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stardewlily · 25 days

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My Everlasting Light AU

A Stardew Valley fan fiction about the relationship between Sebastian and my farmer, Lily. What might have happened if they had met as children all those years ago on the farm? A modern day fairy tale complete with junimos and wizard magic!

Notes: This is the origin of the title of my longfic, an old tale I've recently felt compelled to rework. It's a lengthy story (approx. 8000 words) so please bear that in mind when reading

Synopsis: Two troubled children form a bond that is quickly put to the test by fate, family and the magic of the valley

Cast: Original Female Character, Sebastian, Demetrius, Robin, Maru, Other Original Characters (grandparents/parents)

Contents: Established Relationship (married), Childhood Friendship, Innocent Love, Bonding, Family Dynamics, Drama, Trauma, Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Warnings: Small mentions of childhood abuse

Tags: @kissingtruth It's not cherry blossoms in Pierre's store but I hope you find something to like in here...

A Dream I Once Had

"Be careful you don't trip," Lily said as she followed Sebastian down into the farm's basement. She flicked the light switch at the top of the stairs but the bulb was so dim it barely made any difference and she let out a little huff of self-recrimination. She had always meant to do something with this place but had been so busy with the farm ever since she moved here that the cellar had seemed less important.

"It's okay," Sebastian laughed as he made his way down with the first of the boxes they were putting into storage. "You know I'm used to stairs like this, I spent most of my adult life till now in a basement, remember?"

Lily watched him fondly as he tucked the boxes away on the many shelves that lined the walls and turned to take the ones she was carrying.

"You shouldn't have brought so many on your own, sweetheart," he chided her gently. "You have me to do all the heavy lifting!"

"I know, Sebby, I'm sorry!" She smiled, wondering if she would ever get used to the fact that he was her husband now. They had only been married for one week and she still felt happiness bubbling inside her every time she woke up and saw his sweet face sleeping next to hers. She gazed giddily into his eyes as he took the boxes from her, then let out a little gasp of surprise as one fell from the stack and hit the floor with a thud.

"Oops," Sebastian quickly knelt down to rescue the spilled contents. "Hope there was nothing breakable in here!"

Lily joined him on the floor, determined to bring her hoover on their very next visit. The amount of dust! Dear Yoba! They probably should have cleaned before they decided to move stuff down here but they were trying to make more room for Sebastian's belongings and hadn't planned much further ahead than that.

"I think it's just some things from when I was a kid," she said, picking up a few items. She laughed under her breath when she opened the folding picture frame in her hand and saw the two images inside. "Look…" she tilted it towards Sebastian. "It's me when I was little."

Sebastian cupped her hand and gazed at the photos. In one, a tiny, nervous looking girl with a mass of dishevelled auburn hair peeked out from behind a broadly smiling white-haired man and woman, and in the other the same girl could be seen with her arms around the neck of a grinning border collie, face so buried in the dog's fur it could hardly be seen.

"You look just like me when I was a kid," Sebastian chuckled. "I hated having my photo taken too." He stared thoughtfully at the pictures. "Are they your grandparents? It's weird, I never really met them even though they lived in the same town. "

"It's not surprising," Lily said wistfully. "My gran died a long time ago and I think grandpa kept to himself more after that." She touched the photo gently. "I know it doesn't look like it but I was actually happy here on the farm with them, the memories I have from that time are pretty much the only good ones I have of my childhood." She sighed. "When I was five, my dad had a feud with them and moved us away. I never saw them again after that."

"Don't worry, love," Sebastian said softly. "We're gonna make plenty more happy memories together, just you and me."

Lily smiled gratefully up at him then looked away and sighed again.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, Sebby, I really don't…" she sounded anxious, frustrated. "For some reason I feel like there's something I should remember, something about when I was little."

She returned her gaze to the ground and he saw her twitch as her eyes fell on something else that had fallen from the box.

"Oh!" She reached out and picked it up, cradling it carefully in her hands. "It's this! I'd totally forgotten I even had it! And it's so pretty too…"

He looked at what she was holding. It was a pine cone, but not just any pine cone, this one had, against all odds, opened in such a way that it almost perfectly resembled a tiny flower.

"Woah!" he exclaimed. "It looks just like a rose! Who would have thought that a pine cone could look like this?"

"I know…" her voice was dreamy, distant. "I remember this now… I used to always keep it with me when I was small even though I could never remember where I got it from..."

Sebastian felt a twitch run through his own body at her words, like a dormant memory was stirring in him too. "You know what?" he said, "I think I have something similar. Hang on a minute!"

He hurried to the boxes he'd placed on the shelves a short time ago, feeling all of a sudden like he was on a burning mission to find something vitally important. Heart pounding, he finally found the right box and lifted the lid, rooting inside until his fingers closed on the item he suddenly remembered with startling clarity.

Eyes wide, he turned to Lily, hand outstretched, and in his palm sat a stone shaped in such a way that someone with a good imagination could have decided it looked exactly like a little frog.

"Oh Seb!" Lily looked from her pine rose to his stone frog, saw the expression on her husband's face and knew that he remembered too…

Demetrius rapped impatiently on the door of the farmhouse. Where on earth was this Mrs Donnelly Mayor Lewis had told him about? He needed someone to take care of Sebastian as soon as possible. The damn boy was just too much for his wife to cope with right now.

His stepson, as though feeling his animosity, squirmed in his grasp and Demetrius frowned and tightened his hold on the boy at the same time as he raised his hand to knock at the door again. Before he could, however, it opened before his glowering gaze and a tiny, white-haired woman with wide hazel eyes stared out at him, a sweet smile on her good-natured face.

"So sorry to keep you waiting," she beamed up at him, wiping her hands on her apron. "I was busy making pastry and had to wash my hands. What can I do for you?"

"Rose Donnelly?" Demetrius snapped, never a man to bother with social niceties, even when he was asking for a favour, which he was about to.

"I am indeed," the woman nodded and smiled some more, noticed the sullen boy at his side and directed an even warmer smile his way. "And who might you two be?"

"I'm Demetrius Dawson, this is my stepson, Sebastian."

"Oh, you're the new people who moved into that house up in the mountains! I'm so pleased to meet you! Clifford and I meant to come up and greet you this weekend, that's one of the reasons I've been baking and…"

"Yes, yes," Demetrius interrupted. "That would be lovely but I'm in a hurry right now. I really came here to ask if you could babysit Sebastian for the next few weeks, my wife is trying to cope with our ill daughter, Maru, and I'm afraid Sebastian here is being rather troublesome and demanding. Mayor Lewis said that you enjoy looking after children and I am willing to pay you for your time."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Rose held out a hand to Sebastian, who seemed completely flummoxed by her kindness and turned his gaze resolutely to the floor. "It can be hard when your sibling's ill, can't it, sweetheart?" She looked up at Demetrius again. "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him for you. You just come back for him when you're ready."

"You're sure? He can be rather an awkward child. Very moody and…"

And now Rose interrupted him, a little frown finally finding its way onto her face. "No need to worry, Mr Dawson, he'll be just fine with me, I assure you."

"Very well then, I'll leave him in your care." Demetrius looked down at Sebastian, who kept his gaze firmly on the ground. "Behave yourself, young man. If I hear you've given Mrs Donnelly any trouble…"

"As I said, Mr Dawson, he'll be fine. Please go on back to your wife!" Rose took hold of Sebastian's hand and shooed his stepfather away as though he were the awkward child.

Demetrius gave her a look that could've sliced glass then turned abruptly on his heel.

"I'll be back for him this evening."

"Goodbye," Rose called after him, smiling wryly to herself at the almost uncontrollable urge to add a 'Good Riddance!' to that.

When he'd gone, she looked down at the child standing so quietly at her side. He was a beautiful boy, maybe six or seven years old, with jet black hair, pale skin and large, dark grey eyes that seemed far too full of sadness for someone so young.

"Now then, Sebastian," she looked down at him and he looked back up at her unblinkingly. "How would you like to come help me make an apple pie? My poor apples are going to be burning in the pan thanks to your mean old stepdad! How about you save them for me by stirring them while I finish my pastry? I could do with a good little helper like you!"

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at her mention of his mean stepdad and she laughed as she guided him into the kitchen, set him on a stool and gave him a spoon to stir apples that were actually perfectly fine and not even cooking anymore, not that he needed to know that!

She looked over at him as he studiously stirred the apples for her. He was so like her Lily in manner that it was uncanny.

"How would you like to play with my granddaughter when she gets back from whatever she's up to?"

He looked over at her curiously and she smiled at how silent he was. She was used to this kind of thing.

"I think you might like her. She's a lot like you."

His face twitched ever so slightly.

Rose chuckled to herself. To think there were two of them like this. It was almost as though they'd been made for each other!

She looked up at the clock. Nearly dinnertime.

If anything brought Lily home it was usually hunger.

Lily paused outside the farmhouse door and hugged the happily panting dog next to her for reassurance. She was really hungry after a full day playing on the farm but she had a terrible feeling that her nana was not going to be very happy when she saw the state she was in. She tried vainly to rub some of the mud off her skirt and frowned when she saw that she had not only made it worse, but now had mud all over her hands too.

"Um… Laddie?" she looked worriedly at her grandpa's old collie. "Do you think she's gonna be mad at me?"

Laddie tipped his head to one side and let out a small bark. Lily's frown deepened as she noticed that Laddie was just as dirty as she was. She looked up at the door with a calculating gaze. Maybe if she snuck in unnoticed…

It was worth a try. She fastened her hand around the handle, gently eased the door open and managed to tiptoe precisely one step before she heard her nana's voice raised in dismay.

"Lily! Oh my Yoba! What on earth have you been up to, you naughty girl?"

Sebastian looked up from his current task of helping lay the table to see Mrs Donnelly rushing across the room towards what he could only assume was some kind of forest spirit. A tiny creature covered in mud, sticks and leaves with a mass of auburn hair flying every which way immediately turned and tried to flee back out of the door through which it had just come.

"Oh for heaven's sake! And Laddie too!"

A border collie that had at one point in its life been black and white bounced madly around the escaping forest creature and Sebastian gaped in disbelief as the tiny old woman who had been so nice to him somehow managed to snatch up both dog and creature, stowing one firmly under each arm.

"You two are coming straight to the bathroom with me! If Grandpa catches you both in this state there'll be trouble!"

The tiny creature wriggled frantically in her grasp as she turned and headed for a nearby door.

"Sebastian," she looked over at him with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about this naughty granddaughter of mine!" She tightened her grip on the squirming bundle which immediately ceased its movement on catching sight of him. "I have to go give her a bath right now, why don't you go into the living room and look in our bookshelves? I'm sure you'll find something there you'll like while I deal with this."

Sebastian gaped in even more disbelief at the now quiescent creature.

This was Mrs Donnelly's granddaughter?

He'd never seen anything like her in all his life!

"You're coming with me, young lady!"

Two wild, bright eyes peered unwaveringly at him from beneath the mass of hair as he watched them disappear through the doorway. He stood very still for a moment, wondering what on earth had just happened, then shook his head and made his way through into the living room. Books always made him feel safe and he needed that more than ever these days.

Sebastian couldn't help but stare at all the food on the table. This was more than he'd seen in ages. His mom hardly ever cooked these days, she was so worn out from looking after his sickly sister all the time.

"Now don't hold back, you help yourself, lad!" boomed the grizzled old farmer who had appeared on the exact chime of six o'clock for his meal. "There's plenty to go around and a boy needs to grow up big and strong in order to work hard!"

Mrs Donnelly smiled indulgently at her husband as the small boy shrank back in his seat. "Now then, Clifford," she said, "there's no need to shout, you're scaring him." She gently took Sebastian's plate and started to fill it with food.

"I'm not shouting!" the old man boomed even louder and began to pile his plate high. "Just offering the young 'un some good advice, that's all!" He looked around the table, noticing the empty chair at one side. "Where's that granddaughter of mine? Doesn't she want her dinner?" His plate of food was now teetering dangerously.

"She does, dear. I think she's just a little shy." She laid Sebastian's plate in front of him and nodded towards the door. Sebastian looked in the direction she indicated to see two faces peeking around the corner of the doorframe. One belonged to a cheerily grinning collie dog and the other…

He blinked… who was that?

Long, wavy auburn hair surrounded a tiny face with big hazel eyes and a pink, rosebud mouth. As soon as it saw him looking its way it immediately disappeared back around the corner, pulling the dog along with it.

"Lily?"

Sebastian's eyes popped. He quickly tried to recover himself, forcing his face to blankness again.

That was Lily? The weird forest creature he'd seen earlier?

The old man looked over at the doorway and clucked his tongue impatiently. "Lily! For goodness' sake girl, what are you doing out there? Come on in here right now!"

The face did not reappear.

Mrs Donnelly's forehead creased in consternation. "Now Clifford, don't be like that. You know how she is. I'll take some food out to her."

Clifford frowned impressively. "You'll do no such thing, Rose! She needs to start acting her age for once!" He turned towards the empty doorway, fixing it with a fierce glare. "Did you hear me, Lily? No food for you till you come in here."

A tiny little scrap of a face inched around the doorway again, a more daring doggy head panting beneath it.

"That goes for Laddie, too! No food for him either unless you come to the table! You don't want to see poor old Laddie go hungry, now do you?"

The little scrap looked sadly down at the dog which lifted its head to lick the scrap's face.

"Oh Clifford, leave the poor little mite alone, just let me take her some food later."

"Ah... Rose, she has to learn. It's for her own good!"

Sebastian watched as both faces retracted again. He felt a core of anger growing in him at the man's words. How often had he heard that same thing directed at him? For your own good! According to Demetrius, him learning to be less reliant on his mother was for his own good too. So often it seemed to him that adults said that when what they really meant was that it was good for them!

He let out a little growl under his breath and then, before he even realised what he was doing, climbed to his feet, picking up his plate from the table as he did so. His gaze fell on a bowl on the floor full of biscuits and dogfood with the name 'Laddie' painted on it in bright red ink. He picked that up as well and walked slowly over to the doorway, setting both plate and bowl carefully down before pushing them gently through to the other side. He heard a small gasp and then the cutest little pixie in existence darted into view, snatched up his offerings, dazzled him with the brightest smile he'd ever seen and ran off leaving him totally and completely stunned in its wake.

Rose relaxed gratefully in her porch rocking chair. It had been a long, tiring day and the tiny form of her granddaughter was a warm and comforting presence in her lap. Never one for the spontaneous hugs and affection of her other grandchildren there was nonetheless something about the motion of this chair that seemed to soothe her and the usually reserved little girl would happily spend all night curled up quietly until sleep claimed her.

Rose treasured these moments more than any other.

"Nana?"

She looked down, surprised to hear her speak.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"That boy that came today…"

"Sebastian? What about him, love?"

"I like him."

"That's good, Lily. Then be kind to him, because he's just like you."

"Like me?"

Wide eyes peered curiously up at her.

"Yes," Rose smiled sadly, remembering the off-handed scolding the boy's stepfather had meted out on collecting him. A scene she was all too familiar with for other reasons. Not for the first time in her life did she wonder how anyone could be so casually cruel to something so small and innocent. "He's missing the love of his mommy and daddy too."

She sighed and lifted her gaze to the stars, so lost in her adult thoughts that she didn't notice the expression of hope and wonder that crossed her granddaughter's face.

Sebastian sat in the orchard pushing along the big wooden train from the set that Mrs Donnelly had given him. It was a clunky, old fashioned thing, probably from the woman's own childhood, but he found it strangely soothing to play with. He tried to focus all his attention on it, tried not to think about the fact this his mother seemed to care only for his sister Maru now.

Only for his sister and not for him.

He felt something treacherously close to tears well in his eyes and scrubbed angrily at them.

Boys weren't supposed to cry, after all.

He heard a sound to his left and turned to see Mrs Donnelly's granddaughter, Lily, standing nearby, staring at him shyly, one foot twisting nervously on the ground behind her. She was wearing a pinafore dress and blouse, both of which were clean for the moment, her hair was a wild array of waves around her face and her seemingly permanent companion, the old farm dog, Laddie, was panting good-naturedly at her heels.

He gaped at her, feeling awkward as he always did around other children, wishing desperately he knew what to say or how to act.

For a long moment they just stared at each another then she gave a little jump, as though suddenly remembering something, and held out her hand to him.

"I want you to have this," she said, her voice, the first time he'd heard it, high, sweet and light. "Because you look sad and I want you to be happy."

He looked at her open palm. In it lay a funny shaped stone that looked just like…

"A frog!" he exclaimed. Where had she found such a treasure? And why was she was giving it to him?

"I knew you'd see it too! Doesn't it look just like one?"

He took it from her, turning it over in his hands in wonder. "It does," he looked up at her. "Are you really sure this is for me?"

She looked at him, eyes sparkling. "Of course it is! Do you like it?"

"Yes," he said quietly, wondering why those earlier tears felt like they were returning. "I like it."

"Oh yay!" Lily clapped her hands together. "I'm so happy! Let's play, but not here! We'll go play in Grandpa's flower garden, it's so pretty! He may be scary sometimes but he has the greenest thumbs ever, there's nothing he can't grow! Oh, and then we could go play with the bunnies, Grandpa says he keeps them for their fur but I know that's a fib because he's not an animal farmer anymore, he keeps them for me to play with when I visit!" She tried and failed to wink at him, then started bouncing up and down. "Oh, oh! And while we're there we can pick some berries, the salmonberries are growing right now, they're wild so we can eat as many as we like! Ooooh, and the pond's down there too! We can look for tadpoles, there's loads right now! And then we can play with Nana's kitty, Bella! She's so soft and fluffy, she has blue eyes and she's a pedi… pedi… um…. she's special and really friendly, she loves pets just as much as Laddie! Oh, this is gonna be so much fun, c'mon!!"

She grabbed his hand excitedly and, dazed but delighted, Sebastian allowed himself to be led away.

All of sudden it seemed to him that the light had been turned back on in his life and its name was Lily.

Rose carefully opened the door onto the porch and tiptoed out, smile crossing her face at the sight that greeted her eyes. Laddie lifted his head from his paws at her approach and she bent to gently pet him while looking fondly at the two children sleeping in a tangled heap together on her rocking chair, fluffy Birman cat purring contentedly beside them. Her smile grew wider as she noticed their berry-stained mouths and the jar of tadpoles at the foot of the chair. She climbed to her feet, cast one last glance over their slumbering forms, the way their tiny hands were clasped so firmly together, and then she turned and walked back inside.

She had never seen Lily open up to anyone the way she had to this boy. Well, his stepfather would be along soon enough to collect him and for now she wanted nothing more than to allow those poor children as many moments of peace and happiness as possible.

Lily hugged herself excitedly as she waited for Demetrius to bring Sebastian over for the day. She didn't like the man at all, he was big and tall and had a cold face, but his arrival meant Sebastian's arrival and that was something Lily wanted more than anything in the world.

She had never really had a friend before, always spent all her time alone, had learned at a very young age that other people were not to be trusted. Other than her nana and sometimes her grandpa no one had ever really been kind to her. The last few weeks in Sebastian's company had been the happiest of her life, his quiet, gentle nature made her feel so safe and content that when she was with him she could forget…

She pursed her mouth and folded her arms determinedly… no, she wasn't going to think about those things right now, not with Sebby due to be here so soon!

She heard the sound of a car door slamming and bounced her way into the kitchen just in time to see her nana open the front door and a furious Demetrius immediately start shouting and gesticulating wildly.

Fear surged through her at the sound of his anger, it reminded her far too much of those things she wanted to forget.

She shrank away, instinct demanding she flee, but her gaze was caught by Sebastian's face, by the look of utter loss and despair in his eyes.

Suddenly she found that she couldn't run away, wanted instead to run to him…

Because she knew just how he was feeling right now…

Had felt that way so many times herself.

"Mr Dawson, please, he's just a child!"

Lily cried out as Sebastian wrenched himself from his stepfather's grip and charged back down the path from which they'd come.

"Sebby!"

She couldn't let him go without her!

"Come on, Laddie!"

She streaked forwards, ducked under the reaching arms of the adults and shot out onto the path after her friend, a black and white dog-shaped blur following quickly in her wake.

Voices rose behind her but she paid them no heed, all she cared about right now was catching up with Sebastian and being with him again.

"I think we got away from them," Sebastian put his hands on his knees and paused to catch his breath. They had run all the way past the ranch and deep into Cindersap Forest before they'd finally come to a halt. He looked up to see both Lily and Laddie laid flat out on the ground panting for all they were worth. They looked so funny collapsed next to each other that, despite all that had happened to him that day, he started to laugh.

Lily pouted. "Don't laugh, Sebby, you're a boy and that means you can run faster than me!"

"What about Laddie, though?" he grinned. "He's a dog. What's his excuse?"

"Laddie's really old," Lily sat up and put her arms protectively around the dog who promptly painted her face with a big lick. "He's like twelve or something, that's positively ancient!" She looked up at him and her face fell. "What happened, Sebby? Why is your daddy so mad at you?"

Sebastian's grin vanished. He glared at the ground, kicked a stone viciously into the air.

"He's not my dad!"

His glare became more intense and Lily, feeling a little scared, hugged Laddie even harder.

"What do you mean?"

He sat heavily on the ground and let out a sigh. "He's not my real dad. He's my stepdad. My real dad's gone."

"Oh." Lily edged closer to him, trying to peer into his face. Was he still mad? She couldn't tell. But she wanted to comfort him. "What happened to your real dad?"

"He left."

He looked down at her and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. She didn't know that boys cried too.

"He left two years ago. He didn't care about me. Then my mom married Demetrius and they had my sister Maru and now my mom doesn't care about me either."

"Sebby…" Lily took his hand and held it. She didn't know what else to do to help him.

"I hate Maru!" he blurted. "She took my mom away from me, she's all anyone cares about now. Poor Maru, take care of poor Maru, she's so sick, keep Sebastian out of the way!" Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Well, today I took her medicine and I poured it down the sink and Demetrius found out and he hit me… and my mom didn't say anything, she just sat there, with Maru and… and…."

His voice trailed away, lost in misery. He pulled his hand away from hers, buried his face in his palms.

Laddie, sensing the children's sadness, licked them both gently.

"Sebby," Lily began to shake next to him, suddenly remembering all the things she didn't want to remember. "I… I know how you feel. My daddy hits me too."

He turned to look at her with wide, surprised eyes, tears halting at her words.

She fixed her gaze to the ground.

"He drinks this funny smelling stuff," her voice was tiny. "And then he gets mad and hits me and sometimes my mommy, too. I feel scared all the time I'm home because I never know when it's going to happen."

She was shaking so hard now she didn't think she could stop, almost jumped out of her skin when two boyish arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

"Don't worry, Lily," Sebastian's voice sounded determinedly in her ear. "I'll look after you. We'll live together in the forest, just you and me. We don't need the grown-ups anymore!"

She looked up.

His face was so close to hers she could see every detail of his eyes.

They were beautiful.

Then his mouth pressed against hers.

It was so soft…

So warm…

She lifted her hand to her chest.

How could something hurt yet feel so wonderful?

She saw the same tender confusion in his gaze too…

"Sebby…"

"Lily…"

He blinked and then smiled so sweetly she felt that wonderful hurt return once more.

"Come on," he stood up and offered her his hand. "I read a book that said there's a magical tower somewhere in this forest. Let's find it and make it our new home!"

"Okay," she returned his perfect smile and wrapped her fingers around his.

She could think of nothing she wanted more than to live in the woods with him. Safe in a place where no one could hurt them ever again.

Demetrius and Robin sat at the Donnelly's kitchen table, the young, red-haired woman shaking and sobbing inconsolably as Rose and Clifford looked on helplessly.

"Now then," Clifford chewed uncomfortably on the stem of his pipe. He didn't like dealing with other people's domestic problems. "They're only wee bairns, they can't have gone far. We'll find them. I've already got Lewis and Willy out looking for them and I'll be joining them in just a minute."

"I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have lashed out at him like that, it's just… ah, he made me so angry, that was his sister's medicine after all!" Demetrius looked stricken, trying and failing to find some way to soothe his wife.

"It's not your fault, it's mine! I should have done something, said something!" Robin wailed, clutching her crying infant daughter to her chest. "Oh, he's just a child, he doesn't understand!"

"Don't blame yourself, dear," Demetrius laid an awkward arm around his wife's shoulders. "Sebastian has been nothing but trouble since Maru fell ill and…"

"But he's my son, Demmy! And he needs my attention too. Oh, Sebby, I'm so sorry! I promise, if you come back I'll never send you away again!"

Demetrius fell silent as he wife rocked back and forth, Maru's tiny face growing redder and redder at her mother's distress. Rose and Clifford exchanged meaningful glances.

"Look after the Dawsons, love," Clifford sighed. "I'm going out to join the search. We'll find them, don't you worry."

The door slammed shut behind him and all that could be heard in the kitchen were Maru's angry wails and her mother's despairing sobs.

"This tower must be really deep in the forest." Sebastian looked around, frown creasing his forehead. He didn't want to admit it but he was starting to worry. The trees seemed a lot thicker and denser now than when they'd started, he could hear weird scuffling sounds from all directions and everywhere he gazed it seemed that something was lurking in the shadows. He shivered. It was cold too. He looked over at Lily, wrapping his fingers more closely around hers, trying to be brave for her sake. She seemed to have shrunk into herself over the last hour, even Laddie looked subdued, head drooping, tail hanging squarely between his legs.

"I'm sure we'll find it soon," Lily shakily declared, her little mouth quivering. A bird squawked nearby and she jumped, squeezing his hand so tightly that he yelped in surprise.

She let out a sob at his cry. "Oh, Sebby, I'm sorry…" her face fell and her sob became a wail. "Sebby! I'm scared, Sebby, I'm scared… waaaaaaaah!"

Sebastian stared at her, aghast. Oh Yoba, it was true. He couldn't deny it any longer. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know where they were or how to get back home. His heart sank into his boots. This was all his fault. He shouldn't have been so mean to Maru, shouldn't have run away like that. He looked at Lily, tears pouring down her face, pretty hazel eyes screwed tight as she bawled her fear into the uncaring forest.

He shouldn't have done this to the one person he cared for in the entire world.

"Lily, it's… it's gonna be alright."

He tried to convince her, convince himself.

And then, in that moment of complete helplessness, something fell softly to the ground beside him.

He glanced down and stared in disbelief at the pine cone that had dropped at his feet. Perfectly impossible at this time of year, yet there it was, a tiny wooden flower, every petal so exquisite it were as though some forest spirit had carved it…

...for Lily.

It had been made for her.

He knew it.

Without a shadow of a doubt.

He knelt to pick it up, a sweet, golden silence descending as he lifted it towards her, stilling his precious love's tears in a heartbeat.

"Lily, look, it's for you, it's just as pretty as you are."

Time stood still as she took it in her hand, her face a beacon, he could see little coloured shapes flitting at the edges of his vision, hear tiny chirps of otherworldly music, like some special magic was being set in motion and all that existed was him and Lily… he wanted to hug her again… started to climb to his feet… then everything shifted, tilted, warped, the coloured shapes cried out in fear and a tall, leaning tower covered with thick green moss and vines slammed into being before them, a hooded owl glared from a high, peaked roof before soaring down towards them, a terrible screech leaving its beak and suddenly it seemed as though every twig within a hundred mile radius snapped at once, wind tugged violently at their clothes, a dog howled and they screamed and clung to each other as a deep voice boomed through the air.

"This won't do, this won't do at all! I cannot allow mundanes to see my abode!"

Darkness clapped down on the world and when light returned where once there had been two children and a dog now sat a man in long purple robes, a mottled owl perched docilely upon his shoulder.

"Children were much more well behaved in my day," he muttered to himself, before climbing to his feet and heading towards his tower.

"Where are we?" Lily's voice was a tiny quaver in the darkness. He could feel her huddled next to him, shivering in fright. "What happened?"

"I don't know." He bit back a whimper. "It's too dark to see."

"Sebby, I'm scared of the dark!"

He beat down his own fear, filled with a desperate need to assuage hers, and reached into his pockets. He always carried a box of matches with him, along with an array of other items that only a child would deem useful.

He pulled them out and quickly struck one. A flare of warm light shot up and he could see Lily's panic-stricken face but little else. He looked up. Wait, was that a trapdoor just above them? He pushed against it but it refused to budge even an inch. The match fizzled out and he let out a cry as it burnt his fingers.

Lily squealed as they were plunged into darkness again, clinging to him in terror. "Sebby! Don't let the light go out, please!"

He looked down, unable to see her, but knowing she was there, aware of her warmth, the beating of her heart, her tears soaking his t-shirt. He should have been afraid, but he wasn't, all of a sudden he felt incredibly strong, strong for her. He would protect her. That was his job.

He lit another match and she let out a sigh of relief. Their eyes met in the little cone of light.

"I won't let the light go out, Lily," he said softly.

"Isn't it burning your fingers?" Her bottom lip trembled.

"It doesn't matter." He put an arm around her and she burrowed closer.

"Put your hands over your ears, Lily," he said. "I'm gonna get us out of here."

She obediently covered her ears and he lifted his head and started to shout.

He didn't know exactly where they were, but if anyone was nearby he would make sure they were heard. He smiled as Laddie barked along with him, didn't even wince when the match went out, scorching his fingers again, he simply lit another one and carried on shouting.

He would keep the light on for Lily until they got out of here. No matter how much it hurt.

The forest spirit chirped loudly at the wizard and he frowned as it bounced on his doorstep, refusing to let him back in his tower.

"Yes, I know you were about to show them the way out, but, foolish sprite, in so doing you also revealed my tower to them! Now don't worry, they're quite safe and will be found soon. I know who they are and what they will become. I've been watching them, both now and in the future, for a long time."

The spirit bounced more meaningfully, waved an angry little arm.

"Well, I'm sorry if I scared them, but they needed to be scared! This is not a place for mundanes to be snooping about in, least of all ones of such small stature."

Bounce. Chirp.

The wizard sighed.

"Yes, I told you, I know who they are. They're the ones who will take over the farm in the future. Yes, I am aware of how important that land is."

CHIRP!

"Very well, I will send her grandfather there now!" He snapped his fingers in the air. "There, it's done. Now stop your blasted chirping, I need to return to my meditations!"

Sebastian's voice was growing ragged, his fingers raw and throbbing from all the matches he'd held, so when he heard the sounds of the trapdoor grating open above them he almost cried with relief.

"There you are! I told Lewis we should never have let this old community centre fall into such disrepair. It was only a matter of time till something like this happened!"

"Take Lily first," Sebastian called up. "She's really scared."

"Of course." Lily's grandpa held out a hand for his grandchild. "Come here, love."

Lily looked from Sebastian to her grandpa and back again, then locked her little arms so firmly around him that he didn't think she was ever going to let go.

"Sebby, Sebby!" she cried his name as her grandpa prised her away and he could only stare up after her, afraid, though he didn't know why, that he was never going to see her again. Then he was being lifted up too and they were being examined by the town's doctor, fussed over by parents and grandparents and before he could do or say anything he was being dragged down a path and bundled into a car, finally managing to cry out that he would see her again tomorrow for sure.

He heard her calling desperately for him as the door shut and his earlier fear returned. He struggled to get out but was held back and then they were driving away and he felt panic grip him as never before.

He knew something bad was going to happen, he just knew it…

"I'm taking Lily away."

Clifford frowned at his son and quietly closed the kitchen door. His wife had just gone to bed and he'd be damned if he'd give her any more upset today.

"David," for once he tried to speak softly. "You're being unreasonable. Lily is fine, nothing bad happened to her."

"Nothing bad happened? You let her run off with that young hoodlum! What if it happens again? What if you don't find them next time?"

Clifford's frown grew sterner. "If you really cared so much about Lily you'd stop all your drinking and…"

"That's none of your business!"

"It is my business, you're my son and that's my granddaughter. You act like you care so much and yet you treat both her and her mother like dirt."

"Yoba dammit! I'll not stand here and listen to this!"

"Keep your voice down! You'll wake your mother!"

"I don't care! Lily is never coming back here again and that's final!"

Lily sobbed alone in her room. Her father had locked her in when he brought her back, angry with her constant crying and demands for Sebby. Her mother had been too tired as usual to offer any help and her beloved nana was far far away now and could no longer rock her to sleep.

She picked up her little pine cone rose, remembering when he had handed it to her.

Pain flared in her chest.

She wanted him.

Wanted him more than anything.

Was she really never going to see him again?

"Sebby!" she wailed desperately and, out in the night, a little spirit chirped miserably and went flitting away from her window.

"What do you mean, Lily's not coming back?" Sebastian glared at his mother as she sat on his bed next to him.

Robin lifted a hand to smooth his hair away from his face. Her poor boy. He'd never been very good at making friends and now the one friend he had made had been taken away from him.

She sighed. Things had been so difficult since Maru had been born. She was such a sickly child, always demanding so much time and attention, and Sebastian had already been suffering ever since his father abandoned them both. Was there anything she could have done better? Guilt gnawed at her as she looked at her son's indignant little face.

"I mean she won't be coming back to the farm again. Her daddy took her away and…"

"Why?"

Robin's hand dropped limply to her side. How could she possibly explain this to a six year old?

"Sebby, sometimes adults have to…" she groaned internally. "You wouldn't understand…"

Sebastian shot to his feet. "I understand, I understand just fine! You adults take everything away. It's not fair!"

He darted past his mother and out into the hallway, wrenching open the door to the basement, half falling down the stairs till he threw himself in a corner and curled up into a ball, rocking himself while he stroked the little frog-shaped stone he'd pulled from his pocket.

"Lily," he said softly and then his tears started to fall.

A soft chirp echoed his tears and a sudden breeze momentarily lifted the dust on the floor.

"What's that you say?" The wizard looked up from his bubbling cauldron. He had never been so bothered by the junimos in a long time.

Chirp, chirp, chirp…. chiiiirp!

"Have they now? Hmm, I see…"

He stopped what he was doing, raising a hand to rub thoughtfully at his beard. Well. Here was something he hadn't foreseen. He had witnessed much of Sebastian and Lily's future, how vital the two of them would be to the revitalising of the land to the north, but, for some reason, the mists had not shown him this. He glanced down at the madly bobbing spirits before him. He could understand their agitation. Although he professed little concern for the mundanes he was not completely without a heart.

"You are quite right, my little friends, this does seem unnecessarily cruel. Very well. I shall cast another spell." He turned to his almanac and leafed through its pages until he found the right one, whereupon he began intoning a string of archaic sounding words before waving his hand in a slow circle around his head.

Chirp?

"I can do little to change the way their lives must unfold, nevertheless I have cast two spells which may offer some help. The first, a simple spell of peace and dreams to ease their immediate pain, the second a shroud of deep forgetfulness so that to all involved it will be as though they never met."

Chirp!

"Not to worry, it won't last forever! They and everyone around them will remember again when the two items come back together. For now this is all the succour I can give them."

Lily and Sebastian ceased their crying and looked in wonder at the item they held in their hands. Whatever it was that had made them so sad was gone for now and in its place was a little glimmer of peace and hopefulness, that one day there would be a bright light in their lives and all they had to do was wait for it. Both of them closed their fingers around their treasure and fell asleep where they lay, dreaming… dreaming of a distant future…

"Oh Seb!" Lily dropped her pine cone rose to the floor and flung her arms around her husband. "It was you! I remember now, all those years ago!"

Sebastian let his stone frog fall from his fingers and pulled her close. Lily. His precious Lily. How much she'd meant to him then. How much she meant to him now. This explained everything. He knew her. Had always known her. Always loved her.

"Lily," he sobbed into her hair. "I always knew… knew you belonged to me!"

"Sebby, oh Sebby! Thank you!"

"What for?" he choked on his tears, searching out her face, desperate to see her, touch her, kiss her.

"For being my everlasting light!"

Then they were both sobbing, kissing and holding each other as tight as they could. Husband and wife. Together forever. Just as they were meant to be since time began.

The spirits bobbed happily in an unseen corner before silently disappearing.

The world came full circle once more.

And everything was finally, perfectly complete.

~The End~

Cute little page dividers by @chachachannah / Boring old plain green ones by me!

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gh0stlyfixation · 1 year

Text

The Love of Us

Part four

Warnings: smut, threesome, male on male action, oral (female and male receiving), fingering, idk, a lot of smut, praise and degradation kink, Also still learning to write smut so it might not be great.

18+ MDNI, my smut work will be going under mature content so please set your settings to be aloud to see mature content if you wish to see it.

Part three here

You went to bed not long after König left. You placed a t-shirt and some underwear on and slipped under the covers with a smile. How did I get lucky? Two handsome men, two men that are into what I am? Two decent and caring men? Fuck.

You turn to your side and look at the empty side of the bed, frowning. You don’t like sleeping alone anymore. You spent years sleeping next to someone, but suddenly it was ripped away from you. You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but you weren’t.

You were sure if you told Simon or König they would fill up that space but it hasn’t even been a week of knowing them. Sure you’ve done some things with them but, occupying your bed seemed a little too much, or so you think. You scoff at yourself, girl, you’ve had an orgasm on Simon and König fucked your throat, how is sleeping in the same bed too much, you yell at yourself.

The sun peaks through your curtains and you look at your phone for a time, ten in the morning. Fuck. You get off the bed and move to your closet putting on a tight crop shirt and loose sweatpants with your thick socks.

—

By lunchtime, you decide to clean around. You look up at the photos König previously asked about, today seemed hard for some reason and your best friend calling you didn’t help.

“I put some roses on his grave for you. I miss you.” She tells you.

“He loved those.” You said back to her. “I miss you too.” you frowned.

“I know. We miss him. We’re with you girly. Can’t wait to see you again.” She said to you.

You look down at the floor trying to fight back a tear, as happy as you were now, John was your best friend who you grew up with. He was your high school sweetheart. You sigh and look back at the pictures. You step forward and remove the smaller side photos stacking them in a neat pile.

Something about taking down these photos click in your brain, you had boxes of his belongings in your basement just sitting. Maybe it was time to go through them. You tell yourself.

You collect the photos and head down the stairs. The basement was finished, nothing but boxes resided down there. It would be a movie theater when you find new homes for your storage containers and boxes.

Slowly you start going through boxes of his clothes. You started a keep, throw away, donate and give back to the family pile. Most of his t-shirts were keeps, his old high school t-shirts from sports and clubs were a must-keep. His sweats you kept, especially his basketball sweats from college, it was your favorite pair.

Old trophies and awards from high school and college went into the family pile, they might appreciate these, you think. You don’t hear your phone upstairs ringing and dinging with messages and calls, you are too focused on the boxes of his stuff.

Most things make you smile with memories. You find a box full of photos of you and him, you and your friends, and a mix of everything and everyone. These make you tear up, hundreds of memories that you can’t relive with him. Maybe I’m not ready, you think, but you were feeling happy for once. König and Simon made you feel good and real. You sigh and look at the mess you’ve made when you hear a familiar voice speak upstairs, “Y/N?” Oh shit, why are they here? You think.

You quickly wipe away the tears and take some deeper breaths, “you down there?” Simon ask. How in the fuck did they get inside here? Must’ve left the door unlocked, stupid.

“Yeah!” You say with a fake cheery voice, fanning your face to cool it down and rid of the redness.

“Hey, there lebiling.” König voice says when he sees you, ducking from hitting his head on the arch.

You look up from your mess of a pile and smile the best you could, “hi!”

The boys could see right through your fake smile but both silently decided to bypass that question. “What’s going on hear?” Simon asks, his hand gesturing to the mess.

“Well, I'm going through boxes of John's stuff. Sorting a throwaway pile and giveaway pile and a keep pile. My keep pile is getting too high though.” You frown, wanting to cry again. The boys see your teary eyes.

Simon wasn’t sure how to handle your emotions yet, it took him months to figure out how to help König during a panic attack. You were new to him, but König knew what to do. Simon stepped back unknowingly and looked at König for help, who didn’t take his eyes off you.

He took long steps towards you and bent his knees down to your level, he was still so tall, “Lebiling?” He softly asks.

He gave you caring eyes, and your smile soon turns downwards, “yeah?” Your voice is shaky.

“Why don’t we take a break?” He asked his voice heavy, something you haven’t heard yet. It was always Simon who spoke with seriousness.

“Okay.” You nodded lightly not wanting to argue, you took the hand he held out. He helps you stand up and hug you. You bury your head in his chest and hold an arm out for Simon. You want him to hug you too.

Simon pulls himself to you and embraces himself to you and König, Simon lets go eventually and König lifts you by your thighs. You wrap your arms around him and walk back up the stairs, you peek over his shoulder and see Simon behind him, once again reaching out for his touch. He smiles and holds onto your hand as they ascended the stairs

Simon was thankful König was here, he doesn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t. König leans back on the couch and you get comfy on him.Simon sits by him looking at König for assistance on what to do. “What’s got our pretty girl upset?” He asks.

“My friend from home called me and said she put some flowers on his grave. I was taking down the pictures,” you started. König looks at the spot where they used to be just yesterday, he looks at Simon. “Then I started sorting his things and I’m just sad.” You finished with a huff. “He was my best friend since we could walk, now he isn’t here.” You tear up. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m not over him and that he’s all I think about because I like you both and I don’t wanna lose you because I miss him.” You choke up looking at Simon.

His heart is breaking for you, “we aren’t going to think anything. He was your first love. He is always going to have a spot in your heart and that’s okay.” Simon says shocked knowing that he’s being this emotional with you. It’s because he understands grief. He understands the process of it, you turn your head to Simon and lay it back down on König, listening to him. “some days feel easy, some days are tough, but as the months and years go by, the memories never fade so you’ll have low days, and getting rid of the memories won’t help you.” He finishes.

Your silent for a moment, processing his words. He's been through grief, that much you could tell. “Who was it?” You ask shyly. Simon looks away, not ready to talk about it. “It’s okay. One day.” You say grabbing his hand and snuggling with it under you cheek.

“You sleepy?” Simon asks noticing your eyes fluttering close. Your feeling particularly small. You nod and snuggle into Königs chest, “where is your bedroom, love?” Asked Simon

“M’upstairs to the right, first door.” You said as König stands up and heads to it.

They look around and see your king-sized bed on the back wall in the center filled with blankets and pillows. You had a messy pile of clothes next to your bathroom door. They lay you down on the bed and cover you up and head to the dooras turn your light off and start to leave the room, “no, stay!” You sniffle. You feel extra emotional, something you haven’t felt in year's, almost little like a child. Simon looks at König, “You go ahead. I'm gonna clean around and make something for dinner later to simmer.” König says to Simon.

König walks out and Simon takes off his shoes and jacket and places them near the door, “is it okay if I remove my jeans?” He questions. You know he won’t be able to get comfortable with them on. You nodded and he removes them and gets in bed with you.

He wraps his arms around you your back firmly against his front, but no later how long you lay there, you couldn’t fall asleep, being this close to Simon was suffocating. He’s in nothing but his boxers and shirt and you could feel his cock and it wasn't even hard, fuck, how is that even possible? You ask yourself. “Si?” You whisper.

“Hm?” He asks. Your growing need for him is getting too painful. You can feel how wet you are for him. You’d take anything from him but you mostly wanted his fingers, because let's be honest, they hit all the right spots sometimes.

“I need you.” You whimper rubbing your thighs together

“What do you need pretty girl?” He ask, growing a little hard, his eyes getting darker as he looks down at you whimper for him.

“I want your fingers and mouth, please?” You look back up at him giving him big doe eyes.

“You asked so nicely, but that’s a want, not a need.” He tsked.

You frown and roll over to face him, lightly tugging at his shirt, “please sir?” You beg quietly.

He smiles at you and kisses your lips “okay pretty girl. Take off your bottoms then and get comfy.” He says and removes the blanket as you expose your bottom half to him for the first time. He pulls your body down closer to his face as he leans down to it “Such a pretty sight,” he says spreading your legs for you.

“Mm,” you say. He caresses your thigh before lightly nipping at them, it’s been a very long time since you fell into a subspace, you missed it. He gets closer to your core and you buck when you feel his breath get near, “m'sorry.” You apologize, remember how König acted when he moved on you, scared as if you would stop.

“You get a pass because this is new to you, but don’t do it again? You’ll learn soon.” He says.

You nodded, “Am I allowed to grip your hair Si?” You pout, god how could he ever say no to you, you were his girl, he nods dipping his head down into your core licking one long stripe.

He attacks it like a starved man, he groans into you, the vibrations making you moan, “yes!” You say loudly.

He pulls his head up and rubs his fingers on you, “you taste so good, pretty girl. Could eat you up all night.” He says running circles on your nub.

“Please, I want your fingers.” You moan.

“Asking so nicely, maybe König should take some lessons from you, should we get König? If you want baby.” Simon says, reminding you that you do have a say in what happens in the bed.

“Please, I wanna make him feel good. I wanna make you feel good.” You pout, giving him the best puppy dog eyes that you could.

“Right now is all about you though.” He reminds you.

“Please?” You ask quieter sounding weak and sad, still giving him the eyes.

He stares at you, knowing your game, “maybe, let me finish what you’ve started though.” He says making you smile. He grins at you, happy to see you smile and not frown. He sticks two fingers in you stretching you out and making your back arch up. He uses his other arm to hold you down.

He pumps his fingers in you quickly making you a moaning mess. You squeeze his fingers, “fuck your tight.” Simon moans out, only making you squeeze more around his fingers, “such a good girl. You gonna cum?” He asks not slowing his pace.

You nod vigorously, “please, can I sir?” You moan out.

“Make a mess on my fingers.” He says going even quicker rubbing circles around you nub. You moan out, loud and shake as he replaces his fingers with his mouth to taste you.

“Yes! Oh god, thank you!” You shout. You breathe heavily as he slowly stops what he's doing.

Simon looks up at you kissing your thigh, “I’m going to get Konig now my sweet girl.” He says. You smile and open your legs up again, “or should I say, dirty girl?” He asks you playfully slapping your thigh making you yelp and then giggle.

Simon is gone for a moment before you see König walking in confused at Simon's request of you needing him, “oh,” he says seeing you naked in front of him, legs spread and you grinning.

“I need you König,” you whine with a smile. It’s clear you just had an orgasm that he missed, Your core is glistening. König looks at Simon for permission.

“Get undressed and make her cum again.” Simon simply tells him. König waste no time undressing, naked and now on his stomach with his face leveled at your pussy. He looks at you and you nod and he licks one long stripe on your core.

You throw your head back. Simon comes up to you and attacks your lips, fervorusly making out with you claiming dominance with his tongue. You moan into the kiss and watch as Simon separates from you. Your gaze turns to König as you see his ass is perfectly arched and in range to be fucked. You go to speak but quickly shut your mouth.

“What is is?” He ask, he’s observant, you should know you can’t hide anything. Your embarrassed at what you want. “Tell me or König will stop and you won't be allowed to cum.” he threatens and hold onto your jaw.

“I- oh fuck!” You start as you grip onto König head pushing him into you more, “I wanna watch.” You whine, looking up at Simon.

He's confused for a moment but then he looks over at König, his ass is in the air, begging to be fucked. “You wanna watch me fuck König?” He asks, a little surprised but your always surprising him anymore.

König looks up at Simon, excited to finally get Simon in him. König pauses to look at you, “please?” You ask König sweetly.

Fuck how can he say no when you have those big puppy dog eyes. You sit up and grab Simon's cock in your hands and pump him, “can I lick you, sir?” You ask.

König watches you break one of simons rules, touching him without permission, but Simon doesn’t punish you for it, of course, he’s whipped by her, König thinks, “Go ahead, make it wet, König is gonna need it,” Simon tells you.

König watches as you fuck your mouth with Simon's cock. Simon holds your head as you move it back and forth slobbering on it, “fuck, such a little whore for it aren’t you?” Simon ask.

He pulls you off and sees the string of spit from your mouth. You use your finger to place it on his cock. He goes behind König and spits a little more on his hole. You go to lay back down, your core right back in front of König face. Simon finally slides into König making him moan loudly and tighten his walls around Simon’s large cock. His face gets pushed into your pussy by Simon and he eats it more.

You hear skin slapping as Simon shows König no mercy. König sticks his tongue inside of you and Simon's pace reflects on König tongue pace. He moans into you making you closer to your orgasm.

“Please König I need your fingers.” You whimper. He doesn’t move from what he’s doing, he's too drunk on the pleasure he's receiving and giving.

You hear a harsh slap and your eyes snap up at Simon as his hand leaves König ass, “listen up boy.” Simon scolds, “our girl wants your fingers so I suggest you do as she says.” Simon says with one more smack as he slows down.

König whimpers and sinks two large fingers in you as he continues to assault your core and nub with his mouth. “Oh fuck! Yes!” You yell out, beginning to shake.

“That feel good? His mouth on you? His fingers? Look at you shake.” Simon taunts giving König a few more smacks.

You finally open your eyes looking up at Simon, he’s smirking as he pounds into König. The sight in front of you releases a feeling you never felt. You've never seen a man fuck another in front of you. Seeing König eyes squeeze shut and he eats you out and gets fucked sends you into a frenzy, you don’t know how to feel now, you want to praise Simon for fucking him so good, but submit and beg for more.

“Feels to good, looks to good.” You babble as you pulls König closer into you.

“That’s a good girl, fuck, feels so good König.” König moans, the vibration to much.

“Please can I cum?” you beg.

“Not yet,” Simon tells you. “I want all of us to cum together.” He tells you as he goes to pull on König cock. It leaks precum, aching to come.

“M’please Si! Please, I can't hold it!” You cry, god this pleasure was to much but it felt so good.

“Come, with us,” Simon says as he feels König start to tremble underneath him. König licks at you and sucks harder on your nub, quickly adding his fingers into you as you rut yourself onto his lips, “oh my god! König!” You tell as he moans into you, the vibrations set you over the edge.

König spurts onto your sheet and you leak out your orgasm onto his hands that still linger in you, Simon stilling in König as he twitches inside him. König rests his head on your thighs and groans once Simon pulls out, König removes his fingers and you whine, too sensitive.

König rubs your thigh softly as Simon goes to collect a towel to clean both of you up, König looks up at you as you rub his hair with a smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper when Simon cleans you both up. Simon can see both yours and König eyelids flutter close. Simon coxes König to get up to the pillows, “but these are good pillows,” König whines snuggling closer into your thigh.

You tug him up, “want you to hold me.” You say. König comes up and Simon scoffs at him listening to you so easily. He wraps around you as the big spoon and you the little spoon and quickly König is out. “I want you both to hold me.” You look up at Simon giving him more puppy dog eyes.

“Who knew you were so bratty.” He says coming up behind you and kissing your shoulder. You giggle and snuggle your head into König, finally able to relax once Simon wrapped his arms around you.

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iieonarch · 4 months

Text

Should this be their last.

// No CWs or TWs . Sort of melancholic , I wrote this while still in the process of making my oc's lore so this might be vague and be a bit different to his finalized character later , might be ooc from canon , ZuoNan (as in his title and not his name: 南王子)

---

The muscles in his legs ached slightly from the journey, completely unprepared for the hike needed to get to the location of the meeting stated in that letter. There was no time to procrastinate the day of this departure for that stamp belonged to only this childhood friend of his has finally appeared after quite some time.

The air is unexpectedly chilly even in spring, the silence resembled the world lifeless uncommon for a season that brimmed with the vibrance of the living; only the subtle melodies of leaves and creaking of slim bamboo trunks accompanied his adventure upward.

Zuo Le stopped in his tracks and released a breath as he held onto the worn-down wooden railing that separated himself from the path and the forest.

His surroundings were a large expanse of bamboo trees and beyond that were mountains that resembled Lungmen’s skyscrapers. A landscape so magical that reminded him of the peaks in Shangshu that might as well be a mirage yet it was a beauty he remembered quite vividly.

The bottom was covered in thick fog, even if there was a sign of a small community of sorts Zuo Le wouldn’t see it.

He sucked in a breath, letting the cold spring breeze cool his throat before he turned to climb the last few stairs. An addition of shuffling ahead added to the bleak silence before the clink of his sword rang through as he placed his hand on it.

The moment their eyes met, Zuo Le dropped his hand back to his side. Those red horns of a true Lung that matched his eyes and a smile Zuo Le easily imagined under that dark veil covering the lower half of his face: The Prince of the South of Great Yan.

“Has the journey exhausted you? I couldn’t find a better place without it being private enough,” the Prince spoke as they sat by the wooden table, decorated with a few bamboo leaves at the bottom and hints of green moss. The Prince had no issue with the lack of cleanliness of the surface yet Zuo Le’s inner urge rose to lay his coat for the stool he was already sitting on.

“The area is very much to your taste, though I apologize for being a bit late,” Zuo Le said as he sat on the opposite side of the table.

The Prince acknowledged his apology with a casual hum before he picked up a wrapped item and placed it on the stone table, unwrapping the cloth to reveal neatly stacked lunch boxes.

As the Prince stood up to lay them out, so did Zuo Le.

“Don’t,” he put his hand in front of Zuo Le, a small breeze pushed his veil away to reveal the corners of his lips pulled upwards before he laughed, “you’re exhausted, I’m aware of the adventures those siblings have put you through.”

Zuo Le slowly sat back down with a troubled look. “As much as you do this to me, I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it.”

“That’s alright. You can buy me something from Lungmen the next time we meet.”

Zuo Le explained his encounters with the Sui Siblings along with Rhodes Island’s involvement that he started to pick on when he was in Shangshu, followed by his meeting with the most recent among them: Shu.

The next report was less of a report and more of a subtle question of approval.

“Stationed in Rhodes Island,” the Prince repeated after Zuo Le explained his next journey, his tone strangely calm which made Zuo Le lowered his chopsticks and think over his decision once more.

“Do you disagree, Your Highness?”

“Certainly not,” the Prince immediately assured, moving forward to take another snack from one of the containers, “if it makes your job easier then I have no qualms against this. On the other hand, I’m very impressed.”

Zuo Le lowered his head. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The Prince rested his head on his hand as his veil swayed to the side following the tilting of his head. The gentleness in his eyes is noticeable when Zuo Le waited for more of his reaction, even as the silence slowly crept in such a look was hard for him to pull away from. With the rareness akin to the night flower he remembered the Prince cultivated in his garden, on the night that treasure bloomed white petals under the moon; Zuo Le was reminded of the letter he received that day.

I wish you were here to see it with me. The pureness of a first bloom untouched by a speck of dirt and petals brighter than any of the first snow I’ve seen.

A smile softer than any silk Zuo Le had touched separated behind the dark veil only he had the luxury to see.

“If I could be honest with you, Zuo Le. It’ll be a bit more lonelier.”

Perhaps, he should’ve realized the impact of his choice earlier. For someone to be a close friend to the Prince that he had always called Zuo Le’s name with such pride for as long as he could remember––he picked up his little gestures; like the borderline between the Prince’s usual tone before it dropped a bit lower, almost to a whisper. Wanting to keep silent about his true feelings yet wanting them to be heard, even for both of them, vulnerability remained a weakness.

If they weren’t closer since young, the quietest of confessions that would be swept away by the wind could never be heard nor would Zuo Le feel the safety of having a powerful support.

“I could…send you letters daily,” Zuo Le suggested after a while. His words made the Prince chuckle and earned him a generous amount of lotus root crackers to his plate that the Prince scooped up with his chopsticks.

“I’d never deny your letters, but don’t force yourself to,” he said in the end.

“I don’t have the right to keep you chained to me. You’re your own person, Zuo Le.”

But he could. He could tell Zuo Le to be his guard and leave this mission, no one would back down from the Prince’s orders. After all, the person who suggested Zuo Le to the Sui Regulators faction was the Prince himself.

Rhodes Island would be a convenient place to keep an eye on the siblings and he was honored to have this role, he wouldn’t have asked for anything else.

However, a small voice in him wished that he would return to stand next to the Prince just as they were back then. Maybe he wouldn’t miss that night flower if he did.

“Since you said that I’m my own person, you will have to accept my incoming stack of letters. That’s my choice.”

The Prince dipped his head as he laughed at the determined tone Zuo Le had. He leaned forward against the edge of the table.

“I’ll look forward to them.”

--End--

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wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Killer Writing - Epilogue

Dave York x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After divorcing Carol so she could marry her soulmate, Dave York threw himself into his work. There is no way he could have predicted that the unexpected collateral damage on an op would turn out to be his soulmate. Now all he can do is keep you safe, and try his best to get you to not hate him as the two of you try to navigate a blooming relationship that started out with threats and a mean right hook.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8.7k Warnings: *Blanket content warning for self-esteem, self-image, and weight issues.* Daddy kink, breeding kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, sex for procreation, creampie/cum play, SO MUCH FLUFF. Summary: It’s move-in day after months of renovations, and Dave has a surprise for his soulmate. Notes: I had a little fun with the gif this week can you guys tell? 🤣 Thank you all so much for coming on this THIRD soulmate journey with us!! It has truly been so lovely to read along with your reblog comments and tags, and to screech with all of you in DMs over how much you loved this story. Dave and his sweetheart will always hold a very dear place for us and we’re so glad that you have loved them as well! 💗

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Epilogue

“Babe, do you have the box of kitchen shit?” Dave leans around the island and raises his voice in order to push the question through the house. It echoes through the empty space. Surprised when he opened the box to find toothbrushes and shampoo, he wonders if you mixed up labeling them. “Babe?”

“Hang on!” Your voice bounces from the front hall, off the living room walls and back to the kitchen as you carefully shuffle through the house with an enormous box in your hands that was meant for the kitchen but never got there. “I don’t think the moving guys could read my cursive,” you laugh. “This one clearly says Dishes not Dining.”

“Or maybe you just have doctor’s handwriting.” Dave teases, huffing when he sees you lugging the large box and moves around quickly to take it from you. “I would have come to get it.” He grumps at you, already huffy over the heavy stuff you have been dragging around when you could have just called him.

“You’re not my servant, baby.” Around the corner of the box, you lean over to kiss him quickly and look at the box he had opened. “Yeah, this one was probably at the top of the stairs, right? It says Bathroom, not Basement.”

“Yeah.” Dave glances over at the stack of boxes next to the door to the basement right off the kitchen. “I guess they weren’t lugging the rest of the shit down there after dealing with the safe.”

“God forbid they do what we paid them to.” Rolling your eyes a little, you move the bathroom box off of the kitchen island and reach for Dave’s hand. After six long months of extensive work, you’re finally standing together in your forever home. Unpacking boxes to set up the house that you’ll raise your children in. Sorting out how to fully combine your belongings the way you’ve combined your lives. “Happy moving day, handsome.”

“Happy moving day.” He smirks and leans in to kiss you. “You know…” He hums playfully. “We get the bedroom set up fast enough, we could break it in before dinner.” He tells you with a wink.

“The two most important things in any house.” You grin at him and happily let him reel you into his arms. “The place where we fuck, and the place where we fuel up again.”

“Might be the only places we need.” Dave jokes, hands sliding down to tuck under the band of your shorts. Humid Virginia weather and moving had convinced you that those shorts you had hated were necessary and of course he was taking advantage whenever he could. Squeezing your ass playfully and grinning at you.

“We’re gonna have to fuck everywhere,” you remind him, as though it’s some deep and ancient wisdom. “Gotta christen the whole house.”

“Every room.” He vows solemnly. “I want to be able to point to a spot and tell our kids ‘I fucked your mom right there’.” He tells you, eyes serious except for the playful spark in their depths.

“Please don’t tell our kids that.” The comical cringing face you make at him has both of you laughing, and you lean in to indulge in a kiss. “Tell them you danced with me everywhere. That’s much cuter and less scarring.”

“Birthdays will have to be sex anniversaries.” He counters. “Or we call them our little sex trophies.”

“Their birthdays will be anniversaries of being in labor for god knows how long.” Katie and Deirdre may have told you their birth stories over drinks one night last month and fully horrified you in the process. You didn’t touch Dave for three full days afterward.

Dave huffs and shakes his head. He knows the stories you were told. Hell, he was in the waiting room with the rest of the team each time. “We’ll make sure we get you the good drugs.” He promises.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” You tell him sincerely. “Come on, handsome. Let’s bring this randomly misplaced bathroom box upstairs and unpack the bedroom. Then we can have self-congratulatory sex in a freshly made bed.”

“Done.” Dave scoops up the box and starts for the stairs. “After that we can unpack your mugs.”

“Which will be an hour-long project on its own.” True to his word so many months ago, Dave had built a little set of mug-sized shelves for the kitchen counter to display all your Tea Distribution Vessels, as he likes to call them. It sits nestled against the backsplash above the kitchen counter just waiting to be filled.

"You do have a lot of TDVs." Dave jokes, as he carries the box up the stairs behind you. The entire house had been redone and all the things that Dave had imagined going into the home had become reality, along with your style blending with his. "But it's also just going to grow over the years."

The soft blue-grey paint on your bedroom walls had been the most debated color in the whole house but looking at it now, it was clearly the right choice. Whatever mix-ups the movers had had with the boxes didn’t affect the furniture it seems, because even your bedside reading lamp is perfectly placed on your nightstand. “Everything in this house is going to grow. And there’s plenty of room for it.”

"That's because you had to have the largest house on the block." Dave teases, although he hadn't really had to be convinced when the two of you looked at the house seven months ago. It was the first, and the last listing the two of you actually toured. You had fallen in love with the possibilities and Dave had enjoyed personalizing it for the two of you. If there just happened to be a hidden panel to hide easy-to-access weapons around the house, it was just fine with him. It also didn't hurt that he talked the owner down another thirty thousand because of how much work the house needed.

“And the sexiest soulmate.” You flash him a grin when he sets down the box that had accidentally ended up in the kitchen. “It’s the house that blood money built, and I intend to enjoy it.” Every cent that had ended up in that offshore account under your name went into fixing up this house and you couldn’t be more pleased with the result.

He huffs and levels a look at you. “I wish you had just kept that money and let me pay for all of the renovations.” He hadn’t been happy with your decision, tried to talk you out of it, but at the end of the day he had respected your wishes. All of that money plus whatever else was needed went into making the house exactly what the two of you wanted.

“I wanted to make something positive out of it.” You slip both arms around his waist and tip your chin back to look at him. “The best thing I’ll ever do is build my life with you, baby.”

"I know." He does know that. He had just wanted you to save it. To make sure you always had a good nest egg away from what he had, although in his mind, that was all yours too now.

“I promise I’ll put any profits from the book into savings.” Despite the positive encouragement from your brand-new literary agent and your little circle of friends, you’re trying to be levelheaded about the possibility of a successful first novel. It is the dream, but sometimes you have to cut a diamond just a little before it can shine brilliantly.

"Oh, I know you will." Dave chuckles, leaning in and kissing your forehead. "I just want you to be secure in knowing that you have options." He frowns slightly, thinking about his mother and how many times he had begged her to leave that bastard she had married. Because she had tied her finances to him and given him control over everything she had, she had been trapped. He never wanted you to feel like you were in the same situation even though he would never lay a hand on you in anger.

“I am and I do.” You assure him, nudging your nose against his chest and placing a kiss over his heart. “C’mon. Let’s get these couple of boxes unpacked and the bed made, and we can start the ritual of fucking on every surface in the house.

That might be the best idea you've had all day. Dave grinning and winking at you before he lets you go so he can flick out his knife and cut open the taped top of the first box. "Later, when we are done, we can christen the pool too." He tells you with a wink. "Skinny dip after the sun goes down, although the fence is tall enough that you don't have to worry about that during the day."

“You made sure of that.” He had been very careful checking local ordinances and regulations, making sure that the fence around your property would give the two of you the ability to indulge in the backyard if you wanted to. “We’ll relax and christen the pool tonight. I’ve been dying for a swim anyway.”

“Good.” He had also insisted that the tub you chose in the master bathroom could fit the two of you if he wanted to get in with you. “I guess we are either going to have to find a very ugly pool boy or I will just have to take care of it.” He jokes.

“I’ll have Katie send Scott over once a week.” You snort practically before the joke is even out of your mouth, and start pulling open a box marked Bedroom Mish-Mash. “Seriously honey, I can do some of the physical labor around here, too.”

“Shit…” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes. “I’ll see if Eddie down the street wants to make a few bucks.” He contemplates. “He’s leaving for college soon.”

“Not eager to see Kovac in a Speedo?” You giggle. “However you want to do it is fine with me. Eddie’s a nice kid. And he could use the extra money getting out to California.”

“Just don’t think he’s too nice.” Dave teases, although he knows that there is no way you would ever cheat on him. “And I don’t want to ever see Kovac’s hairy back again if I can help it.”

“God, babe. He’s seventeen.” The animated way you shiver in creeped-out disgust is only half for show. “Even if I was single that’s just downright gross.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I’ve heard some of the women at the country club. Those caddies and lifeguards are meat to them.” Despite his groaning, he had gotten a membership to the club and dutifully had a standing monthly golf date with your father. Often times, the rest of the guys would join, and it turned into a boys’ day. Your father was ecstatic when that happened.

“And it’s gross.” Some of the women at the country club had, however, gotten ahold of one of the press releases for your novel and quietly pre-ordered about two dozen copies amongst themselves though, so it was hard to be too harsh on them when they were literally supporting your career. “I hope he finds a very nice girl his own age and avoids those ladies twice his age like the plague.”

“He might not see it that way when he’s over eighteen.” Dave shrugs. “Although I find it highly hypocritical that those same women complain about men looking at their sixteen-year-old daughters in thong bikinis at the pool.”

“When he’s an adult it’s totally up to him and I would tell our son the same thing.” From the box on the end of the bed, you pull carefully folded sets of sheets, and the bedroom curtains you had had up in the apartment and start putting things away. “But the kid still has to ask permission to use the bathroom during class. That makes him a kid and it makes it weird. Either way, yeah. Ask the kid if he wants to make a little extra money. Better we offer it to him than someone with less than honourable intentions.”

"I'll talk to him." Dave promises and grabs another set of sheets to start making up the bed. The moving crew had set up the bed and he had already unrolled the carpet where it was going to be, so he didn't have to move anything. "So, I've been thinking...." He ventures, wondering how you are going to feel about his idea.

“Always dangerous.” You grin at him and continue fluffing the bed pillows in their clean cases. “What’s up?”

"I don't think I want to turn the room next door into my office." He tells you, tucking in the sheets and turning to look over at you. "I'm thinking about getting the contractor back out here to install a pocket door between our room and that room."

“What do you want to do with it, then?” Dave has graciously consented to let you convert the small pool-shed into your writing workshop, and in turn you had said he could use whatever room in the house he wanted as his home office. “Do you have another place in mind for your office?”

Dave nods. “I’ll put my office in the basement for now, but….” He stands straight and walks over to you, sliding his arm around your waist and turning you to face the wall that the two rooms shared. “I was thinking…” he whispers in your ear and kissing the lobe. “That we install a door and turn that into our nursery. Don’t even have to go out into the hall to reach the baby when they start crying.”

The image that conjures makes you hum softly, leaning into his embrace in that natural and intimate way that sends shivers up your spine no matter what else is going on at the time. “Preparing for the distant future, or are you starting to think you might want someone other than me to call you Daddy?”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger.” He teases, grinning even as his cock twitches at you saying Daddy. “I think maybe we should stop using condoms? The house is done, and your book is going to be a big hit. The company is starting to take off. It just feels right.” Since you ran out of birth control at the cabin, you hadn’t taken any more, he had just opted to use condoms.

“Are you sure?” Turning carefully in his arms, you put yours around him in turn and search his face. You’re sure that the lump in your throat and the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird are reflected in your face - he’s always been able to read you like a book and right now you know what’s he’s reading is excitement. “You’re ready?”

"I got confirmation that no one else will be coming for you." Dave hums quietly. Just because he was retired didn't mean he couldn't receive phone calls from old friends who just happened to pass along the information that the message he had sent to the North Korean government had been heard. Loud and clear. "So I'm ready. If you are."

“I am.” You have been, truthfully, since you hadn’t felt the aftershocks of what happened quite as acutely as Dave and the guys did as they tied up invisible loose ends. What you dealt with afterward was a lot of mental gymnastics and some nightmares that had fairly well faded by now. “I’m so ready.”

He smirks, pleased at your answer even though he was certain at what it would be even before he opened his mouth. "So what do you think about changing that room into a nursery?" He asks. "Just until we are done having kids and then we can turn it into my office. I just want us to be able to have the baby nearby and still have our privacy when I need to make you cum."

“Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.” The way you smile makes your whole face scrunch up and your nose wrinkle as you dive in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck to haul him close in the process.

Dave hums against your lips, smirking against them before he slides his mouth open to let his tongue flick against yours when he deepens the kiss. Tightening his grip on you and pulling you closer. Absorbing your moans eagerly and he's tempted to push the box off the bed and start trying right now. Everything else fades away the way it always does when Dave kisses you. Like nothing else ever mattered in the first place and he’s bound to prove that to you by banishing all other thoughts from your head. There isn’t a single place you’d rather be than in his arms anywhere, but the fact that you’re standing in your bedroom in the house you’re making into a home together makes it that much better.

He pulls away reluctantly, aware that both of you are panting slightly and if it keeps up, unpacking for the day will be done. "Sooner we get the bedroom unpacked, the soon I fuck you into our bed in our new bedroom." He murmurs, squeezing your ass possessively.

“No fair.” The pout you send him is absolutely pitiful. “How am I supposed to focus when I know you want to breed me?” You use the word deliberately, like a weapon aimed directly at his libido.

"Fuck." Dave hisses, reaching down and palming his cock to adjust himself in his own shorts. "Evil." He mutters, biting his lip and contemplating just saying 'fuck it' and that you can unpack later. That word sends a shiver down his back as he imagines just that, you full of his cum and wanting it to take.

“But you love me anyway.” You consider it a personal triumph anytime you can make him sound that needy, and merrily go about unpacking the rest of the box currently sitting on the end of the bed - the things that usually sit on your respective bedside tables being easily put back into their rightful places.

"I do." He begrudgingly admits, before he carts the bathroom box into the large en-suite and starts unpacking it. Putting your soaps and shampoo and conditioner next to his own in the walk-in shower makes him smile. He had insisted that a bench seat was needed in the glass enclosed space, knowing he was going to fuck you on it often.

The bulk of the work here is just putting clothing away, and the his-and-hers walk-in closet is filled to bursting before long. Dave’s suits hang opposite your own clothes like they were always meant to be there and you grin to yourself every time you go back in with an armful of things to hang or shoes to shelve. Even his tie rack is carefully waiting to be filled right next to your jewelry box. This is another place to christen - the bench that tucks under your vanity counter is definitely strong enough to hold both of you.

Dave meticulously folds towels, washrags, and hand towels and stores them in the linen closet in the bathroom. Already having brought the most important thing up, a pack of toilet paper, he unloads the box that has the contents of the medicine cabinet. Storing everything in the baskets you had picked out to make everything neat and organized. You had accepted that Dave liked things neat and had tried to accommodate him. Which he thoroughly appreciated.

“Hey baby?” The call comes from the main bedroom a little sheepishly, and you can’t help laughing when Dave appears again from the bathroom almost instantly. You had been trying to manage hanging the curtains yourself and are failing spectacularly. “I think I need some help.”

"Of course." He shoves the last basket into the closet and closes the door before he makes his way over to you. "You don't want to give the neighbors a show later on?" He asks with a grin, winking at you as he takes the curtain rod from you.

“I don’t think so.” Just because you know he’s joking doesn’t mean you’re not going to shake your head at him and roll your eyes like you do. “Only I get to enjoy that view of you.”

"Hmmmm." Dave chuckles and looks over at you. "Someone sounds a little possessive." Not that he minds at all. It's honestly a good thing that you don't want to share him.

“Of my soulmate?” You level him with a completely serious expression. “You’re fucking right I am.”

"Good girl." He winks at you and smirks up at the curtain rod. "Bet you that I can get the windows covered before you get naked." He challenges you, knowing that you've developed somewhat of a competitive streak since you've been with him. It makes him laugh when the guys look at you in shock when you pick up their gauntlets.

“Oh please.” A playful scoff answers him but the promise of getting him naked along with you as quickly as possible is something you’re happy to compete for. “You’re on, York.”

He chuckles, hopping up on the step stool and quickly hooking one end of the rod in the bracket, twisting his head behind him to see you shucking your shorts and panties in one swift move. He grunts, reminding himself to turn back around and not watch you with the fucking curtain rod in his hand. Reluctantly pulling his eyes away so he can finish putting the drapes up.

You manage to toss off your shirt and hop onto the bed just a half second before Dave turns around again, and your grin of triumph is positively silly. “I win,” you proclaim, crooking one finger at him to beckon him off the step stool.

"You do." Dave agrees seriously, stepping down and turning towards you with a glimmer of a smile. "So what's your prize?" He asks, eyes roaming over you and his cock twitches when you spread your legs for him to give him that stunning view of your cunt. While you still had moments of insecurity, in the safety of your bedroom, you're growing more confident in wielding your sexuality and he is fucking mesmerized by it.

“I believe there was a promise of fucking me into the bed that I’d like you to make good on, please.” A glorious smirk forms on your lips and you can’t help but add: “Daddy.” In that low voice you do sometimes that makes him nearly growl.

"Goddamn." His voice is rough, lust ridden, and he quickly pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. "You want me to fuck you boneless?" He demands, reaching for the button of his shorts and pulls it open. "Leave you laying there breathless, leaking my cum before I shove a pillow under your hips to have you lay there like that?"

“God yes.” Sounds like an incredible fucking use of your evening, to be honest, and you’re not about to be shy admitting it.

He chuckles and pushes his shorts and boxers down, letting his hard cock bounce out and jut up proudly. "You want me to fuck a baby into you, baby?" He coos when you shift your hips up and slide your hand down to cup your breast.

“Been wanting you to for months.” Not that you’ve said much, maybe a passing comment a half dozen times grand total in the last few months, because you knew he wasn’t ready. Now that he is? After every single room you unpack, you’re going to be on your back with him as deep inside you as possible.

"I know." He has been wanting it too, denying himself only because he knows that if someone threatened you again, he would rain hell down on them, surely creating an international incident in his fury to protect you. "Good things come to good girls who wait for Daddy."

“You keep talking like that and I’m not letting you get dressed for the rest of the weekend.” You reach for him easily, snagging his arm and dragging him onto the bed beside you.

He laughs, falling onto the bed and reaching out and cupping your cheek before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours hungrily. "Is my baby girl eager?" He hums, kissing along your jaw.

“Always.” Grasping hands keep him close, bringing him with you when you lay back in the freshly made bed. One hand slips between you, gathering some of your own arousal on your fingers before wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it slowly.

"Jesus." He rucks his hips forward and he groans before he pushes you back and quickly clamors between your legs. "Do you— are you ready baby?" He asks, already eager to sink into your velvety walls and fuck you full of him.

Taking all of him without any preparation is always met with a little pinch, but fuck if it isn’t the best reason to gasp when he fills you. “I love you, Daddy.” It has a whole new layer about it with what you’re now embarking on, and that actually makes it all the sweeter.

"Fuck I love you." He drives his hips deep and grinds into you. "You always feel fucking perfect, baby girl."

“Just for—” Cutting yourself off with a moan, you revel in the fact that there are no neighbors sharing walls to hear you this time. You can be as loud as you want again, which was definitely something you had missed from the cabin. “Just for you, Daddy, fuck.”

His hands are bunched into fists, elbows burrowed into the mattress while he rocks his hips. "Can't wait until you make that a reality." He groans, smirking at the way your mouth drops open with another moan. "Make me a daddy."

“Fuck yes.” Your hips rock in rhythm with his, meeting each thrust with enthusiasm. “Gonna have you f—fill me up every, fuck, chance we get.”

Dave groans, even as he is smirking down at you when he pulls away from where he was kissing along your neck. "You're gonna be so gorgeous." He huffs, sliding one hand over to cup your breast and push it up higher so he can duck his head down and suck on it while he fucks you.

Your normal sense of humour would have you joking about ’Finally a good reason to be round’ but the spell of this moment is too precious to break. Instead, you’re a whining mess beneath him, wrapping your legs around his waist like you never want him to be further away than a half-thrust. “Not gonna be able to keep your hands off me,” you predict breathlessly, as though he didn’t already have that ‘problem’ now.

"Never." Dave agrees, twitching deep inside of you with another rough thrust. "Gonna work from home." He pants. "Have you write while you sit on my cock. Have meetings with my fingers buried inside you." He growls at the idea, loving the image of spreading you out on his desk and keeping you satisfied while you are horny and desperate for him.

“Fuck.” Between his pace and the pictures he’s painting for you, you cling to him just a little bit more. “Yeah?” You rock your hips up, taking him deeper and your head drops back to the pillow again with a moan. “Gonna keep your kn—knocked up girlfriend - oh god - satisfied?”

He almost says something, corrects your wording while he buries his cock deep inside you. Instead he moans, biting back the words on the tip of his tongue and tucks his head into your neck and completely covers you when his arms push up underneath your torso and he lowers his hips to push you into the bed even more. "Yeah."

The closer to the edge he works you the more rambling your praise becomes, until the most coherent word from your lips as you move with him is his name. There are no thoughts in the world now except him, and that is exactly the way you like it. Especially in the plush king-sized bed you’ve shared for months - now in your brand-new home.

"Love you baby." Dave grunts, sweat rolling down his spine as he moves. "Gonna knock you up, right here. Now." He promises, biting on your nipple slightly and then soothing it with his tongue.

“Love you — s-so much.” The familiar spark in your core that only come from Dave makes your movements with him a little more frantic. “Fuck Daddy, I’m…I’m gonna cum.”

He growls happily, loving how you cum for him. "Good girl." He praises. "Cum for me. Soak my cock and I'll fill you up. Cream up that tight little hole and pump my baby into you." He hisses, feeling his own body start to tighten in anticipation of cumming. "Breed you."

For being something that you’ve written about so many times, the reality of it is so much better. If this turns out to be a kink you’re going to have a brood of York brats in no time.

Dave loves how you come apart for him. The way that you throw your head back, exposing that column of your throat while you cry out his name loudly. Feeling the way your cunt starts to spasm and your body shakes against him. The hot flood of your cum washing over his cock and making everything incredibly wet for the final few thrusts. "God baby." He pants. "So good."

“Cmon Daddy.” He’s so close, you can tell by the way he’s lost his rhythm, and you drag your nails down his chest to scrape over his nipples just right. “Put a baby in me.”

His eyes burst open and the groan of pleasure pours out of his chest. The sharp scrape of your nails just what he needed to push him over the edge, combined with your word makes him lose his mind. Dave whines, pushing deep and the small thrusts just push him deeper, cock painting your walls with his sticky seed as he gasps out your name raggedly.

There’s nothing but uneven breathing and murmured ‘I love you’s for a few minutes, as your hands stroke his skin gently and you pepper his face, neck, and shoulder with kisses. You’d forgotten the feeling of being full of him since it’s been months with condoms, and it makes you sigh happily to think — you might have just grown your family by one more member. But you’ll have to wait to find out.

He hums, sliding back gently and watching his cock slip out of your body, soft and coated with your combined juices. Your lips are swollen slightly, like they are every time the two you fuck, and he grins when he sees the pearlescent dribbles of his seed threaten to push out of your cunt when your walls clench but stays put. "Let me prop those hips up and I'll get you some water." He teases, reaching for his pillow to shove under your hips.

The bedclothes that you just laid out so carefully are rather artistically destroyed, and you pull the sheet up over you once his pillow is under your knees. “No protests,” you tell him when he’s about to open his mouth. “If I’m covered up, I won’t mind laying here longer and the longer I stay like this it increases the chances it will take.”

He doesn't say anything, but he does pout at you. Blowing out a breath but nodding as he climbs off the bed. He won't argue but he has no issue staring at your naked body all night. "I'll get you a bottle of water." He offers, leaning down and kissing your lips before he swipes up his boxers off the floor and slides them on. While the curtains are up in this room, they aren't up around the house yet and he doesn't want the neighbors already hating them. That can come later on.

“Don’t make me miss you too long!” You call after him, giggling a little with your own satisfied happiness as you watch his ass disappear down the hallway toward the stairs. It’s a little surreal, laying here in the bed you know so well but in a totally different room, and with yourself so full of both of your releases that you swear you can feel it.

When he’s gone more than just a few quick minutes you reach to grab your phone out of your shorts from where they are lying discarded on the edge of the bed. Pages upon pages of Pinterest nurseries have been calling your name for months but you haven’t let yourself look yet. Now, though? Now it is not only allowed but welcome. Forest motifs and menageries and whole nautical themes and various sports for parents who are die hard fans. It’s all so cute you want to coo at it, and you wonder how Dave will want to decorate the nursery or if he’s even thought about it.

Downstairs, Dave rushes to find the box that he had made sure that you didn't touch all day. He had labeled it 'Kitchen Shit' knowing that he was going to be the one to unpack all the kitchen equipment. Cutting the box open, he grins down at the book that he had the publisher of your book send him. A special copy they had been more than willing to provide. Taking it out and setting it on the coffee table with a couple of your candles, smirking to himself about your teasing when he had bought you more. Lighting them so that the fragrance starts to fill the air, knowing that he will bring you back down here soon. He grabs the water bottle he had promised and takes the stairs two at a time to get back to you.

“There you are.” When he appears in the doorway again a smile spreads across your face like wildfire. “I was about to come find you.”

"Sorry." He walks over and twists the cap off the bottle to hand it to you. "I got hung up." He doesn't offer more than that, knowing that you will assume that he was just unpacking something in the kitchen. Sliding into the bed beside you, he smirks over at you, your hips still propped up under his pillow. "Comfy?"

“Getting pregnant is going to be fun.” You laugh, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips before you take a drink of water. “Wanna see the Pinterest baby nursery rabbit hole I fell down while you were gone?”

He smiles, having already anticipated your boards you would have pinned and ideas already floating around your head. You were a dreamer, the wants of your life seemingly all coming true now. Dave was a planner, a do-er, and the two of you seemed to complement each other without stifling. "I'd love to." He murmurs, turning so he can see your screen, hand creeping under the sheet to slide across your generous tummy protectively, like you were already pregnant.

“So, I’m only looking at gender neutral ones.” Nuzzling into him is a reflex now, and you tap your phone screen to bring it back to life. “Forests, safaris, zoos, nautical stuff, specifics animals and sports teams…then there’s the specific as hell stuff. Like Wonderland or Neverland. And somehow Old West is a baby room theme?”

"I can see it." Dave grins at your confusion and looks back at the screen. "Which ones do you like?"

“I think I like Neverland.” Flipping open a different tab of your browser, you pull up a few images of nurseries that have combinations of forest and coastal decoration along with themed maps as wall art and plenty of natural colours throughout, preventing gender from becoming the dominant theme. “If they like the lost boys, we can go heavy on the forest and treehouse stuff as they get older, pirate stuff if they like Captain Hook, or even mermaids or fairies if they like Tinkerbell or the Cove the best.” It may have seeped into your brain just a little bit in the last twenty or so minutes. Maybe. “And look at this.” A different browser tab has a page open to an online store selling an area rug with the design as a map of Neverland. “It’s just an idea, obviously. And we can do anything. But this is…it’s sweet. And it’s versatile.”

“I like it.” Dave nods, looking at the designs. “We can get someone in to paint murals on the walls, unless painting is also your thing?”

“Actually?” The smile on your face spreads excitedly. “My dad painted those murals on my bedroom walls at the house in Delaware.” Dave had loved the forest scenes and teased you about wanting to be a fairy when you were a kid. “I bet he’d love it if we asked him to paint for his grandbaby.”

"Then I say we ask him to paint the nursery." Dave had already asked your father to come up and stay for a week or so after the two of you finished moving into the house and setting it up. He had a party planned for the two of you that he knows you would want your father present at. It was surprising that Kate hadn't spilled the secret: the housewarming party is also going to be an engagement party.

“He’ll love that.” You bookmark the rug on your browser and flip back to the myriad of Pinterest pictures with a smile. “And he’ll like the excuse to come visit while I’m pregnant.”

"I have a feeling that your dad is going to be here often." He hums. "I invited him to the housewarming by the way. I didn't think you would mind."

“Oooh, that’s perfect! Thank you, honey.” Your relief at having a father and soulmate that get along is fairly palpable, and Dave gets all the bonus points and appreciative head in the world on the days they golf together.

He snorts and leans in to kiss your cheek. "Of course, baby." He hums, smirking to himself thinking of when you learn that he had planned this out: asking your father for permission to marry you months ago, actually asked the first time he had met the man. Although your father had made him wait until the second golf outing for his answer. Testing him to see if he was patient.

“I love you so much.” Leaning into his embrace, your head rests easily against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat. It’s a gentle, sweet thing until your stomach rumbles and sends both of you into a fit of laughter at the almost cartoonish sound. “Maybe we should order dinner?” You laugh, knowing that the kitchen things haven’t been unpacked yet - and even if they had there isn’t enough food in the house to make a meal of.

"Yeah." He agrees quickly, ready for you to go downstairs so he can do exactly what he's been planning on since you determined the move-in date. "Let's get dressed and order whatever you want."

“Japanese?” More than a few nights sitting on the half-finished floors of this house during the planning and construction phases, dinner had come from the Japanese restaurant a few blocks away. The owner already knows your names and includes extra dipping sauces in with your appetizers.

"That sounds good." He smirks and pulls the covers off of you to slap your thigh playfully. "Make sure to order saké too." He tells you, knowing that he will want to have the Japanese liquor with his sushi. "And eat all the sushi you want before it's banned."

“Should I just order us a bunch of rolls to share and some crab rangoon?” You’re already pulling up the restaurant’s website and signing into your account where all your previous orders are saved, and so much of what you like overlaps that it makes things easy.

"That sounds good to me." Dave nods, picking up your clothes and laying them out for you to get redressed. "But order two of the spicy tuna rolls." He flashes you a grin. "I want one to myself."

“Got it.” A minute or two later you’re crawling out of bed to get dressed again, earning a chuckle from Dave when you pull on the ’I <3 My Army Soulmate’ t-shirt that Katie gifted you instead of the extremely sweaty and gross shirt you had been wearing while unpacking all day.

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out to pinch a nipple. "You like that shirt huh?" He asks, playfully. "It's the third time you've worn that since Kate gave it to you."

“I love you.” You remind him needlessly. “And I’m proud of you.”

“The army is behind me.” He reminds you, leaning in and kissing your temple. “You are my future baby.”

“If you don’t like it, I won’t wear it anymore.” But to you it’s a bit like if one of your old college friends had given him a t-shirt of your alma mater. It’s symbolic of embracing all of him.

“Absolutely not.” Dave reminds himself that you will sometimes take things differently than he means them. “I like it on you. Just wish I met you while I was still in.”

“Sometimes I think about if my parents had moved back to Rhode Island after college instead of staying in Delaware.” Slipping your hand into his, the two of you head for the stairs together. “Some accidental meeting, like you coming to my high school prom with another girl and us meeting that way. Or even at the beach.” You look up at him and offer him a dreamy smile on the stairs. “Maybe I’ll use that for the next book.”

"You should." Dave will always encourage your ideas. "And honestly? I want you to expand on your coffee shop story." He admits with a grin. He treasures that story that you had written for him for Christmas and has re-read it several times.

“That story is just for you.” You tell him honestly. Not even Katie has read it, not because you’re embarrassed of it but because it’s something that you made especially for Dave. “But if you like it that much maybe I’ll write you a little follow-up for your birthday.”

"I would love that." He tells you honestly. "My own personalized story."

Grinning up at him, you stretch to kiss him before turning down the stairs again. The faint smell of your favorite candles meets your nose, and you wonder if maybe he unpacked another box while he was down here getting water, but it’s very obvious what he’s done once you get a look into the living room.

On the coffee table, surrounded by your favorite scented candles - the ones you teased him about getting more of barely a week ago - is the very first copy of your book from your publisher. “Oooh, my god.” You’ve seen pictures of what it will look like, sure, but not an actual book in person yet. “When did this get here?”

"This?" He asks coyly, grinning at you. "This came about two days ago." He admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. "This is a very special copy that I asked the publisher for." He explains.

“Two days?” The pout you send in his direction is so exaggerated that your lip nearly folds in half. The cover is a cabin snow scene with two lovers pictured embracing, and the man is holding a gun behind his back. It’s a quintessential romance genre cover and you could not possibly love it more. The title, Murder Wears a Lab Coat, is scrawled across the top of the cover, and like a movie poster, the inside of the dust cover proclaims: ’Sometimes Chemistry Just Can’t Be Denied!’ But the very best part of the whole thing is something that most people wouldn’t even blink at. ‘by S.H. York’ wouldn’t raise any eyebrows anywhere, but it makes you grin. S.H. for Sweetheart. Although the character, Pedro, calls his girl ‘Angel’.

"Yes, two days." Dave scrunches his nose at you and reaches out to pick up the book, caressing the cover and taking a deep breath before he hands it to you. "I thought you would appreciate this, considering this was the story you were developing as we fell in love. It's our love story."

“Of course it’s our story. That’s why it’s dedicated to you.” The volume feels a little lighter than you expected in your hands, but it’s probably just a trick of your mind. The thing is so weighty and important to you that you expect it to be heavy as marble.

"Open it up." He orders you softly, waiting until you are looking down at it and opening the cover before he shifts off the sofa to kneel down beside you, making the transition smoothly so you don't notice him doing it.

It’s not as though you don’t know every single word inside this book. You put them all there yourself. But the urge to read through everything and cherish it all is strong, so you open the cover like he suggests. Flipping past the title page, you’re met with the sight of a hollow square cut out of your very first novel - inside of which sits a black velvet box. “Oh my god…” That box has been sitting in your father’s safety deposit box for almost your entire life. You’d know it anywhere. When you look over at Dave to try to sputter out a full sentence your jaw drops and tears fill your eyes almost instantly at the sight of him on one knee beside you.

"You are my soulmate, sweetheart." Dave murmurs, reaching out and taking one of your hands to hold gently. "I was curious about you from the moment that I recognized your tattoo. Hell, I've been curious about you my entire life, wondering what kind of woman that the universe had decided would be mine." He gives you a smile, squeezing your hand. "I have not been disappointed, in fact, I've been amazed at how wonderful of a woman you are. You are too good for me, but for some reason, you love me." He chuckles and reaches out to pluck the ring box out of the book and opens it. "Sweetheart, would you marry me?"

Of all the times you imagined this - every crazed and overblown scenario or all the different little slice-of-life ways you thought it might one day happen - Dave has blown them all out of the water yet again. He’s been better for you than anyone you could ever have imagined, no matter how active that writer’s brain of yours has been over the years. You, however, are much less articulate than your dreams. Hiccupping out an immediate “Yes!” through tears before diving forward to kiss him with every ounce of love you have in you. Your mother’s ring – your ring - can wait. This moment is just you and Dave.

Easily wrapping his arms around you, the hollowed-out book is crushed between the two of you and the ring box is held in his fist while he kisses you. Enjoying the joy and eagerness in your kiss, as well as the salty taste of your tears - only because he knows they are tears of joy.

“I love you.” Murmured against his lips is the best way to make that declaration, and it practically vibrates through you as you hold him against you. “I love you so, so much, Dave York. And I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”

"Well, that's a good thing..." He muses, pulling back to give you another grin. "Because I've already told everyone that our housewarming party is also an engagement party." He confesses.

“Everyone?” You can’t help but laugh, shocked that no one had spilled the beans yet. Deirdre and Ari are legendarily bad at holding in excitement about surprises. “That…that’s why Dad’s coming isn’t it?” You sniffle and press in to kiss him again. “How are you so perfect?”

"That's why dad's coming." Dave confirms. "He has to make sure that even though I've asked permission to marry you, that I'm not pushing you too fast." He huffs, rolling his eyes over your overprotective dad.

"And someday, when we have a little girl, you might find yourself just as dead-set on watching over her." The name Alice Diana has cemented itself in your psyches and you've definitely caught yourself referring to your future daughter by name in dreaming with Katie from time to time.

"No doubt." He snorts, fully aware that he would be an overprotective father. He knows exactly what kind of monsters roam the world.

You grin at him, eyes glistening with happy tears. "You're going to see me doing everything with my left hand out for about the next month solid. Every single person I interact with is going to know I found my soulmate."

"Well, first we have to put the ring on your finger." He teases, pulling the box out from around you and plucking the ring out to place it on your hand. "Finger me." He jokes, holding out his hand for yours.

"I think I said that to you this morning." Despite dissolving into giggles, you manage to situate your hand in his and shed a few more excited tears as he slips the ring onto your finger.

"You did and I did." He smirks and leans in to kiss your hand, rubbing the back of your hand. "I remember the neighbor beating on the wall again."

"It was a very nice apartment, but I already love this house." You tug him back up on the sofa to sit beside you, immediately snuggling under his arm. "The next-door neighbors at the apartment would probably throttle us if they had to listen to all the noise we're going to make trying to get pregnant."

"Considering you're ovulating, we might not be trying as much as you think we will be." Dave chuckles, tightening his hold on you.

The fact that he keeps track of your cycle is one of those things that surprised you at first, but you gradually came to think of as just very organized and very Dave. "It'll be celebration sex, then," you tell him matter-of-factly. "And that'll be just as frequent."

"Oh, you know that will happen." Dave assures you. "It's going to be open season, especially if you’re horny during your pregnancy." If you weren't, Dave would just have to jerk off for twelve months.

"If I'm not, we're both going to be extremely upset." You're snuggling into him for another kiss when your phone starts to ring, the phone number of the restaurant's delivery phone popping up on your caller ID. "I want to get it!" You insist immediately, practically jumping up when your phone starts buzzing. "First ever chance to do anything as an engaged woman."

Dave laughs, happy that you are ecstatic to be his fiancée. He watches you answer the phone with a smile on your face, looking back at him and sending him a wink. Less than a year ago, a standard job had brought him into your orbit. Hurdled him into yours and turning it upside down. You had gone from a terrified, meek woman who was horrified at what her soulmate was, to this confident, proud woman who was happy to proclaim him as yours for all the world to see. You have completely changed his life and he couldn't be happier. The copy of your book is sitting proudly on the coffee table, where it will be joined by many others over the coming years. All thanks to your killer writing.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives

KW: @evyiione @graphitegator @bruxasolta @missredherring @writeforfandoms @sj-draws00 @whiskeyshoneybee @randeerenae @pagannightwitch @what-iwish-you-knew @mrsparknuts @harriedandharassed

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dave York #Dave York x reader #Dave York x you #Dave York x female reader #plus size reader #Equalizer 2 #Soulmate au #Dave York pit #suburban murder daddy #epilogue

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smarchit · 2 years

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Ghost Writer, chapter 3

You've agreed to write another letter to the Riddler, who seems to have taken a shine to you. Edward, of course, is more than willing to help you... He'd do anything for you, after all.

(no use of y/n as usual, Dano!riddler x reader)

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, canon-typical violence, mildly obsessive behavior.

After a quick stop at the liquor store to buy a bottle of whatever was cheapest, you were bounding up the three flights of stairs to your apartment door. The near constant drizzle outside had turned into a torrential downpour as you and Edward neared your building, and you both were completely soaked by the time you punched in the security code outside the building.

You swore and fumbled with your keys before the door swung open into your home. Had you been anticipating a guest, you would have tidied up a little. But honestly, the scattered papers and coded messages probably excited Edward, as he was staring at them before he even got his wet shoes off. At your request, he tugged off his socks too and he laid them over the radiator beside your own.

"Hand me your jacket," you said after you dumped your belongings onto your kitchen counter. "I'll hang it up."

Edward was already staring at a few pieces of codes you had pulled off of the internet. He let his coat slide from his surprisingly broad shoulders while he examined a few pages of codes that you taped together and hung near the entryway.

"These codes are fascinating, aren't they?" Edward asked when you came over to collect his coat. His eyes never left the coded messages taped to the wall across from your couch. He stared blankly at them through raindrop spattered lenses. His russet locks had turned dark in the rain and water dripped down his forehead and onto his cheeks. "What do you think about the Riddler?"

You snorted through your nose a bit as you started to gather and stack empty Top Noodle cups from around your living room.

"I think it's unfair that he's playing the most gruesome version of connect the dots with all the murders, and somehow I get stuck working overtime writing one article for my own job and then another to him," you grumbled as you walked into the kitchen. You tossed the styrofoam cups into the trash and smashed the pile with your hand and used your foot to return the bin to its place under the sink. When you lifted your head to look at him, he was looking at a picture of the "favor" the Riddler had left you the day after you had sent your first puzzle. He had left you a pair of mismatched eyeballs in a velvet box from the most expensive jeweler in Gotham. The card attached read, "You've really caught my eye." You shuddered as you washed your hands. "Not to mention these little favors he leaves for me! I can't tell if he's toying with me or trying to romance me. I mean most guys send girls flowers or buy them a drink when they want their attention."

"Or give them a compliment," Edward said with that tight smile as he turned to you. He held the photocopy of your article from the paper where the Riddler scrawled "niña bonita" under your picture.

"Jesus," you whispered. You crossed the room in a few strides, drying your hands on your sweater as you went, and snatched the picture from his hands. You sunk down onto your couch, still staring at the picture in your hands. "Oh my god, Edward! What? He paid me a compliment! I thought he was tormenting me like a mouse on a string!"

You stared at the picture for a moment before you sighed heavily and got to your feet. You went back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the paper bag and two glasses. Before you returned to the couch, you pulled two sodas from the fridge. When you slid back onto the couch, you handed one of each to Edward and set the bottle on the coffee table.

"I can't keep writing these letters," you said to him after you quickly downed two shots. "I can't keep wondering if he's going to kill me in my sleep, or on my way to work. Or at work. If I die at work, I'm going to be so pissed."

Edward laughed at that, a high, breathy sound that even brought a smile to your face. He accepted the shot you poured for him and set it back on the table before he turned to you with a small frown. "You're going to stop writing the letters in the paper?"

You sighed and took another shot. "I don't know. I know I didn't have to start doing it in the first place. I guess part of me wants to know what this guy's motives are. Maybe if I knew that, I'd stop sleeping with a knife under my pillow."

Edward smiled sadly and looked down at his lap as he twisted his fingers around one another. His brows knitted together and he chewed on his lip for a moment before he shook his head.

"I don't think you should stop writing the letters," he said quietly after a moment.

You glanced over at him and raised a brow. While you hadn't really meant it, you sort of wished there was more anonymity behind the letters GCPD had you writing. It would have been more comforting to know your name wasn't attached to the cryptic messages to a killer. You noticed that Edward was trembling slightly and you pulled a crocheted blanket off the back of the couch and draped it around his shoulders.

He stiffened for a moment when your hand brushed his cheek before he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of your detergent. After a moment, he got a small smile on his face and pressed his nose to the coarse material.

You smiled and folded your legs beneath you as you got more comfortable on the couch.

"Don't worry," you said. You gave his thigh a friendly tap and smiled as Edward jumped at your touch. "I'll write them as long as the city needs them. Besides, I have a great helper."

Edward turned to look at you, his cheeks tinged pink, and then he smiled. He gave another look at your walls, covered in codes and ciphers, before he leaned back and visibly relaxed into the cushions.

"Should we, uh, get started?" Edward kept the blanket around his shoulders and leaned forward to grab the legal pad and a pen off of your table.

"Do you mind if I actually work on my next article for a little?" you asked as you picked up your laptop. "I was going to work on it earlier but, uh..."

Edward shook his head. "No, not at all. I can get started on your next letter if you want. The code, I mean."

"That would be so great," you said. "Do you mind if I put the news on while we work?"

"No, that's okay. This is your house."

You smiled and flipped on the TV. You didn't even have to change the channel - the only thing you watched these days was the news.

You and Edward worked in a comfortable silence for a while, occasionally making light conversation, the silence between small talk filled with the roar of the storm outside.

You quickly glanced up at the TV when a breaking news bulletin shot across the screen. Usually the bulletins ended with your boss giving you a call no matter what time it was. Hopefully you would get lucky tonight and the honor would fall to some other poor unlucky bastard. The clip started with the police commissioner looking grim while he addressed the frantic crowd of reporters and civilians in front of him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, earlier today, we received a 911 call from the Gotham Globe office here in town. When officers arrived, they discovered the body of Paul Holtzhauer, dead from a gunshot wound to the chest. At this time, no suspects have been named, nor has anyone come forward to take credit for his murder. If anyone has any information, we ask that you call the police. We will continue our investigation and will share more information when it comes to light. Thank you."

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, "I used to work for that guy! I guess that explains the call I got earlier. The Riddler strikes again!"

Edward looked over as you reacted to the news. He had an almost bored look on his face, until you looked over at him, and he quickly shifted into concern and shock.

"It's honestly about time someone took that creep out," you said as you saved the draft of your article and shut down your laptop. "He was always trying to look down ladies' blouses at the office. Handsy little freak. I heard from my friend Angela that he got caught up in the coattails of the Maroni drug bust too."

Edward smiled and looked down at the cipher in his hands. "Is that why you quit the Globe?"

You unfolded yourself from the couch and stood with a groan. "Partially that, partially the pay. Mostly because he didn't have an ounce of respect for me. I didn't let him pull that perv shit on me and he gave me garbage fluff articles as punishment. I mean who wants to read about the density of the stray cat population in downtown Gotham compared to uptown? So I quit."

"I'm glad you quit," he replied. "You're an amazing writer and the world deserves to read your work."

You smiled and felt your cheeks grow warm under his praise. It wasn't too often someone acknowledged your hard work, and it felt nice to hear from someone who appreciated you.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. "I hope to have more work published in the future. Maybe a book or something."

Edward shuffled towards you, the stack of unpublished Riddler letters in his hands. "Maybe you could publish these. They're wonderful."

You smiled and took them from him. You touched his hands when you did so, and the quiet gasp from him made your smile grow wider.

"Maybe," you hummed as you leafed through the letters. "Would I publish the uncoded ones? Or---"

"The coded ones," Edward said. He moved closer and you felt his breath fan across your cheeks. His breathing was quick and at this proximity, you noticed he smelled faintly like sanitizer and coffee. "Make them figure it out for themselves. Like he does."

You laughed dryly and nodded. "Yeah, I'd be lucky to even get any publisher outside of Gotham to even look at them."

"You could publish them yourself," he murmured with a shrug. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. "A lot of people would buy it. There's online communities who would be interested, especially if it's about the Riddler."

You thought about it for a moment and then smiled. It didn't seem like that bad of a deal, even if it would be pandering to the fan base of a murderer. True crime was a hot topic right now.

"I'd need your help," you said. You reached down and entwined your fingers with Edward's. His hand was still so cold and dry in your gentle grasp. After a moment, his fingers twitched and his grip tightened in yours.

Edward nodded his head slowly. "I'll do anything you want me to do," he said almost breathlessly. "I'll do anything for you."

#the batman #the riddler #dano riddler #riddler x reader #riddler x you #my writing

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sweetbunnykook · 3 years

Text

Only You (9)

Word Count: 13,197 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack), smut (period sex, cunnilungus, blowjob, throatpie, body worship, mommy kink), brief fluff, toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

A/N: If you are still reading this series, I wish you the best of luck. Please leave a review if you can and let me know your thoughts. - 🐰

You were every mother’s blessing – kind, caring, intelligent, obedient. She watched you stumble and fall many times but you manage to catch your footing with a smile. Despite your yearning for independence, your mother kept you in her embrace as all mothers do. In some ways, it would be loving; things like helping you choose the venue for your wedding and holding your hand while you inquire about using chiffon instead of silk for your veil. You were such a wonderful daughter that she didn’t wish for a son even when you decided to carve your own path rather than follow your father’s footsteps into medicine and entrepreneurship.

It’s why your mother sits in the parking lot of your apartment complex, dumbfounded beyond belief, teeth gritted. She looks up at your window to see Jungkook staring back down at her, unable to read him. She holds his steel hard gaze, daring him to look away or pull the curtains close.

He doesn’t take the bait.

Pulling the shifting gear and rolling out of the parking lot, she peels her eyes away and takes several deep breaths.

There is no way on God’s green Earth that you fell in love with a middle-class photographer. Of all people, of all the men in your circle, affluent men coming from money both new and old, you couldn’t have fallen for a lowly photographer who doesn’t care about you enough to know his place and leave you be. How could Jungkook not know that you aren’t meant to live like this? How could he be so selfish as to hope for marriage when he could barely afford the ring he wants to slip onto your finger?

Your mother throws back her head and cackles. The only reason you were able to study abroad during college, the only reason why you could walk into an upscale neighborhood and look like you belong there, is because she followed the natural way. She never loved your father, not even once, but he was a good husband and an even better financial asset. Not only did she not have to lift a finger after tying the knot, but she also became part of the untouchables.

There’s a sense of power and invincibility that comes with wealth. It comes softly, like a whisper of wind that keeps a dandelion intact; it’s invisible to the eyes but she can feel it when she shakes hands with politicians, celebrities, businessmen and women, important people doing important things.

It took nearly twenty years of work. Getting close to the Kims, making sure you attend the same school as their children, running into Namjoon when you visit their vacation home, and letting his parents witness what a great wife you would be for him – it was all going so well. Puberty treated you well enough too that she didn’t need to consider getting you minor cosmetic procedures when you graduated high school. Sure, you could lose a few more pounds, but you were healthy and fit to give the Kims, and her, the grandchildren who will guarantee a new generation of wealth and prosperity. Gone are the days when she could only dream about creating the perfect family, respected by the social circle and the general public. You, her lifelong project, made it all come true.

Yet, life proves to be cruel once again.

As soon as she set her eyes on Yori she knew she was trouble. She didn’t object when you stayed out later and wore a bit more makeup than what was deemed graceful for a woman of your age. She knew that if she’d raised her voice, you would be compelled to rebel (it didn’t help that you were as stubborn and thick-skinned as your father). However, she wanted to warn you, just a tiny bit, that Yori is the kind of girl whose eyes strayed to find a new target and you were a hair away from standing right in the middle of that mark. She knew, because Yori had the kind of eyes she had as a twenty-year-old woman who climbed that very same social ladder.

You were such a good daughter, so intelligent and transparent, that she believed you would have the backbone to come into your mother’s arms at the first sign of danger. It looks like you were just as clueless as the rest of the sheep you called your bridesmaids.

A Jeep honks from the next lane as she swerves into the street and bangs on the steering wheel with the heel of her hand, her Cartier bracelets clanking together in unity. The light turns yellow and she stomps on the accelerator, lurching the vehicle forward.

At the end of the day, she knew it was her fault. She could have warned you earlier, planted seeds of doubt in your mind, even pull Namjoon back into your arms if you realized soon enough; but alas, your day was chosen to be one of desolation and misfortune. Her poor daughter, the apple of her eye, the one precious gem of a person who would propel the family into royalty, whisked right away from under her nose.

She shakes her head, tires screaming as she veers into the next semi-busy lane, watching the sun disappear into the horizon as the familiar roads darken.

Letting you mourn on your own terms was the biggest mistake of her life, second to not following her gut feeling and keeping Yori away from you. She knew about this photographer lover of yours who has the face of an angel and seem to follow you like a puppy wherever you go. From a distance, she’d watched you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with such fervor in a public space she felt bile rise for the first time looking at you – her most precious creation acting like a hussy for all to see.

The boy seemed to be in love with you as much as you depended on him. She waited until you would be sick of him like the ones you took to bed after the wedding night (yes, she knew about your shameful conquests). She waited countless nights, praying that you would come to your senses, that you won’t refuse her advances, until months later she sees you living with him and sharing meals and completely forgetting about her. Yes, she had been mainly focused on making sure the investors haven’t pulled out and that you still had a name for yourself after the wedding. It wasn’t an ideal response as a mother because you needed help and she knew you’d throw a hissy fit but you must understand that while you had been taking men to bed, she had been busting her ass saving what’s left of the family pride.

The Kims also attempted to salvage your reputation, but they won’t do so at the cost of Namjoon’s name. The true reality is that parents will only care for their own blood in the end.

It’s why she finds herself confused and drenched with sweat when the car halts in front of the white villa lined with jasmine bushes. There’s a new gate installed, probably to keep away reporters during the first few weeks after the wedding incident hit the papers, and it momentarily angered her that she must now ask an intercom to enter a space that should have been a gift to you from the Kims.

Her hands tighten around the steering wheel with the intent to squeeze something warm and pulsing. She still remembered the day Yori knelt on the floor of your dressing room and she still remembered the strands of hair that squeezed her fingertips as she tore the whore’s flower hair clip off her head. The yelling, the panic, the uproar, the whispers that came from the guests – it was humiliation to the tenth degree.

Wiping the bead of sweat off her temples with the back of her hand, your mother hushes the engine and places the key in her coat. She steps out of the vehicle and marches up to the gate and buzzes in, huffing when her heels wobble on the cobblestone steps.

A few heartbeats later, Yori’s voice pours through her ears and reached into the crevices of her scalp like a dull headache.

“Hello?”

She leans forward. “It’s me.”

There’s a long pause before the gates click open and the stone stairway up to the front door reveals itself with a moist gleam. The garden sprinklers die down just as she steps onto the platform and makes her way up to the front door where Yori is leaning against, one hand on her stomach, the other hand tucking her fringe away from her face. She notes that the knitted silk dress, tied above the swell of her belly, is from the latest Prada collection.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she smiles. “Come in. Welcome to my home. I apologize for the mess…I had a baby shower earlier today and help is gone for the rest of the week.”

Your mother wanted to rip that smug grin off her face but she kept her eyebrows still and her lips soft.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

She walks into the spacious living room, eyes quickly glancing at the stacks of presents on the couch and the empty bottles of sparkling water and champagne sitting on the coffee table. She can recognize, just from the color of the boxes, that the gifts were not cheap. Had you married Namjoon, this would have been your palace.

“I’m in the middle of decorating the nursery. If you don’t mind…” Yori says, not bothering to look back as she makes her way up the stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to see that steam is coming out of your mother’s ears. “Can you help me with unrolling the mat in the hallway? I can’t bend over very well.”

Your mother trails behind in place of answering, watching Yori’s hip swing side to side as she makes her way up the stairs and then turn to leer down at the older woman. It’s a bit laughable, Yori thinks, as your mother pretends not to ogle at the stacks of Tiffany blue boxes tucked beside the living room couch like shoeboxes. Her face flushes when she meets Yori’s eyes once more but she doesn’t comment as she follows the young woman into the hallway just a few feet away from the stairs. Her head turns at the smell of fresh paint to see the nursery on her left, the door left open as if the room expected her arrival.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Yori fixes her fringe once more. “He needed to attend a conference in Ginza. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

“There’s no need.” She leers at the stacks of presents next to the crib. More aquamarine boxes, all neatly stacked according to size with the smallest at the top.

The younger woman leans against the tall, heavy vase next to the wall leading into the hallway to the East wing. “If you say so.”

There’s no reason for your mother to be here. It should be you instead, coming back to tie loose ends and perhaps inquire about Namjoon’s injuries if you cared enough. Compared to your mother, you didn’t have much of a backbone when it comes to relationships and it makes it so easy for men to take what they want and go. It’s what made you a bore, what gave Yori the power to pull Namjoon right into her bed and have him calling her name like a prayer.

“Did you forget basic manners?” Your mother finally snaps, beady eyes darting from side to side to admire the nursery that could have been a snapshot from a furniture magazine. “Not even offering a glass of water?”

Yori only smiles, motioning to the unrolled mat slumped against the wall, adjacent from the staircase.

“I assumed whatever you wanted say would be quick as you came uninvited. You’d probably think the water is poisoned even if I offered any way.”

The older woman glances at the rug – no doubt imported from Dubai with its elegant coloring and silk touch – then walks over to it before tracing her fingers around the rolled edges. She shouldn’t have accepted to do such demeaning housework but given how she pulled into the driveway unannounced and that the woman is heavily pregnant with no help around, it was only fair. She may have left behind her patience with Jungkook but not her manners.

“Why did you have to pick that day to tell her?”

Yori’s eyebrows raised just slightly before falling back down to its former position. She puts a hand over her stomach and walks towards the giant vase again, rubbing her fingers over the cool lacquered surface. Namjoon’s parents had a thing for porcelain she just couldn’t wrap her head around.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you wait until the marriage ceremony to tell her you were screwing her husband?”

“Husband?” She cocks her head to the side with an incredulous widening of her pupils. “Last time I checked he only had a fiancée he rarely saw who ran away with some pretty photographer the first chance she got. I’d say that’s far from married.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Answer the question,” she looks down, chin trembling. The world is falling apart, her dreams are nothing but a pebble in quicksand, and you no longer cared. “Please.”

Yori watches, in a way one watches a fly buzzing around a piece of fruit, the older woman bring her hands together in front of her like it has taken all her energy to ask such a question. Maybe for a moment she considers telling the woman the truth. She considers telling her that you broke her heart first, that you had the world succumbing to your every need, that your mother’s greed doesn’t only belong to her but you too because you made Seokjin your lap dog while Namjoon promised you a future. She considers telling her about the night she saw you laying like a swooning damsel in distress as Seokjin – the only man she had to beg for attention – suckle your tits like you were getting paid for it. She considers telling your mother that her daughter is the two-faced whore here, not her. She considers telling her that you touched what belonged to someone else first.

But what difference would it make? What would it change? The baby is still due in a handful of weeks, Namjoon is set to take over the company once he gets his shit together and his nose heals, and you’re perfectly happy with a new and exciting boyfriend of yours. The truth doesn’t set anyone free, it just makes sure the shackles aren’t too tight.

Yori turns her moist eyes away towards the living room downstairs. She walks over to the railing, resting her wrist on the copper before she stares down at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table with utmost disgust, as if she can still smell the overly sweet frosting with too much blue and pink dye. Catching her voice, she brings the smile back onto her face.

“I picked that day,” she turns her head, just slightly to catch your mother’s expression. “Just because I wanted to watch her look as pathetic as you do now.”

Your mother’s lips part, hands falling to her sides.

“It just happened. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s…all?”

Yori chuckles, her empty gaze falling back down to the cake. “That’s all.”

Years of planning, years of giving you the best education the country has to offer, years of making sure you never have to suffer as she had, years of shaking hands and kissing the ground the Kims walk on, only for this girl without new or old money to come and…

Before your mother can think, she lunges forward and grabs Yori by the ends of her hair, twisting the locks around her wrist as the younger woman gasps and shrieks. Her swollen stomach hits your mother’s side as she screeches and uses both hands to grab at her taught hair, pulling away to place as much distance she can. The heel of her ankle catches the edge of the first step and she watches the older woman’s eyes widen as she slams, back first, into the steps and then bounce off the next step as her jaw and skull slams into the copper pipe railing. Yori’s stomach hits the corners of the last several steps before the swell of her belly squeezes inwards, the final gurgling scream ripping out of her throat as her vision turns black and the house falls in silence.

It all happened so fast. Your mother watches with her hands over her ears, chest pounding and bracelets clattering as her limbs turn cold and her knees buckle.

Her eyes widen, more and more, as the pool of blood around Yori’s head expands until there lays maroon halo around her crown. She’s lying flat on her stomach and it takes another moment for the trembling woman to realize that, in the silence save for her own labored breathing, the bump is no longer there.

“Oh my god…”

Curling over to the side, your mother’s jaw falls open and the remnants of her early lunch spills over one of Yori’s shoes ledged between the railing and the first step. She empties her stomach until there is nothing left, her knuckles white as she grips the railing for support. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she descends down the staircase, back pressed against the wall and eyes darting from the body to the tinted windows with burgundy curtains tied to the side. When she reaches the body, she trips over Yori’s limp feet as she quickly dashes to the living room to draw the curtains close, her neck craning from side to side as she finds any opening where an imaginary eye might witness the ultimate sin. It was only when she finds herself in the kitchen, washing her hands that she realized she had, in fact, stolen two lives.

Yori, and the baby who never had the chance to see daylight.

…

You’re sitting in a bathroom stall, turning over the small flash drive between your fingers when you hear the clattering of heels against polished tile and the sound of handbags slumping on the counter. One of the women walks into the stall next to yours, undoing the tampon wrapper as if she were scouring for the winning lottery number written on the string.

“Did you see Jin with her again?” The woman outside of the stall says and you recognize her by voice. She works for the accounting department and regularly walks into your office for weekly reports.

“I was keeping an eye of him. It’s annoying that they work together now so he’s always all over her.”

No doubt this conversation is about you.

“Tell me about it. I bet they’re fucking, you saw how he looked at her.”

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” The toilet flushes and you can hear her shrugging her skirt back up to her thighs.

You hear a gasp. “Oh my god, you’re right. It’s that young guy who keep bringing her lunch, right? She didn’t break up with him?”

The stall opens and both women are in front of the counter. You’re stuck in your seat, not knowing whether to kick open the door or to interrupt the conversation but with Seokjin’s flash drive in your clammy hands, you struggle to even breathe.

“They’re still together. Looks like that photographer dick is too good to give up for the office hunk.”

They laugh like hyenas – that high, shrieking kind of laugh that makes their red lipstick bleed onto the corners of their mouths.

“They’re so out of her league. What do they even see in her? She’s painfully average. The only thing she’s got going on is a good wardrobe.”

You keep your head lowered when they walk past your stall as if they could see you. They pull on the paper towel lever until they can rip a generous piece and wipe their hands.

“She’s rich. She’s probably only working here because it keeps her humble or some bullshit like that. You know how girls with daddy’s money are, thinking they’re doing charity for working like the rest of us-”

You don’t hear the rest of their conversation, glad that your face no longer feels hot but you’re angered all the same. Jungkook’s visits, for this reason, had made you nervous in the beginning because you know they’ll talk and come up with their own little villain fantasy about you. It doesn’t bother you as you keep work separate from life (something Jungkook had been interrupting much to your discomfort) but hearing it in person ignited the kind of angry tears that has you cursing at yourself for letting yourself be disturbed by it.

You grab your handbag off the hook, place the flash drive back in your pocket, and unlock the stall before pushing the door open. You wash your hands in haste as the air had become suffocating in the aftermath of the two women. Wiping your wet hands down your black slacks, you let your wavy hair down and let it frame your face to hide your flushed cheeks, making sure that your eyes are no longer moist and your nose isn’t pink. What a way to end a workday.

When you arrive back at the office, most of your coworkers are gone except for the new interns organizing papers for tomorrow and the occasional workaholics making coffee in the makeshift cafeteria. You just hope you won’t run into the two women if they choose to swing by for whatever reason but, thankfully, it was never a common occurrence. They never did above the bare minimum any way.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you slump back down your office chair, squeezing your nose bridge as a wave of exhaustion wracks havoc in your pulsing head.

“There are some more sandwiches in the fridge, please help yourself if you’d like.” A student intern says as she carries a crumpled file under one arm, peering from above your divider.

“Oh!” You exclaim, your head darting towards the room Sora left in a mess before turning back to the girl. “Thank you, I’ll help myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gives a short nod before leaving, the glass door squeaking as the office once again is filled with the sound of coffee machines whirring and papers shredding.

The USB flash drive sits heavy in your pocket as you wave goodbye to the last person leaving your department with a cup of coffee. She nods, smiling, and pushes out the heavy glass door and you silently hope she won’t forget to return the mug before leaving the building. You listen to the clacking of her heels fading before turning back to the work computer still logged into your account. The saturated blue screen is harsh on your vision and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut, turning to look at the clock on the wall momentarily to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook can call at any minute as your shift is coming to an end.

Maybe it would be easier to do this with your phone turned off but knowing him, he would worry enough to drive over to make sure you’re safe.

Within the gray walls that surround your cubicle, you should feel secure. Yet, some part of you wonders if he would suddenly appear behind you and wrap you in his arms before asking you what you’re up to. In this nightmare of a scenario, you can also feel the antagonizing gaze of the two women.

Looking back down at the USB, you’ve come to realize that you have bigger things to worry about. Some part of you feels just as disgusting as a cheater taking off her ring in the presence of another man.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

You’ve rehearsed the same mantra in your head at least a hundred times within the same hour (before you had the unfortunate chance to overhear that unpleasant conversation) and it sickens you that this is a phrase that Namjoon would have used to justify his time with Yori. It’s a cheater’s mentality – a cowardly way of shifting responsibility away from themselves without considering the consequences when the truth comes to light.

With a sigh, you pull the flash drive out of your pocket and flip the black casing open until the lid hangs off its hinges to reveal the silver end. You look around once more, taking a deep breath, and push the end into the appropriate slot of the system unit. The USB flashes a neon green light, pulsing as it loads, before it dims and a small ping pulls your attention back to the screen.

The file explorer window expands, showing a ZIP file among an array of photos that had you squinting to observe. You jolt straight from the seat as your phone rings. Cursing under your breath as you note an incoming call. You’re just about to turn back to the screen when you recognize that the number flashing across your screen isn’t Jungkook’s but your mother’s. She never called at this time and if she did, she would have texted you first to make sure you weren’t in a meeting.

Just as you reach for the phone, it stops ringing and you contemplate turning it off. But something tells you you should have taken the call. When the phone rings again, causing you to flinch, you let it vibrate twice before swiping across the screen.

In exactly five minutes, you will regret ever picking up the call. In ten minutes, you’re running for your life.

…

Jungkook paces back and forth with his thumb between his teeth. If he bit his nails any shorter, he would pierce through skin. Your voice still rings in his ear as you cry into the phone, your tires screaming through the speaker as you speed through the streets back to the apartment. He’s sick with worry, wondering if you crashed into a tree of if you decided – on a whim – to handle this situation yourself. Because you called him immediately after you left work, he has a feeling you wouldn’t do anything stupid but today has been especially unpredictable.

First, your mother coming to meet him. Second, the same woman pushing Yori down the stairs and threatening you to take care of it. If he’d heard you correctly, the old wench even mentioned she would make his life a living hell if you don’t head over immediately. Some mother you are. It pisses him off to no end that you had to live with her for half of your life but it makes him even more upset that you’ve been hiding your mother’s behavior, throwing excuses about how much she worries when she’d call in the mornings and leave voicemails that you delete without listening.

He changes into a pair of jeans and an old university sweatshirt that is a bit too tight on the cuffs. When he hears the sound of your heels clack on the other side of the door, he barely had the time to wrap his head around such a God-given opportunity.

As soon as the door swings open you’re falling into his arms, wracked with sobs as he engulfs your entire torso in his arms. He presses your head further below his neck, reaching behind you to grab his coat off the hanger and wrap it around you before kicking the door close in case a neighbor passes by. You can’t bear to lift your head, trembling as your teeth chatter and your pupils are wide with fear. He’s never seen you like this – not even during the wedding night – and it makes his insides squeeze as if someone had reached in him and pressed a hand against his organs.

“I-I don’t know w-” you sob, “I don’t know w-what to do. I can’t breathe. Jungkook-”

He hushes you softly, threading his fingers through your hair with his thumbs curling around your ear. He tilts your head up towards his gaze, watching your tears trail down your face and onto the coat. Between gasps, you’re wailing, your throat tightened to the point that even his name sounds like nails on chalkboard on your lips.

“Noona, you have to breathe for me. Inhale,” he brings air into his nostrils as demonstration, “and exhale. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, swallowing first before you mimic and close your eyes. Jungkook brings a hand up to your chest, digging underneath the coat to feel it pounding against your ribcage.

“Keep breathing, noona. It’s going to be okay, keep breathing.” He rubs his warm palm over the chiffon and you find yourself leaning your forehead against his chest in exhaustion.

You wish you could stay in his embrace forever. Locked inside this warm and unassuming apartment, away from your mother, away from the past that has now resurfaced in the worst way imaginable – you wish you can curl into his arms and never leave. That…or you just want the world to swallow you in a deep well and leave you to starve.

“We have to tell the police.” You tremble. You can’t imagine the repercussions, not to mention the heartache of seeing your mother behind bars. She’d rather hang herself than end up in prison, you know that much. You’d sworn to your father before his passing that you’d keep her safe and you’re already thinking of running away.

“Noona…”

“We do. We…I have to. I-I mean it was an accident,” you’re suddenly peeling yourself away from him, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “They’ll give her m-maybe three or four years at most, right? If it was an accident it won’t be…”

Jungkook comes up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing up and down. You’re shaking again, tears streaming even quicker than before and the nausea is causing you to falter from side to side.

“Kookie, I don’t know what to do. Please tell me what to do, I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.”

He places his forehead against the crown of your head, staring into the distance. You feel his fingers tighten around your arm before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his weight upon your collarbones.

“Do you trust me, noona?” He whispers.

The fridge hums in the distance. You nod.

“Yes…I trust you. With my life.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your body, slowly, as if you were anticipating a monster and not a man, until you can look up at his face. He’s rubs his thumbs over your tears and moves down to your chapped lips, swollen and pink from your incessant gnawing. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale, keeping your eyes locked onto his loving eyes. He looks so angelic under the kitchen lights, the yellow bulbs blurred by the moisture in your eyes to form a halo around his long fringe. His hair is parted in the middle to form a curtain around his structured face, casting a shadow over his eyes in the semi-darkness. You can’t see him clearly with the lights behind him but you can sense his confidence, his reassuring grip on your cheeks; he’s no longer the boy from the night before but a man who is willing to keep the promise he made to you.

“I can help you.” He whispers softly once more, his voice lowered. “If you take me to the body…I can help you, noona.”

He holds your gaze, his thumbs still rubbing softly over your cheeks as if to coax the words into your skin. The implication isn’t lost on you but your body reacts first, fingers shaking as a fresh wave of sweat prickles down your back.

“W-What do you…” you trail off as your breathing grows heavy. Jungkook puts a hand on your chest once more as he did before, rubbing softly over your chest to calm your pounding heart.

He holds you close, breathing in your skin once more as his own eyes sting with unshed tears. Fate is a terrible thing and for every moment of bliss with you, he must pay the price; except, this price is a new opportunity to secure you by his side and earn your mother’s silent approval. It’s okay, Jungkook thinks, he can do this for you. He has the resources, the will, the strength, the plans – the only thing he can’t predict is your mental well-being in the aftermath.

Will you lose respect for him? Will you still love him? One thing he was sure of was that this was the only chance to keep your mother from arranging a marriage partner for you. He must go through it to not only save your sanity, your mother, but your answer when he puts one knee on the ground and opens the velvet box he keeps on top of the fridge for the perfect time. Oh how the universe responded so quickly to the day’s worries.

“Back then…when you said you would…”

Kill

“…You would do that for me. You really meant it, baby?”

Jungkook brings your head back under his chin and keeps you there, rocking from side to side as if to lull you to sleep.

“I meant every word. I’m not afraid, noona, not if it means I can protect you and your family.” His eyes darken as he tangles his fingers into your hair, twirling the ends of your waves between his fingers. “You love me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then I need you to listen to me.”

With great reluctance, he pulls you away and holds your palm in both of his larger hands. Your eyes are closed, whether from fatigue or concentration he doesn’t know until your brows scrunch when he speaks.

“Call your mother when I tell you to and tell her you’re on your way over. If she asks why you didn’t answer her previous calls, tell her you had an emergency at work. Reassure her and make sure she doesn’t touch anything more than she’s probably already touched by now. Don’t mention that I’m coming with you, understand? She might panic and bring attention to herself if there’s any witnesses.”

You nod continuously, creating a mental checklist. Call, inform, excuse, reassure, move.

“And noona?”

You look back up into his eyes.

“You…you won’t hate me after tonight…would you?”

How could you fathom it? With his warm, sincere stare and willingness to walk to the ends of earth for someone as plain and unlovable as you, you should be on your knees worshipping him. You don’t understand how he can think of you hating him when he had so willingly put his entire life at risk without reluctance. You aren’t asking him to fetch a forgotten carton of milk at the corner store. You’re asking him to clean up the mess your mother made, a mess that can tear your entire world apart, a mess that has nothing to do with your boyfriend who has no boundaries to prove his devotion.

You shake your head. “I could never,” you breathe.

You hold him this time, letting his body bow towards your trembling figure as he breathes in the scent of sweat and perfume on your neck. You give him a moment of peace. You wanted him to remember this touch as after this night is over, you don’t know if you’ll be the same person. You don’t know if he’ll be either.

He goes over the plan once more and leads you to his car. When Jungkook straps you into the passenger seat and turns the ignition key, you curl your fingers around your shaking knees. He notices your anxiety and takes the closest hand in his before letting your palm rest over the gear shift. He places his own hand on top of yours, gripping tightly when he shifts and maneuvers the car out of the parking lot and onto the road before unclenching.

The sky is pitch black and the moon stalks from behind. You count every tree, read every sign, tense at every sign of a police car passing by, and sniffle when your burning eyes refuse to calm. You don’t register where you are until Jungkook lets go of your hand on the shifting gear and undo his seatbelt. You’re inside the garage of his studio, surrounded by wires, cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and office supplies. When you grasp his arm, letting out a small cry, he hushes you instantly, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“I’ll be quick, noona. I just need to get some things, okay? I’ll be right there-” he points to the very back of the car – “in view.”

You swallow, nodding before uncurling your grip from his arm.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint for Jungkook not to coo at your desperation. He missed this dependency of yours (he had only seen it during the wedding night and the necklace argument) and for once he wonders if he went a bit too far with his role as the sweet and needy boyfriend. He’s not acting in a way that he doesn’t want to but he is guilty of dramatizing some of his pleas and affectionate touches. He knows, in his head, that he is a man. He’s stronger, taller, capable of committing a crime and not just cleaning its aftermath, and will eventually be the father of your children. He’ll tug his collar open to expose his vulnerabilities, but he will show you his strength too. Tonight is a blessing from the universe that will, finally, keep you where you belong: at his side, looking at him, and needing only him.

You watch as Jungkook swings open the trunk of his car and load three large plastic bins and pile photography equipment – tripods, developer fluids, camera bags, lighting equipment, and even a small monitor. And then you see the last box of supplies: rope, black plastic bags, gloves, masks, bleach, towels, and tape. When his eyes meet yours, he flashes you a small smile between his labored breaths, the kind you’re used to seeing after you make love to him and he’s spent, sprawled on the sheets with an arm over his perspired forehead. The car jolts slightly as pushes the back door shut and hop back into the driver seat, adjusting the temperature in the car, muttering something under his breath, and latching his seat belt back on.

He keeps both hands on the wheel. “Noona…make the call now.”

You’re frozen, hands clasped together on your lap.

“Kookie…”

You’re having doubts. He can see it in the way you can’t even bear to look at him. He digs through your pocket and presses your cell phone on your lap. When the lockscreen awakens to the photo of you two, you feel your heart anchor to the bottom of your stomach.

“I-I can’t do it.” You shake your head. “We have to go to the police. I can’t live without you, I can’t live without mom, we’ll get caught and I-” You press your hands to your face, your hoarse sobs lodged deep in your throat before it rips from your chest in the kind of wailing that makes Jungkook’s own heart squeeze. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Yori either e-even if it means my family…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

He sees himself in you. He sees himself as the teen boy who let Taehyung drag his scalpel across his father, then his mother, before encouraging him to give it a try. You’re a virgin. Even if tonight worked out perfectly according to his plans, you’d still be a crime virgin. It was your mother who pushed Yori, not you. Knowing how empathetic you are, how tender you are, it might as well be you who pushed the woman down the stairs. He knows your fear all too well and he knows just how quick your hummingbird heartbeat is underneath his coat that you’re wearing. You’re just like him.

“You’re beautiful, noona.” He places a palm over your clasped hands and brings his other hand up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ears and strumming your cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“No one deserves your kindness. It fucking upsets me,” he swallows, allowing his eyes to water, “that even a mother will take advantage of that kindness.”

You sob into his hand, leaning your temple against the head rest. He’s right. How many times have your mother, before Jungkook came into your life, morphed you into something you’re not? The days you spent trying to please her, comparing yourself to other children she would complement to get a reaction out of you, letting yourself be a pawn for when she wanted something from your father that either required money or the right handshake. You still love her above all because she’s your mother but there’s no denying how much it still touches every part of your life from your relationships to your career. Moving away from her and letting her fade into the background was a true feat and it pains you that all that effort crumbled away and you’re left in a bigger mess to clean than before. If only you hadn’t taken the fucking call.

Maybe this was your fault. Maybe, if you hadn’t been such a hard-headed person, she would never had driven over to Yori’s place and none of this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have to get Jungkook involved either, as willing as he is.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Jungkook slouches back into his seat, putting his hands back onto the steering wheel. “Don’t you, noona?”

You nod, keeping your head lowered.

“Then be good for me and call. I’ll take care of you and I’ll take care of everything else. I’ve never broken that promise, not now, not ever.”

Jungkook hopes that’ll work. He’s rather annoyed but not at you, never at you. Why couldn’t she tumble down those stairs too instead of giving you such unnecessary stress? This kind of stain would be terrible for the baby had you been pregnant. It’s tearing him apart watching how different you are now compared to this morning, leaving the apartment in comfort only to come falling into his arms in tears. He came to the conclusion that you’re simply too pure for the world.

Oh how romantic tonight would be if you were honest with yourself all along. Claiming to loathe your mother with the strength of a thousand suns only to act like this when she shows up with baggage. Jungkook can’t blame you for you shared a majority of your life with the wench, but he finds it exasperating that you can’t see how little of your pity people like her deserve. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t be the love of his life if you weren’t so sensitive and caring.

It was with great relief that you mustered the courage to swipe across the phone screen and type your mother’s number.

He clicks open the garage door and the vehicle begins to descend down the elevated lot.

“M-mom? I’m on my way now…c-can you tell me where you are? It’ll be okay…I know mom, I-I’ll be there soon…”

…

You feel eerily calm as Jungkook drives past your mother’s car parked in the front of the gate to circle around the perimeter of the fence. He doesn’t recognize the new gate but he’d climbed over the old ones many times to watch you on the balcony. The metal may have changed but the level of security should be the same given that the villas are built a good distance apart between trees and the residents – people with mostly new money – keep to themselves. Lodged between a large tree and a partial opening in the back gate that is no doubt left ajar by your mother, Jungkook step out of the vehicle and press the door close before coming over to your side.

He’s relieved that you’re no longer in tears but your hands are still freezing cold despite the heat turned to the max inside. Your eyes are wandering and your breaths are labored as you press your body close to Jungkook’s.

Your mother is waiting near the door, her head poking out just slightly in the darkness and you can see the familiar row of bracelets on her wrist. She seems to have aged several years in just the last few months and the reason for her demise is standing next to you.

“Are you insane?” She seethes as she pulls you by the arm into the dark house and keep her eyes on Jungkook whose gaze bore into her skull. “How could you bring another-”

Jungkook barely had the time to secure your grip on his arm when you gasp, flinching back to hit the chess table next to where he’s standing when you see Yori’s pale arm stretched out from beneath a mat. The deep crimson shade of blood had congealed on the marble, partially smudged by the mat above her weighing her corpse down. Deep inside you had hoped that at least the baby could be saved, by some miracle, but the damage is far too great. Accident or not, a police officer finding this scene would not consider a light sentence if you mother decided to confess.

The older woman’s jaw is clenched, no doubt suppressing the panic she too feels hammering inside her as you hang off of Jungkook arm, trembling still. She looks up to your boyfriend and finds herself jolting awake when his eyes are peering down at her. He looks kind, sympathetic, soft, as if he is still sitting across her on your couch, eager to prove that he can be the son-in-law she’s been looking for all along.

“You should head home for the night. I’ll handle the rest.”

She scratches at her bracelets, her nails tugging the gold free from her skin. “B-But…where are you taking her? Anyone will find it if she’s buried in the yard.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer the question.

“Please go home and make sure there are no witnesses. I know you didn’t inform anyone before coming here,” he turns his head towards the body, “so go home as if you were never here. I promise I’ll take care of it.”

It’s evident the older woman is relieved by the way her shoulders slump but her gaze is still firm as she measures her trust into the young man who is in full control of your heart. Your eyes are still on the body when your mother takes your hands in hers and gives a squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” she croaks. She knew she gave birth to such a dependable, obedient daughter. You’re every mother’s dream and she makes a mental note to come back to your apartment with more boxes of food and perhaps make amends. There are far too many misunderstandings and miscommunication; it’s no way for a mother and child to live.

However, when you rip your hands away and take Jungkook’s hand in yours, her face crumbles.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” You hiss, your voice straining. You’ve never spoken to her like this and didn’t think about doing so until you saw the body, the mess your boyfriend has to clean. “You did this to us.”

“Wh-”

“Leave me alone. Please, mom. Get out of here, okay?” Your eyes glisten and you wipe away the droplets before they have the chance to fall. “It’s…we’re putting our lives on the line for you. It’s the least you can do now…so please…”

Between your pleas and Jungkook’s silence, your mother bites the inside of her cheek from saying anything more and turns back the way you came in. You watch her figure recede into the darkness, her shoes clacking softly on the cobblestone path. She turns back to look at you before the door closes and for once, you earn the most genuine apology you’ve ever received and this time she didn’t even need to open her mouth.

When the door falls back into place, Jungkook gives your shoulders a comforting rub and leads you towards the staircase, reminding you to breathe. He feels a bit more relieved that your mother didn’t raise too much of a ruckus. How could she when he’s the one getting his hands dirty? It’s what the perfect son-in-law will do and after this night is over, he’ll no longer have doubts about her approval. She wouldn’t have a valid argument anyway – not when he had just proved that he’s willing to go to the ends of Earth for your family and stability.

You’re too cute, Jungkook thinks, as you breathe through your nose and exhale through your lips. You’re a mirror image of his virgin self coated in blood, panicked but euphoric, angered but more than relieved to be rid of the parasites that kept him in the sewers.

“H-how are we going to do this?” You breathe, looking up the stairs as if you were expecting Namjoon to be standing there.

“I’ll handle the body. You can help me wipe down the stairs, okay?”

And handle it he did. He first fetched the supplies from the car, making sure once more that there are no witnesses while also keeping you within sight. Even without a severe puncture wound, Yori made quite a mess.

The terror didn’t come from seeing your former friend of years lay in a puddle of her own secretions. Nor did it come from seeing how calm and collected your boyfriend is peering down at the body with something akin to annoyance. No, terror came from how easily your mind and body adapted to helping Jungkook. You had no more tears left to shed when he lifted the mat from the body and placed a plastic covering next to her before rolling her body onto it. The sheet rustles beneath her weight and the stench of iron and urine fills your nostrils, prompting you to place your gloved hand over your nose.

Jungkook seems to know just what to do. He orders for you to wipe the railings first, which you do so with the slowness of a snail climbing a brick wall. The smell of bleach kept the nausea at bay and prompted you to focus on the smaller tasks because you can feel your heart already beginning to race with the sound of your boyfriend dragging Yori by the feet to straighten her posture. When you risked a glance back, you catch yourself feeling irked by the way Jungkook places her fingers so tenderly on her flattened stomach. Even when he’s wearing gloves, you catch yourself glaring at his touch on her skin, at the way his fingers brush over the ring on her finger. It makes you clench your jaw harder, pour more bleach onto the staircase, and wipe down each step with vigor.

She’s dead, she can’t take him from you.

You spray the bleach onto the top step, scrubbing with the heel of your palm as your shoulder fights through aches and pressure. You can do this. If Jungkook kept his promise, you must too. You will never find another man who will devote his entire life to you and for that you must not be too forgiving to those who don’t deserve your kindness, not this time.

All your life it’s one person after another coming to take what they want and leave. This is your lesson to finally take yourself back from them all, to come to terms with how much you gave and how little you received, see that Jungkook was the catalyst you desperately needed. It was no coincidence that when the elevator doors opened that very night of your wedding, he was the person standing in front of you. He was meant to be there holding your shoes as he rescues you away from those who would eventually suck the life out of you. He’s not someone you should be afraid of – no – because he’s your savior.

When you turn back again, Jungkook is slipping Yori’s legs into a large, black plastic bag identical to the one she’s laying on. He uses the bag beneath her to fight friction as he slides her body forward, careful not to bend her body before the duct tape comes into play.

And suddenly, your shoulder doesn’t ache anymore. Your heartbeat slows as you take another deep breath, this time through your lips, and watch his shoulders hunch over and forearm veins protrude.

“Kookie?”

He looks up, hair damp with sweat as it falls over his eyes. The lights from the front lawn, as it filter through dark maroon curtains, casts a red glow on your lover’s skin. When he meets your eyes he’s filled with glee, seeing that you’re no longer panicking and your eyes are clouded with a kind of protective apathy that lets him know you’ve gotten stronger. You’re dipping a toe into his world.

“Yes, noona?” He huffs, straightening his spine and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Nothing will happen to us after tonight…right?”

He physically melts at your saccharine voice. You’re worried about him, about whether he’ll still want you after this and if he’ll want you forever. “Of course not, noona. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to rest?” He asks if he hadn’t been the one packing the corpse into a bag.

You shake your head with a sniffle. “…I’m fine.” You’re not sure what to say, so you rub the cleaning cloth between your fingers and shy away from his eyes. “J just wanted to hear you say that.”

A smile spreads across his face, slow but bright as if he had just heard the most amazing thing. You can’t smile back and instead focus back on the floors and the last few inches of the railing.

You make sure to wipe the decorations nearby, in case your mother left any fingerprints on the lacquered surfaces. She can be rather careless in dire situations. You’re lifting yourself off the floor when something catches your eye: a large crib with layers and layers of blankets and fuzzy cloud and star plushies.

“What kind of bedtime stories should we tell our kids?”

Namjoon puts his head on your lap, sighing in relief when his neck is elevated at just the right position to depressurize the knot.

“What about myths? About the constellations and such.”

You giggle, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that a little too mature for babies?”

When he doesn’t answer, you wave you hand in front of his eyes. He squints, chuckling. So this is what marriage life is going to be like – he can get used to it. “You’re right, that is a bit too much. Then…hm…they’ll learn about the types of clouds in the sky and we can go from there.”

“Joonie, I love you, but don’t come crying when our kids prefer mama’s stories over papa’s boring myths and random science facts.”

“We’ll see when we get to that point. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

Asshole.

A fucking good-for-nothing lying asshole.

Gifting the same toys he promised to give to your future children to the same bitch who ruined your life, your family, and your sanity; they deserved each other, you think, and they both deserve to disappear as if they had never existed. The unborn baby inside Yori is innocent but a part of you is elated that he’ll never experience the kind of fatherhood he wanted. You silently wished Namjoon would tumble down the very same staircase you cleaned and joined Yori in a happy couple’s embrace to…

“Kookie?” You call out to your boyfriend who had duct taped the body in a semi-mummified state and used a shibari knot with his jute rope for easy carrying. He’d dragged the body next to the railing and leaned it against one of the stair planks in an upright position so that after he inspects the house for any evidence, he can bring the corpse easily over his shoulder.

“Yes, noona?”

“Where are we going to bury her?”

Jungkook wets his lips. He can’t possibly tell you the process of disposing a body or else you’ll surely fall back into panic so he gives you the simplest answer he can. “I’ll have to keep her body in the freezer in my studio. I’ll look for a place to burn it soon.”

You nod, swallowing as your throat tightens uncomfortably once more. The waves of anxiety come and goes. Jungkook knows how you’re feeling all too well and he wishes he could just hold you in your arms until tomorrow comes. Much to his distain, he knows you’re partly living your fantasy of making Yori pay for her involvement with Namjoon. You no longer love the man but anyone in your shoes wouldn’t deny there is a sense of satisfaction in seeking vengeance after a lifetime of humiliation that dampened your reputation in both your personal and professional sphere. Jungkook prays that getting rid of Yori will eliminate your mind of their presence although he highly doubts it; you’re not always rainbows and flowers. It’s only natural for you to be curious about taking another life when anger consumes logic. Most of these thoughts are fleeting ,which is why you had surprised Jungkook by your composure. He expected screaming at the very least but all you could do was cry.

He understands.

After he watched the life drain out of his parents, Taehyung had watched him cry for the longest time and when the next day came, it was like the world had turned its back while he washed the blood off his hands. The anxiety was terrible – at least for the first month or two – and then it was as if nothing had happened.

Like he learned before and like you’re learning now, it didn’t take much to get rid of a person. Over time, it just became muscle memory, kind of like making your morning coffee half-asleep. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of the power, he wonders how you’ll cope. Will you fall into despair and regret it all in the morning? Will you be hungry for more? How will you return his most tiresome display of affection? These are questions he can’t answer. But what he does know is that you finally understand what love is in his world.

Love isn’t just about a ring on the finger or a baby in the crib. Love has to hurt. It has to infest your dreams and turn them into nightmares, wreak havoc on your heart, rip off the magnet in your moral compass. It’s why the human heart is caged behind ribs – it can hardly be tamed.

…

As the car lurches behind trees and between unpaved roads, Jungkook notifies your mother about what to do next. It would not raise suspicion for her to leave the country for a few weeks, especially since she had been traveling to speak to investors abroad. It would take some of the burden off his shoulders too; your mother is a cunning woman who fears losing money more than losing you so he had no trouble alluding to her demise if she disobeys. While you look away, he quickly sends a notification to Jimin to make sure the older man will take care of the rest. When he receives an immediate response back, his shoulders slump in relief and he pockets the phone back into his jeans.

When he takes your hand in his again, the other gripping the wheel, you give him the smallest of smiles through the silence.

Three is a crowd. The body folded and hidden in the rear space between his photography equipment makes your head turn every now and then to make sure it doesn’t escape somehow. You’re exhausted beyond belief but Jungkook is here, his palm over your hand on the shifting gear once more, to keep you grounded. The night feels like it might go on forever.

The streets pass by in a blur – nightlife still alive and pulsing with neon signs – and there’s a kind of peace enclosed in the car that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook has always been and will always be there for you. Whether to take you from somewhere or bring you to some place, he’s the only person in your life left that you could depend on. As he expertly drives through tight alleyways where gas station surveillance cameras can’t reach him, you’re dozing off with your head against the window.

“We’re almost there.” He says while running his thumb over your knuckles. There’s blood on his shirt and your neck but you’re too tired to care.

You awaken with a gasp when Jungkook swings the door open; he had been careful not to wake you but you feel enough residual adrenaline to jolt awake at the smallest of sounds. It takes a moment for you to recognize the inside of his garage, the bright LED lightbulb hanging above causing you to squint as your eyes adjust.

Unaware that you’re awake, Jungkook quickly moves to the rear of the car and swing Yori’s body over his shoulders, tightening the ropes around where her neck and feet are to secure his grip. He carries the wrapped body towards the door next to the shelves and kicks it open to reveal several more stocked shelves before coming to a halt at the buzzing freezer. With a free hand, he lifts the lid open and removes several bags of seafood and miscellaneous food items you can’t quite make out before rolling the body inside the interior. He places the bags on top of the body and latches the freezer shut, securing it with a combination lock from one of his bins.

When he steps back and shut the storage door before turning, he’s surprised to see you standing in the doorway, your hair a mess, his coat hanging loose off one shoulder.

“Do you remember the night after you took my engagement photos? The ones at that same house?”

His brows scrunch slightly in confusion as he nods. There’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks as you breath in and out from your lips, a puff forming in the chill of the garage. You’re half-asleep, the exhaustion resting well deep in your bones but you can’t bring yourself to find your way towards his bed.

“I left my bedroom door open for you. I-I watched you from the balcony and waited for you to come back.”

Jungkook’s lips part, something foreign stirring in his stomach as the coat weighs down your shoulders and you don’t stop it from sliding down your arms, letting it pool around your feet. You don’t know why you wanted to confess but it felt right. It felt right to confess to something that isn’t about being an accessory in a crime.

“Why didn’t you say anything, noona?”

You close the distance, putting both of your hands on his chest, over the blood stains on the university sweatshirt. He exhales loudly when you bring him down to your level by a tug of his collar, your lips just a mere centimeter apart.

“Because I wanted you then just as much as I want you now.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between your lips, slamming your body onto the car behind you as he brings one of your legs over his waist to press himself against your heat. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck and he listens to your squeal as he lifts you fully off the ground and lets you wrap both your legs around him this time. You break the kiss and pepper sweet kisses over the mole on his neck and the smears of dried blood that caked onto his sweatshirt.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, moving your head to the other side of his neck to suckle on his warm skin and feel his pulse through the jugular.

Jungkook quickly throws open the door to the studio and steps into the darkness, his memory allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom without his eyes adjusting. Your eyes burn once more when he reaches behind you to shut the bathroom door close and turn on the yellowed lights with the back of his elbow. When your face comes into view, he sits you on the counter next to the sink and pushes his tongue back in your mouth, your name leaving his lips with a whimper.

He’s terribly hard against your thighs, his length straining through his jeans. You tug him forward by the belt as you break the kiss once more and let him rip open your blood and bleach-stained blouse.

“God, you’re so beautiful, noona. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

He moans as you press the heel of your feet up his erection, his voice muffled by skin filling his mouth as he takes the top your left breast spilling from the brassiere on his tongue. You arch to chase the heat of his tongue, back of your head leaning on the mirror behind.

“My good boy…such a good boy…”

The effect your praise has on him is immediate. Jungkook reaches behind his neck and pulls the sweatshirt over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You watch him unbuckle and tug his belt free from the hoops before unclasping the front of his jeans. Impatient, he circles his arms around you to undo the brassiere, leaning down to kiss the indents on your skin as you slip your blouse off your shoulders and pull the straps down your arms. The coolness of the counter causes a hiss to leave your lips and Jungkook drinks in your state of orgasmic delirium like an aphrodisiac.

It’s a blessing for you to have worn a less difficult pair of pants to shimmy out of. With a short tug, Jungkook slides the waistband of your wool slacks and cotton panties down your ankles. When he pauses, chest rising and falling steadily, you follow his gaze to see a streak of blood in the middle of the light pink fabric.

In the time between your mother’s call and your boyfriend dumping your former best friend’s body in a freezer, your period makes an early appearance. The streak of blood is bright and vibrant, unlike Yori’s blood that oxidized into a deep maroon shade on his tanned skin. Jungkook tugs your pants down your ankles but takes your panties into one hand, his doe eyes coming to rest on the blood before something snaps within him.

He throws the fabric on the floor and hooks his arms beneath your shin, prompting you to gasp as he spreads your thighs apart. He stares down at your dark pubic hair before tracing two fingers up your slit and into the curls. His fingers reappear with your blood, seeping underneath his short nails and the crevices of his nailbed.

“Can I taste you, noona?” He breathes, chest rising and falling even faster. His cheeks are flaming red, the flush reaching his earlobes as his lips part for more air. He feels like he can’t breathe, seeing how beautiful, fertile, and red you are for him.

You’re hesitant, the blood reminding you of what you just done – what he just done – yet the burning in your belly proves that you want this just as much as he does. You barely had the chance to nod before Jungkook pushes his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping the blood on your vulva and clit as his nose buries in your trimmed curls. You taste metallic, as if he’s sucking on a penny, but it’s light and the syrupy texture allows him to take all of your juices in his mouth. When his tongue draws circles around your clit and he presses his lips around the nub like a suction, your fingers immediately grasp his hair from the roots, begging his tongue to fuck your weeping pussy.

Jungkook laps your folds like a starving puppy until you’re arching for him once more, thighs trapping his head where it belongs as your cum gushes out of you with traces with red. Between your blood and your juices, he can’t decide which one tastes better. The metallic tang disappears, leaving a fragrant aftertaste that he can only indulge when he inhales through his nose after swallowing what remains on his teeth. When your knees twitch, Jungkook pulls back to come up for air, watching your expression as your eyes fall to his wet crimson lips, the mess reaching his chin and jaw.

It takes a minute for you to gather yourself together and in your exhaustion a slow but soft smile reaches your lips.

“Does it taste good, baby?”

“Heavenly,” he whispers as he traps your body between his arms and gives you a taste, twisting his tongue deep inside your warm mouth. Your hands stroke the contours of his biceps and triceps, core aching as he groans when you lick your remainings from his chin.

You can tell he’s tired, having to do most of the manual labor. He winces as you knead his shoulders and it makes your chest ache. Even when he’s hurting, he takes care of you first. Your precious boy.

“Turn on the shower for me.”

Jungkook is aching to be inside you but he obeys, turning away to step inside the shower and twist the silver handle lodged into the tile. You stand behind him, moving away just slightly when the water – steadily turning hot – sprays over his hair and onto your breasts. Just as he’s about to turn around you circle your arms around his waist and reach into his jeans, palming his throbbing cock before pulling his jeans and briefs down his ankles. He steps out of the tight fabric, watching the remnants of Yori’s blood spiral down the drain as you kick the fabric in front of his toes.

The shower hose is harsh on his head but he can’t seem to pull away, one arm holding onto the wall for purchase, when you cushion your knees with his wet, blood-stained jeans. He can’t get any harder watching water drip from the ends of his hair down to your erect nipples, sliding down between the valley of your breasts and onto your soft stomach.

You’re delighted to see his cock twitch, taking your bottom lip under your teeth as you look up at him.

“You want mommy to take care of you, Kookie?”

He nods, exhaling as his abdomen clenches.

“You want to cum all over mommy’s tits, yeah? Make me proud?”

“Unng…” He moans in response, hips bucking forward to slide his leaking tip across your lips. He whimpers when you pull away, your smile twisting when his stomach clenches again.

You massage his firm thighs, gliding over every ripple of his muscles and over to the patch of pubic hair above his cock. When you pass your hands over his belly button, you stretch a palm up towards his face.

“Spit.”

The mole beneath his lips appear as he gathers as much saliva as he can produce on his tongue and spits into your palm. There are some traces of blood in your palm but you pay no attention to it as you place your saliva-coated palm over his cock and make a fist around the length.

“Mo-mmy,” he throws his head back, the shower head coming down his flushed pecs. Your fist begins to move slow but tight around his hardness. “It feels so good. Fuck…unng, mommy…please…”

Jungkook can cum just from your warm breath hitting his leaking tip but he doesn’t. When you lean forward and take his entire length in your mouth, tongue stretched as far as you can as you press your nose against his pubes, his jaw drops. You’re warm, wet, and fuck, so tight.

His other hand combs through your hair, reaching underneath the nape to pull your head back until your half-lidded eyes can watch his skin glisten.

With your hands back on his thighs, Jungkook expects you to move. What he doesn’t expect was you to tighten your throat before swallowing with his entire length in your mouth.

“Fuck!”

You gag around him but repeats, breathing through your nose before letting your whimpers and cries vibrate his cock. He’s about to lose it, his tightening grip causing your scalp to burn.

“You’re so pretty, mommy,” he pulls his length back just slightly to let you suction him back inside. When his entire length is warm and pulsing in the back of your throat, you swallow once more and begin moving up and down, your eyes closing as Jungkook backs your head to the tile and fucks your mouth at a steady pace.

“Wanna cum in your throat, all over you, inside you. God, you’re so perfect.” He chants, abdomen clenching when your throat tightens just right over his pink tip.

You hum, hands trailing behind his thighs and up to his firm cheeks to push him forward. His grip tightens once more when he whimpers your name, over and over again, his cock driving into your mouth with a vigor that’s bound to leave your throat sore in the morning.

The first spurt of his warm cum hits your uvula and you cough just as he slides out of your mouth and pumps himself into his fist. Watching his creamy cum dripping down the corner of his mouth intensifies his high, prompting him to burst onto your shoulder blades and over your wet breasts. He doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath before he pushes you down onto the tile, moving away the wet jeans to a corner before finding safety between your legs. His arms, on either side of your head, allows him to prop himself up to lead his tip towards your entrance.

He’d forgotten all about cleaning the blood on your neck when you’re spread for him, your hands cupping his face in admiration. Your eyes and nose are still puffy and red, but he knows the blush on your cheeks come from your need to have him deep inside until you can feel him against your cervix.

“I love you, noona. So, so much.”

You hiss slightly when he pushes inside, your snug velvet walls engulfing his cock and keeping him where he belongs. His body bows in servitude to the goddess that is you.

“I love you too,” you huff, brushing your fingers over his sculped cheekbones and mandible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You let him take you there despite how painful it was to bear him pounding into your walls with the intent to ruin. You’re not sure how long you lay on the tile, how many times he came inside, how sore and painful your insides will be when he’s done. It was never-ending – how Jungkook muffles your wails and whines, how he pumps his cocks while pressing your shoulders down to bury himself deep, how exhausted you are by the time he’s pushing his cum back into your swollen hole. The last orgasm triggers tears to seep from the corner of his eyes which Jungkook kisses away as he reaches up to the shower cloth and waits for you to fall limp before running the soapy cloth along your body.

You’re freezing cold despite the hot water still coming down onto your boyfriend’s body and, from there, onto you. He’s quick to clean you up and wrap you in the same towel he had laid over you the first time you used his studio shower. You can barely move as he carries you to the bed and lays your damp body on the fresh linen. You can hear the sound of him ripping open a thin menstrual pad and placing it in a pair of fresh panties he fished from the shared armoire closet. He slips the panties up your legs, lifting your hips to pull the fabric over your buttocks, flashing his usual charming grin when you murmur a thank you.

He pulls the towel from your body and squeeze out as much water as he can from your long tresses, careful not to tug. It wasn’t ideal to him that you’ll be sleeping with wet hair but you’re beyond exhausted and, to be frank, he is as well. At least he’s heading to bed satiated.

Jungkook slides under the blankets and brings your body closer by your waist. He groans into your neck, his body immediately softening as the warmth of your skin and the blanket brings him the peace and comfort he craved.

“Kookie?”

“Hm?”

It takes a heartbeat for him to sense your sudden anxiety. “…I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” He manages to ask although sleep is weighing heavy on his eyelids.

“I don’t know.” You murmur.

Jungkook is too tired to remember if you said anything afterwards for he falls deep into slumber. As for you, your head won’t let you sleep despite your body pleading for rest. Every part of you can feel Yori’s heavy body in the freezer just several feet away. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel about tonight or if tonight should have happened in the first place but in Jungkook’s arms, you can’t find the smallest ounce of pity for the woman.

You close your eyes, snuggle closer into his firm chest, and try your best to pretend nothing will change. You try to forget the flash drive sitting in your bag, the possible evidence your mother may have left behind in the villa, the corpse in the garage. Most of all, you try to forget how Jungkook looked at the bottom of the staircase, slipping the corpse inside the black plastic trash bag with such ease that makes you wonder if he had done this before. He surely must have, that voice inside of your head says but you wave it away.

I don’t know.

You lied to him. For the first time in your relationship, you lied without guilt. You do know why you’re scared and it’s not because after tonight every knock on the door will cause your heart to pound.

No. It’s because you know your boyfriend – your sweet, loving boyfriend who cries watching romantic comedies on Sundays – is truly capable of murder.

#bunny:fic #yandere bts #yandere fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan angst #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #only you #chapter 9 #I did not follow the outline I made for this chapter LOL this was an unpredictable chapter even to me

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thora-jane · 3 years

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Twin-Way Mirror Pt. 1 (Weasley Twins/Reader Love Triangle)

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 1: as Summer draws to a close, some old friends come to take you off to the Quidditch World Cup

Warnings: none, I don't think. Maybe some tension between you and your parents.

Word count: 2,200

female!reader, 2nd person POV

Summer Holidays were special, you supposed, what with everyone taking a break from classes and unwinding for a couple months. You personally hadn’t been as big of a fan since you started Hogwarts. You were a Muggleborn, and Hogwarts was the first time you felt you actually understood school. You had been a horrible student in muggle school and consistently got terrible marks, but at Hogwarts? You were the brightest witch of your year. Even before your first day of classes, you had poured over every book cover to cover, examined your wand and robes for hours on end, and it took everything inside you not to start making potions.

Summer holidays were just the months in between. The time when you would lie to all your muggle friends about your new school (a private school, meant to reform students doing poorly in the academics department), and hold your breath amidst the tension of your muggle parents heavily encouraging you to continue to study muggle subjects and go to a muggle university after you graduate (“Come now, (y/n), you can’t possibly think you can just live out your life as a witch, do you?”).

A silver lining to all of this were the letters you would get from your friends. Once the sun had gone down and you could release your pet owl, Eros, with a letter or two strapped to his foot. In the morning, he would fly back with a letter or package before falling asleep in his cage. The letters would be from a few different friends every once in a while; Angelina would write to you about the latest news in Quidditch, always assuring you that this would be the year you make it onto the team, Hermione would send you newspaper clippings as your parents didn’t want you subscribing to a wizard newspaper, even Oliver would write and tell you about how his summers were going since he knew you didn’t see your friends much. And of course, there were the letters from the Weasleys.

You were in the same year as the twins, Fred and George, but no one could ever be friends with just a few of the Weasleys, it was always all or nothing. Ginny would write to you about quidditch (also assuring you you’d make the team, though you never did), Mr. Weasely would write and ask for common muggle objects, or with a whole laundry list of questions about muggle life, Mrs. Weasely would write asking you if you were being taken care of, sending you recipes and craft patterns, knowing how much you loved to cook and work with yarn, even Ron and Percy would write you, though mostly because Mrs. Weasley made them. Percy never let on as he scribbled about ministry business, but almost all of Ron’s consisted of “How are you, I am fine, mum wants me to write you. The twins miss you. xoxo Sorry, that was Fred and George.”

Ah, the Twins. Their letters were always your favorite, filled with page-long jokes or stories of their epic pranks and escapades, sometimes with a chocolate frog or some other sweet taped to the inside of the letter. Of course, when they mentioned making a line of pranking sweets, you were a bit hesitant to eat some of the things they sent. But you always seemed to walk away from the experience with all your teeth and toes, so you figured you wouldn’t get pranked unless they were there in person.

You kept all the letters and souvenirs and clippings sent, and even hung some up on your bedroom wall. Of course, none of the letters sent to you went unanswered, there would be days on end when you would write and craft responses to them, especially when one of the twins sent you a letter. You always closed out their responses assuring them that the three of you would see eachother again soon, and that next term would arrive before they knew it.

Granted, when you said this, you didn’t expect anyone to show up on your doorstep one day.

You were up in your room, writing out a response to George’s most recent letter and scrounging around for one of the candybars you had bought for him after finally convincing him to try muggle candy. It was then that you heard the doorbell ring. You paid it no attention, and chalked it all up to one of your mum’s friends stopping by for a coffee.

This of course, was not the case. You heard a few different voices, besides your mum, one or two of them belonged to who you assumed were women, but the others sounded much deeper. Then you heard thumping footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. The next thing you knew, there was a loud pounding on the door.

Then there was silence.

You weren’t quite sure who was there, but you hadn’t heard anything from your parents about company. And if there was one thing you’ve learned at Hogwarts, in these past few years especially, is that you always need to be on your toes.

You drew your wand out from your tied back hair and, holding it at the ready, opened up the door.

You weren’t quite sure who you were expecting, but not a second later two messes of red and black hair came flying towards you as Harry and Ron yanked you into a half-hug, half-tackle.

“(y/n)!” Harry laughed, moving your hand holding your wand so it didn’t stab him in the face, “the look on your face!”

Ron almost snorted, “Bloody hell, the twins would have paid galleons to see that!”

It took you a moment to recover your breath, but once the two boys stepped back from their hug, you managed to stutter out a question.

“Why are...uh...what are you doing here? And where are the twins?” You turned to Ron, who had walked over to your desk and started looking up at all the letters tapped to the wall, he started talking, but you could tell he was much more absorbed in all the papers and pictures and doodles.

“We’re here to pick you up, you’re all packed, aren’t you? The cup is in a few days and-say, were you going to eat this?” he interrupted himself, holding up one of the candy bars.

You walked past your bed and yanked a pillow out from Harry, who had seemed to make himself comfortable before you hit him with a pillow, then did the same to Ron.

“No, you may not eat that, that isn’t for you. And what cup? What do you mean all packed?” You tossed the pillow back onto your bed, and it landed on Harry’s face with an ‘oof’ before you pulled your trunk out of the closet and started tossing some of your cleaner and folded laundry in there, “Ronald I have no clue what you’re talking about. Harry, what does he mean?”

Although neither of you were in the Weasely family, you and Harry treated each other like siblings. Maybe not close friends, but the two of you were close enough that talking to him wasn’t too difficult.

“The Quidditch World Cup. Ron, didn’t you tell her?” He sat back up on your bed, looking over at Ron with his brow furrowed, “Your mum had you write her about it the other day, yeah?”

Ron smacked himself in the head, “I knew I was forgetting something! (Y/n), Dad got enough tickets to the Quidditch World Cup and you’re coming with us. Now, mum thought I wrote you and you’re supposed to be packed for school too, we’re taking all your stuff to the burrow and dropping you off at the Hogwarts express with the rest of us.”

“You’re only just now telling me?!” You tried not to shriek as you started packing faster, racking through your brain for all the things you’d need. You hadn’t gotten the list of books yet this year, but you intended on going before the year started. After running to the closet again and tossing your school uniform into the trunk, you ran over to the desk and shoved Ron aside to grab your box of letter writing things and some of the magical books you thought might be useful this year. While hastily stacking the boxes and books into your trunk, you ordered Ron and Harry from over your shoulder, “Ron, my potions kit should be under the bed. Harry, run to the bathroom and grab the small bag with butterflies on it, it should have my toothbrush, soap, shampoo, makeup -bathroom stuff. Well?”

The two boys nodded, a little intimidated at the speed you were packing. As Harry Ran to the bathroom, you turned to Ron.

“Do you remember the extra thing on the list this year? Fourth years and up needed…?”

“Don’t remind me. Fourth years and up need dress robes. I hate mine, they’re bloody awful,” he sighed, looking morose as he handed you your cauldron full of potion tools, “I’ll look like an old lady in them. What about you?”

You ran over to the closet, rifling through the jumpers and other clothes, tossing a Mrs.-Weasley-Handmade-Jumper into the trunk, “My mum took me out to get a dress a few days back, it should be...ah yes, here it is,” You pulled out a dress with see-through billowy sleeves and a skirt that went almost to the floor when you wore it, “You think this is good enough?” He raised his eyebrows, nodding.

“It looks nice,” You could tell he wasn’t too interested and agreed only to be polite, but you appreciate the sentiment as you carefully tucked it into your trunk. Harry came back and tossed the bag to you and you added it to your trunk before closing the lid and placing Eros’s cage on top. Sticking your wand back into your hair and slinging your yarn bag over your shoulder, you looked back at the two boys.

“Where are the twins? I thought they would have wanted to come pick me up?”

Ron tossed you the candy bars on your desk before walking to the other side of the trunk and helping you lift it, “Well, mum needed Hermione and Harry to help us get to a muggle house, and I tagged along. They wanted to come, but mum said she wanted to make a good impression on your parents and the last time they picked someone up from a muggle house dad had to go to at least a dozen ministry hearings.”

You chuckled, remembering how back in their third year they stole the car to pick up Harry from his aunt and uncle’s, “That sounds about right, Harry, could you get the door?”

Harry picked up Eros’s cage and held the door wide open as you and Ron waddled the trunk out of your room, stopping as you got to the edge of the stairs.

Your mum, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley turned at the sound of you making your way down the hall. The two witches waved, their faces lighting up as you greeted them, then Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand and waved it gently, “Let me help you with that, dearie,” She smiled as your trunk delicately floated down the stairs.

“(y/n), Mrs. Weasely and Miss-” She looked over at Hermione for a second, before Hermione answered. “Granger,” She smiled politely.

“Yes, Miss Granger just explained to me that their family was going to take you to a...Wizard Football match?” She smiled a little, puzzled by the own words coming out of her mouth, “they offered to have you stay at their house,” She glanced at your trunk and the wide grin on your face, “I take it you’re interested in going?”

You nodded vigorously before pausing, “Is...Is that alright with you?”

She smiled, though it looked a bit forced, “Yes, yes it is. Just make sure you brush up on your real school subjects, please. And do mind your manners.”

You practically squealed, your hands shaking excitedly as you ran to grab your normal shoes (school shoes and dress shoes had been packed in the trunk).

Mrs. Weasely thanked your mum again and the boys and Hermione helped carry your trunk out to the car. Once you had all settled in and started to drive off, Mrs. Weasley looked at you through the rearview mirror.

“Your mum seems like a wonderful lady, but she isn’t too fond of magic, is she?” She asked gently, and you noticed the whole car go a bit quiet.

“No, she isn’t. I think she’d rather I focus more on traditional muggle subjects than magic,” You answered shyly, looking down at the yarn in your bag.

“Ah well, I wouldn’t fret too much over that, dearie. Muggles can be like that sometimes, but she’ll come around,” She offered a smile through the mirror again. Before you knew it, you were back to talking with your younger friends, excitedly asking about their summers as the five of you made your trip back to the burrow.

#fred and george #george x y/n #george x you #george x reader #fred x reader #fred x y/n #fred x you #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey x reader #fred weasley #george weasley #hogwarts #books & libraries

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icarusbuck · 4 years

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7. yes i did, what about it?

FOX! 911 | fluff

∞

Eddie put his truck in park and turned the key. After a long day at work, all he wanted to do was unwind and decompress on Buck's couch. It wasn't quite a routine yet, but spending an evening at the loft was swiftly becoming a regular occurrence.

The quiet rumble of his engine faded into quiet. He picked up the case of beer sitting on his passenger seat; a consolation prize for drinking most of what Buck had in his fridge over the last few weeks, and also for showing up unannounced. He made his way to the front door, but pulled up short when he heard multiple voices from inside, talking over each other as much as they seemed to be talking to each other.

Shifting the box under one arm, he knocked. A feeling of unease settled in his chest, and he half convinced himself to just go home in the moments that passed.

Buck's voice drifted closer to the door, and then it opened, revealing him in sweats and a tank top. He had a beer in his hand and it was on the way to his lips when he froze. His shock lasted only for a moment, then he broke into a crooked smile.

"Eddie!" he cried, opening the door wider in invitation. His smile fell when Eddie didn't move; he stood rooted to the spot, drinking in the slight flush that always accompanied a buzz. Buck’s pants hung off his hips, and they were a tempting handhold. He gestured with his beer bottle, breaking Eddie out of his trance. "Are you going to come in?"

"Yeah," Eddie said with a start, shaking himself. He stepped inside and Buck shut the door as he peered around the stairs, trying to get a glimpse of who the voices belonged to. Maddie and Chimney sat together in a wide armchair, and there was a third guest who looked vaguely familiar. The three of them were dressed similarly to Buck - Maddie had on a pink onesie with a hood, Chimney sported grey long johns, and the third was curled up on the couch in royal purple silk pajamas. He looked back at Buck apprehensively. "Sorry, am I interrupting?"

"Interrupting?" Buck's eyes flickered up from the beer under Eddie's arm, his brow furrowed. "Nah, we were just about to watch a movie." He took the box from Eddie and turned, heading into the kitchen.

"Oh," Eddie muttered, mentally kicking himself for just assuming Buck would be free. He followed after Buck and considered bolting. "I guess I should have called."

Buck looked over his shoulder with a confused smile. "Called? Since when do you need to call?" He pulled open the door to the fridge and shoved the beer inside. His movements were loose, and Eddie would have bet money that the bottle in his hand hadn't been the first of the night. He bumped the fridge shut with his hip and turned toward the microwave, taking out a bag of popcorn.

"I didn't realize you had people over," Eddie explained, watching him dump the popcorn into one of two waiting bowls.

Buck tossed another bag into the microwave and turned toward Eddie, the wheels turning almost visibly. He looked from Eddie to the living room. "You're always welcome. You know that," he chided, waving his statement aside. "Do you want to join us?" Buck gave him a once-over, nose wrinkled. "You can borrow some clothes."

Eddie took a moment to examine the way his stomach lurched at how easily Buck always managed to fit people into his life, regardless of how full it already was. He was so caught up in the feeling that he barely noticed Maddie sliding into the kitchen.

"Oh, hey Eddie," she said, slightly breathless from laughing at whatever they'd found so funny. She bumped her hip into Buck's as she arrived and reached for a piece of popcorn. Buck slapped her hand away and slung his arm over her shoulders, smiling innocently when she scowled up at him. She turned her attention back to Eddie, and the Buckley smile was in full force. "I didn't know you'd be joining us," she said, almost in apology.

"I'm not."

Buck rolled his eyes. "Yes he is, he just needs to dress down first; come on," he said, moving away from Maddie. He took Eddie's hand and led him up the stairs, calling over his shoulder for Maddie to leave the popcorn alone.

"Buck," Eddie hissed, once they were out of earshot at the top of the stairs. He pulled his hand free and tried to come up with an adequate reason he should go. "I really don't need to stay, I just -"

"Sweats or shorts?" Buck cut him off, oblivious to how Eddie had lagged behind. He looked over his shoulder and eyed Eddie's button-down critically.

"Sweats," Eddie answered automatically.

Buck nodded, rooting around in his dresser for a few more seconds. He surfaced with a small stack of clothes. "Josh needed some company, so we threw this together at the last minute. Here," he said, dumping the laundry on him.

"Who is Josh," Eddie muttered, barely catching the clothes. There was a pair of sweatpants and one of Buck's workout shirts.

"Uh, Maddie's friend," Buck said, flapping his hand toward the stairs. "You can change up here, just be quick," he said, tossing Eddie a wink as he moved past him and headed down the stairs. His voice sounded the second he hit the last step, accusing Maddie of eating all the popcorn in the two minutes that had passed.

Eddie sighed and started changing. Buck's clothes were slightly too big on him; he had to double check the knot at his waist, and the shirt was extra baggy due to how much material Buck had removed when he cut the sleeves off. They were comfortable though, and he would much rather be in sweats than jeans if he was to sit through a whole movie.

He followed Buck downstairs once he was dressed. Maddie resumed her place on the arm chair, leaning toward the end of the couch where Josh sat leaning toward her. Buck was seated in the center, looking back and forth almost comically as he tried to follow their rapid conversation.

It drifted to a stop when Eddie appeared. He waved awkwardly at Maddie and Josh, and nodded at Chimney.

"Josh, this is Eddie," Buck said, using the remote to point at each of them respectively. "Eddie, this is Josh."

"Nice to meet you," Eddie offered, leaning over to shake Josh's hand.

"Oh, I assure you, the pleasure's mine." Josh smiled warmly at him, and he gave Maddie a look that appeared to speak volumes. She smirked back at him, eyes sparkling.

Buck elbowed Josh in the ribs and looked back at Eddie, patting the seat next to him as if it weren't the only one left. He passed off the bowl of popcorn once Eddie was comfortable and fiddled with the remote to get the movie going.

It was about some blonde lawyer whose hair color was firmly held against her. Eddie wasn't overly interested in the plot, but the others seemed about as interested in watching the movie as they cared to talk about it. They alternated between criticizing the movie and pointing out their favorite parts, but Eddie was certain he'd never seen it before, and had a hard time following anything. He was happy just to be included after a rough shift, especially on a night when Christopher was staying with a friend.

By the end of the movie, he'd had a few beers, and the buzz coursing through his system made it even easier to relax. He draped himself into the corner of the couch, and at some point Buck had slouched down into the space under Eddie's arm and leaned into his side, their calves pressed together. Eddie let his arm curl around Buck's shoulders, his hand resting on Buck's chest. Every time Buck spoke or laughed, it vibrated into Eddie.

Buck's arm rested along Eddie's thigh, his beer bottle balanced just above the knee. He felt good and warm and it took all of Eddie's willpower not to pull Buck just a little closer, just enough to kiss his temple or his cheek. He squashed the impulse by draining the rest of his beer.

As the credits started to roll, Josh gave an exaggerated yawn and stretch. "Well," he sighed, flopping his arms back down to his sides. He looked from Buck and Eddie to Maddie and Chim. "I should probably get going."

"We still have another movie to watch," Maddie protested, sitting up a little straighter. She'd turned into Chimney's side and pulled her legs up and over his.

"This has been great," Josh assured her as he stood. "Exactly what I needed. But I work the early shift tomorrow, and I should really be getting home."

Maddie deflated with a sigh, but pulled herself up out of the chair. "Okay. Well, let us walk you out."

"Deal," Josh said, slinging his arm around her shoulders. He paused before they left the living room entirely, looking down at Buck and Eddie with a knowing smile. "And don't worry. I promise I didn't feel like a fifth wheel."

Maddie laughed, and Eddie stiffened. Chimney followed behind them without a word, and the trio soon made their way out the front door.

The moment it shut, Buck stood. "I'm going to get another beer," he announced, refusing to look at Eddie. The flush rising up the back of his neck was one Eddie knew all too well, and he surged unsteadily to his feet.

"You told them about us," he said, narrowing his eyes with the accusation. He moved in front of Buck, blocking his escape.

Buck squared his shoulders immediately and assumed his full height. "Yes I did, what about it? She's my sister, Chim's her boyfriend, and Josh is - well," Buck swallowed, the pink rising into his cheeks. "He's…"

Eddie shook his head slightly, unable to contain his amusement at Buck's conviction. He wasn't mad or upset, he was… relieved.

"I don't care," he breathed, grabbing the front of Buck's shirt and pulling him into a sound kiss. Buck made a soft noise and his lips parted under Eddie's. His hands found their way to Eddie's waist and pulled, until they were molded together from chest to knee. Eddie wrapped his arm around Buck's neck, holding on as the room spun and his heart pounded.

It ended before it could really begin, and Eddie broke away with a gasp when the front door opened.

"I'm glad he's - oh," Maddie's voice stopped short. Buck glanced over Eddie's shoulder and he grinned, eyes lighting up so bright that Eddie's stomach flipped.

"Well, I can't say I blame him for leaving," Chimney teased. He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Okay, lovebirds, break it up; we have another movie to watch."

"Or, you know, we could go," Maddie offered quickly, putting her hand on Chimney's arm.

"That's not necessary," Buck chuckled, squeezing Eddie's hips. His hands fell away as he turned, searching for the remote he'd discarded earlier. He sat once he found it, leaned forward intently as he searched for the title.

Eddie fell back down to the couch as the others passed, and only hesitated for a moment before putting his hand on Buck's back. The secret was out now, at least to their current company.

Once he got the movie started, Buck shifted closer and leaned into him. He didn't waste any time in pulling Eddie's arm around him, nudging and pulling until he had Eddie where he wanted and he could stretch out along the couch. He took Eddie's hand, twining their fingers together on his chest.

From that position it was easy to feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest. He felt the exact moment Buck drifted off; barely an hour of the movie had passed when he started to snore.

Eddie rubbed his thumb along Buck's. He shifted in his sleep, turning in toward the couch and releasing Eddie's hand so he could curl up on his side. He pressed his face into Eddie's stomach. Eddie ran his freed fingers through Buck's hair, paying more attention to the little twitches and grumbles he made than to the movie.

Maddie leaned over with a knowing smile and picked up the remote to mute the movie. "We're going to go," she whispered, looking fondly at her brother as she stood. "You got him?"

"Yeah," Eddie nodded, his attention shifting to Chimney as he stood. His expression was hard to read, and they locked eyes briefly.

"It looks good on you," Chimney said after a moment. He put his hand on the small of Maddie's back, following her out of the living room.

"What does?" Eddie frowned, turning his head to track them.

Chimney looked over his shoulder with a soft smile, and with one word, made Eddie's chest swell with emotion:

"Happiness."

#fictober20 #911 on fox #911 fox #911 fic #911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buckleyevan #fox 911 #long post #idk why the readmore doesn't work D:#maddie buckley #howie han

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sylvie-writes · 4 years

Text

Bad (3): Memories We Used to Share

First inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

Summary: It’s time to move out! 6 months of getting your life sorted, along with a few surprises, some pleasant, others not so much.

A/n: My search history is looking weird, due to this series haha. I’ve been reading multiple articles about uncontested divorce just to get an understanding for this series lmao.

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I’m not a law school graduate, so I can’t say I really know what in the hell I am talking about. With that being said, if I screw up the divorce process in this chapter and/or the next, please don’t come at me. Our law system is confusing and I’m just here to write, no one said it would be accurate lol.

Warnings: mild profanity & your typical cheesy, predictable fanfic by yours truly.

Shoutout: MANY THANKS TO THE ANON WHO GAVE ME SOME IDEAS TO MAKE THIS A SERIES!

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always proofread but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Series Masterlist

For six months, you worked to get your life back together.

By the end of April, a week after you yelled at your (ex) husband, you had successfully packed up your stuff, without being bothered by the man. Ever since the night you had confronted him, the two of you never stood in the same room or even looked the other in the eye. So it worked in your favor today that he was busy with his new flame, probably entertaining her with a trip to Prada. Never once did you take a break, for eight straight hours, you spent one whole Saturday organizing and strategically packing your things away. Around eight o’clock, all of the boxes were stacked by the front door, ready to be moved into the U-haul trailer attached to your car. Lucky for you, Ransom could care less about what was his and what was yours. The dog, also going home with you. In truth, ever since that day you rightfully ripped the man for his mistakes, a black cloud has loomed over his head, no matter what he may be on the outside, he’s broken on the inside.

One more box was left in the bedroom, and you quickly jogged up the stairs to get it. Unbeknownst to you, as you were upstairs, Ransom and Blair had come home, apparently mindless to your car in the driveway, because when you walked down the stair box in hand the two pulled away from each other’s lips, staring at you.

You had made an agreement with Ransom that he’d not show up while you packed your things. He had done a good job so far, up until now that is. “Oh, (y/n), I didn’t think you’d be here this late. You should get some rest.”

His “concern” disgusted you. Now he decides to care about you? I think not.

Filled with rage, you drop the cardboard box, letting the contents inside shatter. In most divorces, there wouldn’t be this much emotion, but it hurt you beyond words can describe, to see this man that you loved with every inch of your body, kissing another woman, in YOUR house. You could even see yourself in her shoes, because damn, once upon a time, you WERE her.

“Are you okay!” Blair came rushing to your side, to try and move you out of the shattered glass. She seemed like a genuinely nice person, and had she not been a home-wrecker, you’d want to be her friend. But at this moment, all you could think about was that she wasn’t even bothered by the fact that she’d been seeing a married man. So, just as Blair tried to help you, you pushed away her hands and collapsed on the steps, lightly sitting in the glass, yet numb to the pain. The weight of the world had finally, physically pushed you to the ground. You were at wits end, and things were looking pretty dark. At this point, you couldn’t even see the light at the end of the tunnel. What had you done to deserve this and would there be a second chance for you?

Just then, Ransom came to remove Blair, telling her to go get ready for bed, the two clearly coming from a night of clubbing. As she ran up the stairs, mindful of the glass, Ransom came to pick you up. Grabbing your arms, you laid limp against his chest, willingly letting him carry you down the stairs. Oh how you missed his caring touch, why couldn’t things be different? It should've been you out dancing with him, you lip locked with him. Instead, here you were, letting the man who single-handedly destroy your life, carrying you to the couch, laying a blanket and a long kiss on your cheek. Consumed with emotions, sleep soon took over your body before you could protest and leave the house. Had you only heard Ransom’s apology.

“I’m so sorry my precious (y/n), it shouldn’t have been this way, my love.” A few stray tears rolled down Ransom’s cheek as he sadly sauntered up the stairs.

Ironic, how in a house that was once yours, a new woman took your spot in the bed, besides your once husband, while you slept on the couch like a toy banned to the isle of misfits.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee and giggles. You were angry at yourself, no doubt, how could you be so vulnerable by staying at the house? Before you could think anymore, you walked to get your keys, finding that Blair was in the kitchen, cooking pancakes for Ransom, who sat at the kitchen table with coffee and the newspaper. You kinda screwed yourself, by leaving your car keys on the kitchen table. It was your only escape and unfortunately it meant interacting with dumb and dumber.

The two once again forgot you were there, shocked to see your form walking through the doorway. With a fake smile, you grumbled out a few choice words.

“Don’t worry, I’m getting out of your house ya lovebirds!”

Victory at last. Your words stung Ransom, well, rather word. In another time, you’d say our house, but now, it was no longer the Drysdales’ Household, no, it was Drysdale’s Household, hence why you reminded Ransom that he was alone. Sure, Blair was there but you both knew it wouldn’t last.

That day, when Ransom and Blair had once again left, going god knows where, Ransom texted you that you could pack your boxes into the u-haul trailer. Since you just wanted to haul ass out of the place this morning, you left the trailer and boxes behind, making a beeline to the nearest bar. So far you had handled yourself without alcohol, but now you needed some relief, specifically in a few whiskey sours. Around 3pm, Ransom then sent that text, and you sobered up, gracefully throwing up in the bathroom stall, then driving to the house to officially get out of his life. Even with a major headache, you managed to pack the trailer. It was then that you realized you were destined to function alone, you didn’t need Ransom. Screw him.

In May, you went around town, scanning different apartments finally finding one. Unfortunately, there was a waitlist with three people in front of you, the estimated move in time being late July or August. With that being said, you moved all your things into a storage unit and continued to live in a hotel room. Thank the heavens you kept your job, despite Ransom’s pleas for you to stay home when you were married. Somehow, you were able to juggle working and functioning around others, coming home to be your true self, the night normally ending with takeout and tv. This divorce had truly ruined your life, and Ransom’s. The two of you constantly lived with the rain cloud, never once catching a break and seeing a rainbow overhead. For now, you were just separated and soon you’d file for divorce.

Around the last week of May, your life was turned upside down once again. This time, for a good reason.

Currently, you were on lunch break, eating at a nearby diner with your closest work friend, Lorraine Bailey. She really has been your best friend, taking the title that used to belong to Ransom. At least she was loyal, understanding, and wasn’t a backstabbing bitch *ahem* your ex.

“How are you holding up, honey?”

You were too busy staring into the nothingness of your chicken sandwich, that when Lorainne gently shook your resting hand, you let out an incoherent “huh?”

“I was asking how you are doing? With everything that’s been going on in the past few months--”

Before she could answer, you just snapped, quickly yelling at the woman, who wasn’t trying to be nosy, she was genuinely concerned.

“Could you just stop nosing around? It’s none of your business really!”

At that, Lorraine leaned back in her seat, lowering her head like a scolded child. Honestly, you didn’t mean what you had just said and you had no clue where it came from. Lately, your mouth has been an unreliable thing, for you could barely control your answers without acting like a moody child.

Quickly, you excused yourself, lightly jogging to the bathroom to expel the few glasses of water you drank. As you washed your hands, upon looking in the mirror, you were met with a face you barely knew. Sure, you looked the same on the outside, but on the inside you were a different person. No longer peppy or truly happy. Ransom had taken it all from you, but it was time to take that back. Walking out the bathroom door, you vowed to yourself from this point on you’d try to become your old self.

Surprisingly, Lorraine still sat at the booth, allowing you to give her a real and sincere apology.

“Lorraine, I’m so sorry, I can’t even fathom the words to justify my actions. Lately, I haven’t been able to truly control my emotions and I took it out on you. That was wrong and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it, after all you’ve always been here for me.”

The woman smiled at you, despite the tears rolling down your face. Why were you crying and since when did you become such an emotional person? You weren’t cold hearted, but nor were you one to cry at a movie.

“That’s fine, I know you are under a lot of pressure. What do you say we get out of here and spend the rest of break at the bakery across the street?”

“I’d say you know me very well!”

Soon, you flagged down the waitress and paid the tab, ignoring Lorraine’s pleas to pay for lunch. It was the least you could do after yelling at the poor woman. As you left the restaurant, the guilt was still surfacing in your body and you felt the need to hug your best friend, who was happily surprised, hugging you back.

Once in the bakery, you were met with the sight of homemade chocolates, like your dog at home, you were practically drooling. Let’s just say the baker was stunned when you bought two dozens of chocolate, and then proceeded to eat half on the way out. What was even more surprising, was that about a seventy-five percent of your order was chili dark chocolate.

As you were walking down the street, and to work, Lorraine reached over, tasting one of your chocolates, a chili one to be exact. Her face twisted with disgust and her suspicions were confirmed.

“Uh, (y/n), I think I might have an explanation for your constant mood swings, the amount of times you leave to the bathroom, and why you’d buy this absolute garbage!”

The minute she listed all the symptoms together, you immediately denied her.

“Don’t even say it. I’m just moody because I’m mad, I pee a lot because, uh-”

“Exactly! Even you can’t explain all of it. Just do me a favor and buy a test. It won’t hurt anything to try.”

“Yeah, but I know you are wrong, Lorraine.”

“I mean c'mon, don’t you want to know too?”

At that moment, the two of you were halted in front of a CVS, Lorraine pointing at the store like she was Vanna White.

Your conscience: Maybe you should listen to the woman, after all she has three kids!

And so you did.

Thank god your friend was there, because you were an absolute novice in this field. Sure, you wanted kids, but right now you were praying that you were just having an irregular cycle due to stress. Lorraine, the best, best friend anyone could ask for, bought the test to spare you the embarrassment.

The minute you walked into work, Lorraine pulled you into the bathroom, giving you instructions, you following them, then waiting for the timer to beep.

Any minute now you’d find your results, and for some reason part of you wanted this test to be positive. It would be nice to have a little company.

Once the timer beeped, you looked at the plastic stick that held your future, immediately smiling when your answer was pregnant.

You were pregnant!

But the father...

Unlike Ransom, you weren’t unfaithful and unfortunately, the father was no doubt him. Of course, the one time that asshole sleeps with you, he got you pregnant. And to think at the time, he didn’t even really love you just enraged you even more. It was gonna be a while till you got over this.

So the rest of the day you were thrilled, and it was a lot easier to stick to your vows from earlier. Your mood was noticeably different to many of your coworkers, smiles all around. The old (y/n) was slowly reappearing.

June through July, you spent your days, working and when not working, taking advice on a baby from Lorraine, even visiting her doctor who she so highly recommended. Fortunately, the doctor didn’t prod around in your life and was absolutely judge-free about your situation. You couldn't have been more grateful.

In early July, you reached the second trimester, where the slightest bump formed on your stomach. Now it wasn’t noticeable to everyone, but to you, just the slightest site made your lips turn upward into a smile. Motherhood was the best thing to happen to you. And to make matters even better, your baby was going to be a Christmas baby, making his or her appearance at the end of December!

Telling Ransom was gonna be a whole other story.

Finally, August 3rd came around, and the apartment complex office called, an opening for you. Lease signed, you shelled out your first payment and soon moved in, once again alone. It had been months since you’d heard from Ransom and honestly it was nice.

The month of August flew by, and soon September came. Time passed by with flying colors and your mood had improved a bit, the baby in your stomach making life worth living. On the last Friday of September, your work friends decided that they all needed to go out, inviting you the first weekend of October to go ice-skating and out for dinner! It was time you treated yourself to something nice, so you giddily agreed. What could go wrong?

That Friday, after work, Lorraine came to pick you up, the two of you going to meet the rest at the ice skating rink. Being 26 weeks pregnant, your stomach had finally started showing, allowing your coworkers to start nagging you. Last they had all heard, you were divorced. So when they asked, you kept your lips shut, it really wasn’t any of their business. The only one who knew was Lorraine, but she wasn’t a gossiper.

Arriving at the ice rink, the cold Massachusetts air was blowing, making you zip up your trench coat ever the slightest. Unfortunately, the wind wasn’t the only thing making your blood run cold.

Most of your coworkers were out on the ice, Lorraine going out too, you told her you’d be out soon. It was nice to watch the skaters enjoy their time on the ice till you saw him.

The familiar tan suede coat made your face lose all warmth, your own jacket no longer keeping you warm. Beside the laughing man, was the one and only, Blair, except this time a new accessory on her finger. A diamond ring you could see all the way from your table along the side of the rink. His laughter made you sick, and at this point you wanted to throw up the hot cocoa you had been sipping on.

At the moment, you and Ransom were in the middle of divorce, thank the heavens an uncontested one, having been able to work many things out with your ex. This meant, zero court hearings (hopefully), a thin expense, and overall a clean divorce. Then, you had hired a paralegal to work on the legal papers and currently the two of you were waiting to see the judge to finalize the divorce, the approximate date set around the second week of November.

Feeling suddenly insecure, and definitely not ready to tell Ransom, you pulled the large trench coat across your chest and secured it with the belt around the waist. The minute you looked at them, all the memories came flooding back. One specifically hitting you at this moment.

“Ransom, I’m gonna fall! You know I’m a klutz.”

Your husband just persisted and instead slipped on your ice skates, tying them up and resting his warm hands on your knees.

“Honey, I will be right beside you the whole time, and by the end of this, you’ll be a pro!”

His reassuring smile was all you needed, nodding, you placed your gloved hands in Ransom’s bare ones, trying to waddle your way to the rink entrance. First, Ransom skated onto the ice, turning and holding his hand out for you. The minute your feet made contact with the icy ground beneath, you fell straight to the ground, Ransom reached out to grab you, although he ended up going down with you. You looked at Ransom who wore an entertained smile on his face, laughing. Playfully, you slapped the man on the shoulder.

“My failure isn’t funny!”

Ransom tried his best to cease his laughter, getting off the ice to help you up, although he was still chuckling the slightest bit.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

Once on your feet, Ransom locked arms with you, trying his best to balance you both, while also coaching you.

At some point through the night, the fake snow was fluttering in the air, along with tunes of piano and jazz. You had finally gotten the hang of things somewhat, yet still latched close to Ransom. The man on your side, leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“I give you my word that every year I’ll bring you to this exact rink, just to teach you how to skate, darling.”

If only that same Ransom was the one you were staring at right now.

But overall, looking back, memories like those, with him, are the ones you miss.

Why did he have to change?

“(y/n)?”

A tap on your shoulder, made you pop up from your seat to be met with the stare of that same man. He slowly gave you a once-over, making you slightly worry that he’d notice the baby bump.

He didn’t.

“Ransom.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Drysdale.”

Clearly, Ransom was trying to give you an olive branch, but at the moment, you just weren’t accepting it.

“I asked you first, (y/l/n).”

“Work.”

Your voice was monotone and Ransom gave a slight hum of acknowledgment.

“Nice. Well uh- it was nice seeing you.”

Nervously, Ransom waved you goodbye, heading back to Blair who was removing her ice skates. You took notice how she was struggling and Ransom wasn’t down on his knees helping her as he did you. It did your ego good to see that your husband hadn’t completely replaced you. There was a difference between you and Blair. Ransom actually loved you, like the “die for you” kind of love. While Blair, on the other hand, was honestly there to fill the whole in his heart.

It did intrigue you though as to why Ransom wasn’t being an arrogant jerk to you, yet he was being humble? None of it added up, but before you could do any more mental acrobatics, Lorraine came over, asking you to come ice skate, to which you smiled and put on your skates.

Tonight was about you, not him.

Something you hadn’t said in a long time.

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#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 54 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last time on The Thanksgiving Chronicles: Things got real as Courtney and Bianca had sex for the first time and Pearl and Adore for the last (??).

This Chapter: Adore seeks comfort, Katya decorates, and we just might have escaped from the alternate dimension where it’s always Thanksgiving. (Thanksgiving Chronicles 5 of 5)

***

More than anything else, Adore felt stupid. For believing, even for a second, that she and Pearl were finally on the same page. It was her fault, she supposed. She’d initiated things before they’d had a chance to really talk.

It still hurt though.

She could’ve just gone home and crashed. But she really didn’t want to be alone, and it wasn’t that late. Maybe Bianca would be up for an old movie. And she still had all those leftovers. Besides, she was planning to stay there to house-sit starting on Friday anyway, so it just made sense that’s where she’d head.

What she was not prepared for was the sight when the elevator doors opened. Clothes strewn all over the foyer and the bottom of the stairs. Courtney’s purse, spilling out its contents, right by her feet. Her mouth opened as she took it all in, temporarily too amazed by what she was seeing to remember that she was sad.

She walked forward a few steps and then stopped when the dogs came tearing through the apartment to greet her, barking up a storm. She set down her stupid box and knelt down to pet them.

“Hey guys! How’s it going? What the fuck has your Mommy been up to?”

“Hey.” Bianca appeared next, wrapped in one of those fancy silk robes she loved so much, awkwardly asking, “Um, what’re you doing back here?”

“Uhhh...I guess I’m interrupting, huh?” Adore said, trying not to laugh, standing back up.

“Or, you could...not?” Bianca cleared her throat and gestured vaguely back to the elevator. “And call me in the morning?”

“Yeah, I could…” Adore tilted her head, pretending to consider it for a few seconds before she took off, racing towards the stairs.

“Adore!” Bianca tried to grab at her, but she missed, Adore adeptly avoiding her hands and continuing.

“Too slow, old woman!”

“Fucking hell!” Bianca exclaimed, as Adore left her in the dust, laughing maniacally.

Courtney sat up in bed, startled by the footsteps thundering up the stairs, pretty sure they didn’t belong to Bianca, who had gone down to feed the dogs. She grabbed the covers, pulling them up to cover her naked body just as Adore appeared in the doorway, standing there breathlessly for a few moments, staring at Courtney with her mouth open and chest heaving.

Courtney relaxed a bit, seeing that it was just her best friend. She supposed this saved them that awkward ‘So...I slept with your sister’ conversation. She gave Adore a mildly self-conscious little wave.

“Hi...”

Adore threw back her head and laughed, then skipped forward and flung herself onto the bed.

“Oh...my...god. What the fuck, Courtney?”

Courtney wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just giggled, covering most of her face with Bianca’s comforter, only her eyes peeking out.

“What are you doing back so soon, anyway?” she asked, and Adore rolled her eyes.

“It’s been like six hours.”

“Oh. Oops,” she said, another giggle slipping out before remembering where Adore had been. “How was Pearl’s?”

“A disaster.”

“I’m sorry,” Courtney said.

“Yeah. Well…” Adore sighed, then her eyes zeroed in on something and she laughed again. “Courtney. Are those yours?”

Courtney followed her gaze to the foot of the bed, where her panties had apparently landed.

“Yes, why?” Adore reached for them and Courtney slapped her hand away, laughing.

“Because! I know what kind of underwear you normally wear, and those...did you intentionally wear lacy little sex panties to come to my sister’s house today?”

Coutney pressed her lips together, saying nothing, and Adore shook her head with delight.

“Oh my god, you filthy lesbian slut.”

Courtney giggled some more, settling back against the pillows with a shrug.

“Adore...” Bianca walked in just then, holding Courtney’s purse and a stack of neatly folded clothes, which she set on the little bench at the foot of her bed. “Get your fucking shoes off my duvet, bitch!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Adore swung her legs to the ground and began removing her shoes.

“That didn’t mean take them off, that meant…” Bianca sighed. “We really need to discuss boundaries here.”

“Really? You want to discuss boundaries after fucking my best friend?”

Courtney brought up the covers to hide her laughter as Bianca shot her sister an irritated look.

“Alright alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She heaved herself off the bed and headed for the door, where she turned around and said, “Now, be safe, okay? We don’t want any pregnancies here-”

“Goodnight Adore!”

“Nighty night kids!” Adore blew one last kiss and then disappeared.

Bianca turned towards Courtney, shaking her head. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Courtney bit her lip. “Are you upset that she knows?”

“No. Are you?”

Courtney shook her head. “I’d have told her anyway.”

“Mmm...and what would you have told her, exactly?” Bianca began to untie her robe, one shoulder already slipping down.

“That...um…that we…” Courtney’s eyes roamed over Bianca’s body, pulse quickening. It was almost too much. The tits, the ass, those legs. Courtney was consumed with a desire to be pressed up against her smooth tan skin once again, wrapped in her and around her.

“That we what?” Bianca asked, now joining her under the covers, one hand sliding across her thigh. The husky voice right in her ear sending shivers up and down her body. “What did we do?”

Courtney whimpered, pushing Bianca onto her back and hovering over her, prolonging the torture by just looking at her, not touching.

“Oh, she’s in charge now, huh?” Bianca teased, trailing fingers up the back of her thighs.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney murmured, finally lowering her hips, pressing their bodies together as she went in for a kiss, wet and messy, spurred on by the fingers digging into her ass.

***

Pearl stumbled out of her bedroom, head pounding with a hangover from all the shots she’d consumed after Adore left, but seeking out the coffee she’d smelled from her bed. She assumed that Trixie and Katya would be lounging on the sofa, enjoying their day off and relaxing.

Instead, the sight that met her was an absolute explosion of Christmas kitsch. It seemed that, with Thanksgiving now behind them, the apartment was about to turn into a holly jolly nightmare.

There were yards and yards of garlands and colored lights, boxes of ornaments and holly and a big stuffed reindeer, multiple nativity scenes, Trixie’s snowglobe collection, some mechanical carolers with very strange off-putting faces that had to be Katya’s, and two Christmas trees, including a sparkly pink one that Trixie was currently assembling on the floor.

“Good morning Pearlie!” Trixie chirped. “Want some gingerbread coffee? We have eggnog creamer, too!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you guys,” Pearl croaked.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Katya, pulling a colorful banner out of one of the boxes that read ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!’

“You’re deranged,” Pearl told her. She felt like shit, and she wanted her friends to take care of her, but they seemed so happy. “Completely crazy.”

“Pearl, please have more respect for our lord and savior?” Trixie said, making both himself and Katya crack up, punctuating their lunacy with a high five.

Pearl stared at them for a few moments before turning on her heel. It was too early for this. She’d be better off back in bed.

Back in bed where her terrible mood couldn’t affect anyone but herself.

***

Bianca got up carefully, slipping from the bed so as not to disturb Courtney. They’d been up most of the night, and though Bianca had a billion things to do today, she wanted to let Courtney sleep in as long as possible.

She was out of the shower, fully moisturized and drying her hair by the time Courtney appeared in the bathroom doorway, tousled blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing nothing but a sleepy smile on her face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bianca said, putting down the blow dryer and brush in her hands, eyes raking over Courtney’s naked body. “Nice PJs.”

“Hi,” Courtney replied, suddenly bashful, biting her lip.

“Come here.”

She walked forward, but when Bianca turned around to take hold of her hips, a hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Do I look scared?” Bianca asked, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney lowered her hand slowly. Bianca leaned towards her, nuzzling her nose gently before grinning and moving to place a row of kisses along her jaw, finishing with a soft press to her lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Honestly? I can’t remember sleeping that well since...ever.” She grinned, then wrinkled her nose and added. “I really want to brush my teeth, though.”

Bianca laughed, giving her a pat on the ass and pulling open a drawer, getting out a new toothbrush, still in the package. “Knock yourself out.”

Courtney stepped up to the counter, picking it up and reaching for the toothpaste, tossing out a very deliberately casual, “There were a lot of toothbrushes in that drawer, huh?”

“I got a 24-pack.”

“Mmm,” Courtney raised the toothbrush to her mouth. “...So, how many are left?”

Bianca tossed her a sly look, asking, “You wanna count them?”

“No. Sorry.” Courtney looked embarrassed, eyes avoiding Bianca’s in the mirror.

“You know...whatever’s happened with other women...that has nothing to do with me and you,” Bianca said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just a little, uh…”

“You’re beautiful.” Bianca moved towards her, wrapping her into an embrace from behind, kissing her neck. Courtney tilted her head to give Bianca better access, eyes falling closed, when a knock nearby made them fly right back open again.

“Uh...morning guys...you fuckin’ or can I come in?” asked Adore’s voice.

“Be right back,” Bianca whispered in Courtney’s ear.

“Kay…”

Bianca tightened the belt on her robe and strode out into her sitting area, where Adore was perched on the armchair.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothin.’” Adore drew a little design in Bianca’s new area rug with her toe. “Just wondering if you wanted to get some brunch or whatevs.”

She was clearly a bit dejected, and Bianca took a few steps forward.

“I still have to pack, but...maybe you could take Courtney out? Have a girls’ day? On me?”

“Cool.”

“Are you alright?” Bianca asked softly.

“Yeah. Just like, feel kinda dumb for thinking, you know. That things would be any different.” Adore looked up, her blue eyes misty.

“You’re not dumb,” Bianca told her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “You just...trust people with your heart. And some people don’t deserve it.”

Adore nodded, letting out a dry, sad chuckle.

“But hey. Some day, you’ll meet someone who does. And they’re gonna love you so much,” Bianca promised, a thumb catching the tear that had begun falling down her left cheek.

“Thanks,” Adore sniffled, and Bianca pulled her in for a warm, tight hug. She held her close for a few moments, rocking her, then kissed her cheek. “You didn’t just make a pussy juice mark on my face, did you?”

“Ugh!” Bianca pushed her away, laughing. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Adore giggled, heading for the stairs, before turning and saying, “Hey, B?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“Back atcha, pussycat.”

***

“Mmh.”

“Hey sleeping beauty.” Sutan smiled, reaching out to push the blanket underneath Violet’s chin, the top of his girlfriend’s head touching his hip, the TV playing on low in the background. “How are we feeling? It’s still a couple of hours until your next dose.”

“Mmh?” Violet cracked an eye open, looking up at him. “M’okay.”

“And you’re sure?” Thanksgiving had taken more out of Violet than it seemed like either of them had expected.

“Mmh,” Violet smiled. “Stop worrying.”

“Okay, okay,” Sutan laughed. “I get it.”

They had been on the couch all day, which Sutan didn’t mind in the slightest, his laptop open on his knees as he was working through his emails, his phone on the table. Tamisha had sent him a long list of potentials other agents had found, but she wanted his opinion on them before signing them with the company on entry level contracts. He’d been meaning to get to it all week, but with all the chaos, this was the first chance he’d had to really dig in.

It was one of the things Sutan excelled at, several of the girls already rejected based off of their photos and videos, but he had a handful he wanted to see in person, a model not worth much in the high fashion industry if she only sparked through a camera lens.

One potential in particular had caught his eye. She only had a shaky full body phone photo from the day she had been discovered, and a few selfies, but there was something about her face that had instantly caught his professional attention in a way white girls rarely did, and he had known instinctively that she didn’t belong in L.A.

“Sutan?”

Sutan had fully expected for Violet to go back to sleep, her prescribed painkillers knocking her out completely, her eyes closed, but it didn’t seem like she was gone just yet.

“Do you need to make another call?”

“Why?” Sutan tried to keep his voice impassive, to not show the clench of his stomach on his face. He was used to everything from casual flings to his most serious relationships being annoyed with him working nights and weekends, but it was the reality of his career.

“It’s nice. Listening to you talk.” Violet yawned, hiding her mouth with her blanket. “Makes it easier to sleep.”

“Really?” Sutan chuckled, the answer the last one he had expected. “Well in that case. I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Courtney stirred her iced tea with a metal straw, trying not to get too lost in her head while Adore was in the restroom. Last night had been amazing. Magical, even. Everything she’d been dreaming of. And then this morning, that spark was still there--Bianca was so affectionate and sweet with her, making her feel special in spite of everything Courtney knew.

When she looked into Bianca’s eyes, she saw things that she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to, not after one night. Especially not the way Bianca had, very kindly and suavely, ushered her out for brunch with Adore. With the very believable excuse that she gets cranky when she packs, and she didn’t want to “subject” Courtney to that. So Courtney was pretty sure that she was a fleeting distraction, and she told herself over and over that she’d be okay with that. Whether it was actually true...that was another story.

Adore got back to the table, sighing with relief when she saw that the drinks were there. She sat down and quickly sucked down half her hurricane, then looked up at Courtney.

“So…”

“Yes?” Courtney asked sweetly.

“You have a lot to tell me, miss thing.”

“What do you want to know?” Courtney asked, a faint blush warming her cheeks already, since she had a pretty good idea of exactly what Adore wanted to know.

“Well first of all, um...I know it’s hard to tell what with her voice and all, but Bianca is a woman.”

“Oh shit, really?” Courtney asked, before breaking out into a grin.

“Since when do you fuck women?”

“Since...last night, I guess.”

“Are you like...gay? Bi? Or is this just another case of my sister bagging a curious straight girl?” Adore asked, taking another sip, almost done with her cocktail already. “Shit, I should really have ordered two of these.”

“You could drink your water.”

“Gross.” Adore rapped her knuckles on the table. “Answer the question!”

“Uh...I dunno, I haven’t really thought about labels. But…” she shrugged, a smile pulling at her mouth. “I’m definitely not straight. Not after that.”

Adore laughed, then asked, “So has this really never come up for you before?”

“I mean...you know my brother’s gay. Like very gay.” Courtney rested her chin on her hand. “A full time drag queen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I dunno, I guess there was always this kind of thing with my parents, like ‘yeah we have one glorious sparkly camp child and one...plain one,’” she said with an apologetic little shrug.

Adore laughed harder at that, signaling to the server for another drink. “You were the bland unseasoned child, huh?”

“Yeah. And it was so obvious with him, and everyone knew and I guess I just thought...that being gay was this intrinsic magical thing that’s really clear. Or like, some giant revelation that comes to you all at once.”

“So...then did you ever have feelings for a girl before?”

“Kind of...but I always sort of rationalized it away. You know, that it’s normal to admire female beauty and girls are just prettier than boys and they smell nicer and...” Courtney sighed. “I think I thought that if I could force myself to tolerate a man, then I must be straight. Cause that’s what straight women do.”

“Ugh, so sad.”

“I know, right? But yeah. I guess I...have always liked girls, but I just didn’t think it meant I liked girls.”

“You know I would have gladly helped you work these feelings out in college.”

Courtney laughed, giving her a soft kick under the table.

“Man. Just when I think Bianca’s losing it, she scores a fucking ace…”

“Why thank you,” Courtney said, fluttering her lashes and tossing her hair.

“So like...are you guys gonna be dating or...what’s the deal?” Adore asked, giving the server a wink as she set down her new drink.

“I don’t know. I guess...whatever she wants.”

“But what do you want?”

“I…” Courtney hadn’t really thought about it much. She figured the whole thing was entirely out of hands. Everyone told her, everyone warned her--Bianca doesn’t do relationships. Bianca does flings. So in her mind, the best she’d hoped for was a fling that lasted more than a night. But now she was going to Tokyo for a week and Courtney has a strong suspicion that even half the world away, the mere thought of her would still be able to conjure up tingling sense memories on Courtney’s skin. She looked up at Adore, who was patiently waiting for an answer, and admitted, “I really like her.”

Adore nodded, and Courtney continued.

“She’s just so smart and commanding and sexy and I just-”

Adore’s nose wrinkled at the word ‘sexy,’ but Courtney went on.

“Well, she is.”

“You know she’s like...old enough to be your mother, right? I mean not for nothing, but there are women our age who would gladly fuck you. I promise.”

“The thing is…” Courtney leaned forward, eyes glittering, lowering her voice to say, “I think her age is kind of...part of it? She’s just so successful and confident and she knows who she is. If I even had an ounce of that, I’d be set. And the sex? Was like…”

“That’s my sister, please proceed with caution.”

“It was so fucking good,” Courtney said, trying not to gush or get too detailed. “I’ve never...I mean I know I have no real frame of reference for sex with a woman but it was...transcendent. It’s like I was living in this two-dimesional world and suddenly not only was it 3D, but it was like...more than that. A kaleidoscope.”

“Did y’all fuck or do mushrooms?”

“I’ve done mushrooms before. Last night was...a billion times better.”

“Damn.” Adore shook her head, lifting her glass. “Well...here’s to more transcendent fucking.”

“Cheers,” Courtney laughed, clinking glasses with her.

***

Fame sighed, sliding even further into the bathtub and wiggling her toes, music playing in the background as bubbles and rose petals surrounded her body.

She was thankfully, blissfully alone, Patrick taking his family to Radio Music Hall for a show.

The thoughts of scalding hot water and complete privacy was the only thing that had carried her through the morning, her mother-in-law daring to say to Fame’s face that their coffee selection was subpar, as if her beans weren’t flown in directly from Colombia.

Fame was considering if it’d be worth it to add a few drops of essential oils to her bath, when she heard her phone buzz, but instead of picking it up from where she had placed it on the edge of the marble tub, she ignored it.

Or, she would have, if it didn’t buzz again, and then again and again.

Fame sat up, water dripping from her body as she reached for her phone, annoyance flaring in her chest when she saw Pearl’s name.

Didn’t she realize she was still upset with her?

She was seconds away from just deleting the messages without reading them, when yet another one ticked in, and curiosity won her over.

PEARL: I know we’re not talking right now

PEARL: Which sucks

PEARL: You were right though

PEARL: I’m a bad and terrible person

PEARL: Just thought you should know that I understand

Fame paused, reading the messages once more, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Her silence had only been meant as a punishment, a way to show Pearl her displeasure, to make Pearl understand that she couldn’t just go against her direct commands or orders without a consequence, but this was never what Fame had intended.

Pearl was many things, but a bad person wasn’t one of them.

Fame pressed down, holding the phone to her ear, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

“... Hello? Fame? Is that you?”

“Come over. Right now.”

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sxvxrxssnape · 3 years

Text

minerva mcgonagall’s personal mission to make severus love christmas part 4

aka snolidays/snapemas day 5 and 6 (lights festival, food, memories, stockings) // pre-PS/the years between. minerva and severus friendship // ft. the hogwarts staff gently bullying sev and getting wine drunk together. mentions of sev’s plum blancmange @deepperplexity @blog4snape

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of teaching, brewing, and general sulking.

The term wouldn’t end until late January, but final exams were scheduled for the week before winter break and Severus had a thousand other things to finalize before the break started. There was a stack of assignments he needed to grade before everyone parted, the annual inventory that needed to be done, and he had about half a dozen cauldrons slowly simmering away with potions for the infirmary, not to mention he was creating both a study guide for the upcoming exam and an assignment that could be turned in for extra credit.

If even one student dared to fail his class after all the effort he put into making sure they passed, he was going to turn them all into frogs.

He almost felt bad that he hadn’t made much time for Minerva, and aside from seeing each other at meals - and even then, Severus wasn’t quite known for his perfect attendance in the Great Hall - he hadn’t spoken more than eight words to her since their trip to Diagon Alley.

It wasn’t as if he were avoiding her.

Much.

He just needed a few days to himself - as much as he could get when he taught two classes a day (three on Wednesdays and Thursdays) anyway. He knew the only reason they hadn’t talked about his miniscule breakdown was because they had been in public and maybe he was a little afraid of being cornered by her in private.

It was Friday now, his afternoon class had just ended, he had already checked on the status of his cauldrons, so all that was left on his to-do list was to hide himself away inside of his quarters and sulk.

Except he was all out of sugar.

Alright, not the worst problem to have and yes, he could call up a house elf and simply ask for the container to be refilled, but maybe a small part of him wanted to run into Minerva on neutral ground, so he wouldn’t have to knock on her door and risk coming off as lonely and needy. So rather than being a normal-functioning adult about this, he took his coffee ground-filled french press and flooed directly into the staff lounge.

He didn’t spend very much time in this particular room - large, brightly lit, and nestled between two towers somewhere on the fourth floor with large windows that overlooked the quidditch pitch - but it wasn’t for lack of trying. He found the lounge to be rather appealing, with its burning fireplace, sitting area, stacks of abandoned books, journals, and magazines, abundance of cabinets he liked to rifle through, and best of all, the fully stocked coffee bar off to the left of the round table.

The room wasn’t empty, and unfortunately, devoid of the person whom he was seeking. Pomona was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, poring over a stack of papers with a furrowed brow and a bit of ink smeared over her cheek. Aurora was sitting on the lone couch, momentarily distracted from the magazine she had been leafing through to look up at him as he entered, eyebrow raised at the contraption he cradled.

“What brings you here?” she asked, flicking her wand towards the record player and lowering the music that had been softly playing.

The action caused the herbology professor to look up and she frowned. “Oh, Severus.” she greeted, barely giving him more than a cursory glance. “I haven’t seen you here in a bit; thought you might have forgotten where it was.”

“Well, he did floo.” Professor Sinistra returned, her lips curling into a grin. “It’s quite possible he forgot where to find the door.”

“I didn’t forget.” Severus scowled, making his way towards the bar.

“You tell yourself that.”

“There’s tea if you want some.” Pomona called out, raising her own teacup. “Mint.”

He ignored the steaming teapot in favor of the kettle, flicking his wand to heat up the water before pouring a little over the grounds in the press. He missed the simple pleasures of having an electric coffee maker - perhaps the only positive that came from summers at Spinner's End - but he would be lying if he said he didn’t prefer the taste of the pretentious, one-cup-at-a-time brew.

While the grounds took the time to presoak, he wandered over to the pink pastry box and eyed its contents. The house elves always made sure to stock the staff room with snacks - biscuits, fruit, packages of crisps - but pastries from the local bakery were the most sought out after.

“The blueberry strudel belongs to Filius,” Pomona suddenly mentioned, not looking up from her task, “he’s already claimed it.”

Severus scowled at the remaining treat. “He’s not here, is he?” he mumbled, opening the box. He yelped as something sharp pierced his hand and drew back immediately, his face coloring slightly as Aurora started laughing.

“Like she said,” Aurora chuckled. “Filius already claimed it.”

Severus cursed under his breath and returned to his coffee, pulling down a clean mug and the sugar jar on the way. He was pouring the rest of the hot water when the door opened.

“French press again?” Minerva’s voice asked.

“Like he makes it any other way.” Aurora returned. “Professor I-Brew-Potions-For-A-Living is, unsurprisingly, the coffee snob among us.”

“I am not.” Severus frowned, placing the plunger over the glass and giving it a slight swirl before setting it aside. “It’s not my fault the rest of you don’t have any taste.”

“Oh, the baby thinks he has taste.”

Severus blinked. “Perhaps I’ll refrain from giving you a gift this year after all.” he muttered, glaring at her. “Also, you’re the second youngest professor here.”

“But not the youngest.” Aurora grinned. “That pleasure is all yours, I’m afraid.”

Before Severus could form a rebuttal, Pomona stood up and gathered her papers, rushing towards the door with an annoyed, “I can’t get any work done with you two around.” Aurora followed suit, magazine under her arm, a cheeky, “baby” escaping her lips as she closed the door behind her.

Severus sat down in Pomona’s abandoned chair, hands in his hair, as he groaned out a, “I’m most definitely not giving her a gift now.”

Minerva laughed and sat down across from him, a cup of mint tea in her hands.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“The lights?”

Minerva nodded and he considered her question as he got up to finish making his coffee. He grabbed milk from the cold cupboard and then stopped to look at her. “What if we went tonight, instead?”

“Tonight?”

Severus shrugged, sitting down with his cup and a package of biscuits. “We can grab dinner beforehand, I’m thinking Italian.”

“Really?”

“Invite some of the others.”

Minerva eyed him carefully. “Do my ears deceive me, Severus Snape, or are you suggesting a staff outing to see the lights? You?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll let everybody know.”

“I think we should hang the stockings in the staff room.”

“What?”

“The stockings.” Minerva emphasized, buttoning her capelet. She was standing in front of her dressing mirror, adjusting the green tartan fabric over her shoulders. She was wearing a long sleeved dress under it and, no doubt, a warming charm had already been cast over the black fabric. Her hair was free of its usual pins, the soft curls seemingly trying their best to retain their accustomed shape.

They were both in her private quarters, Severus sprawled on her couch with a book, as she finished getting ready for their outing. He had opted for his usual black on black on black, but had foregone his cloak for the grey wool coat he rarely wore.

So rarely, that when he put his hands in his pockets, he came across the crumpled ticket of a play he had seen two winters ago.

He couldn’t remember much about the show itself, but it had been the first time he had been invited to go out by his fellow colleagues and he had jumped at the chance. Of course, he had first pretended to consider it for half a day before telling Albus that he had nothing better to do that day and that he might as well tag along.

“Are you listening?”

“No.” Severus admitted, returning to the present.

Minerva scowled. “I said, we should hang the stockings we bought in the staff room. It’s got a fireplace and the room is awfully drab, don’t you think? Plus, it's neutral ground so both our stockings can be up together.”

“Well, alright.”

“Excellent, let’s go then.”

“Now?”

“We have dinner reservations at seven - which is in twenty minutes, I might add - so yes, right now. Before we’re late.”

They flooed into the staff lounge, finding Aurora leafing through a book and listening to music once again. She raised an eyebrow at the paper shopping bag they were carrying.

“What’s this?”

“Christmas.” Minerva replied simply, pulling out a stocking and handing it over. His name was now stitched along the edge in black thread and he frowned.

“When did-?”

“I asked the house elves when we first got back.”

They hung their stockings on the mantle with a temporary sticking charm and surveyed their work.

“I expect the rest of you to have a stocking on here by next week.” Minerva insisted, taking Severus’ hand and leading him out the door. “Come now, or we’ll be late.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Severus asked Aurora, pretending to eye her teaching robes in confusion. “We’re going out to dinner and then the lights festival.”

Aurora scowled at him, eyeing him carefully. “I would, but I have a class tonight.” she muttered, glancing out the window at the darkened sky. It was cloudless and few stars could be seen from her vantage point; there was no reason to cancel Astronomy tonight.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Severus shrugged, turning around quickly to hide his smirk. “I wouldn’t have chosen tonight if I knew.”

“Liar.”

The door closed behind them.

“You know I don’t approve of this.” Minerva told him, as they made their way down the stairs and out of the castle.

“Don’t approve of what?”

Minerva shook her head at him, but didn’t answer.

They met Filius at the front door, his too-long blue scarf trailing behind him as they made their way towards the apparition point. They met Pomona on the way and once they cleared the wards, apparated into an alley close to the restaurant.

Albus was already waiting inside, looking perfectly at ease in his three-piece suit, sipping on a glass of white wine.

“Ah, there you all are.” he greeted them, as they took their seats. “This wine is absolutely wonderful, by the way - do order a glass.”

“Someone dressed up for the occasion.” Minerva eyed the headmaster.

“I wear it quite well, don’t I?”

They were brought water glasses and bread, offered three types of wine - “I really must insist on the pinot gris.” Albus interrupted - and given a set of menus.

“It’s been a while since we’ve all gone out.” Filius mentioned, taking a slice of baguette and dipping it in olive oil and balsamic. “It’s quite nice.”

“We have Severus to thank for the idea,” Albus grinned, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but he didn’t think anyone noticed.

Except for Albus, who immediately dropped his hand and offered an apologetic look.

They ordered - and unsurprisingly, Minerva ordered herself the special - and fell into easy conversation as they waited for their meal. When the food arrived, it was met with excited sounds from the (perhaps a little wine-tispy) table and plates were quickly passed around with insistent, “You need to try this fried stracchino!” and “I swear, you will never taste a better beef stracotto pasta than this one.” and even a, “Listen, I know it sounds weird, but I’m telling you - you have to try the baccala! I don’t care if you don’t like fish!”

The dessert menu left him a little discombobulated and he ordered himself coffee while the others shared rum babas and marzipan balls. One of the rum soaked sponge cakes was pushed towards him, split down the middle and filled with cream and sour cherries. He glanced up from his bicerin to find Minerva watching him.

“Try it, before these vultures get to it.”

He obliged, cutting a piece off with his fork.

“Why are you frowning?” Minerva asked, leaning closer. The others were a little pink-faced, laughing, as they played a game of rock-parchment-diffundo for the last chocolate and marzipan ball. “We are eating delicious food and drinking delicious wine - two things I know you like - and then we’re going to see the lights with all our friends. You shouldn’t be frowning.”

“I think you’ve had enough wine.”

She made a face at him. “Oh, let me guess.” she pursed her lips. “You have some sort of traumatic childhood memory involving all of this and you are currently reliving it in your head.”

Severus scowled. “I don’t have a traumatic memory for everything.”

“Could have fooled me.” Pomona spoke up, inserting herself into their conversation. The others stopped and turned to look at him. “You’re so grumpy all the time, I just figured your whole life was simply continuous trauma.”

“I’ll revoke your christmas gift too, don’t test me.”

Pomona straightened up. “Oh, you got me a gift?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie!” Pomona grinned, pointing at him. “You got me a gift!”

“Don’t think you’re special.” Severus muttered. “It’s not just you.”

“Severus got us all gifts!” Filius realized. “Severus loves us!”

He made eye contact with the headmaster. “Consider this my official resignation.”

Albus nodded, his expression turning serious. “Of course, my boy, I understand.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s a shame my staff cannot be more professional when they venture out of the castle walls, but alas, there is a reason I do not let them wander far.”

“Truly awful.”

“Severus loves us!” Pomona repeated and the table burst into giggles, save for Severus who covered his face with his hands. And he was the youngest of this lot?

They paid soon after that - Severus discretely cancelling the silencing and repelling charms they had cast on their table to hurry them along - and made their way towards the nearby park where the lights festival had been set up. The others wandered off on their own, leaving Minerva and Severus to walk the paths alone.

Once the others had wandered far enough ahead that their conversation would no longer carry, Minerva learned slightly into her friend, nudging his shoulder. “Now will you tell me?”

“It’s not a traumatic childhood memory, if that’s what you mean.”

“But you did remember something.” Minerva pressed.

“Yes.”

The path they walked was illuminated by tiny orbs, leading towards a tunnel strung with hundreds of white and blue lights. As they walked through it, Severus fell silent and simply looked up, sneaking glances of the night sky beyond the wire cage that held up all the lights.

There was a giant christmas tree waiting for them when they exited the tunnel, made entirely of green and gold twinkles - strings of lights pulled taut from a metal pole and pinned onto the ground. Similar displays surrounded it, contraptions of metal and colored lights creating bow-tied gift boxes and ornaments, stars and snowflakes, all glowing in the dark.

All the natural trees were wrapped in lights as well, not a single twig or branch left uncovered. Giant, glowing candy canes dotted the path now and they followed it, taking in every sparkling display. Music was playing and though others wandered the path, no one stood too close.

“I remember my mum used to make this dessert when I was little, it was a blancmange made from dirigible plum and cardamom, I believe."

"Oh?"

"She used to tell my father they were persimmons." he smiled softly. "Said she learned the recipe from her grandmother. It was probably my favorite part of the holiday break. I helped her make it one year; funnily enough, that was also the last Christmas I had with her."

"You said it wasn't a traumatic memory." Minerva scolded.

"It's not." Severus defended himself. "It's one of my only good ones."

"There was blancmange on the menu." Minerva remembered, smiling sadly. She watched a pair of children run between the candy canes, their laughs echoing as they chased each other.

"Fig leaf and orange." Severus recited. "It made me realize I haven't seen anywhere serve that particular dessert, let alone one made from dirigible plums. I miss it."

"Perhaps we could make it."

"You think?"

"Why not?"

Minerva nodded towards a coffee stall and they ordered themselves the gingerbread hot chocolate. They cradled their red paper cups and took small sips as they wandered through the park, pointing out certain displays.

"Perhaps nostalgia is getting the best of me." Severus finally circled back to their conversation. "But I find myself wanting to try. I don't have much left to remind me of her, especially not without also thinking of my father, but that one? That one's all ours."

"Elphinstone and I used to make a yule log cake." Minerva offered. "Down to the mushroom meringues and everything."

"I've never had one."

"Well, perhaps a baking day is in order."

"Perhaps it is."

-----

a/n: this is starting to feel more like minerva and severus' adventures in eating out

hope you enjoyed the staff picking on my problem child a little

menu inspiration comes from bocca di lupo, london (sometimes i wonder if places ever search themselves to see what people are saying and find they're being featured in harry potter fanfics and the like)

stracchino - a soft, creamy cheese which the restuarant serves fried stracotto - italian pot roast, served with pasta here baccala - preserved, salted cod (fried) bicerin - a hot drink made from espresso, drinking chocolate, and milk blancmange - this one's special because i took a direct quote from the hogwarts mystery game, where sev reminisces about this dessert and gave it more backstory. its a sort of gelatin dessert, sweet and milky. bocca di lupo has a fig and orange panna cotta on their menu, which is basically the same thing (just different thickeners) so i traded it out for the sake of using the one tidbit i know about the game.

#snapemas 2020 #snolidays2020 #snapedom #pro snape #severus snape #snapemas #professor snape #snapecember #holiday writing challenge

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leggomylino · 4 years

Text

Pushing Up Daisies | Seo Changbin

Genre: fluff, crack, comedy, college au, secret admirer/stalker au

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: Masterlist(s) linked down below and in bio!!! | Requested by @hanniiesuckle17 <3

— ✔✘✔✘ —

Darkness fell like a cloud over the room, a hazy mist where Changbin found the most comfort. It was a place where he felt calm, collected, cool, and accepted.

It was also the place he resided to watch Y/n L/n. The cute new transfer student from out of town.

Now, he didn’t think what he was doing was creepy. Or weird. Or immature. Not by any means; he was simply keeping an eye on her to make sure she was safe; the library could be a dangerous place, and there were all sorts of sick and twisted weirdos running around at this late hour of six p.m. that purposely targeted nice foreign girls like Y/n. He’d seen it happen all the time. It was more common than he’d like to admit. Which is why it was up to him to keep an eye out for her, since Chan was working late (again) at the studio and the mighty Lord knew Han Jisung wasn’t gonna do jack squat, especially not after Hyunjin had to go mentioning the grand opening of some new restaurant called...Factory Cheesecake? Cake Factory? Something like that.

That only left himself to rely upon. The only one truly trustworthy and qualified to keep Y/n safe. Even if it meant having to—

“Changbin!”

Clank. “OW!”

Rubbing his now slightly swollen forehead, he turned around the cramped space to peer over his shoulder. “What is it? What are you doing up here?”

Felix bowed his head, an apology hanging in the air. “Sorry. Seungmin sent me to get you. He said he’s clocking out in five minutes and he doesn’t want to get in trouble for your…“deed.”” He blinked. “He used other words I’d rather not repeat, though.”

Changbin scratched his chin. Ah, yes. The perks of having a roommate that worked part-time at the campus library: free access anywhere, so long as they’re on duty. And you don’t get caught. Like that one time he and Han scoured the back storage room for vaults holding the answer key to Mr. Kim’s final, and...well, that wasn’t important now. “Tell him I’ll be down in ten. I think she’s almost done.”

Felix glanced through the slits of the metal air duct, then back at his buddy. “...Are you sure you’ve really thought this through all the way?” His face scrunched up in an awkwardly distasteful matter, and he looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to commit such a crime. Like what he was doing was even criminal. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Instead of...y’know…” He blinked, gesturing to the cramped space around them. “Hiding in the air duct? It’s kinda creepy, is what I’m saying. And unethical...actually, very creepy and very unethi—“

“Okay! I got it already!” Changbin waved his hands. He didn’t need to hear this from someone he cared about. “Shoo, shoo! Go have dinner with Hyunjin and the bottomless cake pit.”

“You mean Han?”

“Duh.”

...Sighing, Felix left without another word.

Finally—

“...I really think you should just talk to her!” His voice echoed. Changbin sighed.

...Okay, a few words. “Go!!!”

His harsh command bounced around the narrow chamber, spiraling down out of the air duct. Gasp. He covered his mouth, praying to heaven no one heard him; peering down, the study corner Y/n was in— if not the library itself— was nearly vacant, with only one other student reading at a far table and a few stragglers making their final choices.

It would appear his voice had gone unnoticed. Phew.

Y/n was still standing at the same shelf. She’d been standing there for over twenty minutes, occasionally pacing back and forth a few steps, side-to-side, trying to make up her mind. Most guys hated that, but Changbin couldn’t help but find it cute and endearing; like a lost little star trying to find her way home, calculating the best route, hesitant, waiting to shine. Most guys took it as a lacking sign to confidence, but to Changbin, it just showed that she was smart. She didn’t want to barrel straight ahead; she gathered data, took notes, and made the best option that would satisfy both her needs and her interests. And to Changbin, there was nothing hotter than that...

Suddenly, her hand moved. The one with the leather watch she wore, rumored to be a gift from her father. It was worn and frayed, the inseam splitting at the ends. Brown; tan. A simple clock face encased in basic sterling silver. She wore it everyday, but it’d been a while since he��d seen the pleated pink skirt that swayed above her ankles, or the matching floral-printed scarf—

Her hand brushed against the spine of a worn old poetry catalogue. Oh no. This is it. She’s really going for it. His letter…

She was so close to finding it. Twice a week, Changbin would rush down seven flights of stairs and across five blocks of campus property to make it to the library an hour before Y/n was set to arrive, as she always visited the library after English 1302 on Mondays and Wednesdays. Something about departing from that class must have left her longing for more, he figured; she was a writing major, after all. He didn’t do well under too much pressure, so after panicking about what he was going to say this time, he’d steal borrow some of Seungmin’s fancy calligraphy paper in order to write her a poem, something soft and...what was that word he’d looked up last week...lilting, which he was pretty sure meant the same thing as uplifting and...happy. Then he’d have Seungmin (one time Han; big mistake) hack into her leasing record in order to find out which books she was currently into, or which ones she had on hold. He’d carefully and strategically place the handwritten poem inside the book’s first few pages.

The book was in her hands now. She’d chosen his book! Again! She was examining the cover...flipping it over…...now, she was…?

...She put it back.

Again. He lowered his head with a sigh. Game over. You lost again. He gripped his hands into fists; when? When would he learn? When would it be his turn to win?! …!

Oh? What was this…?

A figure turned the left corner too fast, crashing into Y/n. She stumbled to the right, dropping said book as well as her belongings and sending them somersaulting to the pale blue carpet.

The letter he’d tucked between pages four and five spiraled out a foot away. Unopened, still sealed securely in a crisp white envelope with a Molang sticker. He’d heard she liked him.

Some Shady Guy was now talking to Y/n. “I’m so sorry! Let me help you— I’ll get—”

Y/n picked the book off the ground, dusting and checking it for damages like her first priority. She was so selfless, caring more for a damaged old tomb rather than her shiny new laptop and fancy water bottle. “Oh, no, that’s okay, don’t worry about it…”

Her eyes fell upon the letter. Changbin held his breath. Oh no. Not now. Not with some punk watching! The moment would be totally ruined!!!

Shady Guy beat her to it, his undeserving fingers tainting Changbin’s craft. “Here. Is this yours?” He examined it. Smirked. Disgusting. “Cute. Aren’t you a little old for cartoons, though?”

Who here gave you permission to judge her?! ...Wait.

Y/n took the letter, frowning. “I don’t think so...Molang is for girls and boys of all ages. He’s cute. But, this isn’t mine…someone must have left it as a bookmark.” Her eyes swept the room. “I’ll go return it to the front desk.”

The… The front…

His face hardened. What?! No!!! That’s your letter! URGH!!! Were girls always this frustrating?! ...And why is this guy still standing so close?! … …

It couldn’t be helped; with defeat, he watched the two of them walk away.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The next day at lunch, Minho squinted at him in anger.

“I can’t believe you skipped out on dinner with us again to go stalk the new girl.”

Beside him, Hyunjin huffed his agreement over a juice box that was meant for a five year old. Changbin groaned. “It’s not stalking. You make it sound like I’m a pervert or something...I’m not, I’m just…”

...His voice trailed off into a long, steady exhale. Beside him, Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Next time, at least quit using the air vent. I’m tired of growing a collection of ulcers in my gut because I’m afraid you’re going to make one wrong move and come crashing down through the ceiling like doom over Narnia, and then we’re both going to get in trouble for it.” He practically slammed down his bowl of soba. “I need this job, Bin.”

Across the outdoor picnic table, Minho froze halfway through unwrapping his sandwich, Hyunjin nearly choking on his orange juice. The former of the two cast a chilling glare while Hyunjin fought through a coughing fit. “You…”

Crap. And just when he’d thought Seungmin would be the least likely to open his big mouth. Changbin pressed his lips into a hard line before speaking. “...It’s not what you think—”

“Isn’t it, though?!” Hyunjin blurted. His juice box went flying into the nearest trash can as he pointed drastically in the direction of the library a few blocks down. Dance majors. “You’re telling me you’ve been bailing on dinner with us at the best new restaurant in town to go crawl through the dusty library airways and spy on a girl who doesn’t even know you?!”

“Say it a little louder, why don’t you!” Changbin hissed. “And hey,” he added, leaning over his ramen. “We’ve talked before. We’re in the same writing class.”

“Over a project!” The Dance major roared. “That hardly counts!”

He and Changbin both fell back into their seats with a thud, exhausted with each other. Minho sighed. “Well,” he mumbled, “I guess we’re just going to have to show him.”

At this, everyone gave Seoul University’s one and only Bundle Boy a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” Seungmin asked.

Bundle Boy smiled, already stacking his leftovers. “Come on. Finish eating already and we’ll show you.”

Hyunjin blinked, gesturing back and forth between the two of them. “We…?”

Smack. “Just do it already. Let’s go. Quickly.”

Stunned, he had no choice but to inhale his soup on the way over.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The library was ironically closed for renovations that day; something about a generous donation from some well-to-do politician wanting his name engraved along the school walls. Whatever.

After bribing Seungmin into using his key, in the very same room where Y/n had been pondering her next private adventure surfing amongst old worn pages, Minho placed his hands on his hips, taking the roll of stage director. “Okay, now.” He pointed left. “Hyunjin, you go backstage. Pick a book off the shelf and get yourself ready. You two,” he piped, startling the remaining cast members, “will sit over there. Watch how it’s done.”

“......” Side-eyeing the other, Changbin and Seungmin took their seats at a nearby study table. The former could tell the latter was regretting his decision to let them in already.

Minho smiled. “Great,” he said, taking what was supposed to be Center Stage. “Now—”

Seungmin raised his hand. The director sighed.

“Yes?”

Seungmin lowered his hand with a soft plop. “Do I really have to be here for this? Don’t we all have better things to be doing right now?”

...It was a fair question. But Minho didn’t really seem to care much for fairness. “Yes, this is a team effort. I’m telling Chan you said that at our next rehearsal.”

The boy groaned.

“Now,” Director Bundle began. “Watch and learn how the pros do this. I’ll be Changbin, and Hyunjin is Y/n.” He turned his head to the side. “Cue!!!”

The lights suddenly dimmed, shocking the audience as they looked around curiously. “I could have sworn no one was on staff today,” Minnie mumbled.

Then the lights rose again, slowly in escalation, as a far-too-tall and far-too-muscular Y/n entered Stage Right. His eyes blinked wildly from atop the horizon of an encyclopedia about frogs. “Look,” he cooed, voice far too high and squeaky. Changbin and Seungmin both cringed. “I’m Y/n! I love books and boys and all the many girlish wonders that girls like me enjoy! Teehee!”

...Dear Lord, strike him now. Changbin rose from his seat. “Stop!!!”

His cry fell on deaf ears as the show went on, Minho turning and giving his best, dreamiest, disgustingly playboy-ish smile. “You’re Y/n?”

Hyunjin giggled (to which Changbin felt sick), the book never leaving the lower half of his face. “That’s me!”

“Changbin” (Minho) cocked his head aside, shifting his bangs to the right. Seungmin gagged. “That’s a cute name. A cute name for an even cuter gi—”

Fzzt! ...The power went out.

From the far corner, the real Changbin glared a storm across the room, holding the power extension cord too tightly. “That’s enough,” he grumbled, tossing the extension aside. “I didn’t come here for you to mock me. Or her. I’m not sure what I’m more angry about: the fact that you dare mock an innocent girl, someone I care about, to my face...or the fact that the two of you are supposed to be my friends.”

Hyunjin tossed his book on the table, doing his best sassy Dance major pose: a hand on his hip, knee slightly bent, head tilted to the side. Dance majors. “You can’t say you care about her, Changbin. You hardly know her.”

“I told you we’ve spoken on more than one occasion!”

“Over a project! That doesn’t count!”

“You said it hardly counts before!!”

“Yeah?! Well now I’m changing my answer!!!”

“Okay, okay…” Seungmin rose from his seat, wading between the two. “That’s enough. Fighting never solves anything.” He peered over his shoulder, focusing his gaze between the shelves. “Also, you need to keep your voices down— I’m not losing my job over something this dumb.”

“......” With a grunt, Changbin marched his way toward the exit; Screw these guys, whatever. He didn’t need their help and never asked for it anyway. He was doing just fine in his relationship with Y/n that...didn’t quite exist…

He’d almost made it to the door until Hyunjin stopped him. The should-have-been Drama major’s long fingers curved harshly over Changbin’s bulky shoulder.

“...Just face it, Bin,” he whispered. “Y/n...she’s one of those girls. A bookworm. She’s out there. Way out there.” He sighed. The whole room seemed to. “Girls like her live on another planet. You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you.”

“......”

Changbin scoffed, carrying his storm out of the room.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

At 2:46 a.m that night (morning?), Changbin lied awake in his dorm room, pondering many things. Too many things that shouldn’t have had any connection whatsoever, yet did all the same. Because life was messy, and love was fornot.

What is it with girls? He thought. I’ve never put so much thought into one before. They were just...there, and then Y/n showed up, and suddenly it’s like I forgot how to read. I saw her smiling, looking all pretty by the lecture hall window...I know I’ve written a song about her before.

Shift. The gray wall facing him gave no comfort.

...And what about them? Hyunjin, Minho, Seungmin...criticizing and judging me like that… Hyunjin… He had no right to say that to me. “You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you!1!1!” ...Pfft. Please. What does he know?! Who does he think he is giving me advice? About Y/n?? After his horrible misrepresentation of her?!? ...Man, I miss Jeongin. I wonder when he’ll be back from his field trip...

Toss. The ceiling was no help either.

Then again… Is it really that strange? I was just keeping an eye on her. She should be grateful, right? Who doesn’t like having protection throughout the day? … …

Sigh. ...Maybe… Maybe it is kinda weird what I’ve been doing...how I’ve been acting...my behavior… … …

Turn. The ticking of the far clock mocked him. All his lost hours of sleep...tormented by his own thoughts...

… … …

“...Hnnn!”

Shift. Toss. Sigh. Turn. Watching the seconds pass him by Changbin rolled about in agony, puzzled and tried over the last few weeks. Perhaps, as Hyunjin had said, even before his most recent insult, Changbin’s behavior as of late really had been “ugh.” …

A pillow fell over his face. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Maybe, as ridiculous as it all was, Minho and Hyunjin had been onto something; maybe all he needed to do was introduce himself. Start fresh, simple, anew. Maybe, this whole time, all he needed was to treat Y/n like a person he was interested in, rather than a science experiment he had to guard from afar. Maybe, just maybe, all he needed to do was say “hello”...

Unfortunately for him, “hello” was currently the word he was most afraid of.

“Changbin…”

He rolled over, peering down at the lower bunk; what could he say, except, Music and Photography majors didn’t make that much? At least not as undergrads. “Hm?”

Seungmin squinted up at him with sleepy eyes. “Turn off the light. I have two exams tomorrow…”

Shoot. Changbin grimaced, reaching for the switch. “...Sorry.”

Chink. Lights out.

“...Changbin?”

Chink. Lights on. “Yes?”

“......” Seungmin sat up, trailing his drowsy behind to the guest couch on the other side of the 12 x 10 room, the one Chan or Han sometimes crashed on during late nights producing or editing soundtracks. He pulled a blanket over his head, curling up beneath it like a puppy. “...Do you wanna talk about yesterday?”

Changbin scoffed, shifting his gaze to glare anywhere else. “...Like I’d wanna spend my precious time talking about those two.”

“So it is bothering you.”

Changbin fell silent.

“...The fact that you’re awake right now tells me that you’re letting them get to you. You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not! I never said they were bothering me!”

“It’s what you didn’t say that tells me otherwise.”

Changbin huffed. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

“I have two, actually,” the boy answered. “One at eight and one at nine.”

“Then go to bed. Quit worrying about me and mind your own business. Class starts in a few hours.”

Chink. Lights out.

...But though he rolled over, pulling the sheets above his head and facing the gray wall, the annoying brat missing from the lower bunk didn’t move. In fact, Changbin could feel his eyes burning a rash on his skin, spelling out the words, you’re lying; accept your feelings. Talk to me.

Chink! He swung back up into a sitting position.

“Okay, fine! Sheesh…” he groaned. Below, Seungmin almost bounced in delight, were he not engaged in a battle of fending off certain unconsciousness.

“Great...tell me what’s troubling you.”

“...That’s…”

Good grief. That was far easier said than done. He’d become so defensive, the automatic response to escape Changbin’s lips were always, “That’s none of your business,” “It’s none of your concern,” “Quit asking me about it.”

Now, here he was, at confession hours. He adjusted himself, the words swirling in his gut; hissing at the proposal of facing sunlight, wishing to remain buried. “...I just…” He began picking at the fabric around his legs. “...I don’t feel like myself lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so tired… Everything was fine until Y/n came here. Now…” He breathed. “...It’s like I can’t do anything properly anymore, and I’m not myself at all. I lost myself the moment I walked into class, and she was standing there, smiling under the sunshine and fluorescent lighting. ...Argh, listen to me! I never said crap like this before she came! It sounds so stupid!”

Seungmin continued to listen, patiently, as Changbin spilled his thoughts. Every waking thought he’d had since a few Monday’s ago. He nodded his head...starting to sway…

“...And it’s like, I’m saying all these words I’ve never even heard of before, y’know? You’ve noticed it too, right? Like my vocabulary is proliferating. It’s a nightmare! But...what really scares me is…”

He paused. On the couch, Seungmin fell over, beginning to snore softly.

“...I don’t like the person that I’ve become. I heard it said before that when you fall in love, or some garbage like that, you’re supposed to...become a better person? That learning from that person is supposed to help you mature? … All I’ve learned to do is become...some creepy stalker. I never saw myself becoming like this, not for a minute, but with her it’s like...I totally…”

“...Zzzk!” Seungmin sat up. “...Hm? What? ...Oh, uh…” He rubbed his eyes. “I heard you, I swear I did. Hang on…” He yawned, squinting upward. “...You’re not learning from her.”

Changbin turned toward the couch. “What?”

Seungmin adjusted himself, working at removing a year’s worth of sleep in his eyes. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure. Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”

To this, Changbin opened his mouth to give back some witty reply he’d stored in his new-found vocabulary somewhere, but of course, the boy dozed off, getting away with the last word like he usually did.

Pssh. Even his internal clock is in sync with his antics. Spoiled brat. That sure was a lot of words for three a.m...

… … …

He let those words reside with him. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure.”

… … …

“Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”

… … …

...Bah! He hated it. Hated hearing it, the way it sounded out loud, directed at him.

But perhaps it was a bitter truth he had to overcome.

“Tomorrow, you can always start anew.” ...That was a lyric from one of his favorite songs, from a rapper he admired all too well. Perhaps...maybe…

Tomorrow, I too, can start anew. … …

...Reaching over, he turned out the light.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The next day was Wednesday. The climax of every week. Shouts of “hUMP DAYYYY!!!” could be heard echoing around campus corridors, with students and faculty scurrying this way and that, some walking with direction and purpose, a few jogging, and others moving to a slow, leisurely pace, just getting out of class or having nowhere in particular to be.

For Changbin, it was a day of change. When the sun rose, after ignoring it for a few extra hours in defiance toward the clock that mocked him, he got dressed, ate a waffle, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair with his fingers as he hustled out the door.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him outside the door. “Ready for—”

“Busy,” he called over his shoulder.

English 1302 wasn’t until 3 p.m., but seeing as it was currently noon and he only had three hours to set himself straight, well...setting yourself straight was a daunting task. He’d need all the time he could get. Ignoring the fact that Chan and Han followed him out of the dorms and down two blocks while muttering precariously puzzling things, he set his focus solely on his current destination.

“I’m here,” he announced, slamming his bag on the front desk. Behind the library counter, Seungmin sighed, tilting his head back.

“I’m not letting you into the air vents anymore. I told you, I’m done.” He glanced at the clock behind him. “Aren’t you a little early? Your class hasn’t even started yet. I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

“Can’t. No time.” Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his English textbook, the one with a soda stain he’d have to pay for later thanks to Yours Truly (Han Jisung). Seungmin observed it curiously.

“What’s this?”

“My textbook.”

“...We don’t have stain remover. Try the laundry room.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, biting his lip. Don’t let pride get to you right now. “...I uh…” He cleared his throat. “...It’s not that. I want you to help me study. I’d like to have something to fall back on, when talking to Y/n. In case things fall flat.”

When he looked up, the expression on Seungmin’s face was that of a thousand suns. Like the skies had cleared, and the war was over. It looked like something Shakespeare or Dr. Seuss would write about. “At last,” he said, “the drought has ended. Seeds have sprouted. There really is a brain in there.”

Changbin swatted at him. “Just shut up and tell me when your next break is.”

— ✔✘✔✘ —

“Y/n?”

Her name came rolling out of Changbin’s mouth like a stone. It started light, yet gained velocity and fell into the pool of sweat at his feet with a heavy thud.

The moment she turned around, sitting up a little straighter, a little taller, looking him right in the eyes, his mind went blank. “Yeah! What’s up?”

… … …

He had no idea what was up. What was up? What was down? Which way was it to the nearest train station so he could use the last of his tuition money to board a train and haul it all the way to the highest bridge so he could— …

Cool, Changbin. Play it cool. The sun has risen, so you’re Mature Bin now. “Uhh…”

“......” She listed her head. “Yeah?”

“......”

“...Cake!” he blurted.

She blinked, shifting herself back while the surrounding pews started. “I’m sorry?”

“Ahh…!” Changbin adjusted himself. Took a deep breath.

Still cool. Roll with it.

“......” He smiled. “...Cake, uh...there’s a new cake shop that opened downtown.” He pointed...somewhere towards the door. “I was wondering if...maybe you’d...like some?”

The kindness that radiated off her features made his heart soar. “Are you asking me to come with you?”

“......” He nodded, looking away. But from the corner of his eye, he could still see her smile.

“Okay! I’d love to. Say, after class?”

He nodded again, more fervently. “...But aren’t you going to the library after this?”

Her gaze turned a bit sour and peculiar. “You...know about that? You must have seen me before.”

Having walked in right on cue at 2:59, Hyunjin made an irate sound that wasn’t unusual of a sassy Dance major such as himself. Dance majors. “Oh, he’s seen you, alright. He—”

The nearest pencil went flying towards his head, marking his pretty boy face.

“Ahh! Seriously?!” He rummaged through his bag. “I have practice after this!”

Having turned away before, Y/n examined both men curiously before clearing her desk space for class. “Well, it can’t be helped. I do spend a lot of time there, so you were bound to pick up on it subconsciously, I’m sure.”

“Yes. That’s exactly it.”

He and Hyunjin shared a glare.

She giggled, shaking her head. “Alright then! How about this: we’ll stop by the library, and then we can go to the cake shop from there. Sound good?”

He grinned from ear to ear; blissfully, simply, politely. But most importantly: in control. “Yeah, sounds good. Oh, and Y/n?”

The clock struck three, the professor walking in right on cue. As his voice took hold of the classroom atmosphere, the two lowered their heads, voices tumbling into whispers. “Yeah?” she asked. “What is it?”

Mature Bin held fast to his smile. “Hello.”

— ✔✘✔✘ —

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

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screpdoodle · 3 years

Text

Duality - Chapter One (The Diabolical Ways of the Deciduous Demon Outside my Window)

"KAOS!! Get down here! We're going to be late!!"

Early morning sunlight dappled through the smudged windowpane, the chirping of birds mingling with the songs of the warm autumn wind working its way through the cracks. All things given, it seemed like a perfect morning. That assumption, though, was a misplaced one. At least to the young boy in the bed. He opened one eye, took one look at his window, and pulled the blankets over his head with a groan. The light stung his eyes, making him crave for the sweet embrace of dreams once more. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, it would all just fade away-

Tap tap tap

He flinched, then peered out from beneath his covers, pulling them down just to the bridge of his nose. Tap tap tap. It was back. The warm autumn breeze brought with it that no good tree branch, the warm toned leaves swaying with every tap against the glass. The boy squinted, then laid back down, pulling the blankets tighter around his head. If he just ignored it, the tree wouldn't notice he was there. It would go away, realizing it was a futile attempt to gain his attention. Whatever the tree wanted, he wasn't curious enough to risk finding out.

Tap tap tap. Tick tick tick.

He covered his ears, he wasn't listening. He didn't have time to deal with the tree and the ticking. There wasn't enough time in the world to deal with both. And yet, here they both were. That itching at the back of his mind, and that incessant tapping against the glass.

Tap tick tick. Tap tick tick.

Every moment of silence he could have been relishing was filled with those Ancients awful noises. How long has passed? A minute? A moment? He couldn't tell. All he could focus on was that stupid tree.

Tick tap tick tap tick tap.

In one movement, the boy sat up, throwing his blankets to the ground as forcefully as he could muster, facing the source of his problems.

"For the Ancients' sake, would you shut the f-"

"Kaos!!" The boy screamed as the door was flung open, nearly causing him to fall from his loft, grabbing the pillow in self defense. "Ancients, what is taking you so long?! Mother took Mey to school already, and at this rate you're going to miss the bus! Get dressed and get downstairs!!"

The door was slammed shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the boy alone in his room. A small room, with walls lined with papers, a soot stained carpet and a desk set beneath the window. The sun bathed everything in a warm light, leaving the still burning candle on its surface obsolete for the time being. Still in shock, clutching his pillow like a weapon, Kaos slowly gathered himself, then climbed down the ladder, still clutching the pillow in his off hand in case he needed to use it. Which he most likely wouldn't. But it never hurt to be prepared. With a huff, he eyed the tree branch one last time, its pesky attempts to grab his attention finally coming to an end. It sat there, perfectly still - aside from the dancing leaves that yearned to be carried away with the fall winds. Oh, how he wished he could join them. For good measure, Kaos threw his pillow at the window, making sure the tree knew who was boss, before venturing over to his closet. His closet was a box. Of course, he had a real closet, set into the wall across from his loft, but he had never bothered to store his clothes in there. No, that was for storing other things. The box did quite nicely for the minimal amount of outfits he owned. Most of which were piled under his loft, waiting to be washed. Kaos half the time forgot they were there, along with some of Mey's clothes that he had borrowed; and some of his brother's that he had… Liberated from languishing beneath his bed with old socks and unfinished homework from grades passed. It was a mystery how Dyskord had ever managed to graduate, Kaos thought as he fished through the unfolded clothes stored within his closet box. Finally, he settled on the same things he always wore, which were sitting to the side of the box. He stumbled back as he pulled on his black sweats, wriggled into his tunic, slipped on his canvas shoes and grabbed a miscellaneous hairbrush he was pretty sure didn't actually belong to him. Kaos pulled the comb through his hair as he scrambled down the stairs, mumbling to himself as he chucked it to the side (Mother or Dyskord would pick it up eventually), grabbed his long coat off its hook, then careened into the kitchen as he put it on. The coat was far too big for him, swallowing his wiry frame whole like some beast made of shadows. Kaos hoped he would someday grow into it, but he had owned it for years now and no such luck had befallen him. Kaos climbed up onto the kitchen counter, eyeing his prize. The cookie tin, his ceremonial breakfast whenever Mother was out of the house. He pulled the lid off, then peered inside - only a few left. Just as Kaos reached his little hand down into the metal tin, Dyskord walked through the back door, tracking mud onto the scuffed tile flooring.

"What do you think you're doing," he spoke, kicking his boots off, never once taking his eyes off Kaos.

"Oh, please. Like you'd tell Mother," Kaos rolled his eyes, sliding the cookie jar back into place, his bounty in hand.

"Maybe I will."

"Then maybe I'll have to tell her who really passed your final exams for you, brother."

The two locked death glares, the only noise being that of the leaky faucet and the occasion chirp of the birds outside. Kaos cracked a smile, Dyskord following.

"Just grab me one too, short stack. Then we've gotta go."

Kaos shoved the cookie into his mouth, then grabbed the tin once more. His face reflected back at him on the polished sides. Big eyes the color of copper, a piggish upturned nose, his cheeks puffed out like an chipsquirrel's, gathering food for the winter. Cookie crumbs mingled with the imperfections that littered his skin, freckles, blemishes, and his birthmarks - mirrored patches of darker skin that clustered around his eyes. They had gotten lighter with age, but they still bugged him sometimes. One little snaggletooth stuck out from the corner of his mouth - an issue that could have been fixed with braces. If he hasn't broken them nearly the day after he got them. He may not have been the 'peak of perfection', but Kaos didn't mind. It made him unique. It made him… special. Though, that paired with his lackluster height usually ended up with him being at the receiving end of a bullying entourage.

"You got everything you need, baby brother?"

Kaos nodded, then hopped down from the counter. "Yes, mother. I have everything."

Dyskord rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Backpack?"

"At the front door."

"Lunch?"

"Won't be there long enough to need one."

"Catalyst?"

"Harvested it last night."

"Well, aren't you prepared," Dyskord chuckled. "Specimen?"

"That’s your job, remember?" Kaos smirked. "I have it all thought out, Dyskord. Don't worry."

"Well then, what's your plan for when Mother finds out?"

"Who said she'll find out? The only way she would is if someone rats me out." Kaos took a bite from his second cookie, handing the extra to Dyskord as he pushed past into the main hall. The high ceilings and towering walls making him seem even smaller; like an ant in a dollhouse.

"If I'm this deep in, why would I rat you out and risk getting in trouble myself?"

Kaos shrugged, walking backwards so that he could watch Dyskord's movements. "I don't know, brother, but the only variable that could possibly go wrong is you. So as long as you play along, everything should be absolutely peachy~" He grinned, then shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It tasted a little old, probably a month or two, but a stale cookie was better than no cookie. And at least Kaos knew that batch hadn't been poisoned.

Dyskord chuckled dryly, placing the cookie in the little leather satchel that hung at his hip. Kaos knew he'd probably eat it later. Dyskord could never resist a cookie. "Alright, alright, tiny genius. I'll trust you on this. But don't blame me when this plan fails too."

"It won't. Trust me."

Kaos grabbed his backpack off its hook, unzipping it just to triple check its contents. It never hurt to be certain.

"Communicator?"

"Yep."

"You got your diary~?"

Kaos whipped around, glaring. "It's not a diary! It's my journal of doom!!"

Dyskord patted Kaos on the head, ruffling his umber hair, a condescending smile on his lips. "Sure it is, baby brother."

Kaos grumbled under his breath, turning back to his backpack. He shrugged Dyskord off, trying to focus. Sure enough it was all there. Homework, lunchbox, communicator, his 'journal' - everything important was there and accounted for. As Kaos struggled to zip up his backpack once more, his gaze drifted to the portrait that hung above the door. His family, painted in exquisite detail, framed by an intricate wooden frame. Dyskord, with his old ashy blonde hair (Kaos had suggested he dye it neon green since it was a similar level of horrible against his skin tone, but Dyskord had insisted on vibrant silver.) Mey sat on Mother's lap, creasing the dress she had spent all of the previous day ironing to get it absolutely pristine, because she wouldn't sit still. Mother bore her usual scoul, contrasted by Mey's wide grin. If their expressions weren't so different, Mey might have been mistaken for a younger Mother. Father stood to the side of her, behind Dyskord, wearing a similar expression to his wife. Kaos had been surprised he hadn't been absent for that too. Looking down to where he was immortalized in paint, Kaos stood the front - where the painter had instructed him to stand; wearing a matching suit and tie like the rest of his siblings - though he at least still had his scarf. Black and grey striped knit that was as long as he was tall, coiled around his neck and draped over his shoulder. Kaos never went anywhere without his scarf, and even though he heard Hel from Father afterwards, it was worth it. As Kaos slung his backpack over his shoulder, he trailed his hand to his neck, reaching to feel the soft warmth of his scarf. Instead, his hand only met skin.

"C'mon Kaos, we gotta get going. We don't want you being late for-"

"My scarf!!" Kaos shouted. "Where's my scarf!?"

"Kaos, it's not even that cold out. You don't need your- oooor you can go get it. That's fine too, I guess." Dyskord watched as Kaos chucked his overstuffed backpack to the side, the contents spilling across the floorboards as he raced upstairs to his room. He swore, Kaos would be the death of him one of these days, but at least his life was interesting with him around. Dyskord just wished he wasn't so, well, chaotic. But he supposed that came with the name.

Kaos threw the door to his room open, his breath catching in his throat. He had been wearing it when he fell asleep, where could it have gotten off to!? Had he taken it off when he got dressed? No, it wasn't by his closet box. Was it in his loft? No, no. Maybe it was in the blanket pile he had created that morning. Or maybe it was- Kaos froze, slowly turning towards the window, the familiar tap tap tapping of the tree branch against the grimy glass greeting him.

"You," he glowered at the tree branch, carefully approaching the window. "What did you do with it!?"

The tree branch just continued its endless rapping against the window pane, mocking him, oblivious to the enemy it had made. Kaos stormed forward, climbing up onto his desk, kicking the papers that covered it onto the ground.

"Give it back now!!" He pressed his face against the glass. "Or so help me, you will meet your untimely demise!!"

He was given no response. Not that Kaos expected one. The trees were always conniving, this one especially. They seemed innocent, but beneath that bark was a dastardly deciduous demon, lulling him into a false sense of security, laying in wait. But Kaos knew. Kaos knew the truth about these creatures. And he wouldn't let them get the upper hand. Never once taking his eyes from the branch, Kaos slid open his window slowly, then peered out. There it was, as he had assumed, his scarf. In the patchy grass, between the gnarled roots of the beast. He shot the tree one last glare, muttering to himself, then stepped out onto the small ledge right outside his window. At least that was a perk of being small, he could fit into spaces others couldn't. Kaos stood up, balancing himself against the wall, holding onto one of the few bricks that jutted out from the flush surface. He had done this many a time, but every time he felt butterflies congregating within his stomach, a few fluttering into his throat. The wind in his hair, the view of the forest beyond- painted in autumnal colors of deep purples and dry oranges, the grounds below in desperate need of tending. All of it flooding his senses, paired with the impending damage he would receive at one wrong move. It was all… magnificent. But admiring the view wasn't what he was here to do, no. Kaos shook his head, reaching out to grab the closest branch, hoisting himself into it. The tree may have been a conniving, callous creature, but at least it served a purpose. That being a way for Kaos to get to the ground without completely shattering all of his fragile little bones.

"Kaos, come on!!" He heard Dyskord call from inside. "I have other stuff I need to do today, if you don't hurry up you'll have to take the school ship!!"

Kaos rolled his eyes, carefully stepping down onto the next branch. Dyskord was so impatient. He'd get down, grab his scarf, and they'd be on their way before his older brother could utter another idiotic sentence. Kaos slid onto another branch, this one bending slightly under his weight. He shot the tree a glare, as if daring it to try something, before stepping onto the next one. This one, unluckily, wasn't so forgiving. Before Kaos knew what was happening, the branch had buckled beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground - the branches he fell past slicing at his skin. At least the damp earth was there to soften his fall. Kaos propped himself up on his arms, spitting out a chunk of dirt as he silently cursed himself out for letting down his guard. At least he has his scarf. Kaos stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes best he could before assessing the damage. A few cuts here and there, his coat would definitely need some stitches, but at least nothing was broken. Kaos scooped his scarf up, wrapped it loosely around his neck, then froze. He heard the sound of an engine revving up, the realization hitting him all too late.

"WAIT!!" Kaos shouted, making a mad dash for the front door. "Dyskord, I'M COMING!!"

As Kaos rounded the corner, three things crossed his mind. His backpack laying on the path that lead up to the door, the idiocracy of his older brother; and the boat that belonged to the very same, the one that was usually docked at the edge of the island, now whirring off into the horizon without him.

"YOU IDIOT!!" Kaos shouted, skidding to a stop. He swore he heard his brother laughing over the sound of the motor, which was quickly fading away. "I'M TELLING MOTHER!!"

Of course he wouldn't. Telling Mother had become an empty threat within the family, no longer holding any weight after countless empty promises of "Mother'll hear about this" and "I'm telling mom" (the latter usually used by Mey) had been thrown around for years. But it was the only comeback he could dream up in the moment. He had other problems than coming up with a witty response that Dyskord couldn't even hear. He'd get him back later. After he was done with his current plan. Then he'd have all the time in the world to get back at Dyskord for being a complete ignoramus and putting a petty act of defiance over the welfare of the plan. That's what Kaos got for letting him in on it, he supposed, kicking a loose pathing tile out of frustration. His kick barely dislodged it, but it was at least something. Kaos grabbed his bag up off of the ground, finally noticing the note taped to it. Have fun taking the school ship. Of course. Kaos crumpled the note up as he swung the backpack over his shoulder, muttering to himself all the while. He looked around, starting to head in the direction the school ship usually docked. It was quite a ways away, so the sooner he left, the better chances he had of catching it. Why it didn't dock closer to his home was beyond him, and despite the complaints he had lodged with the school board and his mother, no changes had been made. Rolling fields of splotchy, yellowing grass were laid out before Kaos, broken up by the occasional stone pathway. Cracking with age and broken up like a checkerboard. The wound through the dirt haphazardly, interrupted by the occasional tree (which Kaos did his best to keep his distance from) or the start of a rickety bridge that connected the nearby islands. On his usual walks, Kaos would have stopped on the bridges, kneeling down and seeing how far down he could reach into the abyss below, waiting for something to float by that he could possibly add to his collections. Today, he had no time for that. Today, he actually had somewhere to be. Kaos counted his steps, glancing over his shoulder occasionally to watch as his home got smaller and smaller. From here, it looked normal. Simple even. But the imposing aura it cast still lingered in the air. The tall spires piercing the wispy clouds themselves, high stone walls and arched windows covered in moss and ivy. An overbearing, ancient labyrinth of a castle Kaos called home. Sometimes Kaos was convinced the place was still standing because of the grime it was caked in, which was the excuse he gave himself whenever it came to cleaning. If he did a good job, he might not have a home to go back to. It was an excuse Mother was never fond of. Kaos remembered one year he had been put on ivy duty during their yearly cleaning. He had encountered a particularly dastardly tangle of vines on the west side, one that had kept him trapped for the majority of the day. Mother had found him deep asleep in their verdant web after the sun had set, and Kaos hadn't been allowed near that part of the castle for a good while afterwards. Kaos sighed, a smile creeping its way onto his face at the memory, his home now simply a silhouette against the backdrop of the endless sky. He looked ahead, finally making out his target. The old barge that served as the school ship. Badly, at that. It was only a few islands away, where the grass was more lush and the terrain less harsh. Kaos picked up his speed, going from a light jog to a sprint, barely feeling his feet touch the ground. He was gonna make it. He could still see students boarding, he still had time, he could still make it.

"WAIT! WAIT!!" He shouted, causing a few heads to turn, but only for a brief moment.

Kaos forced himself through the crowd, nearly doubling over as he struggled to catch his breath, one hand on the strap of his backpack and the other on his scarf, just making sure it was still there. He ignored the dirty looks he was getting as the line began moving again, following the students ahead of him up the ramp. Even from his low vantage point he could tell the state of the ship. Noisy and overcrowded, with just a sprinkle of staff trying desperately to keep order. The chatter of students loud enough to make the patchwork steel hull of the ship vibrate. Kaos found his mind wandering as he and the rest of the students were herded onto the ship like animals, personal space a thing of the past. Everyone around him was at least double Kaos' height, leaving him lost in a forest of legs and torsos shuffling him forward. It would have been humiliating if he wasn't used to it. Ever since he was little, (well, littler) he had been the runt of the litter. Mother had wanted to hold him back because of it, even though she admitted he was smart enough to be a grade ahead. But here he was, stuck in a sea of people all taller than him, even at a grade lower than he should have been. At least that meant he excelled compared to everyone else - when he actually applied himself, that is. It was so hard to apply himself when everything was so easy. Kaos wanted a challenge, he needed one, he-

BANG!

Kaos stumbled back, bumping into the person behind him. He clutched his hands over his ears, the world vibrating around him. He faintly heard the person behind him mutter something as they pushed past, pulling him back to reality. What in the Ancients' names was that?! Kaos looked around, stepping off of the ramp and onto the deck of the ship, feeling the engine start to whir to life. He frowned. It must've just been a misfire of the engine. The ship was old and broken, misfires were bound to happen. But even then, Kaos couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Kaos peered over the edge of the ship, watching as the island below them slowly began drifting away. The smell of engine fuel and strong perfume filling the air. Kaos gripped the rusting side rail, then looked back to the deck of the ship. The talking had only grown louder, everyone trying to be heard over the roar of the engine and of course one another. It was an idiotic sight, people huddled into groups. Elves and Ents playing a quick game of Skystones, a group of Mabu discussing the best way to prepare beetroots for their cooking class - even the Gillmen were chatting it away, all in their own little worlds. Everyone seemed to have a group. Everyone, but Kaos. It wasn't a bother to him, though, not at all. Why would it have been? He had himself, and that was all Kaos needed. Kaos began making his way through the crowds of kids, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on the floor. He slid his backpack off once he got to his usual corner, plopping himself down. He looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by, the chatter around him becoming nothing but white noise. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, running the plan through his head once more. It would be perfect. He just needed to make it through the day.

***

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.4

a/n: I love Gei here xD do ya’ll love Gei? I hope you guys love his extra ass <3

warnings: this cannot be read solo, cursing(?), subtle flirting

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love

Taking your planner from your bag, you jotted down a reminder to dig up some old case files regarding the 3 villains Tsukauchi had just mentioned. Everything seemed clearer now as to why Overhaul managed to snag an invite. He was one of them no matter what his ideals were.

Forking the last bit of cheesecake, you stuffed your planner back into your bag and exited the shop. Scanning the area for any black cars, you were relieved that no one had been tailing you. There was a rising suspicion that Overhaul stalked you but perhaps it was simply chance. You couldn’t blame him though, you were usually buried under stacks of documents at this time of day.

Walking towards your first stop, you had to interview a witness by the convenience store. One of the cases you were working on involved arson. At first glance, you ruled it out to be some villain’s nasty prank. The more you dived into the case, you realized this was organized.

“So you recall seeing a person with black hair across the street?” You questioned the cashier while eyeing some chocolate bars. “Do you remember what he wore or an estimate of his height?”

“I can’t really picture his height but I do remember him wearing a dark blue jacket with a high collar.” Peering at the glass doors, the witness tried to think back on the events that had happened. It had been a week since the incident but the fear was still there. “He just stared at the store for a couple of minutes, I remember. After that, he turned to that corner over there. Moments later, the explosion happened.”

“Hmm…” You mentally took down notes. Nothing much to take from that statement. “Well, thank you for your time and if you see something please don’t hesitate to call.”

Handing him your business card, you exited the store and crossed the street. Heading towards the corner mentioned, you scanned for any possible belongings left behind or a tell tale sign the initial investigators failed to see. Nope. Empty-handed.

Making your way back to the precinct, you felt a vibration in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you stopped walking and you blinked yourself back to reality.

You: Thanks for the cheesecake. Not gonna work.

Overhaul(?): Bold of you to assume I was after something.

Would it be logical to reply to his message? Moving aside to let people walk, your thumb tapped the locked screen. Generally speaking, there would be nothing wrong if you answered back. Communication was key, afterall. And, to top it off, he was basically your partner for this mission. Maybe some playful banter here and there wouldn’t hurt. That’s all you’ve been doing, anyway.

Chewing on your lower lip, you scowled and put your phone back into your pocket. Tsukauchi was right. His charm was strong. Either that or you're just paranoid of being kidnapped by one of the strongest men in the yakuza. Yet, a part of you wanted to know if he was waiting for your response. Probably not. Facing your gray cubicle once again, you rummaged through the metal file bin and pulled out a rather thick manila envelope. Closing the drawer with your foot, you tossed the envelope to your desk and began to search for what you needed.

The first document you found was of Nokusu. Looking at his quirk information, you took into account his ability to bend and manipulate shadows. The small footnote indicated that light played no weakness to his quirk. He wasn’t that up there in terms of ranking but he knew his cards well enough.

Setting it aside, the next file you picked up was of Tamisura. Ahh. You remember her all too well. Still an intern at the time, it was still clear as day the way the chief of police came with a rather huge gash on his chest. Healing him took 4 days and the only thing he mentioned was a name. Tamisura.

There was no detail about her quirk. Flipping a few more pages, the chief’s statement was all you had.

‘It seems as if her quirk gives her momentum. Stopping her movements was impossible.’ That’s what it stated. With the number of quirks present, it was a little too vague for your liking. Oh well. You had an idea and you could pull some straws with that. Stacking it on top of Nokosu’s file, you found the last of the three.

Akuji. Holder of one the most annoying quirks to deal with. Telepathy. Everyone is an open book when it comes to his mind.

Ransacking the files, you let out a loud and long groan. To your amazing luck, their profiles all had masks covering their faces. No stranger to this turn of events, you thought about contacting your confidants about possible information regarding these people but even you didn’t want to risk their safety. Villain or not. It became a habit of yours to make sure the favors you ask for are worth it.

Resting your chin on your palm, you reached for your phone and unlocked it. The first thing you see was the exchange you and birdman had. Checking at Tsukauchi’s desk, you found him hunched and busy encoding his cases. Eyes back on the screen, you decided to send a little message.

You: Busy?

Overhaul(?): Are you after something now?

You: I hate you. But, yes.

Overhaul(?): No.

What were you even expecting? Amused with the little exchange, you stretched your joints and packed your stuff. The profiles of the three villains now tucked into your bag. With only 15 minutes left before your shift ends, you took the liberty of scrolling the internet for dresses. Told to dress appropriately for the gala, you would have to comply.

There was no theme indicated but you were sure to go there with a black ensemble. That color was the safest and it was also the easiest to pick from. Getting a faint picture as to what you wanted to buy, you peaked at the wall clock and immediately turned your desktop off.

"Before you leave," Tsukauchi piped up. Peaking at you from his cubicle. "Chief wants to talk to you."

Nodding at his message you went up the stairs and hummed towards the chief's office. He'd probably want updates. He always did have a knack for annoying you. The mission barely started and he's already pinning you to the corner. Knocking on his door, you heard the permission to enter.

Now seated on the guest sofa, you gave him a respectful bow. As did he. Telling you to sit down, you obeyed.

"I request a little update of the mission." He began. The not so subtle exhale from your nostril only proved how obvious he could be at times. "How's working with Overhaul?"

"The status of the mission only has one movement. The upcoming gala has a few villains joining as well." You reported. "I'm not so familiar with how the yakuza works in big events like this, though. So, I took...no. I decided to join the event with him as my plus one."

"Smart choice." He nodded at the developments. "Has he taken his mask off?"

Snickering at the question, you shook your head.

"Take that as a side quest of yours." He instructed. "We need an update on his profile. We're still empty as to what he looks like without that mask. Gain his trust. Just enough for him to show you his face."

Great. Your personal mission just evolved into official business. Accepting the task, you pushed it aside and would rather let things take its course naturally. Overhaul was something else and there was no way you would rush things. Especially if it meant him showing something personal. You were keeping your word. One purpose and one purpose only.

Conveying what he needed to, he dismissed you and you were more than excited to get the hell out of his suffocating office.

Take out. That's what you needed to unwind.

Now that you were walking down the street, establishments began to light up the path. Neon signs heavily contrasting the orange and pink skies. With the mall coming to view, you decided now would be a good time to look for an outfit. And, mostly because shopping calmed your nerves each time you had the talk with the chief.

The air condition was heaven. Heading to the area where dresses were sold, you went inside the first store you saw.

The dresses were nice but came with a high price. Though thanks to your dad, your shopping needs were never a problem. Keeping yourself glued to the ground was always simple. With the job you had, the temptation of impulsive buying always flushed down the drain. Instead, the money put under your name went into aiding your missions and a few under the table deals here and there.

Seeing a dress you liked, you decided to try it on.

Inside the plush fitting room, you stared at your reflection. This brand always did good at flaunting the curves you had. The amount of running and training you did paid off. The dress was backless save for a small but secure bow resting on your nape. The lace mesh wrapped your arms delicately and the bead work was intricate. He would like this.

"Whot?" You thought out loud. Scratching your nape, your vision trailed towards your face in the reflection. Your cheeks were a little pink and once again your heart rate was a little quicker than normal. “Lack of sleep. Caffeine overdose. Yes.”

Deciding to buy the said dress, you were accompanied to the counter by the clerk. As they were preparing the box and paper bag, you scanned a few trinkets inside locked glass boxes. Most of them jewelry for women and studs for men. They did look nice but you weren’t a big fan of diamonds.

One did capture your attention. Moving closer to it, you saw a shiny gold pair of cufflinks. Upon closer inspection, you saw how the small jewelry had what looked to be a crow. It was small but distinguishable if you knew your birds. Checking the tag, it wasn’t all that expensive. Y20,000.

Okay, maybe it was a little expensive but it looked hella worth it.

“Here’s your dress, miss~” The clerk snapped you out of your thoughts. The smile she used on all customers showing on her face. Her cherry red lips popped due to her pale skin. Accepting the bag, you glanced one more time at the tiny trinket. She seemed to catch up quickly. “Those are limited edition Bivenchy cufflinks. Would you like to see them?”

“Uh, w-” You let out a defeated sigh and agreed to look at the cufflinks.

An hour later, you were now back in the comfort of your apartment. The big paper bag with your dress now laid flat on your coffee table. Beside it, a smaller box with the brand’s name displayed in the center. Sending death glares to the impulsively bought item, you took out the contents and flopped onto your sofa.

Flipping the lid open, inside were the same cufflinks. They seemed to shine even more with the lights your unit had. Cursing yourself, you hadn’t put into consideration that a guy like Overhaul would probably have this item already. Or, something even more expensive knowing him. Closing the box, you placed it on the table and did what you had to do for the rest of the night.

Now that you were ready for bed, you scrolled down to Gei’s contact and called him.

“Hellooo my sweet quiet friend.” He greeted. The faint sound of television could be heard in the background. “What can I do for thee?”

“Hair and make up in two days, is that alright?” You asked shyly. When it came to underground thugs or villains, you were hella confident in asking for favors or settling deals. But when it came to Gei, you were like a child in her first day of school.

“Wanna look good for yo man, I presume?” He teased. For sure, his right eyebrow was cocked high by now.

“I wanna look good for the people in the gala.” You defended yourself. Twirling a few strands of your hair, you let out a yawn. “And, I don’t trust myself with makeup.”

“What time will he be pickin you up, booboo?”

“6. So, you can drop in at 4.”

“Copy on that.” He agreed. “OH OH OH. Did you buy a dress? Please tell me you’re not wearing that monstrous thing from 2 years ago. Honey, that color made me want to puke.”

Cringing at the memory of that vile yellow and purple dress, you THOUGHT you looked good in.

“I went shopping. Don’t worry.”

“What brand?”

“Auscer de la Venta…”

“YAS BEECH! WIG SUH-NATCHED!” He screeched through the line. “I swear to Queen Todrick, if his jaw ain’t gonn drop, imma whoop. His. Ass. even if it kills me. Oooh~ You think he’ll take his mask off?”

“Probably not. I doubt he’d even eat anything at the gala.” There it was again. The second person to wonder about what he was hiding underneath. There was the idea that he hid his face so he could get away if things didn’t turn out. But you recalled his explanation that he hates the air around him. “He hates dust so taking the mask off would probably be the last thing he would ever do.”

“Oh my lords.” Gei breathed out. “If he disappears when the food comes, I bet my money he’ll be eating in the men’s toilet.”

Okay. That made you laugh. Hopefully, you wouldn’t picture that scenario when he comes pick you up.

Gossiping for a few more minutes, your energy levels were now gone. Saying farewell to your friend, the moment you closed your eyes, you immediately fell asleep.

- - - - -

are yall enjoying the story so far? :’) comment or message me if you want to be a part of Overhaul’s waiting list or any questions about the story :)

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #my simping grows everyday for this garbage man

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masquerade-story · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4 - Memories

Lillian awoke late into the evening, after everyone collectively agreed to take a nap and process everything Crystal told them. Her throat was dry and scratchy, so she carefully rolled out of bed to avoid disturbing Grey, who'd crawled into her bed for comfort like he always did when he was upset, and padded quietly out of the bedroom.

Since there wasn't going to be any sort of heating bill, they'd left the mysteriously working heater on to combat the unexpectedly cold weather. Lillian stopped by a window to peek outside, and was momentarily startled when she could pick out individual leaves on distant trees.

"Right, our vision got all fancy." Lillian laughed softly at herself, turning her gaze from the trees to the starry sky.

An unfamiliar sky.

Three moons scattered across the horizon, a couple of planets close enough for their rings to be distinct to the naked eye, and a brilliant aurora ribbon streaming across more stars than Lillian ever remembered seeing when she looked up back on Earth.

"There's no North Star," she whispered to herself, her warm breath briefly melting some frost on the window glass. "Different constellations, different horoscopes... I wonder how long a year is here? Or a season? Can we... Even communicate with people to find out?"

An oppressive sense of loneliness settled in her chest. Lillian blinked back a few tears and turned away from the window, resuming her earlier mission of a glass of juice. She slipped downstairs into the kitchen, drank an entire glass, and went to bring her second cup upstairs in case she woke up again, when a soft sound caused her to pause mid-step toward the stairs.

Sobbing. Wretched, mournful sobbing, from the living room which currently had no light on.

Lillian felt her heart clench in sympathy, and changed route.

Rayne sat on the couch, curled into the corner with a blanket around her shoulders and a phone in her hands. She glanced up when Lillian approached, hurriedly dashing her tears with the corner of the blanket. "H-hey, what's up?"

Lillian had the sense to put her juice cup down on an end table before sitting heavily on the couch, encroaching on Rayne's personal space with reckless abandon. "I was gonna ask you the same thing. Why are you down here alone in the dark?"

"Oh, I..." Rayne muttered, her gaze flicking back to the phone. Lillian glanced down, and saw a photo of Rayne and her boyfriend trying on mouse hats during their trip to Disneyworld. His expression was exasperated, but his affectionate gaze was fixed on Rayne's laughing face.

Rayne locked her screen and set the phone down, but it was too late and she knew it. She retreated further into the warmth of her blanket, faking a shiver to cover the fact she was trying to hide her face.

Neither Rayne nor Crystal appreciated it when other people saw them cry, but Lillian knew that it was sometimes exactly what someone needed, whether they wanted it or not. So she leaned on Rayne's shoulder, resting a gentle hand on the other woman's knee.

"You know," Lillian said softly, closing her eyes. "There's three moons."

Rayne was quiet for a moment. Then she sniffled, before whispering: "Really?"

"Yeah. And some ringed planets, and an aurora. Wanna see?"

The bundle of blanket shook in a hesitant nod, and both Lillian and Rayne moved to sit on the window seat overlooking the front yard, keeping throw pillows between them and the frozen glass to seal in their bodily warmth.

Silence stretched on between them as they stared together at the foreign night sky. Whenever Rayne gave a soft cry or pained whimper, Lillian reached over to squeeze her hand without turning to look at her, giving the other woman a measure of privacy while still providing comfort until she was ready to talk.

"It's unfair," Rayne whispered finally, reaching out of the blanket to draw a frowning face on the frosty glass.

Lillian nodded. "It ate our bonds so they all forgot us, but we still have to remember them? It's totally unfair."

"Actually..." Rayne looked over, locking gazes with Lillian, her dark brow furrowed. "That's the thing. Lils, do you remember your parents?"

"Of course. Robin and Larry-"

"Their faces, Lils."

Lillian opened her mouth, then immediately shut it. Her curious expression turned to one of realization, then panic suffused with horror. "No, I... What...?"

"I don't remember his face if I'm not looking at the photo," Rayne said, crossing her arms tightly under the blanket. "I don't remember his voice anymore. I did at first, but... Every passing moment, it's harder to remember the times we shared. The bad, the good. Even while looking at the photos! And I just... I felt like I should have a good cry, while I still felt enough lingering emotion for him to do it."

Lillian felt as though her heart was caught in her throat. She swallowed, swallowed again, then wheezed as she tried to remember how to breathe. Rayne hurriedly wrapped her arms around Lillian's shoulder, squeezing tight in a hug that contained all her comfort and sympathy.

"We'll do everything we can to remember, them, okay?" Rayne whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "Let's go wake Grey and Crystal, then we can all start writing stuff down. Alright?"

Nodding, Lillian clung desperately to Rayne's hand as they both hurried upstairs, rolling their respective siblings out of bed for an emergency meeting. Grey's horror was contrasted starkly by Crystal's numb nodding, as she apologized for not realizing it would happen. They dug into the boxes of personal belongings, finding some notebooks and pens, and sat together in the master bedrooms writing down everything they remembered about Earth and their loved ones until well into the next morning.

"On the one hand it's a mercy," Grey said sleepily, as he doodled another picture of his parents in the margins of his notebook. "So we won't be grieving our loss very long, I guess? But it still feels..."

"Wrong," Lillian mumbled, looking through her phone for a picture of her cat to use as a reference.

"It's not like the time was wasted," Rayne said, adding another bullet point to the list she was writing. "Our experiences shaped who we are whether we remember them or not. It does feel pretty crappy, though..."

"I wonder, will they forget us like this?" Lillian asked, unable to stop the words in her heart from escaping. Her hand paused above the page, the pen in her hand shaking violently. "Will they just... Slowly forget us? Or was it sudden and merciful? Because this... This is cruel."

"Cruelty implies intention," Crystal said softly, her voice shaking almost as much as Lillian's pen. "That... Thing. The Eater. It didn't have any malice, it was just hungry. But I dunno if that makes things better or worse..."

"I dunno man, you ever seen a cat catching prey? Pretty sure eating something alive has some inherent malice in it." Grey grumbled, trying to force his chicken scratch handwriting into something legible.

Crystal, who'd already given up on her own handwriting and embraced the chaotic glyphic nature of her lettering, nodded sagely in agreement. "That's true. I got the impression the Eater wasn't exactly sentient or sapient though. More like a force than a being, if that makes sense? Or maybe I just can't conceive of it, since that thing exists outside our dimensions of understanding."

"You say that so easily, do you even know how wild that whole statement was?"

"Do you even know how wild this whole situation is?"

"Look, we've passed absurdity at this point. Now I'm just down with whatever weirdness comes our way."

"We don't have to pay bills anymore," Rayne said slowly, staring at her paper. Her handwriting was the neatest by far, and she'd finished writing down most important events she could think of, but she kept having a nagging feeling she'd left something out so she kept reading the pages over and over hoping to trigger another memory. "We won't have to buy groceries unless there's things we want specifically that wasn't in our house to begin with. The electricity will never go out, damage to the property will be repaired, and even though we're in a new world with unknown levels of development and technology, we will never have to worry about toilet paper. In exchange for a very comfortable standard of living, we lost our connection to our home and families."

"Personally speaking I think it's fair," Crystal said with a scoff. "But that's because our family sucks so I'll be glad to forget them. All my most important people are here with me! I know Robin and Larry will take good care of all our cats, my exes all sucked, and my other friends will get along just fine without me. I don't have anyone to worry about, just regrets for stuff I never got to do. Like visiting the Grand Canyon, or going on a long cruise."

"I wanted to hike around Europe someday..." Rayne said wistfully.

"I wanted to vacation in the tropics. Or maybe Spain? For like, two years. With some hot guys and infinite fruity alcohols." Grey said, staring off into space with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"I wanted to be famous enough for us to visit the space station," Lillian sighed. Grey snorted, and everyone started laughing in a combination of absurdity and delirium from lack of sleep. They started listing everything they could think of, starting with shopping sprees and game show appearances, and ending with complex bank and casino heists to dismantle capitalism.

When Crystal started dozing off while sitting up, they all agreed to get some sleep for real. The notebooks were stacked lovingly on one of the end tables, which reminded Lillian to run downstairs and chug her long-forgotten cup of juice in the living room before trudging back upstairs into bed.

------

"We can't just stay in the house forever, right?" Grey muttered as he stared out the living room window later that night, curled up on the window seat with his knees hugged to his chest.

"Technically we could," Rayne said, drumming her fingers against the recliner arm as she waited for her laptop to boot. "Infinite food and basic supplies, stuff for our hobbies... We have our instruments, we have our computers and game consoles and several external drives worth of movies and books and music since you and Crystal obsessively insist on collecting or hoarding anything of interest for later use."

"Hey, hey." Grey wagged a finger and feigned an offended scowl. "Look at our situation. How bored would we be if the two of us didn't hoard everything? In fact, maybe our desire to hoard entertainment was preparing for this day!"

"Damn psychics always preparing for everything they couldn't possibly know about," Rayne muttered rebelliously, and Crystal laughed. She'd stretched out on half of the corner couch taking up an entire section of the living room by itself, looking cozy with a pile of blankets and her special edition Switch.

"It's only gonna get worse from here, Ray."

"Open your town, I need to sell my oranges," Lillian interrupted, nudging Crystal's feet from her spot on the other side of the corner couch.

"Alright, lemme finish making this waterfall first."

"Your villagers are never gonna have scurvy again for like, three generations."

"That many oranges? Isn't that a bit overkill?"

"If they don't want an entire island nation's agricultural sector's worth of citrus they should learn to adjust their economy for inflation."

"You know the shop is run by literal children, right?"

"It's good to learn early that nepotism leads to ruin. The business world is harsh and so am I."

Rayne chuckled at the sound of Lillian's low, malicious cackling, but her expression swiftly turned serious. "What do you mean it's gonna get worse, Coco?"

"All four of us have abilities for real, right? Being in this world is gonna make them grow exponentially, whether we try to train them or not. New ones will pop up too, or existing ones will change a little as they grow. Okay Lils, gate's open." Crystal spoke nonchalantly, but every word drained a bit more color from Rayne's face. Meanwhile, Grey turned away from the window with an excited glint in his eyes.

"So psychic powers can get real strong in this world?"

"Yeah. The impression I got when we were coming over was... Magic exists here, and it's something anyone can learn to use with practice. But abilities like ours, psychic powers? Those you have to be born with, and it's rare. That's about as much as I know about it though," Crystal sighed and shrugged.

"Can you list everything you know about our situation?" Rayne said, opening a new document on her computer and typing away with her nose inches from the laptop screen. "I wanna write it all down. I got the thing about our bonds and memories, and the house being indestructible-"

"It's not indestructible, just protected." Crystal seemed startled as soon as the words left her mouth, as though the information was somehow new. She furrowed her brow, nose wrinkling as she carefully examined her thought process. "I see, protected... Like a barrier, almost? It'll always rebuild itself and restock supplies overnight no matter what happens, even if it's all burnt to ash, but the property itself is also shielded unless we draw attention from a big threat."

"A big threat? Like what?"

"I don't know. Big animals like those Nessies on the beach yesterday. Or monsters like the Eater, maybe?"

"Monsters?!" Lillian sat up straight, pulling her feet under her body. "There's monsters!?"

"There's magic, why wouldn't there be monsters too?" Grey pointed out, but his twin just stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's just an assumption," Crystal hurriedly explained. "For my power to work, I'd have to come into contact with stuff related to what I want to know about in order to get more information, I can't just pull stuff out of the ether whenever I have questions!"

"Then how do you know what you know already?"

"Well, we were in contact with the house. The house is made with really powerful magic, so I learned magic exists, and that it was used to make the house echo and ensure our supplies remain the same. I think I also learned about the barrier then, but didn't think about it or really absorb the info cuz I was thinking about other things, so it only just popped up." Crystal shrugged and let out a half-hearted laugh.

"What about the Eater?"

"The Eater was menacing us directly and I looked at it so I was able to get some info on it and the bond-eating shenanigan, but not much else because it's way stronger than me, I think? And my power activated as soon as we started our... Transfer, I guess? Away from Earth. And you all were in the room with me, so I knew you all had powers as well as myself, got the basic gist of how mine work, and that we'd all get much stronger whether we wanted to or not. That's really about it for what I know. I told you it wasn't much."

"Why the house though?" Rayne muttered. "It just wanted to eat our bonds and it did that. So why did it drop us on another planet, and why give us this cushy house echo thing?"

Crystal shrugged again. "I honestly have no idea. I think I could know if I got a lot stronger, but... That won't be any time soon. I can tell there's a reason, though. I just dunno what."

"Maybe it's compensation?" Grey said, his expression hopeful.

"Or bait, like a beacon, so it can find us again..." Lillian whispered with a shiver, and everyone's faces fell. Seeing their reactions, she hurriedly straightened her spine and forced a smile to her face. "But it didn't hurt us, and we're all still together. Imagine if we'd been flung to different planets instead of staying together!"

"That'd really suck," Grey agreed. "So like, Crystal, your power activates if you come into contact with stuff?"

"I think so. I'd have to test it to get the hang of how things work, precisely."

Grey chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. His expression made the three women exchange worried glances, especially once he started rubbing his hands together like a two-bit cartoon villain. "Looks like we got ourselves an excuse to head to that town for some reconnaissance!"

"In the snow?" Rayne asked, raising her eyebrows.

"With only summer clothes in our wardrobes," Crystal pointed out.

"We wore hiking boots for the walk up here so that'd be fine, but the warmest clothes we have right now are..." Lillian trailed off, then suddenly doubled over and started giggling.

Realization dawned on the others soon after, and Rayne covered her face with her hands. "Oh no."

"Oh yes!" Grey hissed, pumping his fist into the air. "That'll make one heck of an entrance, wouldn't it?"

"Our music video costumes? In PUBLIC!?" Rayne wailed while the others laughed.

"That might not be what we want to do though," Crystal said after her moment of laughter had subsided. "We don't know what kind of world this is. If they'll be friendly to strangers, especially ones who can't speak their language - or any language on this world. They won't know English, you know."

"But do we really have a choice?" Lillian asked, putting down her console and staring up at the ceiling. "We don't know anything about this world. About magic, except that it exists. About the people. And hiding here in our safe cozy house will be fine short term, but what about long term? Are we gonna spend our whole lives holed up in here?"

"I, for one, embrace the forest witch hermit lifestyle," Grey said. "And I know Crystal does too."

"Sure do. Cottage life."

Rayne sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't wanna be caught completely off guard by whatever nonsense comes our way. We know it's winter, but we don't know what the other seasons are like yet. What if they have a raining magma and diamonds from the sky season? We can't apply Earth logic here! Or if we can, we don't know to what extent! There were dinosaurs on the beach!"

"That's a fair point. There were indeed dinosaurs on the beach. Counter points?"

"There were dinosaurs on the beach."

"A fair counter point as well. I do want to see the dinosaurs up close."

"From a safe distance."

"Up close from a safe distance, of course."

"Plus, we don't know what's gonna happen with our powers. You said they'll get stronger, what does that mean?"

"I don't know. More powers will manifest, I think? And the ones we have already will be more potent. But I don't know how potent, or what exactly will happen."

"Exactly! You psychically downloaded only a little info about our situation and it gave you a nasty seizure! Right?"

"Pretty much."

"So what if something worse happens? A big huge infodump? If you can't control your powers, or shut it off when needed or whatever, what if..." Rayne's shoulders sagged.

"What if I have a big seizure every time I use my powers now?" Crystal finished, a wry smile on her face. "Yeah, I was wondering about that too. Honestly, everything about our situation has me so terrified I've circled back around to just feeling numb about it all."

"That's a hell of a mood," Grey sighed, stretching out on the window seat and propping his feet up against the wall. "Everything's happening so much, am I right? It's hard to be freaked out about everything simultaneously. It's easier to just phase out of existence, mentally speaking."

"I... Have an idea."

Everyone turned to look at Lillian, who sat perched on the edge of the couch. She glanced at all their faces, then offered a shy smile.

"Well? What's your idea, sis?" Grey encouraged, when his sister kept fidgeting in place instead of finishing her thought.

"Well, those warmer clothes we have... They're our costumes, right? And Crystal said we dunno how people would react to that sort of outfit, or to strangers in general, but what if... I mean... We have our instruments? What if... We pretended to be minstrels?"

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

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