#yes i know tomorrow is halloween but i need a whole entire month for this tbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpopfanfictrash · 3 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

1K notes · View notes

spine-buster · 3 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 31

A/N: Bubble chapters incoming.....!

July 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was getting frappucinos with Kasha.

She was happy she and Kasha were on the same page – that they would get tacos for a late dinner and bring them back to their place to eat. Neither were comfortable with dining in restaurants, even though it was allowed. It just wasn’t something they wanted to do just yet. So they’d take the tacos back to their apartment, sit on their balcony, and have a romantic date night with the frappucinos and – if Aberdeen was being honest – a bottle of rosé between them.

Kasha had to run to an ATM, so Aberdeen was left waiting for the tacos herself. It was a Saturday night, so the streets were somewhat busy – not as busy as they would have been during normal times, but busy enough that it made Aberdeen uncomfortable. What was everybody doing out? Where were they going? Who were they meeting up with? Why weren’t they staying at home? It was all very weird to her. Last summer she wouldn’t have even batted an eye; now, she was hyperaware of the people around her, hyperaware of standing six feet away from the other people ordering tacos, either in line or at the restaurant, and was clutching on to the strap of her bag so her hands didn’t fidget with her mask or touch anything else around her. She was getting tested every day at work, and thankfully she was lucky to have them always come back negative. She was being extra cautious. She didn’t want to—

“Aberdeeeeeen? Is that you?!” a voice suddenly called out from down the sidewalk.

Aberdeen looked to her right to see Saylor walking down the sidewalk with a posse of girls equally as glamourous as she was. Aberdeen looked down at her outfit and gulped. Leave it to Saylor to show up when she was waiting for a boatload of food and in clothes she just threw on to appear presentable in public. “Hey Saylor,” Aberdeen half-waved. More than anything, she was surprised to see Saylor in the city – from what she’d seen on Instagram, Saylor had gone back to Lake Forest during quarantine. Kasperi had joined her.

“You’re wearing a mask outside? I thought you didn’t have to here.”

“I was just inside,” Aberdeen pointed with her thumb to the restaurant. Not that she had to justify wearing a mask anywhere. The world was still in the midst of a fucking pandemic. “Just waiting for my food…and my friend.”

“These are my friends – Gina, Amanda, Jen, and Sadie,” she pointed to each girl. Aberdeen gave them all a quick nod. They couldn’t seem less interested in her. “Girls, Aberdeen works for the Leafs with Kasperi.”

Suddenly, all of their eyes shot forward. “Really?” the one identified as Jen asked. “What do you do?”

“I—I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she revealed reluctantly. She didn’t want to tell these girls anything, let alone her job.

“Kasperi told me you’re going into the bubble next week,” Saylor said before the conversation could go any further.

“I am,” she nodded, hesitating to even confirm the news to Saylor. After their last altercation in Los Angeles, Aberdeen was fine with never seeing her again. She was almost positive Saylor felt the same way, but apparently not.

“He said you’re going to be the only girl in there.”

Saylor was right. Aberdeen would be the only woman in the bubble for the Leafs. She was sure – well, she fucking hoped – that other women from other team staff would be at the hotel too. It would make the experience a lot less fucking awkward, that was for sure. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Saylor’s friend Gina snorted. “We all know what you’ll be used for.”

Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Now she knew why Saylor didn’t just ignore her and walk by her on the street. She wanted other people to do her dirty work for her. She wanted to re-live what happened in Los Angeles, except this time, it would be five against one.

“Not yet,” Saylor smiled wryly. “Not until she gets her nose job.”

The other girls laughed. Aberdeen narrowed her eyes at Saylor. “I fucking love my big nose, alright?”

“I’m sure you do. That’s very homely of you,” Saylor rolled her eyes. “And I’m warning you now, you better stay away from Kasperi in that bubble.”

Aberdeen snorted out loud. Actually snorted. “Oh my God, is that was this is about?” she asked indignantly. “You’re…Saylor, you’re joking right?”

Saylor didn’t look too pleased that Aberdeen was laughing at her. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t even touch him wearing a hazmat suit.”

Saylor took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. Aberdeen was laughing too much to care. The whole thing got so ridiculous so quickly that the only thing she could do was laugh. Saylor was completely out to lunch. “It’s so obvious that you’re so jealous of me,” she said.

“Saylor, I don’t even think about you at all.”

“We ready to go? I got our tacos,” Kasha’s voice suddenly interrupted the confrontation. Aberdeen looked behind her to see Kasha holding the bag up slightly, eyeing the situation. Aberdeen wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard. “Who’s this, Aberdeen?”

Aberdeen took a slight step back. “This is Saylor. Kasperi’s girlfriend.”

Kasha nodded once. “Have fun,” she said to the group of girls before linking her free arm around Aberdeen’s. As they took their first step forward, Kasha looked at Aberdeen. “Kasperi? Is that the one that DM’ed me?” she asked. Loudly.

Aberdeen didn’t turn around to see Saylor’s reaction. She didn’t need to. She knew she would have never seen someone turn so red so quickly in her entire life. And as they walked down the street, the wry smile on Kasha’s face grew. “Was that okay?” Kasha asked.

“You’re brilliant,” Aberdeen said. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do – okay, it definitely wasn’t the nicest thing to do – but God did it feel good. Kappy had never DM’ed Kasha before in her life. Aberdeen wasn’t even sure Kappy knew who Kasha was even though he met her at the Halloween party. “I might get a phone call later, but it was brilliant.”

“If you get a phone call, I’ll let them know that she said you weren’t hot enough without a nose job,” Kasha said.

“So you heard that?”

“That’s when I came in. The guy was calling your name and so I grabbed the food and lingered.”

Aberdeen smiled. “I love you, bitch.”

“Love you too, bitch.”

***

Message from: Kasperi Kapanen

I heard u ran into Saylor tonite?

Yes

Why did Kasha say I slid into her DMs?

Must have had to do with the fact that Saylor told me I wasn’t pretty enough for any of you to fuck in the bubble unless I got a nose job.

***

minskatt what did saylor say to u tn?

Nothing important because you love my nose and that’s all that matters

can i call u

No I’m with Kasha

minskatt please

It’s fine Willy I don’t care She’s dumb She thinks I’m jealous of her And she told me to stay away from Kappy in the bubble She thinks I want to sleep with him I mean 🤣

omg

Please don’t worry about it I’ll see you tomorrow

i love u

I love you too I want you to cum down my throat tomorrow Okay?

🥴🥴🥴

***

July 25th, 2020

Aberdeen and William promised each other they would take it slow because they wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

They were both fully packed. Aberdeen’s suitcase was packed back in her bedroom. A two-month supply of food and cat litter was bought for Minerva so that Kasha wouldn’t have to go get any, just in case the Leafs went all the way (which meant, at the end of August, she’d be getting on a plane to Edmonton, too). She had organized outfits – work and casual. She made sure to bring entertainment. The Louis Vuitton duffel bag they all got her for her birthday definitely came in handy. William had packed some clothes and shoes. Made sure to pack the basic necessities. He’d texted guys on the team to see what they were bringing in so he didn’t forget anything. He wasn’t the best packer.

Now, all that was left was to spend time together before they couldn’t anymore.

William didn’t want to go straight into sex. There was no point. The sex was great but what he wanted, more than anything, was intimacy – to be able to hold Aberdeen and feel her body pressed up against his; to be able to take in her scent as he always did and be calmed by it as he always was; to be able to bury his face in the crook of her neck and graze his lips along her skin there so delicately it made her shiver; to whisper ‘I love you’ over and over again to her while “Quitting You” by the Arkells played on a constantly loop quietly in the background of their time together. This is what he would miss. Florida was different – they were a country away from each other, and it was hard. But to have her working with them, in the same bubble, while everyone was around, on the same floor, and not be able to get her alone, go to her hotel room, even hold her hand? It would be torture.

He laid his head on her chest, hearing and feeling her heart beat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and buried underneath her – he was sure the circulation would cut off soon but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes, and pictured them holding hands. Openly. Aberdeen was smiling. He pulled her into him and kissed her. They were in the team locker room.

“What are you thinking about?” Aberdeen’s soft voice broke the silence.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

“What about us?” she asked.

“Holding your hand,” he said. “Kissing you in the locker room.”

When he shifted his head to look up at her, she was smiling. “Do you hate me because we can’t?”

He shook his head. “I could never hate you, minskatt. You know that.”

“It’ll happen soon. I promise,” she said. “You won’t have to do anymore waiting.”

“Shhhh…” he cooed, moving up and nuzzling his nose against her jawline. “I’m not waiting for anything when you’re here with me, am I?” he asked, placing the lightest of kisses on her jawline.

Aberdeen sighed happily. “When I write my first book, I’m dedicating it to you. It’s gonna say ‘For William, for waiting’,” she said with a slight chuckle.

He chuckled too. “I look forward to it. Your second book can be dedicated to Siena or Cam or your parents.”

“Second book? I’m writing a second book, am I?” she smiled.

“Mhm,” he nodded her. “You’re gonna write a bunch of books, minskatt. And they’re all gonna be amazing, and you’ll be all literary or whatever, and everybody’s gonna buy your books.”

Her heart was growing a thousand sizes. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re gonna be a famous writer, minskatt. I’ll just be in the background.”

She curled around and shifted her body into his. Their lips came together tenderly as they began kissing each other, Aberdeen slipping her tongue into William’s mouth easily. His hands wandered down her body to cup her ass before he helped her hook her leg over his torso. They lay kissing for a while until their lips were red and swollen and their breathless gasps the only sound they could hear in the room. When William pulled away quickly to take a breath, Aberdeen shifted to lay on her back. “Willy?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Minskatt?”

“Make love to me, Willy. One last time before the bubble.”

He picked her up and brought her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed gently before crawling over her body and continuing their kissing. With some trusty hands, William’s hoodie was off, then Aberdeen’s top, then Aberdeen’s pants, then William’s pants. He kissed down her body, but she pulled him back up. “Willy—”

“Minskatt—”

“I just need to feel you inside me, Willy. Please.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he kissed his way back up her body, paying attention to her breasts for a while before he put on a condom and she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. Everything was so slow and gentle and intimate, and he’d buried his face into the crook of her neck again to kiss the skin there. When he came back up and looked at her, it was very clear to him that there were tears welling in her eyes. His mind immediately went into overdrive and his body seized up. “Aberdeen? Aberdeen why are you crying?”

“I’m not – no – no no no, it’s not you, it’s not you,” she let out quickly, cupping his face in her hands. His entire body had stopped moving as he hovered over here. She felt a few tears escape down the sides of her eyes, powerless to stop them. “It’s just me. It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You believe in me, Willy.”

“Of course I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you. Where is this coming from?”

“It was Florida. Sixty-one days away from you,” she explained. “Now in the bubble we’re going to be together but we can’t be together, and I want you to know how much I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Whatever happens in the bubble, I believe in you and I’ll always believe in you like you believe in me,” she said.

William’s heart panged at her statement. He craned his head to continue to kiss her, and she could feel tears – not her own – on her cheeks as well. His slow and steady movements, passionate and thorough and pleasurable all at once, reminded her of that love they just spoke of. They made love with everything they had in them. And when they climaxed, and William collapsed on top of Aberdeen’s body, she held him close to her, unwilling to let him go.

He shifted slightly to move out of her, but she tightened her legs around him. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay. I want to feel you inside me for as long as possible.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please Willy,” she almost begged, although she knew she wouldn’t have to. “Stay. Let’s just stay like this.”

***

July 26th, 2020

Aberdeen’s family had made it to the staff send-off before they went into the bubble. Camden and Siena came along too. Camden made her a card and gave her a crossword puzzles book he’d bought her at Indigo. When Siena hugged her, she said “Make good choices!” jokingly. Their parents would always say it to them before they got out of the car when they were driven to parties or the like.

If Siena only knew.

Once her family left, Aberdeen had the fantastic tasks of preparing the buses and organizing significant others to be far enough away from each other so everyone was still social distancing. Everybody’s significant other was there, save for the single guys like Auston and (to everyone else) William. As she stood off to the side, she couldn’t help but watch.

Bee McTavish was crying. She wasn’t wailing loudly or anything like that, but Aberdeen could see her glistening cheeks from her tears as Morgan couldn’t stop kissing her and she couldn’t stop wiping her eyes. He looked pretty torn up about leaving her, too. She knew all the guys would be. They were excited to play hockey again but they weren’t too sold on the concept of the bubble. Everyone was going to hate being away from their families – Bee and Morgan were no exception. “Call me whenever you want to,” Aberdeen overheard her tell him. “And if a single thing starts to hurt you please don’t play. You need to be healthy, Morgan.”

Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas couldn’t stop kissing, either. Aleida was getting emotional, although Aberdeen knew that Aleida didn’t want to show it. Fred’s new wedding ring glistened in the light. Aberdeen could only imagine what it was like to leave your wife on your one-month anniversary.

Jace was giggling at his dad’s kisses. John had spent the last five minutes holding and kissing his baby boy, with Aryne smiling and cuddling them too. Aberdeen could see Aryne’s small bump peeking out through her t-shirt and realized John was going into the bubble while his wife was pregnant and having to take care of a one-year-old. Her heart ached. She saw the smile on John’s face as he cooed at his son and Jace kept repeating “Dada” over and over again and she could feel a rush of emotion flood her face.

When she saw that Jason had his four girls in a giant bear hug, Aberdeen had to hold in a giant sob. He was crouching down at their level, kissing them all multiple times and whispering things to them as Jen looked on, looking like she was on the verge of tears herself. Jason wouldn’t let them go – couldn’t let them go. Aberdeen had to look away so she didn’t start crying right then and there. It was too much for her to think about.

“You okay, Aberdeen?” Auston’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she whipped her head towards him.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the scenes she just saw. “Do you need me to pack your bag in the bus?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna make you pack my bag, Aberdeen,” he said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Aberdeen looked at Auston, but could only see right past him. Behind him, she could see Kappy and Saylor saying their goodbyes. Saylor was hugging Kappy but giving Aberdeen a death stare. Aberdeen focused her attention back on Auston. “How much does Saylor hate me?” she asked.

Auston shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t talk to her anymore. But from what I hear, a lot.”

“Good to know. What have you heard? Because she thinks I want to sleep with Kappy.”

Auston smiled. “Something like that.” Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully, smiling back at Auston. “For what it’s worth, she thinks everybody wants to sleep with Kappy,” Auston said. “You know, because he’s just so good looking.”

“You ready for the bubble?” Saylor’s voice suddenly surprised them from behind Auston. Because of their conversation, they hadn’t seen her approach. Auston jumped slightly. He noticed that Saylor was staring directly at Aberdeen.

“As ready as we can be, I think,” Aberdeen said.

“Just remember what I told you!” Saylor said in a playful tone. “Stay six feet away from my boyfriend!”

“Just for you, Saylor, I’ll make it ten,” Aberdeen winked. “I’ll put a pole between us if that’d what you prefer.”

***

There were cameras everywhere covering their arrival. Naturally, of course, since they were the Toronto Maple Leafs. Aberdeen only hoped that she wasn’t caught in any of the photos. She’d already had enough of a time with her identity and stalkers showing up outside her apartment. She didn’t need people to be lingering outside of the bubble gates for her as well.

They checked in. Everything was eerie. They could only go up the elevators two at a time with their suitcases after they got their welcome packages and key cards. Aberdeen was situated at the first room to the right side of the elevators. The equipment staff, trainers, doctor, and coaches were in the wing as well. Kyle and Brendan had their rooms opposite each other at the very end of the hallway. The social media person was across from her. A few more of the equipment guys were on “her” side of the hallway. To the left of the elevators were the team rooms. William was the second room in, in the middle between Auston and Mitch. Jason was in the middle of the hallway. She knew these things because – as the executive assistant to perhaps the most important executive there – she got a copy of the room allocations and floorplan.

When she walked into her room, it was set up like any normal, swanky hotel room. There was a queen-sized bed and a big, beautiful window that looked directly out onto the CN Tower. The bathroom was big and immaculate. Things were practically shining. She hauled her suitcase onto the bed before going to the window to push the curtains open. If she was going to have a view of the city, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

When she walked back to her bed, something on the nightstand caught her eye, and she walked over to it. Once she realized what they were, her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know who was responsible for this. But it made her so emotional. There were three frames with pictures in them, each more sentimental than the last. In the first frame, there was a mashup of two pictures: one of she and Siena when Siena attended the game in Ottawa, and one of she and Camden when Camden visited right before lockdown. The second picture was the group shot of the outdoor practice, where she was freezing her butt off but having the time of her life. The third, and perhaps the one that hit her the most, was a picture from the Night With the Blue and White. In it, she was posing for a picture with Brendan, Jason, and William, with a champagne flute in her hand. Her smile took up half her face.

She let out a sob.

It wasn’t that she looked so happy. It wasn’t that she could still remember the way William smelled that night. It wasn’t how less than ten hours after the picture was taken, she and William had sex and admitted they wanted to be in a secret relationship. It wasn’t that they had followed through with that promise now for months. It was that the picture depicted normalcy. Her job. Brendan. Jason. William. It depicted life before masks, before social distancing, before hand sanitizer being more readily available than water, before lining up outside of grocery stores. It depicted a life that seemed so far in the past. Giant gathering. Group photos. Seeing someone teeth when they smiled. Putting your arms around another person for a hug.

Now, she found herself alone in a hotel room, within an artificially created bubble, for a hockey team, with no physical contact with the outside world. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing.

***

William decided to call Aberdeen. Everybody was holed up in their rooms unpacking everything they bought, and the hotel was eerily quiet for so many people staying in it. He figured it was because the hotel was old, and its walls were solid – none of this new construction, shitty craftsmanship. These building was built by fucking donkeys, as evidence by the photographs in the lobby. Donkeys and stone; so these walls were thick. Some of the boys had checked up on him to make sure his PlayStation set up had gone smoothly. It did. But William could care less.

“Hello?” Aberdeen answered her phone.

He could immediately tell she’d been crying. “What’s wrong, minskatt?”

“These damn pictures they put up in my room,” she admitted immediately – no need to beat around the bush. “They framed the one we took with Jason and Brendan during the Night With the Blue and White.”

William understood completely how and why that would affect her. “Yeah, I get it. They put a bunch of pictures of my family. Well, my parents and my sisters.”

“No Alex?”

“He’s too ugly to be in a picture,” William deadpanned. He heard Aberdeen snort slightly on the other end. He found solace in the fact that he was able to make her laugh. “The pictures really got to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t just that,” she said. “Just seeing all the families say goodbye to each other. I watched John say goodbye to Jace and it made me emotional, but then I saw Jason saying goodbye to his girls and I absolutely lost it,” she revealed. “I kept it together for the bus ride but the second I got in here and saw these pictures, it was, like, a tidal wave.”

“How can I make it better?” William asked. He knew this would be hard on her – being in the bubble – and although he cautioned against it, Aberdeen made her own decision at the end of the day, and he respected that. It didn’t mean the bubble experience would be any better for her, but at least she made the decision herself and she came into it knowing what she was getting herself into. Aberdeen wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it.

“You wanna just stay on the phone with me? So I can hear your voice?” she asked timidly.

“Of course,” he answered, equally as softly. She could practically see and feel his smile through the phone. “Want to practice your Swedish with me, minskatt?”

***

July 27th, 2020

“A girl?!”

Aberdeen’s ears turned red as she heard the gasp from behind her near the conference room where the Leafs were designated to eat all their meals. She was apparently a novelty. Because they had to stay holed up in their hotel rooms for most of the day, unless it was a pre-planned excursion or meal, she hadn’t seen any other women. It was awful. And now this.

She looked behind her as discreetly as she could. She saw two men – boys – wearing New York Islanders t-shirts staring at her. She recognized them immediately as Mat Barzal and Anthony Beauvillier. She glared at them.

“Is she here delivering the food?”

“She has a badge, you idiot.”

“You’re telling me she works for the team and they brought her into the bubble?”

She wanted to scream at them. But she didn’t have to. Kyle Dubas appeared out of nowhere right beside her, clutching a coffee and a banana. “Miss Bloom,” he greeted her formally, and loud enough so Mat and Anthony could hear. “Shanahan is going to need those CORSI stats for Matthews and Tavares after we eat.” He glanced at them quickly. “Boys,” he nodded a greeting.

They scurried away.

Aberdeen looked at Kyle. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Does Shanny really need those CORSI stats?” she asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “I said that so they wouldn’t fuck with you.”

***

July 28th, 2020

Aberdeen was waiting for the exhibition game to start. Yet again, she was experiencing her second exhibition game for a hockey team she never thought she would work for, let alone for this long. She was in their usual box with Kyle and Brendan, but it felt different. No fans. No other personnel. The only other people around were the extra players sitting in the seats below them. The media was around somewhere, but nowhere near her. The boys were warming up on the ice.

“You okay?” Brendan asked as he looked at her.

Aberdeen nodded. “Are you?”

“As okay as I can be,” he shrugged. “I don’t get nervous about exhibition games.”

“Did you think I’d be here long enough for two sets of exhibition games?” Aberdeen asked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.

He huffed, giving her a joking look. She began giggling. “To be honest…no.”

“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry.”

***

Thirty-three seconds into the first period, Ilya Mikheyev scored off a pass from John Tavares that Aberdeen had seen one hundred times in training camp. She smiled wide.

Hockey was back.

163 notes · View notes

toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

The Screw // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This wasn't a request BUT I loved it. It's based off of the gif below.

Summary - Matthew gives the screw from his knee to a special girl.

Word Count - 1.5k

Y/n had been in a loving relationship with Matthew for quite some time, 3 years, 9 months and 16 days to be exact. She was 100% sure that he was the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The biggest thing in their relationship was Halloween, of course.

She had weathered more than 3 Halloweens with the man. Before they were together, they bought eachothers costumes. She got him a sexy nurse costume, and Matthew was not one to back down from a dare. So he wore it to the Halloween party and proudly told everyone that she had gotten it for him.

He had been nice and bought her a cloak from Harry Potter, it was even a cloak from your Hogwarts House. She was so grateful, and felt just a little *guilty*. A few months later they were together, just as everyone suspected they would be.

Their next Halloween they went with a little classic, PB&J. They stayed by eachothers sides the entire night to keep the costume true to itself. *Totally not because they couldn't get enough of eachother.*

The next year they were Scooby Doo characters. But they weren't what you would have expected. Not Fred and Daphne, no no.

They were Shaggy and Scooby.

Matthew had happily bounced around they party in his big Scooby costume, shouting every once in a while "Scooby Dooby Do!" To anyone who asked who he was. Y/n ventured around the house in a short dirty blonde wig, a Tie-Dye shirt, cargo shorts, and a comically large bong. Everyone quite enjoyed their weird sense of humor and obvious disregard for what people thought.

Last year they went as something only they would understand.

Matthew went as Edgar Allen Poe. He wore a white collared button up with a black scarf. Paired with black pants and a black suit jacket over it all. Y/n had used temporary hair dye to color his hair black, and they purchased a fake mustache to pull it all together. He then wanted her to go as Annabelle Lee.

*"You know that there is no description of Anabelle in his writing, right?" She argued.*

*"Yes, but he loved her so much. He loved her as she was and it was so strong that you don't even need to know how she looked." He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "Just go in something flowy maybe, but go as you are. That's how I love you, that's why I love you." He said the words so nonchalantly, but they struck her in the heart like the sharpest of cupids arrows.*

*"Where do you come up with this beautifully poetic stuff?" She giggled, feeling more giddy and drunk in love than she had in quite a while.*

*"I'm Edgar Allen Poe, duh."*

So they went like that. They had to explain to so many people how their costume worked, and all of them found it *disgustingly* beautiful. It seemed that they were straight out of a book how perfect they were.

But this year they went back to their usual shenanigans. Matthew wanted to be something cheesy this year. He let her come up with 10 cheesy costumes, and he would make the final decision. She had been so excited about all of the costumes. After creating a list over the course of 2 days, she happily brought it to their living room and set the list on front of him.

1. Fred and Wilma Flintstone

2. Jim and Pam from The Office

3. Olive Oyl and Popeye

4. Oreo cookies

5. Sailor and Mermaid

6. Zombie Bride and Groom

7. Cookie and Milk

8. Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin

9. Magician and Rabbit

10. Barbie and Ken

He took one look at the list and knew exactly which one he wanted.

"I think we should do Zombie Bride and Groom." His answer came so quickly that it startled y/n a bit. But a smile was quickly plastered onto her face.

"Perfect! We can go get the costumes tomorrow and work on them." She picked up the list and circled the decision in red pen, a child like excitement shone in her eyes.

The latest Halloween party had come quicker than expected, and the couple was grateful for it. Matthew had been both extremely excited and nervous for this night. Y/n had practically been bouncing off the walls since they woke up that morning.

She woke up early to make Matthew breakfast in bed. She had looked up a tutorial online to make skull pancakes with yolks in the eyes. After she finished them they looked pretty pitiful, but Matthew looked at them like it was a painting by Vincent Van Gogh.

"Did you make these?" He sat up in the bed groggily, smelling syrup and warm pancakes.

"Yeah, they don't look that great." A nervous giggle erupted from her throat.

"I love them!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a hug on the bed. "Happy Halloween baby."

When 7 o'clock finally rolled around, y/n was standing in the bathroom, facing her full size mirror. She smoothed her hands down the white dress. It was only a 30 dollar dress, but she felt a little bad still that they tore it up for the sake of the costume. It was torn in multiple places, along with blood splatters here and there. Matthew had bloodied up his hand and put a few hand prints on it. Regardless, she thought it was cozy and warm to be in a wedding dress, even for Halloween. Blood was painted around her mouth and black eyeshadow around her eyes to make then seem sunken in. She had done something similar for her boyfriend. After admiring the wonderful Halloween work, she headed out to the living room.

Matthew had sat there on the couch the whole time she was in the bathroom. He was fiddling with a small box that he intended on using tonight. His foot tapped almost silently on the carpeted floor. The box was skillfully slipped into his back pocket as he heard the door to the bathroom click open.

"Ready?" She nodded her head violently as she grabbed his hand and lead him through the door.

The party was like any other. It was being held at AJ Cooks house as a final official get together for the cast and friends. Everyone whooped as y/n and Matthew entered her house.

"Going with another cool couples costume this year I see." AJ wore and FBI vest from the set. Y/n pulled at the strap of it a bit.

"I see *someone* stole a prop from set." She shrugged with a smile.

"Come on, it's my favorite thing to wear, and what better time to wear it." She giggled.

"I love it!"

"Well, enjoy the party you two." She gestured between us.

"We always do." Then they were off into the party.

They had each drank copious amounts of punch that had a floating head in it and eaten many 'bloody' pigs in a blanket, Matthew was running out of time, he thought. He brought her out to the backyard where there was a minimal amount of people.

"Aren't the stars pretty tonight?" She pointed to the sky as she leaned on his chest. He stared down at her messy figure, covered in blood but still looking more perfect to him than ever.

"Yes they are." She peered up to see him staring.

"You're so cheesy." Seeing her smile like that, he decided this was the right time. He unraveled her from his arms, pointing behind them.

"Hey, I think someone is calling for you over there." She whipped her head around to see that no one was standing there.

"Are you delusional?" She questioned with a chuckle. He was already down on one knee with the box. Once she span around her eyes immediately turned to the ground, happy tears already brimming. She looked closer at the object he was holding and let out a quiet sob.

"Is that," she sniffled, "Is that the screw from your knee." She laughed a bit into the statement, leaning down to examine it.

"Maybe?" His head tilted with the biggest smile she had ever seen on the man.

"Oh my gosh I love it so much." She grabbed it from his hands and pulled him to his feet. The small screw sat in the palm of her hand, rolling around a bit.

"I said I was going to give it to a special girl some day." Her face lit up at the statement. "I totally forgot to ask if you would marry me." He remarked with a dumbfounded look.

"Is that even a question?" She squealed, placing her arms around his neck. He pulled a second box from his pocket that held a ring and slipped it on her finger. They both stood and hugged for a while, just reveling in eachother presences.

"I hope you know I'm bringing this screw to the wedding, I'm gonna wear it as a necklace." She whispered excitedly.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." He placed a loving kiss on *his* y/n's head.

The feeling was mutual that they couldn't *wait* to spend the rest of their lives with eachother.

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic

379 notes · View notes

ramen-rambles · 4 years

Text

HC: Going On A Disney Date

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Kirishima Eijirou x Reader, Kaminari Denki x Reader, Todoroki Shouto x Reader, Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Warnings: None! Just fluffy goodness

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: Just some headcanons on what spending a day at the parks would be like with your favorite boys. (btw, this is based on the Disney parks in Anaheim!)

A/N: S/O to the discord for indulging me in my Disney obsession :’D Fun fact, when I went to Disneyland for Halloween, I borrowed my friend’s Pikachu kigurumi so that I could lowkey cosplay as Denki LOL

Taglist: @jojosmilktea

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

You had to do so much convincing to get him to even go to one park, let alone two

Teases you and smirks saying, “Why do you want to go to some lame theme park? I’m all the fun you need, princess.”

Bakugou ends up giving in to your begging because… how can he resist such a cute face?

He is super whiny in the beginning, literally complaining about every little thing

“Why the fuck is all the shit here so damn expensive?”, “The lines are too fucking long!”

Don’t even bother trying to get him to wear any kind of Mickey Ears either

He thinks it looks adorable on you though, not that he’d admit it

However, after seeing how much fun you were having, he eases up a bit and begins to enjoy himself too

Actually, he ends up becoming more excited than you

Once you start getting tired from all the walking and constant queuing, he mocks you and says “What? You’re tired already? I could keep this up for hours!”

His go-to pose for the ride photos is to flip off the camera

And yes, you guys end up buying a copy of all the pictures because he thinks it’s fucking hilarious

His favorite attraction to go on is Toy Story Midway Mania because he knows he’ll kick your ass and get a higher score than you; or Radiator Springs Racers, so he can win the race and kick other people’s ass

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

He’s such a child at heart that he was actually the one who asked you to go to Disneyland

Had already bought the tickets in advance because he already knew you’d say yes. You felt kind of bad that he had to spend all that money for both of your tickets

“E-eji, are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? These tickets must have been so expensive!”

“Don’t worry about it babe, I’ve been saving my allowance to buy us these tickets. I wanted to take you out on a magical date at the happiest place on earth!”

He really was the sweetest boyfriend

On the days leading up to your date, you two start planning out matching outfits, what rides you guys for sure want to go on, and all the new foods you can’t want to try!

The night before, the two of you have a Disney movie marathon, snuggled up on the couch eating popcorn while watching all those childhood classics!

His favorite movie is The Little Mermaid because where else did you think he got the inspiration to dye his hair red? Princess Ariel

Day of, you guys are BEYOND excited

Kirishima wakes up extra early to start getting ready, letting you get in a few more minutes of sleep

Once you get there, the first thing you both do is take a picture in front of Main Street! He pretty much documents your entire trip on his phone, taking candid photos of you being the cutie you were

He makes it his new lockscreen wallpaper

While he was waiting in line to buy some food, you went to the shop and bought a matching pair of Mickey and Minnie ears, wanting to surprise him

Smothered you in smooches because he was so happy you guys were matching head to toe, literally

“Thanks babe! I’m never gonna take this off!”

And he never took his ears off. He wore it all day. How it didn’t fall of his head was a question you had no answer to

You two were the definition of cringey couple; matching outfits, constant PDA

Not that he cared what other people thought. He was happy and you were happy, that’s all that mattered to him

Go-to ride pose is leaning over next to you, grabbing your entire face, and giving you a big kiss on the cheek

Favorite ride is Hyperspace Mountain, loves the thrill of it plus, it makes his hair look extra spikey because the wind pushes it back up

KAMINARI DENKI

You guys are such kids, after you guys went the first time, you came back so often and ultimately decided that it would be better to buy annual passes

Your guy’s Disney trips were always very spontaneous, to say the least

Kaminari would be like, “Hey babe, what if we go to Disneyland tomorrow?”

“Come again? You want to go to Disneyland tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why not? We haven’t been in awhile” He says, nonchalantly

Giving in to his pouting, that’s how the two of you usually end up at the parks

You go so often you basically have a routine down

You two take turns doing everything; driving, paying for parking, paying for food, etc

During the drive there, you guys are singing non-stop. For some reason, he knows almost all the lyrics to every single song, making you wonder how he can memorize all those words and somehow still have no clue how to remember a simple math formula

You guys also try to Disney Bound (basically, it’s a lowkey cosplay) most of the time, but if not, you guys will always wear matching outfits

Unlike most people, he actually really enjoys wearing the Mickey ears, he thinks he looks extra cute in them. You agree

His ride pose often changes, from ‘hitting the woah’ to literally bringing a prop on the ride, he just does whatever he thinks is funny

But you often collaborate with each other while waiting in line to decide what pose you should do together; if no ideas come up, throwing up a peace sign is the standard move

Favorite ride to go on is Splash Mountain, hands down. He always asks to sit in the front. For some reason, he loves the feeling of getting absolutely fucking drenched

As a tradition, you two always make it your last ride of the night. Since it’s colder, there’s really not much of a wait, meaning you guys have an entire log to yourselves and can pretty much go on it as many times as your hearts desire

TODOROKI SHOUTO

You were aware that Todoroki had probably never been to Disneyland before, considering he spent most of his childhood training

So when you asked him if he’s ever actually gone to the parks, he was like, “Isn’t that the amusement park who has a rat as their mascot? His name is Mikey, right?”, “So, Elsa has an ice quirk too?”

You swore that this boy would be the death of you

You were quick to educate him on all things Disney, telling him stories of when you were younger and how they were some of your fondest memories as a kid

Wanting your boyfriend to share the same experience as you, you eagerly suggested that the two of you must go together one day, and he seemed just as eager with his response

He said, “Okay then, let’s go this Saturday. It’s the weekend so we most likely won’t be busy anyways.”

“Uh Shouto, honey, I’d love to go but I’m pretty broke right now, tickets are expensive so it’ll probably take me a few weeks to save up for —“ you complained

He cut you off right there and says that he’ll pay for everything, whipping out Endeavor’s credit card

Why did he have that on him??

Before you could protest and scold him for using someone else’s card, it was too late because he already bought them

Once in the parks, he seems to be quite fascinated by everything, but his focus tends to stay on you, watching how excited you get over every little thing

You guys get matching ears, but he’s not too keen on wearing them. At most, he’ll wear it for pictures, but that’s about it. But he also can’t help but admire how cute you look in them

Buys you literally anything you want. Overpriced merchandise? Done. Overpriced food? You bet. Overpriced everything? Abso-fucking-lutely. Doesn’t care about the price, as long as you’re happy

Even if he doesn’t explicitly show it, he’s actually having a lot of fun!

Being in such a magical place with his favorite person in the world makes him want to go back, reliving those childhood moments he didn’t really have

Inevitably, he ends up upgrading your tickets to an annual pass

“You bought us annual passes?! Why did you do that, and when?!”

“I did it on the app, while you were in that long line for the bathroom.” He said, feigning innocence

You two end up going at least twice a month, if not more. Pretty much going there to just hang out and walk around

His poses for the rides aren’t really poses per se, it’s really just his poker face. Occasionally, you’ll pinch his cheeks to give a little flare to your photos

Favorite ride is Soarin’ Around The World. He likes the visual appeal. Plus, the orange scent smells really good

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Both of you guys were equally excited to go!

You two had planned to go for some time now, saving up enough money to buy tickets and acknowledging the fact that you guys would spend a lot on food and other things

Izuku is such a nerd that he basically makes an entire schedule of your guy’s stay, morning until night

He grabs a copy of the park map and actually brings a pen to circle which rides you guys want to go on throughout the day

He will definitely download the app in order to keep track of wait times

Plans for which rides you guys should go on first, taking into account the the events that people would be watching instead of waiting in lines, making the most of your time

“Okay, if the wait time for Radiator Springs Racers is 90 minutes, by the time we’re done, we should make it just in time to use our fastpass for Grizzly River Run…”

It kind of amazes you how articulate he was about this whole thing

“Wow, babe. I can’t believe you planned for all of that, I thought we were just going with the flow.” You said, teasing him for being such a nerd. How cute

His hero costume basically had bunny ears on them, so he didn’t complain about wearing the Mickey ears

You two take lots of pictures, you guys even wait in that long line to take that cliché couple photo in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle

Go-to pose varies depending on the ride, usually the camera catches him by surprise, so in almost all of the pictures, he looks like he’s about to cry

Doesn’t really have a favorite ride but his absolute favorite thing to do is to watch the fireworks towards the end of the night

He enjoys just sitting there and holding you close in his arms while you two watch the show and sing along to the music

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜

Hope you liked these! Thank you for reading~

masterlist

1K notes · View notes

hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years

Note

Ways you said I love you prompt: Without needing to say the words

I couldn’t find this prompt on the list, but it was so beautiful the story started writing itself in my head. Thank you very much for asking ❤️

Ways you said I love you: Without needing to say the words.

Draco dreams of the forest. A forest, he supposes, but it feels like the forest.

In the dream, he’s holding a stone and looking at the ghostly figure of Harry Potter. In the dream, he’s crying. He can hear his parents calling out for him, he can hear, still, the echo of bombardas that he knows should have ended hours before.

He knows, in the dream, that things had gone the way he always knew they had to. He knows that he wishes they hadn’t. That, in the dream, he’s devastated.

That heartbreak follows him into daylight, drapes itself over him like a cloak. He feels it when he wakes, feels it as he walks the halls of the manor he commands, feels it as he’s told by his house elf that his father has called by floo and is waiting for him. He feels it as he hears him say, “the Potter boy was seen in Dorset three days ago. You know what to do if you find him.”

The heartbreak follows him all day, because he knows if he sees Harry Potter, he has to kill him. He knows that he will. And he mourns him already, the man he has never met, the man who is more legend than man, because he remembers himself standing in that forest. Because, in a dream, he knew him.

He also knows what’s expected of him, and he will follow through. Even if it kills him.

But this is not that kind of story.

What happened was this: the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord was born as the seventh month died.

And so, one fateful Halloween night, the man who called himself Lord Voldemort aimed his wand at that baby, after killing everyone standing on his way. He didn’t flinch or bat an eye, way past the point of hesitating before taking a life, even if it was the life of an innocent, wide-eyed one year old who stared at him with his arms outstretched, looking for comfort. He aimed his wand and said the words that would kill him.

The babe, defenseless, just sat there.

...but killing off a child would not be very PG-13 of us, would it, and so what happened was this: the little boy broke the Killing Curse as it slammed against him, turned it into endless fragments of green light, tendrils of black magic that floated up into the ceiling like dancing fingers, fading into nothing. Some of it slipped inside of him through his weeping little baby mouth, through his wide green eyes, through the jagged crack the impact put on his forehead, but most of it – gone.

And yes, the boy was nestled in a cocoon of protective magic strengthened by his parents’ sacrifice, but he was an actual baby, and a powerful curse slamming against him was certainly enough to knock him out, even if he did have a bit of a magical force field. He passed out. He did not die.

The man who called himself Lord Voldemort – perhaps not much of a man after all – did not die that day, either, in any way, shape or form. There was no rebound to the spell. From his side of the wand, it appeared as if it had hit the boy and done what it was due.

He peered into the crib that held the unconscious baby and, being a Dark Lord and therefore not knowing the first thing about babies, assumed his work there was done. Satisfied, he turned on his heel and stormed down the stairs, ready to continue his pursuit of power, now unstoppable. That’s what he thought.

But the boy had not died, as we’ve established. What happened to him was this: a devastated young man in a flying motorcycle found him and, you know, like a regular person, thought to shake him around a bit before assuming he was dead. And the baby knew him, so he sighed with relief upon waking, lay against the man’s chest and fell back asleep clutching his battered jacket in his tiny fists.

When Hagrid came for the boy, Sirius insisted on accompanying him, and together they met Albus Dumbledore in Surrey. Yes, unfortunately that still happened.

We know how this story could have gone. But it is not how it went.

What happened was this: young Sirius Black now had an alibi. Even though the baby was still left in a terrible home with his terrible aunt and uncle, his godfather, a free man, visited him in the form of a dog – against Dumbledore’s orders, but, in young Sirius’ words, he did not give a shit – and taught him about magic all through his childhood. Harry Potter was a happy boy. He knew his stay in Privet Drive was momentary, he knew as soon as that man “Dumbledore” allowed it, his godfather would take him.

A few things changed, of course. This is not the story we knew. Let us try to break it to you… gently.

1. Harry James Potter received the “you’re a wizard” talk at 4 years old, as soon as Sirius thought he’d be old enough to understand it.

2. Sirius Black told him all about his parents as well. Showed him pictures and books and sometimes cried while he cradled Harry to sleep.

3. Sirius Black, unbeknownst to Harry, once slipped into the Dursley’s bedroom at night, let them think he was a demon, and threatened to unleash hell’s wrath upon them if they weren’t nice to their nephew. It worked.

4. Lord Voldemort didn’t die that Halloween night.

5. Lord Voldemort continued his campaign for power and immortality.

6. Lord Voldemort gained terrain over the Ministry, terrorized and devastated magical villages, established governors in each of them – Death Eaters, all of them.

7. Lord Voldemort directed a series of attacks against ministry facilities.

8. On Christmas Eve, 1986, the Ministry fell. Millicent Bagnold was killed in her office, and Pius Thicknesse was appointed Minister in her place.

9. Lord Voldemort gained full control of magical Britain.

10. Albus Dumbledore visited when Harry turned 7 and told him the story of Tom Riddle, the man, and Voldemort, the monster. Harry was 7, and Dumbledore let him know he was a soldier. He let him know he was the most powerful wizard of all time, probably. He let him know he was their only hope. Harry was 7.

Everything was different.

Harry was whisked away from Privet Drive and taken to Grimmauld Place. He was 7, and his transformation into a warrior, a bringer of hope, began.

Harry Potter is, at 20 years old, a first priority criminal, wanted by a corrupt government for treason and criminal disloyalty.

The tips of his fingers hold more power than many wizarding folk see in their entire lives, charged with years of training, charged with light and dark magic, balanced inside of him like night and day. And what he does is this: he walks. There’s a member of the Resistance next to him, always, a different one each day as he walks through the country, feet calloused, refusing to apparate anywhere before he sees it all. He walks, passes villages in his search for horcruxes, and bestows small miracles upon those who need him.

He comes and goes, more legend than man. In places where governors reign wielding terror as their weapon, the people await him. His name is whispered in taverns, held close like a secret, like something precious, and when he appears, white hooded cloak shadowing his face, it’s as if rain poured after centuries of drought. He smells of dirt before a storm, of fresh grass, and every house welcomes him in secret in the middle of the night.

His hands brush over burning foreheads, over broken arms, through strands of hair, and his touch is curative. His words slide smooth like a balm over wounded souls, his message — we will win this, I will win this, worry not, fear not, for I will end this — the love everyone feels for him, deep in their hearts. He’s a stranger, but he’s not. In places where fear has become a living, breathing thing, villages where everyone cowers before their leaders, people bow down for their warrior, kiss his calloused hands, his scarred forehead, and what little they have they give him so he can continue his trip.

At night, after he has left, the air smells different, smells like him, like rain and lightning, and his message of love is whispered into the night with the certainty that he will free them, he will free them.

Harry Potter, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. The boy who lived, the man destined to become a savior.

At night, people come together in secret and say, “long live Harry Potter, savior of all.”

He’s just a boy, too.

He flies over Dorset, broom held tight between his legs as he makes his way to the Resistance’s refuge in East Devon. The hands that cured a man of blindness earlier, now push through a wooden door and find their way around the back of his godfather, who was up waiting for him. Desperate times, but that man always has a smile for Harry.

“News of civilization?” He asks then, holding him tight, letting him know it’s okay to share the burden of his responsibilities if only for a minute.

“Yes. A man knows of a man who bought the cup. We need to move to Wiltshire.”

That’s how he lives. Just a boy who happens to be a savior, who lives nowhere and everywhere, who knows his duty, who has trained his whole life to achieve it.

And Sirius goes with him. “We’ll hit the road tomorrow.”

When Harry Potter knocks on his door, Draco almost sicks up on the spot.

Piercing green eyes stare at him, ready for a fight. But Draco is smart. He knows Harry Potter has come looking for something. Draco reads the paper, talks to his father daily about the information they have on Potter at the Ministry. He wouldn’t come, unless he was looking for something.

Draco should kill him, should end this, win the Dark Lord’s favor.

But he dreamt of a forest, and of knowing this man who carries the wild in his eyes.

He lets him in.

Malfoy Manor is full of secrets. Harry coaxes them out of hiding, cradles them near his chest and learns about darkness by stumbling into it in every corner.

The cup calls for him from the heart of the house, and he finds it on the second day of his stay, unearths it from a coffin in the depths of the dungeons. He destroys it on the spot, unspools the layers of iron with the magic contained beneath his fingernails, and destroys it.

When he turns, Draco Malfoy is in the corner. The child of a Death Eater.

But Harry has been in many places, seen enough repentance to recognize it in downcast grey eyes. He lowers his cloak and walks to the child of a Death Eater, holds his head between his hands.

“You can tell me.”

“There’s more where that cup came from,” Draco mutters, as if Harry had forced it out of him. He could have, but he didn’t.

“Will you show me?” And he can tell this man whose beautiful face he holds between his fingertips knows little of gentleness, knows it because he sees him flinch at Harry’s uncomplicated love and soft words.

“I should turn you in.”

“Will you show me?”

Draco shows him.

He learns more from Harry Potter the first two weeks they spend together than he did in 7 years at Hogwarts.

In the mornings, he steps out the door to find Harry kneeling by the flower beds, and when he turns to Draco his smile is wide and gentle, “Look at this,” he says, and with a touch to their petals, he makes the buds shake off their stupor and bloom, nurses them back to health. “Every living thing is ready to thrive, if you ask nicely.”

In the evenings, when they share a meal by the fire, he can’t stop himself from thinking about his father. About the fact that he’s betraying him. And Harry knows, because he always knows. In the short time they’ve spent together, he’s always seemed to know.

“Once you’ve passed your own limit, punishing yourself for love, you will start hating yourself, Draco,” he tells him as if he could read his mind, and then reaches for his hands and plays with his fingers, traces an outline of vines and flowers along Draco’s arms with magic, with locks of pure, blue light. “And if you think you know what’s right, that’s what you should do.”

And it’s nothing Draco doesn’t know. He knows what’s right, knows the magic of Harry’s hands, knows his heaving chest after an evening looking through the libraries for clues of where he needs to go next, he knows his profile, has been staring at it for days, he knows what he feels after Harry kisses his hands and tells him he can join them if he wants, they have room for him, he has room for him.

He knows what’s right. Harry’s message of love, of life is what’s right. And he would walk through fire if Harry asked, but right now, he’s simply asking him to thrive, if he’s ready.

He’s ready.

“The locket is in Inverness,” Harry says. He can see Draco flinch, and he knows the reason. “We have a fortress there. Will you come with me?”

He knows the reason.

This is what it’s like, walking with him: there’s magic where Draco never thought to look before. In the eyes of a child, who feels hope for the first time, in the lips of a mother that kisses Harry’s hands and Draco’s forehead. There’s magic in Harry’s feet as they touch the ground and make flowers bloom around him, as he brings life to everything around him, offers tenderness and words of love in places where authoritarian brutality is the norm.

It’s this: walking into prisons at night and melting out the iron keeping innocents locked in. It’s colors seeping into grey, it’s Harry reaching into a tree and it producing a perfect, ripe apple to gift to him, it’s Harry pressing it to Draco’s lips with a smile and saying, “here, you’ve earned it.” It’s Draco biting into it and being certain of the fact that he loves this man, tasting it in the sweet, sweet juice after breaking the skin of the fruit.

He knows, now, that Harry is the legend he has always heard about. He’s infinite, raw power poured into the purest vessel it could find, he’s gentleness to his core, he’s magnetic and good. He makes it impossible not to love him.

And he knows, now, that Harry is also the boy everyone forgot used to hide underneath that cloak. That for all the life he brings everywhere he walks, there’s a solemnity he carries in his chest, the burden of hope heavy between his shoulder blades, crushing him even if he does not know.

Sirius comes and goes, joins them on their trip and disappears on recon missions, over and over. Once, when they’re alone, Draco tells him about it, says “he’s just a boy” and Sirius sighs because he knows what it’s like to love him, to love this boy who is both young and ancient, like Draco does, and can’t even assure him, because there’s many ways this could end, and only one of them, the least likely of them, lets them keep him.

So he gives Draco a stone.

It takes them a year. Harry makes his way through England and Scotland, brings hope and freedom to the people as he searches for the items he needs to destroy the Dark Lord.

Draco guides him into Hogwarts, hand in hand, the moment they know where to find the last one. As Harry destroys it, he sees Draco cry.

He hasn’t told him what Harry has always known, that the way this ends for him is in sacrifice, but he thinks Draco must suspect. So he holds him in his arms and smooths his hands through his hair and over his eyelids. “It’s almost over, my beloved. Now let him come to me.”

He makes himself sound more confident than he feels. For the first time, as he holds Draco close, he doubts his own faith, for entirely selfish reasons.

But he remembers his lessons, and he remembers Dumbledore, and the Order, and reminds himself that this is what he was born for.

“Let him come to me.”

Draco knows what Harry is going to do, and sees him try to hide it. He sees him fight, sees him help every single witch and wizard to cross paths with him, the way he always does.

And when they part ways in the midst of the battle later that night, when Draco sees his mother, he feels something shatter inside of him and knows it’s happening. So he runs.

“The boy who lived, come to die.”

“You think this ends with me, Tom, but it doesn’t. The people’s pain is more powerful than their fear, and they won’t be silent. Do not think they’ll be silent. From the other side, I will see them bring you down.”

And then a curse, finally doing what it was due all those years before.

He stands in the forest, a stone held tight between his fingers. He can hear his parents’ cries for him in the distance, running towards him, echoes of bombardas that should have stopped hours before. He stares at the ghostly figure of Harry Potter.

“Why?”

“This was the only way he would die. I know you don’t understand, Draco, but this was the only way.”

“But he’s not dead, he went back to the castle, he’s making everyone pick sides. Harry, it’s over, it’s over.”

Harry stands in Kings Cross.

He’s given a choice, and he thinks of the burden, thinks of what his life might look like now, what will be expected of him next.

He thinks of the boy with the grey eyes.

He makes his choice.

In the morning light, a hero is reborn. Draco tosses him a wand and runs to fight next to him. Where he always belonged.

Afterwards, when the withering body of a man who was a monster hits the ground, they walk into the Hall, hand in hand, covered in dust from head to toe. Harry touches every bloodstained forehead, every dead body, presses his forehead to them and whispers words in the ancient language of the magic that runs through his veins, through underground streams and every living, breathing thing.

Everywhere in the Hall, eyes begin to open, and look into a new world.

“The change is only starting,” Draco tells him, as they stand with their foreheads pressed together outside the castle.

“It has started, my beloved.”

He doesn’t say he loves him, but Draco has known from the beginning, hears the words in the spaces between, slowly, dripping from every pore of Harry’s skin.

“We should go away for a while, just… while the dust settles.” Harry doesn’t protest, but Draco sees it in his eyes, and so, he interrupts his thoughts with a soft press of cracked lips, rough to touch, tender to heart. When he pulls away, Harry’s smile is nearly blinding. “You deserve it, for once. Besides, I know of a place in Wiltshire where the flowers sing your name.”

“And you?”

“And I sing it, too. I sing it, my love.”

#drarry #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mine #prompt #ilyprompts #mywriting

303 notes · View notes

fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years

Text

“New Moon” - Jasper Hale Miniseries Part 2

I woke up in the morning to an empty side of the bed next to me.

“No, no, no!” I exclaim, running my hands sporadically throughout the spot where Jasper laid next to me last night.

This couldn’t be real, but it was real.

I grabbed my phone off the desk and called Jasper.

“Sorry, the number you have called is out of service.”

I called the rest of the family, all the same. I wanted to scream, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My head was spinning, I was having a panic attack. I felt like I was dying.

Before I knew it, I hit the floor.

I woke up hours later, waking up to my living nightmare. It felt like my heart was ripped clean out of my chest, with no promise of return.

How could life rob me of the people I loved most in my life? Take away my families that gave me love, twice?

When the car accident happened on my way home from high school graduation, it killed my entire family. I was the only survivor. I moved to Washington to start a new life, I was too depressed to live in my home anymore, I couldn’t bare to live in that house. I moved to Olympia and attended Evergreen State College. Portland became too much for me, I had to go.

After I met Jasper and his family, things grew easier for me. The hole in my heart slowly filled. I felt loved again, people cared for me like a family. They loved and respected me; I was not lonely anymore. Holidays weren’t spent crying alone anymore, they were spent surrounded by love. I miss my family dearly but was grateful for a second chance for a family. But now, it was once again ripped from my hands at the hand of someone else.

I stumbled over to my desk, looking at the pictures of my handsome boyfriend and myself. I noticed that he took one; I hope he looks at it as much as I look at them.

I thought back to how I met Jasper. I was shopping in Port Angeles, as I like to drive and take road trips at any given chance. I ran into three beautiful women on that rainy day. The tiniest of the three, who I then learned was Alice, looked at me, stared blankly, and dropped what was in her hands at that time. The other two women turned to look at me, before going back to her. She whispered something to them. They all looked at me quizzically before approaching me. I hung out with them for quite some time, befriending them. I know now that she had a vision, she knew I was Jasper’s mate. Rosalie and I clicked very well. We exchanged numbers and agreed to hang out at some point. I spent the rest of the day with them. At one point their adoptive brother, Jasper, met up with us as he needed to shop too.

When Jasper and I made eye contact, all of the air left my lungs. I almost collapsed to the floor, my knees buckled and I gripped onto Rosalie’s arm for support. Alice was smiling uncontrollably as the same thing seemed to happen to Jasper.

“Hello, my name is Jasper Hale.” He says, reaching out his hand for me to take.

“I’m (Y/N Y/L/N).” I said, short of breath, meeting my hand to his.

He grabbed my hand and kissed it, causing me to blush uncontrollably.

The sweet memory caused me to smile, before heading back into reality.

The situation daunted on me, I was alone. I had nobody with me, wouldn’t have anyone with me for quite some time. My best friends, my family, my love-- they’re all gone without a trace.

So I did what I could, I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling for God knows how long. I had class in an hour and had to go, so I wouldn’t lose sight of my goal. Only now there was a new motive: to see Jasper sooner.

I went to my class, but none of it felt real. It was all a blur. When I returned to my dorm room, I stared out my window.

And that’s how I spent all of my time now, watching the world around me change as I stayed the same. I was too depressed to do anything extra. I went to class, tried to listen, and did the work I had to do. People spoke to me, but it fell upon deaf ears.

I left Jasper and Rosalie voicemails on a daily basis. I wrote letters for Jasper daily, planning to give him them all at once when, even though it felt more like an if, I ever get to see him again.

Being indefinitely separated from my mate left me feeling as if I was living in hell. My nightmares came back, and they came back worse.

I would wake up screaming, having the RA banging on my door to see if I was okay, as people called it in thinking someone was dying. Though I wasn’t physically dying, I felt like I was. I was emotionally and mentally drained as the weeks went on. Weeks turned into months. By the time October rolled around, I still hadn’t talked to anyone. I was so isolated that I even forgot that other people attended this school.

Until one day, a kid in my busines statistics class spoke to me.

“Hey, do you know what we’re doing? I don’t really understand this.” He says to me, trying to smile in a friendly way.

“Uh, yeah.” I say shyly.

I explained the problem to him and turned my attention back towards the lecture.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He said nicely.

“You know my name?” I said surprisingly. I was so down and lost in my own head, I never learned his name.

“Well, it is on your paper.” He said chuckling.

“Ah yes. That’s true. And your name?” I ask, trying to force myself to talk. After all, this is the most social interaction I’ve had since Jasper left a month ago.

“Mark. It’s nice to finally hear something out of you.” He teased.

I smiled back and chuckled out a “Yeah, that’s fair.”

The class came to an end and with that, I left to go sulk in my room.

Every class, Mark tried to talk to me more and more. He was very nice, I just didn’t feel a need to make any friends anymore.

“Hey listen (Y/N), I know you didn’t do anything for Halloween. Thanksgiving break is coming up in a couple of weeks. I think you need to have some fun. My friends and I are hanging out this weekend at my place. I think you should come by and try the whole, social, thing.” Mark kindly offers.

I sat and thought about it. What was there to lose? I didn’t necessarily want to go, but maybe it would be a nice distraction that wasn’t staring out my window all weekend.

“Ok Mark. I’ll stop by for a little while.” I said calmly.

“Oh wow, actually? That was easier than I thought.” He laughs.

He hands me his phone with a new contact page up. I add myself and hand the phone back.

The class ends and I head back to my dorm.

After sitting for about an hour looking out my window, my phone buzzes. It was Mark.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow at 6:30. Please try to have fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll try my best.” I respond.

I started writing Jasper’s letter before I stare at the backpack I’ve yet to open.

I can’t explain why I couldn’t. I was just so nervous. But it was time. It’s been almost two months since the Cullens left.

I unzip the massive backpack and see an absurd amount of cash, some papers, and some little packages. I open the papers first. One is the address of the new apartment and the other two are sealed with my name on it.

I open the first one and see a receipt? I look closer and see that he had paid off the duration of my tuition here. I almost cried at the thought of it, and I would’ve if I had any tears left.

I open the second one and see his handwriting. I stopped breathing for a second.

“Dear (Y/N),

I’m so sorry for what is happening Darlin’. I hope this ends sooner than later because not being with you is the worst pain that I could ever fathom. I hope you treat yourself well, please take care of yourself. I can’t wait to see you again, my love. Soon enough, we’ll have forever together. Do well in school, it’s important. I left you what I think you’ll need in this bag, please don’t miss anything in it. I will see you soon enough, doll.

Love always,

Jasper Whitlock Hale”

My tears dropped upon the paper. I opened the rest of the bag.

I saw a little rectangle box. I opened it and gasped. It was a necklace with a “J” on it. I held it close to my chest before putting it on.

It almost felt like he was real again. It felt like I wasn’t just imagining everything that happened to me.

I grabbed a picture of he and I before climbing into bed and holding it to my chest. I laid there until I fell asleep holding it.

When I woke up, it was 10 am. I did some homework and decided to finally go see the apartment that Jasper picked for me.

I ate some breakfast and got in my car. About an hour or so later, I pulled into the parking lot of a cute complex. I go up to mine and look around. It felt so empty despite being furnished. I walk into the kitchen and see a note on the counter. It was from Jasper.

“Hey Doll, it looks like you found the apartment. I hope you like what we’ve done with it for you.”

I almost instinctively crumpled the note up in my hands as I held it to my chest, but stopped myself. I put it back on the counter before finding my bedroom. It was customized just for me, that’s for sure. My eyes welled up with tears and I couldn’t control myself when I saw the framed picture of Jasper and I on the wall. I looked out the window and admired the view of the tree line. I missed my boyfriend more than anything. This was going to be hard. At about 4 or so, I decided to head back to school after dropping some of my stuff in the apartment.

I get back and get ready to go to Mark’s hangout. This would not only be my first social setting in some time, but my first big group of people in months. I was so afraid I could get sick.

I drive to the address that Mark gave me and let him know I was there. I looked around and noticed that this was definitely a frat house. Well, let’s hope for the best.

He came outside to come get me. I exited the car and followed him inside to see about 25 people in the living room and kitchen area. This was going to be a nightmare.

“Hey (Y/N), thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink?” Mark offers.

“No thank you, I have water with me.”

“What? You don’t want a shot or anything?” He asked me confused.

“Mark I’m driving. I also don’t drink, but thank you.” I tell him.

As I look around I become increasingly aware of the fact that I’m the only female here.

“Did I crash a boy’s night or something?” I ask him.

“No I just wanted everyone to meet you.” He says.

“Oh?” I said puzzled.

“Is this her? Is this (Y/N)?” A large man comes up and asks Mark,

“Yes it is.” Mark answered. “(Y/N), this is Joe.”

“Hi Joe. Nice to meet you.” I said shyly.

“Hello. You’re right Mark, she is really pretty. You should ask her out.”

Ah there it is, the reason I was invited.

“Please go away, Joe.” Mark said as he pushed Joe out of the conversation.

“Well…” Mark trails off, looking at me.

“Well what?” I ask back.

“Would you wanna go out some time?” He asked nervously.

“Mark, I’m flattered. Thank you but I’m actually with someone. It’s pretty serious. I appreciate the gesture, though.” I say nicely.

“So why are you alone all the time?” He asks me, with kind of annoyed tone.

“Because he’s not here right now?” I said questioning his tone.

“Well, let’s just get you to have some fun tonight.” He said, pulling me further into the house by my hand.

As I walk through, all I see is drunk men. I haven’t been this uncomfortable in so long.

I sit on the couch alone and look around. I check my phone, nothing.

“What’s a pretty girl like you sitting all alone for?” I hear from above me.

My stomach turned as I look up and see a guy about the size of Emmett.

Emmett. I miss my chaos twin. I miss them all so much.

I lost my track of thought when I felt the couch dip next to me and someone throwing their arm over my shoulder.

Once again, the feeling of nausea was returning. The pit in my stomach was turning.

“So, what’s your name? Jasmine? Jade? Am I close?” He says, reaching out to twiddle his fingers around my “J” necklace.

I quickly grab my necklace from his grasp.

“No, my name is (Y/N). The J is my boyfriend’s initial. His name is Jasper.” I snapped at him.

“Oh, so where is your boyfriend, then? Why would he leave you all alone? Doesn’t seem like he cares very much if you’re alone all the time, or if you came here alone.” He said in a whisper as he caressed my arm. I could smell the liquor on his breath.

I wish I knew where he was.

“He does, he’s busy doing something important.” I said harshly as I pull my arm away quickly.

My phone begins to go off in my pocket, I get up to look at the screen. It’s an unknown number. Hell I’d answer anyone, even a spam call, to get out of this situation right now.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, happy just to have a break in whatever that situation was turning into.

“(Y/N), leave. Now.” It was Alice.

“Alice?” I basically scream into the phone.

“(Y/N), please leave. Never speak to them again. Get out, go home.” She says as I hear the call end.

I ran out of the house, started my car, and left. My worries weren’t for nothing. They were going to hurt me.

But as I drove home, none of that really stayed on my mind.

Alice called me; I couldn’t even trace a number. I couldn’t call back. For once I felt like they were real again. I began to cry, I missed them so much. The most I heard from them in months was a fifteen second phone call. I didn’t get to talk, it was just so I wouldn’t let myself get hurt.

I pulled into my usual parking spot and headed up to my dorm room. Hoping that this semester ends soon enough. I only have two weeks before Winter break. This couldn’t come sooner.

I crawled into my bed, staring at the J on my necklace until I fell asleep.

Jasper’s POV

Hearing the phone call was too much for me.

Hearing about Alice’s vision was too much for me.

This was all too much for me. I needed to see (Y/N).

I needed to go there and kill every single one of them. If it wasn’t for Emmett and Carlisle holding me back and calming me down, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.

I was sick of just hoping my fragile (Y/N) would be okay. It wasn’t enough for me that Alice was watching with her visions.

I have an anger so deep within me that I could destroy anything in my path. So that’s what I did with Emmett. We went outside and broke boulders about fifteen miles from where we were staying. It was how I was gonna keep myself calm.

“I’m really sorry Jasper.” Emmett says to me.

“Thank you, Emmett.” I look back at him.

“We all miss her too, I know it’s different. But it hurts us too. I wish she could’ve come. But we’ll see her soon.” He says to me.

“I want it more than anything. I would also like to show up to that party.” My voice trailed off. If vampires could cry, I’d have been crying from the start of this conversation.

“I know, but we can’t. We have to be happy nothing happened to her. So I really can’t let you go do that.” He pats the back of my left shoulder.

I nodded to him. Emmett was truly the best brother I could ask for. Rosalie picked an amazing mate, and I owe her one for that.

“Do you smell that?” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Bears?” I say, a little bit of the predator side in me taking over.

“Yeah, I think it’s time for dinner.” He says smirking.

And just like that we were off, racing to find a bear.

*********

Word Count: 2973

111 notes · View notes

donteattheappleshook · 4 years

Text

Some Cupid Kills With Arrows

***

A Captain Swan AU loosely based on Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M

Read on Ao3 because tumblr eats my italics

Summary:

Emma and Killian hate each other. They have since the night they met. Or at least since the morning after. So Emma is dreading having to deal with them being Maid of Honour and Best Man at her brother's wedding. But, as their friends grow more and more annoyed at their constant bickering and a masquerade Stag and Doe turns everything on it's head, the entire bridal party come to a startling realisation: Emma and Killian might just be perfect for each other. With a little scheming and some well-timed chaos, maybe they can stop yelling at each other long enough to realise it too.

An enormous, huge, giant thank you to @ultraluckycatnd for her fantastic beta work and for helping me with this fic right up to the last second despite all my procrastinating. You are lovely and the best <3

Part One

Her head. Oh, god, her head. Why did her head hurt so much? Emma groaned, a pathetic whimper coming out as she tried to roll over on the couch. Her stomach gave an uneasy roll of its own at the movement, protesting against the liquor that was still swirling around inside.

Right. Liquor. Drinking. Drinking last night. Drinking with David. David. She was going to have to kill David. David, who insisted she show up early to this weekend extravaganza disguised as a wedding. The one who claimed that since he’d lost his best man when Mary Margaret stole his little sister to be her maid of honour that he was entitled to a brother-sister pre-bachelor party. It’s only fair, he’d insisted, flashing her those big puppy dog eyes and Emma had caved. She always caved when it came to her brother - or his fiance for that matter. She was weak when it came to those two. And now she had to murder one of them. Murder her only brother two days before his wedding for forcing what must have been an entire bottle of expensive scotch down her throat while they played poker and smoked cigars (and later sang along to the entire Mama Mia soundtrack - not that she’d ever admit that). Pity. She really liked David.

“Emma, Emma, bo-bemma, Banana-fana fo-femma, Fee-fi-mo-memma. Emma!” The loud singing announced her brother practically bouncing into the room and throwing himself on the couch near her feet. Emma groaned again and threw a pillow over her ears to try and block out the off-key hollering from the asshole next to her. She was liking him less and less with every passing second.

David laughed and ripped the pillow out of her grasp. “Rise and shine sister-mine!” he chanted. She was actually going to murder him. She reached out, a pathetic attempt to strike him but her hand just fell limply at her side.

“They will never find your body,” she told him. He laughed again and Emma cursed David and his super liver. She’d been his sister since she was ten; since Ruth found her on the street, burning a book of fairy tales to keep warm, and had taken her home for the night. That night had turned into forever and now, after eighteen years of living with the man, she’d never once seen him suffer a hangover.

“How are you so chipper?” she asked. Her voice sounded like she’d gargled sandpaper. David smiled, hauling her up by the shoulders until she was sitting like an almost-human.

He threw his arms out. “It’s a beautiful day?” he offered. “I’m one morning closer to marrying the woman of my dreams? Everyone who I love and who loves me is on their way to celebrate the happiest moment of my life?” Emma frowned at him. How dare he be so happy so early. David laughed at her misery again but patted her shoulder sympathetically before rising up and walking across the hall to the kitchen. Then, as if out of nowhere, a giant cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and two extra-strength Tylenol capsules appeared on the table in front of her. She wondered if she’d fallen asleep for a minute there.

Emma reached for the coffee like it was a lifeline - which it really was if she was being honest. She drank deeply and felt the effects almost immediately. She downed the pills and water next. She couldn’t quite manage a smile since this was still technically his fault, but she offered David a thankful look for taking care of her. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t have to murder him. Just some light maiming.

“You might want to jump in the shower,” he told her as she shuffled into the kitchen, he himself already looking and smelling fresh as a daisy. “You look a little rough,” he said with a grimace. Emma scowled at him and threw a nearby banana at his head which he easily dodged. She caught a glimpse of her reflection though, in the metallic gleam of the toaster and, well, he wasn’t wrong. “Just thought you’d want to freshen up and wake up before everyone gets here,” he suggested.

That’s right. It was Thursday. Everyone was arriving today. Oh, God. Emma had not played this right. Getting hammered on the night before the festivities even began. Today everyone would be arriving and settling into their respective rooms in the estate (read: mansion) owned by Mary Margaret’s parents - seriously the place was enormous. Mary Margaret had told her once how many bedrooms it had but the number had been so ridiculous and so superfluous that Emma had struck it from her memory. Nobody with an only child needed a house with rooms in the double digits. And this wasn’t even their home. No, they considered this place their ‘summer cottage’ where they would entertain friends on the private lake. It was convenient for a wedding though, she had to say. The whole bridal party was staying there for the entire weekend.

Tonight was the Stag and Doe. Leave it to David and Mary Margaret to find a way to avoid having to be apart even for their bachelor and bachelorette parties. It wasn’t like they’d ever been apart since they were fourteen years old - why start now? It was themed. Of course it was themed. Mary Margaret loved themes and David loved Mary Margaret so he let her have whatever damn theme she wanted, and since her parents had put their foot down against their daughter getting married on Halloween, they were having a costume stag and doe . She groaned. There were so many people coming. She knew. She’d had to organize it.

Tomorrow was the spa day for Mary Margaret and her bridesmaids and she assumed the boys would be treating David to some sort of manly pre-wedding tradition. All the out of town family would be arriving for the rehearsal dinner on Saturday. And then finally, the wedding was on Sunday. This weekend was a marathon, she mused, not a sprint.

Dozens of decorators, caterers, florists, and lots of other jobs Emma had never heard of were already running around the grounds - yes, the place had grounds - setting things up for what would certainly be the most lavish and extravagant (knowing Mary Margaret’s parents) yet classy and intimate (knowing Mary Margaret) wedding the world had ever seen. And all of them were under the direct orders of Regina Mills, David and Mary Margaret’s wedding planner and probably the most terrifying woman Emma had ever met.

Emma needed to boot and rally. She was the maid of honour and the groom’s sister. This weekend was not about her. Her job was to make sure everything ran smoothly. That the two most important people in her life had the most amazing few days of their lives and nothing and no-one was going to stand in her way.

Except maybe her speech, Emma thought as she turned on the shower and stepped under it. The hot water felt good and helped wake her up a little. The speech. The speech that she’d had nearly a year to write and still only had a blank page to show for it. How was she supposed to write a speech about love when she didn’t believe in it herself?

Well, that wasn’t completely true. She believed that some love was possible. But only for certain people. People like David and Mary Margaret who had found ‘The One’ when they were in the eighth grade and had never looked back. But they were the exception, not the rule.

Love had only ever left Emma hurt and alone. Love had only ever left her behind. First her birth parents who abandoned her on the side of the road as an infant. Then the string of foster parents that had cast her aside when they decided she wasn’t what they wanted. Then Ruth who had died far too young and left her and David behind. Then Neal, her high school boyfriend who had been her first everything before he disappeared to another city without so much as a ‘see ya’ text. And now David and Mary Margaret were getting married and starting a family of their own - one she wouldn’t be as much of a part of, no matter how much her brother insisted things wouldn’t change.

No, love wasn’t in the cards for Emma. She told people she didn’t have time for it but really she just didn’t have the heart for it. A heart could only take so many blows before it learned to rebuild itself out of something stronger. The taunting lilt of ‘always a bridesmaid, never a bride’ flitted through her head and she shook it away. She was fine like this. She was happy. She had a job she loved, a nice apartment, and good friends. She didn’t need love.

As she finished drying her hair and putting on enough makeup so that she didn’t look like an extra from The Walking Dead, Emma heard the commotion of people arriving. She could pick out Mary Margaret, Belle, Elsa and Ruby’s voices easily and she rushed out to greet her friends. They squealed when they saw her and her head only protested a little as they wrapped her up in a tangle of limbs that passed for a group hug.

Mary Margaret gave her a sympathetic look. “How was the pre-bachelor party?” she asked and Emma only grunted in response.

“You guys got here okay?” David asked, squeezing in to grab his bride-to-be and give her a kiss that would make you think she’d been away for months and not for a night.

“Save it for the honeymoon would you?” Ruby said in mock disgust and David looked at her with a wolfish smile.

“Don’t be jealous, Ruby! I’ve got one for you too!” David rushed to grab a protesting Ruby and planted a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Emma smiled as she watched her friends laugh and joke and tease each other. She loved having them all here together. Soon the boys would get here too and for one, perfect weekend everything would be just the way it should be. All her friends in one place, celebrating together for the first time since her college graduation.

Well, almost perfect. All of them being here also meant he would be here. He and his snark and his ego and his womanizing ways. She supposed it was a small price to pay for the reunion. And she couldn’t deny that she really enjoyed the look on his face when she put him in his place.

“Oh! It’s Killian,” David said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check a message. Speak of the devil , she thought. “He says they should be here in five,” David informed them, tucking his phone away.

“Great,” Emma said sarcastically and David shot her a begrudging look. She saw Ruby and Belle roll their eyes as Elsa and Mary Margaret started putting things away.

“Be nice,” David warned her.

“I’m always nice!” she insisted, offended. “ He’s the one who can’t seem to manage to be a decent human being for more than five minutes.”

“Come on, Emma,” Mary Margaret insisted from the kitchen. “You’re just as guilty. I don’t know why you egg him on.” She shook her head and Emma balked.

“I do not! I just think that the man needs reminding every now and then that he’s not God’s gift to women.” It was David who rolled his eyes this time. “Seriously, David, how you can stand to have him be your best man -” she started.

“Nope,” he cut her off. “You don’t get to complain about that. You chose Mary Margaret over me when we both asked you, so I had to find someone else. Besides, Killian is my best friend.” She balked. David rolled his eyes. “My best male friend,” he corrected. “So, again, be nice .” He gave her a stern look.

“But he’s just so… so…”

“So what?” Ruby asked, looking like she was really enjoying this.

Elsa shot her a look. “Don’t encourage her, Ruby.”

Ruby grinned. “Oh come on, it’s fun! It’s like a free show watching those two go at each other.”

“We do not go at each other!” Emma insisted again. “I just find it hard to say nothing like all of you do when he goes around acting so… cocky.”

“Cocky?” Ruby prodded and Belle elbowed her.

“You know what I mean. Every time he comes here, it’s all, oh, I’ve done this and don’t worry, I know how to do that ... Look at me, I’m so handsome and -”

“Handsome?” Mary Margaret interjected with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut it!” she cast her friend a warning glare. “I mean he thinks he’s the hottest thing since the Hemsworths. And it doesn’t help that he always drags along some bimbo whose sole purpose in life seems to be to fluff his ego and his…” she made a vague hand gesture, “you know.”

“Woah, Emma, tell us how you really feel, why don’t you?” Ruby laughed.

“He’s really not actually -” David started but she cut him off.

“Look, it’s nothing against the women okay - I’m sure on some level they’re really nice or whatever, or have some great heart or talent, but honestly, any woman who is willing to be Killian Jones’ date must have the IQ and backbone of a slug.”

“He’s not bringing a date,” David told her before she could go on.

Emma reeled back from the news. Killian Jones without a date? Impossible. The man couldn’t stand to be caught dead without something shiny on his arm.

“What? Has he finally slept with every woman in America and abroad?”

David rolled his eyes. “He’s bringing his brother. Something about him being on shore leave and wanting to spend time with him.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groaned, putting her head in her hands.

“See?” Belle piped in softly, misunderstanding her distress. “I’ve always said you judged him too quickly-”

“ There’s two of them !?” she demanded, hoping someone would tell her it was a joke. There was a collective groan and a small laugh from her friends. “Is one Jones in this world not enough?” she asked the room.

Before anyone had a chance to answer, a smooth, accented voice called from down the hall. “Hello? Is someone getting married here?”

“Robin!” Mary Margaret cheered, perking right up as though there was anywhere left for her to perk. “We’re in the kitchen!” she called.

“How the bloody hell do we find the kitchen?” came another accented voice, this one rougher around the edges. “This place is a maze.” Will! Emma rushed out with Mary Margaret to help their friends navigate the enormous house.

They found them looking confused in the front hall and Emma practically threw herself in Will’s arms as Mary Margaret greeted her guests.

Will had been in the same foster home as her when they were little. He was only a few years older, but he’d made a point to look out for her when most of the older kids had been inclined to pick on the smaller ones. She’d run away when he’d been transferred to another home for fighting and, after Ruth adopted her, she thought she’d never see him again. But with some help she’d managed to track him down in high school and was happy to find out he’d been placed with a distant relative the state had managed to locate in the area - a second cousin, Robin.

Robin was in college and on his own at the time, but took Will under his wing and had brought him up more like a little brother than a son. When David, Mary Margaret, and Emma had all ended up at the same college as Will and Robin, the friendship had been inevitable. Will introduced them to Ruby, and Mary Margaret became quick friends with Belle and Elsa when they all joined and felt like the odd ones out in the same sorority. However, Will had also unfortunately introduced them all to his classmate and drinking buddy, Killian Jones - something Emma would never forgive him for.

“Hey! You’re going to ruin my shirt!” he told her, pretending he wasn’t hugging her back.

“Your shirt’s already wrinkled,” she told him.

“It’s disheveled,” he corrected her. “There’s a difference.”

“Come now, Swan, I know it can be difficult to find men at your age, but there’s no need to throw yourself at poor Will like that.”

And there it was. Ninety seconds. He’d lasted a whole ninety seconds before saying something rude and asshole-ish and just… ugh. She hated him.

She opened her mouth to retort but Robin beat her to it. He turned on Killian, finger extended in warning. “You! No. None of that. We talked about this.”

Killian snapped his mouth shut and held his hands up in innocence but she could see him biting back a smile. Ugh, he even looked smug when he was being chastised. She looked him over, arming herself for the battle that was soon to come, scanning for anything she could throw back in his face when she needed it, something to bring him back down to size.

He was handsome - she had to give him that. He was probably one of the best looking men she’d ever met and she remembered thinking so the first time they were introduced. But when he opened his mouth... god. The sheer level of douche that was contained in one man. It made her shudder at the thought and angry at her past self for judging a book by its cover. Why her friends put up with him, she’d never understand.

The others had joined them in the hall by now and pleasantries were being exchanged. But as she hugged Robin, and Killian exchanged how-have-you-beens with David and Belle, she could feel his eyes on her. That was another thing that drove her crazy about him. He always seemed to be paying too much attention to her - probably sizing her up the way she did him.

But sometimes… sometimes she’d caught him watching her with an expression that wasn’t mirthful or arrogant - a small smile curling the corner of his mouth as if against his will, his brow softened from it’s usual expressiveness. It made her unsteady, made her feel unbalanced because she didn’t know what to make of it. What to make of the fact that she kind of liked it. That scared the shit out of her.

“Allow me to introduce my brother,” Killian was suddenly saying and she realised she may have been the one staring this time. “Everyone, this is Liam. Liam this is… everyone,” he smiled. Emma raised her brow at them both. Another Jones. This could not end well. “It’s Liam’s first time in the States,” he informed them as Liam shook hands with everyone.

“Well,” Liam interjected, “first time off a ship anyway.”

“Welcome,” David said, patting him on the shoulder.

“We’re so happy to have you here,” Mary Margaret cheered, hugging him.

“Nice to meet you,” Elsa smiled, offering her hand. Liam looked from Mary Margaret to her and for a second his eyes went a little wide - Elsa could have that effect - before he took her hand and held it a fraction too long. Elsa’s smile shifted as she looked at him and Liam finally released her hand.

“Thank you,” Liam smiled, looking down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. “I do hope I’m not intruding,” he offered. “Only it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to see my brother and…” Holy shit. Was he blushing? Emma thought. How the hell was this guy related to Killian?

“Of course you’re not,” she found herself saying before she could stop herself. He must be adopted. That was the only explanation. “This family has always had a soft spot for picking up strays along the way,” she insisted. “Emma,” she told him her name.

“Ah, Emma,” he said, casting a look at Killian. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Emma cast her own look at the other brother, skeptical of what he could have possibly said about her. He maintained his look of innocence. Liam smiled and took her hand, shaking it. “A pleasure,” he said and she smiled back almost instinctively. Maybe her judgement had been off when she’d first met Killian but she liked to think she was a pretty good judge of character. And Liam, well Liam had an air about him. It was the opposite of Killian’s. Where Killian exuded cockiness and pretense, Liam was modest and sincere. Well what do you know, she thought, there is a Jones out there I could like.

Quickly, once all the greetings had been taken care of, Emma informed everyone of the schedule for the weekend. “What will the guys be doing tomorrow?” she asked, looking pointedly at the best man.

“We’re going camping,” Killian informed her. It almost pissed her off how perfect a choice that was. David loved camping. “Lots of good old fashioned male bonding,” Killian joked. “I’ve packed enough cigars and whiskey to take down a horse. Let’s see if we can get Dave hungover for the first time in his life shall we?” Emma braced himself for whatever he was going to say next. “Besides, it will give us a chance to give him some tips for the wedding night.” He winked at the groom.

“Well, that’s our cue, I think,” David said, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Let’s go find everyone a room and have a drink and maybe some pizza before people get here.”

As the gang headed into the kitchen, Killian went about hanging up his jacket and setting his keys down before picking up his bag, calling after them. “Don’t worry Dave! I can tell you what to do so you don’t bleed your first time!” Emma lingered behind. She couldn’t help herself.

“You know you talk a lot for a guy nobody listens to.”

And there it was, that cocky, amused smile he seemed to save only for her. Emma ignored the little flip her stomach did - convincing herself that it was just leftover hangover symptoms.

“ Swan ,” he said almost affectionately, but there was a mocking there too. “We didn’t have a chance to say hello! You look…” He paused, taking in what she was sure were dark circles and pale skin. “Alive... mostly. How absolutely wonderful for someone, I’m sure.”

She didn’t even let it phase her. If he was already relying on physical insults she’d already won. “I noticed you didn’t bring a date.” He eyed her skeptically. “Did you forget to pay your tab at Escorts ‘R Us this month?”

He smiled. “I don’t see your date, Swan. Or is he already making a hasty escape out the bathroom window? Don’t take it too hard. Not everyone can have as many suitors as some.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ha,” she snorted. “Yeah I know all about your many suitors. Tell me something,” she started, inching closer and speaking low like it was a secret. He leaned in almost like a reflex. “Does your right hand know that you sometimes cheat on it with your left?”

He laughed outright at that. “Ah, love, it might shock you to discover that some of us are capable of finding willing partners for the world’s oldest dance. But I can understand how some might be led to believe one’s hand is one’s only option.”

She tilted her head. “Yeah, I’m gonna bet that partners like you are part of the reason so many dancers prefer their own hand. Might have something to do with why you only ever have a date for one night...”

It was his turn to inch forward. He stepped closer until there was barely any breathing room between them but Emma held her ground, tilting her chin up at him and meeting his gaze. “Oh, believe me. My prowess leaves nothing to be desired,” he promised. His voice had dropped, sounding gravelly and making his accent more pronounced. Emma steeled herself, ignoring the way the heat of him and the smell of his cologne warmed her skin. He always smelled so damn good, like leather and the sea. It was destabilizing and she nearly stumbled on her next words.

“And yet, you brought your brother as your date. Something tells me he doesn't put out.” He smiled at her and it was that smile she’d seen before - the unsettling one. The one that messed with this thing they had going - this mutual distaste. She needed to wipe it off his face. “Maybe I should find out,” she added with a suggestive brow and watched with pride and a small flicker of disappointment as the smile fell from his face.

“I’ll not have you defiling my brother, Swan!” He said it in jest, but he didn’t seem quite committed to his mock offence. She worried she may have pushed too far.

“Emma! Killian! Let’s go!” Belle shouted from the kitchen. “We’re ordering pizza and Ruby is getting hangry. Killian I swear she’ll put mushrooms on yours if you don’t come tell us what you want!”

They broke apart and it was only a second before Killian’s regular cock-sure bravado was back in place.

“Shall we?” he asked, indicating that she should lead the way down the hall.

Only four days. She told herself. She could handle four days.

-/-

“So tell me, Mary Margaret,” Killian asked later as they were all eating their pizza. Emma had nearly let slide his ‘ really Swan, anchovies?’ comment, but then suggested he try the one with garlic since it was unlikely he would find anyone desperate enough to kiss him tonight. He refused, insisting that experience had taught him to be optimistic. She’d muttered something about women with no standards before Robin had told them to knock it off and eat their bloody pizza. “What exactly does this party tonight entail? All Belle said was that I had to dress up? It’s lucky I still had my Halloween costume from last year.”

“You mean your halloween costume from every year ,” Emma snarked. Killian smirked.

“Why mess with perfection?” he asked. “Besides, Captain Hook is always a killer with the ladies.”

“No!” Mary Margaret covered her ears. “We’re not supposed to know what you’re dressing up as!”

“Way to ruin the surprise,” Emma said harshly and regretted it when she saw genuine surprise and regret cross his face. She ignored it, turning to the groomsmen who weren’t aware of the plans for the night. “We’re having a masquerade ball. Belle and Elsa spent weeks making everyone gorgeous masks to choose from and wear with their costumes. Nobody can know who anyone is, though. We’re doing this the right way. Nobody reveals their identities until midnight. That’s how long Mary Margaret and David have to find each other once we separate them at the beginning of the party.”

“I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me that these two haven’t told each other exactly what they’re dressing up as? I don’t buy it,” Robin shook his head.

“We took care of that,” Emma laughed. “Well, Belle did. Belle picked out their costumes and has kept them a secret. Thanks again,” she said, turning to the woman in question.

“My pleasure,” she said. “Actually, Elsa helped a lot. Her taste is impeccable.”

“Well, you couldn't have left Swan to do it. They’d both be wearing jeans and leather jackets.”

Emma shot him a look but Elsa was quicker. “How exactly is that different from your everyday look? Worried she might have picked out the wrong shade of black?” she challenged, eyeing up his black jeans, black boots, and black shirt. His black leather jacket still hung in the closet in the front hall. Liam hid his guffaw behind his hand and Elsa smirked proudly.

“Don’t worry,” Emma jumped in. “Killian doesn’t need a costume. He’s always dressed like a giant tool.” It wasn’t her best insult but hey, they couldn’t all be winners.

Killian smirked, stepping closer to her, invading her space a little, His voice was low and suggestive. “I’d be happy to show you my giant tool, Swan,” he offered and Emma pulled a face.

“ Oh my god, just bone already ,” she heard Ruby mutter under her breath.

“What?” they both snapped but Ruby pretended like she hadn’t heard them.

Liam laughed again and Elsa turned to him with wide, almost sorrowful eyes. “Oh, Liam,” she said and he turned to her. Emma wasn’t sure if she imagined the slight redness on his cheeks. It was very like his brother’s. “I’m so sorry. Killian didn’t tell us you were coming,” she glared at her friend. “Do you have a costume? I’m sure we could put something together if you -”

“Don’t trouble yourself, love,” he answered. “Killian forgot to mention a costume when he invited me.” He shot his brother a look. “But thankfully, my brother still had his costume from the time he played Westley in that Princess Bride stage play in college.”

Emma lit up just as Killian grimaced. “I’m sorry, the time he what ?” she asked, beaming. Oh, this was too good. She definitely needed to hear that story. Liam smirked, looking at his brother’s embarrassment and Emma once again marveled at how much she liked the older Jones brother.

“Hey! No more costume talk!” Ruby jumped in. “We can’t have David and Mary Margaret knowing who anyone is! It will spoil the game!”

“Sorry,” Liam said, looking a little abashed. “Mum’s the word,” He cast Emma a glance out of the corner of his eye, leaning in to stage-whisper. “He had the ponytail and everything,” he told her conspiratorially. It took everything she had not to burst out laughing, instead settling for tossing a shit-eating grin and a ‘ just wait ” look at Killian. Killian looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Liam, you might be becoming one of my favorite people.”

He grinned.

“We should start getting ready,” Belle chimed in. “People will be arriving soon.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see the costumes!” Mary Margaret squealed and then turned suddenly. “Emma!” Emma jumped. “Will you let me do your makeup? Please? You never let me and it’s my wedding!”

Emma sighed, giving in to her friend’s decades-long attempt at dolling her up. The last time she'd caved had been prom night. “Fine.”

“Oh thank you! You’re going to look gorgeous!” Mary Margaret squealed before quickly catching herself. “Not that you don’t always look gorgeous!”

Emma saw Killian open his mouth but didn’t give him the chance. “Can it, Ponytail.”

He pressed his mouth into a tight line but the corners turned up despite how obviously he was trying to fight it.

“Wait, first let me show you your costume,” Belle said to Mary Margaret. Emma didn’t know which one of them was more excited at the prospect.

“Okay! Emma, meet me in my room okay?” The bride-to-be waited for Emma to nod in agreement (defeat) before rushing off with Belle, Elsa and Ruby following quickly behind. Emma stood shaking her head as they ran away giggling. David corralled all the boys, rushing them off in the other direction to do… whatever guys did to get ready for a party. She watched them all disappearing down the hall, whooping and cheering. She thought she might have heard Will shout something about David finding his True Love and she shook her head.

“This is why I’m never going to fall in love,” she groaned to nobody in particular, shaking her head. “It makes people act like idiots.”

“At least we can agree on one thing,” she heard a voice answer. Her eyes snapped up to see Killian, still hovering in the doorway. He smiled slightly at her. “Not in the cards for me either, I think.” There was something vulnerable about the way he said it, like there was some secret that she was missing. Just for a second, she caught herself wondering what it was, feeling a slight tug in her chest at the defeated way he spoke. A connection? She smothered that feeling right away.

“Lucky for the women of the world,” Emma answered.

He only gave her another one of those small, half smiles before following the others down the hall.

“Emma! Get your ass up here!” Ruby shouted from one of the bedrooms. Emma left the kitchen, doing her best to ignore the way getting the last word with Killian hadn’t left her feeling as smug as it usually did.

-/-

“Ah, there’s my best man,” David said as Killian walked into the room. “Leaving me in my hour of need already?”

“Please, I was gone for less than a minute. Couldn’t you guys keep yourselves entertained for that long without me?” he asked mirthfully.

“What were you doing back there?” Will asked, sounding like he knew the answer already.

“Speaking with the lovely Emma, I’ll wager,” Robin answered with a smirk.

“What else is new?” David asked, rolling his eyes before Killian could defend himself.

“Why is this your hour of need, exactly?” Killian asked, choosing not to contradict them. He had, in fact, been talking to her, so he didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

“Because Robin has a better costume than me!”

It was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes. “His name is literally Robin. Who else could reasonably dress up as Robin Hood?”

“But that’s just it! She’ll never suspect it!” David insisted. The men all paused, exchanging looks. David held up the costume that had been laid out for him on the bed. “Belle dressed me as Prince Charming. I love her to death, but she’s just as much of a romantic as Mary Margaret. It’s too obvious, she’ll find me in a second.”

“He has a point, you know,” Robin agreed.

“Hey, Belle put a lot of work into picking your costumes,” Will reminded them. He cleared his throat when Robin shot him a wry look. “And the others. They all put in a lot of work…”

Killian grinned. “And wouldn’t it just be great to see their reactions when they realise we’ve switched it on them?” Even David smiled, excited at the harmless though somewhat juvenile prank. Will looked nervous though.

“Listen, I just don’t want to be the reason we ensue Elsa’s wrath,” he defended. Liam glanced at Will, and Killian noticed a slightly downtrodden look on his brother’s face. He frowned.

“It’s my Stag and Doe,” the groom insisted. “I say we do it.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. He slapped a hand on David’s shoulder. “Let’s see if true love really does conquer all, shall we?”

Robin considered this for a moment, arms crossed as he stroked his beard. “All right, but if we do this, we should really commit. Everybody confess what your costume is so we can pick the most un-David-like one.”

Will still didn’t look convinced. “What’s with him?” David asked.

Robin smirked. “He’s just worried that Belle will be mad at him. Or is it that you picked your costume with her in mind and don’t want to give it up?”

“Really, Will? You’re still hung up on her?” David joked. “Why don’t you just tell her already?” Liam perked up then, looking back at Will after having been staring at the floor for a moment.

“Oh, I was under the impression that Elsa was your girlfriend,” he said casually. Four pairs of suspicious eyes turned to him. “You just seemed so set on not upsetting her is all…” Killian didn’t buy it.

Will looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Bloody hell, Elsa? No. She just scares the hell out of me and she should scare you too,” he warned. “That is not a woman you want to cross.”

“Indeed,” Robin agreed, coming up behind his friend and wrapping an arm around him. “Will only has eyes for Belle.” Will elbowed him. “Elsa is, as of present, unattached.”

“Huh,” was all Liam said, suddenly far too uninterested in the conversation. It took Killian a moment, frowning at his brother, trying to read what he was hiding before it hit him.

“ Oh, no, ” he groaned and everyone’s eyes snapped up to him.

“What?” Liam demanded, playing innocent.

“No, no.”

“ What?”

“My own brother!” Killian cried. “Abandoned. Betrayed by my own kin!”

Liam rolled his eyes but his tone was way too defensive. “Shut up, Killian.”

Robin snorted but hid it quickly behind his hand as Killian shot him a death glare.

“Am I missing something?” David asked, looking between the brothers.

“What you’re missing, Dave, is that my brother, sworn bachelor, the last of the sworn bachelors, the last of the Jones’ to carry on the good name and reputation of man about town and sea, has fallen in love.” He cast his eyes to Liam again. “Traitor!”

“Oh, come on, Killian. Stop being dramatic. I’m not in love.”

“Not yet!” he cried. “But I’ve seen that look before - it’s in the eyes. I’ve seen it in my fallen comrades. First David, then Will. Robin was lost to me before I even met him, married at nineteen like some lovesick fool.”

“Careful now, that’s my wife you’re talking about,” Robin warned. Marian and Roland were joining the group the day of the wedding, thinking that subjecting a six year old to three days of wedding festivities seemed unreasonable.

“And now my own brother! Seduced! Stolen away by the Ice Queen. We stood together! Now I stand alone.”

“That’s a bit much don’t you think?” Graham said.

“You like Elsa?” David asked Liam and Killian rounded on him.

“ That’s what you got from what I just said?”

“I mostly tune you out if I’m honest,” David said casually before focusing on Liam again. “If you like Elsa you have the perfect costume. The Princess Bride is her favorite movie. She and Emma are obsessed with it - it’s a little annoying actually. If you wear that, you’ll definitely get her attention.”

“Oh, well…” was all Liam said, clearly flustered to Killian’s disgust. He did not like how pleased his brother looked at the idea.

“Killian,” David said then. “Let’s see your costume. Mary Margaret won’t come near me if she thinks I’m you. She’s seen your pirate costume a million times now.”

“I think the hair might give it away, Dave,” Killian laughed, gesturing to his own dark hair that contrasted so drastically with the groom’s fair head. “Besides,” he smirked. “You don’t have the cleavage for it.”

David rolled his eyes. “Oh, far be it from me to deny you the opportunity to wear a shirt unbuttoned to your waist.”

“What exactly is your obsession with this Captain Hook costume, Brother?” Liam piped up. “I’ve never seen it but it would seem it’s rather famous. Why the fixation on Peter Pan?”

“It’s because he’s the boy who never grew up,” Will offered, receiving a punch in the arm from the person in question. “At least that’s what Ruby dubbed him for all his womanizing.”

Killian rolled his eyes, familiar with the nickname. He never bothered to mention that he liked the character of Hook, not Pan. Not the devil child but the melancholic man who clung to the last bit of hope left in him.

“I’m hardly a boy,” Killian glared. “And I don’t womanize. Every woman I take out knows exactly my intentions. I’m not some child playing games.”

“Then you won’t mind giving up your costume,” Robin insisted.

“I told you it would be too obvious,” he reminded them again.

“So am I understanding correctly?” Will asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re just all throwing the girl’s rules out the window?” Will asked with a bit of annoyance in his tone. If Killian himself weren’t so annoyed at Will’s crush on Belle, he’d have found it funny.

“Yes,” David said simply. “Liam, you keep yours so that you have an ice breaker with Elsa and Killian, well, I guess you can keep yours for your vanity.” Killian rolled his eyes. “The rest of you,” he demanded. “Let me see what you have.”

David, Will and Robin spent far too long debating who should wear which of the three costumes, even going so far as to look through the clothes they had brought to see if they could make a new, fourth costume, before finally making a decision nearly an hour later. As they headed to their respective rooms to change, Killian noticed his brother lingering. He sighed again.

“So, Elsa then?”

“I mean, she seems nice,” Liam answered but Killian could see him trying to fight the little smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Nice? Elsa? I mean sure she can be friendly sometimes, but I’ve always found her to be a bit cold, distant.”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you, brother.”

“Nonsense,” he smiled. “All women like me.” But then looked at Liam again. “You really like her?”

“I don’t - she seems interesting. I’d like to get to know her better, yes.”

“Unbelievable. You’re in the country for ten minutes and you’ve fallen for the first blonde you’ve seen.” He shook his head, utterly, totally disappointed by his brother.

“I wouldn’t be the first Jones now would I?” Liam muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Unbelievable,” Killian sighed.

“You keep saying that,” Liam pointed out.

“Well it is! A few years ago we were all free, unattached. We could head to the bar, meet some nice girls, have some fun. But now, I swear David has to ask permission before he goes out with us. And Will won’t go anywhere unless we agree to invite Belle along so he can stare at her like a git and not say a word. When did all of the bachelors die off? When did all my friends drop off the face of the earth. I’ll tell you when. When they decided to fall in love!”

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little old for this, Killian?”

“How dare you?” Killian snapped. “I’m thirty-two. I’m hardly at the age of needing to settle down.”

“Then pray tell what age is appropriate to settle down?”

“I’ll let you know if I ever hit it,” Killian smirked. Liam rolled his eyes.

“So what, you’re going to keep man whoring around? Don’t you want to be with someone? Have something real? Fall in love?”

“Love is overrated. I plan to die a bachelor.”

“You mean alone,” Liam corrected him. “I don’t believe you for a second, brother,” he said, but he shook his head in a way that told Killian he didn’t plan on arguing any further. Let Liam disbelieve him. He didn’t need his brother’s approval. He’d tried love once and it had brought him nothing but wasted years and endless torment.

Killian had learned young that love only ended in pain and heartbreak. He’d seen it with his mother, who’d been unhappy her entire married life only to pass away young and leave behind a father who was so heartbroken of the loss of the woman he mistreated that he abandoned his two sons.

He’d sworn off love at six years old. He’d only faltered once since, despite his best efforts to resist it. And that time had only served to reinforce his belief that he was right. Love was a waste of time. He didn’t need it. And he didn’t want it. Let the Davids and the Robins and the Wills - and apparently the Liams - of the world have love. He would stick to one night. One night was clear. One night left no expectations, set no precedent. One night was safe.

“So then,” Liam started, snapping Killian from his admittedly rather gloomy train of thought. “What about Emma?” he trailed off.

Killian’s head snapped up as though he’d been struck. “What about Emma?” he asked wearily.

“She seems nice, is all. Funny, smart, rather beautiful too…”

Killian felt his heart jump into his throat. Emma? Liam and Emma? Was his brother really suggesting that he was interested in Emma romantically? Or even just physically? The idea of his brother and Emma together stirred a feeling inside of him that he didn’t like. The same feeling that had come over him when Emma had taunted him with the idea of her and Liam earlier. What was it - anger? Disgust? Jealousy ? No. He wasn’t jealous. Emma could sleep with whoever she wanted. So could his brother for that matter. So could he. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll admit that she’s rather pleasant to look at but believe me, the woman is a harpie. She’s got a wicked tongue on her. She’s cold and defensive and she has walls a mile high.”

“She seemed rather pleasant to me. Witty too.”

“Oh, aye, she’s got wit, that’s for sure.” He caught the corner of his mouth ticking up and forced it down. “She’s quick and rather amusing when she’s not yelling at me.”

“You don’t seem to mind her yelling at you.”

He laughed. “She’s quick to anger, that’s all,” Killian shrugged, trying to go for blase but knowing he was failing. “Makes her rather fun to argue with. She has a way of seeing people… she’s quite perspective really.” She was. She could and would call him on any and all of his bullshit. He was always surprised to realise how much he enjoyed that. But she had him pegged wrong. Always had. And he couldn’t forgive her that.

“So you don’t like her then?” Liam continued, frowning. “I suppose I can understand that. I heard you talking in the hall. She does seem like she can be rather…”

“Rather what?” Killian said quickly, shocked by how vehemently his body reacted to the idea of someone speaking poorly of his rival - someone besides him anyway.

Liam’s eyes went wide and then settled into a knowing expression Killian didn’t like. “Nothing,” he said, but the word held weight.

“She’s just… she’s had a hard life,” Killian found himself saying. Shut up, why are you defending her? he demanded of himself, but he couldn’t stop the words that came out. “She’s been through a lot - like we have. And she’s done some rather impressive things with her life despite it. She’s a detective you know?”

“Yes, I know. You’ve told me. You’ve told me a lot about her actually…”

“Right,” Killian caught himself. Clearing his throat. He didn’t like what his brother was implying. Killian didn’t want Emma. Of course he didn’t. They fought and they bantered and they teased but that was all their relationship was. It was all it ever had been - well, almost. There was that first night... But regardless, he didn’t want his brother to get tangled up with her either. For his brother’s sake only. Emma pushed everyone away. He wouldn’t want to risk his brother being hurt like... “Well, yes, she is cold and distant and incredibly frustrating and - I don’t know if you want to go there. Not worth the effort I think and -”

“ Killian.”

“What?” he snapped.

“I’m not interested in Emma,” he explained carefully and Killian was angry at the relief he felt. “But I think maybe…” Killian steeled his jaw, fists clenching and shoulders straightening as his brother eyed him with… pity? sympathy? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Something in his expression must have warned Liam off. “Nevermind,” he finished.

Killian let out a heavy breath, thankful that this conversation was over. “Shall we go get ready?” he asked. “I think people will be arriving soon. I’ve seen Mulan’s car pull up. And if she’s here, the party is bound to get underway quickly.”

“Aye,” Liam said, swinging his arm around Killian’s shoulders. “Let’s.”

-/-

“Emma!” she heard Elsa call for her from the room next door. She banged on the adjoining wall to let her friend know it was fine to come in. A second later Elsa was making her way into the room, awkwardly looking behind herself as she struggled with her costume.

“Could you give me a hand with these laces?” she asked, referring to the corset like back of her Swan Lake ballerina costume. It was pretty, graceful, and understated like her friend.

“Sure,” Emma said, gesturing for her to turn around so that she could help her with the intricate lacing. When she was done, Elsa brushed her hands down the front of her dress, making sure it looked right.

“Thanks.” She looked Emma up and down and frowned. “You’re not ready yet? The party’s already started. I’m running late because of these damn laces. What’s your excuse?” she asked, taking in Emma’s jeans and leather jacket.

“Oh, I’m ready,” she said, grabbing a hat and a pair of sunglasses and putting them on.

Elsa frowned. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

Emma clipped her badge onto her hip. “An undercover cop.”

Elsa stared at her for a long moment before crossing her arms in front of her chest and frowning. “Are you fucking kidding me, Emma?”

“What?” she asked defensively. It was either this or a sheet with holes cut in it,” she said. “You know, to be a ghost,” she clarified when Elsa didn’t react.

Elsa let her head fall into her hand, rubbing at her forehead in frustration. “Jesus Christ, Emma. It’s a costume party. You are a cop. You can’t just go as yourself. This is a pathetic excuse for a costume and you know it.”

“You were actually a ballerina!” Emma insisted, gesturing at the dress she knew her friend had worn in a real performance in college. Elsa glared at her. She was annoyed at her friend, but probably more at the fact that she knew she was right. She’d really hoped they’d have let her get away with it. She was never one for dressing up.

“That’s different,” Elsa explained slowly, like she was talking to an idiot. “I wouldn’t go around wearing this on the street. You haven’t even changed out of what you were wearing when we got here.”

“So you think I should go with the ghost?” she asked, smirking a little. Elsa shook her head in exasperation.

“Emma, this party is for Mary Margaret. You know what she wants it to be. She wants magic and beautiful dresses and men dressed as princes and heroes. This is her fairytale wedding and you cannot wear jeans to a masquerade ball.”

Emma sighed. “Okay, but it’s a little late now. I don’t have another costume and nothing I brought is fancy enough to qualify as a gown.”

Elsa thought for a second, looking her over as she tapped her fingers against her crossed arms. “Hang on a second,” she said finally. “I might have something.” And with that, she disappeared out of the room, trailing crinoline and feathers behind her.

Emma pulled the hat and sunglasses off, groaning as she pulled her hair out of it’s messy ponytail. She should have seen this coming. She should have known her friends wouldn’t stand for her cop out of a costume - they fought her every Halloween and this was her best friend’s wedding. She just… she didn’t have it in her. The whole fairy tales and True Love and princes and princesses - it just all felt so… fake, unrealistic. She didn’t want to get dolled up and attract the attention of some guy who would make her promises and then break them as soon as the lights came on and the masks came off. She remembered the last time she’d let some guy she met at a party convince her she meant something - she’d learned that lesson quickly. Never fall for a pretty face - especially one with an accent and a penchant for seducing blondes.

“Here,” Elsa announced, returning to the room and shaking Emma out of her thoughts. She was holding a dress on a hanger, the skirt of it draped over her arm. It was beautiful. Ice blue and floor length with intricate beading. The neckline was modest but she could see the plunging back. It was Elsa embodied: elegant, sophisticated, and just a little ethereal.

“This is gorgeous,” Emma said, reaching out to tough some of the delicate stitching. “Where did you get it?”

“I wore it to Mary Margaret’s black-tie New Years Eve party last year, remember?” Emma shook her head. “Oh right, you weren’t there - you had that case. Anyway, I forgot it here in the morning and haven’t been back to pick it up since. I feel like it would do nicely for tonight.”

“You’re going to dress me up as a princess aren’t you,” Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Elsa beamed.

“You bet your ass I am!” she laughed. “If your brother’s going as Prince Charming, it’s only fair you get a royal makeover too. Come on. If I know Mary Margaret’s mom, I’m sure we can dig up a tiara or something in one of these rooms. Shall we?” Emma bit her lip. She knew she wasn’t going to win this one. “Hey, you’re doing this for Mary Margaret,” Elsa reminded her and then gestured pointedly to her own costume. “We all are.”

Emma sighed. “Okay. But you better have a damn good mask. If David sees me in this, he’ll never let me live it down.” Nor would Killian, she thought, cringing at the teasing that would surely ensue from him seeing her in something other than jeans. Elsa laughed and dragged Emma along in search of a crown.

-/-

“Liam!” Killian called, poking his head into his brother’s room and looking around for his absentee sibling. “Are you nearly done putting your face on? The party’s in full swing and you’re missing it!”

“There’s a slight problem,” Liam’s voice carried across the room from the bathroom as he walked out and Killian had to put his fist to his mouth to stop from laughing at the sight of his brother. It didn’t work. “Shut up,” Liam warned as Killian burst out in a fit of laughter. Liam stood in front of him, looking not at all impressed in the tightest shirt and pants Killian had ever seen. The sleeves ended several inches above his wrists and the pants several inches above his ankles. Liam threw the mask he was holding at his brother.

“I’m sorry,” Killian apologized, trying to contain himself. “I don’t think it fits,” he pointed out the obvious.

“Clearly it doesn’t fit, little brother ,” Liam said with a glare. Killian returned it.

“Younger brother,” he corrected.

“No, I believe in this case little brother is correct,” he smirked, gesturing to himself again. He turned around to head back to the bathroom and Killian, who had been glaring, burst out laughing again.

“Oh, I do hope Elsa’s an ass woman,” he said. “You’ll certainly win her over with pants that tight.”

“Alright, enough. Give me your costume.”

“My costume,” Killian demanded, stepping back and placing a protective hand out in front of him. “Why?”

“Because this is your fault. You’re the one who gave me your old costume without accounting for the fact that I am the much taller and broader shouldered of the Jones brothers.”

“Or the one who needs to cut back on sweets,” Killian shot back. “Besides,” he challenged, “how will this costume fit you if you’re so big and strong you can’t fit into that one?”

“Give me the jacket and the jewellery,” Liam said. “I’ll find a pair of black pants and a buttoned shirt and it will have to do.” He eyed his brother who was still clinging protectively to his costume. “And the hook,” he demanded.

“What will I wear then, if you’re going to take the very shirt off my back?”

“This,” Liam answered, gesturing to himself. “Should work. You’ve barely filled out since college,” he smirked.

“I’ve never had any complaints.” Liam gave him a leveling look and Killian rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he ceded, shedding the beloved jacket from his shoulders and tossing it to his brother. Liam caught it in one hand and headed to the bathroom to change, pausing at his suitcase to grab a pair of pants and a shirt.

“You know you’re blowing your chances at winning over Elsa though, don’t you? No dashing childhood crush to seduce her with.”

Liam cracked the bathroom door open and poked his head out, tossing the costume at him. “I’m not trying to seduce anyone,” he frowned. “Besides,” he smirked. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t need a bloody costume to do so. Not all of us need glamour and trickery to convince a woman to speak to us.”

“Oi!” Killian shouted, offended. “I don’t need any tricks to get a woman to speak to me!”

“Is that why you pick a fight with Emma everytime you see her?” Liam’s voice was muffled through the door.

“I have no idea what you’re insinuating,” Killian snapped. He was getting very tired of his brother speaking cryptically about he and Emma’s relationship. As though they were anything but friendly rivals. So what if he looked forward to seeing her at these get-togethers? So what if he was disappointed when she was kept away by work. He simply looked forward to having someone to spar with, someone who kept up with him and could challenge him. He loved a challenge, and if Emma Swan was anything, she was a challenge.

“Of course not,” Liam patronized as he emerged in Killian’s jacket. He held out his hand and Killian passed him the pirate necklaces and the clip on earring that completed the look. “Better get dressed, party’s started,” Liam told him then looked him over carefully. “Isn’t ‘The Princess Bride’ Emma’s favorite movie as well?”

Killian looked down at the costume he held in his hands, ignoring the fact that it was, in fact, her favorite and that she might, just maybe, forget their rivalry for a second if they had some common ground. It would be interesting to speak to her without their prickly game standing between them for a moment. The last time they’d done that had been… well, a very long time ago indeed. “What of it?” he asked his brother and hoped Liam wouldn’t push the subject.

“Nothing,” Liam said and when Killian met his eye he saw the same look he’d seen earlier. It unsettled him. But then his brother smirked and the moment was broken. “Just too bad you don’t still have the ponytail.”

Killian scowled, whipping the hook off his arm and shoving it a little too forcefully against his brother’s chest, turning to storm out of the room to the sound of Liam’s laughter following along behind him. “It was one semester!” he shouted but Liam only laughed harder.

-/-

Emma poured herself another drink from the bar, readjusting her mask which unfortunately, though beautiful, had the annoying habit of sliding down her nose. One corner was still damp from when it had dipped into her drink. She didn’t know how people did this back in the day. Wearing masks was fun, the mystery of it all and the anonymity was almost thrilling, but it was highly inconvenient. She set the drink down to tighten the silk string that kept it on for the tenth time that night.

The party was in full swing. The house was packed, every room full of people squished together dancing, laughing, drinking, and shouting at each other to be heard over the music. Emma looked around proudly. She had to say, she’d done a pretty good job for someone who hated fairy tales. She loved parties, though, so she chalked it up to that. Well, that and Elsa and Belle’s beautiful masks and Ruby’s awesome taste in music… and David had helped with the decorations. It had definitely been a group effort.

Emma scanned the crowds, trying to spot any of her friends and realized that she couldn’t. She almost laughed. The masquerade thing really did work. She knew what Elsa and Liam - and likely Killian - were dressed as, but she hadn’t seen anyone else from the bridal party’s costumes and there were so many friends and family here to celebrate that she wasn’t even sure she knew all the guests, let alone that she’d be able to identify them with half their faces covered.

She made her way across the kitchen which was being used as a bar and into what could only be described as a great hall where people were dancing, hoping to spot Elsa among the throngs of people. She perked up when she caught sight of white feathers and excellent posture. Squeezing between Cinderella and Gaston who looked about two seconds away from making out - weird - she crossed the room toward her friend, only to stop dead when she caught sight of a silver hook and a generous display of chest hair.

Ugh. Killian. Elsa was talking to Killian. His face was half covered in a silky black mask but she’d seen that stupid pirate costume enough times to know it had to be him. She rolled her eyes as he leaned down to say something in Elsa’s ear and her friend threw her head back laughing, her hand coming up to rest on his bare chest as she leaned in closer.

Gross . Emma thought Elsa had better taste than that. She wondered what Killian could possibly be saying to make her friend blush and giggle like some infatuated school girl. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and the uneasiness in her stomach when Elsa ran her hand up from his chest to his shoulder under the guise of trying to hear better over the music. His hand went to the small of her back and the smile on Killian’s face felt like a punch to the gut. She’d seen that smile, relaxed, excited, soft. She’d only ever seen it so rarely before and only ever…

She turned away, done with watching the disturbing display in front of her. If Killian and Elsa wanted to flirt and whisper little secrets to each other and exchange meaningful little touches, she wasn’t going to stick around to see it. Really, she thought Elsa had better taste. She thought Elsa was a better friend than to… what? What exactly was Elsa guilty of? Cozying up to her hot friend? Getting close to Emma’s… rival didn’t feel like the right word.

She just wasn’t prepared for it, that was all. There had always been some sort of unspoken thing between the women of the group - Killian was no man’s land - or, rather, no woman's land. Despite his constant flirtatiousness and innuendos, nobody ever took it seriously, nobody ever really considered dating him or going to bed with him, at least not since that night. But there was never really a reason, no agreement made. Elsa could do what she liked. Emma didn’t care. Why would she care? Killian, while awful, was undeniably attractive and if Elsa wanted to - well, Emma didn’t care.

“I see my brother’s not wasting any time,” she heard behind her, the voice somewhat dulled by the thrumming of the music. Emma turned, smiling when she was met with bright blue eyes, just noticeable through a black leather mask, and a cheeky smirk. She looked over the costume he wore so well, a little flustered despite herself at seeing someone dressed as her childhood (and adulthood) crush.

“Liam,” she greeted, holding up her glass in a toast. “How are you enjoying the party?” The smile slipped from his face for a moment before he bit his lip against another.

“Well, I must say it’s just gotten infinitely better,” he answered.

“Ah, so I see Killian isn’t the only smooth talker in the Jones family,” she teased.

“Alas, it’s a family trait. Inherited from our father unfortunately,” he answered, his smile faltering for only a second. “What do you suppose he’s saying?” he asked, gesturing at his brother and Elsa.

Emma scoffed. “If I know him, he’s probably showering her with insincere compliments and using that inherited silver tongue to convince a perfectly intelligent woman that she wants to do something incredibly stupid.”

“And what’s that?”

“Sleep with Killian Jones.”

“I feel as though I should defend him.”

“No need,” Emma assured him. “Everyone knows who Killian is.”

He frowned. “And who is he?”

“Take your pick: playboy, womanizer, egomaniac. I swear David and the guys must just keep him around for entertainment. There is not a sincere bone in that man’s body. Well,” she laughed, turning from the scene in front of them back to the better-Jones. “Maybe one.”

“I see.” His jaw was tight and Emma worried she’d gone too far. She’d forgotten for a moment that this was his brother. She thought about how she’d feel if someone talked about David like this. But then again, David would never deserve it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, regardless. “I shouldn’t insult your family.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you have your reasons. I summarize then that you’re not a fan of him.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Surely he can be a bit of a scoundrel at times but I wonder… What exactly is the nature of your feud with my brother? Killian never told me anything apart from the fact that you seem to despise one another.”

Emma hesitated. She’d never told anyone this story before. Sure, her friends had asked in the past, wondering why she hated him so much, especially given their first meeting. But she’d always skirted the question, not wanting to explain herself, not wanting to admit how stupid she’d been, how blind and how reckless. It was humiliating really. But Liam was sweet, and seemed genuinely interested. And she’d just spent the last few minutes insulting his only brother (as far as she knew) and she felt she at least owed him an explanation for it.

“Did Killian ever tell you about the night we met?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t believe so,” he said, bringing a finger up to scratch a spot behind his ear in a way that was so reminiscent of his brother it threw her for a moment. Between their eyes and their mannerisms and their smiles, for all their differences, the Jones brothers certainly had a lot in common. There was no mistaking their kinship.

“We met at Will’s birthday party about five years ago. He and Killian had a class together so Will brought him along with our usual group. You might not believe it, I don’t think anyone would really, but I didn’t hate your brother the first time I met him.”

“Oh no?” he asked, waiting for her to continue.

“No, we - we actually hit it off really well. He was funny and easy to talk to and actually kind of…” Emma trailed off, finger running over the rim of her glass as she remembered his easy smiles and the way his shoulders shook when he laughed. She remembered the way he spoke, loudly and animatedly with the group but also softly and what she’d thought was sincerely when it was just the two of them. “Sweet,” she finished lamely. “He was sweet.”

She cleared her throat. “I liked him. I was stupid and young and he was charming and well, you know how he is, he’s your brother.” She couldn’t look at him now when she told him the story. It was too embarrassing. She felt as vulnerable now as she had that night and while she’d let herself then, it had been a hard lesson on why she should avoid letting herself feel that way again.

“I do,” he said.

“Anyway, we ended up spending most of the night together in a back booth in the bar. Everyone was dancing and drinking and we just sat there talking.” They’d talked for hours. They’d talked about nothing, silly things, movies, books, what they’d wanted to be when they grew up. But also about real things, things Emma had never talked about with anyone apart from David, not even her closest friends; about her childhood before Ruth, about Neal, about what she wanted out of life but was afraid of going for, afraid of failing. She hadn’t even meant to tell him most of it, but he’d listened in that rare way so few people do, the way they do when they actually care about what you have to say and aren’t just waiting for their chance to talk. She felt stupid now for all the things she’d told him.

“We didn’t even realise the others had left until the lights came on and we were being kicked out because the bar was closing,” she continued. “He, um,” she cleared her throat. “He asked me back to his place but I said no.” She rubbed at her neck, feeling awkward now sharing this with Killian’s brother as she recalled the details of the night and the next morning. She’d said ‘no’ because she liked him, ‘no’ because she didn’t want to go and ruin something good by turning it into a one night stand.

Suddenly, his hand was on her arm, fingers brushing over the bare skin there and her breath caught at how warm he felt against her. It was comforting, familiar though, and almost unsettling in that familiarity. She remembered another set of fingers running up her arm outside her apartment building years ago.

“You don’t have to tell me -” he started.

“No it’s okay,” she cut him off. “He was surprisingly okay with it,” she said. Well, not so surprising considering what he got up to later. Liam didn’t need to know about the kiss - or the other one for that matter. She bit her lip, remembering. “It was late so he offered to walk me back to my apartment. I lived in kind of a shady area back then,” she explained. “He did and we went our separate ways,” after a while , she thought, “and we made plans to meet up the next morning.”

“So, what happened?” he asked, his fingers still idly tracing patterns on her arm up to her shoulder.

“What happened,” Emma started, clearing her throat again as the anger set in. Anger was good. Anger helped with the humiliation, with the hurt. “What happened is I went to his place the next morning and some girl in a towel answered the door.” She saw his eyes widen. She couldn’t see his eyebrows but she knew they were likely shooting up to his hairline.

“What?” he asked, mouth gaping open.

“Yeah. Some blonde, obviously a blonde. He’s got a type, you know. She told me Killian was in the shower and it wasn’t hard to figure out that after I turned him down, he went out and found someone else to get his rocks off with. So yeah, that’s when I realised exactly what kind of guy he is.” He’d probably only walked her home as a favor to Will.

“I’m sorry, love, that must have been awful,” he said. Emma shrugged.

“It is what it is. Honestly I’m just annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner. I’ve met enough guys who are only after one thing and I don’t know why I convinced myself he wasn’t.” She gave him a small, insincere smile.“Must have been the rum,” she shrugged. There hadn’t been any rum though. Neither of them had had a thing to drink since they’d sat down in that back booth, hadn’t felt the need for it. It had been so easy.

“Perhaps,” he started, and Emma turned to look at him. She’d been fixated on her glass for the last few minutes. She couldn’t really make out his expression in the dim lights, his voice soft enough to be nearly drowned out by the music. “Perhaps you should ask my brother about that night,” he suggested. Emma’s eyes snapped to his in surprise and what almost felt like betrayal.

“Why would I do that?” she demanded, feeling defensive. She pulled back a step, wanting to put a little distance between them after this unexpected turn - what was it with her and baring her soul to the Jones brothers? Was she that much of a sucker for blue eyes and an accent? - but he followed her, moving with her and leaning in close to speak so he wouldn’t have to shout over the music.

“Because, Swan, there are two sides to every story and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s always better to give someone the benefit of the doubt.”

Emma blinked at him, slightly distracted by him being so close to her. The room was crowded and she felt the stickiness clinging to the back of her neck from the heat of so many people packed into one place. A lot of that heat seemed to be coming from him. His hand was still on her arm, having drifted down to her wrist, his thumb tracing over the back of her hand as he spoke, his mouth next to her ear and his breath warm against it. The smell of him was heady around her, like leather and sea air and - wait, had he just called her Swan?

She looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she tried to make out his face under his mask. Something about him… something was familiar, more familiar than brotherly resemblance. His jaw ticked, the muscle clenching in a way that was so… she'd seen it before, it - Oh. Oh, no way . She looked him up and down, taking in the lean frame, the dark, flippy hair that stuck out of his mask rather than the curls she expected, the sharpness of his jawline where Liam’s was softer, the shape of his mouth… Killian. Oh, he was a dead man.

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” he said.

She turned her head up to meet his eyes, set her chin like she always did when she was ready for a fight. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she started, ready to call him out on his little ruse and rip him a new one for tricking her.

“You’re right,” he said and some of her fight was lost to her surprise at the way his voice softened. Who the hell was this Killian in front of her now? Where was the fight, the ego? His hand was still stroking hers, his eyes were sincere and unpretentious and even a little self-deprecating. “So, just who are you, Swan?”

She pulled back, drawing her hand from his and crossing her arms over her chest, trying to wither him with her stare. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Wouldn’t he indeed. She was sure he’d love to find out all about her so that he could use it as fuel for their arguments, like some game. The nerve of -

He ducked his head, catching her eyes and stepping even closer to her. Her breath caught at the openness and the sincerity she saw there. “Perhaps I would,” he said and Emma felt her heart pounding against her ribcage. He hadn’t looked at her like that since that night. Since the night she felt for the first time in years that she’d found someone who understood her, someone she connected with, another lost soul, someone she could actually care about, maybe even - She wanted to believe him. She wanted it to be real. It sounded real. It felt real. And he was so close and the way he looked at her..

Emma didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember putting her drink down, but suddenly her hands were gripping the sides of his face and pulling his lips to hers as she rose up on her toes to meet him. He froze against her for a moment, in shock probably she realised, and she grasped the reality of exactly what she’d just done and how stupid it was. But before she could step back, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, his body flush with hers as his other hand traveled up to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck.

She should stop this. This was Killian for god’s sake. Killian, who she hated. Killian, who she swore she’d never let get under her skin again. Killian, who was currently backing them against the wall behind her. She gasped as her back collided with the hard surface and he used the opportunity to slant his mouth over hers, letting his tongue slide into her mouth, making her let out a sound she should have been embarrassed about as heat rushed into her belly. He growled as his hand found her hip, tugging roughly and pressing them even closer together.

She knew she should stop it. This was Killian. Killian, who knew how to push every single one of her buttons, who’d pushed her and challenged her from that first night. Killian, who she looked forward to seeing at every get together if only so they could spend ten minutes insulting each other and she could see his mouth twist into that playful smirk. Killian of the Swans and loves . Of the soft smiles that crinkled his eyes. What if she’d been wrong? What if she’d misjudged him? All these years.

Emma slowed, her hands which had at some point ended up in his hair released their grip and she let one settle around his shoulders, the other sliding down over his chest to rest in the v of his shirt. She could feel his heart racing under her palm, matching her own’s frantic beating. Killian froze again, and then something changed. His hand released it’s nearly painful grip on her hip and slid up her back to rest between her shoulder blades. The hand that was fisted in her hair came around to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek as his lips slowed over hers, his movements no longer desperate and needy but gentle and exploratory.

She let him kiss her, let him open her mouth wider under his own, let him pull at her lips and slide his tongue against hers with a give and take that felt so familiar it sent her heart racing again as a warmth built in her chest and in her stomach and bloomed out through her limbs. She felt his shoulders relax under her own as he melted against her, pressing her against the wall like he wanted to feel every inch of her skin against his through their clothes, feel her heart beating against his and drown her in the warmth that was radiating off of him. She was burning up from the inside out.

He pulled back after a long moment, pressing his forehead to hers, eyes still closed and lips still close enough to touch if she just tilted her head every so slightly. The hand that had been at her cheek slid along her jaw, thumb brushing over her bottom lip as his breath puffed hot against her face. His fingers trailed slowly and featherlight along her spine.

“Emma,” he breathed as her hand came to his cheek, tracing the stubble under her fingers. She was only just pulling him back in when the music stopped.

The lights coming on were like a bucket of ice water being thrown over her. Somewhere, someone was announcing that it was midnight, that it was time for everyone to remove their masks and reveal who they really were.

She saw it in his eyes, the regret as he reached for his mask and it hit her like a blow to the chest. She caught his hand, stopping him from ruining the only excuse she had. If he didn’t, then she could claim she didn’t know it was him. She could convince herself it was all just a mistake. “Swan,” he spoke again, searching her eyes for something she couldn’t give him. This wasn’t who they were.

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you,” she warned. She watched as his lips pressed together and his head fell before he nodded.

“Fair enough,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back just enough that she could squeeze by.

She did. And then she ran.

***

tagging @kmomof4 and @xsajx because you asked :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part two!

#captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs au #captain swan au #much ado about nothing #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #shakespeare au

78 notes · View notes

thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years

Note

Halloween prompt: Alfred is getting increasingly annoyed at whoever is eating the halloween candy. No one will confess. (Bruce is sitting in a corner somewhere with a bag of... [insert Batfamily appropriate candy here])

Three Musketeers

Rating: G 1,844 words Gen AO3

Bristol was technically in Gotham City limits. Though the gilted mansions and private woods with pastures and stables seemed like a whole other world in comparison. The residents liked to think so too, especially because – despite Gotham’s robust public transportation system – it was almost impossible to reach the rich suburb from the city proper. It was because they lived in this separate world that Bristol’s wealthy residents often fought to receive special treatment or even secede from the city all together.

Except when it came to Halloween.

The residents of Bristol were more than happy to hold their trick-or-treat night during the same time as the rest of Gotham. Mostly, because it discouraged the city’s poorer residents from coming out to ask for literal handouts from them. The time it would take to sit in train stations and bus stops to get there ate up a large chunk of trick-or-treat’s two-hour window. And the walk from the last stop and between the houses took up the rest.

Despite all this, many made the trek out to Wayne Manor and its residents always made it well worth the work.

It was known that the Manor didn’t simply give out full-sized candy bars, no, they gave a whole bag of king’s sized bars. And from the entrance way to the ballroom off to the side were decked out and fitted to be a haunted house with games and entertainment and even more snacks. There was no reason to go anywhere else when you went to Wayne Manor.

Except, this year the seemingly endless supply of candy was mysteriously missing in the week leading up to the big night. Which was ironic considering the Manor was populated by detectives.

Alfred was suspicious. And annoyed. But mostly suspicious. He had raised the world’s greatest detective and then helped raise the current world’s greatest detective. In addition to the other seven vigilantes he’d actively cared for over the years. And countless others who hadn’t lived under his roof. Which meant that he was extremely hard to pull something over on. Extremely.

Yet, his stockpile of trick-or-treat candy was gone. Completely. And his list of suspects was long and skilled.

First, was Barbara because he loved the young woman dearly but she was a bit of a chocolate fiend. Also, if he could rule her out then he could enlist her assistance. It was easy enough to make her coffee just the way she liked and message her to come to the kitchen when she was working in the Cave one evening. She was happy enough to come up, thinking it was just for a chat but knowing something was up when Alfred passed her the mug.

They studied each other from across the long wooden table that took up the far side of the kitchen. Alfred sipped his tea from the good china that after the last family debacle was his alone to use. Barbara narrowed her eyes as her glasses slipped down her nose. They were playing a high stakes game of chicken and they both knew it.

Barbara broke first. “Is there something you wanted to talk about, Alfred?” she asked sweetly, setting her coffee down and pushing her glasses back up in the same movement.

“Now that you mention it, yes. I was wondering if you happened to know where my trick-or-treat supply is disappearing to?” Alfred’s lips turned up in kindness, but his eyes were hard and steady as he held her gaze.

An adult, a seasoned crimefighter, an honest to god superhero and yet Barbara wanted to wriggle in her chair, knot her fingers in the hem of her t-shirt, under that look. Pure willpower was the only thing that stopped her. Though it didn’t extend to her mouth. “No, I’ve been out of town most of the week.”

This was true, Alfred knew, but not necessarily an airtight alibi.

“Besides,” Barbara continued, “I have a Costco card. The Birds and I split it. If I wanted to eat a whole bag of candy, I’d just buy my own.”

Alfred nodded, lifting his tea to take another sip. He accepted that answer, she knew better than to lie to him. “In that case, might I enlist your skills to uncover the real culprit?”

This was what Alfred had truly wanted to ask, they both knew, and Barbara smiled in delight at the prospect. “I’d love to.”

The next suspect was Tim. He knew exactly how to cover his tracks and misdirect their attention. Tim was sly, smart, and still technically a teenaged boy so sugar was irresistible. Barbara set the trap, crashing the Batcomputer one afternoon when everyone else was out. This forced Tim up, out of the Cave and to Alfred lying in wait in the kitchen.

Tim had climbed up onto a kitchen chair to get at the stash of poptarts on the top shelf of the cabinet above the stove. Proving that he had means, motive, and a record.

“Master Timothy,” Alfred drawled as he stepped out of the shadows. Bruce had to learn the skill from somewhere.

Startling, Tim whirled around and nearly fell from the chair. Dropping the silver packet in the process. It landed on the tile with a crunch. “Look I need the brain power to get the computer back up,” he said hastily, glancing guiltily between Alfred and the fallen junk food.

“I am not here to reprimand you about the poptarts,” Alfred said and Tim immediately relaxed, shooting him a relieved little grin. “But I may have to reprimand you for sneaking something else,” Alfred continued, causing Tim’s face to fall.

“I swear, I only had the one Monster the other week. And I split it with Kon ‘cause we were trying to keep Bart from drinking it. Me and him on an energy drink bouncing round the Tower is way better than a speedster on an energy drink.” Tim’s eyes were wide and the blood that had drained from his face made the boy almost impossibly paler.

Alfred lifted an eyebrow at the confession. Not what he was looking for but good to know all the same. “And what of the candy for trick-or-treat?”

Tim’s brows drew together in confusion. “Uh, I don’t know? I suggested we get milkyways but if you got snickers again then I’m not going to complain.”

“So, you did not eat the supply?” Alfred confirmed, though the fact that Tim was already feeling guilty and hesitant to lie on top of the fact that he had no idea Alfred had purchased boxes of three musketeers cleared him of the crime.

“No?” Tim shook his head as he shrugged.

Satisfied, Alfred nodded. “Enjoy your poptarts, Master Timothy. I shall be moving them shortly.”

“It wasn’t Jason,” Barbara said over the phone. “I have a couple different angles of him being in Paraguay all last week.”

“I never suspected him to begin with,” Alfred admitted as he pushed the shopping cart, restocking for the big night tomorrow. “He never liked three musketeers. Dark chocolate kit-kats are a separate story.” He smiled at the memory of a young Jason carrying a huge box of the candy bars to drop in the cart during his first Halloween with them.

“Cass and Dick are out too,” she continued. “Cass laughed at me when I even suggested it and then confirmed Dick was telling the truth when I questioned him.”

Alfred hummed. Richard had been his next guess, though he was more likely to take them to hand out while on patrol or pass on to his friends’ children than to eat himself. “Master Damian is innocent as well. He scoffed at the implication he would, quote, ‘stoop so low as to steal candy from children.’ He also vouched for Master Duke and neither were anywhere near the spare pantry recently to begin with.”

“Security cameras confirm that.”

“That leaves Miss Stephanie,” Alfred frowned. Stephanie tended to decline any offers of assistance from the Manor’s residents that weren’t directly related to masked vigilantism. Though she recently had allowed Alfred to slip her gas money when she visited during daylight hours. The thought of her taking the Halloween candy just did not sit right with him. It was almost as impossible to imagine as Damian taking it. Cassandra was more likely to be playing a trick on them all, having hidden it for some soon to be revealed reason. “Are you positive Miss Cassandra is not the culprit?”

Barbara chuckled. “I mean, not really. But at the same time why would she? Though why would Steph either? I don’t think it was either of them but I can vouch for Steph. She hasn’t been anywhere near the Cave or the Manor since last month. What with school she’s been staying close.”

“Which leaves us back to the beginning,” Alfred sighed and got in line. “We could create a sting operation though I’d loathe to lose this supply as well. There’s nearly no candy left in the entire state.”

“That I believe. Alright, I’ve got the feed from the events kitchen running on one of my screens. I’ll keep an eye on it for the rest of the night, see if anyone stupid enough to try it again.”

“Thank you, Miss Barbara. I really appreciate your assistance in this matter,” Alfred told her before exchanging their goodbyes. He had plans for a little stakeout of his own.

Placing the boxes in the spare pantry, Alfred settled himself on a stool next to the industrial fridge in the dark. He typed out a careful message in the family’s groupchat informing them all that the missing candy had been replaced and politely asking that it not disappear again before the next night. They would all be getting ready to go out for the night so there is no doubt they would see it. And he would have plenty of time to wait for them to strike.

Hours later, the family was returning and Alfred was still lying in wait. A creak echoed in from the ballroom where decorations were mostly in place. The light padding of rubber soles on the marble tile came closer and closer. Alfred leant further back into the shadows as the door swung open. He held his breath, waiting as the guilty party walked into the kitchen proper, headed directly towards the pantry. Alfred slipped from his hiding spot, keeping low as he crept around the island to come up behind the culprit.

Alfred contained his gasp of shock and annoyance as he flipped on the light. Forcing the candy thief to whirl on him. “Master Bruce!” Alfred scolded. He hadn’t thought his first charge would do such a thing and hadn’t even considered him as a suspect.

Having the good sense to look ashamed and like a ten-year-old boy again, Bruce offered a wavering grin in apology. “You bought three musketeers,” he said as his only defense.

Alfred frowned as he crossed his arms. “And your penance will be handing them out tomorrow night.”

50 notes · View notes

mksc77 · 3 years

Text

A little World Series celebration/Halloween fic :) Hope y’all like it! 💜

"Hi, you guys," Sharon greeted as Provenza and Patrice followed Andy onto the back porch. She nodded at the bottle of wine in Patrice's hands. "Ahh, this is why we're friends. You bring gifts."

"I got red so Louie wouldn't drink half of it," Patrice murmured as she gave her the bottle. "I've gained a few pounds with all of this isolation and have been drinking more than normal, so I'm trying to cut back."

"So have I," Sharon agreed, "but tonight will have to be an exception. My nerves are already shot, and the game hasn't even started." October had been a crazy month for sports. Sharon nor Andy were basketball fans, but with a local team playing in the NBA finals, they'd watched most of the games and had been excited for a Lakers championship. And admittedly had the best sex they'd ever had afterward. The World Series had started just a few days later, and it seemed like they'd spent most of the month glued to the TV. With neither couple having ventured out in the last week or so, they'd decided that a socially-distanced, outdoor viewing of the game together would be reasonably safe.

Andy was watching the pregame coverage on TV. "Damn, I miss Vin Scully. Baseball still hasn't been the same without him."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Oh, god, here we go. There better not have to be a seventh game, because I don't think I can handle another night of Scully mourning."

"The man was a legend!" Andy protested.

"Honey, it's been a couple of years since he retired. I think it's about time to get over it."

"Blasphemy," Andy muttered.

By the Fifth Inning, the game was looking grim. "I feel like I'm watching a little girl's t-ball game," Provenza complained.

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "You clearly never saw any of Emily's games. She was probably the only five-year-old in history to turn t-ball into a contact sport. I was actually relieved when she was a little older and decided to give up other activities to put more time into ballet."

Andy shook his head. "Shocking."

"Wait a minute, what's happening?" Provenza asked when the Rays coach trotted out to the pitcher's mound. "Surely, he's not taking out Snell? He's only allowed two hits all night!"

Andy shrugged. "I wouldn't complain. He's made our guys look like they've never held a bat before."

Provenza sipped his wine. "I'm not complaining, either, but this would have to be the dumbest call—yep, there he goes. This is about to be a gamechanger…He's putting Anderson in? He's been pathetic all month!"

"Did Cash bet against his own team or something?" Andy asked. "It's like he's trying to lose this game."

True to their prediction, Betts almost immediately hit a double down the left field line. After a wild pitch and another hit, the score had turned from a 1-0 deficit to a 2-1 lead in just a few plays.

"There are the boys I know and love," Sharon commented, finishing off her glass of wine and pouring another.

By the last inning, with the Dodgers up by two and one out away from winning the game, Provenza massaged two fingers against his chest. "I don't know if it's the wine or this game that's giving me heartburn. Do you know where my little purple pills are?" He asked Patrice.

"Yeah, in the cabinet right beside your little blue ones," Patrice answered, without hesitation.

"A simple yes would've sufficed," Provenza grumbled.

Andy laughed, and Sharon just focused on her wine glass, trying not to laugh, herself. "I hope there's some Xanax in there somewhere, too," Sharon whispered to Patrice.

"No, that's in my purse." Patrice rolled her eyes. "I'm not above crushing some into his wine glass when he leaves it unattended."

Rusty looked confused. "What's the big deal about blue pills—oh, gross," he whined, connecting the dots.

"Okay, come on, one more strike," Sharon murmured, looking back at the TV. "All right!" Everyone except Rusty jumped up and cheered, yelling and high-fiving. Rusty didn't get the baseball obsession and just watched.

"As much as I'd love to stay and celebrate, it's time to shift the focus to a different variety of balls," Provenza said, indicating for Patrice to get up. "If we don't get home soon, I really might need one of those blue pills, but we're celebrating, one way or the other."

"Do we have to hear this?" Rusty complained.

"It can't be unheard," Andy lamented. "There goes any desire I had to celebrate." Patrice's Viagra jab had been funny, but the following dialogue had been a boner-killer if he'd ever heard one.

"Ewwww, not you, too!" Rusty fled into the house before his gag reflex could be tested any further.

Sharon, a little affected by the night's wine consumption, just laughed helplessly at Provenza's eagerness to get home and Andy's and Rusty's disgust. When the Provenzas were gone, she ran a bath and got one more glass of wine. She'd expected Andy to join her in the bath, as she hadn't thought he'd been serious about his own desire to "celebrate" being gone, but when she got out and found him reading in bed, she was a little disappointed. Still wrapped in her robe, she nibbled at his ear and moved to his neck, thinking she just needed to get things started herself, but Andy shook his head. "Not tonight. I won't be able to do anything without Provenza being in my head, and that's just weird."

"Oh, come on, Andy, the Dodgers just won the World Series for the first time in decades, and in the same month as an NBA championship! When will we have this chance again?"

"I don't know, but not tonight," Andy answered dramatically.

"You can call all the shots," Sharon pleaded. "Whatever you want."

Andy shook his head, unmoved.

Sharon shrugged. "All right, fine." The question wasn't whether or not they were having sex tonight, she would see to it that they did, the question was just how to get there. Her first impulse was to reach for the navy chemise that he could never resist, but something about the situation wanted her to make it a little more challenging than that. Instead, she pulled one of Andy's Dodger's t-shirts over her head and slipped on a pair of panties she knew he loved. "I'm cleaning out my closet tomorrow, so I'm going to go ahead and rearrange some things if we're not doing anything else."

Seeing that Sharon was just in one of his old t-shirts, Andy was relieved that she wasn't going to try to seduce him, so he let his guard down. He went back to his book, but couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. Damn, those legs. They fucked him over every damn time. He admittedly quivered a bit when she stood on her tiptoes and reached for something at the top of her closet and he could see the lacy, rose-colored panties he loved for her to wear peeking out from under the hem of his t-shirt. Closing his book, his attention was now on her entirely, as he still felt safe from her trying to get him in the mood. He could just enjoy the view and leave it at that. Or not. He was done for when she bent over to put something on a bottom shelf. "All right, fine, you win. Let's do it."

Sharon turned to look at him, wide-eyed and the picture of innocence. "What? I think if I've put on an old t-shirt and am cleaning out my closet, you can assume that the moment has passed."

"Please," it was Andy's turn to beg, "whatever you want. And I'll make sure you finish, one way or the other."

Sharon pretended to think it over. "I mean, if you really want to…"

"Yes. Please. And I'll do the dishes and laundry for a week. And I'll wear that godawful chimney sweep costume for Halloween."

"Deal." Sharon bit back a smile as she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Did she know this man, or what? He was so damn easy.

The next morning, Sharon woke up in Andy's arms, which didn't happen all that often. She wasn't a cuddly sleeper, much to Andy's dismay, but she hadn't had the energy to push him off of her during the night.

"Hey," Andy mumbled, feeling her start to stir against him. Eyes still closed, he tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

"Hey." Sharon yawned and nuzzled into his shoulder. "I'm still a little weak in the knees after last night, I've gotta say."

Andy kissed the top of her head. "That makes two of us. Damn. We even scared Poppy out of the room."

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

On Halloween morning, Sharon was reading in the swing on the porch while Rusty studied at the table nearby. Andy walked up the back steps after working in the yard. "What do you want to do for lunch?"

Sharon looked at her watch. "It's 10:00, honey, I haven't gotten that far yet."

"It's only 10:00?" Andy wasn't adjusting to retirement very well. Being confined to the house did not suit him at all. Sharon wasn't a sedentary person, by any means, but she was better at finding things to do and setting personal goals for herself to keep her occupied than he was. She'd been exercising and meditating more than she'd ever had time for before, and while Andy worked out, he still had trouble filling his days.

"Afraid so." Sharon eyed the pumpkins lining the porch steps. "Why don't we carve the pumpkins? That'll be fun, and it'll take some time."

"Anything to distract me from Trademark Law," Rusty agreed. "I'm about to lose my damn mind."

Andy shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Nothing gross, Andy," Rusty warned.

Andy tilted his head. "So breasts are out of the question?"

"Mo-om!" Rusty complained.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Both of you, stop torturing each other!" They had been driving her insane for the last few months.

A little while later, Andy was the last to finish his pumpkin. Sharon and Rusty had taken traditional approaches, but Andy had taken a different direction. "This is my general attitude toward this whole year," he grinned, turning his pumpkin around.

"Wha—Andy!" Sharon shrieked with laughter when she saw "fuck off" carved into his pumpkin. "But you're not wrong about that."

Late that afternoon, Sharon was putting the finishing touches on her Mary Poppins costume. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss last year's costume arrangement," Andy lamented, referencing a bet he'd lost with his commanding officer which resulted in a terrible costume for him, but a low-cut, form-fitting dress of a costume for Sharon, which he was always on board for. There was no party this year, but they were planning to sit at the end of their driveway with their neighbors and cocktails for those who imbibed, which was about as close to a costume party as they could get. "Was there not at least a sexy Mary Poppins option?" he whined, indicating her high-necked white blouse and knee-length black skirt. "Halloween is a good excuse to get away with being revealing, but I'm getting nothing from this."

"Oh, really? I guess that makes my night a little less taxing, then." Sharon leaned closer to the bathroom mirror to apply her lipstick. Shocking no one, Andy had honed in on her ass and otherwise barely seemed to notice she was in the room. He was so full of shit. Men. She gave him a knowing look. "But you know you can always sweep my chimney any time."

#Major Crimes #Major Crimes fanfiction #Major Crimes fanfic #Shandy #mikuscfanfic

25 notes · View notes

magnoliawhetstone · 3 years

Photo

Introducing The Whetstones || 10.31.2020

“Why you wanna marry me anyhow?

So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

Wedding Song || Vows

“People always used to laugh at me when I said I believed in soulmates--as if they were silly myth that didn’t exist. They’d appease me for a moment and then do their best to remind me how the real world works. But I couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe in them--wasn’t it obvious? Now I realize that the reason it was so obvious to me was because I had found my soulmate at seven years old with the little boy living next door to me who would invite me over to play and ride horses and bake with his momma--who made a place for me in his life when others wouldn’t. Soulmates are rare, yes--but they aren’t a myth. And I think our love story proves that. I Happy wedding day, baby. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with my soulmate.”

Jack feels like it’s a dream when he rolls over and finds a head of blonde hair next to him. Of course, he quickly realizes it’s not when he inhales a mouthful of hair and tries not to gag on it. “Hey,” his voice is soft as it comes out, his hand dragging up the soft skin of Lia’s arm until he can twist his fingers into hers, “Mags- hey, you should wake up. Don’t you and Moira have a costume shopping thing happening in like… an hour?” Jack’s eyes flicker to the clock that sits on the bedside table closest to Magnolia’s head and it’s already 10:30- this is the first time he’s slept in in years and there’s nothing he wants more than to stay curled up around Magnolia forever. Jack cuddles in closer and slides his leg between hers, his cold toes pressing against her ankle, “It’s not like you to sleep in like this. Come on, Mags- don’t make me tickle you.” His hand brushes over her side, “I’ll do it. I will.”

“Mmmmhh,” She mumbles incoherently as she feels Jack’s fingers intertwine with hers. “Shopping can wait till later. I am not moving.” She presses herself closer to him to emphasize the point. In truth, Jack was right--Magnolia didn’t sleep in hardly ever but that was before she’d fallen asleep in Jack’s bed with him beside her. Now the idea of never leaving was a thousand times more compelling and she was planning to do just that. She jumped softly as the shock of cold on her ankles but still made no move to get up. Sleeping next to Jack was by far the most comfortable position she’d ever been in and waking up next to him was something she could do forever, if given the option. She yawns lazily, shifting slight to adjust to fall back asleep when she hears his threat. “You wouldn’t,” Lia’s eyes open just a slight bit more, sending him a glare. “Don’t you dare tickle me mister, I can’t be held responsible for what happens if you do!”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” his fingers dance over her side and he gives it a squeeze in hopes that she’ll jump. Jack leans forward and over her, a smile pulling wide across his face as he does, “You know she’ll kill you if you’re late. Or she’ll kill me. Regardless of who she kills, one of us will be suffering, so you really should get up.” Jack lays down on top of Magnolia while laughing - it may not be his entire body weight but they break out in giggles, “Do you have any ideas on what you’re thinking of getting for a costume? I have no desire in the slightest to go get a costume so I was thinking like… James Bond or something. Slick back hair- suit, you know… the usual.” It’s not that Jack hated Halloween- he really didn’t, in fact- he loved getting to dress up, but this year had been weird and he was just ready for the month to be over.

“Jack!” She gasps slightly, laughter escaping from her as she looks at him more clearly. She watches as a few stray curls fall in front of his eyes and her heart jumps in the same way her body did when he squeezed her side. She thought herself a pretty focused person, all things considered--until you threw Jack Whetstone in the mix. Just a look at him and her whole train of thought just fly out the window. Lia’s lips slipped into a sly smirk, her free hand maneuvering up to brush the curls from his eyes before she leaned forward to kiss him gently. “First of all, I’m a princess to her--so that grants me royal immunity,” She teased, another giggle bubbling from within her. She didn’t believe Moira when she called her a princess, but she was also pretty convinced the woman would let her being a teensy-bit late slide, all things considered. “And secondly, I can probably use that immunity on you too--but if you are really that tired of me hogging your bed…” A quick peck on the nose and she thought on his question. “Well I don’t know--I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years. Usually I’m working.” Most holidays she’s working, but that wasn’t the question. “The usual? So, you think you’re usually 007, huh? I mean, I suppose you’re handsome enough for it,” She laughed again, her arms snaking to wrap loosely around his neck. “Well the obvious choice is some sort of princess or--like a mouse? But I don’t know, I kind of think it’d be fun to do something not obvious for once, y’know? Throw everyone off their groove?”

“You’re a princess to everyone, Mags. It’ll always amaze me how you don’t see how people lay down and roll over like lovesick puppies for you,” He pressed his lips to her shoulder and kissed across it- they’d hardly done anything more than kissing and cuddling, but this was enough for Jack for once. This felt right. “I’m pretty damn sure I’m James Bond at all times,” he rolled his eyes at the expected jar comment that he knew would follow- at this rate, he was pretty sure he could afford to buy an engagement ring with the amount of money he owed Magnolia. “What if we did like… a couple’s costume? I know that’s cliche and I know we arent a couple…” his words hung in the air for a moment. What even were they anyways? Basically a couple, right? Just one that never spoke about how they felt, “I’d offer to be someone from Pride and Prejudice but honestly… I don’t think I can pull off the look.” Jack let his hands hang off of Magnolia’s arms, his thumb brushing against her soft skin, “Well… if you’re looking for something not obvious, I think playing it safe is not the way to go.”

“Lovesick puppies?” A soft giggle escaped her lips as she felt him kiss her shoulders. “Oh please, they don’t do that. I just ask nicely and usually they are nice enough to help out--or my bag of baked goods helps. I’m like Mary Poppins but with cookies!” Nothing about this scenario felt wrong or weird to her--like it was just normal to wake up in the bed of your crush without anything having happened the night before and the idea that it felt just right made her smile wide. “Jack--” She looked around the room they were in and let out a sigh. “Dang it, the jar doesn’t count in the bedroom.” Lia sent him a wink and she laughed a little, swiftly moving on to his next suggestion--a couples costume. Or, rather, a not-officially-a-couple couples costume. That name didn’t roll off the tongue half as well--but nevermind that. “First of all, you could pull off anything you wanted to--but even so, Pride and Prejudice might still be too obvious. Oh--wait, you said James Bond, don’t those movies always have a,” She furrowed her brows as she tried to think of the name, it resting on the top of her tongue. “A Bond Girl!” A Bond Girl--you forgot the name of Bond Girl. “What about that? I mean, to be fair I’ve never seen a James Bond movie--am I totally off base?”

If Jack had been drinking water, he would’ve choked, “Doesn’t count in the…” he let out a nervous laugh, “There you go surprising me again, as usual.” He buried his head into Lia’s neck as she rattled out ideas of a bond girl while he tried to think through his own. Austin Powers came to mind- and while that’d be fun, he didn’t think it’d quite hit the mark like he wanted it to. The thing was… Jack was tired of them playing this game- he was tired of them dancing around the idea of a relationship or of dating. They’d been metaphorically dating for most of their lives at this point, and maybe that’s why he’d been so reluctant to truly put effort into sealing the deal because he knew it took so much to start when really… he was ready to have the white picket fence ending with Magnolia tomorrow, if he could. Jack pulled Magnolia closer to him, “Maybe not James Bond… what about… I mean, like… assassins are kinda cool, aren’t they? Or spies? We don’t necessarily need to be characters, right?” It was in that moment that he had an epiphany-, “Wait! Have you ever seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith?” Jack pulled back, a wild grin on his face, “That would be so badass.”

“I have all sorts of tricks up my sleeve,” She grinned and kissed the top of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder. “Haven’t figured me out yet y’know.” Lia teased, her fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair as she listened to his follow up--though her mind was caught up in the idea of a couples costume--whatever they were, it was still enough to dress up in a costume that matched. But they had always done that, in some way--perhaps that was the first sign that there was clearly something more between them. Well, not the first sign--their inability to stay separate from each other was clearly number one. There would have been no shuffling in the tilt-a-whirl line if that wasn’t the case. But it wasn’t like she wanted to stay away either--as cheesy as it sounded, her world never felt more upright and normal than when she was with Jack and it made her heart skip when she thought about it. “Assassins? Oh wait--that’s the movie with Brad and Angelina, right?” Part of her was shocked that she had even seen the movie, but it had been years ago and didn’t remember much of it, except the fact they were married and….were trying to kill eachother. But they could leave that part out. Her face lit up. “No, that’s perfect. Like it’s a fantastic mix of James Bond and Bond Girl but with a twist.” She paused for a moment. “Wait--can we do that scene where they’re dancing in their fancy clothes but she also has a weapon on her thigh?” Lia had always thought that was the coolest part. “I love this idea.”

Jack couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Oh, so you’re telling me sweet little miss Magnolia Barnes wants to walk around with a gun strapped to her thigh and a cut in her dress up to her waist?” He bit his lip to bite back a bigger smile and squeezed her side, “I mean- it’s an easy costume, right?” Mr. and Mrs. Smith. He could do that- it was classy enough for a ball, but fun enough for a couple’s costume. Jack thought about the little paper ring in his bedside dresser- he’d been playing around with origami for a while and he’d made it on a whim- hoping to give it to Magnolia as a fun, whimsical gift when she needed a pick-me-up. It took a moment- a moment of Lia fumbling around with her words and Jack staring at her lips moving for him to comprehend the thoughts racing through his head. Lia. Ring. Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Couple. Costume. Ring. Lia. Ring. Mr. & Mrs. Jack sucked in a breath of air- the thought… the idea was crazy. It was… Jack knew it was possibly maybe even the dumbest thing he’d ever do or even suggest- but they’d waited so long. It was gonna happen someday, anyways, wasn’t it? “Hey… Magnolia?” Jack waited until he’d caught her eye, “You remember when our parents sat us down and told us that one day we’d be required to marry?” He remembered that day- it’d been the best day of his life- getting to marry the girl he’d been in love with for years sounded like heaven. “I know I acted like I was upset- like I didn’t want it,” Jack sucked in a deep breath. Was this going to be the conversation they’d been avoiding for months? Now? In his bed, a mess of tangled curls and twisted bedsheets? “But since then, I haven’t really thought about anything but getting to marry you. I haven’t seriously dated anyone since then- not without that thought of getting to be at the end of an aisle you get to walk down to me.” He pulled himself away from Magnolia and dug around in his bedside drawer and when he rolled back over, he held the little paper ring up between the two of them, “I guess I’m just trying to…” he paused, sucked in a deep breath, and asked, “Why don’t we just go as Mr. & Mrs. Whetstone instead? Would you marry me and give me the honor of making you my forever partner? Even more so than you already are.”

“Maybe I’m not so sweet after all. It’s not fair if only Nic gets to have all the fun” She nudged him lightly, jumping with a laugh at his squeeze. “I mean, that’s proof enough that its definitely not something people would think I’d wear.” Lia nodded a few times--Mr. and Mrs. Smith, that was perfect. After all, she already had dresses like that...well, not exactly like that, but she could find one easily. Plus, getting to see Jack in a suit was not her idea of a bad night, that’s for sure. It was a masquerade ball too! So they’d fit right in--wow, there really couldn’t have been a better costume idea. Her mind wandered around the idea again, trying to figure out just where she was going to get a thigh holster in Chicago--and also how to put one on. Maybe she’d get Moira to help her...Blinking a few times, she heard Jack use her name and her eyes locked with his. Something was different in the way he looked at her and she chewed her lip lightly, suddenly slightly nervous. Slowly nodding as she sat up, she listened, suddenly she was immediately back in that chair, all the way in South Carolina, looking at her momma as if she was crazy--when in reality she believed this might have been the only good thing she’d ever done. Marrying Jack was the one part of her future she had never wanted to change--and finding him again reignited a slight bit of hope that maybe it wouldn’t have to. She knew it was a long time coming if that were the case, right? Right? There was...was no way--was there? Magnolia heard the words he was saying--the words that echoed exactly what she felt but it wasn’t until a small, crafted paper ring appeared between them that Lia felt herself gasp loudly. Her hand flew to her mouth as she looked at him, the ring, and him again. No, this had to be a dream--there was no way he was proposing to her--and yet… “Jack--” Her mind spun, trying to find words to complete her though, the moment rendering her speechless in the best way. “Yes!” She finally managed to say, in between laughs and sniffles. It didn’t matter to her that they hadn’t ever said they were a couple--or been on a date. Magnolia Barnes had always known what her answer would have been if he had asked her to marry him--that was a choice she had made on her own years ago and one that had not changed. “Of course--of course. I can think of no better way I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life, Jack Whetstone. No better way.” Without thinking, she pulled him into a kiss--perhaps with slightly more force than she had anticipated. “Oops,” She giggled slightly, “Sorry.”

Jack felt his heart throb in his chest- the moment of silence that lingered between the two of them as he got his words out and just before she answered felt like a million years and less than a second all in one moment. Her ‘yes!’ had him laughing, tears maybe brimming his eyes (not that he’d admit that) and he eagerly leaned into the kiss, not at all minding the way their teeth clashed together as he went. Jack pulled back after a few more kisses and hopped out of bed- he followed the movement with half a happy dance and half a pace across the room, “Okay- we gotta call Momma, I’ll call the private jet company- Vegas sounds good, right? Not that either of us would normally get married there, but that makes sense, right? We’ll find a photographer and get married tomorrow morning. Halloween. Fly back just in time for the gala and then… surprise everyone?” Jack bit his lip- while he may not have been a planner like his fiance, he still liked to have things in order. “We’ll get you a dress in Vegas. Maybe get Elvis to marry us, too?” Jack was certain that his Momma would never let him get away with only an elopement, so the idea of having fun with the first ceremony- one for just the two of them (plus his momma), was his ideal perfect day. Jack jumped back on the bed and pulled Magnolia into another kiss, “Come on’, future Mrs. Whetstone- we got a lot to do and you still gotta go see Moira.”

A wash of utter joy spread over Magnolia’s entire being as she watched him react to her acceptance and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him--with her fiance. She wasn’t sure she could smile much wider than she currently was--but it was impossible for her not to try at that thought. Fiance. Future Husband. How long has she thought about that far off idea--and now it was here. Like really really here. “Wait--today?” Lia looked over at him pacing, blinking a few times as she caught up with what he was saying. “You mean like...like actually get married today?” The idea was--well, he was right. It wasn’t like either of them to do this and yet...it also made complete sense. Lia had just said she wanted to do something unexpected--and getting married out of the blue was pretty much the epitome of that. Though, as big of a risk as it was, it also felt like...common sense. Of course they’d get married today--how long had they already waited, in a relationship or not? For once in her life, the blonde had no reservations about this idea. Another laugh erupted from her chest and she nodded quickly. “For someone who doesn’t like to plan ahead, you sure are impressive in the moment. But yes--that sounds absolutely perfect. And honestly very easy--who said planning a wedding was hard?” She teased, kissing him back with a grin and doing her best to not get caught up in the moment again--not an easy feat. “Mmm, I’m up, I’m up--you’re little plan to get me out of bed worked a little too well. But go call your Momma, Mr. Whetstone, before her superpower figures it out and you’re in hot water.” Lia giggled, tugging gently on his curl as she skipped to the bathroom--there sure was a lot to do, no time to waste.

#[[its that elm shade red road clay you grew up on; jack]]#SCREAMS IN SURPRISE!!!#[[homecoming queen?; headcannons]]

6 notes · View notes

yoonjinkooked · 5 years

Text

I Miss You | Jungkook

Pairing: Y/N / Jungkook

Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst (mostly pining) and comedy, oneshot

Warnings: (cursing, brief mentions of anal sex (jokingly), banter, oblivious Jungkook, heavy pining on both sides)

Word Count: 3666

Summary: You are in love with your best friend and he doesn’t know it. When the two of you start breaking a long term tradition of yours, feelings become more obvious on both sides.

A/N: Jimin’s bday gift for JK fucked me up. ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ is one of my all-time favorites and today it pushed me back into Blink 182 and “I miss you”. So, I wrote this in like two hours completely inspired by the song, even though I had other stuff to write. I will go do that now. I hope you enjoy this, let me know what you think!

You could laugh at how stupid this whole thing is.

It is so ridiculous and plainly stupid but it still affects you, more than you would like to admit to anyone.

Since you were 18 and a broke college student, you and a fellow broke college student became friends, bonding over your love of music, movies, TV shows and essentially irrelevant pop culture knowledge. It didn’t take long for you and Jeon Jungkook to have weekly movie nights together, whether at his dorm room or your run down rental apartment.

It also didn’t take long for those weekly movie nights to end up being limited on one movie and one movie alone: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

There was something about that masterpiece that drew you both in, time and time again, never becoming boring. Of course, you needed to make sure of that: a few months down the road, movie nights were still a weekly occurrence but ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ nights were monthly.

You obsession went as far as dressing up as Jack and Sally for Halloween – it was a horribly executed costume, tragic even, but the two of you loved it. It was your thing. No one understood it but no one needed to – the two of you have always known.

Adulthood came knocking, graduations came and went, jobs became a daily and not a temporary thing but somehow, you and Jungkook still followed tradition.

Even three months ago, when Jungkook packed up and moved half the world away. Even with seven hours between the two of you, you still spared one day a month for your tradition.

Granted, you barely even watched the movie anymore – you would be too interested in catching up with one another, Skype was a bitch and constantly lagging and the first 15 minutes would always be spent in trying to play the movie at the same time. After yelling at each other and blaming the other one, and of course Skype, you would both just play the movie at your own terms, barely paying attention to it because you could finally look at each other again, even over a computer screen.

You were supposed to be having your movie day/night now. And for the first time in 6 whole years, Jungkook stood you up.

Twice before, movie night was cancelled. Once by you, once by him, very much in advance. And even then, it would simply end up being re-scheduled. Nothing stopped your movie nights, not illnesses, not real-life drama, not a whole ocean between the two of you.

Which is why it is actually painful now, when he did not show up.

He is online – you can see the little green light shining on his Skype name. It’s not yet late night in his time zone – he should be here. Or at the very least, texting you and asking for a last minute re-schedule.

And yet he isn’t. It’s stupid and it’s trivial and who the hell would be hurt with this but it also makes perfect sense because this? This feels like an ended chapter. No, a whole closed book.

Over the years, you and Jungkook always hovered between being the best of friends and maybe, just maybe, something a little bit more.

Frankly speaking, you had a stupid crush on him for several years and never did anything about it, perfectly aware that said crush had ruined every single attempt at a relationship you have ever had. You tried to leave it behind, knowing you would never be able to put your feelings into words, much less actions. You knew your longing for Jungkook would always remain unsaid and you tried to move on. There were men, one night stands, serious relationships, all of it – and none of it worked.

Him moving miles away didn’t have the desired effect either. It was still there, in your heart, annoying you and making it painfully obvious just how strong the stupid crush is.

But this? This situation from today? It finally did what nothing else could do.

It showed you that you and Jungkook will never be.

Seemingly meaningless to someone else, a punch in the gut for you.

JK: Y/N? You there? [4:24 AM]

JK: Y/N!!!!!!! Come on! I know you’re up! [4:36 AM]

JK: btch, I know you’re up and watching Walking Dead or something [4:39 AM]

JK: Ugh, fine, whatever [4:51 AM]

Y/N: I was sleeping, dumbass [9:08 AM]

Y/N: What do you want [9:08 AM]

JK: Finally! I wanna reschedule our movie night – I couldn’t make it last night, sorry. You wanna do it tonight? [9:14 AM]

Y/N: Can’t do it tonight – have work to do. [9:14 AM]

JK: Tomorrow night? [9:16 AM]

Y/N: Soz, work. [9:16 AM]

JK: Any night in the next two weeks? [9:17 AM]

Y/N: Ask me in a few days, I will know more. [9:22 AM]

“Thank you so much for taking me out tonight,” you smile at your date, trying to make the awkward first-date goodbye a little less awkward. Hoseok is a kind, charming guy – on paper, he is exactly what you need, what you had hoped to find. Stable in all the right ways and not textbook proper. If you were to let your imagination run wild, Hoseok would be a perfect long term companion – yes, one date was more than enough for you to realize that.

“It was my pleasure,” he smiles brightly at you, a smile that should make your stomach somersault. It doesn’t. As much as you want it to, it doesn’t. “I would very much like to do this again. Are you free on Monday, for example?” he suggests.

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you avoid giving him a direct answer, despite knowing you have absolutely no plans for Monday night. You don’t want to lead him on but you are not brave enough to say it to his face. “I’ll message you once I know. Thank you so much and have a good sleep,” you tell him, hand already on the car door – you didn’t want to give him a chance to do something more.

“Bye Y/N,” he smiles at you as you close the door, the sound of it making you flinch.

He is perfect but he is not him.

He is not your stupid best friend, the one who eats too much ramen and misses scheduled movie nights and snorts when he laughs and cries during cheesy romcoms and makes you laugh like no one ever has.

He is not the guy you are insanely comfortable with, the guy who had made you shed every single mask you have ever worn and show yourself to him for who you really are. He is not the guy you want, he is not the guy you need.

But unlike Jungkook, he is here.

You cannot string Hoseok along and you cannot let your feelings for Jungkook take over you – it’s over and you know it. You just need to learn how to live with it.

You are so sure that you’re dreaming, you don’t even bother lifting your head, much less answering your phone when you hear it ringing. Soon enough, it stops and you almost fall right back into your dream before it rings again – and this time too, you don’t even bother because it’s obviously a dream.

The third time it had started to ring, you know you’re not dreaming.

You also know that it’s fucking late and as ‘How I Met Your Mother’ had taught you, nothing good happens after 2AM.

With a sense of dread, you do reach for your phone, not bothering to open your eyes as you try to slide your finger on the right area.

“What?”

“Hey… it’s me,” you recognize his voice instantly.

“Jungkook what the fuck do you want?” you sigh. “It’s almost,” you pause to look at your phone’s clock, nearly blinding yourself in the process, forcing your eyes shut as soon as you saw the exact time. “It’s past 4AM. What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” he apologizes instantly. “But I just wanted to see what you were up to.”

“What I-,” sometimes, like right now, you cannot believe the stupidity Jeon Jungkook can utter. For a genuinely bright and knowledgeable person, there are times when he truly is the biggest dumbass you have encountered in your whole life. “I’m sleeping – what the fuck did you think I’d be doing?”

“Sorry for waking you up,” he mumbles. He doesn’t even have to be in front of you for you to know that he is pouting – right about now, he is looking like a kicked puppy, making you want to hug him and punch him at the same time, because even with an entire ocean between the two of you, he is using his charms in his favor – he knows how fucking whipped you are for his pout, even if you can’t see it.

“Did something happen?” you ask, finally realizing that he must have some reason to call you at this hour.

“Why weren’t you here today for our movie night?” he blurts out.

“Huh? Jungkook, we didn’t plan a movie night today.”

“No, we didn’t but we always have it on a Saturday,” he tells you. “I just assumed after weeks of not having one, we will have one this Saturday.”

“I never confirmed that,” you mumble, suddenly not as sleepy as you were seconds ago.

“I watched it alone,” he admits, his voice sounding oddly sentimental. However, you are still sleepy and could very well be imagining the whole thing. “It felt so weird, to watch it without you. It felt wrong.”

“I watched it alone the last time we had our movie night,” you remind him, hoping that you don’t sound too sour. You are not angry – you’re really not. Yes, you are still a little bit hurt, but not by his actions. You are hurt because those actions made you realize the truth you have been avoiding for years now. “It felt wrong then too. But life goes on.”

“What do you mean life goes on?” he asks.

“Life goes on,” you repeat. “We live in different places now. We have our own obligations. I had a date tonight – last time, you had… whatever it is that you had. We are not those stupid students anymore, Jungkook. Traditions are cool but real life gets in the way.”

“I don’t want life to go on without our tradition,” he uses his kicked puppy voice again.

“Me neither but tough luck.”

“Was the date good?”

“It was,” you answer honestly. You could never lie to Jungkook – not in person, not over text, not over the phone. Keeping things to yourself was a more common practice than you’d like to admit but never have you lied to him. “It was good but there won’t be a second one.”

“That’s very contradictory,” he points out.

“I know,” you sigh. “I guess I just had to admit to myself that he wasn’t what I am looking for.”

“Y/N, do you even know what you are looking for?” he chuckles.

Better than you might think. “I know exactly what I am looking for. Sleep. Goodbye Jungkook.”

“Y/N, wait-“ he tries to stop you.

“We will talk in a few hours. Goodbye!”

You had to end the call before you ended up saying things you will likely end up regretting. They were there, on the tip of your tongue. It would have been so easy to say them, to finally not carry that burden with you. It would have been easy, therapeutic even. But the aftermath? The aftermath would have destroyed you and you knew it.

You curse when the ringing drags you away from your dream – it was a good dream too. You were eating chicken wings and someone, you can already imagine who, decided to pull you away from it.

Jungkook and you had a timetable of times when it is socially acceptable to call the other one – different time zones made you do it. For four months, both of you were perfectly capable of sticking to it. Except, over the course of last week, Jungkook had decided to blatantly ignore it, several times.

“Jungkook, this is the third time this week you wake me up at the dead of night,” you answer the phone angrily, not even checking the caller ID because you know it’s him. “What do you want?”

“I miss you.”

“You truly could have waited a few more hours to tell me that.”

“Actually, I couldn’t,” he tells you, to which you just roll your eyes. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to not interrupt me now – I have something to say. Are you awake enough to listen?” he checks.

“I am,” you mumble. Yeah, now you are, when the dumbass woke you up.

“I miss you,” he tells you the same thing again, the words not having much of an effect on you because you know he is not missing you in the way you want him to. “It pisses me off that we don’t have our movie nights anymore. It is just so wrong to watch ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ without you and it pisses me off that it’s like that – it’s just a stupid movie. I should be able to watch it without thinking about you every damn second.”

You want to reply to that, of course you do, but his earlier request and frankly, your surprise, leave you speechless. You do however sit up, knowing that even if you ended the call this second, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for the remainder of the night.

“I know that this is not something I should be doing right now,” he continues. “It’s wrong and if I am going to say it, I should at least say it to your face and not over the phone, at the dead of night. But I just… I can’t keep it in anymore, you know? I miss you. I miss you so fucking much Y/N.”

You want to ask him why, you want to brush it off. After years of keeping your hopes down, you don’t want one misunderstanding to get them up. You know, you just know, he doesn’t miss you like that.

“Ever since I got here, I have kept living with this horrible feeling,” Jungkook admits, swallowing lumps as he speaks. “I know I have made a mistake. I knew it even before I left. I thought it would clear my head, lessen your influence or whatever… and it just didn’t. I am still feeling the same way about you as I did before and now I can’t even see you. I sabotaged myself.”

He is talking about his feelings for you, he said it in those very words and still, you don’t want to believe what you’re hearing, knowing that if you believe it, the eventual truth will leave you broken. Your heart however gives you away – it starts beating faster, excited at what this could mean.

“I miss you, Y/N. And I don’t just miss you as a friend. That’s a given, that will always be true, even if you don’t ever want to see my face after tonight. But I just needed to put it out there before I… exploded. I miss you. I want to be right there, right next to you. Kissing you, holding your hand… doing all sorts of things to you, things that would make you blush and kick me in the shin if I were to voice them. I don’t want to scare and chase you away, I don’t want to lose you as a friend, that’s exactly why I haven’t said this for so long but I just can’t keep it in. Not when you are ditching movie nights and going on dates and living your best life while I am… pining after you. And I don’t blame you – you didn’t know, I made sure of that. But now you do. And whatever your response is, just know that I will always consider you my best friend, whether you let me fuck you into oblivion and hold your hand 24/7 or if you never want to see my sorry ass ever again.”

For the first time in a very long time, your heart and mind are on the same page. One is not trying to hold to hold the other one back or to push it into something that makes no sense. No, your heart and mind are not working together, both perfectly aware and very accepting of that fact that for you, it was always going to be Jungkook.

Whether your feelings are returned or not, whether it never happens or lasts a lifetime, it was always going to be him.

And now, when your mind is finally accepting, and aware of Jungkook’s feelings, you can finally embrace the feeling you have spent years, fucking years, trying to escape.

He likes you. Hell, if he’s anything like you, he is in love with you. ‘Like’ is too weak. You like someone you barely know. When you know the person you like, when you actually know them, the way you and Jungkook know each other, it’s more than just ‘like’.

“Can I talk now?” you ask.

“I kind of want to say no,” Jungkook sheepishly admits. “But I know you have to. So go on, Y/N. Go on and break my heart. For all I know, that may be the exact thing I need.”

“Okay, now I’m going to ask you to shut the fuck up,” you deadpan, not surprised when you hear silence on the other side – Jungkook was never a push around but the truth of the matter is, he knows how scary you can get when you are angry. He doesn’t want to make you angry, not right now. “Seeing as you moved your ass to a different continent and couldn’t wait till the morning to call me, you are obviously blind and completely unaware of the massive crush I’ve had on you for years.”

It’s his turn to be stunned to silence.

Or maybe he’s quiet because you asked him to. Shit.

“I’m done,” you tell him. “Your turn.”

“That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“Are you seriously complaining right now?” you ask in disbelief. “What more do you need? I like you, you dumbass. I have liked you for years! I want you here, next to me, holding my hand and all that shit. And all the things you say you want to do to me, if I were you, I would compile a list of them before coming back home because I’d let you do them all.”

“Y/N, are you-“

“Well, maybe not all. I’m still iffy about the butt stuff.”

“Are you seriously talking about anal while confessing your feelings for me?!”

“I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up for nothing, that’s all,” you admit in a low voice. You know you’re going to end up regretting saying this. Jungkook has a horrible, yet endearing habit of reminding you of all the embarrassing things you have ever said in his presence and mentioning anal sex in the middle of such a heartfelt conversation will definitely make the cut.

“I miss you even more now,” he admits, sighing into the phone. “Do you seriously like me?”

“Yes,” you reassure him. “It’s weird, I know.”

“Hey!”

“It is!” you argue. “You are my best friend. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”

“Or maybe it was absolutely supposed to happen that way,” he counters. “Is there a better feeling than falling for your best friend?”

“Hell yeah, it’s a horrible feeling,” you laugh. “It only feels good when you know it’s not one-sided.”

“Okay, you do have a point there,” he chuckles. You find yourself feeling all giddy on the inside, biting your lip and fighting the urge to yell out of pure happiness. It’s actually happening. After years of not being able to keep him out of your heart, you finally don’t have to. Sure, the whole conversation is weird as fuck but it’s also very Jungkook. Very you and Jungkook. If it had happened in any other way, it would not be so characteristically you. “So… now what?”

“You’re the one who moved away – you need to answer that one.”

“Temporarily,” he sighs. “I tell you this every time Y/N, it’s temporary-“

“Yeah, yeah.”

“-because I literally can’t stand being away from you,” he ends with a sigh, making your heart flutter all over again. “I’ll still be here for two months. I’d say… maybe you should go to your living room and play our movie. And we can watch it once a week, sticking to our tradition. And then, when I come back home, I will kiss you silly and make both of us regret being silent for as long as we were.”

“You gonna date me?” you giggle as you get up and head straight for your living room.

“I’m gonna date the shit out of you,” he announces.

“Are you gonna meet my parents?”

“I already know your parents, Y/N,” he laughs and you chuckle too, as you turn on your TV. “But I’ll gladly meet them all over again. We need to discuss how much you’ll be bringing into our marriage, after all.”

“Oh, fuck you!” you laugh.

“Give it two months babe and you will do just that.”

“You are insufferable.”

“And you love it.”

Watching ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ was always a special tradition for the two of you, but never more special than now, with him half the world away and on the phone with you, while you banter and ignore the growing feeling in your chest, acting as if this is a completely normal thing to do on a Wednesday at 3AM. Because for the two of you, it kind of is.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #bts fic #bangtan fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot

436 notes · View notes

writingpuddle · 5 years

Note

The foxes and Andrew reacting to Neil with a British accent?

Hey anon im p sure you sent me this like a million years agobut I found it again when going thru my asks yesterday so here goes myattempt at a bulletpoint fic:

Neil grew up in the states, sohis default accent is American, but he is ridiculouslygood at imitating. Like give him a ten second audio clip and he canextrapolate basically an entire dialect from it

The Foxes discover this aroundHalloween when watching a spooky movie and Neil goes into a perfect deadpanmockery of the Dracula character’s terrible Transylvanian accent

It becomes a thing

The Foxes will give him an accentand just set him loose

Neil is kind of surprised bytheir enthusiasm but also secretly very pleased to have found a way to amusehis Foxes

He likes making them happy so henever denies them

Except Kevin, but that is mostlybecause the team gets more amusement from watching Kevin get frustrated and trynot to show how annoyed he is over Neil being such a petty little asshole

Also they discover that if Neilputs on an Irish accent when Kevin isn’t paying attention he will absolutelyJUMP

Give him an order in an Irishaccent and he just instantly starts to follow through before he wakes up,blinking in disorientation as he realizes what he was doing

It’s funny at first, then theyrealize it’s because he associates the accent with his mother, and then itskind of sad, and then Kevin starts telling more stories about his mum and someof the few good memories he has of her, and then it gets funny again because Foxesare Foxes and they do love a good roast

Kevin complains outwardly but itsactually kind of cathartic to talk about his mother

He tells Andrew this inconfidence and Andrew just glares at him like no shit dude, you need fuckingtherapy

Anyways

That summer is going to be thesummer of the girls graduation

So they’re all determined to dosomething big to celebrate

And they get it in their heads todo a Eurotrip

Neil isn’t really payingattention at first because he’s more concerned about whether Andrew will bewilling to do a transatlantic flight

(Andrew is obviously going tocome. Flights suck, but there is no way he can cope with his whole family beingthat far away. He does not feel the need to explain this. It should beobvious.)

That’s when the Foxes pause, alldevious.

They’ve been plotting

“So, Neil,” Allison says. “At what point are you going to introduce usto your British uncle?”

Neil does not see where this isgoing

In fact he is largely baffled bythe suggestion.

“You realize my uncle is agangster, right? Like, literally a crime boss. Possibly the most dangerousperson in Britain.”

“Mm-hmmmmm.”

Neil is ???

“But he saved you Neil,” Nicky says emphatically. “We need to thank him.”

“Uh, kind of by accident, butyeah, technically.”

“You should call him. Just toask. You know, at least give the guy some warning that you’ll be in the area.”

Neil is still kinda confused butokay, fine.

Now here’s the thing

The Foxes have heard any numberof accents from Neil by this point

Including a magnificent Godfatherimitation

And probably half a dozendifferent British ones

But those were always for the laughs

He always picked a terribleaccent or would mock the living hell out of a posh one

Neil isn’t used to being thefunny one so he’s trying his best okay

And it’s fun and all but Neil can’tbe seductive to save his life

Even if you made him speak theFrench, the language of love itself,he’d just sound like he’s talking about the next game because he has zeroflirtability

Face it his and Andrew’sflirting sounds kind of like death threats to outsiders

They deserve each other

SO the Foxes convince Neil tocall up his uncle and they huddle around the phone

Only to be utterly disappointed

Neil talks with Stuart for all ofa minute and a half, just normal voice

He hangs up and tells them thatStuart will meet them in London in May and that they’re going to get him inshit with the FBI for this

The Foxes retreat, mutteringmutinously

Andrew is well aware of what’sgoing on, but it’s halfway amusing so he doesn’t say anything

As the months pass the Foxesbecome increasingly desperate in their attempts to make Neil say something sexy

They make him quote movies, TVshows, read out flirty text messages

One memorable time they even gethim to read out a page from Fifty Shades of Grey in a stuck-up British accent

They almost die laughing

It’s like a fucking superpower

Neil can say absolutely anythingand make it come across totally non-sexual

The Foxes have pretty much givenup by the time the summer trip comes around

Neil spends the plane ridepretending not to fuss over Andrew so by the time he arrives he’s totallyexhausted

And here is what he didn’texpect:

He is totally used to listeningto the local accents and then blending in naturally

It’s very disorienting beingamong the Foxes and their various Americanism, but hearing British accents allaround him

And his instincts are snarled upin knots

Plus he’s fucking tired

So he keeps slipping

First it happens when they passthrough customs, just a little lilt to his voice to put the officer at ease

But then it keeps happening

Stuart sends a couple cars topick them up and take them to this massive place he owns right in centralLondon

Being a crimeboss comes withcertain perks okay

Neil slips up again when he’stalking to the driver, his accent washing back and forth

Everyone else isn’t really payingattention because as excited as they are about Neil’s accent they’re in London and they’re all exhausted and fora lot of them it’s the first time they’ve been outside of the States, ever

Andrew notices

But he doesn’t say anything

They get to the apartment andfind a note there from Stuart saying he’ll pick them up tomorrow for a tour

Everyone splits off into theirrooms to sleep

Neil falls into bed exhausted, but sleep doesn’t come

And Andrew knows this but is tooexhausted himself from the stress of flying to deal with it right away

So he just wraps an arm aroundNeil’s stomach and holds him there as he drifts off

And it’s not enough for Neil toreally relax but it’s enough to make him feel grounded

The next morning Stuart shows upand everyone blinks at him bleary eyed and suspicious

But he’s charming and most ofthem find it kinda disarming

Which is how the Foxes end up takingwhat is probably the most expensive tour they’ve ever had (Allison excepted),lead entirely by a crime boss

Neil is lagging behind a bit buteveryone is so caught up in it that they don’t really notice

Except Andrew

That boy is always attuned to Neil

So he drops back with him andthey have a brief intense staring contest which ends in Neil looking away

They’re standing in Trafalgarsquare watching some street performers so no one is listening

Neil is obviously chewing onsomething and Andrew waits him out

He would wait forever

Finally, Neil just says, “I’vebeen here before.”

Which isn’t much but Andrew’smemory has never failed him before

I couldn’t live there again. I couldn’t retrace my steps to any ofthose places

Andrew knows what its like to feelsick at things that other people would love

So he nods and stands next toNeil the whole day

Not quite touching but closeenough that they can feel each others gravity

At the end of the day Stuart andNeil have a very cordial goodbye and then Stuart leaves them back at theapartment

Everyone is gushing about how charismatiche is and Neil doesn’t bother to correct them

His uncle has always been a bitof a snake-charmer but at least he knows he’ll never hurt his Foxes

They’ve still got a few days inLondon and Stuart’s secured them tickets to an underground dungeon tour thingthat usually has months worth of waiting list

Neil’s a little leery of goinginto a dark underground space, but with his Foxes there he’s sure he’ll beFine™

The team breaks out drinks aftersupper but Neil doesn’t have the energy

(Honestly according to thistimeline they’ve been in London for twenty-four hours they should be jet-laggedto hell and back, but w/e)

So he retires to their room andAndrew follows him like he always will

He sits next to Neil on the bedand waits

God there’s so much fuckingpointed silence between these two dear lord guys learn to communicate

Eventually Neil sighs. “I thoughtit would be okay. With all of them here.”

Andrew mulls that over

He doesn’t know how to admit thatit bothers him too. Seeing Neil reverting back to old habits, trying to blendin like its second nature

But he knows Neil is here to stayso he just slips a hand around the back of Neil’s neck and tugs him in untiltheir foreheads touch, breathing in the same air

Gradually the tension eases outof Neil

“We can go home,” Andrew says

“No,” Neil says. “I want to stay.I want to learn how to…do all of this, as Neil.”

Andrew squeezes the back of hisneck one more time. “Okay.”

It’s a silent promise, one he’sbeen keeping for over a year now: that any time Neil drifts too far, Andrewwill keep him anchored.

Neil knows it and he can’t helpbut smile a little, watching Andrew’s hazel eyes disappear into the shadowbetween their faces.

“Yes or no?” he asks

Andrew draws back a little

“You’ve been dissociating allday.”

“I’m here now.”

Andrew scowls and let’s go ofhim, standing up to go dig out his pajamas from his luggage

Neil flops down on the bed andadmires the view while Andrew changes

(That’s a nice thing. Andrewbeing comfortable enough to change in front of him. Sure, he’s always partiallychanged out in the locker room, but in private it’s different. It’s more. And Andrew is willing to give thatto Neil.)

(It’s very nice.)

“Staring,” Andrew grunts

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

Neil sits up again and tugs onthe front of Andrew’s shirt until he gives in and steps up close, betweenNeil’s legs

His hands go to Neil’s sideswithout conscious decision

“Nicky wants the genuine Europeexperience,” Neil murmurs, toying with Andrew’s hem. He still hasn’t been givenpermission to touch, so he doesn’t. “We’re going to be staying in hostels.Might be the last time we have a room to ourselves.”

Andrew bites down on a thousandimpulses, reflexes to shut Neil down, cuthim out

Instead he just kisses Neil, goodand slow, a reassurance that they’re there,they’re real, and that this isn’t going away

“Andrew—”

“Yes,” he says, and pushes Neilback onto the bed.

You know what happens next

They love each other deeply andprofoundly and all that but they also like each other’s butts ya know

So afterwards they get cleaned upand curl back up in bed to sleep

Andrew climbs over Neil andnearly knees him in the balls and Neil’s laughing a little and Andrew scowls inannoyance as Neil scoots closer

And with the most obnoxious chav accent that’s ever been heard says, “Any chance a bloke could get a bit of a snog before bed?”

It is quite possibly the worstthing Neil has ever said and Andrew does not hesitate in slapping a pillow overhis face to try and smother him

Neil is laughing his ass off andit devolves into some pretty stupid wrestling before Andrew gets Neil pinneddown, straddling his hips

“Bloody wanker,” Neil says, unable to contain his grin

“Shut the fuck up,” Andrew says,and kisses him so that he does.

#i dont think this is what you asked for but its what my brain spat out lol #anon #writing prompt #have i been sitting on this for months?#probably #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #accents #fic #my writing #Chav!Neil #the foxes go on vacation

1K notes · View notes

rosedavid · 5 years

Text

I Love You A-Latte // A Tyrus Autumn Oneshot

“Okay, you look way too happy to be here, especially for test day,” Andi comments the moment Cyrus walks in the school doors.

TJ, who was in the middle of talking music with Jonah, turns to see what Buffy means. After all, Cyrus is normally perkier than the average person, so him acting happy isn’t all that abnormal. When TJ looks at him, though, right away he notices the jubilant, carefree sparkle in Cyrus’s eyes as well as straighter, prouder posture. An easy smile stretches across his face and only grows as he approaches his friends. Clasping his hands together, he rocks back on his heels as if he’s trying to contain the excitement welling inside him.

“Yeah, normally you’d be a sweaty ball of nerves still studying as he walks through the classroom door,” Buffy adds, cocking her head.

Startled, Cyrus wonders, “But don’t you know what day today is?!”

“Wait, is today your birthday?” Jonah gasps but falters under everyone’s gaze. “Sorry, I’m bad with remembering things!”

Andi and Buffy converse to each other through eye contact and subtle gestures. TJ could never understand how the three best friends can converse that way and know exactly what each other are thinking. Every time TJ tries to make heart eyes at Cyrus, Cyrus asks him if he’s feeling okay.

“Well, I know you don’t have any type of family celebrations coming up until your Aunt Ruthie’s birthday in two weeks,” Andi begins.

Buffy continues, “And you won’t hear back about your award submission for another couple days. Also, you don’t have anything specific planned with any of us for today.”

“I still don’t understand how you three know each other’s schedules like that!” Jonah mentions offhandedly. TJ silently agrees.

“Come on, haven’t you noticed a chill in the air today?” Cyrus hints, raising his brows. “TJ?”

“Uh…” TJ trails off, biting his lip. He feels like he should be able to answer this question as Cyrus’s boyfriend, but he honestly has no idea what Cyrus is getting toward.

Obviously, the elation becomes too much for Cyrus to continue containing as everyone makes there guesses, for he finally blurts out the answer. “Autumn! Today is the first official day of autumn!”

TJ scratches his head at Cyrus’s idea of exciting news. To him, the start of fall just means colder weather and back-to-school. It means the end of summer, the end of days basking in the sunshine and staying out late at night; the end of freedom and relaxation. The others all seem to perk up at Cyrus’s comment, however.

“I can finally get some new sweaters and make some fall fashion jewelry!” Andi beams.

Buffy grins over at Jonah. “And we can officially start preparing for Halloween!”

“But Halloween’s still more than a month away,” TJ interjects.

“It’s fall, so it’s now socially acceptable, not that I care,” Buffy responds with a laugh. “I’ve had my Halloween decorations prepared for weeks!”

“I bet my Halloween decorations will be way better,” Jonah challenges.

As all of this ruckus between the group is happening, a hand squeezes his forearm. Cyrus smiles at him, the two of them nearly at eye level now. The waves of energy and exuberance flowing off Cyrus is tangible.

“Aren’t you excited, Teej?” Cyrus questions, noting his lack of cheerful inputs.

He frowns. “Not really, I guess. I don’t like fall that much.”

Cyrus gasps like he just heard the most stunning revelation of his lifetime. He tugs at TJ’s arm incessantly to get his attention, even though Cyrus always has TJ’s full attention. Big brown eyes stare at him with incredulities, lips parted the slightest bit as he processes TJ’s words.

“You don’t like fall?! How could you not like fall?”

“Because it gets dark and depressing and cold, not to mention fall always means back to school!” he defends.

Meanwhile, Cyrus shakes his head stubbornly at all of TJ’s words. He looks personally offended by what TJ has to say about autumn. The way his nose scrunches up indignantly and lips pursing makes him appear even more loveable. He then begins to raise his hands like he always does right before going off on a rant.

“But TJ! What about the sweaters, scarves, and hats? The pumpkin flavored stuff? Leaves that crunch when you walk? Pretty colors everywhere? Apple cider?” Cyrus presses, to which TJ responds with a shrug.

“I just prefer summer.”

“This is blasphemy! Fall is BY FAR the superior season, and I will prove it to you!” At this statement, Cyrus tows TJ along toward the front doors, marching along with a determined look on his face.

TJ looks back at the others with confusion and slight worry. They just laugh at him, waving as they whisper about something. As it turns out, Cyrus seems to be completely set in his decision. He almost walks right out the front doors of the school before class starts. The only thing that stops him is the bell piercing the ears of the students throughout the hallways to signal first period.

“Oh. Class,” Cyrus sighs. “I almost forgot! We’ll have to wait until the end of school. To be continued!”

TJ laughs, briefly leaning his cheek against Cyrus’s dark locks. “So I wasn’t truly saved by the bell?”

“Nope! More like…delayed by the bell,” Cyrus jokes, obviously pleased with himself based on his teasing smile.

“Is today just going to consist of a punch of fall puns?”

“What can I say, I’m just a-corny person!”

TJ snorts, shaking his head as he pretends to stride away. Cyrus jogs to catch up to him, giggling the whole way. TJ jams his fingers in his ears and sticks his tongue out with mirth. Of course, it’s all in fun, so when Cyrus pulls his arms down, he doesn’t put up a fight.

“Wait, I promise no more fall puns if you join me on our fall adventure after school.”

“I suppose,” TJ relents, as if he wasn’t going to go along with Cyrus the entire time.

“Yay! We’re going to have such a gourd-time!”

“Cyrus!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! There’s too many good autumn puns.”

With a roll of his eyes, TJ sighs fondly and leads Cyrus to his first class like usual. They part ways with matching smiles and a lingering hand squeeze before separating. As much as TJ dreads fall, he’s already looking forward to later that afternoon.

…

After the last bell, Cyrus somehow manages to make it to TJ’s locker before TJ himself, despite Cyrus’s class being halfway across school. When Cyrus spots him approaching through the crowd, he waves with enthusiasm, already opening TJ’s locker. Ever since the first day of school, Cyrus has known his locker combination just in case TJ messes it up like he did almost every other day in middle school. Now, he has a failsafe who also leaves bonus, cute notes in his locker.

TJ heaves his stack of books he doesn’t need back into his locker for tomorrow and asks, “Did you run here?”

Huffing, Cyrus responds, “Yes, actually, I did! Thank you for noticing. Contrary to popular belief, I can run, I usually just choose not to.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run,” TJ admits. “Do you want to have a race sometime?” He laughs as Cyrus’s eye widen and he shakes his head in contradiction.

“I think my running abilities for the next month were all used in the last 60 seconds.”

TJ finishes putting stuff in his locker before they head out the door. As it turns out, Cyrus hardly ever uses his locker for books and notebooks. He gets too nervous that he’ll forget something if he leaves it in his locker, so he carries it all in his backpack with him to every class. In his locker he really only keeps his lunch, extra supplies, and a first aid kit which he insisted was necessary to have because “School nurses will never be this prepared, TJ.” Since he never leaves anything in his locker, Cyrus’s bag weighs a literal ton. TJ lifted his backpack once and almost keeled over. He honestly has no clue how Cyrus can carry that much like it’s nothing.

“Should we drop our bags off first?” TJ mentions, not wanting Cyrus to have to lug around his back-breaking bag for the whole day.

“We have to stop at my house first, anyway,” Cyrus smirks secretively.

“Should I be scared? Because I am.”

Cyrus merely giggles, chasing his hand. TJ evades him momentarily to mess with him, but can’t hold off for too long. He catches Cyrus’s hand awkwardly, adjusting their hand holding until their fingers are intertwined. Early on in their relationship, Cyrus gave him a speech on how interlacing fingers is a much more efficient way to hold hands. Of course, TJ agreed because all he cares about is that they get to hold hands. But also, interlacing fingers is way comfier.

Once they reach Cyrus’s house, they drop their bags down at the door. Unsure of what Cyrus has planned, TJ follows his lead as goes up to his room and opens his closet. TJ screws up his face, leaning over Cyrus’s shoulder to try and see what he’s rummaging for. Finally, Cyrus yanks out an armful of fabrics, almost knocking heads with TJ as he stumbles into his arms.

“What is all that?” TJ questions.

“The first step to a successful autumn!” Cyrus exclaims. “You need to get in the autumn spirit, and the best way to do that is get dressed up.”

TJ stares at him, gesturing toward the window where sunlight streams through the open blinds. “Cyrus, it’s like 70 degrees out today!”

“But fall spirit—” Cyrus protests, nudging the clothes further into TJ’s arms. He sticks out his bottom lip, somehow managing to make his lips quiver while he pouts. TJ has no clue how he does it, but he can’t ignore it.

“Alright, fine, but if I get heat stroke, that’s on you.”

A few minutes later, TJ is decked out in all the typical fall garb. He wears a slightly itchy sweater that is too big for him (and if it’s too big for him, it must drown Cyrus). A plain, dark beanie adorns his head, tucked just over his ears. To finish it all out, he wraps a fluffy scarf around his neck. Cyrus is already all decked out for the season in his patterned, pom-pom beanie, sweater, and tiny gloves.

“How are your hands so small?” TJ asks with a choked off laugh as he attempts to borrow a pair of Cyrus’s gloves. He can barely stretch them on to get over the first part of his hand.

“How are your hands so big?” Cyrus retorts, then adds, “I guess we won’t add the gloves. Let’s get going! We have lots to do.”

So, dressed in warm clothes, they head out into the 70-degree weather. Still acting secretive, Cyrus refuses to disclose where exactly they’re going (although TJ knows if he pressed hard enough, Cyrus would cave since he’s not always great at keeping secrets). The walk is slightly unbearable in the hot heat of the day. TJ has the overwhelming urge to scratch at his arms and neck since the sweat is causing the fabric to rub up against his skin. Somehow, though, Cyrus doesn’t seem too bothered by the heat.

“How are you not boiling yet?” TJ asks as they walk endlessly.

Cyrus shrugs. “I dunno. Buffy once told me that I’m akin to a grandpa with the candies in my pockets and my developed wisdom, so maybe being super sensitive to the cold is just another part of that.”

“You have candy in your pockets and you never told me?!”

Laughing, Cyrus pulls out a root-beer barrel on cue, dropping it into TJ’s open hand. “I love how you hear anything to do with food and immediately focus in on it. Luckily for you, our first activity involves food!”

Finally, the arrive at what TJ assumes is their stop. It looks like a little café. Hardly anyone is inside, and as TJ squints at it, he isn’t sure he’s even heard of this place before. They walk up to the front doors, out of breath.

“Welcome to the best, and only place, to get pumpkin donuts at!” Cyrus explains with a grand gesture of his arms. “Pumpkin flavor is a fall essential. Wait—you like pumpkin flavor, right?! I really hope so since that’s what we’re here for. I should have checked—”

“Don’t worry, I like pumpkin flavor,” TJ interrupts with a smile. He then steps forward toward the door, opening it up and holding it for Cyrus to step through.

They order the pumpkin donuts and munch on them in the shade under a large tree. TJ has to admit that they’re delicious. He usually doesn’t eat much pumpkin flavor besides pumpkin pie, but he loves the combination of spices sprinkled atop the donuts. Cyrus watches happily as TJ snarfs down the donuts. TJ licks his fingers at the end, causing Cyrus to wrinkle his nose and pass him a handful of napkins.

“So, what’s next?” he asks Cyrus.

“Next is a scenic nature walk!” Cyrus replies. “The trees out here are gorgeous.”

“Just like you,” TJ mumbles, mostly to himself. Cyrus obviously catches it, though, because the tips of his ears burn as red as the leaves around them.

TJ has never been super impressed with dead leaves falling off trees, but he’s also never seen trees colored so vibrantly. On the main streets of Shadyside, most of the leaves turn a sickly orange color before crumbling off. Out here, further from town, the trees are much prettier. Hues ranging from golden yellow to deep red cover the treetops. All around them, gradients of autumn colors speckle the branches. TJ gapes in awe, staring up at the tall trees as he and Cyrus stroll along a dirt path.

“This is amazing,” TJ chuckles in disbelief. “I’ve never seen trees like this near my house!”

“Yeah, I think the regulation trees in Shadyside are purposefully meant to not be colorful for some reason,” Cyrus sighs.

As they continue on their journey, TJ feels the air take on a slight chill as well as the background darkening. He frowns, looking up at the sky. The sun has drifted behind a cloud that came out of nowhere. As he glances upwards, a fat raindrop lands with a smack against his cheek.

“Cyrus, I think—” TJ starts, before being cut off by the sound of thunder. He startles slightly.

“Rain! This is perfect,” Cyrus laughs with joy.

“Perfect? Why would it be perfect?”

“Because, silly, I can finally show you the joys of gloomy weather.”

TJ becomes more skeptical as the sky darkens impossibly further. It seems as if dusk has already come at 4 in the afternoon. The scent of the air also changes to become more earthy. Lightning flashes in the distance, so far away that he barely catches the bright light. The rain starts as a light pattering, drizzling their clothes with speckled water spots. Then, within the span of minutes, it grows gradually in its intensity before dumping out onto them.

At this point, TJ’s extremely grateful that he’s wearing a sweater. The rain drenching them is freezing cold. Matched with the wind and the dropping temperature, it makes him shiver. Beside him, Cyrus tugs his beanie down a bit to cover the ends of his ears. Nothing can protect them from the complete onslaught of rain, though.

Through chattering teeth, TJ asks, “How is this joyful?!”

In response, Cyrus simply holds out his gloved hand which is now sopping wet. Still, TJ grasps it, letting himself be tugged toward Cyrus. Then, Cyrus reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. A familiar song comes on that makes TJ smile knowingly. Cyrus places his phone back in his pocket for slightly more protection before turning his attention back toward TJ.

“Dance in the rain with me?” Cyrus giggles, reaching up to wrap his arms around TJ’s neck.

“I thought this song was called ‘Singin’ in the Rain, not Dancin’ in the Rain!” TJ jokes, causing Cyrus to send him an accusatory look.

“And you get mad at me for my puns!”

A laugh bubbles up at the back of TJ’s throat. “Okay, fine, you can do puns. I guess it’s only fair. But first, let’s dance.”

TJ places one arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Cyrus’s hand moves down to TJ’s shoulder, while the other two intertwine in the air. They dance slowly at first, but the energy and excitement of the day causes them to mess around, shoes splashing playfully as they sway back and forth. TJ can feel his socks getting absolutely soaked, but he doesn’t care in that moment. He twirls Cyrus a few times somehow, impressing both of them. They quickly get soaked to the bone, but neither faulter in their movements. Cyrus sings the lyrics to the song under his breath, and TJ momentarily gets taken back to the night at Andi’s party.

Caught up in the song, they don’t register at first when it ends. Once they both taper off to a stop, though, TJ finds himself realizing how close they are. He can see the raindrops gathering on Cyrus’s eyelashes and the flush from cold on the tip of his nose. They stand their and breathe for a few beats of rain before their lips join in a cold, wet kiss. Still, it manages to warm TJ’s insides as he clutches the front of Cyrus’s sweater for support.

When they pull away, Cyrus gazes at him and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something romantic. “Now we’re Kissin’ in the Rain,” he grins.

TJ laughs, swatting his shoulder. Cyrus joins in on the laughter. Soon, still giddy with excitement, they take turns leaping into deepening puddles. The continue to frolic for a bit, shoes getting caked with oozing mud.

“Hopefully I don’t loose another shoe!” Cyrus chuckles to himself. TJ makes sure to remember to ask him for the story later.

The storm starts to get closer, so they decide it’s probably best to retreat back toward town. Thankfully, Cyrus planned ahead so they don’t have to walk all the way back. His mom picks them up back at the donut place, chiding them with a smile as they climb into the car sopping wet and covered in mud. When they arrive back to Cyrus’s house, the storm is in full force. They shelter inside, removing their wet clothes and changing into comfy sweatpants and sweatshirts.

“Now, it’s time for the final piece de resistance,” Cyrus claims as he balances two full mugs in his hands. TJ takes one from him, and they bundle up together on the sofa. The mug is just hot enough that it warms his hands without burning them. Sweet steam wafts from the cups.

“Hot cocoa,” TJ comments.

“Hot chocolate, tehnically,” Cyrus corrects adamantly, “Similar, concept, but way more delicious. My mom uses actual chocolate pieces.”

TJ lifts the cup up to his lips, blowing slightly on the liquid before deciding getting his tongue burned it worth it. Searing, smooth liquid enters his mouth. It takes like melted gold, richer and more chocolatey than any hot chocolate he’s ever had. He pulls back, mouth still burning from the warmth of the drink.

“Good?”

“Amazing.”

They sit there in silence for a bit, simply listening to the sounds of the rain and sipping on their hot chocolate. TJ has never felt so content after getting rain dumped on him. He can even still feel droplets of water falling from the tips of his hair and onto his sweatshirt from being so soaked.

“So, what do you think? Are you now convinced autumn is the best season?” Cyrus wonders, finishing off the last of his hot chocolate.

TJ still feels the residual warmth radiating from his mug. The rolling thunder outside somehow seems to calm him. He thinks back to everything that happened that day, from the sweaters to the donuts to the rain to now. He still prefers the heat of the summer, the refreshing chill of the pool, and the lack of school, but today has been one of the most memorable days of his life. He decides, in that moment, that even though the individual aspects of fall may not be his favorite, doing them with Cyrus definitely is.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I think so,” TJ responds, watching the triumphant grin spread across Cyrus’s face.

“I knew I could convince you! What was it that won you over, my awesome fall puns?”

“Now those I could do without.”

“Please you know you’re FALLing in love with them,” Cyrus says, raising up his hand for a high five.

“That pun doesn’t deserve a high five!”

“Come on Teej! Don’t leaf me hanging! I love you a-latte!”

And if, the next day, TJ goes out and buys a bunch of fall sweaters with puns on them, it’s definitely not because of Cyrus.

#tyrus #tyrus fic #andi mack #andi mack fic #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #autumn #fall #tyrus fanfiction #tyrus fanfic #andi mack fanfiction #andi mack fanfic #fluff #cute #fanfiction

170 notes · View notes

kpopchangedme · 5 years

Text

Nocturna: Part V [M]

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You | Im Jaebeom & You

Word Count: 5.4k

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

Your eyes are shut, brows creased in concentration, sweat pearls on your forehead. All you can hear is the sound of the two wolves’ beating hearts behind you; the bird yelling at the squirrel in the sycamore tree; someone rummaging in the Castrum’s kitchen; and…

You tilt your head, focusing. Unfortunately, right when you’re about to get it the Beta behind breaks the moment.

“Come on…” Minho scoffs, irritated. “Louder Yeji, I’m dying over here!”

On the other side of the Castrum ground, several miles away, a crystal high-pitched giggle echoes. One that you hear perfectly. You must actively fight your urge to run over and murder the younger wolf. You aren’t sure why, but it’s inherent, you simply cannot stand the girl.

“Is she even saying something?” You glare at Minho, and his eyes narrow in dislike at your animosity. His rank is way above yours, for now at least, and he’s been tolerant so far since you’re acclimating. It doesn’t mean he’ll always let your rudeness slide, you know that.

“Yes,” Youngjae assures, sitting on a wood bench with an open illustrated book on his knees, “again. What is Yeji saying?”

“Do you even need me?” Minho whines, “We’ve been at it for hours!”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” The Delta points out, flipping a page. Minho pouts, craving being elsewhere, anywhere. He despises you and the feeling is very mutual.

You aren’t dumb, you know why they’re all training with you today, it’s not because they enjoy your company. It’s obviously Chan who asked them to keep an eye on you. You haven’t spoken to each other since that day he fought with the Omegas, but he’s still your mate, and somehow he cares. The following morning you woke up to find out he and Jackson had left for a ‘mission’ somewhere. Chan didn’t even bother saying goodbye. He either hates you now or believes you wouldn’t even have seen him. You might have… You’ve been feeling especially shitty since that day. There's a knot in your stomach, and you know it isn't about your bond. It's him. Even if you are rightfully angry, your old friend is the only thing that feels like home here. That’s why you’re trying to take your training more seriously these days, you need to belong. You are doing your best... But that Beta and that Epsilon are getting on your nerves, always laughing when you’re messing up! Earlier, you couldn’t distinguish colours on brightly lit targets, and they had a field trip mocking you.

Honestly, out of your five senses, your view has changed the most since the bite. It has decreased dramatically in the daylight, so you’re having trouble with colours, but you can see in perfect darkness. Also, your field of vision is way broader than it used to be. Even with Minho and Youngjae standing in your back, you can see them clearly.

“Yeji, focus.” Youngjae orders, not even raising his gaze from his book. “No, not louder, she needs to learn.”

“But she’s so damn slow.” Yeji whines, 3 miles away. “It’s tragic Chan’s stuck with her. I can’t understand what he see-”

“Watch it, glob of snot!” Your lips stretch to uncover your teeth and a weird sound births at the back of your throat.

Behind, Minho’s mouth falls open. “The pup's hearing seems fine after all, she’s just very selective about it.”

“Good.” This time, the kind Delta stands to join you. “After tomorrow night, you’ll be able to hear that from double the distance!” Youngjae playfully hits you with his book, and your cheeks warm. You feel weirdly proud, gratified to have managed to do this little.

“Will he be...” His brows raise and you stop, looking down at the tip of your boots in the grass, too embarrassed.

“The whole pack always goes out as one, once a month.” Minho replies with a smirk, amused you’re acting coy. “I would actually be excited for your First Full Moon if Chan wasn’t there to damage control.”

“Why?” You frown, unsure if a first transformation is anything special to watch. You’ve heard about the pain of the first turn, but not much after their ‘it feels amazing’ usual speech. You are genuinely curious.

“I’d love to watch you go berserk.” Minho snarls sarcastically, making Youngjae close both eyes disheartened. “Given your considerate nature, I bet you'd obliterate an entire villa-”

“I’d obliterate you first, wimp!” Vexed, you jump forward until you’re almost against the Beta's chest. You thought he was giving you advice or some sensitive information at last. Turns out he was just pushing your buttons once more. Every werewolf has been irritated and sensitive today. Anyway, ever since the bite, you’ve been continuously picking up fights.

“Try me.” The triggered older wolf uncovers his canines, holding your glare. He’s threatening without the need of a growl, Minho is still one of the pack’s warriors.

“In its own time.” Youngjae stretches an arm to pull him back, not the least frightened bt the animosity between you two.

“Yeah, challenge me soon, puppy.” The cocky Beta steps away, his weird dire smile still plastered on. “Let’s see you go at it. An Alpha is only as strong as his Lead Huntress after all.”

“Jackson doesn’t have one, but you still run around with your tail between your legs whenever he barks!”

“Careful or you’ll never even make it to your First Moon, bitch!” Minho’s jaw snaps, and you snort, remaining unimpressed. There it is; that word again. “And we do have a Lead Huntress, trust me. You’re nothing compared to her.”

Youngjae steps between you two once more for the confrontation to end. You notice others have already started gathering at the entrance of the castle and on the outskirts of the wood. All lycanth really seem to love a good clash. You don’t even ponder on Minho’s cryptic words about the Alpha, you’re too mad to focus. Perhaps it’s real, maybe your level of irritation and hostility has more to do with the imminent Full Moon than any of your real frustrations.

“The sun is setting.” Youngjae points out blankly right as Sana jogs up to you. “You should make it back to your room, y/n. You’ll need a lot of sleep. Tomorrow’s a pretty big day.”

Agreeing, you leave and no wolf makes a sound as you walk by. You still see the glimmer in their gaze though. Something like elation. No one approved of you the first week, but now they’re curious. They wonder about you picking fights with both Chan and Minho. Will you be a courageous and fierce Lead Huntress? Or are you simply as dumb as a post for continuously angering two of their most dangerous Betas?

The pack doesn’t know yet, but this whole mess is bound to get interesting.

You don’t see anyone in the East Wing on your way to your room. As soon as you enter, you begin to wash off the traces of your long training day. Exhausted, you nearly miss the soft thumping on your door when someone knocks. Fighting back your smile, you hurry to change your dark shirt-gown for a clean nightgown. No doubt that this is Chan finally coming back and... For some reason, it is a relief. You’re oddly excited to tell him all about your progress. Unfortunately, one thing is sure as you open the door, that visitor is nothing like who you were expecting.

The newcomer is wearing all-black, special silky clothes, he’s one with the obscurity. Even with your perfect night vision, you can hardly distinguish his silhouette. There’s a mask from the same fabric covering up his entire face except for his sanguine eyes. No wonder you haven't heard him coming by, no wolf would be as quiet in their own quarters. Your mouth opens in shock as the undead gazes up and down at you. He’s lean and short, barely as tall as you. The first time you faced a vampire you were too human to notice, but this time it hits you hard; his scent of death.

“Y/n?” He inquires, voice as uninterested as it gets. Before you can decide if you should scream or reply, the ominous intruder tilts his head, perceivably. “It stinks of him in here, so I guess you're her.” His eyes skim over your body once more, severe. “The king has called upon you.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“The vampire king.” He repeats, accentuating every syllable like you’re dumb. “Now.”

“What if I don’t go?”

You cross your arms over your chest defiantly. Jaebeom has ignored you for days, what can he possibly have to say to you? You’re changing tomorrow, you don’t have to be at his beck and call, your deal was a one-time thing. You’ve moved on. The vampire snorts at your reply, apparently entertained.

In an instant, you’re gagged and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’s indifferent as you struggle, kicking and biting. Without having turned and reached your full potential yet, you’re no match for his strength. Your captor moves fast, it takes him under a minute to cross the entire Castrum. It’s evident he isn’t taking you to the West living quarters you've been to before. Right before these stairs, he forks in a secret passageway, entering a dark corridor you are unfamiliar with. When he finally stops, you’re buried under the castle, so deep within, that you can’t even hear what’s going on upstairs anymore. If you were to cry or yell, you bet no wolf would hear. You're not entirely sure they'd come to your rescue anyway... The vampire tosses you on your feet, taking out the cloth he shoved in your mouth. As you're coughing for air, he knocks on a door that opens instantly.

“Mark,” Jaebeom’s eyes go from you to his scion, "Were you seen?" You haven’t looked at him yet, too busy glaring and growling at the second rude vampire. Mark. No wonder your fellow wolves don’t like them if they all act like such entitled assholes.

“It was boring and too easy. Even a newborn would've been able to get her, you didn't need a Shadow, Jeonha.” Mark’s words drip self-importance, making your skin crawl. Speaking, he pulls down his mask, revealing his diaphanous features. He is just as inhumanly perfect as the other undead you've seen so far. "Although, I think I vexed your pet..."

It takes you half a second to realize he's talking about you.

“I’m not his, you filthy leech!”

“Oi, are you gonna bite me!?” The bloodsucker laughs, reaching to poke the middle of your forehead. You must be a fast learner because your current warning growl has nothing to do with how you were begging for your life when you first met one of them. If you don’t notice the slight change, Jaebeom certainly does. “Bad pooch.” Ok. That asshole is just straight-up asking to be gutted.

“Just wait a few days...” Your eyes reflect the torches, casting a supernatural light on the scene. “I’ll add your name to my list of priorities, Mark.” His smile turns to a thin line.

“Leave us,” done, the king dismisses his minion, "discreetly." Though he’s obviously annoyed, Mark obeys, hissing as he slowly walks back the narrow passageway. You don’t stop holding his glare until he’s gone. “What was that,” Jaebeom presses once you are alone, highly annoyed, “are the moon mood swings really that bad?”

“Perhaps I just hate being treated like a possession.” When you turn to face the king, he has already disappeared into a close dim-lit room. You ponder on whether to go back upstairs or follow, hesitating. In the end, you’re too intrigued to do what’s best and you enter, though keeping your guard up.

You haven’t seen Jaebeom since your first and last night, and you had forgotten how beautiful he is up close. From his pellucid skin to his bloody dead irides. You feel a betraying shiver run down your back, remembering how his body felt all over yours. If you thought you could face him without any second thoughts, you were wrong. The hypnotic power he seemed to have on you hasn’t wavered the slightest. You could still run, but curiosity anchors you down.

When you enter, the vampire king is standing in the middle of this tiny darkroom, ominous. There’s a chair and a twin size bed in a corner as only furniture, and it smells of mould. Obviously, this isn’t his usual hang out spot. This is a misery chamber, you expected a secret office or something. This is closer to a dungeon than... Oh, turning to take another look at the door again, you notice the large silvery bars on a square framed window.

“What is this place?” Feeling stuffy and trapped all of a sudden, you take a step back.

“My dungeon, a secluded place. I thought it better to talk privately.” Jaebeom replies swiftly, like forcing you down here is perfectly mundane. His motives remain unclear, but you get what he means; walls here don't have ears. You already noted that. “We used it during the war, but I doubt Jackson remembers his old room and my leniency. If he did, that flea-bag wouldn’t go around doing as he pleases half as much.”

“He's my Alpha now, careful.” You cross your arms over your chest and he raises a brow.

“Forgive me,” Jaebeom apologizes, overly sarcastic, “I thought you only had his tail-wagger’ back.”

“Chan is a legacy Alpha,” you’re defensive at his evident disdain. “Won’t be tail-waggin’ forever.”

“Why do you care?!” Jaebeom snaps harshly, and his aggressive tone makes you flinch, “Defending him? Last I heard, you hated the dog for what he did to you!”

After that, you remain silent, too stunned. He is right, and you are still angry at Chan for taking your humanity. It’s just that… You've always cared deeply for him, and now whatever is said about him reflects on you. You’ve been inextricably linked since he marked you. It’s not something you can explain with words to an outsider. You just… Feel it in your bones. Jaebeom sighs, turning to press his open palms to one of the stone walls. “When you’re as old as me, you start to forget past enemies. I’ve seen a lot of werewolves go by, I never thought I should care about their bastards.” When you don't bite, the king presses you again: “I hadn’t made a mistake like that in many centuries.”

“A mistake like me,” you breathe out hollowly, starting to piece things together.

“Yes...” He shakes his head, still facing the wall. “I messed up by intervening in the woods. I single-handedly jeopardized the status of the peace treaty for you. Jinyoung formally castigated me in front of the Council.” The vampire from that night? You frown, vaguely remembering his cool demeanour throughout the confrontation with the Alpha. “I was sent away during the arraignments. I’ll be officially sanctioned tomorrow, I had never received blame from my Court before you. Not it over a thousand years of reign.”

He says it like this mess is all your fault. “Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to me, then.” You try not to sound affected. Despite you, his words hurt... And you really don’t want to wonder about why right now.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jaebeom blurts out fatally, turning to hold your gaze. “I wasn’t able to bring you home. I couldn't stay true to my word, and keep you safe.”

“Consider yourself freed from our deal, Jeonha.”

You need to leave now.

Before you’re overwhelmed before you feel like crying for everything you’ve lost. It’s not like the vampire could have changed anything anyway, or if he could have honoured that deal in the first place anyway. Apparently, a choice was made for you long before that dreadful day you were marked. When you reach for the exit, Jaebeom’s steel grip wraps around your wrists, holding you still. It was the worst idea coming in, perhaps he won’t let you leave. This was a dungeon for a wolf, and no one knows you're here.

“There’s another thing too.” He whispers, awfully closer. There’s the almost familiar coldness of his body on your back, and your heartbeat quickens, betraying. His effect is undeniable, his magnetism paralyzing. “I don’t care about what my Court said. I still wanted to see you.” His nose brushes your hair, and you know it’s making its way down to your neck. You’ve been there before, only this time, you are sure he won’t kill you. “You smell the same, you’re still more human than wolf.”

Jaebeom says this like it’s a compliment, and you shut your eyes. “So what?”

He presses his stone chest to your back, unbothered by your harsh tone. “My Shadow heard you ask about me… And I tried to neglect it, but I still have this…” He pauses then, and despite everything, the memory of your shared night haunts you. “... Craving.”

Blood, you realize. This is not about you at all. Defeated, you pull your hair aside to fully expose the little bit of collarbone your nightgown isn’t covering. He can do whatever, you won’t fight him this time, don't care if it hurts. Then he’ll probably let you go. Jaebeom lets his index run down your spine, and you clench your teeth, expecting his bite any moment.

“After you turn-.”

“I know.” You cut in sharply, eager to get this over with. His arm slides around your waist. “You hate dogs.” The vampire presses his lips on your neck, not on the same spot as last time. Again, instead of biting, he breathes you in, mouth wandering. This isn’t what you want, you shouldn’t do this. “Drink.” Frozen still, you don’t bother trying to sound like yourself.

“No,” Jaebeom hushes in your ear, absolutely shameless, “like last time.”

“I don’t want to,” you state, authoritative. The idea of betraying Chan like this makes your stomach turn. Even if you are angry, he’s still your friend and your… That. Then, there’s the rest of the pack too, and what they said about wolves with vampires. What Minho called you earlier.

“Is that so?” Jaebeom snorts, hand reaching to cup your sex over your nightgown. You catch a breath as he hums, satisfied by your reaction. “I can smell you.” Shit. You’re screwed. Already, your body is betraying you, and you press closer to his palm, craving friction. His hand doesn’t oblige though. Instead, he takes it back, letting it wander up until it finds the strings tying the collar of your long gown. You think he’ll open it, but he surprises you by spinning you in his arms. His grip closes on your wrists, holding them up. “You wear his clothes, but his scent isn't on you.”

You don’t need Jaebeom to say his name. “He comes back tomorrow.”

Something in his gaze darkens like you’ve made a mistake: “I know, I approve every dogs’ outing. Mark was right, he shouldn’t have made it so easy.” Smirking, Jaebeom releases you, apparently very amused by something. “Now that I know who you are for Jackson’s successor… I want you even more.”

‘W-What?” You don’t move, don’t even blink when his fingers slide up the interior of your thigh. This time, it’s skin to skin, under your loose clothing. He stops centimetres away from where your legs meet. “We can’t… My pack-”

Lowering himself to press a kiss on your lips, Jaebeom interrupts your protests. He doesn’t give you an answer, but you forget about everything as soon as his mouth opens yours. Your mind numbs. You forget you’re angry, forget the pack and everything about who the creature kissing you is. Even Chan is eclipsed from your thoughts for the first time in days. Jaebeom pulls back after a while, one hand to the wall and the other frozen still on your thigh.

“New deal,” he announces, voice-controlled. He’s doing way better than you. You're panting, hanging on his every word with apprehension. He's like a drug, clogging up your brain and stealing away your better judgement. “You owe me since I got into trouble trying to help you.”

“How should I repay you?” You ask in a trance. You sound more innocent than you truly are. It’s obvious what he wants, of course you know. You can feel him already hardening against you. Right now, you want him too. You don’t care about anything else.

“I forgot I have to show you everything, tidbit.” Jaebeom smiles, ruby eyes creasing. “Don’t move.” It’s not like you were planning on going anywhere anymore. You’re already too turned on to know what’s best. Sensing you’re obeying, Jaebeom kneels on the ground before you to roll up your gown. “See?” He looks up, pushing your feet apart with his knees. You seem to have learned from your first time because you don’t move to cover your sex. Jaebeom licks his lips, gaze roaming your exposed body hungrily. “I knew you were wet...”

His cold hands grip your knees to spread you and you lean back against the stone wall, weak. He hums, nose brushing your inner thighs. The vampire king kisses them one by one, making sure not to leave an inch of soft sensitive skin untouched as he climbs. If he claimed you were wet before, it was nothing. This time you know what to expect from him and you’re shivering from anticipation. Your folds are already swollen and glistening when he finally reaches his goal. Jaebeom doesn’t lose any time, icy tongue sliding up your slit once, then twice. You grip his shoulders to remain still and he lets out a hollow chuckle, entertained. His mouth works wonder, it’s even better standing like that above him. You pant, hips rocking on his face despite yourself. You don’t have any self-control whatsoever. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the imminent Full Moon or your exacerbate senses, but everything feels more intense; anger, impatience, and now pleasure, desire… Jaebeom helps himself with a finger, and it’s way more comfortable than last time. You’re so relaxed that he adds another one, pumping them leisurely into you.

Without stopping, he sits back on his heels, raising your right leg on his shoulder. Jaebeom presses kisses in your inner thigh, looking for something that he finds almost too soon. Unlike the other night, there’s no warning or build up before he bites you. His flaming eyes find yours when his fangs pierce your skin, and you yelp in surprise. Already blood drips, overflowing his mouth. Jaebeom sucks – entranced – he wasn’t too harsh this time. He cannot heal you with vampire blood, not when you’re lycanth. His fingers are still working your core, and the pleasure mixed with the burn is far from unpleasant. Your head hits the wall when you throw it back, pushing for more friction against his hand. He holds you still, sucking harsher on your thigh. His first bite is so shallow that your flow to the wound is already dwindling.

After a moment he gives up, he wants and needs more, but there are plenty of pretty veins on your body. Some are easier to conceal than others though that’s not what he wants at all. Not tonight. Not when you belong to the next Alpha. Jaebeom wants a statement, one that ensures the balance, retribution. The king hates being ridiculed, and they are far worst ways to send a message than this. At least you’re both going to enjoy yourselves tonight. He’ll make sure you get off, just like last time.

You don’t know that of course, but even then, could you have resisted him?

It’s your turn to take the lead when Jaebeom stops drinking from your thigh. You tug at his nape, forcing him up and interrupting his lapping of your wound. This time, you don’t mind the blood when your mouths meet.

Your new kiss tastes of metal, but it’s delicious.

Wild.

____

The East Wing is deserted when you emerge from the depth of the Castrum. It’s to be expected, to limit interactions between species and risk useless frictions, they are many specific rules. Werewolves aren’t allowed outside their sanctuary walls after sunset unless they have special permissions, so they usually limit themselves to their rooms. One night of freedom per month is granted of course; the Full Moon. No similar rule applies to vampires. It might seem unfair, but most can’t stand the sun and normally rest during the day anyway. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t bump into any other lycanth when you enter the common room and climb the stone stairs leading to the living quarters. Everyone is in bed, getting ready for tomorrow’s night hunt and celebrations of your first transformation.

Still, you are extra careful not to get caught when walking up the corridor, passing dozens of wooden doors along the way. You can hear the soft breathing of the sleeping wolves, but also the cracking pages of a book being read, and the scratching of graphite on paper. You furtively reach the door to your room, opening it and praying the hinges don’t betray you. They don’t.

Letting out a breath of relief, you enter. You allow yourself to make more noise once you are where you were assumed to be all along. Immediately, you stretch your sore body. Wow. That was something else entirely. You hadn’t realized Jaebeom was being so attentive on your first night. This time he was less considerate, not that you’re complaining. Smiling, you rub your thumb on the bite marks on your left wrist. You have many, you’ll have to conceal all of them tomorrow by wearing something like a long-sleeve linen shirt and pants.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the mass on your bed at all. It’s when he sits up that you gasp, so shocked you drop the hairbrush you had just picked up on the carpet. It bounces twice before rolling on the stone floor, the faint sounds seemingly resonating throughout the whole wing. Chan looks half-dead, as though he hasn’t slept ever since he last fought with you.

“Hello,” he says, voice alarmingly placid.

You feel yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze. “You’re back.”

He drops his chin to his chest like a prayer. “I came early since I was worried...” His words hit hard, and you feel the bitter sting of guilt in your chest. Somehow you spent the whole week waiting for his return... Now it’s too late, you messed up. “I missed you,” the wolf-man snorts, rolling his eyes back, “so much. I kept wondering how you were holding up without me. Laughable isn’t I?” When he looks your way again, the bite marks on your body itch like liabilities. “You seem to be doing perfectly fine.”

“Chan,” you breathe out unevenly, heart as heavy as the moon in your chest. Whatever bliss you felt from your escapade with Jaebeom is completely gone. This is why you tried to leave. It feels like you committed high treason. Perhaps you truly did, that's the scariest thought. You should tell him you didn't go to Jaebeom willingly, it just happened. Tell him you hadn’t thought of the king for days. Instead, you let out a series of incoherence; “It’s not… I’m-”

“You smell of death.” He points out, weirdly serene. You both know it means him. “I’m exhausted, y/n. Let’s not fight, let's just go to bed.”

“H-Here?” Your eyes round, staring at him under the covers.

“It’s our den, our bed.” Chan lays down again. “You can sleep elsewhere if you can’t stand me... You seem to have other options.”

Silence settles after that, you walk up to the empty side of the canopy bed, miserable. How could you leave, even if you wanted to? The mattress protests under your weight. Sitting guardedly, you keep an eye on the young man with his back turned on you. Chan doesn’t comment and as you lay over the covers. Your heartbeat is deafening.

You are so taken aback when he breaks his muteness after over ten minutes, that you wonder if you heard right; “I don’t want us to be like them.”

“Who?” You ask, turning on your side to face him.

“Them,” he repeats as though you are supposed to figure it out. He rolls too, but his eyes remain glued to the ceiling.

This whole situation is strangely reminiscent of these nights you talked for hours, both laying on your back, staring at stars. You often went on trips together with a hunting crew from Ianua and other villages. You and Chan used to discuss anything from your childhoods to dumb stuff. Of course, back then, you had no idea he was way older than he looked, perhaps even older than gran. You had no idea he wasn’t human at all. Come to think of it, you wonder how he managed all these trips and why. Was it just to be with you? Does ‘deceive your future mate under the false pretense of friendship’ qualify for outings permissions?

“Them; Jackson and Ryujin.” You stop your breathing altogether when Chan clarifies. Ryujin, as in the queen? Shit. You had forgotten all about her... “Lycanth, we are loyal to a fault, devoted by nature. We…” He glances your way, having at least the decency of being embarrassed by himself. “... Mate for life… With our one partner.”

But you aren’t listening to him. Your head is spinning, Jackson and Ryujin. What do they have to do with each other? Isn’t she wedded to Jaebeom? Although it’s quite obvious his vows don’t keep him from sleeping with whoever he wants, whenever.

Any of you take issues of my personal life? The Alpha and Minho’s cryptic words suddenly mean much more. Jackson has a mate, trust me.

“The parasites are nothing like us.” Chan goes on as you piece things together, sounding spiteful. “They take what they covet without hesitation, they use others for their means. They are ruth-”

“I get it.” You interrupt, fighting back your irritation. Ok, now you are done feeling bad for him. No one ever explains things to you clearly in this damn castle. You’re always expected to do what is asked and understand things later on. “You hate vampires.”

“No. You don’t get it, you aren't hearing me y/n.” Chan sighs and the sound is cavernous deep. He turns to you, serious. “Vampires don’t feel like mortals or werewolves. You can’t trust him, no matter how much intimacy you share, it doesn-”

“I understand that you like me, Chan.” You’re careful not to raise your voice when you cut him off again. The last thing you want is this to escalate in another full-on fight. “And I am so sorry you feel that way, but...” You stop yourself, reading the pain on his face.

“It is my business because you’re my m-... Best friend...” He whispers, winded as though he ran for miles. “You are bitter – rightfully so – and you need time… But I’m not gonna spend my whole life picking up the pieces after him. I won’t stand sharing you. I don’t want us to be like them, I can’t.”

Though you soften slightly, you turn away to avoid his gaze. You should tell Chan that you don’t think of Jaebeom half as much as you think of him when he isn’t near, but you can’t. You’re too ashamed and resentful, both at yourself and at him.

“Maybe you should have considered that before changing me.” It sounds too mean even to you. “You knew me, so you should’ve made the right choice.”

Again, the silence following is louder than words. It takes Chan less time to cut through the tension. When he does, you can tell he's been thinking deeply about this.

“I did consider...” He waits for a few heartbeats before going on, hopeful; “I know you and I’ll wait. I know us, I made the right choice. I’m sorry I brought this up.” Chan sounds so relieved that you can’t help wanting to believe him. “We will never be like them...” There's an infallible faith to his truth.

Even though you’re exhausted, even though tomorrow marks the beginning of your new life. You don’t sleep a wink that night, torn between two fates you neither wanted nor considered before these last two weeks.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

100 notes · View notes