#speaking of bags of onions lets not open this one right now especially in the tags “xD

[sentientstump]

i got silly, here's Somsnosa's greatest song about domiciles

[chiquititaosita]

♡˗ˏ☁️໒ brown is beautiful, Steve Harrington x latina reader (meeting)

♡˗ˏ☁️໒ post type: fic series

♡˗ˏ☁️໒ tbh i can’t believe I’m doing stranger things on this shit smh 🤦🏽‍♀️but im a sucker for this white boy. (And many more on my account on this app) please forgive me for my anime mutuals.

♡˗ˏ☁️໒ context: headcanons for Steve with a Latina s/o (female reader) takes place during and/or after season 4. HINTS OF INTERNALIZED RACISM (because we need to be aware of this shit) a little bit of angst, to fluff. Hispanic humor and slang en español, food descriptions, car terms

it’s another shift at family video. There steve is on the counter with his chocolate brown hair, fair skin wearing his vest and a black tshirt, a little silver or gold chain that was small but it was hidden a little bit under his shirt. Steve will be tired, exhausted, Annoyed. Done Just absolutely given up. because he wouldn’t know on what to do, trying to get over Nancy. literally robin is sick and tired of this shit. “You dingus, you realize why you haven’t been able to get over her right?” Robin crossed her arms wearing a black sweater with her eyes rolled up. And looking at her cell phone, it’s from her home girl y/n l/n name appeared to call.

“What do you mean?” Steve was already on the counter restocking some DVDs in the front, where the movie sale of La Bamba was being in stock almost selling out, since Keith wanted them to sell out soon.

“You go for only one type. Steve.” Steve listened carefully and had those two words “one type” replay in his mind that got him all dumb and stupid. Yes Steve in high school was a ladies man. Yet however all the girls noticed him going for the white girls. Thats when not many poc girls thought it was a joke for him to ask any girl who was poc. Steves widened and was at agape. Covering his mouth. Realizing that he’s been a huge douche bag to girls that are poc. Especially the Hispanics. “Hold that thought.” Robin was on the phone Answering to you.

“Hey home girl I’m coming by, i got your order ready.” You spoke with a smile on your face driving in a 1978 Chevy impala, modded to your liking, with hydraulics, and a v8 engine. Wearing a white tank top cropped, black zip up jacket, your hair all natural curls coming through, Nike Cortezes in white, big hoop earrings, black dickies pants, dark brown lip liner with a red lip mac lipstick on Russian red, just like the iconic Selena Quintanilla. Blasting some Spanish music of your choice.

“Oh great! Now you get to meet the suavecito i told you about.” Robin smiled through the phone, and Steve could hear you cackle, doing a bit of a loud laugh hearing some girl speak Spanish since his best friend put the girl on speaker.

“No mames Chingona!!! En serio? Eres un flaquito? Or what? Also pues, im five minutes away” Y/n was speaking Spanish. Robin was actually fluent in Spanish, surprisingly, when she had to order some food for breakfast, for the kids.

“Ah okay, claro see you chica” robin hung up and sighed. Chuckling lightly watching Steves moments of processing.

“what’s up with you?”robin looked over

“I just had an ephiphany….” Steve was walking to the register leaning against the counter facepalming, making that face of oh shit i fucked up.

“That is?” Steve was about to answer robins questions “well basically it’s that-“ until some loud music apparently the song te aprovechas was blasting outside. Parked into a near parking spot. Then not even a few seconds later, y/n was walking in with a beautiful smile that had lightened up the room immediately.

“Hola Chingona!!!” Y/n kicked the door open of the store walking to Robin giving a side hug, a little bit.

“Y/n wow you weren’t kidding that you’d be quick let me get these.” Robin smiled at her as she grabbed the box of pan dulce, and some carne asada tacos, brought that immediately smelled amazing with lettuce cheese ground beef, sour cream, cilantro, tomatoes, and grilled onions. “Aye no mama no I got you let me.” Y/n looked so happy and cheerful and gave in finally seeing the la bamba movie in stock!

“No mames! Cabrona! Yall have la bamba! Bro i love this movie!!!” She chuckled and smiled, picking it up, and putting it at the check out. Steve had what he originally was gonna say in the back of his head, then hearing that laugh of yours made him jolt and look at you every now and then.

“She maybe a challenge…, i think I can win her over.’

“Ahh so you’re suavecito! Eh!? You weren’t kidding Robin he el pelon es muy guapo.” Y/n giggled a bit as she was a sweetheart but a tóxica in disguise. “uhh yeah whatever that means but that yeah that’s me!” steve replied sheepishly as he’s trying to keep his composure well. “i’ll see you around, Steve!”

you say walking out and robin comes back looking at him. “okay you were saying about this epiphany.”

steve looked at robin, who steve has clearly rarely ever seen a latina before in hawkins. looking at her. “i think i might like latinas.” he’s got him in a look of smitten on his face. turns out he’ll won’t be the one thinking of you or in this case being steve dreaming of you.

[hereliesanotherfic]

MtP: Little Tease

Ship: Albert James Moriarty x Reader Show: Yuukoku No Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot) Rating: Pg 13?? Warnings: Teasing, flirting, suggestions Prompt: “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

______________________________________

You let out a soft yawn as you headed towards your living quarters in the manor, the Moriarty Manor to be exact. It was a long day of basic duties, but it never bothered you, quite the opposite- it was a pleasure working for the Moriarty men. William, Louis, and Albert were all incredibly generous, especially Albert. Over the couple years you have worked for them, he grew incredibly sweet towards you. He’d allow you lifts home in the carriage when out in the town, he’s aided you in the kitchen while you cooked or did the dishes, he allowed you some days off here and there just to rest. Not to say him or his brothers didn’t do this with other servants, but you and the other help noticed Albert did it most often for you.

But when he’s been alone with you, it’s been a bit more.

Moment One:

“Master Albert!” You exclaimed stepping out of the tailor shop, his carriage parked in front with him standing outside it.

“Hello (y/n),” he smiled softly. “I noticed you about town and wondered if you were finished? We could go home together,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as velvet. You choked down the frog in your throat, his choice of words made you sound more intimate with him in public which made your pulse race in embarrassment…or…excitement? Nevertheless, you nodded.

“That’d be nice! Thank you, kindly Master Albert!” You smiled, following his wave to come towards the carriage. The driver took your tailored dress and stowed it away and you stepped into the vehicle. Your heart bumped as you felt a light graze on your lower back as you hopped up. He was spotting you while you stepped inside, he probably didn’t mean to touch you. Albert stepped in after and took a seat besides you. It was a bit odd to sit next to him, but his presence was oddly comforting too.

“You know you do not have to call me Master, (y/n)” Albert spoke, his emerald eyes turning to contact yours.

“…I know you’ve said it before…though it feels too strange to say it while in town…”

“Do you think I have not noticed you still do not call me Albert at the manor as well?” You broke eye contact and bit your bottom lip, but he knew he got you before that. “I’d like to hear it.”

You slowly looked back up to him, confused by his request. “Wh-what?”

“ ‘Albert’,” he grinned slyly at you, closing the distance between you two a little bit. You heart started banging against your chest and you felt your cheeks flush a bit. The space in the carriage was small, the distance between you both was now small, and there was no way out from his eye contact. Albert tilted his head slightly. “Please?” Oh, he was absolutely trying to kill you with kindness (and your internal crush on him). You swallowed a bit heavy.

“…A-…Al..bert…” You said his name slowly, the foreign feeling of no honorifics was strange, but it also left a good tingly feeling on your tongue and in your heart. You saw his smile grow large and pure as he sat back into his seat properly.

“That made me happy, (y/n), thank you,” he said, staring out the window now. It took a moment for you to take your eyes off him. You didn’t think that’d make him so happy.

Moment Two:

“Preparing for our guests tonight (y/n?),” You glanced up from your cutting board to see Albert standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in his clean white button-up and blue slacks. For a moment, you wondered where his jacket was, but the way his shirt hugged his figure, you were glad it was missing. You looked back down to the pepper you were cutting before you mind and eyes began to wander too far.

“Yes sir, there’s a lot to do before they arrive.”

“Ah, then I am sure I can be of assistance!” He stepped to the closet and pulled on a fresh apron.

“Master Albert, you don’t have to worry yourself with that, I have plenty of time.” He stepped over next to you on your left side as he finished tying the apron, pulling over another cutting board that was on the table.

“It’s no worry, if anything I am sure this will be enjoyable to cook with you.” Albert picked a clean knife from the rack, so thankfully he missed your light blush. “What else do we need to chop?”

“Uh, some onions are next, they are on the right side of me under the counter,” you stated, motioning your head to the side. Albert nodded as he stepped behind you and leaned down to reach for the onions. Suddenly, you felt his large, left hand placed firmly on your waist, which caused you to feel his balance shimmy. To catch himself and pull himself straight up again, he pulled up directly into you, his chest flush against your back, hand still on your waist, the bag of onions in this other hand. You could feel his breath just ghosting over your neck and ear, it was so light but it was there. “A-Albert?!” You quietly exclaimed in the moment, staring in random spots on the table to try to gain some sanity.

“I’m sorry (y/n),” Your body tensed as his breathy words breezed over your ear—when did his face get that close?! “I slipped, I’ll be more careful,” he finished. With that, he stood besides you again and began chopping onions like nothing happened.

--

It was small events like that, but your heart was about to explode every time. So at this late hour, the last person you expected to see outside your living quarter was Albert Moriarty, standing beside your door.

“M-master Albert?” You questioned, gaining his attention, he looked up from his thoughts and smiled to you softly.

“(Y/n)…” He hummed. Albert’s eyes glanced you from head to toe, and very subtly licked his bottom lip. You missed both of those. “I’d like to have a word with you, but I figured you’d be tired from the long day, so it’s best to speak inside.”

“Oh…okay, yah, sure,” You nodded quickly and stepped over to the door to unlock it. You didn’t think there was anything else to do, but the idea of Albert in your room sent you down a roller coaster of emotions. He requested to speak with you privately in your room, you were a person of no place to say no, even with the Moriarty generosity. You pushed the door open and stepped aside for him to walk in. Albert looked around your room, simply decorated, the queen bed was nicely made, curtains open and a soft lilac candle burning on a small desk you had. Closing the door, you slowly walked up to him while he was observing. “What can I do for you Master Albert?”

“ ‘Al-bert’,” he looked down to you, an amused smile on his lips. You eyes widened for a moment before glancing away again.

“I..I can’t get use to it sir, you’re of a nobility family, I’m just here to serve you no matter the generosity you share. I still have to respect you.”

“Respect isn’t solely based on a title, I know well that you hold my brothers and I in high regards,” the brunette confirmed, turning to fully face you. “However, I really want you to call me by my name (y/n).” Your cheeks flushed a light pink, hoping that the light of the candle in the room and low moonlight weren’t enough for him to see. He was only two feet away though…

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” Your voice was hesitant, and he caught that. He let out a little chuckle.

“No, I understand how it will take some time to get use to that. I came for another reason.” You stared up at him, Albert was thriving on your full, undivided attention. He wanted your (e/c) to stare at him all the time, your voice to play its tune all the time, he had fallen for you a while ago, but you never seemed to notice the small attempts he made. Or, what he truly believes, was that the social hierarchy made you believe he couldn’t be attracted to someone ‘like you’. And the more he observed you, the more he knew he was right, and you were just afraid to openly fall for him. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Your heart immediately smashed against your chest at that request, and now you couldn’t stop your face from turning as red as a tomato. Did he really, I mean REALLY, just request to sleep in your room tonight? His green orbs continued to stare warmly at you, waiting for an answer. In truth, Albert was loving how red your cheeks were, how flustered such a simple request got you. He knew you liked him, but he wanted you to admit it for yourself and not be afraid of others stupid opinions.

“(Y/n?)?” Albert spoke, stepping slightly forward and tilting his head closer to you. The proximity snapped you out of it and you jumped back slightly.

“Ahh-hh,…um…isn’t there-..I mean…b-but there are…” Your brain tried to think of multiple reasons at once why he shouldn’t and scrambled them all out at the same time. Albert let out a small laugh.

“(Y/n), please relax. The guestrooms are taken by Moran and Fred right now, and I could never ask such a favor of another servant.” He stepped close to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and guide you to look at him. “You and I know each other well, you’ve worked here long. We trust each other. I’d prefer to share a room with someone like you.” His free hand reached up and brushed the hair away from your face as you stared at him in awe and disbelief. That hand joined in cupping you free cheek as the distance between you two grew smaller.

“Please?” Albert spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes half lidded as he stared into yours. You could feel his breath on your face as the gap got smaller. You internally panicked. Wherever this was going it couldn’t be good. It just couldn’t—he was a noble, the head of the Moriarty family! Sharing a room, no honorifics, aiding you, it couldn’t mean anything good for you. You had to cut it off…move…MOVE DAMMIT!

The voices screaming in your head all stopped the moment you felt his lips press to yours. Albert’s lips were incredibly soft, his fingers grazing your cheeks as he held you gently. It was light against you, his lips nicely encasing your top lip. He barely separated your lips as he turned his head slightly to the other side and kissed your bottom lip with a bit more firmness. The cologne he was wearing was aiding your high, it let out scents of soft sandalwood, some amber and something in it gave it a bit of a musky scent. For a kiss that only lasted under a minute, it felt like 10 years just went by before he pulled his lips off, hovering from your face at only two inches. It was then you realized you closed your eyes, because opening them to see Albert smiling softly sent you to heaven.

“Albert…” you barely whispered, staring at him in awe. The fact that he kissed you and broke so many social standings (again). Albert’s smile changed into this larger grin.

“You said it,” he gleamed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb, glancing at your lips thinking when to go back in for more. But he wanted to give you time to understand he was sincere.

“S-said what?”

“My name…” He rested his forehead against yours, staring lovingly into your (e/c) orbs. “I care too much about you to let something as trivial as social status stop me from telling you. And I am happy I was able to show you too.” You noticed Albert’s cheeks were dusty pink which made you smile a bit and giggle. “What?” He chuckled lowly.

“Nothing…” You muttered, glancing down at your feet. You would have never believed it if anyone else told you Albert cared for you. You still weren’t one hundred percent sure to believe it. But because of your strong love for him, you couldn’t fake the happiness you felt from his words. He was scaring away your insecurities and fears one action at a time. One word at time.

“Cute,” he hummed and kissed your forehead. “You can go change and prepare for bed, I’ll wait for you.” You felt one of his hands hold your own, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand.

“Okay...but this stays between us for now and you leave before the others wake,” you stated, your cheeks still a bit pink from the kiss and confession. If he was truly to stay with you the night, you were worried about the rumors that could spread, but so long as he left before other servants woke, you figured it’d be fine.

“Of course, my darling,” Albert nodded and watched you turn to head towards the ladies room. He had been in his robe and prepared to sleep well before he arrived at your room, so all he had to was wait. When you returned out of your bathroom, Albert had already made himself comfortable in your bed, the sheets covering half of him and pulled open ready for you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, you never thought you’d be sleeping with Albert, literally. You took a quiet, deep breath and walked over to the bed and set yourself into it, pulling the covers over you, blowing out the night candle right after. He began to lower into the bed and sheets and you followed in motion. Before you got too comfortable he spoke to you. “Good night, (y/n),” Albert’s voice hummed right next to you, causing a tingly feeling in your body.

“..Good night...Albert,” you replied softly, cheeks flushing and quickly turned on your side, your back facing him. You heard him chuckle and felt the bed shift as he got comfortable too. And when you woke up, you found his arms wrapped around your waist, your back to his chest and his soft breathing in your messy bed head hair. It was so comfortable...it was worth the risk of getting caught.

__________________________________ A/N: I had fun writing this, these gentlemen are adorable to write for! I’m just getting random inspiration off prompts right now, but if you have any ideas I may certainly write them too!

[trblhyuns]

imagine us. (pt.1 and we were eating)

pairing// hyunjin-reader main  &&lil chan-reader for a little

tws// use of drugs and alcohol, suggestive scenes, hyunjin can be a dick sometimes and it hurts

— lighthearted

prologue / masterlist / pt.2

pt.1 wc: 1989

his cologne caught my nose. it smells just like the one i had got for my little brother this past christmas. when my brother wore it it smelt nice, and i liked the undernotes but on him, it just smelt weird. but now i could smell the same undertone and it was pleasingly sweet, but mostly smelled like dude. not like locker room dude but like shaves his face with a straight razor, changes his own oil, shops at nordstrom rack dude. my brother said he wanted it because he saw it in some pickup artist video saying that it was the best scent to get girls. i wonder if he got it because of that video too. not saying that if i smelled it on my brother that i would find him attractive too. ew. i know that scents change depending on the person who is wearing them. but the smell, or more likely the aura radiating off this guy is making my head turn.

i can only catch a glimpse of the head of hair on this guy. blonde and long. like the barbies i used to play with my elementary school when i would spend the night. i want to see more of him. his smell is luring me in. i feel like a dog looking for a treat that it hid months ago.

"why do you keep looking at the booth behind you" jisung looks into me, using scissors to cut the sizzling pork belly into small pieces. i fold into myself watching the pieces fall onto the round charcoal grill between us. "you're so weird." he shakes his head before going back to grilling the meat.

"okay try to see past all the smell of the expensive meat, which i am paying for, may remind you before you call me weird. but you smell that?" he looks at me while squinting his eyes, slowly he puts down the tongs and scissors. his fingers stroke his chin and within a few moments his features scrunch up.

"yeah i smell that. oh my god."

"really? i thought i was crazy." relief falls over me. i'm not the only one who can smell it.

"yeah it smells so fucking bad, it's like there is a y/n here stinking the whole restaurant up. yeah, i don't think i can eat anymore" he drops his hands on the table. my eyes droop. i look up at him from hooded lids, trying to put on the most deadpan face i can.

"yeah, i think you're paying now buddy."

"but y/n~~~ i was like um just playing, but for real it smells like dude. you know when you come to the studio with me and the middle schoolers leave because the youth classes end. yeah, yeah. like when the youth classes end. onions and axe." i chuckle at his response before grabbing a piece of the now grilled pork belly off the grill and putting it on my plate. i can not express how excited i am to eat this pork belly. it distracts me enough from what we were talking about before, and as i am ready to bring the food up to my mouth i am soon more distracted by the sound of the tall man scooting out from the booth behind me, napkin clad in hand making his way over to the buffet, probably to get more sides.

"jisung do you need more sides?"

"no, i need more front."

"what?" i looked at him puzzled trying to figure out what he means.

"i need to see the front of that guy who smells like onions and axe, was that what you were trying to look at in the booth behind you. because i'm going to let you know right now, just by looking at the back of onion and axe guy you have no chance."

i stare at him again.

"bitch what the fuck." jisung puts his hand up to his forehead, which i just flicked. "again, i was just joking gotdamn. if you want to talk to him this is your chance i guess. i want more radish now be nice and go get me some since you just flicked me." i roll my eyes still staring while my eyes close into a tight glare shooting at him. i look over at the buffet, and he is nowhere to be seen. usually, by now i would have kicked jisung under the table for being so mean, but he was right. this was a good time to go see what this guy was all about. and, i want to smell him. as appetizing as this porkbelly smells, and how much i was craving to eat it, he smells more delicious. but jisung's words play in my head again onions and axe. it makes me chuckle.

i get up and make my way towards the buffet. it's the dinner rush, and since this was the only good bbq spot in the town at the moment, i have to dodge busy servers, and the sound of conversations, and maybe even a fighting couple pass by me as i make my way over.

trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, i try to look around me taking in the surroundings of the restaurant, but trying to spot the full head of blonde hair. i put the plastic gloves over my hands, grabbing a plate from under the food, and then mindlessly— and may i add very slowly— put things onto the plate. i see him a bit of the way over just staring at the meat fridge. the blonde hair pulls me in and i'm about to make my move before i feel a sting on my face. quickly i wipe my hand over my face trying to scratch before i realize i now have the residue of whatever was on my gloves, but what's even worse i don't have my mask on. the blood rushes to my face as i quickly make my way back to the booth where jisung is waiting for me.

"dude you didn't even get any radish." he looks at me, looking like he is trying to hold back his laughter as he throws a napkin at my face.

"do you think he saw me, oh my god, what if he did, he probably thinks i'm some freak anti-masker trying to spread my germs to everyone."

"i mean i would." jisung retorts at me.

"you're such a dick" i throw my crumpled-up napkin back at him.

"yeah but who begged me to come out to eat with her, and who made me cancel my studio time just because little y/n can't grill food by herself, and can't stand the thought of eating out alone." his pout becomes deeper with each word he says, and his voice becomes squeaker at the same rate.

"yeah but who gets to eat for free?" i imitate him. this makes him purse his lips, a playful look on his face as he goes back to eating the sides i brought back from the buffet. he looks around before eyeing the direction of the buffet.

"yoooo YOOOOOOOO y/n y/n y/n. i know that guy." he has a surprised look on his face, but not hiding the fact that he is a little excited. like a little lab dog. i open my eyes wide, ready to hear how i can get closer to him. "i've seen him at the studio before. you know that guy chan i have been trying to get you to bang so i can live vicariously through you, yeah i think he is friends with him."

"first of all, i don't know why you keep trying to live vicariously through me. especially since the situation is me having sex with chan. because you are like. straight. but maybe i should hit up chan now haha." i play with the straw that's sitting in my water cup while jisung pulls out his phone, scrolling through. he looked so focused, a look i only see when he is trying to mix a new track, or while he stares at himself in the mirror while dancing. i wait there for a while, distributing the rest of the cooked meat between us. before i can start to eat jisung shoves his phone in my face.

"okay i got his snapchat and apparently he is here with this girl as you can see by the story i am showing you right now." that was quick, but expected from jisung.

i take his phone out of his hands, holding it closer to my face so i can read the caption better. remembering that they are in the booth behind us, i remember to lower my voice before i speak.

"okay first of all who comes to a bbq place and orders off the kitchen menu. and do you think they are dating, like is the emoji meant to be about her or the food, and do you think she is eating the food he is grilling, or do you think she is the type to eat salads on dates to seem more feminine." i start to ramble, obviously jealous over a girl i don't know over a guy i don't know. things have been dry for me lately. school has taken over my life. occasionally i will go out to the club, or the rare party, but being friends with jisung who doesn't get out as much as he used to, i just have never have an excuse to go out and meet more people. this is the action and drama i need in my life right now.

"okay, first of all, y/n you said a lot, and it is a lot to unpack. and i don't know if you know her and have some grudge or sum, but i think you are just reading too much into it." and he's right. i have only seen this guy's face like once, and maybe got a good whiff of him, but i feel like i'm going crazy for no reason. oh my god, i am so deprived of any interaction with anyone.

"let's just forget about it and get the bill. he has a girl so my window has closed." jisung nods in approval and goes to finishing his food. we continue to make small talk and joke around. the server comes to the table black book in hand. i put my card in and wait for him to come back with the reciept.

"wait y/n your tipping too right."

"oh my god jisung, just how broke are you?"

"i'm not broke i'm just trying to save up for these nice ass headphones and i just wanted to ask you to break our little you pay and i tip streak so i can keep a little extra cash so i can hear porn in HD audio."

"okay, okay, just stop talking, gosh. what is up with you today." the server comes back and i scribble in the tip and total before looking at jisung signaling to him to get up.

"nothin.'' he smiles at me as he scoots out from the booth grabbing his bag. "so now that you know that pretty guy isn't available will you FINALLY hit up chan. he has been asking about you." we are walking out of the restaurant now. standing out on the side walk beside the main road. there is traffic tonight downtown, like always. the older people are making their way out of the restaurants, and closing their tabs at bars. the bouncers are going to come out soon, ready to take only the obviously fake ids, and i can imagine a few hours from now the barely dressed girls on the backs of guys they met dancing stumbling down the concrete, or the older college kids playing pool instead of getting wasted.

"i guess now i will."

[e-milieeee]

four ways to say i love you

Summary: It’s the little things—such as waking up at five in the morning to cook for him or lending her a coat when she’s cold—that mean the world. 

Because Marinette loves her partner very, very much, and she’s so lucky that he feels the same. 

Notes: I was initially going to do one side of the lovesquare, but all sides are equal and therefore have all four sides in this oneshot :) Post reveal, established relationship. A commissioned piece for @mlbforblm—there’s plenty of talented artists and writers who still have slots, so make sure to commission! 

Or read on AO3

Adrien is brushing his teeth when Ladybug comes crashing through his window.

He’s a little later than usual today, still decked in his Ladybug pajamas that he’s so unashamedly  proud of. He has tied his bangs back with an elastic band, and it sits like a little tree on top of his head, water still dripping from his face.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be ready to eat breakfast,” she tsks playfully.

He grins back. “Sorry, M’lady. Plagg turned my alarm off.”

His smile is, as usual, contagious and in a way that can’t help but to smile back. Ladybug returns to his room and takes out the box from her bag, where she’d painstakingly prepared breakfast for him at the expense of a shattered bowl and spilled jug of milk. It’s still warm to the touch, thankfully, and her slightly rough landing in his room hadn’t messed it up too much.

Adrien joins her a couple minutes later. He has taken the hair tie out, but his bangs fall softly over his eyes like it does when he’s Chat Noir, and Ladybug wants to run her hands over it so to feel just how soft it is. She refrains herself, though, as they both settle cross-legged on the ground where she has laid their breakfast out.

His mouth drops open. “Wow,” Adrien marvels. “When you said you were going to make a feast, I thought you’d fry an egg or two and slap it between some bread and that would’ve been it. This is… can you describe food as gorgeous? Because this is gorgeous.”

“Just because that’s the only thing you can cook doesn’t mean it’s all I’m capable of,” she sniffs, but underneath, Ladybug preens at the compliment.

It’d taken a lot of effort, and Ladybug had collected the ingredients the day before and planned every single detail before going to bed. Then, at five in the morning, she dragged herself out of bed looking and feeling like a zombie just to prepare it.

There are four egg rolls drizzled with homemade sauce, then sprinkled with dried seaweed and sesame. Next to that are neat cuts of green onion cake, made from absolute scratch (she burned herself in the process of deep-frying them). Inside the longest container are fried fish, the ones her mother had prepared the night before. Finally, the leftover mooncakes from the Lunar Festival are in the little box, tied with a red bow. Marinette had spent careful care on that one.

“Miso soup,” Ladybug tells him as she hands him the thermos. “Uh… I think I added too much paste and it’s too salty, so you might not want to drink that one. And…” She opens the last box, where a variety of fresh-cut fruit awaits. “For health reasons, there are fruits. Oh! Also a cheese platter for Plagg, but he’s still asleep, so he can have it later.”

Adrien is positively beaming when she unpacks everything. “You’re the absolute best,” he gushes.

“Couldn’t have you starving on your diet, right?” The nonchalant act can only go so far when she’s grinning so wide. “I’m just hoping it tastes as good as it looks.”

“It’ll taste good just because you made it.” He throws her an exaggerated wink, then immediately reaches for his chopsticks to dig in.

Ladybug watches him take a bite out of green onion cake. He chews, swallows, eyes lighting up. “This is amazing, and I promise I’m not just saying that because my diet’s forced me to eat boiled chicken breasts with no seasoning of the past week.”

She giggles. “Just let me know when you want me to bring you breakfast.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I can’t believe Ladybug’s my personal delivery girl. Do you offer lunch services as well?”

“Only for you, kitty.”

His grin is worth getting up for at 5am.

***

Marinette is freezing at lunch break, but they’ve agreed to eat outside, so she sucks it up. At least the lunch she’d packed for her and Adrien is warm.

It’s late autumn now, and the last couple of leaves cling to otherwise bare trees. She regrets the outfit she picked—cute, but not practical. Especially not in this weather. Looking at Alya bundled up in a hoodie and combat boots, Marinette really regrets the dress.

The noodles in the thermoses are slightly soggy, but the flavour is still there. They chat for a while—about upcoming tests, about projects and the end-of-the-year field trip that is still months away, and everything is lovely. Lovely, but cold.

Halfway through, her noodles emptied, Adrien notices her shivering. “Are you cold?” he asks, eyes growing wide in concern.

Alya halts her conversation with Nino as well. “Wait, Adrien’s right, you’re wearing a dress. I’m chilly and I have a sweater on.”

Marinette, who has refrained from speaking for the past couple of minutes in fear of her teeth chattering too loudly, manages to shake her head.

She gets a scrutinizing look-over by Adrien before he makes his verdict. “This isn’t going to do,” he declares firmly. Then, with one fluid movement, he shrugs his own sweater off and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh, he’s smooth,” Alya remarks with a wicked grin.

Smooth, indeed. The jacket is wonderfully warm, and, with a content sigh, Marinette slides her arms through the sleeves. There’s also the faint smell of his cologne and it’s so very him that she can’t help the smile that crosses her face.

He opens an arm in a beckoning gesture and Marinette happily settles into his embrace.

***

Because of his father’s strict rules, it’s much easier for Adrien to come by as Chat Noir after school, which he does almost everyday. Sometimes it’s between his schedules, sometimes it’s after, late into the night when both his father and Nathalie believe he’s asleep. Marinette always listens for the thump on the skylight, an indication that he’s there. The trap door is always left unlocked for him, so she only needs to wait as he climbs down the ladder.

It’s nearing nine when he comes this time. She sits at her desk finishing up the rest of the notes when the door creaks open and Chat Noir climbs down.

“Evening,” he greets. “What—ooh, you brought croissants for me.”

He zeroes in immediately on the food that Marinette had, admittedly, prepared for him. Between Adrien’s schedule and that godawful diet his father insisted putting him on and his time sprinting across rooftops and fighting akumas, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t fainted from lack of nutrition. Marinette has made it her personal goal to make sure he’s properly fed, and she ensures there’s a snack waiting for him every time he drops by.

Half a minute later, he’s munching enthusiastically on the food and Marinette can no longer focus on the rest of her notes. She sorts them out—there’s at least four pages that she’d copied in her neatest handwriting—and then hands them to Chat.

“Here,” she tells him. “You missed both physics and mathematics today because of the photoshoot, so I copied the notes from class and re-organized them. I also added a review section from last class so it’s easier to figure out just where we are since the two lessons are connected. And…” She shuffles through her desk once more, producing the textbook. “It’s on page one hundred and twenty seven to one hundred and twenty nine, if my notes don’t make sense. You can study here, if you’d like. My parents won’t be coming back up anyway, so we should be left alone for now.”

The last time her mother had walked in on her and Chat doing homework together, she’d been understanding. Understanding, but skeptical. It had been awfully hard to explain why Paris’ superhero was lounging in her room like he lived there—and much harder more awkward to explain that Adrien was one hundred supportive of her friendship with Chat after her father had become defensive that he had ulterior motives.

Chat takes the papers from her. “You’re absolutely unbelievable,” he tells her, eyes shining in a way only his can. “Seriously, Marinette, have I ever told you?”

She pretends to count on her fingers. “Let’s see… only about six times today. Why? He shakes his head, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. In one fluid movement, he leans down to pluck the textbook from her hands and plants a quick kiss against her cheek in the process. “What would I do without you?”

“Go hungry, probably? Start lagging behind in all of your classes?” Marinette tsks at him. “God, you’re right. What would you do without me?”

Chat’s laugh is wonderful and full and happy. “Then aren’t I lucky to have you.”

***

The akuma strikes at midnight.

Marinette, about to change into her pajamas after just sending off Chat Noir, curses to herself. She’s tired and not in the mood to transform, but when Chat comes crashing back down from the skylight urgently, she knows she has no choice.

“Akuma!” he informs her, as if the tremors outside could be caused by anything else. “It’s close to here. We should be able to take this one quickly.”

“Why is Hawkmoth even awake?” Marinette grumbles, but transforms nonetheless. Chat waits patiently on the side, though he’s drawn taut, prepared to scramble into action the moment she’s ready. Then they’re climbing out of the skylight, into the light, where the akuma has begun its rampage. The once-quiet night is ripped apart with panic and terror.

The akuma is relatively easy to deal with: a little girl, apparently inspired by Frozen, is decked in full Elsa, wielding similar powers. She covers the streets in ice, a snowstorm whirling around her, as spirals of icy sculptures rise and fall.

Both she and Chat have icicles hanging off them by the time Ladybug purifies the akuma. Even after she releases the Miraculous Ladybug, the cold from the girl’s powers haven’t seeped out of her bones. Judging from Chat’s chattering teeth, he feels the same.

Despite her watch reading 12:32 and the next day hailing as a school day , they stop by at a 24-hour-cafe for hot chocolate. A couple minutes later, seated on the rooftops warming their chilled hands, they’re huddled against each other and staring out at the gleaming cityscape.

“Another successful take-down, m’lady?”

Ladybug laughs as he raises his cup for a toast, and she obliges and bumps her own against him. Hot chocolate sloshes over the lid, splashing onto her suit. She flicks it off. “What a team we make, huh? Now, if only Hawkmoth would get the memo and stop creating his akumas so late. Why is he even up now? Say, do you think he has a life outside of being Hawkmoth?”

“He probably wants to catch us off guard in the middle of the night. Remember that one time we got woken up at three because there was an akuma attack? Plagg wanted to tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t transform.”  

Ladybug groans. “I did really bad on a test the next day because I got three and a half hours of sleep—I fell asleep halfway through the test! It’s— ugh. He’s so annoying.”

“There’s one good thing about midnight akumas, though,” Chat points out.

She takes a sip from the hot chocolate, which, during their conversation, has cooled down to just below scalding. “A good thing?” Ladybug echoes. “Name one good thing, chaton.”  

He nudges her shoulder. “You, m’lady. It’s nice just being alone like this without anyone else, right?”

Then, like he’s said nothing out of the ordinary, Chat goes back to drinking his hot chocolate with infuriating nonchalance.

Ladybug finds herself smiling. “You know,” she tells Chat Noir. “You’re ridiculously good at this. Where do you even get the inspiration to say these things?”

“You.”

“You are completely overdoing it.”

“You love me, admit that.”

“No.”

“So you would get up at five in the morning to make breakfast for just anyone, Bugaboo?”

Ladybug relents. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Chat Noir’s laugh rings crystal clear throughout the night, loud against the crisp air. Ladybug wants to trap that laugh and hold it close to herself. She can’t help but treasure it, after all: it’s a sound that chases away worries, soothes fears, and she thinks she's so, so lucky to hear it everyday.  

“I love you,” he tells her when his laughter dies down. “Don’t forget that, m’lady.”

Ladybug leans her head on her shoulder. “I love you too,” she replies quietly. “You better not forget it, either.”

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[ve1vetyoongi]

better with you | ksj - 01

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Genre: fake dating/arranged marriage!au, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 19k

Summary: A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, spanking, semi-public sex.

A/N: uwu hello and welcome to the first chapter of better with you, part of the paradise series! i hope you enjoy reading these characters as much as i enjoyed writing them because they’re some of my favourites 🥺💘 p.s. im honestly not happy with the pacing of this chapter, but i really wanted to share, so bare with me if it sucks!

Paradise Resort and the people in it are nothing like how you imagined them to be.

Sure, Paradise is a picturesque gated community with sparkling lake views surrounded by pear trees and sprawling green lawns and white stone fountains like the website described. And sure, everyone here drives foreign cars and loiters by the pool on weekdays and drinks bubbly for breakfast from fine China beneath chandeliers which glisten in the morning sun.

But you quickly realise there is something off; something that doesn't quite fit the expectations you had when you arrived here at the start of the summer, wide eyed and excited.

And that something is you.

You aren't one of the balding golfers leisurely steering carts across the perfectly pruned Paradise grass, flirting unashamedly with pretty young women in tennis skirts as they pass. And you aren't one of their wives, leaving lipstick stains on crystal wine glasses in wicker chairs on balconies as they giggle over finger food and afternoon tea and ignorance of their husband's infidelities.

And you certainly aren't the type of girl to spend her summer's horseback riding or wielding badminton bats or sipping copious amounts of white wine, paid for a la daddy's credit card.

No, because you are a culinary major. Nothing more nothing less. And lucky for you, Paradise was hiring - at least for the summer, anyway, and who better to work overtime in the kitchens at the expense of rich dudes other than broke students, right?

While most people came to Paradise to unwind and celebrate another year of prosperity, it was simply your job to watch from the kitchen window, grit your teeth and save enough cash to put towards opening your own restaurant back home.

Which is exactly how you find yourself slaving away over a plate of scallop sashimi on the stickiest day of August as the kitchen gets ready for the biggest event in Resort history — at least according to your fellow summer employee and designated dish washer duty-man Park Jimin, who seemed to be a constant fountain of gossip -- a trait which you secretly liked him for, despite feigning disinterest in his tittle-tattle.

"Do these people even know what good food is?" You frown at an underwhelmingly small plate of goat cheese salad as you wipe the edge of the plate with a cloth. "They can't seriously want to eat this. Don't they ever just, like, want a burger or something?"

"You're just noticing this place is bonkers?" Jimin snickers behind you, hoisting his weight onto the counter and pulling a grimace of his own when he lay eyes on the limp pile of lettuce leaves they dare to refer to as a meal here. "I saw someone order dessert for breakfast yesterday. Rich people have no rules, Y/N. Besides, it's not like we can serve burgers once Mr Kim arrives."

"Mr Kim?" You ask curiously. "Who's that?"

Jimin's eyebrows furrow, like he can't actually believe you're asking him such a question. Ever since you got here at the beginning of the summer he's been diligently keeping you up to date with the latest Paradise gossip, so you aren't sure why he's surprised you're as out of the loop as ever.

"Mr Kim. The founder of Paradise’s son?" You shrug, blinking at him cluelessly and Jimin shakes his head with a pained expression, lowering his voice like he's utterly appalled at your ignorance. "You haven't heard anything about the guy who is gonna take over this place once his father retires? Kim Seokjin?"

Ah, so that's who the infamous Seokjin is. His name has been buzzing through the kitchen for the last week, much to your confusion, and apparently he would be dining in the restaurant tonight.

You heard the senior chef's were working over time to perfect the cherry clafoutis he personally requested (despite not being an on-the-menu dish) and his impending inheritance of his father's dynasty seemed a topic of hot gossip, spreading in hushed whispers from the bar girls out front to the janitor, everyone seemingly desperate to get a glimpse at the Kim Seokjin. Meaning there are only two possible reasons as to why: he is rich or he is filthy rich.

"So what's the big deal with this guy. Is he some sort of celebrity or something?" You nudge Jimin in the ribs as you return to your station and start to sauté a fresh batch of onions. 

"Nah, just filthy rich." Jimin indulges and you nod. Just as I thought. "And goddamn hot if I should say so myself." He adds, returning to his dish washing station with a sigh, wrinkling his nose when his hands plunge into the soapy suds.

"Still, I don't see why I need to work over time for him." You grumble. The clock had chimed five o clock ten minutes ago and usually you'd be on your way to have a shower and shampoo the smell of grease and garlic out of your hair but instead you were still on the clock, orders lining up for you to prepare and stat. "What’s so special about him dropping by for dinner. Everyone here is rich."

"Well I was talking to one of the big guys," Jimin nods towards the senior chefs. "And apparently his parents have been trying to get him to marry his girlfriend for, like, ever." Jimin's voice dips to a whisper. "But get this. He broke up with his girlfriend last week when his parents suggested they get married!"

You narrow your eyes. "Right. So I'm working over time because some rich dude decided to throw his toys out of the stroller?"

Jimin rips off his pink rubber gloves and shakes you by the shoulders, like he’s trying to knock some sense into you. "Just shut up for a second would you? We're working overtime because his parent's have set him up on a date!"

You slap a hand over mouth, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "Not a date!"

"I know right!" Jimin shakes his head as if this is the scandal of the century, not quite sharing your sarcasm. "Can you believe it?"

"Is he talking about Kim Seokjin, again?" Jungkook, one of the summer buss boys, emerges from the restaurant through the double doors in his familiar black uniform. Jimin quickly smoothes down his hair, mentally chastising himself when soap suds coat his blonde locks, face burning as red as the tomatoes you chop beside him. It's common knowledge that Jimin has the biggest, all consuming crush on the oblivious chestnut haired waiter who flashes you an ever cheeky bunny smile now as he scoops up the dish you prepared onto the tray balanced on his forearm. 

He shoots Jimin an eye roll. "All he talks about is Kim Seokjin this, Kim Seokjin that." Jungkook shrugs. "I really don't see what the big deal is about this guy."

Jimin crosses his arms sulkily and you have to stifle a laugh at the pair. "The big deal is that this date has to go well - no, perfect - because Seokjin needs to marry someone "parent approved" or else his father will reject him as the heir of his dynasty."

You want to ask him about his impressive eavesdropping abilities but you have to admit, this is pretty big news - especially around here where the latest hot gossip was Han Seojin's husband's gambling problem when he hit up the casino after a few too many brandy's.

"So basically, the fate of the resort lies in his hands tonight." Jimin adds excitedly as he slams the dishwasher closed with a triumphant grin.

You roll your eyes. That is surely a bit dramatic. The guy was probably too blinded by the riches he would be inheriting to care about the poor girl he was getting hitched too. "You're invested in this, huh?"

Jimin nods eagerly. "Like I said. He's hot. Like sex on legs hot."

If you weren't watching carefully you may have missed Jungkook's eyes narrowing slightly or the way he tenses and puffs out his chest. "Pfft. He is not."

"So is!" Jimin pouts. "You're just jealous you're not as inhumanely gorgeous as he is." Jungkook raises a brow and Jimin rushes to smooth over his words. "Not that you're not gorgeous! No, that's not what I mean—"

The awkward moment is interrupted by the sound of a ladle banging against a frying pan, and you let out a groan when you hear the unmistakable yell of the head chef. "Attention everyone!"

"Speaking of crazy people." Jimin mutters with a roll of his eyes, rolling up his uniform sleeves and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as all the employees gather in the centre of the kitchen. "Looks like Hoseok got out of the wrong side of bed again."

You stifle a giggle when you find that Jimin is in fact correct, head chef Hoseok rounding the corner with an ever serious expression on his face. He has always been the stern type, mouth constantly fixed in a permanent frown as he criticises your dicing skills or catches you burning another steak, but you can see by the bluish bags under his eyes and the furrowed lines etched into his forehead that he means business today and a hush quickly falls over the kitchen apart from the gentle hiss of frying onions.

"As you all know, today is a big day for Paradise." He begins. "Each and every one of our future's here as employees depends on it. Mr. Kim has chosen us to cater for his dinner date and I need each and every one of you to do everything you can to make sure it goes smoothly. Capeesh?"

Dang. Is head chef Hoseok himself nervous? He's usually irritatingly confident in his cooking abilities. Maybe this was more serious than you thought...

"I'm counting on you guys to prove our worth, you hear me? It's already an honour that he picked us to host such an important event, and if we fumble who d'ya think he's gonna fire first once he takes over as CEO?" Hoseok interrupts your train of thought, waving a wooden spoon now like he's conducting an orchestra. "Which is why I expect zero funny business. I'm looking at you Jeon Jungkook! Now scram, we have customers to feed."

A unanimous groan fills the room as everyone gets back to work, and the kitchen falls into a state of turmoil as the clock ticks away, Seokjin due to arrive in a few hours and you haven’t even started on his appetizer yet.

"This better be worth it." You grumble to yourself, suppressing a smile when Jungkook bounds like a Labrador puppy into the restaurant fit  with an armful of salads yelling "Rabbit food coming up, y'all!", despite the stern look Hoseok sends his way.

You turn to Jimin, rolling your eyes at the hearts in his eyes for Jungkook as he strains his neck to get a glimpse of the chestnut haired boy's ass through the kitchen's window. He blushes when he notices you looking, but not before he’s flashing you a grin.

"Just wait until you see him," Jimin calls cheekily as you rush to the stove you had abandoned earlier. "Then you'll be glad you worked over time."

As it turns out, you are not glad you worked overtime. Kim Seokjin is late. Unfashionably late. So late that you are considering eating the dish you slaved over for nearly an hour to perfect to his preferences only for him to let it go limp and cold.

At least you could add another trait to the list of what you now know about Kim Seokjin: filthy rich, (allegedy) goddamn hot, heir to the resort and most importantly douche bag who can't make it on time to the first date with his future wife.

To make matters worse, the level of unrest in the kitchens is unlike anything you have ever seen before as everyone nervously awaits his arrival. Jungkook has been out front to polish the wine glasses at the private table he set up and lovingly adorned with candles and a bottle of iced champagne of the expensive kind because it would "create sexy vibes" more times than you can count. Hoseok took extra care with the placement of the parsley on top of the steaks he grilled and you even saw Jimin fixing his hair in the reflection of a shiny pan.

When the clock ticked over to eight, everyone had gathered around the small kitchen window, eyes beadily trained to the door. 

"He'll be here any minute now, I can feel it." Jimin whispers as he sidles up beside you, practically vibrating. His excitement for the date has started to rub off on you, a funny fuzzy feeling settling in your chest — all this Kim Seokjin talk has you itching to see the guy in the flesh, even if it is just from behind the kitchen window.

Sure enough, Jimin's Kim Seokjin senses must be somewhat accurate because a hurried hush falls across the kitchen as a black car pulls up outside, a unanimous gasp filling the room as you watch him emerge from behind the tinted glass windows in awe.

You were waiting for a tight lipped guy in a suit and tie to step inside; a younger clone of all the middle aged men who frequented the resort when their "model" children got busted bunking off from golf games or whatever rich kids did to rebel. Except the guy that strolls through the sliding doors like he has time to waste is so far from the average Paradise resident that you are almost sure you're hallucinating. Or have onion in your eyes. Surely you aren't seeing this clearly?

The guy who crosses the threshold and takes a seat at the table Jungkook graciously guides him to is clad in a vibrant Hawaiian shirt, the floral a stark contrast to the luxe interior of the resort. The garment is unbuttoned lazily and draped across his broad shoulders, a pair of round,humorously large sunglasses perched on the end of his nose, and if you weren't so shocked by his...impressionable entrance you might find the whole situation comical.

"This is Kim Seokjin?" You splutter, unable to stop the giggles that leave your lips at the sight of him bobbing his head unnecessarily hard to the monotonous classical tune that carries through the restaurant, blatantly ignoring whatever words Jungkook (who looked completely starstruck) was stuttering.

The situation becomes even more ridiculous when you see the disgruntled look on the pretty girl who traipses behind him awkwardly, dressed in a floor length gown and pearls, face turning sour when Seokjin neglects his manners and forces her to pull her own chair out to sit while he zones in on the bottle of alcohol in the centre of the table.

They look like characters out of two separate worlds. Jewels glitter on her fingers as she taps them agitatedly against the table, clearly as dumbfounded by the situation as you are, especially when she offers her glass to Seokjin to pour her a drink, only for him to thrust the entire bottle of wine in her face.

Your attention is drawn away from the unfolding scene momentarily when Jungkook flies back into the kitchen in typical Jungkook fashion, except this time with an extra bout of zealousness if the stars in his eyes weren't already obvious.

"I take it back!" He puffs, slipping his empty tray beneath his elbow, hands now free to swing Jimin around in circles. "He's the most beautiful human I've ever seen!"

You cross your arms with a sneer. "Looks like a goof to me. That shirt? Not a good look on anyone."

"But his face!"

"Yeah, his face, covered by those obnoxious glasses."

"You didn't see it." Jungkook whispers, pulling your hands into his own. "He could end mankind with that kind of face! And I bet he has a monster dong too-"

"Okay, jeez." You push him away, scrunching your nose in disgust. "No discussing customer's monster dongs in the kitchen."

"So you admit he probably has one?"

"Shush!" You hiss. The kitchen huddle lets out a synchronised gasp and you elbow your way back to the window, peering past a tall chef's hat to fix your attention on the scene which had somehow escalated ten fold since you'd left it.

Seokjin's body is wracked with laughter, hand slamming down ferociously against the table, making his date wince every time the fine china jumps on the table cloth. Her hands are placed carefully atop the napkin in her lap, food untouched as Seokjin takes the liberty to pour himself another glass of wine. He looks utterly uninterested in anything she has to say, and she seems embarrassed by his mannerless behaviour, glancing around anxiously. The tension between them is suffocating, even from your safe distance, and you swear you could cut it with one of the knives hanging from the utensil rack.

Then, Seokjin leans in towards her. He removes his glasses, carefully tucking them neatly into his shirt pocket before resting his chin in his palm to stare at her intently.

Maybe he was finally taking an interest in her? She seems to think the same thing, a small smile creeping onto her face despite her awkward demeanour.

Until it slips from her face nearly as fast as it appeared, replaced by an expression of pure appalled horror when Seokjin whispers something into her ear. You can only see the back of his head so lip reading is out of the question; but if the way her chin drops into her lap was anything to go by, you have a feeling whatever he said was not something you wanted to hear on a first date and probably not from your future husband, either.

Without further ado, the girl throws her cutlery down with a clash, gathering the fabric of her dress and storming out of the restaurant in a manner that suggests the date went badly to say the least.

A ruckus has broken out in the kitchen by this point; Jimin and Jungkook stopping mid monster dong debate to gawk, a rumble of chatter erupting as everyone processes the events you had just witnessed.

What did he say? Do you think it was the steak? What does this mean for Paradise? Is he still gonna marry her?

The last one came from Jungkook and you couldn't help but bite your lip in an attempt to smother the laughter that threatened to spill at his question. "Somehow I don't think he proposed to her just then, Kook."

Your eyes zone in on Seokjin again. He is slumped back in his seat now, knuckles pressed to his eyes. He looks exhausted, a sudden change in demeanour considering this is the same guy who was shooting finger guns at his date a few moments ago. Now he just seems defeated

For a moment you think he is going to get up and leave. That is until he twists in his seat, motioning towards the kitchen window with a crook of the finger. Dessert? He mouths.

The kitchen staff disperse hurriedly, a tinge of red creeping up Hoseok's neck at being caught spying, although it is clear by the smirk on Seokjin's face that he knew you were watching him all along. There is something in his eyes that even has you wiping the amused expression of your face, though. An authority.

"Could this night have gone any worse?" You ask Jimin, referring to Seokjin's debacle. Except Jungkook is quick to interject, thrusting two black bags in your face with a grin.

"For you, yes. Your turn to take out the trash."

You blink at him a few times before reluctantly taking the bags from his grip. They were heavy, nearly making you stumble. How had Jungkook held them so easily?

"Fine." You manage to get out between gritted teeth, struggling to balance with the extra weight in your arms. "But you owe me."

"Oh believe me," There is a glint in Jungkook's eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. What was he up to? "I'll make it up to you sooner than you think."

It's dimly lit when you stumble out back armed with a pile of trash bags, the only light source some fairy lights strung around the palm trees lining the restaurant. It takes all your strength and three tries to haul the heavy trash bags into the dark mouth of the dumpster and you're out of breath by the time you're finished.

Finally satisfied with your work, you wipe your hands on your apron and turn to stalk back inside and flick Jungkook's forehead - except a loud ringing from somewhere in the shadows stops you dead in your tracks.

You stiffen, hand reaching for the door handle as a precaution, head snapping towards the direction of the sound. You can't help the small gasp that leaves your lips when you take in the figure of a tall man leaning against the kitchen wall just a few meters away, the ringing ceasing when he lifts a phone to his ear with a frustrated groan.

Shit! As soon as you realise you're not alone and before you can think better of it you're scrambling behind the dumpster, crouching so that you're just out of view but still in earshot as the figure starts to murmur into the microphone.

"Yeah, dad, I know she flew all the way from Morocco to be here tonight. It's not my fault we weren't compatible!"

Huh? A voice squeaks on the other end of the line, and though you can't work out what they say exactly the frustrated sigh that leaves the man a few meters away tells you it wasn't exactly friendly.

"What makes you think you know what's best for me? I never wanted this stupid engagement in the first place!"

Intrigued and against your better judgement, you brace your hands on the edge of the dumpster and pull yourself on top of a cardboard box discarded beside it to get a better view of the scene. If you strain your neck you can just about see the shadow of a tall figure pacing back and forth just around the corner and you can't help but lean in a little closer to hear his harsh words more clearly, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Because it's my life! I'm sick of you and mom always telling me what to do with it." You raise an eyebrow, ever intrigued when the voice lifts from a hush to a yell. "Fine! I'll go on another date, but you'll see. I won't end up like you. You owe me big time for this, dad."

With that the phone call is cut off with a monotone beep and you see the shadow of the man pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing sharply, before the soles of his polished loafers crunch against the gravel in the direction of where you crouch, eavesdropping. You had enough experience with the residents here to know they wouldn't take this lightly — you had to sign a handful of NDA's before you even got the job, so naturally your eyes widen with panic when you realise you're about to get busted listening in on a confidential call. But before you can dive behind a trash bag and take cover, you lose your footing and find yourself hurtling head first into the dumpster, landing with a crash.

A few seconds pass, the footsteps ceasing as you squeeze your eyes shut and pray your beating heart doesn't give you away, before a voice calls out.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"No!" You squeak hurriedly, slapping a hand over your mouth when it's already too late and flushing a deep shade of red when you hear a sharp intake of breath and you realise you've blown your own cover

You silently hope the guy will give up and leave, but then you hear someone climbing the outside of the dumpster and you open your eyes to see a puzzled pair of eyes peering down at you from beneath a cocked eyebrow, followed my a loud snort. "You need some help down there, sweetheart?"

This guy might be a total stranger, but any questioning words die on your tongue when you look around and remember you're literally trapped inside a dumpster and your upper arm strength is definitely not enough to get you out of this thing alone and — hold up, there's probably rats in here, right?

You scramble to your feet, brushing your messy hair from your eyes with a nervous laugh. "Uh...yeah. I guess I do."

A steady hand emerges over the edge of the dumpster and with a weak and embarrassed smile you grasp it, suppressing a squeak when the guy unexpectedly launches you over his shoulder so that he can pull you out in one fell swoop and set you safely on the ground.

"Uh, thanks." You manage to get out when you find your balance, awkwardly brushing some dirt from your apron. "Good thing you walked by when you did..."

"Yeah, guess you could call me your knight in shining armor, huh?" The guy chuckles, long and smooth like velvet. A laugh you've heard before, just moments ago in fact. That's when you battle through your embarrassment to look up and face him for the first time, flushing at the involuntary gasp that passes your lips.

The man before you has the deepest eyes you've ever seen, sharp yet soft around the edges beneath the sparkle of the low light and you shiver when they finish looking you up and down to stare into yours directly. Your eyes slip down to the familiar Hawaiian shirt draped over his broad shoulders, eyes widening when you look between your bodies to find his fingers still clasping your own as he eyes you with a curious interest.

"S-Seokjin?" You splutter. He nods, letting out a deeper chuckle this time as though he could hold it back no longer. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question," He counters, letting you go so he can reach into his pocket to retrieve a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter, ironically just beneath the unmissable NO SMOKING sign. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here hauling trash at this hour?"

"I...work here."

He nods and you just stare at him like an open mouthed idiot. He must think it's because of the way he fiddles to spark a light at the end of his cigarette, drawing his eyes from the stick back to your surprised expression. "What? Oh these? I don't smoke. Stole these from my father's coat pocket." He shakes the box back and forth with a smug grin. "Nothing pisses him off more than loosing his Lucky Strikes. Besides, I own this place, I can do what I like."

You shrug. "Well, your father does." You are speaking too quickly, mentally pinching yourself for not being able to bite your own tongue. "He owns this place I mean. Right?"

A blush creeps up your neck under his gaze which narrows as he draws closer to you. His eyes are a deeper brown up close, like a pot of warm hot chocolate - soft at the edges where they crinkle into a smile at your rushed words. Nothing like the steely glares you usually got from residents here.

"Correct," The toe of his shoe kicks at the gravel beneath your soles while he strings together his next words carefully. "For now. I'll be proud owner of Paradise before the year is out, though."

"Ha." You can't help but snort under your breath, Seokjin's head simply tilting in response with an almost amused curiosity. "I don’t know about that. Didn't look like your fiance wanted to marry you very much."

"Word spreads quick around here, huh?" He lets out a dark laugh, grimacing at the cloud of nicotine that floats away into the nigh from the cigarette between his fingers that flutters to the gravel before it’s even reached his lips. You wince when he uses the toe of his Balenciaga’s to stub it out into a pile of smoldering ash before reaching for another one that he lights in the same way as before. "She wasn't my fiance, actually.To be honest, I hadn't even met her before tonight."

You let out an awkward laugh. "I take it the wedding's off then?"

"Ha ha," You practically hear the roll of his eyes. "At least one of us finds this funny, because my father sure as shit won't." His tone is suddenly chilly and for a moment you think you offended him, though a quick scan of his face reveals a turn up of the mouth that says otherwise. He kicks off from the wall, slinging his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and you swallow thickly as the safe distance between you grows ever smaller, so close you can smell his woody cologne. "It was never on, per se. And it never will be if I have anything to do with it."

You can't help but scoff at the way he tightens his jaw and throws his arms across his chest like a toddler in time out. Sure, you hardly knew the guy but something about his attitude rubs you the wrong way. This is the guy who has everything, yet he's trash talking his lavish lifestyle to a summer employee? 

"You're kind of an asshole, huh?"

"Can't say I haven't heard that one before." Seokjin agrees with a smirk. "But you don't seem like much of an angel yourself. First I find you eavesdropping on me, save your ass from a dumpster and then you choose to insult me?"

You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, worried you might have overstepped, mouth dry as you spit out a response. "I...I didn't mean it like that—"

"God, chill out would you? I’m kidding. You're so stiff it's stressing me out." His tongue snakes out to lick his lips thoughtfully. "You're different, y'know."

"Huh?"

"I can tell you're not like everyone else around here. You're honest." Seokjin explains, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to allow him some more breathing room as he continues. "Everyone around here is either a liar or a cheat. Or both."

"You don't even know me." You huff.

"You don’t know me either, princess.” Seokjin smirks. “So what makes you so sure I'm an asshole?."

He blinks at you eagerly, and you realise he's serious when he arrogantly waves his hand for you to go ahead and indulge him, like he's somewhat amused.

Well damn. If this guy wanted honesty you'd sure as shit give it to him

"You want the truth?" You suck in a deep breath. "I don't know what I expected when I heard the buzz about you but it certainly wasn't a rich guy who wears hawaiian shirts and makes girls cry on first dates. I don’t need to know a single thing about you to know that you’re an ungrateful asshole, just like everyone else at this resort."

A few seconds pass, Seokjin's eyes widening in momentary surprise like he wasn't used to people telling him the truth, before his face breaks out into a beaming grin. "I have a feeling we're going to be good friends." He glances at your name tag. "Y/N, is it?"

You half nod before you register his words. "Friends, what do you mean—?"

Just then the phone in his grip starts to vibrate violently, and he holds it up so you can see the bold DAD that lights up the screen.

"Sorry to cut this short pretty, but I need to take this. Better get back to work before I cut your pay check, sweetheart." You must look visibly nervous because he bursts into laughter. "What? I'm kidding, remember?"

You roll your eyes, hiding the way your face heats up by spinning on your heels and storming back towards the kitchen, pausing briefly before you can turn the handle when you hear Seokjin call your name.

"Hey. Wait up! One piece of advice. Don't let this place, get to you, okay?" Seokjin calls with a smile. "I like your honesty, it's...refreshing."

And with that he lifts the phone to his ear, disappearing around the shadowy corner with an irritating smile and a finger salute.

For some funny reason, Seokjin's words ring out in your head for the rest of the night. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends. Something tells you that isn't the last time you're going to see Kim Seokjin, and you can't tell if the way your heart skips a beat is a good thing or not.

Much to your surprise, that isn't the last time you see Kim Seokjin.

The next night he returned equally as late and equally as eccentrically dressed and left his date, blonde this time, (though equally as pretty as the last one) flustered and red in the face as she stormed out of the restaurant with glassy eyes and crushed dreams

The night after that you spot him arguing a little too loudly with a feisty lady outside the restaurant, the way he doesn't even stay long enough to finish his champagne a clear indication that the date went less than perfect.

Night after night, the same scenario played out with different unimpressed women, until finally, they just stopped coming. No more girls. No more dates. No more of Seokjin's signature laughter permeating the entire restaurant. Sure, the guy was a complete asshole, that much was clear; but you his absence left the restaurant feeling even more lifeless than before.

Obviously Seokjin's fucked up dating life wasn’t anything to laugh about. But you had to admit his antics put a smile on your face, something which had been few and far between as of late. Even when Hoseok was working you overtime, you found yourself biting your lip to suppress a grin every time Seokjin waltzed through the door. And now he was gone, and with it your small escape from reality.

"Do you think his parents finally gave up?" Jimin sighs one late evening, shaking his wet hands in the face of Jungkook who bats him away playfully.

"Nah, he probably just found a girl he likes." Jungkook reasons. "Made his parents see things from his point of view."

You snort. "They don't sound like the type of parents who would give up that easy." After more dates than you could count on one hand with various suitors deemed good enough for their son, it was clear they were prepared for him to rebel. You doubted they would give in without a fight.

"You might be right..." Jungkook trails off, rushing to smush his face against the window. "Unless...wait! I think he's back!"

"He's back?" You breathe, elbowing Jungkook out of the way and ignoring his ow! of protest, your own breath fogging up the glass now as your eyes dart from table to table in search of a familiar face.

You let out a breathy laugh. Sure enough, there he is. Hair gelled back tonight you noted, bouncing his skinny jean clad knee beneath the table with an impatience you can't quite put your finger on.

Wait...

"Ha!" You almost do a double take. Seokjin is sat alone tonight. No nearly-crying-twenty-something across from him. Just Seokjin with a single flute of champagne in his hand opposite an utterly empty chair.

Well. This is new.

"I think he's been stood up!" You lower your voice to a whisper when your burst of laughter gains a few strange looks. "There's no girl with him this time."

"What?" Jimin splutters, standing on his tip toes in an attempt to see over your shoulder. "No girl?! Let me see!"

You budge over and Jimin lets out a gasp of surprise when he takes in the scene for himself. "The Kim Seokjin got stood up. I can't believe it!"

"Maybe he's getting a taste of his own medicine." You muse.

A mischievous look crosses Jungkook's features and then he is pulling on his black apron and scurrying towards the door. "Let's find out!"

"What? — Jungkook!"

You watch open mouthed as Jungkook approaches the lonely table, fingers quivering around the order notebook he clutches like a safety blanket, with nerves or excitement you can't quite tell; before he exchanges a few words with Seokjin who barely even glances up, lazily folding a napkin in his lap. Jungkook nods vigorously before he speed walks back to the kitchen like his life depends on it, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he thrusts the order slip towards you.

"Two orders of sirloin steak, medium! Pronto!"

"Two?" You and Jimin splutter in unison.

Jungkook looks amused. Too amused for your liking.

"Yup! And guess what?" Jimin is hanging off his every word, desperate pleas of what? making Jungkook chuckle harder. "He wants the chef to serve it."

You narrow your eyes. "Hoseok? Why?"

Jungkook scoffs as if you're being clueless on purpose. "Not Hoseok, idiot!"

"Then who?"

"You." Jungkook points a finger right at you.

"Me? Wait! Jeon Jungkook, you get back here!" Before you can ask questions he is already bounding into the restaurant like a labrador on crack.

"Have fun!" He yells over his shoulder with a wink. "You'll thank me later, Y/N."

Half an hour later and you're stood with two steaming plates balanced on your arm. Why are you so nervous? All you have to do is go out there and serve the food. It's not like he was asking you to kill someone.

But every time you muster up the courage to go out there you remember your encounter with Seokjin outside the kitchens, and you instantly feel weak at the knees.

You smooth down your apron one last time, filling your lungs with the stuffy kitchen air before Jimin's hands clamp onto your shoulders and steer you towards the door.

"What are you—?" One forceful push later and you're stumbling out into the restaurant. "Jimin!"

"You can do this!" You hear Jimin call, the exasperated look you send over your shoulder in response prompting a not so reassuring thumbs up. The way your eyes downturn into a dark glare makes him collapse into a fit of gasps and giggles as he nods for you to keep going.

I'm going to get him back for this...

The table Seokjin liked to frequent is closest to the window, view casting out over the lake which the resort surrounds like a half moon, terribly modern in all it's white pillared glory in contrast to the natural beauty of the clear blue water. The lake is darkened now with the reflection of the midnight blue sky, the soft glow of lanterns lighting up the path around it and illuminating the picture of weeping willows which ripples across the water's surface, disturbed only by canoeists tying up their boats for the evening.

Seokjin doesn't seem interested in the quiet goings on of the resort. He has probably seen them a hundred times before. His back is facing you but you can see how his eyes are transfixed on the sliding entrance doors in the windows reflection. It was late evening and most people would be returning to their suites for the night by now, but Seokjin's steely gaze remains unwavering, like he's expecting it to zip open any minute. Is he waiting for someone?

Some part of you feels sympathetic. It doesn't look like anyone is coming to join him any time soon. Poor guy is about to get a taste of his own medicine and look like a fool sat opposite an empty chair harbouring a plate of uneaten food.

Ha. It's exactly what he deserves, you think. Karma.

Every step towards him feels heavier than the last until eventually you find yourself stood with knees knocking right behind him, food probably going cold with every second you spend coaxing yourself to man up and face him. You silently pray he won't hear the pound of your heart over the low hum of chatter and scrapes of cutlery against china plates that seem to fall away to silence in this corner of the restaurant where it's just Seokjin and you.

You're debating spinning on your heels and making Jungkook do it instead when Seokjin's unrelenting stare at the door snaps up to meet yours in the window's reflection, the authority in his eyes enough to have you hiding behind your hair in shame at being caught dwindling like an idiot.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually come." His voice is a deep hum that makes you jolt and nearly drop the plates. A heat burns your cheeks when Seokjin swirls the champagne in his glass amusedly, facing you with his forearm on the back of his seat and beckoning for you to set the plates down with a nod of his head. An order.

You narrow your eyes, unable to curb the irritation that laces your sigh as you obey him. You set down the dishes, one in front of him and the other in front of the seat still empty of whomever he is expecting. "I wasn't exactly expecting to be serving you tonight either. I usually just prepare the food."

Seokjin doesn't miss the roll of your eyes, snorting at the shake of your hand that gives away the anxiety beneath your front when crystal beads of champagne splash onto the immaculate table cloth as you try to top up his glass.

"Yeah and here's a reason for that. You're a shit waitress."

The way you slam the bottle down onto the table top is a little too aggressive, the legs shaking violently and drawing the eyes of a few of the surrounding diners who wipe their mouths with a delicate astonishment and flash you dark looks at the disturbance.

"Are we done? If I'm so bad then why did you call me out here?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." His fingers fold the napkin in his lap carefully. He settles back into his chair with a grin laced with mischief while you practically hop from foot to foot with nerves. "Would you sit for a second?"

"I'm an employee." You raise a brow. "I don't think that's appropriate..."

"Please?" He rests his chin in his palms.

You hug your torso and self consciously glance side to side. With a roll of your eyes you sink down into the chair, if a little reluctantly, when you're sure the couple at the table directly opposite are too deep in conversation about the crème brûlée to notice the strange encounter happening beside them.

"Fine! But make it quick or Hoseok might actually shave my head."

Seokjin gets straight to the point. "I need you to do something for me."

There is a glint in his eye as he snatches up the glass intended for the rightful occupant of the leather cushion you perch on, pouring a small amount of champagne into the flute and pushing it towards you with an encouraging nod. You observe the fizzing liquid with caution, turning your nose up at the floral aroma. Was he trying to poison you with Veuve Clicquot?

"Okay, elaborate?"

"I'm going to need you to pretend to be my date." You wait for him to laugh but his lips are pressed together in a line that tell you he is being serious. "You up for it?"

"Excuse me?" An astonished laugh punctuates your widened eyes, voice raising incredulously at his request. "Your what?"

"Hear me out!" Seokjin hisses, holding a finger to his lip to quiet you down when you splutter on the air that feels like it's thickening in your throat. "I just need to get my father off my back. It'll be five minutes tops!"

By this point you are rendered speechless, pinching the inside of your thigh to check if you are trapped in some weirdly vivid nightmare.

You? His date? Oh god...why aren't you waking up?

Your lips curl around a single breathless word. "Why?"

"Hello, I'm Kim Seokjin? Dad owns the resort? Need to get married to inherit it? I thought we went over this the other day—"

Throwing your arms over your chest impatiently, you click your tongue. "I remember idiot! I mean why me?"

"For fucks sake — you want the truth?" He chuckles but it's devoid of any humour. "You're new around here so my father is less likely to recognise you, okay?" He downs the rest of his glass, picks up his fork and pokes the cold steak on his plate restlessly, hardly bothering to look you in the face even when you scoff in disbelief.

You bite your lip, voice quiet. "Is this some sort of game?"

You are no stranger to Seokjin's tricks — you watched them play out with your own eyes, more girls than you could count on one hand leaving the restaurant in tears or worse — and something feels funny in your stomach, an instinct that says he has an ulterior motive you just can't put your finger on.

From the corner of your eye you spot Hoseok poking his head into the dining area, eyes merciless as they scan the room in search of you, the tell tale tap of his foot against the ground a giveaway of his growing impatience which makes you duck out of view in fear.

"If this is just one of your sick jokes then congrats," You deadpan. "I could literally lose my job over this."

"What? No!" He seems genuinely surprised at your accusation, exasperated sigh sounding desperate while his eyes bore into yours with a look that says please. "I'll explain everything. Please?"

He winces when your chair scrapes loudly against the tile as you get to your feet with a disbelieving shake of your head. "Sorry but I have a job to do—"

Suddenly Seokjin lets out a gasp and you hear the automatic glass doors zip open. "Ah shit!"

Seokjin's eyes widen with panic but before you can twist to see who has arrived for yourself, you're being pulled back down into the seat opposite him roughly by the elbow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Seokjin isn't listening, shrugging his jacket down his arms and wrapping the fabric around your shoulders hastily. "Cover your uniform, okay?"

The smell of his expensive cologne fills your senses and a warm hand squeezes your shoulder pleadingly, the glint in his eye replaced with desperation.

For a moment you falter and his face brightens, believing you to be finally convinced. Until you come back to your senses and slap his hand away. "Get off me!"

"Too late." Seokjin murmurs, but before you can shoot him a questioning glance a pair of polished black shoes stop beside you. Your entire body stiffens, aware of a pair of eyes probing the back of your head.

Oh no.

"Seokjin."

An unfamiliar deep voice rumbles beside you and when you dare to look up you're met with the peering face of an older man who you recognise from the Paradise website. There are traces of Seokjin visible in the curve of his mouth and the sharp edge of his jaw and he was probably considered good looking in his youth.

Ah. So this is Mr Kim?

"You lasted longer than fifteen minutes. This must be a new record, son."

Despite their likeness it's hard to believe they are father and son -- the stern frown keeping a pair of thin framed glasses balancing on Seokjin’s father’s nose along with his crisp tailored suit a far cry from the boy sat cross legged opposite you, wine colored shirt unbuttoned too far to be a mistake.

Seokjin plasters a false grin to his mouth and raises his glass towards Mr Kim, as if to toast. "I told you I would try didn't I?"

Mr Kim says nothing, averting his intimidating gaze to you instead. Your mouth dries when he addresses you directly. "What was your name again?"

Shit! Alarm bells sound in your head, instantly regretting coming out here in the first place and getting mixed up in Seokjin's mess.

You swallow thickly, hardly daring to look him in the eye. "It's — uh," Seokjin is signalling at you with an alarmed look, face falling into his palms with a muffled groan when you fail to catch on.  "Y-Y/N. I'm Y/N."

"Is it now?" Mr Kim scratches his chin thoughtfully, humming to himself as he studies your face. Shit, does he recognise you from the kitchen? Are you about to get fired? Your pulse goes into overdrive when his eyes narrow. "I'm sure I remember it being something like—"

"Her middle name!" Seokjin quickly butts in, cutlery clattering onto his plate in his haste to gain his fathers attention. "She goes by her middle name. We were just talking about it actually. Right, Y/N?"

All eyes fall on you again, Seokjin sending you a pleading look, but you don't trust your voice not to waver so you just nod and hide your rosy cheeks by wrapping your lips around rim of the untouched champagne glass.

"Funny middle name." He shrugs, landing an audible slap to Seokjin's back who winces at the hard contact. Mr Kim's eyes seem kinder as they look between you. "I'm proud of you, son. I'm glad you could finally see things from our perspective."

"Sure, dad." Seokjin shrinks away from his fathers touch with a look of distaste. "Now would you do us a favor and leave us to discuss...marriage things?" You choke on your mouthful of bubbly, eyes watering as you try to hold back a spluttering cough.

Thankfully, Mr Kim is already losing interest, flashing Seokjin a thumbs up before striding over to one of the waiters holding a platter of coconut shrimp appetizers and taking a handful for himself.

Watching him gain a safe distance and disappear among a circle of business men at the bar, you finally feel safe to let out the shaky breath you were holding. Seokjin presses his knuckles to his eyes, the vein in his neck protruding with tension.

"What the fuck was that?" He seems to have forgotten your presence, lost in his own thoughts until you rip his jacket from where it sits around your shoulders and throw it into his lap with contempt. Your laugh of disbelief sounds foreign to your own ears, unable to comprehend what actually just happened.

"You're crazy!" You let out breathlessly. "I'm out of here."

Before you can storm off like you want to, Seokjin's hand closes around your wrist and pins you in place.

"Listen, I know you think this is ridiculous but I'm literally about to get on my knees and beg you here. Just do me one more favour." You shoot him a glare and for a second you think he might actually drop to the ground and grovel if you asked him to. "Just one!"

No matter how hard you try to pull away Seokjin is persistent. "Why should I?"

"Because you have a conscience?" He pleads. "The human desire to help others in need?"

"This is crazy—"

"I'll repay you!"

You pause. "How?"

"Undecided." His head tilts in thought. "You need money?"

Disgust courses through your veins. This guy thinks he can buy you? You have encountered some entitled rich guys at Paradise but this has to be the icing on the cake, an unbelievable disconnect from acceptable social discourse — though are you surprised? He doesn't exactly have a reputation for being a good conversation holder for fucks sake, just ask his other dates.

You scoff. "I don't accept bribes. I think we're done here. Good luck with your plan or...whatever."

"Y/N wait—" Something in his voice makes you stop dead this time. An authority. No longer pleading but commanding. "I'll fire you myself right here if you don't help me out just once."

Your heart twists. Part of you knows that whatever Seokjin has in mind will be batshit crazy, if his antics tonight were anything to judge by. It would pain you to do something so demeaning but...you need this job. The decision was practically made for you.

You swivel to face him. He is standing over you now, hands on hips as if he means business. "One favor! That's it!"

He punches the air triumphantly. "You want it in writing or something?" He teases, the glint in his eye back now and taunting as you practically vibrate with a combination of embarrassment and rage.

"Don't push it." You warn. 

"Okay, jeez." He throws his hands up in defense. You are acutely aware of the hysterical giggles coming from the kitchen belonging to none other than Jungkook and Jimin and the way your face burns scarlet as you storm away from Seokjin with fists clenched. "I'll let you know when I need you, sweetheart."

09:04, from unknown: — 10 o clock. meet me outside the archery court. — go to locker 16, key will be in the lock. you'll find everything you need inside

The light of your phone stings your half-open eyes, slumber still clinging to your body as you rub away any remnants of sleep with your knuckles and re-read the strange text over and over again.

Archery? An accidental text to the wrong number, surely?

You glance at the clock next to your bed - the text was sent over twenty minutes ago by now. Whoever the recipient was supposed to be wouldn't have long to get ready.

09:26, you: — huh? who is this?

Before you can even set your phone down and swing your legs out of bed your phone pings, the sound enough to make you wince in your sleepy state.

09:26, unknown: — it's seokjin??? — you know, the guy you're supposed to be marrying?

Excuse you?

All remnants of sleep and/or inner peace are ripped away as soon as you see his name pop up on your homescreen.

"Seokjin?" You splutter out loud. A name you never thought you would have to see again, let alone at this time in the morning.

You scramble into a sitting position, back pressed to the headboard as you grip your bed hair in pure disbelief. The three little dots bounce menacingly at the bottom of the screen as you type and re-type a response. Eventually you settle on something simple and to the point:

09:28, you: — how the fuck did you get this number???

Ping ping. You resist a face palm as you gather the confidence to input your password and read whatever bullshit Seokjin responded with.

09:29, unknown: — i think you're forgetting i own this place — not to brag but ive got connections — anyway, you have half an hour to get your ass over here before my sister arrives.

As you thought - utter bullshit. His sister? It's almost as if Seokjin thinks you are actually dating - or even worse, actually getting hitched.

Wait...he doesn't...does he? You suppress a groan. Why else would he be dragging you out of your apartment to go and shoot arrows at targets with his sister instead of polishing his golf club collection or lounging with self made millionaires or whatever rich things rich guys do.

You are just here to get some culinary experience. To blend into the background like the rest of the employees at Paradise, to focus on making the lives of CEO's and retired business men as easy and as luxurious as possible. Why on earth is he even taking notice of you?

09:30, you: — your sister??

09:30, unknown: — yeah? who'd you think you were arching with? — i don't do sports. — count yourself lucky my mom had to take a rain check

Fuck. His mom?

"Get a grip!" You chastise yourself. You had barely spoken two words to each other before the other night, his existence unbeknownst to yours let alone yours to his; the exchange itself a glitch in the simulation and definitely not something which you wanted to make a habit - so why are you instilled with nerves at the thought of meeting this guy's family?

You don't have time to respond with a harsh reminder of your respective positions at Paradise and why this is absolutely a Bad Idea before Seokjin sends a series of reassuring follow up texts, almost as though he read your mind and all it's reluctant thoughts.

09:32, unknown: — don't worry so much this is just to make people think we're really seeing each ohter — other* — hurry, can't have people thinking my future wife isn't punctual — doesn't look good for the reputation 😎

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck!

This is actually happening. How did you manage to get roped into some rich dudes family drama and his consequent plan of deception? And why on earth you fly out of bed, desperately trying to pat down your fly away bed hair while simultaneously shrugging on a pair of jeans is utterly beyond you.

But deep down you know why. It's because you have a sympathy for Seokjin. A goddamn sympathy for the man who seemingly had everything and who every other resident at Paradise wished they could be.

You are increasingly aware of the way your heart hammers against your rib cage, pulse quickening with every tick of the clock that brings you closer to 10 o clock. Not because you're about to see Seokjin again, surely?

Pfft. Of course not! This is just a favour - a formality as an acquaintance if you could even call yourself that.

The clock ticks over to 09:40. No, you promise yourself as you scoop up your bag and your keys. It's doesn’t mean anything, it’s just because you hate being late.

You end up being late anyway, despite rushing to Paradise from your nearby apartment without so much as considering breakfast and somehow managing to gather the courage to open the door to the women's locker room.

Embarrassment pools in your stomach when you feel the quizzical eyes of Paradise regulars burning into your back over the edges of their martini glasses. It takes all your strength to pass by them with your eyes trained to your shoes, hoping to seem unbothered by their towel turbans and gossiping lips.

You’re unsure why you feel so out of place. It's not as if you are trespassing; they gave you a benefits card when you accepted the job, giving you access to some of the resort's facilities. Some would say it was generous, but it's not as if you ever had a chance to use them in between long kitchen shifts.

Luckily, you doubt there's a risk of them recognising you from the kitchen. The resort is mostly populated by younger club members and besides it's not as if they ever cared to study your face for long enough to commit it to memory.

Still, your casual sweater and jeans combo makes you stand out like a sore thumb in a room full of designer polo shirts and athletic wear and you can't suppress the sigh of relief that escapes you when you make it past a hoard of already merry day drinkers on their way to a hot yoga class in search of locker 16 as instructed by Seokjin.

Sure enough, a key sits snugly in the lock. When you open the metal door you find a tennis skirt with a matching polo shirt, both folded neatly beneath a pair of strikingly white sneakers.

You scoop the pile into your arms, surprised when a card flutters to the ground. You recognise the Paradise logo in the corner, an unfamiliar handwritten scrawl smudged across the front in black pen.

Put these on and meet me round the back of the range. I'll be waiting. - SJ

You roll your eyes. Would it kill him to say please? Not that he is used to asking nicely. Manners are few and far between when things are handed to you on a silver platter (or by an underpaid kid with a summer job). At least that's what you gathered from your observations since you got here.

You slip into the white ensemble, silently thanking the you from yesterday for shaving your legs when you notice just how uncomfortably short the skirt is. The fabric smells like one of those expensive perfumes you sprayed at the store once and you briefly wonder who these clothes belong to.

Fastening your hair into a high pony tail like you see the other girls here do, you take a deep breath and finally sidle up to the full body mirror.

Almost everyone has filtered out of the locker room by now, some to spa appointments, others to sports matches and you find yourself alone, nearly choking on the humid air when you take in your appearance for the first time.

You look like you belong here.

Collar popped around your neck, skirt falling in perfect pleats around your waist, hair falling against your cheekbones. Not a speck of dirt on the branded shoes cushioning your soles.

For a moment you feel a sense of pride fill your chest, head resting high on your shoulders as you bask in the confidence that washes over you until you feel giddy with belonging.

Until you remember what you really are. An imposter.

Despite your Paradise inspired appearance you are nothing but a fake. A smudge on one of the picture perfect Paradise postcard's in the gift shop.

Your shoulders deflate, the sudden urge to tug your sweater back on and run as fast as you can becoming overwhelming.

Your let yourself slump onto one of the plush couches, head falling into your hands. What are you doing here? Letting some guy dress you up like a doll and show you off to save his own ass?

Besides, his family would see through you as soon as you walked out there. After all a polished stone, although pretty, can never be a diamond. And these people know diamonds like the back of their hands.

Is it because he has the authority to fire you from the kitchen job you worked so hard to get? Or is it because somewhere deep inside you are curious to see what could be in this for you?

A vibration on the couch beside you draws you from your thoughts.

10:09, unknown: — where r u????? — you know where the range is right???

God, why didn't you just say no in the first place?

"Just get on with it," you tell yourself sternly. Meet his sister, smile politely and leave without owing Kim Seokjin a single thing.

You will save his ass, buy him the time he needs to convince his parents to get off his back. And then you can go back to your culinary uniform and back to serving up lobster to rich people and you can forget this ever happened and that he so much as exists.

With a shaky breath you get to your feet, throwing your familiar clothes into the locker along with your comfort zone and what feels like your entire identity.

If this is going to work you couldn't think like Y/N, you realise. You have to think like a Paradise country club member. And luckily for you, your careful observation of other residents from the kitchen gives you quite a lot of material to work with.

Before you can second guess yourself you're taking a deep breath and striding out of the locker room door and into the sunny resort grounds.

Oh god. I'm really doing this. You suddenly feel exposed as you pass the golf court, just managing to dodge a rattling cart before it flattened you.

A pair of girls stroll past with arms interlinked, tennis rackets swinging at their sides leisurely as they make their way to the course.

Oh god. They're gonna see through you. Oh god. Just smile!

You let the corners of your mouth curve up into the closest thing to a smile you can muster, pleased when you earn a friendly nod in greeting before they dive back into their conversation again.

Nobody is noticing. You hold your head high, telling your shoulders to relax and look natural. You can do this.

You reach the range but instead of following the group of middle aged men ahead of you up to the front entrance, you slip round the back. Your eyes land on him instantly; none other than Kim Seokjin, leaning impatiently against the wall, just like he said he would be.

His appearance is enough to have you faltering in your tracks. Unlike the last time you saw him when he donned a much less flattering eye sore of a Hawaiian shirt, he's put together from head to toe - white button up tucked into a pair of tailored trousers, brown loafers showing off his ankles, the whole outfit finished off by a knit sweater tied around his shoulders.

"Wow." You can't help it. You're starting to see why he had a reputation for being particularly easy on the eye.

You swallow thickly, shaking the stunned feeling from your head and ignoring the way your heart beats a little faster the closer you draw to him.

"Finally!" Seokjin hums as he lets out a frustrated huff, eyes glued to the Rolex on his wrist. "Where have you been-"

His breath hitches when he finally looks up and takes you in for the first time. You were surely imagining the way his eyes widen and look you up and down. Right?

"Well well," Seokjin regains his self control quickly, licking his lips. "Someone scrubs up well."

Smartass. "To my credit you've only ever seen me in my work clothes."

"Touché." He purses his lips. "Nobody could make those hats look good. Except me, obviously."

There is that glint in his eye again. As if he is messing with you to get you riled up again. If he wasn't the Kim Seokjin you'd mistake him as flirtatious.

You hug your torso, confidence dwindling with every second you stand beneath Seokjin's probing gaze, anxious to get out onto the range before it dissipates completely. "So? Are we just gonna stand here?"

"You turn up late and then have the audacity to order me around?" His eyebrows furrow and for a second you think he's going to warn you. Remind you who has the power here.

But then his face breaks out into an amused smirk and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Remember when I said I think you and I are going to get along just fine?"

Seokjin slings his hands into his pockets, striding towards the back door of the facility. He shakes the handle before using his key card to let you both into the archery equipment lodge.

You trail behind him. "Don't get too comfortable," You warn. "This is a one time thing."

Seokjin muses over a selection of crossbows in display cases before fishing in his pocket for a key, unlocking the glass and taking down two flashy ones. He grabs a quiver loaded with arrows from a stand and thrusts both into your arms without warning.

"Sure." He is slinging a quiver over his own shoulder now. He holds open the door to the archery range, gesturing for you to go first. So now he has manners? "If you say so."

The archery range is an expanse of perfectly pruned green grass, surrounded by the breathtaking scenery of fragrant rose bushes and trailing ivy that the resort boasts. And, as you're learning, an excuse for refreshments, as you find yourself now in a fancy veranda bar with high arching windows that overlook the distant targets, serving chilled lemonade and Prosecco and appetisers on fancy napkins.

"Pretty cool, right?" Seokjin asks, resting his elbows on the windowsill and smirking at your speechlessness and open mouthed expression. "But quit looking so surprised, yeah? You gotta make my sister think this is normal for you."

You don't have time to ask what he means before you are being spun around and engulfed in a hug. You freeze, sucking in a breath of surprise, the sickly smell of fancy shampoo engulfing your senses as your face is pushed into a head of perfect ringlets.

"You must be Y/N." The person, a woman, purrs into your ear. "It's good to finally meet you." The way she draws out the word makes you nervous.

This is Seokjin's sister?

Something about it doesn't feel how a hug is supposed to. Instead it feels like a silent interrogation. Are you good enough to be one of us? Nothing about it is warm. Instead it's sticky, your hands patting her back awkwardly, counting the seconds in your head until it is acceptable to pull away from her stiff hold.

When she lets go you are met with the tight lipped smile of a pretty twenty something, eyes scanning your face from beneath a sun visor. A customised hot pink quiver drapes across her shoulder and you notice the way she eyes your borrowed equipment distastefully.

"That would be me." You force a smile that ends up being a little too wide, glancing nervously at Seokjin who simply nods  in encouragement. "It's good to...finally meet you too?"

She holds you at arms length, giving you a once over before speaking tightly. "Well aren't you a doll?"

You must look as terrified as you feel because her eyebrows raise triumphantly. Seokjin senses the tension. He looks between the two of you almost worriedly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. For a second you think his concern is kind of sweet...No! Not allowed.

"No hug for me?" Seokjin swoops in and his sister's features harden at his sarcastic tone, a punch landing on his shoulder which he pretends to rub better, emitting a small ow!

"You're late."

"Sorry Hyejin, couldn't find my best shoes." Seokjin throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you from her grasp a little protectively and flashing an award winning smile that makes your heart flip...No! Definitely not allowed.

"Those are your best shoes?" She grimaces, shaking her head with an air of disappointment. "You left me waiting here for half an hour for those?" Her eyes narrow at you accusingly, as if she knows the truth and wants you to offer an apology.

Seokjin is quick to save you again. "Yup. All my fault. Shall we shoot?"

"Gladly." She smooths down a stray curl, studying her reflection in the glass windows. "I've been itching to see Y/N's aim since I got here. I hear you are a pro, no?"

You choke. A pro?

Luckily she's already stalking across the deck in her click-clacking wedges and out onto the damp green grass, missing the panicked glance shared between yourself and Seokjin.

"Uh-"

"Um-"

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. Think of something, he mouths.

She stops dead, shooting a puzzled glance over her shoulder. "Well are you?"

"Not exactly-" You start.

"I think you're thinking of one of the other...candidates, Hyejin." Seokjin says carefully. He places his palm at the small of your back. The gesture was probably just for show but it comforts you none the less.

"I'm sure she's just being modest." She says to Seokjin, but she's looking right at you. Her forefinger taps against her palm and you can almost see the puzzle pieces falling together in her head before her expression smooths out and you let out a sigh of relief. "So. Shall we?"

Seokjin nods sheepishly. Hyejin slings an arrow into her bow with the ease of an expert, Seokjin quickly following suit. And it is in that moment, as you watch them shoot equally as precise shots to the centre of their respective targets, that it dawns on you. You have never shot a bow and arrow in your life.

"Let's see just how good you are." Hyejin steps back, offering you the main stage. You squint at the targets in the far distance, the rings blurring into one. How on earth did they make hitting those things look so easy?

"Sure thing." You wince at the strain in your voice as you fumble to pull an arrow from your quiver, fingers shaking as you try to sling it into the bow.

You can do this..

You lift the bow, close your eyes and hope for the best when you let go of the arrow, watching as it flies a short distance before sticking upright in the dirt just short of the target.

Cheeks scarlet, you glance at Hyejin who looks positively horrified. "When you said not exactly good I wasn't expecting you to be so...inexperienced. No personal trainer?" She muses, eyeing you quizzically, to which you shoot her an embarrassed smile in confirmation. "Anybody would think it was your first time!" You sheepishly giggle along to the hearty chuckle she enjoys at the mere thought, spluttering when her face suddenly darkens "It's not right?"

You freeze. "Uhhh..."

"It's just nerves," Seokjin insists, palms clamping your shoulders and thrusting you forward again. "She's probably just shitting it because you're watching."

"Language!" Hyejin scolds, letting the roll of Seokjin's eyes slip when she sees you fiddling with another arrow.

This time you prepare the bow with ease, a bout of confidence washing over you as you make eye contact with Seokjin over the top of the bow you raise to your shoulder. His eyes soften slightly and he offers an encouraging nod as you squint at the target and shoot the arrow straight into the centre ring.

You're momentarily shocked at your own abilities before Seokjin is letting out a genuinely impressed hoot, his hand coming between you to offer a sly high five unbeknownst to Hyejin. A silent congratulations for not completely fucking up.

"Pretty good." Hyejin nods, looking genuinely impressed, and you give yourself a silent pat on the back.

Holy shit. This is really working! She believes you belong here!

"Although I'm not sure where father got the idea of professional from with that technique," She lowered her voice, clearly only intending for Seokjin to hear the last part despite you standing beside her. "I must admit her figure seems better suited to tennis anyway..."

Or not. Maybe you still have some work to do...

Hyejin seems in a hurry to get to the next target, and Seokjin hangs back to whisper in your ear before you follow.

"Congrats," He hums with a smirk. "You fit right in. Welcome to Paradise, Y/N."

The next forty five minutes pass quicker than you expect.

"— and I said, 'How could you seat the Jeon's next to the Jung's when you know they're feuding about the business contract'?" Hyejin exclaims. "Scandalous."

"Scandalous." You reply with a bored attempt at enthusiasm, raising your eyebrows at Seokjin over the rim of your glass as you sip cloudy lemonade through a straw. To his credit he looks equally as exhausted with Hyejin's spiel, shaking his knee impatiently as he itches for an opportunity to pounce.

As Hyejin continues to make mildly interrogative small talk and you find it increasingly easier to think on the spot when she asks about your family's (imaginary) dynasty and the university degree in economics you (supposedly) possess, you start to feel more comfortable. But Seokjin still refuses to loosen the arm resting around your shoulders keeping you planted by his side all afternoon, as if he is nervous his sister might swoop down like a bird and take you away at any moment, like a toddler with a toy.

That's why when she suggests a trip to the little girls room to powder your noses, Seokjin throws you a reluctant look. He protests at first when you readily agree (hoping to splash some cold water on your face to cool the constant burn that seems to have settled into your every pore) and he still looks concerned, knee bouncing nervously, when you peel yourself away from his body and disappear into the bar a few steps behind Hyejin who doesn't seem interested in side by side small talk.

In fact, you use the bathroom in silence and she doesn't speak another word until you catch her gaze in the mirror as she emerges from a cubicle behind you.

"You might have my little brother fooled but I see right through you, you know." She sets down her cosmetics bag on the sink, retrieving an expensive tube of lipstick and swiping the pinkish colour over her lips nonchalantly.

The tap stops running over your soaped up hands as you try to curb the nausea her words induce. Does she know who you are? Who you really are?

Despite the shake to your voice you try to play it cool. "W-what do you mean?"

Hyejin's laugh is small and tight, nothing about it humorous at all. Her eyes never leave her reflection, fluffing up her curls with an air of superiority. "I see through parasites like you straight away."

Your mouth falls agape with astonishment. "Parasites?"

"You should know that I have people all over this place who will find out exactly why you came here." For the first time she turns to look you dead in the eye, a bitter smile lacing her lips smugly. She is eye level but it feels like she is towering above you. "What is it you want? Money?"

"No I—"

"Just wait." Hyejin slings her bag over her shoulder triumphantly, voice getting smaller as her heels click across the tiles to the door. She pauses, poking her head back into the room as if burdened with an after thought. "You could do with some more mascara, by the way, darling. Would make you look much prettier."

And then she's gone, leaving you to watch her hips swaying into the distance with hands dripping dry onto the ground.

By the time you calm your nerves enough to emerge from the bathroom looking semi-confident, Hyejin is already ordering another drink and Seokjin is straining his neck to search for you anxiously.

Even from a few meters away you can see the way he sighs with relief when he spots you approaching. It didn't last for long though as he must notice the slightly reddened rings around yours eyes that weren't there before and before you can give him a watery smile in greeting, he is on his feet.

"What happened?"

You bite your lip. "Seokjin, I think I need to go."

"I knew this would happen. Did she try and get in your head?" You nod and his face darkens. "I was an idiot bringing you here."

"It's fine, I shouldn't have agreed, you stay and I'll just go—"

"Right!" Seokjin makes a show of slapping his palms to his knees, practically jumping to his feet and dragging you up with him by your elbow, only a hare away from spilling the drink in your hands. "Sorry to cut this short but I think it's time for Y/N and I to be going."

Hyejin looks positively furious at the suggestion of saying goodbye, gesturing towards the bucket of ice in the centre of the table you had inhabited after your arms began to hurt from holding the archery bow. "But we haven't even opened the Champagne yet, Jin-"

"Oh I don't day drink." You wave her off, biting your lip with instant regret when you see how her face hardens.

"Sorry Hyejin but there really just isn't enough time," Seokjin insists, reaching for your bag to save you the trouble, slinging it across your shoulder and pushing you by the shoulders towards the exit. It's not like you have a choice in the matter but you have to admit you are relieved the whole fiasco is finished. "Send my best wishes to Wonho and Minhye!"

"Minhyuk." Hyejin splutters as she staggers to her feet, chair scraping obscenely. "Your nephew's name is Minhyuk!"

"Good to know!" Seokjin calls over his shoulder, already speed walking into the lobby before you can make out her response.

When Seokjin decides there is enough distance between you and the range he drops his arm from where it drapes around your shoulders. You didn't realise it was there until it was already gone, a cold emptiness settling over you. Why had it felt so natural?

He lets out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank god that's over with. I thought she would never stop talking."

You snort in agreement. "I've never told so many lies in my life."

"I find that hard to believe." Seokjin smirks when you slap his arm playfully. "It came too easily to you."

"It's your fault! Your deceptive ways are rubbing off on me!"

"Deceptive ways?" Seokjin splutters, a genuine laugh spilling from his lips. Heartier and much different to the strained chuckles he's been giving Hyejin all day. You decide by the way your heart lurches that you like it much better. "I'll have you know I never lie."

"You're joking right?" Surely he is aware that it was him that roped you into this identity fraud master plan in the first place? The smirk on his face says yes. It's your turn to laugh, mimicking his earlier tone. "I find that hard to believe."

"Then ask me a question and I'll tell you the honest truth and nothing but the truth."

"Uhh okay?" You pause, mulling over all the questions you really want to ask. Why did you choose me? Does this make us friends? Are you gonna look through me again at the restaurant when this whole thing is over?  Before you sheepishly settle on something more appropriate.

"How much is the resort worth? It must be a lot if you would go to all this...trouble."

"Five hundred."

"Five hundred thousand?"

"You're coy. Of course not." He chuckles. "Million."

Oh. Well now everything makes sense.

"Come on, ask me another." Seokjin bumps his shoulder against yours playfully, hair falling in his eyes that you’re desperate to push away. Your cheeks burn. "What's on your mind, kitchen girl?"

Don't say it...don't say it...

"D-did your sister hate me?"

Too late. The question slips out before you can stop it and you slap a hand over your mouth in shock.

He narrows his eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Why do you want to know? It's not like any of this really mattered - it wasn't real after all. So why does your stomach twist when you remember the spiteful way Hyejin spoke to you?

You flash a sheepish smile. "J-just interested."

Your ego was just bruised that's all. It was natural to feel bad when someone didn't like you, right?

"Then yes."

Oh.

Your chest clenches for no reason. Maybe he really never lies after all, huh?

Seokjin must notice the way you pout. "It's not personal! That's just how she is. Honestly, out of all the candidates so far you're the one she hated the least..."

You snort. "Good to know?"

You come to a stop outside the locker room doors. You don't know what to say - what is left? Goodbye? Thank you?

You're probably never going to speak to him again, true; but goodbye feels too formal. Too real. Instead you stay quiet, the sound of cicadas and balls hitting racquets filling the silence as Seokjin’s chocolate brown eyes make you weak at the knees when they darken, his body drawing ever closer to yours.

"Aren't you gonna ask how I plan on repaying you?"

Seokjin's fingers wrap around your elbow before you can slip away and you gasp at how his skin burns yours. You swallow thickly. The light bounces off his face dazzlingly and you have to admit he looks good right now, with his shirt unbuttoned lazily and his bitten lips inches from yours.

"I-I forgot about that." You admit. Sure you had been uptight about this whole idea initially but you couldn't deny the fact that today had been kinda fun. Did you really need a reward? Maybe you'd got a little lost in pretending to be someone else. So what?

"Well," Seokjin draws closer until your back presses against the wall, his breath hot next to your ear. "I have something in mind."

Your pulse quickens when you feel his hand rest upon your hip, the rise and fall of his chest so close that you get tingles down your spine.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "W-what is it?"

His chuckle is warm against your sensitive neck and you shudder when his lips ghost over your skin, so so close. "Can I show you?"

"Sure." You breathe.

And then he takes you by the chin, lining up your mouths and crashing them together in a hot tangle of tongue and teeth, his chapped lips moving against yours with an urgency. Your arms snake around his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape and pulling him into you with a thump.

Before your eyes can flutter shut and your heart can get lost in the feeling of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip and the taste of sour lemonade that still lingers on his tongue, Seokjin pulls back with a smirk, eyes dropping to your parted lips and then back to your blown out eyes with a satisfaction.

He runs a knuckle down your cheek. You feel your legs weaken.  "I want you."

The huskiness in his voice makes your head spin, chest burning with the desire to connect your lips again. But you resist.

"Why?" You squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling back against the wall to avoid his gaze, embarrassed at how shaky your voice sounds after one kiss. God, you're weak. "Why me?"

"Like I said," Seokjin's fingers trace down your sides, eyes darkening when he notices the way the light touch makes you shiver under him. "I want you. Have since I first saw you."

He wants you? What about all those other girls, the ones he sent running? The ones who were much more suited to him than you would ever be?

"So what?" You scoff, biting your lip to stop a needy gasp when he presses a bold kiss to your jaw. "Want to add me to the list of girls who — mmf — w-who you seduced?"

He pauses, lips pressed against your burning skin for a little longer while he registers your words. "Maybe." He resumes his earlier actions, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "Is that so bad?"

"I can't do this." You bite your lip. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't intending on letting Seokjin get to you, didn't mean to become a mark in his black book or a notch in his bed post.

"Why not?" He presses his forehead to yours. Your breath hitches and you will the warm tingle in your stomach to go away. "I saw you checking me out on the range."

The way he grins tells you that you hadn't been so subtle after all.

"And besides," Seokjin grips your ass through your skirt, making you gasp to his satisfaction. "This way, I get to pay you back and have some fun of my own."

"H-how?" You can feel yourself slipping. Into his touch, into his words.

"By making you cum." That had your panties damp and he knew it, the heat between your legs distracting you from the way he groans against your lips when your hips buck into him involuntarily.

It's like he knows what you need, slotting his leg between your own and putting pressure on the growing ache in your core. "I know you want this too."

He's right, the way the cotton of your panties has begun to cling to your folds a tell tale sign of your arousal. Seokjin knew exactly how to make you putty in his hands. Every teasing touch of his lips to your neck, every feather light trace of his fingers has him chuckling darkly when you melt into his body, unable to resist the way he makes your core ache needily for his touch.

"Come on, I can make you feel good." Your breath hitches when fingers toy with the hem of your skirt. "If I just lift this up..."

Oh god. If you don't stop now it'll be too late...

His hand slips beneath your skirt, pads of his fingers hooking your sodden panties to the side, the flash of cold air against your needy folds making you whine into the crook of his neck. "P-please."

You feel him smirk against your hair, speaking with a tone so sickly sweet you would've rolled your eyes if your clit wasn't already pulsating for his touch. "Please what?"

"Make me cum."

"I knew you would come round." He pulls back to face you, drinking in the expression on your face which you presume is utterly fucked out. You have to admit the way his own irises have darkened with what you recognise as lust makes your stomach leap in anticipation. "So desperate for me already hm?"

You whine, somewhat in confirmation, somewhat in frustration at his refusal to touch you even when you buck against his hand. "Please."

"I wouldn't have put you down as the begging type." His hand suddenly cups your heat, pads of his fingers circling your entrance teasingly. He lets out a choked groan when he feels your arousal. "This wet for me? Already?"

"What do you expect?" You stammer, squeezing his shoulders and holding back on the urge to buck against his palm again. "You've got your hand up my skirt."

"Mmm, I could just make you come undone right here." His eyes darken, tongue snaking out to wet his chapped lips hungrily. "Could easily fuck you out nice and slow with my fingers if I wanted to, hmm?" Seokjin has begun to circle your entrance teasingly, making you squirm every time he nearly slips inside.

"Fuck." Your eyes are squeezed shut, breathing already laboured despite him barely even touching you, just the thought of him filling you up getting you dangerously worked up. "I want you to."

"What was that?" Seokjin's lips curve up mischievously, one of his fingers nearly filling you up before he removes his hand and you groan with frustration. "Gotta use your words sweetheart."

Your heart thumps at the use of the pet name but you choose to ignore it, instead reaching between your bodies to clasp his wrist before it disappears completely. "Fuck me," you pant, eyes roaming his with desperation. His staunch gaze never falters. "Please, fuck me now."

Seokjin connects your swollen lips again, but not before mumbling against them gruffly. "Remember you asked for it."

Then, his free hand to spreads your legs, knee stopping them from closing as his other hand closes in on your aching core. The feeling of his digits running down your soaked slit has you panting and you feel your legs buckle when he pressed two of his lithe fingers into your heat without warning. You are dripping by now, hole accommodating the stretch and allowing his fingers to slip inside easily.

Your clit pulsates with need and you want to feel Seokjin everywhere, have him take you in any way he wants, momentarily lost to the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of your heat; until you remember that you have Seokjin's hand down your pants in broad daylight and anyone could walk by and see just how weak he makes you.

"Wait!" He halts his ministrations, raising a brow. "W-we can't, not here."

You mewl when his thumb ghosts across your swollen clit, touch light but enough to have you gasping into the crook of his neck.

"Let's take this inside, then." Before you can ask what he means his fingers disappear, leaving your hole clenching agonisingly around nothing again. He presses the arousal coated digits to your lips and you enjoy the way his jaw tightens as you eagerly take them into your hot mouth, humming when you taste yourself on your own tongue. "Fuck you'll drive me crazy if you keep this up."

You can tell you are getting to him, even if he is trying to hide it. The way his eyes roll back when you suck his fingers clean, how he bites his cheek to stop a lustful groan when his eyes dip between your bodies to your almost naked heat tells you all you needed to know.

He can't take it any longer.

Seokjin pulls his hand away with a wet pop, your throbbing heat protesting when he let your legs fall shut, linking his clammy hand with your own. "Come with me."

It takes a second to remember how to walk, letting him pull you behind him in your dizzy haze. His hand is warm in yours and your entire body aches to feel them on you again. It's already too late to hide your swollen lips and slightly mussed up hair before Seokjin drags you right into the men's locker room .

"Wait, we can't do it in here—"

"Everyone out!" Seokjin's voice bellows through the locker room, all its inhabitants pausing their ministrations to peer at you curiously.

You try to let go of Seokjin's hand to button up your shirt but he won't let you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you hide behind him self consciously, knees knocking. "We need to use the locker room."

A groan erupts through the room, a chorus of again? permeating the sound of lockers slamming shut with frustration before one by one all the dudes in the locker room began to shuffle past you to the exit.

"Seokjin!" You hiss, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear angrily. "Now everyone knows!"

Seokjin's thumb rubs across your knuckles soothingly. "Who cares?"

You feel your cheeks flush hotly when a man you recognise from the restaurant, now wearing nothing but a towel, narrows his eyes in a knowing look. You willed the ground to swallow you up.

The sound of footsteps ceases, the door swings closed and finally you're alone.

"Better?" Seokjin turns to you expectantly.

"I can't believe you just did that!" You cover your face with your palms. "God how am I going to look any of them in the eyes again."

"They don't care." He soothes, your unamused expression not faltering still.

"Are you even allowed to do that? W-What if they tell someone—"

"They won't," Seokjin smirks. "They value their memberships here too much."

You bite your lip. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Seokjin rushes forward to cup your face in his palms reassuringly. The act feels a little too sincere and you nearly melt at the intimacy, resisting copying his motion by pinching your palm instead. "It's okay, seriously! They're just jealous that I get lucky more around here than any of the old bastards have in their entire lives."

"I don't believe you." Your words are muffled by his chest, his chuckle vibrating against your cheek.

"They're jealous because they'll never get this lucky."

"Huh?" Seokjin's hands slide down the small of your back to cup your ass, lifting your entire weight so that your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a giggle of surprise when his face comes into view, smirking up at you.

"Lucky enough to get someone as pretty as you underneath them."

There they are again, the butterflies in your stomach, the skip of a beat in your heart, a warmth spreading through your chest that feels too good to question right now. "Technically I'm above you." You mumble. "Besides they were all, like, fifty years old or something."

"Just shut up would you?" Seokjin stumbles forward, throwing you roughly onto one of the couches. The fabric feels like velvet when your nails clutch at it desperately, trying to hold on to whatever control you have left when Seokjin drops to his knees between your legs to hover over you. "And kiss me for fucks sake."

You oblige, pulling him by the collar to connect your lips in a kiss even more heated than before if that was even possible. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you sigh contentedly into the kiss when he pulls your face even closer with his palms.

"F-fuck." He pulls back with a pop, hands roaming along the tops of your thighs too teasingly for you to handle. By now you're so worked up that you just needed him to take you roughly, the thought of his cock pounding in and out of you making you moan when you feel his bulge brush your leg. God you want him more than you knew it was possible, the way your clit pulses at the thought of how good it would feel to come around him or better yet feel him come inside you overwhelming.

"Seokjin, p-please fuck me." You practically whine, letting your head fall against the couch cushion when his thumbs fiddle with the lace of your panties. "Wanna feel you inside me."

The sound that comes from his throat seems strangled. "Fuck, what did I say about driving me crazy?"

"Need you so bad," You rotate your hips to emphasise your desperation, the action providing you with no relief when his steel like grip prevents you from putting any pressure on your dripping folds. "Wanna cum for you."

You blink up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows a moan. He liked it when you provoked him, you could tell. His resolve is crumbling with every word out of your mouth.

"Please, I'm so wet." Fuck, you are. You can feel it dripping down your ass, probably making a mess of the couch below you. You hope it can be dry cleaned. "Just fuck me now—mmf!"

Seokjin shuts you up with a hard press of his lips to yours, the action conveying he's just as desperate as you, the way his hands trembled telling you he isn't as unaffected as he wants to appear.

His breathing is nearly as ragged as yours now. "You like riling me up don't you?"

He runs a shaky hand through his hair exasperatedly and you look up at him hopeful, willing him to touch you, kiss you, anything.

"I'm not going to fuck you."

Oh.

You stiffen beneath him, his words shocking you still.

He doesn't want you. Simple as that.

This was just another one of his games and you fell straight into it. You close your eyes and braced for him to start laughing. To point his finger and tell you how lame you are for ever thinking that someone like him could want someone like you.

Except nothing comes. Just the sound of your shaky breaths and a shower running nearby.

"Why?" Your voice is small now and you draw your knees to your chest, trying to hide as much from him as possible. "You don't want to?"

He looks dismayed at your suggestion, palms shooting out to push you back down and pull you back into his hold again.

"It's not that, Y/N." You let out a relieved breath, not fighting Seokjin when his forehead falls against your chest in defeat, heavy breaths ghosting across the tops of your breasts. You're sure he can feel the way your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.

"Then why?" You bite your lip. You sound too needy, to whiny. Why do you even care if he wants you or not? This is a one off anyway.

"God, I want nothing more than to strip you and see you bounce on my cock right here"

Oh.

Seokjin's lips attach to your neck, sucking harshly like a man deprived, as though he can't hold back any longer. His hands roam everywhere they can reach, rubbing your breasts over your shirt before his fingers work on the buttons eagerly.

"S-Seokjin..."

"Would give anything to see you come undone on my cock. Bet you'd moan so pretty when I pound you, yeah?"

Truth be told you'd let him right now if he said the word, the thought of him stretching you out making you see stars before he has even properly touched you. Your core is hot and sticky against your panties while you clench around nothing while his every word makes you writhe to be filled. "Then w-why don't you?"

"Because there's plenty of time for that, princess." He flashes you a smile. Plenty of time? Why did he make it sound as if this wasn't a one time thing? As if you'd be back for more? "This is for you remember? Gotta pay you back."

You yelp when Seokjin lifts your ass, thumbs finally dragging your panties down your legs and throwing them behind him before he spreads your legs with a hunger. "Let me taste you, hm?"

Seokjin pushes your skirt around your waist, exposing your core to his hungry eyes, drinking in how you look all spread out for him. Just the sight of him so close to your dripping heat makes the coil in your stomach tighten and you're sure you could cum just from the way his lips part in anticipation.

He looks up at you for confirmation, smirking when you nod your head before falling back against the couch weakly when he drags a finger down your slit teasingly, licking his lips when you mewl at the brief contact with your clit. "So pretty."

He sinks back against his heels, cheek warm against your inner thigh, hot breath caressing your clit. A moan escapes you at the feeling much to his amusement, his bruising grip on your thighs stopping you from bucking up. "Hurry up — mmf — please."

For the first time he listens to your request, skipping the teasing to run a long stripe up your soaking slit. Seokjin groans against your clit and you quiver, his staggered breaths hot against your dripping folds. "Taste so good, sweetheart."

"S-Seokjin," Hands spread your legs as far as they cN go and then plump lips engulf your clit, sucking with a perfect harshness that makes your legs shake and your head fall back with a gasp, hands tangling in his blonde locks tightly enough to have him groaning blissfully. "Fingers!"

The breathiness of your voice makes him chuckle against your heat, vibrations enough to have your knees straining to close around his head, the pressure between them almost too much. "What was that?"

"Fingers," You reiterate, aware of how fucked out you soundjust from feeling his tongue on your clit, every teasing flick making your entrance pulse. "Inside me, now."

"No please?" The drag of Seokjin's flat tongue down your slit to prod at your hole is sinful, the way he took to fucking you with his tongue teasingly drawing small whimpers from your lips. It's mesmerising how he knows just how to make you fall apart.

"P-please!"

The gentle brush of his nose against your clit nearly has you coming on the spot. "Turn over." He growls against your mound. An arm wraps around your waist and before you can protest his mouth leaving your heat, you are being flipped onto your hands and knees, Seokjin's palm pushing your head down against your forearms so that your ass comes up for his viewing pleasure. "That's more like it."

"F-fuck." It feels dirty being on display for him like this, dripping wet and wiggling your hips, desperate for friction against your spread folds. Pressing your cheek to the couch, you catch a glimpse of Seokjin's expression as he takes you in, eyes black with desire, lips still coated in your sticky arousal.

"Shit." His breath hitches. "Such a pretty pussy, hm?"

It's your turn to take a shaky inhale when a single finger circles your entrance, Seokjin humming approvingly when you clench hopelessly around nothing. Knowing you are so close to being filled even with a single finger gets you panting, circling your hips and trying to sink down onto the digit that smears your wetness through your folds lewdly. Seokjin pulls his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"That desperate to be filled, baby?" His tone is taunting, followed by a chuckle when you whine at the way his words make your clit throb. "Fuck, such a slut, dripping wet for just my fingers."

He reaches around to press the pad of his finger against your lips and you suck it instinctively, humming when you taste yourself, some of your sticky arousal smearing on your chin. Seokjin's head rolls back, the visual practically sending him into sensory overload.

"Such a slut," A loud slap fills the room, a palm landing flat against your upturned ass, the sensation making you cry out in surprise. His breath is hot and ragged against your ear. "You like that?"

Despite the embarrassed shake of your head another smack lands to the flesh of your other cheek with enough force to leave a mark this time. It stings when he rubs his calloused hands over the reddening skin that is now burning hot where it collided with his palm but the pain quickly dissipates to pleasure and you bite your hand to stop from moaning out too lewdly. "Use your words, princess."

"Seokjin!" You can't hold back from whining his name when his palm lands straight on your heat, the sharp pain a somehow welcome relief when he instantly rubbed a few soothing circles into your folds with the pads of his fingers, each graze of your clit making your legs shake uncontrollably. "I-I need more."

"This?" Without warning he presses two fingers into your pussy, entrance squeezing around him wildly at the pleasant stretch. Every flick of his wrist permeates through the locker room with a loud squelch, testament of just how worked up you were.

"Ugh!" Every drag of his fingers against your velvety walls has your eyes rolling back, the way he curls the digits with every thrust hitting your sweet spot perfectly, like he knew exactly how to drive you crazy. "S-so good."

You are starting to get out of breath, meeting his thrusts by rocking back against his hand and this time he doesn't protest, encouraging you by kneading the flesh of your ass and groaning in time with the sharp gasps leaving your lips each time the heel of his hand brushes your swollen clit.

"Think you can cum again with just my fingers, baby?" The way you clench around around his digits is a tell tale sign that your second high is close. Just his words alone nearly make you fall over the edge, words slurred as you try to focus on anything other than the unrelenting pulse between your legs.

"N-need more." You sound utterly fucked out, eyes squeezed shut and lost to the feeling of being filled but the stretch isn't quite enough and you need more to tip you over the edge. "Another one."

Seokjin lines up a third finger with your entrance, the ring on his finger cold against your hot walls as he slides it in beside the others at an agonisingly slow pace; to allow you to adjust to the stretch or to taunt you can't tell. By the time he gets to his knuckles your body is wracked with laboured breaths, quivering knees barely able to hold your weight as you bite the inside of your cheeks to curb a string of whines at being finally filled.

Of course, his fingers weren't as good as the real thing and you wonder how he is able to control himself when your mouth waters at the thought of feeling him inside of you instead of his hand.

The room is still a little humid from the showers, a layer of sweat glistening across your skin as you chase your high with determination, the stickiness between your legs dripping down Seokjin's wrist and making him tut, the click of his tongue heightening the sensation.

"That's it, cum for me." The authority lacing his tone tips you over the edge, another smack stinging your ass as you bury your face in the couch with a cry, the feeling of his fingers pumping you through your high almost too much to bare but as soon as they are ripped away and you're left clenching around nothing you miss the feeling of being full.

"So pretty when you cum." Seokjin murmurs. Under normal circumstances you would have been embarrassed, self conscious even with your ass up for anyone to see, release leaking on to the couch, but you're too fucked out to care about anything m, barely able to register Seokjin's new found gentleness as he flips you onto your back and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear while you focus on returning your breathing back to a normal pace.

"Holy shit." The beat of your heart seemsdeafening in your ears, the only other sound you can comprehend being Seokjin's own ragged breathing.

"Fuck, I nearly just came in my pants." When you manage to turn your head he is staring straight at you with disbelief, eyes travelling to your swollen lips. "I'm going to jerk off to this image forever."

"Me too." You murmur honestly.

Your lids fall shut in post orgasm bliss, not expecting the incoming peck Seokjin presses to your parted lips. It is barely a kiss, plump flesh of his lips brushing yours for less than a second but a funny warmth spreads through your chest at the gesture. Seokjin seems as surprised as you, as if he can't quite believe he just did that, shuffling to the other side of the couch to put some distance between you.

"You should uh, get dressed." He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly and turning away to give you some privacy, as if he hadn't just had his head between your legs just a moment ago.

His behaviour, albeit kind of strange, makes you smirk and you decide it won't hurt to tease. "Well, at least now we're even."

Seokjin bites his lip when he turns around to find your skirt back around your thighs, overcome with a new confidence, sauntering over and palming your ass like he owns it. "Nope, not getting away that easily. I think you'll find I made you cum twice. So now you owe me. Again."

"And what do I owe you this time, Kim Seokjin?" You place your hands on his chest, no instinct to push him away for some reason. "Golfing with your brother up next?"

"No," He scoffs. "My brother wouldn't be caught dead with a club."

"Then what?"

You notice the glint in his eye again, the one you are starting to crave. "Let me get to know you."

"Isn't that what you did today?"

He shakes his head. "The real you."

[clydesgod]

The coming

Feat. Richard, Vitalis, Krista

(This is just a lil drabble so, there shouldn’t be any major themes to worry about. just enjoy. Sorry if I there’s some grammar or spelling errors hehe)

As the sun rose from it’s concrete horizon, Richard let out a large yawn as he struggled to put his shirt on. He had been trained on how to do it without anything getting caught on his horns, but it was awfully hard when you took into consideration that Richard hardly remembered much, especially when he just woke up not even half an hour ago. Not only was he changing his shirt, he was also cooking. Fried eggs, soaked in olive oil. Hardly a healthy option but it was one that got him in a good mood in the morning. Well, minus the fact both of the yolks had burst. He didn’t care either way. Sort of.

As he finished cooking them and moving them onto a plate, he couldn’t help but feel a slight hint of dread loom over his shoulders. Was it the hangover? No, couldn’t be. Sure, he felt like trash in a landfill, but he never felt like something awful was about to happen.

“‘Scuseeeeeee me,” asked the shorter demon as he pushed past Richard and his plate so he could open the fridge and raid it, like every morning. “Do we still have any leftovers from last night?”

Richard scoffed, picking up his plate and moving towards the main living room with an almost ragged couch and a plain looking coffee table. “Chinese for breakfast? I’d hardly say peking duck with a side of spring onion is the best choice of food to start the day with.” He commented, sighing somewhat as he looked down at his rather sad looking fried eggs. They’d be good for now anyway. He could easily go to the store later.

“Sorry for being so unclassy mr ‘ramen at 4am’,” Vitalis spat, closing the fridge as he then began to raid the other cupboards. “Surely there have to be some pop tarts here or something. You didn’t throw them away did you?”

“You mean the ones that went out 3 months ago?” Richard replied.

“Yeah. The strawberry ones.”

“Yeah I threw them out.”

The shorter demon groaned, collapsing to his knees and looking down at himself. “I’m going to staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarve!” He moaned  in a very monotone voice. He was always an actor, even to the very end. “I always knew this would be how I’d die. With an empty stomach and whilst my favourite cousin  eats in front of my face.”

Richard, who hadn’t even taken a bite, rolled his eyes and held the plate towards him. “You want these ones then?”

Dropping his sad act, the shorter demon looked up, squinting as he looked over at the plate. “Bleh, as if. Those are the saddest eggs I’ve ever seen.”

“Suit yourself, more for me...I guess.”

“Are you really going to not get me something? Like order a McDonald’s maybe?”

“No. Wait-”

“Aww common. I know you want one of those sausage burgers, or even the pancakes.~”

Richard put his plate and cutlery down, letting it clank against the coffee table. “Wait-”

“Boooooo you’re no fun. I’ll order some but that means I won’t be able to pay for rent for a whil-”

“Shut the fuck up! Didn’t you hear what I said?” Richard turned, his expression which previously looked like he just woke up 5 minutes ago, now looked like he realised where this strange sense of dread was coming from. He stood up, looking around the room as Vitalis started to pick up what he was feeling. He felt it too, through his hunger.

A creak was heard, as if someone was walking right outside the apartment. That shouldn’t even be at all weird, they hear people moving past this place all the time. Why was something off now? Was it the sound of their heels? The way they were moving slowly? No. Something about this person’s aura was ringing alarms in the demons’ heads. Vitalis moved quickly, hiding behind the couch as Richard attempted to follow suit.

A knock was heard. Was this a trick? Surely someone was trying to break in, no? That should’ve been the reason for this strange sense, surely. Richard slowly turned, facing the door. He looked back at Vitalis, who shrugged.

“I ain’t answering’ that fucking door!” He whispered loudly, pointing over behind him. “You go and do it! It’s your apartment!”

Richard gulped, turning his body around as he stared at the door. Why was this feeling familiar? It was like he forgot something and was about to face the consequences of that action. Why though? He sent a birthday card to his granddad last month, what could he be forgetting? He kept moving forward, his hand hesitantly reaching over at the locks as the doorknob fidgeted slightly. Someone wanted to get in.

Another knock. Richard recoiled a bit, but carried on moving on towards the door, undoing all of the security chains and latches he had installed when he first moved in. He was told it was a safe area...but you can never be so sure.

Vitalis had dived down behind the couch, hands covering his head as he awaited a possible fight, maybe a huge explosion? He didn’t know what Richard usually got up so it really could’ve been anything. Maybe even a dragon? Or worse, the landlord. Him and Richard grit their teeth, preparing for anything as the taller demon slowly turned the handle on the door. Who was it? What could he possibly have forgotten? Slowly, he opened the door when-

It stopped. Oh no. The door was jammed, whoever was outside was trying to trap them from the inside. That had to be it. It was one of the villains he had to deal with every day and now they were here to seek revenge and kill-

Oh. Wait. No. Richard looked down, realizing he forgot to undo the last latch to the door. “A-Ah. S-sorry. One second.” He nervously said, unsure as to why he would even let someone know about his current predicament. He quickly undid the last lock, slowly opening the door now. Why did he feel like he had to urgently open this door all of a sudden? As if he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side.

As the door opened, Richard began to ponder quickly on whom it would’ve been. He thought about all of the emotions and feelings leading up to this point. Dread, forgetfulness, worry, haste, urgency, disapointment. He gulped once more, knowing there was one way to find out.

The door opened. Richard had his eyes closed as he had braced himself for whatever was behind there. Strange though, he wasn’t being beaten around at all. That’s what he was sort of expecting. He opened his eyes, slowly at first but then quickly as he recognised that face anywhere.

“W-What are you- how did you even know- how- I- What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think you could get away with that?”

Richard took a step back, gulping before he replied. “G-get away with what?”

“Hmph.

                                       Getting away 

                                                                                        without saying...”

“Hello!” Said Krista, who at this point had just thrown her arms around Richard, trapping him in a hug. She was taller than Richard, but that was mainly thanks to those heels she wore. She hugged him for a while, with Richard trying to push away from her.

Eventually she let go of him, allowing the wrath demon to stumble back and fall onto the couch.

“Mom??? What do you mean??? Since when were you visiting?” He asked, not raising his voice so as to not fear her wrath.

“You didn’t need to know that,” she replied back, closing the door behind her as she entered the apartment, having a look around at the state everything was in. “Oh my goodness, you left this place in a better state than your bedroom at home.”

“Speaking of,” she looked back at Richard, her gaze piercing as she squinted and frowned her brow. “Me, your father, your siblings, and your grandparents, sent you a lot of lovely St David’s day messages on your phone. And what do we get? Nothing. I asked your father, he received nothing. Rhys? Nothing. Gwyneth? Nothing. Your father’s parents? Zilch! And what do I get? An ungrateful son who doesn’t even ask how his dear mother is doing.”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she looked away from her son. Richard, at this point, was looking almost terrified.

“Aaaaaaa-I swear I forgot! I-I had a bit too much to drink last night so the texta sort of went over my head. I was going to reply to them but I just, sort of-”

“Oh don’t you bring up that ‘forgetfulness’ thing again,” she interrupted, looking back at Richard with a huff. “This would never have happened if you stopped drinking like we asked you to do! It’s so unhealthy!”

“...But Rhys is allowed to smoke-”

“Did I say you had permission to interrupt me?”

“I-I mean. S-sorry mom.”

“As I was saying,” she continued, pacing around the room, looking about at everything. “Your dear mother was so worried for you, I decided I just had to pay you a visit. It didn’t help that I had to knock about 3 times. You made me worried sick!”

“I’m so sorry!” Richard replied, clasping his hands together and looking up at his mother as if he was begging for his life. “I don’t mean to make you worry! I swear I forgot. I swear! I promise I’ll reply to every text I get from you and dad!”

Krista stared at Richard for a while, eyes squinting as she loomed over Richard. She looked furious...until her expression suddenly changed as she closed her eyes and let out a brief giggle.

“Alright. I forgive you lil Dewi,” She reached over, patting his head as she moved over onto the couch, sitting herself down and placing a brown paper bag onto the coffee table. “Those are some sad looking eggs dear, so I hope you can forgive me for bringing fast food for you. I know you always love those McMuffin things with that round egg in them.”

“Did someone say McMuffin?” Vitalis said, popping his head up whilst keeping a safe distance away from Krista.

“What did your mother teach you Vitty?”

“...Hello Mrs Clydesgod may I please have some breakfast please and thank you.”

Rolling her eyes, she reached into the bag and brought out a wrapped meal just for him. She reached on over, letting him take it so he could slowly sink down behind the couch.

“Where did you even get that from?” Richard asked, who looked on over at the bag as well. “Er- may I have one too...please.”

“A rather long way to say ‘please’ don’t you think Dewi?” She joked, handing him his own meal. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve already eaten today.”

Having his question unanswered, Richard simply unwrapped his meal and dug in. He was used to being disappointed by the amount of answers his mother was good at not giving him. She wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, wasn’t she.

“I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon by the way.”

Fuck.

“You haven’t spoken to any of your family for quite a while and I think that should be changed. I’m sure your father would agree.” Krista stated, resting her hands on her lap as she looked over at Richard.

“There’s no way Rhys and Gwyneth are going to stay here. There’s no room and I’d rather die than be in the same room as Rhys of all people.”

Krista gasped, placing a hand on her chest as her brows arched upwards. “How could you say such a thing! About your eldest brother too! I thought you and Rhys were good friends.”

“We were until he dated my crush, knowing damn well she was my crush ,15 years ago.”

“Tut tut tut, that’s no good reason as to not interact with him at all.” Krista crossed her arms again, a move that always made goosebumps appear on Richard’s arms. “I will not force them to come. But knowing them, they’ll find their way over here eventually. There’s nothing much you can do about that.”

“Yeah...I know.” He carried on eating, enjoying the breakfast she had brought for them silently.

“Let me know if you need any money for your rent, Dewi.” She added, standing up and taking the brown bag with her.

“W-wait. You’re going already?” He asked, almost choking on a bit of sausage in the process of asking.

“Why, yes! I’m still yet to check into my hotel room! I’ll text you where I’ll be staying if you want to see me or to introduce me to any of your lovely friends!” She made her way towards the door, opening it and pausing at the door way. She looked back, her eyes squinting ever so slightly as she spoke. 

“I do expect a reply this time dear.”

Richard gulped, with Krista closing her eyes and letting out a little giggle. “Hwyl! Bore da!”

“Bore...da...mam…” Upon her closing the door, Richard was left dumbfounded, his mouth somewhat agape as the feeling of dread began to return.

Vitalis peaked up from behind the couch, looking at the coffee table.

“So...are you going to eat those eggs?”

Richard looked back, trying to resist the urge to slap him before resting his head back against the couch and rubbing his face with both hands.

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

[patrickstargang]

The Firelord’s Promise (Kyoshi fic)

Chapter 1: Nomad’s Land

Chapter 2: A Bureaucrat's Word

Chapter 3: Throw Away Your Honor, Rally In The Streets

Chapter 4: Unfortunate Truths

Chapter 5: A Change For The Better

Chapter 6: The Roles We’re Given

Chapter 7: To Save A Life

Final Chapter: I’ll Always Be With You

*this fic contains massive spoilers for Shadow of Kyoshi

The distance from Yokoya to the Fire Nation wasn’t particularly far, but sometimes a sky bison could be unreliable in long distances. It didn’t help that everyone from the estate (minus Aunt Mui) decided to join in on Kyoshi’s “diplomatic” meeting with the Firelord. Even the Flying Opera Company begrudgingly tagged along as back up. They weren’t in support of dabbling with the authorities but they still swore loyalty to their brothers and sisters.

They found themselves in a canyon, the slightly rougher areas of the Fire Nation wilderness that bordered the capital. To get to the capital was about a day’s journey on foot, but it was already nearing dusk. Everyone made camp while the sun was beginning to set.

Kyoshi stood away from the camp, attempting to earthbend, something that should be more than familiar to her. While her state of bending improved since the day Hei-ran arrived at the estate, Kyoshi still found herself struggling with bending. She lifted up a large chunk of the ground in front of her, but it began to swivel around as she tried to push it forward. It was fragile and unbalanced, crumbling before it could make impact with anything. Her face strained as she tried again, feeling like it was more of an effort than it should be.

Rangi noticed Kyoshi struggling, seeing the Avatar having to face the obstacle of basic bending was a sorry sight. But Rangi remembered her promise, and she knew what to do in a moment like this.

She walked up behind Kyoshi, observing the towering girl as she tried to hold another chunk of stone before it collapsed. “Having trouble?”

Kyoshi shook her head with a stoic face. Rangi then stood in front of her with a knowing smirk. “Are you sure?”

Kyoshi then remembered the promise she made to Rangi, to be more honest with her when she needed to. She exhaled, letting the fourth attempt at shifting earth fall to the ground.

“I’ve just been having trouble with bending lately. Like yesterday, I couldn’t even bend a puddle, now I can’t even bend my native element.”

Rangi began to understand the severity of the situation. At first, she thought her superstition about the Avatar not learning the elements in order was becoming true, but she knew that saying that wouldn’t help. So she had other ideas.

Rangi lightly tugged on the sleeve of Kyoshi’s kimono, getting her attention. “How about some firebending practice? This time we can actually start with fire fists.”

Rangi stood back and reeled her arm behind her and swiftly let out a quick but forceful flame from her fist, like a sudden fiery jab. Kyoshi observed, noting the delicate details she might have missed the first time she properly learned the technique. She copied her motions to the best of her ability, only to have produced a light spark from her knuckles. She hid her face in her hands, filled with aggravation.

“I don’t understand! I was fine a few days ago, now it’s like my bending disappeared overnight.”

Rangi’s concern grew, she wasn’t sure if this was something that she could help with. Jinpa stood off to the side listening to their conversation, but after Kyoshi’s last statement he decided to join the group.

“Maybe it has something to do with your chi flow,” said Jinpa while stroking his chin.

Kyoshi remembered her lessons about chi flow at the Air Temples. She learned about its place as the energy that connects all life, more or less the ultimate life source. But she also learned that it is the life force of the bender , giving them the powers they possess. And as a result, she learned about chi block, an instance where bending is rendered almost useless by some physical or mental obstacle. She wasn’t being attacked in any way so she crossed off physical obstacles from the possibilities. All that was left was the more tricky of the two.

“Honestly I’m surprised you haven’t had a chi block sooner, especially with your run-in with the Yellow Necks.”

Kyoshi remembered the injuries she took from her fight with Xu Ping, which should have been a complete block of her chi from everything the Monks told her. Yet she was still able to bend after her recovery. So why was this happening now?

Rangi wasn’t entirely knowledgeable about chi, as it was a concept that was never taught in-depth at the Academy. However, she tried to move the conversation in the right direction. “Is there a way to unblock her chi?”

“Well, one way to do that is to connect to your spiritual side. Sometimes this could mean visiting a spiritual place or something as simple as clearing your mind and emotions through meditation. It all depends on how bad your chi block is.”

It was strange for Kyoshi. In terms of being the Avatar, she still had trouble connecting with the spiritual, mainly since most of her encounters with it left her in dire situations. But this gave her an idea.

“Maybe I can try going into the Spirit World, there's nothing more spiritual than talking with your past lives, right?”

Jinpa thought about it for a moment and quickly nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why it couldn’t work.”

But then an air of doubt came over Kyoshi, she looked down. “But at the same time, I’ve only gotten it to work on rare occasions. The only thing I’ve noticed is that I was able to enter the Spirit World whenever I was in a spiritual place, and as far as I know, there aren’t any spiritual places near he-”

Suddenly, a rustling came from the bushes next to camp that caught everyone off guard. It stopped for a moment before rustling again. It also sounded as if voices were coming from them. At that point everyone became alert. Rangi held out a ball of fire in her hand and Kirima brought a stream out from her water skin, ready to attack. Kyoshi got into her earthbending stance before she remembered her chi block, awkwardly dropping her hands.

Rangi stepped toward the bush, a stern authority in her voice. “Who's there! Show yourself!”

Suddenly, four different people rolled out from the small bush. They were wearing light Fire Nation clothing with long sleeves and carried small bags and satchels. One of them, a somewhat scrawny man with a big beard and spectacles, held up his hands trying to stop the tension.

“Hey, hey, we mean no harm! We didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Kirima raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, then why don’t you explain what you're doing out here in the first place. Who are you people?”

At that moment, Jinpa noticed something about the group. They were all wearing necklaces, more specifically necklaces made from fire lilies. Jinpa’s eyes widened. He moved past Rangi to meet the group.

“You-your all nomads, aren’t you.”

The bearded man smiled at the sudden recognition. “Yes my good man, more specifically we’re Fire Nation nomads.”

Kirimia and Rangi slowly let their guard down, both confused at Jinpa’s interaction. He shook the bearded man’s hand, keeping his polite demeanor.

Kirima walked up to the group of nomads. “That still doesn’t explain what you're doing out here.”

“Why, we’re out on a spiritual journey to find enlightenment. We’re here to find Szeto’s Pillar.”

A feeling of suspicion came over Kirima. “Szeto’s what?”

The bearded man turned off to the side and pointed out into the distance. “Szeto’s Pillar.”

Surrounded by a sea of cooled molten rock stood a towering, monolithic pillar of stone. With its height, it was able to partially block out the sun as it was setting.

The bearded man continued to gaze off into the distance. “During the age of Avatar Szeto, one of the volcanos near the Fire Nation capital was erupting, causing mass hysteria and panic for the people. But Szeto stopped the magma flow from the safety of his stone pillar. Now, these volcanoes will stay dormant for years to come. This pillar has become a sort of sacred spot, a place to stand where one of the great Avatars once stood.”

This gave Kyoshi an idea. Not only did she have a spiritual place to unblock her chi, but this could be an opportunity to speak with Szeto. She was able to contact Kuruk and Yangchen, this could be the next step.

She turned to Rangi, whispering so the nomads wouldn’t overhear. “This might be my chance, if I can get my chi flow back by tomorrow we’ll be able to make it into the capital safely.”

Rangi let out a light chuckle, realizing this was Kyoshi’s way of asking to leave. “You don’t have to tell me twice, go on ahead.”

Kyoshi smiled and kissed Rangi on her forehead before starting a light jog towards the Pillar.

The bearded man halted his conversation with Jinpa to note Kyoshi’s sudden leave. “Gee, your friend there is pretty excited to see the Pillar.”

Jinpa nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, she can be a bit….enthusiastic sometimes.”

The bearded man let out a hearty laugh before surveying the area. “Well, it looks like you're all settled in pretty nicely, I guess our journey can wait till tomorrow. But in the meantime….”

The bearded man and the other three nomads all pulled out jars filled with a strange looking liquid.

“Who wants to drink cactus juice and find spiritual enlightenment!”

-----------------------------

Night quickly came over the canyon, the campfire lit up the darkness and spirits were high. Mostly. The nomads were already in full swing with some of their “spiritual” exercises. Jinpa decided to join in to varying degrees of success. He thought that cactus juice was a spiritual cleanser, like what onion-banana juice was back at the Air Temples. Now he was laughing hysterically at the wildlife and his own airbending while the nomads incoherently argued about who opened the most of their seven chakras.

Kirima and Wong were both amused and terrified at Jinpa’s state. The airbender was known to be somewhat of a stickler for good behavior, but now he had no regard for proper manners. Hei-ran looked as if her soul was leaving her body, watching everything that was unfolding alongside the other two members of the Flying Opera Company. She had her blackboard and chalk but even her words couldn’t communicate the confusion and distaste she felt. Atuat almost tried the cactus juice, but after seeing how Jinpa fared after trying it she decided against it.

Rangi half paid attention to the antics that were taking place, but part of her mind was elsewhere. There was a lot of uncertainty for what tomorrow would hold. Even though she was the Avatar’s bodyguard, she was also part of the Fire Nation military. Now she would have to face the idea of going against her own nation’s leader. She had fought to stop corruption in many other parts of the world, but it was a different beast to deal with corruption in her own home. If Zoryu had not kept his promise, then that means Rangi would have to go against her own code of honor.

But then another thought came to her. She had said before that she wished to share the greatness of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world, but with everything that was happening she was beginning to question how true that “greatness” really was. The more she thought about it, the more it upset her. The Saowan clan was charged not for the few people that were creating pushback, but for the entire clan itself. Chaejin and Huazo obviously had their hand in starting a commotion but there were those who were arrested without knowing what was even happening. It made her stomach churn.

But then she became much more grateful for Kyoshi, she could have pretended that Zoryu’s treatment of the Saowan clan never happened and let them all be imprisoned, or worse. But she didn’t. She became a headache for both Zoryu and the chancellors. The Firelord was trying to make an easy solution for a not so easy problem, which might cause greater harm to his people and his own status than he may realize. Kyoshi wasn’t out for what she believed was revenge, she was out for stopping injustice enacted by those who were the supposed preservers of justice. But the possibility of killing Zoryu was still a thorn in Rangi’s side, the consequences for it could be much greater than the Saowan’s imprisonment. What could Kyoshi be gaining if she went through with it?

Then on that thought, Rangi realized Kyoshi was still at the Pillar even though hours had already passed. She might be having trouble getting into the Spirit World. Rangi remembered her promise to Kyoshi, as she got up from her seat.

She leaned over to Atuat. “I’m going to go check up on her. Could you keep an eye on Jinpa for me?”

The healer chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t embarrass himself...well any more than he already has.”

As she said that, Jinpa was reaching for another glass of cactus juice before Hei-ran took the drink out of his hands and threw it into the bushes.

------------------------------

The terrain of the cooled magma was uneven, like trying to maneuver through a valley filled with millions of small hills. Rangi skipped from the peak of each mound, getting closer to the Pillar. Once she arrived, she noticed a stone stairway around it, one that was built at some point after Szeto’s time. She ascended to the spiraling staircase, noting just how tall the Pillar actually was. Once she made it to the top, she found her Yokoya girl meditating.

At least that's what it looked like at first. As Rangi moved closer she could see the strain in Kyoshi’s brow, like someone trying their hardest to look as if they were at peace. Kyoshi let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes. She turned her head to see Rangi.

“Still having trouble?”

Kyoshi looked back out into the distance, feeling the soft breeze that such a high spot gave her. “Yeah….But I’m still not getting anywhere. I’m the only one who can bend the four elements and communicate with the Spirit World and right now I can do neither of those two things. Some Avatar I am, huh….”

Rangi gave her a concerned pout. “You seem to forget really quickly don’t you,” she said as she shifted to sit beside Kyoshi. “You may think that you have to face your Avatar duties alone, but you don’t. I’ll be here for you, even if I can only help a little.”

Kyoshi’s sardonic tone quickly changed to sincerity. She didn’t forget, but it was still nice to remember that Rangi meant what she said that night. “Thank you….”

“Now, maybe you just need a partner,” Rangi crossed her legs and put her hands together in the same position that Kyoshi was in. “Try breathing with me.”

Kyoshi straightened herself and closed her eyes, waiting for Rangi’s orders. It was like doing Horse stance again, except without the pain in her legs.

“Now do as I do…..In.”

Kyoshi inhaled at her command, letting it linger as long as it needed to.

“And out…..”

She exhaled through her nose. Already she had a greater sense of flow than she had when she was alone.

“In…..”

She inhaled again, she was fully in sync with Rangi. While the Avatar was uncertain of her many bending abilities, she felt comforted by the fact that she still had air on her side.

“And out….”

Kyoshi could feel Rangi’s warmth beside her, every breath like an ember slowly growing its flame. It was relaxing and stimulating at the same time.

Soon the words were fading out, but she still kept into the flow of her breathing before she was doing it instinctually. Sound began to fade out completely, her mind becoming clear. She stayed in that silence for a little bit.

Then she felt a cool air come over her, like that of a mist coming over the mountains. She slowly began to open her eyes, seeing the abstract clouds that enveloped the Spirit World before she heard a voice. A voice that sounded experienced yet rough.

“It’s about time you showed up, you're a few months late.”

[willows-adventures-in-words]

Was gonna post this yesterday but we lost internet for most of the day...

Life is Never what you Expect Chapter 6 word count: 4329

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When Henrik got up the next morning, Marvin was in the kitchen brewing coffee. Stepping in the dining room, Henrik spotted Marvin with his head in the fridge. He was in the midst of a yawn as he stood up, with eggs and an onion in hand, he pushed the fridge door closed with his hip. Upon seeing Henrik, he said, “Sorry, I was hoping to have the coffee done before you got up.” The doctor shook his head as he sat down at the table and told him it was fine. “It'll be just a minute.”

Sure enough a minute later, Marvin brought over a cup of coffee and handed it to the other man. “Thanks.” A hint of sleep could still be heard in his voice. Marvin offered him a smile before heading back into the kitchen.

“Would you like anything else in your eggs?” Marvin asked as he started chopping some onion.

Henrik shook his head and told him, “No. What you have is fine.” Marvin gave a nod. Henrik watched him work, a little impressed at the others skill. Though it wasn't a difficult meal, just eggs and toast, Marvin remained focused on his tasks. His multitasking skills in the kitchen were second-to-none.

It wasn't long before Marvin walked over setting down Henrik's breakfast in front of him. Marvin's hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and he was dressed down in pajama pants and a simple tee. Henrik was dressed quite the opposite seeing as he would be leaving for work within the hour. “Thank you.” He glanced up at Marvin as he sat down in front of him with his own cup of coffee. “You will make someone a lovely wife someday.”

“Okay, you know what? I was going to pack you some brownies to take with you, but now you can forget it mister sass.”

The two shared a look of amusement before Henrik spoke up again. “So Jackie didn't eat them all last night?”

“No, surprisingly,” Marvin stated before taking a drink from his cup.

After a pause, Henrik said, “I do appreciate this. None of us would have a decent meal if it wasn't for you.”

Marvin almost laughed. “You just went from sassing me to showering me in complements.” Then added, “I appreciate you for letting me stay here. So it's the least I could do to help out. Besides, I think the others would be disappointed if I quit. Since they all seem to like my cooking.”

“I'm sorry to say, but it sounds like you are stuck here indefinitely.”

“In that case you're gonna have to start paying me,” Marvin countered.

“I do. One hundred-fifty a week.”

“That's for groceries,” Marvin pointed out.

“I don't ask for the change.”

Marvin paused. “Hm... good point. Then I want a raise.” Henrik laughed. Their conversation dropped and Henrik focused on finishing his breakfast. When he was almost done Marvin spoke up. “You know, I still haven't figured out what Anti likes to eat.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Henrik told him before putting the last of his meal in his mouth. He glanced at his watch as Marvin got up to take care of his plate. Ten minutes before he had to leave. “How is it going with Anti?”

“What do you mean?” Marvin asked as he set the plate and silverware in the sink with the dirty dishes from the day before.

Henrik paused for a second. “What I mean is, is he getting along with you guys?”

Marvin turned back to him. “Henrik. Is something wrong? You sound kinda worried.”

Opening his mouth to speak, Henrik stopped and let out a sigh before getting to his feet. “Sorry. It's nothing. I should finish getting ready.” He started out of the room.

“He keeps to himself a lot.” Henrik stopped. “I don't think he knows how to deal with people very well, but he's trying.”

“...I see.”

Marvin smiled. “Yesterday he hung out with Jameson and I. And from what I understand, he gets along with Chase.”

Henrik, managing to hide his concern, turned back to face his friend. “It seems like Chase considered him a friend, but I do not think Anti feels the same.”

“Oh. Well, I hope Chase doesn't take it to heart. I have a feeling that Anti is the kind of person that has a hard time connecting with people.”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about what Marvin told him. Vampires don't need to connect with people. They just need to be able to act normal. Though, even he could admit that Anti seemed a little off last night. “Yeah, maybe you're right.” He offered a smile. “I'll try not to worry too much.”

As Henrik reached for the door, Marvin suddenly spoke up. “Oh! Just a minute.” Henrik stopped and looked back to see Marvin hurrying back into the kitchen. He came back a moment later with a couple sandwich bags with two brownies in each. That... was unexpected. But felt pleasantly familiar. “Thank you...”

“...Henrik?”

Looking up, Henrik noticed a hint of concern. “Ah, sorry.” He accepted the brownies. Then smiled. “A perfect wife indeed.”

Marvin narrowed his eyes. Pointing to the door he stated, “Get out.” Henrik's expression broke as he started laughing before he finally opened the door. Once the door was closed, Marvin let out a huff before a small smile touched his lips as he turned back around and headed back to the kitchen. It was nice to see him in a good mood though. Since it was pretty rare that Henrik would openly joke around. Especially recently.

He turned on the tap to get started on the dishes. Then he could take some time for himself before he had to consider breakfast for the rest of the household.

A couple hours and a shower later Marvin was back in the kitchen making breakfast for himself and the others. When the meal was finished Anti was still no where to be seen. Chase offered to go check on him as Jackie finished what he was doing in the game he was playing while Marvin and Jameson set the table. The door to his room was closed, so Chase knocked lightly. “Hey, man, you awake?”

“Go away.”

Chase paused before speaking up. “Marvin made breakfast. Did you want to come down?”

“I don't care. Leave me alone.”

He was startled by the tone and, after a moments hesitation, he sighed and started back down the hall wondering if he did something. Last night he acted kind of dismissive or something and now this. It felt like he was pushing him away. But why, he thought they were getting along. Or at least that he cared... “Hey, you alright?”

“Huh. Yeah. Sorry. Uh, Anti said he's not hungry.” The group of four sat down at the table. Stacks of french toast and pancakes sat in the center.

“Do you suppose he's not feeling well?” Jameson asked, a bit of concern in his voice. Jackie shrugged as he stacked his plate with both options. One pancake, a french toast, another pancake with one last piece of french toast to top it off.

“I don't know,” Marvin commented as he just stared at Jackie's plate as the younger man drowned his food in syrup. It looked like a fountain with the syrup spilling over the edges of the top layers.

Chase looked over and laughed. “Dude, that's cool. It looks like a fountain or something.” He then proceeded to put a pancake on top of his two pieces of french toast before adding more syrup.

Jameson turned to Marvin. “I think I will check on him if we haven't seen him in a couple hours.” Marvin nodded and told him that wasn't a bad idea.

“Anyone want to hang out today?” Jackie asked between bites.

Swallowing the food in his mouth, Chase spoke up, “Well, I was gonna go out. Look for places that are hiring. Maybe check out some apartments.”

“Oh. Right,” Jackie muttered. “Wait. I could go with you! We can hang out and I can help you look.” He looked to Marvin and Jameson. “You guys want to come too?”

“Jackie, you don't-” Chase started to say but Jackie jumped in.

“It'll be fun.”

“I'm sorry,” Jameson told him. “I should try to get some writing done.”

“Aw, come on.”

“I guess I could go,” Marvin offered. Turning to Chase he continued. “If it's alright.”

Chase gave in. “Sure. It's been awhile since the three of us found time to hang out.”

“Yes!” The excitement practically radiated from Jackie. He started chattering away about the things they could do. Jackie had acted similarly when Jack was getting ready to move out a few months ago. Marvin glanced over at Chase as he reminded Jackie why exactly they were going out.

Jameson watched them with a smile as Marvin joined in their conversation. It's been awhile since the three had gone out as a group. He wondered how much job searching they would actually get done. Or when they would get home. If he and Anti would have to fend for themselves when it came to dinner. But on the other hand, he should be able to get some of his own work done, since there wouldn't be any distractions in a quiet home.

After the others left, Jameson glanced at the clock. 11:39. He suspected that he would have a good four or five hours before they got back. As he considered what to do with his time, his thoughts went to Anti. Jameson hadn't seen him all day and he couldn't help be a little worried. He supposed that should be the first thing he should do.

Anti hardly moved from his spot on the futon since Jacks' messages. He hated that this all of a sudden bothered him. He'd been... fine. It had been years since he'd lost any chance of being a father. But it still hurt. Even now. And really, his kid had probably forgotten about him long before he died twenty-three years ago. Anti had been there at the funeral; watching from a distance. It had been a gloomy day, no chance of sun. After everyone had left and dusk was approaching, Anti had stepped over to the grave. He said nothing. Just knelt down and rested his head against the tombstone. At that point he wouldn't have cared if the morning sun caught sight of him there.

There was a light knock on his door. Anti didn't move, didn't speak. He had no desire to have company. “Anti..?” It was said softly, though the man who spoke was naturally soft-spoken.

Anti hesitated. Wondered if he should respond. Finally, he sighed then asked, “What?”

“Are you doing alright?” There was a pause and when there was no response he spoke up again. “Would it be alright if I came in?”

He was about to tell him no, and to leave him be. But remembering the message from Jack from last night made him stop. “...Yeah.” Slowly, the door was pushed open.

The curtains were drawn and the light was off. It took Jameson a moment to spot Anti laying on his side, with his legs curled in, on the futon. He stepped closer and paused for a second before crouching down in front of the futon. “Are you not feeling well?” Anti just shook his head. “We had a pancake leftover if you would like to try to eat something.”

“...Okay.” Jameson got to his feet and left to get the pancake.

He's seriously worried about me, Anti realized. It wasn't just some goof two days ago. As he heard him coming back down the hall, Anti slowly moved to sit up. Jameson brought everything. Silverware, syrup, even a napkin. “Sorry, it got a bit cold sitting out. If you would like, I could try to reheat it. Or perhaps make something else?”

“It's fine,” Anti muttered as he accepted the plate. He didn't use the silverware or syrup. Instead he just picked pieces off of it to eat.

There was a moment of silence as Jameson watched him pluck a piece off. “I'd like to join you, if you don't mind the company.”

Anti blinked, momentary confused, as he looked up at him. “Yeah. That's fine, I guess.”

Jameson offered him a smile. “Okay. I will be right back.” He left the room, only to come back a moment later with his notebook and pen. “Would you mind if I turned on your light? It's awfully dark in here.” Anti just mumbled that he didn't care. And so, Jameson switched on the light and the two sat quietly in their own corner of the futon.

After some time past Anti heard Jameson turn the page in his notebook. Looking over, he watched him for a minute. Jameson stared intently as he wrote, lost in his work. Anti tore another piece off of the pancake. He's an interesting man. Anti couldn't understand why Jameson was so concerned about him. Clearly, he didn't need to be. Despite the fact that he was a vampire, they just met a few days ago. They hardly knew each other. Marvin was the same way. Those two seemed to have a number of things in common.

After finishing the pancake, Anti glanced over at Jameson before moving to get up, picking up his phone as he did so. Jameson looked up, momentary concern on his features. Anti let out a sigh. “I'm just gonna take this downstairs.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I'm not sick. Stop worrying.” With that statement, Anti headed for the door.

Jameson jumped to his feet and hurried after him. “Wait a moment. I don't think the curtains are closed.” Anti's stride faltered slightly when he said this. He slowed down as he started down the steps. Jameson was right. Once Anti reached the bottom, Jameson stepped past him and into the living room to close the curtains. When he was finished, Anti let him take the plate, silverware and syrup from him.

After a moments hesitation, Anti stepping into the living room only to flop down on one of the couches. When Jameson walked over he asked Anti if he was sure he was feeling alright. Looking up at him, Anti questioned, “Why are you always so freakin' worried about my health?”

“Oh, I suppose it's something I haven't grown out of.” Taking a seat on the adjacent couch he explained what he meant. “I had a friend when I was younger. He was prone to getting sick, so I suppose I'm naturally worried when someone isn't doing well.”

Anti pushed himself up on his elbows. “Did he die?” Jameson looked over at him, startled by the question and how simply he said it. “You said had a friend.”

“Oh no. We just lost touch after we graduated secondary school.” He paused before he continued in a softer tone. “Though, I suppose it could be possible.”

A silence hung between them for a moment before Anti broke it. “Don't you ever think about finding him?”

Jameson looked thoughtful as he answered him. “I do think about him. Wonder how he is. But to reconnect with him... I would not know where to start. I'm not inept with social media and if I recall he was not fond of it.” He paused before adding, “So I really don't have a way to find him.” Jameson turned his attention fully back to Anti. “But this sort of thing happens. It's unlikely that you keep all of your friends from school.”

Anti was quiet as he turned his attention elsewhere. He heard Jameson tell him that he could play games if he wanted before Anti realized that when he turned away he turned towards the tv. Getting up, Anti stepped over to grab the game he had played the day before. “I will be back in a moment.” Anti glanced back as Jameson started back upstairs. To get his notebook probably. After sticking the game in the system, Anti sat himself back down on the couch. He was only half-listening when the other man came back and told him to let him know if he got hungry. To which he muttered an 'okay', even though he had no intention of doing so.

There was silence between the two. The only sounds came from the game Anti played. Though after an hour past, and the character in the game wasn't in immediate danger, Anti looked to Jameson and questioned, “What are you always writing?”

Jameson was quiet as he continued writing. He suddenly stopped and looked up. “I'm sorry. What did you ask?” A hint of amusement touched Anti's face before he asked again. “A book. I have been trying to write a novel and have it published.”

“Doesn't look like you're very far.”

“Oh no, this is my second notebook. I believe I have over two hundred pages.” He looked down to his notebook. “I hope to finish this one before the story ends.”

Anti turned back to his game. Jameson looked at him curious before turning his attention back to his writing. But before he could continue, Anti spoke up. “Did it take you long?”

Jameson looked up at him. Anti always seemed distant or that he was uninterested. Even though the interactions he's had with him said otherwise, it surprised Jameson nonetheless. “Longer than I would have liked. I was in a creative block and could hardly get anything on paper. Then when I moved here I must have found new inspiration.”

The conversation dropped off. The two were quiet, both doing their own thing. And Anti was content with this. He liked Jameson. The writer made him feel comfortable. But... Anti was wary of getting too close. Of considering him a friend. Because, as time went on, he would just lose him. It was hard sometimes with Jack too. But with Jack, when it became difficult, Anti would just tell himself that he needs him to stay alive. That there was nothing more to it. Sometimes it worked. Other times he would start avoiding him. Jameson getting to his feet grabbed Antis attention. “I'm going to make tea. Would you care for some? Or perhaps something else?”

“...I'm good.” There was a slight hesitation before Jameson left the room and Anti tried to focus on  his game.

When Jameson came back about ten minutes later, he carried a tray that he set down on the coffee table. Anti took a moment to look over. There was the tea pot with two cups as well as a couple different kinds of cookies. His eyes shifted up to meet Jameson's. The man smiled and said, “In case you change your mind.” Anti glanced back down to the snacks and tea before looking back to the tv. Within a few minutes he leaned over and grabbed a cookie.

Jameson took a short break, tea cup in hand, as he watched Anti play his game. When he turned his focus back to his writing, the two kept to themselves. Except for the occasional comment from Anti about the game, which usually caused Jameson to glance up at either the tv or Anti. And Anti, after forty minutes had past reached for another cookie. He did this at every forty minute interval, give or take five minutes. This went on until the others came home at about five o'clock.

As the three friends walked in, Jameson looked up from his work. “How did it go?”

“Great!” Chase answered him cheerfully as he showed off a collection of applications. “I'll get to have my kids in no time.” He took note of the tv and, leaning against the couch Jameson was using, he asked, “Hey, is that the Last of Us?”

Anti, having just saved his game, got up and tossed the remote at Chase, who was startled and barely caught it. “Yeah, have at it,” he stated as he brushed past them and headed upstairs.

“What the hell man.” Chase actually followed him to the stairs. He didn't go after him though. “Why are you suddenly avoiding me?” Chase called out to him but didn't receive an answer except for the sound of a door closing. He turned away from the stairs with a sigh. “Well I was in a good mood...”

Jackie walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, forget about him. It's not like he's staying here for long.”

“Yeah, I know. But, it's just gonna bother me. I mean, what did I do wrong?”

“I think...” Marvin started. “There's just something he's not saying. Some personal-”

Jackie cut him off. “Yeah no shit.” He turned his attention to the living room windows. “Why are the curtain closed anyway?”

“Oh,” Jameson spoke up. “Anti said the glare was making it difficult to play the game.” Jackie let out a huff but didn't respond otherwise.

There was an awkward sort of silence before Marvin broke it. “Well, I'm going to start dinner.” He turned to head into the kitchen before pausing and glancing over to Jackie as he said, “Jackie you wanna help out?”

Jackie blinked as he looked over. “I, guess?” He followed after Marvin. Chase glanced back up the stairs before heading over to the couch.

After they started the prep work, with Marvin giving Jackie some instructions, did Marvin ask, “Jackie, is something wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Marvin paused for a second. “I mean,” he started as he continued his work. “Did something happen between you and Anti? You're acting pretty cold towards him.”

Jackie stopped what he was doing and turned to Marvin. “I'm acting cold? Seriously? He's-” he paused for a second before continuing. “He's the one who's 'cold'. I mean, there's no reason he should act like that. If he didn't want to be here he should've just stayed at Jack's place.” Jackie stopped his sentence abruptly.

Looking over, Marvin's expression turned to concern. “Are you alright? Jackie?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I... Do you still need my help? I forgot about something and need to make a phone call.”

The concern did not leave as Marvin told him, “No, it's fine. Go ahead.” Jackie hardly let him finish before he ran off. Marvin watched him go and heard the front door open then close again.

Jameson and Chase exchanged looks as Jackie ran out the door. “Wonder what's wrong,” Chase thought out-loud.

“I'm curious as well.” Jameson looked up as Marvin stepped back into the room. “What happened?”

Marvin gave a shrug. “I don't really know. But something is clearly bothering him.”

Chase glanced between Marvin and Jameson. “You think it's Anti?” The two looked at him. “I'm just saying. I don't think he was acting weird before he got here. Was he?”

“No,” Marvin sighed. “Should one of us try talking to him?”

There was a bit of silence. “I don't think he would be willing to talk about what bothers him,” Jameson spoke up.

Chase opened his mouth but seemed to change his mind. “What's up?” Marvin asked him.

He shook his head. “I was gonna say he'd probably tell Jack but...”

“We should leave him be. Both of them.” Chase and Marvin looked back to Jameson. “As long as it isn't disruptive, we should let them tell us when they are comfortable doing so.”

“Yeah, you're right. I guess understanding people goes along with planning their death in your sleep.”

Jameson turned his attention to Marvin. “Oh no, I'm very much awake when I do that.”

“Well, I'm marginally concerned.”

“Don't be. You would just be mortally wounded.”

Marvin raised his eyebrow. “Well, it's better than you out-right killing me, so I'll take it.”

“Uh...” Chase glanced between the two. “Do I have to start worrying?”

The two laughed. “No, no. Jameson wrote someone loosely based off me for his book.”

“That does make more sense than how it sounded.” Chase turned to Jameson. “Hey, is anyone else in it?”

Jameson looked down at the notebook on his lap. “Oh. I'm not really sure. If so it was not intentional.”

Marvin looked up at the clock as Chase asked Jameson more questions about his potential book.  “I'm going to work on dinner.” The two on the couch looked over. “I should get it done about the time Henrik gets home. If he doesn't stay late, that is.”

“Do you want help?” Chase asked. Marvin shook his head but thanked him for offering before heading back into the kitchen. His thoughts wandered as he started his work. What was wrong? Did something happen? He didn't like seeing people at odds. It made him uncomfortable. And he didn't like seeing his friends upset, especially if there wasn't anything he could do to help. Marvin hoped this would all get settled soon.

[luv4fandoms]

Earth Angel (GabrielXOFC)

(Part 1)

So this doesn't fully follow the Supernatural timeline, somethings have been changed (like Gabriel's death in the au world cause it was stupid and I refuse to accept it lol) so just a heads up. This is also inspired by @askpsychocas 's Angel Courting Ritual post (which I use in my story. Askpsychocas if you want me to take those parts out let me know and I will). This story also has a Scott Pilgram vibe lol.

(Also if anyone knows how to do the "Keep Reading" thing on the mobile app can you let me know? Cause I can't figure it out)

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this story let me know.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Warning: Cussing, killing, slight mention of torture.

Word count: 5,668

https://ko-fi.com/luv4fandoms

(From @askpsychocas 's angel courting ritual)

Step One: Recognize your intended.

Angels are warriors, no matter what rank. Most are attracted to strength of will and faith in their cause. Bright plumage is often utilized. Angels either grow in brighter feathers or they naturally change colour in order to lure in intended mates. Large, well-groomed wings is a sign of vitality.

Obviously, this is a step both modern and traditional courting rituals use.

"Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine?

My darling dear, love you all the time

I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you"

I sang along as I drove down the road, my latest case bringing me back to my childhood state of Florida. There had been at least three people turn up dead recently, all with their hearts missing, so originally I thought it would be a werewolf, but there have been more and more people talking about the recent "Dogman" sightings...So...Skinwalker maybe? Either way, off I drove from the case I just finished up in Alabama, back home. My stomach growling loudly was the only other noise beside the radio and the car, and it was my indication that it was time to stop in at my favorite diner.

A few more miles and I was pulling into the parking lot of "Sally's diner" a small little place off the beaten track, one you wouldn't find unless you knew about it or were taking the scenic route, but it was a diner that hadn't been touched by time since it opened back in the 50's, and it was a place I visited often when near. Once I parked I noticed a very familiar vehicle a few spaces down, and I couldn't help the smile that formed. Quickly stepping into the diner I was greeted with the smell of fresh brewed coffee and cooked onions...Ah...Home.  Looking around I spotted who you knew would be here, the owners of that familiar car, Sam and Dean Winchester, but what really caught my eye was the person sitting with them,or rather the giant pair of gold wings that sat with them. I looked around, but no one seemed to notice them.

'How does no one notice them?! Ok...maybe only hunters can see them? Maybe he makes them only visible to us...yeah it has to be something like that, just shrug it off Liz'

I mean, Sam and Dean seemed to be getting along with whoever it was...somewhat well...Ok they looked kinda annoyed, Dean more than Sam. So the...Being couldn't be that bad,right?

Heels clicked across checkerboard floors as I made my way over to their booth, the stranger's voice reaching me as I drew closer.

"Come on Dean-o, you love me and you know it" 

"I swear Sam I'm going to kill him" Dean muttered while Sam just shook his head.

"I thought I recognized that beauty out front,and I don't mean my car" I smiled, finally reaching the booth and catching the attention of all three men. The boy's smiles matched my own as they quickly stood from the booth.

"Long time no see" Dean smiled, hugging me tightly before releasing me to Sam who was quick to get a hug in as well.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Good, just came off a job, though I'm guessing we're here for the same reason" I laughed.

"And who is this beauty?" The new voice spoke again, this time when I turned I could fully see the owner, and well...I was not disappointed. Golden brown hair swept back over a face that couldn't have been much older than the boys, whiskey colored eyes filled with mirth, and...something else, and a smile that was both inviting and also showed mischievousness. To say that the man...Being...was gorgeous would be an understatement, and the golden wings really suited him, both in appearance and, what you suspected to be a very flashy, playful personality.

"Well hey there sweetie, they call me Liz, nice to meet you" I smiled, holding out my hand for him.

"Nice to meet you too" he smirked while taking my hand and kissing the back on it, his eyes never leaving mine before he gave me a wink.

"Ok ok that's enough Gabriel" Dean spoke, causing Gabriel to let go of my hand and me to laugh.

"So, what's a beautiful classy lady like you doing hanging out with these two lumberjacks?" Gabriel asked, scooting over and patting the seat beside him, I sat down before Sam or Dean could protest, but made sure to watch out for his wings, it was bad enough the poor guy was tucking them as much as he could, I didn't wanna sit on them by accident.

"They helped me out on a case a few years ago, we've just kept in touch ever since" I shrugged

"They help when I need it and I help when they need it," I added with a  smile.

"Wait...You're a hunter?" Gabriel asked, looking honestly shocked.

"What? Women can't be hunters?" I teased, he opened his mouth to speak before someone chimed in.

"Here are your drinks, your food will be out soo- Liz! It's good to see you!" The young waitress smiled, Maddie and I were good friends since I started coming to the diner, after I politely publicly embarrassed and pretty much shamed a dude who was grossly hitting on and harassing her.

"It's good to see you too sweetie" I smiled, leaning up to hug her when she leaned down.

"Just passing through again?"

"I may be staying a couple of days this time" 

"Well we are always open for you" she winked before asking

"Your usual?"

"You know me so well Mads" I smiled, she smiled back and with a nod turned to leave.

"You must come here often" Sam laughed

"As often as I can when I'm near" I smiled.

"So, back to the fact that your friend here doesn't think girls can be hunters" I smirked.

"Now I never said that" Gabriel defended himself which caused Sam and Dean to crack a smile.

"I just mean...You don't...there seems to be a uniform with this type of work"

"Flannel?" I asked with a laugh.

"Exactly! And you...Well" he gestured to my figure, my blue polka dotted 50's style top, black cigarette pants, and small heels. my makeup light except a winged liner and bright red lips...it was true...I didn't look like a hunter.

"Sorry, I left my plaid dress in my bag" I smiled.

"I'll take it as a compliment though," I added, giving him a wink.

"So you're saying Liz is too pretty to be a hunter?" Sam asked

"Oh don't worry Sam, you're pretty too" I smiled causing him to chuckle.

"Isn't he though? I keep telling him that" Gabriel teased and I couldn't help but laugh at it, especially when Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Ok now that we have established that Liz and Sam are both pretty" Dean started, earning a glare from his brother.

"I'm guessing you're here for this case too," he added.

"Yeah,though I'm a bit stumped" 

"What's there to be stumped about, classic werewolf" Dean stated.

"See that's what I thought too, until I noticed all of the Dogman sightings being reported recently." I started, leaning onto the table to lower my voice.

"Wait Dogman, really?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Mock all you want to, but I know a hoax from real and Dean, we don't have another moon landing on our hands here"

"Skinwalker?"Sam suggested

"Possibly, but I've never seen one like this, legit looked like the classic wolf on two legs deal" I stated, leaning back in the seat when I heard footsteps approaching. 

"Here you are! One bacon deluxe burger, one complete breakfast combo, and two mega waffle plates. And here is your coffee Liz" Maddie smiled.

"Thank you" Sam and I smiled, Dean already eating, Maddie nodded and left again, I turned to pour syrup onto my waffles when I noticed eyes on me, turning my head I was met with wide eyes and a smile.

"Yes Gabe?" I asked before returning to my syrup task.

"Nothing just...Where have you been all my life?" He asked, causing me to laugh while cutting into my waffles.

"Mostly in Florida" I shrugged

"Until later on, then...well...then I guess it was just catch me if you can" I winked, popping a piece of the sugary goodness in my mouth and giving a small moan at the flavor.

"Still the best waffles ever" 

"So we are thinking what? New monster? A-a skinwolf? Werewalker?" Dean asked.

"Possibly?" I answered

"A werewolf and skinwalker danced the lambda?"Gabriel asked, I simply shrugged.

"Love is love, who are we to judge what two different species do" 

"Yeah expect when that offspring starts killing people"

"Well one good thing, silver kills them both" Sam replied

"There we go, Sam always coming in with the silver lining" I spoke.

"Pun intended?"Gabriel asked before taking another bite.

"Happy accident" I smiled.

As I ate I noticed that neither of the boys mentioned Gabriel's wings, even as they twitched and ruffled from being constrained for so long, poor guy, I hoped it didn't hurt. But the fact that no one had brought it up made me wonder if it was rude to mention them? Or was this such a common occurrence that they were simply used to them? Either way I watched them spread a bit wider while Gabriel stretched once the four of us were outside the diner, I could see now that the color wasn't simply gold, but an array of gold-ish shades, going from a dark gold almost bronze at the base of each feather, up to an almost honey color at each tip. They did shine a bit in the sun but they weren't the glittering gold I had originally thought they were. Though, even in their half stretched state I could tell that they were massive, and if unfurled fully would be very intimidating.

"So, until we know what we are dealing with, why don't you let us handle it" Dean started, but I quickly cut him off.

"Uh no. We ain't doing this damsel in distress thing, I can hold my own just as well as you two can and you know it. And besides, you know this town? These people really well?" After a moment of silence I continued.

"Exactly, so I'm part of this case like it or not" I finished, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You tell em sweetcheeks!" Gabriel spoke, walking up beside me. I noticed now that we weren't sitting, due to my heels I was a few inches taller than him.

"So where is the scooby gang off to first?" He asked.

"Ok fine!" Dean sighed.

"Dean why don't you and Gabriel go to the morgue and Liz and I-" Sam started before Dean and Gabriel both interrupted.

"No I am not getting stuck with him" came from Dean while

"Hey hey how come you get Liz?" Came from Gabriel.

"Hey, the only reason you're even here is because Cas suggested that we take you along" Dean pointed at Gabriel who simply rolled his eyes and looked away from Dean.

"Ok Sam and Dean you two go talk to the families, you're better at that, Gabriel and I will go check out the stiffs" I smiled before turning and making my way to my car before they could say anything. I looked back at Gabriel but found him right beside me.

"I love a woman who can take charge" he winked, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hunting with those two, you have to, otherwise they steal all the action" I smiled while climbing in the driver seat, I noticed that Gabriel hesitated to climb in, and for a moment I wondered if he was afraid of my driving, but upon leaning over to tease him about it I noticed him looking at my car. I knew she was a beauty, a white 1958 Chevy Impala with gold accents, our cars were the first thing Dean and I bonded over. But what really seemed to be holding his attention was the gold pinstriped wings and name of my car...Angel.

"See something you like?" I giggled, catching his attention as he looked through the window at me, a smile forming before he opened the door and hopped in.

"And soft seats" he said while moving around.

"You really know how to spoil a guy"

"What can I say? I like to treat my men well" I chuckled while backing out of the diner and making my way to the morgue.

"So what was that about someone suggesting that the boys take you along for a ride?" I asked after a moment.

"Ugh, my little brother Cas decided that it would be a grand ole time if I tagged along with Scully and Mulder, said it would be a good bonding experience" he explained. 

"And is it? Do you feel bonded?" I giggled.

"I wouldn't mind bonding with you" he smirked, wiggling his brows and earning another laugh from me. 

"Sorry sweetie, I ain't that type of gal" I replied while pulling up into the parking lot. 

"So is this where we get to pull out our fake badges and pretend to be the FBI?" He asked, raising his hand like he was about to snap his fingers.

"Nope,this is the part where the sheriff knows that I'm a hunter and anything weird that comes in I get a call about" I smiled while stepping out.

"Aww, I wanted to play criminal minds" he pouted, and I had to admit, he could rival Sam in adorableness. 

"Sorry sweetie, maybe some other time" I patted his shoulder before leading the way. Just as I had said, the sheriff let us look at the bodies right away, and yeah...All signs pointed to either werewolf or skinwalker. 

"Well it looks like I'll have to get my silver bullets ready" I sighed while pulling the sheet back on the third vic, Gabriel walked around the room, looking at random things, and for a moment I watched his wings easily avoid everything they might hit before I turned my attention back to the body.

"You really don't have a problem with any of this do you?" Gabriel asked from across the body.

"An innocent person dead? Yeah I got a lot of problems with it"

"No not that, this" he gestured to the body

"Looking at dead bodies, hunting monsters, most women I've met wouldn't go near this kind of stuff"

"Sweetie no offence but it sounds like you've been hanging out with little girls then, not women" I smirked while meeting his eyes, his wings ruffled behind him in almost a shiver motion, jerking slightly open for a split second before hiding behind him again. 

"You know...Maybe you're right" he spoke, his voice quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself instead of me. I tore my eyes away from his to look back at the body, a young girl, no older than nineteen, heart gone and a lot of her guts too.

"Wait" I tilted my head trying to get a better look at what was attached to where her intestines used to be. 

"Hand me those tweezers please" I asked Gabriel, motioning towards the table behind him. He quickly handed them to me and I plucked the strange fibers off of the body.

"Well agent, any ideas?" Gabriel asked.

"That my lovely partner...Is wolf fur" I stated before adding

"So skinwalker"

"Or Dean-o was right and we are dealing with a skinwolf" Gabriel replied.

"Let's stick with werewalker" I spoke, pushing the body back into its freezer and tossing the gloves off on my way to the door.

"Skinwolf sounds like some really weird porno you'd find on the wrong side of the internet at like one in the morning" I laughed 

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, something you'd like to share with the class?" 

"Trust me, no, I'll leave all the weird stuff to my family" I told him before calling Dean to tell him what we had found, he explained that all three of the vics had gone hiking out at the major state park where their bodies were found. So I agreed to head there and we'd all check it out.

"So you're family, they hunters too?" Gabriel asked when I pulled back out onto the road.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours" I smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye. I was hoping maybe some info on his family would help me figure out what he was because honestly the wings were throwing me. My first thought of course was an angel but...I had never met one before...I suppose there could be angels out there, perhaps in hiding or fallen, but if he was hiding why did he show his wings to every hunter? So maybe he was something else? His wings were sure majestic enough to be angelic that was for sure, I had noticed it when you left the police station, the way his wings seemed...brighter almost. They were lighter in color, the base of each feather now a burnt gold instead of bronze, to a lighter honey color at the tips, but what caught my eye was how much more they shined than they did at the diner.

'Maybe the color is attached to his mood?'

"Not much for me to say sweetcheeks, brothers are douches, love em to death but, and dad...dad left a while ago"  he stated, his voice lowering at the last part.

"Yeah my dad left a while ago too" I nodded.

"Is that the reason you started hunting?" He asked.

"Partially, after he left my mom got back together with her first husband..he's a hunter so..didn't take long for all us kids to get into it"

"How many siblings you got?"he asked

"Six counting step siblings. Got one half brother, two blood brothers, a step brother and step sister" Gabriel let out a low whistle that made me laugh.

"Yeah I know, the kicker, I'm the youngest out of them all" 

"Yeah me too, but, that just means that we are the final perfect outcome, all the others were just prototypes" he said with a wave of his hand. I couldn't stop the laugh even if I wanted to, and the look on his face almost made me wonder if his whole goal was to do just that.

"I am so using that at the next family gathering" I told him once I had finally caught my breath.

"So…"Gabriel started after a moment of silence.

"Have you ever wanted to do anything other than hunting?" He asked

"Don't really know" I shrugged

"I've been doing this since I was nine so" I stated.

"So? You've got your whole life ahead of you! Come on, ever wanted to travel?" He asked

"I do travel" I smirked, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Outside of the country, France, Italy, places like that"

"Oh, yeah I guess I always wanted to visit like England. But work keeps me pretty busy, and it's not like hunting really pays the bills" I laughed while pulling up into the park's entrance near Dean's car. You heard Gabriel mumble something as I got out, but it was too low for me to understand, and Dean started talking as soon as I got out. 

"So what did you find out?"

"That you may actually be right" I replied as I made your way over to them.

"That doesn't happen often" Sam joked, earning a glare from Dean.

"The vics were all missing hearts sure, but I found fur on one of them as well"

"Could just be an animal that left that" Sam added

"Wolf fur? Gray wolf fur? Not here in Florida" I replied

"How do you know it was wolf fur?" Dean asked

"My stepdad hunts, more than just monsters, I know my fur" I laughed. 

"Ok well, everyone have their silver?" Sam asked, to which I showed my two loaded pistols and knife. He and Dean nodded before leading the way, leaving Gabriel and I to trail behind.

"You always carry those around?" He asked, nodding towards my weapons.

"Always best to be prepared" I winked, watching as a smile spread on his lips and his wings ruffle behind him. I found myself once again curious about them, were they attached to his emotions? Could he move them like an actual bird? Or did they just kinda do their own thing? They were the same colors as in the car but now with the bright sunlight peeking through the trees, they shimmered much more when you weren't looking right at them, like only if you caught them out of your peripheral did they look like metal. The hike was fairly quiet, the sounds of our collective footfalls and the creatures of the forest the only things meeting my ears, nothing seemed out of place-until we all reached the middle of the park. I knew that there was an old ranger station out this far, had been since the park was zoned, but a while ago they decided to make a new ranger station closer to the trailhead and exit, figuring it would be better than in the middle if someone were to get lost out here. The sounds of a branch snapping behind us had both Gabriel and I turning to look, but not being able to see anything. 

"Gabriel?" Sam asked quietly while surveying our surroundings. 

"There's something there," he replied, eyes darting around the treeline. 

"Just one?" I asked, slowly reaching for my gun.

"No, there's four of them," he stated.

"Four?" Dean asked just before something lunged at him, knocking him over and causing him to let out a grunt.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, turning and shooting the beast as it pinned Dean, jaws snapping at his face while he pushed back. One clip in and finally the thing fell over, motionless beside Dean who quickly got up.

"What the hell is that?!" Dean shouted, wiping the things blood from his face.

"Werewalker" I replied, looking over at the beast who did in fact resemble the beast from every werewolf movie I had seen. The body not quite human but not quite wolf, shaggy gray fur covering the stretched skin, hands and feet now clawed appendages, and the face having a long snout filled with long sharp teeth. 

"Ok that...That isn't natural" Dean spoke, finally regaining his breath.

"Well one good thing, your gunshots and girlish screams chased the other three off" Gabriel stated, still looking around.

"I did not scream" Dean quickly defended, to which Gabriel simply smirked, man he really loved messing with them, and honestly it was quite comical how easily he could do it. 

"We need to find the others" Sam quickly spoke, getting everyone back on task.

"There is an old ranger station not far, that might be their hideout" I told them, already stepping ahead, we needed to get this done, and we needed to do it quickly, if these things got out of state it could lead to a trail of bloody bodies and fast. Gabriel quickly caught up, flanking my right but also slightly in front, the boys on my left. Man if a girl ever wanted to feel protected this was the group to hunt with. About fifteen more minutes of hiking and we could see the collapsing roof of the old station. The building had long since started to decay, broken windows from rowdy teens, and holes in the walls and roof from most likely the same cause. 

"Anything?" I asked, glancing over at Gabriel who's eyes were focused on the building.

"Two inside" 

"Werewalker or?" I inquired further, watching as he focused.

"One's just a skinwalker...The other" he started, trailing off as his eyes widened before he muttered "shit" just as something could be heard running through the trees to our right. Quickly pushing Gabriel aside I unloaded my clip into the beast as it leapt from the brush, dodging it as it's limp body fell to the ground where I had been standing. I was about to ask if he was ok when we heard more noise from our left, Sam and Dean were only able to get a few shots off before they found themselves thrown, Gabriel ran over, an odd silver blade in hand as he began to fight one of the beasts. I reached for my other gun, about to go help when I found myself face first on the ground, a weight holding me down as a growl echoed behind me.

"You stupid hunter bitch!" She yelled, before her weight left my back and I felt her gripping my collar, I reached back to grab her hand but soon I was sent flying. My body collided with the tree before I even felt it, a grunt slipping past my lips as I hit the ground. 

"Liz!" I could hear Dean yell while I tried to fight off the dizziness. 

"You three will not interfere!" She shouted, before letting out a whistle, which was soon followed by the growls and heavy footfalls of more beasts. Who the hell was this woman? Finding my balance I rose to my feet, gun in hand and pointed towards her before she turned to look at me again, a smile on her face revealing sharp teeth. She wasn't the same as them...she was just a werewolf.

"That's cute" she spoke, turning fully towards me now.

"So what did he tell you huh? Or did he just give you a fun night and you were hooked?" She asked, slowly advancing towards me.

"What?" My face showed true confusion at her words, what the hell was she talking about?

"Gabriel" she stated, as if that would explain everything.

"He won't stay, he'll just up and leave one day, no goodbye, no anything" she added...oh...oh she thinks.

"And you'll look everywhere for him, cause he was the only one that ever made you feel alive"

"Listen lady, I don't know what you think, but he and I just met today," I explained.

"Doesn't matter, you're an obstacle, and I'll be damned if I lose him again"she spoke, bolting forward and grabbing my gun before I could get off any shots, her other hand grabbing my wrist and slinging me into a nearby tree. I could hear more gunfire, everyone else still struggling with the werewalkers as I tried to grab my knife.

"Oh no you don't!" She yelled, punching me in the stomach before throwing me back towards the station. I gasped for the air I had lost upon impact, when her face came into view again, her body pinning mine down as her mouth stretched into a smile. I glanced around, Gabriel, was helping Sam finish off one beast while Dean quickly killed another, but what caught my eye was the silver knife nearby, within arms reach, it looked just like the one Gabriel held but he still had his, so this must have fallen off one of the boys? At that moment I didn't care, looking back at the woman as she hovered closer.

"You know, I would turn you, make you one of my pack, but you see...You'd still be in the way..so I think I'll just kill you instead, easier that way" she spoke, mouth opening and starting to lunge forward when her body halted, mouth slowly closing while her eyes widened and she leaned back, examining the blade that now protruded from her ribcage.

"You're right killing is easier" I told her, watching as she slowly fell to the side, her body still as I yanked the blade out of her heart. I pushed her body fully off of me and stood, looking over at the boys who looked just as disheveled. I turned back to the station, remembering Gabriel had said there was a skinwalker in there as well, but the sight I was met with wasn't what I was expecting. A young boy, no older than eighteen was chained to the wall, the lower half of his body already changing to that of one of the beasts. 

"What the hell?" I heard Dean's rough voice ask beside me, we all looked at the kid, barely breathing and too weak to even open his eyes, but somehow found his voice.

"Please" he begged, his pitiful noise causing my eyes to tear up.

"Don't let me become like them" he added, we all looked at him for a moment, this poor kid, life barely begun and he was already a skinwalker...Now he was becoming...Something even worse. I looked away as Dean lifted his gun, seeming to be the only one that had the will to give into the kids request. The sharp sound of the shot rang out and my body jumped a bit, before feeling a hand rest on my shoulder, I looked up to be met with a comforting honey gaze and I nodded at his unspoken message 'it was for the best'.

 Night had fallen by the time we had dug a hole big enough to put all the bodies in and we stood for a moment after Dean threw the match.

"So..I have a question" I started.

"I have a lot- Like who the hell was that?" Dean added as we all looked at Gabriel, who never took his eyes off the fire.

"Her name was Sophia, we met...a while ago"he started

"We had a fling for a bit and then it ended, I'm all for getting crazy, but she was an animal in bed" he added, trying to lighten the mood, but if the resting bitch faces Sam and Dean were giving him were anything to go by, it wasn't working.

"So you mean I almost got killed by your crazy ex girlfriend?" I asked, arms crossed.

"One, I didn't think I would ever see her again, and two, your handled yourself beautifully sugarplum, even against an alpha, you two boneheads need to take notes from this one" Gabriel spoke, gesturing towards me, but his last quip wasn't what caught the boys ears, or mine.

"Alpha?!" I asked, looking down at the now burnt body.

"That was an Alpha?" Sam asked, eyes never leaving Gabriel's form while Dean looked upset.

"Liz just went toe to toe with a fucking alpha?" 

"And she won! She's a lot tougher than she looks." He smiled, walking up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. 

"You son of a-" Dean started but I cut off his no doubt, bloody rant about killing Gabe.

"That's how she was turning them so easily, the Skinwalkers" 

"Seems like it, Sophia always said she would do anything to make her pack strong again"Gabriel confirmed.

"I wonder if the bunker has anything about alphas doing stuff like this in the past" Sam spoke, by his quiet tone I knew he was speaking more to himself than anyone else but his words made my ears perk up.

"Bunker?" I asked.

"Yeah it's…" he started but seemed unsure on how to proceed.

"Our home" Dean provided, looking over at Sam.

"Home" I nodded, sure I had a family, but home wasn't something I had for a while. We kinda jumped from safe house to safe house making sure everyone was ok. As if sensing my declining mood, Gabriel draped his arm around my shoulder, the body heat seeping through my cardigan and warming the skin I hadn't even realized was cold. But what really caught my attention was the golden wing that also came to wrap around me as well, the fire causing a more orange glow to overtake the gold, but they still shimmered in the flickering light, and they almost seemed...Fuller. 

"How about we go grab some food, I know I could eat, how about you sweets?" He asked, his face inches from mine as I watched the light of the fire dance across his honey gaze, almost causing them to become the same color as his wings. 

"Yeah, I could eat" I nodded.

"Alright, let's head out"Dean spoke, turning to leave. 

"And uh, if you don't have any more cases...You can come back to the bunker with us, there's plenty of room" Sam suggested, Dean looking back as they both waited for my answer, I thought for a moment, all I really did was travel from case to case, it would be nice to rest for a bit. 

"I'd like that" I smiled, Sam's grin mirroring mine while Dean gave a small smirk. We all began to walk towards the trailhead but I noticed that Gabriel hadn't followed, looking back I noticed he was still by the fire, staring at the now pile of ashes.

'He must be remembering the times he had with her' I thought, and for some reason that thought made my stomach feel uneasy, confused I pushed those feelings aside, they didn't make sense anyways, instead my gaze landed again on Gabriel before I called out.

"You comin' sweetie?" My voice seemingly knocking him out of whatever trance he was in because his head soon lifted so that our eyes locked once more, but this time there was something different in his stare and I watched as his wings rose high above him, stretching out to their full size. The thick mass of feathers glinting in an unearthly way in the flickering light, and for a moment it didn't seem like I was looking at a human form, instead I could almost make out a golden light, something that both held form and didn't, something that seemed ancient and unknown. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered for what felt like the hundredth time today just what he was. Our stare never broke, and I realized what I was seeing lingering in his stare...Determination.

I hope everyone enjoyed part 1! Let me know what you think! Please stay tuned for part 2 and if you would like to be added to a tag list for this story let me know!

[searchingwardrobes]

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 6/11

In different realms, Emma and Killian still think of the other as they search for something to fill in the hole in their hearts.

Yes, Emma and Killian are still separated in this chapter. Before you yell at me, though, this chapter also shows how often they still think of one another. Bear with me, I swear, all of this will make sense later, and I promise a great (steamy) payoff ;)

This chapter also introduces more of our favorite Once characters both in Neverland and the Land Without Magic. Emma does end up in Storybrooke, but I will go ahead and make something abundantly clear: it is an ordinary (albeit quirky) small town in this story. Some of the scenes in the Neverland section may sound familiar to some of you. I have had head canons for ages about Killian’s backstory with the fairies and with Wendy which I explored previously in fics that I have since deleted. They have been resurrected here, which I love because they are now fully fleshed out and in my own au! Anyways, I hope you enjoy my au versions of these characters.

Once again, massive thanks to the mods in the @captainswanbigbang​ fo organizing the CSRT especially @optomisticgirl​ who helped me handle self-doubt and writer’s block. B also was invaluable as a beta and in Discord chats as I tried to figure out how magic would work in this au. My other beta, @shippingtheswann​ whipped this chapter into shape, pointing out sooo many plot holes. Girl, where would I be without you?

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: Almost 6k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 19

The taxi drives off behind her, and Emma startles, grasping the straps of her meager duffel bag tighter as she looks up at the quaint inn before her. The small wooden sign out front swings in the breeze: Granny’s Inn. Behind it, facing the opposite street, is Granny’s diner. The two are attached by a stairwell. Convenient, since Emma will be working there.

She hoists her bag with a deep sigh as she walks up the stone steps leading to the inn. In her jacket pocket is the recommendation letter from her parole officer. She doesn’t think she’ll need it, but she has it at hand just in case.

A bell rings over the door when she enters, and an elderly woman with white hair and bifocals perched on her nose bustles out. With a pang, Emma thinks of Martha so long ago, though this woman has a stern look on her face, almost a scowl, that Martha never would have borne upon her countenance.

“Need a room?” the woman asks, all business.

“Um,” Emma hesitates, fishing the letter out of her pocket. It’s crumpled from the cab ride, and she feels a bit foolish as she holds it out like it’s proof or something. “I’m Emma Swan.”

“Oh!” the woman cries out, flinging both hands in the air as she bustles around the check-in desk. “My apologies. I was expecting you this evening.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think -”

“No trouble at all.” She glances at the paper in Emma’s hand. “I don’t need that, I’d know you from Marco’s description.”

The woman heads for the stairs, gesturing for Emma to follow. The inn is warm and homey, with vintage wallpaper and wall sconces illuminating the stairs. She follows the woman to the second floor and down the hall to room 210.

“This has a view of Main Street,” she tells Emma as she pulls an old fashioned key from her apron pocket and inserts it in the lock. “It’s a suite with a little sitting area and kitchenette, though you’re welcome to take your meals in the diner. On the house, of course.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Oh, but I couldn’t. It’s your business.”

Granny waves her off. “I know a waitress’s salary isn’t much. How are you ever to get back on your feet if you have to spend every dime just to live? Besides, it was all in the agreement I sent you.”

Emma just nods, still nervously clutching her duffel. She doesn’t want to tell her that she didn’t actually read it. All the fine print and the legal jargon had made her head spin. Marco had said it was the best deal for a girl like her, and how many options did she have, anyway?

“Storybrooke is a nice little town,” Granny says as she pulls the curtains open to let in more light. “The last girl I helped, Ashley, ended up staying. She’s even engaged to a nice young man who works at the cannery.”

Granny comes closer, studying Emma’s face carefully. “Ashley was pregnant when she came. Marco told me you just gave up a baby. I want you to know, I’ve been there. Back in my day, they just shipped me off to a convent and ripped my little boy from my arms. I didn’t even have a say.”

Emma glances away nervously.

“Oh, I know you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve said my piece, and I won’t bring it up again. Just know this is a safe place, and I’ve got your back. And I don’t answer to anything but Granny, okay?”

Before Emma can say anything else, the woman is gone. Emma sinks down on the antique sofa situated in front of the fireplace. She feels out of place, out of sorts. Granny seems nice, and it’s clear she means well, but Emma isn’t staying here. Once she’s saved up enough money, she’s getting as far away from Maine as she possibly can.

Tallahassee still sounds nice.

**************************************

Emma stands in front of the large, mahogany piece of furniture, her dry toothbrush dangling from her lips. It doesn’t look like the one from when she was ten and sixteen: the carvings are far more ornate, and the trim is all wrong, yet her fingers itch to open it and her heart rate picks up just a bit. She’s just about to reach for the little pewter knob when a knock sounds on the door. Emma opens it to find Granny standing there with towels in her arms.

“Thought you might need these tonight,” she says, bustling in without an invitation. “You’re not a guest but an employee, so washing these is your responsibility. The laundry is in the basement. Do you know how to do laundry?”

Emma nods.

“Good. Ashley turned her sheets pink.” Granny says this matter of factly, and Emma stifles a laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you be.”

“Um,” Emma gathers the courage to ask, “this wardrobe . . . “

“Wardrobe?” Granny asks, brow creased in confusion. She sees what Emma is gesturing at, and nods. “Oh, that. It’s not a wardrobe, it’s an entertainment center. Just fits the decor better. There’s a tv behind those doors. A small one, and it’s just the basic cable with fifteen channels or so. Better than nothing, though, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, goodnight.”

Emma’s shoulders fall after Granny leaves. An entertainment center. Nevertheless, she holds her breath when she flings it open.

Nothing but a twenty inch television set, just like Granny had said. It seems even smaller in the large cabinet, and it sits atop a cable box. Emma sighs and closes the doors. What had she expected, anyway?

***************************************

Emma’s feet are sore as she sags against the prep sink and removes her apron. Ruby sees her and laughs in camaraderie.

“The first day is always the toughest,” she encourages.

“I hope so,” Emma groans. She pulls a wad of bills out of her apron pocket and thumbs through it. “I got good tips, though.”

Ruby smiles. “The breakfast crowd is always generous. Lunch? Not so much. Too much take out.”

Emma shoves the cash into the pocket of her jeans. There’s no uniform here, just the matching retro aprons with the pink frilly trim. Ruby is dressed vastly different from Emma in a tiny skirt and a midriff top. Emma wonders if this got the brunette more tips. Not that Emma is going that route, no matter how much she wants to get to Tallahassee.

“Speaking of lunch,” Emma says, “I’m starving.”

“Take a seat out there, and I’ll bring you something.”

“Grilled cheese and onion rings with a Coke?”

Ruby winks. “Coming right up!”

Emma heads for one of the smaller, two seater booths in the back near the jukebox, not wanting to take up room needed for real customers. She still feels a bit guilty taking food from Granny’s business. Of course, Ruby is Granny’s actual granddaughter, and she didn’t bat an eye at Emma’s “order.” She’ll just have to try and get used to generosity, she supposes.

Emma’s surprised when Ruby comes out almost immediately, but it isn’t her lunch on the waitress’s tray. With a flourish, she sets a mug of hot cocoa down in front of Emma. It’s even topped with Emma’s favorite: whipped cream and cinnamon.

“From a secret admirer,” Ruby chuckles with a roll of her eyes.

Emma frowns down at the beverage, and then her eyes flash as the cop she’d served at the bar earlier walks over. She’d recommended the whipped cream and cinnamon, telling him it was her personal favorite. The pervert! He stops at her booth and opens his mouth, but before he can speak, she lifts the mug and flings the cocoa right at him. It wets the front of his dress blues and drips from the badge at his hip. He glances down in shock at the front of him then back up at her.

“You do know I’m nineteen, right?” she snaps. “I may not have the most spotless past, but I’m not an easy score.”

The cop calmly grabs some napkins and pats at the stain on his shirt. “I agree one hundred percent,” he says, focusing on his shirt and not her. “I’m a thirty-two year old man. However, that creep Walsh Oaken over there is thirty-six and likes to sniff around Granny’s girls. I wanted to warn you.”

Emma’s brow furrows in confusion as she studies the cop, then looks over his shoulder at a skinny man who’s also perched on a stool at the bar. He winks at her, and Emma’s face turns red.

“Uh, you mean that guy at the bar? The one who’s been sitting two stools down from you since you came in?” Emma attempts a wry grin at the cop.

He chuckles, and Emma thinks that his eyes look kind, though also sad. The creep Walsh obviously overheard her conversation with the cop, and she suddenly wants to crawl under the table.

“Graham Humbert, sheriff of Storybrooke,” he tells her, extending his hand.

“Oh God,” Emma groans, “the sheriff?”

He laughs again. “It’s okay. I admire your spunk. Guys like Walsh obviously have no hope of taking advantage of you.”

“Ew,” Emma says, her nose wrinkling, “he’s gross and old.”

“I’ll overlook the old comment,” he tells her, “since he and I are too old for you.”

“Hello, Graham,” Ruby purrs as she sidles up with Emma’s plate of food. The sheriff’s eyes light up, and Emma is surprised when Ruby, over the top flirt, actually blushes.

“Hello, Ruby.” He replies, and Emma almost laughs at the way the man’s voice hikes up an octave. He clears his throat nervously, then says, “Well, duty calls, ladies. I’ll see you tonight, Ruby?”

“You know it,” the brunette tells him with a wink.

Ruby watches him go, and the sheriff even glances back in the doorway. Emma takes in the exchange with growing humor. When Ruby turns back around, Emma arches both brows at her.

“What?”

“You and the sheriff?”

“Shhh,” Ruby admonishes, waving at Emma, “not so loud, my Granny doesn’t know about us yet.”

“Why would she care? He seems like a nice guy. And you’re old enough for him.” Now that she knows he isn’t a pervert, Emma can acknowledge the man is attractive. She has eyes, after all.

Ruby shrugs. “Well, he lives here in the inn. Granny likes that he does, says he makes her feel safe, especially with the girls she takes in. If she found out I was sleeping with him . . . “

“Oh come on, Ruby, Granny seems more understanding than that.”

“Maybe,” Ruby gives Emma a sly grin, “but there’s also something thrilling about sneaking around.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

Ruby waggles her eyebrows. “Enjoy your lunch.”

*******************************************

The envelope is fat with bills and Emma smiles at the heft of it before she slips it beneath the panties in her underwear drawer. Not the most original of hiding places, but it works. Granny offered to take her to Storybrooke Savings & Loan to help her open an account, but Emma had declined. It’s too permanent, for one, like making a commitment to this quirky little town. But Emma also knows that plastic can be traced, and she has no desire to be found.

Or does she?

The pop and boom of fireworks shatters the silence of her room, and it's followed by a chorus of oohs from the families gathered below in the streets of Storybrooke. Emma merely crosses the room to draw her drapes closed before plopping down on her bed and turning on the tv. Fourth of July celebrations are playing on almost every station, but the last thing she wants to look at are families in the crowds with wide eyed children balanced on their hips. She could walk downstairs and out the door for that.

After she flips through the main four stations and PBS, she finally finds movies instead of fireworks. She’s not surprised by her options: Independence Day (naturally), Top Gun (of course), and a western she’s never heard of before. What’s more American than a western, right?

She settles for Top Gun, though she’s seen it so many times she can quote it by heart, wriggling beneath the covers and propping the pillows behind her head. Ruby had ragged her about living like an old woman, Granny had given her a reprimanding glare over her bifocals, and Graham had gently asked why she insisted on hiding. She supposes he’s right - she is hiding, but it’s for the best. This is merely a stop on her journey, and it’s best for everyone if she doesn’t get too attached.

She may live like an old lady, she won’t deny it, but Emma is still only nineteen years old. Going to sleep when even toddlers are gazing in wonder at fireworks is something Emma finds physically impossible, and by the time the smoke fades from the harbor, she’s antsy and slightly claustrophobic. She crosses to the window and sees the crowd slowly dispersing but not in any hurry to get home. She lets the curtain fall back into place and plops back down to watch Maverick and Goose for a bit longer. Once the credits roll, Main Street is finally empty, the few remaining revelers having headed down to the Rabbit Hole for drinks. Emma grabs a light sweater that’s draped over her desk chair and heads quietly downstairs.

This isn’t the first time she’s made her way through the quiet streets and headed to the docks. It’s one of the things she’ll miss when she leaves because Neal had been wrong. Emma looked it up - Tallahassee isn’t on the coast of Florida. The nearest beach will be over an hour’s drive away.

Emma sighs as she reaches the boardwalk, wrapping her sweater tighter around herself as a cool breeze sweeps across the water. She leans against the railing, looking out at the barges from which they’d shot off the fireworks. She can hear faint shouts from the crew as they clean up from the festivities. She glances over to her left and sees a sailing ship bobbing in the water where it’s tied to the dock. She thinks of a boy from years ago with sea-chapped lips, messy hair that smelled faintly of salt water, and bright blue eyes.

Three years ago, that’s when she saw that boy last. Has he changed as much as she has? Emma crosses her arms upon the wood railing and bends over to rest her chin atop them. As she often does when she comes here, she thinks of the first boy she really kissed and wonders if he’s still sailing the ocean. Maybe he’s a lieutenant now, like he had hoped. Maybe he has a nice, sweet girl who waits for him at the end of each voyage.

Emma isn’t sure why she entertains these fantasies of a boy she knew so briefly. Perhaps because it’s better than other places her thoughts could wander.

Only when her eyelids begin to droop and goosebumps rise on her arms does she leave the docks. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a penny. She holds the copper to her lips and whispers “Tallahassee.” Why she needs to get there so badly, she can’t even say. Nevertheless, she says it like a promise before tossing the penny into the waves.

Killian: Age 19

“Bloody fairies,” Killian mutters as he makes his way deeper into the thick jungle. Tiger Lily and Tink just had to bring up Milah and the need to avenge her death.

He stops at another thick tree truck; the only ones on the island that grow so large and tall. As the fairies had instructed, he slashes his hook across the smooth bark. He leans close on bated breath, and within minutes he has his answer: thick, black viscous liquid seeps from the tree. Hook retrieves a piece of parchment and a stub of charcoal from his duster pocket and makes a mark. So far, he’s counted two dozen dead pixie dust trees like this one and only half a dozen that are still producing.

Half an hour later, sweat is trickling down his back as he hacks his way through the dense bush. Suddenly, Killian spins, his hook at the ready as someone or something comes crashing through the jungle foliage to his right. He takes cover behind another thick pixie dust tree and waits. Pan’s crew are breaking in a new lost boy, most likely. Killian is shocked when it’s a girl, not a boy, who stumbles into the small clearing near his hiding place. Her blonde curls are a matted mess filled with bits of leaves and bracken, and her white gown is tattered and stained. As she scrambles to her feet, the moonlight hits her face, and Killian can make out the sheen of tears. Her blonde hair reminds him of Emma so long ago, and he can scarcely breathe for a moment. Then he blinks, his eyes clear, and he obviously sees that this girl’s hair is darker than Emma’s was.

Killian is so distracted by this strange turn of events, he doesn’t even hear the lost boys coming. They have the girl surrounded before Killian can get a bearing on the situation. The girl spins in a circle, frantically searching for an opening of escape, chest heaving in panic.

Félix stalks towards her, smacking his club repeatedly into his open palm. A phantom pain throbs where Killian’s hand used to be as the urge to pummel Félix with both fists surges through him.

“Wendy, Wendy, Wendy.”

“Please,” the girl begs, “just leave me alone.”

What happens next is a blur of white hot rage. The boys advance, Wendy is on the ground screaming, and Killian is suddenly in their midst, flinging lost boys right and left. Félix has Wendy on the ground by the throat, and Killian turns on him next.

“Run!” Killian yells, but Wendy simply stares at him with wide eyes, trembling as she curls herself into a ball. An image of a nine year old boy, cowering behind the barrels in a ship’s hold, swim up in Killian’s memory.

Félix stalks towards him, the rest of the lost boys regrouping at his back. “She’s a little young for you, don’t you think, Captain?”

That’s all it takes to send Killian over the edge. He swings with his hook, slicing down the side of Félix’s face. The young teen howls in pain, and stumbles backwards, blood gushing from his wound. The other lost boys falter as Félix stumbles to the ground, then turn and flee. Wendy has backed herself against a tree, still cowering in fear. Growling in frustration, Killian hauls her to her feet and commands her to run. When she makes no move to obey, he plunges into the jungle, hauling her along with him.

A few moments later, Wendy comes to herself and begins struggling in his grasp. “Let me go!”

He stops, turns, and snaps at her in frustration, “I’m trying to help you!” He gives her a small shake, but stops when he sees the terror in her eyes. He looks down at his hook, still dripping with Félix’s blood. He suddenly realizes what he must look like to her. Trembling slightly, he drops her arm and steps away from her. He points towards a faint trail to his left. “There’s a fairy nearby. Her tree house is that way. It’s hidden from the lost boys. You’ll be safe there.”

Wendy narrows her eyes. “You’re . . . saving me?”

The sound of lost boys echo through the jungle. “Weeeendyyyy! Come out, come out, wherever you are! We only want to play!”

Killian gestures with his hook, “Go!”

Once Wendy is heading for the tree house, Killian takes off in the opposite direction, crying, “Wendy! Run!”

He can hear the lost boys behind him, following him far away from the little lost girl.

The sounds of the lost boys are distant once he stumbles onto the beach where he’s left the dinghy. He hasn’t finished his task with the pixie dust trees, but that will have to wait. The lost boys were never supposed to know he was here.

“Bloody fairies,” he mutters again as he scrambles into the boat.

“Going somewhere, Captain?”

Hook’s blood boils as he turns to find Pan hovering nearby, his arms folded over his chest and his head tilted at a cocky angle. “Do you have a death wish, boy?”

“You can’t kill me,” Pan scoffs, “or you would have by now.”

“I can try!” Killian growls, leaping from the boat and onto the sand.

Predictably, Peter flits about around Hook’s head, but his taunts aren’t what the pirate expects and makes his blood run cold.

“You can’t save them both, Hook.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re old friend Tiger Lily or your new friend Wendy? Which should die today?”

Killian gives a feral yell as he grabs ahold of Pan’s ankle and flings him to the ground. He pins the demon there, his hook to the lad’s throat.

“What game are you playing now?”

Pan smirks, as if cold steel at his jugular is of no consequence. “Wendy was a gift for Felix, and you ruined it.”

“You hate girls.”

“But teenage boys have needs, unfortunately. It was long overdue.”

Killian presses his hook just enough to break some skin. “Wendy is safe, and what do you know of Tiger Lily?”

Peter laughs. “My crew has Tink’s treehouse surrounded. And as for Tiger Lily, well . . . let’s just say I hope she can hold her breath long enough for you to save her. Skull Rock fills up with water when the tide comes in, you know.”

Killian hauls the imp up and tosses him across the sand as he plunges back into the jungle.

“You don’t have time to save them both!” Pan calls after him. “The tide is coming in soon, Hook!”

Killian ignores him as he slashes his way through the thick brush towards Tink’s place. He’s racing so fast to get to the innocent little girl that he doesn’t see the flash of two blond heads coming from the opposite direction. He collides with Tinker Bell with such force, she tumbles to the forest floor, taking Wendy down with her.

“What the bloody hell, Hook, are you trying to kill us!”

“Tink, thank the gods!” Killian exclaims as he hurriedly pulls first Tink and then Wendy to their feet. “Pan said -”

“That the lost boys had found my hideout?” Tink finishes for him. “Yeah, I got that already.”

“Hurry!” Wendy screams when they hear shouts in the jungle behind them.

“Let’s go,” Tink orders, yanking Wendy by the arm down a ravine nearby. Killian brings up the rear, his sword at the ready in case he needs to slow down the enemy. Soon they’re racing along the bed of a trickling stream, and the sounds of the lost boys fade into the distance.

Tink stops in front of a large boulder covered in moss and pushes at a curtain of thick vines to reveal a shallow cave.

“This doesn’t look like much of a hideout,” Killian mutters.

“Do I look dense to you, Hook?” Tink snaps.

Killian arches a brow and tilts his head at the fairy. “Don’t answer that,” Tink mutters, and Wendy giggles. He winks at the child and is pleased when he elicits a blushing smile from her. Tink taps on the back wall of her cave with her wand, and a door appears.

“Bloody fairies,” Killian says for the third time that day, but this time with affection. That makes him think of - “Tiger Lily!” he cries. “Will you two be okay?”

Tink rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

He gives a tremulous smile to them both, then turns back, taking a different route back to the beach from the way they had come.

*********************************

Skull Rock is a hulking menace in the distance, staring at Captain Hook with vacant eyes as he rows across the choppy waters. Rowing isn’t easy with one hand, even with his hook, and he wishes he’d thought to bring one of his crew along today. Of course, he hadn’t expected to be performing a rescue mission.

Killian curses himself, because – once again – he has mucked everything up. Just like with Milah, he has put a friend in danger. He just hopes Tiger Lily forgives him for going to rescue Wendy first. If she lives, that is.

Curse that wretched demon of a boy! His stomach turns remembering the lad’s mocking laughter on the beach.

The tide is rising faster, filling up the cavernous, yawning mouth of Skull Rock. Killian rows harder and swears again as the waves crash against boulders as he draws closer to his destination. Killian’s row boat is almost knocked sideways as he makes his way through the mouth of Skull Rock. There’s Tiger Lily, lifting her chin to call for help. The water splashes into her mouth, and her thick braids float on the surface of the water. Killian abandons the boat; there’s no more time. He dives beneath the waves, kicking his way to where Tiger Lily is tied to a rock. He comes up for air in time to see Tiger Lily’s wide and panicked eyes just as the tide completely closes over her. Killian inhales deeply and dives back under, hacking at the thick rope with his hook. Finally, it breaks free.

Killian grabs Tiger Lily around the waist and kicks upward. When they surface, they both gasp for air. The waves are beating harder, sending the row boat farther away from them. If they don’t catch up to it soon, water will completely fill the cavern, and they’ll both drown. Tiger Lily doesn’t need any instruction; she kicks her legs and swims alongside him. When they reach the side of the boat, Killian pushes her inside, then shoves the row boat through the opening of Skull Rock that has become the narrowest of exits. Killian dives under to follow the boat.

He swims with long strokes as far as he can, hoping he has cleared the rocks. When he breaks the surface, gasping for air, he’s relieved to find himself in the open air. A hand reaches down, and Tiger Lily hauls him over and into the boat. He barely has time to catch a breath before her hand connects with his cheek. The sound of her slap echoes across the water.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” he shouts.

“Hook, you are a dirty pirate, and I never want to speak to you again.” She yells, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What did I do? Pan was the one who tied you up in there!”

Tiger Lily glares at him, her arms still crossed. “And the only reason he found me was because YOU told him where I was!”

“Why the bloody hell would I do that?”

Tiger Lily deflates slightly, her brow furrowed. “In exchange for some of your crew.”

Killian arches a brow. “And you believed him?”

“Well, I . . . “

“I would have been here sooner, but I had to rescue Wendy.”

Tiger Lily shakes her head, even more confused. “Wendy?”

“A girl Pan had his shadow bring to the island. To . . . entertain his teenage crew.” Killian can barely get the words out.

“Pan hates girls, and he’s never cared . . . unless . . . “

Killian’s eyes widen. “Unless Wendy is bait.” He thinks of Mason and Felix telling Pan that he didn’t have the mark. “He’s looking for someone specific. He’s looking for -”

“A little boy,” Tiger Lily finishes for him, “very young.”

“But why tie you up in Skull Rock?”

Tiger Lily’s eyes widen as she takes up the oars. “A distraction. Where is your crew?”

Killian shakes his head as he too takes up the oars. “The ship is docked in Pirate’s Cove while I’m gone.”

“Exactly. No pirates to rescue lost boys from the shadow. Does Wendy have any brothers?”

Killian scowls. “I’m guessing the answer to that is yes.”

*****************************************

“Don’t they ever sleep?” Tiger Lily mutters from their hiding place behind a large rock. In the clearing, the Lost Boys are hunched around the blazing campfire, dipping spears and arrowheads into the sticky black sap of dreamshade.

Killian arches a brow at Tiger Lily. “Not much. Not without a mother.”

Tiger Lily tilts her head in confusion. “What?”

He shakes his head and mutters, “Never mind.”

The fairy crouches lower and tightens her hold on her bow as she draws closer to Pan’s camp on soft feet. Killian follows her, his palm sweating as he grips the hilt of his sword.

“They’re preparing for battle,” Kilian hisses to his companion.

“But why?”

Killian doesn’t reply; he’s too distracted by the rustling in the branches above them. He scowls when Tink drops to the forest floor beside him.

“Bloody hell, can you warn me before you drop out of the sky like that?”

“Tink,” Tiger Lily admonishes, “there isn’t enough pixie dust left for you to flit around like that!”

“Shut up both of you, and listen to me! I had to fly here, it was an emergency. Wendy is gone!”

“What do you mean she’s gone? ” Killian snaps. “I left you not an hour ago!”

“She was dirty and covered in scrapes, so we went to the stream for water. She swore she heard her little brother crying. I turned around for a second, I swear -”

“Shit,” Killian mutters, “it’s not a battle they’re preparing -”

“-it’s a hunt,” Tiger Lily finishes for him.

The three of them split up, knowing that covering more ground is the only hope for Wendy and her brother. His heart pounds in his chest as he makes his way up Dead Man’s Peak, thoughts of his brother swimming up from the dark recesses of his mind. He can’t let Wendy lose hers. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a long, slow breath. Barreling around won’t help the children; he needs to focus.

Holding his hook aloft and using his sword to push aside the foliage, he continues his search. He wishes he had a lantern, but the risk of drawing the Lost Boys’ attention was too great. Thankfully, the moon is full tonight, and its light bathes the ground more and more as he ascends the peak, the foliage becoming sparser. His eyes scan the meager sized clumps of bushes, hoping for a glimpse of Wendy’s white nightgown.

Yet it’s a pair of green eyes that halts his steps. For a moment, his heart slams against his ribcage. The shade is so similar to Emma’s from long ago. As his gaze lands on those green eyes, they widen and he hears a small gasp. The bush from whence the sound came rustles, and he recognizes Wendy’s voice as she whispers, “hush!”

Killian sheathes his sword and lowers himself to his knees, not wanting to startle the children. “Wendy,” he hisses.

“Hook?” she asks in a wobbly voice.

“Yes, it’s me,” he says gently, easing around the bush. It grows right up against a wall of rock, and beyond it he hears the gurgling of Rainbow Falls. He pushes aside the foliage shielding the children, and the moonlight falls across them both. Wendy has her arms around a little boy of about four. For a moment, he looks up at Killian with wide, light green eyes, but then he shudders and buries his face against his sister’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Michael, the pirate is our friend.”

“Come, children, quickly. The Lost Boys are on the hunt for you.”

“They don’t want me,” Michael says hoarsely, peeking out at Hook again. “I’m too little, and I don’t have marks.”

Killian’s brow furrows. “Marks?”

“Here,” Michael says, holding out his arm.

Killian blinks, thinking back to Felix yanking at Mason’s arm a year ago. He doesn’t have the mark. Yet he has no time at present to contemplate it further as the shouts of the Lost Boys echo from the canyon below. Killian reaches for the children, urging them to hurry, but he stills when he sees a large palm leaf resting near Wendy’s knee. Water shimmers in the center of it, reflecting the moonlight.

“Where did you get this?” he asks Wendy.

“From the falls,” she tells him, “we were thirsty.”

“You drank from Rainbow Falls?” he asks, his heart plummeting to his stomach.

Wendy tilts her head. “Yes, of course. Why?”

Killian puts on a brave smile as he scoops up Michael. “No time for that now. Let’s get you back to the fairy’s cave.”

“I want to go home,” Michael whimpers as he clutches the edges of Killian’s coat.

“Hook will help us,” Wendy says with so much faith, that it makes Killian want to weep.

He says nothing in reply. He doesn’t have the heart to tell them that they doomed themselves the minute they drank from Rainbow Falls. They will never be able to leave the island.

Tagging:   @snowbellewells  @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @snidgetsafan​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @nikkiemms​@delirious-latenight-laughs​

[seagreen-meets-grey]

Hooked On A Feeling Ch. 1

When Hiccup and Astrid realize they've never hung out alone before, they decide to change that. And how do you better spend time with your Good Friend than by playing Mario Kart all night?

[Chapter 1: Come A Little Bit Closer] [Chapter 2: Fooled Around And Fell In Love] [Chapter 3: Go All The Way]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

Hiccup was at his fourth beer when he noticed.

He was leaning against the railing of Justin’s balcony, the cold night air cooling his skin, warm from the heat of the living room and the alcohol. It was game night, a tradition he and his friends had started over two years ago when none of them had really known anyone yet, trying to find their place on Berk’s huge university campus. Some of them had been in the same campus tour group on day one, the rest had met in class. If Hiccup recalled correctly, it had been Justin, also known as Fishlegs among his friends, who had suggested a night of board games and bonding, which had turned into a bi-weekly event of drinking and trash-talking each other over SingStar, Monopoly, Cards Against Humanity and the like.

Currently, they were taking a quick break from playing. Tuffnut and Snotlout needed a smoke break, Fishlegs one of his many potty breaks, and the rest of them just went along.

Hiccup was fairly sure that Tuff’s twin sister was filling up everyone’s water glasses with vodka, which would at least result in a hilarious moment of spitting out drinks all over Hiccup’s Monopoly board. He had long ago decided to never take his Game of Thrones board to game night if he didn’t want it back sticky and covered in oily crumbs.

He had opened a new beer bottle and followed Tuff, Snot and Astrid outside, engrossed in a conversation about the latest rumor about two of their professors dating.

By the time the two cigarettes were merely tiny smoldering dots in the ashtray on the windowsill, snowflakes started to descend silently from the dark sky. Snotlout looked up and stuck out his tongue to catch one, but it fell into his eye which made him whine and dramatically stagger off to the bathroom to wash it out, with an excited Tuff in tow who began to tell him a story of one of his many cousins who supposedly went blind from a snowflake in his eye.

“Muttonheads,” Astrid mumbled when the boys were gone.

Hiccup grinned and shook his head. “If we’re lucky, Tuff manages to make Snot so paranoid that we can sell him anything that will apparently prevent him from going blind.”

Astrid leaned against the railing next to him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’m intrigued, Haddock. Keep talking.”

Animated by her reaction, he fell into his habit of gesticulating while talking, beer bottle still in hand. “Like, we could tell him about this old myth that says making bad choices in board games will increase your body’s healing capabilities.”

“Yes!” Astrid pointed a finger at him. “We’ll let Tuff scare him further with his ridiculous tales about cousins he doesn’t have, and he’ll eat right out of our hands.”

She was beaming at the chance to mess with their friend, and for a while, they kept brainstorming ideas to make Snotlout lose at Monopoly on purpose.

He was taking another sip of his beer when it hit him.

“Hey,” he interrupted her newest plan and she raised her eyebrows in question. “You know what I just realized?”

“That most of our friends share one brain cell?”

He chuckled. “No, I already knew about that. I meant… We’ve never, you know, done this before.” He gesticulated between him and Astrid.

“Messed with our friends?”

“No. No, I mean, I mean we do that a lot, but… But, you know, we never-- we never hung out like this before, just- just the two of us.”

He could see the same realization dawn on her. “Oh my god, you’re right.”

“Haven’t we?”

“We haven’t!” She shook her head disbelievingly. “How long have we been friends now? Almost three years, right?”

Hiccup nodded. “True. And we never really hung out outside this group.”

Astrid shivered and gestured with her head to go back inside. “We have to change that.”

They sat back down next to each other on the large sofa. Astrid reached for her water glass but was smart enough to sniff at it before taking a sip. From the corner of his eye, Hiccup spotted Ruffnut peering over in anticipation. He heard her curse when Astrid took the nearest bottle of coke and filled her glass to the brim. She took a scrutinizing sip, scrunching up her face for a second, shrugged and settled with it.

“So what do we do?” she asked, taking another sip.

Hiccup hummed in thought, crossed his arms and leaned back, tapping the neck of his almost empty bottle against his arm. “And when do we do it?”

“Do what?” Fishlegs asked, sitting down in front of his side of the Monopoly board.

“Hang out,” Hiccup and Astrid said in unison. Astrid held up her hand and without looking Hiccup gave her a high-five.

“Uhm,” Tuffnut said and made an open gesture. “Aren’t you hanging out right now?” He squinted his eyes. “Or is hanging out what the kids are calling it these days?”

Astrid threw a game piece at him and Hiccup felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Hanging out as friends, you muttonhead!” she yelled.

“Right,” Tuff said, although Hiccup could tell he didn’t quite get it yet – or believed it.

“Hey, Hiccup,” Fishlegs chimed in, “didn’t you order Mario Kart for your Switch last week?”

“I did!” Hiccup sat up straight and turned towards Astrid. “All 48 races. Next Friday. We stay up all night. Loser buys the other a Christmas gift.” He offered her his hand.

She considered it for a second. “No falling asleep and the gift has a cost limit.”

They shook hands.

“Deal.”

_______________

Hiccup was at her place at nine, his Switch and Mario Kart game in his bag, as well as the ingredients to their self-made pizza. In return, her fridge was filled with energy drinks.

They said cheers with the first can and started on the pizza.

Astrid’s apartment had underfloor-heating that made the kitchen warm and cozy. Outside in the dark night, more snow was falling, covering the world in a white blanket. Music was coming from Astrid’s portable loudspeaker box.

“Someone’s been watching Guardians of the Galaxy,” Hiccup noted while he rolled out the premade dough on the griddle to the Marvel movie’s official mixtape.

“Nah, just dug it out when I went through my playlists.” She started humming and dancing on the spot where she was cutting onions on the kitchen counter.

She could feel the caffeine from the energy drink settle in her system. Using her knife as a microphone, she twirled around to face Hiccup at the kitchen table. “I’m hooked on a feeling!” she sang, taking joy in the way Hiccup started laughing at how off-key she sounded. “I’m high on believing!” She slid across the tiles in her beloved blue fleece socks, holding the knife-mic out to Hiccup.

“That you’re in love with me!” he sang into the fake-mic, equally off-key. She danced back to her cutting board and took another large gulp of energy drink. Not that she thought that hanging out with Hiccup wouldn’t be fun, but she just hadn’t anticipated it to be this nice.

While the pizza was in the oven, she opened her second drink and pulled Hiccup to his feet. Later, she claimed it was the caffeine coursing through both their bodies that made them decide they should have a dance-off right there in her small kitchen. Sliding on soft socks, slipping and catching themselves on the furniture or each other, they alternated between battling each other in ridiculous dance moves and twirling each other around, bumping into the table and counter several times.

When the oven timer went off, Hiccup loaded three big pieces each on two plates while Astrid disappeared into her little study room and came back with a DVD case in her hand.

“I’m up for some Home Alone, how about you?” She really hoped he wasn’t one of those people who hated the movie. Christmas time was Home Alone time for her.

“Am I ever!” Hiccup exclaimed and Astrid whooped and skipped off to her bedroom. He took a deep breath before he followed her, smile ever-present on his face.

They settled on her queen-sized bed, the desk with the large TV she got from her uncle Finn for her birthday in front of it, pizza and energy drinks on a tray between them.

Hiccup was impressed with the accuracy and passion with which she recited basically half the movie. But her amused expressions told him he didn’t fare any different with his impressions of Kevin and the bandits alike.

"I always think," she said when Kevin prepared his master trap, "that I'm glad Kevin seems to know what he's doing. Would have been a fucking chaos if he didn't."

Hiccup nodded vigorously. "Wanna know a fun fact about me?"

She peeled her eyes away from the screen and looked at him, genuine interest in her eyes.

"When I was a kid- actually, it started when I was a kid, and when I was fifteen, I was, like– Anyway, um… Basically, Kevin McCallister was my childhood hero."

"Oh, no." The dread in her voice didn't match the anticipating grin on her face.

"Yep," he said, popping the p. "Made my parents' life hell, especially because my inventions and traps never worked the way I wanted them to."

"Oh my god," she laughed.

"My father still doesn't let me live down the day I decided to rebuild the zipline Kevin uses to get from the house to his tree house."

"But it shouldn't even work in the movie, like, all of these traps are bullshit, realistically speaking." She wiped tears from laughter out of her eye.

Hiccup gave her a deadpan expression. "Well, fifteen-year-old me was confident he had made the right tweaks."

"What happened?"

"Umm…" He averted his face and she leaned over the tray to shake his shoulder.

"Now you have to tell me!"

Hiccup sighed and turned back to her, trying to keep up his serious expression. "I had fastened the end of the line, the one that started at the house, on the windowpane. At that point we were living in this old house with wooden panes. You can probably guess where this is going."

"Nope, totally lost. Don't leave out even one detail." Hiccup shot her an unbelieving expression, but she kept looking at him with that twinkle in her eyes, so he gave in with a defeated sigh.

"Fine, the wood was too old, it snapped when I jumped, I fell and broke my left leg in two places. Had to wear a cast for weeks. From then on, I was done with those experiments."

“But you’re studying engineering.”

He shrugged. “Exactly. Never said I was done with all kinds of experiments forever.”

A sly grin formed on Astrid’s face right when on TV the hot iron trap went off. “Let’s use the energy that kept young Hiccup going on Snotlout and the twins.”

He slowly shook his head. “You. Are. Evil.”

“Nope, not evil.” She opened two new cans of energy drinks and handed him one. “Just working with what I got to make the world a better place in these difficult times of Snotfaces and Nuts.”

He snorted and threw her an amused look. He was definitely in the right company.

_______________ 

“Alright.” Astrid stretched in the middle of her room and cracked her knuckles. “Let’s do this. I’m ready to destroy you.”

Hiccup just hummed disbelievingly from where he was setting up his gaming system. “Better open the windows for a few minutes first, the air in here is really bad.” When Astrid did just that, he added, “because it smells of loser!”

“That’s because of you,” she countered without batting an eye.

“I know, my fault, I should have thrown you out earlier.” A pair of socks flew over his head while he was plugging in the HDMI cable. "Miss me, miss me, now you gotta kiss me."

"Keep that up and I'll have to kiss you for real."

Hiccup looked up at her and saw her eyes dart back up from somewhere below his midriff. He looked at the backside of his pants. Did he have a stain there? He couldn’t find anything. Dismissing it with a shrug, he joined Astrid on the bed again. She handed him his energy can, opening another one for herself. This couldn’t be good for their health.

While the game was loading, Astrid repeated the rules. “We play all 48 races. We can’t fall asleep. If one of us does, the other is strictly obligated to wake them up. Loser buys the other a Christmas present but it has a clear cost limit.”

“Wouldn’t we get each other little gifts anyway?”

“Additional present, then.” She took a large gulp of her drink.

“I don’t think you should drink so much of that stuff; your body’s energy will drop tremendously as soon as the effect wears off, and you’ll fall asleep. Also, you’ll get diarrhea.”

She threw him an unimpressed look while he took a sip as well. “Look who’s talking. Besides, I know my own body. I’ve done this before.”

“Sure,” Hiccup shrugged and dipped his head back to drain the can. “Let’s deal with it when the time comes.” He wasn’t able to keep still anymore, wiggling his toes to countermeasure the pace of his heart. Definitely not good for their health. They really shouldn’t do this. There was a pop and a sizzling sound and he was handed a new drink. Oh, well.

When the Mario Kart home screen came up, Hiccup took his controller and chose the right settings. Astrid grabbed the other one and tested out the buttons. It had been a while since she’d last played it, but Hiccup was dead certain she hadn’t forgotten how to properly kick his butt. Or, as he would make sure in tonight’s case, die trying. He’d love an additional Christmas present from her, and he’d love even more to destroy her. Smirk on his face, he moved the stick to choose his character as she did the same.

“You can’t be serious!” Astrid yelled accusatory. “Link isn’t even a Mario character!”

“So?” he shrugged. “He’s a choosable character and you know I love Legend of Zelda.”

She wasn’t having any of it. “You can’t play a non-Mario character in a Mario game, Hiccup.”

“He’s still a Nintendo character, and what’s the big deal?”

“We said we would play this right, so no characters from other games. Choose another one!”

“If I have to pick a character other than the one I always pick, you have to do the same,” he argued. “No Bowser for you, milady!”

“At least he’s from Mario.”

“Do it properly, Astrid!” He grinned. “If I have to repick, then so do you.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Fine! But I don’t trust you with this. I’ll choose for you.”

He stuck out his hand. “Only if I get to choose for you.” They shook on the deal and switched controllers.

“Let’s see…” Astrid mumbled while going through the different available characters. “Got it!” She pushed a button to confirm her selection.

“What?!” He threw his hands up in indignation. “Why am I Waluigi?!”

“Because he looks like you.”

“Pah!” He quickly selected her character. “I guess you’re Baby Peach, then.”

She huffed. “Really, Hiccup?! Because she’s blonde?”

“No,” he said, smirk back on his face, “because she's a helpless baby and she, too, needs saving all the time because she keeps getting kidnapped by the same dude over and over again and she’s a bi– uff!“ She shut him up by surprise-tackling him to the mattress.

“Oh, really? Who needs saving now, huh?”

He struggled underneath her, but she had him pinned down with her full weight. His chest was warm underneath her arms and his face very close to hers. She furrowed her brows. Had he always had that many freckles? And did he know that there were so many shades of green in his eyes? She noticed the stubble on his chin, and he actually smelled really nice.

When her face suddenly started to feel hot, she did the first thing that came to her mind; she pushed him off the bed.

“Ow, why would you do that?!” Hiccup pulled himself up on the edge of the bed, and Astrid hoped he hadn’t seen the blush that was only slowly leaving her cheeks. But he had seen it.

For a moment, he frowned in confusion. Why was she acting so flustered?

“That’s for making me Baby Peach and comparing me to her,” she said evenly, trying to sound nonchalant, but she would still not meet his eyes. Huh. Maybe he could work with that, he thought, caffeine pulsing in his blood – whatever weird thing was going on.

They settled back into position next to each other, an arm’s length of space between them, and started the game. While they were racing over Cheep Cheep Beach, throwing shells and bananas at each other, Astrid didn’t say a word. Hiccup made a few comments every now and then and tried to trash-talk her, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Her face was focused but her eyes were far away. He hoped she wasn’t mad at him because of the Baby Peach thing.

His character broke through the finish line first.

“Wait, what?!” she shouted, perplexed, after she came in sixth.

Hiccup grinned mischievously at her. “Maybe you should pay more attention to the game if you want to win.”

“I was paying attention,” she insisted, “it’s because of stupid Baby Peach, she’s useless! Let’s start anew with our characters.”

Hiccup feigned shock, holding his hand to his heart. “What, you – Astrid Hofferson – want to back out after only one race?!”

She glared at him and raised her chin with determination. “I’ll show you a race, Waluigi!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Racing through the Water Park course, Astrid did her best to keep her concentration on the game, but her attention was continuously diverted. Why was it so nice to be so close to Hiccup and why was she suddenly so aware of him? She could feel his body heat next to her where they were sitting on her bed in their pajamas at 1 a.m. She’s had five energy drinks and she kind of wanted to make out with him.

It didn’t help at all that, during the next five races, his leg moved closer to hers inch by inch until their knees were touching, and from time to time, he shifted on his butt and leaned very close to her in the process. He let out this quiet chuckle that pierced straight through her heart and then he was suddenly sitting normally again and she realized she’d been driving against walls for a minute.

He won the fifth race with several positions ahead of her and she wanted to whack her controller on his stupid face.

“Whohoo!” Hiccup shouted, celebrating by jumping up from the bed and doing a little dance in front of the TV.

“You cheated,” she grumbled when he let himself fall back next to her.

“Astrid, you can’t cheat on Mario Kart.”

“You also don’t play a non-Mario character on Mario Kart and yet here we are,” she countered.

“But I’m not even playing Link.”

“Yes, because I saved you from that.”

“I never needed saving. See, that’s the difference between me and Peach–“

She punched him on the arm, shutting him up. “Feeling overconfident, are we?”

“Score.” He pointed at the ranking list on the screen.

“Pff,” she made, “we’re just getting started, Haddock.”

With matching competitive grins, they got ready for the next race.

“Ha!” Astrid exclaimed when she sent a blue shell for Hiccup on the N64 Rainbow Road and lead the brigade of opponents rushing past him, claiming her first victory of the night.

She finally went on a winning streak, the adrenaline that came with it keeping her from getting drowsy, unlike the not-cheating cheater next to her. Nine races later, she stretched her arms with a loud yawn and used the pause to check the messages on her phone while Hiccup leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t long until his head rolled to the side and came to rest on her shoulder, his even breaths tickling her neck. She bit her lip. They’d agreed to stay awake, but she couldn’t find it in herself to wake him while he looked so peaceful and relaxed.

The loop of their characters cheering on the screen behind the updated ranking list went on, the music becoming background noise while she went through every social media feed on her phone, ignoring the increasing pressure in her bladder.

But more than a liter of energy drink had the power of two days’ worth of water, and it started to feel like it was trying to turn her insides out. She regretfully and carefully moved Hiccup’s head out of the way, immediately missing its weight on her shoulder and the warmth of his body leaning against her side.

Peeing felt like the liberation of France and she sighed in relief. Maybe she could be back before Hiccup woke up.

She wasn’t. When she came back from the bathroom, he was stretching on her bed, bleary-eyed and disarmingly cute with his messy hair, rubbing his eyes and face like a child.

“You broke a rule,” he yawned. “You didn’t wake me.”

“I didn’t notice you’d fallen asleep, doofus. I was in the bathroom.” She settled back on the blanket, making sure to leave a little space between them lest she got foolishly distracted by him again.

He reached over her to grab another energy drink and she could swear he was smirking. But when she eyed him properly, his eyes were big and innocent, a little red-rimmed from being tired and staring at a screen for so long. Choosing to forget the whole thing, she resumed the game.

[jeonchristineimnida]

Jimin - I’m dating him

genre: oneshot, fluff, crack, sfw

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: pg13

warnings: attempt of hitting, mentions of death of both parents

word count: 3007

Summary: You were preparing a birthday surprise for your brother (Yoongi) with the boys. The other members have been teasing you with Jimin seeing how close you are but Yoongi was never happy with the jokes. What happens when Yoongi finds out it was never just a joke?

Masterlist

Preparing for Yoongi’s birthday has never been so stressful. You thought having more than one person preparing would help you lessen the stress but it had an opposite effect.

“Namjoon, not that!”

“Hoseok, that’s too much flour!”

“Jungkook and Taehyung I swear if you knock one more--” before you could finish your warning, they’ve knocked over the bag of flour that was supposed to be used for Yoongi’s cake. They looked at each other before looking everywhere but your eyes. “KIM. TAE. HYUNG. JEON. JUNG. KOOK.” 

Your blood pressure was steadily rising when you felt two hands gently rubbing both of your arms. “Deep breaths” Jimin’s voice was soft and sweet. He wants to calm you but the scene was too funny as the 2 youngest looked panicked at the mess they made that he couldn’t help but choke in a few laugh.

“Quick, scoop them back.” Taehyung suddenly got on his knees to scoop the flour from the floor and Jungkook did the same, shooting shy smiles to you in the hopes to lower the fumes they imagine coming out from your nose and ears.

You heaved a deep sigh as you shook your head before going to Jin and checking with how the pasta was going. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Jin says as he stirs the sauce for the carbonara. “They really do wanna help but their playfulness gets the best of them. Let them do the decorations instead.” 

You did as told and asked them to prepare the living room of the dorm with balloons and the banners you made with Jungkook after they cleaned the mess they’ve made. 

“Ha, those kids don’t learn.” Namjoon comments with a chuckle when Jin shouts as he was about to cut the onions with the round side on the chopping board. “Namjoon, you go with Jungkook and Taehyung!” Jin suddenly snapped. 

Everyone was surprised when Jin suddenly shouted, only to have Namjoon join the two troublemakers as he rubbed his nape with a shy chuckle. 

“I got kicked out of the kitchen too.” He says and the two smiled from ear to ear.

“Welcome to the club” They said in unison, making you chuckle as you shook your head and went back to the kitchen.

“Am I doing this right?” Jimin asks as he mixes flour, baking powder and salt in one place. You smiled as you nodded, taking the butter and sugar and mixing it with the dry ingredients of Jimin. As you start mixing it, Jimin takes it from you as he playfully flexes his arm. You scrunch up your nose and laugh before reminding him to add the eggs one at the time after beating the ingredients properly. After checking if the oven was preheated, you start making the royal icing by whipping the whites of the egg with icing sugar.

“Are we telling him today?” Jimin suddenly asks, making you almost drop the bowl of mixture in your hands. “No biggy if you’re not yet ready.” He shrugs, cracking the second egg he’s adding to his mixture before shooting you his signature eye smile that never failed to make your heart melt.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, but I don’t want to cause any rifts between the two of you if things don’t go the way we planned.” You answer, continuing to whisk as you thought of multiple scenarios on how your protective brother would react. 

Ever since you lost both your parents, he’s always been over protective of you. You thought you just weren’t pretty enough back in high school which is why you lacked love life but you recently found out it was Yoongi preventing any guy from actually making a move on you. You love your brother to bits but there are just moments when you can’t be honest with him, even if you wanted to. You didn’t want him pushing Jimin away from you, especially not causing any awkwardness to the group if things go downhill between the two of them if he finds out about you guys dating. 

You’ve already hid it from him for 6 months now, and none of the boys know, except for Jungkook who walked in on you making out with Jimin when he came in late from his self practices. He hasn’t told anyone but never fails to make it a blackmail when he needs a favor. 

You looked back up, surprised that Jimin suddenly became quiet. His face was emotionless as he handed the mixture to you before going to Hoseok who was preparing the chicken lollipops and deep frying them. 

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt up your chest. You’ve added vanilla extracts and milk to the mixture, giving it one final mix before putting it in the cake pan and placing it in the oven to cook. You gather up the courage to approach your boyfriend silently.

“Jimin?” You gently tugged on the end of his shirt, your eyes already apologetic.

“It’s okay, Jimin ah. I can fry these. Go talk to your girl.” Hoseok teases as he pokes Jimin’s side but Jimin barely smiled before walking over to the corner of the kitchen where the oven is.

“Are you mad?” You quietly asked, not being able to look at his eyes.

“Not really.” He answers, turning his back from you as he checks the cake cooking in the oven. “Is there something else you want to tell me?” 

“It’s not like I plan to hide it forever from oppa, but I just didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship in case--”

“In case we break up, is that it?” He finished the sentence differently than what you were supposed to answer. You were supposed to say in case he flips out.

“What? No--”

“I just got a text from Yoongi. He’s coming over. Someone distract him!” Jin says panicked as he looked at his phone. “The cake is barely done, the pasta is still uncooked, we need more time.”

“I’ll go.” Jimin says, picking up his coat when you ran after him, taking his hand.

“Please hear me out first,” you desperately want to explain, not wanting him to doubt your love for him for more than a second.

“Let’s talk later.” He pulled his hand away from yours and you felt your heart break. You willed the tears not to fall and he noticed it. “Let’s not waste all the effort you put into this event. I’ll go distract him for now. We’ll talk later.” He says, showing a thin lipped smile pursed to one side. He gently pats your head in attempt to reassure you before heading out of the dorm. 

“Heyy Y/N, We’re out of helium and there are still a few more balloons--” Jungkook approached you by the door only to stop when he saw your face. “What happened?” 

You wipe the tears that pooled in your eyes, coughing the knot from your throat before giving him a small smile. “We can just have the left over balloons scattered on the floor or you can throw it to oppa when he enters the dorm.”

“Did you guys fight?” Jungkook guessed and the way you froze for a second gave it away. “If he said something, I’m sure he’s already thinking of ways on how to apologize to you. Don’t worry, Jimin hyung loves you.”

Another stabbing sensation radiated from your chest. “I fucked up, Jungkook ah.” You started sobbing and the boys were all surprised. Never had they seen you cry, most especially break down in front of them.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry. We still have time. Your event’s not fucked yet, okay?” Namjoon was quick to run to your side as he rubs your back, trying to console you. 

“Yeah, look I can finish with the balloons in 5 minutes!!” Taehyung says, pumping air into them faster even if it made him look silly.

“The chicken’s done!” Hoseok informed you, showing you the plated friend chicken along with his radiating smile. 

You smiled at all their efforts, but your heart was still in pain. You remember the hurt that was evident in Jimin’s face before he left, yet he was still the one who comforted you at the end.

“If you want,” Jungkook came close to whisper in your ear “I can beat him up when he comes back.” He playfully cracked his knuckles before pinching your nose. 

“If there’s anyone to beat up, it’s me.” You sighed, giving him a small smile before going back to the kitchen to finish the dressing of the cake. 

It was about half an hour when Jin received a text from Jimin saying that they were on their way back. You hurried to cover the cake with icing and decorate it while the others prepared the table with food. Jin was constantly swatting hands of those who try to sneak a bite before the actual party when someone came through the door. Our hearts stopped as we weren’t finished preparing when Jimin popped into the corner of the kitchen to ask what else needs help.

“Where’s oppa?” You asked, watching him take off his coat and walking back to us. 

“Manager called him before we got into the elevator. Told him I’d go ahead cause I needed to use the toilet.” He explains, looking the food in front of him. His lips shaped like an O with amusement as the feast in front of him.

Jin instructed the younger ones to grab a balloon while Hoseok takes the party poppers and handed one to Jin. They positioned themselves by the door. You completed the cake and waited with them. It wasn’t long til the door opened and you all shouted with the confetti popping.

Yoongi covered his mouth, faking surprise and the guys just threw the balloons and party popper at him.

“You’re no fun, hyung.” Hoseok said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you got no jams hyung. It’s not Jimin anymore.” Namjoon agreed, his hands in his waist.

“Can’t blame me! Jimin gave it away when he keeps fiddling with his phone as he drags me to places neither of us likes.” Yoongi laughs, walking towards you with a smile. “If you want to surprise me, you gotta do better than that.” He smirks, ruffling your hair before he closed his eyes to make a wish. As he blows the candle, you smiled and gathered up courage to speak.

“I’m dating Jimin, oppa. Surprise!” You say abruptly, remembering how hurt Jimin was before he left. You didn’t want him to doubt your feelings, not anymore than you already made him feel.

“If you’re just saying that cause I told you to do better, you didn’t have to go that far.” He was denying it but the rest knew you were being serious.

“We’ve been dating for 6 months now. It’ll be 7 months next week.”

“You dare hide these kind of things from me?” Yoongi was mad. His hands was raised and you closed my eyes to prepare for an impact which never came. As you opened your eyes, Jimin stood in front of you, prepared to receive the blow but Jungkook held Yoongi’s arm.

“Do you know what you’ve put yourself into?! What if you get stalked by paparazzi and your face gets exposed? What if you get followed or abused by sasaengs while we’re away?! I told you--”

“Yoongi, calm down.” Jin tried to mediate the situation when Jimin spoke up.

“I’ll protect her, hyung.” Jimin’s voice was firm. 

“How?! We’re always out, practicing, on tours and promotions, how can you take care of my sister?!” Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s shirt, crumpling it with his fist. 

“Oppa! Stop!” You quickly give the cake to Taeyung to hold Yoongi’s hand, prying them away from Jimin. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d blow things out of proportion! I’m already 22! I’m an adult and I can choose whoever I want to date!”

Yoongi scoffs as he looks at you. “Blowing it out of proportion, you say?” he lets go of Jimin to look at you. You’ve never seen your brother this mad. “Fine. Do whatever you want. You won’t hear anything from me ever again.”

Yoongi storms off as he slams the door loudly, everyone flinching as it made impact. 

“I’ll go talk to him.” Jin says, grabbing his coat. “Hoseok ah, come with me.”  Hoseok took his coat as well before the followed your brother outside. 

You fell to your knees as you sob, covering your face. This wasn’t how you wanted to surprise your brother, and you regret the words you’ve said from the heat of the moment. You knew your brother did nothing but to take care of you, and having to raise you when both your parents were gone. You appreciated all that and you didn’t want him out of your life.

“Don’t worry, hyung will come around. He just needs time.” Namjoon says, patting your shoulder. Namjoon signed at Taehyung and Jungkook to leave you and Jimin alone to talk. Jungkook gave you a hug before leaving.

“I’m sorry--”

“No, don’t apologize.” You quickly say, looking up to Jimin. “Our relationship is not a mistake. My feelings for you are not a mistake. Don’t apologize.” You held Jimin’s hands in yours as you shake. 

Jimin pulled you into his arms, rocking you slowly as he strokes your hair gently. 

“We’ll apologize to hyung and make it up to him.” He says, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“What if he doesn’t want to talk?” you asked softly, your heart breaking as you remember his words before he left

You won’t hear anything from me ever again

“We won’t stop until he talks to us.” Jimin shrugs before looking down to meet my gaze. “If there’s anything Yoongi hyung loves more than sleep, it’s you. He treasures you a lot and I’m sure he just meant well. We just gotta give him time.” He gives you a small smile, gently pinching your cheeks.

After staying all cuddled up for some time, you’ve calmed down and Jimin helped you up. You walked to the dining table where the food you prepared were laid out. You wiped your remaining tears as you start wrapping them with plastic covers. Jimin came from behind to give you a hug. He showers your temple with soft kisses, making you chuckle as you pat the arms around you, assuring him that you’re okay. He gives your cheeks one last peck before letting go as he helped you clean up.

“Namjoon ah!” You didn’t notice that Jin and Hoseok came back with Yoongi. Your brother was quiet as he took off his coat and walked to the living room, opening the TV without saying anything.

Jin and Hoseok gave you a thumbs up as they called the others. You looked up to Jimin and he gave you a smile as he squeezed your hand. He nodded towards your brother and encouraged you to talk to him while he removes the covers from the food. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your brother, head bowed down as you fiddle with your finger. It has always been like this after you get scolded by him and you’d want to apologize.

“Oppa” I said softly, biting your lower lip as you wait for him to response, but he didn’t. You called out again once more but he continued to flip the channel, evidently not watching but doesn’t want to pay attention to you as well. You took a deep breath and knelt in front of him, matching his eye level as you once again called to him. This time, you had his attention as his eyes looked at you, but his emotionless response hurt you. He raised an eyebrow, wordlessly telling you to continue what you were about to say when you sat on your legs and started apologizing.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I understand you were just worried for my sake, but I didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship with Jimin because of my feelings. I love you oppa, and it did hurt hiding it from you but I’m sorry, I also love Jimin.” you took a deep breath, not realizing you weren’t breathing as you talked. Tears continue to fall but you took your brother’s hand in yours before looking up to his eyes. “Please don’t be mad, oppa. I don’t want to lose either one of you.”  

“Yah. Park Jimin.” He suddenly calls out, making Jimin rush to your side, standing straight as if he was a soldier talking to his commander. “Are you serious about my sister?” Yoongi now shifts his gaze from you to your boyfriend.

“I am.” Jimin’s answer was straight and firm. Yoongi tried to hide the smile wanting to form on his lips by clearing his throat. He stood up, heading to the dining table as he looked at the food prepared for him.

“Yah, dongsaengi, why did you make the cake chocolate? I thought I said I wanted mocha this year.” You lit up as your brother used the endearment he uses when he plays around. You stood up and ran to him, hugging him from behind. You weren’t able to see the smile on Yoongi’s face as he pats your arms wrapped around him.

“Alriiiight! Yoongi hyung is smiling! Time to eat!!” Taehyung cheers, diving into the food. Jungkook gave me a smile as the rest started to dig in, merrily chatting as they tease Jimin for not saying anything to them as well. You smile at what’s in front of you, everyone having fun and goofing around. 

Your eyes traveled to Jimin’s, his hearty laugh makes your heart swell. Your brother playfully hits him for not saying anything but was dead serious when he warned him about putting you in danger. Jimin looked scared, but as he found you looking at him, he gave you a genuine eye smile, subtly winking which made you chuckle.

Masterlist

[creampuffqueen]

Deep in the Heart of Texas - Two

a/n: I really need to stop writing instead of doing online school. Whatever. This is kind of a filler chapter; things should be getting more interesting soon. I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is ready for the best summer of her life. She’s home from college for the summer, and so are all of her friends. Even her cousin is on a break from the military. Everything is set up to be perfect. Until... her mother decides to let the son of an old family friend stay with them while he grieves the loss of a loved one. And Aelin is not going to let a party pooper ruin her summer.

Rowan Whitethorn has just suffered the biggest loss of his life: the death of his long-time girlfriend, Lyria. His family is sick of him moping around his tiny New York apartment, so they ship him down south for the summer. The last thing Rowan wants is to spend his vacation in Nowhereville, Texas, but he has little choice. Not to mention, the only people his age seem to hate him. How on earth is he going to survive 3 months of this?

“Aelin, we’re home!” Evalin trills as she steps inside. Rhoe is behind her, along with Eleanor and Gavriel. 

“Uncle Gav! Aunt Ellie!” And Aelin feels like a little kid again, running to her aunt and uncle. Gavriel pulls her into a tight hug while Eleanor kisses her head.

“It’s so good to see you. How’s A&M?” Eleanor asks. Aelin walks her family to the living room, telling them everything. All about the professor she hates (“Maeve is still teaching?” Gavriel snorts), and the friends she’s made, and that crazy end-of-year party she went to. 

“Aedion’s out right now.” Aelin tells her aunt before she can ask. Eleanor chuckles, sinking further into the couch. 

“Aelin!” Turning to her mother, Aelin gives her a questioning look.

“What?”

“It’s five! We need to go pick up Rowan from the airport.” Evalin stands up, ready to grab her purse and run out again, but Aelin stops her.

“He’s already here, Mom. His flight got moved up and he got here around two o’clock.” Evalin’s eyes widen.

“Why didn’t you text me? And where is he?”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Aelin sighs lamely. “And he’s asleep in his bedroom. He must have been really tired, I haven’t heard a peep from him all afternoon.”

Aelin’s mother sits down again, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. Nobody says anything for a long while, until Eleanor stands up suddenly.

“We should get started on dinner, don’t you think? Especially if we have a guest. We don’t want him going hungry, now do we?”

Evalin still doesn’t speak, but she gets up anyway and follows her sister into the kitchen. Leaving Aelin alone with her father and uncle.

“How long are you two in town for, uncle Gav?” She asks.

“I was able to get two weeks off.” Gavriel says with a smile. Eleanor is a teacher, so she’s already off for the whole summer. “We wanted to see y’all before you both went back to school.”

“You remember the Whitethorns, right?” Rhoe interjects. “They’ve been down here a few time when y’all were.”

“How can I forget?” Gavriel chuckles. “I had to scold Aedion for days after he punched one of their kids.”

The two men laugh at old memories, bringing Aelin back, as well. She’d been five years old the first time she met the Whitethorns. 

Enda was six and Sellene was seven, and the three of them got on like wildfire. Aelin showed them all over the house, even the cool secret areas in places she wasn’t supposed to go. Rowan and Aedion had trailed behind, seeming to get along just fine.

But then, as Aelin showed them the cool secret alcove in the library, Rowan had threatened to tell on them for being where they weren’t supposed to. He’d barely turned around to get out of the room before Aedion tackled him.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, and all Aelin remembered after that was turning to Aedion as the Whitethorns’ car pulled out of the driveway and saying, “I’m so glad they’re gone.”

“Aelin! Come help me chop veggies!” Evalin’s voice from the kitchen pulls her from her memories, and she hurries away from the living room, leaving the two men to chat in peace.

“I’m making chicken spaghetti casserole.” Eleanor says from the stove. The water is at a rolling boil, and her aunt quickly drops in the pieces of chicken to cook while Aelin and Evalin cut up the onions and peppers.

It doesn’t take long before it seems like Aelin has been forgiven; or at least, Evalin doesn’t seem too mad anymore. Aelin tells her that Rowan arrived just fine, settled in fine. Like she’s checked on him since then.

She also makes sure to keep some other things to herself. Like how she knows her mother set up a large suite for him, but she gave him the smallest room on purpose. Or that even though she’s determined to hate his guts, Rowan Whitethorn is unfairly hot. 

Hot as hell, and also off-limits as hell. After all, he’s here to recover from his girlfriend dying in a car accident. Hitting on him is… probably the opposite of what he needs.

Even if he’s far too attractive for his own good.

Eleanor pulls the chicken from the boiling water and adds the pasta, breaking the noodles in half before she drops them in. Aelin is busy grating cheese now, while her mother sautees the veggies.

Someone comes inside, opening up the creaky screen door and stepping into the entryway. Aelin peeks out of the kitchen to see her uncles, Orlon and Weylan.

“Something smells good.” Orlon laughs, already heading for the kitchen. Aelin meets him halfway, grinning, throwing herself into her great-uncle’s arms.

“You’re home!”

Orlon laughs at that, planting a kiss on Aelin’s golden head. Weylan comes up beside them, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “We’ve barely been gone a week.”

“Well, you missed my coming home party. Everyone was there.” Aelin pouts playfully. 

Orlon just keeps smiling, shuffling into the kitchen to snatch a piece of boiled chicken, much to Eleanor’s dismay. She’s busy straining the pasta, getting ready to assemble the casserole and put it in the oven. She slaps Weylan’s hand away before he can take a piece, too.

“Uncle, did Mom tell you that she’s letting a strange man stay in our house?” Aelin asks, grinning fiendishly.

“Aelin,” Evalin sighs, “He’s not a strange man, he’s a family friend.”

“She did tell me.” Orlon chuckles. “Poor sucker.” He uses Eleanor’s distraction to take another piece of chicken, making Aelin’s aunt nearly squawk.

They all fall into conversation easily, the whole family crowding the large kitchen. When Aedion gets back from town, he’s just as excited to see his uncles.

Aelin hadn’t realized how much she missed this; the easy-going personality of Orlon mixed with Weylan’s snark, the laughter of her aunt and uncle, the feeling of togetherness. This, right here, is her family. Her people.

Rhoe pulls a few beers from the fridge, tossing one to Aedion and Gavriel. At Aelin’s protests, he gives her one too.

“I’m twenty-one, Dad. I can drink now.”

“Legally, at least.” Aedion grins. Aelin elbows him sharply, and her cousin doubles over, coughing.

All of the commotion draws Fleetfoot into the kitchen, and nobody can resist her cute begging face. Before Eleanor can get the casserole fixed up properly, the dog has already eaten what seems half the chicken, snuck to her by nearly every person in the room.

Aelin finishes her beer with a contented sigh and tosses the can, heading to set the table at her mother’s insistance. Despite the fact that she’s twenty-one and Aedion is twenty-six, they’re still the youngest members in the house, meaning all the mundane chores get thrown on them. 

When the plates and cups and silverware are set, Evalin hands her daughter the cloth napkins. Aelin looks up at her, confused.

“Why are we being all fancy? It’s just us.” She asks.

“Have you already forgotten the guest sleeping upstairs?” Evalin sighs, clearly exasperated. “I want to give him a good impression.”

Aelin rolls her eyes, but sets out the fancy napkins anyway. By her standards, Rowan Whitethorn deserves absolutely none of this fuss. Really, she should have just gone out and gotten them all Whataburger for dinner. 

But since she doesn’t have a death wish, Aelin doesn’t talk back to her mother. The napkins get set, the casserole comes out of the oven, piping hot and ready to eat.

“Aedion, go wash up.” Eleanor tells her son. “Aelin, how about you go and get our guest? I’m sure he’s starving by now.”

Aelin trudges up the large staircase, muttering obscenities under her breath.

“What was that?” Her aunt calls back.

“Nothing!” She answers. Screw the stupid mother sense that allows her to hear back-talk from nearly a room away.

Upstairs, Aelin hurries to Rowan’s room, on the furthest side of the house from her own bedroom. She wasn’t exactly lying about all the rooms being taken, but maybe she wasn’t completely truthful, either.

All of her friends stayed for a few days after the party, not ready to head home just yet. They’d spent the days in one room or the other, often accompanied by multiple bottles of wine, and just talked. She felt as though she hadn’t seen her friends in ages, with school just being so busy. 

Now, seeing as everyone is finally gone, only a few rooms on the upper floor are taken, truly. Hers, Aedion’s, one for her great-uncles, and one for her aunt and uncle. Her parents’ bedroom is downstairs, leaving several rooms vacant that Rowan could have taken. 

However, Aelin didn’t want him anywhere near her, which meant the furthest, smallest bedroom possible. She walks to it quickly, knocking impatiently on the door. 

“I’m coming.” A muffled voice on the other side of the door says. Aelin tuts loudly and taps her foot, crossing her arms. 

“It’s time for dinner.” Aelin calls.

The door opens, and Aelin hates how she has to look up at the bastard. His silvery hair is mussed, likely from sleeping on it. However, the bags under his eyes suggest otherwise.

“Are you coming?” She snaps. Rowan doesn’t say anything, just steps outside, running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to tame it. Aelin turns away, feeling warm. He has absolutely no right to be so attractive, and it feels strangely intimate, walking in on him just waking up.

“It’s chicken spaghetti casserole. And the rest of my family is home, so try not to say anything too stupid. In fact, maybe just speak as little as possible.” Aelin leads him downstairs, heading for the dining room.

The less she looks at him, the better.

~~~~

As exhausted as he was, Rowan hadn’t slept a wink. A fact that pains him more and more with each step downstairs. His head feels fuzzy. And hot. Why is it still so fucking hot? How do these people handle it? 

“Rowan!” He looks up to see Evalin Galathynius, arms wide open, pulling him into a sudden hug. Rowan tenses up, eyes widening. Over her shoulder, Rowan has a clear view of Aelin snickering at his misfortune.

“Please, come sit.” Another woman, one who looks almost exactly like Evalin, gestures to the large wooden table. Rowan takes a seat awkwardly, trying to force a smile to his face. He fails miserably.

“This is my sister, Eleanor.” Evalin smiles. “And her husband, Gavriel.” She introduces the rest of the people, and all Rowan wants is to go back upstairs and sleep.

The Galathynius family is a sight, that’s for sure. He always thought that Aelin and Aedion looked similar, but looking at Evalin and her sister… they’re practically twins.

At least the food is good. Probably incredibly unhealthy, being mostly pasta and cheese and breadcrumbs, but good. And the other people make up all the conversation, so at least he doesn’t have to speak too much. 

If only he didn’t have to speak at all. The dog- what was its name- nudges his legs, and he can hear it panting beneath the table, begging for scraps. He tries his best to push it away discreetly.

“So, Rowan.” Gavriel tries to make friendly conversation, pulling Rowan away from staring at his nearly empty plate. “What’s New York like at this time of the year?”

“Fine.” Rowan doesn’t offer any more information, hoping to keep himself closed off. “And it doesn’t feel like the fires of hell.” He mutters under his breath.

Rhoe Galathynius bursts out laughing. “Ain’t that the truth! Hell, it’s barely June! Only gonna get hotter from here, son.”

Yay.

“I’ll take your plate, Rowan.” Looking up, he sees Aelin giving him a simpering smile, somehow paired with a death glare. He still hasn’t figured out why she hates him so much.

He passes her the dirty plate and silverware, and Aelin moves to offer the same to her uncles. She takes them through to the kitchen, the dog crawling out from under the table to follow her.

“Thank you for making dinner, Mrs. Galathynius.” Rowan says to the woman sitting across from him. She beams.

“Of course, sweetheart. And you can call me Evalin.”

“Anybody want ice cream?” Aelin yells into the dining room. “We got some Blue Bell left!”

Everyone calls back for ice cream, though Rowan is silent. Sure, something cold sounds nice, but he’s already full from dinner. Not that he’s had much appetite lately.

When Aelin returns, the dog yet again on her heels, she’s balancing several bowls of ice cream in both hands, and she places them expertly before her family, a real, genuine smile on her face.

“I hope y’all like it. There’s none left now.” She laughs. Getting a scoop of vanilla on her spoon, she lets the dog lick it off with a smile.

“You don’t want any, Rowan?” Evalin asks sweetly. 

“No thanks.” He responds. “I’m already full. And… I’ve had a long day, I think I’m going to bed, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Get some sleep.” She smiles.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Blue Bell ice cream, man.” Aedion laughs from his seat. “This is the good shit. Sure you don’t wantney?”

Struggling to understand the thick accent, Rowan shakes his head quickly, offering another apology. He practically sprints upstairs, Aelin’s hysterical laugh ringing in his ears.

Despite it being nearly seven o’clock, the sun is still bright and hot, gleaming through the windows onto his bed. 

Rowan flops down onto the comforter, wincing as he lands onto the patch of burning sunlight. Rolling over, he reaches for his phone of the nightstand.

Several missed texts and calls from friends and family meet him. Enda and Sellene’s are most prominent, wanting to make sure he’s arrived safely. There’s one or two alerts from his parents, just confirming his thoughts that they’ve shipped him down here to get him out of their hair, not because they’re worried for him, and then several from his friends, Fenrys and Lorcan.

In fact, right as he unlocks his phone, he gets another call from Fenrys. With a sigh, he answers it.

“Oh shit! He’s alive!” Fenrys chuckles, and Rowan can practically hear the troublemaking grin.

“Yeah, whatever. What do you want?” 

“I’m checking in, man.” Fenrys says. “How’s the lone star state?”

“I’m literally sleeping on the set of Gone with the Wind, so…” 

His friend laughs at that. “Well, at least you get to to sit around and drink beer and see hot women all day.”

Something in Rowan’s heart tugs violently, and he brushes it off with a laugh that sounds forced, even to his own ears.

“No, it’s too fucking hot to go outside. It was seriously almost 100 degrees this afternoon, and it’s only going to get hotter as summer goes on. I’m not going to survive the heat.”

“Well, man, you’re in luck.” Fenrys says. “Because if you’re stuck inside all day, at least you’ll have friends.”

“The only people my age in this awful town hate me.” Rowan snaps. “What are you planning, Fen?”

“How about Lorcan tells you.” His friend nearly cackles. Rowan hears the sound of the phone being passed over.

“Hey, Ro.” Lorcan sighs. “I can’t believe I let Fen talk me into this. Even Connall managed to resist him.”

“What’s going on.” Rowan asks, suspicious.

“I am currently holding two plane tickets to Houston, Texas!” Fenrys cheers. “We’re coming down to cheer you up!”

“What the hell.” Rowan groans. “Did either of you think this through at all? Where are you even staying?”

“We’ll figure that out tomorrow.” Fenrys calls, Lorcan having put the phone on speaker.

Of course. Fenrys’s family is filthy rich, so he clearly has the idea to just find a hotel nearby and crash, not caring about expenses. Although Rowan is touched his friends care enough to come all the way down to see him, he can already tell this is going to go badly. Very badly.

“All the nearby hotels are shitty.” Rowan tells him. “So just warning you. Everything in this stupid state is dusty and hot and ugly.”

Lorcan says something, but is interrupted by a loud knock on Rowan’s door. 

“Hang on; I’ll call you back.” Fenrys protests, but Rowan doesn’t listen, just hanging up the call. 

He walks over to the door, trying to reign in his groan. Why can’t he just be left alone?

It’s Aelin at the door, of course. It seems she’s taken it upon herself to personally torment him.

“I’m just letting you know, we have church in the morning. We leave at nine o’clock. If you need some nicer clothes, just take some of Aedion’s. You know, since this whole state is dusty and hot and ugly.”

Rowan groans at her words. Of course she heard him. Before he can say anything more, Aelin shuts the door, hard.

He’s been here for less than twenty-four hours, and yet he’s already messed something up.

Typical.

~~~~

a/n: so, in Rowan’s POV, I made sure to add a bunch of words and vocab not included in Aelin’s. Why? Because a Southern accent is something else, man. Of course Rowan’s going to notice it more, not being from the south, while Aelin has been listening and speaking like that her whole life. Also, the ‘wantney’ wasn’t a typo. Saying ‘want any’ out loud with my own southern voice smushed the words together, so I decided to do that here. 

Comment to be added/removed from the tag list!

@http-itsrebecca​

@rowaelinforeverworld​

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter Five

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC

Word Count: 3,350

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more? 

Note: I hope to keep posting chapters twice a week until this series is finished, but there’s a possibility that some future installments may be a little late. The summer course I’m teaching begins Tuesday, and grading student work doesn’t always leave me in the best frame of mind for writing fiction. At the very least, I intend to have a new chapter up each Sunday. Thanks for your patience! 

Three weeks and as many park visits later, Kellen still didn’t know what to make of Cassian’s return.

Each Sunday, he’d been waiting on the bench to meet them, eager to follow Owen’s whims for as long as she let him. The two of them had tested out the monkey bars, played with trucks, and even attempted leaf jumping with a small pile of leaves that they’d cobbled together in the grass. She’d spent the better part of Owen’s bath time that evening picking tiny foliage particles out of his hair, but his happiness had made the chore completely worthwhile.

With every visit, she found herself stepping back and letting Cassian take the lead more often. It was never a conscious decision, but her gut suggested he was earning back her trust. In light of everything he’d missed, some moments alone with the boy felt like the least she could offer.

He hadn’t pushed for anything else, yet she knew him well enough to read the questions that furrowed his brow when Owen couldn’t see. 

Kellen’s eyes swung to the bed, where her son was making a railroad track out of the lines of stitching in her duvet. She continued steaming the lapels of tomorrow’s blazer, though her focus was more on the child than the task before her. 

So far, her fears of Owen’s life being turned upside down had been unfounded. As she’d predicted, he and Cassian had become fast friends, but their friendship hadn’t compromised any of her rules. Perhaps it was time to relax them and move beyond their weekly park excursions. 

A sudden vibration from her back pocket signaled the perfect opportunity for her to test the waters further. As she read over the text she’d received, a plan began to formulate. 

Am I really doing this? she questioned, scrolling through her contacts for Cassian’s number. But her hesitation disappeared as quickly as it had come. She mashed the green call icon and held the phone to her ear, the head of her steamer still dangling from her other hand.  

He answered on the second ring. “Kellen? Everything okay?”

Her pulse hammered, though she wasn’t sure if it was in anticipation of her question or just at the sound of his voice. “It’s fine. Look, I know it’s only been a couple hours since we’ve seen you, but I have a quick question about tomorrow. According to the schedule you sent me, you’ve got the day off?”

“I do.” 

“How would you feel about watching Owen while I’m at work? I just got a message from his daycare.  They had a pipe burst this weekend, and I’m going to have to keep him home until they get everything cleaned up. I can take the time off, but I thought you might be interested since you’re off anyway.” 

“I’d love to,” he confirmed, his eagerness almost as audible as his smile. “And I can watch him more than just tomorrow if you’d like. I’ve got a few weeks banked, and I don’t have any plans for --” 

“It’s fine,” she broke in, but thought better of the interruption. “Sorry. What I meant to say is that they should have it fixed within a day or two. But thanks for offering,” she added as an afterthought. “It’s probably easiest for you to come over to the apartment, if that works.” 

“Whatever you think is best. What time should I show up tomorrow?”

Blood rushed to her ears as they finished making arrangements. This doesn’t mean he’s back in your life for good she chided, somewhat startled when the thought was met with a pang of disappointment. But if things go well...

Even as the thought evaporated, optimism fluttered in her breast. 

_____

Kellen’s excitement only grew the following morning when he appeared on her doorstep. Her son had spent his first waking hour creating a pile of all the toys he wanted to show “Mr. Keane,” and Cassian had come laden with bags of his own. Their matching grins had been nearly enough to make her rethink her plans of going to work. 

By comparison, the office was deadly dull. Even with Harika’s impertinent questions and the handful of messages she exchanged with Cassian to check in, the day felt like it would never end. 

When she finally made it home that evening, she was met with the enticing aroma of garlic and onions. She couldn’t discern any other hints about the contents of her stove or oven, but the scent alone left her salivating. Looking through to the small dining area beyond the kitchen, she found the two boys occupying a single chair. 

Having traded his booster seat for Cassian’s lap, Owen gripped a pair of crayons intently, doodling abstract circles along the sheet of paper before him. Cassian held him with an arm around his waist and colored with the child’s cast offs, his own paper a sunny display of yellows and golds. 

“Hey, Kellen.” 

“Mama!”

As Owen began squirming, Cassian pushed back from the table to let him down. “There you go, a stór. Go tell her hello.” Though the term he used was unfamiliar, the fondness in the exchange was clear. He looked to her when he’d finished speaking, and she almost shivered at the intensity in his green eyes.

Did he know how nice it felt to come home to something other than an empty house? 

Forcing her gaze away, she bent to pick up her son. “Hey there, big guy! How was your day?” The toddler’s spirited chatter soon took her attention. Though she hardly kept up with it all, it was evident that the time spent with his father had been thoroughly enjoyed. 

Cassian quickly collected the crayons, then crossed to the pot on the stove. At a lull in Owen’s babbling, he spoke. “How was work?”

“Good, but I’m happy to be home. How have things been here?” 

“First rate. I took the liberty of making you dinner. I hope that’s all right.” 

“Sounds great,” she acknowledged, setting the fidgeting toddler back on the floor. He ran off to his bedroom, but Kellen stayed behind for a moment longer. “We do a lot of takeout and delivery, so something homemade will be a nice change of pace.” 

“I gathered as much from the state of your fridge. But I brought over what I needed, and you’ll have enough for leftovers too.”

“You’re planning to join us, aren’t you?”

The corner of his lip turned up at the invitation, and she felt immediately self-conscious. Was it obvious that she wasn’t quite ready to let him go? 

“I didn’t want to impose.” 

“Staying to eat the dinner you made is hardly imposing.”

Wordless, he nodded and tested something in the pot with a fork. “Then I’d love to join you.”

“Great,” she said in answer, turning to follow Owen so that Cassian couldn’t see the width of her grin. 

Before crossing into the boy’s bedroom, she stole another glance toward the kitchen. He was still at the stove, adding seasoning to the pot before giving it a stir with one of her cooking spoons. A strange noise carried through the hall, and her brow wrinkled slightly before realizing that he unaccustomed sound was his humming. Cheeks flushed with pleasure, she stepped into her son’s room.  

For the past month, she’d worried that letting him into her home again would feel risky or uncomfortable, but now that he was here, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so valued and cared for, nor a time when Owen had been in such good spirits after they’d spent the day apart. If this is how things are after a single day...

Kellen buried the thought before it could lead anywhere too dangerous. 

_____

After they’d eaten, Cassian had insisted on clearing up from dinner while she caught up with Owen. By the time the boy was bathed, the only signs left from their meal were the set of pans in her sink and the dishrag in Cassian’s hand. 

Kellen carried the pajama-clad boy back through the hallway, stopping just before they reached the kitchen tile. 

“Owen has something he’d like to tell you before he goes to bed,” she announced, relaxing her hold so that the boy could lean further in Cassian’s direction. 

“Has he now?” Seeing the joyful spark as he secured the child’s gaze, she knew the promise he’d made during their first park visit had been true: it was utterly impossible to imagine him leaving them again. 

“He wanted to say thank you,” she led, ignoring the tingling sensation that rose in her chest. The boy parroted back the syllables, though more to her than to Cassian. 

“You’re welcome. Thanks for spending the day with me, Owen.” 

“And since it’s nearly his bedtime, we’re also here to tell you good night.” The second attempt suffered much the same fate as the first, though Cassian didn’t seem to mind. The child’s dulcet voice made up for his lack of attentiveness and enunciation. 

“Books?”

“I haven’t forgotten. We’ll read before bed.” The boy’s response sounded suspiciously like Mr. Keane. 

Cassian laughed, chucking the boy under the chin. “We did read, didn’t we? Let your ma read to you tonight.”

“You’re welcome to join us you want to,” Kellen offered. “I don’t mean to keep you, but you can read with us if you’d like.” She knew he’d take her up on the arrangement even before opening her mouth to inquire. 

“I was hoping to finish up with those pans anyway. Let’s go read some books while they soak.” 

The trio read for nearly half an hour -- much longer than their customary three-book habit. But the minutes passed quickly, especially after Cassian succumbed to Owen’s continued requests. 

Kellen supposed she should have felt jealous that he was taking over her nightly role, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset by the circumstance. Cassian was a competent and engaging reader, bringing so much life into the little stories that she found a new appreciation for what she’d often regarded as very bland prose. 

But at the first sign of heavy eyelids, he snuck out of the room to leave them alone, sensing that his presence might do more harm than good when it came to putting the child to sleep. 

He was still scrubbing the pans when she returned to the kitchen a short while later.

“You must have worn him out today. He was out like a light.” 

Cassian turned from the sink with a deep-throated laugh. “That’ll be me as soon as I get home. I forgot that toddlers could be so exhausting.” 

Kellen snatched the flour-sack towel from the oven door and stepped up to the counter beside him. “I always think I’ll have time to catch up on sleep over the weekend, but it never works out that way.” 

“I can imagine. He’s got a lot of energy; I think he must get that from you. The child is never still.” 

She bristled happily at the teasing lilt in his voice. “He seemed pretty content to sit on your lap earlier.” Remembering the sight of them together, curiosity got the better of her. “What was it that you called him when I got back? Was it in Irish?”

Cassian craned his head over his shoulder to look at her. “Something my Ma used to call me when I was a boy.”

The revelation warmed her down to her toes. Gathering her long hair behind her shoulders, she started in on the pans he’d finished. 

“You’re helping with dishes now? You really have changed since Nantucket.” He paused rinsing to raise an approving eyebrow. With his curls askew and his wrists covered in sink water, he still managed to be unforgivably handsome. 

“Told ya so.” Under the weight of his gaze, Kellen was struck with a stark reality: she’d be willing to pull dish duty for the rest of her life if it meant he'd keep looking at her like that. 

When did I start thinking that way? She nudged the thought away and carried on drying.

“I think I like this new Kellen,” he admitted, turning off the water and shaking the excess liquid from his hands. 

As he reached for a paper towel, the hem of his shirt rode up to reveal toned muscle and skin. It was all she could do to keep her grip on the lid she was drying. Setting both the lid and the towel beside the sink, she hopped onto the counter and gave her full attention to the man across from her. 

Their eyes met, the electricity between them almost palpable.

“You and me alone in a kitchen?” she breathed, “Tell me this isn’t bringing back a ton of memories.” Even after all this time, their cadence of flirting came as easily as breathing. 

As he balled up the towel, he allowed his eye to wander over her form. It was impossible not to notice the heat of desire in that gaze. “I remember them all.”

“Care to show me?”

He nearly choked at her sudden boldness, but he didn’t back down. Eyes locked on hers, he took one step closer. Kellen noted with a thrum of longing that her power over him was still very much intact -- a circumstance which was only fair considering the immense hold he had on her. The years apart had done nothing to dull how attracted she was to him, and though wariness may have slowed her reactions, it hadn’t left her blind. 

She heard the catch in his breath as she eliminated the space between them. 

It took her a moment to get the hang of kissing him -- kissing anyone -- again. His lips were fervent against her own, his tongue beseeching her to grant him entry. She complied willingly, swallowing his groan as their tongues met. 

Kiss deepening, her hands skated under his shirt to clutch the warmth of his skin. He shivered against the touch and took another step, so close that she was able to hook her ankles behind his back. 

“What are we doing, Kellen?” he sighed when they parted for air.

She halted, taking a series of shallow breaths. It was clear what her heart and body wanted, regardless of the arguments forming in her mind. “Making up for lost time.” 

He stared down at her with a yearning that threatened to turn her insides to jelly. From that look, it was clear that nothing had changed in the way he felt toward her. He opened his mouth, presumably to tell her as much, but she couldn’t bring herself to hear it. “Please just kiss me, Cassian.” 

He followed her request earnestly, lifting her off the counter so that he could carry her to the couch.

By the time they made it there, she’d already relieved him of his shirt between kisses, her hands roving the expanse of his chest with great relish. She delighted in finding that certain touches still made him gasp, that his skin was as feverish as her own, that his abs were every bit as perfect and defined as she’d remembered... 

But not everything tallied with her memory. Her lips slowed as she slid over an abstract mound of skin at his shoulder. Sitting back on his thighs, she blinked to see the scar beneath her fingertips. Reducing the pressure of her touch, she circled the area, tentative, as her eyes sought his for answers.

“I got shot. Was laid up in a hospital for weeks afterward.” 

Her skin turned to ice. She’d always known that his work had the potential to turn dangerous, but this was the first time she’d seen evidence of that danger on his body. Stomach churning at the revelation, her desire for him was quickly consumed by fearful uncertainty. 

Cassian recognized her hesitance, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. “I should have warned you. It doesn’t make for a very nice surprise, does it?”

She gathered another breath and slipped onto the cushion beside him. In the lull, she was vaguely aware of him taking his shirt from the arm of the couch and tugging it back over his body.

“That’s one of the reasons I’m back in Boston,” he continued. “I’ll be training and working behind a desk more often than not.” 

“Oh.” Finally finding her equilibrium, she felt she owed him some kind of explanation. “I’m sorry for reacting that way. I wasn’t expecting it -- that’s all.” Mouth still burning from the sensation of his kisses, her tongue turned to ash as she uttered the lie.

“There’s no reason to apologize. It’s probably for the best anyway. I think we were on the verge of letting ourselves get carried away.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time...” 

Offering her a half smile, he leaned forward to wipe a smudge of lipstick from her lower lip. “No, it wouldn’t.” 

For an instant, she allowed herself to relax into the intimate gesture. He’d offered an explanation; the chances of him getting hurt again in the future would be slim. And though the that knowledge provided her some comfort, it wasn’t enough to override the panic that had seeped into her skin. 

“I don’t... “ she started, uncertain where the sentence was heading as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” 

His pained expression was almost enough to make her regret the words, but she had to think about her son. Surely not knowing his father at all was a better fate than losing him. At this stage, there was still hope that Owen could move on from this none the wiser. If Cassian became a fixture in their lives and then something happened to him… 

That was another story altogether. 

Kellen bit her tongue to keep from taking the words back. She hadn’t meant to hurt Cassian, but she had to protect her son. 

“What is it?” His eyes beseeched her, desperate to come to an understanding. “Please let me in. I know there’s still a lot for us to figure out, but it’s been more than a month. I thought that…” he drifted off, but it was easy to read his implication. 

You thought that everything was back on track, Kellen inferred. For a moment, she’d thought so too. “This is all just happening too fast,” she offered with a sigh. “I need more time.” 

He trailed a hand along his forehead, and she was grateful that he didn’t seek her eyes when he spoke again. The contact would have been too much for her to bear. 

“You can all the time as you need. Just please don’t keep me from my son in the meanwhile. I know you’re all he’s had for most of his life, but he means a lot to me too, Kellen. I’d do anything for him.” 

There was no doubting the sincerity in his voice. She’d been right to believe that he would never leave them of his own volition, but that assurance no longer seemed like enough. “Thanks,” was all she could stand to say. 

“I guess I should head home,” he attempted, breaking the awkward silence that had come between them. “Thanks for today. I’d love to do it again sometime.” 

Still quiet, she was vaguely aware of the kiss Cassian pressed to the top of her head before he left her. “Goodbye, Kellen.” 

She managed a quiet farewell before sinking fully into her thoughts. 

She wanted a future with him. This night together had only shown her how much. But she’d be damned if she let that desire get in the way of what was best for her son. 

For now, there were too many variables -- too much emotion and room for human error -- for her to evaluate exactly what best was. Perhaps she’d reach a conclusion someday, but for now, the need for caution outweighed all else. 

[ssa-montgomery]

Behind Closed Doors Chapter 3

Word Count: 2350

Story Summary: After a drunken night together Emma and Regina seem to fall into a hidden relationship. Dinners that aren’t quite dates, nights together that they pretend never happened. No one knows, and it’s perfect. Though it seems somewhere along the line Regina started to feel more than she ever imagined she would.What will happen to this relationship, as well as their friendship when Emma brushes it off as casual and begins to date Killian? A heartbroken Regina and an oblivious Emma attempt to fix it. What if people find out what happens behind the closed doors of Regina’s home? Can Regina win back Emma’s heart?

Characters For This Chapter: Regina x Emma, David, Ruby, Granny

Warnings For Story: Angst, Smut, Heartbreak, Swearing, Alcohol use

A/N: This is a bit more of a casual chapter but the next one is certainly going to be eventful! I really appreciate all the support on this story so far, your comments truly mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this new chapter :D

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Emma pushed the door to Granny's open and stepped in out of the cold letting it swing shut behind her. It was her first day back at work since that night at the bar, and her first time seeing Ruby since then. She was almost nervous to see her. At first, she had thought about just skipping lunch and finishing up the paperwork they needed to drop off at Regina's office in a few hours but she never missed going to Granny's to pick up her lunch when she was working. She knew Ruby, she wouldn't give up until she got some information out of her about what had happened that night and honestly, she had no idea what to tell her. She would be able to tell Emma was lying from a mile away.

"Well, if it isn't our little escape artist." Ruby laughed cocking an eyebrow at Emma and crossing her arms over her chest. "Where have you been?"

"Oh please Ruby you were too busy with Dorothy to even notice I had taken off." Emma teased walking over to take a seat at the counter. Ruby dropped the towel she was holding down onto the worktop behind her, her previous work seemingly abandoned now and leaned against the counter.

"Excuse me Ruby but I don't remember saying you were on your break!" The door to the kitchen swung open and Granny walked out with a plate in one hand, the other placed firmly on her hip.  

"I'm taking Emma's order!" Ruby countered quickly pulling out her notepad and pen that were tucked into her apron as if that had been her plan all along.

"A grilled cheese with a side of onion rings and large hot cocoa to go, it's already on." Granny recited shooting Ruby a look that she said she didn't believe a word of her excuse. "Did you forget she comes in practically every day?"

"You know me so well." Emma chuckled, it was true her order was always the same ever since she had first come to Storybrooke. When she had first arrived it had felt strange to have Granny remember her order whenever she came in. Before coming to Storybrooke she had never had a set routine, between moving around and being out of town for work she was never in the same place long enough to become a regular. Now it was comforting to know that Granny would have her food waiting for her every day.

"Fifteen minutes Ruby," Granny said. "Then it's back to work."

"Okay well you heard her Emma, you have fifteen minutes to spill everything that happened the other night." Ruby grinned tapping her red nails against the countertop. Ruby had been trying to get Emma to find someone for months now claiming that she needed a break from her constant workflow as both the saviour and the sheriff. It had created a few awkward moments of Ruby having an "emergency" and leaving Emma alone at a bar with some of Ruby's friends that she barely knew in hopes that she might hit it off with one of them.

"There's really not much to tell, I got very drunk and then." Emma paused for a moment. She wanted to tell Ruby the truth or as much of the truth as she could. She was her best friend and she hated lying to her but this wasn't just her secret, it was Regina's too and she wanted to respect her privacy. "I went home with someone."

"I knew it!" Ruby exclaimed, her high pitched shout attracting a few stares from people in the diner. Noticing the attention she had attracted she cleared her throat before speaking again lowering her voice so no one could overhear them. "So who was it?"

"I can't tell you that Ruby, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone." Emma shook her head dropping her gaze to the counter as she waited for Ruby's response. There was a nervous knot building in her stomach, she was afraid she would say too much and Ruby would figure it out on her own.

"Oh fine. Were they hot? Wait, was it a woman?"

"Yes it was a woman and yes, they were insanely hot." Emma nodded letting out a slight chuckle. Ruby's question brought back the image of Regina in that well-fitted corset and she found her mind starting to wander back to the way she had looked that night.

"Damn, I'm proud of you." Ruby laughed with a slight shake of her head. Her eyes quickly looked around them making sure no one was within earshot before she asked.  "So, was it good?"

"Ruby!" Emma wasn't easily embarrassed and she was glad she wasn't with a friend like Ruby because she always asked what was on her mind, no matter what it was.

"What? I just want to make sure you ditched us for a good reason."

Emma rolled her eyes and glared at Ruby who just chuckled and shrugged her shoulder. Emma was grateful for Granny walking over then with her takeaway bag in one hand and her cup of hot cocoa in the other. She placed them down on the counter in front of her and smiled warmly.

"There you go Emma, we'll see you tomorrow?"

"Same time as always." Emma grinned. "Thanks, Granny."

Emma hopped down off her stool and pulled out her wallet, handing the money over to Ruby. While Ruby entered the money into the cash register Emma gathered up her things, her stomach rumbling at the smell of the freshly cooked food. When Ruby turned back around Emma beckoned her over to the counter again. She pushed herself up onto her toes and leaned over the counter to whisper to Ruby.

"It was incredible."

Emma swiftly pulled away again shooting an innocent smile over her shoulder at Ruby as she pulled the door open and moved to step outside. She let out a laugh at the wide-eyed look of shock on Ruby's face at her comment.

"I will get a name out of you Emma Swan!" Ruby called after her.

~~~

"Regina."

"What?" Emma's head snapped up from the work in front of her to see David standing at her desk. The tone of voice David said her name in sending a wave of fear through her body.

"We need to go to Regina's office, to drop off the paperwork. I've been talking to you for the last five minutes Emma were you listening at all?" David sighed.

"Right. Yeah. Sorry, just lost in thought." Emma shook her head gathering up the last of the loose papers on her desk and slid them into the file. She threw on her jacket and tucked the file under her arm walking around the desk to join David. "Better not keep the Queen waiting."

The trip to Regina's office was quick and they spent most of the time discussing the new plan they wanted to propose to Regina, the same plan that had them swamped with paperwork and planning for the last week and a half. Both Emma and David had decided that only having two sheriffs in the town wasn't enough, especially with them both trying to balance their shifts so they could spend time with their children. Mary Margaret had returned to teaching so David needed more time off to take care of Neal and Emma needed her weekends free for when Henry was home. David had suggested that they could hire some new deputies and Emma had immediately been on board but they still needed to run it by Regina.

Emma walked into Regina's office, tapping her knuckles on the glass panel of the door when she already had it half-open. It took Regina a moment to realise who had walked in but after that, it only took a second for her to reach up and snatch her glasses off, quickly throwing them down behind one of the photo frames on her desk hoping Emma hadn't noticed but the grin plastered across her face said differently.

"Never thought I'd see the Evil Queen wearing reading glasses." Emma chuckled. "Is there not a spell for that?"

"Careful Miss Swan," Regina warned pointing the pen in her hand at Emma. "What are the two of you doing here anyway?"

"We have the request forms filled out for our proposal," David explained.

"Oh of course, why don't you take a seat we can talk a bit about this," Regina suggested.

Emma pulled out one of the chairs in front of Regina's desk and sat down. She looked at the photo frame she had tried to hid her glasses behind and smiled at the photo. It was of her, Regina and Henry from last summer. She still remembered that day so clearly. They were sitting on the grass in Regina's back garden with Henry between them, they both had one arm wrapped around him and Emma had stretched her hand around to rest on Regina's shoulder. She remembered the warmth of the sun as they had all sat outside drinking, it had been Henry's idea to throw a barbeque for the whole family and Regina had offered to host since she had the most space. The night had ended with Emma, Regina and David all in the pool still fully dressed after David had surprised Emma and tried to push her in. In her panic, she had grabbed Regina's arm and dragged her in with her, to say she was angry was an understatement. They had both managed to pull David in with them after that.

"So, if you were to take on more deputies for the station who are you considering?" Regina asked.

"We were considering possibly opening it up for people to apply but Robin and his Merry Men have been asking for work so we thought maybe some of them," David said.

"I was considering Robin and Will Scarlet in particular. Robin has helped us out a few times and I think given the chance Will could be a good fit. The Merry Men already do their own patrols around the woods we could possibly expand their borders. They've shown interest in the past and I think they'd be more than willing." Emma explained.

Regina had propped her elbows up on her desk, resting her chin on her joined hands. She was watching Emma closely as she spoke seemingly ignoring that David was even sitting next to her. It felt strange that her first proper conversation with Regina since accepting the dinner invite was a work meeting. They were a constant part of each others routine with work and Henry and even if they didn't see each other they were always in contact most days through messages or phone calls but it had been a few days now with no talking.  Once Emma had finished talking Regina nodded and flipped the file open to scan her eyes over the paperwork.

"Well it certainly seems like you have all the paperwork for this filled out properly but I'll have a thorough look over it. Personally I think it would work out nicely for the town so I'll see what I can do." Regina smiled at them both.

"Thank you for this Regina." David nodded a look of relief washing over his face. Emma knew how nervous he had been about this as he really needed the time off. "I have to go pick up Neal now so I'll talk to you later but I really do appreciate this. Emma, are you coming along?"

"Actually I going to stay and talk to Regina, just want to make sure Henry's ready for his trip with you this weekend. I'll see you back at the loft."

"Okay."

Emma watched David make his way out of the office and waited until she was certain that he was at least halfway down the hall before turning back to face Regina. The last person she needed to find out about what had happened was her father.

"Is everything alright Emma?" Regina asked. Emma could hear the slight hint of worry in her face and she noticed the way nervously picked at the notebook on her desk. Emma offered her a reassuring smile before she spoke.

"Everything's fine. I was just wondering if this dinner on Friday has a dress code?"

"No Emma." She laughed, any nervousness that had been there melting away. "You're red leather and jeans will do just fine. It's just a casual dinner and a chance for us to talk about what happened."

"Right so I don't need to break out any of Mary Margaret's ball gowns, got it." Emma nodded trying her best to make a serious face but she couldn't hide the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I mean you can if you'd prefer. I'm sure I could dig out some of my old ones, make it a formal event." Regina teased.

"As much as I would like to see you wear another Evil Queen leather corset to dinner I think I'll save the ball gown for another day."

Regina caught her lip between her teeth and a light red tint crept up her neck at Emma's comment. She was beautiful. Emma couldn't help but think it as she watched her tuck her hair behind her ear. That night was the first time Emma had ever said it out loud to Regina. The first time she had looked her in the eyes and felt she could.

"I should probably get going," Emma said finally standing up. She pushed her chair back to its usual place and leaned against the front of the desk. Reaching behind the photo frame she picked up Regina's glasses and looked down at them. They were a simple black frame that suited her. She lifted them up and slowly slid them back onto Regina's face. Her fingers gently brushed across her cheeks as she pushed them up and she felt Regina lean into the touch. "They look good on you."

"I'll see you on Friday Emma,"

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