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muntitled · 7 months

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𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐢 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲!?

Didn't anybody tell him being back in the booth will leave him singing solo?

Pairings: Lee Jihoon x Fem!reader | Slight!Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: A kink confession in couple's therapy might just save your relationship

Warnings: Established Relationship, Insecurities, Gender Roles, Slight!Toxic Relationship, Fluff, Slight Angst, Smut (+18 Minors DNI), Masturbation, Dom/Sub undertones, MeanDom!Jihoon, Sub!Reader, Innocence Kink, Slight DDLG, Ownership Kink, Hair Pulling, Spitting kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Humiliation, Submission Kink, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Oral Sex (Male rec), Breeding Kink, Slight!Hate sex

Word Count: 3.9k

Song: Mine | Beyonce

Woops

"I'm aware that I'm on this mission to get my boyfriend to actually want to fuck me again but why does it feel like I've already failed on the very first step?" A whine so childish, and so petulant rips itself from the depths of your throat but Jihoon's running shower silences the pathetic noise.

While he showers, you're left sitting on the floor surrounded by a graveyard of designer lingerie. A too small Victoria's Secret set is immediately abandoned in its box, leaving you howling into the phone as you wriggle yourself into the complicated underwear.

Your confidence wanes as you adjust to the intricate bows and string of the set, wincing as you pull up the pink garter belt until it's clasped around your thighs. Soon enough, you're padding across the floor of your walk-in closet, hesitantly approaching a mirror.

"I mean, this says 'slut' but what if 'slut' isn't what he's attracted to?" Your hand curls tightly around the width of your phone, "Jihoon is an anomaly! What if I end up making a complete and utter fool of myself?" The mirror is nestled between Jihoon's clothing rack harbouring all his neatly pressed designer pieces. You let the sight of his intimidating fashion waver your already fragile confidence.

"Are you hearing yourself?" Scoffs Mingyu through your phone's speakers, "What man has ever in the history of the universe not been attracted to 'slutty'? I feel like that might be a prerequisite in terms of the origins of the word." He says in a lax, calm manner, "Woozi'll just be happy to see boobs and ass becuase that's usually how a guy's brain goes. Or how mine goes at least."

Despite Mingyu's assurances, your arms are still folded over your scantily covered breasts while you cradle your phone in the air. "I don't know," your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. "You didn't hear him today at counseling, Mingyu. I feel like our therapist might actually hate us." You continue to cradle your torso, forcing yourself not to flinch at the memory of your earlier session of couples therapy.

How far away Jihoon had felt despite being seated right beside you, like a gleaming, stoic-faced monolith. You feel as though you have been living in nothing but a perpetual winter, forever trying to please Jihoon, your boyfriend, but always falling short in front of Woozi, the entertainer. Work, work, work, on his mind meant that you were left to entertain your own wants by your lonesome. Even more harrowig, is the excuse he had given your therapist.

"She's always in boss mode," Jihoon's tone was as cold as ice, refusing to spare you even a single glance as he faced the therapist ahead, "And that's one of things I love about her, yes. Her drive and determination makes us compatible because I know I'm the same-"

A scoff slips past your lips at that point, making Jihoon's fist clench on the arm rest as you snootily interjected, "Don't misconstrue." You said, "He works more than me," and it was the truth as far as you believed it. Yes, you would gladly admit to neglecting a few key elements of your relationship in the face of your career, but never had you ever made Jihoon feel microscopic in your pursuits. Not like how he made you feel.

"It's important to listen to each other without interjecting." The therapist calmly scolded, leaving you grumbling in your seat, "You'd be surprised at how much could truly be accomplished by simply listening to each other,"

You were truly ready to tell that old lady to go to hell but something strange happened, and Jihoon finally opened his mouth, unburdening himself with what has truly been bothering him in his relationships as of late.

"It's just," He swears lightly under his breath, which does a terrific job in garnering yout attention. You peek up from underneath your lashes and you're stunned to hear him say, "I just wish she'd understand that it wouldn't burn down the foundations of feminism if she'd just," Jihoon's jaw ticked as he displayed the very first signs of emotion, "-Just let me take that load off for a bit…"

"In what way?" The therapist asked, sensing the nearness of a eureka moment. She treaded carefully, in fear of scaring Jihoon back into his shell. Thankfully, he made himself clearer because by now, you needed to know as well.

"She's the boss in her day to day and I respect that," he says, "But all I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to leave all that shit at work..."

The therapist nodded with grave understanding, although even you could see the trepidation easing onto her face. There is no hiding the conflicting emotions displayed on your face.

"You're asking her to become more…" The therapist cleared their throat, "Submissive?" Jihoon had not responded after that, letting the pregnant silence act as his megaphone.

"I'm submissive," you had whispered, nodding as if trying to convince yourself of your words. "I'm like… so submissive," before you could decorate your lie with even more lies, Jihoon finally turned towards you.

"Really?" He asked, "Where?"

You let an incredulous chuckle escape from your throat as you shot back, "Where what?"

Jihoon did a show of looking around the therapist's clinical office, delving deep into his petty theatrics as he calmly, "Where are you being submissive, because it hasn't been with me?"

The session had ended with you wracking your brain at Jihoon's admittance of what you suspect to be a kink. His words haunted you on the silent drive home. They had piqued your interest considerably, filling the atmosphere with a tense warmth, as if a tempest was brewing. One that neither of you was quite aware of how to deal with yet.

It was a feeling that led you into the deepest confines of your closet, until you pulled out the Savage x Fenty lingerie box, immediately calling Mingyu in a fit of panic while Woozi was in the shower. He was, after all, your best friend way before you even knew of Lee Jihoon.

Ripping your arms away from your torso is a mission on its own, one you succeed with immense reluctance as you finally gaze at your reflection in all her half naked glory.

You commence a hesitant twirl in front of the floor to ceiling mirror.

Very hesitant.

The lace bralette is digging into your ribs, and the matching pink garters are cutting into the skin of your ample thighs. It is all so painfully uncomfortable that you're threatening to take it off, no matter how much of a wet dream you may look like.

But there is excitement there too, bubbling beneath the surface, awakened by Jihoon's confession. You are almost excited to try this with him. Submission, sexually, was never on your cards previously but maybe this is something you should have noticed long ago. You pride yourself on being observant so why didn't you notice it before?

The soft affirmations of "Say my name," while he was steadily bringing you to orgasm with his fingers alone. The unmistakable need to have his hand locked around your throat whenever he was on the verge of cumming.

Even the non sexual stuff.

Ordering for you. Making sure your hand was always locked inside his when you found yourselves wandering the city. Forcing you to pay with his card despite knowing you made more than enough to sustain your lifestyle.

How didn't you know?

Keeping a hesitant grip on your satin nightgown, you tilt your head at your reflection skeptically.

"Imagine how embarrassed I'll be if he just ignores me," The insides of your mouth is bleeding non stop from the way you've been gnawing at it, "Maybe I should just accept that work is the only love in Jihoon's life."

Mingyu's voice is diabolically soothing as it bleeds through your speakers, "No, no," he says, and you can imagine him swatting away at the air in the process "Jihoon acts like a prude but he's one of the biggest sluts- if not - the biggest slut I know."

"Besides yourself of course," you murmur,

"Besides myself of course" Eventually, Mingyu comes up with what he suspects is his big master plan.

"Perhaps you should send me a pic of you in it, that way when the little guy gets out of the shower and sees you, then you'll be far more relaxed in the knowledge that someone else has already seen you in it."

It truly was Neanderthal mathematics.

However, there is an underlying veneer in Mingyu's tone bleeding in through the phone's speakers that makes you believe your best friend is far from joking. Despite it infuriating Woozi to no end, Mingyu might never stop flirting with you ever. In respect of your dynamic.

"Surely, I shouldn't have to tell you that I'm not sending you a pic of me in my lingerie for you but I guess I have to put that into words you would understand maybe?" You hold up your fingers and clear your throat as you monotonously say, "how dare you," 'have you no shame, Mingyu," You ask, "Need I go on?"

In the midst of Mingyu's petulant whines urging you to just 'leave your man' Jihoon's shower silences, and you right your bad posture immediately. You suddenly have no idea what to do with the drawstring of the nightgown. Somehow, this seemed like the make it or break it moment. The moment where you would decide to dive headfirst into your plans of winning back your relationship despite the possibility of being met with Jihoon's hostility and coldness that you had grown so accustomed to.

The pool of dread and anxiety is deep, and your hands are nearly shaking as your fingers gloss over the lacy pink garment. "I have to go," you whisper into the receiver, vaguely aware that you've already clicked the button to sever the line before your sentence even ends. All while you awaited the footsteps from Jihoon. But they never came.

Courageously abandoning your fear for the sake of actually getting laid, you walk up to the door of your shared bathroom and knock hesitantly.

"Jihoon? Honey, are you okay?" But he is not okay, in fact, Jihoon might venture to believe he may never be okay because your voice is just so pretty, even when muffled by a closed door. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his forearm is leaning against the shower glass, and you just called him honey and fuck, if he didn't start tugging at his dick faster. He feels pathetic, having to get himself off when you were right there but the nuances and complexities of fighting with your partner introduced the need for such things.

Jihoon's jaw is locked tight as he succinctly and suspiciously responds with a rumbling and groaning "Fine." His brows are furrowed, and his teeth locked tightly together as he fights to get off easily and succinctly.

He hopes that you would take the hostility in his voice as a sign to make yourself scarce. Jihoon already fucked up when he let the 'submissive' thing slip but he cannot bear to imagine the utter humiliation he would be subjected to if you swung that door open right now, catching masturbating in the shower, as if he did not have a girlfriend able to meet those needs… It bruises him like nothing else could. He did not want you to see him like this. He did not want you to know that even in the midst of your fights, you were the only woman he ever really thought of.

His palm skates over his soaked cock as his mind is filled images of you on your knees in front of him, head tilted back and tongue sticking out like a-

"Good little slut," It was intended as a whisper to fuel the violent pool of heat bubbling in his abdomen and make him cum quicker. A whisper that you weren't supposed to hear but your ear is on the door now and you shout back,

"Did you say anything?"

He cannot reply because his cock is aching and heavy with the weight of his fantasy. A fantasy in which you were his to hold, his to fuck, his to cum inside of until you were completely and utterly full of his load-

"Fuck-"

He rushes to squeeze the base of his dick, edging himself even though he's not quite sure why. This had been his moment to just cum all over his hands, wash off his spilt seed and be done with it, but you're knocking much more fluidly on the door, and you're becoming impatient.

"Honey, you're scaring m-," You venture to say, despite already pushing the bathroom door open. You're both left momentarily stunned by what the other is seeing in front of them. He is left paralyzed by seeing you in so little clothing… and wearing pink.

While you did not anticipate seeing Jihoon naked in the shower. Why had you not anticipated that? That’s so silly. Your mouth hangs open with the shock of his beauty perhaps.

Has it truly been that long?

In the same breath, Jihoon's lungs are wiped clean as he stares at you through the glass. His breathing is heavy, ghosting over the glass while his broad chest rises and falls. He is nothing but darkened hooded eyes. Eyes that ravage the sight of you in your lacy pink underwear, underwear that he had not seen anywhere. Where did you get that? When did you get that? Myriad thoughts swirl in Jihoon's mind, each more sinister and lustful than the last because you look so completely innocent and so soft standing by the door, arms at your side while the dressing gown hangs lazily off of your shoulders.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon decides to stop this nonsense by leaning back slightly. His long black hair still dripping down the sides of his face and his tongue skates over his bottom lip as he says,

“We should not be this surprised to see each other naked,” He says, a deep voice ringing out through the acoustics of the bathroom, “We are a couple, last I checked.”

When you do not respond, he tilts his head downward, letting an even deeper shadow cast over his eyes as he scans you from head to toe. For an innumerable amount of minutes all is quiet. It feels as though the world had been rid of noise, like you had teleported back in time, to a Charlie Chaplin motion picture. A world of absolute silence.

You begin to wonder how you might respond because surely, you cannot stand here, gawking at him for the rest of your merry life.

Before you could even think of adding to the silence with anything, anything at all, Woozi keeps his ice cold gaze on you, as he leans his head against his forearm, the one still positioned against the shower glass and he resumes his movements of languidly stroking his thick cock buried in his tight fist.

Your mouth runs dry as your eyes betray you, finally venturing down to watch him. You seem to have forgotten just how beautiful your boyfriend truly was, taking in his damp locks kissing his shoulders. He is all solid lines with a sculpted torso and you feel as if you never even knew him at all.

"Jihoon," Your voice quivers with immense passion but he silences you immediately.

"Don't ruin this. Please don't-"

"I wanna help." His mouth snaps shut but he can feel himself twitch in his palm. Jihoon's breath grows hot as you step closer and closer and he squeezes his cock, as the overall scent of you forces its way through his nose and into his brain. You're so utterly addicting, Jihoon's hand strokes almost instinctively, his hips even venturing to push his cock into his palm as he follows your every movement.

"I want you to tell me what to do," You finally say, letting the silk gown fall to the floor as you step into the shower, lingerie and all. Jihoon's mind has completely descended into lechery while his hooded eyes watch you with nothing but adoration.

"Your knees." Is all he is able to force out, "I need you on your knees," He whispers an incredibly hoarse, "Please," that has you falling to his feet automatically. The movement immediately had Jihoon's reeling.

"Fuck," He whispers, the sound of complete awe rushing straight to your core as he finally let's all his inhibitions wilt away with the rest of his manners. Jihoon is quick to bury his fingers into your hair with a roughness you're surprised to see. Surprised but far from disappointed.

"Open your mouth," He instructs, despite already prying your mouth open with his thick fingers, forcing your teeth open as if you were his plaything all while craning your head backwards.

Once he gets your mouth open, Jihoon is insatiable. He immediately bends down and crashes his lips into yours, letting his tongue invade the inside of your mouth like his life depended on it. It's a manic, passionate and domineering kiss, neck that had you moaning into his open mouth as your tongue wrestled with his.

"I'm gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?" His tone however, lets you know that he is not asking, not really, but you nod anyway, unsure of who or what has come over you. All you're really sure of is that you want to make him feel good. The goal, the satisfaction of it is building so fantastically inside of you, pushing through your arteries, steadily soaking your panties with arousal and eliciting a slightly wayward kind of dizzying emotion inside of you all at once.

"Tell me," he says, and you're forced to crane your head back as he straightens his form. "Tell me to fuck your stupid little mouth. Tell me it's what you want." His jaw is locked tight as his hand once again encloses around his sensitive dick. He refuses to give you anything, however, unless he hears you submit to him fully and completely. He feels like he needs to hear the words. Some part deep in his monkey brain needs the confirmation from the source, as if hearing you say such nasty, horrible things would increase his already heightened arousal.

"Please, Fuck my mouth, Jihoon!" In any other instance you might have been shocked at the words flowing out of your mouth, but your cunt is absolutely dripping through the fabric and your hand immediately dives down to cup your pussy through your panties as you look up at him and say, "Please fuck my slutty little mouth, Jihoon! I fucking want you to, pleasepleaseplease-"

"Such a slut- such a pretty little slut-" you'd never heard Jihoon's voice crack the way it just did and you really wish to hear that beautiful sound again. His hand is once again in your hair while his other hand is on your jaw. He pushes a finger inside until he's flattening your tongue and craning your neck even further back. You're momentarily confused, trapped in a haze of stupid lust before Jihoon hovers above you and spits directly into your mouth.

You're moaning, and keening and Jihoon is already forcing his cock all the way inside your mouth.

"Your mouth-" His voice is hoarse as he eases his cock inside the warmth of your mouth. He cannot take his eyes off of you, his beautiful, brilliant girl taking his cock so far into your mouth while you had taken to humping your own hand like an insatiable little slut.

"Fuck baby," He murmurs, letting the tip of cock meet the very back of your throat before inching out again, "is my little girl really getting turned on from sucking cock?" His humiliation is punctuated by a sharp and powerful thrust, one that has you seeing stars and your vision blurring as you fight to keep him inside your mouth. "You don't even have to do anything," He says through gritted teeth, "I'm doing all the work fucking this tiny little mouth of yours, aren't I?" You can feel how turned on he is. He's fucking huge inside your mouth as he slides himself to and fro like his life depended on it.

"God you're so beautiful like this," He whispers, "You're so fucking beautiful taking my cock like a good little whore."

Jihoon's gaze lowers down to where your hand has taken to pushing aside your panties and rubbing swift wet circles on your clit.

"You're not gonna cum like that," He says, almost immediately stilling his frantic hips, "when you cum, it's gonna be because of me, understand?" His grip on your forearm is solid as he pulls you up from off the shower floor. You're absolutely limp in his hands, breath heavy as he brings you close to him. There is a silent, almost tender exchange, with him breathing heavily in your face while you stare wide eyed up at him.

Soon, he's spinning you around with his hands digging into your sides as he presses your front against the fogged up glass. Letting your tits push against the cool, wet surfaces, he draws your hips to his.

Before he sinks his cock into you, a very strange thing happens. Soft pillowy lips brush against your shoulder blade, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

"Thank you," He whispers before sinking his cock into you with determination. He bottoms out faster than you anticipate, all while you've taken to moaning and whimpering like a mad woman. Your sounds egg him on, until he's rutting his twitching cock inside of you, desperately searching for the alleviation of a budding and aching need inside him.

"You feel so fucking good, you know that?" You hear him behind you. Feel him behind you. Your walls stretch and contract around his cock who continues to bully your insides.

"F-Fuck, Jihoona-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing me, Princess," Your orgasm sneaks up on you pile the devil himself, stripping you of your dignity as you push your hips backwards, almost instinctively forcing his cock deeper as you fucked yourself back onto him. Jihoon's mind is absolutely deranged with lust. He sinks his nails into the softness of your sides and he pulls your hips impossibly closer. He fucks you like a madman, his cock is fluid and quick, pushing against that particular cushion of nerves that has your orgasm feeling like an absolute lifetime. Your panties that had been carelessly pushed aside creates a second later of friction that has him so dangerously close to the edge.

"I'm going to cum inside you." He states while never letting himself stop fucking you, "Fuck- I'm going to cum inside you-" It's the hardest you've ever seen him cum before. His hair is messy and a darker shade under the wetness of the shower, his eyes are hooded and glossy and his body is shuddering against you, overcome by a wave of vicious shocks as he stutters and empties his balls deep inside of you. His cock is forced deeper than it's ever been and you're made completely full of his load. Jihoon is utterly spent as he lowers his weight onto your back. Letting a sea of kisses reign down on your back as your heavy breathing fills the warm and damp air.

"You look so fucking beautiful," He says, never letting his pecks against your back stop, "so fucking gorgeous." That seems like apology enough, on both parts.

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lizzibennet · 10 months

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i’ve always lived among people who had much more money than my family because my mom worked for rich people and my brother and i always got scholarships because of good grades. and so one of the things that always kind of bothered me was that my friends always had much cooler, cleaner, tidier houses than i did. we’d go to their places after school for homework or just to hang and there wouldn’t be a hair out of place. one of my friends had a mezzanine with comics and a nintendo wii especially for her to hang out with friends. the other lived in a corner house with a tennis court which i always admired when passing in front of and i literally freaked out when i realized he lived there. one of them had a barbie house taller than us, one had a pool, one had a rooftop pool and cherry trees that were blossoming when i was over, etc. and i would tell them wow your house is so cool. mine is so messy and always dirty, and if i want it clean i usually am the one who ends up cleaning it, and i do my own laundry whereas you even have maids everyday! and they’d shrug and be like it’s cool i guess. but it’s not my house, it’s my parents’.

and that would always give me pause.

i’d think about the completely out of place shell dish that lives on top of the living room rack for the sole reason that my mom puts the earrings she steals from me there so i can retrieve them if i leave before she’s woken up. i think about my dad’s “mess closet” which is precisely what it sounds like but it’s where he goes when i ask him for the shoemaker’s glue to fix my jelly shoes and for the mini electric saw he used to saw through one of my dolls’ neck (long story) and where he goes when my brother asks him for specific sized screwdrivers to open up his childhood remote controlled toys. i’d think about the laundry closet divided in two because my mom owns a lot of delicate work shirts and swears i wash them better than her (it’s the same washing machine at the same cycle). i’d think about the four little giraffes besides the tv - according to my mom, tallest to shortest representing my brother, me, my dad and my mom, which my dad has never loved because Obviously He Is Taller Than Me but encourages the cat to curl up next to them to sleep so he can take a picture and send our family whatsapp group named “grimy family”. i’d think about my brother’s car’s engine laying open in the garage because he couldn’t finish it in time before returning to uni and my dad carefully picking it all up and tidying before he returns except my dad really is kind of shit at tidying so it’s all just kinda. laying there. i’d think about my mom washing my clothes on the weekend and laying them at the foot of the stairs because i don’t like when she just shoves my stuff into my room even though clothing in the stairs obviously makes the living room look even worse. i’d think about the medicine books lining the living room table because my mom saw them at an auction and picked them up for me even though i’m not in med school yet and i’d think about the socks my dad leaves besides the cat besides the giraffes besides the tv because my mom often falls asleep watching the novela and gets cold feet and i’d think about the hideous rio de janeiro postal my brother brought me one day when he was on break that hangs in the kitchen and i’d think about the air fryer and the juicer my dad never fucking puts away and permanently now live atop the cooktop which has been broken since 2015 and i’d think about my jelly shoes under the chair where the cat likes to sleep with my smell near and my hair clip that broke the first time i went out with my girlfriend which my mom kept, you guessed it, on top of my representative giraffe because she thinks she wears it better than i do, even if it’s broken, that’s fine, doesn’t it still look so pretty? and i’d look around at the pristine white pillars and granite and impeccably kept real wood and the techy dishwashers and color changing lamps and king sized beds of my friends’ and i’d finally cave in and text grimy family and be like can any of u guys come get me. and 5 mins later my mom would say “your dad and i are on our way”. and i’d breathe a sigh of relief. and come back to the messy house in front of the square. it was either this one or the one between the family that owns the range rover and the police chief that owns the old reformed cadillac and i wanted this one and my dad immediately agreed even though he loves both cadillacs and jeeps and campaigned for the other house before. and i’d lay down in my silly little square front house in my bed with my cat and my parents next door and my brother’s empty room full of his correspondence next to my bathroom full of hair masks atop the cabinet. and i wouldn’t have it any other fucking way

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ja3gerb0mbb · 6 months

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bloodsucker chapter 12: venom

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

word count: 3k

content warnings: nothing too crazy

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

eren’s pov:

my hands slid down y/n’s body. she turned herself, front side resting on my own as she went slack. “no way i can last another round,” her pant was hard to hear from the water coming down on both of us. running my hands through her hair, i rinsed out any remaining shampoo. “i can,” i laughed, bringing my chin to rest on her shoulder.

my abilities allowed me to regenerate energy quickly, and with all of the blood i was drinking from y/n, i was in tiptop shape. i could keep my hands on her forever. this trip had felt like a fever dream. weeks ago, i wouldn’t have said it was even possible, but we were here. i didn’t plan to have so much sex with her in this cabin, but i wasn’t one to complain.

finally telling her the truth about her mom lifted a weight i didn’t know had been so rough on my shoulders. many heavy burdens still clouded my vision, but at least i could finally feel again. and i was feeling with her.

“we should probably head back today,” she sighed, bringing me out of my daydream. she grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her body. she was right, but i couldn't help the frown that made its way onto my face. “yeah, you’re right,” i followed in her footsteps, grabbing a towel of my own. this would be our fifth day here; as much as i wanted to stay, we had lives back in sina.

she was quick to make her way into the bedroom; i trailed her there too. from behind her, i grabbed her hips, nipping at the skin on her neck, leaving yet another hickey. the majority of her skin was purple now; i would have felt bad if she didn’t moan so loud when i gave them to her. “eren!” she pushed on my chest, giggling, “we really should get our shit together,” she was firm, but not harsh.

making her way around the bedroom, she picked up all the clothes from the floor, most of which were mine. “do you need more clean clothes?” the laundry machine had broken; because there always had to be one thing, so she was stuck wearing all of my clothes for the entirety of the trip. i hadn’t heard her complain; i think she likes it. i made a mental note to let her sneak home with a few of my pieces.

“yeah, that’d be good,” she folded the dirty ones, shoving them into my suitcase. i made my way over to the closet, picking out the only comfortable set left. she slid on my boxers, and i slapped her ass on the way out of the room, covering my smile. she looked so good wearing my clothes.

things between us had changed so drastically on this trip, i worried they might slip back when we returned. i tried not to think about it; grabbing out the last pack of bacon from the fridge.

y/n made her way into the kitchen not long after, “aw making me food again, so domestic,” i had to pause my motion of throwing the bacon on the skillet to shoot her a glare; shaking my head at the same time. “ha ha,” i sarcastically laughed. i would miss this too; her dependance on me to make her meals. it was just the two of us in our bubble; it almost felt like we were married.

“on the way back, can i use your laptop?” another harsh reminder of the reality we had ahead of us, “i know my classes are gonna drown me,” her hands reached up to her forehead, applying pressure in preparation for the headache that would appear later. “yeah, ‘course,”

she slipped her way over to my spot by the stove, tucking herself underneath my arm and wrapping her hands around my waist as she watched the meat caramelize. i hated the smell of human food, but for her, i’d make bacon for every meal she ever ate.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the car ride back to my apartment was long. y/n spent many hours on my laptop; slamming schoolwork until the battery finally died. even with her intent focus, our bodies were constantly connected. my hand on her thigh; her hand meeting mine on the gear shift. we didn’t disconnect.

i wasn’t sure what any of this made us. wasn’t sure if she wanted anything more than sex. i knew eventually, i’d have to suck it up and ask. “i already regret leaving,” she pulled me from my thoughts, walking behind me; pinky intertwined with my own.

“we can go back anytime, you know,” the offer sounded lame to both of us. looking back at her, she stared at the ground with a small frown on her face. i guess both of us are unsure how things are gonna play out in reality. the air in the hallway was stiff as we approached the door. after fiddling with the lock, i walked in ahead; making sure my apartment had stayed empty on our vacation.

“what the fuck, eren!” she quietly screamed at me, pushing past me and into the living room. where the bear from the fair sat on the couch. fuck, forgot to move that… i kept my face nonchalant, not trying to tip her off. “and how do you have this?”

i got it back after the break-in; i couldn’t have been sure she even knew it was missing. it was easy to find; bertholdt kept it in a box with other random items of hers. the bear was the only thing that felt right to take; the only thing that was also connected to me. the memory of that coward beaten into the floor flashed before my eyes; but y/n couldn’t know that. “told you bertholdt was following you around,” i couldn’t help the bitter bite to my tone.

she frowned, patting the bear on the head. “what did you do to him..” her tone was accusatory, but she didn’t seem very angry. just curious. i turned my head, laying out the bags i was still carrying by the door. a muffled grunt caused me to turn my head.

zeke stood in my apartment, holding y/n close to his side, hand over her mouth. her features twisted in agony as her body went stiff over his hands. “we really should talk,” a small amount of blood covered his lips.

i didn’t think about my movements. in an instant, i was pushing zeke’s body away from hers, grabbing y/n in my arms. i gripped her cheeks, scanning her face that was still contorted in pain. my eyes caught the red of blood on her neck then. moving my left hand, i made out the bite. the bite. “fuck, no no,” i blabbered but my words were drowned out by squeals of anguish from y/n.

i covered my hand over the side of the bite; all sounds and feelings suddenly felt numb to my body. the world went dark as i realized there was nothing i could do. nothing that could stop the venom from turning her. the whites of her eyes started to turn black at the edges before they rolled back into her head. time hung in the air for a moment; i felt completely useless. i was completely useless.

“y/n!” i tried to yell, but it came out as a whisper. i clutched her tighter to my body; her hands gripped around my torso tightly before going slack. her whole body fell weak against my lap as her eyes closed. it meant that it was working. y/n was going to turn. it was all my fault, how could i let this happen?

the cabin should’ve never happened, fuck, the whole semester shouldn’t have happened. i knew the inevitable was in front of me, but it felt like a dream. like i was just trapped in a nightmare. i’m dreaming. i’m dream- “eren!” my head snapped back to zeke; almost forgetting he was in my apartment. “pull yourself together,” he was almost irritated.

“zeke, what the fuck did you do?” i meant to yell, but my voice sounded pathetic. it cracked, and i realized my face was hot with tears. nothing felt real. “a favor,” he put it simply, keeping his distance from me. i wanted to stand up, and knock his composure with a fist to the face, but i wouldn’t let go of her.

with the numbness subsiding, i was finally able to voice my animosity, “a FAVOR?! are you on something?” i turned my attention back to y/n’s limp body. removing my hand from the bite, i moved it further to her jawline. her pulse was shallow, but it was there. she was still alive. “this can’t be happening,” i watched as a tear dropped on her cheek; i barely registered it was mine.

zeke sighed next to me, “don’t act so disappointed,” his voice was icy cold. “disappointed? disappointed doesn’t cover it! what the fuck were you thinking?” zeke had already ruined so much in my life; i couldn’t be surprised he’d cause more pain. my brain lagged behind the conversation, still trying to grasp what was happening in front of me.

“i was thinking that you’re in love with her,” the phrase sent a shock through my system. i had never thought about what i felt for y/n. the connection had always been there, i assumed my growing infatuation of her was due to it. was i? no. no, it’s not love, the attempt to reason with myself wasn’t strong. “zeke, you’re so far off,” i muttered, not sure if he was.

“i’m not,” he was so definite, but my lack of trust in zeke made it impossible to really process his words. “you don’t know anything, i’m not in love with her,” the words sounded weak leaving my mouth. i wasn’t sure what to make of the two of us, but love couldn’t be the case.

his tongue ticked on the roof of his mouth, “and now you’re lying. you should be happy dad doesn’t know about the cabin,” he once again caught me off guard. i knew he was always monitoring me closely, but i’d hoped y/n had been masked with our other friends. it’s the reason i had to take her so far away just to be alone with her; it’s my fault for underestimating how far zeke would go. “i did this for you, eren,” he snapped me out of my puzzling thoughts.

“how is this for me?!” my voice picked up again; having the weight of anger behind it. “are you going to sit here and tell me you didn’t think about it?” zeke’s voice slipped, sounding almost exhausted. it was the first time in years he sounded sincere. it brought out something in me; clicking something in my brain i couldn’t register, “of course i did, but i never would have done it.” my head shook, looking back at y/n. her skin startled to pale, all red draining from her face. “i never wanted this for her,” i whispered, more to myself.

“exactly. i worked out that kink for you,” his tone was back to being eerily cool. the time passed slowly, and i began coming to terms with her impending change. this was real; it really would happen. “everything’s gonna change for her, you just made her life so much more complicated,” i blabbered yet again to myself.

“like it did for you,” it was unexpected to hear from zeke. he was so devoted to our fathers ways, i had never heard him speak of vampirism in a negative tone. there were never any downsides to it; in his eyes. “you deserve some happiness; watching her age as you followed years behind her would’ve killed you even more.” zeke sounded different; his energy had been titled. i couldn’t be sure what to make of him. it doesn’t really matter, he had brought me so much suffering, nothing would change that fact.

“it doesn’t matter, i didn’t want this for her.” zeke had approached me, assuming it was safe since my hands were preoccupied, “she could want it, though.” i hadn’t thought about it. but it would be a ‘want’ she knew nothing about. i wouldn’t have turned her even if she begged me. she was the last person who deserved a fate like this. “well, it’s not like you fucking asked her opinion!”

he sat on the arm of the couch, looking down on me from a lower distance, “she’ll wake up soon enough. you can ask her then. not everyone hates being a vampire as much as you do, eren.” i already knew that, but it was a hard pill to swallow regardless. the idea was so fucked i pushed it out quickly. “you really have no reason to be so mad at me,” zeke continued in my silence, “after everything i’ve done for you.”

it was hard not to glare in disbelief. done for me? marco’s bloody and mangled body shot before my eyes. that wasn’t for me, my hands shook in anger, bouncing y/n’s lifeless body slightly. “done for me? becoming dad’s ‘apprentice’ was for me?”

“actually it was. god you are so naive,” a scoff echoed through my apartment, i looked up to see his eyes roll into his head, “my allegiance to grisha is the only reason he even lets you live a normal life.”

“it’s hardly normal,” a scoff came from my own body. zeke was even more delusional than i thought if he really did feel that way. “it would be even less,” his cold tone broke again; revealing the sympathetic undertone. “you’re right eren, i shouldn’t have bit her. i wouldn’t have done it if i felt like there was a better outcome.”

my presence put her in danger, but i was cautious. i could’ve prevented her from being sucked into this life entirely, but zeke ruined that, “now you’re really talking nonsense.” if my mind wasn’t running rampant with anxiety over y/n, i might’ve been susceptible to what zeke was talking about.

“i’m really not. grisha’s lost a few more screws with you gone. i think you might’ve been the only thing keeping him tied to reality. if he ever found out about your feelings for that ‘blood bag’” he mimicked with air quotes, “she’d be as dead as marco.” he almost started making sense. grisha was more unhinged than usual on my last visit.. what happens when i’m not there?

zeke’s meaning was quickly lost on me, “don’t use his fucking name like that.” another reminder of marco brought me back to the reality of things. zeke was a vampire, willing to kill for grisha. it didn’t matter that his composure was different; somewhat comforting. he would always be a murderer in my eyes. “you’ve never apologized for that, you know,” once again, my mind ran through the memory of his body.

“i’m sorry eren, truly,” his words were sincere, but his tone lacked any real remorse, “but i don’t care much for your friends. only you, and everything i have done has been for your own sake.” my mind blocked out the rest of the ‘apology.’ “i don’t believe you.”

his shoulders moved up and down in a shrug, “you don’t have to. but i know why i’ve made the decisions i have.” he moved from his position on the couch; i clutched y/n tighter to my body on instinct. “you’re expected at home in the coming days,” his body was closer to the door in an instant. i had to pivot our position; preventing my back from being turned to him.

“you’re fucking kidding,” i scoffed. he ignored my whining, “you’ll have to bring the new vampire,” his lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. my features furrowed in a deep scowl. he needed to leave; and i needed to take care of her as much as i could. “tell grisha you changed her yourself, say you gifted her for her generous supplies of blood.”

i ignored his humorous excuse, “no. i’m not bringing her there.” the only thing worse than her becoming a vampire is being in a closed space full of them; human or not it wasn’t a risk i was willing to take.

“neither of you really have the option. if grisha were to find out from someone other than you, he’d kill her. regardless of her vampirism.” he made an unfortunate point. grisha would always find out; even if zeke neglected to share the information with him. “so she’s dead either way.”

“not if you just do as i say!” his composure slipped again, this time showing the anger burning in his eyes. “fuck eren, stop being so stubborn,” he growled at me, “she was dead as soon as you got yourself tangled with her, don’t blame this on me.” once again, i knew he was right. even with the knowledge, i couldn't stop my face from twitching.

i could blame zeke all i wanted for biting her, but it wouldn’t have happened if i stayed away. “just.. go,” i ran my fingers over her skin. there was hardly any warmth to be felt. “i’ll be there,” my decision wasn’t made, but i needed zeke to leave. now. the slam of the door echoed through the room; the only sign he left.

finally, my brain could think in the silence. y/n was turning right under my hands. her eyelids started to flutter, showing the light pink under her eyes that would eventually fester into a dark purple. the cabin felt like eons ago; now we really would never be able to go back to that. it’s all my fault. all i could do now was accept the decisions i made that got both of us here, and hold her closer. at least she wouldn’t be alone. not like i was.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: eren stop blaming yourself for everything challenge go!

spotify playlist

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman

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dragons-bones · 3 years

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FFXIV Write Entry #29: Stitches

Prompt: debonair || Master Post || On AO3

Worldbuilding disguised as shippy nonsense ahoy! This idea let me formalize my thinking that since Eorzea is not industrialized (yet), there would be no off-the-rack/pre-made clothing, and so if you weren’t sewing your clothes yourself, you’d be going to a tailor or a seamstress. (Despite my own lack of sewing, I subscribe to possibly way too many historical costuming channels over on the Tube of You so this has been stewing in my head for. A while.)

“How did you even get my measurements, lovely one?” Aymeric said, fondly exasperated as he was dragged into one of the many shops on Calico Row, just off the northwestern drag of Hawker’s Alley.

“Hersande, of course,” Synnove said, drawing a rueful laugh from her lover at the mention of the Borel Manor housekeeper.

If her knight intended to spend swathes of time in La Noscea, she had reasoned to him as they had headed into the city that morning, then he would need to dress the part: not just in terms of the type of cloth, but the style, too. Coerthan clothing, even underthings, was cut for warmth, hugging the skin of the wearer for easier layering; on Vylbrand, looser garments in only one or two layers were the preference, particularly during the summer moons, and so her Aymeric would need a proper Vylbrandian wardrobe in the part of her closet she had cleaned out for his use. (A pirate’s wardrobe, a part of her mind purred in satisfaction.)

It was just a shame she had no time to sew at least his shirts for him, not with the Guild ramping up into exam season. But that was why Calico Row had begun at all: too many people who lived and worked in and around Limsa Lominsa had the exact same problem of her to not have the time or means to sew up their own clothing, or weave their own cloth or spin their own fiber. The Weavers’ Guild might have been headquartered in Ul’dah, but their members did a brisk trade here and in Gridania as they did in the Jewel of the Desert, making everything from simple shirts to fine dresses worthy of any Ishgardian ball.

Bhaldsath’s shop wasn’t the one Synnove went to her for her own clothing; she was a client of Theldry a few doors down the Row, but Theldry had recommended Bhaldsath for more masculine cuts and fashions. Synnove had been impressed by the quality of the work put into the example pieces Bhaldsath had on display in his shop window, admiring the tidy stitches that even her Auntie would be envious of. So, two sennights ago she had gone in with Aymeric’s measurements and placed an order for a number of basics to be ready by the time he would be back to stay with her for a bit.

“Miss Greywolfe, welcome back!” Bhaldsath was a former pirate turned Yellowjacket turned tailor, his booming voice made to carry across a dreadnought’s deck, his scarred and grizzled appearance a contrast to the high-quality cotton of his shirt and trousers and the pair of fine-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He came out from behind the counter, a broad smile on his face. “And this must be the lanky lad ye ordered so much cloth fer!”

“It is indeed!” Synnove said cheerfully. “Bhaldsath, my beau Aymeric. Aymeric, Bhaldsath Baenwybsyn.”

Her knight and the tailor shook hands, grip firm. “A pleasure, ser,” Aymeric said, his most charming politician’s smile on his face.

“The pleasure is mine,” Bhaldsath said. “If I was forty years younger, yer lady’d be challenging me fer a duel over yer ‘onor.”

Synnove cackled, genuinely delighted, and Aymeric’s smile softened into something genuine, his eyes crinkling as he laughed himself, the sound gaining depth as Bhaldsath’s daughter and apprentice, Nachtgeim, yowled a disgusted, “Da!” from the back. “Everyone keeps talking about Limsa Lominsa as a hive of scum and villainy,” her knight said, “and yet every Lominsan I’ve met has a tongue to put any Ishgardian lordling to shame!”

“Oh, ye picked a good one,” Bhaldsath said to her, winking broadly, and Synnove’s cackling only grew louder. “And, ach, the ‘ells is that shirt made of? Some wool blend? ‘Ow ye ‘aven’t melted yet is a Navigator-blessed miracle, bloody Ishgardians…”

“Am I such an easy target?” Aymeric said, curious.

“’Tis the accent,” was all Bhaldsath said.

Synnove coughed to cover a snicker, making a note to swear Aymeric to secrecy later when he raised an eyebrow at her. Bhaldsath had once sailed with the Kraken’s Arms, and still sewed shirts for half the crew of the flagship.

“A perfect excuse for ye to at least try one of yer new shirts,” the tailor said, striding back to the counter to meet his daughter bringing out large packages wrapped in wax paper.

“Ah, I see how it is,” Aymeric said, faux mournfully, and sending Synnove into fresh peals of laughter. He wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, and she took advantage to press her forehead against his chest as she went off. “Desired only for my body and not my mind.”

“’Tis a fine one, and me Nortyr’ll box me ears for not waiting ‘til they returned with the new stock of silks so they could get an eyeful, too,” Bhaldsath said, reaching out to pat Nachtgeim on the shoulder when she bent over to beat her head against the counter. Then he opened one of the packages, thumbing through the shirts carefully folded within before selecting one in a bright cherry red linen. “This one. Yer lady was informing me of yer color preferences, but variety is the spice of life an’ all that drivel.”

Despite Bhaldsath’s teasing, there was in fact a screen in the corner of the main floor of the shop for Aymeric to change behind. He emerged within a few moments, clothed in the new shirt, and Synnove sucked in a breath, heart suddenly pounding beneath her ribs, as Bhaldsath whistled.

She recognized the garment’s construction: a workman’s shirt, made of simple rectangles, the sleeves gathered at shoulders and the long cuffs to create a draping poof, though rather than button the cuffs, Aymeric had instead rolled the sleeves up to his elbow, showing off his forearms. The collar wasn’t as deep a vee as was popular among the pirates and dockworkers, but it sported similar lacing in black. And the color, oh. Her Aymeric looked his best in blues, there was no question, but Bhaldsath had somehow found the perfect shade of red that complimented his skin rather than highlighted every spot that flushed, and made his blue eyes even more intense.

Aymeric smirked at her, roguish, and reached up to deliberately loosen the laces on the shirt. The collar gaped, revealing an expanse of lightly scarred chest, and the hint of a bite she had left on his clavicle the previous night.

Synnove swallowed heavily and felt a blush bloom across her cheeks and down her neck and even onto her ears.

Mine, mine, mine.

“Ye picked a really good one,” Bhaldsath muttered next to her. Nachtgeim squeaked.

“I am aware of the affect I have on women,” her knight purred, still meeting her gaze. And added, ruefully, “And men.”

She really wanted to leave a few more marks now, and it took all of her willpower not to lick her lips. Aymeric caught the twitch anyway, his smirk deepening.

The tailor jabbed her in the side with his elbow, jolting her out of her reverie, and said to them both, “If ye go to any other shop on this street for yer clothes, I will be personally insulted. Ye are the kind of muse tailors dream about, ye make me want to blood embroider.” He said rapturously, “Lass, think about it: waistcoats.”

“Oh, yesssss,” Synnove hissed, smiling wide at the mental image. The single worst part about Ishgardian formal wear: all those Twelve-damned layers. Her knight had strong shoulders and a trim waist and they should be shown off, gods all help her and her libido.

“Do I get a say in this?” Aymeric said drily.

“No,” arcanist and tailor both said.

Aymeric sighed, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement, and Synnove’s brain shorted for another moment as she watched his forearms flex.

#ffxivwrite2021 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #oc: synnove greywolfe #dt's writing

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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Just Close Your Eyes, You'll Be Alright

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and “rescue” him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone / @peetamewllark]

Teen and up

AU- Modern setting (but like without cell phones). One Shot.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Language, child abuse and neglect, injuries, implied (non-descriptive) underage smut. Nobody dies! Unbetaed.

-lyrics of Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, Feat. The Civil Wars - Songs from District 12 and Beyond (2012)

Author’s note: Thank you to @lovely-tothe-bone for her inspiring prompt and to the organizers of EFE, for bringing the challenge back so faithfully, you ladies rock!

KPKPKPKP

“Look at her!” Papa screeched at the policeman, lifting the back of my favorite pink polka dotted shirt. “You have to do something about this, Sheriff Cray!” Papa demanded, angrily.

The man just watched, like he didn’t care. Then sat back down lazily, “There’s nothing much I can do, to be honest. Unless you can produce the child sporting the actual bruises, my hands are tied.” Said the policeman.

I had no idea what the problem was, I felt fine, but ever since my 5th birthday, every time Mama helped me out of my day clothes for my bath, she wept and held me close to her chest, whispering “No child deserves to be treated so poorly,”

Papa too always made a face and looked sad and angry when Mama showed him my back after my baths.

It was funny how bath time could easily be my favorite time of day, but it made the grown ups upset somehow. I just liked that mama would rub ointments on my back, bottom and thighs, carefully and without fuzzing about the time she was spending away from my baby sister, Primrose. Is not that I didn’t like Prim— I thought she was as lovely as a doll— I didn’t mind sharing mama’s snuggles with her either, but it was nice to just feel mama’s warm hands caressing me to sleep every now and then.

Either way, I wished someone would tell me what was so wrong with my behind that had the grown ups acting so weird.

They were starting to scare me, really.

“There has to be something we can do! There are genetic tests to determine matchless people, couldn’t we use the same technology to find the markers matching my daughter’s counterpart to identify him?”

“Mr. Everdeen, I’m not a geneticist. I wouldn’t know about anything like it… and who’s to say we could use it to find your girl’s soulmate? Then we what? It’ll open an unknown Pandora’s box situation, people would start tracking soulmates illegally or something less than honorable. It’ll certainly set a precedent we cannot foresee the ramifications of!”

“You’re telling me that there’s some kid out there, somewhere, getting beaten week in and week out, and you’ll do nothing about it?! You’ll allow the abuse to continue uninterrupted?”

The man nodded slowly, “You said it yourself, Mr. Everdeen. The kid’s ‘out there, somewhere’, we don’t even know if he’s local, or his age. In any case, I only have jurisdiction over District 12, and I can’t very well launch a country wide investigation on an alleged case of abuse, specially if we have no victim,”

“But my daughter’s soulmate is suffering! Who knows what permanent damage this poor child may have as an adult! It’s my daughter’s future we’re talking about!”

“Most unfortunate, sir. I don’t wanna seem unsympathetic, Mr. Everdeen, but unless your little girl can figure out a way to communicate with her soulmate, find… an address— at the very least a name— there isn’t anything we can do to help.”

Papa huffed, his nose flared, “Fine. Thank you for your consideration…Sheriff.” Papa put his big ol’ hand on my shoulder and guided me away, “Come on Katniss, it’s time to go home.”

I looked up at Papa and reached for his hand. I smiled at him, “It’s okay, Papa. Mama says to give grumpy people time, and they may be nicer the next time we talk to them.”

Papa smiled at me, but it didn’t crinkled the corner of his eyes, like real smiles did, “That’s nice sweetie… although, that usually only applies to people just waking up from naps, like you and me,”

I giggled when he picked me up and tickled my tummy.

Papa kept talking to grown ups about my back, but nothing was ever done about it.

———————-

I was 11 when our world pitched upside down.

Papa was one the foramen on shift at the town’s coal mine when the earth shifted and an entire tunnel collapsed.

Prim and I were in school when the sirens went off. There’s nothing worse than to hear the end of your world being advertised so loudly and without mercy.

I grabbed my sister’s hand and rushed to the mines; we found our mother there, clinging to the yellow tape cordoning off the site.

I should’ve known something wasn’t right when I was the one seeking Mama out, trying to comfort her, instead of the other way around. It was the first time the concept of a soulmate stopped being an abstract notion, and became a reality, because my mother stopped functioning altogether the moment she realized Papa had been hurt.

I saw how much a soulmate could affect you. It wasn’t only the marks on the skin— those came without conscious pain— it was the fear of knowing that someone you loved was hurting, sometimes badly, and not being able to do anything about it.

Mama’s left leg started glowing pink from the shin down at first, and the color began to shift to a darker red the longer Papa laid underground.

Unbeknownst to us, my father had been pinned under fallen rock and dirt after pushing a man to safety, risking his own life. The sharp end of a pickax perforated Papa’s leg in the cave-in. The pickaxe worked as a plug, keeping him from bleeding out while he waited for the rescue crew to reach him.

Papa laid on the floor of the very last lift to surface with rescued miners. He was unconscious. Had suffered extensive blood loss. The lone medic in the rescue crew couldn’t fix him up right away, but Mama was a nurse, and like a switch flipping on, she ripped off the bottom of her skirt, and tied a tourniquet around my father’s thigh, saving his life at the cost of his limb.

My father lived, but his leg had to be amputated.

He couldn’t work in the mines anymore, and what little money we got as compensation from his injuries, were put into paying off the mortgage, because Papa decided that having a roof over his family’s heads was far more important than having a leg.

The rub was, a roof didn’t fill our stomachs or put a coat around Prim’s shivering shoulders. Mama put a hold on her nursing career, obsessing over Papa’s care, despite his protests. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and that someone turned to be me.

I started selling everything I could carry out of the house in my arms: tools, kitchen appliances, small furniture, etc. But we never had many possessions to begin with, so my wares ran out soon, and I turned to our closets for their meager treasures.

I sold my parents best clothes, along with my sister’s winter boots that didn’t fit her anymore. I looked at my own shoes with longing, but put them into Primrose’s shoe rack, deciding I could manage with Mama’s boots, if I stuffed them with newspaper. Mama never left the house anyway. Neither did Papa for that matter, but he wasn’t dead, just convalescencing, so I left him a pair of footwear just in case, and sold his work boots and his Sunday loafers.

The day I was down to the last pair of clothing, we had been slurping on mint tea for the third day in a row from a few old leaves I found in the very back of the pantry. It was the last of our food, besides Papa’s bland diet, but I refused to let on on how precariously stocked we were, until absolutely necessary.

But, nobody wanted the hand-me-down baby clothes I had for sale, nor the slightly beaten stroller I was pushing around with my ‘merchandise’.

Icy cold rain, soaked me to the bone. I was so tired and downtrodden, I ran to the first awning I found, unwilling to go back home to Prim’s sunken blue eyes and chapped lips, asking for something to eat, while my hands were empty.

I tripped and fell face first on the umbrella stroller, breaking it irreparably and soiling the few onesies I’d been trying to sell.

With my wares ruined, and winded by a sharp pain shooting through my elbow, I limped towards a scraggly apple tree a few feet away. I recognized the place as the alley behind the town’s bakery, just by the smell alone.

I cupped my elbow, wondering if I’d broken it or merely banged it up? That’s when I saw the dumpster.

Big ugly thing, dirty and smelly. I climbed a wooden crate to dig for anything edible inside, but before I could lift the lid, a screeching voice shouted at me.

“Get out of there, Seam brat!”

I jumped off the crate, startled, and cowed behind the dumpster when I saw the baker’s grumpy wife sneering at me from the warmth of her kitchen’s back door.

A boy about my age— I recognized him as one of my classmates from school— peeked his towheaded face around the woman, and although they were a good five yards away, I could see his blue eyes widened as he took me in. The boy slipped back inside, as his mother spewed threats of calling the police on me and whatnot.

I started debating whether I wanted to trace back and drag my broken stroller over; pretend I was merely trying to dump it in the garbage, while inspecting the trash for food… but the baker’s wife was nicknamed the Witch by all the neighborhood children for a reason.

Before my mind was made, a loud, metallic bang resonated into the street from inside the bakery. Yelling ensued, then the sound of a meaty hand against a small face.

A few seconds later, the witch was chasing the boy out the back door, “Toss it in the trash, you stupid creature! Nobody will pay money for burnt bread anyway!”

The boy scurried by with his head down.

My eyes stuck on the bread in his hands, was probably the reason I missed the shiner under his eye. He stopped right in front of the dumpster, but instead of throwing the ruined loaves in, he tossed them in my direction.

I didn’t wait around to ask if he meant for me to grab them. I just scooped them up and fled like a bat out of heck.

When I got home, Mama gasped in horror. She grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed me to her chest. “Oh no! It’s getting worse. They don’t even care to hide the bruises anymore!”

Mama lathered my face with all the medicinal herbs she had at hand, while apologizing profusely for abandoning me and Prim to our own devices. She vowed to find a job, and to take better care of us.

“No child should ever suffer like this!” I couldn’t tell if she meant Prim and I, or whoever my soulmate was.

Mama interrogated me about my whereabouts and how I came upon the bread in my arms, but she seemed to rest easier after a while.

When I was finally able to look at my face in the mirror, I was horror struck by the deep orange bruise swelling under my eye. It took three days for the bruise to go away completely even with mama’s careful fingers.

Coincidentally, the baker’s son didn’t show up to school for the next four days. By the time he did, I had lost any confidence in myself to go up to him and thank him for the bread that fed us for a few days; the loaves were perfect! Only the crust had been charred, but I had a hunch the boy knew that when he threw the bread to me; I was also convinced he burned the bread on purpose, I was just too chicken to ask him why? Which made it even harder to hold his gaze when we crossed each other in the school hallways.

All I knew was that because of the selfless actions of the boy in my year at school, my mother seemed to wake from her single minded obsession. The boy with the bread gave our family a sense of hope, despite the fact that it would take some time for Mama to find work and produce enough money for the family. Papa’s medical needs had to be met as well, and he was due a new leg.

While those thoughts churned in my head, my eyes focused on a bright yellow bloom across the school yard. The first dandelion of the season! I picked the cheerful blossom, and the idea on how to feed my family until Mama was back on her feet, came to me.

After school, I took Prim’s hand and a clean bucket in the other; together we scoured the yard and the woods nearby for all the dandelions we could fit in the bucket. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad, and the next day, I pulled from under my parent’s bed, the only thing of value we had left in the house, Papa’s hunting bow.

“Are you sure you can handle it, pumpkin?” My father asked, watching me carefully.

“You taught me how to do it,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

“I taught you with a smaller bow,” he pointed out, “why don’t use yours?”

I shouldered the heavy bow, and took a few loose arrows in my hand, “I sold it. These are all we have left now,”

After a handful of days practicing, I actually shot something worth eating. Seeing my mother’s blue eyes pop in surprise when I dropped the dead rabbit on the table, was priceless.

——————-

One early morning, right before summer break, I happened across another hunter… a trapper, to be precise.

A lanky, scowling boy, with three fat bunnies tied to his belt, and a fourth hanging in the air by a simple— yet elegant— wire snare.

I’d seen his traps before, his prey with their dead eyes and lolling tongues, just high enough off the ground to keep other animals from taking off with them. Papa told me that hunter etiquette was to be observed; if I happened across a trap that wasn’t mine, I was not to touch it, out of respect for my fellow hunters. That still didn’t discourage me from looking! After all, the snares looked like works of art, and I had no idea how to set any on my own.

“Stealing is a punishable offense, you know,” Snapped the boy, and suddenly I realized just how tall he was.

From up close, I could see the beginning of some stubble under his chin.

“I wasn’t gonna take it…” I stepped away from the twitching bunny, with my hands raised in surrender. “Admiring your work, that’s all. By the way, I’m Katniss Everdeen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to be friendly.

“Name’s Gale. Hawthorne. So… you know how to use the thing hanging from your back, Catnip, or is that just for show?” He practically bumped me onto my butt, stepping passed me while pulling a knife from his belt to cut his kill down. He turned to watch me, smirking. “That thing looks bigger than you, are you sure you can lift it up?”

I scowled at him, wondering if he was expecting to see me squirm or something. I was smaller than the average 12 year old, but I was fast and scrappy.

“My name is KatNISS. I can shoot my own food thank you very much,” I held my bow aloft and moved so he could see my quiver full of arrows, “my weapons aren’t props or fakes,” I said, haughtily.

“Yeah, well, it still looks bigger than you,”

I rolled my eyes, fed up. Any other time I’d meekly shy away, and let him be; but I was feeling stubborn and confrontational, so I pulled my bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly, all in a fluid motion.

Gale gaped with a hint of fear in his gray eyes.

I felt smug and satisfied.

I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular, I just wanted the obnoxious boy to shut it, but by a stroke of luck my arrow pierced a falling leaf, and imbedded itself deep into the knot of a gnarly looking tree trunk.

“Wow! That was amazing, Catnip!” Gale said in awe.

“It’s Katniss… I’m okay, my father was better,” I said, puffing my chest a little, “I haven’t managed stealth yet, not like Papa before the accident, anyway. He doesn’t hunt anymore.”

Gale frowned. “Was your dad in the cave-in?” He asked grimly.

I nodded.

“So was mine. He almost didn’t make it.”

“Same.”

He just stood there, staring at the ground for a moment, then I tried to play cool, “Hey, I’d be willing to spare some shooting lessons, in exchange for some snaring techniques,”

Gale watched me, intently. He finally nodded and stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Deal!”

I smiled. Papa always said that good hunting partners were hard to find, and while I didn’t want a new hunting partner— I already had my father!— I could always exchange knowledge with a fellow hunter and improve my game.

——————-

Papa was fitted with a basic prosthetic leg. He couldn’t run or swim with it, but having the ability to walk without crutches gave him a “new lease in life”, as he called it.

He found work doing odd jobs for Haymitch Abernathy, a hermit drunk, with more money than he knew what to do with, and no family to spend it on. The man needed someone to talk to every now and then, and seeing as he and my father were close in age, they developed a strange rapport between them.

Still, Papa wasn’t completely confident with his fake leg, no matter how many physical therapies he attended; he still walked with a pronounced limp. Yet, he always had a word of comfort for Mama.

My mother often blamed herself for Papa’s disability.

He’d tell her that she did the right thing, that it was thanks to her torniquete he was still alive, and she should never doubt her own healing skills. But every now and then, my mother would catch a glance of her permanently grey skinned leg, and silent tears would slide down her exhausted, pretty face.

By then, I was old enough to know that the soft orange marks hidden under my clothes, meant a kid somewhere in Panem, probably my age, was getting beaten on a regular basis. It was sad to think about, but I’d grown so used to the marks, they felt like a distant happening without a meaningful connection to me. The bruises were there… just shy of a shirt sleeve, or around mid thigh, where they could be concealed by shorts; the way I saw them, they were like oversized freckles that came and went. A nuisance. That’s why watching my mother weep over her shadowy leg, was always unnerving and a little odd.

Was I supposed to despair the same way she did over my own soulmate marks? Was I broken or heartless if I didn’t feel as strongly?

Until I saw my mother’s grief over her soulmate’s leg, it didn’t register to me just how much the orange bruises were supposed to affect me.

I started to think if I wasn’t any better than the person dispensing the punches.

One day, I was leaning on my parents bedroom door, watching Mama applying soothing oils to her gray leg with the utmost love and care.

“Why do you rub so much medicine on your leg? It doesn’t seem to be bringing back your normal color,” I asked, staring where her fingers massaged into her flesh.

Mama stopped and called me over, to stand on her side of the bed.

“Papa is fast asleep, do you see?” She pointed out, kindly.

I looked past her shoulder, where my father was sprawled on the mattress on his stomach, dead to the world.

I nodded.

Mama smiled, “Do you remember all we’ve told you about soulmates? I’m sure they’ve taught you at school other stuff as well,”

Again, I nodded, just a little puzzled. “Soulmates have a very strong bond. They can’t feel when the other hurts, but they can see the marks, tinted in their favorite colors. That’s how we identify our soulmates, because we match and they can see themselves reflected back.”

“Exactly.” Said my mother, beaming. “Now, your papa and I are soulmates, and we love each other very much. When Papa’s leg was separated from his body, my body reflected that loss, despite still retaining my own leg. We match. The one thing most people don’t seem to realize, is that the connection goes both ways. I may not feel the physical pain Papa does, but I can still do things to my leg to help him feel better.

“For example, when he feels phantom itches, I scratch and his itching sensation goes away. When he can’t fall asleep because he’s uncomfortable without his leg, I massage lavender oil on mine, until he relaxes and goes to sleep. Everything I do to heal my body, and take care of it, helps my soulmate feel better.”

“Is that why you put lotions on my marks? To help my soulmate feel better?”

Mama’s lips thinned out; she didn’t like talking about the orange marks on my body.

“Katniss,” she said very seriously, “I tend to your bruises because I love you. I worry about your soulmate, because I love you. I try to keep you as healthy and happy as possible, because that will help your soulmate heal faster… because I love you. I can cure your soulmate’s body through yours, but I cannot protect his heart, mind, or feelings. Right now, you both are too young to feel the pull of your bond, but one day, when your bodies have matured, you’ll have this… yearning, to find one another, and then, I just hope, whoever your soulmate is, knows we tried to help.”

I cocked my head, “Should I be sad every time new marks show up?”

Mama inhaled a deep breath, “We should feel sad every time a child is mistreated, darling, no matter how we’re related,”

From that day on, I paid close attention to every child in my class for bruises matching mine. I also kept pomades and tinctures in my school bag, in case I ever saw another kid getting hurt. I wouldn’t say I started to develop deeper feelings for my soulmate after that, but I did feel deeper empathy for my classmates… I just couldn’t stomach big injuries, gore or vomit, but smaller cuts and bruises… those I could manage.

————————

“Silver Anderson figured out her cousin was dating her soulmate!” A girl in my year was telling a cluster of other 15 year-old girls in the locker room. “Do you remember how Silver has been wearing a turtleneck for the last two days with this darned awful heat?”

The other girls hummed their yeses.

“Well, is because Silver’s soulmate had a hickey on the throat, given by Silver’s cousin, who was his girlfriend or whatever. But apparently the cousin went over to visit Silver with her boyfriend, and one look at the guy’s neck, and Silver recognized the mark!”

There were gasps all around.

It wasn’t rare to hear of soulmates having relationships with other people before finding each other, but it was almost unheard of a relative dating somebody’s soulmate so close.

I finished tying up my shoelaces, and started rebranding my hair, making a mental note to double shampoo, to get all the sweat out.

“What an idiot! Who gets hickeys from their ‘whiles’?” Snorted somebody.

I wasn’t much for gossip, but even I had to agree.

‘Whiles’, weren’t permanent romantic interests, they were just to pass the time while waiting to find your soulmate. ‘Whiles’ were people to satisfy ones curiosity about dating and that kind of stuff, with no strings attached or substance; ‘whiles’ had a bad connotation associated with.

“Oh, the boy had never gotten one mark in his body that wasn’t his, so, he assumed he didn’t have a soulmate, and the cousin has already been confirmed to be a matchless.”

A big “Oh!” Swept the room.

Matchless were born without a soulmate, which meant they could choose to be with whoever they wanted as long as they were matchless as well, or with nobody at all.

Sometimes I envied their freedom to choose, but other times I felt a sense of safety, knowing there was a person somewhere in the world meant just for me and me to them.

Soulmates were genetically evolved to complement one another, but some just wanted to experiment before settling down. Lately, though, matchless births were growing in number, and that upset people for whatever reason, as if the freedom of choice was scary or a curse, then again matchless were usually whiles and those were looked down on.

“That’s awful!” Said a girl.

“I knew Silver’s near freakish obsession with keeping her skin pristine and hidden would bring her issues finding her soulmate someday,” Declared another.

“I don’t think she wanted to find him,” whispered someone else.

“Oh well, they did find each other! You can’t hide from your destiny. That’s just silly!”

“Either way, I feel bad for the cousin, because apparently she and Silver’s soulmate were talking about marriage, since they thought they were both matchless.” Informed the first one.

I lost interest in the conversation when it turned speculative, and stood up to shove my P.E. uniform into my locker.

Someone suddenly called, “Everdeen, how about those orange blooms on your arms?”

My eyes widened, and immediately, I dropped my arms, pulling my sleeves as far down as they would go to cover my soulmate’s private marks.

“Oh… um… yeah. My mother thinks my soulmate might be an athlete,” I stuttered; Mama had only said such a thing in passing once, when a couple bruises appeared that didn’t match the usual ones. “Also, he seems to work with his hands. Lots of nicks and scrapes.” I wiggled my fingers in front of me. That much was true, my soulmate probably wore those marks freely.

“Oooh!” A girl, Delly Cartwright, reached to take a closer look. “Could be a carpenter. Or a locksmith? Maybe a farmer!”

“It could be the blacksmith’s son! Doesn’t Silver have an unmarried brother?” Asked another girl.

“Yeah… a kid like 10! Ugh, Everdeen, I really hope he’s not your soulmate… can you imagine being so much older than your soulmate?!” Interjected the same girl that spotted my bruises.

I scowled. Age was a stupid thing to complain about. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to have an age gap between soulmates… my father was six years older than my mother, and Mrs. Sae from the Soup Corner at the market, was a handful of years older than her soulmate.

Still…

“No. My soulmate is most likely my age. I’ve gotten his marks my whole life,” I shrugged, absently rubbing my arm, where the brand new bruise appeared that morning.

“Oh… at least that’s something. Knowing that your soulmate isn’t so much younger than you, and that he might at least have an apprenticeship somewhere,”

“Right,” I said, turning away, wondering if it was awful of me to wish for a boy who never got marks on his body, like Silver’s pristine skin? At least that would mean my soulmate was safe and treated fairly.

———————-

Papa and I shared many qualities. I inherited his coloring: olive skin, gray eyes, dark, straight hair, our penchant for singing mountain ballads, and the same quickening of the blood when we got a kill during hunting. Prim favored our mother more closely, with their fair skin, blonde wavy licks and blue eyes, they also were more skilled as healers and more soft-hearted towards animals.

The day Prim brought home a half dead cat, riddled with fleas and missing an ear to be patched up and adopted into our family, my first instinct was to drown the orange pelt and be done with it, but Prim got upset and worked up, and I just couldn’t stomach her cries over what I considered to be the world’s ugliest cat… his face was flat, like it’d been smashed against a wall…

It took a long time to calm my sister down, and Papa made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t kill the fur sack and pretend it ran away, which I only did reluctantly, because I loved my sister and didn’t want her to be crossed with me.

Papa asked me to walk with him into the woods, afterwards, which I did readily.

Before he lost his leg, we used to go hunting all the time; everything I knew about hunting and foraging, I learned from him. But after losing his leg, we’ve only gone to the woods to hike and get him used to his prosthesis in the uneven terrain.

It was good exercise for him. The fresh air seemed to lift his spirits too.

We didn’t hunt together anymore. Papa’s tread wasn’t feather-like the way it used to be, prey scattered away before we even saw it.

It was alright. We enjoyed being out there together, and he still had lots to teach me about edible plants. Sometimes he’d find one of his old spiles, and then it would hit me: all his knowledge would’ve been lost if he’d died in that cave-in. I would’ve never known where to look for those spiles; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to harvest sap and turn it into syrup.

Sometimes, I had to sit down and catch my breath when those thoughts knocked the wind out of me.

I was having one such moment, when out of the blue, my father spoke in a low, calmed tone.

“There’s a new chief of police,” he said while sitting on a log, next to me.

“I heard.” I wasn’t trying to be snippy with him, but every time a new chief or sheriff was appointed to our district, Papa wanted to run back into the precinct, and demand they look for my soulmate.

Appealing to the police never led anywhere. It didn’t matter if they had new staff, they always gave us the same spiel: can’t investigate an abuse case without a victim. They couldn’t go looking for a person without a name or an address.

After a while, one just started feeling like it was an impossible task, to help one child feel safe.

Papa sighed. “We could try ourselves. I’ve been saving some money, and we could—“

“What? We could what?” I snapped. “We could go door to door visiting every little town in Panem until we find the bruised up mutt matching me?” I was at the verge of tears.

Mama said that once my body was matured enough, I’d start feeling the pull. Well, I kinda felt it, calling desperately. It started around my 14th birthday, when I started having a regular cycle, and puberty was at its summit.

First, I was curious about my other half and began cataloguing all the soulmate marks I could see easily. Suddenly I had whole maps of my hands and arms, and legs. Mama suggested I keep track of my hidden marks too, just in case. The curiosity persisted and evolved into an incessant wondering: where was he? How was he getting along? How could I help him protect himself?

“Haymitch may have a way, sweetheart. He knows people, and he likes you… he says you’ve got spunk,” Papa smirked.

I’d met Haymitch Abernathy countless times. He was rude and sarcastic. I usually responded to him in kind, earning myself a host of reprimands from my parents— although Papa still couldn’t hide his pride, despite trying his hardest.

“What would he know about soulmates anyway?” I muttered.

Papa shook his head, standing up, “Haymitch lost his girl, mother and brother all at once during a special outing. There was a car crash. Haymitch was badly hurt, but survived. His family didn’t. His soulmate was 16, so was him. The government paid him excessively for damages and the loss of his soulmate, because it was proved the city had skimped on roadside safety that caused the accident. But money didn’t fill the void of losing his loved ones. Haymitch never recovered.

“He told me once that losing a soulmate is akin to drowning. Except you’re still breathing without filling your lungs with oxygen…” Papa picked up the bucket we brought to collect sap, and smiled sadly at me. “Katniss, I may be exaggerating by hounding the police about your soulmate, but sometimes I worry that if we don’t find that kid soon, you could very well share Haymitch’s fate. Believe me when I say that I’d do anything in this world, to keep that from happening to you.”

I turned 16 that spring.

I started carrying a small mirror on me, to try and look over my shoulders into places I couldn’t reach, obsessing over every little mark that sprouted anew on my back.

I wasn’t sure if the all consuming watching, and the doubts that kept me up at night, not knowing what was being done to my soulmate, wondering if he’d survive another day, was the pull Mama talked about, or simply terror at becoming the next Haymitch Abernathy. Either way, I became more vigilant for injured teens around me, but a sinking feeling in my gut started nagging at me, that my soulmate was an expert at hiding in plain sight by now… how would I ever find him if he was as adept at camouflaging as I suspected?

—————————

“This spot is perfectly in the middle of the turkeys’ path.”

I crossed my arms over my chest to glare at Gale, “You just spilled a bunch of blood there. No critter is gonna come this way anymore with that stink.”

“Turkeys aren’t that smart, Catnip,” Gale looked up from his belt after securing his new catch— his pants were covered in gore from where the rabbit nearly cut its own foot off trying to fight the snare’s grip. “I’m more than confident that if we set traps here, we’ll catch at least a fat Tom…more if we set up a system wide enough,”

After a somewhat rocky start, Gale and I learned to respect each other’s skills, even joining forces for certain seasons, like deer and turkey hunting. We also fished together on occasion. It was safe to say we had a friendship after three… almost four years of partnership in the woods. At 18 Gale was less obnoxious, but still a stubborn ass.

“And I’m telling you, the path is tainted now. We need to put feed on the other side of the bushes, to keep them in the area.”

“That’ll take weeks!”

“Then you shouldn’t have let that bunny bleed to death in here!”

“Listen here, Catnip—” whatever he was about to say, died in his throat.

“What?!” I demanded, angrily, when he just stared at me horror struck.

“Your nose!” He roared. “Your eyes!” He tumbled forward, and squished my cheeks in his one, long-fingered hand. “There’s more coming!”

I yanked myself away from him. “Cut it out!”

“I think your soulmate is getting the shit beaten out of!”

I grunted and brought my fingers to my face, as if I could feel the changes.

Gale had seen some of my bruises, enough to be sure I had a soulmate, but not enough to realize my soulmate was being abused.

I rubbed under my nose, and the tip of my index came back bloody.

I gasped. That had never happened before.

“How bad is it?” I asked Gale, frantically.

“Um… orange keeps popping up all over your face. There’s some running up your arm right now.” He sounded careful, but frightened. “It’s like… burn marks,”

I looked down, where indeed, long, fat tongues of intense orange glowed up my left arm. I’ve seen glowing marks before, but always in the tip of my fingers or the sides of my hands, I never connected the glowing with fire— burn marks— but it made sense. I guess my soulmate must handle fire regularly.

“What’s happening?” I pulled my little mirror from my pocket, to see my face, and nearly sobbed at the sight.

One eye was completely covered in orange. Burn marks ran all the way from my elbow up to my cheek, and part of my forehead. My nose had a tiny, bloody smear, and my lip had streaks of orange here and there.

Whatever happened, was bad.

“Fuck… Do you know where he is, by any chance?” Gale winced.

“No… but I’m about to find out!” I looked around for a place to sit, then pulled my small knife out of my boot.

Once seated, I examined my forearms. The flaming marks started at the elbow on my left arm, and went up on that side, my right arm was free of injury, except for my palms. Both were glowing orange, but not too bad.

“Okay… here goes nothing!” I gritted through my teeth, placing the tip of my knife to my arm, I traced the word, “WHERE?” crudely, and just deep enough to break the skin.

Gale made a face, but crouched closed by, staring intently. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked dubiously. “He might be unconscious for all we know,”

“We’ll see.”

The minutes rolled by and no answer came. I was starting to panic; all I could think about was would that be the day I became the next Haymitch Abernathy? At least he got to meet his soulmate and have a relationship with her before she died; I had no idea who mine was. Was it worse that way, knowing them and then losing them, or was it worst to never meet them at all? Would I become soulless? Would my entire body turn gray? Would I ever find another soulmate? Haymitch never said if he ever looked for another, but I knew it was possible to get a secondary soulmate if enough time went by.

“Look!” Gale shouted.

A shaky “D12” appeared under my message.

A relieved gasp left my mouth.

“District 12! That’s good! He could’ve been all the way in District 4, and then what were you gonna do? Call the authorities there?” Gale muttered, clearly invested in what was happening to me.

Tears stung my eyes. I wrote: “ME 2”

We’ve been in the same district the whole time, and I still had no idea where to find him!

I turned the knife back to the first word, and traced a line under it “WHERE?”

The answer came back faster. “S H”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I moaned, “What kind of abbreviation is that? Ugh! I’m trying to help you!” I screamed at my arm as if my soulmate could hear it.

“Seam House?” Gale mused… “No, there are hundreds, if not thousands of houses in the Seam,” he said.

The Seam was the poorer part of the district, where people like us lived: low income families, miners, laborers and the such.

“Ah! Ask if he means Slag Heap? If I was trying to pick a fight with someone, that’s where I’d go.”

“He didn’t pick a fight!” I snapped, defensive and angry. “He’s been beaten every other day, since I can remember. My parents used to go to the police station every year to see if they could do something about it. Nobody ever did! They always said we needed to figure out a way to communicate with him… well, I’m doing it now!”

Gale frowned, “That’s shitty. I’m sorry to hear that. The Slag Heap could still be it, though. Many people go there to be alone… if they’re running from someone, there’s plenty hiding spots,”

That sounded logical, “Okay… but the slag heap isn’t exactly small, and there’s some woodsy area to consider too,”

“Mmm… asking has been working so far,”

“Yeah, but the whole mutilation part is getting to me…” I glared, he wasn’t the one cutting his arm, “I’m starting to get woozy,”

“You’re a hunter, Catnip! Blood is nothing,”

“Animals, Gale! Not my own blood,”

“There’s no difference,” Gale cupped my face in his hands, to keep my eyes on his gray, steely ones. “we’re all animals. We all bleed the same. Your soulmate needs your help, if I knew who mine was, and I knew she was in trouble, I’d be rushing to them… you can do this, Catnip,”

I took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded. “I’ll ask him. As soon as we know where to go… could you please fetch my father? He’ll know what to do,”

“You got it, Catnip!” He let go of me, and I felt renewed courage after his weird pep talk.

Once again, I trace the tip of my knife on my skin, “SLAG H? WHERE?”

“YES NE”

“North East! I told you it’ll work!”

“Yeah,” I grumbled, spelling making one last message: “W8 4 ME”

“K”

With half a plan in motion, Gale rushed to find my father, and I made a mad dash to the slag heap, where years and years of dumping dirt and rocks removed from the mines had formed small hills and mounds at the edge of the district.

“Hello!” I called out loudly. “Can anybody hear me?!”

There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the slag heap, only hundreds of disturbed soil pits and little mountains… some were tall and wide enough they’ll easily conceal a person or two looking for privacy.

“Anybody here?” I called again.

A weak cough answered in the distance.

I rushed in it’s direction, hoping it was my soulmate, and not a couple trying to steal away a few minutes alone.

“Please, tell me where you are!” I called before another round of coughing reached me.

“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?” Came a weak, raspy voice from behind me.

I turned around but saw nothing besides dirt, and sticks, and moss on rocks.

I swallowed, “Where are you?” I stepped closer to the heap in front of me, and then…

“Well, don’t step on me!”

I jumped back and looked downwards, and finally saw dirty pieces of flannel and denim, incongruous with the area, and under all the debris, I realized a person had dug a little wedge at the foot of the hill, and thrown the stuff he’d dug out back on top of himself. The disguise was clever, camouflaging himself into the terrain.

I gasped and dropped to the ground, pulling handfuls of earth out of the way. A jolt of recognition hit me when a pair of bright blue eyes blinked open and shut, slowly, as if fighting off fatigue.

“Don’t go to sleep!” I warned.

“I’m sorry, but it might be too late for that already. There’s an angel hovering above me, and I’m not sure I’m not dreaming it,” a row of white teeth appeared from the soil.

My knee-jerk reaction was to chuff and roll my eyes, but if he was throwing me those cheesy lines, it meant he was somewhat lucid, and it was imperative to keep him that way.

“How do you know is not a nightmare?” I countered.

“Because Katniss Everdeen coming to my rescue, and being my soulmate could never be a bad dream. On the contrary It’s only my deepest, most desperate hope, really…” he trailed off, and closed his eyes again.

I was momentarily frightened.

“Keep talking,” I ordered, brushing dirt off his head. Some of it mixed in with his blood and sweat, turning into a thick mud. I could see more of his battered face; my heart beat erratically against my rib cage, there were so many bruises. “Peeta, keep talking,”

His untouched eye opened slowly, a lazy, sideways smile greeted me, warming me up. “You know my name?”

I chuckled, startled, “You know mine,”

“Everyone knows you, Katniss ‘the huntress’ Everdeen!” He reached up, tentatively, and touched the tip of my braid, whispering under his breath, something that sounded like: unreal.

Just saying his name felt otherworldly; like breathing for the first time. I’ve never uttered it before, for fear of bringing forward memories of that awful day in the rain, by the bakery’s scraggly apple tree.

“And you’re Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread. I’ve known your name for a long time, baker’s youngest son, whose kindness saved my entire family from starvation,” I cupped his injured face in my hands, and I couldn’t help the slight tremble in my voice.

He seemed to melt at the sound of my voice; then his hands came to touch my face. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you found me!” He said, an edge of incredulity and awe colored his tone, but then his face fell, “But, your sweet, beautiful face… it’s all…” a fat tear rolled down his muddy cheek, while his thumb gently caressed my temple and the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, Katniss… I never wanted you to look like this! I always tried to shift positions, so you’d never had to see how bad it got. I’m so sorry,” he was crying so hard, he started to shake and cough.

It took inhuman strength not to cry myself; I knew he needed me to protect him, and there would be time later to fall apart and feel emotional.

“Shush, I’m here now.” I knelt next to him and locked my arms around his head, pulling him against my chest, so he could hear my heart beating only for him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“I really hoped it was you. I really did…” he heaved into my neck, his arms wrapping gingerly around my waist, “thank you for finding me,”

“Of course I found you… I’ve been looking for you for ages,” I whispered, finally giving in, shedding some tears, relieved that the tension, fear, uncertainty, and frustration were finally gone. My soulmate was in my arms, where he belonged! “My parents started looking for you when we were little. But we’re together now,”

Peeta calmed down some, but he was still breathing too fast, “Now that you have me… what are you gonna do with me?” He asked meekly.

I smiled down at him, “I’ll put you somewhere safe, where you can never get hurt again,”

He closed his eyes. “I’d like that…”

“Peeta, you can’t go to sleep just yet, okay?”

“I’m so tired, Katniss,”

“I know,” I cooed. I had no idea I was capable of speaking with such softness. “My father will get here soon, and then we’ll patch you up real well.”

“I can’t go back to my house though—“

“You ain’t going there, kid!” Papa said from a few feet away. Gale and two police officers followed closely.

I must’ve been completely enthralled with my soulmate, because I never heard them coming,

“Even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you go back to that place!” My father stated.

And that was that!

——————————-

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Darius asked in a soft tone, trying to be encouraging.

My soulmate inhaled; one eye was so swollen it was completely shut, his other one roved around the room nervously. Peeta locked his gaze with mine, beseeching, and I offered my hand in support. He clung to it like a lifeline.

“My mother asked me to burn a pile of leaves and branches in the backyard that had been there since fall, but the branches were damp and it was taking me a while to fire it up. Since it’s the last week to burn stuff, my mom got impatient. She screamed at me, called me incompetent and useless… the usual stuff—“

“Does your mother call you names regularly?” Asked the officer.

“My mom calls everybody names. I guess that’s how she was raised. Her mom used to call her names too…” Peeta shrugged.

“That’s no reason to keep the cycle going,” my mama grumbled quietly, so only I could hear her.”

“After insulting you, what else happened?” Prompted the police woman, Officer Purnia.

Peeta scowled. “I told her I’d pour some lighter fluid on the pile and let it soak for a few minutes, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said I was doing it wrong, I was too stupid, I would never accomplish shit if I couldn’t even light up some dead branches… and, well. I got fed up. I told her she could start the fire herself if I was doing such a lousy job… my mom… she—She doesn’t like to be talked back…” He sagged on his hospital bed, and turned his face away.

“What do you mean?” Asked officer Purnia, taking notes, trying to keep an impassive mask on.

“The first slap landed across my ear because I dared to move away from her flying hand,” Peeta said tersely, “She didn’t like that either, so she took aim again, but with the bottle of lighter fluid on her palm. She practically smashed it against my face.” He stopped to gasp for air, while his good eye filled with tears. “I think fluid squirted everywhere, I smelled like my hair and clothes had been doused in the stuff,” he raked a shaking hand over the singed hair at his temple.

I caressed his arm to sooth him.

He smiled gratefully at me, and faced the officers to continue. “I’d just put a piece of burning cardboard into the pile. I guess the leaves caught fire during the squabble with mom, and I must’ve lost my balance after taking a plastic bottle full of liquid to the face, because next thing I know, I’m bracing my hands on the ground, on burning sticks, and then I’m on fire myself.”

Peeta sustained first degree burns on the different spots from his left forearm, up. Luckily, his wounds were managed as soon as we got to the emergency room, and his treating doctor said he would recover, with minimal scarring.

“How did you end up at the Slag Heap?” Asked Officer Darius.

Peeta sighed, “My mom kind of freaked out when she realized I was on fire. She picked up a rag from somewhere and started hitting me with it…” he paused, “in retrospect, I think she may have actually been trying to help me, but… I just saw it like she was still trying to beat me, so I ran off. I tripped, fell, then rolled on the ground, she started calling my name, coming closer to me. I was scared. I took off again and didn’t stop until I fell at the foot of that mound of dirt in the slag heap. That’s when I noticed my soulmate’s note.”

Officer Darius quirked up a reddish eyebrow, “Your soulmate’s note?”

“Yeah… these,” Peeta tried to peel back the bandage over his arm, but my mother put her hand over it, and shook her head.

“Here!” I said, immediately shoving my own arm in front of the officers.

Both examined my arm. “How did you think of doing that, Miss Everdeen?”

“I was inspired by your bosses actually,” I snarled.

“Katniss!” Mama chided, and then politely addressed the officers. “You see, my husband and I have come to the authorities for many years, urging them to find a way to locate our daughter’s soulmate. You see, she’d started exhibiting her soulmate’s bruises from a very young age, which in my professional experience, were inconsistent with normal toddler scrapes and bumps—“

“The chief of police always said to find a way to communicate with him, ask where he was… so I did,” I interrupted, haughtily. “I got you a real life victim to investigate. You’re welcome.”

The officers stared at me, flabbergasted.

Mama made a dismaying noise in the back of her throat, but Peeta’s face— burnt, bruised and swollen— lighted up, with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen a person direct at me.

Mama interjected, conciliatory, “My husband and I believe, your department should have enough evidence to investigate Peeta’s case, now?” My mother’s searching blue eyes seemed to x-ray the officers.

“Well, Miss and Mrs. Everdeen, Mister Mellark, I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.” Said Officer Purnia snapping shut her notebook.

“Mr. Mellark, your case worker, Miss Trinket, will be in as soon as the matter of your emergency custody is settled.” Informed Officer Darius, right before wishing us a good evening.

Peeta frowned, “Are they sending me to like a home or something? What about my brothers? They can’t stay home with my mom… she’ll go nuts on them!”

“No, no, Peeta,” Mama spoke softly, “Miss Trinket is already on it. Haymitch Abernathy has offered his house for your brothers to stay at for a few days while things get sorted out. You’re welcome to join them, of course, but your injuries need supervision and several cleanings daily, so Mr. Everdeen and I feel it is in everyone’s best interest if you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed enough.” Mama hesitated, and then patted my soulmate’s hand, “I hope that’s okay with you, but if it isn’t—“

“It’s absolutely great, ma’am! Yes, I—thank you,”

Mama nodded, “Well, I’m gonna go get some stuff taken care of, and check on that case worker. Then they’ll hopefully let us go home… Katniss, I’ll need your help with something before we leave, alright?”

“‘kay.”

“Mrs. Everdeen…thank you,” Peeta said meekly.

Mama just stood stoically by the door, “You’re family, Peeta, it’s the least we could do for you.” The door clicked shut leaving me alone with my soulmate.

We were both silent for a minute. Then Peeta said half amused, half shyly, “I think the guy cop liked you. I caught him smirking a couple of times after your ruthless answers.” His smile was crooked. Boyish. I almost swooned.

I shrugged. “I don’t think he cared that much,”

“Are you serious?” Peeta laughed, “Katniss, you have no idea the effect you can have,”

I scowled at him, and he just shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or complimenting me. He changed the topic before I could decide which.

“So, you’ve been looking for me then?” He sounded nervous, and a little uncertain, “isn’t it weird…we are soulmates, but the only thing I know for sure about you, is that your favorite color is green?” He rubbed his fingers together, then showed me the tips, where he had dark green spots, exactly on the same place I had permanent calluses from pulling on my bow string.

I bit my lower lip, studying the thin spidering of green nicks and scratches, were I surmised my own marks have appeared after my daily trips into the woods.

“Your favorite color is orange. Not bright, but muted…”

“Like the sunset,” he finished for me.

Mind bonding wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities between soulmates, but my understanding on the matter was, that the bond had to be physically sealed before a pair could develop those empathic connections, where soulmates shared perfectly synchronized thoughts, as if they had one mind. Peeta and I weren’t there just yet, but it felt like we understood each other pretty well already.

He just stared at me in fascination, before his face fell, “I hope you don’t get permanently disfigured, if my burn scars don’t go away completely… you are so pretty.”

I rolled my eyes, pleased that he thought I was pretty, but not really knowing how to respond graciously. I’d never been called pretty by a boy before, not that it’d have the same effect as when Peeta said it… “You’re just saying that I’m pretty because I’m your soulmate,”

He smiled sadly, “No… I really mean it. I’ve had a crush on you since I can remember. I just new I belonged to someone since I was like 4, when I saw my first soulmate scratch on my knees. Your favorite colors back then were teal and pink. Your marks were always swirls of the two colors. I liked them. I liked that I belonged to someone who enjoyed colors, like myself… I wondered what your marks looked like, but then, I hoped you never had to see my marks. I was ashamed of them.”

My chest tightened, I climbed onto his bed, and pressed my side right against his, “Hey… I’ve like your marks.” I stuttered, “my parents never let me see the ones on my back until I was older, but I liked the ones you got in normal places. Yours appeared as rainbows where we were little.” I held his hand in mine. “I don’t care if we stay fire mutts forever, Peeta, the important thing is that we are together now,”

“Thank you for finding me,”

“Thank you for leading me to you,”

We leaned our heads together, and fell into an easy silence.

“Katniss…”

“Mmm,”

“We are soulmates.”

I tilted my head away, to look at him, “Yeah. We already established that,” I said suspiciously.

Peeta smirked, “You know, we’re supposed to be madly in love…so, it’s okay to kiss me whenever you want to,”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, but he was right. In any other circumstance, I’m sure we would’ve already progressed into couple-y, lovey-dovey stuff.

“If you’re already fishing for kisses, that means you’re healthy then!” I kissed his forehead. “But let me tell you right now, cheek and sass won’t take too far, sir,”

“It won’t?” he pouted, “then I’ll just have to swoop in when I see an opening,” he leaned into me, and I let him plant a peck, full on my lips.

My first kiss ever, and all I could register was how chapped his lips were… besides the small fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of my stomach, of course.

“Well, time for a sip of water, and you should rest some too.” I said feeding him the straw in the Styrofoam cup full of icy water by his bed.

After he drank, we gravitated towards each other, meeting in the middle. Our second kiss was short, sweet, and full of relief.

I liked it. In fact, I wanted another, but Peeta was drowsy after the day we’ve had.

“I remember you used to sing, so beautifully, even the birds would stop to listen,” Peeta said, shyly… “would you… mind singing for me?”

“I don’t sing all that much nowadays, but if that’s what you want…��

He stared at me expectantly, so I had no other choice. I combed back his freshly washed hair, and started.

“Just close your eyes;

The sun is going down.

You’ll be alright;

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound...”

When Mama came back, Peeta was asleep, and so she took me outside while my father sat in the room with the case worker, signing in my soulmate’s release papers, waiting for him to wake up.

“I want you to take these,” Mama produced a packet of medicine from a white, pharmaceutical baggie.

“Birth control?!” I groaned, embarrassed.

“Don’t look so scandalized, Katniss,” Mama rolled her eyes, “You and Peeta are healthy, newly acquainted teenaged soulmates, who will suddenly coexist together in close quarters. Papa and I agreed that starting you on contraceptives is the right thing to do,” she fixed me with a stare that broker no protests, “That said, we are not giving you carte blanche to act on pure hormonal instincts, Katniss. While we aren’t so naive to believe you won’t explore intimacy with your soulmate, we fully expect you to use caution, and make responsible decisions. Is that clear?”

I nodded, and snatched the pills from Mama’s outstretched hand. My face was burning with mortification, but I was grateful for my parents’ wherewithal and openness.

The next few days proved harsh and blissful at the same time. After 11 years pestering the authorities, Papa finally got the law to prosecute my soulmate’s parents for abuse and neglect. To call it a victory, was understatement.

Peeta’s father was declared another victim of the Witch’s abuse, but court ordered him to see a therapist and get evaluated by a professional, before he could come back home to his sons.

Mrs. Mellark was charged with endangering a child, battery, abuse and arson. She was court ordered to seek anger management and psychological counseling. She had been abused as a child too, and after watching her son in fire, it finally clicked in her head, that she needed to put a stop to the cycle… late as it may be. She went willingly when the police served her arrest warrants.

Since Peeta and his middle brother were still minors, they were temporarily placed under their eldest brother’s care; but the eldest brother was only 19 and had no idea how to be a father figure, so strange as it was, my parents insisted on having them all bunk in our tiny house, which was comically insufficient. Thank heavens Haymitch Abernathy was still willing to help.

The grumpy old drunk invited the lot of us to stay at his place for as long as we needed, and after cleaning up all the empty bottles and general messes around his huge house, we could enjoy the place at our leisure.

The boys kept working at the bakery, since they needed a source of income, and something to keep themselves occupied. Mama said they needed the normalcy of their business to cope.

It was a good thing Haymitch’s house was so big, since Peeta started having horrible nightmares after his mother was released from holding, after making bail; her trial was still pending, but my poor soulmate suffered severe PTSD from the events that brought us together. Neither of his brothers wanted to share a room with him at night…which allowed me to slip in when I heard him crying out desperately and fearfully.

Peeta would only go back to sleep after I laid beside him and sang, while carding my fingers through his sweat-damped, ashy blond waves.

“I’m not okay until I can see you’re safe,” he told me once.

After the third night in a row of this happening, I just stayed with him in his bed. My parents didn’t exactly approve— we were still 16— but there wasn’t much they could say to stop us. After all, our soulmate bond trumped any other familial bond; we just couldn’t legally get married and apply for housing until we were both 18.

Peeta still woke up in cold sweats at night, but my arms were there to fend off the terrors, and so were my lips.

On the night I felt a hunger so consuming and devastating, gnawing at me from my core, radiating to the tips of my being, I was glad my mother put me on birth control.

My soulmate gently, but steadily joined us together, cementing our physical bond for the rest of time, while branding his love and adoration to me into my very skin, with fevered lips and shaky hands. We gasped and whispered vows of devotion to one another, and then an explosion of feelings and emotions went off… I couldn’t tell where his life force started, and mine ended. We were one. Sharing a single soul.

After, we laid tangled together, our hearts beating as one. Peeta kissed my knuckles, and asked.

“You looked for me, for years. Real or not real?”

“Real.”

He kissed my forehead, “Will you sing?”

“Of course,” I combed back his hair with loving fingers, and sang.

“Just close your eyes;

You’ll be alright;

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound.”

#alliswell21 #lovely-tothe-bone #prompt 154 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

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desolate (8)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 3.9k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @ditttiii @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @honestlyfuriousharmony

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

The bright fluorescence lights adorning the outside of the shop are starting to hurt your eyes. You’ve gotten a few weird stares, but you’re finding it hard to make your feet move an inch closer. You can’t seem to make up your mind if you’re doing the right thing or not. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he gets angry with you for treating him like you own him?

You glance sideways just in time to meet the security guard’s eyes; the uncertain expression on his face making you realize you’ve been standing in the same place like a crazy person long enough for him to do a third lap. The awkwardness prompts you enough to enter the store, although you immediately feel a little lost. You never expected you would end up in a hybrid store, at least not after you thought you had adopted a regular cat.

“Hi, welcome to Hybrids-r-us! Can I help you with anything?” A girl, probably younger than yourself, approaches you with a smile. She’s wearing a black shirt with the store’s logo on, and the nametag fastened on her chest says Soo-young.

“I’m a little lost,” You admit, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets as you give her a sheepish smile back.

“That’s what I’m here for! So what kind of hybrid do you own?” Soo-young asks.

“Oh, I don’t–“ You cut yourself off. You do by no means own Yoongi, but it would be weird to show up at a hybrid store if you weren’t buying things for your own hybrid.

“I mean, he’s a cat hybrid,” You say, and Soo-young’s face lights up despite your little slip.

“What kind of breed is he? I have a Persian one myself! He’s the cutest little thing ever,” She rambles excitedly as she starts leading you down the aisles of various hybrid articles.

“Siberian?” You can’t help the unsure tone of your voice, considering you actually don’t have a clue what type of breed he actually is. But you know your old neighbour’s cat was a Siberian, and since Yoongi reminded you so much of him when you first saw him, you figure his breed can’t be too far off.

“He’s a fluffy one!” Soo-young squeals, stopping in front of a section marked as ‘cat hybrids’. “I would recommend getting him some clothes from these racks, they have bigger cut-outs for fluffier tails,” You listen attentively as she lists of her recommendations, following her gestures to see what products she thinks might work and what she thinks Yoongi might enjoy. You wince inwardly as you think of the crude hole you cut into your sweatpants so that they would fit with Yoongi’s tail. You’re sure it can’t be too comfortable even if the fabric is soft.

“Call for me if you need any help!” Soo-young leaves you to pick out your stuff by yourself, you giving her a quiet thanks as you turn around to face the massive selection of clothes.

Your wallet is lighter than it should be, so you make a bee-line towards the clearance racks, making sure that you pick out clothes from the right ones. You didn’t even think that the clothes would differ based on breeds, and so you’re thankful for Soo-young’s input. You have no idea what Yoongi likes or what his style is considering he’s just been pulling clothes from your closet so far, and so you try to stick to neutral colours. Black and white are classics for a reason after all.

You probably should have asked for Yoongi’s size, but you know where your own clothes are either loose or tight on him, and so you try your best to eyeball it. After you’ve picked out a decent amount of clothes, at least enough to give Yoongi some different outfits to circle through; you follow the direction Soo-young pointed you in earlier to the skin and hair care section.

There’s an overwhelming amount of different products to choose from, but you try to go for those that promise to give silky soft fur and extra shine. You know cats love to groom themselves, so hopefully that applies to their hybrid counterparts as well.

You try not to look at the amount after Soo-young is done ringing up your things for Yoongi. You can already tell it’s too much compared to the little sum that’s supposed to last you another two weeks. But, Yoongi deserves it. You’re not sure how long he’s staying, but he deserves to have his own things and feel at home – for however long that might be.

The bags crinkle obnoxiously loud in the stairwell up to your floor, and you just pray Yoongi won’t take your gesture the wrong way. As you step in front of your door, it flies open before you can even reach for your key. A slender hand reaches out to pull you inside, and you barely manage to squeeze through the opening before Yoongi leans over your shoulder to close the door behind you.

“You’re home late,” Yoongi’s breath tickles against your ear as he locks the door, the ticklish sensation making you clutch the bags tighter in response. His chest brushes against your shoulder as he steps back, but you find the space he’s given you to breathe doesn’t do much when his eyes are locked so intensely onto yours.

“Why?” He prompts, eyebrow quirking at the lack of response.

“Oh uh, I went shopping! After work .. That’s why I’m home late,” You grimace. It had been a spur of the moment thing; otherwise you would’ve let Yoongi know beforehand. You wish you had enough money to get him a phone, but sadly, that just isn’t in your budget at all right now.

Yoongi’s eyes finally slide down to the bags in your hands, head tilting curiously as he sees the logo plastered on the sides.

“It’s for you,” You thrust the bags towards him, a flush creeping up your neck as Yoongi gives you a weird look.

“For me? Why?”

“You need your own clothes, you can’t just keep stealing mine.” Yoongi gives you a half-hearted shrug in response, but his tail does an interested flick despite the nonchalant expression on his face.

You rattle the bags in impatience, and Yoongi swipes them out of your hands with a huff.

“Go wait in the living room,” Yoongi mutters as he breezes past you to go into the bathroom. You’re not entirely sure why he wants to wait there, but you oblige easy – only stopping to remove your coat and shoes.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but Yoongi holding his own personal fashion show definitely wasn’t it. You have to bite down on your lips to hold back the smile threatening to take over your whole face as he ventures back and fourth between the bathroom and the living room, showing off new clothing every time. You can tell he’s trying his best to seem disinterested, but the little quirk of his lips and the more energized spring in his step tells you everything you need to know.

“What about these? Are they too tight?” Yoongi gives you a slow spin, showing off the black pair of jeans you picked out. You feel the smile die on your lips as your eyes follow the curve of Yoongi’s body, your throat going dry as you realize they probably fit him too well. “Maybe a little?” You squeak, desperately trying to subtly clear your throat to make your voice sound normal again. You’re not sure how you’ll survive being at home if he starts wearing those jeans frequently. Yoongi peers down at his legs, taking a few steps back and forth. He lets out a low hum.

“I like them,” He smirks; the look in his eyes perhaps a little too knowing for your liking. Yoongi walks out of the room before you can convince him otherwise, his fluffy tail swishing languidly behind him. You wait for a second to make sure he’s gone before you reach up to fan your face, desperately trying to make the heat in your cheeks go away before he returns.

Thankfully for you though, Yoongi settles on using a new pair of sweatpants you got for him instead. You’re both relaxing on the couch and finishing up your dinners, the TV providing some mindless entertainment in the background.

Yoongi silently collects your plates, the expression on his face seeming a little torn as he brings them out into the kitchen. It takes a few minutes before Yoongi returns, when he does, his ears are turned back, posture tense as he drops down on the couch besides you.

“I need to tell you something,” Yoongi grumbles out before you can ask. His tail is resting in his lap, pale fingers threading through the long fur. The cat hybrid’s jaw is clenched as he stares out into the room, and you feel the mood of the room turn like someone has flipped a switch.

“Okay ..” You murmur hesitantly. Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, like it pains his lungs to just even expel the air.

“I think I need to tell you about my past – why you found me at the shelter,” Yoongi’s dark eyes flicker over to you quickly before he moves his gaze back to the wall. You suck in a quick breath, the topic catching you completely off guard. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as you give him an encouraging nod in response.

“I’m not hiding because I did anything wrong. I just .. needed to get away. The last place I lived wasn’t – it wasn’t good,” He swallows thickly, ears pulling back until they’re flat against his head.

“Actually, it was a hellhole. My owner –” Yoongi’s lips curl in disgust as he spits out the word, “was an abusive ass. He didn’t care about me unless he needed someone to let his anger out on,” You sink further down into the couch as Yoongi’s words knock into you one by one. It’s not like this is something you haven’t encountered before, hell, your job is dealing with cases like Yoongi’s, but it still feels like someone has plunged a knife inside your chest.

“One night he came home drunk. He passed out in the hallway, but I just knew, I knew he would wake up in a few hours and lay all of his fucking issues onto me and I was just so tired,” Yoongi’s voice breaks, his shoulders hunching as he brings his tail closer to his body. You feel sick as you notice Yoongi’s fingers dragging over clear patches of skin between his fur. You’ve seen that a lot in your case files. Punishment for misbehaving. You advert your eyes back to Yoongi’s face, feeling guilty for never having noticed it before.

“So I ran. I had tried it once before, but a stray hybrid is so easily noticed. I knew that if I got caught again and sent back that I wouldn’t ..” Yoongi trails off, voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand what he meant to say. I wouldn’t have survived.

“It’s easier to hide as a cat, but I suppose someone saw me loitering around in the same area for too long and decided to call it in. Hybrid shelters normally don’t accept regular animals; but I guess the one you found me at did, at least until they could transfer me to a proper one. It really wasn’t that difficult to convince them I wasn’t a hybrid, you just got to pretend really hard to not understand what they’re saying or doing,” Yoongi shrugs half-heartedly, a bitter smile on his lips.

“I was there for a month before you adopted me, or well, cat me. Hybrid me is still legally owned by that fuckhead,” He hisses, hands shaking as he gathers them in his lap.

“I couldn’t tell anyone in case they sent me back. There was no one I could trust.”

Your eyes are burning with unshed tears. The more you get to know about Yoongi’s story the angrier you feel. You just can’t understand why people would treat hybrids like that – fellow humans like that. Yoongi looks so small and beaten down sitting on the opposite side of the couch of you, and you can’t believe your snarky kitty has been carrying something like this by himself for so long. You can’t help but feel like you’ve somehow failed him – that you could’ve done better.

“There was no one .. until you,” Yoongi utters softly, the mellow voice shutting down your screaming thoughts.

“Yoongi ..” You breathe, your throat so choked up it’s hard to say anything else. The cat hybrid shakes his head as he turns to look at you, a gentle smile forming on his lips as he sees your glossy eyes.

“I just thought you deserved to know why I’m here. No need to get sappy,” He huffs, reaching forward to swipe his thumb across your cheek. You’re surprised to see moisture clinging to his finger as he pulls back, and you hastily run your hands under your eyes to catch any other stray tears. You let out a weak laugh, embarrassed that you didn’t even know you were crying.

“But why the sudden honesty?” You ask. Today was the same as yesterday, and the day before. Well .. almost the same.

“You didn’t feel like you had to tell me because I brought you clothes, right?” You feel horrified. What if Yoongi felt like he owed you something?

Yoongi takes a look at your panic stricken expression and snorts, his long fingers reaching out to grab yours. He gives your hand a squeeze, his thumb running over your knuckles.

“Don’t worry y/n. It was just as I said; I thought you deserved to know. Who knows what will happen tomorrow, or the day after that. I just wanted at least one person to be aware of my situation in case ..” He trails off, eyes growing blank as he stares out the window behind your shoulder. He looks tired, you notice. Maybe he hasn’t been sleeping as well as you thought he had. Or maybe this has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. Whatever it is, you’re determined to fix it.

“Ah well, now you know!” He seems to snap himself out of whatever thoughts that took over him, the glint you’ve grown so accustomed to returning to his eyes.

“Yeah, now I know,” You give his hand a squeeze in return, but for you, it’s more than just a confirmation. It’s a promise.

You’re not that surprised that you end up with Yoongi’s soft hair between your fingers again. He has a hand curled around your knee, head resting on top of your thighs.

“This might sound weird – but the first time I saw you I really thought I was seeing a ghost,” You mutter. Your fingers halt momentarily, the memory of when you first saw Yoongi at the shelter still so vivid in your mind. Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise at the sudden lack of contact, nudging his head back against your palm until you take the hint and resume your scratching.

“A ghost?” He questions, his voice muffled against the fabric of your sweats.

“Yeah. You reminded me so much of my neighbour’s old cat. You were like a splitting image,” You hum, a smile slipping onto your lips as you remember how cute Fluffball was.

“But of course, now I know you’re two very different cats. He was never as grumpy as you are,” You stifle down a laugh as Yoongi’s tail flickers irritably. He’s too easy to annoy.

“What happened?” He grumbles out.

“He passed away. My neighbour said he had suddenly gotten sick and there wasn’t anything that could be done to help him. I cried for like a week afterwards,” You frown, the little special place you have for Fluffball in your heart aching as you remember how upset you were.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi’s tail curls around your wrist, the long silky fur almost ticklish against your skin. You hear the hesitation in his voice before he continues,

“I often heard that I looked like my mom,” He murmurs.

“Really? What’s she like?” You run your fingers down to the back of his neck, brushing over the shorter hairs at his nape.

“I–I don’t remember. I was taken away when I was really young,” Yoongi says quietly, his tone mournful. You don’t even want to imagine how Yoongi must have felt, so young and alone and probably terrified all by himself.

“I’m sorry,” You echo his words back to him, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench your jaw tightly as you continue to stroke the his hair; the same low hitching purrs rumbling out of his chest once your conversation lulls. You’re going to make sure Yoongi’s owner will have hell to pay for all the things he has done to him, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, the light from your computer screen almost making your eyes water. Your computer is whirring loudly in protest as it tries to process all the new data and files you’ve entered into it. It’s way past due for an update, but it isn’t like you are going to go and ask your boss for a new one now. Not when the whole company is still in shambles trying to figure out the breach.

The office is almost completely empty, and it only makes your struggling computer sound even more pitiful. You stare mindlessly at the glowing circle that has replaced your cursor, knowing you can’t do anything else until it has worked through everything you asked it to.

“Staying late?” A deep voice startles you out of your thoughts, making you jump as you swivel around on your chair. You’re greeting by the kind face of Mr. Yang, an older man that has worked here even longer than you have. You honestly consider him as some sort of distant uncle.

“You bet,” You wince. “Got a load of new cases today, and this old thing doesn’t seem to want to cooperate,” You jab your thumb over your shoulder to direct his attention to the screen behind you.

He gives you a knowing sigh, dusting off his hat before he places it on his head.

“Well don’t stay too late now, you hear me? This whole hacking business is making me anxious,” He gives your shoulder a friendly pat, his face tight with worry as he notices the pretty much deserted office aside from you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here as soon as this finishes logging the new data,” You give him a tired smile, and Mr. Yang takes that as his clue to leave. He tips his hat with a smile of his own as he passes, and you settle back down in your chair, pretty sure you’re in for the long haul. Thankfully you remembered to tell Yoongi that you would probably be coming home late –new case files almost always resulted in you working overtime to catch up.

It doesn’t even take five minutes before your computer screen goes black, the whirring fan stuttering loudly before it promptly shuts off. You curse under your breath, annoyed that it had to act up now, with the office close to empty and the IT department most likely abandoned long ago. You try pressing the power button repeatedly, but to no avail. You’re going to need help if you want it to work again.

You push out of your chair with a huff, opting to leave your stuff behind as you hurry towards the staircase. The likelihood of the IT department being empty is high, but you at least have to check to make sure.

Your footsteps echo loudly as you descend down the two flights of stairs. You always dislike staying at work late, the normally bustling building feeling so eerie when it’s quiet and empty. You shake of the tight feeling in the back of your neck, rolling your shoulders purposefully as you push the door to the IT department open.

There’s no need to feel nervous, there isn’t like anything is suddenly going to pop out of the dark and grab you. Maybe you should stop watching those scary movies that has been marathoning on TV for the past week.

The floor is dark, as you expected. You’re about to turn around when you notice a light further down in the room, the blue hue of it unmistakable. It seems like one worker is staying late after all. You trudge down the middle of the room, passing by the empty desks one by one until you get closer to the source of the light. It’s a computer that’s still on, the screen lighting up the desk in a soft glow. But as you come closer, you realize that this desk seems empty too.

“Maybe they forgot to turn it off,” You mutter, the silence in the large room swallowing up your words. Your eyes travel over the empty desk, a flash of pink rooting you in your spot. You lean in closer, your eyes widening in alarm as you recognize the cat-formed sticky notes.

You don’t understand how they ended up here. No one from the IT department has been near your area lately, and you can’t imagine anyone from your floor bringing it down here either. Moving your gaze ever so slightly makes you suck in a harsh breath. Lying next to your sticky note pad is the unmistakable shape of your favourite pen, the end of it showing off the indents of your teeth from all your nervous biting.

You grip the edge of the desk tightly as you realize that your thing going missing aren’t a coincidence, nor is it just your co-workers simply displacing them. You suddenly realize that you do not want to meet the owner of this desk, your work be damned. This isn’t something you want to deal with now, and especially not alone.

You quickly turn around, legs ready to bolt out of there, but you freeze in your tracks as you see the large shadow blocking your path. You take a hesitant step backwards as the shadow moves closer, your legs knocking into the sides of the desk.

The movement is enough to finally bring the figure into the light from the computer screen, and you feel your heart stop as you recognize the lanky stature and big eyes staring right back at you. It’s the same guy you saw that day in the lunchroom with Jihyo, and the same guy that was loitering outside of your boss’ office.

You can see the surprise flit across his face as he realizes that it’s you, but the blank expression his face quickly settles into makes your stomach lurch uneasily.

It’s only then that it dawns on you what kind of situation you’re really in. You’re here all alone, pressed up against a desk in the dark with no possible escape – at least not unless it’s through the man in front of you.

You’re trapped.

You’re screwed.

- - - -

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the eight chapter of desolate, now we’re just over halfway there! Some backstory was on the menu today .. And uh oh, what's going to happen to y/n now? 👀

Hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon! <3

#hybrid!bts #cat hybrid yoongi #bts au #yoongi #hybrid au #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi #fluff #scenting #angst #romance #bts #suga #hybrid bts

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mssleepy876b · 3 years

Text

Family Ties- Chapter 3

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 2469

Warnings: domestic violence

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 3

Jay and Hailey took Brielle to her former home first when they left Chicago Med. Hailey and Jay cleared the house using her keys to be sure it was empty before she entered. “Can I have a few minutes in my room to change?” she asked once the officers from the hospital brought her inside.

“Sure, go ahead.” Hailey said following her to the top of the stairs.

While he waited, Jay searched Michael’s study and stationed the officers who had been at the hospital to help guard the house while they were there. Hailey heard Brielle open the bedroom door a little over five minutes later. She walked down the hall and saw Brielle already with a pile of clothes on the bed. Brielle had changed into a pair of blue jeans and a cream short sleeve sweater with tennis shoes on. She had pulled her hair back into a high ponytail moving as she entered a large walk-in closet. She already had a smaller jewelry box on the bed leaving a larger one next to the dresser. Hailey saw her going through her shoes and other accessories next to be sure she had what she needed. Brielle had pulled mostly work style outfits and comfortable clothing that she felt secure in and that she liked. Hailey was surprised at the racks of clothes in the closet still full.

“It isn’t the glamourous life everyone thinks. These were loaned to me by force I would believe. I don’t know how or by whom and I don’t want that burden moving forward. My life has to change if I am to survive. I can’t take that negativity with me into my future.” Brielle said to her quietly her voice tinged with sadness. “Can we pack what is on the bed and these and I will get my bathroom things?”

“Sure, let me get a box from Jay.” Hailey said.

“Here, we can use my luggage set too. It was mine before Michael. It was a splurge when we first started dating. He would jet-set me all over wowing me. I realize how fake that is now. It was all for his work.” Brielle said her voice sounding pained, rolling a suitcase out of the closet at her side.

Jay brought up a box and found Brielle and Hailey gathering up her things from the bedroom. After they secured what Brie wanted from that room, Brielle went into her sitting room as Michael called it leading Jay and Hailey behind her. She pulled photo albums and specific books from the shelves. She also pulled pictures off the wall. “This was the only place I could have my family pictures. Michael demanded his family be center focus in the rest of the house.” Brielle said as Hailey watched recognizing Brie in the pictures.

Once finished there, They followed her to the kitchen where she grabbed a binder of her family recipes and then into Michael’s main office. She opened his wall safe using the combination in his desk and pulled out her wallet and identification papers as well as a trust her parents had for her to access since she was now an adult. Michael had taken the papers years ago and told her he would keep them safe for her. He denied her access to them later as the relationship changed as his control tightened on her life. Brie allowed Jay to search the safe and take whatever documents he chose. While he did that, she moved to a library and pulled several books that had meaning to her as well as pulling files from a desk to take with her. She then moved to a 2nd office to pull more things that she had from her parents’ home that she wanted to be sure she had. Jay had caught up with them and she let him have access to the safes in the library and the 2nd office.

She looked around as they finally prepared to leave. The two officers helped Hailey and Jay remove her belongings from the house that they had staged near the front door. She paused at the door and set down her keys and her engagement ring at a table by the back of the couch in the living room. Jay looked at her concerned. “I don’t want it anymore. It represents lies and a life that was never meant for me. I never plan to return here so I don’t need the keys either. I don’t have a car that is mine anymore. He sold off anything that was just mine so he could isolate me.” She said. She grabbed several jackets from the front closet threw them in to a box, locked the bottom lock of the front door, and closed it behind herself and Jay.

He placed his arm around her waist as they walked to the car, he had driven them in as a shiver rolled across her body. His presence helped her keep her fear down as the reality set in as his arm supported her as she walked. “He’s going to be furious. That or his Uncle Angelo will. They demanded such control and loyalty. I don’t know that I will ever be rid of them.” She whispered to Jay squeezing a coat to her chest as the officer took the box of her coats.

Jay quietly helped her into backseat the car. He then drove to the 21st District office. The officers moved her personal belongings to a storage area in the office as Jay and Hailey went to escort her to the upper stairs’ offices for Intelligence. Her fears rose as she climbed the stairs clutching her jacket to her chest. Jay felt a shiver go down her back as she came to the top of the stairs. Hailey introduced everyone and they moved slowly so that she was not afraid. Voight came up last. Hailey caught a look of recognition flash across Voight’s face as well as anger as he looked over Brielle’s face and bruises that were visible.

“This is Sergeant Voight, Brielle. He runs our Unit.” Hailey said.

Brielle looked him in his eyes and spoke. “You are brave to take on Michael and his family. I know they know of you as I have heard your name before, but they terrify me. Your name sticks in my memory for some other reason, but I can’t think of it right now.”

Hank spoke calmly after nodding his head. “Angelo and I have had dealings before. Michael is not as important to his uncle as Michael thinks. Angelo told us where he was once he saw your pictures. It will be made clear to Michael that you are to be left alone.”

“Michael is chafing under Angelo. Thinks he is old and foolish. Wants control on his own.” Brielle told him.

She shivered again. Jay caught it and spoke to Brielle. “Are you cold?”

“A little but also nervous and sore. A lot of change in less than 24 hours.” Brielle said quietly her voice displaying her exhaustion leaning slightly on Jay’s shoulder.

“We will watch out for you, Brielle. You asked for help and we are here to do that for you.” Jay said as Hank watched them.

Hank immediately led them into the break room where he questioned Brielle about everything she knew about Michael, his work, his colleagues, where he worked, who he met with, how he helped his uncle and then finally about that last argument.

“Brielle, what started the fight last night?” Hank asked.

Tears fell down Brie’s cheeks as the memories flashed back. “It was stupid, petty really. He felt I disrespected him in front his cousin. He felt I was not completing my role as his future wife. Didn’t show enough respect to him as it was his oldest cousin Carlo who was visiting that night. I had a busy day at the Charity Center that day and didn’t know Carlo was coming to visit. I was tired. The charities we work with are mid-funding cycle. They need all the activities they can to get donations. We were coordinating them all day. I came home and was exhausted. I had working non-stop. I hadn’t even stopped for lunch that day. Dinner wasn’t ready when he arrived with Carlo and I hadn’t even changed from my work clothes. He dragged me upstairs, bruising my arm here around my right elbow, and forced me to change into an outfit of his choice. He then threw keys at me to go get carry-out from his distant cousin Alonzo’s restaurant. I returned, my nerves on edge and acted as what I thought was a perfect hostess. Carlo always was one I liked of Michael’s family. He was charming, sweet almost if you didn’t know who his family was or what they do.”

She took a shaky breath and felt Jay’s hand take hers. She sighed trying to calm her fears and continued. “Once Carlo left, I immediately cleaned the kitchen and the dishes and went to prepare for today. Michael called me down from our room and ordered me into the car outside the house. It was unusual for him to do that. He would often head out without me most nights. I could tell he was mad, and I didn’t understand why. I was worried when it was the town car that he had ready. It is heavily tinted, and you can never tell who or what was inside. I jumped in and slid as far from Michael as I could as the fear filled me. I also tried to be sure that I could exit on my own if I chose. Once Freddy closed the door and the car was moving, Michael struck out at me.” She began to shake as the fear set in and felt Jay’s hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him, took a breath and continued. “He grabbed me by my hair. I had it in a ponytail by that point because I had been cleaning and didn’t want to get it dirty. He slapped me as he held me by my hair. I can’t remember what he said, I know he was saying something, but I didn’t hear it. I was in shock as the pain stung my face. He had never come to that point before where he had ever hit me before. I was stunned and confused. He had such a strong grip on my right arm again so I couldn’t stop him. He then took off his belt with one hand and proceeded to use it to hit me all over with it. It felt like he was using the buckle mostly. He focused on my mid-section, I guess from where it hurt. I felt weaker and weaker as he hit me. I begged him to stop. I tried to ask why but he just swung the belt again. He then set the belt aside and backhanded my face at least 4 times before we came to a stop. I was left in the car as he gathered himself and stepped out to enter some building just down the block from here. I heard him order his driver to stand outside the car but not to get back in until he returned. Jesse was driving that night; he was a guard who was kind of protective over me and hated how scared Michael would make me at times. I waited until I had the energy and I heard Jesse get called inside. I used that chance to get out and run. I knew if I stayed Michael would continue to hurt me. His anger could flip like a switch so quickly from one extreme to the next. He would be calm for those he met with but fly off the handle at any moment with me. I remember the fear that I had to get away. I was disoriented and confused about where I was. I just knew I needed help and needed to get to safety. I ran down the dark alley and when I didn’t hear anyone following, I turned up towards the station, I guess. I just saw the lights. Thought I could be safe here. I saw Detective Halstead and just had an instinct that he would help me. It then gets hazy for me other than I remember his green eyes and the sensation of safety once he met me mid-way.” She said as her body shivered again.

She looked up and saw the anger in Jay’s face, the deep set look in Hank’s and the tears in Hailey’s eyes. Hank reached his hand out for her. “I promise you, Brielle. He will never get the chance to do that again. Hailey will put the transcript into the computer and get it typed for you to sign. I am reaching out to some of my contacts to get you a safe place to stay tonight and then we will go from there. Plus, I known you and your parents a long time, Brielle. It has been since before Camille died that we have been together. You look exactly like your mom, but your eyes are your dad’s. You grew up as much with us as Justin did at your house with your parents. Michael will never get close enough to hurt you again, you are my family, Brielle.” He said calmly to her.

Hailey nodded and left, Hank stood and looked to Jay. “Keep an eye on her, Halstead. She is a part of this family. He made a mistake. He just doesn’t know how large yet.”

“Yes, Sarge.” Jay answered. Hank left them sitting quietly as Brie tried to calm her nerves and her body as she was still feeling the fear from the memories causing her to rub at her face. He pulled her close to him under his arm feeling her shiver still. “Hey, I’m right here, Brielle. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Jay whispered to her. She put her head against his shoulder breathing deep before she turned to face him.

She yawned as her body began to relax from the fear. “I’m so sorry. I just feel so exhausted. I feel so drained, weak. Might be the medicine too. Dr. Choi said I might get sleepy from it.” She whispered leaning against him.

“Not surprised. Go ahead and lay down in here while you wait. I will be just outside the door at my desk if you need me, okay.” He said to her. She nodded and he helped her lay down on the couch in the room and left his jacket with her as she allowed her body to slip into calming sleep feeling safe.

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagines

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catflorist · 3 years

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The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 8: roots

"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"

"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.

"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.

Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.

"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"

Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."

The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.

"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."

"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.

Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."

When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.

"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.

Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.

"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"

Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.

"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.

"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.

The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.

Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.

For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.

Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.

A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.

Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.

One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.

Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.

As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.

First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.

Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.

Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.

One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.

Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.

Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.

In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.

Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.

"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."

Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."

"How do you know?"

"I know because you told me."

The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.

"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.

He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.

Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.

The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.

Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.

Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."

A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.

"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."

Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.

When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.

He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.

Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."

When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.

All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.

In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.

Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.

It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.

Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."

"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."

"One last trip, then."

Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.

Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."

Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.

Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.

The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.

"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"

"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."

To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.

"You know something. Don't you?"

"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."

He whispered it in Sakura's ear.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.

The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.

A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.

"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."

"You're not Sakura," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Who are you, then?"

"Sarada."

He remembered this name from a dream.

"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.

Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."

Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.

The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.

"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."

He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.

fin

–––––––––– this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want––and at the end the ocean will be waiting.

thank you to: ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku ––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story ––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write ––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?)

and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you! roya

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

james and julia

this is for u james anon :) also let’s hope the tags work this time lmao

___

“What’s up with the boys lately?” Julia asked Sophie after a stall in their conversation over ice cream. The six of them hung out occasionally, mainly when they went out, and Sophie loved the way they all fit together so seamlessly. She easily fit in with the boys and Rafe could hold his own hanging with the girls (probably thanks to his sisters), so it was no surprise that all of them together was always a fun time.

“Hmm. Nothing special, really...oh, James is getting back to dating. I did a complete overhaul of his Tinder the other day.” Sophie told her.

“Back to dating?” Julia cocked her head.

“Yeah, and his girlfriend broke up after three years a few months ago. Something about her not being able to handle long distance anymore, I don’t know. He took it pretty hard. Obviously.”

“Poor guy.” She commented, sitting back in her seat, thinking.

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and my idiot boyfriend suggested he needed to get over her by getting laid.”

Julia snorted. “Lovely.”

“Right? Anyways, James went on a date after like a month and I’m pretty sure he came home and was miserable for a straight week, so I’m glad he’s kind of moving on. I don’t think the guys ever really liked her, but you know how stubborn people can be about high school relationships.”

______

After that conversation, Julia swiped through her Tinder that night, more purposeful than ever. It didn’t take long for James’ profile to pop up, and they two matched right away. She sent him a teasing message - funny seeing you here - then immediately cringed at her choice of words. James replied with an equally teasing tone, and the two texted for a while that night - and two nights following.

The group all went out that weekend and there was an awkward tension between Julia and James, but Sophie couldn’t quite place why. Instead of being the class clowns of the group like normal, they were both unusually quiet, not really contributing to conversations. When Sophie leaned over to Rafe, whispering her observation, he furrowed his brow, not having noticed a single thing.

“I’m gonna go get another drink, anyone want something?” Julia asked at the end of the night, raising her empty cup. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” James stepped up, following her through the crowd to the bar. After they both ordered their drinks, standing shoulder-to-shoulder so they could fit in the tightly packed space, he broke the silence first. “So.”

“So.” Julia echoed, raising her eyebrows.

“Can I take you out?”

“That’s awfully forward of you.” She commented, smirking.

“Sorry, out of practice.” He offered a cheeky grin back. “Dinner tomorrow night? At that Mexican place on ninth, I’ll pick you up.”

“Sophie’s gonna kill me.”

“That’s not an answer.” James nudged her arm with his elbow playfully, sliding cash across the bar to pay for both their drinks. “And Rafe will probably kill me too, but hey, at least we’ll go down together.”

Julia hid her smile in her cup as she took a quick gulp, more for confidence than anything. “Or we could get out of here now. It’d probably take them a while to notice...”

“Now who’s being forward?” He smirked, then glanced over to where their friends were, blissfully unaware. “We’ll have to -”

“Go out the front, I know. Yours or mine?” She grinned, taking another long drink and willing herself not to shudder at the cheap vodka.

“Mine, I’m closer.” He knocked back the rest of his beer, then offered his hand. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Julia nodded, accepting his hand. “I still want that date though.”

He laughed as he leaned closer, making her shiver as his lips brushed against her ear. “You got it.”

Meanwhile, Rafe and Sophie were starting to get suspicious. “What do you think they’re so held up for?” She asked, pulling out her phone to text both of them separately. Rafe shrugged. “Friday night, we know it’s always packed here.”

“Ahh.” Sophie nodded in recognition, showing the group her phone with individual texts from each of them with a half-assed reply about meeting someone. Allie grinned. “You think it was that guy on Tinder she keeps texting?”

“Maybe. Wait, is this the first time -?”

“Hell yeah it is.” Rafe grinned, high-fiving Colin and Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, good for him, I guess. Hope it’s a nice girl.”

_____

The next night, both Julia and James were getting ready for their date at their respective houses. Julia had refused to spill any details, claiming ‘a lady doesn’t kiss and tell’ when Sophie begged for the story. Colin and Rafe had snagged a few cupcakes and spare gel icing from the house chef, eloquently writing Congarts on the Sex - misspelling and all - as a present for James. He had laughed and snapped a photo, but didn’t tell much, just that it was a fun night and she left right after.

“Skirt or the jeans?” Julia held up both options with her turtleneck sweater, glancing in her closet for shoe choices.

“Depends on what sweater you’re going to wear.” Sophie stood and started rifling through her closet, shaking her head as she pushed multiple hangers over.

“What do you mean! This sweater is fine!”

“Yeah, for church, not a date with someone who’s already seen you naked!” She retorted, pulling out a v-neck sweater instead and a sleek leather skirt. “You want this, with the white boots. Trust me.”

“You’re the worst.” Julia grumbled, but took the clothes and changed anyways. “Should I curl my hair?”

“Hm...no. Not worth the effort. Are you planning on hooking up with this mystery man again tonight, do I have to go to Rafe’s?” Sophie handed her a lipstick to match the outfit.

“Um - uh, probably not -” Julia stuttered, racking her brain for a solution. “You know, when was the last time you two went out?”

“We went out last night.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you nervous?”

“Going out with all of us doesn’t count. I meant on a date.” Julia took a breath, pleased with her distraction, and smoothed the color over her lips.

“Um...” Sophie trailed off, thinking. “A couple weeks, I guess, I’ve been busy. Where are you going, Rafe and I will go and stake out the date for you.” She grinned. “We’ll be subtle, I promise.”

“You and Rafe have like half an ounce of subtlety between you two, combined.” Julia snorted. “Make him take you to that new restaurant, the one that was in the student paper.”

Sophie thought it over for a moment, her smile faltering. “It’s kind of expensive.”

“Your ability to forget your boyfriend is rich is impressive.”

“Jules.”

“I’m serious! Plus he gets so excited when he can take you out, it’s kind of adorable.” She pressed. “It’s not like you’re doing anything else tonight.”

“Yeah, he kind of does.” Sophie agreed - Rafe loved spoiling her as often as possible, even though she was still getting used to it. “Can I at least get his name?”

Julia had prepared for this question, at least. “It’s Jack, and no, you don’t know him.”

“Ugh, a J name.” Sophie shuddered jokingly, shooting a text to Rafe.

“Yeah, his only downfall.” Julia laughed, albeit a little forced as she thought of the main reason the two of them were probably doomed.

___

Meanwhile, Rafe was hyping James up for his date, blasting rap music way too loud as he ironed his clothes for him. (“Because no one fucking appreciates a well-pressed pant around here,” Rafe had argued, snatching James’ wrinkled clothes out of his hands.) “You kind of did things backward with all this.”

James shrugged. “Guess so. It was her idea.”

“The date or hooking up?”

James grinned as he accepted his freshly ironed shirt from Rafe. “Hooking up.”

“You should be careful though, you know? I mean, you shouldn’t launch into all this so quickly, take it easy.” Rafe told him a little warily, just wanting the best for his friend.

“I know, I know, it’s casual.” James reassured him.

“So...are you gonna need the room? It’s kind of early for dinner.”

“Uh...I mean, I’m not sure...”

Rafe’s face lit up as he received a text from Sophie and he eagerly shot back a reply. “Never mind, looks like I have a date night tonight too. Where are you taking this girl? If you’re going to that new place, I’ll see you there.”

“No, just the Mexican restaurant on ninth. Not pulling out all the stops.” James laughed, shaking his head at Rafe’s sudden mood switch. “Sophie’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“I...yeah, probably.” He decided against a rebuttal. “But she’s finally letting me take her out on a nice date, for the first time in ages, so I’ll take it.”

“Didn’t you go to the art museum downtown a couple weeks ago?” James asked, grateful for the conversation topic changing.

“Yeah, and it turned out she had to go for one of her classes and do a few sketches. I swear she can’t go three seconds without being productive.” Rafe shook his head, though he smiled fondly as he talked about her.

“Fucking simp.”

“C’mon, you’re the romantic, you know it’s love.” Rafe grinned and James rolled his eyes as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. “I’m leaving, have fun.”

“You too! Text me if I have to go to Soph’s!” Rafe called after him.

_____

After Rafe and Sophie’s dinner, Rafe insisted on taking her to a swankier bar downtown by the restaurant instead of their normal college spot. When she paused, calculating in her head and reaching for her phone to check her budget app to see if she could swing expensive cocktails, he grabbed her purse and slung it over his shoulder. “On me, angel.”

“Everything has been on you lately.” She protested, holding her hand out expectantly for her purse.

“Good, so it’s how it should be.” Rafe shot her a grin and took her hand as they walked down the street. “You should have brought the navy purse instead, the black kind of clashes with my outfit.”

Sophie snorted, giving in. “Didn’t think you’d be wearing my accessories tonight, my bad.”

“Ah, but you should never assume.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, glancing in the window as they walked to the door - and did a double-take, spotting James. “Hold on, is that -”

She turned and followed his gaze, seeing Julia opposite James at a dimly-lit back table through the bar. “Holy shit.”

“Do you still want to go in?”

“Yes, we’re going to go interrogate -” She tugged on his hand, pulling him into the bar as Rafe leaned back. “Soph, maybe we shouldn’t -” He hissed, but she ignored him, walking right past the hostess’s stand.

“Ma’am, all our tables are reserved -” The hostess called toward Sophie, but Sophie turned on her heel and shot her a sweet smile. “That’s alright, we’re meeting friends.” She tugged her hand out of Rafe’s and strode over purposefully as he followed quickly behind. Once she made it to their table, she just stopped short of slamming her hands on it, both the drinks rattling a little.

James glanced up with nothing but fear in his eyes. “Oh, Sophie, nice to see you here -”

“What the hell is going on here?” She demanded, shooting glares at both James and Julia. James slunk back a little in his seat, while Julia just winced.

“Actually, yeah, I’d like to know too.” Rafe chimed in, sliding into the booth next to James as Sophie did the same.

“I told you they’re both off limits, James.” Sophie pointed an accusing finger at him. “Did you somehow forget my one rule? Literally just one?”

“To be fair, you don’t speak for me -” Julia started, only for Sophie to whirl on her. “You! You were being so sneaky when you normally spill every detail - I should not know how big every single dude you’ve hooked up with is -”

“Wait, you two hooked up? Julia’s the mystery girl?” Rafe made the connection a moment too late, then threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” James apologized quickly. “But if we’re pointing fingers, it was her idea -”

“James!” Julia sighed, shaking her head. “Oh my god, I knew this wouldn’t work.”

“You said we could keep it a secret!”

“Not from fucking Sherlock over here!” Julia snapped, jamming her thumb toward Sophie.

“Was it worth it?” Rafe interrupted the argument, stepping on Sophie’s toe gently to hopefully put out some of the flames in her eyes. She only kicked him in the shin in response.

Both James and Julia shared a glance, debating their answers. “Honestly?” She asked.

“Yes, honestly.” Rafe nodded, sending a warning look to Sophie to keep her quiet.

James hesitated, not wanting to hurt Julia’s feelings. “I mean, I think you’re really nice -”

“Yeah, and the sex wasn’t bad -”

“Oh my god, please don’t even start there.” Sophie mumbled, her face twisting at the thought of her friends together like that.

“And I think you’re pretty -” James started again.

“But there’s nothing there.” Julia finished for him, offering him a quick smile. “I think we’re perfectly fine as friends, but that’s it.”

James nodded in agreement, relieved she felt the same. “Yeah, exactly. No hard feelings.”

Sophie let out a slow exhale. “Alright. I mean. You’re sure? Because if there’s really something, I can, like, chill out. Probably.”

Rafe smirked. “I’d say your entrance here contradicts that.”

Julia laughed, breaking the tension. “I’m sure. We were just talking about his ex before you interrupted, so I don’t think anything’s going to happen.”

Rafe shoved James’ arm, shaking his head. “That’s the one topic I told you to avoid.”

“We actually were having a decent conversation, if you two don’t mind? The least I can do is get you another drink, Julia.” James laughed, pushing him back aimlessly.

“...Fine.” Sophie stood, shaking her head. “Just as friends, though.”

“Just as friends.” Julia promised, sending her a grateful smile.

As Rafe and Sophie left, he let out a loud laugh as soon as they exited the bar. “Jesus Christ, Sophie. James looked like he was about to piss himself, he was so scared.”

“Good! She’s off limits! I warned him!” She exclaimed.

“I know, it’s like incest.” Rafe shuddered and slung his arm around her shoulders, walking with her to find another bar. “But hey - you think Allie and Colin might be a good match?”

“Rafe Cameron.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

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ziee · 3 years

Text

Strangers to Lovers

You just finished your 13-hour shift at the hospital. You were sweaty and hot, your hair sticking to your forehead, clothing wrinkled from hours of use. You were in the midst of leaving, having grabbed your bag from the hangers when you noticed something square resting on one of the break room tables.

You walk towards it, realizing it was a phone before reaching for it. Pressing the home button, you instantly recognize the owner. The lock screen was a picture of Barbra Lake, your co-worker as well as your best friend in the office, and her son hugging.

You smiled at the photo before sighing. Oh Barbra. She was probably in a rush to get home for her son without even realizing she forgot her phone. You scoop it up and place it in your backpack. Guess your shower will have to wait a bit.

Driving to her house, you hum a tune in the car as you steer. Pulling up on the driveway, you step out of your car and walk up to the front door. Knocking, you heard voices yelling inside. Growing concerned, you knock a few more times before hearing more yelling before it settles.

You wait a few seconds before knocking again. You could hear footsteps walking towards the door, as a voice shouted "Blinky!" before the door opened. In front of you was a man. 6ft tall, wearing a blue button-up with a brown sweater and black pants, man. Was Barbra on a date.. Straight after work?

"Hello!" He said, smiling down at you. You snapped back in from zoning out, eyes shooting forward and up into his.

"Ah, hello." You smile, "Is Barbra home..?" You lean to the side to try and look inside but the man blocks your view. Just then, Jim comes running from behind the eccentric stranger.

"Y/n? Why are you here?" He asks as he pushes the other male away from the door.

"I'm looking for Barbra, she left her phone in the office before leaving today." You hold up the phone and wiggle it. The young boy sighs and places a hand on his forehead, muttering words.

"Oh mom.." Speak of the devil. The overworked doctor strolls into the front area, holding a small piece of paper before spotting you.

"Y/n?" Coming towards the door, Jim moves out of the way so you could step inside. You enter the house and smile at the doctor, holding her phone in your hand.

"You forgot something." Jim shuts the door behind you and stands next to the man as you and his mother chat. Handing her the phone, she thanks you and introduces you to the male known as 'Mr.Blink-heh', he corrects her. Giving her a quickly hushed whisper, your thoughts were denied about their relationship. Apparently, he was Jim's guidance counsler.

"A pleasure to meet you miss Y/n." Holding his hand out, he gives you a bright smile. Taking his hand in your own, you glance down only for a second, noticing the size difference between your two body parts. His large fingers wrap around your hand, grazing softly upon your skin as you shake. All too soon he lets go, your eyes darting back up towards his.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr.Blink-heh." Your hand dangles by your side, the warmth of his hand vanishing. His words left you flustered, intriguing you to learn more about him. So polite, so tall, so handsome. His stature screamed awkward, which you found adorable.

"You can call me Blinky." He whispered in your ear as the Lakes talked. You froze, not wanting to move as he speaks so close to you. Looking towards him, you nod with a smile, turning back quickly as you felt your cheeks growing red at such close interaction. You had felt his breath on your neck.

The Lakes turned back towards you and Blinky, eyes chimed with a glint of curiosity as they both eyed you and the man. You coughed. "Well, I should get home. I don't want to stink up your house." Cue laughter.

"It was nice having you over, even for a short while," Barbra says, standing by the shoe rack. "Thank you for the phone too, I don't know what I would have done." She chuckles. You do the same and nod, turning your body to face the door, eyes still on the women. Your hand moves to the knob, feeling you have a good idea of the placement before your hand encases something large and warm.

A body is out of the corner of your eyes, your head turns to the warmth. Your hand was around Blinky's, placed onto the golden knob. "Oh! Sorry!" You remove your hand, embarrassed.

"Allow me," His lips lift, twisting the knob to open the door for you. You stare at the gentleman who opened the door for you. Flushing furiously, you giggle in an awkward way, shifting your weight from feet to feet. You didn't want to leave.

"Ah, thank you." You go to walk out, into the warm air of the summer. You stop, turning around. "Can I- Urgh- Would you like to meet again? If you want..?" Damn your under-confidence. You sounded so stupid, of course, he wouldn't want to meet you again.

"Absolutely! That would be wonderful." Wait, what? "Allow me to place my digits into your mobile device."

"My mobi-? Oh! My phone? Yeah, yeah, just let me.." You quickly grabbed your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it for him. Giving him your phone, he does the same. You exchange numbers, your heart giddy at the rising excitement from this transaction. You've never really dated a lot, tried to in high school. No one took interest in you.

But, this man you only just met minutes prior, has done more things to you than anything that's gotten your heart racing in all your years. He handed back your phone, shakey hands grabbing from his large ones, to be placed once again into your back pocket. Your eyes trace him one last time before thanking him and running down the stone steps of the Lakes house.

Once you were in your car, driving mindlessly to your house, only was it then you realized your best friend and her son had watched you in your virgin daze. Fuckkkkkk- that is so embarrassing. You chuckled at the thought as your cheeks flushed.

Once you got home, you were in the midst of brushing your teeth when your phone dinged. Picking it up, it was a text from Blinky. Wow, he doesn't wait. Smiling as you read the text, you squeal once you've finished. "I would like to invite you to an outing next Saturday. I await your response."

You text back immediately, saying of course you'd go. The date- was it a date? Oh, you hope it's a date- was planned for 1 Pm. Meeting at the local cafe, you honestly couldn't wait 4 days. Giddy all night, it was a pain to wake up at 4 for your next shift. Teasing the next day from Barbra was foretold.

You got through the week even with you sitting at your closet for hours, deciding what to wear. Finally, today was the day you've been waiting for. A little 'too' excited for. You chose your clothes yesterday, after throwing at least your whole wardrobe on the floor in your decision-making.

Taking a shower, just to be extra clean. You wonder what he'll be wearing. What should you talk about? You hoped the conversation wouldn't be too awkward, especially on the first date. Oh, you hope you won't be too awkward, you were known to freeze up with attractive men. Thinking about his smile from 5 days ago, you blushed. What an attractive man indeed..

You finished your shower, skin red with steam and heat. Dressing in the chosen outfit, you glanced at your phone. No texts. Not to worry, Blinky was so not the type of guy to ditch. Or was he..? You decided not to worry too much, slipping on your shoes before heading off. The trip wasn't too far, you lived remotely close to it as Arcadia wasn't that big of a town.

Picking a spot outside, you ordered 2 glasses of water as you waited for the man of the hour. 5 minutes pass and you anxiously glance at your phone, your glass half empty. Your worries were soon put to rest as you saw Blinky run out from the corner.

"Ah, Blinky!" You smiled, watching as he tipped his head down.

"A thousand apologies for making you wait miss Y/n." He panted as he sat down, spotting the water before picking it up and chugging it.

"Please, just call me Y/n. Miss sounds a bit formal doesn't it?" You joke, laughing as he set the glass down.

"Perhaps, but it fits a lady like you." Your eyes widened before a blush settled into your cheeks. 2 sentences down and you're already red? Yeesh.

"So how have you been?" Scooting closer in your chair, you rest your hands on the table as you looked at him.

"Ah, excellent now in your company. The past few days have been quite busy.." You take a sip of water, hiding your smile.

"That's too bad. At least now you can relax a bit." You grabbed a menu and opened it, scanning the options. As you were scanning, you heard him grunt before he slapped a hand over his cheek. Looking over the sealed paper, you raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Nope! Just a mosquito." He didn't move his hand, which made you wonder even more, but you continued looking over the menu.

"Ooh! Look at number 5 on the menu, maybe we should share it?" You suggest. He groans once more, before hearing a clacking noise. You peer over the menu again, staring at him in worry.

"Are you ok?" You place the menu down, reaching a hand over the table.

"Marvelous!" He shouts, picking up the menu as he hides his face. What in the world..? As you grew concerned, your eyes widened at what was happening.

"Blinky, your skin- you're turning blue. I don't mean to alarm you but I think you're having a heart attack." He continues groaning before smoke appears from his face. "And.. Are you smoking?"

"A filthy habit, I really must admit." He laughs before standing up. "Excuse me, I have to use the facilities, I'll only be a moment." He takes the menu, covering his face, and runs into the restaurant. What just happened.

You shake your head. Ok, serious. He may actually be having a heart attack. You're a doctor, this is your job. You rush into the restaurant and near the men's bathroom as someone was yelling for a doctor. "I'll check on him." You say to the man, rushing inside the bathroom.

You move towards the only closed stall and knock. "Blinky, I'm a doctor I can help you. Please open up!" You knock again.

"I'm fine! Really, nothing to see here." A clicking shuffle. Alright, that's it.

"I'm coming in!" You yell, kicking the door. He screams and you can feel resistance on the door but you continue kicking before it opens. "Ah thank god, Blinky are you ok- AHHH!" You scream, looking at what's before you. A trollish creature with blue skin, 4 arms, and 6 eyes look down upon you.

He screams, 2 of his lower hands moving down to cover his groin as the upper ones cover his chest. "AHHH! What are you?!" You yell, backing up. He stops screaming as bends down to pick up a brown coat, much too small for him, and covers his waist.

"Y/n! I did not want you to see me like this.. But alas, it was bound to happen." His voice sounds familiar... And that coat!

"Blinky?!" You cautiously near closer, looking upwards at the frightened troll.

"Yes, that is me. I'm sorry for lying Y/n, honestly." His upper hands play with themselves, rubbing into the stone as he nervously looks at you.

"N-nevermind that. Do you- can you get out of here? We could go to my house and discuss all.. This," you gesture towards him, "I don't think a restaurant bathroom is a good spot for an explanation." He nodded, agreeing.

"I would, but I burn in daylight. If you could cover me with something... Aha! The table cloth should work." You nodded, scurrying towards the door.

"Uh, ok. Stay there!" You yell, rushing out the door and outside. You were wondering how you'd get past everyone in the restaurant, but you suppose you could just run. You grabbed the cloth, pulling it from the table before balling it up and running back towards the stall.

"Ok, I got it." You handed it to him as he awkwardly drapes it over himself. He exits the stall, stumbling a bit under the sheet, and tries to find your hand. You hold it from over the sheet, noticing the significate size difference of his real hand over yours. "I'm gonna lead you out and to my car. We'll have to run, so just trust me, alright?"

"Gasp! An automobile!" You smiled and pulled him out, running past the other guests as you hear the fast taps of stone feet behind you. You run outside, the breezy air rushing through your hair as you spot your car.

Stopping in front of it, you quickly unlock it and push the troll inside. "Ompf!" He adjusts himself inside as you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine, and backing up. "What a rush." He chuckles before looking around.

"I've never stolen anything before." You say, heart racing as you drive. "But that was fun!" You smile. He laughs and fiddles with the windows, head peeking out from the sheet. You got to your house fast, enhanced by your adrenaline and illegal speeding. You urshed the large white sheet inside the house as soon as you got the front door unlocked.

"Phew!" You pressed your back against the wooden door, wiping your forehead. Your eyes turn up to the still troll, stilling wearing the sheet, in the middle of your hallway. "You can take the sheet off Blinky." You laughed. It looked as if a failed attempt at a ghost costume.

"Ah, yes.." He slowly lifts it up, removing it from his body. Now, you can actually get a good look at the troll before you. He was so.. Large. Around 7ft, with 6 eyes that bore deeply into yours. You've never seen anything like him.

You pick yourself up and move towards the couch, gesturing him to follow. "Why don't we sit down and.. Talk. Oh- I can make some tea if you'd like? It would be just as we planned, but in a house!" You smiled, joking, and turned around.

His face bore a worried expression, brows furrowed and down. You grew concerned. "Blinky? Is something wrong?" His eyes meet yours as he shakes his head.

"Ah, yes- no. Well.. I did not intend to meet like this. I'm terribly sorry I lied about my true form, Y/n." He neared you until he was in front of you. Both sets of hands played with their fingers.

"Blinky.." You sat down onto the couch, pulling him down with you. You settled your legs under your knees, sinking into the plush as you turned to him. "Don't be sorry. I'm surprised, yes, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Just because you've changed physically doesn't mean I want to break things off. You're still the same Blinky I like." You smiled, placing a soft hand upon his arm.

He nodded, lips lifting into a curve. 6 eyes stared at your hand, for quite a few seconds before they shot to your face. "Y/n.. It may be a bit soon to share this but, over the few days we've known each other, the time you've blessed me with.." He stopped for a moment, figuring out the right words to say.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you understood what was so hard for him to spout. In all honestly, you felt the same. It was a little rushed, but everything felt so right with him. You instantly clicked, so you finished his sentence for him. "I like you too."

...

"Oh by Deya's grace, thank you." He grabbed your hand from his arm, holding it in his palm as you both smile. Both sitting content, holding hands in comfortable silence. You weren't sure what to say next, so you decided to lean in.

"Can I..?" You whisper, face nearing his.

"You may..?" He sounded confused as to what you were referring to, but as your lips touched his, he soon melted into your actions. You pushed yourself inwards, your hand resting upon his shoulder for balance as your other was still encased in his. He wrapped his lower hands around your waist, as you continued your slightly awkward first kiss.

His jaw was incredibly large, with tusks that could tear through you easily, yet he made an effort to press lightly into you. You never thought it would be this erotic, this one tiny kissed has turned your head inside out. Your thighs clenched as your hand clutched onto his shoulder, your hands fiddling with his overall strap.

Breaking away for air, you pant as you both stare into each other. "That was.." He's one word short again, so you finish his thoughts with the only word you could think of.

"Breathtaking." You breathe out with what little air he kept for you. His cheeks shone blue, making you wonder what was underneath his stone skin just for a moment before other matters called to you. You wanted more.

"Exactly." His lower hands pulled you further towards him if that was possible. You decided to reposition yourself so that you were in his lap, legs draped over his waist, touching the couch with your feet. You pulled your arms around his large neck and leaned in.

"Let's do it again." Words from your tone, needy and breathy, his actions immediately matching. Your lips touched once more, more serious. More.. Vicious. One of his upper hands places itself softly on the back of your head, tilting it away from his teeth as you press into him. Your hands softly melt into his skin, sliding up to his cheeks, caressing the foreign texture.

Suddenly feeling your weight shifting, gravity pulled you down as you were flipped onto your back, softly pressing into the couch. Hand on your hand all the way down, he broke the kiss momentarily as he changed you. Hovering over you, you suddenly felt very small. And you... Liked it?

His lips met yours once more, eagerly wanting more of you. A knee had been placed in between your legs, making your foot fall slightly off the sofa. You pant through the kiss, not getting enough air to your head from all this time spent making out. He broke away, giving you time to breathe.

"Now I see why you humans like that so much." He grinned as he leaned over you. His hand came up from your waist to touch your cheek, softly caressing as you blush.

"You're good, for a beginner." You stick your tongue out in a playful manner. He chuckled, moving back up and away from you. You softly pouted but settled yourself back onto your butt. Your eyes gaze away from him and towards your wooden stairs. "Why don't we," You look back towards him, his 6 eyes connecting with yours, "take this to my bedroom. You know, the bed is probably more comfortable than the couch." You wink.

He seems to get the hint, looking a bit flustered yet nodding at the same time. Picking yourself up, you excitedly run towards the stairs, fanning your heated face as you hear the creak of steps from his stone feet following closely behind.

You both get to the room, closing the door as he sits on the mattress. You decide to make the first move or 3rd. Sauntering over, you swing your legs over his hips, sitting into his lap. "Is this alright?" You whisper, your eyes slowly turning upwards to meet his. Dark red pierce your own. Almost as if in a trance, he nods slowly.

"Yes.. That's- You're alright." You softly swing your hips, circling in his lap.

"Just alright?" He's definitely felt you, 2 hands immediately clutching onto your hips.

"No!" He stampers, "You're exquisite. Just having you in my lap is an honor." Your cheeks flushed as you giggled, holding a hand up to your mouth.

"Well, that was quite a compliment. Your lap is rather comfy." You supposed it was due to his thick overalls. Sliding a hand up his stomach, you clutch onto his straps with both hands. Giving a soft tug, you lean up and into his face. Giving him a slow, soft kiss, you felt his hands rub into the fabric of your shirt.

"Blinky, I really want you. Like, a lot." You break away, your hold on his straps falling. "But I understand if you want to stop. We can take it slow, I won't be offended." Folding your hands in your own lap, you sat still and waited for an answer.

He looked down at you, raising a hand to cup your face. "Y/n," he softly smiled, "I would be more than happy to experience this with you." Your worries melted away. Taking his hand in your own, you leaned into his touch further.

"Then please, touch me." You knew it was a tad selfish of you to say that, but you were so in need. His.. Him.. He was definitely not making it easy not to be aroused. Everything about his new, or original form, was just so breathtaking. You wanted to learn more about him, in every day, but first, you have to deal with the issue between your legs.

You directed him to undress you, first pulling off your shirt, and with a little help from you, your bra. Next was your pants, you shimmied them off a bit uncomfortably but that, and your underwear, were long gone. Now, you sat naked in the lap of your lover.

"Now.. Touch my boobs. Like, rub the nipple, twist, or, lick." You wink at the last part as you arch your back towards him. He understands and moves his upper hands to your chest, his lower holding the bottom of your back and around your waist. You smile as his large hands wrap around your molds, heated stone giving you a very nice feeling.

He was a fast learner, twisting your nipples with a soft force. He began twisting, pulling. Your thighs clenched as he leaned down, head towards your chest. Moving his hand, he takes your right nipple into his mouth. You pant softly as your skin is encased in heat. A wet muscle hit your tit, swirling around it. You gasped, a shock of arousal hitting you. So he does have a tongue.

Taking his time with you, he switches over to the other one once he's thoroughly coated your tit with his saliva. "Ah, you're so soft." He moves his head over, rubbing the skin around your waist to enhance his comment. You chuckle, raising your hands up to his head, softly combing through azure hair before finding long ears.

"And you're very good with your tongue.." You think whilst rubbing his stone ears. "Wonder what else you could do with it." He moves his head up from your chest, stopping in front of you.

"Teach me." And so you did. Flipping positions, you now lay on your back as he leans over you. He shuffles back so his head is in front of your loosely closed legs. Setting his upper hands on your inner thighs, he slowly judges them apart.

You lean up, crunched at your stomach as you explain to him your parts. "Now, this is the clitoris, it's just for stimulating pleasure. You can use your fingers or mouth. And down here," You point to your entrance, "is the grand finale.." You thought for a second. "Do you have.. The part?" Looking between your pelvis and his eyes, he seemed to get the hint.

"Yes, I do have the male organ." He laughed, "Most trolls have both of the 'sets' as you call them, female and male."

"Wow.." You lean back down. Feeling him come closer, you twitch as you feel his nose pressed against you. It moved higher up, and you gasped as you felt his mouth open, tongue sliding from between his teeth to touch you. Shivering as he slid the muscle up and down, it covered the entirety of you. You didn't realize until now how big his tongue actually was.

Feeling him start focusing on your clit, you shivered and twitched as you were pleasured. Hands felt around your waist, as well as your legs. He groped and rubbed at your skin, almost as if petting you.

You felt your core tighten, your thighs already starting to clench. He was just too good. Such a fast learner. Your hands threw themselves down, searching for anything to grab onto. Fingertips felt hard, pointed stone. You looked down at found you were holding onto his horns. He hadn't made any complaint, so you let them be.

You burned, so close. So close! The grip on his horns tightened as you started bucking wildly into his mouth. He held on and allowed you so, riding out your orgasm as you cry out. "Oh god!" As you finished, you leaned back into the mattress and released his horns. Your thighs twitched in his hold. He leaned up, looking pleased with himself seeing you worn out.

"I'm glad I was acceptable." He spoke softly, rubbing into your thighs as you pant.

"That was- You were amazing." You smiled, looking up at him. "Why don't you take off your overalls?"

He did so quickly, snapping the hooks off and placing the cloth on the ground. There, both of you sat on the bed, naked. Sitting on your butt in front of him, you rubbed up from his belly to his chest. "So, all I see is stone. How do we make you, y'know." It felt a little embarrassing to be this needy, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, you need to coax me open." He leaned onto his back and spread his legs. You nodded and shimmied over to him. Feeling a little unsure, you move your hand to stroke his pelvis. He shivered. You'll take that as a good sign. Softly stroking up and down, it was only moments later until plates moved, revealing..

3 Tentacles. A shocked expression pierced your face as you stared at the wriggling pieces of muscle. "Those are my primary sex, the larger one is the functioning one. The smaller ones serve as stimulation adders." Well, this, is, new. And,

You like it.

Your hand lifted, nearing the appendages as they swing towards you. He twitched as you touched the slippery phalluses. Softly stroking, you grinned as he let out a soft moan. Pounding. You were so ready. Removing your hand, you lifted yourself and sat upon his stomach. Tentacles wriggled against your butt, searching for an entrance.

You placed your hand on his chest and lean down. Taking his lips between yours, you share a soft and tender kiss. He snaked his hands around you, pressing into your waist and chest. You break away and lick your lips, shifting backward before leaning up.

You situate yourself above the larger one, slowly coming down. You wince as he enters you, the tentacle feeling larger than it looks. He supports your weight as you come down, holding you in the air as he stretches into you.

Finally, you're sat on his stomach, feeling his muscle exploring your walls. "You're.. Really big.." You pant, adjusting to his size as you hold onto a hand wrapped around your waist.

"You feel amazing.." His smaller tentacles swirl around your inner thighs, coating your skin with unknown juices. You decide to try and move. Coming up from his belly, you sink down a little faster than before. You're pretty sure he hit further inside you as you hear him groan loudly.

You feel no more pain, so you try again. And it feels delightful. Oh, he fits perfectly inside you. Encased in your walls for no more than seconds, sliding himself in and out does wonder for the old troll.

You start to lean on his chest, your thighs burn as you slide him in and out. "So good.." You moan out. You guess you started getting sloppy, so he grips your waist as pumps into you hard. You gasp, him hitting inside you so fast felt like something otherworldly, and you guessed it probably applied here.

You clutched onto him as he lifted his hips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Neither speaks, too consumed with pleasure. You felt your orgasm coming, it was so close. Just a little more.. He hits a spot, and you come. Crying out, it's so powerful tears weld in your eyes. You try and breathe but he keeps pounding into you.

Smaller phalluses saunter upwards, reaching in between your folds. They circle your clit, and you shudder from over-stimulation. He makes somewhat of a honking noise, and you feel a warm sensation engulf you. Softly bucking, he slows down until he's completely done. Knees falling, you both lie in silence and exhaustion. His tentacles fall flaccid.

You lift your hips and feel him slide out, as well as drips of white liquid. You puff out air, not caring to clean up just yet. Hearing a soft click, you realize his sex has been put away, giving you space to fully lay on him.

Caressing his hands over your waist, you lean up and give him a small peck on his cheek. He smiles down at you with an award-winning smile. "We can definitely make this work."

#Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #blinky #blinkous #blinkyxreader #blinkousxreader #blinkous galadrigal

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exosmutfactory · 4 years

Text

Six Phases 005 Pt 2

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut ]

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Orginally posted by sefuns

I'm starting to wonder when that talk will happen—if ever. It's been two weeks of us in the same dynamic as the start of our relationship. If I had known we would resort back to this point all those months ago, I would have left that night of our first kiss and never looked back. (Says this with my full chest as if my heart would allow such a thing. I'd just continue sitting and staring up at the ceiling with disappointment squeezing the mess out of my poor muscle).

A buzz pulls me from my miserable thoughts, turning my attention to my phone dangerously close to falling off the side of my bed. I catch it just before it tips over the edge.

I'm outside

1:30pm

Puffing my cheeks while sending a reply, I stand up from my pile of blankets. Temporary safe haven left for my return in a few days.

Smoothing out the fabric of my blue jeans, I move to slip into my simple black and white converses; making sure my phone and charger are safely tucked into my silver purse. Taking one last look around the room still containing Jenny's messy array of clothes on her bed, my lips quirk up into a quick smile. Some things never change.

Choosing to go down the stairs today, I make sure the door is locked behind me; shoving my hands into the pockets of my dark gray hoodie with quick strides. The hallways are packed with students preparing to leave for the long weekend as well. A few barely familiar faces waving me farewell.

I slip through the door someone carelessly walked out of moments before, not even to look back to check if anyone else was coming out in their haste. I’ve hit my face a couple of times from instances like these. Never again.

Shaking my head, I pick up my pace at the sight of a familiar shiny black Audi parked out in front. The visual of Baekhyun's form clad in a black t-shirt, white hoodie, and an off-white coat leaning against the expensive car is nearly enough for my heart to stop. And the smile he sends my way could melt me into a puddle all together. "Hey." His voice is tentative like the hand that gently tucks hair behind my ear.

"Hi," My voice is barely above a whisper as he moves to open the passenger door, the way his brown eyes watch me has my own shyly lowering to his ripped blue jeans; carefully maneuvering around his brand new multicolored gray shoes to step into the car. I take a peek at him walking around to climb inside as well; smiling at his little shiver when he opens the door in wake of a chilly breeze.

"You're not bringing anything?" He inquires once he’s settled in the driver's seat, looking over at me while the engine purrs to life.

I simply shake my head, observing how the colorful trees pass by the window, turned into an array of different hues in the wake of the best season there is; Fall. It may only be the beginning of September, but the signs are all there. Late sunrises, chillier nights, and the scattering of fallen leaves across the ground. The season of pleasant walks without the hinder of bees, sneezing fits from pollen, or the unmerciful heat of the sun.

We barely say a word as the rest of the world flies by, but there is less tension in the car. I hesitate a bit before reaching for the stereo, pausing when Baekhyun beats me there; turning the radio to our favorite station with a knowing smile.

It's about a 3-hour commute from campus to my home. Tall innovative buildings gradually morphing into more humble structures; brick walls versus floor to ceiling windows.

I direct Baekhyun down a few back roads that his GPS struggles to navigate, taking pleasure in how his eyes widen the moment we pull up to the house. "Whoa…"

Rose bushes I helped my grandmother plant are still in full bloom out front in the spacious yard; ruby reds and pretty pinks basking in the unshy sunlight beaming from above. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass greets my nose the moment I step out of the car, glancing back at Baekhyun when he goes to retrieve his duffle bag from the backseat.

"Baby!"

Spinning back on my heel, I open my arms on instinct, receiving a tight hug from a fast moving small person with a quiet ‘oof!’ "Hi Mom." I mumble through my restricted breath, her short hair tickling my chin.

She pulls back a bit in realization, grinning sheepishly up at me before her brown eyes flicker somewhere behind me, hardening into that classic protective mother bear look. "You sure haven't been calling much this week."

"I was busy," I try to justify, a slight whine in my voice that seems to startle Baekhyun. The loud thud of what I assume is his head hitting the roof of the car makes us both turn to him. He's gingerly rubbing the back of his head, the expression of a kid being caught doing something they shouldn't on his reddening face.

"Busy, huh?" Her eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Yep! I had a few assignments to finish up in advance," I chirp; mindful to keep the nervousness out of my voice, easing her up a little as Baekhyun carefully makes his way over to us. My hand comfortably slips into his despite the swarm of butterflies in my stomach under her watchful stare. "Mom, this is Baekhyun." Peeking over at him, I look back to her, motherly instinct still visible in her eyes. "Baekhyun, this is my mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Parker," His tone is similar to the one he uses when greeting associates; calm, respectful, and observant of her fiercely yet wary mannerisms while sliding the duffle strap further up his shoulder before holding out his hand to her.

She squints down at his hand, meets his eye, and grips his hand for a firm handshake; pops of his bones being squeezed audible to all our ears. "Mr. Byun." After one last look to size him up, she swiftly turns away.

"Did I ever mention she's ex-military?" I whisper in his ear as she walks back up the short driveway leading to the house.

"No," He replies just as quietly with wide eyes, slowly flexing his fingers.

"Well then! Let's go," Holding his hand more firmly in mine, I venture after my mom, quick to catch the door before it closes behind her. "There's someone else you should meet."

"Your dad?" He inquires stepping over the threshold.

"Shoes go over there," I point to a rack stationed next to the large carpet that we keep in front of the door, slightly shaking my head. "No, men rarely enter this house."

His lips part along with the furrow in his brows, question at the tip of his tongue, "Wha-"

"Honey bear!" I turn just in time to be wrapped up in another tight hug, resting my free hand on their back. "Hi Grandma," My voice comes out muffled in her shoulder, the comforting scent of lavender and her shoulder-length salt & pepper hair tickling my nose.

She pulls back to look me over with a warm smile, sending the same sentiment Baekhyun's way before taking my other hand. "Come on, I'll whip up something for lunch."

Baekhyun's eyes light up a bit at the prospect, his shoulders losing tension as he neatly sets down his duffle bag on the couch, letting her lead us further into the house. A few family pictures on the wall catches his eye along the way. I gently cup his chin to distract him from the more embarrassing ones, why the hell is there a photo of me completely destroying my dinner in my high chair on the front wall!?!

"Grandma," I start the second we step into the kitchen, placing my hand on my hip, "What happened to the cream curtains?"

"In the closet," She lifts up the blinds of the blue-curtained window above the sink, making her way over to the refrigerator. "I forgot. We can put them back up later, have a seat."

Taking my designated seat at—arguably—the tail end of the rectangular table, I shoot a smile over at Baek settling into the seat to my right, sliding my hand back into his under the privacy of the autumn-themed tablecloth.

The distinct smell of chicken and relish reaches my nose, dragging my attention away from admiring the warmth of his brown orbs. "Grandma? Are you making chicken salad?"

Her reassuring hum makes me squeal a little, my gaze shifts back to Baekhyun when he lightly squeezes my hand, shooting me a fond smile. "Chicken salad?" He inquires, sparkly eyes full of curiosity.

I nod, softly playing with his fingers, "It's canned chicken, relish, and mayo."

His brow lifts a little, "I thought you hated mayonnaise?"

"I do," I mumble, sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek when no one is looking, feeling my heart leap a bit at the unexpected act of affection. "It tastes better than it sounds, trust me."

His cheeks redden, and even more so when mom's voice rings out in the quiet room.

"Kissing in the kitchen now, huh?"

"Mom," I weakly protest, hiding my red face behind my hand as Baekhyun directs his gaze to the tabletop. She swiftly enters the room with a teabag in hand, opening the fridge while Grandma stands by the countertop, mixing all the ingredients together.

"Perfectly fine," Mom comments, coming back out of the fridge with a small glass container in her other hand, walking over to our side of the table while cheekily adding, "Not in front of the food though."

"Kimberly," Grandma chastises, making her way over as well. Mom just sets down the dish with a playful smile, "I peeled you a few carrots when I heard you were coming."

"Really?" I perk up, receiving and thanking them for the food while Baekhyun shyly gives his gratitude as well; I can't help smiling at the bashful expression playing at his handsome features, looking totally out of his element. Who knew he'd be this reserved? It's cute.

"Here," I quickly retrieve a packet of crackers from the shelf stationed against the wall behind me, opening them up as Baekhyun looks over the food curiously. "We usually eat it with bread or crackers," I pause, taking a good look at him then, "Do you want bread instead?"

He lightly shakes his head, the motion causes his long hair to dangle into his eyes, creating an even more adorably shy expression on his cute face. It's hard containing my fond smile while giving him some crackers and scooping chicken salad on his plate. "We ate this often back in the US," I murmur, handing him the spoon before grabbing another. "Chicken salad. Sometimes with soup."

"She'd toast her bread," Grandma sits across from Baekhyun, digging into her own small portion of tuna salad; the potent smell of onions filling the air.

"And drown it with mustard," Mom mutters, phone in one hand and steaming cup of ginger tea in the other. "She puts that shit on everything, I swear."

"Hey!" I shoot them both a mock look of betrayal as she takes the remaining seat, setting her phone neatly on the table. "Why must you two gang up on me?"

"Gotta make sure he knows what he's getting himself into," She mumbles, sipping her tea, turning to face Baekhyun then. "Does she still leave leftovers if it's more than a sandwich?" She inquires, eyeing him evenly. "And her eyes sparkle at the mention of ice cream?"

"Ah, well…" He falters, eyes briefly flickering to the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on his face. A little smile forming on his lips before looking her way again. "Actually, yes." He utters softly, sparkly orbs peeking over at me.

I start taking a bite out of my meal with my hand blocking them from view, pretending as if they—and myself—are not here.

"Still got the appetite of a little kid." Grandma chuckles, glancing over at me while spooning tuna on her bread. "How is Sehun doing, sweetie?"

The shy feeling in my chest eases away. Perking up at the change of topic, I chirp, "Great! His gym is going well, and he just moved in with his lover into a new apartment.~"

"Really?" Her smile is visible even from her blue eyes alone, aged hand brushing away wild strands of salt and pepper hair from her forehead. "That's good, I'm glad."

Mom makes a noise over her cup of tea, arching a brow as she utters lowly, "Y'all not thinking of moving in together are you-"

"Mom!" I shake my head, waving my hands around. "No, no. We're not at that point-"

"We're not?" Baekhyun mumbles, a petulant tone to his quiet voice.

We all fall silent at that, wordlessly looking at him. My blush dying down in an instant.

"Ah, Kim," Grandma pushes away from the table, sandwich clutched in hand. "I need help with that thing I told you about earlier."

"Thing?" Mom's brows furrow, pure confusion on her face, "What thing-"

"The thing," Grandma emphasizes, urging her to stand, already leading the way out of the kitchen. "Let's leave the lovebirds to their meal, they must be tired from their journey." She throws her arm over Mom's shoulder as she continues to grumble in confusion, glancing back at us with knowing blue eyes as they turn the corner and flashing a wink.

I relax back in my chair, sinking down a little with a shaky sigh. Heart jumping at the fingertips tentatively searching for my hand.

"You good?" Baekhyun murmurs, warm breath caressing my cheek.

"Yeah," My eyes lazily drift back over to him. The dazed look in his eyes makes me straighten up, "I should be asking you that. You okay?"

He hums, dabbing his lips with a napkin. Crescent moon eye-smile giving away the hidden curl of his lips. "I'm a little surprised, is all." He murmurs.

"Really?" My eyes widen, heart-squeezing uncomfortably in my chest. "W-Why?"

"You," Baekhyun mutters, setting down the napkin. Slender index finger smoothing out the furrow between my brows, "You're a spitting image of your mom and a carbon copy of your grandma..." He tilts his head, brown orbs twinkling thoughtfully; a little smirk forming on his lips, "With a dash of rebel spirit."

"Yah," I complain, batting his hand away from pinching my cheek. He isn't wrong though, I only let my mom boss me around. And even then, I always find loopholes within the rules she sets out for me. Thanks, Grandma. But it's hard playing the role of a good daughter with him around. Do I behave like the person he knows or the one he hasn't seen? This weekend will be full of testing the waters, it seems...

Baekhyun just chuckles, going back to his meal.

"Do you wanna go somewhere?" I mumble after a few minutes, holding a cracker topped high with salad and carefully cupping it with my other hand while stuffing it in my mouth.

Baekhyun hums, brown eyes shifting from the last few bites on his plate to focus on me. "Where do you wanna go?" His words come out muffled, cheeks adorably stuffed with food.

"There's this nice park in town," Neatly tucking our leftover crackers into a sandwich bag to keep them fresh for later, I add, "It has biking trails, a playground, and a mini water park-"

"Your stomach hurts if you walk too much after eating," Baekhyun raises a brow, swallowing the rest of his food. "And you hate getting your hair wet."

"I know!" It's hard containing my smile. I'm flattered that he remembered such trivial things. I rest my head on his shoulder and hug his arm, looking up into his sparkly brown eyes. "We could go swing for awhile?~"

Baekhyun looks me over for a long moment, lips quirking up as he reaches to dab the corner of my lips with a napkin as well. "Okay," He mumbles, adding fondly. "Only for you."

I bite my lip to fight back another smile, stacking our empty plates and taking his hand. Gently setting them in the sink before leading him deeper into the house. "Mom? Grandma?"

"In here, honey."

Following the sound of Grandma's voice, I rest my free hand on the open door frame, peeking into her bedroom. Finding mom clicking around her old computer while she stands by the open window. "I'm gonna show Baekhyun around at the park, we'll be back for dinner."

"Okay, baby," Mom mumbles, brows furrowed in concentration. Grandma shoos us away with a little smile.

Smiling their way, I glance at Baekhyun, squeezing his hand before walking back out into the living room. We retrieve our shoes from the rack, slipping into them again. His quiet chuckles filling the room while steadying my wobbling body before I fall over; cursing gravity while struggling to pull on my right converse.

A few neighbors are out in their yards as we make our way to the car, some men that go to the same college I do. The sight of them and their cat-calls has me flinching, quickly hiding behind Baekhyun. Peeking with an embarrassed expression over his shoulder as he glares at them. I swear I've seen them at Jongdae's party… My face bursts into flames, even more so at the way Baekhyun gives me the side-eye as if he has a good idea of why they are like this as well.

I meekly climb into the Audi, gently closing the door behind me as Baekhyun starts the engine. Throwing his arm over the back of my seat while backing out of the driveway in an unfairly attractive manner. His brown eyes flicker over to me with a blank expression on his face. I just sink down as far as possible in my seat.

The ride to the park is dead silent, not even the radio is on to defuse the stifling tension in the air. I fight the urge to keep taking glances over at Baekhyun. His tight grip on the steering wheel is enough of an indication of the current mood he is in. What has him mad now? I don't know how much more of this I can take…

We finally arrive at the park, I slip out of the car the moment he pulls into a parking space. Not even waiting for him before venturing down a familiar walking trail. The sounds of his shoes hitting the pavement has me quickening my pace. Adrenaline fueling me forward.

"Riley!"

Nope nope nope. The last few weeks bombard me all at once, causing a lump to form in my throat along with the tight squeeze in my chest. I crouch down under the weight of my unrelenting thoughts, wrapping my arms around my knees. Why did I let him come home with me? How do I face them now when we are like this? One look at my face and they'll know everything.

"How do I know you were with her?"

The bitterness in his voice perfectly matched the cold of his dull eyes. The bite of his menace full words.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

My heart practically shatters, feeling pressure behind my stinging eyes. Will we always be like this? Are we just going to continue down this road of destruction until… until—

"Riley."

I flinch away from the hand resting on my shoulder, head snapping up to see him through blurry eyes. The concern written all over his face nearly enough to send me to tears.

"I told you not to push yourself," He mumbles, thumb gently swiping beneath my eye. Brown orbs a complete 360 from what they were earlier. "Come on," He urges, crouching down to my level, looking all over my person. "Let's go sit down. You wanted to swing, hmm? I'll push you."

I slowly nod, my stress ebbing away as he wraps his comforting arms around me, carefully pulling me up to stand. His distinct scent makes me soften further within his hold; my gaze focused on our respect shoes as he leads me toward the playground with his arm over my shoulders.

"No one is here today?" I look up at his question, briefly taking in the confusion on his face before sweeping my eyes over the vacant area. "Strange," My response is simple, hands shoved deep in the front pocket of my hoodie.

Baekhyun glances down at me, brushing his thumb over my jaw. "Pick which one you want, love."

Wordlessly moving away from the warmth of his embrace, I plop down into the swing I always go to when no one else is using it. The leather seat is visibly higher up from the ground than its twin, a fresh patch of lighter shaded dirt underneath. Less strain for me later when I try to stop myself instead of having to stretch my legs towards the dug-up ground. And white sneakers be damned, I need this.

The scent of vanilla tickles my nose, Baekhyun's lean form in my peripheral vision as I tighten my grip on the metal handles. Butterflies fluttering in my stomach while he pulls me back, my feet lifting off of the ground.

He gives me the lightest push forward, and I scoff, shooting him a glare. "You can do better than that, Byun."

His lips twitch, a mischievous glint in his eye while I'm swinging back towards him, tucking my legs to make sure my shoes won't dirty his jeans. His next push has significantly more strength behind it. I squeak at the croak of the old chains, laughing loud as I launch myself along with the motion; soaring towards the sky. There's nothing quite freeing like the weightless feeling that comes with swinging. Aiming higher and higher until the chains drop heavily under my weight on the way down. Nothing to worry about except the wind in your hair and falling out at a scary height.

"This is so fun!" I yell, beaming with bounds of delightful adrenaline; glancing over my shoulder at Baekhyun. My smile dims when he isn't there.

"Baek?.." I slow down to a stop, burying my converses in the dirt. Twisting around in my seat for any sign of the silver-haired man, a sense of panic steadily rising in my chest. Where did he go? He… didn't leave or anything, right? It's getting a bit harder to breathe.

"Baekhyun? Baek-" I yelp at the sudden tug on my swing, looking up at the man in front of me with wide eyes.

Baekhyun holds the eye contact with dark brown orbs, slowly pulling me closer until our foreheads touch, his breathing steady compared to my slightly labored one. He looks so eternal against the backdrop of the sun beginning to set. Stunning pink, purple, and orange hues framing around his heart-stopping features like the most beautiful portrait, painting him in a hypnotizing glow. The way his eyes constantly flicker down to my mouth makes me gulp, my face heating up against the cool fall air.

Baekhyun licks his lips, meeting my eyes before leaning in. I release a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut at the brush of his soft pillows to mine, grip tightening on the old sturdy chains of the swing.

The kiss starts out soft, his lips tentatively moving with mine, but then the mood shifts. His hands grabbing my hips and my own tugging on his silver hair, our tongues battling for dominance in a knee-weakening dance. The loud clearing of someone's throat breaks us from our spell.

Baekhyun remains unphased, shamelessly taking his time to pull away with a wet smack of lips. "I think we have an audience, love." He chuckles, licking his bottom lip in a way that has my insides quivering. I avert my gaze from the stranger's heated glare, focusing on our dirty shoes instead.

Baekhyun tucks his finger under my chin, bright orbs twinkling in amusement. "Let's go?" He mumbles, raising a brow, holding his hand out to me.

I nod quietly, still a bit breathless as he helps me out of the swing, my shaky knees buckling under me. Baekhyun's hands rest with familiarity on my waist, holding me up as I struggle to get my legs working properly again. His naturally addictive scent and alluring eyes don't help my current situation at all. Do I ever get a break from falling for this man? Literally!?

"Let's get you home before your mother skins me alive," He murmurs humoredly, his brown eyes alight, leading our way back to the car.

The smell of fried fish greets us at the threshold of the door. I perk up at the sound of boiling hot cooking oil, hastily slipping out of my shoes. Leaving Baekhyun to neatly place them back on the rack while running to the kitchen. "Grandma, you didn't!~"

"Grab a plate." She chuckles, setting a fresh batch of fish in a serving tray. The sight of fries and home-made onion rings making my eyes widen in glee. I skip over to the sink to wash my hands, quickly getting two plates from the high cabinets and heading to the stove to grab the desired pieces of fish. Setting a few of the biggest ones on Baekhyun's blue striped dish.

He joins us at the stove with washed hands just as I'm biting into an onion ring, pressing a kiss to my temple with a little hum. "Careful, baby!" He exclaims as I fan my burnt mouth, catching the ring in his palm before it can fall to the floor.

"Same little Riley," Mom shakes her head, handing me a cold glass of water with a pacifying hug.

"I'm not little!" My words come out weird around my throbbing tongue, wildly gesturing between our height difference as Baekhyun chuckles, taking our plates to the table. Grandma shortly joins in on the embrace, "Hush and go eat your food."

"That's what got me into this predicament in the first place," I grumble, wiggling away after a few moments.

We all take our seats, respective plates containing appetizing food. No one cooks Southern delicacy quite like Grandma. I swear, give her fresh meat or cans of anything and she can create a masterpiece. My mouth is salivating just at the thought of the perfectly seasoned meal in front of me. Baekhyun's knowing look keeps me from taking a bite of the steaming fry held carefully between my nails. Right, a repeat of a few minutes ago isn't the wisest idea. I set it back on my plate with a pout.

"Ooh~ she went for the onion rings again." Mom teases, drawing everyone's attention to me reaching for the ketchup bottle. "Expect to get a few mouthfuls of seconds," She continues, amused eyes drifting over to Baekhyun.

"Here," Grandma breaks off a few paper towels, handing them to me. I take them shyly, carefully breaking my pieces of fish in half, "Picky little eater. She gets it from her mom." She gestures to the other end of the table, Mom pausing mid-break of her fish.

"I like to know what I'm eating," She justifies, munching on a fry, "Can you hand me the mustard, baby?"

"Mmhm!" I stretch with the yellow bottle across the table, starting to stand up to walk around to her side instead when Baekhyun gently takes it from my hand, politely giving it to her.

Conversation flows easily after that. Both of them taking turns asking Baekhyun questions regarding his work and home life. I watch them carefully, swiftly steering the conversation away from a handful of embarrassing childhood memories. No way in hell I'm letting him hear any of that. My gaze shoots down to my plate, the last little half of my fish makes me wince at the thought of eating anything more. Realizing this, I shyly tug on Baekhyun's shirt, trying to inconspicuously get his attention, "Baekhyun…"

"Hmm?" His cheeks are puffed up with the last of his food, the attentive look in his eyes makes me bashfully lower mine.

"Do you want the rest of my food?" I meekly utter, worrying my bottom lip.

He chews a few times, swallows the food in his mouth, and dabs at his lips with a napkin before leaning to kiss my forehead, flashing a reassuring smile at me. "Yes, baby."

"Do you know she's afraid of the dark?" Mom sips her drink, grinning knowingly my way. Oh no.

Baekhyun hums thoughtfully, shaking his head. "No, she never mentions when she stays-" My muffled squeal draws his eyes back to me, innocent orbs widening, "Over."

Mom faces me then, "Do you need-"

"I'm sleeping with the lights on, yes," I interject, not missing a beat. A few decent nights of rest is needed before my first day of work on Monday. The thought alone makes me shiver. Why do I have to do this adulting shit again?

"See?" She complains, a whine to her loud voice. "I can't get her to sleep with them off for the life of me!"

"Scary stuff happens in the dark! You've said it yourself!" I rebuke just as dramatically, hands firmly planted on the table. Grandma and Baekhyun just laugh watching us.

"Lights out and sharing leftovers…" She mutters, idly swirling the contents in her glass, a little smirk hinting at whatever flustering thing she will say next. "When's the wedding?"

I seek an escape within my folded arms on the table, hanging my head in mock defeat as harmless laughter echoes around the room.

///

I insist on helping them with the dishes after dinner, Baekhyun being shooed out the room by Grandma and fixed with a stern stare from Mom. He goes on to take a shower while sheepishly ruffling his hair.

"So..." Mom gives me the side-eye, hands deep in soapy water. "You've been dating this man for a year and haven't made a peep about him-"

"Half a year!" I clarify, mindful of her disapproving tone while wiping at the damp plate with a brown square pattern dish towel in my hands. Listening carefully to make sure the shower down the hall is still running before lowering my voice. "Plus I wanted to make sure he was worth mentioning, Ma," I whine, shrinking back at the stern look she gives me. "Or bringing home…"

"Well, he seems like a nice young man," Grandma inputs, neatly setting dried plates up in the cabinets.

"Sure..." Mom mutters, handing me a glass, going back to washing the dishes. I send Grandma a grateful look over her shoulder, she just winks at me.

"Riley?" Baekhyun's gentle voice breaks through the quiet atmosphere of swaying water and silverware clinking together. I glance over my shoulder, turning fully at the sight of his hair dripping non-stop onto his black t-shirt. "Baek, what have I told you about drying your hair?" I tsk, walking over with quick strides. Pulling the towel hanging around his neck and reaching up to gently dry his silver locks. "It's not good for your health or your dyed hair." I can't help but grumble, carefully detangling the delicate strands. "Are you tryna get sick or go bald?"

"No..." He mumbles, head tilted down as I smooth out his hair.

"What am I gonna do with you…" I sigh, resting my hands on his shoulders, taking in the sheepish expression on his face. My weak heart softens, "Will you be alright out here for the night?"

He nods, putting the towel back around his shoulders, "It's not my first time sleeping on an air mattress."

My lips quirk up a little, sending him an apologetic look. An all-women house means all women rules—no men are allowed in our rooms in the rare instance they stay over. For good reason too, I'd throw a fit if either Mom or Grandma pulled that shit—keep your relationship business out of my earshot!!! For fuck sake.

I follow Baekhyun over to the mattress in the middle of the living room floor, stacked high with some of my own pillows. (The watchful stare I received from mom while tugging them out of my room… Worth it). And a thick comforter. It's that odd time of year where it's late to turn off the air conditioner yet too soon to switch on the heat. Subjecting us to many cold nights and hot mornings.

"You can kiss, we won't look," Mom's teasing tone floats from the kitchen doorway, Grandma not too far behind. The noise of protest I squeak out is too high pitched for my own ears, nearly jumping off my perch at the edge of the bouncy mattress.

Baekhyun laughs in that adorable way of his, cheeks rosy and eyes twinkling in delight as he wraps an arm around my waist. I hide my red face in his broad shoulder instead.

My family heads to sleep early for the night, lucky with being able to venture to the realm of dreams just as their heads hit their pillows. Must be nice, it takes hours of endless social media scrolling to catch up with friends before I can think of catching a wink of rest. Sehun sends me a meme so damn ridiculous I have to muffle my laughter in fear of waking everyone else up.

I don't settle down for sleep until well after midnight. The temperature in the room seems to have dropped 10 degrees within the last hour, making me shiver, quickly grabbing a fleece pajama top to pull over my butterfly printed sleeping shirt. After countless hours spent tossing and turning, I decided to get out of bed, walking over to open my door on light feet; peeking around to make sure no one else is awake.

Tiptoeing out into the hall, I avoid the creaks in the floorboards, smiling tiredly at the adorable sight up ahead in the living room.

Baekhyun is tucked under a pile of blankets, nothing but his silver-haired head exposed to the chilly temperature in the house. 70 degrees in Autumn is a complete 180 from 70 degrees in the Summer here. Thanks a lot, climate.

I ease my way into the room, taking a quick glance towards the dark kitchen that sends a shiver going down my spine.

"Baekhyun?" I whisper, trying to see if he's awake or not. Receiving no response, I inch closer; crouching down to rest my hand on his back, "Baek—"

He flinches, air mattress squawking under his weight, "Shit... Baby?" He chuckles, leaning upon his arm, running a hand through his ruffled hair. "You scared me."

"Yeah?" I whisper, biting back a laugh, "I can see that." Smiling softly at his weak glare, I shuffle closer on my knees.

"What are you doing?" He mumbles, sleep evident in his droopy eyes, low vocal octave, and the fabric indent on his cheek.

"Couldn't sleep," I shrug, watching him with a smile. "What about you?" I ask, hands resting comfortably on my knees, my eyes widening. "Are you comfortable? If your back hurts or anything we can sw—" A warm hand cupping my cheek silences me. I blink a few times while meeting his gaze; the fondness I find there warming up my sleepy form from the inside out.

"I'm alright," He mumbles, thumb rubbing over the curve of my cheek. Smile growing on his lips as I lean into his touch.

"Good." I hum, closing my eyes and nuzzling his palm.

"Come here," He sweetly requests.

Humming again, I focus on his comforting touch; squeaking when I'm suddenly being pulled onto the bed.

"Shh!" He hushes, laughing under his breath at the disgruntled look on my face; coaxing me to lay by his side.

I do so grumpily, heart still racing a mile a minute until the familiar scent of vanilla and Baekhyun wraps around me like a warm blanket. The racing of his own heart under my palm brings a smile to my lips. Quiet mutters under his breath has my eyes peeling back open to meet his, "Hmm?"

"It's not the same sleeping without you." He murmurs, softly squeezing his arms around my waist, a hint of shyness on his sleepy features.

"You seem to be doing just fine these past few weeks," I can't help but remind him, pointedly arching a brow.

Baekhyun sighs, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead that causes my cheeks to warm. "I'm sorry."

"All talk, where's the action?" I play it off as a joke, teasing grin contrasting the war raging in my heart and the depths of my worried mind.

He looks me over for a while, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind my ear. "I am. Starting…" He leans closer, soft lips hovering over mine, hot whisper making goosebumps rise on my skin, "Now."

"Sneaking around, huh?"

I barely give a response, snuggling closer to the pleasant heat of the pillow wrapped up in my arms only to pause when it vibrates under my touch, an all-too-familiar chuckle tickling my ear. My eyes snap open with a squeak, ducking under the covers at the sight of Baekhyun's lazy yet attractive smile. The feeling of his warm hand on the back of my bare thigh sends my cheeks aflame. How hard do you have to blush before catching on fire? I fear I am nearing that point.

"Here I was thinking I'd catch you both in your room this morning, but this-" Mom continues as I poke out my head, shooting her a grumpy look.

Grandma enters the room from the kitchen, lightly smacking her arm. "Leave them be." She scolds, smiling sweetly at us. "Good morning, lovebirds. Come, breakfast is ready."

And with that, Baekhyun and I swiftly began the new day. I offered to go to the store with Grandma to pick out something nice for dinner—and to sneak a peek at the dessert aisle. Who am I kidding, I got a cinnamon bun flavored tub of ice cream sitting in the cart right now. The description alone enough to make my eyes sparkle, according to Grandma.

"So," She begins, placing lettuce in the cart, "What was the fight about?"

"Grandma!" I splutter, nearly dropping the cucumbers in my hands along with my startled heartbeat. See what I mean? Can't hide shit in this house!

"What? You're both tiptoeing around each other like guilty little kids." She holds open the plastic bags as I drop the fruit inside with care. "It's not good to leave a fight unresolved, you know?"

"I-I know, it's just…" He's one of the most stubborn men alive—"Heart to hearts is not really our strong suit..."

"Do you want this relationship to last?" She looks me dead in the eye then, seeming to find an answer despite my silence. "A relationship cannot work without communication and trust." Her statement is firm, but her tone softens, "You've seen what happens when those are lacking."

I go quiet for a while, taking a peek at the grocery list, "I'll go pick the spaghetti noodles." With that, I venture off on my own.

My pace is slow, dragging my feet deeper into the store. A chew toy left in the middle of my path nearly sends me falling on my face. Texting and walking who? More like no thinking and walking, I've become a walking hazard here.

The desired aisle is easy to find, an array of noodle brands with tomato sauce on the opposite side. I scan the shelves, making sure every product matches the pictures on my phone. Mom is funny about what she eats.

I'm debating over which sauce is the right kind when a long fingernailed hand is digging into my shoulder. I spin around with a hiss, ready to tear into whatever fucker had the audacity to put their filthy hands on me only to pause, blinking at the woman standing in front of me.

"Oh good, it is you," The raven woman drawls in a high pitched yet raspy voice, smelling heavily of smoke. "I need to talk to you." Recognition takes longer than usual to set in. It's that fucking ex-fling of Baekhyun's—

Or is she an ex? That small part of me wonders, a lump suddenly forms in my throat. I ain't got time for this shit, and I swear her hair changes more than the seasons. What did Baekhyun ever see in her—don't answer that. Shut up.

"I'm casually gonna walk away," I utter blankly, swiftly turning on my heel only for her to end up following me.

"I need to tell you something."

My eye twitches, counting backward from 20 in my head. "I don't give a flying fu-"

"I know what Baekhyun refuses to tell you." She drops, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Slowly turning to her again, I look her over suspiciously, tucking the packet of noodles in the crook of my arm. "Like what?"

"Ever wondered why Baekhyun is notorious for getting around?" She looks me over for a moment, amusement twitching at her annoyingly red-painted lips, "Oops, I mean was sorry."

"Can you hurry the fuck up?" I snap with narrowed eyes, already done with her bullshit.

She looks at me for a long moment, the smirk melting off her face entirely. "Baekhyun has a lot of skeletons in his closet. And you know," She chuckles, shooting me a fake pitying look, "It's entertaining, seeing which one will jump out at you next."

She's walking away before I can respond, the stinging scent of her perfume and the annoying clink of her heels left in her wake along with my disturbing thoughts. What does she mean by skeletons?.. And how does she know that… He—

"Riley."

I snap out of it, turning around with wide eyes and my heart in my throat, "Oh! Grandma." I exclaim, jumping back with a hand over my heart, sighing shakily in relief. "It's just you."

"You okay?" Her brows are furrowed, concern shimmering in her blue eyes.

"Y-Yeah," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck. Growing more uncomfortable the longer we stand in the middle of this damn store. "Just spaced out for a second."

She looks at me for a moment, pushing the cart towards the cash register. "Come, let's get you back home."

"Hopefully it's still in one piece..." I mutter, heart pounding furiously in my ears.

"I'm sure it is." She chuckles, sending me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure Baekhyun's missing you too."

Is he? The thought comes so suddenly, I freeze. Do I… Am I doubting him now?

Has a lot of skeletons in his closet...

I shake it off or at least try to on the journey home. But not even Baekhyun's warm smile and open arms can lift the sinking feeling weighing on my heart.

Dinner goes by in the blink of an eye along with a popular comedy movie we decide to watch together. The clever jokes and hilarious scenes distract my overthinking mind for a while. Enough for me to find peace in Baekhyun's embrace despite my growing anxiety and the obvious giggles coming from Grandma on the other couch across the room.

"Thanks for having us." I put on a smile for Mom as they send us off at the door, one she can easily see through with a frown, but that's okay. It's enough to fool Baekhyun while he receives a fist bump from her and a tight hug from Grandma. Their own unique ways of showing approval before turning to pull me into a three-way hug. I almost don't want to leave their loving hold, or this house I call home. Taking a year off of school was a good idea, but… is dating Baekhyun?

I can feel the negative energy coming off of me in waves, fuck, time to go.

Our walk to the car is quiet compared to the chaos going on in my head; warm fingertips brushing against chilly palms. I'm so lost in thought, the next time I look up we are on the highway again. An endless stream of vehicles traveling alongside us. The sunset has a reddish tint tonight, giant fluffy clouds attempting to hide the glowing star from view. Almost like the stunning man next to me, so close yet so far like a fading dream, just out of reach. Slipping out of your hands before you can fully grasp it and print it into your memory.

Something you hope for, but can never have.

"Baek…" I can only manage a mere whisper. My heart still hasn't left my throat, anxiously apparently in my restless hands. Every word I utter takes all of my strength to get out.

"Yes, love?" He briefly glances over at me, steering the car with a confident hand. The heart-softening endearment he uses only causes my heart to squeeze even more.

"Can I go home with you?" I can't bring myself to meet his eye, something he seems to pick up on, shifting uneasily in his seat.

"Of course, baby." He tries to soothe, free hand searching for mine. I shove my hands deep in the space between my thighs, keeping my gaze focused on the city lights streaming past the window.

Nothing else but the radio and the fast pace of cars fill the silence. I can just imagine the hurt expression on his handsome face, busying myself with bending shapes into my hair-tie; not brushing rebellious strands of hair out of my face despite how annoying it dangles in my eyes.

All too soon, Baekhyun is parking the Audi in his designated spot, pink lips parting unsurely, "Are you-"

"Inside, please." I utter quietly. Climbing out before he can respond; calmly closing the car door behind me and remembering how to breathe. I think it's about time… I tell him some things. And hope he feels comfortable enough to open up in return. —Or run if shit gets bad, Sehun's number is looking mighty tempting right now.

The walk up to his apartment is a long one. Standing on opposite sides of the elevator and footsteps echoing across vacant halls. He has that blank expression on his face again; lips downturned and brown orbs full of questions. Hopefully, I can answer them…

His apartment comes into view, the sight of the familiar door brings back memories of the last time I was here. The heated words spewed and frustrated feelings shared. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as Baekhyun unlocks the door. Tentatively stepping into the cold home.

"Do you," He falters when I turn to face him; gulping before continuing, "Do you want to talk now?" The crack of his voice gives him away, looking more like a frightened child than the strong man I've come to know.

"Yes."

"O-Oh." It's a bit funny how much impact that simple word seems to have on him; an even more fearful expression takes place on his features. Sock clad feet shuffling awkwardly in the middle of his living room, voice as quiet as a mouse, "Okay…"

I close my eyes; hands gripping the bottom of my shirt. Here goes nothing. "I had a few boyfriends before you. And...they didn't leave the best impression on me." My eyes flutter back open, meeting his shaky ones. The words come a bit easier after that. "They'd chase after me for months—sometimes the whole school year—and as soon as they got with me, They…" I bite my wobbling lip, inhaling sharply. "They never wanted to be affectionate in public. Never wanted to tell their friends, and…"

Baekhyun steps closer, carefully holding out his hand to me. I place my trembling palm in his, inwardly cursing my nerves.

"All of them ended up cheating on me." Flickering my gaze up to his softened features, I gulp, nodding at the comforting squeeze of his hand before continuing. "I was...treated like an object, for lack of a better word." I chuckle bitterly, haunting memories playing behind my blurry eyes like a tragic film. "A bet of who would sleep with me first among a large group of friends. A group that I had trusted for years."

I shake them off, focusing on our joined hands instead. "Besides that… my last straw was my best friend at the time trying to convince me to go against my mom. 'You should go out more.' 'Tell her you want freedom'..." I scoff, laughing a little. "What an asshole. Acting as if he wasn't in on the dare as well. My mom has kept me out of more trouble than you would ever know. But to have my own best friend bad mouth her to my face and then say 'Well, you knew I was a jerk.' When I tried opening up to him about it…" Meeting his eyes, my heart aches a bit at the odd look on his face. He nearly looks in pain. "If it wasn't for Sehun, I would have been okay, but I wouldn't have been...you know." I shrug, laughing weakly, "More than a party animal if you know what I mean."

Baekhyun's brown orbs glisten as he pulls me closer to his chest. Strong arms wrapping me in his protective embrace, yet all I can think about is…

He didn't say a word.

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

What is even left for me to do at this point? I… feel as if I have been fair. I've given him a whole month to say something. Anything. And yet here we are, continuing with our daily lives as if there aren't unanswered questions weighing on our hearts—unless… D-Does Baekhyun even care? Is he really just going to sweep this under the rug?

…

Okay.

Okay, if this is what he wants, it's what he gets, right? Mr. Big shot CEO, holding onto his own vulnerability through thick and thin. I thought we had moved past keeping things from each other in our long talk all those months ago, but apparently… That isn't the case.

So okay. Let's pretend as if he doesn't get jealous over every man in my life and I don't feel insecure by just looking at the dresses that were once my favorite now hung up in the back of my closet. Because I love him—because I don't want us to fight. Am I just dating myself now? Is that what this is? Guess I better enjoy this ride before it crashes and burns, huh. Peachy. Mother fucking peachy! But hey, there is no peach like the cute curves of his cheeks or stars like the ones ever-present in his mocha eyes.

Fuck you, Byun Baekhyun. In more ways than one. But just your luck that I am a woman of many talents, hmm?

I don't need some tight-fitting dress or painfully high heels to grab his attention. No, the way I carry myself out on the dance floor like no one's business is more than enough to lure him close. As long as these hips don't lie, he's mine. And at the end of the day, if he decides that all the attention I give—all the unconditional love I fucking shower him with—isn't enough, then fuck him. What he could consider walking away, I take it as a favor. But no other fucking woman in their right mind would put up with his shit as I do, but then again… Who 'in her right mind' fell in love with the notorious, multi-millionaire playboy studying off-campus…

"Are you sure you want to go clubbing tonight?" Baekhyun's voice is soft enough, green orbs eyeing me carefully. Funny how he is asking this as if he didn't already have plans to go out tonight. Dressed casually in black with a subtle, middle part of his freshly dyed silver hair. When did he even get those contacts? It's funny how much of someone's life you can miss in a few weeks of little to no dates.

"Yes, baby," I purr, smoothing out my lip gloss in the reflection of my hand-held mirror. Making sure not a strand of hair is out of place. There's nothing like pairing my soft, blue button-down denim shirt with black shorts, and my hair parted the right. A few spritz of hair-spray doing a great job of keeping it durable yet mobile. Perfect for my plans for the night.

Baekhyun looks over at me from the driver's seat, adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he steps out into the cool night. Meeting me on the sidewalk. We walk into the club hand and hand, the booming bass of music pumping adrenaline in my veins.

"Do you want a drink?" His honey-smooth voice is nearly drowned out by the loud atmosphere, pinks lips brushing the shell of my ear. I simply nod, yelling, "The usual!" To his back as he gravitates to the bar. The sight of grinding bodies brings a smirk to my lips, hidden behind the glass Baekhyun hands me minutes later.

"Come," He murmurs, leading me over to an empty booth. Sitting down and pulling me into his lap. I slowly move along with his urging hands on my waist, savoring my drink. Relaxing against him with an appreciative hum, curiously watching him sip at his glass. The reddish concoction looks similar to my own.

It's rare that I take the time to observe the scene of drunken bodies dancing under the neon disco lights without the urgency to join them, but tonight is a special occasion. And with that comes uttermost care. Running my hand through Baekhyun's hair and pushing my ass against him while leaning forward to set my drink on the table.

"Want to dance?" I inquire, already finding the answer within his droopy brown eyes. The lazy way his slender fingers card through his silver hair enough of an indicator.

"No thank you, baby." He mumbles, dropping a lingering kiss to that sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I fight the urge to shiver under his touch, inwardly praising my self-restraint; shortly moving off of him to venture out into my home away from home—the dance floor. A carefree atmosphere after my own heart. The beginning of a familiar Latino song captures my attention.

¿Cómo te llamas, baby?

A little mezcal got me feelin' spicy

I know that we don't speak the same language

But I'm gonna let my body talk for me (Talk for me)

Raising my hands while swaying my hips side to side, I let the music take control. Spinning around to face Baekhyun with a cheeky nod, running my hands through my hair.

Hola, me llamo Katy

A little mezcal got me feelin' naughty (Let's go)

I know that we don't speak the same language (Woo)

So I'm gonna let my body talk for me (Talk for me)

I take my time strolling through the crowded dance floor as catchy Spanish lyrics ring through the air, glancing over at him every now and then.

Dress up with my girls, on the hunt tonight

Got a feelin' I'ma catch a wild one

I mouth along to the words, cooly dusting off my shoulders as I move around, trying to entice Baekhyun to come over with every sway of my hips. "And I know that I'm not typically your type. But you never had this kind of stimulation"

Trying to find a dance partner is proving to be difficult, I seek out eye contact with someone. Anyone. But everyone seems to lack rhythm tonight. Too many out of tempo movements and whiskey painted breaths. I push through to locate Baekhyun again, meeting his dark brown orbs from across the room.

Con calma

I see you're lovin' the way I work the floor now

I got the poom-poom, boy

You could be my Puerto Rican dream, and I'll be your California gurl now

I got the poom-poom, boy

Fuck it. I'll dance by my damn self. No one is up to par with my standards except the stubborn man seated across the room who's having way too much fun watching me struggle. But it's alright. I got something for his smug ass.

Con calma, yo quiero ver como ella lo menea (Con calma)

Mueve ese poom-poom, girl (Girl)

Es un asesina, cuando baila quiere que to' el mundo la vea

I like your poom-poom, girl

I pop open three buttons of my shirt, taking a few steps back towards the center of the dancefloor. Just far away enough to be partially hidden from view. Baekhyun leans forward, taking a hard swig of his drink. Fingertips playing with his bottom lip.

Come with a nice young lady (Let's go)

Intelligent, yes, she gentle and irie (¡Fuego!)

Everywhere me go me never lef' her at all-ie (¡Dile! ¡Ja!)

Yes-a Daddy Snow me are the roam dance man-a (Ay, Papi!) (Snow)

Once again raising my hands above my head while swaying my hips fluidly like a hypnotized python to a tamer, I run my hands down my body in time with the beat; eyes still locked on his. The clench of his jaw and tightening of his grip on the glass in his hand curling a knowing smirk on my lips.

Roam between-a dancin' in-a in-a nation-a (Prr-prr-prr)

You never know say daddy me Snow me are the boom shakata

I strut around the dance floor with attitude, flicking my hair while beckoning him over with my eyes. Baekhyun hastily sets his empty glass on the table, swiftly making his way over to me.

Con calma, yo quiero ver como ella lo menea (Menea)

Mueve ese poom-poom, girl (¡Woo! Girl)

Es un asesina, cuando baila quiere que to' el mundo la vea (Oh, yeah)

I like your poom-poom, girl

He meets me move for move, gripping my hips. Firm chest pressed to my back and erection prominent every time our bodies brush against each other. My laugh is swallowed up by the rest of the song.

Con calma

I see you're lovin' the way I work the floor now

I got the poom-poom, boy

You could be my Puerto Rican dream, and I'll be your California gurl now

I got the poom-poom, boy

Baekhyun spins me to face him before the song even fades into the next. Gathering me to his chest in a searing kiss.

We take a cab back to his apartment; the Audi was taken under Jongdae's and Chanyeol's care for the remainder of the evening. The travel takes much longer than usual with Baekhyun insisting to stop at every hidden corner. Endless kisses and impatient hands.

"B-Baek," I bite my lip, cheeks heating up under his lustful stare.

"Tell me how you want it," He mutters, ripping off his shirt before caging me to the bed, "Tell me how you need it."

I want to—boy do I want to. Every part of me is screaming for me to do it, but…

My palms slide up his back, getting a good grip before switching our positions, pressing him against the messy sheets instead. I have other plans.

Baekhyun looks up at me, a little smirk on his lips that fuels my determination to do everything in my power to wipe it off. I take my time pulling down his jeans, eyes locked on his dark ones while brushing my lips over his newly exposed skin. Chuckling at the goosebumps left in my wake. "Someone is excited," I murmur, tucking my fingers under the waistband of his boxers; running the tip of my tongue up the length of his clothed cock.

"Riley..." He breathes, pupils blown, desire twitching under my touch.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, I tug down the thin fabric to set him free, gasping when I'm nearly smacked in the face when his cock springs to attention. This is the first time I'm seeing him up close, and damn this man for being stunning all over. Even his cock is pretty with its flushed red tip and prominent vein running up the side. Drops of precum sliding down his shaft quickly collected by my eager tongue.

"Fuck." He hisses, tangling a hand in my hair as I take him into my mouth, being mindful of my teeth. "Baby."

I hum, something he seems to appreciate as more of his precum drips onto my tongue. His thighs tense up under my hands as I bob my head, gradually working him into my throat.

"B-Baby," His voice wavers, lips shaking when I glance up at him. He thrusts further into my mouth the second we make eye contact, causing me to choke, pulling a whiny noise from him that I've never quite heard before.

I keep up a steady pace, wrapping a hand around his base to massage his balls while moving to swirl my tongue around the head. His hips buck once again, grip tightening on my hair, a gruntle moan falling from his kiss-swollen lips.

After a while, he tugs on my hair again, rougher than before. I pull off of pulsing cock, looking at him with wide eyes as he urges me back up his body, "Wha-"

His lips smash to mine, hands roughly pulling at the rest of my clothes. "Let me see you," He murmurs, lips brushing over the sensitive spot on my neck. I slip off my shirt without hesitation, assisting him in taking off my shorts; pushing them off the side of the bed. He takes a brief pause, looking me over as my heart hammers in my chest, cheeks warming when his eyes meet mine once again. "Beautiful." His breath fans over my breasts, slender fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "Baby?"

"Hmm?" I tilt my head to give him better access, whimpering at the way his teeth graze my nipples.

"Sit on my face," He murmurs, hands urging me forward before I can even react.

"W-/What?/" I look at him, wide-eyed and thighs clenched around his waist, feeling my arousal pool in my underwear.

Baekhyun licks his lips, smirking at the way I stare, squirming above him. His large hands gently squeeze my waist, "Do you trust me?"

Gazing into his earnest yet lust-filled eyes, I nod, gulping. "Y-Yes."

"Come here," He murmurs, helping me slip off my lace panties.

I slowly climb further up his body, feeling immensely aroused yet a bit apprehensive as he helps me forward; shaking a little when my thighs rest over his shoulders. Having yet to find a stable position when his hands flex around my hips, warm wet tongue swiping between my folds.

I jerk away with a squeak, glaring weakly down at his chuckling form, "Baek!"

"Hmm?" His tongue brushes against me again, teeth tugging at my hypersensitive folds as I let out a soft moan. "You were saying, baby?"

My eyes don't stray far from his, heart and pussy pulsing in sync at the way he watches me crumble under his touch. Strong hands holding me steady as my breathing shortens; panting for air at his tortuous circles around where I need him the most.

"...Please," I mumble.

"Hmm?" He obnoxiously smacks his lips against my wet core, causing heat to rise onto my already flushed cheeks. Those brown orbs of his twinkling mischievously, "What was that, baby?"

I curse under my breath, hastily tangling my fingers in his hair, "You really are something-"

He gasps, looking up at me with wide eyes when I yank his head back, bending over to stare him down.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm?" I muse a smirk curling at my lips. The shocked expression on his handsome face boosts my confidence. "You're not afraid I'll show you up in giving oral, are you?"

Baekhyun's eyes narrow, a switch seeming to flip in him before he's pulling me down to his open mouth. My gasp interrupted by his own moan, pink lips wrapped tight around my aching clit. "F-Fu—aah," I whimper, thighs shaking from the direct stimulation.

He chuckles, pulling back to lick his lips. "What's wrong, my love?" His warm breath fanning over my core makes my legs tremble more, whimpering as he tightens his grip. "Coming already?"

"N-" My eyes roll back as his tongue slides inside of me and fucking curls towards my sweet spot, damn near making me shatter around him right there and then. "No." I grit out between clenched teeth, bucking at the way his nose rubs against my sensitive clit.

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, triggering my own moan when his teeth graze my clit. "Making a mess all over me. Do you like sitting on my face, baby?"

"Baekhyun…" I can hardly speak at this point, slowly grinding myself against his mouth, feeling breathless with every flick of his tongue that touches my quivering core.

"Fuck." His sudden grunt has me opening my eyes, looking over my shoulder at him stroking himself. The cute mole on his thumb is a complete contrast to the leaking cock in his palm. "I can feel you throbbing…"

My orgasm sneaks up on me before I realize it; thighs quaking and back arching so high Baekhyun is quick to steady me, continuing to pull me along his stiffened tongue as I cry out his name.

"Fu—ha," I tighten my grip on his hair, trying to get my shaky limbs to cooperate enough to lift off of his unrelenting mouth. "Baekhyun, please-"

"Mm-mm," He protests, landing a swift smack on my ass that makes me release a small cry, thighs clenching around his head. "Stay right there."

"B-Baek..." I'm slipping here—literally. My shaky thighs refusing to cooperate.

He takes a few moments to notice, lifting me off of his face before I feel a brief breeze, finding my back against the silk sheets. "You're perfect," He breathes, making me blush, gulping at his hands running up my trembling inner thighs. I hold myself up on my elbows, watching him press kisses up the length of my body.

"Baby," He looks at me with those dark eyes, sliding a hand down my abdomen, "lay back."

My heart is promptly set into overdrive. I do as told, relaxing against the pillows only to buck my hips with a gasp when he slips a finger into my core.

"Soaking wet for me," He murmurs sucking on a new spot on my neck, sliding another finger in with ease.

All I know is his name at this point, calling for him between hoarse whimpers and breathless gasps; feeling that knot forming in my stomach again as his fingers brush over my sweet spot. I reach down to wrap my hand around his wrist, clenching around his digits as he speeds up, obscene noises of my own desire sounding out amongst our shaky moans and heavy breaths.

"Look at you," He muses, watching me squirm under his touch, free hand pressing on my lower stomach to keep me pressed to the bed. I cry out when he hits my sweet spot head-on, "Taking my fingers so well."

"Bae…" My words falter, head thrown back when his thumb joins into the mix along with a third finger, the blissful stretch combined with firm taps on my clit sending me over the edge.

"Fuck." He grunts as I slowly open my eyes, not even realizing I had closed them while he slips his wet fingers between his lips, groaning loudly as I bite my own. He notes the expression on my face, attractively raising a brow while pressing his body back to mine, "I want to drink on your sweet." He murmurs, tone dripping with lust as he leans over to the nightstand.

"N-No." I pant, grabbing his forearm.

Baekhyun pauses, looking at me with wide eyes, brows furrowed in concern. "Do you want to stop, love?"

I shake my head, running my hand over his back as he leans down to me again, littering my jaw with soft kisses. "N-No I just…" I gulp, wrapping my thighs around his waist. "I don't want a condom."

Baekhyun freezes, and for a moment I consider backtracking, but he just cups my face in his hands. "Are you sure?" He looks me over, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Yeah," Noting the concern still playing on his features, I reach up to brush my thumb over his cheek. "I'm on birth control, idiot."

"What!?" His eyes widen comically as I nod, "Since when?"

"The first time," I mumble, cheeks warming at the memory of our first night together. The deer caught in headlights look on his face makes me giggle, "I love you, but I'm not ready to have a baby with your Byun. Haven't you noticed?" I continue a bit quieter, gesturing to myself, "I got bigger..."

"No," He shakes his head, taking my hands into his own, staring at me with sincerity in his shining eyes. "You're just as beautiful, if not more so." His voice lowers, taking on that sexy lit again while nibbling my earlobe, warm hand soothing rubbing over my waist, "And sexy as hell."

My face damn near bursts into flames. Flustered giggles at his ticklish kisses on that sensitive spot behind my ear morphing into gasps as his cock brushes against my folds.

Baekhyun leans back a bit, taking a hold of himself while sliding his cock around in my arousal, making me whimper every time his head brushes over my clit. He pauses after lining it up with my entrance, looking back up at me from behind damp strands of silver hair sticking to his forehead.

I nod, biting my lip as he slips inside, my head falling back when he pushes into the hilt.

"God." He groans, starting to pull back out.

"W-Wait," I gasp, pressing my hands to his chest. Baekhyun tenses, looking at me with wide eyes. "You okay, love? Shit. Did I hurt you? I'm so-"

"Baek!" I laugh a little, cupping his cheeks so he'll look at me, shaking my head. "No," I murmur, a smile curling at my lips. "I just…" I hesitate, bashful under his attentive eyes. So sweet. "I want to top."

He relaxes with a gulp, strong arms wrapping around me before switching our positions. I carefully straddle him, finding a comfortable position on my knees before lifting up, letting him line his cock up with my entrance. He meets my eyes, smiling softly as if sensing my nerves, large hand lightly squeezing my hip. "I got you, baby."

Releasing a shaky breath, I nod, slowly sliding down onto him, taking pleasure in the way his jaw drops, head of messy silver locks thudding against the pillows. It's a tighter fit with him in this position. It feels so good I'm almost afraid to move at risk of coming again.

Baekhyun's fingers twitch against my hips when I move, tentatively lifting up to the tip before sliding back down again. My slow pace pulling the prettiest of moans from his red lips.

"Baby," He breathes, quickly licking his lips, eyes focused on where we are joined, "Faster."

"I don't know~" I smirk, lightly dragging my nails down his torso to pull a gasp from him, "I think I like seeing you like this."

That shift happens in his eyes again, giving me no time to prepare for his tightened grip and buck of hips, cock hitting a spot that falters my pace, leaving my thighs trembling. "And I like making you cum," He murmurs, smirk of his own on his lips while continuing to thrust into that spot, our bodies coming together with satisfying slaps of ass against his thighs.

"So fucking wet," He groans eyes drifting back to our joined parts, licking the pad of his thumb and bringing it down to rub quick circles over my clit.

"Fuck-" I gasp, trying to stay upright as he quickens the pace. "Baek-"

"Come for me, baby." He mutters in a breathy tone, thrusts tripling in speed until I'm coming hard around him, falling onto his chest in a heap. He slows down to a stop while I recover. Just when I think we are done, he's flipping us back over. "Baek-" I stop, whimpering as he pushes back into the hilt.

"We're not done, baby." He murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear. My pussy quivers at the thought of another round.

"I…" My eyes drift over to the glowing red clock sat on top of the nightstand; the timestamp of 5:00 am causing my eyes to widen. "D-Don't you have work in the morn…" I falter, arching my back when he circles his hips, thick cock stretching out my tight walls, "...ing?"

"Baby," He chuckles, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear, meeting my eyes, "We can stay up."

"I…" Biting hard on my lip, I press myself into his sneaky fingers lightly rubbing around my clit, just enough to get me soaking the sheets even more below.

"I'll go easy on you." He promises, moving to sit up only to pause, meeting my gaze again, adding softly, "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop, okay?"

Smiling at him, I nod, accepting his sweet kisses when he leans in with a hum. "Okay."

Baekhyun's smile morphs into a more serious expression, concentrating on slowly moving within my walls to give me time to recover. He pauses when I lift my hips to meet his movements, reaching to place my right leg on his shoulder, the shift of position pulls a loud gasp from my lips. He moans in turn at my vice-like grip around his cock, steadily picking up the pace.

"Fuck, what a naughty girl you are." His grip tightens on my hips, tilting them up to better accommodate his thrusts, "Letting me fuck you raw in our bed."

My heart raced at the use of the word 'our.' A sense of belonging in this house; this room; this bed with him brings me to a dangerous peak. It feels more intense than all the others before and I don't know if I can handle it.

Baekhyun takes notice, holding my hips down to the bed. "Come on, baby." He slides a hand down to hover over my clit, "Come for me, give me one more." A mere brush of him over my sensitive bud and I'm gone, vision going black as a distinct ringing fills my ears.

"Fuck." His loud groans and wandering hands bring me back down to earth, thankfully he's slowed down the pace of his thrusts.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight." He says through gritted teeth, grinding against me as my walls don't let up their grip around him. "Mmm. Do you want me to cum inside you?" He breathes heavily, cock throbbing deep within my spasming walls with his slow yet hard pace. "Hmm? Do you baby?"

"Y-Yes!" I can't even recognize myself at this point, meeting his steady thrusts with my shaky movements.

"I know you want it." He grunts, snapping into me so roughly I give a small cry, clutching the bedsheets. "I know you need it..." He falters, pace taking on sloppy thrusts as I feel him harden even more inside of me. "Fuck," His eyes search for my own, the desperation in them makes me clench around him. "God, baby, can I?"

I nod quickly, wrapping my thighs tightly around his waist as he trembles. "Come for me, Baekhyun." I murmur, rubbing my hands down his heaving chest, "Come inside me. Make me yours."

My words seem to trigger him, the brand new feeling of warmth spurting inside of me pulls another loud gasp from my lips and whiny moans from his; his shaky forearms holding him up before his body weight can overwhelm me as I'm filled up to the brim with his cum full of lust and love. I hold him close, rubbing over his back as we catch our breaths.

Baekhyun nuzzles in my neck, letting out a long sigh. "God, you're trying to kill me."

"Me!?" I exclaim incredulously, giggling at his playful kisses peppering my heated skin. "Who's the one pulling four orgasms from my poor body?"

"You loved it," He mumbles, soft smile pressed to my skin.

"I did," I admit without missing a beat, giggling more at the blissed-out expression on his face.

Baekhyun hums, brushing my hair out of my face, a fond look in his sparkly brown eyes that makes my heart squeeze and soar at the same time. "I'll be right back," He mumbles, planting a quick peck on my lips, getting out of bed to head into the bathroom.

Sighing softly, I relax back against the sheets; nose scrunching up at the aftermath of our—cue the blushing—activities dripping down my thighs.

Baekhyun comes back with a towel in hand, gently cleaning me off with the damp material before throwing it into the hamper across the room. Snuggling back in the warmth of my worn-out body. "I love you," He utters, pressing a kiss over my heart.

"I love you too." My reply is instant enough; his satisfied hum evening out into deep breaths. Eyelashes caressing the tops of adorable mochi cheeks.

I point my gaze to the ceiling, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears brimming my eyes. Is this really the beginning of the end?

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Thank you for reading this long asf chapter. Let me know what you think! Even if it’s with pitchforks lmao. Have a beautiful Sunday.

#Baekhyun smut #Baekhyun fluff #Baekhyun angst #Baekhyun romance #Six Phases

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queenbirbs · 3 years

Text

on this winter night with you | Ethan Ramsey x MC

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Sloane McTavish)

Summary: Ethan attempts to decorate his apartment for Christmas and worries himself into the ground about it, as per usual.

WC: 1.8k

Warnings: alcohol mention

Notes: Takes place during book two. Title from Gordon Lightfoot’s “Song for a Winter’s Night.”

------

“This looks stupid,” he mutters to himself for what might be the fortieth time.

Still, Ethan can’t resist reaching out and shifting the small pile of presents again. As if another inch to the right will suddenly make them fit in amongst the other decor on his mantle. They should be in their traditional place under the tree, but Jenner nearly consumed an entire bow when he turned his back. And with how much time he wasted watching wrapping tutorials on his phone -- twenty-seven minutes, according to the video length and the amount of times he replayed it -- he doesn’t have the energy to deal with that again.

Especially when he’s spent so much of the afternoon fighting with the lights. When he pulled them from the dark tomb of his guest bedroom closet, they were wrapped neatly around a divider -- thanks to his dad, who gifted them to him years ago. Somehow, in the short trek to the living room, Ethan managed to tangle them into an incomprehensible mess.

And there went another sixteen minutes.

He has studies published in several dozen medical journals; he wrote his own textbook before the age of 27; he’s been the keynote speaker at the North American Diagnostics Conference for two of the past five years. But Ethan doesn’t even want to know how long he struggled with wrapping the lights around the tree, before he realized he could just pull the damn thing away from the corner. After wrestling it back into said corner, he plugged in the cord. Only to find that the lights were set on some bizarre, rapid blinking pattern that he couldn’t seem to switch off.

There must be a joke out there about a doctor reading a wikiHow article on how to set up a Christmas tree. He sure isn’t laughing, though. Because for all his troubles, his apartment looks like the set of a low-budget holiday special.

“This looks stupid.”

From the floor, behind the makeshift barricade around the tree, Jenner grunts in agreement. Ethan bites back the sigh that begs to form, figuring that he’s met his quota already. It’s irrational to be nervous about something so trivial -- it’s all tinsel and plastic pine needles, after all. But that’s not counting for what’s at the bottom of the box on the coffee table. Which is why he wants this to be perfect. Which is why he should stop worrying over the decor and see to dinner.

He’s only gotten to slicing the tomatoes when Jenner races to the front door.

“--the state with the worst drivers, I swear,” Sloane says to no one in particular as she opens the door. “I read an article about it in The Atlantic.”

Bundled up in her coat and his scarf, she shakes the snow from her hair. Fat drops of ice plod onto the rug. She bypasses the coat rack and drapes hers across a barstool, then dumps her bag and scarf onto the island, muttering all the while about Massachusetts drivers. Her heels clatter to the floor as she kicks them off and moans in relief. It should be silly that, despite the panic he feels at her early arrival and the slight annoyance at the mess she’s made of the foyer, he’s still hit with that familiar pang of affection for this woman. He likes being on this side of the fence when it comes to their relationship. The side where it’s just the two of them, with no workplace rules or curious onlookers to spy on them. The sex is fantastic, don’t get him wrong, but there’s something thrilling about the domesticity. He certainly wasn’t ever able to say that about his other relationships.

Now, if he could emit any sort of verbal greeting from where he’s frozen in place at the counter.

“You’re early,” he declares, wincing at the lack of subtlety.

“Patient transfer went without a hitch. Must’ve been one of those Christmas miracles I hear so much about. So Naveen said I could head out.”

Sloane pops open the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine. Passing behind him, she gives his hip a quick squeeze before locating the corkscrew. She glances up through the curtain of her hair at him and grins, reading his nervous energy as easily as a book. He’s never been good at hiding much from her which, looking back, was probably for the best. “I texted you.”

“I… you did?”

Popping the cork, she shoots him another look as she pours them each a glass. He takes his and tries not to seem too eager to have a sip. Reflections on the bottle pull her attention from him and to the odd light show playing in the living room. Ethan watches as she rounds the couch and lets out an amused chuckle.

“What’s with the textbooks?”

“Jenner kept trying to eat the ornaments. And the tree skirt. And the tree.”

“Most people get those weird, little fences.”

“I’ll get a ‘weird, little fence’ next year.”

“Don’t. I like it. It’s very…” she tips her head to the side, as if she’s assessing an art piece and not the Great Wall of Oxford University Press, “...you.”

“Thanks. I think.” Coming to stand beside her, he gestures to a plastic storage bin on the coffee table. “I didn’t have a chance to hang the ornaments yet.”

“Good. We can do it together.” Bumping her nose against his arm, she drops a kiss to the fabric there, and then another on his jaw. “After dinner, though, because I’m starving.”

Leaning down, he hauls her close with his arm around her waist and captures her lips with his own. After a long, long moment, he pulls away and lets them both catch their breath.

“Me too,” he says, grinning when she rolls her eyes at his antics.

“Yeah, I got that. C’mon, you take care of the main course and I’ll handle dessert.”

------

“Isn’t this supposed to accompany dessert?” he questions as he reads the label.

“Hush. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re both adults with high-stress jobs working on a veritable sinking ship that we’re choosing to go down with.” Sloane ticks off the reasons with her fingers, though she only gets as far as those two before he passes the bottle of Marchese dell’Elsa to her. “And it’s Christmas Eve.”

“You already said that.”

“Enough backtalk.” She uses her stern voice, but the effect is diminished by the sleeves of his sweater sliding back down over her hands. “It’s time for the best part.”

Reaching into the plastic bin, she pulls an ornament free from the tissue paper. It’s a green, silk ball, shot through with a gold stitching that’s coming loose. Ethan thinks it’s old enough to be his paternal grandmother’s. A woman he has few memories of, but the ones he has -- orange parquet floors, low, throaty laughs, and the spicy scent of menthol cream -- are fond. Sloane moves over to the tree and settles it near the top.

Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album and the hiss of the gas fireplace accompany them as they make slow work of emptying out the bin. Glittery snowflakes and chipping snowmen hang amongst the cheesy doctor phrases his dad insists on gifting him.

“Aww look at you,” Sloane drags out the word as he lifts out one of the last ornaments. Crafted from popsicle sticks glued together, the makeshift frame holds a glossy picture of Ethan clutching a first place trophy for the fourth grade science fair. “What was your project?”

“A lemon volcano.”

“That’s so cute. Mine was on the different decomposition rates of plastic in fresh versus saltwater.”

“Nobody likes a braggart,” he mumbles, prompting a laugh from her as she snatches the ornament from his hand and hangs it dead center on the tree.

She turns back to rifle through the bin for any small baubles they may have missed, only for her to lift out a gold key tied with a ribbon. Confusion draws her brows together as she inspects it. Though he despises hyperbole, he can’t deny the near-feeling of his heart in his throat. He gulps down what’s left in his glass and sucks in a breath. Sloane moves to place it on the tree when he reaches out to stop her.

“No, wait -- it’s… it’s for you,” he manages to stutter out.

She shifts to face him.

“What?”

“This year has been challenging. Probably the hardest and most grueling in a long time.” Ethan rubs his palm along his jaw, unable to suppress the smile that comes with his next words. “But you -- you made it all worth it. I can’t help but be thankful that I’m here with you, at the end of this awful year. And I know that we don’t know what’s going to happen with the hospital, or where we might be next year, but I don’t really care about any of that right now.”

And hadn’t that been a revelation, that the career he’d spent a decade dedicating his life to cultivating had fallen to the wayside when it came to his future with Sloane. Because that’s what he wants, at the end of the day, at the end of this mess. “Having you here with me -- I’ve gotten used to it. And I’d like for you to continue being here with me. If you want to, that is.”

Her green eyes are wide as they flicker from his face to the key and back again. The lights shimmer against the auburn waves that have come loose from her bun. She clears her throat and gives her head a little shake, as if waking herself from a daydream.

“I -- what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I lied about needing to donate my clothes. I mean, I am still doing that, but the reason wasn’t just for a yuletide cleaning. I was making space. For you to move in with me.”

He steps forward and settles his hands on her waist, kissing her once on the forehead. The smirk appears on his face, unbidden. “I thought I was being pretty obvious, what with leaving the top drawers empty and moving my suits to the guest closet.”

“I thought you were going to embrace the leather jacket look you picked up in Brazil and expand your wardrobe beyond grandpa sweaters and khakis,” she serves right back.

Ethan rolls his eyes at the dig.

“Big talk for the thief currently wearing one of these so-called ‘grandpa sweaters.’”

Sloane snuggles close, right into the space where she fits so well against his chest. Her fingers trace over the key.

“My answer is yes, by the way.”

The confirmation warms him, right down to the center of his chest. Or maybe a little to the left. Cupping her face, he slides his lips along hers, sighing with content when she deepens the kiss.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

------

Author’s notes and what-have-yous:

Another fic that’s mostly dialogue? Absolutely unheard of from me. Another fic that should’ve been posted in a timely manner? Yet here we are, day after Christmas. Oh well.

Was the hospital talk vague enough for it to be obvious that I… haven’t exactly finished book 2? I got to chapter 14 and then work hit me like a category five hurricane for two and a half months, so I haven’t gotten a chance to actually play the last few chapters. I’ll get around to them eventually.

Also: the Atlantic article is fake, though MA did receive the worst driver award back in 2014. As of 2020, Massachusetts was rated as the best for drivers (using data from 2017 through 2019).

Happy holidays and warm wishes to everyone still chugging through this wild, wild year.

#Kaila writes things #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #haven't posted in a while so we get to play the age old game of will this show up in the tags #ooh how fun #f: on this winter night with you

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jazminetoad · 3 years

Text

In My Reality | Prologue

Hey, I was bored so I decided to start a fanfic series of the Tatsumi Brothers from Juuni Taisen. Yay

It’s a “Tatsumi Brother x Reader” story about how the Tatsumi Brothers enter the reader’s reality which kinda flips her world upside down.

So I just finished the prologue. If you guys like it or if I’m bored again, I’ll make the first chapter. (Click “Keep Reading” to read the story)

"[Name] get out of bed; It's 3 in the afternoon," my mom told me as she came into my room with fresh, clean clothes. I didn't have to look over to know.

Groaning, I removed my mask from my eyes then rolled over to face up at the white ceiling. The sunlight seeping in from the blinds caused my sight to cringe before it finally adjected to the light and I could see the grey walls lurking in the corner of my eyes. Arising from my queen-sized bed a yawn escaped from my mouth. My form reached over and placed my sleep mask on the nightstand, next to my water mug.

"Morning mom," I greeted her as she sorted out the pile of clothes on my dresser. Looks like she did a colour load, which means no pants to put away.

"Morning sweetheart. Can you put your clothes away before you come downstairs?"

"Sure," I simply answered as I slipped out of the cozy sheets I once was tangled in.

"Thank you. I'll see you when you come down," she stated, placing the last of my t-shirts neatly on the others. Afterwards, she wrapped her arms around the remaining clean, clothes that weren't mine, carefully balancing them as she left my room and closed the door behind.

The click of the doorknob echoed into my ears when my feet landed on the fuzzy rug. My eyes drifted their gaze to the plain black bodypillow wrapped in [f/c] blankets, reminding me of a burrito. It just had the colour for the case, no special Anime character on it. I wish there were one though; it'd make the nights seem less lonely to see my favourite character's face on it. However, a pillow is a pillow. Despite me using it as an illusion for myself it doesn't change the reality that when I hug it in my sleep or when I'm awake no arms will return my embrace.

A sigh falls out of my breath, my eyelids dropping in sync. I turned my head away from the lying pillow and dragged myself to the other side of my bed, towards the dresser that patiently held the clean clothes my mom put there. I opened a drawer, putting my undergarments away first then my socks. Once those were put away, I moved to retrieve hangers from my closet, passing by my desk and shelves as I did.

If you were wondering why I slept so late into the afternoon, well, it's currently winter break, so that means I can stay up late and sleep in late past noon. Sadly enough, it's January which means the break almost over, and that means school is standing around the corner, menacingly. Just the thought of it disturbs my mind as that reality tries to infect my thoughts.

I hate reality. I know not all of it is shit, but there's enough of it that makes me want to drown myself in the world of fiction. Whenever it's the weekend or breaks from school, I binge Anime, tv shows, YouTube, and movies, so that's the only thing on my mind. I then write or read fanfiction, there is the rare occasion I sketch something but I'm not good at art since I don't practice enough. By the time I return to reality after having my head stuck in my imagination for so long, I can barely focus without going back to daydreaming. Eventually, that wears off, and then reality is what floods my brain; I despise it but I know I can't be stuck in my fantasies forever. Luckily my friends provide that nice spot in-between for me, helping me stay in the real world but also let me discuss the fictional. Then there's also my bro.

"Yo sis," my brother's voice called from the other side of the door after his fist knocked on it. "You wanna continue Code Geass?"

My bro is the best. Unlike most siblings I know, we actually get along. He's also a big help in my life, one of the reasons why I haven't lost my mind. He makes sure I don't overwork & stress myself and reminds me to have fun and chillax. I love him for it, and he's practically my best friend. We aren't the exact same age but we were born in the same year, just a few months apart so we get to be in the same grade. He's the older one. He's also taller which means he can t-pose over me, and we reenact the meme; it's great.

"Yeah," I answered. "Just let me get ready."

"Alright," he replied before I felt the vibration of his footsteps grow distant from my room.

'Heh, if I had Takeyasu's ability, I'd be able to sense his movement better.'

I chuckle to myself at the thought floating in my mind as I put the final shirt away. My two favourite characters that I desired to be real was the Tatsumi Brothers, Nagayuki and Takeyasu. I love those two. Whenever I watched their episodes from Juuni Taisen, I always smile. They make my heart feel something that I never felt for any character before. I don't want to be cliche and say true love, but to me, that's what it feels like. I know they're fictional characters, so I won't get much out of it, but strangely enough, I'm okay with that. I can't imagine my heart belonging to anyone else. I do wish they were real, though. I even used my wish on the bracelet my friend, Meri-chan, got for my birthday one year, that they'd become real.

The bracelet was some urban legend. It was lime green and had a few beads on it. The legend goes that you make a wish and when the bracelet breaks, your wish has come true. 'Course, it's most likely a bunch of baloney but that didn't stop me from wishing that the Tatsumi Brothers would become real. I currently just wear the bracelet as an accessory since the wish probably won't happen, it's not like the thing is going to break anytime soon.

Grabbing my towel, my other hand opened my door. I slipped down the hallway and slid into the bathroom, my foot pushing the door closed as I put the towel on the towel rack. Hopefully, I don't take too long because we were left on edge on the last episode of Code Geass we watched. Well, I'll finish sooner than my wish coming true that's for sure, heh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay bro but if you think about it, Lelouch-"

"[Name], I washed your school uniforms. Can you put them away while I start on tacos?" Mom requested from the kitchen, interrupting the Anime, my commentary, and reminding me that school is coming soon. "You too, [b/n]."

"Yes, mom," we both respond.

My brother picked up the remote and hit the pause button so we wouldn't miss anything. I pulled myself up from the plush couch, disappointment growing on me since I had hoped not to be interrupted until dinner was ready. Well, I guess I could let the disappointment wither away since it's Taco Tuesday, my favourite. I chuckled to myself as my feet reached the next level above the main floor and headed down the open hallway to my room.

My laughter died out upon seeing my seven school uniforms, five that were the regular female uniform and two that were gym uniforms. Unlike most students, I didn't like the idea of having to wash my uniform every day, so to make things simpler, I paid for six more with my own money. It was a bit irritating, using the money I earned from my summer job for this instead of getting something else. Still, my practical choice, so I didn't necessarily have to worry about my mom washing my uniform every night.

"Hhhhhh, why does school have to come back so soon?" I asked myself as I picked up one of the uniforms.

The uniform wasn't too special, a simple white blouse, a blue skirt, a blue jacket, and a blue & black striped tie. Students could decide if we wanted to wear tights, leggings, or shorts underneath the skirt as long as it was black or white. I wore leggings unless it was summer which I then wear shorts and knee-high socks. There are those girls that only wear thigh-high socks and panties under their skirt to which my nerd brain questions why. 'Course that's their choice, have fun with your ass cold.

A Discord ringtone made me resurface from my pond of inner thoughts. Becoming aware of my surroundings, I realized my friends Meri-chan and Kamida were calling on the Discord group chat we had. I could tell by the laptop I had open on my desk. I quickly put the uniform I had in hand on the rack with the others before sliding over and clicking the answer button that popped up.

"Yo, what's up nerds."

"Hey I'm not a nerd," Meri-chan protested. "I'm a cool kid."

"Meri-chan, we're all nerds here," Kamida stated before greeting me. "Hey [n/n], how you doing?"

"Eh, good I suppose but I could be doing better, Kami," I answered simply. "How's life?"

"Pretty chill but I got bored, so I decided to call you guys."

"Well, I'm just putting my uniforms away," I informed them and went to put the last uniform away.

"I sometimes forget that you have more than one," Meri-chan commented before I heard her gasp. "Hey, how 'bout we hang out tomorrow, we only have so many days before we have to go back to school."

"Oh, don't remind me," I groaned, hanging my head, then went back to putting the uniform on the hanger and walking over to the closet, hanging it up with the rest.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea Meri-chan, we could hang out tomorrow," Kamida suggested.

"I'm down," Meri-chan quickly responded.

"Welllllll..." I hesitated, sitting down in the [f/c] spinning chair in front of the desk.

"[Name]."

"You see, I kinda want to stay inside my last few days..."

"[n/nnnnn]!" Meri-chan whined.

"Come on [Name], you know you can't stay cooped up inside forever," Kamida reminded me.

"I know," I grumbled, leaning back in my seat. "Fine, I'll come out tomorrow, but it's going to be after 2."

"2 am, geez [n/n] I didn't know you'd be willing to come out that early," Kamida joked.

"I meant 2 pm," I corrected.

"Okay," he chuckled as Meri-chan pipped in.

"But if you're late again, you're buying lunch this time."

"Okay, bet, but what if I'm not?" I inquired, my fingers tapping on my desk.

"Mmmmmmm," she hummed, seemingly to be thinking.

"It's fine I'll pay for lunch tomorrow."

"Alright, but don't use it as an excuse to be late."

"I won't," I reassured her. "Anyway, I'm gonna go watch a few more episodes of Code Geass with my bro-"

"You still need to watch Dragon Ball Z," Kamida interrupted.

"And you need to watch Juuni Taisen," I countered, emphasizing the "you".

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed it off. "Anyway, go have fun with your bro. We'll call again later on tonight."

"Alright, bye guys." I left the call and closed out of discord then proceeded to shut my laptop.

Kamida and Meri-chan were my two friends from school; we've known each other since childhood. 'Course Meri-chan isn't Meri-chan's real name, that's just a nickname Kamida and I gave her. Occasionally, they called me [n/n]-chan but not too often. Then there are times where we call Kamida, Kami-kun, but mainly Meri-chan does it out of spite since Kamida doesn't like it. Especially when Meri-chan does it in her kawaii voice. Those two are the only ones outside of family that have the same vibe I do, that's probably why we've been friends for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, you guys ever wish fictional characters could become real?" I randomly asked out of the blue, staring up at the white ceiling as I waited for my friends over the call to answer my question.

"All the time," Meri-chan answered.

"We know simp," Kamida smugly commented.

"Nuuu!" Meri-chan pouted while Kamida and I laughed. "Hey, if anything [n/n] is the simp over here, she's the one actual crushing on the characters."

"Hey don't call me out like that."

"Ha! She doesn't deny it," Kamida jeered.

"Okay, what about you and Android 21?"

"Ack-" Kamida blurted before muting himself, causing me and Meri-chan to giggle. A few seconds pass by before he unmuted himself. "Why are you asking this question [n/n]?"

"No reason in particular-"

"Are you sure it's not you wanting to talk about Juuni Taisen?"

"No- it's not just that. I just think fictional characters would make reality interesting."

"Right..."

"Meri-chan if you could bring someone from Juuni Taisen to-"

"My boy Uuma! You should know this by now."

"Bruh-"

"Well, it's either that or Usagi, and I rather be alive thank you."

"Who's Uuma again?" Kamida inquired, not knowing who was who quite yet since he hasn't watched the Anime.

"Uuma is the warrior of the horse," I informed him.

"Right," Kamida mumbled before letting out a yawn.

"You sound tired, go to sleep!" Meri-chan told Kamida.

"No, you go to sleep."

"Guys, we're all on the same timezone. If one of us goes to sleep then we all do," I stated. "It makes sense since we're all planning on meeting up tomorrow."

"I guess we go to sleep," Meri-chan said bluntly.

"Yeah, alright, goodnight guys," Kamida yawned.

"Night."

"Night guys."

With that, we each left the call. I, however, didn't fall asleep right away. I woke up late and the night was still pretty early, so I opened up the Funimation app on my phone. Scrolling through the list of saved Anime, most of which were halfway through since my brother and I are watching them together, I came across Juuni Taisen.

"Why not..." I muttered to myself as my finger tapped on the Anime and went right to click on episode 7, In Like a Dragon, Out Like a Snake (Part 1).

By the time I finished episodes 7 and 8, it was 2 am when my eyes glanced at the clock in the top corner of my phone. Sighing to myself, I leaned over and snatched my charger off the nightstand, plugging it in the wall before connecting the other end to my phone. Turning off my phone, I placed it on the nightstand and snagged my sleep mask, putting that on my head.

As I laid there on my bed, silence flooded the room, not a sound to be heard but my own breathing. Vines of sorrow began to grow on me as the feeling of loneliness came over me. I tried to pull myself out of the emotion, turning over and wrapping my arms around the plain bodypillow in an attempt to comfort myself. In the end, it only helped slightly. It didn't erase the pain because I knew there were no arms that would hug me back. A tear escaped my eyes before I pulled my mask over them, and a final thought appeared in my mind before I entered the dream realm.

'I wish I wasn't alone...'

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Congratulations, Tatsumi {Ani|Otouto}, warrior of the {dragon|snake}!" Duodecuple exclaimed. "You are the winner of the 12th Juuni Taisen, everyone give yourself a hand!" The man started to applaud but soon stopped. "The antidote has settled in by now. You'll be fine."

{"Tch|Alright"} the Tatsumi brother simply responded.

"Now that you've won the Juuni Taisen, you can make one wish of your choice. Would you like to make your wish now, or would you like for it to be granted later?"

"In all honesty, when I arrived at the Juuni Taisen I wished for {nothing|money}, I didn't need anything else really but now that {I'm here|I had time to think about} I don't want to wish for {nothing|money}."

"Oh, do you have another wish in mind?" Duodecuple inquired the Tatsumi brother sitting in front of him, alone.

"Yeah... I wish me and my brother were never apart of the Juuni Taisen."

#tatsumi brothers #tatsumi kyoudai #tatsumi kyoudai ani #tatsumi kyoudai otouto #nagayuki tsumita #takeyasu tsumita #takeyasu #nagayuki #tatsumi brothers x reader #juuni taisen #juuni taisen au #juni taisen #juni taisen x reader #juuni taisen x reader #juuni taisen: zodiac war #juuni taisen snake #juuni taisen dragon #juuni taisen zodiac war #spot the reference

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viking-raider · 4 years

Text

Of Truth and Justice - Part III

Summary: Calea learns what she can from the Para-Demon’s blood and wakes where Clark has taken her.

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x OFC

Word Count: 8,787

Parts: I II

Rating: PG-13 - Justice League!AU, Language, Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Minor Character Death

Inspiration: Something that’s been on my Muse’s brain after watching Justice League a couple of times.

Author’s Note: TY to the amazing @wondersofdreaming for being a stellar Beta! Tell me what you think!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans, @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @the-freak-cassie-131, @wardl0w, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @kaatelyyynn, @badassbaker, @mrsaugustwalker, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @bellastellaluna, @wondersofdreaming, @thisisntmyrightera, @michelle-1185, @winchwm, @royallylazy, @sofiebstar, @worldicreate, @agniavateira, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @witches-of-discovery-a, @xuxszx, @ayamenimthiriel, @keiva1000, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @itsreigns, @constip8merm8, @scorpionchild81, @mylifefallingupthestairs, @onlyhenrys, @luclittlepond, @ellixthea, @lebguardians, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier, @cherrybloomn, @p3nny4urth0ught5, @iloveyouyen, @hollydaisy23, @mcuimagination, @psychosupernatural, @sweetlybigdragonn, @whitewolfandthefox, @moviemonzy, @the-soot-sprite, @hell1129-blog, @trippedmetaldetector, @captaingothgirl1996, @dont8mind8me8eue, @peaky-marvel, @desperate-and-broken21, @monstersnmoney, @dancingwendigo, @redhot-mystacism, @thereisa8ella, @black-ninja-blade, @oddduckthatgirl, @rosewinx, @henrythickcavill, @tinabean37, @hnryycvll, @msblkfire84, @romangenesius, @emelinelovesjc, @strangerliaa, @lovieebby, @pinksdaydream, @fanfictionaddiction99, @seb-owns-these-tatas, @oh-for-fic-sake, @sauvage-et-libre, @mis-lil-red, @angreav, @crazyandanonymous4u, @the-mighty-jellybean @henrycavell, @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair, @iam-laiya, @worshipping-skarsgard, @thetruthandotherstories, @ruthoakenshield, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss, @theonetheycallhannah, @nina-skyee, @thatgirly81, @inanna999, @suueeeeeee, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8, @beckster07890, @daddys-littlewhitegirl, @magic-and-the-macabre, @stxphmxlls, @radaofrivia, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss, @starstruckkittyangel, @heartfelt-pen

Clark carefully set up the Sol-Gel Chamber inside the Fortress of Solitude.

He stood over Calea in the Gel, the beat of her heart had grown stronger as time progressed, giving him hope that she was going to recover. Running his hands through his hair, Clark had one of the Kryptonian Bots watch over her, while he went to secure the rest of the Fortress.

He wasn't gone long, when Calea thrashed in the Gel and sat up, ripping the mask off her face and looking at the bot, startled. Climbing out of the Chamber, Calea pressed her back against the wall and glanced around her foreign surroundings. The Bot made a beeping whirl sound and the door of the room opened, revealing a startled and excited Clark.

“Calea!”

“Clark!” She relaxed seeing him. “Where the hell am I?” She asked, eyeing the Bot.

“The Fortress of Solitude.” He replied, dismissing the Bot out of the room.

“Why?” Calea asked, eyes panning around.

“Well, I just felt it would be safer for you.” He admitted, his face slightly warm. “So, I brought you and the Sol-Gel Chamber here.”

“Where's Ryder?”

“I don't know.” He frowned, then rushed forward, grabbing her as her knees gave out. “You're still weak.” He whispered, picking her up in his arms. “What were you thinking, drinking that Para-Demon's blood, Calea?” He asked, carrying her out of the Chamber he set the Sol-Gel up in.

“I was thinking, I wanted to find out what he was looking for.” Calea replied, resting her cheek against his shoulder, exhausted. “Ryder's going to kill you, when he finds us.”

Clark chuckled. “I doubt that.” He smiled, carrying her down a long hallway. “Unless he has Kryptonite, which I highly doubt, since there isn't any more, and I'm the only one that knows where we are.” He explained to her, stepping in front of another door before it opened. “This is the only bedroom I have, but I don't have to sleep, unless I want to or my brain is exhausted, so you can have it.” He told her, setting her down on his bed.

“There's a bathroom right there.” He motioned to a secondary door. “I'm sure you'll want to wash the Gel off. Um..” Clark frowned, seeing her soiled clothing and stepped into the space he used as a closet and pulled a shirt and pair of pajama bottoms off the hangers. “You can wear these, until we can get your clothes clean.” He offered, setting the shirt and bottoms on the bed beside her.

“Thank you.” Calea replied, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

Nodding, Clark stepped out to give her privacy to fix herself up. Calea stood up and glanced around his room, before going into the bathroom. The water was cold as she stepped under the spray of the shower head, shivering. But, she didn't mind, she just wanted to wash up and get her mind straight. The Para-Demon, Kulas's blood had shown her what had happened to her people, the death of her father, the apparent fact that Steppenwolf was looking for more than just the Mother Boxes; the League was correct in that assumption. Calea knew what it was Steppenwolf was looking for, but had no clue where they were hidden. She leaned her forehead against the shower wall, water cascading down her shivering back as tears mixed with the water droplets dripping from her hair, turning cold as they fell from her cheeks and down the spiraling drain.

Sniffling and turning off the tap, Calea pulled a towel off a rack built into the wall and dried off. Slipping on the clothing Clark so generously provided for her and stepped up to the door, glancing around it for a moment before it opened. Peeking down both sides of the hallway, Calea picked a direction and followed it around a bend and down a corridor with three displays on either side that held an outfit, Superman's outfits. One looked like a set of armor, another was the normal Superman outfit Clark wore and the other was black and silver.

“It's my regeneration suit.” Clark's voice echoed to her. “It helps me recover, when I've been injured.”

“Or come back from the dead.” She smiled at him.

“That too.” He smiled back, then held up a bag that was in his hand. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

Smiling more, Clark took Calea down to the foyer area of the Fortress, the windows there open and looking out over the frozen tundra of the Antarctic. There was a modest table there, as well as the statues of Clark's birth parents, Jor-El and Lara. Calea studied them, while Clark pulled the take-away boxes out of the bag, she could see Clark in both of them, his father's nose and jawline, his mother's eyes and cheekbones, both of them looked beautiful, even carved out of stone, she could sense they had been good people.

“So, there's Chinese take-out in the Antarctic, I'll have to give them one hell of a Yelp review.” She giggled, sitting down at the table with him.

“Ah, well.” Clark chuckled, grinning like mad. “I don't have a kitchen here. So, I just popped over to New Zealand to get something.” He explained to her, picking up his chopsticks. “Do you need to eat?” He asked, popping a snow pea in his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Calea replied, helping herself to the chicken dumplings.

“Well, I don't technically need to eat, or sleep.” He explained, after swallowing. “I get my energy from the Sun. Though, I do sometimes get mentally tired and a good nap does the trick.”

Calea rested back against her chair, pondering his question as she chewed her dumpling. “I don't, can't, eat, while in the Sol-Gel, but it still gives me the type of nourishment I need to survive. I've never tried not eating, while I was out of it. We can go without sleep, if we want too. But, I rather enjoy sleeping, the days don't seem so long, when you sleep.”

“That's true.” he agreed, nodding. “I like doing both, food tastes a lot better than the Sun.” He joked, making Calea roar with laughter. “I haven't been sleeping much though, I don't even know why I keep doing it, knowing I don't have to and I'll just end up having nightmares.”

“When you make a habit of something, they tend to be hard to break.” She sighed, glancing out the windows. “What is this place?” She asked.

“My Fortress of Solitude.” He replied, looking out at the snow and ice swept landscape. “It was a Kryptonian Scouting Ship my father, Jor-El, sent a long time ago to find out if they could use it as an outpost and a place of refuge.” He explained to her. “The Humans found it in the Arctic a few years ago. When I heard about it, I found a way into the group that was studying it and checked it out.”

“That's when I learned who I really was, where I came from and how I got here. So, I took it and brought it here to the Antarctic, away from everyone and everything.”

“Well, even Superman needs a vacation from the world every once in a while.” She assured him with a sweet smile. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I don't know.” He answered. “I was just going to let you be back at your place, but I-” He shook his head, he'd been trying to rationalize his choice in taking Calea to the Fortress since the compulsive idea came over him. “I just didn't feel like you were safe there, even with my being with you.”

“That place has been a safe haven for me for a very long time. No one has ever found it, without being told here it is.”

“I know.” He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “It just felt safer with you here.”

“With you.” She teased him, nudging her knee against his.

“Maybe.” Clark rubbed at his neck and didn't meet her eye.

“Where in Romania was that swarm of Para-Demons?” She asked, after a short silence.

“North of a mine called Rosia Poieni.” He replied, finishing off his egg rolls.

“Would you show me?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Um..” Clark frowned, wiping his mouth and getting up. “Follow me.”

Clark led the way to a study-like room and up to a console whose monitor was made of Liquid Geo. Typing on the console, the Geo changed and solidified into an Earth shaped orb. The Geo trembled for a moment, then changed shape again, this time showing the country of Romania.

“The Mine is here.” Clark said, pointing to the west of Romania. “And the sight of Steppenwolf's Para-Demons was here.”

“Seems terribly random.” Calea frowned, shaking her head. “What is it?” She frowned, seeing the change in Clark's expression.

“There's trouble.” He said, striding out of the room. “Stay here, I'll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Well, being Superman, that should be faster than I can blink.” Calea deadpanned, smirking at him.

Calea made sure Clark was well and gone, before taking one final look at the map, going back to his room and changing into her now dry clothing. With a deep breath, picturing the place in her mind, and with a crackle of energy, Calea was gone.

It was dark, when Calea suddenly appeared in the forest to the north of the Rosia Poieni mine. There were still rotting Para-Demon bodies littering the ground, the smell, even in the chilly night air, was like an overripe garbage dump in hundred degree heat, it made Calea's nose wrinkle and her face twist. She picked her way through their bodies, pushing some aside, looking for any clues to their reason for being here, but had no more luck than the others. Sighing, she moved through the treeline, towards the edge of the mining pit. The old copper mine was almost a mile wide and half a mile deep, before it started branching out into mine shafts.

“What are you doing, Steppenwolf.” She muttered to herself, scanning the deep crater and leaned forward as she saw a twinkle of light for a moment, in the deepest part of the pit.

“Hm.”

Narrowing her eyes, Calea hopped down several of the rows leading down into the pit, jumping down two and three at time, before skirting around until she was closer to the source. Her ears picked up the sound of movement further below, and knew it couldn't be Humans, it was too dark for them to be mining this late at night. Tipping her head back and sniffing at the air, Calea still smelled the stench of dead Para-Demons, but also caught the scent of living Para-Demons. Growling, she descended the rest of the way, making sure to be quiet and keep down wind so they didn't scent her out.

Coming around and crouching down, Calea saw three Para-Demons standing around the opening to one of the mine shafts, guarding it and whatever was inside of it. Glancing upward, Calea noticed that the shaft lined up with where the League battled the swarm of Para-Demons earlier.

“They were standing on it.” She whispered, shocked.

Biting her lip, Calea slowly eased into the direction of the Para-Demons, wanting to get as close to them as possible before attacking, so any other Para-Demons in the area wouldn't be fully alerted to her presence until it was too late. She was only a few yards from them, when the wind shifted directions, blowing against her back and towards the Para-Demons, warning them instantly to Calea's vicinity. Making the most of it, Calea zoomed forward, her powers already reaching their peak, as she grabbed the closest Para-Demon to her.

Electricity crackled down Calea's arms and flowed into the Para-Demon's body as she gripped it by the arm and throat. It trembled and twitched as the high voltage electricity coursed through it, before she tossed it aside and took on the remaining two. She hissed as one of them swiped at her, claws catching her cheek as she tried to duck out of the way. Dropping to a squat and twisting, Calea kicked the Para-Demon's legs out from under it and smashed her fist through its skull.

“Killing your own kind, youngling?” A raspy voice asked as Calea killed the last Para-Demon.

“Steppenwolf.”

She hissed, dripping the creature's body and turning around to face him. “They're not my kind, not any longer. You and Darkseid saw to that.” She growled at him, shaking, as all her pent up power reached a fevered pitch.

“They should have given me what I wanted, I would have let them live.” Steppenwolf replied, smirking.

“That's a damned lie and you know it.”

Steppenwolf shrugged, the smug smile on his lips never faltering. “Perhaps you'll be more intelligent than the rest of your Race and tell me where what I seek has been hidden.”

“How am I supposed to know where they've been hidden? I was a baby, when my People took them from you and Darkseid.” Calea spat venomously. “Even if I did know where they were, I sure as hell wouldn't tell the likes of you.”

“Stubborn, just like your father.” He laughed at her. “But, no matter. Soon, I will find where you Selians have hidden them on this pitiful rock and with Mother's help, it will be glorious.” He smirked as a beam of light came down over him and teleported him away.

The bright light left spots in Calea's eyes as the dark night filled the mining pit again, but she didn't let it deter her. Turning on her heels, she stepped over the dead Para-Demons and into the mine they were guarding, doubting there were anymore inside, knowing they would have come out already if there were.

Eyes glowing that electric blue and aiding Calea to see in the pitch black shaft, she glanced around and saw nothing out of the ordinary for a mine; scraped and rough walls and ceiling, the dirt floor strewn with bits of rock, metal rails to carry out loads of rock and cooper, and bits of scrap from blasting deeper into the Earth. It smelled of damp gravel and Earth, musty, with the metallic ting of copper, the lingering scent of sweaty bodies and petrol, from the generators powering the string of lights along the hewn walls and sump-pumps, to clear out the patches of stagnant water. There was also the lingering, but noticeable scent of Para-Demons, they had been down here at some point recently, telling Calea that she was heading in the right direction.

She stopped, coming to a Y-shaped fork in the shaft and sighed, one of the shafts was blocked off with a barricade. So, taking a couple steps into the shaft to the left and taking a couple of whiffs, she turned around and went back to the blocked off shaft. Leaning over the barricade and picking up the Para-Demon scent again, she pushed the barricade aside and started in, she could feel the shaft start to angle more sharply downward, the air around her growing chilly and thick. Something about this shaft felt drastically different from the others, and not just in temperature and atmosphere, it made Calea's skin ripple with goosebumps and a shiver raced down her spine, it felt foreboding and somehow older than the surrounding area.

The deeper Calea went the rougher the shaft became, like they started to mine it, but gave up for some reason, blocking it off to prevent anyone from going down it again. The walls and ceiling looked safe and stable enough, there were clear lines of copper in the walls, so it wasn't lacking valuable resources that would prevent them from wanting to continue on with it, confusing Calea to why they would stop and hole it up.

It wasn't until she hit the dead end of the shaft that she saw what it was that possibly stopped their continued excavation.

Where the rough shaft ended, a small chamber opened up. It was wide enough for her fingertips to touch the walls with her outstretched arms and tall enough for her to fully stand up. The walls and ceiling were perfectly squared and smooth, or at first glance, they looked smooth. A closer look revealed there were markings on the walls, nothing Human either.

“Holy fuck.” She gasped, recognizing them.

“Calea, I'm back.”

Clark called, entering the Fortress after saving a large group of people from an apartment fire in London. “Calea?” He called out again, when he didn't get an answer. “Shit.” He snapped, seeing the Liquid Geo still up in the shape of Romania.

Keeping his black and silver suit on, in case there was a need to get in a fight, Clark made his way over to the mine. Searching around, he spotted the dead Para-Demons at the entrance of a shaft and took the clue. Clark caught the scent of his body wash Calea used to get clean and her own unique smell, and picked his way through the mine until he came to the fork and the shoved aside barricade. He heard the quick pounding of her heart and breathing at the end of the shaft and wasted no time getting to the end of it.

“Calea?” He called out to her, his voice echoing back.

“Clark?” Her voice echoed in reply.

“What are you doing down here?” He asked, looking around the strange room.

“Looking for answers.” She replied, fingers tracing the symbols on the wall in front of her.

Clark frowned and stepped up behind her. “What are these?” He asked, looking at the symbols over her head.

“Original Solean.” She replied and leaned closer to one of the symbols, so worn, it was almost unrecognizable.

“What?” He snapped, looking down at her.

“You heard me.” She snorted, sliding over to the next column of symbols. “Steppenwolf is looking for two things that go with the Mother Boxes. Well, one thing that goes with the Mother Boxes and another that can destroy the Mother Boxes.” She explained to him.

“My People took the two objects not long after Darkseid had them made, hoping they would weaken him, then hid them somewhere here on Earth. But, obviously, that didn't work because he had the Mother Boxes made.”

“What are the two objects?” Clark asked, a crease between his brows.

“One is a Key that's supposed to unlock the full power of the Unity and the second is another Box, of some sort.” She answered, then growled. “I can hear my mother yelling at me for not paying closer attention to my tutor, on early Selian history.” She huffed, arms dropping to her sides in defeat.

“That Para-Demon's blood told you this?”

“Not exactly.” She told him, rubbing her face. “It showed me the day Steppenwolf invaded Selion and killed everyone, my parents included. He killed my father, who killed someone else about to tell Steppenwolf where these objects were. In full retaliation of what my Father did, Steppenwolf had the entirety of Selion turned into Para-Demons, and after he left, my mother told one of her Servants what it was he was looking for, but not where to find them.”

“But, you're sure they're here on Earth?”

“If Steppenwolf is searching Earth for them, they have to be here and this room is proof of that much.” She replied, motioning around the room.

“What is it?” Clark frowned, watching a light bulb turn on in her eyes.

“Lore.” She said softly, eyes panning around the room. “That's what this room is telling. The Lore of Selians colonizing Earth, seven thousand years ago.” Her head and eyes snapped up to Clark. “The Key and Box aren't in this room, but it tells the Lore of how Selians started living on Earth. That's what he's doing, why it's taking him so long to start the Unity.”

“He's scouring the Lore of the Selian-Humans, hoping to find a mention of the Key and Box in one of the stories.”

“Then, we have to beat him to it.” Clark said, sharing her frenzy.

“I have to get to the Heart.” She said, antsy.

“The what?”

“I'll explain it, when we get there.” Calea replied, holding out her hand. “Take my hand.”

Without hesitation, Clark took Calea's hand and felt the pop of electricity at their touch, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and in a flash, they blinked out of the mine and appeared inside a rather large space ship.

“The Heart.” Calea smiled, motioning to the space around them. “This is the ship Ryder and I arrived on Earth in.” She explained and let out a low whistle, making lights around the craft slowly turn on, showing off the hanger they were standing in.

“Where is this hidden?” Clark asked, looking around.

“Somewhere under Manhattan, I think.” She replied, frowning. “It's been a very long time since I've visited here without teleporting, and so much has changed since we hid it. It was the Heart of the Selian Eternal Fleet.” She elaborated. “I.E the name for it.”

Pressing her hand to a panel beside a door and opening it, Calea quickly walked down a corridor, the sole of her boots clinking as she went. Clark followed after her, still checking the ship out as they went and entered a second room.

“Your bedroom?” He smirked, it still smelled like her, even after all the time being left dormant.

“Yep.” She smiled back at him, fingertips lighting on the spines of books on a shelf by her bed. “There you are.” She chimed, pulling a thick book off the shelf and walking backwards until she could sit down on her bed.

“The Lore of Selians and Earth.”

Clark sat down beside her, tilting his head at the book as she flipped it open. “Do you have any idea where to look?”

“Not even the slightest.” She laughed, scanning the index. “Hm.” She frowned and got up again, pulling another book off the shelf.

“The battle of Apokolips.” Clark read out loud. “The third war?” He frowned at Calea.

“Selians and Apokoliptians have been battling each other ever since they believed we were abandoning our birthright as Rulers of the Universe, being the first Race. It was the third war, the War of Power, that my Grandfather died and my Father became King. Then, a few years later, the War for Earth took place.” She told him, opening the book.

“Ah, here we go.” She said, finding the chapter she was looking for and started reading it to Clark. “It was the third war that the Apokoliptians created a Key and Box, in an attempt to defeat the Selians once and for all. But, King Gretan—my Grandfather—sent his best men to Apokolips to stop them before they could prevail, and hoped to use it against the Apokoliptians themselves.”

“Mikel and Tristan,” Gretan said as the two men approached his throne. “Thank you for coming, on such short notice.”

“Of course, my liege.” Mikel replied as they both bowed to him. “How can we be of service?”

“It has been brought to the attention of our spies and scouts, that the Apokoliptians have created two objects that could bring about our destruction. We must get our hands on these objects, so we can prevent them from being used.” Gretan explained to them.

“I'm sending you both to Apokolips, to steal these devices and bring them back here for safe-keeping.”

“We will get ready right away, my liege.” Tristan assured him.

“Excellent.” Gretan replied and nodding his head, dismissed them.

Tristan and Mikel left as soon as they were able, not wishing to lose any time, knowing that the Apokoliptians weren't wasting time either. Arriving at a safe zone in Apokolips and meeting up with a spy and scout, Mikel and Tristan learned where to find the objects they were tasked with obtaining.

“I must warn you.” The scout said, being frank with them. “One of our scouts has already tried infiltrating the lab they are located in. He was captured, interrogated and killed.” He told them, bluntly.

Mikel and Tristan exchanged expressions, but steeled themselves. They couldn't, and wouldn't, let their King and People down. Getting the rest of the report, a layout of the lab, surrounding areas and whatever else the scout and spy had to tell them, Tristan and Mikel made their way towards their destination. They stayed low and skirted around buildings, narrowly escaping notice a few times as they made it inside the perimeter of the city outside the safe zone. Finding an empty building to hide in, Mikel pulled out the map provided for them and found where they were in relation to it and where the laboratory was in relation to them.

“We're two klicks away from the lab.” Mikel said, pointing to the red dot that marked the lab they were making their way towards. “There's two security checks between us and it, not to count the tight security they have around the lab, especially after the first attempt to steal what's inside said lab.”

“Do we know what we're looking for, exactly?” Tristan asked, studying the map.

“According to our intelligence, they're the only things in the lab.” Mikel answered, rubbing at his tired face. “So, they shouldn't be that hard to spot.”

“Or carry, all we need is something to slow us down.”

The knob to the room they were crouched in started to rattle. Quickly hiding the map and melding into the dark shadows of the room as the door opened, Mikel and Tristan watched the Apokoliptian enter the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Holding their breaths and waiting for the opportune moment, Tristan took a silent step out of the shadows and up behind him, swiftly wrapping his arm around the Apokoliptian's neck and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle any sounds he might make, and snapped his neck. Gently easing him to the floor, Mikel searched his pockets and found a passkey, smiling at Tristan as he held it up.

“That solves some of our access problems.” Tristan chuckled, making sure the Apokoliptian didn't have anything else of interest on his body.

“Come on.” He whispered, moving to the door.

Listening through the door for a few moments, then slowly opening it, Tristan and Mikel carefully sneaked down along the wall of the building, checking the walkway around the corner and continued on. They made their way to a wall between them and the middle area of the city. While Tristan worked on getting them through the wall, Mikel kept watch for any Apokoliptians that might catch them. Tristan removed a black kit from his pocket and pulled out a pen-like object, pressing the tip of it to the wall and turned it on. He moved the pen in an arch, just wide and tall enough for them both to squeeze through, the tip of the pen cutting through the thick wall like butter. Putting the pen and kit back in his pocket and kicking the cut out free, Tristan motioned for Mikel to go first, watching his back as he did, then followed after him.

Mikel motioned to the left of them and led the way to their next checkpoint, narrowly getting caught in the process. Tristan gave him a frustrated look and Mikel rolled his eyes, then continued on their way. Taking back ways, deserted streets and hiding in hidden nooks and deep doorways as their enemies passed by. Making it to the last wall in their way to the direct center of the city, that contained all the important and top secret dealings of Apokolips, they pulled out of their map for one more check of the lab's location and readied themselves for whatever they might encountered in the extraction of their mission.

“May Primian protect us.” Mikel whispered, touching the pad of his first two fingers to the space between his eyebrows.

“Who's Primian?” Clark asked, interrupting her reading.

“Primian was the first Selian to become a Prime.” Calea replied, looking up from the page. “That's why we're called Primes; it's a play on his name. He became a bit of a God to us.”

“Ah.” He nodded, understanding.

Prepared, Mikel and Tristan breached the last wall and felt the air around them change, thickening with the very real danger they were now in, that they were in the last and most critical stage of their mission. Picking their way through the buildings and walkways towards the laboratory, they used the passkey and found it gave them access to the lab.

The lab was like any lab, bright and clean smelling, but the instruments in it weren't anything you would find in an ordinary lab. Mikel and Tristan split up, looking for what they had come for, checking everything in the room, before Tristan found a door to a side room and went inside.

“Mik.” He called over his shoulder, his eyes glued to what was in the room with him.

“What?” Mikel answered, popping up behind him and looking over his shoulder. “That has to be them.” He said, eye catching what Tristan had found.

“A Box and what the hell is that with it?” Tristan echoed, stepping closer.

It was a circular three inch long by an inch thick, solid bar of silver-like metal with a strange symbol at the top of it. Tristan reached out and picked it up off the stand it was resting on, inspecting it closer, while Mikel looked over the box that sat beside it. He turned it around, checking all of the side and noticed a hole at the top of the box that was the exact size and shape of the bar Tristan was holding in his hand.

“It's a Key of some sort.” Mikel said, showing Tristan the hole in the Box.

“Does it open the Box?” Tristan asked, frowning.

“Don't.” Mikel hissed as Tristan tried inserting the Key. “We don't know what this thing does, and I'd rather not find out in a confined space.”

Tristan nodded and opened a satchel he had been carrying and slipped the key into the inside pocket. “Quickly, let's get going before anyone comes.”

Holding the satchel open, Mikel slipped the Box in and fastened the flap closed. Making a sweep of the room to ensure they didn't miss anything important, Mikel and Tristan left the lab and started retracing their steps back out of the city and to their ship off the planet. They weren't halfway to the wall, when a series of alarms went off.

“Well, that's our cue!” Mikel snapped and started running.

Running with him, Tristan caught the glimpse of Apokoliptians running back and forth in a frenzy, trying to figure out what the alerts were for. They were mere feet from the opening in the wall they made, when one Apokoliptian guard noticed them and shouted to his fellows. Pulling off the satchel, Tristan tossed it to Mikel, who sent it sliding through the hole in the wall and dove after it, sliding through the hole like a player to home base. Turning on his hands and knees, Mikel looked back at Tristan, waiting for him to come through next.

Tristan ducked down to dive through the opening, as a shot rang out, the air stilled after the reverberation wore off. Time slowed to a stop, while Mikel watched a burst of blood spray out from Tristan's side, his pained cry breaking the silence and stillness, a cloud of black dust rising around him as he fell to the ground.

“Tris!”

Scrambling back through, Mikel grabbed Tristan's hand and dragged him through the wall opening, pushing him over onto his back and pressed his hands to the gaping wound on Tristan's right side. Tristan coughed, spots of blood covering his ashen face, he looked up at Mikel. His breathing slowed, his heart pounding, his skin cooled under the press of Mikel's hands and sweat broke out on his forehead.

“You have to go, Mikel.” Tristan coughed again.

“No, not without you.” He shook his head.

“Yes.” Tristan replied, raising a heavy arm and touched cold fingertips to Mikel's cheek. “Do you remember, when I hit you over the head with my sword?” He asked, his pale green eyes glassy.

“I tried to kiss you.” Mikel nodded, looking behind at the scrape of metal as the gateway in the wall creaked slowly open. “But, I only ended up with a lump on my head, for a week.”

Tristan cupped Mikel's cheek in his shaking hand. “You can kiss me now, then you must leave.” He told him, gently. “Please, Mikel.” He begged him, gripping his shoulder.

Shoulders slumping, Mikel removed his hands from the wound and cupped his face, smearing blood all over him, and leaned in. His trembling lips met Tristan's pale cold ones, tears dripping onto him as they kissed. When Mikel pulled away he saw the glassy vacancy in Tristan's eyes and let out a heart breaking wail as he dragged himself to his feet, picking up the bag with the Box and Key, slinging it over his body and stumbled forward, willing himself not to look back to Tristan, knowing he would never make it, if he did.

“Mikel was able to make it back to Selion with the Key and Box.” Calea read, fingertips following the sentences on the page. “King Gretan had a mighty room to contain the Key and Box, but at King Gretan's death, Crown Prince Calien feared, with the creation of the Mother Boxes and Steppenwolf traversing through the Universe with them on a rampage, that they would no longer be safe in the chamber. So, he hid them elsewhere.”

“That's when he must have sent them to Earth.” Clark said, turning his head to look at her.

“It must be.” Calea replied, turning her head and gasped as their lips accidentally brushed. “I'm so-”

Clark cupped Calea's neck and pressed his lips to hers, his body leaning into hers. Calea paused, the press of Clark's warm lips against hers was confusing for a moment, it had been a long time since she had been kissed. The charge they always generated surged down their spines and Calea kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressed in closer to him, allowing him to deepen their kiss. She moaned at the feel of his tongue running along her bottom lip, before slowly slipping into her mouth, mingling their tastes, rolling her tongue against his, pushing it back for access to his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Clark pulled her into his lap, needing her closeness. Calea ran her hands through his curls, smirking at how soft they were, shifting she straddled his lap and pressed their chests together. Clark frowned, hearing the tone of her moan change and pulled back, searching her face.

“What's wrong, Calea?” He whispered, watching her heart start to pound in her chest.

“My head hurts.” She sighed, the edge of her vision swam and pulsed, a high frequency hum in her ears. “A lot.”

“Cause we kissed.” He gulped, licking his lips.

“No, this is something else.” She groaned, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“Tell me what to do?” He begged her, rubbing her back.

“It'll pass.” She said softly, already feeling it start too.

“Has that ever happened before?” Clark asked, relaxing as he heard her heart calm.

“Once or twice in my life.” She replied, relaxing against his solid body. “It passes as quickly as it happens.”

“Maybe, you should rest.” He suggested, twisting to the side and laid her down, carefully covering her up. “You're probably still weak.”

Calea caught his hand as he stood up. “Stay with me?”

“I'm not going anywhere.” He smiled at her, gently squeezing her hand, then waved his hand in front of the sensor by the door, like Calea had when they walked in, turning the lights off.

Spotting a chair, Clark pulled it up beside Calea's bed and picked up The Lore of Selians and Earth that still sat on the edge of her bed, flipping open its cover. His fingertips ghosting over the table of contents, then flipped several chapters in, stopping at a chapter titled: the Creation of Man.

It started seven thousand years ago, it stated, when a group of Selians arrived on what would later be named Earth, three men and three women. They found the planet purely by accident, but finding the water, land and atmosphere habitable and yielding, they decided to stay. Each of the couples went their separate ways, knowing in order to forge new lives on Earth, they would need to separate and sow their oats from different corners. At first, they would return to their landing area and reunite, sharing their growths and changes, their strives and failures. But, the more their societies grew the harder the pilgrimage became, more and more time came between the meetings until the meeting point was forgotten, as well as the reason for the meeting.

Selians had forgotten who they had once been to each other, family and friends. As time progressed they lost all memory of their home world and their abilities as Selians, they became the first Humans. When their paths crossed they would bicker and war, claiming their beliefs and lands were better than the others, forming the Tribes of Men.

A thousand years later, a ship arrived to these Tribes, demanding the objects their ancestors brought with them upon their arrival to Earth. But, none of the Tribes could tell these strange beings where these objects were, let alone what they were.

“You have forgotten your History, your People.”

“No, we made our own History and People.” One of the Humans spat at their feet. “If your People are so advanced why do you not know where they've hidden these things?”

“Because, you were tasked with protecting them and you failed.” the Selian hissed back.

“Not any longer.”

Enraged, the Selians washed their hands of the Humans and went on their way to try and find the ship the original Selians came to Earth in and should have the objects they seek hidden at. They sought out any clues they could find, leading them all over the lands the Tribes of Men occupied. They would find clues here and there to the possible origin of the craft. An old legend spoke of a place that homed large populations of vicious dogs and giant brown furred creatures, leading them to the Carpathian Mountains. Another legend told of a country surrounded by mountains with none of its own and numerous bodies of water. But, the Tribes of Men never found out if the Selians found what they sought, for Steppenwolf arrived on Earth and all efforts were turned in stopping his rampage.

An alarm started screaming through the ship, startling Calea upright and out of bed. Stumbling through the door of her bedroom and through the winding halls, Clark followed after her.

“Sec, shut off the alarms!” She yelled out in Solean and growled when the noise kept sounding. “Sec, for fuck sake!” She huffed, waving her hand in front of a sensor and stepping into the control room of the ship.

“Sec?” Clark frowned, glancing around. “You named the ship, Sec.”

“Selian Eternal Craft, Sec.” Calea replied, dropping into a seat and working various things on the console until the alarm turned off. “Sec?”

“My Lady?” The Craft replied.

“What's with all the noise?” She asked, leaning back in her seat.

“Alien life detected.”

Calea snorted and rolled her eyes. “Which Alien life, Sec? Mine, his or everything Human on this planet?”

“Six kilometres above our current location.” Sec replied.

Clark and Calea exchanged looks. “Show me.”

A light at the top of the console came on and a wide screen was projected from it, showing where the ship was, the surface and a blinking red dot that was steadily getting closer.

“Identify.” She said, swiveling in her chair to reach another console.

“Scanning.”

“What can I do?” Clark asked, watching her get up and go out of the room for a moment.

“Currently?” Calea's voice echoed to him. “Nothing, unless you can tell me what the fucking is digging through almost four miles of bedrock to a craft no one, but me, Ryder and now you should know about.”

“Couldn't it just be Ryder?”

“If it was, Sec would have told me it was Ryder, he's designed to identify us. So, if it says 'alien life form' it's assuredly not Ryder.” She replied, coming back into the room.

“Scan complete.”

“Spit it out then.”

“Semi-organic life form.”

“Semi?” Calea frowned, lifting a quizzical brow. “What's the non-organic part?”

“Technological.” Sec replied with a beep.

Calea frowned at Clark, head tilting to the side. “Victor?”

“He is half Human and half Cyborg.” Clark nodded, frowning at the rapidly approaching dot.

“Sec, full security measures until I say otherwise.” Calea said, getting up. “Stay here.” She tossed over her shoulder, going back down to her room.

Going into her closet, Calea pulled out several articles of clothing and stripped out of the clothes she had been wearing. Sighing, she slipped on the clothing she pulled out, securing a set of buckles at her thighs, waist and torso, before going back to join Clark, seeing the object was almost on them. Clark looked Calea over in her new outfit and got a Cyberpunk vibe from her, smirking.

“What?” She frowned, catching him out the corner of her eye.

“Nothing.” He grinned, guilty. “You look good.”

“Thanks.” She blushed, shaking her head at him.

“Object arrival, one minute.” Sec chimed.

Drumming her fingers against the console and biting her lip, Calea shook her head. “Remove the security measures and open the hatch.” She ordered, pushing off the console and going to the back of the ship.

“What if it isn't Victor?” Clark asked, keeping in stride with her.

“Then, we kill it.” She snorted, smirking at him as the hatch opened, revealing the massive cavern the ship was housed in, stepping off the ramp.

Clark tensed as he stepped off the ramp after her, readying himself for anything that was about to happen. The minute ticked by and the rumble through the cavern echoed off its stone walls, rock falling and breaking apart on the roof of the ship, before whoever it was finally broke through. Clark relaxed, vision honing in.

“It is Victor.”

“How did he find us.” Calea frowned, shaking her head.

“Clark?” Victor's voice echoed out to them. “Calea?”

“What are you doing here?” Clark asked, looking him over.

“I could ask you the same.” Victor replied.

“We asked first.” Calea answered, lifting a brow at him.

“I received a reading here, about an hour ago.” Victor explained to them. “I thought it was something to do with the Mother Boxes.”

“Nothing here, but us and the ship.” Calea replied, glancing around. “There's nothing that should give off a reading like that, unless Steppenwolf has brought the Boxes into the city above.”

“I've already checked that, there's nothing, that's why I came down here.”

“Has there been any other sign of Steppenwolf and the Para-Demons?” Clark asked.

“None, so far.” Victor shook his head. “What are you guys doing down here?”

“This is a Selian ship.” Calea told him, motioning to it. “The one Ryder and I arrived on Earth in. We came here looking for answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Calea looked up at Clark, who nodded at her. “We should return to the Hall, I'll explain it to everyone there.” She told him with a sigh. “And Victor?”

“Yeah?” He lifted his only brow at her.

“Please, cover up the hole you made.” She smirked at him.

He smirked back and nodded his head. “Will do.”

“Go, I'll meet you there.” Calea told Clark, touching his wrist.

“Bu-”

“I have to secure the ship, I'll be fine.” She assured him, pushing up on her toes and kissed his cheek, a lopsided smirk on her face at Victor's shocked expression. “Off you go, Superman. You don't have to worry about this Damsel always being in distress.” She teased him.

“The world out there needs you too.”

“If you're sure.” Clark sighed, tilting his face down closer to hers.

“I'm positive.” She assured him, squeezing his arm and heading back inside the ship. “Sec, close the hatch.” She said, not looking back over her shoulder to Clark.

“Where have the two of you been?” Victor asked as Clark met up with him.

“Around.” Clark answered, looking through the pinprick of light in the ceiling above them.

“Ryder is pissed with you, by the way.” He told him. “So, expect an earful when we get back to the Hall.”

Clark frowned back at the ship, biting the inside of his lip, then shook his head and took off through the opening Victor had made. Calea paced the control area of the ship and ran her hands through her hair, mind racing. How was a Mother Box signal produced in the same area as the ship? There shouldn't be any type of that technology on the ship.

“Sec, full scan the ship. Inform me of any abnormalities.”

“Right away, my Lady.” Sec replied and started the scan. “Scan complete.”

“Well?” Calea sighed, leaning against the console.

“No abnormalities found.”

“What the fuck!” Calea roared, slamming her hand down on the console. “Why can't anything ever make sense.” She mumbled, dropping limply into the command chair behind her, rubbing at her temples. “Sec, maintain all security measures.”

“Security on full.”

“Good, thank you.” She sighed, rubbing her face and pushing up out of the chair.

“Where did you take her?” Ryder demanded as Clark entered the Hall of Justice. “And where is she now?”

“Where I took her, is my private business.” Clark replied, undaunted by him. “And where she is, is where she wants to be. She'll be here, momentarily.”

“She better be.”

“You know, I'm a grown ass woman.” Calea's voice echoed through the main hall.

“A grown woman, who downed Para-Demon blood and almost got herself killed because of it.” Ryder hissed, turning towards her. “Then, kidnapped.”

“He didn't kidnap me, you drama queen.” She barked, shaking her head at him. “He saved my life.”

“Then, where did he take you.”

“That's none of your business, and it doesn't fucking mean he kidnapped me, Ryder.” Calea sighed, temples throbbing. “Why are you always like this?”

“I was tasked to protect you.”

“And all you're doing is suffocating me!” She screamed, at her wit's end.

“Let's just calm down.” Diana said, stepping between them. “She's all right and that's all that matters.”

“Did you learn anything?” Bruce asked, looking between Clark and Calea.

“Several things.” Calea replied, eyeballing Ryder.

“Then, let's go discuss them.” Bruce said, motion towards the round table.

The group sat around the table, Alfred brought out various drinks and Calea started to lay out everything that happened since she drank the Para-Demon's blood, while sipping a cup of tea. Clark sat beside her, putting himself between her and Ryder.

“I learned that Steppenwolf is looking for another Box and a Key that goes, not only, with that Box, but also the Mother Boxes.”

“What does the Key do to the Boxes?” Bruce asked, frowning at her.

“I believe the Key makes whatever Box it is in, stronger.” Calea replied with a sigh. “But, this fourth Box, can destroy the Mother Boxes.”

“Well, if it destroys the Mother Boxes, why would Steppenwolf want it?” Diana asked, tilting her head.

“To destroy it?” Calea shrugged. “If he took it out of our hands, we would have one less thing to stop him from using the Mother Boxes. It could also do something even worse than the Mother Boxes, for all we know.”

“Have you had any luck in finding the Key and Box?” Bruce inquired, troubled.

“We, well, Calea, discovered why the Para-Demons were in Romania.” Clark chimed in. “In a mine shaft, directly under where we fought them, was a strange room.” He explained.

“What was in the room?”

“Ancient Solean writings.” Calea picked up. “Part of the Lore of how Selians became Humans and colonized Earth all those years ago.” She took another sip of her tea. “It was then I got the idea that Steppenwolf must be picking through Human-Selian History and Lore, looking for any reference to the Box and Key. Since, when the two were made my Grandfather, Gretan, had them stolen and sealed into a special room.”

“Then, wouldn't they still be on your home planet?”

“Yes, if my Father didn't have them sent here, when Steppenwolf started his rampage through the Universe with the Mother Boxes, fearing that he would come for them next to make himself even more powerful.”

“We were combing through the Lore at the spaceship that Calea and Ryder arrived in, when Victor showed up.” Clark added, glancing at Victory across the table.

“You were at the ship?” Ryder asked, shocked. “You took him to the ship?”

“Victor said, he found a signal that came from the same area, which is how the three of us met up.” Calea continued, ignoring Ryder.

“It was a signal almost similar to the Mother Boxes, but I only found Clark and Calea there.” Victor added, awkwardly glancing at Ryder, whose face was beet red.

“I scanned the ship after they left to return here, but it didn't find anything out of the ordinary.”

Bruce sat back in his chair, rubbing the tips of his fingers into his graying temples. “Is there anything from the Lore you learned to tell us where Steppenwolf could be looking next?”

“Well,” Clark cleared his throat. “I read in one of the books, that a group of Selians arrived here on Earth not long after Humans forgot who they truly were, looking for where their ancestors, the Selians that colonized the planet, had first landed on their arrival, believing that's where this Box and Key were located.” He paraphrased. “I didn't get to finish it, but one of the places they were searching was 'surrounded by mountains, with none of its own, and several bodies of water.' I don't think it said exactly where that is. But, at least it's semi-identifying.”

“Victor, do you think you could find such a place?” Diana asked.

“It would have to be a place no less than six thousand years old.” Calea told him, building on the information. “That's about how long ago it was, when Selians arrived here.”

“I can do some looking around for a place that matches that general description. It might take a hot second.”

“Well, until Steppenwolf makes the next move, we have nothing else we can do.” Bruce groaned, rubbing his scruffy face.

-- Part IV --

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