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marmot567 · 20 days

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bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk okkotsu #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk imagines

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holicanth · 3 years

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Joy and Union

Day 2 of Shinoweek 2021 - Winter, Friends/Family

Words: 2.3k

Genre: Fluff, friendship, FRIENDSHIP!!!

Warnings: Self-hate, suicidal thoughts.

Tags: Shinohina, Hinata’s worries and fears. Kiba acts like a clown, Team 8, Team 8 is chaotic and share one braincell.

Author’s Note: This is a onehsot. Wanted to make something light to counter the absolute shitstorm im about to make tomorrow :”v Hope you like it :D

Summary: A simple task—to tail a group of chuunin-level gangsters who had been extorting money from one of Konoha's poorer regions. The group was interested in the mining industry of the area, but have tried to take the compound with illegitimate force.

An insect user has to be able to adapt to all forms of weather, using chakra to regulate body temperature and balance at all times.

It takes a while for Shino to master this technique, but now he uses it almost automatically.

The reason being his persistence to use cloaks and the like in the heat of summer.

Shino knows that there is nothing wrong with his skin. It isn't scarred, tan, or even rough. The Aburames are all born with extremely regenerartive skin, but Shino fears the disgust reflected on his comrades when they see bugs dig out a hole from inside him

(He used to be more blatant with it, reveling in their shock. But Shino learns that this has left him more alienated than accepted)

So in summer months he would cover up with loose robes, with enough ventilation to help his bugs move freely. Of course, Shino prefers the warm embrace of sunlight, but he finds that the winter months can be more comfortable than they seem.

It was during a reconnaissance mission, dead winter, and Team 8 was assigned to a small village to Konoha's North.

A simple task—to tail a group of chuunin-level gangsters who had been extorting money from one of Konoha's poorer regions. The group was interested in the mining industry of the area, but have tried to take the compound with illegitimate force.

Kiba and Akamaru left to chase after the gang leader, while Shino and Hinata were to guard and uphold the mine from other assailants.

It was a quiet morning. The villagers were scared (as they should be) and have decided to hide themselves in their homes. Shino's bugs were less effective during winter, but enough to ward unsuspecting intruders.

Meanwhile Hinata was observing all around with her Byakugan. She has been up for a few long hours.

Shino is not a fool. He notices the pattern that Hinata's behavior takes during missions. To do her best. To never give up. To prove that she is worthy of something. Even if it pushes her over the brink. He’s always hated the way she thinks so poorly of herself, as if she deserved all the discomfort that comes from being a shinobi. He understands the feeling well, though.

"You know that you can leave this to me, right?" Shino muses next to her, "Rest, Hinata. You'll overwork yourself."

Hinata deactivates her Byakugan, lightly rubbing her eyes in an attempt to release strain

"B-But your bugs can't move much during winter, Shino-kun. You need extra chakra to regulate their temperatures." She glances at him, worry apparent on her voice. "You’ve saved me from their attack before. I don’t think you should move much…”

The aforementioned gang was comprised of a compilation of rouge ninja from all sorts of villages. They have a particularly bad reputation within poorer villages but are in esteemed positions in Sunagakure. They’re particularly dangerous for their rejection of manipulation of Suna politics. Not only that, they have weapon masters, innovators, and a single scientist who aid them in their operation.

The whole gang have been on the prowl for a long while, keeping themselves low for the last five years. Three months ago they’ve begun to act more hostile. Starting from a robbery in October to in a mining heist in December. An anonymous tip signaled that the whole gang are on the move, and going on extortion operations as a collective. This information went to the Hokage’s office, who then decided that the elite of the Konoha 9 were to deal with the issue. ‘They’re probably pissed that Gaara’s kazekage now’, Tsunade mentions.

A series of sneezes distracted Shino's thoughts back to Hinata.

Without thinking, Shino had automatically gave Hinata his coat. Winter is harsh towards insect-users, but Shino thinks he can handle this. Of course he can, after everything Hinata has done for the mission.

"Aren't you cold Shino-kun?"

They had a scuffle before, in which one of them surprised them with a Fire-style jutsu, resulting in the loss of 40% of Shino’s kikaichu. Kiba had been fast enough to dodge, but Hinata had to be shielded by Shino. Luckily, both of them were left unscathed. Leaving Hinata to her guilt and her disappointment.

"No, I'm fine. I'll be on guard now, you've done enough, Hinata."

Hinata has always felt lacking. Even if she excelled physically to her teammates, even when she's the de facto taijutsu master in her team. She was always too kind, they'd say. She's too forgiving. From the very beginning, Hinata has left Kiba and Shino to do the dirty work for her. Murdering a team of genins during the Chuunin exams was just the beginning of it.

And Hinata doesn't reject this. She was truly grateful that she didn't play an active part in these deeds.

(And all the while she weeps in regret.

She believed that Shinobi are meant to protect those precious to them.

She never thought that a Shinobi would do such immoral things.

But she never grew out of this mindset, either.)

Years has passed, and they've all grown into more mature, well-adjusted shinobis. She thinks about how to apologize to them. How to reverse the horrible things they've done in her stead. A shinobi is, ultimately, someone who protect those who are important to them. This is what she had trained so hard for. To protect and nurture. The idea of having to harm others in the name of protection—she detests it with her whole being.

Sometimes she thinks,

That if she dies, the souls of those her team has taken would be put at peace.

"It will be fine, Hinata. Don't worry, I can handle this amount of cold." Shino says, as he turned his back on her, facing to step outside the cave.

The Kikaichu were not fully recovered. Should another ambush take place, there was a high chance that Shino would be injured.

(Something in her urges her to rebel against his words. She didn't want it to continue like this—to have Kiba and Shino go out of their way for her.

Especially Shino.)

In a sudden fit, her hands clamped themselves around the boy.

She has always known that Shino was tall, but now that she's close to him did she realize how different their heights are. Hinata notices too that Shino was not as skinny as she thought he was, but she hadn't noticed rhe boy's confusion.

"Hinata what-"

Her ears were red.

"I'm sorry, Shi-Shino-kun, I..I was--"

Panic. She had to find an excuse immediately.

"I-I just think that you're warm Shino," she blushes, looking to the side "You're good at regulating your body temperarure so..."

If she could turn back time Hinata wishes that she could pull herself out of this situation. How silly of her. Hinata makes sure that she was always careful in every action--something she learned from her family the hard way--but she's found herself becoming clumsier than ever.

A trait she inherited from Kiba she supposed,

But this was not time to reminisce.

She has yet to release her hold. She thinks that she shouldn't. Her mouth doesn't form the words that she wants, and she's left speechless with the rush of emotions that gobble her. Her heart tears with a feeling of sorrow. Was she going to be left behind? She despises the way that her sincerity gets in the way of her job.

(Shino Aburame was not someone skittish. Had it been anyone else he'd have felt a bit odd, resistant even, but the fact that it was Hinata eases his mind.)

He doesn't bother her clutching on to him like this. But he doesn't immediately welcome the hug either. The idea of skinship was something he choose not to familiarize with, as people were always quick to avoid his advances, anyways.

(Shino had always been isolating himself against his peers. He strives so hard to be level-headed. He tries his best to do well in class. But none of that made him any more likable--with all the bugs and unfriendly demeanor.)

It started with a slight tap on the back, to one arm wrapped around her, and finally Shino eases himself enough to reciprocate the hug. Their eyes met. Somewhere, somehow, a strong feeling of compassion gripped him. In an instant, he felt an innate understanding rush to his head, as if he was absorbing all of Hinata’s emotions as they hugged.

(Silence fell still on them—the serenity of the scene filling them with an odd elation. Hinata’s mind was previously occupied with dark thoughts, but now she can think of nothing but the winter and Shino’s warmth.)

A lucid, fuzzy feeling overtakes Hinata. Her arms hugged tighter and she smiles into Shino's chest. At first, she was afraid that he'd jump out of her grip. Afraid that, like her family, Shino would have downright rejected any affectionate gesture.

(And the thought terrified her to death. The idea of being separated from her teammates. Separated from her home.)

Shino was pleasantly surprised at himself, too. How simple it was to connect with someone—how easy it had been for Hinata to break his walls. For the first time in a while, Shino feels the joy of having a genuine union with someone, and God did he crave for it so badly.

(Try as he might, but he has always lingered nearby her. Like a moth to a flame.

It felt so natural for Shino, yet his own insecurities had lead him to stubbornly reject all attempts of friendship)

They stayed like that for a minute. And that minute soon grew into half an hour. And just like that, Akamaru comes barking while dragging a group of chuunins tied by rope.

Both of them had known that the gang was strong, feared even. What they didn’t expect was Kiba to be so fast in tracking them down, defeating them single-handedly, and bringing them back to the village. He was always feisty and feral from the beginning, but Kiba really changes when someone hurts his teammates.

"Gee, look who's getting nice and cozy while I do all the work for us. I am so getting a day off after this..." Kiba mused, hauling the unconscious criminals to be taken by Akamaru to Kurenai.

"Kiba-kun! I'm... um... It's not like that..."

"Hinata thinks that I am a heater." Shino says, deadpan. "You can come near if you're cold, too."

Kiba processes Shino's words as his brain buffers. Shino? Allowing physical contact? It must be raining cats and dogs outside. Kiba was in disbelief but there was also a sense of pride in knowing that his teammate's ice cold facade had began to thaw.

Kiba had always been wary of Shino (In a good sense). He made sure not to overstep his boundaries after learning from several prank attempts that you can never escape Shino’s bugs, especially when he decides to use centipedes. Regardless, Kiba acknowledges his existence and understands that some people are a little bit more difficult to get by,

"Hmph. You think I'd need some warming up after all that chasing?" He pouts, looking to the side.

"Because you're fucking right!!" He yells as he tackles both of them to the snow, a cheeky grin lit on his face. Kiba’s brashness made both Hinata and Shino tumble into the snow. Now they’re all tired and not warm. Damn Kiba. His big idiot energy did not register the fact that snow is, indeed, cold.

"Kiba you stupid--now you've got us all cold!" Shino's remark gained light laughter from his teammates.

"That's right,” Kiba replies with a hearty laughter. Because we're going to the hot springs after this mission."

"Hot springs?" Hinata asked, turning to face Kiba "Where do we get the money for that? All the hot springs in the area are luxurious ones..."

Konoha’s northern side was known for it’s winter hot springs. A luxurious view of the mountains as you aid your body in the springs. The nearest one was renowned and popular among ninjas, claiming that the water had rejuvenating properties and could make one younger.

"That. Is something I can deal with." Kiba replies, in his leader-esque voice.

"And how would that be?" Shino is suspicious, but he seems to already know what Kiba is up to.

"You see...These criminals we're after are pretty bad, yeah? Extortion and all that. So when I wrang them up, I happen to find pouches of coins nearby."

There is a lot to be questioned from the word “happen to find”.

"Their pouches are awfully thick, stealing more profit than the ones they took from this village from God knows where. This is clearly our jackpot."

"Kiba-kun... I don't think that's allowed..."

"It is," He replies, sitting up, "We can return most of the money back, take a small fraction of it as added bonus. Don’t underestimate the Inuzuka’s Puppy Eyes Jutsu! Now, if we leave before they wake up, it’ll be in the bag!"

The three of them looked at each other. Nodded. And off they went, finishing affairs with the village chief and storming out of the village. This wasn't the first time Team 8 commited petty crimes, but getting away with it is part of a shinobi's skillset. Or so Kiba thinks.

Shino never thought winter could make him feel so giddy. He should have been freezing to death, especially when Hinata was borrowing his longcoat. But the andrenaline from Kiba's mischief was infectious, and he was unexpectedly more riled up than usual. Hinata too, was under the adrenaline rush.

If the old Shino saw him now, he’d berate him for being so loose. For willingly participate in childish mischief, during a mission, nonetheless. Oh, but Shino couldn’t care less for formalities that day! He’d brush the conduct as “misdemeanor due to injury” and sleep it off.

Shino finds that the winter months are more comfortable than they seem. Warm food, hot springs, and a good night's rest with your comrades. He wishes to meet many more winter months with his precious friends, together.

#shinoweek2021 #shino aburame #hinata hyuuga #kiba inuzuka #shinohina #team 8 share one braincell and it is for crime >:)#we love to see shino bonding <3 #kiba being big dumb always feels so right to me #i love how kiba is that one dude thats just vibing 24/7 #i cant relate to naruto at all i just want to be kiba tbbh #vibe and if someone pissed you off you mark them dynamically

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miracvlovs · 3 years

Text

✗✗✗ you see [ kaleb yıldırım ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis male ] is up to no good. [ he / him ] has been here for [ five years ] now but they’re still pretty [ abrasive ] which is fine because they’re also [ debonair ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-eight ] year old [ hitman for hire ] actually looks like a lot like [ alperen duymaz ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ strong cigarettes & even stronger whiskey ].

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie ( a.k.a an irish doofus who is utter plot trash and the actual WORST at keeping track with discord messages, oops ) and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! anywho, this is my first kiddo kaleb and he is … how do you say … morally grey. basically his morals are very questionable in every aspect. but! on the plus side, he’s very talented and good at his job even if he is ruthless and callous, oop. he is … the worst and also lowkey messed up inside tbh so pls excuse his blunt and sarcastic nature. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord ( chrissie.#9606 ) and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

KALEB EMER YILDIRIM — twenty-eight, hitman for hire, + one snarky son of a gun / troubled dude with daddy issues / all issues tbh !

aesthetics ➤ dried blood caked into the grooves of cut knuckles, the lingering scent of smoke and gasoline, silver slivers of past scarring, five o’clock shadow peppering a blunt jawline, discolourations of blue and purple decorating battered hands, a subtle smirk etched upon a devious countenance, calloused fingertips riddled with small paper cuts, dark circles under almost-black eyes, the noise of screeching tires in the middle of the night, a tall stature adorned in all-black attire, ghosts of bruises staining calloused skin green, a scuffed zippo lighter in a pack of marlboros containing only one cigarette, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a sly grin under stormy dark eyes, a sniper on the roof of a deserted building, the roar of a car engine, & clenched, white-knuckled fists.

nicknames. kal.

date of birth. november third.

gender. cis male.

pronouns. he + him.

birthplace. manhattan, nyc.

orientation. bisexual + aromantic.

education. bachelor of music degree obtained from manhattan school of music.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, turkish, spanish, & french.

negative traits. haughty, abrasive, enigmatic, cynical, temperamental, calculating, hedonistic, distant, sarcastic, & volatile.

positive traits. adept, diligent, charming, resilient, candid, adept, charming, audacious, determined, & resourceful.

strengths. efficient, energetic, self-confident, strong-willed, strategic thinker, charismatic, & inspiring.

weaknesses. stubborn, dominant, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, poor handling of emotions, cold, & ruthless.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, lock-picking, carjacking, hand-to-hand combat, automobile knowledge, tracking people down, & excellent problem-solving abilities.

physiology. dark brown eyes. dark brown hair. six feet, one inch tall. of a lean, broad stature with a straight posture and evident height. has a few silvery scars littered across his skin. has a few tattoos in a few less visible places. is ambidextrous.

psychology. scorpio zodiac. water element. slytherin house. entj-a. chaotic neutral. type eight enneagram. choleric temperament. interpersonal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, prescription drugs, cocaine, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and insomnia. his vices are lust, wrath and pride. his virtues are ... honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers : infidelity, divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, cancer, death, car crash, funeral, blood, murder, suicide mention, gun mention, & various references to death and murder.

a synopsis. ah, here he is—my tol, troubled, grouchy son : ' ) don't u just adore ur resident trashy, snarky, but precious and sad fuckboi muse? bc i know I DO! anyways, before i digress, i'll cut to the chase. so, waaay before he blessed the universe with his presence, his mother ( who was originally from turkey ) moved to the states where she met one alexander hale. you can probably guess the rest: the pair married, they had children, everything seemed to be going swimmingly, yada yada. here’s a lil background: the hale family—a line of manhattan-born businessmen / lawyers / diplomats etc. they're dripping in wealth, not always as squeaky clean as they portray themselves as to be. kaleb’s dad was a douche, expected both of his sons to follow in his shadow and become lawyers, ran around behind his wife's back: the whole shoot and shebang of a classic a-hole. he always kind of ignored kaleb in favour of his eldest son joshua so kaleb kinda became hard-hearted and resentful due to the lack of his father's attention. skip a few years and he spied his dad cheating on his mother with his secretary though he refused to tell another soul for fear of any potential backlash. soon enough, his mother found this out for herself, their argument ruined his thirteenth birthday party then they divorced soon after. his mother fell off the wagon, became terminally ill—all while his father was remarrying and expecting a daughter with his secretary. it was a hella rough two years for kaleb. it got even worse. eventually, his mother passed away and his step-mother divorced his father to breeze off into the sunset with her new lover; leaving her daughter with her piss-poor excuse of a dad. at this point, kaleb was lonely and angry but adopted the role of his step-sister's protector, shielding her from their father's increasing substance abuse induced violence. just before his seventeenth birthday, his father died in a car crash. of course, he didn't entirely mourn the loss. almost immediately, he and his younger sister moved in with their elder brother who helped kaleb get into university. with dear ole dad out of the picture, he could finally pursue his interest and flair for music. after he graduated, he moved to santa ysabel with his brother and brother's family. in the beginning, things were going fine. yeah, sure, he was struggling for work and felt bad that his brother had to keep him afloat. normal stuff. then, one day, things quickly turned sour in his world. [ TRIGGER FOR GORE, BLOOD, SUICIDE MENTION, GUN MENTION, MURDER, DEATH ] he’d came home to find the locks on the doors busted, advancing into the house carefully only to find his brother’s lifeless corpse crumbled on the kitchen tiles: his throat and wrists slashed, posed as a suicide. of course, kaleb knew better. he knew his brother; knew he would never leave him or his family. upon further inspection of the house, he’d discovered the body of his wife upstairs: a bullet hole between her eyes. [ TRIGGER OVER ] the whole ordeal was enough to turn his stomach but once the sickness had subsided, all kaleb felt was a strong thirst for blood. sure, it was pretty damn stupid to try and seek revenge or whatnot ... but kaleb had always been one to let his heart guide his brain. anyways, time skip now to the moment he’d uncovered his brother’s entanglement with some dodgy loan shark, drug dealing criminals who were responsible for his murder. in the end, he’d hunted them down and eradicated them one by one, over a span of weeks. at first, he hated himself and what his desire for vengeance had turned him into but he kept going until he’d got them all: until he’d grown numb. truthfully, how he wound up taking lives for a living is beyond him. he woke up one day, found himself hired by some big-wig businessman who wanted rid of his business partner and et voilà, he was tangled up in the dark side of existence. i mean, was he blackmailed into doing his first paid hit? yes. but who can blame him? especially when they claimed to have intel regarding the sudden demise of a prominent figure in the criminal underbelly of the city, a.k.a his brother’s killer. it was a risk kaleb simply couldn’t take. he prefers to keep himself anonymous, hidden behind shadows, unsuspecting. death has become a job. nothing more. nothing less. it’s simply the algorithm of his existence: receive a dossier, take care of the target, get paid a hefty lump sum. and all just for enacting a stranger’s revenge in the blood of another. he moves like a deadly phantom, his footsteps light as a feather, whipping through the night like a bullet through a target’s skull. sartre claims that hell is other people. and if you were to stare into kaleb’s eyes—eyes eerily similar to having been cut from coal—you might just see hell and everyone in it staring right back at you. as nietzsche wrote: “ he who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. ”

random extras.

he has a lot of small scars over his body, most of which he can’t account for or has forgotten about.

owns and drives a black 1969 boss 429 mustang which he loves arguably more than he loves himself.

speaking of, he actually is full of self-hatred so don’t let the haughtiness fool you.

trusts nobody but himself and is loyal to nobody but himself.

has a lot of anger issues so often ends up taking part in underground fights.

he rates around a solid three on the kinsey scale.

is a distant person; closed-off emotionally and prefers to keep himself to himself.

when it comes to whether or not he is morally decent or an extremely bad person, he is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

he isn’t heartless but he isn’t exactly compassionate either.

kind of shady but knows how to pass himself as charming.

has been thru sum shit n seen sum shit so he’s v messed up inside.

though he does have a soft spot for animals and children.

his marksmanship is impeccable.

he’s naturally gifted with firearms and his shot is always on point.

dark eyes and bruised knuckles are his ultimate aesthetic tbh.

actually really appreciates classical music, though he’ll never tell. blame it on his piano lessons from childhood.

speaking of piano, he’s low key gifted at playing although he rarely does these days.

has a very short fuse and can lose his temper quite easily.

he has a good heart and good intentions when it comes to those he actually cares about although he’ll never let this show.

favourite coping mechanism? isolation.

a bit of a lone wolf. he keeps people at arm’s length but acts in a way where people are under the illusion he’s their friend.

basically the tall, dark and handsome trope: ( most of the tall, dark and handsome men display aloof, cold and distant personality but they do have a gentle and caring side. )

is a little snarky and grumpy but if you manage to break this exterior, you’ll find he’s quite witty and easy going.

he got into fighting at a young age. it was the only way to try and learn how to defend himself against his father.

sleep?? he doesn’t know her.

tends to repress his emotions until he explodes.

healthy coping mechanisms?? he doesn’t know them either.

is prone to pushing the self destruct button.

you can find a pinterest board for him by clicking anywhere here.

#hey hi hello happy to be here !!!#this is my son kal n he's ... A LOT.#show this some luv n i'll come atcha for plots !!!#indulgence.intro

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phantom-god-suki · 4 years

Text

Precautionary Elegance

Chatter filled the ballroom as more people arrived at the gathering. Every noble in Nightmare was there to either socialize in leisure or with hopes of improving their social image. The elegant dress you were wearing was a bit too pricey for your liking, but at least it accentuated your curves quite nicely. Kaim had to drag you around town all day to find ‘the perfect dress’ for the occasion. On top of that, you were forced to wear this damned corset that made breathing unbearable. However, beauty is pain so you supposed it was worth it. As you observe the ballroom, your eyes unconsciously trailed to the sunshine haired outcast that everyone seems to alienate.

You smile as you see him happily chatting to the lord of the Angels and King, Lucia. After repeating the same cycle for an eternity, he was finally able to liberate you both from the curse. Now that you have your memories back from other timelines, you felt just a tad bit closer to him. No matter how much you tried to be with him though, he always pushed you away. You feel a presence behind you and turn around.

“You will age faster if you keep glaring like that.” A green demon chuckles as he approaches.

“You don't say. Why are you even here Mefy?” You suck your teeth and roll your eyes at him.

“Fine by me hag but if you get old then how am I going to blame you for my pranks?” Mefy muses.

“Oh please. I’ll be a cool granny. Don't you ever think I can't keep up with you. Plus if I'm older than you, you'll have to listen to me for once.” As you were chatting with your frenemy you felt a pair of eyes on you. Mefy notices this and leans into your ear.

“Wanna make your crush jealous?” He whispers.

“You know this won't work...” You lean in and whisper back. ��He said he loves me but lately he has been avoiding me.”

“...There's a word for that you know.” Mefy smirks.

“Don't you dare say it!” You hit him playfully.

“There might be a way for you to… motivate him” You can see the gears turning in his head as a sly smirk spreads across his face. You can guess what he was planning but was it fair to Lucas? What if he didn’t want you? Doubts in your head started swallowing you.

“Sulking about it wont do you any good. You have to take a risk at some point.” You can tell he was getting impatient.

“You're planning something, aren't you?”

“Always. Now come on.” He giggles as he grabs your hand and drags you to the balcony away from prying eyes, especially Lucas’.

The cool evening air grazed your skin as you stepped onto the balcony. It was nice to take a breather from over ambitious nobles and all the court drama for a while. The balcony reminded you of some unpleasant memories but you decided to stay on point.

“Ok what's up Mefy? Why did you drag me all the way here?” You said.

Mefy takes out a vile of potion from his many hidden pockets. It was kind of ridiculous how many items he had with him at all times. It's like he had a warehouse in his pockets but considering his magical abilities it might not be far from the truth.

“See this thing? It's a love potion.” He smirks.

“Love… potion…?” You give him a look of suspicion.

“What's with that look? You don't trust me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice.

“Fuck no.”

“Aww come on. Have I ever lied to you?” He says as you remember when he used you in alternate timelines.

“Literally all the time but okay. Ugh just give me this ‘love potion’.”

“Sure. But you owe me a BIG favor, got it?” Mefy skips away and you sigh, wondering if this was a good idea or not.

You had a basic understanding of potions from living in Nightmare for a while and all your alternate memories. They’re not any different from drugs in the human world. You hid the vial of potion in your sleeve before you entered the ballroom. What you are about to do is really not fair and Lucas does deserve better but so do you. You were sick of being pushed away and not getting any answers from him. Desperate times require desperate measures.

You walk to the drink fountain and grab two drinks for Lucas and yourself. You carefully pour the liquid into Lucas’ drink. You were scared for a moment that the contents in the vile would change the color of the wine but luckily that didn't happen. With both drinks in your hand you seek out Lucas. You find him at the food table eating a cupcake.

“Hey Lucas,” You approach him like a predator stalks her unsuspecting prey. “I got you a drink.” You smile sweetly.

“Oh thank you Y/N.” He smiles forcefully. You're not sure if it's that he is tired or pissed that you were with Mefy a couple moments ago. He tends to get awfully protective of you whenever you get close to Mefy or Ricardo. And you can understand why though.

“Ever since you became the advisor I never got a chance to talk to you. I missed you a lot you know.”

“I'm sorry it's been really stressful lately. Not all nobles are happy with the decisions that Lucia made.” He says as he takes a sip. Bingo. You get a surge of arousal just by looking at his neck and collarbones. He was a model in your eyes.

“Y/N?” His question snaps you back to reality.

“Sorry, I couldn't hear that part.” You answer sheepishly.

“I was just saying if we could go somewhere else. It's really stuffy here.”

With that you started following Lucas through many many identicals hallways the castle had. You reached out and grabbed his hand nonchalantly.

“So where are we heading?” You can a sharp inhale escape from Lucas’ mouth.

“Planetarium. So we could get a breather. I'm so sick of the nobles but don't tell them that” He winks.

The planetarium was huge. In fact, huge was an understatement. Above you was a dome shaped glass that made the stars seem bigger than they actually are. By the time you arrive you can hear the subtle huffing coming from Lucas. You ignore it and stare up at the sky.

“They are beautiful.” You say looking up at the constellations.

“Yes… they are..” He replies while looking at you. Lucas was really warm. He had a cute blush on his face already. The potion was working wonderfully.

“Did I take your breath away Lucas? You are blushing” You nudge his side smirk.

“O-oh it’s just a little warm in here that's all haha.” He shyly averts his gaze.

Both of you sit at the bench in the planetarium and talk about your daily lives as if nothing was wrong. You decide to make a move and scoot a little closer to him until you can feel his warmth but he moves away. You get closer again and he moves away once again until he has nowhere else to move on the bench.

You put your arms around his shoulders.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing?” He whimpers pathetically. You lean to his ear and whisper.

“I missed you Lucas. You never pay visits anymore.”

“I-Im sorry it's just Lucia and the nobles-” He shudders and takes a sharp breath as you lick his ear.

“That's no excuse Lucas~” You got him where you wanted. It's like he was under your love spell. Well he is under the potions influence literally. You sit on his lap so he can't escape. Not this time. The games end tonight whether it ends in your favor or not.

Lucas wraps his arms around you. Poor Lucas you thought. It was bitchy of you to do this but the look on his face was delicious. Droopy eyes, face red as a tomato, winded. You barely touched him and he was wrecked already.

“Do you love me Lucas?” You whisper against his lips.

“I do… more than anything…” The way he was rocking his hips sent shivers up your spine. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Him between your legs… where he belonged.

“Prove it baby…” You murmured. His eyes were glossed with a dark, desperate and lustrous look. He was very motivated as Mefy would say. Even though there was no one but you in the planetarium, this was a public space.

‘What if someone walks in on you. Maybe this wasn't the right time-’ He worried to himself.

His thought process comes to a halt when you roughly grab his hair and slammed your lips against his. You can feel a deep shiver run through him. The taste of his lips were sweet probably by the cupcake he was sampling earlier. He let out soft whimpers and pulled your body closer to him as he was easing up. If only he was inside of you… You started removing his clothes and revealed his pale skin.

“W-Wait! What if someone hears-”

“Then we'll just have to be really quiet.” You smile at him. “Let me help you”

You got up from Lucas’ lap and easily stripped of your evening gown to reveal lacy lingerie. Lucas gasps and covers his face.

“Lucas… I want you to look at me…” With that you started touching yourself sensually and swaying your body to an imaginary song. Lucas was looking at you from the gap between his fingers. The damn corset was limiting your movements to an extent but it wasn’t so bad. You grab the strap of your bra and let it slide over your shoulders. You then toss the undergarment onto the ground in a whimsical manner. His eyes wander around your body before fixating on your chest. “Oops.” you say cheekily as if you accidentally dropped your bra. In a single gracious movement, you bend over, pretending to pick up your bra. You can feel his gaze on your ass intensify as you begin to peel off your panties in front of him and show how excited he made you. It seemed like Lucas forgot how to breathe after seeing your little stunt. You sit on his lap again and grind yourself against his thigh.

“This is what you do to me Lucas...” You moan. With shaky hands he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. It's like you were made out of glass and he was afraid of breaking you. You grab his hands and put them on your breast.

“Touch me…” You say before resuming the kiss. He was a lot more eager to please you. Lucas started massaging your soft breasts while kissing you hungrily. You quickly unzip his pants and pull down his underwear to reveal his erection. Just looking at it his member makes your mouth water. A slight glistening on the tip of his cock suggests how aroused he already is. When you grab it and give it a jerk, Lucas can't help but moan loudly against your lips. You break the kiss.

“Ah ah ah Lucas... You need to be quiet or we'll get caught...” You tease him.

“It feels s-so good.. I can't stop it…” He stutters softly.

“Well I did say I would help you…” Lucas squealed in shock when you stuff your panties in his mouth. The taste of your juices spread on his tongue and muffled moans emerged from his throat as his lips pursed over your panties. You resumed stroking his manhood as Lucas threw his head back in pleasure and exposed his neck. It was too tempting not to mark him like this. You pepper his neck with kisses before focusing on a certain area to mark. His body convulsed in pain and pleasure when you sank your teeth into his soft flesh. You tasted a slight tang of iron as you broke the skin. His cock started tensing up in your grip signaling his inevitable release. Lucas trembled when his orgasm hit him like a train. He spurts his hot load all over your chest and corset. You remove your panties from his mouth so he could breathe easier. The advisor took a big gulp of air as he tried to compose himself. You then bring your fingers to your lips and taste him while looking intensely at Lucas.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself” You teased.

“Y/N… why..?” He whimpered shakily. “Of all of them… why me..?” Tears welled in his eyes. The sound of his sorrowing echoed through the planetarium's walls. Your blood ran cold for a second. What was he referring to? Does he hate you now?

“L-Lucas?”

“I'm not like you!.. I'm not even like them. All my life, I’ve had a single purpose. To save Nightmare...I wasn't meant to have you...” He says while breaking down. You breathe a sigh of relief while tears of sorrow run down his cheeks.

Lucas tensed up when you embraced him. “I know but.. It's not like that anymore. We saved this world. Together. Now we can be free.” You kiss his tears then softly kiss his lips. This kiss was more passionate than all the rest. You left little pecks on his lips before slipping in your tongue. He kisses you back almost immediately while his hands explore every crevice of your body.

“Lucas please… I want you in me…” You whimpered. He takes you by surprise when he lifts your hips and slams you down his cock, filing you to the hilt, stretching you. Lucas waited for you to get adjusted to his girth for a moment. “God you feel amazing… so warm and tight... “ Lucas growls against your ear.

After getting used to his size you started grinding your hips against his. Lucas was still somewhat sensitive from his previous orgasm but he didnt care. Pleasure was consuming his mind, throwing all the reason from the window. Both of you were trying to hold back your moans but with each thrust it was getting more difficult. Then suddenly you found your back on the bench. Lucas was on top of you, looking at you with an intense expression.

“Even though I still feel like I don’t deserve you, I am going to cherish you with all of my heart.” He softly smiles and kisses your cheek before starting to move. As soon as he thrusts inside, you wrap your arms around his body and dig your nails into his back.

“Fuck...Lucas...your huge cock feels so good inside of my tight pussy.” Lucas clenches his teeth and starts to move faster. He leans down to suck on your nipples. He licks one nipple while flicking the other one with his fingers.

“Princess… You are doing so great… I love you so much.” He moves faster while lifting up his head to place soft kisses on your neck and lets out small moans. You shiver every time you hear his beautiful moans on your body. It didn't take long for you to reach the edge of climax.

“Lucas...please...more. I’m gonna cum.” You feel drool running down your cheek. Lucas licks your cheek and leans into your ear.

“Come for me then.” You whimper and melt with his words. You can’t hold back anymore and cum. His pace became erratic and you could hear the low growls in his throat become louder and louder. He is about to pull out but you lock your legs around him and pull him closer gently.

“It’s okay Lucas...You can come inside.” He smiles and lets out a loud groan before releasing inside of you. He collapses on top of you and hugs your shaking body.

“Y/N...Are you alright? Are you hurting anywhere? ” Lucas breathes into your neck and leaves a light kiss.

“I… I’m okay Lucas. I love you. Please never say that you don't deserve me.” You lean into Lucas’ head and stroke his hair.

“Alright Y/N. Thank you so much for accepting me… I love you so much.” You can hear a little sniffle as he nods his head. “Can you stand up? Let me help you.”

“I can stand but i don’t think I can walk properly after such a performance.” Lucas blushes at your words and helps you stand. He grabs your dress and helps you put it on. He then sits you down while he gets dressed.

“You're so handsome… It makes me want seconds~” You smirk as you stand up by yourself.

“Just wait till I get you in bed then. I won't be holding back.” He chuckles as you reach over and smack his ass. His back jolts up and he turns to get revenge but you are already wobbling away. He smiles and walks slowly behind you to admire the stars for just a little longer. You make your way back to the hall and feel an arm wrap around you. You look to see Lucas smiling softly at you. You both enter the hall holding each other. You look around before seeing Mefy at the drink table sipping wine. He spots you and smirks while lifting his glass. You chuckle while Lucas looks at you genuinely confused.

“What is up with that little gremlin?” He squint his eyes and whispers to you.

“Ahh nothing honey, he's just being dumb~” You laugh his comment off.

“What else is new.” Lucas rolls his eyes while grabbing you closer and pulling you in for another kiss before saying.

“I can't wait for tonight.”

#nightmare harem

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cainfm · 4 years

Text

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened.

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort.

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them.

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out.

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc.

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me.

#radintro #cult tw #heroin tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #trauma tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #manipulation tw #abuse tw #i think thts all ...

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peach-mangos · 4 years

Text

New Year’s Eve

☾ yoo kihyun/im changkyun ☾ holiday fluff/fluff/humor/meet cute/neighbors au...aka the changki new year’s eve au no one asked for lmao ☾ 2.6k ☾ can also read here

“What do you want?”

“Well good morning sunshine—at least you’re up, kind of surprised I must say” Jooheon chuckles on the other side of the line.

“Yeah well—pretty hard to get any sleep when the whole population on this damn apartment hall is up and about causing a ruckus” Changkyun grumbles, and just as he throws open his apartment door, a group of teenage kids zoom past him blowing party horns and leaving in their wake a trail of party tinsel.

“Kyunnie, it’s New Year’s Eve, lighten up. Of course people are excited and happy, they’re celebrating the end of a long ass exhausting year, new beginnings are always welcomed” Jooheon tells him, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

He heads back into his apartment to retrieve a trash bag from his kitchen drawer and makes his way out once again.

“You know, in my opinion—every day is an opportunity for a new beginning—don’t understand why everyone and their damn mother lose their shit over this New Year bullshit”

“You know, you used to love celebrating New Year’s Eve until—”

“Whatever, I’m taking down all these damn decorations” Changkyun says cutting off his friend, “the regulations of our apartment complex doesn’t allow them for safety purposes”

“Dude” Jooheon laughs, “isn’t that a little too much?”

“I’m sorry, was there a reason for this call?” Changkyun asks shoving his cellphone between his ear and shoulder while trying to hold open a trash bag in one hand and ripping off “Happy New Year” decorations off the hallway walls with the other.

“Right, get showered, get dressed—we are going out tonight”

“Like hell we are” Changkyun chuckles bitterly and continues making his way down the hall ripping off decorations with a fiery purpose.

“Listen man, I know it’s been hard for you to celebrate New Year’s ever since Soobin—but damn it, we are doing something this year. We all let it slide last year because it was still pretty fresh, but not this year. You are not gonna sit in that apartment in your old man flannel pajamas and greet the year alone and bitter”

“Are you done?” Changkyun asks making his way towards the elevator.

“Yes” Jooheon concedes harrumphing at his friend.

With that, Chankgyun hangs up on his best friend and tries to close off the gate to the elevator.

“HOLD THE ELEVATOR PLEASE!” someone yells, and usually—well, usually Changkyun isn’t one to be an asshole— but he really isn’t in the mood to share an awkward elevator ride with some random stranger at the moment. So instead of holding the gate open as the unsuspecting stranger had asked, Changkyun rushes to close it.

As his crummy luck would have it though, the trash bag full of holiday decorations he was on his way to get rid of gets stuck between the gate, giving the stranger just enough time to reach the elevator.

“I know you heard me” the guy accuses, narrowing his eyes at Changkyun.

“Oh, sorry , I’m a little hard of hearing” Changkyun lies adjusting his hoodie and begrudgingly making space for the man to get in. He hates the fact that he has to do a double take because —upon closer inspection—his new elevator companion is quite the looker. Dressed to the nines beneath his cream colored winter coat in a silky red button up dress shirt buttoned down all the way to the center of his chest, nice black crispy ironed dress pants accompanied by shiny polished black dress shoes and hair slicked back.

“Are you a little blind as well, you literally saw me rushing towards you”

I wish, Changkyun thinks, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you’re kind of loud for such a small person” he muses, making the tiny handsome man blush.

“And you’re a little bit of a dick, but that’s none of my business, is it? Could you press the floor button now, please?”

Laughing at how easy it had been to ruffle the guys’ feathers, Changkyun obediently moves over and carries on with pressing the button to the apartment complex’s lobby.

Not even a minute into the elevator ride and the damn metal contraption begins to make a startling noise followed by staggering movements that cause both men to topple forwards in loss of balance.

“The hell was that?” the stranger asks, eyes wide and panicked.

“Think the elevator broke, genius” Changkyun sighs leaning against the metal wall.

“Broke? BROKE?!” Mr. Slicked Back hair wails, “it can’t be broke, I’m going to be late for work? Isn’t there an emergency button or something ?” he asks looking around franticly for the emergency button. He finds it behind a small door next to the button selection also containing a red emergency phone. “Hello, this is Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B, can someone help us?”

Changkyun chuckles because of course, he’s the new guy that moved into 3B.

“Hey, 3B—phone doesn’t work, genius. Can’t you see it’s not even connected?” Changkyun tells him rolling his eyes.

“Well, do something, don’t just stand there!” 3B wails slamming back the phone into place.

“This happens every other week dude, they’ll get us out eventually” Changkyun shrugs, and the guy, Kihyun visibly deflates.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” he asks defeatedly.

“Could be a couple of hours, to be honest”

Kihyun staggers back into the opposite metal wall and groans, “couple of hours?” he whispers in disbelief. He runs a hand through his hair and gasps, as he looks up he notices an opening and walks over to slap Changkyun on the chest.

“Look, up there, there’s an escape door—you seem stronger I’m not even going to lie, and my shoulders are much narrower than yours—think you could maybe lift me up?” Kihyun asks.

“First of all, ow—your rings, asshole” Changkyun whines rubbing at his chest, “Second, I mean I guess I could, but that thing looks like it’s bolted shut man”

“Doesn’t hurt to try” Kihyun tells him already shrugging off his coat, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

“This job so damn important you’re willing to squeeze out of an escape door in an old and faulty elevator?” Changkyun asks groaning as he awkwardly tries to lift Kihyun up. He isn’t that much taller than the guy, he doubts he’ll be able to reach the trap door even with Changkyun lifting him.

As Kihyun struggles to make his hands reach the ceiling, something slips out from around his neck and out of his shirt slapping Changkyun in the face.

“You’re a groupie ?” Changkyun asks, narrowing his eyes at the shiny VIP pass, voice full of judgement.

Kihyun freezes in his arms.

“Put. Me. Down” he bites out.

Changkyun is quick to do as he’s told and let’s Kihyun slide down and out of his arms.

Once his feet are back on the floor, Kihyun immediately walks away as far away as possible from Changkyun, hiding his VIP pass and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just wondered” Changkyun tells him truthfully.

“Why the hell do you have a trash bag full of party decorations?” Kihyun asks instead.

“Took them down from our hallway, we aren’t allowed to hang decorations like that. It’s against the regulations of the complex” Changkyun tells him as a matter of fact.

“Why is that any of your concern? Why is it up to you to police the way people enjoy their holiday? God, of course I get stuck in an elevator with the goddamn grinch of the apartment complex. Who hurt you dude?”

“Ex fiancé” Changkyun tells him, a sad smile on his lips, “two years ago, to the day, actually. Cheated on me the night of our engagement party with who I thought was one of my best friends”

“Well fuck” Kihyun groans blowing out an awkward breath and sits down on the little wooden bench lining one of the walls of the elevator. “Fuck, I’m sorry man—“

“It’s alright, it’s whatever now, you know? But yeah, you’re right. Did turn me into a bit of a grinch, which kinda sucks because I used to love celebrating New Year’s with my best friends” Changkyun confesses.

“I never understood the concept of cheating” Kihyun sighs, “if you feel like you no longer have strong feelings for the person you’re with, just tell them and set them free. Don’t hurt them and waste their time. It’s selfish and plain old mean” he tells him.

“Sounds like you have strong opinions on the subject as well then” Changkyun muses.

Kihyun smiles and stands up.

“You said it’d be a couple of hours right? Well then, I guess we’ll just have to have a party of our own. Rediscover your love for the New Year’s celebration. Come on, we’ve got decorations “ Kihyun says coming over to pull out the holiday decorations trash bag from his fingers.

“But the—” and the withering look Kihyun levels him with has Changkyun shutting up immediately and pliantly handing over the bag and it’s contents.

“Come on grumpy, start putting these banners up” Kihyun demands shoving an array of banners onto his arms. He then rummages through the bag and manages to find a pair of party hats. Making a small noise of triumph, he walks over to strap the red one on Changkyun, smiling when it earns him an eye roll.

“You are something else, 3B”

In comfortable companionship, both men decorate the elevator to their best ability with the few decorations they have, Kihyun occasionally humming random tunes.

“So what do you do for a living?” Kihyun asks as he strings tinsel around.

“I’m a comic book illustrator”

“Oh, is that so? Draw something for me then” Kihyun demands, pulling out a pen and paper pad from his bag, and Changkyun has begun to realize Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B is quite the demanding fella.

“You’re so bossy” Changkyun says with a chuckle, he takes the man’s pen and pad nonetheless and begins to draw. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Well for starters, I’m not a groupie” Kihyun says pointedly. “I’m a singer, well back up singer right now. It’s why I have this pass, I’m supposed to be performing at the ball drop on New Year’s Eve in Times Square” he sighs sadly.

“Sing something for me then, so I can concentrate on your drawing” Changkyun laughs and Kihyun shakes his head furiously.

“No way man, maybe if we get out of this damn elevator you can come watch me perform instead”

Changkyun shoots Kihyun a look and both burst out in laughter.

They carry on talking for hours about the randomest things. From their earliest childhood memories to likes and dislikes to the reasons why they’re both in New York.

“Are we ever gonna get out of here?” Kihyun sighs defeatedly, “not that you aren’t wonderful company, but I’ve already missed the rehearsal. I’m sure it’s nearing ten p. m, god, I’m really going to miss my chance to perform at Times Square” he laments.

“I’m sorry dude—but hey, look we still have time before you have to go on, you said your performance is at 11:30, right? Perhaps by then” Kihyun gives Changkyun a, ‘thanks for trying’ look and smiles.

“You done with that drawing then?” Kihyun asks and Changkyun laughs nodding his head.

“Here, happy New Year’s” Changkyun laughs handing Kihyun his illustration of him frantically yelling for help earlier in the elevator clutching onto the emergency phone for dear life.

“You are insufferable, I hope you know” Kihyun laughs taking the drawing from his hands. “But you’re actually pretty good, this is so intricate, how do you do that?” he says voice full of awe.

Changkyun just shrugs rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“We’re supposed to be having a party” Kihyun comments, then stands up and begins to narrate his movements.

“The handsome young singer scanned the room, when suddenly, his eyes made contact with another handsome young man”

Changkyun tolled his eyes but stood up.

“They stared at each other for a moment, tentatively smiling at one another” at this point Kihyun shoots Changkyun a shu smile and he can’t help but birst out into a fit of laughter.

“Tentatively!” Kihyun exclaims laughing as well.

“Okay, okay—how about now?” Changkyun asks trying his best at a tentative smile.

“Eh, guess it’ll do” Kihyun teases. “We finally cross the room, just as everyone starts to count down…” Kihyun comes closer to Changkyun, smiling and begins to count. “Ten, nine, eight, seven” Kihyun’s words are barely above a whisper now, and Changkyun feels likes his face is on fire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or where to look, so he settles for Kihyun’s eyes, which—kind of a mistake. A feeling of being able to lose himself in that pair of warm brown eyes settles over him and he really thinks, fuck it, it’s the New Year. If he were to kiss this man right here, it would be a perfect end to the year. “Six, five, four, three, two—”

Just as Kihyun is about to close the distance between them, the elevator shakes once again throwing both men backwards as it descends properly once again.

Both men clear their throats once the doors to the elevator open, and a group of tenants cheer.

“See, told you I’d get it fixed—and it only took what, leight hours” their landlord cheers, and several tenants erupt in a chorus of annoyed ‘shut ups’ and ‘took you long enoughs’.

“Oh my god, I can still make it, if I hurry”

“Then you should probably head out” Changkyun tells Kihyun clearing his throat.

“I uh—yeah, I’ll see you around. Happy New Year” Kihyun tells him as he rushes out the hallway.

“Yeah. See you around” Changkyun sighs making his way back to the elevator. “Hold that for me will you Mrs. Jensen”

And as Changkyun makes his way back into that damned elevator he notices a rubber pink balance bracelet on the ground.

Fuck.

He picks it up and rushes out of the elevator once more irritating a few dozen of his neighbors in the process and runs out hoping he can make it to Kihyun in time.

Turns out, he does make it to Times Square in time, he barely catches Kihyun on his way up the stage.

“HEY! 3B!” he exclaims.

Startled, Kihyun turns around, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent gasp.

“You’re—what? What are you doing here?” Kihyun asks.

“I uh—well I found this, figured it might be yours. I don’t know” Changkyun laughs.

“How did you even get back here?”

“Security is actually so bad? They think I’m the band’s drummer” Changkyun laughs.

“You came all the way out here—in your pajamas, I might add—to hand me my bracelet?”

“It says it’s for balance, didn’t want you out there performing without it. And who knows, maybe it’s good luck. What do I know?” Changkyun mumbles, now blushing slightly.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you” Kihyun laughs taking the bracelet from Changkyun’s hands.

And he’s not sure what gives him the courage to do what he does next, but “ you also forgot this in the elevator,” he says. In one swift movement, he leans up to press a kiss to Kihyun’s lips, pulling him in by his dress pants belt loops. It takes Kihyun about 0.01 seconds to respond, clutching fiercely only the fabric of Changkyun’s hoodie.

“I’m—yeah okay, thanks for that” Kihyun says in a bit of a daze once he’s pulled away, “I’m glad you remembered that” he says clearing his throat.

Changkyun shoots him a million wat smile and presses a light peck to his lips once more.

“Go knock them dead, tonight, I’m your groupie” Changkyun jokes.

“Go!” Kihyun says laughing heartily and Changkyun supposes that maybe new beginnings really are welcomed.

#monsta x fic #changki fic #monsta x #changki #mine: fic #mine: changki fic #yoooo first mx fic #im so happy

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moonlifter-archive · 5 years

Note

what’s a weird headcanon you have for each of your muses?

im not sure if these are necessarily ‘weird’, but here’s some headcanons -

∗ aedwen recently obtained something called an alexastone, an enchanted crystal capable of limited speech and recording short snippets for messages and such. before leaving for the east, she recorded a small sample of herself playing her harp, and she’ll set it on a loop whenever she finds herself in need of focus or is particularly homesick.

∗ in addition to being a skilled mender of healing magicks, hally is also quite adept with needle and thread. she sews most of her and her children’s clothing by hand, something sunnild adores and valbrandr hates (they’re too itchy, he says).

∗ m’khena, in her near year of ‘retirement’, has picked up her crafts again -- something provoked by suns spent idle as she recovered from losing her arm. it was difficult at first, trying to whittle with one hand, but she’s grown practiced, m’rhos ( @mrhos-xiv ) has also fashioned a workspace that allows her to clamp whatever material she’s working with down, so that she can focus on finer details.

∗ zahn, in her free time, makes occasional trips to the house in shirogane that z’khelbasi tends to. the pair are long-time friends and confidants for one another, having been rescued by upa from the same unfortunate circumstances some turns ago.

∗ lehko’a walks with a cane to support his terrible limp when not under the scrutiny of the public eye. not even ghoa ( @jaliqai-and-company ) has seen him use it -- mainly because he does not want to cause the woman further worry on his behalf. but if he is home alone, he uses it to get around as it makes it much easier on the man.

∗ uhlan’a has a total of eight beads in his braid, one for each year he’s gone to the uhlan tree and found the ‘gifts’ his ‘mother’s given him. little does he know they’re actually offerings made by his biological aunt, zija ( @gyrabanian ) as penance for her leaving him there as an infant.

∗ z’khelbasi has kept most of the earnings she receives and sends it back to her younger siblings who live in limsa lominsa. one day, she hopes to see them east so that they might reside with her once more after their long separation, but the two have been a hard sell on leaving their la noscean homeland.

∗ upa has made a game of startling wyra whenever her wife is walking about in the wood. upa will follow her for a time, silent as a mouse even with all her baubles and strings of decorative jewelry, before springing upon the unsuspecting keeper. she always gets quite a laugh from wyra’s expression of surprise and how quickly it turns to stern bewilderment. zulah has joined in on this trickster behaviour of her mother’s as well.

#ask #aedwen morning #halldora voss #zahn xetho #lehko'a nhali #uhlan'a ahwari #z'khelbasi vuhna #upa zuvhe #sunnild voss #valbrandr voss #m'rhos tia #ghoa mankhad #zija xetho #wyra nimh #zulah zuvhe #thank you!#the-hawkeyes

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 6 years

Text

No More Running

To my CSSS giftee @word-bug, it has been a pleasure chit chatting with you over this holiday season! Here is your present, a little angst, a little mutual pining, a little smut, and a ton of fluff. I hope you enjoy it! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

This is a fic based on the prompt, “you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas” - from this post: http://nadiahilker.tumblr.com/post/133627477715/im-always-a-slut-for-a-christmas-au-i-know-we

Beta’d by the ever lovely @like-waves-on-the-beach Thanks for the time you gave me, on Christmas Eve morning no less, to beta for me.

8.2k ao3 ffnet

“Merry Christmas, Swan! What’s up?” Killian answered his phone with a silly smile; the same silly smile that always came across his face when his best friend was on his mind.

“Still ever the jolly little elf, aren’t ya,” Emma deadpanned.

“Nothing little about me, Swan, but yes, I am quite jolly.”

“Alright, alright, enough of that. I’ll be off around five, are we still on for tonight?”

If possible, his smile grew wider at the hopeful tone in her voice. “Of course, what do you have in mind?”

“You could come over to my place, we could get chinese and watch a movie?”

“It’s Christmas Eve, eve, Swan-”

“That’s not even a thing, Killian.”

Killian could practically hear the eye roll through the phone. “It is so, and there is much to do on this Christmas Eve, eve; it’s a Saturday evening. The town Christmas parade is tonight, the Irish Rose is having an all night Christmas party, drinks are half price. The Nightmare Before Christmas is playing at the cinema-”

“What are you, the local entertainment section of the paper? I’m so burnt out after this week, I really want to keep it lowkey.”

“Well if you insist on staying in, it’s going to be at my place. You don’t even decorate, Scrooge.”

“I am not a scrooge! I just don’t like- I mean I don’t have time to- ugh, whatever. Not everyone likes it when Christmas throws up all over their house.”

“You’re right, not everyone enjoys it, you and Scrooge for example,” he laughed into the phone.

“Your place it is,” she acquiesced, knowing she really was a bit of a scrooge. But it wasn’t a totally unfounded reason for her lack of Christmas spirit. “I’ll pick up food on the way, pick your pleasure.”

“Well if it’s pleasure we’re talking about, I’ve a wholly different menu than anything you can pick up from restaurant, love,” he flirted.

“Oh my god, Killian. You are so shameless,” she chastised, silently praising the fact that blushing couldn’t be seen through the phone.

“You love it,” he taunted her. “Are you blushing yet?”

“What do you want for dinner,” Emma dodged his question.

“I’ll cook,” he answered, “see you tonight, Swan.”

“See ya,” she replied before disconnecting.

♥E&K♥

Tonight was the night, he was going to do it. His heart was suddenly beating a million miles a minute, and he was a little dizzy at just the thought of telling her. Bloody coward, he thought while scowling at himself in the mirror. He knew how he felt, he knew what he wanted, he knew what he needed to say. Just tell her you love her, you git, how hard could it be? he heard Liam’s voice in his head. Easier said than done, he challenged his mind’s conjuring of his deceased brother.

Running the towel over his freshly washed hair one last time, he hung up the towel then slipped a clean black v neck over his head.

When it came right down to it, he wasn’t afraid to just tell her. That would be the easy part. The hard part would be her reaction. Emma Swan, love of his life, and his best friend. Deer would have been a more accurate depiction than swan. Sure she was beautiful and graceful, like a swan, but damn if she wasn’t the most skittish woman he’d ever met in his life. The moment she felt trapped by feelings, she was off and running. He understood that for Emma, running was easiest, her whole life had been hard, and so he didn’t blame her for taking the easy way out when she could. He just hoped against hope that tonight would be the one time she might not run.

Killian was pulled from his ruminations when his doorbell rang. Deep breath, he told himself as he went to answer the door.

Deep breath, Emma told herself. She didn’t want to ruin a perfect Saturday evening by being uptight and stressed out. After the rough week she’d had, she was ready to hang with her best friend, and leave the stress behind. Exhaling, Emma pulled off her jacket, and beanie, then knocked on the door.

Holy hot hell, were the words that came to mind when Killian opened his door. Goddamn, he looks good.

“See something you like?” he smirked.

Emma rolled her eyes, “Who’re you trying to impress?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Killian mock bowed, extending his arm out to welcome her into his home.

“You would,” she scoffed, breezing past him in his too-tight black shirt and soft gray sweats. Good lord he smells heavenly, too. Emma slipped her boots off, dropped her jacket and beanie, then plopped down on his couch and watched as he went to go grab them a couple of drinks.

Why did her best friend have to be the best looking man on the face of planet Earth? Why did her best friend have to look like the perfect solution to a stressful week? If he was half as good as he boasted to be when teasing her, he could fuck away all her troubles, she just knew it. The only way he’d look better is if he wasn’t dressed at all, she mused, biting down on her lip. Why did she have to be in love with her best friend?

That last reflection jarred her out of her pleasurable thoughts. She thought she’d locked that shit up a long time ago. There was no way she could go down that road with Killian Jones. He was one of the few good thing she had going on in her life. She had an affinity for screwing up a good thing, if anyone knew that, it was her.

“I would pay a fair amount of money to know what is going on in that head of yours, Swan.”

Emma startled a little as he sat down right next to her. She hadn’t realized just how deeply she had fallen into her mind. “Just thinking about the shitty week I’ve had,” she lied.

“Huh, I’d have guessed you were thinking about how good my arse looked as I was bent over the fridge fetching us drinks.”

“Shut up!” Emma laughed backhanding his bicep. So solid, she thought.

“Why don’t you tell me about it,” he suggested, throwing his arm across the couch behind her head.

How did just the presence of one woman make his heart feel so combustible. She breezed past him through the open door smelling of sunflowers and honey. She wore nothing more than a thin cream colored sweater and black leggings, but she was a vision to him nonetheless. As he brought their sodas over to the couch, he took a moment to admire her as she stared off, deep in thought. Gods, she’s gorgeous.

Taking a seat next to her he questioned what was on her mind. He let the lie roll off her tongue and off his back. He knew his Swan held her cards close to her chest. No matter what she was thinking, he knew if she really needed to confide in him she would.

“Tell you about what?” she asked.

“Your shitty week, darling.”

“It’s not really all that interesting. How about we just watch a movie instead.”

Killian knew a diversion tactic when he heard one, so he leaned forward to grab the remote. “Alright then, what are you in the mood for? Comedy, drama, horror, a little erotica,” he suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Emma laughed out loud. “You are such a goofball.”

“Am not! I am a dashing rapscallion, and I’ve a reputation to uphold. That’s slander, Swan.”

Emma giggled at his antics, he always knew exactly how to put her in a better mood.

“You choose, I’ll get dinner.”

As soon as he was up Emma missed him, the smell of his body wash, his arm surrounding her without touching her, his whole presence. She craved that, more so tonight than usual. Maybe it was the impending holiday. The Christmas season was always a bit difficult for Emma. She had grown up in a place where Christmas was a tradition, a hugely celebrated holiday, yet she’d never had a family to celebrate with. She enjoyed the decorations and the sentiments, but she could never bring herself to be quite merry enough to decorate her own apartment.

That was why they’d decided to hang at Killian’s house tonight. He loved the holiday season, loved the festive mood, had a tree, and lights outside, a snowman apocalypse had taken over most surfaces of his home, and he even had a stocking just for Emma. She looked around at the winter wonderland, wondering just how much more opposite they could be.

“Have you decided what to watch, yet? Or are you content to hide away in your head this evening?” He set down two plates of chicken and broccoli alfredo before reclaiming his seat next to her.

“Horror,” she decided. “I think a good bloody, gory, horror movie will fit this holiday season just right.” And if she really only wanted to watch a horror movie as an excuse to cuddle up next to him, well, sue her, she was only a red blooded woman. They proceeded to eat and scroll through hundreds of horror flicks before finally settling on one.

“That was delicious!” Emma exclaimed.

“I know what you’re thinking, devilishly handsome and he can cook,” Killian joked, taking her plate.

“How’d you know?” Emma over-exaggerated as he took the dishes to the kitchen. She started the movie when he sat down beside her again.

A shrill scream cut through the silence, and Emma practically jumped into his lap. Killian wrapped his arm around her, horror had been the perfect choice of genre on her part. He treasured getting to hold her close like this, enjoyed the way her hair tickled his nose when he leaned his cheek atop her head. “You alright there, Swan?”

She nodded her head, but then buried her face in his chest, and threw her arm around his waist as yet another unsuspecting victim was attacked on-screen.

Killian chuckled at the sharp contrast of her actions to her words. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Emma yanked at a patch of his chest hair that peeked through the v of his t-shirt. “Hey, the only one who saves me is me.”

“Ooh, tough lass,” he teased when she jumped once more. Absentmindedly his fingers played with a lock of her soft hair, twirling it around his fingers.

They watched the remainder of the movie in silence, holding on to each other, secretly reveling in the comfort it brought. “Want to watch another one,” Killian asked her when the movie credits started rolling. He was loathe to let her go just yet.

Emma sat up and looked at him, his gorgeous blue eyes looked so hopeful. She didn’t want to go just yet, didn’t want to leave the comfort bubble they had created this evening. But before she could just nod yes to his question, instinct took over and she leaned in to kiss him. She wanted to taste that hope in his expression. His lips were soft against hers, and she sighed in contentment at just the contact. Leaning into his body, Emma opened her mouth just enough to allow her tongue to lick a path across his bottom lip.

“Emma,” Killian moaned against her lips.

Deciding to be bold, Emma easily straddled his lap, then wrapped both arms around his neck and connected their mouths once more. He opened to her when she licked his lips this time. Emma tried to cut off the choked whimper as their tongues met for the first time. It was no use though, she couldn’t really control the noises that escaped her, or the way her body pushed against his with need.

Killian’s mind was spinning. It was a Christmas miracle, Emma Swan in his arms, plundering him. He rhythmically slid his tongue against hers and tried to control his ardor as she rubbed against him in a matching rhythm. The little noises she made and the sounds of their kiss only served to arouse him further, making it painfully obvious in his sweatpants just how aroused he was. He couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed given that Emma was grinding herself against his hard-on every bit like the teenagers they were acting like. He ran his hands up and then down the contour of her back until he reached her ass. He squeezed her cheeks and urged her on in her ride.

So you opted for a quick lay then, brother? Killian heard his brother’s warning in his head. That was not at all what Killian was doing, but would that be what this became? Would this mean as much to Emma as it would to him?

“Hold on, Swan.” As much as he detested bringing their enjoyable activities to a halt, he detested the thought of this being a one time thing even more.

“Why,” Emma whined as she literally grinded to a halt.

“I don’t want this-”

“You don’t want this…” Emma trailed off, jumping from Killian’s lap. She immediately stood up and folded her arms across her middle, a move he recognized as her subconscious trying to protect herself.

“Let me finish, love. As you can see,” Killian gestured to his raging erection, which he adjusted slightly, “I clearly want this.”

Emma blushed a little at his uninhibited statement. “Then why’d you…”

“What I was going to say is, I don’t want this to be a one time thing, Emma.”

Her eyes widened at his use of her given name. Prior to him moaning it into her ear a moment ago, he only ever used it if something serious was happening. Serious. Emma’s hearing was suddenly tinny, there was a faint ringing in her ears, and the room seemed to be getting a little smaller. She tried to take a deep breath, but felt as though she couldn’t inhale deeply enough. Wasn’t this what she wanted? She was too confused to form the thoughts of what she actually wanted. Not ready, were the only words that came. Regardless of what she wanted, Emma wasn’t ready. When then? she argued with herself. You’ll just ruin it, her dark side told her. I can’t lose him, too, she panicked.

Killian watched as emotion after emotion played in her eyes. First a bit of shock, then confusion, he could swear he saw want, and maybe even belief for just a second, but ultimately fear won out. He felt his hope turn to anguish. He wasn’t going down without a fight though. “Look Swan, I know you want to run. But I want you to have the facts before you leave.”

She gave a miniscule nod of her head, tears welling in her eyes. She might not know what he was going to say, but she knew what she needed to do.

“I love you, Emma Swan.” Killian stood up off the couch and stepped toward her. He took both her hands in his and continued, “For years now, I have loved you, and I am in this for the long haul. I know you want to run right now, and I won’t stop you, but I will ask you to stay. Please Emma, stay?”

Emma listened to Killian, and as much as she wanted to stay, while every fiber of her being was telling her that she could, her traitorous mind was telling her to run. Screaming at her that she would ruin it, he would abandon her too. “I- I can’t,” she whispered on a broken sob. She removed her hands from his and quickly walked toward the door.

“Emma,” he called after her.

Grabbing her jacket and beanie from the floor, she turned and spared him one last glance before opening the front door and running to her car.

♥E&K♥

As Killian laid in bed that night, a single concept swam around in his mind. Longing. She had looked at him longingly, right before she ran. She did want him, she did want them. He knew it in his heart. It was just going to take some convincing of the part of her that liked to embrace the worst, see the worst, and keep out any happiness from Emma’s life. He fell into a semi-comforting sleep as his plan came into focus. He would go to her, he would convince her. Perhaps he should have tried harder tonight, but giving her the night wouldn’t hurt. He would go to her tomorrow, first thing in the morning.

A few short blocks away Emma lay in her bed, mind jumbled with thoughts. The most prevalent among them was, what the hell is wrong with you? Why had she panicked? She loved him, always had, and he had laid his heart out there to tell her words she never thought she’d hear Killian Jones tell her, and she had done what she always did. She ruined it. She couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning as the look of sadness, hurt, and even disappointment that had painted his face riddled her weary mind. Emma only began to settle down and relax once she decided she knew what she had to do. She would go to him. First thing in the morning she would go to his place, she would apologize and tell him that she felt the same. All his stupid snowmen would bear witness as she threw herself at his mercy.

♥E&K♥

Killian Jones had always been an early riser and this morning was no different. He went through his morning routine, he whistled Silver Bells as he waited for the second cup of coffee to finish brewing. He would take two travel mugs of coffee, go to the donut shop to grab Emma a bear claw, and then he would go and woo the woman he loved. He stepped out into a fresh layer of snow, perhaps they would have a white Christmas after all. He thanked his lucky stars that the driveway wasn’t too bad off, he didn’t have time for that mess this morning. He got into his car still whistling Christmas tunes as he backed out of his driveway.

Emma had always been a late riser and this morning was no different. She stretched lazily before rolling out of bed to get ready for the first day of the rest of her life. As she went through her morning routine she prayed that Killian would have coffee ready when she got there. She couldn’t possible imbibe in any liquid courage this early in the day, but she at least needed her caffeine fix.

Emma’s heart leapt into her throat as she turned onto Killian’s street. There were emergency vehicles in the vicinity of Killian’s home, a fire truck and two police units. At least there’s no ambulance, she thought with relief. She pulled off to the side of the road, not wanting to impede any investigation. She would just walk the rest of the way to Killian’s.

Emma was almost to the fire truck when an officer started to jog toward her. “Sorry, ma’am, we can’t permit you any further than this,” he called out on approach.

“Oh, I’m not being nosey, I’m just trying to get to my friend’s house.”

“Emma?”

“Oh, hey David. I’m just trying to get to Killian’s. Come on, you can let your wife’s sister slip around can’t you. I won’t tell if you don’t,” she laughed.

“Emma, maybe you should come with me.”

Emma immediately went on high alert at David’s grave tone. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident-”

“What kind of accident,” Emma asked. When David didn’t respond she took off running. “No, no, no, no, Killian!” she yelled as she rounded the fire truck. Killian’s car was crushed, the entire driver’s side was smashed in, and all the windows were shattered. Glass littered the ground around them. “Where is he? Where’s Killian? David, where is he?” she cried as she took in the destruction.

“He’s gone, lady,” a short man in an EMT uniform hollered callously.

“He’s gone?” Emma mumbled to no one in particular as she dropped to her knees. She didn’t feel the glass cutting into her when her knees hit the ground, she didn’t feel anything but a vice like grip on her heart as a sob wracked her body.

She didn’t know how long she’d been there as time felt suspended. She could see around her, but nothing registered, no sound, no feeling. Suddenly Emma felt arms around her middle and immediately fought them off. “Get off of me,” she yelled. “I’m fine!” Emma wiped at the tears that had spilled, while inhaling as deeply as she could. Control, she told herself. Emma turned to David, “Sorry, I’m okay,” she gritted out as calmly as possible. “David, just tell me where Killian is, okay? I really need to get to him.”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now, let me take you to him.”

Emma hung her head, nodding silently. The tears fell straight down to the ground, silent and continuous as she tried to come to terms with losing her best friend.

David looked over at Emma in the passenger seat, he’d never seen Emma this broken. According to his Mary Margaret, she’d been through some pretty rough times before landing in the Blanchard home, and eventually being adopted. Not knowing what to say, he reached over and held her hand. “He’s going to be okay,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

Emma’s head shot up and she looked at him like he was crazy.

“What? It doesn’t hurt to hope at a time like this,” he reasoned.

“He’s dead! What the hell do you mean he’s going to fucking be okay?” she screamed at him, unleashing the anger she felt at the world’s perverse pleasure in her suffering.

It was David’s turn to look stupefied. “What are you talking about? Killian’s in the hospital, he’s not dead.”

“What!” Emma breathed out, her whole body was shaking with adrenaline. “Get me to him. Now!” she demanded turning on David’s police siren.

David had barely put the car in park when Emma hopped out and sprinted into the emergency room. Arriving at the counter she asked the woman behind the counter where she could find Killian.

“I’m sorry ma’am, are you family?”

“Yes!”

“What’s your name and relationship to the patient?”

“I’m Emma Swan, and I’m… he’s all I’ve got,” she pleaded.

The nurse looked up at her and smiled kindly before looking down at the paperwork again. “I’m sorry ma’am if you’re not family- oh wait, he has you listed as next of kin.”

Emma let out a half laugh half sob at that news, and brought her closed fist up to her mouth as she tried not to lose it again. “Please, can I see him.”

“He’s in bed six.” The nurse pushed the release button for the door and Emma immediately barreled through.

Locating the sixth bay, Emma peeked around the curtain to make sure she was in the right place. “Killian,” she sobbed, her tears once again falling as she took in his battered state. The left side of his face was bruised, bloody, and swollen, and the entirety of his left forearm and hand were wrapped. She pulled up the chair that was in the corner of the small curtained off room and snatched his right hand into both of hers.

A doctor entered the room at that moment, “Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Anna Winters, I will be overseeing Killian’s treatment. I’d like to go over the next steps with you.” She continued when Emma nodded her head. “Killian was in an accident this morning, he was found unconscious by a neighbor who heard the crash. He has deep lacerations on his forehead, his left forearm, and wrist. Head wounds bleed rather profusely. Even with his lack of consciousness, we gave him a local anesthetic for the sutures just to be sure he couldn’t feel anything. The laceration was deep, but scarring should be at a minimum. Now we just need to run some tests to check for damage we can’t see. Since we need to get a look at the leg that was pinned, as well as possible swelling of the brain and any potential internal bleeding, we’ll be sending him for a full body CT scan. Do you have any questions for me?”

Notwithstanding how the words swirled around Emma’s head just as quickly as the spunky doctor had said them, she knew she had one pressing question. “Will he be okay?”

The doctor chuckled lightly despite the grim situation. “I can’t make you any guarantees, but my medical opinion is that Killian will make a full recovery. Considering he was broadsided by a car doing around 30 miles per hour, according to the preliminary police report, he is in pretty good condition.”

“How soon until he wakes up?”

“That’s up to Killian’s body and mind. Sometimes our body’s natural defense mechanism is to function at a lower state of alertness. Since he has been in and out of consciousness, he is not in a coma. He was asking for you earlier, assuming you’re Emma?”

She looked down at his still form,then back up at the doctor. “May I have just a minute before you take him?”

The doctor nodded, “Someone from my team will be in to collect him momentarily.”

Emma squeezed Killian’s hand between hers, “Killian,” she whispered. “I need you to… I just need you.” She wept as the adrenaline began to wear off, and the anguish ran through her “I’m sorry,” Emma sobbed, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay when you asked. I promise, if you wake up, I will stay forever. I’ll never run from you… from us again. I love you, Killian.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed it gently.

“Sorry ma’am, we need to take him now,” someone said.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re done,” Emma whispered, then she gave Killian’s hand one more squeeze before she let the medical team take him away. Folding her arms across her middle she sat staring at the place his bed had been.

“You know, this won’t be where he comes back to,” a staff member told her as they began to clean up the room, readying it for the next patient.

“Where will he go?”

“Most likely to recovery up on the third floor.”

“Okay,” Emma responded, “do you know how long it will be?”

“Ask for Nurse French when you get up there. She’s a sucker for love, and will most likely tell you what room he is going to be in for the night. I’d settle in if I were you, it’ll be a bit.”

“Thank you!” Emma left the room and went to go find out where Killian would spend the night. The tip had paid off, Emma got a room number from the sweet nurse and then set off on a mission to occupy her time instead of waiting around to fret and worry.

♥E&K♥

Killian woke to semi-unfamiliar surroundings. He blinked his eyes as he looked around. He recognized some of his belongings, more specifically, his Christmas belongings had thrown up in this room, but he hadn’t a clue whose room he was actually in. Raising his hand to run it over his face, he stopped midway noticing the bracelet on his arm. What the hell? he thought as he examined the piece of plastic. A hospital bracelet?

He looked around again and realized he was in the hospital. A noise turned his head, and he noticed someone standing in front of the window. Emma! Her back was turned to him, but she looked like an angel anyway. He admired her as she stood front of the window, surrounded by lights and holiday cheer. Abruptly everything came flooding back into his mind. His plan to woo Emma, leaving his house, his brakes locking up on the ice when he was backing out of his driveway, and the accident. Hearing the noise again brought him to the present, and it dawned on him that she was crying.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m a survivor.” The words were barely more than a raspy whisper as his throat was parched. He watched Emma whip around, an expression so beautiful on her face, his heart raced.

“Killian,” Emma sobbed, relief washing through her entire being. She raced to his bedside and threw her arms around him.

“Easy, Swan,” he grunted as she connected with him, jarring every bone in his body.

“Oh shit! Sorry. I just… Killian, I’m sorry,” Emma started. She sat up so she could look at him. Sitting down beside him on his bed, she resolved herself to tell him exactly what she’d told him while he was unconscious, even if she muddled her way through it. Nerves be damned, I can do this, she encouraged herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay when you asked, I just-”

“I know, Swan,” Killian interrupted. He stared lovingly into her eyes, trying to convey with just a look how much he understood, how he felt the same way.

“You do?”

“Aye, I heard you before they carted me off. I thought I’d dreamed it.”

Emma cupped his cheek in her hand, running her thumb affectionately back and forth. “No, Killian it wasn’t a dream. And I want you to hear it, to hear me, you deserve that much. Especially for putting up with my shit.”

Killian chuckled at her colorful language. “I love putting up with your shit, Emma Swan.”

“Shut up and let me finish, Jones.”

“The romance is palpable,” he mock whispered with an adorably wide smile taking over his whole face.

She giggled despite the serious moment she was trying to have with him, and her tears that threatened to spill forth. Even with the bruises and the stitches he was beautiful, especially when that smile was just for her.

“I should have stayed last night. I wanted to stay last night. I just panicked, like I always do. I need you, Killian. You are the best part of my life. I’ve been torn for years between what we have and wanting more. The thing that always stops me is that I can’t lose you. But I’m done, I’m done worrying about the what-ifs. I don’t want to regret that I never took that leap of faith fifty years down the line, and I know I will. I would rather take a chance on the greatest love I’ve ever felt, than play it safe for one minute more.”

Killian couldn’t help the tears that welled in his eyes. He’d waited so long for Emma to come around. To take a chance with him. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those words, Emma. I promise, you won’t ever regret taking a leap of faith for us.” He found himself more taken over with emotion than he thought possible, and his tears unashamedly trailed down his cheeks. Emma caught one with her thumb, wiping it away, before leaning in to kiss him.

Emma’s tears finally broke free as they kissed, and she could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears. She rested her forehead delicately to his when she needed to breathe. “Killian, I was so scared. When I thought of what could have happened. What if I’d never gotten the chance to tell you how I feel?” A quiet sob escaped her as she once again felt the fear that had gripped her when she saw his wrecked car this morning.

“I told you, love, I’m a survivor.”

“I know, but if I’d stayed, none of this would have happened. Now you’re in the hospital for the holidays. I went to your place while you were sleeping to grab your snowman apocalypse and decorate your room.”

“The first thing I noticed when I woke was Christmas had thrown up in this room. I love it, Swan.”

“I love you, Killian. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Emma.” The words were slightly choked up as he absorbed what she’d just said to him. “Can I say it back?”

“Say what?”

“May I tell you that I love you, have loved you for a very long time, without you fleeing the scene like my assailant this morning?”

“Yes, Killian, tell me,” she whispered.

“Thank the gods, Swan, because I’m not sure which hit and run hurt more, you or the car,” Killian teased.

Emma chuckled lightly, but knew that he probably wasn’t joking. “No more running, I promise, now tell me.”

“I love you, Emma.”

♥E&K♥

One week later

Everyone was stood around David’s obnoxiously large television, mesmerized as the ball began it’s infamous drop, signaling the end of an era and the coming of a new and fresh year. All but Emma and Killian, who stood gazing at each other as the countdown began. She had her arms resting on his shoulders, loosely clasped around his neck, while he’d wrapped his arms around her waist.

As Emma looked into his eyes she remembered the relief she’d felt when she first saw him in the hospital. Unconscious, but alive.

She thanked whatever gods might be listening that he’d only sustained minor injuries. Some bruised ribs, a couple cuts on the forehead, a deep gash along his left wrist and forearm that had almost been deadly, and one roguish knick on his right cheek. He’d been beyond lucky there hadn’t been more extensive damage.

Emma tensed a little thinking about what could’ve been, but quickly felt the tension fade, knowing David and his partner had caught the idiot that had been driving home drunk that morning and plowed into the driver’s side of Killian’s car. She relaxed even further when he smiled at her and rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Killian chuckled a little when Emma shivered as he caressed the length of her back. She was wearing a little black number, a backless halter dress with the epitome of a plunging neckline. He hadn’t wanted to leave the house when she’d shown up wearing it to pick him up for the party. His car was still in the shop so she’d offered to chauffer him around town in the interim.

A rush of excitement zipped through Killian when he thought about how they’d soon be driving most places together, as Emma had agreed to move in with him. Along with the gifts they’d already had for each other, Killian had slipped a little box under the tree sometime between when they arrived home from the hospital Christmas morning, and when they opened gifts that afternoon. In the box was a house key and a note asking her to move in with him. Although some might’ve thought it was quick, they’d been in love so long that it really was just the natural next step. Her lease was up at the end of the year, he owned his home; it was a no brainer. Most of her things had made their way over to his place during the past week, and tomorrow they would grab the rest.

A different type of rush zipped through Killian when Emma ran a finger around the shell of his ear before caressing it’s lobe. She leaned toward his other ear and whispered into it, “I can’t wait for you to take me home.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Swan, I hardly think my erection is something this crowd wants to ring in the new year with. Don’t be a bloody tease, love, you know I’ve been waiting for this for literal years.” With his ribs banged up, the doctor had said no physical activities for two weeks. They’d decided a week was long enough.

“I’ve been waiting for this too,” she said quietly, still talking into his ear. “Waiting, and wanting, and thinking about this,” she purred, barely thrusting her hips against his. “Sometimes I’d lay in bed thinking about you for so long, that I’d slip my fing-”

Emma was cut off abruptly by Killian’s hand over her mouth. “I’d have kissed you silent, but I’m waiting for the-”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone chimed together. All but Killian and Emma who were already kissing hungrily. Emma’s arms were locked around Killian’s neck and both her hands were carding through his hair. Killian had one hand gripping her hip, and the other massaging her bare lower back.

“Get a room!” Mary Margaret shouted.

“Can we use yours?” Killian asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I already have plans for that bedroom tonight,” David announced, swiftly swatting his wife on the ass.

“David!” Mary Margaret giggled.

“Well then, if we can’t use yours, best we better get home to ours.” Emma emphasized her point by breaking from the embrace of Killian’s arms to hug the host and hostess goodnight while wishing them a happy new year.

“Thanks for an entertaining evening, mate,” Killian told David, shaking his hand. The next thing he knew, he was sucked into a patented Mary Margaret hug. “Take good care of her, okay?” she whispered into his ear.

“I plan to,” Killian answered his potential future sister-in-law.

Emma linked her arm through Killian’s and started to pull him toward the front door. “Alright, alright, enough with the warnings,” she laughed. “We all have other more enjoyable activities to see to.”

“Too true, darling.”

They both said their goodbyes to the other party guests as they made their way to leave. Catcalls were tossed their way as everyone knew why the couple was darting out, only minutes after ringing in the new year.

“Get me home, Jones,” Emma demanded once they were in the car. She placed her hand on his thigh and began kneading higher.

“You’re going to get the both of us in an accident if you keep up the shenanigans.”

Emma laughed at his warning, “Just drive.”

♥E&K♥

The moment the door was catapulted open, Emma launched herself into Killian’s arms. His breath was knocked from him with the force of her attack, and even with the discomfort it caused his ribs, he couldn’t imagine a better feeling than Emma’s body pressed to his.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” Emma immediately released the vise-like grip her thighs had around his waist, signaling him to put her down.

“No love, my rib cage is still just a little tender. Nothing I can’t handle if it means I get to hold you in my arms.”

Emma’s megawatt smile warmed his heart. “Take me to bed, Killian.”

“As you wish.”

He took her hand in his and led her to the bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, he pressed her against it and took her lips in a steamy kiss. His hands drifted from her waist, over her hips, and further down her thighs until he could feel skin. “So soft,” he murmured. Killian trailed his hands back up her thighs, this time under her dress, appreciating the feel of her warm skin. When he reached her ass, he gave both cheeks a firm squeeze, eliciting a soft moan from Emma. The sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, and he squeezed her again. “Such a fine ass, Swan.”

Feeling the spark of arousal from her nipples all the way down to her clit, all she could manage was a breathy request for more. She pulled Killian’s tongue into her mouth and sucked on it as if it were his dick. Rubbing her hands over his chest, Emma set to work on the buttons of his shirt. Finding herself impatient, she began to just pulled at his shirt.

“Someone’s in a rush,” he teased.

“Oh please, you know you want it just as bad.”

“Aye,” he answered, “only I have much easier access than you.” To prove his point Killian moved his hand from where it still palmed her ass around to the front of her panties and gently fingered the slickness he found waiting. “Christ, Emma, you’re killing me.”

“I’ve been wet for you all night, Jones, my panties are ruined, and if you don’t put something inside me, I’m going to scream.”

“As long as it’s my name you’re screaming, I’m okay with it.”

Emma rolled her eyes, then placed her hand over his and guided his fingers to her entrance. She pressed his middle finger with hers and slowly both their fingers slid inside. “Oh fuck, finally,” she muttered.

Killian stared at Emma, eyes closed in pleasure, bottom lip bitten into with her teeth. He was frankly quite shocked that both of their fingers were inside her, it was hot as fuck, and-

“Move,” she commanded while thrusting down on their fingers, and pushing up into herself.

Killian snapped out of his stupor and set to the task of getting Emma off, and quickly if he could because just this very act was threatening to have him coming in his pants. He let her grind on their hands and set the pace, while he unfastened the strap of her dress, baring her breasts. “Fuck me,” he growled.

“That’s the idea.”

“Snowmen… they’re snowmen.”

“What?” Emma looked down to see what Killian was staring at. “Oh yeah, they’re pasties, you know, so I didn’t have a nip slip in public.” She spoke as if this were run of the mill conversation, still working herself up higher. “I know your affinity for snowmen, so I couldn’t resist.” She removed her hand from his, then brought her fingers to his mouth.

Killian immediately added a second finger to compensate for Emma’s loss. When she presented her finger to him, he quickly sucked it into his mouth. Divine. He knew she would be though.

“If you’re still hungry, the pasties are edible,” she giggled. Her giggle was interrupted by her own deep moan as Killian immediately latched onto one of her nipples and sucked deeply while still fingering her. The way her swollen walls sucked at his fingers made him long to be buried in her. He quickened his pace and applied his thumb to her clit delicately. Emma’s whimpers and the tense set of her body told him she was close. Every muscle in her body was working together as she rode his hand.

Feeling the pressure of her orgasm building low in her belly, Emma grabbed onto Killian’s shoulder. She needed support as her body rushed toward completion. When he bit down on her nipple, she cried out as the sensation shot straight down to her clit and propelled her straight into orgasm. She placed her hand over his again, halting his movements. She gently rocked against the solid pressure of his hand, riding out the pleasure. “Oh my god that was... I needed that.”

Killian was mesmerized by how beautiful total and complete arousal became Emma. Her skin was pink, and although she had a light sheen of sweat on different areas of her body, a small layer of chills covered her skin. Her eyes were bright, and her hair was wild. “Bloody hell, I love you,” he cursed before attacking her lips again.

Emma pushed herself off the door, guiding them both toward the bed. Reaching the foot of the bed, Emma grabbed at Killian’s belt and began undressing him. She made quick work of his clothes, having him bared for her perusal in under a minute. “Killian.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I love this,” she said, running both hands generously over the chest hair that covered his skin and muscle. “And this,” she added, grazing her nail down the trail leading to the promised land. “But this?” she purred, wrapping her hand around his dick, “this is goddamn gorgeous.” She pumped him firmly, relishing the guttural moan that sounded from deep within his chest. Emma felt fresh arousal as she admired his length, he was hot and thick in her hand, and hard as a rock. “I don’t know if I want to jerk you off, taste you, or fuck you, Jones. I want it all.”

“And you shall have it all, I promise. But tonight, let me love you, Emma.” He held his breath after he spoke the words. He knew she’d promised no more running, but he still worried some words would scare her. He wasn’t holding back though, he wanted to make love to her, and he wasn’t going to hide it, he was going to trust her.

Emma’s eyes widened. She was so turned on and worked up she hadn’t considered he’d want to take it down a romantic path. A flutter went through her heart as it swelled for this man. “Okay,” she whispered. “Make love to me, Killian.” The smile on his face in response was enough to melt her completely. “I love you.”

“And I you,” Killian returned as he gently pulled her dress and panties over her hips and let them fall to the floor. “Stunning,” he murmured, staring at her naked form. He got onto the bed, resting on his knees and grabbed her hand to pull her up. Bringing her into his embrace, he gently kissed her lips; wrapping one arm around her waist, and cupping one of her breasts in his free hand, he easily laid them both down on the bed.

Killian placed a trail of kisses along the column of her throat and sucked at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave any marks. Continuing further down he reached her breasts and laved careful attention upon them, he made sure to feast his fill until the snowmen pasties were gone.

Emma sighed in pleasure as Killian paid homage to her breasts. She’d always had very sensitive breasts and was damn near coming again. She could feel the rhythmic thrust of his dick against her thigh, and she wanted nothing more than to feel it inside her. “Killian, I really need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

Who was he to deny her anything? Situating himself in the cradle of her thighs, Killian placed her legs around his hips. His cock twitched when he saw the glistening arousal that coated Emma’s folds. Fuck me. Lining up at her entrance, he pushed into her slowly. It was like heaven, or at least what he hoped heaven would be like, as the sensation of Emma’s warmth surrounded him. When fully seated inside her, Killian waited for her to adjust.

Emma inhaled sharply at the sting. It’d been awhile, outside of her vibrator, which was most assuredly not as endowed as Killian Jones. She reached up to caress his cheek, then urged him toward her. She kissed him soundly before whispering, “I’m ready.”

He looked into her eyes and could see that she didn’t only mean for this, but for anything and everything. Emma Swan was ready. He kissed her this time while slowly pulling out of her and then driving back home. Killian kept a languid pace, enjoying the tight, wet caress along every inch of his dick as he pumped in and out of her. He felt her hands snaking around his waist before she cupped his arse and urged him to go harder.

“So good, Killian.”

“Gods, Emma, you feel so good wrapped around me.”

He started thrusting harder with Emma’s prodding. His cock was buzzing, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck were standing on end, and his nipples tightened along with his balls. He was close, but he really wanted to bring her off with him. He lightly toyed with her clit, “I want you to come again, Emma.”

She nodded her head vigorously, she couldn’t imagine a better idea than coming again. Her gaze was focused on his, the blue barely visible in his state of arousal. “Make me come, Killian.”

Killian’s hips snapped to hers in a particularly arduous thrust, and he kept that pace when she cried out, spurring him on. He watched as her body began to flush again, and her breasts bounced each time he bottomed out. He could feel the moment Emma fell over that edge, her walls tensed and began to suck his cock. The glide of her walls against his shaft was immeasurably pleasurable. The tightening on the head of his cock as he tried to bury himself deeper within her had him calling out her name as he began to come. He could feel the intensity with which he came as he spilled hot burst after burst into her. He thrusted home several more times until he felt his arms start to go weak with post orgasm haziness.

Killian rolled them both over so that he wasn’t crushing her, and they were still connected. He didn’t want to give up the sensation of Emma wrapped around him in the most intimate of ways quite yet.

“That was…”

“Our new nightly ritual,” Emma finished for him.

Killian laughed out loud. “As you wish.”

#cssecretsanta 2017 #cssecretsanta #cs ff #cs fanfics #cs smut

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