#i wrote this in one sitting so please forgive if it's garbage

[macfrog]

if patrick bateman were a woman

cowboy like me [bonus chapter]

surprise!! happy halloween!!!! may your day be spooky and your sex be filthy. here's a bonus chapter of clm to celebrate. love y'all !!! despite being cowboy joel and his reader, this is not canon. does not happen in the cowboy like me series. i wish. it's just a little bit of spooky szn fun with my two favorite star-crossed lovers. !!!

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: sarah throws a halloween party. you and joel have a little too much fun.

warnings: as pwp as a macfrog fic can get, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lil bit titty appreciation, a singular daddy mention, a single slice of degradation, but also praise kink, unprotected piv sex, creampie, it's set on halloween, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 4k

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Ice, pretzels, lime juice. Ice, pretzels, lime juice.

I’m giving you one job. Ice, pretzels, lime juice. That’s it.

That sounds like three jobs, you’d said.

Sarah ignored you. Be here at seven, alright? Ice – pretzels – lime juice!

It’s seven thirty. You’re finally on her front porch. The tiny section of bare skin between your stockings and black skirt is pimpled with goosebumps. With each inhale you suck in the sickly-sweet scent of fake blood, splattered across your face. You have a bag of ice slung over one arm, a bag of pretzels balanced on top, a bottle of juice hanging from your fingers and an axe under your elbow.

Only – it’s not lime juice. And the axe is plastic.

Sarah opens the door and spots your blunder instantly. “That’s lemon.”

“I know. They didn’t have any lime.”

“They didn’t have any lime? Where the hell did you go?”

“It’s Halloween, Sarah. Everybody and their fucking grandma is drinking tonight. Lemon tastes the exact –”

“Ah!” She holds a finger up. Her red cape flutters in the breeze. “It does not taste the same. Otherwise, why would it be two separate things?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman,” you drone, “mind letting me in? I’m fucking freezing.”

She scoffs, and steps aside. Mutters, “’s not the same thing,” as you pass.

You click down the hall, head rolling to check out her decorating. The living room and kitchen are lit by constellations of tiny tealights, flickering and blinking and casting tall, warped shadows across the walls. There’s a purple neon sign sat against the wall that reads Spooky. By the fireplace sit the two pumpkins she and her boyfriend carved last night; she’d sent you photos and asked you to pick a winner. When you chose the Iron Man head over the silhouette of Tinkerbell, she sent back a middle finger emoji.

Y: It’s cleaner cut. What do you expect? Shoddy work, Miller.

S: asshole.

Sarah’s slotting the ice into the freezer. Struggling, by the sound of it. You swing back into the kitchen to find Wonder Woman on her ass, hammering her fist against the frozen pack to fit it in.

You’re about to offer help, when someone else does it for you. Someone lower, gravellier. A voice like thunder in the distance, a storm approaching.

“You need a hand?” he asks, and when you turn, you almost drop your fucking axe.

He glances to you as he emerges from the dark hallway, the warm glow licking at his graying flicks of hair, nestling in the deep-set lines on his face. His eyes dart down to where your fingers now clutch the plastic handle, holding it against the hem of your skirt like it’ll do anything to cover your modesty.

Your modesty, meaning – the line of sexy black lace curling around your thighs, snug against the supple skin.

What the fuck are you doing here? you mouth, as Joel paces across the kitchen towards his daughter.

He shrugs, palms outstretched. It’s my house?

You roll your eyes, run your tongue like lightning across your scarlet lips. Sarah straightens up, huffs hair from her face and stares blankly at Joel.

He bends, takes the entire bag in one huge palm, and reorganizes the drawer with the other. Your eye drifts to his bicep, flexing under the tight seam of a dark tee. The bag of ice cradled in his arm leaves weak little droplets, running down the tan skin to the crook of his elbow. You want to fucking lick them up, gather the frozen beads on your tongue, hike up up up to the curve of his shoulder, the crook of his neck, the –

“Hey.” Sarah clicks her fingers in front of your face. “You hearin’ me?”

“Huh? No, yeah. No. I wasn’t lis– What did you say?”

She sighs again. Joel groans as he pushes off his knee and stands tall behind her. Wipes the water from his arm with one swipe of his palm.

“Would you put these in a bowl?” his daughter asks, shoving the bag of pretzels into your suited chest. She shuffles off, announcing she’s going to pick a playlist for the night.

Suited is perhaps giving you too much credit. You’re in a mini skirt and waistcoat, a red tie slung loose around your neck. You’ve a clear poncho draped over your shoulders, but with the heat from the million and one fucking candles – and the flush that the forty-something-year-old with his wide frame and fitted sweatpants and toned chest and his big fucking hands has cast over you – it’ll soon be discarded to the newel post.

But when you reach up for the bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet, pushing forward with a palm on the countertop, the marble digging into your pelvis and forcing your ass to jut out – you think yourself pretty fucking smug to be in a skirt that hugs your cheeks and not much else.

You turn, the lip of the bowl in your fingers, and smile sweetly at Joel, whose gaze returns north as you approach him.

“You got nothin’ better to do with your night than babysit a bunch of twenty-five-year-olds?” you murmur, spilling the bag into the blue bowl. You place a pretzel on your tongue, humming at the taste.

Joel smiles, popping the cap off his beer. He spills the amber liquid into his mouth. “I’ll be in my room.”

Your eyebrows lift. “That so? You need any company in there?”

“Nope. Rangers game is on. I’ll be busy.”

The words ghost across your lips. You’ll be busy, you breathe. Joel nods. Then looks you up and down.

“American Psycho?”

“What?”

He flicks his wrist up and down your figure. “What’s his name, again? Pat–”

“Patrick Bateman,” you say together. You nod.

“That’s the one.” Then he turns, leans his jaw nearer until his lips line with your ear. Your eyes shoot across to the empty doorway. Sarah’s skipping song after song in the living room.

Joel’s finger slips beneath the lace trim of your stockings, tugging gently. “I don’t remember ‘im in these, though,” he says, voice low.

You gulp. Swallow to push your heart back into place. “Well,” you glance down, lifting your thigh closer to him, “if he were a woman, he woulda dressed like this.”

“That’s somethin’ I’d like to see,” Joel murmurs, eyes locked on the place where lace separates from skin.

“Yeah?”

He nods. Growls, “Yeah.”

And then he’s walking away.

Within an hour, the house is jumping. Literally. Almost.

You sit at the kitchen island, sipping on a beer, staring down the hall at the sea of bodies – of nylon and polyester, of purples and oranges, of headbands and props and cloaks and hats. There are a lot more than forty people here – a lot more than Sarah intended to turn up.

A lot more than you know, too. She’s barely even four years younger than you, but most of these kids look like they just walked out of middle school. Of the handful of faces you recognize, one is sat opposite you, his arm draped over Sarah’s shoulder, her hand locked in his. She and Ty have been dating for a year now, surviving long-distance when she jets back off to school every few months.

The other you know, unfortunately for you, is swaying by your side. Leaning a little too heavily into you. Asking you questions about college, and then talking over your answers to tell you stories about his college. Asking you questions about films you like, and then interrupting to gawk at the titles you reel off. The only times he doesn’t jump in over your answer, are the times he’s asking who you think might win in a fight between prime Mike Tyson and prime Muhammad Ali. And that’s only because you don’t have an answer to give him.

Jace. Ty’s best friend. Fucking – loser.

“And who the fuck are you s’posed to be, anyways?” he asks, slinging a heavy arm over your shoulder. He reeks of beer, warm and stale. His jaw’s swinging, cheeks popping and suckling on a shriveled piece of gum.

You scowl, shrugging the uncomfortable weight from the nape of your neck. “Patrick Bateman,” you mutter.

“Who?”

“Christian Bale. You know, when he –” Sarah mimes lifting an axe over her shoulder, takes a swing through the air, across the island to Jace.

“No fucking idea,” he says, shaking his head. You’re not surprised.

“Where’s your axe?” Ty asks, as Sarah nuzzles back into his side.

You shrug. “Saw someone using it to stir the punch earlier. ‘s probably in the toilet or something.”

He laughs, flashing his dimpled cheeks. He’s got glistening eyes beneath long, black eyelashes. He’s handsome. Sharp jaw, full lips. Sarah links her fingers at his side, plants her cheek against his shoulder. She’s comfortable. She’s safe. Your chest warms at the sight.

He squeezes her arm, and they share a meaningful glance before there’s a yell from across the kitchen, and their attention is diverted.

When they turn to watch two of Sarah’s high school friends sword-fighting, wielding a plastic lightsaber and your axe, you slink off, swiping two beers from the fridge. Swift and silent, you scale the stairs and fade into the darkened hallway at the top, in pursuit of your own dark-eyed, sharp-jawed comfort.

The sliver of light at the end of the hall draws you in, footsteps silent along the soft carpet. Up here, tucked away in the corner of the house, far from the rattling music and rumble of boisterous chatter – you can hear the soft roar of a crowd, the crack of ball against bat.

Your hip nudges the door open, trickle of condensation running over your knuckles. Joel’s eyes are already on you. He’s laying on his bed, legs outstretched, knee cocked. One arm lies idly on his thigh. You get the feeling he shifted it quickly when he saw the door move.

He balances his chin on the end of the remote, purses his lips and lifts his head. “Now,” he mumbles, “you’re s’posed to be downstairs.”

You shrug, holding the bottles up. “Thought you might need a top-up.”

His eyes thin. He sits up straight, swings his legs over the edge of the bed. You come to a stop between his knees, holding the beer down to him. He hums, taking it with his eyes locked on yours.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he says, and his eyes begin to drift down.

You tilt your head back at the same time he does, lifting the lip of your own bottle. The cold drink washes over your tongue, bitter and blunt in its taste, leaving a furry feeling on your gums. When your chin lowers again, Joel’s hand is on the back of your thigh.

He’s staring at the two knolls between you – your breasts round, nipples peaking under the tight waistcoat.

“Welcome,” you reply, swirling the liquid around in the curved glass. Your voice is barely there. But he hears you, and he must hear the want laced deep through that one quiet word, because he instantly slides his beer onto his nightstand.

He curves both hands around your thighs, fingers lifting higher and higher between your legs until they’re crossing over lace and onto bare skin.

You shuffle forward, leaning your arms on his shoulders and propping your knees on the bed either side of his body. Your skirt rides up, exposing the shard of shocking red lace beneath the pinstripe material.

Joel sees it. Like it’s a rag and he’s a bull. It charges something deep inside him. Something that awakens beneath the thin line of fabric between your legs.

You can feel your pulse in your clit. Fluttering, fucking – hammering. Your cunt feels painfully empty, clenching around nothing. Joel’s palms surf across the tops of your thighs until his fingers are teetering along the hem of your skirt.

“Off,” he instructs, swatting the poncho away.

You shake it from your shoulders the same way you shook the blond downstairs off. Joel nods as the material crumples to the floor. He hooks a hand under your knee and yanks your body closer to his. You almost throw the beer bottle across his bed.

“J– fucking hell, my –”

“Shut up,” he clips, and grabs the beer from your grasp to deposit it alongside his own.

His hands find the tiny buttons of your waistcoat, fingers slip through the gaps between them where your skin peeks through. You can feel his hot breath on your chest. A wave of need washes over you, a desire from deep within your marrow to feel him everywhere. His breath, his tongue, his hands. All of him.

Your entire body weight rests on his shoulders, your fingers locking his shirt in two tight fists. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. Barely seems to notice. He pulls apart the first button, watches with a dark gaze as your breasts spill over. The second button pops open easily, and they bounce lower. When he unhooks the third, they drop into place, nipples pointed, welcoming him in between them.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he whispers as he leans in, mouth flattening against the smooth skin between them. “No bra or nothin’.”

“Knew you’d be here,” you reply, head rolling back as he licks a trail across to the darker flesh of your nipple. His lips close around it and he suckles gently. Your nails dig into his scalp.

He pushes the waistcoat over your shoulders and it drops to the carpet, pooled inside the shell of poncho. As soon as it falls, his hands begin the climb up the seam of your thigh, resting on the brush of red – where he feels the quickly dampening mark on the fabric.

“Thought as much,” he says, head cocking to watch your expression warp as he rubs slow circles into your clit. His voice is as soft as his touch, innocent almost, when he asks, “She like that?”

“Ye-ah,” you choke, leaning back.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and uses his other hand to fish beneath his sweatpants. He rubs himself under the gray cotton, watches as your fingers clutch at the waistband to tug it down, releasing him.

His heavy cock springs up between your bodies, dabs precome on the pointed tail of your tie. You giggle, loosening the knot and pulling the thin silk over your head. Your hands wrap around him, twisting and pumping and dragging the milky arousal from his slit down the smooth, warm skin. Joel’s breath catches when your thumbs swipe across his head.

His fingers slip behind your knees and pull them apart, pull them wider on the mattress. You lean forward, chest brushing against his parted lips, taking your panties in one hand and guiding him along your slit with the other.

You cover him in your arousal, the veined skin soon slick and pearlescent. His wide head slips between your opening, notching against your entrance and forcing the breath from your lungs.

His hands sit firmly on your waist, pushing down on your hips, pushing and pushing until he sinks snug into your cunt. When he pauses, his mouth agape and eyes stuck on the sight of his body connecting to yours, you whine.

“More,” you mewl, voice dripping with need, drizzling all over him.

“We gotta –”

“More.”

“Baby,” Joel says, voice flat but crumbling. “We gotta go slow. I’m gonna – You’re gonna make me come, dressed like that, if we go too quick.”

But fuck, you want to feel him. Want him to buck his hips and fill you in one go – fuck the pain. Fuck the discomfort, fuck the way your walls would clamp in a vice grip around him. You want him to fuck you. Want to be fucked so good that you have to time your moaning with the bassline of the music downstairs, unable to contain the sounds in your throat. Fucked so good that you waddle out of the room, that you fling yourself back onto the couch and wince in pain, a sharp memory of the breadth of him shooting between your legs.

Your hips circle, the heat of your cunt swirling around and around on his tip. He groans, hands tightening on your waist to hold you still.

“Stop it, darlin’,” he growls, the words clawing from between his teeth.

“F-fuck me, then,” you moan, curling your back to slowly edge down on him.

“Ask nicer.”

You smile, heavy lids falling closed. “Please?”

His hands roam around the curve of your ass. He starts to push again. “Nicer.”

Your mouth opens wider the further he slides into you. The more he claims of your body, the further you open for him, the warmer your welcome. Your head tips back, eyes tighten until you see stars. When you feel a weight around your neck, you flutter your lashes open, blink the cyan-colored sparkles from your vision.

Joel pulls your jaw back down to face him. Squeezes on your pulse, holding you between his middle finger and thumb.

“Nicer,” he demands.

You lean in, small hands linking around his thick wrist. “Fuck me, please, daddy,” you whisper.

And he smiles like a fucking devil. Eyes drawn black like ink. He pulls you in until your chin brushes against the rough bristle of his own, lines his bottom lip with yours.

Into your mouth, he asks, “You think you can take it, babygirl? Think it’ll fit?”

You nod desperately, anchoring yourself on his wrist. “Know it will.”

He’s only halfway in. Your heartbeat is thudding around your body, focusing hardest on your clit. Your hips move again, and Joel allows it, sitting back to watch as you sink down further.

“Go on,” he says, watching your body slowly attach to his, “’f you think you can do it. Be a big girl ‘n take it. Slow.”

Something caught between a laugh and a whimper drags between your painted lips – something dripping in desire, built from a need to prove yourself to him, to take all of him inside your body, to feel him in the deepest parts of yourself. You push on him, loosen his grip around your neck and flatten your palms on his chest. And you curve your back, pushing him deeper.

“’s my girl,” Joel says, quietly, as if to himself. “This what you wanted? Comin’ up here, dressed like that?”

Your teeth hold onto your bottom lip. “Like what?” you purr, leaning forward until your noses brush.

Joel tips his chin up, lips flush against yours. “Like a little fuckin’ slut.”

You laugh weakly, feeling him finally in his entirety. “Fuck.”

Joel’s hands take your waist, pushing you down until the pain sends bolts of lightning across your vision. The bruising feeling of his head against your cervix. The sweet stretch of your skin opening around his.

“Beggin’ for it, weren’t ya? ‘n now look, you can’t hardly take it.”

“I can take it,” you hiss back, bracing yourself on the mattress. Your hips lift, holding onto him, bouncing up and down steadily. “I can take it,” you repeat, like a mantra, like the only thing keeping you in the room still. The only thing reminding your body to keep moving.

Joel holds a palm steady against the bottom of your stomach, rubs his thumb delicately against your skin. “So deep, baby. ‘m so fuckin’ deep inside you. That feel nice?”

The meat of your ass slaps against the tops of his thighs. You’re quickening, eyes screwing shut. He feels so good. Fills you up so fucking good. Your legs start to loosen, knees weakening the more you fuck yourself on him. Your head drops between your shoulders when his thumb lowers, circles gently at your clit.

“Keep – keep doing that. Fuck, Joel – touch me. Keep touching me.”

“’boutta come, ain’t you?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“Yeah,” he says, “she’s about to come.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, hips rolling now, losing rhythm between the split of his cock inside you and the lull of his thumb on your clit. Your back arches, vision begins to blur. Your lungs close in on themselves as you give one final gasp to the ceiling, and let go.

Your walls clamp hard around him, and in one swift movement, your bodies are flipped. When you open your eyes again, you’re on your back, Joel’s figure towering over you.

“’attagirl,” he mutters, palms flat against the underside of your thighs. He pushes them flat, folding you in two, your knees resting by your shoulders. “So close, darlin’. Ain’t gonna last.”

You’re shaking your head, holding onto his neck, thighs trembling. “I – can’t, Joel.”

“Yeah, you can. You can,” he assures, dipping his head to place his lips on yours. Your mouth opens up for him, tongue falls against his own. It’s barely a kiss – you’re licking at one another, sure, but there’s nothing tender or gentle about it. Joel pulls away only to glance down and guide himself back inside you. “Gonna be my good girl, aren’t you? Gonna make me come.”

With one seamless thrust, he’s back inside you, pressing your legs harder against your torso. You whine, a blur of pain and pleasure mixing where he fucks you.

“Good girl,” he says, tongue skimming along his top lip. “Nice ‘n wide, that’s it.”

Your back arches into him, arms tighten around his neck, lips settle curved around his own. You’re moaning, his name releasing itself from your mouth in shots of breath. Joel takes your knee and hooks it over his shoulder, letting the other fall to his hip. The angle forces him deeper. Deeper and harder.

But he’s starting to jump. Bucking randomly. He’s panting your name, teeth grazing against your neck in attempt to hold on just a little longer, feel you squeeze him a little more.

“You’re close,” you slur.

“’m close,” he says.

“Gonna come in me –?”

“Baby –”

“– ’n send me – ah – back downstairs full of you? Runnin’ outta me?”

Joel’s head shakes. His eyes tighten. “Fuck, darlin’. Dirty fuckin’ mouth.”

“C’mon,” you beg, “give it to – m-me.”

His hips hammer against yours, punching against the edge of your cunt harshly. You sob out, nails digging into his shoulders, until he halts, and you feel the warmth of him spurting deep inside your body. Feel the way he tenses, empties, and stills.

Your head falls back against the mattress. Joel’s still nuzzled against your neck, breathing labored, lips soaking wet against your skin. You sift your fingers through his hair, combing through it as he comes to.

His chest rocks against yours. Feeling starts to sharpen again, the orgasmic haze starting to bleed into the past. The walls of the house thud with the music from downstairs. You feel the weight of his body on top of yours again.

“Up,” you groan, pushing on his shoulders.

Joel scoffs, pushing against the mattress and rolling over beside you. He slips out, his spend seeping out and spilling onto your thigh.

Your fingers intertwine with his by your side, your nails scrawling into his knuckles.

“I miss you, when you ain’t around,” Joel whispers, glossy eyes blinking at the ceiling. “I’m bored up here.”

You roll onto your side, run your fingers over the halo of sweat around the collar of his shirt. “Good think I ain’t far, then. ‘m only downstairs.”

He smiles. “Downstairs is too far.”

You lean over him and place a soft kiss on his rough cheek. “Just have to keep you at my hip then, don’t I?”

His head turns and his lips find yours. He cups the globe of your head, pulls you harder against his jaw, runs his tongue along your teeth. When you pull away, you shift the damp hair from his glistening forehead.

“You ruined my tie, by the way,” you tell him. “The hell am I supposed to say that is?”

Joel shrugs. “If Patrick Bateman were a woman, ‘n all that.”

#i wrote this in one sitting so please forgive if it's garbage #but halloween has SUCKED for me this year and it's my favorite holiday SO i had to mark it somehow #anyways #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel

[serendipity-by-chance]

atp i need cc to sit down and think before she even attempts to write twp because tlh was a hot piece of garbage. and thats saying something because do you know how biased i am when it comes to tsc? i ALWAYS rate these books 4/5 or 5/5 because of how much i love this world and the characters. This is the first time I have ever rated a book from this series 3/5.

cc has always been a writer that can write love and other emotions so well it feels like poetry. But on god the mess that this book was. The absolutely unnecessary love triangle as if we didn’t know that herondaisy was canon. Like for us to root for a love triangle both the parties must be on equal footing. THERE WAS NEVER A CHANCE FOR THAT. Wasted so much time on this bs like we knew james and cordelia were endgame please. Cassie please realise not every love story needs a love triangle. Herongraystairs was phenomenal. Kierarktina was ADORABLE. Please stop making love triangles that make no sense just to create unnecessary drama.

Also I will not forgive her for Kit’s death. The way she wrote Kit’s death felt as if she just wrote it for the sake of someone dying. To keep up with the whole ‘there are costs to battles of this range’. Because how can you write the death of a character who played such a key role in most of the characters’ lives but not have them grieve over it? The only grieving character that made me feel anything was Grace. AND IM A GRACE HATER?? THE FACT THAT GRACE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO MADE ME FEEL ANYTHING ABOUT HIS DEATH?? As an older sister I felt really mad that we didn’t get more from Anna on Kit’s death. Like if either of my little sibling died in my arms I’d lose my mind, and we didn’t get any of that. And yes okay we get it there are scarier things, but are you fr telling me that when you lose someone that dear to you your mind will work rationally?? They’re mostly teenagers here. You’re telling me these teenagers would not pause for a second and have the most irrational outburst?

so my request to cc after this whole thing is please stop and think what you will do in twp. it is the LAST book in the series. It is one with HUGE expectations.

#tlh #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #the last hours #chain of thorns #hot piece of garbage fr #can this woman pause and think #rant

[deadfloweremojii]

Every Morning Felt the Same

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Slight Yuki x F!Reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Angst

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: akito being akito

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3884

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

I wrote this a while ago and I had no idea how long it was until now! After starting the final season I came back to it and spiffed it up a little and well... here it is!

Feel free to send requests!

Fic below the cut

I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same. However ever since the beginning of this year I have started coming out of my shell. As unapproachable the girls have made Yuki Sohma we have somehow become rather good friends. It was awkward at first but I’ve gotten used to the staring from the “Prince Yuki Fan Club” garbage. It wasn’t as if I liked him, we were just close friends. I have gotten to know him and his friends over the last few months. Yuki and his cousin Kyo have a very interesting dynamic to say the least. It seems as if they are cat and mouse, but the mouse always outsmarts the cat.

It was finally time to go home; I could be considered lucky in that regard. I am an exchange student. I have my own student apartment that the school pays for me to live in. It can get fairly lonely on the weekends or during breaks. I’m fairly introverted and only really talk to Yuki and Co. during the school day. My japanese can be pretty rough at times, but I understand enough to get by. With winter break coming up I was preparing to celebrate New Years by myself like I have the past few years. It’s just not worth it to go home for the holidays; the break is too short to make the price tag worth it. I almost have grown to love being by myself; after a long day at school the silence is calming.

My normal path home is fairly straightforward, but the idea of the upcoming holiday clouded my mind. I had somehow ended up walking past my usual turn without realizing and continued on into the forest on the outskirts of the town. A cold gust of air brought me out of my trance; I looked around wildly unfamiliar with my surroundings. As I turned on my heels to go back the way I came; to my utter disbelief a white snake blocked my path.

Now I didn’t hate snakes, but I admired them from afar or held well handled pets. Very unlike any snake, or wild animal, I’ve ever seen it slithered up to me. I didn’t want to startle it, on the off chance it’s hungry so I stood as still as possible gripping my school bag against my chest. A cool scaly feeling enveloped my calf, as the snake slithered up it. I gripped my eyes shut, praying it just went away after realizing I was not edible. Then it dawned on me, it was below freezing, and snakes are cold blooded… and I’m warm blooded… NOW I'M A SPACE HEATER FOR A SNAKE!

I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my lips as I felt the snake take refuge under my shirt. Whether it be divine intervention or my (un)lucky day a man came walking toward me on the frozen path. He was dressed in a simple yukata with shaggy black hair. He looked at me calmly and then to my… chest? HE’S LOOKING AT MY BOOBS! I looked down as I saw a little snake head pop up. He’s looking at the snake… Why is the snake looking back at him?

“I see you got yourself into a situation” the man laughed. He didn’t seem to be speaking to me, but almost to the snake?

“Yes, uh… please help” I whispered. I didn’t want to bother the snake for fear of it biting me. In my awkward fear I happened to answer in english instead of japanese. The man tilted his head, and I just assumed he didn’t understand me. I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but he cut me off.

“You’re y/n, right?” He said back in perfect english. “Yuki’s friend from school”. He talks about me?

“Yes, sir.” I said. “Is there any way you can help me? I switched the conversation back to japanese. It always felt rude to make someone accommodate me, even if I wasn't the best speaker.

“Come down the road to the house with me. I can help you better there” He chuckled. “And don’t worry about how you speak. Do what is most comfortable.”

We trotted along the path rather slowly, I did not want the snake to fall or worse. It was only a couple minutes. We exchanged pleasantries. The man was Shigure-san Yuki and Kyo’s uncle who they lived with. From my time being friends with them I’ve only really heard Tohru mention him a few times. I never really hear the boys talk about their family, it seems to be a touchy subject.

We finally arrived at the house. It was pretty nice considering it was in the middle of the woods. As we got inside the snake slithered down my leg and decided that the house was his now. I relaxed my tense muscles. I guess I didn’t have to stay very long. I looked around, still standing in the entryway. I noticed Kyo sitting at the low table and I smiled politely at him. He looked up when he heard the commotion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, shocked. It seems visitors are not abundant here. “What did you do to her?!” he yelled at Shigure-san.

“Nothing! Why would I do anything to one of Yuki’s beloved friends?” Shigure shrugged off.

“Oh, um there was a snake…” I started. Yuki had just entered the room. He looked up when he heard the word snake.

“A snake here is it now, y/n-san?” he looked around… angrily? “What did it look like?” He blurted. I wasn’t very used to Yuki not being calm and collected. This was definitely a change of pace for him. I guess he really doesn’t like snakes. As I was about to open my mouth to answer, another boisterous man with long silver hair burst into the room

“Yuki-kun! Have you missed me? I wanted to come visit you but it was so cold! Without this fine lady I would have never made it” he swoons. The man walked over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the house, my shoes left in the entryway.

“Aw sweet, y/n-chan” He started, bringing my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “Thank you so much for your kind nature! Without you I would surely have been left for dead”

Dead? I thought. I don’t recognize him, he kind of looks like Yuki. I don’t think I’ve ever met him. How does he know my name? The only thing I carried here was…

“The snake.” I whispered. I looked up to see familiar yellow orbs. “You… you were the s..snake” I stammered. “How is that even possible, humans can’t be snakes, snakes are snakes” I gripped my hair in my hands as I thought how this could ever be possible.

“My sweet love, don’t grip your beautiful hair” he said as he went to grab my hands. Both Yuki and Kyo shoved themselves between me and the strange man.

“Don’t touch her” Yuki said sternly. He shoved me behind him. I lost my balance and fell into his back. I heard a pop and a cloud of smoke appeared as I fell into nothing. In front of me was a little silver… rat?

“What?” I gasped. At this point I just assumed I was dreaming. “Are you supposed to be Yuki-kun now? I guess you are kind of cute.” I whispered as I scooped up the little thing. Kyo turned to Shigure- san.

“Look what you caused?” He yelled. “And you” he turned to the other man. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Shigure sighed. Looking at the man with his hand scratching his head.

“Well Ayame, I guess we got into an even worse situation” He laughs.

…..

“A curse?” I whisper. The Sohma’s had explained everything to me. I finally now realize more than I did before. Why Yuki was so shy, how Tohru acted when I talked about their home life. Why Kyo always seemed on edge. All of this bewildered me.

“So now what?” I asked shyly. “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone of course! I… I just don’t really know what to say” I looked down into my lap.

“Time to call Hatori I guess,” Shigure-san said as he stood up. Everyone had a solemn look on their face.

“Who is that?” I asked slightly afraid. “Am… am I going to die?” I looked up nervously into Shigure-sans eyes as mine began to water. “I… I promise, please” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Tohru, who had come home in the middle of this, offered me a tissue.

“Of course not y/n-chan” He said looking down seriously. “We just can’t have people knowing is all.” Ayame-san caressed my face and wiped away my tears.

“Do not worry, not a pretty little hair on your head will be harmed” He whispered to me. Yuki snatched me away from him.

“This is your fault to begin with.” Yuki said sternly. “Without your whole scheme we would have never been in this mess” This continues on for a while, Yuki being mad at what I now learned is his older brother, and Ayame begging Yuki to forgive him while still being a strange sort of arrogant. I just sat with Tohru, watching the whole thing unfold. Kyo had gone out shortly after this began, Tohru mentioned a Sensei so I assume it was martial art practice of some sort. Ayame-san turned to me and Tohru.

“I have an excellent idea” He sang out, almost twirling over to the two of us. “If we pretend to be together, there is a chance it will be okay!”

“T...Together? What do you mean by that?” I looked up at him, my eyes still a little puffy from before. “Like dating?” Shigure-san just walked back into the room as those words left my mouth.

“Who are you dating now? Ayame? So scandalous!” He wiggled. Yuki facepalmed, fed up with everything.

“You can’t think that’s possibly a good idea.” Yuki sighed. “First of all, I don’t want you anywhere near her, and second you’re almost twice her age. That would never work”

“An apprentice with benefits then!�� Ayame hoisted me up and twirled me around. His arm wrapped around my shoulder but not enough to where our bodies were touching. His hand picked my chin up to look at him.

“Look at those sad e/c eyes.” he sighed. “You need some excitement in your life” He whispered in my ear. Yuki pulled me away from his clutches and looked into my eyes.

“Don’t listen to him.” He warned. His eyes were filled with pain. I wondered if this had happened to him before. Tohru seemed to know and be fine, so why couldn't I?

“I don’t want to lose my friends” My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know what to do, I don't want to hurt you or your family, and I don’t want to lose you” I sob. I couldn't think straight enough to worry about japanese or anything for that matter. “I’ll do anything to just not be alone again”

The room was silent apart from my sniffling. The mood shifted to a depressing tone. Reality had sunk in. The Shomas realized either they try this or let this girl forget. I looked up over everyone.

“I’ll try anything”

…..

Over the last month going to work with Ayame-san was almost tiring. Although he seemed like an airhead, there is definitely something going on in his head that I just can’t guess. I assume it comes with his whole family dynamic. Although I was supposed to be his assistant, I feel like he was holding out for the whole “pretending to be dating” thing. Thank god he couldn’t touch me without becoming a snake; although that did happen a few times. Ayame-san as often as he could would be sure to “teach me” and “guide me” to what I needed to do. Mine-san seemed to keep him in check when we were in the studio, but when we had to run errands it was definitely towing the line.

Yuki always asked if I was okay first thing every morning before homeroom, and walked me home after I was done with Ayame-san every night. I assured him everything was fine. I didn’t want to lose my friends. It wasn’t that bad, it could be annoying at times but I feel like I learned a lot about myself and how to sew; so that's a plus.

One particular night after my apprenticeship, Mine-san pulled me aside. “y/n-chan, you’re doing really well. Most girls would have run for the hills by now!” she laughed. “You’ve gone from this shy little thing, to a young woman who can hold her own!”

“y/n-Chan!” rang out a familiar sing-song voice. Ayame-san waltzed out of the studio. “Do you think you can do me a favor?!” He sang out.

“I guess it depends on what it is exactly, Ayame-san.” I huff looking down the road seeing Yuki walking towards us.

“Well, I’ve been called to the estate. I was wondering if you would like to join me. Shigure said I should bring you!” He grabbed onto my arm and gave me puppy dog eyes. “You can meet Hatori!” Ayame chirped.

“Well I guess I can. If you really want me too” I said as Yuki neared closer. “I'll see you tomorrow then Ayame-san.” I called out as I ran towards Yuki.

“What was that about?” Yuki questioned as we walked towards my apartment. I hopped onto a small wall lining the sidewalk. With my arms out for balance I continued in front of him, spinning on the balls of my feet and walking backwards while facing him.

“He invited me to the estate with him and Shigure-san.” I replied, stopping in my tracks. “I said I would go.” I looked down at him nervously.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea y/n-san?” He looked up at me. He looked rather worried. I was starting to think that saying yes may not have been my brightest idea.

…..

The Saturday morning sun crept into my apartment window. I knew today was going to be… interesting. Shigure-san was nice enough to let me come over in the morning to figure everything out. Ayame-san told me he would have something for me to wear for dinner. Seeing his tastes in clothing it probably was not going to be fun.

When I arrived at the house, it was as rambunctious as always. Yuki and Kyo were lost in one of their usual arguments. They didn’t notice that I entered the house. Shigure-san looked up from his paper and smiled in my direction.

“Good morning, y/n-chan.” he chimed. The two boys looked over in the midst of fighting. I’ve seen them argue but I’ve never seen them fight. Both boys were breathing heavily; sweat rolling down their foreheads. This was rather surprising, Yuki is normally so calm, and collected. Over the past month I’ve learned more about him and my friends. Spending more time with him has made our friendship stronger. Although, it seems to be different now. Yuki has expressed his distrust of his brother. He has even started walking me to the shop, and even to school since my apartment is on the way. I’ve enjoyed spending more time with him… almost more than before. I shook my head at this thought.

“Is everything okay?” He asks endearingly, giving me a smirk. “Ready for your date with Ayame-san?” I blushed bright red at that comment.

“Uh… well… I didn’t think of it that way” I stammered. I brought my hand up to the back of my head, rubbing it sheepishly. Yuki snapped his head over to Shigure-san.

“No way, is that what he thinks is going to work” He seethed. “She never would have agreed to that if those were the terms. Isn't that right y/n-san?” Yuki looked at you sincerely.

“Well I… I wasn’t aware of that. I just assumed it was to meet Hatori-san” I looked down at my feet.

“Don’t worry kids” Shigure-san said as he resumed his paper “It’s just a ploy to allow y/n-chan to the Sohma estate.”

“So I have to pretend I’m dating Ayame-san in order to go?” I looked at Shigure. “Why did no one tell me” I huffed. He looked up at me and smiled.

“Because you wouldn’t have agreed otherwise”

…..

After a “fun” day at the Sohma house it was finally time. Ayame-san arrived with a bag with my name on it to wear. I looked inside; it looked like the pieces of a kimono. I looked up at him.

“I’ve never worn one before… I’m not sure how” I said shyly. Ayame-san snaked an arm around my shoulders.

“That’s okay my love, I can help you put it on for you.” he said coyly. Shigure-san also stood up. “What about me?” he added. Yuki came to my side and took my hand. He dragged you away from the men and up the stairs.

“Or I guess he could.” Shigure-san said defeatedly.

I have never been upstairs in the house before. It wasn't anything special, just everyone's rooms. Yuki still hasn’t said anything as he basically dragged me to his...room. I’m in his room. Those “Prince Yuki” bitches would pay thousands to be in my shoes right now.

“You can change here if you want.” He said shyly. Yuki looked away and blushed. “Tohru isn’t here, otherwise you’d be in her room.”

“I… I don’t know how to put it on” I stammered. “I need help” I looked down at my feet. Yuki took his hand under my chin and pointed it up. His gray eyes looking into my e/c ones.

“I’ll try my best.” He smiled. “There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed, Ayame should have known better. It was definitely one of his tricks.”

Yuki left the room to allow me to get the under clothes on. Once I was done I let him back in. The kimono almost felt like a large sweater. The material was soft and airy. Yuki with his cheeks dusted red, reached around me to gather the material in the way it needed to be. He tied a sort of belt near my waist to gather the fabric. It was not as difficult as I thought it would have been, but I would not have been able to do it correctly myself.

“Thank you, Yuki-san” I said as I pinned my hair up. I looked over at him and smiled brightly.

“Anytime y/n-san” he smiled back blush still sprinkling his cheeks.

…..

The Shoma Estate was huge. I felt like a small child as we approached. Shigure and Ayame walked in front of me, laughing about something or other. My nerves were boiling up, Kyo mentioned how intimidating it can be, especially if you looked out of place. Shigure-san looked back at me and noticed I was staring at the ground. He nudged Ayame-san's arm and pointed back at me. He twirled around towards me and latched onto my arm.

“You’re my date! You should at least look happy” He sang out. I looked around to see some women walking, giving me a disapproving glare.

“I guess I’m just nervous” I squeak. “This place is kind of intimidating” Shigure-san fell into step with us.

“Don’t worry y/n-chan” Shigure-san said “Everything will be alright in the end” He smiled. We arrived at the place we were supposed to meet. It was such a large house. I don’t think I’ve seen one this large since moving from the states. Once we entered, a man greeted us in the entryway.

“Ah Hatori!” Ayame-san said. “How are you! I’ve missed you!” he cried out as he went to hug him. Hatori side stepped and Ayame fell to the floor.

“I assume you’re y/n-chan” Hatori-san said to me.

“Yes, sir” I replied with a bow. Hatori shuffled us into the house and into a traditional dining room. Ayame-san and I sat down together. Hatori stopped Shigure in the doorway.

“Shigure, do you really think this is okay?” Hatori whispered.

“I sure hope so.” He replied.

…..

Dinner went well. It was just the four of us. I was so worried that there was going to be a huge amount of people. I’m so glad there wasn’t. The three men had been drinking, however Hatori-san seemed to be the only one with any sense left. Shigure and Ayame were being as loud as ever, saying risque things towards me.

As we were getting ready to leave, I heard a crash through the house. The sliding door was slammed open and a thin figure was hanging on to the door frame. Hatori immediately jumped to his feet and walked over to the person. The light in the hallway was off so it was hard to see. Shigure-san almost seemed to sober up as this was happening and got up and walked into the other room.

“Let me see her.” the person said as they clawed at the door frame. It looked like they could barely stand. Their robe falling off their shoulder allowed me to see just how thin they were. I shuffled back on the floor only stopping when I hit the wall.

“Let me see her.” they said again menacingly. Hatori-san looked over to me, there was pain in his eyes. I understood he couldn’t do much to stop them.

My heart raced as they came over. They grabbed my face leaving nail marks on my cheeks. My eyes started to water. I had no idea what was going on let alone what to do.

“What’s your name?” they seethed

“y/n” I squealed out meekly.

“You know they don’t like you. They never will. You should just stop trying” they dropped my face and I fell to my knees. I couldn’t stop the tears. Yuki burst through the door and looked on in horror.

“You’re right.” I whispered. Their words resonated with me. I wasn’t part of their world. They had so much more on their plate with Tohru already. They don’t need to worry about me. The person said something to Hatori that I didn’t understand and left the room. Yuki looked at me with tears in his eyes as he crouched in front of me. My tears fell like waterfalls as I cried into my hands.

“I’m so sorry, y/n-san. You should have never been a part of this,” he whispered as he grabbed my hands. “I really did like you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’ll never forget you” he kissed my forehead.

Hatori helped me get to my feet and brought me into another room. I closed my eyes as I wiped the tears away.

…..

I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same.

#fruits basket #fruits basket the final #fruits basket angst #yuki sohma #kyo sohma #yuki x reader #yuki angst #momiji sohma #tohru honda #fruits basket 2019 #akito sohma #furuba

[thebountyfucker]

The Royal Affair - A Choose Your Own Prince Fic

18+ ONLY - NSFW

I wanted to try an experiment where I wrote a story with two parallel branches so readers could choose which character they wanted to read without me writing two separate fics! Let me know what you think! (Subject to more parts!)

Embo x AFAB!Reader or Cad Bane x AFAB!Reader

Tags/CW: Threats of violence/assault, embarrassment

Here's the link to my masterpost!

Want to be tagged in upcoming fics like this? Here's my taglist application!!

You eased up to the table, smiling despite yourself, and bowed your head. You didn’t say anything to them, as per the instructions from your boss, and carefully handed out the flutes of champagne. The royals prattled on in Durese, hardly paying you any mind, though the Prince did cast a glance up at you from the periphery of his vision. You bowed your head once more, and turned to leave.

-

You had never been more nervous in your life than you were now; with a tray of champagne flutes balanced in your hand, and the heel on your left shoe coming loose, you had to put the entirety of your focus onto your task at hand. It was a simple one, really - deliver the drinks to the Duros royal family, bow, and return back to the kitchen to fetch hors d'oeuvres. Simple. Easy. Yet the wobbling in your ankle frightened you. The last thing you needed was to drop the crystal flutes in front of everyone - or worse, on someone.

As you turned, you heard a loud snap, and your ankle buckled and rolled; you went down, your tray clattering to the floor. Conversations around you stopped, and the gazes of three royal families found you collapsed on the floor. A horrified blush crept up on your cheeks as you crawled toward your tray and gathered it up in your arms; you pulled off your shoes and slowly stood, pain blossoming from your ankle. You limped to the back room, and tossed your shoes straight into the garbage.

“What happened to you?” One of your coworkers, a pretty Rutian Twi’lek, asked, glancing down at your now bare feet and rapidly-swelling ankle.

“My fucking heel broke!”

“Oof, tough luck.” She shook her head as she kneeled down and prodded at your ankle. The pain was horrendous, but she didn’t look concerned. “It ain’t broken… I’ll see if I can get a wrap and some new shoes for you.”

“Thank you, Salicia.” You muttered as you sat down, propping your leg up on the seat beside you. Your other coworkers came and went, taking out drinks and snacks, and coming back with dishes and trash. They hardly spared you a glance. There was work to be done and attending to the weak link would only slow it down. You sighed softly as Salicia returned with a bandage and a pair of silken flats.

She sat beside you, gingerly lifting your leg to wrap your ankle. She was gentle, and the pressure of the bandage made it feel instantaneously better. When she had secured it in place, she handed you the pair of flats; colored a vibrant blue, the flats sported a winged lizard embroidered on each of the sides. The slippers clashed with your uniform, but it was better than nothing; you eased them on, and cast Salicia a glance.

“Queen Esmera gave these to me when she saw me asking the other girls. She saw you fall, said these would probably be more comfortable than anything we could offer.” She explained, her lekku tips curling up as she shrugged. “I think she may be fishing for a thank you… so… you might want to go out and tell her.”

“Alright.” You sighed as you stood and brought your tray back to the bar; the bartender noted you with a frown, but knew better than to say anything. “Can you get me seven glasses of your most expensive Phatrongi red? You can… add it to the party’s tab.”

“Did Queen Esmera give you those?” He asked, suspicion heavy in his voice. You glanced down at your shoes and nodded.

“Yep.”

“I suppose the wine is a ‘thank you’ to her.” He muttered, waiting for your nod, before continuing. “And you’re stroking her ego because…?”

“Because it’s the polite thing to do, I guess.” You shrugged, and he shook his head as he poured the thick, purple wine into the glasses.

“Yeah. Polite. And then they turn around and treat you like trash.”

“They’ve been nice to me so far.” You muttered as he helped stack the seven glasses of red wine onto your tray. Your departure toward Queen Esmera’s table was slow-going, as you didn’t want to risk tripping or putting undue stress on your ankle. Your coworkers were careful about not bumping into you, but there were a few close calls.

You made your way toward the Kyuzan Queen, careful to stand a distance away in case she turned her head to regard you; her ostentatious crown, constructed of metals and jewels and silken cloths, was large enough that it could sweep the wine right off your tray. That was the last thing you wanted.

She did, in fact, turn when she noticed you, and you breathed a small sigh of relief as her crown cleared your tray. She offered you a kind, mask-less smile, and you bowed your head respectfully in response.

“Thank you for your kindne-.”

And then it happened. You took a few step closer and the slippers caught on something - likely the queen’s dress. You tripped, and the tray of wine went flying; the wine splashed upon the Queen’s lap and onto the table. The princes and the King jumped back from the table as the wine spread out toward them. Your heart plummeted to the bottom of your chest, and you dropped to your knees at her side.

“I am so sorry.” Tears welled in your eyes. Salicia rushed over with towels, much sooner than you expected, and thrust one at you; she mopped up the table, apologizing to the princes, while you gingerly dabbed at the Queen’s dress. The red wine marred her white and gold gown, and you knew that the stain would never come out. “Please forgive me. Please. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you.”

The Queen gingerly patted your head as you dabbed at her gown; the weight of her ring-covered hand was rather comforting, and it did make you feel quite a bit better.

“There, there, Little One.” Her voice was honeyed and velvet-smooth, yet there was an imposing timbre deep beneath it, as if she knew and reveled in the power she had in this situation. “It was an accident, and these things happen. It is okay.”

“It is not okay!” The King’s booming voice startled you from the calmed stupor the Queen had put you in. Your gaze focused on the Queen’s dress as the party hall went quiet. “This insolent worm ruined your dress!”

“There is no reason to be upset. What is done is done.” Queen Esmera continued to pat your head reassuringly.

“There must be recompense!”

“Enough. You are causing a scene.” Her voice was even and steely, and her husband eased back down into his chair. The waves of rage radiating off the king made your skin crawl - he was one of those kings where the rumors of his temper far outshined any good he had done. There were numerous stories about girls being used and thrown in ditches after minor misdeeds. You hoped your employer would protect you from the likes of him… but that was no certainty. “The dress is ruined. I will call for a maid to bring me another.”

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, and she tilted your chin up.

“That is enough, Little One. Now run along, okay?” She smiled sweetly, and you got up with your metaphorical tail between your legs. You limped back to the staging room, where you found a bench and collapsed onto it. Tears threatened to spill over, but you rubbed them away with the heels of your hands. You felt so foolish, so demeaned. The worst part of this, though, was that it was all your fault. No royal had made you spill the wine. No royal purposefully tripped you, nor did they break the heel from your shoe. It was your own insolence. You buried your head in your hands, a strangled sob leaving your lips.

Someone sat down on the bench beside you. You figured it was Salicia, until you noticed their scent - it was woodsy and entirely manish. You couldn’t think of anyone you knew who smelled like that. Curious, you spread your fingers open and peeked through them; sitting beside you was one of the Kyuzan Princes - the youngest of the four, whose name, you believed, was Embo. He cast you a glance, his browridge cocked.

“Oh! Uh…” You wiped your eyes on your hands, and then wiped your hands on your skirt. “Hello there, Prince.”

“You are in trouble.” He spoke, his voice unwavering and deeply serious. Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach dropped.

“W-what?”

“My father is like a jungle cat chasing a rat. In his eyes, you wronged him, and he will not rest until you pay the price.” He explained, his voice low and conspiratory.

“But I didn’t do anything to him!” You squeaked.

“You embarrassed him, and my mother. He believes you made fools of them both before our allies.” Embo explained, his hands laced together and resting on his lap. “I came to offer my help. The last thing I want is for someone undeserving to be left in a ditch to die.”

“But you’re his son. How can I trust you?”

“Just know that I would rather see him dead than let any harm come to you.” He replied, his gold eyes narrowed and a small growl rumbling in his chest. You blinked at him, and then looked down at your hands. “And he knows better than to touch anything I lay claim to. If I tell him you are under my protection, he will not dare bother you.”

“I… wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense. My family keeps a large staff already. We would hardly notice one more.”

Your gaze remained on your hands, your mind running a million miles a minute. If you didn’t take the Prince’s protection, what would happen to you? Would the king stoop to harming you? It seemed that if his own son was worried, the answer was likely yes. So it would be best to go with the prince then. What if he was lying? What if this was all some elaborate ruse to get you into bed with him, or worse?

“I’ll… need time to think.” You replied, your voice shaking.

“Of course. You have until the end of the night.” He got up, dusting off his expensive suit, and disappeared through the door which led back out to the main hall.

You sat there, still trying to process what was going on; the staff around you stared at you, either concerned or shocked that you had gotten so close to the Prince without mention of sexual activities. You glanced at them, before standing.

“I… I need to take a walk.”

No one stopped you as you slipped out the door into the main hall. The royals were all happily conversing, and you noted that Queen Esmera had, indeed, changed her dress. You ducked down the hallway to the front door, desperately needing some fresh air to help clear your head. Ugh, you had a headache.

The guards allowed you outside, and you sat down on the top step to gather your wits. The warm, humid Coruscant air caressed your bare skin, grounding you to reality. The ambience of the thousands of speeders and marching of armor-clad guards drowned out any sounds from the gala itself. You buried your head in your hands once more, just trying to think.

“You’ve got some shit luck tonight.”

You turned toward the intruder, noting that the Duros Prince was approaching; he had a lit cig between his fingers, and he took a long drag.

“First de heel, den sullying Queen Esmera’s dress…” He shook his head as he eased down onto the step beside you. He offered you the cig, but you declined. “What gods did ya anger?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shaking your head. Cad leaned back, perching the cig between his lips.

“I assume de big guy already warned ya?”

“About his dad? Yeah.” You answered, your worry rising again; it was one thing to hear about the danger from the King’s son… now you were hearing it from an unrelated royal? Great….

“Den ya know you’ll need t’ low ‘til he comes t’ his sense, right?”

You nodded at this. “Prince Embo offered to let me stay with him.”

“Did he now? Doesn’t seem quite safe t’ be going back to de same home as yer threat.” He mused as he took a drag of his cig. “I came t’ offer de same thing.”

“Why?” You asked, wary of Cad’s intentions.

“Well, King Triakt has no domain over me and my family. And messing wit’ us could end badly fer him.” Cad drawled as he plucked the cig from his lips and flicked the ashes off of the end.

“Seems like a lot of trouble for someone you don’t know.”

“I don’t know ya but dat doesn’t mean I can’t extend some kindness.” He took a long drag of his cig.

“What’s the price?” You asked, watching his lips twitch into a small smirk.

“I don’ know yet. We’ll figure dat out as we go.” Cad smothered the cig beneath his boot. “Whaddya say?”

“I… need to think about it.”

“Sure, sure. When you make up yer mind, come find me.” He winked at you and stood, straightening out his outfit. He sauntered back inside, leaving you alone in your thoughts. Now, you just had to decide who to go with...

-

Who do you choose? Embo or Cad Bane

Tags List: @justanotherstarwarswhore, @doctor-ren, @that-clone-wars-girl, @some-serendipity-snail

#embo #cad bane #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #iri writes #my fanfiction

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 5

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: surprise!!! it’s part 5!! i wont be home sunday so i wanted to post this today. i’m really iffy on this part because i wrote and rewrote a lot of the scenes because i wasn’t happy with it and i’m still not 100% happy with it but if i keep picking it over i’ll end up deleting the entire thing and rewriting it from scratch

but yeah i hope u guys like it & thanks again sooooo much for the love on this story <3 you guys rock.

word count: 2.6K

warnings: swearing, angst w/ a lil fluff again and bad editing lol

ALSO the first part in italics is a flashback to before Matt missed the appointment! 

Part 5

“You’ve gotta stop moping, man.” Noah said, bumping his shoulder against Matt’s during morning practice.

Matt knew he was moping but he couldn’t get you out of his head and it was driving him nuts. He was attracted to you the moment you met even though you hated him, but lately something was different. He wasn’t sure if it’s from seeing you carry his child but the past couple months, you were all he could think about.

And it drove him insane.

“I’m not.” He mumbled, attempting to deny his teammates statement. Noah didn’t buy it though, because he grinned.

“You, me, and drinks?” He pointed at Matt. “Tonight at 9. We’re getting you laid.”

Matt forced a smile and nodded, knowing that Noah wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed.

“The ultrasound is in the morning though so I can’t stay out late.” Matt reminded him.

“We’ll have you back in time for the appointment.” Noah promised and Matt believed him which was why the hurt on your face the next morning broke him.

. . .

21 weeks

“Noah Hanifin is at your front door.” Becca says, looking through the peephole before turning to look at you. Piled under a mountain of blankets with tissues surrounding you and an empty tub of ice cream sitting on the coffee table, you‘re the perfect picture of a broken heart.

You have been dodging calls and texts from Matthew for the past two weeks but in the last couple days, he’s been radio silent and you’re not sure if it hurts more, or less.

“Tell Noah Hanifin to fuck off.” You mutter, trying to dig yourself deeper in the pile of blankets. You know why Noah is here and it pisses you off.

Becca opens the door a little and you can see Noah standing there, holding a bag and looking uncomfortable.

“Can I help you with something?” Becca asks shortly and Noah sighs.

“Good to see you too, Becs.”

Becca’s shoulders tighten and you know without seeing her face that she is glaring at him. “What do you want, Hanifin?”

He hands her the bag he was holding. “This is for Y/N. It’s from Matt. He says he’s sorry.” Then he looks at you. “He’s in bad shape.”

You know he’s in bad shape because even though you’re hurt and angry, you’ve been watching his games. He’s being careless, taking stupid penalties, picking fights more than normal and you know he hasn’t been getting much sleep because there are bags under his eyes.

So you don’t need Noah Fucking Hanifin to tell you that Matthew’s in bad shape.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Noah says a little too harshly for your liking. “He fucked up, he knows that. Cut him some slack, he’s twenty two and he’s about to be a fucking father. He’s scared!”

“And I’m about to be a mother!” You snap. “He doesn’t think I’m scared?”

Noah groans in frustration. “Look. It was my fault, okay? I talked Matt in to going out that night because I wanted him to stop moping over you.”

You try to ignore his comment about Matt moping over you but your voice is unsteady when you answer him.

“Matt is a big boy, Noah. He can make his own decisions and he made the wrong one.” You watch Noah’s face fall. “Stop trying to stick up for him.”

Noah shakes his head and sighs. “You should cut him some slack. It was my fault.”

You watch as he leaves without saying another word. When he’s gone and Becca shuts the door behind him, she turns to face you.

“He doesn’t deserve forgiveness just because Hanifin ‘talked’ him in to going out and getting drunk. He made that choice.”

You slowly nod, watching as she walks to your kitchen preparing to throw the bag Noah dropped off in the garbage. You’re not sure what prompts you to stop her but you call out before she throws it out.

“Wait.”

She looks at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Let me see what he brought.”

You know she’s pissed, but she brings it over and hands it to you.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” She says and you nod, watching as she walks down the hallway. When she’s out of sight, you peak in the bag.

The first thing you see is a chocolate bar. It’s your favourite, and you’re surprised he remembered. There’s some candy and a box of popcorn and your lips turn up in a tiny smile when you pull out a movie.

It’s What to Expect When You’re Expecting, the movie you were very against watching because of how unrealistic it would be compared to actual childbirth. There’s a little sticky note that says, you should watch this even though it’s totally not accurate.

Then, at the very bottom of the bag, there’s a bigger note and you want to ignore it like you’ve done with every text he’s sent you but you read it out of curiosity.

Y/N,

 I know that I can’t make up for missing the appointment and I know there’s nothing I can say to make it better so all I’m going to do is say sorry. I am so, so sorry and I know I keep saying that and they are only words but it’s all I can think of to say.

So I’m sorry and I hope that you can forgive me soon because I miss you and I want to be there for you without having to ask my mom for updates on how you are. Please call me, or even text me. I just want to know how you’re doing.

 Matt

 You’re sniffling by the time you’ve read the note but when you hear Becca approaching, you wipe away the tears and shove the paper back in the bag.

“What did he give you?” She questions, sitting on the couch next to you.

You don’t want to tell her about the note so you just shrug. “A movie.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “Will you watch it with me?”

“Sure.” She says, taking the movie from you and putting it in to the DVD player before returning to the couch and curling up on the opposite side of the couch.

You try to focus on the movie but you can’t get Matt’s note and Noah’s words out of your head. You’re confused from what Noah said about Matthew ‘moping’ over you. The two of you were friends and you used that term loosely. If it wasn’t for the baby, you know you never wouldn’t have gotten so close to him. You never would have gotten to know the side of him that the rest of the world has never seen. You wouldn’t have learned how terrible he is at cooking but how gentle he can be.

But you also wouldn’t be in this situation right now. By yourself and pregnant with a broken heart.

So you’re not sure what hurts more. The thought of never having known him the way you do or having your heart broken.

. . .

22 weeks

Johnny: I’m really sorry to bother you but can you please come pick Matt up? He’s in bad shape and he won’t go home unless its to you.

It’s this text that has you standing outside a bar that Matt and the guys are. For Johnny to text you, you know that it must be bad and you’re proven right when the doors open and Noah and Johnny carry an extremely wasted Matthew Tkachuk out. You’re not sure he’s even awake until he lifts his head when Noah shakes him.

“Y/N’s here, bud.”

His eyes are closed but they open when he hears your name and his face lights up and he shrugs the boys off, stumbling towards you. He’s unsteady so you reach out to steady him, grateful when he doesn’t put much weight on you.

“You’re here.” He breathes and you nod slowly.

“And you’re drunk.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I’m sober as a judge!”

You hear Noah chuckle but you don’t react to him, pulling Matt’s arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon. Lets go home.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Noah calls out and you’re still pissed at him so you don’t bother looking back.

“Yeah.”

You get Matt in your car without a problem and when you start the drive back to your apartment, you try to ignore how he’s staring at you but it feels like he’s burning holes in the side of your head.

“What?” You mutter eventually and you see him shrug out of the corner of your eye.

“’m surprised you came to pick me up. I know you hate me.” He mumbles and you sigh.

“I don’t hate you.” You tell him, “I was angry with you. And I had every right to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers quietly and when you glance at him, he’s no longer looking at you. He is staring at his hands and you notice the cuts from the fight he got in to at today’s game. It was a heavy loss and had a lot to do with how many penalties Matt took. They were dumb penalties, all of which he never would have taken if his head was in the game. You know it’s not entirely your fault but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty because you know he’s playing like this because you haven’t been talking to him.

“I know.” You say, pulling in to the parking lot of your apartment building. You could have very well dropped Matt off at his house but you know he’s too drunk and leaving him by himself could be dangerous.

He’s sobered up a little by the time you’re in your apartment. You make him drink a couple glasses of water before guiding him to your bathroom so he can brush his teeth with his toothbrush he keeps at your apartment and when you give him clothes that he keeps here too, you realize how much time he really spent here.

“I can sleep on the couch.” He says and everything in you is screaming to agree but he just looks so tired and you know he won’t get a wink of sleep on that couch so you shake your head.

“It’s fine.” you say, ignoring the small look of hope on his face, instead sending him out of the bathroom so you can get ready. You take your time, hoping that he will be asleep when you go to your bedroom but you find him laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t look at your face when you settle on the bed next to him but you do notice his eyes flicker to your stomach before you pull the blanket over you.

“It’s bigger.” He says.

“What?”

“Your stomach.” He clarifies. “It’s getting bigger.”

“Well that’s what happens when you’re growing a human being inside you.” You remind him and his lips turn up in a small smile.

“Y/N-” He starts to say but you cut him off.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

He looks disappointed but he’s still drunk enough that you’re not comfortable having the conversation the two of you need to have. There are things that need to be worked out and said and you don’t want him to only remember half of it.

So you watch him nod and drift off before letting yourself fall asleep.

. . .

You wake the next morning before Matt. He snoring quietly and his back is to you which makes getting out of bed easier. He’ll be hungover for sure, so you decide to make breakfast while you wait for him to wake up. You’re also trying to think of what exactly you’re going to say to him.

You don’t know if you have it in you to still be so angry at him. He messed up and it’s not something you’ll ever forget but Noah made a good point when he said that Matt is only 23. You’re both still so young and about to be parents and despite wanting him to be perfect and never mess up, you can’t expect him to be.

“Hey.”

You turn to see Matt walking in to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey.” You reply, turning back to the stove. You can hear him sit down on a bar stool and he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“Thank you.” He says softly and it surprises you because you were expecting him to say sorry again.

“You didn’t have to come pick me up last night but you did.”

You shrug, turning around to look at him. “I know you would’ve done the same.”

“I would.” He says. “And I know you’re tired of me saying it but I am really sorry I missed the appointment. I promised I would be there and I let you down.”

You nod, walking over and sitting next to him. “You did, but I’m starting to think that I was too hard on you. You made a mistake, we all do.”

“I swear I’ll never miss one again.” He promises.

“Good, because I’ll shun you if you do.” You chirp and he grins.

After breakfast, the two of you are watching hockey replays and Matt is quietly talking to the baby. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying but suddenly he looks up and grins.

“Can we tell everyone now? I thought we could make up an Instagram post or something.”

“I may already have one prepared.” You admit sheepishly and his smile lights up the room.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #matthew tkachuk imagines #consequences series #allies writing #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton

[rudypankwow]

snow | jj maybank

it snows on the obx and the pogues go sledding

requested: not even a little bit

warnings: none! pure fluff

word count: 500 (i just wanted to post something)

masterlist

a/n: this is kind of silly i just haven’t posted in a long time and really wanted to so i just wrote this little thing bc i just had this random idea i’m sorry i’ve been so inactive please forgive me

Contrary to popular belief, the Outer Banks did get snow from time to time. And every time it did, everyone was beside themselves, the Pogues included.

It was mid-January, and you’d woken up to a light dusting of snow and a text from JJ that said: “Picking you up in 20. Dress warm.” You laughed, this could only mean one thing. The pogues were going sledding.

You slipped on a couple pairs of pants, a sweatshirt, and dug out a hat and a pair of gloves. It got cold here, but not cold enough that you regularly needed heavy clothing, so these things were at the bottom of your drawer.

JJ knocks on the door exactly twenty minutes later, and you head out, saying a quick goodbye to your family in the kitchen.

“Hey, bub,” JJ says when you open the door, pressing a kiss to your nose. His lips are cold, but you kiss him back anyway. The rest of your friends boo from the car.

“Oh, shut up,” you yell back, despite the smile on your face. JJ rests his hand on the small of your back as you head to the car. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” you ask.

“Oh, come on, (y/n),” he says, “I think you know the answer to that.” You step in the car, the rest of your friends are sitting around a collection of objects you guys use to sled on: one actual sled that Kie’s dad had bought, a boogie board, the lid of a garbage can, and so on.

You drove to the best hill on the island. A couple middle schoolers had beat you to the spot, but that didn’t matter. You guys took a second to bundle up, slipping on hats and gloves before grabbing whatever random object you could get your hands on and heading to the top of the hill.

It went the same every time: the boys would try to do crazy tricks on the sleds, and you and the other girls would yell at them, insisting they would get hurt. You’d always head home when someone did get hurt or when Pope or Sarah started complaining about being cold.

Today, it was the former. JJ tried to stand on the boogie board and surf his way down, but hit a rock and was sent flying. He had a scratch on his face from the rough snow and his ankle was likely twisted. You helped him get back to the car, taking most of his weight.

“Let’s head to the Wreck,” Kie says. “I can get him some ice and we can make some coffees.”

So, that’s what you did. Kie found some hot chocolate packets in the back, likely from the last snow day, and you guys sipped on the drinks, joking about the snow while JJ iced his ankle.

Snow on the Outer Banks, it was almost as good as the summertime. Almost.

#writing #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #obx #outer banks #john b routledge #kie obx #kie carrera #sarah cameron #pope heyward #rudy pankow #madison bailey #madelyn cline #jonathan daviss #chase stokes

[bogkeep]

i wrote down a rough outline for the Timian Fable and Vinta Qir story, just to have it written down Somewhere, and i feel like it’s only fair to share it with people who care about them!! i wrote it in a google doc but i’m gonna copypaste it under the readmore, so i hope the formatting isn’t too fucky.

(here’s a toyhouse page for my iphimery characters)

Prince Aljanah (third son of the queen, pretty far down in line to the throne, generally bored, has zero responsibilities and zero accountability) seduces Timian mostly for the heck of it. I mean, Timian is super cute, so like. Why not. He gives him a smooch and a stealthy “think about it, OK?” and oh god does Timian ever think about it. It’s a really Big Conflict in his brain because he has a DUTY and this goes against ALL DUTY and Aljanah is almost literally his employer (his loyalty is sworn to the royal family) so it’s like! What the hell is he supposed to do!! What the prince wants is supposed to trump what he wants, unless it puts the royal family’s safety in jeopardy, and AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (and he kind of really wants to?? There’s a lot to unpack here?????)

 There’s some genuine friendship in there, where Aljanah helps Timian overcome some trauma around magic, but for the most part Timian is left pining for a relationship Aljanah isn’t interested in.

(Aljanah teaches Timian some light magic maybe??? Timian isn’t too keen on using it, ever. He does learn some very useful magic blocks though.)

Vinta is on a mission to assassinate Aljanah. Timian stops them and they are equally measured in strength. Vinta is about to use their magic (which they only use as a last resort), but Timian then has a moment of Gay (their faces are very close together) and blurts out something like “oh... you’re beautiful” which takes Vinta so unexpectedly aback they kind of… flee

Vinta tries again another time, but Timian is there again to meet them, and this time Vinta goes straight for the magic - which freaks Timian out bc trauma, but he remembers what Aljanah taught him and counters it. The ordeal leaves both of them so exhausted, they kind of just lie down and… start bonding over how magic kinda sucks. Very begrudgingly, on Vinta’s part at least. 

(“Please don’t forget me?” “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to”) Unsure If Vinta Agrees To Stop The Assassination But They Certainly Seem Very Unhappy About The Prospect Of One

Despite it seeming like Timian may never meet Vinta again… Vinta keeps showing up. Not as an assassin in the dark, but like, on the street? Off the clock? So they sort of start hanging out?? Vinta has a real knack for finding Timian anywhere, anytime… one time they come across him singing by himself down by the water, but they don’t approach him. Just sit down and listen out of sight, a little guilty for intruding. 

Timian seems awfully forgiving of Vinta attempting to murder his crush, but hey, Vinta was just trying to do his job. Timian seems extremely reluctant to talk about Aljanah at all ever though. Vinta slowly pieces together that Timian has some really strong and painful feelings towards the prince. IT’S COMPLICATED

Vinta never ever addresses the whole “you’re beautiful” thing. Timian never brings it up either. THEY’RE BOTH THINKING ABOUT IT, CONSTANTLY

This is like. The first time either of them has a friend who’s really their equal and who kind of really gets them. It’s so incredibly precious and neither wants to mess that up. This has never happened before in the history of gay

Timian’s relationship to romance/sexuality is very… he has a duty, you know? He has to be stronger than that and not let it ever distract him. So of course Aljanah comes along and MESSES ALL OF IT UP. GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

He has some issues. He’s working on it. 

In all honesty he started out very clueless like he didn’t recognize crushes as crushes for such a long time because “they’re just such lovely friends :)” you know. So it was very easy to say he was above these things BUT HE WASN’T!! HE WASN’T!!! HE WAS JUST A DUMBASS!!! What Aljanah does is essentially just confront the dumbassery head on and it’s like oh no *pictures of all his dear lovely friends spill out of pocket* “i’m gay???” “always was”

Vinta’s relationship to romance/sexuality was to repress all of it because they don’t belong to themself. They were like, keenly aware every time Some Feeling showed up uninvited and they would throttle it and shove it down where it never got to flourish. 1) they can’t have it 2) they don’t deserve it So don’t even try, you know? There’s no fucking point. 

AND SO THEY PINE FOR ONE ANOTHER

I mean they kind of… help each other a lot, sharing traumas, letting the other that they deserve to have nice things, and be a person maybe?? Maybe duty isn’t all there is for them out there? Sounds fake but ok [gazes longingly into each other’s eyes]

Vinta never goes through with the assassination on prince Aljanah but sometimes they kind of really want to. Not because of a job, but because oh my god Aljanah broke Timian’s heart and also AAUGHH HE DOESN’T DESERVE TIMIAN’S DEVOTION THIS IS UPSETTING I DON’T KNOW HOW TO COPE WITH THIS DSJKSDJKDSFJB!!

They also gotta deal with the pressure from the assassin’s guild. Since they’re one of the top assassins they got a lot of leeway at first, but now that they’re questioning both their purpose and loyalty and kind of push back… it’s getting kind of dangerous maybe. The other assassins start getting on their case as well and Vinta has to keep up appearances and prove that they’re not too Weak to do it.  Vinta has a lot of pride in their skills ok. Pride is one of the emotions they’ve let themself foster.

Meanwhile Timian is kind of slowly able to let go of his yearning for Aljanah, because he’s found a relationship that’s filling in all the wounds from what he’s not getting from the prince?? Like he’s investing in a friendship that’s actually fulfilling and a two way street? And maybe?? Something More?? SJAJHSDJKA???

It’s giving Timain the ability to set a boundary between himself and Aljanah that was sorely lacking before. Things are still kind of Strange and a little Painful but he’s on a healthier path and we’re all very proud of him

Look I haven’t thought too hard about the actual plot with the assassination and stuff but imagine that other assassins take on the mission to kill Aljanah and VINTA TEAMS UP WITH TIMIAN TO PROTECT THE GARBAGE PRINCE BECAUSE HE MATTERS TO TIMIAN. 

Aljanah hasn’t met Vinta before (he just sleeps through assassination attempts for the most time, it happens frequently enough that he just accepts that this is his lot in life???) and is like oh thank you and who do I owe the honor and Vinta just punches him in the face

Since that was overall confusing, Timian and Vinta kind of have to talk about it, and Vinta admits to having some… Selfish And Greedy Feelings and they are clearly not ready to confess properly yet

Timian has, for better or for worse, learnt some things from Aljanah. “You want to see something selfish?” he says, kissing Vinta. “Think about it, OK?” he says before he goes, leaving a VERY DAZED Vinta just standing there

[MORE THINGS HAPPEN????]

In the future. When Vinta has quit the guild and Timian is no longer a royal guard, and they make a home together and create a life where they no longer work in violence… 

Vinta collects knives because they love knifes. Knives have always felt Safe to them because magic has been the dangerous tool. Vinta gets really good at woodworking.

Timian helps out at an apothecary. Which is funny because his name just means thyme in norwegian. He doesn’t keep any polearms around, but if necessary he can wield a really mean pitchfork.

They’re both highly skilled fighters, but don’t try to drag them into any pointless wars, ok? It won’t end well for you.

They love and care eachother 

#iphimery #timian fable #vinta qir #aljanah #good kid and anger knife #oc #haiz writes #dont wanna link the doc itself in case i decide to write more stuff that i dont wanna share yet #this is more like a compilation of things i have already mentioned somewhere or sketched or idk. across chats and social medias

[snxwboarder]

//Hey friends. I’m back.

I’ve got an update on the situation I talked about a few days ago. Honestly writing the post I wrote last time really helped me, so I want to do it again. Just to put my thoughts down and allow myself to process.

If you’re going to read (which you’re welcome to!) please make sure you’ve read the trigger warnings in the tags.

But, just a tldr for anyone possibly concerned about my safety: I’m at my parents place now with all 5 of my ferrets and most of my stuff. I feel safe and loved and free. Still scared. Still sad. Still hurt. But very hopeful of the future.

Here I go

Like I said in my last post, I didn’t think I was in an abusive relationship. I was struggling to see it. Even when my friends pointed out the gaslighting and the manipulation, I always had a reason for why he acted the way he did. An explanation for his actions forever engraved into my system because I have always been the one to be there to save him. To excuse him. To forgive him.

It changed last night.

Abusive relationship.

Not something I thought I was in.

Until, for the first time since my dad pushed me out of the room so he could hit my mom when I was 11 years old, my partner became physical.

My boyfriend, of 7 years, who I reassured my friends, not even half an hour earlier, would never lay a hand on me.

Got physical.

I worked a full day yesterday, left the house before he got up. I fed the ferrets before I left, giving my senior ferret her twice daily lifetime medication 2 hours earlier than I normally do because I worked the morning shift - and I knew he wouldn’t wake up to do it.

We still hadn’t talked. Not much. How many days does that make it that he hasn’t spoken to me... 5? I lost count.

Our conversations consisted of me saying “have a good day at work” and his grunt in reply. A short “I’m going to my grandma’s house” because I needed to get out. 

It wasn’t talking. Not really.

There was a time I think he wanted to talk. He came into the bedroom on the 4th night of us sleeping apart. He sat down, didn’t say much. I know he was trying to get me to ask what was wrong, if he was okay, what I could to do help him. But I didn’t say anything.

Which was.... hard.

Really hard.

I’ve spent 7 years being trained, like a collared bitch that comes to it’s masters call that when he’s upset, I find the solution. When we fight, I ask for forgiveness. When we can’t decide, I compromise. 

7 years of training. 

This time I didn’t do it though. No matter how tight he pulled the collar around my neck, the mumbled phrases he said to lure me in:

“I’m so tired...”

That’s what he said. He’s tired. 

Him.

He didn’t ask how I was, he didn’t ask what I was thinking. He just sat there. Staring down into his lap. Breathing. Waiting for me to beg for forgiveness for a fight he started, for words he said, for a relationship he molded. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

That’s the last real thing he had said to me and it still rings back and forth in my head. 

4 days he left me with that.

20 minutes, give or take, that’s how long he sat there waiting. But I didn’t say anything. If he wanted to talk about the fight, I was ready to talk, but I knew it would end in a breakup right there and then at 1am. Not the ideal time. But... ideal times don’t really exist.

He left though. Wordlessly. Closing the door behind him just like the walls he always put up so that I could work to tear them down and make it right. 

The next morning I went to work.

And while I stared into our empty store, my new coworkers that I’ve only known for 2 days standing around me. I made the choice that it was over. I was done sitting here with an infected bandage waiting for it to heal itself. I wanted to rip it off. Let the air sting against the cut he had caused so it could finally get a chance to breathe. To heal.

We were done.

I came home from work with determination in my steps and the most stomach turning anxiety in my gut. 

We were done.

I entered the house. Silence. I go to his office. He’s playing fortnite. 

He doesn’t notice me at first because he’s talking to his friends. His mood is different. He’s happy, I know it. I move towards him and he recognizes that I’m there. 

“How was work?”

It was like nothing was wrong. 

I’m still confused about that part but I didn’t focus on it for too long. “Can we talk when you’re done your game?” I said. 

He agreed. I left the room to go downstairs.

I didn’t take my work uniform off thank god I didn’t take my work uniform off. My car keys were in my pocket because I didn’t stop to put them down. The ferret travel cage was in the car, not because I had it there as a “just in case” but simply because, like the keys, I had forgotten to put it away when I brought them inside after a vet appointment last week. 

I text my friends to let them know that it’s happening. I had talked to my mom on the phone on the drive home from work to give her a heads up that tomorrow they’ll probably need to get me. 

Tomorrow. I can’t believe I thought he’d let me stay the night.

He called my name when he was done the game. We never use each other’s names. Always pet names when we’re alone. So it was odd.

I went upstairs to his office and stood in the doorway.

He asked if I wanted to take a seat.

I said I did not.

The conversation that follows is not something I’m ready to fully bring myself back to, not yet, maybe not ever. I was clear in my intentions, firm with when I was leaving, and as factual as I could be. I explained what I felt he deserved to know, and allowed him to take the silences he needed to take.

A broken man sobbed in front of me, begging me to stay. Saying, for the millionth time, that he could change if I needed him to despite how I’d never seen the evidence of it. Said we could stop having sex for good. Said I was all that he had and without me he was completely alone. Said I couldn’t leave because if I did he would be by himself in a house with no one.

And then he remembered the ferrets.

“Are you taking the girls?” He asked me, breaking again in front of me.

I gave him a very clear, very hard “yes.” 

Because I was.

I was leaving him and I was taking my ferrets with me.

More so than the conversation we just had, the following 30 minutes of my life are the worst 30 minutes I’ve ever experienced. I highly doubt I’ll ever be able to remember those 30 minutes and feel at peace.

It was when the abuse turned from emotional to physical. As he fought me for my ferrets. My girls. 

My hands still hurt from where I grabbed their cage and my voice is still sore from yelling that he needed to let go.

I had my car keys in my pocket because of luck.

I had the kennel in my car because of forgetfulness. 

I grabbed all 5 of them in my arms and I ran.

I ran.

I’ve never moved so quickly with my heartbeat hammering in my ears and my chest so tight with fear and anxiety, moving completely on gut instinct above literally anything else. 

I got them into the kennel and I locked the car.

He could have the house. He could have the furniture. He could have the damage deposit and the subscriptions and the money that he owes me and my virginity that he stole and my broken beating fucking heart I don’t give a fucking shit about any of that useless garbage but he is not taking my girls. I brought them into this house because I wanted one fucking thing to keep me sane and moving and loved and I wasn’t leaving unless they were in the back of my car.

He lost his chance to say goodbye when he grabbed me.

He lost his chance to hold them one more time when he threatened to leave with them.

He lost his chance to a normal breakup when he stood by the door with rage in his eyes telling me that even though my parents were on their way to save me from the hell he trapped me in, he would not let them into his home to free me from the hold that he had so easily trapped me in.

But I stayed firm.

The keys were in my pocket.

I had my girls. 

He moved towards me and I was scared but he grabbed his car keys and his wallet and stormed out of the house.

“You’re a selfish bitch. Fuck you.”

That’s the last thing he said.

And I sobbed in the doorway of my front door until my throat was raw and I couldn’t breathe. I sobbed because of how long I had been trapped. Because of the lies he told me. Because of how many times he said he’d change and never did. Because of all of the signs I missed. Because of all of the excuses I gave. Because of all the fighting and the compromising and the unhappiness. I sobbed because I was so relieved but so fucking terrified about everything that this changes and everything that this puts to an end. I just sobbed.

I don’t know when my step dad showed up but I assume he found me in the doorway shaking with my knees to my chest and my heart broken on the floor.

He held me for longer than he ever has. I don’t know what I said to him. I think I told him about the ferrets but I probably just kept mumbling “they’re in the car they’re in the car the girls are in the car” hoping he’d understand. I think he did. I don’t know.

My mom and brother were there in her van moments later and we packed.

Everything we could fit between 3 cars we packed. We started with the important stuff: my computer, the ferret cage, my sewing machine. We sacrificed the stuff that I didn’t have room for: my cosplay gear, half of my clothes, my fish tank (which breaks my fucking heart all over again please just take care of my fish I told them I was so sorry when we left but I just couldn’t take them). 

It’s hard.

To watch the home you had just finished setting up be torn apart so quickly because you aren’t sure when he’s coming back to demand that you stay.

It’s hard.

But we did it.

My mom, my brother, my step dad, and me. We tore the home apart and I got my stuff. 

I sobbed the whole drive away from that house. My brother drove with me, which I will never stop being thankful for. I sobbed because I was scared, still am, that my ex was going to kill himself. I was worried that that’s why he left. My eyes were on the highway and my heart was being left in broken pieces along the side of the road with each kilometre we drove. 

And then I stopped crying.

About half of the way to my parent’s house.

Just.... stopped crying.

My brother and I talked about anime, one of our shared interests. He just finished watching SK8 with his wife and we were talking about our favourite parts, agreeing that Langa was best boy, making jokes about the silly bits and discussing our favourite scenes. Just talked with my brother about anime.

So I’m here now. In almost the same position I was in when I made a post like this last week, rethinking all of the reasons I had to leave. I’m at the kitchen table. I have a cup of tea that’s 3/4 full and completely cold because this post distracted me. I’ve been crying. A lot. My eyes are constantly puffy and red.

But about 30 minutes ago I went to walmart. 

Stupid thing to give you hope, I suppose, a trip to walmart. I needed to get a sheet for my new bed though and I didn’t want to put it off. 

A solo trip to walmart.

The same walmart that, exactly 1 week ago almost on the hour, I had been in with my ex (”ex” still feels odd to say). We had stopped by to get groceries after a couples counselling session. He was in a bad mood. We argued. In the car I apologized and he did not. 1 week ago I hadn’t realized everything wrong with us. 1 week ago I cried by the george t-shirts because he left me there in a rage after I said we needed to cross the store to get duct tape. 1 week ago I went to the mcdonalds in that walmart to get us burgers and the boy at the till was cute. 1 week ago I slipped into a 15 second daydream where I was with someone I found attractive. 1 week ago I felt guilty for the thought. 1 week ago I was just as brave as I was yesterday, but I didn’t know it yet.

I’m with my mom. I’m with my step dad. I’m with my ferrets.

I’m safe. I’m home. 

When I sat at the red light on the way home from walmart, I felt the relief my mom had told me about 5 days ago. Not the wave that she described, nothing that “washed over me” like she had told me it did when she left my dad; but just a spark. A tiny little glimmer of “this is what’s right”, “this is what’s good”, “this is what’s better”. 

My throat is still sore. My hands are still numb. And my heart still aches. But those pains go away eventually.

He goes away eventually.

#mun does mun things #tw: physical assault #tw: relationship abuse #tw: emotional abuse #tw: rape #tw: suicide #tw: anxiety

[msjr0119]

We Belong

Part 10 - Heaven

Evangeline Bruley returns to Cordonia to take over her families Duchy. She was betrothed to the now King, however he is engaged to Duchess Riley but still has lingering feelings towards his first love. What will happen during her time back in Cordonia?

Just using combined tag list- if you want to be removed just let me know 😊

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree---1986 @gardeningourmet @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

Thankyou @pedudley and @kacie-0156 for pre-Reading, my minds all over the place at the moment so I could have wrote utter garbage 🤣 YOU LITTLE SUPERSTARS 😘

Warnings: Drama sorry not in this chapter 😉...FLUFF! What is wrong with me? I never do a full chapter of fluff 🤣 , closure after a miscarriage, matchmaking friends 🙌🏼, swearing.

Characters belong to Pixelberry apart from OC’s; Duchess Evangeline Bruley and Duke Tobias Farbridge.

*****

“What are you doing here?” Evie asked, believing they both had an ESP moment- both thinking about seeing each other and not leaving it a minute later. Handing her the flowers he had chosen, he kissed her on the cheek. His touch seemed to linger there for a moment, until he began to nervously fidget.

“I hope you like them, I know it’s not much but... I just needed you to know that I care still. I wanted to see you, I couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Are you going somewhere?” Seeing the disappointment on his face, she cupped his cheek- softly smiling at him.

“I was going somewhere. But it would have been a waste of journey. I was wanting to see you too. I love them Drake, they are beautiful.”

“Well I feel like such a gooseberry now.”

“Sav?”

“She insisted on becoming my shadow.”

“Like I was Evie’s shadow as kids, you inspired me Evie- I wanted to be like you. Anyway, how about we have a sleepover like old times? I’ve brought snacks, I’ll cook- not as good as Michaela cooked though. But I’ll try... why don’t you two go and talk?” Evie welcomed them both in, smelling the flowers one last time- the aroma flooded her senses. Savannah laid out the snacks that they had brought with them and insisted that she would deal with the flowers.

****

Evie escorted Drake upstairs, as they entered her room- he noticed the dress on the floor, wondering why it was there along with his letter. Flashbacks from the nights leading up to her attack rushing through his mind.

“Evie I can’t be with you... I’m so sorry.”

“Evie you can’t leave me, one reason- I don’t really want to be a Duke... unless I marry you. Two, I’m sorry for trying to protect you and finishing us. I love you so much... I’m a dickhead for letting you go. Please don’t leave me... I love you.”

“Where are the fucking paramedics? Evie, I’ve known that I’ve loved you since I was probably about thirteen. I waited years to have you in my arms. You and I have a great future. Just us. I fucked up, please forgive me. Maybe in time we can have a little Gracie and a little Tommy. You can’t give up, I’m not leaving you...”

Little Gracie and little Tommy, we could have had that. We did have that.

“Drake? Are you okay?” She turned to face him as she picked the dress up and placed it back in the dress bag. Slightly embarrassed that she had left her room as a shit tip, eager to go and see him after reading his letter.

“Seeing that dress again, that night...I thought I lost you...”

“I’m sorry. I cant throw it out- you bought me it after all.” Focusing his gaze onto her, rather that the item that provided one bad memory- he didn’t want to hear an apology from her.

“I’m the one that’s sorry, don’t you ever apologise.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she joined him- as he held his head in his hands. Placing her arm on his leg, he raised his head up providing her with a half hearted smile.

“I am sorry though. If I didn’t defend Riley, if I didn’t argue with your mom, if I wasn’t stubborn and spoke to you..... things would have been different... we would still have our baby...” Her eyes formed tears as her voice became shaky saying this- the walls that she had surrounded herself by, slowly began to collapse. Drake immediately put his arm around her, supporting her as her lips continued trembling- her tears dripped off her chin and onto his shirt, slightly drenching it. He sobbed on her shoulder steadily, as he held her protectively. The pain that they had both kept hidden came in waves, crying - then mini pauses for recovering their breathing. Both thinking about their memories from the last few weeks, whilst they were separated.

“Are you ready to leave? Would you like someone to pick you up?” Dr Hussain asked her, still feeling guilt ridden about not exposing the full extent of her injuries.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll get a taxi back. Thank you for everything Doctor.”

“You’re welcome your grace. I’d like to see you in a month or so for a follow up, if there’s any questions you need to ask- or you have any symptoms that are on the leaflet don’t hesitate on returning.” Evie nodded, leaving the hospital - she hoped that there was no press outside.

Arriving back at her Duchy the door was open, her heart beat began to race wondering who was there.

“Hello?” She asked hoping it wasn’t any of her friends. Whilst she had been in hospital she had a lot of time to think- not knowing why she was an emotional wreck she didn’t want any empathy from anyone- or for anyone to fuss. This was the second time since her return that she had become a burden. The hospital had insisted that she should have a bit of counselling due to the trauma, whilst alone she did have traumatic flashbacks of the memories but felt the stigma would label her if she admitted it.

“Your grace, welcome home.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“My apologies, my name is Annabelle. King Liam hired me to help you until you have made a full recovery.”

“Of course he did.” Rolling her eyes back she didn’t have the energy to berate her friend for hiring help behind her back. “I’m sorry for being so abrupt. A little warning would have been appreciated.”

“Of course. If you need me for anything, just let me know.”

“For the mean time can you turn away any visitors please. That would be a big help.” Annabelle nodded as she watched Evie robotically walk around her Duchy.

Over the next few weeks, Evie eventually came out of her shell with Annabelle- the two women getting to know each other and becoming friends. She was grateful for Annabelle agreeing to her terms regarding no visitors- the younger woman believed that the Duchess could have been depressed and this was why she was acting strange towards her friends- not really having an explanation as to why she was avoiding the people that cared for her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want to see anyone?” Annabelle eventually asked, not wanting Evie to berate her for asking.

“I honestly don’t know. Ever since I returned, I’ve always made the wrong decisions. Maybe I want to prevent doing this again?”

“They care for you.”

“I know. I care for them too. I love them all. I suppose I just need time alone. There’s so many secrets within Cordonia, so many scandals occur. I lost my parents due to the vicious people within Liam’s court- I fell in love with one of my oldest friends and he publicly dumped me. I thought after all this time, he was the one. At this moment in time, I don’t want any more heartbreak. If I keep myself to myself I can’t get myself into anymore trouble.”

“Anything you need your grace, I’m here. But ...”

“But... I know I’m going to have to face them at some point..” Flicking through the photos in her phone of her and Drake, her heart sunk. I miss you so much.

- - -

Drake remained in his room most of the nights alone, his mind wondering what Evie was doing. Did she still hate him? Was she going to hold that anger towards him for the rest of her life. Liam and the others had tried to invite him out- to make him become more sociable. They knew the guilt he felt towards what had happened to Evie- in a way they did too. They were all frustrated with Evie blocking them out of her life. They just wanted to make sure that she had settled back home, that she was being looked after by Annabelle. Two weeks after she had been discharged, Liam made his way to Drakes room- concerned about his friend, he had hoped that he would open up so he could help him.

“Hi.” Liam noticed how Drake had let himself go, but was grateful for him answering the door.

“Hello, can I come in?” Drake allowed him in, Liam noticed Evie’s hoody on his friends bed. Photos of the two of them that he had printed off, scattered across his bed.

“Look at you two, king and queen of selfies. They are lovely photos of you both.”

“Just distant memories now.”

“She will come around... soon... I hope...” Liam said not sounding very enthusiastic.

“What if she leaves Cordonia? Leaves everyone because of me?”

“She won’t do that. I won’t allow her to.” Smirking at his best friend, Liam knew he would do everything and anything to prevent her from running away.

“All you wanted in life was for Evie to love you back.. the way you loved her... I got a girl to love me, a girl who means so much to me and I fucked up. You’d have given any opportunity to have that Li.”

“I love Evie, I always will do. But seeing you this way proves how much you love her. Yes I was a jerk in Vegas, but I could see that she loves you- you both make a fabulous couple. You ‘fucked up’ to protect her. You always protect the women you love, it’s not the first time. I want you both to be happy, it’s going to take time after all that she’s been through. But I’m here always Drake, you’re like my brother.”

“You’re not angry with me?”

“What on earth for?”

“Oh you know for falling for another one of your girls, for breaking Evie’s heart...”

“Technically, Evie has never been my girl. Our betrothal ended when we was fourteen. Yes we slept together after that, we kissed after that. I hoped that in time she would fall for me naturally- I told her I loved her constantly, she never told me it back- only as in friends. With Riley, technically she wasn’t officially mine either when you grew feelings towards her. I love them both, and I know you do too. But you have more love towards Evie. Once she finds out about the baby, you both may become closer and can try again.”

“Li she won’t talk to me, or see me. I can’t see it happening anytime soon.”

“Think positive Drake, you never know... one day you both could be saying your vows in front of me.”

“Hell no. You are being my best man, I’m not having Maxwell or Bertrand stood next to me.”

“Thanks for asking me in advance. I’d be honoured to be your best man.” Liam laughed, dreading to imagine the Beaumont’s as best men. “You’ll both work it out. Are you coming to the beer garden? Men only- I promise we won’t mention anything about the women.”

“I’m going to stay here. Maybe another day. Thanks for the talk Li.” Liam nodded, as he walked out of the room he noticed Drake pull Evie’s hoody towards him- tears flowing uncontrollably down his cheeks. I miss you so much.

“I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your infamous denim jacket. I really need to invest in some waterproof mascara.” Drake tilted her chin up, caressing her cheek- his thumb wiped away the mascara.

“I’ve got plenty, don’t worry. You’re still beautiful with or without mascara.”

“Charmer...”

“Just telling the truth. Are we okay? Can we be friends again?” I want to be more than friends, but I’ll accept friendship.

“We’ve always been friends Drake. Always will be..” I want to be more than friends.

“It’s good to see that smile again. I’ve been thinking, tell me if it’s a stupid idea...”

“What?”

“One day, do you fancy visiting your parents graves and my dads grave... put something like a memorial there for the baby. I know you wouldn’t have been that far along, but I know they would all be looking after their grandchild... I know it’s stupid, if you think it is just ignore me.”

“It’s not stupid... it’s sweet... we can put a teddy there? Or a balloon?”

“We can go there if we ever feel like we need to speak to them or the baby... just let me know when you want to do it.”

“I always go to my parents graves. I actually went there when I started to fall for you, I told them. I tell them everything even though they aren’t here. I even dreamt about them and your dad when I passed out.. silly I know...”

“It’s not silly, I still talk to my dad. I miss him so much, as you miss them.”

“I do miss them..” Drake didn’t respond, instead he held her in his embrace lovingly. Kissing her on the forehead, he could stay like that all night- making up for lost time. However he believed that they shouldn’t, he wanted to go back as to what they were- but didn’t want to show himself up in case she rejected him.

“I think we should go down, Savannah could end up causing a fire...” Evie nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. It wasn’t the first time Savannah’s attempts at cooking had ended in disaster.

*****

The two of them joined Savannah downstairs, who had kept herself busy making food- for once preventing the fire brigade to be called out. Sitting on the couch, they all spoke like they did in the past- bringing up good memories as well as bad memories. All comforting each other. Evie hadn’t yet met Bartie, so mainly spoke about him to Savannah who beamed about her son.

“Your parents basically adopted us when our father passed away. Drake and Savannah Bruley, doesn’t quite have a ring it... or what about if you all changed your name to ours, Evangeline Walker- now that has a ring to it. Don’t you think Drake?” Drakes eyes widened at his sister’s comment, wishing she would shut up.

“Well it’s better than Evangeline Rhys.. or Evangeline Farbridge...” Evie laughed in response, not realising what Savannah was hinting at. Savannah hid her smile, seeing her brother become all flustered. Before they arrived at the Duchy she caught him admiring something that they hadn’t seen in years.

“Hey, So Bertrand updated me on the council meeting... apparently everyone was ready to throw mom into a poison lake. Evie positively spoke about mom, defending her. Wanting to get her help, even after what happened.” Drake didn’t respond, instead he stared at the diamonds in front of him. “Drake!”

“Sorry, what?”

“Did you hear what I said about the meeting?”

“Yeah, Evie wants to get her help... I heard ya...”

“So why ignore me? Why have you got the ring out of the box?”

“If she didn’t lose the baby, we’d have been a family... I’d have asked her to become my wife as well as my child’s mom.”

“Do you want to marry her?”

“Why would she want to marry me? I failed her as a boyfriend and a father. She came over before you arrived, asked me to go to hers tomorrow to talk...”

“Anyone would be lucky to marry you Drake, you’re the most loyal person I know. Yeah you made a mistake, we all do at times- but don’t you dare blame yourself about the baby. Why are you sat around moping about? Get a shave, get your shit together and let’s go to see your girl- slumber party like the old days. You know from what I’ve heard, you two are made for each other. I don’t understand how no one saw it before- thinking back ...all the star crossed lovers act...”

“Dad knew, he confronted me about it days before he died. Telling me to fight for her.”

“Come on, use that Walker charm. Buy her some flowers on route- that usually works.”

“So what’s next on the trip down memory lane Sav?” Evie asked, for the first time in weeks she felt content with the company she had.

“Plaiting each other’s hair? I’ll go and get a brush and the bobby pins.” Standing up she enthusiastically clapped her hands, enjoying her night away from Mommy duties. Drake shook his head knowing the two women were going to go into full slumber party mode any minute now.

“Evie? I’m going to go back to the palace, before you both turn me into a sugarplum fairy...”

“You don’t have to go...”

“Trust me I do, I’m not having Savannah try and paint my nails or you attempting to plait my hair like you both used to...”

“It’s long enough now to do that... and don’t criticise my hairdressing skills Walker. If the baby was a girl, I’d be doing her hair everyday.”

“Yeah, between the two of you you’d have replaced me with our daughter to be your next girl’s world victim.” God we did torture him, what a marshmallow. He could pass off as a drag queen if myself and savannah got our hands on him right.

“She would have been asking her daddy to paint her nails, and you’d have to oblige and say yes and possibly paint your own until she had friends.” If the baby was a girl, she wouldn’t have any friends, any bitches that could hurt her, any boyfriends until she’s at least 21.

“Maybe... you’d have spoilt her rotten.” She would have been daddy’s little princess. Even if it was boy, he would have admired Drake- as Drake did with Jackson.

“I would have done. You and I are just going to be the crazy drunk aunt and uncle to the heir... although you’re already that to Bartie.” I don’t want to be known as the drunk Uncle, I wanted our baby. I still do. Winking at him she hoped he wouldn’t become offended with her comment.

“I’m not drinking anymore Evie, I poured away the whiskey. I want to prove I’m something. Something to everyone- somebody to you.” So that’s why he was pouring it away.

“Drake.. you are everything to me. That’s why it hurt so much... when you... you said you couldn’t be with me.” Fuck I’ve made her cry again, you idiot Drake. Can we get back to what we were? Try again?

Savannah overheard their conversation, her heart sunk for them- feeling guilty for keeping Bartie away from Bertrand for all that time when the two people in front of her had lost everything.

“Hey, I’m going to have to go. Barties come down with a cold.” Is that the best excuse I could come up with? “I promise we will do this again... Sooner rather than later.”

“Oh... I’m sure Bartie wants you to comfort him- I mean if it turns into a sickness bug could you imagine Bertrand’s face if his son ruined his infamous vests?” Evie laughed attempting to picture the duke as a father.

“I’ll take you back to Ramsford... goodnight Evie.” Don’t go. Please. Kissing her on the cheek, Savannah’s mind starting ticking.

“No!” Savannah snapped at the two who looked confused with her outburst.

“No?” Drake questioned his sister, usually she would take any opportunity to use him as a taxi- he kept wondering why the change of heart.

“I’ll get a taxi, you stay here with Evie. Keep her company.”

“I was just going to have an early night, don’t worry about me. Thank you for both coming.” Noticing Savannah wink at him Drake soon understood the sudden yet unexpected illness of his nephew. Fucking matchmaker Savannah, what a shame she couldn’t think like this with her own relationship.

“Evie doesn’t want me to stay here, as she said she’s having an early night. And I promised Liam a night cap.” Please don’t confirm this with Liam.

“Fuck Liam. Evie’s got plenty of beds here, you could play Goldilocks until you found the right bed. There’s plenty of food, and snacks- it’ll last you both a couple of days. Love ya both.” Before either could respond, Savannah shot out of the door and into a taxi. A couple of days? They both silently said in their minds.

“I wonder if the taxi times have become more punctual since I returned- you think about ordering one and bam it’s there.”

“You and I both know she lied about Bartie. Sneaky bitch. It doesn’t take that long to get hair accessories. I’m sorry, I’ll make you a drink and go.” I don’t want you to go. Please stay with me.

“I...” Pausing, she didn’t want to sound desperate- especially when she had avoided him as well as everyone else for weeks. “Thank you.”

Drake walked over to the kitchen island, he poured her a glass of orange juice and handed it to her. Staring down into the drink, Drake noticed her in a trance, he began to wonder what she was thinking.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. Thank you. Let me know when you get back, drive safely. I just panic after what happened with my parents.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I just didn’t want you to feel awkward if I stayed. I’ve never stopped loving you, even when you wasn’t mine. I held a torch for you, never believing that we would be more than friends.”

“I don’t want you to leave.. I didn’t feel the same when we was younger, or maybe I did but I ignored it...do you remember your dads funeral when Liv and Penny dragged me away?”

“Of course I do, I didn’t want to be around anyone but you and Sav. Why?”

Olivia whispered into Penelope’s ear, both nodding whilst smirking. Having an inkling that there was something more to Drake and Evie’s friendship- she was eager to find out the truth, even if it killed her.

“Duke Bruley, Duchess Bruley.. May we borrow Evie for a second?” They both nodded, watching as the two girls ushered their daughter away.

“You’re hurting me! What’s the matter? I should be with Savannah and Drake. They’ve just buried their father...”

“But you was with your parents...” Olivia stayed sarcastically, whilst raising her eyebrow.

“Yeah but they need me...”

“Listen Evie, you were betrothed to marry Liam. But you spend more time with them. We are going to play a little game...”

“Oohhh I like games...” Penelope smiled excitedly.

“So Evie... snog, marry or fuck... options are Liam, Maxwell and Drake...”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard, join in if you’d like Penelope.”

“Okay, so I’d snog Maxwell, marry Liam and fuck Drake... don’t tell Kiara about Drake though- she has a major crush on him..”

“Well I’d have to do all that with Liam seen as though I was being forced to marry him. Even though the betrothal isn’t planned anymore, they are still going to try their hardest for it to still happen. There are you happy?”

“No, you cheated. Answer right.”

“Liv, I’m not like you. I don’t think about things like that. Snog Maxwell, seen as though I’ve already done that...”

“And you’ve done it with Liam...”

“Your point is Pen?”

“Nothing... carry on Evie.”

“Fuck Liam, marry Drake...”

“Interesting, why?”

“Because I couldn’t chose the same as Penelope...” Olivia and Penelope looked at each other then at their friend waiting for an elaboration. “Well Liam is going to be good in bed if he’s anything like his brother unless those stories are all fake. Drake, I think he will make a protective husband... like his father was protective over them all. But none of this matters, so can we all go and support Drake and Savannah please?”

After reiterating the memory, she shook her head as she blushed. Drake looked pretty smug with her answers.

“I’m actually offended that you didn’t choose me for every one of those options..” Joking he knew she was well out of his league, she always had been- but deep down he wondered what would happen if that happened in the future, especially after his talk with his sister.

“I... shut up Drake... we really should have asked Olivia what she would have chosen...”

“Hate Drake, stab Drake and finally kill Drake... she would have cheated too...”

“That could possibly be quite true.. I’ve missed you, and your sarcasm...”

“Is that all you’ve missed? My sarcasm?”

“I’ve missed you.. I’ve missed us... I’m sorry I shut you out.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder, I still love you so much. Michaela and Alexander produced the most beautiful and strong young woman I’ve ever known. There’s something you should know... I liked them a lot, they looked after us when they didn’t need to. I want to look after you to repay them, and I’m not going to hurt you again- but if you hate me I’ll understand. The truth about your parents death....” Evie placed her fingers on his lips, not needing or wanting for him to elaborate.

“I know.. your mom caused their deaths...”

“How?”

“Constantine had the guards do an investigation into it. He didn’t believe the person who insisted they killed them. Then they confessed it was your mom- but she hadn’t returned since their deaths and he didn’t want to do anything because she was your mom and I agreed.”

“Why would you both let something like that go?”

“It was an accident Drake, she was drunk. She isn’t the Bianca we all once knew. If she would accept help, it would benefit everyone.”

“It wasn’t a damn accident Evie, stop defending her! She knew what she was fucking doing. She told me at the rehearsal, showed no remorse. That’s why I finished our relationship, I didn’t want her hurting you. But she did that anyway; not only did she kill your parents, she could have killed you, she killed our baby...”

“I know...I know... if I could turn back time.. I would in an instant...”

“I didn’t mean to shout, it’s just so frustrating...”

“It’s fine, what room are you staying in then Goldilocks?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s comfy.”

“Don’t be stupid. There’s plenty of beds as Savannah said, she should know. I think she tested them all out when she stayed on her own.” Drake knew he couldn’t argue with her, if he insisted on staying on the couch she would berate him and force him to a bed- any bed. Leading him upstairs, she showed him into the guest room next to hers.

“I think this is the best guest room, and as you’re my guest of honour you should stay here tonight. Do you need anything? Blankets? Some water? A toothbrush?”

“Stop mothering me Evie, I’m fine. I don’t need anything, but thank you.” Nodding her head, she bit her lip as he removed his jacket and top- realising she was hypnotised by his muscled body she didn’t want him to notice her gawking at him- drooling over him like a pup.

“Goodnight Walker.”

“Goodnight Bruley.” Exiting the room, Drake sat on the edge of the bed- he was glad that Savannah had insisted on coming, he and Evie had that bit of closure that they both needed. Evie stood outside the guest room, reiterating their conversations throughout the night in her mind. A sudden realisation hit, something that she had forgotten to tell him something.

“Drake?” Knocking on the door, she didn’t know how long it had been since she had said goodnight. For all she knew it could have been thirty seconds- surely he won’t be asleep yet.

“Did you forget something? Are you okay?”

“You know when we was talking about my parents death and you told me that you still love me? Well I forgot to tell you that I still love you too..” He lent down, his lips brushed against her cheek lightly and hesitantly- his touch sent shivers through her body. Even though he had kissed her on the cheek before throughout the night this time was different. Reaching up, she pulled him down to her, guiding his lips onto hers- no time for words to escape his mouth or hers as they were lost within each other. As his arms circled her, gathering her against him, he bent his knees slightly and picked her up. Evie wrapped her legs around him- as the kissing continued. Carrying her over to the bed, he wanted more- of course he did, he had missed her. But he had spent time researching recovery time after a miscarriage and traumatic injuries. Laying her gently on the bed, he laid next to her- Evie placed her head on his chest, draping her arms around him.

“Can I stay here with you?”

“You don���t need to ask me, it’s your home. You make the decisions. But I’d like you to stay with me.”

“Makes a change from my room.” Sitting up she took her clothes off, leaving just her underwear on- not being bothered to walk to her room for pajamas. As she did this and discarded the clothes on the floor, Drake noticed the scar on her abdomen.

“Don’t look at it, please. It’s horrible, it makes my body ugly.” Natural instinct made him lean down, and kiss the scar tenderly.

“No it doesn’t. It shows how strong you are.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently holding her in his embrace. She immediately sunk into the warmth of his body- feeling loved once again. Within minutes, Drake suddenly realised that she had fallen asleep.

“I love you.” He whispered, not expecting her to hear it- but he just wanted her know.

Oh once in your life you find someone

Who will turn your world around

Bring you up when you're feelin' down

Yeah nothin' could change what you mean to me

Oh there's lots that I could say

But just hold me now

'Cause our love will light the way

And baby, you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

****

Savannah arrived at Ramsford and was greeted by everyone, all hoping that she had some news.

“What took you so long?” Riley asked, with the others also wondering this. They had expected her to return hours ago.

“Well you can’t just turn up, and expect them to get back together in an instant. It takes time. She seemed comfortable in our company. I lied saying Bartie was ill, or I’d have still been there. And Drake lied about having an arrangement to meet you Liam for a nightcap. I overheard them talking about the baby, imagining that it was a girl... they didn’t seem upset, it was closure.. that both of them needed. What’s happening with Mom Liam? Not that I care, I just know Evie would regret what she said.”

“Well Bianca did expose something in a malicious way. I’ve held off on the punishments for them both for now. Did you leave the letter and boarding tickets?”

“Of course I did, I left them on her bed. I did it discretely.”

“If that’s a dig at me Sav, I’d have done it discretely too...” They all looked at Maxwell, eyebrows raised before bursting out laughing- knowing that he would have failed the task- or was too eager to spill the surprise that they had all planned after the council meeting.

“I propose a toast to my soon to be brother in law and Duchess Evangeline..” Bertrand said, smirking- proud of his fiancées actions.

“May the two of them find happiness once again, and both stop being so stubborn.”

#trr #trr fanfic #trr choices #trr we belong #drake x mc #drake x evie #drake walker #trr evie bruley #trr savannah #liam rhys #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #trr penelope #bertrand beaumont #riley brooks

[linkispink1995]

Better as friends (12) trying for forgiveness

Previously

Series masterlist

Chapter warnings : language , angst , Alison being Alison

As I began to walk over and quietly took the seat across from her , I then realized that there were papers on the table. It then dawned on me that they were the papers I had written to Steve. Alison then finally spoke saying "I think we need to talk Y/n". I quickly responded saying "Alison I'm so sorry , nobody was supposed to see it and I-" she cut me off saying "you know I think you should quit your job and become a writer because this story is pretty interesting". I spoke again saying "it's not a story " I then began to wonder how she acquired the paper and why she was here instead of Steve so I asked. "Where is Steve , I mean I was supposed to meet Steve" she answered saying "your right you were supposed to meet Steve , until I found these" she gestured to the papers before adding "do you know where I found these" I shook my head causing her to say "well it's a funny story , I was doing laundry and I found these in the your son's pocket , oh you know what It's not really that funny". My face then fell in shock since Jackson told me that he didn't take it , and he had never lied to me like this before maybe a little one but never something like this. Alison then added "Steve doesn't know about it , and Jackson dosen't know I have it so your little plan didn't work" I shrugged in confusion saying "what plan" she huffed saying "you know , putting the paper in the in his pocket knowing Steve did the laundry and that he'd find it , do you honestly think after reading this garbage he'd go back to you". I shook my head saying "there was no plan and-" she cut me off saying "when did you write it" I responded saying "the Wednesday before Thanksgiving" she nodded saying "so Steve meets me and all the sudden you write this". I shook my head saying "no , I didn't know you meet and I threw it away so Steve wouldn't see it" Alison nodded again saying "you right Y/n , Steve won't see it" Alison then picked the paper of the table before tearing it into pieces meaning all the time I had spent and the words of love and compassion I had wrote were gone. Alison spoke again saying " don't understate me Y/n , I'm not going anywhere and I know everything , so don't think you still have a chance". I then remembered our conversation yesterday and who exactly walked in on it so I said "Mr. Harrington , he heard and maybe Steve wouldn't believe him but he'd believe his mother" Alison chuckled at my words which was the first time I heard her laugh and I didn't really like it. She then spoke up saying "so what , I give Steve a frown and maybe some tears and he's on my side" my jaw feel in surprise of her words as she added "oh and don't bother telling Steve cause I doubt he'd believe you over me. Cause he loves me and he never loved you , he was just in love with the idea of being in love with you" she then added "an now that you've told your story , I'll tell mine. Once upon a time there was a little girl with parents who wanted the best for her , the best schools , best jobs , the best anything . They never liked any of my boyfriends , but then one day I meet someone , handsome , sweet , somewhat smart but not really. I met his son , he was sweet and I then went to lunch with this man and all he could talk to me about was you , and I ignored it and then this perfect man lost his job and now watches his kid. Jackson's a sweet kid but Steve gonna to get a job I'm going to make him get a job , and were going to live happily ever after and your not". My jaw fell as she finished , I then spoke saying "Steve's not stupid he'll figure you out" she shook her head saying "if he can't figure out your in love with him , he probably won't figure out what I'm doing" I then spat the only words I could think of which were "Jackson dosen't like you" she shook her head at my words and then got up from her spot saying "I wouldn't have said that , oh and I forgot my wallet so enjoy the check".

After my lunch with Alison I walked into my apartment to see Robin and Jackson sitting on my couch , after peeling my shoes off I entered the living room causing Robin to say. "How was lunch with dingus" I sighed saying "Jackson go to your room please I need to talk to aunt Robin" he nodded before running down the hall. I took a seat next to Robin as she asked "are you okay" I didn't respond , I dug out the remains of the paper that Alison ripped and laid them onto the coffee table as Robin added "what are those". I sighed feeling a tear come onto my cheek as I said "that's it , that's the paper I wrote for Steve or what's left of it". Robin frowned saying "Steve had it" I shook my head saying "No , Alison did" Robin furrowed her brows saying "but how" I responded saying. "Jackson had it , and she found it" Robin sighed saying "well of we get some tape and put this together and-" I cut her off saying. "Forget it Robin , it's over she won". Robin shook her head saying "no it's not , talk to Steve figure this out don't let her win" I respond saying "I just don't know why Jackson would take that". She shrugged saying "just talk to him , he'll talk to you" I nodded as she added "but can I try to put this back together" I sighed saying "you can try , but don't worry if you can't". She responded with "oh and I tweaked my plan , so I think I give it like a ninety percent chance" I sighed hearing her comment. A few hours after Robin left and we had somewhat put the paper back together , I was tucking Jackson into bed when I decided to ask. "Jackson do you remember when I said I was looking for a paper". Jackson quickly responded saying "no I don't" I nodded saying "are you sure". He responded quickly again saying "yes" , I then said "Jackson I don't want you to look at me and tell me that you didn't take that paper out of the trash". I then saw tears from in his eyes as he said "I'm sorry mommy , I didn't know it was important I just thought-" I quickly pulled him into my arms saying "it's okay baby , I'm not mad at you I just wanna know if you took it", he nodded again adding. "What was it mommy , was it important". I sighed saying "it dosen't matter , and I'm not mad at you it's just you know that we don't lie okay". He nodded saying "okay mommy , I love you" I nodded saying "I love you too" I then kissed his forehead before saying "goodnight , get some sleep okay". He nodded before saying "goodnight mommy".

The following morning

It was a little after nine when the sounds of knocking came from my front door signaling Steve was here , I walked over to the door calling out to Jackson " Jackson , daddy's here". When I opened the front door Steve was quiet and was stairing at his shoes , I gestured for him to come in which he did before Jackson ran into his arms. I left the two and went back to the kitchen to grab my coffee when I heard a voice say "I just don't get it". I turned to see Steve causing me to shrug at his words as he added "I'm honestly not surprised , you know I was hesitant about Alison and you going to lunch alone but she told me not to worry, but I was right about you". I responded saying "right about what" Steve huffed saying "oh cut the bull Y/n , your jealous of Alison" I scoffed at his accusation as he added "and then you had to drag our son into this". My jaw fell as I realized what Alison meant yesterday by saying I shouldn't have told her about Jackson feelings towards her. Steve then said "yeah guilt is wonderful thing , you know she was pretty upset I mean I just don't understand you , first you make up some whole lie about Jackson not liking her and then you and Matt are gonna take some stupid trip and-" I cut him off saying "I knew it , I knew you were listening to Matt and I's conversation". He sighed saying "oh please don't act like the victim , you were the one who brought a five year old into an argument he didn't need to be in". I rolled my eyes before grabbing my bag saying "you know what Alison's right you do need a job , cause your done watching him and we can go back to the old schedule" I then walked into the living room before kissing Jackson's forehead and walking out the front door.

Steve's p.o.v

After Y/n practically slammed the door in my face again , I walked into the livingroom to put my head in my hands as Jackson quietly entered the livingroom before saying "daddy" I huffed saying "what Jackson". He responded saying "are we going to the park today" I shook my head saying "no" he nodded before saying "are you okay daddy". I knew I wasn't but I also knew I couldn't tell him that , he was only five , he wouldn't understand so I nodded as he added. "Are you sure" I nodded again saying "yeah I'm sure". Jackson spoke again saying "daddy can I tell you something" I nodded saying "yeah go ahead" he nodded saying "daddy I um , nevermind" I huffed again saying "Jackson just talk" he shook his head saying "no you'll be mad" I rolled my eyes saying "I won't , just talk" he quickly responded saying "I don't like Miss Alison" my jaw feel as I realized that he must've been trying to stick up for Y/n. I then shook my head saying "Jackson I don't know what mommy told you but-" he cut me off saying "mommy said that I have to tell you" I huffed saying "Jackson I love you but I need to know , do you like Alison" he shook his head as I asked "can you tell me why". He nodded before saying "cause now everything is different" I sighed as he added "are you mad at me like you are mommy". I shook my head saying "no I'm not but the lying needs to stop" he shook his head saying "but I'm not" I shook my head again saying "Jackson I know that you like Alison and I know mommy is trying to make you think you don't but you do , I know you do". He shook his head saying "no I don't , you don't know" he then mumbled some words under his breath so I asked. "What was that" he rolled his eyes saying "forget it" I huffed saying "Jackson Micheal Harrington you will answer me". He shook his head causing me to say "you know what you can either go to your room or you'll answer me" he ignored my words and insisted he walked back to his bedroom causing me to stand up and yell from down the hallway "and you can stay there until you can talk to me".

A few hours later and Jackson still had yet to come from his bedroom and I began to panic , was I to hard on him , did I scare him. I felt like I was gonna be sick and I began to think maybe he was telling the truth but why or how could he not like Alison. She was sweet and funny , she was perfect not to mention how great she was with Jackson and now all the sudden he didn't like her. I then walked down the hallway before knocking on Jackson's door saying "hey buddy , it's daddy can we talk". He quickly responded saying "no" I sighed saying "we can go to the park now" I got no response so I added "or hey there's Benny's we can go to Benny's you like that and get some ice cream" I still got no response so I continued with "what about a movie , or go see Mimi". Nothing I got nothing , no response I then asked "can I come in" Jackson spoke again saying "no , go away". I took the seat next to the door before saying "Jackson come on , let's talk" he answered saying "I said no , I'm still mad at you" I leaned my head against the wall as I tried to figure a way to get him to open him up to me. I seriously considered getting him a puppy in that moment but I didn't know how Y/n would feel about the two of us getting into an argument and then her coming home to a surprise like that. I then spoke saying "can I tell you a story" he then finally responded something other than no , he spoke saying "okay". I let out a sigh of relief that he spoke to me as I added "do you have one in mind or can I-" he then interrupted saying "I want one about you and mommy happy together". I sat in the silence before saying "okay I got a good one"

*Flashback*

I knocked on the door if the hospital before hearing a voice say "come in" I instantly recognized her voice , I opened the door to see Y/n lying in a hospital bed with a small baby lying against her chest , our baby. Y/n finally spoke saying "you can come in" I nodded before walking out of the doorway and took a seat in the chair by the bed. I quietly sat there taking in the beautiful view before Y/n spoke again saying "you can come sit with us". I nodded before taking the small spot on the bed before placing my hand on the baby's back and began to stroke there back in the same motion as Y/n was causing our hands to brush against each other before Y/n asked. "Do you wanna hold him" my jaw feel saying "him" Y/n nodded saying "it's a boy , just like you wanted" I nodded as she added "I wish you were there". I nodded again saying "I know and I'm so sorry and I promise that I'll be there from now on" I then snuggled into the crook of Y/n's neck to get a better look at the peacefully asleep baby as I placed a kiss on Y/n's chin before I added "your amazing" Y/n then repeating her question from earlier saying "do you wanna hold him". I nodded as she help situation him in my arms causing him to stit a bit , after he was situated I said "how are you feeling" she shrugged saying "tired I guess" I nodded saying "he's so little" causing Y/n to giggle saying "four pounds , that's less than a bag of potatoes" I chuckled at her words before I asked "does he have a name". She shook her head saying "no , I wanted for you" I nodded saying "well are there any you like". Y/n nodded saying "Well it's a tie between Jackson and -" I cut her off saying "I like Jackson" Y/n responded saying "you do" I nodded saying "yeah I really do". I then pecked her cheek before Jackson began to stir again finally starting to open his eyes only for me to see there were brown like mine. I went to say something else to Y/n but I looked down to see that she had fallen asleep on my shoulder and that's when the words fell right from my mouth "I love you"

***Flashback over***

After telling Jackson the story everything went quiet again , I knocked on his bedroom door , after not getting a response I opened his door to see Jackson had fallen asleep on his bed with his blanket. I walked over and kissed his forehead before walking out of his room , after leaving Jackson I took a seat on the couch an began to feel even more guilt than I did earlier , why did listen in on Y/n and Matt's conversation and why all of the sudden they were going on a trip together and most importantly why do I care. As my head began to fill with these thoughts my eyes began to droop since I hadn't gotten much sleep since I was up half the night with a crying Alison , which was another thing I began to think of was how Alison was really upset but maybe was she too upset.

I jolted awake after feeling someone shake my arm as I opened my eyes it was Jackson with what looked to be something behind his back. I looked at my watch seeing it was almost five o'clock , I sat up and yawned rubbing some of the sleep out of my eyes before the curiosity of what was behind Jackson's back got to me , "what'd you have there buddy". He frowned before handing me what looked like a torn up peice of paper that someone tried to tape back together "what is this" I asked , Jackson sighed saying "something of mommy's" I responded saying "are you supposed to take stuff out of mommy's room , I-" he cut me off saying "it was in the trash". Before I could say anything else he added "I think it's important" I nodded saying "does mommy know you have this" he nodded saying "yes , but I don't know how since I hid it very well". I nodded before saying "let's talk about this after dinner" he nodded before I crammed the paper into my pocket for after dinner.

As I began clearing the plates of the table I heard the sound the front door opening and closing signaling that Y/n was home , Jackson the dinning room to greet her. As I put the dishes in the sink I heard a voice say "hi" I turned to see Y/n standing in the doorway of the kitchen , I responded saying "hey , how was work". She nodded saying "okay , how was he" I sighed saying "good we had a couple of hiccups but it was good" she responded saying "what kind of hiccups" I sighed saying "just a small one it doesn't really matter though" Y/n then asked "what happened Steve" I shook my head before saying "nothing , don't worry". Y/n rolled her eyes saying "Steve either you tell me or I ask Jackson" I signed saying "we had a little disagreement" , she shrugged saying "you got into an argument with a five year old" I shook my head saying "no , not an argument , just a disagreement about , nevernind". Y/n sighed saying "about , what" I shook my head saying "nothing , and I wanted to talk to you about earlier" Y/n sighed again as I added "I'm sorry , I shouldn't have listened to your conversation that was rude and I-" Y/n cut me off saying "what did you two disagree about". I responded saying "okay we had a tiny , very minor disagreement about Alison and we've talked and I think I've fixed it". Y/n nodded before raying "and thank you for apologizing" I responded saying "and now that I've apologized do you think maybe you -" Y/n cut me off saying "I'm not apologizing , you were way out of line Steve". I rolled my eyes saying "you know what Y/n , I've apologized and now your not going to act like you didn't attack Alison yesterday" . Y/n huffed saying "forget it Steve , I'll see you on Saturday" I rolled my eyes again saying "yeah and maybe this time you can behave" I then walked out the door before slamming it. After getting in my car I leaned my head against the seat before pulling my keys out of my pocket not only to find them but the paper from earlier. I then realized that I hadn't spoken to Jackson about it I crammed it into my pocket before pulling out of the parking lot.

I opened the front door of my apartment before putting my jacket up I took a seat on the couch before pulling the paper out . I wasn't sure if I should read it or not , there couldn't be any harm in me reading it , it wasn't important right. As I began to read it , Alison walked into the livingroom taking a seat next to me before saying "what is that" I sighed saying "something of Jackson's" she then leaned over to look at it saying "can I have a look" I shook my head before saying "yeah when I'm done". Alison frowned saying "why don't I have it and I'll read it to you" I shook my head saying "no I think I know how to read" Alison sighed saying " I know but you've had a long day and-" I interrupted her saying "Alison , why do you want to read this so bad" she rolled her eyes before looking at the paper saying "he's got pretty good handwriting for a five year old" , It almost makes me wonder who that really belongs too". I sighed before putting it back in my pocket causing Alison to say "aren't you gonna read that" I shook my head saying "yeah I'll read it later". She nodded as I began to think about what Y/n said earlier so I asked "Alison , do you think I should get a job" she quickly nodded as I added "but I watch Jackson" she nodded again saying "yes but you don't get paid to do that" I sighed saying "no I don't but I get to spend time with my son" she nodded saying "it's up to you , but I think we'd both be happier if you did" I responded saying "yeah but-" she cut me off saying "Steve were done talking about this" I nodded as I began to wonder why Alison wanted to look at that paper and most importantly what was on it...

Feedback is appreciated , please do not plagiarize my work. Thanks -meg

Taglist @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @queenofthehairharrington

#dad steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #dad! steve x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au

[siempre-pedro]

Thunder and Lightning aren’t so Frightening

Dad!Joe Mazzello x Reader 

Summary: A bad storm comes through upstate New York, the loud never-ending thunder scaring Joe and Y/N’s 6-year-old daughter. Joe being the wonderful father he is, helps her conquer her fear.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I haven’t written in FOREVER. I haven’t had the inspiration I'm so sorry.  it's storming out like crazy tonight so i wrote a little thing. Please forgive mistakes, i’m too tired to edit properly! 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN 

Joe loved family reunions, the whole family getting together all staying in his mom’s house uptown. He loved everything except for the branch that tapped the window when it stormed, just like tonight. His eyes scanned the patchy black letters of his script in the dimly lit bedroom, the printer must be running out of ink. His wife snoring peacefully in his lap with her arm wrapped protectively around his waist. His other land ran through her soft hair, the storm not waking her. That said storm made that stupid branch screech so loud in his ear, he couldn’t focus on the words he’d swore he’d read the same sentence a good ten times.

A lightning bolt shot across the sky causing the bedroom to light up as if it was daylight. Joe smiled in satisfaction at the amount of light but that smile dropped when he realized what was coming. A loud crack of thunder shook the walls, Y/N gasped as she woke and clutched onto her husband “Are you alight, Babe?” he asks, rubbing her arm soothingly. She nods and peels herself off of him, pushing her tangled hair out of her face.

She scans the room before looking out the window and the storm that was growing stronger “I’m fine... it’s really coming down huh?” she yawns.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “Phone says worst of the year so far,” he answers as he checks the weather report on his phone.

“We should go check Claire,” she tells him, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. Claire wasn’t afraid of a lot, but she hated thunder with a passion. Last year she cried all night when a storm hit in Brooklyn, she thought the lightning was going to knock down their building.

“I’ll go, you go back to sleep,” Joe grumbles as he sat his script on the nightstand, pulling off the covers. His back cracks as he raises his arms over his head, his feet sliding along the wood floors. The hall was lit from the lightning strikes, his fingers trace along the wall as he walks to her room that she shared with one of her cousins.

Her cousin slept peacefully in one of the twin beds, the other one was empty with the pink blanket halfway on the ground where the hell was she? Oe narrowed his eyes and flipped on the light, walking to the closet he opened it. The 6 year old sat with her stuffed bunny clutched to her chest tightly, tears filled the eyes that matched the color of her fathers “Oh, Honey,” Joe sighs as he sees her.

“The th-thunders going to eat me,” she cries. Joe swiftly scoops her into his arms, her head buried in the nape of his neck.

“Thunder and lightning aren’t so frighting,” he whispers as a small chant as he bounces her. He looks up at the closet and grabs a gray blanket before taking her outside of the room. Her small hands grip the back of his shirt, her heart racing as he walks down the stairs the sound of the rain grew louder on the roof.

Joe sets her down and kneels in front of her, wrapping the blanket around her shoulder. Claire tugs the huge blanket to keep it closed “Alright Claire Bear, we’re going outside. I want to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She imagined World War III on the outside of the house, the shadows of the trees and flashes of lightning on the glass “I’m scared, Daddy,” she whispers, her lower lip quivering.

Joe stands up and takes her back in his arms “It’s going to be ok,” he reminds her softly as he opens the door, the misty wind hitting his face. He calmly walks to the white wooden porch swing that was thankfully covered by the roof awning. Claire’s tiny body shakes as a small clap of thunder sounds off from the sky. Joe’s constant affirmations in her ear help the terror-filled shakes “Mr. Baker’s about to lose his trash can,” Joe notices with a chuckle in his voice. The green garbage across the street can was the only can still standing on the street. Well, it was until a gust of wind finally knocked it over, the trash (thankfully still in the white plastic bags) didn’t spill onto the wet street.

Claire’s eyes moved from her father's chest and looked at the fallen can, her pink lips perking up into a smile “It’s going to smell,” she laughs. She shifts so that she could face the street, the mist of the fallen rain being swept by the wind made her eyes follow. It was really pretty, the leaves were wet and there was a small puddle she could see where it was still clear at the bottom. The still rocks and blades of green grass were enchanting. “It’s pretty outside,” she whispers, her voice soon claming up from another clap of thunder.

“It’s ok, Claire Bear. Watch the sky, the bigger the lightning the louder the thunder,” he tells her, his hands covering her ears just in case. Was the information accurate? Hell, he didn’t know but it was fun to sound like a smart dad.

A small bolt of lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the dark puffy clouds “That one was small!” she informs loudly. Joe smiles and slowly starts to release his hands, her nose crinkles in anticipation. The thunder was quiet, making Claire’s shoulders relax, her back melting into Joe’s chest.

“Now for the nest one! After we see the lightning we’re going to count how many seconds it takes for the thunder to get here.” Claire nods and put’s his hands back over her ears, her heads tilting up to the sky. After a few moments, a large and bright lightning strike appeared in the sky, she started to count quietly.

“One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Missippi, fou-” A loud crack of sound interrupts her counting, she jolts in chock but starts to smile. Her head whips around to face her amused father “Three Mississippi's Daddy!” she cheers.

“That means it’s almost a mile away!”

They play the game for what seems hours, the cold starts to tingle his clothed feet. Her jolts and gasps turn into bounces of joy and giggles while she counts the thunder and lightning, and soon enough his hands were no longer needed to cover her ears.

The screen door a few feet away blows open, Y/N gasp alerts them as she tries to force it closed while she tries to tie her comfortable pink robe “Hi Mama!” Claire greets happily. Y/N smiles tiredly and sits next to her husband.

Joe takes his finger and wipes a few strands of hair out of her face “Did the storm wake you?” he asks gently.

“No, that damn branch did,” she curses, rolling her eyes, Joe laughs and kisses her temple. The storm was raging on as did the thunder and lightning “How did you calm her down?”

“We made it a game, she’s been occupied this whole time,” Joe explains proudly, his hands tickle Claire’s sides “Honey, tell Mommy about the game.”

“Ok, ok! So! When we see the lightening we have to count a Mississippi for every second until we hear the thunder. If it gets to five it’s a mile away.” The joy in her voice brings tears to Y/N Y/E/C eyes, she wipes them with her sleeve and looks at them both lovingly.

“Father of the year,” she grins.

“I’ve held this record every year for 5 years, I won’t lose the 6th,” he jokes.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello fanfiction #fanfiction #borhap #bohemian rhapsody

[welllpthisishappening]

All Was Golden in the Sky (6/27)

Magic is dying.

Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away.

To New York City.

And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

—

Rating: Mature AN: Hey, thanks for reading, internet. It’s real nice. This is one of my favorite chapters. Lots happens. Like. Lots. Also, casual suggestion, but if you’re looking for music to listen to while reading this, I played Movement by Hozier and Bulletproof Heart by My Chemical Romance on, like, loop while I wrote it. I also almost used lyrics from Bulletproof Heart to name this story! It’ll make sense why I didn’t soon’ish. As always @resident-of-storybrooke @distant-rose and @bmbbcs4evr continue to be the best.

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam || 

The air is cooler as soon as she sits down, but it’s far from silent. 

Still. This stupid city feels like it’s alive, even at whatever time it might happen to be, and Emma’s eyes aren’t particularly pleased with all the light she suddenly has to contend with. It’s everywhere – in windows on the other side of the block and from lamps that hang over a mostly empty street. It flickers from red to yellow to green, little pinpricks from a phone in someone’s hand just underneath Emma’s right foot. 

It flashes from a plane far above her, people going about their lives without any knowledge of the rest of it, a story Emma isn’t sure she understands anymore, but knows she’s at the very center of. It’s everywhere she looks, bits of white and dots of warmth, energy and electricity and a sign of home in a darkness that feels a little manufactured. 

As if it’s not actually real. 

As if it’s not actually a threat. 

As if she can do something about it. 

Emma takes a deep breath, slow and measured and it’s awful because she’s come to realize that the air in this city doesn’t smell like salt, but like garbage and sweat and far too many people, but she needs something to center herself, particularly when she can feel the rush of everything moving down both her arms. 

She shakes them at her side, flipping both her wrists and the light that appears in either one of her palms isn’t particularly bright. It hums, though, its own pulse that makes Emma laugh softly because it’s not desperate. There’s no spark, no flare, nothing that isn’t the absolute control she knows she needs for this to work. 

“That’s impressive.”

Emma’s teeth find her lip – but it’s not nerves, so much as it is butterflies. She glances over her shoulder to find Killian smiling at her, mussed hair and that same look she’s starting to covet just a bit because she’s starting to realize, just a bit, that he only ever uses it when he’s looking her direction. 

“You were asleep two seconds ago.” He hums, moving through the window with far more grace than he should be allowed to have. The entire fire escape wobbles precariously when he sits down. “Fuck,” he breathes, working another laugh out of her. “Don’t do that, Swan. This is--God, what would possess you to come out here? This is a death trap.” “What, are you scared?” “Of falling to my doom before we can even try to save the world? Yes, obviously.” “You’re very dramatic, you know that?” “I think I’m pointing out some precarious parts of your escape plan, that’s all.”

The butterflies disappear. Immediately. Oh. Oh. “I’m not running,” Emma whispers, eyes falling to hands that are suddenly absent of any magic. 

“No?” “No. Just...thinking.” “Well, I’ll give you a penny for them.” “I promise, they’re not worth that much.” “I don’t know about that, love,” Killian says, tugging her hand back to his side and the plastic there is cool under her fingers. It’s been happening more, she’s noticed, the willingness to let her touch his hand and the realization leaves her a little light-headed, like he’s trusting her with this part of him, letting her in and giving her more than a few pillows for her head. 

It’s an admittedly jumbled metaphor. 

“Do you think it’s possible?” Emma asks. “Another realm? People we can’t remember.” “Pirates and princesses, you mean?” She nods, not sure she what to do with the catch in his voice, but Killian doesn’t object when she lets her head fall on his shoulder and she hadn’t expected him to. “Maybe. I...I don’t know, Swan. I can remember things and I can’t. Moments that make no sense at all, but feel like they have to be true because I don’t know what I’ll do if they’re not.” “But?” “How do you know there was a but?” “How did you know I was out here?” “Fair,” he chuckles. “But. If it is true, then there has to be some truth to what that sea witch says and I can’t--I don’t want to be that person. No matter how much you might be willing to forgive.” “Again, she was trying to drown us with a soda gun,” Emma reasons. “Maybe she was just an asshole and a villain. Plus, I don’t...I’m certainly not a princess. That’s…” She’s rambling, it can’t possibly be attractive. Killian’s still smiling. “Well, you remember being in the Navy, right? That could work. Whatever I am and...the naval officer.” “Doesn’t have quite the same ring as pirate and princess, does it?” She rolls her eyes. “You’re blowing holes in my theories again.” “Not on purpose,” he promises. “Why don’t you think the princess thing makes sense?” “Are you kidding?” “Humor me.” Emma groans, but she wants to keep talking and sitting here and she knows something is happening. Something big. “I don’t know how I got to Storybrooke. I’ve been trying to remember and I...I can’t, but now I keep having these moments and it’s not--it feels real. You knew exactly how to get me to calm down when my magic freaked and you can feel my magic and--" The words don’t come, just a weird, half-noise of disappointment and being alone and he’s going to set a record for emotionally-charged hand kisses in a twenty-four hour period. 

“The princess and the naval officer,” Killian murmurs, keeping his head ducked and his lips against Emma’s skin. “You think we went to many balls?” “Are you trying to get me to invite you to balls, Lieutenant?” 

She blushes. It’s ridiculous. And Emma can feel the smile become a smirk, a quick twist of lips and another nip against her knuckles, but she’s barely got time to process that before they’re moving and the fire escape is creaking again and Killian’s hand falls on her waist with practiced ease. 

“I believe, your highness, I’m asking you to dance.” “What?” Emma asks, and she can’t believe her voice actually has the gall to crack. 

“Was that confusing?” “You were worried about the fire escape leading to a very bloody, very violent demise two seconds ago. Now you want to dance?” “I never used the word bloody.” “Oh my God.” “C’mon,” he goads, and they’re already swaying slightly. There’s no music, no rhythm except the one the city exudes and Emma’s never had a moment like this. 

At least not in this realm. 

Time seems to pause, lets them stay right where they are, close enough that their toes brush and their thighs press together and Emma doesn’t argue when Killian moves her hand to his shoulder. “You have to work on your form, Swan,” he murmurs, pressing the words to the side of her cheek. “Luckily for you, I’m more than adept.”

“Awfully confident too.” He hums, fingers still curled around hers and there’s a warmth there that doesn’t feel exactly natural. In a good way. The best way. A possibly magical sort of way. Killian’s hand drifts over her side, the fabric of Emma’s shirt twisting under his touch and neither one of them acknowledge how loud her quick inhale is. 

That’s probably for the best. 

“It’s a crime you don’t know how to do this,” he murmurs, swaying turning to rocking. 

“Disappointed?” “Not in you. In whatever royal court you grew up in.”

Emma laughs – mostly because the idea of her and royal in the same sentence is so absolutely, positively absurd she can’t even begin to consider another reaction, but then she tilts her head up and she’s almost positive the lights are reflecting off the actual emotion hanging in the air and...well, maybe. 

They’re still moving, slow steps that don’t shake, but move with practiced ease. Killian’s hand shifts every so often, drifting up and down her side and tracing along the ridge of her spine and Emma isn’t sure if he realizes he’s doing it, but it might be even better if that’s true. As if he’s simply trying to make sure that she’s there. 

“Is there a pattern we’re following here, Lieutenant?” 

Killian’s lips twitch, a flash in his gaze that makes Emma’s eyes widen. Her gaze flickers up, tracing across his face like she’s looking for clues to a mystery she didn’t initially realize she was determined to solve. “It’s called a waltz,” he says, a soft lilt in his voice that she’s starting to notice more and more. 

Usually when he’s teasing her. 

He seems to like doing that. 

She doesn’t mind all that much either. 

And maybe is starting to feel more and more like probably. Or even hopefully. 

“Right, right, right,” Emma mutters. There’s a siren somewhere. She can hear people talking on the sidewalk below them, that same hum of city-life and actual living making its way back to her ears and her soul and her magic jumps, twisting through the spaces between her ribs and wrapping around the joints in her elbows and her knees and Killian’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. 

“And where, exactly, did you get such impeccable lessons?” “The Navy, obviously,” he answers, not quite smug, but still decidedly teasing. Emma rolls her eyes. His eyebrows are absurd. “Can’t have her highness embarrassed by her men, you see.”

“Are you suggesting I have more than one man? Impertinent.”

He might wink – at least tries, it’s more just a scrunch of his nose and an exaggerated blink, but it’s also kind of endearing in a way that makes Emma certain Ursula must have been lying through her teeth. “I hope not,” Killian says, no trace of anything except honesty in every single letter. 

Emma’s been holding her breath. She hadn’t realized. 

“No, there wasn’t,” Emma mutters. Past tense. She doesn’t realize that immediately either. And it’s idiotic to push, absurd to move out of this moment or the easy motion she and Killian have settled into, but she’s curious and worried and she wants. That’s all there is to it. “What did you see before?” she asks. “When the seeress was here and--” “--You called me babe.” “I’m serious.”

Killian’s laugh seems to fall off him, a quick nod and slight squeeze of his hand. “It was awful,” he says. “It was...like being torn and twisted and it felt like it was never going to stop. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. It was just dark. And everything hurt.” “I’m so sorry.” “That’s not your fault, Swan.” “I don’t--” “--It’s not,” Killian cuts in sharply, and Emma nearly swallows her tongue. Her tongue is really becoming a problem for her. “None of this is your fault. And you’re going to fix it, save everyone and then some.” “I don’t know if there’s a some after everyone.” He grins – and it almost reaches his eyes, not quite perfectly blue anymore. It’s probably a trick of the light. “Touché.”

They’re not moving. They’re frozen on that rickety fire escape with hints of a past that might actually be a dream and villains and magic. Too much magic. Emma feels as if she’s going to burst with the force of it.  

“What’s your favorite place here?”

Killian’s eyebrows furrow, confusion obvious in that pinch between his eyebrows. The gust of wind that moves down the block is sudden, making Emma’s knees wobble slightly and she refuses to give credence to the soft suspicion in the back of her mind – it doesn’t feel particularly natural. 

“What?” “Here,” Emma repeats, jerking her head back like that will make it more obvious. “This city. You said--well, you aren’t from here, right?” His eyebrows, somehow, get even lower, a move that makes his actual eyes turn into slits and Emma does her best not to focus on whatever is happening the general region of her lungs. The wind hasn’t stopped, might be gusting even more, honestly, a sudden heaviness to the air that is even less natural. 

She’s almost gotten used to the smell of this city, and it’s been warm recently, the last few hints of summer hanging on before the leaves start to change, which very likely only adds to the overall scent of most of Manhattan, but this, this, whatever smell she’s breathing in now, it’s not right. 

It’s rotten. It’s decay. And disappointment. It’s loneliness. She wasn’t aware loneliness had a specific scent until that very moment, but Emma knows she’s right. She’d remember that particular emotion anywhere – is far too well acquainted with it herself, but she’s not entirely sure where it’s coming from. She can feel it though, with every breath she takes, quick inhales and slightly desperate exhales, an emptiness that fills her and makes her magic rise up in defense. The shadows at her feet extend. 

Killian blinks, a quick shake of his head and slight grimace that he probably doesn’t want Emma to see. “No, I’m not,” he says, voice clipped. “And?” “And what? I told you already, Swan. I was everywhere. After my brother died, I--” He huffs, all frustration and...loneliness. Again. 

The shadows look like they’re wrapping around Killian’s legs. 

“Are you planning on taking in the sights and sounds of New York after saving the world, then?” Killian asks, and Emma isn’t entirely prepared for the whiplash in his tone. It’s not the harsh sound it had been a few seconds before. It’s softer, enthusiastic even, like a kid who would go outside in the snow even when he knew it would end with freezing fingers and toes. If only so he could have a few moments of fun. 

Of something that was his. 

Or, maybe, theirs. 

Emma is clearly a sentimental weirdo when presented with the challenge of saving the world. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, which is only kind of cowardly, but the conversation suddenly seems even more than it was and they were dancing a few minutes ago. Dancing. She can’t remember the last time she danced. She can’t remember the last time she wanted to. 

“But you’re curious.” “About several thousand things,” Emma grumbles. “Right now, though I’m just--I don’t know, wondering, I guess. About you and--” “--You?” “It’s confusing when you use the same word in the sentence like that.” “Fair, fair. My use of the word you was really more directed at...well, you.” He clicks his teeth when she groans, a distinct lack of frustration in the sound because the sound might actually be flirting and they should never have stopped dancing. “I guess what I’m saying is that I understand it. Wanting to know.” “You don’t think that’s weird?” Killian makes a noise in the back of his throat, not quite an agreement, but certainly not a disagreement. It’s an oddly satisfying middle point. “I think it could be, but I’m almost confident it won’t be.” “Confusing.” “Nah,” he objects. “For one thing I’m pretty sure you’re brilliant and--” “--Oh flattery is a very good look on you, Lieutenant.” His ears go red and his lips press together and Emma wouldn’t say she preens exactly, but it is very, very close. 

“It’s not flattery when it’s true, Swan.” If she gets any closer to him she’s going to step on his shoes. And, not for the first time, Emma wishes there weren’t three other people in that apartment or that pesky fate of the world and magic thing hanging over their head, because she’s admittedly very curious and has more than a few thoughts regarding a lack of shirts. “And,” Killian adds, pulling her back to the present and decidedly clothed bodies, “it’s not weird because we’re on the same page.” He ducks his eyes, tongue flashing between his lips. That doesn’t help Emma’s mindset. She wonders if it’d freak him out of if she just magic'ed them out of their clothes. 

Probably. 

“I want to know about you,” she whispers, not quite an admission because she’d almost said exactly that before, but using the very specific words seems important and possibly life-changing and maybe that line never actually existed at all.  

Maybe they’d just been on this page from the start. 

Together. 

“Where?” “This is what I was asking you. Favorite places, an itemized list.” Killian chuckles, head dropping forward a few inches until the few strands of hair that seem determined to ruin Emma’s entire life brush against her skin. He’s never actually moved his hand away from her back. 

She’d barely noticed – as if that’s exactly where it belonged. 

God. 

“You did mention something about Times Square, didn’t you?” Killian mutters, expression twisting into something that looks like vaguely put-upon attraction. It’s a weird string of words. Emma hopes she sees it, at least, forty-seven more times. 

“And you were very quick to point out that going to Times Square would be the worst possible thing I could do.” “Yeah, well that was admittedly before everything went to complete shit and we were trying to figure out if our lives were lies.” “Ah, that was very negative. Almost scathing.” He sighs again, a quick kiss to the crown of her head. Her magic needs to calm the fuck down. “Yeah,” Killian agrees, “it was. It’d be easier if it was all balls and bowing and courting, huh?” “You seem to be far more well versed in court etiquette than I am.” “Rebel princess.” “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not, actually,” Emma says, hooking her finger through one of the belt loops on Killian’s jeans. She nearly strains the muscles in her face smiling at whatever noise that inspires. “Although that might get me on the right track” Another kiss. She’s not counting. She’s harping, a little, but definitely not counting. There’s got to be a line somewhere. 

Emma’s not sure if the line is actually in this realm or not. 

“I’m sorry for the negative, love,” Killian says, dropping his head to drag the words along the side of her jaw and Emma flinches on instinct as soon as his lips ghost over that one, specific spot behind her ear. 

He laughs. 

And pulls her even closer to his chest so she can’t swat at his arm.  

“It really isn’t your fault, Swan,” Killian continues, and Emma knows they’re rehashing and talking in circles and there’s probably a dance metaphor in there, but her mind reaches out towards the words and her magic might actually need the words and the way his voice shifts slightly when he looks at her like that makes her positive not much else matters. 

“Favorite place.” He grins. “Times Square.” “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not. And, you know, you kind of almost got there already. The library really isn’t that far out of Times Square. It’s like...maybe, two blocks.” “Ok, that was just pitiful,” Emma says, but the insult lacks much insult when she laughs the words out. Killian’s eyebrows lift. “C’mon...I’m serious. This is a legitimate attempt at--” “--Distraction? Deflection?” “Those are both incredibly negative as well.”

“Doesn’t change my answer. Times Square. It’s the best place in all five boroughs, hands down, no other choice.” “Oh my God, that was horrendous!” He widens his eyes when her voice rises, gaze darting back to the still-dark apartment and far-too-loud sound of Will’s consistent snoring. “Swan, if you keep shouting at me, I’m going to start thinking you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine what would give you that idea. Aren’t officers supposed to be honor-bound to their monarchs or whatever?” “The whatever really added to it,” Killian laughs, hand moving again and Emma shivers when the wind gusts against her skin. “And depending on which story you listen to I’m a variety of different things. I can’t imagine pirates have much honor to them.” “No honor among thieves, huh?” “Something that like.” His gaze goes distant for a moment, flitting over Emma’s shoulder like he’s looking at something she can’t see or remembering something she doesn’t entirely understand and--"Although pirates are usually pretty dashing, right? Rapscallions and all that.” “Good word.” “That’s the librarian version of me.”

“I like that one,” Emma says before she can think better of it and she doesn’t really regret the words. Particularly when they lead to that look – as if she’s the sun or the moon or possibly several different stars of the northern variety, something that would, at the very least, lead any manner of sailor home. 

Back to her. 

Every single time. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she repeats. “And I think it’s stupid nice that you’re picking Times Square to try and make me feel less like a tourist for picking Times Square.”

“Stupid nice is also a rather impressive string of words.”

Emma scoffs, Killian’s smile settling into something that also feels a bit like home and several facts about space that she’d need a small army of librarians to research. “That was definitely the goal.” She takes a deep breath, reluctantly pulling her hand away and flipping her palm up.

Killian tilts his head. “You don’t want to walk, huh?” “What’s the fun in that?” “Yeah, an absolute joy.” She flutters her fingers. And Killian doesn’t sigh, but he makes that face again and Emma smiles as soon as his hand lands on top of hers. “For what it’s worth, I never really thought you were a tourist.” “What a compliment.” “A natural New Yorker.” “Oh even better,” Emma laughs, lacing her fingers through Killian’s and his thumb finds the back of her wrist almost immediately. “Don’t let go, ok?” The rushing in her ears makes it difficult to hear whatever he says, but Emma would swear he mutters never and the surge of her magic is as strong as it’s ever been. 

They land with a soft thump, sneakers dragging across not-quite empty sidewalks because it’s late, but New York is, well, New York and she’s come to learn that there are always people everywhere. A man in a fur-suit and costumed head balanced against his hip gapes at them. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and Killian’s head falls to Emma’s shoulder when he starts laughing. Emma’s eyes bug, yanking her lips behind her teeth. And it only takes a few moments of prolonged staring and increasingly loud laughter before the guy in the fur-suit starts glaring at them, taking a step forward that’s obviously some kind of challenge. 

Killian moves in front of Emma. 

“Oh my God,” she mumbles, knowing it won’t do much because Killian’s fingers are shifting at his side and the fur-suit guy is already talking about how this is my corner and that apparently means something in Times Square. 

“No one is trying to take your corner,” Killian seethes. “Back up.”

“I’ve been here for years--” “--I do not care.” “Killian,” Emma sighs, tugging on the side of his shirt, but that doesn’t do much to help and it really is off-putting that this guy won’t put his costumed head back on. 

“The magic shows are down by Herald Square anyway,” the guy continues, “or in the Village. We’ve got rules here man, you can’t just show up and--”

He snaps his jaw shut whenever he sees whatever expression Emma assumes has appeared on Killian’s face, and she can’t mask her sigh again. So she does what she does best. She breaks the rules and ignores the protocol of Times Square street performers, twisting her wrist and feeling the push of warmth that rushes down her right arm and the man freezes. 

Immediately. 

With his goddamn head in his hand. 

Killian spins on the spot, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Emma scrunches her nose. “He won’t stay like that forever,” she reasons. “Just...you know, maybe forty-five minutes. Like an hour, tops.”

“Did I mention the brilliant part before? “Yeah, I think I heard that somewhere.”

“Good,” he says, moving back into her space and it’s a little weird to kiss in front of a frozen guy because the head thing really is weird, but Emma is also pretty interested in kissing and she pushes up on her toes before she thinks about it for too long. 

They’re both more than content to stay right there for a moment, rocking back and forth without much concern for the footsteps that move around them and the soft murmurs about their potentially inappropriate public displays of affection, but Emma’s mind can’t slow down, despite her best efforts, and the smell is even worse wherever they are. “Uh, actually 42nd,” Killian says, answering a question she hadn’t even begun to formulate yet. “That’s also impressive because, I think, technically, Times Square stops after 47th Street, so you literally brought us right to the beginning.” “Do you think you’re getting some kind of bonus points for the mind reading thing?” He shakes his head. “Nah, but it’s almost a personal challenge now. Was I right?” “It’s weird.” “Not an answer.” “Why do you not actually like Times Square?” “Are you looking at it?” Emma scowls, but she supposes he’s got a point and it all feels decidedly manufactured. She’s got no idea whatsoever what time it is, but she wouldn’t argue if someone told her it was the middle of the afternoon. The lights around her are that bright. And there are so many of them, varying sizes and colors and flashing patterns. 

It’s a lot to take in. 

There are a few more costumed street performers shuffling around them, approaching people who are probably, actual, tourists, more than a dozen police officers Emma notices on just her first glance around and the trash can at the corner of the sidewalk does not appear to have been emptied in a hundred years. 

At least. 

It’s kind of disappointing. It’s been a very strange night. 

“I’m sorry,” Killian whispers. Emma hears him. Over the din and the cars and there are so many cars and she can’t understand why anyone in their right mind would ever want to drive through this place that is shockingly similar to the picture of the Underworld she’s devised in her mind. 

“For?” “Throw a dart, honestly,” Killian mutters, hand reaching back to tug on the few strands of hair that curl behind his ears. “Everything. You having to be here, getting tugged here because some weird, creepy lady declared your magic was looking for me. That none of it makes sense. That I--” He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and Emma seriously needs to stop worrying so much about the seemingly never-ending issues she’s having with her tongue. 

It feels too big for her mouth. 

Killian’s eyes open. “I’m sorry it’s not what you were hoping for, Swan.”

It keeps happening. 

These words that aren’t just words, but might be promises and guarantees and this isn’t quite either one of those things. It feels like more. It feels like an explanation and a reason and she hadn’t been hoping for any of this. 

She’d been hoping for the exact, opposite, actually. 

And her magic brought her here anyway. To him. And the, technical, start of Times Square. 

She reaches up, tugging his hand away from his hair and it’d probably be weird to brush her lips over the back of his palm, but she kind of wants to and he beats her to it. Figures. His mouth is soft against her skin, slow and measured movements that feel like another dance and even more rhythm, a return to something forgotten and absolutely necessary. 

She seriously needs to get a goddamn grip. 

“Where would you go?” Emma asks, gritting her teeth when someone honks a car horn behind her. “Anywhere.” “I think we’re a little bound by the city, love.” “You’re being difficult on purpose.” “Yeah, that might be true.” “So pick. C’mon, babe.” She does it on purpose. She knows it. Killian knows it. The costumed guy knows it and he’s frozen for, at least, the next forty-three minutes. 

“Alright,” Killian nods, the grip on her hand tightening just a bit. “Let’s take a walk.”

Emma has no idea where they’re going. It’s nice. In a way that letting go of the fear and the anxiety that’s crept up her spine and lingered at the base of her skull for the last few weeks is nice. So, naturally, she doesn’t do exactly that. She lets herself stop worrying for a moment, but she holds onto Killian’s hand, twisting and turning across city blocks that all start to blur together a bit and the lights get a little dimmer and the noise gets a little softer and, eventually, she stops smelling that smell. 

She smells salt. 

“The water,” she mutters, an obvious string of words that probably shouldn’t sound quite as surprised as they are. Killian hums, rocking back on his heels and taking a deep breath. They’re still on the wrong side of the street, an avenue that looks almost impossible to cross, with far too many cars for whatever time it actually is, but Emma’s never been happier to be proved wrong. 

He grins at her, even before the light changes, mumbling something that sounds a hell of a lot like just follow me and she’s got no reason to argue that. They twist and turn, another string of impossible movements that aren’t magic, but feel a little bit like an even more powerful teleport and Emma laughs as soon as the railing in front of her collides with her stomach. 

Killian’s a little out of breath, his own smile making it seem like his eyes are the lights now and maybe she should just ask Regina if there’s some kind of spell to, like, sedate her and her sentimentality or something. 

“When I first got to New York,” Killian starts, and Emma stops laughing almost immediately, “I didn’t have two cents to my name. I don’t--I haven’t really thought about it in a long time because it’s all kind of a blur, but I knew Liam was gone and I was so...angry. At everything and everyone and the whole goddamn world.” “That’s not unreasonable.”

“You’ve been incredibly understanding about this several times now, Swan, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was kind of an ass about it.” “But you came here?” He hums, soft in the back of his throat. Emma takes a step to her right, fingers curling around the bit of plastic at the end of his arm and she feels him flinch before she hears his breath catch. “Aye,” Killian breathes, another repeat that makes every bit of magic Emma’s rise up and jump and maybe do a few cartwheels just for good measure. “It was--I joined the Navy because I wanted to do something good. Wanted to...defend is an awfully hokey word isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Emma nods. “But it’s kind of nice.” “Ah, well that’s the line I’m trying to walk, for sure.”

She might giggle. There is, at the very least, a small army of butterflies in her stomach. “What’s the earliest thing you remember?” “In my life?” “Is that--”

“--Emma, I’m not sure there’s a question you could ask me that would be overstepping at this point. I...I want to know too.”

And it’s not exactly everything, still not a promise or a guarantee or a very specific string of words Emma absolutely, positively should not be thinking because it’s been a few weeks and fate is...stupid and impossible and she can’t shake that feeling in the back of her mind. She wishes Times Square hadn’t been so lame. 

She takes a deep breath instead. 

“So why’d you come here, then?” 

Killian grits his teeth. “I don’t remember a ton,” he says. “Before Boston or even really in the Navy. Just...that I was there. It’s like, uh, looking at something through glass, you know? It all gets warped and changed and none of it makes much sense, but there’s bits and pieces.” “The space heater thing?” “Exactly. And this. The water. There’s just...it’s kind of like this tug, almost. That if I came back here and watched the waves and the surf, everything else would settle. I’d settle.” “I don’t understand that last part.” He makes another noise and Emma knows exactly what word goes with it, but she doesn’t want to use it because it makes the butterflies stop fluttering and the bile rise in the back of her throat and her magic doesn’t just surge. It roars. In something almost akin to rage. 

And determination. 

As if it’s desperate to protect, to wrap itself around him and utter those promises and how much she wants and hopes and Killian’s eyes widen to a size that cannot good for him because he can feel all of that. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I...for as long as I can remember, Swan. It’s always been this--” He can’t seem to hold her gaze, eyes darting anywhere that isn’t her as if he’s terrified of the reception he’ll get. And Emma ignores the growing ache in her legs from the walking and the dancing and the fighting off the butterfly army, crowding against him and resting her palm on his cheek. He kisses exactly where his lips land. 

“Out of place, right?” she asks. His eyes get even wider. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I...get that, a lot, actually.” “I used to come here every night. It’d get dark and I’d been in that library all day and it always felt like I was looking for something I forgot to write down. I’d stack books and put things away and it was as if the one, last thing I was searching for was just out of reach. Like smoke or something.” “Good metaphor.” Killian chuckles, the crack of a smile on his face making the butterflies shift again. “Flattery, love,” he mutters. “So I would come here. And I’d stand and watch. It was a wonder I didn’t get arrested for loitering.” “This is probably public property, they can’t do that. That’s just basic law.” “Ah, well, good thing you’re here to tell me that now.” Emma rolls her eyes. If only because she’s so impossibly endeared she doesn’t know what else to do. “I was never really worried about that though,” Killian adds. “Mostly because I didn’t care. I was...not empty. What’s the opposite?” “Full.” “Nah, that’s not it either. I was overflowing with everything I was feeling because I wasn’t sure what it was. Too much, honestly. And none of it made sense. Like I said, flashes and memories and little moments that didn’t add up to anything. They said there might have been some symptoms of that after--” “--After,” Emma cuts in sharply. “Oh, shit did you--” The realization shakes through her, rattling down her vertebrae and it’s heavy enough that she falls back on her heels. “When Liam…” “Died? You can say it, love.” She rolls her eyes again, frustration she’s not even remotely entitled to. “Were you hurt too?” “Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Killian shrugs. “I woke up in Boston with wisps of memories and hints of a past that, now, makes even less sense, but there were doctors there and I’ve got--” He holds up his hand, like that proves anything and Emma doesn’t think. 

God, she’s got to stop doing that.

She jerks both her hands forward, fingers wrapping around plastic and a limb that doesn’t allow much movement and Killian is not breathing. She knows he’s not. He’s staring at her in disbelief and something very close to wonder and they both ignore how choppy the water on the other side of the railing is. 

His eyes are definitely bluer than they were before. Emma licks her lips, not entirely sure what her plan is or if she even has one, but her magic refuses to settle and she refuses to let Killian think any less than exactly what he is and--”It doesn’t make a difference,” she says, hoping he hears the words for what they are and what she’s not actually saying. He clenches his jaw. “No matter what,” Emma continues, “I...what’s the first thing you remember?” “The water.” “What?” “The water,” Killian repeats. “That’s why I would come here. Because that was always what I thought about and it...was calming. Not just the water, either. The smell. Salt in the air and it was warm. I remember that perfectly. The back of my neck burned, but I never went inside.” “Seems to be a theme, huh?” He nods, ducking to catch her in a quick kiss. “There was water and a dock. And...the sun, light reflecting off the waves and--” Emma’s heart is going to explode out of her chest. “It wasn’t just the sun,” Killian mutters, sounding confused and a little scared and the clouds above them must have shifted because Emma swears his face moves into the shadow as soon as he tilts his head. “That’s insane, right?” “I don’t know.” “I hate to tell you this, Swan, but that’s not the most inspired answer.” She lets out a shaky laugh, even less confidence than usual. “Tell me something about Storybrooke, then. Something good. Something...magical.” “Is this flirting?” “It’s unfortunate that you have to ask.” Her eyes are going to get stuck mid-roll, but her mind is firing again and the memory can’t possibly be the same. 

It’s insane. 

It’s not. 

She really hopes her heart doesn’t explode out of her chest. Emma isn’t sure there’s a spell to fix exploding hearts. 

“I could probably eat, like, five grilled cheese sandwiches in one sitting. Granny makes them at the diner in town and it’s...my love of them is almost legendary. Ruby would bring me some when I’d get stuck with paperwork because David and Mary Margaret were off being somewhere disgustingly in love and--”

“--Is five your record?” “I don’t know that I’ve ever counted, but you know...they’re not super big sandwiches, so I’m going to say five is definitely a possibility.” Killian doesn’t laugh. That’s the good part. The less good part is whatever he does with his face, slightly stunned and a little overwhelmed and Emma is wholly unprepared for the movement, a shift and another shadow and her gasp is probably helpful. It makes it easier for his tongue move into her mouth. 

She arches her back, trying to push herself further against him, which is either the best or worst decision she’s ever made, but they really can’t get arrested for loitering and she’s doubtful about New York’s public decency laws and she wants, wants, wants. 

“God, I can’t think when you do that,” she says.

“Swan, the complaints, love.” “Was I complaining?” “Certainly sounded like it.”

Emma hums, pushing back up and the hand on her back feels like a weight and an anchor and, possibly, the only thing tethering her to reality.

And in the rest of her life that will follow, hours and days and years, Emma will never know what possesses her to say the next few words out her mouth. It’s as if she’s been switched on or something else has been switched off, a certainty that this is her best option and only option and it makes perfect sense.

“What if we left?” she asks. “Now. Right now?” “I thought you weren’t running.” “Only towards danger.”

“Oh, that was good, Swan,” Killian says. “You want to go find Excalibur at two in the morning? On our own?”

“How did you know that?” “You do this thing with your face when you’ve started to formulate a plan. It’s wonderful.” Emma does, in fact, make a face at that. Which only serves to, finally, make Killian laugh. “See,” he grins. “You’re doing it now. You twist your lips so it’s like...one side gets tugged down and your nose just defies the laws of physics.” “These are not compliments.” “They are, love, I promise.”

She doesn’t argue. She doesn’t particularly want to. She wants to go find Excalibur at two in the morning, fueled, almost solely, on the idea that Killian remembers a memory that can’t possibly exist. “Would you go?” Emma asks. “With me...I mean.” “Of course.” It’s more conviction and certainty and probably some other word that starts with ‘c’ and maybe a few other words that are far too big to be considering yet, but Emma mutters ok under her breath and pushes up on her toes to kiss him and the magic wraps around both of them almost immediately. 

They land outside of Grand Central Station and they’re definitely getting better at not stumbling. Emma waves her hand at the lock in front of her, the soft sound of it snapping open satisfying and, she hopes, some kind of sign for their future success. 

“Do you not ever have to say the words out loud?” Killian asks, following her into the main hall and it’s weird. The pictures they’d found online were all of a bustling transportation hub, people everywhere with briefcases and less-than-impressed expressions, trying to catch trains and there’s probably another metaphor in there somewhere. 

Something about time and how it keeps passing them by or whatever. 

Emma shakes her head. “Regina would kill me if she knew I wasn’t. Supposedly it helps with control to kind of...focus the magic into the words and the spell, but control’s never really been my thing and it’s just--” “--It’s just?” “It’s easier to do it when you’re around,” Emma says, rushing over the words like they’re embarrassing. Killian beams. “Oh, don’t look so smug.” “I’m not anything, Swan. I’m processing. Appreciating new information, as it were.” “Smug.” She’s going to magic his eyebrows to one, specific spot on his face. Killian laughs again, another press of his lips to her cheek. “C’mon,” he says, “Belle said the building prints had some kind of secret entrance down in the corner by the food court.” It’s even creepier down there – which is really saying something because Emma’s skin had exploded with goosebumps when they walked by that giant clock and the whole thing felt a little heavy-handed – but now they’re in some kind of basement that isn’t a basement and nothing is open and it all looks a little grey. 

The chairs squeak when they move around them, trying to find a secret hatch or a hidden door knob and--”Here,” Emma says, a pull low in her stomach and she can’t ignore that kind of magic. It’s obvious. And completely foreign. “That’s...that’s weird.” “Yeah, it is.” She blinks. “Wait, what? You can feel that too?” Killian nods, eyes going distant again and Emma’s only a little worried she’s lost complete control of the situation already. “Yeah,” he mumbles, recoiling from the wall like it’s shocked him. “It’s like--” “--Music?” “That’s what it sounds like.”

Emma leans forward, like that will help her hear better. She’s pleasantly surprised when it works. Because the music grows and the sound isn’t altogether unpleasant and Killian curses under his breath as soon as the doorknob they were looking for appears. 

“God, that’s so weird,” Emma muses. She reaches forward anyway, a quick turn and another loud click of a different lock and there’s a hallway in front of them, low lights and not much suggesting that it’s an obvious threat, but Emma can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. 

“Huh.” “Articulate.” “Yeah, I’m not sure I can come up with anything else,” Killian says. He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and ignoring whatever objection Emma only half gets out before he takes a step around her and crosses the threshold into the catacomb that’s just magically opened up. He holds his hand out. “You ready?” “Loaded question.” “Yup.” “Yeah,” Emma says, not sure if she’s answering or agreeing and it’s probably both. “Let’s go.”

It’s very dusty. That’s the first thing she notices. And filled with cobwebs. There are no windows, they’re underground, just heavy air and a small cloud of dirt every time Emma and Killian’s feet move another step forward. 

On Track 61. 

Killian lets out a low whistle, more than one kiss pressed to the top of Emma’s hair. “It does seem rather vast, doesn’t it?” “Never-ending, even. Have you seen anything that even looks like anything?”

The words are no sooner out of her mouth than they turn another corner, Emma’s fingers still tied up with Killian’s and a ball of light in her other hand, and they both mumble several rather pointed curses. 

There’s stuff everywhere. And stuff is about the best way to describe it. There’s no rhyme or reason to it – small piles of what, at first glance, appear to be various flatware sets, with far too many forks for one person, and more than a few paintings, empty candelabras and--”Is that a bust? Like...of person?”

Killian hums, moving towards it and Emma doesn’t have much choice to follow. He clicks his tongue, a quiet appraisal. “I think that’s Hans Christian Andersen.” “How would you know that?” “I know everything.” “You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are.”

He glances over his shoulder, a flash of a smirk when his lips move. “I think that’s a defense mechanism because you’re actually so charmed by me.” “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” she argues, another lie that’s almost painfully bad. “I don’t...this is just junk, though.” “You think it’s more than one person’s stuff?” “Don’t you?” “I don’t know,” Killian shrugs. “Maybe.” “And no sword.”

She’s not really expecting more flirting, so she can’t say she’s disappointed when she doesn’t get it, but Emma is admittedly a little surprised that she doesn’t even get a response. It is, she quickly realizes, because Killian’s gaze has moved over her head, staring at a high archway with his lips parted slightly. 

“Babe,” Emma mutters, falling back on recently-acquired habits and the hope that it will work. It does not. Damn. “Killian.” His brows furrow, blinking quickly and she’s not sure what to do with the look on his face – a mix of curiosity and fear that doesn’t add up at all. “Killian,” Emma repeats. “What’s...what are you looking at?” “I think we have to go that way.” “What? Why?” “I don’t--I just know.” Emma can’t argue with that. She won’t. “Ok,” she says slowly, moving her arm so she can lace her fingers through his and neither one of them stumble when they walk forward. 

She’s got no idea how long it takes, a seemingly never-ending tunnel illuminated only by the light in her free hand. Everything looks stale, as if it’s overstayed its welcome or gone bad and that’s a slightly menacing thought, but Emma’s also seem more cobwebs in the last ten minutes than she knew could ever exist and Killian keeps brushing them away so she doesn’t walk through them. 

“An officer and a gentleman,” she says, a fairly pitiful attempt to joke and this tunnel has to end eventually. “Hey, uh...you want to get dinner sometime or something?” Killian’s face turns incredulous. “You’re asking me out? Right now?” “I mean, you know after we deal with Excalibur and maybe aren’t buried alive--” “--We’re not buried alive, Swan. We can very easily get back into Grand Central.” “Is this you avoiding the question?” “No,” Killian says, far too quickly and the tips of his ears go red. Emma widens her eyes. “I’d like that. The dinner. And the getting out of here.” “Tough to breathe, right?” He hums noncommittally, another far away gaze that Emma follows. She gasps. She’s got to stop doing that. But she can see what he’s looking at and what he’s looking at is a goddamn sword in a goddamn stone like they’ve suddenly been transported into a Disney movie. 

“So, seems fairly real, huh?” Killian asks lightly. 

“Yeah. Very real. What do you think we do?” “Well, according to the legend only the rightful heir to Camelot could pull the sword from the stone, but I’m not sure we’re playing with the usual rules here.” He takes a step forward, grunting when Emma doesn’t follow immediately. “What?”

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just touch that thing?” “Why not? I’m not going to let you do it.” “I have magic,” Emma yells. “You can feel it! I’m supposed to be the one to save everything.”

Killian’s smile turns a little placating and Emma gets it – she’s kind of whining, but her magic also feels like it’s boiling under her skin and something is wrong here. They shouldn’t be here. “I think it’s got to be me, Emma,” Killian says, and she knows that’s right too. She hates that. She wishes she understood why. “I can...I knew it was here.”

“Ok.” He kisses her before she moves and she doesn’t want to think it’s the last one, but it feels a hell of a lot like that and everything that happens after that happens far too quickly and far too slowly and the ground shakes under her feet. 

Killian’s hand lands on the sword, a jolt moving through his entire body that doesn’t look natural, but does look a little magical and the shadows that had lingered on the walls around them drift towards his feet. They creep up his legs and wrap around his shoulders, head falling forward when it all gets too much. 

Emma can’t move. She’s frozen to the spot, Killian’s face twisted when he hisses in a breath of air that makes her own breath catch. Loudly. 

His knees never actually buckle and that may almost be worse, as if his legs are locked into place by the darkness that clings to him. His tongue flashes between his lips more than once, eyes screwed shut and his knuckles have turned white where they’re holding the sword. 

And then it’s over. 

Fast and slow, good and bad, light and dark. All at the same time. 

Killian’s head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief. There’s sweat on his forehead, hair matted to his skin and Emma’s lungs are burning. She still hasn’t moved. It doesn’t matter. He does. 

He moves back into her space in three steps, a hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness that contradicts that the pitch-like color of his gaze. “Emma,” he whispers, and it sounds like a plea. “Emma?”

She shakes her head slowly and in the grand scheme of flight or fight situations, Emma’s a little disappointed when she doesn’t react at all. Her magic, however, is a different story and Killian’s smile is wide, if not a little jarring, the curl of it turning a bit predatory when his gaze meets hers.

“You’ve got to remember, Emma. I need you to remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Us. Please, love. I...I need you to trust me.” “I do,” Emma says immediately, and she means it. Completely. “Of course, I do.” Killian mumbles something she can’t understand, ducking down so he’s almost even with Emma and the magic that sparks around them isn’t hers. 

It’s his. 

And part of her knows it’s coming, the kiss and the feeling and she wants it, desperately, but part of her is wholly unprepared for the force of the emotion behind it, greedy and needy and it’s more out-of-place rhyme because the magic surrounding both of them soars. The first burst of light takes her by surprise, but then there are more, splashes of color staining the walls around them and the tracks under their feet and Emma almost feels like they’re dancing again, swaying into each other’s space and each other’s memory. 

She presses up, Killian groaning when her tongue swipes against his lips and her fingers scratch at the back of his hair and she remembered that. She remembered that happening before, the same sound in a dimly lit corridor and a dress that made his eyes widen and they’d been dancing. 

She only realizes she’s closed her eyes when they snap open, a spectrum of colors everywhere she looks and she remembers. 

It was them.  

Is. Present tense. 

“Oh, shit,” Emma breathes, and that’s the least dignified response she could have come come up with. 

Killian’s smile widens, another searing kiss and he lets his forehead rest against hers. “Eloquent, darling,” he says. “Your highness. Sorry I’m late.”

Tag List: @kmomof4 @shireness-says @profdanglaisstuff @captainsjedi @thejollyroger-writer@winterbaby89 @melsbels @tiganasummertree @jennjenn615 @idristardis @cssns

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #that stupid witch fic #all was golden in the sky #here's a fun fact #chapters five and six were originally one chapter #and i split em to add emma's conversation with belle #and the times square stuff #that times square stuff will be important #she says only vaguely ominiously

[btsmutimagines]

Say I Love You

*Hello, this is a monster fic that I probably shouldn’t have written but I just love this show so much*

Hoseok x Reader

Inspired by the anime “Say I love you” 

Word count: 17k (rip to people on mobile)

I know my editing skills are shit please don’t tell me

You stood in front of your homeroom teacher, her sighing as she pulled out your career sheet. Beside the banal information like your name and signature, the paper was pretty much blank.

“Y/N, how could you not have an idea what you’re going to do with your life? You’re the top of the class, top of the grade but you take everything for granted! The other students say you don’t even speak to them and you’re always alone. At first, I just thought it was because you were focused on school, but it has been the core of your personality.”

“Life isn’t just about school, you have to create relationships and grow with others…” She said more but you started to drown her out when she started to talk about relationships.

Why would you need people?

People were unreliable, unforgiving and ungrateful.

Friends were temporary relationships formed to keep oneself from being alone but, even in a sea of friendships, you would still be lonely.

People need you until they don’t. They will turn their back on you just as quickly as the relationship began. You don’t need people like that, you didn’t need people.

“Y/N, go home and talk with your parents about this. I expect this filled out by the end of this semester.” You took the paper from her, stuffing it in your bag when she was out of sight and walked home.

Your father was still at work, you rarely saw him these days and mostly cared for yourself. You grabbed leftover pizza that your father ordered and heated it up. The silence listened as you ate alone, the greasy pizza warmed up your throat and your stomach was satisfied with the food.

“Jingle?” Your cat leapt up on the counter, looking at you and you petted her back. She was a sleek black cat with blue eyes, such a stunning creature. You rescued her when she was abandoned in a dumpster, Jingle warming up to you and your father quickly and you couldn’t remember a day without her.

She purred to your touch, you smiled at the gentle sound and continued to pet her head and behind her ear.

“I wonder what it would be like to be like you, Jingle. Free to roam wherever I liked, free to be alone if I wanted to. Not having to conform to a stupid society that judges you for not wanting to be around people.” She looked at you, clearly not knowing a word you said but she still meowed at you.

You washed the dishes, going to your room with your cat trailing behind as you pulled out your books. The career sheet came out, crumpled from being shoved in and you scoffed.

You were only 17, still going through your second year of high school and they already want you to decide what to do for the next 50 years? You don’t even know what you’re doing next week, let alone the rest of your life.

You crumpled it up into a ball, tossing it into your garbage can and focused on your homework.

What’s so bad about wanting to live in the now?

You woke up the next morning, Jingle snuggled into you and you woke her up so you could get ready for school. You went to the bathroom, taking a shower and brushing your teeth. You slipped on a fresh pair of underwear, the soft cotton was comforting to your skin and you wore your school uniform.

You left your door open a little, just enough that Jingle could come and go as she pleases and opened the fridge. The fridge was barren, expired milk, an apple and an empty Chinese container. It was time to go shopping again.

You went with the apple, taking a few bites while you checked your watch. You tossed it the rest, not wanting to be late for school and rushing out the door.

Walking down the path to school, kids on bikes passed you by, girls gossiping to one other, boys horsing around, and you kept your pace. You entered the front gate, moving out the way for anyone that was trying to pass you and manage through the front doors.

You went so close to making it to your classroom before you saw two boys and a girl standing near the door. The girl spoke in a high-pitched tone, probably trying to act cute as she chatted with the boys.

“Hobi~ Let’s go out tonight.”

“I don’t know, me and Joon went out last night and-”

“You had all those girls all over you, even the girl I was talking to kept asking me about you! What about the girl you danced with?”

“Hobi, you went out without me and danced with some other girl?!”

“Her? I just talked to her, she seemed nice.”

“Nice?! You didn’t even try to get her number?”

“Oh, was I supposed to? I thought she just wanted someone to dance with.”

“How could you be so popular yet so clueless?”

“I’m glad, that girl probably wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Minyoung, that isn’t nice to say-” You snapped out of your trance when someone bumped into you, receiving a glare and you walked past the trip without a second glance. You could feel eyes on you, you ignored the stares they were probably giving and took your seat.

Eventually one of the boys and the girl entered the classroom, taking their seats and your teacher walked in.

“Class president.”

“Stand.”

The day was already halfway through, the bell for lunch ringing and you quietly left the room. You went down to the back of the school, seeing a familiar cardboard box and crouching to see the cat and the small kitten you secretly fed.

They were hiding here, you stumbled upon them when you were staying at school for a bit. You wanted to finish a book that you kept holding off on reading since you spent most of your time studying. You won’t forget the small meow you heard before finding them.

The mother was protective of her baby, something that you expected from her, but she began to grow fond of you after coming back with food for the two of them. The kitten was a messy eater, often having pieces of tuna stuck to his fur and meowing for more food. You gave the kitten a small piece of cheese, worried he might not be able to properly eat if you gave him too much.

Relief washed over you when he licked your finger and you gently scratched under his little chin. He began to play with your hand, his little paws trying to trap your fingers between them and you giggled.

You heard the bell ring again, reluctantly leaving and going back to class. You took your usual seat, ignoring the chatter around you and pulling out your books.

The school day came to an end, you going to your locker to pick up your shoes and walking to the grocery store. Your bag was heavy with books, but you forced yourself to pick everything you thought you need to get through this month.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s been long.”

“Miss Kong.” You bowed to her, she’s the owner of the store and had known your parents for a long time. She once showed you a picture of the three of them when she first inherited the store from her family.

Of course, you faked your interest, just wanting to get back to your house and she didn’t seem to notice your disingenuousness.

“It must be hard to cook for your dad, huh? Your mother always said he was like a toddler.” You simply nodded, ignoring what she said about your mother. Why would she even bring it up?

“Yeah but I have to keep trying, I guess.”

“What a good daughter.” She praised you, your need to get out of the store growing larger as she kept chatting. You wouldn’t say much back, quickly packing your groceries and rushing out of the store.

Your face met a chest as your groceries fell everywhere.

“Oh shoot, sorry.”

“No, it was my fault-” You began picking up things, your hand touching the stranger’s and you looked up. His eyes met yours, his chocolate eyes distracting you for a moment before you snapped out of it.

You picked up the last piece of grocery from the ground and got up at the same time he did.

“Wait, aren’t you the girl from this morning?”

“I-I don’t know what…?”

“You are, I recognize that emotionless expression.” Is this how he talks to complete strangers? How strange of him.

“Is that how you talk to people?” You mumbled before walking away from him, his presence giving you a feeling unfamiliar to you. He called out to you, making you only take off in a sprint and looking back to make sure he wasn’t following you.

Who does he think he is?

It was the same old day, you entered the front door and going to your locker to change your shoes, but you felt someone standing next to your locker door.

“Good morning.” You flinched a little, seeing the boy from yesterday leaning against the lockers and you looked at him, bewildered. How did he even know where your locker was?

“Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you or anything. I just wanted to apologize about the other day. I didn’t mean to sound rude and I was being inconsiderate of your feelings… Please forgive me!” He bowed to you, startling you and you looked around to see others staring at the scene in front of you.

“I-It’s okay.” You stuttered, him standing straight and flashing you a smile.

“Great, I’ll see you around…” You quickly rushed in the other direction, taking the pause as an opportunity to get to class and quickly sitting in your seat.

Why did he feel the need to apologize? People have said worse about you and they won’t do as much as acknowledge your existence.  

What a strange boy.

You didn’t ponder about him any longer, focusing on what your teacher was writing on the board. Your hand quickly wrote notes, catching all the things your teacher spoke about and reading off the board.

The bell rings, lunch had started, and you began to go to your usual spot. You quietly eat lunch, watching the kitten bonding with his mother. Between eating, you fed them some of the chicken you brought and gave them some water from the hose nearby.

You could have sworn you felt like someone was watching you, but you looked back, not seeing a soul and continued to spend your time watching the felines.

Class commenced again, this time you had gym and you went to the change room with the other girls. They were talking about various things, most subjects disinteresting to you and you quickly changed.

“Alright, let’s start with laps, girls!” The majority has groaned in unison, your coach whistling at all of you and you walked on the track. He started his timer, whistling again and the jog began.

You were decent at laps, gym wasn’t a class that you particularly excelled at, but it didn’t mean much to you anyways. Gym wasn’t your future.

“Out the way, turtle!” You heard from behind you, a girl shoving you out her way. She ran past you, you rolled your eyes at her rudeness. Would it kill anyone to be considerate of others?

“Alright, girls, who’re up for soccer?”

Your muscles felt sore, soccer ended up being you running up and down the field without touching the ball once. You would have liked to stand since you weren’t really playing but your teacher had hawk eyes. He wouldn’t miss seeing you not actively participating since ‘you won’t learn if you don’t try’ as he typically tells you.

“Hey!” You pretended to not hear him, walking towards the exit and leaving. A hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you, you let out a yelp and you turned to glare at the owner of the hand.

“Didn’t you hear me back there?”

“I'm guessing you didn’t then, mind if we walk home together?”

“I do mind.”

“Cold.”

“I don’t know you. So, can you please…?” You looked at his hand, still around your wrist and he pulled away from you.

Why does he keep appearing?

You were carrying the books for your next class as you ‘volunteered’ (one of the girls in your class shoved the responsibility onto you) and you could barely see over the stack.

“Need some help?”

“A-ah, no.”

“Come on, let me help you.” He took some books from you, revealing his smiling face and you quickly looked away. That weird feeling came back, you broke into a brisk pace and he followed.

“Say, how come you haven’t told me your name?”

“I don’t know yours.”

“O-Oh, you’re right. I’m Hoseok, Jung Hoseok.” Of course, Hobi was just a nickname, Y/N.

“I see…”

“This is the part where you tell me yours.”

“Hobi!” You heard a voice call out to him, seeing a boy and girl jog towards him. You walked off, entering your classroom that just so happened to be close. His friends distracted him, and you took a breath of relief.

You didn’t know if you could stall his questions, he seemed persistent since he managed to find you despite the largeness of the school.

The next class started, the boy from earlier carrying the rest of the books in and the class president passed out the rest.

You excused yourself to the washroom, taking a hall pass from your teacher and going into one of the stalls. After flushing the toilet, you were washing your hands when someone entered the bathroom.

“What are you looking at, mute?” You looked away, drying your hands and walking back to class. You took your seat, picking up from where your teacher left off and letting class distract you until the end of the day.

“Y/N!” You looked over, seeing Hoseok jogging up to you as you put on your shoes and he was grinning.

“You know it’s not nice to ditch people who help you out, Y/N.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, Hoseok leaning in closer as if he couldn’t catch what you said but the proximity of his face to yours made you push him into the lockers across from you. His hand hit hard on the space where a lock is supposed to go, and you saw others watching the two of you.

“I-I-” You bolted, the gust of air hitting your face as you shut your eyes to run as far away as you could. You could hear their judgemental thoughts even from where you were, how they hate you for hurting him, how you were a senseless mute with no manners, how you thought because you were top of the grade, you could treat anyone how you liked.

These were the kinds of words that you knew they were thinking. These are the kinds of people they are.

Who needs them?

You sat in the courtyard, enjoying the flowers the gardening club planted for their spring project. The vibrant array of coloured tulips, crisp whites of the chrysanthemums, the staple roses along with the bright carnations. These brought you a bit of joy in the otherwise dreary day

“You know, you make it really hard to find you. I guess that’s how you want it to be, huh, Y/N?” You looked to your right, seeing Hoseok a little sweaty but still smiling. Why did he always smile like that?

Why did he always smile around you?

Your eyes shifted from his smile to his hand, seeing a bruise on his hand. How could he still smile with a bruise like that?

“Your hand.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, I’m a lot tougher than I look.” You searched the pocket of your school blazer, feeling the band-aids you usually carried with you and put one in his bruised hand.

“Oh, I don’t think these will be enough-?” You showed him the whole row you kept with you and he took them with you, scratching his head and you picked up your bag from the bench you were sitting on.

“Then.”

“No, wait, this isn’t what I came here for.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not it either.” You looked at him with a frown, confused. This couldn’t possibly be him finally telling you why he’s been following you around, could it?

“Give me your phone.” You blinked. If he’s trying to steal from you, he’s not doing a very good job at it.

“Ah, no, I’m not stealing your phone, I just want to put my phone number in.”

“Why?”

“So, we can be friends, Y/N.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“Look, I know it was weird that I was talking to you without introducing myself, but I wanted to get to know you and become friends-”

“I told you I don’t need friends.” You cut him off, repeating yourself before walking away.

It was the end of the day, you manage to fend off the deathly glares you were receiving from most of the girls in your grade. They must have gossiped about what happened yesterday. You opened your locker, seeing a few sheets of paper falling to the ground.

You were about to toss them all away, most of them were just insulting you about hurting Hoseok but one of them had numbers on it. You opened it properly, revealing a phone number and Hoseok’s name on the bottom. He also wrote: Call me :) You were tempted to toss it out, but you just folded his note up and slipped it into your pocket.

“Oh, Y/N, here for another shift?”

“Of course!” You worked at a bakery, the lady who lived a few floors below you had been running the place since you moved there, and she offered you the job after you started high school.

You stood behind the counter, seeing a few people in the store looking over the options.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, how may I help you?” It was a regular customer, she has been coming to the bakery since you started working there and she always bought the same item: three peanut butter chocolate cookies.

“I would like three of the usual.”

“Of course. That will be 1800 won.” She handed you 2000 won, you quickly giving her change and bid him goodbye.

“Please come back again.” You quickly bowed, the next customer walking up to you and you greeted them.

You kept checking people out, eventually, the store became empty and you sat in the back with your boss.

“You seem different, Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“You seem more distracted; did you get a boyfriend?”

“Miss Song.”

“Eh, you’re so cute, Y/N~ Love is amazing, isn’t it?”

“I-I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear!” You stammered out, avoiding her eyes and you placed your hands between your knees.

“Don’t be so shy, Y/N~. He’ll come around, I promise.”

“Miss Song!”

You bowed to Miss Song when you left, adjusting your bag and began to walk home. You looked back, just seeing a crowd of people going in multiple directions.

You kept walking, the feeling of someone trailing behind you became hard to shake off when you stopped, and someone rudely pushed past you.

“Can’t you see people are going to places?” They curtly said, and you took the opportunity to look back again, seeing the woman from earlier in the distance trying to be inconspicuous. You pretended to not notice her and walked into a convenience store.

You didn’t bother calling home, knowing your dad wasn’t going to be home since he wrote you a note saying he’s going drinking tonight. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that the woman was still outside and staring at you.

What can you do? Think, Y/N.

You remembered Hoseok’s note, take a deep sigh before dialling his number.

Hello?

“Jung H-Hoseok?”

The one and only, this is Y/N, right?

“Yes, y-yes.”

Is something wrong? You sound…different… Are you drunk or something?

“I need your help, okay! And I don’t know how to ask you.”

Calm down, Y/N, what can I do for you?

“Can you come to Junko’s Convenience store, please?” You whispered. He hung up on you, your nerves going haywire.

See, Y/N, this is why you don’t need friends. Did you really think he was going to come and save you because you begged him to? There’s nothing in it for him in helping you out. Quit thinking people are going to be there for you.

You shut your eyes, wanting the taunting voice in your head to stop. You knew you were stupid to think he was going to help someone like you, especially after all you’ve done to him…

“I’m an idiot.” You whispered to yourself.

“No, you’re not, Y/N.” You opened your eyes, seeing Hoseok in more casual clothing and visibly panting.

“H-Hoseok?”

“In the flesh. Are you alright?”

“Hoseok…”

“Y/N?” You clung onto him, almost collapsing on him and he didn’t stay anything.

“I didn’t think you would come… after everything…”

“You called me, why wouldn’t I come? Now, can you explain what’s going on? Unless this is an impromptu date?”

“Can you really joke at a time like this?” You explained to him about what was going on, him stealing a glance at the woman and you looked down at your shoes.

“Looks like you have a stalker, have you seen her before?”

“She came by my job today, she’s a regular. I don’t know why she would be following me.”

“I’ll walk you home and get her off your trail, just trust me.” You didn’t know why you trusted his words, but you nodded, following his lead as he bought two bottles of pop before leaving the store.

“Do you trust me?”

“Y-Yes.” He turned you to face him, you became locked in eye contact before he leaned in.

It took a few seconds to process the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, his arms wrapped you as his hands pressed into your lower back. You didn’t know how to react, letting him pull you in closer and he pulled away.

“She’s gone.”

“Y/N?” You stumbled backwards a bit, Hoseok looking at you strangely.

“Oh, I should have warned that I was going to kiss you. Sorry.”

“Wait... was that your f-”

“Please stop talking. Just stop.”

“I didn’t know, really. I…” You started to walk away, Hoseok jogging up next to you and you felt an aura of embarrassment surrounding you and you wished you could melt into a puddle.

Your first kiss… Taken by someone like him, someone who could just easily take it away from you without a second thought…

“Say, now we have each other’s numbers now.”

“What?” He showed you his recent call list, your number at the top of the list and you sighed.

“Don’t be so glum, Y/N. I’m not going to blow up your phone with messages. I’ll call you when I need help. Will you come rescue me too?”

“Can you…”

“If you’re going to ask what I think you’re going to, then, no can do. You owe me one.”

“I want to take it back.”

“Take back what? Your favour or your first kiss?”

“I thought I told you to not talk about that!”

“Sorry, sorry. No takesies backsies, Y/N. Now, where’s your place?”

You got home after spending 10 minutes convincing Hoseok to go home instead of inviting himself over for tea.

You were already embarrassed enough for shoving your face in his chest, stupidly calling him to even come to the convenience store and… kissing him.

The softness of his lips was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, his lips smooth, and they kind of tasted like blueberries. The sweet kind that you used to pick with your grandmother when you lived near her farm. She would always let you taste her best pick, the delicious juice squirting in your mouth as you bit into the sweet fruit.

You touched your own lips, trying to remember the feeling more and your eyes widen as you realized what you were thinking about.

“I’m not crazy, am I, Jingle?” You said to her as she walked over to you, hearing her meow in response felt like she was saying yes, and you lowered your head.

It was just one silly kiss, he just did it for your sake. It meant nothing to him but why does it to you?

“Good morning, Y/N. Did you sleep well?”

“W-What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I was just saying hi.” He frowned, his friends walking up to him and they looked at you. You could feel yourself shrinking on the spot and you wanted to disappear at this very moment.

“Hobi!”

“Oh, Y/N’s here too.”

“Good morning, Y/N!” The girl said, giving you a small wave.

“Ah, this is Namjoon and Minyoung. They’re in your class, right?”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She grabbed your hands, smiling at you and you weakly smiled in reply.

“Hobi, why didn’t you come back after you left? The girls won’t talk to me afterwards.”

“Oh, my mom called.” Did he leave his friends for you?

“Can you come out tonight? The girls from Class C have been bugging me about when you’re going out again.”

“Tonight’s good.”

“Y/N?” You looked at Minyoung, who was still holding your hands and she cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh ho, I know what’s going on here. I’m stealing Y/N~”

“Have fun!” She dragged you along, you surprised by how strong she was and you two were definitely out of earshot and their sight when she started to speak again.

“You’re the reason he left last night, weren’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Sounds just like him, Hobi would do anything to help anyone if they need him.”

“Oh…”

“Did anything happen?” You didn’t want to tell her, part of you felt like she liked him and was going to warn to stay away from him like you were in a drama. Also, because you were really trying to forget that he kissed you. And how his lips tasted like. And the way your heart raced when he looked at you afterwards. Damnit.

“He kissed you, didn’t he?”

“How did you know? Does he do that to every girl?”

“There are rumours about him kissing half the girls in the school, some from other schools and… I was also one of them.”

“Oh…”

“But I don’t like him that much, I like someone else now. I’m thankful for Hoseok doing that, though. It helped me out a lot.”

“Okay.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, how could you tell from just one kiss? You barely know him, but you couldn’t deny that you felt like you wanted to get to know him a bit more than before.

“Well, I know that there are a lot of girls that would love to be where you are with him right now but there’s no pressure.”

“I hope that we can become friends regardless, right?” You nodded, it was still unsure whether you could really trust Minyoung but if she can be around Hoseok, she can’t be a bad person, can she?

You came to your usual spot of lunch, managing to sneak past Minyoung and Namjoon and took a sigh of relief.

“You like to hide here a lot.”

“Hoseok?”

“You say my name in such an interesting way.”

“Sorry.”

“I w-wasn’t scolding you or anything, I just like the way you say my name.” He looked away from you, covering his mouth and you felt your cheeks growing hot. Get your mind out of the gutter, Y/N!

“O-oh okay…How did you find me?”

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you and tried to follow you… and saw you playing with a kitten and I couldn’t interrupt, I guess.”

“Sounds like you were stalking me.”

“I’m not afraid to come towards you, Y/N. Besides, do you always call your stalkers to come and save you?”

“I’ve never been in a situation like that before… but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I would always help you out if you just call me. I’ll come running for you.” Gosh, did he have to say things like that so easily?

“T-Thanks.”

“Two thank you’s from Y/N, what have I done in my past life to get so blessed?” You rolled your eyes, he’s more dramatic than you thought.

“Oh, and a smile. Mission accomplished.”

“What kind of mission is that?”

“I always wondered what your smile looked like, just as pretty as I thought it would be.”

“Quit it.”

“I’m being honest here!”

Hoseok was standing near your classroom’s door, people staring as he looked at you as you walked out and stopping you. You looked up, you usually walked with your head won to avoid eye contact with anyone.

“Let’s walk home together today.”

“But Namjoon…”

“I’ll join him later. Come on.” He took your hand, pulling you along to your locker and watching you change shoes and put some of your books away. You walked with him, avoiding the looks people were giving you and you felt something warm slip between your fingers.

“Just ignore them, I’m here.” You took a deep breath, Hoseok squeezing your fingers and you continued to walk home holding onto his hand.

“What did you and Minyoung talk about earlier? I hope she didn’t scare you or anything.”

“Oh, she told me about the r-rumours about you…”

“Ah, people really have nothing better to do than making up stories about me. They aren’t true, Y/N.”

“So, you didn’t kiss Minyoung?”

“That’s… true but it didn’t mean anything.” Just like when you kissed me. You untwined your fingers from him, gripping your skirt and he looked down at his hand.

“Y/N.”

“I get it, Hoseok. She told me you did it to help her and that you would do anything to help someone out. Kind of like you helped me out.” Although it feels like he cursed you with endless thoughts of him, thoughts that you wanted to push away behind a door and never have to unlock ever again.

“Yeah, I guess.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk next to you and he didn’t say any more until you were near your place.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N…” He left before you could say anything back to him, you watched his retreating silhouette and you felt like breaking down. He looked so dejected after you brushed aside him and Minyoung kissing like how he kissed you, but he said that it didn’t mean anything to him. How he kissed you… how was that any different?

Hoseok was confusing.

“Morning, Y/N!”

“Mornin’, Y/N.” Namjoon said after Minyoung, the two of them at your locker without Hoseok in tow. Your heart ached at the realization, but you still put on a smile for the two of them.

“Morning.”

“Wow.”

“W-what?”

“You have such a cute voice. Can you say ‘Good morning, oppa’?”

“Kim Namjoon, don’t make her say weird things, you pervert!”

“Minyoung-ahh, why do you have to ruin my fun? Is it because Hoseok’s not here?” Namjoon whined.

“No, you’re going to taint Y/N’s innocent soul with your weird perverseness. Come on, Y/N.” Minyoung stuck her tongue out at Namjoon before walking away with you.

“I think I forgot my textbook in my locker, meet you in class?”

“Okay.” She gave you a smile, you returned the gesture before taking a detour to the bathroom.

“Did you hear?”

“What?”

“That little mute has been clinging onto Hobi and people are even saying they kissed!”

“Was he drunk? Why would he kiss that stupid mute? She walks around the school like she’s untouchable because she gets good grades. Someone needs to tell her friendless ass that nobody, including Hobi would never want her in a million years.”

“Besides that, what about that girl, Minyoung?”

“You mean Miss ‘My ass can’t find a chair to sit in’?”

“Remember how they had to give her a custom chair because she kept complaining about the regular ones?”

“I bet she got implants with her daddy’s money, there’s no way they’re real.”

“Too bad she can’t implant a personality into her body too.” You were fuming about the way they were talking about Minyoung, she hasn’t done anything to anyone to deserve to be talked about like this. Behind her back, especially.

You purposely swung your stall door open, making sure the two girls had taken notice to your presence and they glared at you before turning back to the mirror.

“Nobody’s as fake as the designer bags you have.”

“Oh, look, the mute is finally talking, isn’t that cute?”

“You think you can get brave now that Hoseok knows you exist? News flash, you’re still nothing around here and Hoseok isn’t going to protect you.”

“This isn’t about Hoseok. It’s about the way you talk about Minyoung. She hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Aw, the mute wants to protect her little friend.”

“Aw, the mute thinks she has a friend.”

“It’s getting really annoying hearing the two of you continue to talk.”

“Oh, you don’t want to talk, huh?”

You sat at the courtyard, Hoseok sighing as you crossed your arms and looked in the other direction.

“I leave you alone for a change and you come back with scratches on your face? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He sat next to you, turning your head and you winced. His thumb was touching your scratches and he quickly moved his thumb underneath your chin.

“Sorry.” He mumbled as he pulled out the band-aids you gave him for his hand and put them over your cheek. You blinked as his fingers stroked your cheek a bit before he stopped himself.

“Promise me you won’t let your pretty little face get hurt again, please.” Your heart stupidly skipped when he said ‘pretty’ and you nodded, getting a smile from him.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

“N-No.” You blurted out, Minyoung immediately touched your cheek.

“Is this why you came in with your hand on your cheek this morning?”

“Yeah…”

“Be careful, I don’t like seeing my friends get hurt.” There’s the word again, friend. Did you really think of Minyoung, Namjoon and Hoseok as friends?

“Minyoung, I hurt my arm!”

“Did you? Let me see.” She touched his arm, Namjoon blushing and you watched as Minyoung attentively looked for his injury.

“Ya, you’re not injured!”

“Internal bleeding?” She glared at him, Namjoon nervously laughing and the rest of you joined.

Maybe they could be your friends…

“Hobi, Hobi!” A girl ran over to your group, going directly to Hoseok and he looked at her with a smile. Does he smile at everyone like that too?

“Oh, Eun Ae.”

“We missed you last night, Joonie said you were coming but you didn’t.”

“Yeah, dude, I was going to ask you this morning, but you were MIA.”

“I really wasn’t feeling it yesterday, I guess.”

“That’s too bad, I was really looking forward to hanging out again. Like we used to.” Your ears perked up to her words, Hoseok already knew her, huh?

“I’m up for it, Minyoung.”

“As long as you’re paying, Joonbug.”

“Is that all I’m good for, Minnie?”

“Aw, Joon.”

“What about you, Hoseok?” Eun Ae put the focus back on Hoseok, whose eyes were on you and you didn’t notice until you met his eyes.

“What do you say? I’ll do what you want.” You felt eyes on you now, Hoseok shifting the attention onto you and you immediately became nervous. The glare from Eun Ae was apparent, knowing that she didn’t like that Hoseok was letting you choose for him and that he even cared about what you wanted.

“I guess it’ll be fun.” You didn’t miss the smirk on Eun Ae’s face before she looked innocently at Hoseok.

“I’ll see you later, Hobi.” She didn’t spare any of you a glance, walking off and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Wow, I could see Eun Ae ready to pounce on you again, Hobi?”

“Eun Ae’s been like this for so long.”

“Um…”

“What is it, Y/N?” Hoseok looked at you, you avoided his eyes before speaking again.

“How do you guys know her?”

“Eun Ae, she used to go to Hoseok’s middle school. The prettiest girl in our grade and she came to the same school as us. She was Hobi’s-”

“Enough, Namjoon.” Minyoung said, looking at you sympathetically and you smiled at her.

“Alright, sheesh. Sorry, Y/N, I just really enjoyed middle school.”

“I think you’re the only person on the planet who enjoyed any part of school.”

“You liked middle school a little, didn’t you, Hobi?”

“Sorry, bud.”

“Y/N, you can back me up, right?”

“S-Sorry, Namjoon.”

“Majority rules, Joon.”

“Some friends you guys are.” You giggled with Minyoung, Namjoon pouting in response and Hoseok put his arm on his shoulders.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go together?” You nodded, Hoseok walking ahead of you and you rushed to catch up to him. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, you quietly disappointed that he didn’t reach for your hand like last time. Could he be upset about yesterday? Did you say something wrong earlier, maybe?

“You looked different today.”

“You keep calling me different…”

“Ah, I guess that can sound kind of rude, I mean you looked really happy today. Like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Well…” You smoothed over your hair, not really knowing what to say. You only started talking to everyone a few days ago but it felt natural to be around them. Was having friends really this easy?

“I-I mean you seem to like having friends, it’s nice to have someone to share moments with, right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Such a dandere.”

“W-what is that?”

“Or maybe a hajidere?”

“Why are you calling me those weird words?”

“Ayee, are you blushing, Y/N? What’s going on in your mind right now?”

“Q-Quit teasing m-me…”

“You’re so cute when you stutter.” You ran away from him, hearing him running alongside you and you took off in a sprint until he grabbed your wrist.

“Slow down, Y/N, we’re here. Come on.” You followed him inside, judging from the sign, the place was a karaoke bar and you stood behind Hoseok as he talked to the receptionist.

“Namjoon booked our room already, let’s go.” He led the way, making sure you were in step with him still and he opened the door for you as you saw Namjoon, Minyoung and Eun Ae already sitting in the room.

Eun Ae smiled at Hoseok first, shooting you a glare before talking.

“Aw, Hobi, you missed me singing our favourite song, remember?”

“Sorry, Eun Ae, but what song was that?” Minyoung laughed, causing you to laugh and Namjoon chuckled.

“I’m surprised you remember where the school is, Hobi. So forgetful.”

“What day is it, Hobi?” Hoseok let you sit first, sliding into the booth next to you and you shyly smiled to yourself.

“Wednesday?”

“It’s Thursday, Hobi.”

“At least I was close?”

“You poor unfortunate soul~”

“Good to know that Minnie is confirming that she is in fact, Ursula.”

“Shut up!”

“Good to know you two are getting along.” The two of them shot Hoseok a look and you laughed as they both whined his name.

“Do you see what I have to deal with, Y/N?”

“Ahem.”

“OH, Eun Ae, I almost forgot you were here.”

“Minyoung, play nice. Sorry, Eun Ae.”

“Sing with me to make up to me?” He grabbed the mic from her, carefully getting past you to sing with her and you looked to your lap.

You didn’t possibly think that you could keep Hoseok to yourself, did you? Oh, you even thought that you could have him to yourself too, huh? Silly girl.

You looked at Hoseok and Eun Ae, quickly choosing a song and the music began. Hoseok started, shutting his eyes as he started to sing. His voice was so deep and gentle, it was comforting like a warm hug, melodic like an orchestra, light like whipped cream on top of your favourite latte.

“Hobi’s a pretty good singer when he wants to be.”

“What about me, Minyoung?”

“Namjoon, honey, you should stick to rapping.”

“I thought you would at least cheer for me.”

“Who’s next?”

“ME, me! I’ve been practicing.”

“Y/N, you might want to plug your ears.” Hoseok whispered to you, you leaned away from him and Eun Ae tapped his shoulder.

“Hobi, let go get some drinks.”

“Oh, sure.” He left with Eun Ae, Minyoung letting out a huge sigh as soon as the door shut.

“What’s wrong?”

“That leech, I hate her.”

“Minyoung is usually blindly optimistic about people but she really doesn’t like Eun Ae.”

“Yeah and she keeps trying to steal Hoseok from Y/N!”

“W-What, we aren’t like that. W-We’re just-”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you have our blessing.”

“B-Blessing?” What are they talking about, they don’t mean-? Your face was scorching hot and you covered your face.

“Oooh, are you blushing?”

“Namjoon, don’t tease her so much, she’s really innocent and pure unlike you.”

“Hey, how did this turn back on me?”

“I want to help Y/N in her quest for her pure love!”

“Oh, Y/N has a crush on someone?” Hoseok said, Eun Ae carrying snacks to the table in front of you three and you grabbed your bag.

“Y/N-” You bolted past Hoseok, wishing that you didn’t exist. You were always running away from something, whether it was Hoseok, your own emotions, the stares people would give you and even you…

“Y/N, slow down! Y/N!” Hoseok pulled your arm, you stopped at his touch and freezing on the spot.

“If you keep making me chase after you, I’m going to be an Olympic sprinter in no time.”

“Why is everything a joke to you?” You blurted out, Hoseok had for once looked a little shocked.

“I’m sorry.”

“Just go back.”

“Not unless you’re coming with me.”

“Why do you even care about me? Why are you always wondering about what I want? Am I one of those people that you pick as some sort of charity case?”

“N-No, it’s not like that.”

“Then tell me-” He leaned in to kiss you, his lips meeting yours for a brief moment before you pushed him away.

“There you go again, just kissing me like it’s nothing to you.”

“I just want you to feel better.”

“Nothing feels worse than being kissed by someone that doesn’t even love you.” He kissed you again, holding your arm that was up to push him and you fought yourself to not kiss him back. His lips were hungry, attacking yours with power than you didn’t know he had. It was a hot kiss, you weren’t sure whether it was from his lips or from your cheeks.

“This is the kiss for the girl that drives me nuts.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again. This kiss felt different, it was more languid and sweeter unlike his hungrier kiss before. It was airy and light like one of the souffles Miss Song let you take home once when she started making them. You remember how the sweet it was, every bite melting in your mouth and you only wanted to eat more.

“For the girl I want to get to know better.” He kissed you once more, a rush of electricity running through your veins as his hands pressed into your back. The noise of the world faded as you became submerged into kissing him. Your willpower crumbled to dust as you kissed him back, your hand on his chest as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Can you tell the difference?”

“I-I..”

“Do I have to kiss you again?” You covered your lips, Hoseok chuckled at you and you hit his chest with your other hand.

“Don’t laugh at me…”

“You’re just so cute, Y/N. I can’t help it.”

“Cheesy.”

“Only for you. Now, who is this mystery guy that you have a crush on? You might have to tell him that we might have kissed once or twice.”

“Ahem. Four times.”

“Not my fault. Your lips look like they’re meant to be kissed all the time.” You covered your face. He can’t stop saying stuff like this, can he?

“Don’t say those words…”

“Look at me.” You did, those same chocolate brown eyes making your mouth run dry and your heart began to race. How could he do this to you without saying anything?

“Is it me? Is it me that you like?”

“I-I can’t just say it...”

“Why not?” He pouted, his eyes mimicking the same sentiment and you thought you were going to burst at how cute he looked. You tried to break free of his hold, in turn, he pulled you closer to him.

“No running away this time. I want to hear you say it.”

“H-Hoseok… please…”

“Gosh, why do you say things like that?”

“W-What?”

“N-Never mind. Let’s go home.”

“But your bag…?”

“I’ll just tell Namjoon to drop it off. Let’s go.” He still held your hand, taking you along with him and you meekly walked with him.

You were getting ready for gym, Minyoung pressing you for questions about what happened after Hoseok ran after you which led to you needing 10 minutes to calm down since you thought your face was going to melt off.

“Look it’s the freak meeting.”

“It looks like Freak #1 has a good reminder of our warning.”

“Warning? Y/N, what are they talking about?”

“Aw, she didn’t tell you, didn’t she? What a bad friend.”

“What are they talking about?”

“I’ll tell you, Freak #2. She tried to defend you, not realizing that she was better off being a mute.”

“Maybe Freak #2 threatened to sit on her if she didn’t defend her.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” They both laughed, you clenched your fist and Namjoon came charging into the conversation.

“You’re just jealous that both your asses are flat! Minyoung’s butt is just the perfect size and anyone would kill to have that ass. I mean-”

“Oh ho, look Freak #2 has a new protector now, huh? Of course, he’s only a pervert.” You looked at Minyoung, her hair covering part of her face and she ran off before you could say anything to her.

“Aw, look at her. She’s going to cry, isn’t she?”

“Pathetic.”

You looked out the window in the hallway, seeing other classes outside having gym. Minyoung still spoke to you when you found her in the classroom, avoiding Namjoon instead and you apologized for not telling her about what really happened to your face.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Namjoon?”

“Can I talk to you?” You nodded, and he exhaled.

“I don’t know if you noticed but I really like Minyoung.”

“I know, Hoseok told me.”

“That son of a- Do you have any advice? I mean you managed to get Hoseok tied down.”

“It’s n-not like that.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I think you should just be honest with her… I mean she doesn’t know how you feel unless you say it. Speak from your heart, Namjoon.”

“O-Okay, I think I know what to do. Thanks.” He took off, leaving you back to watching the kids outside and pondering why Namjoon thinks you have Hoseok tied down…

Are we like that? Does Hoseok want to be…?

You shook off those thoughts, going through the whole school day before Hoseok appeared before you.

“Hey, you.”

“H-Hi.”

“You ready to go?” You nodded, Hoseok taking your hand and the two of you walked down the path. It felt different than usual, Hoseok was beaming in a different way, the warmth his hand radiated felt warmer and the walk home began to feel shorter.

“Namjoon said thank you.”

“For what?”

“I think he said your advice worked, him and Minnie are dating now, I think.”

“I’m glad.”

“I didn’t know you were a secret love whisperer. What can you whisper to me, Y/N?”

“H-Hoseok.”

“Tell me more.” You bit your lip; did he always have to tease you like this?

“Alright, alright. Say, are you free this weekend?” Right. Today is Friday.

“I-I have to wash my cat, she’s really dirty…”

“All weekend?”

“She’s really, really dirty.”

“I can help you out, what do you say?”

You didn’t say anything, but he was in your apartment lobby on Saturday, wearing a sweater and some ripped jeans. He had a mask covering his face, pulling it down to reveal his handsome smile. You held your breath when you met his eyes, clasping your hands together nervously and looking away.

“I w-wasn’t expecting you to actually come.”

“Didn’t I say I would come and help you?”

“B-But…”

“I promise I’ll be good.” He blurted out, making you blush, and you looked down.

“O-Okay.” He followed you upstairs, holding your hand as you led the way to your apartment. Your father wasn’t home, leaving you a note that he was going to be on a business trip for a few days and to call if you needed him.

“Do you live alone?”

“My dad isn’t here, he’s away.”

“What about your mom?”

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Sorry for asking.”

“Let me get Jingle.” You went into your room, Jingle stretching on your pillow and you leaned against the door. Jingle looked at you, hopping off the bed and pawing at your leg when she got over to you.

Don’t think about her.

“Come here.” You picked her up, opening your door and seeing Hoseok sitting at the counter.

“Oh, she’s really pretty.” He carefully reached out to her, Jingle letting him pet her and she purred to his touch.

“She doesn’t look that dirty to me.”

“She is, trust me.” You two walked into the bathroom, Jingle was calm until you opened the faucet.

“I can hold her if you’d like.”

“Be careful, okay?” You handled her off, making sure that he was holding her properly as you looked through the cabinet for Jingle’s shampoo.

“What’s her name?”

“Jingle.”

“What a cute name.”

“Do you describe everything as cute?”

“Only when it came to you.” You set yourself for that one.

“Just put her in the tub, please.” You found the bottle, seeing Jingle sitting in the water. You stood there, seeing her sit in the tub calmly and Hoseok poked your thigh.

“How did you do that?”

“I put her down gently and she sat.”

“Usually, she scratches me before dipping her toe into the tub.”

“Let me see.” You unrolled up your sleeve, revealing some of the scratches she’s given you and Hoseok touched them gently before raising your arm to his lips. He kissed each one gently and you widened your eyes as his lips moved up your arm.

“W-What are y-you doing?”

“Kissing them better.”

“You sound like a manga character.”

“Oh, does that make you my main girl?”

“I think Jingle has been waiting too long!” You opened the shampoo bottle, rubbing the liquid into her fur gently and Hoseok sighed. He started rubbing her upper body as you washed the lower part.

She purred at the gentle scratching, you smiling to yourself and reaching for the shower head. Hoseok handled it over to you, carelessly brushing your fingers against his and almost dropped it.

“You alright?”

“Just fine.” You washed her, making sure that no soap was left over and using a washcloth to wipe her face.

“Can you put this away for me?” He took the shampoo bottle away, you taking Jingle out the tub with a towel and drying her. You let the tub drain, Jingle shook the towel off her before walking off.

“She’s pretty independent, huh?”

“I once caught her eating some tuna I was cooking with on the counter.”

“Wonder what your cooking tastes like.”

“Don’t.”

“How stern. I’ll try it one day. Maybe when we’re married.”

“W-What?”

“Let’s go do something. I mean Jingle is washed and it was going to take you all weekend.” You bit your lip, knowing that you didn’t have anything to rebuttal with.

“I guess we could.”

“Thank you, Buddha, God…any other deities out there.”

“So dramatic.”

“Come on, come on.” You went to your room, searching for something to wear. Do you wear something casual, do you try and match him, do you dress up?

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright in there?”

“J-Just give me a minute.”

“Don’t dress too fancy, Y/N?” That crosses one option off your list. You settled on a pair of black shorts with legging underneath, a white wool sweater and your brown boots.

“Wow.”

“Do I look bad? Should I go change-”

“No, you look beautiful. Seeing you in regular clothes is just new to me.” He clears his throat, taking your hand and you left the apartment with him.

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“It’s a secret.” He winked at you, your heart skipped a beat and he smiled.  

You two walked through the busy streets, people of all ages and genders strolling wherever they needed to go. Some rushed down the sidewalk, others taking their time and you were just trying to make sure you didn’t trip over your own feet.

“Have you done something like this before?”

“What? You mean a date? I’m not sure.”

“I suppose you always get girls asking you to go somewhere with them…”

“But I’ve never gone to get a girl to come out with me.”

“R-Really?”

“I’m serious, Y/N.” You smiled to yourself, he’s been a lot of your firsts, your first kiss, your first friend, your first boy- You caught yourself, you weren’t even sure if you liked him yet… right?

“Oh, we’re here!” He pulled you inside, not giving you time to read the sign, but you could guess where you were based on the scenery. The walls had comics hanging, some in stands and there was a counter with small treats.

“A comic book café?”

“I thought we could just hang out and read. You seem to do that a lot.”

“They’re more words, less pictures.”

“Will you at try them out? For me?”

“H-Hoseok.”

“You’re so cute when you stutter my name, Y/N.”

“D-Don’t say things like t-that, it’s embarrassing.” You said, your hand touching your lips and your cheeks were burning again.  

“Oh, what is this? Is that Mr. Chick Magnet, Hope?” Hoseok turned around, you looked at the two people who entered the shop. A guy you didn’t recognize and Eun Ae holding his arm. She has a boyfriend?

“Ah, it’s Y/N and Hoseok. Are you on a date?”

“Yes, we are-”

“I-It’s not a date-” You both said simultaneously, looking at each other but you looked away from him first.

“She’s a little shy, I guess.” You pinched his arm, him wincing a little and you looked at Eun Ae. She was definitely glaring at you but for what reason?

“Eun and I were going to go see a movie in a bit, you two should come with us.”

“What do you say, Y/N?” Why do you always put this on me, Hoseok?!

“O-Okay.”

“Great! We should go earlier so we can get good seats, babe.” Eun Ae said, both boys agreeing and you didn’t say a word as you followed. The movie theatre had a lineup, oddly enough you saw couples waiting together and your nerves went haywire.

“Is it National Couple’s Day today or something?”

“That feels like every day with you, Eun.”

“Yoonie.” She whined as he kissed her cheek, maybe they really like each other. You shouldn’t worry about Eun Ae, she has a boyfriend and she won’t cheat on him, would she?

“Oh, Y/N~”

“What is it?”

“I want a kiss too.” You covered your lips, Hoseok laughing at you and you turned your head. His lips gently kissed your ear, you internally screaming but you manage to let out a little squeak.

“Oh, what was that noise?”

“Ahem, you two. We need to find our seats.” Eun Ae said sharply, you sidestepped away from Hoseok a little bit and following Eun Ae and her boyfriend. You took a seat in the middle row, you ended up seeing next to Eun Ae and Hoseok. He still held your hand, occasionally running his thumb over the back of your hand and you felt a smile tugging at your lips.

There was something so indescribable about holding Hoseok’s hand.

Words couldn’t fathom how gentle it was, no comparison could hold weight to how warm it felt, no feeling could capture how soft it was.

Everything about Hoseok was so new and foreign to you, part of you just wanted to dive into anything as long as he was next to you, but you had another part of you that feared everything that you didn’t know about Hoseok.

It feared how little you knew about the man next to you, how much more there is to him. How attached to him you may become.

It scared you.

“Y/N? Can you come with me to get some snacks?” Eun Ae asked you, not wanting a response before pulling you out into the lobby.

“What are your intentions?”

“W-What?”

“You can’t be this clueless, can you? I mean what are your feelings for Hoseok?” Why does everyone keep pushing you to give them an answer? What gives them the right to know?

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know? Wow, clueless and dumb.”

“Why are you being so rude?”

“I’m just in disbelief that a girl like you is blinding Hoseok from someone who actually deserves him. I mean I was his first kiss, his first date, his…” She leaned in close to whisper to you, “…his first time. What would he ever see in you?”

Yeah, Y/N, what would he ever see in you? You walked away from her, going into the theatre and avoided Hoseok’s eyes.

“Y/N, where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Wait, what?” You walked off, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes.

You knew it felt wrong to react like this, but this is your fears becoming a reality. Things that you wanted to with him, things that made you think about the future. A future with Hoseok’s sparkling eyes and dazzling smile in it. He’s already experienced it all with someone else. Someone else that wanted him and at some point, he wanted to.

“Y/N, I don’t know what Eun Ae said but I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“Don’t give me that, Hoseok. That you were each other’s firsts.”

“Oh, that?” Can he take anything seriously? You scoffed, feeling a hot tear fall on your cheek and you looked at him.

“Let me guess, you did it to help her because she begged you to.”

“Well yes but-”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I still do.” He took the opportunity to grab your hand, pulling you in the other direction and you couldn’t break free from his grip.

“I don’t know what Eun Ae said to get ideas inside your head about me, but I want o clear my name.” You didn’t say anything to him, letting him take to what looked an elementary school and he let go of your wrist.

“I know you could just bolt at any second but please hear me out.” You pursed your lips, not sparing him a glance but letting him speak.

“I went to middle school here, goofing around and making friends. Eun Ae picked me to be hers, making me do like ask her to dances, dress up how she wanted me to, even convinced me to ditch one of my best friends for her.”

“Our first year in high school, she still had her leash on me, telling me that sleeping with her will help her feel better, make her feel loved, so I did it.”

“Two weeks later, I caught her making out with one of the jocks under the bleachers before a game.”

“I didn’t know that…”

“I didn’t want you to know how much of a coward I was.”

“Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

“H-Hoseok.”

“You always do things the way you want, at your own pace. You have so much control, I’m envious.”

“You don’t have to say it back to me yet, I just want you to know how I feel about you.” He stepped towards you, brushing hair behind your ear and you blushed at the simple gesture.

“Can I kiss you?” You nodded, his warm hand cupping your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours.  

It’s so hard to be mad at you, Hoseok…

The cool winds of fall turned harsh as the winter came in. You wore your heavy coat, trying to maintain any sense of warmth you could get. Of course, holding onto Hoseok’s hand had helped a lot. Especially when he held you close before he let you go home…

“Hey, Y/N~”

“Minyoung?”

“You know what’s in a few days, right?”

“Um, our timed English essay.”

“Not that, silly.”

“What is it?”

“Valentine’s Day and Hobi’s birthday.”

“E-Eh?”

“I forgot you didn’t know his birthday but how could you forget Valentine’s Day?!”

“I was always single, so…”

“Ah.”

“So, what do you do on Valentine’s Day?”

“E-EH?” You tried to quiet her down, it’s already bad enough that you had asked her about it but how do you celebrate something that you didn’t know existed?

“Minyoung, please.”

“I know Hoseok is a sweet tooth. Are you good at baking?”

“I’ve never tried…”

“But you work at a bakery!”

“I just work at the cash register…”

“The things we do for love. Maybe you should ask your boss?”

…

“EH?” You just explained Miss Song about the position you were in without eluding to the fact you doing this for a certain someone. She would tease you to no end about it, you were sure of it.

“Miss Song?”

“How do you not know how to bake?”

“You’ve never really taught me…”

“That is true.”

“Can you please tell me a simple cake recipe? It’s for a friend.”

“Oh ho, with Valentine’s Day so close, you don’t think I know who you’re really baking for.”

“I-It’s not like that!”

“So cute, Y/N. Okay, okay, I can give you a simple recipe, just remind me before you go.” You quietly fist pumped to yourself, going back to the counter when you hear a customer come in.

“Welcome!”

You worked through your shift, taking the recipe from Miss Song and going to the closest store to buy the ingredients.

You went home, changed and started to follow the recipe. Measuring the flour, pour in the milk, melting chocolate…

Jingle sat on the counter as you carefully placed the batter into the oven.

“I hope it’s not bad.” You kept checking, putting a toothpick in it to make sure it was baked properly and you sliced off a small piece.

“Too sweet.” You coughed, the sweetness from the sugar and chocolate was overwhelming and you washed it down with some milk.

Maybe you should try again tomorrow…? You thought to yourself, finishing up some of your homework before going to bed

“Y/N!” Hoseok called out to you, you looked at him in surprise. He’s been to your class a few time before but he’s never called out your name like that.

“What is it?” You asked quietly after Hoseok took you outside of your class.

“Let’s get lunch together.”

“Okay.” He took you to the rooftop, laying out a blanket for you two to sit on and you sat down gently.

“Where do you go yesterday? I missed you.”

“Miss Song needed my help, s-so I took an early shift.” You took a bite of your food, hoping he wouldn’t press.

“Are you free today?”

“W-Why?”

“Just feel like hanging out together, just the two of us since last time was kind of messed up.”

“Oh, I have plans!”

“Really?” You couldn’t tell whether he was shocked or disappointed but the pout on his face may have told you it was both.

“Yeah, Jingle is s-sick, and I need to take care of her. By myself. A lot of vomiting.”

“I could-”

“No, n-no, you shouldn’t! I can handle her, Hoseok.” You tried to say coolly, still stuttering but you played it off by taking another bite of your food.

“Oh, okay. I guess we’re not walking together today, then?”

“I’m sorry…” You nervously smoothed over your hair, you felt guilty for hearing him so sad… He was usually so bright and carefree, so the sudden shift was getting to you.

You were praying that the cake would pay off… Anything to take away the silence he was giving you and restore his beautiful smile…

“What is this? Sweetheart?” You were in the middle of mixing when you heard your father’s voice, your heart skipped a beat. Although, you couldn’t tell it was because you missed him, or you were scared of him…

“W-Welcome home.”

“Baking something? Is it for someone?”

“A-Ah, it’s not for anyone in particular.” You avoided eye contact, his presence always made you nervous.

“You’ve never had an interest in baking and I…”

“Yeah, I know. I just picked at the habit from working…”

“Oh, I forgot you worked for… what’s her name, Miss Hong?”

“It’s actually Miss Song...”

“My mistake.”

“I’ll make dinner soon, please go wash up…” You mumbled, your dad walking out of the kitchen and into his room. He hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but he retreated to his bedroom and you exhaled the breath you were holding.

“I hope this turns out right…”

You went to school, checking the calendar and seeing it was the 14th of February and nervously clutched your bag. You were earlier than usual, wanting to use the teacher’s fridge and checking up on the felines.

They were still sleeping, the day for them still not starting yet and you left them be. You walked down the hallway before feeling a hand grab your arm.

“Let go of me!”

“I’ve never heard you yell before…” You looked to the owner of the hand, seeing Namjoon cheekily smiling at you.

“N-Namjoon?”

“There’s someone out there with my voice?”

“It’s pretty normal…”

“Bet Hoseok’s voice is oh-so-distinct to you, huh?”

“W-What does this have to d-do with him?”

“And you’re back to normal.”

“Why did you decide to grab me like an evil spirit instead of just call my name?”

“Oh, are you afraid of spirits?”

“Not the point.” You muttered, Namjoon chuckling to himself.

“Alright, I’m done with the teasing for now,” You mentally rolled your eyes before he continued, “I wanted to know if you’d think Minyoung would like this.” He opened his bag, revealing a small bear that was holding little roses and a keychain with the same bear and charm that had ‘M + N’ on it.

“Wow.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“She’ll love it.”

“But when do I give it to her? When she walks in? After school? Lunch?”

“I guess, lunch?”

“You’re right, lunch would be best.” You nodded, it was kind of weird to see Namjoon so nervous when he’s usually so confident about things…even when he was dead wrong about them. He must really care for Minyoung…

You spend the morning with Namjoon while your classmates began to file in the classroom, Minyoung looking at the two of you with a cocked eyebrow.

“Joonie! And Y/N?” She kissed his cheek, making his cheeks turn a little pink as he naturally placed his arm around her waist when she stood next to him.

“Good morning.”

“I hope my Joonie isn’t trying to involve you in any weird schemes.”

“Minnie~ I was just telling her about the surprise for Hoseok.”

“You know he hates surprises.”

“But if Y/N was involved…”

“Doesn’t he always celebrate his birthdays?”

“Last time we had a surprise party, he walked out and didn’t speak to us for a week.”

“Wow…”

“But I think if you did something for him, he would never turn it down. Plus, who could be mad at you?” Minyoung was squishing your cheeks, you put your hand on her wrist in an effort to make her stop.

“You three, to your seats!” The class president said, you quietly walking to your seat as your teacher walked in.

You went to the teacher’s lounge, quickly retrieving the cake and looking at it again. Your frosting skills were terrible, and you were tempted to just toss in the trash when you saw Hoseok walking in your direction.

You were glad that you hid it in your bag as he jogged over to you, beaming as he always was. If I could bask in your sunshine forever…

“Let’s go.” He took your hand, leading you to the rooftop and you carefully sat on the concrete.

“Today seems different.”

“It does.”

“Close your eyes.” You were taken back by the sudden command, Hoseok taking your hand and slipping something on your ring finger.

“Perfect.” You heard him say before he let you open your eyes, seeing a silver ring with a small pearl in the middle. How could he afford something like this?

“H-Hoseok, how?”

“It’s a special day and you’re someone special…”

“But how did you afford this?”

“Saved up my allowance, it’s worth it for that smile though.”

“Now, what’s hiding in the bag?”

“E-Eh?”

“I noticed you’ve been clutching to the scrap like it’ll break if you let go. Just show me.”

“I-It’ll ruin this moment and –”

“Y/N. Don’t be nervous, it’s just me.” That’s exactly why, because it is you, Hoseok!

“Close your eyes.” You sheepishly opened your bag, placing the cake in front of him and tapping him to open his eyes.

“Wow.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it? I–” Hoseok suddenly kissed you, the quick peck barely registered in your mind before he spoke.

“It’s perfect.” He took a wipe of the frosting, licking it off his finger and made an ‘mmhm’ sound.

“And delicious. You’re the best.” He kissed your forehead before digging into the cake. You watched him happily munch on the cake, some crumbles sticking to his lips and you reached over to wipe them away. He stopped, looking at you but your eyes were focused on his lips. You could just…  You leaned in, one of your hands on his cheek while the other was on top of the hand he had holding him up on the ground.

“Y-Y/N.” You didn’t know why you had the urge to kiss him, the thought of kissing him usually made you a nervous wreck but you didn’t hesitate this time. His ears were red along with his cheeks and you touched your own, feeling the usual heat.

This surely can’t be good for your health…

“There were c-crumbs…”

“I think they’re still there.”

“J-Just finish the cake, please!” You blurted out, Hoseok laughing and you intertwined your fingers.

You sat on your bedroom floor, surrounded by clothes as you looked for something to wear. Minyoung told you that the surprise party was going to be at Hoseok’s house and you didn’t know how to dress for this kind of event.

You wanted to impress Hoseok but he’s always saying that you would look beautiful even in a trash bag. At this point, you were contemplating a trash bag.

A knock on your door interrupted your current mental crisis, you got up to answer the door to see Minyoung with Namjoon in tow. You glanced at your attire, your Sailor Moon sweater and black pants and you didn’t want to answer.

Would it be bad to cancel?

“Ya, Y/N, open up!” You sighed, opening the door and Minyoung gasped.

“Please tell me that isn’t what you’re wearing.”

“I’m getting flashbacks…” Namjoon said, Minyoung petting his head and you looked at them, confused.

“It’s a long story.”

“You promised we would take it to the grave, Minnie.”

“Y-Yes…” What are they even talking about?

“Anyways, Y/N, I got some stuff from my closet that you could borrow since I thought you might be stressing about what to wear.”

“You know me all too well.”

“Of course, what are besties for?”

“What about me, Y/N? I reminded Minnie!”

“You’re my friend too, Namjoon.”

“So needy, Joonie.”

“Only for you.”

“U-Um…”

“Right! Let’s get ready.” Minyoung took your hand, going into your room despite not actually knowing the layout of your house but she cleared a space on your bed to place some options down.

“Hoseok’s favourite colour is green, but I’m pretty sure he won’t care about what colour you wear since it’s you.”

“I want to wear green.” You said, Minyoung putting out green dresses and you settled for the simplest of the bunch. It was a mid-thigh length, the skirt light and flowing with a bare bodice with a v cut neck and spaghetti straps.

“I didn’t notice this because you hid your body with your blazer but damn Y/N, you’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you, I mean you make everything look good even in our uniform.”

“You’re too kind.”

“It’s true!”

“You’re so cute, Y/N. Now, change so I can do your hair and makeup. And don’t try to politely decline, I’m not taking no for an answer.” You pouted, Minyoung not giving in and you changed before letting her do her thing.

“I think I need a second opinion… Joonie?” She took you into the living room where Namjoon was scrolling on his phone and he looked up when Minyoung called him.

“I think Hoseok is going to faint.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think he’ll forget it’s a surprise party and stare at you all night.”

“Then Y/N might faint instead.”

“I think I know CPR, no worries.” The two of them joked and you end up laughing with them before leaving your apartment. Jingle purred as you petted her goodbye and joined your friends in walking to Hoseok’s house.

He didn’t live far away from your building, but his house made it feel that way. Large steel gates with an intercom at the entrance made you understand how Hoseok could save up his allowance to purchase the pearl ring you were wearing.

“I didn’t think his house was this large…”

“He’s one lucky dude, I have to share with my little sister and she’s going through puberty.”

“I’m an only child…”

“Lucky.” Namjoon punched in some numbers, the gate opening and the three of you walked up to the front door. He looked in the plant nearby, opening the door and seeing the front decorated with streamers and a banner that said ‘Happy 18th, Hope!’ and balloons. You saw more people come out with things, a table set up with gifts and you felt stupid for not bringing one…

“I should have brought him something.”

“Don’t worry about it, he won’t notice.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re so innocent, Y/N, but yes, Hoseok isn’t really into birthdays.”

“Yeah, he forgot mine twice.” You laughed, giving Namjoon a comforting pat while Minyoung kissed his cheek. The two of them started to get lost into each other, as you liked to call it when they started to solely focus on each other without a care about the others in the room and you started to wander.

In this large house, there was so much room… You didn’t think your whole apartment was even the size of his living room. You could do so much in here if you wanted to…

It feels pretty lonely, though…

“Y/N, he’s coming. We need to hide.” Minyoung took your hand, taking you back to the front hall and hiding underneath a table. You stayed quiet, Hoseok’s voice projecting into the room after the door opened.

“I miss Y/N, why won’t she call me? Did I do something wrong?” You took a deep breath, the cuteness of his whine made you want to pop out and hug him.

“Ah, Noona.”

“I take you out for breakfast and you’re whining about your girlfriend?”

“I miss her.” You knew Minyoung was wiggling her eyebrows and you had to hold back the urge to nudge her out of embarrassment.

“Ah, why are the lights off?” The lights flickered on, you three popped out from under the table and Namjoon popped confetti with Minyoung.

“Happy birthday, Hobi!” You said in unison, Hoseok standing there gobsmacked.

“Go on, you said you missed her, didn’t you?” He walked over to you, you shyly lean against the table you were under and he lifted your chin up to make eye contact with you.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Isn’t it rude to not acknowledge your other guests?” You looked over his shoulder, seeing Eun Ae and a different boy this time.

“Look at what the cat dragged in.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Did you think I would forget your birthday, Hobi?” She walked over to you two, shoving the present into your hands and starting to flirt with Hoseok.

“I always liked you better in suits, Hobi.”

“Suits aren’t really my thing…” You walked off, really not wanting to be around them. They are right about Hoseok not noticing you came empty-handed, he wasn’t going to notice you either.

“Woah, Hoseok let you out of his sights, after all, that whining?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come here.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s easy to get lost. Your name’s Y/N.”

“Yes.” You bowed, her laughing in response.

“You don’t have to bow, Y/N.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, why are you wandering around?”

“A girl named Eun Ae came, started talking to Hoseok and –”

“Oh, that leech showed up.” Everyone seemed to dislike her but Hoseok doesn’t notice it…

“Come.” She said that but she was going to take you with her regardless, Hoseok was still talking to Eun Ae while the poor boy she brought awkwardly stood near them.

“Oh, Eun Ae, it’s been a long time, huh? Let’s chat in the kitchen.”

“In a minute–”

“Is that any way to treat your unnie?”

“N-No.”

“Right. Come along, bring your friend as well.” Eun Ae glared at you, her eyes pierced through your soul.

Hoseok took your hand, taking off in a direction and you could only follow him. He stopped when the two of you entered what looked like a guest room. The two of you sat on a couch, Hoseok opting to hold your hand and stare at you…

“Noona must like you then.”

“Huh?”

“She really didn’t like Eun Ae when I was in middle school, always calling her a gold digger and a bad influence… I wish I listened to her sooner.”

“Don’t hold it against yourself too much. You just have a giving heart.”

“I want to give everything I’ve got to you now.”

“Don’t say things like that so easily.”

“I can only say it so easily because I’m saying it to you. You’re the reason why.”

“H-Hoseok.”

“Come here…” You moved closer, Hoseok pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. His side profile was the first thing you focused on, mindlessly tracing down his jawline.

“I almost forgot…”

“What is it?”

“Happy birthday, Hoseok.”

“You’re so adorable, Y/N.” You smiled before planting a kiss on his lips. One of your hands settled on his shoulder, the other holding his hand as he leaned in to deepen the kiss.

You didn’t know why but it always caught you off guard how Hoseok could make every kiss feel so different. It was hard to describe what it was like, he could kiss you like you were the sweetest thing he has ever tasted to kissing you like it was the first time he’s ever kissed someone.

“You’re incredible…”

“I don’t think you should be complimenting me so much, it’s supposed to be about you today.”

“Hm, there is one thing you could do for me.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to call me ‘Hobi~’.”

“W-What?”

“Baby sounds good too.”

“Wait a m-minute, where is this coming from?”

“As much as I love when you call my name, I want you to call me by a nickname.”

“But everyone calls you Hobi.”

“When you say it, it will sound different to me…” He looked away from you as he said it, was he being shy?

“H-Hobi.” He placed your hand on his chest, you felt his warm chest, but the beating of his heart made you feel embarrassed

“Hearing you call my name, my heart.”

“You’re so dramatic, Hoseok.”

“Aw, Y/N, you can’t deny a man his wish.”

“You didn’t say to say it from now on, so your wish was granted.”

“Defeated by a technicality… No wonder you’re top of the grade.”

“Is there anything else?” He points to his cheek, you leaned in for his cheek and he turned his head. You quickly pulled away, Hoseok gave you a mischievous grin and you frowned.

“Can’t resist your lips.”

You stood in front of your mirror, looking at yourself in your uniform.

It’s now spring, meaning light clothing and warmer weather. Hoseok would take you home later than usual but your dad worked less in the spring…

It was awkward coming home to your dad on the couch, reading one of his novels or eating leftovers. Jingle, despite being a cat, could sense the awkward tension between the two of you and stayed in your room as usual.

Being around Namjoon and Minyoung felt more natural and you started to branch out to others in your class. Of course, you still felt Eun Ae’s glares every so often but a simple squeeze from Hoseok’s hand was enough to distract you.

You watched Hoseok in a different light, his words still made you nervous, or shy, or embarrassed or a combination of the three but you didn’t stutter like you used to.

Yet not hearing his voice made things felt incomplete. You feared that your attachment to Hoseok was going to scare him off but with every kiss, hug and calling of your name… The thought melted away like the snow on the busy streets.

You grabbed your bag, heading downstairs to see Hoseok sitting on the lounge chairs before getting up.

“Morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning, Hoseok.” He smiled at you, taking your hand and walking out of your building. The two of you walked close down the street,

“Your hair looks pretty. And is that vanilla?”

“You noticed?”

“You always smell good but why the change?”

“You said it was your favourite smell, so I… That sounds weird, doesn’t it?”

“It’s kind of cute in a way.”

“Oh…”

“Did you hear about the spring festival?”

“No, actually.”

“Ah, really.”

“Why

“It’s in a few weeks and I was-“ Namjoon jumped on his back, Minyoung shook her head as she caught up to the three of you.

“Joonie.”

“Did I interrupt something?”

“Yes-“

“No-“ You and Hoseok both said, Hoseok sighing in response.

“Shoot, sorry, guys.”

“It’s alright, dude. But get off me, you’re heavy!”

“Hurtful, Hobi.” Minyoung comforted him, the two of them walking alongside you and Hoseok. You looked at Hoseok, who was unusually silent, and he didn’t glance at you.

Was it because you said Namjoon wasn’t interrupting? He usually doesn’t mind.

You went through most of the day, Hoseok still withdrawn from speaking a lot and you asked Minyoung about it.

“Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to upset him...”

“He did look super annoyed like he had something to say.”

“He was talking about the spring festival this morning.”

“Wait, really?!”

“Yeah but, Namjoon kinda jumped in.”

“Yeah, literally. If he was talking about the spring festival, then he was...”

“He was what? Minyoung?”

“Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking. You should totally come, there’s free food.”

“Of course, there is.”

“Oh ho, what happened to my sweet and shy Y/N? This one is sassy.” You giggled at her bad acting, any place that had free food would be where you would find Minyoung. She loved her food.

“This is your influence, Minyoung.”

“I’m kind of glad. Who knew you were the missing piece from our group? Plus, I don’t have to be outnumbered by the boys anymore.”

“But Y/N?’

“Yeah.”

“You needed to tell Hoseok how you feel.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“You two have been pining over each other for months, going on dates, kissing even you think no one’s around, walking home together. Didn’t he confess to you even?”

“Minyoung…”

“I know I shouldn’t try to rush you, but you deserve to be happy, whether it’s with Hoseok or not.” You hugged her, trying not to cry from her sentiments.

It was weird thinking that months ago, you were fine being without friends and living on your own. If it weren’t for Hoseok, you wouldn’t have been friends with Minyoung and Namjoon, you wouldn’t have opened up to people. You would have been stationary, watching everyone move on without you and leaving you behind.

“Oh, what is this I see? What are you two gossiping about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Joonie?” He kissed her head, putting his arm on her shoulder and you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned your head and heard a laugh in your right ear.

“Over here.” You looked at him, his face was really close to yours and you were pretty sure that you were blushing.

“Wow, your cheeks are so rosy.”

“Don’t say that out loud…”

“Why~? It’s true.”

“You’re impossible…” He grinned, you were unable to stop yourself from smiling and he grabbed your hand. You knew he was going to whisk you somewhere, your feet already matching his steps as you two walked down the hallway.

“Hoseok, where are you ta-” Your back hit the wall along with the crashing of Hoseok’s lips against yours. Your hands gripped his shirt, taken back by the sudden aggression Hoseok portrayed. It wasn’t the first time you met the hungrier side of Hoseok’s kisses, the sweet taste of urgency and deep desire hit you in waves.

Your mind was going blank with each second spent kissing him, his lips always had a way of making you feel dizzy. He only pulled away when you two heard people coming your way.

“Sorry, I just…” You grabbed his tie, pulling him in again for another kiss. You pulled away before you got overwhelmed again.

“See you at the end of the day, Hobi.” You said, walking back to class and hiding your face in your textbook. It’s only fair if you teased him a little bit too, right?

You walked to your locker, expecting to see Hoseok leaning against the one next to you as usual but seeing two girls walk up to him. One of them handed Hoseok something before running off with their friend and you tried to pretend you didn’t see.

“Hey, cutie.”

“Hi.”

“How monotonous, did something happen? Did you fight those girls again?” You could see he was fumbling with the item that girl gave him and it only sparked your curiosity.

“No, Hoseok.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.” Except that you liked him.

“It’s nothing, really. Let’s just go.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but he dropped it when you took his hand and began to pull him along.

“I’m sorry about this morning… I wanted to talk to you about the festival since it’ll be the first one I wanted to go to…”

“Oh.” Is it because of you? Y/N, don’t get ahead of yourself, maybe there’s going to be something that he really wants to do at the festival…

“I heard there was going to be some special booth, I need to check it out.”

“That sounds cool.”

“Yeah, I wonder if there are prizes…” You absentminded agreed, regretting that you didn’t take the opportunity to see if he was wondering about going together. 

What Minyoung said earlier has struck a chord with you, how long could Hoseok be comfortable with whatever you two were until he’s had enough? Your mind replays the two girls coming up to him, Eun Ae’s attempts to shamelessly flirt with Hoseok in front of you and chase you off. If it wasn’t Hoseok getting sick of you, maybe it’ll be the girls that are actively pursuing him…

“Earth to Y/N!”

“Sorry.”

“What were you daydreaming about in that pretty head of yours?”

“Would you like some tea?” You blurted out, that oddly being the first thing that came to mind. He nodded, you led the way to your apartment and fumbling with your keys to open the door.

“It’s just as cozy as I remember it.”

“Let me get the kettle on.” You took off your shoes, put on slippers and grabbed the kettle from the cupboard. Hoseok took a seat at your table, you sat down across from him and Jingle walked along the table.

“Hey, Jingle.” He petted her back, she purred in response and you smiled at Hoseok played with her a bit.

“I didn’t think you were a cat person.”

“I just really like cute things, like you.”

“Do you ever get tired of saying that kind of stuff?”

“No, I know you secretly like it. You always smile when I say stuff like that.”

“When?”

“How about right now?” He poked your cheek, you trying to keep a straight face while he kept poking.

“Knock it off!”

“See? I don’t even have to say anything either.”

“I’m checking the kettle.” You got up, hearing the familiar whistle and grabbing two cups.

“What kind of tea would you-” Hoseok was in front of you, reaching for the tea on the second shelf and you pressed into the counter.

“Chamomile… Orange… Cinnamon…” He put one down on the counter, next to you and his hand rested next to it. You were cornered by him, his smirk confirmed that he knew it too and you knew what came next.

“Y/N? Are you in the kitchen?” You dad said, walking in on the two of you and you shoved Hoseok away as your father’s eyes widened.

You awkwardly stirred in some sugar for your cup of tea, your father looking at Hoseok at the table. It was already awkward between you and your father but to add Hoseok to the mix… You didn’t want him to see this side of your life…

“So, you go to school with Y/N?”

“Yes, sir. We’re in the same grade.”

“Ah. Are you two friends?”

“Oh, well…” Hoseok looked at you, you met his eyes for a second before looking away. God, what were you two?

“We are, dad.”

“Y/N is an amazing friend. I can tell how precious Y/N is to you by the way she is. So wise, kind, righteous and honest…” Yet you haven’t told him how you honestly felt about him…

“My Y/N… it looks like you’ve found a friend that sees how precious you are.”

“She means a lot to me, sir.” He took your hand, your intertwined fingers resting on your thigh closest to Hoseok and you smiled shyly. You glanced at your dad, seeing him smiling at the two of you before looking at you.

“Please stay for dinner, I want to know more about Y/N at school.”

“It’s up to Y/N if she’d like me to.” They both looked at you, you only nodded in response and began to cook dinner for the three of you.

You listened a little to your father and Hoseok’s conversation, the two of them seeming to be comfortable talking to one another without you. It’s expected of Hoseok, he always had his way with people, always knowing what to say, what to do.

You made do with the groceries you brought a few days ago, making dumpling soup and serving your father and Hoseok first before joining them with your own bowl.

“Wait, dad, why are you hiding your phone?”

“It’s nothing, sweetie.”

“Hoseok?” You turned to him, Hoseok avoiding eye contact with you and your eyes shifted between the two of them.

“Let’s eat. Thank you for the meal.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” The two of them dug in and you ate with them, making sure they would drink something in between. They both pay their stomachs in unison after finishing dinner and you cleaned up the bowls.

“Need some help?”

“I’m fine, Hoseok.” He leaned against the counter as you washed the dishes and dried your hands with a cloth.

“Sweetie?”

“Yes, dad?”

“You should walk Hoseok home, just to make sure that he’s okay.”

“Okay.” You put on your shoes, following Hoseok out the door and he took your hand as always.

“It’s cool to see your dad, maybe not how he caught us…”

“I’m glad he’s warming up to you. I don’t really bring people over anymore.”

“I feel honoured.”

“I’m glad you were there for me…again…”

“I’ll always be there for you. Always.” He kissed your hand; did you really deserve him?

“Good night, Hoseok.”

“Night, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead before you walked off, waving to Hoseok and running home. Your dad was sitting on the couch when you got home, you awkwardly walking towards him and he spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for not being there for you after what happened… I’m glad that you grew up so beautifully, finding people that treat you as preciously as I should have.”

“Dad...” He went over to you, engulfing you in a hug and you broke down.

You used to live with your parents in a normal home, being a traditional family and your parents loved you unconditionally. At least, on the surface. You still remember your mother tucking you in for bed one night, singing you a lullaby before kissing your forehead. That was the last time you saw her again. She took off into the night, taking everything, her car, her clothes, her jewellery along with your father’s heart.

Your father turned to alcohol and work, you turned to school and never looked to each other for comfort. The two of you were depending on everything else except each other, the only other person who could know how it felt when your mother left.

“You’re all I have left, Y/N.” He said as he let you cry into his chest. These were the words you were missing… Thank you, Hoseok…

“I never thought you were the type to wear pigtails.”

“Eh? What are you talking about?” You were having lunch with Hoseok, him randomly bringing up this topic unless…

“He showed you?!” You squeaked, Hoseok laughing at your expense. That explains why he kept smiling at his phone, your dad sent him some of your photos from when you were younger.

“Delete them.”

“So demanding. This isn’t the Y/N I know.”

“Jung Hoseok.”

“Why~ You looked so cute, it’s nice to know that you were cute all your life.”

“Hoseok!”

“Tell you what, if you can reach my phone I’ll let you delete them.” He stretched his arm out, you reached over to grab his phone. You ended up in his lap, still trying to grab his phone and only being able to touch the screen when his lockscreen popped up. It was a photo of you, you looked surprised as if you caught him trying to sneak a photo of you while you weren’t looking.

“I’m your lockscreen.”

“It’s the first thing I want to see when I wake up.”

“So cheesy.”

“What can I say? It’s my favourite photo of you, after the one of you on the swings.”

“You took a photo of me then, too?” You two stopped by a park sometimes, just talking about your day and things you were excited about. Hoseok would occasionally have his phone, looking like he was texting someone, but you never noticed it.

“Ha, I just tattled on myself, didn’t I?”

“You did but I don’t mind… I want to capture moments of you too.” You looked at him, seeing him blush and he laughed it off.

“So well articulated, Y/N.” Maybe you need to make more of an impact.

“I meant it, Hobi.”

“I-I need to get to class.” You got out his lap, Hoseok rushing out and you frowned. Was it too much?

It was the day of the festival, the past few days leading up to it made you extremely nervous around Hoseok again. You’ve come to terms with yourself, knowing that you’ve liked Hoseok this whole time, but you just didn’t feel like you were… worthy to?

Your mind would think back to Eun Ae, someone who captured Hoseok’s heart at some point, how the two of you were polar opposites in every way. Then, Hoseok would remind you of why he liked you or say something stupid and cheesy that takes your mind off it.

He was sure about you. And you needed to show him that you felt the same.

“Y/N! Your dad let me in.” Minyoung walked into your room, you currently looking for an outfit. You were trying to find something that would catch his eye as the online article on confessing said you should do…

“Need some help?”

“Yes, please.” She laughed a little, walking over to you and the two of you rummaged through your closet. You didn’t have any many options, but you decided on an old skater dress you had and your old black tights.

“Y/N, how could you always look this good? I’m jealous.”

“Min, you know you’re really pretty too.”

“You’re way too humble, no wonder you and Hobi get along so well.”

“I guess we do…” You smiled, Minyoung nudged you and you looked at her. She wiggled her eyebrows in response and you nudged her back. She changed into the clothes she brought with her, you bombarded her with compliments and the two of you head out.

“Don’t be out too late, Y/N.”

“I won’t, dad.” You said before leaving, walking to your school where the festival was taking place. Lanterns light up a path with many booths on either side of you. There were children running around, couples walking hand in hand and people waiting at booths. You saw Namjoon who ran over to the two of you, giving you a hug and kissing Minyoung.

“Where’s Hoseok?”

“He said he’ll show up, dunno when though?”

“Oh.”

“We can hang out, though.” You smiled at Minyoung’s offer, knowing they were just being nice, so you just went along with them. Once in a while, you find yourself searching for Hoseok in the crowd, or checking your phone to see if he texted you.

“I can call him if you’d like.”

“It’s fine, Namjoon. Maybe he’s busy or something.” Maybe he doesn’t want to see me…

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, there are some things I want to see. Don’t wait for me, okay?” You said, walking in the opposite direction of the two of them. Maybe you’ve missed him or something, or maybe he decided not to come?

You sat on the edge of the fountain, people passing you as you stared at your phone. Wishing that you’d hear your text tone and see Hoseok’s name appear on your screen… Your phone buzzed, you immediately picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N?

“Hoseok? Where are you?”

I’m near the fortune tree, meet me here?

You hung up, running in the direction of the tree and looking for him.

“You got here fast.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He took your hand, leading you to a bench and the two of you sat. It was comfortable as you let yourself catch your breath and thought about what you had to say.

“I heard this festival has a legend to it.”

“What is it?”

“Couples that confess to each other on this day will never break up.”

“I hope it’s true.”

“Hey, Y/N…”

“Yes?” Is he asking you out?

“Do you want to write a fortune with me?”

“O-oh…” You two walked over to a table with blank fortune cards, each of you writing your own and Hoseok being particularly secretive with his before putting it in an envelope and tying it to the fortune tree.

“Is there anything you want to do?”

“Can we go somewhere quieter?” He nodded, taking your hand and leading you to the bridge near your school. The steady stream of water calmed you down as you two leaned against the rails of the bridge.

“Hoseok…” He looked at you, you took a deep breath before continuing.

“I know this is long overdue and I should have said this sooner, but I didn’t know how I truly felt. You bring out sides of me that I didn’t know existed, embraced parts of me that I was ashamed of and loved the parts I hated the most. I didn’t think I deserved to say that I love you, but I love you so much, Jung Hoseok. I love you.” You didn’t realize you were shaky until he put his hands on your shoulders. His hands grabbed yours, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you.

It was soft and sweet, his lips gently pressed against yours.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to hear that.”

“I think you showed me, Seokie.”

“Seokie? I like that. But I think there’s one thing I’d like to be called more.”

“What is that?”

“Your boyfriend.”

Always the smooth talker, isn’t he? Your boyfriend, Jung Hoseok.

#bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts hoseok #bts hoseok smut #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts angst #bts hoseok fluff #bts hoseok angst #Hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios #kpop fanfic #bts x you #hoseok x you #kpop fanfiction #jung hoseok #bts fanfic #angst #fluff #smut #bts reader insert

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Explain to me how if you’re my guard why I’m the one always saving your life? Prince Nico to the rescue of royal guard Will Solace... maybe

i actually felt so inspired by this (after so long - have you forgotten about this already?) that i wrote this in one sitting. hard to believe since it’s an absolute monster (not really, but 5332 words is a lot to write in one siting)

it’s late where i am, and so im going to be bad and not review this like i should,, forgive me if things don’t make sense or if there are typos. perhaps tomorrow (later today) i’ll post the edited/revised version on ao3

without further ado:

“Well, this is certainly a sticky situation,” Will said, because he was at the moment stuck to a wall. A rather archaic trap, but effective, apparently.

No one laughed at his joke, but he figured that was fair. He wasn’t laughing either, but he was smiling like a lunatic. An unfortunate side effect of a dizzying concoction nerves and confidence born of escaping many sticky situations without too much trouble.

“Gentlemen,” Will said conversationally, casually trying to pull his sword arm out of the tar his entire front side was glued to. “I’m sure we can talk this out.” The scent of it was pure awful, burnt rubber invading not only the nostril that was fully submerged, but the free one as well. He was already mourning his natural scent of sawdust and daisies that he always thought made him seem quite fetching. Now he would smell like the lovechild of a (non-romantic) fire and one of those monstrous machines that were becoming quite popular with Prince Nico’s Uncle Hephaestus. Fabulous, really.

It seemed the nice gentlemen didn’t want to talk it out because one of them wrapped his filthy fingers in Will’s (previously) freshly washed hair, yanking him back and causing a wonderful tearing sensation to begin to take root in the skin and hair stuck in the tar and the skin and hair that wasn’t stuck in the tar.

“Where’s the prince,” he growled in his ear, making the phrase seem much more like a statement than a question.

“Interesting that you should ask that,” Will said, wincing when the man pulled harder and actually pulled Will’s face out of the tar. He wondered vaguely if his eyebrow had survived. “I’m starting to wonder as well.”

The man slammed Will’s face back into the tar rather harshly and then spat tobacco on the side of Will’s face that had previously been clean.

“We’re not going to get anything out of him,” one of the other men said. “He’s trained by the Royal Guard.”

“That is true,” Will pointed out. “And I could tell you wonderful stories of my times during training. You know, there was this one night when my cohorts and I snuck out-”

“Could someone please shut him up?”

“I wish whoever the brave soul is luck in that endeavor,” Will said because he’d just caught sight of a lingering shadow in the one window that was in his line of eyesight.

The same filthy man from before (Will recognized him by his pungent scent of garbage that had fermented in the sun for a couple of days) leaned in again, his foul-smelling breath mixing with the already foul air of the tar. “You got something up your sleeve, pretty boy?”

“You think I’m pretty?” Will asked just as the front door of the cabin exploded.

Chaos ensued, although much of it Will was unable to see. He heard the familiar growls and barks of Nico’s three headed wolf and the screams of the men that had been holding him, and he assumed enough.

When a heavy silence descended over the room and only the heavy breathing of the wolf heads remained, he ventured to speak. “Well, I must admit that you’ve saved me from a rather sticky situation.”

He heard a sigh. The sheathing of a sword. “How many times have you made that joke since getting stuck to the wall?”

“Only enough to be annoying,” Will responded, and in the quiet that followed, Will imagined that Nico was smiling. “Do you have a suggestion on how to free me from my current prison?”

“Mrs. O’Leary,” Nico said, his light feet moving about the room, “please take care of this buffoon.” Mrs. O’Leary, the previously mentioned three headed wolf, bounded over to Will immediately, her three pink tongues digging into the tar surrounding him and lapping it up like it was a particularly nice treat.

“So,” Will drawled as Mrs. O’Leary went to town on his tar-covered trousers, “how’d you spend your hours free of me?”

“The theatre,” Nico responded, followed by the swishing of rope, “followed by a tavern that serves the greasy foods that Persephone’s mother so hates.” More rope, followed by the casual sliding of dead weight on the wooden floor. “And then tracking you down.”

“How exciting.” Mrs. O’Leary had made quick work of his legs and had moved on to his torso. It was torture to resist laughing. “Tell me, my dear prince, was it worth it?”

Nico grumbled something unintelligible, and then seemed to purposefully lose himself in the work of tying up the culprits (all of which were still breathing, despite the drama they’d all fussed about it) and gathering them all together.

At last, Will was unstuck from the wall, and he stepped back, stretching out his neck and admiring the Will-shaped hole in the tar. Much still clung to the front of his clothes and the side of his face, but it was better than being stuck. Mrs. O’Leary propped her paws up on his shoulders and slobbered happily over his face.

Will was a relatively smart man, and so he kept his mouth firmly closed during this ordeal, although he kept an eye open and observed the prince.

He was standing, back straight and positively regal, against a wall. He had unsheathed his sword while waiting for Will to be freed and was polishing the pure black metal with a cloth that Will knew he kept in his bag. His face was tired although his body didn’t seem to be, and his hair looked as if he’d just rolled out bed, directly contrasting the awake posture. There was no crown adorning the messy curls, and Will suspected that was on purpose.

When Mrs. O’Leary had finished with Will’s face and had moved on to the side of his head where (hopefully) hair remained, Will dared to speak.

“I told these nice men that I was the prince, but they didn’t seem to believe me,” Will said, gesturing to the tied up men and crossing his arms as Mrs. O’Leary made his hair stand up only on that one side.

“You look nothing like my father,” Nico said without looking up from his sword. “It’s no wonder they didn’t believe you.”

“Really?” Will asked. “I’ve always thought my nose was quite similar to his.”

Nico finally looked up at him then, dark eyebrow raised. Will could see it took a lot for him to maintain that expression and not break into a fit of laughter, no doubt at Will’s expense. “It seems the tar has had a fight with your eyebrow,” he said, confirming Will’s worst fear.

“Who won?” Will asked, touching the offending eyebrow and immediately knowing the answer. Only a few hairs were left.

“The tar. Most definitely.”

“I’ve sacrificed so much for you, Prince Nico. How much more are you and your dastardly schemes going to cost me?” The was the second time in as many weeks that Will’s glorious (if he did say so himself) appearance had suffered because of Nico. First it was being forced to cut his long, luxurious hair to just around his neck, and now it was this. One whole eyebrow. Gone.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you could save yourself, William,” Nico said, sheathing his sword once more and stuffing the cleaning cloth into his black leather bag. “What’s the good in being my personal knight when I’m the one saving you?”

“You say this as if the reason you’re having to save me isn’t that you are constantly putting me into bad situations,” Will quipped, and Nico scowled

“Is that any way to talk to a prince?”

“I suspect not, but I’m mourning the death of my best eyebrow, so you must excuse me.”

This is what made Nico’s face crack open into a crooked smile. Will thought it belonged right beside the stars. Nico ducked his face, quickly controlling his errant facial muscles and clearing his throat. “We must alert my father immediately concerning the kidnapping attempt,” he said, all prim and proper business as he straightened out his peasants’ shirt.

“These men will have to accompany us on our return to the castle,” Will responded, catching Nico’s stride in conversation and rolling with it. “Mrs. O’Leary will prevent them from leaving while we go and summon a carriage and a pull cart for the prisoners.”

They walked out of the cabin together, Nico having changed back into his princely attire and directing Mrs. O’Leary to stay behind. Will still wore his tar-stained white knight tunic, and he had picked up his golden sword from where it had been tossed when he had first entered the brawl with the unknown gentlemen. He was sure he was quite a sight with half his head all slobbered on and one whole eyebrow gone.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Nico said, a sad attempt at reassurance tinging his voice as he pulled his golden crown out of his bag and fit it atop his curls.

“Well, if you’re saying that, then I know it’s bad.” He tried in vain to comb his wet hair covered in hellhound spit over the empty space, to no avail.

“You’re right. It’s hilarious.” Delivered in a deadpan. Nothing less of the prince, Will supposed.

“Speaking of bad,” Will said, eager to direct the conversation away from his missing eyebrow, “let’s discuss your habit of running away while in my care.”

“I’d rather not,” Nico grumbled.

“I’ve avoided telling your father,” Will continued as if Nico hadn’t spoken, “for your sake as well as my own, but I believe that it has become an excessive and needless problem.” Will cast a sideways glance at Nico as they entered the outskirts of the town. “The other knights say you’re perfectly behaved in their care. It’s only me you despise so much.”

“I don’t despise you,” Nico said, but that was as far as he got because they were then swarmed by townsfolk, demanding to know if it was truly the Prince of the Underworld standing before them. The reached out to him, but Will stood in front of him, hand on the hilt of his sword and eyes narrowed.

“This is indeed the prince you speak of,” Will said, making the line of the crowd push back a few steps. “And so you shall treat him with the respect he deserves.”

They all dropped to a knee or both knees, murmuring their prayers and praises for eternal life and prosperity. For Nico as well as themselves.

Despite Will being certain that Nico was quite embarrassed with this display, he jut his chin out and looked down his impressive hooked nose he’d inherited from his father. “Rise,” he said, and they did. Will stepped to Nico’s right side, hand still on his sword for the purpose of safety. Nico regarded the crowd with his deep set eyes, and then he spoke again. “My knight and I require a carriage for the purpose of returning back to the Underworld. We will also be needing a prisoner’s cart.”

The crowd looked around at each other. “We don’t have a carriage fit for a prince,” said a man with enough authority and sympathy in his voice for everyone to agree.

“A carriage fit for two people, whatever status, will be perfectly fine,” Nico replied, and the people sighed in relief. “The carriage will be returned, and a reward will be paid to its owner, as well as the rest of the town, for your hospitality.”

A chorus of praises rang out, and Will and Nico were escorted to the finest inn to await the preparations of the carriages and the prisoner’s pull cart.

Once they were alone enough, Will looked over at Nico, smiling broadly at him. “So you don’t despise me,” he prompted. Nico scowled.

“I’ll have your other eyebrow shaved off in your sleep.”

The men, after an interrogation conducted by Will that lasted far less of a time that he thought it would, were low-level criminals hired by an unknown person to kidnap the prince. For reasons unknown. What a great help they were, truly.

Will’s eyebrow grew back slowly and painfully, and he found himself checking its progress everyday in any mirror or flat surface of water when he had the chance. It had finally reached acceptable levels when Will was caught preening at his reflection in the waters of a fountain that stood in Persephone’s garden.

“One Narcissus is enough,” Nico said, and Will stood up from his perch on the fountain, saluting him and then breaking into a grin.

“At least I wasn’t making kissy faces at myself,” Will said, relaxing as Nico sat down on the fountain ledge and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You were far too close for my liking.”

“So what is to your liking?”

Nico’s eyes fell to his lap, and he turned away from Will, facing the fountain waters. He seemed almost like he had started counting the amount of golden coins that had been thrown into the magical waters.

“What brings you through the gardens in such a late hour?” Will asked, making Nico lose count of the coins.

“Well,” Nico said, still not looking at him and instead fiddling with his thumbs. “I was planning to sneak out.”

“Ooh,” Will cooed, sitting beside Nico at a safe distance for the both of them. “And you’re actually telling me as opposed to keeping me in the dark?”

“I’ll run now if you continue being strange about it,” Nico snapped, and Will laughed.

“Sorry, pretty prince. I’ll stay quiet.” Will mimed zipping his mouth shut. The pretty prince glared at him, pale face ablaze with a pink blush.

“There’s a festival Upstairs that I’ve been wanting to attend,” Nico continued, not breaking eye contact with Will, probably out of spite. “My father doesn’t like the idea because of the hitmen from that time-”

“Smart man.”

“-And I know he’s warned the knights about being persuaded by me-”

“This is true,” Will admitted with a nod. Hades had made the announcement earlier that day.

“-But I know that you have some things that you’d prefer my father not know,” Nico finished, expression blazing and determined. Will couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Yes,” Nico replied without hesitation.

“Prince Nico,” Will said, smiling a shaking his head, “if you wanted to invite me to the festival, all you had to do was ask.”

“So you’ll take me?”

“Sweet prince,” Will said, patting Nico’s cheek. “Absolutely not.”

Nico blanched, his perpetual scowl turning fierce. “But you just said-”

“That I’d be delighted to accompany you on a nice date through a festival, yes,” Will said, standing up and stretching out his limbs. “However, as much as you think I’m an idiot, I still believe in my duty to you and you father.” He offered a hand to Nico, which he took, and he helped the prince stand. “I swore to never purposely put you in harms’ way, and I plan to stand by that.”

“Why is it now that you choose to be valiant?” Nico asked, dropping his hand and shaking his head.

“Oh, little prince, I’ve always been valiant,” Will said, planting a hand on the small of Nico’s back and guiding him out of the gardens. “You’ve just never given me a chance to show off.”

Will took him back to his bedroom, making sure to keep his feet safely outside of the threshold. “Please sleep, Prince Nico,” Will said as Nico glared up at him. “Perhaps next year I can accompany you to this festival you so desire to attend.”

“Yeah, next year,” Nico scoffed, and then punched Will so hard in the jaw that stars danced in his eyes. He fell to the floor, and all went black.

Will woke up to a splitting headache and the familiar rumble of a carriage. Except the rumble was making his head rumble, and that was neither familiar nor pleasant. He groaned. His jaw throbbed.

“It’s good that you’re awake,” a nice voice said. Prince Nico. “We’re almost there.”

“You punched me,” Will said, opening his eyes and glaring over to Nico, who sat leisurely across from him.

“And cast a sleep spell on you,” Nico said, as if this wasn’t extremely offensive and criminal.

“For what purpose?” Will asked, sitting up and rubbing his aching jaw. He noted the warmth and weight of Mrs. O’Leary beside him with her heads resting in his lap. He gave her a pat.

Nico looked out the carriage window, scowling.

“I’ll find a way to turn this carriage around,” Will threatened.

“I’m never allowed freedom,” Nico muttered after a small space of silence. “Always guarded, always protected, as if I was never taught to defend myself.”

“You’re the only heir to an important kingdom - arguably the most important,” Will said. “What do you expect?”

“My father can walk outside of his kingdom, and he can do it without a bodyguard or a knight in shining armor.”

“Your father is also objectively terrifying.”

Nico’s sharp gaze turned on him. “Are you saying I’m not?”

“I must admit I’m biased,” Will said, and Nico rolled his eyes.

“Everyone is always preventing me from going out because of some mysterious threat,” Nico continued, shaking his head. “As if I won’t be threatened for my entire life. These things happen, and they happen, and they happen, and they never stop happening. And I’m told to cower in the face of things happening.”

Will pursed his lips. “What are you trying to prove, Prince?”

Nico turned his steady gaze to Will, all sharp angles and contrast. “That I’m not afraid to have fun.”

Having fun with Nico was probably the best thing that Will had ever semi-chosen to do. Nico was dressed in his peasants’ clothes, and he forced some on Will, too, and so they blended into the crowds of festival goers.

There were bright lights hung up on strings and stalls that glowed with the promise of prizes or food or both, and it was divine to hold Nico’s waist while attempting not to lose him in the crowd and pretend.

Pretend that they weren’t a knight and a prince. Pretend that they weren’t bound together by duty. Pretend that things were very different.

They took a break from the games at an empty picnic table, the spoils of their dominating the festivals games stuffed into cheap moleskine bags that they put by their feet. In front of them was a single plate of something fried and sweet with strawberry sauce, and already their fingers were covered in sugar and grease. Mrs. O’Leary sat upright, begging for a taste, and Nico let her lick three of his fingers.

“Now you know what you missed out on every time you abandoned me,” Will teased. “A good time with lots of laughs.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Nico said, swatting at the air. He didn’t look annoyed or angry, though, and in fact looked as though a smile was fighting its way to the surface.

“It’s okay to do that more often, you know,” Will said, lost in the pretend.

“What?” Nico asked, looking up from the plate of sugar. The smile was there, caught in the phase before its birth, right when it started to sparkle in his eyes.

“Smile,” Will said, pretending it didn’t take his breath away when the smile broke across Nico’s face. “It’s quite stunning.” Brighter than the festival lights, that’s for sure.

“And you wonder why I always ran from you,” Nico said, shaking his head and hiding his smile with another mouthful of the sugary sweet.

Will was still trying to figure out how to respond when someone yanked his head back and cold metal was pressed against his throat. Given that it was sharp and uncomfortable, Will guessed it was a knife. Nico stood, unsheathing his sword in the same breath as when the knife touched Will’s throat but more attackers surrounded the table. Mrs. O’Leary leaned close to the ground, growls low in her throats.

“Move and he dies,” said the person holding Will’s hair.

“What business?” Will asked, putting on his best imperial voice and tilting back his head to look his attacker in the eye. He was wearing a mask, a ridiculous one from the festival, and it wasn’t hard for Will to metaphorically look down his nose at him.

“We’re here for Prince Nico di Angelo of the Underworld, renowned dark sorcerer, heir to King Hades,” said one of the other attackers, also wearing a festival mask. That must’ve been how they were able to slip under Will’s radar, disregarding his distracted state.

“This is he,” Will replied coolly, and the group of attackers advanced. Nico opened his mouth, but Will shot him a look.

“The smaller one looks like him,” one of them commented, and Will rolled his eyes.

“We are wearing glamours,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That one is my white knight, disguised as me in the case of this kind of event.”

The attackers shifted uncomfortably. “You’re lying,” said the man holding the knife to Will’s throat.

“Am I?” Will challenged. “See how quickly he drew his sword. See how he is ready to defend me although there are so many of you. He only stopped because I started talking.”

Will was sure Nico would slap him for this later.

None of the attackers seemed to be able to argue with his logic, but none of them were willing to take it at face value. The knife at his throat pressed harder. “Why would you expose your ruse if you are the prince?”

“I would like to survive the night,” Will quipped. The knife dug in harder.

“That’s not enough.”

“And I love him,” Will blurted out, acting as if the words hurt him to say out loud. They did, but in a different way than what he was portraying. He cast his eyes downwards. “I love him, and I would rather be taken than allow him to fall by your hands.”

The attackers laughed, and Will raised his eyes to lock gazes with Nico. He was surprised, he could tell, but Will didn’t bother wasting precious facial expressions when he was being so closely watched.

“Please,” he sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Take me and spare him.”

“Don’t do this, Prince,” Nico warned.

“My only wish is for you to be safe, my love,” Will said, opening his eyes and leveling a look heavy with meaning at him. “Safe and happy.”

Nico seemed to be relaxing into his character. His sword hand dropped, and he leaned forward, pleading and open. “How could I ever be happy without you by my side to protect?” he asked, and Will actually felt his heart squeeze in response.

He turned his face away. “Do not make this harder than it has to be, darling. Let me go.” Nico was a really good actor. He looked as though his heart was breaking.

“What a show,” the man holding Will’s head snarled. He yanked Will up so that he was standing, knife still pressed against his throat. “Beck and Selina, stay behind and take care of the knight. The rest of you come with me.”

Will was paraded off, the knife coming off from his neck as they entered the crowded parts of the festival and taking its place at the small of his back. “Scream, little prince, and I’ll make sure your death is slow and torturous.” Will nodded silently.

He was unceremoniously shoved into a carriage, a blindfold tied around his eyes and a gag stuffed into his mouth. The tied his wrists behind his back and took away his sword. And then they laughed and talked about normal things, as if they were normal and not currently kidnapping someone.

About an hour passed (Will had counted), and then he was paraded off the carriage and into someplace cold, and then to someplace cold and dark, where he heard locks clicking and the laughter fading. He counted, and prayed Nico was okay.

A day passed on the floor of the cold cellar - surely it must’ve been a cellar with how cold and damp it was - with no change. Will was hungry, but not starving, and although he was cold, he wasn’t freezing. All free thoughts were spent praying that Nico had made it to safety.

He was less sure the more time passed.

Another day passed, and then another. He was dehydrated and weak and probably the worst situation he’d ever been in because of Nico. But he didn’t blame him. He only begged the gods that he’d made it home safe.

It was during the third day that Will was forced up and poked and prodded through hallways and up staircases until his was panting with the effort to keep his balance. And then a hand shoved at his back, and he was forced to catch himself with his knees on hard, cold floor.

“Remove the blindfold,” said a rasping, cold voice that fit right in with the atmosphere. The blindfold was removed.

The bright light of day was harsh on Will’s sensitive eyes, and he was forced to close them right after he opened them. Slowly, he opened his eyes again, though they watered and burned, and he raised his face to stare at his captor.

It was a man withering away. Centimeters from death, though it looked as if he was closer to simply turning to ash. His hair was long and gray and brittle, seamlessly blending in with his beard, which matched the color of his robes, which matched the color of his skin. The only hint that he was alive at all was the surreal glow of his golden eyes, disks of color pressed into a statue of a dying man.

He sat on a throne made of gold, and the rest of the room was a mess of black and white. But Will spared only a glance at that. He focused on the man’s eyes, defiant without saying a word.

“You’re glamour has lasted a long time,” the old man said, as if it was a joke.

“No less quality expected for a prince,” Will replied, his voice rough and grating without an ounce of water to smooth it out.

“Where is the prince?”

“You’re looking at him,” Will replied, and there was a kick to Will’s back that made him double over in an attempt to catch his breath.

“He knows you’re lying,” said the voice of the man who’d captured him.

“Luke,” the old man chastised, “let’s be nice to our guest.” The golden disks had never left Will. He knew this even though there were no pupils to speak of. “I will ask you again. Where is the prince?”

He was asking it so nicely, but Will felt the aura of power and dread. He wasn’t a fool.

“Perhaps you should listen to what I’ve told you,” Will said, catching his breath. “You’re looking at him.”

“Tell us where the prince is, and your life will be spared,” the man said, sounding bored.

An unexplainable hope barreled through Will’s traitorous heart, and he found himself saying: “The prince is here.”

The man sighed, waving a frail hand. “Take him away.”

The one called Luke hauled Will to his feet rather roughly, and then shoved him to the door. And then the door burst open, and Will whirled, kneeing Luke between the legs and diving to the side as Prince Nico barged into the room, slashing Luke with the knife so quickly, the boy had no time to dodge the blade as it tore open the skin of his face. Luke cried out, falling to the ground and pressing his hands over the bleeding gash.

Nico stood like a knight, black sword unsheathed and sharp face positively warrior-like as he stared down the man in the chair. The air crackled with power, and then Will laughed.

“I told you,” he said, and then Nico helped Will to his feet as he continued laughing. The man said nothing.

“I will be taking what’s mine now,” Nico said, throwing out a hand and making the shadows of the room circle around each other to make a portal. He was just about the push Will through when the man spoke.

“I will find you again, Nico,” he said, calmly, patiently. “And when I do, you will be giving me what I want.”

“You’ll find me again, Kronos,” Nico said, just as calmly. “But I’ll find you first.”

And with that, he pushed Will through the portal and then jumped in after him.

When Will woke up, Prince Nico was resting his head on the hospital bed, fast asleep even as he clutched one of Will’s hands in his own.

Will had been catching up on the nutrients he’d missed out on while in captivity, and on sleep, which he’d been doing most of the hours of the day. Nico had visited over the past couple of days, but this type of vulnerability was uncommon. Will nudged him awake.

“Hey, pretty prince.”

“You’re feeling better,” Nico grumbled shifting and rubbing his face with his free hand. Will noticed that he didn’t let go of Will’s hand, and he tried not to focus on that too much.

“You’re entirely correct,” Will said, voice quiet even though he had his own personal room. But it was still dark, and it felt wrong to speak too loudly. “I feel ready to take on a few hydras and perhaps some greasy food.”

“You’ll throw it all up,” Nico replied, his voice rough with sleep.

“You sure know how to talk sweet to me,” Will teased, and Nico looked away. “But you’re correct. I would probably throw up all the hydras.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nico said, and Will laughed, keeping it low in his throat, closer to his heart.

“You should be more clear with what you mean.”

“You first,” Nico quipped back.

“That’s fair,” Will said reasonably. “I meant that hydra skin is so tough and an absolute hellion to cook, and so eating it at present would be-” He stopped, laughing again when he saw Nico’s scowl. “Kidding.”

“I don’t know why I saved you,” Nico grumbled, burrowed his face into the hospital blankets.

“Well, technically, I saved you first,” Will said.

Nico shifted so that he could see Will, and one of his starry smiles pulled at his lips. “Then that makes us even.” He squeezed Will’s hand, and Will’s heart skipped a beat in response.

“You’re entirely unfair,” Will whispered, and the smile spread over Nico’s face, lighting up his eyes and showing his teeth, almost against his will.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Will squeezed his hand and brought it up to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to Nico’s knuckles.

A beat of stunned silence. Nico’s face was blazing.

“And you’re calling me unfair,” Nico said. “What was that for?”

“Saving me,” Will said, kissing Nico’s knuckles again.

Nico blinked, his breath hitching. “And that one?”

“Because I wanted to,” Will said, pressing another kiss to his knuckles. “Because I meant it when I said I wanted you to be happy and safe.” Another kiss. “Because I meant it when I said I loved you.”

It was a confession. A dangerous one, and they both knew it.

But Nico just ducked his head, pulling their conjoined hands down to his lips, and pressing a kiss of his own to Will’s knuckles. “Because I meant it when I said I couldn’t be happy without you by my side.”

It was dangerous. It was probably looked down upon. But when they fell asleep again, dawn close and warm, their hands were still together, and smiles rested on their lips. The waking sun didn’t wake them, but it welcomed them with open arms.

thanks for reading!

#solangelo #solangelo fic #it's been a while #it was actually quite surprising i could write this so easily #since ive always done things from nico's side #will is a breath of fresh air #isn't he? #as a reminder im still open for requests BUT unlike in the past #i may not be answering/writing every single prompt #and that's just how it be sometimes #i thank you for your support regardless of that changes your opinion of me #i hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

[bnha-nova]

P.o.s (now ex) boyfriends

A/N Not a request jsut something that I’ve had on my mind for a while. Please pay attention to the warnings. pretty angsty j/s. Under the cut because i have zero adult sence of self conrol

*** Warnings: Domestic violence mentions, as well as pregnancy some people don't like that so I figured that I would let you know***

How would Bakugo, Iida, and Todoroki react to their Hero assistants (whom they’ve had feelings for, for an embarrassingly long amount of time) showing up to work with obvious bruises under their make up? How would they react to finding out that they were caused by Assistant!readers boyfriend?

*This is in the future the guys are about 24-26 ish and are established pro heros.

Bakugo Katsuki

Calling him livid would be an understatement he was almost as pissed at himself for not noticing sooner than he was at your piece of shit boyfriend for putting his hands on you period!

He felt like shit because you felt like you had to hide something like this from him. You’d been his very first assistant and you’ve worked for him happily since he’d agreed to hire you 3 years ago.

You were the person that taught him that it was ok to accept help when he needed it and you’d never made him admit it out loud.

You were the one person in this world that he knew he could count on for anything from making him the perfect cup of coffee to making sure that he remembers to eat when the world got busy.

It would be a lie if he said you weren't his best friend. Just like it would be another boldly-faced like if he said he didn't love you to a dangerous extent.

He’s loved you for a long time.

So long that it was stupid and to be honest the only reason why he’d done nothing was that you were a faithful person. No matter how much you would complain about your boyfriend being the biggest asshole on earth (even bigger than Katsuki, you’ve told him a thousand times) he didn't question your devotion to him for a second.

He knew that if he told you about his feelings you’d just leave. He’s fired people for you before because others flirting with you made you feel uncomfortable.

It wasn't until this very moment that he learned exactly why it made you uncomfortable.

“We were on a train and I-.” You sobbed into the mirror behind the bathroom sink. The only reason why he was here was that he’d heard you crying.

He was glad he demanded you to unlock the door, otherwise the concealer that was sitting on the countertop would have hidden the large handprint bruise that covered nearly the whole left side of your face.

“Y/n tell me what the fuck happened on the train.” He demanded.

“It wasn't on the train, it was when we got back h-home.” You sighed shaking as you used a paper towel to try your best to clean up the running make up from your face.

“You mean your boyfriend did this to you?!” Bakugo snapped grabbing your chin so he could better see the extent of the damage, immediately regretting it because of the way you flinched at his touch and the way your eyes widened in what was undeniably fear.

“This guy looked at me and I- I didn't tell him to stop. I didn't even fucking see him Katsuki, you know I would have told him to stop!” You whimpered insistently as you moved to wipe the pooling tears out of your face as you removed his hand in the process.

“Your piece of shit boyfriend was with you if he saw it why didn't he stop it if it was such a big fucking deal?!” He snapped again unable to control his tone and volume.

“Because he-,” “Because he’s a fucking pussy who needs to get his ass beat that's why!” Your hot headed boss snapped before tearing his way out of the restroom nearly ripping the door off the handle in the process.

You hurried after him begging him to stop, slow down, just listen to you.

“Please, don't, just listen to me!” You begged. And he stopped his shoulders tense and fists at his side clenched so hard you could see his knuckles turning white. “Why?! Listen to you tell me how the two of you’ve already worked shit out? About how he’ll never fucking do it again?!” He snapped. Now he knows what you meant any time you’d said that the two of you had fought. About how the bruises on your arms weren't just because you were a little clumsy.

You’ve been getting hurt under his watch and he’ll never forgive himself for it.

“if you do something like this, its just going to get worse for me. Don't you get that?!” You hissed at him and he turned back to you.

“Not if I blast his arms off of his body.” He growled through clenched teeth. He was pissed that was for sure but there was also something that you’d never seen and never in your life thought you would see.

Tears.

They might have been from the anger or frustration but they were tears and that broke your heart.

“Yeah, and then I’d have to wipe his ass for him 24-7. Do you really think he’d let me step foot back in here?” You asked your voice much softer now, motioning to the agency doors that the two of you stood in front of.

“Why in the fuck does he have this power over you?” Katsuki asked as he violently whipped the tears off of his face. “He treats you like fucking dirt, puts his god damn hands on you and you just want to forget it ever happened? You wanna keep going home to him so he can beat the shit out of you again?!” He asked almost exasperatedly.

“Where else do you expect me to go?! I have no one and nowhere other than him Katsuki do you understand that? You have all of this money and all of these friends and fans from your fucking high horse you don't understand what the outcome of me leaving him is!” You were the one snapping now.

“Well, you're more of a fucking idiot than I took you for a second ago!” Bakugo snarled. “Because you have me, you have my home and my money. If you think for a fucking second that I wouldn't pay your rent just for you to not live with that bastard anymore then you're to god damn stupid for your own good!” He ranted giving you pause.

Him?

“What do you mean?” You asked your voice quiet again.

“What I said, I’ll do any god damn thing you want me to for you to not go back to him.” He said his voice cracking.

“I just fucking love your dumb ass too much to let you go back for anything else but to pack your shit.” Bakugo Katsuki speaking with a weak voice? Were you dreaming right now? “And you’re sure as hell not doing that alone either.”

Iida Tenya

You were crying again he noticed. Not that he actually saw tears or heard whimpers but the way your eyes were red and puffy as well as how your lip still quivered told him that you and your boyfriend had fought again.

About what this time he didn't know, all he knew was that your boyfriend had a habit of being unfaithful.

How many times now has he thought about asking you to just run away? Runaway and be with him, let him protect you and let him make you happy. Probably close to a hundred times just today.

He did his best to make you smile, joked, he knew you thought it was funny when he took things to seriously so he tried that, he even offered to beat up your boyfriend only to have you get teary eyed again and excuse yourself from his presence.

He hated this.

Not being able to help you.

I mean he could but not without the risk that you’d hate him for it. He knew that you loved your boyfriend dearly and that made it worse when he treated you like garbage. You didn't deserve any of it.

You deserved to be treated like the royalty you are, the way he knows he’d treat you if he had a shred of a chance of you accepting it.

Days when you were sad like this he dreamed of being your knight in shining armor and sweeping you away from harm. He could treat you so much better, and he wanted to tell you so.

But he knew that was out of line, inappropriate.

As unhappy as your relationship was it was still a relationship and it wasn't in his place to intervene. He was by all intense and purposes your boss and literally the guy who wrote your paychecks.

But he was also someone you considered a close and very trusted friend. You’d told him so on several occasions.

He wondered when would be a good time to stage some kind of an intervention, something where he tells you how unhealthy the relationship you're in now is and you actually listen to him instead of shutting down the idea that you’d be happier without your boyfriend.

That you’d be much happier with him.

Then he’d have a reason to give you the over the top Christmas, birthday and valentines day gifts that he’s accumulated over the years. They were gifts that a boss really doesn't have the right to give an employee but he couldn't help himself.

He just loves you so much.

Too much to let you keep going through the revolving door of abuse.

Especially today.

You’d forgotten about the scarf you’d wore to the agency this morning, removing it once you were safely in the privacy of your own office because it was a little stuffy. If you wore it around no one would think much it was winter so, if there ever was a good time to have a handprint around your neck this was it.

Your boss who let himself in the office without knocking didn't seem to agree as you quickly tried to cover it up and he refused to let you.

“Y/N what happened?!” He asked worry creasing his face.

“Don't worry about it, everything's fine now.” You said pushing him away stepping back to put a little bit of distance between you and him.

“Everythings fine now?” He asked quietly at first his voice pure confusion. “EVERYTHINGS FINE?! Y/N WHAT ABOUT THIS IS FINE?!” he half-shouted chopping at the air for emphasis even though you could see he was extremely upset.

“I- its just issues at home, it won't affect my work.” You muttered sitting back at your desk embarrassed and close to tears at having been found out. This wasn't something you ever wanted to burden him with, he already has so much to worry about with the agency and villans seeming to strike more and more frequently.

“How could you say that?! Of course, it will affect your work y/n no one would be able to function normally worrying about being beaten when they get home!” he argued.

“It’s never affected me before so its not going to start now.” You said simply and his expression changed.

“Before?” He muttered. “Yeah, Tenya, this isn't the first time that something like this has happened and I am willing to bet it won't be the last.” You scoffed doing your best to make light of the dark subject matter.

“Why?” He asked his voice low. “Well because I’m stubborn, you know that. Once I start to run my mouth I don't stop so it gets me into trouble sometimes. I have a hard time staying quiet about his other girlfriends.” You sighed rolling your eyes and shrugging your shoulders.

“NO, I MEANT WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM DO THIS TO YOU Y/N?! You deserve to be treated so much better than this!” He said exasperatedly making your attempt to be tuff and nonchalant about the situation go completely out the window.

“I could take care of you! I have a spare room you could stay at my place until we figure something out just please don't go back to that place Y/n.” He begged not missing the slightly weary look in your eye as you took in his offer.

“It doesn't have to lead to anything! That's not what this is I’m just worried about you! I want you to be safe and this whole time I’ve been so damn oblivious to what you’ve gone through. I know that the safest place for you is with me!.”

“Please let me take care of you!”

Todoroki Shoto 

(this one uses explicitly female pronouns/has the pregnancy content and is a little shorter than the others)

There wasn't enough makeup in the world to cover up the black eye you sported today, and you looked like you didn't even try to hide the split lip.

This wasn't the first time that Shoto had noticed these things. It wasn't the first time he’d asked about them.

It was, however, the first time you told the truth.

He didn't knows what he should have expected. It wasn't like he hadn't grown up with an abusive father, that fact only made the realization worse.

He’d done nothing to protect you.

You were the person he was closest to in this whole world. The only person he’s ever trusted completely. The only woman that he’s ever loved in the way that he loves you.

“Shoto?” You whimpered the sudden drop in temperature of the room worrying you as he glared at you from across his desk.

He’d called you in here to see if you would be willing to relocate with him. He wanted to establish a larger agency in a bigger town. Now he wasn't exactly planning on giving you that choice.

“I will send someone for your things then.” He said in a tone that he’d never used with you before. You’ve heard it numerous times while in meetings that weren't going his way but never ever directed at you. “My things? No- i-I cant!” You said your voice shaking as the tears started again.

“What do you mean you cant? You honestly expect me to let you go back?” He hissed. “He wont-.” You started before he cut you off.

“What he won't do it again? How many times has he told you that at this point considering I’m willing to bet this isn't the first time its happened.”

“No, he won't let me leave.” You muttered sounding almost ashamed.

“What gives him the right to keep you from doing what you want? He doesn't own you.” He said harshly, he didn't miss the dispare in your eyes though.

“If you would have offered about 3 months ago I would have taken you up in a second flat.” You muttered quietly.

“What's changed? It doesn't matter whether or not your married, my lawyers can take care of that without you having to lift a finger.” He said waving away your objection.

“Its …. Not just about me anymore,” you said barely above a whisper as he watched your hand go to your stomach as his felt like it had jumped into his throat.

“Y/n?” He asked his voice softer as he got up and walked around his desk to kneel in front of you as your shoulders started to shake.

“I wish you would have asked sooner.” You whimpered letting yourself break down. “I wish that I wasn't so stupid, now I- we. have to deal with him for the rest of our lives.” You choked threw sobs.

“I can make it easier for you- the both of you.” He offered his hands pressing to your stomach that had been hidden from him with loose flowy shirts and the cozy sweaters that he knew you loved. But he could definitely feel the swell that was under the fabric.

You were right, it wasn't just about you anymore.

It was about you and your child.

He wasn't about to let something that was a part of you come into a life even remotely similar to the one he was born into. He refused to let you feel like a prisoner with no way out.

“Shoto, it's his baby I can't-” “You can't what? Look I’m not asking to marry me, I’m not asking you to give me your baby. I’m telling you to let me give it a better life. You can't honestly think that it will be happy or healthy when it has to worry whether or not its father is going to beat its mother on any given day? Or what about when it cries or touches his things?” He urged his hands moving from your stomach to your sides.

“What if one day they grow up to see how fucking wrong that piece of shit is and tries to stand up for you? Or themselves? Is he really going to hold back on them?” He asked nothing but sincere concern in his expression and voice.

You weren't stupid.

You knew what would happen if or when that day came. You didn't even want to think about it.

“I’m starting a new firm, in a different city, come with me.” He said. “Let me protect you. Both”

#todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo #shouto #iida #iida tenya #iida bnha #x reader #tw abuse #tw pregnancy #bnha

[serenitysilverfantasyworld]

The PenPal

Sorry it’s been so long since the last chapter. Here is the next chapter of The PenPal!

New beginnings

A few days later

*back to Ikuto

               “Iku! Letter!” Shigure said excitedly running from the mailbox outside and into the bed and breakfast.

               “Thanks buddy.” Ikuto said scratching his mess of blonde hair before he bounded off to play with Akane. After Ikuto finished what he was doing he took a small break and rested on a lawn chair outside. “I hope she’s feeling better today.” He muttered to himself as he opened the envelope.

Dear Ikuto,

       I took a tumble down the side of a mountain is all, the doctors just want to make sure that I am perfectly healthy before they let me go. My eyes were severely damaged… so time will tell if I get my sight back. If my sight doesn’t return my dream will remain a dream…

               Ikuto wiped the tears that were streaming down his face as he heard Tsuki’s voice in the distance.

              “Ikuto-kun, you okay?” Tsuki asked her head poking out of a nearby window in the bed and breakfast.

              “I’m fine Tsuki.” He smiled wiping his tears quickly. “What do you need?” He asked.

              “You just look like you need a hug, so,” She grunted climbing over the windowsill and jumping onto the grass before bounding over to where he sat, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “Feel better?” She asked her bright blue eyes gazing up at him.

              “Much better.” He smiled touching her nose playfully. “Now run off and play cutie.” He chuckled as she bounded off into the distance. Once she was gone he read the rest of the letter.

         It sounds like your parents have their hands full, and I’m sure your siblings like having you around. When I was Shigure’s age I ran around the yard looking for all the bugs and critters I could find to show my dad. He was never happy to see me on those days, but I guess all I wanted him to notice me. That’s another story all together, I don’t want to bore you with that story.  

       That’s a smart idea, you taking online classes especially if you work a lot. I have been so busy with high school and my college courses that I haven’t gotten myself a part time job.

          You write music, that’s really cool I’m kind of jealous I can sing well enough, but can’t write a single cord without it sounding like a dying whale. What genre of music do you write, I’d love to hear it sometime. I don’t doubt that you will be an amazing musician. When you make it big I’ll be sure to buy your first album alright? I’m finally feeling better; the flu has finally bit the dust and I’m on the road to full recover and hopefully out of this sanitary prison they call a hospital. I look forward to hearing from you again soon.

~Kyoko

          “Ikuto!” His dad shouted from the back door. “Can you cover the front desk while your mom and I go shopping?”

           “Sure thing dad.” Ikuto said as he slid the letter into his back pocket. “I’ll reply when I have some spare time.”

            A few weeks go by and Kyoko’s letter was still on his desk, waiting a reply. His parents surprised him that night when they came home from their shopping trip. Telling him that they were going to go on a vacation to Kyoto for their twenty-fifth anniversary, so that left Ikuto to take care of his siblings and run the bed and breakfast by himself. Luckily they did have several part time employees that helped take care of the patron’s needs and meals, but they were all still pretty new to the job so Ikuto was there most of the day supervising when he wasn’t otherwise chasing his siblings. With his finals coming up in online school courses he spent most every night after closing up the bed and breakfast studying and waking up to Akame’s nightmares.

            Every morning started with a large cup of coffee just to wake himself up before the chaos of the day. The moment his parents returned from their trip he went to his room for a much-needed nap. After waking up the next morning he finally replied to Kyoko’s letter she sent three weeks ago. “I’m so sorry Kyoko, please forgive me.”

Three days later

*back to Kyoko

               After her confrontation with her father Misaki demanded over and over for Kyoko to be released from the hospital to avoid further injury from him. The staff declined, because they didn’t want to get fired for disobeying Dr. Ootori’s direct orders to keep his daughter here until she is ‘fully recovered’ after a thorough examination by himself. Which everyone knew that he had some really high standards, so Misaki resigned herself to getting the permission to stay the night every night until Kyoko was recovered enough for a release.

               For the past few weeks every day that Misaki came back from the store with no letter Kyoko’s spirits dropped. Every day was a rollercoaster of emotions when she heard Misaki come in her hopes would rise and then quickly plummet, until at long last Misaki rushed in excitedly. “Ikuto finally replied Kyoko!”

               “Great.” Kyoko said gloomily with a hint of sarcasm.

               “Don’t you want to hear what he wrote?” She asked as she set the groceries she bought into the mini-fridge they had in the hospital room.

               “Whatever.” She said.

               “Just give him a chance, I’m sure he has a good reason for not writing you for so long.” Misaki said sitting in the chair on the balcony next to Kyoko.

               “Doesn’t matter.” Kyoko shrugged as Misaki ripped open the envelope.

Dear Kyoko,

         I’m so sorry it took me so long to respond to your letter, my parents went on a surprise vacation for three weeks, so I had to hold down the fort at home and the bed and breakfast while they were away. It was quite tiring.

         I’m so sorry to hear about your accident, I hope you can recover fully soon. Especially your eyes, those are needed to do most everything.

         I’m flattered to hear that you want to hear my music, but I have to say I’m not that good. My mom may call me her little superstar, but I still have a long way to go before I’m star material. I can play any genre on the piano and guitar. With my original songs I tend to lean towards calm and soothing melodies, my teacher calls it smooth pop. Sometimes I use my guitar and sing some big country hits just to mix things up at the bed and breakfast. If you want to hear my music maybe we could video chat sometime, but wait do they allow laptops in the hospital? Or when you are released you can always come over to the bed and breakfast, but we can figure that out later I guess.

         I’m sorry again that it took so long to write back to you, I was just so busy lately, please forgive me.

~Ikuto

               After Misaki read the letter Kyoko sat their silently, sighing heavily.

               “You know we could go…” Misaki started.

               “No.” Kyoko argued. “I can’t….” She said pointing at her face, the scars across her eyes that she’s felt so many times she knew there is no way that the whole world wouldn’t notice them the second she stepped outside.

               “You look beautiful as always, and your dad will understand or at least accept your condition one day… we hope.” Misaki said as she walked to the microwave, placing some instant noodles inside. “On another note, I got a call from the service dog agency like you asked me to do, they have a dog that is ready for you to start going through the training with.”

               “Great.” Kyoko said, knowing at least in her situation having a new set of eyes to help her avoid obstacles would be helpful. “When?”

               “I told them to bring the dog here tomorrow as soon as they can.” Misaki said as she grabbed her noodles from the microwave. “This should hopefully help you get some of your independence back.”

               “Yea...” Kyoko sighed heavily. “Dad’s not going to like this.”

               “We can only hope he’ll come to his senses.” Misaki replied. “Hopefully before school starts.”

               “Yea.” Kyoko sighed, desperate to change the topic from her overbearing father.

               “Let’s eat, then we’ll write the letter.” Misaki said as she handed Kyoko her cup of noodles.

               “Ok.” Kyoko replied as Misaki placed a cup of noodles into her hands, handing her a fork since chopsticks are difficult for her.

                After the garbage was thrown away, Misaki pulled out her notepad and pen. “Ready when you are.”    

                Once the letter was written Misaki was so happy to hear from Kyoko’s tone of voice that she was starting to feel just a little bit cheerful. Since finding out what the accident did to her eyesight she barely spoke a word for that whole three weeks. She was still not her normal perky self but she’s at least been less snippy than she was when she first got the news from the doctors. Misaki was filled with hope for the future that Kyoko could have with her new friend that she couldn’t keep tears from flowing.

               “What’s wrong?” Kyoko asked, hearing Misaki sniffle a couple of times.

               “I’m just happy Kyoko.” Misaki said as she slid the notebook and letter into her bag. “Your mom would be so happy for you.” Misaki said.

                 “I hope...” Kyoko smiled gazing softly towards Misaki.

A week later

*back to Ikuto

               He had finally finished off his online classes for the summer semester and was ready to enjoy the rest of the summer writing songs and working when he was needed at the bed and breakfast. He went back to the song he wrote a few weeks ago that was inspired by Kyoko, trying to put lyrics to the tune. He racked his brain for several days whenever he had free time, but no lyrics came to him. As he scrubbed the dishes from dinner one day the mail carrier walked in and set the mail on the bar, seeing Ikuto at the sink behind it.

               “Thank you very much.” Ikuto said drying his hands off as the mail carrier walked back outside. He flipped through the pile of letters until he found one from Kyoko. He smiled as he slid the letter into his pocket, going back to his chores. “I’m hope she isn’t mad at my late response.” He sighed in relief.

               That night after closing up the bed and breakfast he went to his room to read Kyoko’s letter.

Dear Ikuto,

       I was so happy to get your letter, I was worried that you forgot about me…. My friends haven’t visited me this whole two months I’ve been here. On top of that my boyfriend dumped me before I was even out of surgery shortly after my accident, and now he’s married to my best friend. He’s the heir to a large company so the marriage was all over the news so if you have a television you probably saw it…. They both graduated at the end of this school year in May and now… I thought what we had was something special, he told me he would wait until I graduated to propose so my studies wouldn’t be hindered. I guess he only really loved me for my family’s money after all.

My family’s business is Ootori Medical Inc. My father is the CEO of the whole company, which is I guess one reason I’m stuck in this hospital, even though all my injuries have healed.

I’m sorry, didn’t mean to rant about something so trivial, but it’s nice to get it off my chest… I…haven’t really spoken much to anyone lately… The only one that I’ve really spoken to has been Misaki, she’s been like a mother to me since I was born. She’s been my scribe for my letters until my eyes heal.

       Misaki has told me time and again that singing was one of my mom’s favorite things to do. There was a rumor of my mom getting a record deal but was forced to give it up when she married my dad. When I would walk to school I would often sing to my favorite songs, I guess in a way it made me feel closer to the mother I never knew….

I’m sorry, this ended up being a letter of venting, I’ll try to avoid that next time it’s just been a rough three weeks…

Were you able to get any sleep while holding the fort down? If not you should take all the time you need to sleep, I’m sure you’ve earned it. You mother should be giving birth soon shouldn’t she?

I would love to visit the bed and breakfast sometime, I’m sick of this prison of a hospital my dad has forced me to stay in.  

~Kyoko

           After reading Kyoko’s letter he sat there, unsure what to think or how to respond. He looked over at the clock by his bed and saw it was already midnight. When did it get so late? He thought to himself as he quickly undressed and went to bed, leaving the letter on his nightstand.

               A few days go by and Ikuto finally had a few minutes to sit down to respond to Kyoko’s letter.  

               “You writing to Kyoko?” His mother asked as Ikuto sealed the envelope, she sat down slowly on the couch next to Ikuto.

               “Yea,” Ikuto smiled as he set the envelope on the table. “Do you think it’s too early to ask her to meet in person?” He asked looking over at his mother.

               “Well you have only known her a couple of months so it’s hard to say, does she want to meet you?” she asked.

               “I’m not sure, she mentioned that it would be nice to get out of the hospital so maybe…?”

               “What is she in the hospital for?” She asked.

               “Well, I don’t know the details, but she was in an accident of some sort and her eyes were severely damaged, they aren’t sure if she’ll see once her eyes are recovered. I should ask her if her eyes are better.” He said as he jotted that down on his notepad.

               “Oh the poor thing…” She sighed.

               “Yea… she seems to be dealing with it in her own way, but I can imagine it’s really hard for her, she wants to be a doctor so she needs to be able to see.”

               “Yea she certainly does, I hope all is well. Any sort of serious injury is hard to deal with at first. Especially if you were in perfect health before.”

               “What should I do?” Ikuto asked.

               “Let me read.” She replied as Ikuto handed her the letter. After reading it she set it down, her hand rubbing the end of her chin in thought. “It sounds like she is in need of a friend Ikuto, her life has just been flipped upside down.”

               “Alright, thanks mom.” Ikuto smiled.

               “Maybe you should wait to ask her to visit till she’s able to.”

               “Alright.” He sighed. “I just don’t want to hurt her, it sounds like she’s been through a lot.”

               “You’re so cute when you worry Ikuto.” His mother chuckled.

               Ikuto’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, she was only partially right. He was worried about her, but it felt different than anything he had ever felt before. From his previous rejection he wasn’t ready to admit that this could be the beginnings of love that he was feeling. “I just care for her as a friend.” His blush deepened.

               “Whatever you say Ikuto.” She winked as he left to put the letter in the mailbox.

#thepenpal #romance #serenitysilverfantasyworld #lovestory