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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years

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Charred Briar Roses - 3

Curse’s Broken, Now What?

Summary: The title speaks for itself.

Parings: Orc!Bucky x Black!Reader, Orc!Steve x Black!OFC, Orc!Sam x Black!OFC

Word Count: 4,136

Warnings: Implied Smut and Some Violence

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated. Also, the princesses would be a US size 14/15. I totally forgot to mention that earlier. Sorry about that. Enjoy!

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Instead of spending 600 years in total darkness, you communicated with your sisters in a pretty well constructed dream version of the palace. You thought of new inventions and fighting moves, reconciled with Ghada about your fight the day of the curse, and kept analyzing what happened in the north west tower.

If felt like you were in the dream world for about a month.

You were talking with your sisters about trivial childhood memories when all of you felt arms around your bodies. Your surroundings started to fade and so did your sisters.

You felt chapped yet soft lips kiss your neck and lips. It was surprisingly nice, like a dream.

You opened your eyes and realized three things: Someone was actually kissing you, you weren’t in the tower, and the person kissing you wasn’t the prince that your mother had all but assured you but an admittedly hot (albeit ruggedly, your core notes) orc-human hybrid.

You and your sisters screamed.

You immediately try to push him away but he wouldn’t budge. That scared you because both you and your sisters could bench about five tons thanks to Doireann, the war fairy who blessed and trained you in combat since the age of three.

You punched him with a right jab once he broke for air. Couldn’t even get him off the bed.

He chuckled and rubbed his strong jaw and said what seemed to be a compliment in Orcish as you nursed your knuckles.

“I said that you’re quite feisty for a human princess.” He repeated in Common Tongue.

You saw that your sisters had similar reactions to their kissers. Fumnanya even threw a shoe at the one that would be later called Sam. The others got a laugh out of it.

After everyone settled down, we shared our names while you were trying not jump Bucky, the warrior who kissed you.

“So, I was wondering, do you know what year it is?” Fumnanya inquired in a mousy tone that she uses with strangers.

Steve was it, yeah Steve rubbed the back of his head, “How to put this. You’ve been asleep for 600 years. Just about everyone thinks you’re a myth. Hell, we wouldn’t have believed it if we weren’t right in front of you.”

He then provided updates on what happed after your birthdays, but you were only half listening. Your dumb fight with Ghada and your damn curiosity cost you and your sisters your friends, family, and life.

You wanted to cry, but Ghada motioned you to join her and Fumnanya in a huddle. You spoke in Nephrashim as to not alert the warriors.

The three of you knew that Sophronius was up to no good and it was odd that he was still alive since the average lifespan was 300 years due to the Nephrashim Crystal.

“We need to convince them to take us outside of the city since I’m guessing the spell Etna put on us to keep Y/N from skipping class is still in place.”

You rolled your eyes at Ghada snide comment.

“We take what need in whatever storage device Y/N has in her ‘secret workshop’!” Fumnanya chimed in.

“Hey-“

“We all knew where it is, sis. You’re not fooling anyone.” Ghada deadpanned while you huffed in frustration.

With that, the three of you rejoined the group and offered to show them around after you changed your clothes.

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The warrior trio was waiting outside the room for 20 minutes when you and sisters finally emerged from behind the doors. The three of you wore much more comfortable clothing than the extravagant kaftans you wore in your sleep. The clothes also showcased more of your curves and sleek muscles they noted.

“What would you like to do first?” You asked. No sooner had you finished the question that the warrior trio’s stomachs growled like a lion’s roar.

Ghada giggled and together, you led the trio to the main banquet hall.

You and your sisters had a hunch that the food from your 18th birthday celebration was still good. Your hunch was right.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

The hall was filled with food for 900 people. The tables were packed with: huge slabs of Gararagator Steak, roast beef and pork, fried chicken, smoked turkey, grilled and baked fish in sweet brown sauces, curries, pastas, thick stews, enticing side dishes, rich pastries/desserts, and caskets of mead and wine.

The warriors were drooling at the sight and aromas of the feast. So, when Ghada casually said to dig in, they devoured ALL of the food in record time.

You and your sisters managed to get some of the food before it was gone. None of you would admit it, but the three of you were turned on by the ferocity at which they ate and drank.

Once they finished the food and drink, the warrior trio leaned back in their chairs and sighed while they rubbed and patted their bellies followed by a couple of loud, brassy burps and belches.

Fumnanya asked them some trivial questions about life since the curse was activated which they answered in kind, but they got tense when she asked about their mothers.

Ghada, ever the politician, quickly changed the subject by asking if they would like a bath and one of the guest rooms to sleep in for the night.

Bucky was about to respond when you suddenly challenged him to a duel.

A couple of things happened: Fumnanya put her head in her hands, Ghada groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, Sam and Steve burst into laughter, and Bucky accepted with a chuckle.

You led the group to the sparring grounds on the western end of the palace grounds.

Ghada set the ground rules: each combatant may choose a weapon from the low-level, non-lethal weapons closet and the fight could last no longer than 30 minutes.

You both chose Bo Staffs and bowed to start the spar. It took a few minutes of sizing each other up before making the first move. The duel consisted a flurry of punches, kicks, precision strikes with your Bo Staffs, and near hits/misses.

It ended when Bucky spotted a weakness in your left mid-section and landed a hit right above left hip causing you to fall. He then pinned you down before you could grab your weapon with his face two inches above yours.

The two of you were so engrossed in your own little world that Steve had to clear his throat a few times to get your attention.

–––––––––––––––––––

Sensing the, ahem, tension in the area, Ghada suggested that you all finally head over to the baths.

Except for you and Bucky, you took him to your ‘secret workshop’. Something about the way he examined some of the weapons fascinated you and you wanted to explore that.

Bucky was quite dazzled by your variety of inventions like your solar battery, your new hover bike engine, and your 5th attempt at your waning swan (a cross between a scythe and a machine gun). He was examining a pair of your laser blasting gauntlets when you asked if he’d seen some of them before.

“Is there something you like?” you asked while he picked up an old prototype for a flash grenade.

Bucky chuckled, “It’s just that I’ve never seen so many inventions in one place before. When I was an orcling, there was these traveling ‘magician’ who performed feats of wonder for the kids in the village near our settlement. In reality, he was a con artist, but we didn’t care. He would always make our lives seem a little bit brighter. One day, the three of us went behind his tent and found all these contraptions in boxes or on the ground. Tuns out, they were relics of the long gone Nephrashim people. Well, maybe not so long gone now.”

He chuckled to himself again almost bitterly. “I was always entranced by what he would show us and, when he finally fessed up to using relics instead of magic, the contraptions he would use to perform such acts. Sometimes I would wonder what it would’ve been like to live a different life; one where I could’ve been a tinkerer instead of a warrior. Don’t get me wrong, I like being one. It’s just that-”

“You wished you had more options.” You finished noticing how delicately he was holding one of your mithril tools. He held it in a deftness that most of the artisans you’ve met couldn’t match.

His confession of sorts gave you pause.

You always hated how almost everyone gave your sisters praise for their interests and demeanor while you were usually belittled when your parents and Fae tutors weren’t around. They always complained about you not being as sociable as Ghada or as ‘sweet’ (quiet, but not really) as Fumnanya. You were always seen as causing trouble, but you just saw the world differently.

Some days you actually hated being a princess and wished you had a different lot in life.

Maybe this warrior understood you.

Taking another look at him, you realize that underneath this ruggedly delicious beef cake was someone who might’ve been something else altogether. Sure, he seemed proud of his accomplishments when you both were in the dining hall, but part of you wondered what could’ve been his path if he had someone who would’ve taken the time and maybe given him an apprenticeship or something.

You bit your lower lip as you mustered up the strength to ask, “I was wondering, I think I have something I was working on before the curse was cast. Would you like to help with it? I mean, you don’t have to-”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The two of you spent the next two hours working on a few prototypes. Bucky asked you questions about engineering and mechanics especially and you were more than happy to answer. It was nice to have someone outside your sisters, parents, and Fae tutors actually give a crap about what you liked. Neither you nor Bucky realized the distance shrinking in between the two of you until all you could think about was how inviting his lips and neck looked.

Unfortunately, your slowly intimate moment was dashed when Ghada interrupted them via communication mirror telling them to take a bath and go to bed already.

With an annoyed tsk, you took off your work apron, your goggles, and your gloves and motioned Bucky to do the same.

You led him to the baths, a wide yet indoor place with vast pools, man-made hot springs, and an indoor waterfall.

Looking at Bucky your feelings of embarrassment and shame arose once again. Did your ancestors really had to be this obnoxious in flaunting their wealth?

You offered to assist Bucky in washing his hair, but really you wanted to run your hands over his exposed skin.

With his nod of acceptance, you took him to changing rooms and you changed into a Soft Wrap Halter Bikini Top and Rene Fold Bikini Bottom in pale gold, the one that caused a prominent lord to walk into a compost cart due to how well it showcased your curves. Hopefully, it would work on Bucky.

You felt bad using your looks to get Bucky to make a move, but you were so sure that it would be a disaster if you moved first.

The slight shame you felt with your bathing suit quickly faded when you saw Bucky emerge from his changing room.

You cursed yourself because he was only in a loincloth, and DAMN he looked fine! Part of his long hair was pulled back in a high man bun, his shin was a beautiful smooth muted yellow-green with aqua undertones, he was powerfully built with massive shoulders (you thought the lightweight armor did most of the heavy lifting), chiseled pecs, abs, and thighs that you could’ve sworn the finest of Fae craftsmen had a hand in creating all wrapped in someone that actually engaged you both intellectually and emotionally.

You know your mother said that you and your sisters would most likely married princes, but you were glad that she wasn’t here to see you shamelessly lust over an orc. You still missed her, but both she and half of your tutors would have a conniption if they saw what you were doing right now.

It would seem that Bucky was sizing you up as well judging by the way his eyes were beginning to blow out with lust.

He must have pushed his naughty thoughts aside. “Are you still gonna wash my hair?” he queried with a smirk that showed off his tusks. They would’ve been intimidating, but now they look endearing and sexy.

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle and told him to wait right there while you went to the closet where the servants kept the washing items and got him silver spruce, lemongrass, rosemary, and orange scented shampoos and oils.

You returned to find Bucky trying and failing to put a towel tower that one of maids used to construct. Stifling a laugh, you took his hand and guided him to one of the hot springs.

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Bucky groaned upon sinking into the refreshing warm spring, glad to not have to was in a stream or river for a change (the tubs back home were nice, but they’re nothing compared to this). The water eased his tense muscles and joints in all the right places. Plus it didn’t hurt that the spring was deep enough for him to completely submerge himself which, at 8’ 3”, is no easy feat.

The engineering princess was getting ready to wash his hair like she offered and Bucky couldn’t wait. She had to know what she was doing to him. Lesser men would’ve jumped her on sight, but not him. His stepmother and sisters made sure of that.

She poured some of the argan and peppermint shampoos into a bowl and grabbed a towel to rest her shins.

“Lay your head on top of this bowl while I wash your head. Okay?”

Bucky did as directed and she started to work her magic on him. She started slow, working front to back, appreciating the way she gently massaged his scalp. At times he would let out low groans of pleasure at her ministrations, craving more from her.

Once she was done with the shampoo, she carefully lifted his head, emptied and refilled the water basin, and steadily poured the warm water over his head while trying not to get water up his nose.

Bucky turned around to see her beaming at her work. He smiled coyly at her pride, “Aren’t you coming?”, while motioning his right hand in a ‘come hither’ gesture.

She shook her head while biting her lower lip, probably not wanting to hair wet or some other prissy princess thing that was engrained into her.

Bucky decided to help ‘break’ her of that mindset by quickly grabbing her arm and gently tossed her into the spring in front of him. She jumped out of the water with a gasp and playfully punched his left shoulder.

“What was that for?!”

“You were too prideful and uptight!” Bucky chortled while she looked away failing to hide her embarrassment. He stopped laughing when he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

He then reached out and softly lifted her head with his fore and middle fingers. She looked a bit anxious when he closed the distance between them.

“May I?” he pleaded, desperate for her to say yes.

“Please,” she whispered.

That was all Bucky needed to hear.

He started slow as to make up for this afternoon, but he almost lost it when she grasped his hair and licked his canines/tusks. He growled as her petite tongue entered his near monstrous mouth, her light moans and whimpers goading something that Bucky thought he would never feel: love, lust, and passion.

Ever since he and his best friends achieved their goal, Bucky felt like he was missing something. None of the women in their community really excited him or really engaged him beyond his physical needs. Sure, there were plenty orc, human, and even elf females who would warm his bed, but none of them cared to stay and listen…except for you, the woman who was now struggling to take off her bikini top after talking machines and engineering with him without getting annoyed by his antics.

You were so eager — and so was he — but he didn’t want to have sex and then have you disappear on him like the others, not when he was finally making a connection. No, he would make this last a little longer, even if this meant disappointing you.

“We should go sleep.” He mumbled as his hand halted your efforts.

——————

With a heavy sigh, you relented, got dressed, and waited for him to get his things. Your eyes were downcast as you escorted him to the chambers he would be sharing with his kin.

Bucky tried to give you a goodnight kiss, but you rebuffed him with a curt “good night” and returned to you and your sister’s shared room.

You were greeted to Fumnanya gushing about Sam and his interest in the library. Part of you was happy for her. Fumnanya rarely got out of her shell and getting with a guy that was even remotely interested in books as much as she was exceedingly rare.

You wanted to say that you were excited for her, you really did, but you were still a little sullen and bitter about what happed with Bucky at the baths.

“So, you and Bucky sure took your time.” Ghada remarked as you were putting on your night clothes (a short tunic and mid-calf pants).

“You’re one to talk! Sam and I caught you and Steve making out in the changing rooms at the baths!” Fumnanya snapped. Great, even Ghada was getting more in the romance department than you were.

You gave Fumnanya a grateful smile while you settled into bed hoping that tomorrow would bring better fortunes.

——————-

You awoke with a slight start and a knock at the door. Grabbing your robe, you raced towards the door thinking it was Bucky only to find a letter floating in a glowing rosy pink sphere. As soon as you reached out to touch the sphere, it disappeared leaving the letter to slowly descend into your hands.

By this time, your sisters joined you in reading the letter. It was written by one of your favorite tutors, Aoife.

It read:

Dearest children,

If you are reading this, then this means that I am either dead or completely unable to reach you. I hope you weren’t asleep for too long, but something tells me you have. For that, I am sorry.

I wish I could be there to hug you and your matches, but I’m guessing you know of your uncle by now. He has been after you for years now. My wards were successful in keeping him at bay, but now, I’m afraid you’re on your own.

The mist surrounding the capital will fade in three days time. By then, you will need to go into hiding in order to not fall into Sophronius’ clutches.

Have faith, be brave, trust in yourselves, and be kind my dears. Also, trust in your matches, okay?

Warm Regards,

Aoife

Aoife was one of the few people who actually liked all three of you the way you were. Finding out that she could be dead was the straw that broke the camel’s back for the three of you.

When the orc hybrid trio found you, you were huddled on Ghada’s bed with the letter on the floor in front of you.

Steve gently coaxed the three of you out of your beds with the suggestion of showing them around the capital. It didn’t get you or your sisters completely happy, but it was a start.

The tour consisted of you and Ghada butting heads over where to take the guys (the theatre district is NOT better than the artisan market), Fumnanya pointing out prominent buildings and statues.

You could’ve sworn that the guys sneered at one of the monuments to one of your ancestors, but you let it slide.

But then, Bucky made an offhand comment about what was must have went into making this place and the sacrifices that was probably made.

You have thought about what must’ve went into making the capital, but never in a negative light. No one in the capital or in the surrounding cities, towns or villages were poor on dire straits. You made sure to get the truth through your little excursions out of the palace before Etna cast that infernal spell on you.

The thought was pushed aside when you and your sisters returned to your room that night. You needed to think of a plan and quickly because Aoife’s spell was going to fade in two days and Sophronius was hot on your tails.

“Perhaps the guys would let us stay with their community for a while.” Ghada put forth as you were getting ready for bed.

“That’s a possibility, but what do we have to offer? I doubt that a semi-nomadic community of mostly orcs would take on three enhanced human princesses for free” Ghada countered as she put on her nightgown.

“Are you serious?!” you exclaimed. “We have tons to offer! Look, Fumnanya is a great medic, you’re awesome diplomat and negotiator, and I’m good with machinery. Plus we can cook and take care of ourselves, so I doubt we would be a huge burden.”

“Also, we can give them some of the treasure that’s laying around the palace for them to use.” Fumnanya chirped.

“Exactly. We’ve got this!” You declared not realizing that the guys were having a similar conversation.

——————

“So, what should we do about the girls? I mean, they’re great and all, but can we bring them back with us?” Sam inquired as stripped down to his loincloth.

“I don’t see why not. They’ve actually got skills the group could use, unlike a lot of the females that first become part of our tribe.” Steve stated as he gnawed on the turkey leg from dinner.

“Maybe we could bring the tribe here! The city is completely deserted except for the girls and they certainly won’t mind us living here.” Sam offered.

“I don’t think that would be the wisest course of action. Like the girls said, the spell that keeps the mist in place will fade in two days. It won’t be long before Sophronius’ horde will crawling all over the place.” Bucky voiced thinking about last night’s interaction.

“Alright, we’ll see what the girls think tomorrow and go from there.” Steve concluded and the three went to sleep.

———————

Both parties began packing for their journey the next day once the guys agreed to take the three of you back with them.

You gave everyone three travel sized storage units. Ghada packed all of her notes on trade, language books, and art supplies. Fumnanya packed all of the medical supplies she could fit into her storage unit, her language, history, science, and geography books. You packed most of your tools, a couple of your inventions (including waning swan), and any materials you might need.

All three of you made sure to pack clothes, cooking supplies (especially spices since the guys were surprised at the variety), personal hygiene supplies, and some of the treasure/objects that would most likely fetch a good price without leading anyone back to them.

The time to leave came soon enough.

“You three ready?” Sam asked as you were making the final adjustments to your traveling clothes.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Fumnanya replied as she gave Sam a hug. It surprised you how quickly she warmed up to him.

“Perhaps you should give Bucky another chance.” Ghada advised.

Maybe, but not now.

You made your way to the courtyard taking in everything. The dire wolves nuzzled your cheeks as you made your way to mount them.

Steve gave both Sam and Bucky a nod and you began your journey out of the only home you three knew.

Perhaps this new chapter will be a good one.

—————

If you had looked up at the third tree closest to the thorn bushes, you would’ve seen a solitary raven, a raven with four red eyes. The raven was a scout for Sophronius and it was recording you.

Video of your departure was being transmitted to a crystal ball in the throne room of Sophronius’ main headquarters.

“It seems the bitch Aoife was able to keep them young after all.” Sophronius remarked, taking in the princesses’ features.

“Alert the princes. We have work to do.”

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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THE MADNESS OF MR. CROUCH

Sirius still didn't really look like himself as he collapsed back into his seat, there wasn't enough energy around him like there should have been. It was clear to all, that the more that was shown of this after Azkaban Sirius, their Sirius would continue trying his very hardest to act in as exact opposite as possible in his efforts to prove it wasn't going to get to him. In fact, just to put himself in even a slightly better mood and keep as much attention off of him as he could for a time, he exclaimed, "I think we should give Lily a Marauder's nickname!"

"Why?" Remus chuckled, not knocking the idea, but laughing that this came out of the blue.

"I like it," James said at once, taking no time to warm to the idea. "She's been unofficial since her and I got engaged, this would make it official."

"And what would you suggest?" Lily wrinkled her nose at the boy's, feeling beyond flattered that they were doing this, but never missing a chance to tease them. "Mrs. Prong's? I think not."

"No, no, it's got to be better than that" James sighed, running his hand through his hair in thought. "What about Willow?"

"Isn't that a tree, why would you go with that?" Sirius snorted in surprise.

Quickly moving past, he kept shooting off, "What about Petal, she is my Lily flower."

"What about Doe." Harry offered with a faint smile, trying to restrain how immeasurably happy it made him to witness this. When he received a few blank looks, he shrugged and said, "What, it's a female deer, and you guys all got named for your animals, shouldn't she be the same?"

"Yeah, but that's not very subtle," Sirius said, his head cocked to the side in thought.

James snorted, "like Padfoot is? Or Prongs? Remus' is practically smack you in the face obvious."

"Well If I get one then so does Harry." Lily quickly shot off.

"What, no," he automatically tried to protest, going beat red in the face, but James waved him off at once saying, "but of course, I would have said something sooner, but I can't come up with a good one for him either."

"You really don't like Bambi?" Remus wheedled, a smirk still threatening to show.

"What's that got to do with a deer?" Sirius demanded.

Several other things got circulated, and Sirius sat back in satisfaction his plan had obviously worked, now trying to hide his own amusement at Lily correcting.

"-we are not calling him PJ, or MJ for that matter, come up with something more original."

"If you like referring to a baby deer so much, let's call you Fawn," Remus shot at her.

"That's as ridiculous as you trying to call James Comet, or Prancer. What's with all the deer themes?" Sirius insisted. "What about Wildfire, or Brighteyes. Both compliment her physically, and you know those would translate into her animagus."

"I like Roan, as my actual guess for the deer she'd turn into would be a red deer," James offered. "And what about Fleetfoot for Harry? Deer's run on their toes, it fits." *

Sirius was clearly fixing to return with something else, but then Lily finally cut across and insisted, "I was going to serve lunch after this next chapter, if you actually want to eat why don't you get along to the book mister."

Sirius pouted at her for ruining his fun, but the hold of food over his head finally won out and he forcefully started his chapter with only a bit of unease still lingering in him.

The three of them went up to the Owlery the next day to send that letter to Percy, using Hedwig to give her something to do.

"You'd think she'd enjoy the time off," James rolled his eyes.

After that, they went down to the kitchens to give Dobby his new socks, the elf was ecstatic.

Lily was beaming with pleasure, so proud of her boy for turning around and giving Dobby back something for all the help he'd given.

Squealing about how Harry Potter was too good to him.

"Nah, he deserved them," Remus smiled, "otherwise it really did seem like you weren't going to be doing that task."

Harry didn't disagree, but still he asked, "How do you think Dobby even knew to grab that for me?"

"He mentioned he heard the teachers talking about it," Lily reminded, "so he probably got the idea from them and filched it from Snape. Does not seem out of character for him to do anything to help you."

Harry agreed, but still couldn't quite erase that nagging feeling he had that he was missing something from this exchange.

Harry returned that Dobby had saved his life with that gillyweed,

"Maybe literally," Sirius muttered to himself, none of them still wanting to think what would have happened to Harry if he hadn't completed that stupid task.

while Ron asked for more eclairs.

Hermione scolded he'd just eaten breakfast,

"And why should that stop him?" James demanded of no one. "Are you telling me she doesn't eat dessert after every meal?"

yet another platter full of eclairs had already appeared via the other house-elves.

Harry asked if perhaps they should ask for even more extras to take back for Snuffles.

"Yes," everyone but Sirius instantly agreed, while he honestly looked disappointed at Harry.

"A little conspicuous don't you think? Food isn't usually sent to the mountains."

"Shut it and say thank you," Remus snapped instantly, squirming in unease that Sirius was starting to act as paranoid as he was in the future.

Ron agreed to the idea at once, they could use Pig so he could have something to do. The house-elves were already scurrying around for the order.

"Even Hermione can't argue with the good of that," Lily smiled.

Hermione turned back to Dobby and asked how Winky was doing?

Dobby's enthusiasm vanished at once as he gestured to the fireplace, where at first the elf was indistinguishable from the blackened bricks.

"Eesh," James muttered in disgust. House-elves were normally very clean creatures, it was in their nature, and the thought of one falling this far really boggled his mind.

Her clothes were falling apart they were so unkempt, and she had several empty butterbeer bottles all around her, a mostly empty one in her hand as she swayed on her stool.

Dobby told that she was drinking at least six of those a day.

"Is she actually getting drunk off of it?" Harry asked in surprise, thinking there must be something really odd for house-elves to be having reactions to a nonalcoholic drink.

"I honestly have no clue," Sirius raised a brow in surprise, "I've never known one to drink it. They usually just eat whatever they're masters say they can, and I've never known one to allow them to have a butterbeer."

Harry told that it shouldn't be strong enough, but Dobby corrected it was to their kind.

All of the elves around them now were giving disapproving looks to the pair of house-elves as they began edging away to perform other works.

Dobby continued explaining that Winky was still pining for her old master, she hadn't accepted Dumbledore as her new one yet.

Lily gave a pitiful sigh for the poor thing, also wondering on if Dumbledore knew how bad she was? She liked to think he wouldn't really leave her down in the kitchens to mope all day like that, but then again, what else would he be expected to do with her? He'd hardly kick her back to the streets.

Harry got a sudden idea about Winky, and turned to ask her if she knew what Crouch might be up to these days.

"I can't see how she would," Remus said in surprise, the former house-elf of the guy had never even crossed their mind. "Crouch only started acting like this loony self after he sacked her."

"I'm sure Hermione would just love to point out how much he deserves this just for that," Sirius smirked.

Further talk of Crouch was not making anyone better, and though it wasn't the elf's fault at all, they were all desperately hoping Harry would drop this very soon so they could move away from this.

Winky focused bleary eyes on them as she hiccupped her way through asking about her master not coming up to school anymore?

Harry confirmed he'd heard reports about him being ill, and Winky began sobbing how Master needed his elf!

Hermione tried to cut in, saying plenty of people got along with their housework.

"Well sure, but magic just can't do everything," James sighed, his mind flickering back sadly to his mum always giving him chores on his holiday. Now that she was gone, he was surprised how much he missed the menial tasks, and her lectures that elbow grease was as good as any spell he would try using.

Winky was distraught at the notion that was all she did, still hiccupping at every other word about how she kept his trust and his most important secrets.

Sirius rolled his eyes in derision at the idea of, "who confides anything in a house-elf? I can't imagine Crouch using her like a diary. Sure he'd talk openly with her around since she couldn't go spreading whatever he told her not to, but I think she's exaggerating her own worth now."

Lily gave him a hateful look for that, he still somehow managed to sound far to condescending of the house-elf kind.

Harry was on his mum's side, there was something very ironic in Sirius thinking house-elves shouldn't be bothered with secrets and tasks...

Harry tried to ask for more, but Winky glared mutinously at Harry, telling him off for being nosy in between her slurring.

Dobby jumped to Harry's defense at once, telling Winky off for calling Harry Potter nosy!

"Well this is certainly interesting," Remus couldn't stop a curious smile lighting him. "House-elf versus house-elf, against two people who aren't even technically their masters."

"I'm sure you'd just love to do a whole study over this," James snorted.

"I'll admit, this is fairly unique," Sirius agreed.

Going on to say Harry Potter is brave and noble, and not nosy!

Despite his own blushing at the praise, even Harry couldn't stop a light laugh along with the others at that last trait he'd own up to.

Winky was being adamant, still hiccupping after every word about how he was putting his nose in her master's business, but Winky kept her silence no matter who asked-

Sirius was going cross eyed with annoyance at having to read so many hic's. Couldn't someone shout boo at her already and scare that off, Winky was certainly tipsy enough she'd fall for it.

then suddenly she slid off the stool and fell to the ground snoring.

"Or that," Sirius said aloud with a happy little laugh, refusing to explain himself to the others just to annoy them.

The now empty bottle rolled away, and a few house-elves came over to tuck a blanket around her, hiding her from sight.

"I'm sure that's their favorite part of the day," James shook his head, "when they can put her in her place."

"You two are depressing me," Lily scolded them both, still trying to find the sweetness in the gesture they were putting a blanket over her even when they didn't like her.

One elf turned to apologize for Winky, asking they not think of the lot of them like her.

"Hermione's the only one who's trying to," Remus had an odd look in place, "which is ironic, considering she's trying to force them all to act that way and not acknowledge they all have rather unique personalities."

"Honestly hoping you two have a discussion about this someday," Sirius told him honestly, if only for the fact that would mean Remus was back in the picture at all.

Hermione tried to explain for the poor thing that she was unhappy, couldn't they try helping rather than just covering her up.

The elf shook its head, saying they were too busy to be unhappy, there was work to be done and masters to be served.

"Well that was just depressing," Lily sighed, having finally admitted that though house-elves seemed to live for their work by their very nature, couldn't they at least have a side hobby or something. They shouldn't have to live for their work twenty-four seven, and should be allowed to grieve or other instances when the time came. Then she honestly wondered if, like Dobby's unique reaction in being happy of his freedom, was Winky even having these emotions at all just as circumstantial? Had studies ever even been done to show the emotional range of these creatures? She'd never heard of one, and now added it to her list of growing projects.

Hermione lost her temper on them, telling all within ear shot to listen to her, they had just as much a right as wizards to clothes and wages!

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes, wishing he'd taken the time in that cave to talk about house-elves with Hermione rather than Crouch.

Just look at Dobby!

Dobby begged her to leave his name out of this.

"I don't blame him," James was surprised at himself how upset he felt on Dobby's behalf, the poor guy was already an outsider by his kind, Hermione was only making it worse just then.

All of the happy smiles around them vanished at Hermione's declaration, and were suddenly eyeing her as if she were mad.

"From their perspective, she is," Remus agreed.

An elf appeared from the crowd with a ham, and a dozen cakes for Harry to leave with.

Despite the paranoia ringing in the back of Sirius' mind, he wasn't going to deny how warmed he was at Harry considering him like that, ham always sounded better than rat.

Then said ungraciously good-bye, and many tiny little hands were forcing all three of them out of the kitchens.

"Wow, George's prediction came true, Hermione did start a riot in the kitchens," James raised a brow.

"Just in the opposite way of how she meant to," Remus shook his head.

"Credit, we've never been thrown out before, so you did something else we never have," Sirius couldn't stop a bit of laughter.

Dobby called one last thank you for the socks as he vanished from sight.

Ron was angry with Hermione at once, pointing out they wouldn't like them visiting anymore.

"And why would that stop you coming back?" Sirius asked. "You can still pop in and visit, they'd just be a little more bitter about being polite. It's still in their nature to serve you though."

They could have tried to find out more about Crouch from Winky.

"I don't see that happening though," Remus disagreed.

Hermione snapped he didn't care about that, he just wanted more food.

"Yes, and?" James asked, wondering what other reason there was.

The two were irritable for the rest of the trip back upstairs, so Harry went off alone to send the food to Sirius.

"Here I thought you said you were used to it," Lily sighed.

"Doesn't mean I always enjoy hearing it," Harry shrugged.

Pigwidgeon was too small to take the lot, so Harry got a couple of school owls to help.

Sirius still couldn't stop a grimace, the more owls the more obvious the delivery and only proving his point further.

Once they were out of sight, Harry leaned against the windowless ledge and stared out into the grounds, Hagrid's cabin visible. The man was out front his hut, digging up what looked to be a new garden.

"Wouldn't be that surprised," Lily smiled happily, thinking she'd have loved nothing more than to listen to Harry simply watching the going on's of the grounds for hours from his perspective, it would have been far more enjoyable than half the death defying stunts he was usually in otherwise.

Maxime soon made an appearance,

They all got a haughty look about them for that at once, none of them wanting to hear from her after the way she treated Hagrid, and honestly half convinced it was still her fault he'd ended up in the papers like that.

and looked to try talking to him, but Hagrid hardly spared her a glance, and she soon left.

"I'm loving all the colorful things he could have said to her," Sirius gave a not so happy smile.

Lily liked to think Hagrid would have been a bit more of a gentleman and just kindly told Maxime to move along, but honestly she wouldn't put it past him to say something worse either, she sort of deserved it.

Instead of going back to the Tower, he instead stayed late into the night watching the lawns until everything faded to black.

By breakfast Ron and Hermione's argument had ceased, most likely because despite Ron's prediction, breakfast was as good as ever.

"I could have told you that," James chuckled happily.

Harry loaded his plate with all the bacon and eggs he usually did.

Sirius groaned and rubbed at his stomach, food had been mentioned far too often already for his stomach's liking.

Lily sighed, she knew that was coming, and decided she really would start thinking about lunch after this chapter.

Mail arrived on time, and Hermione began looking around expectantly.

When asked, she told that she'd taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet.

"Honestly I'm stunned it's taken her this long to do so," Remus agreed, "I'd half expected her to do it back in first year when she first found out about them."

She was sick of getting all the news from the Slytherins.

"And there's that," Sirius nodded along, thinking it was poor form on Harry's part to always have to wait on his enemies to find out these important things going on.

An owl did indeed arrive for her, but so did half a dozen others.

"Err?" Lily said in surprise.

"Did Hermione subscribe to a few other papers as well," Sirius tried to say before trailing off in confusion.

Harry asked how many subscriptions she'd gone for, but Hermione had no clue what was going on as she tore open an envelope. Then she blanched.

"That's not an encouraging start," James winced.

She quickly flipped the paper around to show them, and it wasn't a handwritten letter, but a jumbled note clipped from newspapers detailing what a wicked girl Hermione was toying with Harry's life.

"Ouch," all five of them winced for poor Hermione.

"I can't believe this," Lily snapped, "people are actually sending her hate mail? Because they think they have the whole story when they've never even met her."

"Welcome to the media," Remus reminded bitterly, "where people will instantly believe the worst."

Hermione was going through even more, getting angrier with every one that was just like the previous. Then she got to one that made her yelp in pain as a yellowish liquid came pouring out over her hands, causing her skin to boil.

"What the bloody-" James began in outrage, thinking if someone had actually sent Hermione a cursed letter for this mess Skeeter had started than someone was really going to have a problem from him.

One sniff showed it was bubotuber pus.

"Oh that poor thing," Lily crooned, already having to fight down the urge to shield Hermione and rush her off for help, she could only imagine how painful that was.

"I'm going to hex someone's brains out," Sirius growled at anyone doing that to a kid. Hermione hadn't always been the top of his favorite people, but even he'd never disliked her this much, and all over a stupid article!

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes with pain as she tried to wipe it off, but her fingers were already swelling and sores were appearing in her skin.

Harry was starting to go red with rage that someone had caused that kind of pain in his friend, when she hadn't done anything to deserve it, and this was all Skeeter's fault!

Harry promised they'd tell Sprout where she was as she sprinted off for the hospital wing, while Ron whispered that he'd warned her.

"Is now really the time for I told you so's?" Remus demanded.

"He's paying back Hermione for all the times she's done it to them," Sirius sighed.

He was still sorting through the opened letters, clearly worrying as he told that she'd better watch out for herself.

"Or just not open any mail any time soon," Lily agreed through gritted teeth.

"I for once actually wish Hogwarts would screen these kids mail or something," James shook his head with depression. "Even Death Eaters never sent cursed mail to students."

They went through Herbology subdued without their friend, and traipsed down to Care of Magical Creatures in the same mood, which didn't improve when the Slytherin's were seen approaching. Pansy was already giggling and whispering about something, and her mood only seemed to improve when she called to Harry where his girlfriend was? Why had she run out of breakfast crying, had they broken up already?

"I don't believe Pansy's ever had the pleasure of knowing what bubotuber pus can do to you," Remus began pleasantly enough.

"There's an egregious lapse on her part," James agreed with a heavy smile, "I do hope someone passes along the message to a set of twins. She really needs to be set right."

Sirius thought that was being too kind, he wished he could be the one to set the lot of those Slytherin's right, but it was a good starting point.

Harry turned away to ignore her, not wanting to give the satisfaction of knowing how much damage that article had done.

Last lesson had ended with Hagrid promising they were done with unicorns, and the fact that the first thing Harry spotted was more boxes this time wasn't encouraging.

"Err oh," Sirius hummed, fear that the skrewts had somehow created another clutch of eggs. They'd all really been hoping Hagrid had learned his lesson before.

Harry's first thought was more skrewts, but once he got a look inside, he saw fuzzy little black creatures with long snouts and feet like spades, all blinking up at them happily enough.

"Nifflers," Remus beamed at the admittedly adorable mole like creatures of havoc. "I've always loved the root word of them, niff, which means to pilfer. They were originally bred by Goblins to help them in their search for-"

Lily reached over and placed her hand over his mouth with an obvious look, while he pouted and jerked away.

Sirius wasn't even bothering to hide his laughter, they'd all told Remus more than once not to go spouting off those kinds of facts until after Hagrid had explained whatever so that they wouldn't have to hear repeat information.

Hagrid greeted them all, before saying today's lesson was over nifflers. They were found in mines and loved sparkly stuff, one such even demonstrated by suddenly leaping to its feet and going for Pansy's watch. She shrieked and jumped away just in time.

All five of them laughed at that, it was small payback but dearly loved.

Hagrid was still going, saying these little treasure detectors had a job today. Each of the students were going to pick one, and they were going to find the coins Hagrid had buried over there.

He gestured to the upturned soil Harry had seen Hagrid working on yesterday.

"Never let anyone say Hagrid doesn't do interesting lessons," Sirius vowed, his eyes shining with light at this. "All Kettleburn did was a demonstration for us, had a gold coin being moved around while the creature followed it."

After a warning for them all to tuck away their own shiny valuables, Hagrid promised a prize to the person who got the fastest niffler, and then they all stepped forward to pick one.

Harry picked one up curiously, and its long snout at once went sniffling around his ear.

Lily giggled childishly, at the image.

James couldn't resist making the crack, "good luck of it finding anything in there."

"Gee thanks," Harry laughed.

It was really quite cuddly.

"No we're not getting one Lily," James said at once when she looked to asking. "Ask him why not," gesturing at Remus to continue.

He crossed his arms and gave them all a look that plainly said, 'oh, now you want me to talk?'

"Well, just take my word for it then," James concluded.

Hagrid did a quick count before they began and realized they had an extra, asking where Hermione was?

Ron explained she'd had to go to the hospital wing, while Harry promised he'd give details later, Pansy was listening.

"Guess I'm just happy she didn't witness it," Lily sighed, "it would only make things worse."

The class was highly entertained as the little creatures went diving in and out of the dirt like water, always coming up with a new clutch of coins. Ron's was by far the fastest, his lap was soon filled with the gold.

"Good for him," Sirius beamed, thinking as small as it was, it was good for him to have even this small little win.

Ron was enthused with the idea of even buying one for himself.

James was all the more pleased Ron had now asked, since Moony was giving them all the silent treatment.

Hagrid at once deterred what a bad idea it was, they were house wreckers.

"He could have gone into a lot more detail," Sirius said, giving Remus an obvious look, "but picture that thing going into every corner of your house collecting anything it wanted and tucking it away. You can't really train them either."

Lily deflated on the idea, even if she did still want to see one in person eventually.

By the time all the coins had been found, Hermione made her slow approach, her hands heavily bandaged.

Hagrid didn't notice at first as he was telling off Goyle for trying to tuck his coins away into his pockets,

"Why am I not surprised?" James rolled his eyes in disgust.

saying it wouldn't do him any good as it was leprechaun gold, it would vanish in a few hours.

"I'm actually not surprised by that," Sirius agreed, it didn't seem like Hagrid to be playing around with real money.

Ron's niffler had indeed won, and he was presented with a large bar of chocolate.

"Best prize he could get," Sirius smacked his lips in appreciation.

Class was dismissed, and the three of them hung behind, Harry and Ron making sure all the nifflers were put back in their boxes while Hermione told Hagrid what had happened.

Harry spotted Maxime looking out her carriage window at them.

"Serves her right," Lily huffed, she hoped Maxime regretted this forever.

Hagrid shook his head sadly for her, telling her not to worry too much about it, he'd gotten the same hateful letters about him at first.

"What is wrong with people?" Lily flushed anew with hatred. "He didn't ask for his parentage, Hermione never got to tell her side, but these people can just send those terrible, possibly dangerous things. What if Hermione hadn't been able to go to the hospital wing?"

"I wonder if that pus would even have any effect on Hagrid's skin," James scratched absently at his face in thought, then flinched away from his wife who was sending him a very obvious 'that wasn't my point'!

Hermione was shocked as Hagrid quoted a few, but Hagrid brushed it off as them all being nutters. Hermione would do well to just burn the lot if they came again.

On the way back to the castle, Harry told Hermione about the lesson she'd missed.

"Oh that's right Harry, just rub it in," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Ron didn't speak the whole time on the way to lunch, and Harry jokingly asked if he'd gotten the wrong flavor chocolate?

"No such thing," James shook his head at once.

Ron instead asked Harry why he'd never mentioned the gold?

"Why would Harry tell Ron about the leprechaun gold?" Lily asked in surprise.

"Harry didn't even know," James suddenly recalled telling him this back at the Cup.

"Was Ron planning on stealing some?" Sirius asked redundantly.

Harry asked what he meant, and Ron elaborated all that leprechaun gold he'd given at the Cup to pay back those Omnioculars. Harry hadn't ever mentioned it disappearing.

"Uh oh," the five of them muttered, even Remus involuntarily as they all realized this was coming pretty late after the fact, but it still might upset Ron.

Harry had to cast his mind back to realize what Ron meant, that then quickly pointed out he hadn't noticed till much later, he'd been busy looking for his wand.

Ron stabbed at a potato as he bitterly said how nice it must be to be so rich you didn't notice a pocket full of Galleons going missing.

Harry opened, then quickly closed his mouth sheepishly. Truth be told, the thought never had crossed his mind again, as he'd just defended he'd been far more concerned about his wand, and then after the whole event seemed spoiled.

"Ron's just being too sensitive," Remus sighed, breaking his silence, he was getting bored anyways. "I doubt he would have noticed either if it had been his wand."

"It speaks," Lily grinned.

"Apparently about anything other than Magical Creatures," he rolled his eyes at the lot of them.

Harry tried to remind Ron about the important rest of that night, but he was still stuck. Saying Harry shouldn't have given him that hat for Christmas.

"Oh come on, don't tell me Ron's really going to linger on this," Sirius pouted.

"It really was just an unfortunate happenstance," James winced in agreement.

Harry instead tried to convince him to forget about it, but Ron bitterly stated that he hated being poor.

"How do you even respond to that," Lily muttered to herself, keeping her voice low enough Remus wouldn't hear as he'd clearly realized he'd chosen a poor moment to speak up again, he knew better than anyone this wasn't a feeling you ever really just got over.

Continuing he couldn't blame Fred and George for what they were doing, trying to earn some money. He wished he could go buy a niffler and get rich.

"Would not make his situation any better," Remus sighed, "not all the shiny things they find are worth money."

Hermione tried to make a joke they'd be sure to get him one for next Christmas then, but when he still didn't look any better, she instead pointed out it could be worse, he could have bubotuber all over his fingers.

"There's the bright side," James tried for a winning smile.

Hermione was having difficulties eating her own meal, her hands so swollen she couldn't maneuver her fork and knife.

"She should have just had soup that night," Sirius winced.

"I don't think curling her fingers around a spoon would be any better," Lily sighed.

She dropped them quickly enough and burst out in anger how she was going to get that Skeeter woman back.

"Can not wait to hear that," they all agreed enthusiastically, Harry more than anyone with utter conviction it would happen.

Over the next few days, hate mail did continue to come for her, but in Hagrid's advice she tried to get rid of it all. That didn't always work, as some sent howlers, which screamed at her loud enough that the whole hall knew of the event even if they hadn't read about it.

Harry was trying to encourage her it would all die down, like that stuff about him had.

"Still infuriating they believe it at all," Lily snapped.

Hermione was still furiously curious how she was even doing it, listening in on these things when she shouldn't have even been there.

"Hopefully something illegal enough Skeeter won't ever be able to write again," Sirius grumbled.

Harry had an absent smile of agreement in place, thinking on how right Sirius was.

She hung back in their next DADA class, though no one else did as they sprinted for the door. They'd all been treated to Twitchy Ear hexes, Harry still having to hold his down to stop them moving.

"What on earth is the point of that spell?" Harry muttered in agitation. It was certainly annoying, but hardly the best tool he'd heard of for Defense.

"Some spells are created for the sole purpose of not actually having a bad impact when landed," Remus happily answered, and Harry had a flashback to Professor Lupin now more than ever. "When you learn a shield charm and such, you only hope if the spell doesn't work, it won't leave you harmed as much."

Harry nodded in understanding, knowing he'd never have asked Moody such a question, he was too afraid to ask the old Auror what the point of any spell was the way he went on.

Hermione caught up to them, made sure Harry could still hear through his clamped ears, and told that she'd asked Moody, he hadn't seen her anywhere near the judges table, cloak or otherwise.

Ron asked if there was any chance she'd drop this?

"Why would she?" Sirius asked, aghast with once at Ron.

"So she doesn't get even more hurt," Lily sighed, some lingering fear for Hermione still there she could be getting in over her head, going after such a powerful woman with such a following. There was always the chance even if Hermione did find something out, it had to be something so irrefutable Skeeter couldn't write it off as the payback of a 'silly little girl.'

Hermione snapped no at once, she was going to find out how she'd heard all that stuff!

Harry offered maybe Skeeter was bugging people.

Harry felt his tongue curling in his mouth, his jaw doing a wonky number in regret of himself saying that for some reason... and was thankfully distracted from his own dilemma by his dad cocking his head to the side in confusion.

Sirius said back, "I'll explain if the book doesn't in a second," thinking Ron wouldn't know any better than Prongs.

Ron asked what good fleas would do?

James gave a happy little laugh, both that he hadn't been the only one to not get it, and that had been what he was thinking.

Harry explained about recording devices while Hermione shot down the idea.

James pouted, but admitted he was fine with the answer for now even if he was interested for more.

Demanding to know if they were ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?

"Why would they?" Remus smirked, "she clearly has it memorized, they can just go to her for it."

Ron asked why they'd bother, since she knew the whole thing.

"Shut it Padfoot," Remus said instantly before Sirius could mock him.

Hermione answered that electrical devices didn't work at Hogwarts, they went haywire around so much magic.

"Is that why Hogwarts doesn't have phones?" Harry asked in surprise. He'd always thought the castle was just being traditional with the owls and such, not that there was an actual reason for them.

"Yep," Lily agreed, "even outside of Hogwarts, in just plain wizarding houses, anything that relies too heavily on electricity won't work. It's why purebloods are so unaware of them in general, it's not that they refuse to learn about them, they've just never come across them."

"I can vouch for that," James nodded along.

Rita wasn't using anything muggle, if only Hermione could figure out what she was doing.

Ron pointed out they had enough to worry about without adding a vendetta to the list.

Hermione snapped they didn't have to help, she'd figure it out on her own!

Harry did honestly feel bad for her, he knew he and Ron would have tried to help if they could, but they were a little too worried about the payback Rita had already done. That's all they needed was for even more bad things to arise and hit them, but clearly Hermione cared nothing for the consequences.

She marched off, and Harry had no doubts she was heading for the library.

"I agree," Remus chuckled.

Ron asked what the odds were she'd come back with I Hate Rita Skeeter badges.

"I'd wear that prouder than a S. P. E. W. badge," Sirius said with chipper.

"IHRS actually sounds pretty cool anyways," James agreed.

Hermione didn't ask for their help again on the subject, and both were grateful as they didn't have the time to help if they wanted to. Both were hardly treading in their mountain of homework.

"I'd rather find ways of revenge than focus on homework," James scoffed.

Harry didn't understand how his friend had the time for anything extra as he focused on his workload. Still, he made time at least several times a week to send more food up for Sirius.

Sirius couldn't stop a little hitch of gratitude in his throat for that no matter how much he insisted it was unnecessary aloud to him.

Harry just gave him a challenging look back, stating, "If you're going to be sticking around me at your own risk, the least I can do is help however I can."

Sirius could have kept arguing, but he was so touched, and honestly it was a moot point as of right now.

After last summer, Harry had not forgotten what it felt like to be continually hungry.

Lily shivered slightly as she avoided looking at both boys for a moment, growing more and more wary the longer the parallels between those two continued. She'd never wish anything remotely like Sirius' life on Harry, yet that's what seemed to keep happening.

He kept sending notes as well, telling there was nothing new and they were still waiting on a reply from Percy.

It came in the form of Easter Eggs, passed along from Mrs. Weasley and Percy at once. The boys were the size of dragon eggs and filled with toffee. Hermione's was hardly bigger than a chicken's egg.

"Oh she didn't!" Lily burst, turning the growing worry she had for Sirius into outrage on this. "Molly did not really believe this of Hermione!"

"I'm not that surprised," James crinkled his nose up in agitation, "if she believed that tosh about Harry the first time, she'll believe anything."

"I do not understand this woman," Sirius shook his head sharply, "she knew what was written about her own family wasn't true, but readily believes the same woman about kids she should know better!"

Hermione eyed the egg for a long while before asking Ron if his mum could have read that article?

Ron said it was a possibility, around a mouthful of toffee.

Remus shook his head pitifully at Ron not taking a bleeding hint, he really thought that the friend should have offered his own egg in compensation for his mother acting like a prat.

Harry distracted her by reading Percy's letter, which was short and irate.

"It takes talent to make a letter irritated," Sirius agreed.

Stiffly written out that as he told the Prophet, Crouch was taking a well-deserved break. He knew his boss's hand writing of course, so he knew the instructions he was being given were genuine. Please stop spreading rumors otherwise, and don't contact him again unless it was important. He at least signed off with a Happy Easter.

"A very happy holiday to you too," James huffed, even with Percy gone he'd still managed to be an irritation to them all with his unhelpfulness.

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season.

"Don't remind me," Sirius groaned like he had a bad stomach ache, missing that sport even more with all the stressful things they'd been dealing with lately.

Instead the approach of the last task was coming, brought up by McGonagall telling him to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine.

"Why?" James narrowed his eyes, with some excitement and some worry he wasn't even sure himself.

"It's a big, obvious place the foreigners can find?" Lily offered, though honestly the Entrance Hall would make more sense if that was so.

"Anybody else wondering why all the events are on the 24th of their month?" Remus asked to try and change the subject.

"To be extra cruel, leaving them at the end of the month," Sirius muttered belligerently.

Bagman would be there with further instructions.

"Why did it have to be him?" James huffed, this night getting worse and worse as that's all he wanted, more paternal advice from Bagman.

At the set time, Harry headed down and met Cedric on the way. He asked if he had any ideas what was coming, and Cedric told that Fleur had been telling him about some tunnel challenge, they'd be looking for treasure.

"Wonder where she pulled that from?" Remus asked in surprise.

Harry said he could deal with that, he'd just ask Hagrid to let him borrow a niffler.

Lily had a little vindictive smile in place as she said, "I think Maxime's making up some tosh, claiming she spoke to Hagrid because that's what she saw him working on."

"If the only reason she ever liked him was because of his dragon help in the beginning, then I'm all the more happy it's been broken up," James scowled.

They made it down to the stadium, but quickly stopped short when Cedric exclaimed what they'd done to the place!

Sirius straightened up in agitation at once, his eyes narrowing viciously. Even if he didn't currently like Cedric, he was a Quidditch fan, and on the Quidditch field making that kind of exclamation was not a good thing!

The once smooth, green field was now jutting with crisscrossing walls in every direction.

"They didn't!" James spat in disgust.

"How could they," Harry bemoaned, thinking if this was the result of their not being constant practices on it, he'd ask his team to go down there at once even on top of their homework.

Upon closer inspection, Harry saw they were hedges.

Then something snaked down Harry's spine, wrapping tight around his lungs and suddenly leaving him breathless with fear. The impact of the third task suddenly being all too real were making spots appear in his line of vision, insisting something truly awful was going to happen in the thick of those hedges, something about him and Cedric...

Someone called to them from the center of the field, and they noticed the other three waiting.

Fleur smiled at Harry's approach.

"There's the bright side of that task," Sirius said with absolute chipper, still agitated enough about his pitch he didn't notice Harry's internal dilemma. "Fleur doesn't see you as some little kid anymore."

When Harry didn't respond, Sirius just put it down to him being too flustered to say otherwise.

She'd been doing a lot of that since he'd 'rescued' Gabrielle.

Bagman greeted them by exclaiming over the place, saying when the time came Hagrid would have these things twenty feet high! All while bouncing with enthusiasm.

"When is he ever not?" James huffed.

Upon correctly reading the looks of the two Hogwarts boys, he quickly promised the place would be put back right once they were done with it.

He asked if they could guess what was coming, and after a beat of silence, Krum said it was a maze.

Bagman congratulated him at once, saying their last challenge was a straightforward maze to the Triwizard Cup, the first to touch it won.

"Joyful," Lily sighed without emphasis, her mind already offering up a few horrid plants from Herbology she remembered that she was sure was now going to feature in this thing. All not even seen by Harry until he reached the highest greenhouse levels.

Fleur asked if the maze was really it?

Bagman did add on that Hagrid would be giving a few creatures to make it an extra challenge,

"Oh just kill me now," Remus blanched in horror at once, anything Hagrid would be providing would leave anyone but the man himself running for the hills.

"Not happening Moony, I'd miss you too much," Sirius sighed as he fidgeted uneasily with the pages, honestly agreeing with his friend anyways.

plus some spells and enchantments they'd have to get past.

They'd be let in in order of their points, so the Hogwarts boys first, then Krum, then Fleur.

"I guess that's a slight advantage," James sighed absently, he'd honestly been wondering what the point of those points were.

"Really says something about Harry that he's tied for first place," Lily gave her son a warm smile, even as unprepared as he'd been for all of this, he was still managing to hold his own in this competition.

Harry gave her a lackluster smile back he in no way felt.

They'd all have a fighting chance on the inside, pointing out how fun this would be.

"I am going to strangle him," James emphasized every word, he couldn't have been more clear if he'd tried how much this bloke was annoying him with his constant enthusiasm for all of this.

Harry, who had real world experience with the kinds of things Hagrid would be offering, thought fun was the last word he'd use.

"At least Harry agrees with us," Sirius gave him a wane smile, for the first time noticing Harry wasn't exactly paying too much attention. Still, if he didn't want to speak up, he wasn't going to force him to.

They were all dismissed, and as Harry turned to leave, Bagman tried to catch up to him.

All five of them groaned in annoyance at this. Even if it was part of the Tournament, and it really wasn't feeling like that since they hadn't found a single hint he was doing this for the others, it was never not annoying from the man.

He was beat by Krum tapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Timing," Remus grinned absently, suddenly as on edge as everyone else what Krum could be up to.

He asked if he could have a word, and Harry agreed.

Bagman offered to wait for Harry, but Harry told him not to bother, he could find the castle on his own.

"Are you sure?" James eyed his son critically, "because I sometimes get worried about that."

"I'm sure I can ask directions from Krum if not," Harry said back solemnly, the joke losing something in the delivery because he was still so distracted by whatever horrid thing was going to come up in the last task, but trying his hardest to ignore it for now.

Harry and Krum left the stadium, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest.

"What's he up to?" Sirius narrowed his eyes at the pages and alternately giving Harry a scrutinizing look.

Harry shrugged without too much concern, and Sirius decided he'd been harping on Harry enough about safety lately, he didn't really think Krum would do something in front of the castle...right?

They passed Hagrid's and the Beauxbatons carriage before he stopped in the shadows of the forest. Harry asked why, and he said he didn't want to be overheard.

"That's not ominous at all," James murmured, suddenly right in line with Sirius' thinking.

When he did stop, he turned to ask Harry what was going on between him and Hermione, still mispronouncing her name.

All four of those around Harry cracked up laughing, while he glared at nothing in particular. He was just so happy for them thinking this was funny, while he was honestly even more annoyed Krum thought that was as true as the rest of the world.

Harry had expected something much worse from this set up, just stared for a moment before declaring nothing! It hit him all over again how much taller than him Krum was.

"You think he'd punch you out if you said otherwise?" Sirius asked in an almost conversational tone.

"I wouldn't have thought he'd really like Hermione that much," Remus returned.

He promised they were just friends, she wasn't his girlfriend, and never had been.

"And never will be," Harry added on meaningfully, unable to picture her as anything but a sister.

Krum pointed out how often she talked about him.

"Because we're friends," Harry said in exasperation, the memory of telling all of Hogwarts this making him think he was probably being too harsh on Krum as he cracked.

Harry insisted it was just because they were friends.

Harry was finding this all hard to believe that the acclaimed International Quidditch player was looking at him as a rival.

"Well you certainly are on the field," James said pompously, all of Harry's Quidditch wins swimming to the surface, "it's not that surprising off."

Harry didn't agree, on either front, but wasn't going to argue either.

Krum struggled to get out one more question, trying to ask if Harry had ever...

Harry understood, and instantly said no.

Krum finally looked appeased, instead telling Harry he'd seen him during the first task, he was a very good flier.

Harry blinked in surprise, somehow a world renowned Quidditch player saying that still didn't feel as big as his dad saying that, though both equally went over his head as he still wasn't sure why they thought that.

Harry thanked him, exchanging the compliment and saying how he'd seen him at the Cup, beginning to ask about that Wronski Feint- but quickly stopped when he spotted movement in the forest behind Krum.

Knowing what bad things could be in there, he spun Krum around.

"Poor guy could be in for some real trouble," Remus agreed at once, suddenly wishing he could shoo the two out of there.

Krum asked what was wrong, and before either had a chance to do more, a man stumbled out.

"Err," they muttered in surprise, but it was better than a beast.

For a moment, Harry didn't recognize him . . . then he realized it was Crouch.

"It was what now?" Sirius yelped, looking suddenly likely to chuck the book in the flames the moment that name came back up. The residual hatred of what he'd done, or was going to do and not the point, to him leaving Sirius with a nasty curse on the tip of his tongue.

Still, the moment was truly odd enough that he pushed past his own vile at his abrupt entrance and read on to hear why.

It was clear he was worn from traveling, his robes were ripped and he clearly hadn't washed in days.

While Lily could not garner up much sympathy for a man who gave people to dementors like it was nothing, she still couldn't help the edge of curiosity in her voice rather than wanting to scream it, "what happened to him?"

"Sounds like he was attacked," James raised an almost triumphant brow, "maybe he was on the grounds snooping around again and something in the forest got him." He did not sound the least bit concerned, if anything the opposite that Crouch had gotten away.

He didn't even seem to see them, babbling wildly at a nearby tree instead. He now resembled a beggar, and Harry's mind flashed back to a rant Vernon had once given to what he'd like to do to people like this.

"I have never in my life wanted to hear Vernon's opinion on any subject," Remus scowled hatefully, "but even I won't deny I'd hand Crouch over to Vernon like that." At least Vernon would be inflicting the pain on someone who deserved it.

A few creatures came to the boy's mind of something that could have possibly bitten Crouch to cause him to be so delusional, at least one of them big and nasty enough they hoped Crouch wet himself before he was bitten and somehow managed to escape.

Krum asked if this was the same judge from their Ministry?

"Sadly," Lily hissed with disgrace.

While Harry nodded his answer he edged towards Crouch, who was paying them no mind as he told a nearby tree that once Weatherby was done with that

That was so unexpected Sirius involuntarily laughed that Crouch was still calling Percy that, which quickly fizzled out as his mind quickly realized he was supposed to be plotting imminent death for the guy.

he needed to be sending owls to others as well, going into a list of tasks.

Harry tried to get his attention, but still the man seemed convinced he was talking to Percy.

Harry took another step closer, as Krum asked what was wrong with him?

"More than I care to list at the moment," James snapped instantly.

"Or did he mean in the moment?" Lily scowled, "because that I have no clue, and no real care."

Harry began to say he wasn't sure, but instead they should-

He was cut off by Crouch coming forward, grabbing a fistful of Harry's robes and dragging them face to face.

Sirius felt a guttural noise escape his throat in protest of that guy grabbing hold of Harry like that, he was suddenly wishing Padfoot had been on the grounds this night, not only was he owed some payback, but he hated the idea of Harry being out there at this moment in time.

His eyes still remained unfocused, but now his voice was strained for every word as he begged to see Dumbledore.

Harry promised they could to go him, but Crouch didn't even seem to hear him as he insisted, pausing after every word that he'd done something stupid,

Lily was finally starting to feel a wisp of unease for the man, side along with her hatred of him. She was getting very concerned at his actions, and did not want Harry around him any more than could be helped in case he somehow got worse, like violent.

he had to tell Dumbledore.

Harry tried shouting to emphasize they could do just that if Crouch would just let go.

Instead, Crouch asked who Harry was?

Under any other circumstances, Harry would have laughed, as he loved nothing more than to not be recognized, but as memory of this was being replaced, he'd never found anything less laughable.

Harry promised he was a student at the school, looking to Krum for some help, who was still hanging as far back as he could.

"Some backup," Remus grumbled, Krum not exactly endearing himself further to them.

Crouch asked if he was his?

Harry said no even as he had no idea what that meant.

Harry looked around hopefully, but either they were still too angry at Crouch to consider what he could mean other than a madman's rambling, or they had no idea and Harry wasn't in the mood to ask which.

He got out one last time he had to warn Dumbledore, before switching back to conversing with Weatherby about how he and his wife and son were due to have tea with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge later that day.

Sirius shook his head pitifully as he got all that out, unable to decide which he was more maliciously happy for, Crouch's moments where he tried to beg forgiveness from Dumbledore for all the things he'd done, or these moments of delusion where he still seemed convinced he had a good life. Both would snap eventually and he'd turn back into the heartless monster he really was.

Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again,

"There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear," Remus shook his head.

and Harry was so surprised he didn't even realize he'd been released.

Crouch was still babbling on about how proud he was of all twelve of his sons O. W. L. grades.

Lily bitterly turned that in her mind, wondering just how proud Crouch really was, or if he even cared above the achievement and not the boy himself getting the marks and making his father look good.

Harry began backing away, telling Krum to stay with him, Harry was going to get Dumbledore since he knew where his office was.

"I'd just leave him there," Sirius said in no uncertain terms.

Harry gave him a wayward look, but didn't respond. No matter how angry he himself was at the man, he'd never just leave someone in that kind of situation.

He turned to leave, but Crouch seized hold of him again, this time clinging to his knees as he begged not to be left alone! He was back to talking brokenly, every word a struggle as he told how he'd escaped

Sirius sensed someone was about to interrupt him in confusion, this didn't feel as comical or lording anymore, there was something almost sinister in that wording, but Sirius ignored and didn't let the comment rise nor did he allow himself to stop in confusion until he got it all out.

had to warn Dumbledore, it was all his fault, Bertha dead his fault, his son all his fault, had to tell Dumbledore that Harry Potter, Dark Lord stronger, Harry Potter...

Sirius finally looked up, blinking in shock to indicate he was done.

"Did he say he knew Bertha was dead?" Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "why on earth would he know about that? The only ones who should..."

He trailed off, either because it was obvious or he was too appalled to say one of the names was anyone's guess, but James had a much more important question, "what's this about you?"

"Don't know," Harry practically whispered back, hearing the truth in his own words, "nothing good."

Sirius felt chills tracing his skin, he didn't find this nearly as funny or pleasurable at Crouch's expense anymore, the venom had actually dripped right out of his voice in his fearful curiosity to read what Crouch was on about.

Harry forcibly wrenched himself free this time, telling Krum to stay here with him while he went for Dumbledore.

Krum called after his retreating form to hurry.

"No, he's going to take his bleeding time," James huffed through his nose, starting to feel twitchy at all the bad this could be. Nothing was adding up with this man lately. There was just no way he could really be a Death Eater, but then how else would he know about Bertha? He'd been acting off since the beginning of the Tournament, and it wasn't just them, everyone had been saying so. James honestly wished Harry had stuck around and tried to ask him some of these questions, Crouch seemed out of it enough they may have even gotten an answer.

Harry made it to the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office and tried to use the password sherbet lemon.

"Oh crap," Remus winced, clearly Harry didn't know that changed every year, and Harry didn't know the new password.

"Wasn't a bad start pup, but now go for McGonagall," Sirius quickly agreed, then turned back to the book in hopes Harry would do just that.

When the statue didn't move, Harry yelled at it to move!

Lily felt a bubble of laughter wanting to erupt up her throat, nothing magical had ever just moved because you shouted at it, but the humor quickly died as she realized how panicky Harry was.

But nothing at Hogwarts had ever moved just because he shouted at it. Instead he began heading for the staffroom?

"Even better," Remus agreed, "there's almost always a teacher in there, and just as close as McGonagall's office which she might not be in right now."

He only made it a few paces away before someone behind him shouted his last name.

They all startled a bit at Sirius shouting that, but no one rebuked him, too busy hoping Sirius would get a move on and show it was Moody or something, he was the most likely to shout they supposed.

Harry stumbled to a halt and turned to see Snape coming out of Dumbledore's office.

"Argh!" James snarled in outrage. "Why is it every single bleeding time something goes wrong around that place, Snape is always the one to show up and make it worse!"

Lily was surprised her first instinct was still to defend, say Snape hadn't done anything wrong yet and instead could just as easily tell Harry the password as any teacher, but the moment was kicked away in seconds as she agreed with James, she had no delusions this was going to go well.

The statue was already closing behind him as Harry came back, telling desperately that he needed to see Dumbledore, Crouch was down in the forest-

Snape cut him off by telling him to stop talking rubbish, what was he talking about?

"He's not speaking Mermish you imbecile," Remus snapped at once, "pull your arse out of your ears and listen for once."

James had a brief flare of regret Remus wasn't at the castle, again, not only because he knew Harry could have instantly gone to him, but just to be telling Snape something like that.

Harry half shouted now about Crouch being down there, ill and acting odd, he needed to see Dumbledore!

Snape had a cruel smile across his face as he told the headmaster was busy.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Lily was already half shrieking in frustration. "What about that was funny? Any part of that should have sent a decent teacher running for the Forest while telling you the password so you could get Dumbledore to do the same!"

"You said it yourself Lils," Sirius bitterly reminded, "Snape has never been anything decent in his life."

Harry shouted back he had to see Dumbledore!

Snape asked if he was deaf?

"Clearly you're not hearing him," James seethed back.

Harry could tell Snape was thoroughly enjoying himself, denying Harry the thing he wanted when he was so panicky.

Remus had his fingers pressed against his temple to try and suppress his urge to keep shouting about this lunatic, who in Merlin's pants enjoyed watching a child clearly frightened except the most sadistic of people?

Before the circular argument could continue, Dumbledore appeared.

"I'm surprised half the castle couldn't hear me shouting and come running," Harry muttered bitterly.

Harry quickly sidestepped Snape,

"I'd have just shoved him out of the way," Sirius snapped.

"Defenestration is lovely any time of year," Remus agreed.

and again told what was going on.

Dumbledore asked no question, but told Harry to lead the way.

Lily sighed in relief, for all of Dumbledore's ever growing shortcomings, at least the man was still springing into action now.

They left Snape standing next to the gargoyle and looking twice as ugly.

James gave a bitter laugh he wished he could indulge in more.

Harry gave more details of what all Crouch had been babbling about as they headed down, Dumbledore's pace quickening with every word.

"He's spryer than you'd expect for a man his age," Remus muttered absently.

Harry finished by telling he'd left Krum to look after him, which sent Dumbledore into such long strides Harry was running to keep up.

"Why would he be worried about that?" Lily asked uneasily, starting to feel a little jittery. She didn't particularly like Krum, but why would he be in danger at the moment, which was the only reason she could think of Dumbledore hurrying along even faster?

No one answered.

Harry took the lead as they got close to the spot, finding the place he'd first stopped and calling out for Krum.

No one answered.

Sirius couldn't help the worry starting to creep up in him, suddenly more thankful than he could put into words Harry had run off for Dumbledore instead of the other way around. This was stupid of course, Krum was fine, Crouch was acting like a lunatic and they were going to find him in moments...

Harry insisted they'd been here!

Harry bemoaned his life that always, at the most crucial times, he seemed to come across as a lunatic.

Dumbledore lit his wand tip with Lumos, and came across Krum.

After a quick inspection, Dumbledore deduced he was stunned.

Lily was biting her tongue to stop herself demanding of nothing what was going on. They weren't even dealing with a task right now, yet they were more wound up than if they were. This was by far one of the creepiest things to happen on Hogwarts grounds.

Harry offered to run for Madam Pomfrey, but Dumbledore told him to stay where he was.

James honestly disagreed, he'd love nothing more than for Harry to go running into the safety of the castle, he wasn't even sure if he trusted Dumbledore enough anymore to keep Harry's safety in mind with whatever was going on, and just knew one thing for certain. He wished Sirius were there.

Dumbledore instead cast a spell that sent the ghostly image of a bird flying towards Hagrid's hut.

The blatant but odd use of whatever magic that was hardly distracted any of them from their scattered thoughts.

Then he turned his attention back to Krum, using the spell Enervate to awaken him. He tried to sit up with a start, but Dumbledore kept a hand on his chest and told him to stay down for the moment.

Krum told that he was attacked.

Sirius was so surprised by that, he just sat there for a moment with his mouth flopped open. Harry had to give him a hard nudge to get him to keep going, resisting the temptation himself to wrench the book away and read it.

That old madman had attacked him!

Lily had half been convinced Krum must be talking about some other 'he,' because there was just no way he could mean Crouch. For all his horrible faults and deeds, it just didn't feel possible he was actually a Death Eater.

Hagrid arrived then, his loud footfalls announcing his approach with his crossbow in hand and Fang at his heels.

"Why's Hagrid there?" James yelped in surprise, not unhappy at his arrival, but the timing.

"You think it was that thing Dumbledore sent?" Remus asked. "A new way to summon someone to you?"

"If so, I kind of like it," Sirius muttered before pushing on and hoping Dumbledore or Hagrid would actually explain it later.

Dumbledore turned and instructed Hagrid to go get Karkaroff, tell him his student had been attacked. Then to go find Moody-

but was cut off by his arrival.

"Now this one I'm calling bull on," Sirius narrowed his eyes curiously. "Why would he know to come down there?"

"One of his detectors he didn't disable went off?" Remus offered without any real hope, it was still too odd a coincidence.

He was cursing his leg, saying he'd have been here faster if not for it. Snape had told him what was going on.

"Now he's lying as well," Remus balked. "There's no way in hell Snape went and told Moody anything."

"I'll worry about Moody later," Lily hissed, trying to wave them all down, "for now let's see the rest of this play out.

Dumbledore turned to Hagrid and insisted he go get Karkaroff, Hagrid agreeing at once and thundering off.

Dumbledore then turned to Moody and told him to start looking for Crouch, which he agreed to at once.

The three remained silent until Hagrid and Karkaroff came back, the second demanding to know what was going on?

"We'd all like to know that," James rolled his eyes sourly.

Krum told his headmaster, and Karkaroff was instantly outraged a Triwizard judge had done this!

Dumbledore tried to say something, but Karkaroff was livid as he called Dumbledore out on this treachery!

"That's his first conclusion?" Lily looked aghast. "That Dumbledore did this. I've called him a lot of things recently, but I can not see him attacking Krum, or in any way setting this up."

"Can't see Karkaroff himself doing it either, and trying to push blame," James agreed. "Krum should be the last person he'd want to attack for any reason."

He went into a mired of tyrants about Dumbledore being a two face, going on about how they should be rebuilding old ties instead of everything that had happened this year! Then he spat on the ground at Dumbledore's feet.

James nor Sirius looked the least bit impressed with this act of defiance. Dumbledore was at the top of their list of someone they needed to have a very heated conversation with, but for all his underhanded and seemingly cruel moves towards Sirius of late, even this still didn't feel in the headmaster's style. They'd give him that much at least.

In one move, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs and slammed him against a tree.

"Now see, why couldn't he have done that to Vernon?" Remus grinned victoriously. "I'd have loved nothing more than for that first visit to end with Hagrid chucking them all into the sea, the pigtail clearly didn't do any lasting damage."

"Reason number seven why I think Hagrid should be around all the time," Sirius nodded along.

"What are the first six?" Lily giggled.

"I'm compiling a list," he waved her off, "I'll let you know when I'm done."

Hagrid snarled for an apology, while Dumbledore told Hagrid to put him down.

"Dumbledore never lets anyone have any fun," James pouted, he rather enjoyed this mental image.

Hagrid released him at once, Karkaroff falling to the ground in a tangle of twigs and leaves at the trunk.

Despite the seriousness of Harry's situation, that didn't stop anyone giving a nice laugh at Karkaroff's misfortune.

Dumbledore told Hagrid to take Harry back to Gryffindor tower now.

Hagrid tried to insist he'd rather stick here, but Dumbledore was being firm, turning to Harry that he was to go back to his tower and stay there. Anything else of any importance, even any owls he wanted to send,

"Hey, leaving me out of the loop like this," Sirius yelped in protest.

Honestly, the others were almost relieved. Now that there was no doubt Harry was out of danger, being with Hagrid and heading back to his tower, they didn't want Sirius anywhere near this. If Harry sent him a letter now, he'd be on the grounds of the castle to investigate before you could finish the first reason of why it was a bad idea.

could wait.

Harry agreed with some unease, wondering how Dumbledore knew he'd already been forming a letter to Sirius in his head.

"Because Dumbledore is a Legilimens," Remus sighed, "something he doesn't usually use on students, but I guess he made an exception on you to see if you missed any details."

Lily tisked, wishing he'd asked permission.

Harry followed in Hagrid's wake back to the castle, after he left Fang standing guard over the scene.

Hagrid was in a rampage, muttering curses about this whole situation and Karkaroff's take on it. Dumbledore was worried about everything lately and this was no help.

Then he turned on Harry, who jumped at being taken aback.

"So am I," James had jumped slightly at Hagrid turning his attention on Harry. What had he done wrong to deserve this?

Demanding what he'd been doing down there with a Durmstrang?

"I think Hagrid's taking Maxime's spurn a little too personally," Remus sighed, "now he hates all the foreign people."

"Though with good reason from that school," Sirius scowled at Harry as well, "I wasn't any happier when you went off with him," still, he smoothed out his face and finished, "but Hagrid is in the wrong this time, Krum wasn't the problem."

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather, and Hagrid, acting so paranoid when Krum had never done a thing wrong to him.

Krum could have jinxed him, hadn't Moody taught him anything?

"Moody isn't exactly one I'd be taking life advice from," Lily shook her head.

"Well he has kept himself alive long enough to be some credibility," James couldn't help but poke back.

"After gaining himself how many enemies?" Lily challenged right back.

James let it drop.

Harry defended that Krum was alright, they'd just been talking about Hermione.

Hagrid vowed he'd be having words with her next.

"Be afraid for Hermione," Remus said, in almost close to amusement. Cleary Hagrid had taken on an almost paternal roll for all of the kids, which was honestly adorable, the most of which for Hermione. Krum now had Hagrid to fear if things got serious between them.

None of them should be having anything to do with those foreigners.

Harry pointed out he hadn't thought so when he'd been spending time with Maxime.

"You know why that changed," Sirius looked at Harry in disbelief, "why would you bring that up?"

"My point still stood," Harry defended, "he was just fine with it when it was him."

Hagrid looked so menacing as he told Harry not to mention her, he actually looked frightening for a moment.

"I honestly forget how scary he can be," Harry said a little faintly, not used to seeing such a lovable man in an apron look ready to use that crossbow any second. Last time had been his first trip into the Forest, and that hadn't been pleasant either.

Saying he knew better now and that third task wouldn't be over soon enough. They couldn't trust any of them!

"That is so depressing," Lily sighed in sympathy for the poor guy.

Hagrid was in such a bad mood, Harry was relieved to say goodbye to him at the portrait hole. He went inside and at once went to tell his friends what had happened.

"Least you can tell them," Sirius was still pouting he was being left out of the loop till the very last as he passed the book to Harry.

HPHPHPHP

*I've mentioned that I would love nickname suggestions, now you know why. The ones I last used are the ones I like most, but really they're not sitting right with me. The Marauders gave themselves nicknames based on the actual animal's parts, whereas Roan and Fleetfoot just don't fit the pattern as well...

Finally saw Fantastic Beasts, just in time to further appreciate the adorableness of the nifflers in this chapter. I know I've failed as a fan, especially a Hufflepuff at that, by not having seen it long before now but stupid college life crap stopped me. Still, the movie was as beautiful and wonderful as everything with the HP name attached to it, especially for me as I freaked out every five seconds at getting to see all of those beautiful creatures. Let me know which one was your favorite from the movie! Mine was the occamy, kept whispering I want one under my breath in the theater and pissing off those around me, most beautiful gorgeous thing I've ever seen!

Also let me know what beast's you're hoping to see in the following movies, my fingers are crossed for a Horned Serpent like my Ilvermorny house!

In order of the nicknames appearing, suggested by:

MelodyGirl239- Willow/ Petal

MelodyGirl239/ Shakira94- Bambi

#the life that never lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Not Losing You (Part 2)

Summary: The reader goes on a date with Dean where they talk about Dean’s good news...

Masterlist

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Word Count: 7,000ish

Warnings: language, life-threatening illness, implied past sexual harassment/assault

_____

“Hey,” said Dean that night when you got to the restaurant. He was in a gorgeous suit and you smiled, Dean looking like he was ready to jump out of his skin. “I got the best news ever this afternoon.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, Dean humming as you went over to the bar to wait for your table.

“Oh, yeah. Also, you look beautiful,” he said, tilting his head at you. “Very beautiful.”

“Thank you, handsome,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “So what’s this good news?”

“My doctor called and said they found a matching donor. She’s gonna do it. I got a chance,” he said.

“That’s great!” you said, Dean smirking at you.

“He told me who it was,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “A certain Y/N Y/L/N. He said you just signed up yesterday.”

“Well, I figured I’d sign up to be on the list. I never thought I’d get called. I certainly never thought we’d end up matching,” you said.

“No. The odds...I should play the lottery,” he said.

“How about we take an okay feeling Dean first?” you asked.

“Yeah, I can get behind that,” he said, a waiter coming over to show you to your table.

Five minutes later you had a celebratory bottle of whiskey on the table, Dean’s face still in one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen.

“I don’t even care about having to deal with chemo for three solid weeks every day. Oh, I got my chance. I finally got my chance,” he said, pouring himself a refill.

“That part is gonna suck, huh,” you said.

“Big time. They’ll go hard. Basically they’re gonna wipe me out so when they take healthy cells from you and give them to me, those cells become my new ones. I’ll be on medication but who gives a fuck. I went from zero percent odds to like sixty something. I will take it,” he said.

“Wait. It’s not a hundred percent?” you asked, Dean munching on a roll and shaking his head. “Why?”

“Basically, my first like, month with your new cells, I’m gonna be in a special room to lessen the odds of me getting sick. I’ll basically have no immune system so if I catch a cold, I’m dead,” he said.

“That’s not fair,” you said.

“Y/N...I mean, I’m excited, don’t get me wrong. I haven’t been this excited since last night when I got to kiss you,” he said. You smiled and he laughed. “But there’s still a lot that can go wrong. All it is is a chance. I’ll take that over nothing any day.”

“It still sucks,” you said quietly.

“Wanna make a bet?” he asked.

“Shoot.”

“Two years from tonight, I bet I’m gonna make your night,” he said.

“You’re gonna make my night?” you teased. He nodded and smirked. “What does that even mean?”

“You gonna take the bet or what?” he asked.

“Two years…” you trailed off, closing your eyes.

“Sounds like you’re disagreeing which is awesome cause loser has to make the other cookies,” he said.

“Sure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“So I gotta ask. Why don’t you think I won’t be able to do it? You thinking I won’t be around or you’ll have wised up by then?” he smiled.

“I think you’re the biggest flirt of a man I’ve ever met,” you said, looking across the restaurant.

“It doesn’t answer the question,” he said.

“I’ve never been in a relationship that long,” you said with a shrug.

“Me either,” he said.

“I’ve never been in one more than a few weeks and not in years,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry. Not a first date topic. Maybe that’s why I’m hopeless.”

“Funny. Since I met you, there’s a lot more hope in my life,” said Dean. You glanced down at your lap and he tapped his foot against yours gently. “Most people when they find out about me, that’s when they leave. For some reason, you’re not running away yet. You actually choose to stay and that makes me feel better. I don’t know why but you do and I don’t care how many boyfriends, how many dates, how many times you’ve had sex, if you even have...I don’t care about that stuff. I like you. A lot. Somehow you’re my once in a lifetime shot at beating this thing too and...I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I don’t know. Just don’t get down over your previous lack of a love life. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be...unless it’s you of course cause so far, this is awesome.”

“Casanova, you are,” you said, taking a sip of whiskey.

“You know it,” he said with a wink. “You and me? Dream team right here. Going all the way.”

“So why did you really take me to an extremely nice restaurant for our first date?” you asked.

“I wanted to,” he said softly, the teasing in his voice disappearing. “I’m not gonna be feeling good for awhile or be able to go out for months and months. I thought it’d be nice if we had a really nice date. Is it really too much?”

“Yes...and no,” you said, smiling at him, holding up your glass. “We’re celebrating after all.”

“Yeah, we are,” he said toasting your glass. “You’re out of a bad job, I have a chance again and you get to look at my adorable face all night.”

“Must you always ruin the moment?” you laughed.

“Defense mechanism. You’ll get used to it,” he said, taking another bite of his roll. “Food too. I love food.”

“What’s your favorite-“

“Pie,” he said. “Any kind of pie. We’re so getting some for dessert.”

“You like pie that much huh?”

“Almost as much as I like you,” he said.

“You ever gonna cool it with the flirting, Casanova?” you asked, leaning over and stealing the last roll from the basket.

“With you? I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Alright, what’s the damage,” you said, reaching for the bill when it came but Dean swiped it away first. “I get the whole being a gentleman thing, I do. But you are not paying for the whole dinner.”

“How exactly are you going to pay a bill that doesn’t exist?” he said. You furrowed your brow and he took out the receipt.

“Uh, we have to pay that,” you said. He rolled his eyes and showed it to you. You were a little surprised at how big it was but seeing the discount line made you tilt your head. “Zero dollars?”

“Yup. It’s my present. Some rich woman set up a fund awhile ago at the hospital for adult transplant patients. We each get one fun thing to do each year and the fund covers it. I picked our dinner if that’s okay. Not to sound cheap just...I can’t really afford a place like this on a normal day,” he said.

“You picked our first date for your once a year thing?” you asked. “Dean, you should have used it on you.”

“I did. Last year I went to a football game with my brother. I like using it to do things with people,” he smiled. “Want to go walk off our dinner?”

“Sure,” you said.

A few minutes later you were walking down the sidewalk, a light chill to the air. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on your shoulders, the two of you walking quietly for a few minutes. He bumped his hand against yours before he brushed the back of it, doing it two more times before he pulled it back.

“Shy, Dean?” you asked. His gaze was obviously on you but you didn’t look up. “You can hold my hand if you want, you know.”

“I’m not shy,” he said, taking hold of your hand, your fingers intertwining. You smiled and looked down at them, seeing Dean looking ahead.

“You’re shy when you like someone, huh,” you said. “Not the cocky flirty front.”

“Like I said, defense mechanism,” he said quietly.

“I like shy boys too,” you said. “Cocky boys that turn out to be shy are my favorite.”

“You don’t feel sorry for me?” he asked.

“Sorry for what?” you asked.

“Me. My situation. I only ask because it can happen,” he said. “Been down that road before.”

“Well, I can tell you that I’d be happier if you were healthy but no, I don’t feel sorry for you,” you said as you stopped at a corner, turning in your heels to face him. “Got it?”

“Yes, mam,” he said, smirking at you, tugging you along to walk more with him. “Warm enough?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Good. So what’s-” he said, his phone going off. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. You can answer,” you said. Dean smiled and pulled it out, putting it to his ear.

“Hey, Sammy. I’m on a date so...yes I am...what do you want nerd...hey, calm down it’s not...Sam. It’s not a cure...of course I’m excited...I can manage...I said I can manage...don’t you dare call mom. Fine, you can come up some...yeah...starts Monday...alright, I’ll see you. Love ya...shut up bitch,” he said as he hung up, shaking his head. “Sorry. My little brother was returning my call was all.”

“Is he your only sibling?” you asked.

“Just us,” he said. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, yawning as you leaned against Dean hours later. He had his arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

“It’s late. I should get you home,” he said.

“Eh, we had fun,” you said, taking a deep breath. “You smell pretty.”

“Thank you,” he chuckled. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I thought they said you couldn’t drive?” you asked.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just right after something like that the doctors get leery,” he said as you wandered back down the sidewalk towards his car. “Rossy gave me the all clear.”

“Rossy?” you asked.

“Yeah. Dr. Ross. He hates it so naturally I call him Rossy. He calls me a smartass. I like him,” said Dean.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot.”

“How do you deal with finding out something like that?” you asked.

“Well I’m twenty nine now. I found out when I was twenty three so I’ve had more than a few years to deal with it. I had no symptoms. It popped up in a blood test after I went in for some stitches for a cut I got at work. I was told it needed to be watched in case it started to develop into something worse which around two years ago it did. I was told about three years without a transplant and it’s starting to look that way,” he said. “I mean, what was your reaction when I told you?”

“I was surprised.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much my gut reaction too,” he chuckled. “I thought I was too young but apparently not. Then I denied it was actually happening, then I was angry and then I was upset and got more upset and more upset and then Rossy took me down to the kiddie wing of the hospital. Kind of puts it into perspective when you see that. I still had time and he told me to use it so that’s what I’m trying to do.”

“I don’t know if I could handle it,” you said, stilling when he paused at a black muscle car. “I forgot to mention your car is pretty awesome.”

“Well Baby likes you too,” he said. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

“You live here?” asked Dean when he pulled up outside a house. “Like...here? No offense sweetheart but this ain’t exactly the safest part of town.”

“It’s cheap. It doesn’t bother me,” you said, giving him a smile he saw right through.

“The apartments in my complex gotta be better than…” he trailed off when you swallowed. “What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?”

“It’s nothing,” you said, putting a hand on the door. His other one grabbed your hand though and you slumped back into the seat.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Can you keep a secret?” you asked.

“Anything,” he said.

“I...don’t have a house,” you said.

“Okay…” said Dean. “Then why are we here?”

“It’s abandoned. I squat here,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Squat? Like...do you not have a home?” he asked.

“I was fired six months ago. I lost my house. I don’t…” you said, Dean staring at you. “It’s complicated. I know I lied. Sorry.”

“You’ve been staying in that house?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Or my car when I can’t find a place.”

“Where’s your car now?” he asked.

“Parked out back,” you said.

“Why don’t you get your car and follow me back to my place,” he said.

“Dean. I’m not going to spend the night,” you said.

“You are not sleeping in that house,” he said. “Either that or you let me pay for a hotel room.”

“Fine. Only one night.”

“Good morning,” said Dean when you woke up on his couch the next day. You remembered what had happened the night before and immediately pulled the blanket you’d been using over your face. “Oh, yes. Clearly you have disappeared and we won’t be having this conversation.”

“Can we forget that happened?” you asked, blanket being peeled back, Dean sitting on the edge of couch. He smiled and looked you over, running his hand over your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

“Alright,” you said.

“Monday when you were upset and pulled over. It didn’t even cross my mind until now...we were on a bridge,” he said. “Over the highway.”

“I was upset not...” you said, sitting upright and moving past him, ready to change out of his sweatshirt and into your dress and get the hell out of there.

“I didn’t say you were. I wanted to ask why you were upset that day is all,” he said. You sighed and stopped at the end of the couch, feeling Dean stand behind you. “You can tell me about your crap too. That’s part of a relationship.”

“I’m sorry but maybe this was a mistake,” you said. You finished heading into the bathroom, changing quickly. Dean was nowhere in sight when you left and you got out of there before he could try and stop you.

Monday Afternoon

“Hey,” you said, knocking on the door of Dean’s hospital room. You saw him walk out of the bathroom wearily, carrying a bin with him.

“What do you want,” he mumbled, crawling back into bed. He wrapped his blankets around himself and shivered, closing his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Just puking my guts out for funsies,” he said, wincing a little for a moment before he relaxed. “Chemo hits me hard is all and I asked what you wanted. I don’t need to see you, like at all.”

“Can I shut the door?” you asked.

“I don’t care. Just leave the way to the bathroom clear,” he said. You sighed as you closed the door to the room, Dean peeling open his eyes when you took a seat by the bed. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Are you willing to listen?” you asked quietly.

“Are you some kind of pathological liar?” he said, giving you a bitch face.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” you said. “You’re very kind and I’m...I’m not worth the trouble.”

“I’ll decide that for myself,” he said. He sat up some, shivering a little.

“I’ve been out of work since I was fired,” you said closing your eyes. “I can’t get a loan or an apartment because...my old boss keeps stopping anything I try from happening. Jobs. Places to live. I pissed him off when I said no and what happened after that...I could move to a different city but I don’t really have anywhere to go. It hits me sometimes that this is my life now and that’s what happened last Monday. I was...I was having a bad day.”

“I talk to you about the fact I’m dying yet you were too embarrassed to tell me that?” he asked.

“I know,” you said, looking down to your lap.

“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

You forced your head up, Dean closing his eyes briefly before he slowly opened them.

“My baby brother, Sam, he works for one of the best law firms in town. We can talk to him and he’s gonna help you out with this dick of an ex-boss. I’d go kick his ass but I’m not really capable at the moment.”

“Dean.”

“I understand being embarrassed, sweetheart. You have no idea. People treat you different when you tell them certain things. But you don’t have to do that with me,” he said.

“I don’t know how to trust people anymore, Dean. I’ve been on my own for so long and then that happened. I’m-”

“Human. A very pretty human,” he said gently. “People don’t want to be my friend anymore, sweetheart. They don’t talk to me. You’re the only person that’s not a doctor or my brother I’ve talked to in a week. I am the fucked up, vulnerable one in this relationship. You have bad luck. I’m-”

“Don’t call yourself fucked up,” you said, scoffing at him. “You’re kind. How is that fucked up?”

“There’s other stuff,” he said. “Stuff I’m not ready to talk about. Someday but not today.”

“Alright,” you said, grabbing his hand and resting your head on his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” you said.

“Can we agree from now on to stop being embarrassed in front of each other?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I can agree to that.”

“Awesome, cause I need to throw up again,” he said, quickly getting out of bed and jogging to the bathroom. You walked over and he was knelt down, shaking slightly as he caught his breath.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked, bending over and rubbing his back, Dean sighing.

“That feels nice,” he said. “Can you go ask a nurse where the fuck my anti-nausea medicine is?”

“Okay. I’ll go get someone,” you said. You kissed his temple, Dean smiling when he looked up at you. “Is it okay that I did that?”

“Sweetheart. I have cancer, not the black plague. You can still kiss me,” he chuckled. “Until otherwise noted, okay? I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. I’ll uh, I’ll go find a nurse.”

“Sup, Dean,” said a very tall man that walked into Dean’s room a few hours later.

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean, lowering the volume on the TV. “Sam, this is Y/N.”

“Didn’t you two break up?” asked Sam. “After your first date?”

“Nah. You must be confused,” said Dean, smiling at you. “I don’t know how she did it but somehow the nurses fear her. She got me my medicine like that.”

“You’re the marrow donor too from what Dean said,” said Sam as he took a seat in the other empty chair.

“Yeah. It’s very strange how it worked out,” you said.

“I ain’t complaining,” said Dean, getting out of bed again.

“Stomach still upset?” you asked.

“No. Nature calls,” he said, slipping inside the bathroom. Sam gave you a long look and you frowned.

“What?” you asked.

“Listen. I know who you are but I don’t care. You’re helping my brother and that’s all that matters,” he said. You blinked slowly a few times, narrowing your eyes when you took in what he said.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I’m not it,” you said.

“You’re not the Y/N Y/L/N who worked at Borris & Longworth?” he asked.

“I used to work there but-”

“But yeah. I know who you are,” said Sam, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you stay away from my brother. Just donate the marrow and get lost.”

“Samuel,” barked through the room, Dean’s brow furrowed as Sam spun around in his seat. “If I had the energy, I’d punch you in the face, got it?”

“Don’t date this chick is all I’m saying. She’s bad news,” said Sam.

“Oh. I see you’re a believer of bullshit too,” said Dean, sitting back on the bed, shooting Sam a dirty look. “Why don’t you act like a real lawyer and get your facts straight before you threaten someone I care about, threaten someone that may end up saving my life because she wanted to donate. Don’t turn into an asshole like those pricks you work with, Sam. Just don’t. If that’s what you are now, then just leave. I’d rather remember you the way you were.”

“You’re not dying,” said Sam.

“Yeah, Sam, I am. I started chemo and radiation will start soon and in three weeks, I have the procedure done. I have a sixty two percent shot of surviving the transplant. Sixty two is a hell of a lot better than zero. It’s not a guarantee. It’s a chance. Time is the only proof of being better I’ll have. That is all I will ever get. There is no cure or guarantee. I am dying. If you’re gonna be rude to the one person who has willingly come into my life during this, then you can go,” said Dean.

Sam was quiet, staring at his lap while Dean crossed his arms and went back to watching TV.

“Sam,” you said. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

You stood and exited the room, Sam following after a moment. You wandered down the hall to the waiting area, taking a seat and resting your head in your hands.

“I know what Liam says about me,” you said. He took a seat beside you, still before he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.

“It’s not true, is it,” he said.

“He was the one that did those things to me,” you said, Sam wide eyed for a moment.

“Y/N. Why did you never go to the police if that’s true?”

“Because his Uncle is the commissioner. His Aunt worked at the bank my home loan was through. His family ruined my reputation in town so I can’t get a job better than a fast food place and even then, I get fired pretty randomly from those for bullshit reasons I know is him paying off people. He’s made my life a living hell. Everyone buys into it. Everyone but your brother,” you said. You took a deep breath and sighed.

“You’re saying he’s the one that sexually harassed you and...in that board room…” he said.

“Dean doesn’t know about the board room and I’d rather he not,” you said.

“Can I ask why?”

“Because it was humiliating and degrading and Dean has enough shit going on than my fucked up life. I don’t want him to worry or think about it all. He should focus on himself right now,” you said.

“You obviously are still getting to know my brother.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I honestly don’t care if you believe me or not. Do not upset your brother. Stress isn’t good for him.”

“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you anyway,” said Sam.

“You were biting my head off not five minutes ago,” you said.

“...well if you’re the kind of person that wants to be with my brother given his situation, I seriously doubt you’re the kind of person who hurts someone else and then lies about it. Liam has always given me the creeps on the rare occasion I’ve met him. I’ll take your word over his,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Y/N. Thank you. For helping Dean. If I can help you with Liam, I will,” he said.

“I can’t afford a lawyer. I can’t afford anything,” you said as you stood up.

“You’re giving my brother a chance which is more than I can say I’m doing. Let me see what I can dig up,” he said.

“If you could just help it so I can get a decent job, that’s all I want,” you said.

“My fiance owns her own business. She’s looking for a second set of hands. It’s not much right now, it’s still a startup, but I can guarantee Liam can’t get you fired from that job,” he said.

“I’ll take it,” you said. “I’ll need time off in a few weeks for the transplant but-”

“Don’t worry about that. Jess wants Dean to get better too,” he said. You nodded and started to head back towards the room, Sam grunting. “Y/N. We need to sit down sometime and have a serious conversation about what exactly Liam did, what he’s still doing.”

“I know. Right now I just want to check on Dean though,” you said.

“Alright. Let me know when you’re ready to talk and we’ll do it.”

“Well look at you,” you said, smirking when you walked into Dean’s hospital room on Friday afternoon. “I like the new look.”

“A patch came out yesterday in the shower, I decided to just shave it off,” said Dean, running his hand over his head.

“Well I was hoping you wouldn’t need this yet but I brought you a present,” you said. You dug into your purse and pulled out a beanie, Dean chuckling at it.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, tugging it down over his head. “No presents though. You’re on limited funds still.”

“Well the one benefit of working for such a small business is that I got paid this week,” you said.

“Really? That’s great. So you like working on Jess’ t shirt shop?” he asked.

“Actually, yeah. I’m helping clean up the business side so she can focus on her designs. She seems really happy with me so far so there’s that,” you said.

“You better still be crashing in my apartment,” he said.

“I am. I’ll get my own place real soon,” you said.

“Stay. I’m going to be in this hospital for at least a few months,” said Dean. “Another week or so and then they’ll stick me in a different room when my immune system gets pretty weak. Then a week after that, they should end up zapping me and putting your marrow in me and then I go to a different special room to hang out by myself for a long time while my immune system tries to rebuild itself. Apparently it’s got a window and telecom so I can still tell you how hot you are.”

“We have to work on your priorities,” you said, Dean scooting over on his bed.

“Well come on, I have limited cuddle opportunities,” he said. You rolled your eyes and sat up next to him, Dean throwing his arm over your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. “That’s better.”

“How’d it go today?” you asked.

“I’m sick of it,” he said. “But I have to do it in order to kill my own immune system. It’s gonna get worse. I’m not looking forward to it.”

“What time do you have it tomorrow?” you asked.

“First thing. Why?”

“Can I come?”

“They come to my room and do it. It’s not anything special,” he said.

“Still. You spend a lot of time alone here. If you don’t mind that is,” you said.

“No, I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “I’d like it if I had some company.”

“I’ll be here,” you said. He kissed the top of your head and you smiled. “You’re so handsome.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, his cheeks flushing briefly. “Especially not anymore.”

“You have no idea how wrong you are,” you said, tilting your head and kissing his lips. He sucked in a breath, a soft smile on his face. “Very, very handsome.”

“Y/N,” he said, warm air pooling over your face.

“Yes, Dean?” you said, brushing your nose over his.

“I got this problem, you see. I think I’m starting to fall for you. But the thing is, I promised myself that if I started to do that, I’d tell you,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. Honestly, it’s too fast. Like way too fast and odds are-”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you said. Dean titled his head and you smiled, brushing your lips over his. “Do I look like I care about whatever the fuck society says is an acceptable waiting period to tell someone you like them?”

“No,” he breathed out. “Then again, we’ve never been traditional.”

He kissed you gently, putting a hand on your cheek. Just as you were starting to melt into it he broke away and sat up, coughing hard. You went up with him and rubbed his back, Dean sounding like he was hacking something up before he got his breath back.

“I can’t even kiss you without feeling like shit,” he said.

“Let’s just cuddle,” you said, pulling him back down when you thought he was ready.

“Yeah. Yeah a cuddle sounds pretty good right now.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hey,” said Sam, poking his head in your hospital room with a smile. “How’d it go?”

“Okay. I’m a little achy but they said that was expected after them taking marrow. I can go home later today but I figured Dean’s getting his first treatment this afternoon and I wanted to say hi first,” you said.

“Yeah, he sent me down to check on you, told me to wait on you hand and foot if needed,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m good. If you could help me out of bed so I can go see Dean that’d be great,” you said. He stepped over and put an arm around you, helping you stand for a moment.

“How bad does it hurt?” asked Sam.

“Not really. Dean’s the one I’m concerned about,” you said, Sam carrying most of your weight as you started to head out.

“You know that whole Liam thing…” said Sam. “I looked into it this week.”

“And?”

“And I brought it to my old law school professor. I don’t trust anyone else at my firm. He says you have a major case. Like, Liam himself is fucked but so is a lot of his family that covered stuff up for him or paid people off. He says there are really good odds that you can be paid damages for everything you’ve gone through and the missed work and the house and all of it. He’ll work it pro bono he said if this is the road you want to go down,” said Sam.

“I can’t keep living my life with him destroying so much of it. Things are looking up for me and I can’t worry about him anymore,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll keep working it then,” said Sam. He was quiet as you made your way upstairs to the special room Dean had been staying in the past few days. He was weak and they needed to minimize his chance of catching anything. “Hey, jailbird. I brought you a visitor.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” said Dean, better looking than you were expecting. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Hip’s a little sore but I’ll survive,” you said with a smile, Sam setting you down in the seat by the window. “You nervous?”

“Nah. I’m ready for it,” he said with a smile. “If this is the last conscious conversation we have, I got to say, I really regret never getting to have a proper makeout session with you.”

“Always the flirt,” you said, Dean chuckling quietly. “Dean.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got a pretty good reason to keep living. I got to make you fall in love with me afterall,” he teased.

“I’m gonna be right here in this chair with Sam and Jess when you wake up, okay?” you said.

“You three are gonna sit in the same chair?” he giggled.

“You’ll be fine, Winchester,” you said, Dean smiling softly. “You want anything for when you wake up?”

“Can you make sure I get an extra blanket in here?” he asked.

“Sure thing, babe,” you said, spotting Dr. Ross come down the hall. “Alright, Dean. Here goes nothing.”

One Week Later

“What does that mean,” said Sam, the both of you scowling in the waiting area just outside the room Dean was recovering in. “He was fine yesterday.”

“His white cell count was rising but it started to taper off last night and this morning’s test showed he’s down again,” he said.

“It means Dean’s body isn’t building it’s own marrow back up from mine,” you said. “Right?”

“In layman’s terms, he’s not adapting as well to the new marrow as we hoped for. He needs that to build up his immune system which without one...it’s a death sentence,” he said.

“Take more,” you said.

“Take more what?” asked Dr. Ross.

“Of my marrow,” you said. He closed his eyes and you stood up. “I’m fine. Take more and give it to him.”

“Marrow is a cell like anything else in your body. You need a certain amount. Think of it like blood donation. You can only donate so much blood before it’s problematic for the donor. I’m sorry but your body needs more time to regenerate what was taken,” he said.

“Take. One. More,” you said, Dr. Ross raising his chin. “My body can handle it. I’ll stay in the hospital a few days or however long to recover but just take it. All three of us know I’m the only one that can do it and odds are if he doesn’t get more, he dies. So just take one more damn sample. Please.”

“One more sample,” said Dr. Ross. “If we’re doing this, we need to do this now, understand?”

“Don’t worry about work,” said Sam. “Jess is cool with it. It’s fine. Whatever we gotta do to help Dean, we’ll do it.”

“You will need to rest in bed. No walking around, no visiting Dean after this. I will strap you down if I have to. Have I made myself clear?” said Dr. Ross.

“Yes. Anything to help Dean out, even a little.”

“Hi,” said Jess when you woke up that evening. She was munching on some pasta and offered you some before you shook your head. “Sam’s with Dean so I figured I’d keep an eye on you.”

“I feel like shit,” you said, reaching for some water before she handed it to you.

“Dean’s numbers bounced back to where they’re supposed to be at this point,” she said.

“Good,” you breathed out, closing your eyes again.

“So while the boys are away, I got a slight business proposal for ya,” she said.

“Jess, I’m too tired to think about work,” you said. “I wrote instructions in the spreadsheet.”

“No, not work work. You’re really smart, way smarter than I’ll ever be at the business stuff. I was wondering if instead of me being in charge you’d want to be partners,” she said.

“Partners?” you asked, opening your eyes.

“Yeah. 50/50. You do more work than I do nowadays. It’s not the most money in the world but I think together we could really do something big, like expand and do even local stuff, not just online,” she said.

“What’s the catch?” you asked. “I don’t have any money to put in right now.”

“I know. We don’t need more money right now. I could really use your help though. You know how to sell stuff and plan and budget. I could really use you,” she said.

“Alright,” you said with a nod and a smile. “Deal.”

“Awesome. Now try some of this fettuccini, it’s amazing.”

“Hey, Dr. Ross,” you said, wearily opening your eyes late that night after Jess and Sam had gone home. “How’s Dean?”

“Stable. Not out of the woods yet,” he said, looking over your chart.

“He would have died without the extra transplant, wouldn’t he,” you said.

“The odds weren’t in his favor. We took a larger sampling than before which is why you may be feeling a bit run down. You can’t give again no matter what happens with Dean, not for a few months at least,” he said. “Is that clear?”

“Yes,” you said. “What do you think Dean’s chances are?”

“You’re not a family member so technically I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this,” he said.

“Rossy,” you said, the doctor smirking for a moment.

“I’d say he has a fifty percent chance of keeping his numbers building. If he makes it through that and to the fourth week, I think it goes up a little. The next year will be the most telling. He could have a completely normal life after this. He needs to survive the next few days first though,” he said.

“So there’s a fifty percent chance of that?” you asked. Dr. Ross pursed his lips and glanced down. “Worse?”

“The need for the second injection...it doesn’t bode well,” he said.

“Give me a number.”

“I’d say he’s got a 50% chance of deteriorating again. If that happens...it’s unlikely he can recover from it,” he said. You nodded, Dr. Ross setting your chart back down but he paused by the end of the bed.

“His numbers are starting to go down again, aren’t they.”

“They stopped building from earlier in the evening. It’s not a good sign. Odds are...would you like to go see him?” he asked. You nodded and he helped you into a wheelchair, pushing you to the elevators before you took off on Dean’s floor, stopping outside the window, Dean barely awake.

“Hey. There’s my gorgeous girl,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m kinda tired sweetheart if that’s okay.”

“It’s okay. You can go to sleep, Dean. I’ll be right here,” you said. He gave a small nod and you saw his heartbeat slow on the monitor, Dr. Ross telling you he was fast asleep. “Thanks for letting me talk to him again. How fast...if his numbers drop...how fast will it...”

“Probably sometime tomorrow,” he said. “Could be a little longer. We don’t know anything yet but it’s not looking good. Tonight will be very telling.”

“Can I stay here for a while?” you asked, your bottom lip quivering.

“Yes. Just let a nurse know when you want to go back,” he said before he turned to go. “Y/N. You gave him a chance...and some happiness. That’s more than he ever wanted.”

“He deserves better,” you said.

“Most people do,” he said as he walked away. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Going back to your room would be the easy thing to do.

You released the air in your lungs and tried to get comfortable before you decided to sit through what was going to be the longest night of your life.

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

Text

Geralt x reader We're Married? Part 1

Hey guys, thank you so much for all the love for my other story! I was so nervous posting it and you guys were just the best💕 this story was harder to write and I'm not sure it's as good as the other one but I'm gonna post it anyway.

This can be read as a part 3 to the injured reader story:)

Part 2 here

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, blood, mentions of death, mentions of past sexual abuse.

*********************

Out of all the places you'd traveled too with the witcher, this had to be one of the nicest.

As you walked through the kingdom known as Servia you couldn't help but stare at everything around you. Vendors lined the streets selling everything you could possibly imagine, shining jewelry, beautifully woven fabrics, and oooooooh well well well what do we have here!!!

You made a beeline for the tray of freshly baked pastries, a seductive look on your face,

"Well hello boys...which one of you wants to come home with me hehehe, or perhaps I should take you all home? Oooh your so bad hehe, well if you insist hahahahaha".

From afar Geralt sighed and Jaskier just looked on with disturbing confusion, "Geralt? What exactly is she doing?" His face twisted uncomfortablely as you continued talking and giggling like a maniac.

"She has a thing about....desserts" Geralt closed his eyes and shuddered as he remembered the one time he left you alone in an inn and you used up all of his coin to order one of literally everything on the menu. He practically had to roll you away afterwards.

"My God geralt shes scaring the baker now".

Jaskier scrunched his mouth as he watched you continue to whisper to the pastries, completely unaware of the weird looks people were giving you." I swear brothel whores are more subtle.."

Geralt grunted and made his way over to you, "We'll uh...take however much this will get us" he placed a coin in the bakers hand and watched your eyes glint like a maniac when he handed you the box.

"There now that you have your sweets, can we please hurry! We can't be late!" Jaskier pleaded pushing you in the correct path again.

"Alright alright no more stops I promise....wait does anyone else smell chocolate?" You look around frantically.

"NO" the both of them shout in unison and drag you forward.

"Ugh ok, I was just asking geez.."you pout.

"Remind me again who we're meeting?" You questioned, looking up at Jaskier who rolled his eyes back at you.

"Ugh how many times do I have to tell you?!"

"His name is Yavert, hes the advisor of the royal family here and he also happens to be the man who requested our help".

You nodded your head, "oh yes I remember now" ok you actually had no idea what he was talking about but whatever, you'll figure it out.

Some time later you found yourselves gawking at the massive architecture that was the Castle de Servia. Calling it massive would be doing it a disservice. The structure went higher than your eyes could see and wider than any other castle you've been to. "Holy fuck.." Jaskier whispered in awe.

Geralt shook his head as if he was already fed up with it all, "let's go"

The guards led you through the castle and into a small side room. Red carpets lined the floors along with a beautiful mahogany table. The walls had several portraits, obviously of the royal family. You saw an older man, a woman, and a young girl about your age all ornately painted. Hmm why do people always look so upset in portraits. Couldn't the artist just add a smile?

A creak at the door gained everyone's attention. A man, probably in his mid fifties, entered. He was balding and on the fluffier side, dressed in a puffy sleeved shirt, with a velvet red vest over it.

"Welcome, please, have a seat, you all must be tired from your jouney" he said gesturing to the chairs.

"You have no idea what a relief it is to have you here Geralt of Rivia" a look of exhaustion fell over face.

"So what's the job" Geralt asked, straight to the point as usual.

The man looked uncomfortable for a moment before he scooted closer and leaned in as if he was telling a secret,

"Well..our...problem, began a few weeks ago when the alliance between Targeris and our own kingdom was official. Since then there have been several banquets of celebration, as there are still many things being discussed and processed. One of those being the upcoming wedding of our Princess Annora and their Prince Edgrin. Hence the big celebration we are having this evening, an engagement party of sorts."

"And the problem?" Geralt cocked a brow.

The man swallowed before continuing, "Well..since the alliance, there have been disappearances..."

"Dissapearances?" You echoed interested.

"Important Servia officials have suddenly been going missing..the first on the night the kings signed the peace agreement, the second when the marriage was announced.. and then.." he looked around wearily and lowered his voice even more, "things have gotten much worse.."

"How exactly did they get worse" Geralt inquired, suspicious of how Yavert was acting.

"At the last party, about a week ago, one of our ambassadors was found dead.."

Geralt narrowed his eyes, "what aren't you saying.."

The man gulped, " it was the way he died, no man could have..." he paused closing his eyes, obvious memories making him shudder. "No man could have done it, it had to be a monster".

"How can you be so sure?" You asked leaning in now intrigued.

"The body..was so mangled we could barely identify the man. His innards were ripped out and his eyes...they were gone. Clearly it was the work of a beast."

Geralt narrowed his brows, "I have never encountered a monster before that hand picks their pray." You nodded in agreement.

All the monsters you'd faced just destroyed everything in their path. And why would a monster suddenly decide to start targeting officials from Servia? It just doesnt make any sense.

"Please witcher, help us with finding and slaying the creature and we will pay whatever means necessary" he placed a large pouch in front of us.

"Hmm" geralt thought for a few moments, then turned to you wordlessly asking your opinion. A new habit that did make you feel more like partners.

You shrugged your shoulders in a "why not?" Sort of way.

"Alright what the hell.." he grabbed the pouch and stood up.

"Wait, theres a few more things you need to know.." Geralt sat back down with a grunt.

"It is important that you are discreet, no one can know who you or your companions are, not even the king and queen themselves.."

"What?!" Your eyes widened.

"They dont know?" Geralt asked completely bewildered.

"I have advised the king and queen since they first began their reign many years ago. They trust me with their lives I would never lie to them...except..." he sighed and continued, "we have been at odds with targeris for so long, and finally peace is withing our grasp.

But if the king catches wind of what's going on, he will no doubt blame Targeris. Our king is good, but his fault lies with his hate for Targeris. It took much convincing from everyone to finally have the king agree to peace. But he would quickly jump to accuse them. I have no doubt a war would begin if this were to happen...for the sake of peace, they cannot know.." he looked down in shame.

"And the king just doesn't notice all these officials have gone missing?" Geralt shook his head in disbelief.

"Well...we have done our best to cover them up...but the king is getting suspicious, which is why we need to figure out what exactly is going on before anything else happens."

Everything about this job just seemed off. A monster who hand picks their prey, disappearing officials, and the king hasnt even the slightest idea?

"How are we supposed to find this monster without having our identities revealed?" You cocked your head in question.

"Ah yes well, I have prepared an airtight alias for the both of you, after all if you're going to fool people, you will need real identities"

"Fool people? Why cant we just stay in the shadows until something pops up?". Monster hunting in your experience was much easier when there weren't people around. Probably monster hunting rule #1.

"Unfortunately you would not be able to as the king has eyes and ears everywhere, it would not be long before youd be questioned and ultimately found out." Yavert explains.

"Alright.." you say hesitantly, "So how are we supposed to track the monster then?

"So far all the accidents have occurred during nightfall. By blending in as elite members of society, no one will question you as you move about, not even the royal family."

God this just keeps getting more confusing..

"So not only do we have to worry about finding a seemingly brilliant monster, but also worry about being found out?" Jaskier piped in for the first time this entire conversation.

"Yes that's correct.." he nodded slowly.

"Unfortunately I was only able to manage 2 identities, you will be known as Sir and Lady Trestin. A well known name, although the couple is known for not socializing so the risk of someone recognizing that you're not them is extremely low, here are your official invitations you will have to present at the door." He slid some documents our way.

"Wait I'm sorry did you say couple? As in couple of friends? Couple of siblings? Couple of cousins??" Surely he didnt mean-

"The lady and sir Tristan and husband and wife..is that a problem?" He questioned eyebrow raised.

"No of course not.." Um maybe a little! Sure I've fantasized about it before *cough* but now to actually act it out?? This was going to be an adventure for sure..

"What about me?" Jaskier pipes in again.

"You can be our dog" Geralt says not missing a beat.

"Oh that's low geralt" he recoils dramatically.

"How about servant boy?" You offer with a shrug.

"Do I have to?" He gives a puppy dog look to Yavert.

"I'm afraid it's the only way" Yavert smiled slightly.

"Alright, now then, this is the address you will go to for preperation my lady and for the sirs, you'll come with me" you all stood up and parted ways.

Geralt as your husband? This could actually be fun..

‐------------------------------------------------

"OUCH" you yelled for the thousandth time at the stupid woman who's mission was to tighten your corset until your eyes popped out.

"I'm sorry my lady but this must be done.." you sighed holding the wall for support.

"Especially a lady as...." she trailed off.

"Curvy as you.." did this bitch just?!?!

"You're job is to get me ready not tell me I've eaten too many sweets in my day" you rolled your eyes.

"Besides its nearing winter, I need the extra fluff for survival purposes"

"Well I think a little extra meat on a girl is highly attractive" a new voice chimed in.

"Jaskier? When did you get here?" You couldn't help out the small laugh when you truly got a good look at him. He wore the typical servants garb but his hair had been slicked back. He looked like a boiled egg.

"Don't you laugh too! I swear you and Geralt are so mean to me" he dejectedly sprawled himself out on a cushioned chair.

"Speaking of.." you looked at the door, "Where is he?"

"Hes still getting ready, a sir takes much longer than a mere servant." You laughed at his miserable tone.

"Oh lighten up Jaskier, servant boys have plenty of fun at these parties too, I'm sure some lady will see your puppy face and take you in" you smirked.

"Let's hope so.." another girl came in this time holding a few brightly colored dresses in her arms.

"Turn around boy" the older woman scolded.

"And you, arms up!" You complied as she slid the softest fabric you've ever felt over your body.

Your turned to look at the mirror, "Eww gross no way, Jaskier look! I'm a pineapple!" You both laughed annoying the girls. "Alright next!"

*insert shopping montage with corny music here*

"This one?"

Nods head

Next!

Both nod heads

Maybe? Actually nevermind..

Eww what even is this color barf in the spring??

WAIT! HELL YES!

Jaskier nods in agreement.

*Montage ends*

An hour later you were ready, the beautuful _____ colored gown was the perfect shape on your body. It wasnt like most of the boring dresses you had tried on. And you decided to ditch the corset..

"It isnt proper!" One scolded.

"But you have to admit, it's a hell of alot sexier.." Jaskier nodded looking over me.

"Plus I can actually breathe!" And besides how were you supposed to fight monsters if you couldn't move? You left that part out obviously.

The girls just shook their heads in exasperation and finished up your hair and make up in another room.

"There now you're ready" the ladies smiled in satisfaction and left. You thanked them and made your way out to where Jaskier was.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, "Y/n! You look amazing! Although you always look beautiful" he smirked taking your arm.

"Thank you Jaskier, after everything those ladies put me through I better look like a fucking goddess" you both laughed remembering how he had to hold you down while they waxed your legs.

Together you left the shop and you swore for a moment you forgot how to breathe. Now Geralt in full body armor is one thing, but princely Geralt? Well your dreams were Surely going to be wild tonight. Never had you seen the witcher so finely pressed before. It was very...refreshing.

His gaze rose as he finally noticed the two of you. You forgot how to breathe when he looked over you. "Well? What do you think?" You asked a little embarrassed.

"Well...no one will be questioning who you are when you're looking like that" the corner of his lips rose slighty and he stepped to the side, gesturing us into the waiting carriage.

That was a compliment right?? He meant like because you look so beautiful so one is going to ask questions right? Not, well you look like a snooty aristocrat so no one will question???? Ok I'm going with the first one. Stop overthinking geez.

The ride to the castle was quick and soon you were arm in arm with your "husband".

"Come along boy, don't dawdle" geralt teased behind him.

"Dont be mean" you lightly shoved him but couldn't help but laugh as well.

"What great friends I have.."he mumbled....

******************

Ok so that's part 1, lemme know if it's any good. Also I'm kinda new to this so I don’t know the tagging etiquette lol so I just tagged whoever asked. Also part 2 will be uploaded tonight too as soon as I finish editing xoxo

@marvels-gurl @shane-isa-shame @waitingtobeimpressed @viking-raider @dream-alittlebiggerdarling

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janaikam · 4 years

Link

Hi hi, I’m back with another commission for @multibug through the @mlbforblm drive. The drive still has 16 more days left and you can commission me or other artists/writers/content creators! All your money is going towards a good cause!

I hope you enjoy this very interesting fic!

Summary: Ladybug catches Alya and Chat sneaking around one night. What on earth are her kitty and best friend up to?

Chat Noir glanced around the empty street nervously. A nearby light flickered, struggling to stay lit. He hoped that it would stay lit, otherwise the street would be bathed in darkness. His night vision would help him see, but it definitely wouldn’t help the person he was meeting.

Why did they have to meet in the middle of the night? Why not a bit before dawn? At least then the sun could start lighting things up.

The sudden screech of bike brakes caused Chat to jump up almost a foot in the air. Quickly looking around, Chat let out a sigh of relief once he saw who it was.

“Are you scared, Chat Noir?” Alya said, walking into view.

“N-n,” Chat cleared his throat. “No, I’m not scared. I’m just worried someone might catch us. ‘Cause you know we’re supposed to keep this on the down-low.”

Alya rolled her eyes, taking a step closer to Chat, leaving hardly any space between them. He could feel Alya’s breath and how it was coming out in quick little bursts, which probably meant she biked out here pretty quickly. Made sense since she technically is supposed to be home asleep at this hour.

“We’re not doing anything bad. Besides no one comes on this side of town anyway, so we won’t be caught,” Alya whispered.

Times like these, he hated his super senses. Alya smelled like cinnamon, and it was driving him crazy. Maybe if he thought about something else he could push the overpowering scent of cinnamon away.

Chat gulped. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right!” Alya pushed a yellowish envelope into Chat’s arms. “I need you to get these things for me, okay?” Chat nodded. “Good, I’ll see you Saturday at 23.”

Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Alya turned back towards her bike.

Chat watched as Alya disappeared into the darkness before leaping onto a nearby building. He couldn’t wait until Saturday.

XXX

Ladybug stood shocked from her position on a roof not far from where Alya and Chat had been standing. She had just been doing a midnight patrol in the area, when she happened to spot Chat. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, she hadn’t gotten the chance to swing down to him before Alya appeared. Which begged the question what exactly were Chat and Alya doing, meeting up this late at night?

Were Chat and Alya secretly dating?

No, that’s impossible! There had to be some other explanation for what Ladybug had just witnessed. Right?

It’s not like two people can’t kiss if they aren’t dating. Yeah. Yeah.

Besides Alya was dating Nino and Chat was dating that girl…who could totally be Alya.

Oh no. This couldn’t end well. Because if what she thought was happening is actually happening then that means her best friend-NO!!!

Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Not gonna consider that.

For all she knew, this was just a meeting to set up for an interview or something that Chat was doing for Alya. Yeah, that had to be it.

She totally wasn’t going to try and figure out where they were meeting Saturday…

Well, it wouldn’t hurt anyone right? It would give Ladybug peace of mind, and that’s what really mattered.

XXX

Despite their desire to sneak around, Chat and Alya were pretty easy to find.

So her tracker may have helped her, but it’s Chat’s own fault for not turning it off. He could have easily decided to wear a disguise like that stupid banana suit. Actually that might’ve drawn a lot more attention to them...

Okay so it didn’t really matter how she found them, but it did matter where she found them.

Le Palais du Fromage.

A fancy restaurant that Marinette had dreamed of going to ever since they opened 5 years ago. Getting a reservation there was practically impossible unless you were someone important.

She had always imagined herself there tasting all their different cheese platters and getting stuff on just entrees, yet leaving just enough room for dessert. Especially the one that included camembert. Gosh, she loved camembert.

Shaking away the thoughts of camembert, Ladybug watched as Chat and Alya walked up to the door. It was odd to her because the restaurant closed every day at 22:00 sharp. It was also pretty clear to her just looking at the restaurant. All of the outside chairs had been placed leaning against the table. The inside lights had been turned off save for a few in the back. Probably just the kitchen light or something.

Alya was wearing a fancy red dress that seemed to hug her perfectly in all the right ways, while Chat had somehow put on a suit over his costume. She had to admit they looked very snazzy.

When they reached the door, Chat knocked three times, and the door opened. The pair rushed inside, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Ladybug’s jaw dropped.

How on earth did they get a reservation when the restaurant is closed??? What were they even doing that warranted them going to a fancy restaurant late at night?

Purrhaps to have a secret midnight date.

Nope. Not happening on her watch. She was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

Getting up, Ladybug swung down to the front of the restaurant and knocked on the door.

Initially, no one came to the door, though she could hear the silent whispers of people arguing. Likely arguing about whether to answer the door or not.

Knocking again, the whispers stopped, and this time someone answered the door. The young man that answered the door had blonde hair that had been gelled back so it didn’t get in his face. He had on a dark red vest paired with a black dress shirt and pants.

His sea-blue eyes grew to the size of saucers once he realized it was Ladybug at the door.

“L-ladybug! Wh-uh what brings you by at this hour?” The doorman glanced at something behind him. What? Ladybug couldn’t tell from her position.

“I was just patrolling nearby and noticed the lights were on. Wanted to make sure everything was okay because I know you guys normally close at-I MEAN! You’re normally closed at this time.” Ladybug let out a little laugh, slightly embarrassed she almost painted herself as a restaurant stalker.

“Everything is good here! Heh, a few of us are just, uh…” The man in front of her looked back again, panicked. “We’re, uh, just doing some inventory! Yeah, inventory! That’s what we’re doing late at night. Totally not suspicious at all. Heh.”

If Ladybug didn’t know any better, she’d say they were running some kind of underground mafia business here or maybe even a secret butterfly cave. But she knew he was likely just hiding the fact that Chat Noir was there for some reason.

“If you don’t mind, I would love to check and make sure everything is okay?” Ladybug blinked innocently.

“Umm...yeah. Let me just check with the manager for a quick second.”

Ladybug heard a soft groan from behind the doorman, but she ignored it in favor of smiling.

“Thank you so much! It shouldn’t take long, I just want to make sure the citizens of Paris are all safe!”

Safe from my wrath that is.

XXX

“And here is our private dining room. You can hold about 100 people here. Perfect for birthday parties and the like,” the manager, Mr. Colby Jacques, informed Chat and Alya.

Chat had to admit that the dining room looked amazing. There was an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which reflected the light through thousands of little diamonds. The walls were covered in stunning paintings of famous chefs from around the world. On one end there was a window with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.

“Wow,” Alya breathed, looking around.

“This is perfect!” Chat exclaimed, slowly spinning around and taking in the beauty of the room.

Ladybug would love this.

Mr. Jacques smiled at the two teens’ reactions. “Yes, this dining room is very popular among our guests. If you will follow me-”

“Sir!” One of the waiters, who had stayed behind to help, ran up to the trio.

“What is it, Jean Pierre? We have very important guests.” Mr. Jacques looked very irritated at his employee’s interruption. Chat guessed that if he and Alya weren’t standing right next to him, the poor man would’ve been fired on the spot.

“U-uh, umm,” the waiter fumbled, nerves clearly overtaking him.

“Out with it boy!”

The sudden outburst from the store owner surprised Chat and Alya, causing them both to jump a little.

Mr. Jacques noticed them jump and immediately straightened and fixed his tie. “My apologies, I did not mean to shout. It’s just we don’t want the kitchen staff to be waiting all night. What is it, Jean Pierre?”

Years of high society training told Chat that the kitchen staff being held back was the least of Mr. Jacques’ worries. He was obviously more concerned about the Chat and Alya’s business here at the restaurant, and he was just trying to save face.

Maybe this wasn’t the purrfect place after all.

One glance at Alya and he knew she was thinking along the same lines as him.

“Uh, Ladybug is at the door, and um, she wants to come in and, um, make sure everything is okay.” Jean Pierre got out softly.

Oh. Oh, this was bad. Ladybug being here could ruin the whole surprise.

Alya shared his worried look, but it seemed that Mr. Jacques did not. In fact, it appeared that he forgot the whole reason why the pair needed to come after hours.

“Did you tell her we were closed?”

Jean Pierre nodded frantically. “Yes, yes. Philipe told her, but she’s insisting to come in and check the place out.”

One of Mr. Jacques’ eyes twitched in frustration. “I will go deal with this. Please show our guests to the kitchen, and don’t mess this up.”

The last part was whispered to Jean Pierre, but with his super-hearing, Chat was able to hear it clearly. Yeah, they weren’t going to pick this place for the surprise.

But if Mr. Jacques couldn’t keep Ladybug away then there would be no surprise anymore. He could only hope that the pretentious manager could hold back Paris’ (and quite possibly the world’s) greatest superhero.

Yeah, there probably wasn’t going to be a surprise anymore.

XXX

Ladybug tapped her foot impatiently. It had already been about 10 minutes since the doorman said he was going to get his boss, but no one had come out yet.

They were likely stalling to find someplace to hide Chat and Alya. Maybe she should knock again.

As Ladybug went to knock on the door, it opened, revealing an older balding man. Unfortunately, she was unable to stop her hand from hitting him in the face.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” Ladybug brought her hands to her mouth, hoping that she didn’t accidentally break the man’s nose with her super-strength.

The man groaned, holding his nose for a second, but then removed his hand. A strained smile graced his features as he pushed past the likely growing pain in his nose.

Even though she had just hit him in the face, she just got an unpleasant vibe from him. Maybe it was just her feeling weird that he’s helping Chat and Alya sneak around, but this dude did not pass the vibe check.

“I-it’s alright, Ladybug. Unhhh…What brings you by at this hour?” The manager’s nasally voice, perhaps caused by her accidental punch, further added to his rancid vibes.

“I’m just here checking in on you guys. I was just worried that such a fancy restaurant like yours staying open this late was strange. I know most restaurants like yours pride themselves on closing quickly, so I was just a little concerned and wanted to check and make sure everyone is okay.” Ladybug smiled sweetly, moving a little closer to the door.

“I thank you for your concern Ladybug, but everyone here is just fine. We’re just doing some unexpected cleaning in the kitchen. One of our busboys accidentally spilled a few buckets of dirty plates. Truly a big mess that has kept us behind. We’re all uninjured, just cleaning up the mess,” the manager explained. Ladybug couldn’t help but notice as his nose grew darker and more purple-ish.

“I thought you all were doing inventory? At least, that’s what your doorman said.”

The manager froze as he realized his mistake. “Ah...yes we are also doing some inventory. That’s why there are a few of us here. But trust me everything is under control. I hope you have a good night, and thank you again for your concern.”

The manager, who she realized she never got the name of, tried to quickly close the door, but Ladybug moved her foot right between the door and the frame. It hurt just a bit, but she was grateful her suit protected her from most of the pain.

“With all due respect sir, I frankly don’t believe you. You can either let me in peacefully, or I will call in some back-up to help let me in.” Ladybug glared at the manager, and she could see him slowly realizing that he couldn’t win this battle.

Sighing, the manager opened the door back up for Ladybug. “Right this way.”

Ladybug grinned as she walked proudly through the doors.

“Oh, you might want to get some ice for that nose. I guess I still don’t know my strength.”

XXX

After maybe 10, the manager, who she learned was Mr. Colby Jacques, had only shown her the three main dining rooms with no signs of any workers that should have been there. The only worker she had seen was the one who ran to get Colby an ice pack.

“Uh, Colby, where are the other workers? I thought you said there were a few of you who stayed behind?” Ladybug asked, looking around. She was mostly looking for potential hiding spots for Chat and Alya, but so far she had not seen any possible spots.

“Oh, they’re all in the kit- I mean they must have gone home if they’re not around here. After all, no point in staying at work if you’re already done. So that means there’s no need for you to check on them!”

Colby immediately tried to turn Ladybug back in the direction of the front of the restaurant, but Ladybug had already picked up on his slip-up. They’re probably hiding in the kitchen.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t mind me checking out the kitchen, would you? Just to be sure no one else is here.”

Beads of sweat appeared on Colby’s face despite the fact there was an ice pack on his nose. “I-I guess that should be fine.”

“Purrfect!”

Ladybug allowed Colby to guide her to the kitchen doors where it was very obvious there were people in the kitchen.

“Oh, wow, I guess there are some people still here.” Mr. Jacques, sweating, had yet to let up, and she was pretty sure if he took off his blazer that there would be sweat stains on his shirt.

“Good thing we decided to check here then.”

Colby grimaced, or maybe he smiled she couldn’t really tell, as he pushed open the door to the kitchen.

The first thing Ladybug noticed upon entering the room was Chat and Alya, sharing what looked like and oreo cheesecake. They each had their own fork, and their arms were linked as they both ate their pieces of cheesecake. A group of kitchen staff stood around them watching them for their reactions.

“Aha! I caught you two!” Ladybug exclaimed, pointing at the two. Both of them turned and stared eyes-wide at Ladybug, clearly not expecting her outburst.

“L-ladybug! What are you doing here? At this clearly closed restaurant?” Chat asked nervously.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Chat. What are you doing here? After hours? Dressed fancy? With Alya Cesaire?” Ladybug crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow.

Alya and her kitty shared nervous looks as if they were trying to figure out what to tell her.

“Alya and I are madly in love!” Chat declared, pulling Alya closer.

“I can’t believe it!” even if the thought had passed through Ladybug’s mind multiple times during the past few days. “Alya, I am ashamed. I thought as the Ladyblogger you would be a good example of what citizens should be like. Dating both my kitty and another man. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow. Dishonor-”

“We’re not dating!” Alya interrupted, pulling herself away from a starry-eyed Chat. “We’re not dating! And I could certainly never cheat on Nino. He knows I’m here. With Chat.”

Ladybug frowned. “Oh, but then what are you doing here if you’re not on a date?”

Alya gave Chat a look. “Do you want to tell her? Or should I?”

“No, I will.” Chat sighed, pulling himself out of whatever daze he had been in. “We’re here because we were planning a surprise birthday party for you. Surprise!”

“But I never told you when my birthday is.” Ladybug furrowed her brow.

“True, but you did tell me that you’re a Leo, so I figured sometime during Leo season would work,” Chat explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay, if that’s the case then why were you guys just eating the cheesecake like that?” There were just so many questions and things that didn’t add up. She needed to know before her brain exploded.

“Because someone saw it in a movie and wanted to try,” Alya said while tilting her head towards Chat.

“I thought it’d be cute!” Chat defended.

“Okay okay. Why isn’t Nino helping out?”

“He is but we were only allowed two people to come to the restaurant.”

“That-that makes perfect sense. I guess I’m just curious then, but what was in the envelope you gave Chat the other night?”

Chat and Alya blinked, surprised.

Chat brought his hand up to scratch behind his head. “Wow, I didn’t know you knew about that, but uh it was just a list of party things to get. Ya know for the party.”

“Oh. I-I guess that’s all I was confused about. I guess all of this was just one big misunderstanding?” Ladybug softly laughed.

“Yeah, though we probably didn’t help matters,” Chat moved over to Ladybug and wrapped his arm around her.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “It’s kinda funny cause I really couldn’t see us together at all.”

“Oh totally, we’d be too chaotic to actually get any dating done. It wouldn’t work out.”

“Yeah…” All three agreed simultaneously.

#janai's writing #my fic #my writing #miraculous ladybug #crack #ladybug #chat noir #alya #commission #mlbforblm #the chalya escapades

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ficsnroses · 5 years

Text

Thank You - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Hellooo! It’s Thanksgiving here in Canada today. I thought I would write a little something for you guys, as a thank you for being here, and reading my work. I love the friends I’ve made on here and how welcomed I’ve felt over the past few weeks. If you’re not Canadian, I hope you still have a fabulous day, feel the sun shining down on you and have things to be grateful for :)

Word count : 1566

Warnings : None! Lots of fluff from the wonderful Keanu.

Requested : No

Summary : Keanu helps cheer up reader on Thanksgiving.

The sweet smell of ripe, fresh apples from your backyard waved through the open window of your home. It was Thanksgiving, and you had just set two pies to gold away in the oven, releasing aromas of sugar, spice, and everything nice around the house. Every year on Thanksgiving, your mother would bake her infamous pumpkin and apple pies back home to serve. You had helped her in the process, picking, coring and slicing the apples all by yourself as you watched her work her magical hands, creating the perfect pastries kissed with brown sugar, that sang a melody of autumn in your ears each time you took a bite. Year after year, all your closest relatives, and friends would join in your home for a massive evening dinner. Your family invited the entire neighbourhood over every year, it was a party everyone enjoyed. It was a rare time everyone was able to get together from their busy lives and intoxicate in the presence of loved ones. You looked forward to it every year, it meant the world to you. However, this particular year, you weren’t home with your family. You had been living away from home for a few years now, but always found your way back for Thanksgiving. This year, the odds were not in your favour. With the pressure of work, and your recent move to live with your boyfriend of three years, it all had gotten too much to be able to fly out home for the holidays.

You weren’t sad though, because you weren’t alone. You had Keanu to spend the day with, and he was nothing short compared to the love of a thousand others. Keanu and you had invited a few of your friends over for supper, and you were excited to experience Thanksgiving differently this year. You felt at home with Keanu, there was no doubt about it. He was your family, and you were his. But you couldn’t help but feel a little empty deep down inside thinking about how far away you were from back home this year. Keanu knew this, and boy did it hurt him to know you were feeling down.

Keanu had helped you prepare the dinner all day, like the gentlemen he was. He had done all the prep work you had asked him, washed all the dishes you repeatedly threw his way, and of course, taste tested everything, multiple times of course. Apart from sticking his finger in the whipped cream multiple times, he was actually quite helpful.

“Babe! We’re serving this!” you would gasp, swatting his hand away. He chuckled in response. In the entire process, he had only burned himself on the stove once, which you were proud of his goofy, clumsy self for. Although you couldn’t lie, you found it adorable when he would scream a little “ow!”, before jumping around, doing a little wiggle dance around the kitchen, trying to cool it off.

Sighing as the bulk of the cooking was done, you wiped the back of your hand across your forehead, leaning on the counter. It sure was draining to cook for people, you couldn’t help but mentally applaud your mother for doing it so cheerfully each year.

“You did amazing, sweetheart. Thank you so much for this.” Keanu smiled, resting his hand over yours on the counter, then pulling it up to his lips to place a soft, delicate kiss on your palm.

“Couldn’t have done it without my night in shining…” you glanced at the apron he was wearing. “Kiss the chef apron” you smirked. It was a questionable purchase, he had mainly got it as a joke for when he cooked for you, however, he couldn’t deny how much he grew to love it, due to the amount of extra kisses he got from you while he wore it.

“Why thank you, thank you” Keanu bowed, teasingly. He chuckled as he took the apron off, setting it aside on the granite counter.

He came closer to you, and pulled you close into his chest. He kissed the top of your head, and soothingly rubbed your back as he held you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying the first moment of relaxing and comfort thus far in the day.

“Baby…I know you’re feeling down about being away from home today and I’m sorry hun, I really am.” He placed a gentle kiss in your hair again, hugging you tighter now, trying to provide as much comfort as possible. “I promise, as soon as possible we’ll fly out to visit your family to make up for today, okay?” He said reassuringly, as you looked up at him, locking your eyes. He started at you compassionately.

You got lost in his eyes for a moment. Keanu never failed to show you how much he cared. He was always so caring and selfless, these were definitely the qualities that caused you to fall so deeply in love with him over the years. You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his darkly brunette locks.

“I love you, Y/N. I hate seeing you sad.” Keanu frowned, looking down, still holding you close.

You gently caressed his cheek, and moved his face up to look at you. He was such a big softie. Gosh, he sure knew how to pull at your heart strings.

“Don’t be silly,” you giggled, placing a kiss just to the corner of his mouth. “I have everything I need..” you laid your head on his chest as your arms wrapped around his neck. “Right here.” You finished your sentence, closing your eyes, breathing in his scent and feeling his heartbeat. Keanu grinned, resting his head on top of yours, both melting into each other’s embrace.

_______________________________________________________________

The evening was coming to an end, all your friends scattered around your living room and kitchen, laughing, drinking, having a great time. Everyone loved the food and made sure to address their compliments to you.

You had just sat down with a glass of wine under some twinkling fairy lights you had put up for the vibe. You looked around the house and saw all your friends having a great time, and it made you smile genuinely. Keanu had just finished a conversation with one of the guests. He glanced around the room until his eyes finally landed on you. He smiled to himself, he was proud of all your hard work in making the evening special and enjoyable for everyone. You always put others before yourself, he admired that about you. Keanu walked into the kitchen, cut up a piece of pie for you two to share, when he got the idea. He wasn’t going to let his girl feel down over anything. Not over his watch.

You felt the vacant spot beside you fill as Keanu sat down next to you, the plate of pie in his hand.

“Hey beautiful, thought we could share.” He spoke lovingly, as he kissed your cheek.

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and resting your head on his shoulder. After the hectic night of hosting, you just wanted to enjoy a few silent moments with your love.

“There was something I wanted to show you..” Keanu whispered against your hair.

Suddenly, he pulled his phone up from his side, putting it in your eyes view. You gasped as you saw the screen.

“Surprise!” your family and friends from back home screamed through the phone on Facetime. They all cheered in unison. “Happy Thanksgiving, pumpkin.” Your parents smiled at you through the screen. “We miss you soooo much back here!”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you heard them speak. Keanu smiled down at you, his heart was so full at the sight of you being so happy to see your family and friends.

You looked at him, happy tears threatening to fall.

“Baby...” was all you could manage to get out as you looked him in the eyes, so head over heels in love with him in this moment. He couldn’t take you home, but he made sure to bring home to you in the day of gratitude.

“We thought we could all have dessert together!” your mom smiled at you through the phone, holding up her plate of sliced pie.

Keanu held up the plate he had brought for you to share. “Sounds like an amazing idea.” He smiled at your mother over the phone. You watched the screen as your mom and dad flipped the camera, showing all your friends and family waving at you and Keanu, you heard a few “wish you guys were here!”, and “we miss you!’s.

You watched the phone as everyone dug into their slices of your mom’s pie. You smiled ear to ear at the sight. It truly felt like you were home, but something told you, that sense of home was radiating off the wonderful man sat beside you. The man who had your entire heart.

Keanu took the fork and cut a bite for you, holding it to your mouth.

“Happy Thanksgiving, love. I’m grateful to the moon and back to have you here with me.” He smiled at you, taking a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“Happy Thanksgiving, babe. Thank you, for being my home.” You replied, leaning in to kiss him.

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves oneshot #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves imagines #keanu reeves #john wick oneshot #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #imagine #thanksgiving

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eirenical · 4 years

Photo

@onemuseleft in response to my latest fic post...

AHAHAHA, OMG. XD You have no idea how hard this made me laugh. Because it really, really did. And I hope you don’t mind, but I actually wanted to take an opportunity to talk about this a little bit, because you’re not the first person I’ve talked to whose been drawn to the show because 1) the happy romcom vibe and The Gay from the first ten eps or so or 2) (possibly) it’s one of the few Z1L shows on Viki, so you’re going to run into it sooner or later if you’re looking for more of him to watch. ;D

OK, SO. In my defense, a decent part of the suffering is because I’ve taken it on as a challenge to write as many fic for this fandom (Granting You A Dreamlike Life) for Whumptober as possible. I’ve had a REALLY dark AU in my head for this canon pretty much since I got about halfway through watching it, because the set up is PERFECT for it, and Whumptober was just too good of an opportunity to indulge that desire to pass up.

(And this got... kind of long, so I’m going to put the rest behind a cut. XD)

I am catering like... 150% to my own tastes in this fic, because all the people I know who would be interested in a fic like this are not in this fandom, but OH WELL. When I’m done I’LL have it to read, and sometimes that’s enough. ^_^

HOWEVER. It should also be noted that SO FAR about 75% of the angst and suffering in this fic and its prequel ARE CANON. Like... There is a tiny scene in the first fic that I slotted in, but really it could have been reappropriated from an earlier scene in a different episode, because it’s very similar. There’s more non-canon stuff in the second fic, but the entire framing of the situation and where we end up IS ALSO CANON.

So, my point is that this ENTIRE SHOW IS SUFFERING. XD And yeah, I’m indulging that to the max, but if you are looking for a happy romcom type show... I would stop somewhere around episode 14 or 15 or so and just pretend the rest of the show doesn’t exist. ;D

But IF THAT HASN’T SCARED YOU OFF YET... here are a few things you should know before you jump on in...

1. The show is a soap opera. Get that into your head right now. And just like a soap opera, if it is possible for the plot to take a turn for the worst... IT WILL. If it is possible for the most unlikely and ridiculous thing to happen, especially in the name of making things worse? IT WILL HAPPEN. The ONLY other shows I know that do that are soap operas. So. Take that for what you will. ;D

2. There are three main “arcs” to the show:

Episodes 1-14/15ish: Mostly happy go lucky romcom. Adorable. Hilarious. SO MUCH GAY, OMG SO MUCH GAY, WHY DID THIS SHOW NOT END IN A THREESOME. *sobs softly* THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER AND THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SO HAPPY, I REALLY NEED TO WORK ON THAT FIC, TOO.

Episodes 15/16-25/26ish: Things get BAD. Love triangles, separations, betrayals, soft squishy boys turned into the ACAB cliche, just... everything starts to fall apart and there is SO MUCH SAD.

Episodes 26-40: AHAHAHAHA. YOU THOUGHT THINGS WERE BAD BEFORE? BOY WERE YOU WRONG. THAT WAS A THIRD GRADE PICNIC IN COMPARISON. ON A SUNNY DAY. WITH YOUR FAVORITE DESSERT. THINGS ARE NOW VERY VERY VERY BAD. THEY ARE AWFUL. EVERYTHING THAT CAN BE DONE TO HURT YOUR FAVE WILL BE DONE TO HURT YOUR FAVE, ESPECIALLY IF YOUR FAVE IS LUO FUSHENG. ALSO THIS SHOW HAS A BODY COUNT. A VERY HIGH BODY COUNT. ODDS ARE YOUR FAVE WILL DIE BY THE END BECAUSE NEARLY EVERYONE DOES.

So... try to be prepared for that. XD

3. Zhu Yilong is FUCKING AMAZING in this show and it is 1000% worth it to watch it JUST FOR HIM ALONE. I mean... LOOK AT THIS NONSENSE. WHAT EVEN IS THAT??? I CAN’T. HALP. *screams into a pillow* XD (Thanks again for making that gifset, @elvencantation; it is still very much a happy place for me. ;D)

4. Kind of a corollary to #1, but... don’t expect the plot to make sense. It... it won’t. It is a soap opera. The plot is not the point. The point is the relationships between the characters, and there is pretty much just barely enough plot to give those relationships a set on which to sit. So, yeah. Don’t... don’t expect the plot to make sense. You will break your brain trying to make sense of it. By the same token, this show is ostensibly set in the 1920s (possibly 1930s?) in Dongjiang; a port city in China. I... uh... yeah... just... just picture it as an alternate world that is loosely based on the real place and historical accuracy is just... not a thing. At all. XD

5. There’s a framing plot in episode 1 (and 2?) and 40 that bookends the series and everything in between is a girl telling the story of her grandmother’s great love affair/tragedy as a child. The framing characters are played by the two main characters’ actors, but they have... nothing to do with them. This SHOULD have been a reincarnation plot, because it would have made SO MUCH MORE SENSE, but it wasn’t. Not even in the original book. So... IDK. Just run with it and don’t worry too much if those parts don’t make sense. XD

And if there is ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT TO KNOW or if you decide to start watching and you want to yell about it, I AM ALWAYS WILLING TO YELL ABOUT THIS SHOW. I am also happy to give away spoilers if you need/want to know things like “is my fave one of the few who doesn’t die?” Because, I get needing to know that. XD

Anyway... HAVE FUN, I GUESS?

Because I completely unexpectedly love this ridiculous little show with all my fucking heart (because WTF, I HATE soap operas, especially ones built on romantic misunderstandings and miscommunications where everyone dies in the end and... THAT IS THE WHOLE PLOT OF THE SHOW WTF BRAIN????) and I need more people to talk to about it. XD

#granting you a dreamlike life #onemuseleft #conversations through replies #people saying nice things #...yes it counts #XDDDD #I'M SORRY IF THIS WAS WAY MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW #BUT YOU EXPRESSED A VAGUE INTEREST #AND I GOT EXCITED #OOPS #XD #gyadl meta #eirenical.meta

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flowerpowell · 5 years

Text

Until You Hate Me (Liam x MC)

PART TWO - INTRODUCTION

A/N: This is a sort of filler chapter I think, at first it was supposed to be longer (with actual action in it lol) but it didnt work and so it is what it is. I hope it’s still enjoyable. Characters belong to Pixelberry of course.

Rating: G

Word count: 1591

Tagging: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @brightpinkpeppercorn @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cora-nova @client-327 @desiree-0816 @jared2612 @princess-geek @emichelle @ao719 @badchoicesposts @sunandlemons @cordoniantrash @kinggliam @needalittlerain @flyawayboo @nazariortega @jlpplays1 @kimmiedoo5 @annekebbphotography @ladyangel70 @eadanga @kingliam2019 @nz1091 @emceesynonymroll @texaskitten30 @mskaneko @custaroonie @drakesensworld @janezillow @ritachacha @lodberg @msjr0119 ♥

(let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!)

Riley glanced at the watch again and sighed. Regina had asked her to meet her before the jet was supposed to take off but she was either late or forgot about their meeting at all. After five more minutes of sighing and checking the hour, the Queen finally showed up.

“You told me not to be late and yet you’re coming late?” Riley asked not caring if what she said was perhaps a bit too rude when talking to a monarch.

Regina narrowed her eyes before answering calmly. “A Queen is never late.”

“Are you quoting Princess Diaries now?”

“I have no idea what is that.”

“Ugh, nevermind. Let’s talk business. Two hundred thousand dollars for being an awful suitor, or whatever is that called. Anything else I need to know?”

“From what I see, you’re off to a great start,” Regina noticed and Riley rolled her eyes. “Liam will try to teach you everything that the girls from noble families learn throughout their lives. It’s impossible for him to succeed anyway but I just want to make sure you’ll make it even less possible. Is that clear?”

“As clear as the sky,” Riley nodded and Regina looked up. It was cloudy. She sighed.

“You can do whatever you please to make him fail the ‘challenge’ but never embarrass the crown.”

“And what if make him hate me in less than six weeks? Do I still get two hundred?” Riley inquired. It didn’t seem so difficult to do and she was sure she’d succeed in less than six weeks.

“Of course.Whether you do it in one day, a week or six, it’s up to you. Just do it before the coronation. But don’t flatter yourself too much. Liam is very stubborn and never gives up, unfortunately. Unlike his brother,” she sighed.

“Oh, it’s cool. I’ve pissed off more people in my life than I befriended. I’m gonna nail it.”

Regina raised her eyebrowns and looked at Riley sceptically. “Well, then. I guess we have a deal,” she extended her hand and Riley shook it.

“Your Majesty!” A man in a funny uniform bowed slightly before approaching them. “We’re taking off in a minute.”

“Of course. We’ll be right back,” Regina said politely and turned to Riley once the man disappeared. “Oh and Riley. Don’t even think about falling in love with Liam or making him fall for you. I’ll destroy you if anything like this happens.”

Riley swallowed hard before composing herself. “Don’t worry about it, Regi—, Your Majesty. I’m mentally and physically unable to fall in love.” Believe me, I tried.

“Good. Let’s get you to work then.”

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

Riley looked around the Royal jet, taking everything in. She felt Regina’s eyes on her as she was slowly approaching Liam. She tried to look nonchalant, as if being in a Royal jet was something she did on daily basis but she was failing miserably.

Mental note for myself: work on my facial expressions.

“Liam,” Regina said loudly when they reached Liam’s seat. He turned around at the sound of her voice and quickly got up when he saw Riley beside his stepmother. “This is Riley, the waitress from the bar you brought me to yesterday. She kindly agreed to go to Cordonia with us to help you with you challenge. Riley, this Liam, my stepson and the future King of Cordonia.”

Liam smiled warmly at Riley before taking her hand and kissing it lightly. She chuckled in response and Regina rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be somewhere there,” she motioned seats at the end of the jet and walked away.

“I am so happy you agreed to do this, I’m sure it must have been an odd thing to be asked for,” Liam started, leading her to her seat.

“Umm, yeah, I mean,” she stuttered before clearing her throat, “spending a few weeks in a Royal Palace will be like all-inclusive vacay that I didn’t have to pay for. Looots of fun!” She winked at him and Liam’s eyes widened a little. Gosh, I hate myself already.

“Yes, that’s... a nice comparison! Although we will have some work to do,” he laughed nervously while Riley put her feet on his seat.

“Yeah, sure.” She shrugged. “Do you have free champagne or something here?”

“We do, just a moment,” Liam got up and went to grab a bottle and two glasses. On his way back, he stopped by Regina’s seat.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” She asked sweetly.

“Are you sure it’s the same person we met yesterday?” He asked quietly, glancing at Riley who was now testing the seats by jumping on them.

“Of course. Why, something happened?”

“No, nothing. Hmm...” He walked away not seeing Regina’s triumphant smirk.

“Is something wrong with the seats, lady Riley?”

“Hmm, what? No, nothing, I was just checking their quality. It’s not bad though my couch from Walmart is much more comfortable.” She turned to him and took the bottle from his hands. Without bothering to pour the alcohol into the glass, she took a few sips straight from the bottle. I hope I’m not exaggerating.

“I’ll make sure to pass this suggestion to the people responsible for the seats here,” he smiled politely and sat down in front of Riley.

She returned the smile and sat down as well, typing a short message to Regina.

“Help, tell me more about Liam, what he likes and what he hates. ASAP.”

Luckily, the answer came shortly.

“No one truly knows what he likes, he’s too reserved. I would say he loves Cordonia, of course, our apples, baklava. He’s a romantic so family, a loving wife and children are his biggest dream. He hates fake people and people who can harm his friends and family.”

Riley sighed. That did not help her at all. And the fact that they shared favorite dessert and fruit was making it even harder. I swear if I have to pretend I hate baklava I’d rather be broke and kicked out of my apartment.

“Is everything alright?” Liam asked noticing her disconcertment.

“Yes! Absolutely. I just thought maybe you could tell me a little bit about yourself and all. I have to spend a few weeks with you after all!”

“Of course. Is there anything in particular you’d like to learn about me?”

“The basics, I guess. How do you feel about becoming a King, what am I even doing here, what’s your biggest dream and so on. The usual.”

Liam chuckled. “I don’t believe these things are the ‘usual’. But to answer your questions, I’m feeling nervous about becoming a King. I never really thought about it until my brother abdicated. And then my father died and everything became very real.”

“I’m sorry,” she wanted to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but stopped herself instantly.

“I don’t know how much Regina told you...” he looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Not much,” she lied, biting her lip.

“When I realized I was going to be a King, I knew I had to sacrifice many things. But there was one I didn’t want to sacrifice.”

“Love?”

“Exactly. It may sound foolish but I’ve always wanted to marry for love. And since the coronation is so soon... I just wanted to give it a try. Regina claims that you can’t simply teach anyone how to be a Queen because it’s a skill only noble ladies are born with but I don’t agree. My mother was a commoner too and I’m sure she was a wonderful Queen. This is why you’re here in a way,” he smiled at her sheepishly. “Regina... She gave me a chance to teach a lady outside the court, that is you, all about the manners and the Royal Protocol so I could prove her wrong. If I succeed I can marry whoever I want and whenever I want because I’ll prove that it is possible to learn these skills.”

“And if not?”

Liam took a deep breath before sighing. “Then I’ll have to marry Madeleine, my stepmother’s favorite suitor.”

“So marrying for love is your dream, right?”

“Yes. A loving wife and a few kids,” he smiled to himself involuntairly at the thought and Riley couldn’t help but smile too.

“And you? Do you want to get married, have kids?” he asked curiously after a moment.

“Me? Oh no! I don’t like kids, eww!” I hope Mrs Dulay can’t hear me now. “I want to have cats though.” He doesn’t have to know I’m allergic to them

“Cats.” Liam repeated.

“Cats. Like, ten of them or more.”

“Ten cats. Okay. But what if you were a Queen? You’d need an heir or someone to appoint.”

“I’d appoint one of my cats. Cats are the best. Cats should rule, I’m sure they’re destined to do so,” she explained and Liam’s eyes went wide.

“So no kids for you, only cats and a cat would be the Royal Heir.”

“Yes, exactly.”

He nodded and quickly turned his attention back at his phone. In a few hours they would land in Cordonia. He knew he couldn’t back out now, especially that it was his only chance but something was telling him that it was a mistake. And that it would be the longest six weeks in his life.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #king liam #king liam x mc #liam x mc #choices #choices trr #trr #trr liam #the royal romance liam #liam x riley #king liam x riley #playchoices #blanca still doesnt know how to tag 2019

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mignonricciardo · 4 years

Text

mistletoe: jeong yunho

bonjour!! so i kind of hate this but in honor of christmas and ateez's comeback announcement i felt the need to put something out :)) pls love my sweet boy jeong yunho♡ anyways, merry christmas and happy holidays!! summary: yunho's friends are aware of his little crush and take advantage of christmas traditions to help him out

”We’re going to be late,” Yunho whines as he collapses on to my bed. I nudge his gangly legs as I pass from letting him in, walking towards the vanity in the corner of my bedroom, “It’ll be fine, Yunho!”

”Wooyoung was bringing sushi for the potluck,” Yunho continues. “Jongho will eat it all if we don’t get there soon.”

”I need to finish getting ready, Yunho,” I say, closing hoop earrings in my ears. “If you want to leave go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”

”You look pretty already!” he protests, tossing a pillow above his head and catching it between his hands. “Besides, I can’t let you walk there alone. It’s dark out.”

”I’m almost done I promise,” I turn to a mirror, twisting a tube of lipstick between my fingers. The red tint glides over my lips, and I smack my lips together in the mirror to spread the product. Yunho watches secretly, cheeks glowing as red as my lips. He scratches his head before clearing his throat quietly. His mind searches for something to talk about to distract him from the sight he had just seen, but the only thing his brain can come up with is asking how every shade of lip gloss looks good on me. I turn to him as I brush fingers through my hair, “Who’d you get for Secret Santa?”

”I already told you—it’s a secret! I wanted to do it right this year after messing up last time,” Yunho responds, sitting up in the bed as I pull my jacket over my shoulders.

I laugh as I recall last year’s mistake, “I still can’t believe you signed your name on the card for Mingi. Hongjoong even went through the trouble of getting each of us the same gift bags so no one could guess!”

”Haha, silly me,” he deadpans. As he stands from the bed, he notices my hair, which had caused us to be late, tucked beneath the hood of my puffer jacket. He approaches behind me, fingertips wrapping around the tendrils of hair. He pulls my hair out from beneath my hood without a word, and a gentle smile spreads across my face. As I turn around to thank him, I notice his cheeks glowing bright red in the dim room.

”I di-didn’t want us to be even later because it got messed up,” Yunho stumbles over his words, eyes avoiding mine. I place a hand on his arm gently, relishing in the warmth radiating through his sweater, “Thank you, Yunho. Even if it was just so you can get some sushi.”

He follows me through my apartment, protesting that it was for selfish reasons. We step outside into the falling snow, glove-clad fingers holding our matching gift bags. The snow falls in large flakes, obscuring the sidewalk as they reach the earth. I smile at the sight, looking up towards the night sky to see flurries falling towards my face. One hand reaches up to catch a snowflake in my palm. Yunho follows my actions, snickering as I jump to catch a particularly large snowflake. I miss by inches, but Yunho notices and reaches up to cradle it in his palm. Once it lands safely in his hand, he holds it in front of my face. My eyes are wide with awe as I stare at the little flake. Yunho watches my face as I focus on his palm, noting my raised eyebrows and grinning cheeks.

”Beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask, eyes never leaving his hand in front of my face.

He smiles fondly, eyes trained on my face, “Absolutely.”

I look up to Yunho and catch him looking at me. He turns red, quickly breaking our gaze and clearing his throat, “Let’s go. It’s cold out, and they’ll be wondering where we are.”

My right hand clutches my chest, begging my heart to quiet its thumping. I follow him without another word, gift bag swinging at my side as I skip to catch up with his long strides. We continue our brief trek in comfortable silence, both of us unaware the other is wrapped up in similar thoughts. My head begs my heart to stop its fluttering while Yunho pleas for his cheeks to return to normal. Once we arrive, Yunho knocks on the door and shakes snowflakes from his hair. We are greeted warmly by our friends before entering Wooyoung and San’s apartment. After our boots and outer layers are shed, the excited hosts usher us to their living room where the rest of our friend group is sitting. Some people are sprawled across the couch and others on the floor, drinks in hand and laughter erupting. Greetings and warm welcomes envelope the room, much of the conversation focused on the gifts in the middle of the room.

After dinner and several glasses of wine, I cling to Yunho’s arm, leaning on him anytime I laugh at another of the our friends’ jokes. I find myself relishing in the warmth he radiates, comfort found in the weave of his baggy sweater. A blush creeps on to my face when my hand brushes his, and my tipsy self tries to quickly cover it when he turns to face me.

”Is it hot in here?” I ask him, fanning my face with my hands. He laughs, “I think that means you’ve had enough wine. You always get hot when you’re drunk.”

”Wait!” I grab his hand wrapping around my wine glass. A fake pout makes its way on to my face, “One more glass?”

”Fine,” he laughs, giving into my pout. My hands cup his cheeks, squishing them together as I cheer, “You’re the best, Yunho!”

”I don’t know how you put up with her when she’s like this,” Hongjoong says, taking another bite of dessert. “She gets so touchy when she’s drunk.”

”It’s really not bad,” Yunho laughs as I lean against him. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

”Ha, Hongjoong! Did you hear that?” I begin, yelling across the table. “Yunho called me cute!”

”Too bad you guys won’t admit it when you’re both sober,” Yeosang mutters, raising his eyebrows as he takes another sip from his wine glass.

Yunho turns bright red, quickly changing the subject as the friends around us snicker, “Secret Santa time?”

Everyone files into the living room, squeezing together on the couch and finding spots on the floor. Wooyoung retrieves his gift from the pile first, unwrapping a BTS album with a wide smile on his face. He guesses correctly that Mingi was his Secret Santa, and the gift exchange continues. When San tells me to go next, I stand from my spot next to Yunho. I sway with a giggle, and Yunho places hands on my waist to steady me. I thank him before returning to my spot with a gift bag in hand. I read the cheesy text in the card with a giggle and tear through tissue paper to retrieve the gift inside the bag. My fingers wrap around the cover of a hardback book. The Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook is blazoned across the purple cover. I smile broadly as I flip through the pages, skimming recipes for Butterbeer and Pumpkin Pasties. Wooyoung speaks up, pulling me from my delighted stupor, “Who’s your guess?”

I know immediately who gifted me the cookbook. I point a finger at Yunho with a smirk on my face, “You got me this, didn’t you?”

”Is it obvious?” he teases, a smile across his cheeks as he laughs. I throw arms around his shoulders to give him a hug, and he responds by wrapping arms around my waist. Mingi taunts us from the other end of the couch, “Just date already!”

We ignore his comment as Yunho stands to retrieve the gift addressed to him. Butterflies rise in my stomach as I hold back laughter—of course we would have each other as a Secret Santa. He takes his spot next to me, thighs brushing through denim jeans. I watch with excitement as he digs through the bag, pulling out the tiny box held gingerly in his large palm. He opens the box gently, smiling broadly at just a glimpse of the gift. An elder wand tie clip is held up for everyone to see. Yunho turns to me without hesitation, “This had to be you.”

”We look like nerds, don’t we?” I laugh in response, still feeling a buzz through my veins from the wine.

”Can you please get married?” Seonghwa calls.

”What’s with you guys lately?” I begin, pointing out their odd behavior. “You’ve rarely said stuff about Yunho and I. Why now?”

Behind me, Yunho is bright red, holding hands together in a silent plea as he mouths please to the friends around us. Some of the boys open their mouths to answer, but they hesitate. Jongho stumbles over his words as he begins, “Well, you guys are so similar. You’re always together. You’re both cute so you’d be extra cute together.”

San elbows him in the ribs, muttering nice one, idiot under his breath. Jongho shrugs his shoulders. I look around the room suspiciously but decide to drop it. The guys act weird all the time. The Secret Santa exchange continues. Everyone opens gifts as laughter and cheering surround the room. Warmth erupts in my chest as I take in the sights around me. Close friends sharing drinks, laughter and love. Sheer happiness surrounds me. Yunho notices my sudden reflection, and he squeezes my hand gently. His large hand engulfs mine in his warm grip. I turn to look at his face, smiling gently as my body buzzes with his contact. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I become lost in his gaze. The chatter around us melts. The only thing I can focus on is Yunho invading my senses. His cologne fills my nose with hints of sandalwood and vetiver. His hand is warm in mine and sweater soft when it brushes my arm. There is giggling around us, but we fail to notice. Something touching the top of my head gets my attention, and I tear my gaze away from Yunho. Wooyoung laughs maniacally above us with mistletoe dangling from his fingers. I reach an arm out to punch him, “You’re so immature!”

”C’mon,” he teases, “you can’t break a tradition.”

San jumps in, “A little Christmas kiss. A harmless, yuletide present.”

”You sound like an idiot,” Yunho responds.

”You were under the mistletoe,” Hongjoong trails off, raising his eyebrows.

My eyes meet Yunho’s, and he speaks quietly, “You don’t need to listen to them. They’re being their usual, ornery selves.”

”There’s only one way to shut them up,” I respond, watching a blush creep on to his cheeks. “Are you okay with it?”

”Are you asking if it’s ok if we kiss?” his eyes are blown wide in shock at my words. I nod, and he tears his gaze away. Yeosang mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, “If he kisses you once, he won’t be able to stop.”

”Hey!” Yunho yells. Yeosang shrugs his shoulders before turning to me, “He likes you. He finally admitted it to us weeks ago.”

”Yeosang, I will ruin your Christmas!” Yunho begins, but I place a hand on his chest to stop him.

”You like me?” my voice is quiet.

Yunho is red as he nods slowly, “I thought it was obvious.”

”Kiss me, you idiot,” I giggle. “It’s Christmas, and we were under the mistletoe.”

”Seriously?” he seemed shocked.

I nod firmly, surprised when his hands cup my cheeks. Our lips meet suddenly as cheers erupt around us. His lips are soft against mine, tasting faintly of red wine. When we separate, Wooyoung claps Yunho on the back, “You’re welcome for the mistletoe!”

”I would’ve done it eventually,” he mutters.

I intertwine our fingers, and he turns to me with a gentle smile. I laugh, ruffling the hair covering his forehead, “I have a feeling I would have, babe.”

”Babe?” he nearly chokes on his words, eyes bugging out of his head.

I nod, “I think it fits.”

San takes in our clasped hands and wide eyes, cheering with a broad smile, “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

”It certainly is,” Yunho mumbles, leaning in for another kiss beneath the mistletoe dangling from Wooyoung’s hand.  

#ateez scenarios #yunho scenarios

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heartofsnark · 5 years

Text

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Six): A messy brain, I’m not okay

Notes: As always, thanks for the continuous support of this story. There has even been people doing fan art of Tsuneko which blows my mind. This was another chapter I struggled with, I’m still unsure when writing Rhion. But, I love him enough to try.

Word Count: 5,499

Warnings: Nightmare, Suicide (within nightmare) and another panic attack for good measure. I feel like Tsuneko has a lot of panic attacks but given her situation, I feel it’s justified.

Missed the last chapter? Link Here!

Tsuneko’s dorm kitchenette is filled with savory and sweet scents; she puts the finishing touch on the final dish with a low hum. She packs it all away in containers, it will be a pain carrying all of the dishes, but she’ll have to manage. It’s odd how excited she is about this, after dealing with Ichinomiya and Oh, visiting Wonderland feels like a vacation. For all his eccentricities, the Hatter has by far been the kindest of the men involved with the auctions. The only one who can even compare is Baba, but his kindness comes with incessant and nauseating attempts to flirt.

There are a few blotches of stuff on her apron and she hopes it doesn’t stain, ironic given what it is, but she can’t help it. She tosses it in the hamper and throws on a jacket; she already changed into more casual clothes the second she was back from the boutique. She feels so much better in her own clothes, her hair done a way she likes, and she even put in her tongue ring. It was something reckless she did a few years ago in college, she rarely gets to wear it anymore with her job, but it feels nice to have it back in place.

She gathers the food, balancing it all in her arms as she heads out. Tsuneko has to cut through the lobby to head towards Wonderland. She feels a little out of place, she’s basically only here if she’s working, so wearing her casual clothes in the lobby is a new experience.

“Tsuneko!” A familiar and accented voice rings out, every muscle in her body tenses as Mr. Bucci comes over.

“Hello, Mr. Bucci, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” She’s careful as she speaks, aware of the possibility of showing her tongue ring. As much as she likes fucking over Ichinomiya looking like some sort of delinquent in front of his potential work partner feels like a step too far.

“I thought you were spending the day with Carolina and them?”

“I was with them earlier, but I had to leave, I’m on my way to drop off some food actually.”

“You cook?”

“A little, actually,” she manages to open the top container, “do you want a piece of cherry almond bread?’

The older man guffaws at her struggling to get a piece out, she’s hoping the sweet can soothe any bad impression she’s made.

“Thank you very much,” he takes a bite, “there’s nothing better than home cooking, I swear.”

“I’m so glad you like it, I’ll have you cook something just for you while you’re here.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll be looking forward to it then.”

Tsuneko waves him off and sighs once he’s out of hearing distance, he’s definitely easier to contend with than his daughter, but she’d still hate to upset him. Not only is he important for Ichinomiya’s work, but she really doesn’t want to make enemies with the Italian mafia. Doesn’t sound like a good time to her. She takes the stairs down to the Hatter’s tea room and knocks on the door.

“It’s Tsune- Alice.”

“Come in! Come in!”

Tsuneko steps into the room and no less surreal than it was the first time, she’s not sure she could ever get used to this. This time the table is already set, the decorations from last time are still out, and the costumed men are already at the table.

“We’ve all been waiting; I’ve been so excited I could barely set the table.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, now,” she tells him as she sets everything out, “do you mind pouring the tea?”

The scent of Assam tea mingles with the smells of the food she’s made; Yorkshire pudding with roast, gravy and vegetables. Along with the lemon chiffon pie he requested as a dessert, she made cherry almond bread. He seems to have a taste for sweet fruity things; the lemon chiffon pie and raspberry sauce both coming to mind. The Hatter’s eyes are trained on her as she plates the main course; she tried to make a lot since the March Hare and Dormouse are here as well.

“You seem to be in high spirits today, Alice.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

“I had a lot of fun cooking for you, plus I’d rather be here than with any of the penthouse guys any day.” she answers with a shrug.

“Ahh, you’ll make my heart fly out of my chest, saying things like that.”

“Pfft, sure, I just hope you like everything I made.”

“It smells so delicious; I might drift off to sleep.” The Hatter closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale.

“I swear to god, if you fall asleep before you even try any of this, I’ll be shoving it down your throat.”

“Ah! How scary!” He jolts up in his seat with wide eyes and she can’t help but snicker.

“Here you go,” she places a plate in front of the Hatter and the two pseudo-furries, other than initial greetings the two have never spoken. If they’re the people the Mad Hatter is always with, he must get lonely, doesn’t he? She shakes off the thought and takes her seat.

“Yes, this is it! Look how the middle is sunken in, isn’t it lovely! ~”

“I just hope it tastes good.” She tried them before hand, but just because they taste good to her doesn’t mean they’ll meet his standard, since he actually knows how they’re supposed to taste.

“Let’s have a taste, Alice,” her leg bounces with nervous energy as the Hatter takes a bite, “mmm, it’s delicious, both the texture and flavor is perfection! ~”

“Yes,” she pumps her fist, “I’m so happy you like them!”

Her nerves relax and she takes a big bite out of her own Yorkshire pudding, the soft texture of the bread mixed with the flavor of the gravy brightens her smile even more.

“How is it?”

“It’s really soft and delicious.”

“Yes, I’m so glad you like them, Alice! ~”

“I’m happy they turned out well, I was really worried when you first asked me to make them. I had no idea what they were.”

“Really? What did you think it was?” He tilts his head to the side, his oversized hat nearly falling off from the movement.

“Uhhhh,” heat floods her cheeks and she stares at her plate, “like dessert pudding, possibly…shaped like a dog…like the terriers.”

“Pfffft, hahahaha!”

A peal of laughter escapes his painted lips and she buries her head in her hands, her skin feels like it’s on fire.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!”

“You say the most interesting things, Alice! ~,” he takes a bite of the roast beef, “mmm, the roast beef is perfectly cooked and the gravy is robust and flavorful!”

“You’re too nice.”

“It’s a lovely dinner, the roast beef is sliced so perfectly thin. If it’s cut too thick, it wouldn’t make for a good sandwich later. Ah, isn’t it a wonder how such a delicious meal can be made from such simple ingredients?”

“It really is. I thought it would be a lot more complicated.”

“Flour, eggs, and milk, that’s all the batter is, it’s like it’s transformed by magic!”

Tsuneko’s face is red through the entire meal, as laves compliment after compliment on her cooking. Every bite of food is accompanied by a noise of pleasure and a poetic gushing of how much he loves it. He cleans his plate of the main dish before digging into the cherry almond bread.

“Mmmm, the tart cherries and sweet bread are a lovely a combination! ~”

It’s gone in moments and she’s licking crumbs off her fingers, as the Hatter begins to dig into the lemon chiffon pie. She can’t get over how childlike all his actions seem to be, excitedly digging into every dish with an impossibly wide smile.

“The ephemeral meringue reminds me of a night blooming cactus as it melts instantly in my mouth. The sweet and sour lemon cream gives life to my very heart! ~”

“I’m pretty sure if your heart was pumping lemon cream, you’d die.”

“And I’m pretty sure you can’t make pudding into the shape of a dog,” he teases with a soft smile.

“Shut up.”

She pouts and takes a sip of tea, once the food is gone the March Hare and Dormouse take their leave, not long after a familiar fluff ball comes walking in.

“Oh, Cheshire, how are you today?”

The Hatter greets the oversized cat as she tries to jump into a seat, but she has trouble lifting herself. Tsuneko puts her hand under Cheshire’s back feet and gives her a lift up.

“Back from your nightly walk, are you?” Cheshire mews back at the Hatter’s question, “Oh? That’s wonderful. That’s the best part of taking a walk, isn’t it?”

“What did Cheshire say?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow, humoring the Hatter’s attempt to be Dr. Doolittle.

“She was watching a beautiful butterfly fall asleep and felt the night breeze caress her cheeks.”

“Sounds like a lovely time, are you hungry?”

Tsuneko gets a little piece of roast beef, letting Cheshire eat it from her hand. Once she’s cleaned her hand, she starts scratching her ear, the cat leaning into the touch and purring.

“I think Cheshire has gained some weight.”

“It’s fine, she wears it well, want me to brush her fur out?”

The Hatter smiles brightly and brings her a brush. She begins stroking it through the cat’s fur; the silky fluff is relaxing to pet through. Cheshire curls up in her lap, purring with every brush and pet against her fur.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, about the auctions,” Tsuneko brings up, scratching under Cheshire’s chin.

“Hmm, what could that be?”

Tsuneko’s mouth dries out, thoughts of that stage, that night. This isn’t stage fright, she knows that. She’s never been afraid of speaking to crowds, but any advice or help from someone who steps onto that stage regularly is welcomed. She clicks her tongue ring against the roof of her mouth, fidgeting with Cheshire’s fur.

“Do you…ever get…nervous getting on stage?”

His head tilts curiously to the side, his hat once again threatening to topple over. He chews on his painted bottom lip and his face wrinkles in concentration.

“Are you nervous about it?”

“Uh….maybe, just a bit.”

“Why would the stage make you nervous?”

“Y’know, being stared at...and gunk…” She supposes severe trauma from being sold like a literal object can be safely tucked into the ‘gunk’ category.

"You worry about the silliest things," he waves his hand like it'll make her fear disappear, "you'll do wonderfully!"

Despite the chipper tone, not a single word that came out of his mouth was helpful. She sighs, she’s not sure what she expected, the Hatter is eccentric at best and completely detached from reality at worse, why would he be able to help her?

“’Preciate it,” she teeters back in her chair with her feet on the table and Cheshire still in her lap, “so, you grew up in England?”

His smile drops and every muscle in his body tenses, like she’s thrown cold water on him. She plays with the ring in her tongue, nervously pushing it up and down. She’s never seen him like this, like her one little question has sent his world crashing down.

“The place where I grew up…yes.”

“You said the Yorkshire pudding was from your home country, so I was curious…”

“The place where I grew up, it’s a place where there are beautiful roses…”

His eyes soften when he mentions the roses and Tsuneko finds her own wandering to the walls of Wonderland. Roses are painted over them, what she once assumed was just another reference to his favorite fairy tale has taken on a new meaning. Clearly, he has conflicted feelings about where he came from, but the roses seem to be a pleasant memory for him. There’s a pang in her heart, as strange as he is, he’s a kind person and seeing him hurt for even a second hurts her.

“That must be nice, roses are really beautiful.”

“They are,” he’s beaming again, “being surrounded by beautiful things is the best. That’s why Wonderland is so incredible. The clear sky, the lush garden, a wonderful table at which to have parties, roses, and-oh, I know there’s something I haven’t shown you yet, Alice!”

He’s gesturing flamboyantly as he rushes towards the wall, Cheshire hops out of her lap to start sniffing around the room. Tsuneko idly picks at the fur left on her shorts and tights while she waits for the Hatter’s new surprise. She hears the click of a switch and her breath catches in her throat.

The ceiling has shifted, no longer showing an evening sky, it’s now pitch black with gleaming stars. It looks so real, she knows it’s not, but she can see the starlight shining against the velvet black. It almost feels like she’s back home, sitting on her roof and stargazing again.

“Whoa, they look so real.”

“They are real stars in Wonderland.”

“It reminds me of when I was little,” Tsuneko can’t help but say, maybe because he talked a bit about his past, she feels like she should share her own.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was a small place so you could see the stars really well. I use to always climb up to the roof of our house to see them. My dad kept telling me I was gonna fall and break my neck, he would worry over the stupidest shit.”

“Did you ever fall?”

“Yeah, but I broke my arm, so,” she shrugs her shoulders, “won that one.”

The Hatter laughs and she finds herself joining it, cracking up at her own dumb ass.

“You have a way at looking at the bright side, I suppose,” The Hatter manages to say as his giggles die down.

“Hmmm, more like just spiteful enough to say I won no matter what, but spin it however you want,” she pauses for a moment, “you want to like properly stargaze?”

“Properly stargaze?”

She smiles at the way his head tilts again; she wonders what he looks like beneath the makeup. His behaviors alone are too cute; does he have a cute face to match? Wait, what is she thinking? He’s an auctioneer who helped sell her, no matter how kind or cute he may or may not be, she can’t forget that.

“Yeah,” she shakes off the odd thought, “when there are stargazing event people will get blankets and lay out on the ground to watch them.”

“Oh,” his eyes are bright and wide, “that sounds like fun, let's do that!”

“Okay, help me move the table so we can lie down.”

She hooks her fingers under one side of the table and the Hatter’s eyebrows furrow, but follows suit in getting his hand on the other side. He’s biting his lip, is he worried about something?

“Count of three lift it up with me okay; one, two, three!”

She lifts and realizes why he was worried; she’s definitely lifting the brunt of the table’s weight. His arms are trembling from what he’s holding up, he’s not very strong. She finds herself smiling as she guide him to helping her move the table further off to the side, that must be why he needs the furry guys to move stuff. They put down the table once it’s far enough to the side and he’s letting out soft huffs of air, little beads of sweat make his makeup run a bit. It wasn’t that heavy, next time she could probably lift it alone.

“Do you have any extra blankets?”

“Uh, um, in the closet.” He points her in a direction; he’s too winded to be dramatic about it.

She’s smiling as she rummages, finding the biggest softest blanket she can. It falls across the center of the room with a soft noise, big enough for two and a cat. Tsuneko falls back against the blanket with all the grace of a boulder, stretching her arms and legs out to feel the soft fabric beneath her.

The Hatter follows suit, falling in place beside her. She can feel the warmth of his presence next to her, the fabric of his costume brushing against her, his limbs tangled with her own in the places where their sprawled bodies overlap and the way any semblance of personal space has been abandoned.

It’s not uncomfortable though, it should be but it isn’t. This kind of thing usually makes her want to scream and run away. Blurring of boundaries and sharing stories of the past, things that normally put a pit in her stomach feel fine here with him. Why? She’s never told Sakiko or Chisato a thing about her past, not even little anecdotes and she usually doesn’t let them too close, a casual touch here and there too. But, she’s never been able to relax like this, just letting someone be in her space.

Her eyes drift from the artificial stars to the man beside her, eyes narrowing as she tries to crack this code. His hat fell off, the teal hair color must be wash out, and she can see black patches of hair starting to peek through. The white face paint around his neck and forehead has started to rub off, little patches of regular fair skin beneath. She wants to fix it, retouch up his hair and makeup for him. She’s so accustomed to his over the top fake appearance, seeing even glimmers of the person beneath it is making her a little uncomfortable.

It’s because he’s fake.

The realization of it hits her. That’s why this is okay, why she can tell him about falling off the roof and can let him into her space, he’s not real. He is, but he isn’t. Sakiko and Chisato are real people they’re opinions, judgments, and actions have an impact on her. If they know the dumb shit she’s done or see her vulnerable, they’re judgment would hurt so much, because it’ll mean something.

The Hatter is fake, he may exist, but everything about him feels fake. It’s not like talking to a real person; she’s talking to a character, someone whose existence only impacts Wonderland. Everything about him is so far detached from reality, even Wonderland feels like she’s stepped into another world; it feels like nothing here matters. Like saying things to an imaginary friend or Kiyo. It means nothing, so why bother with boundaries? But, the Hatter exists and can give some sort of proper response. He’s not real enough, not enough of a person for her hang ups to matter, but enough of a person that it doesn’t feel like she’s talking to herself.

He falls into this uncanny valley of existence and it brings her a sense of comfort. There’s someone she can tell stupid things too, someone who can hear her, but not impact her. He’s a step up from talking into the void, but still a step down from talking to people. She can relax and have no fear with him, something she thought she could only do alone.

“Do I have something on my face Alice?”

“Huh, ah no, hey, you want to hear something stupid that happened after I broke my arm?” She stares back at the sky as she changes the topic.

“What’s that?”

“A couple days after a kid at school was annoying me, but I couldn’t punch him because of my arm. I was so upset I couldn’t fight because of my cast, I went home and tried to cut it off with a handsaw.”

“What!?” he slaps a hand over his mouth as he laughs.”

“My dad caught me before I broke through it all and had to take me to get it redone; I was so upset I didn’t talk to him for a whole day.”

“I never imagined my Alice was such a violent child,” he teases.

“You have no idea, I was a garbage kid. Like bad seed, demon spawn type shit. My parents would have had better luck raising a rabid dog, I swear.”

“You couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You want to bet? I swear every kid and their parents hated me. One time, a kid’s mom brought in cupcakes I didn’t like, so I pushed him off the jungle gym. Who does that!?”

“Alice, that’s awful!”

“I know, I was the worst, I’m not sure how my folks put up with me.”

“Lots of patience, I’m sure.”

“I think my dad still has a scar from when I bit him for telling me to go to bed.”

“You’re starting to sound more like the jabberwock than my Alice.”

“I can see that, I might be a jabberwock in disguise, you never know.”

“I’d still be happy to have you, even as a jabberwock. I’d adore you, claws and all.”

“You’re too sweet-oof,” the wind is knocked out of her as Cheshire hops onto her chest, “well, hello to you too.”

“What’s that Cheshire? Hmmm, you’d love Alice as a jabberwock too, guess we’re in agreement.”

“Awww, is that true sweetie?” She scratches over the cat’s fur, feeling Cheshire lean into her touch and purr.

“She means every word of it, no matter what she’d adore you.”

Heat flood Tsuneko’s cheeks, he’s really too nice to her, even knowing he helped sell her she can’t help thinking how nice he is.

“Hey, there’s even constellations up there,” Tsuneko points up at the projected night sky, “I’m pretty sure that’s Capricorn.”

“Do you know the constellations Alice?”

“A few of them, not a lot though, there was a girl in my class who could find and name them all in a second.”

There’s a pang in her heart, guilt eating at her when she thinks about that girl, but she swallows it down like bile and pushes those thoughts from her mind. She wants to be happy right now, in this little piece of Wonderland completely divorced from reality and in front of this odd man who seems to only exist here, she wants to be happy.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know any of them, Alice.”

“I only learned a few from other people; if I’m being honest they don’t mean anything to me. It all looks like random dots to me, the stories are interesting though.”

“Did you get invited out a lot, Alice?”

“Uhhh, invite isn’t really the right word, I just kind of showed up, whether anyone wanted me there or not. They’re fun though, have you ever been to anything like that?”

“Huh!? Uh, I can’t remember clearly, I’ve been in Wonderland for the past four years, so…”

“You haven’t been outside in four years?”

“Huh? Of course not,” his voice trembles and his eyes widen, “are you suggesting I go above ground, your jokes are too much Alice.”

“Hmm, okay, I understand.”

She’s not sure she does fully, but she can tell he must not want to push the issue. Maybe he’s agoraphobic? Why wouldn’t he ever want to leave, he’s even more cut off from reality then she realized. Does he have a family? Do they know what he does?

Does she want to know?

If she knew about those things, he’d be more human. If he’s more human, would she still feel so safe being like this with him? Would this new-found sense of comfort, a strange almost friendship, be ruined once he’s real?

Her eyelids are heavy and she can’t help yawning. How late is it? She checks the time on her phone, it’s past two am, how did time pass by so quickly?

“Are you tired Alice?” The Hatter asks with a soft voice, it feels like a lullaby to her sleepy brain.

Even in Wonderland, completely separate from reality, she’s not going to sleep in front of someone. The most she’s ever allowed is the occasional dozing off at hair salon, but those are never deep or enough for dream, just resting her eyes before she’s told to move. If she allows herself to sleep here, it’ll be a deep dreamy sleep. She’ll have a nightmare and scare him, or worse. There’s no place far enough from reality for her to allow herself to be that vulnerable.

“Yeah, I have to get headed home.” She pulls herself up to her feet and the hatter follows suit.

“Oh…you know, you could sleep here.”

“Uh, no, I couldn’t intrude like that.”

“It wouldn’t be intruding; I…have a room you can use.”

“Huh, you do?”

“I do and it might not be safe for you to walk alone so late.”

“My dorm is like five minutes away.”

His eyes focus on the floor and he pouts.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

His voice is soft and timid; he looks like a lost puppy dog. If he has another bedroom, there are a couple of doors around Wonderland, then she wouldn’t be near him while she was sleeping. So, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Alright, where’s the spare room?”

“Oh! Yes! It’s right this way! ~”

He’s back to excited child status and all but skips towards one of the doors. She trails after him, movements sluggish with exhaustion. The Hatter opens the door like he’s revealing the most magical of secrets and her eyes widen.

The room is gorgeous, if not for the fact it would mean living with someone, Tsuneko wouldn’t mind staying here permanently. Part of the walls are soft floral patterns, the lower half pastel blue and white vertical stripes. The bed has a soft blue blanket and pale pink canopy.

“It’s so cute!”

“I’m glad you like it, you can use it anytime you want.”

“I really appreciate it, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, I’m happy to have you here; I’ll let you sleep now.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Alice.”

She waves him off for the night and shuts the door, why does he have the extra room? It seems like an odd thing to keep, the March Hare and Dormouse obviously don’t stay here. But, everything about him is odd, so maybe it’s best not to question things. She sends a quick text asking Chisato to check on Kiyo if she can and kicks off her boots, she doesn’t exactly have pajamas here, but she’s tired enough to fall asleep in anything.

Maybe it’s the stress of the shopping trip with Carolina finally coming down on her or having just gotten to relax with someone, either way she doesn’t feel the usual resistance to getting ready to sleep. She’s ready to crash already, she just hope she doesn’t make any noises to attract attention to her room. The walls don’t seem too thin, but that doesn’t mean soundproof.

She sets an alarm on her phone, tosses off her jacket and undoes the bun that’s been holding up half of her hair before throwing herself on the bed. It’s plush and so soft; it isn’t just nice to look at. Tsuneko roots and finds her way under the blanket; her eyelids grow heavier and heavier as she drifts off to sleep.

A deafening sort of silence overwhelms her as Tsuneko stands in the house; too cold, too dark, and too quiet to be considered a home.

The silence is pierced as rope shifts and wood creaks. Her heart pounds in her ears and she jolts into movement. A different kind of overwhelming, too quiet replaced with too loud, complete whiplash.

Too loud.

Too desperate.

Hot tears stream down her face, her lungs burn with the need to breath. It’s like she’s on fire, heat simmering under her skin and sweat running down the back of her neck.

Tsuneko sees her. Long dark hair falls over her face, noose wrapped tighter around her neck and the wood creaks with the strain to hold her body up. She doesn’t look dead, like she could move or breathe any second. Maybe, Tsuneko can save her.

She’s under them, forcing their weight up onto her shoulders. If she can lift them up higher, she can reduce the tension, stop them from strangling.

If only she was taller.

If only she was stronger.

If only she was smarter.

If only she was faster.

If only she was better.

If only she was enough.

But she’s not.

The weight of the body slumps heavy her shoulders, they’ve gone cold and decay is setting in.

Too short, she couldn’t get them up higher.

Too weak, couldn’t lift them up further.

Too stupid, why didn’t she grab a ladder, something to cut the rope?

Too late, if only she had gotten there sooner.

Too cruel, that’s why they’d choose death over her.

She’s not enough good things and too many bad things, a disgusting mess that drives everyone away.

Death is more desirable than her.

Death was better than one more moment with her.

Tsuneko wakes up with a jerk, knocking a pillow over in her frenetic movement. Her face is soaking wet, hot tears flooding her vision, she tries to wipe them away but her fingers are numb and trembling.

She can’t catch a deep enough breathe; every breath is a desperate gasp that just feels too shallow to keep her going. Her throat is tight, like it’s swelling and her heart won’t stop pounding.

Just a little peace, that’s all she wants. Why is that too much to ask? Why is her mind constantly reminding her of every failure, why does she have to be such a failure?

She needs to get away. Doesn’t matter where, just away.

Her hands are shaking; she nearly drops her phone and puts her jacket on inside out. She doesn’t bother zipping her boots, just shoving her feet into them before moving.

That’s all she needs to do right now, is move, go, get away. The door of the spare bedroom closes behind her with a noise and her panic fogged brain can just hear the sound of water running.

It’s coming from the bathroom, a shower.

The Hatter is taking a shower, so mundane, but so odd to think of with him. His hair color and makeup would be completely washed away, he must look…human. The water stops and the door starts to creak open. If she stays she’ll see who he is, he’ll be real.

She’s gone.

The door to Wonderland slams shut behind her and she’s taking the stairs two at a time, just pushing forward with every stumble or trip that threatens to send her falling back down.

She doesn’t want to see the real him.

She doesn’t want to see him as a person.

She doesn’t want the illusion broken.

If she lets that happen…

It’s over.

It’s ruined.

Whatever glimmer of happiness, whatever minute amount of peace she’s found here will be destroyed.

He’ll be real, he’ll be human, and he’ll know what a mess she is.

He’ll have shown her the real him before he’s ready, there’s a reason he’s like this, he’ll never want to see her again.

She’s so sick of everything going to shit.

She’s sick of how fragile every moment of happiness is.

She doesn’t want to destroy anything else.

She doesn’t want to ruin anything else.

She doesn’t want to be like this.

Why can’t she stop being like this?

Why can’t she just be happy?

Her feet hurt. She stops moving, a few random people brushing past her without concern for her state. She’s somewhere in the city, she’s not sure where. She just kept moving.

She’s breathing heavy, but it’s different. Huffs from exertion rather than panic. Her heart is starting to calm. Her limbs are heavy and leaden, but no longer numb. She just wants to fall down in the middle of the street and rest, maybe in the road so a truck tire can cave her skull in.

Instead, she checks her phone. She’s going to be late for work. If Ichinomiya thinks she’s avoiding work for the bet, she’ll lose automatically.

Does it even matter?

Can she even get her life back on track if she wins?

Even if she does, will it make her happy?

It’s not like she was ever really happy before.

Maybe even if she wins she’d be better off dead.

She doesn’t have time for this anymore. She’s used up her daily allotted breakdown time it seems, mental health takes a back seat to a paycheck until further notice.

Tsuneko sits down at a nearby bus stop, looking at the schedules available and makes a call, a heavy sigh on her lips.

“Yeah, Kenzaki, I’m going to be late. Sorry for being a bother.”

Her voice cracks with how much she means it. She’s just making everyone else’s life harder, fucking things up, that’s all she ever does.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb ota #kbtbb baba #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb rhion #black market wonderland

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seenashwrite · 5 years

Text

12 Days

Status: Complete Word Count: 4.7K Category: One-shot; Humor; Holidays; Christmas; Behind-the-scenes canon-compliant; Fluffersnark Rating: Teen & Up Character(s): Dean, Sam, Cas, You, special guest stars Warnings: None Author’s Note(s): Merry Christmas ya filthy animals; let’s use some tropes for good not evil; don’t sweat the word count, a good chunk of it is listing things (you’ll see); more post-story Overall Summary: It’s twelve days until Christmas, business is slow, but boredom has been chased away by the arrival of some very special gifts for two very deserving hunters.

It started on the thirteenth, which - as all supernaturally-inclined people know - is a harbinger of doom. But Dean didn't see it that way, at least, not at first. Neither his hackles nor his suspicions were raised, and why would they be?

Sam pointed out that they should be, given the lack of postage or a “from” on the fancy tag attached to the fancy box with the fancy bow.

Here was the thing, though: pie.

The smell was heavenly; well, as heaven ought to smell, as far as Dean was concerned. And it should taste of whiskey. And it should sound of classic rock and classic engines. And it should feel of broken-in leather seats - hell, even just broken-in flannel. Anyone who knew Dean would presume such, and they would be correct.

And there, now, atop a library table, was a little piece of heaven. The tag had a "1" drawn on it in ornate calligraphy, a TO DEAN just under, and when opened, a charming drawing of the best of desserts, more fanciful handwriting proclaiming: A Fresh Homemade Apple Pie.

"Whoa," said Dean.

"Hmmm," said Sam.

It was beautiful, it was exquisite, it was delicious, and Dean ate it straight from the box, demolished it, nothing but crumbs in just under an hour.

"You don't think this is a bit weird?" Sam asked, watching as his brother leaned back with a contented sigh.

Dean brought his eyes to Sam's, then rolled them. "Our life is weird. Anyway, I know exactly who this is from - it's about trying to make up for that fight we had last week."

"Hmmm," said Sam.

Again.

The next day, there were two boxes - the first was identical to the the prior day's, from packaging to content. The second was wrapped in kind, only bigger, the tag sporting "2", and featuring a tiny inking of brightly-colored shirts, though this time the tag read TO DEAN & SAM. Inside were plaid flannel button-downs, one for each of them, perfectly sized, in exactly the colors they would have chosen.

Dean was pleased, goaded Sam into trying his on; he begrudgingly admitted it was nice. But he had a question, so he asked it.

"I don’t get it - why? I mean, including me, if this is about your fight?"

Dean shrugged. "Got me. Who cares? I'm up for getting my ass kissed six ways to Sunday - if she wants to run The Twelve Days of Christmas gambit, she can knock herself out."

"Technically, the twelve days should start after----"

Dean interrupted as he picked up the box with the pie. "Before, after - I can handle twelve days of this whenever. So? You in this time?"

Outside the bunker door on this day were three boxes: first, pie; the next, shirts; and the newest elicited a gasp from its recipient. TO DEAN, read the tag, Three Rocking Tapes. And there, just as the little drawing had shown, were three mix tapes full of his favorite songs, and his favorite songs only, no filler, no B-sides. He would soon find that one of the tapes was strictly live recordings, and the tunes were as crisp as if time had been rolled back briefly so as to capture the melodies in HD, sounding as if he were right there in the front row.

Dean put on his new flannel, stuffed his pants pockets with the tapes, snatched up the pie, and scurried to his room without another word. Or a fork. Or a napkin.

Sam sighed, and then he put away the shirts.

Brought into the library were four packages - one pie, two shirts, three tapes, and now a box which held tiny bottles of top-shelf liquor. Four Shots Of Whiskey declared the tag, and Sam would swear that Dean erupted in what one could’ve interpreted as a squeal. A very manly one, naturally.

It tasted wonderful, according to Dean, and he thought to offer Sam the fourth after pounding the first three. Sam tried it, happened to agree, and he drank his shot as Dean hacked into the latest pie.

An odd look crossed his face.

“What?” asked Sam.

Dean shook himself out of it. “Nothing. She tweaked the recipe, I guess.”

Sam nodded, set his empty bottle with the rest, but before he began to gather the shirts, he asked another question:

“Didn’t she always say she hated to cook?”

Dean was singing under his breath as he tied his robe a little tighter, then opened the door. “It’s the most wonderful time of the---- Whoa!”

He’d yelled so loudly that Sam came rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “What is it? What’s wr---- Wow.”

The morning had brought with it one pie, two shirts, three tapes, four whiskeys, and there, on a very large, very heavy box, a tag reading TO SAM.

As he flipped the tag open, he said, “I think she’s doing it wrong, I don’t think each gift is supposed to be repeated every----” Sam cut himself off with a massive intake of air once he saw it:

FIVE BOOKS OF LORE!

They were old, slightly yellowed, smelled ancient, and Dean wrinkled his nose, but Sam inhaled deeply, and his eyes sparkled as he laid each of the books out on the table almost reverently.

“These…. are…. AMAZING.” He looked to Dean, excited. “They’re really rare, I’ve been looking for a couple of these for forever!” A pause. “Something wrong with the shirts?”

Dean had opened the package, and was staring into it with a perplexed expression; he held up a sleeve for Sam to see.

“This look pink to you?”

A hunt had taken the duo away from the bunker overnight, and on the front steps the evening of the sixth day, waiting for them to return, were: one pie, two shirts, three tapes, four whiskeys, five books, and six bags of salt.

“That woulda been useful last night,” Dean muttered.

“It was a big body,” Sam commented.

“He was a whale!” Dean snapped.

Sam frowned. “Why don’t you eat some pie and calm down.”

Dean grumbled something unintelligible.

“Huh?” Sam asked.

Dean didn’t answer, but did continue to grumble as they brought the salt bags - and the rest - inside.

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” Sam tried again.

Dean sighed, and said, “Yesterday’s pie was… off.”

“Define ‘off’,” said Sam.

“It was really… I dunno, sour, or something.”

“Maybe it was a different kind of apple.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, now you’ll be used to it, if it’s in today’s.”

“You assume I’m gonna try today’s.”

Sam gave Dean a look.

Dean returned it in kind - then he shrugged, picked up the pie, turned to go to his room, thought better of it, turned around, and grabbed the whiskey, too.

A suspect stomach prevented Dean from seeing the newest batch of presents until Sam had brought most of it down into the war room, the flush of a toilet echoing down the hallway heralding his arrival, and he stood by the stairs, watching as the job was completed.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Sam said with a grunt, depositing the last box onto the map table.

Dean studied his sweaty brother. “Why’re you so-----”

“Because, look,” Sam said, pointing.

The bags of salt had increased in size, tripling, in fact, from the few modest pounds the day prior; even for Sam, it was quite the haul. That made: six bags of salt, five books of lore, four whiskey shots, three rocking tapes, two flannel shirts, and a fresh homemade apple pie.

“Fresh, my ass!” Dean practically screamed at the package. But then his attention went to the newest arrival. “You or me?” he asked.

“You do it,” Sam replied, flopping into a chair, hair flopping out of his eyes as he did so.

Dean looked at the tag and grinned. “Ah-ha. Lucky you. Hopefully this time it’s something we can both----” Scanning further, he cut himself off, raised his eyebrows. “Welp. At least there’s the whiskey.” He gestured to the box as he took his own seat. “All yours.”

TO SAM ~ Seven Healthy Smoothies

As Sam removed the ornate wrapping and began to open the box, he jostled it, and his eyes met Dean’s briefly at the sound of clinking glass. He began removing the smoothies and setting them in a line. All seven were cool to the touch, all in crystal goblets, all piled high and with a dusting of peppermint flakes on top, all ready-to-drink due to the thoughtfully-included straws.

And all were an interesting shade of slightly neon green.

“It’s… festive,” Sam finally said, after several beats of silence.

“So? You gonna try it?” Dean asked, caution in his voice, a hand reflexively coming up to rub his belly.

“I dunno - you really think the pie made you sick? The pie itself - not the fact that you’ve been killing off a whole one every day for a week now?” Sam asked pointedly.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Then try it.”

“All right,” Sam replied, and picked one up, brought it to his nose for a sniff and, apparently satisfied that it wasn’t toxic in that regard, took a tiny sip. He grinned. He sipped more. He grinned more. And then he removed the straw and began to gulp it down. When he lowered the glass and his line of sight was clear, he found Dean eyeing him.

“Really?” Dean asked.

“It’s great!” Sam exclaimed, picking up another. “I gotta ask her for the recipe! Hey, have you talked to her at all? To say you’re sorry?”

“I’m not sorry,” Dean replied, smug, and stood - pausing briefly as his gut let out a horrific moan - then took the box with the tapes and retreated to his room.

Sam huffed, and shouted after him. “You’re not gonna help me with all this salt?!”

“You need to call her.”

Dean and Sam were standing near a bookshelf, watching the box, both jumping in sync, startled when the shaking started up again.

“No.”

“Then go open it.”

“You open it.”

“Yesterday’s was for me, this one is probably----”

“It may be for both of us----”

“I can see your name on the tag from here!”

Rock, paper, scissors ensued.

Dean lost.

He flicked open his pocket knife as he walked to the table. The box suddenly went still when he gingerly raised the tag with the tip of the knife. “I can’t read what it says,” he told Sam.

“You could if you actually opened it!” Sam replied, growing annoyed.

“Fine, I’ll open it!” Dean declared, and used the knife to draw a large slit through the paper, enough to where he could get the flaps of the box open.

“I meant the tag--- oh, never mind,” said Sam.

Dean stood there staring down into box for so long that Sam finally walked over - and he found himself staring, as well, once he came to a stop by Dean.

The contents of the box were glowing.

Along with the seven healthy smoothies, six bags of salt, five books of lore, four whiskey shots, three rocking tapes, two flannel shirts, and a fresh homemade apple pie, it appeared the Winchesters were now the owners of eight canning jars, based upon the two rows of four metal caps, jars with minuscule holes pierced into the lids, jars whose contents pulsed gently with a warm amber light.

Rock, paper, scissors ensued.

Sam lost.

Dean backed away.

Sam reached in, removed a jar, snickered, then turned to show Dean that there, trapped inside the glass, was a fast-chirping, hard-glowing, wings-vibrating, bird-shooting, larger-than-usual-size, very pissed-off little lady.

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “But why?” he whispered.

Sam read the tag aloud. “TO DEAN - Eight Angry Fairies.” Then he burst into laughter.

“Sure, real funny!” Dean said with a sneer. “This is a total bitch move, even for her!”

Sam laughed harder. “We only have one microwave - you gonna go for the oven this time? What do you think, about three-fifty for a half-hour should do it, huh?” He set down the jar, still chuckling as he moved to the box containing his smoothies, took one out.

“You still have some in the fridge!” said Dean, coming back to the table, but hesitating briefly when the fairy threw herself against the inside of the jar, rocking it and causing a puff of sugarplum-scented glitter to waft into the air. He quickly picked it up by the lid - using his fingertips only - and deposited her back with her friends, closing the flaps for good measure.

Sam continued unpacking, said, “I know, but I wanted to see if she’d done anything new to these.” He took a sip, closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up as it slipped down his throat.

“And?”

“They still taste great. Better, even. How’s the pie been?”

“Didn’t finish yesterday’s, it was mushy.”

“Mushy?”

“Yeah, mushy!” Dean exclaimed. “Why do you care?”

“Jeez, Dean! I’m just making conversation!”

“And the tapes suck, too, before you ask!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The first day they were great, and the second day, and then all of a sudden hair band rock started sneaking in----”

“You like----”

“NO, not ALL of it, and then there was grunge----”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, and you know what was on the last one? Right in the middle of ‘Black Betty’? Friggin’ Bieber!”

Sam went back to laughing. “This is too good, you get what she’s doing, right? She’s telling you she’s not sorry, either!”

Dean began to sulk, and Sam went back to drinking the smoothie, both still doing so when Castiel came into the room.

After a brief frown at the pile of salt bags - once more having increased in poundage since the last batch - he asked about all the packages. They explained. The frown returned.

“So you haven’t been helping her in any way, at all?” Dean asked.

“No,” replied Castiel, picking up a fairy jar and studying it. “I wager someone is, however, based upon the books Sam is receiving, and based upon these specimens - they’re quite reclusive and quite aggressive, that she managed to locate eight is… impressive.” He returned the jar to the box and turned to Sam. “Have the books continued to be rare tomes?”

Sam swallowed the most recent mouthful of his lime-hued treat, and answered, “In a way - they’ve all been different, and nothing we already have, but…. it’s just….”

Dean and Castiel raised their eyebrows, prompting him.

“Well, a few have been about cryptids, some about urban legend type stuff, things that she knows aren’t true. Maybe it’s some filler, since she’s having to come up with so many of them, or something.”

“And today’s?” asked Castiel.

“Open it up and see, if you want,” answered Sam, and Castiel did so.

“These are hardback copies of first-edition Chuck Shurley stories,” he said.

Sam just barely managed to avoid a spit-take. “This is great!” he choked out.

“Laugh it up, ass,” Dean shot back, and tore into the box with the shirts. He groaned. He yanked them out, threw them on the table, greeted with more of the same ol’, same ol’. Sort-of. Their sizes, yes; flannel, yes; pleasant-colored-plaid, no. They were patterned in pastel flowers.

A thought striking, he ran to his room, came back with a boombox, tested out the tapes. They were indeed classic rock. The elevator music version. Dean was fuming. The box of whiskey still held liquor, and it was still whiskey, though just a taste told him it was no longer top-shelf; not swill, but definitely well.

And then there was the pie.

Once the seal was broken, the smell was an assault, something sharp and pungent, all three men muttering “ugh” and “oof” and “ew”, and when Dean set it on the table, it made a belching sound, the slightly burnt crust sinking down, a thick grey ooze seeping out and over the edge of the dish.

“Man, she’s really nailing you, Dean!” Sam cried, laughing so hard this time that tears came to his eyes, and he had to sit down, Dean’s glare doing nothing to stop him, and when he settled, he was finishing off the last of his drink when Castiel directed a question his way.

“Why are you consuming pureed elf?”

“This doesn’t make sense,” said Sam.

He held up one of the shoes. A left shoe, because they were all lefts. He had been gifted, according to the tag, Nine Missing Shoes.

Dean ran a hand over his face. “They’re not actively trying to kill us. Can we not look a gift horse, here?”

Sam tossed the shoe back into the box. “Let’s get started.”

Castiel had advised the fairies be kept in the dungeon - in their tightly sealed jars, of course - until he could determine what best to do with them. Dean and Sam, meanwhile, had a plan for the rest. Seven smoothies, flushed away. Six salt bags, piled in storage (after all, it would eventually get used). Five books, after being screened for usefulness, taken to recycling. Four whiskeys, after being tasted for quality, down the drain. Three tapes, after being checked for listen-a-bility, crushed underfoot. Flannel shirts, if not of plaid or plain flannel, donated. And as for the pie, into a trash bag it would go.

Their mission took the entire day, and after they pulled back into the garage and Dean cut the engine, he turned to Sam. “I think she’s trying to say something about bad luck.”

“With the shoes?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Maybe she’s trying to say that it’s like the other stuff - nothing bad at first, but get ready, it’s coming.”

“Can you just… just get over it, and call her? I’m afraid she’s messing with some bad stuff, if she’s getting into cursed objects all because of a stupid misunderstanding---”

“I have tried, okay?! It kept going to voicemail, all last night, and when I tried earlier, it was disconnected!”

Sam blanched. “We need to do a locator spell, or get Cas to find her - she could be in real trouble, Dean.”

“She’s not in trouble, she’s being a dick,” Dean spat, and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him - and then he froze.

Sam climbed out, followed Dean’s gaze, and he was stunned - there, near the steps leading back into the bunker, was every gift they’d just disposed of, stacked and wrapped, not a bow out of place. They shared a serious look, then spoke at the same time.

“I’m getting the ingredients!” Sam announced.

“I’m getting Cas!” Dean announced.

The locator spell did not work, and the brothers, defeated, went to bed, but fell asleep with faith in their hearts, with faith in their angel friend, who was, at that very moment, out looking for the source of the mischief which had fallen upon them.

However.

They knew he was having no success when they were awoken at the same time in the middle of the night by footsteps running down the hallway. Sleepiness initially impacted aim, but a baker’s dozen of rounds later, and the shoes had been brought to a halt. The pair of gun-wielding, mussed-hair, pajama’d hunters looked upon the pile of hole-filled sneakers at their socked feet.

“Heh. Lucky thirteen,” said Dean.

Sam just looked at him.

“Thirteenth try’s the charm?” Dean suggested.

Sam rolled his eyes, shook his head, and went back to bed.

“‘This is too good, Dean!’ ‘This is great, Dean!’ ‘She’s really nailing you, Dean!’” Dean muttered in a high-pitched, mocking tone as he shuffled off to his bedroom. A squeak from behind caused him to whip around, fire a shot into the side of a shoe which had weakly tried to make a run for it. Its laces went lax.

Dean made sure to reload before his head met his pillow.

10.

A not-so-fresh homemade rotted-apple pie. Two lavender, paisley-patterned flannel shirts. Three rocking tapes filled with “Rock-A-Bye-Baby”, karaoke-style, by a singer who sounded a great deal like William Shatner. Four rancid whiskey shots. Five Hardy Boys books. Six twenty-pound sacks of salt. Seven pureed elf smoothies, with what appeared to be fingernails sprinkled on top. Eight angry fairies, whose flailing was beginning to crack the glass. Nine missing shoes, which squeaked out whines despite not making contact with the floor.

And now, ten tiny bubbling cauldrons of putrid purple, Ten Witches’ Fluids, all for Dean.

“I hate her,” Dean said.

“No, you don’t,” Sam said.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Dean said.

“No, you won’t,” Sam said.

11.

Dean crouched down, jaw dropped, putting himself on eye-level with the intricately-carved case, fixated on the row of eleven clown marionettes. He poked one in the tummy with his index finger. They all began to sway and giggle maniacally.

“Yep,” he said. “Eleven clowns-a-dancing.”

“Nope,” Sam said, and he fished his lighter from his pocket, then held it between his teeth as he began to drag one of the massive bags of salt toward the table. He managed to tear the corner of it open, spilling salt everywhere, scooping up two handfuls and stomping to the creepy diorama.

Dean shook himself out of distraction and stood in between his adrenaline-fueled brother and the newest gift. “What are you---- no, Sam, NO!”

Sam threw the salt in the direction of the snickering puppet nightmare anyway, but the lighter now resided in a tightly-clutched fist. “WHY NOT?!” he bellowed in response, his neck - his entire face - flushed.

“You wanna do a salt-and-burn inside? Are you insane?”

“SHE’S insane! Why would she do this, what have I ever done to her?!”

“Oh, because I deserve this? Because I’ve done something to her?!”

Sam was livid, and he’d be lying if he said a good portion of it wasn’t from fear. “What was the fight about?”

“Whadda you care?”

Now it was Sam’s jaw that dropped, and he wordlessly gestured to the clowns; they tittered and chanted “Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam!” in acknowledgment.

Dean sighed. “She got pissed because when she met up with us to help out, I said… look, she’s real independent, I get it, and I get that she’s been hunting a long time, but not as long as we have, and….”

“What. Did. You. Do,” Sam asked, voice low, teeth grit.

“I maybe said… suggested… that she hang back a little, because… well, you remember her leg? The time before last? When she wasn’t paying attention, and that rugaru shoved her into that rusty junk at the scrapyard? How nasty it was? How much she cried, I mean, I’ve never seen her cry, and...”

Sam crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find his next words, and when he did, they came out in a burst. “She could've gotten tetanus!”

Sam looked at Dean in disbelief. “Do you like her-like her?”

Dean gave him a look. “Are we in grade school? What the hell does----”

Sam quite possibly gasped. “You do.” Now he took a few steps in Dean’s direction, quite possibly poised to punch. “I heard you talking to her about staying safe, and giving her tips she doesn’t need, but you’re the reason she cut out early, aren’t you? You went and pulled a bunch of ‘Hey sweetheart, you’re gonna get yourself hurt, I’ll protect you’ crap, didn’t you?”

Dean’s silence was all the confirmation that was needed.

Sam shook his head, began backing away, pointing to the clowns. “Burn them!” he hissed, then continued in reverse out of the room, not turning his back on the pile of presents til he was halfway down the hall.

12.

So it was, on the twelfth day of Christmas, the exhausted and gut-churned brothers now had in their possession:

A troupe of tiny clowns who wouldn’t shut up; a now-quarantined med room because of witch fluid corroding anything in its path; shoes that screamed as they pounded against the door of the room into which they’d been thrown; a dungeon filled with escaped, definitely rabid fairies; a stopped-up sink of viscous elf; a storage room stacked with overflowing bags of salt that trickled into the hall; a kitchen table filled with bottom-barrel whiskey; a crate with un-spooled tapes that would re-spool each night; racks filled with garish flannels; and taking over the refrigerator, worm-laden apple pies.

"It's the 24th. That's it," whispered Sam.

"What could that mean for tomorrow? Since it'll officially be Christmas?" Dean whispered back.

Sam turned to him, seriousness coating his posture, his expression, his tone. "It means we should be the hell out of town."

Dean grabbed Sam by his jacket, eyes wild. "She’ll find us! It doesn't matter where we go! Cas is still out there looking for her, but he’s never gonna find her!"

“She doesn’t want to be found. And I know why. I know what I did,” Sam said.

A barely-there vroom prompted them to look warily upon the twelve glossy, innocent-seeming toys in the long, narrow box. Dean let loose of Sam, and then he snatched the tag off the box - TO DEAN ~ Twelve Classic Cars - ripped it in two, and tossed the scraps to the side. Not that it would do anything but it felt good.

“So, what? What do you think? Will it help us get out of this mess?” he asked.

“I don’t know, because how am I supposed to apologize?” Sam asked in reply, and then he said, “I heard you being all patronizing with your hunter 101 tips, at the motel. I was right there, and I didn’t speak up. I could’ve changed the subject or pulled you aside and told you to lay off. That’s what I did - what I didn’t do.”

Dean grew solemn. “So that’s what I was being? Patronizing?”

Sam nodded. “You’d wouldn’t talk that way to me. I mean, you want me safe - I want you safe - and you sure as hell tell me when you disagree with me, but... you’d never make it seem like… like…”

“Like if you got hurt on a hunt, it’d be because you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. I think... I think all she needs to know is that you believe in her, and you’ve got her back.”

“And how I think she’s pretty freaking badass,” Dean added. “Because, I do.”

They stood silently for a few moments. Twelve tinny horns honked. They looked to the cars.

“Curse box?” asked Sam.

“Curse box,” confirmed Dean.

The curse box, while sturdy and appropriately chanted over, was - apparently - on holiday, as it were.

It was midnight when Sam was jolted awake by his door slamming against the wall, Dean jumping on his bed so hard it nearly rolled him onto the floor with the rebound. He immediately pulled his gun from under his pillow when he saw Dean’s shocked expression, the shotgun in his hands, aimed somewhere at the floor. Then he noted twelve pairs of headlights, heard twelve revving engines.

And eleven cackling clowns.

And nine pounding steps.

And eight flapping wings.

The clock on the bedside table flipped to 12:01.

Despite everything, Dean grinned. “Merry Christmas,” he said with a pump of the shotgun.

The grin was returned. “Merry Christmas,” replied Sam with a click of the hammer.

You leaned back, moving your legs to the side as Chuck took his seat, then passed two of the small popcorn containers he carried to you and Amara.

“Extra salt?” you asked.

“Got you covered,” he said in reply; to Amara, he said, “And there’s M&Ms, too, Sis."

“Oooooh, yes,” she responded happily.

“What’d I miss?” asked Chuck.

“Round one just started,” you answered, then ate a mouthful of the best popcorn ever created.

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask - did you want some elf poltergeists in the pipes?” Amara inquired.

You shook your head. “No, this is good. I think they learned their lesson. Besides, I’m glad they’re having some fun.” You pointed to the large movie screen at the front of the empty theater. “Look at those faces.”

“Pure bliss,” she agreed. “And I must say, you’re very creative.”

“Not really,” you said with a little laugh. “I just thought: how do I show them that even the best hunters can get wrapped up in a crazy situation? How sometimes it’s just bad luck? And that the last thing that’s helpful is to be babied about it? Plus, well, ‘tis the season of giving.”

“So do you think you’ll go for it with Dean, now that you’ve got some inside scoop?” asked Chuck.

“Ah. Well. What do you guys think I should do?”

“Can’t answer that,” Amara said.

“Free will’s the name of the game,” Chuck said.

“Fair enough,” you said.

A few moments of chewing on the parts of all parties, then:

“He’s a great kisser,” Amara offered.

“I wrote him to be fantastic in bed,” Chuck added.

You gulped, then coughed. “Good to know,” you croaked.

Chuck smiled. “Who says we don’t answer prayers?”

See Nash Write : Master / See Nash Write : Mobile

🏷️🏷️Wanna be tagged? Hit me up! 🏷️🏷️

Author’s Note #2: I know I took liberties with the 12 days dates, hope you don’t mind too terribly much 😉

Author’s Note #3: My trope comment means: Dean likes pie? Are you sure?! and Sam loves THE LORE?! OMG! and on and on and on, which often... often... offfften... we (and yes, I’m pointing fingers at myself, too!) beat into the ground in our stories. I thought I’d attack some of those. And granted, they attacked back.

Behold, the summoning of The Nashooligans:

@butiaintgonnaloveem @impandagrl @waywardjoy @jalove-wecallhimdean @jame-sbarnes @just-another-busy-fangirl @amanda-teaches @fanforfanatic @salt-n-burn-em-all @idreamofhazel @cyrilconnelly @rozadolphin @theblackharrystyles @carryonmycobaltangel @ilsawasanacrobat @klaineaholic @helvonasche @ericaprice2008 @amionthetumbler @tankcupcakes @littlegreenplasticsoldier @emlostinwonderland @michellethetvaddict @theoriginalvicki @ellen-reincarnated1967 @copperseraphim @mrswhozeewhatsis @crowleylovesyou @bumbleball13 @anticipate1003 @sixtysevenandwhiskey @raspberrymama @lastactiontricia @babypieandwhiskey @winchesterprincessbride @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @roseblue373 @waterfeenix137 @thisismysecrethappyplace @fandomismyspirit @thedevilinthedetails @rainflowermoon

#Supernatural Fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #Christmas Fanfic #Christmas Fanfiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Castiel #and more!#Nash Writes #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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solastia · 6 years

Text

Tuqburni | 2

Pairing: Yoonmin x Reader

Word Count: 6,968

Genre & Warnings: Angst, Fluff, explicit smut. Threesomes.

Notes: Enjoy this smutfest before we delve back into angstville.

Saturdays were usually your favorite. You’d sleep in until noon, wake up and make breakfast, then you and Yoongi would binge-watch Netflix for most of the day. Today, however, was your three-year anniversary, and usually, those involved him taking you out somewhere. Even though he didn’t seem to remember it, you continued your routine in the hopes that maybe he was just being sly and trying to spring something on you.

So despite how tired you were from a night of tossing and turning, you get up to make breakfast. You make the usual heart-shaped pancakes complete with chocolate chips, strawberries, and whipped cream. You make his coffee using the special expensive beans that are only brought out for holidays because you guys had to special order it from some hipster place that grows and roasts them on site in limited batches. You even make his usual bowl of rice on the side, because even though rice isn’t usually paired with pancakes, he’s an old-fashioned soul that “feels weird” if he doesn’t start his day with rice.

You hear the shower start up and assume it’s Jimin since Yoongi likes to have his coffee and breakfast first. You go ahead and start plating now that they were awake.

You’re humming to yourself when Jimin finally wanders into the kitchen, no doubt following the smell, no sign of Yoongi behind him. His puffy and half asleep face was slightly covered by the hoodie he’d put on, and frankly, you’d find him adorable right now if you weren’t so determined to not like him.

“Sit,” you order softly and place a plate in front of him. He quietly thanks you, smiling drowsily before he takes a bite.

“Noona, these are amazing!” Jimin moans with a gravelly voice, thick from sleep.

Ever a sucker for having your cooking complimented, you smile at him genuinely for the first time without thinking. Jimin freezes midbite, staring at your mouth. A strawberry falls off of his fork unheeded. You’re about to ask if you have something stuck in your teeth when Yoongi comes strolling into the kitchen, pecking the both of you on the cheek.

“Good morning, loves.” As you observe him cheerily fixing his coffee, you realize that besides the odd phenomenon of him being fully aware before his caffeine, he’s totally showered and dressed like he’s ready to leave.

“How many pancakes do you want, Yoongi?” You ask, setting his rice and a plate next to Jimin at the table.

“Mmmm, as good as they smell, babe, I have to get going. We have a comeback starting in a couple weeks, and I can’t leave Namjoon alone in the studio.” He chuckles then drains his coffee quickly, leaving the cup in the sink.

“Oh, noona, did you drop this?” Jimin asks, peering at the trashcan. He leans over and grabs the card you’d thrown in there, Yoongi’s name in bright red glitter glue. You always use glitter glue instead of markers. He hated how the glitter got everywhere, and you found it hilarious when he grumbled for days.

You want to be furious at Jimin for not keeping his mouth shut, but you suppose it’s more your fault for waiting until after breakfast to take out the trash. Yoongi’s eyes widen when he spots the shiny red of his name.

“Oh, did you write me a love letter, Princess?” He smirks and grabs the card from Jimin, who is glancing at you curiously, no doubt wondering why you’d suddenly gone tense.

Yoongi opens the card and pulls out the two playoff tickets you’d had to promise so many favors to get. Your friend Baekhyun was as adorable as they come but was really a diabolical mastermind. He’d made you promise to treat him to pizza once a week for a month and petsit his puppy. However, the way he’d worded it made you unsure if he’d really meant his dog or his boyfriend.

“Shit, babe! These were sold out! How did you get these?” Yoongi’s surprised gaze flitters between you and the tickets as you smile at him with smug pride.

“I have my connections.” You say airily as you prepare coffee for yourself.

Yoongi grins at you knowingly. “So, what do you have to do for Baek this time?”

You huff at the loss of your mysterious cover. “Pizza for a month,” you moan dramatically as Yoongi chuckles.

“Shit, babe this is amazing, but these are for today. I really have to finish at work, the last piece is due on Monday. You and Jiminie should go. I’m sad that I’ll miss out, but at least my babies can have a good time, yeah? Love you, gotta go.” Yoongi pecks the both of you on the lips and rushes out, leaving you staring at the tickets he’d left on the counter. He didn’t even seem to wonder why you’d gotten him the tickets.

You sigh wearily and begin cleaning up, not much in the mood to sit down to eat anymore. Besides, you’d had your fair share of stolen strawberries while you’d cooked. It’s silent for a good two minutes until you hear Jimin clear his throat behind you.

“Noona?” His voice is soft and unsure, and it makes you feel terrible. You were generally well known for being a kind person, and the fact that someone was too scared to even talk to you was an uncomfortable experience. Even if a small part of you reveled in the last shred of dominance you had over him.

You turn to Jimin, your eyebrow raised in question. He clears his throat again and squares his shoulders like he’s going into battle.

“I’d love to go with you if you’ll have me. We could make it our first real date because I think you’ll agree that ice cream thing that Yoongi sprung on us doesn’t count. I’ll even take you to dinner. Please?” His eyes are wide and pleading, his generous lips pursed in a slight pout. You wondered if there was a secret school that people like Jimin and Baekhyun attended. Pout perfection 101. It had even you melting momentarily.

“It’s okay, Jimin. You don’t have to pretend to date me. I know what you’re here for.” You mumble, unable to stop yourself from allowing hurt to color your tone.

“No, Noona, it’s...I know we don’t have to date each other too to be in this, but I think it would be good if we at least try? It would certainly make things easier, and it’s not like I don’t find you attractive.” His voice tapered off into an almost whisper towards the end, and you peek over to find him staring at his hands, his cheeks covered in a deep blush.

You were slightly flattered, you couldn’t lie. Someone as ethereal as Jimin saying he found you attractive in any way would flatter anyone.

“Jimin...I don’t know.” You know that what he’s saying makes sense if you want things to work out in the long run, but it seemed too hard. You were still so hurt, and in your head he was still the dastardly villain, twirling his evil mustache.

His head shot up, eyes filled with fierce determination. “Y/N, give me a chance. This is the first time we’ve really been able to talk one on one, something we should have done a long time ago, but still. I know this is all unfair, and that a good chunk of the blame lies on my door. Allow me to make an attempt at making things better for us. You’ve been trying so hard, and you do so much for us. But you’re unhappy, I can see that, and I don’t blame you. Yoongi seems to love you as much as he loves me, and I know it would break him if you became so unhappy you’d leave him. For Min Yoongi to love you so fiercely, you must be amazing, so I’d like the chance to learn for myself. Please? Please give me a chance to make you happy?”

You stare at Jimin in wonder, and for the first time, you see a glimpse of just what would make Yoongi fight to keep him.

“I...” you chew your bottom lip in thought, observing Jimin’s eager expression. Finally, you sigh. “Fine, but you’re buying dessert too.”

Jimin beams, his eye smile endearing. “Great! Let’s get ready, Noona.” He jumps up and places his dishes in the washer before running to the bedroom.

He politely lets you shower first, which is a blessing because you’ve learned since he’d moved in that he takes forever to get ready. While he’s in there taking his turn, you get dressed, throwing on one of your favorite semicasual date outfits. A simple black dress accented by a silver leather jacket and matching pumps, as well as your fishnets. Yoongi loved your fishnets, and you wondered if Jimin would too.

He wanders into the bedroom clad only in his tight boxer briefs as you’re finishing up your hair and makeup, freezing in the door as soon as he sees you.

“Wow, you look incredible.” He says as his eyes travel your body up and down. You’re still a little weirded out by this sudden change, but you can’t help feeling a little smug.

“I know,” you shrug, pretending to be unbothered, and go back to touching up your lashes. Jimin chuckles and grabs his clothes from the closet.

You sneak a small peek, just out of curiosity since you’d never really allowed yourself to look at him in that way before. You had to admit he was built nicely. Surprisingly muscled and sharply toned despite the babyface. And even you had to admit the view you had of his ass as he bent over to pull on the black jeans he’d grabbed was fascinating. You quickly remind yourself that his ass is what your boyfriend has been buried in the past couple of nights, completely ignoring you, and that sobers you back up. You’re not doing this for any personal interest, just to try and be less unhappy. Maybe if Yoongi sees the two of you getting along, he’ll be more inclined to remember you’re a part of this too.

You were so lost in your thoughts you slightly jump when Jimin suddenly speaks behind you. “Well, what do you think?”

You turn from your vanity seat to see him smirking at you, his outfit a mirror to yours. Black shirt, black jeans, and a silver jacket with silver dress shoes.

You can’t stop the giggle that escapes. “Couple outfits, are you serious?”

“Hey, Y/N.” He says softly, his voice somehow still commanding in a way, enough to make you glance at his face in surprise. His expression is completely sober. “I am. Completely serious. I want to do this for real.”

Your cheeks suddenly feel hot as a blush forms against your will. You flap your hands in a way that you hope conveys a lack of care. The fact that your heart fluttered a little was probably just due to lack of attention the past few weeks.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

The courtside seats were excellent; near enough to the players that you even smelled the sweat, and not too crowded. You felt terrible that Yoongi had to miss out because you knew he would have flipped out being this close. Not to mention that the seats were utterly wasted on you, someone who’s only knowledge of the sport came from what Yoongi yelled at the television. You spotted a few idols and actors you were familiar with in the crowd and exchanged friendly waves.

“Noona, did you just wave to Gong Yoo?” Jimin asked in shock, his mouth next to your ear to be heard in the loud stadium.

You smirk and lean in, trying not to focus on the fact that he wrapped his arm around your waist to bring you closer to his ear. “Yeah, he played a musician in his drama last year, and I was the one that worked with him. He still asks me out every time I see him, so don’t be surprised if he comes over here.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and he quickly turns to glare in the man’s direction. You snort and poke his shoulder.

“Stop glaring at Gong Yoo.”

“Nope. Can’t let you become the Goblin’s bride. We all saw how that played out. Yoongi would kill me because you know he’s totally the grim reaper.”

You throw your head back, unable to stop the genuine laughter at the image. Jimin glances back at you, smiling proudly for finally making you laugh. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the appearance of a food vendor. He unwraps his arm from your waist and leans forward to talk to the man. You try not to dwell on the fact that your waist suddenly felt naked without Jimin wrapped around it.

“You want anything, baby?” Jimin asked absentmindedly as he looked over the options. Your silence prompted him to turn around, and he took one glance at your surprised face and hastily apologized as he realized what he’d said.

“I’m sorry, it just...ummm.” Jimin stuttered, his cheeks blazing.

“It’s...uh, it’s okay. No biggie. I’ll take a hot dog, no onions, and a beer. Please.” You shyly answer. Jimin nods and quickly turns back to the vendor, no doubt hoping for the moment to be forgotten.

The two of you dug into your food as you pretended to watch the game. Honestly, it was more exciting to watch live, but you still didn’t know enough to really follow. And it quickly became apparent after Jimin starting rooting for “guy with the green hair” that was on the opposing team that he didn’t know anything either.

“I’m beginning to suspect that these tickets were as big a waste on you as they were on me. You don’t know anything about basketball, do you?” You snicker at Jimin’s overly dramatic sigh.

“Only a little that I picked up from Yoongi. Otherwise, it just looks like a very complicated game of monkey in the middle. At least they all look very nice doing it.”

“True,” you agree, as a passing player winks at the both of you.

Suddenly the crowd around you is yelling and shaking your shoulder, pointing up to the ceiling. You look up to find a nightmare. You’d forgotten about this horrifying tradition at sports games.

You and Jimin were on kiss cam.

You inhale a shuddering breath and glance up at Jimin, who is already staring down at you, his gaze dark and terrifyingly determined. As usual, your mind had to go into overdrive, questioning everything. Was he determined because he really wanted this, or was that more of a preparing himself for something unpleasant kind of determination?

A hand gently cupped your jaw, and suddenly Jimin was coming closer until his lips were on yours. You were surprised to find you didn’t hate it. His plush lips were so soft and gentle as he tentatively coaxed you to respond. He began to pull back, but you mindlessly followed and finally kissed him back, marveling at how your lips slotted together perfectly. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping gently and grinning against your lips when you gasped. He quietly moaned against you, his heavy breathing as you finally moved apart awakening something in you. You stare at his lips that are wet and pinkened because of you, and you’re so confused as to why that makes you feel proud.

Suddenly, you become aware of the roars of approval and remember where you’re at. The two of you soon sport matching blushes and Jimin grins at you sheepishly. As soon as the camera moves away and the people behind you stop poking your shoulders, Jimin leans over.

“Wanna head out?”

“Oh, God, please.” You plead, making Jimin laugh as he helps you up and escorts you out to the car.

Once you’re on the road, he turns to you. “Still up for dinner?”

“Yeah, I could eat. All I really had today was the hot dog.”

“Can’t let my Noona starve! I know just the place.”

Twenty minutes later he’s leading you into a tiny restaurant, following after a sweet old woman who greets Jimin like he’s her grandchild. After you tell him you don’t have any preferences, he places two orders of “his regular,” which turns out to be Kimchi Jjigae with pork belly and a plate of mandu. You take a bite and glance at him in surprise.

“This is really good. Most places don’t make it sour enough for me, but this is perfect.” You explain, humming around your spoon.

He grins, pushing some side dishes closer to you. “Yeah, she’s great. She learned a long time ago that I’m not into seafood, so she makes it with rice stock instead of anchovies. Same with the side dishes, all fish free.”

“Aren’t you from Busan?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He sighs theatrically, still smiling. “Yes, I’m a man from Busan that’s not into seafood. I’m a disgrace to my city. Please stone me and have me exiled.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go that far. Most you’ll get from me is a good shaking of my head in your direction. I’ve been with Yoongi too long. I’m much too lazy for a stoning,” you giggle.

The rest of the dinner goes by smoothly, both of you too preoccupied with eating to make too much conversation, but when a topic arises, it’s not difficult. Jimin’s surprisingly easy to talk to, not to mention polite and kind. You’d never really noticed before since you’d been looking at him through a haze of bitterness and jealousy. Not that it had all magically went away. You’d just packed it into the back of your mind. Might as well enjoy your anniversary.

Soon enough the two of you find yourselves walking along the street eating the crepes filled with ice cream he’d insisted on getting, despite your stomach near to bursting. You’re staring into the shop windows as you pass along, humming to yourself as you enjoy your treat when Jimin suddenly grasps your left hand and laces your fingers together. You glance up at him in shock before looking down at your combined hands.

Jimin clears his throat and peeks at you with a little embarrassed smile, squeezing your hand lightly in a comforting way.

“Soooo....” you mumble, trying to cut the tension a little. “Did you always want to be a dancer?”

“Oh, well. Secretly, yeah. But for a long time, I planned to become a police officer because I figured that was more realistic.”

“You should have just become a stripper then. You could be a dancer and an officer whenever you wanted.” You chuckle mischievously.

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, grinning down at you in amusement. “Oh Noona, already thinking about lap dances? Feisty.”

You choke on your own saliva, squeaking with indignation as Jimin laughs.

“Shut up.” You groan. Jimin smiles at you happily and swings your arms back and forth as the two of you walked back to the car.

“This was nice, Y/N. I’m glad this went so well. I'm serious when I say I want this to work. I know we didn’t start off well, but I’m hoping this is a sign we’ll be okay.”

You sigh and buckle in, taking in Jimin’s seemingly genuine desire to include you. “I hope so too. I mean, everything is not going to be perfect all because of one night, Jimin. I’m still hurt, and yes, I’ll admit it, jealous and bitter. What we have going on here is weird, and I don’t even feel welcome in my own home half the time. However, you seem like you really are serious about making it work. I have just been so focused on making sure that Yoongi was happy that I forgot we’re supposed to be happy too. I promise to try harder.”

“Let’s go home, Noona.” Jimin reaches over and grabs your hand, leaving a gentle kiss on the back of it. He grins cheekily then starts the car, humming as he drives home.

You decide to take the time to check your phone. You power it up since you’d both shut your phones off during the basketball game and you’d just forgotten to turn it back on. You had ten missed calls and fifteen messages, all from Yoongi.

“Shit, is your phone on?” You ask Jimin as you scroll through the messages, most of them just asking where you were and to text or call him back asap.

“No. I left mine off too.” He hands his phone to you to turn on while he drives, and sure enough, he has an almost equal amount of messages.

You quickly call Yoongi, who answers after one ring.

“Finally. Where are you guys?”

“We went to have dinner after the game, then walked around a little bit while we had dessert. Why? What’s up?”

Jimin glances at you, worry evident in his eyes, and you shrug.

“Just...get home soon. I’m so sorry, Princess. So sorry, I love you. Hurry home.”

The call abruptly ends, and you hold your phone before your face in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asks, and you shrug.

“Not sure. He said sorry and to hurry home. Maybe he remembered...” you mumble, and Jimin peers at you in confusion.

“Remembered?”

“It’s, ah, nothing. I guess we’ll see what’s up. Onward, Officer Park.”

“You’re going to hold that over me forever, aren’t you.” He snorts.

You smile innocently. “Of course not. Only until I lose my memory someday.”

“Yoongi? We’re home,” you call out as the two of you enter the house. You kick off your heels, looking up with a small smile as Yoongi exits the bedroom.

He looks angry, and for a moment you’re terrified that perhaps he saw the kiss cam and was mad about you kissing Jimin. After all, you’d never discussed actual dynamics. Maybe Yoongi didn’t want the two of you to interact like that.

He rushes towards you, and before you can think of an excuse, he drops to his knees and buries his face in your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to bring you closer.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he mumbles into your shirt.

You reach down and card your fingers through his hair, crooning. “It’s okay, baby. It’s no big deal. I’m fine.” Of course, you knew you were lying, but you hated seeing Yoongi like this.

“I didn’t even make the connection, my mind was so wrapped up in work. The pancakes, the tickets. God, I’m an asshole. I didn’t even remember until Jin brought Namjoon lunch and screamed in my face for being at work today.”

“What am I missing?” Jimin asked, prompting Yoongi to finally look up. Your heart clenches when you notice he was starting to tear up a little.

“Jiminie, thank you for taking care of her today. I forgot today was our three year anniversary, but at least she had you.”

“Anniversary? Noona, why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin’s jaw drops, and he turns to you dumbfounded. You just shrug and keep petting through Yoongi’s hair.

“Because she never complains. She never fucking complains. I used to love it, but then she lets me get away with doing shit like this and I hate it. Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I love you so much.” Yoongi finally stands up and pulls you in by the back of your neck, kissing you harshly with slightly chapped lips. He pulls away and presses your foreheads together.

“I got you a gift though. I didn’t forget entirely. I got it a few weeks ago. Hold on.” Yoongi suddenly rushes towards the fancy sound system he had set up for the entertainment center. He pulls the front off of one of the speakers and pulls out a velvet box, approximately the size of a tablet.

“You sneaky son of a bitch.” You exclaim with a pout, seeing his new hiding spot.

Yoongi chuckles as he walks back to you. “I had to get creative after you found my present stash in the hall closet.”

He holds the box up in front of you and slowly opens it. “You know how much I like you in red. I saw these and couldn’t stop picturing you wearing nothing but them,” he explains with a slowly deepening voice.

When the box is opened, you inhale shakily, shocked by the glittering red contents. It’s an entire set of ruby jewelry. There is a ring and a bracelet, what appeared to be a thick ruby collar, and right in the middle of all of them was a ruby tiara.

“A tiara, Yoongi, really? Why do I need a tiara?” You giggle, still peering at the contents in awe.

He hums and kisses your cheek, pleased by your reaction. “Because you’re my Princess. Do you like them?”

“They are stunning. Yoongi, this is too much.”

“Nothing is too much. You deserve everything, and I’m sorry that I’m lacking.” Yoongi mumbles. You stroke his cheek lightly, letting him know without words that you loved him.

“Okay, now put them on me!” You laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

Yoongi’s eyes darken as he smirks at you. “Not yet. I told you I pictured you wearing nothing but them, didn’t I?”

You peek at Jimin, a little embarrassed that Yoongi was talking like that in front of him. Yoongi notices and turns to Jimin.

“What do you think, Jimin? Don’t you think your Noona would look stunning in these?”

Jimin licks his lips and catches your eyes, his own slightly dilated as he stares at you hungrily.

“Yes. She would look incredible.”

You gulp nervously as Yoongi sets the box down and grabs the jacket your wearing, lifting his eyebrows in a silent plea for permission. You take one last look at Jimin, and not seeing any signs of discomfort, you quickly nod. Yoongi sighs and slides your jacket off, throwing it across the recliner behind him, before moving behind you and grabbing the zipper in the back of the dress.

“Jiminie hasn’t gotten to see you yet, has he? He’s in for a treat.” Yoongi chuckles darkly and presses a kiss to the back of your neck as he begins to pull the zipper down slowly. The sound is abnormally loud and echoing in your ears.

Jimin still hasn’t looked away from you. He’s just staring right into your eyes like he’s daring you to look elsewhere. It isn't until Yoongi begins sliding the dress off of your shoulders that his gaze finally lowers. As the black lace bra is finally revealed, Jimin visibly swallows hard and licks his lips. His gaze follows the path of the rest of the dress as Yoongi purposely lowers it slowly until it hits your ankles and you kick it away, allowing Jimin to feast on the view in front of him.

“Can he help with the rest, sweetheart?” Yoongi asks as he rests his long fingers along the side of your stomach and holds you close. You can feel his bulge digging into your back, and it takes you a few moments to remember he’d asked you something.

“Yes...please,” and suddenly it was like he’d just been waiting for you to say something because Jimin rushed forward and buried his nose in your neck, inhaling and pressing a soft kiss there.

Jimin’s fingers trailed down from your collarbone to either side of your breasts, teasing with light brushes before cupping them both. He lifts his head and watches you as he moves his thumbs over to brush against your nipples.

“Is this okay, Noona?” He asks softly, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it before and looking at you like you were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Either he was the world’s greatest actor, or he was being genuine, which was just as confusing. He was only here for Yoongi, right?

“It’s okay. You can...take it off.” You mumble shyly.

Yoongi unsnaps your bra from behind. “Still good, baby?” He asks lowly in your ear. You nod and crane your neck around to peck his lips quickly before turning back to Jimin.

He bites his lip and hooks his fingers under each bra strap, sliding them down slowly. As your breasts are revealed, he throws the bra behind him and stares down at you in awe, reaching out to cup them like before.

“So perfect,” he groans, pinching your nipples slightly. You gasp in surprise but lean into the touch.

Yoongi chuckles from behind you. “I guess you can tell Jiminie is a boob guy.”

Jimin smirks then trails his fingers down until they rest near Yoongi’s that were still lodged against your hips. He tugs lightly against the top of your panties, peering at you in silent query. You take a deep breath, suddenly really nervous because holy shit you were about to be naked in front of Park Jimin, but you nod to give him the go ahead.

He suddenly drops to his knees and begins pulling the panties down slowly, groaning as you’re revealed to him.

“Fuck, Noona, you are so wet already. Your panties are soaked. How are you so wet?” He holds up the panties in question, causing you to blush profusely. Yoongi groans at the sight, leaning in to nibble on your neck.

“I think we’ve been neglecting her, haven’t we? Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. You have two cocks at your disposal, baby. Nothing but the best for the Princess.” Yoongi growls against your neck. “How’s the view, Jimin?”

“She’s perfect, hyung. So pretty. Even her pussy is pretty,” Jimin responds as he strokes your thighs, staring at the dripping sight in front of him.

Yoongi smirks and releases you, reaching over to get the box of jewelry. You give a startled squeak when a wet tongue suddenly slides up your pussy. You look down to see Jimin grinning at you with wet lips. Yoongi peeks over your shoulder and laughs.

“Yah, you brat. Are you sneaking a taste?”

Jimin whines dramatically, still smiling. “I couldn’t help it. She’s dripping down her thighs, and she smells so good.”

“Sounds like she’s going to need to be serviced soon. Strip while I get her ready.” Yoongi orders as he clasps the ruby bracelet around your left wrist.

You take a moment to admire it on you before you notice the shuffling in front of you. Jimin is taking off his clothes speedily, throwing them everywhere until you were faced with the view that you had earlier today. He stood there with his sculpted body, his hands holding the tops of his boxers as he waited for the go-ahead from you, like you would actually turn him down at this point. You scoff quietly but nod, following the path of the boxers down his body.

It was strange seeing another dick in front of you after only being with Yoongi for three whole years. He was thicker than Yoongi but not as long. It was a pretty pink and clear of all the veins that stuck out on Yoongi’s. You were suddenly struck with the desire to see what he tasted like and unconsciously licked your lips. His dick twitched like it heard your thoughts and he stalked back to stand in front of you.

Jimin helps Yoongi put the rest of the jewelry on you, wrapping the ruby collar tightly against your neck and placing the ring on your right hand. Yoongi comes around to face you with the Tiara, grinning naughtily as he places it snugly into your hair.

“Damn, Jimin, have you ever seen a more beautiful woman?” Yoongi asks as he observes you.

“No. She’s stunning. The perfect Princess.”

You can’t stop blushing, never having received this much attention in your entire life, but you can’t say you don’t like it. In fact, you probably loved it a little too much. You were supposed to hate Jimin, he was your rival, but all you wanted right now was to know how he felt buried deep inside of you.

“Jimin, since you were so desperate to get a taste of her, why don’t you eat her out while I undress, make sure she’s nice and ready for us.”

Jimin led you to the couch and sat down, positioning you so that you were standing on the cushions with one leg on either side of him and leaning over to grasp the back of the couch. You blush and glance down at his head between your legs. He winks at you cheekily before sticking out his tongue to lick your clit. You groan and buck your hips into his face. He grabs your ass to pull you closer, the lewd slurping noises as he basically feasted on you filling the living room. You reach down and slide your hands into his hair as he works, your cries increasing in volume. His plush lips felt so incredible, like they were made for pleasure.

“Fuck...” Startled, you glance behind you, surprised to find you’d actually forgotten Yoongi was there. He was staring at the sight of Jimin underneath you, his lips working against you as saliva and your juices dripped down his chin.

Yoongi has his long fingers wrapped around his cock as he watched, tugging lazily. You whine, desperate for him, and he smiles as he comes up behind you and kisses the dip at the base of your spine.

“Are you ready to sit on your throne, Princess? Wanna try out Jimin’s?”

You pull your hips away slightly to glance down at Jimin, suddenly unsure. Did he even want to go that far? You were in such a pleasure induced haze, you’d probably agree to anything right now, but that didn’t mean he had to.

You guessed he sensed your hesitation because he suddenly smiled shyly, his drenched face contrasting perversely.

“Please, Noona? I’ll make you feel so good,” he asked quietly, pressing a light kiss against your thigh.

You chew your lip in thought, assessing his face for the truth. He seems to really want this, amazingly enough, so you nod and let him ease you down. Yoongi reaches between you and grasps Jimin’s cock, leaning near your ear one last time.

“Still all good?” He murmurs and kisses your neck when you nod.

He lines Jimin up with you and Jimin’s hands on your hips slowly ease you down. The slight stretch as your body adjusts to the new thickness isn’t bad, and you practically slide right down you’re so wet.

Jimin gasps and bangs his against the back of the couch. Yoongi looks up from your neck, releasing the bit of skin he’d been sucking on to laugh.

“She feels fucking amazing, doesn’t she?”

Jimin nods but keeps his eyes clamped shut. “So fucking tight and warm. I’m not going to last long,” he whimpers, his fingers clenching hard against your hip.

“Give him a good ride, baby,” Yoongi whispers into your ear before sitting in the recliner next to the two of you and grasping his cock in his hands.

The desire to just watch Yoongi was strong, but the twitching cock inside of you reminded you of your task. You peek at Jimin, surprised to find him watching you. He suddenly lifts you up before slamming you back down, the both of you moaning at the intense sensation. You adjust yourself so that your hands are on his shoulders and dig in your knees, and ride him hard, giving him your all. A tiny part of you insists it’s to show Jimin that Yoongi lacked nothing while he was gone. The other thought that you’re not quite ready to explore says that you are just enjoying how pretty Jimin is when he’s falling apart under you.

And pretty he is. His lips are parted with little whimpers and groans escaping, his heavy-lidded eyes pleading with you to look at him. You stare into his pleasure filled gaze as the room is filled with skin slapping against wet skin, cries from the two of you, and the occasional grunt from Yoongi.

It doesn’t take long before you feel his grip on your hips tighten painfully.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Noona!” Jimin groans and tries to lift you off of him, but you smack his hand away and slam down hard, rolling your hips slowly as he cums inside of you with a stuttered moan. He stares at you as he comes down, breathing heavily and petting every part of your skin he could touch.

“Is the Princess ready for me now?” A voice growls against your ear.

“Yes, Yoongi, please.” You plead as he helps lift you up so that Jimin could slide out of you.

You try to back off from Jimin a little bit, so you don’t smother him, but he just pulls you closer, kissing you softly before tucking your head into the crook of his neck. This angled you towards Yoongi, so he entered you effortlessly, the remains of Jimin’s release easing the way.

“Shit, this is so dirty. You like this, baby? You like me fucking Jimin’s cum out of you? I’m going to fill you back up when I’m done. Can’t let my Princess be empty.” Yoongi grunts as he slams his hips into you, already overly excited from watching.

You moan into Jimin’s neck as he wraps his arms around you, petting your sides and whispering things into your ear that you were too far gone to make out. Jimin slides one of his hands down to rub your swollen clit.

“Oh, God, I’m going to cum! Jiminnnnn....”you whine, nipping his neck as your orgasm rips through you.

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to follow, pounding into you fast as he fills you up with one long groan. He leans into you and kisses the back of your neck as he catches his breath, then pulls out slowly. It’s completely silent for a minute, so you glance behind you to find him staring down at the mess between your legs.

“Stop looking at me.” You whine, shoving your head back into Jimin’s neck in embarrassment. They both chuckle as Yoongi helps you up.

“Can’t help it if my Princess is prettiest when she’s messy,” Yoongi smirks and taps your butt on the way to the bathroom.

Yoongi props you on the bathroom counter and runs a warm rag across you and helps you take off the jewelry. Jimin was apparently in the kitchen getting water for all of you.

“Was that really all okay? I know we didn’t talk about it, but I thought it was amazing.” Yoongi asked softly, peering at you with a hint of vulnerability and worry.

“Yeah...it was good. New, kinda strange, feel like a porn star, but nice. I felt like I was wanted.”

Yoongi suddenly appears horrified. “Baby, did you not feel wanted before?”

“Um, not for awhile, no.” You whisper, staring down at your hands.

Yoongi sighs and leans his head into your lap. “You are wanted. God, you are so wanted. I’m sorry I’m such a bastard. We’ll talk, properly this time. Okay? We’ll all sit down and figure things out better. I’m not good with actually talking about shit, I know, but I can’t have you going around thinking that you’re not wanted.”

“Okay. It’s okay. This was good though, alright? I enjoyed it.” You quickly reassure him, not wanting to end the night on a sad note after everything that happened. He nods and kisses your thigh.

Jimin brings water for everyone, and you all finish your bottles before climbing into bed, everyone content and sated for the first time. You smile happily as Yoongi cuddles you close to him, and Jimin sweetly tells you goodnight. Maybe it was okay to have a little hope that everything would soon work out, because this day wasn’t bad at all.

Little did you know this was merely the calm before the storm.

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