#maybe it’ll turn around soon but part 2 feels very empty and without direction

[homuracoded]

I miss Makima

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Biggest Fan 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warning: coercion, blackmail, porn, nonconsent sex, cheating, toyplay

🎀🎀🎀

The week that followed was torture. Andy was insatiable. He found reasons to have you in his office; soon enough on your knees beneath the desk. Just a little workday relief, he said. Or when the clock tolled, he’d have you in his car. That was even more uncomfortable as you feared onlookers through the windows. He hadn’t again taken you back to his house.

And after that first week, he seemed distracted. Worse, he was angry. He dropped files on your desk without a word only to text you moments later. ‘Not today’. That was it. No explanations. As much as you were thankful for his retreat, it set you on edge. He was still your boss; your degree, your future career, your life, were all in his hands.

You sat at your desk, the font across the screen blared into your retinas. You leaned back to rub your eyes and as your vision cleared, you glanced over at Andy’s open door. He had his phone in hand, that sinister smirk on his lips. You knew that look. It had been almost two weeks since that very expression had drowned in icy dread.

He looked up from his phone and his gaze met yours. His chest puffed out and he stared back at you. He waved you in with his other hand. You pointed to the case files stacked beside your computer. He shrugged and his smirk disappeared. He pointed at his desk. That was an order.

You got up and grabbed a random file from the stack. An alibi. You held it in front of your chest as you neared his door. You knocked on the frame and he gave his usual, absent, “come in.” He was convincing. You supposed lawyers needed to be great actors. He nodded to the door and you closed it as you entered.

“We need to talk.” He looked at the empty chair across from him. You sat and rested the file on your lap, picking anxiously at the edges. “I’m sorry, baby girl, I know I haven’t had much time.” He began as he leaned on the arm of his chair. “I was just missing you like hell.”

He turned his screen to you and displayed one of your photos. This one was in your bathtub, bubbles barely hiding your nudity. He bit his lip before he blackened the screen and tossed his phone on his desk.

“I understand. Maybe it’s better we don’t--”

“You keep on with that. I thought you were a good girl. A good worker.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “The last thing you want on your performance report is the word ‘combative’. That only works in the courtroom, not in the office.”

“Andy.”

“Mr. Barber.” He purred with a wink. “Remember your first day? I think I prefer ‘sir’ now, baby girl.”

“Mr. Barber, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to relax,” He steepled his hands together over the desk, his fingertips dragged through the short hairs along his chin. “I have good news.”

“Oh?” You blinked and crossed your ankles.

“My wife just left with Jacob. Took him out of town to see her parents. She understands I’m too busy here to take the time off.” He explained. “She’ll be gone all week.”

You were silent. You didn’t need to ask why he was telling you.

“It’ll be good. For us.” He smiled. “She’s been down my neck for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to get away from her.”

“You think she knows?” You asked softly. “If she did, she could--”

“If she knew, she would say so,” He said. “That’s just who she is and your desk would already be empty.”

You nodded and lowered your chin. You chewed your lip.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked as he leaned over his desk.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially your family.” You said.

“You keep this quiet, you keep me happy, and you don’t have to worry about all that.” He coaxed.

You mulled his words. What about your happiness? He really didn’t seem to care about that. You stood and waved the folder at him.

“I’m running behind. I should get back to it.” You said.

“Sure,” He sat back and pushed his legs apart. “Do me a favour before you do.”

You stared at him. He tilted his head. 

“You’ve earned a break. Go take a little photo for me.” He winked. “It will get me through the rest of the day.”

“And-- Mr. Barber, I can’t.” You glanced at the door. “I have to get this done.”

��No, you have to listen to me. I’m your boss.” He snarled. “Now, you go on.” He rolled closer to his desk and picked up his phone. “Oh, and uh, wait for me after work. I’ll pick you up in our usual spot.”

“Sir.” You said grimly as you grabbed the door handle.

Was all this worth it? It wasn’t too late to just start over, but you had done so much work already. You were so close. Well, you had known this profession was cutthroat. Swallow your lumps and one day you’d be in the big office making the rules.

🎀

The drive was silent. You could feel Andy looking at you in the rear view at every corner. His hand drifted to your thigh when it wasn’t on the stick. You sat stiffly, staring ahead. You wanted to sink into the seat entirely; become a part of it.

As you entered his house, you felt sick. You looked around at the photos of his family, of the remnants of their departure. A book on the arm of the couch, a game controller on the coffee table. You were intruding.

“Upstairs,” Andy set his briefcase down and took your bag from your shoulder. “I have a surprise.”

“I don’t like being here.” You said.

“You didn’t seem to hate it last time.” His hand went to the small of your back and he nudged you towards the stairs. “What’s the matter? You like the kitchen? We can come back to it.”

You shook your head but stayed silent. You climbed the stairs as he lingered behind you and his hand spread over your ass. He didn’t draw away until you reached the top.

“At the end,” He directed.

You continued on and entered the bedroom at the end of the hall. It smelled like gardenia and him. It was their room. You hesitated and stayed far from the bed. You turned and saw yourself in the round mirror hung on the wall. You had to look away.

You spun around and watched Andy go to the bed. He got down on a knee and reached beneath. He pulled something hidden up in the frame and revealed the long box. It was wrapped in lilac paper. He stood and neared you. He held it out to you.

“I’ve been waiting to give you this,” He said. 

You frowned as you searched his face, then your eyes fell to the box. You took it with a numb ‘thanks’, spoken on sheer instinct. He backed away and pulled off his jacket. He slung it over the chair by the window and turned back to you as he tugged on his tie.

“Well, open it! It’s part of the fun.” He untangled his tie and dropped it over his jacket.

You sighed and ran your thumb along a fold of paper. You tore open the wrap and revealed the black box with a plastic window. Inside that, a glittery pink dildo was displayed. You crumpled the paper in your hand as you stared at the toy. Aside from being tacky, it was huge.

“You like it?” He asked as he came closer.

You looked up at him. His brows drew together and you nodded. His lips slanted and he took the box from you.

“How about I get this all ready for you…” He peeled back the seal. “And you get ready for me.” He nodded to your attire. “Get nice and comfy on the bed.”

You nodded again. It was all you could do to keep from running away. He left you and disappeared into the attached bathroom. You listened to a draw glide open and you stepped out of your heels. You shed your blazer and then your striped blouse. You wiggled out of your skirt and Andy reappeared, loading batteries into the toy.

“Panties?” He mused. “When did you start wearing those?”

You ignored him and unclasped your bra. The sooner this was done with, the sooner you could be gone and flagellate your soul with self-loathing. 

You tossed away your bra then your panties as Andy watched. You could hear his eager breaths as he beckoned you towards the bed. You sat on the end as he held the toy up.

“I’m sure you can figure it out.” He purred as he shoved it closer. “I just wanna watch, baby girl.”

You took it and looked around. “Do we have to do it in here?”

“Trust me, it’s the most action this room will see for a while.” He brought his hands up to frame your face. “So lay back and relax.” His hands fell to your shoulders and he kneaded them. “You’re so tense. You need it.”

You fell away from him and bounced on your back. You pushed your legs apart as they hung over the edge of the mattress. You reluctantly grazed the tip of the toy along your pelvis. Andy stepped back and let out a sultry hum. You clicked the dildo on and closed your eyes.

You pushed the toy down against your cunt. You wiggled it just a little and found your clit. The soft buzz quickly sent a wave of electricity through you. Your feet arched and you hissed through your teeth. You rubbed the toy back and forth, working yourself up as you tried to forget the man looming around you.

“You think you can fit it all, baby girl?” He asked. “Hmm? You’re so tight.”

You moaned but couldn’t answer. You didn’t want to.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” His voice was low and gritty as he ran his hand up your leg. 

You bit your lip and angled the dildo along your folds. Your pussy clenched as you reached your entrance and you paused. He grabbed your hand around the base of the you and he guided the tip inside you. You gasped and he pushed deeper. Your thighs tensed as he released you and grasped your thigh to keep your legs apart.

“Keep going,” He order.

You whined as you drew the toy back and then pushed it back in, even further. His fingers tickled your leg and he lifted your foot up onto the bed to bend your leg completely. Then he raised the other and withdrew.

You whimpered as the dildo sank deeper and your eyes fluttered open. You gulped and his figure moved around the bed.

“That’s it, baby girl.” As he came closer, you saw the phone in his hand, pointed at your body. “Just like that. Look how fucking wet your are.”

“Are you rec--”

He shushed you and put his hand over yours once more. He shoved the toy to its limit and you cried out. He guided it in and out of you, fast and hard. Your voice grew louder and louder as he battered your walls with the silicone.

“Ow, please.”

“Don’t stop.” He growled as he slipped his hand away and pressed his thumb to your clit. 

He swirled around your bud and flicked up and down as your hand worked around his. You trembled as your core pulsed and the pressure grew suffocating. His low purrs mingled with your helpless moans and you arched your back as you struggled to keep the toy moving. 

You came and felt the gush around the dildo. You writhed and let out a guttural noise as you were awash with pleasure. You panted as he slowly pulled away and you pressed your legs together as you turned onto your side, crushing your hand between your thighs. The toy slowly slipped out of you as you laid, senseless and weak, at the end of the bed.

Andy’s large hand spread over your ass and continued down your thigh, making you quiver. He gripped your hip and pushed until you turned entirely onto your stomach.

“This part is just for me.” He said as he got down behind you and tossed his phone up on the pillow. “You’re mine. All mine.”

[the-silentium]

11

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reincarnation!Reader

Words: 2755 words

Warnings: TUA season 1 and 2 spoilers, violence, blood, mention of torture, swearing, angst.

Requested by: @asphodelshare​

Hi! I read your Five fics and I like your style of writing! If it’s not too much to ask, could you write one where Five had to leave the reader back in the 2019 Apocalypse bc he didn’t have a choice. He then sees her 1963 counterpart, she doesn’t know him and he tries to stop himself from reconnecting w/ her but he can’t help himself. It’s up to you if it’ll end on a happy note or an angsty one! Xx

A/N: The Eternals are my personal touch, so I guess this should be considered an AU of some sort. I'm sure this wasn't what you thought would happen, I'll be frank, it wasn't what I thought either 😂 The end just wrote itself! And it wasn't what I had planned. Ouups. 

He tried. Really, he tried. Ever since the first time he saw you walking in the street wearing a school uniform, a school bag hanging loosely on your shoulder and a lunchbox in hand, Five had had a hard time resisting his need to run to you and hug your form with all his might. Granted, Five had no proof that the girl walking away from him was this time-line version of you, she could simply be a perfect replica of your 15 years old self with the same habit of drawing on her school furniture, the same bright smile and the same bewitching laugh. Yes, she was just a replica. A too perfect replica. 

Five forced his legs to take him away from her walking form and tried to push the girl at the back of his mind. He had to concentrate on his task to stop the new apocalypse and return back in 2019 where he left you. 

It never was in the plan to let you die under the meteor shower that ravaged the Earth, if anything you were at the top of his list of people he had to save. Unfortunately Five came to the conclusion that the past was a place way too dangerous for you to venture, add this to the Commission who would surely double down their effort to kill the Hargreeves and whoever helped them, your chances of dying in the past were way too high for his liking. The boy would never be able to live with himself if you were to die permanently in the past and not for only a few days in 2019. 

For a whole day, Five managed to forget about the girl and his feelings altogether. Alongside Diego, he broke into their father's company building and discovered some precious information. The part of the night involving the younger Pogo let him a bitter taste in his mouth but it didn't stop him in the slightest. Back at Morty's, Five was almost surprised to find his brother still breathing on the couch, his new partner in crime cauterizing his bullet-wound. 

"Did you cut yourself shaving? I can teach you to shave like a big boy." Sighing the boy put a gaze to the bleeding scratches burning his neck. All he could hope now was that Pogo didn't give him Herpes B. 

"No, I just ran into an old family friend." Five turned around towards the kitchen in hope of finding a perfectly brewed coffee pot. He groaned in disappointment when he noticed that not only was the coffee pot empty, but Elliott wasn't tied in the chair anymore. 

"You untied him?" Five shot Lila a brief glance before returning his attention to his surroundings, listening attentively to any sound allowing him to pin-point the man's location. 

"No. Was I supposed to?" 

Ignoring her question, Five made his way to the rooms down the hallway. He never ventured there before, he assumed that the three doors lead to a bedroom and some storage rooms filled with conspiracy theories just like the living room. Turns out he was partially right. 

Elliott's bedroom was empty, the bed still undone. The next door opened on a black room with pictures hanging on the walls and dyeing material placed neatly. 

From behind the last door, Five could hear two distinct muffled voices. He recognized the first one as Elliott's but the second one made him frown in concentration. It sounded familiar even though he never really talked to anyone from this time-line other than Lila and Elliott. 

Confused, Five opened the door, not prepared at all to see you standing in front of a seated Elliott, the two of you arguing in hushed voices. The cracking door alerted you, your angry gaze instantly found him, standing in your doorway with his mouth slightly opened in shock like an idiot. 

Five gulped as you made your way to him, there was no way that she wasn't you. Not only did she look exactly like you, but her pissed-off expression was the same as the you he knew. Your fists were tight at your sides, no doubt giving you the courage to not back down before him, your furrowed brows created little wrinkles that Five desperately wanted to ease away by a light stroke of his fingers and your eyes. Oh your eyes. How he had missed their spark. 

“Who are you?” You harshly asked while poking his chest with your delicate finger. 

Five had a hard time keeping his arms to his sides, preventing them from pulling you into a tight hug that you were sure to hate. Instead, he breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm his frantic heart. “E- What are you doing here?” He mentally cursed the slight waver in his voice, then again, you tended to have that effect on him. 

“I live here. Why are you here?” 

He was at a loss of words and couldn't help but stare at you in disbelief. You lived here?

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Elliott stood up, his anxiety showing in the form of a hand scratching the back of his neck. “This is my daughter Y/N. Y/N this is- this is- eh. He’s one of them.” 

You even had the same name! It finally clicked into Five's head. He had heard of the rare phenomenon back in his days at the Commission, someone extremely important to the balance of the time-line would reincarnate after each one of their deaths to keep the time-line on track. Those very few, only eight in the whole world, were constantly chased by the Commission who in the beginning tried to discover the secret of their perpetual rebirths but then changed their goal to killing them as soon as they could when they discovered that the reincarnations could remember their past and future lives. Five had always thought that the Eternals, as the Commission called them, were just a story created by bored time analysts to kill time. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, a small smile slipped out of his control at the perspective that this was really you right in front of him, his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime and the object of his affection. 

“The name’s Five.” So far you didn’t seem to remember him. Maybe you were too young or it was too soon. He had no idea how your condition worked.

"I don't care, asswad. You and your friends tied my father to a chair-" Five's heart stopped at the insult modern you used to call him all the time when his shitty attitude managed to get on your nerves. As much as he hated the nickname, he couldn’t help the rush of excitement he felt when he heard it. You may be starting to remember your future even if you were unaware of it.

"He tried to shoot us." Five deadpanned quickly remembering why they tied the man in the first place. 

"You are in our house!"

"He invited us in." Okay, this one was a lie. Five had space-jumped in first, but then Elliott hadn't kicked him out so he would consider it as an invitation to stay.  

"Dad!" You turned to the embarrassed grown-up, disbelief written all over your face. 

Five decided to let them argue alone and go control his ever growing feelings somewhere else, preferably somewhere you were not. Walking back to the kitchen to finally make himself some coffee, Five thought about how he could help you remember who you were- no, will be. 

“What’s the beeping?” Lila’s voice broke through his reasoning, catching his attention when she poked the computer screen. 

Five made his way toward the machine, a grin stretching his lips. “Vanya.” In a second he jumped away, carrying on with his plan to gather his siblings.

It was only two days later that he saw you next. You were eating your breakfast while quickly scribbling on a poor paper sheet, your foot bouncing rapidly on the floor as the seconds passed. Five was watching you over his warm cup of coffee, swiftly averting his gaze whenever you would lift yours. An elbow hit his shoulder, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall on the floor, wasting his precious black liquid. 

“What?” Five snapped at Luther after making sure his drink didn’t spill over his hand. 

“Why is Y/N here?” His whispering was not subtle at all although luckily for the blue-eyed boy, the sizzling eggs covered the excessive sound. 

Five went to his brother’s side, turning his back to you in the meantime. “She’s not the same Y/N. Well, she is but-” He groaned at the complexity of the situation. His brother would definitely not understand, so he went with the easy way out. “Long story short, this is her past life. Now stop talking abou-” 

“Oh, hey even your little girlfriend made it here.” Diego joined the conversation without a care in the world. He grabbed a plate along with some toast before dropping them at Five’s outburst.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” He could feel his body heating up despite his best efforts. 

All three of them tensed for their own reasons yet they all not so subtly turned their heads in your direction. If looks could kill, they would definitely be at the verge of death. 

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Five just received his killing blow. 

You hurriedly grabbed your bag under the table and rushed out of the room, paper in hand. The silence following your exit permitted your last words to bounce in his head, hurting his feelings like nothing before. If he could gauge the pain he felt at this right moment on a scale of 1 to 10, he would say that without a doubt this was a 10. 

What you said was the plain truth. In any lives of yours did you and him became a thing. It didn’t stop the fact that after all these years suppressing his romantic attraction toward you, Five had nurtured the hope that maybe one day, you two could be more than friends. Today this hope just blew up in his face, mauling his heart in the process.

So in the blink of an eye, the boy disappeared from the kitchen to live his pain alone, away from prying eyes and the pity of his brothers. 

Later that same day, Five was nursing his seventh cup of steaming coffee of the day when someone sat next to his own spot on the second floor, legs dangling in the air where the floor stopped to show the once TV shop. He sipped on his coffee as an attempt to show them that he wasn’t interested in the slightest in what they had to say, needless to say that it didn’t work. He should be used by now, it never worked.

“I’m impressed that you didn’t die from a heart attack or something. Your blood pressure should be pretty high with all the coffee that you drink in a day.” He nearly choked on his sip when your soft voice reached his ears. 

He turned to you, baffled to see you smirking at him. Not angry. Not annoyed. Playful. "You know, if you weren't from the future and weren’t endangering my father by your mere presence here, I would have loved to be your friend." 

Just when Five thought that he couldn’t be surprised anymore! "How do yo-?"

"Klaus doesn't stop talking about how he misses youtube." The boy sighed, clearly his brother couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He wondered if sewing his mouth shut would suffice to shut him up for good. Knowing Klaus, he would definitely find a way to express himself without his mouth. “Also I remember you, asswad.” You bumped his shoulder with yours before crossing your arms on the railing before you and resting your head on them. 

His eyes went wide, the meaning of your words slowly registering into his brain. He turned to you, trying in vain to not get his hopes up about your remembrance. A very genuine smile stretched your lips, making Five almost drop his mug on the floor below. He then realized that if you could remember your future life, then you surely remembered your future death and with it, how Five abandoned you to your demise. Guilt pulled at his heart at imagining what you went through because of him and fear darkened his heart at the thought that not only your past self would hate him but your modern self too. 

Something on his cheek caught his attention, the delicate stroke of your fingers awoke a fire under his skin when he noticed your gesture and the concerned frown disturbing your perfect features. This time around he couldn’t stop himself and reached forward, smoothing the creased skin with a light brush of his fingertips. 

“I’m sorry.” His hand dropped in defeat at his side, his gaze fleeing yours. 

“What for?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“I abandoned you to die.” His voice was so small, saying it aloud made him doubt his choice. He closed his eyes tightly to keep the tears away, his remorses started eating him alive. 

You moved closer and took the mug out of his hand when it was within your reach. You disposed of it before wrapping your arms around his waist and put your chin on his shoulder. He didn’t open his eyes, instead closing them tighter to the point that he started to see stars dance behind his eyelids. 

“You.” You blowed on the side of his face. Once. Twice. “Hey you. Open your eyes.” You sighed when he merely relaxed his facial muscles but kept his eyes shut. “I understand you know? You had to. I’m not mad.” 

You proceeded to poke his cheek when the absence of reaction on his part was starting to get on your nerves. “I’m talking to you, asswad!”

You gasped when Five suddenly turned his head to the side and connected his lips to yours with force. His hands found the side of your face to keep you close when his lips moved with yours in a desperate motion, as if you would vanish at any seconds. At one point, the kiss stopped tasting coffee, a salty taste replacing the strong addicting aroma.

Slowly Five pulled away to discover tears running down your cheeks. His first reaction was to close his hands into fists wanting to jump away and remove his damned heart from his chest with his bare hands. As the blue waves flowed around his fists, your lips stretched in a smile stealing his breath. 

"Took you long enough." Your almost imperceptible whisper was so loud in his ears. 

A smile mirroring your own formed on his face, he was beyond the moon all the while asking himself how he could have been so stupidly blind to your feelings. 

"We got there, that's what's important." You hummed in agreement before repositioning your head on his shoulder and contemplating what next. 

A few days passed and Five along with his siblings met their father. Needless to say that it went down pretty quickly. For some odd reason, Five found himself thinking that it could have been worse. Someone could have died. Or hurt. Everyone was in one piece if we didn't count Diego's soul. 

Space-jumping back at Morty's, Five thought that he was horribly wrong. Elliott's body laid in a chair obviously having been tortured before being executed. As much as the boy wanted to feel bad for the man who played such a great role helping him reach his goal, every thought that passed through his mind was directed at you. 

Five yelled your name before jumping from room to room before he noticed a crimson red trail leading to the black room. 

His shaking hand grabbed the handle of the slightly opened door, pushing it with a shaky breath escaping his lungs. 

If it wasn't of your school uniform you were wearing, Five couldn't have said for sure that this broken body was yours. The obvious torture you went through got him on his knees, water pooling from his eyes like two rivers. 

He was wrong. So dearly wrong. This, right now, was the worst pain he ever felt. He didn't even have to open his chest to relieve himself of his excruciating pain for his heart had completely stopped at the agony scaled to 11.

[sweetjekyll]

Under The Same Roof, part 2 — BBH

pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

genre: Roommate / Flatmate AU, one-shot, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, blind date rating: teen and up warnings: tiniest and slightest bit of angst and jealousy, slightly suggestive towards the end word count: 5.2k

summary: Baekhyun and Y/N have been flatmates for a while and romance is in the air.

Requested: Part 2 was highly requested by both known readers and anons, so I hope you all enjoy the continuation of the first part! (keyword “roof” + sentence “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.” from this writing game post.)

Masterlist — PART 1

A/N: aaaaah it’s finally here! Merry Christmas everyone and happy holidays. I hope you’re healthy and surrounded with love, and I hope all of you are having a good time even if you don’t celebrate Christmas. Thank you to everyone who supported the first part of this story and patiently waited for the second part, I hope you will like this one as much as the first if not more! I made it way longer than the first part and added a bonus ending. Have fun reading! stay safe ❤

⟶ To my dear readers: feedback is highly encouraged and important! as it gives me motivation to write with more passion, knowing that you like what you are reading. Please LIKE and REBLOG so more people can find this and read it. ❤ My askbox is always open for questions or to chat ❤

Enjoy! ❤

The guys could’ve spent practically all night playing games, but Chanyeol had other plans in mind after the short chat he had with Sehun and Baekhyun about the latter’s crush on his roommate. Sehun was never one to turn down an invite to drink with his friends no matter the day of the week, so the fact that he agreed immediately to Chanyeol’s suggestion when he asked the two if they wanted to go have a drink at the bar Y/N and Baekhyun worked, it was an easy “yes”. You would’ve had about an hour and a half until it was closing time at 11PM, as it was a Thursday anyway.

Baekhyun on the other hand wasn’t that easy to convince. He was supposed to work the following morning and be at his best to serve freshly brewed coffee to university students, professors and other customers who liked to linger in the early hours of daylight. Also, Thursday nights were one of the few times he got to relax after working shifts from morning to late afternoon.

“I know you two,” Baekhyun scowled at his friends, who were waiting in the doorway to his bedroom while he pushed one of his legs in a pair of old black jeans. “It’s never just one drink with you… I’ll end up wasted under one of the tables and then Y/N will have to carry me home.”

“For someone so eager to get dressed and walk out of the house, you’re complaining too much.” Sehun smirked as he nudged Chanyeol with his elbow.

“Don’t worry, it’s just one drink,” Chanyeol reassured him as Baekhyun was finally done getting dressed. “Besides, you literally live a couple of blocks from your job and neither of us has to drive. We’ll call a taxi.” There was a faint yet lingering smile of satisfaction on the taller man’s face. He wasn’t really a patient guy and his mind was still in a frenzy after coming up with a plan to get Baekhyun and his flatmate to go out on a date.

Baekhyun threw on a leather jacket and brushed back his bangs with his fingers, ready to step out of the apartment. He was about to lock the door after switching off the lights but then stopped as he thought about something for a brief moment. “Hang on, I forgot something.” He let his friends know as he hurried back inside and into the bathroom.

Once he was back and finally locked the door, both Chanyeol and Sehun got a whiff of something in the air. “Is that… Perfume?” They asked inquisitive.

Baekhyun furrowed his brows as he walked past them down the corridor. “And what about it? Y/N gifted it to me for my birthday.”

“This is going to be easier than I thought,” Chanyeol hummed as they headed towards your workplace at last.

The cafe turned into bar during evenings looked cozy in autumns and winters; some Halloween decorations lingered here and there although it was past October and halfway through into November, but the fake vine leaves painted red, yellow and orange warmed up the walls nicely. You liked the fall decorations, but you loved even more winter and Christmas decorations, although it was a hassle to take everything down and put new things up, it was still satisfying as the end result.

You spotted Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Sehun out of the corner of your eye as soon as they entered the bar thanks to the bell ringing on top of the door. “There you go, Lucas,” you placed a glass of cold beer on top of a napkin in front of one of your regular customers and looked around, quickly facing the three new friendly faces once you made sure that no one else needed your services. “Good evening guys!” You said cheerfully, a warm feeling spreading through your chest to see Baekhyun keeping his promise to come pick you up after work, even more so considering he was rather early for it.

“Ah, my favorite bartender!” Sehun mused as he leaned against the counter with a smirk on his expression. ”You look a bit overworked although there aren’t many customers.”

Baekhyun noticed it as well and looked behind the counter and around the familiar workplace. “Where’s Minseok? Weren’t you two supposed to work tonight’s shift together?”

You inhaled a long breath as you glanced down with busy eyes to grab a rag from a hidden surface on your workspace, then picked it up and cleaned the countertop in front of the three men. “I think he had something for dinner that upset his stomach to the point where he was nauseated.” You winced as you explained to them without much detail as you didn’t know how your coworker was doing after he left. “I told him to go home and rest just in case… But anyway,” you smiled once again. “What can I get you guys to drink?” You asked as you returned the rag in its previous spot and placed three napkins on the counter.

“For starters, I’d say shots of soju and then beers?” Chanyeol looked at his friends but Baekhyun shook his head when he heard the doorbell signal the arrival of more customers.

“I’ll help Y/N,” he said and promptly walked behind the counter to join you. He picked up one of the aprons matching yours from a hanger on the wall and put it on after he took off his jacket.

“Don’t worry Baek, it’s your night off,” you tried to persuade him to just enjoy the night with his friends but he just gave you his usual warm and reassuring smile that made your heart flutter with content.

“Nonsense,” he shrugged as he spun around to softly bump his shoulder into yours and looked into your eyes, “I’m happy to work with you.” You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and you could barely hide the smile that graced your lips once your coworker welcomed the new customers with a loud and cheerful tone.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed to the two friends sitting on the other side of the counter, across from you. Chanyeol nudged Sehun with his elbow and whispered to just play along, after he made sure that Baekhyun’s ears were out of reach for what he was about to say. You placed two shots of soju on the napkins and turned around to fill two glasses with beer. “So, Y/N,” you looked over your shoulder for a brief second at Chanyeol, “are you single?”

The question wasn’t new to your ears, especially after working as a bartender, but it still caught you off guard coming from him. “I did not expect you to ask me something like this, Mr. Park.” You confessed with a chuckle while walking back to take away the empty shot glasses and placed two glasses filled to the brim with foaming beer. “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, are you?” Sehun questioned with a raised eyebrow, carefully picking up the glass to take a sip from it while holding your suspicious gaze.

You let your shoulders slump with a sigh as you averted their eyes and, without meaning to, you looked in Baekhyun’s direction. “Yes, I’m single.” You nodded as your smile faltered, you looked around at the other customers while feeling a bit nervous.

“Perfect!” Chanyeol beamed as he clapped his hands once and leaned closer to the counter, you just eyed him with suspicion. “There’s this very nice guy, he’s a bit talkative and playful,” he began explaining but kept it quite mysterious, “A friend of ours, you know… I would like you do go on a blind date with him.”

“I’m sorry… What now?” You were taken aback by his sudden request that you didn’t know how else to react. It was a nice gesture, sure… but you already had feelings for someone else and weren’t sure if a blind date would be a good idea, not at the moment at least.

“I promise he’s a very friendly and good guy,” Sehun added, playing along to Chanyeol’s plan although they didn’t even talk about it beforehand. He licked his lips to get the residue of the beer foam and arched his brows at you. “Unless you like somebody else already.” Blood rushed to your face and you felt hot under your clothes, hesitant about answering your foot started bouncing nervously and you crossed your arms. Should you be honest and tell them or should you keep it for yourself? Well… “There is someone I like.” You confessed, but it just made you sad to say it so you continued before they could ask anything else about this crush of yours. “But I don’t think it’ll work out so I might as well go on a blind date with your friend.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Baekhyun’s curious voice made you slightly jolt on your feet and you flashed him a nervous smile. “Are you going on a date?” You tilted your head unsure of what to say since he was the one person you didn’t want to find out about this blind date, at least not like this… or ever. You thought you could maybe just go at the date and never call back Chanyeol and Sehun’s friend, but then another question popped in your head. Does Baekhyun know this friend of theirs? Would he mind? It’s not like he had feelings for you, so why were you so worried about it?

Thankfully, you heard the voice of one of your customers call for you and used it as an excuse to leave. “This is a discussion for another time, I gotta go back to work!” And just like that you were gone in an instant, meanwhile Baekhyun faced Chanyeol and Sehun with a half disappointed and half irritated expression.

“A blind date?!” He hissed under his breath.

They both nodded with pleased smirks. “She said yes, so you better make this work, otherwise you’re truly hopeless.” Chanyeol replied and finally let himself taste the beer that’s been sitting in front of him on the counter for a while.

Baekhyun’s anger dissipated immediately, his eyes widened in surprise and his mouth fell agape. “You set us up on a blind date?” He whispered while stealing glances in your direction. His heart rate began speeding up while he watched you smile politely at a couple who were paying for their drinks, getting ready to leave.

“Although…” Sehun inhaled a long breath as he looked down at his drink, his smile faded. Baekhyun’s attention was immediately on him, feeling his heart drop at the man’s words. “She did say she likes someone.” Chanyeol gave him a hard nudge with his elbow, eliciting a pained groan from the man sitting next to him. “What?! I’m just saying, she didn’t say who… Y/N thinks it’s not going to work out so you don’t have to worry.”

Baekhyun sighed and scratched his head, too many thoughts were running through his head in that moment and he didn’t know how to process the fact that there indeed was someone you liked… You’ve been friends for a few years and were roommates as well, so why did you not talk to him about this person you seem to like so much?

He became rather quiet that night and even the following days, he was practically sulking since he was stuck with the thought that the blind date was going to be a disaster. That didn’t stop Chanyeol from insisting on taking care of all the details about the date, he went as far as borrowing both yours and Baekhyun’s work schedules to set up a perfect timing for you to meet. You noticed immediately the change in his behavior, he wasn’t avoiding you, he would never do that, but he was acting too distant. You tried asking but didn’t push further because maybe he needed some time for himself, otherwise he would have opened up to you, at least you hoped.

It went on like that for a couple of days until you couldn’t take it anymore, you missed Baekhyun being his usual playful and loud self, he was the source of your serotonin and it affected your mood as well. It was the last few days of November, the shop was closed for the day due to the fact that you needed to take down the autumnal decorations and brighten up the place with Christmas ones.

“Baekhyun, we really need to talk.” You told him with a preoccupied tone, hoping he wouldn’t try and dodge the conversation as he had been doing for nearly half of November. He didn’t look at you from his high place on the ladder, instead, his pupils were fixed on his fingers unrolling the fairy lights and hanging them on the wall, supported by nails that had been stuck into the bricks for who knows how many years.

“Alright, alright,” he nodded and hummed for a moment, pausing his work to look down; your hands were securely holding onto the ladder for him and keeping it in place so he felt safe to be up there, occasionally passing him Christmas decorations from the boxes piled up next to your feet. “I’ll clean and decorate the bathrooms.”

You scoffed, incredulous that he actually managed to talk about anything else but his feelings. “I’m not talking about the bathroom, but since you said you’re going to do it, I won’t stop you.”

“Damn!” He chuckled with a shake of his head and went back to fixing the lights. “Okay, let’s talk, but I warn you, if this is about me—“

“It’s precisely about you! You’ve been avoiding my questions, I’m concerned about you. Something happened and you haven’t openly spoken to me ever since that night at the bar.” You interjected and heard him complain with a groan of your name, to which you let go of the ladder, making the man almost scream in fear.

“What are you doing—“ High pitched words reached your ears as you crossed your arms and just gazed up at him with arched brows, feeling so done with his behavior. He dropped the fairy lights without meaning to and wrapped his hands on both sides of the ladder, holding on for dear life. “No, no, no— Okay, fine! I’ll tell you, just please don’t let go of the ladder.” You held onto the ladder once more and watched him climb down until he was finally to your eye level. “There’s this girl I like, I’ve liked her for a while now actually.” Baekhyun let out a long, defeated sigh. “Turns out she likes some other person and I don’t know why I thought I could—“ He stopped himself from saying anything else as he ran one of his hand over his face, frustrated that he was confessing to you how he felt, except he was still hiding the actual truth. What a coward, he thought. He was convinced now more than ever that the blind date was truly a bad idea, he just didn’t know how to tell Chanyeol that he didn’t have the balls to go through with it and accept your rejection once you found out he was your secret date. “I like her a lot.” He added.

You felt you heart fasten at his words, it was drumming so hard that the pulse in your ears felt deafening… Baekhyun liked another girl, you repeated to yourself in your head. For a short moment and in a totally awkward silence you felt like an idiot; an idiot for feeling jealousy when he mentioned another girl, when you should’ve said something to comfort him. You were frowning, unable to move or say anything coherent until you forced yourself to say: “I’m sorry.” You bit your lip and looked down at your hands. “She’s an idiot.” You spit out with slight anger lacing your words.

“Why do you say so?” His tone softened when he noticed how upset you were over what he told you, he didn’t think you would care that much about a girl not liking him back… and the worst part was that you were that girl. “She’s allowed to like someone else, it’s just that I’m a coward and I didn’t tell her that I like her because I’m afraid of her rejecting me.” It felt so surreal that he was running his mouth like that, actually confessing the truth to you but you still had no idea.

Your head head snapped up towards him with your lips parted, ready to fight back his insecurities, except you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was already too late. “Well, she’s still dumb! Because what other girl wouldn’t like you? I like you!"

"You do?" He whispered almost breathless, too stunned to say anything else as soon as he processed your words; the corners of his lips curved up in a genuine and shy smile, yet you barely saw it since you looked down and bent you body forward to pick up a box with decorations and left him standing there. Your face was burning so hot with embarrassment it almost felt like you were going to combust. "Y/N, hang on, let’s talk it out—“ He tried to go after you, but you walked past the counter and entered the women’s bathroom, closing the door behind you. You dropped the box on the counter by the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror, cursing under your breath ad at yourself for being so careless with your words.

“Wait, hold on…” One of your friends, Hana, laughed at you on the phone for the second time that night, after you explained to her what happened at the coffee shop.

“I swear to God, Hana, there’s nothing to laugh about.” You mumbled, holding your phone against your ear with you shoulder; your hands were too busy going through the clothes in your wardrobe, searching for anything remotely cute and appropriate for a blind date.

“There actually is,” she continued laughing at your misery. “You confessed to Baekhyun that you actually like him, that’s a good thing isn’t it? I mean, he didn’t have a bad reaction, so where’s the problem, Y/N?” You groaned as you threw a pair of torn up jeans on the floor of your bedroom and took your phone in your hands.

“That’s the point, I chickened out!” You walked to the foot of the bed and let yourself fall on your back, bouncing on the mattress. “He tried to talk to me about it but I just couldn’t do it, so I locked myself in the bathroom. I’m the clown of the month!”

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re unbelievable.” Hana’s laughter rung in your ear with disbelief for the situation you got yourself into, but soon quieted down to a serious tone. “Listen, you have to face him at some point. You can’t just avoid him forever.”

You sat up on the bed and thought about what she said, your eyes burning holes into the door leading to the living room of your shared apartment. Baekhyun wasn’t home yet, he was still setting up decorations at the bar with Minseok and going over December’s inventory. “What about this girl he said he likes?” A pout formed on your lips, like a child whining to their parent.

“You won’t know until you talk to him.” You sighed out loud and eyed the mess on your bedroom floor, clothes lying on top of each other as if your wardrobe got stormed by a hurricane. “Earth to Y/N, are you there? Promise you’ll talk to him?”

You snapped out of your daze and rubbed your eyes as you replied to her. “Yeah, sure, I’ll talk to him,” you replied in defeat. “But it’ll have to wait until after this stupid blind date. It’s tonight and I don’t even know what to wear…” You heard a noise come from the living room and gasped out loud, jiggling of keys made you jump on your feat and run towards the door until you pressed your side against it. “He’s here, I gotta go. Bye Hana!” You whispered with your heart drumming in your chest and said goodbye to your friend, before hanging up the call. “Baekhyun?” You carefully called out his name and waited impatiently for a reply.

His muffled voice came from the other side of the door, and as careful as you had been, he called out your name. “Are you okay? Can I come in?” He was right outside of your bedroom, your nerves were killing you and you didn’t know what to do, yet against your better judgement, you moved away from the door and opened it. You bit your tongue as you met Baekhyun’s reassuring smile, somehow eliciting a smile from your lips as well. Seeing as you had not replied to his questions, Baekhyun let his eyes look past you and onto the pile of clothing on the floor. “Getting ready for the blind date?”

You looked in the same direction his pupils did and chuckled with a slow nod. “Yeah, I just don’t know what to wear yet…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll look beautiful no matter what you choose to wear.” The sweetness of his words made you hyper aware of the way he was looking at you now, and you weren’t sure why it seemed… different.

“Thank you…” You almost stuttered. Your heart was ramming against your ribcage so hard you could have passed out from the lightheadedness it caused you, but you forced yourself to break the eye contact and walked further inside your bedroom. You picked up two dresses from the wardrobe, one filled with cute floral patterns and the other was a solid dark blue color. “Which one looks better for a fancy dinner?” You asked him, unsure whether it was a good idea but Baekhyun actually pointed at the dark blue dress with a cheerful smile. It was weird to say the least, he appeared to be more excited for your blind date than you were, and you didn’t even know who Chanyeol was trying to set you up with. “Okay, this dress it is then.”

“By the way, I need to go out in a bit.” Baekhyun caught you off guard and you just stared at him with slightly widened eyed. “Is there anything that you need before I leave?”

“Mmmh, no… No.” You show your head and flashed him a reassuring smile even though you were still nervous. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, see you later, Y/N.” He reached out for the handle and closed the door after himself.

As soon as you heard the lock click, you exhaled a long, shaky breath and dropped the dresses on the bed. “And there he goes…” You whispered, choosing to replace the deafening silence with some music from your phone.

Baekhyun stood in the hallways while holding onto his breath, ears listening to you shuffling around your bedroom before any other sound was drowned out by you favorite playlist. He had been dreading this blind date for so many days and now that it was happening — especially after he found out he was the person you liked and not some other guy — Baekhyun felt elated. He was ready to get dressed and run out of the door to get you flowers, unfortunately not your favorite ones because they were out of season, but he was still gonna get something pretty. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you were going to react once you met him at the restaurant as your date. Too much energy was coursing through his veins in that moment, he could barely contain himself.

Everything was perfect. Baekhyun had to remember to thank Chanyeol for taking care of the reservation, the restaurant was truly lovely and felt intimate, soft fairy lights were hanging from the red brick walls, adding to the romantic atmosphere of slightly dimmed lighting, a small candle was illuminating the table at which Baekhyun sat. A bouquet of pink and white chrysanthemums rested on his right side as he, on the other hand, couldn’t help but nervously fiddle with his fingers under the tablecloth. A shy smile graced his joyful expression while his eyes darted to the watch on his left wrist, growing restless as you were late to your date.

Baekhyun’s smile faltered when he felt his phone vibrating in the pocket of his elegant blazer, he shut his eyes tightly and prayed that it wasn’t Chanyeol the one calling him with bad news, saying you stood up on the blind date at the last possible moment. You wouldn’t do that, would you? “Hello?” He answered his phone still keeping his eyes shut, but they immediately shot open once he heard your voice greet him on the other side of the line. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Where are you? Shouldn’t you be at the date?” He showered you with questions to which you didn’t know what to answer.

“Uuh—“ You hesitated for a long moment, unsure of what to say. “I’m outside of the restaurant, I’ve been for the past 5 minutes. I don’t want to go inside and meet some guy that I don’t know.” He listened to you talk really fast, almost tripping on your words as your tone dripped with nervousness and regret. “I just don’t want to meet a new guy and I’m so sorry to Chanyeol, cause I said I would do this—”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” He tried to help you calm down over the phone, resisting the urge to just stand up from the table and run to meet you outside. “Everything’s gonna be alright, okay? Do you trust me?”

Baekhyun listened to you on the other side of the line as you tried to get through your panicked state, quietly repeating short and reassuring “okays”. You released a deep breath and finally replied to him. “I trust you. Will you come pick me up, please?”

He almost chuckled at the softness of your voice, instead a warm smile returned on his face as he told you what to do. “I will, but first I need you to walk into the restaurant, it’s cold outside and you’re wearing a dress.” You agreed to do it and his eyes quickly moved towards the door, as he was sat on the opposite side of the restaurant.

Baekhyun watched as the door opened and you stepped inside, brows furrowed with worry yet you still managed to look effortlessly beautiful; long black coat shielding your body from the cold of the last weeks of autumn. He could see the dark blue of your knee length dress peeking under the coat, a small purse swaying by your side from a long chain on your left shoulder as you glanced around and were greeted by a waiter. “I’m in.” You mumbled as your eyes looked frantically around.

“Look to your right, other side of the room.” And you did, you looked towards him and nearly dropped your phone, your jaw went numb for a moment as your lips parted in disbelief. One of the waiters helped you remove your coat and accompanied you towards Baekhyun, to your table. “You’re beautiful,” the words rolled off his tongue almost like a foreign sound, he couldn’t believe that you two were actually on a date, even if he had to keep it a secret for such a long time.

You were at a loss for words, yet your chest was flooded with immense happiness. “The girl you like a lot…” You began saying and he nodded before you could finish your sentence. “A very nice guy, a bit talkative and playful,” you giggled as you quoted Chanyeol’s words when he spoke about the friend he wanted you to meet.

“Yep, that would be me.” Baekhyun picked up the flowers and slowly stepped closer to you. “I know they’re not daffodils, but I hope you like chrysanthemums too.”

“You know what I like more than flowers?” You stepped even closer to him until you could feel his hot breath on your skin, completely forgetting the rest of the world as you felt a rush of bravery while gazing into his eyes. “You.”

When Baekhyun leaned forward to steal a kiss it felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if he had done it so many times before and you were out tonight celebrating an anniversary rather than a first date. The gentlest of touches left a lingering sensation of his lips on yours. The red of your lipstick transferred slightly on his lips and if you focused hard enough, you could see that his cheeks turned the same shade out of shyness and adoration.

“Hmm, what do you think?” You asked, tilting your head to the side while staring very hard at the Christmas tree.

You were currently in your new apartment with Baekhyun standing by your side, eyes focused ahead of you. “It’s crooked on one side.” The living room was bare of furniture except for a coffee table, the tv stand with the television on top of it and the Christmas tree you spent at least three hours on decorating with your boyfriend. Moving boxes were scattered all around the place.

“I think if we spin it around towards the corner of the room none of the guests will notice.” You suggested and Baekhyun hoped quickly towards the tree, being careful to avoid any boxes and discarded ornaments still lying on the floor. He crouched on his kneed and wrapped his fingers around the base of the fake pine tree, rotating the crooked side towards the corner of the room.

“What about now?” He asked as he looked up at the tree for a moment and back at you.

“Light it up.” Baekhyun took the end of a cable beneath the branches of the tree and struggled to plug it into the wall for a moment, making you giggle, but as soon as the tree was lit up, he stood up and walked back to stand by you. “Now it’s perfect!” You beamed while he wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to kiss your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Baekhyun whispered in your ear, your smile became bigger and brighter when you looked into his loving eyes.

You pecked his lips with a soft kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas to you too, Baek—”

You didn’t even have time to finish saying his name because all of a sudden he snaked his arms around your waist, making you screech in surprise when he tried to lift you up from the floor and yelled at the top of his lungs: “To the bedroom, now!”

Loud giggles escaped you as you struggled to stay serious, but it was impossible when he was in a playful mood like this. “But we don’t have a bed frame yet—“

“We have a mattress and that’s enough for me!”

[elizabeethan]

Try Something New, Darling

Part 3/6 of my season 3 canon divergent series It’s About Bloody Time (AO3) 

Read part 2 (AO3)

Read on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person. She was able to survive on the streets for years as a child and teenager. She was able to support herself after being released from jail at age 18. She sustained a prosperous job as a bail bondsperson. She had a nice apartment in Boston. She broke a damn curse and found her family. So yes, she considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person.

So why has she been acting so stupid?

Emma Swan considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person. She was able to survive on the streets for years as a child and teenager. She was able to support herself after being released from jail at age 18. She sustained a prosperous job as a bail bondsperson. She had a nice apartment in Boston. She broke a damn curse and found her family. So yes, she considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person.

So why has she been acting so stupid?

Early Friday morning after her birthday dinner, when she woke up feeling nauseous again and consequently ended up with her head in the toilet, she did consider going to the doctor. No bout of food poisoning should have lasted this long, and she never had a fever, so it probably wasn’t the flu. But when she opened up the cabinet under the sink to get the mouth wash and saw a box of tampons, it all came crashing down on her at once. The realization that she should have needed to use those very tampons over a week ago. The realization that she still doesn’t need to use them now.

Because guess what? When one takes a week-long trip to a magical realm and forgets to bring one’s birth control with them, one should then avoid having unprotected sex.

Absolutely stupid.

And so here she stands on this bright and sunny Monday morning, in the family planning aisle of the local drug store (please, as if this was planned), hoping to whatever god might be listening that Grumpy doesn’t see her and make one of his famous announcements to the whole town.

(She can picture it now. Terrible news! Terrible news! The Savior got knocked up by Captain Hook!)

Should she have done this sooner? Probably. But she chose instead to spend a week and a half after putting the pieces together hoping that she would miraculously get her period, and all this worrying would have been for naught. Now that her period is very late, she figures it’s probably time to take a test.

She finally opts for a two-pack so that she can remain in denial for a bit longer by taking the test again, then grabs a third just to be safe. False positives are a thing, right? Once she’s been rung out, as awkwardly as possible, she exits the store and shoves the box into the large bag she brought with her before she makes her way to Granny’s. If she’s going to pee on a stick three times in a row, she’ll need some fluids. And if she’s about to find out that she’s been knocked up, she’s going to need some comfort in the form of hot chocolate.

“Hey Emma!” Ruby calls from the kitchen when she arrives, hurrying out to meet her.

“Hi Rubes,” she responds, trying her hardest to plaster on a smile. She’s been chewing on her bottom lip so much lately that she thinks it cracks.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Please.”

“Want me to bring it over to Lover-Boy’s table?” she asks with a smirk, and Emma freezes before turning around in the direction Ruby was facing and sees Hook, dressed still in his modern wardrobe and sitting alone at a table nursing a coffee.

Shit. Not ready. Back up. Abort mission.

Of course, Ruby must have spoken too loudly, because Hook glances up and catches her gaze before shooting her an earth shattering, ovary exploding grin.

The very grin that she’s been evading for over a week now.

Rather than answering Ruby, Emma takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in her throat, then heads over to his table and takes a seat across from him.

“Hi,” she greets shakily.

“Morning love,” he responds, his smile faltering the slightest bit at the tone of her voice, but still successfully killing her from the inside out. “Finally feeling better today?”

Fuck, she thinks. Leave it to him to inadvertently guilt her for avoiding him. Not by accusing her of doing so, but by evidently understanding why she’s been so absent. Now is certainly an opening for her to tell him what’s going on, or what she suspects is going on. (Who is she kidding, though? There’s almost no doubt in her mind that she is currently carrying his child.) “Not that much,” she finally says.

His face falls, brows drawing close together and mouth sporting a perfectly kissable pout. “No? Have you been to the doctor?”

“Not yet.”

“Emma,” he starts seriously as he glances back down at his mug, but whatever he says doesn’t reach her ears. When she looks up, she sees Neal making his way into the diner from the inn and she freezes.

She’s still reeling from last week, and she’s been avoiding him too. The more she looks back on it, the worse she feels. How could she let him do that? She knows that she should’ve been strong enough to shove him away before it became what it did.

It shouldn’t have gotten so out of hand. Does she tell Killian that Neal technically kissed her? It’s not as if it could hardly even be considered a kiss, and it’s not like she kissed him back, but still. Doesn’t he have the right to know?

“Like now, for example,” she finally hears him say.

“Huh?”

“Precisely my point, love, I was just saying that you seem distracted. Emma, something is clearly bothering you. And whatever it is—”

“I’m fine.”

“—whatever it is,” he says more pointedly, “please just know that I’m… I’m here.”

She draws her brows together and finally meets his eyes with hers when Ruby sets her mug of hot chocolate down in front of her with a wink.

“Whatever it is, I’ll support you in any way that I can, however you’ll let me. You can tell me anything.”

Shit.

One glance into his deep blue eyes and she knows that he’s telling the truth.

“Killian…” she starts, sighing, reaching down for her mug and pulling it up to her nose.

While she may have had every intention of talking things through with him, or maybe asking if they can talk in private later, she takes one whiff of her favorite drink and knows that that isn’t going to happen.

Her eyes widen and her face must pale immediately. She feels her whole body start to shake and sweat as bile rises to her throat. She puts the mug down too urgently, sending the hot beverage sloshing over the sides, and stands with such force that the table is shoved towards him before she’s up and running to the lady’s room.

She bursts through the door and doesn’t even have the sense to lock it— in fact she’s lucky that it was unoccupied— before she’s over the toilet and heaving into it, despite her stomach being empty. She knows she should be trying to eat something in the morning, but she can’t stomach anything, and it doesn’t seem to make any sense anyway when she’s heaving up anything and everything less than an hour later.

Once she finally finishes evicting everything she’s ever eaten, she sits back against the wall and closes her eyes, taking in a few breaths before she opens them and reaches for some toilet paper to wipe her mouth and nose. It’s only once she starts blowing her nose that she notices Killian standing to her left behind the closed door.

“Fuck!” she jumps, accidentally blowing her nose with so much force that she can feel it in her eyes.

“Emma, what the bloody hell is going on?”

She slowly and unsteadily stands up and tosses the soiled tissue into the toilet before she quickly moves to flush it in hopes that he didn’t see its contents, then says, “I told you I’m fine.”

“But you’re clearly not fine, love. You’ve been avoiding me. And you couldn’t even smell your hot chocolate without being violently sick.”

“Please don’t say the word chocolate right now.”

“And it looks like the hot chocolate might’ve burned your hand.”

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

“I’ll go to the doctor,” she concedes as her stomach jumps. “I will. I just… I have to do something first.”

She’s never seen him look so worried and defeated. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, you’ve done enough,” she says snidely and then regrets it, knowing that it’s unfair of her to blame him. Afterall, she did tell him that she was taking a magical pill that would make it near impossible for him to impregnate her.

Turns out it only works like magic if she uses it. Curse her evidently insanely fertile self.

He sighs, “let me at least get you some water, love?”

She sighs, too, and a sea of familiar guilt washes over her. Finally, she quietly responds, “that would be nice, thank you.”

She knows that she needs to go to work soon anyway, so when he comes back, she chugs the water and hopes that it’ll go through her by the time she gets to the station.

~~~~

Emma Swan is pregnant. By accident. Again.

At least she’s on the other side of the cell this time around.

She took all three tests, and all three read positive; two produced that second pink line and one clearly read the word pregnant before the two-minute timers she set on her phone even went off. She doesn’t want to leave them in the trash can at the station for fear that someone may somehow find them, so they're sitting in her desk drawer. With her head laying on her crossed arms, she stares so hard that she practically burns a hole through the top of her desk above the drawer that contains them. So far today, she’s gotten exactly no work done.

“Make any headway on that paperwork?” her father asks ironically as he enters the office. She had asked if he could take on patrol so that she could get caught up.

“Kind of,” she answers quietly, fearful that her voice could give out at any second.

“Hey,” he starts, taking a seat at his desk across the room from her. “I wanted to talk to you about… about last Thursday.”

“What about last Thursday?” she asks, sitting up slightly and finally peeling her eyes away from the drawer of secrets.

“I wanted to… apologize. For the way I acted at your dinner. About… about Hook.”

She raises a brow in surprise, pursing her lips and nodding her head lightly. She supposes that this day actually canengender more surprises. “Wow,” she says simply.

“I know I may not be his biggest fan, but Snow and I talked, and we realized that it must be pretty helpful for you to have someone you consider to be a friend right now.”

She nods softly, considering this. “Yeah, it is.”

“I guess you can’t be sharing everything with Neal, huh?” he asks in jest. She draws her brows in now, confusion likely written all over her face. “Just a joke,” he chuckles. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell our significant others everything.”

Woah. She physically backs herself away from him. “Neal? Neal isn’t my boyfriend,” she’s cut off by the ringing phone, which David almost immediately answers, humming and nodding at the person on the other end.

“Another moose in the road,” he eventually says. “You wanna take this one?”

She huffs violently at her inability to fully correct her father but nods, needing to get out of the office and into the fresh air. She can also take the opportunity to go home and get some crackers. She gets up quickly and grabs her huge bag, opening the accursed drawer and using her own body to shield the image of her shoving in the positive tests from her father’s view.

~~~~

The moose found his way home without her help, so she heads back to the loft sooner than expected and finds Mary Margaret occupying it.

“Hi honey,” she says with a sweet smile from the kitchen.

Emma drops her uncharacteristically massive bag on a table by the door before calling back, “hi.”

“Want something to eat?” Emma nods and makes to turn around before her foot kicks into the leg of the table and sends her bag, along with its contents, flying to the floor.

All of its contents. Wallet, phone, keys, and three positive pregnancy tests.

“Whoops! Let me help you get—”

“No!”

She hears Mary Margaret gasp loudly before she shuts her eyes and shoves her hands over her face. She’s suddenly feeling nauseous due to anxiety rather than pregnancy, and she almost laughs at the irony.

“Emma, are you—” she doesn’t finish her thought. She doesn’t need to, because when Emma peeks out from behind her fingers, she sees Mary Margaret holding a test in her hand. The one that spells out the word pregnant, clear as day. “Oh, honey.”

Normally, if she wasn’t full of raging hormones, she would have handled the situation with grace and perhaps a bit of sarcasm. But alas, these are not normal times and she is, in fact, full of raging hormones. So, what does she do? Why, the only thing she seems capable of lately, aside from vomiting a peeing frequently. She starts to cry.

Of course.

She doesn’t move her hands away from her face because she immediately begins to feel the clenching around her heart, her throat practically closing and her eyes burning. Tears begin to fall immediately and she chokes out a sob.

Her mother’s disappointment was clear in her voice, and Emma can’t even think about what she’s doing before she sinks down to the floor, pathetically holding her middle.

“Emma!” she exclaims with a soft chuckle, suddenly in front of her and holding onto her elbows. “Emma, up off the floor! It’s alright, you don’t have to cry!” Emma can’t bear to hear what she has to say, because she knows that she’s being judged for getting pregnant by a man her parents hate.

“I—” she starts, but can’t finish, another sob wracking her body.

“Emma, it’s okay, this is a blessing! You two are going to make fabulous parents together. And Henry will be a big brother!”

“You think—” she chokes, “you think so?” She can’t imagine this to be true. Since when did Mary Margaret start to approve of Killian? Emma supposes she hasn’t been as discreet as she had hoped with all of her sneaking out, because apparently Mary Margaret knew all along.

“Oh sweetheart, I know so!” Emma nods, sniffling and wiping tears off of her cheeks. “Was it… planned?”

“Hell no,” Emma scoffs with a roll to her eyes. “None of this was. It all just sort of… happened.”

“When did it… start happening?”

“On the way back from Neverland,” Emma says softly, pathetically. Mary Margaret nods, a sneaky smile crossing her face.

“Well I just know that you two—” before she has a chance to finish, there’s a crash and a scream outside and she’s cut off.

“Ugh,” Emma exclaims, blowing her nose with a tissue that Mary Margaret had reached for. “I should check on that.”

“Just,” Mary Margaret starts, a worried look playing at her features. “I know you're the sheriff but please be careful. I’m assuming you haven’t been to the doctor yet?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you're right. I’ll be careful.”

“And take some crackers, they’ll help settle your stomach.”

~~~~

She freezes when she steps outside. And then she laughs at her own little joke, because she’s standing on a narrow sheet of ice that leads in a trail down the street— in the first week of November. And while Maine is pretty cold, she doesn’t think it’s that cold.

She follows the trail down Main Street, sleeve of Saltines in hand, and thinks that it’s leading to the edge of town when she feels the earth tremble. When she looks out by the harbor, she notices a thick white wall rising erratically from the sea. So much for no emergencies in Storybrooke.

“Swan!” she hears, and she turns to see Hook running out of Granny’s towards. “Swan, you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, turning to the harbor again. “Not sure what’s going on, but I’m assuming something’s happening around the town line.”

“Are you heading out there now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me go with you?” he asks desperately.

“Killian…”

“Please Swan,” he starts, his eyes doing that thing again where he looks sadder than anyone she’s ever seen. “I just saw your father heading towards the Queen’s office. You need backup, let me help you.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s also fighting off a smile. “You aren’t even on the force.”

“Make me an honorary deputy, then,” he says with a flirty smile.

“Stop watching westerns. How do you even have access to TV?” He shrugs and she rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s go,” she responds in haste, turning back towards her Bug.

They spent the ride relatively quiet, and she’s glad that he doesn’t ask her again how she’s been feeling, but she knows she probably should’ve taken the opportunity to tell him what’s been going on. Then again, maybe driving into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation isn’t the best time to tell someone that they're about to be a father.

By the time they reach the town line, she can see the white wall standing tall and preventing anyone from leaving.

“What the hell?” she wonders out loud as she steps out of the car.

“My thoughts exactly, love.”

They walk around for a few minutes, taking in the scene and pretending they know what they're doing. The wall is at least 30 feet high and, while she has no idea how thick it could be, she knows it would likely be foolish to try and get through it.

Kicking a fallen piece of ice, she sighs. “I don’t know.” She tucks her hands into the pockets of her brown leather jacket and pulls it closed over her belly. It’s freezing over here by the wall of ice.

“Aye, love. Very mysterious.” Before she knows it, he’s next to her and looking up, squinting so she can just see a sliver of blue. “Guess I should’ve brought some champagne.”

She chokes on her own breath before looking up at him. “What?”

He smirks. “We have the world’s largest ice bucket here. And I was planning on asking you something.”

She freezes, turning to him and facing him head on. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you,” he starts, stepping closer to her and reaching his hand up to her face and brushing a piece of hair away. “If you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner.”

Wouldn’t it be ironic if she began vomiting right now?

She doesn’t. Although she does feel her heartbeat quicken and her body suddenly feels hot, especially in her stomach.

“Killian,” she says hesitantly.

“I know, I know.” He reaches down towards her collarbone and gently touches the chain around her neck, pulling the dangling diamonds out from beneath her shirt and smiling. “But I don’t think much needs to change between us, darling.” Boy, does he have another thing coming, she thinks. “And I know things are complicated with your family, but you did say that you would consider it, so maybe I just hoped to remind you to. I know what I want, love; I want you. I just hope I’ve made that clear and that you might feel the same way for me.”

And really, it’s not like she could’ve had any other response. He’s made a perfectly worded, perfectly timed speech, so of course her pregnant self starts crying.

“Oh, no love, please don’t cry. It’s alright,” he starts, wiping a tear away as his face falls. “If you—if you don’t want that with me, it's alright.” She thinks she hears his voice catching in the back of his throat and starts crying a bit harder, a sob escaping her lips. “If that’s why you’ve been distant…”

“No, Killian, it’s not that, I just… I do. I want that.”

“Aye?”

“Yeah,” she responds, and she sees his eyes lighting up. “It’s just that… well, there are things that… something happened, Killian, and I don’t know if you’ll feel the same way when you find out that—”

“Emma!”

No.

“Emma? Emma! What the hell?” Neal is shouting as he parks Mary Margaret’s station wagon and gets out. Wait, Mary Margaret’s station wagon?

“Neal?”

“Everyone, remain still!”

Everyone turns to the source of the new voice and jumps. Out of nowhere, a beautiful tall woman with a long blonde braid and an icy blue dress emerges from the ice wall.

Her presence certainly wasn’t very commanding, but she appears to be the one who put up the massive wall of ice around the entire town, based on the trail following her, so Emma figures it’s probably a good idea to listen to her.

“Hello,” Emma says cautiously with a sniffle, backing away slightly and closer to Killian.

“Emma, we need to talk.”

“Neal, does this look like a good time to you?” she snaps.

“Your mom told me.”

She falters, freezing in place again, and it really can’t be good for her body (or for the baby?) for her heart to be stopping and starting like this.

“What?”

“Everyone needs to halt immediately!”

“Emma, love,” Killian starts, and she turns to him with desperation in her eyes.

“She told me congratulations on the baby. Emma, what the hell is she talking about? If we did anything on your birthday, I was really drunk. You need to tell me if anything happened—”

“Baby?!”

“Neal!”

“Stop!”

Before she knows it, the ground is shaking again, and while she initially started to take a step towards Neal, possibly to beat him up, she’s now spun around. She’s heading towards the unpredictably enigmatic woman with her hands up as the terrain continues to shake. “It’s alright.”

“Stay back! Everyone be quiet! I need to find my sister!”

“Okay,” Emma says, taking another step. “We’ll help you.”

“Emma, come back, love!”

“It’s okay,” she starts to say again, but the earth is shaking harder and suddenly she’s being knocked to the ground as another wall is upraised around her.

~~~~

Emma doesn’t quite fall unconscious, but she thinks she might have come close. Her ears are ringing and her head is pounding, but she’s finally starting to see things clearly around her. She’s definitely inside some kind of ice cave, and as if that wasn’t apparent enough already, she starts to shiver. A leather jacket with some leggings is certainly not an ideal outfit for this kind of sudden and unexpected weather change.

She pulls the jacket tightly around her belly again, hoping that she can maybe protect the baby from the cold. Looking around, she sees the woman standing a few feet from her, looking somewhere between angry and scared. “Hello,” Emma starts. “What’s your name?”

The woman startles at the sound of her voice and makes eye contact, and Emma is certain that she can see fear in them. “Elsa,” she answers firmly.

“Elsa, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Emma.” The woman nods brusquely before spinning around nervously. “I just found out today that I’m pregnant.” It dawns on her that the first time she utters the words out loud is to a stranger who could very easily kill her.

Elsa turns back towards Emma, the anger and resolve in her face evaporating completely. “You did?”

“Yes. But the father doesn’t know. Or, I guess he kind of just found out. But I’d really like the opportunity to tell him myself.”

She nods again, her hands ringing together. She’s clearly scared and nervous, and whatever she built the ice wall for was just an act to show them that she’s powerful. “The man in the dark clothes?”

Emma smiles at her and nods, though she’s starting to shiver harder. “That’s the one.”

“Well then what was the other man doing? He seemed angry.”

Emma sighs and rolls her eyes but lets out a chuckle. “He is. He and I were together 12 years ago, and he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s over.”

Elsa rolls her eyes as well. “Most men don’t seem to understand much.” Emma lets out a snort and nods in agreement as her teeth begin to chatter. “My sister was supposed to be getting married. Her betrothed and your husband seem very similar in their nobility.”

“Oh,” Emma says in surprise. “Hook isn’t my husband.”

“Oh, sorry. Well, either way, he clearly loves you.”

Rather than answer her, Emma shoves the thought as deep as she can and chuckles nervously, changing the subject completely. “You said you were looking for your sister?”

“Yes.” The tenacity is back.

“Well, I’m the sheriff here. That means I have resources that can help you. I just need to get out of here first. It seems like you may have trapped us in here by accident, but do you think you can let us out?”

She stills and appears to think Emma’s offer over. “You can really help me find Anna?”

“I’ll do whatever I can.” She certainly can’t guarantee anything, but she’s starting to like this Elsa, in a weird, possibly Stockholm Syndrome type of way.

“Alright, stand back.”

When Emma focuses back on the wall, she can hear shouting. She can only imagine what a mess Neal must have made by now.

Elsa seems to focus too, and there’s suddenly a loud buzzing hum and a forceful light coming from her hands as she points them towards the wall. A hole big enough for Emma to crawl through forms quickly, and she can hear the shouting grow louder.

“Emma!” she hears Killian call, and she walks towards the hole and crouches down before starting to crawl to the other side. He’s crouching too, and once she reaches the outside, she takes his hand and falls into his hold. He breathes out a sigh of relief, as does she, and helps her into a standing position and holds her body tightly to his. She feels warmer already.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks into her neck, and she closes her eyes and reaches her hand up to his hair and nods. “I was so worried.”

“I’m alright,” she says back quietly, taking time to steady her breathing and warm up against his body heat.

He notes that she’s still shivering— she’s surprised that her teeth haven’t cracked from the force of their chattering— so he steps away from her slightly and he removes his own jacket and places it around her shoulders, rubbing up and down her left arm. His eyes meet hers intently and she smiles.

“It would seem—”

“Emma, you okay?”

She groans. Looking past Killian, Emma sees Neal looking both furious and worried at the same time. Killian’s hand slides from her arm, but she catches it in hers before he can remove it from her.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna go to the doctor.”

“Let me take you,” Neal says in a commanding tone.

“No, Killian’s taking me.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“But Emma, you and I need to talk.”

“You're right, Neal, we do. I’ll start. I really don’t appreciate you coming over here and screaming about things that have nothing to do with you. Nothing happened on my birthday, unless you count the fact that you basically assaulted me. And even if anything did happen, that was a week ago. Do you even know how reproduction works?” His face is priceless, and she feels a sense of relief wash over her as she finally stands up for herself. “I can’t believe that you came out here and announced my pregnancy before I had a chance to,” she mutters. She feels Killian’s hand tighten around hers for a second before he lets it fall, and when she turns to him, his face is blank. “Killian, I’d like it if you and I could talk in private,” she says to him more softly. “Neal, don’t talk to my mom about this.”

~~~~

The car is completely silent for a few minutes once Emma starts driving. She fights the urge to glance over at Killian several times before she finally gives in, and she immediately wishes she hadn’t. In the second she’s able to look at him, she’s met with his anger and frustration that she knows must be rooted in the regret he feels. She knows this must be difficult for him to process, and now she’s dragging him along with her to see a doctor. She doesn’t even know if he’ll want to be in this baby’s life, so she’s realizing that it’s selfish of her to force him along.

The truth is, she never really thought of her other options. She knows that, realistically, she doesn’t have to have this baby. But the thought to abort or abandon it never crossed her mind. She can’t do to this baby what she did to Henry.

Killian doesn’t have to worry about that, thought.

“Killian—” she starts, but it’s as if the sound of her voice elicits something in him.

“What did he do to you?” he asks. His voice is so low and dark that it makes her feel nervous.

“What?” She looks over again and sees that he’s staring straight ahead at the changing leaves.  

“On your birthday. You said he assaulted you.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, her feelings of compunction growing stronger in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not really a big deal, I was being dramatic. He was drunk. He grabbed me and then he knocked us over onto his bed and tried to kiss me. But it was only a second, Killian. I didn’t do anything with him, I swear.” He’s quiet for a second, and it’s the longest second of her life.

“Fuck, Emma, what the hell?” He’s looking at her now, and in the brief second that she glances at him, she sees fire in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. But nothing happened, I promise. He just tried to kiss me for a second and I pushed him away.” Her palms are sweating on the steering wheel and her heart is hammering in her chest, her stomach twisted and her head pounding.

“I’m not mad at you, love. He attacked you! How are you so equable over this?”

“It’s like I said, nothing happened. I pushed him, probably bruised a kidney, and I got the hell out of there. I didn’t do anything with him.”

“I don’t care about that, Emma. I’m not mad because I think you did something with him. I can’t believe that you were put in a position where you had to defend yourself like that! And against him!”

“What do you mean?” she asks hesitantly as she pulls into the lot of the hospital and parks her car.

“I mean… I mean he’s the father of your child and he’s behaving in such a predatory way towards you that you felt that you needed to bruise his kidney and flee.” She’s silent. She knows now that he’s angrier with Neal than he is with her, but he sounds so livid that it sort of feels like she’s being scolded.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says quietly, because she honestly doesn’t know what else to say to placate him.

“Please don’t say that, love,” he asks, more like begs, as he finally turns away from the scene ahead of him and looks at her. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you need to apologize. You don’t, darling, truly.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “But do you know… fuck. Do you know how many thoughts ran through my head in the ten minutes that you were in that cave?” She knows that he’s asking hypothetically, but she shakes her head anyway. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

“That can’t be true,” she scoffs. He’s been alive for centuries; she knows he must have felt scared before.

“Of course it is, Emma.” He turns away, his face hardened and his brows drawn together. “Within a span of thirty seconds I find out that you're pregnant and that it might be Neal’s, then you disappear into an ice cave and I have no way to get to you.”

“It’s not,” she starts immediately, stunned by his statement. “It’s not Neal’s.”

He turns again, and she realizes now that she hasn’t actually said the words to him. She hasn’t really had much of a chance to say them out loud at all.

“Emma,” he says, his tone begging again, and it causes her heart to clench so hard that her fingers start to tingle.

“I’m pregnant.” His face nearly crumbles, his brows drawing close together while somehow still looking more worried than she’s ever seen him. “You’re the only person I’ve been with—I mean, you're the only person I want to be with. The baby… it’s… you're the father, Killian.”

He doesn’t say anything, and she thinks she may have done the impossible and stunned Killian Jones into silence. He reaches across himself and picks up her left hand in his right and draws it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to it firmly and keeping them there. She can feel his breath coming out quickly and forcefully, as if he has to remind himself to breathe, and it feels like he’s seconds away from breaking down.

“I realize that this is a lot to take in, and we’ve never had a conversation about whether you're even staying in Storybrooke.” She has to push the words out of her mouth, knowing that they need to be said. “But, if you don’t want to be in his life, then I’m giving you an out.”

“What?” he chokes out. She didn’t think she could watch his face fall any further.

“If you want out, just say the words. I know this wasn’t the plan for us.” He scoffs and her heart drops to her stomach, but she holds herself together in preparation for his words.

“If you think I’m going anywhere without you and this baby, then you are absolutely mad.”

“Really?” she asks tentatively, looking up from their hands to meet his eyes.

“Aye,” he breathes out. “I’m sorry, love, if I’ve ever given you the impression that I would abandon you like that. I was planning on staying here as long as you would have me anyway, before all of this.”

“You were?”

He smiles at her, the kind of smile that she sees in her dreams, and nods. “Did you say his?”

She smiles a bit, too, and nods back. “I don’t know the sex yet, it’s too early. But I’ve always seen myself as a boy mom.” He breathes out a laugh now.

“Mom,” he repeats, squeezing her hand and kissing it softly.

“Dad,” she teases back, and she smiles because now she’s affording herself the privilege of imagining him with a little bundle in his arms.

“You were in that frozen cave for a bit. We should get you checked, aye, love?”

“Aye,” she responds, and he chuckles and kisses her hand again.

~~~~

When they're finally called in, after mountains of paperwork and questions and what feels like hours of waiting, Emma lies down on the exam table while Killian sits stiffly on the chair near her head.

“Bet this isn’t where you thought you’d end up when you woke up this morning,” she jokes, and he lets out a huff in response.

“Certainly not, Swan. You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” she hums, patting her belly lightly. He glances down at her hand covering her belly and she wonders if this is all becoming too real for him, because it certainly is for her. She tries to force away the lingering thoughts that he could still leave them, knowing that the thoughts are born from her own experiences and are not based on his actions so far.

The technician comes in a few moments later and gets Emma ready for her ultrasound. She explains that it’s probably a bit early for an abdominal sonogram, and Killian’s eyes bug out of his head when she prepares for the transvaginal scan. Emma lets out a snort and takes his hand in hers without asking. He squeezes back.

After a few moments of searching and measuring, the technician finally settles in one spot and gestures towards the screen at the black and white mess. She presses a few buttons and takes a few more measurements, then says, “there’s your baby!”

Killian turns immediately, staring over to the screen with a pensive look on his face. The technician points out the head, making mention of the crown rump length and how it indicates that she’s measuring at just under 7 weeks.

All Emma can see is a gray blob within another black blob, that lives inside another gray blob. She’s never felt such an emotional connection to a blob, and she notes how differently she feels this time around.

When she hears the heartbeat, a quick and hardy whoosh taking over the quiet room, she nearly loses it.

Her eyes are stinging when she looks at their baby on the screen and hears the powerful heartbeat, but she starts crying when she glances over at Killian and sees that he has tears running down his own cheeks.

“Your baby is about the size of a blueberry,” the technician says, holding up two fingers to demonstrate just how tiny the blob is. Emma nods, wiping a tear away, then looks back to Killian and squeezes his hand again.

He lets out a tear-sodden laugh and squeezes back, then reaches their hands up so he can wipe tears away. “I can’t believe how much that little bugger has aged me already.”

Emma laughs now too, using her free hand to wipe her own cheeks, and the technician smiles up at them. She prints a few pictures off and tells them that everything looks good, and that the doctor will be in to talk to them shortly.

When Emma’s new obstetrician, Dr. Morgan, enters the room, she greets them happily and congratulates them on their good news. She explains that the baby appears healthy despite Emma’s earlier misadventures and her taking birth control before she found out, and gives them a due date— June 16th, a summer baby.

They’re walking hand in hand out to the car, and they’re both wearing the biggest, goofiest smiles that they can muster. By the time they get back to the car, though, she starts to feel like she’s returning to real life.

“I know that this is a lot,” she starts as he takes her hand again, “and the baby was certainly a surprise, but he’s not a mistake. I haven’t known for very long and I was feeling really dreadful, but now that I’ve seen him… I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

“Aye,” he breathes again. “I understand what you mean. As soon as Baelfire said baby, I felt like my life changed all at once. I didn’t even know if it was mine or his, but I didn’t care. And now that I know, I realize that I’ve never felt… I just… I love him. Or her. It seems completely mad, but I love him.”

She nearly cries again at the sound of his voice choking and at his own words, but she nods instead, understanding completely how instantly he must have fallen in love with the tiny embryo she’s growing because that’s exactly what happened to her. “It isn’t mad.”

He moves her hand up to his forehead and leans against it for a moment, as if taking space to process things for himself, before he lifts his head and meets her eyes with his.

“Killian,” she says once she has her hand back and is able to start the engine.

“Aye, darling?”

“My mom…” Killian stares up at her expectantly, and he clearly has no idea what she’s talking about as she’s changed the subject. “She thinks it’s Neal’s. I think she might know that I’ve been sneaking out at night, but she must think I’ve been going to see him.”

“I see,” he starts, nodding his head pensively and pinching his bottom lip between two fingers in a way that drives her mad. “What shall we do?”

She hums, considering this. “I think I’m gonna go talk to her. And I think you might need to do some planning.”

“Planning for what love? Surely, we have enough time before the blueberry arrives,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Not for that,” she responds with a grin. “For dinner. That is, if you still want to go to dinner?”

His face splits into another grin so bright and vivid that she feels her stomach clench, his eyes squinting and his pearly teeth shining in the sunlight. “The day I answer no to that question is the day I’ve lost my mind.”

She hums out a small laugh and says, “good. And don’t change. I forgot to tell you how much I like your new look.”

~~~~

Arriving at home after dropping Killian off at the docks feels strange. She sits in her car for a few minutes in an attempt to ready herself for confrontation until she has to pee so badly that she needs to go upstairs.

“Emma, hi,” Mary Margaret starts once she emerges from the bathroom.

“Hi,” she says back.

“Neal… well he stopped by and told me that you went to the doctor.” Apparently, she doesn’t need to dance around this.

“Did he?” Mary Margaret nods, and Emma can tell by the look on her face that she has more to say but she’s holding back. “Did he say anything else?”

“He told me I should talk to you. He seemed… angry. Emma, if you told him and he reacted badly—”

“Neal isn’t the father.”

It would appear, based on her facial expression, that Mary Margaret was expecting to hear absolutely anything else come out of Emma’s mouth. She actually stands before Emma with her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugging out as if this was the most phenomenal news she’s ever heard in her life.

Which can’t conceivably be true. She’s literally Snow White. She was cursed by the Evil Queen and didn’t age for 28 years. She sent her minutes-old infant through a portal using a magic tree. This cannot possibly be that surprising.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She’s still standing there like a trout with her mouth hanging open before she must realize what she’s doing and snaps it shut. Emma follows her with her eyes as she moves towards the kitchen and pulls out another sleeve of Saltines, apparently the only thing she can eat this week, before sitting at the counter, waiting for her mother to break herself out of her shock.

“I thought… Emma, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything to Neal. I thought he was…”

“I should’ve been clearer. Although I thought that I have been clear for the last few weeks that I'm not interested in him and that we aren’t together.”

“No, Emma, I overstepped. I shouldn’t have gone to him about it at all. When he came here and I said congratulations to him, I knew right away that it was a mistake because I could tell that you hadn’t told him. Now… well, now I know why.”

“He came here?”

“He came looking for you. I assumed it was about the crash we heard.”

Emma nods in understanding. Mary Margaret has pulled herself together a bit and takes a seat in the stool next to Emma. “So, when he started freaking out, you let him borrow your car to come see me.”

“Right.” She nods again. “I’m so sorry, honey. I never should have said anything. I was just so excited for you, and when I thought that Henry was going to have a little brother or sister—”

“Henry is going to have a little brother or sister. Just because they don’t have the same dad doesn’t make that any less true.”

“You're right,” her mother sighs. “Of course, you're right. I’m sorry, this is all just a lot of information for one day.”

“For me, too,” Emma agrees. Then she reaches into her pocket and smiles when she feels the glossy paper, pulling out the sonogram pictures. “Wanna see him?”

“Him?” she questions, taking the photo and grinning. She reaches one hand up and places a gentle finger over her blueberry sized blob.

“I don’t know yet, that’s just what we’ve been saying,” Emma says with a grin, looking down at the new picture her mother flips to.

“Wait,” Mary Margaret says, resting the photos on the counter and looking up to meet Emma’s eyes with her matching ones. “If Neal isn’t the father, who is?”

It’s Emma’s turn to drop her jaw in shock, surprised that her mother isn’t able to put the pieces together. “Seriously? It’s Killian.”

“Ki—Hook?!”

“Yeah, Hook. And if you say anything negative about the father of my child—”

“No, no, that’s… I mean… it certainly is a shock… but…”

Emma rolls her eyes now, shoving another cracker into her mouth before getting up for some water. “Is it though? I know we haven’t been that secretive. I’ve been out, like, three nights a week.”

“I know,” she says, confirming Emma’s suspicions that she’s known all along. “I just thought you were going to Granny’s. I didn’t realize you were going to the pier instead. But are you… are you sure about him?”

Emma sits again as she considers her answer to this question carefully. A big part of her is telling her that it hasn’t been long enough to know. However, while she wouldn’t admit it out loud, and while she’s anxious to even admit it to herself, a much smaller part of her knows that yes, she is sure about him. Seeing his reaction to seeing their baby for the first time, to hearing the strong heartbeat, solidified that knowledge into her brain. So she looks over to her mother and smiles, nodding confidently.

Their conversation comes to a halt when David arrives at home, towing Elsa behind him. Emma’s somewhat surprised to see her, but assumes that she and David got to talking and he decided to take her in.

He greets his wife and daughter with kisses to their heads, then turns to Emma with a look that she’s grown all too familiar with: concern.

“Neal dropped Elsa off at the station and she told me all about her sister. She also told me that you two went to the doctor because you got trapped in an… ice cave? Are you alright?”

“Oh, no David, Neal wasn’t the one she went to the doctor with. It was her—”

“Dad,” Emma jumps in immediately, fearful that Elsa may say something that Emma would regret. “I’m fine. I went to the doctor and everything is fine.”

“Did you figure out why you’ve been so sick lately? Weird that none of us has caught it yet, isn’t it?”

“Not as weird as you may think,” Mary Margaret says to him with a smirk shot Emma’s way. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Emma takes the sonogram pictures back from her mother and walks over to the couch, sitting down next to David as Elsa introduces herself to Mary Margaret and heads into the kitchen area with her. When Emma produces the photos and hands them to her father, she can see the shock in his eyes as they immediately glass over and a tear runs down his cheek.

“Really?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion. Emma nods at him, a smile gracing her features as a fresh set of tears make their way into her eyes as well. He lets out a deep breath, running a finger along the blob in the photo the same way her mother did.

“I’m seven weeks along.” He lets out another breath, this one coalescing itself with a chuckle.

He finally looks up and meets her eyes before he says, “Congratulations, Emma.”

“Thank you,” she says back, wiping her cheeks.

“You and Hook must be very happy.” Her face drops in shock, her brows coming together and her mouth snapping shut before she cocks her head to one side. “I started to put the pieces together a bit ago, but this morning when I saw your face light up when I mentioned him, and then when you practically jumped down my throat for calling Neal your significant other, I figured it out. Wasn’t expecting that you two would be… well, expecting, though.”

It’s Emma’s turn to let out a hearty chuckle followed immediately by a sniffle. “How come you figured it out and mom couldn’t?”

“I guess sometimes your dad just knows best,” he responds, grinning at her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug which she returns fervently.

~~~~

The week that passes sees Emma more nauseous and exhausted than she’s ever been. She remembers being pregnant with Henry quite well, and she never experienced symptoms this strongly, but she supposes that’s because her body was 12 years younger.

Her date with Killian went beautifully. He took her to a nice Italian restaurant, stating that he wasn’t sure what she could stomach, but he knew she could handle the bread. She was just happy that it was something other than Granny’s.

After dinner, Emma asked him to take her back to the Jolly Roger, citing that she can’t get the image of his ass in his tight black jeans out of her head and it’s driving her mad with lust. He chokes on his last sip of water and flags the server down immediately.

On their walk back to the pier, with her bundled in her winter parka and Killian comfortably sporting his modern leather jacket, she could feel the nerves that were radiating off of him and wondered how her pregnancy might change their sex life. They were very active before she found out, after all. She realizes, though, that it’s already made adjustments here and there in that she spent a week avoiding him, during which she was far too nauseous to even consider any vigorous physical activity.

On this night, she felt confident enough in her ability to keep down her bland dinner of penne with butter and dinner rolls, but when they finally arrived on his ship and he nervously helped her down the stairs and onto his bunk, she was asleep before he even had a chance to light a few candles.

She hasn’t heard from Neal, but Henry has been to Granny’s for dinner with him. He’s asked her to come along, and it nearly crushes her to tell her son that she isn’t coming each time, but she can’t stomach the thought of being in the same room as his father. She’s hoping that someday soon she can get past her resentment towards him, but for now, she needs to take space away from him so that she can move on.

She still hasn’t told her parents about what happened all those years ago. She knows that both of them, particularly her mother, are struggling to see the logic behind her choosing Hook over Neal, but she hasn’t found the time or desire to fill them in. And although her mother says she’s fine with the concept of Killian fathering her child, she can tell by the way she looks at and talks to her that she feels uneasy.

So here she finds herself, on a Friday evening laying in her bed at the top of the loft after a long nap— a follow up to a violent vomiting spell— listening in on her parents’ not-so-discreet conversation.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” she hears her father say from the kitchen. “Although I was expecting the worst. I almost thought she was going to be on her own.”

“He still has plenty of time to leave her on her own, David,” her mother deadpans in response.

“I know, but I don’t honestly see that happening. And if it does, she’ll have us, and I’ll have another excuse to punch him in the face.” Emma finds herself smiling softly at her father’s words, whereas last week they may have drawn her from bed and straight down the stairs to give him a piece of her mind. But she knows now that he’s right.

Killian hasn’t given her any indication that he isn’t all in on this with her, even if things don’t work out between the two of them. He’s taken to reading pregnancy books, and on Tuesday, when she reached 8 weeks of gestation, he happily informed her that their blueberry has grown into a raspberry. She may eventually introduce him to the world of smart phones so that he can download all the tracker apps he wants.

“You're right, you're right. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time with this.”

“She’s our daughter. No one will ever be good enough for her.”

“I know, but I just felt like Neal was enough. He was her first love… I guess I just thought the two of them would work things out eventually. I know he wasn’t there for her, but he didn’t know about Henry. Maybe if he knew, things would’ve turned out differently.”

Emma rolls her eyes but knows that it isn’t fair of her to be angry with her mother for thinking this way when she knows she has no idea about what actually happened with Neal.

“You have to let that go, Snow. You can’t change what’s already happened. And not everyone can be as lucky as we were.”

“I’m just having trouble trusting Hook. Trusting that he has her best interests in mind.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you choose to trust Emma. She’s a tough kid, has been all her life. She knows how to take care of herself. And she seems to trust him.”

“I know, you're right. I do trust her. And if she trusts him…”

Emma thinks about getting up now, but when she tries to move, she feels exhaustion taking over her again. So instead, she makes a mental note to finally talk to her parents before drifting off into another seemingly endless nap.

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones

[buckysforeverprincess]

The Games We Play Ch.2

Dark!Viking James Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Words: 1681

Warnings: Plans of murder

A/N: I’ve decided to turn this into a series. It was only meant to be a one shot but then I began floating ideas in my head, so here we are. Viking James Barnes is an epic asshole and I don’t intend to make him soft at all, so if you’re into that kinda thing keep reading. Also, very special thanks to my ride or die @hotoffthepressfics for putting together this amazing moodboard for this series. I appreciate you so much and thanks for all the love and encouragement! Without further ado... Buckle in folks, were going on a bumpy ride! Enjoy!

James walks through the village and makes his way to his house at the back of the muddy road. He quite enjoys the location of his home, somewhat off the beaten path. It offers a little more privacy from the rest of his clan and given the choice he made to take the princess for his own, the added seclusion helps keep the prying eyes of the villagers away and avoids the scrutiny and mindless chatter of those that condemn what he’d done.

 When it comes to taking the young princess, he regrets nothing. In a perfect world, things would’ve been different. James would’ve lived the life he was promised, and the Princess would learn to love him over time as Princesses normally do, but the world was viciously cruel. Promises were always broken, and Kings were nothing but maniacal, murdering, manipulators who left nothing but death in destruction in their wake. James would never feel bad for the part he played and maybe someday the Princess would realize he saved her from the twisted life she would’ve led at the hands of her beloved King.

 “Hey there handsome.”

 A soft female voice has him slow his steps and grin, his head turning in her direction. “I am, aren’t I?” James replies and moves the few steps towards the woman. “What can I do for you, Wanda?”

 The young, brown haired woman slides up to James, reaching out and running her fingers down his chiseled chest through his cloth shirt. “Since you asked… how about you give me what you promised?”

 Wanda was from the clan to the north, her father their leader. The Vikings were friendly towards each other, trading when necessary, aiding in battle when the other called. James at one point thought his own father was going to make him marry Wanda and solidify both clans' loyalty to one another but that was before. Her village suffered the same fate as his, her father and many of the men viciously killed and slaughtered, so now she was here. Waiting to extract her own revenge on the Princess for her father's misdeeds.

 James chuckles and grabs her wrist, removing her hand from his body. “Wanda… you know I can’t do that yet. I told you, this plan will take time. You have to be patient.” He lets go and her arm drops to her side.

 Wanda scowls and glares, her face red and morphing into anger. “You promised! You promised and I want her dead!”

 Sighing, he shakes his head and reaches out to her waist, grabbing it and pulling her flush against his body, feeling the woman tense up underneath him. “I want her dead too, but in order to get what we want this has to play out over time.”

 Licking her lips, Wanda stands on her toes and leans in, pressing her mouth to his in a fiery kiss. “You promised me we’d rule together… be together…,” she reminds him when she breaks the heated kiss, “you said we’d rule our people together. I don’t want to wait, James… I’ve waited too long.”

 James nods and kisses her forehead, trying his best to soothe the woman in his arms. “I know you have but I shared this plan with you and if it’s going to work, she needs to be alive. I can’t kill her yet… she’s with my child.”

 Wanda swallows hard and tears start to form in her eyes. “S-she’s… she’s…”

 “Yes,” James confirms, “so you see… everything’s going according to plan. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it, it’ll just take time.”

 The young woman is full out crying now, her face covered with tears. “But… I was supposed to have your child… not her!”

 James rolls his eyes and pulls himself away from Wanda. “Did you forget the part where I said she would bear my children?! She’s the Princess, any children we have are rightful heirs to the throne. Of course, she’s going to give birth to my legacy!”

 Wanda glares at him in disbelief. “And what about our children or are those just empty promises?! Were those just lies to get what you wanted from me?!” She yells, her face red underneath the streaks of tears.

 James shrugs. “You want my children? Fine! They’ll have no claim over the throne but if you’d like I’ll gladly give you my seed, fuck you nice and rough, just how I know you like it.” He smirks and steps towards her again, closing the distance between them once more.

 Wanda sighs and wraps her arms around his neck, her head laying on his firm chest. “Please, James… I miss you… I miss us.”

 “Then you shall have me,” he quickly concedes and kisses her head. “If having my child will be the thing that lets you know I’m yours then so be it.” James lowers his head, his lips finding hers and kisses her softly. “Maybe this time your body will take… it never has before.”

 “I want it now…,” she grips him tighter, pressing herself against him, “I want to carry your child.”

 “Soon. We’ll have our own family. I promise.”

 Wanda inches back enough to look up into James’ eyes, smiling brightly at him. “I’ll hold you to it.”

 James nods and leans back in to kiss her cheek. “Go. I have to check on the Princess.” He begins to back away and turns to head back towards his house.

 “I love you…,” Wanda says and James cringes. He fakes a smile and looks back at the slowly retreating woman.

 “And I you,” James says and hurries to his home, a red head standing at his doorstep, her arms crossed at her chest.

 “How touching.” She smirks as he walks by, opening the door with his strength and slamming it shut once the woman has cleared the way.

 “I want her dead!” James says not even looking at her, stomping his way to the table and slamming down his trusted knife.

 “Quiet or you’ll wake her, and I just got her to sleep, finally.” The woman warns sternly.

 James looks towards the bed and sees the Princess, limp and lifeless but breathing. It’s a wonder she’s so still after his angry entrance.

 “Nat, I want Wanda dead. She was never to be part of this plan.”

 Nat makes her way over to the table and sits down in one of the two chairs, her body facing his. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you laid down with her and lied.” She reminds him of his own treachery.

 It’s true and he knows it. He never wanted Wanda or anything to do with the arrangement he knew was coming, but he’d live with it if that’s what his father ordered. However, when the King had entered their land and young James saved his life, he happily accepted the offer of an arranged marriage to the Princess with the promise to one day be King. That was the life he wanted, and nothing was going to stop him from achieving that goal.

 “Help me kill her, Nat.” James pulls out the other chair and sits down across from his friend, speaking in hushed tones not to wake the sleeping woman on the other side of the room.

 “And how do you propose we do that? Her men will kill you and then all of this was pointless. Those men are loyal to her just like ours are to you.”

 Nat was right. Any attempt on Wanda’s life would start a revolt by the men she had brought with her to the village, the ones that had survived the slaughter. James knew they’d protect her with their lives, loyalty running deep. There just had to be a way to get them to jump ship and swear their allegiance to him.

 “I can hear you thinking.” Nat smirks and leans in closer to him.

 James chuckles and grins, his eyes looking back to the bed and the Princess. “Wanda wants her dead.”

 “So do you,” Nat reminds him.

 James shakes his head, and looks back to his friend, “Not as much as Wanda. Wanda blames her even though she had nothing to do with the onslaught.”

 “Pot meet kettle.”

 James rolls his eyes. “Maybe so… but what if we used the Princess as bait?”

 “Bait?” Nat glances a look towards the princess to make sure she’s still sleeping and then back at James with a smirk. “I’m listening.”

 “A set up. We give Wanda an opportunity to extract her pound of flesh, leaving the princess alone and vulnerable. Wanda is hungry for a life with me and she hates the Princess. She won’t hesitate to try and kill her if we set it up correctly.” James sits back and crosses his arms to his chest, pleased with himself for coming up with a plan so quickly.

 “Okay… but how do we stop it? If you foil her attempt and kill Wanda, her men will rage war on our village. Are you willing to risk your people to be rid of the constant thorn at your side?”

 James grins and leans back into the table, closing the gap between Nat and himself. “Steven.”

 Nat blinks in confusion not comprehending what the name had to do with this plan. “Steven?”

 “Steven.” James confirms with an overconfident smirk. “My best friend, my brother in arms, the man that everyone trusts and is honest and loyal to a fault. If he interrupts Wanda’s attempt and kills her, he’ll be a hero for saving the Princesses life, because who in their right mind would try to kill anyone that is with child?”

 Nat quietly laughs and nods in agreement. “Remind me never to piss you off. I don’t want to end up one of your marks”

 “I intend to take what was once promised to me...,” James says with a hard determination, his eyes dark and cold, “...and I’ll kill anyone that stands in my way. You have my word and my word is law.”

 Viking Tag:

@ellaprime7​

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel  @babypink224221 @mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster @caplanreads

[good-rwbyaus]

Au blake opens up her own bookstore

Blake’s Book Trade - mod lilac - 

// Bit of an experiment with this one. Going to try and make this more of an open AU and thus more receptive to influence by asks. So unlike other AUs I’ve written, this could end up making a lot of things out of order depending on the asks I get - or invalidate other pieces that are written in this AU. I don’t know. Never tried this before ahaha. Though if people prefer the general fic format where I do things with actual direction, feel free to comment. 

As with the rest of my writings, here is the “nail” post.   - lilac

1. End of One Dream

“Goodbye,” Blake whispered as she swung her blade at the train latch. She watched as Adam - her friend, her mentor - reached out quietly but stayed on the cart he was on; she already knew he would choose the mission over their friendship. He and the train vanished into the distance, much like her dreams of the future. 

She was just tired of the fighting. After working with the White Fang for so long, she could say one thing for certain; the humans who hated them would continue to hate them, just as the Faunus who hated humans would continue to hate humans. All she did was perpetuate a cycle, a cycle she didn’t know how to stop.

Because Adam - and the current leader of the White Fang - might very well be right. Violence might really be the answer. Because no one cared about the Faunus plight until the violence happened - until the White Fang drove up the costs for mistreating Faunus, both physically and monetarily. 

No. Going back to the White Fang was no longer an option for her. She can’t handle what the group has become - what she’d be expected to do.

Becoming a Huntress had no charm for her either, for Hunters and Huntresses didn’t just hunt Grimm. They hunted the enemies of Mankind and by extension the Kingdom, and it was very easy to declare someone an enemy. 

So in the end, she had nothing. No cause to fight for. No direction to go.

...What was she going to do now? 

-----

2. Under the Sun

Rain poured onto her as she wandered through the streets of Vale. She’d been in a daze since Forever Fall; one moment she’d been surrounded by trees and train tracks, and now she’s surrounded by buildings and vehicles. How she survived the forest in her insensate state she wasn’t quite certain.

Ring ring.   

“Welcome to Tukson’s Book Trade, home to every book under the su- Blake,” said a familiar voice, “You came ba-”

She lifted her head in shock and saw a familiar face – Tukson – the handler she and Adam met before taking on the Forever Fall job. Her eyes glanced over at all the books and shelves around her. How she got back here, she didn’t know. Why she was here, she wasn’t sure either.

Before she could apologize and run out the door, she could feel a pair of gruff hands rest upon her shoulders and gently guide her to a seat behind the counter.

“I’ll be right back,” Tukson said as he disappeared behind a set of doors.  

She watched him leave quietly, watching the double doors swing, before she turned around and took in the view beyond the store counter. The shelves and tables lined with tens of hundreds of books. The faint silhouettes of people walking amidst sheets of rain. The tiny bell on the door that had long stopped shaking after her passage. She could smell the dusky scent of old texts lingering about. 

Her body relaxed for a moment before she tensed up again. 

What was she doing here? She shouldn’t be here.

She should leav-

Everything went dark and then bright again, causing her to stiffen in shock. It took her a moment to realize that a thick, wooly blanket had been placed over her head and back, its comfortable warmth making her unconsciously wrap herself deeper into it. She didn’t realize how much the chill seeped into her bones until just now. 

“Here you go,” Tukson said, handing over a small white, almost dainty teacup over, “Sorry if it tastes bad. It’s been a while since I made this.” 

Almost automatically, Blake took a sip of the hot beverage. And she couldn’t help but immediately scrunch up her face. It was bitter, really bitter. 

“Yeah, Ma always said I couldn’t make tea to save my life,” Tukson loudly guffawed, “It’s warm though. It’ll help stop you from getting a cold.”

She took another sip, and the warmth in her belly did make her feel a little bit better.

“Umm… thanks,” Blake choked out, a bit surprised as to how hoarse she sounded. Her hand brushed against her wet eyes. Had this been all just rain or had she been crying this whole time?

The older faunus nodded his head, quietly letting her regain her bearings. The silence did make her feel a bit better, even though she knew it was temporary. Tukson was after all one of the White Fang’s handlers in Vale - knew more things about its seedy underworld than the average Huntsman. The probing she would face was inevitable.

“I thought something had gone wrong,” Tukson said, finally breaking the silence, pulling a small stool by her side, “Adam poked his head in to tell me the mission was complete. And that you weren’t going to return. Then he just walked out without a word.”

“...I left,” she started. 

“I quit. I just...” 

Adam’s cold uncaring reply echoed in her head – to set the bomb charges despite people still being on the train. 

Blake held the cup of tea in her hands, shaking, “I just can’t...”

“Can’t see yourself fighting the good fight anymore?” Tukson finished with a patient smile.

She lifted her head in surprise, lips open to ask the unspoken question.

“I used to live in Vacuo,” Tukson perched himself on the tiny stool he set for himself. “I fought and killed to protect my village back when the local Huntsman academy was still setting up shop.”

“It had been easy to tell myself I was doing the right thing when I was the only thing standing between the raiders and my friends and family,” he continued as he lifted his head in pride before lowering it again with a sigh. “But…”

“…I couldn’t really do that when I fought as part of the Fang,” he spoke softly, “all I could see was that I was robbing and terrorizing humans for the hope that some good would come out of it,” he shook his head, “It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Before I was the protector, but then I became the raider, the aggressor…”

He shook his head.

“ -So I finally told them I couldn’t fight anymore. Old battle injuries if I recall,” Tukson continued, “But they couldn’t just let me quit, since I knew too much about our operations. So I became one of the handlers at Vale instead.”

He glanced over at her and then at his store and then back at her. He grinned.

“You must love books very much.”

“Yeah. I do,” Blake said quietly, curling deeper into the warm blankets, “How can you tell?”

“When I realized what I’d become and wondered what I was going to do from then on, “ he looked up at the ceiling in remembrance, “I went back to Vacuo. Not back to my village, but just stayed in the endless desert, pitching up tents, hunting small game, surviving off cacti…”

He glanced over her and smiled. 

“I suppose it’s because when you get lost it’s natural to search for someplace familiar. 

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

3. My Answer

They both sat in comfortable silence. Tukson had replaced the blanket on her with another, somewhat apologetic that he didn’t have anything for her to actually dry off with. The teacup in her hands had long been sipped empty. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why a bookstore?” she asked, finally asking the question that she’s been wanting to ask.

Tukson chuckled.

“I guess the bookstore is my answer.”

Blake stared at him in confusion.    

“Knowledge... makes you free,” Tukson explained, “It’s harder for people to chain you down when you know that’s not the way it should be. Every time a Faunus comes in and picks up a book – even if it’s as simple as a basic language primer - I know I’ve contributed to our plight.”

He lifted his head, back a bit straighter and smile proud.

“When I see a mother pick up a fairy tale whose lessons are of tolerance and acceptance, I know I’ve made the world a little better.”

“When I see a kid whose eyes are too tired - too old - for their age coming in and asking for a recommendation, I can give them something that shows that the world still has some light in it.”

“None of these things are world-changing on their own, but I can see the good I’m doing. And if I give it a hundred, a thousand, tens of thousands of times, I know that I’ve made Remnant a better place with means I could accept. 

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

4. Message

Maybe she’d been charmed by that simple description of Tukson’s occupation because as soon as Tukson finished his passionate monologue, she immediately asked if he was hiring before realizing how absurd she sounded.

Tukson had been kind enough to bring her out of the rain and give her such available advice - not ratting her out to the White Fang was already a big enough favor - and now she was asking to be a further burden on him. But as she was stammering her apologies and thanks and goodbyes, the older man had good-naturedly accepted her request.

 “You don’t have to go. I’ve been meaning to get an assistant to run this place actually. I want to go back to Vacuo to see Ma, tell her I’m doing okay so having someone keep an eye on the shop will make things easier.”

After realizing she somehow landed the job that was simultaneously not one she expected to have and the one of her dreams, she had profusely thanked him - told him she’ll meet him bright and early tomorrow morning to report for her job. Just had to quickly find lodging and proper clothes that didn’t make it look like she was going for a fight. 

Before she could leave to do these things though, she heard her now employer speak out one more time. 

“Before you go, Blake. Just...” Tukson paused before smiling, "your friend’s an idiot with more pride than sense, but he did try to protect you in his own way. At least let him know you’re okay.”

---

That was why she’s now in this cheap studio, mulling over a message she’s read forty, probably fifty, times over. She’d been in the wrong, abandoning her partner - her mentor - behind on the message. The White Fang were a band of brothers and sisters in the end, and she effectively spat on that in her moment of pique. 

Maybe Adam didn’t want anything to do with her now. 

But Tukson was right.

She should at least let him know that she was okay. That she was sorry. What he’ll do after that, whether it be ignoring her or telling her off, would be up to him.

Nervously, her finger hovered off the send button.

She closed her eyes and pressed down. 

Adam. I’m sorry. For not being able to go on. For leaving you behind. In hindsight, I was the one being dramatic. But I just don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I can’t continue on fighting this fight, knowing that I’m taking lives in the name of peace. So I decided not to be part of the White Fang nor become a Huntress. I’ll just find my own way.      

I know you hate humans. You showed me part of that reason, so I don’t have the right to tell you what you can’t or shouldn’t do. But I’m afraid for you, Adam. I know all this fighting and bloodshed isn’t you. This isn’t the guy who mentored an idiot kid in the way of the blade all those years ago or patiently listened (with maybe some eyerolling) when she read her stupid fantasy books at you. You’ve always looked out for me, for everyone in the White Fang. You’ve always protected us. You’re a hero, and I don’t want to see you turn the villain.

If you ever need to talk, you can reach me on this scroll. I’ll always care about you.

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

She never received an answer back. 

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 11

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 5.4k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13 (please check out the disclaimer on the first part); buckle up for some serious cuteness

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, May 26 

The air is cool and brisk when you take a step in between the wide sliding doors, eyes wandering over to the domestic yet reserved layout. There are two narrow hallways positioned on either side of you, stretching out and leading into various rooms.  A voice clears itself at your arrival, a young lady with a warm smile standing at the edge of a desk.

“Welcome!” She chirps, eyeing the remaining amount of individuals still pooling in, “How many rooms?”

“Uh…” Namjoon turns, doing a quick headcount before spinning around and returning her smile, “Four, please.”

Nodding, she begins plucking keys off her desk and hands them over to Namjoon. He gestures for all of you to follow after him when he slips into one of the hallways, multiple sets of confused eyes aimlessly walking on his trail. 

“This looks better than our dorms.” Hoseok gapes in pure awe, a whisper tumbling off his lips.

“It really does.” Jimin reminisces, “But it’s not that bad for us.” 

“Guys.” Taehyung announces, compelling everyone to look in his direction. He points over to the long window, the very one that draws attention to the large body of water outside.

“Are you kidding me?!” Hoseok scoffs, raising his arms in pure disbelief, “They have a pool?”

“Now that’s just sad.” Jimin pouts, observing the many racing individuals that splash around it with a longing gaze.

“We don’t need a pool.” Jungkook adds, “We play basketball, what we really need is a better court.”

“Yeah but swimming can be a form of exercise.” Hoseok eyes Jungkook, “You don’t think we need to stay in shape?”

Jungkook sighs when the latter keeps directing questionable gazes at him, eyes swinging over to you.

“What do you think Y/N? Do we really need a pool?”

He gives you a moment to answer, but is only given silence in return, “Y/N?”

“H-Huh?” Your eyes suddenly flicker and meet Jungkook’s, who wonders how you’ve missed his question when you’re literally right beside him, “Um, I don’t think having a pool is a bad idea…”

“SEE?!” Hoseok gets way too close to Jungkook, causing him to roll his eyes in dismay. Namjoon suddenly pauses in the middle of the hallway, keys intertwining into one room’s lock.

“Y/N, Jungkook and Taehyung!” He exclaims, all of your heads simultaneously perking up amongst the large crowd, “Your room is over here!”

Namjoon tosses the keys over to Taehyung and then gestures everyone to keep trailing behind him to the following rooms, which are right beside the one he had given you. Stepping inside, you immediately take in the large space the living room occupies and the giant window in the far back that gives you a wonderful view of the school. There are three rooms lined to the side that you presume to be bedrooms, alongside a small kitchen that appears bigger and much cleaner than the one in your dorms.

Taehyung and Jungkook instantly head in, dropping their bags onto the ground and exploring around the grand apartment. You remain at the door frame, still soaking in the scenery when there's a warm tap on the side of your shoulder. Swiveling around, your heart drops at the sight and he stands cemented to the door, eyes glazing across your own.

“Y/N.” It’s all he needs to say to bring flashes of memories from before, your eyes falling to the ground. “I-“

When he steps forward, you step back. You don’t notice the flash of disappointment it brings across him, form stiffening and lips tightened when he opens his mouth again.

“Yoongi!” A familiar female voice calls out for him, marching over to grab the sleeve of his shirt, “Namjoon’s been looking for you!”

He doesn’t answer when his eyes are still on you, desperately roaming over your features until Soyoung begins dragging him away. After a moment he deeply sighs, finally pivoting around and letting himself go with her.

***

The apartment is really nice; something you actually notice after taking a proper look at it’s interior. There’s a fresh breath of air to it when you take a glimpse along the window, noticing the pool underneath and a larger silver building you later on discovered to be the school’s library. It’s large and spacious, more than enough room for three people and appearing like it could fit at least six instead.

Although it’s welcoming and all, it’s something that only manages to peek out a small smile from you. You suppose it’s enough to spend the entire day in, but it appears that your roommates have other ideas on their mind. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun Y/N!” Taehyung persuades, hands wrapped around your arm.

“I-I don’t know guys….” Truthfully, the last thing you wanted to do was go with them. It’s clear how eager they are to explore the foreign area, yet you can’t seem to word the unwanted desire to do so when Taehyung stares at you with hopeful eyes. 

“I think it’ll be nice.” Jungkook confirms, squatting down onto the ground and placing a handful of water bottles into his large bag. He stands up, hauling the military bag onto his shoulders, “After just seeing the dorms, it’s pretty obvious at this point that this school is better than ours.”

You sheepishly smile, “Guys, really it’s okay. Just go on without me.”

A deep frown settles Taehyung’s lips at that, the door to your apartment barging open when Hoseok and Jimin tumble in.

“We’re ready!!” Hoseok shrieks, dressed in a bright red shirt and black shorts, a small colourful pouch chained to them. Jimin is behind him, wearing a giant pair of diving goggles you assume are for swimming.

“Not all of us.” Taehyung sighs, “Y/N wants to stay back.”

“What?!” Hoseok rushes over to you, clasping onto your hands, “But why?”

You shake your head, “I’m not feeling it, sorry guys.”

“Y/N, please.” Jimin steps forward, a pleading look in his eyes, “We won’t be out for long!”

“Yeah!” Hoseok nods, “Heck, just come for an hour and if you still don’t feel like it, we’ll bring you back!”

“Well….”

Four sets of eyes are glued to your reaction, practically gawking at you for a response. You softly laugh at the image, a small nod of your head releasing a thunderous cheer from them. With a sigh, you grab your bag and march outside, pausing for Taehyung to lock the room.

You smile when Hoseok and Jimin are beaming at your compliance to come along, but it’s cut off short when Hoseok’s volume raises.

“Namjoon! Yoongi! You guys should come with us!”

You immediately stiffen when footsteps draw near, gaze diverting over to the ground as Namjoon chuckles.

“Maybe later, I have to go meet up with the other team’s couch today.” Namjoon apologetically smiles, quickly filtering himself through the crowd and swinging by into another hallway.

After he departs though, a red head of hair chooses to stay back and Hoseok’s eyes beam.

“What about you Yoongi?” He questions, a wide smile stretched on his lips.

Yoongi simply shrugs, earning a loud sound of excitement out of Hoseok. However, when everyone begins to parade away as a group, his look of disinterest is mistaken when his gaze remains practically glued to you. It becomes a bit daunting, feeling as if his stare was starting to burn into the back of your head until you all exit the building.

Your eyes widen when you truly take in the grand expanse of the school, a modernistic view compared to the solemn and muted appearance of your own. It finally causes some interest to spark within you, eyes maneuvering around before they come onto a clean stop in front of a giant body of water.

Hoseok spins around, eyes suddenly serious and hands pointing towards everyone.

“Alright guys, we have a total of 15 hours before our next game. So have fun, try not to get sick and if you need to throw up, make a beeline for the bathroom because I’m not cleaning up after anyone’s leftover lunch. All clear?”

“Yes Sir!” Jimin cutely exclaims, raising up his hand as if Hoseok had just taken attendance. Without another word, he swirls and aims directly for the pool, droplets of water falling into the sky.

One by one, everyone follows Hoseok’s steps. Jimin holds hands with Taehyung and Jungkook, only for them to fling him into the pool by himself and to later mischievously laugh about it together. You soon find out that after whining about how unfair they were, Jimin ended up getting his revenge by pushing both of them into the water after sneakily showing up behind them. Hoseok on the other hand, is filled with protests when their antics cause water to repeatedly enter his eyes, on the verge of having eyeballs changing into the shade of Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi.

You clear your throat and settle back into your chair by the pool, keeping your gaze concentrated on the water and not on your captain who has coincidentally planted himself down onto a chair that was right beside you. A soft smile caresses your lips when Jimin waves at you, legs hurriedly scrambling to get out of the pool and making his way over.

“We’re going to play volleyball! You should come!” He latches onto your arm but you gently push him away, shaking your head.

“I don’t really like the water.” You apologetically smile, “Sorry.”

“It’s just water! And if it scares you a lot, Jungkook can punch it away.”

Jimin shifts to show Jungkook submerged mid-way in the pool, boxing the empty air like he was in the middle of an intense game. The gesture itself makes you chuckle, even more so when Hoseok glances at him bizarrely and then points his finger to his head, whirling it around to showcase that their member had perhaps gone a bit crazy.

“It’s alright. Maybe next time.” You sheepishly wave your hands at him, but Jimin doesn’t just stop there and instead stares at the man indulging underneath the shade of a giant umbrella.

“Then the captain should come!”

Yoongi immediately shakes his head no, but he doesn’t have much of a say in it when Jungkook, Hoseok and Taehyung all arise from the water and lift him up. Although his protests ring heavy into the air, he doesn’t seem to mind much once he remains afloat in the water.

“Rules are simple. Just get the ball over to the other’s side team for a point.” Jungkook explains, holding onto the volleyball securely and ready to serve.

Jimin and Jungkook remain at the back as Taehyung swims to the front, while on the opposite side Yoongi mumbles to Hoseok that he’ll take the back.

The ball raises up high into the air and is sent flying over. Hoseok moves to hit it and it bounces back between Jimin and Jungkook before Hoseok throws it back again. This time Taehyung tries to hit the ball, but to his dismay he hits it in such a way where it falls down right in front of him instead over the net.

Jungkook and Jimin burst out in laughter as Taehyung splashes over to grab the ball, Jimin’s voice spiking up when Taehyung can only seem to shrug it off.

“What are you even doing?!” He plants a hand over his face, giggles still escaping him when Taehyung embarrassedly passes the ball over to Jungkook.

He gets ready to serve and Yoongi quickly swims to the back, assuring Hoseok that he won’t let the ball escape from him. However when Jungkook finishes serving, Yoongi splashes around in the water and to no avail is able to hit the ball.

Hoseok gawks at him in exasperation, even the opposing team laughing loudly at their captain’s antics. You can’t seem to restrain the laughter either, especially when Yoongi splashes around dramatically but still can’t seem to reach the ball. His eyes perk up at the sound, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he hands it over the opposite team.

Jungkook serves again, but this time Hoseok and Yoongi can’t even respond to his shot when the ball goes flying, off course of the pool completely. Hoseok whirls around, hands defensively clutched tighter to his chest as he glances at Jungkook in disbelief.

“Yah, are you mad or something??”

Jungkook bursts out laughing at that but Jimin realizes the ball is missing, swimming over to you. “Y/N, do you see it around anywhere?”

You get up the chair and scan around the area, noticing the ball had managed to roll over underneath another chair farther away. Lightly jogging over, you bend down and retrieve it, raising it up high into the air so the guys can see that you have it. Heading back, you don’t notice the trail of water that’s made it’s across the edge of the pool until your feet make contact with it.

Your eyes widen when you’re suddenly falling, form heading straight into the sea of water until you’ve been completely merged.

“Y/N!” Taehyung yells, all of the members hurriedly swimming to check on you only to realize that you’ve been pulled out by someone else.

Yoongi winces when half of your weight settles onto him, hands desperately clutching onto his shirt as you face him with your arms crossed over your chest. His hands don’t leave you either, remaining firm on your shoulders and his lip frowning when he sees your eyes anxiously flickering around.

“He’s okay.” Yoongi informs right away, moving to cover you when everyone draws near, “I’ll take him to the nurse, you guys continue.”

Hoseok opens his mouth as if to question further, but nothing comes out of his mouth when Yoongi suddenly lifts you up, tightly grabbing onto you as he leaves the pool. 

***

You subconsciously dart your gaze around when you enter the building, quietly padding in after Yoongi as he walks. Your arms remain crossed, a trail of water dripping onto the floor.

“Stay here.” He whispers, knocking on a small room. When no one emerges, he slips in and grabs a long towel, draping it over your shoulders so that it covers you completely. Gesturing you over again, he brings you down to a long hallway that ultimately leads up to an office.

Twisting the knob, you first notice Namjoon sitting in the corner, eyes tracing over a book until his gaze darts up. Next to him is a woman wearing a flowery sundress, a large hat perched on her head and a syringe being adjusted in her hands.

“Soyoung.” Yoongi calls out, her eyes drifting over to him before snapping over to you. You immediately recognize her as the nurse that helped you when you had fainted in the midst of a try-out, and it’s something she remembers as well.

“What brings you here Yoongi?” She questions, leaving the syringe next to Namjoon and wandering over.

He gestures behind him, “He slipped and fell into the pool. Can you do a check-up?”

Her eyes flicker and she smiles, hand reaching out and tapping your arm. “Let’s go somewhere else, hm?”

You nod, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi to quietly follow after her. When you enter silence, you clutch the towel wrapped around you tighter, mind lighting on alert right away when Yoongi’s not around you. You’ve always noticed you’re less worried about your identity around him, having your secret exposed granting you the chance not to be so jittery all the time.

Soyoung brings you into a separate room, one much more private with curtains draped along the windows and a bed resting to the side. You cautiously sit down on it, the sudden realization that she’ll need to check parts of your body for injuries dwelling onto you and causing you to unconsciously clutch the towel even tighter.

After going through some of her supplies, Soyoung swivels around, a smile drawn on her lips at your stiffened form.

“You know, Yoongi wouldn’t have left you alone with me if he didn’t trust me.” Your eyes widen and she chuckles, a light glimmer emerging in her eyes, “Being a girl in a boys basketball team gets tough now, doesn’t it?”

Your jaw drops and you stammer underneath your breath, “I-I…”

“Fainted and was brought to my office, remember?” Soyoung cheekily whispers. 

“R-Right…” Although you’re relieved to find out that you don’t need to come up with some bizarre explanation or random excuse for the situation, it’s still alarming to know that someone else knew your secret without your own knowledge.

Your eyes light up.

“Yoongi…h-how did he find out?”

“Hm?” Soyoung looks up, occupied with applying disinfectant to a small gash she’s found on your elbow, “Oh, he accidentally discovered it when you collapsed mid-way during try-outs for the team.”

She reaches up to ruffle your now short locks, a knowing smile on her lips, “After the wig you had came off, his suspicions were eventually confirmed.” 

Your brows contort with the onslaught of new information, dots connecting to paint a picture. “That means he knew before I was selected….a-and he still let me onto the team….”

“Of course he did.” Soyoung replies, checking your forehead, “He understood what your story was and told me to keep it a secret too.”

You hum, growing silent by the minute as Soyoung steps back.

“You’re all set. There’s two cuts on your right elbow and ankle, but the biggest one is here.” She taps the side of your head where she’s placed the bandage, causing you to wince, “Keep this on until it’s fully healed, ok?”

Giving her a nod, she escorts you out and when you stare at her clueless from having reached there, she gives you a handful of directions so you can find your way back. With a friendly wave, you’re sent back, head still spinning around the new knowledge you've been given.

***

By the time you make it back to the dorms, the guys have returned and appear utterly exhausted. You find out that the game had eventually tied, but a downpour ended up ruining any motivation to win and they had all raced inside, spending their time drying off and chattering amongst each other as you returned. After that Jimin and Hoseok stay back for a while, the two reminisce about how they miss their old dorm and even though you’re only here for the game, they find themselves not enjoying staying in their new apartment. Following loads of persuasion from Jungkook and even Taehyung, they eventually make their way back to their place and the three of you settle back in to prepare for the night.

“Get some decent sleep you two.” Jungkook mumbles, voice sounding fatigued, “Tomorrow’s game is important, and I didn’t come all the way here just to lose.”

“I kind of want to lose so that we can live here from now on.” Taehyung remarks, causing Jungkook to glare at him as he frowns, “What? It’s better, isn’t it?”

 Jungkook sighs, sending you a smile before heading into his room, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You reply, watching his door close shut as Taehyung approaches from behind you.

“Does it still hurt?” You’re confused until he points to your forehead, smiling as you lightly trace the bandage.

“Only a little.” He frowns at your response, poking the bandage only for you to hiss.

“Sorry! I just wanted to see how deep it was.” He removes his hand completely, patting you on the shoulder, “Sleep well ok? You need it the most.”

You nod and he disappears into his room. Stifling back a heavy yawn, you pad over to grab your backpack and haul it over to your shoulder before heading into your room. Unpacking some of your belongings, your mind begins to wander.

You can recall it so clearly, the devastation of losing the game and then talking to Yoongi. How his words felt like taking bullets to the heart, a haze of anguish and regret immediately flooding you.

A low sigh escapes your lips, grip paused on a shirt you had been withdrawing. Your hands thump against your bag, lips downturned.

There’s a small thud that resonates through the apartment.

You blink, glancing around and wondering if you had knocked something over by accident, but you’re given no confirmation until you hear another thud, this time coming from outside of your room…

Cautiously walking out, you contemplate if you should wake up Jungkook or Taehyung when there’s barely any sunlight peeking through the window. It would be strange for them if you were scared, but it’s in these moments where the instincts of being a girl unfortunately kick in and you know that it’s wrong not to direct attention to them.

Padding your feet over, you eye down the front door and move forward, bending down to place your ear against the soft wood. For a moment, it’s just plain silence that greets you – but then the door rattles again and you instantly retract back with a jolt.

“W-Who is it….?” You quietly whisper, hoping that you would get some type of answer to alleviate the impending distress you were being given. 

“It’s me.” Your eyes widen at the familiarity, hands reaching out for the door and yanking it open.

Yoongi stands in front of you, hair slightly dishevelled and eyes appearing heavily drained, dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt and black shorts. You’re left speechless when he darts his gaze at you, baffled at the sudden emergence.

“Uh…” You begin, expecting him to speak up or do something to make his intentions clear. He only takes a step forward, eyes quickly surveying the inside of your apartment before whispering.

“Are they asleep?” He questions, brows raised. It takes you a minute to realize he’s talking about your roommates, eyes snapping up and head nodding.

“Good. Do you have a minute?” He gestures to behind him with his shoulder, causing you to quirk up a brow at the question. You debate if you should just tell him you were planning on going to sleep, but something that tells you at the way he sways from side to side in absence and eyes remaining intent, that there’s more left to the story. 

Twisting around, you grab onto your keys and shut the apartment door, rotating the knob to make sure it’s firmly locked before facing him. He guides you like before, your naïve eyes following after him as you keep contemplating where he wants to take you so late into the night.

Your answer is revealed when a rough breeze whooshes past you, blowing past locks of your hair and ruffling up your shirt. The midnight air caresses your skin, eliciting a shiver down your spine at the freezing temperature. Trailing your gaze upwards, you notice the spiral of staircases above that Yoongi has already started to climb.

Quickly following his steps, you can only take occasional indulgent glances at the brightly lit moon, it’s dazzling beam shimmering down upon you and gratefully lighting a way so you don’t accidentally trip somewhere. Once you’ve reached the end of them, Yoongi jumps down onto the chalky concrete and reaches out to hold your hand when you try to do the same.

Pivoting around, you absorb in the escalating height that you have, eyes glancing down to view the entire school. Glancing back at Yoongi, you notice that he’s in the midst of shaking out a blanket he’s found, patches of it remaining damp.

“There’s only one…” He mumbles, warily glancing at you. It’s only when he notices you gradually inching over and slightly shivering that he chuckles, wrapping the blanket first around your shoulder before letting it slump against his.

Sitting down on the prickling gravel, you face the shining moon. Your eyes sparkle, taking in every aspect around you.

The chilling breeze, the damp yet warm blanket, the breathtaking view.

Craning your head, your eyes meet his.

Yoongi…

The longer you stare, the more the words are threatening to leave your lips. When they finally do, you feel a weight being lifted off your chest.

“I’m sorry….”

He raises his head, as if wondering if he heard you correctly. When you smile apologetically, he dryly laughs, a sad smile tugging at his lips as he looks away.

“Why are you the one that’s feeling sorry….”

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” You immediately interject, “What you said was right, I-I…just didn’t want to hear it.” A sigh leaves your lips, your grip on the blanket tightening, “You were looking out for me…”

And quietly protecting me, even when I couldn’t do that myself.

Yoongi deeply exhales, a tinge of pink creeping up onto your cheeks when you suddenly notice how close he is to you. Shaking off those thoughts though, you attempt to focus on your words – words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” He begins, “Seokjin would have found out either way, he’s got a sharp eye for these types of things.”

He shakes his head, “What I was trying to prevent was him getting close to you, because if there was a slight chance that something could have happened then–“ 

He pinches his lips together, darting his gaze on the ground. It draws confusion out of you, pondering onto his words until a light bulb goes off in your head.

“Y-You were protecting me…” Yoongi flinches at your choice of words, though you misunderstand the intention, “Are you cold? Here.”

You move the blanket so it covers him more but he sighs, almost making you wonder just how cold he was from the redness appearing over his neck and cheeks. His eyes move into your direction, a curious glint sparking in them as he aims to switch the topic to one he’s been very interested in knowing.

“Well?” He questions, raising a intrigued brow, “How did this even start?”  

“O-Oh…uh,” You push back a lock of hair shyly, a lopsided smile gracing on your lips, “I wanted to play basketball competitively for a while, but there was no team available for girls at my school. When I checked into other schools too, there was always only a team for boys since most girls preferred to play the sport recreationally.”

You continue to explain, avertedly glancing away when Yoongi gazes at you, “A-And so I tried to convince my coach to create a team, but there still wasn’t much interest. I started to get really frustrated and then Hyerin, my best friend, joked one day that if I wanted to be on the boys team then maybe I should just be a boy myself….”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, “Why did you want to play competitive basketball so badly?”

Now that’s something that has always been tricky to answer, “I just…wanted to? I know it’s not an amazing answer but I found something I loved to do and just wanted to go for it.”

His eyes dim down, almost appearing calmer and gentler and you sheepishly smile.

“I can understand why you did it.” He straightens up, leaning back and roughly clearing his throat, “Although mine wasn’t extreme to the point where I dressed up as a girl, I had my own fight to pick.”

You shuffle closer in intriguement and Yoongi chuckles, a deep exhale leaving him, “I knew I was serious about basketball but my parents were really against it. They hated how I liked playing a sport over school and tried hard in convincing me that getting a normal job that paid normal money was the only thing I could ever do.”

Your eyes narrow, intently listening as he goes on, “I couldn’t explain it either to them….what being in that court is like. Having a team, winning together and training hard.” He snickers, “I doubt school would do that for me.”

He reaches out to swipe at your eyes, growing flustered when you couldn’t grasp onto the fact that a slip of water had run down your cheek. His hand drops down and you sniffle, voice dropping down into a whisper.

“I don’t think they know what you’re capable of.” Acknowledgement runs deep in your voice and Yoongi’s eyes light up at the sound of it. Though you begin to laugh strangely then, causing him to quirk up a brow.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, “It’s just….this school. I just wonder what your parents would think when they hear you inspired me to come here in the first place.”

Yoongi blatantly stares, astonishment crossing his features as he wonders if he heard right, “Inspired you?”

You use your best anchor voice, “The Great Min Yoongi, Bangtan Sondeyeon’s Ace Captain that’s returned for five consecutive sessions. Averaging in at 15 points and 3 rebounds, aiming to head into nationals soon.” A giggle escapes you and Yoongi suddenly turns away, but by now you know the deepening red spreading across him isn’t a result of the bitter cold.

“Yoongi.” You quietly whisper, but he still doesn’t face you and you giggle again, hand covering your mouth, “Yoongi, are you blushing?”

“N-No.” He sputters out, a wide grain stretching on your lips at his cute reactions. He coughs, supposedly clearing his throat. “So you came here because of me….”

You nod, beaming when he faces you now. “….and you disguised yourself as a boy because you wanted to play professional basketball.”

You nod again and he softly shakes his head, a thought sparking in you as you lightly laugh.

“Is it weird? Having a girl on your team?” It has always occurred to you that your situation isn’t exactly ideal for someone wanting to pursue the career, so you can only imagine what it feels like being the captain of a team that you’re part of.

“Not at all.” Yoongi’s serious response takes you a bit off guard, eyes sharp and words straight to the point. “I think it takes a lot of strength to do something like that.”

 Your eyes enlarge, frozen in place when there’s a new emergence of admiration in his gaze. It results in you suddenly becoming hyper aware of how close you just are to him, the blanket only being stretched out enough to keep both of you covered from the cooling breeze.  

When his breath ghosts over yours, you can only continue to stare with wide eyes when he leans forward, so close to brushing his lips against yours. Your eyes seem to automatically flutter shut at that, the moonlight gleaming so wonderfully, a fitful sliver casting over your silhouette’s. 

He’s so, so close.

And yet so far away.

“Y/N!!”

The sound of your name elicits a gasp from you, eyes incredibly wide when Yoongi moves away with what you assume to be a whine. 

“Y/N! Are you out here?!” The voice is deep, a sigh leaving you when you can pinpoint exactly who it is and knowing that they must have discovered by now that you weren’t in your room. You glance over at Yoongi, trying to gather some words to speak but he simply gets up and dusts off his shorts.

“Come on, I’ll take you back.” His hand instinctively reaches out for yours and for some reason the action is amplified, a cascade of red spreading over you immediately. You quietly oblige, cheekily holding his hand tighter and smiling when he squeezes it in response.

By the time you meet up with Taehyung, Yoongi decides to bid you goodbye and waves off the confused look your roommate holds. He saunters away, shoulders slumped down like he’s just incurred a huge loss and you can softly smile when Taehyung starts questioning where you had gone.

The night sky pools into your room, head hitting against the cushioning mattress as you drape the blanket over your legs. Although you’re prepared to simply flutter your eyes shut and snooze away, your eyes are only able to drift over the striking moonlight outside, a hand reaching out to brush against the tip of your lips. A shy smile graces your features, but then you slump into the mattress - being too aware that you’ll be getting anything except sleep for the night.

On the other side of things, the situation doesn’t seem to be any better when there’s a red head of hair tossing and turning around in his bed, skin flushed and mind statically wandering when the absence of sleep doesn’t graciously spare him either.

[lwjstiletto]

wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

wwx shuts himself in his workshop for a month straight, with lwj being his only visitor. everything he makes looks beautiful on lwj but it’s somehow not enough, not quite /deserving/ of lwj yet.

when he tells lwj this, he only gets a slight downturn of his lips in return.

“you have fine craftsmanship.” lwj says, turning his hand so that the lights bounce off the crystal encrusted hand chain. “i have never seen anything like it before.”

wwx watches him in stunned silence. lwj tends to drop these really sincere, heartfelt compliments that both embarass him and motivate him to show lwj he can do even better. another reason for his stunned silence is how ethereal lwj looks in jewellery

wwx wants to cover him in it. a nice jade pendant that hangs just above his bellybutton; a hairpiece that weaves flowers between the silky black strands of his hair; a thick banded crystal choker that sits around his throat just so; an anklet with teardrop pearls perhaps

but for now, he has to work up to making the hand jewellery suitable. the rest can wait

—•—

the next time lwj visits, he looks like he’s one blink away from sleeping where he stands.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, because they have somehow progressed to calling each other by their infromal names, “are you okay?”

“mn.” lwj says, then almost collapses mid-blink. in true rom-com fashion, wwx catches him with one hand around his waist and the other on his arm. he would tease lwj about it but this isn’t the time.

“i’m sorry.” lwj tries to straighten up.

“come on, you need to sleep.” wwx says, using his hold on lwj’s waist to guide him towards his bedroom.

“no sleep.” lwj says, planting his feet into the ground much like jin ling does when he wants to be stubborn.

“lan zhan,” wwx cajoles with his practiced baby voice, “come on. you’re tired. just nap for one hour.”

lwj glares at him, “sleep later, work now.”

wwx bends down and puts a hand under lwj’s knees, scooping him up before he can react.

lwj’s sleepy eyes widen, “wei ying!”

“if you’re gonna act like a child,” wwx says walking towards the bedroom, “then expect me to treat you like one.”

internally, wwx is panicking. he is definitely crossing some boundaries here. however, wwx considers lwj a friend and his friend looks like he hasn’t slept for a week. sometimes extreme measures are necessary, jc has taught him that.

lwj twitches in his arms when he reaches his bedroom door.

“you can put me down now.” he says, his voice weak.

wwx ignores him and kicks his door open, gently placing lwj on the bed once he reaches it.

“go to sleep.” he says, pulling the duvet over him, “if you dare come out before the hour is up, i can and will carry you back.”

lwj looks like he wants to protest but he seems to lose the fight with exhaustion and drifts off the sleep before wwx’s eyes. wwx quickly exits the bedroom and closes the door behind himself. lwj. is. in. his. bed. sleeping... he’s sleeping. because he’s tired. and wwx’s friend.

“jiang cheng, lan zhan is in my bed.” he says into his phone once he has shut himself in his workshop.

“xichen’s brother? why? did you kidnap him? tell me you didn’t wei wuxian. xichen will kill you.” jc says.

“ok first of all, he’s here for work.” wwx realises that between working and sleeping he has forgotten to inform anyone about this. “and he was tired. he looked so sleepy and cute, what could i do?”

“you... was he at least... coherent? it was consensual right?” jc asks

“what?!” wwx screeches, standing up in indignation. “jiang cheng oh my god. we- he’s TAKING A NAP!”

“oh thank god.” jc sighs, “wait how do you know lan wangji?”

“ah,” wwx scratches his nose, “long story short, remember that pretty guy from uni? yeah lan zhan and him, same guy.”

“you-“ jc sighs deeply, “i’ve been hearing you wax poetic about lan wangji’s hands?! how will i ever look xichen in the eyes after knowing that you probably- eugh i hate you.”

“ok first of all, it’s not a fetish-“

jc hangs up on him.

this leaves wwx with too much free time to think and that’s never a good thing. so he starts looking around for something to do. this is how his eyes fall on lwj’s gloves lying on the table beside the door. lwj has developed a habit of discarding them as soon as he comes in

and like a magnet, wwx feels drawn to them. it must be annoying for lwj to wear them all the time, but he never complains. wwx, however, has no such qualms and detests them with vigor

today, it’s the white leather gloves. wwx picks one up and examines it. it’s soft to the touch, worn out to smoothness. an idea strikes him and he tosses the glove back as he reaches for his sketchbook. he thinks he has finally got it.

—•—

when lwj wakes, there is light coming through the curtains. he doesn’t remember the last time he had such a comfortable, dreamless sleep. an unfamiliar but pleasant scent surrounds him, safe, warm.

lwj bolts up in bed, remembering exactly where he is. he looks at his phone. it’s six, ok that’s fine. wait... 6AM. lwj throws the covers off and looks around, then back at his phone as if that’s going to change something.

he spent the night at wwx’s place. speaking of, where did wwx sleep then? he ventures outside and sees nobody in the living area. sure enough, wwx is passed out in his workshop, cheek flat on his workbench.

lwj sighs.

“wei ying.” he prods his shoulder gently, “wake up.”

wwx groans and shakes him off, “go away.”

after a few more pokes lwj rules it a lost cause and decides to make tea for himself and coffee for wwx. thankfully, he doesn’t have work until 3pm so he has plenty of time to waste puttering around wwx’s sparce kitchen.

after finding only hot sauce in the top cupboards (one labelled ‘burning hot’ with flames on the cover which makes him cringe away) he finally finds coffee. no tea. it’ll have to do, he thinks.

the smell of coffee near his nose does a better job at waking wwx up. he reaches blindly for the cup before he even blinks his eyes open. ridiculous.

lwj, in the most dignified way possible, sits on the purple beanbag and waits as wwx’s brain reboots with every sip of coffee.

“lan zhan?” wwx asks.

“i have the same question.” lwj says, “why am i still here?”

“too philosophical for this early in the morning. what time even is it?” wwx looks at the wall clock and groans, “why are you awake?”

lwj gives him a blank look, “i was promised a nap.”

“yeah, yeah.” wwx brushes him off, “i’m happy you slept well, you look much better than before.”

lwj feels his ears burn and his heart rate quicken.

wwx has an ease to his words and actions that makes lwj agreeable to existing in his space without wanting to revert back to professionalism. he fears that one day he’ll become so comfortable that he wouldn’t want to leave

“come here.” wwx beacons.

once lwj is bent over his shoulder, he shows him the rough sketches he has been working on all night apparently.

“are those..”

“inspired by the bane of my existence, none other than your gloves!” wwx says proudly.

“why do you hate the gloves?” lwj asks, curious.

wwx gives him a complicated look, “because they’re fabric. how old and boring. wouldn’t you rather be tangled in crystal chains that you can’t wear or remove without help?”

lwj lets him dodge the question, then gives the designs a closer look. “they’re very interesting.”

“it’s just a rough sketch.” wwx refuses to look at him, “i’ll refine the details and start working on it by tomorrow.”

“mn.” lwj says.

—•—

“da-ge tried to beat up su she again.” nhs informs him when he gets to his office a few hours later.

“again?” lwj asks.

“he bumped into him at the lobby. again.” nhs sighs.

“i will speak to him.” lwj says.

“what? no these stalkers just get worse-“

“i meant nie mingjue.” lwj clarifies.

“it should be fine. i’ve banned him from office premises now and i’m working on filing a restraining order against him.” nhs says, “i tried to explain this to da-ge but you know his temper. actually maybe you should talk to him. he might listen to you.”

lwj nods, “i will call him after my shoot.”

—•—

nhs must have mentioned it to nmj because he’s there to pick lwj up after his shoot. it’s late, almost past eleven, and the parking lot is half empty.

lwj gets a text from wwx just before he gets in the car.

wei ying: garnet or emerald?

lwj replies: i’m no expert at this

wei ying: lan zhannnn humour me

lwj: ruby

wei ying: i will fossilise you in one. lan zhannnn be serious

“you look much more at ease.” nmj comments.

lwj realises that he is.

“you don’t need to bother with su she anymore. huaisang has it under control.” lwj says.

nmj gives him a skeptical look.

“i trust him.” lwj emphasises.

“i was told you had previous acquaintance with that man.” nmj says.

lwj sighs, “he was in my cello class.”

“you play the cello?” nmj asks.

“not anymore.” lwj answers.

nmj doesn’t ask further.

they sit in uncomfortable silence until nmj asks where he should drop lwj off. what comes out of his mouth are the directions to wwx’s place. his excuse: he needs to know what a garnet gem is before making a decision.

“i will trust you and huaisang to handle this.” nmj says when they come to a stop, “be well.”

lwj nods, then opens the car door.

“wangji.” nmj’s hand grabs his elbow gently.

lwj turns to him.

“i’d like for us to be friends.” nmj says. it sounds stilted, amended.

lwj frowns, “i already consider you one.”

nmj nods and lets go of his hand. with the hint of a smile he says, “goodnight wangji.”

lwj looks at nmj drive away then turns to face wwx’s apartment building. now that he’s here, his excuse sounds feeble. he takes a deep breath, he’s already here. might as well.

wwx opens his apartment door and stares at lwj like he has seen a ghost. “lan zhan?”

“i don’t know what garnet looks like.” lwj says.

wwx grins at him, then grabs his forearm, dragging him into his workshop. there, on a mannequin hand, is the half finished skeleton of what looks like wwx’s design coming to life. he holds up a red and a green stone. he points to the red one, “this is a garnet.”

“it looks like a ruby.” lwj says

wwx looks like he goes through the seven stages of grief before he says, in a strangled voice, “how could you? you’re– you’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

lwj gives him an innocent look. he can feel the tension in his shoulders bleed out.

“it’s coming together.” wwx says when he notices lwj looking at his unfinished project. “come here, let me see if you can have mobility with it on.”

lwj removes his gloves and stretches his hand towards wwx. wwx gently manoeuvring delicate silver chains around his hand isn’t something new, but it feels different in the middle of the night. more intimate. lwj discards that word with a flick of his hair

it’s not usual for him to leave it unpinned, but he has spent the day lying on a carpet with his hands stretched upwards, balancing a small perfume bottle between his fingers. coming out of it with a few strands out of place is a minor inconvenience.

“tada!” wwx says, drawing lwj’s attention to his right hand which is now tangled in a complicated-looking array of chains from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist. it’s stunning even in its incomplete form.

“it’s beautiful.” lwj says, low as the silent night.

“it’s barely anything right now!” wwx protests but his cheeks are red, “come on, try to move your fingers.”

lwj does, slowly as to not break the delicate structure in case it does lack mobility. it moves with him, like still water disturbed, pressing coldness onto his skin when he closes his fist.

there is no bite, in fact it barely feels any different from wearing light cotton gloves. he thinks he understands wwx’s vision better now. he opens his fist again, one finger at a time, watching how the chains loosen and hang lower on his wrist.

he’s so fascinated by it that he’s surprised to see wwx standing in front of him when he looks up. his eyes are fixed on lwj, unwavering and shameless in their focus, dark with what lwj would presume was desire if he didn’t know better.

“ah it doesn’t need adjustments for now then!” wwx says, snapping out of it. “it looks great on you! i’m sure your girlfriend will like it when it’s finished too!”

“i’m gay.” lwj deadpans.

“oh.” wwx says, choked. “your... boyfriend then?”

“wei ying i...” think of you as a safe haven in my hectic life? find your rambling amusing? think you’re extremely talented and deserve success? have a teeny tiny crush on you? what is lwj supposed to say? each of those sound worse than the one before

at the end he decides to settle for the worst possible answer, “i don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

he does! well, not really. but he would make time if it was wwx... or something! sometimes lwj wants to punch a wall, break a finger, quit his job as a consequence and live in a secluded mountain in the east for the rest of his days. this is one of those moments.

wwx nods in understanding. lwj would prefer if he /didn’t/ understand and demanded to be lwj’s boyfriend to prove him wrong. ‘i’ll make you have time for a boyfriend’ is what lwj imagines him saying.

instead wwx offers him tea.

“it’s too late for coffee.” he shrugs when lwj mumbles a surprised ‘tea?’

before lwj can ask why he suddenly has tea in his house when he didn’t just yesterday, wwx is already gone.

they sit around wwx’s small breakfast table. as they sip their tea- high quality tea nonetheless- wwx begins to talk.

“this project is going more smoothly than i expected. i already have a couple designs in my mind. i’d say it’d take maybe a month or so if i substitue my sleep enough with coffee.” wwx says.

“do not strain yourself.” lwj replies.

“rich coming from you.” wwx’s lip quirks, “you passed out on me yesterday. oh what could have caused that? i don’t think it was sleep deprivation and overworking because you’d never do that.”

it feels like lwj is being scolded.

“wei ying-“

“lan zhan, are you alright?” wwx asks sincerely, “i know you said that you weren’t hurt back then when i saw your bruises, but we weren’t friends back then. you were in pain when i met you at wen ning’s parlour. -

- wen qing was oddly iffy about telling jiang cheng about you even though she knows that he’s friends with your brother. you looked so afraid when you thought i was stalking you, which, technically my fault but still. i’m sorry for bringing this up but i’m worried about you. i want to help you, with whatever it is.”

lwj sits in silence for a few moments, flabbergasted. it seems like this is genuinely bothering wwx, and maybe it has for a while now.

“wei ying.” lwj starts, trying to mentally arrange it all in chronological order. “i think there has been a slight misunderstanding. i did not persue conventional modelling because i did not want to be in the public eye.

however, my identity was exposed about a month ago. it made me unnecessarily paranoid which is why wen qing was careful about my information, and i was in turn careful about my surroundings.”

“who the hell-“

“it does not matter now.” lwj says calmingly. he doesn’t need another person trying to beat su she up.

wwx fumes silently as lwj continues.

“at wen ning’s parlour i was actually in quite a bit of pain.” lwj says. wwx opens his mouth but lwj cuts him off. “yes, it was due to overwork, and yesterday can be attributed to the same cause. but it does not happen as often as you’re thinking, i promise.”

wwx mulls this over. “ok fine. don’t think i didn’t notice you skipped over the bruises though. they can’t be from overwork so either someone did that to you or-“

“it is..” lwj says, forcing the words out, “as you thought that day.”

he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he doesn’t want wwx to have any misconceptions. and well, if he sacrifices his own peace of mind for wwx, it is most likely worth it in the end.

“you mean...” wwx swallows, “you–“

seeing him struggle so much with the words makes it easier for lwj to blurt them out somehow.

“i like restraints, yes.”

this does not bring an end to the conversation, instead making wwx stutter through even worse versions of it.

“you like– to be tied up– oh my god.” he says, “you- that’s what you meant right? handcuffs, ropes all that- like bdsm? is that what–“

“wei ying. please.” lwj says.

“oh of course. here.” wwx grabs both his wrists with one hand.

lwj stares at him. wwx stares back. what the hell.

...

“oh,” wwx draws back like has been burned, “oh my god i don’t know why i did that. i’m so sorry!”

“wei ying it’s okay.” lwj tries but wwx has now put his face in his hands and does not seem to hear him above his mumbling variations of ‘oh my god’ and ‘i’m so sorry’.

lwj lets him go on for a while before he can’t take it anymore. he puts a gentle hand on wwx’s shoulder. this seems to have the desired effect, both shutting wwx up and making him look up at lwj.

“wei ying, it’s okay.” he repeats.

“no it’s not! what was i even thinking? it’s not okay for me to do that! out of nowhere! god, i must have made you so uncomfortable–“

“i don’t mind.” lwj says.

“how can you not? you should fire me!”

“you are my employer.”

“that’s even worse!”

lwj sighs. wwx seems to be transforming into a puddle of shame right before him. he has to put an end to this or wwx will overthink himself into an early grave. no amount of consoling seems to work though. lwj sighs, it is time for drastic measures.

“i lied.” lwj says. he quickly continues before wwx can officially begin his pity party, “i do have time for a boyfriend.”

“what.” wwx says, drawn out of his stupor with the sudden shift in topic.

“i have time... if it’s you.” lwj says and then immediately wants to adapt wwx’s head in hands coping mechanism. “now we are even.”

wwx seems to be dissecting his sentence to make sense of it. “oh. OH.”

“i should go home.” lwj rises from his chair. just as he is turning away, wwx grabs his wrist and pulls him so he’s face-to-face with him.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, his eyes fond, “you’re so.. ugh!”

lwj frowns. ugh. he’s ugh.

“lan zhan!” wwx takes lwj’s face between his palms and grins at him, “do you know i’ve been crushing on you since that day at the university?”

“you have?” lwj asks.

“you really didn’t know?” wwx asks, “lan zhan, lan zhan, do you think a professional jeweller needs weekly fitting appointments?”

“you don’t?” lwj feels just a little stupid.

“not really? i could have made adjustments after i finished everything.”

“you like me?” lwj asks. for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that his crush could be reciprocated.

“yes!” wwx shifts from one foot to another eagerly, “can i hug you now?”

lwj nods and is drawn into wwx’s arms. wwx presses his nose into the space between lwj’s neck and shoulder. lwj holds his shoulders, glad that he can hide his red face in wwx’s hoodie

wwx sighs, his breath tickles on lwj’s skin.

“will you stay with me tonight?” and when lwj is silent for two seconds,

“not like that! it’s innocent! like a sleepover! i won’t tie you up i promise– lan zhan please shut me up i beg you–“

lwj draws back, simply places a gentle kiss on wwx’s lips and says, “don’t ever shut up.”

The End!

as for any loose ends:

- lwj manages to gain his anonymity back

- su she manages not to get beaten up by wwx or nmj but does get a restraining order

- wwx completes his collection and it’s a success! the best part is that he is holding the hand that started it all!

This fic has a nsfw one-shot on ao3 if any of you want to read it :)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/25827673

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient For You, pt.3

Hello everyone! I think it’s time for part 3! Not much else to say except thank you if you’re reading my self-indulgent shit.

Word Count: 1,382

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: Just swearing. Again lol.

Part 1      Part 2      Part 4    Part 5   Part 6

@chims-kookies

A few days went by without so much as a mention of the three heroes stopped in your town. You were working peacefully, legs kicking in rhythm like they always did.

You weren't thinking much about anything but the email you received, telling you to prepare a two-minute piece for your audition and to be at the airport at 6:00 am Friday, two weeks from now.

Your excitement couldn't be contained and when the store was empty, you were belting out songs, trying to find a good range and tempo for your voice.

"Afternoon, Shouna!" Your coworker exclaimed. "You look super excited." She hung up her jacket and clocked in on the register.

"More than super excited! I got a call from Producer X last night!" You twirled happily in circles.

"Woah! What!? You got a call from him?"

"Yeah! He wants me to fly out and audition for his new singing show."

"That's incredible! I'm excited for you! Oh, and you can head to lunch now."

---------

When you returned, there was only one customer in the store. His back was turned and his head was down, scanning the drinks. You almost didn't recognize him when he was all dressed down but there was a stutter in your breath as you realized it was Ground Zero.

This ass has no shame, does he? He was just rude to me like three days ago and he's back in the store? There are other convenience stores.

You took your time clocking back in so you wouldn't have to deal with him, but he was still standing motionless. Until you walked behind the counter, that is. He whipped around completely and suddenly, eyes boring into you, making your skin crawl. There was a tense moment before he spoke.

"Oi. Which one of these has more electrolytes?" There was none of the venom from a few days ago in his voice as he held up the drinks awkwardly.

You almost scoffed out loud. 

Does he really care about that? What kind of question-

Your train of thought was interrupted by him clearing his throat.

"Uh, they both have the same amount," you called back. Is he...trying to make small talk?

You recognized the signs immediately. He could've asked your coworker. He could've said, oh, maybe literally anything else that wasn’t weird but instead he chose to ask a weird question to you specifically.

"Feh. I'll take them both then." He sat them on the counter with an attitude, arms crossing.

Jesus actual christ.

Under the bright store lights, his limpid eyes gleamed. A heat broke out on the back of your neck.

His stare was imposing, but he seemed somehow relaxed. Without a scowl and a mask covering his face, you couldn't help but notice his boyish charm and the way a calmness claimed his face.  A sharp jawline, but otherwise young features. He had to be in his early twenties just like you.

And he was...stunning? Absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He wasn't frowning or making a fuss. You didn't realize how much beauty pent-up anger could take from someone.

What the actual fuck are you thinking Shouna? He's still an ass. Ring him up and get him the hell out of here.

But you looked again with a hand on his drink, about to swipe it.

His crossed arms were perfectly chiseled, veins and muscle perched almost delicately atop them. His pale complexion was perfectly flawless. His collar bones peeked out from his tank top and his shoulders were so defined you could almost see the sinew beneath the skin.

This boy was fucking stacked, and the way the glow from the descending sun bounced off his skin made him look like an angel. A really buff angel.

There was clearly breath entering your lungs but it felt like you hadn't taken a breath in months. Your mouth was going dry with your heavying breath, nerves taking over. By now you were sure he noticed your sudden change in demeanor, face growing red.

Oh god. Am I...sweating?

There was a struggle to keep your grip on the second bottle and move quickly. He took his eyes from the drinks in front of him and looked up at you, raising an eyebrow smartly. He was about to say something annoying, you were sure.

"Did you forget how to ring stuff up?" He mocked.

You smiled. You deal with rowdy customers all the time. This is no different.

But good lord it was so different. Your heart was racing, blood finding its way to the surface of your skin.

"No. I'm just not feeling well," you lied.

He stared at you for a moment, an inquisitive look on his face.

"If you're sick you shouldn't be at work." He replied shortly and snatched the bag from your hand."It's probably from walking around in this weather without a jacket."

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes on the register as you told him his total, his hand still on the bag.

Don't look at his hands don't look at his hand don't look at them-

Shit. Too late. They were big with long fingers and prominent veins. Your heart was going fifty miles a minute and all you could hear as you replied was the blood rushing in your ears. And why was it so hot? Was your hair always causing such a wave of heat on your face? Did you always feel like you were going to burst into flames?

"It-isn't contagious. It'll be 650-" He didn't wait until you were finished to drop a few bills on the counter.

"Make sure you eat something. You're pale."

He gave you a once-over, sending you into a frenzy. "And sweaty." 

He looked nothing if not disgusted as he walked out without another glance in your direction.

It was like he placed a spell on you. Your breath returned to your chest and your temperature sank back down to a normal one as soon as he was out the door.

"I'm not pale," you huffed, placing a shaky hand to your hot face. "I pride myself on my glowing skin."

In the midst of all the nerves and embarrassment, you'd forgotten about your coworker.

"What. Was. That!?" She motioned. There were many days well-spent goofing off with her and she knew you like the back of her hand.

"That was the most painful transaction I've ever seen you complete. You're really bad at hiding when you like someone."

"Shut up! I don’t like him! I don't even know him. I just know he's an ass," you snarled, taking offense to her implications.

"A cute one though, yeah? You like 'em a little trashy right? A little rough around the edges?" She teased, making big sweeping motions with her arms and shouldering up to you.

"Well you're not wrong about that. But-"

"He was the one that asked for free drinks the other day right? I could tell as soon as you mentioned it to me." A smile pulled at the edges of her mouth.

All you could do was sigh. You supposed you really should've seen this coming. You were very keen on the underdog types. Rough dudes who no one else seemed to like, guys who were- wow. The revelation struck. You liked assholes. You fucking loved them. If they even looked like they were capable of being a dick, you were all over it.

"Literally everything about him is your type! He's all tall and handsome and probably doesn't like anyone or anything in the world.." She kept teasing until you spoke up.

"Look, I'm not ashamed of who's my type. It's just- he's so fucking irritating." Your grip on the counter tightened.

A stare out the window revealed that he'd really left. As if he'd be standing there. He wasn't even nice. There were literally no redeeming qualities. Not one.

"If it makes you feel any better, he didn't say a single word until you clocked in." "Wow! It doesn't!" You exclaimed sarcastically.

She spent the rest of the shift teasing you, noticing the way your head involuntarily poked up every time the bell went off. 

You spent the rest of the shift with Ground Zero’s messy blonde hair and alluring red eyes in your mind.

[fanatic1997]

Cup of Coffee

Summary: It was finals week and you’re TA, Tom, found you stressed out at the library studying for your lab final. So naturally, he decides to help you, after all you are his favorite student. Things get a bit interesting when you start using him as a model to point out certain organs and muscles.

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: NSFW!

Words: 3,000

You flipped through your study guide looking over all the muscles and organ systems you were supposed to have memorized by 9:00 am tomorrow morning. You could feel a headache rapidly forming behind your eyes from staring at all the images you had taken during lab.

You rubbed the back of your neck, it was almost 11:00pm and the library was still full of stressed students studying for finals. You heard a couple of students yawning but everybody there knew they wouldn’t be going home any time soon. You felt almost a kinship with the rest of the students sitting at other tables, hairs disheveled from running their hands through it, dark circles under their eyes and papers spread across their study tables.

You turned your phone in all different directions to try to understand where a particular muscle was in the leg. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand where the pectineus muscle was located. You groaned, you were probably going to fail your final and you dropped your head into your hands, fully preparing yourself for the damage you were about give your GPA.

“You seem like you need this more than I do,” you heard a soft voice say.

You looked up to the familiar face of your TA and you could feel your face rapidly heating up from being caught in such a vulnerable state. Plus, it didn’t help that Tom was the reason why you were struggling so hard in your Human A&P lab.  

Your professor had allowed Tom, your teacher’s assistant, to spear head most of the labs, especially teaching the class where all the organs, bones and muscles were located on models.

In all honesty, it was really hard to stay focused on where he was pointing on the models when all you could focus on was the flexing and relaxing of his biceps. Now that muscle you had understood quiet intimately.

You knew you weren’t the only one in the class that was crushing on Tom. He was sweet and he really tried to make sure everybody understood the subject. Plus, his accent didn’t help the situation at all. The amount of girls swooning over him were not in short supply and you had to bite your tongue every time one of your class mates made a pass at him. But he would turn them down nicely, stating that he couldn’t possibly afford to buy them and the rest of the class coffee since he didn’t have favorites.

But you liked to think that you were his favorite. It might be your imagination running wild but it seemed like Tom lingered at your work bench a little longer than the rest explaining models to you. He would even hover over your shoulder while you were filling out worksheets. Or maybe he just thought you were an idiot that desperately needed help

When it came down to the reproductive system, the whole class fell just a little bit more in love with Tom when he could barely point at the male and especially the female parts without blushing. Blame your wild mind, but you could have sworn Tom was purposely avoiding your eyes during that particular lab.

And now your very adorable TA was standing in front of you looking like a beacon of hope while you struggled to remember anything from your lab besides the rippling of his muscles.

Tom placed the cup of coffee in front of you. “You look like you might need some help,” Tom gave you a small smile as he saw the study guide in front of you basically dripping in highlighter.

You watched Tom waive off his friends, telling them that his favorite student was in need. You watched the group nod before walking off. What you didn’t see was the group pushing Tom towards you when they had seen you at one of the tables when they had first walked into the library. Nor did you see them tell Tom to give you his coffee. Nor did you see them throw smirks from behind you when they had walked off to leave the two of you alone.

“Is my hopelessness showing again,” you cracked a small, smile. Maybe making light of your situation would help you get over this “L” you were about to take.

“Maybe just a little, love.” Tom eyes crinkled as he threw you an amused smile. He pulled up a chair next to you and looked over your study guide. “So what do you need help with first?” he asked, leaning over to you to look at your mess of worksheets.

The next 30 minutes were spent with Tom teaching you all the muscles and organs on the pictures you had taken of the models. You tried your best to understand and memorize all the locations but it was just not sticking.

“Alright, which is organ is this one,” Tom tapped on your phone screen to the torso of a model. You looked at it and then you racked your brain for the answer. When your mind came back blank, you groaned and threw your head into your hands.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s me.” You groaned. “I just can’t get my mind wrapped around it.”

Tom pulled your hands down from your face. “Maybe you just need the physical models.” Tom looked over your sheets on the table. Tom bit his lip slightly. You stared at the bit of lip between his teeth. He had yet to let go of your hands as well.

“I can open up one of the labs and we can go practice on the models. I feel like it’ll help solidify your learning?” Tom whispered while leaning in closer to you. He wasn’t technically supposed to be opening up labs for students.

You could barely muster a nod while Tom stared into your eyes and held your hands in his.

You quickly packed up your stuff, receiving a few stares from your fellow stressed students in the library for making too much noise. Some of them threw you envious looks thinking that you were finished studying when they had a long night waiting for them.

Tom opened the door to the science building, ushering you in before the two of you made your way to the science labs. Tom looked around the hallway before sliding in the key to one of the labs. The whole building seemed empty but the lights were still on.

The two of you walked in and Tom opened the cabinets to slide out the models. You slid your book bag off and sat down at a workbench. You opened your book bag and pulled out your study guide while Tom sat the models in front of you.

“Alright love, let’s start with the muscles,” he pulled out a model and quickly made work to point them out to you. Then he took a seat and asked you to stand up and try to teach him where they were. You felt a bit nervous when it was your turn but Tom was right, having the physical models was much easier than looking at diagrams and worksheets. You could feel yourself flush when Tom watched you intently but the smile he threw your way when he recognized your nerves only gave you confidence.

“Okay, how about the flexor carpi radialis?” Tom asked raising an eyebrow. He knew this muscle was tricky on the model. He watched you fumble around panicking for few seconds before standing up to try to point it out to you.

“Wait… I know it’s this muscle on the arm,” you said turning to point it out on his forearm. You traced the muscle pointing it out to Tom. You didn’t want to look completely stupid in front of your crush; you were just not used to the models really. You were so busy racking your brain to make sure you were right that you didn’t notice Tom swallow thickly feeling you run your fingers almost temptingly slow up his arm.

“You’re right, it is that muscle. On the model, its number 33.” Tom voiced reluctantly. You nodded, reaching for the model to look at the numbers and then scribbling it down on your study guide once you had located it.

A little while later, Tom had moved on to reviewing the organ systems. The only one left on the list to review was the reproductive system. You could tell Tom was hesitating and you looked down at your phone to see that it was already 2:00 am. You could feel your guilt wash over for taking so much of Tom’s time.

“Tom, we should get going. I’m sure you have finals you want to study for and I feel so much better about my final already. I can just wing the reproductive system,” you smiled tiredly.

Tom’s presence was stronger than caffeine so you had managed to put off your tiredness ‘til now. But all great things must come to an end eventually.

Tom gave you almost a sad smile. Honestly, being one on one with you was worth putting off his studying. Even if he had told everybody else that he didn’t have favorites, you were his. You were smart and witty. He had seen your grades in lecture and he knew you were top of your class. Why you were struggling now was beyond him. He hoped that maybe you had been distracted in lab as much as he was by you. He had been working up his courage all semester to ask you out.

“I can cover the pretty fast if you want me to?” Tom eyes pleaded. He just didn’t want this night to end just yet.

Neither did you so you nodded. You watched as Tom pulled out the model of the female vulva and the male penis. You could feel your cheeks heating up and you took comfort in the slight pink orbs that stained Tom’s cheeks as well.  

“So this is the glans, also known as the head. The shaft which has 2 corpus cavernosums running through it. The corpus spongiosum surrounds the urethra. The scrotal sack is at the base which contains the testes. Remember, the testes are surrounded by the albunea tunica….”

“Wait, what are the functions of the corpus cavernosum,” you crinkled your eyebrows confused.

You watched Tom swallow thickly before answering. “They fill up with blood and ultimately allow the penis to become erect,” Tom answered quietly.

You felt your cheeks heat up immediately and you had to look away from Tom’s eyes that had almost melted into pools of an emotion you couldn’t quite place. You could see your reflection is his dilated pupils.

Blame your college hormones or even your sleep deprived mind, but you continued on this path of self destruction. “What causes them to engorge,” you whispered.

Tom could barely hold back. This was his moment; he could literally feel it if the tightening of his briefs was any indication. “physical stimulation of the glans or just the thought of…. Of sex” he replied.

And in that instant, it was like a light switch was flipped off in your brain and you threw all caution to the wind as you felt Tom grab your arm and pull you into him. You felt his hand guide your lips to his and his other hand slid slightly up your shirt to rest on the bottom of your back.

Your adorable TA left a searing trail of kisses from your lips to your neck and all you could do was gasp at the feel of him nipping your collarbone.

“I’m not sure if you can tell love, but my corpus cavernosum is pretty engorged,” he breathed out. You could definitely feel the culprit pressing against your thigh.

“Can… can I see it? I’ve never …. seen a real one before,” you could almost roll your eyes at your lameness. But you’d be damned if you wasted this opportunity and anyways, wasn’t this the best stress reliever?

Tom hesitated for a moment, biting his lip to ponder whether this was such a good idea. He didn’t want just a hook up and you almost took back what you had said but then he seemed throw all caution to the wind just like you and quickly unbuckled his belt and unhooked the button of his pants.

The awkwardness of being in a classroom and pulling his member out was almost enough to make him go limp but your closeness kept his erection going.

His low rise briefs made your mouth water and his erection almost peeked out from the slit. You looked at Tom, asking for permission and he nodded giving you full access. His head lolled back when you slightly tugged his member from the slit of his briefs. He thought you would have slid his briefs down to see it but this way was almost more erotic; like you couldn’t be bothered to fully remove his clothing.

You watched Tom clench his jaw as you ran your finger up his shaft. “This is the shaft, and this is the glans,” you said, almost in a haze. He bit his cheek when you encircled the head. “The urethral opening is right here,” you pointed out. You returned to running your fingers up and down his shaft, not fully grasping it which only frustrated Tom some more. “The corpus cavernosa are fully engorged now,” you stated to your TA with full confidence and all Tom could manage was a simple nod. His eyes were closed, completely focused on your kitten strokes. He desperately wanted to further this activity.

Tom swallowed thickly, “actually, it can become even more engorged during longer stimulation.” He finally looked at you. His pupils were blown completely out of proportion and you finally recognized the look in his eyes as lust.

You finally wrapped your whole hand around Tom’s shaft. Tom’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before letting out a soft groan.

Blame your overly exhausted mind. Or maybe the recent amount of dopamine that had just been released into your brain. Nothing would be able to explain the surge of confidence that overtook you as you knelt in front of him wrapped your mouth around his dick. Tom’s eyes bulged as he looked down at you. You looked back up at him. “Darling you don’t have to,” Tom said almost painfully. You’re only response was to bob your head and Tom seemed to accept your answer as he rolled his head back and groaned softly.

You covered Tom’s shaft with your hand and pumped while your mouth worked his head. You swirled your tongue around, not really knowing exactly what you were supposed to do since this was your first time pleasing somebody. You did your best to work at the spots that seemed to make Tom tense. Tom could tell it was your first time going down on someone but he took pride in knowing he was your first. So he was more vocal with you; groaning when you found a particular sensitive spot which he noted didn’t take you very long. He almost came, just thinking of the fact that you were a natural at this.

You felt his hand that had found his way into your hair, massage your scalp slightly. You were a bit surprised at your own arousal that pooled heat into your core at doing this.

It didn’t take long for you to really hit the jackpot and you felt Tom’s fingers tighten their hold and he shifted his hand to your cheek to pull you impossibly closer. Curiosity overcame you and you removed your other hand that had been working his shaft and opened your mouth to try to fit as much of him in you, just to see if you could manage to fit all of him in your mouth. As you mouth covered most of his dick, you licked with your tongue as much as you could and sucked on him slightly. Tom seemed to like that because he had to reach back and hold onto the workbench as his knees buckled. You did a couple of more deep throats before you felt Tom slightly tug at your hair to get you to look at him. “Darling, I’m close,” he said softly. He didn’t want cum in your mouth, especially since you hadn’t tasted cum before. It wasn’t for everybody.

Tom was a bit surprised when you only nodded and continued to bob your head. His surprise washed away quickly when he felt his balls tighten as your lovely mouth had taken his whole girth. Another stroke and Tom saw stars as his orgasm over took him. His head fell back as he supported his weight on the bench behind him. His body seemed to convulse even stronger than any other time. He felt his dick spurt his cum into your mouth.

You watched Tom groan out your name as you felt his thick liquid spurt into your mouth. You continued to pump his member through his orgasm and you swallowed as much as you could. You finally stopped pumping him when he had finished cumming.

“Darling, that was amazing,” Tom breathed. He helped you back up and he quickly adjusted himself and pulled his pants back up. “Please can I…., can I return the favor.” If you had thought Tom’s pupils couldn’t dilate more due to lust, you were completely mistaken.

…

Let’s just say that you passed your lab final with flying colors the next morning. And the blush that seemed to permanently stain your cheeks while your TA walked around the classroom, throwing you a small smile when your eyes met, only served to remind you of the best sleep, although a bit short, you’ve had during finals.

You walked out of your final, feeling confident in your grade, coffee cup, purchased by Tom that morning, in hand.

Part 2

My first NSFW, let me know what you think ;) Also, picture is not mine. I had to repost due to some technical difficulties. Im not sure why it’s not showing up in the searches so please share if you can:)

[misstring]

The Secret I Almost Uncovered (Tim Drake x Reader)

Reader Gender: There is no mention of any gender.

Warnings: Nothing particular that stands out.

Synopsis: Security guards at museums working graveyard shifts have one of the most reports to do with broken glass, burglaries, and vigilantes falling through the glass roof.

Other notes: Reader is working as a security guard and at a cafe.

Working at a museum is like working in another world, all of the tools, mummies, paintings, and other priceless artifacts take you back into time. Working a graveyard shift as a security guard in a museum that is located in the heart of Gotham is like working with electrons. An electron can be anywhere at any point of time, likewise, at any moment, lights can flash by the windows, a window can crack, or even, on occasion, a vigilante, not Batman, will fall through the ceiling.

Tonight, it was a Ti--I mean-- Drake that fell through the ceiling. At least I think it is. All I see is brown and going from process of elimination, Batman--dark blue or black--, Nightwing--in Bludhaven but otherwise blue, very blue--, Red Hood--red and gray, generally--, and the little guy, Robin,--bright red and green, to the point you can see him from across the city if you are high up enough-- it is. There is also the fact that he stayed on the floor for 15 minutes before he actually got up and took a deep breath in and sighed.

I brought over a first-aid kit but by the time I managed to gather up the courage to speak to him, he vanished leaving a note reading 'Sorry, will have a check sent to fix it later'

I mean, sure. They all did that and who sent the check? Batman? No. Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne. Since when did they have a connection with him? Is it part of the job? There were times when the Waynes would donate large sums of money to help out organizations and there were stories of when someone from that family helps out an average citizen in Gotham, struggling to make a living.

Ah, Gotham. I call it the City of Perpetual Darkness. It can be night and it'll be dark, during the day when the sun is shining down as bright as it can, the pollution is enough to darken the sky. People cough, left, right, and center, there is crime happening behind every building, in alleyways, and, ever since Batman showed up, a crazy lunatic rallied up a bunch of people and used the symbol of fun and laughter for fear and terror--an author wrote a horror story of one in the sewers, luring kids in--haven’t read it, heard it was good.

I finished brushing up the shattered glass, which scattered the floor. After taping the location off and writing the report, I ended my shift as the next guy started. I nod, my eyes already partially closing as I haven't been able to sleep with the mayhem the past couple of days. He sighs out as he reads my report. I sign out and leave.

Gotham is never safe for anyone. You can be Oswald Cobblepot and still be in danger. Last I know, someone saw him fighting Red Hood. That was a while ago, though. See, there's a danger for everyone, yet no one wants to leave. It has this addictive aura where once you are hooked, the symptoms of leaving are withdrawing into oneself, looking off into the distance towards Gotham City for extended periods of time, and feeling like a part of your soul is missing.

I look up. People scream all the time, but this one was different. It was not the normal scream of fear or joy, rather a yell of frustration. I'm intrigued. Watching people in pain? Not my thing. Trying to help out someone in trouble? Last time I did that, I was sent to the hospital for several weeks and undergone several surgeries. I am perfectly healthy now and I do not want to ruin that streak. Do I dare, though, a quick glance as to the source of this cry?

The alleyway comes up. I dare, more than a quick glance.

Brown, that almost blended in with the dirt but the shine of the golden stripes gave him away. I stay silent and watch as he taps the brick wall and asks "Why?" He looks up again and aims a gun towards the sky. A grappling hook shoots out of the open end, into the sky and grabs onto the top of the building. He pulls on it and it falls off the building. He falls on his back and sighs. He moves his hand towards his ear and says "Will be late, taking a nap," before falling asleep in the middle of Gotham.

Where are his parents?!

A small figure scales down the building and lands next to Drake. He looks down, slaps Drake a bit and says, "Drake, get up," rather loud and it echoes off the wall. The little figure looks at me. "What do you want? I will kill you if you take another step towards us."

I look around me, no one. Who is he talking to? Oh, wait. He's talking to me!

"Yes, I am talking to you, " he had a sword out in front of him. "Stop looking around like a bumbling idiot."

Okay, he's a rude one.

Before I can answer, Drake gets up and stops the little one from charging at me. He looks at me with recognition and smiles, “You’re that security guard from the glass-roofed museum. Thank you for always bringing us the first aid kit when we fall through the roof.”

The little one exclaims something, but I do not listen; my phone is ringing. I answer my phone and my boss yelled at me, asking where I was. I glance at the time, I ran.

I got into the shop 10 minutes later than usual, but I managed to sneak in a small nap before starting my shift. One of my co-workers had taken cover for an hour into my shift and I started later than usual. He hands me a macchiato with four shots of espresso, my favorite. I thank him and I clock in. It was still dark outside, a couple of hours before anyone in the city would even start to trickle in.

“Hello, what would you like today?” I say, as a small figure comes to the front. I recognized him, Robin, or the little one.

He looks at the board and then at me, “May I have a--” his face showed surprise before it was replaced by his normal scowl, “Oh, it’s you.”

I nod.

He just sighs and asks, “May I bring in Drake so he can rest in the corner?”

I looked to the back, no one was there. Everyone left and I was the only one in the store, aside from the little one. “Yes.”

Relief spreads through his otherwise tense expression. He goes outside and half carries a partially unconscious man. “Come on, Drake,” he whispers out, trying to carry the taller man, but only succeeding in keeping him upright and dragging across the floor. I hurry over and help him onto a bench, bringing him a blanket I kept in my locker for my naps.

His head turns towards Robin and he asks, “You promised to get me coffee.”

Robin clicks his tongue and scowls, “Tell me that when you slept for more than 20 minutes per night. I do not care if your friends are in danger, or if you have to solve this case to save hundreds. If you cannot take care of yourself, you cannot take care of anyone else.”

“Dami,” He whispers out before falling asleep.

He turns towards me and apologizes for the inconvenience. I offer him a cup of hot chocolate and he deepens his scowl. “I am not a child.”

“I never said you were,” I say, fixing myself a cup of hot chocolate alongside the other one. I place the cup in front of him and as I drink my drink at the front. No one really cared except for the owner, who was not in at the moment.

Police sirens whiz by and Robin stands up, “Someone will be back for him,” he says, leaving the café through the front door.

I collect the two empty cups. He may act like an adult but he still had his childlike innocence within him, minuscule, but prevailing. What an interesting turn of events.

I wash the dishes and as I set the cups on the drying rack to dry, Tim-- I mean-- Drake sits up and shouts, “Damian!” He looks around with his eyes wide as he realized two things: 1. He wasn’t in his safe house or wherever he goes after the vigilante work, and 2. He just gave away Robin’s secret identity. Or maybe more, but I wouldn’t know.

“Good to see that you are alive. Robin said someone would be here for you soon,” I say, picking up my Wonder Woman blanket from the floor--she is a great person, Princess Diana, if you ever get the chance to meet and talk with her.

“I-- Where am I?” he asks me.

I smile and point to the top of the menu which had the store name.

“Who are you?” he asks me, looking intently at my face.

“I can ask the same for you, Timothy Drake-Wayne. You aren’t what you show yourself to be.”

“Actually,” he says without missing a beat, “My name is Drake because Tim Drake gave me my name. He insisted that I use Drake. What am I, a duck?”

I burst out laughing. “What? Is your name Alvin, or something silly like that?”

He looks at me with seriousness coated over his face. “How did you know?”

How did I know? How did I know what? His name? “It was a random guess,” I still my laughter.

He sighs and as sirens whiz by in the opposite direction, he says, “Well, I’ve got to go. Hope business is well,” He leaves through the door calling out, “Thank you for letting me take a nap here.”

“Wait!” I call out behind him, but it was too late.

Gotham has many secrets. Some are buried with people, others buried through lies. I tried to uncover them. The mystery shrouding the vigilantes; I was so close to uncovering one, so close to blowing out the cloud from my vision before my one chance slipped through my fingers.

Why do I still love this city?

---Fin.

Thank you for reading! This is also published on wattpad and ao3.

[jinkisbelly]

Solace 2/?

Pairing: Onew/oc, Onho

Raiting: pg:13 for the moment

W/c: 2k

Summary: All Jinki has ever known is written away with a few signatures arranging his mating with the future Chief of Pack Choi.

Warnings: Mpreg, omegaverse, you know the deal

First part

Can read on Ao3 and AFF as well

          Jonghyun gently tossed another log onto the fire before returning to his seat beside Jinki, who handed him his plate of food once again. The moon was pretty, even with how little of it was illuminated up in the sky. There were three other fires in a half-circle at the base of the mountain. Farthest away were most of the pack Choi’s guards, then the most senior members of their pack directly to the right of the firepit they were sitting around. To their left was another group of guards from Jinki’s pack, all volunteers to protect him. Around this small fire with him was Jonghyun and his two closest guards, Kibum and Jongin, all betas. He had known all of them for so long, he was extremely relieved they all wished to come with him.

          Starting in the morning they’d head up the mountain, beginning the harshest part of their journey. A part of Jinki was excited, for he had already added five new flowers to his journal, the delicate petals pressed between it’s pages. The bigger part of him was uneased. He could feel the beginnings of his heat, the tingles along his skin, the headache that always formed leading up to it, and dull ache all over his body. It was coming, and it was soon, and Jinki wished with all his might he could be back home in his nest, safe and warm. 

          He looked up from his now empty plate when Kibum growled from his position to the left of him. Following the gaze of the guard, he found his intended mate's younger brother, Minho. He flashed a little smile, a bowl held in his hands. “I just came to see if you wanted more stew.”

          “No, thank you.” 

          He bowed his head, the firelight flickering over his soft features. “We have extra blankets if anyone may need them. It’ll get colder here than you’re used to.” 

          Jinki placed his plate on the ground beside him, folding his hands in his lap and nodding with a smile. “If you could have them brought over, I’ll pass them out to my men. Thank you.”

          “Will do.”

----

          Jonghyun leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, gazing as Jinki stepped over to take the blankets from the younger Choi brother. While both of the brothers were Alphas, there was something about Minho that made Jonghyun less likely to want to attack him if he got close to Jinki. Sooner or later, he’d figure out the skin-crawling feeling he got around Myungdae, but until then he’d focus on making this as easy as possible for his friend. As Jinki walked toward the fire their other guards were to pass out blankets, Minho bowed his head in Jonghyun’s direction before heading back to his family. 

          Jinki had barely had time to wrap his extra blanket around his shoulders and return to sit on the log before Jonghyun was commenting. “He seems nice.” 

          “Who?” Jonghyun tapped the blanket tips brushing against his thigh with how close they were sitting. “Oh, Minho? Yes, he does.” 

          The tips of Jinki’s ears were a bit red in the light of the fire, but whether that was from the conversation or the nip in the air, Jonghyun couldn’t tell you. “It’s alright to find him pretty.” 

          “Jonghyun!” Jinki hissed, elbowing him hard into the side. “I’m to mate with his brother.” 

          “There’s no harm in looking!” He huffed, scowling as he rubbed his side. “Why must you hurt me?” 

          “Not my fault you bruise like a peach, Jongie.” 

          He wheezed dramatically. “So mean.”

-----

          Laying over his thighs were his arrows as he ran his fingers over them before choosing one to inspect more closely. The leaves crunched under the pair of boots stepping into his peripheral vision, but before he could look up, a deep voice asked, “What do you need a weapon for?” 

          Following the boots up long legs and finally up to a very serious scowling expression twisting a handsome face. “What is the reason most people have weapons, Myungdae?” 

          The Alpha scuffed, arms crossing over his chest and the leather of his jacket creaking at the motion. “You have no need to defend yourself. That’s what the guards are for.”

          “I’ve saved many of the people who volunteered to come with me to your Pack. Maybe you’ll be the next person that me having a weapon saves.” With a shrug, Jinki deposited his arrows into the quiver and threw it over his shoulder as he stood with his bow in his left hand. A small smile is flashed up at him, a hand moving across his chest as Myungdae’s hands fall to his sides once again. The scowl melted from his face, dark eyes flicking up from Jinki’s hand to his face. “I think you should go check on your horse.”

          “Why?” Myungdae breathed out, breath swirling slightly visible in the cool morning air. 

          “Because your horse just ran away from your servant.” 

          “WHAT!” 

          If asked, Jinki did NOT giggle as the man twisted roughly and sprinted toward the escaping horse.

-----

          The snow was heavily falling now, shelter shifting from bedrolls and fur skin tents to caves. Minho leans against the front of it, the stone was cold and rough against his side, as he watches the omega and his beta friend throwing snowballs at each other down the slight hill from the cave. It’s obvious neither have seen snow, let alone this amount of the white freezing substance. It’s easy to fall into his thoughts about the omega, Jinki he reminds himself. He shouldn’t indulge in such thoughts, about how pretty the man is or how much he wishes he could ask what the beads in his hair mean, because he’s promised to his older brother. From the moment he had seen Jinki in that Great Hall, he was smitten, but he hoped the infatuation, the attraction, would go away as time kept moving.  

          He knows his brother has stepped up just behind him even before the man speaks. “Why has the hunt been canceled?” 

          Without looking away from Jinki, who was laughing as he fell backward into the snow after taking a snowball to the face, Minho pointed toward the fire pit just outside of the cave. The fire pit had been dug into the frozen ground and taken care of for years, to help cook meat and other things during travels up and down the mountain. “A buck was already shot for dinner.” 

          “Who?”

          “Your future mate.” 

          “What?” Minho finally slipped his gaze from the scene before him to look at his brother, raising an eyebrow as the man continued. “Who gave him the authority to go hunt?”

          “He was playing, Brother.”

          “Playing?”

          “Yes,” Minho gestured with an open palm to the source of the distant laughter, “Playing. Before anyone could think of assisting he had the buck skidding to a halt in the snow. Charged in because of the commotion it seemed.” 

          Minho wasn’t sure what he expected, but his brother giving a bark of a laugh was not it. “Nice try to pull one over. I bet it was those two tall guards of his.”

          “I assure you it was him. I saw it with my own two eyes.” Myungdae pressed his lips together, brow furrowing. “It seems you got yourself a very capable mate.” 

          He shook his head in disbelief as Myungdae twisted on his heel and headed deeper into the cave. Minho turned his attention back onto the wolves playing down below and smiled as the scene of a very damp Jinki scaling the hill came into view. He wiggled out of his jacket as he took a step closer to greet them. Jinki looked up, cheeks and nose red, his ears sticking out from his hair the same shade of rouge. “Hello.”

          “Here, this will help.” He pushed it once more when Jinki tried to refuse. Minho only let his hand fall back to his side after the man had taken the piece of clothing and pulled it on, his damp furs being passed to the Beta beside him. 

          “Thank you.” 

          “You need it more than me. Go sit by the fire to dry off completely. Food will be ready soon.”

          As Jinki walked away, holding the jacket tight around his shoulders, he glanced back, a smile on his face. So damn pretty, Minho wished he could scream. This was bad. Very bad. 

-----

          There were a dozen or so guards still awake, some at the opening of the cave and a few patrolling the land outside. They were half of his own people, the other from the Lee’s. He didn’t hold it against the other pack for not trusting his pack with protecting them all. Minho lazily moved his eyes over the cave, expecting only to see people in varying positions of slumber, but as far as you could go up against the wall, was Jinki sitting up. He had a lantern to his left, hair gathered over his right shoulder and fingers moving through the strands doing something it was too dark to make out. Against Minho’s better judgment he found himself pushing up from his sleeping bag. Making his way over without stepping on someone was a feat, but he managed.

          Jinki slowly looked up and it was unfair how beautiful he was even in the simple flicker of lantern light. Minho’s heart did the flipping thing as Jinki smiled. “I didn’t think anyone else was awake.” 

          “I find it hard to sleep in caves.” Minho quietly states, running a hand through his hair nervously. “The echoes freak me out.” 

          “Ah.” Jinki’s hands had fallen into his lap, covered by a blanket. For some reason, he looks to his right at whoever is sleeping beside him, before looking up with an even brighter smile. “Playing in the snow earlier has messed up my braids. You’re welcome to keep me company while I rebraid them.” 

          Folding his legs underneath him, it’s easy to relax across from Jinki. It’s then he sees the small blue bag, a few beads visible in the opening. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are those beads for? I see many of your people with them.” 

          “Oh, these?” He lifts the one he just removed from his hair between his finger and thumb. When Minho nods, he continues, “Each is handmade, with a different symbol depicting a feat you’ve overcome. You must earn each one.” 

          “And yours?” 

          Jinki picks the small bag up into his lap to pick one out, twirling it for a moment before holding it out. Squinting Minho can make out what looks like three rippling lines. “I got this when I swam the Rushing river upstream.”

          “What purpose is there to swim upstream?”

          “Gives you great breath control and upper body strength, but it’s mostly a right of passage a lot of wolves take in my pack. Or try to at least.” The bead was replaced, another picked up in it’s place. This one is handed to Minho, to roll down until it stops in his palm. He can feel how important each bead is to Jinki, it makes him grip it a little tighter as he turns it to see the symbol. On this one was a single curved line, a straight one bisecting it perpendicularly. “Archery. The higher you get in the trials, the more lines you have bisecting your bow on the bead.”

          “What’s your highest trial?” 

          “8.” A soft rouge brushes across his cheeks and nose, as his head dips. “I had to get another bead, the lines were too much for one.” 

          Minho gently grabs one of Jinki’s hands, carefully placing the bead in his palm before curling his fingers around it with a smile as the man meets his gaze. “They’re very beautiful. Thank you for sharing something so important to you with me.” 

          “Thank you for asking.” It’s a while later after Jinki’s returned to redoing his hair and putting the beads back that he speaks again, “I don’t think your brother is very fond of this arrangement.” 

          “Are you?”

          “I wish I had more time to get to know him before... Well, you know.” 

          Jinki’s fingers moving, twisting his hair with skilled familiarity, is almost hypnotic to Minho. “There should be more time, but patience as never been a strength of my brother’s or my father for that matter.”

          After the braid is tied, Jinki lets his hair fall back over his shoulder. “Thank you for keeping me company, but I think we should get some sleep. The second watch is about to begin.” 

          Glancing at the cave opening, Minho finds the guards are beginning to return from their patrols. Bowing his head as he raises, he bids Jinki goodbye. “See you in the morning.”

          “Goodnight, Minho.”

-----

[midnight-lightning]

Piece of gold I Part 5

Loki x reader

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

Summary: You live your dream as a worker in the royal library of Asgard, everything would have been normal if there wasn’t a certain prince between the bookshelf’s who’s passion also included books. Of course destiny has decided it was time to bring you two together…

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I am indeed surprised that you're not drunk, brother."

"Well, after all I need a clear head for this mission!" Thor let out a loud laugh and hit pally Loki's shoulder.

To his surprise an amused smile spread upon Loki's face, making Thor silence and after a quiet moment bending towards him.

"Listen, I do notice certain things also, maybe not like our mother but enough to see... what i want to say is I'm glad that you're happy, brother."

Astonished, Loki leaned back watching Thor carefully.

He really hadn't thought that his brother, Thor would say something like that. Let alone the fact he seemed to like her even though Y/N did not fit into the type of woman he had always tried to mash up his brother with.

Loki just took a deep breath, about to give a sarcastic comment when a bundle of brown hair crashed against Thor's chest.

"Please don't do anything stupid, hear me?" Jane said with a stern gaze and Loki nearly let out a laugh.

Thor doing anything that's not stupid?

Nearly impossible.

"Of course not, I'll be back soon, unharmed and with a peace accord, I promise," Thor answered and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, looking so deeply in love, it was embarrassing just to look at them.

Shaking his head Loki made his way away from the ship.

This fool...

His father was already inside, and when Loki turned around he saw that also Thor was entering the ship now.

It closed and only a few seconds later it had vanished with light speed into the darkness of the universe...

"Your highness," said suddenly a voice behind him.

Loki turned around and was more than just surprised to see the library worker, staring at him with a cold gaze.

What was her name again?

"I'm afraid but my mother the queen is responsible for the management of the library-"

"That's not why I'm here for," She cut him off. "Prince Loki, I'm here because of other matters that concern my dear friend Y/N."

"And what might these concerns be, my lady?" Loki asked, his eye shining rather amused.

The woman crossed her armes before her chest and took a step forward. "Listen here, prince or not prince I warn you now, harm Y/N in any ways, even give her a wrong look, I can promise you'll have more to worry than just your reputation."

"It's quite reckless to threaten a prince... or should I say dumb? Don't you think?"

"I'm not threatening. I'm promising. She's my friend, I care about her and I'll even deal with a arrogant prince. Because I don't see the things she sees in you."

Right, Mealla it was.

A strong name, suitable.

Loki wanted to give her one of his dirty smirks, but something just told him, this moment was important. So he remained seriously.

"I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I assume you, my lady Mealla, there's no need for these thoughts. Y/N truly is a good soul and I'd be damned if anything bad happen to her. She'd never get harmed by my hand, nor by someone's else. This I'll promise, but not to you."

Loki watched carefully as Mealla's stern gaze slowly faltered and even her arms were now falling down calmly. A look of uncertainty and surprise appeared instead.

"Well... I hope so. I really do, because... you're making her happier."

Happier... Yes, with her he was indeed happier.

In this moment his eyes shifted away from Mealla and landed coincidentally on something brightly that had caught his gaze, Something orange on the edge of the field near the entrance. Realising the colours of his mother's gown he turned towards her, seeing next to her the one he was unawarely searching for.

Even from this distance Y/N was shining.

"You're making her happier..."

No, she was certainly something special, someone that just didn't fit in his usual world, but somehow still completed it...

And in this moment nothing made Loki happier than seeing her next to his mother, talking and laughing together, knowing that this evening is not over yet.

It's true, he couldn't remember a ball he enjoyed the way he did today.

As if she felt that she'd been watched Y/N s eyes shifted to Loki's.

And she smiled.

And he smiled back.

It was the last time he had seen her before the explosion started and tore her away from him...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

This was not normal.

Neither the smell nor the feeling of hard stones and heat around you.

And this was certainly not your bed...

Your surreal and messy dreams vanished all of sudden as something heavy crashed upon you, taking all the air out of your lungs.

With a load gasp your eyes opened and you found yourself laying beneath a big, heavy something.

The moment you realised it was still alive you pressed disgusted a hand on your mouth, trying not to scream -or vomit- before you pushed the strange creature down of you.

What the hell...?!

Just what was-

"Oh god...," you whispered as you looked around you.

The palace was burning, people running, trying to escape and the guards were fighting against.... some things that looked like half human half... flowers?

Kinda ridiculous

"Oh god!" escaped you once again when you remembered how you landed in this situation!

Loki...

There was Loki, the sweet smile

Mealla- and then- then there was nothing.

The queen!

Your head flinched to your right side, remembering where you've seen her the last time.

But the place was empty...

As fast as you could you stood up, but needed a hold against the cold wall when a dizziness swept over you.

"By Odin's beard I don't have time for this..."

Who knows what had happened to Frigga!

You bend down again to the creature that had hit you and grabbed the sword next to his arm.

It was heavier than what you were used to but it'll be good enough to defend your self. Time to use what your father had taught you...

Squinting your eyes you made your way through the mess, keeping the eyes open for the queen...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Loki's daggers were flying all around, eliminating the creatures, or 'aspens' all around.

The green of his magic once again brightened his area, causing the aspens around him to explode in theirselves.

When the huge explosion had come Loki tried to save himself and some people who stood next to him with his magic.

Of course his shield had done good work as always, but it couldn't reached either of the woman he wanted to be in safety.

So now he was very persistent and frustrated fighting through the mess while he searched for them, hoping nothing too bad had happened to them.

Loki slid under a sword that was directed towards him, taking this opportunity to stab the aspen in his leg, then hitting him once more backsides before the creature finally collapsed.

He was now at the entrance to the palace, the place he had seen her the last time but now there was no hint of neither of them.

"Damn," Loki muttered more to him self before he made his way further into the halls.

What a coincidence that his father and brother went away the exact day the Aspens would attack, He thought grimly, killing off some more of the invader.

The hallway was empty, or without his mother and Y/N

The next was the same

Then- there she was! Both of them and still alive!

Loki nearly stopped in his way when he recognised that Y/N was not hiding afraid, but in fact fighting back!

And in this moment he somehow felt a strange feeling of proudness.

A few steps behind her he saw his mother, killing and fighting grimly with both her magic and her swords.

He fighted through the alive aspens and dead bodies on the ground -both aspens and asgardian soldiers- and next to Y/N.

As soon as Y/Ns gaze fell upon Loki besides her her desperate look vanished and she looked at him with such a hope and relief it nearly tore Loki's hard apart.

"No distractions yet, my dears," Frigga warned them from behind, but Loki heard the smile in her voice. "There are coming more!"

His head snapped into the direction his mother showed and saw the maybe 30 new Aspens, coming to them.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The moment you saw Loki next to you, you nearly started to cry. You thought he was dead or killed or just vanished.

Whatever he was now standing here and now you didn't need to try coping with all these monsters alone to defend yourself and protect queen Frigga, even if she could defend her self quite well. But you could see that she was hurt.

"There are coming more!"

With pure fear you stared at the other side of the hall, preparing yourself for one more big fight with the "aspens"

But suddenly you felt Loki's hands on your shoulder, pushing you back.

"Stay behind me."

You rose your eyebrow at him, even if he couldn't see it.

"You know I can defend myself quite well," you answered critically.

"I had seen this but you shouldn't underestimate them," Loki answered with a short gaze towards you.

But you just took your sword and stepped beside him. "And you shouldn't underestimate me, my dear"

And suddenly you found yourself back to back with Loki, fighting against the intruder who wanted something only All-father himself knew.

"Well, then could I remind you of the soldier who hit you in the library?" You heard Loki's voice. You didn't miss his mocking.

"That was something completely different!"

"Different. Of course."

"Yes, it was different"

"So, and why was that?"

"Because he was a customer!" You shouted now over the noises of swords against swords. Oh and while fighting with the aspen and discussing with Loki you just tried not to get killed. Easy...

"And a customer is allowed to harm you but you can't harm him?" Loki stated frustrated.

"Yes! Besides I tried to escape without hurting him!"

"Yes, because you could handle alone a trained soldier of Asgard,” Loki stated and now there was nothing but his teasing voice.

When you turned around to him, you stabbed a Aspen who’s sword came way to close to Loki’s ear. He however gave you a surprised look, while you just glanced sternly at him.

“To be honest, i don’t know. But I would have tried to give my best.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to save your head by killing the Aspen straight next to you. “Well, it seems like you’re really impressing me right know,” he answered with a smile and you chuckled.

“Told you.”

Suddenly he frozed, causing you to crash against his back.

Just when you saw it too. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me...”

You were surrounded by not only more but also bigger Aspens who were baring their teeth, drooling their body.

With horror you then noticed that the queen passed out and was now lying unconsciousness on the floor. But fortunately she was now guarded by two soldiers. For now she was saved.

But she still needed help, Frigga was loosing too much blood.

Apparently Loki had the same thought, as his truly desperated and concerned gaze landed upon her.

But how should you all get out of this situation? You were surrounded by dozen of dozen dumb creatures who intended to burn Asgard down and kill it's inhabitants or what ever.

It was hopeless...

All of sudden Loki turned around to you, and you’ve never seen such serious expression on his handsome face.

“Do you trust me?”

You frowned. “Loki, I’m sure we have way bigger problems right no-”

“Y/N, do you trust me?” His gaze was now literally burning.

“....Yes."

Loki nodded. “Please remember your words, darling,” he said quietly.

And with that said suddenly Loki’s eyes started to glow in a deep deep red colour, his face turned blue and with him it seemed like the whole room was freezing into ice.

Immedietly you stepped back, gasping in shock.

When Loki used his power to freeze all Aspen’s around so many thoughts flew across your mind.

Starting from the one time weeks ago were you’ve met him alone in the hall after the fight with his brother, he was so outraged and you remembered the look he had, how his eyes shone exactly like now.

All the gossip... the talks all the stories being told about the prince...

so many things were indeed true.

Loki was .... a frost giant

The second you realised this, everything went quiet.

The Aspen were gone, the ice was not spreading anymore and Loki was back in his normal form, standing with his back to you.

You didn't dare to say a word, just standing there, not knowing what to do or say or think.

But the choice was taken away from you, when you heard the so familiar voice.

“Y/N!” You were pressed into two arms, pulling you into a loving embrace. “Oh god, Y/N I was so worried about you,” Mealla cryed, her eyes red but from the tears, not from an frost giant formation...

Suddenly Mealla grabbed your arm and pulled you away from this scene, as if she did not notice this mess. “Come on, hurry! The King has returned as soon as he was contacted about the attack! We need to go!”

You couldn’t say a word, you wanted, so much. But when Mealla dragged you completly unconsciously away, Loki finally turned around.

And only then you did notice his expression, full of so much pain, it took your breath away.

And then the crowd came an he was gone...

@chims-kookies

@asgardiankingloki

@nightrose64

@mylovelycrazyworld

@6-daughter-of-a-witch-6

@nickyrose3123

@jessiejunebug

@thatfrenchperson

@vikkleinpaul

@marisayouass

@wester-than-west

@mysticalhermitofdoom

@marvel-fan-queen

@popping-pills-at-popeyes

@daddys-littlewhitegirl

@peanut-butter-sandwiches

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 8)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon MOSTLY (some S2 and Shadow of Night).

Summary: Baldwin deals with the fallout of his decision to protect Alisha himself.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

———

“Alisha,” Baldwin handed the photos back to Marcus and turned to give her a look of concern, “you need more sleep, it’s still early.”

“I can’t sleep anymore, I need to do stuff. What’s that about?” She nodded to the items Marcus was now hiding in his bag.

“Family matters, very dull and very much not your problem.”

“But-“

“You’re hungry,” Baldwin cut her off walking over to stand in front of her, “you didn’t eat a lot yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry.” She assured him.

“That wasn’t a question.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Alisha!”

She sighed, knowing that she was pushing against a brick wall. If she was ever to find anything out, she had to abandon this route.

“I guess I could eat,” she relented, “and clearly you both have something to talk about so I’ll leave you to it.” She took a step as though she was headed to the kitchen but he caught her hand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To make breakfast. Is it stupid to ask you both if you want anything?”

“I’m more of a liquid breakfast guy.” Marcus joked.

“We’re fine and you are doing no such thing. Go take a long, relaxing shower and I’ll have something you’ll like ready for when you’re done.”

“Go take a shower? Do I smell so bad?” She asked them with a hint of offence.

“If only,” Baldwin mumbled to himself, “now please, do as I ask?”

“I need clothes!”

“Walk-in, first wardrobe on the left, I had some delivered yesterday.”

“You bought me new clothes?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t choose them, Christina did!”

“I’m such an asshole, I didn’t even ask, how is she?”

“Still a vampire, so mostly recovered. She’ll be by later, wants to check up on you.”

“Good, I’d like to see her, and maybe also see what’s on Michael’s drive?”

“Long day.” Marcus commented.

“One thing at a time,” Baldwin answered pointedly, “go.”

“Yes, my Lord.” She hit back with sarcasm with an awful curtsy.

“Don’t say that, he might like it!” Marcus scrunched up his noise in disgust.

“Might?” Baldwin didn’t look at Marcus but instead gave Alisha a mischievous wink followed by a nod of the head in the direction of his huge walk-in closet.

“She seems better than yesterday at least.” Marcus commented when she was out of earshot.

“It’s been a long, hellish, few days for her. She’s strong, she’ll survive this!”

“Then, what? You just wave her off after her testimony at the congregation? Wish her well and go your separate ways?”

“I can feel you straining for a point Marcus and it’s painful to endure. Out with it!”

“Last night was a mistake! When she does finally go face Gerbert and Domenico, they will smell you all over her. I don’t care how long or relaxing a shower she takes, your claim is very much on her!”

“And I believe I told you not to discuss matters you don’t understand. I have put no claim on her, I have neither fed on her, nor have I possessed her in any other way!”

“You didn’t even hesitate, when Guillermo had her by the throat. I saw it, you didn’t weigh up what killing him could cost.”

“Just because it appears I act without thought, does not mean it’s not happening.”

“I know your mind works fast Baldwin, I’m telling you, there was nothing going on but animal fury. I’ve seen you in battle, and fighting with Matthew but I have never seen that expression before. You weren’t calculating, your brain was not engaged, it was primeval!”

“Please drop the poetic flourish. Like I said, he harmed someone under my roof and protection, yes, I was angry!”

A beep from a cell phone nearby alerted his attention and he picked it up to see the caller ID.

“Fuck,” he swore, “of all the things I don’t need right now!”

“Who is it?” Marcus asked but Baldwin had already hit the button to pick up the call

“Agatha.” Baldwin answered.

“Where is she?” The daemon responded, just as curtly.

“Miss Black is under the protection of the Knights of Lazarus, she will be delivered to the Congregation when it is safe to do so, given the attempt already made on her life.”

“Michael was killed by one of your kind and you expect me to surrender Alisha to your hands. Also, you owe me, unless you’ve forgotten. If it wasn’t for the daemons you’d be a pile of ash!”

Marcus frowned at this overheard statement.

“Do not play games with me Agatha! We both know the only reason you helped me was for your son and his family, all of whom are right now taking refuge in my family estate.“

“Are you threatening them.”

“I am no more a threat to them as I am to Alisha.”

There was a sharp inhale at the other end of the line.

“So it is true? I was told of your indiscretion with the girl by her orchestra master but I didn’t believe it until now. I did think you were above that sort of thing however, keeping a Nightingale is a move Gerbert or Knox would make.”

“Do not call her that!” Baldwin answered sharply and Marcus could swear he heard her heartbeat skip in fright over the bad line.

“What should I call it when a vampire or witch take whatever they want with no regard to the consequences.”

“If memory serves, you actively assisted Matthew and the witch, why are consequences suddenly such a concern to you?”

“Like you said, that affected my family and, from what I saw, your brother genuinely cares for Diana Bishop. I have no issues with her, she can take care of herself and she is not one of my own. Alisha is, and she has no defence against whatever game you are playing.”

“You’ll have to take me at my word that she is safest with me.”

“Is she a prisoner?”

“No.”

“A thrall?”

“I’m not Gerbert.” Baldwin answered through gritted teeth.

“No-one has seen her in the past two days Baldwin.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Knox has contacted me,” she continued, “with completely fake concern for her. If you don’t provide proof that she is alive and well there is every chance they will take that as pretext to move against you.”

“They?”

“I don’t trust Domenico and Gerbert may well be Satan himself, you at least have a code of honour. The daemons will not move against you in this matter if you promise me, right now that she is both alive and well.”

“She’s alive. Gerbert’s lackey Guillermo almost drained her but she’s mostly recovered from that. She’s lost someone dear to her so, again, it’ll take time.”

“When you arrive in Venice, I want to see her first, before the Congregation!”

“Understood.” Baldwin hung up.

“What was that about the daemons helping you?”

“Gerbert making a power play is what I call a Tuesday, Marcus, it is nothing to be concerned about. He was trying to use my refusal to hand over Matthew and Diana as grounds to replace me.”

“What now, they want to see her?”

Baldwin pulled up the Calendar on his phone.

“They will! There is something I have to do first.”

———

Alisha stepped out of the shower and dried off before dressing and exiting the bathroom to an empty apartment.

She followed the alluring scent of breakfast to the kitchen and found a post-it note beside a silver plate cover.

Eat.

Christina will be over soon. I’ll explain everything later. B x

She wondered what someone who didn’t even eat would need a domed plate cover for.

Entertaining guests, obviously.

Not long after she’d eaten, the sound of the door opening alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone.

“Alisha!” Christina called out.

“Christina.” Alisha followed her voice to the main room and noticed three other women behind her. She moved to hug the vampire but noted her freeze for a second.

“What?” Alisha asked.

Christina just shook her head and pulled Alisha into a hug.

“What’s happening?” Alisha asked, noting the the rack of stunning dresses being wheeled in behind the strangers.

“Baldwin is taking you to a silent auction. He was invited some time ago, had no intention of attending.”

“Why is he?”

“I think he wanted to get you out of the house.”

“Are we ready?” Asked a woman with the measuring tape around her neck and a pin cushion bracelet around her wrist.

———

Brian Cassidy closed the door of his office and the sound of musical practicing a few rooms over.

That’s when he felt it, the cold creeping into his bones from the focal point between his shoulder blades. The uninvited guest was behind him.

He glanced at the door handle, calculating his chances.

“Your dismembered hand would reach the corner of the room before it made it to the handle!” The voice answered his unasked question.

“Step away from the door and turn around, slowly!” The voice commanded, his tone as cold as his stare.

Brian did as he was ordered, his expression one of fear upon seeing the surprise visitor.

“De Clermont,” his voice shook, “here to kill me like you did poor Michael?”

Baldwin gave a theatrical sigh.

“Now, why would I do that?”

“The girl, just like the witch your brother abducted, you De Clermont’s-“

His sentence was stopped by the acute lack of air caused by his being lifted inches from the ground by the throat.

“I don’t hear the phrase ‘you de Clermont’s’ come out of your mouth a second time. Do you understand?”

The daemon nodded and Baldwin sat him back down on his feet, choking for air.

“Who did you have spy on Alisha Black and why?”

“There was no spying,” he explained, “Michael was friend, I was doing him a favour!”

“By threatening her?”

“An idle threat, I assure you. Regardless of her choice, it was important to Michael that she be kept safe!”

“Is that why you told Guillermo?”

“Who?”

Baldwin stared at him for a moment before realising his confusion was real.

“The vampire who killed Michael and almost killed Alisha!”

“Is she alright, where is she?”

“She’s safe, answer the question!”

“Of course I didn’t talk to a vampire. I told Agatha Wilson though.”

“I’m aware.”

“I had to,” Brian answered with mock concern, “fraternising between species is prohibited under the covenant.”

“I get it-“

“Much in the same way that daemons gathering together is also against the coven-“

“You’ve made your point!” Baldwin cut him off.

“And you’ve made that girl a target.”

“Believe me, her life was endangered by whatever it was your friend was involved in.“

“It was always in danger, you brought her to their attention.”

Baldwin’s eyes narrowed in understanding.

“Why would a daemon be a target, what did Michael know?”

“You’ll have to kill me because I would die before I put her in further danger by telling you anything!”

Baldwin cocked his head to the side and approached slowly, like a predator sizing up it’s prey. Despite his fear, Brian stood resolute.

“No matter,” Baldwin shrugged, remembering the drive Michael left Alisha, “you clearly have concern for her. Worth keeping you alive at least.”

Baldwin walked towards the door.

“De Clermont.” Brian called after him.

Baldwin stopped but didn’t turn around.

“As much as I loathe you and your family for your part in the daemons struggles, I care about her more. We’re not capable of standing against your kind or the witches. Agatha means well but you can’t let her take the girl-”

“No-one is taking her from me,” Baldwin cut him off and turned to fix the daemon with a cold stare, “stay in New York where I can find you. If I have to hunt you down I cannot promise to be as merciful! again.”

Alisha glanced down at her plunging neckline, barely concealed by the lace that covered up the bodice part of the dress, with trepidation.

“Am I being auctioned off?” She half-joked.

“Stop it, you look amazing!” Christina scolded, fluffing out the skirts, made up of what had to be thousands of soft black feathers that made up the bottom part of the gown.

“Black tie event, black dress.” Geraldine, the seamstress, explained as she buttoned the last fastening at the nape of Alisha’s neck.

“It’s crazy soft.” Alisha ran her fingers through the feathers.

“Almost done.” Helen, the hair stylist pinned the last braid into the updo she’d fashioned for the event, leaving just two wayward curls to frame Alisha’s face, the rest swept up into a complicated latticework that would be impossible to replicate on her own.

With Christina in front of her, she knew Baldwin had returned with the cold sensation of his gaze upon her.

“Well,” She asked without turning around, “will I do?”

“You’re perfect.” He answered and she noted the satisfied glances between Helen and Geraldine.

They said their goodbyes and well wishes for the evening and left.

“Will there be any other vampires there tonight?” Christina asked Baldwin.

“More than likely.” He admitted.

“Then tell her, she doesn’t know the rules.” She chided him before turning back to Alisha.

“I won’t see you for a few days. I’m heading to London but I’m sure we’ll catch up again soon.” The vampire told Alisha, giving her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before giving Baldwin a farewell nod.

With Christina gone, they were alone again.

“Look at you!” Alisha grinned, admiring the bow tie and tuxedo combination.

“Trust me, no-one will be looking at me tonight!”

“Where’s Marcus?”

“He had to leave, urgent business at home.”

“Any other nieces or nephews around?”

“Well, there’s Gallowglass. He will be attending this event.”

“So I get to meet more members of the De Clermont Clan?” She smiled.

“In time.”

“Even your infamous brother?”

“Not if I can help it!” He answered decisively, his tone failing to disguise the suppressed shudder.

She frowned.

“You don’t get on?”

“That’s...putting it mildly! Matthew has issues and I have no intention of putting a warmblood in his path!”

She nodded, deciding not to push.

To say she’d figured out how to ‘manage’ him would be wrong but she knew when to retreat from a line of questioning. If she pushed too hard she’d get nothing and he’d be more reticent to provide further detail in the future.

“Sorry,” she gave him a contrite smile, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Happily forgiven,” he approached and took her hand in his, “we have to discuss the rules.”

“That sounds ominous.” She retorted, recognising the topic shift.

“I know but it’s actually very simple. Do not offer your hand in greeting to anyone tonight. If they are human, they will offer theirs first.”

“And if they’re a vampire?”

“They won’t touch you.”

“Guillermo did.”

“That was then.” He answered quickly, his thumb lightly stroking her wrist just above her pulse.

“Given what you did to him I can understand someone else been wary about trying the same.”

“There’s more to it than that.” He admitted

“I’m listening.” She prompted gently.

“It’s not easy to explain, its...” he trailed off, trying to buy himself time to think, “vampires are driven by instinct, as civilised as we may appear, and territorial. When Guillermo bit you, he left his scent on you-“

“Do I still smell like him,” she interrupted in a slight panic, “what did he even smell like, is it bad?”

Alisha rubbed at her neck, over a now mostly healed mark.

“That’s weird, it feels...different!”

“I healed the wound with my own blood, just a few drops. It repaired the damage and erased what he did. You don’t have his scent on you, just-“

“Yours?”

He nodded slowly as though reluctant to admit it.

“Last night, I shouldn’t have stayed.”

“I asked you to, and I’m glad you did.”

“You were upset, you weren’t thinking clearly and I should have been. I fucked up, I let you down.”

“So, you think that being an uncaring asshole would have made the situation better?”

“Being genuinely uncaring where you’re concerned would not be possible but, yes, I should have made a performance of it.”

“Do you know why I was so upset last night?” She asked, taking him aback.

“The pen drive, Michael’s name for you. I’m not the most sensitive male you’ve ever met but I’m not completely hopeless!”

“Why last night? Why not the night it happened, before Guillermo showed up?”

“Shock.”

She shook her head.

“No, it’s the same reason I actually managed to sleep last night. It was the first time I’ve felt safe since this whole thing started,” she admitted quietly, “if that’s what being ‘yours’ means, I can live with that.”

“Alisha-“

“We should go.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, not needing a response.

———

PART 9

[slusheeduck]

The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher!AU

[Arc 1]

Arc 2: [Together] [A Talk] [The Visit] [Time] [Shot] [Dropping In] [Penultimate]

Chapter 8: Crossroad

             “It’s not the movies, but…hope this makes up for yesterday, chamaco.”

               Héctor waited for Miguel to turn around before offering him an apologetic smile to go with the fruit cup he held out to him. He relaxed slightly as Miguel took it without hesitation, already pulling a chunk of melón verde out as they walked back to the apartment. Héctor watched him for a moment, hands in his pockets.

               “I really am sorry, Miguel. I—”

               “It’s fine. Tía Imelda told me everything. Do you want my pineapple?”

               “Qué?”

               “My pineapple; it makes my mouth itchy and…”

               Héctor shook his head, stopping in his tracks and setting his hand on Miguel’s head to stop him as well. “No, not the pineapple. Tía Imelda told you…everything?”

               Miguel shrugged. “I mean, I kinda already knew, but she said that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your mamá, so you lost track of time.” He dug out a grape, rolling it nervously in his fingers before looking up at Héctor. “I mean, I was a little worried when you didn’t call…”

               Héctor swallowed. Oh, he hadn’t even thought of that; calling when he’d gone anywhere had become second nature since Miguel had moved in, and he’d left his phone at home like an idiot. “Ay, Miguel, I…”

               “Bu-ut, I mean, not that much. I mean, you just went to that café you and Tía Imelda always go to, yeah? And I wanted to stay up until you came back, but she told me I had to go to sleep. And then you were here this morning so it was fine.” He popped the grape in his mouth, relaxing again. “So you don’t need to apologize, Tío Héctor. We’ll go to the movies later.”

               Héctor pressed his lips together hard. Okay. Okay okay. So he hadn’t heard everything. That was…well, it’d be a hard thing to talk about, but at least he got to tell Miguel himself. That was a good thing. Probably.

               He glanced down as he saw a pineapple spear being waved in his general direction, and he smiled at Miguel as he took it, then ran his free hand through his hair. “Why don’t we sit for a minute, chamaco?” He nodded at the low wall behind them. “Fruit tastes better when you’re sitting outside, anyway.” He sat down on the edge of the wall, hand automatically going out to make sure Miguel didn’t topple over as he hopped up. “I…I actually had a really interesting talk with Mamá yesterday.”

               “Was she nice?”

               Héctor’s eyebrows rose at the defensiveness in Miguel’s question, and he laughed a bit. “Sí, sí, she was very nice.” He took a bite of pineapple, chewing for a moment before adding, “Does she seem…not nice to you?”

               Miguel squinted. “I guess not. She kept trying to kiss me like Abuelita does.”

               Héctor chuckled. “Mamá likes to make up for lost time with kisses and presents. Whenever she visited, I always looked like I had the chickenpox with all her lipstick.” He smiled as Miguel laughed, then took a breath. “Anyway, I talked with her yesterday, and…there’s some stuff I want to talk to you about from that conversation. It turns out, Mamá has a friend who lives over in Morelia, who’s an agent with a record label. And…she wants me to talk to him, to see if Ernesto and I can get signed on with them.” He paused, glancing over to gauge Miguel’s reaction. “If we get signed on, that means they’ll make CDs of our songs, and being musicians would be our full-time job. Está claro?”

               Miguel nodded. “So…you’d stop being a teacher?”

               “Yes, exactly.” Héctor fiddled with his pineapple chunk. “But…that also means that I’ll probably be travelling a lot. Ernesto and I would be touring a lot.”

               “That’s fine. I don’t mind travelling. We went on a road trip last year and I didn’t even get car sick like Abel did, so…”

               “You…wouldn’t be travelling with us, Miguel.”

               Miguel froze for a moment, and he looked up at Héctor. For the first time in the conversation, Miguel looked hurt. “What? Why?”

               Héctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, for one, it’s not safe. And two, you still have to go to school, and I wouldn’t have the time to homeschool you.”

               Miguel frowned, then he gave a little huff. “I guess I could stay with Tía Imelda, but…”

               Héctor grimaced. “Not…quite. Since she and I aren’t married, she’s not your guardian. So…”

               “So then marry her?’

               “I wish it was that easy, chamaco. What’ll probably happen is you’ll…go back to Santa Cecilia.” Héctor’s stomach twisted as Miguel sent him a look that bordered on panic.

               “What? So are you not adopting me?”

               “No, no, I am! Cálmese, cálmese.” He went to set his hand on Miguel’s head, but pulled it back as Miguel ducked away, inwardly cringing at the fierce look the boy gave him. “Escuchamé, Miguel. It would just be for a couple years. A-and we’d have so much more money. I’d be able to marry Tía Imelda, we could get a big house—maybe even in El Distrito, who knows!—and then we could be a real family.”

               Teto, I know I said I’d visit, but soon, mí corazón, I’ll have plenty of money. And once I come get you, we’ll have a big house in El Distrito and be a real family!

               Héctor froze as the words rang in his head, heart flipping in his chest. Had he really said that? But…no, this was different. He had a plan. It really would only be a couple years.

               He wouldn’t…he would not be like his mother.

               He blinked a few times, coming back to himself as he noticed the look on Miguel’s face—he hadn’t seen that sort of skepticism on a kid since he’d first brought Miguel back home. He swallowed.

               “Look, Miguel. I know it’s not ideal,” he said quietly. “I…I get it. I really, really get it. Getting moved from place to place…es pésimo. It’s…” He sucked in a breath. What was the best way to approach this to an eight-year-old? “That’s what happened to me, when I was growing up. And I never, ever want that to happen to you. But…look, your papá wanted to give you the world. And if I can do that…if I can earn enough money to get us a stable home and everything we need to be an actual family, then…then I think it’s gonna be worth it. Even…even if it’s hard right now.”

               He let out a quick, wheezing breath as he finished, then watched Miguel with wide eyes. For several minutes, the kid did nothing but turn his empty fruit cup over in his hands. Was he in shock? Was he thinking? Would he agree that it was a good idea? Would he lash out and say that it was unfair and why would Héctor even think something like this was a good idea?

               Was it bad that a small part of Héctor hoped he would do the last one?

               “Miguel?”

               This time, Miguel let Héctor’s hand land on his shoulder, and he sniffled before he could stop himself.

               “You said you weren’t ever leaving again.”

               “I’m not…I’m not leaving. It’s not…I’m still adopting you. And when I’m not touring I’m going to be right by your side. A-and then in two years or so I’ll just stay home and song-write.” He squeezed Miguel’s shoulder. “It’ll take a little longer than planned, but it’ll be worth it, Miguel. I promise.”

               Miguel didn’t reply, but as he looked up, his thoughts were plain as day on his face: You promised we’d go to the movies, too.

               Héctor’s eyes flicked over Miguel’s face, and he felt himself wilt. It was worth it. It had to be. Good things always came with growing pains, right? They just had to get through it. The both of them had been through so much already, it should be easy.

               Maybe.

               Héctor ruffled Miguel’s hair. “Well…tomorrow, it’s just going to be a talk. The agent, he might not even like me. He might think I’m too scarecrowish for songs that don’t include wizards and yellow brick roads.” No reaction from Miguel. Héctor pressed his lips together hard, then put on a smile as best he could as he got to his feet. “And it’s not until tomorrow! We can still go out today. Maybe we could still catch a movie, o-or we could stop by the park…”

               Miguel silently hopped down from the wall, tossing his cup into a nearby trash can without looking at Héctor. After a moment, he quietly asked, “Can we just go home?”

               This was a mistake. It had to be; no one was happy with this.

               But…but they would be.

               After all, just think of what he could give Miguel if he had the kind of money a pro. Think of how wonderful and comfortable his family—Imelda, Miguel, Mari, whatever other kids popped up—could be if he just grinned and bore it for a couple years. And Miguel…he was a smart kid. He’d get that he wasn’t being strung along. It was just some discomfort for the greater good. He’d see that.

               But even so, he wasn’t about to argue that it was really awful in the moment.

               He set his hand on Miguel’s head, ruffling his hair gently. “Sure, chamaco. Let’s head home.”

~

               Discos Fénix was…a lot less glamorous than he’d expected.

               Granted, he hadn’t really been sure what he expected out of a record agency. Maybe some gold-tinted windows, or at least some fancy modern architecture. He squinted at it as he took off his helmet, still half-convinced that the nondescript boxy building he was at was the right address.

               However, he didn’t even have to check the business card again; the trilling “Teto!” was confirmation enough that he was at the right place. He took a breath, tucking his helmet under his arm as he turned and smiled at his mother as she came out into the parking lot. She looked surprisingly professional today in a plain white blouse and black pencil skirt, her hair piled onto her head in a carefully haphazard way. She immediately pulled him into a tight hug.

               “Ah, mi corazón, I’m so happy you made it,” she said with a bright grin. “And is the motorcycle I’ve heard about? Qué chido! You already look like a rock star!” She gave him a wink as she stepped back. “All you need now is the record deal to go with it.”

               “Ah…gracias, Mamá. But today’s…just talking, isn’t it? No deals?”

               “Well, that’s what Andres says, but I get the feeling things might progress a bit more than that. After all, he already knows how talented you are, mijo.” Mari ushered Héctor inside, sending a wave to a bored-looking security guard as they walked in. “This is the son I was telling you about!” she said to him, pointing at Héctor as they entered the lobby. Héctor squirmed a bit.

               “Please tell me you haven’t been telling everyone in the building about me.”

               “Why shouldn’t I? I’m proud of my son!”

               Héctor knew he should be glowing at those words, but…they felt a little more hollow today than they had in the café. He couldn’t put his finger on why exactly, but it seemed more performed today. Or he’d been too messed up a couple days ago to notice the performance.

               But it wasn’t worth worrying over. After all, he couldn’t really say anything here anyway. So he merely shook his head as he stepped into the elevator with her, then let himself be ushered out into the hallway when they got to the fourth floor. She stopped in front of one of the many identical, dark wooden doors, a bright smile on her face.

               “Don’t be nervous, mí corazón,” she said, reaching up to pull him own and pepper his cheek with kisses. “You’ll charm him before you even start talking.”

               Héctor gave her an awkward grin. As if that was the reason he was uncomfortable. But there was no time to say anything before the door opened and a short, pleasant-looking man in neat, casual clothes smiled up at them.

               “Pasen, pasen,” he said, waving them in as he stepped back, then gestured at Héctor’s helmet. “Ah, I see you ride. I had a little moto back when I was your age, too. Here, just set that by the door, then we can start talking. Do you want anything?”

               “Ah…no, no gracias.” Héctor glanced at Mari as he set his helmet down; she made her way through the office as if she owned the place. But then, he didn’t really expect anything less from her. He followed, quietly sitting in one of the very nice chairs at the desk. “And, uh, thanks for seeing me, Alex. Er…Señor Hernández?” He jumped at the loud laugh that came out of the other man as he sat.

               “Alex is what my American clients call me. Apparently Andrés Alejandro Hernández Madroñero is too hard,” he said with another chuckle. “But you are a friend, so you’re more than welcome to just call me Andrés.”

               Héctor gave him a little smile. “Well, gracias, Andrés. I do really appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

               Andrés waved his hand. “Don’t even worry about that.” He leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his desk. “I don’t know if you know this, but your mamá has been singing your praises since the first time we met. And hearing your demos, I can see that you’ve earned her praise.”

               Héctor glanced at Mari. “Have you really talked about me that much?” he asked quietly. She grinned.

               “Of course, mi corazón. I can’t keep talent like yours a secret.”

               Héctor half-smiled, though he couldn’t quite tamp down the curl of discomfort in his chest. After all, Ernesto had said the same thing whenever Héctor’d thought of bowing out of the music scene. He didn’t have long to compare them, though, before Andrés cleared his throat.

               “Now, Héctor, why don’t you tell me about your musical background?”

               “Well, I was classically trained in guitar and piano, and I studied music theory at l’Universidad d…” He trailed off as Andrés laughed and shook his head.

               “No, no, not that. No offense, my friend, but no one except fangirls cares about that.” He leaned forward, brow furrowed slightly. “No, tell me about the music.”

               Héctor drummed his fingers on his knee for a moment. “Uh…well, Cruz y Rivera is me and my friend, Ernesto—which, um, sorry he couldn’t be here today.” He couldn’t fight the glance toward his mother before he looked back up at Andrés. “Something came up. But we try to bring together traditional music styles with modern ones. Ernesto’s a big fan of rancheras and boleros, and I try my best to channel Carlos Santana when I perform, so we do our best to mesh both of those into something beautiful and fun.”

               Andrés nodded. “And have you released anything?”

               “Por supuesto. We have a recording set-up in our apartment, and we’ll do some live sessions on YouTube.”

               “You have a YouTube?”

               “It’s where most people find us.”

               “How many followers?”

               Héctor puffed out his cheeks. “We…just hit 60,000 a couple weeks ago, I think.”

               Andrés raised his eyebrows. “That’s good. You’ve already got a fanbase, then.” He smiled up at Héctor. “That definitely means you’ve got something special.” He turned to his computer, clicking a few times. Music burst out of the speakers; it took Héctor a moment to realize it was one of their songs.

               “This one, I think it’s called ‘En calquier caso’?”

               “Close. ‘Dices cualquier cosa.’”

               “That’s it, thank you. Now, this one is a hit just waiting to happen.”

               Héctor gave a wide smile, sitting up in his seat a bit. “I’m proud of it, actually. A-and it’s one of our most viewed videos.”

               “Well that’s no surprise. Now, is this you singing?”

               “No, I barely sing; Ernesto’s the one with the decent voice,” he said with a chuckle, then held up a finger as a guitar solo started. “That’s me. I write most of our music, too.”

               Andrés gave Héctor a knowing look. “And that is a much more important skill to have. Sure, a nice voice and a nice face is fine—not that you don’t have a nice face, of course, but those things don’t always last. Being able to make music out of nothing, though, that is a skill that will get you very, very far.” Andrés raised his eyebrows. “But you have to get your name out there first. So, here’s what I’m suggesting: we sign Cruz y Rivera on for a five-year contract with Discos Fénix. That’s…about two records, and so two tours.”

               “Two tours?” Oh. That was…much more than he’d initially been considering. Héctor swallowed, then added, “Is it…um, how much travelling would there be?”

               Andrés leaned back. “Well, I can’t tell you for sure. But you’re guaranteed a full tour of México and a few big cities in America. I’ll shoot for Brazil too, if I can.”

               At that point, was it even worth going home? “That’s…a lot.”

               “I know, I know. It’s going to be exhausting. But! Think of all the opportunities you’ll get. And besides, you’re not even thirty yet, right? So you’ll bounce back like nothing.” Andrés smiled. “And, once you put in those five years, I can promise you that you’ll be able to hole up somewhere nice and write songs for the biggest stars around.”

               Héctor pressed his lips together hard. Five years. Miguel would nearly be fourteen by the time this was done—and there was no way he could adopt him if he was constantly gone. And Imelda…would she wait that long to get married? He supposed they could just get married now, and then Miguel could stay with her instead of going back to Santa Cecilia. But…it was still so long…

               But…think of the money. He could buy a house—a nice roomy one. Imelda would get all the lovely, expensive things she always sighed over when they went out—and the school could get a very nice donation from a certain ex-teacher that’d take care of all the maintenance and supplies that were needed. And Miguel! With this kind of money, Miguel could take any music class he wanted. And he could even have a university fund set up so he could study abroad or even at El Conservatario! Not to mention the other kids that would be coming along. Wasn’t that the kind of life he wanted for his future family?

               And not just the family he was making now. This was a guarantee to keep Ernesto and Mari around as well. He really could get everything he wanted, just at the expense of five years. That…that wasn’t so bad of a trade, right? Just five…short years…

               He shook out his shoulders, getting himself back into the present. “Can I…can I see the contract?

               “No need to,” Mari chirped. “I helped Andrés write it up for you. It’s everything you’d ever need to move on to a bright new life.”

               Héctor frowned. “I still want to see it.”

               Andrés chuckled even as Mari looked wounded. “Smart boy,” he said, leaning over to open one of his drawers. “Here’s some free advice, no matter what you end up doing: always read the contract. Even the small print.” He took a glance at his watch as he resurfaced, a thick stack of papers in his hand. “Though…the way we’re doing this is a little…untraditional. So if you could have an answer by tonight, it’d make things a lot easier for the both of us.”

               Héctor’s frown deepened as he took the papers. “What do you mean, ‘untraditional’?”

               “It normally takes months to get an appointment with Andrés,” Mari said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But he’s dedicated the whole day to you!”

               Héctor swallowed, eyes widening as he looked up at Andrés, who cleared his throat.

               “Mariana, since you already know what’s in the contract, could you go wait outside for a moment?” he said, giving her a pleasant smile. “I’ll send Héctor right out when we’re done, I just want to make sure he understands everything.”

               Mari blinked, then glanced up at Héctor before giving her biggest smile. “Of course I don’t mind. I suppose you are a little too old for your Mamá to hang around for a signing.” She pulled Héctor over to pepper kisses to his cheek, then got to her feet and made her way out with a trilling goodbye. Once the door was closed, Andrés took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

               “Look, Héctor,” he said before Héctor could ask anything. “You’re a grown man. You should know what’s going on.” He looked up at him. “Your mama worked terribly hard to get to know me over the past few months.”

               Héctor blinked. “Are…are you dating her?’

               “No! No, no, I’m happily married,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh before he leaned forward. “Let me tell you something: this industry is built on relationships. And I don’t know how she did it, but she found her way to every event, every dinner, every conference I’ve been to in the past few months. I thought she was playing the game for herself, but…well, I was moved when we finally got to talking and she could only talk about you. Told me about how you played guitar since you were a kid, how you and your friend started your channel and even managed to tour, everything. She was so proud of you.”

               Héctor swallowed, once again drumming his fingers on his knee in a nonsense tune as he processed that. “That…that’s very nice to hear, thank you.”

               Andrés nodded. “You should know she loves you very, very much.” His brow furrowed, and he bit down on the end of his glasses. “But like I said before, this method of signing isn’t typical. And it’s definitely not fair to my other clients if I spend too much time on you and your friend.” He quickly added, “And don’t think this is a pity conference just because your mama worked so hard. After hearing your music, I can tell you would make hit after hit. You especially make magic happen with that guitar of yours.”

               “Thank you.”

               Andrés nodded, setting his glasses back on. “Obviously I want you to look through the paperwork. But, honestly? If I were you, I’d jump on this chance now.” He looked over his glasses. “You probably won’t get a chance like this again, Héctor. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a mother who loves her son this much.”

               Héctor’s heart pounded in his chest. Was this even real? One day to decide where he wanted his life course to go? And what about Ernesto? Well, that was a stupid question; Ernesto would tell him to do it right now, that the contract didn’t matter and this was their step toward becoming the men they’d dreamed of, to having the life he’d always wanted with his friend and his family. He could practically hear him in his head, whispering, “Come on, Teto. You’ve just got to seize your moment.”

               Slowly, he picked up the pen…only to drop it as his phone went off.

               “Sorry, sorry!” he apologized quickly, digging in his pocket to pull his phone out. “Sorry. My primo’s staying with me and he gets nervous if…”

               He went silent as he looked at the screen. Oh. It wasn’t a call, it was an alarm. He squinted at the screen, and his heart dropped to his chest as he saw the words “SOCIAL WORKER VISIT – 4 PM” in big letters on the screen. That was today?! He jumped up to his feet.

               “I-I…Lo siento, Andrés, but I-I have to go. Right now. I’m sorry,” he said, nearly tripping as he turned to the door.

               “So soon?” Andrés asked as he stood up.

               “Sí! It’s…I have an appointment I have to go to!” His fingers slipped over the helmet as he tried to pick it up.

               “Well, if you get the chance, call me later tonight,” Andrés called. “I can’t keep this opening for you forever!”

               Héctor barely heard him as he opened the door, trying to figure out how he was going to pull this off. It was about an hour drive home if he was quick, so he should be able to get there just in time. Could he afford a few minutes to call Imelda? No, probably not, it was better if he just…

               “Ay, mijo, what’s the rush?” Héctor nearly toppled backward as Mari took his arm. “So? Did you sign?”

               Héctor swallowed, looking back at her and shaking his head. “No. I have to get home. I forgot I have a home visit for Miguel, and the social worker will be there at four.  I need to—” He trailed off as Mari waved her hand.

               “Just call and have him come back later. They understand these sort of things, I’m sure.”

               Héctor went still, just barely keeping his jaw from dropping as he stared at Mari. She…she had to be joking. “You…sorry, did you just suggest I reschedule a home visit? In the middle of an adoption?”

               Mari shrugged. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first. Just say that something important came up. Or a family emergency happened, if you’re desperate. I’ll vouch for you, mijo, don’t worry.”

               “And you…you think that’s okay?”

               Mari shrugged. “It worked when Elena was taking care of you.” She chuckled. “It took forever for me to get to the court date to sign off the guardianship, I was so busy that year.”

               Héctor stared at Mari in utter disbelief, stomach curling uncomfortably. Static filled his head, drowning out his thoughts. Through the noise, he tried to tell himself that she was kidding, or that she was just trying to keep him there in a bid of desperation, but…no. Her face was too open and genuine; she actually thought this was an acceptable option, and the realization that she had always been like this sucked the air right out of his lungs.

               Ernesto was right. Tía Victoria was right. Tía Elena was right. He’d tried so hard to block out the times they’d told him that she loved herself more, that she didn’t really take being a mother seriously. But now he was seeing it himself, and it was so much worse than he ever thought it would be.

               But there was no time to be hurt. So he pulled his arm away and stood up straight. Just because she couldn’t be a parent doesn’t mean he couldn’t.

               “I’m not signing.”

               For the very first time he could remember, Mari’s composure dropped. She looked as if she’d been slapped, and she sent him a look of panic before putting on a stiff smile. “Ay, Teto, qué gracioso! You always were a funny boy.”

               Héctor kept his face strong. “I’m not signing, Mamá,” he repeated. “I…look, I know I said I wanted to record for years, but…things are different now. I can’t put my life on hold for five years; Miguel needs me.” He swallowed as he rolled his helmet in his hands. “I appreciate what you’ve done, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Mamá.” He turned toward the elevator, but stopped as he heard a choked noise from behind him.

               “So you’re just…you’re just throwing a chance like this away?” Héctor turned around and automatically shrunk back as he saw the look on Mari’s face. For the first time, his mother looked angry—nearly as angry as Tía Elena had whenever she whipped out la chancla. He instinctively flinched back as she walked up to him. “Héctor. You are far too talented to be holed up in a school. And I…I worked so hard to give you this chance. You think it’s been easy? You think you can just waltz on up to someone and ask them to please, please, just take a listen to your son’s music? It took ages, Héctor, and now…are you really that ungrateful for what I’ve done for you?”

               “Mamá, I am grateful. And a few years ago, I would have jumped at this chance.” With a bit of effort, he stood up straight, looking down to meet her eyes. “But Miguel needs a family, and I promised I’d be there for him.”

               Mari shook her head. “He has family. Elena’s other boy, he was planning on taking him in, wasn’t he? And he’d be surrounded by everyone at the shoe shop. And you can still adopt him! Five years is nothing, Héctor. You can visit and then have a nice home ready for him.” She stepped forward to set her hand on his arm. “Escúchame, mi corazón. Think of everything you could give him if you just…”

               “Think of all you could’ve given me if you’d just been there!”

               The words burst out of Héctor before he could stop them, and he immediately covered his mouth, eyes wide as Mari stared at him in shock. He’d never, ever talked back to Mari, much less yelled at her. He almost apologized.

               But then, what would he even be apologizing for? “Sorry for wanting a mother who was around”? No. No, this kind of family dynamic ended with him, right now.

               He swallowed and steadied himself as he stood tall, taking advantage of her stunned silence to talk. “Mamá…I know you did the best you could,” he said. “But…but I don’t want my kid to live the way I did. I don’t want him to know I love him from letters and presents, I want to be there for him. I want a home, one that’s mine and that I wasn’t just…just dumped into.” His voice broke, but he pulled himself together to add, “And I’m really sorry if you can’t see how important that is. For me and Miguel.” When Mari didn’t reply, he let out a soft breath. “I’ll…I’ll see you, Mamá. I’ll write soon.”

               He turned and started walking back to the elevators, but slowed as he heard a sniffle. He glanced over his shoulder, heart twisting as he saw the look on his mother’s face. For the first time, she looked…fragile. Her eyes shone with tears, and her lips trembled as she stared at him. It was the most genuine emotion he’d seen from her, and for some reason that made him profoundly uncomfortable yet unable to turn away.

               Mari wiped her eyes with her fingertips, dark eyes focused hard on him. “I’ve always loved you, mijo,” she said, voice shaking. “I have always wanted the best for you. Nothing less.”

               Héctor sighed softly. He glanced at his watch, then took a few quick steps back down the hall to stand in front of Mari. “I never doubted that. Not once,” he said, unable to stop the sadness that colored his voice. He leaned down, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before stepping back. “Goodbye, Mamá. Write me when you can. I’ve got to go.”

               And with that, he turned and headed straight for the elevators, ignoring every temptation to look back at her. They both knew the truth now: it was too late. Too late for her to have a son to show off, too late for him to have the kind of relationship with his mother he wanted. Too late for her love to mean anything more to him than a nice sentiment.

               But it wasn’t too late for Miguel. And, by god, he was going to be the kind of parent he’d always wished he’d had. He just had to get to the apartment first.

~

               By some miracle, he didn’t get stopped for speeding or into a wreck as he sped home, and he pulled into the apartment’s parking lot just in time to see Elena Martinez—easy to spot in her bright yellow suit—walking up to the front door. He swerved into his parking spot and nearly faceplanted off his bike as he tried to throw himself off of it.

               “Señora Martinez!” he called, causing her to stop as he ran up to the door. “Don’t…don’t go in yet!”

               Her eyes were wide, and she automatically took a step back as he approached. Why…oh. His helmet was still on. He quickly took it off, taking a deep breath as she let out a laugh.

               “Oh, Héctor. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with that on.” She looked at Héctor curiously. “Is something wrong?”

               “No! No, nothing’s wrong. Just…” He let out a breath, running his hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “There was…a little bit of a family emergency.”

               “Dios mio, is everything okay?”

               “Sí sí sí, everyone’s fine. Just…I need a few minutes to check in with Miguel. Is there any way I can have just five minutes before you come up?”

               She smiled, then checked her watch. “Well, I have a little wiggle room today. How about I come up at 4:15? Would that be all right?”

               “Perfecto. Muchas gracias.”

               “Of course.” As Héctor started to go into the building, she added, “Oh, and Héctor?”

               He stopped and turned, eyes wide. “Sí?”

               “Call me Elena, not Señora Martinez.” She smiled. “I’ll be up in just a few minutes.”

               Héctor smiled, nearly going limp from relief, then entered the apartment building. He took the stairs two at a time—earning a grumble from Chicharrón somewhere around the third floor that was promptly ignored—and reached the apartment in record time. He paused for a moment, gathering himself.

               Qué día.

               He still had to figure out how to best tell Andrés that he wasn’t signing the contract. And how to tell Ernesto that he wasn’t signing the contract. And, of course, he had to unpack everything that had happened with his mother, which was going to take a while and possibly a therapist and definitely a long phone call to Tía Elena.

               But that could all wait. For now, there was something much more important.

               He’d barely gotten the door unlocked before it burst open, with Miguel launching himself right at Héctor’s middle. He stumbled back with a laugh, automatically hugging the boy to him.

               “See, I knew all that noise was you! I heard the motorcycle and Tía Imelda wouldn’t believe me but I told her.” Miguel looked up at him with a big smile, but it slowly began to fade. He let go of Héctor and stepped back as he asked, “So…are you leaving?”

               “I…”

               “Dios mio, Miguel, I step away for two seconds and…” Imelda walked to the doorway, eyebrows raising in surprise as she saw Héctor. “You’re back already?”

               “I told you, Tía Imelda.”

               Héctor automatically ruffled Miguel’s hair as he looked up at Imelda with a half-smile. “It, uh, well, my phone reminded me that we had a home visit today. Past me knew I’d forget, I guess.”

               Imelda’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. “That’s today?” She pressed her thumb to her brow. “Dios mio, with your mother and the spring fair, I…”

               “Tranquilo, tranquilo, diosa.” Héctor finally pulled away from Miguel to set his hands on Imelda’s arms. “I ran into the social worker downstairs, she’s gonna come in a few minutes. We’re fine.” He rubbed her arms as he kissed along her hairline. “Everything is going to be fine.”

               Imelda pulled back, brow furrowed. “But what about the record deal?”

               “I’m calling him back tonight. But…” He looked between her and Miguel. “But I’m not signing.”

               “What?” Héctor looked down at Miguel in surprise. “But you could’ve been a rock star!”

               Héctor half-smiled. “And let Profe Gustavo take over the estudiantina for five years? I couldn’t do that in good conscience.”

               “Five years?” Imelda whispered. He nodded.

               “Mm. It’s too long.”

               “And…how did your mother take it?”

               Héctor sucked in a breath, pressing his lips together tightly. “She…well, that one is a long story.” He ruffled Miguel’s hair again. “Tell you what, once this visit’s over and I’ve given Andrés a call, I’ll tell you both all about it. And you, chamaco, can show me that song I’ve heard you plucking at over the past few days.”

~

               For all the fuss at the start, the visit itself went outrageously smoothly. There was a little explanation about Ernesto moving out and Imelda had to have a little conversation about her new status as future guardian, but in all, Elena Martinez said that they should be in the clear, and Héctor would be getting more information in a few days.

               And now, after the stress of the day, Héctor found himself on the roof of the apartment, phone in hand and breathing in the cool evening air. Miguel had been practically buzzing to show off the song he’d written, but Héctor had asked for just a few minutes to call Andrés about the contract before that. And he was going to do it soon, but for now, he took the time to breathe in the cool evening air and enjoy a moment of stillness.

               Qué día.

               The conversation with Mari still hurt, but not as much as he’d expected it to. He’d known for a while that this was the kind of person she was, even if he hadn’t admitted it, and he’d known he’d never get what he wanted from her. Not…that he really needed it. He already had someone who’d given him everything a mother could give.

                Vaya, he really needed to call Tía Elena.

               But Andrés first. He pulled the card from his shirt pocket, squinting at the numbers in the dying light. It’d be quick, he’d apologize for wasting his time, and…

               “Imelda said you’d be up here.”

               Héctor jumped, and he turned around to see Ernesto walking out onto the roof. He automatically got to his feet, tucking the card back into his pocket.

               “Hola, Nesto.” He gripped his right arm, unsure of what else to say. Given the way Ernesto seemed to be looking at everything but Héctor, he was in the same boat. “Um. I’m just…if you want to sit for a minute up here…?”

               “No. I’m just staying for a minute.” He pulled a stack of cash from his pocket, silently counting out the bills before he held them out to Héctor. “Here’s my rent for the month. From now on, you’re on your own with paying it.”

               Héctor glanced down at the money, then up at Ernesto. “So you really are moving out?”

               “You waited until my stuff was practically gone before asking?”

               “I mean, you can be a little dramatic.”

               Ernesto rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m moving out.” He looked away as he shrugged. “You’ve got your life plan, I’ve got mine, and they’ve gotten more and more different over the past year. I don’t think either of us really have a place for the other now.” The words sounded rehearsed, but then, they usually were when he got serious like this.

               Héctor swallowed. Ernesto…wasn’t wrong, but still. He’d been around for so long that he couldn’t really think about what life without his best friend would look like…even if they weren’t, strictly speaking, best friends these days. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

               “Where are you moving to?”

               “Just outside Guadalajara. My friend Carlos—he’s downstairs—he lives out there and I’m going to stay with him for a bit.”

               “Nice, nice. It’s a good city, you’ll like it.”

               Ernesto nodded, still not looking at Héctor, and they fell into a long, uncomfortable silence. Just as Héctor was about to say he needed to make a call, Ernesto asked, “So how did the meeting go?”

               “I’m not signing.” The words came out with surprising ease; he’d been prepared to circle-talk his way around it in his original plan to break the news. Ernesto nodded, unruffled.

               “I had a feeling you wouldn’t. You never liked touring. How long did they want to sign us on for?”

               “Five years.”

               “Five? Ay, one of us would have killed the other.” Ernesto shifted. “How’d he take it?”

               “I haven’t told him yet. I was just about to call.”

               Ernesto’s eyebrows rose. “Do you still have his card?” Once Héctor pulled it out, he took it with a smile. “Look, just because you don’t want it doesn’t mean the chance should go to waste. I’m not suddenly getting saddled with a family; five years is nothing.”

               Héctor blinked, then smiled as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Adelante, Nesto. If anyone could make a solo career work, it’s you.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And I think you should show him that song you’ve been working on. It’s good.”

               Ernesto’s carefully maintained expression dropped, and he looked genuinely shocked. “You…heard it?”

               “You never put up the foam, of course I heard it.” He smiled. “More like that, and you’ll end up throwing my songs out.”

               “Basta.” Despite the way he waved his hand, he looked genuinely touched. Héctor’s smile widened before he pressed his lips together.

               “You were right. About Mamá,” he said softly. “And…I think I always knew it, but…” He looked up as Ernesto took a step forward, setting his hand on his shoulder.

               “Escúchame, Héctor. I know…I know what I said a few days ago, but you are nothing like her.” His mouth pulled back into an almost-smile. “You’re already doing better than both of our parents. I think you have a shot at…at actually being a decent parent. If you remember to pay the rent on time.”

               Héctor smiled, relaxing immediately at the assurance. “Gracias, Nesto. That…it really means a lot.”

               “I know.” Ernesto stepped back, staring at Héctor for a moment before he held out his hand. “I’ll text you what the agent ends up saying later tonight, okay?”

               Héctor looked down at Ernesto’s hand, then took two steps forward to throw his arms around Ernesto in a tight hug instead. “If he doesn’t sign you on, he’s a hack,” he said, giving him a squeeze before letting go and giving Ernesto a big smile. “I fully expect to see your stupid face all over México in a couple years, bien?”

               Ernesto blinked, clearly caught off-guard with the sudden display of affection, but gave Héctor a smile in return. “And I’ll try to carve out some time for your wedding.” He pulled out his phone, already dialing the number on the card. “Anyway, I’ve got an agent to call. Hasta pronto, Héctor.”

               Héctor gave a wave just as Ernesto turned back to the doorway, letting out a breath as he disappeared down the stairs. But, just as Ernesto’s footsteps faded, a second set came rushing up, and Héctor gave a wide smile as Miguel ran out onto the roof, guitar in hand.

               “Tía Imelda said we should come up and check on you, but she’s being so slow,” Miguel said breathlessly as Héctor walked up to him. “Are you done with your call? Can I show you my song?”

               “Por supuesto, chamaco, my evening’s all yours,” Héctor said with a laugh. “Come on, I think there’s just enough room over here for the three of us.” As he guided Miguel to the spot, he looked down at him. “Are you loosened up?”

               Miguel nodded, shaking out his arms and shoulders to demonstrate.

               “Perfecto. But I think you could be a little looser. Why don’t we pull out el grito?” He took a deep breath, then let out a loud grito. Miguel joined him, trilling out a cry that was just as loud as Héctor’s. They both stopped and turned, though, at the third voice that echoed out from the doorway. Héctor grinned.

               “Was that a grito from La Directora?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Imelda shrugged with a smile as she walked over to them, his guitar case in hand.

               “Well, if everyone else is doing it, I figured I might as well give it a try.” Her dark eyes glinted as she looked up at him, standing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Sorry to keep you waiting, cariño, but someone needed to grab your guitar.”

               Héctor gave her a bright smile and a quick but enthusiastic kiss as he took the case. To think, he’d thought being away from this was a good idea. He cupped her face as he looked down at her, thumb brushing her cheek.

               “Why don’t we get married right now?” he asked softly. “Just run down to the courthouse before it closes.”

               “Well, aside from the fact that the courthouse is closed, I don’t have a ring, and you still haven’t even met my parents, I think we at least need to tell our soon-to-be son what’s happening,” she murmured, then took Héctor’s hand and kissed his palm a few times. “Then we can discuss what a bad idea that is.”

               Héctor smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Fair enough.”

               He took her hand and pulled her over to their spot, smiling as he saw Miguel carefully tuning his guitar. “Hey, chamaco, before you start, there’s something I wanted to tell you. Well, that Imelda and I wanted to tell you.”

               Miguel looked up, brows furrowed. “Is it bad?”

               “No, no! It’s not bad at all. It’s…” Héctor smiled at Imelda, then looked back at Miguel. “Well, Tía Imelda and I are…we’re planning on getting married.” To his surprise, Miguel rolled his eyes. “What? What’s wrong, Miguel?”

               “Well, I already knew that. You made her shoes,” he said matter-of-factly as he continued tuning his guitar. “Everyone knows what that means.”

               Imelda frowned slightly as she sat down on Miguel’s other side. “Am I the only one who didn’t know that shoes mean an engagement?” Héctor gave a smile and a shrug.

               “Well, now you’re qualified to be a Rivera.” He caught Imelda’s hand as she shook her head, pressing a kiss to it. “And now you’ll know what it means when Miguel makes someone shoes.”

               Miguel made a face. “No way. That’s gross.”

               Héctor laughed. “Well, that’s a long way away.” He opened up his case and pulled out his guitar. “Now, chamaco, let’s hear that song you’re writing.”

               Miguel wasted no time in strumming out his little tune, and the night passed wonderfully with Héctor helping him, with several duets between them and even a few songs coaxed out of Imelda. In all honesty, it was the happiest Héctor had been in a long, long time. He had his family. He had more music than he’d ever dreamed of.

               And finally, finally, after all these years, he didn’t need to worry about saying goodbye.

~

Fin.

[From both me and @im-fairly-whitty, thank you all so, SO much for joining us on the ride that is Teacher!AU. It’s been an incredible year and a half with all the stories, asks, drawings, and friends that have come from this AU. Thank you for sticking out long hiatuses and for being so understanding when we needed extra time. Thank you for your enthusiasm and likes and reblogs. And of course, THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING!!

The main storyline is closed, and the AU as a whole will be after an epilogue from Wit and a fun little side-story from myself, but our inboxes are open to any questions, thoughts, or post-mortem findings. Once again, thank you for joining us, and hopefully we’ll see you again on some of our other projects!]