#next time i have to use buttons or something i���m so sick of lacing shit up

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Chance And The Change; Part Five

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Pairing: (Eventual) Villain!Mirio/AFAB Shie Hassaikai!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our next installment! Enjoy!

Tag List: @hijackser @nonstop-haikyuu @zombiexbody @buttons-beads-lace @moonchhu @swift-omg-no @ectoplasmictoast @tartimaar-bloggeth

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse, canon-typical violence and discussion and use of medication/drugs (pills). Stay safe!]

"They're unconscious, but at least they're alive." Togata settled gingerly back on his haunches after checking over your head wound, wiping his palms on his thighs. "They took a bullet for me." 

What an insane turn of events. You, protecting him! The fact that your Quirk was gone hadn't really sunk in for him yet. Mirio was exclusively running on adrenaline and the remnants of the energy bar he had for breakfast that morning, and his brain could only deal with so much guilt before it started pushing things aside for later, later. 

Deku looked fresh as a daisy despite having come onto the scene via a shortcut made by extreme remodeling, to say nothing of his pitched conflict with Chisaki. And what a conflict! Deku clearly had some kind of crazy-strong Quirk. Incredibly late bloomer?

Another mystery for later.

The green-haired young man cradled Eri's unconscious body in his arms, the tattered red fabric of Mirio's cape wrapped around her small frame. "You guys aren't actually villains, are you?" Deku asked evenly. "Not like the rest of the Hassaikai."

Mirio shook his head. "No, we definitely aren't." Well, so much for my dream. This guy is probably going to throw the whole book at me. "We just…I guess we got tangled up in something a little too big to handle." The blond admitted.

Deku abruptly queried, "d-does your friend wear clothes under their Hassaikai gear?" When Mirio shot him a glare, he took stock of the redness that darkened the other man's cheeks. "I-I mean! I mean, i-if you can get them out of that incriminating stuff--well, the authorities will probably think they're just a civilian. A-And if you come quietly, maybe the police would be willing to…uh, you know, excuse some of your…" Deku appeared to be struggling with his words, rationalizing at a rapid pace. "...stuff." 

"Listen, if I unzip this and they're not wearing anything–"

"Oh! No, absolutely not, you're right." Deku exclaimed frantically. "I'm sorry, I didn't even-I-I wear my boxers and an undershirt, so I always assume-"

Mirio snorted, more than a little amused by Deku's panic. He took the chance and began to pull down the zipper on the front of your uniform, heaving a mental sigh of relief when the white fabric of a tank top met his eyes. Granted, it was a bit stained from the wound on your shoulder blade, but it was something. "We may be in luck. Keep your fingers crossed." 

Luck did indeed seem to be on his side. You were wearing some leggings as well! Mirio untied your boots so he could get the jumpsuit off, the fabric bunching up around your ankles and wrists before he managed to free you from it. Your utility belt clattered loudly on the floor, empty pill sheets crinkling when they were crushed by the weight of your uniform's fabric. 

"Whoa, that's a lot of foils." Deku sounded concerned. "Are they sick?"

Togata sighed heavily. "Quirk enhancers."

Deku remained silent after that, but Mirio noted that he gingerly scooted the jumpsuit away with his foot. 

Togata wasted no time lacing your boots back up and then settled down on the floor with a grunt. Lifting from the floor while on the floor had never been his strong suit, and he was (in a word) exhausted. Plus, the idea of moving you before having your head injury checked out by a professional struck him as not smart.

Deku's hand touched his shoulder, which was still tender even after the work you had done to reset the appendage. "So…you guys were trying to get Eri out? That day I ran into you, I mean." 

"Yes and no." Mirio replied with a grimace, gingerly trying to arrange your body into a comfortable position without lolling your head around too much. "Eri had run off and we were doing our best to see if we could capitalize on the situation, but…well, you've seen Chisaki." 

"Sir had said he was a bad guy, I guess I just didn't realize how bad." Deku gave the blond man an appraising look. "I guess you were sort of…working with us from the inside?"

"If you want to see it that way." Mirio acquiesced. "I'm not gonna' speak for my partner, of course, but I know we both wanted bigger and better things for ourselves. The Hassaikai were a last resort. And once I found out about Eri…sometimes it's easier to ignore ugly stuff happening around you, and sometimes it really, really isn't."

"I can understand that." Deku murmured. 

"What are you going to tell the authorities?"

The green-haired man shrugged. "The truth."

Mirio felt his shoulders dip nearly in time with the sinking in his stomach, and he shifted his weight to one side so he could reach over to touch Eri's face. Her skin was feverish, still damp with tears and sweat. Whatever she had done, whatever her Quirk was, it clearly put an immense burden on her young body.

"You're gonna' be fine." Mirio whispered, knowing full well that she couldn't hear him. "Deku and his friends are going to take really good care of you. They're good guys, after all! They're…you're going to be safe with them, I promise." 

The afternoon sunlight pouring down through the gaping hole in the ceiling was almost blinding after having been in artificial lighting for so long. Mirio wished he hadn't lost his visor, the blond man squinting upwards when a few pebbles came clattering down. Deku did likewise, waving after a moment. "Uravity!" He called gladly, clearly having seen someone approaching.

It turned out to be a smaller woman clad in pink, the nauseous expression on her face vanishing once she got her feet on the ground. She had just…floated down into the hole, like a bubble.

Uraraka?

"Deku! You're okay! We all thought for sure you'd be in pieces!" The young woman scolded Deku, who had the decency to look embarrassed. "Taking Chisaki apart and then falling back down here! You're lucky I still have some energy. The rescue squad is on their way, you…" Uravity slowed to a halt as she seemed to take stock of the state Deku was in. "You…you look fine! How do you look fine?!"

"I don't really know." Deku admitted. "It's got something to do with Eri's Quirk."

The young woman then appeared to notice the bedraggled Mirio. She took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "Wait a second, I know you! You're Lemillion! Gunhead dealt with you before, you little-"

Togata nodded wearily, leaning on a chunk of rubble. "I'm coming peacefully, I promise. I'm kinda’ out of steam after all that." He knew his chuckle sounded forced, but he gave it his best. "You guys have Eri now, and that's enough for me."

"Wh…Deku, did you guys fight or something?" Uravity hissed in what she clearly believed was an undertone. "He doesn't look like he's doing great."

"No, he fought Chisaki. He was trying to rescue Eri too, from the inside." Deku explained in a stage whisper of his own. "They were fighting when I got here."

Mirio closed his eyes as the two heroes continued to talk, their words dissolving into a comforting buzz while he rested his cheek on his knee. Everything hurt. His last thought was one vaguely hoping that the police wouldn't make him walk too far.

…

You stared down at the paperwork, confused. All the words swam together in a jumbled mess, your weary eyes unable to comprehend what they were reading.

The officer across from you pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn't come up in any of our databases. You're free to go."

"O-Oh." You squeaked, snatching up the documents so you could read the headings closely. 

Criminal Database: NEGATIVE

Fingerprint Database: NEGATIVE

Facial Recognition: POSITIVE–UNRELATED

DNA Database: NEGATIVE

Quirk Database: NO DATA RECORDED

That last entry had your mind reeling. You had been sure that you'd be carted off to a nice little cell for the rest of your life, or at least for a majority of it! You were incredulous at your good luck, loss of Quirk and all. Unless that was the reason you weren't coming up in the database? That fateful bullet that some poor surgeon had dug out of your shoulder…

"You're sure you don't remember how you ended up down there?" The officer pressed after you looked up again, his expression tired.

You shook your head. "I'm sorry sir, I really don't. I must have hit my head pretty hard when the ground gave way under me. Some kind of villain attack, right? That's what they said on the news." 

He nodded grudgingly, getting to his feet and passing you a large manila envelope. "Be a bit more careful, alright? As you are well aware, the world is a dangerous place. The envelope is the usual documentation for an insurance claim, should you see fit to open one." And with that unceremonious closing statement, you were ushered out of the small office. 

You walked aimlessly down the street, the envelope that hung limp from your fingers, promising even more things to consider. 

Since you had woken up alone in the hospital, your life had been a chaotic rush of information. All you had managed to glean from your room's television and other patients was that there had been multiple arrests related to the villain attack. Chisaki was taken into custody by the police and subsequently attacked by the League members during transport, which resulted in the stark and brutal loss of his hands. You imagined the two individuals that the League had loaned Chisaki may have had something to do with the interception, but obviously you needed to keep that thought to yourself. 

Shigaraki. 

There was no way the order could have come down from anyone else. With the Hassaikai out of the way, well and truly out of the way, there wouldn't be much in the manner of opposition towards the League Of Villains.

Those loose cannons were running wild and here you were, wondering about something as normie as if you should be pursuing a claim with your insurance. Did you even have villain incident coverage? You couldn't recall which box you had ticked all those years ago. 

You heaved a sigh. You would need to make an appointment first. Maybe they took walk-ins?

…

A week later you left the insurance office, shell-shocked once more.

Someone had authorized coverage amendments on your account, somehow back-dated by several months and paid in full only a few days ago. They had changed your coverage to a higher-tier option and, with the confirmation of documentation from the police, it seemed that you were set to receive a decent payout.

Enough for you to cover the medical care you had needed for your shoulder and secure a month of housing, at any rate. You had yet to nail down a job, but there were always openings. If you could find an apartment and get a regular job, you might actually have some stability in your life. For once. 

For once! 

No more worrying about your Quirk, no more illicit jobs, no more chalky aftertaste from amplifiers. Just a normal, regular life of paystubs and clocking in and out. 

Despite all this good fortune, you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kept waiting for something to go wrong. Months crept by while you waited, anxious, nervous, always looking over your shoulder for an echo of the Hassaikai or the police. Yet…nothing. Nothing encroached on your new life of peace, nothing threatened you in your cheap-but-clean studio apartment. Your shoulder healed up relatively well, all things considered. Your fingers still worked and you had full range of motion, which was more than you had expected. It being a little achy when the weather changed was an easy burden to bear. Your neighbors could be loud sometimes and your new job didn't pay very much, but these mundane issues were almost a welcome change after everything you had been through. 

What was harder to shake was the cold sweats, the tremors and the habitual, almost instinctual desire to pop medication every time something hurt. Instead you forced yourself, hands twitching and body awash with clammy perspiration, to stave off the urges, reasoning frantically that there was no point to it anymore. You had no Quirk to amplify, no gang members to patch up or little girls to save. You were ordinary now, free of those responsibilities.

Ordinary had never had such a bitter taste.

You had known for years that your Quirk was your crutch, amplified or not. It had been a safety net that allowed you to take risks others couldn't, and now that it was gone you found yourself at a loss. Where before you could have at least bartered your Quirk services in exchange for a meal, you would never have that option again. It had always been simple enough to find extra work, even if it was grisly. To have the choice entirely taken from you left you feeling as though you were twisting in the wind, swimming upstream and losing ground every second.

Through all of this hardship, fragile hope took root in your heart. A shabby, ragged little thing, but it still stubbornly grew. You almost dug it up more than once, ashamed of everything that had happened. These lapses of melancholy often went hand in hand with lean weeks, when you were left with too much time to think and not enough shifts at work. The guilt at your involvement in aiding the Hassaikai weighed especially heavy on your conscience, and that guilt kept you from enrolling in what outreach programs your community had to offer. So you endured alone in your tiny apartment, the days seeming to ebb by in a gray blur of not enough. Not enough food, not enough money for bills, and the hours marked by the constant ticking down of the time that was slipping away.

…

A rash of break-ins had occurred over the past few weeks, your own apartment building one of the many that were hit. The weight of helplessness in your chest was becoming more and more prevalent, threatening to choke you while you gave your report to the authorities. 

After they left, you broke down into tears. You couldn't exactly tell the police that you were concerned one of your former comrades may be attempting to locate you in order to exact some sort of payback. The apartments that had been broken into hadn't had anything taken from them, which only served to confirm your admittedly far-fetched suspicions. You were clearly being stalked by a prior member of the Hassaikai, and your hard-won ordinary life was slipping through your fingers. 

Your sleep schedule began to suffer, as every rattling pipe or squeaky hinge set you on edge. Not even the new, sturdier deadbolt that your landlord had installed on your door could ease your mind, because if they had already gotten past the first one while you were at work…

Every night you would lay awake for hours, wondering if it was Rappa or Toya or even Deidoro lurking on the fire escape, hiding in your closet and underneath your bed. You could only hope you wouldn't wake up to Soramitsu gnawing on your kneecaps. Granted, you only had one closet and you didn't even have a frame for your bed, just a futon on the floor, but your imagination disregarded such frivolous details once you turned in for the evening.

However, out of all the people that could have returned from your past, the one who did come back was…unexpected.

Part Six

[lieutenant-simp]

Stuck With Pity (2)

F!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: definitely some PG-13 stuff. Cussing? Angst too but if has a happy ending this time.

Summary : After the whole fiasco in the elevator do you hash it out with Wanda or wallow in self pity. Only your friends can make you go and figure your shit out.

Not my Gif

A/N: I changed R from GN! to F! cause I wanted to. This was requested by one person, and you my friend will get what you ask for. Thank you for showing so much love to the first part too. ilysm. This was not proofread so take it as you will. Please leave me requests!!

Words: 2,202

Read the first part here !

Sitting in the elevator the tears now falling freely from her eyes Wanda can’t even muster the strength to push the button to her floor. The look in your eyes when you looked at her broke her heart, and it’s all her fault. She knew that you valued privacy, everyone did, so why did she go in your head. She just sobs silently trying to think of how to fix this.

“F-FRIDAY, t-t-take me to m-my room” She can barely get the words out before she cries harder. The only thing going through her mind is you, the emotion on your face twisting her heart more and more when she looks at you. You’re friends, you tended to make you nervous, and now she understood why. She ruins everything with you, she went against your privacy, her reasons didn’t matter, she never got permission.

The doors open slowly and she barely makes it to her bed before collapsing again. Her mind, usually in order, to keep her powers under control, but right now she can’t think of anything but you and how she messed up. All her fears were coming true, you hated her.

-

Taking the stairs two at a time, desperately trying not to fall from your distorted vision. Reaching the stairs to your floor you feel as if you cannot even get the door open fast enough. Closing your it behind you fall to the floor. You curl up pulling your legs to your chest and resting your head on them. The tears running down, subsequently wetting your knees as you cry.

Wanda hates you now, that was your worst fear. Not only did she hate you but the utter pity she felt for you. It’s why you never opened up to any of the Avengers. You’re not helpless, you’ve saved their asses multiple times in countless missions, you are far from helpless. But when Wanda looked at you, you knew she thought you were, a lost puppy, and that’s why you never opened up to any of them. Especially her, you loved her and now she thinks you need saving.

The crying subsiding you stand slowly then walk to your bedroom, stumbling slightly before falling into bed, cuddling yourself up in your blankets, and turning on the tv. If you were gonna wallow, you might as well be comfy and warm. You laugh quietly when you pick the show you watch with Wanda, a sitcom from the 50s, the tears already threatening to spill from your eyes again. You breathe slowly trying to focus on the show. You just spent half an hour crying you are not doing that again.

You don’t even register the door opening until Steve says something.

“Hey Y/N/N” You gasp and reach for your gun by your bedside table before noticing who it was. “Just me, sorry sorry. I tried knocking but you didn’t answer and I was worried and-“ you cut him off with you shaking your head. “Well, we-I was wondering what was wrong? You seemed to like my breakfasts and I- Are you crying?”

You turn your head away from him, you didn’t want him to pity you too. Now everyone was going to think you were helpless. You didn’t want to be seen as a kicked puppy.

Steve seems to understand what happened, as he was really the only one who knew your crush on Wanda. “I saw the elevator got stuck, and you were in there with Wanda, is that it?” You cry more and Steve comes over to sit on the chair next to your bed. “I’m sorry, I- should I get Nat or something to come in I don’t know what to do I -“ You cut him off

“She hates me now” You look up at Steve who is surprised by your talking again. “She-she looked in my head and she saw that I liked her, and I know she doesn’t like me back. She looked like I was just some sick animal that needed her pity” Your voice edged with anger with every word spoken. “she hates me” okay back to sad and now you’re crying.

“Well” You look at Steve, who is confused about how to help you, “I can guarantee that none of us pity you because quite frankly you don’t need us. But if it makes you feel better, I cried yesterday” You look at him puzzled. “Well Bucky was out yesterday and he got me flowers and I cried when he gave them to me, they were the ones I told him were my favorite when we trained together before we were frozen. He remembered and I cried” You just look at him more confused now. “you said you didn’t want pity, well I gave you something that made me cry so we’re even. No pity from you when I said it so now you know there isn’t pity from me”

"You didn't see her, she looked like she hated me. She saw it and I don't want to be seen as weak, especially from her" You hear Steve sigh slightly.

"Look Y/N, if she pitied you, she would've done it a long time ago, you would've noticed sooner. She has never given you any indication that she thought about you that way. You've been her shoulder to cry on before as well, you never pitied her. This shouldn't change anything." You nod at his words trying to understand them. You feel your head trying to twist them and prove him wrong, but you know he's right. Deep down you know he is, but you would never dare tell him that, it will go straight to his ego.

You laugh softly “For an old guy who isn’t good with the ladies, you know just what to say don’t you”

He claps for back gently. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t” He removes his hand from your back, “I have to train now, but if you need anything from me, call me”

You laugh quietly, “Of course old man”

-

Wanda sits on her bed, the tears spilling from her eyes occasionally. She sits and watches a show, your show, the 50s sitcom you watch together. She wishes she could go back to when you first started watching it.

“Wandaaaa, you pick this time” You put the remote down and cross your arms.

“No Y/N, you pick I’m making the popcorn” Wanda stands in the kitchen grabbing drinks and indeed making popcorn.

“You put it in the microwave how hard can it be” you pout at her.

“Need I remind you of last weekend when you BURNT IT?!” You gasp slightly. Your face flushing.

“You promised to not bring it up again! As an apology, I accept you picking what we watch” You grin at her in triumph.

“Fine.” That was all she said before grabbing the popcorn and sitting down next to you. Not before grabbing your feet that sat at her end of the couch and putting them on top of her when she sat. Your mouth hangs slightly open, your feet are on her lap. Quickly gaining your composure, she hands you your bag of popcorn before eating a bite of her own. You smile at her softly.

“Thank you Ms. Maximoff” you nod your head slightly in appreciation. Before laughing at the groan Wanda gives you. She puts on a sitcom you haven’t seen before. It looks old. You hear Wanda gasp at you.

“It’s not that old, besides it’s good, you’ll like it” You grin sheepishly at her.

“Did you just read my mind ?” you ask laughing. “Ms. Maximoff how scandalous” She laughs at you.

“You think loud it is not my fault“ You grin at her a blush spreading across your face. You really did love her. And she loved you, you guys just didn’t know it yet.

Wanda sits on her bed, the show, your show, still playing, it's been an hour. Occasionally she’ll cry but it has mostly subsided, her thought however never strayed far from you, your face. Too lost in thought to hear her door being knocked on before a certain redhead slips in. Wanda only notices her company when she feels the bed dip down slightly.

"Hey, Nat" Wand gives her, her best grin. Her voice however hoarse and dry and it hurt to speak. "Wanda, we have been friends for a while now, I don't need to read minds to know that you're upset" She reaches out slightly to grab the other girl's shoulder. Wanda sighs softly, the tears already threatening to spill again.

“I- She hates me, Nat. She hates me. I-I read her mind and she hates me. I was trying to help her and then she looked at me and she was so upset with me and I know I shouldn’t have read her mind but I couldn’t help it. I don’t know what to do. All I seem to do is mess everything I love up. It’s only a matter of time before you leave too” Her words laced with anger at the last sentence. She looks up at Nat with tears in her eyes.

“Oh Wands. She doesn’t feel that what. You’ve read her mind countless times and she never reacted like this. You need to talk to her and- wait did you say that you loved her? Like in a friend way or-?” Wanda just buries her head in her hands.

“No, I love her. I just want to kiss her and tell her how much she means to me and I am always there for her and that she can always rely on me. She means everything to me” She groans “But I fucked it all up like I always do”

“Wanda, it’s okay. She very clearly feels the same way you just need to tal-“ Wanda glared at her

“You didn’t see her eyes, the way she looked at me, she hates me”

“Wanda, she doesn't hate you. she's in her room crying. Your her friend go help her. If you don't want her to actually hate you, go to her.” Wanda seems to nod as if she’s finally understanding. she stands abruptly.

She walks to the kitchen quickly grabbing the popcorn. Her anxiety rises every second that passes and she passes into the hall to the elevator. She waits patiently for it to reach your floor. She walks quickly to your bedroom door before she overthinks it too much and goes back to her room.

Her hand hovers over the door when it opens in front of her. Steve? He's coming out of your room, you guys were close I guess it makes sense but the little pit of jealousy is still there. Steve grabs Wanda arm gently before whispering in her ear

“Please don’t hurt her” Wanda can only nod before going in. She closes the door behind her. She looks at you and your eyes are red and swollen. You turn away from her.

“Why are you here?” It comes out as barely a whisper. If she wasn’t so focused on you she wouldn’t have heard it.

“I’m sorry, for going into your head. I just wanted to know what was wrong. I’m sorry for invading your privacy” You shake your head gently.

“No Wanda, that’s not why I’m upset” She looks at you, confusion written on her face. “I love you, and you don’t feel the same way. You looked at me, and you saw how much I cared for you and you felt bad. You- You pitied me and we’ve talked about how I feel about that before. You know I don’t want that, not from you. Wanda, you mean everything to me. I don’t want you to look at me as if I’m helpless though. I just, I care about what you think, I care about you. I know I’m rambling but I cannot go another day without telling you how I fe-“ You freeze, you feel soft lips on yours, Wanda's. You kiss back and wrap your arms around her waist. She kisses you gently.

“I love you too Y/N, I could never pity you, you’re so capable, and every day I’m jealous of how much you can do on your own” You smile at her.

“You mean that?” She shakes her head and you pull her in for another kiss. This one hungrier, rougher. You pull her on top of you, her legs move to straddle your hips. The food she brought was long forgotten. Her hands move to your hair pulling you closer. You pull back for air, the widest grin spreads across your face.

“You’re absolutely perfect” Wanda leans her head against yours. Before she kisses you back, pouring all her emotions into it. Your hands still resting at her sides. She stands slowly. “Stay please” She smiles at you.

“Of course Y/N/N, I wasn't planning on it” You smile and lean back onto your bed outstretching your hands. She laughs. She puts the popcorn she brought next to you as she climbs into your arms. Her head resting on your chest. “I love you too.”

[yunhoiseyecandy]

ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ (ᴍ)

✕ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

✕ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ!ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟸.𝟶ᴋ

✕ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ᴠᴀɴɪʟʟᴀ, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

─────

it was strange, at first. all the fluffy gowns and early mornings, but you’d learned to get used to all of it. 

it was worth it, day and night, having people dress you up in fancy outfits, only to have them take it off an hour or two later to put something else on. because no matter how annoying or stressful it was starting to get for you, all the pressure being put on the future queen of this palace, it meant so much to seonghwa. 

and that was the main thing that kept you going

the thought of making him happy, something he’d only just recently started to feel;

happiness, love

you two had met only a year ago when you had taken the position as his maid, soon realizing that the person who people have claimed to be a notorious monster of a human was someone who might’ve just been the most beautiful person you’d ever met in your life.

he was pleasant to be around, treating you with such respect that made you feel as if you had known him your whole life, and not only a week.

it didn’t take much time for you both to warm up to each other, soon becoming closer than anyone could ever imagine. and maybe it was because of how much time you’d spent together, or it might’ve been because of how warm and giddy he made you feel inside, but you soon came to realize that maybe you were meant to be more than friends.

but of course, that could never happen, only stories held fantasies where the prince fell for his maid. at least, that’s what you believed.

“y/n, why can’t you just listen?” the food you had brought him had been discarded a long time ago, the only thing that could be heard throughout the palace walls being your screams towards each other. “listen? seonghwa, I can’t just listen,”

“well, why not?”

“because I’m sick and tired of it! you keep telling me we’ll be fine, that we’ll make it through this because we’re strong,” you paused to take a deep breath, the tears running along your waterline threatening to fall. “but how can you be so sure? I’m a maid, for christ’s sake - your maid!”

he hated the words that were spewing out of your mouth, knowing they were only the result of fear and anger, and he knew you were just-

“I”m scared, seonghwa. what if we can’t get through this? what if we’re not meant to be together?” he watched as you sat on his bed, hands running along your skirt to try and fix the wrinkles you had made from fisting the material.

“baby, of course we’ll make it past this,” he walked over to where you sat and knelt in front of you, “just give me some time, okay?” 

and you did, to which he proved he was able to hold himself to his words. the day after you both had broken out in an argument the king himself had asked his son what had happened, concerned for seonghwas well being.

seonghwa told you that his father had known about your relationship with him, but had decided it’d be best to keep to himself about to matter. 

and you were more than grateful for that, telling the king yourself how much it meant for him to accept your feelings for one another. it meant more than the world itself to have his blessing, and when he had told you the queen had adored you since the day you’d started working here you burst out in tears at the joy that was overwhelming your body.

to say you got lucky would be an understatement. you were starting to feel confident being in a relationship with seonghwa, now that you were allowed to show public affection towards him. it was an amazing feeling, the first time you kissed him in front of other people, finally being able to claim the man you love.

and whenever he would wrap his arms around you, pulling you in for a deep kiss, it would make your tummy do backflips. his simple actions becoming habits that were no longer meant for only in private.

and god were you excited to start this new chapter in your life.

—

“love, you look beautiful.” seonghwa said as he gently grabbed your hands in his, his warm skin easing your nerves. 

“seonghwa, shut up.”

he giggled, looking over your features. your hair was tied up in a tight bun, the baby hairs that layed along your hairline popping out. he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment, and so far everything was going as planned.

‘do you, seonghwa park, take y/n l/n as your beloved wife?”

seonghwa felt tears spring in his eyes, trying his best not to hold you by your waist. but as soon as he looked over to you, he tried to blink them away as fast as he could, noticing that you were already crying.

“I do.”

the priest smiled and turned towards you, book in hand. “and do you, y/n l/n, take seonghwa park to be your beloved husband?”

choking back a sob, you spoke out the words you’ve been waiting to say all day. 

“I do.”

“my god, am I exhausted,” seonghwa plopped down on the chair closest to the window, looking outside to the palace garden. “me too, baby. do you want to go to bed?”

he pondered over the thought for a moment.

of course he wanted to go to bed. it’d been a long and tiring day for both of you. so of course his body longed for the soft pillowy feeling to engulf him.

and as much as he longed for sleep, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of need in his stomach, his eyes moving to the light coming from the bathroom where you stood doing your night routine.

“seonghwa? are you listening to me?” you shouted, hands moving the warm, damp cloth over your body. you hated feeling all sticky, the sweat from earlier starting to build up. 

“yes,”

“good, did you hear me?” pulling the towel around you, you stood up and picked up the white lace in your hands, admiring the material and how it felt. if he’s tired, this can wait until tomorrow.

“baby, can you come out please?” he swished the water in his cup around some, pulling the glass up to his lips. 

thinking of his next actions, he placed the cup on the window seel and pulled at his tie, unbuttoning the few first buttons of his shirt.

the only thing on his mind right now being how gorgeous you are; pretty, plump lips that he so badly wanted to engulf in his own, and you had such a beautiful body, too.

he absolutely adored the stretch marks that layed across your waist and tummy, loving to move his fingers along them whenever your shirt rose up just enough.

and your thighs? god, the amount of times he’d wished he was in between them is concerning-

“are you okay, love? you have that serious look on your face that you only have when you’re deep in thought.” you giggled, opening the door to reveal you in one of his shirts.

“y/n,” he hesitated, unsure if he should say it or not. “I want to make love to you.”

you paused, body tensing up while pulling the covers down to the end of the bed where he was standing. “w-what?”

walking up to you he pulled you flush against his body, “you heard me, love. may I?”

you were speechless as you rested your hands against his chest. you felt the heat start to pool between your legs, back arching into him ever so slightly. “I-”

“please.”

he softly met his lips with yours in a soft, but meaningful kiss, his hands resting dangerously low. you felt him nip at your bottom lip and you moaned, giving him perfect access to taste you.

“seonghwa, you can touch me more if you want.”

and so he did. he pushed you back and onto the bed, hands flying to push up your shirt. but before he continued his eyes flickered to yours as if asking permission, and you nodded to let him know it was okay.

your mouth fell open when his hand gently rubbed against your nipple, mouth coming down to lick at the perky nub, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“seonghwa, shit.”

his lips felt like feathers while he trailed down your body, hand pulling down your underwear and tossing it to the side. “you sensitive, my love?” and some part of him told him not to feel bad when you didn’t respond.

because as soon as he spread your legs open, mouth trailing sloppy, wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, that’s when he knew you most definitely were sensitive.

and that thought had him wanting to taste you even more

“you’re just my sensitive little baby, aren’t you? such a good girl for me,” his hands ran over your thighs while he placed soft kisses on your clit. “more, please.”

his senses were on overdrive as his tongue slid over your slit, collecting your wetness and dipping the tip of it into your needy hole. “feel good, baby? you’re so fucking sweet,”

your back arched and you clenched around him while you looked down at the view below you. his head was dipped between your legs, and you don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight. “y-yes, gonna come-”

he pulled away at your words, hands coming down to pull his pants down with his underwear.

“I want you to come on my cock, love. maybe later you can come on daddy’s tongue.”

kissing his way up your body, his lips met yours in a more heated kiss this time, tongues moving with each other. “see, baby? you taste so damn good.”

you wrapped your legs around your waist, arms finding their way to rest at his shoulders. his skin was warm against yours, touch easing your burning skin. “I can’t wait to be inside you,”

he ground down into you, tip grazing your clit, and it had you moaning for him to fuck you already.

“you’re so wet, love.” he pushed inside some, eyes roaming your face for any sign of discomfort. “can you take all of me?”

you nodded, and he pushed in, bottoming out and moaning at how tight you felt around him. he knew you relaxed some, so he knew you weren’t in pain when he pulled back out and pushed in again.

“fucking hell, love. you look so beautiful like this, screaming my name like the good girl you are.”

he felt so good inside of you, the vein running along the bottom side of his cock grazing your walls. “s-seonghwa, I can feel you everywhere,”

“yeah? love how good daddy’s making you feel?”

his cock twitched when you clenched around his cock, hand resting at your waist to steady himself. “c-close!”

“me too, love. come on, soak my cock.”

you squirmed under him, legs tightening around his waist. he shoved his head in the crook of your neck and groaned while he came in you, filling you up till it leaked out of you.

he layed on his elbows for a moment, taking some time to get his breathing back to normal.  

slowly he pulled out of you, kissing your forehead and walking to the bathroom the get a washcloth. 

“are you okay, baby? was I too rough-”

“I’m okay, seonghwa. promise,” you said and offered him a cheeky smile. “good,”

“can we cuddle?”

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

[ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ]

@galaxteez

─────

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

─────

[mandadoration]

you’re a fine girl - iii

summary: Agent Whiskey would really like you to say his real name for once, and you refuse, playing this little game of his until he finally makes you say it. The circumstances for it aren’t exactly ideal, though. 

word count: 1, 909

pairing: agent whiskey (Jack Daniels) x reader

warnings: canon-typical violence (and then some), swearing

chapters: i | ii | iii

Read this on AO3

As much as you want to, you can’t find the power to visit Whiskey while he’s recovering. He’s fine, obviously, with the medical advancements and Soda’s expert skill, he’ll be up in no time. But every time you stand in the elevator, hand hovering over the button for level sub-4, you feel sick.  You retreat back to your office and ignore the video calls from Ginger and Soda. You’ve even gone as far as to shove Whiskey’s black Stetson in a cabinet under your desk, and you consider doing the same to the necklace he had given you, but instead opt to just wear it and tuck it into your shirt out of sight. It weighs heavy against your neck, but it makes you feel the slightest bit better. Maybe you can just ignore everything until you finally grow a pair and do something about the worry that’s been nagging at you. 

You, however, cannot ignore Ginger and Soda when they walk into your office unannounced. 

“Can I help you?” you ask tiredly, taking off your Statesman issued glasses to rub your eyes. 

“What's wrong with you?” Soda asks bluntly, and Ginger smacks him. “What? I’m being honest. You’re holeing yourself up in your office more than usual.” Ginger rolls her eyes. 

“What he meant to say,” she stresses, “is that you’ve been… down ever since Whiskey came back Saturday.” You sigh and put your glasses back on. “We’re worried. This isn’t like you.”

“I’ve been working,” you say. A total, complete lie, and they know it too. “There’s a lot of paperwork that comes with severe injuries sustained in the field.” Not a lie. “Besides, why would… There’s no reason for me to go to the medical wing.” The biggest lie. 

“Brandy--”

“Whiskey’s been asking for you,” Soda blurts out, and Ginger smacks him again. “Ow! Quit that!” You tense and crumple a paper in your hand as anxiety swells in your chest. Well, there goes the contingency plan mock-up you had made for Ale’s mission. 

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Ginger stops her harassing to stare at you incredulously. 

“Seriously?” she sighs. “You don’t know?” You throw your hands up in the air. 

“Once again!” you say, almost hysterically. “What am I supposed to know? Everyone keeps asking me that, I really don’t know what the fuck--”

“For an intelligence supervisor, you’re really fucking stupid,” Soda says, and Ginger doesn’t hit him this time, instead nodding in agreement. You’re taken aback. 

“Excuse me?”

But Ginger and Soda are soon manhandling you out of your office and shoving you into the elevator, paying no attention to your complaints as they head to sub-4 and practically drag you to Whiskey’s recovery room, ignoring the curious stares that follow the three of you. They push you in, and shut the door, and your heart leaps to your throat when the lock clicks. You bang against the wall. 

“Let me the hell out!” you shout, but all you can hear on the other side of the door are the receding footsteps of the traitors you call friends. “I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell when I get out of here--”

“Brandy?”

If your heart was hammering before, it completely stops at the sound of his voice. There’s the shuffling of sheets behind you, and you slowly turn around with wide eyes as the blood drains from your face as Whiskey strains to sit himself up, looking much worse for wear that you had initially feared. You really should stop him from overexerting himself, but you’re glued to the floor. “What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice sounds so tired, and it’s only made worse when he tries to crack a smile. “Here to see little ol’ me?” he rasps, but dissolves into a coughing fit, holding his ribs as his face contorts in pain. Once he calms down, he looks up at you again, and frowns. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that,” you finally say, voice small as you slowly make your way over to him. You keep a good distance away from him still. 

“‘m better now that I’ve seen you,” Whiskey says, running a hand over his face. He motions to the chair next to him. “Take a seat, darling, you’re making me anxious.” Your eyes dart over to it, and then back to his face, and eventually lower yourself into it. 

“What happened?” you ask. Whiskey winces. 

“Dealers somehow found out I was there to take down their operation,” he explains. “Got ambushed, got the shit kicked out of me, got the hell outta dodge.” He chuckles. “Told ya I didn’t want to go back.” You play with the impeccably white trim of his hospital blanket.

“Why didn’t you tell us as soon as you got on the plane that you were hurt?” you whisper. Whiskey runs the hand not stabbed full of IVs through his greasy hair. 

“I knew you would worry.”

“It was irresponsible of you.”

“And it was irresponsible of you to not take care of yourself,” he says sharply. “Seltzer’s been telling me how you’ve locked yourself away since I got here.” You curl inwards and lean away from the bed. Whiskey sighs. “I do apologize, sweetheart,” he says after a moment. “I’m going crazy from being stuck in here. Didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s fine,” you mutter. You’ve had your fair share of bedrest, and it is not fun. He shakes his head. 

“No, it’s not,” he says. “There’s no excuse for treating you like that.” A beat. 

“I said that you didn’t have to get me anything,” you say to change the subject. 

“And I said that you couldn’t stop me,” he laughs, but it wheezes out. Whiskey slowly reaches a hand out, pausing when you tense up, but keeps going when you don’t stop him. He loops his forefinger under the chain that’s peeking out of your collar and pulls it out from under your shirt. “You like it?” he asks, and he sounds uncharacteristically nervous, and he’s playing with the collar of your shirt instead of pulling his hand away. “I know-- Well, I don’t see you wearing any fancy jewelry or nothing, but I saw this and thought the opportunity was too perfect. Like, c’mon, it’s a braided chain--”

“‘Made of finest silver from the north of Spain’?” you finish. You’ve gotten countless jokes about the song, but it’s endearing when it comes from him. He quirks a smile. “Andalucia is technically Southern Spain, Agent Whiskey.” His smile drops. “N-not that I mind,” you stammer, afraid you’ve said something horrifically wrong. 

“I know you don’t,” Whiskey sighs. You purse your lips. 

“Then what’s wrong?” He shrugs. 

“I guess I dreamt you saying my name in the elevator,” he says, following it with an empty laugh as he looks away. “Ain’t that the cruelest trick the Sandman could play? He’s always been a son of a bitch to me. It had sounded so sweet...” You swallow and grab his hand where it rests on your collarbone, and you scoot your chair closer until your knees press against the edge of the bed. You hear his heart rate jump up on the monitor. 

“I… It wasn't… It wasn’t a dream.” Whiskey turns your hand over until he can lace his fingers through yours. 

“No?” he murmurs, and he brings your hand to his lips as he presses a kiss to it. He closes his eyes and keeps your hand there for a moment before letting it rest in his lap. “Mind reacquainting me with the way my name sounds coming from your lips?” Your mouth is suddenly very dry, but you lick your lips and the way you feel warm with how his eyes watch you is enough to give you the little push you need. 

“Jack.”

It’s barely audible over the rapid beeping of the monitor, but a pained noise emanates from his chest, and the hold on your hand tightens. “Again.”

Then louder this time, “Jack.” A disbelieving laugh. 

“Again.”

“Jack.”

And Jack Daniels yanks you closer to him until you’re halfway on the bed to bring you in a bruising kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, an arm wrapped around your waist as he presses as much of his body to yours as he can without yanking the IVs out. His heart rate is through the roof, rapidly beeping on the screen next to him. Jack’s mouth is warm and yours is pliant as he nips at your bottom lip, digging his fingers into your side. His voice is growling when he says, “Good girl,” against your lips.  

You’re one second away from slinging your leg around his hips to straddle him when Vermouth bursts in with wild eyes and a flushed face. 

“Whiskey! What’s wrong-- Oh.”

You nearly throw yourself out of Whiskey’s embrace, but he keeps you close as he glares daggers at the cowering medical assistant standing in the doorway. “You ever hear of knocking?” he drawls. Vermouth’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. 

“It’s just that-- Well, your heart rate it, um, we thought that you were, uh-- We thought you were in danger,” they stutter. Whiskey motions around the room. 

“Do you see any dangers here?” Vermouth makes a ‘kind of?’ motion with their hands. 

“You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself--”

“Kid, I’m fine,” Whiskey interrupts. “Now, shoo,” he says, “get,” and waves his hand at Vermouth, who has never looked more eager to leave the situation. And they’ve seen a lot of shit. You bury your head into his shoulder as you sigh. While Vermouth wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, you know they’re blabbing about what they’ve seen to anyone and everyone. 

“That was so embarrassing,” you whisper.  

Whiskey just laughs, pets your hair, and lets you keep your head where it is, only moving when you slide in the narrow bed next to him when your leg goes numb. The worry that’s been constricting around your heart starts to loosen with every breath he takes in, and he must sense that because he holds you as close as he can, minding the bandages and stitches and his bruised ribs. “You’re mighty affectionate today.” 

“I’m allowed to be after the emotional trauma you put me through,” you mumble. “I still have your hat.” Whiskey just hums and runs his fingers over the skin of your upper arm. He clears his throat. 

“Brandy, I… I have to tell you something,” he says, and there’s that nervousness from the day he was scheduled to leave. His heart rate picks up again, and he presses kiss to your hair to give him a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Whiskey says, “what you mean to me, and I know I’ve been a real ass sometimes, but I promise you, it’s all in good humor.” You’re glad you’re not hooked up to a monitor because your heart is pounding in your ears. “And… and I can’t promise anything, not after--” His voice catches, and he clears his throat. “But I, um, what I’m trying to say is--” You take pity on him and reach up to kiss the underside of his jaw, rough with stubble. 

“Don’t you know, Whiskey?” you say. “I already know.”

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore @lavenderl3mons

you’re a fine girl Tag: @mrsparknuts @jokersdoll @ariasfandom​ @blondecity​ @yodaswrinkles​ @everythingaboutnothingstuff​ @cloud-of-roses​

[oh-roman]

baby, baby

Harry coaxes you through pregnancy troubles.

Y/N woke up to the peaking sunlight and the excruciating pain of contractions. Furrowing her eyebrows, she palmed at her baby bump, trying to lift her body up. She tried breathing, like Harry would insist but the pain began to be too much. Before she knew it, a scream had emitted from her lips and her neck was lunging backward.

"Harry," Y/N called, her head still draped back in exhaustion. She didn’t scream his name—she just didn't have the energy. However, since he found out about the pregnancy, Harry made sure to keep the music on low in the house and always keep an ear perched just in case she needed him.

His heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs, busting through the door with a look of urgency. He ran over to the bed, kneeling next to her, with a hand on the base of her neck.

"Inhale—exhale." He repeated, with focused eyes.

His right hand rubbed small circles on her belly just above the belly button. She looked him in the eye, breathing steadily with glossy eyes—, then the baby kicked and tears drooled from her eyes with a quickness.

"I️ know...’ts alright—you’re alright," He whispered softly, turning around quickly to yank the side table drawer open and rummage through it for the heating pads she liked. "Shit," he hissed, only finding an empty package.

Her cries were beginning to fill the room and so he felt guiltier than ever. He hesitated jogging downstairs to fix her a cup of tea, because that's what the "So, You're Going to be a Dad" book suggested.

"Harry," She began, breathlessly. "I think something's wrong. This never happens." She was stuttering with a shake at her bottom lip and he knew if the baby were to kick one more time she couldn't take it.

Nodding, he kissed her forehead and jogged over to the closet. He rummaged though the mess and pulled out some overnight clothes, stuffing them into a duffel bag.

He sat beside her once more, propping her body up and setting her on the edge of the bed, slipping her shoes on hurriedly.

"Alright, love." He said, carefully picking her up bridal style. She bit her lip, a little nervous that she weighed too much in her pregnancy.

"I can walk if you want me to." Y/N said quietly, holding onto his neck; a part of her wanting to tell him and tge other wanting to keep her thoughts to herself.

Snickering, he squatted down a bit, to pick up the duffel bag then kissed her forehead.

"I’ve got you, petal. You know tha'," He said, heading down the stairs.

. . .

Her eyes remained squinted the entire car ride. Tears threatening to fall with every contraction.

"’M right here." He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Nodding, she gave him the slightest smile, attempting to blink the tears away. They pulled up to the emergency drop off at the hospital and without even turning the car off, Harry hopped out of the car and ran over to her side. He grabbed the duffel bag and picked her up once more—just as careful as the first time. She held onto his neck with her life, as the pain grew stronger with all the movement.

"I need a doctor!" Harry yelled, walking into the lobby.

A nurse quickly jogged over to us with a wheelchair, a clip board, and pen. Once Y/N had settled into the leather seat of the wheel chair, along came another nurse to push her down the bright hallways.

Despite the overwhelming emotions that seemed to cave in on her, she attempted to focus not on the glaring white lights around her, or the sudden motion sickness of being wheeled around, but the reassurance of Harry’s fingers laced around hers. As difficult as it was, Y/N imagined just how worth all of this would be after bringing their baby boy home. Just the thought of Harry snuggling the baby to his chest, made her heart tug.

"How many months along?" A nurse asked, placing a hand on my baby bump. Gasping at the sudden pressure, Y/N gripped Harry’s hand harder.

"You're hurting her!" Harry yelled, his sudden outburst startling the nurse.

Soon enough, they finally made it to an empty room, where Y/N was carried onto the white linen of the hospital bed. Her clothes were replaced with hospital cloths and a breathing mask was placed over her nose and mouth, while the nurses scrambled around the room, jotting things down and managing her heart rate. Y/N’s legs were propped up and parted to get a better look at her opening.

“Looks like the baby is ready.” One of them spoke.

She shook her head, mumbling “no”, though it was inaudible under the mask. Harry immediately held both her hands and leaned down over to tower over her.

“Shh...” He cooed. “‘Ts going to be alright.”

“It’s too early.” She spoke up, loud enough to hear her over the mask.

“‘M going to make sure they don’t hurt you or the baby. I’ll be right here, the entire time. I️ promise.” He said, placing whisper kisses on her forehead. “You’re so strong, pet.”

Y/N hadn’t noticed the doctor came in until she felt Harry’s touch leave her body. Her eyelids fluttered open to the sight of the doctor speaking to Harry with furrowed eyebrows. The nurses were dressed in head to toe hospital garment, popping gloves onto their hands. The doctor pointed toward Y/N and Harry’s eyes followed before Harry nodded to something inaudible.

“Hey, love?” Harry squatted next to the bed, running his knuckles down the side of her face. As soon as he did that she knew something was up. “Remember when we spoke about a natural birth? Well-“

She was already shaking her head no. “I want to do it natural, Harry. I hate needles, you know that.” It was the fear implanted in her mind since she was a girl—a small fear that grew into so much more during adulthood.

“Y/N,” He sighed, biting down on his bottom lip, then glancing back at the doctor. “It’s too risky. The doctor recommends it,”

She decided the lights above her were too bright—eating into her skin. The room had grown louder than she wanted, with the nurses speaking and the machines whirling. Eventually, she just closed her eyes briefly and nodded at Harry’s plea. He pecked her cheek and she felt a tear hit her skin as well. Harry stood up and wiped at his eyes, before letting the doctor know.

Y/N last sight of Harry before the medication kicked in, was him biting at the corner of his bottom lip, before mouthing something she didn’t make out until later. “Love you.”

Y/N closed her eyes before the doctor had began readying the needle for insertion. She didn’t want to see it and unfortunately her mother wasn’t there to coax her through the pain. Soon, however, her body was pushed slightly onto her side and the needle had entered her spinal cord. A small whimper escaped her throat, until she couldn’t feel anything and all she heard was the rushing of blood in ears.

. . .

The sweetest feeling of all was Harry rocking gently with the newborn in his big arms—the baby whining ever so often. Harry had cried more today, than he had in years. His eyes were red and tired, but a smile hung at his lips when he looked at his little one.

[overthehilly]

Perfect Day (Makki Wedding)

This may be the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written (and possibly the most OOC), but I love this one-shot so please enjoy. 

Max never believed in marriage. He thought it was a social construct/trap to ensure your money is sucked dry and to live the rest of your life in a boring suburbia. It didn’t help that Max was accustomed to his parents’ trainwreck of a marriage; they were constantly fighting, screaming at him, and living in a shithole of a house. Max even thought that weddings were dumb; stupid churches, stupid slow songs, and stupid families crying. Max never thought in a million years he would ever think of getting married.

So when Max was down on one knee asking Nikki to be his wife, he couldn’t even believe it. The whole thing was a blur to him. Max just woke up one day, laying next to the beauty that is his girlfriend, and decided he needed to buy a ring in that moment. Max drove himself to the nearest jewelry store and bought the most beautiful ring he could afford. For months, Max pictured and planned the day to the second; he was going to take Nikki to the docks of Lake Lilac, where they first admitted their feelings, and propose. It was like a dream to him. Almost unreal.

Max wished he recorded the proposal because he wanted to see Nikki’s face light up like that every day for the rest of his life. Max got down on one knee as the sun was setting over the water, Nikki was oblivious until she turned around to say something. Nikki was overcome with emotions as she said yes. It was the perfect day. Almost.

The actual perfect day would be their wedding. Max was currently sitting in David’s bathroom, fiddling with his tie with shaking fingers. He had practiced a million times before to make sure he got it right, but today the nerves got the best of him.

“Are you alright?” Neil asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, it’s just…it’s just…this damn tie!” Max threw it over the sink and ruffled his mess of hair. “I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this.” Max screamed.

“Dude, it’s okay. You’re just having cold feet.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s the whole marriage thing. I can’t.” Max wasn’t making sense anymore. He sat on the floor trying to collect his thought.

Neil excused himself, saying he would bring Max some water or bourbon or something. Max shook his head, trying to figure out why he was so nervous. I mean it’s Nikki, the love of his life. He wanted to marry her, and it wasn’t like this was a big wedding. It was just a small gathering of friends, little family, on Lake Lilac. Why was he so bothered?

“Hey, you need some help?” David peeked through the door with a slim smile.

David had learned over the years to approach Max very carefully during this moments. Usually, David would bust through and just shake Max from his problems, but right now he knew the young man was on the edge of his mental state.

“I just can’t get it right. My hands are too shaky.” Max admitted meekly.

David took the tie and held it out for Max; the groom got up from the floor and allowed David to adjust the tie for him. Max’s hands were still quivering and he felt like he was going to melt from the pressure.

“Tell me, buddy, what’s wrong?” David flipped the tie through the knot, adjusting it perfectly.

“David, I’m not getting into this-”

“Max, please talk to me.” David was at eye level with Max, staring straight at him with a deadpan expression. David has never been so serious in his life.

“It’s just…what if I’m not…”

Max stopped himself. Although he had grown closer to David, he did not want to break down in front of him. Max didn’t want to admit that he was afraid of being a shit husband, father, and everything in-between. It was a fear he had pushed aside until today.

“What if…I’m not good enough for her. What if I’m like…my dad.” Max whispered, hoping none of his groomsmen would hear him in the other room.

David closed the door slightly so that no peeping toms (or Neils) would listen to their conversation. David placed his hands on Max’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Max, I’ve known from the moment I met you that you’d become the best man you could possibly be. You love Nikki, and she loves you too. You are made for her. And for your dad, you were more of a man than he was at ten. I believe in you.”

Max bit his bottom lip hoping it would stop the tears forming in his eyes. David was more of a father than his own, and to hear him say this was enough to push him to cry. Max wiped his eyes and coughed to hide his weakening demeanor.

“Thanks, David. I appreciate it.” Max replied.

“If you need anything else, I’m always here.” David assured as he patted the younger boy on the back.

David turned to leave the bathroom to only feel Max’s arms pull him into a hug. David smiled, remembering Max first hugging him outside the pizzeria, and returned the embrace. Max quickly pushed him away and fixed his hair.

“Don’t tell the gang.” Max quoted. “I’ll meet you outside.”

David nodded and returned to the rest of the groomsmen. Max pulled on his suit jacket, adjusting the buttons so it would look perfect. It wasn’t until halfway he realized that his hands weren’t shaking anymore. He felt better… confident even. Max was ready.

_

Max took another deep breath, waiting until it was his queue to stand at the arch. He took in his surroundings, trying to remember every detail for future reference. David had made the wedding arch by hand, using cedar wood and flowers found from around the camp, and placed it right by the dock where Max proposed. It was beautiful. All of their friends and family were sitting patiently (or however patient they can be), chattering about the venue. Neil, David, Space Kid, and Harrison waited behind him. They were talking about getting drunk at the reception. Well except David. He was currently crying into his handkerchief.

“Guys, I can’t believe this is happening.” Max spoke with a small smile forming on his face.

“God Max, I never thought you were capable of any emotions.” Neil patted Max on the back while the groomsmen laughed.

“I’m just…happy.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Gwen gave Max his queue to take his place. The groomsmen went to meet with their respected bridesmaids and Max stood at the arch with the officiant. Neither Max or Nikki were very religious, so they hired the only person they knew who could legally marry them: Quartermaster.

“Do you want to do the blood sacrifice during or after?” Quartermaster suddenly said. Max side eyed the crazy weirdo.

“Uh…never.” Max replied. Quartermaster nodded and sucked a snot rocket back into his nose.

The music began suddenly, Max turned to watch his bride walk down the aisle. Nikki appeared with her dad, a strong, brown-haired man with a grim smile. Max and Nikki’s father got along well, he just wasn’t happy to be around Candy. Max gazed upon his beautiful bride, her luscious hair laid in curls with a flower crown sitting gracefully on top of her head. Nikki’s dress was a simple sheath style with a lace belt around her waist. Nikki smile brilliantly towards Max, his heart skipped a beat. Nikki’s father kissed her on the head and took a seat next to a crying Candy. Not because her baby was getting married, but because she felt old as shit.

‘You look beautiful’ Max mouthed while QM recited his speech.

Nikki blushed, squeezing her groom’s hand in excitement. Max just wanted to kiss her and run away, he just wanted it to be official finally. Max looked towards their guests, David was crying behind him still. Nikki’s bridesmaids, Nerris, Ered, Sasha, and Tabii (yes really), were almost in tears also. Max’s family sat towards the back, looking somewhat bored but faked content for the sake of their family. Max looked back at Nikki.

“Now, our bride and groom will say their vows. Boy first.” Quartermaster sniffled.

“I, Maxwell Singh, never thought I’d fall in love. I never thought I would get married. That was until I met you, Nikki. You have changed my life for the better, you brighten my day, you made me actually give a shit. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I vow to make you the happiest woman alive, to always take you out on hikes when you feel sick, and I promise to be the perfect husband. Or at least as perfect as I can be.”

Tears started to stream down Nikki’s face, her smile illuminating even brighter than before. Max squeezed her hands and hid his face. He didn’t want anyone to see that he was almost in tears too.

“I, Nicolette Bradshaw, promise to love you even more than I love adventure. I use to try to find danger every day until I met you. Then I wanted you to help me find danger. There is no other person I want by my side for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to start this new adventure with you.”

“With the power invested by me, by the internet, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may sacrifice-I mean, kiss the bride.”

There was a couple of chuckles from the audience, who probably did not know that Quartermaster was serious, but most were awes as the couple kissed. Max pulled in Nikki for their first kiss as a married couple. All the nerves and cold feet melted away instantly, for once it was perfect bliss.

_

The wedding party continued to the Mess Hall for food and drinks. Mainly drinks. Both sides of the family were heavy drinkers, accompanied by the young adult friends, it was just a drunk free-for-all. While everyone was dancing and partying, Max and Nikki sat outside the building, holding each other in a loving embrace.

“I can’t believe it,” Nikki started “We’re married. I’m Nikki Singh. I’m your wife.”

“I know, I’m so fucking happy.” Max kissed her forehead again. “I just can’t put it into words. I love you so much, Nikki. I haven’t been this happy in so long.”

Nikki caressed Max’s rough cheek, although he was cleanly shaven it was still prickly from a shitty razor, and stared into his green orbs. It was almost as if no one else existed in the world. It was them against the world. Max kissed his wife again, more passionately, with more vigor than before. Sparks numbed their lips, creating a deeper need for each other.

“Nikki…my wife…” Max said between the long kisses.

“What is it…husband?” Nikki giggled against his lips.

“We should…make this official.” Nikki looked at him questionably. “You know, consummate it and all.”

Nikki laughed at her husband. Nikki gave him another kiss, placing her hands in his wild hair, tugging and pulling them closer. Max reciprocated, so entranced by the fact that this is his wife now.

“Lead the way.” Nikki said finally, leaving a trail from his lips to his neck.

Max leaped up from his spot, smiling from ear to ear. He picked up his lovely bride, carrying her oh so gently, making sure he would not hurt his gorgeous girl. Max made his way over to their honeymoon cabin, which was just a little ways away from the camp, giggling like children.

Neil and David were leaning against the open doors of the Mes Hall, watching their friends run away together. Neil was a little tipsy while David was weirdly sober. Almost childlike.

“Aw, they wanna be alone.” David sighed. “They’re so in love and-”

“David, they’re fucking.”

Neil took another swig of his drink, returning to the party to dance with one of Nikki’s cousins, or maybe an aunt. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. David turned away before tainting his innocent eyes.

“At least…it’s after marriage?” David assured himself.

“Yeah keep telling yourself that.”

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (3/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex). If you are someone who uses my usual distinction between M and E to decide whether to read something I wrote, this is more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one of which is S1 canon (in this chapter) and one of which is not but happens in Chapter 2. This chapter contains descriptions of violence.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

ART! The first of @pompeiiablaze’s wonderful art pieces accompanies this chapter and is included below in the text. Also go give her some love.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 3

The phone on Emma’s desk rang, the jangly sound of an actual bell inside the workings of the ancient telephone. She jumped, then picked up the receiver.

“Sheriff’s station.”

“Emma, it’s Graham. I’ve found… I need your help.” She could hear his breaths panting down the phone line.

“Are you hurt? Where are you, are you sick?” she asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She should never have let him go, Emma thought. She should have followed him.

“Not me, I… There’s been a murder. We need to…” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he sounded calmer, more professional. “I’ve found a body in the woods. About a quarter mile west of trail marker 47. Bring a trail map so that you can locate me. Also, there should be some evidence kits in the storage room, do you remember I showed you? Pack up some evidence kits and get down here as soon as you can. Also flashlights; it will be dark soon.”

“Okay, got it.” Hanging up, Emma jerked up out of her chair, out of the comforting pool of light from her desk lamp, and made for the storage closet. Maybe it was a bear attack or something, she thought, and not a murder. Graham himself had laughed at the idea of a murder happening in Storybrooke. He’d found the very idea hilarious.

In mere minutes, she was behind the wheel of the squad car. Flipping on the lights and the siren for the first time since Graham had shown her where the switches were, she peeled out of the parking space.

By the time she parked along the side of the road at the closest hiking trail crossing to marker 47, the remaining daylight was gone and a damp, foggy chill had settled in the air. Shouldering the bag of evidence kits and clicking on her flashlight, Emma set off down the trail. At marker 47, she stopped and pulled her phone out, opening the compass app. “West,” she muttered, setting off in the right direction once she had confirmed what the right direction was.

She was so focused on the compass and not tripping over any fallen tree limbs, she almost collided with Graham where he was standing and waiting for her. His hands reached out and gripped her arms to steady them both.

“Over here,” he said, pointing. Emma stopped and reached into the bag, producing the other flashlight to give to him.

They made their way carefully forward. “Emma, have you seen a dead body before?” Graham asked.

She thought back to the days when she’d been living rough, on the run for jumping bail on a couple of minor thefts. She thought of Cleo. “Yeah, I’ve seen a dead body.”

“Just to warn you, the scene is bad.” He glanced back at her. “I’ve called the coroner, but we should have enough time to investigate before they get here to pick up the body.”

Heart racing, Emma continued to follow him. She didn’t know the first thing about a proper crime scene investigation; she hoped Graham did.

“Before you touch anything, put on gloves,” Graham said.

Emma rolled her eyes. Well, she knew that much. Dropping her bag on the ground, she stepped forward.

The first thing she saw were men’s dress shoes, the toes pointed up to the air. She walked closer, moving the flashlight up the body; when she got to the torso, her gorge rose and she had to swallow, breathing sharply through her nose. It was hard to tell because the suit was dark, but the entire front of the man’s suit appeared to be soaked with blood. Underneath the shredded fabric, she caught a glimpse what she feared were partially exposed organs. Averting her eyes from that sight, she jerked her flashlight up to the face.

(x)

“Holy shit, this is Mr. Gold.”

“Yeah,” Graham agreed.

“Could an animal have done this?”

Graham had put on gloves from the bag she’d brought, and he knelt down and carefully moved Mr. Gold’s tie aside before undoing a few of his shirt buttons. “These look like stab wounds to me. Definitely not claw or teeth marks.”

Her mouth seemed suddenly full of saliva, and she swallowed again. “Is there a weapon?”

“Not that I’ve found.” He gestured to the side. “There’s a shovel, but it didn’t do this.”

Emma went over and looked at the shovel where it lay next to a shallow hole. “Did you check to see if something was buried here?”

Graham shook his head. “The ground below seems to be undisturbed. Like Gold was in the process of digging the hole when he was killed, not that he was filling one in.”

“Or maybe the killer was digging the hole?” she asked.

“Perhaps.”

Emma pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the shovel and the hole. “Should I take pictures of the body?”

“Be my guest.”

Trying her best for professional detachment, Emma took a series of photos of Mr. Gold’s corpse. “Did you find anything else?” she asked Graham.

He circled the small clearing, examining the ground. “Before I lost the light, I could tell that two people came from that direction,” he said, pointing.

“Wow, you’re quite the tracker.”

He flinched. “I couldn’t make out any clear footprints, though. The earth is too dry.” Graham began to work, wrapping one of the evidence bags around the blade of the shovel and another around the handle, despite dismissing it as a possible murder weapon. Emma looked around, at a loss for how she could help. There didn’t seem to be any other evidence, and short of pulling plants out of the ground and putting them in evidence bags, all she could do was stand there and continue to avert her eyes from the body.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked Graham. “I really think you’re coming down with something.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, but he still looked pale to her.

She heard a crashing through the underbrush, making her jump and swing her flashlight around toward the sound.

Two paramedics approached, carrying a stretcher with a black body bag slung over it. And with them—

“Regina,” Emma said.

“I expect to be notified when a dead body is found in the woods, Sheriff,” she said, addressing Graham and ignoring Emma completely. Regina wore an immaculate cream-colored suit and heels, looking completely incongruous as she stood there in the woods with her hands on her hips. “Why do I have to hear about it from Doctor Whale?”

“I was planning to let you know first thing in the morning,” Graham said, stepping forward and blocking her view of the body.

“That’s not good enough. Who is it?” Regina made to walk around Graham, and he stopped her with a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s quite gruesome, Madam Mayor,” he said, but she pushed him aside and marched over to where the paramedics were going through the motions of looking for life signs from the corpse.

It was Regina’s silence when she saw Gold that told the tale of how shocked she was, rather than any kind of exclamation she might have made. She was still as a stone, staring down at him, and when she spoke, her voice was like ground-up glass.

“Who did this?”

“We don’t know,” Graham answered. “But rest assured—”

“I don’t want your assurances!” Regina said, turning on a dime to white-hot anger. “Do you have any idea…?” She stopped herself and exhaled. “We have to find who did this immediately.”

“We will,” Emma said, trying to sound confident. She didn’t know if the source of Regina’s emotion was due to the loss of control of her town or some feeling she had toward Gold, but whatever it was, it was laced with something Emma had never seen from Regina before: fear.

Finally and mercifully, the paramedics began the process of putting the corpse inside the body bag and zipping it closed.

“The dag— the murder weapon, did you find it?”

“It wasn’t left at the crime scene,” Graham said, “but once Doctor Whale has examined the entry wounds, we should have a better idea of what we’re looking for.”

Regina opened her mouth, only to snap it closed again.

“You knew Mr. Gold pretty well, Regina,” Emma said. “Did he have any enemies?”

Regina laughed darkly. “Who in this town wasn’t his enemy?” She started to pace but stopped short after only two steps. “Killian Jones.”

“The harbormaster?” Emma asked.

“He hated Gold more than most,” Regina said.

The paramedics had the body strapped to the stretcher and started making their way back toward the hiking trail. With nothing left that they could do in the woods, Graham, Emma, and Regina followed.

“I’ve never heard of any bad blood between Gold and Jones,” Graham said.

“It was a long time ago, but it still festered,” Regina said. “Bring Killian in and question him. Search his apartment, search his office, search every boat in the harbor. Believe me, Killian Jones should be your number one suspect.”

~*~

“What can you tell me about Gold’s death?” Sidney asked in a rush, jumping in front of Emma as she tried to make her way through the crowd at Granny’s and get an infusion of caffeine. It was her second night in a row working late, and it was taking its toll. All she wanted was a simple coffee, but with the chaos currently swirling in the diner, there wasn’t going to be anything simple about it. She stared at the lapels of Sidney’s immaculate suit, feeling slightly nauseated by the overwhelming scent of his cologne.

“If you think I’m going to talk to you after—”

“Come on, Deputy Swan, this is the biggest story to ever hit this one-horse town. You have to give me something. What was the state of the body? Do you have any suspects?” Sidney tried to give her a disarming smile. With a glance, Emma could tell that he wasn’t the only one in the crowded diner waiting for her to speak.

“Sheriff Humbert gave his official statement earlier, and that’s all we’re going to say about it during an open investigation.” She pushed her way toward the counter, as the patrons around her grumbled and reluctantly moved aside.

“The question I have is, who’s going to inherit all of his property?” Granny said, both to her and to anyone standing within earshot.

“Did he have any family?” Emma asked.

“There were rumors of an estranged son, but no one in town’s ever met him, far as I know.”

“Well, someone that rich must’ve had a lawyer. Maybe more than one. I’m sure they’ll sort it out. That part of it’s not really my job,” Emma said.

“It’s your job if somebody killed him to inherit his money,” Ruby pointed out, tapping on the counter with a long, red fingernail.

She had a point. There was so little Emma knew about Gold that it was hard to know where to begin. She had hoped Graham would have some ideas of how to investigate this killing, but he’d been holed up in his office for most of the day.

Returning to the station, she eyed him through the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the room. Taking a deep breath, she approached.

“Did you hear from Dr. Whale?”

Graham was staring into space and didn’t answer her.

“Graham?” Still no response. “Graham!”

Finally, he looked up. The only word she could call up to describe his facial expression was haunted. “What is it, Emma?”

“I asked if you heard from Dr. Whale about the medical examination of Gold.”

“Oh, yeah.” He picked up a report from his desk, almost as if he’d forgotten about it. “Cause of death, puncture of the right ventricle of the heart. Other stab wounds to the chest and abdomen, fourteen in all. Wounds are consistent with a short sword or dagger of at least a twelve inches in length. Markings on three ribs consistent with a curved or irregularly-shaped blade.”

“Wow, okay, that’s useful. Although, sword? Really?”

Graham shrugged.

She huffed in frustration. “Graham, I know you’re… I don’t know, going through some stuff and maybe aren’t feeling a hundred percent. But isn’t this kind of a big deal? Don’t we need to be out… investigating?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and then stood up and brushed past her, continuing through the station and out the door. Emma chased after him. She found him standing on the sidewalk outside, looking around in confusion at the darkened street.

“Graham?” Emma said, approaching him slowly.

“It’s my heart. I need to find it,” he muttered.

“What? Wait, is this another way of saying you can’t feel anything?”

“If I follow the wolf, I’ll find my heart,” he said, turning to face her. His eyes were fever-bright, she noticed now that she was close to him. She wondered if he would heed her if she insisted he go home and rest.

“Okay, you’ve lost me,” she said in as calm a voice as she could muster. “What does the wolf represent?”

He shook his head in frustration, his hand reaching out to grip her arm. “If I follow the wolf from my dreams, it will help me find my heart. I saw it in Henry’s book.”

“You’ve been talking to Henry about this?” She replayed what he had just said in her mind. “Hang on. Graham, you really think you don’t have a heart?”

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense. It’s the only thing that explains why I don’t feel anything.”

“Listen to me, Graham: you have a heart. If you didn’t, you’d be… you know. Dead.”

He shook his head as she spoke. “I don’t, she took it. She’s keeping it somewhere and I have to find it.”

“Look, I can prove it to you.” Emma reached for his hand, and as she took it she could feel him trembling. Bringing their joined hands together to his chest, she pressed his hand down, her splayed fingers fitting between his. There it was, the rhythmic thump-thump of his heart. Other than his pulse being quick, his heartbeat seemed normal to her untrained senses. They stood close, knees almost touching, and Emma looked into his eyes. “Feel that? It’s your heart.”

“It’s a trick.”

“Graham, let me take you to the hospital; you’re not well.”

A white flash of movement in the dark street caught Emma’s eye, and she turned to look. Staring back at her, at them, was a large white wolf.

“What the fuck.”

Graham’s gaze followed hers. “There it is, I’ve seen it before. I saw it in the woods last night.” “When you found Gold?”

“Come on,” he said as the wolf loped away. Graham chased after it, and there was nothing for Emma to do but chase after Graham.

“He better not lead us into the woods,” she muttered, glancing down at her boots. “I’m not exactly prepared for long-distance running.”

Pushing aside the thought that she was currently chasing an animal like this was some kind of Harry Potter story, she focused on what Graham had said about seeing the wolf in the woods the night before. She’d wondered how Graham had come across Gold’s body in the first place; now it seemed he’d come across it following a wolf. She wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it last night when she’d suggested an animal attack, not that wolves were in the habit of using twelve-inch blades.

The wolf led them across the grass of the cemetery, its green color fading as fall was beginning to turn into winter. The animal stopped in front of a stone crypt and sat on its haunches.

“This is Regina’s,” Graham said, still approaching.

“Graham, be careful.”

“The wolf won’t hurt us.” He looked up, seeming to focus on the symbol over the door. Was it tree branches? No, she thought, squinting at it. It was deer antlers.

“Why are we here?” Emma asked.

“Because of my heart. It’s in there,” he said, gesturing toward the crypt.

“Graham,” she said helplessly. How do you convince someone that their heart hasn’t been stolen from their chest? He was already pulling uselessly at the door to the crypt. “Okay, you know what? Let’s find out.” Maybe if she could show him there was nothing here, then he would let her take him to the hospital. Positioning herself at his side, she gave the door a sharp kick, forcing it open.

The inside of the mausoleum was small, dominated by a sarcophagus in the center. There really wasn’t much to the space: some recesses in the walls, one containing an urn but the rest with nothing in them. Emma turned on a flashlight as Graham fumbled around, getting more and more frantic.

“There has to be something here. A hidden door. Something.”

“Graham, there isn’t. It’s just what it looks like.”

“So, first you try to take my son,” came a steely voice behind them, and Emma whirled around to face Regina in the doorway, “and then you try to take my lover, and then you defile my father’s grave?”

“Take your who now?” Emma blurted. This hardly seemed the time or place to explain that she and Graham weren't like that, but it was tempting to do so.

“Don’t blame Emma, it was my idea. It’s my fault we’re in here looking,” Graham said.

“And what, pray tell, are you looking for?” Regina asked. Her red lips were a violent slash across her face in the dim light.

Graham seemed to shrink under her gaze. “Nothing.”

“Graham, you look unwell,” Regina said, taking his arm and steering him out of the mausoleum. “Let’s get you in bed so you can rest.” Emma followed, unsure of what to do.

Graham pulled away from Regina, taking two stumbling steps backward. “I’m not going with you.”

“Oh, but you’ll go with Miss Swan?” Regina said viciously, gesturing at Emma.

“Nuh-uh,” Emma said, her hands up. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“It has nothing to do with her.” He pulled himself taller, looking down at Regina calmly. “I thought the reason I couldn’t feel anything was because of me, but it’s you, Regina.”

Regina shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “And so you’re leaving me for her?”

“I’m leaving you for me. It’s over between us.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to you to deserve this,” Regina said, stalking toward Emma. “To have you keep coming after everything I hold dear.”

“I told you, Regina, it’s not her.” Graham sounded more lucid than he had all day, Emma couldn’t help but notice.

“None of this started happening until she got here,” Regina shouted, her hair whipping against her cheek as she jerked her head around from Emma to Graham. “Can you honestly tell me she’s not to blame for your sudden change of heart?”

Emma had had enough. “Regina, did you ever stop to think that maybe the problem isn’t with me, but with you? Henry came and found me. Graham asked for help from me. Both were miserable. Maybe, Madam Mayor, you need to take a good hard look in the mirror and ask yourself why that is. Why is everyone trying to get away from you?”

Regina’s eyes flashed with rage. “Both of you need to get out of my sight.” “Gladly,” Emma said, backing away. “Come on, Graham.” With one last look at Regina, he joined Emma and they walked out of the cemetery together.

They walked in silence for awhile until Graham broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I kind of lost my mind.”

“It’s okay. You were sick and stressed out… And kind of heartbroken.”

“I don’t know why I let myself get mixed up with her,” he said.

“Because it was easy. Not feeling anything’s an attractive option when what you feel sucks.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering against the chilly, damp air.

“I guess,” he said. “Still, it feels a little bit like I’m waking up from a nightmare, and none of the things I did in the nightmare make sense now that I’m awake.”

Emma chuckled softly. “I’ve been there.” She reached out and tentatively patted his upper arm, the sleeve of his leather jacket smooth under her hand. “You’re gonna be okay, though. You believe that, right?”

He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.” They came to the sidewalk and started back toward the sheriff’s station.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though,” Emma said. “Hmm?”

“What the hell was up with that wolf?”

Graham shook his head. “I still have all these memories in my head, or what feel like memories. I have dreams that seem so real when I wake up. Dreams of this world where I’ve…” He stopped and turned to face her. “Dreams where Regina is a queen, and where she orders me to murder…” He frowned, his brow wrinkling. “I think it’s Mary Margaret, Regina wants me to cut out her heart…” His breaths have started to come quick and shallow, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow.

“Okay, calm down, let’s not go down this road again, not until you’ve had some rest—”

Graham gasped, his hand going to his chest.

“Graham? What’s wrong?”

He fell; Emma had never seen a human being topple over like a dead tree, but that’s what Graham’s body did. She made a grab for him, trying to slow his fall, but his head hit the pavement hard.

“Graham!” She dropped to his side, her fingers going to the pulse point of his neck, but she was too cold and scared to tell why she wasn’t feeling anything. “Graham, please wake up. Please.” Fumbling for the phone in her pocket, Emma pulled it out and dialed 911.

Chapter 4

[honeydroplet]

Golden Desires (M)

word count ; 4.1+k words

genre ; smut, romance, slight fluff

summary ; Kim Eunji (19) is an A star student in her university who keep her status clean...unlike her roommate, Jeon Jungkook (21).

warning(s) ; prosistute!jungkook, collagestudent!OC, age gap (?), smut

The annoying beams of sunlight woke up Eunji from her long slumber that morning. Normally, it would have been the creaking and banging of Jungkook’s bed frame clashing up against her wall, so the sensation was peaceful for once. She rolled on the other side so that the light wouldn’t be in her eyes anymore, hoping to gain at least fifteen more minutes of sleep, but her body went off the bed length and fallen to hard floor, blowing the air out of her lungs.

 Groaning in pain, Eunji fluttered her eyelashes open at the harsh impact and quickly got off the floor, stretching her arms high above her head and let out a high pitched noise of awakening. Her voice was stuffed up so she cleared her throat before getting on her bare feet. She pushed her back forward and cracked the spine before trudging towards the kitchen, her feet sticking on the polished hardwood until she touched the vanilla creme carpet. The nineteen year old girl poured a bowl of cereal and as she walked her way to the table counter, she saw a girl about her age, eyeing Eunji with black tousled hair in knots and she was only in her red and white laced lingerie, a red wrinkled oversized  flannel, unbuttoned and her upper body was covered in dark spots. She definitely must be one of Jungkook’s customers. Eunji let out a long sigh at the dazed girl. The confused teen opened her mouth to say something but Eunji cut her off by hitching her thumb to the left and replay her instructions to every customers who spend the night with Jungkook. “Exit’s that way if you’re wondering. Take the elevator down to the lobby and you can go call a cab to take you home.”

 The stranger closed her mouth and looked at the door Eunji was pointing to. She turned her head toward Eunji, giving her a slight smile before exiting out the complex. Eunji rolled her eyes and turned back to her breakfast. Not a minute later, a loud yawn echoed from the hallway. Turning her head towards the noise, she was greeted by her roommate, half naked, jeans unzipped and hanging from his hips so she can see his defined v-line, entering the kitchen. “Morning Eunji.” The raven haired male greeted the pre-teen girl seating at the counter. Eunji looked up slightly in reply. “Morning.” The girl’s eyes traced the male as Jungkook made his way to the refrigerator and took a long chug from the orange juice jug. Unlike the stranger, Jungkook looked very…attractive. Not by the fact that Jungkook was wearing a fraction of the amount of clothing the girl was. The way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down by every chug, his eyelashes fluttering like angel wings, and the way the orange juice was oozing out of the corner of his mouth and slithering down to his toned abs. He was just the definition of sexy. Hell, Jeon Jungkook could make anything he touch looks sexy. “You sleep well?” Jungkook asked, as he placed the jug to its original place and Eunji went back to her breakfast. “For once, it was good.” Jungkook nodded and grasped a handful of grapes and sat next to Eunji, both not saying a word. About another few minutes passed until Jungkook broke the silence by slamming his head down hard on the tabletop and cursed under his slightly minty breath. “Shit!” Eunji looked up from her bowl of milk to see the older grunting. “What’s wrong this time?”

“That fucking bitch didn’t pay!” Jungkook grabbed a fistful of his hair in rage. He kept punching the marble counter, causing my bowl to vibrate from the harsh impacts. “Calm the hell down!” The brunette teen remarked before getting up and place her bowl in the sink. “You don’t understand! This is the fourth time this week.” Jungkook walked to Eunji, whining like a puppy. “If Kiseop hyung finds out, so help me, he’ll rip off my cock and make me choke on it!”

“Not my problem. You’re the fucked up prostitute here.” Eunji replied as she turned the water off and place down the bowl to soak. She didn’t approve the job Jungkook is doing, but as long as he pay for the water bills on time and his sexual life doesn’t interfere with her, Eunji could care less about the pretty boy. “Please Eunji-ssi! Won’t you help me out here?!” Jungkook begged trying to make eye contact with the teenager. The teen set down the cloth she was using to dry her hands and finally made eye contact to the older man. “I’m not leading you money if that what’s your thinking.”

Jungkook pouted. “Why? You know I’m worth it!”

“Really, Jungkook?”

“I’ll give you whatever you want!”

“I’m not interested in anything that you could possibly buy for me.” Eunji pointed her forefinger at the half naked male. “Look I know you don’t do one night stand, but come on! Don’t tell me that you are not interested by this!” Jungkook flexed his arms and display his body to the female. Eunji eyed the male up and down. The flawless milky skin, the toned abs, his belly button piercing, the attractive jawline, his trademark smile, the mini tattoo of the feather on his tailbone, those brown doey eyes, his silver graduated lobe piercings, the always-perfect hair. Honestly, Eunji would have just dragged Jungkook to his room and let him fuck her like there’s no tomorrow. But Eunji has more dignity than that. The teen leveled her eyes with the raven haired male and walked away from Jungkook. “I’ve seen better!” She directed her way to the bathroom. “You know what, Kim Eunji? Fuck you!” He hissed at Eunji. “You wished Jeon Jungkook!” Eunji yelled back, sticking her middle as she slammed the door behind her, making the argument halt.

It was about 2:30 by the time Eunji arrived back to her house after her classes in college. She had her history test on Monday and she needed every last second to study - also including the next four hour shift she has at the cafe she works at. She grabbed her house key from her pocket and plugged it into the door. But before she could turned the doorknob, the door opened inward and for the second time today, Eunji was glared upon a stranger, but this time a male.

“Well look what we have here.” The boy standing at the door, tracing his eyes on Eunji’s feminine body like raw meat. Everything about this man made Eunji want to punch him in the face. The boy’s dark brown hair was sticking out everywhere. His shirt was torn up and didn’t looked like it’s been washed for decades. He had a pocket full with twenties and a pack of cancer sticks, making Eunji realized that he was one of Jungkook’s stands. Eunji rolled her eyes at the man and as she did so, the male grasped on her wrist and dragged Eunji into the house. She was stared at about five or seven men and women, waiting for their turns. The smell of wine and tobacco overdosed the room, making Eunji cough a little from the pungent smell. “Hey, Jungkookie!” The brunette yelped to Eunji’s roommate, whom must be in another room. “Is this the girl you’ve been babbling about?” The girl snapped her head at the male, trying to get out of his grip but there was no use.

 “You’re a tough one, are you?” Smirking at Eunji, the male pulled her closer. “Hey! How’s about you sleep with me instead if you don’t want to have sex with Jungkook.” The rude male smirked with slightly whiten teeth towards the teenager. "As if anyone would be willing to have your dick shoved in their ass, Hyunseung…” A voice from the hallway muttered and everyone’s head turned to see Jungkook standing in the room with his arms crossed. “You were begging when we first met, Kookie.” The guy, whom name was ‘Hyunseung’ looked at the elderly and glared at him. “That’s why I make everyone one pay like you do.” He narrowed his eyes at Hyunseung. “Now back off.” Jungkook threatened. “Why? I think she wants me.” Hyunseung lightly kissed the back of Eunji’s neck and younger twitched by the touch. That made the pretty boy snapped. Jungkook walked up and pulled the two apart, keeping the male’s tattered shirt in his balled up fist. “I said back off, Hyunseung!”

Before Jungkook could turned his head toward Eunji to ask her to leave, she was out of the door, without any warning.

  Eunji sighed when she saw the clock struck to 11 o'clock. The cafe has been closed for more than four hours ago. She turned back to her biology textbook, eating a slice of key lime pie, still wearing her

She was about halfway finished with the book when the ringtone of the front door alerted her that someone entered the shop. “Sorry we’re closed now. Please come back at 9.” She said as her nose was buried in the crack of the pages. “Then why are you still here?” Eunji was startled by the familiar voice and whipped her head to see her roommate with his arms crossed with one eyebrow raised. “J-Jungkook?!…”

“At your service,” Jungkook replied not breaking his expression. “Now, why are you here? I thought your shift ended a few hours ago?” He questioned again. “It did. But I needed a quiet place and I’m sure I couldn’t focus if I’m hearing you moan for hours, banging against my wall. Plus I didn’t knew how long your 'friend’ was going to be there.” Jungkook gave her a look. “So what, you were planning to stay here all night?”

 “No!” The youngster shot back to the male. “I-I was going to give you a more time and if they were still there, I would a kicked their asses to the curb!” Eunji growled beneath her teeth. “You? You almost got raped by a pervert!”

 “He didn’t rape me!”

 “Yeah, because I was there to save your petite little ass!”

 “Okay…” Eunji tsked. Then a thought popped into her head.“Wait a minute, why are you here?” Jungkook shrugged. “You didn’t come back home and I kind of got worried sick about you due that I’ve blowing up your phone with text messages so I walked here to see if you were alright.”

 “You were worried about me?” Eunji blinked in disbelief.

 “Of course I was worried, what do you take me as? A cold hearted person?” Jungkook uncrossed his arms and looked at the female. “You’re my roommate! If anything happens to you then I would have get my ass broken to pay for every bill myself!” Eunji laughed at his joke. “I’m touched…Wait, you said you called me right?”

 Jungkook bobbed his head as a reply.

 “Then how come my phone…?” She dug into her pocket to see her buried in text messages and multiple voice messages. “I forgot I turned off my phone so I could study.” Eunji kept on staring upon each message with a smile across her face. Surprisingly the other was worried sick about her. “So will come back home?” Jungkook asked Eunji who was grabbing her stuff in her backpack. “That depends, are your clients gone?”

 “Yeah, I kicked them out an hour after you left.”

 “Why?”

 “Because after you left, I got the courage to call Kiseop about quitting. Of course he blew some steam but we finally made an agreement” Jungkook hitched his thumbs into his pocket nonchalantly. “You- what! You can do that?” The girl was having trouble wrapping this around her mind as she hung up her apron. “So let me just get this straight, no more one night stands?”

 Jungkook shooked his head.

 “No more half naked people roaming around our house?”

 Again, Jungkook shook his head in agreement.

 “And you’re not a prostitute anymore?”

 “Well about that…”

 Eunji looked at him, shocked.

 “Jeez I’m just pulling your strings,” Jungkook chuckled. “After they left I went out and got a full time job at the music shop about an hour away from here.” Eunji gasped at the male. “Really?”

 “I started on Sunday.” Jungkook announced and Eunji just smiled like an idiot. “Jungkook! That’s amazing!” The teen threw her arms around his neck, hugging him with all the strength she had. “Thanks…” The brushing of his breath against her skin snapped Eunji right back into reality and she quickly pushed Jungkook away. “S-sorry…” The girl looked down as her cheek bloomed into a radiant red color. “Don’t be,” Jungkook painted his trademark smile as his arms coiled around his roommate’s hip and looked into her eyes. “I like being close to you.” Eunji’s eyes were as big as saucers, her heart racing. “Really?” Jungkook nodded. “In fact, why don’t we get more closer…” Before she could replied, Jungkook slightly tilted his head and smashed his lips on her petite one’s. Eunji was awestruck by the older’s bold move. Jungkook’s lips were so moist and softer than Eunji could have imagined but she felt it was too risky. The teen tried to push away the male but Jungkook had a good grip around her waist and his lips were stucked on her like glue. As much as Eunji tries to back away, the pretty boy was one step ahead of her.

 Eunji went so far that she was practically crawling on top of the table in chances to detach her with the raven haired male so she brought her hands to the older and shoved Jungkook off of her. The two stared into each other eyes for what seem like an eternity, chest falling up and down, hearts beating up against their rib cages. By the look in Jungkook’s eyes, he was overpowered with lust and sexual desires while Eunji’s was still in searching mode, believing that this is just dream. The teen was trying to think of any reasons to not be doing this with her roommate. But in those few moments, she couldn’t think of one good solution whatsoever why she can’t so Eunji forfeit and relinquished herself to what her body’s been begging and prayed for a long time: Jeon Jungkook. Without warning, the teen wrapped her arms around Jungkook’s neck and pulled the man’s irresistible lips back to hers. Her eyes were closed as she shoved her pink muscle from the older. She hadn’t realised until now that Jungkook wanted to this more than she did. But by the way how Jungkook was looking into Eunji and his hand roaming around her pink uniform, it was clear that Jungkook was begging for Eunji’s body as well.

 As their hands continued to roam around one another’s bodies and tongues wrestling, lust was overdose in their body. There was heat and passion that neither of them had for such a long time. It was final that each other wanted to do one another and we’re going to get what they desired for. “Can I?” Jungkook smirked as he slowly unzipped Eunji’s maid costume. “Why not…” the brunette whispered back to black haired male, her hands placed on the tea table. A small chuckle escaped from Jungkook as he quickly unraveled the annoying fabric to see her beautiful laced bra, covering her mound. He hadn’t wasted any time to admire in girl’s smooth rich skin and attacked her hardening nipple with his lips. Eunji didn’t even try to even soften her moans, she want to let the male know how much she been wanting him and only him. Once the ex-prostitute finally realized he given enough attention to Eunji’s chest, Jungkook hitched up Eunji’s skirt to see her panties soaked. Jungkook pulled off everything excepted for her white socks and spread her legs to see her wet clit. The teen didn’t feel embarrassed at all, but when Jungkook was hypnotized by the beautiful teen’s organ, the blush started to flow into her face. “Your face matches your lingerie.” He blew hot air against her sensitive area, making her squirm in delight. “S-Shut up..” Eunji covered her eyes with her arm as she could felt Jungkook’s nose nuzzling in her folds. “I’m gonna make you feel good, sweetie.” Jungkook swiped his tongue at her folds, and later started to make a rhyme, making Eunji a moaning mess, Jungkook was bobbing his head up and down, sucking her dry, memorizing the sweet nectar that was spewing slowly. He went back to her clit, humming a song to vibrate the wiggling organ. Eunji felt like her eyes were about to rolled behind the back of her head and her hands were holding onto Jungkook’s hair for dear life.

“Jungkook I feel like I’m about….to…” Jungkook felted her clit throbbed around his plump lips and quickly let go of the wet, hot clitoris. “I can’t let do that, Eunji-chan.” Jungkook teased as he ripped his black tight shirt of him and pulled down his pants and boxers together, his erection pointing towards Eunji. “Do you need a little help there?” Eunji smirked as she pointed at Jungkook’s friend, going down on her knees. “If you insist.” Without a second to waste, Eunji shaped her mouth to an “O” shaped and slipped the organ inside her mouth and looked up at the pretty boy who was holding on the table. Eunji’s first lick sent shivers down his spine. Her first suck sent Jungkook to Cloud 9. Pleased by the reaction she got, Eunji went faster and faster making Jungkook more weak to his knees. Jungkook started bucking his hips rapidly. “Eunji p-pull out….” She didn’t listened on purpose and added in a humming noise to the concoction making Jungkook lose his mind. Jungkook bites his lips hard enough to taste the blood and grasped Eunji’s hair, pulling her mouth off of him with a loud “POP!”

“You’re such a bad girl…” Eunji was later pinned on top of the table, her legs spread wide open. “Kim Eunji…I want to fuck the sense out of you.” Jungkook rubbed his hardening erection on Eunji’s wet pussy. “Then show me.” Eunji pecked Jungkook’s lips and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. “Do you have condoms?”

“You’re talking to a retired prostitute! Of course I have protection with me.” Jungkook dig into his back pocket to behold a black packet in the air. Eunji took the plastic wrapper and teared it with her teeth. He grasped on the plastic condom and securely coated his cock with the plastic, pumping it a few times. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come!” He looked into Eunji’s hazed eyes. “Jungkook, just fuck me alright!” Eunji cupped her roommate’s cheeks and Jungkook smirked. “With pleasure.” And with that, Jungkook grabbed on both side of the teen’s waist as the tip of his cock disappeared into her pink, puckered hole. “Fuck!” Jungkook sworn because of Eunji being tight and the heat was so different, yet Jungkook found that he could thrusted inside the younger easily. And to be honest, Eunji didn’t looked like she was in pain…at all.

“J-Jungkook…” Eunji moaned, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Wow, you really have fingered yourself really well.” Jungkook mutter once his balls were lodged inside the youngster. Eunji’s eyes blinked. “H-How did you…”

“Come on, I’m your roommate and I hear you moan once in awhile, plus you don’t do stands and I know you don’t have a boyfriend so it was kind of easy to connect the dots!” Jungkook smirked at the dazed Eunji. By the time he finished his last word, without any warning, the older male rammed inside the teen, knowing that she could take it. Eunji yelped, feeling the ping of pain shooting through her back with every thrust Jungkook made - she would definitely be feeling that in the morning indeed.

As Jungkook was repeating his action of pulling out so that the tip was inside and then pounding all the way back in hard, the teen collapsed on her elbows, touching her back on the cold table. The roommates took a while to catch their breath until Jungkook’s eyes were locked on something nearby. “Are those kitty ears?” He reached over to captured the pink furred feline ears with two silver bells on each corner and laughed hysterically. “I’ve never seen this before. How come you never wear this?” Waving the headband at Eunji, the teen bites her lip, looking away. “Because I feel…like a…”

“Like what?”

“A…slut…when I wear that. Plus people look at me weirdly.” That made Jungkook softly chuckled at his roommate’s cuteness. “Well,” Jungkook then turn Eunji’s head and placed the accessory on her head. “I think you look beautiful…” Jungkook looked at his cute feline teen and pecked her nose as he kept on thrusting into her. He alternated between bursts of fast and furious rams, and stretches of slow and deep ones - the bells on Eunji’s kitty ear kept clashing every time their skin slapped together. The teen’s eyes rolled close, Jungkook’s cock rapidly hitting against her g-spot, making Eunji feel like her was melting with the addictive sensation. Eunji slurred a few pleads of “More!” and “Faster!” while moaning Jungkook’s name in the café, letting it echo in the hallways. The air around them was get hotter and they yelped loud enough to wake the gods but they didn’t care one bit.

Minutes passed before Jungkook felt his groin throbbing vigorously. He wanted to keep going on, he also wanted to experience what he’s been waiting for.

“Shit! I’m gonna come, Eunji.” Jungkook choked on his words as Eunji nodded and swung her arms around his shoulder. “O-Oppa…J-Jungkook Oppa~I’m gonna come t-too…” The kitten moaned, arching her back, ripping the skin on his back and that was enough for Jungkook and Eunji to come at the same time. Jungkook rode out his orgasm, rolling his hips into the kitten maid, until his penis was wet and flaccid. The room finally became silenced as Jungkook pulled out his motionless cock out of Eunji’s penetrated hole, which was still lightly twitching a bit. “Eunji…” No answer. “Eunji?” He looked down to see the girl fast asleep in a cat pose, making the older male smirked and pulled out his phone to snap a photo of the beautiful sleeping creature.

“You’re such a good girl…Eunji…”

Something weird was brushing on the back of Eunji’s neck hair which made the teen woke up from her slumber. She stretched her arms wide, as she swung the covers off of her, she spread a smile across her face. Jungkook was quietly sleeping with his arm latched around her half naked body. Eunji laid back down to see the gorgeous man, that at last Jungkook was just hers now. Eunji curled up next to him, smelling the scent of his milky white skin until Jungkook snapped his eyes slowly, rubbing his eyes to see Eunji who still had her kitty ears from last night. “Good morning, Kitty!” Jungkook smiled and pecked his roommate’s lips. “I guess it wasn’t a dream after all.”

“What?”

“Last night at the café.” Jungkook pulled out a sly smirk and rubbed his nose against the others. “I have the painful scars to prove it.” Jungkook rubbed his back as Eunji cocked her eyebrow up. “You’re in pain? My whole torso ripped into half thanks to you.” They both laughed and Jungkook held onto to Eunji’s chin. “You were asking for it.” They both kissed once again and cuddled into their arms.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes Kitty?”

“You still didn’t quite answer my question about why you quit being a-”

“Because I wanted to be with you…” Eunji blinked a few times at the older male, who was turning on his phone. “You quitted for me?” Jungkook nodded as a response. “Well you said and I quote: 'You would never date anyone like me!’. I want you, Kitty! I want you to be the person I wake up with, spend my days and nights with, and sleep with.” Jungkook confessed to his kitten, making her speechless. After get back out her trance, Eunji leaned forward and captured the other’s lips passionately until she spot something in the corner of her eye. “Jungkook?” She unlatched her lips from Jungkook. “Yeah?”

 “What’s that on your wallpaper?” Jungkook looked at his phone to see Eunji’s nude photo he took as his screensaver. “It’s you.” He smiled with confidence to the pouting girl. “Jungkook, delete that! Now!” The kitten whined into her lover’s eardrum. “Why? You look so horny in this one!” He smirked and smashed his lips against his lover's, starting their Gods know how long make-out session.