#Ah this reminds me of when I spent that month at the Wheel of Pain
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We gotta remember that not only is Knuckles the last echidna in existence (which would make him very valuable for some), but has the same kind of powers that made Sonic into a target.
I can see him being hunted by wealthy warlords who see Knuckles as an exotic adquisition for display, or by fighting arenas who want him as their newest chamption. And you don't become known as "the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy" without having a few dozen bounties on your head too.
The fact that for movie Knuckles getting chucked into gladiatoral arenas is a regular thing plagues me.
And the fact that it seems like he’s got people actively hunting him down.
This planet was supposed to be hostile and abandoned one and yet right after Knuckles falls (not sure exactly how long) there are people who grab him and take him to an arena
So like, were these people somehow have a way to watch him and were just waiting for a moment where Knuckles is weakened to snatch him up?
How does he even deal with that?, because in the next panel he’s not surprised in the least, just asking where they’re taking him. THIS IS NORMAL FOR HIM.
dose that mean he has to deal with the idea that there are unseen people watching waiting for him to show any sign of weakness so they can snatch him up and throw him in a fight for other’s entertainment?
Even now when he’s with the wachowskis that’s got to linger. Is he worried that if he gets sick and can’t defend himself he’ll get snatched up and taken away? Or is he so used to it that it’s just ‘a thing that can happen’?
#Knuckles probably fought and escaped several colosseums#I can see the scavengers trying to find him#last time we've seen them they were working with Knuckles#but they probably have no alliance and just answer to the highest bidder#knuckles the echidna#knuckles#I love it when slice of family fics have Knuckles bringing up traumatizing anecdotes casually like#Ah this reminds me of when I spent that month at the Wheel of Pain#interstellar wanted warrior Knuckles and sweet momma's boy Knuckles should coexist because the contrast is hilarious
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Sorry. I meant to say pegging all four Arkham Riddlers. Origins, Assault on Arkham, Arkham City, and Arkham Knight. 😅
Hcs? For absolutely having fun with the best boys? Nsfw? Oh my tell me more~
Arkham riddler pegging hc’s
Warning:minors DNI 🔞 includes pegging,begging,just a bit of humiliation,dirty talk,it’s Eddie so praise
Origins
Initially thinks your joking
You reiterate your not,he’s a little internally panicked
So their you had him,all needy on HIS bed,hard and blushing. Perfect
Lubing him up down their gives you a taste of how shy he is about this
He tries to to not whine that first initial thrust in to him but he simply can’t help himself.
Apart if him is telling him this is demeaning
Another is telling him this is wonderful and he should enjoy every minute of it
His much smaller ego finally gives in when you’re whispering in his ear what a good boy he is
“You’re my good boy aren’t you Ed?” “Mhm”
Just watching him grip the sheets for a little bit of anchoring makes you go in for deeper thrusts each time
His release absolutely was worth it.
He starts absolutely demanding it when he needs to get work done at home. Something to make his boring work more exciting.
Bending him over his desk at home is 100% recommend
AOA
It was idea that hit you at least a week ago when you two were indulging in each other.
So when you started to get into it again you brought it up and genuinely he seems a little surprised such a thing was something you’d be up for.
But then you get him all vulnerable and leaning on his desk
And the gasp he lets out would make anyone purr
One of genuine pleasure as he starts leaking pre from how enjoyable it is
He practically starts demanding you go rough with him
Swore you can see little tears as your more patient thrusts happen
“D-don’t stop! Please?”
Practically starts begging for it all the time. And here you thought you’re the one supposed to begging for him.
Arkham city
Initially he’s fully against,saying how he’s a top dog in gotham blah blah
But when you start teasing him down there the idea doesn’t seem so bad……..
Of course pain makes him apprehensive at first
But then you start finding where he REALLY likes it and all of suddenly he’s a little submissive brat begging for more
Loves when you make him anticipate that next thrust
Of course he’ll still want to be the more active player in both your pleasure romps but he’s willing to let you take the steering wheel sometimes……if you deserve it of course
“Fine I like it you naughty minx,what do want? An award? You’ll get no participation trophy from me! Oh-!”
Only for you to shut him him up all over again
Arkham knight
Months of working on race tracks and electric pressure plates left the poor man stiff and sore all over.So when you suggest taking the reins for an evening he’s apprehensive.
So used to being the dominant one for months on end and yet you suddenly thought you had the ability to do something better than him. Made him laugh out loud at first
But then you remind him how a genius should be praised in every way~
Turns out washing the bed,getting him into and nice warm bath and praising him to the moon and back is the best way to get him up for the idea
Of course dealing with getting bruised and scratched leads him to have a much higher tolerance for that first initial thrust than he thought
But then he starts keeping those eyes closed as he becomes a moaning little mess.
“Ah ah. No looking away baby, I know you have that photographic memory. It’s always done so good for you before~”
“Oh please my superior processese could be better spent doing something far more-“
Only for him to let out another desperate moan
After that evening he made it a point of it possibly occurring again if you really behave and actually help him get his conundrums ready.
He’d never openly admit it but it’s nice to be taken care of sometimes~
#batman#x reader#batman rouges#headcanon#arkham riddler#arkhamverse#the riddler#asks#arkham knight#batman arkham series#assault on arkham#arkham origins#arkham city#smut#fanfic
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the devil’s tango.
summary — and when your demon boyfriend's best friends ruin your valentine's day plans with said demon boyfriend by lighting up a restaurant in flames, they make sure to apologise well. or, in which jisung, changbin and chan show you all the ways a devil can fuck a woman.
pairing — 3racha x reader
genre — smut | demons!au
ratings — 18+
word count — 14.4k words
warnings — mentions of flame, indications of objectification, mentions of themes of afterlife, heaven and hell | smut specifications under the cut
note — the way this was written only thanks to @chaangbin and her sprinto discord thing pwp and is totally inspired from this one nsfw asmr i chanced upon on reddit. happy reading and sinning, babes.
smut warnings —
i. groping, dirty talk, objectification, car sex, marking, slight temperature play, thigh riding, dirty talk, slight blood play (jisung gets a slight rush !!), grinding, fingering, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, vaginal stimulation, ruined orgasm;
ii. changbin calls you baby girl (!!), choking, cunnilingus, dirty talk, dumbification (changbin talks a loooot dirty, heads up !!) nipple play, breast play, pain kink, spitting, marking, so so so much marking omfg, intercrural sex, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex (better safe than anything else irl okay?), squirting, overstimulation, reader slips into subspace, changbin's kinda hard on the reader; chan bring you back from subspace because he's protective like that !!!
iii. tattooed!chan — chan has this huge dark feathered wing tattoo in his back omf and the reader has a tattoo kink, of sorts— dick piercing!chan, tongue piercing!chan, so !! much !! making !! out !!, calls you princess throughout the story because you are one, nipple play, breast play, daddy kink, grinding, spanking, pain kink, degradation (but chan like gives reader heads up in such a nice way because chan best boy !!), teasing cause chan won't give it to you just like that !!!, so much begging, pussy slapping, clitoral stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!), bulge kink, creampie, slight after care.
Chan thinks Valentine's Day is a marketing scheme by the very commercial, capitalistic world.
Not that his devilish self cared when he could have all the luxuries in the world in his hand by the very thought of it. Chan doesn't care even more because you, his girlfriend, loved Valentine's Day more than anything in this world, second only to your love for him. If anything, you loved Valentine's Day this much because of him.
And that is exactly why he is driving down the neat lane to this newly opened restaurant, right across the town, that you have been hyping up for months now. His fingers wrap around the steering wheel, shoes pressed flat against the gas as his other hand lies gently on your exposed thigh, thanks to your little black skirt riding up to his delight.
"Thank you for doing this," you mumble, your right hand shifting to place itself on top of his hand and grip at it softly. "You know, even after you hate all the couples out there, ever to exist."
Chan laughs, a hearty one in fact. His thumb rubs against the palmar side of your hand — one of the many affectionate things your devil does for you, albeit all the times he reminds you he is second to Lucifer himself.
"I don't hate them all." Lie. Chan knows that's an obvious lie and so do you. You click your tongue and your boyfriend bites his lower lip in a sheepish action, momentarily glancing at you before bringing his attention back on the road. "I like us. We make such a power couple. If anything, we should be the only couple to exist. Valentine's Day should exist for only one couple and that should be us."
Raising your eyebrows before letting it fall, face softening up instantly as you gaze at your boyfriend's side profile, you coo, "Aw. I see finally that there are things the devil too doesn't get at his will."
"You were one amongst them," Chan sniggers, his hand slowly trailing upwards as they shift from underneath your hand's grip. "But look where we are now."
Your breath hitches as his fingers slightly trace parallel lines as they move upwards and your eyelids flutter a bit. The pads of his fingers are hot against the coldness of your skin and the temperature difference is great enough to raise goosebumps on them.
"Chan." It's a whisper. Almost as if a great amount of determination is required for you to make this decision to turn him down. "You are driving. Plus, let's not ruin the night already. You've booked us a nice table in this amazing restaurant on this beautiful night."
"But I could make it even better." Chan licks his lower lip as he presses on the brakes, the heavy traffic stopping him from proceeding further. His hand is now completely underneath your skirt, short enough to his pleasure, fingers edging so close to your panties that your head involuntarily shifts back and your lips part.
You have been dating him for months now and every single time he touches you, you feel like a starved woman craving for every drop of his affection, desiring every part of him. Chan has been more than willing to comply, however. Your body reacts to his touches and his kisses like you are on heat and every time your boyfriend points it out, you blame it on his extraterrestrial, hellish skills; that he had you in his control.
Little do you know that it is the other way round. That Chan chooses to stay in the mortal world for you, to be with you. That he knows he will have to part with you one day when you shift over to the other side and maybe you could have sinned enough to be with him in the other world too. However, Chan knows how much God loves playing his cards and for that, he'll seize every single moment he gets with you.
All because he loves you. He is in love with you.
Chan realises this a few weeks back. Of course, he feels the weird thing humans call butterflies when you are so understanding of him being hell's very spawn. However, it is when you cook dinner for him as you wait for him to come, or how you ask him about his day and listen ardently that he realises: hell could never be worthy enough to have someone as beautiful as you. He shouldn't deserve you — fuck, the very act of him laying his filthy eyes on you should have sent your guardian angel into a frenzy but you chose him. You chose to be with him and for that, he'd mayhaps, thank that lousy old God up in the heavens.
"Dinner first," you strictly say. You remove his hand from underneath your skirt, wrapping your hand around his as you hold it up to kiss his knuckles. "When we get back home, I promise. In fact, I'll be the one to jump at you as soon as we reach the doorsteps." Chan laughs, mumbling, "Ah, my baby girl, my princess," under his breath and turns to look at the signal that has changed to green. He presses on the gas, speeding to reach the place on time as per reservations.
Having Chan's hand in yours roots you in confidence from your biggest fear deep down — that he would fade away from your life one day and worse, he'd take away the memories with him to rid you of the pain from his absence. His calloused hand grips onto yours and you hold it close to your chest, shutting your eyes for a minute because this is what Valentine's Day is all about for you. Bang Chan and everything your devil of a boyfriend is. He has shown you both heaven and hell and even though you did not believe in the afterlife, you do not mind going to hell, especially not if he is there with you.
"Why is there smoke up in the air?" Chan asks himself in absolute confusion as he takes the right on the road to the restaurant. Upon finding a neat parking spot about a hundred meters away from the restaurant, he gets out of the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman.
"Why, thank you!" You giggle, hand slapping right across your lips at the unpleasant sound that leaves your mouth and Chan smiles so widely at you, almost as if he is looking at his whole world right before him. You get out of the car and Chan closes the door right behind you.
"You look so damn pretty today, baby," Chan hugs you by the waist temporarily and snuggles into your neck, only to leave a quick kiss against it. You push him slightly and Chan chuckles, raising his right hand, that is not held by you, to protest. "I'm not making a move. We did get dressed well so let's have a nice romantic dinner first and when we get back home—" His voice drops a note lower. "We'll have a hot night and let this Valentine's Day wrap up rightfully as it should."
"And what's the right way, Mr. Hotshot Devil?"
"With my dick wrapped around your sweet little pussy," he smiles, lips extending so wide across his face that your cheeks heat up. He leans closer, pressing his lips against the pinna of your ears as he whispers, "You'll be begging me over and over and I'll treat you like the good little girl you are for me."
Your breath hitches and a flustered broken gasp leaves your lips as your fingers dig into his forearm. Chan's harmonious laughter over having made you a flustered mess rings in your ear till it is cut off by loud screams and foggy vision thanks to dark grey smoke.
"That's a lot of smoke," you comment worried as your boyfriend takes you by his hand and walks you down the road to the restaurant. He takes small strides to let you walk at ease. "I wonder if something is on— Fuck. The restaurant is in flames. It's on fire. Fuck."
Chan's eyes widen and he stares at the fire long enough to see two figures making their way towards you. Two very familiar faces too hard for him to ever forget, especially because Chan has spent more than a millennium with them.
"Jisung? Changbin?"
"Do you know them, baby?" You whisper into his ears, hiding slightly behind him as you cower at the magnanimous presence of the two individuals before you.
"Sometimes I wish I didn't," he rolls his eyes and folds his arms as he looks at the two younger demons in a gaze filled with doubt and suspicion.
"You lie!" The taller of the two says. "We had ramen together and you know ramen is exactly the way for people to bond."
"That's Jisung," Chan introduces as he slightly brings you forward. Your fingers play with the end of your short skirt, trying to bring it further down as the two men — demons, you presumed — looked at you and almost seemed to be studying you. "And the one by his side is Changbin."
"We've been friends for a while," Jisung informs and judges at Changbin who still continues to stare at you in displeasure. Did one of Chan's friends already not like you? You guess it is normal but deep down you know it hurts. You have always had the innate tendency to make sure that everyone liked you and the very thought of Chan's friends disliking you puts you to this sorrow as much as you hate to agree to it.
"Stop scaring my girlfriend, Bin," Chan glares back at the shorter of the two before drifting his attention to Jisung and enquiring, "How did this even happen?"
"That's on me. I crashed my car into the restaurant," Jisung rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Your eyes widen and you look further beyond the two men to see a beautiful red Maserati driven into the restaurant, caught in flames just as the whole building is.
"The people!" You scream, rushing forward. Chan holds your wrist in worry, holding you back, and you look at your boyfriend with eyebrows furrowed in concern. "They are my people."
Changbin scoffs, mumbling under his breath, "Stupid humans and their weird sense of morality at all the wrong times." Your heart drops at his words and Chan lets go of your hand, only to take a step forward in Changbin's direction, eyes narrowing at the demon.
Jisung laughs hesitantly, slipping right between the two males and pushing them away. He looks at you and rushes forward to lean close to you. You are taken aback by the sudden invasion of your personal space but something in his eyes holds you fixed, enamored by his whole being.
"There are no casualties, sweetheart. Don't worry!"
Jisung leans back soon after, standing firm on his toes, and turns to look at your boyfriend. Smiling as wide as you've seen any devil smile, he prompts, "Since all our Valentine's Day plans got ruined, what if we spent it together?" He glances at you and you look away, eyes catching Changbin's who still looks at you in suspicion.
"I—"
"Jisung," Chan warns.
Jisung rushes to Changbin's side. Directing his attention towards you all while nudging the hell out of Changbin's side, he wiggles his eyebrows, "He may seem rude like this but trust me, he's the tsundere kind of lover."
"What the fuck," Changbin mumbles and turns his head away. "I'm not saying anything."
Your boyfriend is very flustered at the very happenings around him. Jisung suggesting a possibility of a wild night, the restaurant going into flames, and his girlfriend, albeit looking scared, positively looking at this whole proposal — maybe it has been too long since he has been away from hell for the mere chaos to fluster him.
Without a word said further to his friends, he pulls you away. You bite your lower lip, nibbling and pulling at the dead skin. Chan quickly takes your hand in his, eyes fixing on yours and staying in silence for a short while till he finally asks, "Are you okay?"
"Can I be honest?"
"Yes, please."
"Are all your friends this hot and a solid mess?"
"Should I be offended?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he sees you joke nervously.
"No, no." You hit his arms, jokingly. You draw circles onto his arm and bring the topic forward finally. "I know I might have looked like I was taken aback — I was — but remember how we had this talk once about bringing people into our sex lives," you gulp, "I think this is a great moment to see if we'd like it in our relationship."
"Are you sure?" Chan's hand frames your face and you lean into it.
"One hundred percent."
"These are demons, baby," he hesitates.
"And you're a demon too. Stop stating the obvious, Chan. Plus, I have you."
"Are the two of you done?" Jisung asks loudly. You hold Chan's wrist and drag him towards his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the sudden beam of confidence that radiates from you.
"We are. I'm Y/N," you finally introduce yourself. "Sorry for being awkward in the beginning—"
"Oh, don't be," Changbin mumbles, gaze still wary of you. "Jisung tends to have that effect on people."
"Hey!"
"Anyhow," Changbin finally smiles tonight. "Thanks to someone," He glares at Jisung, "We lost both our dinner and our car. So do you mind if we travel with you?"
"Oh, no," you clasp your hands together. "We'll give you a ride back to our place. Chan could cook us something," you smile at your boyfriend and he merely shrugs.
"And we can let the night roll into whatever it is, right?" Jisung's gaze is different, almost like he's insinuating a thousand different sex positions in one look.
"Yes," you say after a long pause and an audible gulp. "We can let the night roll into whatever setting it turns to."
"Lead the way, princess," Jisung's arms move in abduction and you smile, skin wrinkling by your eyes at his chirpy self. You walk forward to the car and Chan slows down his strides to walk with the boys.
His arms wrap around the shoulders of both the demons and he pulls them closer to sharply whisper. "You fucking hurt her and I'll have both your arses burning in the hottest flames in hell. I swear to Lucifer."
"What if she likes it?" Changbin raises an eyebrow, almost provoking Chan and your boyfriend glares back at him equally, gritting his teeth and almost growling.
With clenched teeth, he restates, "Keep it tame," and lets go of them.
Chan should know better. Nothing is tame for the men in hell.
Changbin calls shotgun, putting you next to Jisung in the back seat while Chan drives the car.
"This is consensual, right?" Jisung asks again. There is concern lacing his face and Changbin sighs, mumbling, "She has said she wants us more than ten times, Sungie."
"Chan, you're alright with me fucking your girlfriend in the back while you drive?"
Chan's breath hitches, coughs entailing and you smile at how lost he looks for a minute as he turns back in worry, slowing the car down. "In the back or in the back of the car?"
"You never know. Maybe she might like it."
"Don't you dare!"
"Fine," he begrudgingly agrees.
"As long as she's okay with it. Do not make her uncomfortable at all, guys," Chan sighs and turns back, pressing on the gas and almost taking all his thoughts out on it. You blush, cheeks staining a shade lighter and heat rising up as soon as you feel Jisung edge closer to you. In the front seats, Changbin talks to Chan, catching up on every single thing they have missed out in these years.
In the back seat, however, Jisung has different plans. A whole different plan to break you down into putty in his hands.
"So, it seems like you are the girl that Chan wouldn't stop talking about and fawning over," Jisung's voice is huskier in the low tone he chooses to speak in to keep the conversation just between the two of you. "Nice to meet you, lovely. I'm Jisung. Now that I see you, I realise what all the fuss is about. You really are breathtaking."
You giggle, "You flatter me. Do all demons sweet talk this well?"
"Only the finest," Jisung winks. His hand wraps around your forearm and he slowly asks again, "It is alright for me to fuck you, right?"
The crudeness of the word in front of not just you but also two other demons leaves you flustered. Jisung pushes your hair strands that have gotten loose and fall to cover your eyes, behind your ears.
"Yes, it is," you repeat for what you have counted in your head as the eleventh time. "It's totally alright, Jisung."
"Then, can I come closer?" You nod and Jisung edges forward, closer than he already is. "You know how us demons work, right?"
"Uh," you look down at your hands on your skirt. "You get wild every now and then." Jisung hums in approval, cupping your face with his left hand.
"Bingo, you're right!" Jisung grips your face a little stronger than a second before. "We, demons, love to go wild." He scoffs and continues, "Your boyfriend loves to play nice and pretend like he doesn't lose control and has only virtuous thoughts. All a big fucking facade to hide the fact that he just wants to bend you over and fuck you—" Jisung kisses your neck right underneath your face. "—Again and," he kisses your jugular. "Again and again."
"I however am not. I like to do a lot of things to you."
Jisung bites sharply into your neck, sucking at the skin. The lewd noises resonate in the locked car and you know your boyfriend can hear each moan and each sound that comes from the back seat. The car moves only faster and Jisung's action matches the pace. He lets go of your neck only to crash his lips against yours, sucking in your lower lip as he kisses your hard. His arms snake around your frame and push you against him.
You moan against his lips. It's volatile, you realise. Jisung's kisses are volatile. One minute they are harsh against your lips, strong enough to bruise them with cuts, and the very next minute, there is nothing softer than his lips or the goosebumps that trail your skin that he touched after untucking your shirt.
His skin is hot against yours, hot enough to raise goosebumps again on your skin. His lips are warmth personified and his grip makes you want to go unhinged
He pulls back, lips parting and looking sinfully delectable. "It's in moments like these, princess, I realise how different our body temperatures are. How much warmer demons always are compared to humans. It must feel nice to have warm hands over you, doesn't it?" Jisung removes his hand from your bare skin and from underneath your white shirt. You gasp at the lack of contact, your skin feeling irritably cold all over again, and move closer into him.
"What a needy human," Jisung chuckles, and in the very blink of your eyes, he unbuttons your first two ones, exposing your black bra, laced to perfection, to him. "That's a pretty one. You really did go all out for Chan, did you not, princess?"
"I did. I wanted him to fuck me stupid and make me his tonight," you agree boldly and the car jolts to a stop suddenly. You are pushed forward into Jisung's warmth, your half-naked self pressed against Jisung's nice shirt. Changbin chuckles, looking at Chan and you turn to the side to see the traffic. You whisper again, "I still want him to fuck me stupid tonight."
"Oh, you are going to be all of ours tonight. We are going to make you such a slut for demon cock, princess. Make you greedy and desperate for it."
You are in the public. You are on the road, visible for any child or adult to look into your car only to see all the lustful deeds out in the open. You should have felt embarrassed, quivering in nothing but shame. However, all these triggers are for you to get wetter, panties sticking to your core and your grip to tighten on Jisung's arms.
Jisung's hand moves back to unhook your bra. He lets it fall off your shoulders slightly before taking your left breast in his arms and bringing his face closer to it. He sucks on your left nipple, nipping on the areola around. His hand massages the right breast over the black lace bra and your head lolls forward. Your hand tightens around his shoulder and you desperately crave some friction in your nether regions.
"Can I sit on your thigh, please?" You beg and Jisung's mouth leaves your nipple only to look up at you.
"Only if you call me sir."
Jisung has an immaculate grip on your waist as he lifts you slightly, holding you mid-air and not letting you settle down on his thigh until you call him by what he desires to be called.
"Please let me sit on your thigh, sir."
"You're a good girl," and Jisung drops you down on his thigh. You blush at how Jisung calls you a good girl. You like being called names. Be it a good girl or a slut, the words coming out from them right during sex made you feel unique and special. Your skirt rides up and your wet panties are pressed flat against his nice formal pants. He kisses your lips again, this time biting into your lower lip and drawing a bit of the blood. The copper taste does nothing for the demon exactly, besides indulging him in a slight high he could almost get off on. You seethe against him and your hips grind down on his thigh almost unknowingly. Your lips part behind your panties, the two materials underneath and his flexed thigh providing you enough to ease the lust and thirst of wanting to feel more.
"Does this feel good?" You moan in response and Jisung's eyes sparkle. "Ah, look at the expressions you are making." His hands grip tightly on your hips as he resolves to go back to your breasts and suck on them till the nipples harden for him and the areola swells up. His hands help your hips to move against his thigh quickly, soaking his navy blue pants darker. Your covered clit rubs over and over against his flexed thighs and the moans that leave your lips are loud and unhinged.
"Sir, ah, ah—" Your hands drop to hover your palm over his covered cock that rubs against your outer thigh. "I want more, sir. Fuck, fuck, I want more. Please, sir." And just as you begged, Jisung bites slightly into your breast just when he lets go of your hips and plunges two fingers into your wet lips, pushing the panties and skirt aside slightly. With your pussy filled with his fingers, Jisung continues to suck on your breasts and little kisses and hickeys all over them.
Your moan is the loudest so far this night in that minute. His fingers are long and bony and they hit your walls and push against them exactly the way you like. Your pain and pleasure senses, both activated, seemed to be mixing signals leaving you with a slow, slow path to euphoria. "You like that, princess? Tell me."
"Your fingers feel so good, sir." You move against his thighs quickly, grinding on it rough as your pussy is stuffed with his fingers. "Sir, sir— Fuck, sir. There." Jisung curves his fingers, the joints by his finger rubbing against your spot, deep inside that has your thighs shivering and your whole body aching for more. He rubs against the spot till you gasp over and over again and he's laughing like the very devil he is.
"Oh my god, you're so wet for me, princess. You are dripping." Jisung quickly stills you on his thighs, his other hand digging into your hips. "I'm going to go a little—" He pulls out slightly before thrusting his fingers back in.
"Sir, oh my god," your voice pitches higher and Jisung takes the positive signs well. He pushes his fingers back in after pulling them out. His forefinger moves away from the middle all while they are deep inside of you, stretching your walls apart and the sensation rules you up further as you move down, pulling him deeper and making you feel fuller than a second before. His fingers scissors inside of you, enhancing the sensations against your soft wet walls
"You're so needy, princess. You like that, huh? Does it feel nice to have my fingers wide apart inside of you? Do you like it when I curl them up?" And Jisung curls them, eliciting a loud groan from you and your head dropping into his shoulder as you can feel yourself edge closer.
He thrusts them faster. The lewd noises from your arousal gushing out and being pushed back in thanks to his fingers is intensified in the small space and your moans are like spice. Jisung sucks on your neck as his fingers hit your spot over and over again till the knot tightens so much that tears well up in your eyes and you pray he pushes you over the boundary.
"You like my fingers thrusting fast, princess?" You nod and Jisung orders, "Words, princess."
"Yes, sir. I love it. I love it. I love— Ah! Ungh—"
His thumb brushes finally against your clit and you bite into his shoulder. "Such a good princess. You deserve to cum, don't you? You were such a good girl." Jisung's thumb presses into your clit. His thrusts stills for a short second and your impatient self slides yourself up to fuck his fingers. The obscene sounds get louder with every second as you move closer to your orgasm.
"I think I should introduce another finger. Princess got my two fingers sopping wet." Jisung's third finger now plunges into you, pushing you apart even further and your breath hitches. He thrusts at a great speed, "We'll be faster, a little bit faster. That will be alright, right?" You know you are close, just a little bit of clitoral stimulation and Jisung's three bony fingers thrusting up into you, hitting the spots—
The electric motor revs and the garage door opens. Chan slowly moves the car into the garage, darkness seeping into the car. Jisung thrusts sloppily, once and then twice before pulling them away from your core, leaving your walls to clench on nothing desperately. You cry, "No, no, no, no—"
His voice is husky as he says, "Looks like we are here, princess. We are home." Slowly, without breaking contact with your eyes, Jisung sucks on his forefinger and then the middle finger and then the third slowly, tongue wrapping across it, dancing almost like a whole orchestra was playing in the background.
Chan rushes to open your door. He sees your haphazard hair, unbuttoned shirt and exposed breasts and he groans. You are insatiable just as he has always known. Your eyes are lost and mind far away at dreams of achieving orgasm. Chan buttons up your shirt and helps you get out of the car. His hold on your frame is tight and he kisses the side of your forehead.
"Chan's making pasta," Changbin announces and walls towards you, raising an eyebrow at your sight.
"We already have a whole meal here." Jisung licks your arousal from his lower lips. Chan rolls his eyes, before calling out loudly, "Jisung!"
"Yes?"
"You're helping me with dinner."
"But why me? I want to fuck Y/N," he whines. "All I did was tease her in the back of the car."
Chan leans into you and whispers, "Feel free to hit him when you want to. You'll have me to reason out and save you from anything." You laugh lightly, head slowly focusing on your boyfriend. He shifts his attention back to Jisung, "Because I said so and it's the least of hospitality you must show."
Jisung groans, before reluctantly agreeing, "I have a huge appetite, so heads up." You stare at Jisung, head with thoughts far in the past than in the present.
Fuck appetite. Fuck Han Jisung. Figuratively, and if fortunate, quite literally. You have a ruined orgasm for the first time that night and all you have an appetite for is one — to be humble — mind-blowing orgasm to take you to the end of the world and back.
Your boyfriend is a gentleman.
In the years you have known Chan, you know for sure that heaven and hell is nothing but a lie. Ironically. The stigmatization of having to be only bad or only good is so skin deep in humans that the very thought of a devil being nice seems like an illusion. That is, if the whole concept of heaven and hell is not an illusion already.
Chan is nice. He is nice to you and that is all that matters to you. He treats you like a princess because you are his princess — the only person worth staying on earth for.
So when he lets the guys go ahead and pulls you behind a wall right before the huge living room of his apartment is in view, you know he has something to say. That, or he has a kiss to steal.
"Are you okay?"
Chan's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes softening in worry as his hands lift up to cup your face, thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. You break a smile, leaning forward to brush the tip of your nose against his and you place a delicate peck on the same spot.
"More than ever. I told you, baby, right? That I'll tap out the minute this gets too much for me."
"I'm just so worried. You've never—"
"Are you guys making out?" You hear Jisung's voice resonate against the walls and you turn your head, stifling the laughter that bubbles inside of you. Jisung yells again, "Chan, pasta!"
"I'm coming," he yells back, dropping his hand from your face. "I'm coming. Oh, if only Lucifer burnt you alive!"
"I'd have to be alive for that, ha!"
"Go," you chuckle, kissing his lips only to pull back in a short second. "I'll hang out with Changbin."
"He's. . ." Chan sighs. "Just remember to be comfortable, baby, okay?"
"I know. I trust them. Beyond everything, I trust you."
You hold Chan's hand in yours and pull him away from the shadows of the wall, bring him before his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the two of you, before taking a step forward as Chan follows Jisung to the kitchen.
"That leaves us together alone for a while," Changbin suggests, arms folded over each other as he takes quicker steps towards you. He doesn't tower over you much but his entire persona that he broods is enough to make you whimper, lips to part unknowingly and eyes to widen in want. "I should probably introduce myself properly. I'm Changbin. I've known your boyfriend since forever. We became demons around the same time."
"Oh," you respond, mouth patching up with the excessive want.
"I'd like to get to know you, sweetheart?" Changbin is close enough for you to feel the warmth that exudes from his body. His arms drop for a small second before his right one lifts up. His thumb and forefinger grips on your chin to angle it up slightly for you to look at him properly. The name he calls you by makes you gasp under your breath, loving the endearment and he notices. Changbin notices how much the term has its effect on you in this minute.
"Do you like being called a sweetheart, princess? An angel, maybe? Do you like dressing up in pretty pink lingerie for Chan? Maybe you want to be a baby doll on top of me for the night?" Changbin lets go of your chin before taking a step back and walking towards Chan's sofa. He sits down on it, thighs spread apart as his arm rests on the side. His attention drifts back to you, lips quirking up in brief excitement. "Or despite dating one of the most sinful creatures ever to exist, you like being called a good girl?"
Your thighs clench together and you grip at the end of your skirt. Changbin laughs at the reaction he draws out from you. He taps on his thighs and beckons for you, "Why don't you come be a good girl on my lap, hm?"
You take shy steps towards him, before sitting on his thighs that he now has pressed together. Either of your legs dangle on the sides of his body and Changbin holds your hips as he pulls you closer. Your skirt crumpled up, exposing so much more to him and Changbin is in delight at how pretty you look on top of him.
"May I?" And you nod, mumbling a soft yes. His hand slowly trails above, starting from the point right above your knee joint. It's slow and sensuous for a soft second as his fingers slowly climb up your thigh before the tables turn over and Changbin's hand rips the panties from underneath your skirt and throws it to the side. Your eyes widen, cheeks heating up as you hold onto his shoulder at the sudden force.
"We won't be needing that for the night now, do we?"
You bite your lip and Changbin's hand hovers over your sodden lips from the previous encounter with Jisung. He rubs his palm over it as he locks his gaze with yours and asks, "Respond, princess. I need to hear you respond."
"No, we won't need that."
"That's my good girl," Changbin praises you and presses the heel of his palm into your clitoral region and you moan explicitly and unhinged. He rubs it slightly and your burning core oozes more of your arousal out into his hand, burning for that long forgotten orgasm you had hoped for. Using his other hand, he rips open your blouse, the top button letting free from the dress at all the harsh happenings it has been through for the night.
"Oh dear, look at that," Changbin clicks his tongue repeatedly before plunging his fingers into your core and pulling your bra down with his teeth at the same time, grazing slightly at your breast that it leaves you thrusting yourself on his fingers that drive hard into you.
You whimper, "Changbin, fuck," and he lets out an amused sound. He thrusts his two fingers in and out of you as he lips wrap around your nipple, lapping at it. He lets go momentarily, hot breath fanning all over your mound and he asks,
"Do you like this or maybe is it some pain that you like?"
And within a second, Changbin's teeth bite into the flesh by your mound. His unoccupied hand cups your mound, massaging it before flicking your nipple. Harshly. You gasp, head dropping forward as you lean into Changbin's chest, whimpering repeatedly.
"Baby girl likes that, doesn't she?" He flicks it again, pain shooting up your nerves and you slightly bite into his neck. He speaks into your skin. "She likes it a lot."
Changbin says he likes art. He talks about how he loves the purple colours that blend into the pink and then, the colours of your skin. He sucks on your bosom, littering the area around your areola with pretty, pretty marks all while his fingers are plunged deep inside of you, pads of the same rubbing your walls while his palm rubs the collected arousal into your core, pressing into your clit and stimulating it
Your senses are alert and every breath, every moan that is present in the air is hyperbolised in your ears. You can feel Changbin's rough fingers slowly pull out while his mouth trails down to wrap his lips around your areola, tongue wrapping around your nipple and he laps at it like a starved animal.
"Chan's too nice to you, too gentle, too kind to you. Treats you like some porcelain doll. I don't blame him for that," Changbin taunts you. He pulls his fingers out from your dripping core and his mouth leaves your breasts. Your walls contract at the sudden absence of his fingers and you grind down onto his thighs, expecting — begging more.
Changbin flicks at your stimulated clitoris. It sends a rush of both pain and pleasure intermingled up your spine, hitting your brain cells, leaving you lost and in a trance. He continues the mockery, "I usually don't fuck with humans. In fact, I even condoned Chan for doing that. No offense to you, baby girl, but humans are delicate, too fragile, for my taste. No matter how sex crazed or ravenous you are, you are still no match for a demon by comparison."
Changbin kisses up your neck, marking you up as he draws out his mockery. You think it is weird that this time round Changbin doesn't intimidate or anger you. Rather every word he says sends a trail of arousal shooting downwards, making you wetter with every passing second — making you anticipate for so much more. It is embarrassing at how wet you are from every single teasing you have been put throygh for the night.
"You may think Chan is different but he isn't, baby girl. He's just as demonic as we are, just as fucked up as every creature from hell is. He might hold back for you, but when you push his buttons well enough, you know he'll unleash it all. Even Jisung. The only difference between them and yours truly is that—" Changbin pauses. His lips quirk up and his hand unbuckles his belt, metal clinging as it comes undone. He unzips the pant and shoves it down as he lifts himself up with you with such ease that your fragile, weak and overstimulated self is in surprise. He pulls his dick out from his formal pants and it is hot, hard and everything you crave at this point.
You think it's unfair for a man with this big an ego to have this thick a cock and you were this close to blaming God for being unfair when you realise this isn't his territory. And history has proven that Lucifer has always been kind to his followers.
Changbin strokes his cock, thumb rubbing at the slit at the hot head. You salivate, almost ready to drip from the corner of your mouth when Changbin cuts your thoughts — filthy thoughts, too dirty to be spoken of; filthy, filthy thoughts on how heavy his cock would be on your mouth, on how wide his cock would stretch your mouth and how deep he'd go, perhaps all the way to your throat — and holds your thighs, pulling you closer into him to position you in such a way that his cock is straddled right between the flesh of both your thighs.
"The only difference between me and the other two, baby girl, is that," Changbin's voice drops an octave lower as he almost growls, "I don't make a habit of suppressing it at all. I can grab you by the throat just like this—" The demon holds you by your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck hovering right across your jugular and carotid, pressing them slightly. It is scary how you are here trusting a demon fully aware that an inch deeper and you would be accompanying him in your journey to the other world. Or mayhaps it's your trust in your boyfriend. Changbin's fingers are wrapped deliciously around your neck and your pussy leaks juices, coating his dick that is pressed against it. "—and thrust my dick so deep into you and fuck you so hard that your body, mind and soul is broken beyond repair."
Your mouth opens wide, tongue resting against your lower lip and Changbin spits into your mouth, ordering you instantly, "Swallow," and when you do, he lets go of your neck for a second, caressing the roughened area and mumbling, "You're a good, good girl for me, aren't you, baby girl?"
You nod, voice hoarse as you beg like a kitten in her worst heat, "Please, please, please—"
"Please what, baby girl? Use your words like the good girl you are."
"Fuck me, Binnie. Fuck me, fuck me. Need your dick in me. I'll be a good girl."
Changbin laughs loudly, almost as if he is mocking you. He is, because his fingers wrap around your neck once again as he thrusts his cock upwards. It slides against your wet lips, striking against your clit. "How could I fuck you when your thighs are this inviting? Look at how wet they are because of your arousal. You are leaking, baby. What a good whore."
"Binnie," you gasp, barely phrasing with his hold on your neck as he thrusts back upward. He holds your close as you equally grind on him. "Binnie, I want more. I want more."
"Be a good girl and I'll reward you, baby girl. Be a good girl and let me fuck your thighs." You nod and grind down. "How does it feel like, baby girl, to have my hard cock rubbing against you? Squeeze your legs tightly around me—" You wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back. "Fuck, just like that."
The squelching sounds are loud and prominent. The friction of his cock rubbing against your wet skin is amplified in the silence. Your hips move slightly trying to get as much as contact possible on your clit. Your head is empty, voices hindered and you can only think of how badly you want to get fucked, how badly you want Changbin to treat you more roughly.
Changbin is vocal. Very, very vocal. He whimpers at every rub, moans loudly and grunts as you grind down on him. The filthy words that leave his mouth does not stop — "Your skin feels so warm and cool against my cock. Oh fuck, can you feel your clit throbbing against my dick, baby girl? You naughty little fucking thing."
His pace quickens as he thrusts further, grunting, "You are fucking delicious, baby girl. Chan's been keeping a whole asset away from us."
"Binnie, Binnie—" you moan, breasts rising and falling with every occasional jumping you do on his thighs to match the pace of his thrusts. "Choke me harder, please."
"What?"
"I want you to choke me harder."
"Fuck," and Changbin listens clearly. His fingers dig a little deeper and you are gasping, arousal dripping even more and staining his navy blue formal pants after coating his cock further. "Fucking grind on my cock. Baby girl, you are making me rethink my policy on humans."
"Ungh," you whimper when his cock stills and grinds onto your clit, focusing only on that. Changbin chuckles. His voice is laced with tease, "Easy there, baby girl. If my cock were to accidentally slip into your pussy, who knows what I might do."
"Please, please—" You barely speak out when Changbin's grip on your neck loosens for a bit.
"Did I fuck the words out of you, baby? Did I fuck you stupid? I haven't even fucked you with my dick yet and look at you already. You would want that right, baby girl? For me to fuck you dumb, fuck you stupid. I'll have you ride my cock till all you know is how to be a good girl for me and how to take my big fat cock."
"Yes, yes, yes—"
Changbin stops right when your whimpering increases, pitch shooting up higher and your chest rises and falls as he halts. However, in one swift motion, he pins you on the sofa, him on top of you and he stares at you. You are a disoriented mess, hair spilling onto your face and everywhere, clothes open partially but enough to spill everything and your legs — thighs specifically — are glistening in the lights.
"It sucks that you are Chan's girl, sweetheart? Do you think he'd mind sharing more than once?"
Changbin does not wait for your response. With the support of his hands, he brings his body down, head in direct contact with your skirt stained with your arousal and the precum that oozed out from his cock. He sucks deep purple marks into your thighs, trailing them all the way to your glistening core. And then, his mouth is on your sodden lips.
It's a miracle at how you are able to keep your eyes open. All the teasing this night has made your body heavy and yet, like some starving woman on sex steroid, your pussy aches for more. His lips are on your wet ones as he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. It is merciless. The demon he is, is marvellous, hot and a sex god at that. His tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening.
The room is filled with lewd noises and your moans are loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. Changbin licks stripes after stripes on your lips, lapping up your arousal as he hums in delight. Another stripe up your wet lips and he soon wraps his plump pair around your clit and sucks on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly.
Changbin's sharp teeth graze over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. The vortex forms deep within you again, the sign of an impending orgasm and you can only pray that he doesn't leave you begging like Jisung did. It's coming. You are so close, again, for the second time this night and you needed it. You are sure that you would go crazy if you did not receive the release you had so prayed for. Changbin rubs your clit furiously, lips moving back to your cunt as he eats you out. Changbin's tongue flicks to perfection, hitting your sensitised bud over and over again till you snap and come undone all over his face, arousal squirting out and over his entire face.
Your legs quiver as Changbin laps it all up, tongue swiping across your lips till he has drunk every single drop of your arousal. Your eyes that were squeezed shut opens and you see the mess you have made on his face.
"Fuck, I'm sor—" You try to lift yourself up to help him when Changbin pulls you by your legs closer to him and wraps his lips on your clit, sucking on the bud till it borders overstimulation and you are screaming out in both pain and pleasure, your abdomen pitting at the sight of another orgasm with his actions.
"Binnie, fuck, oh fuck," Tears well up at the corner of your eyes on being overstimulated. You can feel your brain getting fuzzier, sense hyperbolic at everything around you. You are falling into something you are unfamiliar with. "I'm sensitive, fuck. I'm so sensitive."
He moves forward, overstimulating you and your eyes roll up at all your nerves being triggered to send the excess messages of stimulation to your brain, knots tightening and you are ready to combust once again until Jisung walks out of the kitchen, announcing, "Dinner's ready."
"Too bad I had my fill," Changbin sniggers, tongue extending out of his mouth to lick your arousal off the corners of his mouth. Your chest rises and falls and you try to focus in on something on the ceilings — ah, the spokes of the fan, yes. Three. Three. Three. Three. Changbin quickly notices the change in your demeanor, "Baby girl? You alright?"
"Princess?" Chan's rushing to your side as soon as he hears something is up with you. You giggle, laughing soon enough as you look up. Changbin stands up from your side, concern filling him when you start laughing. Jisung, on the other hand, walks to keep the pasta on the table behind the sofa. "Princess, are you there with me?"
It is the rush of endorphins that cloud your brain. Your heart beats fast, breathing rapid and it's a different kind of high you are in. You hold onto Chan's sleeve, giggles nonstop as you mumble in between, "Chan, uh, Chan! Chan!"
"I've got you, princess," he says softly, before wrapping his arm around your thighs and the other over your torso before lifting you up. "I've got you. I'm right here." You cling onto his shirt, snuggling into him as he verbally assures you.
He stops midway in his path, turns to look at two of his friends, especially glaring at Changbin, before firmly saying, "Eat and leave. I'll talk to you later. I have to take care of her."
"We could hel—"
"Not today. Not now. I'll—" Chan sighs, holding you closer to him as you mumble words incoherently, smiling to yourself. His face softens, as if he's trying to comfort Changbin who looks guilty for the first time before Chan in eons of years together. "We'll talk to you later."
"Okay."
"And guys?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for tonight. I know she liked it. A bit too much, if anything."
Chan holds you close.
So close to him that even the rush of endorphins in your brain isn't loud enough to hear how loud your own heart beats next to his faint beating one.
His arms wrap around your frame, hand holding your head close into his chest as he soothingly rubs the back of it and at every short interval, he coos into your head, "I'm right here, baby." Your body shifts to a relaxed position from the very tensile state it was in that second thanks to his voice, at his words and at his very being.
"Relax, baby. This is going to pass. You did so well, so, so well."
And you giggle into his chest, eyes closing warmly for a fraction there before looking up at him. Chan believes if synesthesia was a thing for demons, he would see the colours behind your eyes. How the crimson red slowly — so, so slowly — turned to darkest shades of pink and then the softest ones and Chan knows. He knows for sure that this is it. This is his whole world.
Chan feels jealous of humankind for the first time.
He is envious about how it would not be him that grows old with you, has kids with you and gets to be physical with you at every point. He knows he can't do that with you forever. He cannot do this with you forever. And even if he did decide to fuck it and do it anyway, you'd leave him one day.
Chan knows he could never do much. He cannot change fate or turn himself into human for you. That is impossible. And yet he hopes — ah, a dangerous thing for a demon to have, something they mustn't possess — that every moment he spends with you is infinite and never dies.
Your body tightens up again, goes rigid in his hold and he worries for you. That is Chan's first mistake, or so he believed years back. He cares for you. He cares for you in ways a demon shouldn't. He cares for you enough to know that demons have feelings or at the very least, he does. He cares enough to call it love.
"It's alright," he mumbles and you mumble back, "We couldn't spend time together tonight."
"It's still eight. We have time," Chan smiles and rubs the hair off your face, only to press a soft chaste kiss on your forehead. "We have a lot of time. You should rest. You were such a good girl tonight."
"I was," you hold onto his shirt before letting your hands trail underneath and Chan realises the endorphins are slowly calming down, keeping you in a safer position than you were minutes back. "Wasn't I, daddy?"
"Princess, you really had a lot today, do you—"
"I want to. I—" You kiss Chan, hands cupping his face and lips pulling at his before letting your tongue twine with his. You moan unknowingly as your body rises to lean further into him. Your fingers graze the small stubble by the side of his jaws as you find yourself getting lost in him, in the feeling of his hot tongue lapping around yours.
"Mmh," Chan moans before holding your jaw tighter, leg wrapping around your frame. In a swift motion, he pins you down underneath him as he still kisses you. His lips are beyond tempting as you draw every kiss out, draw every moan out from him. He pulls back the minute you lift your hips to grind onto his crotch, feeling himself against your bare core. "We should stop—"
"No. You're my Valentine. Not Changbin or Jisung. You'll always be my Valentine," you respond, tugging him down into you by his shirt. Chan's eyes widen before softening as he looks at you — looks at you like you are everything better than him, hell and afterlife.
"But you really had it rough today and—"
"I want more. I want so much more rough and I want them from my boyfriend. No one else." Your hand grades the stubble again and Chan leans into your hold. "The fact that you've never been rough with me and that I had to hear about it from Changbin and Jisung did no good to my ego, baby."
"They were—" Chan pauses on his own this time. You don't interrupt or cut him. He knows he can't lie to you. He knows how much he holds back but Chan knows that he has no issue with that. It's a safer option for you and yet here you are tonight asking him to be himself, be everything he is and show you how far he can go — he was going to fucking lose it at that alone.
"You know they were not lying," your voice lower. "They are demons, you had said, and that I should be careful. But Chan, baby, you are a demon too. So why do you hold back? Is it because I'm a human?"
"Yes," Chan reluctantly agrees and you sigh. You drop your hand from his face and Chan's lips pucker in response. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You know you won't," you reassure him. "You could never hurt me unknowingly and even if you did, you know you'd take care of me till I'm back to the same."
"There shouldn't be a situation that leads to the worst case scenario, Y/N."
"But I want that. I want you to show me everything and I want to know if I'd like that. Give me a choice. I—" You gulp, scared of telling it out loud finally now that you have come to a partial conclusion to it yourself. "I liked Changbin being rough on me. I liked it a lot. I liked Jisung edging me. I liked it so much that all I could think about till Changbin touched me was of Jisung giving me an orgasm."
Chan's hand presses down by the sheets adjacent to your face and he holds it tightly. If care was an emotion he shouldn't have felt, jealousy is another that should never have a place in a demon's mind. Especially not when they were all brought up with the thought of sharing.
He hates how Changbin got to be rough with you before him. Something so petty and so, so territorial arises in him that he wasn't even aware for him to feel this. He knows he gave consent. He knows he was there to hear it all and yet hearing you say you liked it brought in exactly two emotions in him that conflicted each other so much that he knew he was going feral — a) delight, over you being so content and over you being so understanding of demonic natures and b) jealousy, over another demon having had you in ways only he had before.
"Chan?"
"Yes?"
"You were lost there for a minute."
"You promise me you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much, right?"
"Always," you peck at his lips. "I'll always do that. I just want everything you are and you have to offer. I don't want to know stuff from others. I want to feel them through you."
And Chan kisses you again. This time however, it is a lot different from the previous kiss you drew out from him. His lips find home in yours as they come upon you, imperatively. The kiss gets deeper each time, tongues chasing and lapping each other, earning continuous whines and whimpers coming out from both of you. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck, your fingers trailing up his nape to his hair, gripping the small hair at his back and Chan kisses you passionately, his hands cupping and tilting your face, angling it so that he could intensify the kiss as he desired.
He's desperate to show you everything he is.
The very second your mouth had brushed his, Chan knows that you are the one for him. It had always been you. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips and your warm breath wafting over his chin. It is exactly as he had carved in his mind, etched so deep that it could never fade away.
His hand is prominent on its grip on your neck, as you lift your chin higher — so you can press your lips harder into his — while your hands fist into his shirt — white, clean and perfect all for the night only for it to be discarded to the very corner of the bedroom the two of you share. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, arm pressed between the bed and you and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his.
Gasping at the motion, Chan seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. His tongue swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it. The metal ball at the tip of his tongue provides a sharp coldness and you hiss into his mouth, only for him to provide more contact with the metal that it leaves you emitting moans into him.
It is electrifying. Every single thing with Chan has been exciting, unpredictable and leaves you begging for more. It is perhaps mankind's adhesive nature towards sin itself that made you like this — that made you into such a moldable clay in his hands and you don't mind going to hell for this. Because every single moment you lived on earth, if it were with him, would be relentlessly passionate. You would never want to swap with anything, even if someone handed heaven to you on a platter.
Because Chan is your heaven.
When you feel his tongue flick against yours, slightly, grazing it, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. You find yourself lapping around the metal ball on his tongue, rolling your eyes shut.
With every passing second, you find yourself drowning into Chan. His body is pressed flat against yours, chest against yours, his saccharine taste coating your senses till that is all you can think about, and his warm breath all over your face. You find yourself drowning into him — you always have — his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.
Is this how people were dragged into hell? Tempting.
Chan pulls back and you smile at your boyfriend, like a little girl happy to have received her candy. You glance down at your shirt that is half open as a result of everything that happened tonight and proceed to unbutton the rest and remove it off your body. Chan's eyes linger more than ever on the marks that Changbin has left all over your body — marks that have turned dark purplish red and he seethes at the very sight of it in anger.
"If we do this again, on your request, of course," Chan kisses over all the marks slowly, taking his own time to lick it over with his tongue before pressing his lips against it. "I'm going to be physically present. Not going to let anyone mark my baby up like this. That's for me."
And Chan sucks over it. His hand goes behind your back to unhook your bra and toss it aside. His hand lands firm on your breast, fingers playing with your nipple as his mouth slowly moves down to kiss your other nipple before sucking on it, lewd sounds emitting from his mouth.
"Daddy, fuck—" Your back arches, hips jutting upwards into his pelvis only to feel his covered growing length rough against your sticky skin. Chan uses his free hand to hold onto your waist and lift you slightly, allowing you to hook your leg over his waist, tight enough to tease you.
Chan hums in approval as you grind up, exposed core moving and staining your favorite formal pants of his, all while his tongue laps at your areola. The metal ball right at the centre of the tip of his tongue is pressed to your nipple and the difference in temperature has your mind spiralling.
His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin only for the metal ball to soothe over the burn.
Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot by your jugular before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips, leaving them in the open for just you and him to hear to.
"Do you remember the safe word?"
You nod, "Red for you to stop, yellow for you to give me time and green for you to proceed."
"Perfect," and Chan moves so quickly to remove your skirt off your body as he hovers over your completely naked self, fully clothed. You have always wondered if Chan would ever be into power play, especially with how he could project himself sometimes. Like in moments like these. You make a note in your head to ask him about the very thing.
Chan kisses your lips, tugging at your lip before dipping himself further, getting lost in you. He rubs his tongue across your lower lip, metal ball harsh against your coral lips. He kisses your cheek and then, your pinna.
You feel his warm breath against your ear, shuddering in impact. You are about to ask him to stop teasing you — that you've had enough foreplay the whole night. However, in the next second, his hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs in a loud spank and you gasp, not expecting it. He hits the same skin almost a second after before the pain recedes and you are moaning out loud, brain wiring differently as heat pools between your legs.
“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His hand edges closer to you, dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs, all over again and over the dried ones by your thighs. "You’re so dripping wet,” Chan mutters, only to laugh and comment, "At least I can credit this to myself."
Chan leans forward, next to your ear again and mumbles, "Baby, I'll be using words that would come off as very demeaning but I need you to know that I would never use them unless we are in the mood. You are and will be my baby girl, my princess forever. Is that alright?"
"It is," you blush, heat shooting straight to the core and you can feel yourself leak further, embarrassingly, right when Chan's hand is so close to your lips.
"Fuck, you are dripping. Such a filthy whore," Chan taunts and you feel it, deep in your gut. You've never seen this side to Chan but fuck, you love it. You love it more than Changbin having called you a good girl. You want to be called a whore, a slut — as long as you were his whore, his slut.
Chan collects the arousal that you drip out, coating his fingers and palm. Moving his fingers, he collects your arousal that leaks from your gaping hole and watches the transparent stick to his fingers. The bulge in his pants is hard and seems too painful to be confined. You gulp evidently, throat parched. Chan's hand edges closer towards your lips and languidly strokes your slit with his fingers coating in your arousal. The pads of his finger circles your hole and you mewl, clutching slightly onto his shoulder.
"Daddy, please, need your fingers in me."
"You've been fucked by two demons already and you are still so horny," he scoffs. "Impressive." He raises an eyebrow. Almost like he is teasing you further, he continues to play with your cunt. You whimper, gasping and hoping to feel the burn of the stretch that would come with him thrusting his fingers up.
Each small action Chan does has you moving forward in pleasure, hoping for the same as you try to move with his hand, all in an attempt to drive his digit deeper into you. Nonetheless, Chan controls the pressure and the pace and no matter how hard you try to move, he never lets you have his way, clearly showing that it was him in power here, not you. Growing tired of his teasing, anticipation filling you to insanity, tears brimming your eyes, you whine, “Fucking hell, Ch— Daddy, come on."
Chan chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. You sigh, breath exhaled out desperately. "Please, please, pl— Ah!"
Chan hits your core with the pads of his finger, labia silently flapping in impact and you moan at the pain that shoots up from your sensitive core. This causes you to moan, body moving forwards in a surprised reaction. The palm hitting the clit sends electric sparks throughout your body, your brain almost fusing. The sound is sharp as it rings through the air before you feel pain along the vulva. Crying in pain, you mumble softly out before holding to him softly, “Please,” you implore. "I need you, daddy."
The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causes you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. Chan mumbles as he lowers his body silently, kissing your skin on his way. He kisses the skin right above your acetabulum, tracing his lips down till he kisses your core, a soft peck over it.
It is a stark difference in your clothing that takes you aback; of how you were completely naked while Chan was completely clothed and yet that excited you. The power he has is enough to have you ooze out more arousal that would prompt the sheets to stain further.
Chan licks at your core, once, twice and then he is sucking at your clit, like a man walking days in a desert with no water source. His mouth is against your core, licking on it, the cold wet metal ball pressing against it, before he sucks on your engorged button. The lewd noises that leave your mouth are pornographic and your legs have lost their strength.
You are about to say a word before Chan curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the feeling of his fingers in you. "D-Daddy!"
You feel Chan searching your walls for the spot he has felt enough that he finds it in a few minutes. He rubs against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs. The sheets are stained. His pants are stained and so is his white shirt.
"No demon I've fucked before would have sex this close to being out of the world. Fuck, princess. Your slutty pussy is clutching onto my fingers." He rubs your walls and your enlarged button. Your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately as you press into him.
Chan's fingers are fast as they thrust in and out of your core. You could find yourself getting wetter and wetter with the lewd sounds that resonate the walls. The demon presses his metal piercing flat against your clit and you gasp. "F-Fuck, Daddy!"
And as Chan sucks on your button of nerves, his fingers thrusts into you at a relentless pace, pushing right at the spot that has you feeling the endorphins spilling into your bloodstream. You feel the knot that tightens in your stomach, ready to fall over the cliff till Chan's teeth graze your clit and you lose it.
“Come for me, my princess,” Chan urges. His command, paired with the way his tongue dances across your clit and how his rough thick fingers drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion. You can feel your bloodstream soaking slowly with the rush of endorphins. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is, as Chan slowly rubs you through your high.
You think Chan is about to drag his fingers out of you and away when he picks up the speed of his fingers. He toys with your sensitive clit.
"Daddy, ah—" You feel the pain slightly of being overstimulated, slowly getting intense and intense. You are crying and he slows down, looking into your eyes, expecting a colour to be screamed and when you don't, smiling softly, he continues, kissing you and swallowing every cry you have.
You feel your skin standing at the very precipice of being sensitive to anything. In a split second without any warning, his mouth still on you, Chan holds your clit between his forefinger and thumb before twisting it and instantly, you feel something deep within you tighten up.
That was it. Your breath is disoriented. Your jaw falls loose and you let out a loud cry as a powerful orgasm cuts right through you. Chan drops his hand on to the bed as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your arousal soaks his shirt, fabric sticking to his body and he is amused. Your thighs shake, quivering uncontrollably as your back curves, body lifting up. Chan's other arm wraps around you as he kisses you through this. Your muscles tremble, ache and are sour. Eventually, you find your hips stopping gradually as you fall victim to the pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.
"That was so fucking hot," he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are closed, post that powerful orgasm, tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you are alright and are able to breath right.
"Daddy," you smile and Chan smiles brighter. That's his girl. That's his girl, alright.
"You've got my shirt messy, princess." He chuckles and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as your head drops to the side to look away. Chan holds your face with his messy hands and kisses you, drawing out another long kiss to rid you away from any other thoughts besides ones of fucking him tonight.
You pull away and mumble, "It's not fair that you were dressed completely in the first place."
"Is that so now?"
"Yes," you huff and your hand trails up Chan's arm, fingers digging into his arm. "It's a damn bother."
Chan unbuttons his shirt, taking his own time with it as his fingers roll against them before popping the material out of hold from the button. Your hand lies in wait by his waist, fingers rubbing against the curve of his ass and you stare up at him. With every button that he maneuvers his shirt out of, you can see his tattoos more and more clearly.
The feathers that poke out through the corner of his shoulder, flat on the coracoid process, more present superficially right above his clavicle, are detailed. You can see the feathers variant in their styles as they fall from a greater source that lies behind him.
Chan's tattoo had always been magnificent, as if they were rebuking the almighty as he acknowledged his very being. The ends of the black feathers also tease into the head of his biceps. Two beautiful wings, bold and powerful, arise from his spine and exhibit loudly on his back.
Your mouth gapes open at the sight of it as Chan bends forward to unbutton his pants, the wings clearly visible to you and your heart leaps at the sight of it. Chan raises an eyebrow at you, staring down at his tattoo, as soon as he pulls down his pants.
"Ah, the tattoo kink," he chuckles. "How could I forget."
"It's not a thing," you blush.
"Please," he laughs, eyes wrinkling soon. "There's no way you could lie to me, princess."
You blush. Crunching forward, you stretch your arms, fingers pointing to draw against the outline of the wings. "It's beautiful," you whisper. "It's so fucking beautiful, Chan." He chooses to ignore the call of his name because nothing else would sound sweeter in this moment than his name itself. What you would do to give everything in wrapping your lips around his flesh by the corners of the wings and to ruin it with your own marks.
He unsheathes himself off the confines of his undergarment. Chan has always been bigger in comparison to every single one you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. It shines under the dim lighting of your room, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly.
You let out a small mewl — the walls of your core throbs against his member at the sensations of the piercings rubbing against the same — enhancing both your senses. Chan notices how your thighs quiver and he raises his eyebrows in sheer amusement.
"You really don't fail to surprise me, princess," Chan sniggers. "Look at you eye fucking me all while I just unstrip."
"Please," your eyes glisten and Chan coos. "Please. Need your cock in me, daddy. Need your big fat cock to fill me up and stuff me stupid." Your hands move down to hold his engorged length in your hand, rubbing the metal balls on the head with your fingers and feeling the coldness in a sharp contrast to his hot girth.
"You've been such a good, good whore tonight. Daddy's going to reward you well. So well." His hand trails down your frame and you shudder as they move down your sides.
Chan moves slightly, his hands bracing on either side of yours. The strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. You push your body upwards and you stretch your arms up. You run your hands over his naked shoulders and his back, grazing his tattoo a little more before tangling your fingers into his hair as you tug him further over you.
A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. His cock brushes against your thighs slicken in your arousal and you moan. The metal ladder framing underneath his shaft is cold against your skin and you can feel the goosebumps that arise atop your skin all the way to spread the heat to your core.
Chan's arms wrap around your body, holding you so close to him that your chests brush against each other. You feel his hardened erection sharp against your thighs, brushing against your core and you whimper in his hold. "Please."
"Please what, princess?"
"Fuck me, daddy."
Chan's lips crash onto your swollen ones with a force that has to be reckoned. He grinds his heavy cock into your core, rubbing over your clit. It leaves you moaning, holding onto his deltoids with a ferocious grip, fingers digging into the muscle.
Holding onto the opportunity that presents itself to him, Chan seizes and dives his tongue right into your mouth. They glide across your tongue, your body arching in pleasure. You feel the metallic ball of his piercing run over your tongue in a wistful want, you wrap your own around it before kissing him at the same intensity. Chan's groan hits back through the air in barely a whisper as you swallow most of the sound. Immediately, you let go of his lips and your hand reaches out for his cock slowly coated in precum, you squeeze it softly.
Before you can think straight, you can sense Chan holding his cock in his hand to position himself and with a mere grunt, he enters through your twitching core. His thick girth pushes your walls apart as they move further down into you. Your grip on his deltoid slips to his biceps, desperate to catch hold of something. All that leaves your mouth are parched breaths and desperate moans.
The lewd noises from his dick seeping through your wetness to enter you and stretch you out resonates through the wall only to hit back to both of your ears. Chan's gaze shifts downwards to watch his cock spread open your lips and disappear into your being — all it does to the demon is excite him more.
You feel the piercings against your wall, dragging across your softness. The slight dentations cause you to moan as Chan moves it against it over and over again, ensuring to hit your spot as much as possible with every thrust.
"You're dripping all over my cock, fuck," he grunts as he slips out only to thrust back in carefully. You grind back this time round, trying to match his pace with your fragile body. It takes you aback when you feel Chan grow into his complete girth inside you, stretching you out with an intense burn.
"Daddy," you choke out, words caught in the back of your throat. "Too big, ah."
“No, it’s not, princess," he bites his lip. "We both know you can take it. You're doing so well,” Chan coos. You find him slowing down with every thrust, making sure you are alright. His fingers ghosts right adjacent to your side, caressing your breasts with affectionate touches.
Slowly, the pain fades away, only to be replaced by a rush of pleasure with every thrust. The hard metal of his piercings drag against the sensitive nerves of your wet core, enough to stimulate every other nerve in your body, rubbing it over and over again.
Chan notices your face calming and how you were truly living in the moment. He takes this as a sign enough to thrust quicker, metal piercings striking the spot furiously. The sudden intrusion has your lips parting, eyes rolling back and tongue falling out in ecstasy. Your thighs, that quake, spread apart to take more of him, to let him have more control over you. Your walls clamp down on him, holding his cock tightly and magnifying the thick length of his. The moment his length pokes at the end of your cervix, you jerk, throat drying up instantly as a reaction. He was so thick and so full that he reached all the way to your cervix, ready to show you what it truly is like being fucked by a demon.
Chan grunts as he presses his hand down on your belly after pressing a short kiss. There is a slight bulge and Chan loves how you are, almost as if you are made for him. This leads your wall to press around him. His length pulses against your walls and you feel him completely, in his length and girth. Your walls ripple around his length accepting him completely — in his large, engorged, thick length.
"Fuck, I love this. Hell, I love how your juices coat my length and your lips kiss around my cock. Perfectly fitting my cock as if you were made for me,” he mutters. "Aren't you? You're mine. All mine."
“So pretty, princess,” he coos. With every thrust of his length into you, your body is jolted back and forth, rocking the bed loudly, at an impeccable strength along with your boyfriend's.
In between all the thrusts of his cock, the way his piercings mercilessly drags inside you, triggering every single nerve bundle ever to exist in your body, you feel the clouds of euphoria come at your being. You slowly find yourself losing your being into the sheer bliss of Chan's actions.
With one more rough thrust, you are unable to hold back and with a loud cry, you come undone around Chan's cock. Feeling your walls clamp vigorously around his length, he lets out a deep growl and continues to thrust his hips into you. It is these thrusts that draw out your orgasm, bringing forth waves of bliss and euphoria, slowly seeming to shut down all your senses. The results of your intense orgasm still fluctuate through you. Your thighs tremble and toes curl. Your walls wrap so tightly around his cock that it drives him close.
His cock pulsates in your warmth and you know it too. "Oh fuck! That’s it, princess,” Chan groans out. He thrusts back into you messily, trying to keep up with the same initial pace. However, he falls out of the same relentless thrusting in the pursuit of his own orgasm. Burying his cock as deep into you, he erupts inside of you. He plays with your clit and comes undone in your core as he swears under breath, unfiltered compliments showered upon you.
His thick cum fills you up. Buried deep, he empties everything of his load, coating your walls with thick stripes of his residue. Slowly, you find yourself back to your senses, body more alive, having ridden yourself of the giddiness of your orgasm. Your body shudders under him in your haze of orgasm.
Chan pulls out his softened cock out from you, glistening under the coated mixture of yours and his orgasm. He holds you close and rubs the side of your face gently as he compliments you, "You did so well, princess. I'm proud of you."
You kiss his lips in response, a soft, chaste one. Chan continues showering you with compliments as he falls by your side, holding you close into his sweaty naked being. He lifts himself soon enough to attend to you when you pull him down, locking him with your grip on his wrist.
"Let me take care of you, baby."
"Five minutes more, please." You look at him with a puppy like expression and Chan sighs, knowing fully well that there would be no way that he could deny your request.
"Fine, princess," he rubs your hair away from your forehead and pulls you impossibly closer into his chest.
"Chan?"
"Hm?"
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
Chan chuckles, kissing the top of your head and then your forehead as he teases, "You worked too much for a Valentine's Day, baby."
"Please," you stretch the syllable and speak into Chan's chest. "If anything, it is the wildest one I've ever lived to attend."
And as Chan holds you through the night, attending and taking care of you, his phone beeps soon enough,
[1] Voicemail from Changbin Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful and to you too, Chan. Call me back when you hear this. Bye.
[1] Message from Jisung This is how technology works??!!!! Oh my God. Fancy. Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day. This goes down in my history as best Valentine's Day ever, bitches. P.S. Best sex ever too. Let's have a foursome sometime soon.
#straykidsland#stray kids smut#skz smut#chan smut#jisung smut#changbin smut#han smut#bang chan smut#kpop smut#3racha smut#chan x reader#jisung x reader#changbin x reader#writings.rue#skz imagines#skz scenarios#this is unedited and is just smut plis#so heads up for errors
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Ferris Wheel
Pairing: N x Reader
Game/Anime: Pokémon Black/White, Pokémon Black/White 2
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Synopsis: Every Friday, you ride the Ferris wheel with N. A few months go by, and you realize that you have caught feelings. What can you do, though, when every Ferris wheel ride ends up with him talking about someone he can’t seem to forget.
Warning(s): None
Note: This story was originally uploaded on my Quotev @HeyLookItsYC. The following story is kind of long (approx. 2000 words), so just a heads up ^^
Story is down below!
~
Note: This takes place after the events that occur in the game Pokémon Black/White 2, so there might be some spoilers. The reader takes on the role of the protagonist/player in the game, and they are at least eighteen years old. Thank you, and please enjoy!
~
There he was again, standing right outside of the Ferris wheel entrance. He looked restlessly back and forth, as if looking for you. You would think that after many weeks of meeting with one another that he would learn to be more calm about your arrival.
You always chose late evening to ride the Ferris wheel with him. It was days like these that you looked forward to the most. Ever since you had become champion, you now spent most of your days exploring the region and catching new Pokémon to update your Pokédex, along with the occasional Pokémon battle.
“Ah, (Y/N)!” N greeted as you approached him. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.”
“Since when have I ever let you down?” you asked. “Seeing you is one of the best highlights of my week, honestly.”
He smiled at your words, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly at the sight of it.
I’m hopeless…
You cleared your throat, realizing that you were now staring. You quickly averted your gaze to the Ferris wheel entrance.
“We should probably get going,” you said, ignoring the warmth on your cheeks as you did your best to avoid eye contact.
“Yes, of course! Let’s go…”
He made his way onto the ride, you following closely behind.
~
The view never failed to amaze you. You felt yourself relax as the passenger car continued to ascend higher, giving you a good look over the Unova region.
“You know, you truly do remind me of that trainer...”
You tensed at N’s words. He was doing it again, going on about that friend he had met about two years ago. You had heard all about them from Cheren and Bianca, and the numerous meet-ups with N had given him the chance to share the same story repeatedly.
You didn’t even know the person, though you were constantly reminded by others that you had similarities to them. Usually you didn’t mind this, but when it came to N…
He stared out of the Ferris wheel with a distant look in his eyes. “We both rode this Ferris wheel…”
His words faded in your ears as you became lost in thought. It was the same thing every time; you both would board the ride, and he would begin his story about the trainer that he met in the past and how he wished to meet them again.
You glanced over to your side, feeling your heart squeeze painfully at the sight of N’s expression. A small smile on his lips as he spoke, his eyes were soft as he reminisced about the trainer from his past. As usual, he spoke quickly, but you were too lost in your own mind to even hear what he was saying.
He sensed your gaze, which caused him to stop speaking. With a slight tilt of his head, he gave you a look of what seemed to be concern. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”
At the sound of your name, you snapped out of your thoughts. “H-huh?” You shook your head, regaining your focus once more. “A-ah, yeah! I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” you said, and you gave him a slight nudge with your elbow. “You worry too much, N. Just continue on with what you were saying.”
You were unable to hear what he was saying for the rest of the ride, however, for you were too focused on the dull pain that you felt in your chest.
~
N would always be the first to leave once the ride was over.
“I really do love Ferris wheels,” he said, and he gave the ride one final look before turning away. “I’ll see you next week, (Y/N)-”
Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed onto his wrist. “Wait.”
He paused, turning back to look at you. You were staring at the ground, your visor blocking him from seeing your expression.
You couldn’t trust yourself to look at him.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore, N,” you said quietly, your grip on his wrist tightening.
His eyes widened at your words. This was unexpected.
“What do you mean?” he asked, sounding a bit hurt.
“I mean… I don’t think I can continue seeing you anymore,” you said. “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now. I think it’ll be better for the both of us if we stopped meeting up like this.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought we were friends, (Y/N).”
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and you finally let go of him. You started to walk away, only to stiffen at the feeling of N’s hand on your shoulder.
“Can you at least tell me why?”
Maybe it was the form of contact, or maybe it was because of his question. Whatever it was, it was enough to make the pained feeling in your chest finally explode, causing tears to spill from your eyes.
“Because I’m in love with you,” you confessed, turning to look at him. Despite the tears running down your cheeks, you gave him the warmest smile you could offer. “I’m in love with you, N, and I can’t stand seeing you every week knowing that you’d never feel the same way.”
You brushed his hand away from your shoulder.
“I’ll never be that trainer you met two years ago, and I’ll never be able to replace them,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
That was the last thing you said to him before you left, leaving him to stand there alone.
~
“Alright, alright,” you said, reaching into the basket that you held in your hand. You pulled out a pastry that you had bought earlier, holding it out to your Pokémon.
They were quick to take the offered snack, letting out a sound of thanks before digging into the dessert. You couldn’t help but chuckle at their excitement.
It had been over a week since your last interaction with N. After you had left, you had returned home and spent most of your time in bed. Your mom, having grown worried, had insisted that you go out to drop off some food that she had cooked for a friend who was visiting Driftveil City.
“Going out will do you some good!” she had told you.
You had bought some pastries to go along with the food your mom had cooked, but it seemed as though your Pokémon (who you had let out of its Poké Ball to walk beside you) was quickly eating through your purchases.
“I swear, at this rate we’ll have no food left to deliver,” you said jokingly, causing your Pokémon to let out a small sound of annoyance as they continued eating.
You glanced up at the sky; it was getting late. Dark clouds hovered over you, threatening to release rain. You internally cursed yourself for not checking the weather before leaving home; none of the Pokémon in your current party could fly, so you had to depend on your running shoes and bike to get you from place to place.
You began to walk faster. You didn’t want to run, for your Pokémon was still in the middle of eating. Your partner seemed to sense your urgency, however, for they quickly finished eating and started to move at a pace a little bit ahead of you. You smiled at this.
A few seconds passed, and just as you expected it began to rain.
You started to run now; Driftveil City was still a good distance away, having just left Nimbasa City. The rain started to pour harder, the cold drops meeting your skin with every step you took.
This isn’t good…
You looked over to your right and saw that there were a good amount of trees nearby. You stopped running and called out your Pokémon’s name, causing them to stop moving as well. You motioned for them to follow you as you made your way over to the trees, going under their leaf-covered branches for protection against the rain. Fortunately, there were enough trees to create a cover that completely protected you and your Pokémon.
“We can just wait until the rain passes,” you said.
The presence of rain would’ve been calming to you if it weren’t for the fact that you were shivering. Your Pokémon let out a noise of worry, causing you to give a small smile.
“I’ll be fine,” you assured. “I think it’d be best if you returned to your Poké Ball for now, though. I’ll let you out again when the rain stops, okay?”
Your Pokémon gave a nod of understanding, and within seconds they had returned to their Poké Ball.
You sighed, taking a seat on the ground. You leaned back against a tree, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you tried to keep yourself warm. The clothes that you were wearing did little to defend you from the cold that was biting at your skin.
Alone with your thoughts, your mind wandered to N.
I wonder where he is now…
You felt your fingers going numb.
Was I right to just leave him like that?
Your visor was dripping with water, drops slowly falling onto your wet lap.
Wherever he is, I hope he’s alright.
You felt your eyes beginning to close, and before you completely passed out you could’ve sworn that you saw the silhouette of a man standing across from you.
~
“Mm… huh?”
Your eyes slowly opened, and you squinted as bright light met your vision. Letting out a groan, you pulled the blanket around you even tighter and rolled over.
Upon moving, you suddenly found yourself face-to-face with no other than N himself, which caused you to let out a yelp of surprise and sit up on the bed.
“THE HECK!?”
“Oh, you’re awake.” N looked relieved, seemingly unaffected by your sudden outburst. “You slept for quite some time. I was afraid that you weren’t going to wake up…”
“How the… where am I?” you asked. You looked around, recognizing the room to belong to that of a hotel. “Are we in Driftveil?”
N nodded. “Your friend told me that you were trying to come here. You were to drop something off apparently.” He gestured to your Pokémon, who was at the foot of the bed and looking over at you. “They mentioned something about delivering food to your mom’s friend.”
“Yeah.” You started to make your way out of the bed, only to be stopped by N’s hand suddenly grabbing onto yours.
“You should stay in bed. You were really cold when I brought you here,” he said gently, and you gave him a confused look as he pushed you so that you were sitting down again. “Your friend delivered the food for you, so you don’t need to worry anymore.”
“They did?” You glanced over at your Pokémon, who let out a noise of confirmation. “I see… thank you for that.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I let them out of their Poké Ball,” N said, watching your Pokémon as they made their way over to you. They circled around for a bit before settling down, eyes closing as they decided to take a nap. “I didn’t know what to do when I found you, so I had to ask them for help.”
“It’s fine,” you said. You noticed that N’s hand was still holding on to yours, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the realization.
Neither of you said anything for a moment.
Then…
“(Y/N)...”
You were caught off guard by N suddenly reaching a hand out to you, brushing a strand of your (h/c) hair away from your face. You found yourself staring at him, unable to look away from the blue-green eyes that stared back at you with an emotion that you could not comprehend.
“I’ve missed you,” he said simply.
“... why?” Your voice cracked slightly. “Why would you miss me? I’m not the one you love, you’re in love with…” You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.
He gave you a sad smile. “I did make it seem that way, didn’t I?”
The hand that brushed your hair aside was now resting on your cheek.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he apologized. “That trainer does mean a lot to me, for they really did teach me many things. I can’t help but miss them.” His thumb brushed over your cheek affectionately. “You were right when you said that you could never replace them.”
You felt your heart sink at his words.
He suddenly pressed a kiss onto your forehead. He lingered there for a moment before pulling away, a light blush on his cheeks as he did his best to maintain eye contact with you.
“And I wouldn’t want you to replace them,” N said softly, “because I only want you as my partner.”
You gave him a small smile.
“And I only want you as mine,” you said.
He leaned in and kissed you again, this time his lips meeting with your own.
#pokemon#pokemon n#pokemon natural harmonia gropius#natural harmonia gropius#pokemon black#pokemon white#pokemon black and white#pokemon black 2#pokemon white 2#pokemon black 2 and white 2#n x reader#natural harmonia gropius x reader#pokemon natural harmonia gropius x reader#i only played the games whoops
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A/n: Y'all I realised there's really not enough pregnant Jungkook on here with Jikook ofc I'm a sucker for them lately. Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, enjoy!
TW: Emeto, Mpreg
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"You alright babe?" Jimin rasps, leaning up so he was perching on his elbow as he squints his eyes where he could make out a faint figure of Jungkook half climbing; hauling himself onto the bed under the early greys of the morning.
"Mhmm," Jungkook hums quietly for a response, grimacing at the acid like texture in his throat that he was left with after throwing up. It was raw and strained, and Jungkook didn't like it one bit. He huffs and slips a hand under his shirt to hold on to his pudgy stomach, for two reasons. It was pushing past the waistline of his sweats from how bloated he was, after expelling the contents of his stomach routinely which tires him out endlessly and he wants to rip his insides out.
But Jungkook decides to be forgiving, because he's a few weeks into carrying the beautiful baby that he and Jimin had always dreamed about having. The pair had spent days and nights, with Jimin's head on Jungkook's torso as they both squabbled about how they'd raise their child way back in the boyfriend phase. (“One baby with your short genes, one with my tall genes and my good looks, how's that sound?" "Yah!") Jungkook reminds himself that it was all gonna be worth it in the end, it's always worth it. He imagines just how bright Jimin's eyes were to get once their baby was here, if it wasn't bright enough when Jungkook told him the news of his pregnancy; he fears he'd metaphorically go blind from his joy.
"I've just been sick." He murmurs, leaning back onto the headboard. Jungkook slouches, the energy sucked out of his bones as he shuts his eyes to hopefully regroup himself.
Jimin hums in acknowledgement, more awake now that he was aware of his husband's strife and leans over to press a generous kiss to his forehead. He wasn't going to let the younger deal with it alone, though the ones he accidentally sleeps through he's always up and at his service when needed and to smother him in love for afterwards.
"I thought you were gonna. I could hear your tummy all night going squelch squelch" He mumbles playfully, hoping it would lighten the dreadful atmosphere. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's stomach and begins to rub circles into it, hoping it would ease him some.
The latter's abs had begun to disappear and his stomach was slightly dome shaped from the swell he had, his skin was softer and squishier the closer he gets to the second trimester and Jimin couldn't keep his hands off of Jungkook. In his defense, his husband looked adorable pregnant, he adored the sight so much and loved the tiny being to bits already.
"Shut up Chim, listening to you is making me wanna vomit again" Jungkook groans, shifting on the mattress so he could get comfortable and pressing a fist to his lips as he feels his stomach fizzle up and an airy burp escape from his lips.
Jimin pouts, he begins carding through Jungkook's soft purple hair. "Still feel bad? Aren't you supposed to feel better after bringing everything up?" He questions, his heart clenching as he watches Jungkook's face begin to pale and paint a tinge of green.
Jungkook shrugs. "Dunno about that hyung, I don't feel better at all. I feel queasy" He admits, he'd learnt to vocalize to the older about how he felt; if he doesn't it's gonna end up with another one of Jimin's shirts in the wash, trust he's been there and learnt his lesson.
"My baby…" Jimin coos softly, propping up next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He keeps his fingers in Jungkook's hair, looking down at him and kissing the crown of his head as he slowly scratches his scalp. He holds the younger tighter when he stiffens and moans, his brows furrowing from the pain and havoc the nausea was causing in Jungkook's stomach from how he nuzzles his nose into Jimin's chest. "It's one of those days huh? Crackers and water, maybe some ginger ale if we feel less stubborn. How long does lil' bean plan to keep you sick for anyways?"
"That feels nice..." Jungkook mumbles out, relaxing a little. Jimin's soft yet aimless conversations helped keep him distracted, and so were his gentle touches they did a great job in lulling him to sleep.
Speaking of which, Jungkook is just about to drift into dreamland in the comfort of Jimin's arms when his stomach churns again. He feels a splash of bitter bile in the back of his throat, almost like the residue of sick that was still sitting at his throat from earlier. He almost sits upright, clenching his throat and covering his mouth as he belches. It catches Jimin's attention.
"Jungkookie, Jungkookie" Jimin says in a haste, cursing under his breath as he looks around for anything Jungkook to spew in without jostling his stomach too much. His eyes drawing back to the younger one in worry when he next hears a wet gag which meant he couldn't hold on any longer now that his hand was leaving his mouth.
Jimin looks around and finds the glass bowl he had on his side table which Jungkook had brought him months back, he sighs in relief. It was stashed with a bunch of sweets and random bits that he's quickly dumping out. He snags it up and under Jungkook's chin, straightening up with him and clicking his tongue when Jungkook whines and protests.
"It's okay, Jungkookie it's okay, do it here. In here babe, I'll clean it don't worry. It's just a bowl" He assures softly, lowering it slightly so it wasn't right in his face as he slowly massages the back of his neck.
Jungkook whimpers, feeling his stomach slosh and his muscles tense as he wraps an arm around his middle. He barely registers Jimin turning the lamp on before he's disgorging a stream of vomit into the bowl.
He pants and grunts, jolting with a hiccup. His breath gets caught in his throat and he gags, coughing and spluttering before more chunky liquid is brought up which splashes into the bowl. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, just the fact that it looked so much like his dinner still sent his stomach into another wheel.
"That's it, let it out Kookie, my sweet boy." Jimin hums, digging under the sick man's shirt and rubbing up and down his arched back. He grimaces when Jungkook retches again, throwing up even more which makes his heart ache.
"You're doing well bun, I'm so proud of you. Keep going until you feel like you've finished" He encourages, kissing his shoulder and pulling him closer before pausing when Jungkook sobs.
"H-hyung…" Jungkook chokes out, hiccuping as fat tears roll down his rosy and embarrassed cheeks. Usually, he's never one to cry so easily but pregnancy hormones had him spiralling into a pouty and emotional wreckage in a flash. Something was gnawing at him.
"Jungkookie" Jimin whispers so he didn't startle him, stroking his hair back as he listened.
"W-why this bowl… I got you it f-for our anniversary!" Jungkook cries out making Jimin flinch, his mouth wide in realisation now that Jungkook's refusal to puke earlier was because he didn't want to do it in such a meaningful, meaningful bowl. He forgot Jungkook was so peculiar about the little things.
"Y-you could've gotten-" Jungkook hiccups. "A-another bowl o-or the trashcan. I w-worked so hard to get you this. Do you know how much it cost me on our holiday? N-now I've been sick in it i-it's all ruined I fucking h-hate you" He rambles, in the spur of his overriding emotions he misses Jimin's amused expression.
"Cute" He murmurs under his breath with a quiet chuckle, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, squeaky clean and good as new. You won't even remember that you've been sick in it. I'm serious!" Jimin's voice raises a pitch as Jungkook looks at him unconvinced, his doe eyes still holding tears.
"Gimmie a kiss" He giggles, crawling forward while moving the bowl away as Jungkook groans loudly and scrunches his nose and tilts his head back. "A-ah ew no I've literally- Jimin I just puke-" He stammers, pursing his lips as Jimin eventually steals a kiss from him.
His tears were dry now, the fit subsided and it was only laughter and giggles together even if Jungkook's morning was off to a rough start Jimin always made it better.
#bts emeto#bts sickfic#bts mpreg#pregnant!jungkook#caring!jimin#sick!jungkook#tw mpreg#tw emeto#if you don't like it avoid pls
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losing my mind
pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst, accidents, wounds
based off “losing my mind” from bernadette peters/or follies
sequel to “always hate me”
The sun comes up, I think about you. The coffee cup, I think about you. I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. The morning ends I think about you, I talk to friends I think about you and no one knows it’s like I’m losing my mind. All afternoon doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright, sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left not going right ...
The sounds of the night infiltrated Frank’s mind like a drug, probably the only one he could take. Life seemed bleaker and this time he just couldn’t deal with it the was he normally did. Somehow drinking seemed to have no effect on him, drugs were just childish things and girls didn’t matter to him. He just roamed the Earth like a doomed soul with heavy metal spheres shackled to his ankle. Even his house no longer felt like home, every small thing reminding him of Y/N. From the little Beanie baby in the fireplace to the lingering scent of the laundry detergent she had swore to him was the best thing he could ever get and would make his clothes as soft as ever. It hurt him more not to have her on his side rather than Jack, Jack who he had known since he was a kid. No, he missed her and how she would drag him to watch Gossip Girl with her as Jack merely sneered at the idea or how she would eat only sweet and salty popcorn believing it tasted better.
The only thing that seemed to take his mind off was driving. He couldn’t sleep so driving was the only thing he could do. Just drive. Anywhere, for hours and hours on end with sleep weighting his eyelids and regret on his mind.
- Where are we going? - he turned his head to the side, Y/N sat on the passenger seat, burgundy dress on and feet up on the car console. She had a sassy look to her, hair pushed back with a gaze that almost mocked him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes wondering if his mind was playing a trick on him, which it definitely was. - Don’t worry, darling. I’m just a personification of guilt and lack of sleep.
- Go away. - he steered the wheel of his car, hoping the hallucination of Y/N would just disappear.
- I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel so guilty. - the corners of her lips were pushed upwards. - How long did you think I took to sleep with Jack, huh? Think we’re doing it right now?
- Shut up.
- He was always much more interesting than you. Smarter, sophisticated, the type of guy I’d take to my parents. You know my parents, right? You know they love Jack, they’re always talking about him and how smart he is. Do you wanna know what they say about you?
- Shut up. - he screamed but what was he screaming at? His own guilt, screaming at the personification, the realisation of his guilt standing there in that damned burgundy dress, the same dress he had met her. She was not there, she was not real, she was just a vision. Guilt and regret personified. - Go away.
- I can go away whenever you want, darling. Go on and do what you always do, go get high, overdose even and maybe I’ll disappear or maybe I won’t. We all know you’re gonna end up like that, dead, just a bit too much and I’m not gonna be there. Jack’s not gonna be there when you’re gone and we won’t care. You wanna know why? Because you push people away, you push them away because you know you’re a mess and being next to you is like dying from radiation poisoning. Slow and painful, side effects lasting forever.
- SHUT UP! - the lights of his car got brighter and brighter until he realised it wasn’t the light of his car that were shining at him. In a flash of second, his forehead hit the wheel of the thud and everything went black. The last thing he heard, his heart still beating and seemingly breaking out.
I dim the lights and think about you spent sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or where you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. Does no one know? It’s like I’m losing my mind.
The sizzling of the pan was everything that was heard on Y/N’s very small apartment just on the outskirts of town yet still with an unbelievable rent price tag. As she moved the pan, she looked up to the clock shining 4:04 AM. She sensed something was wrong yet she couldn’t pin point what is was. Had she forgotten rent? No, rent was surely paid. Were all bills paid? She didn’t know but something was deeply unsettling to her and as Jack, who had come over for a small dinner and catch up, spoke to her the tragedy-like feeling just rose out of her chest.
- Y/N? - he touched her wrist, noticing how still she was. - Hey, are you alright?
- Something’s wrong.
- What? Do you feel a disturbance in the Force? - he joked, trying to lighten the mood but Y/N was much to distressed to even get the joke. - Please tell me it’s not about Frank. It’s been two months.
- Frank? No. I’m just .. I’m just tired. - she sighed, grabbing the pan from the stove and placing it on the table, a perfect frittata. Jack merely raised an eyebrow, setting down his cutlery as she sat. - What?
- Normally if you don’t sleep that’s what happens. At this point I’m not entirely sure if stopping communication with Frank is hurting him or you more.
- It’s not about Frank, Jack. Cut it off, please. - she rolled her eyes, slicing half the dish for her and half for Jack. Of course that deep down she knew she was lying to herself, of course it was about Frank. Half of her didn’t want to admit it that she hadn’t caught a wink of sleep ever since Frank professed himself to her as that half knew what he was. She knew the type of guy he was, she had picked him up from one night stands houses, from the curb of sleazy bars and strip clubs. He wasn’t exactly what one would consider a partner yet at the same time she knew he could be good. He would always make sure to buy some sweet and salty popcorn despite hating them, even having a quarter of a shelf filled with them. Or when her engagement broke off and he sent her a care basket with the whole box collection of Friends and Gossip Girl.
- C’mon, Y/N. Spit it out, what is it? Have you also been in love with Frank for all these years? - it came out as more of a joke, a tiny yet full laugh coming from his throat yet Y/N remained still. - Oh my god. You’re in love with Frank.
10 YEARS AGO
Y/N walked into the Valentines’ Day party thrown by Jack, barely holding herself up in her pair of new heels and burgundy long sleeve fit and flare dress which at the time she had thought was very appropriate. The mood was mellow with low lights and pink and red helium balloons suspended into the air while a very slow and almost melodic version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” played.
Jack quickly noticed her, waving at her to come join him and his friends. In all honesty, she didn’t know any of the people here. She knew Jack from her English class as they had been paired together at the beginning but other than that it was mostly frat boys and their boyfriends.
- Hey, Y/N. I’m so happy you came. - he gave her a friendly hug before turning to his friends, or rather, one friend as the other men around seemed much more interested with their dates than him. His friend however quickly caught her attention. He was much more casually dressed than the other boys, wearing a button up shirt with a worn out coat and slightly ripped jeans. - This is my friend, Frank. Frank this is Y/N, we go to English class together.
- Nice to meet you Y/N from English class. - he raised his glass at her as she took a seat in the middle of the two boys. - What’s your poison?
- Oh, I’m really not in the mood for alcohol tonight. - she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a school girl talking to the jock.
- Ah, that bad? - he questioned, bringing the cup up to his lips. - Don’t feel bad. Valentine’s is a commercial invention and the break up rate is usually higher around it.
- Sounds like you’re the one who’s not dealing well with it. - he raised an eyebrow at her statement, amused look in his face. - Statistics quotes and all? Who broke your heart?
- No one breaks my heart, I don’t have one.
- Everyone has a heart no matter how hidden it is. That is just how anatomy works and you can choose to ignore that you have one or you can chose to accept you have one.
- You speak like an English student.
- You speak like a Law student. - she noted.
- How did you know? - he was amused by her, mostly how cut throat yet somehow soft she was about the information she was giving out.
- Law is reason free from passion. - she quoted, leaning her head against her own shoulder. - You seem to be void of it.
PRESENT
- You know Jack just because you’re very happy in a new relationship doesn’t mean I need one. - she was protective but she knew. She knew she loved Frank, she had loved him from the very moment they had known each other, she loved him through the recounts of his night stands, she loved him when she accepted a marriage proposal and she loved him when she left his life months ago. However, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together.
- I’m gonna ask you this only one time and whatever answer you give we won’t speak about it ever again. - his hand went to rest on top of hers, a caring look of that of a parent that Jack somehow always carried. She just stared at his hand, softly and safely on top of hers as he let the question go. - Are you in love with Frank?
The truth is not always kind or reassuring, it’s not always soft or climatic and in this case it was just ... freeing in a painful sort of way. The pain of holding it in for ages, pretending it would just disappear, the pain of leaning her head against his shoulder whenever they had show marathons and knowing it was just that, just a momentaneously second of paradise which would never come to fruition. The truth that she knew, that she had always known, coming out scared her more than her words could ever describe them. There’s knowing and there’s saying and sometimes speaking is harder that acknowledging.
- Yes and I really don’t ... - her phone ring interrupted her. Her gaze moved slowly across the room, sensing something in the air that felt like tragedy in the end. Without much thought, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen island, putting it up to her ears.
There are moments that the words don’t reach, you hear something but it just doesn’t register, it just doesn’t reach your senses and for Y/N this was one of those moments. The grip on her phone grew lose causing the device to slide off her hand and into the ground which in turn made Jack get up to notice how every single thread of joy seemed to have left her face. Before he could even question what was happening, she rushed up to her door, grabbing her jacket and keys. Jack followed behind the crazed woman who pretty much pulled the door of her car open.
- Where are we going? - Jack asked her but she continued to drive. The short ten minute drive seemed to take hours and hours and as the emergency unit of the hospital became clear to Jack, he understood what that call was about.
She parked the car like a crazy person, immediately jumping off the car, still wearing her pyjamas and slippers which were hidden by her black trench coat. Her heart was beating like a drum as she hit the front desk where a less than bothered nurse was filling her nails and having small talk with her colleagues.
- Hi? Sorry, hi. - Y/N knew she sounded desperate but she was. - I got a call about a car crash. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.
- Follow me.
All afternoon doing every little chore the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left, not going right. I dim the lights and think about you, spend sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind?
The small noise of beeping woke him from his transe. All around white, nothing but white and if people were right than maybe he was in heaven however as his eyes got accustomed he could see the machines but more than machines, what really frightened him was the vision of Y/N.
- Hey, darling. - her hand came to caress his face making him wonder if he was seeing her or if she was one of his tired mind’s inventions.
- Are you real? - his words were slow and droopy, caused by the high amount of morphine they had injected him with.
- Yeah, I’m afraid so. - she gave him a kind smile, hand pushing his messy hair away from his forehead. - Me and Jack were so worried.
- I wasn’t high, Y/N. I promise. - he didn’t know what was wrong with him, maybe he didn’t want her to be even more disappointed than she already was with him.
- I know, you just had a car crash, darling. You probably have enough morphine in you to put down an elephant.
- No, Y/N. I, I got distracted in the road I wasn’t using or drinking or with a girl, you have to believe me.
- Frank, darling, I know. You’re in the hospital, you don’t need to apologise to me. I was so worried about you and so was Jack.
- Jack’s here?
The girl nodded, pushing the hair away from his forehead once again, leaning to kiss his forehead. He was covered in small cuts caused by small shards of his car’s broken windows and a few gashes which she just couldn’t look at without feeling the tears submerge to her eyes. A sea of guilt was storming in her chest and although her subconcious kept telling her this would never be her fault, it was merely a car crash, her heart told her something else. Friday night. Gossip Girl night when Frank would bake the only thing he could without setting the kitchen on fire, mozarella and tomato pesto salad, and the two of them would sit down and watch two seasons in one night. If she hadn’t ... She didn’t even wanted to think about it.
Frank on the other hand could see the distinct pain on her features. The pressure of her muscles creasing her soft features, lines by her eyes and lips quivering. It hurt, it just hurt more than he could phantom something would hurt, it hurt more than his wounds, it hurt more than knowing he’d hurt her several times, it hurt to see her so hurt and being able to do absolutely nothing yet that seemed to be a pattern. Frank always did nothing.
9 YEARS AGO
Valentine’s Day. Again. And Y/N was once again at the same party, the same decorations, the same slow version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” playing in the background, the only thing missing being Jack and Frank. Jack was on a date with a girl named Catherine whom he gushed about all the way through first until last period and Frank, well, Frank was out with a girl named Mandy. Oh Mandy, where to start with Mandy? Y/N hated Mandy. They had been housemates during the first year of university and if there was someone who could get her on her last nerve and consider murder it was her. Not only had she been a nightmare to live with, constantly refusing to clean or do any house chores, eating the food Y/N bought for herself. God, she was an absolute nightmare but Frank was interested in her and therefore Y/N held herself back.
She sighed ordering a virgin mojito, wanting to remain sober and not get drunk and end up in bed with one of the various frat boys around. Looking at her phone she noticed the hour, 23:20, only forty more minutes of this painful holiday and she could be free from her feeling of loneliness. As she was about to turn off her phone to enjoy her drink, a message fell. Frank.
“How’s commercial holiday? Found a suitable partner yet?”
She smiled faintly at the text, finger lingering over his name on the phone.
“I guess it’s alone commercial holiday for me once again”
She turned off her phone, not wanting to see another text from him, afraid it would be about how well his date was going with the housemate from Hell. Staring at her glass, she mixed the drink using the little heart shaped wood pick. As she took the first sip, the slow version of the song ceased to play and in its place “At Last” started to play because why play actual upbeat songs on a holiday where 50% of the population was miserable.
On that moment she decided she was better off alone in her room rather than in the middle of various single people expecting their fantasy of coupleness to occur. As she picked her clutch and looked for the door, she found Frank coming him, same old beat jacket that had become a trademark over the years. He gave her a little grin, walking towards her.
- Couldn’t let you spend Valentine’s alone. - he said before she could even question his appearence at this party. - C’mon, I have some red velvet cupcakes, wine and a blanket. Let’s go to the beach.
PRESENT
Y/N had remained at the hospital for the two days he had been in, barely catching a second of sleep until tiredness finally beat her and had her sleeping against the uncomfortable hospital chair. The moment she went to sleep was the moment he woke up from his morphine induced sleep, eyes immediately focusing on her and how her hair fell in front of her face as she rested for the first time in two days. He moved slightly in his bed to better stare at her which led her to wake her up with the noise, moving her head upright immediately.
- You’re awake. - she gave him a sleepy grin, straightening her back. - The doctor said you should be free to go home today.
- You should go home, Y/N. - his voice was still somewhat raspy from all the medication they’d been giving him. - I’m really not worth this.
- I have nothing better to do besides my neighbours are renovating, so it’s awfully noisy.
- Y/N, you really don’t need to be here.
- I think that’s the thing, Frank. - she gave him a soft smile, raising from her couch to go stand near him. - I think ... no, I know, I know I’m always gonna be here.
You said you loved me or were you just being kind or am I losing my ... mind?
everything taglist: @connie326 @lookiamtrying
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan/reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan/you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan/y/n#sebastian stan drabble#sebastian stan fanfic#sebastian stan imagine#frank imagine#eb!frank#endings beginnings
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↳Genre: Angst (literally that’s all this is)
↳Prompt: “If you don’t hold me right now, i might just fall apart”
↳Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: Manipulation and betrayal
Pairing: Jungkook x female reader
↳Synopsis:
Jeongguk lets go of you. But when he comes back into your life for the briefest of moments he’s a little too late.
↳A/N: This is for the wonderful @gguksgalaxy for the prompt game which I was doing like months ago. I wrote this long ago and forgot to post it (big dumb energy) Sorry Gwaen. The ending made me super sad though. But I hope you like it!
{18 years of age}
Your heart thumps in your chest as everyone slowly gets picked into the teams. This is why you hated PE. You were usually the last one to be picked because everyone knew of your thorough incapability to play any kind of sports. It was common knowledge within your high school. So when you were forced to choose physical education as an elective to complete the required credits to graduate, you had no choice but to make yourself resilient to the fact that you would always be picked last.
It was worse because right now Jimin and Jeongguk were the captains of the dodgeball teams. As soon as he was chosen the captain of Team A Jimin had immediately looked to you and a sly smile tugged on his lips. You could see the wheels turning in his mind and you knew he was up to something.
So as you stand in the horrible PE attire you hope Jimin chooses you because the alternative will likely end up with you passing out. You can’t be in the same team as Jeon Jeongguk because you have a massive crush on him and every time you see him you feel like you will die. Some people call it being overdramatic but you call it being a teenager with no control over her emotions. You and Gus Isaacs are the only two people left as Jimin picks one of the guys from grade 12 into his team as his second-last pick. Not you, but someone else.
“Y/n”
You hear your name somewhere far in the distance but ignore the call and continue ruminating and chewing on your lip in the process.
“Y/n” you hear your name again, and this time it’s a bit clearer but you still ignore it and think you are probably hallucinating. Until Gus Isaacs elbows your side to bring you back to reality.
You wince in pain and hold onto the spot, giving Gus the evil eye as he motions towards the front. “Jeongguk chose you to be in his team”
You blink stupidly at him as if you can’t comprehend what he’s saying. You can’t. You hear the words ‘Jeongguk chose you to be in his team’ but they don’t connect right in your head. In fact they don’t connect at all so you miss the memo while the whole class gawks at you as you stare blankly at Gus.
“Y/n, do you wanna join the team?” Jeongguk asks firmly and with the usual confidence he carries.
In your repeated blinking state you turn to look ahead only to be subjected to a questioning look by Jeongguk.
Then your vision starts blurring and the last thing you remember is a heavy feeling taking over your limbs and someone shouting your name.
You awaken about an hour later in the school infirmary. You crack open an eye to find a boringly dull white ceiling gracing your view. You open your other eye and lower your gaze to find-
“Jeongguk?”
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Why the fuck is Jeon Jeongguk here and not Jimin?
“I am fine” you strain as you try to get up. Jeongguk immediately places his hands on your elbows to help you sit up. You’re too wrapped up in your confusion to notice Jeongguk is touching you, otherwise, there would have been a reaction. “Where is Jimin?”
“He had to go to class and well someone needed to be here with you. So, I stayed”
“You don’t even know me” it’s a wonder you’re able to speak at all given that you fainted because of him. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Are you kidding me?” he scoffs in a non-condescending way. “I have had every class with you since grade 8. Of course, I know you. Plus Jimin never shuts up about you and how great you are”
“You know me?” your eyes widen
He rolls his eyes. “Stop treating me like I am some damn celebrity. Contrary to the popular belief I am not a jerk”
“But you are a celebrity” you mumble under your breath, sheepishly casting your gaze at your lap.
“What?” he squints his eyes at you.
“Nothing. You can go by the way. I am fine” you swing your legs over the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. You pull yourself up with effort but a light feeling runs through you and you wobble on your feet and fall back down on the tiny bed.
“Yeah. You’re totally fine” Jeongguk muses sarcastically as he steadies you. “The nurse said you should go home. I’ll take you. Come on”
Your muscles feel tight and you feel the tension in every limb. This is probably what your mom means when she says she’s had an arthritis flare-up. It’s definitely not a fun feeling. You can’t move a muscle as Jeongguk quietly waits for you to say something. This is the most surreal situation you have ever been in. The eighteen-year-old you, crazed by hormones and prone to fantasizing doesn’t know how to deal with it.
“I can go home by myself”
“Sure. If you want faint on the way and then get kidnapped by some random creepy dude. Go ahead. Eighteen-year-old girls are like a hot commodity for those psycho’s” Jeongguk says firmly, clearly trying to scare you into submission.
“What makes you think I won’t get kidnapped if you’re with me?” you question with a slight intention of teasing.
He looks scandalized as his nose scrunches and brows knit together so tightly you never thought it was possible for someone to be that offended. “Excuse me. Have you seen me?”
Yes of course, you have seen him. You’ve memorized his whole fucking face and embedded it so deep into your memory you made sure that even retrograde amnesia couldn’t get rid of it. You have been looking at him from afar for so long, you know every little thing about him.
“Just because you are slightly buff doesn’t mean you can help me”
“Wow” his jaw drops. “I have added weights to my routine so I am way stronger than I used to be. I could protect you”
“Spoken like a true teenage guy living on testosterone” you chuckle.
He rolls his eyes yet again. “So now that I have proven my point, can I take you home?”
“I’ll spare your ego” your lips pull into a grin which he echoes.
He wraps an arm around your waist and you stand firmly on the ground, waiting to feel stable before you begin walking. Jeongguk doesn’t let go eyes resting on your face as he watches you inhale slowly before nodding.
Your skin burns, every limb feels with fiery wrath the effect of his touch. Your mouth dries, throat completely parched. Your hands become clammy as you curl your fists into the sticky palm.
“Are you good?” he asks
You nod. “It’s alright. You can let go”
“And have you fall and then I get blamed for it? No way” he shakes his head, resolute.
You sigh. “Fine then. Walk me home” you say and you won’t lie that even just a little part of you is ecstatic.
“Gladly” he greets you with a grin when you look up at him. “Where is your locker?” he asks as you both step out of the infirmary and into the quiet hall.
“It’s okay. I can text Jimin to bring my stuff later”
“You and Jimin that close?” he sounds resigned about it.
“I thought Jimin talked about me” you question as you walk side by side, Jeongguk guiding you with his hand on the small of your back.
“He says you’re friends. But he never mentioned you were close enough for him to go to your house” Jeongguk explains, his previously cheery voice slightly deflated.
“That’s kinda hard to do when he lives just down the street and he loves my mom’s cooking” you press your lips into a thin smile.
“Ah” he nods in acknowledgement. “Is he just a friend or…” Jeongguk trails, not really needing to go any further because it is self-explanatory.
You reach the west side exit and step out into the cool spring afternoon with the sun shining brightly overhead. “Why are you so interested?” you cock a brow at him.
“No reason” he shrugs. “Just wanted to know if Jimin had a girl” he waves it off casually. “Anyway, so tell me something about yourself”
Your eyes narrow in confusion. “We’re making small talk now?”
“I didn’t mention the weather did I?” Jeongguk chuckles.
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
He pouts, eyes squinting as he looks into the distance. He looks cute when pouts and he does that a lot. It’s creepy that you know this but when you’ve spent a better part of your high school life fantasizing over the guy it becomes second nature after a while.
“Tell me something Jimin doesn’t know” his eyes widen with a hint of excitement.
“Oh, that’s hard because I tell Jimin everything” you pause, trying to rack your brain for something you have never told Jimin.
“There has to be one thing” Jeongguk prompts.
Your lips just out as you try really hard to think.
Then it hits you.
“Don’t tell him but one time when we were younger he thought he lost his favourite toy. But really I took it from him and never told him about it”
“Wow. What a thief” Jeongguk teases with a laugh.
“He still talks about it and it’s so awkward” you shake your head, reminiscing about the time when Jimin has mentioned his missing action figurine.
“Why did you take it?” Jeongguk asks.
“The day before I took it, he went off to play with some of the other kids. I was mad that I had to play alone while he was having fun with them on the roundabout, and the swings and they were running around laughing. I felt abandoned so the next day I took it and pretended like he lost it”
“Remind me not to piss you off” he jokes, his hand which was resting on the small of your back, suddenly thrown over your shoulder.
You look down at his hand as it dangles over your shoulder. It’s awfully intimate for two people who have just met. But you shake your head because you can’t let these thoughts limit you and freeze you up. You’re finally talking to him and you’re having a good conversation. So you can’t jeopardize this because your body automatically reacts to his touch. That can’t be why you shoot yourself in the foot, so you maintain your calm by inhaling deeply and forcing your body to relax.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone” you look at him, noticing how he’s chewing on his lips looking into the distance.
He looks down at you with a soft smile. “I’ll tell you. I promise. When the time is right”
“How is that fair?” you pout.
“Wow child” he pinches your nose, wrinkling his own nose in a cute manner. He retracts his hand, letting it fall to his side.
“Fine. It’s not like I’ll die if I don’t know your deepest darkest secret”
It elicits a hearty laugh from him.
{20 years of age}
Jeongguk stands at your door, chewing on his lip as he tries to decide if he’s making the wrong move. But then he remembers he promised he’ll tell you something he hasn’t told anyone. Even if that was two years ago and he’s a little too late in keeping his promise he still needs to tell you. He doesn’t know where it’s going to head, or what exactly he’s going to say because you’re kind of his best friend and he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care about you.
So with a deep inhale he knocks on the door and waits. He can hear the footsteps nearing and then the door opens to reveal you.
“Who invited you?” you joke, stepping aside and motioning for him to come in.
“I invited myself. I think I can come to my best friend’s house without an invitation. It’s kinda my right” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple before ridding himself of his shoes and walking down the hall and falling onto the couch.
You follow him with a shake of the head. After two years of being friends and then eventually best friends with him, you’ve made yourself five percent immune to his actions which border between platonic and romantic. You don’t think he realizes it because he always does things like holding your hand out of nowhere or kissing you on the forehead as a goodbye.
You collapse next to him, and like a reflex, he pulls you into him wrapping an arm around your shoulder, fingers stroking the soft flesh. “I ask again you’re here because…”
“I can’t come and see my best friend? I missed you” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes close momentarily as you cherish his touch because this is all you will get. This is as close you will be to being something more to him.
“You can. But you just saw me five hours ago and we hung out. Now you’re here and you’re…” you look up at him and place your index finger in the middle of his forehead. “Now you’re frowning which means you’re stuck”
“I am stuck?” he looks down at you, a soft crinkle in the corner of his eyes.
“I mean something is bothering you” you pull your finger away and rest your hand in your lap.
“How do you always know?” he smiles softly.
Yeah. How do you know?
Is it because you have loved the guy for so long or because you pay very careful attention to him? It’s not like you can tell him so you settle for-
“I just know. Now tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours” you tap his temple with your finger.
“Okay first, I am not big-headed. Secondly, I have something to tell you”
“Are you finally going to keep your promise from two years ago?” you shuffle your head so you can get a look at him. He’s lost in thought, a vacant expression holding his gaze away from you.
“I am kind of dating Kira” he lets out a shaky breath.
You pull yourself away, suddenly feeling cold all over. Your heart pounds against your chest, the rhythm thrumming so loud in your ears they start ringing. You swallow, looking into the eyes of this majestic man in front of you who has slipped from your fingers like sand. There is no hope now. He’s gone.
But worse than that he’s dating Kira. She’s the epitome of a mean girl. Even worse.
“Since when?” you whisper softly, feeling your heart shatter into pieces as each second passes by.
“Four months” he replies, not meeting your gaze. “I was going to tell you but I thought I’d wait until things get serious enough”
If there was ever any hope of recovering from this, it’s gone now. You can imagine yourself moping, and crying in the near future because you couldn’t tell him first how you felt. Maybe if you had given in to bravery instead of your fears you might have been the one dating him.
“Why?” your heartbreak echoes in your words. You don’t know if he can hear it. You’re not even mad that he kept it from you for months. You are so severely hurt you can’t even begin to feel angry about it. It feels hollow inside, like the place where your heart should be is empty. A cold chill runs down your spine as you stare into Jeongguk’s eyes-- the ones that always feel like home-- but now they feel like a strange abyss.
“Because she’s actually sweet. She’s nice”
You put your feelings aside for a moment because this is bigger than you. Just because you feel like you’re suffocating sitting next to him; just because it feels like the end and just because you feel like you’ll die doesn’t mean you’ll let him ruin himself. She’s wrong for him in ways he can’t see.
“Jeongguk. Listen, I know you think you like her. I know you think she’s nice but she’s not”
“Please y/n” he whispers, reaching for your hand and holding it in his. “Not you. You have to side with me on this”
“I want to. If this was someone else” your throat constricts even thinking about it. You swallow. “I would be completely happy for you. But Kira isn’t what you deserve. You deserve better. You deserve good and she’s not it”
Jeongguk’s hold on your hand slackens. “Just because you can’t see the good in her, doesn’t mean she isn’t”
You stare back at him, the way his jaw sets tightly, the way he’s trying so hard not to be angry at you. “I can’t. I can’t tell you what you want to hear. My job as your best friend is to save you not destroy you”
He pulls his hand away from yours and gets up. “Whatever,” he says. “I don’t need your approval. I just thought I should tell you”
“Jeongguk-”
“Bye y/n” his gaze lingers on you before he walks to the front door and leaves.
You didn’t think your friendship with Jeongguk was so fragile that it would fracture under the weight of his feelings for Kira. But since he’s actually avoiding you, you presumed wrong. He’s not been answering any of your texts or calls. He hasn’t visited you even once in the weeks after he admitted the truth to you.
He’s vanished from your life-- like he never existed.
It leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach to know that he’s just decided not to be a part of your life anymore. You feel hurt, but more than feeling hurt you feel disappointed in yourself. Trust is a fickle thing. It’s earned through effort and broken without lifting a finger. Did Jeongguk not know that? Does he not understand that you want what is best for him? Can he really not see that you have always been on his side?
But how do you bring someone back from the edge when they have decided to take the fall?
“Missing your best friend?” Kira makes an unwanted appearance as your eyes focus back to reality. She’s got a sly smirk on her face.
You roll your eyes. “I am sure you got into his head”
“He’s not a plaything. He knows what’s right and wrong for him” she folds her arms across her chest.
“You got what you wanted. Fuck off now” you bite through clenched teeth as you gather your belongings, ready to leave. You’re almost out of the door when Kira speaks.
“He knows you like him.” she says in a condescending tone.
Your steps halt and so does your heart. You turn around. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower”
She shrugs. “Your perceptions of me are your problem. Not mine”
“A snake like you doesn’t deserve him”
She laughs with a roll of her eyes. “You think you deserve him?”
Your jaw sets tight as you glare at her. “I do. I deserve him because I’ve been with him through thick and thin. I’ve mended his broken heart, I’ve tended to him when he fell sick, I’ve put my life on hold to help him live his. So fuck yes I deserve him”
She quietly observes smirk still plastered to her lips like she’s incapable of expressing herself in any other way. But then the smirk falters and sets into a frown. “Y/n please don’t” she reaches for your hands, crushing them between hers on purpose.
“What?” your nose scrunches in confusion.
“Jeongguk is your best friend. Don’t leave him because of me” her eyes become glossy, furthering your confusion. “I’ll break up with him” a single tear escapes her eye.
“Wha-”
“Kira. Dont.” a firm voice draws your attention. You turn around to find Jeongguk glaring at you.
With quick strides, he stands between you and Kira and he tugs her hands out of yours.
“I know you don’t like her but I never thought you would try to go behind my back and try to sabotage my relationship” Jeongguk looks at you with such venom laced eyes it pulls at your heartstrings.
“What? I didn’t even-”
“It’s okay kookie” Kira sniffles leaning into his chest.
You gawk at her, blinking repeatedly at the scene in front of you.
“Wow” your brows knit together, jaw agape as you look at her completely mortified. “She’s lying” you turn to Jeongguk. His nostrils flare, chest heaving as he stares at you--clearly not believing you, his best fucking friend of two years. He takes the word a girl he’s known for a few months. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. His eyes say it all, the hatred with which he’s looking at you says it all.
“You know what Jeongguk, she’s changed you and you can’t even see it” your eyes sting with tears. You have so much to say but you bite your words because Jeongguk can’t see past his feelings.
“You just can’t see me happy because you like me” his voice cracks, and you can see the shine overcoming his eyes before he turns away.
Your heart sinks in your chest. It’s not what he’s saying. It’s the accusatory tone of his voice that hurts. “Well, congratulations Jeongguk. You don’t have to feel burdened by it anymore. Have a great fucking life” you bite.
Kira looks up at you, a smile quivering on her lips. She glances up at Jeongguk who’s looking away to the side and then turns to you as she lets herself smile. She’s won.
You turn on your heels and walk away from them-- from the pain of it all because there is no point anymore. It’s like someone has driven a stake through your heart. It would have been better if that happened because the alternative is losing your best friend which hurts more than any pain that could be inflicted on you.
There is a sharp ache that settles in your chest as you walk away. But even as you do there is a tiny sliver of hope that he’ll call out your name and tell you to stay. Bit by bit it breaks as you step further away from him, until you are out of the door.
But you don’t hear his voice
{23 years of age}
You didn’t think you would ever get over Jeongguk. But Jimin helped you in ways you couldn’t imagine. He never took advantage of your vulnerable state, he never inserted himself in your life when you were at your weakest. He was just there, being your friend when you realized that somehow he had pieced your heart back together without even trying.
He never tried to get you to move on from Jeongguk. He knew you liked him-- loved him rather. He was there for the drunken nights when all you could manage were sobs because your chest felt tight, and memories of Jeongguk would come rushing back in your inebriated state. Jimin’s silence spoke volumes and even through the haze you could see how much he cared as he would silently place your head on his shoulder and hold you close.
Since the day Jeongguk let you walk away from his life, Jimin has been there. He’s with you now, holding your hand, squeezing it tight as Jeongguk stands in front of you, puffy-eyed. Jimin slowly laces his fingers with yours, eyes never wavering from Jeongguk. The breath that has been caught in your throat finally releases and relief floods your chest. A slight ache settles deep somewhere, into far depths of your entire being and it begins to radiate until you feel a sharp stabbing sensation in your chest that has you squeezing Jimin’s hand like its your lifeline.
“Y/n” Jeongguk’s quiet and firm voice reverberates through the air as it reaches you
Pain forgotten, your eyes find purchase on the floor. You can feel your knees beginning to give out, a slight quiver indicating that you won’t be able to stand much longer. You are suddenly steadied on your feet. You look down at your waist to find a hand resting on your side.
“I’ve got you y/n. You just have to be brave” Jimin whispers in your ear.
You don’t know how to be brave. You thought three years was enough time to prepare yourself, to harden your heart to the fact that Jeon Jeongguk would never be a part of your life again. But maybe you never could move on. Maybe you will never be able to forget Jeongguk. Maybe you will never be strong enough to stand on your feet by yourself in front of him, and perhaps he will always be your greatest weakness.
But he looks broken.
As much as you did the day he let go of you without a second of hesitation. You can still remember the look of determination in his eyes, his set jaw, as he had looked away and without even a glance let you walk away from him.
That should be enough to make all the panic go away. That should give way to anger. But all that serves to do is remind you of how much it hurt to let him go.
“How have you been?” Jeongguk speaks but this time his voice shakes.
You shudder.
“I- I wanted to see you earlier but…” he trails off.
You just have to be brave- Jimin’s voice rings in your head.
“Let’s go Jimin” your voice is meek. Your action is anything but.
Jimin nods and leads you, his hand still holding onto yours tightly as you begin to walk past Jeongguk. It feels slightly nostalgic--walking away from him all over again.
“Y/n wait” Jeongguk is quick to catch a hold of your wrist just as you are passing by him.
You’re tugged in both directions as both men hold onto your hands. You’re forced to stop and face Jeongguk.
“You know you have some nerve Jeongguk” Jimin’s voice is firm as he grits his teeth.
“Stay out of it, Jimin. Please” Jeongguk stares intently at Jimin, but his tone isn’t hostile.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s making her uncomfortable” Jimin bites back, hardly able to control his anger. It seeps through his words.
Jeongguk’s eyes shift focus to you and it’s clear as day that you are in fact uncomfortable. He notices the pained look in your face, the cloud of wispy breath fogging his view as you inhale sharply. He can see it in the way you’re avoiding him, the way your eyes are dancing around, restless and refusing to settle.
He lets go and licks his lips. “I am sorry y/n”
That gets your attention. It’s taken him three years to say that to you. “Sorry?” you scoff, anxiety and inhibition are forgotten as you meet his gaze.
“I know I was a dick to you-”
“You broke my heart Jeongguk. You broke--” you stop to gulp the tight knot down your throat. “You broke my heart to pieces and you didn’t even hesitate. Your ‘sorry’ won’t fix it”
“I know. So tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it”
“You can’t. I won’t make you feel guilty and tell you that you could have done it. I know you were in love. But were you so afraid of my feelings for you that you couldn’t even have listened to me? We could have been friends in the very least. I would have been fine with it”
There is a pregnant pause. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter to the ground, and he chews on his lip in silence.
“I wouldn’t have been y/n” his gentle voice cuts through
“What?”
“You’re right. The moment I found out you liked me, I freaked out. I realized something at that moment and it scared me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I thought the best thing would be for me to let you go. Then I saw Kira crying and I thought you guys got into a fight and it gave me a reason to let you go. Otherwise, I never would have”
You feel Jimin looking at you through the periphery. You quickly glance at him. Jeongguk lifts his head to meet your gaze.
“What scared you?”
“The fact that I liked you. The realization that I had--have-- always liked you scared me. It terrified me because it was too real. I could see it in my head y/n-- being with you. It was easy to imagine but I have been a commitment-phobe my entire life. I just couldn’t bring myself to”
You gulp hard. Your mouth is dry and in the cold January morning, your hand starts to sweat. You blink profusely at Jeongguk, unable to fathom his words. Jimin squeezes your hand, reassuring you, and reminding you to stay in the moment and not get swept away in the flood of your feelings. It grounds you and enables you to look a Jeongguk without feeling like you will lose your breath at any moment.
“I am sorry Jeongguk. You’re a little too late” you spare him one moment of a glance before turning on your heels.
“If you don’t hold me right now, I might just fall apart” his voice squeaks.
You halt in your steps. You pivot on your heels and face him. He stands with his head hung low, soft muffled sounds escaping his mouth, and you can see a tear fall down his cheek. You quickly look at Jimin.
“Y/n” he says warningly.
But you nod your head in reassurance and he loosens his grip on your hand.
“I’d never let you fall apart Jeongguk. Never” you say quietly as you stand on your toes and wrap your hands behind his shoulders in an embrace. A moment passes as he stands limply in your arms before you feel his hands squeezing around your waist. “I know what it’s like to fall apart and feel alone. I’d never wish that for you” you hug tighter, resting your chin against his shoulder. You can hear the sound of his tears hitting your jacket, and it breaks your heart too.
A few beats of silence pass while you hold each other. You feel the heaviness that had weighed your heart down for three years melting away. Jeongguk sniffles and steps back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“So does that mean-” you can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“No” you say firmly, holding his hands into yours. “No Jeongguk. I won’t be able to this time” you shake your head and just like that the dull look is back in his eyes. “Look at what not being together did to us. Being together would destroy us. The possibility that it could go sideways at any moment would ruin both of us. I told you, I will not let that happen to you” your voice quivers.
“Y/n…”
“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember Jeongguk. I still do and maybe I always will. But we can’t always have what we want, can we?” your lips curl into a faint smile.
Jeongguk sighs heavily. Tears stream down his cheeks as they do yours. “No, we can’t” he replies, his fingers slipping through your hands.
“Bye Jeongguk” you stand on your toes as you kiss his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away.
“Bye y/n” he whispers, closing his eyes. He hears your footsteps retreat. He feels the cold breeze of wind caressing his face. He opens his eyes.
You’re gone.
And he is alone.
Let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading this!
#bts#bts scenarios#bts reactions#bangtanhq#ficswithluv#bts jungkook#bts angst#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook imagines#jungkook one shot#bts writing#bts fanfiction#sfw
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Give It a Try
Mark Tuan X Male Reader
Word Count: 3.2K
Genre: Fluffy with a tiny bit of angst
Summary: You and Mark have been tip toeing around each other’s feelings for the last few months but that’s because you’re afraid to give him your all. However, after coming to the conclusion that he genuinely cares for you and wants to take things further between the two of you, you no longer see the point in preventing things to blossom in to something beautiful.
A/N: This was requested by @xavi-in-kpopland this is actually my first time writing a male x male story so I hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if it doesn’t reach your expectations :( but thank you again for requesting! (Based on the song Fire by the Pointer Sisters)
I'm ridin' in your car You turn on the radio You're pullin' me close I just say no I say I don't like it But you know I'm a liar 'Cause when we kiss, ooh FireLate at night You're takin' me home You say you want to stay I say I want to be alone I say I don't love you But you know I'm a liar 'Cause when we kiss, ooh Fire
“I can feel you looking at me. You’re not exactly discreet about it Mark. Stop that. You’re supposed to keep your eyes on the road. If we die tonight because you can’t keep your eyes off of me, I’ll kill you.” His adorable high pitch laughter that you loved yet hated so much because of the effect it had on you echoed throughout his car and overpowered the playlist of songs he claimed reminded him of you.
The two of you had just finished watching the new Keanu Reeves movie that recently came out and Mark’s been begging you to go and see it with him as soon as he saw the movie poster posted up at the mall. At first, you rejected him just to play around with him but deep down you knew you were going to give in to him. You’d do anything for the beautiful boy behind the wheel; he meant a lot to you. More than you wanted to admit out loud to him and even to yourself.
You enjoyed playing hard to get; something about knowing that the most admired and desired guy on campus having eyes for nobody else but you sent fire to your bones. You knew you had Mark hooked, but you wanted to make sure he was in it for the long run and that his intentions were pure. The last thing you needed was for the most popular guy in school to dump you like you were nothing and leave you in the dust, making you look like the biggest loser at your university.
To your dismay, the more time you spent with him, the faster you began losing your resolve; but it was inevitable. You and Mark have been fooling around with one another for almost four months now. There was a little voice in the back of your head telling you that he would’ve left a long time ago if he didn’t have at least some kind of romantic feelings for you and you were well aware that Mark was where you kept your heart. It took you a while to accept your feelings for him, but you loved Mark.
Although some people may consider it too early to really know how far your feelings went for him, when it’s love you just know. There was a warm feeling in your chest every time you’d spend time with him and once he would drop you back to your apartment, you were left feeling empty and counted down the hours until you got to see him again. You wanted to wait it out a little bit more to see that he was worth risking your heart for. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. No; in the last four months, he’s shown you nothing but kindness, support, patience and generosity.
He helped you learn to love who you were and to embrace your sexuality. It’s just that you’ve been hurt a few times in the past by assholes who thought it would be funny to pretend that they too were interested in guys knowing that you were one of the only people who genuinely did not care if everyone knew your gender preference when it came to your significant other. Knowing who he was and who his friends were, you were afraid to let Mark in your life the day he approached you in your religion class asking you for help.
All the girls in your class were extremely obvious about their attraction for him and you couldn’t blame them; he was indescribably good looking and quite the charmer. But from what you heard through the grapevine, Mark had no interest in girls. There were days where you found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like getting to date him, hold hands with him, go on cute little dates with him and to kiss those plump lips of his; but that’s all you had thought would happen.
If someone were to tell you months ago that you’d be in a complicated relationship with Mark, you’d laugh in their face. You didn’t know when your tutoring sessions turned in to meeting up with him to get food at two in the morning, or cuddling with him while he played video games over at your apartment, but it was in those moments where you’d find yourself questioning the status of your relationship with the older boy. The two of you were more than friends but less than lovers and you knew it was because you weren’t ready to take things further just yet.
If you were to put a title on what you and Mark were, you had a feeling things would only go downhill from there and you didn’t want to lose him before you could really enjoy being with him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him hesitantly moving his hand towards your lap; something he always did whenever you’d go on drives together. Most of the time, you’d swat his hand away even if you wanted nothing more than to intertwine your hands together. There were days where you allowed him to hold your hand or to even pull you in to his embrace, but for the most part you would always push him away the second you felt his touch.
Whenever you’d see him flush in embarrassment from the rejection, you felt a pain in your chest and you hated being so rash towards him. Especially because he treated you as if you were the most delicate flower. Sooner or later, you were going to have to give in to him before he finally gave up on this frustrating game of car and mouse. You had a huge feeling he was probably getting tired of how cold you would act towards him but not once did he complain or force you to do something you didn’t want to which was what you admired about him the most.
Unfortunately, for the last few days your mind has been all over the place. You couldn’t help but overthink that the longer you kept pushing Mark away and prevented things from blossoming between the two of you, that he would soon grow tired and find someone who was willing to treat him the way he deserved. Mark could get anybody he wanted; this you knew was true and you didn’t know why he settled for someone like you, but you weren’t going to continue to push him away. Tonight, you planned on allowing whatever it was going between you and Mark; a fling of some sorts turn in to whatever it is that he wanted for the two of you.
Since he didn’t seem like he was going to initiate anything, you reached over the console and pulled his hand on to your lap before intertwining your fingers together. Seeing his breath hit at your sudden movement made you smile softly to yourself. Was this man really going to be twenty-seven years old in a couple of months? Sometimes you’d forget how old Mark really was because of how childlike he’d act around you.
“Are you—is everything okay?” His question caused you to look at him in curiosity.
“I’m fine. Oh—are you not okay with this?” As you were about to pull your hand away, he tugged on it all but gently and brought yours hands up to his lips before placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Your heart rate began increasing as soon as you felt his lips on your skin; in the few moments that he’d kiss you, whether they were chaste kisses against your cheek or passionate, steamy make out sessions, any moment spent with his lips on any one of your body parts sent your body in flames.
“No no—I’m okay with this—more than okay. Trust me. I just—I’m not used to you initiating things like this. You’re always so quick to push me away, so it’s taking a little longer for me to get used to your clingy side—ow! When did you become so strong? Just wait till we park y/n, you’re going to regret that.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and squeezed his hands as you turned your attention back to the road. “Ooooh, I’m so scared.” His little giggle at your sarcasm made you blush. God, this man was going to be the death of you.
“Hey y/n do you—would it be okay if—ah, never mind.” When it was just the two of you, Mark would always be so shy and soft spoken sometimes. It wasn’t something you were used to, even after months of getting to know the real him. The Mark that nobody else got to see. To the world; his friends, your professors and fellow classmates, Mark was an extremely outgoing, talkative and an all-around guy. He had this aura about him; a kind of confidence that made people gravitate toward him.
He portrayed himself to be such a dominant and superior individual but when it was just the two of you, he could turn in to the biggest ball of fluff. Although he didn’t say it, he never had to. It was obvious that Mark was whipped for you, and you were hoping by the end of tonight you’d prove to him that you felt the same exact way.
“What is it?” Once he got to a stoplight, he turned and looked at you with an unidentifiable look on his face before shrugging indifferently. “Is it alright if I come over tonight? I kinda don’t want to let you go just yet.” You could tell it took him a lot of courage to ask you something he knew you’d probably say no to. Hearing that he wanted to spend more time with you sent warmth to your cheeks. How could you say no to him knowing that he wanted to stay with you just a little while longer? Especially because you had an idea of what was going to happen as soon as you both reached your place. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’m actually kinda tired. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Oh—uh—yeah, sure. That’s fine.” His nose sullen demeanor pulled at your heartstrings and you found yourself reaching over to humorously pinch his cheek.
“I’m fucking with you Mark. Of course you can come over. You can even stay the night if you’re too tired to drive home. I washed your clothes from the last few times.” He nodded in agreement and the small grin that was slowly growing on his face from the change in your tone caused you to mirror his expression. Just a couple of minutes later, he was pulling up to your apartment and ran over to your side to open the door for you. It was his actions that proved to you that he harbored romantic feelings for you and it always made you feel almost childlike.
You couldn’t explain the way Mark made you feel. But all you knew, was that nobody else has ever made you feel so important, so needed; wanted—loved and it scared you because you were sure nobody ever could. He helped you out of the passenger seat and grabbed at your hand; not giving you any time to process anything before pulling you towards the lobby.
Out of all the skin ship the two of you shared, holding hands with Mark had to be your favorite. He had such pretty fingers; they were so long and skinny and his hand practically swallowed your tiny ones whole. You always felt so safe with him and you could feel the confession of love for him at the tip of your tongue. When he saw you walking towards the elevators, he let out a snicker and you rolled your eyes; you knew exactly what he was laughing at from past experiences and you weren’t having it.
“What now Tuan?”
“Nothing—it’s nothing—you live on the second floor yet you always take the elevator. You are the definition of lazy—what the hell do you do in your free time? Bench press your television? Your biceps are getting bigger and your punches are harder—okay I’ll stop. I just thought it was cute but fine—be an asshole.”
The bickering stopped right as you reached your apartment and you made your way in with Mark trailing right behind you. He’s been over to your place a few times, so he knew where everything was and he even had a few of his things scattered throughout your apartment. A couple of his jackets were in your closet, he had a pair of shoes on the shoe rack and there was his shampoo and body wash in your shower. You knew he wouldn’t leave all his things over at your place if you were just someone he was messing around with.
“Thirsty?” He shook his head in disagreement before throwing himself on your couch and turning on the television. You on the other hand wanted to give yourself some time to prepare what you were going to tell him.
Mark, I love you. You mean a lot to me. I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time these last few months but thank you for not giving up on me—us these last few months. I’m ready now. I’m yours if you’ll have me.
You wanted to say it all, but you felt as if you were going to throw up just thinking about it. “Hurry up over there, I’m lonely.” You took in a deep breath before making your way back in to the living room.
It was now or never y/n, whatever happens, happens.
If he didn’t end up feeling the same way, then you could just kick him out and pretend as if none of this happened but deep down you knew there was no way you could ever forget this; forget him. There was no way. Mark was tattooed on your heart and etched in to parts of your soul that you were so scared of what would happen to you if he were to end your relationship. You took a seat at the end of the couch, giving yourself some space away from him but he wasn’t having it. He got up from his spot on the couch to reach out for you and pulled you on top of his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he placed his chin on top of your shoulder.
No matter how many times you’d find yourself in this position with him, you could never stop the blush that always seemed to grow on your cheeks at the close proximity.
“Mark.” He hummed in curiosity against your neck and waited for your response before saying anything. “Can I ask you something?” The nod against your cheek made you giggle; his stubble tickled as it rubbed against your recently shaved skin.
“What are we? Better yet, what am I to you. Like—what do I mean to you?” Feeling him pull away as soon as those words fell from your lips worried you. You knew it was too good to be true. There was no way Mark could ever look at you in the way that he wanted to. Tears were brimming at your eyelids and you were so upset with yourself from ruining things. Right as you were about to try and take back what you had just asked, you were being thrown on to the couch as he roughly brought his lips to yours. He brought his hands up to your face and cupped both of your cheeks; his mouth felt hot on yours as he molded your lips together perfectly.
His kisses never failed to send your body to flames and it felt as if electricity was running through your veins. Mark deepens the kiss; his lips were chapped but tasted like fried chicken and beer; a combination you were used to seeing how that was his favorite food and alcoholic beverage pairing. He licked and sucked on both your top and bottom lips before he brought your tongue in between his teeth. To your dismay, he pulled away to catch his breath and placed his forehead against yours while plopping himself on top of you.
“Mark, get off of me! You’re so heavy you ass—“
“You’ve never complained about being a bottom before—will you stop hitting me? Why aren’t you this physical in bed? Anyways, before you ruin the mood with your brash commentary, if it wasn’t already obvious, I have feelings for you and to sum it all up, I love you. I know why you’re afraid of love and I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, but you can trust me. I hope you know that and I hope you do or at least plan on learning how to. My feelings for you are sincere. I don’t know exactly when my little crush on you turned in to this beautiful thing called love, but I love the effect it has on me. I love the effect you have on me. You mean so much to me y/n and if you give me the chance, I’d love to be yours. I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
He brought his pinky out to yours and you looked up at him to make sure his expressions matched his words. You stole a kiss from the corner of his mouth and twisted your pinkies together.
“Okay. Let’s do this.” You tried to push him off of you but he gave you a knowing look and made it even harder for you to try and escape.
“Mark—“
“You didn’t tell me how you feel yet. You’re not going anywhere baby. I know you love me too, you just have to say it.” Hearing the term of endearment was going to take some getting used to, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like how it sounded coming from his pretty lips.
“Wow, cocky aren’t we? Bold of you to assume that I love you. Where’d you get that idea?”
“I don’t know if you are aware of this, but when you doze off sometimes you murmur things. Maybe it’s your conscience but I swear I heard you confessing what I’m assuming is your feelings for me, how thankful you are for me and how you’d love to be mine—“ you covered his mouth to prevent anything else from coming out and hid your face in the crook of his neck to prevent him from seeing how crazy he was driving you.
“Whatever! I love you! There? You happy? Oh, and I just—before I say anything this is going to be the only time I’m ever going to say sappy shit so listen closely. Thank you for not giving up on us. Thank you for being so patient with me and not running away no matter how much of a dick I was. You mean the world to me Mark and I really don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I hope that getting to love you every day is enough to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me in the last few months. You’re amazing, and I love you.” He grinned down at you and you could feel butterflies growing in your tummy the longer he looked at you with so much love and adoration.
“I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that. Now kiss me.”
You had a hold on me right from the start A grip so tight I couldn't tear it apart My nerves all jumpin', actin' like a fool Well, your kisses they burn, but my heart stays cool
Well, Romeo and Juliet Samson and Delilah Baby you can bet A love they couldn't deny My words say split But my words they lie 'Cause when we kiss, ooh Fire
Ooh fire Hot kisses like fire Burn me up with fire I like what you're doin' now, Fire Touchin' me with fire Touchin' me, burnin me with fire Take me home Fire Kisses like fire
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to fill with joy the warrior's heart
Steggy Week 2k20, day 7 Prompt: Free choice
Summary: Trust is earned, and sometimes must be re-earned. Nothing in life is as pure and simple as we might wish it to be.
AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents for organizing!
Peggy wakes Saturday morning with light steady at the window and in the first second realizes that Steve is not beside her and in the second remembers why.
“Moving day,” she says aloud, voice shaking sleep from itself, and opens her eyes.
Later, he will explain how he knew she would be there, will tell her about a different, older self he met, one who spoke of returning to the Stork Club even after she had moved from New York, one night a year spent sipping a drink alone and allowing herself the full imagining of what might have been.
But when she comes across him sitting on the steps of the brownstone Howard has loaned to her for the weekend, she doesn’t know any of that. When he looks up as he hears her footsteps on the sidewalk, when the streetlight falls on the shape of his jaw and nose and brow and the familiarity blooms hot and instant within her, all she knows is her feet pulling her forward even as her mind can’t grasp it, even as she cuts off her own gasp and sob. All she knows is her arms around him, his around her, the frantic scramble for logic, the somewhere knowledge that if this is real she’ll hang logic and do it happily.
She takes him upstairs, conscious of the pistol in her garter holster even as she can’t bring herself to relinquish his hand. Nevertheless, she manages long enough to prepare and pour tea for the two of them, manages as she sits across from him and asks quiet questions to which he gives equally quiet answers. (As familiar as he is, there’s so much worn to him now.)
“You might as well interrogate me the way you really want to,” he finally says when he’s corrected yet another small mistaken detail she’s dropped into the recounting of some part of their history. There’s just a bit of cheek to his tone, and it is that, something so tiny and personal and inimitable and him, something she truly believed she would never hear again, which makes her trust that it is truly him back with her again.
They fall asleep on the settees opposite each other. She wakes with her arm dangling; it is vaguely numb, but still reaching toward where he lies sleeping, solid and restless and here.
She is meant to return to Washington in the afternoon and he joins her. The ride is comfortable. They take turns at the wheel (Steve apparently drives now, and fairly well, too), point out landmarks along the route, fall occasionally into deep discussion, sample from each other’s plates in roadside diners, sit in easy silence with the scenery rushing past. Somehow, there’s a feeling of routine to it. They didn’t precisely spend the war gallivanting in cars together, but she has never been able to forget those snatched moments of synchronicity between the two of them: talking late at night once the others had gone to sleep, or during a brief mutual leave in London, what was meant to be greetings between them in the hallway spooling out into a conversation that had them blocking the door at headquarters for a half hour. Sometimes she still goes to sleep to the rhythm of their matched footsteps on patrol during an assignment.
That could be her life from now on, she realizes, the thought rocking into her. That synchronicity, this man, for as long as they were able.
How long will that be? she wonders. How long, this time?
Her hands shake on the wheel and she forces them to stop, forces herself to breathe. But the idea won’t go away.
He had come back to her, he wasn’t leaving, he’d told her that, and Steve’s word is good, Steve is good, she knows that like the fact of her own life. And she also knows that the control, the choices we think or wish we had, that we want to have, can slip from us so easily.
As they enter the city, she asks, eyes forward, “Can I help you find someplace to stay?”
Even without looking, she can imagine the surprised furrow of his eyebrows, can hear the shift in his posture against the seat: so slight, and so clear to her. She doesn’t fault him for assuming that he would be staying with her, after having felt her grip on his arm, having fallen asleep to her voice and sat with her all this while as she returned to the place she is making her home.
She hopes he doesn’t fault her for not being able to let him.
He finds a place in a building several streets over from hers, easily walkable. They eat at the same halfway point diner in the morning. Sometimes they share sections of the Post, sitting and reading silently, pointing out articles of interest, debating politics and trends and culture. Sometimes they tease each other across the table: “Ah, look, they’re bringing the cow in the back, they must have known you wanted a bit of steak and eggs this morning” and “Better give that left curl a stern talking-to, it’s not looking as quite as perfect as the rest.” They don’t part with a kiss, but sometimes they stand so long chatting on the sidewalk outside that people detour around them with exaggerated annoyance.
Talk about work, about their lives, is usually saved for evenings or weekends spent together. They are neither of them particularly good at cooking, but are both perfectly satisfied with sandwiches or restaurant food. They can each muddle through a few simple dishes anyway, and, regardless of whether or not their muddling improves along the way, it’s certainly more enjoyable to prepare things together.
Her kitchen is larger (though no one would call it spacious) but he actually remembered to purchase things like a pot and extra forks, so they split time between the two. Over jacket potatoes served with butter and leftover bits from Peggy’s fridge, she lets out the frustrations that she hides during the day behind cool smiles and sharp retorts, lets out the anger at the men who don’t have any of her experience or skill and yet imagine themselves equal to her. She had forgotten how it felt to allow these words into the safekeeping of one who had never thought such things and never would. She had forgotten the ease, the openness between them that included him revealing his own fear and pain and longing. The night that they sit across from each other at the secondhand card table he’d found and he tells her with such detail about the friends she will not meet for decades if ever, she stretches a hand across to him, holding tightly to his fingers.
When they spend the night together, it’s almost always in her bedroom. Her clothes are there, her hairbrush and lipstick and powder, her soap, toothbrush, indulgently soft sheets; she doesn’t need to pack a bag so she can sleep comfortably and armor herself with perfection for work the next day. Regardless of disapproving stares from neighbors when she and Steve walk out together in the morning, she doesn’t need to worry that she has missed an important call in the night.
So she allows him inside her home and wonders if any of this is wise, whether she might have to buy new sheets, a new bedframe even, if his scent will haunt the place, the remembered sight of him sitting at the table, of the contents of his pockets - loose change and crumpled notes to himself, that same compass, come all this way - on her nightstand, whether she will really ever be at home here again if he persists in becoming so much here and then she is left alone once more.
She can’t help herself. They had been slow and polite and careful last time and she was still left with a heart broken at the thought of what might have been; she’ll take better advantage this time, as much as she can, as long as it lasts.
Six months, she tells herself. Six months, and it will feel safe to let him in completely, to begin discussing a future.
But six months comes and goes, and it doesn’t feel safe, it seems only more dangerous to let him further. Even the small amount she has allowed of time spent and secrets shared seems too much. During a dull meeting one day her mind wanders to the idea of going to City Hall with Steve beside her, of standing up with him in front of a church, and she holds herself distant from him that night and cannot tell him why. He is late one evening for reasons which are perfectly sensible when explained and she tries to avoid cataloging all the small details of him over the next days - holding these crystallized memories in her mind will only hurt later.
She is no coward, she does not need assurances on that score. She's been asked to face battlefields and killers and destruction, to put herself in the way of it all, to take charge, to defend and strike back, and she has done it - she has chosen to do it - without pause.
But even brave people, she tells herself, must be sensible. Even brave people do not simply allow themselves to jump from cliffs with no guarantee of being caught on the way down.
He does not push her, does not even mention time-frames or any expectations he might have had when he came back. The only time he brings it up is in the night, those times she shakes herself from sleep with a gasp or a doubled-over cry. His hand will rest on her back or shoulder, will stroke over her bare stomach, the pressure of those long fingers well-remembered despite herself, and his voice will come, solid in the dark: “I’m sorry I was so late. I’m here now.”
And all she can think is how easily “now” can become “for now.”
They have an argument.
It starts out as simple conversation. She tells him that she is planning for a busy next few days, her time taken up first with meetings and then with fieldwork. He reminds her once again that she has a whole agency that’s meant to take care of fieldwork for her these days. It’s a running joke between them by now; he doesn’t even look up from whatever intricate little sketch he is working on. But, somehow, today it does not feel comfortably amusing. Just now, having Steve sitting at her kitchen table, referencing some new thing shared between the two of them, using a pencil borrowed without thought or permission from one of her drawers, seems constricting, dangerous.
“If I thought someone else would be able to take care of things for me, I would be perfectly capable of telling them so,” she snaps, watching his head come up in surprise.
“Of course you would be,” he says, and then, as if he can’t resist pointing it out, “but it’s pretty rare for you to actually do it.”
“Ah, so the only trouble with having things done successfully is asking people.” She pushes up from the table, paces back to grip onto the kitchen counter. “Unbelievable that I hadn’t simply thought of it earlier. How kind of you to inform me.”
“I’m only saying—”
“Of course you are! After all, we both know how well you delegate, how often you’ve been willing to put others in danger in your place.”
His back is very straight now. “Whether or not that’s true for me, you barely trust any of the people you have over at SHIELD. You don’t trust them to do things right or to work with you or support you, so I don’t know why you hired them in the first place.” He crosses his arms, mouth tight. “When I chose to work with people, it was because I knew I could rely on them.”
The laugh she gives is a single, dagger-tipped note. “How wonderful that must be for you, to have such luxury. I’m meant to protect the world and everyone in it while surrounded by people whose integrity I can’t always count on, much less their respect.”
“So find people you can trust! Hell, I’ve told you I’d step in if you need it - you can’t keep doing everything yourself, Peggy.”
His jaw is clenched, jutting in that stubbornly recognizable way of his, but for once she has no desire to laugh with him over it, to tease him from his tension with kisses or sly remarks. Her jaw clenches in response instead, words coming out tight as her crossed arms.
“Consider, perhaps, that I don't have confidence in the idea of you stepping in. You were gone for years, Steve, and I accepted it. I cannot simply accept that you’re back to stay, that you won’t sacrifice yourself again if you thought it would serve the greater good. I can’t rely on things going right, I can’t rely on you not finding yourself in such a position, and it haunts me, the idea that I might spend my life waiting for the next thing that will take you away from me. So I wouldn’t be so eager to consider yourself someone I can trust. ”
The pencil lies blankly between his stricken fingers. “If you don’t trust me,” he says, “maybe I’d better go.”
He doesn’t slam the door behind him, but it feels as if he has.
Alone in her bed, she realizes that she was right to worry: even though she has so carefully guarded against having Steve with her every night, the bed feels unfamiliar without his weight beside her, his soft breathing or sleepy comments in the dark, the simple smell of his soap. It hurts not to feel his touch, easy against her even in sleep, to think that she might never feel it again.
She gets up at half past two and puts a jacket on over her pajamas. The streets outside her window are silent except for a slight breeze and the light patter of drizzle. She shuts and locks her door quietly, turns to start the walk to Steve’s, and finds him sitting in the hallway.
He is leaning against the wall, chin fallen onto his chest. Hearing the click of her lock, the scuff of her shoes, he looks up to where she stands cat-still in front of her door, keys still in her fist. She cannot see the golden glint of stubble on his cheeks, but she knows she would feel it against her palm if she touched him.
“I wasn’t okay when I came back,” he says quietly, eyes on hers. He swallows. “And even though you’d already told me some about the way things had been for you, I should never have assumed that I knew everything. I should have checked whether you were okay. I know better than to think that just because someone's strong they can't hurt.”
She steps across to him, slides down so that she is at his side, arm against arm.
“Have you been sitting here the entire time?” she asks.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Roberson didn’t look really impressed, but I don’t like being away from you. I’ve already learned that lesson pretty well.”
“And in the most difficult way.” When she leans against his shoulder, her head fits just perfectly. The blue cotton of his shirt smells faintly of laundry soap, but mostly like a long and difficult day.
"I do trust you," she says, close to the fabric, her words coming carefully. "I know that you are a good man, and that you were forced into a terrible situation, a terrible choice. I don't want you to think otherwise."
"But—"
She overrides his voice. "And still, the world we live in is full of terrible choices, terrible situations. We live them perhaps more than most. And the thought of—" She breathes, starts over again, makes her words simpler. "Losing you once already hurt so very much."
He doesn't try to shove back against her words or feelings or reasoning, does not offer placation or gentle lies. He puts his arm around her.
"I wouldn't regret coming back," he says against her hair, "if you didn't think you could live with the uncertainty. I had to try, and I—I would still be here, in your life, if you wanted me."
"Actually," she says, looking at the wall in front of them. She's noticed the unavoidable paisley wallpaper before, but not the way it curls up from the baseboard. "I think you should come live with me."
She can feel him startle, shift to look down at her. She takes her time meeting his eyes.
"I don't even have a spare key to your place yet," he points out, confused.
"I remember."
"And we just—You just said—"
"Yes, I remember that too," she says, amused despite herself at his polite flapping about. "I was there."
"Then why—?"
"Because I will always want you with me," she says simply. "We circled around each other the first time even though I knew I wanted you with me. You went away from me and I wanted you back. And then you returned, and no matter how I tried to avoid it, I wanted you with me anyway. I want you with me always. And although it cannot happen, regardless of how careful we might be or what luck we might have, I must know better by now than to think I can simply pretend that I can turn away from you. I should know better than to try."
Through long minutes, he doesn't say anything, his heat and even breaths nevertheless soothing beside her. Finally she asks, "Well?"
"Okay." He lets the word float there, then adds, "But if anyone asks, I'm telling them that you asked more romantically than that."
It's ten days until the first of the month. Steve doesn't need nearly that long to pack his things.
Peggy arrives promptly at eight. Steve’s already been over to Stein’s Grocery and gotten the delivery van. Between the two of them, they haul the boxes and a limited amount of furniture, first down from Steve's building, then up into Peggy's.
Everything is moved in by noon, the truck returned, and the sun splashes joy over the pile of boxes in the doorway, the light dwindling as things find their new homes: his small supply of records sliding in with hers, art books, science fiction, and novels amongst the mysteries and classics and occasional paperback romances on her bookcase, clothes in the places she has made in the bureau and wardrobe. She knows that his paints and drawing paper, his pastels, will eventually escape or will be put away messily, but for now they lie neatly stacked in their assigned place on the shelf. His sheets and pillowcases go into the linen cupboard, spares now for their shared bed.
They keep her radio, but trade her secondhand turntable for his - also secondhand, but slightly better quality (Steve still knows how to hunt down a bargain). The armchair that they can both fit into if they curl together just right finds its place in the lounge area; it doesn’t match her sofa in the slightest, but they don’t care.
There isn’t much wall space, but they’re able to find places for a piece of artwork or two. She hammers the nails, he makes sure the frames hang straight. A print of his parents' wedding photo, pictures of him and Bucky, of the Barnes family, join her limited collection of photographs. They both have the same one of them alongside Commandos; for some reason, they tuck his copy behind hers in the frame.
His silverware easily replaces her minimal set. There’s a bit of a bicker over which dishes to keep - he has more settings and complete ones too, she has the deeper bowls and larger plates - but they decide on both for now; they’ll shop around for something together. The single pot and frying pan he brought make the cut easily, as she still doesn’t have any of her own.
(“Considering all the time we just spent organizing the kitchen, one would think we might actually intend to use it.”
“It’s probably a good thing for everyone that we don’t. Do you want me to go pick up from Luigi’s or Good Earth?”
“Neither - Chin’s is better than Good Earth, and they'll deliver here. But whatever number of egg rolls you’re intending to order, double it. You always eat far more than your share.”)
Late and later, with the moon high out the window, they get ready for bed. She stares as he adds his clothes carefully to the laundry hamper, piling them atop hers. She wonders how long it will be before he begins tossing them in less attentively, allowing shirts to drape comfortably over the sides or even drop onto the floor.
There is his toothbrush and his soap beside hers, his razor. His clothes hang in the closet. Anyone who needs to reach him from now on will know to call here.
They climb into bed. Our bed, she thinks, startled by it, until he brings her close and whispers, “Your sheets really are better than mine.”
“It doesn’t do to doubt me,” she reminds him. He laughs. After a time, she adds, “It went well, I think, moving day.”
“It did.”
His familiar weight is beside her, the smell of work washed off and replaced with soap and clean skin. He will be there as long as he can be, and she knows he will try to make that a very long time.
“Let’s not move again for a good while yet,” she says. “I can’t bear the thought of having to do double the packing and then unpacking it all again somewhere new.”
One day, they’ll move somewhere larger, a house where they can host friends and have a back garden to relax in, where they might be able to raise a child or two. But for now...For now…
“Yeah,” he says, sleepy in a way that she usually doesn’t hear him. His arms are heavy and secure around her. He is no longer keeping himself at the ready; he no longer has to. “Right here. We’ll stay right here.”
#steggyweek20#Steggy#Steggy fic#Peggy Carter#Steve Rogers#(I'm kinda obsessed with how fitting this title is ngl)
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The Viking King and the Pancakes (Ivar x reader)
A/N: Modern AU but not exactly Modern!Ivar, you’ll see.
This is not the second part of Pancakes in Bed again? But if you haven't read it, it would be better to read it first. Here
Thanks to @inforapound, without whom I couldn’t do anything 💖 And thanks to @ivaraddict for this precious gif 💖
Summary: the reader wakes up and finds out that she is not alone in bed. When she realizes who is lying next to her, the shock is even greater.
Warnings: None besides my wacky ideas ; shaggy dog story. Ah yes, swearings too.
Words: 2136
Lazily opening your eyes, you startle when the sound of snoring wakes you completely.
Snoring?? How could this be?? You have been sleeping alone for… for… weeks? Months? So long that you actually aren’t sure… It could even be years…
Immediately you are wide awake and screaming as you realize that a man is lying next to you. In your bed! Under your sheets! A wave of panic hits you. What did you do last night? Had you been drinking? Eating mushrooms?
Where did he come from? How did he get there? And more importantly, who is he?? And… did you have…? Oh, no, no, no, no! Looking under the sheets, you see that you are still wearing your pajamas. Phew!!
Releasing a loud sigh of relief, you hear the stranger growl as he shifts in the bed. Looking at him carefully, you are frightened – there's a man you don't know anything about in your bed! – and also fascinated – from what you can see, his muscles are… impressive…
It's highly inappropriate, but you are drooling.
Move a little more so I can see your face, you urge him silently.
It worked! Rolling onto his side, the man slowly faces you and…
FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!
"By the gods, who are you?"
From his thick accent you know he's not fluent in English. But you still understand. Which is good, as your knowledge of Old Norse is limited to "Du kan ikke drepe meg!" Although, thinking about it, telling him he can't kill you might not be totally stupid.
"I..I.." You pathetically babble. Fuck. Fuck! You must be dreaming, right? You pinch your arm, bite the inside of your cheek and end up slapping yourself in front of a dumbfounded Iv… No! It can't be him! It can? Noooo! Fuck, even after five slaps, he's still there.
"I'm Y/N," you finally say and are rewarded with a puzzled look.
"Strange name."
A man of few words, no doubt about it. Rolling your eyes, you sigh. Maybe you like it better when he doesn't say anything.
"And you?" Your question is somehow rhetorical as you already know who he is. But you need to hear it, clearly, from him.
"Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Aslaug Sigurdsdottir, king of Kattegat and leader of the great heathen army."
It sounds like he's reciting his service record.
Wow, wow, wow! The guy is slightly showing off, isn't he? You'd like to put him down and hesitate to remind him that unless you're mistaken, Bjorn overthrew him and he's not really king anymore. But it doesn't seem particularly wise, so you choose to keep quiet.
Not him.
"Are you my new slave? A gift from Ubbe, my silly brother, as a sign of his repentance and total allegiance?"
A slave??? You are in my fucking house, man!! And in my bed!!!
Six months later
You hurry up, eager to get home, looking forward to finding your man, Ivar the Boneless; the ruthless king. The bloodthirsty, fierce, cruel Viking. Your lover. Your Ivar.
Pushing back the door with your foot, you hastily lock it behind.
"Ivar?"
Not getting an answer, you put down your bag and take off your shoes before walking through the apartment. Putting your phone on the kitchen table, you inhale deeply, enjoying the delicious smell of a lamb stew that has certainly been simmering for hours.
Eventually, you find your great warrior asleep on the couch, the old wheelchair you unearthed in a second-hand shop right next to him. Smiling, you take your time, admiring his features. His facial structure, so perfect. He's astonishing, breathtaking. Painfully handsome.
He belongs perfectly in your living room and simultaneously seems completely out of place. You can't help but smile seeing the contrast of his hairstyle – "Never without my braids, woman!" – and his outfit, sweatpants and white T-shirt.
"Hi, my love!" Blinking, he almost purrs as you kiss his forehead.
Using his powerful arms to draw you close, he flashes you a broad grin as you carefully straddle him. With modern drugs working wonders, you taught him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten and he's rarely over two. Yet, you haven't found a way to prevent him from breaking a bone at the drop of a hat.
"My queen!"
Your laughter fills the room. No matter how much you tell him you are not the queen of anything, he seems hell-bent on it so you let him, amused and surely flattered to be loved by a real king.
"Dinner is almost ready." You shiver as he kisses your temple, your cheek and eventually your neck. "And then…,” his voice is suddenly hoarse, "… you and I will make love."
Six months earlier
"Tell me again??"
The frightening Viking glares at you, threateningly, driving your heart rate crazy. Fortunately, you confirmed he came unarmed in your bed and then you took care, before inviting him to sit at the kitchen table, to lock up all the knives and sharp or pointed tools.
"I say…,” ashamed, you know you're blushing, "… that I have called the gods, yours as well as the Christian god."
"And for what purpose?" His piercing blue eyes are scanning you, his features harsh.
"I….” Your voice is shaky. "I have already told you."
Before you realize what's going on, his hand is on your throat, and he's squeezing. The little bastard!
"I said," he roars, "For. What. Purpose?"
Freaking out, it's hard for you to breathe and you can hardly speak, your face red, your eyes bulging and begging him for air.
His eyes demanding an answer, he barely releases his grip. You're sure he won't hesitate to strangle you if you don't say anything.
"I have… I begged the gods because I wanted… I wanted you in… my bed… Well, not you…" Suddenly your words are rushing out. "I wanted the other Ivar, the Ivar of the TV show, this TV show that you don't know but in which you play the lead role. And yes, I'm aware that you don't know what a TV show is, I'll explain later, but that's it, it's you I wanted, that's why I called the gods and I don't know why but apparently it seems they heard me."
Ivar's hand doesn't move but he doesn't squeeze anymore, allowing you to breathe freely. You can see a slight change in his eyes, and his face softens.
"You… You wanted me in your bed? …..Why?"
Suddenly, there's no longer a frightening warrior in front of you but the terrified little boy from the eleventh episode of season four. His huge, wide eyes screaming all his insecurities. You are dying to tell him that Margrethe is nothing more than a stupid girl who did everything wrong. After all, you'd only be telling the truth!
But because he's unpredictable and because you don't know him well, you choose to say something more simple. "Because you are extremely attractive.”
Pleased by your words, he puffs his chest, flashing you a cocky grin. "And what did you want to do in bed with me?"
His rapid mood swings are fascinating, even more impressive in real life than on TV. Weighing the pros and cons, you eventually decide to be honest. "I wanted to have sex with you.”
Six months later
"I'll take care of everything, just go chill."
Nodding gratefully, you watch Ivar, who's setting the table while stirring the stew and keeping an eye on the cooking pasta. Smiling, you can't help but assess the progress made.
In six months, Ivar had become a perfect househusband.
Neither you nor he were able to explain by what miracle, sorry, by what magic, the word miracle made your proud pagan throw up, had him get there. But you didn't complain.
Neither did he – he who confessed that the last thing he remembered was fleeing Kattegat, alone, abandoned by all, hiding in the back of a stinking cattle cart.
Of course, you had to teach him everything and at first, it hadn't been easy. But he quickly got his bearings, at least in your apartment. Outside was harder. He was afraid of everything. Too much noise, too many colors, too many stimuli all the time.
That's why he spent most of his time inside. Running errands was terribly worrisome for him. Eating out too. At most, you forced him to go out sometimes late at night to get fresh air, and three weeks ago you managed to take him to the mountains. He loved it.
On a daily basis, you two didn't get out much, but you didn't mind. In your home, your cocoon, you were able to forget more and more that Ivar was more than a thousand years old. Forget that he was a character from history books as well as one of your favorite TV show. And the fucking fictive guy you've been fantasizing about for months!
He had adapted quickly enough to modern technologies, had discovered running water with delight and had been fascinated, almost mesmerized, by the Internet. It was so he could use it, he asked you to teach him how to read.
Learning in record time, you realized that the show had some truth: Ivar was certainly a brilliant and intelligent person.
Since he could read, he'd devoured every book he could find. He read all your books, even burning one that described the point of view of a Saxon monk during the Lindisfarne raid. The best thing about this interest was that he was always looking for new recipes on the web. "Helga would have been crazy with such a tool!", he told you after explaining that it was Floki's wife who had secretly taught him how to cook.
"Take your seat, my queen.”
Wheeling towards you, Ivar hands you a glass of wine. "For you." You thank him and then you both raise your glasses before clinking them. "Enjoy your meal!"
Bringing your fork to your mouth – Ivar, your stubborn Viking, still eats everything with a spoon – your eyes shoot wide as you let the flavors spread through your mouth. Once again, his meal is excellent, a true feast for the palate.
"Ivar!" Talking with a full mouth, you're slightly ashamed but know he won't hold it against you. "It's simply a pure wonder! Exquisite and perfect!"
Smiling proudly, your Viking king is sincerely happy. He doesn't need much. What he told to that bitch Freydis was the truth: all he wanted was to be loved. And in truth, he doesn't care about being king. For the first time in his life, he can be himself. With you. And that's enough for him.
"I'm glad you like it." Waving his spoon in front of you, he furrows his brows. "Are you working tomorrow?"
You can't hide the small smile curling the corner of your mouth up. Ivar still has trouble with some concepts. "No, my love, tomorrow is Sunday. I never work on Sundays." Seeing that his face lights up, you know he has an idea in mind. "Why?"
"Nothing… I was just thinking… I could try to prepare… pancakes. And we could eat them in bed."
You are sure you've never mentioned pancakes and wonder when he heard about them. But whatever, you're in. "That's a great idea! I'm sure you'll do well."
Now, Ivar's biting his lower lip suggestively and you wonder what he’s up to.
Putting his spoon on the edge of his plate, he wheels towards you. "I'll prepare toast, eggs, and bacon too."
You can't help but feel aroused by his hoarse voice, even if it's ridiculous. Who would have thought that breakfast could be a turn on?
Wait. Wait. Fucking wait. Pancakes. Toast. Eggs. Bacon. Seriously???
"Why?!" You startle, slightly distressed. "I mean, what are you talking about? Why are you talking about that? Why do… Why do you want to eat that tomorrow? I mean, exactly that?" You know you're pathetic, but Ivar only smiles at you lovingly.
"Because I want to.” Stroking your breast, he leans forward and his mouth meet yours, giving you shivers. "And once I've eaten all this…,” backing up just enough to look you in the eye, his hand brushes your crotch, making you shutter, "… I'll enjoy my dessert."
Standing, you take a few steps back, panic setting in while you try to put the puzzle together. Your heartbeat becomes frantic when you eventually understand what it means. What he means.
"Ivar… You…?" Blushing, a lump forms in your throat, you can’t speak anymore.
Nodding at you, again and again, a broad smile on his face and his gaze almost naughty, he’s obviously having fun. Fucking pompous asshole!
"Yes, my queen. I found your Tumblr blog. And I read your fanfictions."
OH!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!
🛡⚔️🛡
@waiting4inspiration @saldelys @lisinfleur @honestsycrets @gearhead66
#vikings#vikings imagine#ivar#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar vikings#ivar imagine#ivar x reader#modern au
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Protect Me, My Aurora
Pairing: Reader x Hongjoong
Word count: 2.3k
Genre: Angst, light angst, kinda fluff but not really
Summary: Hongjoong struggles to move on without you
Warning: Mentions of loss, grief, death
A/n: I cried writing this, edited it and cried more. Then I listened to Aurora and I cried again. I basically cried the entire time. Also bold = flashback.
He had spent so long trying to recover but it just wasn’t going to happen. Every night he thought about you, every night he wished you were by his side, every second that passed he wished he could spend it with you. Days passed, then weeks, then months, then a year. He had spent a year trying to forget you desperately. His mind would go blank when he saw something that reminded him of you, his heart would ache when he would think of you, his soul yearning for you whenever he remembered how it ended.
He never imagined what his life would be like if you left, but now he had to face the pain with every passing moment. He missed your touch, your voice, your warmth; he missed you. But how was he supposed to get you back to him? He wondered every day what it would be like if you hadn't left. All he could do was replay the memories you shared together since that was what was left.
"Hongjoong-ah." You walked into the toilet in one of his sweaters that was too big for you. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he brushed his teeth. "Good morning." You sighed, pressing your cheek to his bare back. He washed his mouth and placed his toothbrush in the cup before turning to you,
"Good morning, (Y/n)." He smiled as he hugged you back, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "How are you feeling, jagiya?" He asked as he pulled away, inspecting the cut on your nose. You smiled as you moved your head away,
"I'm better now that you're here." You giggled. "You are my medicine." You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his nose, "You make me feel better. My aurora."
He was broken as he sat in his bedroom, forcing himself not to look through the old photos you shared together. He sat on the messy covers, his knees to his chest as he stared at the drawer of his dresser that held a box containing all that he had left of you. The sweater you would always wear sitting on his lap as he took in your scent. He needed to move on but he couldn't.
"Joongie-ah, which one is nicer?" You walked out of the bedroom in your robe, holding up two dresses. He looked at the navy blue one, then at the white one,
"You're still gonna look beautiful in whichever." He shrugged but it wasn't the answer you were looking for.
"Joong, I'm serious!" You pouted at him. You wanted to look nice since you were attending an awards show with Hongjoong, an awards show where ATEEZ were nominated and you were sure they were going to win.
"The navy blue one is lovely, Jagiya."
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a notebook. He flipped through the pages, stopping at one of the songs he had written. Aurora. He remembered how excited you were when you first heard it. Despite writing it for ATINY, he knew he wrote it for you as well. He was struggling before he met you. Being the only trainee at KQ was hard enough, he had the pressure of leading his group members. When he accidentally bumped into you at a cafe, spilling coffee all over you he wondered now whether it was fate that brought you two together. You pulled him out of the darkness and surrounded him with light, keeping him safe from all his bad thoughts.
“Shit!” He frantically tried to catch the falling cup but it was too late. Your crop top was covered in iced coffee, goosebumps forming on your skin from how cold it was. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He quickly grabbed tissues and handed them to you.
“I-It’s okay. Today’s not my day.” You let out a small laugh as you started to dab the coffee off of your white shirt. He was looking at his phone when he turned around, unaware of your presence right behind him and he ended up bumping right into you, spilling your coffee all over you.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you a new drink.” He quickly turned around before you could say anything and you just let him.
“An iced mocha.” You spoke out at him, loudly enough that he would hear you and he nodded, heading straight to the cashier.
His mind was suddenly being overwhelmed with all the times you spent together as he read through the messy, scribbled lyrics of Aurora in his notebook. His tears were dripping onto the page and onto the writing.
“Joongie-ah, this is so nice! How did you come up with it?” You asked, your face showing pure awe and admiration as you listened to the new song he had come up with.
“We were performing one day and I looked at the crowd. It looked like they had some kind of aurora surrounding them.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you into him, “I also thought about you a lot while I was writing this song. You make me really happy, jagiya.” Your face was quick to blush, not knowing how to react.
“You think of me as an aurora?” You asked.
“I think of you as something that brought light to my darkness. Your light protects me from all my negative thoughts.” He smiled, bumping his nose to yours, “You protect me. You feel like an aurora.”
His hand was running along the page before he couldn’t take it anymore. He shut the book and placed it on the bed, his head in his hands as he sobbed. It was too much. There was a hole in his chest and no one but you could fill it. His spark was being put out without you with him. He was losing himself without you.
“(Y/n)? Jagiya?” He stepped into your shared apartment to see you wrapped in multiple blankets a mug of tea in your hands.
“Joongie-ah!” You called and he quickly stepped out of his shoes and towards you. “It’s scary.” You pouted and pointed to the TV, showing a horror movie playing. He chuckled at you,
“Why didn’t you wait for me to come home first?” He sat himself beside you and you immediately scrambled out of the blankets to cling onto him.
“I thought I could prove to you that I don’t scare ea-” You cut yourself off with a scream when a jumpscare popped up and buried your face in his chest.
“You definitely proved yourself, (Y/n).” He laughed as he held you.
He got up from his bed and grabbed his car keys, not sure of where he was going but he needed to get out of the apartment. He wiped his tears away, glad that none of his neighbours were in the lift with him. He quickly walked out of the lift and into his car, igniting the engine and driving out of the parking lot without hesitation. He was still unsure of where he was going as he cried, struggling to see through his tears as he drove.
“Joongie, be careful.” You whined as he pretended to swerve the car playfully, making you squeal. “Im serious!” You slapped his arm lightly as he laughed.
“I’m always careful when you’re here, (Y/n).” He poked his tongue out at you, giving you his free hand to hold while he drove. “I’ll stop now, okay?”
“Promise?” You held out your pinkie at him when he reached a traffic light.
“I promise, my aurora.” He wrapped his pinkie around yours with a smile on his face.
The car stopped at the side of the road, his head dropping to the steering wheel as he cried. He stepped out of the car and dragged his legs across the grass and up the hill. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and fell to his knees in the grass. He looked up at the night sky, trying to stop his tears. He looked around the familiar spot, more memories flooding him
“Keep your eyes closed, jagiya.” He smiled as he guided you up the hill.
“You’re responsible if I trip, Joongie.” You said as you kept your eyes closed, making a chuckle leave his lips as he stopped. He moved your hands off of your face to reveal a picnic mat neatly laid over the grass with plates and a pair of wine glasses. “Joongie,” You gasped at the sight.
“Happy anniversary, (Y/n).” He sat you down, pulling out a wine bottle from the picnic basket, filling up the glass. He handed you one of the glasses and raised his own, clinking them together. “These two years have been amazing. I’m so glad that I bumped into you that day.”
“I am too.” You smiled as you sipped on the wine.
He looked at the ground after he realised where he was; this was not where he wanted to be. He pulled himself off of the ground and stumbled into the car, starting the ignition and stepping on the pedal. He drove once again, his car halting in front of the cafe. His heart stopped, his breathing halted and he stared at the doors of the closed cafe. He remembers your meeting so well. All the dates that happened in this cafe, all of the surprise parties that happened at this cafe. But he knew this was not the right place. He stepped on the pedal, his mind still trying to figure out where his heart was taking him.
His car halted for the last time that night and he looked at the sight of the location in front of him. He turned off his car and climbed out, walking into the place his heart wanted to be in. As he walked closer, it played in his head.
“(Y/n)-ah?” He called for you when he stepped into the apartment. He pulled his phone out of the pocket at the sound of the ring and answered it without looking at the caller I.D.
“Hyung,” Jongho’s voice ran through the speaker, “You need to come down here now.” He didn’t even listen to the rest of the what his younger member had to say and he was bolting to his car. He had never driven so fast before. He barely had enough sense to park his car properly as he barged into the building, pushing past all the people inside he found Jongho and Seonghwa sitting at the benches with their heads in their hands.
“Where is she?” Hongjoong asked them. Both of their heads lifted up at the sound of his voice,
“She’s in there. We can’t go in but we can look through the window.” Seonghwa stood up and brought Hongjoong to the window looking into the Intensive Care Unit that you were lying in. He felt his heart break at the sight of you on the other side, multiple tubes stuck into your mouth as the doctors were desperately trying to keep you alive.
“No,” Hongjoong whimpered out, helpless as all he could do was watch. He didn’t move away from the window for the next four hours until the doctor came out, his legs were aching from standing but he didn’t care.
“She’s awake. You can come in and see her if you like.” He opened the door to the ICU and Hongjoong ran inside.
“(Y/n), jagiya,” He practically fell to the side of the bed as he took your hand in his. Your head slowly turned to him,
“Joongie,” You whispered, your voice unable to get any louder with the tube that was pumping oxygen into your lungs stuck down your throat.
“Jagiya, what happened?” He asked, standing up and brushing your messy hair. Your head instinctively leaned into his touch as a tear ran down your face.
“Joongie,” Your hand shakily brought him closer to you. “Hongjoongie, I’m always going to protect you, okay?” You whispered into his ear. He pulled away and stared at you in disbelief, already knowing what was happening.
“(Y/n), please, just hold on a little longer. Please. Jagiya, don’t let go just yet.” His tears were streaming onto your hand as he shakily pressed your hand to his lips.
“I promise I will never let anything happen to you. Like you said, I’m your aurora.” You were crying yourself, the tears difficult to stop. “I love you so much, Kim Hongjoong. I’m sorry, but I have to leave now.” Hongjoong brought himself up, pressing one last kiss to your lips and pressing his forehead to yours as you drew your last breath. He shakily brought your knuckles to his lips once again, kissing your hand repeatedly as he held on to whatever of you he could.
“My aurora,” He sobbed into your hand, “My aurora.”
He fell to his knees on the ground, staring at your grave. Your name was engraved in the tombstone, the years you were alive written right under. He placed his hand on the tombstone, his heart finally being where it wanted to be. His hand shakily ran over the engravings, his lips parting but unable to form words as they trembled. His tears were watering the soil, his head hanging low as he cried.
“Jagiya, it’s been a whole year.” He managed to make out, “I still miss you. Everyday I miss you more and everyday I wish I could’ve been there earlier to save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you when all you did was protect me.” His words were choked, his throat was hoarse from the crying and his face was swollen. His couldn’t stop the tears even if he actually tried. “My life feels like nothing without you, everyday I wonder about what it would be like if you were still here.” His hands moved to gently touch the wilting flowers that laid right atop your grave. “But I know you’re still here when you can be. I can feel your presence. Your aurora. I can only ask so much from you and you promised me.” He pulled his knees to his chest, lowering his head,
“The one last thing that I ask of you. The only thing that I will forever ask of you,”
Protect me, my Aurora.
나를 감싸줘, my Aurora
#ateez#ateez hongjoong#kim hongjoong#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#fanfiction#kpop imagines
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Cremation Charlie
Title: Cremation Charlie (COMPLETE)
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Summary: A lot has happened since Vegas. Dean meets up with you in Albuquerque. Takes place in Season 7, after Plucky's.
Word Count: 14,000
Warnings: fluff, flirting, angst, explicit language, smut, heights
A/N: Originally posted on AO3. So, I have to thank Winchesters_queen (on AO3) for this story idea. Seeds were unknowingly planted when I chose Albuquerque as the reader's place of residence. It took me a while to get a feel for how the story should progress. And, I do like the idea of trying to follow the canon of the show. Hot or not, I feel like if the reader found out Dean had been on the FBI's Most Wanted List, there'd be a little hesitancy in meeting up again. I mean, yeah, everyone's got a type and to each their own. I just don't think this reader would find serial killers hot. But the pieces and plot fell into place. Happy with that.
Dean peeled out of the back alley of the restaurant slash playland. It was the perfect mix of a young kid’s fantasy and an adult’s hellhole. He was still chuckling, feeling the remnants down deep in his belly. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. Not since the time he spent with you in Vegas.
He wasn’t sure where he and Sam were headed. One thing he was sure about. Even though he missed Baby, ached to run his fingers along her steering wheel and rev her engine, he was relieved to be driving this ‘73 Mercury Cougar right now. He would have never gotten the glitter bomb Sam was covered with out of Baby’s passenger seat. Hell, Sam wouldn’t have been allowed inside her with his sparkly ass.
They would hotwire another POS car soon enough. Would have to in order to stay under the radar of pretty much everyone at this point once they made it out of Wichita, Kansas. Or got a lead on exactly what Dick Roman was planning from Frank. Something had to give soon. Roman’s toothy grin, hiding the leviathan underneath, required some serious restructuring under Dean’s hands.
Dean gripped the steering wheel and floored the gas on the dark open road. Fields spun out for miles, merged with the horizon in every direction. He’d missed Kansas. Wanted to hug these back roads for as many hours as he could. The peace and quiet. He rolled down the driver’s side window. Memories triggered. Not memories as much as... snapshots. Before Sam. With Mom in the passenger seat. Him behind Dad in a booster seat. Tiny. Looking up. Seeing her blonde wavy hair bouncing in the wind. Her smiling profile, directed at Dad. Her turning back to tap his little knee with a soft caress.
Movement beside Dean broke him out of the slideshow recall. Sam shifted, his lengthy frame crumpled like a broken pretzel in the seat. Head lolling, dreaming or nightmaring about God knew what. Dean got distracted by Sam’s occasional sparkling. The glitter reminded him of strippers. Strippers reminded him of Vegas. Vegas reminded him of you.
“We’re gonna find a motel, Sammy. So you can wash all that shit off.” Dean decided.
“Hm?” Sam grunted. His eyes blinked slow, pried open with a wide yawn.
“All that clown jizz. You need to wash that crap off. Pronto.”
“Sure. Whatever.” He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “Ah, shit.” His eyes blinked with a rapid concern. “I got fucking glitter in my eyes.”
Dean’s chuckling started up again. From deep down, genuine. Most of his chest got in on the laugh.
“It’s not funny, Dean. I could go blind. And, this isn’t plain glitter. It’s supernatural, fear manifested glitter.” Sam stared at his offending hand and continued blinking.
“Jesus. There’s some bottled water in the cooler. Rinse it out.” He thumbed behind his seat.
Sam turned to him, “What about the…” he stopped himself.
Dean knew Sam remembered they weren’t in Baby just then.
“Bend forward and flush it out.” Dean directed.
A minute passed. Dean pulled a hand towel out of his duffel in the back seat. Splashes of water dampened Dean’s jeans. He pushed the towel in Sam’s face, his eyes closed. “Pat. Don’t rub. Better?”
“A little.” Sam sighed and shook his head like a freshly washed dog.
Dean blinked his own eyes at the droplets hitting his face. “Well, don’t get it on me for Christ’s sake!”
“Not as funny, huh?” Sam huffed.
Dean sighed.
*
Dean took a shot of whiskey from Bobby’s flask, tapping away on the laptop. Browser windows opened and cascaded on top of each other on the screen. Dozens of articles on Dick Roman, his enterprise, his holdings, his ventures. Dean was sick of seeing that pompous, arrogant ass. But couldn’t stop searching. He needed to find the thing that killed Bobby.
His fingers dipped into the duffel resting on the nearby empty seat. He rummaged through, found the shape he sought out by touch, and pulled out one of Bobby’s cells they’d kept with them after he’d died. Well, Dean had kept it for a specific reason. One he hadn’t shared with Sam. Sam was currently occupied in the bathroom; scrubbing himself under the shower stream for what was going on a half hour.
He’d heard the message for the first time a month after Bobby’s death. And you’d left it a couple months before that. He should have reached out to you then. Talking to you might have helped. He’d be able to confess, explain, as crazy as everything would sound. It might have grounded him for an hour or so, talking to someone normal, outside of their circle of crazy. And, if you’d hung up and never reached out again, so be it.
But? What if you didn’t? What if you were just a little crazy enough to give it all a listen? To be open to all of the things under the veil of normal? He’d gotten a feeling, maybe more of a suspicion, you might during those few hours you shared on that October night. Hell, maybe he would have taken off without Sammy and driven to Albuquerque to meet up with you. Finish what you’d both started in Vegas five months ago, a lifetime of pain ago. Escape. Even if it was only for a little while.
But then he got sucked into 1944. Then he’d hooked up with the Amazon Lydia, and Sam had to kill Dean’s teen daughter, Emma, the result of said hook-up. That was a whole thing. And hours earlier they’d taken care of an employee of Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie, who’d been using manifestations of children’s fears to play judge, jury, and executioner to whoever he thought deserved it. Dean grinned at the still wrapped giant Slinky on the kitchenette counter. At least one good thing came out of it.
He listened to ensure the water was still running in the shower. He’s gonna be a fucking prune when he comes out. Dean hit the speaker button on the phone.
“Um, yeah. I’m looking for FBI Director, Mike Kayser.” Your voice was hesitant. Dean smiled at the way you stated your full name, all formal. You even added your middle name, a new piece of information he hadn’t heard the night you spent together. “This is insane.” You mumbled. “Look, anyway, I got this number from a guy. He said his name was Dean Winchester. I was told to call this number if I couldn’t reach him.” He frowned, anticipating the next part of the message he’d listened to a dozen times. “But, I’m calling because, well, I’m a little, no, a lot concerned. So, I met this Dean Winchester after he apparently had died. From what I found out he and his brother had themselves a murder spree across the country. Ended up on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. Got captured in Ankeny, Iowa, and were killed trying to escape.” You sighed into the phone. “Look. I really just need to know what the hell’s going on. The guy I met…” You stopped. “Well, he didn’t seem like a serial killer.” Dean pictured you rolling your eyes. “Of course, that’s what everyone says after the fact. But, he didn’t. And, I find it odd that of all the phone numbers he’d give me to contact would be that of an FBI Director. If that’s even true. So, if someone could call me back and let me know something. At the least, I’d like to know if I need to be put in Witness Protection and get an alias.” You laughed that laugh that made Dean grin. You left your number. “Thanks.”
Dean exited and scrolled through the call list. Again. For the tenth time after he’d noticed that Bobby had called the number you’d left. And, it had been a long talk for Bobby. Fucking twenty minutes. And even more curious, you had called him back a couple weeks later. Talked to Bobby again for another half hour. Chatty fucking Cathy, huh Bobby. What the hell did you talk to her about? Whatever it was had some finality to it, because there hadn’t been another call from you. And Bobby had died soon after that.
Must have been why she never tried to get in touch with me after that last time. She’s got some sense. But, I could already tell that. He knew he should leave it alone. Leave you alone. But he really wanted to know what Bobby had told you. And why the hell you’d called Bobby back.
The shower cut off. Dean yelled. “Sammy! Want me to grab us some grub? I’m starving.”
“Yeah. Something not artery clogging for me.” He sounded even more exhausted.
“It’s two am. Your kale eating ass will have to settle for whatever greasy joint is open.” Dean grumbled and grabbed his jacket off the chair back. He slipped Bobby’s phone in a pocket and headed out.
*
Dean put in the order at the diner counter, paid in advance, and stepped out in the cold March night for some privacy. The misty drizzle prickled his cheeks. His breath steamed out from his mouth. He scrolled through Bobby’s call list and pressed your number. Stared at it. Hesitated to dial.
Dean had been properly buzzed that Vegas night with you. But parts of your conversations, especially back on the rug at his motel were clear and vivid. One fact you’d told him was that you had terrible insomnia. Stayed up late most nights and existed on not much sleep. He could definitely relate to that.
He shrugged. “What the hell. I can chalk it up to a Friday night drunk dial.” Dean called your number. He felt his eyes widen when he heard you pick up on the second ring.
“Bobby?”
He could feel his eyes bug out even more. Sonava bitch gave her his real name. “Not Bobby.”
Silence for some seconds. “Dean?”
“Long time no talk, sweetheart.”
You were shifting, doing something. “How-how are you doing?”
“Been better. How about you? I know it’s late, but…”
“You knew I wouldn’t be asleep.” Your laugh was a delightful mix of soft and scratchy to Dean’s ear.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Are you playing hard to get with me or don’t want to be found altogether?”
“Me? What about you?” You tossed back the question.
“Hey, I haven’t heard from you since those few texts a week after Vegas. Then, come to find out you’ve been chit-chatting with Bobby. You didn’t seem like the Sugar Daddy type to me.” He leaned against the side of his parked car. The bright interior of the diner and neon sign above lit up his waiting spot. It would be some minutes before his bag of food would appear on the counter.
“Do Sugar Daddies own junk yards? I didn’t realize how lucrative a business that was. Impersonating federal agents can only get someone so far, I guess.”
Dean held up a hand. “Wait. Wait a minute. How do you…”
“Bobby told me a lot, Dean.”
Dean swallowed. “How much?”
“You should ask him. My mind is still trying to process most of it.”
“Yeah, well…” Dean trailed off.
“Why are you calling me on his phone, anyway?” Silence again. “Oh. How long ago?”
“It’s been a couple months.”
“I’m so sorry, Dean. He sounded like a decent, upstanding man. And, I could tell… he cared a lot about you and Sam.”
“You could tell that over a couple phone conversations?”
“Yep. Men of little words say a lot when it’s important. You have to pay attention. And, catch them on a good day, I guess.”
“I heard that voicemail you left.”
“Ah. So, you know how freaked out you had me? Thanks, by the way. You owe me two months worth of sleep.”
“Sorry.”
“Bobby didn’t mention talking to me?”
“No. I guess he figured it was better you didn’t have anything to do with me.”
“Or he was occupied with more important things. It sounded like you all were working on saving the world again.”
“What the hell did he…”
“Where are you?” You switched gears on him.
“Wichita, Kansas.”
“How far is that from Albuquerque?”
Dean smiled. He’d already Googled it back at the motel. “About ten hours.”
“Think you can make it here around midnight tonight? I mean, if you have time...”
“I don’t think the world’s going to implode between now and then.”
“If that’s a joke, you have a fucking twisted sense of humor, Dean Winchester.”
Dean chuckled. “Kind of goes along with the job.”
“Yeah.” You sighed. “So, do I send you the location to meet me on this phone or the original number you gave me?”
“You still have that?”
“Yep.”
Another smile. “Send it to mine, sweetheart.”
“Will do. Oh, and bring a bottle of champagne.”
“Huh?”
“Bottle of champagne. Can be a cheap bottle. As long as it pops and fizzes when you open it.”
“Okay…”
“See you in a few hours, handsome.” You hung up.
*
Of course. The early morning nap at the motel after the greasy diner food turned into a passed out until two in the afternoon snooze fest. Sam’s unwillingness to let Dean up and leave without a detailed explanation delayed the trip as well.
Dean tapped a Sorry, gonna be late. Still okay or should we try another time? to you before he attempted to pacify his brother. “What’s the problem here, Sammy?”
Sam raised his hands. “Are you serious? You’ve had nothing on the brain but Dick since Bobby.”
Dean raised a finger along with his brows. “Rephrase.”
Sam pursed his lips before continuing. “And now, it’s ‘I’ve got something to do I’ll be back’ and you expect me to believe you’re not going off half-cocked to take care of it without me? Did you hear from Frank?”
Dean’s phone buzzed back a reply from you. Still okay. You got my directions?
“Is that him?” Sam rose from his bed and stormed over to Dean.
“No.” Dean sighed. He typed a quick Yes. “Okay, look. It’s a woman, alright.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “I thought you were done with the ladies, after Lydia. That’s what you told me three days ago, Dean. Accidental fatherhood, uncle having to kill his niece and all that.”
“I am. I just… Sam.” Dean slipped the phone into his pocket and went back to packing his duffel. “There’s always another job to keep our minds off how badly we’ve screwed up until we find a way to save the world.” He zipped the bag. “I met this woman back in Vegas. That night before you went all bonkers for Becky and I had to attend your wedding.”
Sam shivered at the memory.
“I’ve got a second chance to just…” He dropped his arms in defeat and exhaustion. “Just be, man.”
“Get laid, you mean?”
Dean shrugged. “Maybe that, too. But, I didn’t have to work at being anything but me with her.”
Sam’s eyes widened. Dean could tell he was ready to call bullshit with that grin. “So, she knows all about us, huh? The hunting? The apocalypse? You going to hell? Me following you a year later, stuck in Lucifer’s cage? Castiel? The leviathans? You tell her all that?”
“Bobby told her something. Before he… I just don’t know what.”
Sam shook his head. The confusion and incredulity washing over his face. “What?”
“Look, I’m going, Sam.”
Sam nodded. “I’m coming then.”
Dean shook his head.
“There’s no way you’re going anywhere without me. Besides, if we get a lead on Roman, we’ll need to move. Fast. And, we need to be together. We don’t have the back up like we used to.” Sam nodded again. “You know I’m right.”
Dean rolled his eyes and tilted his head back. “Fine.”
He sent you a message. Hope it’s okay but brother wants to tag along.
You wrote back a minute later. The more the merrier.
*
The Midwestern plains transitioned into Southwestern mesas and red rock landscapes over the trek. Sam and Dean approached the city of Albuquerque eleven hours after the start of their drive. They’d taken turns at the wheel, with Dean a much more willing passenger without Baby as their mode of transportation. Multiple signs greeted and pointed out they were on Route 66 as it became one with Central Avenue in Albuquerque.
The urban stretch of the route through this city covered around eighteen miles, according to Mr. Walking Talking encyclopedia aka Sam Winchester. The temptation to swing into a casino they passed was great for Dean. He smiled to himself, wondering if you’d gone in there since Vegas to try your luck on roulette again. Always bet on black. A funky, pueblo style motel, named the Tewa lodge, got Dean’s attention. Note to self in case I ever find myself in the area again. He read the amenities under the VACANCY sign. ‘$29.95 and Up. Free Cable TV and FREE Local Calls’. Oh baby, you had me at ‘Kitchenette’s’.
A diner called Loyola’s, decked out with a large neon steaming cup of coffee, served breakfast burritos when it was open according to the window stenciling. Dean’s mouth salivated at the large number of diners on the strip. My kind of city. He had to pull up to read the menu of yet another tiny restaurant called The Doghouse. The long rectangular neon sign resting atop the boxy building had an animated brown weiner dog wagging its tail. Dean slapped Sam’s chest. “Foot-long chili dogs, Sammy. Foot. Long.”
“Dude, I would never get in the car with you after you ingested something like that.”
“This is definitely my kind of city.” Dean beamed in the dark under the flashing neon. “Hey, what do they call those food tours, where you taste tons of different things?”
“Gastronomy.” Sam chuckled.
“I wanna gastronomy all over this bitch.” Dean pulled back onto the road.
“They certainly like their neon.” Sam pointed to a bright cowboy riding a horse as it lassoed the “El Don” in the name of the El Don Motel sign. “Lots of history here.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing EMF is off the charts in a lot of these places.” Dean added.
Modern and Spanish mission style mingled together on every street. For every building with crisp edges and straight lines there was another with stucco, a red tile roof and rounded edges. They took in as much as they could in the early morning drive, ticking past two am. They drove over the Rio Grande River. But the city wasn’t their ultimate destination. At least not according to your directions. Once through the city, it was another twenty minutes of solitary travel through grassland and barren, desert vistas. Mesas cut silhouettes against the night sky. The Mercury Cougar’s wheels finally spun onto the dirt road they’d been in search of after Sam had to pull out a road map when the GPS gave out.
Sam caught the beacon of activity first. “Down that way. Looks like truck lights.” He pointed. “Sure we’re not walking into some sort of trap, Dean?”
He patted Sam’s shoulder. “Well, I guess it’s good you came along to protect me from myself, little brother.” Dean’s stomach flipped. But not with unease. It was in anticipation of seeing you again. “She’s cool, man. No weird vibes, even if we are in Breaking Bad territory.”
“You don’t have a stellar track record with the ladies you’ve picked up lately.”
“Shut up.”
On approach, the headlights of four 4x4 trucks came into focus, parked in a neat row one next to the other by the road. A group of people were assembled around the back of the vehicles. A couple seated on the open tailgates, some standing, and all looked to have beers in hand.
Dean slid the Cougar alongside one of the trucks, parked, then smiled when you walked over to greet him and his brother. Every shitty moment of the past five months slipped away when your figure was spotlighted in his headlamps. Whatever, wherever this was, you looked in your element here. Relaxed and confident in faded jeans and the kind of t-shirt Dean liked on a woman. The kind that grips all those dangerous curves and leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Come on, Sam. Let’s make our introductions.” Dean hopped out without waiting for Sam’s response.
You strolled up to the open car door and met Dean on the other side, an open beer bottle gripped in one hand; two dangling by their necks between fingers in the other. “You found it.” You smiled.
“Could have warned us it’d be a huge pain in the ass to get here.”
A grin this time. “What would have been the fun in that?”
Damn, he didn’t realize how much he missed that look on your face until he saw it again. Dean made the introductions between you and Sam. You offered the beers.
“I hear you like desert treks, Sam.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Well, that’s what you were off doing when I met Dean in Vegas. Where’d you end up, anyway, that night?”
“Married.” Dean answered for him.
Sam spit out some of his beer. He wiped his face with the back of his cuff. “Quickie wedding. Quickie divorce.” Sam explained.
It was your turn to raise eyebrows. “Wow. How come that wasn’t on your agenda of things to do that night, Dean?”
Dean leaned against the side of the car. “If we’d been together a few more hours, who knows, sweetheart.”
You laughed. “Sure.”
The cold beer slid easy down Dean’s throat. His lips smacked together. “So, what’s the deal?” He pointed to the group. A huddle of three eyed the newcomers. The other two were kissing in the truck bed and didn’t take much notice of anything.
“That’s my crew. We’ve got a job at sunrise. Testing out the equipment.”
“Job? This doesn’t look like an office job.” Dean grinned.
“Little side business I started a couple years back. More of a passion you might say.” You shrugged.
“At three am in the morning I’d say so.” Dean quipped.
You stepped into Dean’s space, your sneaker tapping his boot. “Maybe I can get some free labor out of you boys?”
“Depends.” He licked his lips, staring at you.
“On?”
“If I get some alone time with you later.” His eyes looked dead straight into yours, unblinking, waiting to see if you’d cave. He remembered how good you felt, so close, when he’d gotten the nerve to do his Luke Bryan impersonation in the motel room. He wanted to feel your lips pressed to his again. See if they were as soft as he remembered.
Sam cleared his throat a few feet away.
You backed away. Dean smiled in victory over the blush he’d caused. “Come on over.” You sighed, shaking your head, as you released the statement.
Dean eyed the curve of your hips leading the way. Sam elbowed him and gave the “Dude, take it down a notch” expression.
“Everybody,” your voice was loud, in charge, and Dean appreciated the change. “This is Dean Wilton and Sam Jackson.”
What the hell? Dean could feel Sam’s quizzical look burrowing down at him, even without turning.
A younger guy, tall and almost Sam’s height but with a buzzcut, thrust himself in front of them with eager handshakes. “It’s an honor to even be considered for an article in the BFA journal.”
Sam and Dean stared wide-eyed at each other and then you.
“Don’t pay Stan much mind. He’s still wet behind the ears.” A tubby man spoke up in a baseball cap, his arm around a cute little blonde sitting next to him in the truck bed. They’d been the two kissing earlier. “You lucked out. It’s gonna be a nice morning to launch.”
Sam mouthed the word launch? to Dean.
“So, you two are freelance journalists?” Stan asked.
Dean gave your grin only a second of his attention. “Uh, yeah. You know, love the open road… love to… freelance.” He waved the beer around in a dramatic gesture. “Go where the wind takes us.”
Stan tapped his biceps and let out a chuckle. “Where the wind takes you. I see what you did there.”
“So,” you continued. “along with Stan, we have Marvin,” she pointed to the man on the truck, “Cleo,” the girl under his arm, “and over there is Gen and Gabe.” A female and male, both Native American, gave a quick nod.
Sam waved. “Nice to meet all of you.”
“I told them you’d basically be observing and might help out if you felt so inclined.” You clarified to Sam and Dean. “We want to get two trucks out over there to shine some light on the situation, give us a little halo to work with?”
“On it.” Stan raced away to the farthest truck. Marvin and Cleo hopped off the bed and got into their cab.
“Gabe.” You nodded. “How about you and Gen over there in the middle, and start to unload the equipment?”
“Got it, boss.”
Once it was the three of you, alone, Dean was the first to speak. “Journalists, sweetheart? And, what the hell is going on?”
Your eyes stared back at him, innocent with a little hint of mischief. “Isn’t this what you boys do? Go undercover a lot? I thought the FBI thing would scare them. And, Marvin might actually try to look like he’s working if he thinks someone’s writing a story on us. This might be his last launch if he can’t get it together.”
“Shit, you really do know a ton about us.” Sam blinked his eyes in rapid succession.
“Bobby told me about the ghosts, monsters, angels, demons, and those nasty suckers you're dealing with at the moment. The reason you ended up being on America’s Most Wanted.” You shrugged. “Your last names were apparently everywhere along with those cute mugs of yours. I didn’t want to connect all the dots for my crew, in case any of them care about what’s happening in the world and actually track the news.”
“Thoughtful, I guess.” Dean tilted his head. “But, still. What the hell is going on? What’s the BFA?”
Sam added, “And, what exactly, are you launching?”
You smiled. “BFA is the Balloon Federation of America.”
Dean’s mouth hung open. “Balloons? You're launching balloons?”
“One very big balloon, Dean.”
*
You smiled at how agreeable and accommodating the boys were at taking directions. And it was kind of fun bossing Dean around. You got a sense he was enjoying it as well.
Dean assisted Gen and Gabe with pulling all the heavy equipment out of one of the truck beds. The propane tanks and inflation fans were the most cumbersome. Dean helped Gabe with the four passenger gondola, much lighter made of wicker, but awkward in size and shape for only one to maneuver. He worked from atop the truck, guiding it down to Gabe. He was wearing way too many layers for what was to come. But, for now, the March temperature was chilly enough that you didn’t bother to mention it. He’ll find out soon enough.
“Gondola, huh?” Dean hopped down. His boots hit the ground. His body, silent and agile, like a cat. “I thought only boats in Venice or at The Venetian were called that.” He brushed his hands together and wandered over to stand beside you.
“You can call it a basket. You aren’t an official part of my chase crew, so I’ll give you a pass.”
He shook his head. “We talked about a lot of things that night. Why not this?”
“Could say the same about you.” You tilted your head, studying him in the dark. His jaw clenched at the call out. That scruff begged for you to run your nails over it. You wanted to hear the scratch and feel the grit under your fingers, like fine sandpaper. Focusing, even on your train of thought, was a true struggle with him in such close proximity. You did your best to continue. “This is sacred to me. Not a lot of people understand why I love it so much. Or, why I have to do it. So, I’m a little protective.”
“So, why show it to me now?” His voice was low, tentative.
“Cause you called. And, you were close. And, who knows when I’ll see you again.” Another question was begging to be asked by Dean. The expression on his face was pained and confused, like a little boy. How does he go from sexy to cute in a fraction of a second? “What?”
“I still don’t understand why Bobby would tell you… everything.”
Stan and Marvin placed the large canvas bag, with Sam’s help, by the gondola, resting on its side. Gabe and Gen positioned the inflation fan and readied the burner.
“If you do a good job, Winchester,” you lifted onto your tiptoes to whisper in Dean’s ear, “maybe you and I can go somewhere private later and talk more about… everything.”
His lopsided grin fueled the flirting. “I’m up to any task. Here to learn all about ballooning, right?”
You smiled back. “So, right now, we are in the putting up phase.”
“Putting out?” Dean questioned for clarification and licked his lips.
You giggled. “Putting up. This is the setup and inflation phase.”
“Ah.” He pointed to Sam, holding the large bag open while Stan and Marvin unpacked the contents. “Kid’s a natural.” He nodded to the first part emerging from the bag. “What’s that?”
“That’s the skirt of the envelope. Envelope is the balloon. That’s in the bag, too. Those wires are what connect the envelope to the gondola.” Gen and Gabe fastened the skirt in place. Stan and Marvin began to unfold the balloon out to its full length.
Dean’s eyes widened as they continued unfolding. “How tall is it?”
“Almost 70 feet.”
Dean whistled.
“Sam?” You called out to the younger, but taller, of the brothers. “Would you mind meeting Stan and Marvin down by the other end? Tell Stan I asked you to help with the crown line, please?”
“Crown line. Got it.” Sam was all smiles. He really looked like he was enjoying himself.
“What’s the crown line?”
“You’d make a really good journalist, Dean.” You waited for his Okay, Wise Ass look to form before answering. “Think of it like an anchor. Sam will be in charge of holding that rope nice and taut while we inflate the balloon.”
“What am I going to help with, boss?” Dean mused and watched Stan pull at the balloon, unwrapping the folds with great care like a present on one of the sides.
You appreciated Stan’s excitement in ballooning even if he could be a little over the top. Marvin’s lackluster attempt as he unfolded the other side to match Stan’s light bulb pattern produced a frown on your lips.
“Boss?” Dean waved a hand in front of your face, pulling you out of your internal staff assessment. “Wow, this really is a passion, huh?” Dean’s narrowing eyes studied you.
You nodded. “I told you it was.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Here I am trying my best to compete with a bunch of polyester fabric.”
“Nylon, actually, and fire resistant material to boot.” Dean sidled up closer in the dark that wasn’t that dark, with the bright moon low in the sky and the truck lights criss crossing over the scene. The heat of his body broke through the chilly March morning, entering your space.
God, you had missed him more than you thought was possible. In the space of a few hours that October night, he’d imprinted a want that you hadn’t been able to shake. It had been nights and days of thoughts of him. And, then, when you came across the rather terrifying information that Dean and his brother had been serial killer fugitives on a murderous crime spree - one that had ended up in their deaths - well, the thoughts had turned ominous and life threatening. Thank God Bobby called me back. You’d been saddened by the news of the gruff and sweet hunter who’d helped so much in such a short amount of time. You were debating when to hit Dean with the other information you had been holding back. If there would even be time to do that tonight.
A finger tapped on the side of your chin. “What do we do with you, Dean?”
His brows rose in one uniform gesture. “I’ve got some ideas.” The voice crept out low with a ton of possible innuendos ready to spill out.
“Since you can’t keep that mouth of yours shut... you and Gabe can hold the mouth open while we inflate.” You resolved. “May want to lose a couple layers. It’s gonna get pretty hot up in here. Go help Gabe with the fan and ready the burner for me.”
“Sassy and bossy.”
You nodded. “It’s my night to call the shots. You had your fun in Vegas.”
“Aw, come on. You had fun, too.” Dean peeled the jacket and button up off together in one deft motion. The discarded clothes draped over the side of your truck bed. “Remember Cherie?”
You cleared your throat. “How could I forget?”
Dean tilted his head, looking a bit taken aback at your enthusiasm. “I was there, too, remember?”
The self-deprecation made you giggle. “How could I forget?” You repeated. Pointing to the balloon, you reminded, “Less talk, more action.”
*
A half-hour had passed and the inflation process was almost done. Stan and Marvin had released some small helium balloons to gauge the wind conditions, chasing them in the dark sky with their flashlights. Sam did a great job at the top of the envelope with the crown line. You could hear him conversing with the men and Gen with genuine interest in the launch preparations. You took special note of how animated Gen was with Sam, the very opposite of her normal broody demeanor. Massive mountain of a man with flowy mane and mutton chops is her type. Code is finally cracked.
You’d manned the burner, shooting fire into the mouth of the envelope like a dragon in staccato bursts. Dean had spent a lot of time talking over the roar of the flame and the fan’s motor. His questions were directed at Gabe on the other side of the opening. Your silent sympathy went out to both of the men. Their arms had been extended and their bodies positioned in awkward stages for a long time to tent the envelope in order to get her airborne. You remembered your own burn and fatigue endured as part of a chase crew growing up. Their muscles might be screaming in agony the next day.
Gabe was pleasant enough to the so-called reporter, answering Dean in short statements. But his attention was elsewhere. He kept peeking down the other end to the crown line where his sister Genessee had wandered to talk to Sam. The protective older brother was emerging.
Your gaze kept going back to Dean for much of the process. His initiation began with burrowing into the balloon's mouth, head first, on his hands and knees. It provided a sweet view of his even sweeter ass before he gathered the fabric over his shoulders and rose up in victory.
He was quite the distraction with all of the delicious little details you got to inspect. His biceps bulged and stretched the sleeves of his white t-shirt. The sweat that caused the shirt material to stick to random parts of his torso also drenched his forehead. Being so near to the burner and its heat had every patch of exposed skin glistening in the fire’s flame. He licked the perspiration pouring down his face and onto his lips. Your heart stopped a few times when he tugged his shirt up to wipe at his face, giving you a glimpse of the firm chest and undulating tummy you had only dreamed about on occasion.
He called out to you once, his grin bright in the orange glow, “Like blowing wind up my skirt, sweetheart?”
You smiled back and nodded, relishing the flirting just enough without making Gabe uncomfortable. Your assessment of the inflation continued even with the distraction. It always brought butterflies to your stomach, watching the rise of the fabric, bowing bigger until you could stare into the tunnel ahead, like some psychedelic acid trip. You directed Dean to change position and follow Gabe’s lead when the envelope hinted its impending lift off the ground. You checked in with Stan, your point person walking back and forth from the crown line to the gondola, screaming over the fan and burner. “Get Marvin here to hold her steady! Won’t be much longer before we launch!”
Stan saluted and ran off in search of Marvin.
“Gabe, I think Sam can ease off the crown line. Want to get him and Gen back here.”
Gabe’s wary glance went from you to Dean.
“Dean’s got it.” You calmed his concern.
Dean gave Gabe a thumbs up. Gabe nodded and hurried to pass along the instructions.
“Dean, can you help me pull the gondola back and then tilt up when I give you the word? Don’t let her go or you owe me forty grand.” Dean’s surprised expression made you chuckle. You shut off the fan and flashed the burner steady. The balloon was rising up like a drawbridge, quicker and quicker. “Now.”
He nodded, staring up in awe, so close to the imposing object and its dominance of the sky above them. The sheen of her metallic panels were muted and dulled in the dark.
“She’s even prettier in the daylight.” You answered Dean’s silent inspection. “Pink, purple, and blue. She sparkles in the sun.”
He gave you a smile right as Marvin and Stan returned to your side.
“Clear out the fan and get that extra propane tank.” You called to the men and tugged the flame bright again. “Short ride still needs some backup fuel.”
Soon the whole crew was back, hands clamped on the sides of the gondola, keeping your baby in place, tethered to the ground for a few more minutes. Sam and Dean smiled at each other like kids. That alone made your whole night.
“Walkie-talkies on and ready?” You tapped yours on, snug on your belt buckle, and confirmed the nods from Gen, Stan, and Marvin. You grabbed one of the rails and hopped onto the edge, then swung one leg in followed by the other and slid into the gondola. Gabe secured the tank into its holding spot beside you. “Alright, Mr. Wilton? Ready for that ride?”
*
It took Dean a couple seconds to realize the question was directed at him. “Wha-what?”
“How are you going to write that article if you don’t get in?” You asked, perplexed and confused, smiling through the question.
Dean’s mouth rounded into an “O” and then he shook his head. “Oh. Yeah. No. I can’t.”
Your heart dropped.
Sam whispered somewhere behind you. “He’s scared of flying. Airplanes.” You looked at Sam, who shrugged. “Probably heights, too.”
You shook your head at Dean. “I can guarantee you, Dean, that after a couple minutes you’ll be fine. No relative altitude, if it's a height thing. And, we don’t have much of a choice but to work with the wind, not enough power to fight an air current. I promise not to take you higher than 3,000 feet.” You smiled.
His look was filled with dread and apprehension. “Is that all?”
You thought back to your first night together and opted for the flirty approach. You waited for his eyes to land on yours as they glanced everywhere in worry. “You’ll be glad you took the chance.”
That cracked the surface of worry. “And if I’m not and want to jump out?”
You nodded. “I’ll lower this baby enough for you to skydive out.” The seconds ticked by. A sigh left your mouth. “Mr. Jackson might be better suited for this part of the reporting.”
Sam chuckled. “Oh, I’m up for it. But, I think Dean will be kicking himself if he doesn’t take you up on the offer.”
Dean shrugged. “We could both go.”
You looked at Dean in amazement. Geez, he really is scared if he’s turning down an opportunity to be alone with me.
“We can’t both go. Somebody’s gotta interview and be a part of the chase crew.” You caught Sam’s slight nod to Gen, standing behind him as he spoke directly to Dean across the gondola. “Don’t be a wuss.” Sam egged.
“I’m not a wuss.” Dean mumbled. More moments of indecision worked over his face. “Fine.” He hopped into the gondola before he could debate any further with himself. It teetered with the additional weight and Dean looked ready to bolt out again.
“Keys, Dean?” Sam questioned
“In my jacket, on the truck.” He leaned forward, wedging his ass into a corner of the wicker basket and staring at its floor. Fingers white knuckled the side edges, his arms locked and splayed out. He looked like he was bracing himself for a rocket launch. Or perhaps anticipating motion sickness.
You shook your head to yourself. There didn’t seem any point in trying to comfort him at the moment. He’ll just have to see for himself. “Gabe, you drive my truck and lead the chase.” You readied your hand on the burner.
Gen raised a hand to alert her brother. “I’ll ride with Sam. Answer some questions.”
Sam seemed quite happy with the decision. Gabe, not so much.
You pulled out your trusty baseball cap, out of your secret stash pocket with essentials, and grabbed an extra one for Dean. A slight shove placed it in his sight line in the arm’s length of space between the both of you. “Put this on, going to get hot.”
He hesitated with a grunt, then hurried with a swift and snug placement of the cap on his head. The death grip returned to the basket. He still didn’t look up. His eyes scrunched shut nice and tight.
When you turned back to Sam, you whispered. “He’ll be fine.”
Sam nodded.
You nodded to the crew, gave the thumbs up, then tugged at the burner. The flame roared. Everyone’s hands lifted up at once, releasing your anchor to the ground. The balloon rose up soft and steady, an almost imperceptible shift, like you knew it would. The slight hiccup in your stomach from the elation reminded you of all those countless balloon rides growing up. A tilt to glance down over the edge saw your crew shrink below, awash in the headlights, their necks craned up to survey the flight.
Dean asked, disgruntled and impatient, eyes still closed, once the burner silenced for a bit. “Are we doing this or what?”
“Done, Dean. Open your eyes if you want. Tiny Sam down below.”
“What?” His face shot up. One eye popped open, staring at you, then the motion of the scenery behind you. “We…”
“We’re in the air.” Pilot mode was second nature to you at this point. Scanning the environment for any potential hazards, changes in wind conditions, flaming so you could rise were just a few of the dozen things you multitasked as you calmed your nervous and oh so handsome passenger. You had to admit some of the elation you felt was due to his presence this early morning. “How are you doing?”
His other eye opened and his head rotated left, right, up, down. Wide-eyed under the baseball cap, he ventured out of the corner. His boots slid with care along the basket’s side as if he was scaling a wall. A quick lengthening of his neck allowed him to peer down at the group on the ground. “Holy shit!” There was more awe than fear in his voice.
You radioed to Gabe, “Looks good up here. I don’t think Mr. Wilton will be joining you all down below just yet. Over.” The look on Dean’s face was priceless as he took in the atmosphere. You could see the hesitancy fading away and the relief building.
“Copy that, Silent Lucidity. Which direction you headed? Over.”
“Looks like she’s going where the little ones headed earlier. So, Northwest. Keep an eye on her and I’ll check in at fifteen. Over.”
“Got it. Over and out.” Static punctuated the end of Gabe’s statement.
“I’ve got a little lantern light I can flip on, if you need it.” You offered to Dean. “But, it can mess with the view. So, let me know.”
“Will it make it hard for you to steer or whatever?” Dean asked.
“Not steering, but no, not really. We picked this launch site for a reason. There will be a beautiful sunrise view for the job. Not a lot of things to stare at but sky.”
He chuckled. “So, you’re really gonna be up here again in less than a couple hours with a guy who’ll be proposing to his girlfriend?”
“Yep. Still doing okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Surprisingly good, actually. Nothing like being in an airplane or staring out of a 40th floor window.”
“Told ya.”
“You did. I’ll never doubt you again.” He was working his way closer to you, edging with care. “What’s it take to become a pilot?”
“Hundred clocked flight hours, FAA certification.”
His features came into bright focus under the burner flames, only a foot away from you. He’d taken off his baseball cap. “Wow. That’s impressive.” You could tell he meant it. Then, the gears of some random thought fell into place. “Queensrÿche?”
You smiled. “Yeah.”
“So, her name’s Silent Lucidity?”
Another nod. “Sometimes I like to play the song when she launches.”
“Nice. You really are full of surprises, sweetheart.”
“So are you, Dean. How can someone who’s battled Lucifer be afraid of heights?”
He shrugged. “Hey, I’m still human.”
“From the stories I heard, you leveled up beyond most of us mere mortals a long time ago.”
His eyes flashed in the flame. You were the only thing he was focusing on now. “So, what did Bobby tell you? Exactly?”
“He told me that your dad got into hunting because a demon killed your mom. You and Sam were brought up in it. You’ve dealt with pretty much every monster anyone could think of. Nothing much surprises you anymore. Not after Heaven and Hell.” You stopped, watching him study you. “Told me that you went to Hell and came back. Then, there was the impending Apocalypse. Thanks for saving the world, by the way.” Your mind was a swirl of impossible details as you tried to recall things in the correct order. “Then, you tried to save your brother from Lucifer. But, he ended up in some cage with the devil and the archangel Michael. Sam came back to the surface, not quite whole after that. When you tried to put him back together again, well Lucifer decided to scramble his egg instead. And, that now, Sam’s dealing with some major PTSD. And, that you lost a good friend recently.”
He couldn’t hide his confusion. “Why would he tell you all that?”
“He said he heard how scared I sounded when I left the message. That the only way he could explain the crazy was with even more crazy. That if I wanted to believe my life wasn’t in danger, I’d have to believe what he was going to tell me. And, that if I ever told anyone else, they’d more than likely have me committed. He also said you never, ever gave anyone outside of the hunting circle that particular number. So, you must have wanted to stay in touch with me. Or, he guessed, you’d want to be there for me if I needed help. Bobby said if that was the case, you’d want me to know the truth if it would make me feel better.”
Dean shook his head and smiled. His eyes were glassy in the burst of another flame.
“He cared about you a lot Dean.” Your thoughts reversed with your own past. “He sounded a lot like my dad.” You shook yourself out of them to focus on Dean. “So, Sam is…”
“Putting up one helluva fight to keep Lucifer at bay.”
“And, you?” You didn’t ask for permission and tapped on the lantern light. His features glowed in the amber light cascading into the gondola behind your right shoulder.
Those murky green eyes stared back with a set, clenched jaw. His tall frame dipped down, you guessed to get a better view of your reaction from under the rim of your baseball cap. “What about me?”
“It sounds like you sacrifice a lot for the good of the mission. For the good of Sam. Always.”
“Really? You got that out of a couple phone calls with a drunk old coot?” The smile teased. His low voice dripped with sarcasm and exhaustion.
“Maybe. You left me that night in Vegas. For Sam. When he called.”
The smile was gone in an instant. “Sweetheart, if I could have…”
“But, you couldn’t, Dean. Because of Sam.” Both shoulders rose. “And, hey, I get it. Family and all. It’s not like you were bailing your brother out of jail after another night of hell raising.” You shook your head. “Bad choice of words. But, you know what I mean. You both have had monumental, earth shattering decisions, universe affecting choices to make. What’s a night with a woman you’d just met in Vegas mean in the grand scheme of things?”
His hand lifted up over both your heads. His fingers draped over yours on the burner control. The touch was light, delicate, electric, and warmer than the flame. “It meant a lot to me.”
You swallowed hard, tilting your chin up to stare. The propane smell was thick in the air. You sighed. “Alright, Cremation Charlie.”
That broke him from his swoon worthy stare. “Huh?”
“Cremation Charlie was a nickname for a poor sap, back in the day before they’d invented inflation fans. The guy in the chase crew who put his life on the line. He was the one that would stand in the mouth of the envelope, hold it open while the burner heated the air to get the damn balloon off the ground. Risked burning himself to a crisp for the mission. Over and over again.”
Dean closed his eyes and grinned. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” His fingers skimmed over yours. You took the moment to spy and pay homage to his physique. His body still damp in spots with perspiration. His smell. His heat. “It’s pretty quiet up here.” He mumbled, eyes still closed, his frame swaying a couple inches back and forth.
You didn’t want to disrupt the silence. But you’d need to warm the air again to stay in the current floating you to where you hoped to end up. “Give it a tug.” You whispered.
His eyes jolted open at the soft command. “Huh?” The green in his eyes sparkled.
You slipped your hand out from under his. “Let’s get a rise out of you.” You grinned. “Heat us up, big boy.”
Dean smiled and tugged at the burner, looking up into the mouth and watching the flame burst alive. “What happens if we get too high?”
You wrapped your fingers around another dangling rope. “I pull on this and a vent opens to let air escape. Helps us descend.”
“So, if I get too carried away, you can put on the brakes?”
“Something like that.”
He shook his head and stared down at you. The fear was gone. The Dean you met that Vegas night was back and in full force. “You, in charge. Sexy as hell.”
You giggled at the tease. “You like bossy women?”
“Don’t tell anybody.” You gasped at the other hand pushing into the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. His hand on the control, your hand on the rope, tangled against each other in a dance of commands and directions. “I wish Sammy had stayed on his desert trek that night.” Dean licked his bottom lip, inspecting yours. “Things might have been a lot different.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me already.”
He smiled, bent down, tilted at just the right angle to fit under the rim of your cap, and pressed his mouth to yours. It was eager and investigating, searching with his tongue, making you moan. You felt him tug on the control, the flame roaring above you.
You broke for a second. “Easy there, tiger.” Your eyes scanned the area around you.
“Hey, I was just following orders.” He smirked.
“Yeah.” You sighed. “Okay, that’s enough playing pilot.”
He chuckled and released his hold from the burner, but not from you. “When are you done with your job this morning?”
“We should be done and packed up no later than nine. Do you have to leave right after?” Your mouth dropped into a frown.
“We’re waiting on some word about the…” He censored his information even though you already knew about it all. “Trail’s gone cold for a bit.” He tugged the walkie talkie from your belt without asking and brought it to his mouth. Your mouth opened in protest, but he began to speak before you could voice anything. “Sam? You there? Dean, here. Over.”
A few seconds passed. “Dean? What’s up? Over.”
“I think we’re going to need more hours of... investigative journalism after the job. Over.” The smirk on his face and naughtiness in his eyes made your core ache.
Sam cleared his throat over the radio. “I’ll get a room. Over.”
Dean smiled down at you. “Copy that. Over and out.”
*
Never would have thought. Bossy looks damn good on her.
After swallowing down the panic for the first part of the balloon ride and realizing how skilled of a pilot you were, Dean switched into his autopilot mode around a beautiful woman. Flirty, feisty, and all fingers. It was as necessary as breathing for him. And, he missed it. Especially how easy it flowed with you, regardless of the environment. Whether the chaotic energy of the Vegas strip or the sublime floating dream that he was in right now, in the air above Albuquerque. You were the constant he was craving to touch.
Your eyes were shy to hold his gaze one minute, then challenging him in a staring contest the next. You’d roll your eyes at a cheeky joke, then blush at a flirty turn of phrase. And your voice. It was light and airy, not bouncy or super peppy. With just the right amount of conviction and authority when you needed it to be. And those lips. Damn. I gotta find out all the things they can do.
He tested the waters again. Snaked his fingers around your waist and pulled you close. He’d pulled the cap off your head without asking. The questions thrown out were due to his interest but also his wanting to distract you. He needed to get at the skin under that tight sky blue t-shirt. He held back a sigh and clenched his jaw at how warm and welcoming you felt. He thought you might be onto his ulterior motives but were more than willing to go along for the ride.
Turns out you had been ballooning for as long as you could remember, growing up in Colorado. Your parents had been what one would call enthusiasts when it came to hot air balloons. And as their only child, well there was no way you weren’t going to get the balloon bug. Your dad was a pilot, your mom a part of his chase crew. They held balloon rallys, hosted events and it was just another Sunday for you to be up in the Colorado air surrounded by a dozen other balloons.
You’d moved to Albuquerque right after college. Dean smiled when you told him the city you called home was known as the Ballooning Capital of the World. The International Balloon Fiesta was held in the Rio Grande Valley every October. It had been one of the main reasons you settled there. You were geeking out with the facts, explaining more about the intricacies of piloting, talking about balloon glows and mass ascensions, while his grip on you tightened. Goddamn adorable.
Then he asked about what your parents were up to now. A frown replaced his smile, finding out your parents had passed away a year after you moved. They had been on a hunting trip at their cabin in the mountains. Authorities deemed a horrible bear attack had been the cause. That had been eight years ago.
He wanted to ask if that had been the impetus for Bobby telling you so much; if you had mentioned that before his truth spilled out. Bobby knew, had known, loss better than anyone. And, if he knew you had no close family? Well, he was a softie when it came to helping out a lady in distress. Hell, isn’t every hunter that appreciates a pretty woman? But Dean held it in, stared into your eyes, and told you how sorry he was. You gave him a soft peck on the lips in thanks.
You didn’t play when it came to your balloon, Dean learned quickly. You’d found a field to touch down at after a half-hour in the air and radioed to the chase crew. Dean gave you some space to pilot for the all important landing. He watched with great interest at your actions, venting and burning, guiding your baby. He felt a pang in his chest, missing Baby, squirreled away under a tarp in a barn miles away.
You were working with the wind to get to your hoped for spot. Patience. She has a ton of it. Accepting what she can’t control and working with what she’s given to get to her destination. Maybe she needs to give me some lessons.
The four trucks and Sam in the Cougar roared up the nearest road from down below. Headlights bright in a caravan formation. The sky was starting to lighten. Dawn would arrive soon. Got a ride in a fucking hot air balloon with the prettiest pilot there is. Dean smiled at you.
You caught the look on his face with a turn of your head. The balloon was careening downward at a nice clip as you vented. “What?”
“Crash landing?” An eyebrow rose.
“Not if I can help it. But you might want to hold on to something.”
Dean pressed himself to your back, trapping you between his arms as he gripped the edge of the gondola. “This good?”
You cleared your throat and he chuckled.
The chase crew made good time, ejecting from their vehicles to rush over. The gondola swooped down. You tried to keep her parallel to the ground as she propelled forward. Her front end hit first, bouncing like morse code. Dean leaned back like a counterweight. Gabe and Stan caught up to the back end and grabbed a hold, braking and slowing the motion.
Marvin appeared to hold the basket down as well. You pulled the vent open all the way. The fabric of the envelope began to puddle like a discarded dress. Dean spotted Sam grab at the crown line with Gen as they helped to guide it down.
You were directing and ordering again, reminding everyone you didn’t have a lot of time to deflate and pack up to get back to where you had launched. The blush and heat in your cheeks was noted by Dean in silence as the crew pushed out the remaining air in the balloon and folded it up. Dean helped get the gondola back onto one of the trucks and secured all the other equipment. The entire event had exhilarated and lit up all of his senses. He wanted to take you in his arms and kiss that energy all over you. But the crew would only have more questions.
Everyone had hauled collective asses back to the launch site to start the putting up process all over again. Dean rode with Sam, discussing the balloon ride and how much time he thought he’d need alone with you. Sam shook his head and laughed, extolling all of the fun things he’d learned about Gen. There was a lighter feeling in the air of their car. No talk of leviathans or hunts or Lucifer or the loss of Bobby. For a short amount of time, they were two guys comparing notes about pretty girls and having some goddamn fun with a group of people.
When Dean closed the passenger side of the car, he ran to your truck for his next order. He gave you a cheeky salute. “Cremation Charlie, reporting for duty.”
You smiled back, cool and deliberate. Sam slid up to Dean’s side. “I can go and help with the crown line again.” He offered.
“You guys have been great. Really.” You nodded. “But, we’ve got this round. And, after this next part, you’re going to want to head out.”
Dean frowned. “Not leaving yet, sweetheart.” The tone in his voice was insistent.
“Not leaving Albuquerque, yet.” You agreed. Another smile. “You bring that champagne like I asked?”
Dean tilted his head toward the car.
“Grab it.”
He sighed. Sam shrugged and stood his ground. A quick trip to the car and a reach into the open window of the back seat found the bottle. Dean jogged back only to find you and Sam had moved to the rest of the crew, even Cleo, now beside the gondola. The envelope had already been unpacked and unfurled on the ground.
“If you’d be so kind and open that, Dean.” You motioned to the champagne.
Dean fumbled with the wire cage over the cork.
“We have a tradition for first time riders. Sam, even though you didn’t go up, you certainly proved an invaluable part of the crew. So, I think you should get to partake as well.” You continued.
Dean eased the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying pop and a small bit of fizz leaked out, down his hand.
“May I?” You reached for the bottle.
Dean passed it over with a smile.
“On your knees, boys.” You ordered.
The entire crew chuckled at Dean and Sam’s expressions.
You pointed to the ground.
Dean cocked his head to his brother. Sam sighed. They knelt down in unison, staring up at you.
“This is what we call your initiation, a baptism you might say.” The seriousness in your voice made Dean’s eyes narrow as he stared at you. “Let us pray.”
The crew bent their heads. Sam elbowed Dean to do the same. But all he wanted to do was keep his eyes on you. You lifted your eyelids at his gaze and coerced Dean to follow suit with the rest. His grin rose one side of his mouth upward before he gave in.
“Sam and Dean.” Dean spied your sneakers strolling closer, the earth crunching beneath your steps. “May the winds welcome you with softness.” Your voice was low, reverent. “May the sun bless you with its warm hands.” Dean thought back to when it was only the two of you, up in the air, free. “And then set you gently back into the loving arms of Mother Earth.” You finished.
He couldn’t wait to be alone with you again. And, then, Dean felt the cool bubbling liquid pour over his head. Son of a bitch.
*
The entrance bell dinged when you stepped foot in Loyola’s. Your eyes lit up when you chanced upon Dean, sitting in one of the booths, digging into a breakfast burrito at 11:00 am. He waited. The sign by the register encouraged you to seat yourself. You made your way over to the Winchester brother that made your insides somersault.
He glanced up at your approach, looking adorable and sinful at the same time. He chewed with gusto and reverence. To your surprise, he dropped the burrito and bolted out of his seat to stand by the table. It gave you the opportunity to inspect his sturdy frame. The change of clothes confirmed he’d found somewhere to shower. A faded denim button-up draped over his shoulders. Amazingly, you thought he might only be wearing one layer atop the wide span of his chest. He was doing the entire city of Albuquerque a civil service, swaddling those fine bow legs and ass into a tight pair of dark jeans. Do not drool. “Hey.” The dab of a napkin wiped away some scrambled egg from his chin. “You finally made it.” His smile extended from ear to ear.
You gripped the shoulder strap of your bag. The soap scent filled your nostrils. Damn. How did his smile make your mind cease to function? “Yeah. Sorry. Wrap up took longer than expected.” You shrugged. “And, I needed to clean up, too.” You grinned.
“Hm. Well, you didn’t have someone pour champagne all over you. You're lucky I don’t have Baby with me.” He motioned for you to sit.
Your bag hit the bench seat before you slid in across from him. “Baby?”
“All that storytelling and Bobby didn’t mention my pride and joy?”
You frowned, wondering who or what in the hell Baby was.
“My car. Was my Dad’s.” Dean frowned as well.
“Where is it?”
“We had to stash it when the leviathans made those murder Xeroxes of us. They even drove around in an exact copy of my wheels.”
“I’m sorry.” The whole subject matter was surreal; made you feel like you were talking to a sci-fi character from a television show. If that nagging, gnawing suspicion hadn’t been with you for years, you knew you wouldn’t believe a stitch of the yarn Bobby had told you months back. You looked over the laminated menu. You already knew what you’d order. You needed something to distract you from how pretty his green eyes shined in the sunlight streaming through the diner window.
Dean tilted a shoulder a fraction, making you look up. He’d trapped you in that gaze again. “Hopefully, I get to see her again soon.” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “I mean, hey, I got to rendezvous with you again. Things are looking up.” He grinned.
The waitress swung by and took your order, dropping off a glass of water and pouring you a cup of coffee. Dean’s eyes widened when you told her you’d have the Southwest Sizzling Sampler and to please keep the caffeine coming. “What?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow when it was only the two of you.
“Not for nothin’, but a woman with a healthy appetite is kinda hot.” He licked his lips and went back to his plate of food. A finger pointed to his burrito. “Want some?”
You chuckled. “I’m good. Thanks.” You suddenly realized you were down a Winchester. “Where’s Sam?”
Dean gulped down his mouthful. “We got a room at the Tewa lodge. He’s doing some Roman research.”
“Ah. Should I tell Gen of his location?”
A gruff laugh left his throat. “I think Sam beat you to it.”
“I guess research is a big part of the whole hunting thing.” You turned behind you, noting the other patrons within earshot. You recognized Stella from the bookstore. She immediately said hello, chatted you up for some seconds, only to put you more on guard. You turned back to Dean and took a quick swig of your water. You resumed your topic. “So, research?”
He raised a brow and donned a smile variation you hadn’t quite seen from him before. “Yeah. The boring part of hunting. But, necessary. Jobs don’t actually fall into our laps. Not often.” Dean shot into another thought. “Did Bobby give you my new number? At least, the number I had when you made contact with him?”
You shook your head. “He didn’t want to put you in danger. That’s what he said, anyway. In case I really wasn’t who I said I was. He’d done some research of his own on me before calling back. See if the info I left about myself in the voicemail checked out. But, he said, he couldn’t be too careful.”
Dean nodded. “Sounds like Bobby.” His eyes narrowed. “Mind if I test you?”
“Test me? Like multiple choice?”
He plopped a trial sized plastic bottle of mouthwash on the table. But, the cloudy white liquid was most definitely not mouthwash. “Pour some of that on your hand.”
“What?” Your entire body stiffened up on defense. “What is it?”
“Just a household cleaner with Borax in it.” He responded like they were discussing the weather. “If you’re a baddie, it’ll burn you.”
“It could burn me, regardless. Ever read the warning labels on the back?”
“Not skin irritation. Talking, eat your skin away if you’re a leviathan.”
“Jesus.” You shook your head, opened the bottle, placed a stack of napkins from the dispenser under one hand, and then dripped cleaner over your knuckles. You wiggled your fingers and patted away the liquid. “Did I pass?”
He smiled. “Yep. Demon test, too.”
“Huh?”
He secured the cap and snuck the bottle back into his leather jacket resting next to him on the bench. “I snuck some holy water in your glass.”
You ran your tongue along the top of your mouth. “Ew.”
“Can’t be too careful. A lot could have happened since Vegas. And, I would have had to add avenging you to the top of my to do list if those fuckers got to you, too.”
The thought of him extracting violent revenge on your behalf gave you a weird sense of comfort and safety. You smiled.
He smiled back. “Anyway, with the thoughts I’ve been thinking, gotta make sure you’re not going to gank me when we’re alone later. My guard will be down.”
Your mouth dried up. “Are we going to be alone later?”
He nodded with certainty. “Oh yeah. You’re taking me back to your place.”
God, you loved that cocky assuredness. Any other man would come off as a smug bastard. But, there was so much charm covering it up in Dean’s whole being that you couldn’t resist. “Am I?”
“Yep.” Another slight nod. The waitress disrupted your flirting and dropped the plate in front of you. “Wow. That’s beautiful.” Dean commented on the piles of breakfast food.
You rubbed your hands together and shot back. “Fueling up for later.”
He chuckled. “My kinda woman.”
*
He followed you back to your apartment in his Cougar. You were distracted for most of the ten minute ride. Thinking about what he was going to do with that gorgeous body of his; that this was actually happening. Glancing in your rear view mirror at a red light pulled you into a long study of his perfect face. His cocky grin followed a horn tap on his steering wheel when the light turned green. He probably knew you’d been staring. Son of a bitch.
Your palm was a sweaty mess turning the knob of your apartment door. It didn’t help that he was breathing down your neck, looming over you.
Tyrion greeted you with his usual rumbling of purrs. “You have a cat?” Dean queried from behind. He sounded disappointed. You heard the click of the door closing.
You scratched the top of your buddy’s head. Tyrion eyed the new male in the room with a proud tilt up of his long-haired chin and twitchy whiskers. “I do.” You confirmed the obvious.
“I’m allergic.” Dean sighed. At that, Tyrion strolled up to Dean and did a figure eight between his bow legs.
“So am I.” You stated and flung your jacket across the back of your, and Tyrion’s, favorite chair.
“So, you’re a masochist?” Dean chuckled and pinched his nose shut.
“Okay, Ew. First, don’t pull my cat into some sexual kink. Second, I don’t derive gratification from pain and humiliation...”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued and aroused that you actually know what a masochist is…”
You shook your head and forced yourself not to focus on how sexy his voice sounded wrapping around the word aroused. “Third,” you continued, “Tyrion is a Siberian. He’s hypoallergenic. Us cat allergy sufferers can usually tolerate being around this breed.”
“Really?” The genuine surprise on his face went to inspect the furball, plopped onto his back, displaying a belly to Dean for some rubbing.
You nodded. “But, to be on the safe side, I keep him out of my bedroom.”
Dean shot his stare back up at the word bedroom.
You cleared your throat.
He grinned and bent at the knees to give Tyrion a few pats for good measure.
“Want something to drink?” A quick dash around the breakfast bar gave you a chance to escape. You grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and sipped away, trying to cool the burning of your cheeks.
“I’m good.” You heard him respond from the living room. He was still bent down making friends with Tyrion.
You tapped at the bottle with your fingernails and stared at the fridge door and your assortment of magnets. What the hell? What am I supposed to do now?”
“Nice little place.” He leaned against the edge of the breakfast bar. His leather jacket had been discarded.
“Thanks.”
He stuffed his hands into front jean pockets and mosied over like a gunslinger. “Am I gonna have to make the first move again?”
You smiled. “‘Fraid so.”
He stared down at you with a smile. “Something tells me you don’t mind it.”
You shook your head and swallowed down a sigh.
He pulled the bottle from your grasp and dropped it somewhere. Your stomach tumbled in excitement at the grasp of his warm hands around your waist. He lifted you like you weighed a feather and sat you on the bartop, right in front of him. You were almost at perfect eye level. He pried your knees open and wedged into your legs. He was hot and so close, face inches from yours. “I don’t have a lot of time to do everything I want.” His breath snuck into your open mouth. “I’d need days.”
And, then, his lips were pressed into yours again. Firm, decisive, and a little needy. Not quite as needy as yours, returning the want and the build from your alone time up in the air together. He released your lips, kissed along your jaw and cheek. Rubbed his scruff against your skin. Encapsulated your earlobe with a glorious suck between those billowy lips. He ran his tongue against the diamond stud. Moaned a breathy, “Do you taste good everywhere?” into your ear.
You gripped the edge of the breakfast bar. He was making you unsteady, drunk with desire. Your eyes widened. His fingers snapped the button of your jeans open and worked the zipper down.
He broke from his work and stared at your face. “I shouldn’t be having all the fun.” He grinned. “Put your hands on me, sweetheart.”
Your shaky hands lifted off the bartop and rested on the lapels of his denim shirt. You snuck a squeeze at his pecs and he chuckled.
“We good?” You knew he was asking for permission to dip his fingers under your panties. He was currently skimming the band of it, lighting up the skin around your belly button. “Once I start, I’m not stoppin’.”
You nodded. “We’re good.”
His mouth went to your neck, licking, pecking, sucking. He moaned against the skin when his fingertips found your wet warmth. “Damn.”
Your breath hitched with the prodding and searching. He teased the sensitive nub with his thumb, hand sandwiched tight between you and the denim as he cupped your sex. His mouth was at yours now, examining every inch with his tongue.
Senses came back to you in bursts and blips. You undid the buttons of his shirt as he continued his own exploration. Once you’d freed the last button you danced over the ridges and planes of his chest. His body reacted with a twitch when you scraped nails over his perky little nipples. He groaned into your mouth. You moaned when his hand pulled out of your panties. He kissed through his request and stared into your eyes. “How about we go somewhere we can be alone?”
You followed his gaze to the floor where Tyrion was darting between Dean’s legs again. You laughed and nodded. Dean tried his best not to trip over the cat, stepped back, and helped you off the bar. You grabbed his hand, wet with your excitement, and guided him to the bedroom. You couldn’t resist turning back at the sight of him, shirt unbuttoned and peeks of tummy, chest and pecs. There was a tattoo on his chest above his heart that got your attention for a split second. Walking backward, you lost your balance at the hunger in his eyes. He leaned in, pressed you into the bedroom door, then tumbled you both through after fumbling at the knob. Once inside, he flung the door shut with a kick of his boot heel.
He wasted no time, grabbing at the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it up. He cursed and gave it a firm tug when it caught on your chin to release you from the confines. The giggle from you was more to calm your unease of what he was actually capable of when he put his mind to it. The strength behind his movements was unquestionable. He quashed the sounds of your laugh with his mouth, gulping down the vibrations leaving your throat. He was literally taking your breath away.
Fingers squeezed at the bra cups, finding taut nubs and rubbing over the fabric in circles. He guided you down onto the bed with the push of his mouth. His arms were around you in an instant, cushioning your fall onto the mattress. He leaned above, one knee between your legs, all smiles. “Never done it with a pilot before.” His knee settled against the warmth and rubbed you through the layers.
You lifted up on your elbows and leaned up to suck at his bottom lip. It provided him the opportunity to unclasp your bra. You released his lip and fell back on the bed. “Never done it with a monster hunter before.”
He removed your bra. His eyes widened and he licked his lips. “I guess we’re both in for a treat.”
God, his mouth. The way it worked over each inch of your body. He talked about not having enough time but seemed in no hurry to get on with the actual task of fucking. At least not with the package you had yet to unwrap. But, you got a hint of what he was working with at the bulge tenting his jeans.
His tongue lolled about the dip in your neck, your collar bone. He nipped and tugged at your flesh. Circled your nipples, sucked and tweaked them into bliss. Stoking the heat in your core and readying you.
He slipped out of his shirt like a snakeskin, slithering down, peeling your pants and panties down to your calves. He popped off your canvas shoes, finished your disrobing, and then stood to take you in, completely naked.
It was the middle of the day. Sunlight crept into your bedroom through sheer curtains. Any other man, any other time, you would have covered up in embarrassment. But, you let him take you in so you could do the same. The creamy, bronze kissed skin of his chest made you ache. The scars all had some history behind them. Dappling of freckles here and there ground him into some sort of reality; confirmed he was in fact human and not some god, come to earth to ruin anyone he touched for anyone else.
He bent down, forced you to maintain eye contact. His tongue flicked out and teased your folds. He savored the taste, smiled, then went to work on you. He talked you through everything he was doing and was planning to do to you. Stopped talking long enough to follow through on his promises. His fingers found that spot deep inside he said would make you crumble for him, come for him, into his mouth. And, you did. Twice. Cause that’s what he said he’d make you do.
You were panting, trying to catch your breath when he rose up and fished his wallet from his back pocket. He tossed a foil wrapper alongside you on the sheets. “Gonna feel so good inside you.” He murmured, taking off his jeans.
“Shit.” You gasped when you finally saw all of him.
He smiled in pride. “Thank you.”
“Dean, I…”
He nodded. “I can already tell it’s gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart.” He bent down and kissed your lips. “We’ll get there. Trust me. Gonna be so much fun getting there.”
He snatched the wrapper, ripped it open, and worked the condom over his hard length. He slid over your body, capturing you between those muscled forearms and kissed you in languid waves.
And, then, he was pushing against your entrance. Steadying atop of you on one forearm while his other hand assisted, seeking a way to penetrate. His held breath released, slow, when he finally breached and made some headway inside.
“Goddamn.” He settled in, listened to your moans. “Alright, sweetheart?”
You nodded and tried to control your breathing. The searing and stretch of him in you was like nothing you’d experienced. “You’re amazing.”
He smiled and kissed your chin. “You’re awesome.”
*
You made him work hard that afternoon. And he loved every second of it.
He’d come down from the high of his second orgasm a half hour ago. He thought maybe it had been your fourth, but he wasn’t going to ask. You snuggled into his side, the both of you now under the covers, dozing in and out. Tyrion, on occasion, would scratch and meow on the other side of the closed bedroom door. He played with your hair, delaying the inevitable for as long as he could.
You spoke first. “Have a clue where you’re headed next?”
“Uh-uh. We’ve got someone trying to help track Roman. But…” He pinched his nose, “Wild goose chase. Who knows? Maybe Sam will have something when I get back.”
He felt your fingers trace over his anti-possession tattoo. “Dean?”
“Hm?” He was ready for you to ask for details on his tat.
“Do you and Sam ever go on those run of the mill hunts anymore? Or is it all leviathans and angels and demons now?”
He smiled. “All the time. I kind of look forward to a simple ghost hunt every now and then.”
“Do hunters have cold cases they work on?”
“Sometimes. Why?” You felt so good in his arms. Like you fit just right.
Your head lifted up. Your eyes stared into his. “My parents…” Your voice trailed off. “I’ve always had this feeling. The way they died. It didn’t seem…”
It was all you had to say. His arms wrapped you up tight. “How about once Sammy and I take care of these leviathans, I come back and we figure out what happened. Together. Supernatural or not, we get you some answers.”
He wiped a tear from your cheek. You nodded, burying your head back against his chest.
For another hour, Dean closed his eyes and drifted away. In that tiny one-bedroom apartment of yours in Albuquerque that felt like something he could call home. With you.
Sam could wait. The work he had to do on the road could wait. The inevitable sacrifice he’d have to make, again, could wait.
What he wanted, what he wished for, what he dreamed was to be up in the air with you again. In your Baby.
And let you pilot them wherever the wind would lead you both.
THE END
MASTERLIST
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester smut#spnfanficpond#dean x reader#dean winchester pov
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The Secret Santa OT3 fic that got way out of hand
@artmayhem
Arthur’s world was pain and confusion. He’d been dreaming…No, it had to have been a nightmare. That couldn’t have happened. Lewis would never do something like that. It was just…impossible. Like rain falling up.
Little by little, he started to hear and become aware. He could hear…familiar voices. He knew them but couldn’t quite identify them. A woman’s voice that made his heart smile. A man’s voice that made him feel safe. Another man’s voice that made him want to cry. And…who did that last voice belong to?
It took a bit longer, but he started to hear a bit more. They were whispering. And shouting. And it had to do with…murder?
Oh, no no no no. He couldn’t lose anyone else. He forced his eyes open.
There was Vivi, standing over him like she was trying to shield him with her body. She looked furious, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. There was a bandage on her face. Lance was next to her, looking just as furious and like he wanted to shoot something but couldn’t because he’d had his gun taken away. They were both looking at something…on the other side of the room. Arthur laboriously turned his head to see what had both of their attention…
…And found himself staring into the eyes of Lewis. Except they weren’t Lewis’ eyes. They were the eyes of the ghost that had tried to kill them. But it was Lewis. So why…
And suddenly everything snapped into place.
Tall with broad shoulders.
Silly pompadour.
Deep voice.
Purple and pink.
The ghost that wanted them dead…was…was Lewis?
It wasn’t a nightmare.
Arthur’s world suddenly snapped into sharp focus as he realized that he was in a room with someone who wanted him dead. He screamed and somehow managed to push himself away despite missing his arm.
He fell off the bed, and his body was on fire! He gasped in pain and panic and there was shouting and he was breathing fast but he couldn’t breathe-
Blacking out was practically a relief.
The next time Arthur woke up he had a much easier time thinking. He had the familiar haze of painkillers, but he could tell he was in a hospital this time. Now that he could remember what happened (Oh my God! Lewis had dropped him off a cliff!), Arthur realized he’d been injured pretty badly and may have almost died. He didn’t feel too awful though…He had all his remaining limbs and could move them. His left shoulder and back felt pretty bad though. He looked around as much as he could without moving his head. Vivi and Lewis (Why?) weren’t around, but Lance was. He’d probably seen Arthur open his eyes so Arthur just turned to meet his gaze. “Hi Uncle Lance.”
Lance seemed to relax a little. “Hey Arthur. How’re you feeling?”
“Loopy.” He hated pain medicine. “Achey. Not as bad as when I lost my arm.”
“That’s…well, it’s not bad, but I wouldn’t say it’s good either,” said Lance. He paused for a moment, giving Arthur a concerned look. “How much do you remember?”
“Lewis is…” Dead, dead, dead. “He dropped me off a cliff,” he finally said, trying very hard not to cry.
Lance nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” snarled Lance.
Arthur gave Lance a surprised look. Lance had always been pretty fond of Lewis so hearing him talk about Lewis in that tone of voice was rather jarring even if it wasn’t surprising. “Where-where is he? And Vivi? And Mystery? They were here before.”
“We kicked Lewis out,” said Lance matter-of-factly. “Vivi’s family showed up a while ago. Her father said they had some family stuff to talk about. I’m guessing it had something to do with that sword and the tree lady.”
Arthur blinked. “Tree lady?”
“…” Lance sighed. “Right. You were out for that. A tree lady showed up and tried to kill Mystery and Vivi.”
“Why?” Arthur was trying to figure out if they’d ever done anything to piss off a tree or the like but nothing was coming to mind.
“Something to do with Mystery not being a dog.”
Arthur made a face. “What else would he be?”
“Vivi called him something. Can’t remember what,” admitted Lance. “Some sort of fox with a bunch of tails.”
Thanks to being friends with Vivi and Lewis (and watching anime) Arthur realized Lance was talking about a kitsune. “But kitsune are scared of dogs!” Why that popped out, Arthur had no idea. Lance looked just as confused and shrugged. Arthur groaned. “It sounds like Vivi and I need to have a talk.” Preferably in private if it involved things like magic and ghosts. “Do you know when I’m going to be released? I don’t feel as bad as last time…” But he had been dropped off a cliff…Wait. There had been stalagmites. “How am I not dead?”
“Ah, your shoulder was all torn up, but your implant was too tough for the spikes to go through. It sort of deflected you so you missed the others, but your port got caught and torn off,” explained Lance.
“Oh shit.” Arthur’s remaining hand went to his shoulder where the port was connected. “Were they able to reconnect it? Was my shoulder or the implants damaged? Do I need to keep my arm off?”
“They reconnected the port and replaced the implants. You’ll probably need to keep the arm off,” answered Lance. “It’ll need time to heal. The good news is that you should be able to get out as soon as the doctor is able to get a look at you.”
“That’s a relief,” sighed Arthur. Being reminded of the time he’d spent in the hospital last time made him feel sick. “I can live without an arm for a few weeks.”
Lance nodded. “Good. Remember. It’s only for a little while.”
Arthur nodded in thought. This was all a lot to take in. Still, at least Lewis was back. He was…messed up, but that sometimes happened with new ghosts. He was sure he and Vivi would be able to help him recover so that he thought like a normal person…
But what made Lewis want to kill them anyway? They’d all been friends. Even if Lewis had been confused and delusional while getting used to being a ghost, he should recognize that. Maybe he’d been upset about being left behind? That was all Arthur could come up with, and it seemed like a reasonable thing to be upset about.
Arthur certainly wouldn’t want his body rotting and possibly getting eaten by coyotes somewhere.
Well, they could look after Lewis and his body now…And thinking about the fact that Lewis was dead with his body cold and motionless somewhere was really starting to depress Arthur. Should he maybe try to talk to Lewis?
The memory of Lewis looking at him with ruthless contempt and hatred before dropping him flashed into his mind. He inhaled sharply.
“You okay?” asked Lance.
Arthur nodded. “Y-yeah.” He swallowed. “Just thinking…remembering. I think it’s gonna be a few weeks before I can talk to Lewis.”
And something flashed across Lance’s face too quickly for Arthur to properly identify what it was. “That’s fine,” said Lance.
Arthur wondered if he should push it but decided not to. Lance isn’t someone you want to push.
When Arthur is released two hours later, Vivi and Mystery are waiting outside with his van. She let out a rush of air as she ran up and gave him a less-crushing-than-usual hug. “Arthur! Thank God!”
Arthur smiled and gave her a one-armed hug. “Hey Vivi. How’re you and Mystery? You got whacked pretty hard by that bat…” he trailed off as he noticed bandages on her face and hand. “Oh man, did you get cut up in the crash?”
“No, that was the crazy tree lady,” explained Vivi. “Tried to cut my head off.”
“What?!”
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, get in, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
The three climbed in, Vivi driving for once and Mystery flopping onto Arthur’s lap. Arthur studied Mystery curiously. “So…you’re a kitsune?”
“Yes,” said Mystery.
Arthur stared at Mystery in shock, less from the confirmation and more from the fact Mystery just spoke English. “And you can talk?”
“Yes.”
And Arthur connected a couple of dots. “Do you know how Lewis died?”
Vivi slammed onto the breaks. Arthur immediately panics because he completely forgot about Vivi and her not being able to hear about Lewis, but she turns to him with a panicked look on her face. “He wasn’t there!”
Arthur blinked. “Wait. You didn’t-You got your memories back?!”
Vivi turned away from Arthur and started driving again. “Yeah.”
Arthur felt a grin spread across his face. “That’s great!”
“Yeah.”
“We can talk about anything now!” said Arthur. “Oh! How’s Lewis doing?”
“I don’t know,” said Vivi.
Arthur blinked. “You don’t-You’re still upset about him trying to kill us, aren’t you?” Vivi’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I’m…upset too. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk to him for a while,” admitted Arthur.
“You shouldn’t talk to him at all!” shouted Vivi.
Arthur gave her a surprised look. “Where did that come from?”
“He dropped you off a cliff!” shouted Vivi. “The only reason you’re not dead is because the stalagmite hit that plate in your shoulder!”
“I-I forgot about the stalagmites,” muttered Arthur. Now he can’t stop thinking about that. “Okay, no talking to Lewis.”
Vivi must be really angry if she doesn’t want to talk to Lewis. Maybe Arthur should give her a few days to calm down.
When they got to the garage, Vivi made it clear she and Mystery were staying for the night. Arthur didn’t argue. He wanted Vivi and Lance nearby after everything that had happened.
There was something depressing about how he didn’t want Lewis around right now.
Arthur was still sore from the injury and tired and loopy from the medication so they just sat on the couch with a blanket covering them for most of the day, even eating on the couch. It was the least Arthur had done in months…He was actually a bit antsy sitting still like this after spending so much time trying to figure out what happened to Lewis.
Oh wait.
“Vivi, this might be a bit random, but how did Lewis die and I lose my arm?” asked Arthur.
“I don’t remember,” said Vivi.
Arthur blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. So your memory…” He thought she’d gotten it back.
Vivi gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, no, everything else is fine. It’s just that night I can’t remember.”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief. “You had me worried for a moment there…Although if it was bad enough to make Lewis a ghost maybe it’s better we don’t remember,” he admitted as much as it grated him to admit it. “Still, I’d like to know what happened.” He looked down at Mystery, who was lying across their laps. “I don’t suppose you saw what happened?”
“Of course he didn’t,” said Vivi. “He was with me the whole time.”
Arthur blinked. “Oh. Okay.” That didn’t sound right though. If Mystery had been with Vivi, he’d have seen everything Vivi did. Vivi’s memory loss had something to do with what had happened. Mystery hadn’t had any memory loss, right? So…either nothing happened with Vivi (Which made no sense. Her eyes literally glowed.) or Mystery hadn’t actually been with her.
Why were they lying to him?
No. Not both of them. Mystery hadn’t actually been doing a lot of talking (Force of habit?). It was Vivi who was giving all the explanations. So if he was able to talk to Mystery without Vivi around…
Easier said than done. Vivi wasn’t leaving his side.
So Arthur just continued to sit there and stroke Mystery and joke with Vivi and watch the silly cartoons playing today.
It was…nice…but sad. It still felt like something important was missing.
Eventually, it was starting to get late. Lance went to pick up some pizza, including Surf’s Up Surprise. No one felt like cooking.
When Lance got home, Vivi got off the couch to give him a hand. “Want anything to drink?”
“Just some soda, thanks,” said Arthur.
“What would you like Mystery?”
“Meat lover’s pizza.” Mystery licked his mouth. “I’d like tea if Lance has any. If not, just water for me, thanks.”
Vivi nodded. “Be back in a minute.” She walked over to the kitchen. It wasn’t really that far away. Arthur could get over there and back just fine, even with the pain starting to work its way through the medicine.
He bit his lip. He was gonna feel bad about going behind Vivi’s back like this. “Mystery,” he whispered. “Do you know what happened when Lewis died?”
“Yes,” Mystery whispered back.
That hurt. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Vivi made me promise not to tell you, and kitsune can’t break promises,” explained Mystery.
Arthur bit his lip. So Vivi did know and just didn’t want to tell him for some reason. That hurt.
“But Lance and Lewis know too,” whispered Mystery. “I’m not sure if either of them will tell you, but it’s worth a try.”
Arthur nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
And that was when Vivi got back. “Here’s your gross fish pizza.” Mystery jumped off Arthur’s lap so she could put the plate there. “And your meaty pizza,” she said, putting several plates in front of Mystery, who immediately dug in. “And my supreme pizza.” She flopped down next to Arthur.
Arthur chewed his pizza thoughtfully. “You know…This explains why Mystery can eat stuff dogs aren’t normally supposed to eat. Do you even have any dietary restrictions?”
Mystery licked his lips. “Nope. I actually have a wider range of foods than humans. I just stick to human food because it’s so much tastier.” And with that he went back to eating his pizza.
Arthur hummed in thought. “Actually, why do you disguise yourself as a dog? I thought kitsune were supposed to be scared of dogs…”
“Yes, exactly. I didn’t want anyone to think I was a kitsune, and most people with experience looking for kitsune are aware that we are typically scared of dogs. Pretending to be one would convince most that I’m something else,” explained Mystery. “Also, considering my power level, it seemed kind of silly to be scared of dogs so I decided to get over that fear, and turning into what frightened me seemed like a good way to work on it. It took a while, but eventually it stopped bothering me.” He grinned. “Not to mention the perks that come with being a dog. They knew what they were doing when they let you domesticate them.”
Vivi snorted. “Right, ‘cause you love to be lazy, eat all the food, and get belly rubs.”
“And now I’m wondering who was actually behind all of that,” muttered Arthur. “So, how many tails do you have? It sounds like you’ve been around for a while.”
“Oh, bit of a story there. I used to have nine tails.”
Wow, so Mystery was really old.
“But I made a few bad choices,” continued Mystery. “I ended up having several of my tails cut off and lost the power that came with them.”
“That can happen?” questioned Arthur.
“Yes, fortunately she didn’t get my original tail so I was able to survive and escape with the help of Vivi’s ancestor, who I swore loyalty to as thanks,” continued Mystery. “I’ve been with her family ever since.”
“Still can’t believe I didn’t notice,” muttered Vivi.
“Don’t feel too bad. I’ve gotten pretty good at hiding it,” said Mystery.
“You wear glasses and have a spiky hairdo!” protested Vivi. “How did I not think that was strange?!”
“You know. She has a point,” admitted Arthur. “How did none of us think that was odd? Other dogs don’t wear glasses…”
Mystery chuckled. “I may only have 7 tails, but I still retain the knowledge and tricks I’ve learned over the centuries.”
That made some sense. It was sort of like when Arthur had lost his arm. He’d still had the knowledge to build and repair things. It was just a bit more difficult to do those things until he had gotten his prosthetic attached. “So, you’ll always be around then?”
Mystery nodded. “Unless the Yukinos die out, but I’ll do everything in my power to prevent that.”
“And there are other Yukinos,” admitted Vivi. “I think Mystery just sticks with the ones that decide to go into paranormal investigation. He belonged to Grandmother before me, and she was a priestess. Dad wasn’t interested in that sort of thing so Mystery skipped him as an owner, er, partner? I’m not sure how to describe this.”
“I’d prefer you not refer to yourself as my owner, although I admit that it might be necessary to do so to keep up the illusion,” admitted Mystery. “Other than that, I don’t care too much about how you refer to our relationship. Although I would like to be considered your friend.”
That’s a bit of a relief if Arthur is being honest. He knows that kitsune can become powerful enough that humans can seem…he guesses the best word for it is insignificant. They don’t live as long, they’re not particularly strong, and probably seem pretty foolish at times. Sort of like a silly pet mouse. Given some of the stories Vivi’s told him, he doesn’t think all kitsune share Mystery’s opinion. “I’m happy to be friends.” Mystery flinched. Arthur wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been in contact with Mystery. Arthur frowned. “You okay?”
“It’s nothing,” said Vivi. “He just feels bad about hiding it from us for so long.”
“…Yeah, I can see why that would be upsetting,” admitted Arthur. “Why didn’t you tell us anyway? It seems like it would be pretty easy to prove.”
“I still had enemies that I would have attracted to us. Pretending to be a dog isn’t just convenient. It hides my energy and power so that I can’t be tracked, and there are entities that wanted to find me and would have hurt or even killed you if they succeeded.”
“Like whoever cut off your tails?” asked Arthur. “That’s someone I wouldn’t want to run into.” For some reason that sent Mystery and Vivi into a giggle fit. “Am I missing something?”
“You ran her over with the van,” explained Mystery.
Arthur abruptly recalled the mad dash away from Lewis’ horrible semi-truck. “Holy crap! I completely forgot that we hit someone! Oh, wait, she attacked us.” Arthur paused. “I think it was a ‘she’ anyway. Was that a tree growing out of her head?”
“Yes, she was a jubokko, a type of tree yokai that feeds on blood,” explained Mystery. “It’s…complicated. I’d rather not talk about my past with her.”
Arthur could understand that, and he was pretty sure she didn’t have anything to do with the original injuries so he let it drop. “Is she going to come back?”
“No.” Mystery grinned. “I took back my blood from her, and that is what gave her life in the first place.”
“Oh, that’s…good to know.” Spirit rules. So complicated.
Arthur fell asleep at some point and slept the whole night. He woke up on the couch with Vivi leaning against him. He felt a bit sore from sleeping on the couch, and he had phantom pains that he didn’t know how he’d slept through, but he felt more rested than he had in months. He glanced at Vivi, debated for a moment, and decided to shake her awake. “Huh, wha-what is it?”
“I need my pain medication,” grit out Arthur.
Vivi shot up. “Oh! Right! Want me to get it for you?”
Arthur shook his head. “Nah. It’ll work better if I eat something with it. Let’s eat breakfast.” He paused. “In the kitchen. Not out here.”
Vivi smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”
It was just cereal since they still didn’t feel like cooking. “You should try to go to work today,” said Arthur. “Duet’s pretty lenient, but I don’t think she’ll be happy about you taking even more time off.”
Vivi bit her lip. “I don’t know. You almost died…”
Arthur smiled. She’d been like this last time too, staying at his place, worrying over his health, trying to do everything for him. She’d been overprotective and overbearing, but he understood why. He’d have done the same if it was Vivi who’d lost an arm and nearly bled to death. Still, he wasn’t nearly as bad off this time, and he knew how to do his daily tasks with only one arm now. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t like last time. Heck, I’m thinking of going back to work today too.”
Vivi gave him an annoyed look. “You just had surgery. You should be resting.”
“Yeah, I won’t work a full day, and I won’t do anything too difficult. Mostly secretary work, some oil changes, the like.” Vivi still looked unsure. “C’mon, there’s no way Uncle Lance will let me do anything that might make things worse.”
Vivi nodded. “Right.” If there was one person who was as concerned for Arthur’s health as her, it was Lance. “You’re right. We need to get back to our normal schedules…or at least as much as we can.”
Arthur frowned. “Yeah.” Lewis was a ghost. Nothing would ever be normal again. “Yeah, I think I’ve been putting that off for longer than I should.” And Heaven help him, but the smile Vivi gave him made him feel even better than the medicine.
Arthur really did stick to secretary stuff for most of the day. He’d figured out how to do most repairs and maintenance stuff with one arm, but it could be tricky and more physically demanding.
That being said, Arthur really wanted to get back in the garage, so he called dibs on anyone who came needing a battery or oil change. Tire changes took enough physical effort that he’d save them for once he was feeling better.
And being in the garage would give him a chance to talk to Lance. “Uncle Lance?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know what happened when I lost my arm?”
Lance paused for a moment. “Yeah.”
“Will you tell me?”
“No.”
Arthur huffed. “Why not? What is going on?”
“You have enough problems as it is,” said Lance. “I’m not adding to that burden. Just let it go. Please.”
Oh no. It was bad if Lance said please. “Okay. I won’t ask you again,” promised Arthur.
There was still Lewis after all.
Actually talking to Lewis was easier said than done. Arthur was still having some nightmares about Lewis looking at him the way he had and dropping him and all the other attempts and…
Yeah, Arthur wasn’t sure he was ready to face Lewis yet. Maybe one day, but not now.
But talking over the phone should be okay!
That was the plan anyway. Except he was still getting that out of service message whenever he tried to call Lewis.
…
Lewis’ phone must’ve been busted when he…died. Actually, could Lewis even use a phone anymore? Arthur was pretty sure Lewis had something to do with the malfunctions his van and arm had experienced, and other ghosts had messed with their electronics before.
So…Arthur would have to call a different Pepper. Should he call Mr. or Mrs. Pepper? Or…
Well, there was one more option that might know what happened. Arthur dialed the number and waited while the phone rang.
“Arthur!”
Arthur smiled. “Hi Belle.”
“I heard about what happened! Are you okay?!”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I’m…well, I’m injured and a bit traumatized, but it’s not nearly as bad as last time. I just have to let my shoulder heal for a few weeks before I reattach my prosthetic.”
“That’s good.”
“So, how are you guys doing? How…How’s Lewis doing?”
Belle was silent. “He’s grounded.”
Arthur blinked. “He’s 21.”
“Well, he’s a ghost. He can’t rent his own apartment, and Mom and Dad were pretty upset with him.”
“But you’re okay with him being…you know?”
“We’re not happy about him being dead,” said Belle. “But he’s still here so it’s not as bad as it could be. Paprika’s kind of scared of him because of how he looks though.”
Arthur laughed nervously. “Yeah, he can be pretty scary looking, huh?”
“Cayenne thinks he looks pretty cool though so she keeps him company,” continued Belle. “I…I know that he’s changed. He’s not as happy. But maybe he’ll go back to how he was before?”
Arthur winced. “I’m not sure. He did die. That had to be traumatic, and trauma can change a person.”
“Yeah…”
“But how is Lewis doing? I…I wasn’t conscious to see what happened, but it sounds like he’s calmed down.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t seem like a rage ghost. Actually, he’s been kind of emo, locking himself in his room most of the day.”
“Oh, wow, that’s bad.”
“He feels bad about what happened,” said Belle. “And he’s kind of beating himself up over everything he did.”
“About that. Did Lewis ever say why he was trying to kill us?”
Belle was silent for a moment. “You don’t know?”
“No. I’m pretty sure Vivi and Uncle Lance know, but they won’t tell me for some reason. It’s actually starting to freak me out a little.”
“Um, well, Mom and Dad did tell me, but we don’t really want Cayenne and Paprika to find out,” explained Belle.
Arthur winced. “Wow, was it really that bad?”
“Yeah. Did Lewis zap your memory too?”
“Wait. ‘Too’. As in he zapped someone’s memory?”
“Um…”
“Is that what happened to Vivi?!”
“Um…Yeah, Lewis said she saw him die and he didn’t want her to see that and did something, but he didn’t know he did it until he realized she didn’t recognize him,” explained Belle. “He managed to fix it. Maybe he could fix yours too.”
“I don’t think my memory loss is magic,” said Arthur. “I lost a lot of blood when I lost my arm, and that can cause just enough brain damage to retain all the normal functions but permanently lose recently recorded events.” Besides, if Lewis had caused the Arthur’s memory loss, wouldn’t he have reacted the same way as Vivi? “Although I guess he could sort of cure me by telling me what happened. I’m kind of nervous about seeing him again though…I tried calling him, but I guess he messes with electronics?”
“Actually, Mom and Dad took his phone privileges away,” said Belle. “They said he could have them back once he proved he could be reasonable and responsible.”
“So, he isn’t messing with electronics?”
“I think it depends on how he feels. He’s been watching the TV just fine most of the time, but sometimes he’ll get upset and the TV goes all fuzzy until someone hits it,” explained Belle.
“That’s good to know.” Now that Arthur thought about it, his arm had functioned fine in that haunted mansion.
…
Where did Lewis even get a haunted mansion?
“So, uh, do you want me to tell you what happened?” asked Belle. “I might be missing a few of the details, but I got the main gist of it.”
Arthur opened his mouth to say ‘yes’ but found himself stopping. “I feel conflicted.”
“Uh, so you don’t want me to tell you?”
“I want to know, but I feel like I shouldn’t hear it from you, which is really frustrating because clearly something horrible and important happened that everyone is hiding from me for some reason!” rambled Arthur.
“Well, I kind of understand why they don’t wanna tell you,” admitted Belle. “But why wouldn’t you want me to tell you?”
“I have no idea!” Arthur thought for a moment. “Did you have any questions after you were told?”
“A lot. Most of them haven’t been answered.” Belle paused. “By the way, were you feeling some sort of emotional turmoil when all that happened?”
“I can’t say for sure. Probably. I’m usually freaking out pretty badly during the investigation.” Plus his general feeling of being left out and longing and jealousy. He didn’t want to talk about that with Belle. Oh. “I think I just figured it out.”
“You did?!”
“There’s a lot of personal feelings involved that I’m not comfortable talking about at all, but if I have to I would prefer to only say it to the people it involves,” explained Arthur. He sighed “Which means I’ll have to talk to Lewis.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“No. I guess I’ll have to make myself be okay with it then,” said Arthur.
“Uh…How does that work?”
Arthur paused. “I guess I’ll stare at pictures of Lewis until I stop panicking.”
“Will that work?” asked Belle.
“I don’t know. I gotta try something!” Arthur groaned. “Why does this all have to be so complicated?”
“Because you guys run around hunting ghosts?” suggested Belle.
“…Yeah, that’s probably it,” admitted Arthur. “So, I’ll see you soon, hopefully.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” agreed Belle. “…We miss you.”
Arthur winced. He’d been avoiding the Peppers. It was…painful seeing them without Lewis around. “Yeah, soon. I promise.” He ended the call.
So, now he had to learn to not be scared of Lewis. Easier said than done.
The next couple of weeks were spent recovering enough to work full time in the garage again, hanging out with Vivi and Mystery while watching a lot of sci-fi. Arthur actually had to suggest a couple of scary movies to break things up a bit.
Vivi and Mystery were actually spending a lot more time with him than they had last time he was injured. Nice as it was, this meant that Vivi wasn’t trying to talk to Lewis.
Arthur knew what it felt like to be left out like that, and that was what pushed him to go to the Pepper house a little over three weeks after the incident.
Not that it was going well. He was just starting at the door, willing himself to knock on the door or ring the doorbell, but then he’d think about Lewis answering the door and freeze up.
Maybe he wasn’t quite ready for this.
Then the choice was taken out of his hands by the door opening. Thankfully, it wasn’t Lewis that opened it. “Hi Mrs. Pepper.”
Mrs. Pepper sighed. “Hello Arthur. It’s nice to see you are doing well.”
“Yeah, you too, and I, um, kind of wanted to ask Lewis something. Is he home?”
Mrs. Pepper nodded. ��He’s still grounded. We said he could go back to working at Pepper Paradiso in the kitchen, but he’s having some trouble making himself look human so he prefers to stay home.”
“Oh, wow, that’s not good.” Lewis loved cooking. He only refused to do it when he was really upset. “Can I see him?”
Mrs. Pepper hesitated for a moment. “If you’re both up to it.”
“I’m not sure I am,” admitted Arthur. “But I want to try.”
“All right.” Mrs. Pepper moved aside so Arthur could come into the house. “Lewis! Arthur’s here!”
“What?!” Lewis appeared at the top of the stairs. Arthur winced. Lewis was still in his suit, but had his face instead of the skull. Thankfully, Lewis looked more shocked than anything else so Arthur didn’t get a flashback. “Arthur, what-what are you doing here?”
Arthur took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”
“Right, I, uh, let me come down-”
“In private. I…I think this needs to be a private conversation,” interrupted Arthur.
Lewis looked nervous. “I could…soundproof my room?”
He could do that? “Yeah, that sounds good,” agreed Arthur.
“I’ll check on you two in half an hour,” said Mrs. Pepper. That got a wince from both Arthur and Lewis. She used to be willing to leave them alone for hours…
Still, they went to the room, and Lewis did something that caused everything to get a purple tone. Arthur poked at the wall curiously. “Huh, does this have something to do with that haunted mansion you were in before?”
“Yeah, I, uh, made that,” admitted Lewis.
“That’s pretty impressive,” complimented Arthur. Lewis was a pretty powerful ghost to pull something like that off. “But why did you do that instead of coming to Tempo?”
“Because I wanted to scare you,” admitted Lewis. He closed his eyes. “I wanted to hurt you. I knew that everyone else would disprove, but I still wanted to because I thought I knew better than them.”
“Right, um, that’s what I wanted to talk about…sort of. What happened that made you want to kill us so much?” asked Arthur. “I know it must have been something bad, but-”
“Wait,” interrupted Lewis. “You thought I was trying to kill all three of you?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, you stopped all of us in front of your mansion and then tried to attack and blow us up. And you ran us off the road and down a cliff.”
Lewis covered his mouth, looking ill and muttering something under his breath. “That-I, uh, wasn’t thinking things all the way through. I didn’t want to hurt Vivi and Mystery. Just you.”
What? Arthur suddenly didn’t feel nervous and scared now. He just felt numb and a bit sick. It took a few minutes for him to find his voice. “Why?”
“I thought you killed me,” admitted Lewis.
“I could never do that,” Arthur immediately responded. “Why would you think I would do something like that?”
“You really don’t remember?” asked Lewis. When Arthur shook his head, Lewis handed him the golden heart that was always floating in front of his chest. “Maybe this will help.”
Arthur stared at it in confusion before realizing that it could be opened. Inside was a picture of Lewis and Vivi hugging each other with smiles on their faces. All it did was make Arthur feel depressed. “Is this supposed to be doing something?”
Lewis looked a bit surprised. “I don’t get it. This fixed Vivi’s memories.”
Arthur let out a hysterical giggle. “That-I’m missing my memories because I nearly died from massive blood loss and spent a week in a coma!” Seriously, just because they were ghost hunters didn’t mean everything had a supernatural explanation. “I could barely move when I woke up! How the Hell could I have hurt you?!”
Lewis just stared at him. “You really don’t know.”
“Of course I don’t! I wouldn’t be this frustrated and upset if I did!” complained Arthur.
Lewis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, okay, I can-I’ll tell you, but neither of us is going to like it.”
“I can already tell,” muttered Arthur.
“So, we went to investigate a haunted cave,” started Lewis. “Very creepy. Opening looked like a monster face, and there was green mist all over the place.”
Arthur nodded. Sounded like the sort of place Vivi would love to visit.
“You wanted nothing to do with it, but we convinced you to go inside.”
That was typical too.
“And we came to a fork in the cave and decided to split up. Vivi went to the lower level with Mystery. We went to the upper level.”
“Why?”
“Well, we thought it would be faster that way,” said Lewis.
“No, I mean why did we split up like that. After you and Vivi started dating you two always paired up when we had to split up. So why did you suddenly change it this time?” pressed Arthur.
Lewis’ face turned sort of purple and see through enough for Arthur to just be able to see the skull underneath. “Well, you were really scared, and we felt like we might have been leaving you out of things a little too much.”
Arthur had felt left out. It had felt like he only saw them on ghost hunts in the weeks leading up to whatever had happened. The split up still seemed to come out of nowhere though. “Okay, I’ll buy that.” He supposed the why wasn’t that important in this case. “And then what happened?”
“We followed the path up to a cliff that was pretty high up.” Lewis swallowed. “There-there were stalagmites.”
Arthur gripped at his pants. He could tell they were getting close to the point where Lewis died.
“And I wanted to see if I could see Vivi, but I couldn’t, and you made a sound, and I turned, and your hand was on my chest-”
What?
“And you pushed me and-”
“You’re lying,” interrupted Arthur.
Lewis blinked. “Huh?”
“You’re lying,” repeated Arthur, glaring at Lewis. “I would have never hurt you, much less-” Arthur stood. “If you’re not going to tell me then I’ll just ask your parents or Belle.”
Lewis stood. “Whoa! Wait! Don’t! It wasn’t you!”
“You just said it was!” Arthur reached for the door.
“You were possessed!”
Arthur paused for a moment. He turned back towards Lewis. “Possessed?”
“There was a demon in the cave,” Lewis rapidly explained. “You were freaking out pretty badly, which let it possess you, and it used your body to…kill me.”
That…That was awful, but Arthur could admit it made more sense than him wanting to kill one of the people he loved. “If I was possessed, then why would you want to kill me?”
“I didn’t know you were possessed, okay?!” said Lewis. “I just remember seeing you grinning and pushing me! I didn’t know about you being possessed until the demon showed up and possessed you again!”
“Again? It happened twice?!”
Lewis blinked. “Uh, yeah, when I…dropped you. It, uh, showed up and reattached itself and we had to rip your arm off again.”
Arthur’s hand went to his port. “My arm?! Again?!”
“Um, yeah, it was sealed in your arm. Did-did no one tell you about this?”
“No! Why was there a demon in my arm?!”
“Uh, well, apparently the possession started in your arm and was mostly in there,” explained Lewis. “So to stop the possession Mystery removed your arm.”
“Mystery?! But he’s a little-” Arthur stopped himself. “He’s not a dog. He’s a kitsune. And I never asked how big he is out of his disguise.”
“He’s big enough for you to ride him like a pony,” said Lewis.
Big enough to maim someone then. “And you didn’t know any of this?” pressed Arthur.
“That happened after I died. I think it took a few hours for me to wake up,” explained Lewis. “If I had known…I swear I would have never tried to hurt you. You have to believe me.”
Arthur’s mind was racing too much for him to answer. He’d been possessed. Something made him hurt Lewis. Did that mean he killed Lewis? Or did the blame lay squarely with the demon? Why would Vivi and Lance hide this from him? Why didn’t Mystery warn him while he was looking for Lewis?
Why him? Why Lewis? What did they do to deserve this?
Why? Why? Why?
“I need a minute.” Arthur was barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth, but he knew they were true. He flew out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house, barely hearing people calling his name. He needed to get out of here. He needed to go, go, go.
And now he was in his van and driving, driving, driving. He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going. Did it matter where he went? Did it matter if he came back?
Eventually, Arthur started to calm down. He was still an odd combination of upset and numb, but he was thinking a bit more clearly now so he realized that it was starting to get late and he had no idea where he was.
…
Now what?
Eventually, Arthur started to get hungry so he finally stopped at a gas station to refuel, grab a snack or two, and maybe get directions to somewhere to eat/sleep.
The door dinged as Arthur walked inside. “Hey,” said the cashier.
“Hey,” said Arthur as he walked over to the snack aisle. They had a few protein bars. That would work. Arthur eyed the energy drinks for several minutes before sighing and getting a can of coffee. He didn’t want to stay up all night, just last long enough to grab a meal and find a motel or something.
“I’d like to buy these,” said Arthur, placing the two items on the counter and pulling out a twenty. “And put the change on pump five.”
The cashier started to ring him up. “Sure thing.”
“Also, I’m not from around here. Do you know anywhere I can buy some food this time of night and a decent motel I can stay at?”
“There’s a Motel 8 a few streets down with some fast food places nearby,” said the cashier.
Arthur nodded. They’d stayed at Motel 8’s before. They were usually decent and had cable. “So will do I need to head straight or take any turns?”
“Turn right out of the station. You should see the sign in a few minutes. There’s a few fast food places around that might still be open.”
“Thanks.” Arthur walked out, tossed his food into the van, and got his gas. He took a moment to eat the protein bar before heading back out.
The Hotel 8 was right where the cashier said it would be. Arthur went ahead and got a room for two nights in case the reception would close later. Then he went and grabbed a fish sandwich and fries from a nearby McDonalds.
And now he was sitting in his room, just staring at the wall as he tried to figure out what to do. It wasn’t like he’d planned any of this. Arthur’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
Oh. He’d forgotten about that. He pulled it out and saw dozens of missed texts and calls, mostly from Vivi and Lance. They mostly consisted of how he was running late, did something come up, you should’ve been home by now, are you okay, are you hurt, where are you?
Arthur felt a bit guilty. What should he say? He bit his lip. He didn’t want to talk to them right now to tell the truth. Still, he should let them know he was alive. “I’m fine. I know about the cave. I need some time to myself,” he texted back to Lance and Vivi.
Then he turned off his phone. He didn’t have a charger with him, and his phone was starting to run low.
God, Arthur was exhausted in so many ways. Arthur flopped on a bed. He hadn’t bothered to bring any clothes, but what he was wearing should work as pajamas.
…
…
He couldn’t sleep.
Arthur groaned and turned on the television. He didn’t bother to change the channel. He didn’t care what he was watching. He just needed a distraction.
He wished he’d remembered to grab his medicine before he’d run off.
Arthur must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke up the next morning feeling sore and with the beginnings of a headache.
Something squeezed his arm.
Arthur screamed, flailed, and managed to throw what was on his arm off and into the wall. The startled shriek and purple caused Arthur to do a double take.
It was one of Lewis’ little ghosts. It was looking at Arthur like he’d just told it Santa didn’t exist. “Shit! Sorry, you startled me!” Arthur looked around for a moment. He didn’t see any other ghosts, including Lewis. “Where the heck did you come from?”
The little ghost let out a warble. It still looked pretty upset. Arthur sighed and held his hand out in front of it. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. I went to sleep alone, and then woke up with something else in bed with me. I thought you were a wild animal. Or maybe a clever cat. Something that might try to bite me.”
The little ghost was looking a little less contrite. It nuzzled Arthur’s hand. Arthur pet it. “Huh, when you’re not trying to kill a guy, you’re actually kind of cute,” admitted Arthur. “But what are you even doing here? I’m pretty sure Lewis isn’t nearby. I guess he could’ve followed me, but he doesn’t have a car so that would be obvious.”
It was at this point the ghost let out a chirp, flowed up Arthur’s arm, curled around his neck, and nuzzled his cheek with another chirp. Arthur shuddered. “Uh, you’re cute and friendly, but wow that feels weird…” The nuzzling stopped, but it stayed curled around him. Arthur sighed. “Okay, so I’m on my own with a ghost. Well, now’s as good a time as any to make a plan.” Arthur sat on the bed. “Well, I guess I should get something to eat first.” The ghost perked up and gave him a happy look and chirp. “…Can you even eat? And if you do how does that even work?” The ghost warbled. “Then…I don’t have any other plans. I’ll have to eat lunch and dinner at some point. Maybe stop at a bank and pick up some supplies. I can’t exactly live in the same outfit for the whole time I’m here.”
The ghost scrunched up its face and stuck out a tongue. Arthur chuckled. “I guess I’ll make it up as I go along, but for now I’d like to clean up so could you let go for a bit?” The ghost did so, curling up on the bed instead. Arthur briefly wondered how much the ghost understood before heading to the bathroom.
While he could clean up pretty much the same as usual with the provided soap, there wasn’t any hair gel provided. His hair was already starting to droop. Maybe he had a tin in the van from their last trip.
A quick search showed that A: Uncle Lance had been very thorough about cleaning up the van when he’d moved it inside the garage and B: There was no hair gel or any other styling products of any kind. Arthur debated on whether to buy a new tin or if he could survive a ponytail for a few days.
Eh, he’d have to buy more eventually.
“I’m heading out. Do you-” The ghost flew out of the hotel room and into the van. “Well, okay then.” Arthur locked the door and got into the van where the ghost was exploring everything. “I’ll have to leave you in here during some of my shopping. You okay with that?” The ghost let out a chirp. It was smiling so Arthur took it as a ‘yes’. “Off we go.”
First stop was the McDonald’s again. Arthur got a parfait specifically so he could save a couple of berries and see if the ghost could eat them.
They fell back out of the ghost. Go figure.
After that, Arthur managed to find a bank and withdraw some money. Then he found a Wal-Mart and got a few essentials that would let him survive a few days away from home.
That was really all he had planned for today. “Well, I came here to think. Maybe I can find a park or a nature walk or something?” Although the latter seemed unlikely. This was a pretty small town.
The park they had was a bit small. There was some playground equipment that was mostly deserted except for some mothers with very young children. A couple of people walking dogs.
Oh, right, school day. Well, it worked in his favor.
Arthur just walked for a while, going in circles after a bit. Thinking on everything. Lewis had tried to kill him specifically, not the whole rest of the gang. Vivi had lied to him about why. Lance…Well, Arthur wasn’t sure if he’d lied, but he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to tell Arthur what had happened.
And that was without getting into the issues with Mystery. If he’d been able to talk the whole time, he could have told Arthur what happened in the cave the whole time! Heck, Mystery could have told Lewis and calmed him down. Or even told them that there was a demon in that cave and prevented everything!
A demon…Arthur rubbed his scarred shoulder. He’d been possessed by a demon. Twice by the sound of things. That couldn’t be good.
Arthur still didn’t remember what had happened. Not that he was surprised, but he was a bit disappointed that he was still drawing a blank.
So…what did he know about demons? They’d never run into one before, thank goodness, but Vivi had talked about them before.
They could be repelled by faith, holy water, holy salt, could not set foot on sanctified ground, you should never say a demon’s name because that would catch its attention (Arthur briefly wondered if that applied to other means of communication before shutting down that line of thought for his own peace of mind.), they lied, they only told the truth when it would hurt someone, they could possess people, they targeted people who were emotionally or psychologically vulnerable…
Arthur ran his hand down his face. Anxiety, fear of being abandoned by his now dating friends, longing for said friends, some admitted jealousy, and more than a little panic and fear at being in a rumored to be haunted cave where people had been horribly murdered. He could see why the demon had latched onto him. Vivi and Lewis had both been excited and eager to explore. They hadn’t even grabbed half the supplies Arthur had brought.
…
That happened a lot. Lewis and Vivi would get excited and be so sure that nothing bad would happen that they’d run in with the bare minimum of preparation, like they were invincible. Meanwhile Arthur would run after them telling them to be careful because there were bears around here, and that house is not structurally sound, and you should have a way to keep from getting lost in a cave!
…And that was the practical, normal dangers that Arthur could look up on his phone if he needed to. The more esoteric, supernatural stuff was Vivi’s domain. He didn’t recall seeing her take more than a bat with an ofuda on it and a few vials of holy water unless she knew they needed something specific. A lot her supplies were left in the van…
Arthur shook her head. Even if Vivi could have maybe prevented it, that was a big maybe. They’d never know for sure…and if Arthur was being honest he probably could have prevented it by telling them…Well, not how he had feelings for them but at least that he felt left out and would like to spend more time with them. And maybe asked if they could do something other than sleuthing, like go to a convention or something. It might’ve helped lessen his anxiety.
Arthur had no idea if Lewis could’ve done anything to prevent his death. He liked ghosts and stuff like Vivi but wasn’t knowledgeable enough to get the same amount of use out of Vivi’s collection. The only thing Arthur could come up with was Lewis taking the lower path with Vivi, and who knows how that would have gone. Maybe the demon would’ve made Arthur jump off the cliff or gone after Vivi or Lewis.
The fact of the matter is that Arthur just didn’t know enough about what had happened. Yeah, he’d gotten the story from Lewis, but that was from Lewis’ point of view. If Arthur still had his memories he could look back and point out every moment he’d messed up and what he could’ve done differently.
…
Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t remember what happened in that cave. He felt guilty enough as it is even knowing he’d been possessed at the time. He’d probably be a mess if he actually remembered anything.
It was at that moment he saw a food truck. What time was it? He didn’t have a watch. He mostly used his phone to tell the time when he was out and about. Well, he was getting hungry and there was a line so he was going to say it was around lunchtime. He walked over and got in line. Looked like a Mexican food truck. Maybe they had fish tacos.
No fish tacos. He settled for a couple of chicken tacos instead. They were actually pretty good. “Now what?” He felt done with walking for the moment. He walked back to his van where the little ghost wrapped around him making happy sounds. “Want to explore a bit?”
While exploring Arthur found an old-fashioned movie theatre. He figured he could sneak the ghost inside so he bought a ticket for a movie he was unfamiliar with.
It was a weird movie, but Arthur would watch it again. The ghost fell asleep part way through. This made it easier to leave in the van when Arthur found a small library.
Arthur spent his time on reddit looking at threads about people talking about being lied to or who survived murder attempts. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to read, but it did help Arthur sort through his feelings.
Once it got a bit later, Arthur left the library and found a semi-decent restaurant where he made a half hearted attempt to eat healthy by ordering the grilled chicken sandwich and green beans. Then it was back to the hotel room for the night.
Arthur sat on the bed, kicking his feet as the ghost channel surfed. “You know…That was nice. Being on my own and just doing whatever for the day,” mused Arthur. “It’s something that’ll get old fast, and I think I’d rather be with…a friend. But I guess it’s good to have some time to yourself every now and then so you can sort your thoughts out.”
The ghost just yawned. Arthur yawned too. “Yeah, bed sounds good.”
The next day started much the same, except Arthur woke up a bit earlier and didn’t panic when he felt the little ghost cuddling him. He decided to be lazy and lay there for a bit before getting up.
He decided on pancakes for breakfast, just because. Then he went back to the park. He wasn’t sure it he’d be there long enough to see the food truck again, but he had seen a café he might be able to try.
Arthur had been watching a squirrel navigate some branches when he heard a dog barking. He didn’t think anything of it since he’d seen a few dogs walking around.
“Arthur!”
“Wha?” Arthur turned just in time to find himself with an armful of Vivi. “Vivi?!”
“Oh God, I didn’t think we were gonna find you!” Vivi pulled back to give him a glare. “What were you thinking running off like that!”
Arthur winced. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be alone,” admitted Arthur. “I did send those texts to let you know I was okay.”
“Anyone could’ve sent those texts!”
“My screen has a lock on it,” argued Arthur. “How did you even…” Arthur trailed off as he noticed who else was there. Mystery was standing a respectable distance to let Vivi have her say, but behind Mystery was a very-nervous looking Lewis with a familiar ghost rubbing up against him. “…Were you spying on me?”
“No!” Lewis shook his head rapidly. “I didn’t even mean for Anaheim to end up with you!”
Arthur blinked. “You named him Anaheim?”
Lewis did that weird purple blush. “Um, yeah, anyway I guess he must’ve wandered into your van while we were talking. I didn’t notice until I realized he was moving away with you, and when Vivi said you were missing I thought maybe I could use that to track you,” he explained with a shrug.
Vivi spun to face Lewis with a glare. “I still can’t believe you told him! Isn’t it enough that you tried to-”
Arthur slammed his hand over Vivi’s mouth. She gave him a startled look. “Look, we are in the middle of a public park. Do you really have this conversation here?”
Vivi removed his hand. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation at all!”
Arthur took a deep breath. “Vivi, you are a strong, independent woman and one of my best friends, but this is my life, not yours. I…I think I’d actually forgotten that.”
Vivi looked confused. “Huh?”
Arthur sighed. “Let’s find somewhere private when can talk about this.” He turned to Lewis. “That means you too.”
Lewis looked a bit surprised and…hopeful? Wow, he really must’ve been miserable since coming back.
For some reason, they ended up at…Arthur wouldn’t call it a mall, but it was sort of built like one. There were a bunch of stores in a larger building, along with a couple of restaurants. Arthur waited until they got some food (Arthur absentmindedly noticed Lewis slipped his food onto the seat next to him for Mystery to eat.) to open the conversation. “Why did we start the Mystery Skulls?”
Vivi paused. “Because we wanted to travel around and investigate ghost sightings.”
Arthur shook his head. “That’s what you and Lewis wanted. I was perfectly fine with traveling and spending time with you guys,” he said with a fond smile. “I love spending time with you.” His smile fell. “I never liked the investigating part. I always felt scared the whole time. I would’ve been all right with just driving you guys around and staying with the van, but…” Vivi and Lewis always convinced him to come with them. “I guess I wanted to spend even more time with you guys…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I convinced myself it was fine because we were doing something you liked, but…” He scratched the back of his neck. “How do I put this? Even when we went on a trip to somewhere I wanted to go, we got sidetracked by investigations to and from, even if we could’ve avoided it or left it to the local authorities. I think at some point I convinced myself that it was okay because it’s not like you planned any of that, except…except it wasn’t okay. Everything was about the Mystery Skulls the paranormal investigators, even when I wanted a break, even when I was scared out of my mind, even when my anxiety got worse…” He shook his head. “I can’t spend the rest of my life doing something that terrifies me. I can’t be a Mystery Skull anymore.”
“Oh…” Vivi looked devastated. “I mean, I was going to suggest a break, but if you’re sure you don’t want to be an investigator anymore…”
Arthur nodded. “I’m sure. I still wouldn’t mind traveling with you guys and taking care of the equipment, but I’d rather stay out of the way when you do your work.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe eventually I’ll be comfortable enough to occasionally go on a job with you, but I think it’s time for me to move on and do something else with my life.” He smiled sadly. “And I know that’s selfish, but…I think sometimes you have to be selfish to take care of yourself. I tried to be selfless, and it ended up messing me up pretty badly, so now I kind of have to be a bit selfish.”
The whole table was silent as everyone digested that. “Then…I guess the Mystery Skulls are over,” said Vivi.
Arthur blinked. “What? No, c’mon, you’ve still got Lewis and Mystery.”
Lewis winced as Vivi gave him a look. “Vivi’s only tolerating my presence because I had a way to find you. She’s…still understandably angry with me.”
“And I disguise myself as a dog so most sane folks won’t consider me an investigator,” pointed out Mystery.
Arthur huffed. “Vivi, I’ve already forgiven Lewis for trying to kill me.”
“What?!” The rest of the restaurant turned to stare at Vivi and Lewis’ shout.
“Sorry, sorry,” said Lewis, whose hair looked a little wispy. “Just, caught us by surprise there.” He chuckled nervously as most of the other patrons returned to their meals. He turned to give Arthur a confused look. “And what’s this about forgiving me?”
“I’d like an explanation for that too,” said Vivi.
“I got possessed by a demon. So when it pushed him off a cliff he didn’t see a demon pushing him. He saw me pushing him. I can understand the confusion. Heck, the demon probably wanted Lewis to think it was me,” admitted Arthur. “And I admit I feel awful about that. I probably always will, but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.” He turned to Lewis. “You don’t have to go into detail, but what did you think when you first became a ghost?”
Lewis winced. “Well, it took me a few seconds to realize I was dead…and it took me a little while to remember what happened. Then I just got so angry I could barely think straight. I just knew you’d…pushed me. It wasn’t fair. I-I had to hurt you too. It was only fair, and I kept thinking like that…” He turned his gaze towards Vivi. “Until you protected him.”
Vivi gave him an unimpressed look. “And you still tried to blow us all up.”
Lewis winced. “Yeah, I was still hazy. I didn’t snap out of it until…until I dropped Arthur and realized I didn’t want that after all.”
“Uh huh.” Vivi turned to Arthur. “Is there a point to this?”
“You said ghosts can be really confused and not think straight when they first die,” Arthur reminded her. “And let’s face it, Lewis has every right to be upset about dying! And, well, it made sense to think it was my fault at the time, so I can see why messed up logic led him to think I had to pay for his death.” He turned to Lewis. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still terrified that your first reaction was to jump straight to murdering me instead of, like, leading police to your body or appearing to your family and telling them what happened. Yeah, one of those would have probably ended with me getting arrested, but if you figured out that you were wrong, you could appear and, I dunno, pretend you had amnesia or something. Murder…is kind of permanent. I would have never imagined you’d do something like that…”
Lewis looked guilty. “I wouldn’t have thought I was capable of it either. I just…hurt so much.”
“Everyone was hurting,” said Vivi. “Yes, that includes me. I might not have been able to remember you, but I saw how upset everyone else was and couldn’t do anything to stop it, and Arthur lost his arm and nearly died! And what did he focus on? His missing friend! He nearly worked himself to death looking for you!”
Lewis was getting pretty cowed so Arthur decided to interrupt. “I’m pretty upset with you too Vivi.”
Vivi gave him a startled look. “Me? Why?”
“You lied to me, and not a little lie either. You consciously decided to hide how Lewis died from me!” He pointed at his shoulder. “And you knew I was trying to find out what happened even before Lewis came back as a ghost!”
“Well, it’s not like we need to find Lewis anymore,” pointed out Vivi.
Arthur winced along with Lewis. “Ow, that’s harsh.” Arthur shook his head. “That’s not my point. Would you like it if-Oh, wait. That’s actually a pretty good comparison.”
“Hm?”
“Lewis tried to hid how he died from you. How did that feel?” asked Arthur.
Vivi winced. “Yeah, that wasn’t…A part of my life was ripped out of my head. That’s not the same thing.”
Arthur nodded. “I guess not, but you were still trying to cover up a major event in my life that irreparably changed it.” He sighed. “Try to put yourself in my shoes. You spent months trying to figure out what happened during a period you lost your memories. Suddenly everyone knows, but won’t tell you. Won’t, not can’t. You know the difference.”
Vivi huffed but was silent for several minutes. “Okay, I can see where you’re coming from.”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“But I’m still angry with you,” she said, looking straight at Lewis.
Oh come on. What would it take to get her to talk civilly with Lewis?
A throat cleared itself under the table before Mystery climbed into the open seat next to Lewis. None of the other patrons or workers batted an eye at the behavior. “If I may, Vivi, how would you react if Arthur pushed you off a cliff to your death?”
Arthur let out a hiss. What would he do if Vivi and Lewis both died?
“Is Arthur possessed?” asked Vivi.
“No,” said Mystery.
“I wouldn’t-I couldn’t-” Arthur shook his head. He knew he couldn’t do that.
“Well, I guess I’d go confront him about it,” said Vivi.
Mystery raised an eyebrow. “And is that all you would do with your temper?”
Vivi blushed. “Okay, I might’ve beaten him up…or worse…I guess if I wasn’t thinking completely clearly it would be easy to go overboard.”
Mystery nodded. “You would try killing him.”
Vivi looked away. “Maybe…Probably.”
“Oh, it seems I was mistaken. Arthur was possessed when he killed you.”
Vivi’s head snapped towards Mystery. “Wha-You just said he wasn’t!”
“Well, if it had been you, you wouldn’t have had any way of knowing that it wasn’t Arthur,” pointed out Mystery. “Demons are crafty like that. I wouldn’t be surprised if it influenced Lewis after he manifested.”
“Is that why I’m a skeleton?” questioned Lewis.
“No, that’s what happens when you’re killed by an act of betrayal,” explained Mystery. “Or a perceived act of betrayal in this case.” He turned his attention to Vivi. “And as I’ve pointed out before we wouldn’t have beaten Shiromori and the demon without his help.”
“Oh, that’s right. Lewis mentioned I was possessed again,” interrupted Arthur. “Did I hurt anyone?”
Mystery shook his head. “Nothing permanent.”
Arthur smiled. “That’s good.”
Vivi frowned. “You’re not gonna ask what else happened?”
Arthur shrugged. “You guys fought a demon and this Shiro lady and won, but how’d you get the demon out of me?”
“The same way as I did before,” said Mystery. “Although it did a lot less damage this time.”
So his arm had been ripped off again. “Hey, wait. Does that mean my port wasn’t ripped off by the stalagmite?”
“Uh, no, that was the demon,” said Lewis. “You…You were impaled.”
Arthur blanched. “I what?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t die immediately.”
“No one mentioned that in the hospital,” pointed out Arthur.
Lewis winced. “When the demon possessed you it made the holes close up.”
Okay…so he’d been closer to dying than he thought. “Do I need to be worried?”
“I am not sure,” admitted Mystery. “The demon is completely out of you, and we…sealed the arm away. Still, it did technically change your body, but it was for survival purposes so I don’t think it will have any side effects unless you are badly injured again or run into a powerful entity.”
Arthur looked between Mystery and Lewis. “Don’t you two count?”
“I keep my power suppressed unless I actually need to use it,” said Mystery.
“I’ve been doing that too,” said Lewis.
“Okay…” Arthur didn’t really get it, but he figured he’d find out if they had some sort of effect on him eventually. “Actually, I was wondering. Why didn’t you say anything to us in the cave?” Arthur asked Mystery. “If you’re a super powerful kitsune. Shouldn’t you have been able to pick up on it? I mean, it would’ve been a bit of a shock to find out you could talk, but it would be a lot better than…you know.”
Vivi groaned. “He was so afraid of attracting that tree chick that he doesn’t even tell people he can talk!”
Mystery bristled. “You saw what she was like. She would’ve killed us both!”
“So how dangerous was this lady?” asked Arthur.
“She could grow back all of her body parts, including her head,” said Lewis. “And she could travel underground about as quickly as a car. Pretty sure she was as physically strong as me at least. And she had those scissors…”
Mystery cleared his throat. “As, you can see, she’s a dangerous enough opponent that I wanted to avoid attracting her attention.”
Arthur could accept that. He understood being afraid and wanting to protect someone you cared about. “But…why didn’t you do something as soon as the demon started to possess me?” He’d be fine with losing his arm in that case. At least then Lewis would still be alive.
Mystery’s ears lowered. “I…I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought maybe I could restrain you, find a way to force it out, but it was stronger than I thought, and the possession progressed so rapidly. By the time I realized I would need to find another option it was too late to save Lewis.”
Arthur could understand not wanting to hurt a friend too. He sighed. “Let’s face it: We all fucked up, and I’m pretty sure we all did at least a couple of things that could’ve prevented all of this. Can we just try to move on? You guys are my best friends. I can’t-I don’t want to imagine life without you.” He’d already seen what it was like without Lewis. “So, even if we can’t go back to the way things were, maybe we can at least have something similar?”
Lewis looked rather stunned by the suggestion, Mystery looked pleased, Vivi looked exasperated. “You really wanna be friends with the guy who tried to killed you?”
Arthur laughed nervously. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still feeling nervous being around Lewis. I probably will be for a while, but I know that he’s acting more or less like he did before he died, although you’re being a lot quieter than usual.”
“Of course I am!” said Lewis. “I thought that you killed me! Even though we were best friends! And…I nearly threw everything away…” he muttered looking down.
Arthur and Mystery gave Vivi a pointed look. She threw up her hands. “Okay fine! I will try to get along with Lewis!” She gave him a look. “As long as he behaves.”
Lewis nodded rapidly. “I swear I have absolutely no desire to hurt anyone!”
Arthur smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” asked Arthur.
“We go back to Tempo, of course!” said Vivi.
Arthur winced. “Can we wait until tomorrow morning? It took a while to get down here. We’d either have to stop somewhere on the way back or arrive at, like, 2 in the morning.”
Vivi winced. “Ugh, and we have two cars to drive back too…” She sighed. “Fine, but at least call Lance. He was worried sick about you.”
Arthur winced. “Oh. Yeah. My phone should have enough of a charge for that.” He started to take out his phone before he remembered they were in the middle of a crowded space. “Actually, can we go somewhere more private for this? We’re done eating anyway.”
Vivi thought for a moment and nodded. “Good point! Lance can be pretty loud when he’s upset.”
They ended up back at the park, Arthur sitting on a bench while Vivi and Mystery played fetch and Lewis hovered nearby. Literally. “Uh, Big Guy, your feet are kind of…”
Lewis made an annoyed sound and lowered to the ground. “You would not believe how hard it is to keep your feet on the ground when you don’t have mass.”
Arthur honestly had no idea how to respond to that and decided to turn his attention back to calling Uncle Lance.
…
This was gonna be bad.
Arthur turned on the phone, dialed the number, and waited for Uncle Lance to answer. Usually it took two or three rings, but he answered after only one. “Arthur?”
“Hi Uncle Lance,” Arthur said sheepishly.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Even Lewis winced from the shouting. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that,” said Arthur.
“How do you accidentally run off to another town?!”
“It just happened. I just was gonna drive somewhere to be alone, but I guess I was in a sort of…trance? I feel like there’s a better word than that, but I’m sticking to trance until I can remember it. I was sort of in a trance thinking about all the stuff I’d just found out, and my body was on autopilot, and I guess since I didn’t have a destination in mind I just kept driving until I snapped out of it.”
Uncle Lance was silent for a moment. “I knew you were gonna react badly to that.”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t tell me…Anyway, I wanted to work through my feelings and thoughts on my own so I figured I’d stay here for a few days and then head back. I wasn’t expecting you to send the rest of the gang after me.”
“You saw what happened when Lewis went missing. Why wouldn’t we do the same for you?” pointed out Lance.
Arthur paused. “Uh…That’s a good question. Low self-esteem?”
“Arthur…”
He winced. “I have to start seeing that therapist again, don’t I?”
“I’m going to make an appointment as soon as this call is over.”
Arthur sighed. “Yes sir.”
“…You are feeling better, aren’t you?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
“And you’re all right with Lewis being there?”
Arthur looked over towards where Lewis was watching him. “Yeah, he’s acting like his old self. I’m a bit anxious because of everything, but I don’t think he’s going to do anything like that again.”
“If he does I’ll kill him myself,” said Lance, ignoring the fact that Lewis was technically already dead.
Heck, Lance would probably find a way to make him double dead.
“You’ll be coming home now?” asked Lance.
“I ended up pretty far away so we’re gonna wait until tomorrow morning to head back. We should get back some time in the afternoon,” said Arthur.
“That’ll work,” said Lance. “But I ain’t letting you out of my sight for the next week.”
Arthur snorted. Lewis gave him a confused look. Arthur lowered the phone. “I’m grounded,” he whispered before bringing the phone back up to his ear. “That’s fair.”
“Good. And after that you better not disappear ever again. You got too many who care about you, understand?”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious now,” admitted Arthur.
He heard Uncle Lance sigh over the phone. “You take care of yourself. Stay safe.”
“I will.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Arthur hung up with a relieved sigh. “Well, that’s done.”
“He wasn’t too upset?” asked Lewis.
“Once he calmed down, no. Just worried. Can’t blame him,” admitted Arthur. He paused. “Hey, where are Vivi and Mystery?”
Lewis wordlessly pointed behind them. Arthur turned and saw Mystery running around with the ball while Vivi chased him, trying to get it back. She was smiling so she wasn’t upset or anything. Arthur smiled. “Huh, that’s…She looks happier than she’s been the past couple of weeks.”
Lewis winced. “Oh.”
Right, Vivi hadn’t visited him. “Maybe we should let ‘em go at it for a bit.”
“Hm.”
The two watched Vivi and Mystery for a bit.
“So…you’ve been seeing a therapist?” asked Lewis.
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, after…the cave, when I woke up I started having panic attacks. I figured it had something to do with what happened even if I couldn’t remember it. It’s actually pretty good, my therapist helped me work through some of my more illogical fears and got me to feel a bit better for myself. Got me on a decent anti-anxiety medicine too.”
“I think Lance gave that to Vivi,” said Lewis.
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I can probably afford to miss a dose or two, but if it gets out of my system I think I’ll be in trouble.” He paused for a moment. “You know, it might do you and Vivi some good to see a therapist.”
Lewis sighed. “I…probably could use it, but what would I even say? I can’t exactly say that I was killed by a demon possessing my…” Lewis trailed off. “What are we to each other?”
Before Arthur would have responded that they were best friends without a moment’s hesitation. Now though…Was that accurate? “I’d say we’re friends at least. Maybe we can work back up to best friends.”
Lewis looked away. “…At least you’re still willing to be friends,” he muttered.
Arthur looked back towards Vivi. “Give her some time. I think once she sees you’re the same as you are in her memories she’ll warm back up to you.” He wasn’t sure Vivi would want to date Lewis again, but he wasn’t going to say that. “…Do you guys feel up to seeing a movie?”
They ended up seeing the same movie Arthur had seen before. There were jokes, lampshade hanging, and making fun of dumb decisions. It was great.
After that, they picked up a bunch of Chinese food and went back to the hotel room where they watched random stuff Anaheim and the other tiny ghosts (Lewis called them Deadbeats. Funny.) would choose. If you took away the ghosts it was pretty similar to what they’d do when they were on their own before.
“We should get to bed. We need to get up early to head out,” said Vivi.
Arthur checked the time. “Yeah, you can use the bathroom first. I can change out here.”
They were all guys. Arthur just made sure to angle himself so that Lewis didn’t see the scars and port.
The problem was that there were two beds, and it didn’t hit Arthur that he probably wouldn’t be sharing with Mystery until he saw Vivi climbing into the bed he’d obviously been using. “Uh, that’s…Should I use the other bed?”
“You’re not sharing with Lewis,” said Vivi in a tone that brokered no argument.
“He can have it to himself,” said Lewis. “I don’t sleep anymore.”
“Yeah, that works!” Arthur quickly climbed into the other bed and Mystery jumped into Vivi’s. “Feel free to keep watching TV. Just keep the volume low, okay.”
He said that, but he lay there for about half an hour unable to sleep. That wasn’t really odd. He’d had this problem since he was a kid. He turned, opening his eyes for a moment.
Lewis was floating between their bed in a reclining position. “Trouble sleeping?”
Arthur nodded. “Just the usual.”
Lewis was silent. “You…you oughta have an easier time if you shared with Vivi.”
Arthur frowned. “I don’t feel comfortable climbing into her bed while she’s sleeping.”
“She won’t care,” said Lewis.
She wouldn’t. She’d done it herself several times. “Let me rephrase that: I don’t feel comfortable doing that to you,” said Arthur.
Lewis looked surprised for a moment before looking away with a grimace. “She said the same thing.”
“Hm?”
Lewis shook his head. “Nothing. I just said something stupid to Vivi before.”
“Oh.” It seemed like more than that, but Arthur wasn’t going to press him. “Well, if you’re okay with it, maybe Anaheim can be my snuggle buddy instead? I was getting pretty comfortable with him by the time you got here.”
There was a chirp right before he felt something smooth wrap around him and nuzzle under his chin. Arthur reached up to give him a good scratch only for the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. He didn’t think he’d done anything to make Lewis upset. He glanced up. Lewis looked unbothered, but the other Deadeats were watching him. “Um…Lewis…”
And then Arthur was suddenly buried under a mass of Deadbeats. He let out a distressed sound. “Whoa! No, don’t do that!” The Deadbeats were quickly removed by an apologetic Lewis. “Sorry. They can be…very affectionate.”
“I am not ready for that many ghosts,” admitted Arthur. In fact he was feeling a lot less sleepy now. “I think I’ll watch TV with you for a bit.”
Arthur did eventually get to sleep and woke up to the sun starting to rise and shine through the window. He sat up in bed, Anaheim making a yawning sound. He frowned and looked around in confusion. Vivi and Mystery were still sleeping in their bed, but where was Lewis?
Arthur glanced down at Anaheim. “Well, he must be coming back if he was willing to leave you here.” He gave Shaggy a good scratch. “Wonder what he’s doing.”
Several minutes of sitting in the bed later, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a hand coming out of the door. Fortunately, he recognized it as Lewis’ hand before he could panic. Lewis’ hand groped for a moment before grabbing the doorknob and turning it so he could walk inside with a couple of bags.
Well, that explained why Lewis hadn’t just gone through the door. “Good morning,” greeted Arthur.
“Good morning,” greeted Lewis. “You would not believe some of the looks I got when I went to buy breakfast.”
“Well, you are wearing a full dress suit,” commented Arthur. Could Lewis not change into other clothes? “And…you’re wearing sunglasses?”
“I can’t change my eyes,” explained Lewis. “Most people would panic.”
Arthur nodded in understanding. “I get it.”
“So, uh…” Lewis hefted the bags. “I got breakfast.”
Arthur smiled. “Thanks.” Arthur got out of bed and shook Vivi. “Up and at ‘em.” Vivi groaned. “Lewis has food.”
That got Vivi to crack her eyes open. “Is there coffee?”
Lewis nodded. “I ordered a couple of large ones.”
“Mm…” Vivi and Mystery rolled out of bed. “Right. Let’s eat up so we can head out.”
Arthur paused. “Does anyone have a coin?” Lewis dug one out of his pocket and handed it over. “Thank.” He flipped it. “Tails.”
“And that means?”
“I’m riding with Vivi,” said Arthur matter-of-factly. He turned to Lewis. “Would you mind driving the van back?”
“Sure, no problem.” Lewis’ eyes went to Arthur’s port. “Uh, not to be insensitive, but how…?”
“Lots of practice,” deadpanned Arthur.
A quick breakfast and wash up later, they were getting into the cars. “I think I’ll keep Lewis company,” said Mystery before jumping into the van.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” commented Vivi as she climbed into her car.
“Yeah. Wow, I can’t remember the last time I saw you without Mystery,” commented Arthur as he climbed in as well.
They set out. Arthur glanced in the rearview mirror to watch the van. Still behind them. It made him a bit uncomfortable. Maybe if they talked it would distract him.
Actually, it was a bit odd that Vivi wasn’t talking yet. Maybe she was still a bit upset at Arthur? Should he try saying something. What should he say? “I really am sorry for scaring you guys.”
“Just don’t do that again,” said Vivi. “I was terrified that I would find you and you’d be dead.”
Arthur winced because as much as he wanted to deny that would happen it had been what happened with Lewis. “Yeah, not one of my better ideas. I’ll stick with you and Lewis from now on.”
“You really care for him,” muttered Vivi.
“Of course I do,” said Arthur. “He’s…well, he was my best friend. I guess right now he’s a good friend, could be a best friend again once we adjust to everything.”
“Are you in love with him?” asked Vivi.
Arthur spun towards her? “What?! Where did that come from?!”
“You forgave him way too easily for trying to kill you. You’re trying to get me to forgive him so we can all be friends again. You spent months looking for him at the detriment of your own health. Before he died, you were willing to do pretty much anything for him,” listed Vivi.
“I’d do anything for both of you!” protested Arthur. “You’re my friends!”
“I don’t want to be friends!” Arthur felt his heart break. “I want to be more than that!” Wait. What? “But every time I drop hints you ignore it, and you completely miss my flirting! I thought it was because you’re ace, but now I’m wondering if you were willfully ignoring all of that.”
Well, that, wow. “I, uh, I did notice some of the flirting, but it was while Lewis was missing, and, well, you couldn’t remember, but you were Lewis’ girlfriend, and it seemed like it would be wrong and taking advantage of both of you.”
“Well, we’re not dating now! Heck! He practically gave you permission last night!”
Arthur blinked. “You were awake for that?”
Vivi nodded. “I wanted you to say yes. Why wouldn’t you?”
Arthur sighed. “I don’t want to be a replacement for Lewis. You were probably projecting on me when he was missing or something.”
Vivi gave him a look. “Did you seriously convince yourself of that?!”
Arthur shrugged. “It makes sense!”
“No, it doesn’t!” argued Vivi. “Everything to do with Lewis was gone! And you really think I would flirt with someone I’m not interested in?”
“Um, playfully, maybe. That’s what friends do, right?” asked Arthur.
Vivi made a frustrated sound. “Do you ever flirt with Lewis or me?”
“I don’t know how to flirt at all,” pointed out Arthur.
“…Okay, I can believe that,” admitted Vivi. “Generally, friends only flirt with each other if they find each other attractive.”
“Oh.”
“I flirted with you before Lewis died,” continued Vivi.
“You did?” Arthur couldn’t remember that. “It seems like that would upset Lewis.”
“He was flirting with you too.”
That made his brain short circuit. “Huh?”
“We’d been trying to figure out if you were interested in joining in our relationship practically since Lewis told me he’s bi,” explained Vivi. “You didn’t exactly make that easy by the way. Given, it was only like two months, but still. How could you miss all of that?”
“But…You were dating each other,” said Arthur, still too shocked to date properly.
“You can have more than two people in a romantic relationship,” explained Vivi. “Dunno why it doesn’t happen more often,” she muttered.
“And you…both of you…wanted…with me.” Arthur was stumbling over his words pretty badly by this point. Of all the things he’d been expecting today, this wasn’t one of them.
“Yeah, we were pretty sure you felt the same way from what we could tell,” said Vivi. “Did you feel the same way? Considering how much confessing we’ve been doing, I’d really like to hear your answer.”
“I…” Arthur swallowed. He’d been hiding this for so long. It would have been wrong of him to say anything. It would have been selfish. He didn’t want to ruin his friendship with either of them But maybe now…Maybe it would be all right. “I did. Do. I do. I still like both of you. Like that.”
“…How can you still have feelings for Lewis?” asked Vivi.
Arthur thought. It would be pretty reasonable to avoid someone who tried to kill you, but…
Arthur kept thinking of all the good times he’d had with Lewis, and the bad times…Well, in retrospect they weren’t so bad and showed how much they were willing to help each other. And they were happy around each other.
Lewis made a mistake. He’d admitted as much and obviously felt guilty about it. “People mess up. As long he doesn’t try to hurt either of us again, I can forgive him.”
“But if he does do something like this again?” pressed Vivi.
“…” Arthur sighed. “Then the Lewis we knew is gone for good.”
Vivi nodded. “If we can agree to have nothing to do with him if he ever tries something again then I’ll give him a chance too.”
Arthur smiled. “Thank you.”
…
“I missed him too,” muttered Vivi. “After everything he did. It’s so stupid.”
Arthur reached over and clapped Vivi on the shoulder
“And since you’re not going to ask…” Vivi looked towards Arthur as much as she could while driving. “Would you like to go out some time?”
“Um…” Arthur glanced in the rearview mirror back towards the van. “…We shouldn’t hide it from Lewis.”
“We won’t,” said Vivi.
“Okay, but let’s not show off in front of Lewis,” said Arthur. “It’ll be hard enough on him as it is.”
“Hm. Yeah, best not to push him,” said Vivi.
Not quite what he meant…although it was a fair point. “So, uh, you know more about dating than I do. What do you want to do?”
“We could go to Nekoya. Maybe see a movie depending on how we feel,” suggested Vivi.
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Nice and simple.
They broke the news to Lewis when they stopped for lunch. The only sign that Lewis was upset was his heart turning blue with a crack in it and his skull briefly becoming visible before he looked down. “Right. You two. That makes sense.”
“It was my idea,” said Vivi.
“I figured,” said Lewis.
“We’ll be keeping it pretty casual for now,” said Arthur. “And we can hang out during our downtime, all three of us.”
“…I missed that,” admitted Lewis.
“We all did,” said Arthur.
“Oh come on! That’s the fifth time in a row” complained Lewis as they played Super Smash Brothers Melee.
Arthur stuck his tongue out. “I’m just that awesome!”
Vivi giggled and punched his arm. “You dork!”
“We could play videogames again,” suggested Arthur.
“Uh, I tend to make electronics malfunction when I touch them,” Lewis reminded them.
“I bet I can find a way around that,” said Arthur.
“No one’s getting left out this time,” said Vivi. “Not after what happened last time.”
Arthur winced a bit at that. Yeah, feeling left out had probably contributed to being possessed.
The rest of lunch was awkwardly silent.
They got back to Tempo and headed straight to the Peppers’ house. The living Peppers were all waiting outside. “Arthur!” Paprika ran over and hugged Arthur around his legs. “You didn’t disappear!”
Arthur winced before hugging her back. “Yeah, I’m sorry for scaring everyone like that.”
Paprika looked up at Arthur with big eyes. “Are you gonna stay for dinner?”
…He guessed it had been a long time since he’d done that. He should try to make a casual visit, no earth-shattering revelations, no fights, no yelling, just spending time with them. Not today though. “I should get home. Uncle Lance is probably worried sick about me.”
Paprika pouted but nodded. “But you’ll come back?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, Sunday.”
Paprika smiled and nodded. “Okay!” Then she ran over to give Lewis a hug. That made Arthur feel a bit better. At least Lewis had support at home.
Mr. Pepper walked over. “Are you feeling better?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, sorry if I frightened anyone. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”
“I can’t really blame you,” admitted Mr. Pepper. He breathed in. “You know…none of us blame you for what happened. We know you’d have to be possessed to do something like that.”
Arthur smiled at him. “Thanks. That helps a lot.”
“I’m heading home,” said Vivi. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
Arthur nodded. “Okay, see you then.”
The rest of the Peppers walked over as Vivi drove off.
“Why is Vivi angry with you anyway?” asked Cayenne.
“I messed up her memory,” lied Lewis.
Belled frowned and pointed at his heart. “Wasn’t that orange before?”
Lewis hid his heart with his hand. “It’s changed color a couple of times before. I’m still learning how this works.”
Arthur knew what had caused the color change and was sure Lewis knew too. “Well, I better get going. I’ll see you guys…in a few days.” He’d see if he could convince Vivi to come too.
Uncle Lance was not outside when he got home. That was just how Lance was. Arthur walked inside. “I’m home.”
“In the garage!” Arthur walked in and saw Lance working on a car. Right, Lance had a larger workload while Arthur was gone. Lance glanced over towards Arthur. “You okay?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah.”
“Got it out of your system?”
“Yeah…I wish you’d told me, but I understand why.”
Lance paused in his work for a moment. “I was gonna tell you eventually. When things calmed down. I was worried you’d do something to hurt yourself if I told you too soon.”
Arthur thought for a moment. “Okay, I might not have reacted badly if it had been broken to me gently over time,” admitted Arthur. “Asking Lewis to just tell me might not have been a good idea. No changing it now though.”
Lance grunted. “Did you straighten things out with him at least?”
“Yeah, I still feel kind of uncomfortable around him, but it’s not as bad as before. Still kind of worried about upsetting him if I’m not careful, but if he didn’t-Oh, um, right. That.”
Lance gave Arthur a somewhat worried look. “What happened?”
“Nothing bad! Just a bit unexpected. Vivi asked me out on the way back, and I said yes. I guess we’re dating now,” announced Arthur. “Anyway, we told Lewis. He didn’t shout or try to hurt anyone, but I think we broke his heart a little.”
Lance narrowed his eyes. “Did either of them mention that Lewis thought you killed him to have Vivi to himself?”
Arthur’s eyes widened. “He-what?! Neither of them ever said anything about that!” He thought a moment. “Although I guess it didn’t occur to me that Lewis would try to come up with a motive for me killing him.” Finding out he’d been possessed had been enough reason for Arthur. Sometimes people just suddenly turned out to be awful or sociopaths or something, but now that he thought about it even they wouldn’t risk a murder unless there was something they really wanted. “Well, uh, that might make things…more awkward than they were already going to be, but I think we can move past it.”
Uncle Lance gave Arthur a long look. “I’d feel more comfortable if you put down some of those protections you keep around.”
That was fair. Arthur put those defenses up all the time, usually when he was feeling more anxious than usual. “Okay, and since that seems like a good segue point, I sort of quit the Mystery Skulls.”
Lance raised an eyebrow.
“I say sort of because I said I didn’t want to do the investigations except maybe maintain the equipment, but I’m fine with traveling with Vivi and Mystery and maybe Lewis if we all manage to make up. Just to hang out with ‘em, you know? I’d just hang out in a hotel room or the van while everyone else investigated. Vivi agreed with it and said she was going to take a break from investigating for a while. I think she needs the break just as much as I do to tell the truth.”
“She did,” agreed Lance. “I won’t lie, I’ll feel better knowing you’re staying away from that sort of thing, if only because I know you’ll be happier this way.”
Arthur laughed nervously. “Yeah, I guess it was a bit overdue.” He leaned against the car, watching Lance work. “So, what’s wrong with this one? Fan belt?”
“Yeah, broke and got stuck in the rest of the engine,” said Lance. “Hand me that ratchet, will ya?”
Arthur nodded. “Sure thing.”
The rest of the day was spent helping Lance repair the car, and thing were good between the two of them.
Vivi and Mystery came to the garage around lunchtime the next day. “Hey Arthur! Hey Lance!”
Arthur blinked. “Vivi? I wasn’t expecting you today.”
Vivi smiled. “I thought I’d surprise you. Brought you some lunch.” She hefted a large box.
“Oh, thanks. That’s nice of you.” Arthur frowned as something occurred to him. “Oh, wait. Is this a couple thing? It seems like a couple thing.”
“A bit, but I also wanted to check up on how you were doing,” admitted Vivi. “I know we should plan lunches ahead of time once you start fixing cars again since you won’t always be able to stop working on a car immediately.”
“But I could probably surprise you if I wanted to,” said Arthur.
Vivi thought for a minute before nodding. “I might have to take a moment to finish a task or helping a customer, but, yeah, you’d have an easier time coming to surprise me for lunch than I would you.”
Arthur nodded. He wouldn’t mind doing so on a slow day. “Okay, well, let me check how Uncle Lance is doing.” He ducked into the garage where Lance was taking a wheel off a car. “Can you break for lunch?”
“Gotta finish rotating these tires first,” said Lance.
“Okay, well, Vivi came to visit for lunch so I’m gonna go on break with her.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll join you two in a bit,” said Lance.
“Okay, thanks,” said Arthur as he ducked back out. He opened the door to his and Lance’s apartment. “After you.”
Vivi had brought over BLT’s. Hers was bigger than Arthur and Lance’s. Mystery had a sandwich that was even bigger than Vivi’s that he was scarfing down. “So how are you doing?” asked Vivi.
“It’s been pretty much the same as it’s been since the crash,” said Arthur. “I’m doing secretary stuff and really simple stuff. I’ve had a lot of free time that I’ve been using to look my arm over.” He swallowed. “I’m thinking of adding a heat coil to it or at least an attachment. Cold weather’s supposed to make stumps hurt.”
Vivi, familiar with Arthur’s fight against phantom limb syndrome, nodded sympathetically. “At least we live in Texas. I know the prosthetics are going to be worn by people in colder climates though.”
“Yeah, might need to make it adjustable,” muttered Arthur. Some places were colder than others. “So, what about you? Duet didn’t mind that you missed some work?”
“She considered it an emergency,” said Vivi. “I might need to put in a bit of overtime to make up for it, but that’s if Duet can find something for me to do. I’m more worried about Chloe.”
Arthur blinked. “Why would you need to worry about Chloe?”
“When Lewis and I started dating, she interrogated me about it for two days,” explained Vivi. “When she finds out I got my memory back, dumped Lewis, and started dating my other best friend, she’s going to try and press me for all the juicy gossip.”
Arthur made a face. “Yeesh. Is this how people feel when we ask questions about them? No wonder they don’t seem to like us.”
“It’s not just that. I have to keep her from figuring out Lewis is dead,” pointed out Vivi.
Arthur groaned. “She’s still after an undead boyfriend?” Vivi nodded. “Hey, uh, how do you think that would work?”
Vivi hummed. “I guess it would depend on the type of undead. Some would be safer to be in a relationship than others, and some are more likely to take advantage of you than others.”
“Where does Lewis fall in that spectrum?”
Vivi paused. “I’m sure. If he’s the way he was before, I’d say it’s safe, but, well, outside of our little trip we haven’t spent a lot of time with Lewis since he came back.”
“Yeah, I guess we could’ve handled that a bit better,” admitted Arthur. “Um, uh, you said you and Lewis wanted to bring me into your relationship. Do you think we might bring Lewis in once we see how he’s doing?”
Vivi was silent. “I love that you’re the type of person who would forgive Lewis after everything, but like you said we haven’t spent much time since with him since he came back. We’re not sure if he’s the same person still.”
“Oh…”
“That’s not a no,” said Vivi. “I just want us to be sure he’s who we fell in love with before we jump into something serious.”
That was fair. If Lewis was managing to hide all that rage…Well, Arthur was pretty sure dating someone who tried to kill you counted as being in an abusive relationship.
…Yeah, best to avoid that sort of thing.
Lance came in around then so they switched to lighter topics. Vivi and Mystery finished their lunch shortly afterwards and headed back to the bookstore.
That had been nice. Arthur thought he could enjoy that happening regularly.
Saturday rolled around. The plan for the date was an early dinner and a movie, but there was no rule saying they couldn’t hang out before then.
“How did you do that with one arm?” questioned Vivi.
Arthur grinned from where he was hanging upside down from the monkey bars. “I climbed up on top of them, flipped over, and moved up from there.” He shrugged. “It was pointless but so satisfying.” He was gonna need to get back into shape if he wanted to keep up his parkour habit.
Vivi grinned. “Any other acrobatics you wanna try?”
Arthur thought a moment. “Nothing I should get up to right now. Actually, can you help me down? I’m starting to get lightheaded.”
Vivi helped steady him as he climbed down. “You must’ve been a clown in a past life or something.”
“Clowns are clumsy though. Wouldn’t an acrobat be more likely?” asked Arthur.
“I dunno. Clowns have to be pretty nimble to get away from bulls.”
Arthur blinked. “Huh, you know I never thought of it like that.” And now he was picturing himself in a clown outfit. “So, are we gonna play fetch or not?”
“Yes, please!” said Mystery. “I brought my favorite frisbee!”
“Quick question: Why do you enjoy fetch so much if you’re not a dog?” asked Arthur.
“Foxes are canines,” explained Mystery.
Eh, that and many videos of playful foxes was enough to explain it for Arthur. “Okay then. Guess we’ll run around until we get hungry.” Then he grabbed the frisbee and threw it as far as he could.
The next couple of hours were spent on shenanigans in the park that may or may not have involved the swings, a baby carriage, and so many squirrels.
“We can never tell anyone about that,” said Arthur as they drove away from the park.
“I don’t think they’d believe us,” said Vivi.
Arthur glanced in the backseat where Mystery was playing with a squeaky toy. “What about other people who deal with weird stuff?”
Vivi paused. “Okay, maybe they would, but like you said we won’t tell them.”
“…We might tell Lewis one day when we actually find it funny,” commented Arthur.
Vivi hummed. “He might not believe the part about the squirrels.”
Arthur snorted. “Really? That’s the part that’s unbelievable?”
“He knows what we get up to.”
They were still giggling a bit hysterically when they got to Nekoya. “So, will Mystery be coming with us?” asked Arthur.
Mystery shook his head. “I’ll let you two have your privacy. Just bring me some chicken.”
“He’ll probably sneak into the movies somehow though,” warned Vivi. “We won’t be able to tell though so don’t worry.”
“Should we still get him a ticket?” asked Arthur.
“Oh, there’s no need for that. I won’t be using a seat,” reassured Mystery.
“Now, c’mon, I’m hungry,” said Vivi.
Arthur had been to Nekoya before. It offered mostly authentic Japanese cuisine with a few not quite authentic dishes for people who wanted something a bit closer to western fare. Arthur had a pretty good idea what he wanted to eat: Seafood udon. Maybe a couple of pieces of sushi.
“I’m getting a sushi boat!” decided Vivi.
“Ah. I was thinking of getting a couple of pieces of sushi,” said Arthur. “Mind if I poach ‘em from you?”
“Nah, go ahead. That’s not all you’re going to eat, is it?”
“I’m getting some seafood udon.”
“Dessert?”
“Oh, uh, maybe if I’m still hungry.” Something hit Arthur. “Uh, do we split the bill?
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, I know you’re sort of rich now, but I’m not gonna make you pay the whole bill when I’m getting something worth $40.”
“I’m not rich. I mean I guess I might become rich in a few years,” admitted Arthur. “But that’s if someone doesn’t come up with an improved version of the technology that will be used instead.”
Vivi snorted. “Don’t sell yourself short. I know you’re always coming up with ways to make your arms better. If anyone is going to make your tech defunct, it’s going to be you.”
Arthur blushed at that. “I’m not gonna make any assumptions. Anyway, since I’m stealing a bit of your sushi, I’ll pay like $10 of your bill. That sound good?”
Vivi hummed for a moment. “Sounds fair. Just give me $10 when you have the time. I don’t think they can split an item between two people.”
They spoke a bit more about work, customers, coworkers (Not that they had a lot of those.), and any difficult cases they’d had. While they were waiting for food, Vivi asked a bit more about his heating coil idea and asked if there was a cooling coil. He admitted that he probably could’ve used something like that when he’d first gotten his arm attached, but he’d been focusing on other things at the time.
While they were eating Vivi spoke about a book she’d read recently. It was a horror novel. Arthur was a bit relieved actually. She’d been avoiding the genre around him lately, and he’d been getting a little worried about her.
Arthur was still a little hungry so he ordered a scoop of red bean ice cream. Vivi ordered a decadent chocolate lava cake. Arthur might have stolen a bite.
They were pretty full when they headed to the movie theatre. They decided to see Big Hero Six, but had a little while before the movie started. They spent it goofing off in the small arcade. Arthur somehow managed to beat Vivi, much to her frustration.
The movie was good. The death of Tadashi hit them hard. Vivi figured out within a few minutes who the villain was. Arthur commented on how viable some of the tech in the movie would be in real life. He wouldn’t mind seeing if he could replicate a couple of them.
They both were rather curious about whether the fact the movie ended with two Baymaxes would come up in a sequel.
All in all, it was a pretty good night.
As Arthur stopped in front of Vivi’s apartment he turned to her. “That was pretty fun, not that different from just hanging out.”
Vivi chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. I like to think it means we were always compatible.”
“So, do I walk you to your door? I kind of want to.”
“I won’t complain if you do.”
Vivi’s apartment was maybe 50 feet from the van, but it was nice to spend another couple of minutes with her.
“So…we can do this again next week?” asked Arthur.
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, if there aren’t any movies we want to see out we can go to one of our houses and watch something.”
That made Arthur feel happy. “Great, that’s great.”
Vivi giggled. “And now I’m going to kiss you.”
That made Arthur freeze up. He had absolutely no experience with kissing. At all. He had no idea what to do. Vivi tugged him down a bit a planted a peck on his lips. She gave him a wink. “We can practice kissing next time,” she promised.
Arthur’s brain wasn’t working enough to respond.
“I’ll see you tomorrow when we go to visit Lewis,” promised Vivi as she opened the door. “Drive carefully, okay?”
Arthur nodded dazedly. “Okay.”
Vivi smiled and gave him a hug. “I love you.”
That got Arthur to grin goofily. “I love you too.”
They stayed like that for another couple of moments before parting. Vivi gave one last wave as she and Mystery entered the apartment.
Arthur took a moment to recover his wits enough to get back to his van, and he was grinning goofily the whole time.
That was the best day he’d had in a long time.
Arthur was still feeling ridiculously happy the next day as he spent the morning messing around with his heat coil idea.
He’d sobered up a bit when it was time to go visit Lewis.
“You’ll be careful? Vivi’s got those paper spell things?” questioned Lance.
“I’ll be careful, but I don’t know what Vivi’s going to be doing.” She may in fact be bringing ofuda to the dinner. “Other people are going to be around. Anyway, I don’t think Lewis is interested in attacking me anymore.”
Lance made a considering sound before nodding. “All right, but if he does anything to you, I’ll exorcise him myself.”
Arthur nodded. “I’m sure Lewis already knows.”
“Then I won’t hold you up.” Lance made a shooing motion. “Get out there and have some fun.”
Arthur smiled. “Thanks Uncle Lance.”
Arthur made a quick detour to pick up Vivi but arrived at Lewis’ house after about 20 minutes. “…Are you as nervous as I am?” asked Arthur.
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry. I took precautionary measures!” She rolled up a sleeve to show a couple of ofuda taped to her arm.
Huh, what were the chances?
“I wouldn’t worry. I spoke with Lewis when I was alone with him, and he was genuinely remorseful,” reassured Mystery. “Even after you two decided to start dating. A bit depressed, but not violent.”
Arthur could understand the depression. “Well, let’s see if we can cheer him up and hope we don’t make it worse.”
Things were finally getting better. Arthur didn’t want everything to slide backwards.
They knocked on the door. It was immediately opened by a deadbeat that chirped at them. “Hi there,” greeted Vivi.
“Jalapeño!” The deadbeat let out a startled sound before flying away. Lewis appeared a second later. “Oh, good, just you guys. The deadbeats keep trying to answer the door even though I told them to lay low!”
“They’re probably bored,” said Arthur. “Actually, maybe you can get your parents to let you out for a little bit to let them burn off some energy.”
“Yeah, just find a graveyard or some deserted forest or something,” added Vivi.
Lewis gave them an odd look. “That’s a nice suggestion. Come on in.”
“Thanks.”
“Vivi! Arthur!” Paprika and a few deadbeats ran over to give them hugs. “I missed you!”
Vivi gave Belle a smile. “You saw us just a few days ago.”
Belle pouted. “You guys left as soon as you got here though!”
Arthur laughed nervously. “Yeah, don’t really have a good excuse for that, but we are here now!”
“Yeah, I, uh, helped cook,” said Lewis. “It’s been a little off since I can’t smell anymore.”
“Nah, it tastes the same,” said Cayenne from the sofa. “Wanna watch Spongebob with us?”
“I was hoping to get some samples of the cooking,” admitted Vivi.
“It’ll be ready in 10, 15 minutes,” said Lewis. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Vivi pouted. “Fine…”
Arthur was distracted by the Spongebob episode by this point. “Oh, I love this one!”
“You’re an adult. How do you still like Spongebob?” questioned Belle.
“Hey, I was even younger than you two when this started airing,” pointed out Arthur. “You don’t always outgrow what you like.”
Vivi made a sound as she came over. “Personally, I don’t care for it much anymore except for the scary episodes.”
Arthur turned to Mystery. “What do you think?”
Mystery barked and put his head on Arthur’s lap like a normal dog. Cayenne giggled. “Dogs can’t see TV screens.”
Did…Did no one tell the Peppers about Mystery? Arthur met Vivi’s eyes, and she shook her head. Okay, pretend Mystery’s a normal dog for now. “He can hear it though.”
At this point Spongebob laughed causing Mystery to dart his head towards the television and growl. Guess he didn’t like Spongebob Squarepants.
True to Lewis’ word, Mr. Pepper was calling everyone over to eat within a few minutes. It was the familiar Mexican-Spanish-Italian cuisine, spicy enough that you could feel the burn in your sinuses. There were some lighter parts of the dishes for Arthur since they knew he couldn’t really handle spicy food.
“It looks delicious!” said Vivi as she happily started piling food onto her plate.
Arthur nodded in agreement as he got the less spicy food. “I have missed eating your cooking.”
Cayenne pouted. “You should’ve come by the restaurant!”
“That’s sort of my fault,” admitted Vivi. “I got horrible headaches when I visited you guys, and Arthur was keeping an eye on me, so…yeah.”
Arthur coughed uncomfortably. “I probably could’ve made more time to visit you on my own…” He could admit he’d been obsessed with putting his arm together and figuring out where Lewis was. “Guess I lost sight of things a little.”
“But how ‘come you guys didn’t come to visit after Lewis came back?” asked Cayenne.
You could practically cut through the silence that arose after her question. Arthur glanced at Lewis, who looked rather panicked. “Partly because Uncle Lance was being protective of me. I hurt my shoulder pretty badly. Partly because I have enough of a ghost phobia that I had to work myself up to seeing Lewis again. I still panicked pretty badly though.”
“My head hurt for a while after my memories were repaired, especially when I thought about anything to do with Lewis,” lied Vivi. Her head had been fine after a couple of days.
“It’s been a rough time for all of us,” said Mrs. Pepper. “Let’s not dwell too much on how we dealt with the pain and focus on moving forward.”
It was very good advice, even if it was difficult to follow. Arthur focused on eating and trying to come up with something to talk about with Lewis.
So he realized that Lewis looked more downcast than usual while staring morosely at his empty plate.
Oh. Oh…
“You can’t eat at all?” asked Arthur.
Lewis clenched his fists. “No.”
Arthur had suspected as much after eating out with Lewis, but the idea was just…horrifying. Lewis loved cooking and eating with his family. Losing that along with everything else just seemed cruel. Arthur felt guilt and wished there was a way to let Lewis eat something.
It was another few minutes before the idea occurred to Arthur. “Can you possess people?”
That got Arthur several shocked looks. “I have no idea,” said Lewis. “It’s not something that ever occurred to me to try.”
“But do you think you might be able to eat if you did?” pressed Arthur.
“I, uh, I don’t think it would affect the other person’s abilities. I guess I could, but I’m not sure I’d actually taste what they can,” said Lewis.
“It would make sense for you to be able too,” said Vivi around a mouthful of pasta. “You could still see and hear and touch, so you oughta have all the senses.” She swallowed. “Might have some sensory deprivation going on though.”
So, he needed less spicy food then? “If that’s the case he’d be better off trying it with me,” commented Arthur. “I…don’t mind giving it a try.”
“Whoa! Hold on! You got possessed by-” She glanced at Paprika and Cayenne. “That other thing!”
“I don’t actually remember any of it though,” pointed out Arthur. “I’ve tried. All I got was a headache and a weird sleep paralysis dream with a cat that turned into a raccoon.” He paused. “There weren’t any tanuki, were there?”
“No, just a couple of bats,” said Lewis. “What would a tanuki even be doing in Texas?”
Arthur gave Mystery a meaningful look. Mystery was doing his best to look innocent.
“You could try later with one of us,” pointed out Belle. “We could eat some potato chips or something.”
Lewis made a bit of a face at that. He wasn’t a big fan of junk food. “Nah, I think I’d rather try it while Vivi’s around in case something goes wrong.” He turned to face Arthur. “You’re all right with this?”
Arthur nodded. “Sure, just don’t do anything weird with my body.”
“Okay…” Lewis stared. “How do I do this?”
“Maybe if you hold his head or something?” suggested Vivi. “Or turn intangible and try to go through him…”
“Right.” Lewis carefully cupped Arthur’s face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Arthur’s. He was so warm…and he smelled the same he had in life. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.
Then Lewis was gone, but not gone. Lewis wasn’t holding Arthur, but Arthur could still feel him, just on the inside instead of the outside.
He opened his eyes, and felt a sense of disorientation. Wow, this feels really weird.
“Where’d Lewis go?” asked Belle, looking like she was about to cry.
“I’m right here,” Arthur’s mouth said with his voice. His head looked down to see Lewis’ heart floating in front of his chest. “See, here’s my heart. I can’t believe that worked,” Lewis continued. What an odd sensation. “I can stop.” Arthur could probably put up with it for at least a few minutes before he started freaking out.
“How do you feel?” asked Vivi.
“Off balance.” Lewis paused before lifting Arthur’s single arm. “…Oh.”
“I think it took some time for Arthur to get used to that as well,” commented Mr. Pepper.
Lewis picked up a spoon. “Everything seems bigger for some reason.”
“That’s cause you’re not a giant now!” said Cayenne.
Everyone else snorted at that. Arthur would have snorted if he’d still been in control of his body. “Yeah, ha ha,” said Lewis. Then he turned his attention to the plate. There was longing and trepidation. Lewis picked up some rice on the spoon. “I can smell at least. It smells amazing.” Then he spooned the rice into his mouth.
Arthur thought it tasted pretty good, if a bit spicier than he preferred, but Lewis panicked and flew out of his body so fast that Arthur choked. He coughed for a moment, slamming his hand into his chest. Someone was rubbing his back. “Are you okay?”
Arthur nodded as he managed to drink some of the milk he’d been given. “I’m fine. What was that?”
“It was spicy!” Arthur looked over at Lewis in surprise and recoiled a bit. Lewis had his skull out and was holding his hand up to where his mouth had been. “That’s…You ate it so I know it has to be mild, but it was like it was as spicy as the Bhut Jolokia special!”
“Well, if you haven’t eaten anything for a few months, I guess you lost your tolerance for it,” reasoned Mr. Pepper. “I guess you’ll need to work your way back up to it.”
Lewis let out a ghostly moan as several Deadbeats patted him to try and cheer him up. “Wonderful.”
“We’ll figure something out,” said Mrs. Pepper. She turned to Arthur. “And how are you?”
“My, throat’s a little sore, but uh…” Arthur gestured towards Lewis. “Your skull…”
Lewis’ sockets widened for a second before his face was back in place. “Oops. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. No one minds,” reassured Mr. Pepper, glancing towards Paprika, who was wide-eyed.
Oh, right, she was a bit scared of Lewis’ skull appearance. She wasn’t crying or anything though. She looked more startled than anything, so maybe she was less scared now?
Mrs. Pepper reached over to give Paprika a reassuring hug. “Let’s get back to eating, shall we?” she suggested. “We made a cinnamon-chocolate mousse for dessert.”
That was enough to get the younger kids eating dinner again, although Belle took a moment. She looked worried. Arthur couldn’t blame her. He sighed and took Lewis’ hand in his own. “It’s not much, but if you do want to eat something when I’m around, we can do this again.”
“Or he can possess me,” pointed out Vivi. “Or the Peppers, okay, maybe not his sisters. They’re probably a bit young for that to be safe. Point is Lewis can possess people other than you.” She gave Lewis a pointed look. “As long as it’s consensual. Got it Mister?”
Lewis smiled sadly. “Of course.”
Dinner was more or less back on track after that with more mundane topics of conversation, although Arthur noted that no one brought up the fact that he and Vivi were now dating.
Probably for the best. It would feel too much like he was shoving it into Lewis’ face.
Lewis saw them off. “Um, thank you for coming over.”
“It’s no problem,” said Arthur. “I…I really did miss you. I still kind of do if that makes sense.”
Lewis sighed. “That makes too much sense.”
Vivi patted his arm. “Hey, we’ll be seeing each other more often!”
Lewis perked up a bit. “Really?”
“Yeah, I mean I’m sort of grounded this week,” admitted Arthur. “But after that we can come visit sometimes after work.”
“Might come over a bit earlier next week so we can spend some time with you before dinner,” added Vivi.
Lewis made a sound not unlike a sigh as he finally smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, then we’ll see you next week, at the latest,” promised Arthur.
As they drove away, Vivi turned to Arthur. “It really didn’t bother you being possessed?”
Arthur shrugged. “I guess it should, but like I said I can’t remember the possession. Weird I know, but at least that’s one less trauma in my life.” He paused and glanced at Mystery. “That was safe for me to do, right?”
“As long as Lewis doesn’t try to tear your soul apart,” said Mystery. He gave a far too toothy grin. “And you can be sure he wouldn’t be around for long if he attempted it.”
Arthur sweatdropped. “Oh, uh, thanks.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re less susceptible to that sort of thing now than when we went to the cave,” continued Mystery. “You should be able to push him out before he does any permanent damage.”
“If you say so,” said Arthur. “But was there anything that made it obvious it wasn’t me in control?”
Vivi snorted. “You mean besides the heart floating in front of your chest?”
Arthur nodded. “Okay, yeah, I guess that would give it away, but was there anything else?”
Vivi hummed. “Well, your eyes turned violet, like Lewis’ before he died. Other than that, nothing obvious.”
“Possessions usually aren’t obvious,” said Mystery. “Partly because the possessor will try to keep anyone noticing and trying to remove them and partly because most entities aren’t powerful enough to affect the appearance of their host.”
Arthur wondered what it said about Lewis that he’d been able to change Arthur’s body at all. “Well, I guess we’ll be learning a bit more about it.”
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, if only to give Mr. and Mrs. Pepper a break. You know they’re going to insist Lewis possess them daily from now on.”
Arthur winced. “Yeah, I guess it would be nice to have a break from that.”
“And I’ll see if there’s a way for him to eat food without possessing anyone too,” said Vivi. “It wouldn’t work all the time, but it would probably be safer.”
Arthur nodded. “If anyone can find a way to make this work it’s you.”
Vivi got a determined look on her face. “Oh, believe me. I will.”
After a couple of weeks, things were getting better. Arthur wasn’t grounded. He was getting used to dating, although he still had trouble believing it sometimes. Things were slightly less awkward with Lewis. There was still a lot of walking on eggshells, but if they got on the right subject they’d relax and talk and laugh, like before the cave. Arthur liked to think their relationship was salvageable.
Then Arthur ran into a problem: Christmas. More specifically, Christmas presents.
Arthur generally would either buy someone a toy or game they liked or something he felt they could use. He already had an idea what to get everyone…except for Lewis.
Lewis was still causing electronics to malfunction if he wasn’t careful, and Arthur hadn’t had a chance to try and get around it so games were out. A movie or something might not be out, but Lewis hadn’t been in a movie theatre since March so Arthur wasn’t sure what Lewis would like.
It didn’t help that Mrs. Pepper regularly bought recently released DVDs and they had a streaming service.
Getting Lewis something he would use was out too. No electronic gadgets (again), and Lewis could literally make simpler stuff if he needed it. Arthur had seen him make a parmesan grater once when they couldn’t find theirs. It was actually really convenient most of the time.
So Arthur wasn’t really sure what to get Lewis. It had happened before, but he hadn’t been trying to mend a relationship the other years.
Arthur decided to just take the direct route. “Hey, Lewis, what do you want for Christmas?”
Lewis blinked. “Where’d that come from?”
“I’m just having trouble thinking of anything,” admitted Arthur as he pet Anaheim in his lap.
Lewis thought for a moment. “Huh. You know. I haven’t put that much thought into it. I guess if you figure out the electronics thing you could get me a new phone.”
Arthur winced. “I haven’t really had the chance to do much about that besides look up some theories and alternate energy sources.” He had some ideas, but it probably wouldn’t be ready by Christmas.
“Maybe a good book or some manga then,” suggested Lewis.
Arthur frowned. “But that’s what Vivi gives you…”
“Yep! I’ve managed to find some gems at work!” Vivi proudly proclaimed. She frowned. “Although, what have you been into lately?”
Lewis looked very nervous for a moment. “Skip Beat?”
“That sounds vaguely familiar,” muttered Vivi. “I’m sure I can find some volumes. How far along are you?”
“Volume 10.”
“Okay, don’t go any further than that,” instructed Vivi.
“Yes ma’am.”
“I guess I could just go for a book,” admitted Arthur. “But…I just would like to get you something more if that makes sense…”
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” said Lewis. “It makes sense that a ghost would be kind of hard to buy for.”
It still bothered Arthur though, even as Vivi showed him the romance books at Tome Tomb. “This one is about a time traveling FBI profiler.”
“Is it violent?” asked Arthur. “I’m not sure I want to give him something violent.”
Vivi sighed and put the book back. “Okay, here’s…no wait, he’s not into harem stories.” Vivi perused a bit more before pulling out a seemingly random book. “This one’s in a fantasy setting. It involves a princess running away from home to avoid an arranged marriage, starting a coup to steal the throne from her father, and marrying a dragon.”
Arthur stared at the book. “Can the dragon turn humanish?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, maybe.” Arthur took the book.
Vivi smiled. “Now, let’s take a look at the manga.”
Tome Tomb’s manga collection was quite eclectic. They had some well known manga, but a lot of it was obscure enough that you’d need an expert like Chloe. Arthur was getting ready to open his mouth and ask for a recommendation when he spotted one of the manga that were on display and let out a gasp. “That’s it!”
Vivi and Chloe gave him a startled look. “What is it?” asked Vivi.
Arthur pointed at the manga. “Sailor Moon!”
Chloe nodded. “It’s a classic and a pioneer of the magical girl genre, although I prefer Digital Princess Alpha myself.”
“I think Lewis has all the volumes already,” said Vivi.
“No, not like that. Sailor Moon has a transformation locket that’s shaped like a heart!” explained Arthur. “I could make something for Lewis to slip on over his…” Chloe was here. “Locket to make it look like Sailor Moon’s!”
“Oh…” Vivi frowned. “Would you have time for that sort of thing?”
“I think so,” said Arthur already drawing up plans in his head. “I can mold some steel in the shape, plate it with silver or chrome, something shiny, paint or enamel it, set some crystals in it, I think I can make this work!”
“Well, I know you wanted to give Lewis something meaningful this year, so I won’t try to talk you out of it,” said Vivi. “But at least buy the book so you have a back up in case you can’t make it in time.”
“Deal.”
Arthur started drawing out the plans as soon as he got home. He had memorized the size and shape of Lewis’ heart by now so he sketched that out first. Then he started sketching how big the Sailor Moon attachment would have to be to keep it nice and snug. Oh, he could line it with something nice and soft, like felt or velvet. Velvet would probably fit with the theme a bit more.
Before long, Arthur had the plans all drawn up. Now he had to make it. The metal working part wouldn’t be too hard. He just had to wait to get the final okay from the doctor to put his arm back on, which he should get in a few days. Until then, he could order the other supplies he needed and wait for them to arrive.
Thank goodness for the internet.
A few days later, Arthur was finally able to reattach his prosthetic. He let out a sigh as he rotated his left arm. This was a bit of an earlier model, but it wasn’t too different from the busted up model. It just required a lot more maintenance. He could put up with that for a few weeks.
Arthur worked the metal into the proper shapes, connected the pieces, electroplated it with chrome, coated it with various colored enamels, set the crystals in place, and lined the interior with velvet.
By the time Arthur finished, he thought he had a pretty good replica, just in time too. Christmas was only a couple of days away.
Arthur slipped it into the giftbox, took care to wrap it, still made a mess wrapping it, decided to just tape the box shut and put it in a nice gift bag instead, and now he just had to wait for Christmas day.
…
But first he could really use a soda.
Christmas finally came around. In the Kingsman household that meant sleeping in until 10, having a brunch that included cinnamon rolls and shrimp ‘n grits, and a quick present exchange.
Most people would question why Lance and Arthur only gave each other one present each, but they tended to buy things for themselves if they needed or wanted something, which made them a bit hard to buy for.
Arthur got…Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. “Uh…Thanks, but why this game?” Not that he didn’t appreciate it, but it wasn’t his usual genre.
“It’s got mysteries and ghosts. Figured it would make you feel better if you give Vivi a ride to a haunted house and stay behind,” explained Lance.
That did make a certain sort of sense. Arthur made a not to give it a try sometime.
Now, it was Lance’s turn. He took the tissue paper out of the gift bag, shortly followed by…gun oil. “Ah. Thanks. Was starting to run a little low.”
Arthur nodded. “I noticed. I was sort of worried you’d buy more before I gave it to you.”
Lance nodded in understanding. “I figured I could wait a little.” He chuckled. “Now, go spend some time with your girlfriend.”
Arthur blushed but had to admit he did want to give Vivi and Lewis their presents today. “Thanks Uncle Lance. I’ll be back for dinner.”
He and Vivi were going to spend the day together. They were just planning to spend time with Lewis too…assuming they could convince the Pepper parents to let Lewis out for the day.
“Please, please, please, please, please.”
Yeah, they were a couple of adults begging like little kids, so what?
Mr. and Mrs. Pepper stared at them for a moment before Mr. Pepper turned to Mrs. Pepper. “It is Christmas.”
Mrs. Pepper nodded. “True. I think it would be all right.”
Vivi turned towards the living room. “Ya hear that Lewis? We’re busting you out of here!”
Lewis was in the middle of letting Paprika stick bows on him. “Oh, Paprika, I kinda need to go.”
“Not yet.” Paprika stuck another bow on him.
“Now?”
“No.” Another bow.
“Now?”
“No.” Another bow.
“Now?”
“Hm…” Paprika stuck one more bow on Lewis. “Okay, you’re good.”
“Great!” Lewis stood so quickly that he floated off the floor for a moment. “Thanks for the makeover. I’ll be back for dinner, promise.” He walked over to Vivi, Arthur, and Mystery. “So, what’s the plan?”
“It’s a surprise,” said Vivi. “C’mon.”
As soon as Lewis was in the van he let the bows fall through him and with a flash of purple fire changed his jacket and ascot into a purple sweater and lilac scarf. Handy.
It was a short drive to a nice hill that overlooked about half of Tempo. The grass was pretty brown this time of year so they sat in the back of the van with the doors open. It was a bit cool, but Lewis was keeping them pretty warm.
“Okay, gift exchange time!” proclaimed Vivi. She paused and looked at Mystery. “Did you get us anything?”
Mystery nodded. “My blessings and protection. That means a lot coming from a kitsune of my ability.”
“You didn’t have money to buy anything,” deadpanned Vivi.
“That too.”
“I got you chicken jerky,” said Vivi, holding out the bag. She gave him chicken jerky all the time.
“That’s fine by me.” Mystery immediately dug into the jerky.
Vivi rolled her eyes before holding her gift out to Lewis. “Here you go. Merry Christmas.”
Lewis carefully unwrapped the gift. It was a romance novel and the 11th volume of a manga that Arthur didn’t recognize. Lewis gave Vivi a big smile. “Thank you. I love them.”
Vivi handed Arthur his gift. “And here’s one for you.”
“Thanks.” Arthur quickly unwrapped it. “Ooh, Star Wars: New Republic. Awesome. Thanks again.” He handed Vivi a wrapped package. “And here’s a gift from me to you.”
“Ooh.” Vivi unwrapped it. She got an odd look on her face as she pulled out an odd white device. “What is it?”
“A spirit box. You talked about trying one.”
Vivi looked startled for a moment before smiling. “Thanks Arthur. I’ll make sure to use it next time I’m on a job.”
Arthur smiled back. “Happy to hear it.” He turned to Mystery. “I wasn’t sure what to get a kitsune. It sounds like the foods you’re supposed to like wouldn’t last. So instead I got these sweet potato treats from this lady at the farmer’s market.” Mystery immediately stuck his head in the bag and started snapping up the treats. “…And clearly I had nothing to worry about.” He held out the last gift to Lewis. “And then there was one.”
Lewis took the bag, pulled out the tissue paper and blinked. “Oh wow…” He pulled out the locket replica. “This is amazing! Where did-Did you make this?!”
“Yep, open it up.”
Lewis found the latch and flipped it open. “Oh, it’s a box! That’s pretty cool.”
Arthur chuckled. “It’s not a box exactly. I designed it so that you could keep your heart in there if you wanted to.”
Lewis blinked again. “You-really?”
“Yeah, uh…” Oh wait. Maybe that was a taboo thing. “You don’t have to use it for that if you don’t want to. You could use it to hold other stuff if it’s not comfortable.”
Lewis studied the locket for a moment before placing his heart inside and closing it. The locket floated in front of him. “It’s pretty snug…soft though.” He smiled towards Arthur. “Thank you. I love it, really.”
Arthur felt butterflies in his stomach. “I’m glad. That means a lot to me.”
“I haven’t really had a chance to go out shopping, so I made you guys some small cakes,” said Lewis as he pulled some boxes from…somewhere. Arthur decided not to question it. He checked the labels on them before passing them out. Arthur checked his. Looked like chocolate with caramel and sea salt. “Thanks I’ll have some after dinner.”
“It’ll be hard, but I’ll wait too,” said Vivi as she closed her box.
Mystery was, once again, already eating his gift. Looked like peanut butter from what Arthur could see.
“So, do we head back or stick around for a while?” asked Lewis.
“The plan was to just sit here for a bit,” admitted Arthur.
“Might talk a bit, but mostly just watch the town,” added Vivi.
“Sounds good,” said Lewis.
The four took a moment to organize themselves. It ended with Lewis between Vivi and Arthur with his arms around them and Mystery sprawled across their laps. Even better, Lewis was to Arthur’s left, which meant his natural warmth was making Arthur’s arm ache less than it had lately. It was soothing and left Arthur feeling much more relaxed than usual. He could stay like this for hours.
It had been maybe 10 minutes when Vivi tugged at his sleeve. He gave her a lazy look. “Hm?”
Vivi pulled him a bit closer. “We should ask him now,” she whispered into his ear.
Oh…She was okay with it? He glanced up at Lewis who seemed to be trying very hard to ignore whatever they were doing.
Arthur hated that Lewis was being left out at all.
Mind made up, Arthur pulled himself up so that his and Lewis’ heads were at roughly the same level. Lewis smiled at him. “What’s up?”
He was going to lose his nerve if he waited any longer so Arthur decided to just take the plunge and kiss Lewis. On the lips. It wasn’t a deep kiss or anything (He still wasn’t very good at kissing.), but it got the point across.
As soon as Arthur pulled away, Vivi took advantage of Lewis’ surprise to swoop in and give Lewis another kiss. Lewis stared in shock for a couple of moments before starting to tear up and pulling Arthur and Vivi into a big hug. Arthur and Vivi hugged him back and kissed his cheeks. Lewis killed them back. Vivi and Arthur grinned at him and each other.
Mystery snorted. “It’s about time.”
Vivi snorted. “God, yes, why did we wait so long?”
“Does it matter anymore?” asked Arthur.
Lewis shook his head. “No, I…I’m just grateful it was still possible.”
Vivi nodded. “Yeah, now let’s just enjoy it for as long as we can.”
Arthur was going to enjoy this for the rest of his life. He let out a content sigh. Things were finally getting better than they were before the cave.
Life was good.
#giftfic#msa#mystery skulls animated#Arthur Kingsman#Vivi Yukino#Lewis Pepper#Mystery the not-Dog#Some Lance#It was supposed to be for msa holiday spirits but I think I missed a message and got kicked out#oops#slow burn#recovery#Arthur has a pretty nasty freak out#Vivi is angry#Lewis is realizing how badly he messed up#msaholidayspirits2019#They said I could post it after all!
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Kiss of Life - Final chapter
So, after months of poor Dr Gold being socially awkward and emotionally constipated he finally (with the help of his friends) got his girl. It seems fitting to leave them in their happy place. Thanks to everyone who followed and commented and sent asks to these idiots! This is the end.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] {Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Part 26] [Part 27] [Part 28]
AO3 link
Belle coughed, her eyes watering as she choked on the dust and what felt like the desiccated remains of a hundred insects, swept from the top of the stacks. She blinked rapidly, rubbing streaming eyes as she told herself to get higher on the ladder before trying to clean. Pushing herself up the rungs of the wheeled ladder, she tucked a dust-covered lock of hair behind her ear and coughed again as she looked over the top of the bookshelves.
After almost a full day’s cleaning, the library was looking much better. The books had been taken down and sorted into piles depending on whether they were staying or going, and she had made spreadsheet catalogue of everything she was keeping. She needed to start making a list of the titles she wanted to procure, as well, but that could wait. The Mayor’s allowance would have to be used wisely.
All the stacks bar the one she was standing on had been cleaned, the windows washed, light bulbs replaced and the blinds taken down and scrubbed. The library was brighter and lighter, almost free from dust (she still had to mop the floor once she’d finished with the stacks) and smelling of orange oil and Windex. The circulation desk was clear, awaiting the new computer system she had been promised, along with a new chair and the children’s supplies she had ordered.
She finished cleaning the shelving, rubbing vigorously to ensure the last speck of dust was removed, and heard a faint creak from the library door, followed by a rhythmic tapping. Smiling to herself, she kept her back to the noise. She had a fairly good idea who was making it.
“Well, there’s a lovely sight.”
Gold’s voice floated upwards, and Belle grinned, turning a little so that she could eye him over her shoulder. He was smiling up at her, hands folded over the handle of his cane, in the black suit and red shirt combination she liked so much.
“I could say the same about you,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“We had a date, remember?”
“At seven,” she reminded him.
“It is seven,” he said gently.
“It is?” Belle groaned. “No wonder my feet hurt! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”
“No matter,” he said. “It’s not as though we made a reservation anywhere.”
He held up a hand, and she turned to take it, using him for balance as she stepped down to the floor. She dropped the dirty rag into a bucket of murky water and wiped her hands on her overalls before stretching up on her toes to kiss him and then dropping back onto her heels.
“Sorry, I’m a disgusting, dirty mess,” she said.
“You look beautiful.”
“I bet I have dust on my nose,” she said, and he grinned, his eyes twinkling.
“Well, that’s true, but you’re still beautiful.”
“Flatterer.” She slipped her arms around his waist, letting out a contented sigh. “Want to come upstairs and check the apartment out with me? I could do with taking a shower.”
“Why don’t I let you do that?” he suggested. “I seem to remember you telling me that the apartment is somewhat lacking in furniture.”
“Nothing but a rickety old kitchen table and chairs,” she confirmed ruefully. “I need to get that sorted. Ruby said she’d drive me out to the next town to pick up a bed on Monday.”
“Does the shower work?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with the hot water,” she said. “The whole thing needs a good clean and a lick of paint and a little TLC, but it’ll be nice and cosy when I’m done.”
“And do you have something to change into?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Brought over a bunch of my stuff this morning,” she said. “I figured I might as well start moving in. It’ll encourage me to clean the place up.”
“In that case, I’ll wait down here,” he said. “I’ll see if I can rustle up some dinner for us.”
“Good, I’m starving!”
She kissed him again, and trotted off to the door that led to the staircase up to her apartment. The place looked somewhat forlorn, the single bedroom empty of anything but the suitcase she had brought over, a fine layer of dust and two dead flies on the windowsill. Belle was certain that she could make it into a home, and was excited by the prospect. She took a towel, toiletries and a clean outfit into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. At least she had thought to clean the bathroom, so she had somewhere clean to get changed. She would have to return to her father’s that evening, though; she didn’t have the energy to clean any more of the rooms, and she had nothing to sleep on in any case.
The water was pleasantly hot, a decent amount of pressure coming out, and she spent some time in the shower, scrubbing the dust and grime from herself and washing her hair. Once out, she dried off and dressed in a little woollen dress in dark green over tights and comfortable boots. A small cardigan kept the chill from her, and she brushed out her hair and applied a little lipstick before heading back down the stairs. The gentle sound of music was floating up from the library, something classical and soothing that made her smile.
“Sorry I took so long,” she said, as she rounded the corner into the library. “I was—”
She cut off, mouth falling open. The library blinds had been drawn, the light dim except for thick candles flickering on the circulation desk and around a thick blanket, set with cushions. Gold was standing next to it, looking by turns nervous and self-satisfied, his jacket draped over the desk to reveal his waistcoat and the red silk shirt beneath. There was a vase of flowers, red roses and lush greenery, and an ice bucket with an open bottle of champagne sticking out of it. She could smell something savoury, garlic and herbs and wine, and she caught his eye with a grin.
“A picnic?” she said, and he shrugged.
“We did have a date, after all.”
Belle smiled broadly, and wandered over to the blanket, settling herself down on the cushions.
“How did you manage to arrange all this?” she asked.
“Well, Dorothy and Jefferson helped me carry everything to the car,” he said, getting down beside her. “As for the food, I arranged for that to be delivered. Fresh pasta from Marco’s. I hope that’s alright.”
“Delicious.”
She settled back with a sigh as he went about preparing their meal, opening up dishes and setting them down between them. The savoury scents were stronger, and Belle sniffed eagerly.
“Baked rigatoni, and ravioli with a squash and sage filling,” he said. “There’s a little basil pesto on that one. Help yourself. There’s garlic bread, too.”
Belle took a fork and dug in, watching as melted cheese stretched and snapped before taking a mouthful of the rigatoni. Rich ragu sauce made her mouth water, and she made a contented noise as she chewed. Gold grinned, and reached behind him for some champagne flutes, pouring them each a glass. Belle put her fork down to take hers, and he raised his own, holding her gaze.
“To us,” he said quietly, and they clinked glasses before taking a sip.
The champagne was crisp and fruity, foaming on her tongue, and Belle set down her glass and sighed happily. He was grinning at her, eyes twinkling, and she took up her fork again, this time aiming for the ravioli.
“This is amazing,” she said. “You’re just the best, really.”
“We should start as we mean to go on, don’t you think?”
“Candlelit pasta picnics in the library?” She winked at him. “I’m in.”
He grinned, taking a forkful of rigatoni, and there was silence for awhile as they ate. Belle mopped up pesto sauce with a piece of garlic bread, and then speared a piece of ravioli and popped it into her mouth. Gold licked oil from his thumb and shifted a little, lounging back against the cushions. He glanced across at her, raising an eyebrow.
“How is Operation Librarian going, then?”
Belle chuckled, and reached for her champagne, taking a sip.
“I’ve mostly sorted the books into what’s staying and what’s going,” she said. “I need to make a list of the titles I need, and get the equipment in her and set up. At the moment I’m thinking we should be able to open in a week or so. Providing the computer system works and the books I order arrive.”
“Exciting.”
“It is.” She dipped bread into the rigatoni sauce, enjoying the pungent taste of garlic and herbs and the richness of tomato sauce and olive oil on her tongue. “I had a talk with the elementary school. I’m going to run some after-school classes with the kids. I thought I’d keep the hospital library service going too, only this time I should have more of a selection of books for the patients to choose.”
“Sounds as though you’re really finding your feet,” he said. “If I can help at all, let me know.”
“I may need kisses and snuggles after my long days,” she said, pouting, and he grinned.
“Consider it done.”
She smiled, and took another sip of wine before digging into the pasta again.
“I told my dad I was moving out, too,” she said. “He wasn’t happy.”
“Ah.”
Gold’s voice was neutral, and Belle sighed.
“It wasn’t just about you,” she said. “Although he was a pain in the arse about that, too. It’s just - I don’t think he wants to be on his own. He doesn’t seem to get that I might want my own life, that I have things to do other than look after him.”
“He managed when you were at college, I presume.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Guess he got used to having me around.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to put your own life on hold, however.”
“Good, because I have no intention of doing so.”
They shared a smile, and Gold reached for his drink.
“Well, here’s to your new life,” he said, raising the glass. “Belle French, Librarian Extraordinaire. Keeper of the Secrets of Storybrooke and Bringer of Knowledge.”
“Granter of Library Cards, Protector of the Stock, and Seeker of the Overdue Tomes,” added Belle.
“Long may she reign,” said Gold solemnly, and they clinked glasses as Belle giggled.
They finished off the pasta, and Belle wiped the last piece of garlic bread around one of the dishes, chewing it up before sucking olive oil from her fingers with a contented hum. Gold was watching her, a tiny smile on his face.
“Done?”
“Done,” she said, with a sigh. “That was delicious.”
He cleared away the dishes, packing everything into the bag it had arrived in, ready for the trash, and poured them another glass of champagne. Belle settled back against the cushions, pleasantly full and happy, and he shifted a little, edging closer. Belle turned on her side, leaning over to kiss him gently.
“This was perfect,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
Gold reached up, gently brushing a curl back from her cheek, finger trailing along her jawline.
“That was only the first course,” he said, and she groaned.
“I couldn’t eat another thing!”
“All the more for me, then,” he said, with a grin, and she frowned.
“Wait, what is it?”
“Tiramisu,” he said. “But it can wait, don’t worry.”
“Not too long…”
She leaned in, pressing her mouth to his, and his hand slid around to cup her head, holding her as they kissed, his tongue gently stroking against hers. He broke the kiss, soft lips parting, and his eyes were gleaming darkly.
“There are other things we could do,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. “Things I know you’ll like.”
“Hmm.” She smirked at him. “Getting you naked one time appears to have improved your confidence. I like it.”
“Well, it was a very memorable experience,” he said, brushing a thumb over her lower lip. “Life-changing, in fact.”
“For me, too.”
She kissed him again, more urgently, and he shifted closer, his hand sweeping down her back and tugging her closer before slowly rolling her onto her back. Belle moaned, stroking her fingers through his hair, enjoying the taste of him and the firm weight of his body atop hers. Gold pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck and making her shiver.
“Fooling around in the library,” he murmured. “We’ll get in trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” she gasped. “I’m not expecting either of us to stay silent.”
“Good.”
He kissed lower, hands sliding down her body, cupping her breasts and tracing the curves of her waist and hips before tugging at the dress and pulling it upwards. Belle pushed up a little, shrugging off the cardigan, and he knelt up, tugging the dress over her head and tossing it aside before lowering her back down. The air was cool on her skin, but his body was warm, his touch welcome, and she let her head roll back against the cushions as he kissed down over her belly, fingers hooking over the waistband of her tights and underwear and pulling them down in one.
It felt strange, lying there in the midst of the candlelit library on a pile of blankets and cushions, practically naked. Belle closed her eyes, losing herself in the press of his lips and the sweep of his tongue as he pushed her thighs apart, and she rose up with a moan of pleasure as his tongue flickered over her clit. Gold groaned, hands flat against her thighs, his breath hot against her tender flesh, his tongue soft and wet.
“That’s so good!” she whispered.
He began to lick her in a slow, steady rhythm, sending jolts of pleasure through her with every circling pass of his tongue. She had curled her fingers in his hair, soft locks wrapped around them, and his tongue flickered and swirled, making her moan, a flush blooming in her cheeks and at the top of her chest. His hand moved a little, one finger stroking through wet flesh, gently pushing inside her as his tongue swept over her clit. The feel of it increased the sensations, and she moaned, pushing her hips upward a little to let him slide deeper. Slowly, he drew out the finger almost all the way before thrusting it in again, and Belle let out a tiny cry, feeling her body grow taut, feeling her climax approach. He thrust into her again, tongue flickering, and she whimpered, rocking her hips, wanting more of him inside her, wanting all of him.
She sucked in a breath and held it, her pulse pounding in her throat, and exhaled loudly as she came with a loud cry, her body jerking. Gold groaned again, pulling the finger from her and putting his mouth to her once more, his tongue swirling over her flesh. She tried to catch her breath, letting an arm fall over her eyes as her chest heaved, and he began kissing his way back up over her belly until he was braced on the palms of his hands. She let the arm fall to the side, and he was gazing down at her, a smile on his face and a soft look in his eyes. His mouth and chin glistened with fluid, and she watched as he wiped it off with a swift movement of his palm.
“Well, look who’s overdressed,” she said, a little breathlessly, and reached up to tug at the knot in his tie.
It didn’t take long to get him naked; he remembered to take off his shoes before his pants this time, as he dryly remarked upon. Belle giggled as she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, his own hands shoving frantically at his underwear.
“Patience, Dr Gold,” she chided.
“Fuck patience,” he growled. “You taste too good for patience.”
She chuckled, reaching for one of the condoms he had dropped on the blankets, and tore open the packet just as he finally tossed his underwear into the darkness beyond the candles. Within moments he was pushed up against her, Belle’s hands on his shoulders, her chest heaving as she met his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and pressed his forehead to hers, a moment of calm.
“I love you,” he whispered, and she nodded.
“I love you too.”
He moved, pushing inside her slowly, and she gasped, knees drawing up, feeling him sink deep, a low groan coming from him as his body pressed against hers, his cock buried within her. She wrapped her legs around his back, holding him close, feeling the heat from his body, the wetness where they were joined. He began to move with slow, grinding motions of his hips, tight circles letting him rub against her as he pushed deep inside, and Belle moaned, clinging to him, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his back. It felt incredible, and she let her hips lift and fall, increasing the friction between them, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
“God, that’s amazing!” she whispered.
He bent his head to kiss her neck, mouth sucking at her pulse point, his tongue sweeping over her skin. She could smell her own scent on him, her arousal mixed with the musk of his sweat, and she tightened her grip on him, holding him close, pressing kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his throat. Gold thrust deep with a groaning gasp, his cock hard and rigid inside her. He quickened his pace, hips pumping, and let out a harsh cry as he came, his cock pulsing. Belle moaned, pumping her hips against his, the sensations taking her with him in a wave of pleasure and a rush of heat.
He was still moving with short, shallow thrusts, and she kissed along his jaw, nipping at his chin. His mouth found hers, and his movements slowed and stopped as he kissed her, a deep rumble of contentment vibrating through them. Gold let their lips part, breathing hard, his nose just brushing hers, and Belle smiled happily.
“Well,” she murmured. “That was wonderful.”
He grinned, kissing her again, and shifted a little, pushing himself up on his elbows, fingers idly stroking her hair as their breathing eased. Belle glanced around, noting that one of the candles had gone out. Bookshelves were square blocks of shadow beyond them, thin strips of yellowish light coming in through the blinds from the streetlights outside.
“I wonder if that’s the first action the library has seen,” she said, and Gold chuckled.
“With any luck it won’t be the last.”
“Not if this librarian has anything to say about it, that’s for sure.”
His grin widened, specks of gold gleaming in his eyes, his skin warm in the candlelight. There was a softness in his gaze, a look of tender devotion that made her heart thump a little harder, and his finger trailed across her cheek, tracing its curve.
“Move in with me,” he murmured, and Belle blinked.
“What?”
He smiled.
“Move in with me.”
She opened and closed her mouth, her heart thumping.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wow,” she remarked flatly. “So it takes you months to work up the courage to ask me out, and now you have there’s no stopping you, hmm? What happened to Mr I Overthink Everything?”
He shrugged.
“Maybe it feels right to ask precisely because I spent so long overthinking everything.”
“So you’ve thought about this a lot, then?”
“I have.” He kissed her forehead. “My house needs you in it. I knew it the moment I woke up with you. Actually, fuck it, I knew the moment you left after having the flu, I just didn’t want to admit it. I love you, and I want to wake up beside you and make you breakfast and snuggle up with a book every night.”
Belle smiled, her heart swelling with love for him, and stroked his cheek with a gentle finger, brushing a lock of his hair away before it flopped back.
“Tell me more,” she whispered.
“I want to buy groceries together and cook while we drink wine and sing along to music,” he said. “I want to dance with you in the kitchen and take bubble baths and drink tea on the back porch while we watch the snow fall.”
“You didn’t even get to the hot sex part and I’m sold.”
He grinned at that, leaning in a little.
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of hot sex,” he growled, and Belle giggled.
“Well, since you’re so full of surprises and clearly have no intention of taking things slow, are you planning on proposing any time soon?” she asked, with a wry grin. “Be nice to have a little warning, if so.”
“That was my plan for Tuesday,” he said gravely, and she giggled again, stroking her fingers through his hair.
“Okay, now I know you’re not serious.”
“Well, not about that,” he admitted. “Not yet, anyway. But I do think it makes complete sense for you to move in.”
“You sound sure of yourself,” she teased.
“Yes.” He kissed her nose, and then winced. “But not that sure, so please put me out of the misery of this budding anxiety attack. Will you move in with me?”
This time she kissed him, a generous, open-mouthed kiss that took a little time to wind down. Belle pulled back, smiling up at him.
“I’d love to,” she whispered. “But can you wait a few months?”
He blinked.
“Of course,” he said. “We can wait as long as you like. What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s just - well, I went from my dad’s place to college, and then from college back to my dad’s, and if I come straight to you - well, I’d kind of like to prove I can make it on my own first, you know?”
“I understand,” he said gently. “I’ll even help you decorate this place, if you like.”
“And risk getting paint on one of your suits?” she said, tutting. Gold grinned.
“I was thinking we could wear painting overalls,” he said. “Or just do it naked, that could be fun.”
“We could get a canvas and throw paint at each other and roll around on it,” she said. “Create a background art piece for the next nude calendar you do.”
She giggled as he tickled her, and kissed him again.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I really do.”
“Well, I love you too,” he said. “How long are you gonna make me wait?”
“Hmm…” She pursed her lips. “Let’s say first of May. That seems an excellent time, wouldn’t you agree?”
He smiled, a sudden flash of sadness in his eyes.
“Neal’s birthday,” he whispered, and Belle bit her lip.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I didn’t realise. Well, we can pick another day, if you—”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, it’s perfect. The two best things in my life, coming to me on the same date. It’s perfect.”
He kissed her again, lips gently pulling at hers, and Belle thought as though she would burst with happiness. She settled back against the cushions with a sigh, reaching up to cup his face with her palm.
“So, this is it,” she said. “The doctor and the librarian, making a life together.”
“Against all the odds,” he added. “The misunderstandings, the insecurities…”
“The doctor putting his foot firmly in his mouth every five minutes…”
“We got there in the end,” she said. “And I love you.”
“Yes.” He kissed her nose. “And I love you too.”
She reached up, lips finding his, gently pushing them apart so that her tongue could slide inside. Gold rolled onto his side, his arms going around her and hugging her close as the candles sent out their flickering light into the dark of the library.
#fic: kiss of life#dr!gold x candy striper!belle#rumbelle fic#my fic#rumbelle#rather large estate#rumbelle smut#lemons
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Lucky Thirteen Ch 2
Cavendish has to tell Dakota something important. Too bad his nerves and the world are complicating matters.
Ch 2: Second Thoughts
Dakota yawned and hugged his pillow. He hated waking up early on the weekend and would be in bed for at least.another two hours. However, Cavendish was an early riser and was already dressed for the day (like Poor Richard, he believed it would make him healthy, wealthy, and wise). The ring box was tucked in Cavendish’s lapel, safe and secure from prying eyes.
He hopped out of bed and made his choice.
Cavendish tucked the receipt into his pocket and walked out the door.
He couldn’t do it.
Dakota could charm everyone with a sandwich in one hand and a cola in the other.
Cavendish was just the guy who died.
Like, a lot.
His stomach grumbled, but Cavendish hushed it. “Jeweler’s first, then we’ll see about breakfast. Honestly, you’re as bad as Dakota.”
If he’d come along, Dakota would have dragged him into the nearest Paul Bunyan’s for a breakfast burrito and coffee.
Breakfast burrito. That’s breakfast inside of a burrito.
Pigs in a blanket. That’s hot dogs sleeping inside a bread blanket. Hey, a brenket! Yeah, that’s a thing now. Cause I said it.
“Get out of my head, Dakota,” Cavendish muttered. “You’re messing with a highly efficient and organized mind.”
Once the voice bearing an uncanny resemblance to the real-life Dakota was driven out, Cavendish opened the ring box. The rings were on the cheap end of the scale, but they still ate up a good portion of the month’s budget.
Luckily for Cavendish, Dakota never paid attention to the budget chart. He was usually more interested in the area Cavendish had deemed ‘Money for the Snackhound’s Appetite’.
He hadn’t initially planned on using actual rings either.
It was a run-in with Milo and Sara at the grocery store that convinced him otherwise. Sara was extra-vehement at his decision to use edible fruit-flavored candy rings instead, and she was not taking the ‘it’s way cheaper’ excuse.
You can’t substitute mass-produced neutron bracelets for the one-of-a-kind Lazuli Kingdom bracelets, Sara had protested indignantly.
According to Milo, she was just quoting Dr. Zone Episode 22: Jewel of the Earth, so her perception of romance probably wasn’t realistic.
Still, they hadn’t left him alone until they were absolutely positively certain that he wasn’t going to propose to Dakota with a generously sized hunk of sugar.
The jeweler wasn’t far now. He just had to cross the street to get there.
Are you sure you want to do this? a voice asked. You spent the past few months gathering your nerves, and now you’re just tossing it out on a whim? And what exactly are you going to tell Milo and Sara? They sacrificed their time to help with the ring selection, the least you could do is follow through.
“I’ll tell them Dakota said no,” Cavendish retorted, drawing attention from passersby. He ignored them, slipping the ring box into his pocket to avoid the curious stares. “You’re making it harder than it actually is.”
Pot calling the kettle black.
“Oh, be quiet. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” Cavendish muttered. He thumped his forehead in an effort to get the nagging voice out of his mind, and the receipt dropped from his hand. The paper fluttered down to the crosswalk.
“I’m having a crisis here. The least you could do is cooperate,” Cavendish told the paper.
As he bent down to pick it up, a cacophony down the street drew his attention. People screamed and ran for their lives, a car crashed into a fire hydrant, and a motorbike with two people swerved to avoid traffic, dragging a colossal dinosaur made of ham behind them with a bungee cord.
Cavendish scrambled out of their way, avoiding the wheels of the motorbike, but a sharp hit to the gut cut off his air supply and left him wheezing. Something knocked him off his feet and he tripped into a squishy and meaty wall.
Dakota didn’t know Cavendish’s whereabouts. He would still be asleep, lost in some faraway dreamland where bars of chocolate served as transportation and rivers were made of chunky salsa.
Cavendish would die in this hammy tomb, and they had no method to travel back a few minutes to prevent it.
Wait, ham?
His vision returned, and Cavendish realized he wasn’t dead.
Well, duh. No civilization in history claimed heaven smells like ham. Well, maybe the Island Dakotas would say otherwise, but they’ve never been a conventional sort.
On the bright side, his internal organs hadn’t been displaced.
Cavendish crawled out from the wreckage of the ham dinosaur, wrinkling his nose at the ham-scented fluid that clung to his suit. The smell reminded him of Lard World, and not in a good way.
“Can’t you wait until I’ve had breakfast before you try to kill me?” Cavendish griped as he rushed back to the crosswalk, desperate to find the receipt he’d dropped.
He only found three measly scraps, and the other pieces had long scattered to the wind.
He could still salvage the situation. Run into a store, request receipt paper, make a forgery. As long as he got the price right, there shouldn’t be an issue.
Yeah, it was totally a foolproof plan.
“You’re Cavendish, right? One of Milo’s friends?” a voice behind him asked.
Cavendish yelped, jumping away from the man and clutching his chest in shock. His back hit the curb of the sidewalk, making him groan in pain.
“Great Scott, are you trying to kill me?” Cavendish spat once his brain worked again. The man before him looked vaguely familiar, though it didn’t click until he saw the brown cowlick. Right, they played that hodgepodge board game together on the day he and Dakota were trying to close the deadly vortex above Milo Murphy’s home. He racked his brain, trying to recall a conversation where Milo had mentioned his parents. “You’re...Marlin?”
A nearby manhole opened, revealing Danville’s resident underground lunatic. “I, Scott, the master of Subterranous in all her garbagey glory, answer to your summons, Overlander! Who would you like me to trap in the sewers for the next 48 hours?”
“Not every ‘Great Scott’ is an incantation to summon you,” a woman sighed, pushing the manhole on Scott’s head until he disappeared beneath the surface.
“Okay, I get the message! Mildred and I have important stuff to do anyway!” Scott called.
“Anyway, it’s Martin. And that’s Brigitte for future reference,” the man corrected as he helped Cavendish up. “You got clotheslined by that bungee cord pretty good. Are you okay?”
Cavendish brushed the gravel off his suit, though he knew it would take a trip to the laundromat to get the fabric back into pristine condition. “I’ve had worse. Don’t worry.”
Then he noticed the helmets Martin and Brigitte carried. “Were you the drivers of that motorbike?” he asked, gesturing to the upturned vehicle. A bungee cord was caught in its back tires, leading to the fallen ham dinosaur a few feet away.
Brigitte laughed nervously. “That was me. I found my old motorbike from an extreme motocross race I did back when I was a college student and fixed it up. The gas pedal was touchier than I thought and Martin’s sleeve got caught in the second seat while he was getting breakfast.”
“I picked the right day to wear a motorcycle helmet in the kitchen,” Martin added. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Cavendish said as he brushed past them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to forge a receipt so I can return a pair of rings to the jeweler’s.”
“I’m going to ignore the bit about forging a receipt,” Brigitte said slowly. “But did you mean these rings by any chance?”
She fished out a familiar ring box from her pocket.
Cavendish took the box gratefully, annoyed at himself for having missed such a crucial object. His plan would’ve fallen apart at the seams if he’d lost the rings.
“How come you’re going back on your engagement?” Martin asked.
“I-we...Dakota and I aren’t engaged!” Cavendish stammered. Were Milo’s parents always this nosy? “Where did you even find these rings?”
Brigitte shrugged. “Found ‘em after the bike overturned. They fell out of your pocket.” She returned the box, and Cavendish secured it inside a pocket that had a button flap.
The most logical reason of course.
“Milo and Sara mentioned that they went to the jeweler’s with you a few weeks ago,” Martin remarked. “They were really excited for you. Especially Milo. He called you his weird but cool uncles that one only meets in family reunions.”
It was awfully hard not to preen at Milo’s good words. The boy didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
While Cavendish was fully capable of finding flaws with everything that existed in their universe, he still couldn’t air a single grievance against Milo Murphy.
“Anyhoo,” Cavendish coughed before the conversation entered further awkward territory. “I should really be going. Besides, Dakota could be waking up any minute now.”
“Does Dakota know?” Brigitte asked.
“I think-um, no. No, he doesn’t know I have these. Unless he went snooping, and I wouldn’t put it past him,” Cavendish admitted.
Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “I meant, have you told him how you feel yet?
Prying woman!
Before Cavendish could snap, deny, refute, or utter a curt goodbye, Martin’s phone emitted the chorus of Chop Away at My Heart.
“Ah, could we put this conversation on hold?” Martin asked sheepishly.
How about indefinitely? Cavendish bit back.
Martin tapped a green circle and held the phone to his ear. “Hello? Oh, it’s you,” he sighed. He looked completely and utterly done with life.
At Cavendish’s questioning glance, Brigitte mouthed Doofenshmirtz, her fists clenching in irritation.
Cavendish found himself oddly grateful for the man’s interference though. Spared him from arguing his rationale for returning the rings.
Martin’s eyebrows flew up in shock. “No, I didn’t give you permission to turn the oven into an Escape Pod-inator!”
Doofenshmirtz said something that Cavendish couldn’t make out.
“For the last time, vending machines aren’t plotting to take over Kansas! What would they even rule there-ugh, forget it. Just forget it. I’m not dealing with this. No, I’ll handle the cleanup. You find something else to do that doesn’t involve exploding appliances.”
Martin hung up, muttering something very unkind about couch-crashing pharmacists.
Doofenshmirtz is Professor Time. Professor Time’s rumored to have dated the strangest things. If we can’t return the rings, we get his help for your proposal.
“I didn’t say I was proposing!” Cavendish protested, much to Brigitte and Martin’s surprise. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Er...sorry. I just had the most peculiar idea where Professor Time-that is to say, the guy crashing in your home...helped me with-ah, my dilemma.”
Martin’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’ll really do that? Doof will be tagging along with you for a while?”
Brigitte elbowed him sharply.
“Ow, your joints hurt,” Martin said, rubbing his side gingerly. “What I meant to say is that it’s great you’re reconsidering and asking someone you think can help you out.”
Well, it can’t hurt to try one more terrible idea that’s sure to backfire with all the force of a nuclear explosion.
Cavendish logic is way too much fun I swear.
#lucky thirteen#milo murphy's law#balthazar cavendish#vinnie dakota#dakavendish#fanfiction#martin murphy#brigitte murphy
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Thanks To You | JJK+MYG
↬ Pairing: Jeongguk x Yoongi
↬ Summary: Jeongguk is forced to make a huge decision in order to help save Yoongi from himself. Yoongi is forced to navigate his life without him and starts to learn that broken hearts can heal and it's possible to start loving yourself.
↬ Genre: Angst
↬ Word Count: 4.2k
↬ Rating: T
↬ Warnings: Mentions of alcohol abuse
A bottle falls to the floor as a pale white hand blindly reaches around his nightstand trying to find the half-empty bottle from the night before. Finally grasping it the person pulls it towards his lips and grimaces at the warm beer, but continues to drain the bottle until there is nothing left. As soon as the bottle is set down his stomach lurches and he’s up hurrying to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach which only consists of alcohol. He wipes his mouth and leans back against the wall trying to catch his breath and blink away the tears. Last night was the worse night of his life and nothing he does can erase the memory of the black hoodie disappearing out the door and out of his life.
“I wanna breakup.” Yoongi’s head turned in shock of hearing his boyfriends voice. The doe eyes looking back at him were bloodshot and angry, which told him that he was finally caught in his lie.
“W-what?” Yoongi felt his words slur a little. “What are you talking about Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes looking down at the guy he’d loved for five years and motioned with his chin at the glass of liquor sitting on the table in front of him along with the bottle of whisky with only an inch of alcohol left, “You know what I’m talking about hyung. I can’t do it anymore, you promised you would go to meetings but I come home early and you’re sitting here downing a bottle instead of being at work.”
“This was a moment of weakness Jeon—”
“Don’t lie to me!” The anger in his voice surprised Yoongi, “You think I haven’t come in and found signs of you drinking or the fact that even though you take a shower I can still smell the whisky on your breath while you sleep.” Jeongguk was tired of being in a relationship with someone who loved alcohol more than they loved him. It was something he’d dealt with as a child and swore he would never deal with again, but then he’d met Yoongi and his love for music. Yoongi’s piano matched with his voice had been a sweet harmony that had started the decent into the hell he was living in now.
“J-Jeongguk, please.” Yoongi begged, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he was begging for. He knew that lying to him had been wrong and he was sorry for lying to him but he had just wanted him to be happy and not be disappointed at him. All the words he tried to put together to express how much regret he felt only came out jumbled with a slight slur.
Jeongguk shook his head, “We can’t even have a proper break up because you’re too drunk.” He scoffed in annoyance and walked past his ex-partner and into the bedroom where he opened the closet and pulled down a duffle bag. He sat it on the bed and unzipped it before grabbing some of the clothes off the hangers and throwing them in, not even bothering to fold them, he continued to throw them in the duffle bag in anger.
“Jeongguk just talk to me.” Yoongi walked in and hit his shoulder on the door frame. He stumbled to the corner of the bed followed by a string of curses as he sat down and rubbed his shoulder.
“I’m done talking. All I’ve done for two years has been talking and I can’t do it anymore.” He threw a shirt into his bag and glared. “You’ve been more in love with the bottle than me for the past two years and I just can’t compete with it. I don’t even know where I belong in your life anymore.”
“Here!” Yoongi pointed to himself, “You fit right here!” he was beginning to panic now that Jeongguk had started to pack his clothes in a bag to leave. “I love you, I love you more than anything! How could you think that?!”
Yoongi realized his mistake the moment it left his lips and Jeongguk’s face shifted from defeated to angry. “How could I think that? Seriously? Do you know how many times I’ve come home to find you passed out on the couch with a beer in your hand despite you continually promising me that you were going to meetings. I gave you benefit of the doubt and thought maybe you had just had a moment of weakness and didn’t want to tell me, but then I started finding shit telling me that the drinking never stopped. Having the neighbors judge me while I take the trash to the road and all you can hear are bottles rattling over each and every bump. Even the guy at the gas station we normally go to stopped me this morning and asked if everything was okay because you’d been going there more frequently to buy booze and then, to top it all off, I come home early for the first time in months and you’re sitting at the table drinking whisky. What part of that is supposed to make me think you love me after the only thing I asked was for you to go to counseling and AA so things would get better. You’ve been lying to me for over a year Yoongi.”
Jeongguk moves on to the dresser and starts throwing more of his clothes in the bag. Yoongi stands up and grabs Jeongguk’s hand, “I’ll try harder this time. I’ll actually go to the meetings and even go to therapy, please don’t leave me.” Yoongi’s voice was thick with emotion. He loved Jeongguk and didn’t want to lose him and would do anything he could to make things right. He was ready to purge his life of any temptations just to make him stay.
Jeongguk slowly pried his hand out of Yoongi’s grip and looked at him, “No.” he said barely above a whisper. “I need to do this for me, but more importantly I need to do this for you.”
Yoongi pulled back like he’d been burned, “What?”
“All I’ve done is enable you Yoongi. Maybe you need to lose something you care about so you’ll open your eyes and see how destructive you are. If I have to sacrifice our relationship to do that then that’s what I will do and it’s because I love you so much that I’m doing this. I haven’t stopped loving you Yoongi and I’m not sure I ever will but I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to come second to someone’s addiction. You know exactly how my father was but you continue to follow the same path as him. I told you when we got together that as long as you tried that was good enough for me. I’ve spent two years hoping and praying that you would get back on track like you used to be because I didn’t want to leave you. I’ve put off leaving as long as I can but I’m done Yoongi.” Jeongguk threw a few more items of clothing in his bag and zipped it up. “I’m going to stay at a friend’s house. I’ll come get the rest of stuff as soon as I figure out my living situation.”
Jeongguk walked around Yoongi who stood there in shock at how fast things had spiraled out of control since Jeongguk had come home. Coming to his senses he followed him out into the living room and cut off his path to the door and instantly fell to his knees with his head bent. He stared at his shaking hands for a moment before speaking, “Please don’t leave. You’re the only family I have. I’ll give you proof everyday that I’m at work, or I’ve got to the AA meetings. I’ll even prove I’ve gone to counseling. Jeongguk you’ve given me a wakeup call and I promise to put everything I have into fixing this and making you happy.”
He shook his head looking down at his ex-partner and fought against the tears that threatened to fall. “You need to do this for yourself Yoongi, not for me. I really hope that you’ll get help and do it because you want to get better, not because someone else told you to. I won’t let you resent me because you’re forced to do something you don’t want to.” He walked around Yoongi who quickly turned his head and watched as the man he had loved for almost six years walk out the door.
Yoongi forced himself to stand up and stumbled a bit feeling light-headed from not eating the night before. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge seeing Jeongguk’s lunch items he had packed for worked stacked up in containers. His stomach lurched and he shut the door to the fridge. Deciding to leave the house and go to the store for something to eat Yoongi grabbed his jacket and left the apartment. He got to his truck, keys in hand, and opened the door. He stopped as soon as he was about to get in knowing that Jeongguk would only be more disappointed in him if he recklessly got behind the wheel. He closed the door and decided he would walk to the store. Maybe walking in the cold would help sober him up and he’d be so cold that he wouldn’t be able to get trapped in his thoughts.
The cars that drove by caused a gust of wind that made him shiver. After about a mile of walking, he started cursing his decision to walk to the store. He regretted not calling an Uber, but the store was only two miles away from his apartment so he didn’t think it would be that bad. Once at the store, the warmth enveloped his body and he sighed in relief at the feeling. Heading straight to the deli he was already deciding what he would get. Once at the counter he saw the guy that always took his order when he would come here to order when he never felt like cooking.
“Ah, Yoongi! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” The old man called out with a smile.
He bowed his head and gave the man a small smile, “Hello.”
“I’m surprised to see you since Jeongguk-ah was just here. Is something wrong with the sandwiches?” Yoongi’s stomach sank at hearing Jeongguk’s name.
“Nothing is wrong with the sandwiches I just came to get mine separately.” He forced a smile, “Can I just get my usual?” the man nodded his head and left.
His grip on the counter tightened at the mention of his ex. With the wound still fresh it caused a searing pain in his chest. Everywhere he turned memories of Jeongguk awaited. It felt like his world was slowly closing in and he wasn’t sure he could survive it.
3 months later
Yoongi laid on the bed and looked at Jeongguk’s side still wrinkled from the last time he laid there. His hand ran over it as the realization had finally sunk in that he was gone and he wasn’t coming back. He decided that the best thing he could do to himself was purge everything that reminded him of his ex. He stood up and held his breath as he pulled the sheets off the bed and threw them in the wash getting rid of the first memory of his ex. He knew keeping the sheets for that long wasn’t a good idea, hygienic wise, but he hadn’t been able to remove Jeongguk from being beside him at night, even if it was only in his mind. He felt a small relief to get rid of it but also a bit of guilt over removing part of Jeongguk from his life.
He looked around and frowned at all the things littered around the room that reminded him of his ex. He had never come back for the rest of his stuff which hurt Yoongi the most knowing that he would rather not have his things than to come back and get everything. Grabbing one of the boxes that he had saved he started placing the items in it. He grabbed Jeongguk’s first camera that he had stashed away and even though he knew it was a bad idea he powered it on and looked at the pictures he had saved on the memory card. The pictures loaded and the first one was a picture of the two of them smiling brightly with a mountain range behind them. It was from the last time the two had gone to visit Jeongguk’s parents. He flipped through the rest of them and saw how happy the two of them were in that moment. The last thing on the memory card was a video from Christmas the year before when Yoongi had gifted him with a brand-new camera. Yoongi had saved up for months to be able to buy him a top of the line DSLR camera which Jeongguk had grabbed when he packed his clothes. Yoongi’s chest ached but he pushed through and turned off the camera placing it gently in the box.
Yoongi moved on to the other items in the room. He grabbed the picture frame that had a picture of Jeongguk and his brother. It didn’t take too long for him to get through all of the things in the bedroom that belonged to Jeongguk or things that reminded Yoongi of him. He grabbed the marker he had put in his back pocket and wrote Namjoon’s address on the box before taping it up. He had reached out to a mutual friend between him and Jeongguk and asked If he could mail the boxes to him and if he could pass them off to Jeongguk so he could have his stuff back. Namjoon had been surprised at the request but agreed to do so.
While the two had shared a lot of friends Yoongi didn’t want them to feel like they had to choose between the two and some of them had even been mad at him. After everything happened, he had become a recluse and mostly stayed in the apartment so he didn’t have to talk to anyone. It was after a particular bender that he had come to a decision to get the help that he needed. Jeongguk had been right about him needing to get to a point where he wanted to better himself and not just because Jeongguk wanted him to. Deep down Yoongi had hoped that Jeongguk would find out from some of their friends and it would have him calling him and trying to work things out, but it had been two months and he hadn’t heard anything. All of his friends had agreed not to get in the middle of everything going on between the two of them so he hadn’t heard anything about Jeongguk since he left.
After taping up the box he brought it into the living room and set it by the door and dusted off his hands before looking around and seeing what else he needed to pack up. The hoodies hung up by the door, the gaming console under the tv, his editing equipment he had stacked up by the computer that he hadn’t opened yet, all of the pictures of his family and their friends, and even more than he had realized. It took two hours and five boxes to pack up all of Jeongguk’s things. The apartment looked incredibly bare after packing up all of his things making Yoongi realized that Jeongguk had made it feel like a home. The thought was depressing but he tried to look at it as a clean slate to try and move on like Jeongguk probably wanted him to.
6 months later
“Hi, I’m Yoongi. I’m six months sober and working every day to keep it that way.” He bowed his head a little as the group softly clapped. He hated having to do introductions as often as he did but he knew that Alcoholics Anonymous had been a big help in keeping him sober all these months. He tuned out the rest of the members that introduced themselves like they always did. The new guy that had come to the meeting had captured Yoongi’s attention. He didn’t look like he belonged here as he was polished and dressed nicely while most of the people here were blue collar workers who were dressed in casual clothes. He held a certain aura that demanded respect but his face seemed inviting and friendly. He hadn’t realized he had been staring for so long but the guy raised an eyebrow at him and Yoongi averted his eyes and looked down at his hands.
“Welcome Jimin, we look forward to getting to know you and hearing your story. Our topic for today is relationships and how your addiction is affecting them or how it has affected them in the past. This can be friendships, significant others, and even family. Would anyone like to get anything off their chest?” Everyone sat there with their hands in their laps avoiding the eyes of the leader of the group.
“I’ll go.” A hesitant voice answered. Yoongi looked up and saw the mysterious guy with his hand raised slightly.
“Wonderful, you have the floor Jimin.” The lady smiled.
“Umm, like she said I’m Jimin. The relationship with my family has always been strained. They are the type that wants the perfect child so everyone can think we’re the perfect family. My father has pushed me into taking over the family business since I was a teenager but I never wanted to. I started drinking as a teenager to release the pressure that was put on me. I handled it well until my father got sick and stepped down as CEO and I was voted into his position. The stress of the job and the fact that I hate it weigh heavily on me. I started drinking to the point of blacking out to escape it all. I was putting my health at risk and worrying my mother to death. It was when I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and seeing my mother distraught that I decided to get help.” He cleared the emotion from his throat before continuing. “I’ve struggled to do it on my own and even gone as far as to getting a DUI and only spiraled from there. My little brother begged me to try AA, so here I am. I can’t say no to him.” He gave a sad smile. “So, I’m here for my mother and little brother in hopes I can stop causing them so much worry.”
A few more people volunteered after Jimin and Yoongi watched him as he seemed to pull himself away from the group after he had told his story. “How about you Yoongi, would you like to share anything?”
The fact that the new guy had the courage to go first Yoongi pushed his nervousness down and decided to share his story. “Uh, I’m Yoongi. I started coming here about six months ago after losing the one person I loved more than anything. My addiction ended up ending our relationship and hurting him in the end and it took me a long time to come to terms with him leaving. I realize now why he did it and I can’t blame him for leaving. I put alcohol before him for years and I can see why he left, it wasn’t that I didn’t love him and he wasn’t worth it, but I hid it because I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me and from there it grew into being able to do it without the looks or judgment. I don’t really have any family and he was the only family I had so I definitely felt like I lost everything at the time. I still hope that maybe at some point we’ll end up together and it will all be in the past but I still haven’t heard from him so I’m sure that I ruined any chance I had at being happy.” He cleared his throat afterward feeling incredibly awkward at talking about what happened and his feelings about the whole thing. “yeah, that’s pretty much it.” He shrugged.
1 year later
Yoongi sat at the table in the coffee shop rubbing his hands together from being outside in the cold. He had closed himself in the studio over the weekend and he was surprised to find it so cold when the temperature had been nice before he had gone into work. His phone vibrated and he picked it up scrolling through the emails. He groaned seeing one from the CEO requesting that he get a track done by the end of the day so it could be sent to the artist.
After getting his life together and continuing to go to his meetings he had managed to land his dream job. Being a producer had been his dream job since he was a teenager and he was finally getting to live that dream. He had become one of the most successful producers in his company with a lot of his work topping the charts recently. Deciding to deal with it after a cup of coffee he sat the phone down and looked out the window watching people walk down the sidewalk and wondering what their day was like.
“Hyung?” It was a voice he was all too familiar with. His heart felt like it was going to jump from his chest and run away. He turned to look at the owner of the voice and found himself being able to give him a genuine smile.
“Jeongguk.” He bowed his head a little in greeting.
“How are you?” The younger male seemed just as nervous as he did.
“Uh, I’m good actually. I’m working at Bangtan Music as a producer so I can’t really complain at the moment.” A small chuckled escaped him.
Jeongguk’s face broke out in a huge grin, “Oh my god that’s amazing! I know you’ve been wanting to that for years. Wow…anything I’ve heard?”
“Well, the number one song on the charts right now was produced by yours truly.” The conversation between the two was flowing easily and Yoongi was surprised that he felt at ease talking to him. He had been worried about the possibility of running into Jeongguk for the year they’d been apart. He was afraid that having to see him again would cause a downward spiral of misery, but it seemed like in the past year his heart had healed some.
Jeongguk gasped dramatically “So, I’m talking to someone famous?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Yoongi they didn’t have your— Oh.” Jimin came to a stop with two cups in his hand realizing that he was interrupting. “Sorry I hadn’t realized you were talking to someone, I’ll just sit at another table until you’re done.”
He shook his head and grabbed one of the cups, “No it’s okay. Jeongguk I want you to meet Jimin, I met him at my AA meetings.” Yoongi couldn’t help but smile proudly. He had finally been able to let Jeongguk know that he had truly been working on himself the whole time they had been apart. “He’s been a key part of helping me make it almost a year of being sober.”
“That’s incredible hyung, I’m so proud of you.” A loving smile spread across his face before turning to Jimin, “It’s nice to meet you” he held out his hand, “I know I probably don’t have the right to say this but thank you for sticking close to him and helping him through everything.”
Jimin bowed his head slightly, “It’s been pretty easy being by his side. We keep each other in check.” He smiled brightly.
Jeongguk seemed surprised, “Oh…are you two together?”
Yoongi shook his head, “No, but you never know what the future holds. I’m definitely thankful for him and I enjoy his friendship.” He smiled at Jimin who smiled back.
“I’m really happy for you Yoongi, truly.” Jeongguk’s phone started to ring and he pulled it out, “I have to get this, but I’m glad I saw you. Maybe we can get the group together like old times.” Yoongi nodded.
Jeongguk bowed his head to the two of them before walking off and bringing the phone up to his ear, “Hey babe. Yeah, I got caught up at the coffee shop but I’m on my way.”
Yoongi had expected hearing that Jeongguk was dating would deeply hurt him, but other than a small discomfort he was perfectly fine hearing that he was with someone else. He even felt happy for him knowing that he deserved someone better than him and he was glad he finally found happiness in someone else.
AN: This was written for a fic exchange for @yoonkooknetwork and since the fic has now been posted I can post it here. The prompt was given to me but I think it turned out pretty great compared to come of my other stuff. I hope you guys liked it. First time I've written mxm so this holds a special place in my heart.
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