit pretentious to use that term?"

"Oh, but you're wrong, love. If we ignore the whole month of 'not dating'..." He managed to do the quoting sign with both hands even though he still was holding the paper bag "...Yesterday's would be our third date."

"Third date?"

"Aye, don't you remember our first virtual date, or the second one, the 'movie and popcorn' date?"

She did remember. And she also remembered her own words about a third date — I don't do pillage and plunder until the third date —. The pillage and plunder thing hadn't happened last night, by the way. Emma noticed how her cheeks began to burn as a chill ran down her spine when her treacherous mind started creating different scenarios to develop that activity, each more sinful than the one before.

"Whatever you say." Emma snapped, forcing herself to save those thoughts for another time. "I'm hungry, let's see what you've brought me."

She grabbed the bag and headed for the kitchen. If Killian realized her agitation he didn't mention it, he simply followed her lead. And if her hips swayed slightly in her way trusting that he wouldn't take his eyes off her and that at least her actions would have the same impact on him, well, no one had to know.

They enjoyed their first official breakfast as a couple as they had done before, food peppered with smiles, banter and knowing glances. To her relief, no awkwardness arose between them. On the contrary, she felt even more comfortable and secure with him at her side now that she no longer had to suppress her feelings, didn't have to pretend that she wasn't affected by the accidental touch of their hands, and could express her affection through longing glances or the brush of her lips against his.

There was a moment, when Killian placed a soft kiss on her cheek before getting up to pick up the leftovers and clean her countertop, in which Emma had to shake her head to get rid of a certain feeling of disbelief. She found it hard to believe that only a few hours had passed since their first real date. The comfort and domesticity that surrounded them caused a warm feeling to run through her veins and reach her heart making it swell.

He even waited for her to take a quick shower. The last scene that her eyes registered while she headed the bathroom, was the image of Killian settling on her couch as if he owned the place, making it even more necessary a shower that would allow her to get rid of those mixed feelings — delight and panic — that threatened with colliding.

The spray of warm water falling on her had its desired effect, managing to calm her agitated heart. The calm was short-lived, though. That effect went out the window at the moment she returned to her living room and met with the bright flash of a smile and a look of approval through his very blue eyes. God! She was in serious trouble with that man.

Fortunately, her phone came to her rescue once again, as, at that moment, she remembered the unanswered messages sent by Ruby and Elsa. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth in an attempt to suppress the grin that threatened to appear when an idea jumped in her head.

"I have to do something before leaving, come here." Emma waved her hand at Killian as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He, of course, complied, giving her an inquisitive look as he stood beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She raised the hand that held the phone in front of them, as she snuggled up beside Killian. He, always so perceptive, seemed to understand what was her intention, since, without any instructions, he planted a loud kiss on her cheek just as she pressed the button, capturing the moment.

Good Morning ;)

After sending the brief message accompanying the selfie to her two friends, she grabbed her boyfriend's hand — Gods, she still didn't dare utter that word out loud, the term still strange to her — and they both headed for the exit.

Killian, always the gentleman, accompanied her to her car. Before she got into the vehicle though, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down while kissing her softly. It was a brief kiss, just his lips brushing hers, but with the ability to take her breath away to the point that, feeling how he was beginning to break the kiss, she searched his lips again, reluctant to let him go just yet. She didn't care in the least that they were giving quite the show in the middle of the street. Again.

As Emma let herself be wrapped in the sensations, she wondered if that spiral of feeling inside her would ever calm down; if the warmth that spread all over her body would ever get cool; if the butterflies in her stomach would ever stop beating their wings. All of this was so new to her that she was a little overwhelmed by the escalation of feelings in such a short space of time; at the same time, she also feared that those feelings would end at some point, leaving her empty again.

"I would not complain if the breakfast thing becomes a kind of habit," Emma muttered once she managed to detach herself from his lips and look him in the eye.

"I'm afraid I cannot promise you that, love." One of the corners of his lips twisted slightly upward as he scratched behind his ear. "I have some routes scheduled early in the morning for the rest of the week." He added, looking at her sheepishly through his lashes.

Despite his cute apologetic expression, she felt a tug of disappointment in her stomach. Just as her lips moved in an attempt at an incipient pout, he went into action again, slowing the movement with a new kiss. "I'll make up for it, I promise. See you later?" He murmured, his breath caressing her lips and causing a warm sensation humming beneath her skin.

"Sure, just call me." She managed to utter through a goofy smile before finally entering the car.

Reluctant to lose sight of him, she checked from the rearview mirror as Killian walked away in search of his own vehicle. Only when he disappeared from her sight did she realize that she was still grinning like an idiot while she felt the heat on her cheeks. She forced herself to pull herself together, taking two deep breaths to calm her inner agitation and behave like a normal adult person, not like a girl with her first crush.

Just as she was about to start the car, Emma remembered that she hadn't checked her phone. In fact, several messages were waiting to be read. Although she tried to resist, since she was already late for work, she finally gave up, the curiosity to know the content of the texts was more powerful than her urgency to get to work on time. The messages she found did nothing to make her smile weaken, rather the opposite.

Ruby: Omg! He stayed??? He spent the night??

Ruby: Tell me something!

Ruby: Emma? Tell me we can add one more skill to the list.

Ruby: I want all the details! Well, maybe not everything.

Ruby: Who am I kidding? I want to know everything! Give me juicy information, please!

Although reluctant, Emma felt obliged to get her out of her mistake.

ES: We haven't slept together. Yet. He only brought me breakfast.

Ruby: He brought you breakfast? Well, ‘God in bed’ ability will have to wait then. Meanwhile, we can add a hopeless romantic, can't we?

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, but Emma didn't have time to answer Ruby, as her phone continued to buzz. This time it was Elsa who had sent her a message.

Elsa: Omg Emma! You both look so happy!! I can't wait to talk to either of you to know the details. I'm so happy for you... Seriously, call me when you have the chance!

ES: I'm heading to work now. I'll call you at lunchtime. Thanks for being there, Elsa.

Elsa: Of course. As I already told you, you can count on me. That's what friends are for, isn't it?

Elsa's last words sank deep into her heart, while Emma felt her eyes begin to sting. She still found it hard to believe that, despite the almost paralyzing fear of lowering the walls and risking exposing herself, that also resulted in a new blossoming sensation, with the ability to make her heart swell. She hoped that feeling of someone caring about her would never go away.

Dating Killian Jones turned out to be much more reassuring than Emma thought. The oppressive fear in her chest had been replaced by the steady flutter of her stomach every time she saw him. Or even if they were not together at that moment, any thought about him had pleasant physical effects on her. Surprisingly, it was as if, with the demolition of the last brick of the wall around her heart, instead of premonitory clouds, a promising sun would now have appeared in front of her.

If someone had told her long ago that Emma Swan, the lonely and guarded woman would at some point experience this continuous state of bliss, this feeling of floating while her heart burst with happiness, she would have laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

There were days when she still found it hard to believe that this was her life now, her cheeks aching from so much smiling, stomach pain caused by laughter, the perpetual flutter in her stomach, the tingling under her skin. But it was a reality, Emma Swan was happy for the first time in her entire life.

Three weeks later, Emma was still in that kind of state and it didn't seem like it was going to vanish at any time soon, to her relief.

This new stage in their relationship had not brought great changes in their lives, at least compared to the weeks after his return to Boston (If she compared it to Emma's pre-phone loss the change was brutal, though). They continued to perform the same established routines, eat at Granny's, Fringe marathons, sailing, hang out with Belle and Will, and Sunday brunch including the BOWS club meetings.

There was a not so subtle difference, though. Now they had incorporated other types of activities much more pleasurable. That first Bridget Jones Style kiss had been no more than a prelude to the many that were to come. Intense sessions of making out in any of the two apartments were sprinkled with furtive kisses during visits to one or the other's office. Now there were sweet kisses, just a light brush of lips in contrast with the most passionate, those searing kisses with the ability to leave her breathless and make all her skin tingle craving for more.

Their level of intimacy had been limited only to those shared kisses so far, though. Three weeks later she had not yet had the chance to add " God in bed " to Killian's endless list of qualities. They had decided to take things slow. Well, Killian had made the request under the premise that they had all the time in the world, that he preferred not to rush to find the ideal moment, faithful to his decision to make all the advances in their relationship have a special, unique touch, just like their first kiss. Just like their whole relationship from the very first moment, actually.

She had agreed at first, but after several weeks with little or no progress at all in that regard except for some tentative caresses in the heat of the moment Emma had begun to grow impatient, the intense sessions of making out ended too abruptly for her liking, leaving her frustrated, flustered, breathless and exceptionally horny without the possibility of lightening the growing sexual tension dancing among them unless she took things into her own hands.

If this had happened with someone else —named Walsh —she would have started worrying. With Killian, the feeling was different, in spite of everything. At least that indicated his penetrating gaze full of desire, lust, and longing that he directed her non-stop, with the ability to make her melt or set her on fire inside. The way his body pressed against hers when they were wrapped in one of their many kissing sessions making it clear how affected he felt by their activities was also a sufficient indication that the desire was there, simmering inside. She just had to wait for it to surface.

The day he suggested dinner in his apartment for that very night, Emma wondered if the moment had finally arrived. She tried not to read too much in the way he had addressed her, purring the words as he undressed her with his gaze, but her body had betrayed her once more, a rush of liquid heat running to her very core.

Although she had tried to pretend in front of him, using a carefree tone while teasing him with his possible choice of menu for dinner, the truth was that nerves had begun to make an appearance, along with an old friend, a paralyzing fear. This would be the first time in a long time that she shared a bed with someone with feelings involved.

She wasn't a prude, sex was not a problem, or at least it was the least of her issues. This had happened with her several one-night stands over the years. These exchanges were usually something quick and easy, without complications. Both her partner and she knew what they wanted and went for it.

But she wasn't sure what to do with this growing amount of feelings bubbling under her skin. Her mind had only retained small vestiges of what it had been like to make love with Neal and back then she had been too young and inexperienced, at least at the beginning. She suspected that with Killian everything would be different for several reasons, but the main one was that she was already a grown woman, had gained enough experience and, above all, her feelings were now much more intense. That thought alone made her heart beat frantically in her chest while her head spun.

A sense of vulnerability and insecurity settled in her stomach, mixed with her almost irrepressible desire. After this huge step, she would not only have given her heart to Killian, also her body and her very soul. And that terrified the hell out of her. Old Emma would have run through the hills or turned the fact into just sex. This new Emma, however, after taking two deep breaths, forced herself to leave behind her insecurities and get the best out of this first night together. The prelude to the many that were to come, at least that was what she hoped.

Well, as long as her suspicions came true, of course. A thought crossed her mind just as she stood in front of her wardrobe choosing the outfit she would wear. Until now, showing a certain sense of selfishness, she had only taken into account her own feelings, but there were two people involved here, and the other person, Killian, also carried his own old demons. Maybe that was the reason, maybe he was also scared to offer her something that he hadn't offered since Milah.

Emma shook her head, blinking away all those thoughts and decided to let herself go. She would trust her instincts and Killian's reactions, without forcing anything. If tonight there was finally no sex between them, she could wait. She wasn't going anywhere.

Still, at the last moment, she decided to grab a backpack and put some toiletries and a change of clothes inside. It was Friday after all and, even if they didn't sleep together, at least they could continue with their Fringe marathon. Maybe she would fall asleep on the couch. It wouldn't be the first time. Would it be?

Friday, July 21, 2017

The sharp thud of the knife against the cutting board resounded in his kitchen, causing Killian to come out of his reverie and realize that he was perhaps exerting too much force in chopping the vegetables from the salad.

He should have known better. From the very beginning, everything about Emma had affected him in such a way to the point of feeling like a schoolboy sometimes and turning him into a bundle of nerves unable to control his emotions.

All the bravado displayed when he had suggested the plan for the night had gone out the window when the implications of what would happen washed over him. " Bloody hell ", he muttered to himself as he dragged his hand down his face and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw. He was a grown man, how on earth was he so affected by the idea of spending the night with a woman?

He had the answer, of course. Maybe he had tried to fool himself with poor excuses that masked the real reason why after three weeks of dating they hadn't yet had sex. The explanation he had offered to Emma was true. But there was another deeper meaning hidden behind that excuse, he had his own reasons for postponing the act. Even though his intention to keep moving on was firm, he was still far from reaching his destination. The fact that by the time he had finally gotten back his phone he had hidden it in a drawer without even checking out its contents was an indication of it.

He wanted to offer Emma something unique, something special and unforgettable. But for that to happen he needed that during their first time together there would be no ghosts of the past hunting them, hovering around the bedroom. He wanted to offer himself completely to Emma, without fissures, without uncertainty. She deserved it. And that state hadn't been achieved until now, when he had realized that all his thoughts were consumed by Emma. Her image was the first that came to mind when he woke up in the morning, her memory the last before closing his eyes and surrendering to sleep.

The ghost of that bloke, Walsh, was also hovering over him. No way did he want to be compared to such a despicable guy and he did not want to risk Emma getting the wrong idea either.

These three weeks had been real agony, as if he had decided to impose himself a kind of punishment by engaging in a frustrating and tortuous path. The innumerable cold showers he had taken throughout these days had been nothing more than a small relief to his almost constant state of agitation.

He could feel in all the fibers of his being that he was ready to take the next step, but that did not stop his insecurities from surfacing since this would be the first time he would sleep with a woman since Milah with feelings involved.

Because the truth was undeniable, he harbored deep feelings for Emma. He still didn't dare to put a name to them but they swirled inside, struggling to come to the surface even if it was in the form of a caress, a longing glance or a promising kiss, without him being able to stop them.

Other kinds of worries also boiled inside him. Far were the first years after Milah's death, when he had tried to drown his sorrows in alcohol and sex. He had realized gradually that the answer was not there, so even though alcohol had been a companion on more occasions than necessary, the female company had been spaced out in time. There had been no woman in his bed for quite some time, the last one, just before traveling to Ireland in November of the previous year. The fear of not measuring up, of not being able to offer Emma what she deserved was real.

The sound of someone knocking on the door made him flinch and almost cutting himself in the process. He dropped the knife between curses and forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to calm his growing nervousness before opening the door.

At the last moment, before facing Emma, he decided that, whatever happened tonight, enjoying Emma's company would be more than enough for him. But this time, if she, who always seemed to be one step ahead in that regard, decided to keep moving forward, he not only wouldn't slow down her progress but would gladly encourage her to continue exploring.

All his doubts and insecurities disappeared the moment his eyes fell on Emma. She presented herself to him as a goddess wearing a simple sundress, her golden hair combed in a braid that fell over her shoulder. Her cheeks were colored by a slight rosy hue and her green eyes glowed in a special way as her lips drew a tempting smile, in clear invitation to be kissed.

But what really captivated him, causing his heart to flutter was the fact that she was carrying a backpack slung over her shoulder, implying, without needing words, that she was more than willing to spend the night. With him. Preferably in his bed. And maybe the next day too, at least if he had anything to say about it.

"Hi," she greeted him before brushing his lips with hers. He watched in awe as she passed by him in the direction of the kitchen, dropping the backpack on the couch on her way and perching herself onto one of the stools located next to the kitchen island, as if she owned the place. As if she belonged there. Well, where would the lie be? A special part of his heart already belonged to her.

"Oh thank God!" She blurted, noticing the sandwiches on the counter, waiting to be grilled. "I thought for a moment that you were going to prepare some of those recipes of yours with fish involved."

Her expression of disgust with a wrinkled nose and an adorable pout caused a chuckle bubbling in his throat. He approached the counter, taking up the task of chopping the vegetables for the salad. "I was tempted, but I had the suspicion that wouldn't be the most appropriate choice if I wanted this not to become a one-time thing."

"So you decided to seduce me with food instead, didn't you?" She teased him as she arched one of her perfect eyebrows, her tongue peeking to moisten her already luscious lips.

He pretended to remain focused on the salad but couldn't help but cast a sidelong glance at her. "Is it working?" He asked dropping his voice to a husky whisper. "Just wait to see the dessert I've prepared just thinking of you."

In answer, she got up and pounced on him, taking him by surprise as she caught his lips with hers in a demanding kiss. He was definitely going to get cut before finishing the bloody salad.

Before he could react, she pulled away from him, sporting a naughty smirk as she returned to her position on the stool. "For me to decide I have to try it first, don't you think?" She murmured, licking her lips again as if to prove her point. Bloody hell, her performance was not helping in the least to control his agitation. He swallowed hard, while his blood ran hot to the south, all the cells of his body craving for her. He had to close his eyes for a second, trying to calm down enough to avoid having his way with her right there, in the middle of the kitchen.

He hastened to finish the salad, placing the bowl in her hands. "And that's the plan, love, that you taste all the delights I've prepared for you. And now, would you be so kind as to bring that to the table?"

"Are you sure you don't need help here?" She offered through a smile that seemed innocent enough, but he didn't trust that she wouldn't continue to tempt him if she stayed with him in the kitchen.

"I'll go up in a bit, when I finish the sandwiches." He assured her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Everything else is already set on the rooftop."

Her eyes widened as a flash of approval crossed her gaze. "So dinner on the rooftop, eh? I like the way you think." She said, as she walked away in the direction of the spiral staircase, the swaying of her hips perhaps too suggestive for her own good.

When she disappeared from his sight, he clenched his jaw, directing his gaze to the ceiling in an attempt to summon enough self-control to finish the dinner without incident. The siren he had as a girlfriend was certainly making it difficult for him.

Killian arrived at the roof a few minutes later, holding the plates with the grilled cheese sandwiches. He found that Emma was already sitting in one of the garden chairs, while gazing appreciatively at everything around her.

She wore a peaceful expression, matching the quiet night that had already fallen on Boston. The place looked impressive, honestly. He congratulated himself for having achieved just what was he was looking for. The only source of light came from various candles and lanterns distributed along the balcony, creating an intimate atmosphere. A fresh, summery scent from the many plants in his private garden surrounded them. No sound, no outside glance could interrupt their dinner. There was just the two of them and the endless feelings dancing between them.

To his relief, dinner was a success. They seemed to have reached a non-verbal agreement to temporarily park the evident sexual tension emanating from them and instead they just enjoyed the delicious food while keeping a fluent conversation peppered with smiles and knowing glances. He still was surprised that they felt so comfortable in each other's company. Maybe the month of the pact, while they built their friendship without pressure, just getting to know each other, it had served its purpose so that now there was no awkwardness flitting between them.

When it was time for dessert, Killian insisted that Emma remain relaxed on the rooftop, but she rejected the idea immediately, alluding that she had to see with her own eyes if "that dessert of yours is so worth it."

He should have suspected that Emma would find a pleasurable way of waiting for the cakes to be baked. Actually, he couldn't blame Emma entirely, since from the moment he closed the oven door he turned around and they both met halfway, their lips fusing together.

Only when the timer started ringing, announcing that the dessert was ready, they managed to detach from each other, the intense chocolate aroma emanating from the oven reaching their nostrils at that time. Emma closed her eyes for a moment as she inhaled deeply, a soft sound sliding between her lips, as if she was already savoring the cake. When she opened her eyes again, she stared at him with a fire in her emerald gaze that immediately made his blood run hot.

He had to swallow hard, resisting the temptation to grab her and kiss her senselessly, to hell with the cakes. Later, he thought as he forced himself away from temptation and turned his attention to the oven. He had spent a lot of time elaborating the recipe and would be disappointed if the result wasn't what he expected, so he held his breath while unmolding the cakes, feeling the scrutiny of Emma's gaze on him.

"Oh my god, you've baked chocolate lava cakes, haven't you?" When Killian looked up he found that Emma's face had lit up, her lips drawing a giant smile. He couldn't help but smile too, marveling at Emma Swan's complexity. A minute before she was showing off all her power of seduction and the next minute she acted like a little girl receiving a birthday present.

Until now he had only witnessed some glimpses of the previous Emma, the lonely woman who protected her heart fiercely, erecting walls difficult to climb. But he had managed to see what was behind those walls almost from the beginning. The fact that, in a way, he was contributing to these walls disappearing, showing this wonderful woman, was a source of pride for him, although he also harbored some responsibility. But if he had to spend hours in the kitchen making a dessert for her to give him that bright smile and that sparkle in the eyes, so be it.

"There's only one way to find out." Killian winked at her as he offered her a teaspoon. She bit her bottom lip, looking around, as if deciding whether she stayed there or not. Then she grabbed the spoon and plate and hurried toward the stairs.

"Hurry up, I don't want it to cool and ruin the effect." Emma urged him, before climbing up and disappearing from sight. He, of course, followed her. He would always follow her.

The cake was delicious, that dessert was one of his specialties for a reason, after all. Emma seemed to think the same, at least that implied her expression, as she watched in awe how the liquid chocolate escaped through the crack formed by the spoon, reaching the plate. A soft moan slid between her lips as she closed her eyes savoring the chocolate, causing a chill to run down his spine. She was going to be the death of him even before they had the chance to move to his bedroom.

"One of these days I'm going to record you making those sounds while you eat. It's funny how they could be understood in a quite different way if someone doesn't know the context." The words escaped his lips before he had time to process them, but given Emma's reaction, he did not regret it at all.

Even in the gloom, he noticed how her cheeks flushed, but, far from looking embarrassed, she gave him a seductive look from under her lashes as she brought the empty spoon to her lips and licked the remains of the chocolate. Next, she simply shrugged, as she replied in a sensual tone, her low voice full of intention. "I can't help it, chocolate is one of my great pleasures, as you may have guessed. But I will try to keep quiet next time."

"Don't even think about it, Swan." He almost growled. If chocolate was one of Emma's great pleasures, one of his own was to watch her little gestures and sounds. He would never tire of continuing to discover all the pieces of the wonderful puzzle that she represented.

They managed to finish the dessert without any other interruption. When Emma offered to help him clear the table, he refused, alluding that she was the guest of honor and that she should take advantage of those moments to relax enjoying the magnificent night outside. Emma reluctantly agreed. Still, it was clear that she felt at ease, at least the way she settled into her seat indicated it.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, he returned to the upper floor, his skin tingling in anticipation of what was to come. The image he found reminded him immediately of the first time Emma had spent the night in his apartment, when he had found her the next day at that very spot.

She held the same position this time, leaning on the railing, her head slightly turned, allowing him to observe her profile, her gaze lost somewhere in the darkness of the night, her lips drawing a smile of contentment. She was breathtaking.

As on that occasion, he approached her and wrapped her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Her back arched at the moment she felt his presence, while her hands moved to seek his arms and tighten the embrace.

"I love this balcony." Emma murmured as she rested her head against his chest. "I would be happy living here, even without a bed."

He was aware that she was just joking but the mere thought that this could come true in the near future caused a strange sensation in his heart, something like longing. He blinked away those thoughts, leaving them for another time and decided to play along.

"In fact, there's a pullout bed in the studio next to the rooftop, love."

"Uhm, tempting, but the bathroom is downstairs, too far away. A pity."

"Besides, while I've not been able to experience it until now, I suspect that winter in Boston is not the most suitable season to live in the open." Killian realized the meaning of his words when he noticed how Emma tensed slightly under his embrace. It was true, he hadn't yet spent any winter here, always traveling to Ireland during the colder months. A sense of uneasiness settled in his stomach due to the fact that in a few months he would have to leave the city again to travel and meet his family. But there was still time for worrying about that, they would cross that bridge when they both arrived. That was an agreement between her and him from the moment they started their relationship, to take advantage of the moment, not to let their future expectations dictate how they should live their present.

"Do you know one of the things I like the most about your rooftop?" Emma's soft voice brought him back to reality. She continued without waiting for an answer. "Privacy. Nobody can see or hear us."

"I guess we should take advantage of that, shouldn't we?" Killian muttered before beginning to sprinkle the exposed skin of her neck and collarbone with light kisses, his lips leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Emma's response was immediate, to his delight. She turned around and, grabbing his shirt, she pulled him close, her lips capturing his in a searing kiss.

He was a goner from that moment on, too consumed by her kisses, her essence, the feeling of her warm body pressed against his. While trying to comply with her demanding lips, he lost track of time and space to the point that he wasn't even aware of moving into the studio and sitting on the couch with Emma straddling his lap.

They devoured each other as if there were no tomorrow, their hands were everywhere, her hips moving over him and exerting a delicious friction that was driving him crazy with need.

He wouldn't have minded giving in to passion right there, in the gloom of the studio, while the soft breeze of the night crept through the open door to the rooftop. But he had other plans that basically meant worshiping Emma's body for endless hours, under the shelter of his sheets, in his own bed.

Displaying an entire exercise of self-control, he managed to separate his lips from hers for a moment, searching her gaze while cupping her cheek with one hand. "Emma, love, we..." His voice trailed off when Emma ignored him, nipping his lower lip lightly instead as she moved her hips against his evident arousal. He couldn't help a growing groan from deep in his chest, but he tried again. "We need to move." He breathed against her swollen lips.

"I don't want to move." She mumbled, a shadow of disappointment crossed her gaze, as if she anticipated that her advances would be stopped once more. He realized at that moment that it might have been a mistake to wait these three weeks without giving her an honest explanation, which might have led to her getting the wrong idea. He needed to get her out of her mistake. "I need... I would prefer if we continue this in a more comfortable place."

She stared at him through narrowed eyes, her brow furrowed, as if she was trying to discern his true intentions. He decided to act to make it clear that he didn't have the faintest intention of leaving things that way. His hand slid down from the back of her head to the small of her back, looking for that part of her anatomy that he found so delectable, even covered by clothes. He pressed, drawing her close so that she could note how very interested he was in continuing.

She was a vision just like that, a moan escaping between her lips, a soft blush adorning her neck and cheeks, her heavy breathing causing her chest to move in a distracting way. But what fascinated him the most, was the fire in her eyes, he could lose himself in the intense green sea of her gaze. To his relief, she seemed to understand the message as her lips drew the ghost of a smile. "I'm pretty comfortable here."

"Aye, but we can get even more comfortable." He insisted, though his resolve weakened at times. He cradled her head with his other hand and tugged her lips to his to keep savoring her, something to which he had already become addicted. She moaned again against his lips, angling her head to allow him deeper.

After a few seconds —or maybe minutes, he wasn't sure, his mind too clouded with lust— it was Emma who decided to break the kiss, her eyes sparkling with a playful glow. "What happened to your idea of looking for something unique? Because I find the bed quite traditional and a bit boring, to be honest."

"That's because you haven't shared a bed with me yet, Swan. So, what do you say? Are you willing to find out if my bed and the activities we develop in it fulfill your expectations of originality?" He suggested lowering his tone to a sensual whisper.

He must have sounded convincing, at least that's what he assumed from the expression she wore, biting her lower lip as she arched one of her eyebrows. "Okay, take me to bed, Jones."

"I would gladly carry you, but I don't want to risk tripping while we go down the stairs."

She giggled, really giggled, before getting up and offering her hand, pulling him then and leading the way, as it used to happen lately. He, of course, obliged.

Once in the shelter of his bedroom, they took things more calmly, sharing languid kisses while their hands began their first tentative explorations on their bodies. Her mouth molded so perfectly to his that he could spend hours doing just that, savoring her soft lips, letting himself be intoxicated by her scent, feeling her teeth playfully nibble on his lower lip.

Emma grew impatient, since, after one last kiss, she turned around in his arms, offering him a sinful glance over her shoulder. "I may need help with the zipper." Her soft and seductive voice causing him to feel his pants getting tighter.

As the zipper of the dress descended, he got a glimpse of her underwear, making his desire to taste her creamy skin more urgent, the tingling of his fingers craving to touch and feel the warmth that emanated from her. Before turning around and facing him again, she let the dress slip down, pooling at her feet.

He breathed out on a shaky exhale when his eyes finally settled on her almost naked figure but he barely had time to extend his arm to caress her perfect curves, since Emma's lips were on his in an instant, as he reached for his t-shirt and pulled on it in a gesture not too subtle for him to take it off.

Once they stripped each other, their clothes scattered all over the room, he gently pushed her down and made her lie on the bed. He took a moment to appreciate her body, the corners of his lips rising slightly as the memory of a photograph came to mind.

"You're stunning, Swan." He leaned in, covering her body with his and leaving a trail of kisses from the line of her jaw to her neck. "Do you remember the picture you sent me with you in that bathtub?" He lifted his head, seeking her gaze. Emma did not answer, but her cheeks blushed even more, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She remembered, of course. "I haven't been able to get that image out of my head since then. Trying to imagine what would be hidden behind those bubbles has driven me crazy." His voice came in a raspy tone before he put back his mouth to better use.

"Have I exceeded your expectations?" She murmured, her warm breath caressing his lips.

"Indeed." He barely lifted his lips to mumble his answer and then returned to his task of kissing her senselessly.

She had other plans, though. Breaking the kiss, she cupped his cheek with one hand, locking her eyes with his. She had that expression on her face, her lips drawing the ghost of a grin, a challenging flash crossing her gaze. "And are you going to do something about it?"

"Aye." His whole body hummed in anticipation, while he was unable to hide the lust in his voice. "Would you allow me to touch you, Emma? To taste you?"

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

Her head nodded frantically giving him the permission he needed. From there, he became a man with a mission; his goal, to enhance every drop of pleasure Emma has.

For the next few minutes he devoted himself to touch, to taste, to explore and worship her body the way she deserved, using his hands, his teeth, his tongue and getting her to vibrate under his touch, the delicious sounds that escaped from her mouth causing his level of arousal to rise until it was almost painful, leaving him in need of an urgent release. The moment she came undone, uttering his name on a trembling exhale, he knew he had fulfilled his goal, a wave of satisfaction and pride washing over him.

But the night had not ended there, in fact, it had only just begun, at least that's what Emma's actions implied when she came down from her high, her breathing still heavy, her lips swollen, and a penetrating gaze with the ability to take his breath away. She pulled him towards her for a kiss, while her hands ran up and down his back.

He needed her, he needed to feel her on a deeper level or his desire would end up combusting him. She seemed to understand, helping him put on the proper protection, his movements somewhat clumsy at first, causing them to share a funny moment, easing the tension. "I'm sorry love, I may be a bit out of practice."

"That's not the way it seemed in your previous performance." She assured him through a grin. "Come here. Let's practice a bit more."

Only when he positioned himself between her legs did he realize that the delay of three weeks had been worth it, that they had managed to make nothing and nobody cloud their magical moment. His heart tightened in his chest at the thought that he should perhaps feel guilty for having developed such intense feelings and because now Emma was the one who occupied all his thoughts. But deep down, he knew that Milah would approve what was about to happen. She would have wanted him to be happy and, in fact, he was about to burst with happiness.

"Killian?" Emma's voice came to his ears with a slight hint of concern. A crease between her brows and an inquisitive look made him see that he had remained absorbed for too long. The time to take action had arrived.

She was all that mattered now. His lips drew a soothing smile in order to remove any trace of worry from her beautiful face. Only when she smiled back, cheering him up without words, did he lean in search of her lips at the same moment he slid inside her.

He stifled a moan as their bodies fused together, feeling her warmth envelop him, his heart beating frantically and threatening to come out of his chest. He wasn't used to such sensations running through his veins, all his muscles tensed, overwhelmed by the emotions. He buried his face in Emma's hair, needing a few seconds before beginning to move.

Once he was able to regain control over his body, he set a new goal, bringing Emma to ecstasy once more. It was then when they began to move in synchrony, enjoying the pleasure of skin against skin, their bodies molded to each other as if they had been created for that purpose.

He had been aware from the beginning that what would happen in his bed wouldn't be just sex, but it was one thing to think about it and quite another to feel it in all the fibers of his being causing a kind of vertigo, his head spinning to the certainty that they were making love, although the word was still too big to even think about.

Their movements were full of passion, her demanding lips never leaving his. He tried to comply with each kiss, but he wasn't satisfied with just tasting her mouth, his lips brushing any patch of skin that his movements allowed to reach, her neck, her collarbone, her chest, while he let himself be intoxicated by the indescribable feeling of having such a goddess beneath him.

She also showed that she knew what she wanted, her hands were everywhere, although she seemed to have a predilection for his back. The way she stroked that part of his anatomy was driving him crazy. She could go from a subtle touch with her fingertips to an almost painful trace with her nails.

At one point, when he felt the pull of the impending climax approaching, he grabbed her hand, moving it over her head and intertwining her fingers with his. It was like this, with their mouths fused together drowning out their respective moans, how they found sweet release. In that precise moment, when he was still panting, unable to move, the adrenaline rushing high in his veins, he had the absolute certainty that he would live to bring pleasure to this wonderful woman in every possible way.

"It's not that I'm complaining, because I clearly am not, but will you ever tell me the real reason why we've waited so long to have... to sleep together?"

His brain was unable at first to process Emma's words. They were huddled side by side in his bed, her head resting on his shoulder, while her fingers traced delicate patterns on his bare stomach, their lower limbs tangled together.

After their amorous activities, he had entered in such a state of bliss and relaxation that he felt almost like he was floating while his eyelids became heavy to the point where he was about to doze.

Emma's voice activated his senses again, but his mind was still a little clouded, so he took his time before answering. Indeed, there didn't seem to be any trace of complaint in her voice, rather curiosity. Killian took a deep breath letting out the air slowly and then he decided to offer her an honest answer. She didn't deserve less.

"I just wanted to be sure there weren't any demons from the past wandering around us, that's all." He placed a soft kiss on her hair, trusting that his answer was enough.

Emma slowed the movement of her fingers on his skin for a brief moment, while he held his breath, but, to his relief, then she continued with her traces, while she replied with a single word. "Good."

"Besides, I remembered that bloke, Walsh, and I didn't want you to draw the wrong conclusion." His words came out of his mouth without he could do anything to stop them. What was wrong with him, bringing another man to the conversation while he lay with a woman in his bed?

Emma lifted her head looking for his gaze. "Do you remember?"

"I remember everything you've told me, darling, even though I still didn’t know you in person or didn’t even know what you looked like."

How was it possible that Emma had that look of disbelief on her face? As if it were hard for her to believe that someone could have such an interest in her. It was evident that he must work more in that regard and that, like him, although Emma was doing an impressive job in her attempt to open up to others, she still had a long way to go. He was sure that they would accompany each other in their paths. At least he had no intention of leaving her side at any time soon, both physically and metaphorically speaking.

Her expression changed subtly, a soft smile pulling at her lips, but then her brows furrowed. "Don't ever even mention that asshole. You both are not comparable and I wasn’t really worried, not at least in that aspect."

"Good." He parroted her earlier response, his stomach fluttering at the passion she put in her words, even if it was to throw a scolding at him. Then he pulled her to him again, his fingers tangled in her curls, as she resumed her task of caressing him.

Soon, he felt the sleepiness begin to invade him again. He had already decided to surrender to it by embracing Emma in his arms, when something put him on alert again. Suddenly, Emma's weight on him disappeared, causing a wave of irrational panic to meddle him at the thought that she was leaving his bed.

Impulsively, he reached out his arm and captured her wrist, slowing her movement. "Stay." He hated the vulnerability in his voice, using a single word as a plea. "Stay." He repeated with a firmer tone. She stopped her progress but kept her back to him, so he thought frantically of some reason that would make her stay. "If you come back to bed I'll make you breakfast tomorrow, and you already know my cooking skills."

This time he did get a reaction from Emma. She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder, her face showing an impenetrable expression. "Are you trying to seduce me with the food again?"

"Is it working?"

Only when her face split into a giant grin, was he able to let out the breath he had been holding.

"Always."

He offered her his hand and when she accepted, he pulled her towards him, both returning to their original positions. Sleep seemed to have abandoned him, though. He had already begun to resign himself to the fact that he would barely get to rest tonight, but having someone like Emma by his side, who needed to sleep? Indeed, the calm did not last long. Emma raised her head again, a mischievous smile adorning her features. "Just for the record, I wasn't going anywhere, I just needed to use the bathroom."

“Bad form love,” he muttered in a rough voice, as he pulled her closer, her golden curls brushing against his cheek, “taking advantage of a poor man desperate not to be alone. Should I punish you?"

“Is that…” she trailed off, a breathy moan slipping between her lips while his fingers slowly traveled along her spine, “... a promise?” A low groan blossomed deep in his chest, "you're going to be the death of me," he murmured before capturing her lips with his and surrendering to her once more.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

When Emma woke up the next morning the sun was already shining high in the sky, the soft morning light seeping through the window and illuminating the bedroom, causing Emma to remain reluctant to open her eyes just yet.

Her mind was still clouded by the vestiges of sleep, making her feel a little bewildered at first and with the need to snuggle, seeking refuge in the cool sheets in contact with her skin.

Gradually, as her mind cleared, she began to be aware of her surroundings. The moment her brain processed the fact that she didn't own such soft sheets, reality came in waves hitting her hard.

Of course, she was not in her bed, nor in her bedroom. A swirl of mixed feelings seized her as the memories of the previous night gathered in her head. She couldn't prevent a blush from crawling from her neck, making her cheeks burn, feeling somewhat embarrassed, something unusual in her with regard to such activities. Maybe the reason was that she wasn't used to waking up in the very bed in which they had carried out an intense, mind-blowing sex session just a few hours ago.

"Oh god." She covered her face with her hands while her stubborn mind insisted on repeating, again and again, the top moments of the night, making the blush of her cheeks increase, and also, a new wave of desire beginning to run through her veins.

She instinctively reached out her hand to the other side of the bed, finding it empty, something that did not surprise her, since Killian had previously informed her that he needed to get up early that Saturday morning. Still, a tug of disappointment settled in her stomach. But maybe it's better that way, she told herself. All this was so new to her that waking up with someone huddled by her side might have been like too much.

After letting out a deep breath, she stretched out on the bed, feeling her body slightly sore in the right places. An unstoppable smile of satisfaction bloomed on her face as she reached for her phone to check the time. The smile widened when, in addition to her phone, she found a handwritten note on the nightstand.

Good morning, my sleeping beauty. I apologize for having been forced to leave the bed so soon, but, as I had already told you, some clients wanted to watch the sunrise from the sea, so who am I to deny them such pleasure? Still, I'll be home in time to prepare the promised breakfast. Yours, Killian.

Two aspects caught her attention as she read the note. First, the deliberate use of possessives on two occasions and second, the word home and its implications. Maybe this wasn't her apartment, but he had made it clear that he was going back home, to her. She anticipated the arrival of panic, or the need to run away at the intensity of the feelings blossoming inside her, but, far from that, where before her heart would have tightened with fear, now it fluttered with anticipation. She really couldn't wait to see him and, above all, feel him again.

After placing the note on the table again she grabbed the phone. There was something important that she had to do. She opened the chat window with Ruby and started typing.

ES: We can now add 'God in bed' to Killian's list

The response of her friend was immediate.

Ruby: Yay! I knew it! Lucky girl, I envy you right now. I want all the details!

A chuckle bubbled in her throat at the shamelessness of her friend. In no way was she going to confess her intimacies, she might have opened up to others, but not to that extent. Even so, knowing that someone was out there interested in her caused a warm feeling to spread through her body.

ES: I'm not telling you anything, Ruby. Just suffice to say that I have every intention of continuing to practice throughout the weekend.

Ruby: Ouch, you're not funny. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the sex weekend. See you soon.

It was still early, at least for a Saturday morning. Emma deduced that Killian would still take a while to come back, so she needed to find a distraction while waiting for him. Although she was reluctant to leave the bed, she finally made the decision to crawl into the bathroom and take a shower.

The warm shower turned out to be a wise decision, the spray of water falling over her acting as a balm, although the water would also drag the vestiges of Killian's essence that still lingered on her skin. She was tempted for a moment to apply his shampoo, in order to keep his scent for a little longer, but finally decided to use her own, knowing in advance that Killian was quite fond of the vanilla scent, of her hair in general. Emma did not miss that he took advantage of the slightest opportunity to tangle his fingers in her curls, leave soft kisses on the top of her head or simply bring his nose close and inhale.

The shower had taken longer than she had thought at first since, when she came out, she perceived the unmistakable aroma of the bacon coming from the kitchen, causing her stomach to growl and her heart to skip a beat. Killian had arrived.

She hastened to towel off, untangle her hair, and get dressed, opting to wear only tiny panties and the famous Fringe t-shirt, which she had finally got two weeks ago.

Then she walked silently to the kitchen, finding Killian in front of the stove, his back to her, wearing only sweatpants and bare-chested. That meant he had changed clothes when he got home, which implied that, on his way to his bedroom, he would have passed in front of the bathroom door while she was inside, he just would have needed to open the door and... Stop! A flurry of heat flowed to Emma's core, as she bit her lower lip, holding back a groan. Breakfast. She needed to focus on breakfast and on her hungry stomach.

Still, that didn't stop her from slipping in quietly until she was just behind Killian. If he noticed her presence he didn't show it, since he continued with his task while humming in a low voice. Unable to resist any longer, she put her arms around him from behind, resting her head and her hair still damp on his back. A chill ran down her spine the moment her hands came into contact with his bare chest.

"Mmmm, something smells delicious."

Killian chuckled, the muscles of his chest moving under Emma's touch. "Wait to take a bite, they'll taste even better."

"I'm not talking about pancakes, I mean bacon." Without waiting for an answer, she approached the counter and grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate set there, bringing it to her mouth.

It was then when Killian's head turned, an arched eyebrow and an amusing expression on his face. "Bad form, love, stealing food while the other person is focused on getting the pancakes do not burn." He pointed at her with the spatula while winking. "I've always known there was a little pirate in you."

"Turn your head Jones, and do not get distracted." She faked a bossy tone, frowning as she made the gesture of turning around with her hand. "I'm still waiting for my promised breakfast, the bacon is just an advance." To prove her point, she bit the bacon again and licked her lips to savor it.

"So demanding, Swan."

"But you like it." She smirked at him as she perched on the kitchen island directly in front of him, from where she had the best access to continuing watching Killian. "I'm hungry, keep going."

He ignored her for a moment, his gaze scanning her body from top to bottom as if assessing whether to dash to capture his prey or not. Finally, his eyes traveled upwards, focusing on hers and directing her a penetrating gaze that shouted silently ‘later’. He licked his lips before tilting his head slightly. "As you wish." And then he turned around and resumed his task.

Emma enjoyed herself with the sight in front of her, with his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, the movement of his muscles as he worked, the way the sweatpants hung loosely from his hips... She suppressed the urge to send the breakfast and pancakes to hell and reach for those pants, now that she knew what was hidden under them. The mere idea made her mouth water and not just for the food.

Emma was unprepared for Killian to turn around unexpectedly holding a plate full of pancakes, "Your breakfast is ready, milady." He offered with an exaggerated bow. She realized at that moment that her mouth hung open, so she forced herself to press her lips together and focus her gaze on... the plate of pancakes. Too late. "See something you like, Swan?" The bastard smirked at her before approaching her with a predatory expression on his face.

Before Emma could react, he set the plate of pancakes on the counter, far enough away from her, and then reached for her.

"Good Morning." He murmured, his lips only inches from hers, circling her waist and pulling her to him.

"Hi," She managed to mumble, placing her arms around his neck, while a warm sensation spread all over her body, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. "I missed you this morning."

"Aye, love, me too." His lips came even closer to hers, without touching them. "Well, it's time to make up for the wait, isn't it?" Without waiting for her response, he finally offered her what she was craving, capturing her lips with his.

They continued like this for the next few minutes, the food completely forgotten, and instead, satiating their hunger for each other. His hands began to wander over her body, while he hummed in appreciation against her lips when he noticed that she had not bothered to put on the bra. "Even though I'm fond of that lovely t-shirt you wear, I'd rather see you without it." He growled while helping her to take it off with a fluid movement, leaving her bare torso to match him.

Even though her mind was clouded by desire, she found a glimmer of lucidity that she used to tease him. "So this is going to be the typical pre-breakfast sex session?" Killian ignored her, his scruff rubbing against the sensitive skin of her neck. Emma bit her lip in an attempt to suppress a moan and continued speaking in a seductive whisper. "You disappoint me, Jones. First, you go with the classic missionary position for our first time and now the cliché of sex in the kitchen. What happened to your idea of unique and special moments?" "I didn’t hear you complain about rounds two and three." He mumbled, hot puffs of air sending goosebumps down her skin. "But if you prefer, we can move our activities to a place that meets your standards of originality, like the rooftop, maybe?"

"Nah, maybe later. Come here, Jones, we still have several places to try in this apartment of yours." She drew him to herself pressing his chest against hers and enjoying the delicious friction of the hair of his torso against her delicate skin. Definitely, she could get used to this new way of enjoying Saturday mornings.

They spent the rest of the weekend in company with each other, much of that time in his apartment, exploring their bodies and discovering new forms of pleasure, their level of intimacy becoming even more intense. But they not only devoted themselves to enjoying fantastic sex, they also had time to get out of their particular bubble and socialize with their friends.

On Saturday afternoon Emma accompanied Killian to one of his practices to teach small kids to sail. Later, they met with Belle and Will to hang out for a while. When they returned to Killian's apartment hours later they resumed the task of continuing to enjoy each other.

On Sunday morning Emma did wake up with a warm body beside her on the bed. Contrary to what she had thought at first, feeling someone curled up next to her with a protective arm on her waist, far from appearing too much, caused her a feeling of contentment unknown until now, while she longed to wake up like this every morning— forever.

They had their usual brunch with Mary Margaret, David, and little Leo. This time, Graham and Merida, who had finally started dating, also joined them. She found this facet of socializing with other people more and more satisfying, something unexpected for her, but at least that was a sign that she was still on the right path of opening her heart completely.

They even had time to make a video call with Liam, Elsa, and the kids. This wasn't the first time she had participated in these calls since they had started dating. In addition, her level of affinity with Elsa had increased over the weeks and they chatted from time to time even if neither of the two Jones brothers were present. What differentiated this occasion from the previous ones was that she was dressed casually, with her hair pulled back in a loose bun, giving clear signs that she had spent the day—and the night— there. Elsa already knew of their plan in advance, of course, but Emma did not miss the look of appreciation that she directed at her.

Although Emma tried to extend her stay in Killian's apartment, on Sunday evening she resigned herself to returning to her own apartment. She needed a change of clothes and rest a whole night to go back to work the next day. Even so, when Killian accompanied her to the doorway, she still remained reluctant to leave. Killian was not going to make things easy for her, apparently.

"Are you sure you have to leave? Can I tempt you again with breakfast or something more special?" He practically purred his words, his warm breath caressing her lips.

Her resolve weakened at times, but she held her ground. "I have to rest, and something tells me that if I stayed I wouldn't get the rest I need. My boyfriend is quite insatiable, you know?"

Killian tilted his head, his eyes darting to her lips. "It's funny, because my girlfriend is also quite insatiable. I think they would like each other, wouldn't they?"

Emma hummed in agreement. "Maybe you're right."

"Anyway, I think that boyfriend of yours is a lucky guy." Emma lost herself for a moment in the intensity of his gaze charged with something akin to reverence. After letting out a deep breath, she brushed his lips with her own and walked away before falling into temptation.

"I am the lucky one, believe me." It was the last thing she said before turning and starting to walk down the corridor.

"Text me when you get home, please."

Emma turned her head slightly towards him and nodded silently. When she resumed her way she did it with a wide smile on her face and a sense of happiness spreading through her body.

I just got home.

Good;) By the way, how am I supposed to sleep now? Your vanilla perfume is everywhere, Swan.

Change the sheets?

Over my dead body!

How dramatic...

But you like it.

Maybe...

Sweet dreams.

I'm sure yours —if you get to sleep—will be sweet, indeed, sprinkled with a little bit of vanilla.

You're a bloody siren.

But you like it.

I do.

Even though the screen had gone blank, Emma stared at the phone for a few seconds, feeling the weight of the device on her hands. She sometimes had to shake her head at the feeling that this little device, or rather its predecessor, the one she had lost, had been the cause of her finding Killian. A sense of vertigo seized her as she thought what would have happened had she not lost the phone, had she not entered that cafe, and stolen Killian's phone by accident... Her life now would continue to be the miserable life she was used to. Instead, now she had a promising future ahead of her, something unthinkable until now.

Her brows furrowed when another thought, also related to the phone, crossed her mind. Even though it had been two weeks since he had retrieved his phone, he hadn't made any intention of using it again. He never carried it with him and wasn't in sight in his apartment either.

It was something strange in a way, since that phone had been the cause of bringing them together in the first place and was also quite more expensive than the one he had acquired at the airport. Her heart tightened in her chest as she wondered what would be the reason, sensing that there was a deep meaning behind it. Emma had the suspicion that the motive was not in the device itself, but rather in its content.

Before going to sleep, she took a mental note, she would ask Killian when she had the chance. He had helped her on so many levels to come out of her shell that the least she could do was help him to move on and overcome his past once and for all.

So, there was one more part planned initially for this chapter, but I then thought that, since it has been a fluffy one, that final angsty section wouldn't fit here, so I decided to leave it for the next chapter...

Thanks for reading, I'd like to know what you all think. :)

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr @ijustwantyoucaskett-always@kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @suwya

#cs ff #cs au #cs march madness #captain swan #call me #mayquita writes #my cs writings #cs ff au #captain swan ff

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