#I’ve only gotten far enough in to the diner and I want to finish the demo so bad

[night-crawler08]

Wish I didn’t have responsibilities so I could finish playing the Keyframes demo…

[blueprint-han]

plushies — bang chan.

pairing — chan x (fem) reader

genre — fluff.

word count — 2 K

warnings — reader is obsessed with plushies <3

note — this idea is credited to @orphic-chan !! I have her permission to use it, so mei I hope you like this :"( and that I did it justice <333 🥺 I'm fond of this blurb xkxjxjjdjdjdjdjd

“Hey look!”

Your face lights up with the pure joy of a child as you run towards the store, gazing through the glass with heightened excitement. Your husband grins at you, walking to where you’re standing and staring at the display case. 

“What is it, princess?”

You ignore the blush that creeps up to your cheeks when you hear that nickname, focusing on the cute wolf plushie that’s sitting neatly on the case. It’s tiny paws hold a heart, although you don’t need to focus on those details — you were sold the moment you’d seen the plushie from far away.

“Can we get that, please please please please please-” You pout with pleading eyes, jumping in your place from excitement. Chan laughs, reaching out to ruffle your hair before shaking his head.

“Don’t you have to wolfchan plushie already?”

“Yeah but… look at this — there can never be enough plushies that can remind me of you, you know.”

“But at this rate, our whole bedroom’s gonna be filled with plushies.” Chan gives you a thoughtful smile. “How many do you have right now — twelve?”

“Fourteen.” You frown sarcastically. “But that’s not the point! It’s so cute, I want it, pleaseeeeee…”

“Y/N, how many plushies, out of the fourteen, do you actually sleep with?”

Your expression droops down, as you’re hit with realisation. You’ve had an obsession for plushies ever since you were little, and that attraction had surely carried into adulthood as well. You couldn’t help it. They were so soft and comfortable to cuddle with — you’d bought most of the fourteen plushies when Chan was away slaving at JYP, and you missed his cuddles dearly. A little Versace Eros and a wolf chan plushie did wonders to your cuddle-deprived soul, to be honest.

It hasn’t even been a year since you and Chan had tied the knot and made it official — but nevertheless, you’ve been enjoying your marriage. Calling Bang Chan your “husband” surely induced a feeling of butterflies fluttering around in your gut — it didn’t help when Chan would call you his wife, his princess, and all those cute nicknames from time to time either. 

“Hey, but why do I need a plushie when I have the actual wolf chan beside me, am I right?” You lean in as though to whisper a secret into his ear, and Chan does the same, though he’s internally giggling at how cute you’re being right now. “Plus, don’t tell wolfchan, but your cuddles are better.” you whisper softly, as though not wanting the wolf plushie to hear you.

Chan bursts into a fit of giggles at that, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a protective hug. “You’re so precious.”

“So can we get the plushie now? Chan squints at your insistence, shaking his head before leaning down to lift you into his arms bridal style — invoking a squeal from you. You tightly grip onto his jacket, eyes going wide as you scan the crowd around you. Thankfully, no one seems to be bothered by Chan’s public display of affection and he starts walking with you clinging onto him.

“I- Are… are you gonna carry me all the way home?” You feel flustered, even though such incidents are more than common in the many years you’ve been with Chan. He was pretty outward and outgoing, never really shying away from doing something to show you just how much he cherished you. He also secretly loves seeing you get surprised and flustered when he did something like what he’s doing right now.

“As long as my hands can take it.” Chan shrugs, shooting you a gentle, pretty smile that takes your breath away before walking home with you in his arms.

The next week, you pull him out of his studio for a break after missing him for too long, and he readily obliges, following in pursuit as you take him to your favorite diner.

“It’s been a while since we’ve eaten here.” Chan says.

“Yeah, can’t wait to eat those waffles again.” You chirp, before turning towards him and putting on a mockingly serious expression. “And you mister husband, are going to eat as much as you can — and no coffee.”

Chan frowns and pouts at you. “But princess-”

“No- no princess. Look at you. You have such dark eyebags again, and you’ve gotten so pale.”

Chan sighs, feeling a warm feeling flow up his chest when you quiz his hand you’re holding in yours gently. “Okay, fine. As long as you’re happy.” 

“Hey!” You slap his arm playfully, and Chan’s jaw drops as he giggles along with you. “What was that for?” he asks.

“I didn’t let you be this adorable and sweet right now.”

“I don’t need any permission, remember? I’m your husband, I can make you shy whenever I want.”

You make a defeated face at him, opting to grab the menu cards to hide the heat that’s spreading all over your face. 

“By the way, isn’t that my hoodie?”

“It’s my hoodie.” you say as a matter-of-fact, flipping through the pages to see what you could order. The pasta looked delicious—

Chan sighs, reaching over to hold your hand before lifting it up, pointing at the way the sleeves reached up to your knuckles and covered your hand almost completely. You simply smirk at his implication.

“Really?” He asks.

“Well, it was your hoodie. It’s mine now.” You say, sipping some water before realising what you meant. “Uh, um.. Only if you’re comfortable though-”

“Hey, hey.” Chan beams at you, the grip on your hand growing tighter. “I really don’t mind. Plus, you look really cute. But I have to admit, I thought the whole stealing-my-boyfriend’s-hoodies-phase would be over once we were married.”

“Well, it will never, for you. Your hoodies are cozy, plus, they smell like you.”

“Gosh, you’re so adorable.”

“No you are! Look at you — your beautiful brown eyes, your perfect face, your beauty, your smile that always makes me melt, your-”

Chan giggles and covers his face with his palms at the sudden overdose of compliments, feeling his skin burn red. You smile cheekily in victory, pulling his hands away from his face to look at how pretty he was when he was complimented. It was truly a sight to cherish.

“See, I was right. You’re so adorable.”

“Nooooo…” Chan speaks in his tiny voice — the voice that usually comes out when he’s extremely flustered, and only comes out around you. He pats his cheeks to feel how warm they’ve gotten and huffs, glaring at you frivolously. It’s his turn to grab the menu card placed on the side of the table, using it to cover his blush.

“Awhhh, you’re so cuteeee.” You squeal silently, feeling your heart jump out of your chest at the sight in front of you. Your husband being this way was rare, considering his busy schedule most of the time, but whenever he got like this, you always felt like you’d faint from how cute he really was.

“Stoppp,” He dreamily twinkles at the back of the menu card, trying to keep a straight face when you force him to put it down, but failing miserably.

“I’m gonna do this a lot more often if this is the result.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Why don’t you order, hm? I’m hungry.”

“Changing the subject… I wouldn’t allow it usually but since you said you’re hungry I’ll let you get away with it- but hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s that bag for?”

Chan hums, turning to finally remind himself of the bag that sits beside him. “You’ll see.” He winks at you, and you squint, letting it brush off before calling for the waiter to order. Was it a gift for you? You’re delving too deep into it, if he told you that you’d see, than you trust your husband enough to know that you would.

Once your dinner is completely done, you groan in satisfaction. “That pasta was so good.”

“So was that piccata. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something other than packaged ramen and rice. Thank you for bringing me here my love, I really appreciate it.”

“Awh, don’t thank me. I’m here to remind you to take breaks from time to time, you know.” You smile sweetly, cupping his cheek from across the table, and if it weren't for the table obstructing you, you’d have placed a delicate kiss on his lips too. The bustling noise of the diner is fairly irrelevant to you — but that’s the beauty of being with your husband. When he’s there, you seem to be caged in another reality, another dimension where only the two of you exist, and only the two of you enjoy each other’s company.

“I have to. You take such good care of me.” He turns his head to place a soft, lingering kiss onto your palm, and you can’t help but smile brighter (if that’s even possible). 

“I only do what I have to, and want to, love. You’ll never have to thank me, because I love you.”

Chan can feel himself blushing again and that, and you coo at the way he averts his eyes down to hide his flustered expression. “Hey, you’re doing that again.”

“Well, didn’t we already finish eating?”

“Yeah, but…” Chan can’t stop smiling, and his heart can’t stop feeling like it’s gonna disintegrate into a thousand butterflies any second. He then looks around, trying to avoid your eyesight and almost certain that you’d be looking at him with that i-made-you-shy-smirk, and his eyes land on the bag beside him. “Hey, I have something for you.”

“For me?” You clutch your chest at the gesture, feeling your insides warm up at the thought of him getting you something for his meet with you after many days. “Awh, you didn’t have to, love.”

Chan chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. “Pretty sure you’re gonna take that back once you see what’s inside.” He says that to build your excitement, and then hands you the bag, which you happily accept. You close your eyes for a split second to take in how happy, and how calm you feel right now, like everything is in place — and then open the bag to see what’s inside.

And when you see it, everything inside you short circuits. 

“Omo, nooo, are you serious?” You pull out the tiny wolf plushie out of the bag. It’s the same as the one you’d seen on your last date (and the one Chan had refused to buy you), except smaller, and therefore, cuter. You gently place your index finger on the wolf’s nose, cooing at how adorable it looked. “Tinie… it’s so small oh lord.” 

Chan can’t help but twinkle at how excited you are, especially with such a small gift. Really, he just reminded himself to wake up early and go to the shop the day after that date, and enquired to see if there was a smaller version available. Just that small gift having the ability to induce so much happiness in you, and just one smile from you having the capability to throw him off the edge and make his stomach flutter with a thousand butterflies, at that point, Chan knows he loves you.

“B-but, didn’t you not want to buy this?”

“You seemed to really like it, and besides, who am I to deny spoiling my wife?”

You make a cringy pout at him, and successfully make Chan laugh from your expression. “Hey, now you’re doing that thing where you make me blush.” You cuddle the plushie close to your chest, rocking it back and forth and relishing how small yet soft it felt against you. You then pull away to tug at the heart it holds in front of it. “Wolf Chan has all of my heart.” You say, smiling to yourself in pure bliss.

“All of it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay fine, my cute husband has most of it.”

“Hey, I wanted to be the one to have your heart!” He frowns and mimics your pout.

You snort at that, leaning forward as though to whisper something to your husband, and just like the last date, Chan leans in to listen to you.

“Well, don’t tell wolfchan… but you have all of my heart.”

And after that, your whole room is filled with tiny plushies that your husband spoils you with every time he takes you out on a date.

networks: @inkidz​​ @kpopscape​​ @kdiarynet​​ @fluffyskzclub​​ @destinyverse​​ @skzwritersclub​​ @kwritersworld​​ @lovesick-net​​

taglist: @cafejjunie​​ @sleepylixie​​ ​ @coco-riki​​ ​ @stayndays​​ ​ @yutassecretheaven​​ ​ @lost-midnight-flower​​ ​ @p2q3r4​​ @anskiie​​ ​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @cuddlychrisbang @orphic-chan​

[butwhyduh]

The Farm

Damian Wayne x Jon Kent

Summary: just 2 boys in love but won’t admit it. I have the attention span of a butterfly so this is as close as I get to a slow burn lmao. I just think they are adorable and I headcanon Damian as demisexual. I did actually age them above 18 but this is sfw. Only a little kissing. There’s a bigot but he gets punched.

“I heard about the farm,” Damian said as they sat on a rooftop in New York. “Sorry.” They were drinking milkshakes after saving the city. Well Jon was as Damian had a vegan smoothie instead.

“Yeah, they foreclosed,” Jon said, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically stony. “Thanks. Just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“You know I could help you.. financially. If you need,” Damian offered carefully. Jon shifted in his seat and took a drink of his shake.

“It’s not your job. I’ll figure out how to keep it. Don’t worry,” Jon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congrats on vet school. Not that it’s a surprise. You were top of your class.”

“Oh thanks. But seriously, I have no problem writing a check right now, Jon,” Damian emphasized. Jon stared at him silently. It was so tempting to let Damian solve his problems but that wasn’t the Kent way.

“I don’t know,” Jon said shifting uncomfortably. Damian noted that it wasn’t a no.

“I will be going to school in Metropolis in the fall. The farm in Smallville is a lot closer to the university than my place in Gotham,” Damian said hoping to come off as casual. Apparently not as Jon almost fell off the roof in shock.

“Live- with me,” he asked, his eyebrows rose quickly.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, that is what I would be proposing,” Damian answered. Jon looked at him with wide eyes before clearing his throat and softening the look on his face to more neutral. Damian definitely wasn’t meaning ‘moving in’ moving in. He was just being practical. He wasn’t in love with Jon the same way Jon was head over heels for Damian since he was like 13.

“It would be practical for us both,” he said and Jon relaxed. Yep, normal Damian not thinking of the social meaning of his words.

“I don’t have a butler,” Jon warned. “And I sometimes forget to do laundry or dishes.”

“Then I will make a chore chart,” Damian answered and Jon’s heart soared a little at the domestics of it all. Jon nodded with a grin.

“So when do I get my roommate?” Jon asked lightly. Or what he hoped was lightly. His farm was saved and Damian was moving in. He was surprised he wasn’t levitating yet.

“I need to sell my apartment first. And pack,” Damian contemplated. “Also I need to buy the farm. I’ll need 4 days.”

“4?!? I mean- that’s fine,” Jon answered. He began immediately imagining all the work he needed to do before Damian could move in. “You work fast.”

“Yes, money talks,” Damian answered as if it was normal for a 20 year old to say. Jon nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

True to his words, a moving truck showed up 4 days later. Jon had cleaned and organized everything, even scrubbing the walls and sweeping the barn. The workers quickly set up everything in the spare room just as Damian arrived.

Damian arriving was a sight Jon would never forget. Damian wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and a tan pair of dress pants over shiny black leather shoes as he carried in a large paper bag of produce. Damian had grown so much from the tiny 13 year old Jon had first known. He was now a full inch taller than Jon and probably 10 lbs heavier. It was funny since Jon was the one currently running around as Superman.

Damian sat his bag on the kitchen counter and wiped sweat from his brow. Jon was much more casually dressed in old blue jeans and a white t shirt with a rolled up and open red plaid button down over it. An old blue baseball cap was thrown over backwards on his head and little curls stuck out.

“You brought food. You know this is a farm, right?” Jon said with a smile. “We’re kinda known for having food.”

“I brought food to cook tonight,” Damian said trying to be casual. He had actually taken far too long deciding on the perfect food for him and Jon to eat their first night as roommates.

“Are you cooking for me?” Jon said with a pleased smile. The moving company was leaving and it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good start,” Damian said formally. “No need to be so happy. It’s just dinner.”

“Of course,” Jon said trying to straighten his face. But how could he when Damian was living with him and cooking for him? Impossible task.

Damian busied himself in the small kitchen, looking in every drawer and cabinet. He noted that in the dying evening light, it perfectly captured the sunset. That was something that people paid huge amounts to even glimpse from their place in Gotham and Jon got a 360 view everyday.

“Well I have to feed the animals but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything before I go?” Jon said in the doorway to the kitchen. He had thrown on a pair of rubber boots.

“Tt, you dare care for animals without me?” Damian said with a frown.

“Well I just thought- I mean you can- but you’re cooking,” Jon sputtered and Damian smiled.

“I’m playing with you. I’ll see them tomorrow. Otherwise the meal will be ruined,” Damian said. Jon laughed and shook his head as he left.

Damian looked at the photos that lined the hallway, smiling as he saw pictures of Jon as a child. Jon holding a fish he caught. Jon swinging a baseball bat. Jon holding up one end of a tractor. Right above it was a young Clark Kent doing the same. Damian shook his head with a little smile. He would never admit it but he was head over heels for Jon. Had been for a few years now.

“That’s the first time I lifted a tractor,” Jon said beside him. “Dad was so proud.”

“I imagine,” Damian answered. Clark was such a sore subject for Jon. His father had only been presumed dead the year before. Jon took it hard. He didn’t speak but watched Jon from the corner of his eyes.

“He never wanted to force me to be Superboy. I practically begged him. He was scared it was too dangerous,” Jon said with a sad smile. They both walked in the kitchen and Damian finished the food. Damian brought it to the table just as Jon shyly brought out a bottle of wine.

“Mr Kent, where did you get that?” Damian said with a little smile.

“Actually there’s an entire wine cellar full of the good stuff. Your father is quite fond of giving wine as a gift and Dad never liked to drink. So he stored it here,” Jon said pulling out a wine opener. “I thought we could drink it for him.”

“That’s very illegal,” Damian said expertly opening the bottle. “We’re both technically underage.”

“Anything is legal with enough money,” Jon said with a little grin and Damian laughed.

I’m an awful influence,” Damian replied. They spend the rest of the night eating and drinking wine before both crashing in their separate rooms in the early morning.

Jon crawled out of bed only a few hours later to feed the animals and get started on his day. He thanked his Kryptonian DNA for the lack of hang over he worried Damian would have. He crept quietly past his roommate’s door on his way out.

Jon returned a few hours later, still rather early, and was surprised by the smell of coffee. Damian was cooking breakfast for him. For them, Jon reminded himself. Damian was just his roommate. Damian nodded and poured Jon a cup of coffee.

“I thought you would still be asleep,” Jon admitted.

“I don’t require much sleep. Plus I want a tour of the property,” he said. Practical Damian as always, Jon thought.

“Sure, I’ll take you around. The farm and then town,” Jon added taking a huge plate of scrambled tofu and fried tomatoes. Damian had anticipated that.

“That’s a good plan. I don’t want to stand out in town. Should I wear a plaid shirt,” Damian asked.

“Uh, yeah. If you want. T shirts and jeans are fine too,” Jon said.

“May i borough these clothing from you? Mine are not appropriate for a farm,” Damian said casually and Jon willed himself to not have any emotion that Damian was going to wear his clothing.

Damian was extremely handsome in Jon’s plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. His bright green eyes and tan skin popped in the shirt and he had brushed his black hair neatly back as it had gotten long enough to fall in his eyes. Jon couldn’t help but stare at his Damian in his clothing. Logic be damned.

“What?” Damian asked looking at himself. “Does it look bad? I don’t want to appear foolish,” he said about to pull off the plaid shirt.

“No! No you look good. Nice,” Jon said and Damian’s lip twitched towards a smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to show me town first? Before we get muddy,” Damian said.

“Sure, that sounds good. I need to pick up feed anyways,” Jon said. They loaded into Jon’s old pickup. Krypto hopped into Damian’s lap as if he always had done it and they set off to town a few miles away.

“Here’s the library and the best Waffle House in Kansas. Second only to Ma Kent’s,” Jon said as they drove around. He showed Damian all the important sights in town. Damian had a hard time believing that everything was so compact and so small. Even the diner that Jon said they would eat lunch because they had the best pie short of Ma Kent.

They both, and Krypto, got out at the feed store and they treated Jon like old friends. He grabbed a basket and pushed it to the back as he chatted about all the interesting animals people owned to Damian. The Ferguson’s owned a pair of alpacas and old Skipper Smith had a parrot and monkey as pets.

Jon didn’t pay any attention as he easily lifted 4 50 lb bags of feed and casually put 200 lbs of feed in the basket. Damian looked around to see no one near. Jon did it again.

“Should get us through the week,” he said with a grin.

“You do know that most people don’t pick up 4 at once?” Damian told him quietly as they moved to the register. Jon stopped before nodded and laughing.

“You know I’ve never thought about it. Let’s get going before the diner gets a lunch rush,” he said. Jon tried to act more normal putting up the feed bags but tossing them one handed like bags of bread into the bed of a pick up truck was far from normal. Damian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The diner had about 12 booths and a row across the counter like old times. It probably was an older restaurant with the light blue tile and actual jukebox. Damian didn’t know what rush hour could possibly look like with all 7 people he’d seen since entering town but Jon seemed pleased to be earlier than them.

An older lady laid down a menu between them both and offered them coffee with a big grin. Jon ordered a chicken fried steak and Damian ended up getting the waffles. It was the only thing probably vegetarian on the menu.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you don’t eat meat. Sorry. Should I change my order,” Jon said raising his hand.

“No,” Damian said grasping Jon’s hand and pulling it down to the table. Jon’s heart just about beat out of his chest. “It’s fine. You don’t have to change what you eat for me.”

“Okay,” Jon said and the waitress came back to the table with drinks and eyed Damian’s hand on Jon’s.

“This your new partner, Kent,” she asked and Jon noted the judge tone to her voice as she sat down their glasses. Homophobia was still alive in the country. Damian didn’t notice.

“Yes, I just moved in last night,” Damian answered and Jon was frozen in time. Damian doesn’t understand what he means, Jon thought. He can’t.

“Oh, is that right? Took off to the city and brought back a city slicker. Well, each to their own,” she said with a passive aggressive smile. Jon sighed as she walked away. He didn’t know how to explain that to Damian. Was Damian even gay? Too late now. The whole town thought he was.

After eating their meal, Jon asked the waitress for pie to go. The diner had filled up and far too many people were glancing at the pair. Damian assumed it was because he was new in town or possibly they recognized him as a Wayne. Jon knew it was that he had brought home a man. Damian also didn’t quite pass as white with his tan skin and Arabic features so probably a dash of racism too.

Jon drive down to the park at the edge of town and parked by the pond. He put on a nice face but worried that Damian wouldn’t have as easy time in Smallville as Jon hoped.

“Something on your mind, Kent,” Damian said, sitting on the back hatch of the truck watching, the ducks swim.

“Nothing. Maybe I’m a little tired. Should have gone to bed earlier last night,” he said with a laugh. Damian looked at him out the corner of his eye but said nothing and continued eating his pie.

“This pie is made with quality,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“Better than Alfred’s?”

“Different. Alfred makes amazing meat pies but he never quite understood American pies,” Damian answered. Jon nodded.

“I have to work the rest of the week,” he warned Damian.

“I have plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” Damian answered. Jon knew he never had to worry about Damian that way. He always kept busy. This was probably his longest break.

The next 3 weeks consisted of getting up early to care for the animals before Jon left to work at the local paper. Damian would jog 3 miles down the dirt road that the Kent farm sat at the end of. By the end of the first week, a few of the neighbors would even wave at him. Jon counted himself as having the will of a Green Lantern to leave before Damian returned every morning. Damian was a sight to behold in his post workout glow pre-shower. He would come home and most of the time Damian was cooking dinner for him. Jon was really falling for the domestics of it all.

“Don’t get used to it, Kent,” Damian warned after Jon complimented an amazing dish Damian made. “Once school starts I can not act as a housewife to you.”

“You aren’t- Dami, you’re far from a housewife,” Jon sputtered. “I know that Flamebird has been seen in metropolis a few times this week alone.”

“Well, I needed to keep busy,” Damian said with a shrug. “Eat your eggplant.”

“I’ve probably eaten more vegetables this week than I have since I would summer with Ma,” Jon said. “But this is pretty good.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian said with a pleased smile. After dinner they sat on the swing on the porch and swung as they watched the sunset like an old married couple. Damian looked at Jon more often than he needed to as they talked about nothing. Jon was so pretty in the golden light. His bright blue eye and freckles looked adorable to Damian.

“And then in August we harvest-“ Jon had been saying before Damian cupped his face and pushed his lips against Jon’s. It was rough and their teeth clanged together and Jon pulled back with an “ow.”

“Shit,” Damian said, moving to get up. “I shouldn’t have- forget I-“

“Wait,” Jon said and Damian froze. He looked so uncertain and Jon had never seen that before. “Can we- can we try again?”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Damian said curtly, getting up. “Forget I did that. I apologize,” he said going inside.

Jon sat for a minute in shock. He had been in love with Damian forever and Damian finally kissed him and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Jon went inside and stood in front of Damian’s door. His hand tentatively considered knocking but Jon couldn’t do it. Just as he turned to walk away, Damian opened his door.

“I have to go to Gotham,” he said suddenly.

“What? If it’s me, you don’t have to leave,” Jon said quickly.

“No. My brothers need me,” Damian said and Jon noticed he had his suit on under his clothing.

“Do I need to come?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be back later this week hopefully,” Damian said dashing outside. The screen door swung and slapped the doorframe loudly. Jon ran on the porch.

“Week?” He called as Damian’s car pulled out the drive.

Jon fretted and obsessively watched the news everyday. Krypto was getting anxious without his 3 mile jog every morning. Late on the fourth day after Damian left, Jon heard the front door open. He raced to the door. Damian looked weary and had a slight limp.

“Hi,” Jon said looking Damian over and Damian offered a tired smile. Nothing broken. “Do you need help?”

“No. I need to sleep and I will be fine,” Damian said stubbornly. Jon rolled his eyes and helped him to his bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. I will probably sleep late tomorrow,” Damian warned.

“Sure. Of course,” Jon said slowly closing the door as Damian fell asleep. Jon barely slept that night and got up early and called out of work for the day. Damian got up uncharacteristically late around 10 am.

“How are you?” Jon asked, offering him coffee. Damian took the drink before sitting next to Jon. He had a black eye and that limp was still around. The sun shone in bright in the kitchen and Damian was once again reminded the vast difference between smallville and Gotham.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said quietly. Jon didn’t want to pounce Damian the first second he got home but it was very hard to not want to talk about the kiss.

“You got mail,” Jon said, handing Damian a big Manila envelope that had come in the day before. Damian wordlessly opened it as he sipped coffee.

“Oh it’s yours,” he handed it over to Jon. Jon opened it with a confused look.

It was a deed. The Kent farm deed. The Kent farm deed in Jon’s name. He looked up at Damian who had a tired half smile.

“It’s in my name. You put it in my name,” he said. “W-why?”

“It’s the Kent farm. There’s too many things with the Wayne name on it,” he shrugged. “Plus I’m far from a farmer. It should be yours.”

“God Damian,” Jon said with tears in his eyes. He pulled Damian into a hug who squawked a protest that Jon ignored. “Thank you. I can’t- thank you,” he said wetly. Damian ignored how Jon was quietly crying on him. His grandma and dad passing had affected him hard and Damian knew he was crying over more than a house and land.

“You’re welcome,” Damian finally whispered and Jon cried even harder. Damian softly pat his back awkwardly. Jon leaned back but didn’t let Damian go. He gazed at Damian with the softest look.

“God Damian,” Jon repeated. “Do you even know how much I love you?”

Damian froze and just blinked at Jon who had pulled back but not out of the hug. “What?” He simply said and Jon’s face started to contort in pain. “Hold on,” Damian said and Jon warily looked at him. Damian knew he had to lean in or Jon would take it back and Damian would be too scared to do anything until Jon did this again. And he wasn’t sure how long Jon would wait.

Damian gently cupped Jon’s face in his hands and Jon breathed in quickly. Damian was clearly nervous. Damian noted how his face was soft and his skin warm. This time he gently bent over and softly pressed his lips against Jon’s. Jon quickly reacted by leaning in toward Damian. Jon could feel the rough pads of Damian’s fingers and taste the coffee Damian had been drinking. After a short while, Damian pulled back but not away.

“I truly care for you too,” he said softly and Jon grinned. “I’ve cared for you for a long time.”

“Same,” Jon said before leaning in to kiss Damian again. Damian kissed for another few seconds before pulling back again. This time Jon tried to follow his lips before stopping. Jon’s breath was erratic and fast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve just never- I’ve never“ Damian started a bit lost for words. Jon understood what he meant.

“You’ve never been with a man,” Jon said gently.

“I’ve never taken the time for relationships with anyone. I’ve always been too busy,” Damian admitted. He played with the edge of a napkin nervously. He would never openly admit to being worried that his lack of experience was a flaw.

“We can go slow. Whatever you want,” Jon said and he finally looked at Damian the way he had never let himself before: like he was in love with him. Damian nodded.

“I’ve just never found anyone that interesting. I mean, beside you. After a while. I wanted to throw you off a bridge at first,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“I know. You told me,” Jon said. “We should go out to eat. There’s a place downtown that has vegan options.”

“I didn’t even know there was a downtown here,” Damian admitted and Jon laughed.

“It’s a small town. Not a hut in the woods.”

The place wasn’t ‘rush hour’ packed but had plenty of tables with patrons. Damian and Jon sat at a booth and Damian almost couldn’t handle the lovey way Jon was looking at him. Jon was staring at Damian like he was the moon, even though Damian stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town in his turtleneck and dress slacks. But that was his comfort clothing and he had given up on fitting in long ago.

“I’m going to the restroom. Order for me?” Damian asked and Jon nodded. As Damian walked towards the back of the restaurant, a man in a brown jacket and rubber boots purposefully shoved Damian with his shoulder as he walked by. Damian turned to glare at him.

“Sorry, didn’t see any fruitcakes around here,” the guy said and Damian bristled. Before he could make a scene, Jon moved over to them.

“Hi Tyler. Do we have a problem here?” Jon said uncharacteristically cold. That guy didn’t realize that he picked the worst pair to insult. Tyler looked between Damian and Jon before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.

“Nothing worth it,” Tyler said turning around. “Bad enough to bring a fruitcake to town, it had to a brown one too,” he muttered and Damian stiffened. He knew that he got looks when he went into town. He was probably the only person that spoke more than English or Spanish in town and certainly the only one to speak Arabic.

But before Damian could do anything else but feel disgust, Jon had punched the guy in the face. Well it was more of a flick with his fist but the guy went down like a rock. Damian hid his smile as him and Jon were hurried out of the restaurant with their food to go by a worried waitress who apologized to the pair.

As they walked back to the pickup truck, Damian reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand who lit up almost instantly. Damian ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he walked. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon either.

“You know, it’s not everyday that a guy gets Superman to defend his honor,” Damian said quietly but playfully and Jon laughed.

“Can’t handle bigots. I’ll let you punch the next one,” Jon said with a shrug.

“I would have punched that one,” Damian answered. He turned and pulled Jon to face him before taking his free hand that wasn’t carrying a bag. Damian gently cupped Jon’s face to place a kiss on Jon’s lips before going back to walking. Jon had a stupid smile all the way back home.

[riffheartsgraziella]

The Doctor’s Office - Graziella’s POV

A/N: Here’s the first part of the new HC series with @bernardolovesanita! I was going to wait until tomorrow to post, but it’s a snow day for me today, so I figured why not post it now? @bernardolovesanita is going to post Anita’s POV when they get back from vacation!

I wanted to use characterizations and backstories from the 2021 film, so Graziella and Riff will be based on Paloma’s and Mike’s portrayals.

Also, the last name I’ve given Riff is the one I’ve always used in all my fics, as it’s the last name he was given in the 1961 novelization by Irving Shulman.

Sighing softly in relief after climbing the three flights of stairs to her doctor’s office, Graziella took a seat in the far corner of the waiting room, having just finished signing in for her appointment. Once she was comfortably settled, she ran a protective hand over her growing belly. Nearly four months along, she had finally started showing a couple weeks earlier. She loved pressing her hands to her stomach, hoping to feel signs of the baby moving. Her doctor had told her that probably wouldn’t happen for a few more weeks, but she was hopeful. Her baby was the only thing that brought her hope anymore. It had been three months since the rumble, but she still felt Riff’s loss like a sharp blade in her heart every day. There were some days when she woke up and believed he would be next to her, only to have her hopes crushed at the sight of the empty side of the bed. But her baby—their baby—had brought her back to life. She hadn’t even realized she was pregnant until almost a month after the rumble. When she’d gone to see the doctor for the first time, he’d told her she was nearly eight weeks along. It still shocked her to think that for the last few weeks of Riff’s life, she had been walking around with his child inside her and neither of them had known it.

Graziella was living with Velma now, the final straw of living with her mother having been when her ma made rude comments about her child’s “dead daddy” when she’d finally told her she was pregnant. But she had gotten a job at a local diner a few weeks ago, and she was planning on working hard so that she could save up enough for her own place, a place for her and her child. She was just starting to daydream about all the things she and her baby would get to do one day when the sound of the door opening caught her attention. She turned her head, her blonde curls brushing against her cheek. As soon as she saw the person walking towards the front desk, however, her face turned pale and she clutched the armrest of her chair. It was Bernardo’s girl. Anita. She hadn’t seen her since that night—since that awful night at Doc’s. That night when—Graziella shook her head. She couldn’t think about it. She couldn’t think about any of it. What was Anita doing here? Velma had helped her find this doctor, a doctor who specialized in obstetrics, which she had learned was a fancy word for childbirth. Anita would only be here if she…oh, God. Apparently, Riff and Bernardo had more in common than they’d realized. “Mrs. Lorton, are you okay?” One of the nurses was standing over her, a paper cup full of water in hand. “You look very pale all of a sudden.” Mrs. Lorton. The first time Graziella had ever come to this office, she had written Riff’s last name as her own on her intake papers. Then she’d checked off that she was married. Widowed, she’d told them. They must have known she was lying. She didn’t even have a ring, though she hadn’t taken off Riff’s Miraculous Medal and his mother’s bracelet since the day Officer Krupke had given them to her after their trip to the morgue. But even though they must have known that she wasn’t really Mrs. Lorton, they were always kind and referred to her as such. “I’m fine. Thank you,” Graziella said, trying not to tremble as she accepted the cup of water. The nurse watched her for another minute before heading back to her station. What were the odds that Anita would also be pregnant, that she would be at the same doctor’s office as Graziella, and at the same time? With horror, Graziella looked around the mostly empty waiting room. Once Anita was done signing in, she would have to sit down. And when she did, there was really no way she would avoid seeing Graziella. Graziella didn’t feel ready to see her and she definitely didn’t want to talk to her. Panicked, she turned her face away and shifted in her seat so that her back was mostly to the waiting room. She clutched her belly desperately, clinging to the hope her baby gave her and trying to push all other painful memories out of her mind. Would she ever be able to escape the memories of that awful night?

Tag List: @loverisi @whisperofsong @darklingswhore @rosalinacl22

[juniperskye]

Letters to Dean.

Part 9.

Flashbacks will be marked using **

This part will begin immediately after part 8 and there will be a brief jump to that evening, as well as flashbacks. I’m also thinking about giving the daughter a name because that would be much easier than typing (y/d/n) out every time…what do you guys think?

Dean had seemed so excited to hear about this Cas guy…why did that hurt so much? When you had walked in to this diner you had seen a glimpse of something that resembled love, hope even, but that look had disappeared the second his eyes landed on (y/d/n).

She hadn’t realized she’d zoned out until Sam had called her name to regain her attention.

“You okay? You zoned out there for a second.”

“Yeah Sam, I’m fine. Sorry. Look you guys it really wasn’t much more than that. He’d brought Dean up but I had a bad feeling in my gut so I had insisted that he had the wrong girl and I had no idea who this Dean guy was.” She looked down to her hands

“Did he say anything after that?” Dean asked

“Oh um, I don’t think so. He seemed disappointed almost. I can’t be sure though, he was really hard to read.” She looked over at (y/d/n) with a weak smile.

She started to zone out again while the guys seemingly began their typical hushed conversations that you weren’t meant to be a part of…this is how it had always been and you tried and tried to convince yourself that it was because they were brothers and they were all the other had.

** “Dean! Dean baby you have to see this listing, it’s a bit of a fixer upper but I think it could be something beautiful!” She called to him

Walking into the kitchen of their tiny apartment, she’d found Dean. His back was to her as he’d been in a hushed conversation on the phone. He turned around at the sound of her padding through the doorway. Mouthing a quick “sorry it’s Sammy” to her and she’d walk away…feeling only slightly defeated.

It’s his brother. It’s nothing more than that.**

“I should probably get going guys. You clearly have to figure stuff out with this Cas guy and I should be getting this little one home and cleaned up.” She started to gather her bag and everything (y/d/n) had managed to pull out of it

“Wait, I um…what about. We need to finish our conversation from earlier.” Dean rarely stumble over his words. She’d never seen him so unsure of himself.

“We will, but I’m exhausted and I really need to get her cleaned up. I’m in a little place not too far from here Dean. You can come tonight if you want to talk about it.” She looked to his eyes to see him pondering the thought, had he always carried this much uncertainty in those eyes? She wondered.

————————————————————

They had gotten home a little bit ago, (y/d/n) had all but sprinted into the house. Hands sticky with syrup, running for her toys.

“Oh absolutely not little miss. Straight to the tub for you! Go get ready for a bath”

She could hear the little feet stumbling out of clothes and into the tub as she rounded the corner into the bathroom. She smiled to herself and at her beautiful daughter. Starting up the water, adding just enough bubbles.

“Mommy, is Mr. Sam my daddy?”

She looked into her daughters eyes wide with shock.

“No honey. Why’d you think that?” She wasn’t lying to her…just trying to find the appropriate way to tell her young daughter that she’d just met her father and uncle.

“You always said my daddy had kind eyes, just like mine. Mr. Sam had kind eyes.”

** “Mommy tell me about daddy again!”

“Honey I’ve told you about him, what else do you want to know?”

“What does he look like?”

“Oh honey your dad was so handsome. He’s tall, just tall enough that my head would rest perfectly against his chest when we hugged. He has soft, short sandy hair…you know that color that’s not blonde but it’s also not quite brown. He has beautiful green eyes that hold this kindness deep within them…just like yours baby.”

“What else!” (Y/d/n) was so excited to finally hear about her father.

“He has this cute dusting of freckles across his face right here” she’d brush her finger over her daughters face “he has strong hands, callused from years of hard work. And he always smelled like the perfect combination of sweat, whiskey and leather…it’s hard to explain but it was always uniquely him.”

(Y/d/n) turned her nose up at that and they giggled. She ran her fingers through her daughters hair. **

The bath had just finished draining and (y/d/n) was picking out pajamas. Once she was dressed she walked over and sat next to her mom on her bed.

“It’s Mr. Dean huh? He’s my dad?”

“Yeah baby he is. You need to know that he’s a good man.”

“Then why wasn’t he here with us?”

God she was the most intuitive 6 year old she’d ever encountered.

“Honey it’s not that simple. I’ll tell you more about it another day I promise…for now just get some sleep okay?”

“Okay mommy, I love you.”

“I love you more baby” she kissed her daughters forehead and went to pickup around the house, patiently waiting for his arrival.

——————————————————————

She had been picking up, really, but when she’d bent over to pickup her fallen earring she’d noticed the stack of letters, neatly tucked under the mattress. She’d kept her secrets there still just as she’d told him all those years ago.

Is tonight the night. Should she finally give him the letters she’d written.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly made her way to the front door, opening it wide enough to see not only Dean, but the stranger, Cas, from the other day.

“Dean what’s going on?” She’d question him

“Sweetheart it’s not safe to stay here and talk about this. You need to pack somethings for you and (y/d/n) and come with us. Okay?” Dean spoke quickly and with confidence like he usually did.

Things were moving in fast forward, but she felt like someone had pressed pause on her. Dean moved swiftly around her place grabbing random articles and stuffing them into a duffel bag. Where had he gotten that bag? It wasn’t until Cas called to Dean that he’d realized she hadn’t moved.

“Sweetheart are you with me? Hey, let’s take a deep breath and then we have to get your stuff and get going okay?” He delicately places his hands on her cheeks to bring her eyes up to his own.

She looks to him, eyes begging for his help. They take a few deep breaths together until their heartbeats sync up. She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. He’s quick to swipe it away. It’s like they’re all alone in this moment, the only thing that grounds them is the sound of giggles coming from the hallway.

Looking over they’re met with (y/d/n) holding Cas’ hand while she laughs at something he’s said.

“Mommy, Cas was helping me pack for our trip. He’s kinda weird!” She laughs out.

This has her and Dean both biting back smiles before getting back to what’s important - packing and getting the hell out of dodge.

——————————————————————

“Dean you said we weren’t safe…what’s going on” she’d question him once they were packed and in the car.

“I’ll explain everything to you once we get to the bunker okay. We will sit and we will hash everything out…wait, what do you have there?” He’d only just notice the stack of letters you were grasping on to.

“They’re letters I’ve written to you over the years Dean wait bunker? What are you talking about?”

It would seem as though they had a lot more to discuss than either of them had originally thought.

Please do not steal my work. The images within the Polaroids are not mine. But the whole image is my property as it comes from within my personal journal. The story is mine however I do not own the characters depicted. Please feel free to message me about this story - ideas for a new one - questions or comments!

[forever-rogue]

Afterglow - Part 8

A/N: Is it time for some much need talking? Hmm....perhaps. As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions; slight language 

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You drifted in and out of sleep that night, waiting up several times due to the jolt of a startling nightmare. At first you almost forgot where you were or what was going on - why were you asleep on the couch? But it hit you like a ton of bricks; Frankie Morales was currently asleep in your bed. 

A few times throughout the night you’d gotten up and stretched your stiff bones and wandered to the bedroom door, opening it just a crack to peek inside. Each time, Frankie was fast asleep with Daisy next to him. It caused you to relax a little, knowing that he was okay, and you needn’t worry about an overdose or anything like that. But it didn’t ease the pain of seeing him again or knowing that he was struggling with an addiction...or something.

The universe had put an odd situation on your plate. 

Once you couldn’t sleep any longer, and had gotten tired of lying on the couch, which it had turned out was not an ideal sleeping situation, you made your way into the kitchen to start breakfast. You weren’t even sure what to do really, but it was a bit of normalcy to offset your otherwise shaken up routine. 

As soon as you started the coffee, something that was an absolute necessity, you’d left messages for your clients apologizing for the early call and canceling their appointments due to a last minute emergency. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind. As the coffee percolated filling the kitchen with warmth and the delicious smell, you reached into the fridge and started pulling eggs, bacon, and other items to make breakfast with. Grabbing a bowl and a pan, you quickly settled on pancakes, wondering if they were still his favorite. He’d always loved them when you were younger and on more than one occasion had your little date nights ended in a small 24-hour diner, where’d he chow down on them. 

The memory made you smile,  as you recalled one particular time when he eagerly topped off his pancakes with fresh fruit and whipped cream, which had gotten on the corners of his mouth. You’d reached over and wiped the whipped cream away, licking it clean from your own finger. It seemed like yesterday, even though it was so long ago. 

Sighing, you pushed the memory away and carried on preparing the batter and throwing some bacon into the oven. As soon as your coffee pot signaled that it was done, you grabbed your favorite mug, followed by another and poured the black coffee in. You finished yours off as you liked, topping the other off with a sprinkle of cinnamon. It amazed for a mere fraction of a second just how well you still remembered the things he liked. But your amazement was quickly cut short when you heard a quiet throat clear from the opposite side of the counter. 

“H-hi,” he said quietly, almost tentatively as he seemed to look anywhere but your eyes. You took the cup you had prepared for him and set it down in front of him, motioned for him to take a seat at the bar. 

“You look like hell,” you commented as he sat and clutched the steaming cup between his hands. He made a small sound of agreement as you turned back to your pan and poured some batter in, “I made it how you used to like it....I presume it’s still the same?”

“Yeah,” he said as he put the mug to his mouth and took a long sip, “thank you.”

“Mhmm,” it was a small, noncommittal sound as you focused your attention on the pancakes and eggs. Daisy came over and you offered her a treat before getting her into the backyard and preparing her breakfast. The tension in the air was palpable and you could see that Frankie was eager to say something. But he didn’t dare to be the one that broke the silence. Gods knew you were just as eager to say something, a lot of things honestly, but all of that could wait for now.

Once everything was finished, you grabbed two plates and piled them high with a spread of items, topping them off with some fresh berries on the side. Daisy had been a good girl, clambering between the two of you, so you offered her a piece of bacon and a few berries, which she eagerly took and ran off with and  into her bed to eat. 

Handing a plate to Frankie, you set down your own, as far away from him as possible at the small bar. It didn't create a huge divide between you, but the point came across loud and clear.

The two of you ate in silence for some time, the only sound in the kitchen was the scraping of utensils and a few small huffs from Daisy. She gave you an almost pathetic look a few times, and you just rolled your eyes at her. You knew she wanted to be out and in the company of others; once she'd overcome her initial fear of people, she thrived in attention.

"Oh hush," you told her before passing her another strip of bacon, "we'll go for a walk later, good girl. Or maybe you can go play  with Eddie."

Frankie remained silent as he watched you, doing his best to keep a smile from stretching across his features. But you were too quick and caught him staring.

"I've been bringing her into the office with me every day," you explained, "she likes being around the people and they often find just as much comfort in her. It's a win-win really."

"Hmm," he commented as he shoved another bite in his mouth, "office? W-what kind of office?”

"Yeah," you said softly, "I, ugh...I'm a therapist.” 

He caught your eye and offered you a slightly confused look. Never once had you ever mentioned wanting to be a therapist. In fact, you had wanted to avoid anything you had once deemed similar to your parents as a big no. Coming from a surgeon and a doctor wasn’t a far stretch from a therapist. When the barista at the coffee shop had referred to you as ‘doctor’, he had envisioned...many other things. This was very similar to things you had proclaimed you'd never wanted to be, "oh. I thought you wanted to be a zoologist. That’s what you always wanted to...study animals. UCLA-"

"Yeah," you cut him off sharply, "I did once. In another lifetime. I had to make decisions back then.. Ones I didn't think I'd make or have to make. I thought things were going to play out in a very different way but the joke was on me, right? So, here we are. I'm good at my job and it just...worked out."

"But do you like it?" he asked tentatively as you narrowed your eyes at him. No one ever really asked you that...it was just sort of assumed that you did, or if you didn't, that didn't matter one way or another..

"What does it matter, Francisco? A job is a job," you almost snapped at him, "but yes. For the most part I enjoy my job. I'm glad to be helping people that need it.”

"It just didn't seem like something you wanted to do..." he trailed off softly.

"Well, I also didn't think I'd go to college alone and have to make an entirely different series of choices. I didn’t think you’d just leave me and go into the military - and you were going to leave me in the dark about as long as you could. Remember that?" you knew it was a dig, the lowest of blows, but in that moment you didn't care. Things had ended a long time ago and at the end of the day, it didn't matter anymore, "because I do. So yeah, my life plans changed. But you know about that just as well. How did that work out for you?!"

You hated yourself in that moment, and as soon as the words left your mouth you wished you could take them back. You hated how much venom was lacing your words, how angry you still were with him. It was twenty years worth of pain and hurt bubbling to the surface all at once. And yet - the look on Frankie’s face was enough to make your heart break. Sighing lightly, you tossed the fork onto your plate and slid out of the bar stool. Tears were prickling at the back of your eyes as you held up your hands in surrender, lips trembling slightly. You tried to slick past him, but he reached for your arm to try and hold you back, "honey-"

"I gotta go," you said, pulling out of his grasp as motioned for Daisy to follow you. Nervously looking between the two of you, she trotted over and perked up slightly when you grabbed her leash, "I-I'll be back. I’m sorry.”

You dashed out the door as swiftly as possible, letting it shut softly behind you as Frankie stared at it, a heavily, weary sigh escaped his own lips. Setting down his own fork, he pushed his plate away, no longer feeling hungry. He wasn’t mad at your words, or the spite you still held for him. If anything it made him hurt just as much. He’d always been confused on why and when you finally decided to cut your ties with him, but he never blamed you. If the roles were reversed he might have done the same. But he’d never hated you for it. He could understand why you did what you did. He was just Frankie after all, he wasn’t worth waiting around for you. Just because he’d never let you go, didn’t mean he expected the same of you.

Standing up, he picked up his own plate, followed by yours and brought them to the sink. Turning on the tap, he set everything under the warm water to soak before quickly deciding to just clean up the kitchen then and there. It was the least he could do. Frankie carefully put everything away, making sure everything was going into what he was sure were the proper spots before loading the dishes into the empty dishwasher. He stopped himself when he reached for your empty coffee mug, holding it delicately in his large hands as he examined. It was a soft yellow, covered in little flowers and beehives and bees. A forlorn little smile crossed his features as he decided to hand wash the mug, drying it with the utmost care before putting it away in the cabinet.

The whole process to getting everything clean again took him some time, but by the time he was satisfied with his handiwork you still weren’t back from your walk with Daisy. It gave him pause to wonder if he should just head home or if he should wait for your return. Eventually he decided to opt for the latter, figuring it would be rude to just run out on you. If nothing else, he’d thank you for the help from the previous evening and then leave, but a smaller part of him hoped that you’d ask him to stay. To talk. There was a lot to talk about after so many years. 

And yet - there was nothing. The relationship was done. Ended. Nothing. 

He went back down the hall to straighten your bedroom up and gather his shoes, but he trekked slowly, taking a moment to study all the pictures on your walls. Some of it was more or less generic artwork, some were photos of you with friends and family over the years. He had admired each of them, how you had changed from the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with to the still beautiful woman he was infatuated with. It was amazing to him that you still looked the same after all this time - the same soft eyes, the same sweet smile, the aura of kindness that seemed to follow you everywhere. He was nothing like he once was, not in his mind anyway, instead of ragged and worn out. A sight for sore eyes.

Shaking his head to himself, he finished the walk back to your room and began to tidy up, making it a point to keep away from anything that looked personal. But in his keen attempt to make your bed, he accidentally knocked over what liked a journal from your nightstand. Groaning at his carelessness, he picked it up and attempted to set it back, but instead,  a couple of photographs fell out of it. He swooped them up and curiosity got the better of him as he studied the pictures intently.

They were of you - you and him. 

One of them was from one of the winters you shared together, the two of you were bundled up in thick jackets and scarves, Frankie’s old beanie on your head, with the skating rink visible in the background. You both looked so young, so carefree, so happy. You were smiling for the camera but his eyes were slowly focused on you, the grin on his face speaking volumes. 

The other one was from Halloween, and the two of you were dressed up as Morticia and Gomez from the Adams Family. Your feeble attempts at costumes had been laughable, but the joy in your faces was undeniable. This time he was smiling for the camera, an arm wrapped tightly around, but you were looking at him as though he was your whole world. 

You had kept the photos after all these years. He let out a long breath before tucking them back into the journal and setting it back on your nightstand. As he finished making up the bed and slipping his shoes back on, he heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Daisy’s footsteps. She eagerly nudged open the door and wagged her tail at him, trying to get his attention for pets. 

"Frankie?" your soft voice reached his ears as he gave Daisy a nervous look before slipping out of your bedroom. He stood in the hallway, nervously twist his hat in his hands as you stood at the other, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Hey," he softly as you just nodded. The two of you stood there for a moment, silently staring at each other. When you didn't say anything he started walking down the small way, "I should go..."

But before he could slip past you, you reached out and grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly firm, but gentle, manner. He turned and gave you a confused expression, "stay. W-w should talk...instead of just running every time we see each other."

"Okay," he agreed as you gave him a momentary smile before leading him outside, to the small little backyard sanctuary you had created. It was crisp and cool, the promise of fall and new hope with the changing season lingering in the air. Daisy was close at hand, bringing out a toy to play with as sat down at the patio table, Frankie taking a seat at the other end of the table. It was silent for some time before you finally mustered up the courage to talk to say anything.

"I'm sorry for earlier," your voice was quiet but Frankie heard you loud and clear, "I shouldn't have exploded like that at you. It wasn't fair."

"'S okay," he insisted. In his mind he deserved a lot more than just a few angry words. A new silence loomed over you as you watched your dog run around play, easily keeping herself amused.

"I was supposed to get married," you blurted out suddenly and Frankie's attention was hyperfocused on you, his deep brown eyes trying to decipher every expression, "in a few weeks actually."

"Oh," he said casually as he if hadn't noticed that you weren't sporting the huge engagement ring you had been wearing when he first ran into you again, "I-I figured...the ring and all."

"Yeah," you said with a scoff, looking over at him and rolling your eyes dramatically, "was going to. Completely dodged a bullet with that one."

"W-what happened?" he wouldn't deny that the fact that your engagement ended instilled a small sense of hope in him, "if you don't mind me asking..."

"A lot of things, honestly,” you shrugged lightly. It wasn’t a complete lie...there were a lot of factors that ultimately led to your decision. The fact that Frankie had appeared out of the blue, out of nowhere, was just another incidental happenstance that seemed to jog you into making the decision. But you weren’t about to admit that to him...not yet anyway, “I basically realized I was unhappy...that he was everything I never wanted and the life I was leading was the one I had wanted to avoid for so long.”

“Oh,” he completed quietly as you threw up your hands in exasperation, more at yourself than anything else. It was just…a hard situation. It wasn’t easy for anyone and with Frankie right there next to you it was hard not to picture a life with him. What would it all have been like if he had been the one?

“I was becoming...became everything I hated,” you laughed dryly at yourself, casting a quick glance over at him as he was watching you intently, “all those things I said I never would be. I ended up being them. I ended up as this quiet, pathetic excuse of a woman that just did what everyone told her to do, what everyone expected of her. I became the model daughter my parents always wanted - working in what they deemed a proper job, never speaking out of turn, marrying the successful lawyer, never straying from the line. And then...I just realized...this isn’t me. This was never me. It’s not who I’m meant to be. I knew that if I went through with that wedding and everything that came afterwards I would never be happy again. Despite the years of self loathing, I couldn’t do that to myself.”

Frankie was listening intently as you seemed to work this out within yourself as the words poured out of your mouth. He knew exactly what you meant, and at the end of the day, he was proud of you for being able to make the decisions you needed to for yourself, “so you just called it all off?”

“Yeah,” you dabbed at the tears that pearled up and slipped down your cheeks, before laughing lightly. In the moment, it had been a bold, dramatic move, one that you considered almost worthy of a cinematic masterpiece, but looking back on it, you had probably seemed like a mad woman, “basically. It was the day of my last dress fitting and it just...hit me. I was with the dress maker and her niece and they were asking me all about my fiance and asking me if I was excited and how in love we were and everything. And it hit me then and there - I couldn’t do this. So...I bailed and left. Called it off an hour later. You should have seen the poor things! Oh Frankie, they looked so surprised, but they understood. I paid for the dress and I told them to donate it to someone that deserved it.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed out as he pictured the scene. You caught his eye and the two of you started laughing together. Gods, in that moment, it was easy, so easy to just laugh and not think about anything else. It still felt so effortless with him, even despite everything that happened between the two of you, “you just did that!”

“You know what they say about mad women, Frankie,” you teased, taking a moment to collect yourself. Looking back on it now it was funny, but in reality...it had been a harsh end to your previous life and a bumpy start to your new one, “but...at the end of the day it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t marry Chad and just be Mrs. Wadsworth forever.”

“Chad? Wadsworth?” Frankie couldn’t help but snicker at the names as you nodded before hanging your head, giving him just a glimpse of that smile that always made him weak in the knees, “oh honey, you should have known from the name alone.”

“I was a fool,” you admitted with a dramatic sigh, “a self righteous fool. At the time it had seemed...right.”

“Did you love him?”

“I-I suppose I did,” you said softly, “at one point or another. I don’t know where along the line it just ended up as routine and just me going through the motions but obviously it did…”

“I’m sorry you had to do through all of that,” he said quietly as you shrugged. It wasn’t his fault...that was all of your own doing, “how did your family take it?”

“About as well as you'd think,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep more tears from flowing worth, “you know them, Frankie, they’re the same as they’ve always been. At first it seemed like my mom understood, and she seemed to care, but by the next day it was like a flip had been switched. They had seemed to side with Chad and somehow none of feelings were relevant. And all of the friends we’d had basically decided that I was the bad guy. So it kind of...left me to figure things out on my own. Luckily, I do have a few really good friends left. They helped me out a lot...even to find this house actually. Things could have been a lot worse...they were rough but they’re getting better.”

“Still,” he almost whispered at you, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. You don’t deserve it.”

“Such is life,” you looked at him and offered an almost teary smile, “but about you? Did you ever get married or anything?”

“No,” he answered quickly as you tried to ignore the small skip of your heart. He tapped his fingers against the glass top of the table for a few moments, “there was never really...anyone else.”

“Really!?”

“Nope,” he was almost nervous as he swallowed the lump in his throat, “I was in the military for a long while...overseas, special ops...never really had much chance to worry about that kind of stuff back then.”

“What about when you got out?”

“There were a few here and there,” he admitted quietly, “nothing serious, nothing that lasted more than a few months.”

“Oh,” it was your turn to be surprised. For some reason he had struck you as the type that would have settled down...the type of man that would almost yearn for domestic bliss. Little did you know he did exactly that, just not with anyone that he encountered so far. 

“Yeah,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “it hasn’t been much of an exciting life.”

“Surely it must have been,” you insisted, “special ops? That sounds like it be one adventure after another...but it was the military…”

“I was glad to get out when I got out,” he insisted and you could tell there was a lot more he wanted to say. But he tensed up lightly and you weren’t going to push him to tell you anything. If he wanted to, he would, but as far as you were concerned he owed you nothing. And yet...a small part of you hoped he did still want to open up and confide in you.

“What...what do you do now?”

“I’m a mechanic,” he stated simply and pointedly looked away from your eyes. He didn’t know if he wanted to see the expression in them, to know if you suddenly thought him to be much lower, “it’s nothing much but I-”

“It’s brilliant, Frankie,” you insisted, quickly cutting him off and causing his head to whip in your direction, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “you had always had a knack for stuff like that - it never made any sense to me, but you? You always had a sharp mind.”

“I was a pilot too!” he eagerly told you, and you could have died at the excited expression on his face, “in the military and…”

“And what, Frankie?” you asked, noticing the rapid change in his mood, almost as if he hadn’t meant to tell you quite that much. He stilled for a moment before looking away, “Frankie?”

“And for a while after that for private individuals,” he almost murmured, “but umm...n-not at the moment.”

“Okay,” you replied, telling him in that one word that he never needed to go past what was comfortable for him, “Frankie, I’m glad that things worked out for you...really.”

He just nodded, and gave you a weary look before silence fell over the two of you again. You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them, watching as Daisy sniffed everything before bringing her ball over to Frankie. He gently took it from her and tossed it across the yard, repeating the action several times over before she grew bored of it and went to follow around a squirrel. 

After some time, you cleared your throat, deciding that now was as good of a time as any to lay everything out on table. What was the worst that just happen? He would get mad, you would get mad and then he left? It wouldn't put you in a worse position than before. There was literally nothing left to loose, and you'd hate yourself if you didn't at least tell him. If nothing else, you would get it all off of your chest.

"T-there was another reason I called off my wedding..." you admitted and slowly shifted his gaze back to you, "umm, everything kind of...I realized how unhappy I was and that things weren't right after...after running into you. That day at the coffee shop when I spilled coffee all over myself."

Frankie tried his best to keep his expression neutral but it felt like a swarm of butterflies had just been released into his stomach. He was trying not to read too much into your words but he was loathe to deny his excitement. That meant you had felt it too; he wasn't wrong in thinking it was just him. He looked at you to go on, making a small sound in his throat, "I-I remember..."

"It set off...something," you said softly, "and that's what caused me to realize everything else."

"If nothing else, I'm glad the spilled coffee led you to realizing that you deserve better...that you deserve the world..."

"I...I never stopped loving you," the words shot out of your mouth before you could do anything to stop them and Frankie's jaw dropped and practically hit the floor, "seeing you made me realize that...there was never anyone else that I could ever love because they weren't you. Even after everything that happened, all this time, it always came back to you."

"Honey bee," the nickname flowed easily and you didn’t bother to correct him. You liked the way it sounded, you had missed it even. It was so much better than sugar plum, which still made you cringe to even think about, “you…”

“I know,” you said quietly, bringing your hands up to your face as you tried to hide and  make yourself feel smaller. You hadn’t, not in a million years thought you would see him again, let alone admit this to him or yourself, “I just...the more I thought about it, especially with Chad, I kept comparing everything to you. Even if I didn’t admit it out loud to myself, that’s one of the main things that it was. It was always you.”

“I-I don’t understand…” he said quietly, “you never...I called you and you never called me back. I thought...I thought...why?”

“I know,” you admitted, “I just...I couldn’t, Frankie. You left me and I hung around waiting for you all the time. My life revolved around waiting for to call, or email, any little hint from you. It wasn’t healthy - I was missing out on so much, because I was always waiting around for you. I couldn’t do that anymore, to wait to hear from you from an hour once every two months whenever you got the chance? It wasn’t fair to me or you. So I just...decided not to anymore.”

“But I-I came back,” he said meekly as you shrugged lightly.

“When? How many hours was your life devoted to the military? How many years were you gone for the majority of the year? It wouldn’t have been fair to me to have to wait for you, and it wouldn’t have been fair to you either, to only get to see me once in a while. Wasn't it easier to just not have to worry about it?” you tried to rationalize it to yourself and him at the same time. But as the words left your mouth you wondered if it had been easier that way. Maybe it would have been easier, maybe you would have been happier if you’d tried to make it work...but now you would never know. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed heavily as he leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his tired eyes, “I don’t know...but I do know it was hard for you.”

“You left me Frankie,” you said softly, trying not to cry again as you thought back to the day you had discovered that he was leaving for the military. It had been the worst day of your life back then. It still was to this day, “we made all these plans, our future, and you left me.”

“I did what I had to do back then,” he said softly, and while you never believed, even back then, you knew he had his reasons. You knew that the choices he made for all calculated and thought out - he was never one for rash decisions, “the choices I made helped become the man I am now. And look where you needed up - a therapist. A successful therapist. That counts for something, right?”

“I know....I know you did. I understand that now. A small part of me still thinks I would have rather have been with you, Frankie,” you said softly, turning to face him and resting your head on your knees, “even looking back on everything now. I wish you would have let me come with you -”

“So what?” he almost snapped and you jumped slightly at the sudden change in his voice, “you could have been some military wife that’s never happy?”

“I would have been happy with you!” you retorted with just as much edge as he had given you, “I would have been happy if I got to be anywhere with you. You were my everything, Frankie, and that never changed.”

“You would have been alone half the time,” he sighed heavily, “and I never...I never wanted you to have to worry if I was dead or alive or if I was coming back at all.”

You remained silent as you mused over his words. He had a point...if you had been with him, when he was overseas, you would have been wondering every minute of every hour if he was alright or not. That was a fate almost as cruel if not more so than what you were put through. 

“I wanted you to have a chance at happiness,” his tone softened as he looked at you with big brown eyes. They were full of emotion, holding so many things inside of them, “without me you had a shot.”

“I thought I did too,” you agreed, your lips trembling effort to keep from crying. Gods, you felt like you had been crying more recently than you had in many years, “turns out we were both wrong.”

“Yeah?”

“In some ways I wished I’d just gone with you anyway,” you shrugged and he made a small sound. You were both stubborn fools in your own ways, “in some other ways I wish I never met you.”

It felt like his whole world stood still as he cautiously met your eyes. Now those were words he never thought he’d hear you saying. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before stumbling over his words, “w-what? I thought…”

“If I had never met you, I never would have missed you,” you explained, “I never would have gone through the heartbreak of you leaving, of loving you and looking for you in everything and everyone else, never finding you. I would have been…”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“Yeah...but I’m not,” you concluded, “because if I had never met you, I would have never been loved by you, or gotten to love you. I never would have...discovered how to be myself. You showed me that it was okay to be different from my family, to be my own person. It worked...even if I got lost along the way and things changed. At the end of the day, it was you. And just when I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life, you came back. Out of all the times. That-that has to mean something right?”

Just like that every piece of his heart that had felt like it had hardened and decayed over the years seemed to come back to life. His heart started racing in his chest as he stared at you, long and hard, and you stared back with just as much ferocity and intensity. You were thinking the same thing he was - the timing, you both coming back together, it couldn’t be for naught. It just couldn’t. The universe was a strange and wondrous thing, but maybe...maybe this time it was getting it right…

“M..maybe…” Frankie stood up as you tried to collect your thoughts and slowly strode over to you. Extending his hand slowly, he held it out to you and you stared at it for just a moment, contemplating taking it. Taking his hand was a lot more than just the simple action of taking his hand, you were both well aware of that fact. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let him help you to your feet, and you stood directly in front of him, “Francisco.”

His large hands found your face, his touch gentle and saccharine as you relished in the feel of his soft, yet calloused skin on yours. Your lips parted slightly as he traced over the highs and lows of your features, making it a point to commit this version of you deep into his mind, just like he had twenty years ago when you were younger. His thumb swiped along your lower lip and your body was practicing screaming for him to touch you, to kiss you, anything.

“You are still as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you,” he whispered, inching incrementally closer and yet not close enough, “honey bee, I loved you then and I never stopped. I will never stop.”

“Francisco,” it was a soft plea as your hands found his wrists, gripping onto them tightly and vowing to never let go, “please.”

Please kiss me. Please don’t ever leave me again. Please just love me. 

It was so many things all in one simple word.

“May I kiss you?” he leaned in and his lips were practically ghosting over yours, his breath warm and sweet. You nodded quietly before closing the almost nonexistent gap between your bodies, weaving your arms around his neck as his hands found purchase on your hips.

It was slow, sweeter almost than honey as he kissed you, and you allowed yourself to get lost in him. If you thought kissing him back then had been amazing, this was that and then some. Every part of him melded perfectly against you, an ease to your movement like neither of you had to think or even try. It was like it had always been meant to be. In some ways, you supposed it was. It was always supposed to be you and your Frankie. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you murmured against his lips when you parted for a breath of air, “it was always you.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[mydogisveryadorbs]

stood up | jj maybank

summary: jj rescues you from being stood up

warnings: slight cursing, mentions of smut (if you squint), tiny bit of angst, tooth rotting fluff, rafe being a prick, jj being a soft angel

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

2.3k+ words

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It's gotten to the point where you are actually twiddling your thumbs to entertain yourself while you wait. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you glance at the analog clock on the diner wall. 

Your waitress, who you've learned over the last five times she's checked on you is named Cathy, walks toward your table again. “You sure I can't get you anything while you wait, sweetheart?” Cathy asks, holding her notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, ready to take any order you give her. She seems like a sweet older woman, maybe in her mid-60s, but you can't help but be annoyed at her for continuing to come to your table. You know it's her job, but doesn't she realize that you're probably not going to change your mind about ordering no matter how many times she comes back.

You feel your face warm as blush blooms across your cheeks and you shake your head. “He should be here any minute,” you tell her in an attempt to be convincing, however, the waiver in your voice giving away your true feelings.

You had been sitting in this booth for just under an hour and a half waiting for your date. To say you were shocked when Rafe Cameron had abruptly asked you on a date last week would be an understatement. The two of you had barely spoken to each other and before that, you didn't even know that he knew your name.

Pulling up the text conversation between the two of you, you check again to make sure that you got the time and date right, even though you've looked seven other times already. Much to your dismay, the text still hasn't changed.

Meet me at Joe’s Diner on 

Friday night at 7.

“I'll just grab you another Dr. Pepper,” Cathy says, giving you a look of pity as she takes away your empty glass.

You lick your lips. “Actually, I'll just take a water,” you tell her, knowing that the more sugary, caffeinated soda you drink the more anxious you will become.

Cathy nods. Walking off to another table.

Did he really stand you up?

Sure you were aware of the fact that Rafe Cameron had a reputation of sleeping with a lot of girls, but would he really stoop this low? It's true that you weren't very well known at the kook academy. You made pretty good grades and ran for the cross country team, but for the most part, you went unnoticed at school. Maybe you should have realized that a guy like Rafe Cameron would never actually want to go on a date with a girl like you.

Your stomach turned in your belly and you debated calling your older sister to come to pick you up. Looking around, you noticed most of the people in the diner were giving you sympathetic looks, obviously understanding that you had been stood up.

This might as well go down as the most embarrassing moment in your life.

Gulping, you shuffle your feet under the table preparing yourself to make a fast exit out of the diner. You are taking one last deep breath when someone plops down in the seat across from you.

You quickly look up and your eyes meet none other than JJ Maybank. The infamous pogue and weed supplier of almost every teen on the island.

“Hey,” the blonde boy says to you with a smile, picking up his menu. “Sorry, I'm late. The traffic is insane right now.” 

You continue to stare up at him in bewilderment, completely confused about what is going on.

He leans forward slightly and you do the same. “I'm JJ. Just go with it, yeah?” he says in a whisper. “Whoever didn't bother to show up is a dick,” JJ adds, sitting back in his seat as his eyes roam the small menu in his hands.

Your eyes widen in realization and you look around to see that no one is staring at your table anymore. You open your mouth to tell him he doesn't have to do this for you when Cathy returns, notepad open and pen at the ready.

“Finally,” she says under her breath, but still loud enough that both you and JJ are able to hear her. “What can I get for you two?” Cathy asks.

“We'll have two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries,” JJ says in a cheery tone. “Oh and two chocolate shakes,” he adds after a second, handing off both of our menus to Cathy.

You look at him again, mouth gaping open like a fish, but no words find their way out. JJ just smiles at you, softly patting your hand which is resting on the table in front of you.

Cathy finishes writing down your orders and looks up, eyes moving between the two of you in suspicion. “Will that be on one check or two,” she asks, her voice slightly monotone.

“One.” “Two.”

JJ and you speak at the same time. Your eyes move to his and you stare each other down.

“One check, please,” JJ says without looking away from you.

“That'll be right out,” Cathy says, quickly scurrying away from the two of you.

Unable to stand the continuous eye contact with the cerulean eyed boy, you glance down at the napkin in your lap. “You don't have to stay here, you know?” you say to him, not looking up. “I'm fine on my own.”

JJ shrugs. “As far as I'm concerned, I just scored myself a date with a really pretty girl,” he says as if it's no big deal that he just saved you from the embarrassment of the century. “Speaking of which, I didn't catch your name.”

You look back up at him and JJ offers you a small smile. A curl from his mess of blonde locks has fallen on to his forehead and you have an indescribable urge to reach across the table and move it to the side. You've heard a lot about JJ Maybank and his player ways over the years, but being this close to him for the first time you finally understand why all the kook girls are so obsessed with him. He's gorgeous; tall, tan, and toned. The three T’s.

But in the past few minutes, you've decided that there is an even more prominent quality that attracts guys and girls alike in figure eight. It's his pogueness. That's the best word you can come up with to describe the combination of his fashion sense, lifestyle, and aura. Everything about him is everything that kook teens are not. They do say that opposites attract.

“I'm (Y/N),” you say, reaching your hand out across the table for him to shake. It's the first time you've spoken directly to him and JJ is bewildered. Your voice is confident and yet it has a softness to it and JJ can tell from the small interaction that despite the fact that you conform to peer pressure, you have a strong will.

After a moment of silence, you speak up again. “Seriously,” you tell him, sincerely, “You don't have to stay here with me.”

“Seriously,” JJ says, slightly mocking you. “I want to,” his tone is so honest that it makes you really want to believe him. “In fact,” he adds, his eyes brightening with an idea, “Let's make it official.”

You give the blonde boy a confused expression so he continues. “(Y/N)- wait what is your last name,” he asks quickly and you tell him. He clears his throat, pulling one of your hands into his two big ones. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N), will you do me the honor of going on a date with me.”

For a moment you are distracted, looking at how he is holding your hand, but you snap out of it, looking up at him.

You just got stood up by the wealthiest and most attractive guy in figure eight, who by the way has nothing on the blonde boy in front of you. How are you supposed to believe that JJ actually wants to go on a date with you?

You think about the fact that he practically saved you and how he's been nothing but sweet since he got here. 

“Sure, JJ Maybank,” you say with a smile. 

JJ’s brows furrow and he smirks. “You know me,” he asks, but it's more of a statement. It is your turn to look at him in confusion so he explains. “I never told you my last name.”

You blush, hard, knowing that you were caught. Trying to play it off, you shrug. “Everyone on this island knows who JJ Maybank is.” The blonde boy’s smirk only grows at your statement.

“So I've got a reputation,” he asks cheekily.

You nod your head, playing along. “Oh, yeah. A big one,” you tell him, a big smile growing on your face.

“Hmm, let me guess,” JJ says, leaning forward in his seat. “You've heard all about how I'm a weed-smoking party boy who goes home with a different girl every night?” You nod, the smile never leaving your face. “Well, I guess I have some work to do to show you I'm actually a decent guy huh?” 

The boy almost pouts at his words and you can't help but let out a small giggle. JJ smiles wide, thinking that your laugh has to be the cutest thing he's ever heard.

You open your mouth to give him a snarky response, but before you can, Cathy walks to your table with your orders. Your jaw drops and your mouth waters at the sight of the large cheeseburger in front of you.

JJ laughs at your reaction. “I probably should have asked if you eat meat,” he says. “But judging by your reaction you do,” he adds with a laugh.

You blush at his comment as the two of you dive into your burgers and fries. As the night goes on you learn that you have more in common with the blonde boy than you ever thought possible. You share a very similar taste in music and you bond over your love of the ocean.

You are in the middle of ranting about your adoration of sea animals and how you would love to study them one day when you notice JJ staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

“What?” you ask, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Do you have food on your face or something?

JJ shakes his head with a smile, resting his chin on the palm of his head. “Nothing,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “You're just really beautiful.”

You know that your face is tomato red at his comment. Pulling your hands up, you cover your face with them in an attempt to hide your blush. JJ tugs at your arms, gently pulling them away from your face. “Hey, don't hide,” he says with a small giggle. “Your blush is adorable.”

A few minutes later when your embarrassment has simmered and your face is back to its normal color, you look up at JJ, copying his actions from earlier and resting your head on your palm.

“You're way different than I expected, JJ,” you tell him with a small sigh. 

JJ smiles. “Is that a good thing?” he asks, his smile not faltering.

“Good,” you say, simply.

“Good,” JJ says, smiling wide.

When the check comes you offer to pay half but the boy refuses. “At least let me pay the tip, JJ,” you plead, moving to pull some bills out of your wallet. 

JJ puts a hand on yours, stopping you. “Next time,” he says and you comply out of shock from his words. He wants a next time?

Cathy wishes the two of you a good night and you glance down at your phone noticing it was a little past 11 meaning that you and JJ had been together for almost two hours.

JJ walks you home like a true gentleman and the two of you stop in front of your door. He grabs both of your hands in his, looking down at your shoes and back up to your face.

“So, I know this was kind of unconventional,” he says, voice slightly waiving with nerves, “But maybe you'd want to go on a real first date with me sometime.”

He scratches the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes, and a big smile makes its way to your lips.

“I'd love to, JJ,” you say, tugging his hand so he looks back at you. JJ has a smile that matches yours and his eyes flicker down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes.

You bite your lip. “If you don't stop me right now, I'm gonna kiss you,” JJ says seriously.

You look down before looking up at him confidently. “What if I don't want to stop you,” you say, not breaking eye contact with his cerulean eyes.

JJ wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours. His hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the other gripping your waist as his lips work against yours. You let your arms snake around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Pulling away, the two of you breathe heavily. 

JJ touches his forehead to yours, pressing a small kiss to your nose.

“You gonna invite me in?” he asks, only half-joking.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Not a chance, Maybank,” you say and he pouts.

“One more kiss,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You laugh pressing a quick peck to his soft, pink lips before slipping out of JJ’s arms. He lets out a dramatic groan.

“Pick me up tomorrow at 6,” you tell him confidently before you open your door. Looking back you see him nodding profusely so you walk inside, shutting the door softly behind you.

Leaning your back against the door, you can't help the grin that makes its way to your lips. 

Your sister spots you as she walks downstairs. “Hey, (Y/N/N),” she says with a smirk. “You're home late. I take it the date went well.”

“Yeah, really well.”

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masterlist

[yaku-soba]

i’ve seen this film before (this is an old story)

༶•┈┈ oikawa tooru x gn!reader | angst

༶•┈┈ general m.list

tags/warnings: angst (with an okay ending), swear words, oikawa doesn’t become a pro, kinda college au, author was listening to the folklore album and also mother mother while writing this, i think that’s warning enough

word count: 1.48k

a/n: this was originally supposed to be some sort of prose poetry for my poetry sideblog but it didn’t work out so </3 also, trying out a somewhat new writing style hehe :3

“someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.”

― richard siken, war of the foxes

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

it goes like this: you fight over something small (it's never just something small), and after a while with whom the fault lies doesn't matter anymore (a double-edged sword: the fighting and the screaming and the shouting and the mocking).

it goes like this: radio silence, no missed calls, no unopened texts. oikawa, a character study: lover becomes roommate becomes a shadow you see slipping out the door if you wake up early enough. take-out ordered for one, a bed too large and cold. blankets that swamp you. 

it ends like this: you cave first (you always cave first). oikawa is too proud to apologize and you are too tired and it is easier to brush all the broken pieces of each other under the rug (it's old, you don't remember where it came from, only that it's the colour of mold and smells like mothballs, despite your best efforts) and pretend the we are fucked up, we are fucking this up away. you hate the way this story ends, there is no other ending to this story.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

"tooru," you say, and the click of the door as he shuts it behind him rings like a gunshot. "do you know what day it is?"

oikawa is breathtaking, as always. "no," he says, casting his eyes to the moldy rug at your feet and then away, off to the side, "what day is it?" oikawa is breathtaking, and as always, he's a bad liar.

you smile, make no effort to pull it to your eyes. "it's pasta day," you answer, and it's as hollow as the ring-pop he gave you as a promise when you were younger (when you had thought you were in love; when you were in love).

he nods. "thanks for cooking dinner." he chucks off his shoes and socks in an act of practiced nonchalance.

there is no pasta day.

"welcome home," you tell him belatedly. he hums, says nothing in return.

(stilted conversation: the second stage of a terminal relationship.)

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

once, you were young and in love.

it's been proven: youth and love makes one foolish.

the story, or the prologue - it goes like this: you meet oikawa at an impressionable age (the boy next door, the golden boy, the boy the coaches eye in a game, the boy all the girls talk about, the boy). he proceeds to make quite an impression on you (a burn from sparklers on a beach at a festival, a failed ollie that left a scar on your knee, bruised wrists from volleyball, the - invisible, but you know it’s there, just as oikawa knows - stitch over the exit wound in your chest). you grow up beside him and along the way, convince yourself that sticking with him is a natural progression (cherry blossoms bloom for only two weeks). 

you and oikawa, him and you. it has always been the two of you. this story is very old, this story always ends the same way.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

you’re fucked up. you and oikawa, him and you - somewhere, along the way, you’d gotten fucked up. you don’t know who fucked it up first, it doesn’t matter anymore. (nothing matters but the brush of oikawa’s lips on your lips and the delicate flutter of his lashes and the rent that you cannot afford without a roommate). 

oikawa is waiting on the couch when you come home (you came home later than usual - you’d seen him talking to a girl who had batted her lashes at him prettily the way he used to do to you). you shut the door behind you like a judge’s hammer, you slip out of your shoes and socks like water through earnest, cupped palms. 

“late night?” he asks (no welcome home). 

“yeah,” you reply (no i’m home). “i wanted to finish more of my project.” 

oikawa hums, looks at you from beneath those damned lashes. “that essay?” he shifts, lifts his feet from the moldy-looking rug to sit cross-legged. 

“yeah,” you say again. (you’d submitted the essay a month ago. you’re working on a presentation due in a week now).

“i ordered pizza,” oikawa says after a pause, “it should be arriving soon.”

you nod, step over the genkan and into the one-bedroom apartment. “thanks,” you tell him, “i’ll be right out.”

the bell rings while you’re changing into loungewear. you step out of the room just in time to see oikawa take the pizza out of the delivery girl’s hands - the same girl you’d seen touch his arm and smile (there is no home).

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

oikawa’s working part-time at a local diner that keeps long hours. you’re working on a degree. 

here’s the thing: he could probably afford a one-bedroom apartment of his own if he’s smart about his money. 

here’s the thing: you can’t. 

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

“someone has to leave first,” wakatoshi tells you over lunch, “richard siken said so.”

“who?” there’s a tear right down the middle of your carrot-heart. 

“someone who left first, or someone who was left. does it really matter?” 

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

here’s the point: oikawa with his long lashes and bedhead. oikawa’s sleepy smile in the mornings (you remember more than you know), the exact dip of his smile, the map you have of the lines of his palms. 

the point is: oikawa staying out and not coming home (you stopped counting after the first month, but your heart still knows), waking up to a cold bed because oikawa started leaving earlier (to go the gym, he says). hesitancy in hands where there once was security, the subtle fall of a satellite out of orbit, the gradual fall out of the childhood familiarity of being young and in love. the point is -

the point is always oikawa. 

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

oikawa gets a new, better, actual job. he’s a volleyball coach at a high school, now. 

you find out almost a month later, through takahiro and issei. 

“oikawa’s confident they’ll make it to nationals this year,” issei says conversationally, sawing into his steak, “says his kids are promising.” 

“what?” (you’ve seen this film before.)

“you know,” takahiro says, “the volleyball kids he’s coaching.” you did not know.

“ah,” you say anyway, fingers slipping around the fork in your hands and grasping onto the far edge of a cliff, “how could i forget.”

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

you finish your degree. you get a (relatively) stable job at a nearby design office.

here’s the thing: they pay you well for a fresh graduate. here’s the thing: you can probably afford a one-bedroom apartment of your own if you’re smart about your money.

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

“i’m moving out,” you say the moment oikawa opens the door, “thank you for everything.” (despite everything, you mean it. he’s taught you so many things.)

he smiles (it looks the same as what you imagine you’d smiled like the day of your first anniversary). “okay,” he says, and you think that that’s that.

“i’m sorry,” he says after a moment. 

“yeah,” you say, “i am too.” 

“thank you,” he continues, eyes almost the same shade as the day he’d brought you on a picnic, “i’ll always love you, you know that, right?”

you do (you feel the same, it is not the same love as when you had been fourteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen, but it is still love). 

“me too,” you say because there is nothing else to say, “you’re important to me. you’ll always be important to me.” it’s true: he was your first kiss and your first love and your first best friend and the first person you’re leaving first. 

oikawa smiles, and disappears into the bathroom. 

you stare at the ugly rug at your feet. 

“is this okay?” you ask the broken pieces of you and him (curled around the jagged edges of each other, thorn to petal, bruise to open wound), “this is an okay ending, right?”

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

here’s the point: oikawa as the boy you loved, oikawa as your youth, oikawa as a part of the past you will always hold close but not be held behind by. 

a study in relationships: someone will always leave first, it is a very old story. 

introspection and a universal truth: youth and love makes one foolish, being foolish is not always a bad thing. 

the point is: someone will always leave first, sometimes people fall out of love, sometimes familiarity is not enough to hold them together. 

an old story, another universal truth: someone will always leave first, it is not always a bad ending. 

»»————- ————- ————- ¤ ————- ————- ————-««

as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! :D do drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist :”)

p.s if you liked this, it would Be Cool if you leave me an ask / scream in the reblog tags because it would satisfy my need for validation 💔💔

[fandomfindings]

Doughnuts

Pairing: (Five Hargreeves x Reader)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warning(s): A few swears

Summary: A Five Hargreeves imagine where he sneaks you out of your house to spend the night with him and his siblings at a local doughnut shop. 

A/N: In this story I imagine Five to be a bit older. While I am aware he time jumps when he is 13 I can’t see him being interested in having a significant other at that age. Of course you can imagine him how you please, but I thought I should make my idea known as the author. Please enjoy the story.

----------

"Are you sure you can't come with us tonight? I think it'll be fun," Five said as he begrudgingly walked you out of his room so you could head home.  

"I think so too but you know how my folks are," You replied as you both descended the stairs. "They barely want me around you guys, let alone sneaking out at night to do so."

Five rolled his eyes, knowing the dislike your parents had for his family to be real. "It's just some harmless fun."

"I know, but they don't see it that way, Fivie," You tried to explain, turning to face him as you reached the entrance of the mansion.

"We can get Allison to rumor them," Five plotted.

"We are not getting Allison to rumor my parents! Are you crazy?"

"Yes," Five answered shortly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making you roll your eyes in response.

"I've got to go," You stated bummed, you, of course, wanted to go, but you knew your parents wouldn't have it. You were lucky to spend more than a few hours with the Hargreeves and be dating Five.

"Stay," Five said, moving you closer to him by pulling at your arms.

You smiled sadly at your boyfriend, "You know I can't."

"But- the fuck you looking at?" Five began in a soft tone but quickly shifted once he caught sight of his brother Klaus. Klaus was walking by when he caught a glance of you two, making kissy faces. Five didn't like that.

Klaus said nothing. He merely raised his hands in mock surrender, with a face to match. You did find it interesting that Five still didn't like showing some of his softer qualities to his siblings sometimes, but you knew that's just who he was as a person.

You chuckled at the interaction between the siblings, you then placed a quick peck to Five's lips before telling him goodbye.

----------

A few hours had passed since you left the Hargreeves residence. In that time, you made yourself do random tasks to keep your mind off the adventure you'd be missing. You even succumbed to doing your homework despite it being the weekend.

As you finished up the last of it, you heard a small thud coming from your window. You ignored it, not thinking much of the noise, but then you heard it again and again.

Deciding to check out the repeated sound, you went to your window only to see your boyfriend. A smile quickly appeared on your face. Five smiled as well as he tossed another pebble at your window.

"You're literally throwing rocks at my window," You said with humor once you finally opened the thing separating you and Five.

"Romantic aren't I," Five commented, dramatically outstretching his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure." You replied sarcastically, causing Five to smile even more. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm busting you out," Five explained spatial jumping into your room. It made you jump in surprise a bit, for Five was previously in front of you but now behind.

"What about my parents?"

"They've been asleep for a while now," Five reassured, shoving his hands in his pocket with a half-cocked smile.

"How long have you been out there?" You wondered out loud, not even realizing your parents had already called it a night.

"Long enough, now come on."

You hesitated, glancing between your bedroom door, Five, and the window. It didn't take you long to make up your mind. "Fine," You said, quickly slipping on a pair of shoes.

You looked to Five ready to try and sneak your way past your hopefully sleeping parents and out of the house. However, Five had other ideas. He outstretched his arm to you, even though you were confused at first you took it.

"Hold on," Your boyfriend instructed, lapping his hand over the one you had placed on his bicep.

Before you knew it, you had gone from your bedroom to your front yard in seemingly no time. Your stomach instantly churned, your body obviously not use to the sensation.

"I think I'm going to be sick," You said dramatically, reaching for your stomach, releasing the tight grip you had on your boyfriend.

"Save it for the doughnuts," Five quipped back, taking hold of your hand and whisking you away from your front yard.

You two hadn't gotten far, maybe to the end of the street when you realized something.

"Oh shit, I forgot to grab my wallet. Can you take me back?" You asked Five, stopping him from walking any further.

"Our dad's a billionaire I think money is the least of your problems," said a sudden voice as an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

You looked over and saw that the rest of the Hargreeves siblings stood there, waiting for you and Five. The arm that was now rested upon yours was Diego's. However, it was speedily removed thanks to Five moving you just out of Diego's reach, eyes squinted.

Ignoring your boyfriend's actions, you asked aloud, chuckling, "What's the most?"

"Deciding what donuts your gonna get," Ben said with a smile before walking in front of everyone else, signaling the start of the late-night journey.

----------

The trip to the doughnut shop was quick. It was called Griddy's Doughnuts. You remember Five and the others mentioning the place in passing, but this was the first time you would be joining them, and you were excited.

You all entered the shop, it appearing more like a diner. The joint was lively, but not too much for a Saturday night. Soft music played from a jukebox, and patrons chatted among themselves. You got lost in the atmosphere for a bit before felling a tug at your waist. Five was directing you in the direction his siblings had walked off to in your temporary absence.

It was a small spot by the windows. The siblings had already moved two tables together as if it was second nature to them. All eight of you sat down in no particular way. You ended up sitting between Five and Vanya and across from Allison.

Not long after you all sat down, a waitress came over; she seemed nice enough; you didn't catch her name though. You were already too engrossed in a conversation with Ben about a book you had recently finished.

You realized Luther had requested the waitress bring an array of doughnuts to the table, not really caring about the flavors. Despite the large number of doughnuts, Luther had ordered, the waitress was not surprised; she was used to the Hargreeves.

Conversations followed, along with doughnuts and laughter. You had never heard so much from the siblings despite knowing them for so long and dating Five for quite a while. You were having the time of your life. It was nice to spend time with your close friends and boyfriend, especially without them at each other's necks. Well mostly.

"So who's going to be the first to puke?" Diego questioned, slinging his arm across the back of Ben's chair.

"Vanya," almost everyone besides yourself said in unison.

"What? No. Don't act like you guys haven't before," Vanya objected, setting the doughnut she had in her hand down.

"Yeah, but Vanya, it's usually you," pointed out Luther.

"Maybe it'll be Five," said Vanya.

"Yeah, right, I've never -," Five began but was interrupted before he could finish his rebuttal.

"Yes, you did. Remember last year when you -," Ben started, but like Five was also interrupted.

"That was one time!" Five shouted, not letting Ben finish his story. You would be sure to ask one of them about it later.

"He's just trying to act cool because (Y/N)'s here," Diego remarked, smirking.

"Oh, I'm not acting asshole."

"Maybe it'll be (Y/N)," Allison interjected, trying to stop her two brothers from arguing any further.

"No way, my baby's tough," stated Five as he tightened the grip of the arm he had around your shoulders.

"Get a room, you two," Luther said, rolling his eyes jokingly.

"Oh, we will," Five challenged, squinting his eyes at his brother.

"I think it'll be Klaus. I mean, look how green he is," like Allison, you changed the target, blushing at Five's statement.

"I'm always this green," Klaus tried to deflect once he heard his name get thrown into the debate.

"Yeah, uh-huh." You said, clearly not believing your friend.

The discussion continued for a bit longer, everyone having their own opinions. You stuck with your guess of Klaus, Vanya agreeing with you. Allison and Diego voted for you since you were the newbie, and everyone else voted for Vanya. After a little more than an hour of banter, you all decided to leave.

Quicker than you all had thought, you got your answers to the puking debate. You and Vanya had won. Klaus rid his guts of the many doughnuts he had consumed in the past three or so hours, causing everyone to look away in disgust.

You said goodbye to all your friends as you and Five left for your home, you only gave Klaus an air hug for safe measures.

The walk at first was quiet; you both content with the silence as you walked hand in hand. A smile was placed upon your lips; it hadn't left since you entered the shop. Five noticed the whole time, and it made him happy.

"I'm guessing you had fun," said Five, interrupting the silence.

"You would be correct," You replied, the smile growing even wider if that was possible.

"I'm glad."

"Thank you for busting me out," You joked, referring back to the words he had used a few hours ago.

"It was my pleasure," Five responded, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it softly.

Unfortunately, you had reached your home too soon for your liking. You wanted to spend more time with your friends and Five. They brought much happiness to your life, especially today. You knew you would see them again, hopefully soon, but you knew today would hold a special place in your heart.

Five jumped you and him back up to your room, much like how the night began. Your stomach churned again, but you were a bit more prepared for it, so it wasn't as bad.

"How'd you do that?" You questioned Five realizing you hadn't earlier in the night. Tonight was the first time you had seen him teleport with someone else.

"A little trick I've been working on thought it'd come in handy," Five smirked.

"Handy as in sneaking me out of my house?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"Exactly."

"We'll have to use it more often then," You smiled, tugging at the tie he was wearing and bringing him in for a kiss.

----------

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this imagine as much as I enjoyed writing it. I finished watching season two about a week ago and I have been wanted to write a Five imagine, him being my favorite character. Who is your favorite Umbrella Academy Character? Anyway please let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

[poetrusicperry]

A Meddling Friend

charlie dalton one shot

word count: 2,380

warnings: none

notes: soooo i wrote a matchmaker!charlie one shot because i felt like it heh (also there is no way charlie isn’t the best matchmaker around tbh)... here it is (: 

A Meddling Friend

When Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton set out to do something, hardly anything could stand in his way. A meddler by plain terms, Charlie butted his way into any situation, whether he saw a benefit in it for himself or for others. Oftentimes, Charlie’s triumphs would stem from wanting to succeed. In what? The possibilities were endless. He had once convinced his entire chemistry class to fudge their hardest experiment of the year (“Look, the teacher can’t possibly fail all of us; a failure on all of us means gigantic failure on him,” he’d said pointedly), he’d tricked his younger sister into begging their parents for a dog, despite her allergies (when asked about why he didn’t just ask his parents for a dog, he claimed they were much more inclined to appease his sister), and he’d smooth-talked his way into a date to the Ridgeway Junior Prom at a diner in town on a dare (“Now I have a hot date and five bucks from all of you”). His successes were plentiful, and there was no end in sight.

So when Charlie had endured months of secret glances between his best friend, Neil, and Neil’s roommate, Todd (not to mention the awkward, weighted silences and painfully obvious unsaid words), Charlie decided to do what he did best: meddle.

The leaves were in their adolescence on the trees; varying shades of orange and red made campus seem ablaze. Charlie would find himself, on multiple occasions, staring out the window when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. Today was no different– the leaves were beckoning, and Charlie’s eyes sat fixed upon them until he heard his name being called from the front of the room,

“Mr. Dalton?” being at the back of the room, everyone turned in their desks to look at Charlie.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, unfazed. Dr. Hager had begun to go into detail about the question he had just asked Charlie, but Charlie’s gaze was, again, caught. This time, by Todd, who was the only person not looking at Charlie; Todd was looking at Neil. Charlie hadn’t heard a word his teacher had said, more focused on the fact that Todd was gawking at Neil and Neil didn’t even seem to notice. Rolling his eyes at Charlie, Richard Cameron (Charlie’s roommate), raised his hand to answer the question Dr. Hager asked.

“That’s a demerit, Mr. Dalton,” Dr. Hager deadpanned before calling on Cameron. After everyone had turned back around to face the front of the room, Charlie sat forward in his seat, watching Todd, who was still looking at Neil. Upon dropping his pencil, Neil bent to pick it up, locking eyes with Todd on his way back to sitting normally. A smirk played on Charlie’s face when Todd’s face flushed as he turned back toward the front. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Neil’s cheeks had also turned slightly cherry-colored as his eyes darted back to his notes. Charlie sat smugly back into his chair and began to hatch a scheme in his head. If he could just get them to admit their feelings for each other, the world would be a better place.

A few weeks prior to the day, Charlie had caught Neil drawing a heart around Todd’s name in the margins of a trig textbook. A few days before that, Todd had read an original poem out loud in their English class that was so clearly about Neil it was painful (“Richest coffee eyes / That paint the stage wonderful”).

Charlie didn’t dare bring up the subject with any of his other friends, but once alone with Neil after Chemistry, he began to work his magic.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked Neil, nudging him slightly as they walked down the hallway.

“What?” Neil returned, confused.

“You dropped your pencil during chem. I’ve never seen you do that. So that either means you were distracted by something, or you were falling asleep, which means you haven’t been sleeping well because you’re stressed out. Which is it?” Charlie prodded, looking at his friend as they continued down the hall, “Come onnnnn, Perry,” he goaded, elbowing Neil, who sighed in exasperation.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” Neil groaned, adjusting his books in his arms and casting a nervous look at Charlie.

“Lie to anyone else, Neil. Anyone else but me. It’s just embarrassing at this point,” Charlie smirked, “And offensive.”

“It’s just… the play. It’s hard to memorize without help,” Neil sighed before turning to Charlie, “You could help? Do you want to help me, Charlie?” Neil said excitedly. Bingo, Charlie thought.

“I’d really love to, Neil, but I’ve got some Latin stuff with Meeks for the next few days,” Neil sighed, “I do, however, know someone who can help you,” Charlie finished, pleased with himself.

“Who is it?” Neil cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if you know him, but I’ll just tell him to meet you somewhere tomorrow? What time?”

“How do I know this guy isn’t crazy?”

“Again, I’m hurt. You don’t trust me to put you into good hands?” Or Todd’s hands, Charlie thought, laughing to himself.

“Of course I trust you, Charlie, it’s just… I don’t know, I’m stressed out, and my father is all over me, I just need some help. If you know someone who can help, I’m more than willing to accept. I don’t mean anything bad by my reactions, I promise.”

“I know you, don’t, Neil,” Charlie clapped Neil on the back, “At the dock, tomorrow at 4. He’ll be there,” he looked at Neil, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Charlie smiled as they made their way onto the landing of the boys’ floor.

After parting ways with his friend, Charlie bursted the door to his own room open, startling Cameron, who was sitting at his desk studying.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared me half to death,” Cameron clutched his chest.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Charlie smirked, jumping into bed (with his shoes still on). He turned onto his back and put his hands behind his head, crossing his outstretched legs.

“Can you look at this trig, see if it makes sense?” Cameron asked, holding his textbook up to Charlie.

“At any other time, any other day, and in any other circumstance, I totally would, but I have some things to plan. Sorry, Cameron,” Charlie shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Come on, Charlie. I rarely ask you for help, and the one time I do, you won’t do it?” Cameron groaned. He opened one eye at the redhead across the room.

“Trust me when I tell you, the thing I’m planning is a lot more important than trig,” Charlie shot Cameron a knowing look, then closed his eye again, beginning to visualize and scheme as his roommate huffed a sigh and turned back around to his desk.

The following day brought giddiness for Charlie; he’d gotten Neil committed to going down to the docks, now he just needed to get Todd alone. The only thing Charlie was still figuring out was how. Todd was the biggest introvert Charlie knew.

Charlie’s proclivity for picking up on the ins and outs of his best friend had led to having more insight into Todd as well. Todd Anderson was new to Welton this past fall. And he was Neil’s roommate, so by association Todd had slowly, but surely (and slightly excruciatingly) joined Neil and Charlie’s friend group. He mostly listened and watched, but always sat near (although not too near) Neil when they were hanging out.

Since they were kids, Neil had always been personable; every new thing he learned about a person, would be spun in a positive way, even if the trait was inherently “bad.” He and Charlie would spend hours talking about people, but not in the “let’s gossip” kind of way– they both found a lot of intrigue in the general population. Even as children they were constantly surveying their peers in a way normal children wouldn’t. When Neil had met Todd, it was no different; he would go on about his sandy-haired roommate for ten minutes straight without taking a breath. Why Todd had transferred schools, where his family is from, what kinds of activities he liked. Charlie found the answers to these questions interesting, but perhaps nothing was more intriguing to him than the fact that Todd had willingly shared all this information with Neil. From what Charlie had experienced, Todd was not a talker, and would rather sit in a painful silence for hours on end than open up to the friend group or start a conversation… but he was doing so with Neil. Granted, Neil asked a lot of questions, but Todd seemed comfortable enough around him to share. That was the first thing Charlie noticed between the two of them, and the catalyst that had sparked Charlie’s master plan of getting them together.

After breakfast, which entailed a small conversation about Playboy models, gross scrambled eggs, and of course, a silent Todd, Charlie hung back to catch the boy before he slipped away to the dorms before class.

“Hey, Anderson!” Charlie called, jogging after him. Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“H-hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Um, s-sure?”

“I’m meant to help out one of my friends with his poem later, but I have Latin tutoring with Meeks, and I figured since you’re so good at it, you could meet with my friend to help him out?”

“I… I don’t know, Charlie,” Todd knitted his eyebrows at the idea of meeting and talking to who he thought was a perfect stranger.

“It’d really mean a lot, Todd,” Charlie pulled his most innocent face and looked at the boy in front of him. Todd was quiet still, “Listen, if you really don’t want to, it’s no sweat. I just figured I’d ask you since you’re so good at writing,” Charlie smiled small, not wanting to push Todd that far.

“I… um, no I-I”ll do it. Where?”

“Ah, Todd you’re a lifesaver! It’s 4p.m. at the dock. You’re sure you want to?”

“Yeah, just… tell your friend I’ll be there,”

“I will, thank you!” Charlie called, backing away from Todd and turning away to head to class. I won’t be telling anyone a thing, Charlie grinned to himself, feeling pleased.

When the clock read 3:56, Neil began to get nervous. No one had shown up. Was Charlie pulling his leg? I’ll give them five more minutes, Neil thought, sitting criss cross on the dock and twiddling his shoelace between his fingers. His “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” script sat on his lap, frayed edges and all.

4:04, Neil sighed, looking at his watch. Just as he was calling it curtains for Charlie’s friend, Todd, flush-faced and sweaty, was making his way over to him. He was looking down at his shoes, careful not to stumble,

“H-hi, sorry I’m late, I got stuck in the dining hall behind–” he looked up to see a confused Neil. Neil’s disorientation spread to Todd’s features, “Neil?” he whipped his head around both ways to make sure someone else wasn’t coming.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Neil stood up from the dock, dusting off his pants and clutching his script apprehensively.

“I… um, I’m supposed to meet… Charlie’s friend… he needs help with–” Todd trailed off, looking at Neil quizzically– “Wait, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m… supposed to meet Charlie’s friend… he’s supposed to help me rehearse lines…?” Neil’s voice upticked at the end of the sentence, confusion prevalent between the two of them.

“Wait, you’re supposed to meet Charlie’s friend, a-and I’m supposed to m-meet Charlie’s friend, too?” Todd shook his head, unbelieving. Neil’s face changed on a dime, a green light going off over his head.

He smiled slightly and huffed a laugh, “I think we’ve been made, Todd,”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I think we’re meeting… exactly who we’re supposed to be meeting,” Neil blushed, looking at Todd, whose cheeks were rosy from rushing over to the dock (and probably at the situation, too).

“We’re… you’re the friend that needs help with poetry?”

“Todd, I think Charlie meant to get us here alone…” Neil looked to Todd, fidgeting even more with his script.

“W-well why would h-he do that…?” Todd chewed his bottom lip. Neil shut his eyes, almost as if the next thing out of his mouth would cause endless pain. He breathed an unsure sigh,

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Todd, “Charlie knows I have the biggest crush on you, and this was his way of making me make a move,” Neil’s cheeks were a deep crimson.

“You have a-a crush o-on me?” Todd gestured to himself, bewildered. Neil grimaced and nodded, squeezing the script tighter than before, averting his eyes, “Oh…” Todd’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around them once again, “I… are you sure?” Neil sighed again and sat back down on the dock.

“Yep,” he looked at his hands, the script clutched tightly between them, “I’m sure,” he sounded tired all of sudden. Todd stayed frozen for a few seconds before he trudged over to Neil’s slumped body and sat down carefully beside him.

“I guess Charlie’s g-good at this thing, then,” he laughed incredibly lightly.

“What do you mean, why?” Neil cast a glance up at Todd before looking away again.

“I don’t know… b-because I like you, too,” Todd mumbled.

“What?” Neil looked at him again, not daring to turn away this time.

“I like you… t-too,” Todd’s volume stayed the same. Neil raised his eyebrows, his eyes searching Todd’s.

“Really? This isn’t some prank that Charlie is pulling? You’re being serious?” Neil interrogated, his hands still wrapped around his script. Todd just nodded, earning a huge grin from Neil. Silence fell over the pair and their newly learned information, but when Todd spoke, his conviction surprised even himself.

“So can I help you read lines?” Neil’s smile was vibrant.

“I think I’d love nothing more.”

Charlie watched from his dorm window, smiling as the two boys sat down to read lines. He climbed down off of the windowsill and dusted his hands off, another victory in the books.

[elizabeethan]

Never Nothing- 3/4

After being set up to take the fall for her boyfriend’s crime, Emma Swan is sentenced to community service, where she meets a handsome Brit who changes everything.

Season 1 AU

A/N: I’m committing to 4 parts, plus the possibility of a little epilogue. But the story will be done next week! Thoughts???

Thank you again and again and again and again to @the-darkdragonfly​ for being my beta and my best best friend.

Rated T

Read on Ao3

Read Part 1, Part 2

Read my Other Stuff

Tagging: @courtorderedcake​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​ @laschatzi​ @emelizabeth88​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kday426​​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​​ @captain-emmajones​​ @gingerpolyglot​​ @ebcaver​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @teamhook​​ @superchocovian​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @gingerchangeling​​ @jrob64​​ @onceratheart18​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @winterbaby89​​ @swampmedusa​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @dancingnancyy​​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​​  @shireness-says​​ @snowbellewells​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @ouatpost​​ @daxx04​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​ @donteattheappleshook​​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​ @xsajx​​

~~~~

Deft fingers gently tickling her skin wake her in the morning, later than she’s used to since they don’t have to travel or work. She giggles softly as she starts to wake, his fingers traveling slowly along the bare expanse of her belly before his palm settles just below her belly button where her baby lives. “Morning,” he whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin softly and making her shiver. 

 “That tickles,” she remarks groggily. “Woke me up.” 

 “I was getting bored waiting for you.”

 “You could’ve gotten up and grabbed me a coffee, then,” she chastises playfully, closing her eyes again and settling happily into the warmth of his arms. 

 “No caffeine.” 

 With a groan, Emma rolls her eyes. “You’re no fun. Haven’t you heard to decaf?”

 He squeezes her and chuckles. “How’s the babe?”

 She sighs at the question. It isn’t like she can ask, although nothing feels amiss after her fall. “Fine, I guess,” she shrugs. 

 Through a hum, he asks, “and how’s the mum?” 

 She scoffs. “I’m not a mom.” 

 “I think you’ve proved enough by now that you are. You were so brave last week,” he praises, and her heart clenches at his undying faith in her. 

 “I wasn’t brave,” she argues, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t stop crying once.” 

 “Emma,” he breathes out, squeezing her close to him and bracing himself against her until the anxious weight leaves her chest. “You’re the bravest person I know. You handled a terrifying situation beautifully. You put the safety of your child above the pain of fracturing your wrist in two places. How is that not brave?” 

She lets a tear fall now, sniffling and relieved that he can’t see her face. “I was so scared, Killian. I’m still scared. I thought I was gonna…” she can’t finish her thought. She can’t put to words how close she thought she was to losing her baby. 

 “I know,” he whispers into her ear. His palm lands on her belly again and she feels a soft fluttering tickle that makes her furrow her brows. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

 “I know it was hard for you, too,” she reflects, thinking back on his tearful eyes and the relief with which he sunk his fingers into his hair when they found out the baby was okay. 

 “Aye, it was,” he admits shyly. The mood becomes heavy and she jokes with him to bring levity to the conversation. 

 “It’s okay. Even people in freakishly realistic looking storybook illustrations get scared sometimes.” He laughs as she brings up their first morning here. 

 When he stands from bed, grabbing his clothes and heading towards the bathroom to change, she stops him. “What’s that?” she asks, gaze trained on the dresser drawer that was pulled slightly open. “Did you put stuff in there?” 

 He looks where her eyes were trained and shakes his head. “No,” he answers, stepping towards the dresser and pulling the ajar drawer open all the way. “What…?” 

 “What is it?” 

 Placing his clothes on the ground before his feet, he bends down as she struggles out of bed and he reaches into the drawer. “It’s… it’s a book,” he says, an oddly thoughtful look on his face. “Good find, love.” 

 He’s opening the book before she’s even next to him and staring at the pages intently. They’re littered with stories and drawings that depict tales of another life. Tales of kings and queens and curses and evil witches. Tales of heroes and magicians and… The Savior. A product of True Love. How charming. “They're fairytales,” she says by way of explanation, either to herself or to him. “Weird that it’s in the dresser…” 

 “They seem so familiar. Look at this.” He points to an image of the princess Snow White and says, “it looks like the nurse. And here,” he turns the page and points to Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother, “Ruby and Granny.”

 “Killian,” she laughs, but he interrupts as he turns the page once more. 

 “A curse,” he says as if he’s read this story before. “There was a curse…” 

 Placing her hand on his forearm to stop him from turning the page again, she says, “they’re fairytales. There's always a curse.” 

 “And someone to break it,” he nods with certainty. 

 The fluttering continues and she takes her plaster-covered arm, although she’s unable to bend it at the elbow, and presses it against the back of his hand. “Did you feel that?” she asks urgently. 

 “What?”

 “I thought I felt…” It stops, then starts up again, and she lets out a soft sob. “I think he’s moving around in there.” 

 He presses his hand a bit more firmly, although she’s pretty sure he won’t be able to feel anything from the outside. “I can’t… he’s too small.” 

 “I know,” she grins, turning to face him and laying uncomfortably on her firm, scratchy cast. She lifts her free hand to place it gently on his cheek. “Soon you will, though. He’s never done that before; I think he likes you.”

 He grins too, and presses their foreheads together. “He bloody well better. He knows I’m the only one making sure you eat your folic acid.” 

 She snorts and tries to snuggle in closer to him, although it’s difficult with the ugly hunk of white plaster between them. “You’re ridiculous. And when did we decide it’s a boy?” 

 “I think you decided. I’ve just been going along with it to appease you.” 

 “Shut up,” she scoffs. “He’s hungry. I think it’s time for you to get us breakfast.” 

 “As you wish, milady.”

 ~~~~

 The diner is bustling, a far cry from how it was the night they’d arrived. The snow has been plowed and the sidewalks sanded, luckily, and Granny’s seems to have reached it’s capacity.

“Who knew there were this many people living in this town,” Emma jokes once they finally find two seats next to each other at the counter. 

 “Aye,” he laughs. “Quite a bit busier than we’ve ever seen it.” 

 Emma isn’t sure if she’s paranoid or if everyone in the diner truly is staring at her, but she’s sure she feels many eyes on her as she orders her breakfast (pancakes, although Killian insists she get blueberries on the side). It feels strange sitting at the counter when they usually take a booth, but it’s the only spot available. When her plate is placed before her by a hesitant looking Ruby, she hears the sound of a throat clearing behind her. 

 “It’s 8:15,” she hears. “You're in my seat.” 

 Killian wipes his face with his napkin, stepping in for Emma who is too surprised to respond, and is met with the wide-eyed woman looking taken aback at the sight of him. “Sorry, Miss…”

 “Mills. Mayor Mills,” she nods in his direction, then turns to Emma and says, “I always sit in that seat.” 

 Emma looks around herself and notes the stillness of the diner as the patrons silently watch the exchange take place. “I’m already sitting here…” she observes. 

 Killian pushes his tongue into the inside of his cheek and laughs silently, nodding his head and turning back to his food. Emma smirks slightly at him and does the same. 

 Mayor Mills sits beside her, glaring in a way that makes her blood want to run cold. “Who are you?” she asks Emma suspiciously. 

 She clears her throat. “I’m Emma. This is Killian. We’re staying here at Granny’s for a bit.” 

 The mayor looks like she wants to respond, pinching her brows together and opening her mouth, but she’s interrupted by an older gentleman behind them. “Emma,” he says, making her turn around in her seat. “What a lovely name.” 

 She swallows her bite anxiously and feels Killian tense beside her. “Thanks.” she can sense Mayor Mills glaring at the man threateningly. 

 “Don’t you have a shop to run?” she asks him rudely. 

 “Ah, of course you’re right, Regina.” he turns back to Emma and Killian and says, “enjoy your breakfast… Emma,” with a smirk before heading out the door. 

 The mayor sighs and purses her lips, calling Granny over and requesting a coffee and an order of her usual, apple pancakes. Once she’s ordered, she turns towards Emma again and asks, “why are you here?” 

 “You're not a very welcoming mayor,” Killian points out in accusation. “In fact, this isn’t a very welcoming town, with the exception of some of your citizens. We almost didn't find it.” 

 “And how did you?” she asks, more offended that he succeeded than at the prospect of her town being impossible to find.

 Killian smirks, leaning over Emma to make eye contact with the mayor. “I’m quite clever.” She pinches her brows together again and accepts her plate of pancakes with a snarl. “By the way, you're lucky we don’t press charges. Emma slipped on some ice due to the sidewalk being untreated last week. Broke her arm, and could've put her child at risk.” 

She clears her throat and takes a sip of coffee. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” she asks, ignoring Killian's accusation of her negligence.

 Emma steps in and says, “I’m looking for my family.” 

 The Mayor, Regina, stills, choking on her coffee before gently placing the mug down. She clears her throat and says, “your family… I see.” 

 “I don’t know much about them, but you’re the mayor. Maybe you have some information on a baby who was found in the woods just outside of town here? 22 years ago? We checked with the local news, but they didn’t--”

 Regina’s head snaps to the left, glaring at Emma in a way that she thinks could be deadly if she really puts her mind to it. Without answering, or finishing her breakfast, or even paying, she stands from her seat stiffly and hurries out of the diner. 

 ~~~~

 “This place is bizarre,” Emma complains as Killian maneuvers the streets once again. They had planned on relaxing today, after a complete bust at the newspaper the day before, but when Granny suggested that they visit the sheriff’s station for information on a random, abandoned baby, Emma was too anxious not to jump at the opportunity. 

 “Aye, I agree. The mayor is quite hostile.” 

 “Quite,” she agrees with a nod. “How weird was that whole conversation? The old guy?” 

 “Very weird. She looked familiar though, don’t you think?”

 She purses her lips and shakes her head in denial. “I don't think so. Where do you think you’ve seen her?” 

 He shrugs. “She looks just exactly like the Queen in that book you found the other day. You don’t see it?” 

 With a groan and a roll to her eyes, Emma says, “not the book, Killian, they’re just stories. It’s a coincidence.” She can’t believe he’s actually starting to believe that the people in this town are the same as the characters in a storybook they found by chance. The town must be driving him mad.

 He sighs, nodding his head thoughtfully and not looking altogether convinced. “I know, you're right. Something just seems… off.” 

 “Yeah,” she agrees with a scoff. “Off is putting it lightly. Weird, creepy, slightly threatening...” 

 “Sorry, love,” he shakes his head in disappointment. 

 She shrugs. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

 “Well, if you're having feelings of discomfort while we’re here… I mean, I promised I would keep the two of you safe.” 

 “Killian,” she breathes out, placing her hand over his as it rests on the gear shifter, his prosthetic holding the wheel steady expertly. “You are keeping us safe. Last week wasn’t your fault, and you handled it perfectly.” 

 He turns to glance at her briefly, smiling before focusing back on the roads before them. “I’m just glad you're alright. Both of you.” 

 She can’t stop the grin growing on her face at his admission. She knows that he loves her, that they're best friends. But the more time that passes, the more obvious he makes it that he loves her child as well. She can’t get the look of relief out of her mind because it’s exactly how she felt. The way he loves this baby… it’s as if he considers it his own flesh and blood. Realizing that is overwhelming and exciting all at once. 

 He pulls up to the front of the sheriff’s station and stops at the door, engaging the emergency brake and turning towards her. “Why don’t you head inside and I'll park the car,” he suggests. 

 She steps outside, carefully waddling like a penguin to avoid another fall, and makes her way into the small brick building. The bell above the door rings, notifying any staff of her arrival, but she’s surprised to see only one man sitting peacefully at a desk, facing away from her and towards a block of cells. She clears her throat, and calls, “good morning.”

 He stiffens immediately, back going straight as he turns his head towards her and drops his jaw. After blinking several times, dumbfounded, he stands and spins around, showing off his badge and gun. “Morning, lass,” he starts, and she notices the accent immediately. “Graham Humbert. How can I be of service?” 

 Emma gives him a small, friendly smile and walks further into the room, tightening her coat around her to protect herself from the cold of the cinder-block and tile building. “I’m looking for some information. A baby was abandoned in the woods just outside of town many years ago, and I wanted to know if you had any reports on it.” 

 He hums thoughtfully, smirking and offering her his hand in an attempt to guide her towards his desk. She refuses, furrowing her brows, but walks towards the desk anyway and sits across from him as he sits and begins typing away. 

 “Do you know the year?” 

 “1983. October 23rd.” 

 He hums and nods. “Specific, I like it. Let’s see here…” he looks intently at the screen as the large monitor roars to life before he begins typing away. “October 23, 1983. Nothing for that date, but I have a report for the 24th. Yes, a baby was found in the woods by… by a child. A young boy.” 

 “A boy?” she asks, leaning in closer in interest. 

 He nods. “The boy was checked for head trauma after telling a wild story about himself and the baby coming here through a… a tree.” 

 “A tree?” she asks exasperatedly. 

 He nods again. “Both were sent into foster care, but that seems to be all we have. They must've moved into another state soon after.” 

 She groans, dropping her head into her hands and squeezing her eyes shut. It seems the trip as a whole was a complete waste. All she got was a broken arm and speculation that she was found by a boy with head trauma. It makes no sense-- how could they both get out there and he have no idea how?

 Maybe Killian’s curse hunch is true after all. The more she learns, the less far-fetched it seems because there is absolutely no logical explanation for her existence at this point.

 “Oh, one other thing, the items manifest. The boy was dressed like some sort of… I don't know, weird Oktoberfest costume, and the baby had a blanket with a name etched into it. Emma.” 

 She shoots her head up and stares at him, feeling her eyes beginning to water and her palms beginning to sweat. She knows that blanket; she has that blanket. 

 “Emma?” she hears Killian call from the entrance, and both she and the sheriff cock their heads to the side. “Are you in here-- Oh. There you are, Swan.” 

 “You're Emma?” the man asks. “This Emma?” 

 Killian’s by her side in an instant, resting his hand protectively on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” 

 The sheriff stiffens in his seat and looks up at Killian before standing and offering his hand. “Sheriff Graham Humbert, pleasure.”

 “Killian,” he says without taking the man’s hand. “What have you found?” 

 The sheriff sits back down and says, “not a ton, just that the baby left in the woods was found by a boy, who concocted a far-fetched tale of him and the baby coming here through a tree. And the baby was found with a blanket with a name on it… her name.” 

 Killian hums, looking down at her as she looks up at him and kissing her forehead before coming around the chair to look her in the eyes. “Darling, you knew already that you were the baby. What’s wrong?”

 She shrugs. “I don't know, I guess it just confirms that that was me. That my parents really did leave me there. I don't know anything new, really.” 

 “Can I make a suggestion?” Graham asks, awkwardly interrupting an intimate moment that she didn’t realize she and Killian were even having. “Go to the hospital; they might have birth records for that date.” 

 Killian escorts her outside, guiding her with his warm hand pressed protectively against the small of her back. He had already brought the car back around, and she could sense his hesitation to leave her alone in the station as she insisted he go. Normally she wouldn’t even think of making him bring the car to her, but after last week, she’s far too paranoid to walk over any expanse of ice ever again. 

 “I don’t like him,” Killian accuses as he pulls away. 

 “Killian,” she chastises, rolling her eyes. “He helped us.” 

 “He made you cry.” 

 “I’m almost 18 weeks pregnant with abandonment issues. Everything makes me cry.” 

 He scoffs and shakes his head. “You don’t have issues,” he nearly spits. “You were abandoned. That makes you upset. That doesn’t mean you have issues.” 

 She smiles sadly and looks out the windshield. She isn’t sure what to make of his claim. All her life, the only consistency has been that she has issues. Foster parents, other kids, Neal… everyone always maintained one truth. One constant. 

 And here he is, barreling his way into her life and making her rethink everything she thought she knew about herself. 

 “Anyway, you don’t think he looks familiar?”

 “Not this again,” she says, tossing her head back into the headrest. “If you say he’s a character in that damn book…” 

 He groans. “I know, I know. Sorry for bringing it up. I just… I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. Like that feeling that I’m forgetting something.” 

 She nods. “I know the feeling you're talking about, but it’s probably because we aren't at home. Once we get back to Phoenix, it’ll go away.” 

 He pinches his brows together at her words, as if the concept of returning home never occurred to him, and hums. “I don’t know…” 

 “Killian,” she demands, wanting to get his attention despite the fact that he’s busy driving. “This is crazy. The book means nothing; you’ve got to stop worrying about it.” 

 He nods, but she doesn’t believe for a second that he agrees with her. 

 ~~~~

 The hospital is abuzz when they arrive, much like Granny’s, and everyone looks so frazzled that Emma wonders if this is common for the small town or something new that the residents have never experienced. Based on the exhausted look on Mary Margaret’s face when they arrive at the nurse’s station, Emma guesses the latter. 

 “Hey, you two!” She calls when she sees them, then her face falls immediately, looking to Emma. “Something wrong?”

 “No, no,” Killian says, waving her off. “Just here looking for some information.” 

 “Oh,” she says happily, sitting up and fixing her pixie cut hair. “That I can help you with. What are you looking for?”

 Emma gives her a kind smile and says, “records on a baby that may have been born here years ago. She was abandoned.” It feels strange to describe the abandoned baby as if it were someone else. 

 Mary Margaret turns to her computer and begins clicking. “Records were computerized just a few years back, so hopefully we can find something. If not, we may have to head over to the old file room. Do you have any identifying information on the baby?”

 “A date of birth,” she nods. “October 23, 1983.” 

 Mary Margaret looks up at Emma in a snap, her eyes wide and curious. “That date… it sounds familiar.”

 Emma’s cheeks heat and she feels Killian’s hand on the small of her back. “It’s my birthday,” she admits softly. “You probably saw it on my chart.” 

 She shakes her head and furrows her brow. “No, that’s not it… Sorry. Uh, there aren’t any records for that date.”

 “What?” Killian asks, raising a brow. “You mean no births?”

 “No. No records. Strangely enough, all of the electronic files begin on October 24th.”

 Emma glances at Killian, who shrugs. He can’t make sense of it either, it seems. What are the odds that, the day after her birth and abandonment, the town suddenly came online? 

 “Can we look in the records room, then?” 

 Mary Margaret leads them down the hall and into an elevator, selecting the button for the basement. It’s finally quiet in the steel box, the closing doors shutting out the commotion of the hospital surrounding them. “What’s going on?” Emma asks, certain that the town can’t be this busy on a regular basis. 

 “Oh, with all the excitement? It’s the strangest thing. A coma patient escaped last night.” 

 They get off the elevator and she leads them into a dank, dimly lit basement, down the hall and to a locked door where she punches in a code. “Excuse me?” Emma asks, taken aback by her nonsensical explanation. “Escaped? Aren’t they, you know, in a coma?”

 She nods sadly. “He’s, well… security footage shows him waking up and removing his IV before just… walking out the door. The guard on watch was asleep.” 

 There’s something about Mary Margaret‘s tone, something sad and helpless and strangely emotional over a patient who Emma can only assume has been asleep for quite a while. So she says, “you’re worried about him. You care for him..” 

 Another nod as she leads them towards the back of the room, the stacks of files twice as tall as Killian and rather intimidating. “I know it seems silly. He’s been in a coma for as long as I can remember. But I started to visit him on my lunch breaks when I first started working here, and as time went on, I guess…” she shrugs. 

 Emma nods, unable to empathize with the position Mary Margaret finds herself in, but somehow understanding how easily she was able to fall into the flow of trusting and opening up to someone. When she looks at Killian, the person she trusts most completely, he’s smiling at her. “We should look for him,” she says aloud to Mary Margaret while looking at Killian. His face falls. 

 “Emma, no.” He shakes his head resolutely. 

 “Oh, no, the search party already told me to stay here. I’m not even technically on the clock, but they said I should stay to distract myself. I guess I got a little emotional when we found out he was missing,” she admits with a blush. 

 “So, we won’t be with any kind of search party. We can find him.” 

 “Swan, he’s in the woods! It’s dangerous.”

 “You’re good at finding stuff! You found Storybrooke on the map,” she tries, and is met with his shaking head. 

 “Finding a town on a map is a far cry from finding a comatose man in the woods in the middle of February.”

 “You found me,” she says, trying to appeal to his more emotional side. 

 “Aye, well, I’ll always find you, love.” 

 Mary Margaret drops the box she had just taken off the stack, staring directly at Killian with tears in her eyes. “What did you say?”

 Killian turns to face her at once, taken aback by her response and stepping forward to try and pick up the dropped box. “I just told Emma that I would always find her. Because I love her.” Her heart flutters and she feels another soft tickling in her belly as the tiny baby squirms around playfully. She knows what he means; that he loves her as a best friend does. But still, the words feel heavy between them. 

 “Charming,” she says suddenly. “That’s… that’s very charming.” Mary Margaret pinches her brows together and shakes her head. “I feel like I… like I know where to go. To find him.”

 Emma’s eyes widen in excitement and she looks at Killian again, although she’s met with his rolling eyes. “Swan,” he says hesitantly, knowing what she wants to do. 

 “Let’s just get the records we came for and then we can take her to where she thinks this guy is! It’ll be fun, come on.”

 “You shouldn’t be tromping through the woods after--” 

 “I have a broken arm. That doesn’t make me broken, right?” 

 He bows his head and shuts his eyes as Mary Margaret steps behind another stack, likely to give them a bit of space. “Aye, you’re right. I’m sorry.” 

 “It’s okay,” she says with a sly smile. “I know how you can make it up to me.” 

 “Swan…” 

 She says in a low voice: “you’re the nut job who keeps thinking everyone here is a fairytale character. Can’t you let me have this one? We each get one crazy hunch a day.”

 He rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smile he tries desperately to fight before taking the step to close the space between them and pulling her in for a quick hug. “Fine. But I'm only doing this because a perinatal nurse-queen is coming with us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes.

 “Yay!” they hear from behind the shelf before Mary Margaret steps out with a look of joy on her face. “Thank you both so much!” 

 They dig through box after box until they find the right year. When they reach the box that contains records from October, Emma's heart sinks. “I don’t know how that can be possible,” Mary Margaret remarks with her lips pursed thoughtfully. “How are there no records prior to that date?”

 There are records for December and November and part of October, but anything from before the 23rd is missing. There’s nothing for the entire remainder of the year, and no years prior. It’s as if nothing existed before the day Emma Swan was born and abandoned in the forest. 

 ~~~~

 She wants so badly to take his hand as he drives them through town towards the woods, but she knows how difficult that will make driving for him. He’s perfectly capable of driving with one real hand and one prosthetic, but she isn’t sure he could operate a manual with just his prosthetic. 

 But she’s hurting, and she wants him to comfort her like he always does. She wants to hold his hand to her chest and hug it close to her, if he isn’t able to hold her. She doesn't want to part from his side. She wants him to make her feel happy again. 

 Life didn’t exist before she was abandoned. It’s like this town was dropped here the day she was born and everyone living here had no idea. What does that mean for her parents? 

 It doesn't help that there are no records of her birth, either. She can’t prove that she was born in this town, only that she was found outside of it. In fact, the postcard that man gave her could be complete bullshit and mean nothing. 

 She wants a hug so badly. At least she can feel her baby dancing around and bringing her comfort. She wants to hold him. 

 Or her.

 “Right here,” Mary Margaret finally says while they're about to drive over a bridge. “Pull off here, I want to check this out.” 

 She’s still in her pink scrubs when she tries to open the door, and Killian stops her. “I have a coat on,” he reasons. “Wait here with Emma, I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

 They sit in silence, watching as he surveys the area, adorably checking under the bridge and behind trees as if a grown man might be hiding there. He sinks below their line of vision and Emma sits back, trying hard to relax. 

 “Thanks for doing this,” Mary Margaret says. “Are you feeling any better?”

 Emma sighs and says, “a little, but still pretty sore. The Tylenol has been helping though.” 

 “That’s good,” she nods. 

 After another moment of comfortable silence, Emma says, “I felt the baby move this morning,” with a soft smile. “He’s been dancing away ever since.”

 “Oh,” Mary Margaret coos. “What a beautiful feeling, congratulations! Your husband must’ve been excited, too.”

 Emma coughs and turns towards where Mary Margaret sits in the back seat. “We aren’t married,” she clarifies. “We aren’t… we’re not together.” 

 She furrows her brow. “You’re not a couple? I thought… well, I saw how you were with each other.”

 “We’re just really close friends. He isn’t the father.”

 “Oh, I see.” 

 Another chunk of silence passes between them, but Emma never feels the need to fill it due to discomfort. Finally, out of curiosity, she asks, “do you have any children?” 

 Mary Margaret is quiet, not answering Emma’s question and instead staring straight ahead with a thoughtful, confused look on her face. “I… I don’t.”

 “Oh, sorry if that was--”

 “No, no, don’t worry. It’s a valid question to ask of a perinatal nurse.”

 More silence. 

 “Is this your first? Child, I mean?”

 “Yeah.” 

 Another beat. 

 “I’m sorry we couldn’t find anything about your parents. I know that must be hard. My mother passed away when I was very young.”

 “I’m sorry,” Emma says. “And yeah… I just felt like… I don’t know, it feels like they’re right here, you know? Like all I have to do is open my eyes and they’ll be here but…” she trails off. Her eyes are open, and her parents still abandoned her. 

 “Somehow, I know just what you mean.”

 Emma sits back comfortably again, the car quiet. 

 “Killian seems very excited about your baby; more so than some fathers I've met. If you don’t mind me saying so, he’ll be a wonderful father figure.” 

 The only sound between them is the gurgling creek below. 

 “I know,” Emma says with a smile. 

 He’s hurrying up the hill after a few more moments of peaceful quiet, waving erratically as if to get their attention. Emma opens her door and Mary Margaret follows suit, both making their way towards him in haste. “I found him,” he says breathlessly. “He needs help.” 

 Mary Margaret seems to snap into nurse-mode instantly, grabbing her medical bag and rushing down the hill past Killian and Emma, turning back only to seek direction. Killian hurries to guide her, turning back frequently towards Emma to ensure that she’s faring safely through the snow and ice and rough terrain. 

 It appears as though Killian pulled the man from the half-frozen stream, his skin nearly blue and his clothes and hair soaking wet. Emma doesn't see his chest rise and fall. Mary Margaret is on her knees at his side in an instant, pressing two fingers to his neck and then commanding Killian to give up his coat to start to warm the man up. She begins chest compressions and breathing aid, desperately trying to wake the frozen man from near-death. “No, no, no, I found you!”

 Emma nearly chews a hole through her bottom lip as she watches her new friend try and save a man she doesn't know yet somehow cares deeply for. Killian hugs her close, which she suspects is both to comfort her and to keep himself warm. It feels like an age before the man sputters against a rescue breath, water escaping from his mouth and nose as color almost immediately begins to flood back into his pale face. 

 Mary Margaret cries out when he wakes, pulling him close to herself for a hug that Emma suspects she wasn’t expecting, and the man hugs her back with ferocity. “You found me,” he mumbles into her hair. 

 She pulls away from him and looks deeply into his eyes, as if she recognizes him, and opens her mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. 

 “Mate,” Killian says after a moment. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

 He passes out before he can answer. 

 ~~~~

 Graham Humbert interviews them the following day, suspicious about how the three of them could have found a random coma patient in such a random location in the woods. Emma has to admit, he doesn’t blame him; she’d be suspicious too. Following the interview, Emma, Killian, and Mary Margaret choose to go to Granny’s for some dinner. 

 “I really appreciate everything,” Mary Margaret says. “I know you came here for answers, and now you're being questioned by the police.” 

 Killian scoffs, waving her off. “Nonsense. He needed help. He’d be dead without you.” 

 “I’m just so worried about him,” she sighs. The man, identity still unknown, was brought back to the hospital, but has been out of his coma since last night and is making a miraculous recovery. Nonsensical, really. Magical. “I don’t even know why. I don't know him.” 

 “It’s certainly odd,” Killian agrees. 

 “I think it’s odd that he woke up all of a sudden and is completely fine,” Emma chimes in. “Shouldn’t his brain be mush after being asleep for that long?” 

 Mary Margaret shrugs and shakes her head, dumbfounded as well. “Every case is different. His is just… special, I guess.” 

 “Special is one word for it,” Emma mumbles. 

 “Very special indeed,” killian says to her softly. “He looks--”

 “If you say he looks familiar, so help me,” she threatens, loudly enough for Mary Margaret to hear. 

 “What’s that?” she laughs at their banter.

 “Killian just has some wild ideas about the townsfolk’s identities. We found a book the other day, and he somehow got it in his head that everyone here is a fairytale character.” 

 “Oh,” she says pleasantly, until her face drops and she looks Killian square in the eyes. “Fairytales?”

 He looks at her just as seriously, as if the world has stopped turning, and Emma wants to scream at the two of them for egging each other on. 

 “Your grilled cheese,” Granny interrupts, placing a full plate before Emma as she grins and rubs her hands together hungrily. “Careful, if I serve you any more carbs this week, this one might have me shot,” she says, nodding her head towards Killian and drawing a laugh from Emma. His face remains unchanged; confused and pensive. 

 “And two house salads,” she declares. She looks like she's about to say something else whitty, but the old man they saw the other day walks in and stares blankly at her, in a way that’s unnervingly threatening, causing her to stand straight and walk towards him. 

 “What is up with this place,” Emma remarks under her breath, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. She has to admit, it’s almost better than Killian’s. Almost. 

 “That’s Mr. Gold,” Mary Margaret tells her. “He owns this place.” 

 “The diner?”

 “The town.” 

 ~~~~

 “You need the rest of the day to relax,” he insists as they get back up to their room. “This week has been far too taxing.” 

 He’d just gotten through talking to Granny about extending their stay before lunch, and while she’s discouraged about not having any answers yet, she’s glad to have a semi-permanent place to stay. 

 “I know,” she agrees. “I just dont think I need a nap at,” she glances at her watch (one she purchased, thank you very much), “7:34 pm. I’m not a baby.” 

 He snorts, raising his brows wickedly. “I know for a fact that you're anything but a baby, love.” 

 She turns to face him, giving him an incredulous smile, then shaking her head. “You're a crazy person.” 

 “Scoundrel,” he corrects. “Now come, try to relax. Perhaps a nice bath?” 

 “Are you trying to tell me that I stink?” 

 With a laugh, he takes her hand and drags her closer to the edge of the mattress. “Never.”

 Before she knows what’s happening, she’s tripping over her own feet, her balance still a bit off from her growing belly, and she’s falling straight into his arms. He catches her so easily, it’s almost as if a magnet was pulling them together and fusing them to one another. Once she’s settled in his arms, his prosthetic is planted firmly on her lower back and his right hand brushes some hair away from her eyes. “Alright?” he asks softly, gently lacing his fingers into her hair unnecessarily this time, scratching along her scalp in a way that makes her eyes flutter. 

 “Yeah,” she answers. “You caught me.” 

 “I’ll always catch you,” he promises, his tone so tender and soothing that she feels her pulse relaxing and quickening all at once. The baby wiggles away in her belly as he does almost every time she’s near Killian. 

 “I know,” Emma confirms. “Because you… because you love me,” she breathes. It isn’t a question. It’s a factual statement that he confirms with a nod, even though he doesn’t need to. 

 “I do.” his voice is filled with such surety and vigor that she knows she’d be foolish to ever question him. 

 Being entangled in his arms makes her breathing quicken, coming out of her mouth in short puffs of air that make the fringe dance in and out of his eyes. “And... I love you too,” she whispers. 

 He’s in her space instantly, and this feels different. The last time they exchanged these words, it was clear to both of them that they were expressions of deep, unyielding friendship. Now, though, it feels like more. She isn't sure what it means this time, but she does know that friendship might not be enough for her anymore. 

 The problem is that no one has ever been for her what Killian Jones has. There hasn’t been a single moment in all of the time they’ve spent together where he hasn’t believed in her, hasn’t shown her what she’s worth, hasn’t loved her. 

 She’s falling for him. It’s been so easy that she’s hardly noticed, aside from a few passing thoughts about his irresistible physique and god-like facial structure. (And don't get her started on the stubble.) but the feelings… those have been quietly sneaking up on her since the moment they met. 

 She feels herself leaning closer to him, her breath quickening along with her heartbeat and the squirming baby within her. He leans in, too, and she’s certain that his soft, pink lips will touch her own at any moment so long as she makes the first move. She knows he’ll have her make the first move. 

 She’s about to do it, too, until there’s a timid knock at the door that makes them spring apart. 

 He sighs, groans, even, and moves her hair from her face once more before walking around her and towards the heavy door. “Granny,” he greets with a slight air of irritation in his voice. 

 “Evening,” she responds nervously, wringing her hands together. “I just came to tell you, well, I just spoke with Mr. Gold.”

 “Aye.” 

 “Well, you see, he owns the place. And he reminded me of a rule—” 

 “A rule?” he demands, and Emma���s brows furrow deeply. 

 She clears her throat. “Well, uh, there’s a rule that states I cannot allow guests to stay for longer than a week. Mr. Gold’s rule. ” 

 Killian scoffs and shakes his head, turning around towards Emma briefly, then back to Granny. “You’ve got to be kidding. You're kicking us out even though we want to try and give you more money?” 

 She shakes her head. “I’m real sorry about this. If it were up to me, you two could stay here as long as you like. I didn’t even realize it was a rule until he showed me the contract.” 

 With a heavy, heaving sigh, he shakes his head again angrily and says, “I know it’s not your fault, I’m sorry to get upset. I just hope Gold knows that he just put a pregnant woman on the streets. We’ll be out of your way after we pack.”

 ~~~~

 “What are we gonna do?” she asks as they settle back in the car. Emma's in the driver’s seat this time, as Killian has claimed to be too angry to drive.

 “I don't know, love, I’m sorry. We’ll figure something out, though.” 

 “That Mr. Gold is a monster,” she accuses. 

 “Aye, I know. Bloody snake.” 

 With a defeated sigh, she says, “we should just go home.” 

 He looks up at her, anger still ablaze in his eyes, and asks, “why would you want to do that?”

 Dropping her head to the steering wheel, Emma says, “we haven’t found anything, Killian. This town doesn't want us here. All I’ve gotten is false hope, a broken arm, and a sore ass. Now we have nowhere to stay, what’s the point?”  

 “The point?” he asks seriously, turning his body to face her and taking her hand, forcing her head off of the wheel. “The point is that we’re here, Emma. It seemed impossible, didn’t it? A town that doesn’t exist, yet here we are. It seemed impossible to get any information about yourself but we got some. We just have to keep digging.” 

 “Digging,” she scoffs. “I don't know how much more digging I can take. In a week, all I’ve learned is that my parents didn't even bother to have me at a hospital, and the only person who might know something is a psychotic little boy who thinks we traveled here through a tree! How are those answers?”

 “Emma--”

 “I just,” she says through unexpected tears. “I just want my parents. I keep thinking they're so close and they're not. They're never…” she breaks off her thought as a sob chokes her, dropping her head into her hand. 

 “Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, the anger evaporated from his voice. His fingers grab hers instantly, pulling her across the center console until they meet and he can wrap both arms around her. “Sh,” he comforts. “It’s alright, my love. You’re alright, I’m here.” 

 “You're always here,” she cries again. “You're the only one who’s ever--”

 “I know, love,” he whispers over another sob. “I know. You're alright.” 

 “You believe in me,” she says against the warm skin of his neck. 

 “I do,” he confirms. “I always have and I always will. I just wish for you to believe in yourself. For you to believe in everything that I know you’re capable of. There’s nothing you can’t accomplish, Emma, if you believe.”

 Moments pass, her tears feeling more and more ridiculous the more they fall as he speaks nonsense into her hair. She isn’t sure what he means, exactly, but with his words come more fluttering, and for reasons she can’t explain, she does believe. She believes in something, and she wonders if that’s enough. 

 A gentle knocking befalls the passenger’s side window suddenly. They break apart and Emma hides her face, wiping at the tears as Killian turns to face the offender. When he sees who it is, he cranks the window down. 

 “You two okay? It’s cold to be sitting in the car.” 

 “Fine, Mary Margaret. Just… trying to figure some things out.” 

 She hums and nods her head. “Well, if you want to figure it out someplace warm, I have a spare room. It isn’t much, but i’m sure it’s a bit better than the one Mr. Gold no doubt threw you out of.” 

 They both turn their heads rapidly towards their new friend in shock, and emma sniffles before saying, “really?” 

 “Of course. Come on, it’s just down the street.” 

 ~~~~

 “There we are, Swan,” he says when he places her bag down on the floor of the second story in Mary Margaret’s loft. “A nice warm bed for you to lay your head.” 

 “Thanks,” she mumbles as she sits down. “I’m sorry.” 

 He shakes his head and furrows his brow, sitting beside her and taking her good hand, running a soothing thumb over the healing scrapes on her palm. “Never apologize, love. None of this is your fault.” 

 “I should’ve trusted my gut and ignored that postcard. We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.” 

 “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than by your side, Emma. And I’m the one who pushed you to come. I should be apologizing to you.” 

 She shrugs. “I was ready for answers, though. I just didn’t expect to be this disappointed.” 

 “I know, I’m sorry.” 

 They sit in comfortable silence for a moment before she speaks.

 “You know what’s weird, though?” she asks softly, leaning her head down to rest it against his shoulder. 

 “What’s that?” 

 “As much as this place has sucked the life out of me, I kind of… I feel oddly comfortable right now. Mary Margaret has been a better friend than any I've ever had, aside from you.” 

 He hums and nods in agreement. “I know what you mean.” 

 She lets out a heaving sigh and throws herself back onto the bed, taking his hand and dragging him along with her until they're lying side by side and facing one another. “Maybe I’ll just give this place one more chance.” 

 “Aye?” 

 She nods. “I gave you a chance, and that’s worked out pretty well for me.” 

 With a grin and a soft chuckle, he says, “aye, for me as well.” 

 A softer sigh this time, the movement bringing them closer together to the point that their noses are nearly touching. “Maybe even the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she suggests timidly, but with a certain amount of certainty. 

 “Definitely.” 

 “Killian,” she breathes against his mouth. 

 “I love you,” he tells her with gentle resolution.

 She closes the miniscule space between them and finally, finally presses her lips to his in a kiss that she thinks might change everything. He’s snaking his tongue out along her bottom lip before he stills, gripping to her arm tighter and stiffening against her mouth. 

 “What’s--” she breathes, but she’s interrupted by the confusion in his face and voice. 

 He pulls away from her and stares deeply into her eyes, his own azure globes wide and astounded. “Swan?”

 ~~~~

 Several days ago...

 She storms into the shop, indifferent as to whether she smashes the glass as the door slams against the wall behind her. The click of her heels signal her arrival after the bell clangs above her head, and she’s at the till and pointing a judgmental finger in an instant. “Who is she,” she demands with force and anger that can be felt throughout the store. 

 “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Mayor,” the shop owner responds. “I know nothing more than you do.” 

 The mayor huffs with irritation and slams her hand against the surface before her. “I saw what happened at the diner; you know something!” she insists. 

 “What’s wrong,” the man taunts. “Is your little facade finally starting to crack?” 

 She grinds her teeth and tightens her jaw. “You're awake,” she accuses. 

 The man chuckles. “Of course I’m awake. I’m standing right here.” 

 “She woke you up.” 

 With a soft, slightly demeaning smile, he says, “I think you’ll find that you woke me up, by asking the lass her name in the first place.” 

 The woman aha’s triumphantly, pointing another finger at the shop owner and laughing maniacally. “So you admit it; you are awake!”

 The man chuckles and nods. “That's right, dearie.”

 “How did this happen?” 

 “Why, the laws of magic, of course. Every curse can be broken.” 

 “Not this one,” she argues firmly. 

 “I implore you to remember that True Love’s Kiss can break any curse.” 

 She laughs again, this time in disbelief. “And this random child from Phoenix is going to break the strongest of all curses?” 

 He tsks and says, “not just a random child from Phoenix.”

 The woman’s eyes narrow and she leans against the surface before her as threateningly as she can. “Who is she?” she asks again with venom in her voice.

 “I think she’s exactly who you think she is. Tell me, dearie, exactly where and when was this random child found all those years ago? Where was the product of True Love when your curse was struck?”

 “No,” she insists, shaking her head. “That’s not possible.” 

 “Oh, it is. The Savior is the only one who can break your Dark Curse.”

 The mayor begins to pace in her anger. “She needs to believe in magic in order to break the curse. She grew up here, in the Land Without Magic; she’ll never believe.” 

 “Ah,” he says, raising a hand with flourish, “but The Savior carries the Heart of the Truest Believer.”

 With a scoff, the mayor rolls her eyes. “What, someone can be the Product of True Love, the Savior, and have the Heart of the Truest Believer?” 

 “I didn’t say she has the heart, I said she carries it,” he chastises. Don't tell me you were too self absorbed to notice that the lass is with child.” 

 “A child,” she breathes in disbelief. “How can the child… unless both parents hail from a land of magic.”

 The man nods and says, “precisely.”

 “The pirate,” she realizes, shaking her head once more. “How did he get here? He wasn’t in the Enchanted Forest when the curse was cast.” 

 “Well, dearie, I can only assume that he was sent by someone who requires the Heart of the Truest Believer.” 

 The woman’s blood runs cold and a chill ripples down her spine. She can think of but one person who may require such a thing, and hopes beyond hope that she’s wrong. 

 “We have to get rid of them; they cannot break the curse.” 

 With a wiry, ominous smirk, the man responds, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

[fan-fantasies]

Partners? (Namjoon smut)

Pairing?: Namjoon x virgin!reader (college! au)

Warnings?: SMUT, fingering, oral, bit of a daddy kink, virgin reader, swearing (i think thats it?)

Word count?:a little over 8k

A/N: Hey guys! Its been a bit, kinda crazy that its now that i wanna write. So just a life update, i’m back at college, we are doing in person classes so I’m not sure how busy i’ll be. Though on a better note i’ve been writing a lot for some reason and am only now feeling inspired to do so. Anyways, someone needs to stop me from writing smut, I suck so bad at it but here I am continuing to write. Anyways, i hope you guys enjoy. Maybe i’ll post something else later in the week or by the weekend, who knows. Thanks for all the love and support you give me and Heather, we really appreciate it! <3 ~Breezy

In the three years, you had been at your university you had honestly believed that college dorm sex was the worst kind of sex to have. Not only did you have to be slightly quieter as to not allude the other students around you of what you were doing, but you had to make sure that you timed it just right so your roommate wouldn’t walk in on you. The number of times you had walked in on your roommate and her boyfriend finishing up was honestly insanely high. 

You and your roommate had been rooming together since your first year, you had moved into her room after your first roommate decided she wanted to party all the damn time. The two of you just seemed to click right away, you two had enough in common that you would stay up all night just chatting away. Usually talking about weird things and just end up going to bed without another word. 

Today was another day, your writing workshop had seemed to take its toll on you seeing as though you were dragging your feet on the pavement, how you hadn’t tripped yet was beyond your logic. You let out a rather loud yawn as you trudged towards your dorm building which seemed to be much farther away then you remember. 

“Hey!”A voice called from behind you, it took you a moment to realize that someone was talking to you. Stopping in your tracks, you turn and see a tall figure jogging towards you. You instantly recognize him by his blonde hair, he usually sits next to you in your workshop class. Namjoon was his name.

When he finally caught up to you, he stopped to catch his breath, “Damn, I’m out of shape,” he pants before standing back up fully. He was tall, practically towering over you. 

“Sorry to just run up to you,” he begins, “but I know we will be having a group project soon and I enjoy your writing so I was wondering if you would want to work with me?” He says looking at you, there was a small smile on his face. 

You had done proofreading on his work before, it was honestly amazing but you weren’t sure what he saw in your work. 

“Y-Yeah! Sure, I would like to work with you,” you smile, “I enjoy your work too!” You follow up as you watch his smile grow and small dimples appear. 

“Awesome!”He exclaims, “Can I have your number? So we can talk about times to meet up or maybe throw ideas at each other.”

You’re too mesmerized by his cute smile to say words, so you simply nod at his question. Both of you exchange numbers before you both go into different directions. 

You were lucky that Namjoon had stopped you to talk because if he hadn’t, you likely would have walked in on your roommate and her boyfriend having their sexy time. Unlocking the door, you enter, seeing the two of them in bed just kinda chatting but you knew they were likely naked under those blankets. You kept your eyes from looking in that direction as you walk towards your side of the room. 

Your roommate had greeted you, which you happily reply with a simple greeting. You knew the two of them would go back to chatting until they either fell asleep or he would get dressed and leave. You put your earbuds into your ears and began to read over the assignment that was given for another class and began to work on it. Engrossed in the music, your head thinking about nothing but the assignment until you felt someone tap your shoulder. 

“It’s time for dinner, wanna go to the cafe?” Your roommate asked, typically you both went together or ate in the room.

“Yeah just give me a second,” you answer as you get yourself to a good stopping point before grabbing all the things you needed for dinner. 

The walk with filled with chaotic chatter as usual, though she did apologize for you nearly walking in on them again. 

“Me and him just have awful timing,” she admits, “and we can’t do anything in his room cause his roommate is literally always around,” she explains with a shrug. 

You nod, “Yes well, please for the love of all things, just text me when you think you’re gonna start anything.” You plead, “Then at least I can wait an hour or something so I don’t have to see any more than I already do.” You both laughed for a few moments before entering the building that seemed rather quiet for the time of day. 

After grabbing your plate of food and finding an empty table you both sat together enjoying each other company more than the food. 

“Hey (y/n),”

You glance behind you, surprised to see Namjoon standing behind you. “Oh hey Namjoon,” he was smiling,

“Do you mind if I join you two? I wanted to run something by you for the project,” you glance over to your roommate who was clearing giving signs to let this poor man sit. 

“Sure take a seat,”you tell him, “Oh Namjoon, this is my roommate,” you introduce both of them. Your roommate seemed more interested in trying to leave you two alone to talk then actually making a friend. She stood up, grabbing all her things, before leaving she whispers in your ear,

“He’s cute! You better be getting some of that,” she giggles before walking off not giving you a chance to explain that it was nothing like that.

“Sorry about her, she can be a little weird,” you apologize to him, he only laughed a little before you both began talking about your project.

“I don’t know about you, but I find myself writing more romance style novels then I do anything,” he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You sat there thinking about it, “I’ve never really written a romance style thing before,” you trail, you were more into writing horror and fantasy then you were anything. 

“I enjoy horror and fantasy,” you explain looking down at your hands. You weren’t exactly expecting the reaction you had gotten.

“That's wonderful!,” He began to jot notes down in his book, “Why don’t we try to write the most obscure story? Some sort of romance horror story,”  he suggests. 

There were a few moments of silence while you thought it over, a horror romance novel? That seemed a bit out there but then again, your writing wasn’t too far off from being “out there”.

“That sounds kind of fun~,” you tell him. His beautiful bright smile appeared on his face causing a blush to appear on your cheeks. What a truly interesting project this would be.

You hadn’t even noticed that people were slowly leaving the dining room area, the both of you too engrossed on trying to come up with the perfect idea. It wasn’t until the staff came over and told you it was nearly closing time that you realized how long you had been sitting at the same table. In that period, you had brainstormed five potential ideas. Honestly, you didn’t believe that you could be so productive with anyone.

“Namjoon, your some sort of genius,” you say as the two of you walk back towards the dorm buildings,

He laughs and shakes his head, “Well I wouldn’t say I’m a genius,” he began, “We can work really well together which is just a good thing,” he tries to explain, you figured he didn’t know how to word his statement but you understood what he meant. It was a relief to think someone so great had wanted to be your partner, since you last partner did none of the work and royally screwed you over. 

“Do you want to meet up tomorrow?” He asks, “To brainstorm some more,” he quickly adds . You thought for a moment only to remember tomorrow was the worst day of the week. 

“I won’t be able to till pretty late. My last class gets out around seven,” you sigh glancing up at him,

He just gave you a nod, “Why don’t we meet up tomorrow after your class for a little bit? I don’t mind staying up a little later,” he suggests,

You weren’t sure if your body could carry you that long, “I don’t know Joon~,” you trail, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to function after such a long day,” you try to reason, 

It was clear he understood but he seemed a bit taken back, “Joon?” He questioned, your eyes went wide with shock, 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry… I tend to give people nicknames and I don’t ever ask if its okay,” you blurt out in hopes you didn’t actually offend him. 

He just laughed, “No it’s alright, I like that a lot,” he answer causing a huge weight to lift from your chest. 

“How about this? We meet up tomorrow, a friend of mine works at a small diner right down the street. He would give us a place in the back if we wanted to work and we can get something to eat,” he says, “if the time comes and your tired then we won’t go,” he concludes. You decided to just tell him yes, not like it was a hard choice. 

You both said your goodbyes before entering your building and heading towards your room. Your roommate was sitting on her bed, laptop on her lap as she scrolled through Facebook. Her face lit up when she saw you, 

“Spill it!” She squealed looking at you hoping for some juicy details of a ‘hook up’. 

You raised your eyebrow, “There is nothing to spill,” you tell her, “We sat and talked about our project,”

She groaned loudly, for some reason she was always trying to convince you to sleep with someone. “Come on girl!” She shrieks, “You need to get some of him!” She put her laptop onto her bed and turned to face you. “He’s super cute and I’m pretty sure he likes you,” 

You knew she was happy for you but she honestly tended to be a little over the top about it. 

“Just forget about it, he’s my project partner,” you didn’t say anything else, you got your bag ready for you long day of classes. 

You knew you were asleep, but this dream felt so real to you. The library was quiet, you really enjoyed studying on the second floor of the library cause no one typically ventured down this far. It almost felt like a secret spot to you. 

“You like this spot too?” A voice asked, you knew it was Namjoon, you didn’t even have to look up from your book. 

“Its quiet and no one can distract me,” you explain continuing to let your eyes scan the book in front of you. 

“Can I join you?” You gave him a nod before he pulled a chair up next to you. The both of you studying in silence for what seemed like forever, it was peaceful and calming. That was until you felt his large hand on your knee. 

You froze at the sudden contact, finally glancing up from your book only to see him reading his as if nothing was happening. 

“N-Namjoon?” You stammer trying to keep yourself calm and to not over think it. He glanced over from his book, only to send you a wink before going back to his reading. What in the world was happening? 

You went back to your reading only to feel his hand creep higher up your leg, now reaching your mid thigh. You felt you stomach twist, not in disgust but in excitement. You tried so desperately to focus on your reading. Though his hand just kept creeping higher until reaching the apex of your thigh. You bit your lip, gently squeezing your legs together. His hand squeezed your thigh, he clicked his tongue in displeasure. Using his strength he pried your legs apart, though you didn’t try to fight back, it was easy to say you weren’t apposed to this happening. 

Once again looking up from your book, you finally saw him looking at you. His eyes blown with lust, it took your breath away. 

“Joon?” You whisper softly as he sets his book down. 

He chuckles, “Keep reading babygirl, and remember keep quiet,” he mumbles, “this is a library,” 

You aren’t sure what his plan is until you feel his hand creep up and begin to unbutton you jeans. You cheeks begin to heat up but you don’t protest, it almost turned you on more. You continue to try to focus on your book as he shimmy you jeans down your legs. Eventually his hand found its way between your thighs, his long fingers gently rubbing over your clothed core. You held back a moan, you had never been touched like this by anyone. 

He felt you tense up and could clearly see the wet spot starting to appear on your underwear, 

“Someones excited,” he chuckles glancing up at you, “Have you thought about this, me touching you like this?” He whispers now expecting an answer, 

You nod your head, “Y-Yes,” you whimper out, you wanted more, you NEEDED more. 

“Now be a good girl and start reading to me, don’t miss a word or I’ll stop,” you couldn’t believe your ears, he wanted you to read? You felt him move your underwear aside, his fingers dipping down through your wet folds. You whimper softly, 

“You heard me baby, start reading,” he growls lowly causing a shiver to run down your spine. Slowly you begin to read where you left off, reading something about the Egyptian gods and how the society revolved around them. You had honestly stoped paying attention up until this point. 

As you continued to read, his fingers ran through your folds collecting you wetness before gently making circles on your clit. The low moan that left you lips was unintentional and not something you had hoped would come from you but you continued to read. 

“You’re so wet baby,” Namjoon mumbles as he kisses your inner thigh, his fingers now trailing towards your entrance before he slowly interested a finger into you. 

You couldn’t help but stop reading, you knew if you continued the moan that would have escaped your lips would have alerted the who library. Just like he said, he stoped when you didn’t continue reading.

“What did I tell you babygirl?” He huskily asks, you began to pant unsure if you can answer. 

“P-Please daddy,” you whine, “just give me a minute, i-i’ll keep reading~ I promise,” the fact that you had just uttered those words even surprised you seeing as though you didn’t think that was something you were that into. 

He gave you a curt nod, “You better beautiful, or I won’t move,” you tried desperately to catch your breath but it took a few moments until you found yourself reading again. Once you began to read, Namjoon slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you. It took every inch of you to not stop or to stumble on your words. 

It wasn’t until he added a second finger where things started to go down hill. You began to stutter, soft moans began to leave your lips.

“P-Please, can I stop reading?” You beg hoping to get an answer you liked. 

He just chuckled as he stopped his motion, “Why should I let you stop baby?” He teased looking up at you, you didn’t have an answer to his question. 

“You gotta study babygirl,” he teases as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. 

“P-Please daddy, I wanna watch you,” you whine causing him to stop, 

“You like this?” He begins to move his fingers faster, you put your book down. “If you aren’t gonna read you’re gonna look right at me,” he says looking you directly in the eyes. You gave him a nod locking eyes with him. While keeping eye contact, slowly he leans forward leaving a single kitten like on your clit, almost testing the waters. You bit your tongue to hold back the moan that would have escaped. 

Without warning he went straight in, sucking your clit between his lips.

“o-oh fuck,” you whimper as you try to keep eye contact with him, the feeling of his lips harshly sucking on you, while pumping his fingers into you. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. When he finally inserted a third finger, your head rolled back a moan finally leaving your lips. You felt him gently slap your thigh to gain your attention, 

“Eyes on me babygirl, I wanna see your beautiful face when you cum on my fingers,” you felt yourself get closer to your release, 

“Fuck, are you gonna cum babygirl? I feel you tightening around my fingers.” He groans, “You like doing this in public don’t you? You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you?” He taunts, you moan not able to form words, 

“Answer me,” he growls against your clit as he gently nibbles on it, 

“Yes daddy, I like it,” you whines out softly, he chuckled sending vibrations straight to your core. 

“I knew you did you slut,” his words only pushing you closer to the edge, 

“I’m so close,” you moan, “Please daddy, let me cum,” you beg, he groans at the sound of you begging. 

“Go on babygirl, cum for daddy,” he groaned out move his fingers faster. The look in his eyes was enough to throw you over the edge, your legs began to shake as you finally reached your climax. He helped you through your high, working his fingers slowly in and out of you until you finally came down. 

“What a good girl~”

Your eyes snapped open, you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, you hated wet dreams…. You grumbled to yourself as you looked at your phone and saw that it was seven o’clock, thirty minutes before your alarm as to go off. 

“God damn it,” you mumble under your breath as you get out of bed, deciding to take a shower to start the day and maybe you might be able to deal with the aching between your legs. 

Your day had honestly started off alright considering waking up earlier than intended.  Your first three classes went by rather well, though you had two more to go. Between walking from building to building you stopped into the cafeteria to grab a quick snack seeing as though you wouldn’t be eating until eight o’clock tonight when you met with Joon.

In your rush to get in and out quickly, you ran into something solid, 

“(Y/n)? You alight?” A concerned voice asked, you nodded before looking up, 

“Yeah, I’m alright Hobi,” you say, “I’m sorry for running into you, I’m in a bit of a rush,” you explain to him, he smiled his bright smile before speaking, 

“No harm done! I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at the club meeting!” He say as you rush off. Hobi was president of a dance club that you had been apart of since your freshmen year, but it wasn’t until Hobi came around that you guys ever did anything. You were finally doing shows and competitions, it was honestly the most amazing thing. The both of you bonded over a duet you did together that would be considered pretty risky for just friends to do. Ever since then you two were honestly the best of friends. 

Rushing towards your next class you munched on a piece of toast, you weren’t running late but if you walked slow enough you would be. You just kept telling yourself that you were almost done and soon you would be meeting with your cute new friend. 

Seven o’clock came around and you were trying your best to keep yourself awake, you last class had a quiz that you had completely forgot about and it honestly took everything out of you. 

“Hey (y/n),” Namjoon says as he meets you outside of the school building. 

You yawn and smile, “Hi Joon,” he frowns, he can clearly see that you were tired. 

“Let me take you to your room,” he says with his usual smile, you looked at him in confusion,

“N-No, Joon lets go do our project,” you yawn as you begin to walk, he stops you by gently grabbing your hand,

“Why don’t we go to your room, we can work there if you want,” he says, you nodded sleepily. You must have been that sleepy to invite the boy your roommate shipped you with back to your room. This was a disaster waiting to happen. 

Namjoon walked with you into your room, your roommate was no where in sight. Weird, she must have been at her boyfriends room…

“Make yourself at home,’ you yawn as you set you bag down by your desk and promptly take a seat on your bed. 

“Fuck~” Namjoon mutters as he checks his phone, 

“Whats wrong?” You ask sleepily, you kinda cuddling into your bed. 

“My roommates girlfriend is over, meaning I need to find a place to crash tonight,” he mumbles clearly not happy about the predicament. 

Without thinking you spoke up, “Stay here,” he seems to freeze in his place, “I don’t mind,” you yawn again now laying down in the bed. 

“A-Are you sure (y/n)? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he reasons with you. You pat the empty space next to you, honestly not caring what he did. 

He must have realized no work was getting done tonight, because the lights went out and you felt him lay behind you. You could tell he was trying to keep his distance like a gentleman but you weren’t a fan of personal space. 

A soft yawn escaped your lips  as you cuddled closer to his chest, you had always liked being warm when you slept and he was practically radiating heat. Namjoon tensed up behind you, unsure of what to do mainly because he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. Though he felt himself slowly drift to sleep, his arm gently draping over your waist gently. He could help but feel butterflies in his stomach, it was true he found you cute and that he may have gained a crush on you in the small amount of time you knew each other. Though he wasn’t going to complain about what was happening, no way in hell but he just hoped when you both woke up you things wouldn’t be too awkward. 

You heard the door slowly open, at what you assumed was, early that next morning. You didn’t pay much mind to it seeing as though you were so comfortable and warm in your bed. The soft giggles of your roommate were faint as you slowly began to wake up from your peaceful sleep. You had begun to realize that you pillow was a bit harder then usual…You eyes fluttered open only to find that your pillow was, in fact, the hard chest that belonged to none other then Namjoon. You knew nothing had happened last night, and that this was nothing more. 

“What time is it?” You groan quietly to your roommate, 

“A little after seven,” she says just as quietly, “I see you had a fun night,” she teased, 

You stuck your tongue out at her, “No, he came over to work on our project and I fell asleep, his roommate had his girlfriend over and needed a place to crash.” You tell her as quietly as you could without waking the gentle giant. Your roommate still giggled and went to her side of the room, you assumed to get ready for the class she had today. 

You took this moment to look up at Joons sleeping face, his hair was slightly disheveled and his lips slight agape. Every so often he would softly snore and shift a little. You honestly wished you could have this view all the time. You watched for as he slowly began to wake up, his eyes fluttered open. 

A small smile formed on his lips, “Morning,” he mumbled lowly in his deep morning voice. 

“Morning Joon,” you say just as softly as you slowly try to sit up, instead he slowly pulls you back, 

“Stay for a bit longer,” he groans as he seems to close his eyes again. You honestly didn’t fight him, though you knew your roommate wasn’t gonna let you live it down. It wasn’t much longer until your eyes fluttered shut again and you fell asleep. 

You woke up again, this time to a tickling feeling against your neck. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Namjoon’s breath against your neck. His face was buried into your neck, his lips ridiculously close to touching your skin. You tried so hard to control your breathing, to ignore the feeling of arousal starting to pool between your legs. Just the idea of his lips on your neck was enough to cause said aching between your legs. 

Namjoon groans in his sleep, shifting closer to you, his lips now brushing gently against the nape of your neck. You bit your lip in order to hold back the whimper that was rising from your throat. This man had no idea what he was doing to you. You continued to feel his lips lightly brush against your neck for a few moment, holding back was becoming incredibly hard. You wanted to move but his arm was securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him, maybe he was aware of what he did to you…

You tried to push that thought away from you there was no way he knew, well that’s what you thought. Not seconds later did his lips press against your neck, not roughly but just enough that a the whimper you had been holding back finally made an appearance. His lips didn’t move, it was clear that he was still asleep. 

“J-Joon,” you whisper out in hopes that maybe he would wake up, He just groaned in his sleep, his lips continuing to graze your neck. 

“Namjoon,” you breath out, trying to hide your embarrassment, you honestly couldn’t believe that something this simple was turning you on. Slowly he began to shift, his lips moving away from you now as his eyes opened. 

“(Y/N)?” He groans as he slowly wakes up, you sat there trying to catch your breath. You heart was still pounding in your chest, 

“Are you okay?” He asked, clear concern laced in his voice. 

You nod your head, “Y-Yeah, just woke up from a weird dream,” you stammer out trying to keep yourself calm. He sits up looking at you, he was worried about you clearly. 

“I’m alright, I promise,” you say, “do you have class today? We can do some of our project today.” You say trying to change the subject. He rubs his eyes, before shaking his head, 

“I have a club meeting tonight but that’s about it,” he replies, he keeps an arm wrapped around you as you chatted,

“You’re in a club?” You question, you assumed he was in some sort of ‘smart person’ club but you wouldn’t actually admit that out loud. 

“A childhood friend wanted me to join a club with him,” he says with a nod, 

“Who’s your friend? If you don’t mind me asking,” you ask honestly kinda curious to see if you know them.

“His names Hoseok,” he says with a shrug, 

You sat there shocked for a second, “Wait, Jung Hoseok?” You ask, when he nodded you nearly had a heart attack, “You’re joining the dance club?” You blurted, you really hoped he didn’t take offense to that. 

He laughed and nodded, “Yes, I know it’s a bit strange. He roped a bunch of our friends together to do some sort of dance together,” he laughed, “He even managed to ask our friend Seokjin and Yoongi to come back to join it,” He explained, now you were interested, 

“Wait, Min Yoongi?” You ask, “The music production major, who on the last day literally cussed out the professor?” You squack, causing the both of you to laugh. His laugh was honestly adorable to say the least. 

“Yes that Yoongi,” he confirmed, “We all became friends at a young age and we all just kinda stayed together I guess.” He chuckled, you smiled hearing that. You didn’t have many friends growing up, and the ones you did lost contact and you all just kinda faded away. Not like you really cared seeing as though you never really liked having friends anyways. 

“I didn’t realize he would be someone to be into dancing,” you mutter causing Namjoon to chuckle, there were no other words spoken for a few moments. 

Eventually, the both of you began to work on your project. You both of you throwing ideas back and forth of the strangest thing. 

“Hear me out,” you begin with a giggle, “What about these two friends live together, and one of them becomes possessed by a demon,” you explain, “the demon sees that the friend it’s possessing is madly in love with the other. So it spends all its time trying to get them together,” you conclude looking at his face for any sort of thought. 

A bright smile spread across his face, “Thats amazing! It’s perfect!” He says happily, jotting it all down in his notes. The both of you continued to work for most of the day, it seemed like both of your minds just joined together as one. 

Before you realized it, it was nearly time for you to head to club. 

He began to pack up his things, “So I’ll see you there?” He asked with a happy smile, you gave him a happy nod before saying goodbye. Once he left, you threw on your more dance worthy clothing before grabbing your water bottle and keys, before locking your door and leaving. 

You were one of the first to arrive after Hobi, he was quick to run to you and engulf you into the tightest hug imaginable. 

You were happy to give him an even bigger hug, “Hobi!” You squeal happily, his cute laugh filled the room as you both just stood embracing each other. Though it honestly hadn’t been that long since you had seen him, you both often greeted each other this way. 

It was honestly the one thing you looked forward to. If it weren’t for Hobi, you wouldn’t be the person you were today. As you waited for the rest of the club, the both of you stretched and spoke together about the things you had done over your summer or just random things that you both had been up to. 

Eventually a few stragglers came in before the large group of boys that you were kind of familiar with. The three you recognized was, of course, Namjoon who walked beside Yoongi. You had only seen him a few times, Yoongi was pretty quiet when he wasn’t with his friends. You had nearly worked a project with him, a singer was needed, you had auditioned but the day you were asked to go in they had turned everyone away. He had decided to do something different. 

The last person you recognized was Jimin, you had met him through the club. He was a true sweetheart and was honestly a dance god. You honestly envied his talent, he was an amazing dancer with so much passion. You had both danced together once, you had nearly won a competition his first time doing the club. 

Hoseok’s voice filled the room as he greeted his friends from where he was standing, you could tell he was extremely happy to see that they had actually decided to show up. He waved you over with a wide smile, you cautiously walk over not exactly sure how this would go over. 

“Guys! This is (Y/N), she’s another good friend of mine!” He introduces, you gave an awkward smile and wave as they all introduced themselves. Jimin greeted you with a sweet hug as the others just kinda waved. 

“I’m just so glad you guys are here!” He cheers with a giggle, each person broke into a pretty wide smile. This years club was going to be an interesting one, you could tell. 

A few months had gone by, Namjoon and yourself had gotten closer than ever. If you squinted you would honestly think you were an actual couple, well most people believed that you were anyways. You were always together, either working on your project or just hanging out together.  Hobi had noticed the two of you getting close, so he decided to make you dance partners. It was honestly the most amazing thing to happen, it only brought you two closer together. 

So close that your roommate just wouldn’t stop teasing you, asking when you were finally gonna take things to the next step. You obviously told her that you both weren’t in that kind of relationship, she would just roll her eyes and continue to tease you. 

Today was like any other day, except today you stayed in his room. The both of you sat in his bed watching a random movie that played on his computer. You two often did this on the weekends, it was a way for you to de-stress and just spend time away from everyone. 

Though something was different, Namjoon seemed nervous. He arm was slung over your shoulder, you wanted so desperately to cuddle into his side. 

Recently the stresses of college had really gotten to you, all the work and projects you had to get done where starting to take its tole. You hadn’t been sleeping well, you hadn’t been eating well and honestly you had gone a week or so without interacting with anyone, that included going to your favorite club. 

“Are you okay?” Joon questions snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t speak for a few seconds, the only sound to be heard was the sound of the tv. 

“I’m alright,” you finally answer, “I’m just glad to be finally having a break from everything.” You whisper softly, he gave a small nod before pulling you closer to his side. The faint smell of his cologne fulled your nose instantly calming you down. 

“Thanks Joonie,” you mumble snuggling into him more, if that’s even possible. You heard him chuckle a little. You glanced up to him, much to your surprise he was looking at you, his dimpled smile showing. You found yourself glancing down at his lips a few times, honestly wondering if they were a soft as they looked. He seemed to notice you gaze rather quickly, he was always a little slow when it came to the signs but he could see that this was something you might have wanted. He slowly leans towards you, his lips now extremely close to yours. 

“N-Namjoon,” you whisper, looking into his dark eyes. Concern filled them for a second, afraid he had done something wrong. “Kiss me, please,” you tell him, not wanting to wait another second. He seems frozen at your request, so you took the leap of faith. Gently you connected your lips together, it was clear that the both of you were nervous. 

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, before he pulled away slowly, you heart was beating out of your chest. Before you knew it, his hands gently grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap you legs straddling him. One of his hands sat gently on your side while the other caressed the back of your neck. He pulls you back in for another kiss, this one passionate and showed all the feelings he had. His hand held you close as his tongue gently snaked his way into your mouth. Was this was really happening?

You couldn’t help but involuntarily rolling your hips against his causing the both of you to moan into each others mouths. You finger tangled in his hair holding him as close as you could get him. Was this actually happening? You’d never done this with anyone before but you weren’t going to stop, this felt way too right. 

You pulled away from his lips, both of you trying to catch your breath. Cautiously his lips trailed down your neck, leaving feather light kisses everywhere that he could. You let out a soft sign, the feeling foreign but pleasant. As he became more confident in himself, his lips pressed harder onto your neck occasionally sucking and nipping at the skin cause soft moans to slip past you lips. His hands began to wander cautiously, giving you an opportunity to stop him at any time. You hadn’t planed to stop him, even after his hands began to wander under your shirt touching your bare waist. He pulled away from your neck, looking you in the eyes asking for permission. You simply nodded, you didn’t have to say words the both of you could practically feel each others energies. 

His lips connected to yours again, you grabbed the edge of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and off of you. The kiss continued for a few moments before he too shed his shirt. Your hands began to trail his toned stomach, he was so well built… 

A groan escaped his lips as a hands began to trail up towards your chest, his hands cupping your cloth covered breasts gently almost testing the waters. Once again his lips trailed down your neck heading towards your semi-exposed chest. Taking this chance, you reach behind to unclasp your bra letting it fall from your chest. He doesn’t hesitate to let his lips wander further down until his lips attached to one of your nipples. You couldn’t stop the moan that trembled from your lips causing him to glance up at you and pull away, 

“You gotta be quiet, we don’t need everyone hearing,” he chuckled with a small smirk causing wetness to pool between your legs. He left a few kitten likes against your nipple before seeing your reaction, “Unless you want everyone to know.” This caused another moan to surface giving him the answer he was looking for. He used his strength to lay you down on your back, him hovering above you. His lips continuing to assault your breasts, leaving small love bites and soft kisses as he worked his way down towards you stomach. 

“Joon, please,” you whine softly trying to keep your voice down. He left light kisses near your navel as he slowly began to pull down your sweatpants. Lifting your hips off the bed to help get your pants off. He wasted no time, leaving light kisses against you thighs leaving your body shaking with anticipation. He silently drank in your form before leaning down kissing near the waistband of your panties, he glances up at you almost silently asking for permission which you happily gave him. He pulled them down your legs carefully, you hear him audibly groan at the sight of you. 

“You’re so wet baby,” he groans as he begins to kiss your thighs again making his way higher and higher. He parts your legs, placing them on his shoulders as he dives in. His tongue automatically finding your clit, you bit your lip silencing the cry that the whole building would likely had heard. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding on for dear life, his mouth felt amazing. 

“H-Holy shit, that feels so good,” you moan softly, you felt him smile against you, occasionally groaning as he continued to eat you out. The closer you to to your high, which was a lot faster than you would hope, the harder it became to hold back your moans. 

“Joon, I’m so close, please,” you beg trying to keep your voice down as low as you could, your grip in his hair tightened causing him to groan. You hips bucked up against his face, trying to chase your orgasm. He flattens his hands against your stomach, pinning you down so you couldn’t move. This only brought you closer, after a few moments of chasing your much needed orgasm he growls against you, 

“Cum for me, baby,” That was all it took before you were thrown over the edge, the idea of him being able to bring you to an orgasm with just his tongue only seemed to intensify it. 

“Joon,” you whine as you came down from your high but his ministrations didn’t stop. You tried to push him away but he held you down. It was only a moment before he from between your legs, crawling up your body and kissing you lustfully. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as you fought for dominance. His fingers gently touched your sensitive clit causing you to gasp against his lips, he pulls away slightly,

“Relax baby,” he whispers, “I have to prep you for me,” he nips at your neck, as his fingers trail down towards your entrance you grab his hand. 

A faint blush crept on your cheeks, now feeling embarrassed, his eyes softened. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked genuinely concerned about this, you covered your face in embarrassment. 

“I-I’m a virgin,” you mumble, gently he moved your hands from your face. He looks directly into your eyes, you could only see love in his eyes. 

“It’s alright,” he kisses your cheek sweetly, “If you want to stop we can, I don’t wanna rush you,” he begins, “If not, I will be really gentle alright? I would never hurt you,” he whispers, you felt tears well up in your eyes. You couldn’t believe he actually cared that much for you…. 

“Please keep going,” you whisper, “I trust you,” you watch as his smile grew wider, the love in his eyes only grew brighter. 

“Then I will be really gentle, you just have to tell me if I’m hurting you,” he says; you give him a nod of understanding before he continued. His lips connected to yours once more in a quick kiss before he gently laid his forehead against yours, his finger circling your entrance. You gave him a small nod while looking into his eyes. He took the first step, slowly inserting a finger into you. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to start with, kinda uncomfortable but the longer you adjusted. You knew this was just the beginning though. 

Slowly he began to move his finger, testing the water to see how you were feeling, the moan that escaped your lips seemed to egg him on. His pace slowly quickened, before slowly entering a second finger into the mix. He halted his motions for a few moments, 

“You’re doing so well beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, along with a few other encouraging words that seemed to shoot a tingling sensation right down to your core.  

“M-Move, please,” you whine not wanting him to hold back any more. He took that as his cue, starting a slow almost teasing pace that drove you crazy. Though the slow pace didn’t exactly last too long, it began to pick up. His eyes never left yours, watching as your face would contort in please just by the flex of his fingers. 

“J-Joon,” you moan, “I want you,” he didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed himself off the bed, finding a condom not in his desk but his roommates. This made you giggle, 

“he won’t notice, the guy goes through them like candy,” he grumbles as he pulls down his sweatpants and boxers. His hard cock hits his stomach, the tip already leaking pre-cum as he put the condom on and hovered above you. 

“This will hurt a little, alright? But just for a minute,” he advices as he lined up with your entrance. Once he slowly began to sink into you, holding back tears you pulled him closer to you burying you face into the crook of his neck. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you laid together adjusting to his size, the pain slowly turned into a dull ache and eventually nearly nothing. 

“Y-You can move,” you tell him as he pecks your lips. Slowly he pulls himself out and back in, setting a slow pace just to start out. Soft moans continued to flow from your lips, trying so hard to keep quiet but it was proving a harder task than you thought. 

He kept the slow pace for a few minutes, the he began to speed up until he was nearly pounding into you. All you could do was moan his name as you were, once again, building up towards your orgasm. Namjoon left soft kisses against your neck, leaving love bites in his wake, 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He growls against your neck, 

You hold back the loud moan you were threatening to let out, “yes,” you moan, “Yes daddy,” you whimper, you felt his tense slightly at the name he was just called. A blush crept up your neck and to your cheeks, you honestly believed you had screwed up. 

“Call me that again,” he groans into your ear as he began to snap his hips forward thrusting deeper than before.

“Daddy,” you whine, “I’m so close please,” you sob trying to keep your cries to a dull roar but you were ultimately failing. He continues to thrust, now rougher than ever but you could tell that the name was really getting to him. You could feel the knot in your stomach endlessly tightening but it wasn’t enough, you needed something else. Almost as if he read your mind, his hand snuck down between your bodies, his finger tips drawing tight circles on your clit. 

“Come on baby,” he groans, “Cum for daddy,” he growls while making eye contact with you. You felt the knot snap, you pull Namjoon down into a suffocating kiss, muting the loud moan that escaped as you found your release. Namjoon followed behind, as he felt your walls tighten around him his thrust got sloppy, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Shit, fuck,” he groans into your neck as he released into the condom. His thrusts continued until he nearly collapsed on top of you. The both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. Before he got to comfy he tied the condom off and threw it in the trash. He pulled the blankets over the both of you, and pulled you towards his chest, his heart was still racing. 

“That was amazing,” you say softly, cuddling into his chest. He only nodded in agreement, taking a few minutes to figure out what he wanted to say. That was until the sound of his door unlocking brought you both out of your daze. 

You weren’t prepared for who walked in. 

“Woah, what the fuck…” a familiar voice said, the both of you glanced over only to see your roommate and her boyfriend walk in. 

“No fucking way!” Your roommate squeals in, honest to god, joy. You buried your face into Namjoon’s chest to hide the deep red blush that appeared. 

“Can you guys like, leave?” Namjoon asked, hoping that they wouldn’t over stay their welcome. The both of them laughed, his roommate grabbing a few things before heading back towards the door, 

“So this is what it feels like to be walked in on?” He mumbled causing you and Joon to laugh. When the two of them left, leaving you two alone did he finally speak. 

“I want to take you out,” he mumbles, “Please… I kind of did this in the wrong order,” he rubbed the back of his neck. You giggled at him, his nervousness was honestly the cutest thing. 

“I would love to go out Joonie,” you say kissing his cheek, “Now can we take a nap?” You ask with a giggle. He gave a wide smile before nodding. 

“Of course beautiful,” he whispers as the both of you lay down, he pulls you into his warm chest before the both of you fall asleep.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended - 2

As you can see - so I decided to pursue Blended. Originally, there was no serious plot to this, I swear. I was just winging it but before I knew it - I was exploring this interesting new AU that I’ve unearthed and I thought, eh why not? Now, I have quite a backstory for our main characters here. Which, unfortunately, will not yet be revealed below but just the same, hope you like this!

---

Title: Blended

Previous installment here.

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

Multi-part, WIP

—

Narook’s

Lin sucked in a deep breath. She released it slowly, counting up to five.

Her eyes blinked, wishing for all the strength in the universe not to forsake her.

She had taught her sons never to play the break-up one-up game but good Agni, she wanted to say that she is winning this particular break-up even a decade or so after.

Yes Lin, you can do this. You have won this break-up.

She tried to give herself an imaginary fist pump.

Yes, sure. Real mature of you.

Feeling that she had done enough pep talk, Lin plastered a smile on her face. She had gotten good at this in the past years after all.

Now or never. For Jinora.

She crossed the room quickly. “Hey kid, sorry I’m late.” Lin pressed a kiss on Jinora’s hair, not meeting the eyes of the other occupants of the booth. The young girl faced her to give a kiss and a hug in return. “Of all the days, I know.” Lin focused on tucking some stray hair strands behind Jinora’s ear. “I don’t even know why Mr Sato has an assistant if the man barely follows his own schedule.”

She finally took a seat and faced the now gaping man across her.

“Ah – this is my mom –,” Jinora started to introduce her at the same time that Lin extended her hand.

“I’m Lin, Jinora’s mom. Nice to meet you.”

The bald man automatically reached to grasp her hand to shake it He was a beat too slow to release her hand and Lin involuntarily frowned at that.

Ikki elbowed her father. “His name is Tenzin.” She added helpfully. “He’s my dad.”

No kidding.

She put up the menu as a shield between them to prolong the inevitable conversation; a ruse of reviewing the food and beverage lists even if the diner has yet to update it in the past five years.

Belatedly, all her uncharitable thoughts about the faceless man that was Ikki’s father came to the forefront of her mind.  

Figures he would be that stuffy businessman who did not have his kids play with the neighborhood kids.

Speaking of kids…

The two girls were sharing a plate of waffles beside them. The waffles were slathered with butter, whipped cream, maple syrup and sprinkled on with chopped peanut butter cups. She frowned and glared at the man across her from behind the menu. That was a sugar overload and sugar crash waiting to happen. And happen it will when the two girls would be in her care later today. He would not have to deal with that.

Tenzin only had a cup of coffee in front of him. She eyed the porcelain canisters at the side containing cream and sugar. The sugar bowl was only a third full and she would bet that it was full earlier before he had his hands on it.

She put down the menu and decided they have had enough time.

Lin waved a waiter over and requested for a tall glass of lemonade.

Tenzin was still looking at her apprehensively.

As he should.

If he thinks I will cash in on this 'renewed' connection, he is very much mistaken.

“So, I believe you have some concerns about Ikki staying over?” Lin was pleased to note that her voice did not even waver at any point.

She felt the curious eyes of the kids turn to them; their own conversation turning into whispers.

That seemed to snap Tenzin out of his thoughts.

“That is - that- no I don’t -.” He stammered unbecomingly.

Lin briefly wondered how this man managed to lead a conglomerate with this level of eloquence.

Ikki pounced on this. “Does it mean I can stay over at Jinora’s and Ms Lin’s? I promise I will behave, Daddy. And I swear we will produce the best project ever – with glitters, and sparkles and all the colors.” She beamed from the side, clutching at her father’s arm in excitement.

“It’s not our first sleepover at the house,” Lin interjected gently. “But I understand it’s Ikki’s first time to sleep over that is not with family. So you might have some questions for me – about the overnight stay.” She amended quickly, if the look in his eyes meant that he did have questions - just not related to the sleepover.

He motioned to speak but was interrupted by the serving placing a glass of lemonade between them.

“Well,” Lin calmly took a sip. “I could probably start with my questions and just chime in if there’s anything that comes to your mind.” She pulled out a pen and a small notepad from her bag. “Does she have allergic reactions to food -?”

“Shrimp and crab.” Tenzin responded in a subdued manner, absentmindedly stirring his coffee. A habit that Lin knew to indicate his nervousness.

“That won’t be a problem because,” Lin began but was interrupted by her daughter.

“Me too!” Jinora pointed to herself with a grin. “I’m allergic to crab and shrimp as well!”

There was a small shriek as the two girls began chattering about being besties and twinsies.

Tenzin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the display.

If that was how they would react over a common allergy (of all things that they could get from their father, it would be his ironic allergy to shellfish, which was to his mother’s consternation – but that’s a different story), wait until they realize they were sisters, Lin idly pondered.

She froze.

Sisters.

It did not dawn on her until then, put in simplistic terms, the two girls are related. She looked at them thoughtfully now, trying to see similarities in their features.

Half-sisters.

Lin corrected herself. Everyone knew how much she had clung to that particular distinction in her own family.

She clicked her pen and noted down in neat precise letters about Ikki’s allergy. “How about emergency numbers or any medicines that she needs to take regularly?”

Tenzin lifted Ikki’s bag, he showed her the bag tag which has all the emergency numbers. He also stated that there were no other allergies or any meds that the kid needs to take.

The pen continued to scratch on the pad.

Pen scratched on the pad.

“Bed time?”

“I'll leave it to your judgment to what's reasonable.” The fingers continued to hold the spoon that stirred the coffee. “They are bound to stay up later because of the project, I suppose.”

A back and forth of more questions and answers continued in the same vein.

When Lin (and Tenzin) was satisfied with the childcare information, flipped back the note pad and kept it and the pen back in her bag. “Alright then, are you really okay with Ikki staying over? If not,” She peered at him, gauging his reaction. “I can easily bring her back to your house later tonight.”

Tenzin shook his head with conviction. “No need, I mean, yes, it’s okay for her to spend time with you.” His face looked stricken at what he said. “No that’s not why I’m implying – I mean.”

Lin resisted rolling her eyes. “I get it.”

 ---

“I get it.”

Did she really, though?

Tenzin tilted his head down, stirring his coffee again, which has gone cold really. He did not dare ask for another refill as he had lost count of how many he had drank in his nervousness.

He inattentively watched the interaction of his daughter with Lin and her daughter.

Lin laughed at something Ikki was talking about.

If nothing else, Lin looked –

Happy.

Contented.

Tenzin was happy, truly, that his childhood friend (among other epithets he had for her, he thought heavily) is in a good place. He would be lying to claim that she did not cross his mind once in a while. He did wonder what had become of her. Their parting was not…ideal. And that was putting it very very lightly.

Now, here he was years later, sitting across her, having finished a conversation about their respective daughters. Lin was warm to Ikki, and he was thankful that she did not seem to bear a grudge against his daughter because of their past.

It was a surreal scenario, to say the least.

If Bumi had told him that was what he would be doing that Friday afternoon, he would have probably slapped his brother upside the head. Or checked his breath for the stench of alcohol.

This was not a normal Friday afternoon for him.

When Lin sat in their booth, he felt a chill run up his spine. The air left his lungs, as though someone had punched him suddenly.

No, it can’t be. Was his first thought.

And yet – he knew it was her.

He would recognize her anywhere. There was no mistaking the way she carried herself, the smirk, the flashing of her grey eyes – only a moment of emotion before it was hidden by the veneer of politeness.

It was cold but his palms turned sweaty. It was an odd feeling really, like a memory that was at the fringes of his mind suddenly before him. He did not know what to make of it.

As much as he was sure he has not forgotten her – when she started introducing herself, he wondered if the same can be said for the other way around.

He had moved far to start a new life with his children. Figures, that, with his luck, he lands at the very town that Lin lived at.

But if Lin wanted to keep it like they did not know each other, fine then. He could handle that. It would be simpler that way, he supposed, especially if Jinora and Ikki would remain friends (bffs, Ikki had said).

It was a cliché but he really did think the years were kind to Lin Beifong.

Is it still Beifong?

He surreptitiously peeked at her hands on the table. One of her fingers was sporting a ring.

So maybe not a Beifong…

He took a sip of his coffee and made a face, forgetting momentarily that it was little more than sludge.

 Before long, the bell at the diner’s door tinkled, announcing that more customers had entered.

Lin turned to face the door at the sound. Her face brightened up and Tenzin craned his neck to see who had arrived.

There was a young man with yellow-orange eyes, a messenger bag slung across his body. His eyes alighted at their corner booth and he smiled, more of lifting the corner of his mouth really than an actual smile.

Tenzin barely heard Lin excuse herself from the table; the two girls, still eating their pile of waffles and chatting about some singer or actor (he wasn’t exactly paying attention), took no notice of her.

Lin went to the newcomer, who raised his hand slightly as greeting.

He watched them with curious fascination – or horrible fascination, he wasn’t sure.

There was that odd tug at his stomach (that he would rather not explore, no, thank you) when the young man (boy, really now Lin? He grumbled internally, never mind his own ex-wife was years younger than him) moved to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek.

Yes, it was definitely not Tenzin’s usual Friday afternoon.

---

Note: I enjoyed writing this. Pretty cathartic - did you like reading it too? Let me know! 

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 9

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~27.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E TW: mentions of alcoholism

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon's outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

-

“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

------

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

------

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I'm going to help you find it,” she promised.

------

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

------

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

------

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

[thewatermelloncat]

Backstage (Rosénali CH 4)

CH1, CH2, CH3

Summary: Rosé’s day only gets worse and Denali makes sure to be there for her. And in her vulnerability Rosé admits more to Denali than she would to anyone else.

Boarding School AU

Kinda Pastel/Punk AU

Author’s Note: Be on the look out for links to extra stories within the chapters.

Warnings: Swearing

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Rosé had been distracted throughout their English class that day. Which was no different than any other time really, but Denali knew that this time there was a reason and that’s what bugged her. After they’d been released to get to their next class, she had tried to catch Rosé so she could check on her. But she’d gotten caught up in a sea of people and couldn’t make it to her by the time she left out the door.

She hadn’t seen her since then. Part of her had wanted to go looking for her at lunch but she’d reasoned against it. Not wanting to overstep her boundaries when Rosé was already having a rough day – they were still fundamentally strangers after all. Then again, were they, after Denali had comforted her while she cried that morning?

After classes were over Denali returned to her dorm, figuring that distracting herself with homework would be better than getting caught up in her thoughts over what she is to Rosé. It was going well and she’d finished a page and a half of science before frantic footsteps thunder down the hall.

Suddenly the door bursts open and Mik flies into the room. “Rosé got into another fight!”

“What! What happened?” Denali springs off her bed, homework falling to the floor.

“A group of girls were getting stuck into her about her parents again. Kind of the usual stuff really” Mik explains breathlessly. “Rosé obviously didn’t want to hear it so she started to walk away. Then someone called her a ‘fucking charity case’ and she turned around and pushed them against a locker – it was kinda hot.”

“Is she okay?” Denali asks.

“Physically or emotionally?” Mik asks back.

Denali lets out an unsettled breath, not able to pick an option. “Where is she?” she asks instead.

“They should have released her from the office by now” Mik says, flopping into a nearby chair. “So, she’ll probably be back in her room.”

“I’ll see you ‘round dinner” Denali says before immediately setting off out the door.

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

When Denali knocks on the door she doesn’t expect an answer but still she calls out, “Rosé, it’s me.”

In the second it takes for her hand to fall back to her side; she already gets a response.

“Door’s open.”

At the invitation Denali turns the handle and pushes through the door, finding Rosé standing at her desk. When the door shuts behind her Rosé turns around. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for Denali to make the next move. Not knowing how she’s going to react.

“Are you all right?” is not the first thing Rosé thought she’d hear from her.

“Yeah” Rosé answers quickly but she doesn’t know how much she means it.

“Because after the day you’ve had, I don’t think you should be” Denali continues as if Rosé hadn’t answered.

“I’ve had days that are worse” Rosé dismisses.

“Don’t deflect” Denali warns calmly. “Are you okay?”

Rosé shrugs, “yeah, fine.” Only choosing that answer because she tells herself that she has to be.

“So, you’re not hurt?” Denali checks. “Not even emotionally?”

“No” Rosé shakes her head before she fixes Denali with a questioning look, noticing the way she is staring at her. “Are you expecting me to have a blackeye or something?”

“Well, no… but yeah – I don’t know” Denali fumbles.

“Nothing, see” Rosé moves a hand in front of her face before placing it behind her to lean against the desk. Failing to supress a wince.

Denali freezes but says nothing. Figuring it’s better to assess the situation independently rather than allowing Rosé to get defensive. “Your hand” she points out seriously, noting the redness of the side of her palm.

“What about it?” Rosé says far too quickly for anything not to be suspicious.

“You said you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m not. It’s fine” Rosé averts her eyes, subconsciously moving the hand further behind her back out of Denali’s sight.

“I can see it swelling” Denali starts forward towards her, holding her hand out for it.

When Denali stops in front of her, Rosé rolls her eyes but reluctantly holds her hand out to her and she takes it gently.

“Why did you lie to me?” Denali asks as she studies over it.

“I didn’t. It’s not broken so it’s fine.”

Denali sighs deeply, knowing that she’s not going to get anywhere with Rosé on this. “Just at least let me wrap it for you.”

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

“Did you break their nose or something?” Denali doesn’t look up from tying off the bandage Rosé had lying around in a draw.

“What?” Rosé regains focus after zoning out.

“Did you break their nose?” Denali repeats. “Surely you would have had to hit something pretty hard to do this.”

“I didn’t hit them” Rosé tells her.

“Then…” Denali’s voice fades out as she thinks. “Did they hurt you?”

Rosé scoffs a laugh but thinks better of making a comment of liking to see them try. “Nah, they didn’t touch me.”

“I’m so confused” Denali shakes her head as she finishes off the knot and lowers Rosé’s hand.

Rosé smiles at her, partially amused by her confusion but mostly in thanks. “After I pinned them, I hit the locker.”

“You missed?”

“Purposefully” Rosé makes a point of explaining.

“So, you didn’t hurt them?”

“Probably winded her when I shoved her but that’s only momentary” Rosé considers. “I never want to hurt anyone, Denali.”

Denali smiles at her answer sadly before she asks, “what did you get for it?”

“Two detentions, a call home to my parents – which they probably won’t care about – and I had to say an apology that I only half meant” Rosé lists before adding to her last point. “Which works out fine because they had to give me an apology that I know they didn’t mean at all.”

“And what else did they get?” Denali asks.

“Nothing” Rosé says matter-of-factly.

“Nothing?” Denali repeats in disbelief.

Rosé shrugs not seeming surprised or bothered by it. “Remember what I said about elitists?”

Denali nods, thinking back to the previous day on the fire escape. “Well, if it makes any difference, I’m on your side” Denali tells her. “And Mik too.”

“I know she was” Rosé smiles widely, laughing slightly.

“What do you mean?” Denali asks, unsure of how she knows.

“Well, she was around so she got pulled into the office as witness” Rosé explains before she smirks. “Thought she was going to lose it at Ms Visage at one point. She’s pretty cool.”

(Short Story: I’ll Fight Your Corner)

“I pretty sure she’d die if she heard you say that” Denali smiles. “I think she idolises you.”

“I’m no one to idolise” Rosé’s smirk drops as she looks down at her bandaged hand.

“I don’t think she cares” Denali shrugs. “She just wants to know how you sneak out at night.”

“Trust me it’s not as fun as it seems” Rosé says sadly, not looking up.

“Why do you do it if it isn’t fun?”

“Because I have a job” Rosé seemed to hesitate before she said it. “Night shifts at a diner down the block – the one that your parents must have taken you to. Ms Visage was nice enough to set me up with it when we realised that I couldn’t afford stationery and stuff.”

Rosé pauses, giving Denali an opportunity to say something but she doesn’t take it. 

“It’s only parttime but it’s still enough to set me back on homework. I think all the teachers know but most of them don’t seem to care.”

“And no one else knows?”

“No one” Rosé emphasises before warning, “and I’m hoping you can keep a secret because I plan to keep it that way.”

“I won’t tell anyone” Denali promises. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Thought it might be nice to tell someone, you know?” Rosé leans her head back against the wall. “Have someone else know apart from myself.”

“And is it nice – to tell someone?”

Slowly Rosé starts to nod her head as she chews at her lip. “Yeah… it is.”

CH5

[teamhook]

The Perfect Man :: Birthday Fic

Hello all! This story was written for the lovely amazing @searchingwardrobes for her birthday.

Story beta-ed by @ultraluckycatnd

FFN

AO3

Killian finds his way back to Granny's. The encounter with the three men has left him even more curious about Emma. She must be a special lass to have the attention and affection of so many men. Either that, or she was a siren, or perhaps she has bewitched them.

Killian is a perceptive man and he has a feeling in his gut that something is off. He had considered asking the men about Emma, but they had their hands full with their own issues.

Emma and the girls had finished practicing at the Blanchards’. Mary Margaret had gotten a call from David and they were getting all lovey-dovey. Emma left so they could have privacy, because there were things she never wanted to know about her brother.

She sits down on an old swing just taking in the scenery. She is having so much fun being Leo. She feels free; she doesn't have to be herself. Sometimes, the pressure from her family gets to her. David is the golden son. He is perfect and once he marries MM, his approval rate will be even higher. David’s currently away completing his training to be a Deputy Sheriff. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to date Sheriff Humbert, but that had not worked out. She knows the good Sheriff still has hope that she will come to her senses and give him another chance, but that is very unlikely. She misses both of her brothers and she hates feeling jealous of her brother James. She is so much more like him than David. She hopes to someday flee the little town just as he had. Small town, big hell. Her brother had craved to go out and conquer the world, so he left them behind and occasionally checked in, mostly with David; it must be a twin thing.

Then her thoughts traveled to Jones. She still has no idea why she flaked the moment she met him and gave him a fake identity. Once she realized who he was and why he was in town, she should have come clean and confessed, but her embarrassment clouded her mind. That, and he has very pretty eyes and luscious lips. She had gotten distracted by his looks. She has met good-looking men before, but there is something different about him. Maybe it was the fact that he appears to be well-traveled and experienced. She looks down at her watch. Perhaps if she goes home and changes quickly, she can finally apologize to him for making him travel to Storybrooke because of her dumb luck.

Killian was about to get ready for bed. His time in Storybrooke was coming to an end soon. Part of him is saddened by the thought, and the other part is upset because it appears Emma Nolan will remain a mystery. That thought surprisingly makes his heart hurt. There’s a soft knock on his door, one he almost misses. He can't imagine who it could be. The only people that know of him in the small town are the Nolan siblings. He opens the door and the first thing he sees is the most vibrant green orbs he had ever laid his eyes on. Long blonde wavy hair, with a dimpled chin graced by a hesitant smile on red full lips. He has seen many beautiful women in his life, but this one renders him speechless.

"Hello, I'm Emma Nolan." She pauses for a second. "Leo, my brother, passed on your message. I'm sorry you had to travel so far because of my very idiotic lack of attention. I was supposed to send an invitation to your family, not to cause any trouble. I'm sorry about Miss Blue as well. She can be difficult, but she meant no harm."

Killian raises his hand to pause her ramblings. "Lass, I'm sure it was an accident. However, my brother lacks any sense of humor. He is very uptight and an overbearing arse. Would you like to come in?"

Emma looks behind him and blushes as she notices the bed is ready for him. "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to apologize in person. Leo said you were very nice, and I’ve been busy with school, and I wanted to come by earlier. I did, but I kept missing you."

"It's no problem. I'm sorry we had missed each other." He scratches behind his ear. "I stopped by your home earlier to chat with your brother, but I was told he wasn't home."

"Oh, yeah, did you want me to let him know?" Emma asks.

"Well, I would love to see him before I leave."

"Are you leaving so soon?"

He smiles. "I will be departing the enchanting town of Storybrooke in a couple of days. I just wanted to thank him for being so helpful."

She nods. "I will let him know." She winces. "I hate to ask, but would you please reconsider not withdrawing the support your family offers the school in donations because of my fault? That would help me avoid Miss Blue's bad side," she says as she works her bottom lip nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Emma, I didn't mean it. I was upset and my mum would roll in her grave. She loved the school and this town."

"Oh, thank you. I already get on Miss Blue's bad side enough. I didn't need another way for her to be on my case. Thanks again. I will let Leo know and I'll let you rest. Goodnight Mr. Jones," Emma says as she turns to leave.

"Love, you can call me Killian." His bright smile makes her heart flutter.

Killian's final days in the small town his mother had grown up and left behind are spent with Emma Nolan showing him around in her free time. He is mesmerized by the beautiful lass and her free spirit which reminds him of his long-lost mum.

The night before he is set to depart, they spend it talking in his room with some room service and a subtle wink from Ruby in Emma’s direction.

“May I ask you a question, lass?” Killian asks as he is taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich, one he got at her recommendation.

“Sure, and you can call me Emma. I mean, you had to travel so far because of my fault,” she answers with a smile as she takes a bite of her fish and chips.

“Why write the letter?” He looks at her with curiosity.

She sighs. “I was thinking of the ideal man for me and for a brief moment, I had found him, but he was away from me.” She looks at him and shrugs.

He scratches behind his ear. “You are a beautiful lass and are clearly not lacking suitors.”

Emma looked at him with a high brow and tilt of the head. “Suitors?”

“Oh yes, a few nights ago, I went to your home to find your brother but instead, met three men outside arguing over you.”

Emma blushes profusely. “Ohh! But to get back to your question, I have yet to find such a man. I want something that seems to be unrealistic. Look, I have a pretty good idea of who you met. Each of those men has a quality I want, but not one of them has them all.”

He nods. “Emma, what are you looking for?” he asks curiously.

“I want… a man that will put the extra effort for me; that he lets it show I’m worth fighting for. He will be my best friend. We would be kindred spirits, open books. He will be romantic and full of passion. He will be mature and knows what he wants, and he won’t play games. He will be an adventurer and fun.”

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he says.

“What about you?” She asks because she’s curious, and perhaps a part of her is hoping she has some of the qualities he is looking for.

He looks away from her for a second. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it in quite some time. In my younger days, I wanted a lot of the same qualities you do.” He cringes as he realizes that Milah is nothing like what he had pictured himself with in his youth.

Emma notices the change in him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized how much my fiance lacks those qualities. Don’t misunderstand me, she is not a completely horrid person, but she is not always the easiest person to deal with.”

Emma’s heart sinks at his mention of the fiance. “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t that bad if she managed to get you.”

“To be honest, we fell into the engagement because it seemed like the logical next step in our relationship.”

“But you must love her?” Emma asks.

Their food is long forgotten.

“I just figured that true love wasn’t in the cards for me but--” He pauses for a second. “Perhaps we should change the subject.” He can’t let his mind wander into that territory.

Emma agrees and their conversation returns to Killian hearing stories shared by Ruth about Alice. They laugh at their mothers’ antics. Soon the night comes and their time together ends as they part reluctantly, both upset at the fact that they will most likely never see each other again. As a last attempt to keep a connection with Killian, Emma reminds him that he and his brother are invited to the annual play production. He smiles and nods.

After leaving Killian’s door, Emma sits down at the diner. She asks Granny for a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon; she needs the little pick me up.

Ruby comes out of the kitchen with the cup for Emma and sits next to her. “Hey, stranger! So you have to tell me, how was he?”

Emma turns to Ruby confused. “Wait, what?”

“The hottie. You have been spending all your time with him for the last 48 hours or so and he is hot!” Ruby says as if it was the obvious conclusion.

“Nothing like that happened. Rubes, he is engaged.” Emma scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I know you like him.” Ruby scoots closer and hugs her friend.

Emma sighs. “I didn’t even tell him the truth about Leo . I wanted to, but he had been so nice to me already. I don’t know, I just didn’t want him to not want to spend time with me. Oh my God, Ruby I’m horrible!”

“Ems, you are not horrible. I think you might have met your match, though.”

“Okay, let’s say you are right. What does that mean for me? He is getting married. He is going home to her .” Emma puts her cup down and gets up to leave the diner.

Once Killian finally arrives back home, he explains to Liam that the letter they received was all a simple misunderstanding. Liam asks if it was all a simple misunderstanding, then why did he take so long to come back. Killian simply answers that he wanted the connection to their mother to last longer, which is something that Liam can completely understand.

Milah was a different story. She was not happy with his absence, and made him aware of it. As she talks about wedding plans and how grandiose the wedding is going to be, he can’t help but feel his stomach drop at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her.

Liam has noticed a change in his brother since coming back from Storybrooke several weeks ago; the way Killian cringes when Milah touches him, or tries to show any form of affection. So he decides to confront him about the change in behavior on a night when they are enjoying a night out together.

“Brother, may I ask you something?” Liam asks as they sit down to have a drink.

Killian smiles. “Aye, what is it?”

“Since your return, you have been acting strangely. You seem distant all the time, but it’s much worse when you are with Milah. I don’t know how she can be so oblivious,” Liam says.

“I’m not acting any different. Liam, I honestly don’t know what you are getting at,” Killian says defiantly.

“Brother, you might be able to lie to that strumpet you are to marry, but not to me. I know you and I know for a fact there’s something wrong, and I have a strong feeling it has to do with that letter and the lass that wrote it.” Liam states and sighs. “Remember that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets .”

Killian stares incredibly at his brother. “What are you saying?”

“Isn't it obvious? End your relationship with Milah and go after your girl!” Liam says smiling.

Killian doesn’t think twice and goes to face Milah.

The conversation consists of Milah yelling and throwing things at him once he said the words: It’s over. I just don’t love you.

In Storybrooke, Emma has talked to her suitors to let them know that there is no chance in them ever working out. She has decided that after school ended, she will take a break and travel. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and needs to get out of the small town.

On the day of the play, her nerves start to get the best of her. Part of her hopes for a miracle that perhaps Killian will take her up on her invitation.

Miss Blue has been pleasantly surprised at the creativity of the girls and after Emma had informed her that the Jones donation was going to continue, she calmed down.

On his flight back, Killian can't contain his excitement, but he feels a moment of panic and uncertainty. What if she doesn't feel the same? He has replayed their interactions over and over again in his mind since the engagement with Milah was called off. He is certain that Emma feels the same way towards him. Their conversation about their ideal mate makes him think she does. It’s a risk, but she is worth it. He will win her over no matter how long it takes.

Once his plane descends into Logan Airport, his nerves pick up again. He feels like a bloody schoolboy. He has decided to stay in Boston and then drive to Storybrooke the night of the play to surprise her. He has a feeling that if he were to stay at Granny's, his presence will not remain a secret for long.

He had been doing some shopping when he spotted the perfect dress for her. It was a pale pink dress with a bodice that would hug her curves and the neckline would give a tasteful, yet modest, view of what was hidden underneath. He just knows he has to get it for her.

The day of the play, he arrives a tad late in hopes to stay hidden in the shadows to properly surprise her. The production is in full swing and his eyes find his friend Leo and smiles fondly. It had been obvious that the school went to great lengths to provide an exceptional performance. After the final curtain, Killian finds his way backstage where a stunned Ruby greeted him with a wide smile.

"Hello, lass. I'm looking for--" Killian is interrupted by the girl.

"Oh, you're here! I know why you are here, just head to the last room in the hall." She smiles and winks at him.

Killian follows her instructions. He knocks softly and opens the door once he hears the familiar voice telling him to enter. He looks around and notices the stalls used to change outfits. He approaches the closed stall.

Killian starts talking, "I couldn't possibly miss this production."

Emma stops dressing on the other side of the stall, her heart beating so fast. Without thinking, she uses her Leo voice. "I'm happy you made it... There's something I should have told you before, but I was afraid--"

"There's nothing to fear," he says and she feels a box he pushed under the stall touch her feet. She picks it up and opens it, finding a dress inside.

Emma laughs. "You knew? All this time?"

Killian simply answers, "I'm a perceptive man, love. But the performance tonight confirmed my suspicions."

"Why aren’t you angry at me? I lied to you," Emma says as she looks at the dress. "And the dress?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

"I figured you would tell me in time when you were ready. I hope it's not presumptuous of me to hope that perhaps you would like to go on a date with me?"

There’s a brief quiet moment when the stall opens, revealing Emma wearing the dress with a smile on her face.

“You look-” Killian says, speechless.

“I know,” Emma says with a smirk. “And I would love to go on a date with you, but what about your engagement?”

He nods. “I broke it off because this amazing lass wrote a letter that helped me find what I truly craved; true love.”

She closes the short distance between them and pulls him to her in a crashing kiss, one filled with the emotion his words caused to overflow from her heart.

In the end, Emma goes through with her plans of traveling. The difference is she does it with a man that loves her and makes her the happiest she has ever been. All by following in her future mother-in-law to be's footsteps, leaving Storybrooke behind for her new home.

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