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anki-of-beleriand · 5 months

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Bad Liar ch. 10

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: There are some revelations as Reader takes a leap of faith and Wanda is finally confronted with her emotions, Kate is finally getting some progress, and someone just spot the twins in the mall.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 10

Breaking the distance

The snow was falling slowly right outside your window.

There was a small smile playing on your lips, you could hear Maria giving you a full debrief of the latest developments on the different projects you were leading. A part of your mind was on what she was saying, but your other half, the one daydreaming at the moment was replying to the last couple of days inside your head.

From the moment you met her, you knew there was something about Wanda Maximoff that would either drive you mad or make you fall in an instant. It wasn’t only about her looks, for you had always thought she was a beautiful woman, it was more about her own personality, her stubbornness, and her witty nature that made you believe she was out there to drive you off the wall.

Then, you actually got to know her.

She wasn’t as self-centered as you thought she was, and she certainly wasn’t as strong or as bitchy as she pretended to be. What you discovered behind those green eyes was someone vulnerable, someone reaching out to protect her children and to feel loved. Whatever scars she was carrying from her past were deep enough to make her vulnerable and strong and the same time.

You couldn’t help but remember the recent weekends you spent in her company; you never thought you would look forward to meeting with her or her children, to actually spend such special moments with her while fully aware of the growing tension between the both of you. It had been subtle at first, perhaps the tension carried by the fact you had been a bitch to her, and she was still slightly guarded around you. Then, you realized there was something else in there, you knew you were attracted to her that was the reason why you were so careful with your own delusions.

Yet, you couldn’t deny the recent looks she sent your way, or the lingering touches or the deepest of your conversations whenever you two were alone. You couldn’t help but long for these moments to be real, for those accidental touches and that timid smile to mean what your heart craved. That weekend, while America was trying to ease the pain on her back with the twins helping her around brought you closer to Wanda. In your mind, her green eyes lingered, her words, and the softness of her lips on your cheek moments before she left with the promise of coming back the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that one.

Your heart trembled, and your jaw clenched tightly at the overwhelming emotions running rampage inside you.

“You’re not paying attention to me. Again.” Maria huffed leaning back against her chair, the cold reproach in her voice broke you from your thoughts, you turned around smiling apologetically at Maria before settling yourself on your seat.

“Sorry, Maria, not my intention.” You laced your fingers together your eyes drifting to your mobile then back to Maria. “I just got a lot in my mind, what with the festival coming over next week and…”

“And Wanda.” Maria finished shaking her head. “Really, if I didn’t know better, I would say you two had a date tonight.”

“I wish.” You mumbled lowering your face to hide your blushing cheeks.

“You two still in the ‘we’re only friends’ phase?” Maria stated amusedly, she put her tablet on the table taking a closer look at you.

Maria Hill had been your father’s personal assistance, when he died, she took it upon herself to teach you the general workings of the company before presenting her resignation letter. She didn’t assume you would stay with her by your side, but it was obvious to you the woman was a valuable asset and a great friend you couldn’t let go. So Maria stayed and since then, she had always been the voice of reason around the company.

The older woman had seen you as of late, the moment Wanda Maximoff came into your life she had seen the changes from that fake annoyance in your voice whenever you mentioned her to the subtle affection in your tone as of late, Maria knew there was something there. You had changed so much; you were heard humming happily whenever you thought no one was looking. From time to time, a content smile would decorate your features, while your fingers tapped happily on any surface.

Whatever was happening with Wanda Maximoff certainly had a positive effect on you, and the other woman. Maria had heard Natasha talked about the other woman as well, how she was more relaxed as of late, how her smile was easy on her lips and she was always just waiting patiently to go into her phone and continue a conversation she had left unfinished with you. Natasha had seen Wanda grow while, at the same time, giving herself the chance to be herself without anyone dictating her life.

Now, if they both stopped being so stupid, everyone would be happier for them.

“We are friends, you know?” You rolled your eyes when Maria merely snorted.

“Right, but you want to be something more, don’t you?” Maria inquired, leaning forward.

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging in defeat, “I do but I think…I just don’t know how to approach this, Maria, she is just…confusing at times, you know?”

“No, not really, what do you mean?”

You contemplated the hard surface of your desk, your mind going through all the moments you had shared with Wanda so far. The mixed signals, as well as those conversations that had left you wondering if perhaps the woman was really looking for something else or she was just being nice. You really had been diving into an ocean of confusion that was finally catching up to your resistance and it was starting to drive your crazy.

“I just think…well, she has children, right? And a husband, right? I mean, she is not even divorced yet and well, nobody assures me she will get one any time soon. And perhaps I’m reading too much into her being nice.” You intertwined your hands rolling your eyes. “I feel like an idiot.”

Maria offered a comforting smile, she had never found herself so inclined to broke a promise she made to Natasha as she felt at that moment.

“You are overthinking, Y/N. You are not an idiot, but I do think you should have a serious conversation with Wanda.” Maria trailed off for a moment before continuing. “You have been dancing around this topic for far too long, why don’t take a chance? Why don’t just be honest?”

“What if I am wrong?” You asked softly, Maria smiled at you and the question that left her mouth next made you tremble with anticipation.

“What if you are not and you are actually loved?” Maria hesitated for a moment; she locked her eyes with you before continuing. “Don’t let this chance slip away from you, Y/N. Life is too short, and taking a leap of faith may lead to that happy ending you and her deserve.”

“Why do I have the feeling that you know something I don’t, Maria?” You retorted narrowing your eyes at Maria, the other woman shifted on the chair looking away from you.

“Talk to Wanda, Y/N. This is not my story to tell.”

“Everyone seems to know that story but me, why?”

Maria grimace shrugging, “not really my place, boss, now if you don’t mind me getting away from this conversation we could continue talking about your projects, and what we have been doing with Jarvis.”

You opened your mouth ready to protest but decided against it, Maria would not tell you what you wanted but mostly what you needed. And Maria was right about something, you needed to talk to Wanda and get the full story from her before making any rash decision. With a heavy heart, and a whirlpool of thoughts, you gave your full attention to the report and the situation with Jarvis.

________________________

When Wanda glanced at her reflection in the bathroom mirror she found herself looking into the eyes of a completely different woman.

A year ago, Wanda found herself scared to death while the cries of her children were muffled by the basement door. Vision had been furious after a party in which Billy, Tommy and Wanda had failed to make a good impression and had costed Vision a business deal with an important businessman. The twins had been locked the hole weekend, and Wanda…

Wanda shivered at the memory of the abuse she suffered that day.

But now, almost a year later, she was different.

She was no longer Wanda Jarvis, nor was she Wanda Frank.

She was Wanda Maximoff.

The only way she got to be closer to her mother, her brother, and her family.

Now that Wanda was looking at her reflection, she could see the longer hair and the green eyes gleaming with life. The traces of fear were no longer marking her features, and while letting go of her past was hard, she no longer feared her home, or loud noises, or the fact she was not on time with her house chores. And her children were free, they had grown so much in the last couple of months, the fear left them completely and instead of running from their neighbour, they were just excited to see them, to share time with them and have Wanda just as happy as them.

No, the woman looking at her back was a woman that was discovering new things about herself.

Wanda offered a tentative smile, her hand lifting up to the spot you had kissed that morning before saying goodbye. It was a foolishly gesture, something you had taken upon yourself to do whenever the both of you parted ways. The kiss was simple enough, but it lingered in Wanda's cheek with a burning fire Wanda was still uncertain to admit.

She dropped her eyes, her phone unlocked and open in the conversation she was having with you. Since America had gotten into her little accident whatever time Wanda spent at home she either spent it at your place or hers. It had become a habit, preparing dinner and sharing some good conversation as well as watching some silly TV show in the company of the twins and America.

And every morning, whenever you two crossed paths before going to your respective jobs, you would just approach Wanda wished her a good day and kiss her cheek. Wanda placed a hand on her face, her cheeks burning up and her lips curling slightly. She felt like a teen all over again, experimenting the tingling emotion of new discoveries, new relationships, new attractions.

Attraction.

Yes, because Wanda could no longer kid herself with what she was feeling, you had become an important part of her new life, and with you she had discovered something she thought buried a long time ago. She was attracted to you, she liked your smile and your silliness as much as she found exasperating your smugness and know it all nature. Wanda found herself thinking about you, waiting to see you, wanting to talk to you and that scared her in ways no many could comprehend. It wasn't only the fact that Wanda didn't think you would find her remotely interesting to consider anything at all with her, it wasn't only the fact that you were dating someone already. It was also the fear Wanda kept in her of getting lost in another relationship, of losing herself once more and not being able to be her.

“You are thinking too hard, Wanda.”

Wanda jerked away from her reflection turning to see Natasha standing by the door of the bathroom. The older woman smiled at her, a single eyebrow lifted while her long legs carried her to the sink.

“Are you alright?” Natasha inquired in the same sisterly tone she had taken to use with Wanda.

“Yes, I am just… Nervous.” Wanda revealed, Natasha took that chance to teased her.

“Nervous about our meeting with Y/N, or about the divorce papers?” Natasha gauged her reaction; Wanda opened her eyes wide hiding away her blush by bussing herself with her phone.

“The… The divorce, of course.”

“Of course.” Natasha rolled her eyes but said nothing, she then put on a serious mask making sure Wanda understood the seriousness of what she was going to say.

“I know that this is a huge step, but you just have to sign them with the full custody of the twins papers and I will take care of everything else.” Natasha could see the tension building in Wanda, but this time around it came with a silent anger and determination she didn't feel months ago.

Natasha was happy to see the progress, and if everything went fine the man would spend the rest of his life in jail.

“I know, I already signed them, I just…” Wanda hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I really don't want to see him anymore, and this is going to be a long process that may come in the way…”

“You don't have to worry about that, Wanda. We have you covered and he would never know where you are hiding.”

Natasha could see there was something else bothering Wanda she waited putting a hand on Wanda’s forearm. Wanda lifted her eyes giving in and saying what was really tormenting her.

“I haven't told Y/N the complete story, you know? What if… What if she finds out?” She sounded vulnerable, as if the mere idea of you knowing such a detail of her life really scared her.

“Why haven't you told her?” Natasha asked but Wanda merely shrugged.

“I just didn't want her to think less of me, I guess.” Wanda heard herself shaking her head and breaking into a bitter smile. “I just didn't want her to know how weak I am.”

“You know Y/N thinks the world of you, right?” Natasha balanced the knowledge she had of you and Wanda, of the growing relationship between the both of you before deciding she could push Wanda in the right direction.

“She does?” Wanda looked surprised at this, Natasha nodded and continued.

“You are a strong woman, Wanda. And Y/N can only see in you a strong woman, and someone she has come to really like.”

There was a flicker of doubt shinning behind those green eyes, Wanda couldn't deny these words were somewhat comforting to her. But her doubt was rooted in the knowledge that you might had entertained the idea of liking her. Perhaps as something more than a friend.

“Don't think too much, Wanda,” this time around Natasha allowed the small contact with the young woman, her hand comforting on Wanda's shoulder, “let it flow, and let it be for the time being. You are doing fantastic so there is no rush.”

Wanda offered a tiny smile, she sighed following Natasha right outside the bathroom to the huddle room where you were waiting patiently for them to come in.

Your face lit up at the sight of Wanda, and soon the both of you engaged in an animate conversation as if you had not seen one another in quite some time. Natasha observed from afar, she analysed your every gesture and your every word and soon she knew that all Wanda and you needed was time.

Because everything else was already there. Two fools in love.

_____________________

America had been out of commission for more than a week, she had tried to keep up with her physical therapy and her heart had been jumping in joy when Kate had joined in the different routines making sure America got them right.

It had been a moment America had treasured greatly, Loki and Yelena had congratulated themselves for such a magnificent plan until Kamala chimed in to remind them Kate and America were technically still friends.

This of course, didn't stop the pair who had everything planned out in the best way possible. Hence America nagging you with her plans for the day.

“So you're going to the movies?” You asked slightly confused by the comment.

“Yes.” America nodded bouncing on her feet, she glanced at you then at her phone.

“I thought you were gonna babysit the twins while Wanda and I went to the school.” You made a gesture with your hand, trying to make sense of the request.

“Yes, and I thought that we could see a movie with everyone else.” America leaned forward wiggling her eyebrows at you. “It will give you more time with Wanda, you know? And Billy and Tommy would be in good hands.”

You frowned looking away from your sister.

“Have you told Wanda about this?”

America winced rolling her head, “Well, no. I haven't but… I have a card under my sleeve.”

You arched a brow at her, your chest filling with dread when you caught sight of her mischievous smile.

“What did you do, America?”

“My dear sister, I know what you are experimenting and what you are going through.” America stated moving closer to you, her hands on your shoulders. “I have only cared for you to be happy, Y/N, and I can see Wanda makes you happy.”

Your body tensed completely, you tried to look away from America but whenever she stood her ground speaking at you with such a serious stare you knew there was nothing much you could do. America dropped her shoulders, her eyes hiding away the conflict inside her mind.

“I don't want you to get hurt, you know?”

“I know.”

“If Wanda is someone you want then, the least I can do is to make sure you can be with her.” America offered a half smile, her hands squeezing your shoulders comfortingly. “But you need to do something already, this indecision would only create more confusion to you, to her and to the twins.”

“The twins?” You repeated blinking slowly.

“Of course! They had noticed, you know?” America rolled her eyes at you. “They had noticed the changes in Professor Maximoff and in you, the amount of time we spent with one another, they may not understand but they know something is going on.”

You never stopped to consider that Wanda's children would be aware of what was happening. You didn't even consider the possibility, not because you thought they were fools, but because they were children. America opened her mouth to say something else but she stopped before anything came out of her mouth, while it was true that you shouldn't jump into any kind of relationship with a woman you didn't know too well, it was not her place to share her discoveries, Kate had explained to her that much. America stepped back, she knew what she had to do and that opportunity would present to her sooner rather than later, as soon as you and Wanda stopped dancing around one another.

“So, you think…I mean, not that you are right but… You think there is a chance that anything may happen?” You asked casually, America snorted hugging you tightly.

“You are an idiot.”

“Thank you, Lil sis, that's what I need to hear.”

America chuckled before going back to her initial request.

“So, about the car…”

“Ugh, let's see first if Wanda agrees with this crazy plan then the car is all yours.”

“Yes!” America punched you on the shoulder strolling down the hall calling her friends to share with them your approval.

You snorted shaking your head, your eyes lifted to looked out of the window to the next-door house wondering what kind of conversation Wanda was having with her children. There was a moment of silence, your eyes fixated on the house next door until an idea formed in your mind; that Saturday would be the best chance you got to be with Wanda alone. It would be the chance to…

You sighed grabbing your phone and looking for the familiar name in your contact list. You chewed on your lower lip, if you didn’t take a leap of faith…you would never know, right?

“Hey, Ajak, how is it going?”

******

Just as America had told Y/N, the twins had noticed the changes in their lives.

It wasn’t that hard, the had spent most of their childhood afraid of the clock marking a specific time, or the door opening and closing, they had been afraid of the smell their dad usually brought with him when screaming and hitting at them. They had seen their mother cry, and they had seen and experimented the pain and the suffering the same way as Wanda did.

Then, one day, they just went inside a care and their mom took them down different roads, crying and confused until they reached anew house. It had taken some time, but Billy and Tommy had come to love their new home. They liked America who was always nice with them, she was always playing games with them or reading them stories or actually treating them like big boys. Tommy like Y/N first, while Billy just thought she was a silly woman.

Tommy disagreed with his brother, he had seen first hand how nice Y/N was and how good she was with medicine. Then, Tommy had seen how her mom smiled more often whenever Y/N was closed, and Billy had grumpily agreed with Tommy because Y/N seemed to be a constant figure in their lives.

And their mom liked Y/N.

Of that, the twins had not doubt. And if their mom liked her, then they could like her as well, right?

The confusing part was to define what exactly meant for their mom to like Y/N; Balder had said that they wanted to kiss, but it was not possible because they were girls. Then, they started their own investigation when Balder told them that Nathaniel a boy in their class had two daddies, and then Balder talked about Val a friend of their dad that lived with another girl and they kissed one another.

It was confusing, but if their mom was happy then…well, then she needed to kiss Y/N.

It was either that, or their dad coming back. But they hated this idea, and they would prefer their mommy alone than back with their dad. Of that, their little minds were completely sure.

Now, the only thing they needed to do, according to Balder, was to make sure their mom knew they agreed to her and Y/N to kiss. It was only that, right?

Billy and Tommy glanced at one another; Tommy opened his eyes really big mouthing something to his brother. Billy scowled grabbing his glass of milk before speaking.

“Mommy, do you like Y/N?” Wanda was caught off of guard, the question made her choke on the coffee she had been drinking. Tommy gave his twin the thumbs up, but Billy was still scowling openly at his mom.

Wanda was coughing trying to recover ignoring that Tommy was swinging his legs in the air, his hand grabbing the spoon filled with cereal.

“I like Y/N! She is funny, and nice and she is… Warm.” Tommy scrunched up his nose, not really sure he had chosen the right words.

“I…I…Warm?” Wanda stuttered.

“You are all red when she is here! Like when is hot in the house!” Tommy exclaimed as if that was enough explanation, Wanda winced trying to hide her mortified expression from the twins.

“She makes mommy smile too.” Billy lifted his eyes to Wanda blinking innocently as he waited for an answer to his question.

Wanda tried to take another sip from her coffee, her eyes glancing everywhere but at her children who were now focusing their attention on her.

“Mommy?” Billy asked again, Wanda sighed placing her mug on the counter.

“Yes, Billy, I like Y/N.” Wanda answered casually trying to quiet down the butterflies flying around her abdomen.

“I like her too.” Billy nodded in agreement; Tommy grabbed another spoonful of cereal. “She is pretty.”

Wanda had to silently agreed with Billy, she softened her eyes slightly knowing her children really liked you a lot. It was one of the things that had made Wanda feel attracted to you. How easy you fit in with the twins, how you had earned their love and their friendship by being just plain silly with them. You and America had taught them how to be children again, how to let go of their fears of watching the clock every once in a while or trembling when the door opened and closed, or to let go of Wanda and run freely to have fun.

“Mommy, do you have to go today?” Tommy asked softly, Wanda opened her eyes at the question, she had told them already that day they were needed it back at school to finish the decorations for the ball.

“Yes, Tommy, but mommy won't take too long, and America is going to watch over you…”

“Can Y/N stay here too?” Billy asked and Wanda winced lightly at the request.

“No, Billy, she will come with me to school.”

Billy and Tommy glanced at one another; Wanda narrowed her eyes at the sudden spark of mischief that shone in their eyes.

“Can we watch a movie?”

Wanda leaned forward waiting for the real request.

“Yes, of course.” She answered tentatively.

“Can America take us to the theatre to see a movie?” They both asked at the same time, Wanda opened her eyes leaning back as they grinned widely at her.

Wanda hesitated before shaking her head.

“To the cinema.” She clarified then, “you mean, to the mall?”

Billy and Tommy nodded eagerly, Wanda opened her mouth then closed it again, her mind going through the possibilities of her children going to the mall with America. Then, as she went to drink another sip from her coffee she almost choked again at Tommy's next words.

“We promised we won't get mad if you and Y/N kiss each other, Mommy!”

“Tommy!” Billy exclaimed hitting his brother while Wanda tried to recover.

“What?”

“Balder said you and Y/N want to kiss one another but that you need to be alone because that's what you do when you like someone.” Tommy said in one breath trying to get away from Billy who was trying to shut him up. “and you say you like Y/N!!”

“Tommy!! You ruined it!!” Billy scolded his brother crossing his arms and glaring at his twin.

Tommy crossed his arms as well, red and slightly guilty at what he just said. Wanda placed a hand on her face, she was trying to collect her thoughts and had a serious conversation with her children when the doorbell sounded tearing her attention from the current situation to be door.

“We will have a serious conversation about this, guys, but now stop glaring at one another and behave. I'm going to see who it is.”

Wanda was trying to regulate her heartbeat that actually skyrocketed when she opened the door to see you standing there. You were dressed rather casually, with a light jacket on and a scarf that helped out a little in the cold winter weather. Your grin showing off the dimples on your cheeks, with your eyes gleaming warmly at the woman standing in front of you.

“Y/N!” Tommy was the first one to come running towards you, he wrapped his arms around you grinning while looking around until his eyes found America and he went right in to greet her as well.

“Hope we didn't interrupt anything?” You asked after the silence stretched out for far too long.

“Oh, no, no we were having breakfast.” Wanda stated not overly excited to tell you what she had been talking about with the twins. “Would you like to come on in? I was getting ready, but I thought we will go later today.”

Billy was standing to the side, his eyes narrowed and the small scowl he had been wearing before was back on his face. You hesitated before going over to him, your hand stretched out.

“Good morning, Billy.” The boy glance at your hand, then at you and Tommy before taking your hand.

“Hi.” He then stepped back and went to hug America who winced at the force the twins had greeted her with.

Wanda winced but you merely chuckled, shrugging.

“So I know we said later but… I have a proposal for you.” Your grin was infectious and soon Wanda found herself smiling back.

America held back the twins, whispering with them while glancing at the adults every once in a while.

“What proposal?”

“Well, you can have lunch with me.” You sounded more confident that what you really felt, your heart was threatening to leave your chest and your palms had gotten sweaty all of a sudden. “I mean, we could have lunch and then go to the school. America and her friends were thinking of doing something today and well, that includes taking Tommy and Billy to the movies… If you agree?”

Wanda soon found herself being cornered by her children, one teenager, and you all four looking at her with puppy eyes and pleadingly smiles. She gave in, it was hard not to do so even with the latent fear of having her children going outside with people that was not her, and perhaps risking their well-being by getting spotted by someone of their previous life.

“We're not going to be alone, though.” America decided to intervene, she had the twins on each hand making sure she could show just how responsible she was. “Thor and Sif will come with us, Balder is also and we were actually going with them because they are planning Loki’s birthday party so… We won't be alone.”

“And, it's free lunch, so it's a win-win situation.” You completed it, Wanda knew her battle was lost the moment she found herself looking into your warm eyes smiling back at you with a hint of disbelief in her features.

It was such a foolishly thing to fall for, she decided to ignore the warmth filling up her chest as well as the fluttering wings of butterflies in her lower abdomen. She felt her mind melting at the sight, and her cheeks coloured pink when you winked at her.

“And mommy can kimphf.” Billy and America both grabbed Tommy silencing him before he could finish the sentence.

You furrowed your brows, America was shaking her head while smiling apologetically at you. Tommy and Billy were arguing while Wanda had placed a hand on her face, slightly mortified and embarrassed.

“So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing, just never mind, I think that's a good idea.” Wanda spoke quickly placing a hand on your forearm. “I was finishing something up, and then I guess you guys can go and…”

“And we can go too. Excellent, need any help?”

By the time midday arrived you were on the road with Wanda glancing at her watch and phone every chance she got. The car drive was silent, with not a single word shared between you just as you drove down streets Wanda had barely recognized.

“They're gonna be fine, you know?” You finally said glancing at the woman beside you out of the corner of your eye.

Wanda let out a snort, her eyes closing lightly before she leaned back on the seat.

“I know.” She hesitated playing with the idea of telling you her real concern before dismissing the idea with a sigh. “I just… I have never let them go out without me, you know?”

You pursed your lips before speaking, “if you want we can join them, I can take the exit down there and we will be there in twenty minutes.”

Wanda turned sharply at you, her eyes opened and her brows lifted.

“Really? You… You would do that?”

“It is obvious you are not comfortable, Wands, and that you want to be there with them.” You explained softening lightly, your hand sneaking around to grab hers in yours. “If it is important to you, then it is important to me.”

Wanda swallowed down her emotions, her hand squeezing yours. She played with the idea of accepting your proposal, she had this bad feeling with her children but she was also conscious this was due to her paranoid mind. She glanced at her hand and yours, before shaking her head.

“I just think I need time, that’s all. We don't have to go over there.” Wanda felt her hand twitched before she let it rest against yours. “We haven't been this far from one another in a while, and well…”

Wanda trailed off she was not ready to share with you her tumultuous past. Or the story of her abusive husband. She was happy with the knowledge you had only seen the new Wanda, her new family and no what she was.

“I can't even imagine what would be when they are dating.”

You chuckled, a content smile playing on your lips while you drove with a single hand.

“I don't think it would be that terrible, you know?” Your eyes wandered around the mirror to take a look at Wanda. “Are you afraid they would bring a girl or a boy home?”

Wanda found herself shocked by the question, she looked out of the car thinking over before speaking her thumb caressing the palm of your hand absentmindedly.

“I'm afraid they will bring a bad person home. I just want them to be happy with the right one.”

You could tell there was more to that story, but your attention was soon grabbed by your mobile announcing the proximity of the restaurant you had been looking for. Wanda leaned forward finding Olympia in all her glory standing proudly in the midst of powerful decorations of ancient times.

“Today we're going to try a different setting, if you don't mind?”

Wanda tilted her head curious, she then smiled at you.

“Not at all, free food, right?”

You chuckled parking the car while tilting your head to the side, “free food.”

The place was still packed, and this time around Wanda didn’t feel the pressure of being around so many people as she felt it before. There were families and group of friends all around the restaurant, the noise increased as they stepped further inside the building. You had said no word to Wanda yet, but to ensure she was never too far behind you grabbed her hand in yours leading her through the tables and the people until you found yourself at the back of the building.

Ajak was waiting for you there.

The older woman had the same smile she wore last time, in her eyes Wanda could recognize the traces of intelligence mixed up with the knowledge of unknown secrets. She was standing by a glass door, inside Wanda could see a world filled with colours, and she couldn’t help but stepped forward her curiosity sparked by the beautiful sight in front of her.

Your eyes followed Wanda around, there was no doubt in your mind that seeing the smile on her face and the innocent excitement in her expression was enough for you to be happy as well. Ajak snorted knowingly stepping aside while showing the doorknob decorated with golden holding the glass door closed.

“I hope traffic was not too bad, Y/N.” Ajak spoke her eyes going from Wanda to you.

“Not at all, Ajak, how is business so far?”

“You know, this is the best season for me.” Ajak shrugged this time around turning to Wanda. “And, Wanda, I hope your children are doing okay?”

Wanda was slightly taken aback; she offered a tentative smile nodding.

“They are, thank you.”

Ajak offered a tilt of her head before placing her hand on the doorknob, there was a strange tension in the air and Wanda had just noticed this section of the restaurant was not that busy. She looked around the place before her eyes settled in you, you shifted with some hesitation before stepping forward.

“Well, as always, I’m glad to make my customers happy, so I hope you liked what we did here.” Ajak opened the door stepping aside, her eyes following you and Wanda inside the glassed domo.

The theme chosen to decorate this place had been nature.

Wanda gasped the cold of the day forgotten as a warmth breeze caressed her skin, the sweet aroma of flowers and nature filled her nostrils while her eyes were enchanted by the sight of colourful flowers and multiple plants that create a path stretching out deeper inside the dome. Wanda had forgotten all about you, she just stepped inside touching the leaves of the closets tree finding this was actually a real tree and not some artificial creation. She walked down the road, her eyes gleaming excitedly taking notice of the sunflowers and the roses, she even got sight of orchids and some palms.

“You really know how to woo a girl, don’t you?” Ajak whispered beside you, you almost jerked away forgetting all about the older woman.

When you turned to face her, Ajak was already smiling knowingly at you. There was no use in denying what was happening or what you were trying to accomplish, you shrugged lightly lowering your face before speaking.

“Do you think…she likes it?” You finally asked, Ajak placed a hand on your forearm shaking her head.

“I think she loves it, and I think you are in deep trouble.” Ajak didn’t let you defend yourself, she merely nodded towards the greenhouse placing a gadget on your hand. “Everything is ready over there, Thena was already warned so you just had to press the button and they will bring everything, okay?”

“Thank you, Ajak, I really owed you one.”

Wanda was already walking down the artificial road by the time you caught up with her.

The young woman turned to you, and the sheer happiness she was wearing at the moment was something you realized you were not familiar with. Something inside you stirred with affection, your own expressions softening while it was quite evident you could not look away from her.

“This is amazing, Y/N, how did you find out about this place?” Wanda asked never losing her smile.

“Well, Olympia is really famous for being a themed restaurant and having the best food in the country.” You replied standing closer to Wanda. “And this place, is a new environment she was trying to get tested, so…I thought, why not?”

Wanda offered a tentative smile, looking away while trying to understand why she was feeling disappointed. You opened your mouth to say something else, but decided against it, your hand twitched at your side until you made up your mind and soon you were grabbing Wanda’s hand in yours.

“I hope you like it, I just thought of you when they offered me to try out this place.” You waited until those green eyes turned to you, this time around Wanda broke all pretences and there was a glint of vulnerability in her stare.

“Really? Why did you think about me?” Wanda could tell her question made you nervous, you avoid her eyes while stepping back bringing her over with you walking slowly down the road.

“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, Wanda.” The sheer honesty behind your words made the other woman hesitated, you didn’t dare to look at Wanda and instead of that you turned around your voice being carried by the echo in the greenhouse.

“I couldn’t help but think you may really like this place, and perhaps that I could make you smile.” Then you tilted your head back, and the smile that showed on your face was one filled with doubts and longing. “I hope I am not overstepping or that you I mean, I just I’m not sure if…”

“This is perfect, thank you for the gesture.” Wanda didn’t let go of your hand, but her body language turned confusing for you it was as if Wanda was fighting with herself, she had stepped closer to you yet her eyes turned into stormy whirlpools of green.

There was an obvious tension around you two, and you knew if you were to lean in you would be able to discover the taste of her lips. Wanda was standing there, her eyes travelling around your face falling always on your lips before she returned to your eyes; she wished she was stronger, that she probably was more daring to end with her confusion and her curiosity but…what if you didn’t want to? What if you rejected her? What if Wanda was reading the situation incorrectly?

She could lose everything, and what she had found with you was something she didn’t want to let go off anytime soon.

“Can you show me around?” Wanda finally whispered; your stomach dropped in disappointment but you didn’t give up. Instead, you just put on a smile leading Wanda around while telling her the story of Olympia.

The greenhouse had been built right outside the main building, it was erected with tempered glass that gave the place the right environment to keep most the plants and flowers alive. The road had been made with wooden planks that twisted and turned around the place giving the visitors a nice view of the flora growing inside the dome. The main dining area was actually at the very centred, in which a pond rested filled with water flowers and a huge Oak tree. The dining sets were all made of bamboo, simple yet fashionable and comfortable; Wanda was beyond herself surrounded by such beauty.

It wasn't only the sight of the trees, or the flowers, not even the warm climate or the pond that was giving up the impression of a multicoloured source of water.

“This is amazing.” Wanda said breathily, she walked towards the only table that had been set up, her heart fluttering in her chest. What was the meaning of all of this?

By the time Wanda turned to you, it was easy to read the questions and the confusion inside her eyes. You wished there was an easy explanation for what you had done, for what you had planned in less than an hour that very morning. But the truth was, you couldn't. Whatever explanations you might have gone out of the window when she faced you with such a gleeful expression.

“I'm glad you like it, we are the very first ones to try this place out so…” You walked past her putting the chair out, your hand showing off the empty chair. “Madam, if you might…”

Wanda dipped her head hiding away the flush on her cheeks, with a hesitant step she went to the offer chair sitting down.

“How did you do it?” Wanda asked, waving her hand at you as you sat in front of her. “How did you get a table in this place?”

“Oh, Ajak was a friend of my parents, my father even provided some investment to her business.” You shrugged. “She has always been kind to us, and she always has a table for my family.”

“But this is a new environment.” Wanda could see your shifting on the chair, your eyes looking everywhere but at her.

“Yeah, Ajak was needing some testers, and I thought we could be those testers.” You tried to sound casual, fixing the napkin on the table before lifting your eyes offering a half smile. “She is supposed to open this formally by the end of the year.”

Wanda placed her elbows on the table, her eyes dancing around the place before she set them on you firmly.

“Well, this is nice, thank you again.”

“I think your smile is thank you enough, Wands, you really should try smiling more often.” You replied before you could stop yourself, Wanda’s smile grew just a little with her cheeks colouring pink.

“I…” Wanda bit her lower lip ready to ask something when the sound of footsteps called her attention.

Your eyes lit up, and as soon as the owner of those footsteps show up you stood up and met the older woman halfway. Wanda shifted uncomfortably on the chair, her stomach twisted unpleasantly while her hand grabbed the closest napkin tightly; Wanda rolled her eyes turning around to fixed her attention in something else when the older woman leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek.

“You look just as beautiful as I remember, Y/N.” Thena leaned in, her clear eyes falling on Wanda that had her back to you two. The older woman raised a single elegant eyebrow, her attention coming back to you.

“And you, my dear Thena, are as flirty and as mischievous as I remember.” You shared a smile; the older woman placed a hand on your shoulder before stepping forward to go over to Wanda.

“And you must be, Mrs. Maximoff, am I right?” Then stretched out her hand to Wanda who looked like a deer caught in the headlights, she put her chair back her hand trembling as she grabbed Thena blinking away her confusion.

“I…yeah, yeah, you are…”

“The chef.” Thena lifted a single hand and soon two waitresses came right in. “As a courtesy, I would like to offer you a simple appetiser with drinks, you will have a chance to look at the menu and as soon as you decided you can go ahead and call for us.”

“Thank you, Thena.” You sat down looking excitedly at the table, wiggling your fingers as everyone set up the table.

“Don’t even mention it, I am always more than happy to attend to you and any of your women when you come here. Please, enjoy.”

You opened your eyes wide at those words, you opened your mouth to protest but Thena left as fast as she had come. Wanda frowned lightly, waiting for the rest of the people to leave before she set her eyes on the menu in front of her.

“So, you bring many women here? Is that it?” She asked coldly, you gulped shaking your head.

“No! I don’t…” You sighed rolling your eyes before closing them. “I haven’t brought anyone here since Shuri.”

Wanda made a face, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity that didn’t went amiss by you. You fixed on your chair, selecting your favourite dish from the menu before speaking again.

“We were together since high school, you know? I thought we would be forever, it was strange mainly because of our backgrounds.” You leaned forward making explanations that Wanda was not asking for but you had the need to share.

“When did…” Wanda trailed off, hesitating for a moment until your hand found hers on the table.

“What is it?”

“You may think I’m a fool.” She mumbled looking away from you, you chuckled brushing your thumb on the back of her hand.

“Come on! Nothing you said may make me think that, what is it?”

Wanda glanced at your joined hands, her heart skipping a beat feeling the overwhelming emotions drowning her senses. Whatever was happening at the moment, whatever had pushed you to invite her over for lunch that day and to spend the day alone with her, Wanda was still afraid of crossing over that thin line that had been drawn between the both of you in the last couple of weeks. But being here with you, enjoying the soft music playing in the air, and the beautiful place you had brought her to, Wanda could feel her resolution crumbling the moment you offered that tiny smile and those gleaming eyes.

“When did you realize you like women?” Wanda asked in a thin voice, almost shyly waiting for you to laugh or make fun of her question.

The question caught you by surprised, it didn’t make you laugh but it ignited some hopeful flame inside you. You shifted slightly, leaning to the side while never letting for of the hand you were holding.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer, is just, I was curious, I have never I mean…”

Wanda tried to let go of you, but you were faster than her, and her breath caught in her throat when you intertwined your hand with hers giving her a comforting squeeze. You relaxed into the chair, making sure that the other woman was as comfortable as she could be while you started sharing your story.

“Well, actually, it was quite funny, you know?” The world soon disappeared and in the midst of the greenhouse, near a pond and nature, you started sharing a part of you that not many had worried to ask before.

And, as you words filled Wanda with images of your memories, she herself felt a tug in her heart wanting nothing more than to know more about you, to know more about your process…to perhaps get to see if she was just as brave as you had been when you realized you like women.

______________

The mall was packed.

It seemed as if everyone had decided to go out on that very day to make any shopping and go to the movies. Billy and Tommy were excited to just go outside with America and her friends, they had learnt the hard way to never get too far from the grown ups and as memory goes, they didn’t remember the lats time they were allowed outside in such a place without the watchful eye of their father on them.

As soon as they arrived at the mall, Balder and Loki joined them with Thor and Sif trying to set up some ground rules from the teen and child they were chaperoning for the day. Minutes later, America and Loki had been joined by Kate, Yelena, Kamala and Peter all of them ready to go to the movies before going for something to eat.

“You are a grown man, Loki, so I expect you to be in your best behaviour.”

“Yes, brother, I will be.” Loki rolled his eyes when Thor placed a hand on his shoulder trying to make the same gestures Odin used on him.

“Sif and I will start the shopping list, and we will be around if you need us,” this time around Thor redirected his attention to the rest of the group, “don’t get th youngest out of your sight, and if anything happens…”

“We will scream and ask for help, we know, Thor stop it!”

Thor opened his mouth, but stopped himself when Sif came in, this time around Loki gulped dropping his shoulders and submitting right away.

“We are just concern, Loki, and since you have three young boys under your care we want to make sure everything goes well.”

“We know, Sif, don’t worry, we have your phones and we won’t leave them alone.” Loki grumbled crossing his arms, Sif smile nodding and stepping away.

“Then we will see each other in the food court at 3pm, don’t be late.”

“No, ma’am.”

America held back her laughter when Yelena made a whop sound at Loki’s words, the young man glared at her while Kamala and Peter snickered. Kate held Billy’s hand in hers, she and America glanced at one another and decided to start walking down the hall towards the cinema. Tommy was holding onto America, his eyes huge glancing around the place quite excitedly, squeezing America’s hand while pointing around to the stores.

“America! Look! Look! Did you see that?” Tommy squealed dragging America to a toy store, America chuckled following him with a smile in place.

“Yeah, Tommy, this is one of the biggest toy stores in here, if you want we can go in after the movie.”

Tommy turned to her wide eye, his mouth hanging open.

“Really?”

America almost winced, it was as if Tommy really was completely shocked to be on a place like the shopping centre and more so that he would be allowed to go into a toy store. Kate stood by her side, Billy was standing by her but his eyes were just as wide as those of her brother’s.

“Yeah, kiddo, really.”

America felt a hand on her lower back, she turned to see Kate smiling at her reassuringly, and the young woman returned the smile leaning into the touch. Billy lifted his eyes curious at the interaction, with Tommy blinking with curiosity before grabbing Kate’s hand. The young brunette lowered her stare and her heart almost exited her chest when Tommy joined her hand with that of America, the both of them blushing just as Tommy and Billy each one of them stood by the corners with America and Kate standing closed to one another.

“You know? Those two are far more subtle than you two.” Kamala stated to Loki who had just giving Peter the task to take care of Balder.

“So it seems.” Loki smirked, turning to Yelena and Kamala before speaking loudly, “did you see Chavez and Bishop blush like a pair of schoolgirls with a crush?”

“Shut up, Loki!” America and Kate exclaimed at the same time.

Tommy and Billy had taken it upon themselves to make sure Kate and America were as closed as they could be without crossing the line between friendship and something else.

By the time the movie had started they both sat closed to one another, with billy sitting at America’s right and Tommy sitting at Kate’s left side. America accommodated herself on the seat, her eyes would seek Kate every once in a while finding the other teen smiling at her while also engaging Tommy in small conversation.

“I think this is a good idea.” Kate whispered in America’s ear, the young woman shivered turning to see Kate’s face was dangerously close to hers.

“Wh-what?” America winced at her stutter, Kate merely rolled her eyes leaning closer resting her head on America’s shoulder.

“I think this is a good idea, Tommy and Billy are really enjoying the movie. And I bet your sister is having a good time as well.”

“Oh, yeah, I think so to. But this is thanks to you, Kate.” America hesitated before placing a single kiss on her friend’s forehead.

Kate smiled contentedly, “I guess we really are good together.”

America’s breath caught in her throat, she dared to grabbed Kate’s hands in hers knowing Kate could hear the hammering of her heart at the moment.

“I guess…I guess we do.”

Kate smirked into the movie, she knew it would be just a matter of time, she really hoped so because she was tired of playing the game of mouse and cat with America. Without anything else to say, they spent the rest of the movie holding hands ignoring the knowing glances their friends were sending their way.

By the time they exited the movie, it was almost three in the afternoon.

The movie had been silly, and they found themselves laughing and having a good time shooting cautious glances at one another all through the movie, leaning closer to one another until it was quite obvious tension had been building amongst them. The group had decided to move onto the food court while Loki tried to contact Thor and Sif.

America winced seeing the place completely packed, it seemed as if every single person in the city decided to go that day to the shopping centre.

“There are too many people.” Kamala made a face standing on the tip of her feet trying to look around.

“Ugh, I’m hungry, we should have eaten before going to the movie.” Peter tilted his head grabbing his stomach. “Come, Kam, let’s see if there is anything at the back.”

“Be right back, guys.”

America watched as Peter and Kamala left, and Yelena and Loki made a quick exploration of the different food stalls. Kate observed as Tommy rubbed his eyes, he yawned turning to America and tugging on her sleeve.

“Are you okay, Tommy?” America knelt, tilting her head.

“I’m sleepy.” Tommy yawned again wrapping his arms around America’s neck, the young woman melted picking him up in her arms.

Kate came around with Billy who was still quite active shooting his brother curious glances.

“Is everything alright?” Kate turned to the food court rolling her eyes when she spotted the rest of the group still struggling to get a table.

“Yeah, Tommy is tired, and I think we won’t find any place to sit.” America made a face with Kate wincing as well.

“I think you’re right.” Kate then perked up her eyes growing wide. “Oh, what if we grab the food and go back to your place? Tommy and Billy really looked tired and well…”

“Can we?” Billy mumbled as well, “I’m tired too.”

America shrugged fixing tommy in her arms, Kate melted lightly at the overprotective nature of America with these kids that had ended up becoming like little brothers to her. Kate hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to get Tommy in her arms, America furrowed her brows but the young woman merely shook her head.

“Your back is not completely healed yet, and you look as if you need a hand.” Kate blushed lightly when her hand brushed against America’s. “Besides, you’re the only one that can get them to behave.”

“Thank you, Kate.” America made sure Tommy was comfortable, she leaned closer until her eyes met those of Kate. For a brief moment the both of them looked at one another, like this America could see the soft pink colour in Kate’s cheeks.

Then, as if she just thought about that, America leaned in placing a kiss on Kate’s cheek.

“I’ll be right back then. Billy you take care of them.”

“Yes!”

America winked at Kate turning around to get Loki and the others. Billy shot a curious glance to Kate who was smiling like a fool, her cheeks completely red by now. Tommy stirred in the young woman’s arms, his eyes going wide when he spotted a woman right at the other end of a store. He shivered trying to hide his face while holding tightly onto a very distracted Kate.

Billy stood right beside Kate, talking once more about his favourite cartoon before Balder and the others joined Kate.

No one of them, not even Thor and Sif once they caught up with the group, realized they were being watched. None of them noticed the older woman stepping out of the store with her phone on her hand, her eyes going wide and a frown adorning her features as she went through her contacts to dial a familiar number.

“Vision dear, I hope you’re doing okay.” Agatha Harkness smiled into the phone, her eyes losing sight of the twins but she had already seen enough. “I’m good thank you, I was visiting my sister here in the city when, you won’t believe who I just saw, dear. Your children are here, Tommy and Billy. No, Wanda is not with them. Of course, let me tell you everything.”

The lights in your house and Wanda’s were out.

You parked the car right outside Wanda’s garage, the other woman had fallen asleep along the way knowing her children had gotten home earlier than expected and were just sleeping happily in your home. Snow had started falling by the time you two made it back, the school organization had taken most of the afternoon and the evening, but everything had been left ready for the kids to have a nice festival during the week, and the seniors to have a good dance on Friday.

You turned to Wanda, the young woman was facing you with her right arm around her abdomen and her mouth slightly open. You chuckled leaning in to see if she had started drooling yet, but seemed as if she was just in the early stages of sleep.

That day had been magical.

Wanda had been opened as well, she told you about her childhood back in Sokovia, she was happy telling you about her brother and her mother and how they had learnt English through old sitcoms while their father found a way to move permanently to the States. You had told Wanda about your first time facing your sexuality, and how you went through a lot of dates before finding Shuri. You told her about the tumultuous past with that relationship, the break-ups and the reconciliation, the lack of character on your part to end something that was going nowhere.

Then, everything turned into funny stories of failed mischief.

And her laughter had filled the auditorium while you supervised the set-up of the ice skat rink, and they set-up the music and the platform for the main event. Your heart crushed under the overwhelming affection you felt for the woman sitting beside you, there was a hole in your abdomen filled with butterflies and uncertainty of what exactly you should do. Should you lean in and kiss her? Should just keep sending her messages about how much you like her?

You sighed turning to the house, then back to the woman that was still fast asleep. You wished you were braver than this, that you would just cross the line without the latent fear of losing everything if you were to finally close the distance between the both of you.

“I’m an idiot.” You mumbled before turning around and placing a single hand on Wanda’s cheek. “Hey, Wands, we’re here.”

Wanda stirred leaning into your touch with a single smile decorating her lips, she let her eyelids fluttered for a moment before letting out a yawn she tried to cover with her hand. You chuckled tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, your eyes softening lightly finding her green ones staring at you.

“We’re here already?”

“Yeah, just on time, is starting to snow.”

Wanda stretched out blinking away her sleepy state, she glanced out of the window grinning at the sight of snow falling right outside her window.

“I love this season, you know? It reminds me of home and Pietro.” Wanda leaned back on the seat, wiggling her hands together before turning to you wrapping her arms around you, her mouth close to your ear. “Thank you, today was amazing, Y/N.”

“I’m glad you like it, Wands.” You smiled into the embrace, your hand drawing soothing circles in Wanda’s lower back. “I imagine you could use some grown up time, and I just…I want to see you smile.”

“Why?” Wanda leaned back, but not enough for you to not feel her warm breath on your face.

“You have a beautiful smile, Wands. I think you already know that.” You replied letting your fingertips played with some locks of her hair. “I thought it was pretty obvious how smitten I am for that smile.”

You knew that day you had been playing with fire, and while you had taken a leap of faith, Wanda was still as confused as ever. The young woman didn’t move from her position, and you almost choked yourself with your spit when she leaned over to place a single kiss on your cheek.

“You are not the only one smitten, Y/N, I also like it when you smile.” Then she leaned back and turned to your house. “I think we better go inside, it’s getting cold already.”

Without any more words, the both of you exited the car strolling down the entrance leading to your house; all the lights inside were off but you could see a silver one coming from the basement.

You made your way to the door with Wanda following you closed behind, by the time the both of you got to the bottom of the stairs you had to snort in disbelief at the scene.

“Seems like your house was the center of a sleep over.” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, her lips curling into a soft smile that you shared with her.

“Looks that way, I guess we should let them, right?”

Tommy and Billy had arranged themselves at each side of Kate and America that were sharing the same space, Loki and Yelena were snuggling closer to one another, while Kamala and Peter were sprawled on the corner. There was a movie playing on the TV, but you decided to just leave it there. Everyone was fast asleep, and you could only guess the day for them had been just as tiresome as it had been for you.

“I think we better leave them be.” Wanda grabbed your hand tugging you to her and going upstairs, your heart skipped a beat at the gesture and soon you and Wanda were closing the door of the basement and moving to the kitchen.

“I guess I should get going, I mean…”

“You can stay, you know?”

There were no lights at home, and Wanda was still holding your hand in hers. The younger woman didn’t dare to look you in the eye, and you knew that if she did you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. Wanda gulped chewing on her lower lip, you stepped closer shivering under the stare of the other woman.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

Wanda sighed but did not make any attempt to step back, “you know why.”

You tilted your head, your face falling and your eyes showing your shattered heart.

“I really don’t understand it.” You replied furrowing your brows. “I thought…”

Wanda shook her head, this time around she let go of your hand and her hands cupped your face. She was trembling, much like you were at the moment, and as you locked eyes with her you could see the struggle she was living. The tears in her eyes, the storm going on inside her head.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N, and being near you fills me with unbelievable happiness and I am scared.” Wanda fluttered her eyes close, and you could see a single tear rolling down her cheek. “there are things you don’t know and I wish…I want to tell you, but I just…”

“You need time.” You stated brushing tenderly the tears, Wanda nodded and her lower lip quivered waiting for an answer.

You nodded allowing your arms to sneak around Wanda’s waist pulling her closer to you until you were hugging her comfortingly in your arms. Wanda let out a sob and buried her face on your neck allowing the gesture while her hole body tingled with anticipation.

“So, this means…I didn’t read wrong any of this?” You mumbled softly, “I am known for reading incorrectly into many situations, and I don’t…”

“You didn’t. But I’m not…I just…” Wanda hid herself in the crook of your neck.

“Cool, that’s okay. Don’t worry, I can wait.” You took a deep breath wondering at what moment this outing became such a deep revelation. Having Wanda in your arms felt like heaven, and you really wished you didn’t need to let got.

“You can stay still, you know? I have a guest room and if you…agree to stay with me I will behave.”

This last part made Wanda giggled, she stepped back with her cheeks turned completely red.

“What if I tell you I may not behave myself?” She asked with a glint of mischief in her eyes, you opened and closed your mouth scratching the back of your head feeling the heat rush to your core.

“I would say, follow your heart?”

Wanda laughed leaning in to place a single kiss at the corner of your lips, you closed your eyes only to open them and find her looking at you.

“I think the guest room is okay.”

“Good, then…let’s go.”

That night as you rested on your bed, your eyes fixated on the ceiling you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman sleeping in the other room. Your heart swelled with affection, your mind replaying all that happened that day and how close you felt to Wanda. That day you had crossed one line, and if what Wanda needed it was time, you could give it to her without any issue; you had come to realize she was worth it of the wait. With a single smile on your face, you turned around and fall asleep. Tomorrow would be another day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Next Chapter: The Yule Ball is here! There is a Winter Festval everyone is enjoying and Wanda finally learns the meaning of family. Reader is determine to win her over, and Wanda is finally done waiting. There is a kiss, and some tragedy waiting to happen.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #imagine wanda maximoff #female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader

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eddiemunsonspantschain · 3 months

Text

Things Change Ch.2 - E.M

Author's Note: Life has eased enough that I bring you some actual writing

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Vomit

Tag List: @boomhauer (a patient saint), @corrodedcorpses, @wroteclassicaly . If anyone wants to be tagged, feel free to just hit me up

Going back to classes the following Monday morning hadn’t been the worst. The weekend had passed just the same as it usually did. When Eddie and you were around one another, there were the stolen glances, but otherwise things remained the same. Eddie still teased you from time to time, making you annoyed and shaking your head at him. Before you knew it, two weeks passed in a blink of an eye as finals creeped up on all of the remaining seniors. Group study sessions happened after class with Robin, Nancy, Eddie and yourself in an attempt to all get ready for finals and to get Eddie to a passing grade as he’d been doing better this year than years previously. As usual, you tried to ignore Eddie during these study groups.

Each day you grew more tired. You couldn’t place it, but you were just so tired all the time. No matter how much you slept. It had been like this for almost two weeks. Coupled with your migraines that you got on occasion, it was making you miserable. You had skipped out on hang outs a few times to opt for sitting in the darkness of your room with a cold pack on your eyes. You had suffered from migraines before, taking medication to help with them, and you were thankful the medication worked. You almost hadn’t let Nancy drag you to the party due to a migraine the day before. Sometimes the next day you were just as wiped out despite sitting in the dark all day. Recently, it was no different with your friends coming to check and make sure you were still alive. You were still exhausted but hadn’t had a migraine in a few days. You attributed it to stress from the ending school year and nothing more. After all, it was finals week.

Deciding to take a break from the stress of the end of the year, you met up with Robin to have some girl time. Nancy opted to study, leaving the two of you to have lunch after abandoning Steve to man the Family Video counter.

“I just like, don’t get it,” Robin said as she slid into the booth across from you at Benny’s.

“What don’t you get?” you laughed as you sat down.

The two of you ordered burgers, deciding to get a third for Steve when you were heading out of the place. It wasn’t uncommon for you to grab lunch with Robin when she had a shift at Family Video. You liked to keep her company and step away from Steve for a while. Besides the other added stress.

“How like he has all these girls, but none of them are perfect, ya know?”

You shrugged. “I think Steve just knows what he wants. He’s not looking for some one off. I don’t blame him.” You couldn’t, really. You didn’t date often because most of it was guys wanting to hook up. If you wanted to hook up with a guy, you would. Immediately, your mind flashed back to Eddie. Him on top of you, his breath against your face as he stretched you around his length.

You were pulled out of your head when the smell of something foul reached your nose. You scrunch your nose, trying to wave away the smell.

“Hey, you okay?” Robin stopped her train of thought, seeing you waving away at your face.

“Do you smell that?” you coughed, feeling overwhelmed by the smell. You pulled your shirt up over your nose in the hopes the smell of your perfume helped dissipate the smell of rancid meat.

Robin raised a brow and sniffed the air. She could smell only their food being made, but nothing bad. “I don’t smell anything, Y/N. Are you sure?” she asked, confused as all she could smell was the sizzling burgers on the grill.

You looked at Robin like she was nuts. “It smells like… rancid. Are you serious? You don’t smell that?!” you asked, feeling your stomach churn at the stench. It smelled like someone had left out meat in the sun, rotting away in the heat.

“No?”

You felt a sudden lurch in your stomach. One you dreaded feeling as nausea rolled through you. You slid out of the booth quickly and walked as fast as you could to the women’s bathroom. You shoved into a stall, just making it as you leaned over the toilet and expelled everything you had in your stomach. You heard the door open behind you and the stall door push open, someone pulling your hair back.

“Oh, poor thing. I’ll get her some ginger ale!” You heard someone say before they left again.

“You okay?” Robin asked, tucking back a piece of your hair as you spit into the bowl. A wad of toilet paper was presented to you and you wiped your mouth before tossing the tissue into the bowl and flushing.

You sat on the floor, rubbing your stomach as you let out a breath. “God damn,” you sighed as Robin felt your head.

“You aren’t warm or anything. Did you eat anything bad today?” Robin asked, and you shook your head.

The door to the bathroom opened again, and a waitress stepped in. She knelt down beside you and offered the cup to you, straw pointed at your mouth. “Take slow gentle sips, sweetheart. Don’t wanna make yourself sick again.” she urged, letting you take the cup.

You took a few small sips as the waitress told you she’d have your guys’ food bagged up to go. You nodded your head and got up slowly from the bathroom floor, feeling slightly embarrassed at how you suddenly got ill.

“I’ll take you home… well, more like Steve will take you home.” Robin said, leading you out of the bathroom.

The second you stepped out of there, the smell hit you again, and you held your breath. “I’m gonna wait outside.” you practically ran out the door.

—-----------------------

After what happened at Benny’s, the two of you walked back to Family Video. The nausea had subsided from the fresh air and by the time you guys got back; you were hungry once more. Robin checked in on you, asking if you were sure you wanted to eat after puking earlier. You reassured her you felt perfectly fine and had your lunch with Steve and Robin.

The stomach issues continued for a few more days. In the mornings, you woke up feeling fresh but after being awake for a little while; you felt the nausea hit you like a freight train. It never gave you any warning. You would be fine one moment and then suddenly nauseous the second. You always just managed to make it to the bathroom, only missing the bowl twice so far. You checked all the dates on the food in your fridge, finding nothing wrong with any of it. Besides, if it had been something in the house, you would have figured your mom and dad would be sick too, right? Maybe it was something you had at school. There was also quite a bit of stress going on in your life now days away from the last of your final exams.

You waited for that reprieve. Finals week was heading your way and you were ready to get the testing over with. You studied as much as you could, knowing how your parents had pride in your grade point average. You already had a number of colleges lined up that you were slowly hearing from. You just had no idea what you wanted to do in school. Something your parents kept reassuring you was fine, but being a doctor was a fine choice indeed. Or a lawyer. Being an only child was overbearing, and it made you wonder how you had survived this long. Your parents hovered, the calendar marked with every final you had and your mother shoving a good breakfast at you so you would do well on your final exams. You just wished you could keep that breakfast down and get adequate rest for once. You didn’t even admit to your mom that you weren’t going to eat the breakfast as you’d see it again soon anyway. Instead you found yourself able to eat it later in the morning.

The finals themselves didn’t feel the worst for you. It was dealing with your sickness while testing that had thrown you for a loop. You had to excuse yourself a few times to run to the bathroom to be sick, thankfully having enough time when you came back to finish your exam. When you took your last final, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. Steve decided to treat all of you to some pizza with finals out of the way. Eddie had seemed the most nervous out of all of you. Nancy had reassured him they prepped him well, and he was definitely going to pass this year. Even you agreed that you were sure he would be passing with you all.

With finals out of the way, the rest of the school year was more relaxed. You went in every day more so having the time to say goodbye to your peers and focus on the future ahead of you. For Eddie, as you heard from Dustin, it was about finishing out the best campaign Hellfire had ever done. Since Eddie was leaving, the helm was going to be passed down to one of the other upperclassmen.

It was close to eight pm when you heard from Nancy. Your phone rang and you picked it up. “Y/N! Hey, it’s Nancy. I’m sorry to bother you.” She sighed, “My car is dead and Steve is on another date. Is there a chance you could go get the boys at Hellfire?”

“Your car is dead?” You asked, checking the time and humming. “I can go get the boys. Don’t worry about it.” You reassured her.

“Oh, my god. Thank you! Mom would have been pissed if I didn’t get Mike home on time.”

“No problem, Nance. I’ll grab him.”

You hung up the phone and slid out of bed, grabbing your car keys before slipping your shoes on. You left the house as quietly as you could, sliding into your car and heading back towards Hawkins High. Your parents rarely minded if you were going to get the boys, but considering the time, it was best to sneak out. When you pulled into the parking lot, it was desolate except for Eddie’s van. You parked your car and slid out of it, intending to go inside to get the boys. As you headed for the double doors, you could hear them before you even saw them. The boys were rowdy as they spilled out from the doors. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas spotted you quickly, calling out your name and waving. Soon all the boys were around you as they told you of Eddie’s latest campaign that he cooked up for the end of the year.

“Honestly, it’s so tough but what should we have expected? Eddie to go easy on us?” Lucas scoffed.

“Eddie? Go easy on you boys? Never.” you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Perhaps you should have joined us, sweetheart.” Eddie slid up beside Lucas, shoulder checking him a little bit.

“You know I don’t play, Eddie.”

“I could be your Master and teach you.” he winked, prompting a whine from the younger three males of the group.

“Okay, ew! We don’t need to hear you be weird with y/n, Eddie.” Dustin complained before loudly fake gagging.

“Ha ha, very funny.” you rolled your eyes at Eddie, now ready to leave now that he was being weird.

“It’s alright. I doubt you could handle the bloody details anyway of what happens in our campaigns. Descriptions of blood, pulsing guts and rotting flesh with flies crawling out of it after laying eggs in the supple flesh.” Eddie went on with a grin.

As the boys laughed, you were the only one not laughing as your stomach suddenly was hit with a wave of nausea. Please not now, you pleaded, but before you could have more time to will the nausea back down, you could feel it coming up. You turned without looking, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the floor, but it wasn’t the floor. “Oh, my god!” Gareth yelled out as your vomit hit his shoes instead of the concrete below. He jumped back out of the way as you gagged once more. The boys all fell quiet and a moment later, someone was pulling your hair back. When you finished, you groaned softly, pulling tissues from your pocket to wipe your mouth clean. In your other pocket, mints. You lifted your head and the person holding onto it let go. When you turned, you hadn’t expected Eddie to be so close.

“Shit, sweetheart. I didn’t think gore bothered you that much.” Eddie said, watching you.

“You look a little pale…” Jeff noted, “You sure you can take them back?”

“My shoes,” Gareth whined softly, kicking his feet in an attempt to get the chunks off of his chucks.

“Shut it, Emerson.” Eddie hissed at the boy, much to the surprise of everyone in the group, as he watched your cheeks burn and your eyes move away from everyone else.

“Did you have the sloppy joe at lunch today?” Jeff asked, making Gareth gag in response.

You nodded your head, tossing two mints into your mouth. “Let’s go, boys. Before I puke on you all.” you told them and headed over to your car. The young ones were quick to follow, occasionally asking if you were okay. Each one wishing you to feel better as you dropped them off at their homes and you tried to ignore the embarrassment of puking on Gareth’s shoes.

As soon as you got home, you carefully went back to your bedroom. You shut the door, pressing your back to it and taking a breath before slowly letting it out. Your stomach was fine now. It was beginning to get annoying how often you moved between feeling ill and feeling fine. You pushed yourself off of your door as you made your way to your bathroom. You scrub at your teeth before hopping into the shower to scrub yourself clean of the memory of puking on Gareth’s shoes. Something you would absolutely have to apologize for once you could look at him again.

—----------------------------------------------

“You what on Gareth’s shoes?” Nancy asked again.

You groaned, shoving your pillow onto your face. Hearing a slight snicker you lifted your hand, presenting your middle finger in the direction of Robin’s amusement.

“I puked on Gareth’s shoes.” your muffled reply sounded.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Nancy murmured, and you could practically hear the frown in her words.

“So?” Robin had asked, “nothing else has been wrong.”

“Still, to be randomly nauseous like that for this long? It’s been what?”

You pulled the pillow off of your face and sat up on your bed. “Few weeks.” you answer. From the face Nancy is making, you could tell her journalism mind was at work. You raised a brow at her.

“I mean, have you eaten any weird fish lately or anything?” Robin asked, “cause what if it’s just a super, super bad case of like food poisoning or something. Or! Or!”

“When was the last time you had a period?”

Nancy’s question made both you and Robin fall silent and stare at her in shock. “I…” a sudden panic washed over you like a cold wave of water hitting you on a hot summer day. You slid off of your bed and run to your calendar pinned on the wall. Robin pressed behind you, watching you could up the days leading to the red dots on your calendar. “My last period… should have… should have been over a week ago,” you murmured, thankful for Robin behind you as you suddenly felt lightheaded.

“You’re late.” Robin said softly, tapping the current day and how many days between now and when your dots were. “Not over a week. Over two weeks.” Robin corrected your counting.

“That’s… that’s impossible,” you mumble frantically to yourself.

Nancy moved over to your night table, opening up the drawer where she knew you kept your medicine in. She plucked the package of birth control up easily and began counting up the pills. Her brow furrowed as she counted over them again.

“Is a dose missing?” Robin asked her and Nancy shook her head.

“No, there isn’t.” Nancy answered.

“So I can’t be! I haven’t missed any doses!” you insist, but Nancy seems less convinced.

“I mean… how effective is it? Like, can it just like… fail?” Robin asked the room.

Nancy was still inspecting the package when another box caught her eye. She picked it up, reading the label on the box and shaking it slightly. “How long have you been taking these?” she asked, showing you the box.

You looked at the bottle in her hand. “Uh, like, once in a while. I was getting some wicked migraines. Doctor told me to try those.” you answer and Nancy frowns.

“Did they mention anything about it interfering with birth control?” she asked.

You stared at her. “That… that can happen?” you asked, voice small and insecure as you realized maybe somehow you had made this happen.

Nancy turned the box over in her hands and shook out the paper pamphlet. She unfolded it, eyes scanning over the contents quickly. A breath she had been holding was let go. “That’s it. Get your shoes on. Both of you.” she announced, setting aside the paper and going for her own shoes.

“Where are we going?!” Robin asked as she grabbed her shoes, struggling to pull them onto her feet.

“The pharmacy.”

—------------------------------------------------

The drive to the pharmacy was a relatively quiet one. It seemed none of you knew what to say or do. You went to the pharmacy instead of Melvalds, not wanting to risk possibly running into Joyce who would absolutely have questions if she saw you buying pregnancy tests. Nancy parked the car and the three of you walked into the store. You stuck close to the girls, unsure what to do with yourself. When you got to the aisle you needed the three of you stood there looking at the different boxes.

“Does… does it matter which kind we get?” Robin asked. “This is terrifying.”

“I mean, I would think either way it’ll do what it has to.” Nancy said, glancing at you.

You stared at the wall of pregnancy tests. “How…” you murmur, unsure what to do with yourself.

“Here,” Nancy grabbed two boxes. “This is more than enough.”

Robin grabbed two more boxes. “Just to be sure.” she shrugged when you both looked at her. The three of you approached the counter, dumping the contents onto it as the cashier raised a brow at you. It was a teen, thankfully. Not that you needed an adult breathing down your neck right now. After paying for all the tests, the three of you shuffled back to Nancy’s car and headed straight for your home once more.

As soon as the three of you shut up into your room, the boxes were being opened. Robin ran downstairs to get you a drink, returning with a huge glass of water.

“What?” she asked when she saw the look on your face. “You have a lot of peeing to do!”

“Good point.” you answer, taking the glass and starting to chug down the water.

Nancy picked up one of the paper instructions from the box and began reading through it. “Okay, so it’s going to take a couple of minutes before we see anything. Let’s try two for right now,” she decided, taking out two of the sticks and holding them out to you.

You grab the tests, hesitating before going to the bathroom. You set the tests down before shimmying your pants and panties down then moving to sit on the toilet. You take the sticks, reaching between your thighs and watching to make sure you got them covered and wiping yourself clean. After washing your hands, you take them back out to the girls and set them on the night table. Robin immediately turns them over so you can’t see the result.

“Why did you do that?” you asked her and she shrugs.

“I don’t want you watching it develop and get your hopes up… or down.” she explains.

The three of you sit back as you wait for the tests to develop. You didn’t know what you would do if you were pregnant. You were barely graduating highschool. Your last finals were only last week. Your graduation started to inch closer and closer. Your hands found their way to rest on your stomach. Has it changed at all? You weren’t sure. You assumed it was bloating. Maybe it hadn’t been. Still, that didn’t change the fact that you still had no idea what to do if you were pregnant. Would you tell your parents? Well, you supposed you’d have to since you lived in their home. What about college? What about… You didn’t want to think about him. Not yet. It would be fine. You prayed for a stomach bug. Nancy seemed so sure of herself, though. It was hard to dispute it. A hand gently grabbed your shoulder and you glanced over at Nancy.

“It’s time.” she murmured, looking at the two sticks sitting on the nightstand.

You take a deep breath, reaching for the tests. They felt warm in your hands and you shut your eyes as you turned them over. You stare down at the tests. They were blue. You look over at Nancy as she holds the box. She bit her lip, looking up at you.

“I’m pregnant.” you breathed, looking back down at the two blue sticks.

—----------------------------

You end up using the two other tests you had purchased. All of them had come out positive. You sat there with all the positive tests, unsure what to do now.

“So, who is it?” Robin asked you, gently kicking your shoe with her foot as she sat across from you on the floor. Nancy was sitting beside you.

“What?” you asked softly, looking up at Robin.

“Who’s, ya know, the dad?”

You could feel Nancy’s eyes boring into the side of your head. You knew she knew. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Rob.” you murmur. It’s not that you don’t trust Robin, but you knew how hard it was for her to keep a secret sometimes. She would surely end up telling Steve. Even if she didn’t mean to. Which might lead Steve to wanting to ‘talk’ to Eddie. Nancy grabbed your hand, squeezing reassuringly. How could you let anyone know who it was? You didn’t want to ruin his life like that. Not when he just, finally, graduated highschool after trying multiple times. You couldn’t spring this on him. Even if you didn’t particularly like Eddie, you couldn’t ruin his life like this.

You just couldn’t.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #pregnant!reader

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

Text

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 2

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 1

Your words hung heavy in the air for a moment, before you opened your eyes, and gave a small smirk.

"But if that was a punishment I'm going to have to misbehave more often."

Mihawk shoved at your hip a little as your smirked widened. "We happen to be on a bit of time crunch, my dear," he reminded you. "I still have an appointment to make."

"Excuses," you said airily, rolling onto your back. You tipped his hat down over your eyes, stretching your arms back out behind your head. "What the hell is a vice admiral doing in Shell's Town anyway?"

"Apart from being a thorn in my side?" Mihawk shifted onto one elbow, his eyes passing over you as you lowered one arm to rest your hand over your bare stomach. His gaze landed on your arm, his mouth turning down in a frown as he took in the scars across it once more, like horizontal stripes across your soft skin, spanning from your delicate wrist to an inch above your elbow. "I imagine still handling the backlash of the sacking of Axe-Hand Morgan."

"He was fired?" you asked, amused. "What, because ofnthe Strawhats?" He gave a small hum in affirmation as you laughed. "That's hilarious." You shifted on the sheets, stretching your back with a slow sigh. "I may just stay right here while you handle your appointment. I don't think I can stomach so many Marines in one place."

"I would request that you venture out long enough to resupply." Another sigh left you, this one in clear protest. You had made quite clear your particular distaste for the company of Marines over the past few months, though not your reasons, a subject you tended to avoid as aptly as your scars. "It would lessen our time here." He rest a hand tentatively over your wrist, and didn't fail to notice how you recoiled slightly when his thumb brushed across a few of the mark. "Put us leaving as soon as I've finish dealing with Garp."

"Fine," you said shortly. Your arm slipped away from his hand, a subtle movement but one with a clear message, and pulled his hat from your head to drop it onto his, sitting up on the bed. You reached behind you and unhooked your torn bra. "The sooner the better. I am the errand girl, after all."

"Are you going to skirt around the subject forever?"

You paused for a moment—a brief, almost imperceptible moment—in picking up your shorts from the floor of the cabins. "No idea what you're referring to," you said casually, tossing his pants onto the bed.

"The scars," he said plainly, shifting to the edge of the bed to pull his pants back on, watching you disappear behind the door of the wardrobe at the other end of the cabin.

"There's no subject," you said, just as calmly, but he was sure he would have seen your shoulders grow tense had you not been hidden behind the door. "I've been on the seas for nearly ten years, anyone would have a few scars after that long."

"Ten," he repeated, his brow furrowed. "You're twenty-four."

"Nearly ten years," you repeated again. "It's not as if I've been pirating the entire time. That's only been...around six years."

"And what precisely were you doing prior to that?"

"It's a long story. And not a very interesting one." You shut the wardrobe, still buttoning a flowy white shirt—long sleeve, as usual, covering your arms. "And we're on a time crunch."

"We'll have all the time in the world after we're done here." As always—it was one step forward and two steps back with you. Mihawk stood and caught you by the waist before you could stroll out of the cabin, turning you to face him. Your shoulders were tensed, your jaw clenched as you met his eyes. "I hate to use our arrangement as pull, but if I must, I will." You averted your gaze as he lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of your hair behind your ear. "I prefer to know those working under me."

"Fine," you said through your teeth, pushing his hand away. "I go play errand-girl, you go play Garp's lap-dog, then we have a nice relaxing interrogation to round it all off, hmm?"

Mihawk lifted his eyebrows, a bit taken aback at how you swatted his hand away—but your scathing tone didn't surprise him too much. He wasn't exactly known for his openness, and it wasn't too big of a stretch that your own largely solitary career had kept you from being particularly open with anyone. That you would be defensive and stubborn to the point of hostility if anyone pushed the present subject.

But he could be plenty stubborn himself.

He lifted his hand again, wrapping it around your chin this time, resting his forehead against yours so you had nowhere else to look except for his eyes. He couldn't expect vulnerability from you without offering the same. Even if it was only a little to start, it was only fair.

He pressed a brief, deep kiss against your lips, and you met his eyes fully when he parted from it. "I love you. I'm fairly certain you are no more accustomed to hearing that than I am to saying it." You glanced away for the barest of moments, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "But it's the truth, and...I suppose it means there are certain matters we will need to meet halfway on. This is one of them."

"I already said I'd talk." The outright hostility had gone from your voice, but there was still a little annoyance buried in your quiet tone. "It's just...not an easy subject." There was something else there, sone other emotion, but before he could pinpoint what it was, you sighed and laid your forehead heavily against his broad chest. "Sorry I called you a lap-dog."

"Garp's lap-dog, at that." You hung your head lower with a small whine. "I've severed heads for less."

"Weird." You lifted your head, laying your temple against his shoulder and blinking up at him. "It's almost like you like me or something."

Mihawk could only stare at you in disbelief for a long moment as you grinned cheekily. After a moment he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Or something," he said, and tilted his head down to pull you into a firm, lingering kiss.

You looped an arm around his neck, sighing softly and melting against him. Priorities briefly forgotten as your fingernails raked lightly down his back, he tugged you closer by your hips and pressed you back against the cabin wall, pushing his tongue into your mouth, hands under the hen of your shirt—

Until a grating CRASH sounded outside, and the small ship lurched violently, immediately breaking your lips apart. He tightened his grip on your waist until the ship grew steady, registering what had happened as the pair of you heard the sounds of shouting and commotion outside. He gritted his teeth, lying his head back with a heavy sigh.

"I believe we've arrived."

"Oh—" Your eyes widened as his meaning truly sunk in. "Oh, sh—"

You shoved away from him, hurrying to push open the door to the deck as Mihawk placed a hand against the wall, pinching at the bridge of his nose. This day was not at all panning out how he had hoped it would—a potential kidnapping, arguing, and now crashing a brand new ship into a town full of Marines. He glanced over when you heaved a sigh of relief and leaned in the doorframe.

"Looks like we just hit the dock," you said, running a hand back through your hair.

"Is that all?" he replied dryly as you headed out onto the deck. He heard the sails lowering as he collected his wits and crossed the room to grab his coat.

"Doesn't look like there are any major damages," you called back.

"No damages?!" Mihawk paused in pulling on his coat, glancing toward the doorframe to see you peering over the railing at the bow of the sloop, as a particularly surly Marine cadet with cropped yellow-blond hair stood overhead on the dock shouting. "You've taken out two of the supports! Are you completely daft?"

You looked up at the cadet. "Not completely," you replied to him pleasantly. "And I assure you I'm more than happy to provide compensation."

"Oh, yes, because a teenage girl in a rowboat can afford the Berry required for structural repairs on an entire dock."

"I'm twenty-four." The pleasantries were quickly leaving your tone. Mihawk quickly strapped Yoru to his back, hellbent on keeping this from turning into any more if a scene than it already was. "And it's hardly my fault that my rowboat is more structurally sound than your dock, sir. Who's in charge here? I would prefer to speak with them directly rather than stand here and be insulted."

"As a senior cadet serving directly under Vice Admiral Garp, I am in charge here, miss."

"Sounds like he wanted you as far away as possible. Can't say I blame him—"

"I will have you know that I—"

"(Y/N)." You jerked your head over your shoulder as Mihawk stepped onto the deck, glancing at the cadet. Up close he recognized the boy as the son of the ex-Captain Axe Hand Morgan, though his name didn't come to mind. Clearly the self-righteous twig recognized him however, as his jaw fell open mid-sentence. You gave a small snort of laughter that you attempted, unsuccessfully, to pass off as clearing your throat. "Finish getting your things, I'll handle this."

"He called my ship a rowboat."

"I'm aware," he said wearily. He place his hand on top of your head and pushed you back a couple steps. You pursed your lips, tossed one last glare at the surly cadet, and stalked off toward the cabins. Mihawk turned his gaze back to the cadet, who stood at attention immediately on the damaged dock. "I'm afraid my associate and I were discussing business and lost track of how close we were to land. Fetch your shipright and have him write up an estimate. I will provide compensation to the vice admiral directly."

"O—of course, sir. My apologies—"

"And send word ahead to Garp that I have arrived. I would prefer not to linger here any longer than necessary."

"S—Sir."

The cadet gave a quick salute and hurried off as quickly as his feet would carry him. Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned, leaning against the back of the bow and crossing his arms while he waited. At least the ship itself had suffered no damages—as he had expected, given the strength of the hull's armor—nor had it hit any other vessels. It was a small blessing, if nothing else.

You emerged from the cabins with your daggers at either side of your belt, the head of a lion carved into each of their ornate ivory hilts that resting at your waist, your belt satchel strapped around your thigh and your throwing knife sheaths around your oposite calf. You were still pulling up one of your brown leather boots as you crossed the deck.

"What a mess," you commented, leaning against the bow next to him and cringing at the sight of the lop-sided dock. He watched you drop your hat onto your head from the corner of his vision, an old and tattered leather tricorne that you refused to replace as much as you refused to discuss its point of origin. "I'll pay for the damages. Being that it's my ship and all."

"If you insist on it, we will split the cost," he said. You glanced at him, frowning. "We're both responsible for losing track of time."

"Fair," you admitted, chuckling a little. "Fifty-fifty it is, then. I'm going to get a head-start on resupplying."

As you put a leg-up on the railing, Mihawk wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop you. You glanced over, frowning curiously.

"You'll be careful," he instructed. "I am under contract with the World Government, but you are not. Keep your head down." You had made your distaste for Marines clear on more than one occasion, and your interaction with Morgan's son minutes earlier did nothing but prove it. "Cadet or otherwise, don't get yourself into any unnecessary altercation."

"I'll be fine," you said confidently. He lifted an eyebrow at you, making his skepticism known. "I will. I've managed to avoid ending up with a bounty for six years. I'm not going to ruin that by making a scene right outside a Marine base."

"Good." He let go of your wrist, turning to the side to watch you climb onto the railing and hop over to the ruined end of the dock. "Out of curiosity," he added slowly, and you looked down over your shoulder, "how have you managed to avoid accruing any bounty?"

"Ah, well, that's the beauty of working as a mercenary, isn't it?" You crouched down, crossing your arms over your knees and leaning forward slightly over the bow, smiling. "Keeping a low profile. I've never spent long enough with any single crew to gain notoriety."

"Then what a lucky little thing you've been." He leaned forward against the bow, glancing around to ensure that no one was nearby, and then curled a hand behind the nape of your neck to briefly press his lips to yours. "Just be careful."

"I promise not to cause you any unnecessary paperwork," you said lightly, smirking. You pressed your lips to his once more before pulling back, his hand slipping away from your neck. "Hopefully your master won't keep you too long."

His mouth turned down in a frown as you grinned. "Don't push it, dear."

"Woof woof."

It took every ounce of his self-control not to seize you by your wrist and pull you right back onto the sloop—but he refrained, shaking his head a little as you straightened out. Your present locale was a bit too public, but it would be a different story when he had you alone later.

You cheekily blew a kiss, and Mihawk lifted an eyebrow, waving one hand in a shooing motion.

"Oh, so cold," you sighed, poking your bottom lip out in a small pout.

"I'd prefer to wait for the real thing."

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, and his eyes trailed after you as you strolled down the dock and toward town. Still infuriating and intriguing in euqal measure, but Mihawk knew you were capable of handling yourself. If you detested Marines as much as you claimed, there was no doubt you would handle your business in town and return to the docks as quickly as possible.

The shipwright arrived minutes later, an old amicable and heavily bearded man who quickly assessed the damages to the dock and quickly wrote up an invoice. After maneuvering the small ship to the neighboring undamaged dock Mihawk carried a small chest of berry over his shoulder to the Marine base at the center of the town, and turned down escort to the vice admiral's office; he knew his way around well enough.

A cadet opened the door when he knocked, and left after him. Mihawk dropped the chest onto the heavy desk at the center of the sprawling office before rempving Yoru from his back. He took a seat, reclining back in the chair across from the old vice admiral, staring levelly at him.

"For the damages at the docks," said Mihawk, gesturing toward the chest as Garp briefly lifted the lid and looked back across the desk. "The estimate was twelve thousand. You'll find at least fifteen. For the inconvenience."

"Good enough." He push the chest aside to one end of the desk, and leaned forward against it. "You know why I asked you to come by, Mihawk."

"I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me." He crossed one of his ankles over his oposite knee, folding his hands together. "I presume it must be important. I have a perfectly good transponder that could be utilized for lesser matters."

Garp leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand into his eyes in clear frustration. "The past couple assignments you've been assigned," he said. "You've sent someone else to complete them."

"I have," he allowed, and lifted his eyebrows. "As I know your other Warlords have done plenty."

"The other six Warlords have crew that are known by the World Government. You don't." Garp leaned an elbow into the arm of his chair, his brow furrowing. "I've heard a few descriptions. I also know the girl's in town. I could send word right now for her to be brought in on sight." Mihawk's brow furrowed as well, his posture tensing the slightest bit, watching as Garp shifted forward again and picked up a pen from his desk. "If you're taking associates under your wing, it's as much your business as it is the Wirld Government's business." He tapped at the paper in front of him, glancing down at it. "Young woman. Late teens to early twenties. Between five-foot-two and five-foot-four inches tall, carries two daggers and a handful of throwing knives. Sound accurate so far?"

"Yes," Mihawk replied through his teeth as he watched Garp write, all at once wondering just how much he honestly valued his alliance with the World Government. One single wrong answer, one wrong move, and Garp could send word down to have you taken into custody. For years Mihawk hadn't had a thing to worry about where this alliance was concerned. Nothing that could be held against him.

He drew in a slow breath, fighting to keep his temper in check in the confines of the vast office.

"Is there anything else?" he asked lightly, lifting his eyebrows.

"Brown leather tricorne hat," Garp went on, his eyes level with Mihawk's. He set the pen down. "A square patch sewn onto the left side of the brim. Couple more on the back." He lifted his eyebrows as Mihawk's drew down in a sharp line. "Hates Marines with a burning passion, I'd guess."

He still kept his mouth shut, his eyes locked onto Garp's as the old vice admiral stared back.

"Your honesty on the subject is tantamount to this girl's continued freedom," he said.

"Yes," Mihawk said again, finally. "I can't seem to see the issue here. She doesn't have a bounty."

"And she won't." He watched Garp pick up his report and crumble it into a ball. He tossed it across the desk, and Mihawk caught it. "So long as the correct people remain in power and she doesn't do anything stupid."

Mihawk glanced at the ball of paper in his hand, and back across at Garp. "Why?"

"She hasn't said?" He gave a hearty laugh. "Ask her how the Marines ruined her life. I'd bet you'll get quite an earful." He shrugged a shoulder. "Or a dagger to the throat, if she takes after her grandmother."

You had mentioned being raised by your grandmother—and being trained by her. Garp bent down in his chair slightly, pulling a drawer out behind his desk, and shutting it. He straightened back out and slid a yellowed old sheet of paper across the desk, torn and crumbled and faded.

A wanted poster. Mihawk lifted it from the desk, scanning over it, over the picture and the name beneath, his brow lifting a bit at the bounty—two billion, six hundred thousand berries.

"Helena Lionne."

At the sketch of a woman that resembled you so remarkably, grinning widely, tilting back the tricorne hat atop her head with an equally familiar dagger. Mihawk glanced up to see the old vice admiral lighting a cigar.

"They called her 'The Siren,'" he said. "She was the big game in town before Roger. We lost count of how many Marines she either killed or seduced. Only reason her bounty didn't rival Roger's is because she never attacked us unless we went after her first. Came out of nowhere, took the Grand Line by storm for a few years, then vanished. As good as anybody can guess now, that was when she decided to start a family. Settled down in a little village on an uncharted island with half of her crew and spent decades off the radar.

"The Admiral that finally found her ten years ago had a personal vendetta. She'd killed his father in front of him while she was still active and then personally delivered his head on a pike to the World Government Headquarters as a warning. They fought it out for a couple days. Destroyed the whole village before he got a hold of her granddaughter and used her as leverage. He never planned on taking her in alive. Slit her throat right in front of the girl and carried her head back to headquarters, along with a few members of her crew that managed to survive, and left the kid there to rot just to add insult to injury."

Mihawk's eyes only left Garp occasionally to glance back down at the old bounty poster. The woman who had raised you. Who you had witnessed murdered and decapitated by a psychotic Marine admiral driven by revenge ten years ago before being left to die simply for sharing her blood.

And now you were wandering a town full of Marines on your own.

God dammit.

"It didn't sit very well with his superiors," said Garp, as Mihawk folded the wanted posted and stuck it in his pocket, remaining silent as he waited for the man to finish. "None of it did. He and the entire crew he took along for the ride were stripped of their merit, discharged, arrested for murder. It took two weeks of interrogation for him to give up the location of the island. Took a few more days to get there from Marineford. Whole island was practically a rock. Not even damn tree left standing. Fourteen year old girl on her own for two and a half weeks, I figured she'd be dead, but her grandma apparently taught her a little more than anyone expected." He shook his head with a scoff, puffing on his cigar. "Little shit had made a spear to catch fish out of a throwing knife and a shovel handle she found in the wreckage. She was halfway finished building a goddamned raft. Kicked and fought the whole way back to the ship. We had to put her in the brig and take her knives because she was threatening to kill any and every Marine she could get her hands on. We still hadn't even figured out what to do with her when she managed to charm some poor fifteen year old cadet into stealing her weapons back and helping her escape on a dinghy. Just as bad as her damned grandmother. I figured she was dead meat then, but I guess she's done pretty well for herself."

"So it seems." Mihawk had no trouble keeping a straight face and a calm demeanor in almost any situation. His stoney expression didn't shift or twitch once while he listened, his posture remaining relaxed as he leaned back in the chair with his hands folded over his stomach. Yet the more Garp said, the more anxious he was growing to get back to you. "As much as I love our little chats, Garp, I do have prior engagements. I'm sure you didn't call me all the way here to just to provide me anecdotes about my, ah, assistant's personal history."

"Yeah, yeah," said Garp gruffly. "You've got a few assignments." Cigar clamped between his teeth, he shifted a few papers around on his desk and found a thick envelope. He tossed it across the desk at Mihawk, who lifted a single hand and caught it without any real effort. "They'll have you headed for the Grand Line. Off the record, I'd appreciate it if you kept an ear out for anything about Luffy. If he you hear he's come in contact with Fire Fist Ace, give me a call."

"Is that all?" Garp held his hands out and gave a short nod, leaning back in his chair and pulling his cigar from his mouth. "Good." Mihawk stood, lifting his sword from beside the chair. "I wish I could say it's been pleasant seeing you."

"Ah, yeah, same to ya." He sighed, making a shooing motion toward the door. "Cold bastard."

"Yes, well." He finished securing Yoru to his back, glancing at Garp. "One doesn't become known as one of the most powerful men in the world by behaving like a bleeding heart fool. That being said...."

He rest his elbow on the back of the chair for a moment, leaning to the side against it.

"Your old psychotic comrade." Garp puffed at his cigar, waiting. "I assume he's the one who gave her the scars?"

"Scars?" He took one last puff, putting out his cigar and furrowing his brow. Garp shook his head slowly. "Well, she had one when we found her. Here." He tapped the side of his neck, a couple inches away from a major artery. "He gave her that one. Planned on slitting her throat if Helena didn't cooperate. Apart from that...." He shook his head and shrugged. "Can't say I'm aware of any others."

Mihawk tapped at the back of the chair for a moment. As clearly perplexed as he was, there was no doubt that Garp was telling the truth. Answers that only led to more questions—this run-around was quickly getting old. He straightened back out.

"I shall contact you once I've finished my chores," Mihawk said finally, waving the envelope before tucking it into his coat. Garp just rolled his eyes, making another shooing motion.

"Feel free to let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Of course."

As soon as he emerged into the empty hall outside the office and shut the door, Mihawk leaned against the wall and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a quiet growl of frustration. His head was beginning to pound at the onslaught of information Garp had shoved down his throat in the duration of their brief meeting.

Your history, the beginning of your life outside the confines of the law was stained in blood and riddled with the horrors of man—and yet you hadn't mentioned a word of it before strolling off into a town infested with Marines. Nothing except the fact that you detested them and wished to conclude your business here as quickly as possible, indicating that those old wounds weren't entirely healed.

And still no answer to explain those damned scars—and he doubted you were going to open up to that discussion very easily.

(Ch. 3)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #one piece headcanons #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

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teriri-sayes · 8 months

Text

TCF Author Q&A (Quick Summary)

Ridi, one of the Korean publishers of TCF/LCF, released an exclusive Q&A with Yoo Ryeo Han, the author of TCF, as a special feature for the release of the Korean ebook version of TCF.

The ebook has 5 volumes, spanning chapters 1-117 of Part 1. It costs around 12,960 won. The Q&A can only be viewed if you buy the ebooks.

Since the Q&A isn't publicly available for free, I won't post a full translation of it. Just a quick summary of it.

***

Q: How do you write the entire story? A: Set the overall flow, and write the details as I write. Ending has already been decided.

Q: Easiest or most difficult character to create a setting? A: Easiest - none. Most difficult - Choi Han.

Q: Character that changed the most from the initial setting? A: Alberu. Supposed to be an insignificant villain, but changed to someone who talks well with Cale when I came up with the glib tongue trait.

Q: Writer's block solution? A: Just write. Eventually, I become immersed and get ideas.

Q: Most important focus when planning the story? A: The characters. I like them to feel alive.

Q: Cat owner? A: Sadly, I'm not a cat mom.

Q: Writing routines? A: I write in the morning.

Open previous chapter

Play a puzzle game while listening to fave entertainment program

Choose music that suits the mood

Start writing

Q: Stress relievers? A: Before, eating. Now, weight lifting in the gym.

Q: Main characters's MBTI? A: Cale is an "I." I never thought about the others.

Q: Author's MBTI? A: Between INFJ and ISFJ. A relaxed J.

Q: Character you want to be a friend? A: Beacrox - he cooks delicious food Cale - he buys good meat Not CH because I hate strenuous exercise

Q: Modern AU of characters? A:

Raon: Kindergarten student On, Hong: Elementary school students Cale: Workaholic dreaming of a slacker life Choi Han: Fencer Alberu Crossman: Young CEO of the company Cale works in Rosalyn: Youngest professor Lock: High school student Ron: Doctor Beacrox: Chef Eruhaben: Building owner who runs a convenience store in his building and buys snacks for Raon, On, and Hong every day

Q: Character that makes you feel bad and care about because they're in pain? A: Lock. Lock-centric arc soon.

Q: Similarities with Cale? A: Doing nothing while resting and lying down.

Q: Best character line? A: Not a character line, but a sentence - "But it's worth a try." (Teriri: This sentence can be found on the first chapters of both Parts 1 and 2.)

Q: Fave scene? A: Raon Miru naming scene.

Q: Happiest scene? A: Cale coughing blood... When Cale and his friends are eating and resting.

Q: Most difficult to write scene? A: The past of the characters.

Q: How many chapters from start to end? A: No comment because I always get it wrong...

Q: Work environment? A: Write alone with background music. But no public places.

Q: What songs do you listen to? A: Pop songs.

Ed Sheeran – I See Fire

Sia – Alive

Sia – Floating Through Space

Keala Settle – This Is Me

Naomi Scott – Speechless

AKMU – Chantey

Ahn Ye Eun – Sailing

Younha – Oort Cloud

Q: Most important character setting? A: Disposition, way of life, goals, and atmosphere they exude.

Q: Setting that reflects author's preference? A: The Indestructible Shield.

Q: Scene you want to write the most? A: Has not come out yet.

Q: Do you like dumplings? A: I love them to the point my family is amazed that I'm not tired of it.

Q: You like misunderstandings, so are you a misunderstood person? A: No. I'm far from it.

Q: Snacks you eat when writing? A: Lots of water. I eat food during breaks.

***

And that's all. If you want to read the full Q&A and legally support the author, you can buy the ebooks on Ridi. It's only around 10 USD if you convert Korean won. Link here: https://ridibooks.com/books/111048924

However, you can't use Google Translate or screenshot it, so your solution is to have two devices. One has the ebook (either in PC view or in Ridi app), and the other device has the Google Translate app installed so you can use the camera to translate the text... Yeah, that's what happened to me. 🥲

#trash of the count's family #tcf ebook

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bangtaninborderland · 1 month

Text

JHS - Twisted Feelings (15)

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Warning: themes of stalking.

A/N: it was my grandmas funeral today, I felt bad not posting. I’ll trying to get my shit together lol.

Ch.14 | MasterList | Ch.16

It had taken you twice as long to pack everything thanks to the continuous throbbing on your side and because you’d refused help. Hoseok had cancelled your Saturday session with Jungkook asking to do your Sunday session over video call.

You were thankful for the time it gave you to prepare for the move, all you had to do was find a moving company and everything was set. In all honesty you were excited about the prospect of a new apartment, it was significantly nicer than the one you had now but you couldn’t help feeling sentimental.

This was the first thing you had for yourself after leaving home. The first place you convinced a landlord to let you rent as an immature adult, the first place you’d brought a doormat for, the first place you’d had a taste of independence at.

It would be a place you missed but not a place you wished to return to.

You limped your way up the stairs, the thought of taking the elevator alone making your stomach churn uncomfortably. The halls were bare which wasn't weird for 8am on a Monday, with everyone either busy with a schedule or at home not yet being required to work. You still had 30 minutes until you were due to have your class with Hoseok which was definitely a blessing as you continued to hop your way to your ‘office’ with as little issue as possible.

“Yn?”

You nearly made, so nearly made it to relaxing in your comfortable chair for a little while before teaching all day. “Yes?”

You turn to find Jimin watching you, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine jimin-ssi.” You smiled through your teeth.

“Ah” he shook his head. “Taehyung and I already agreed on us all being Informal with each other, we are all the same age.”

“I know, I still want to be professional when it calls for it though. I just don’t want anyone thinking badly of me.” You admit, working around celebrities had meant you had to carry yourself differently least everyone suspect you to be fame hungry or whatever other accusation they could come up with. “Is everything okay?”

“I just noticed you were limping.” He gestured to your leg and you did all you could to stand straight.

“It’s fine.” You brush him off. “Just too much walking.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember you being checked out after the elevator accident.” He frowns as though recalling the incident.

The last thing you want is to spend any more unnecessary time doing unprofessional things in your very professional workplace. “I promise i'm okay. I was fine afterwards, I was packing all weekend and overdid it. If it gets any worse I’ll go to the doctor for a check up.”

He sighs, thankfully giving up on the matter. “Okay, Hyung should be here soon. If you need anything Jungkookie and I are going to be practising in studio B. Come and find us whenever.”

“Thank you, I will do. Have a good practice.” You wave him off as you enter your office, grunting as your body slumps rather ungracefully into the chair.

You quickly organised the papers you needed for the day, finding Hoseoks folder and setting it out on the desk ready for whenever he came.

You felt your bag vibrate against your leg, reaching down to grab your phone.

No caller ID

You tried to think about who would be calling you, it wasn’t as though an abundance of people had your number but then again with the move you’d had to contact a few moving companies and of course your new landlord.

You picked up. “Hello?”

“Blue shirt, black dress pants, you have a limp… I guess you did get hurt in the elevator after all.” The voice was distorted, it sounded like somethi he straight from a horror movie.

You hung up quickly, stuffing the phone in your bag as you checked out of the small window.

Someone was watching you, someone was watching you and knew exactly what you were wearing…did they cause the elevator accident too?

“Hey.” Hoseok knocked on the door, making you jump. “Woah I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, hands up as a surrender.

“No no.” You quickly apologise, grabbing his folder and the extra pens you’d brought. “I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You look scared, is everything okay?” He asks as he slides onto the chair opposite you.

“Yeah, I got lost in my own head, ignore me.” You laugh, pulling out the necessary worksheets. “I thought we could practice conversation today, it’s better if you learn the correct grammar for speaking rather than writing. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you think is best.” He agrees, taking a sip of his coffe before cleaning closer and giving you a full whiff of ‘expensive’.

You talked him through a few conversation starters, correcting him whenever he responded incorrectly before moving on to some vocabulary games, throwing in a few awful jokes along the way to make it a better experience for the rapper.

“You’re good at this.” He laughs out.

You can’t help but smile. “At what?”

“Making boring things fun. You don’t make me feel as though I can’t do it.” He explains sincerely.

“I’m happy to.” And you were, despite the fact it was your job it brought you joy. “Okay so just a few more vocabulary cards and then we will practice again and you can take a test.”

“I feel like im back in high school.” He sighs dramatically. “So much for graduating.”

“Actually, your cover of that graduation song was played at my school when we left.” You couldn’t help but recall the memory, a few of your classmates had gathered to do a little dance to it.

“Really?” He sat forward, eyes wide in surprise. “Did you listen?”

“I even danced to it.” You were fine embarrassing yourself if it made him laugh more.

“Wow.” He leans back. “I want to see.”

“Pass the test and I’ll ask my eomma to send me the video.” You shrug, sliding the paper over to him.

He looks at the paper. “What about the questions and vocabulary cards.”

“I’m making teaching fun.” You laugh, packing them away. “Good luck on your test.”

“I take it back, you are just like my high school English teacher.” He huffs playfully, picking up the pen.

He takes 25 minutes to completely finish, only asking for clarification on one question which was an improvement from your last few classes. You marked it quickly, his leg shaking in anticipation.

“So?” He asks the second you set the red pen down.

You fake a frown. “I guess I’ll text my eomma and ask.”

“Yes!” He shouts, slapping the table in excitement.

“You’ve done really well today, you should be proud of yourself. In between our classes you should listen to podcasts, YouTube videos, music, anything with English as much as possible. It may seem stupid if you can’t understand it all but I promise it is worth it.”

The timer goes off before you can give him any more ‘homework’.

“Thank you. Seriously, I had fun. I’ll try to do what you said.” He holds out his pinks. “Promise.”

“Very American.” You laugh, linking your pinky before pulling away. “Have you got a busy schedule today?”

“About 4 hours of dancing.” He groans. “And then just recording some more adlibs for the album.”

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing.” You give him a thumbs up as he opens the door.

“You’re welcome to come and watch if you have time, the staff are always there.” He offers.

“I’ll try and come by if I can, I was sent a few interviews to translate.” You explain, your love to watch them dance but you still didn’t feel as though it was your place. You didn’t want to seem overly comfortable when you’d only gotten the job because Hoseok had personally requested it. “You shouldn’t be late.”

“Of course not.” He checks his phone before frowning. “You’re right I should go, I’ll see you later if you’re still here when I get a break.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” You wait for the door to close before relaxing on your chair with a groan, your hands instantly wrapping around your hip as though to syphon the pain away.

It took you four hours and 45 minutes to completely every single interview that had been sent to you, in hindsight you probably should have procrastinated as much as you did but you couldn’t help it.

With work out of the way your mind drifted back to the earlier phone call, it was something you should report, you knew that.

You just didn’t want to worry anyone.

“Fuck.” You hiss, rummaging through your draw, finding the painkillers you’d put in there for emergencies and taking three.

Your phone buzzed, the screen flashing up with an email notification.

You click on it, guessing it was something work related only to notice the sender being unregistered and the text box empty.

Strange.

There’s an attachment at the end of the empty text box, your stomach twisted as you opened it. The screen now displays an image of you entering the building with the words “You’re easy to find.” edited across it.

“What the fuck.” You cuss to yourself. Taking a screenshot of both the image and the email before closing the app.

If this was happening because you were working with the members then why did it feel so personal?

“You’re still here?” You looked up to find Hoseok standing in the doorway, hair and face sweaty from dance practice. “I thought you would have come to see.”

“I really wanted to.” You explain. “I just had so much work to do.”

“I understand, it’s important and you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He takes a few gulps of his water bottle. “Have you finished it all?”

“Yeah, finally.” You playfully swipe your forehead. “How was dance practice?”

He shrugs. “It was good.”

The conversation falls silent and for a few seconds you stare at each other before your phone buzzes with another notification.

Another email.

You can’t help but open it, despite how rude it may seem to be during a conversation your fingers itch to know what lies within the attachment.

It’s another image but this one had been taken days ago, one of you outside of the restaurant you had gone to with Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok.

“Hoseok?” You call out, turning your phone towards him.

He frowns as he takes the device, eyes going wide at the picture. “Is this the only one?”

“Of us? Yes.”

“And of you?” He asks, handing the phone back to you.

You contemplate lying but decide against it, you didn’t want to break the little trust you had. “I received another one earlier.”

He huffs shaking his head. “We need to take this to management, they may be able to have the email address tracked.”

“Okay let’s go.” You mumble, attempting to stand only for your leg to give out underneath you leaving you undignified as you fall to the floor.

“Shit.” Hoseok drops his water bottle as he reaches out to help you up. “Are you okay?”

“My hip.” You explain, using his body to support you. “It hurts.”

“Can I see?” He asks, resting your body against your desk.

You lift up your shirt, pushing the waistband of your pants down, a deep purple bruise scales your hip

“You have to get it checked, that looks awful.” He grabs your phone before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lean on me, I’ll take you to the company doctor.”

You internally cringe at how another day has gone so wrong. “Okay, thank you.”

“What are friends for if not human crutches?” He laughs weakly carrying you both to the doctor.

Thankfully the room is close, the doctor rushing you in to sit on the hospital style bed. You explain what happened, answering all of his questions whilst he layers heat packs against your side.

“It’s not broken but you definitely have a hip pointer.” He explained, showing you similar images from a book. “It’s when you directly impact your hip causing bruising, pain, tenderness and it may impact your walking. You shouldn’t do much physical activity for at least a week.”

“It’s not bad.” You feel lighter knowing nothing had broken and all that could help was a little bit of rest. “Thank you for seeing me so fast.”

The doctor waves you off, giving you a prescription for some antibiotics as you left the office.

“Here let me help you back to your office.” Hoseok offers, wrapping his arm around you before you could contest against it. “I’m sorry we didn’t realise you were hurt.”

“It’s my own fault really, I pushed it too hard this weekend getting everything ready to move.” You hate the idea of him blaming himself for your own actions, you were a big girl and it was your responsibility.

He practically carried you back to your office despite your protests that it would do no good for him to be injured too only for him to shush you and insist on helping. Only when you were secured back in your seat did he drop onto the small couch in the corner. “I think you’ll have to attend a recording session tomorrow, there’s some producers coming from America and Nicole isn’t here.”

“I’ll check my schedule but I'm sure it will be on there if Nicole isn’t here.” You’d briefly met the other translator, she was kind but far too busy to make daily conversation with. You could see why they needed a secondary translator. “Don’t you have to record some things?”

“Ah.” He shakes his head. “We are going to wait until tomorrow so we can see what the producers say.”

“About the picture…” You start addressing the elephant in the room. “I think we should be careful about who we tell, I don’t understand how anyone would know where we were or what I was wearing unless they had been close to the building and possibly even had access. “I know inside leaks aren’t that uncommon.”

“It’s true but after years of experience it’s always best to tell management, if you can’t walk there I can call them and they will come here?” He offers.

Despite how cramped your tiny office would be you didn’t think you’d be able to manage another trip around the building so soon after having your hip poked and prodded at. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He steps out of the room as he makes whatever phone call he needs to, returning a few seconds later. “They are coming down now.”

It’s relatively a quick affair, Sejin taking all the information from the email along with screenshots before explaining that he will take it to the HYBE security and protection team to have it investigated, finally explaining. “If you’re worried you should stay with someone else, a friend or family maybe. We ask that you don’t contact the police yet, we want to compile a full report before involving them.”

“Thank you Sejin-Ssi.” You nod respectfully in his direction as he leaves.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Hoseok jokes trying to lighten the mood. “If you’re finished for the day I can drop you home? We have been told to rest until the producers come by tomorrow.”

You soften at the offer but still can’t find it in your to accept. “Oh no it’s absolutely fine, I can just take a taxi or the bus. I doubt it’s safe for you to come to my apartment with all these pictures being taken.”

“Please? I feel awful that you’re in pain. I know how to go undetected.” He presses.

You consider it before giving in, it was daylight and he knew what he was doing. “Okay, only if you’re sure.”

“I am. Here, let me take that.” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before once again offering you his arm to lean on. “One time Jungkook hurt his foot before a concert and afterwards he felt awful so we took turns carrying him around.”

You both make your way into the elevator, your heart picking up as memories from the accident flash through your mind. “Did it help him feel better?”

“Nope. Jin Hyung dropped him.” Hoseok snorts at the horrified look on your face. “It was fine, everyone was fussing around him. We got him onto the couch and Jin Hyung ordered his favourite foods.”

“It worked out then?” You ask, grinning as the elevator grows closer to the ground floor.

“Sort of?” He questions. “When Jin Hyung went to get some extra napkins Jungkook poured hot sauce over his food.”

“So it was payback?” You ask through a laugh.

He shakes his head as he grins. “Not at all, Jin Hyung had been plating up Namjoons food.”

The realisation dawns on you. “So let me get this right, Seokjin-ssi dropped Jungkook-ah and then as an apology brought him his favourite food. Jungkook sabotages Seokjin-ssi’ food but it was actually Namjoon-ssi’ food?”

He hums as he helps you out to the artist only car park. “Yep, but Taehyung-ah stole a bite and he is terrible with spicy food. He ended up knocking over a pitcher of water all over the dish Jungkook had wanted.”

You take a moment to laugh at that, the thought of a joke turning into absolute chaos around the dinner table. “So then what happened?”

“We all gave up, half of the meal was drenched in cold water, the other half was cold.” He chuckles as he unlocks his car and helps you in.

You wait until he starts the car to ask any more. “What did you eat?”

“Yoongi Hyung had ordered pizza as he didn’t want fried chicken so we stole it.” He laughs, carefully checking the street as he turns the car. “But Hyung is good, he ordered two pizzas.”

“You’ve known each other for a long time, I'm sure he probably can tell when it’s necessary.” Na-Rae has always been the same, knowing what you need before you do.

He shrugs. “I think we are all just synched. It’s a little scary how similar yet different we are.”

“Well clearly it works.” You point to the little picture resting in the back of his phone case, one of all seven of them at an award show.

He looks at you with a smile. “I guess it does. Put your address into my phone, I don’t know where im going.”

You punch in the address, the map on his phone displaying a 20 minute car journey.

The drive passes by as it had started, filled with never ending conversation and laughter. When you finally pulled up to your apartment you frowned to yourself, you didn’t want to journey nor the conversation to end. “Thank you for dropping me home.”

“Let me help you up.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue before he is already opening your door, throwing your bag over his shower before helping you stand. “Does your building have an elevator?”

“Yeah, it's not fancy or anything though.” You explain.

You weren’t often a person who felt insecure but Hoseok was someone who had everything, whatever he owned, wore, ate, did was far more luxurious than anything you’d ever experienced. “Fancy is overrated.”

You push the broken elevator button, the machine loud as it carries you up to your floor. As soon as you step off the elevator you’re reaching for your keys, only to stop as you see your door open.

“Oh my god.” You rush over, forgetting the pain in your hip as you push it open.

You’re thankful Hoseok is there as you feel your eyes water. The apartment is wrecked, pictures of your friends and family had been smashed on the floor, the walls covered in paint and other substances you weren’t willing to touch, pillows torn open, furniture thrown across the room. Anything and everything that could be reached had been damaged.

“Come back out here.” Hoseok directs, pulling you into his arms as he dials the police.

You let yourself cry as he spoke to the operator, your heard pained with the acceptance that everything you’d worked for had been destroyed.

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deliciousangelfestival · 8 months

Text

Every Time You Lie - Ch 3 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house.

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 ,Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

‘You’re not my type.’

Lloyd gritted his teeth; he held back the anger. You used to be obedient and never disrespect him like this. Now you turned into your old self. You said the same things the first time you met him.

He brushed the back of your hair gently. His touch made you shiver and you uncomfortable. Lloyd lifted his finger to show you the ring.

“You married me, my love. You must be shocked. I understand it’s difficult for you to accept the fact. Don’t be afraid, I have hired the best doctor to treat you.”

Then he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles; his mustache tickled you. “So we could go back as we used to.”

You pulled back your hand after he said that: his gaze, actions, and everything he did scared you. You don’t understand why, but you feel helpless towards him.

Lloyd, seeing you being silent made his heart ache more than ever. He’s afraid to kiss your lips and bring you into his arms. After being married, this is the longest time he is separated from you. He doesn't want you to see him as a creepy person.

Both of you are husband and wife, for God's sake.

Everything he built has turned into a mess now. The empire he have, turned crumbled when there was no queen beside him.

“I’ll leave and come back tomorrow.” Lloyd showed a sad smile and left you.

You look at his back, he looks depressed. You want to feel sorry for him, but you can’t. Because right now, the one who needs to feel sorry for is you.

Imagine you suddenly wake up and become a wife and mother. Your body is 42 years old, but your mind is still 21 years old. You don't know who your husband and your children are. To you, three of them are just strangers.

The only people you want to see are Mia, Theo and Amelia.

Where are they? They’re not worried you got amnesia?

A lot of questions in your mind right now. You need to get out of the hospital. You hate it here.

“Urgh.” You growled with pain because when you moved your feet, it hurt so bad. You tried to press the button to call the nurse.

“Mother, what are you doing?” You turned your head and saw Emily and Lionel together.

“Umm…” You feel awkward with them. It felt like a dream you have a grown up kids standing infront of you.

“I want to walk, but it’s really painful.”

Emily immediately approached your bed, and she stopped you to make another move.

“You’re in a coma for four months. Because of the accident and lack of movement, it will hurt when you move any muscle. I will made appointment for physical therapist for your treatment.”

You looked at her and felt familiar. Her nose, her jawline, the way she speaks, and the little mole near her left eye. She looks just like you.

“Thank you.”

Emily shook her head. “Don’t say that. You shouldn’t say that. It supposed to be me who…” She stops talking since tears from her eyes start dropping to the bed sheets. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I thought…. I lost you.”

After she said that, Lionel dropped to the floor, facing down, and cried.

Seeing both of them crying at the same time made you confused. You decided to open both of your arms and said, “Come here, both of you.”

In just a second, two of them are in your arms. But it was Lionel who got all the space. He rested his head on your shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry mother. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

He keeps repeating these words. Since the accident, the guilt is eating him alive. He wished that it was him instead of you on that day.

You want to cry when you hear his voice; you stroke his head. “It’s fine. I’m alright.”

You sighed heavily, accepting the fact the moment you wake up you became a wife and a mother.

"Shit, that fucking hurt."

"I never heard her curse in my life." Lionel whispered to his sister. He and Emily are watching you exercising your leg with parallel bars. You tried to regain your strength and balance.

Emily patted her brother's shoulder. "Anyone who just escaped death will have their personality to changed.”

Lionel saw you slipped away from the parallel bars. He moves fast to catch you. But you slapped his hand. You felt you hurt this boy's feelings. You apologize to him "Sorry, I'm still not used with this."

Lionel made a small nod and backed away. What you mean by 'with this' is you still can't accept the moment you wake up, and you become 40 years old without any memories.

He looked at Emily again, wanting to cry. All of this happened because of him. He decided to walk away and get some fresh air.

Emily saw her brother leave the room. She felt bad seeing him depressed, but he needed to learn the consequences of his mistakes. It wasn’t his fault the car hit you. But if he didn’t insist to grab that damn shoes, none of this would’ve happened.

It hurts her when she hears you have amnesia.

The way you look at her is also different. But Emily thinks it's a good thing. Because you became someone else. You seem confident and brave even though you still can't accept reality. She never sees this side of you.

Before, you used to say yes to everything Lloyd said. You're an obedient wife.

You're the best mother she ever knew, and she is grateful for that.

But how Lloyd, Krystal, and Lionel treated you is unfair.

The life she had found out to be a lie. Emily used to see Lloyd as an awesome, strong, smart, and successful father. And he loves you so much. But after she grew older, she realized that what happened between both of you was not love.

It’s obsession and stubbornness.

And her grandmother, Krystal. Emily never being close to her. She always heard her friends' stories about how their grandmother was so nice, always giving them allowance food and staying with them.

With Krystal, she doesn't have anything like that. There’s no such thing as a connection with her own grandmother. Even with all her high grades, trophies, and certificates, she never heard any compliment from Krystal.

Lloyd and Krystal used you to get what they wanted, and they did. But they have to pay a price. That's the biggest secret in this family.

That's why she left. She felt ashamed of the horrible lie she had known for the rest of her life.

Lionel is almost the same as them, but Emily hopes he will change for good because of this accident.

‘Bzzt.’

Emily grabbed her phone and saw the name was Dr. Gabriel. He’s a senior doctor who is also in charge of you. “Good afternoon doctor.”

“Come to my office. There’s an annoying patient at my office right now. Could you check on him? I’m still giving class at the moment.”

Emily widened her eyes, she had never heard Dr.Gabriel sound annoyed and disrespectful towards any patients. He always being professional. She became curious about who the patient was.

She turned off the phone and approached you. “Mom, I need to go. Don’t trained to hard.”

You nodded at her. “Yes. Don’t worry.” In your eyes, she’s a great kid. You’re grateful for having a smart and kind daughter.

After Emily left, the therapist asked, “Do you want to rest?”

You shook your head and wiped the sweat from your head and hands. “Continue.”

Even though it’s painful and you hold it in. It’s nothing compared with the feeling of knowing your father had died and you don’t have any memory of it.

The doctor told you to have a bed rest for a few days before practicing to walk again. But you said no because you want to leave the hospital as soon as possible to see your father's grave tomb with your own eyes.

You want answers.

Emily walks faster to Dr. Gabriel's office room. When she arrived, the nurse immediately gave the patient record to her. She opened the door, and a man was already sitting on Dr. Gabriel's chair, facing the window.

Since he’s a senior doctor, his space is bigger than anyone. Most of his patients are also rich and famous.

No wonder Dr.Gabriel sounded annoyed at the phone. This patient already makes this room like his own. She could feel the arrogance from afar. Seems like the patient noticed someone walking into the room. He turned his chair. “You’re late.”

The patient was taken aback for a moment because he had mistaken someone.

Emily cleared her throat. “Dr. Gabriel still giving a lecture righ now. He send me instead. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Drysdale?”

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Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 ,Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

#chris evans characters #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x fic #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen imagine #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen #the grey man au #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom

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wardenparker · 1 year

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Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 2

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 20.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Canon typical violence, flirting, Jack can dance and I will die on this hill. Summary: Your introduction to the world of Statesman comes with a flirtation, a job interview, a pool game, and an unexpected turn to the night after an unexpected day. Notes: I’m not even mad about how long this chapter is. I *loved* introducing this reader to Statesman and I hope you guys do, too!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Three hours later to the minute, you're standing on the tarmac at Portsmouth International Airport with a backpack slung over one shoulder as you follow a flight attendant in a crisp Statesman uniform up to the stairs to board the jet bearing the company's logo in giant letters splashed across the side. It's really real. It's actually, really real. A discreet picture on your phone will be very quickly texted to your mom before the plane takes off, but for now you're listening to the attendant tell you that the flight will last two and a half hours and that anything you need will be provided on board. There's a man in a Stetson standing just inside the door of the plane as you walk up, and you have to hand it to these folks. They have truly committed to the cowboy aesthetic.

“Howdy ma’am.” Champ didn’t tell him who he was picking up when he called Tequila to his office and told him that he was being sent with the jet to pick someone up. He didn’t rightly think it was his business; but he has to admit that you’re cute. He smirks slightly as he tips his hat with two fingers and motions you towards the captain's chairs. “Want a drink before takeoff?”

"Just a bottle of water would be great." As much as a finger or two of whiskey would calm the hell out of your nerves right now, you don't know if drinking during what is technically one long-ass job interview would be considered very professional. You look around as the flight attendant whisks your backpack away, setting it on the end of a small sofa that serves as seating on the jet. "This plane is absolutely amazing..."

“Aw, come on now.” Tequila steps behind the bar and grabs the bottle of water to set on the shiny surface. “You can’t tell me you don’t drink? You’ll break my heart.”

You laugh, appreciating the man's jovial attitude and willing to admit to yourself that he's very attractive. Not your usual type, but there's nothing wrong with being leading-man attractive. You just normally go for more unique looking men - and older. "Experience tells me that drinking during a job interview is bad manners," you admit, taking a step further into the room. This plane has rooms. "But I've never interviewed for a distillery before, so maybe the rules are actually the opposite now."

“Drinking’s a job requirement.” He flirts, sending you a small wink and reaching for the bottle of ‘82 Special Selection. “Champ’ll have you with a glass in your hand by the time you get done shakin’.”

"Just a little, then." It doesn't matter that your tolerance is hellishly high, you're not aiming to get drunk at all during this trip. "So your boss...Champ? He, uh...he doesn't do things by half, does he?" You're curious about the man after finding next to nothing about him online. Even finding a photograph was like pulling teeth.

“No one at Statesman does.” Tequila grins proudly as he picks up the bottle and uncorks it to start pouring into the awaiting glasses. “So why are you coming to Kentucky?” He’s curious and as an intelligence agent, he’s never one to not ask questions.

“It’s…an interview?” You look up at the man in confusion and laugh, purely out of nerves. “Did your boss not tell you who you were picking up, or why?”

“Champ says go, you go.” You don’t scream ‘new agent’, but he’s been wrong before. “What’ll you be doin’, if I can ask?”

“I’m a pastry chef.” One hand curls itself around the glass he has poured for you, feeling the steadiness of the weight of cut crystal in your hand. “Mr. Rogers wants to expand the food that the distillery is able to offer to guests who take tours and come to events. So…he called me.” Which still seems sort of batshit insane, but you are good at what you do, and you love it. You’re even a good savory chef - but pastry really has been your passion.

"Pastry....like cakes and pies?" Tequila asks, tilting his head as he thinks about it. You nod, giving him a vaguely amused smile that he notices a lot on people around him and he purses his lips, nodding in agreement. "I like it. Although you're gonna be haunted by the ones with sugar addictions." He warns, thinking about Jack's hidden sweet tooth. Man likes to claim that his ever so softening belly is the result of his bad back, but the drawer in his desk that is devoted to candy would prove that is a lie.

“Well, I hope so.” It earns him a bright, genuine laugh with a smile. “Otherwise there would be no point in hiring an executive pastry chef for the distillery at all.” Feeling slightly more relaxed, you take a small sip of whiskey and hum at the gentle burn. The notes of vanilla and smoke in this particular vintage would make an amazing boozy caramel for that chocolate tart you’ve been doing at the restaurant. “Everyone has a favourite sweet. Something tied to good memories or a favorite person. Sometimes it’s a thing you had once and maybe never again, but you’ll just love it forever from that one taste. Sweets are kind of magical like that.”

"I guess." Tequila gives a small shrug, shooting you a grin. "I'm more of a red hots kind of guy myself. I like the heat." He's not overly fond of sweets, but he can enjoy a dessert every now and again. It's more like he would haunt your kitchens for you rather than your cakes.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had Mexican hot chocolate or a spicy sweet candied anything?” When the cowboy looks at you in wonder and shakes his head, you laugh again. Not to laugh at him, just because getting people to try new things is one of the best parts of what you do. “I tell you what. If I get this job, I’ll road-test a batch of my guajillo and cinnamon fudge brownies for the menu. They’ll knock your socks off.”

"If you say so." Tequila looks skeptical but gives a shrug. He's always willing to try anything once. "So you are willing to move to Kentucky to make cakes at a distillery?" He asks, trying to get a feel for you. He's cocky as an agent, but when he doesn't know the woman's background, he can be a bit shy.

“What’s life without adventure, right?” You shrug and take another sip of the drink you’ve been poured. Statesman really is quality liquor, you have to admit that. “It’s a great position and comes with a lot of freedom. Not everybody gets to develop their own menu and recipes at a facility like yours.”

Tequila chuckles, lifting his own glass up and silently toasting you before he takes a sip. "Thank God for freedom, right?" He is meaning his freedoms on a mission, but you don't know that. He wonders if you will be clued in on the real function of Statesman, or if you will just be another front for the intelligence agency.

“Absolutely.” It hits bittersweet, though, this time. Freedom in a general sense is great. But three days ago you were in the walk-in at work and dropped every single thing in your arms when a searing, unintelligible pain took over your entire body. Thinking it was a weird muscle spasm or an allergic reaction to the new body wash you were trying out, you ignored it until the end of the day. Of course, at the end of the day, you stood in your bedroom mirror and realized there was no rash. No reaction. The mountain range tattoo over your heart had disappeared along with the chef’s knife that had adorned the inside of your forearm, and all the scars from cuts and burns that had told you your soulmate had to be a chef were gone. Your brother had tried to be comforting. Told you that you were free now to love whoever you wanted. But that wasn’t the kind of freedom you had ever wanted.

He wonders about the sudden look of melancholy that washes over your face but he doesn't want to pry. You aren't a target and he wants to make sure that you are comfortable around him if you take this job. Something tells him that you will, but he's been wrong before. Hell, he thought Jack would have crawled out of a bottle by now, but when he had left, the man was still drunk from the night before.

The captain’s voice comes over the intercom, asking all passengers and crew to take their seats for take off, and the overly tall cowboy nods in response before leading you to your seat. “So what do you do at Statesman?” You ask, once you’re buckled in and he is sitting beside you. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Security.” He sits down and untucks his jacket from around his back with a small wink towards you. It’s the go-to cover position within the distillery workforce. At least where the civilians are concerned.

“And is this your uniform?” He makes it work, you’ll give him that. But you kind of want to prepare yourself for whatever you’re about to walk into. If you’re going to be wearing a cowgirl hat instead of a toque, you want to know ahead of time.

"Uniform?" He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. "No ma'am, we dress for comfort at Statesman." He tells you, although everyone had their own sense of business style, Tequila was still more comfortable in ranch hand attire than anything. Jack was on the one to wear fancy threads.

“Just curious,” you tell him honestly, adding a nonchalant shrug because you’re a little awkward about everything. “It seems like Statesman has its own culture about it, and I like that. Places I’ve worked before haven’t felt like a community at all.”

"You won't feel like that here." Tequila promises. "We're proud of what we do and it shows." Of course, there is a lot to that statement that you don't know how true it is but even the front of the distillery was worked with pride. He honestly felt like it was the best damn bourbon mash in all of Kentucky.

“We’ll see how the interview goes.” There’s no way you’re going to count your chicken before they hatch, but this job just sounds like an absolute dream.

Tequila snorts and listens to the engines power up before the large jet starts to roll down the runway. "Everyone who's ever worked for Statesman has probably said some version of that statement." He tells you, lifting a brow playfully. "And never left."

******

The flight seems short with such good company, and the man who cringes at his own name - Tex - brings you from the airstrip to the main building to actually meet Champ when you land. It’s been a mere six hours since that phone call this morning, but it feels days away. The Statesman campus is stunning. Everywhere you look are excited tourists and seemingly happy employees. Most wear some kind of western-influenced style but not everyone, although you do notice that everyone who does wear the cowboy look has beautiful quality boots and Stetsons. If what they’re offering to pay you is any indication, everybody here can definitely afford high quality pieces. There is a decent-sized cafeteria buzzing with eager patrons eating classic Southern favourites, and then there is the brand-new empty restaurant space where Tex introduces you to an older man in worn but well-cared-for western wear of his own, and you’re instantly certain that this is Champ.

Champ gives you an affable grin as he reaches out and takes your hand in his. "Richard 'Champagne' Rogers." He tells you by way of introduction. "But call me Champ." He looks away from you and towards Tequila. "I see that Tex has gotten you here without any emergencies." He nods towards the agent and then looks back you. "How was the flight?"

“Very comfortable, thank you.” He has a patriarchal vibe that leans more toward grandfather than anything else, and you feel yourself relax a little. Your own grandfather would probably fit right in here. Right alongside Champ Rogers. “The campus here is gorgeous. I’m excited to see the facilities you talked about this morning.”

"It's in the back here." Champ gestures towards an area that has been cordoned off and still has the air of being in the final stages of being remodeled. "We were going to do some kinda fancy steakhouse, but folks don't want another one of those." He explains.

“So you’re leaning in the direction of Southern tea house instead?” Following him into the kitchen, it’s easy to see the makings of a world-class set up here. Glistening appliances and brand-new surfaces wink in the bright light and the door to the walk-in is so new it still has film on the window. It’s just the dining room that has no personality yet.

"I want a place where people can come in and relax." Champ tells you. "Indulge and pair new things with old whiskey."

“New twists on old classics?” It’s something that is gaining a lot of traction these days, and you nod your head in agreement. “My style is a combination of things. French technique and American classics, with some British influence to polish it all off. And I can do savory as well as pastry.” If this whole place is going to be a functioning tea room of sorts, you don’t want him to make any mistake about your abilities. “Are you planning on hiring an executive savory chef as well?”

Champ frowns for a moment and shakes his head. "Naw...what's that sayin'? 'Two women in a kitchen's bad business'. You can head the whole thing."

If you had been holding anything, it would have gone clattering to the ground. Your own restaurant. This company is offering you your own goddamn restaurant. The second you start to process it you feel giddy and anxious - like you could actually fly from the butterflies in your belly. “Then I hope you like what I do,” you tell him with what you hope is a carefree laugh. “One more question, if I could? Before I get to work, I mean.”

Champ raises a brow at you and chuckles. "Shoot, girl, straight from the hip." He tells you. He likes the look of you and he can see why you would be Jack's new soulmate.

“I suppose it’s sort of a multi-part question,” you admit, hoping that doesn’t make you sound inexperienced or unprepared. “I’m wondering if this restaurant will be just for tourists and guests, or if it will also be a facility for your employees? And also what kind of events you anticipate being able to host here with the event space having access to a specialized restaurant.” Frankly, to you, it screams parties and weddings - but who knows what they’re expecting to be able to do?

"Isn't that up to you?" Champ asks, looping his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looking around the place again. He shoulda known Jack Daniels soulmate had a keen business sense and a good head on her shoulders. He woulda said the same about Jack until recently. "I mean, it'd be your rodeo, wouldn't you call the shots?"

It’s simultaneously terrifying, inspiring, and nerve-wracking to get that kind of answer, but you end up stifling a grin when Tex flashes you two thumbs up behind his boss’s back for encouragement. “You’d make a hell of a profit from weddings,” you tell Champ honestly, although that’s not why you like the idea of doing them. “Weddings, private events, corporate parties, live music events. From large scale down to small scale, they all run on the same principle. A restaurant staff can handle the catering demands, and we can work with other vendors and event planners to make sure the details are right. I’ve done it at my last two jobs with excellent results.” It’s a goddamn dream come true, that’s what Statesman is. You just have to work your ass off to make sure Champ likes your food.

Champ purses his lips and looks around like he's contemplating it. It all actuality, it would be whatever would make you stay here. As a senior agent, Jack's worth the investment of a business that might actually expand the Statesman brand. And if it keeps his soulmate on the grounds and protected, well that was just fine. "If you want to take that on, I don't see why we couldn't do it. Have the boys in bottling provide a special bottle for the occasions." He offers, knowing that an etched bottle of whiskey would be a perfect wedding thing. "If you don't, you could just have the little dining room."

“Provided you like my food, I would say the most pragmatic path would be to open the restaurant and start with small events first. Expand to weddings afterward.” It’s a big, demanding industry, but you already know you make a killer wedding cake and can manage the menus. It’s pretty literally your dream being laid out on the table here for you to prove that you deserve. “The menu I put together for the tasting can be done in just a few hours. I only need you to tell me how many I’m expected to feed and then I’ll get started.”

Reaching up, Champ rubs his jaw with his hand and hides a small smirk. "Oh I think enough for five or six should be enough." He tells you. "Yourself included."

“Very doable.” That’s just one batch of everything, and you can definitely pull that off without a problem. “Give me two hours, and come back hungry.”

"I'll send someone by in case you need something." Champ decides that he's going to give you space. He needs to fish your soulmate out of his bottle and sober him up a little before he meets you for the first time.

“Fantastic.” Two hours will be a hustle, but you know you can do it. There’s too much at stake here and too much potential on the horizon not to. Whoever this head hunter was that passed your resume on to Champ? You could kiss that person.

******

"Jack." Grunting, Jack tries to ignore the sound of his name being called. He hasn't slept, hasn't done much but drink and for the first time since that awful day Champ desked him, his eyes are closed on their own.

“Jack.” Champ growls his name on the fourth try, and when the best he gets from the noncommittal agent sprawled out on his own living room couch after living at the bottom of a bottle for two solid days is nothing - he holds up the pitcher of water he poured in the kitchen and unceremoniously dumps it directly on Jack’s head and chest.

"SHIT!" Jack sputters, coming up off the sofa in a shock of cold water like he's been hit with a defibrillator. Reaching for guns in holsters that aren't there. "What the — what the fuck?" He demands when he realizes that it's Champ and he slumps back against the now soaked sofa. "Go away."

“Get up.” Tossing him a towel from his other hand, Champ ignores Jack’s order completely. “You got someplace to be in…” he checks his watch. “An hour and thirty-one minutes.”

“Imma off d-desk duty already?” Jack asks, bewildered and he throws his hand over his eyes and groans in pain.

“No.” It would be funny if it weren’t troubling, and Champ shakes his head. “You’re gonna eat something. You, me, Tequila, Ginger, and Diana.” It’s as good a crew to taste test food as any, not to mention they’re generally Champ’s favourite people. His own soulmate is working just the same as any other afternoon, but he doesn’t think she’ll mind being stolen away for a surprise dinner. Diana Rogers is always a fan of surprises, so Champ makes sure to keep them locked and loaded for her at all times.

Disappointment rolls through Jack along with a wave of nausea. He’s not as young as he used to be and he’s gone through a least three bottles. “Not hungry.” He huffs, turning away from Champ and making to lay back down. “Another time.”

“That’s not an option, friend.” Producing a cup of coffee seemingly out of nowhere, Champ holds it out to Jack and hooks the thumb of his free hand into his belt. “I need you showered and lookin’ presentable. And reasonably sober if fuckin possible, so I’ll have Ginger bring you something to help with that if you can’t manage it yourself.”

“Shit.” It feels like a million little hammers from Satan’s army is pounding away inside his head, but Jack sits up slowly and belches. Groaning when the sloshing in his stomach feels like he’s at sea in a dingy during a hurricane. “Yeah.”

“Fine.” The older man nods and offers the coffee again, glad when Jack finally takes it and at least sniffs the brew. “You got clean clothes, or did you ransack your own house along with your desk?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Jack grunts at him, not quite making sense. “Why are you in my house?”

“You never shoulda given me a key,” Champ jokes, allowing himself to find a little humor in the moment.

“Remind me to get it back.” Jack scowls and takes a sip of the coffee, hissing when it burns his tongue.

“Now is that any way to talk to a man who’s feeding you dinner?” It doesn’t really have much to do with him and he knows it, but Champ is still going to tease his friend now that Jack is on the other side of the bottle.

“It is when you’re dragging me somewhere I don’t want to go to eat food I don’t think I can stomach.” Jack grouses, throwing Champ a halfhearted glare.

“You’ll manage.” He hadn’t wanted to use this as leverage, but it seems he’s going to have to. “She’s here, Jack.”

Jack blinks for a moment, the alcohol in his blood making him a little slower than normal and then he huffs. “Fuck, Champ, is that why you want me to have some dinner?” He demands.

“Yeah, that’s why.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at Jack, studiously ignoring the indignant tone in his friend’s voice. “She’s cookin’ it, so you’re eatin’.”

There is a staring contest that last for about a minute before Jack sighs. “Shit.” He sets the coffee down and manages to stand, swaying slightly. “Let me shower.”

“She doesn’t know.” Champ tells him, putting out a hand to steady Jack a little before he heads to the stairs. “And it ain’t my place to tell her.”

“Well that’s something.” Jack mumbles, suddenly even less inclined to attend than before. “And nobody else better run their damned mouths.”

“Only you, me, and Diana know.” He has taken his concern for Jack home to his wife, knowing that the younger man wouldn’t judge him or be upset over it. “She’s here to interview for a job.”

“Jesus, Champ.” Jack jerks to a stop and even though he regrets it, his head whips back to look at him. “An interview? Whadya gonna do? Make her an agent?”

Champ huffs, hot air escaping his nostrils and making him feel like a goddamn bull on the charge. “Make yourself presentable,” he rumbles. “I’ll send Ginger to pick you up.” Without another word, Champ rocks back on his heel, pulls Jack’s spare house key out of his pocket, and drops it on his coffee table on his way out the door. If he’s gonna be an ass, he can be one on his own.

Jack blows out a sigh, feeling like an asshole now that the door slams behind Champ. He was out of line and regrets the look of disappointment that he saw in his friend’s eyes. Shuffling to the bathroom, Jack strips and looks in the mirror, disgusted with the reflection he sees.

******

Given what you set out to do, it's a testament to hard work and a small miracle that you have everything done in time. The very last thing to come out of the oven will be the soufflés, and those are scheduled to be done as the first course as soon as Champ returns with his four person entourage in less than two minutes. If there is any mercy in the world they might even come early and be witness to the tray coming out of the oven, because that would be an incredible flex. Everything has been carefully plated and arranged, and you've probably sweated out three pounds of water weight from all the running around you've done in this kitchen, but every single piece of equipment here is pristine and glorious. If you don't get this job you'll be more disappointed than you've ever been to miss out on anything, but at least you'll have gotten to cook in this amazing kitchen once.

Jack is as nervous as a foaling mare around people. He has shaven his cheeks bare and slapped aftershave on until it stung. Combed his hair and put on clothes that are clean and fresh. He feels like he should be confident, but he’s not. His stomach is rolling and it’s not from the alcohol. He had thrown that up in the shower. He’s nervous to meet this woman, this soulmate.

"Look who's up and about." Tequila gives Jack his most encouraging smile as he spots his friend walking up the path with Ginger at his side. "Champ invite y'all to join us for this thing?"

“More like ordered.” Jack mutters under his breath, but he gives a halfhearted shrug. “Guess he figured I needed some fresh air.”

"And he cleaned up all nice for us." Ginger jokes, trying to lighten the mood as best she can. She knows Jack has been inside his own shell for a few days, and why, but she knows that getting him out of the house is the best thing that Champ could have done.

He’s still slightly queasy, but it’s because of who he’s about to meet since Ginger had given him one of her magic hangover pills. “Yeah, yeah.”

"Good." Champ's voice booms over the distillery courtyard from the other direction as he skirts a tour group with his arm around his wife. "Everybody made it on time. Let's get in there and find out what we're eating, huh?" Satisfied to see Jack dressed and upright, Champ heads straight for the side door to the building that will let them directly into the remodeled kitchen.

Jack frowns and wonders why the hell they are eating in the kitchen but he follows suit, dropping back to walk beside Tequila. “How’d you get roped into this?” He asks the younger man.

"Volunteered." Tequila tells him cheerfully. The truth is that he would have begged to come to this thing after hearing you talk about your food on the jet, but Champ had obliged him easily. "Never gonna turn down a good meal, you know me."

Jack huffs at that truth. “You do think with your stomach.” He jokes, reaching over and slapping him on the shoulder. “Have you met her?” He asks.

"Picked her up this morning." There's a flash of something like being pleased on his face but he shrugs it off. He's made sure that he's cleaned up and even better looking - in his opinion - than he had been this morning. Just in case those flashes of smiles and laughter he'd gotten on the flight were for the same reason his were.

Jack’s eyes narrow slightly at the tone and stature of the man beside him. There’s something in his voice that has him on edge but he can’t put his finger on it. “From where?”

"New Hampshire." Tequila's strides are just a tad longer than Jack's or Ginger's and he has to keep himself walking slower to be in step with Jack as Champ pulls open the door. "Flew her down on the jet. Champ's orders." The younger man still didn't really understand why a chef needed a security detail, but he was glad to oblige anyway.

It registers that Tequila doesn’t know. Champ had told him that he hadn’t said anything to you, but he had thought the agent had been brought into the loop. Jack relaxes slightly, his shoulders pulling down and he wonders if it’s a mistake. If you were meant to be Tequila’s soulmate and it would all be cleared up by the universe or fate or whoever was in fucking charge of all of this.

"Well damn," Champ chuckles jovially as the party files into the kitchen just in time to see you taking one last pan out of the oven on the wall. "Smells incredible in here. Looks like we made perfect time, didn't we darlin'?" You whirl around at the sound of the now-familiar drawl, prepared to answer the old-fashioned term until you realize that Champ has a woman on his arm when he walks into the room. She's about his age, bright-eyed and beaming up at him as she smiles, and your heart wrenches a little. No doubt this is Mrs. Rogers - most likely his soulmate - and the pang of knowing you no longer have a soulmate of your own sticks in your gut harder than you would ever admit. "Welcome back." You force yourself to smile and focus on the matter at hand, wondering who else the elder cowboy has wrangled for your little audition tonight.

Jack hangs back for a moment, almost unwilling to look towards the voice that sends a shiver down his spine. His mouth is dry and he rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. He doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s afraid.

“I’m set and ready to go, if everyone would like to take a seat?” You had taken the liberty of pulling six stools up to the end of one counter and setting out glasses of water right before you took the soufflés out of the oven, creating a small tasting table for everyone to sit at. “The first course is best served hot.”

There’s a moment where Jack just stands there. Unsure of himself and what exactly to do. His eyes looking from the table to the chairs and everywhere else until he finally looks up and sees you.

The small stack of plates in your hands hits the steel counter a little harder than you mean for them to when you glance up and meet the eyes of the last person to come through the door. He’s broad and lean, clean shaven except for an immaculate mustache and looking at you from under the brim of his crisp Stetson and your mouth runs dry almost instantly. As quickly as your eyes meet his you look away again, feeling your cheeks heat and the last thing you need is to be flustered while you’re trying to get through this thing. Just focus, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the plates to put each course on.

He feels like he’s been hit by a truck when his eyes meet yours. He hates it. Hates how his heart speeds up and his cheeks flush. Unable to shake it off as if it didn’t matter. The knowledge that you are his soulmate is weighing on him. He sees Champ shuffle, catching his eye and it makes him realize he had been staring. “What’s for dinner, darlin’?” He drawls out, as he would if it were any pretty woman.

"First course is a sweet potato soufflé with a blue cheese cream sauce." Carefully spooning the sauce over each soufflé and setting them down at the six places that you've set, you look around at the group and try very hard not to stare at this man you haven't met yet. "The play of natural sweetness with rich and complex cheese sauce makes for a dish that stands alone or compliments almost any protein."

Jack isn’t a fan of blue cheese and almost opens his mouth to say so, but there is something tantalizing about the smell. “Well shiiiiiiit.” Tequila speaks up before Jack can say anything. “That sounds disgusting but it smells like heaven.”

"I know blue cheese can be an acquired taste." More comfortable with the youngest of the men purely from having spent the most time with him, you shrug a little and chuckle softly. "But bold flavours are memorable flavours, and I believe in food being an important part of building positive memories." This meal is your sales pitch - selling yourself and your abilities to this company - and goddamnit a soufflé is just about one of the most technically difficult things to do perfectly. Which is exactly why you did it.

“Well I’m gonna dig in.” Tequila promises with a wink as he pulls a chair out to sit down. “Come on, Jack. You need to eat too.”

Jack. You do your best not to react with anything but pleasantness, and feel your shoulders relax as multiple sounds of enjoyment break out when people take their first bites. What starts out with hesitation from almost everyone turns into surprise and delight, and you have to admit that - if your portion is any indication - this is probably one of the best soufflés that you've made in an extremely long time.

There is something magical about the texture of this thing that he is eating. It’s creamy and sweet and savory. All of the flavors should clash but somehow they compliment one another and bring out the sharpness of the cheese and the sweetness of the yam. Jack groans after the first bite - surprised that it is not making his stomach do anything but demand more - and quickly goes in for a second bite.

“I think that’s a ‘yes’ from everybody, darlin’,” Champ chuckles, glad to see Jack acting like a human instead of a man-shaped bottle of liquor like earlier. Even if he’s not thrilled with his friend at the moment, it’s still good to see.

“It’s incredible,” his wife sighs, and she offers you a beaming smile. “I’d eat one of these every day for the rest of my life in whatever flavour you felt like.”

“Well, thank you very much, ma’am.” Even if she introduced herself as Diana on the way in, she’s still the spouse of the man making the decision about hiring you, so you’re going to be polite as hell. “They’re a particular favourite of mine, as well. I’m so glad you like it.”

Jack hates that he files that piece of information away, like he is memorizing your likes and dislikes. What does it matter? Your marks might be on his body but you aren’t his soulmate. His soulmate was Abigail Monique Daniels. Born April 24th 1976 and died August 12th, 1998. Instead of saying anything, he concentrates on his food, eating it faster than he anticipated, and slumps slightly when he’s done with the incredible soufflé.

When everyone has had what they like of the small first course, you collect the plates and deposit them in the sink before retrieving a set of six square plates from the fridge. Each has two petite sandwiches on them, and you set them in front of your panel of judges - for lack of a better term - with as much confidence as you can muster. “Our second course is dilled crawfish tea sandwiches. A distinctly Southern twist on a classic.”

“God, crawfish.” Jack groans, rolling his eyes and nearly drooling. It’s been awhile since he’s had the little mud bugs and he’s always enjoyed dishes with them in it. “This is— fuck—” He bites into the sandwich and his eyes widen in pleasure before they drift shut as he chews.

"I hate to agree with Jack," Ginger jokes, making everyone else at the table laugh. "But these really are excellent." Murmurs run through the group, but the buzz running through you is from Jack's very verbal reaction. Watching cowboys fluster and groan over little tea sandwiches is some kind of pleasure you never really expected, but it's gratifying in a very entertaining way. It's not, you tell yourself, that you find Jack incredibly attractive. Of course not. It's that this tasting is going so well. Yup. That's all it is.

“You’re gonna hafta make more of those.” Jack predicts, speaking to you for the first time. “Two ain’t gonna cut it once they taste ‘em.”

"They'll go straight on the menu, then." You may have been pushing the confidence a little bit until now, but this has you smiling immediately. This is going to work, you tell yourself, and ignore the little extra boost you get from someone you're attracted to liking your food.

“Damn.” Jack sits back when the sandwiches are gone, disappointed when everyone else is eating theirs, “I’d make a meal off of them.”

"Maybe sometime soon, you'll be able to." It's a hope, not anything cocky or pointed, and you don't even hear how it could be considered flirting as you take the second sandwich off of your own plate and place it on his when you get up to plate the next course.

He shouldn’t accept it, it’s part of your dinner, but he picks it up and nods towards you before he pops the sandwich in his mouth with a groan. The soufflé was good, but sandwiches like those are his weakness. Champ chuckles, leaning back on his hair with his arm around Diana. “Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, ain’t it Jack?” He teases, making Jack glare at him.

"Sure is to mine." Tequila pipes up, oblivious to any underlying meaning in Champ's comment. "What's next on the menu, darlin'?"

"The last two courses are sweet." The plating for this has to be done right before serving because of the various textures at play, and you bring the completed plates over two at a time to take away the sandwich plates as you set down the next. "Buttermilk biscuits with strawberries macerated in honey, balsamic vinegar, and cracked black peppercorn. Topped with bourbon vanilla whipped cream." There was no way you were going to do this tasting and not make biscuits. As a staple of Southern cuisine, the quality of a restaurant's biscuits can make or break their entire menu.

“Bourbon whipped cream.” Champ grunts, looking impressed at the mention of a boozy addition to the meal. “It sounds good. Real good. Mighty glad we found you. We wouldn’t be eatin’ so well tonight.” He tells you lightly, looking over at where Jack is sitting.

“This is amazing.” The woman who introduced herself as Astrid hums in delight. "I never would have thought all these flavours could go together, but it's heaven." She grins at Champ before flashing you the same expression. "I might want this instead of birthday cake this year."

“Probably have something even better for birthdays.” Champ nods towards you. “She’s a baker. All things sweet.” That gets Jack’s attention, his love of sweets making him really interested in that.

"So far I haven't met a cake that got the best of me." It's not bragging, you decide, but selling yourself. This is still a job interview and a taste test, and these people need to know that you can rise to any occasion that might land in your lap. "What do each of you usually like to celebrate with?"

“Oh, red velvet.” Diana moans happily, leaning into Champ’s side. “It was our wedding cake, even though it was scandalous at the time.”

Champ chuckles and leans over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Always give my girl what she wants.” He jokes, winking at Ginger.

"Chocolate." Tequila's grin is impetuous, like the little boy who continuously got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Carrot cake, usually." Ginger smiles happily as she polishes off the last bite of her biscuit and its fruit sauce. "But I was dead serious about wanting this instead. That might be the best biscuit I've ever had."

"Well geez." You clear your throat, flustered at that level of compliment, while you file away the different kinds of cakes these folks might like to see pop up on a restaurant menu. "Th-thank you. Very much. That's an amazing compliment."

Jack squirms slightly in his chair. He doesn’t celebrate his birthday. It’s too painful. It’s a day he wants to forget exists. He hopes you don’t ask him about it.

“What about you two?” It’s like a horrific moment from some farcical comedy when you turn your bright smile on him and Champ. “No birthday favourites?”

Champ throws Jack a look and clears his throat. “I normally have red velvet, for the missus.” He tells you with a grin. “And Jack isn’t one for birthdays.”

“No?” This plate is a little larger, so there is more time to linger and talk. “That’s a shame.” But it also smacks of bad memories, so you just lend the man a sympathetic smile and try to ignore the twist in your gut that wonders if he lost his soulmate, too. “Well, I hope they start to be fun for you again sometime soon.”

Jack can’t offer more than a half hearted smile, doubting that very seriously but it’s nice that you care. Or at least make the appropriate noises. “Don’t think that’s gonna happen.” Tequila huffs awkwardly, giving a nervous chuckle.

Sensing the topic might be better left alone, you shut your mouth tight and stand from the table to collect empty plates. The last course is your ringer — your family’s favourite cake that gets made several times a year depending on who requests it for what occasion. Each small, star-shaped plate bears one large cupcake, decorated simply and beautifully. “The last course is coconut cupcakes with whiskey cream cheese frosting, using Statesman ‘82 Special Selection,” you explain as the last plate goes down. “I hadn’t tried it before, but Tex poured it for us on the flight here and the smoky vanilla notes are perfect for this application. Please, enjoy.”

Jack isn’t a coconut person. Never really cared for it, but his eyes close as he has a religious experience with a fucking cupcake. Groaning as he lets the flavors burst on his tongue and slowly chews.

Champ smirks, eyes crinkled in amused approval as he watches Jack fall in love with a goddamn cupcake. It’s damn good. He won’t deny that. But seeing Jack react this way when he knows his friend’s general aversion to the fruit is proof enough for him that even if you weren’t his soulmate, you’d still be the right person to hire for this job.

“I don’t even like coconut and I’d eat a hundred of ‘em.” Jack groans as he finishes up his cupcake and looks around the table at everyone else to get their input.

"How many times have you gotten men to propose marriage with this cake, honey?" Diana jokes, swiping up a missed blob of frosting with her finger so nothing is wasted. You laugh, an actual real, deep belly laugh, and shrug innocently. "Family legend says that it's how my Grandma Jane got her beau to propose," you admit. "My grandfather always said he was going to ask anyway, but we all think it was the cake." The family recipe is one of great important and great popularity, and clearly with good reason.

Jack shuffles in his seat, another damn fact to learn around you and he knows he won’t forget it. Damn mind is trained to remember facts and his brain seems to think that learning about you is a good thing.

"Your granddaddy'd be off his rocker not to ask after a taste of that." Tequila declares, leaving a completely clean plate in front of him. He's got a warmth in his chest and a pride in his smirk at having influenced something you made tonight, even if it's only by accident, and he swears to God that if Champ doesn't offer you whatever this job is, he'll hop back on that jet to New Hampshire himself to hear that laugh of yours again. "Dontcha think, Champ?"

Champ raises a brow at the obviously smitten cowboy and sneaks a glance at Jack who is studiously ignoring the entire conversation and drinking water like a dying fish. “Have to agree.” He chuckles, amused by the development and wonders how this little love triangle will play out.

"Well," you sit back on your stool, looking between the smiling, seemingly satisfied faces and feel your heart stick in your throat. You've done all you can do. If they like your food this much to your face but decide not to give you the job, then at least you put your best foot forward. "Thank you for your consideration. I'll clean up here and find my way to the address I was given to stay at tonight while you make your decision." The staffer, in her polo shirt and khakis, that had come by an hour into your cooking time had dropped off an address allegedly on the Statesman campus that would be yours for the night, but you didn't know yet if it was the same one that Champ had said on the phone would belong to the person who received the executive chef position. And right now you're far too afraid to ask.

“That sounds good, sweetheart.” Champ leans back in his chair and rubs his belly. “We’ve got some talkin’ to do, but thank you for a fine meal.” He turns towards the others, about to tell Jack that he should walk you to the accommodations you’re staying in, he should recognize there. But before he can, Tequila leaps out of his chair.

“I’ll walk you!” He blurts out, cringing a little at how loud he had gotten and gives a small shrug. “I mean, I’ll help you clean up and show you where to go, give you an unofficial tour.”

"That's very nice of you." He's sweet, this towering cowboy with the bright smile, and while Jack is far more your type, there's no denying Tex is attractive. "I'd appreciate the extra hand to figure out where I'm going. This place is kind of huge." If you've only got the one night here, it won't hurt to pass it in good company. As attractive as you find Jack, and as much as he seemed to like your food, you don't get the feeling that he likes you very much.

Tequila lights up and it takes everything in Champ not to snort at his eagerness. Jack looks like something’s stuck in his craw, his slight frown making the older man smirk as he watches the two of you gather dishes and carry them beyond the barrier into the belly of the kitchen. “You coulda offered, ya know.” Champ tells Jack, making the other man huff.

“I’m going back to my place,” He sulks, standing up and glancing towards the doors again, seemingly torn.

"At least say good night," Diana urges, seeing the hesitation on Jack's face. "She worked hard tonight and you liked what she made, so just...stick your head in? Say good night? There's no harm in being polite."

“Damn fool.” Champ hisses, making Diana turn and shush him. “Can’t see that it’s a damn blight on her memory to be actin’ this way.”

"Everybody mourns differently, Rick." Diana murmurs, shooting her husband a fierce look as they both watch Jack shuffle his feet at the turn of the long kitchen, debating whether or not to go in.

Jack has never had fucking sweaty palms, never. Not even when he was standing at the altar waiting for his sweet Abigail. Now, it feels like his hands are coated in baby oil. He can’t keep them dry, rubbing them on his jeans for the fourteenth time since he’s stood. “Damn Ginger and her hangover shit.” He mutters to himself, rolling his eyes over how juvenile he is being. Rolling his shoulders back, Jack assumes the bravado and cockiness that he is known for and pushes through the barrier to stride into the kitchen.

You practically jump when the door opens again, not having expected anyone to come in. Tex is beside you at the sink, loading the dishwasher after you rinse off plates, but when you spin around you're surprised to see Jack standing in the doorway with a charming grin painted on his face. "Jack." You swallow your surprise at seeing him along with the laugh that had been bubbling out of you when you heard him approach. "Can I help you with something?"

“I’ve got to get goin’ miss.” He murmurs, suddenly a lot less eager to escape, but it’s for the best. “Just wanting to thank you for the fine meal.” He reaches up and tips his hat towards you. “Have a good night.”

"Thank you very much. But hang on one second." Quickly running over to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, you rummage for a few seconds before coming out with a container bearing the rest of the crawfish salad you had used in the sandwiches, and another bearing two more of the coconut cupcakes that he had ended up loving. "Take these with you," you insist, holding them out once you're in front of him again. "In case...in case I don't get the job, ya know? You seemed to really like these."

Jack opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out as he silently takes the containers. Touched that you would give away the extras because he had liked them. It’s only when they are against his chest does he remember that the entire point of him coming into the kitchen was to be polite. “Thanks, sugar.” He drawls quietly, looking down at the food. “I—I appreciate that.”

“It was very nice to meet you, Jack.” He seems slightly odd, or maybe just taken off guard, or maybe he’s sad. You can’t tell, but he was very nice about your food and you’ve always been the sort of person to return kindness with kindness.

Jack stares at you for a moment, conflicting emotions waging a war inside him as he does. Finally, he reminds himself that you don’t know who he is and he’s free to leave. He nods again and looks past you towards Tequila. “Behave.” Jack tells his younger friend, knowing that he can get rowdy when he wants.

“They call us Southern gentlemen, don’t they?” Tequila shoots Jack back a wink that you don’t catch and grins. “Y’all get home safe. I’m just gonna show our new friend here around the place.”

Jack frowns as he turns around and walks out of the kitchen, bitterness swelling in his gut and he hates it. He reminds himself that this isn’t his place. He killed your soulmate.

“He seems nice,” you observe, trying to shake off the odd feeling that washes over you when he looks sad again before walking out. Like you want to rush after him and give him a hug or something.

“Jack?” Tequila looks up from the pan he is washing and gives a shrug. “He’s a damn good man. Going through a rough time.” It’s not his place to mention it, especially to someone who’s not aware they are all agents. So he leaves it at that. “But he was right, those were some damn fine desserts.”

“Thank you.” The way that makes your cheeks burn is professional pride, you tell yourself unconvincingly. “I’m very hopeful. This…this job would be a dream, and everybody has been so nice. It would be…a real adventure, ya know? A big, fresh start.”

He chuckles and nods in agreement. “Workin’ for Statesman is never dull. Always havin’ an adventure or ten since coming on.”

Taking the last pan from him, you load it into the industrial dishwasher and shut the machine, pressing the button on the side before you wipe your hands. “What’s the most fun you’ve had working here?” You ask, wanting to see if you can get a feel for this place and these people and what their adventures might be.

“Well–” Any and all stories would have to be tamed down for your ears. Plus you don’t have a security clearance. “There was the time we had someone try to break into the facility to steal a barrel of the ‘65. It was personal then.” Tequila huffs. “Best damn batch we have.”

You’re about to ask how that could possibly be fun until you remember he’s security and you end up shaking your head and laughing. “Do you get that a lot? People trying to break in, or theft?”

“More than you’d think.” He snorts, knowing how it might seem crazy to a civilian. “It’s why our security system is so advanced. If you run across some hardware you don’t recognize, best to stay away.”

“Really? Wow. I wouldn’t have thought it would be that bad.” Leaning back against the sink, you stretch your arms and feel a little bit of satisfied soreness coming through your muscles after a job well done. “You must have a big team, then? Champ made it sound like a lot of employees live on the premises, but that would make this place absolutely huge.”

“Yeah.” Tequila hooks his thumbs through his jeans belt loops and grins at you. “Lotta technical stuff they do, don’t understand it, but the big brain was here. Astrid? She’s over our R&D.”

“Damn,” you murmur, impressed. “Well…are you up for that tour? I’d love to see the whole place.” Just in case it’s the only chance you get.

Winking at you, Tequila straightens and walks over to you to offer his arm. “Nothing like a nice night and a pretty girl to walk with.” He flirts.

“Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that I’m not the first girl you’ve ever said that to?” Not that you care, though. You’re not one of those uptight people who thinks people should only ever be with their soulmates. And even if you were? Well…you don’t have one anymore, so it’s kind of a moot point. Instead of lingering on it, you grab your bag from under the counter and take the arm you’re being offered with a smile. “Lead the way, cowboy.”

“Who knows, might be the last time.” Tequila murmurs, aiming another grin at you as the two of you make your way out of the kitchen and through the empty dining room. “This is going to be our newest venture.” He teases. “Some kinda tea room? With Whiskey? I don’t know but the food’s amazing.”

“Oh god, don’t curse it,” you groan playfully, wiping one hand down your face.

“Naaaaahhhhh.” He chuckles and opens the door for the two of you to walk out into the late evening twilight. “I can tell you’re gonna get it.”

“Either way, I’m glad I came.” Sure it’s different from New Hampshire. Drastically, in some ways. But you’ve lived your whole life on the sea coast and Louisville is a big city. It would be, just like this interview, a big adventure.

“You’ll be enjoyin’ the country and mountains in no time.” Tequila predicts, bringing you around to see the distillery up close.

The facilities are actually beautiful. Equally rustic and hyper modern depending on the building, with aesthetically gorgeous gardens lining all the walkways as far as the eye can see. The main building is full of offices, Tex explains, and even those are as beautifully kept as the rest of the grounds. It’s impressive, you have to admit it. You were absolutely right to think this place would make an amazing wedding venue. It will - for you or for whatever chef gets hired.

The path for housing is off the main distillery, secluded enough that people don’t feel like they are living at work. Trees and shrubbery separating the spaces so that it feels like a little relaxing oasis. The path way is lit, Diana insisting that it makes the entire area look romantic and of course Champ wasn’t going to deny her. “This is our housing.” He tells you. “We decided to go with the theme and model them after mountain ‘shine cabins. With modern conveniences, of course.”

There’s big houses and little houses, and what looks like a small apartment complex to one side of the neighborhood built on Statesman grounds. On the other side, beyond what you can only describe as a small park and grove of trees, are three much larger houses that smack of importance or seniority. “Who lives in those?” You ask, pointing toward the trio.

“Those belong to our senior staff.” He points at the largest. “That’s Champ’s in the middle and Jack and Ginger on either side of him.”

"Ginger?" Tilting your head at him slightly, you ask the quest with your brow slightly furrowed. "What does she do?"

Tequila winces, catching his mistake. “Astrid.” He corrects. “We just all call her Ginger. Nickname of sorts.” He can’t tell you that it’s her code name Ginger Ale.

"Got it." You nod, remembering that he had said Astrid ran the research and development department at Statesman - whatever that meant when it came to whiskey. "I'm guessing that one is hers?" The house on the right of Champ's is hyper modern with clean lines and very little of the mountain-aesthetic charm of the other houses around. It looks like it was made just for her with all the bells and whistles. Conversely, Jack's house to the left of Champ's looks like an almost Victorian-style ranch house with a wrap-around porch and a paint job as pristine as his mustache. It's much more your style than Champ's mountain cabin or Astrid's smart house, but since it doesn't matter at all you don't say anything about it. "Which one is yours?" The question is out of your mouth before you realize how exactly it sounds, and your eyes go wide with embarrassment just a split second later.

Tequila grins at you, sending you a small wink. “Come on, darlin’.” He drawls playfully. “I’ll give you the grand tour.” He knows you don’t mean it how it sounds, but he can’t resist teasing you. He moseys down the path and points to one of the small cabins. “That one there is mine.” He tells you proudly,

"It looks comfy." True to bachelor form, which you expected, the curtains hung in the windows are dark and 'masculine' in a deep shade of green, and a glimpse through into the garage reveals a large, shiny pick up truck that is probably his pride and joy.

“It’s where I hang my hat.” Tequila looks at the cabin fondly. It was probably the most secure he’s ever been in his life and he risks his neck on every mission. “And there’s where you’re stayin’.” He points at a newly built one off to the left, nearer to Jack’s. “It’ll be yours if you get the job. It’s furnished.” He rushes out. “So you won’t be sleeping on the floor or nothing.”

"We'd be neighbors," you laugh, as if everybody here doesn't live in the same neighborhood. It's a company town without feeling creepy or oppressive. This is the end of the road, both literally and figuratively, and you offer the man beside you a smile. "Thank you for the tour. And for being so friendly today. I've been nerve wracked since 9am, but whether you knew it or not, you helped calm me down. I appreciate it."

“No problem at all.” Tequila senses that you aren’t going to invite him in and while he’s disappointed, he’s not going to complain. Some women need to be wooed and you seem like the type to like the effort. “There’s a fresh bottle of the ‘93 in there, made sure of it. Lighter, but it’ll put you to sleep just like a baby.”

“Thank you.” There’s a hesitation, and though you can’t quite put your finger on why it’s there, you listen to your gut and squeeze his arm gently before slipping your hand out of it. You’ve never been one to fall into bed on a first date - and nothing about this very odd but fun day was ever a date to begin with. And hell, if you actually do get hired here, that could be a hell of an awkward situation. “Hopefully,” you shrug, feeling like if you don’t at least say something you’ll regret it later on. “I’ll see you again. Fingers crossed, and all that.” It’s so stupid when it comes out of your mouth that you almost wince. “I’m gonna retreat,” you announce, huffing at your own awkwardness and pointing a thumb toward the door of the little house you’re meant to stay in. “Before I embarrass myself or say something dumbass. Good night, Tex.”

“Goodnight, darlin’.” He sends you a wink and steps back from the cabin steps that you two had managed to drift towards. “Let me know if you need anything but I’m sure they put everything by you need in there.”

“I’ll come knock on your door if I need a cup of sugar,” you joke, reaching for the doorknob. Dumbass. You waited too long and said something dumbass. Chuckling instead of wincing, you say another good night and go inside. Time to call your family and tell them everything that happened today.

******

Jack tells himself that he is just making sure that you are safe. You are technically his responsibility now. At least until someone in the universe realizes they fucked up. Guilt is another reason why he’s standing in the shadow of the large oak tree, watching you walk into the cabin and close the door behind you. Tequila turns and strides towards his own cabin, whistling a jaunty tune under his breath and Jack sighs in relief when he doesn’t spot him.

The house is gorgeous. It’s simply decorated but welcoming, clean and crisp and clearly unlived in. The kitchen has a spectacular range and a huge fridge, which currently stands empty but has a map of the Statesman campus stuck to it with a Stetson-shaped magnet and there is a bottle of ‘93 on the counter as promised. Deciding to call home after you have a drink, you pour two fingers of single malt into a glass from the cupboard and continue to wander around the ground floor.

“You could always go talk to her.” Jack doesn’t react when Champ steps up next to him beside the tree. His own gaze fixed on the newly built cabin. “Can’t be more than thirty steps to her door.”

Jack purses his lips, unhappy that his friend is in his mind. “Champ…” He warns, not wanting to be pushed right now.

“Well,” the older man shrugs, a small smile on his face as always. Champ perpetually looks as if he’s up to no good - mostly because he is. “Somebody should tell her she’s got the job. Don’t see why she should be twistin’ til tomorrow morning.”

“You’re really going to do this? Open up some tea time type thing?” He huffs, unable to believe such a thing would go over well in the whiskey distillery. Even if you are an amazing baker. “Just to keep her here?”

“It’s a restaurant.” Champ reasons, hooking his thumbs in his belt as he watches you appear in an upstairs window. You’re on the phone now. “I wanted a steakhouse for the place, but Diana said it was boring.” He laughs, knowing his wife was probably right. “She’ll make a good run of the place, and she’s got a mind for expanding it to do weddings.” He glances down at Jack but doesn’t push the point. “Good head for business is what she’s got. We’d be lucky to snag her even if she weren’t who she is.” Or what you are to Jack.

Jack sighs, resigned to the fact that you will be here. He’s not opposed to the idea, he likes anything that makes money. But he knows this was catered to you so you would stay. “She’s gonna hate me.” Jack predicts, guilt hanging around his shoulders again.

“Maybe.” Though Champ chuckles affectionately. “Hell, you’re my best friend and even I hate you sometimes. But…she might surprise ya, Jack. Can’t know unless you try.”

“She’s not Abigail, Champ.” Jack whispers the words softly, almost shamed by them but he can’t help his feelings. He never expected to have another soulmate…ever.

“Of course not.” He answers immediately, brow furrowed over the very idea. “Nor should she be. You’re not the same man you were back then.”

“I– I don’t know how to be a soulmate anymore.” That’s his biggest fear. That he would be horrible at it, or God forbid, lose someone again. Jack is scared of nothing, but this has his heart hammering in his chest.

Champ sighs, softly and hopefully not enough for Jack to hear. “How about just bein’ her friend?” He suggests, wondering how in the hell this thing with Tequila was going to play out alongside Jack’s fears. You might end up being trouble for Statesman, he can’t know yet. “For all you know, this second soulmate of yours could be platonic and you’re worryin’ over nothing.”

Jack chuckles and it’s a harsh sound. “Have you ever known anything about me and another woman as pretty as her to be platonic? Few exceptions of course.”

“Only gorgeous woman you’ve ever been strictly friends with is Ginger.” Champ admits, snorting in amusement. “But I’d like to watch her wife whoop you for tryin’.”

This time, Jack’s laugh is lighter, more genuine. It was true that while Gabriella looks innocent, the woman could - and would - knock a grown man on his ass. He’s witnessed it at the bar more than once. “One if she crushes me with her thighs.” He jokes.

“I’m sure she’d oblige if you asked.” The two men laugh, feeling the tension dissipate a little, and Champ claps his hands on Jack’s shoulder in that brotherly way he’s become accustomed to do. “Tonight or tomorrow,” he tells Jack. “Tell her when you’re ready. But she’s goin’ home on the jet tomorrow to pack, not to leave for good.”

Sighing, Jack turns and watches Champ wander back towards his own house, Diana no doubt waiting for him. He should tell you tonight. Not let you wallow in misery and suspense. After you get off the phone, he’ll go knock on the door.

******

“I don’t know how it’s all going to turn out, but…I kind of love the people I’ve met so far,” you admit to your mother, sinking down in the window seat that faces the backyard of the little cabin that someone will soon be living in. The guest room has a beautiful reading chair and end table in it, but the master bedroom has a window seat so plush and comfortable that you could just sleep right here. “It’s beautiful here, too. It really is.”

“You said they loved it, that has to mean you are going to get the position.” As disappointed as she will be to have you move away, she knows that it would be fantastic for your career. “Your own restaurant! Just imagine what you could do without having to pander to someone else’s ego.”

“Dad will be thrilled to know the house has a guest room,” you joke, feeling hope flutter in your chest and staring out into the backyard with the now-empty glass still in your other hand. “And the yard could have room for a garden if I wanted.” You sigh, leaning back against the wall and wishing you didn’t have to wait until morning to find out. “If I don’t get it, we should bring him down here for his next birthday. Celebrate sixty-five with a distillery tour and a trip to Dollywood. It’s only a couple of hours from here.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” She promises, smiling at the wistful hope in your voice. You want this position, that much is obvious. “Tell me – how did the coconut cupcakes go over?”

“Like gangbusters.” And your giggle is nearly triumphant. “The owner’s wife joked that it’s good enough to get a proposal so I told the story about grandma and grandpa, and…” you grin to yourself thinking of Jack’s ecstatic reaction. “There was one guy at the tasting who doesn’t even like coconut who was completely in love with them. I think I may have converted him.”

“You know…your grandpa didn’t like coconut either.” Your mother practically cackles. “Said she won him over. Only coconut thing he would ever eat.”

“Seriously?” That makes you laugh a little harder, and you wish you had just one more sip of whiskey in the bottom of that glass. “I don’t want to jinx it,” you tell her finally. “But I have a really good feeling about this place.”

“Good feelings inspire good outcomes.” She hums, hoping that you will call her with good news tomorrow. “I can’t see them not hiring you after sending a private jet.”

“I hope so.” You really, truly hope so with everything you’ve got. “Either way, I’ll be home tomorrow. Either to pack or to wallow in disappointment.”

“Either way, we are going to celebrate.” If there was one thing that was taught in the household you grew up in, it is that even losses are celebrated. Because it meant you tried, and it would make you try again.

“Okay.” Nodding against your phone, you sigh softly again and roll your shoulders back against the wall. “I’m going to pour myself another drink and watch a movie until I’m ready to go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Relax, sweetheart.” Your mother murmurs softly. “See if they have a soaker tub to lay in. You managed to work on your day off too.” She tells you that she loves you and ends the call.

She’s right, but you decide that whiskey and a movie sounds better than a bath and you wander downstairs again. The bugs sound different here. Kentucky air smells different from New Hampshire air. But still, somehow, it could very easily become home.

Jack sighs when he sees you walk back into the living room, phone not pinned to your ear. He should go talk to you. The first step seems to take forever - the length of time it takes you to pour a drink - before he starts slowly walking towards your house.

The knock is unexpected, and part of you wonders who you hope is on the other side of that door - Champ with his decision or Tex offering company. Or even Jack, handsome and slightly sad Jack, though you can’t figure out why he would visit you. “Coming!” You call out, leaving your drink on the kitchen counter and hustling through the living room. A split second before pulling open the door you decide you’re hoping it’s Champ more than anymore, but when you see Jack standing on the front step instead, your heart jumps a little. “Jack!” It makes your voice jump, too, and you groan inwardly about being awkward around him yet again. “I—I wasn’t expecting anyone. What do you…” Be polite, dammit. “Would you like to come in?”

Swallowing, Jack gives a small nod as he curses himself for being a fool. It’s talking to a lady, something he had no problems with. It didn’t matter that he is wearin’ your ink. “It’s not too late, I hope? I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Not at all. I was just going to have a drink and relax.” There’s no reason on earth he should make you so nervous, but he does, and you bite the inside of your lip. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure.” He’s not going to turn down some whiskey, even though they should have left you a ‘82. Better year in his opinion.

You pace back to the kitchen, pour a second glass, and bring it back to Jack with a thick swallow. “To what do I owe the visit?” If it were actually your house, or even a hotel room, you would feel so much more comfortable and be more at ease as you motion for him to sit. As it is, you just feel like you’re trespassing in somebody else’s home.

“Wanted to see if you liked the place.” Small talk is a good place to start, he guesses. Taking the glass with a nod of appreciation, he looks around. “Not just the cabin but Statesman itself. The whole shebang.”

"Honestly?" Sitting on the edge of the sofa isn't exactly relaxed, but you perch there with your glass in your hands. "I kind of love it. I mean I'm trying not to get too attached until I know what's going to happen with the job, but...I really like it. Everyone's been so nice and the whole place is so welcoming." It's silly to feel that way, you know that. But even after only a few hours, you can't deny it. "I have kind of an instinct about places, most of the time. And I have a really good feeling about this one."

“That’s good, sugar.” The endearment slips out, not the first time, but he realizes it this time. “Would you accept, if you’re offered it?” He’s curious to know what you are leaving behind, what you might balk at. Maybe you don’t believe in soulmates and have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.

This isn't the time to get all emotional over manners. Southern men using pet names is normal, not something to get you all flustered. Even though it does - as evidenced by the stack of cowboy themed romance novels on your bookshelf at home. "I think I would," you nod, letting yourself take a steadying sip of your drink. "It's...pretty literally my dream job, if I'm honest."

Jack nods, swallowing a mouthful of the whiskey, enjoying the burn of the liquid. He’s hesitating and it annoys him. “Then I guess that it’s a good thing you’ll get to live out your dreams, sugar.” He tells you with a whimsical smile. “The job is yours for the takin’.”

"Wait." Your eyes dart up to his, going from staring down into your cup to blown wide and hopeful in less than a second. "A–are you serious? Is that why you came?" It would be entirely inappropriate to start crying in front of a complete stranger, but you're instantly so excited you could burst.

“Champ’ll want you to sign papers in the morning, but I’m serious.” He nods and gives a small shrug. “Figured I’d bring you the good news so you didn’t have to worry all night. I always sleep like shit if I’m ponderin’ something.”

"Oh my god." Your heart is pounding and you feel like the blood pounding in your ears is so loud that he can hear it too, but frankly you're just glad that you manage to put your glass down on the side table without spilling it all over yourself. "Oh– oh my god." The way you practically squeak with glee makes you clamp both hands over your mouth in embarrassment despite the excitement glistening in your eyes. "I'm sorry, I just... really? Champ said yes?"

The genuine excitement and happiness that fills your face and eyes has Jack grinning despite himself. Your little squeak was full of joy and he can feel you vibrate with energy from where he’s sitting. “Champ said yes.” He confirms. “Hell, I think he’d be a fool not to say yes.” Maybe a bit of an embellishment on his part, but that’s because he knows you would be offered a chance to stay regardless of your skills. However, you truly are talented and Champ wants to make this tea room a reality.

“That’s so kind of you.” Your hands slip down, resting over your heart as you try to contain your excitement. If this wasn’t a complete stranger in front of you, you would be literally dancing with joy right now. “That’s so unbelievably kind of you Jack and I—” Breathe. Don’t get so breathless that you embarrass yourself. “I swear I won’t let any of you down.”

His heart clenches, knowing you will be saying something far different if you knew what he had done. There wouldn’t be a sort of hero worship he sees in your eyes even though he just delivered the good news. “Sugar, you make sweets.” He jokes. “There’s no way you could let us down. Unless the cake don’t rise.”

You laugh, charmed slightly at the term of endearment that is in almost every one of your cowboy novels but somehow seems even more appropriate now that it’s be used pointedly with you as a baker. “I would never let that happen,” you promise him, crossing one finger over your heart like a solemn oath. “My Grandma Jane would sense it somehow, rise up, and come down from New Hampshire to see me straight.”

Of course you would be from New Hampshire. Jack manages to not react and instead he gives a small chuckle like he was supposed to. “Now you should be able to sleep like a baby.” He considers it for a second and shrugs. “Or not sleep at all because you’re excited. This will be your house by the way. So imagine how you’re going to move things around.”

“I might not sleep because I’ll be rearranging things.” You’re brimming over, practically giggling and tearing up as your heart pounds with excitement. “This is…it’s…” The breath you blow out comes with another barely contained squeak. “I feel like I want to celebrate but I have no idea where to go around here.”

Jack lifts a brow, surprised you don’t want to get back on the phone but he chuckles. “Well, there’s Shootouts, about five miles down the road.” He tilts his head. “It’s a rowdy place most nights. But it’s fun.”

“Rowdy sounds fun.” Most of the time, the dive bar you frequented at home was full of locals having shouting matches and screaming at the hockey game on tv or bitching at each other over a shot at the pool table. Working in kitchens, rowdy is par for the course. Most people just don’t expect that of you when they find out you make dainty little cakes for a living. “Do you…” you tilt your head at him slightly, wondering why your chest clenches at the thought. “Would you want to come with? Or do you have someone to get back to?” That big house of his must be lonely if he lives there all alone.

He shouldn’t but he also can’t leave you on your own at Shootouts. He could see that being a disaster in the making. “Warning.” He cautions. “They sell beer and whiskey, no mixers or cocktails.”

“You say that like you think I’m going to fan myself or be scandalized.” Which is what most people who don’t know you assume, so you can’t blame him. “But whiskey’s always been my favourite flavor.”

Jack smirks, automatically coming up with a dirty come back but he doesn’t say it. Flirting would be wrong, even if you are beautiful. Instead he tilts his head towards the door. “Get your jacket then, sugar.” He tells you. “We’ll take my Bronco.”

Glasses abandoned to side tables, you grab your leather jacket off the rack by the door and pat the pockets to make sure your cash and cards are inside before following him out the door. His house is a mere five minute walk from the – from your house – and you marvel excitedly at the neighborhood around you when you step outside again. This is it. Your new home.

“Don’t eat the bar nuts.” Jack chuckles as he motions you towards the Bronco. “Think they’ve been there since the 40s. Let me grab the keys and we’ll go.”

“Got it.” You chuckle as he heads into his house. It gives you a moment to quickly pull out your phone, tapping out a text to the family text thread to let everyone know you’re going out celebrating your brand new job.

Jack changes from his sports jacket into a black leather one that would be better suited for the bar. Unconsciously matching you slightly with your own leather jacket. He grabs his keys and heads out the door and jogs over the Bronco, showing off by hopping in rather than opening the door.

“So is Shootouts where you usually go to hang out?” Tucking your phone away, you slide into the Bronco’s soft leather seats and buckle up. Now that you know you’re staying here, you want to know absolutely everything.

“It’s been known to be taken over by Statesman personnel.” Jack grins. “The locals can be a bit much but they are half drunk most of the time.”

“I’ve spent years hanging out with line cooks,” you tell him honestly, settling back in the comfortable seat as he pulls out of his driveway. “So that sounds pretty relaxing to me.”

“From what I know about kitchens, that checks out.” Jack laughs as he starts driving down the road to lead out of the Statesman property.

The ride is cordial, and fairly short. You mostly listen to the radio together, comparing notes on mutual favourite classic rock bands and talking about Kentucky in general. Finding out that Jack isn’t actually from here surprises you initially, but it’s a fond reassurance that this is a place that people grow to love and feel at home in. Something that you’re already starting to do after just a few hours.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, Jack throws the Bronco into park and turns towards you. “If it ain’t your style, lemme know and we’ll get outta here.” The jukebox is cranking out a country rock song and the noise from the bar reaches all the way past the shine of the neon light.

“Don’t worry about me.” You assure him. Jack is funny and sweet, you’ve discovered, when he doesn’t have resting sad face. You lend him a grin and point your thumb at the bar. “I like a good country tune and a little line dancing now and then.” It’s an understatement, considering how much you love to dance, but you’re trying not to be overeager or infodump.

“Oh you’re gonna be like a tornado in a trailer park, ain’t cha?” Jack huffs and he hops out of the Bronco and walks around to help you out.

“Maybe.” You grin, tip of your tongue between your teeth and nose wrinkled on a grin when he comes around to the other side of the truck. “Very gentlemanly of you.” It’s simple, and polite, but when you put your hand in Jack’s to accept his help in climbing out of the Bronco you nearly shiver at the contact.

Jack’s mouth is suddenly dry and he needs a drink. The tingling of your skin against his is subtle, so much that he swears he’s imagining it. “Right,” he clears his throat and closes the door behind you. “Let’s celebrate.”

It’s loud inside, raucous patrons and well-placed speakers blasting country rock as a few people dance and some play pool; but most are gathered in booths and around tables talking and laughing and having a good time. “I like it,” you declare unequivocally, sensing immediately that this place is full of the best kind of fun.

Jack smirks, appreciating that you can enjoy the lack of fussiness. It’s a rustic place and some, especially the women who came here from big cities, didn’t care for its appeal. “Then let’s get a drink.”

You’re not an unrealistic person, and no matter how often Jack or the crew from Statesman might come here, almost nothing gets a bartender’s attention faster than being flirted with, so you pull on the front of your blouse just enough to deepen the vee of the neck and sidle up to the bar. The man behind the bar makes the expected beeline for the unknown pretty woman batting her eyelashes at him. “Statesman Red Label for me, and a glass of whatever my friend wants,” you tell him, motioning to Jack just beside you.

Snorting in amusement at how fast the bartender’s eyes drop down to your cleavage before even giving him a second look, Jack raises his brow. “Just gimme a beer.” He tells him, knowing that he should pace himself, especially given how rowdy the place will work itself up to as the night goes on.

“What kind of beer do you drink down here?” Even as you all the question, you’re checking out the tap handles to see if there’s any you don’t recognize. After all, local beers change region to region. You’re not exactly betting they’ll have Sam Adam’s Summer Ale here when the weather gets warmer.

“They have all the domestic.” Jack tells you as he nods towards the draft handles. “But they also keep the Kentucky Bourbon Ale on draft.” He chuckles, knowing that it’s a bit of a cliche. “Best damn beer you’ll ever have.”

"That will have to be drink number two," you tell him, taking the recommendation seriously considering he - and you now - work for a distillery. You'll pace yourself, of course, but you're celebrating and can drink most line cooks you've known under the table. Two drinks is nothing. "The Red Label is always my celebratory drink. Well...normally it's a Red Label Manhattan, but you said they don't mix drinks here."

“We’ll have to make sure you have a bottle of Red Label then.” Jack leans against the bar and decides that it’s only polite to ask a question. “So Statesman isn’t a new whiskey to you, huh? Do you drink it often?”

"It's my dad's favourite. And became mine, too." He smells clean and woodsy and there's something musky like surprisingly high end cologne coming from him that makes you want to just curl into him and sigh in comfort - but that's a goddamn weird thing to think, so you just enjoy the sort of halo around him. "Today is definitely not the first day I've used Statesman in my baking. I just never knew much about the company before." You shrug slightly, trying to seem relaxed instead of like a damn cavewoman with goosebumps from being so close to him. "I guess that's going to change pretty quickly."

“Considering you can go into the distillery and draw some straight from the barrel to put into your cakes and pies, I’d say so.” Jack groans as he imagines it. “If you make bourbon soaked peach cobbler with vanilla bourbon cream, I’d sit up and beg.”

"That sounds like a hell of a twist to my peach cobbler. Bourbon soaked grilled peach cobbler with vanilla bourbon ice cream that also uses Bourbon vanilla." You hum a little, digging for your credit card when the bartender reappears with your drinks.

“Now you really expect to pay?” Jack might have his moments, but he’s a gentleman. “Put that away. Drinks are on me.” He tells you, turning to the bartender. “Put them on my tab.”

"As long as you let me pay next time we go out." You shouldn't get a little thrill at the idea, but Jack is the spitting image of every single cowboy love interest in every one of your books - or at least the way you picture them. Even if he's just a friendly face you see from time to time, you're damn well going to enjoy it.

He frowns but doesn’t say no. It’s hard to let someone else pay, especially when it was a woman. Not because he was sexist or some shit, but because his daddy would roll out of his grave and whoop his ass for letting a woman pay while she was out with him. Instead of making it a thing, he picks up his beer. “To new jobs and delicious sweets.” He toasts. “Cheers, sugar.”

"Cheers." The rim of your glass taps the neck of his beer bottle and you smile before taking your first sip, loving the familiar burn and cherry-caramel tones of this particular bourbon. There's a reason it's your favourite. "So tell me about Statesman," you ask, turning and leaning against the bar to face Jack. "How long have you worked there?"

Jack hums, thinking about it. “Since ‘99.” Champ had come around the year after Abigail had…. “So you can say I’ve been there awhile.” He interrupts his sad train of thought and quickly takes another swallow of his beer. “It’s turned from a two bit operation into what it is now.”

Since ‘99? You blanch a little thinking about how young you were then but decide not to say anything since it hardly matters anymore. Grown ass adults are grown ass adults. "Tex said you used to work security?"

He can't answer that. Or, doesn't want to so he merely grunts and gives a quasi nod. Delving into his background would reveal too much that he doesn't want you to see. Champ still hasn't told him what kind of security clearance you will have, if any, and it wouldn't be right to start unfolding how Jack had been recruited to the agency.

Okay…maybe not talking about work, then? He seems reticent and you don’t want to accidentally upset the man you came out with - for various reasons. Not the least of which is that you do not like being the reason people are upset. “He, uh– Tex speaks very highly of you,” you try again, steering it in a slightly different direction.

Snorting, Jack sends you a look of amusement and lifts his beer up before taking another sip. "He should, I got him the job." He tells you, remember the skirmish that he had gotten into and been surprised when the rodeo clown had been very cool under pressure.

“Yeah?” That would definitely account for some of the way Tex talked about his older coworker, and you have to wonder if more people at Statesman have close working relationships or if these two men are outliers. “That must be a good story.”

"Not much of one." Jack hums, giving another slight shrug. "Way he tells it is that I was having my ass handed to me and he had to come save the day. But I was holding my own. It was eight to one." He smirks and sends you a small, cocky wink.

It is extremely cavewoman of you to find that so sexy, you tell yourself, burying the way you have to bite your lip behind your glass to keep from saying something suggestive, and taking a sip. “What did you do piss off eight guys?” You ask instead, trying to look only mildly curious instead of on the edge of your seat.

He can't tell you that he was running down a human trafficking ring so he just sends you a small smirk. "They were pissed off that I hit on one of their girlfriends." He boasts, figuring it was as good of a story as any. The real story was that he had managed to get one of the women out and they hadn't been happy when they stumbled upon them leaving.

“Scoundrel.” It’s just teasing, and you don’t hear how much like flirting it really sounds as you shake your head at him in amusement. “I hope she was worth fighting over.” It occurs to you for the first time that he might have somebody waiting for him in that house on the edge of Statesman grounds and your stomach twists unpleasantly.

"Comes with the territory." He looks around for a moment, trying to ignore how your lopsided grin makes his pulse tick up. "You bringin' someone special with you?" He asks, telling himself he's just asking so he can assuage this guilt over killing your soulmate.

“Oh, sure.” You know what he means, but it isn’t the case. There hasn’t been much time for dating lately and with the disappearance of your soulmate’s marks, you’ve been processing the disappointment in knowing that true love is officially off the table - which might make you feel dumb sometimes but at least you’re honest with yourself about being disappointed to have to live without it. “I think my goldfish is really going to like the new house.”

Not sure if he’s relieved or even more guilty, Jack nods. “Sure think Goldy would like the eastern window, huh?” He asks, chuckling to himself as you take a sip of your drink. You’re easy to get along with and if it weren’t for who you are, he can’t even deny he’d be doing his damndest to take you back to his bed tonight.

“Yes, the Doormouse will love the eastern window,” you over-exaggerate, laughing as you think of walking your little fish tank around the house presenting the goldfish with multiple options for a view. “He’ll insist on a stroll around the garden each day, I’m sure.”

“You should build him an outdoor swimming hole.” He chuckles, leaning into the idea. “Maybe a stream so he can pretend he’s free.”

“I think the backyard of the house is too small.” It’s not something that bothers you at all, since you hadn’t even thought of it yet, but you hum over the image and let yourself indulge in the fantasy. “A pond with a little stream and a garden of flowers and herbs. That’s what he’ll get to adventure through one day. But maybe not yet.”

“Hell, that sounds like a good little adventure to me.” Jack muses, an amused little smile on his face.

“Should I call you the Doormouse, too?” You tease, even though you have a feeling that grin of his makes him more like a troublesome Cheshire Cat.

He realizes that you are making a reference to Alice in Wonderland and for a brief second, his mark - your mark - seems to burn. “Like the movie or the book?” He asks casually.

“Well…the Doormouse is in pretty much any adaptation of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland or Alice Through the Looking Glass.” The fact that he recognizes the character isn’t exactly niche, but it’s certainly not like you called him a Mad Hatter or something. “They’re…they’re my favorite stories. They have been since I was a kid.” As if to prove it, you pull up your right shirt sleeve and show him the tattoo on your arm. “I guess you can blame my obsession with tea parties on it, too, honestly.”

He learns a little bit about you, probably more than he would have if he guessed. “What’s the appeal?” He asks, curious as to why a child’s story has carried into adulthood.

“Haven’t you ever felt terribly ordinary?” To you, it seems like it must be a universal experience. Everyone, at some point in their life, has felt like the least extraordinary person in the world. “Maybe it’s juvenile, I don’t know. But the idea that Alice feels so entirely ordinary in her existence, and then falls into someplace entirely wonderful…even if it’s scary at first? It seems like that’s something everyone deserves. To find the place and the people that make them feel that life is extraordinary.”

“Have you found your wonderful place yet?” He can’t fault your logic, understanding now the ink that is in his own skin. “Or are you still looking?”

“I’m still looking.” Shifting your sleeve back into place, you shrug half-heartedly. You had thought that finding your soulmate would help you to that extraordinary life, but now that will never happen. If anything, you feel farther from it than ever. Although you’re not the sort to give up hope. “But who knows? Maybe it will be Statesman.”

“Statesman has a way of collecting a ragtag bunch of people.” Jack confides, knowing he is better because of his involvement with the organization. He would have been dead by now if Champ hadn’t come along. “And we have whiskey.” He adds, sending you a wink.

“And now you have crawfish sandwiches and coconut cake, too.” A little wink shouldn’t be anything to fluster over, but you can feel your cheeks heat instantly.

“For someone who said they are a baker, you make a mean crawfish salad.” Jack groans, wishing he had some right now.

“They’re even better when they’re on fresh baked bread.” You tell him, maybe a little smug even though you’re just being honest. “Champ said I get to design my own full menu, so I promise they’ll be on there.”

“I’ll be swinging by everyday for lunch if you’ll let employees eat.” Jack promises, lifting his beer to his lips again. “Have to start running again. Or beat the shit out of Tex in the boxing ring some more.”

That makes you snort - as inelegant a laugh as it is - and you’re just lucky you hadn’t taken another sip of whiskey yet. “What did the poor boy ever do to deserve a beating?” You plead his case for him since he isn’t here to do it himself. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were brothers with that kind of threat.”

For a split second, jealousy rears its ugly head before Jack tamps it down. The defense of the younger man has him puffing up his chest slightly and he exhales on a laugh. “Near as, I guess. But I’m the older, more handsome of the two.”

Well…he isn’t wrong, and you’re not going to contradict him. Instead, you down the last sip of whiskey in your glass with a tip of your head and hold out your hand. The jukebox is playing good music and you’re feeling bold. “C’mon, older and more handsome.” You put your hand out to him, praying you’re not making a mistake. “Can’t celebrate without dancing a little.”

Jack doesn’t hesitate, but he’s cautious. Sure that he’s going to fumble and reveal something. “Don’t complain if I stomp on your feet.” He teases with a grin.

“I might be a bull in a China shop ” you tease, thrilled that he didn’t turn you down as you step away from the bar together. “Only one way to find out.”

“Only one way.” Jack murmurs, remembering Champ's words about getting to know you as he turns around and walks backwards onto the floor holding your hand. Before he pulls you into his arms, he twirls you around to the beat of the music.

You practically squeal with glee at the surprise of being spun around, expecting that he would be able to dance but not necessarily expecting he could move. Stevie Ray Vaughan is blasting out of the jukebox and you’re suddenly glad that one boyfriend in culinary school had been into swing dancing, because Jack definitely knows what he’s doing on a dance floor. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room while you’re talking - which they also say about politicians and other charismatic characters - and it’s magnified when he dances. There’s something carefree about him like this, or maybe it’s that he makes you feel carefree. Either way, each time he spins you back into his arms or slides his hand around your back, you swear you hold on just a little bit tighter.

It’s been a long time since Jack has danced for the pure pleasure of it. For a mission, to seduce - he’s put himself out on the dance floor. But he’s not on a mission and he has no intention of seducing you so this is almost carefree. Making him grin when you give a throaty laugh as he swings you around again.

The song changes but the tempo doesn’t, and you’re having so much fun that you barely notice the other couples that have gravitated to the dance floor with the magnetic energy you and Jack are giving off in waves. ’Sharp Dressed Man’ seems like an anthem for the men of Statesman from everything you’ve seen, and you laugh happily at the whooping and hollering from the other patrons of the bar. As long as you’re attached to Jack somehow, everything else in the world just drips away.

There’s a softness in your laugh, the way you toss your head back that makes Jack relax. Right now he’s not thinking about soulmates or his sins. Just the pure pleasure of dancing with you. There are no ulterior motives here, no games. Nothing but joy and exactly what you came here for - celebration. But when Jack spins you back into his body and your arms fall around his shoulders to hold him to you on the last beats of the song, you swear your heart has leapt to your throat.

There’s a two second change from the songs. Suddenly slowing things down and the laughter of the moment gives way as your features settle, making Jack clear his throat. “Um, uh, you want to play some pool?” He asks, knowing that it wouldn’t be a safe bet asking him to slow dance with you. He can’t get pulled into the moment and he feels like that would happen.

“I—um…sure.” Disappointment. That’s what the bitter taste in your mouth is, you realize once you process the complete hundred and eighty degree turn the moment just took. It could not be more loud and clear if he had said it in words: Jack has no romantic or sexual interest in you whatsoever. Well, fine. If that’s the way he feels about it then you’ll just compartmentalize for now and deal with it later, as your disappointment definitely is a sign that you were on your way to feeling something. You step back, not wanting to crowd him and make him uncomfortable, and nod awkwardly as you wipe your damp hands on your jeans. “Let me just…grab us another round?” You can still be friendly, after all. There’s no harm in that.

“You go pick a table sugar, I told you that you ain’t paying for drinks tonight.” Jack gives you a friendly grin, seeing the disappointment in your eyes. It echoes the same sentiment that is beating in his chest, although he knows you would feel different if you knew the truth. “You want a beer this time?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you nod, assuming he won’t have shitty taste in beer. Not if he works for a distillery.

“Be right back.” He can’t help himself, hand reaching out and squeezing your hip reassuringly before he turns to head towards the bar to get the beers. Maybe have a shot too.

Blowing out a gruff, annoyed-at-yourself breath, you turn in the opposite direction to find a pool table like Jack suggested. There’s a group of a half dozen or so men milling around with cues and drinks and you can’t quite tell which tables they’re occupying, so you figure it’s just easiest to ask. “Either of these tables free, fellas?” You ask, shoulders tipped back with your hands in your back pockets, figuring that tits subtly on display is just an easier way to cut into the conversation. It worked with the bartender, didn’t it?

The self appointed leader of the group, a tall, burly biker complete with leather riding vest and an American flag bandana on his head, looks you up and down and chuckles. “Do you want us to teach you, baby doll?” He asks, the thread of mocking obvious in his tone. Holding up his pool stick, he points to it. “You hit the balls with this. It’s a pool stick.” The other men laugh and snicker along with him.

“I’m sure you boys don’t wanna be bothered with some girl in the way, so I’ll just grab the other table for me and my friend.” It’s not worth explaining to these Neanderthals that you know how to play. That your first cooking job was in a bowling alley and pool hall that served the most amazing burgers and sandwiches of all time. The other line cooks and the chef had all been fans of the games and taught you all their tricks.

Chuckling again, he places his que on the floor and leans in. “How about you play with us, sweetheart?” He asks, grinning. “We’ll only bet small amounts.”

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. They’re assuming you can’t play and you’re absolutely certain you can hold your own — if not downright wipe the floor with them. But your pride is stinging a little from feeling like Jack rejected you, so you flick your eyes up to the leader of the group and shift your weight into one hip. “How small is small?”

Like a shark smelling blood in the water, the group of men seem to crowd around you. The talkative one rubs his chin and pretends to consider for a moment. “We’ll say…hundred bucks a ball?” He offers, like is the deal of a lifetime.

It's too good. They're too cocky and too blinded by their own ridiculous posturing to see that you have given them absolutely no reason to think you can't play. But hey - you started the morning playing patty cake with your niece, punctuated it by flying on a private jet and being offered your dream job, and now you're about to end it by whooping these idiots' asses. What does it matter that one handsome brand-new acquaintance didn't want to slow dance with you? This isn't middle school. Shaking off the urge to smirk, you put out your hand with full confidence. "You got yourself a deal."

Jack whistles to himself when he comes over, two beers and two shots in hand to see that you are around a table with the Broncos Bike Club. Assholes when they get beat and sore winners when they don’t. “Well sugar, I see we are in for some fun tonight.” He drawls as he sets the beers down on the side of the table and hands you a shot. “You know what you’re doin’?” He asks quietly.

"I wouldn't get sucked in on a hundred bucks a ball if I didn't," you whisper back, tapping your shot glass against his before downing the liquor and sighing happily at the burn. That definitely wasn't Red Label, but it was good. You'll have to remember to ask Jack what it was later.

Jack grins and gives you a small chuckle. “Lemme guess, they think you don’t know what a pool cue is? Did they call it a stick?”

"A pool stick." Nodding solemnly to keep from giggling, you pick up the beer that Jack brought you and take a sip. The choice earns a happy hum from you, and you reach for a cue and chalk from the rack on the wall. "All I did was ask if one of the tables was free."

“Morons.” Jack huffs before he moves closer and leans down towards your ear. He knows what the outcome will be but he encourages you anyway. “Kick their asses, sugar.”

"Oh, I will." Playful instinct tells you to smack a kiss to his cheek but you don't, figuring that there's no use in anything affectionate like that if he has no interest. And though you might be playful or casually flirtatious with your friends most of the time, you don't yet know if he is - so it's better to just not. Instead you chalk up your cue and turn to face the table. At a hundred dollars a ball, this is going to be a hell of a game.

“Well boys.” Jack puts his hands on his hips and chuckles. “Rack ‘em up.”

They make a big show of it, condescendingly pointing out the order of the numbers on the balls and laughing amongst themselves, and you swear it just makes you wish you were wearing heels so you could grind them into the floor with the spikes. "Are you gonna keep running your mouth or do you actually want to play?" You ask, leaning against the pool table with your beer in one hand and the cue in the other. At this point they're bordering on pissing you off.

Buster, the leader of the group, sends you a condescending smile and motions to the table. “Lady’s first.” He chuckles and looks back at his buddies. “Bet she can’t even break properly.”

Jack huffs, watching as you take a large swallow of your beer and set it down on the edge. Leaning over the table as you line up your cue, he can’t help but glance at your ass. Lord have mercy, you have a nice one. You set up on the right of the Baulk line and look up at him right before you take your shot. “Stripes.” You call before the cue ball even strikes the group and Jack watches as the 9 and 11 balls drop into the corner pocket.

“Damn.” Jack whistles, grinning at the sour looks on the boy’s faces. “Lucky break.”

"Beginner's luck," grumbles one of the other men, leaning back on a nearby table with his beer in one hand and several empty glasses nearby.

"No givin' her pointers," demands another, pointing at Jack threateningly. He saw the dandy checking you out when you bent over to break and dancing together before that. And he ain't an idiot.

Jack holds his hands up and makes a face of compliance. He’s not going to try to sway the outcome of this game, although he knows how it’s going to end up. Luckily, the bartenders and bouncers are used to Statesman agents quelling bar fights, or starting them only to finish them, so they never interfered. “Lady’s game.” He promises, watching as you walk around the table, analyzing your next shot before deciding that you would bank the cue ball off the left corner of the table to drop it into the right pocket. Jack sips his beer as you do exactly that.

Buster shifts the way he's standing with affected laziness, seeming as though he is barely paying you any attention while he actually watches to make sure you're not cheating. "At least do us the favour of bendin' further over the table when you shoot, babydoll." He chuckles, not giving a single goddamn ounce of care for manners. He takes what he wants, and right now he wants a view. You roll your eyes subtly at Jack, letting him know that you're not bothered, and intentionally squat at the table instead of bending as you check out the angle for your next shot.

Jack huffs in amusement, a small smirk on his face when he watches you sink the next two striped balls without so much as brushing by the solids.

One after the next, the striped balls drop into the pockets on command, and the men around you grow more and more flustered with every shot. By the time only the 8 ball remains, there is practically steam pouring out of their ears and one of them has all but literally thrown his hat on the ground, but you remain placid. No gloating or teasing that will make their moods worse is due here. The satisfaction of proving them wrong by winning is all you're aiming for.

“Now, if I ain’t mistaken things….” Jack drawls, rubbing his chin and staring at the table. “She sinks this, she wins. Right? Or are you wantin’ her to clear the table?”

The deliberation happens in grunts and glances, as Buster's minions decide that the best way to teach you a lesson is to have you do more of what you have amply proven that you're good at. They only need you to fuck up once for them to run you off the table with insults and heckling. "Clear it." Buster insists, somehow managing to follow the string of unintelligible sounds that the men around him made.

The smirk Jack gives you is smug and he nods. “You heard ‘em sugar.” He chortles. “You gotta clear the board to win. 15 balls.” It’s obvious that the numbskulls didn’t think about the fact that they would have to pay you an additional $700 for that, but Jack did. He sends you a small wink and an encouraging nod.

If, one day many years in the future, you're ever a famous enough chef for there to be a film of your life, you're going to insist that this pool game be a part of it. Each ball is its own geometric problem to solve, but you do it carefully, and you do it well. The expressions of sheer and utter dismay on each man's face turn to ruddy anger as you call “Eight ball, corner pocket” and sink the very last ball with a tiny tap, sending it spinning into the corner pocket that it was sitting next to. "Well, boys," you lean against the table with a satisfied grin and rest one hand on your cue. "Looks to me like this empty table is going to end up emptying some wallets."

Jack finishes the rest of his beer with a sigh, draining the mug and setting it down on the high top table a few steps from the pool tables. He knows what’s about to happen and his lasso and whip are tucked away behind his jacket, ready to go.

“You tricked us, you bitch!” Buster growls, backed up by the agreeing ‘yeah’s from the motley crew behind him. “You said you couldn’t play pool.”

“Did I?” Sure you’ve hustled a few times in your life, but you definitely didn’t tonight. Your head ticks to one side and you lean against the table easily. “Or did you just assume, because I’m a girl?”

From the way his face blanks for a moment, buddy boy knows that’s the truth but when it passes, there’s a decidedly mean look on his face. “I’m not payin’ a fucking hustling whore a fucking dime unless she’s sucking my dick.” He growls, making Jack’s jaw instantly tighten.

“Now Buster,” Jack slowly drawls out, turning their attention from you to where he is standing with his hand on his hip as he shakes his head. “You kiss your momma with that mouth?” He asks. “You owe the lady an apology and fifteen hundred dollars. Fair is fair.”

“She ain’t play fair!” The scrawniest of the group points at you like he’s about to accuse you of witchcraft. “Schemin’ cunt don’t deserve anythin’ but a lesson.”

There’s a lot of talk that Jack will let slide, especially in a rough and tumble place like this, but the boys don’t know they just fucked up. His eyes darken and go flat, the edge of a smirk on his lips has no humor in it. “You might want to take that back, Junior.” He spits, fingers itching to grab his whip. “No need for that or I’ll be teachin’ the lesson.”

“Jack…” Glancing back at the man you came here with, you can feel the change in the air here without hesitation. While it would not in any way be your first bar fight, you’re not sure that these are the kind of fellas you ever want to throw the first punch against. Not because you’re afraid of getting your ass handed to you, but because you don’t like the prospect of spending your first night in Louisville getting arrested.

“What the fuck are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?” The scrawny one - the one Jack called Junior - drawls as he reaches into his pocket. Out comes his hand again a second later, now adorned with brass knuckles. “Only thing you oughtta even be considerin’ is gettin’ this dried up cunt bitch out of our sight before we make her regret lyin’ to us.”

His chuckle is low, rusty and his own hand reaches behind his back to pull out the butt of his retractable whip. “Manners maketh man, Junior.” Jack hums. “That’s the lesson today.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Scoffs another man in the group - the broadest of all of them - as he cracks his knuckles in your direction.

“It means a Kentucky ass-whooping.” Jack declares, right before Junior decides to launch himself at Jack. With the single press of a button, the whip spirals out from the handle of the whip and Jack wastes no time cracking it through the air to wrap around the man’s throat as he yanks back on it to send the burly biker careening past him and into the table right behind Jack.

It all happens in a split second, and you’re smart enough and quick enough to dive behind Jack right before it does. You can defend yourself. You absolutely can, and have on multiple occasions. But fuck if seeing Jack step in for your honor isn’t one of the goddamn sexiest things you’ve ever experienced. Two of the bikers throw themselves at him on command, with just a glance from Buster, as Junior’s face comes into collision with the flat of the table.

A fight is like a well coordinated dance. Timing and footwork are everything. Jack flicks his wrist and the whip unwinds from around Junior’s neck to slash around and strike one of the two across the cheek, slicing open the skin as neatly as any knife. Causing the man to howl in pain and stop in his tracks as he grabs his face. The other keeps coming, making Jack smirk as he pulls back the whip and tucks it away before pulling out his lasso. He might be showing off as he twirls the rope, but he doesn’t look over for your reaction as the man charges towards him.

A barfight it’s not supposed to be sexy, you lecture yourself sternly, finding that you’re too mesmerized to even hide. The men clearly don’t feel the need to fight you, only Jack, so you’re left standing with your back to the nearest wall in awe of how fucking agile he is. But where did he—? Is that a lasso? What in the hell…

When Jack ropes the man, he drags him towards him. His fist coming out as he strikes him directly in the nose with one, two, three rapid punches.

“Fuckin pretty boy city slicker and your hustlin’ whore!” Buster’s patience has worn thin, watching his minions drop around Jack like so many fruit flies. He charges at the two of you like a bull, and for a second you’re certain he’s aiming to ram his head right into your stomach against the wall.

Jack looks over, whirling his lasso over his head now that the other man has crumpled to the floor at his feet. Snagging the table, Jack rocks back on his heel and heaves, the momentum dragging the lightweight table up and hurling it through the air towards Buster.

Ducking to your right, you dive out of the way just a second before the table connects with Buster’s side. It sends him in the other direction, propelling him into the wall and crumpling in a heap on his side as he clutches his bleeding head and howls in pain - bandana’d skull connecting with the sturdy wooden walls instead of with your abdomen and compounded with the force of splintering wood on his back.

There are two more that had decided that the better part of valor was staying out of it and Jack raises a brow at them to ask if they wanted to try their hand at him.

The older of the two remaining men clears his throat and straightens his back, knowing he doesn’t have a dog in this fight to begin with. “Pay the lady,” he orders his friend, a little under his breath.

Jack watches warily, coiling his lasso up as the other one begrudgingly pulls out a stack of bills. “Lay the bills out on the table and then get your friends out of here. They’re done for the night.” He tells them sternly. He doesn’t trust them not to try to cheat you out of the full amount and it’s also a lesson in humility.

The younger man bristles at having to be the one to pay, but he begrudgingly does as he’s ordered. Fifteen hundred dollar bills all lined up on the felt would be a big enough adrenaline rush even without everything that had just happened, and you watch him count them out carefully. Once the total you’re owed is sitting in plain sight you reach for the bills, tucking them into the front pocket of your jeans. “Well?” You nod your head toward the crumpled, groaning masses of their friends. “Pick ‘em up.”

Only when they turn to their friends and the atmosphere of the bar has turned friendlier as other patrons return to their drinks or conversations does Jack grin at you. “Weeeewh.” He huffs, reaching up and readjusting his cowboy hat with a cocky jaunt. “Kinda feelin’ like a tornado in a trailer park.” He jokes before he cocks his head towards the bar. “Want another round?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoyed that.” One eyebrow ticks up at Jack as you look around at the mess you made. One broken chair and one smashed table, with other things out of place - it could be much worse. You can’t help the way his sheepish smirk makes you smile, relieved laughter bubbling out of you. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling the pulse of excitement and attraction. Even if he’s not into you, you absolutely can’t deny being into him after that Purebred Cowboy display. “Let’s get another round. And I can give some of that cash to the bartender to pay for what we broke.”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. “It’ll go on the bill to Statesman.” He promises. “This ain’t the first rodeo in this place.”

“Hell of a first impression to make on my new employers,” you grumble ruefully, although you’re still grinning. “Or was that some kind of rite of passage I didn’t know about?”

Jack considers it for a moment and chuckles. “I guess it could be.” He shakes his head and leans against the bar again, lifting his hand to the bartender.

“You causin’ trouble again, Jack?” The bartender eyes him suspiciously. “Or did they deserve it?” He knows damn well those bikers are always trouble, but they drink their body weight and always pay, so he usually doesn’t fuss.

“They wanted to call the lady four dollar words and didn’t want to pay when they got beat at their own game.” He tells him, giving him a small shrug. “So I taught them some manners.”

“Long as they deserved it.” The bartender brushes it off. “Another round?”

Jack looks over at you for confirmation and when you nod he does as well as he turns back to the bartender. "Let's do another round of shots and beers." He tells him. "She worked up a thirst beating their asses at pool and I worked one up beating their asses."

The feel of being very pleased with yourself rolls down your spine like a drop of sweat and you sit up just a little bit taller on your barstool. Jack’s smug expression says that he’s just as proud of himself as he is of you, and you raise your shot glass to him in salute when it’s set down in front of you. “I am definitely going to like it here.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au

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samptlay · 2 months

Text

To My Sweetheart Who Carries A Wounded Heart ~ Info.

Blade & Reader's Relationship

Series Masterlist, Chapter 1 🤍, Chapter 2 🖤, Chapter 3 🤍, Chapter 4🖤, Chapter 5🤍, Chapter 6🖤, Chapter 7🤍

Being childhood best friends, they knew everything about each other and been there for all of the other's milestones.

Reader describes Blade as his soulmate and is the only person throughout the whole series who calls him "Ren."

They met in kindergarten or preschool (I forgot what I wrote for that) and the reader kept on bothering him until he acknowledged her and proved to care for her, and since then has been inseparable.

It goes deeper into detail in Chapter 2:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52453421/chapters/132797800

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/samptlay/737693316678828032/to-my-sweetheart-who-carries-a-wounded-heart-ch

Before meeting Levi, (the reader's current husband) reader would call Blade at least 4 times a week and they would go out together 2-to 3 times a week. Lots of people thought of them as a couple, but both the reader and Blade would shut down the idea.

If the two of them were honest, the attraction and romantic tension were there. There was one night that the two had made out under the influence back in high school as seniors, but the two of them both agreed to just not speak of it. (Blade thinks about it every few months.)

However, none of them had ever made a move. And this is because of the phase he went through during high school. During the beginning of their sophomore year, Blade had started to hang out with guys who thought they knew better than everyone else. Guys who thought girls were just objects made for their satisfaction. Though it didn't change the way Blade acted around the reader, he was arrogant and an overall bastard to everyone else.

A bastard with a handsome face that had ladies all over him. He started to smoke and drink (not enough for him to be an alcoholic or anything, this is what also led to the make-out sesh with the reader one night) He had dozens of girlfriends throughout those years and cheated on them all. Even when he found someone he was actually interested in, he couldn't help but give in to the temptation of other females. So in summary, he was a total player who couldn't commit himself to someone for anything.

This behavior sadly faded into his early years of adulthood. He had different girls running in and out of his apartment every few weeks.

*Switching to 2nd POV, sorry.

You always scolded him about it, worried he would catch something or end up knocking a girl up though he always insisted he played it safe. He admired you even more during those times, because you never seemed to judge him for it. However, you were off limits, out of reach.

This also happened to be around the time you and Levi got married. Blade knew he couldn't commit himself to you, so he didn't have anything to say when someone else swept you off your feet. That doesn't mean he didn't feel anything at all. He took at all the frustration of not being there for you on other women, and got into a bad drinking habit.

Not exactly an alcoholic, but still. You let Blade know you would avoid being alone with him for a long while until you completely have your partners trust to come see him alone. Though Blade understood, it still made his heart ache.

It wasn't until he lost his job in a very risky project he wasn't even supposed to be working on in his company, that he sobered up. (Something like in the game.) During this period, he only had enough savings to last him 4-5 months but it would run out quickly. You had tried to offer him help but Levi wouldn't let you, saying you were being "too nice" and on your way to "giving Blade the wrong idea.".

When I eventually got to one month of unemployment, he was at the gym trying to gather his thoughts while in his own little bubble until a man named "Elio" approached him. Apparently Blade had been watched for about a year according to him and had no idea. Elio said that he knew Blade was running out of cash and offered him a job with a salary that would have people bending backs for. The requirements of the job were tight and required his whole life to fall into Elio's hands, but Blade was desperate and broke.

He didn't have time to entertain women or get wasted. The work was definitely sketchy, and he knew all the things he weren't all legal. He's been under-cover, stolen, fought, involved in fraud and more. All of this seemed to wake him up to true adult life and look back at his past self in absolutely disgust. Of course, you were stoked and over the moon about his new found maturity and even seemed to be around more, just because you felt a lot more comfortable & secure. with this Blade.

Yet, you had no idea what caused the change and always pressed him about it, a little concerned about his choice of field since you swore that Golden Watch he had on was more than both you & his savings combined. Each & every time, he gently shut you down and avoided the topic, deciding that this would be the one wall you'd never be able to break with him. After two years, you let it go and to be honest it caused a small strain in between the two of you since you though he didn't trust you anymore, which wasn't true. He was just silenced.

But you two were still each other's favorite person. Even if you were married, Blade was your soulmate. You've texted him at least 3 times a week throughout your whole life and make sure he never feels forgotten, vice-verse.

But as of the last three years, you seemed to be getting worn down more and more, day-by-day. Each month, the amount of times you'd call him crying because of arguing with your husband increase and he swears that he would have kidnapped you himself up and out of that place long ago if you'd let him.

End of 2nd POV.

In conclusion, Blade & Reader are strictly platonic even though there is little romantic tension, it's more of a click when it comes to the two. They never judge each other for anything and if one party calls, the others is zooming over there in an instant, no matter who there partners are.

Note this, Blade has always wished him and Reader had gone out in their early highschoolers years. Then perhaps his whole life would be turned around, as well as having a ring on his own finger.

And if you weren't married as of now, he would have proposed the moment he left his past self behind. But that's not the case. So for now, he'll admire you from where he currently is.

But Reader knows he loves her. And Blade knows reader loves him too.

Taglist: @msun1c0rn @anime1fan2 @skyl8ver, @umi-adxhira, @lovingnahida @immahuman @faellell @uhfhfhfhf @ssecylia @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @markexplanation @meowmeowraven @xdrin

#hsr x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #fem reader #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fanfic #relationship #childhood friends

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daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months

Text

Support System pt. 5

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4

Roy Kent x Reader

I'm on a roll. Roy Kent making me feel things 🥵 This one is a bit angsty but buckle up - we're getting to the good stuff soon!

Yes, this is the second update in one day... what of it? That picture of his thighs made me do it.

Chapter 5

The rest of the week goes as you’d originally planned for the most part. Lexie was absolutely fine to go to school the next day and you’d already worked out your work plans based on when you were actively trying to avoid Roy. Now, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to do that. By Thursday, you could feel a low ache inside but couldn’t put a finger on it. Work hadn’t been happy that you’d ducked out on Monday afternoon, but you’d tried to fight your corner. It became clearer that they weren’t the business you wanted to work for.

It had left an annoying feeling behind that no matter what you did, you weren’t enough for them. So much so, that by Wednesday, you took in a letter of resignation. They made some noise about becoming more flexible but not wanting to alienate other people who worked for them - they called it ‘special treatment’. You’d argued that everyone should be given more flexibility and more support in their work-life balance - no matter what that life outside of work looked like. They’d painted you as the bad guy and made it look like Lexie was the reason for needing flexibility when, really, you wanted the same for everyone in the business. Giving two months' notice terrified you, it accelerated the need to find a new job. You had savings, but they wouldn’t cover your bills forever. Every night saw you scouring the job sites for something as close to Richmond as possible. But all of that wasn’t the cause of the ache. It was more of an anticipation. Butterflies at rest. You’re approaching the school doors on Thursday afternoon, getting ready to join the queue of people picking up, when you see both Sara and Roy. The butterflies are suddenly up in arms, and the ache explodes into something more. Oh shit.

“Hey! Has your week picked up? Roy said he had to rescue you on Monday, was Andy a total dickbag?”

“Oh god he was horrible, I have no idea looking back now why the fuck I married him. And my week is bloody terrible - I quit my job.”

“What?!”

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I couldn’t carry on the way I was, it was a nightmare. With both them and Andy not being remotely supportive it just makes life so difficult.”

“What are you gonna do?” Roy frowned.

“I’m looking for something closer to Richmond if possible. If not, then the city is fine but the company has got to be a bit more progressive than where I am now. Trouble is there’s not much call for deputy Directors.”

“What about skipping the deputy bit?” Sara asked. You shake your head,

“Don’t think it’ll work. Typically that would be too much - more hours, more demanding. I love my work and I can handle demanding - like, really demanding. But I desperately need the flexibility so I can be around for Lexie.” Sara nodded.

“I get you. You should get yourself a Roy, they’re invaluable.” She poked her brother lovingly. You ignore the comment and the fuck off he responds with. “Easter holidays next week! Are you doing anything?”

“I was going to try and go away for the day somewhere. Jump on the train down to Brighton or something?”

“That’s a great idea! I’m off for a couple of days - we should all go.” The girls pour out of school hand in hand and you agree with Sara to plan a beach day trip. In the meantime though, the girls demand another sleepover. “I’m working honey, but if Uncle Roy can take you then of course you can go. As long as it’s ok with Lexie’s mum.”

“Course it is. I’d love to have you, Phoebe. Friday or Saturday, whichever is easiest for you.” You tell Roy.

“Do Saturday and you can all come to the match on Sunday?”

“Yeah, ok, we’d like that.” You smile and the butterflies go crazy.

~~~~~~~

Lexie insists on a full on pajama party for her sleepover, she makes you bring blankets and pillows downstairs and banishes you to any other room - preferably the kitchen so you can keep them supplied with snacks. By the time Phoebe arrives at 4pm, she’s transformed the living room into some sort of Disney inspired boudoir.

“Come in.” You smile at them both, opening the door wide. Phoebe heads straight for the living room and the door is firmly closed. “Well… I guess they don’t need me.”

“What are you going to do instead?” Roy asks curiously.

“I have a book and a bottle of wine in the kitchen, that’s me all set.” Giggles and bangs sound from the next room, “Not sure I’ll be getting much sleep though. Beer? Wine?”

“Yeah go on then.” He follows you to the kitchen and picks up your book before he’s even sat down. After reading the blurb he takes a picture of the cover.

“You can have it when I’m done.” You offer, turning down the speaker which had been blasting Taylor Swift a little too loudly.

“Not you as well,” he pointed at the speaker. “This is all I get to listen to.”

“They’re 8. She’s like their queen. And yes, I can’t help listening to it as well.” You smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I can’t promise Anna and Elsa will join us, but you’re still welcome to stick around.”

“Thanks.” Watching you potter around the kitchen for a while, he picks up the book, makes sure to save your place and flips to the beginning. Assuming he’s engrossed, you concentrate on cutting bell peppers and onions for fajitas, the silence is comfortable, he’s so quiet you pretty much forget he’s there. The music still plays in the background,

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life. And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch,” you sing softly, bopping to the music. It’s not until you go into the pantry under the stairs for spices and see him at the table, watching you, that you remember he’s there. “Fajitas ok?” You stop short and clear your throat. There’s a smile just bubbling in the corner of his mouth, waiting to break free.

“Forget you had company?”

“Fuck off. Maybe.”

“Fajitas are great, thanks.” You forget shyness and awkwardness. It’s your new favourite song so despite his presence, you carry on as you were with slightly less dancing. The girls are persuaded to join you for dinner, even helping you with the homemade guacamole. Roy puts up with the three of you singing along to Taylor Swift at various pitches. “You sound like a bunch of fucking cats.” Phoebe responds by singing loudly down his ear with her wooden spoon microphone.

When the girls are settled with popcorn and a film, you see him to the door. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Last week. You called yourself stupid. Fucking repeatedly actually, and you’re wrong.”

“Oh. Umm… thanks. Felt pretty stupid. Anyway, like I said, I made a mistake.”

“Yep. Begged me to forget it.” He said quietly. The way he lingered on his words had your heart thumping and your body flooding with desire. You’re sure you must be trembling, your thighs press together and you swear you could come apart just from the way he’s looking at you. But then the girls are dancing through the hall and it’s a sharp reminder that you’re not alone. You see the disappointment flicker in his eyes right before he gives you a small smile, “goodnight. Call me if Phoebe starts playing up. Tickets are waiting for you for the match tomorrow.” You nod, not sure you can trust your voice to stay steady, not really sure you can trust yourself to put a full sentence together.

“Bye.” You whisper.

~~~~~~

“Lexie! Come on, we need to go and get the train!”

“I can’t find my goggles!”

“You don’t need goggles, darling, the sea is going to be freezing! I know it’s a heatwave but I don’t expect much swimming!” Who were you kidding, two 8 year olds in a heatwave would absolutely be getting in the sea at the first opportunity. You had a beach bag packed with suncream, towels and everything else you could possibly need. You and Sara had planned together so that you didn’t duplicate and have too much to carry. “Lexie! Let’s go!” She bounces down the stairs and straight out the door, leaving you trailing after her. At the station, Sara and Phoebe are already waiting and you're surprised to see Roy with them. “Sorry, couldn’t get Lexie out the door!” You hadn’t seen Roy since the night the girls had their sleepover, apart from seeing him down at pitchside for the football match. It was Tuesday and the last couple of days had felt like an eternity. You feel his eyes looking you up and down as you approach the platform. You get on the tube into the city and change for the train to Brighton. The Easter holidays meant everyone had a similar idea and the trains are packed and hot. Your sundress and hat are no match for the heat, you have to take your hat off and use it to fan both you and Sara. You’ve given the girls the only two seats you could find so the three of you stand to one side to keep the aisle clear.

“Fuck this. I should have driven.”

“Where’s the fun in that!” Sara laughed.

“How are you not hot?” You ask, he’s still in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thought I was?” He asked quietly while Sara was distracted looking back to check on the girls. You roll your eyes and shake your head, turning away from him to look out of the window. “You look lovely.” He adds, putting a hand on your hip as the train sways you from side to side. He doesn’t move it once the train has steadied. When you get there, you follow the crowds down to the beach, the girls running slightly ahead and Sara and Roy either side of you. As you get closer to the beach, Sara steps in between the girls and takes their hand to keep them close. You get caught up in a group of people but you can still see Sara up in front. Through the crowd, a hand takes yours and pulls you in. Roy interlinks your fingers. “Don’t get fucking lost, we’ll never find you.” He says. Sara waves that she’s found a space and you make your way in her direction, not letting go of his hand. The second you put Lexie’s hat back on her head after smothering her in suncream, she grabs Phoebe’s hand and runs to the sea.

“Stay in sight!” Sara tries shouting after them but it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve heard.

“I’ll go,” you offer with a grimace, “let’s see how fucking cold it is.” You kick off your sandals and pull your sundress over your head, revealing a royal blue swimsuit underneath.

“Aha!” Sara stops you and throws a bottle in your direction, “cream first. I’ll go and find us some drinks. Beers?”

“Ooh yes please.” She goes off in the direction of the beach vendors. You spray your shoulders and arms with the sticky cream, trying to get as much of your back as you can. Once you’ve finished, you pass the bottle to Roy, avoiding his gaze.

“Be careful,” he says softly, you can’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, fortunately. You squeal as the water hits your legs,

“It’s fucking freezing!” You shout to Sara as she returns with three bottles of beer and two of fizzy pop. She leaves everything with Roy and joins you as you watch the girls play mermaids in the cool, shallow water. “This was such a good idea. I needed this.” You hold your hat and look up to the sky, basking in the warm sunshine.

“Such a good idea,” she agrees. “Though I thought Roy’s brain was going to short circuit when you pulled that bloody dress off! God, it was bad enough when you came down onto the platform earlier - I think he stopped breathing! But then with that underneath,” she gestures up and down your body and whistled,

“Oh don’t be daft.”

“I’m not, you look great. And Roy thinks so too.”

“Hmm if you say so.”

“I’m his sister. I have met every woman he’s ever brought home. Every model, actress, singer… you name it. Back then, when he was younger, he did it because he knew it was what was expected of a hotshot footballer for Chelsea. You get the hot girls. But fuck, they were boring. He was boring when he was with them! Since he’s gotten older, he doesn’t give a shit. Dates whoever he wants. Keeley was lovely but not quite right for him. He might look and act like a grumpy fucker, but he has so much love to give and he wants to be loved. He’s intense, I know. But when he finds the right person, god she’s never going to want for anything.” You’ve both waded into the water up to your thighs, your hands drift across the top of the water.

“I’ve never been loved like that.” You admit.

“Me either. Be pretty fucking good wouldn’t it?” She laughs. "Also, we definitely deserve it."

"Oh god, we really fucking deserve it!"

~~~~~~~

You manage to persuade the girls to get out of the water for a bit so you can get food. While you've been gone, Roy has dug the girls beach towels from the bags, changed into shorts and is reading. You'd happily thank every god, deity, or lucky star for the sunglasses you're wearing because your eyes are drawn to his legs as if you haven't seen him play football for as long as you can remember. The sun dries you quickly so you pull your dress back on. "Who wants food?" You ask the girls, who are eager to agree. "I see chips. I'll be back as soon as I can, Lexie, be good for Sara and Roy please."

"I'll help." Roy's on his feet before Sara who wiggles her toes in the sand and waves you both off. It's a short walk to the beach bar, but it's busy so Roy gets you both a beer while you wait. Space is limited but there's one side of a picnic bench spare for you to share. Your knees knock together as people squeeze by and there's hardly enough room for you to sit side by side. He turns on the bench to put one leg either side of the seat and you mirror him. Your back is to his chest but you don't lean back into him. His fingertip traces the strap of your dress from the top of your shoulder down to where it joined the back of your dress, across the centre of your back and up the other strap. His touch makes you shiver, even in the heat of the sun. "You need more cream, you're going pink," he said, "and you have freckles here." His knuckle grazes a line from the back of your ear into the dip of your neck and it's all you can do to breathe normally. The waitress comes over with a tray full of food cartons which you accept, grateful to give your hands something to do. You get up from the bench and hold the tray in one hand so you can offer the other to Roy while he bears his weight on his bad knee to get up from the table. You did it with such little fuss or acknowledgement that he's left staring after you as you start back down the beach to Sara and the girls. You find shade in the afternoon and take it in turns sitting with the bags to get out of the heat while the girls barely stop for more suncream and water. By the time you all pile back into the train home, they're exhausted and you're not much more awake. The return journey is quieter so you get a table with 4 seats. The girls squeeze into one and fall asleep almost instantly. Sara curls into Phoebe and watches out the window. She smiles across at you,

"Such a fucking great idea." She repeats your comment from earlier.

"We're stopping over next time," you laugh quietly so you don't wake the kids, "I'm knackered!" She agrees and lets her eyes close. You do the same thing, your head coming to rest on Roy's shoulder. As you get back into the city, he brushes the hair from your eyes,

"Time to wake up, nearly home." Your initial reaction is to push your face further into him, but this only makes him laugh. "Come on, and you," he kicks Sara under the table. No one is happy to be woken up. You drag yourselves to the underground, into a train back to Richmond and finally into Roy's car. It's not even that late - but it's been a long day. He drops Phoebe and Sara off first and then makes his way to yours. Living between the two has been a big bonus in terms of how much they've helped out with Lexie. She's asleep in the car, so he picks her up and carries her up the path. Once you've unlocked the house, he puts her on the sofa while you dump the overflowing bags in the hallway - forgotten hats and stuffed toys from the arcade spilling out.

"Beer?" You whisper from the doorway, and he nods. You drink them standing side by side in the kitchen. You can't wait for a shower, your skin feels sticky with suncream, sea water, and the ice cream and sweets you've been eating all day. He pushes you gently with his arm,

"Today was fucking brilliant."

"It really was. You must have spent a fortune winning those toys for the girls."

"Worth it. Won one for you as well, don't forget."

"How could I? I've always wanted a neon pink rubber duck." You grin. "It can keep me company in the bath."

"You're fucking killing me." He mutters, shaking his head.

"What?"

"I've had to watch you in that swimsuit all fucking day and then you go and say shit like that?" He puts his empty bottle down and turns to stand in front of you, one hand either side of you on the kitchen counter. You're boxed in, but he's giving you enough space. You can tell he's giving you just enough time to say no, if that's what you want to do. You hold his gaze and don't say anything, the tiniest glance at his mouth is all the confirmation he needs to take the same step forward as he did a couple of weeks before. This time when his nose brushes against yours, it's less timid. He captures your mouth in a hot and fierce kiss. You turn your head just so, giving him better access and the hands that had stayed patiently on the counter were on you in half a second. One up in your hair and the other on your hip, your waist, the small of your back, bringing you as close as possible. Your hands move up his arms and around his neck, nails dragging through his hair. You've never been kissed like this before, never. It's so full of longing that it takes your breath away. His body presses against you, pushing you into the counter, his good knee between yours. Your head falls back so you can try to catch your breath but it's impossible when he moves to kiss a path down your neck. You can't help but moan as he nips at your sunburnt skin. You want more, so much more, but you know Lexie is only in the next room and the last thing you'd want is for her to wake up. The kiss has you in pieces already, it's intoxicating. He comes back to your mouth again for a slightly tamer kiss, "you taste like sunshine," he smiles. You open your eyes just to see it and it's beautiful. Both breathless, he takes the smallest step back. Somewhere in the hallway, your phone rings, bringing you both back to reality. You let it ring, reluctant to move away from his touch, eyes still only on each other, when Lexie brings the phone in with a big yawn.

"It's daddy." She says, handing it to you, and you see the defeat in Roy's eyes.

~~~~~

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent smut #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff

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alice-angel12x · 11 months

Text

Death isn't so scary pt.2

Lilia x Death! reader (Part 1)

Somewhat takes place during ch.7 in the dream scape.

It was a calm moonlight night, and Y/n Death sat patiently under a lone willow tree. Under its swaying branches was a simple table, where Y/n sat and waited for their company.

As they listened to the breeze, a masked figure came up. He wore a goblin mask and a general uniform of the Briar Valley.

"Took you a while, I was beginning to think you stood me up," Y/n smiled slightly.

"I would never do such a thing. It was difficult escaping the party I was at. Yet I am here now," Lilia smiles as he removes his mask.

"I'm surprised you would even want to celebrate your resignation from General with me. And not with the queen and your fellow soldiers," Y/n said.

"Well, I will still be working close to the royal family. And I'll still see my friends often. It's you, the one I see by chance," Lilia smiled and takes a sip of tea.

"Why would you want to be in the company of me?" Y/n asked as they watched Lilia enjoy the little meal.

Not too far away two figures peeked out from behind some trees. And only one of them could see a white bird circle around Lilia. A blue-fire Tanuki, a green-haired half-fae, and a silver-haired human watched from afar.

"Silver are you sure this is master Lilia's dream?" Sebek asked Siver.

"I am certain, this is father's dream. But why is he dreaming about having a tea party with Y/n?" Sebek asked. " They wouldn't be alive all those centuries go."

"They would. Y/n has been around since like... Forever," Grim said.

"What are you talking about?" Sebek asked.

"I wish Y/n was in the dream with us to explain," Sliver sighed.

"I am here, just not in a form you can see me," Said Y/n's disembodied voice.

"What! Y/n? Where are you?" Grimm asked as he looked around for her.

"I am incapable of dreaming. So I can't enter the dream Plane. So this is the most I can do. So, What is happening in the dream?" Y/n's voice asked again.

"It's lord Lilia's dream, and it seems he's dreaming about having a tea party with you to celebrate his retirement from General. I think a couple of decades after the War," Sebek explained.

"Are you a fae yourself Y/n?" Silver asked. "How else would you be there around that time."

"I am no Fae. I have been around for a long time, even longer than the oldest Fae," Y/n's voice said. " I... I am not human."

"S-so did you really have a tea party with him, like in this dream?" Silver asked.

"I did, though I think Lilia may be dreaming with rose-tinted lens, 'cause I did not dance with him," Y/n voice.

The boys looked back to see that Lilia had led Dream Y/n into a waltz under the star-lit sky. Dream Y/n had a faint smile as they let Lilia lead them in the dance. who had a faint blush

"He looks really happy dancing with You," Grimm commented.

"That was something I could never understand about Lilia. He was a popular bachelor himself. Yet he would always brush those admirers aside," Y/n's voice commented. "Along with-"

-----------

"Oh? Why are you moving to a cottage in the dark woods?" Dream Y/n asked Lilia.

"Oh, just... Wanted a change of paste, and a break from the hustle and bustle of the kingdom," Lilia smiled sheepishly.

"Hmm, well I think that is a lonely kind of place you have chosen for yourself," Dream Y/n said gently.

"I don't think it would be too bad, since I know it's a common stomping ground for some friends," Lilia smiles at Dream Y/n.

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

"Fath- I mean Lord Lilia seems very infatuated with you?" Silver looked to the sky.

"He is?" Y/n's voice asked in confusion.

Sebek and Grim face-palm at that.

#twisted wonderland #Death!reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia x reader #death au #origin au

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jjuwuni · 2 months

Text

caught in his web ; choi yeonjun ch. 3 | LIVING ARRANGEMENTS

pairings — yeonjun x afab reader

genre — smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama

word count (for this chapter) — ~2.6k

summary — You thought you’d be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong.

And what’s worse? He’s your new best friend's boyfriend.

Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.

MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.

warnings — almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..

A/N: BACK WITH ANOTHA UPDATE ! this one is pretty inch resting hahah so i hope you guys have fun ! as always lmk what you think of it 🤗 always love hearing your thoughts and pls let me know if you want to be added into the taglist ^^

current taglist : @soobadooba , @flowerbe0m , @lix-stray , @beomtese , @yxnjvnnie , @healingpage , @hihello-pinky , @kazscara , @bibibun , @txtistheloml , @jungwonismybias, @boba-beom, @jwnghyuns, @a-l-i-y-a

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Fixing your jacket over your ensemble for the day, you quickly head down the stairs and into the kitchen for a bite or two of some PB&J toast. And as you sipped on some scorching hot tea, you couldn’t help but rethink the past events that occurred the past few weeks.

For one, Yeonjun was true to his words, thankfully. He didn’t show up the whole weekend, and judging by an exchange of messages you and Soobin had, he and the other guys went on a hiking trip to Jeju, as well as some weekend fun by the beach.

Your mom was nowhere to be found as expected, as it was Fashion Week in Italy, and so she would definitely be gone for a while.

You wondered what kind of peculiar events awaited you that day as you sauntered out towards the circular driveway of the house, waiting for the driver and your usual ride to park up in front of you and finally take you to school.

You were busy catching up on all the notifications from your phone and refreshing your instagram feed on your phone when the sound of a boisterous, revving engine sound caused you to look up.

It was a black Bugatti - the limited edition kind.

And you knew instantly who it belonged to.

Stepping back a few paces as the car made a smooth turn around the driveway, you were greeted by Yeonjun’s cheeky face as soon as he rolled down the passenger seat window.

“Your ride today, ma’am.” He said, lips quirking into a provoking smile.

You stood there dumbfounded as per usual, mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape. It took you at least ten seconds more before you were able to string words together, “Wha- But- The driver..”

“Told him he could take the day off. I’ll be your chauffeur today, princess. Now hop in or you’ll be late for class and we know you don't like being late.”

And you hate it knowing he’s right.

You hurriedly slip in the passenger seat and strap yourself in, huffing out a breath of air and looking back up at him, trying to keep a stern face through it all. “Fine. Drive away, Choi.”

The car ride was quiet at first, but you and your big mouth just couldn’t stand the awkward silence. “So, how was Jeju?”

“How did you- Oh-” Yeonjun said, pausing a while. “Soobin told you?”

You nod once, “Did you have fun?”

“I guess so.. It’s always a fun time with the guys, plus Kai is back so it was cool.”

“Really? Mister Hyuka himself?” My eyes widened at the mere mention of the name, “He’s back from Switzerland? Waaah.. That’s awesome. I have to say hi later on today then.” You rambled on, hellbent on filling the awkward silence.

Hyuka was the son of the Vice Prime Minister of Korea, which entailed that he was to get the best education there is as he planned to follow in his father’s footsteps and pursue politics in the future as well.

“Yeah, he’s about to move schools so he’s just finishing up his courses in MOA U before going to Law school overseas.” Yeonjun added, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rests on his thigh, sneaking glances at you every now and then.

After about a minute or two, the car entered through the gates of your University. You usually get dropped off in a parking lot and you hang around there before your classes start, chit-chatting with your friends.

As soon as the Bugatti pulled up towards the space, you could see both Yeonjun's friends and yours huddled around another luxury car.

“Oh, he must be here today too.” You said ecstaticly, it was obvious that his homecoming called for a reunion of sorts.

All of your friends’ attention though shifted over to Yeonjun’s noisy and flashy car. As mentioned before, it was a limited edition, only about ten are made every year, so it's normal for people to do a double-take whenever it passes.

It not only had a cool-looking exterior but it was also built for those drag racing types.

You could hear their surprised gasps and see how astonished they were as you got out of the car.

“Hey guys,” You greeted everyone with an awkward smile, not really sure what to say, you just worked on walking up to the youngest male in the group and welcoming him back with one of your tightest hugs. “Hyuka, good to see you~”

The handsome guy ruffled your hair as soon as you both pulled away from the contact, “Great to be back y/n, even if it's just for a while. You’re looking as wonderful as ever. Oh- But- Why did you come with Jjunie hyung?” He asked a question that was probably on everyone’s minds.

“We live together now.” Yeonjun did the talking, his tone almost announcing and his voice loud enough for the whole school to hear, saying it like it was just some random occurrence (which made you scoff, to be honest).

“WHAT?!” The group collectively replied, some in a surprised tone, others amused.

“Tsk...” You let out a frustrated expression, “His dad, my mom, remember?” You tried to give the simplest explanation, pointing to him and you alternately. “I don’t know, they’re renovating their place or something so my crazy mom decided to invite them to stay over.”

“But babe-” Chaewon interjected, glancing behind my shoulder where Yeonjun stood, almost as if you were transparent. “I thought you were going to let me ride your new Bugatti first.”

“Ah sorry, Chae.” He replied in a half-assed pleading tone as if knowing he’d get away with it no matter what he said. “It’s just- the driver decided to take a day off and y/n's mom asked me if I could bring her to school.” He tried to explain.

This prompted you to look at him with a confused expression, I thought he asked the driver to take the day off? So it was my mom who wanted us to drive together to school the whole time? He could have just said that. What’s the truth?

Before you were able to process things any further, the school bell rang loud - causing the group to go your separate ways and head to first-period courses.

When that little dweeb Yeonjun suggested we’d have a house party in “his” house for Hyuka's return (literally he called it his home and it was annoying, to say the least), you couldn’t say no.

And so, after school that day and with everyone finishing their classes, you found yourself entertaining the whole group at the estate.

“Nice place y/n..” Hyuka told me as he walked further into the huge receiving room.

“Why thank you!” You said, cheekbones raising. “My mom’s big on interior decorating. And- yah- you two!” Something from your periphery caught your eye, as you see Beomgyu and Taehyun fighting for the remote control of the sound system, amid a wrestling match on the couch.

“If you break anything, you’re buying it.” You joked around.

After an hour, everyone was engaged in their own thing. The boys were fooling around out back in the pool area, and the girls were huddled around your mother’s workshop in her office- looking at her different mood boards and potential designs for her new line.

But for one reason or another, you couldn’t find Yeonjun. He wasn’t in his room, and you know this because you checked a few times.

There was one room that was quite hidden in the estate, and you then wondered if he had managed to discover it.

You trekked over to the music hall on the far side of the second floor of the house. And as you were nearing it, you could hear the soothing melody of the piano resonating in your ears.

The sound grew louder as you neared it, and as you opened the door to the music room, there he was, in front of the piano.

His eyes were closed as Yeonjun seemed immersed in the music he was playing.

And at that moment you saw something different in him. It wasn’t his manly side, nor his childish one- no.

It was something entirely different. There was a vulnerability to this.

That alone drew you in, you took light steps across the room and towards the grand piano as if hypnotized by his music.

It’s been a while, but you knew the piece he was playing.

And so, picking up the violin from the stand at the other side of the room as quietly as you could, you started to play alongside him. His playing halted for a few moments as soon as he heard the sound of the violin weaving into the pianos, he then turned to check where the sound was coming from.

You flashed a small smile as your gazes met, nodding towards him and urging him to continue.

And that he did, and for a moment or two you were actually getting along well- all thanks to the music you were creating.

As with all good things though, the song came to an end. And you readily put the violin down atop the piano.

“I didn’t know you could play that well, y/n.” He said with a grin.

You took your seat beside him in front of the piano, laughing a little. “Yeah well, mom made sure I was well-versed in a lot of instruments. But hey- I didn’t know the bad boy of MOA U knew how to play, too.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, it seems.” He replied, nudging me with his elbow.

“You’re right.” You agreed without hesitation, “I don’t think I can ever read you. I’m usually good at that, you know? I’m a very observant person.. But, with you, ah- You are a puzzle, Choi Yeonjun.”

“Would you... like to solve me?” Yeonjun asked in a teasing manner. But even though that was the case, you honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

But as you looked into his clear eyes, you could see that defenseless side that you saw a few moments ago once more. And you hated how it made your heartbeat pick up in pace.

“I think I would actually, only if you let me.” You said, not knowing if it was the three flutes of wine before you stumbled into the music room doing the talking at that point.

“I-” He seemed taken aback by your answer because you’ve never heard him stutter like that, but he managed to break out into a grin nonetheless. “I’d like that..”

Suddenly, there was an air of tension between you two.

It was so thick, almost to the point where no one could break it. You had so many thoughts running in your head so suddenly.

Has this kid’s charms actually gone through me?

Am I developing some sort of weird… crush?

But our parents, and Chaewon…

Unbeknownst to you until that point though, your heads were merely inches away from each other- with his face oh so dangerously close to yours.

And there you were able to marvel at how damn attractive Yeonjun really was.

You had a sudden yearning- something you've never felt before around him. You wanted to feel how his cheeks felt against your palms and imagined how soft his lips would feel against your own.

You couldn’t take it anymore, it was either you lean in or back out.

There were only two choices.

But you chose the latter.

Clearing your throat, you stood up from your seat and slowly paced back. “We.. We should probably head back. It’s Hyuka’s party, we shouldn’t miss it.” You said, and before he was able to decide for himself, you found yourself darting out of the music room like the coward that you were.

Was it a smart decision to do what you just did? Perhaps.

But was it something you regretted? The short answer would be yes as well.

"Looks like you're having it rough, y/n.. More so than usual." Giselle pointed out as you sat across her from the table of the cafe that the following morning.

You let out a sigh, "You're right about that. I'm having a really weird experience right now."

Giselle was someone you met in High School. At the time, your mom decided not to enroll you in any prestigious arts High School of any sort, but wanted you to be as normal as possible and live out the most normal life I could.

And so with that thought in mind, you studied in a private all-girls school. It was lowkey, and you were sheltered for a good bit of time. This also explains why you met everyone in the circle you have now so late.

All of them: from Soobin to Yeonjun, and even Chaewon and the other girls, have known each other since they were all kids.

Giselle was one of the few friends you made there though back in your younger years, and though she wasn't on the same societal circle as you, you two got along really well and became best friends who still keep in constant contact with each other.

There's actually a benefit to her not being in your current circle- because then you get to talk to her about all the problems I'm facing in MOA U. And she can do the same, considering that you don't go to her university.

"So what's up, buttercup? Want to talk about it?” She asked childishly, it was one of the things that endeared you to her.

You laughed heartily, "Mm.. I don't even know where to start." You let out a sigh.

"Okay so when you texted me to meet, you said something about your mom? Maybe we can start from there and work your way towards everything else." She suggested while stirring the contents of her teacup, and you obliged without much second thought.

"Okay so.." You paused to take a sip out of your iced coffee, "Mom's seeing someone now. And if you ask me, they're taking it too fast.. Like, increasingly fast. Borderline crazy almost. She has him and his son living in our house."

Giselle's eyes widened with shock, "Really!?"

"Yup, and the worst part is.." You paused for a moment or two as if you needed to build up the moment even more. "The guy she’s seeing is... Choi Minjun."

Your friend's palm slapped over her own mouth as she gasped, "W-what! Choi Minjun? As in the Choi Minjun of the Choi Group of Companies?! Then.. Then that must mean, you're living with.."

"His son, yes." You said with a groan.

"Oh wow." Your friend grew silent for a while, as if she was trying to process it. "Okay so, how is it? Like living with him and such. I heard he can be handful - at least, based on what I read on social media."

Sucking in your lower lip and piecing your thoughts together, you then spoke. "I don't know. I was always quite nonchalant about Yeonjun, you know? The minute I saw him the first time and how all the girls were going gaga over him, I knew he was some stuck-up rich kid who only cares about getting girls and flaunting his wealth." Your voice trailed off.

"...But?" Giselle added as if knowing what you were going to say next.

"But.." You took in a sharp breath, "He is all that, yes. But I can't help but think he's more than what he shows to people. I saw this .. thing in his eyes last night. A kind of vulnerable side to him I wouldn’t have guessed existed, and frankly, it scared me. More than his bad boy image can ever scare me, to be honest.”

"And you're scared you might fall for him in the midst of this.. complicated arrangement, huh?"

Your eyelids shut tightly as you took another swig from the coffee.

Though you found yourself nodding not long after.

"Well, my advice is.. Follow what your heart says. Don't deprive yourself of happiness, y/n.. No one deserves that." She said so casually like you just didn't confess that there is a possibility that you could finally be giving in to the hype around a certain guy who happens to be living with you.

"I- I guess.. But.. But it's too early to tell. I just want to get this out of my system and I thought you're the last person who will judge me for it." You affirmed.

It was true, if you told any one of your university friends about this, it'd probably reach either Chaewon or worse, Yeonjun himself and you definitely don't want that happening.

Like, ever.

#𓆩*𓆪 : series ; cihw #𓆩*𓆪: yeonjun #tomorrow x together #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #yeonjun hard hours #txt hard thoughts #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #kpop boys #kpop bg #kpop scenarios #fanfic #fanfiction

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anki-of-beleriand · 5 months

Text

Bad Liar ch.7

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Author's note: Here is a new chapter and right now there is no place to run, many secrets are out and it is time for everyone to start playing a part in the game.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 7

Whispered secrets

The Innovation Classroom had been a donation by the Bishop Family a couple of years ago. The main goal was to provide the school with the latest technological gadgets and programs so their students could always be up to date offering their students the right tools to keep up with their education. Everyone had access to the computers and the red of the school, but in reality only a few select students excel in the art of encrypted information.

America hated pne of those peoople, mainly because ever since she arrived at school her main goal had been to hit on a very clueless, and very exasperating Kate Bishop. But, after the long conversation she held with the team, America knew this would be their only chance to get some answers.

Everyone had their attention on Riri Williams.

The young woman chewed on the gun in her mouth, her brows knitted together while her brown eyes pierce every member of the advance class with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. Riri stopped for a moment on America, before her eyes set on Kate who was bouncing restlessly right behind her best friend.

Kate tensed lightly, her heart beating fast just as Riri smirked winking at her. Kate felt her cheeks warm, and America cleared her throat while positioning herself in the line of vision of Riri. The black-skinned woman chuckled tilting her head while resting her elbows on the table arching her back pinning America with her eyes.

"So, you guys want me to hack into personal files, get information from a private company and… What do I have in exchange?"

Riri could tell her question caught everyone in the group off guard, they were not expecting such an answer and this was the perfect opportunity for her to make the right move.

"Money wouldn't be an issue." America intervened stepping forward.

"Money can't buy everything in life, Chavez." Riri rolled her eyes leaning forward while scratching the back of her neck.

America opened her mouth but Riri tilted her head, soon her eyes found those of Kate who looked around before settling her eyes on her.

"How about a date?"

The silence that followed could be broken by a needle falling to the floor. America was left frozen in place, her shoulders put back and her brows knitting together while she clenched her fists closed. Kate from her part was slightly confused, her heart beating fast just as she turned to America then back to Riri.

Kamala had her eyes on Kate, whereas Yelena and Loki were looking intently at America. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and America had to hold herself for doing or saying something that she could regret. Riri for her part chuckled, playing the part she was asked to play.

“Come on, it shouldn’t be that hard! You guys came to me, after all.” Kate turned to America, and America hesitated for a moment. It was Loki the one who decided to break the silence.

“I believe we are very curious in knowing who you have in mind, Riri. We cannot force anyone to date you, as you so eloquently put it, money can’t buy everything and this would need to be a decision made by said person.”

“Always big with the words, and the fanfare, Odinson.” Riri rolled her eyes before she nodded towards Kate. “I was thinking, Bishop over there. What do you say? The Winter break is almost here, and I heard the Ball this year would be fantastic…so…Bishop comes with me, and I will give you what you want.”

That comment did it.

America straightened up, jerking her head to the side so her eyes locked onto those of Kate. The other teen was just as shocked as America, though America could swear she saw curiosity in them too. The young woman clenched her fist closed, while Kate started babbling away while trying to explain, and ask, and said a hundredth things at the same time.

"Well, what is it gonna be? Unless this information isn't as important as you made it look."

In all honestly, everyone was wondering the same.

While it was truth that during her babysitting duty, America had become overly found of the twins, their snooping around in the life of their newest teacher had become somehow America’s recent obsession. The young woman had not dared to revel that much, but Kate knew America had been worrying about her sister and the recent attraction she had developed for Wanda. When the black-haired woman turned to America she could see the conflict in her stance, and the way her eyes went from Riri to her.

Kamala stepped forward, chewing on her lower lip while crossing stares with Yelena. America for her part stood on her spot, her mind going over the different options they had. Why was it so important to find out about this woman? Why was she so curious about Wanda Maximoff? It seemed that everyone was wondering the same, and all eyes were now in America.

Kate chewed on her lower lip, the decision should be easier than what it looked at the moment. Kate understood America’s worries, but they had other ways to find out about Wanda. They could use other means, and Kate had a hope that perhaps…that maybe America and her could go…

For a brief moment, America turned to Kate who was glancing at Riri, and Riri was looking back at her. A waved of jealousy grew inside America and she just clenched her jaw closed. This was such a mess, and it should be an easy decision on her part, still…

“America?" Kate asked, and all of a sudden her expression changed. Her face hardened and America could recognize the spark of annoyance in her eyes. "The decision should be easy, you know?"

And of course, America knew it should be easier. But as of late she had seen the change in you, she had read the messages you and Wanda had exchanged and America couldn't help but think of the twins with their scars and the fear in their eyes.

Loki locked eyes with Yelena, and both of them were as expectant as everyone in the room. Then Kate shook her head, she huffed, pushing America out of the way and walking straight towards Riri.

"You have a deal, Riri." Then she softened her features, her tone of voice changing into one of pure sweetness flirtation. "And now that I think about it, I would be more than happy to go with you to the Ball…I promise you, it will be unforgettable."

Kate leaned in, placing a single kiss on the woman's cheek before turning around, she walked past America towards Kamala, grabbing the hand of the other girl she left the room without saying another word.

America felt a knot on her throat, the display of cowardice she just showed to Kate and her friends heavy on her shoulders.

"Well, then who are we looking for?" Riri smirked, stretching her arms and getting ready to work.

Loki hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to provide the names and what they were looking for. Yelena made her way towards America who seemed to be unable to move.

"You are an idiot." Yelena hissed, shaking her head. "All you have to do is admit to her that you are in love with her and then she would have still done it but without the theatrics."

"I could not… She is… Kate is free to do what she wants." America replied quite stubbornly.

"She is doing this for you, America." Yelena shot her a disappointed stare. "You better fix this or you will really lose her forever."

"Okay, found it!" Riri exclaimed and America dropped her eyes before going to the older woman.

Yelena was tempted to hit America, but she decided against it. Loki shrugged and the both of them knew this would be the last chance Kate and America would have to finally be honest with one another and give into what they really want.

“Fuck, you guys better take a look at this.” Loki said leaning forward, he and Riri wore the same angered expression.

America frowned moving closer while standing behind them. Her breath caught in her throat at the file, and Yelena cursed in Russian, the pictures, and the police records as well as the medical files were all there. Whatever or whomever Wanda was before getting to the school was not something nice, or even a happy life; the found the restriction order against her husband, the petition for divorce and the fight for custody. Riri whistled, she felt sorry for even asking for payment for something like this.

“Wanda Maximoff, isn’t she the new literature Professor? The one in charge of your class, Chavez?”

“Yeah, she is.” America replied softly.

“Damn, she really…this is…” Riri turned to the other girl shaking her head. “This is some heavy stuff, you know?”

“I know.”

“Please, Riri, no one can know about this.” Yelena intervened, Riri snorted pointing to the file on the computer.

“Of course not! She is hiding from her maniac husband, here let me show you the new underground railroad…It seems that she has been receiving help from some powerful people.” Riri stated tapping on some keys before showing the group a classified document.

_________________________

The halls inside the adjacent building to her school were empty and cold. America could hear the echoes of her footsteps and that of her friends following her to the main playroom. Loki and Yelena had been discussing the findings in whispered tones, none of them had been completely happy with the discovery but now many pieces in the puzzle that was their new Professor finally fell into place.

America stopped right outside the playroom, her eyes falling on Kate who was laughing with Kamala while Balder and the twins played around the slides.

“You better fix your screw up, America, and soon, Riri is quite the catch and Kate doesn't seem that indifferent to her.”

With those words, Loki went in stretching his hand out to stop Balder from hugging him. The both of them engaged in their ritualistic banter of bickering, while the twins waved at America who shifted her weight from one foot to the other before going in.

Tommy and Billy had changed in the last couple of months. America remembered the first time she met them, they were quiet and quite shy. At first America thought it was because they didn't know her and were still testing the waters around her. But then, she saw the fear in their eyes, how they would look at the clock and then at the door, how jumpy they were with loud noises, or how they would wake up sweaty and crying. Now for America it was obvious the shy, almost submissive nature of Wanda, how protective she was of her intimacy, or the fact the boys and her never used short sleeve clothing or why the twins had learnt to bathe alone without any help.

Not that it helped a lot.

America and Y/N had seen the scars, and while no words had been exchanged between them, they knew what was behind the Maximoff family. And America now had enough proof to prove her sister with the full background of Wanda.

The question was, when should she tell her about it?

“You are thinking too loud.” Kate approached her with her eyes never leaving America's ones.

“I have a lot to think about.” She mumbled shrugging, the twins went back to their stuff putting everything away while Balder whined.

“Yelena told us what Riri found.” Kate softened her stare putting her right hand around her left elbow. “It must be awful…”

“You know you don't have to go with Williams to the Ball, right?”

Kate cocked her head, glancing at America out of the corner of her eyes. America waited patiently, her eyes glancing everywhere but at her best friend and Kate sighed shaking her head, she turned around closing the distance between herself and America, the dark haired teen tensed with her heart leaping inside her chest.

“I know, but you know what?” Kate said breaking her lips into a smirk America had never seen in her. “I realised that if the woman I want doesn't want me back, then I can't wait any longer… I’m going to explore my options. Thank you, America. I think I wouldn't have done this without your help.”

America stood there, dumbstruck while Kate winked at her, turning around to join the others. She could tell America was still watching her, and Kate smiled in satisfaction knowing her words had the desired effect on America. She just hoped America would do something, or else she would never forgive her for letting this chance go away.

_____________________________________

Wanda glanced at the watch on her wrist, she winced noticing the time while her face turned to the rain right outside her windows. She had taken far too long grading some papers, the twins must be waiting for her getting restless back in the playroom in the small building in the compound.

The young woman yawned, picking up her papers and her stuff before her hand went to grab her mobile. She hesitated for a moment until her eyes fell on the last message she received. Your name on her contact list was familiar, as well as the obvious signs that she was ignoring you completely. For more than a week, all Wanda had done was put your messages to the side, and those encounters she had come to look at with an eager heart were now almost non-existent as she made sure to always be out of her home before you.

A part of Wanda, the rational one, knew she was being childish and that what she was doing was prolonging the inevitable. Another part, the emotional one, the damaged one… Was afraid. She was afraid of what everything meant for her, of the sudden surge of emotions she was experimenting for you.

Wanda knew she was damaged goods, and that she had her children to look after. You on the other hand were free, intelligent, beautiful, and you already had someone in your life that apparently made you happy. Why would anyone want Wanda at some point?

Not that Wanda was thinking about being with you. That would mean she liked you, and not in a platonic way. That perhaps her dreams, and the speeding of her heart at the thought of you, meant she was attracted to you, which was impossible because she was not like that. She liked men. Penis. Yeah, she liked that.

So, you do like her in a sexual way, eh?

A voice in her head asked, and Wanda hated to find the teasing tone of Pietro behind such a statement. She could imagine him, with his smirk and teasing glint, dancing around her while saying innapropiate things that would make her blush a hundred different shades of red. She missed her twin, and in moments like this, she wished he was still with her.

“I don't like her like that, I can't.” Wanda replied softly to no one in particular.

Wanda never thought her life would have changed the way it did.

The weeks had turned into months, and she found herself experimenting changes that were affecting her in positive ways. No longer was she afraid of getting home knowing dinner was not done yet, or to get something wrong and get mistreated for it. She could finally have a voice and an opinion and people around her respect her, and actually took her word with admiration. Sometimes the dark clouds of her past came forward, and in those moments she went to her children to find the energy to continue.

Wanda felt her life was finally getting into the right path. Her students had been amazing with her, and as of late it seemed as if their motivation had shifted and the young woman had never felt more supported than ever.

She didn't need complications, and you had become one. A complication she never thought possible, a complication she couldn't afford to have.

Whatever sadness she reflected in her face was soon wiped out when she caught the sound of laughter. She let out a sigh of relief knowing her children had not been alone for so long, and the fact the voice of her students reached her ears told her they had been in good hands. Her phone vibrated once more, but she ignored it completely, she never thought or even contemplated the fact that you might be there.

She entered the room with a confidence she soon lost as soon as her eyes found yours. And whatever she was trying to not feel came back tenfold. Her sweaty hands, the tingling on her lower abdomen and the summersault from her heart. Everything came accompanied by a flush of her cheeks and the widening of her stare.

You stood there rather conflicted, at this sudden appearance. The sound of laughter and conversation became too deafening, but you put your mobile away and took a few steps towards Wanda.

“So, you are alive.” You promised yourself you wouldn't let the bitterness you felt at Wanda's lack of response get to you.

But that was easier said than done, the young woman was standing before you quite healthy and rather unfazed by the fact you had written to her a couple of times until you gave up on any answer. You felt humiliated, and also a little hurt, you thought the both of you were friends. And you felt ridiculous for hoping that maybe…

“I… I was… Yes, I mean…” Wanda made a gesture with her hands, her eyes looking everywhere but at you. “I've been busy, uh with school and…”

“Hey,Maximoff, I'm not asking for explanations.” You replied nonchalantly, your stare hardening. “I was just curious because Tasha told me you and I were supposed to organise the Winter Festival.”

"The winter festival, yes! Yes, she did.We are!” Wanda interrupted her voice, raising slightly with a high pitch at the end.

You arched a single eyebrow, your lips quirking upwards in silent amusement. Wanda almost slapped her face at such an answer, she tried to recover her momentum by clearing her throat and grabbing her purse with both hands.

"I didn't understand much, but we'll, I guess we are in a committee…"

"We are the committee." You interrupted tilting your head, this time around you were frowning. "Nat didn't explain everything, did she?"

Wanda pursed her lips and after a moment she gave in, shaking her head. You could only roll your eyes glancing at the ceiling, of course Natasha had not said anything to the other woman and it would be up to you to explain to her everything that needed to be done. You had a feeling this was the older woman's doing, a well-exécuté plan to torture you and make you spent time with the very woman that had been shaking your world as of late.

"What else did she have to explain?" Wanda finally asked, she dreaded your answer for she had been trying to avoid you for more than a week and this sudden event would only make her spend time with you.

She knew Natasha had placed the responsibility on her shoulders a week ago but Wanda had been down a road she was not familiar with. She hated the beating of her heart, the sweaty palms of her hands, the nervous tingling in her stomach and the flush on her cheeks whenever she was in front of you. Or whenever she received one of your messages that she had been ignoring for quite some time.

She hated the fact she was standing in front of you and you seemed at ease, knowing Wanda was the only one suffering such conflicting emotions and not being able to do nothing to appease such emotions.

"Well, this event is quite important, you know?" You lifted your hand to scratch he nape of your neck, a nervous trait you had picked up when faced with your reality.

Wanda was about to speak when the twins and the rest of the teens came towards you. Her students were mostly smiling, while America seemed rather gloomy at the moment.

"Mom!" The twins came running towards Wanda hugging her around her waist, Wanda smiled softly placing a tender hand on their heads.

"Hey, boys, how was your day?"

"It was awesome!" Billy exlciamed and Tommy nodded in agreement, you softened your stare watching the scene with a heavy heart.

Soon Tommy and Billy were telling their mom all about their adventures, and you had to look away with a frown in your face. America and Loki glanced at one another, a plan already forming inside her head as to what she should do.

“So, Y/N, we were thinking… It is late, and everyone in the room is hungry, right guys.?” America turned to her friends, you narrowed your eyes when it took them half a second to react with nodding heads and hands on their stomachs.

“Right, so hungry much, eh?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N, it has been a while since you last take us to Olympia and we could take the twins there too and Professor Maximoff of course.”

Kate grabbed your arm, she put on her best puppy stare while Kamala grabbed your other arms and America tilted her head amused. You snorted shaking your head, lifting your eyes you could see Wanda glancing at you and the twins frowning in confusion.

“What is Olympia? “ Tommy asked tasting the word on his lips, Balder opened his eyes wide, grabbing the young twin by his shoulders.

“You don't know??” Tommy scowled, lowering his eyes and shaking his head.

“It's the best place on earth!!” Balder turned to you and Loki. “Pleaseee, can we go?”

You raised your brows at Wanda, your eyes finding hers. The young woman was just as confused as her children, your heart shrank st the sheer familiarity you saw on those three faces. America pressed her lips together, she could see the conflicting emotions running through your eyes, the change in your posture, the softening in your expression.

The young woman clenched her jaw tightly, fighting over the myriad of thoughts passing through her mind. America was ready to burst out until a familiar hand grabbed her softly, she turned to see Kate offering a single shake of her head while pulling her aside.

“so, what do you say? We could have something to eat and discuss the preparations for the Ball.” You proposed shrugging, you could see the conflicting emotions running through those green eyes, but you could also see the lost battle as soon as the twins turned to her with begging eyes.

“I guess we could…” Wanda winced when the twins squealed and soon everyone was just walking outside the building.

Yelena caught up to America and Kate, her hand closing on America's wrist.

“What are you doing? Aren't you going to tell your sister about Maximoff?”

America hesitated for a moment, she turned to see you talking lightly with the other woman. Your face had changed completely, no longer wearing the wrinkles of concern or boredom you usually wear after a long day in the office. There weren't any signs of tiredness or anxiousness you got whenever you were with Carol. There wasn't even the dark cloud above your head, the one you had been wearing all week long, whatever was happening through your head, America could see the positive effect Wanda had on you. And without a doubt, the young woman knew you had a positive effect on Wanda.

“I think she should know.” Kate commented to America's side.

“It is only right.” Loki chimed in, America hesitated and it was Kamala the only one to actually voice what America had been thinking all along.

“But it is Professor Manximoff's secret, we can't go around telling everyone much less Y/N about this.” Kamala crossed her arms standing her ground.

“Why not?”

“Have you seen Y/N? Or, Professor Maximoff for that matter?” The group all turned to Y/N and Wanda. “Whatever we say or do right now could be bad for…”

“For them.” America shook her head turning to her friends with a determined stare in her eyes. “Let's give them time, I agreed that this can't be kept a secret, but for now we should be able to protect Wanda's privacy.”

The group hesitated for a moment before all of them nodded. They could keep the secret, for now. But for America the situation was turning into something really problematic, and her first instinct was to make sure you were okay, that you were happy. Thus, with a pursed of her lips she decided it was time for her to give you a push in the right direction.

_______________________

Olympia ended up being a restaurant right outside the city.

It was a five storey building, it was surrounded by a beautiful garden with fountains made of Led lights. The twins were dumbstruck, walking down the road leading from the parking lot to the main entrance. To their side Balder had taken the task to explain what they would find inside, and you had taken your spot right beside Wanda to do just the same.

“I can't believe you never heard of this place.” Wanda tilted her head, her eyes watching with some amusement your childish excitement and the small smile playing upon your lips.

She thought your giddiness was quite adorable, and she had to stop herself from just leaning in and grab your hand in hers. Her heart hammering against her chest at the mere thought.

The restaurant was owned by the most peculiar family; they had built the place as a theme restaurant in which families and friends could come over to enjoy games, shows and nice warm meals. Wanda and the twins were awestruck at the sight of mythological creatures and decorations welcoming newest arrivals.

The smile on your lips softened at the sight of Wanda walking around the place with the twins shying away with big eyes glancing around the place. You could tell this was her first time in such a place, and a part of you had to wonder if Wanda had never been in a place like this one.

“Mommy, can we go?” Tommy asked shyly pointing at the playground to the right, Wanda hesitated with her breath caught in her throat when your hand rested on hers.

“It is completely secure, and they would have America and the others watching over them while we look for a table.” You said to Wanda, your thumb making soothing circles on the back of her hand. “What do you say, Princess? I know it must be quite the tortuous experience to be with me but we can…”

“It's not a tortuous experience.”Wanda replied, cutting herself off before she could reveal something else.

You nodded curtly letting go of her hand before nodding towards the lifts.

“I know just the place for you and the twins to enjoy this first time.”

You waited patiently for an answer, you were trying to quiet down the thoughts running inside your head. The best policy you could apply to just ignore the growing need to connect with the redhead standing in front of you. You had missed your conversations with her, the banter you had formed with the woman after a fateful day in which you had come to appreciate the twins. For more than a week you had tried to reason with yourself and the piercing need to talk to Wanda.

When she didn't answer, and it was quite evident she was avoiding you, something in you broke a little. You were not one to beg, so you stopped writing after two days, but seeing her again you knew you couldn't let go without, at least, trying to forge a friendship with Wanda.

Because that was all you wanted, right?

Friendship.

And that was all Wanda was ready to give you, right?

Friendship.

“Don't worry, Professor, they are in the best…Yelena, No!”

Kamala screamed running after Yelena who was already trying to steal a Nerf gun from a kid, Balder and the twins were already getting armed with Loki giving clear instructions. America winced chuckling while Kate rolled her eyes crossing her arms.

“Guys…” You said and America waved at you.

“I know, I know.”

Kate turned to Wanda, wincing a little, “Don't worry, I made sure they are okay.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip, her eyes had not stopped checking the crowded restaurant while her own panic rose inside her throat at the sight of the twins mixing up with the rest of the children. You could tell she was tensed, her eyes worrying but what you saw there was actually terror.

In just a second, Wanda was breathing hard, her eyes going wide open and body covered with a thin layer of cold sweat. She started trembling, and you could tell she was about to have a breakdown. Without thinking too much you stood in her line of vision, your hand grabbing hers in yours.

“Hey, Wands, it's okay, they are going to be fine.” You spoke softly, soothing words and brushed caresses on her hands while you dragged her away from the crowded hall. “It's okay, come…you're going to be fine.”

Wanda clenched her eyes closed, and she let you take her away until the sound of a bell echoed in a closed room and soon. The sound of people disappeared. Wanda opened her eyes only to see you looking back at her, you offered a reassuring smile with the lift sliding all the way to the last floor.

“Are you okay?” You finally asked, Wanda flushed looking away.

“Yes.” Her tone was cold, and you could tell she was embarrassed by the scene.

“You know, there is nothing to be emb…”

“I know.” She cut in exiting the lift as soon as the doors opened.

You scowled, glancing at your reflection before following the young woman out. The fifth floor was something out of a Jurassic Park movie, wherever she turned there was a jungle like atmosphere with replicas of dinosaurs around. You couldn't help the half smile stepping inside the floor while locating a good table. This was, by far, your favourite place to be; you walked past Wanda, your eyes sweeping the place really quick until you found the person you had been looking for.

“Ajak!”

The woman straightened up, turning sharply towards you, her eyes going big while a grin broke on her face. She gave some final instructions before approaching you with arms outstretched to engulf you in a tight embrace.

“Y/N! And here I thought you had forgotten all about me, mija.” Ajak stepped back giving you a once over, her eyes sharp and witty taking into the form of Wanda who was standing at a safe distance before they settled on you.

“Never, Ajak, but work and life has consumed most of my time.” You winced apologetically. “But I am here and I have new guests that have never tasted your amazing cuisine.”

Wanda found herself under black, piercing eyes that were a mixture of warmth and curiosity. The woman stretched out her hand, Wanda took it in hers almost wincing at the tight grasp.

“Now, a guest of Y/N will always be welcome, I'm Ajak.”

Wanda offered a tentative smile, her eyes going to you then back at Ajak.

“I'm Wanda.”

“Well, we cannot have this! A table for two? For you and your date.”

“No!” The quick, rather panicky scream coming from Wanda and yourself made Ajak turn suspicious eyes to you then to Wanda.

You knew you were blushing, but you didn't dare to look over at Wanda before clearing your throat to clarify the situation.

“We're not… She is not.. I mean… She is my sister's teacher so we just…”

“Yeah, no date or, her sister is my babysitter and…”

Whatever else the both of you were going to add soon died off while you just stood there rather awkwardly. Ajak snorted, shaking her head while pointing to the tables.

“So not table for two…”

“We came here with everyone, America and her friends and Wanda's children.”

Ajak nodded in understanding, finally pointing to the furthest corner in the room pointing to a balcony and a couple of torches.

“Well, you can have the spot by the balcony, I will send someone soon…” Ajak then winked at you, and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she continued. “It's always good to have you back, and this time around with such a beautiful woman by your side.”

You put a hand on your face hiding away your embarrassment, Wanda merely clapped her lips closed blushing lightly at the implications of those words. Without nothing much to say, you and her were led directly to the last spot.

“This is beautiful.” Wanda sighed dreamily, lifting her eyes to the sky above their heads lowering her gaze to see the outline of the city on the horizon.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, you furrowed your brows turning away to glance outside the balcony.

“I still can't believe you didn't know about this place.” You commented lightly. “This is the best restaurant in the whole East Coast, and it can be quite fun to spend some time with friends and family.”

Wanda sighed knowing she had missed the chance to get to know the world right outside her universe. She did not know much about the world, or places outside Westview or the events Vision used to take her to. The only holidays they had shared had been to Sokovia for the funeral of her father, a holiday she would always remember. Wanda jerked awake when a warm hand placed softly in her hand, she turned sharply to you and her breath caught on her throat.

“Are you okay?” You asked tentatively, Wanda stepped back from your grasp offering a shaky smile.

But before she could answer or you could say anything else the sound of laughter and loud conversation distracted the both of you and the group of teens with the three boys came around to occupy a chair in the big table. The twins ran directly to Wanda, and their excited chatter was enough to distract Wanda of her thoughts and the emotional situation she found herself in.

Dinner was a strange event for Wanda and yourself. You both found yourselves sitting side by side with everyone sharing stories about school and Summer holidays, the twins were quiet watching and hearing everything while enjoying the dinner. Your eyes never drifted away from Wanda for too long, the young woman was quiet at first, her fingers tapping on the table while holding a strained smile hovering protectively around the twins.

Wanda had always been a mystery for you, from the moment you met her she had been a contradiction of shyness and resolution. There were moments in which you could see a fire inside her eyes, the sharpness of her tongue and her intelligence always challenging you in ways you found fresh and exciting. There were other times in which she made herself small, the dark clouds of fear and uncertainty shadowing those flames while offering a vulnerable side you wished you could protect.

You snorted, shaking your head while everyone at the table laughed, your eyes drifted slightly only to see Wanda glancing at you with amusement.

“And then, of course, Y/N had to come out of there all dressed up in clothes that were not even hers and mom and dad decided to have the talk with both of us.”

All the twins winced while Wanda chuckled, raising a single eyebrow. You rolled your eyes hiding your blush, the twins scrunched up their noses looking around until Billy decided to speak.

“What talk?” He asked innocently, and the question soon quieted down the laughter making everyone squirmed on their spots.

This time around you raised a brow at Wanda, daring her to answer that question to them.

“Want to explain that, Mommy Wanda?”

The deep shade of red that decorated the woman's cheeks caught you off guard. The woman looked away hiding her flustered expression, you didn't expect that reaction to your comment. Something inside you ignited with curiosity to explore that sudden discovery, but soon Balder decided to break the uncomfortable tension in the room with his own innocent comment.

“The talk about sex, dummy!”

“Balder!”Loki exclaimed, slapping his hand while his little brother turned big curious eyes his way.

“How does he know about that?” Kamala asked, but Loki made a face.

“He overheard Thor, and he is a little brat that can't keep his mouth shut.”

“You’re the brat!”

Loki opened his mouth to retort but you lifted your hand shaking your head. The uncomfortable moment had passed, but you were still thinking about Wanda's reaction.

“Okay, you two stop it, let's choose the desert.”

“Dessert?” Tommy turned to Wanda. “Can we have dessert, mommy?”

You smirked watching as Wanda squirmed under your stare, she was trying really hard to ignore you but you made sure this time around it was impossible for her to do so.

“Oh, what do you say mommy, can we?” You spoke before you could censor yourself, Wanda glared at you clenching her fists closed.

“Y/N, really?” America asked in disbelief, she glared at you and you opened your mouth.

“Just stop, it is not as funny as you think it is.” Wanda turned around, softening her facial expression while placing a hand on Tommy's head. “I think we should go. Perhaps another time.”

You yelped, feeling the kick in your chin, turning around you saw America flaring at you still but this time around she was pointing to the other woman, her eyes big and eyebrows raised trying to speak to you without words.

The twins moaned in protest, but Wanda was already standing up until she felt your hand on hers. She didn't turn around, but you didn't need to, you stood up and circled the young woman standing in front of her, your free hand on Tommy's shoulder.

“Please, desserts here are delicious and… It's on me.”

“I don't think…” Wanda started but her resolution crumbled as soon as you stepped forward. Your eyes softened greatly, and your next words piercing Wanda's resolution.

“Please, sorry I was an ass, I just don't know how to act when I'm around someone like you.” You didn't mean to be this honest, you knew everyone was watching the interaction and probably this conversation would be something America wouldn't let go anytime soon.

“Like me?” Wanda asked confusedly.

You broke into a bitter smile shrugging, “like you.”

The silence would have grown even more uncomfortable if it hadn't been by Kamala and Kate that soon were making quite the ruckus to select the best dessert of the night.

“Why do you like to make my life more difficult than it already is?” The question left her lips before she could stop it, and while she didn't quite mean to ask that, once she had said it a burning desire to know grew in her.

You blinked a couple of times, looking away while shrugging.

“I don't know.” You sighed lifting your gaze to the woman in front of you. “You just…Make it too easy and I just can't help it.”

Wanda let go of Tommy who had joined the others around America and Kate that were now explaining what each dessert had. Wanda had enjoyed her afternoon with her children and her students, that you were there with her had been just a plus she was still trying to pretend she didn't enjoy.

Truth was, if she were to accept why she was so conflicted with your presence, why she had been avoiding you for the last couple of days, why she got so nervous around you. She would be admitting to something up until a couple of months ago she thought was a sin with someone that was already engaged in a relationship.

Wanda had a lot to lose and nothing to gain. So it was better to pretend nothing was happening, it was easier to break something that was just starting to grow.

“My grandparents and Tony's parents started the tradition of the Winter Festival.” Your voice broke into Wanda's thoughts, she turned to you quite surprised and you offered a single smile nodding towards the balcony.

The morning breeze brushed against your cheeks, you leaned forward with the palm of your hand stretched out to receive the first snowflakes of the season.

“My grandmother was a writer, and she was quite the romantic fella.” You chuckled remembering your childhood, the stories your grandmother used to tell right before going to bed. “She thought that a Ball and a festival around the Holidays would bring everyone together and would make a good way to find love.”

“A dreamer, then.” Wanda offered a half smile, she wrapped her arms around herself standing a few feet away from you.

The night had been strange, but not unpleasant. She couldn’t remember the last time she went out to a nice restaurant to eat, or to have some amount of fun and see her children free the way they had been that night. She looked at you out of the corner of her eyes, her heart fluttering lightly when you continued talking about your family and the traditions of the school, your tone of voice softening with the weight of memories and wishfulness. The confusion Wanda had been experimenting as of late was diminishing as you continue speaking, and the young woman knew sooner or later she would need to face whatever was growing inside her heart.

But for now, she could pretend.

“Then, whatever we do, whatever we plan, must be incredible.” Wanda stated after you had finished talking, you snorted shrugging.

“It’s a matter of honour.” You replied conspiratorially, your eyes twinkling at her reaction. “Believe me, we have been at this since we were at school so…”

Wanda chuckled shaking her head, for what little she knew about you and the others, everyone had gone to the same school and your friendship was based on banter and familiarity. She had seen firsthand how competitive all of them were, the great friendship amongst the families that controlled a whole school and many important businesses in the world. Wanda’s face fell for a moment, she had entered a world that could turn against her at any moment, one wrong step, or one wrong word could kick her out and leave her exposed to the man she had been running from. Natasha had been right when she said this would be important for her, and while Wanda didn’t think for one moment the older woman had tricked her in any way, she knew right now great things were expected from her, a payment for the favours she had received so far.

Movement to her side called her attention, and Wanda soon found herself far too close to you. From this distance she could see the light in your eyes, the small happy wrinkles around your eyes and the curve of your lips. She could also feel the warm emanating from your body, and a part of her, a crazy almost childish part of her, wondered what would happen if she were to close the distance…

Have you ever been attracted to someone other than Vision? Have you wondered what would have happened if people didn’t try to tell you who you should love or be with?

The words of her last therapy session with Hope resounded inside Wanda’s head, but before anything happened you chuckled nodding your head towards the restaurant.

“You’re gonna have two kids running on sugar rush in a moment, you know that, right?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the glance of pure horror she put on as soon as she realized the twins were eating a huge plate of dessert while bouncing restlessly on the chairs.

“They have never had so much sweet before…” Wanda started worriedly, your grabbed her hand winking playfully at her.

“Then, let me help you with tiring them up so you won’t suffer later on.”

“What do you mean..?”

“Well, this restaurant has many playgrounds, and I’m friends with the owner so…let’s go, time for you and me to play some!”

Wanda was not sure what was happening, or what exactly were you talking about. But whatever it was, she didn’t care at the moment, the only think she could think was your hand wrapped tenderly around hers, and the childish grin playing on your lips. Everything else was forgotten.

______________________________________

It was way past midnight by the time you parked Wanda’s car in the garage.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” Wanda shifted her position on the front seat, she turned slightly to see Tommy and Billy fast asleep.

You turned off the care tilting your head to see the twins then at Wanda who was looking completely tired. While it was true that you didn’t need to drive Wanda and the twins back home, but you couldn’t help yourself; you offered while lending your car to America so she could take the other’s home.

A part of you didn’t want the night to be over yet.

“I know but I just figured you may need some help with those two.” You pointed to the twins, Wanda smiled softly.

“Thank you.” She mumbled lowering her gaze, her hand closer to yours. “I don’t remember the last time I have so much fun.”

You smiled satisfied, “I’m glad to hear that.”

There was a moment of silence filled only with the knowledge that you were lost. As soon as you lifted your gaze you could see those green eyes glancing back at you, Wanda was looking confused and tired. But there was evidently some sort of happiness in her face, she was relaxed and for a moment your thought perhaps the weight she had been carrying was lifted. Not for the first time you wondered what had happened to her, what had really brought her to your doorstep with two kids and not husband.

It's not my secret to share.

“I think you should have more moments like this one, you and the kids.” You said after a moment, breaking the growing silence in the car.

“I think we are still getting use to this.” Wanda replied softly, and while she didn’t elaborate you could tell that this was part of the past you were dying to get to know.

“Well, if there is any way for me to help you loosen up more, Princess, don’t hesitate to tell me.” You winked at her enjoying the soft colouring on her cheeks, Wanda straightened up trying to gather her thoughts.

“Right, I think we need to first work on the preparations for the festival and…” She trailed off when you placed a hand on hers.

“Yes, yes…don’t worry about that, Princess.” You then opened the door and grabbed the car keys. “Come, I will help you take these two to bed.”

It didn’t take too long to take the twins into their room, both of them protested and turned around as soon as their bodies touched their beds. The only thing Wanda could take off of them were his shoes and jackets, she was about to insist on them getting in their pyjamas but your hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Let them be, we really tired them up in the laser tag.” You whispered by the door, Wanda hesitated for a moment making sure that the boys were only on their shirts and with a blanket on top of them.

“I guess it wouldn’t make any difference.”

Wanda whispered back making her way towards you, finally the tiredness of the day was catching up to her and you could see the bags under her eyes and the cold of night sneaking inside her clothes. You pulled her out of the room gently, closing the door behind you leading the young woman to the hall and the stairs, Wanda stood by the stairs glancing at you then at the door down the hall. You shifted on your feet before glancing down the stairs.

“Look, today was nice.” You stated scratching the nape of your neck. “I haven’t had so much fun in a long time.”

“Me neither.” Wanda answered truthfully, her lisp curling slightly at the memory. “And the twins, they were happy too.”

You nodded smiling, “yeah, I could tell.”

Wanda put her right arm on her forearm, she glanced down then back at you.

“I’m sorry I was avoiding you this last week.” Wanda finally said without looking you in the eye, this was easier said than done, and while the reasons of her avoiding you were not clear for you, Wanda was not about to admit them yet.

“I’ve been having a long week, and I just…”

“Hey, that’s okay, I guess. I understand.” You replied leaning in, making it impossible for Wanda to look away. “I just hope you’re not doing it anymore because we need to start making preparations, and I was hoping you would come to my place and have some lunch.”

Wanda opened her eyes; she nodded slowly still a little confused until you rolled your eyes at her.

“You know? So we can start planning the Winter Festival.”

“Oh, right, yes, sure.” Wanda bounced slightly, flustered she tried to hide her yawn but it was almost impossible to do so.

“Go to sleep, Wands. See you tomorrow.”

Before either of you could do something, anything at all, you decided to lean in and kiss Wanda on her cheek. It was a short brush of lips, but it was enough to make her catch her breath and warm all over.

And just like that, you turned around and left before anything could be done or said.

_____________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Reader and Wanda start getting closer, the twins like this new addition to their family. America and Kate find themselves at a crossroads after Riri decides to play a flirty game, and Carol is at her wit's end with Reader. Someone from Wanda's past come into the scene, and Reader is dangerously clueless about the whole situation.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #MCU AU #Modern MCU #Wanda Maximoff/Feamle!reader

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missywritesfor7 · 4 months

Text

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Next chapter | Masterlist

In the spirit of the season I thought I’d give the first chapter of this new fic to you all 🤗 I haven’t fully worked out the specific day, but I’ll be posting a chapter a week after the new year so stay tuned! 💜

Ch. 1: Love

Time seems slow when you’re in the middle of it. Even slower when you’re looking forward to something. Yoongi spent 21 months away from his home, his members, Army, his family, and his girlfriend who he had only been dating 3 short months before he had to leave.

Yoongi and Hyeri had known each other before, both being under Hybe as artists. Na Hyeri, stage name: Rainbow, began her idol career with a short lived girl group called Two Piece under a much smaller company. The group disbanded after just two mini albums, and a lot of attention thanks to their company infamously mishandling everything from money to the artist’s safety and well-being. When the smoke died down, Hyeri signed with Hybe as a solo artist and has made a name for herself in the few years since her solo debut.

She first met Yoongi when he produced a song that she performed for a tourism campaign. The song made waves across social media and beyond and Hyeri found herself gaining a mass of new fans. The first time they ran into each other after the campaign took off, Hyeri jokingly thanked Yoongi for the new fans. That turned into an hour long conversation that was the beginning of a new relationship.

After endless texts, phone calls, and sneaking to see each other around the company building whenever they could, they became official. To themselves mostly and close family and friends. Yoongi told the rest of the members and Hyeri told her best friends and former bandmates, Haeun and Minji. To the rest of the world they’re just label mates who worked on a song together.

Being under the same company made things easy. Moving in together 2 months later made things even easier. Yoongi’s enlistment however, made things harder.

For 21 months Hyeri lived alone waiting for Yoongi with the rest of the world. His few vacation times never seemed long enough and his discharge date seemed like it was centuries away.

Then he was back. And just like that those 21 months didn’t seem so bad after all. Things were as they had been before with all seven of them back together again.

Hyeri had begun taking more and more acting jobs so she was fairly busy, but always left a note and a snack for Yoongi when she’d leave before him. Other times she would give him a soft kiss when she’d come home late and find him already asleep. Yoongi always sent her a meal if she were home and he wasn’t. The nights he spent in his studio instead of home he would make up for with more gifts than necessary. Jewelry, stuffed animals, posters of himself, and the occasional pair of shoes despite him telling her he wouldn’t buy her shoes since she already has so many.

Once the group’s big post-military comeback had concluded, Yoongi felt truly happy. He was back with his brothers making music and seeing Army again, and he had his girlfriend by his side who he’s deeply in love with. All felt right in the world.

Yoongi had begun working on new music for the group’s upcoming full length album. He’s been in his studio much more instead of home, but it’s not too bad. Hyeri finished shooting her small parts in a drama she was cast in and had begun working on a couple of songs for the soundtrack. When she was done recording for the day, she would come by Yoongi’s studio and spend as much time there as she could since she knows he may not come home that night.

This day is like any other. Hyeri finished her final recording session and dropped by Yoongi’s studio with a dinner of his favorite cheat meal, noodles. They both sit on his couch eating, chatting, and cuddling a bit once they’ve cleared their bowls.

“I think this may have been my last recording session,” Hyeri says with her legs rested across Yoongi’s lap.

“So you’re really going to do it?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I know it’s going to suck and you’re going to hate it, but I just…” she pauses and looks up at his face. He may be expressionless, but she knows that’s just him trying to hide his disappointment.

“Hybe is more of a music company, you know that,” she continues. “I just really think I’ll have much better acting opportunities with JJS since they’re such a successful acting agency.”

JJS is one of the top entertainment agencies in the acting world. They house some of the best entertainers in the industry, from romance movie heartthrobs, variety show comedians who have become household names, and even action movie baddies. Hyeri had been looking into switching companies so that she can embark on her new career as a full time actress. She’s gotten a number of roles through Hybe already. Mostly a few commercials and a couple of small cameos in tv shows. For her, switching to JJS could mean finally getting her breakout opportunity to send her acting career soaring.

“I know we won’t get to see each other like this anymore,” she says. “But we’ll still see each other at home. Don’t be mad,” she pouts.

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi says caressing her leg. “I told you before I would support you no matter what you decide.”

“But you still don’t like it.”

“It’s fine. We’ll see each other at home, right?”

“We never see each other at home,” she pouts more.

“You just said…” he chuckles shaking his head and pulls her closer to him. “We’ll make it work. I want you to follow your dreams. Don’t hold yourself back because of me.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with it? Do you think it will make things hard?”

“Not as hard as me being away for 21 months,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”She nods and he gives her a reassuring kiss.

Hyeri goes back and forth on whether she’s making the right decision. Yoongi constantly tells her she is but she’s struggling to believe it. She spends less time in the company building since she’s not working on anything and will be leaving soon. That means she’s been home alone a lot. It’s nothing new to her, but she’s starting to realize how hard it may actually be. Especially when she starts working again.

Yoongi is the perfect support for her. He keeps her sane and assures her that he’ll stand by her no matter what she does or where she goes. Sure it will come with challenges, but he knows they can make it work.

Things start off fine. News of Hyeri signing with JJS was met with lots of support from her fans. She immediately landed a small supporting role in a movie and Yoongi couldn’t be happier for her.

Shooting on the movie began and that became the true test of their relationship. They rarely saw each other. When one of them would leave or come home, the other would be asleep. Yoongi would even spend less time in his studio so he could be home on the off chance that she gets there early. She never did and he would spend another night falling asleep alone.

It’s frustrating for them both to be so close yet so far from each other. Yoongi has completed the majority of his work on the songs for their new album. Even with endless recording and dance practices, he still can’t seem to find enough to do to keep his mind off of the empty space in his bed that smells like Hyeri.

They text when they can but it’s never enough. They miss each other and start to feel like they were able to talk to each other more when he was in the military. No matter how hard they try or how bad they want it, they can never seem to get their schedules to line up.

One day that finally changes. A month into Hyeri’s shoot, and about a month before Yoongi embarks on another BTS comeback era, they find an overlap in free time in their schedules. Yoongi had a gap in his schedule that gave him a bit of free time. He typically would spend that time in his studio. However, Hyeri had a last minute cancellation that gave her the rest of the evening off.

Yoongi only has an hour to see Hyeri so he rushes out and tells her to meet him at a nearby restaurant for dinner. He would rather see her at home so they can be in private, but the further he has to go, the less time that will leave him with Hyeri. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t want to lose a second.

Since time is limited and privacy is important, Yoongi chose a small snack food place that he and the members had been going to for many years. They always have a table in the back away from the public eye for them. It’s private enough and a quick meal.

Yoongi arrives at the restaurant first. He doesn’t have to wait long before Hyeri arrives, though to him it felt like hours. She looks around a moment then runs to give Yoongi a long kiss filled with so much pent up longing.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” Hyeri says kissing him again.

“I missed you,” he says stealing one more kiss before she takes her seat across from him.

“I wish we had time but I’ll take this over nothing,” she says quickly scanning the menu. “There’s so much I want to tell you about the movie shoot! It’s been so much fun and everyone has been really cool. I really think I made the right choice. I just wish it didn’t keep me away from you so much.”

“I know, Bow,” he says, calling her by the shortened version of her stage name, Rainbow. “You’ll have more time once the shooting is done. Then even more time when you finish all the promos.”

“I know, baby, but aren’t you guys going on your world tour around the time I finish shooting? I know things haven’t been finalized yet, but we really wouldn’t have much time together before you’re off traveling the world.”

Yoongi knows she’s right and it breaks his heart to see the sadness in her eyes. Their server comes by to take their order before he can think of something to say to make her feel better.

After placing their order and sitting in silence a few moments, Yoongi reaches across the table and takes Hyeri’s small hands into his.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he says forcing a smile.

“I don’t know,” she chuckles trying to lighten the mood. “You might get sick of me then.”

“I won’t get sick of you,” he chuckles. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still beautiful.”

“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Min?” She jokes.

“I was only stating a fact,” he chuckles.

“Admit it, Yoon-gya, you like me,” she laughs calling him by the nickname that never fails to make him laugh.

When Hyeri first met Jin he was speaking so fast she could hardly understand him. When she heard him shout “Yoongi-ah” it sounded like “Yoon-gya” to her. After they began dating she asked Yoongi why Jin calls him “Yoon-gya”. Yoongi was confused at first, but once he realized what she was saying he never let it go. In return she calls him that whenever she’s messing with him.

“I love you,” he chuckles. “But still…you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, babe.” She shakes her head knowing he should know better. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than an enlistment and a world tour to get rid of me.”

He gives her hands a light squeeze and flashes his gummy smile in happiness. Both of them are soaking up each other’s presence in this rare moment they have together. They continue talking about work and things they haven’t been able to tell through text. Their food arrives and they continue chatting as they eat.

That hour is much too short. It only felt like a few minutes to them, but they look and now it’s time for Yoongi to return to the office for his scheduled recording session. It’s hard for them to let each other go. They stand in front of the restaurant lingering a moment trying to find the courage to leave.

“I’ll try to stay up for you,” Hyeri says.

“Hopefully we can make it quick. I’ll come straight home once I’m done.” He reaches for her hand out of habit briefly forgetting that they’re out on the street. She doesn’t stop him though. She takes his hand for just a brief moment to feel his warmth a second longer, then let’s go.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he smiles.

They both head to their cars and go off their separate ways. They hate to leave after finally getting a moment of togetherness. That only gives Yoongi a much greater sense of urgency the rest of the evening.

When he returns to the studio it’s clear to everyone he’s trying to get things done quickly. He has no time for small talk or getting off track with mindless conversations. The sooner this is done the better.

“Hyung,” Jimin says exiting the recording booth. “Take it easy. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“She’s waiting for me,” Yoongi says with no further explanation.

“Ah,” Jimin nods. He knows exactly what Yoongi means. He knows what Hyeri means to Yoongi so he doesn’t need any further explanation. “Get in there and finish up then.”

Before Yoongi, Jimin is the last one to finish recording. Now that he’s done he switches places with Yoongi to help things move along faster. Jimin doesn’t mind staying a bit later so Yoongi can get home. It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like, but he finally finishes and rushes off to go home without giving Jimin a second look. Jimin follows him out and simply laughs to himself at how flustered his hyung is. He knows Yoongi is in deep.

Yoongi returns home at 1am hoping Hyeri is still awake. When he steps inside all of the lights are off and he fears he may be too late. That is, until he reaches the bedroom and he can hear the shower running.

Hyeri had just gotten in the shower after finishing a late meal. She was fighting her sleep in hopes that Yoongi would be home soon. She decided to hop in the shower in an attempt to stay awake just a little longer.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes as the water runs through her hair and down her back. The warm water is relaxing so she stands there not moving for a few moments. She takes a deep breath and just then she can feel a hand on her waist.

She opens her eyes to see Yoongi entering the shower and pulling her close to his bare body. She isn’t sure how he managed to get home and get undressed without her hearing a thing, but it doesn’t matter. She instantly wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

“I’m so glad you’re still awake,” Yoongi says in a low tone. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to hold you in way too long.”

“I know,” she says kissing him again. “I never knew I could miss you so much when we live together.”

He feels the same but rather than saying so, he pulls her in tighter for a heavier kiss. His hands trace every wet part of her body until he reaches between her legs and softly teases her clit. He lives for the breathy moan she lets out at the feeling of him. The sound he’s missed, the feel he’s missed, the taste he’s missed. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

He continues kissing her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and swallowing every sound of hers until he presses her back against the shower wall. His level of arousal is almost unbearable in this moment. So many missed connections and lonely nights are overflowing and poking her pelvis in the process.

“I love you so much, Bow,” he growls lifting her leg and wrapping it around his waist.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers anticipating his entry that is much desired.

He presses her into the wall harder and takes his tongue on a tour of her neck and chest until he reaches her tits. He loves to see her like this. Melting in his arms and breathing heavily for what he’s about to give her.

He fills her up slowly sending waves of heat through her body until he can’t go any further. He pauses in place and stares her down. He could die in her big brown eyes that are staring up at him with lustful anticipation.

He starts slowly. Easing in and out of her delicately as if she were made of porcelain. In his mind she is. Right now, she’s his beautiful porcelain doll that he’ll never break.

“You feel so good,” he whispers taking her lips again.

She tightens her hold around his neck and arches her back pressing her chest into him more. It’s her silent way of telling him she wants it faster and harder. She wants his love to break her.

He takes the hint and picks up speed while pressing her harder against the shower wall. Her unsteady breaths fuel his powerful strokes more and more. Her moans sing a song that he’ll never get tired of. He can feel that overwhelming pressure within him getting closer to exploding out of every part of him.

The way her nails dig into the back of his neck lets him know she’s just about to lose it. He’s just about to lose it. Her pussy tightens around him sucking his oxygen out.

He growls at her, becoming more relentless and desperate with each stroke.

“I love you so fucking much,” she pants.

The rhythm of his hips sends her over the moon. Her nails dig deeper into his skin as she searches for some bit of stability. He lets out a deep purr when his muscles start to tense and his vision begins to fade.

“I love you,” she repeats kissing his neck. She continues to hang on to him until his hips slow to a stop and his purrs decrease to heavy breaths.

“I love you too, Hyeri,” he says once he has his voice back.

He slides out of her and kisses her softly. She lowers her leg from around his waist and smiles up at him.

“I don’t think I’ll have trouble falling asleep tonight,” she says.

“Good,” he says nipping at her bottom lip. “You only have about three hours before you have to leave.”

“Perfect,” she sarcastically huffs dreading her very early call time that she could have been well rested for had she not stayed up waiting for Yoongi. “I guess I should get to bed then.”

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hot-soop · 6 months

Text

don't let me tempt you / ch.1

pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: Good Omens universe (none of the characters or the plot are mentioned so this fic can be read without knowing anything of Good Omens) ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter) ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4.5k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery bc this is set in the Good Omens universe and there's gonna be a bunch of biblical references, but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate. Author is an atheist. Author did next to no research on calendars that pre-date the Georgian one bc she is lazy and can't do maths. Swearing. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort <3 ⇢ a/n: thank u to my beloveds @the-boy-meets-evil and @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and thinking my babies are cute. thank u to my angel @effortandmore for your encouragement! Ur all cute too. Ily

1106 BC

Time in 1106 BC follows some kind of construct that the author has not deemed necessary to research, but if the Georgian calendar (or indeed days of the week) had been invented, the day our story begins would be in mid April, on a Tuesday, around 3pm.

The weather in Heaven is, as you would expect, perfect. The company is not.

“Sorry to bring you in here like this,” you say, as the thirteenth angel of the day takes a seat on the other side of your desk.

There’s a spiel to this. Angels have a tendency to lean towards the dramatic, so you’ve learned the ways of ‘softening the blow’, as the humans call it. Doling out God’s punishments wasn’t your preferred assignment, but it’s the role that was dropped in your lap after you quit the last - and you’re not in a position to refuse Her again. Here goes another.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but-”

“Let me guess,” the other angel interjects. “She’s demoting me?”

This is unusual. The angels know God’s wrath, but they’re usually surprised to find out when said wrath is directed toward them specifically. Not this one, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, waiting for you to rip off the bandaid.

“Uhh. A temporary banishment actually.”

He stares at you. “It was only a little miracle.”

“Three very large miracles, I’ll have you know. We’re not supposed to be bringing people back from the dead anymore.”

“Since when?” he asks, rather like a petulant human toddler.

You frown. “Since protocol changed - didn’t you read the memo?” The angel shakes his head. “God’s decided to save those types of miracles for someone really special in-” You pause to check your watch “- a thousand years, give or take a century.”

“Special how?” The angel asks, sitting up a little straighter.

“You know we’re not told details of The Great Plan.” You flip the file shut. “Well, it seems like you know the issue at hand, and there’s little else to discuss-”

There’s a look of unease creeping over his assigned face that gives you pause. His fingertips drum on his knee. Too human for a heavenly body. “Are you alright?”

“She’s not- they’re not going to cut-”

“Oh! Goodness no,” you’re quick to reassure. “Oh no, you’d have to do something really awful for that, like, question her authority like Lucifer did.” His laugh comes out like a bark, and you’re confused because it wasn’t a joke. “No, but I am terribly sorry to say that you’re being sentenced to four-hundred years on Earth.”

He blinks twice. “Excuse me?”

“Four-hundred years - horrid, I know. But God does say the punishment must fit the deed-”

You’re interrupted again, this time by the kind of laughter that starts as disbelief and quickly has his shoulders shaking and tears rolling down his cheeks. Most unusual.

“You’re telling me I get to spend near half a century on Earth?”

“What do you mean ‘get to’?” The thought of even spending ten years in such a place sends shivers right through your wings. “You won’t be able to return to heaven at all during that time. No correspondence with anyone, unless of course we contact you first.” He’s positively glowing and you can’t understand it. “You’ll have to live amongst humans-”

He’s standing now, moving to the screen and zooming in on earth. “Can I pick where?”

You move to stand next to him. He’s zoomed in so far, you can’t quite tell where it’s supposed to be. In truth, you spend very little time looking over God’s preferred planet, choosing instead to focus on the vastness of the universe in all its glory. You prefer the stars and the galaxies and all of their colours.

“May I?”

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Can I choose where to live? Will I have a role?”

There’s nothing like this in the training manual. No one ever has these questions. They’re too busy crying, wailing for another chance to stay in heaven, let alone look excited as this one does.

“I suppose you could,” you say slowly. “And no - there’s no role.” You wait for the penny to drop, but he doesn’t seem to get it. “Pointlessness is the point of this sentence.”

Wonder breaks out in his expression, and he turns back to the screen and zooms in on a peninsular you’ve never noticed before. “Can you drop me here?”

“Where’s here?”

“Gojoseon.”

“Why?”

“Good people.” His smile spreads wide. “Good food.”

You gasp. “You’ve consumed their provisions? You’ve eaten?”

He looks at you in shock. “You haven’t?”

Of course you flaming haven’t! Even if you could stomach it - how in heaven would you get the opportunity to dine on Earth, what with all the work piling up in your pigeonhole and the lack of angels rights to paid time off, not to mention a union?

Your expression must say it all because he laughs again and says, “Well then visit me sometime, I’ll cook for you.”

“You’re very peculiar.”

“Yes,” he says with a shrug. “I get that a lot.”

You move back over to the desk to complete the rest of the paperwork while he stands there, still looking at the map with a satisfied smile.

After a few moments, he says, “I’ll need a name if I’m to live with humans.”

You find his given name at the top of the page. Soterasiel.

“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”

He shrugs again. “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue for everyone.”

“I hear John is rather popular these days,” you muse, still checking boxes. “And Abraham. Or what about Jos-”

“Seokjin.”

“Bless you.”

“No, I mean- Seokjin.” He moves to sit back down. You don’t quite like it, the way he walks, like he’s got a bravado he hasn’t done anything to earn - rather the opposite in fact, given his grievous error in judgement. “That’s my new name.”

“Oh-” You glance up at him. “It suits you.”

Seokjin beams. He’s quiet for the next few moments, but you can sense his eagerness as he watches your fingertip move down the page. When all the documents are signed, you show him over to the chute, and he peers into it.

“This is the one-way?”

You nod. “We’ll send someone to relieve you once your sentence is up.”

He steps inside without hesitation, and it’s almost too late. You've been itching with curiosity since you opened his file, so you blurt out exactly what you’re not supposed to ask.

“Why did you do it?”

Seokjin tilts his head, confused.

“Why did you bring those humans back from the dead?” you clarify.

His eyes soften. “They’re my favourites.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you regard him. You don’t understand. Favourites? Angels aren’t supposed to have favourites. Angels aren’t supposed to be anything like him. Maybe you haven’t met enough to speak on the matter.

“Come visit me, won’t you? I get the impression you’ll like it down there.”

And before you can scoff at the very idea of visiting a banished (albeit temporarily) angel on earth, the chute opens up below him and he’s gone.

It’s difficult to get back to work after all that. All day there are punishments to give out in God’s name, but thankfully they’re nothing as extreme as that one. You get through a few sanctions, several warnings filed, and a strongly worded letter to the Department of Animals to remind them to stop creating wasps (apparently earth has enough) and then (at what would usually be known as 6pm), like clockwork, Turiel enters your office.

He’s another one you can’t get a read on, but in an entirely different way. He came up the ranks quickly, and became your boss without the necessary qualifications within a single century. He’s kind of course, but he’s a Watcher, so naturally he watches everything. Being watched makes you uncomfortable.

“How is everything?”

“Wonderful, thank you.”

“What happened with the banishment this morning?”

“With Seok- Soterasiel? He took it rather well.” Turiel stares at you, and you clear your throat to fill the awkward quiet. “Seemed quite happy about it, actually.”

Turiel frowns. “That’s odd.”

“Yes, quite.”

“We should watch that one,” he says, already making his way out. “Oh- you remembered to strip his miracles, correct?”

Strip his- why in heaven would you do that? It seems horribly cruel enough just to leave them there, let alone take their ability to do anything worthwhile.

“Sorry?”

Turiel stops on the spot and turns, frown deepening further. “Tell me you saw the memo from Metatron? We’re to strip any and all banishments of their miracles going forward. Too many mishaps and too many angel turned demon that still have their powers.”

If you had any blood in your face it would surely drain. No, you haven’t seen any blasted memo. The pigeonhole is stuffed to burst and it’s something you’ve been meaning to work through, you truly have, but there’s so little time in the day and- and- heavens, he’s still staring at you. Tell him the truth. Tell him you didn’t take Seokjin’s miracles. They’d overlook one error, especially as it’s the first offence. Surely?

“No need to worry,” you hear yourself say, voice unnaturally high. “Of course I did.”

Turiel blinks, smiles with relief, and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

For the first time in your existence, you’re tempted to curse.

879 BC

6:43pm. Patchy rain showers through til 8.

Seokjin’s home looks like nothing. A shack at best. It’s hardly worthy of the name home but you still need his sodding permission to cross the threshold, so you knock and wait, huddling as close to the door as possible to keep dry. As the rain pelts your back you bitterly wonder why angels have to wait at the threshold for permission to enter. It’s utterly beyond you, surely such a restraint could be reserved for those who are up to no good?

(You pointedly ignore the little voice saying that you are actually up to no good.)

“Oh my God,” Seokjin says when he opens the door (if it weren’t for the threshold force you’d keel over) and your nose wrinkles automatically at the blasphemy. “It’s you.”

“May I come in?” you say, too busy watching for Watchers in your peripherals to take in the sight of the angel in front of you. It would be terrible to be caught now, after the web of lies you weaved in order to get an hour off work.

“Why?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice. “You’re not bringing me back early are you?”

“Oh heavens no,” you say, starting to feel a little desperate, pushing the wet hair from your eyes. “I forgot something in your documents, a quick signature and I’ll be off in a jiffy.”

“You forgot something?”

“Yes-”

“And you decided two hundred and twenty-seven years later was the right time to fix that?”

“Time slips away when you’re working!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Your lot really need to unionise.”

“Shh!” you hiss. “Let me in, please?”

“Alright, alright,” he says, stepping aside. “Come on in. Take your shoes off at the door.”

“I don’t have shoes,” you say as you push past him. A little miracle as soon as you’re out of the rain has you dry and warm again. What a pity, you think, that Seokjin will have to live without these little perks for the rest of his banishment. The sympathy you feel for him catches you unawares. “What are shoes?”

Seokjin smiles. “Thought you were a watcher?”

Part Cherubim part Virtue actually, but you won’t be telling Seokjin that. That’s between you and God. You bustle past him inside the shack and you can finally relax. All protocols are being broken right now, but with the teeny tiny miracle that you performed earlier, only you and Seokjin will know about this clandestine meeting.

Seokjin’s home is much nicer on the inside. Rather homely. And clean. And it smells good. What is that smell?

“I just made some tea, would you like a cup?”

Drinking? Apparently you can’t hide your expression because Seokjin's responding smile is mirthful. “Haven’t changed much, have you?”

“I suppose not, no.”

There’s no time to dilly dally like this. If you’re not back in the office soon, there’ll be questions you won’t know how to answer without twisting the truth. An angel can’t be going around telling lies. It’s uncouth.

Seokjin busies himself at the table while you unroll the documents. The scroll is horribly long, but eventually you find the line you missed all those years ago. You cough to get his attention, and he looks up and takes the scroll from your outstretched hand.

But then he starts to read. Oh goodness gracious. You hadn’t expected that. He seemed the sort that wouldn’t get hung up on the details, that would trust an angel (one like yourself in particular) implicitly. It’s offensive, actually, that he doesn’t trust that you’re not trying to pull the wool over his eyes, even though that might be exactly what you were trying to do. Are you not trustworthy? Are you not angelic?

Seokjin frowns. Uh oh.

“You’re taking my miracles?”

“Uh-”

“Why?”

“Well- uh. It’s protocol, you see.”

Seokjin stares. The silence is palpable.

“You fucked up.”

You gasp. “Don’t curse!”

“You did!” he says, eyes wild. “You fucked up when you sent me down here!”

There’s heat creeping up your neck.

“It really doesn’t need to be such a big to-do,” you splutter. “Just sign the form, and I’ll be on my way and then you’ll be back in Heaven in no time at all!”

“But I won’t have my miracles?”

“You’ll get them back on your return!”

“What if I need them?”

“You won’t.”

“I’ve needed them a lot, actually,” Seokjin insists. “You’ve no idea how many sticky situations I’ve been in thanks to all the creatures our Heavenly Mother made!”

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Have you seen a tiger yet? Those are my favourite.”

Seokjin looks like he might slap you.

The door opens.

“Seokjinie-hyung! We’re back!”

We? Who’s we?

We are three men, one short, one tall, and one somewhere in the middle.

The room is very suddenly too small and too quiet as all of you stare at each other.

The small one’s eyes, wide and curious, dart between you and Seokjin.

“Who’s this, Seokjin hyung?”

“Uh-” you say.

“Uhh-” says Seokjin.

You can’t think of a human name. Not a single, blasted one comes to mind. Of course, humans know angels exist, but you can’t go around telling everyone who you are when you’re not exactly here on official business. Their mouths blabber too much. Word on Earth gets around faster than in Heaven.

“This is-”

“Oh my God-” the somewhere-in-the-middle one exclaims, while you grimace. “You’re that angel hyung told us about!”

You turn to glare at Seokjin, who is all of sudden very interested in the wood grain on the table. His ears are strawberry red. Strawberries were one of your ideas, you’d know that colour anywhere.

“You told them?” you say, incredulously. “What were you thinking?”

Seokjin sighs. “They’re not going to say anything.”

“Yeah!” the small one says. “Don’t worry, we’ve kept Seokijn hyung’s secret for two cent-”

He’s cut off by a loud cough from the tall one, but you’re not stupid. Humans aren’t supposed to be alive that long anymore, not since The Great Flood when God finally got sick of Noah and his bothersome family - that was one of the few memos you read.

“Seokjin-” you say slowly. He’s pointedly looking everywhere else but your face. “Are these the same humans you told me about during our first meeting?”

The small one grins. “Oh hyung, I knew you loved us more than you let on.”

Two centuries they’ve been alive - at least. Oh Goodness. You need to report it, but how could you without telling them you didn’t do your job properly.

“You don’t need to say anything to Heaven,” Seokjin says. “What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.”

“The protocol-” you start, but you’re cut off by a groan.

“Fuck the protocol! Don’t you want to think for yourself for once? Didn’t She give us free will for a reason?”

“She gave them free will, not us!” you reason. “We’re to do as we’re told!”

“Why? What for?”

“The Great Plan!”

“The Great Plan-” he parrots in the most condescending tone. “-is supposed to be ineffable. If we knew what was in it, we wouldn’t have a choice. If I didn’t have free will, I wouldn’t have been able to turn them into vampires.”

You frown, confused. Vampires weren’t in the handbook, but then you never could keep up. “What’s a vampire?”

Seokjin swallows thickly. “Uh. Nevermind that. The point is, if this wasn’t in The Great Plan, if it wasn’t written, would I have even been able to do it?”

The thought gives you pause. He’s got a point, actually. The Archangels talk often of fate and destiny and what She wrote. No one knows the plan, of course, and it can change at Her will, but the whole point of this charade is that you’re all to trust in God’s Plan, regardless of what happens.

There’s a long moment of silence. The three men- or rather, vampires- are still just standing there watching the two of you argue.

The small one finally breaks the tension and introduces himself. “I’m Jimin,” he says.

You nod, and give your name. He repeats it, butchering the pronunciation, but of course you expected that. Humans have never quite managed to get their tongue around it. You muse for a moment if you should give yourself a more human name, like Seokjin, but your thoughts are interrupted by the large one.

“I’m Namjoon,” he says, and points to the last one, who gives a tentative wave. “This is Taehyung.”

You nod again, and start to feel a little ridiculous.

Okay, so the plan needs to be adjusted. You can’t take away Seokjin’s miracles without getting him to undo whatever he did to the human-vampires.

“How long have you all been alive?”

Namjoon glances at Seokjin, who nods. “Around three hundred years.”

“Okay,” you say. “And do you plan on dying any time soon?”

The three of them stare at you. “It’s not something we’d considered, no,” whispers Jimin.

“Right,” you say, and then turn to Seokjin. “You need to fix this, make them human again. I’ve got to go, they’ll be looking for me, but I’ll be back soon to check in on you so you’d better have done it by then.”

Seokjin’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It’s… somewhat pleasant to look at.

“Pleasure to meet you everyone,” you say tightly to Seokjin’s friends. “Enjoy the rest of your lives.”

You catch their confused expressions shift into something horrified before you appear back at your desk in Heaven. It leaves you befuddled. That was a perfectly pleasant first interaction with humans that are aware of your celestial-ness - you’re not quite sure what they could be so bothered about.

827 BC

Early Autumn. 8:12am. Current Earthly conditions: foggy

It’s another fifty years or so before you can catch a break long enough to get back down to Earth. The shack has improved drastically - quite the pleasant looking home in fact. There’s flower boxes on the windowsills that are covered in a light morning dew, but the plants seem hardy. Purples and yellows. Dainty looking little things. You wonder what they might be.

The door opens as you bend to smell them, and you look up to find the angel wrapped up in the largest item of clothing you’ve ever seen for something that just seems to be used for a neck. It’s ever so bright. Mismatched colours and patterns that don’t seem to line up. One end of it drags along the floor. Seokjin doesn’t appear too pleased to see you.

“What are you wearing?” you ask, amused.

“Taehyung made me a scarf.”

“It’s very big.”

Seokjin glares.

“Did you really come to ruin my life so early in the morning?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re immortal. I hardly doubt this little blip will destroy you. More like God would if you don’t pull it together.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He’s got you there. But as you hold his gaze something in the air shifts, and he reluctantly lets you in. This time you take his offer of a cup of tea. You take a tentative sip, and it warms your belly in such an unexpected way. The weight of the cup is heavy in your hand, and the warmth of it seeps into your palm. It’s rather nice.

You sit at the same table he had fifty-something years ago. There’s a few more marks in the woodwork by now.

“Shall we get it over with then?” he says. “Where do I need to sign?”

You stop his hastiness with a gentle touch to his arm. He stares at your hand.

“Did you get everything in order first?” you ask.

Seokjin coughs. “Yes, of course.”

His ears are strawberry red again. The colour really is pretty, you’re glad you chose it. You’re glad you see it in other things, even if they are the tips of this angel’s ears.

“They’re dead?”

“Not yet,” he says, lips twisting bitterly around the words. “They’re living out the rest of their lives. You might get a chance to see them, if you stay awhile. They said they’d be popping by later.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s something. You know, I am really sorry about that. I thought about it after my last visit, and I think I understand now why you’d want to keep your friends around for longer.”

“Feeling lonely up there?” he asks, voice gentler than usual.

“No!” You snort with (only slightly put on) derision. “Of course not. Too busy for such a thing as loneliness.”

He chuckles. “Maybe I wasn’t busy enough then.”

You ignore what feels like a thimbleful of sadness dropping into your stomach.

Seokjin does most of the talking while you drink your tea. He talks about what he does down here - cooking mostly, but also a little pottery. He’s been training under a man called Yoongi. Says he made the cups you’re holding, and you inspect them. They’re quite ugly, thick and uneven- and you’re about to say as such, but Seokjin looks proud, so you smile and tell him he did very well, and that you like the colour of the clay. You wish you could bottle the way he beams.

All too soon the tea is finished, and Seokjin signs the document. It’s done. His eyes still shine, if a little less bright now.

“What now?” he asks.

You suck in a breath. “Your miracles are in trust until your return to Heaven. Until then you can live as a human. More or less.”

His eyes snap up. “I’m still immortal, right?”

“Oh of course,” you say with a laugh. “You think they’d go through all this trouble just to risk you being eaten by a giraffe?”

“Do you know anything about Earth?” Seokjin says it like you’re an idiot. “At all?”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes. “I know plenty-”

“Name one thing,” he interrupts, crossing his arms and looking at you with an almost amused expression.

You draw your shoulders back. You’ll give him three. “It weighs five point nine-seven septillion kilograms.”

Seokjin blinks three times fast. You must’ve caught him off guard with your knowledge. Good.

“It’s made up of thirty-two point one percent iron, fifteen point one percent silic-”

“Alright,” Seokjin says, lips twisting into a small smile. “I get it. You don’t need to prove yourself.”

You grin, ever so pleased with yourself, and Seokjin laughs.

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“Cute,” he repeats. “It’s a compliment.”

“Oh,” you say, wondering why reciting facts from the Earth’s handbook would warrant a compliment on your character. “Okay…” You look down at your mug and see it’s empty and you’re struck with a surprising pang of disappointment. The tea was really rather good, it’s something of a pity as you realise you won’t be able to make it the same back in Heaven.

“Well, I’d better get going. Paperwork to do. Miracles to take.”

“Of course,” says Seokjin, and stands to see you off. “If you visit again will you let me know in advance?”

“Why?”

“I’ll make dinner.”

You smile without thinking. “I don’t eat, Seokjin.”

“You know,” he says, in a very matter of fact tone. “Despite the fact that every time we meet you’re taking away something of mine, I’m growing quite fond of our meetings.”

You blink.

His eyes are so big and gentle and- “Let me know- okay?” he says with earnest.

“Okay,” you promise, already wondering when you could possibly get away long enough to watch Seokjin eat dinner.

“Would you like to take some flowers with you?” he asks suddenly. “I saw you smelling them.”

“Oh! Ye-” you start, and then you think better of it. So you plaster on a smile and say “No, that’s quite alright, I can whip some of my own up in no time at all.”

Seokjin nods. He looks like he’s going to say something else, but time is getting on and you’re not used to these odd goodbye rituals the humans (and this angel in particular) seem so fond of, so with a flash of a smile you’re back in Heaven. Seokjin and his lovely brown eyes remain on Earth.

Your office looks so bland in comparison to Seokjin's home.

It takes a second to notice that the cup he gave you is still in your hand, remnants of the sweet tea drying on the bottom. You briefly consider going back down, just to hand it over and say goodbye properly, but in walks Turiel to squash any ideas you have about leaving your post again.

“Great, you’re finally back,” he says, dumping a stack of files on your desk. “We’re swamped.”

“What happened?” you exclaim. You’re barely able to see him over the pile.

“Some bright spark in Organisms made a new virus. Let it loose in Greece without proper authorisation, killed half of them,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “The higher ups are fretting because one of the dead ones was supposed to be a prophet.”

Oh dear.

Turiel leaves without display. No time for pleasantries like offerings of tea and flowers up here. You sigh, dejected.

Being around Seokjin makes you wistful for things you didn’t know you wanted. You set the mug on your desk, turning it to and fro so you get a view of the prettier side- and with the smallest of miracles, there grows delicate flowers, in purple and yellow.

#bts fic #bts fanfction #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #bts seokjin #seokjin fluff #jin x you #jin x reader #thank u for reading #fic: don't let me tempt you #ksj x reader #ksj fic #ksj fluff #bee writes

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