#I knew it would be soon since they started to turn gray but I wasn't sure how long lol

[applejarjar]

Babies!!

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 10 (Part 1)

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Redstar turned to Cloudthunder in a time of need and was hurt when she turned away from her. But how could Cloudthunder not refuse? She understood Redstar's desperation - but she would not kill her leader.

(Cloudthunder, warrior, female, 43 moons) (Redstar, leader, female, 68 moons)

---

"You wanted to see me, Redstar?" Cloudthunder asked. She was heavily pregnant now, and dragging herself up to Redstar's den was a difficult endeavor. Redstar stared at her warrior, feelings of guilt and frustration swelling inside her. Cloudthunder shouldn't have had to do this. And still, she was going to ask of her a task that she knew no one else would grant her.

She hoped that she would forgive her for putting this on her shoulders.

Redstar felt aching and frail. Her infected wound was getting worse by the day, and she knew that despite Windfur's best intentions, it would not get better. Redstar made sure of that.

She thought that it might recover in time for her to throw herself at the woods again. But it didn't, and she was running out of time. She tried to do it herself, but despite her best efforts, it wasn't working. Cloudthunder would go into labour soon, and that meant the woods would be stalking their walls. Cloudthunder had to do this. She was the only one who had the biggest motive to do so.

Redstar quietly gestured for Cloudthunder to sit, and the warrior did so. She gave her leader a calculated stare.

Redstar closed her eyes. Relax. She had to relax. It was getting harder and harder for her to maintain composure as of late - no thanks to her broken leg. But she had to remain calm - for Cloudthunder.

"I'm sorry I called you to my den," she started carefully. "For what it's worth, you're not in any trouble."

Cloudthunder didn't reply, but her posture visibly relaxed. She blinked at her. "Well, that's a relief. But I still assume it's important."

"It is," Redstar confirmed. She slowly rested her head on the bump of her bedding, her blue eyes filled with exhaustion. Guilt weighed heavily on her heart for what she was about to ask. She thought, after she killed Lakestar, that she could spare her clanmates from having to make any more horrible decisions or cruel sacrifices. But she had no choice, and she was asking Cloudthunder to do this. It was a sacrifice she had to make, and one she hoped her clanmate would have enough motive to assist with.

Redstar must've been silent for too long, as the white and gray molly's ear flicked with concern. Cloudthunder tilted her head. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It's just…it's difficult to ask this of you."

"So, it's a favor, then."

"More of a burden."

Cloudthunder's orange eyes flickered warily. "...Redstar?"

The calico tabby took a deep breath. "First, I understand what I'm asking of you. No, I am not underplaying the seriousness of this. This is not something I am taking lightly." Redstar's blue eyes glanced up at her warrior solemnly. "Second…I need you to help me die."

Evidently, that wasn't the task that Cloudthunder was expected to receive. Her eyes widened and she recoiled, her mouth agape. She barely meowed, “W-What? Redstar, why?”

“It's been several moons since the woods have been fed, Cloudthunder.” Redstar felt her throat tighten. "I have been confined to camp for too many moons. Windfur will not listen to me."

“Redstar, no. I...I can’t do that.”

“You must. It doesn't need to be violent. You could escort me out of camp,” Redstar bargained. She felt the anxiety in her heart rise as Cloudthunder's expression showed reluctance. "It doesn't need to be far. Just close enough for me to drag myself to a Woodcrawler den."

"Redstar." Cloudthunder repeated, aghast.

"Please, Cloudthunder. I understand I am asking something horrific of you. I know this is something you and the Clan would never want to undertake. It's why I - it's why I took the burden of murdering Lakestar."

A tense silence followed this reply. Redstar continued hastily, as though the warrior was about to leave. "I would never ask this of you if I didn't have to. I promise I will be fine - StarClan will heal my wounds once I die."

“Why me?” Cloudthunder finally pressed. Her tail twitched and her body tensed.

“Because no one else has a strong enough reason to see a cat fed to the woods right now than you. Windfur is not taking me seriously. Iciclepool and Hopechase will not grant me this - I know them too well. The newer and younger members couldn't possibly understand why I would ask this of them. But you do. You've seen what the woods can do as well as I," Redstar hissed. "If it’s not me, it will be your kits. One of my lives could save them. Protect them.”

A heavy, tense silence fell upon them. Redstar glared into Cloudthunder's eyes intensely, waiting for her to say something, anything. She watched as the warrior's ears folded back, then tore her stare away from the leader to stare at the den's walls. Unknown emotions were brimming at the surface, and Redstar wanted nothing more than to make her feel safe and unburdened.

"Please, Cloudthunder. Speak to me," she rasped.

“...Redstar, I understand your dilemma. But...you can’t save everyone." Cloudthunder meowed. She refused to look at her leader.

Redstar's eyes widened as she felt her heart skip with despair. "I'm not trying to save everyone. I'm trying to protect you. Your children," she bargained desperately.

"Redstar, I know what you're trying to do. I understand your plight. You're trying to be the opposite of Lakestar, and we respect that. It's why we follow you," Cloudthunder finally turned her gaze back towards her, and gently placed her tail on her leader's flank. "...But…the things," Cloudthunder swallowed as she avoided speaking the name of the Living Tendrils. "Those…are unavoidable."

"Cloud."

"Redstar, do you remember when Sprucetail gave birth? When Weaselfang died the moon prior?"

Redstar's fur bristled. She knew what she was implying and she didn't like it. She wanted to object and hiss and snarl, but her throbbing pain surging through her body left her with no strength.

"I don't know if feeding the woods will change anything, Redstar," she sighed. "Kits have always died here. We fight to prevent it, every time. But I understand that I may not have a litter at all by the end of this moon. I’ve spoken to Iciclepool, and Olive. I've come to terms with that.” Cloudthunder's copper eyes were glazed with sorrow. "Your death won't prevent it."

"T-Then what about the others?" Redstar gasped, desperately clinging to hope. "What if it takes a warrior? Takes you?"

"Do you have no faith in our walls?" Cloudthunder pressed. "A Woodcrawler isn't going to break through our walls, and you're not actively sending us into the woods."

"But Tree and Shiverpaw - "

"Survived and successfully ran home. We know how to identify Deep Root entities, Redstar. We know how to run from them. And we have those Twoleg fire sticks. Talontooth has helped collect some pine resin - it will be perfect for preserving flames. In fact, we may be able to repel the Tendrils with them," Cloudthunder's expression shifted into one of hope. "We may be able to turn against them for the first time since Lakestar. Wouldn't that be something good?"

Redstar felt panic rise in her. No. She couldn't leave her like this. "Cloud. Please. I promised. I promised that - "

"That you'd protect us, Redstar. I know." Cloudthunder's gaze was eerily calm. “But I will not kill my leader. I’ll get Shiverpaw for your infection.”

Redstar felt like the world was crashing down on her as she watched the gray and white queen leave her den. As the silence filled her den, she felt her teeth grit in anger. She suppressed an angry snarl, allowing her claws to rip up her bedding. Cloudthunder was wrong. That wasn't the only thing she promised. It just wasn't.

She remembered many, many seasons ago - when she was still Redpath, and Lakestar still reigned. She remembered when Iciclepool gave birth to her second litter. A precarious birth, for anxious and wary parents. After the deaths of all of their children, Cliffstep and Iciclepool hesitantly tried once more. Their once-eager smiles and excitement from their first litter were now damped - gentle, polite smiles and soft thank-yous as Iciclepool's pregnancy was congratulated. Cliffstep became a permanent shadow by his mate's side. Redpath remembered catching Lakestar mumbling in her den, and peeked to see her etching lines in the walls. Redpath didn't know at the time what she was counting - but she would later know it was the amount of moons that passed since the woods were fed.

And when Iciclepool went into labor, and the tendrils came to claim their due, Redpath watched as her friend had two less kits, and Lakestar…had sat in her den. She emerged from the High Rock when Iciclepool started to wail, and made a dull statement about making a funeral once everyone saw Chicoryglint.

She remembered sitting in the graveyard in front of the great oak, seeing the rows and rows of lines belonging to every unnamed kit and stolen stranger found on their territory. She remembered carving two additional lines in the bark.

She remembered gliding her paw across the bark. She counted backwards, and counted up to nine. She measured the distance between those nine, unnamed lives. And she dug her claws deep into the earth, seething with fury.

She remembered sitting in the training clearing with Iciclepool, her eyes vacant with horrific sorrow.

"I can't do this anymore, Redpath. Everything…everything is gone. My kits. My Cliffstep," she whimpered. "It's all gone. I have nothing. And it's all…it's all - " Iciclepool broke and wailed, crouching to the floor with despair.

Redpath decided at that moment. That one, singular moment, that she would never allow another mother to suffer like Iciclepool had. That night, she stared at her own paws, and contemplated her name. Redpath. Lakestar had given it to her. For her ferocity. Loyalty.

She wondered, some days, if Lakestar saw right through her. If she knew what Redpath was going to do to her. Whether she was completely fooled, or somewhat aware. In the end, it didn't matter.

Her red path would grant them safety. She would make sure that no mother would ever have to suffer the loss of a kit ever again. She would fight the woods tooth and nail. Until there was nothing left of her.

And now, today, here she lay. Her leg broken, infected, inflamed and her mind a haze. And a future mother just told her that she would accept the losses. More lines carved in the great oak tree. Just like she failed Olive, and Barleywave.

Redstar felt numb as she stared ahead into nothing. When Shiverpaw appeared at the entrance of her den with comfrey and stinging nettle stems, Redstar's blue eyes remained vacant.

She made a promise. To her Clan, to StarClan. To the legend of the gentle camp. Loyalty, bravery, sacrifice, death.

She had to die. She had to protect her Clanmates.

So why would no one let her?

---

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[allmcl]

WICKED GAME │ Castiel Veilmont.

A quiet afternoon with your boyfriend couldn't seem like a better plan. But when two people are ridiculously in love, they always find something ridiculously more romantic to do.

pairing. castiel veilmont x f!reader

genre. fluff, suggestive.

setting. established relatonship, both are aged up.

content warning. kissing maybe? and castiel loves you too much :( (that needs to be a warning)

author’s note. im kinda nervous to post this 😭, pls tell me if you liked it, enjoy!!

The day was horrible, and all I wanted was to return to the comfort of my room and never leave. But since I discovered the comfort of being with Castiel in his house, simply talking about everything, resting, or any relaxing activity, I understood that there was nothing better than that.

"Feel better?" Castiel asked in a raspy voice, as if he had just woken up.

His finger gently tracing the curve of my back under my shirt sends an electrifying spark through my body. "A lot." I snuggle a little closer to him.

"I'll beat whoever hurted you." Castiel murmured.

I laughed. "You won't."

"Well, not if you don't tell me what happened."

I grimace. "It's not that important, seriously."

"If it concerns you, it's important to me." I don't see his face but I'm sure he's already frowning.

I managed to lean on him and stretch out a little and get a better look. I moved a little closer and my fingers stayed busy untangling the strands that fell into his eyes gray eyes, shining under the sunlight. "You look very handsome." The compliment slips from my mouth before I can think.

Castiel pauses for a second. "Do not change the subject." I would have believed him right if it weren't for the way his ears reddened and his expression relaxed.

"I'm serious." With the golden light from the window illuminating his features, and giving an even brighter shine to the red of his hair, I dare to say that I have rarely seen him so angelic.

He complains. "I knew you were obsessed with me, but it's starting to get embarrassing." Finally his smile escaped.

I rolled my eyes. "Wathever you say..."

A few minutes of silence were enough for the fatigue to dissipate a little. Between talks, Castiel and I were fully up and we were talking about everything and nothing, as usual. At this point in the afternoon, the radiant glow of the sun indicated that it was about to set.

With his eyes still closed, Castiel spoke. "I think about you a lot when I listen to music."

The idea took me by surprise and I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah?" I smiled.

"It's a slow song."

"I thought you only listened to rock bands."

I have shrugged. "Not since I've known you." He confessed and seemed to avoid looking at me for a couple of seconds.

I stretched a little closer to him. "Can I hear it?"

Castiel seemed to hesitate for a moment, but soon agreed. He shyly reached over to turn on a music player and the song began to play. I know it! If I remember correctly, I may have mentioned to him at some point that it was my favorite. "Wicked games" started playing, and I couldn't help but get carried away by the melody.

"Come on!" I said, and got up from the bed. "Dance with me!"

Castiel shot me a horrified look before starting to complain. I slowly started dancing, and I offered him my hand to take, but he seemed prettysure that he wasn't planning on dancing with me.

"Please.." I wishpered.

Castiel could never resist that, so I noticed how he sighed heavily and barely stood up from the bed to join me. Although at first his movements were a little reluctant, he began to play along when I took him by the hands. We intertwined our fingers and I noticed how his grip was so delicate, but still firm.

The now dimly lit room gave everything a comfortable, homely look, and I felt like the time was frozen, and, for a brief moment, it was just the two of us. Castiel didn't dare say anything, but I could tell he was enjoying it too from the way he was watching me. His eyes shine and I can't tell if it's because of the light or some other reason.

"I wouldn't do this if it weren't for you." He reproached with a red face. I smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

Although I expected the same gentleness with which he held me, Castiel caught me off guard and instead grabbed me by the waist tightly, pulling me against him. Our bodies continued to move to the music, only this time we were melted into each other. The strong smell of his cologne intoxicated me, and his body heat relaxed me. His lips kissed mine a little too roughly, but he always did it that way.

His hands caressed from the curve of my waist to my back and higher with constancy and softness, just like the gentle swaying of our bodies.

"It´s nice to have you close..." I quietly whisper, breaking the kiss for just a few seconds.

In response, I feel a warm kiss on the crown of my head. Being so tall, he always used to do that instead of kissing my cheek. My body gives up a little, and I lean against his chest. The song is still playing in the background, and I feel how his chest vibrates while he hums to the rymth of the song.

"This…is nice" He said softly. "Even if it's ridiculously romantic."

I smiled against him, and from the way he pulled me closer, I knew he had noticed. I always knew Castiel wasn't that good with words. But he made an effort for me.

And that was enough.

©allmcl !

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex,  Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: The first few chapters will be just plot. Smut lovers need to wait until chapter 5. Also, a couple of readers that wanted to be tagged I couldn't tag you. Your name wouldn't pop up for me to click on.

“Last box,” Hobi said, bringing in the last of your belongings and placing it on your kitchen table that you pulled out of your parent’s dusty storage unit earlier in the day. 

As much as you love Hobi, you couldn't live with him forever in his small two bedroom apartment anymore. Jungkook had texted you about a house that he had recently renovated on a plot of land that they owned near the neighboring Tannie Farms. He had offered to rent it to you before putting it out there for the public. He said he would rather have family in it and not some stranger that he can't trust.  You quickly accepted his offer and started packing your clothes the same day. Hobi begged you to stay a little longer, but you know that you were holding him back. Your social butterfly of a best friend started to cancel plans and dates to stay with you because you wanted to become a hermit and not leave your bed. It wasn't fair. You wanted him to happily live his life, and you knew he wouldn't if you were still there.

Your mother and father, thankfully, offered to let you raid their garage and storage unit for anything that you wanted to take for your new home. It was mostly junk that they were glad to get rid of. This way, they didn't have to worry about how they were going to throw it away. You came away with an old dark oak table and a couple of matching chairs that both wobbled a little bit. You are going to need to shove something under the legs to stabilize them. You also took a lumpy couch that used to be white in color but has since turned a dingy gray color after being stored away for so many years. Your old mattress from high school that you're almost positive will kill your back but is better than sleeping on the floor and a dresser whose drawers won't open without a fight. You did, however, pass on a large area rug due to the fact that it smelled like something had died in it.  They weren't the best, but it was better than having nothing at all. You'll be able to save up for better furniture later for your new house at a later date.

The two story white farmhouse with black rustic looking shutters was absolutely beautiful, and you fell in love as soon as you saw it. It was tucked away on a back road that was pure dirt several miles out of the main town square where it sat on perfectly manicured green grass. The wrap-around porch was decorated with various potted flowers, both big and small, in a range of beautiful colors. Large black solar powered lanterns lay scattered along around the perimeter of the dark wooden porch that emits a warm glow after sunset, setting a cozy and welcoming atmosphere.  A large porch swing sat on the back of the porch has a perfect view of Tannie Farms in the far horizon where their crops seem to go on forever. Where the stalks of corn sway in the breeze around the various tractors and other farm equipment that sat in their cornfield. It was a picture-perfect view.

The house itself had large floor to ceiling windows with french doors that have matching black trim all encased in brand new white siding. Inside, the new hardwood floors and freshly painted beige walls were perfectly clean and crisp looking. He was able to give it the perfect blend of modern and cozy at the same time. However, the best part was the quiet. It was so serene and peaceful that you were afraid that the silence might scare you after being away from it for so many years. You never got to have serene or peaceful when you lived in the city in a busy apartment complex along the main street of a popular area. Sirens, honking cars and yelling were a part of your everyday life. After a few months, they just became background noise that blurred into your daily life. Changkyun also always preferred to have friends over at all hours for drinks and music. He didn't care if you needed to sleep or if you had to get up early. He only cared about impressing his friends. You couldn't even complain, or it would start a fight. He told you all the time that you were not on the lease, so it wasn't your decision. It was miserable, and looking back, you don't know why you stayed as long as you did. 

There was, however, just one thing that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten to tell you about until after you had signed the contract and handed it back to him. That your one…singular neighbor, who you also have to share a large driveway with happened to be Min Yoongi. You thought it was a well thought out move on his end. Kook said that you wouldn't even see him since he is pretty much at the farm most of the day. It didn't really help put you at ease, but it didn't scare you away either.  It was time to grow up and move forward. Like Hobi has said. You were adults, and it's time to put all the bullshit away.

“Coming through,” Jungkook called out as he and Tae came through your door carrying your super old double mattress from high school.  

They head up stairs carrying it above their heads as you follow behind them and enter your bedroom. They toss it on the floor, and you can see a cloud of dust fly out of it. The particles linger suspended in the air. You'll have to figure out how to clean it later.  The guys look at each other and then around the bare room in confusion. You ignore them and push the mattress into the corner of your room with your foot and give them a smile. 

“What?” You ask them as you watch them as they continue to look around the barren room. “What's the matter?” 

“Don't you have a bed frame?” Tae asks, scratching his head.

“Or a box spring?” Kook added a second later.

“No, I didn't see them earlier. I think my mom might have gotten rid of them. It's not a big deal. I’m just happy I don't have to sleep on the hard floor or the lumpy couch,” you say with a shrug. Down stairs, you hear a crash and something break.

“I'll buy you a new one,” Joon called up the stairs.

You sigh and head back downstairs to see what your loveable but clumsy friend broke. Thankfully, it was just a vase used for decoration that you had bought on sale and held no sentimental value. Shooing him away from the mess, you take over the clean-up carefully, avoiding cutting yourself of the sharp shards of colorful glass. 

You couldn't be more thankful for them than you already were. You were thankful for Jin when he dropped off dinner for you since you haven't gotten geroceries yet. You were thankful for Jungkook for offering you the house.  Also, for everyone else who helped you move things from your parent's storage unit and garage to the house doing all the heavy lifting for you. You really did love them. They were here. They never gave up on you. 

“Are you going to be okay here alone? What if it's haunted?” Hobi asked, giving you wide, scared eyes. “You can always stay one more night with me if you're scared. You know I don't mind.”

“It's not haunted,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

“Besides, she’s not completely alone,” Jimin said, looking at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. “Yoongi is just right over there.”

You curse yourself for letting it slip to Jimin one drunken night bar hopping in college that you may have found Yoongi attractive. You distinctly remember him and Kook playing darts in one of the darkened bars that your group frequented. You remember the way he bit his lip in concentration as his fingers held the dart, his dark hair falling over a red headband around his forehead.  You just blurted it out loud without thinking as you sat with Jimin at a little table against the wall. The little shit never let you live it down when the two of you were alone. You are actually surprised, though, that it still seems to be a secret between only the two of you. You guess you can be thankful for that.

“I'll be fine,” you tell him, dismissing his concerns. “You guys can go. I have the first day of school tomorrow, and I need to get things around.”

Namjoon had agreed and helped round everyone up by the kitchen door. After a round of goodbyes and thank yous, you waved from your kitchen door as they dispersed. Kook, Tae, and Jimin went next door to Yoongi’s and the others left in their cars.  You collapsed on your lumpy couch with a sigh. Closing your eyes,  you tell yourself you'll unpack tomorrow. Laying there, you take in the quietness of the house.  It was something that you would have to get used to. There was no extra body puttering around and making background noise. No, Hobi, singing early in the morning as he got ready for work. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock were the only things that could be heard. For the first time, it was just you. You had never lived alone, but you felt excited to see how you were going to do. It was going to be a welcomed new adventure, and you couldn't wait to see how you'll do.

You stand on the sidewalk in front of the school with your students smashed together in a yellow square that was taped off just for them as you waited for their parents to pick them up. Your first day of school went surprisingly well for the most part. When Joon found out you were back in town for good, he offered you a teaching position at your old elementary school where you had once attended. The exact same one where Jin and Hobi became your best friends. Where Jin shared his sandwich with you when you forgot your lunch in the third grade. Where you had to beat up some little boy for making fun of Hobi's shoes when you were six. You don't even remember his name now, but you gave him a bloody nose, and your dad had to pick you up early. It was a lot smaller than what you remembered. It always seemed so big when you were younger and playing on the playground, running around laughing, playing tag. When you all were so innocent and free back then. 

You were initially excited that you didn't have to job hunt in the surrounding school districts, but you went into panic mode when Namjoon dropped the bomb on you. It was for Pre-K. You never taught such young kids before. You always had fourth graders in the past. Ten year olds. Ten year olds who could, for the most part, listen when they wanted to and take care of themselve. They didn't need to be taught to walk in a straight line or to raise their hand if they needed something. They knew how to zip their coats, put on gloves, and tie their shoes. These were some things that you never thought about having to teach, but yet here you were.

You didn't know anything about four year olds. All that you knew was that they were loud and sticky, and their bathroom habits were iffy at best. Thankfully, Joon, pretty much did your entire months worth of lesson plans for you, mostly to bribe you into saying yes to his job offer. All you had to do was follow his directions until you got the hang of it for yourself. Coloring, writing their name, singing, and dancing it all seemed pretty simple. Seven hours of playtime, easy, peasy. 

Not quite. A few things you learned today were that they like to run and you need better antiperspirant. Do not..... repeat..... do not wear heels again. No matter how short you think the heel is….it's still too tall. You will need to buy several pairs of comfy flats and tennis shoes.   Always do head count because you might have thought you lost one child between the art room and your classroom. Turns out he was just hiding under a table in the corner of the room. However, when it was all said and done, there were no tears from either you or the kids. You will take it as a win. 

“Bye, Jae,” you say, waving at your last student that was picked up by her parents. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched them walk away as she held their hands, skipping between them. Good riddance, and now you get to do it all again tomorrow.

“Y/n,” a voice said your name, making you turn toward it. You smile slightly when you see the school’s music teacher standing behind you. 

“Yes, can I help you…” You trail off, clearly not remembering his name.

“Shinwon,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You politely shake his hand and look at him expectly. “I just wanted to check in and see how your first day was. I know a new school and new city can be intimidating.”

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I grew up around here so…not new. I know this place very well.”

“Oh,” he said with a surprised smile, and he tilted his head to the side like he was amused. “I was going to offer to show you around our little sleepy town, but I guess you know it better than I do, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a shrug and look around, trying to find a way to get out of this conversation when you spot Namjoon, who was walking to his car. When you finally catch his attention, he just waves at you happily before getting into his car. You think you see him laughing. Jerk. 

“Well, then maybe you can show me some hidden gems around here,” he says and hands you his phone. “Here, put your number in, and I'll text you mine.”

You take his phone and input your information very reluctantly. You consider giving him a fake number, but that would probably make things super awkward later. You hand it back to him, and he smiles brilliantly at you, his perfect teeth on display. You watch as his fingers fly across the screen before he looks back up to you.

“I sent you a text,” he tells you. “Maybe we can hang out someday. We could possibly go into the city and do something?”

“Listen, I just got out of a relationship,” you started to tell him, but he cut you off.

“No, problem,” he said, still smiling. “It doesn't have to be a date. We can do something just as friends. Friends have dinner all the time. Maybe we can even see a movie one night.”

“Maybe, if I can find the time,” you say with a tight smile. “I should go, but it was nice meeting you.”

You turn on your heel and quickly walk away as fast as your aching feet can carry you, leaving him standing there alone. Yup, definitely tennis shoes from now on. You will be able to keep up with the kiddos better and, more importantly, run away from men faster. Perfect.

Getting out of your car, you grimace as your aching feet hit the hard cement of the garage floor. You didn't mean to slam your car door so hard as you begin to limp and waddle your way up to your house in a desperate need to soak your feet in your tub. You can almost sigh in satisfaction at the thought of the hot water surrounding you as you lie there in the clawfoot tub until your fingers turn pruny. As the hot, steaming water relaxes your muscles, taking away the ache from your feet as you drop a bath bomb that fizzes while listening to music and maybe…probably drink some wine. 

“Bad first day of school?” You recognize Yoongi's voice behind you, causing you to freeze. You're embarrassed that he caught you walking like an idiot. 

“No,” you answer truthfully as you give him a surprised look when you turn to look at him.

“It is the first day, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you before popping the hood of a side-by-side that sat on his side of the driveway. “Joon mentioned something about it yesterday.”

“Yeah, umm… it was pretty good. I might have a blister and an unwanted admirer, but hey, no one stuck anything where it didn't belong. So, good day.” You explain not expecting the conversation to go much further.

You were surprised when he actually started laughing. You don't think you have ever made Min Yoongi laugh. It was a good look on him. You wouldn't mind if he did more around you.

“Please tell me it's not some single dad?” he asks once he stops laughing. He uses the wrench in his hand to tinker around with mechanical things that are beyond your knowledge. You can drive a car but that's about it. You just pray that you never get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Triple A is a thing, right? 

“Worse, the music teacher. He offered to show me around town,” you say with a nod of your head. “Like what was he going to show me? Jin’s cafe?” 

“I mean. We do have a new hardware store in town,” he informs you while he concentrates on his task. “Maybe he can show you where the screws are.”

A small silence falls between the two of you as you look around in contemplation.

“Is that..” You start but pause for a second, and you feel your face heat up. “Is that supposed to be sexual?”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” he said innocently and smirked at you as his eyes met yours through the fallen blonde hair in his eyes. He shakes it out of his vision and continues with his task.  You shake your head at him, limping and waddling your way up the stairs to your house. “Wait, I have some of your mail. Let me go get it.”

You lean your hands against the railing of the porch as he disappears in his house. You take turns lifting each foot off the ground behind you and giving it a little wiggle, hoping to find some sort of relief. He better hurry because all you want to do is sit down. You continue your little foot routine when you hear the squeak of his screen door open and Yoongi walks across the driveway to you. Reaching up, he hands you a singular piece of mail over your railing that you take from him, and he retreats back to the side-by-side. You sigh in annoyance when you see what he gave you.

“To the current resident….” You say loudly. “Do you need to lower your cable costs? You really felt the need to give me this junk mail?”

“It would have been a federal offense if I hadn't,” he answered while not even looking at you. 

“Well, thanks,” you say sarcastically and turn back toward the house. You pull out your mess of keys that jingle and jangle with too many keychains as you unlock your door. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi calls out again, making you look over your shoulder at him once again. “I would have helped…you know….yesterday when you moved in. I just figured that you wouldn't want me there.”

That made you feel horrible. You felt like a horrible human being who is still acting childish over some weird grudge from college. If what Hobi said was true, it was only one-sided on your part. Your shoulders slump just a little bit before you turn back to him once again. His hands are fiddling with that wrench looking a little nervous as he tries not to stare at you for too long. The wrench makes quite the clicking sound as he turns it over and over again as he twirls it with his finger. He glances up at you quickly before turning his eyes back to the silver tool in his hand. 

“I appreciate it,” you tell him as you tap that piece of junk mail on the palm of your opposite hand just as nervous. “Maybe, if you want to, that is. Maybe we can start over again and actually try to be friends for once.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” he rambles, agreeing with you, trying to nod his head nonchalantly. “Hey, are you going to help out at the Farmers Market again? The guys think you will bring more business in.”

“I highly doubt that, but yeah, I can come and help again,” you answer with a nod of your head. “Have a good evening, Yoongi,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

“You too,” he says, eyes watching you until you unlock the door.

Finally, getting into your house, you close the door and lock it behind you. You reach down undo the straps of your shoes and proceed to kick them off with a careless fling of your foot, not caring where they land as you hear them hit the floor with a thump. You waddle your way to that old dirty couch and flop down unceremoniously with a groan. You think your aching feet hurt more now than they did in the heels. Your nice hot bath with your wine and the bath bomb is going to have to wait until you get enough motivation to stand up, and that might not be anytime soon. You might have to put off unpacking one more day. 

You turn your head and look out your living room window. You can see Yoongi with the top half of his body bent over and working away on the vehicle on his side of the driveway. You never thought in a million years that you would be friends with the cute, popular basketball player turned handsome neighbor. You smile a little as you continue to stare at him, and you think you might feel a little fluttering in your stomach. You're going to have to squish those butterflies. That flapping, flitting feeling that you haven't felt in years makes your body tingle in excitement.  Your heart was not ready for that feeling. It wasn't ready at all. 

《Chapter Three》

Tagged Readers

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs, @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld,

[libby-for-life]

So, can you do a sick one-shot with Adam and Lucifer? Maybe Adam has a fever and Lucifer reluctantly takes care of him. But then he starts to hallucinate things. Stuff that makes Lucifer question things about what he believes.

Oh? A challenge, hu? Since you didn't specify if this was my version of Adamsapple, I'm just going to assume that this is more traditional Adamsapple and go from there.

Sinner!Adam under contract with Lucifer.

Lucifer stood before Charlie with a sigh, feeling irritated. "Are you telling me that there isn't anyone else who can take care of him? I don't have time to deal with a whiney brat who is probably faking all this just to get attention," he grumbled. The devil was not convinced that Adam was genuinely sick. He wouldn't put it past him to fake it to receive special treatment.

Charlie replied, "Normally, I would take care of it, but I have a lot of paperwork to deal with." She gestured towards her desk, which was piled high with papers, making Lucifer wince. "Vaggie is busy with Niffty, Angel Dust and Husk are working, and Alastor is not an... option."

Lucifer shivered at the thought of Alastor taking care of Adam. The devil was under contract to protect the idiot from harm, but it would end badly for Adam if Alastor was involved. "Alright, I'll do it," he said, resigned.

"Thank you, Dad!" Charlie beamed at him, making him feel a little better. Teleporting to Adam's room, Lucifer hoped to catch him in the act of faking it but found himself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The only thing he could see was a lump on Adam's bed.

Frustrated, the devil snapped his fingers, and the lights turned on. Adam let out a whimper, making Lucifer roll his eyes. "Oh, stop it. Nobody is buying this pity act," he said sternly.

When he got no reply, he growled again, "The hard way it is then." He stomped over to the sinner's bed and ripped the blankets off him. "Get up now!" Lucifer was done playing games. If Adam was going to continue acting this way, he didn't mind using force to beat some sense into him.

However, to his surprise, Adam didn't yell, swear, or even glare at him. Instead, he let out another whimper. This time, Lucifer actually looked at Adam and saw just how different he looked. His gray skin had an ashy color, his breath was labored, and his shirt was missing, revealing how sweaty he was. It was clear that Adam was genuinely sick.

Lucifer felt slightly guilty for making Adam uncomfortable when it was clear he was miserable with a fever.

Placing a hand on the sinner's forehead, he hissed at the heat. "Oh, you are sick, aren't you?" He murmured. "Alright, let's sit you up."

Soon, Adam was propped up on pillows, wrapped up in comfortable blankets, and looking at Lucifer with dazed eyes. The devil knew that the demon wasn't truly seeing him due to his sickness.

Gently draping a cool cloth onto Adam's forehead, he noticed how the sinner's eyes followed his every move.

"You're so beautiful...." Adam slurred.

Lucifer froze and looked at him confused. "Hu?" He must've been really out of it if he was complimenting him.

"Beautiful...so beautiful. I can see why she left me...I didn't stand a chance."

Lucifer grimaced when he realized that Adam must've been talking about Eden. Whether it was Eve or Lilith he was referring to was still being questioned in Lucifer's mind.

"Let's not waste your energy." Lucifer finally said.

Adam whimpered again but he continued talking. "Lilith was beautiful too...but she didn't like me...why did she not like me?"

"Maybe because you were a narcissistic dick who wanted to control her?" Lucifer said with a glare. Any kind of sympathy he had for the sinner was gone. How could Adam even ask that?!

Adam shook his head, clearly too out of it to understand that the devil was insulting him. "That's not what she said..." He slurred out. A look of sadness came over Adam and, to Lucifer's growing discomfort, looked like he was going to cry.

"She told me I was disgusting...that she didn't want to stand next to someone so ugly." Lucifer was too stunned to speak. What?

"She didn't like me talking. I talk too much. She liked to gag me when she couldn't stand the noise. It hurt...." Adam was now crying, big tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Lucifer immediately asked. If he hated how Lilith treated him, especially if it hurt, then why didn't he make her stop? Adam certainly never backed down from a fight. In fact, he was usually starting them.

"I wanted her to like me..." Adam replied with a groan. His breathing seemed labored. "If I did what she wanted...then she'll like me....even if it hurt. Even if it made me cry." Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his hazy eyes looking into the distance. "No...she didn't like me crying. She said it was annoying and ugly so I don't do it anymore." It was ironic with the tears streaming down his face.

Adam turned his golden eyes to the devil who flinched at the devastating but resigned look on his face. "I guess I didn't do it good enough...she found someone better...someone smarter...."

A large hand cupped Lucifer's cheek. "Who can compete with angels?" And then he passed out. Lucifer didn't know that he was holding his breath until he started gasping. What the fuck?

[doctor-dusk]

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

being the only witness to a crime has its advantages.

warnings: hard dom!alex, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv, mentions of death/strangulation.

word count: 4.7k

celebrating am's birthday with an am!alex smut. is it weird for me to say that i actually enjoyed writing this? save me officer turner save me. hope you like it :3

the ticking of the clock was starting to irritate you. not that you were easily irritated, but since you had been sitting there for almost forty minutes, everything seemed to be at least a little irritating from your point of view.

they said it would be quick.

the ceiling fan was also irritating you. it was spinning slowly, barely ventilating. you crossed your legs, leaning back against the cushioned chair, and looked at the clock on the wall. it was almost 8pm.

they really did say it would be quick.

‘’miss.’’ the strangely deep voice of the police station clerk caught your attention. you turned your head to look at her. she didn't look that old, but the strands of gray hair scattered throughout her brown hair gave away that she was in her 50s. ‘’can you sign here?’’ she pointed to the paperwork laid out on the counter under a black ballpoint pen.

you stood up, your shoes making a clicking noise on the porcelain floor as you made your way to sign the papers. you signed the fields marked with an 'x'. it was a boring form, but necessary.

‘’follow me, i'll take you to the interrogation room.’’ she said, coming out from behind the counter, going through the small door to get to you. you followed her through the hallways full of doors, you couldn't tell if they were cells or other departments. you weren't in a position to find out right now, you would just go there, tell what you knew and leave.

she opened the door to interrogation room number 5. you looked around before entering. dark gray walls, a mirrored glass wall to your left, a medium square table with two chairs at the ends. oh, and of course, a small recorder right in the center of the table.

‘’the investigator will be right there to talk to you.’’ she said, motioning for you to sit in the chair. you nodded, taking a few steps forward to sit in the first chair.

you left your purse on your lap, crossing your legs over the other, swaying back and forth. there wasn't much to look at there. you didn't have your phone with you. somehow, they took it as soon as you entered the police station.

that's what you get for going to a pub with a college friend and watching her get strangled in the alley.

you shook your head, guilty for having thought that. it wasn't her fault. at least as far as you know. it was on saturday. it didn't take long for the police to call you in for questioning when they found out you were the only one who witnessed the whole thing.

you sighed, looking around, not sure exactly what you were looking for. you looked at the recorder on the table, tilting your neck forward to get a better look. it was ridiculously old, but it seemed to be in good condition. several small buttons, a small sound output and a vertical microphone, almost imitating an antenna.

you reached out your hand, wanting to touch the tip of the small microphone.

‘’don't touch it.’’ you heard a male voice behind you that made you straighten up immediately, the shock making your heart beat faster and your hand twitching back to your lap in the blink of an eye. you didn't even hear him come into the room.

‘’sorry.’’ you said in an apologetic tone, glancing at him when his steps got louder and firmer towards you to sit in the chair.

all in black, including the suspenders. tailored pants, shoes that were shined that morning. ironed black shirt closed to the last button with the collar low. utility belt circling the small waist with a badge and a gun in the holster.

so this is the investigator? fuck, he's hot.

he let out a heavy sigh, holding a mug with black coffee without sugar and a brown folder under his arm. he smelled like cigarettes, especially because he had smoked one before entering the room. there were bags under his eyes, you didn't know if they were dark circles or if that was something characteristic of him. he certainly looked like he hadn't slept in three days. but still hot.

he threw the folder on the table without much care, pulling out the empty chair to sit down.

‘’coffee?’’ he asked, gesturing with the mug. you shook your head. he shrugged, taking a sip and soon reached into the small outer pocket of his shirt. ‘’gum?’’ he asked again, taking a piece of gum from inside the small rectangular package. ‘’you can take it, you know?’’ he said as if he knew you were hesitant to take it. of course, he was an investigator. he certainly knew a lot about body language at this point.

you reached out to take the gum, accepting it. watermelon flavored, curiously enough, it was one of your favorites. he repeated your action, opening the small package and putting the gum in his mouth, keeping the paper inside his shirt pocket to throw in the trash later. 

‘’comfortable?’’ he asked you. you shifted in your chair, nodding. the chair wasn't that comfortable, but you wouldn't dare complain. ‘’good. let's get started, miss…’’ he paused, reading your name on the interrogation sheet. his accent made it even better. 

he spread the papers on the table meticulously in front of you. it was the investigation dossier. photos of the crime scene, the autopsy report, the draft of the opening of the investigation. he opened a small, worn notebook. there was a pen inside, the clicking sound crackling in your ears as he tested the pen to confirm that it was working. he cleared his throat, turning on the voice recorder, making a small red light light up in the upper left corner of the recorder. he brought his face closer to the microphone, making a few strands of his black hair fall over his forehead like a small waterfall.

‘’tuesday, july 8th, 8:15 pm. this is investigator turner from the 3rd regional police station, and i will now be taking the statement of...'' he paused, reading his name and surname again on the file. ‘’... about the crime of homicide against tori baker, which occurred on the 5th.’’ he said out loud as the recorder began to emit a tiny red light that blinked non-stop, indicating that the recording had started. ‘’did you know the victim?’’

you nodded. he let out an impatient sigh, shaking his head.

‘’words. we're recording.’’ he said in a firm tone, pointing to the recorder. you mentally cursed yourself for having forgotten that detail. he was intimidating you more than you would have liked.

‘’yes, sir.’’ you answered loudly, hearing him hum, writing it down on the interrogation sheet.

‘’was she your friend?’’

‘’college classmate.’’ you answered, eyeing him up and down. you couldn’t help it. cops in general were hot, but this investigator was something else.

‘’were you very close?’’ he continued asking, his eyes fixed on you, looking for some kind of hesitation.

‘’not really. we went out for drinks every now and then.’’ you answered with a slight shrug. ‘’on saturday it wouldn't be any different.’’

‘’any particular reason for drinking on saturday?’’ he asked, pretending he didn't notice you devouring him with your eyes. ‘’birthday, celebration...?’’

‘’good grades.’’ you answered. he raised his eyebrows, not writing down the information because he didn't think it was that important.

‘’tell me about this pub you guys went to on saturday.’’ he prompted, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on the back of the chair.

‘’we used to go to this pub almost always. it's good and cheap. they serve great drinks there and the fries are made fresh.’’ you answered, seeing that he hadn't written anything down in his notebook, since he didn't think it was important yet.

‘’when you guys went out, was it always the two of you or did someone else go with you?’’ he asked, fiddling with the pen between his fingers. there was no way that even this was sexy.

‘’most of the time it was just me and her. some college friends would go with us too, but not always. on saturday, a friend of mine had gone with us.’’

‘’and where was she when it all happened?’’ he sat up straight in his chair, ready to write it down.

‘’fucking the security guard in the bathroom.’’ you answered. he was speechless for a few seconds, raising his eyebrows. you knew it was very blunt of you, but you knew you couldn't lie. ‘’her words.’’

‘’right. i think we can leave that part out of the interrogation.’’ he muttered, clearing his throat. ‘’tell me how it all happened. where you were, how you got there and what you saw.’’

you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. it wasn't a memory you liked to keep and much less one you would like to recall out loud. you clenched your fists a little, becoming merely restless.

‘’take your time.’’ he said when he realized you had been silent for too long.

you sighed, chewing your gum for a few seconds before starting to speak. ‘’i was already a bit tipsy. i had had about 4 shots. maybe 5. she told me she was going to smoke and left through the back door. i stayed at the bar.’’ you said slowly, especially since he was writing it down quickly. his writing was a bit sloppy, but it was enough to understand. i mean, at least he understood. ‘’at a certain point i decided to leave too. i wasn't feeling well and the bathrooms were too far away.’’

‘’how long between her leaving and you leaving too?’’ he asked you. you blinked a few times, you realized you were too distracted by how his body was leaning over the table.

you scoffed, trying to think. ‘’i don't know... maybe 10 minutes. i wasn't looking at the clock.’’ you replied and he nodded, gesturing for you to continue. ‘’so i went out the back door and…’’ you stopped. ‘’can't remember vividly.’’

he looked at you, squinting his caramel eyes. you remembered, of course. you remembered enough. and he knew it.

‘’c'mon. tell me what you know. i promise if you tell me we'll finish before 10pm.’’ he drawled a little. it strangely gave you chills. you chewed your gum, blowing air into it, the sound of it popping echoing through the silent room. so silent that you could even hear the blood running through your veins as your heart beat faster.

the investigator clenched his jaw, pressing the recorder button to pause the recording, clasping his two hands together, resting his forearms on the desk, leaning closer to you. fuck, he was so pretty up close. you could even see a mole in the lower left corner below his mouth.

‘’what do you want?’’ he questioned.

‘’what do you have to offer me, investigator?’’ you asked back, your shoed foot climbing up his leg. his fingers clenched against each other subtly at your tone.

he stood up, firm footsteps walking across the room towards the door. he opened it, sticking his head out and looking down the hallway from one end to the other, making sure there was no one there. the police station was almost always empty at this time. almost everyone was having dinner.

he closed the door again, locking it. the clicking sound made your heart beat faster and your mouth went dry.

‘’let's make a deal, miss.’’ he urged behind you, his big hand flying to your shoulder, your eyes widened at the firm contact. he bent over, his head right above your shoulder, his face close to yours. ‘’i'll give you what you want as long as you tell me what you know i need to know. deal?’’

oh, please. you didn't even need to answer. your cunt throbbed at the single thought.

‘’deal.’’ you answered, glancing at him, catching his smirk in the corner of your eye.

‘’sit down at the desk.’’ he commanded, straightening his posture and carefully removing his utility belt, leaving it hanging over the back of the chair as you stood up.

‘’the papers.’’ you pointed to the papers spread out on the metal table.

‘’fuck the papers. i told you to sit down.’’ he said rudely, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. rough. you liked it.

you sat down on the table before he could lose his patience, your jeans were crumpling the papers under your ass, but he didn't care about that, and neither should you. he hurried to reach for the button on your pants, pulling the zipper down.

‘’not even a little kiss to warm up?’’ you teased him. he narrowed his eyes on you.

‘’no. you're asking too much.’’ he said and you giggled as he roughly pulled your jeans down along with your panties, going down to your ankles, where he pulled only the left side, keeping your pants and panties hanging by your right heel.

‘’you're going to eat me out and you're telling me that a little kiss is too much?’’ you questioned as you watched him getting down on his knees in front of you, the sight alone already making your cunt even wetter.

‘’the bones of the trade.’’ he grunted, spreading your legs without any delicacy, as if he was impatient and in a hurry. but oh, he couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy right before his eyes, so pretty and ready for him. he looked up at you for a split second. ‘’any particular reason for being like this?’’ he asked, teasing you for the first time.

‘’i have a thing for investigators.’’ you joked, already feeling his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making your cunt pulse in reflex. he took the chewed gum out of his mouth, sticking it under the table.

‘’guess i'm lucky.’’ he shot back, moving his hands to your inner thighs, his rough and calloused fingers digging into your skin, almost leaving marks because of how little delicacy he was using. ‘’now tell me what you know.’’

before you could even begin, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit, making your eyes gradually roll to the back of your head. he licked again, this time starting from the bottom, collecting a stripe on his tongue, swallowing his own grunt for doing so.

''w-where do i start?'' you asked after recovering from that first contact.

''you left the bar through the back door.'' he recalled, his mouth going back to your pussy, his tongue swirling around your entrance, collecting your slimy juices, lapping his wet muscle over your folds like he meant it.

oh, this is going to be harder than you thought.

‘’i left the bar, they were on the dark side. the lamp was broken and i couldn't see very well.’’ you kept going, your eyes almost closing as he was sucking against your folds, the squelches were sloppy and your both hands grabbed the edges of the cold desk, grounding yourself as he delved into your pussy, licking and sucking you like your pussy was an orange, where he could smear himself with your sweet wetness. ‘’i- i was so fucking drunk and…’’ he hummed against your throbbing cunt, his eyes and ears on you the whole time, multitasking between eating you out and continuing with the interrogation to get more information.

‘’what did he use to strangle her?’’ he asked, his breath coming out in hot puffs, his hot mouth rising to suck your clit, shoving two fingers inside your cunt. his long and slender fingers scissored you, stretching you out, exploring your gummy walls and making you whine.

‘’hands.’’ you panted, your head falling back, all your eyes could see was the white light from the interrogation room ceiling.

‘’hands.’’ he repeated, curling his fingers inside you, reaching the caves of your walls and hitting spots you didn't even know could be located, feeling the clenching motion around them. ‘’were they saying something?’’

‘’i couldn't hear, i swear…’’ you babbled, feeling him giving sweet kisses all over your pussy while his fingers were buried in you up to the knuckles, moving in and out, making a squishy sound. he made a disappointed face, but didn't stop what he was doing.

‘’he saw you?’’ he asked. you nodded. you remembered the man looking at you that night. his piercing eyes staring into your soul. you didn't even know how you were still alive. ‘’do you think there's a reason he didn't kill you too?’’

‘’i think it's because i’m hot.’’ you hissed as he slapped your pussy sharply. you were being too bold for your own good.

‘’maybe you're right.’’ he answered, you could even feel that annoying smile against your pussy as he slurps everywhere, making sure no spot goes untouched as his protruding nose rubbed against your clit.

oh, you almost smiled. he thinks you're hot too.

you're so wet and so sensitive now, soaking not only his mouth but also his chin. but damn, that man was an eater. you couldn't control yourself, almost closing your trembling legs around his head as his fingers pumped inside your pussy with purpose. your hand moved from behind to hold his head, needing to keep him close as you're approaching your climax.

‘’and what did you do after he strangled her?’’ he asked, moving his mouth away a little, his fingers never stopping their restless movements, feeling that your cunt was coating them so much at this point.

‘’i threw up.’’ you answered honestly. his mouth and nose twitched a bit.

‘’understandable. what was he like? i know you saw him.’’ his tepid breath hitted your fevered skin.

‘’m-maybe i saw him.’’ you babble out. he rolled his eyes, realizing he needed to change his strategy.

without any warning, he pulled away from your pussy, pulling his fingers from your gaping and aching hole. you looked at him, you were close, so close...

turner wiped his wet face with the back of his hand, standing up again.

‘’what was our deal?’’ he asked, placing both his hands on the table, caging you. he was impatient. ‘’i'll give you the what you want and you give me what i want.’’

‘’i told you what i knew.’’ you shrugged nonchalantly.

‘’fucking brat.’’ he growled, running his hand through his hair, combing back. he took a deep breath, pulling you from the table and making you stand, your weak knees almost gave out, but you managed to balance yourself only for him to turn you around and push you against the table, forcing you to bend down.

you let out a gasp at his attitude. his hand crept along the curve of your ass in a strangely delicate way.

‘’change of plans.’’ he announced, the sound of him unbuttoning his own pants ringing through your ears like a sweet melody. ‘’take this notebook and this pen.’’ he said, referring to the small notebook and pen he was using. your eager hands reached out to grab it. ‘’you will write down all of his characteristics that you remember on this sheet of paper while i fuck you. is that enough for you?’’

his words hit you harder than expected. you nearly convulsed at the feeling of his reddened tip nudging your entrance.

‘’fucking answer me.’’ he growled, gripping the back of your head hard. you nodded quickly. he pressed your face against the papers on the table, your eyes glanced at him behind you, his thick cock threatening your entrance the whole time. ‘’words.’’

‘’yes, yes, i get it.’’ you answered almost breathlessly.

taking a deep and sharp breath, he buried himself inside you, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as your toes curled and your hands twitched. he bottomed out, watching how your pussy swallowed his cock with greed. he forced himself to look away. god, he was already hard since he saw your pussy, when he ate you out then... he almost came in his pants. if he gives in a little more, he might explode cum inside you in the blink of an eye.

‘’what are you waiting for? write it down right now.’’ he ordered, his hand slapping you hard on the ass, watching it jiggle and you winced, feeling it sting like a painful insect bite.

‘’fuck, you're so deep…’’ you cried out, you could feel his tip poking your cervix. he was indeed balls deep inside your cunt, forcing the goppy insides of your cunt to accommodate him.

‘’stop complaining. you asked for it.’’ he grunts as his rhythm begins to become restless, his hips snapping against your ass, hitting you deep and raw. so dirty and raw. yes, you definitely asked for it.

he was taking you so hard, almost as if no thought was going through his head while he was pumping into you, making you feel full of his big, veiny cock. trembling, your hand began to write. your handwriting was almost a scrawl, you could barely stand and the desk was shaking too much with his incessant rhythm.

‘’tall. good girl. how tall are we talking?’’ he hummed in your ear, seeing what you were writing.

‘’mmm i think 6 feet tall…’’ you replied, a pathetic moan leaving your lips as he started to roll his hips against you.

‘’write it down.’’ he tapped the notebook with his index finger.

you were so drunk, your body was practically stretched out on the table, but you were determined to write down everything you remembered about that man. god, you even felt guilty because your colleague had to be strangled for you to be there, but it was so good, he was fucking you so good, so hard and deep.

he couldn't say he was hating it. oh, quite the opposite. he was loving feeling your cunt gaping out around him. he was so thick, the stretch making your mouth water and your knees buckle as your tongue lolled out.

“tall, buzz cut, green eyes, scar on the cheek and tattoo on the hand. that's because you didn't remember, hm?” he groaned hoarsely into your ear, smirking and slowing down his movements, moving as slow as a turtle now. “was that all you needed? for me to fuck you to the hilt? what do you think your colleague would think about this? you're so fucking selfish.”

“shut up.” you gulped, feeling his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slammed back into your pussy again and again.

“tsk tsk, don't you dare to talk to me like that." he scolded you, his hand returning to your head, pressing your skull against the table, you're already drooling over the papers, but you loved it. he was right, you're selfish.

“or what?” you asked, feeling the pressure in your bones like he was smashing your head at that desk. worse than that, he was practically skinning your pussy, it was getting sore, swollen, it burned like it was getting raw.

“or you'll spend the night in a cell to learn to respect authority. sound good?” he panted in your ear, closing his fist around your hair, twisting it and forcing you to raise your head to look at him. 

“will you pay me a visit in the early hours of the morning?” you asked, a wicked smile playing at your lips. he almost smiled. damn, you're crazy. and in a way it made his cock throb.

“maybe. what was that tattoo on his hand? promise, that's all i need and i'll make you cum.” he tilted his head, his hand grabbed your buttocks tightly, pushing it to the side so he could look and see how his cock was already coated with a white liquid from the friction. “milking my cock already.” he scoffed, giving you another firm slap on your ass cheek.

“i-it was a snake. a snake.” you cried, coaxing a groan from the back of his throat, his pace quickening as his smile widened. the scent of sex surrounding you both and permeating the interrogation room. 

“mhmm, good girl. well, you were actually useful to me.” he said in a tone of mere disdain, deep down a bit of desire dripping into his voice as he pounded into you restlessly. the way he said it did things to you, and soon you were collapsing on his cock, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him like a vice. 

he forced himself to pull out of you. of course, he wasn't using a condom, he would never risk it. he watched with wide and attentive eyes while you were reduced to a mess, your cunt gaped, oozing arousal, a strong pink hue predominated, demonstrating how abused your hole was because of him.

turner looked down at his cock, it was so hard that it was painful the veins were much more marked and the reddened tip was leaking precum, he needed to release it somehow. he grunted, tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping up. he didn't ask if you were okay. he knew you were. 

he cleared his throat, watching you collapse into the chair behind you. you were breathless and blissed out with all that happened.

it took a while before you could put on your jeans, you felt like you were completely boneless now, every part of your body was exhausted and begged for bed and two muscle relaxant capsules. 

“alright, the interrogation is over, you can leave.” he said to you, sitting back down in his chair, taking a sip of the coffee that was still warm. simple as that. you weren't expecting more, actually. 

you held your purse, feeling a pain in your cervix that you knew would last a couple of days, but it was worth it. you wiped your face, wiping away the sweat and fixing your hair so it didn't look like you were hit by a bus.

“i think he was a drug dealer.” you said, stopping at your tracks. "that area has a lot of them and she wasn't a saint either. but she was a nice person.” 

the investigator nodded, noticing the hint of resignation in your voice. that was all he needed to know, actually. the police didn't get too involved in cases involving drug trafficking. society had its laws and they had theirs. the police didn't have much power in that regard — in fact, they didn't want to fight. what would the militia be without drug trafficking, by the way?

“thanks for your cooperation.” he replied. you nodded, pressing your swollen lips against each other, forming a thin line. “there will be a vehicle with two cops outside to take you home safely.”

“is that all? i mean if you need anything else…”

he interrupted you. “i know. i have everything about you here.” he tapped the sheet with your file. “besides, i'm an investigator. i will find you.”

you could see the shadow of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. but you weren't sure. he was so hard to read. you nodded, excusing yourself and walked to the door, unlocking it and leaving the interrogation room without looking back. 

turner spent a good few seconds staring blankly at the closed black door. he didn't know what he was thinking exactly. it wasn't like he fucked every witness he questioned. but he didn't regret it either. 

he shook his head, collecting all the paperwork again, seeing that you had drooled over some of it, smudging the written words with printer ink. he didn't care. it wasn't like this investigation was going to go anywhere. he carefully placed all the papers in the file folder, turning off the recorder. 

his body relaxed a little in the chair, his head fell back and he closed his eyes, rubbing his closed eyelids hard with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. your moans were still echoing through his head. he had to admit, he liked you. 

his cock throbbed again at the thought of you, he had almost forgotten about his own problem now. he would have to spend a few minutes fucking his fist in his office to get some relief.

before he got up from his chair to leave the interrogation room, he picked up the small notebook, looking at what you wrote. his eyes rested on your handwriting before he closed it and picked up the pen, starting to scribble on the investigation update sheet on the cover of the brown file.

#case 521 — tori baker

status: closed…?

a/n: i shoud be working rn...

taglist: @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

(if there are more people who asked to be on the taglist, please enlighten me again, i must have forgotten to include :x)

[quack-quack-snacks]

Silver Bird

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Gray Man/Courtland Gentry Masterlist

Pairing(s): Courtland Gentry x Fem!Claire's Nurse!Reader Summary: Falling in love with your uncle's criminal recruit wasn't something on your to-do list, but it seemed to happen anyway. Warnings: Medical stuff, canonical violence, blood, fighting, Word Count: 7,460 Extra Notes: I came back for a minute to post this but I'm still on a hiatus with all of my writing! Also, Reader is a freaky genius girl just like Gabriella from High School Musical, and basically is the youngest person to ever graduate with a medical degree and start practicing medicine with a full license. I looked it up, and Court is supposed to be about 35 for the majority of the movie, so I am making the reader around that same age. I was also not able to find a conclusive answer to how Claire’s parents died, so I kinda just made it up. Happy reading!

pt 2

Claire Fitzroy was a one-of-a-kind kid whom you’d babysat since you were 17 years old. You’d known her parents and uncle for even longer, your mother being good friends with hers and even the maid of honor at her mother’s wedding. You were there as a guest for the special day, despite not being able to remember much of it. The only thing you remembered about it was being the designated flower girl for the day. When you look at photos of the day, you see yourself in a red and purple flowered dress, though you distinctly remember it being green and blue ombre. That might have been the tablecloths, though. 

It was when you were 17 years old and Claire was first born with her heart condition that you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Sitting in that hospital hallway with your head in your hands as you waited for the news of Claire, who wasn’t breathing when she came out of your aunt’s womb, you felt so helpless and fearful. You never wanted to feel that way again, especially not in regards to the baby girl you held in your arms only a few hours later. It was love at first sight, and you knew you would do anything for this girl until your days came to an end. 

So, with all of that in mind, as you graduated high school and started college, you started your path in medical care, specializing in pediatrics so you would be able to help them with taking care of the young girl alongside her full-time nurse on standby. 

Within only six years, you became the youngest person to ever graduate with a medical license. It wasn’t something all that special to you, considering it was all for one person. All for her, the girl you viewed as your little sister and the person who meant the most to you in this world. As soon as you graduated from med school, you became Claire’s full-time caretaker, a fact that her and your parents were more than thrilled about. It helped that Claire absolutely adored you even as an infant. She would always act up unless you were in the room or holding her, and it warmed your heart each and every time. Being able to be around her now every minute of the day was something that made you more than happy, especially since even though you’d heard stories of her being a bit of a hellion for her parents, she was nothing but an angel when around you. 

Overall, at only the age of 25, you were the happiest you could ever be with your life as fulfilling as it could be, and your heart full all the time. 

That all changed, though, when the Fire Nation attacked when you turned 28, and both she and your parents died on their way back from the store buying your birthday present. It was a truck pile-up that killed them, though the circumstances always seemed especially strange for reasons you couldn’t quite place your finger on. 

You held a sobbing Claire in the hospital hallway that night, suppressing your own tears as she exhausted herself and eventually fell asleep in your arms. Later on, Claire’s uncle, Donald, came walking out of their hospital room with a sullen and pale look on his face. It was only at the subtle shake of his head that you let the first tear drop fall. 

It had been three years since that day, and you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday that same way since. It became a cursed day that brought a heavy rain cloud over your head whenever it approached. Claire had been able to grow from it, and it luckily didn’t impact her personality too much, at least not in a concerning way. She seemed more mellow and sad at times, especially when the anniversary of their death came up, but she was still the same amazing girl you would always love and cherish. 

It was an awkward time of year, your birthday. Especially for Claire. You could tell it was strange for the day of her parents' death, along with yours, and your birthday, a day of celebration, to be on the same day because she was never quite sure about what to do. 

Was she supposed to celebrate? 

Would you get sad if she threw you a little surprise birthday party? 

She really had no idea how you felt about the day, when each time it rolled up, you were always taking care of her and making sure she was feeling alright on the day of your family members’ deaths. You never mentioned your birthday, but you always made sure hers was the best day you could ask for. 

Although it’s 100% not how you would have wanted the rest of your life to be spent - living in sadness on the one day of your life your parents always tried to make the happiest of the year - you couldn’t do anything to change it and decided to at least make it so that Claire wouldn’t have to struggle that same sadness of a day that is supposed to bring her joy. 

When Donald told you about the release of information about the house in Hong Kong that the three of you lived in, you were rightfully anxious. You had known about your uncle’s job since you were a child, and it never bothered you, but this was one of the few times you wished he had a normal, boring job like the rest of the world. 

Not that you didn’t already wish that for him, but now especially that it was putting more people you care about in danger. 

You were glad he was already way ahead of you about the safety of not only Claire, but also of you. Donald had not only taken over as the acting guardian of Claire, but he also had become a sort of father figure for you to rely on in times of need. With you being the motherly figure of Claire at such a young age, it became hard for you at times to keep up the happy sisterly nurse for her, always strong and never allowing yourself to crumble in front of her, because the gods knew she needed someone like that. With Donald around, you allowed yourself to fall apart bit by bit in his presence because you knew he would always be around to catch you. With him being away on work for most of the time, you were the main caretaker and family member of Claire, and he repaid that not only with money - because yes, he did pay you very handsomely - but also with a shoulder for you to cry on. 

He briefed you on Six and what exactly he would be doing in Donald’s place while he was away. Although you weren’t the most comfortable with a stranger in the house at all times, you trusted your uncle with your life. If he trusted this man, then that would be the person in charge of your and Claire’s safety for the time being. 

A knock on the door brought you back to the present, where you had been helping Claire look through her records. It was a sort of tradition of yours to pretend to be interested in the other songs when, in reality, you both knew you would choose Silver Bird by Mark Lindsay. After all, it was both of your favorite songs because it was the birthday present your parents had gone to get for you before their crash. Unfortunately, the one they bought was destroyed beyond repair, but you bought a different one and pretended in your mind it was the same one they bought for you. 

You got up from where you were kneeling on her bed beside her and ruffled her hair a bit before walking to the front door. You had no doubt the person at the door was this mysterious Six, but you were still slightly cautious and worried about the chance that it wasn’t him. 

Looking through the peephole, you saw a man in a dark purple button-up with a gray blazer and matching slacks. Opening up the small mail slot on the door, you spoke. “Identity Challenge: Virgo.”

He responded within a heartbeat. “Response: Jupiter.”

You let out a sigh of relief and relaxed your shoulders that you hadn’t even realized were tensed up. Unlocking the door and opening it up, you got a good look at the man you would be spending the next few months with. 

You remember being shocked and scared when you heard how long your uncle was going to be gone for, but there was nothing you could do. His job was demanding, and you could only hope he remained safe throughout it all. He was much more handsome than he was through the distortion of the peephole. You stuck a hand out for him. “Welcome to the Fitzroy house, Mr. Six,” you started, giving him your name right afterwards. “I’m Claire’s primary and full-time nurse and also Donald’s other niece, though not by blood. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know,” you told him with a kind smile. He nodded and stepped through the door, closing it behind him, as you turned to start leading him into the house and to Claire’s room. 

“Claire Bear,” you said as you entered the room, noticing she had stopped looking through the records, having chosen Silver Bird as expected and started playing it on the record player, and was now messing around with the Polaroid camera you got for her on her last birthday. “This is… Six. He’ll be staying and looking after us and the house while Uncle D is away.”

Six looked around the room, scanning everything like a true security guard before walking over to the side of the room Claire was at. “Just the two exits?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you confirmed. 

After a moment of silence, Claire spoke up. “Six is an odd name.”

“Claire!” You scolded gently. She sent you a semi-apologetic glance before the man spoke up. 

“Yeah, just, uh, 007 was taken, so…” He shrugged, and you let a small sigh of relief, glad he didn’t take any personal offense to the comment. You knew very little about the man from what your uncle told you, so knowing whether Six was his real name or an alias was something that wasn’t mentioned, and you weren’t too keen on asking about it. At least not yet. 

“Are you chewing gum?” Claire asked. While they talked, you started collecting the records off the bed to put them back on the shelf under the record player where they belong. 

“Yep.”

“We don’t chew gum in this house.”

He sent a glance over at you as he spoke, and you smiled a small, slightly amused smile.

“I wasn’t… briefed,” just in that moment, Claire took a photo of the man with her Polaroid. “Won’t happen… again. Well, I’ll try and stay out of your way, for both of you. Do you mind?” He asked before leaning down and picking up the picture she had just taken of him. After inspecting it for a moment, he asked, “May I?” Indicating he would like to take the photo. 

Claire shrugged and replied, “Sure.”

“Thanks,” he expressed as he placed the photo in the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “Nice to meet you,” he said, glancing between you and Claire. 

“Likewise, let me know if you need anything,” you told him for the second time. He nodded and walked back out the door of Claire’s room, presumably scanning the rest of the house and doing his job. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Claire mocked after making sure Six had gotten far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Can you be any more obvious?”

Your jaw dropped, and you lightly slapped her arm. “Claire! There was nothing to be obvious about,” you deflected, and she raised her eyebrows at you. 

“Uh-huh. Sure. I might be 13, but I’m not stupid. You’ve got the hots for that guy,” she said while lightly nudging her elbow into your ribs. 

Your jaw dropped even further. “Where did you even learn that term? That’s insane, and you’re insane. Shut up,” you rambled, flustered, and turning your head away from her as she laughed. 

You did not have the hots for this new attractive bodyguard your uncle assigned to the two of you. You didn’t. 

Okay, so you might have the hots for the new attractive bodyguard your uncle assigned to the two of you. Maybe. But it was only because you spent so little time with people outside of taking care of Claire that it was just nice seeing another face around. You got lonely sometimes in the sense of not having many friends, and the friends you did have, you never really hung out with. 

So yeah, maybe you did have the hots for this new guy, but could you blame yourself?

The second time you interacted with Six was later that day in the kitchen as you were preparing a grilled cheese sandwich and broccoli cheese soup (because she doesn’t like tomato soup) for Claire. He walked in with an empty water bottle in his hand. When he saw you, he practically turned the other way and started walking again. “Sorry, I’ll leave you be.”

Without turning around, you spoke up. “Six, you don’t have to completely avoid us. You’re here to protect us, but this is going to be your home as well for the next couple of months. I hope we don’t make you feel uncomfortable because that’s the exact opposite of what I want to do.”

When you turned back around to look at him, he was practically frozen in place. It took a moment of the two of you holding eye contact for him to respond. “Thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

He was a man of few words, that was for sure, but it wasn’t really something you minded. As long as he understood what you were saying, then that was all you needed. 

The third time you interacted with Six was around 5 o’clock that day, outside beside the pool, as you and Claire sat on a hanging chair. You were reading a book, and Claire was on her phone playing her favorite game. He walked up the steps beside the house, eating a sandwich, before doing the same thing he did earlier that afternoon and turned around to walk back in the direction he came from. “Excuse me.”

“Looking for your jacket?” Claire asked. He turned around, walking back in your direction before she continued in a mischievous tone. “Looks like I sat on it!”

You scoffed out a laugh, glancing up at Six before going back to your book. 

“Is that a secure phone?” He asked. He was only a few feet away from you now, your knee nearly grazing against his thigh. 

“All of our phones are secure, don’t worry, Donald had that ensured,” you told him softly, still looking at your book. 

“Just got the high score,” Claire said while showing him the phone screen. That made you snap your head to her, looking at her phone to make sure she was telling the truth.

She was. 

You clicked your tongue, annoyed. That was your high score that she beat. Now you just had to beat it again. 

Claire stuck her tongue out at you childishly, and you scrunched your nose at her playfully. She looked back at Six to continue the conversation. “I had a lot of time to practice after the operation. They made me stay in bed.” She waited a moment, and when she realized Six wasn’t going to respond, she continued with a more mocking tone in her voice. “‘How long they make you stay in bed for?’ Quite a long time. Several weeks, actually. ‘Oh, hope you’re okay.’ Better now, Six. Thanks for asking! How’s your time been here? Enjoying the grounds? ‘Oh, they’re lovely. I like to walk in circles and stare at my shoes.’” You nudged her in the side scoldingly.

“Can I get that jacket?” He asked instead of responding to anything she said. Claire pressed her lips together before pulling the jacket out from under her and handing it to the man. 

“I like your tattoo,” she tried another conversation, hoping he would open up and talk to her. “Where’d you get it, prison?”

You pressed a hand to your forehead and let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “Claire, you can’t just say things like that, dude.”

Six sent you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher before responding to Claire. “Yeah, actually.”

“I’m shocked,” the girl responded sarcastically. 

He nodded his head to the side in acknowledgment before turning around and walking until he stopped at the 13-year-old’s next words. 

“What’s it mean? The writing?”

“Oh, it’s, you know… Just a guy’s name in Greek.”

That caught your attention, and you placed your bookmark in your book to mark your spot before setting it down in your lap and listening to the conversation. Six glanced over at you, noticing this, and you smiled. 

“What guy?” Claire asked persistently. 

“Just a guy. You know, trying to get a rock up a hill.”

“Why?”

“They made him.”

“Who made him?”

“The gods.”

“Did they need a rock?” She asked, and you let out a small laugh. 

“They were just trying to punish him, I think.”

“Did he deserve it?” She asked him, continuing the conversation even though you could kind of tell Six was getting anxious to leave it. 

“Probably.”

“Did he like it?”

“Probably not.”

“So why’d he do it?”

Six nodded thoughtfully before saying, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you’re quite the conversationalist,” she retorted. You sent the man an apologetic look before he nodded in both of your directions and replied. 

“I’m going to get back to work.”

When he was about halfway across the patio, Claire spoke up again. “Hey! Does he ever get to the top of the hill?”

Six let out a short laugh. “I’ll let you know.”

As he walked off, Claire let out a sigh. “He’s boring to talk to.”

“Well, he wasn’t sent here to talk to us, so I think he’s doing pretty well considering everything,” you told her while poking her cheek annoyingly. 

She slapped your hand away with a laugh and went back to playing the game on her phone. 

You narrowed your eyes and snatched the phone out of her hand. “Gimme that. You can’t just beat my high score and get away with it!” You told her playfully while starting up a new game. That started a mini war between the two of you, where she would try to do whatever she could to distract you from the game while you tried to beat her new high score. 

In the end, you weren’t able to beat it (and you definitely weren’t purposely doing worse to allow her the win). 

The next couple of weeks went by without a hitch. Six was still somewhat distant and relatively emotionally absent in both your and Claire’s presence, not to mention the lack of conversation skills he had, but he seemed to be getting more comfortable and less awkward around you two. He would make more jokes, that dry, almost dad humor of his more than enough to make you crack a smile or laugh aloud, and he was also getting less and less shy with touching you, though shy wasn’t exactly the right word for how he had been before, more distant. While his touch never lasted more than a few seconds, he didn’t hold back on placing a hand on the small of your back when he gently manhandled you away from a cabinet he was trying to get into, or when he walked behind you and lightly brushed his hand against your back so that you knew he was there.

Or even when you fell asleep at the table during your nightly tradition of staying there with him, and he picked you up to bring you to your room. 

Your relationship with him had become something new. Less than friends, but more than strangers. It was nameless, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Now, when there was silence, you didn’t feel like you had to immediately fill it. It was comfortable. He was comfortable. You even started a little ritual where you would sit at the table with him after you put Claire to bed. He would watch the cameras, and you would either read, work on the puzzle that was on the table and had been for weeks, or talk with him. 

The talking was usually one-sided, however, and you rarely got more than a one-word response or a grunt. That didn’t stop you from rambling about anything and everything under the stars. He might not be the best conversationalist but he was a damn good listener. 

Tonight was like any other night. You’d put Claire to bed about an hour earlier and had been sitting at the table like you’d done for the past week or so. Tonight, you were reading on your Kindle. It was a romance story about a princess and her appointed knight. The princess and the knight were in love, big shocker, but it was forbidden for them to be together. 

Lowering the Kindle to your lap, your thoughts drifted off. You couldn’t help but relate yourself and your situation to the book. Although you were no princess, you somehow felt like the princess in the book, slowly falling for her knight in shining armour. The only difference was that it seemed to be a bit more one-sided in your story. It had only been a couple of weeks since he’d arrived but with every interaction, every soft chuckle you got out of him when you said something silly, every small smile he shot Claire’s way when she was being her normal, amazing self made you feel things you’d never felt before for anyone. 

You knew about his line of work, though, and specifically about who he was. He was a ghost. He didn’t exist to the world, therefore, he shouldn’t even exist to you. You knew he would never feel the same way, and even if he did, he would never be allowed to act upon it. 

But he did exist to you, and that was what made it so hard to get over your growing feelings for him. 

With your thoughts distracted and your teeth unconsciously biting at your lower lip, you hadn’t noticed the way Six kept glancing over at you every couple of seconds. It was only when he spoke that you got shaken from the thoughts in your mind and looked over at him. “Claire doesn’t like it when you do that.”

“When I do what?” You asked, confused. 

“Chew on your lip,” he said simply. 

He was right. Each time Claire caught you chewing your lip, she always smacked you on the arm and scolded you the same way you always scolded her for picking at her cuticles. It made you laugh that he noticed that, and you forced yourself to release your lip from its tooth jail and sigh. “Most of the time, I do it subconsciously. I’ve been trying to get myself to quit it for years, but I’ve never been able to,” you confessed, leaning back in your chair after completely giving up on reading and turning the Kindle off.

He hummed in response, and you let out a soft little laugh sound that he quirked a smile at. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and continue the conversation, you saw him sneakily opening up a packet of gum, sending you a look before he asked, “Well, are you going to tell on me for chewing gum in the house?”

You stared at him incredulously as he stuffed the gum into his mouth and started chewing. You scoffed out a laugh and shook your head. “Your secret’s safe with me, Mr. Number Man,” you teased. 

Just as he was about to say something in response, the two of you heard a familiar, feminine voice call out for you and then for the man next to you. “Mr. Six…” She started, her voice sounding strained and laborious. “Something’s wrong,” she gasped out before falling to the floor in a heap. 

“Claire!” You yelled out, standing up as soon as she started falling. Six was two steps ahead of you, already running over to her and picking her up. You didn’t even need his instructions when you grabbed the car keys and your phone before heading to the door and opening it for him. It took you less than a minute for you to unlock the car, get in the backseat where Six quickly but gently placed Claire onto your lap, and for him to get into the front and start driving. The entire way, you kept a finger over Claire’s pulse to keep count of her heart rate, all while giving Six directions to Mount St. Mary’s. 

When you got there, the car had barely come to a stop before Six had put it into park and opened the door. You followed closely behind him as he carried her into the hospital and placed her onto a wheeled bed as doctors crowded around her and wheeled her away. You followed them as far as you could until they told you to go sit in the hallway until further notice. You sat with your head in your hands while Six stood beside you, offering support with his presence, even if he didn’t hug you or hold your hand. 

Later on, after the doctors had transferred her over to a regular hospital room, you were able to go in and see her. The entire time the doctor was speaking, you were holding Claire’s hand with the gentlest grip despite how you wanted to squeeze it for dear life at the fear she just instilled in you. 

“She’s stabilized,” the doctor told you, pointing at her now regulated heart rate. “Tell Donald there was a programming glitch. We were able to repair it, non-invasive.”

You nodded before asking. “Is there any possibility this could happen again? Should I- should we be worried?” You corrected yourself. There were the occasional times when you would forget Claire wasn’t your real sister or daughter. 

“The probability of this happening again is very slim, but we would like to keep her here for a couple of days to make sure everything stays as it should. We managed to fix it and place some backup protocols into the program as well. The remote system flagged it ten minutes before you pulled up. We can keep track of her pacemaker from just about anywhere.”

“Thank you, really. I’ll let her uncle know right away.”

The doctor nodded at you before you turned to face the small girl. Despite being in such a fragile condition, she was still the strongest girl you’d ever met. You leaned over her to kiss her forehead. With a playful smirk, you told her, “Try not to get into any more trouble in the few minutes I’m away.”

She clicked her tongue, her voice sounding muffled under the mask. “No promises.”

You winked and gently placed her hand down before walking away and passing Six with an acknowledging nod of your head on your way out of the room. Grabbing your phone out of your back pocket, you dialed up your uncle's number and waited for him to answer. Once he spoke into the phone, you let out a small sigh of relief. 

“Hey, Uncle D., Claire had an accident. Her pacemaker had a malfunction, so we brought her to the hospital.”

“Is she doing better?” He asked, and you could hear the worried tremor in his voice. 

“Yeah.. yeah, she’s doing okay now. They fixed the glitch and everything, but I just wanted to let you know. It was a non-invasive procedure, and they had tracked the glitch ten minutes before we even arrived at the hospital,” you told him. 

“Okay. That’s good to hear.”

“They want her to stay here for another day or two just to keep an eye on her. Six and I are going to stay with her the entire time, so we will be okay.”

“Alright, sweetie. Let me know if anything changes, alright?”

“Yeah, will do. Do you want to speak to Claire? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. I don’t think she’s asleep yet,” you suggested.

“No, let the poor girl get some rest. I’ll call her tomorrow if I can. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay, bye, uncle, we love you.”

With that, you hung up and walked back over to the door of Claire’s room, where you leaned against the opposite wall from Six. Glancing over at Claire, you saw her fast asleep, and you smiled. 

“You doing alright?” Six asked. When you turned back to look at him, you saw him already looking at you, which caused your breath to hitch in your throat. 

You nodded while staring into his clear blue eyes. “Yeah, I’m doing fine. A little worried about Claire, sure, but I know she’ll be okay. She’s a whole lot tougher than me and maybe even tougher than you,” you joked.

He smiled back at you, and you mentally pat yourself on your back. “Oh, definitely. I’m a giant wuss compared to her.”

You giggled softly before letting out a yawn. “You need me to stay up with you, or are you good to keep watch by yourself?” You asked playfully, knowing he doesn’t need any help for the job he does every night. 

He confirmed that thought when he shook his head. “I’ll be alright. Get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Goodnight, Six.”

“Goodnight,” he replied just as softly. 

You walked into the room to take a seat on the cushioned chair in the corner of the room, and it was only seconds after your head rested against the side that you conked out for the night. 

The next day and a half were relatively boring. You sat on Claire’s bed with her, chatting away and watching her get a new high score after you downloaded her favorite app for her on your phone since you had left hers at home before you left. Six watched over the two of you the entire time, making sure only confirmed doctors and nurses came into the room with the three of you. It was only later, the next day, after all three of you were tired of living within the same four walls and ready to go home, that Claire was finally cleared to leave. The three of you practically sprinted to the car and started your journey back to the place you called home. 

When you finally parked in the house’s driveway, you helped Claire get out of the car and sat her down at the kitchen table as soon as you entered it. With a mischievous gleam in your eyes, you snuck over to the freezer and pulled out the tub of chocolate ice cream you knew was her favorite. Her eyes lit up once she saw it, and you laughed, getting a bowl and serving two scoops of ice cream into it. Placing it down in front of her, you messed with her hair before kissing the crown of her head. You gestured with your hand to Six, asking if he wanted any ice cream, to which he shook his head at. You nodded, flashing him a smile and walking over to wash the ice cream scooper. 

“You feeling better?” Six asked the young girl as she scooped the ice cream into her mouth. You listened to the conversation over the sound of the rushing water from the sink. 

She shrugged. “Just another Thursday.” Six nodded before Claire continued with a happier sigh, leaving her chest. “Donald says this is the best medicine. Ice cream? I tend to agree.”

“He’s a very smart man,” Six agreed with a quirk of his lips. You smiled at the interaction. 

“Only family I got,” Claire told him, her smile falling from her lips and being replaced by a slightly more somber look. 

“Closest thing to family I got too.”

The 11-year-old rested her head on her hand as she looked over at Six with a thoughtful expression. “Maybe that kind of makes us family.”

You finished up your dishes and watched as Six looked over at her with a soft look on his face before shooting her a small, quick smile. 

Claire yawned, and within a heartbeat, Six said, “You should go to bed.”

You dried your hands as he did, walking over to place your hands on the girl’s shoulders and guide her out of the chair. “Alright, Claire Bear. You heard the mathematician. Off to bed you go.”

“Night, Robot,” Claire told Six as the two of you walked away. 

“Good night, Claire,” he said to her in response. 

You winked at him. “Goodnight, Mr. Mathematician.”

He nodded your way with a somewhat forced smile as you walked away. You noticed the furrowedness of his eyebrows, though you ignored the way it made you nervous. 

“You want to take a bath before you go to sleep? Rinse off the hospital smell?” You asked Claire while walking to her bedroom. 

She scoffed. “Is this your way of telling me I stink?”

“What? No! That would be crazy,” you told her as you plugged your nose playfully and fanned your hand in front of your face. 

She laughed just as you got to the bedroom door and entered it. “Can I play a record?

“Okay, fine. You can only play them until your bath is done, though, okay? You’ve had a long past few days, and I don’t want you to stay up for any longer than you need to. I’ll go start the bath while you start that up.”

A few minutes later, she was sitting in the tub, scrubbing herself clean while you tidied things up around her room, listening to ‘Silver Bird’ reverberate throughout the room. When she called out for you, you walked over to the door, still allowing her to have her privacy as you asked what was wrong. 

“I just ran out of conditioner. Could you get some from under the sink in Donald’s room?” She pleaded. You stuck your thumb up from around the corned, smiling when she giggled. 

“You got it, Claire Bear.”

“I think I’m getting too old for that nickname, you know?” 

“You’ll never outgrow being my Claire Bear,” you refuted, sticking your thumb down around the corner and hearing her laugh again. 

“Okay, whatever. Go get me that conditioner, peasant.”

You scoffed playfully at her demanding (yet also playful) tone before walking out of her bedroom and heading in the direction of Donald’s room. Just as you were about to pass by the kitchen, you noticed Six wasn’t in his normal spot. You were a bit confused, so you called out his name, only to have a gloved hand place a knife up against your throat and another stick a gun out in front of you to whoever may be in the house (AKA Six). 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to be quiet, and you’re going to lead me to where the girl is, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

You grit your teeth, finding courage to speak up despite the fear coursing through your bones. “Here’s what’s actually going to happen. You’re going to go to hell and I’m going to stomp on your grave, you piece of shit.”

You heard him angrily curse you out and you prepared yourself for the worst as you felt the knife dig into your skin more, cutting it just enough for a drop of blood to start trailing down your neck, when he was suddenly yanked away from you, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter and incidentally shoving your forward where you tumbled into the tall, brick pillars in the house. Your forehead scraped against it as you tried to cushion your fall with your hands, only to be a bit too late. You quickly spun yourself around, getting vertigo in the process, and looked only to avert your gaze from the violent scene in front of you. Your eyes were clenched tightly, and you only noticed the fight was over when a careful, gentle hand placed itself upon your cheek. Instinctively, you swung your hand out to hit him square in the face. Thankfully, for his safety and your sanity, he caught your fist mid-air and placed it on his chest over his heart. He stood with you for a few minutes, letting you follow his breathing as you attempted to regulate your anxious breaths and get your heart rate back to normal. 

When you finally calmed down enough to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs, you leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist without thinking. After a moment or two of his body remaining still and not returning your affection, you quickly backed away and apologized. “Shit. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done tha-”

You were cut off when he grabbed onto your arms and pulled you back into his chest, leaving no room between the two of you. He leaned his cheek against the crown of your head as he held you tightly. “Don’t apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” After a moment, he gently separated you from him and took a look at you, finally fully assessing the damage over your forehead and neck. “We should get this cleaned up. Is your head hurting at all?”

“Well, my forehead kind of stings, but I don’t have a headache or anything like that, so most likely no concussion.”

He nodded. “Good. Go sit at the table, I’ll bring over the first aid kit.”

Before you could even protest or ask if he even knew where the kit was, he was already walking away. You sighed and sat down at the table as you were told to do. Seconds later, he returned with a washcloth and the first aid kit in hand. You watched him move in silence as he prepared to clean you up. When he brought the washcloth doused in rubbing alcohol up to your head, you barely even felt the sting as his eyes captured yours. Even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, they were still the brightest and most mesmerizing things you’d ever seen. 

“Does that hurt?” He asked, his voice soft and careful as his eyes flickered between the cut above your brow and your eyes. 

You lightly shook your head. “No.”

He cracked a smile as he quipped. “Joining the tough gang, huh? Welcome to the club.”

You exhaled through your nose in amusement just as your eyes started to feel heavy. The adrenaline from the night had started to wear off, and you could feel the ache in your bones weigh down on you. “I guess I have,” you spoke through a yawn. He snorted but said nothing else as he finished with the cut on your brow and moved on to the cut on your throat. You knew you were probably in shock, but you expected to be a little more scared and shaken up after having nearly been killed. All you really felt was tired. 

Just as he finished putting the bandages over your cuts, Claire walked out of her room with her pajamas on and her hair still wet. “Did you forget you were supposed to bring me some conditioner? What took you so lon-”

Her words got cut off by her own finding as she saw the two shoes belonging to a stranger peeking out from around a corner. When she looked over at you and Six sitting at the table, you both stood up immediately. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked hesitantly, looking specifically at you since you seemed the most beat up out of the two of you. 

“Yeah,” Six answered in your stead. “Broke a bowl.”

“Yeah, and I just accidentally cut myself while… shaving…?”

Claire, obviously, did not look convinced. “You sure you’re alright?” Her eyes flashed back and forth between you, Six, and the body lying on the floor.

“Yeah. Just another Thursday,” Six threw her words from earlier back at her, and she hesitantly nodded. “You should go to bed. Goodnight.” She lingered hesitantly, and it was only when you passed by Six, placing a grateful hand on his shoulder in a silent way of saying thanks, and walked over to her to lead her back to her room, that she let it go and went back to bed. 

Things changed for you and Six after that night. Before, even if he was slowly becoming more comfortable with occasionally touching you, he tried not to do it that much. It was only now that he seemed to find excuses to touch you. 

Having trouble getting a glass off the tall shelf (that you were secretly pretty sure he moved so he could do this exact thing)? He was already standing behind you with one hand on your waist and the other reaching above you to grab the glass for you. 

Handing him a coffee in the morning so he would have an easier time staying awake after staying up all night watching the cameras? His fingers were slowly brushing against yours as he grabbed it from you. 

Have an eyelash on your cheek? Six was already closing in on you and taking it off, holding it out for you on his thumb while he waited for you to make a wish. 

Things were beginning to get so good, and your feelings were growing more and more each day until you felt like you would burst at the seams with affection for this man who stole your heart in less than two months. 

And you decided too late to tell him. 

2 days after you finally admitted to yourself you were in love with him and planned on confessing, your uncle came back home. You were ecstatic to see him, of course, but seeing him also meant that Six would be leaving, and that was something that broke your heart. 

When your uncle walked through the door with little bits and bobbles from his trip that he decided to bring back home with him, you didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry. Not even when Six went up to him and shook his hand, patting him on the shoulder and using government terminology you definitely hadn’t heard before, even in your time spent around your uncle and his subordinates. 

When Six grabbed the camping bag he’d brought with him for the trip that was already packed (he never unpacked it in the first place), you knew it would be a goodbye you would hear from him next. 

He stopped in front of Claire first, kneeling down in front of her and holding his hand out for her to clap before they both snapped, their own mini handshake. “See you around, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid, I’m currently taller than you,” she joked with a bittersweet lilt in her voice. 

Six gave his signature amused quirk of the lips before standing back up to his full height and walking over to you. “Hey,” he said softly. 

“Hi,” you said with the same tone. 

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again, so take care of yourself, will you? Claire can’t have her favorite nurse getting sick, now, can she?”

You let out a sad laugh. “Yeah, guess not. You try and do the same, won’t you? I can’t have my favorite mathematician dying, now, can I?” You joked in the same way, though yours was much more real and much more serious than his. 

He just nodded, not saying anything, so he wasn’t making any promises he might not be able to keep. With a hand giving your arm a long, gentle squeeze that conveyed more than just a goodbye, he turned around and disappeared into the black SUV, out of the driveway, and out of your life forever. 

But forever never truly meant forever, did it?

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 4

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1588

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

Time passed quickly. After returning home, she didn't know what to do with herself. You were curious about what your new lecturer had come up with, but you were also afraid that someone would catch you. You knew that sooner or later the affair with your teacher would come to light, although you hoped it would happen later rather than sooner. 

Around eight o'clock in the evening you started getting ready for the meeting. You took a quick shower and put on a red lingerie set. You were to appear at his place after ten o'clock. You checked his address on the Internet. It turned out that Minho didn't live that far from your apartment. All you had to do was take a two-stop bus ride and you'd be there. As long as the bus wasn't late....

You put on black high-waisted pants and a plain white T-shirt. You improved your delicate makeup and, accentuating your lips with red lip gloss, you smiled at your reflection in the mirror. You were ready. On your way out, you picked up your black jacket and went to meet your teacher. 

“Should I take a gift with me?” You asked yourself. “But what does he like...?” 

You began to wonder. You didn't really know anything about him. What did he like? What did he not like? How old was he? Did he live alone? Did he have a wife? A child? Nooo, since he invited you, he must have lived alone. A lot of questions started swirling in your head. You sighed heavily. 

You glanced at your watch - you should have left by now. You took a bottle of red wine from the bar in the living room and put it in your purse. On your way out of the apartment you also took an umbrella, in case it was going to rain when you got home in the morning. You locked the door and headed for the bus stop. 

It was already dark all around, and there were few cars on the street. You waited impatiently for the bus, which was late as usual. You glanced nervously at your watch.  Should I text him? You asked yourself in your mind. No... I'll be with him soon... You began to think. 

Your pondering did not last long. The bus arrived. You got on it and headed towards your lecturer's house. Moments later you were standing in front of the door to his apartment. You rang the bell and waited. After a while, the door to the apartment opened. 

Lee Minho stood before you, wrapped in a white towel around his waist. A few more drops of water dripped from his damp hair. Your gaze followed one that ran down his entire torso, stopping only at the edge of the towel. A blush appeared on your cheeks, and you swallowed your saliva and bit your lip slightly. Minho smiled gently at this sight. 

“Hi kitten.” He said in a slightly more sensual tone. “I was expecting you a little earlier... would you like to come in?” He moved over and let you in. 

“Ekhm, yes... sorry the bus was late.” You replied, to which the man nodded. “I brought wine, I don't know if you like it, but I thought... ”

“That we could drink it together? Great idea!” He interrupted you in half a word and took the bottle from you. “Make yourself comfortable sunshine, I'll get back to you in a minute.” He added and disappeared into the bedroom. 

You had a moment to look around his apartment. The living room was connected to the kitchen. Minho apparently liked the open space. The dark furniture contrasted perfectly with the gray walls. The kitchen was decorated in a modern way, with only a bar separating it from the living room. In the corner of the living room you noticed a winding staircase that led to something, like an entresol. The corridor where you were standing also led to the room where Minho had probably disappeared and the bathroom, which was located right next door. 

You looked inside. You were struck by a pleasant wave of heat, following Minho's recent shower. You looked around the interior. Like the living room, the bathroom decor was rather dark. A large bathtub, which could easily fit two people, stood on a delicate platform against one of the walls. On the opposite wall was a large, glass-enclosed shower, and in the middle was a large countertop constructed of black marble, with a built-in sink. Above the countertop hung a huge mirror, covering the entire wall with its surface. 

“Wow...” You let out. Minho's bathroom could definitely accommodate your entire bedroom. 

“Why did I know you would be right here?” You heard his voice behind you. You jumped up, slightly frightened, and turned toward him. He was standing leaning against the doorframe, with his arms folded across his chest. He was smiling sassily at you. “Come on kitten, let's drink some wine.” He added and winked at you. Without a word, you moved behind him, watching as the white shirt he had to throw on when he entered the next room framed his muscles and the black pants highlighted his buttocks. 

“You have a nice apartment.” You said, standing at the kitchen counter and watching Minho open a bottle of wine and pour the drink into glasses. “Did you decorate it yourself?” 

“Mhm, I actually did everything myself.” He admitted handing you a glass. “I'm glad you like it.” 

“It's so... elegant. And big, definitely bigger than mine.” You said and took a sip of wine. The alcohol warmed your throat pleasantly. 

“I must come to you one day and judge for myself.” He smiled slightly at you. “Have you seen my hot tub on the balcony?”

“You have a hot tub?” You grinned. “I didn't know lecturers earned that much.” You added, then shot yourself a mental slap. Minho laughed quietly.

“I'm not just a lecturer, sunshine.” He said amused. “I'm involved in many things. I invest a lot in new projects and I am the main patron of an art gallery in the city center. I lecture rather out of boredom...”

“Really?” You blinked. “Wow, you're a really busy guy.”

“You don't even know how much...” Minho replied, slightly amused by your reaction. “Shall we sit down?” He suggested and went to the living room, where he set his wine glass down on the glass coffee table, then sat down on the leather couch in a gentle spread. 

You looked up at him, blushing. You were turned on by the sight of a man, and he didn't even do anything like that. You sipped your wine again, hoping that it would somehow make your cheeks return to their normal color. 

“”Come up to me.“” Said Minho suddenly, watching you and your every move like a hungry tiger. His voice was warm, yet firm. You obeyed and approached him. You stood right in front of him. Minho smiled slightly. “Sit down.” He added in the same tone, looking down at his thighs. You struggled with your thoughts for a moment, but after a moment's consideration, you sat on his lap with your arms around him. You rested one hand on his shoulder and held a wine glass in the other. “Good girl.” The man complimented you and looked into your eyes. “Tell me, what do you desire?” 

“I...” You were caught off guard by this question. You didn't know what to do. Minho's voice worked on you like a magnet. His tone hypnotized you to the point that all you wanted was to follow his instructions. 

“You?” He asked, slightly impatient. His hands landed on your hips. With his thumbs, he gently rolled circles on your skin. His brown eyes scowled at you with their gaze. 

“I want you.” You said quietly, barely audible. But he heard. He smiled slightly and leaned in gently, causing a slight friction between your bodies. His one hand slid under your shirt. 

“You already have me.” He whispered in your ear, biting lightly on its lobe. Then he moved his lips over your jaw and slid down to your neck. He glided along your neck slowly. His velvety lips barely touched your skin, thus making you red hot. You let out a quiet moan when he encountered the most sensitive spot on your neck. The grip on your body strengthened slightly, and Minho bit the spot that caused you to make such a sweet sound to his ears. He sucked your skin, and you moaned again, a little louder this time, squeezing his shoulder with your hand.

After a short while, Minho moved away from your neck, but continued to hold you tightly. He smiled slightly, admiring the red mark that had begun to form on your skin. He marked you. You looked at him, with slightly misty eyes. 

“”Will you stay the night?” He asked suddenly, seemingly carelessly. 

“I don't have any stuff... Plus I have class tomorrow...” You replied, not yet fully aware.

“That's okay, sunshine, I'll give you one of my shirts, although believe me, you won't need clothes today.” He replied, looking straight into your eyes. “And as for classes, I guess nothing will happen if you miss a day or two, right?”

“... Right.” You replied quietly admitting he was right. “I'll stay the night...” You added after a while with a slight smile. 

“Great!” Minho smiled.  Great... You thought. It's going to be a long night..

——————————

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim

[elspethdekarios]

Atonement

Hello fellow Solavellan sufferers!!! I've written a little fic about what I imagine goes down between Solas and Lavellan once the game is over. I'll have you know I listened to the Lost Elf Theme on repeat while writing it, if that tells you anything. Anyway, read below the cut or on AO3 here!

SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,821

! HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS !

When she stepped into the Fade, hand in hand with her love, Sulah had no preconceived notion of what to expect on the other side, nor did she spend a moment speculating about what it could possibly be. She was with Solas, after all, and there was no use in trying to predict his actions. It was funny, really—how she found him predictable and surprising all in the same. No, there was little use trying to guess where in the Fade he would lead them. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she would have ever expected this.

The pocket of the Fade they walked into was dull and gray as stone. In fact, most of it was stone. Fragments of buildings and debris floated slowly through the foggy sky above. Tendrils of winding roots grew up through cracks in the stone. There were staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and twisted, barren trees clinging to broken columns and walls. The air was so still it felt stifling in Sulah’s lungs. And Solas, downtrodden and bruised, looked like he belonged there. Like he was part of the backdrop. As if he could hear her thoughts, he spoke.

“It is a reflection of what I am. What I don't want to be.” He paused, dropping his head. “What I don't want to face.”

“This is how you atone?”

“I told you it would be terrible.”

“And I told you forever.” Sulah turned to him, heart aching for the bloodied mess of his face. “I meant it.”

Solas lifted his head enough to look at her through glassy, violet eyes. “I don’t deserve you, vhenan.”

“I think that’s up to me,” she said, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. “Let’s talk, my love. Before you start making your amends.”

They sat with their backs against a nearby stone wall. Solas’s eyes alternated between being heavy with sleep and haunting despair. He looked so much older than she remembered him—not physically, really, but in the way he seemed to be held down with millennia of burden. On the other hand, he had the heartbreaking demeanor of a child unable to emotionally grasp the multitude of his feelings.

“I don’t know… where to start,” he breathed. With one look at her, a hint of hope glimmered amongst the sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you. Desperately so.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Sulah’s voice cracked as she spoke, a stream of tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and smiled sadly. “So let’s start there, shall we?”

His kiss tasted of salt and metal. She didn’t care about the wounds on his face or the small gash on his lip still swelling with blood. It had been a decade since she tasted him, touched him, spoke to him. Even though she knew he visited in her dreams, he never made contact—only watched, a dark figure in the distance. How she longed to reach out for him every time, to pull him close and find solace in his arms like she used to. Sulah crawled in front of him, her knees aching as they pressed into the cold stone, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a brief hesitation, Solas rested his hands on her waist, his touch timid at first, like he was afraid of doing something wrong. But his touch grew more confident by the second, and soon his arms were wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been restored, held in place by molten gold.

“I don’t know that I can possibly tell you all of it. Perhaps I could… show you, instead.” With a single thought, Solas willed into the Fade a blue crystal statuette of a wolf, not unlike the one Sulah found when his ritual failed. He held it, concentrated on it, and its core radiated bright blue magic. He held the figure out to her. As Sulah took it from him, their destitute surroundings swirled and dissolved, leaving her in front of a young Solas. His face was not quite so worn with pain and exhaustion like the one she knew. Long, auburn hair cascaded down the center of his head, falling over his shoulder as he turned to face the other elf in front of him.

“Solas, how could you?” the other elf asked. His skin was tan, his hair was dark, and his face was marked with Mythal’s branching vallaslin. The same branches that Sulah had tattooed underneath her eyes.

“I do not expect you to understand, Felassan,” Solas said, standing tall and proud as ever. “It was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.”

“You knowingly sent those spirits to their deaths!” Felassan shouted. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

Felassan spoke to Solas with the intimacy and confidence of a close friend, unafraid to confront his wrongdoings. Sulah could make out a hint of remorse in Solas’s eyes before his face hardened into a scowl.

“I did what had to be done.”

The scene dissipated. Ruins were replaced with the glorious landscape of ancient Arlathan, sprawling greenery among grand, floating palaces. Solas argued with an elven woman who Sulah now recognized as Mythal. She was identical to the spirit fragment she had seen before stepping into the Fade with Solas, only solid and real. The words they spoke were jumbled, as if Solas couldn’t remember the exact things said when he transferred the memory to the statue, but Sulah knew what they were discussing all the same: the Blight. Solas protested, pleaded with Mythal, before finally giving in to her demands.

“I will follow you always,” he said. Sulah had never heard him sound so defeated. A distinct and overwhelming sense of shame settled over her as the scene faded.

The memories continued like this, one after the other, each one brief but enough to show her the actions that haunted him. And enough to leave her with thousands of questions. She saw his regrets from centuries ago—memories of Mythal, Elgern’an, Ghilan’nain, the other Evanuris. She saw him destroy the legacy of the titans, and the corruption that introduced the Blight to the world. She saw his sorrow at the creation of the Veil, the loss of the world he knew, the unbreakable tether he had to Mythal, similar to a commandeering mother and a child eager to please her, desperate for her approval. She saw his plans to give Corypheus the orb go awry, the conflict raging inside of him as he fell in love with Sulah, the way he almost told her the truth that night in Crestwood. She felt the guilt he carried afterwards—that he still carried. She saw him devise his devious plan to mold Rook into someone the prison would take in his place. His betrayal and desperation.

She saw the despair in his eyes when he killed Varric.

Sulah stood on the raised platform where Solas orchestrated his ritual, watching as Varric climbed the stairs in an attempt to stop his friend. Even in a memory, the air was charged with powerful magic, culminating in a swirling wind that blew her hair into her face, obscuring her view. She could only make out fragments of the argument.

“You need to listen—”

“You have come a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric—”

“—able to give me a straight answer—”

“—rather than admit this is mine to solve—”

“—who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

Varric’s last statement stung like a knife. His words echoed as time slowed. Sulah felt the heavy burden of self doubt imbued in Solas’s memory as the two men locked eyes, their argument hanging in the air between them. In a chaotic flash, several things happened: Solas turned to continue the ritual, Varric attempted to pry the lyrium dagger from Solas’s hands, and the monuments of the Evanuris surrounding the ritual site began to fall. Somewhere in the chaos, while wrenching the dagger back from Varric’s grasp, the blade pierced through his chest. The sound of ripping flesh. The gasp from Varric’s mouth.

“NO!” Sulah shouted. Time had slowed, and she rushed to catch him as he stumbled, forgetting that it was no use. Her arms moved through him like a ghost.

Solas watched his friend fall to the bottom of the stairs, regret bubbling up inside of him at what he’d done. And still, the sense of doubt from Varric’s words lingered, sullying Solas’s certainty as innocent blood seeped through the fabric of his gloves.

He steeled himself with cold resolve and turned away.

The gray of the Fade prison came back into view. Sulah felt like she had been in Solas’s memories for hours, but neither her body nor his had moved from the ground against the wall. He watched her with bated breath, his jaw clenched, eyes glossy with fresh tears. Moments ago, she watched him command a rebellion, steadfast and resolute and proud. A powerful god among mortals. But the Solas in front of her now held little of the immense ancient spirit she’d seen. He was only a man, broken from the weight of his regrets.

“I cannot ask for your forgiveness, vhenan. Not even your understanding.” His voice broke, his next words spoken through a sob. “I am so sorry that I let you fall in love with a monster.”

Solas hugged his knees to his chest. His hands shook and his body trembled as he cried. It was pure, raw, searing emotion—and it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control of himself. Sulah had been lonely for years, yearning for the man who felt like home while sleeping cold in an empty bed, but she’d never felt as alone as she felt now, sitting in the vast emptiness of the Fade with a god shedding centuries’ worth of repressed agony that she could never possibly comprehend. He was the one who always seemed to know what to do, who had a plan for everything. He was the one more familiar with the Fade than the waking world. But he was also the one who had to face his regrets. His pain. And he had already proven that he couldn’t do that on his own.

“Solas,” she said, quiet and sad. “You killed Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked through tears.

“I… I knew he was gone, but no one…” she trailed off, thinking back to the letter she received from Morrigan shortly after she met Rook and the others. Varric was gravely injured in an altercation. He did not make it. I am sorry you have to find out this way. “No one told me it was by your hand.”

“They were protecting you,” he said. “From the truth of what I am. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done so.”

Sulah sat in silence, trying to piece it all together in her mind.

“I never meant to hurt Varric,” Solas whispered. “I have harmed so many people, innocent people, and Varric… Varric….”

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall on his armor.

“My love—”

“How can you possibly still love me, Sulah?” he snapped, a wolf showing his fangs. “I deserve whatever cruel fate awaits me here. You do not.”

“Solas—”

“Would you truly—”

“Let me speak,” she said, stern and commanding. Her Inquisitor voice, the other members liked to call it. It worked. Solas nodded for her to continue. “To heal from your past, you have to confront it. It will be painful, but you must. Tell me about Varric.”

Solas sighed and let his head fall back to the wall, the apex of his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Varric was a good man. He was my friend.” He closed his eyes and Sulah watched as a single tear ran down his bloodied face. She tried to hold back her own tears, but they streamed warm down her cheeks nonetheless.

“What would you say to him if he were here?”

“That it is one of my greatest regrets, one that I desperately wish I could take back. That I enjoyed his company on our journey years ago, and that I have missed him in the years since. And that I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Like a prayer, the final words escaped Solas’s mouth in a despondent whisper. In the distance, a structure resembling the skyline of Kirkwall crumbled. Sulah recognized it from her visit several years ago. She had only made it to Kirkwall once in the time that Varric was viscount, a position he reluctantly accepted, but one that she always suspected he secretly enjoyed. He took her to the cliffs of Sundermount, where Dalish sometimes set up camp. It looked remarkably like the area of the Free Marches her clan frequented before she left.

“I thought it might remind you of home”, he had said.

“I came here to see* your *home, Varric.”

“We’re doing that too.” he pointed across the water to the silhouetted, square buildings.

She smiled at the memory and let herself cry as the Kirkwall replica became an avalanche of stone plummeting into the abyss. When its final, broken pieces fell, Solas turned back to her and took a long breath. She looked at him, attempting to reconcile the Solas she knew and loved, the Solas in front of her now, with the Solas she saw in his memories. There was a cruel pride deep inside of him, one he tried to keep from her for so long. She could see it now, and it was fractured.

How could she possibly come to terms with all he had done? He had taken Varric away from this world, a man who, despite his faults, brought hope and friendship and humor into the world around him. She could feel the empty, aching shells of all the hearts who missed him—including her own. There were more adventures to be had, more books to be written, and Solas took it away. Away from Varric, away from the world. Sulah couldn’t bring herself to consider the even larger things he had done. The man she loved was responsible for the Blight. He tranquilized the Titans. He murdered his friends—sometimes on accident, sometimes for what he considered betrayal.

Sulah steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the air flowing in and out of her lungs. She let the world fall away until she could feel nothing but the essence of her soul spreading into her limbs, making her weightless. If Solas was a spirit of wisdom, what was she, deep down? A word stirred somewhere in the depths of her heart: patience.

“This is going to take a long time, vhenan.” Solas’s words roused her from contemplation.

“Yes,” she said. “For both of us, I think.”

For the first time since reuniting, he touched her of his own accord, studying her prosthetic arm with gentle fingers before resting his hand on her thigh beside it.

“It’s a good thing time doesn’t exist in the Fade, then.” Sulah placed her remaining hand on top of his. “To answer your earlier question, I choose to still love you despite your mistakes, Solas. I love you because I tried to move on, to meet other people, but none of them could touch whatever piece of my soul that you do. Every person I tried to give my heart to was a flimsy bandage over a gaping wound. And I had to reconcile with myself that I love someone who would tear the world apart for his own stubborn pride. I know your heart, Solas. You are more than your mistakes.”

Sulah felt as if a small part of the rift between them had stitched itself back together; a fragile scar translucent and deep, but healing nonetheless. For a moment, the insurmountable hurdles she would have to help him overcome fell away. It was just the two of them, together in the Fade like all those years ago. She knew how the world would see them: the lovestruck Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf. The cautionary tale of a Dalish girl who fell right into the jaws of Fen’Harel himself.

“Sulah,” Solas reached for her face with both hands, holding her like he had to be sure she wasn’t a mere reflection of his desire. “As long as you will have me, I swear to you: I will never abandon you again. You will have me, always.”

His kiss was soft, but charged with intention. Devotion. As they broke apart, he pulled Sulah into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Bellanaris.”

[jabberwocky-warrior]

Silver and lilia angst

[general lifespan angst/ hurt-comfort] [Diasomnia Chapter Spoilers] [The end is kinda rushed] [Sebek and Malleus mentioned] [not edited] (lrt I was literally coming on tumblr to post this and saw this post that touches on the same thing)

Lilia is 700 and lets say he has a good 100yrs left in his life. He would still outlive silver.

To make it more angsty, lilia doesnt realize he will outlive him. he's thinking like a fae; 100 years is a short time to them. he hates the idea of his boys watching him slowly get weaker as his age catches up to him. He doesn't want his boys to see the man they admire for his strength lose said strength.

Silver already knows his family will outlive him. Not to say, he's accepted it but he knows it. He knows malleus will look the same while he is old and gray. He knows Sebek will still be standing guard for Malleus when he's retired. Silver knew these things like they were facts. But when it came to Lilia Silver wasn't sure.

Silver played with the idea of many different futures with his father.

Would his father take care of him? Would they live in their little cottage together like they do know? Sitting around the fireplace, with his father reminiscing about the past. Walking around the small path in the forest, the same route he's walked since he was little. Would they sit together on that old bench his dad made when he was little to watch the birds together?

That day at the dorm when Lilia said he was leaving, silver didn't think about it much. His father had gone on trips throughout his life and had always come back.

It wasn't until Lilia talked about losing his magic that Silver realized his father wasn't planning to come back. Though he would never say it out loud, he was angry. His father was leaving him. Leaving him before he graduated. Before he was knighted.

Malleus takes it worse. Overbloting before Silver can sit in his anger anymore. Silver fights. Fights for his family. For his father. And for his surrogate brother.

When all is said and done, Malleus is returned to normal. Lilia and Mallues have a heart-to-heart. But when they turn and look at silver, he breaks. He hides nothing.

Sebek isn't surprised by the lifespan. He's known Silver would pass before him since they began training together. But Malleus and Lilia are. They look at him wide-eyed at the realization Lilia would outlive him.

Malleus seems to go through a few stages of grief. But Lilia looks numb. His eyes are far away. Lilia's plan was to travel the world but to return when he got closer to the end. He knows what it's like to not have a body to bury. He never wanted to put Malleus and Silver through that.

But now as he looks at his beautiful son that helped him heal from his past. The son he learned how to clean a baby bottle for. His baby boy would have been dead or dying by the time he came back. He was so caught up in not wanting his sons to see him get weaker, he never stopped to think about what he would miss while gone.

He already knew he'd miss his graduation and his knighting. but he never thought about Silver's first love and first heartbreak. If Silver had a wedding or a child.

In that small moment, everything he would miss came flashing through his head.

Shaking his head and grabbing Silver's arm, Lilia pulled his son into his embrace. Neither of them say anything as they hold each other. Slowly they moved to the ground still holding each other. Lilia pulled Malleus down to join them. Sebek was pulled into the embrace soon after.

If Silver started crying no one mentioned it. If they all stayed on the floor holding each other for a few hours, no one mentioned that either.

~~~

In the end, Lilia stuck around. He still went traveling but only for a week to months at a time. A better deal than him disappearing for years at a time.

[rjthirsty]

Bound Forever

Gilbert/Reader Roderic/Reader

Words: 2k

CW: Major Character Death. Angst. Tragedy. Grief. Smut. Route Spoilers.

A/N: @scummy-writes did a piece on Gilbert dying called Normalcy Bias that inspired this piece. We've spoken at length about our Gil headcanons, and I admire her as a writer, so I wanted to give myself a chance to mimic the depth of emotion I read in her works. I'm honestly hoping to cause some tears with this.

Gilbert had disappeared again.

It was always terrifying when he vanished, because you knew the only reason he had for leaving without saying a word - he was unwell. Like a wounded or sick animal, Gil removed himself from the palace to find a place he could rest until either he felt better or he perished. Thankfully he had always returned, but you still hated every time he left, feeling helpless and worried sick that you might not see him again.

Walter knew before you did. He always knew when Gil left, but he wasn't allowed to say anything. That, in itself, was a giveaway on why you couldn't find your husband. Just looking at Walter these days answered the question for you since you had danced this routine enough times to know when Gil had told him to keep things from you. Today, Walter refused to make eye contact with you when you visited his office in the medical ward, pretending like he didn't see you enter. You didn't even need to ask. That was enough.

Roderic knew, though he didn't know where Gil ran off to, or even if it was the same location each time. Walter was likely the only one who truly knew where Gil was. Roderic was painfully aware whenever Gilbert disappeared, scared that his master - his friend - would never return. Since you became a part of their lives, Roderic would stay with you on those long days that Gil vanished and the two of you would hold hands and try to keep each other's minds off the possibility. Neither of you wanted to voice that possibility.

As night fell, the black castle felt darker and more hollow without Gilbert's presence. Alone in your shared room, you restlessly waited for your husband's return. Some absences would span a few days, some only a few hours. Today turned to tomorrow, and a sleepless night passed you by with still no word from him.

Another day with Roderic for company. Another attempt to keep your thoughts from spiraling to the worst case. Perhaps baking would help. Gil could return to an abundance of sweets and maybe, just maybe he'll understand how hard it is for you when he goes off like this.

Another dusk leaving you alone with your fears for company in your shared room. Another sleepless night. Another morning that looks more gray than the previous. Three days was the longest he had ever spent away. It had only been two. There was still hope he would return, though that hope was a candle in the fury of a storm right now, barely keeping lit.

“You need to sleep.” Walter scolded.

“I want to see him as soon as he comes home.” It was a silly reason to keep yourself from sleeping, but even if you attempted to rest, you'd be haunted by the thought of him dying somewhere alone. He was alone right now. Alone and sick.

“I'll wake you when he gets back.” Roderic offered.

You're tired. A short rest would be good for you, but… “I'm scared.”

The tears start falling as you hug yourself. Walter looks away, cursing Gilbert for putting you through this. Roderic watches you, unable to offer any assurances. He's scared, too.

Laying on the large bed you share with your husband, it feels so cold and empty. The sunshine doesn't touch here even with the curtains opened. Your pillow is wet from your tears. You can't seem to quell them.

“I'll be right outside,” Roderic promises.

What good would that do? You're still alone in this large room. Exhaustion weighs your eyelids down until you fall into darkness.

You wake into darkness. The large windows are filled with the night sky. The room has no candles nor lamps lit. A shadow stands near the bed, far enough that his presence is hidden but the dull, midnight light from the sky beyond the windows outlines his form. His black hair shines like obsidian and you draw in a sharp breath.

“Gil?” You whisper his name, fearful that the slightest noise would wake you from this dream and he would fade away like an apparition.

He doesn't answer. He's not really there. Again tears well in your eyes and stream down your cheeks.

“Don't cry, Little Rabbit.” He steps towards the bed, out of the shadows. “Did you miss me that much?”

His red eye gleams from the starlight. His smile is perfectly placed. Now that he's closer you can see the layers he's wearing, still in his cloak, he must have just arrived. You glance towards the door, wondering why Roderic didn't wake you. The closed door gives no answers, though it is clearly late so perhaps he went to bed.

Throwing the blankets off, you jump out of bed and run to your love. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle into his chest and the tears come faster. “Yes, I missed you that much!”

Shakily drawing in breaths between your outpouring of feelings and the sobs you try to swallow down, you continue as you cling to him. “Everytime you leave like that I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again! It's been three days! I thought the worst and I couldn't sleep and you can't keep doing this to me!”

Slowly, Gil's arms wrap and you. Gently, he rubs circles on your back to soothe you. He leans down to softly drop a warm kiss to your forehead. He has no words to comfort you. He makes no promises. He never does.

“That was the last time.”

Except, this time he does.

He's warm in your arms.

You draw back as the horrible realization hits you. Looking up into his single red eye that holds more emotions than Gil ever expressed, you take a step backwards. Shaking your head as if it would do any good to convince yourself this wasn't happening, you back up another step.

“No no no. No. Please. No!” A third step has you stumbling into the bed, falling onto it. You can't even feel your legs anymore.

The man posing as Gilbert slowly came closer. The man who hadn't woke you on your husband's return, because he had never returned. Roderic delicately cups your jaw. Warm hands. He wipes your tears, even as new ones fall. Warm fingers. He speaks in such a sweet voice. A voice you love. “It's alright, Little Rabbit. You won't have to miss me ever again.”

Grief so deep you never thought possible drowns your heart and sobs wrack you. Warm lips kiss your eyes as your pain pours out.

Somehow he was on the bed next to you and you fall against his shoulder. Warm arms hold you close.

He murmurs words of affection and hushes soothing encouragement. And when your sobs finally die down to hiccups and gasps and shuddering breaths, you find a handkerchief already in hand to help clean your face. He guides you through the movements you are too numb to manage on your own.

His lips touch the corner of your mouth. Dazed, you turn towards him and your husband's face looks so forlorn. Fingers touch below your chin, lifting it for lips once again to touch yours. So soft. A slow blink from you and you find your voice.

“Roderic–”

“Gil.” He corrects, and the offer is so tempting.

You knew this was always the plan. You hoped it would be a long time from now, and you had pushed it from your mind. But the time has come and now… it would be so easy to close your eyes and pretend it was all a bad dream.

“Gil.” You repeat, your eyelids falling close.

“That's right, Little Rabbit.”

It's his voice that gusts across your lips. 

A nibble on your bottom lip and a longing sigh rises from your throat. It's his teeth that catches you, so familiar in pain and pleasure.

His tongue touches yours and you can almost believe that he's still there with you. Your mouths move together, chasing the memory of the man you love through clumsy movements that aren't quite right.

It hurts so much. Your chest aches and head throbs and you just want to forget. 

Fingers find clasps, and pull ties, and brush clothing from both of your bodies. Were they yours or his? Does it matter?

Teeth sink into flesh and tongue soothes the pain and your body responds to the training you've endured to appreciate the way his love feels on you. Marks blossom on your skin from his mouth that burns too hot.

Your eyes burn, tears forming between eyelids squeezed tight.

Your chest burns, bleeding out from the inside.

Your groin burns, desire whispering sweetly that if you just let go it'll be alright.

Think of him.

Think of him.

It hurts so, so much.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. His fingers push inside of you. You cry out his name as he rubs along your inner walls, exploring you for the first time, finding the places that cause you to buck into his hand and whimper and moan.

He learns quickly. He has always known.

New overlaps with old as your husband touches on memories from times before. Building that sweet ache in the pit of your belly. Causing your cunt to throb and drip making lewd sounds that your lusty moans overshadow.

You're on your back and he's over you. When did you lie down? He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper in frustration. You were so close to covering the hurt in your heart with the pleasure of climax and he snatched it away.

He's gone.

A single sob breaks between your gasping breaths. Tears brim again between your closed eyelids. They fall hot, so hot down the sides of your face. You're empty. Alone.

His cock touches your wet folds and you crack your eyes to see your lover with damp lashes. He looks away and buries his face in your neck as he buries his cock inside of you. Your back arches and thighs cling to his hips, as he clings to you with strong arms and roaming hands.

He pumps into you and you can't help but rock with him to squeeze and drag and churn his dick inside of you. Fingers digging into his back. Nails biting skin. He gasps and whimpers and moans near your ear. You love to hear him. His teeth dig into you. It hurts so good.

You're not alone. Your voice grows louder. He's relentless. Pounding your sex and knocking every moan out of you. Biting you again, and again, and again. Your cunt clenching tight as the pressure in your pelvis reaches a tipping point.

His thrusts turn too eager. His rhythm lopes out of pace. But you're so, so close! Please! Just– “Ah! Gil!” His hot hands grip your hips and he slams into you finding his rhythm again and he moans and heat and orgasm and shivers and spasms snap through you.

Your thoughts go blank, flooded with relief from the throbbing from before. Euphoria washes over you, wave after wave as your cunt continues to clench sending another crashing over you, then another. Gil slowed down his pumping to ride out the squeezing milking his cock. And just as you finally thought you were coming to the end of your climax, Gil thrusts deeper, his pelvis flush against yours, trying to push further still as he spills his seed into you.

You gasp. He breathes heavily on top of you. You hold him pressed against you– too hot. So hot. He's stifling. He clings to you. He needs you to smother his own pain. Pain you understand because the both of you share it. Pain neither of you can ever talk about.

He's gone. The two of you are together but his absence in this room you share with your husband is felt, as if there was a void that could never be filled. You hold each other, your hearts bleeding for the same person. Silent tears will be shed and it hurts. So. So. Much.

[alpha-trauma-novel-trans]

Chapter 92 Bystander

Garam rested her chin on the table and stared at the two empty seats. Her vision was blurry, as if she was drunk. She rubbed the backs of her eyes a couple times, but focus didn't come easily. 

“Those two will make up, right?”

Sungyu asked Garam casually. He also drank a lot, but he was the most sober among the club members. Garam tilted her head slightly and slowly opened her mouth.

“Well... I guess.”

It had been two hours since the drinking party started under the pretext of summer vacation. The remaining people were busy playing drinking games at the bar after Dohyun and Wooyeon left. Normally, Garam would have joined them, but she wasn't feeling up to it today.

"If I had followed you while you were drunk, it would have been 100% true."

“Yeah...”

Sungyu nodded and sipped at the wheat beer in his hand. It was somehow relieving, and Garam grinned, showing her teeth in a mischievous way.

“You were worried, weren't you?”

“Of course I was worried. Weren't you worried, Noona?”

"Well I... I was worried. If something went wrong between those two, Wooyeon would leave the club."

The fact that the two of them fought was known to all the club members, including Garam. The freshman who carries around the Kim Dohyun by his side, the omega who made Dohyun, who had rejected everyone, declare 'We're dating'. 

Wooyeon's attitude of chasing Dohyun around changed overnight, so it was impossible not to know.

"But I wasn't really worried. If Kim Dohyun does it, he'll do it, right?"

Garam had been confident that Dohyun would somehow resolve the situation ever since they'd entered the cold war, and while she hadn't known Dohyun long, after two years or so together, she was pretty sure he would.

She just didn't think he'd be so easily swayed.

"Wooyeon is amazing, too. Making Kim Dohyun feel awkward."

“Wow, Dohyun is amazing. When I saw that they were taking classes together as freshmen, I thought, "How great must it be for them to do that?"

Though she didn't say it, Garam agreed. She had realized a while ago how much Dohyun loved Wooyeon.

It was about a few months ago, on the day she first saw him.

'Everything he's wearing is designer.'

Garam, who is naturally very interested in clothes and fashion, couldn't help but look him up and down as soon as she saw him. That's because the clothes Wooyeon was wearing at the time were from luxury brands that Garam was familiar with. From the light gray puffer, to the thick sweater, to the sneakers, to even the jeans.

At least a studio apartment deposit, maybe more.

'Did you come in after laying down grass?'

Garam had prejudice against guys from wealthy families. She'd gotten better about it over the course of her time with Dohyun, but her first impression of Wooyeon hadn't been a pleasant. She even thought to herself that she shouldn’t get involved with him.

But that thought was short-lived. The moment Wooyeon turned his head toward Garam, her feelings of dislike quickly turned to fondness.

'...Oppa, what's his name?'

Every single feature was a strike zone. For Garam, a lover of small, pale people, Wooyeon was her ideal type.

Of course, that didn’t mean she wanted to do anything to him.

'I heard about it from the TA Oppa, and he has a pretty name.'

Garam just wanted to get him to join the club. She also thought that she could buy tteokbokki every day if she had a junior like that, so she brought it up to Dohyun. Of course, she didn’t think that Dohyun would react so dramatically when he heard his name.

'It's Wooyeon, Seon Woooyeon.'

'....'

Dohyun immediately ran to where Wooyeon had disappeared. Looking at the back of his figure that anyone could tell had a story, Garam secretly realized. 'Ah, this time it happened again.' It was a truly cunning sentiment, even though she said she had no selfish intentions.

"I guess the two of you knew each other before."

“Come to think of it, Wooyeon called him Seonsaeng-nim back then, didn't he?”

What kind of relationship do they have that makes him able to sway 'that' Kim Dohyun so much? With good intuition, there was only one possible guess. The fact that the private tutor Dohyun mentioned last time was none other than Wooyeon.

"...Then he isn't a total thief?"

Garam had seen people flirting with Dohyun quite often, picking up his number on the street or at festivals. She knew that while he was strict at school, he dated freely outside of it.

So Garam was a little surprised when he showed overconfidence for Wooyeon. She wondered if this guy was just playing around with a freshman who didn't know anything. It seemed like there was something between them, but she didn't want to lose the junior she liked because of some random romance.

'Why are you flirting with Wooyeon?'

To be honest, the fact that she'd lost several Omegas to Dohyun in the past also played a part. It was a strange twist of fate that most of the people Garam had crushes on had crushes on Dohyun.

Of course, even so, her feelings for Wooyeon were genuine.

'If you're not being sincere, then leave him alone. I want to see Wooyeon for a long time.'

Garam was very affectionate, and Wooyeon was the one who kept catching her eye. He didn't have the arrogance that's typical of rich people, and sometimes he was as innocent as a child. If she didn't worry about Wooyeon, it would be even stranger.

'...He thinks my smile is fake.'

Until she heard that, Garam thought it was some kind of bullshit, but the next time she opened her mouth, it felt like a slap in the back of the head. 

'I want to know how long he'll think that.'

It wasn't the words that mattered, it was the look on his face, the way he said them, the way his eyes slid down his face in a gentle smile that made even the most selfless Garam's heart skip a beat.

'Hey, you...'

She interfered simply because she thought it was just a curiosity. As someone who loves the club, as a senior who cares about a junior, as a friend who is worried about him, those were the words she blurted out. But what if Dohyun really meant it?

'If I do this...he'll probably realize what I like.'

That was when Garam started to ignore Dohyun and Wooyeon's relationship. Instead of stepping in and helping like Sungyu, she just watched from afar.

If she thought about it, there were many hints that showed that he liked Wooyeon. He always sat next to Wooyeon at drinking parties, and whenever Wooyeon ate something, his expression softened into an infinitely cute face.

"Well...he's definitely met the one."

Perhaps Wooyeon still didn't know. That Dohyun furrowed his brow whenever he called Garam Noona, that he stared out the window at the café he'd visited to study, unable to sit down like a puppy that needed to poop.

The fact that a guy who hated being bothered helped him register for classes, stayed up all night to guard the living room during their M.T., and held back on smoking whenever he was with Wooyeon were all extensions of those feelings.

“Now that I think about it, this kid did the study group because of Wooyeon.”

Kim Dohyun is also very smart yet he volunteered first and they started studying together. 

From the beginning, it seems that the study was just a forced excuse to meet Wooyeon.

“Ugh, I'm going to smoke a cigarette.”

Garam rummaged in her pockets and stood up. She asked Sungyu if he wanted to come with her, but he shook his head, saying he was getting drunk. How sweet is the cigarette when you are drunk, Kwon Sungyu didn't know the world.

But maybe she picked the wrong time, the smoking room was quite crowded. Garam hesitated for a moment, then turned to walk outside the bar. She didn't mind her own cigarettes, but she didn't want to inhale other people's smoke.

The night air was still cool, and a humid breeze blew outside, foreshadowing the coming rainy season. Garam took a deep drag from her freshly lit cigarette and looked up at the sky. After all, you should smoke in an open space. As she thought this, she heard a voice from somewhere.

"It's time for you to dye your hair."

"I'm already thinking about it. I'm thinking about just covering it up with black..."

Even though she'd had a few drinks, it wasn't hard to recognize the voices. One was Kim Dohyun, the other was Seon Wooyeon. They're peacefully discussing hair dye. Garam snorted and put the lighter in her hand back into the cigarette case.

"Should we go on a trip during the vacation?"

“Where?”

"Well, a light trip around the country would be fine. We can just take my car."

Did they make up? She thought to herself. Looking at the way they were planning their trip, it was clear that they had reconciled. After so much time had passed, it was time for Wooyeon to go easy on Dohyun. She felt relieved, but also a little bit empty.

"I have a driver's license, too."

“You can't use that in Korea.”

“...Why?”

Garam snickered as she heard a voice that sounded quite wronged. She wanted to walk over and talk to him, but he was in a good mood and she didn't want to disturb them. But if she pretended not to notice and smoked, the smell would waft over there. Her drunken brain was too slow to organize her thoughts. 

"Yeah, your pheromones are all over my shirt."

“Really? I washed it.”

“Yeah, I know...I guess it just stayed on.”

That's why he felt strange, and that he wouldn't be able to wear it anymore because it was a waste. This was followed by a series of words full of false accusations.

She didn’t know about anything else, but Garam agreed that Wooyeon’s pheromones were really good. It is dominant, but his fresh and sweet scent is unrivaled compared to other omegas.

“The rainy season starts next week.”

“...Yeah, it's about time.”

Garam tied her hair high with a cigarette in her mouth. Her hair was long enough to reach under her shoulder blades. She should just cut all this hair off or something. It’s already grown this much because she was too lazy to grow it out.

“Wooyeon.”

“What?”

“Wooyeon.”

“....”

“Yeon-ah.”

“...Why do you keep calling me that?”

"Just because I like it."

‘Kim Dohyun is totally crazy.’

Garam, her hair neatly tied up, turned around without regret. 

In the two years she'd been with Dohyun, she'd never seen him so happy. If she smoked in this place, she'd lose her appetite.

'I should go inside and smoke.'

Well, she didn't feel bad about it. Although she didn't do anything to help, she felt a strange sense of pride. She thought it would be perfect if she quickly told Sungyu about this news and smoked a cigarette in the smoking room.

“Ah...I want to be in a relationship.”

The words slipped out of her mouth. Garam let it out like a lament and stumbled into the bar. The sky was high, her heart was heavy, and her unlit cigarette filter was bitter today.

next chapter

[invisibleraven]

13. I would believe you're fine but you've got a Goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so. - I mean this could work for SO many of them. I'm going with Alex or Luke speaking. You can choose who they are speaking to.

"We're broke," Luke declared. "And in a like, we will starve and/or get kicked out if we don't get money soon kind of way."

"Weather is too shit to go busking," Alex commented, eyes trained on the gray sky. "And we don't have any gigs for a few weeks."

"We could always get jobs?" Reggie suggested. The other two glared at him. "I know, but it's that or go back to living in Bobby's unheated garage for the winter."

Luke and Alex shivered at the thought-yes, Bobby had been fine with them squatting, but there wasn't much he could do about their studio space having no heat. A space heater for practices was viable, but not all the time, not with the three of them being 'walking disasters who would be liable to catch the place on fire' if he left it there.

So they had found their own place-it was small, and shitty, but it had heat, was pretty cheap, and that's what mattered. Keeping it had to become their priority.

Luke went to the diner that had hired him under the table when he first ran away, and even though he wanted to light the paper hat on fire, it wasn't a terrible job, plus the owner let him eat for free. Alex went to the laundromat-a boring job, but it meant they could do their clothes on his shifts without worrying about them being stolen (again) or having all of Alex's whites turn pink (since that could only happen once right?)

Reggie went all around, but given he wasn't 18 yet, there weren't a lot of places that would hire him-or take the fake he offered in the light of day. To be fair, it was a really bad fake. But the guy who ran the shady convenience store either had shit vision, or was desperate, because he gave Reggie a job on the spot-working overnights.

"Shit, be careful newbie," the guy training him in stated. "This place gets robbed like, twice a week during overnights."

"Great," Reggie said. "Just great."

"It's cool, just hand over what's in the till, call the cops, then Joe, and we'll deal with it in the morning."

Reggie grimaced but nodded-he knew it was a rough neighbourhood, and times were tough, but he still didn't relish the thought of being held up with regular occurrence. He also knew if he told the guys they would tell him to quit, and he really didn't want to have to resort to doing janitorial work.

So Reggie went to work every night, usually pretty bored as he sold the odd pack of cigarettes, lotto tickets, or snacks. He got a lot of reading done, which was good, because working nights meant he had to sleep during the day and not doing the coursework he needed to finish to get his GED.

He also worked on songs, D&D campaigns, and made plans for the upcoming Ren Faire. He was looking forward to it-even if Alex and Luke thought it was lame, he loved getting to dress up like a knight and play the lute and eat giant turkey legs.

The only thing was that he had to train wearing the chain mail again-it was heavy and harder to move in than his usual garb of a leather jacket. This he started wearing it under his work uniform, getting used to the weight as he stocked the shelves and served the odd customer.

This of course, is when his luck ran out.

Up until this point he had only been held up a couple times, usually by someone who looked pretty rough, and Reggie just opened up the cash and waited a few minutes to call the cops. They never got much, and at this point, he didn't think the authorities were doing much to get the paltry sum back.

Tonight, however, was different. The guy had a knife for one-most of the rest of them just threatened with words, or the lame pointed finger miming a gun in their pocket. He looked a little out of it for two-eyes wide and unfocused, his speech off just a bit. "Gimme the money."

"Okay buddy," Reggie said. He turned to get the key to the register-they were too old to even have a button to open them without a purchase. He felt a thump on his back, but didn't think of it, he was used to having things thrown at him, it didn't even faze him any more.

Only when he turned, the robber was looking at him like he was a ghost, stammering as he ran out, cash in hand. Reggie sighed, calling the cops and Joe, hoping they found the guy, or at the very least, took the knife from him.

"Hey Reg!" Alex said as he came in, Luke trailing behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Insomnia," Luke replied.

"And he woke me up as a result," Alex grumbled good naturedly. Since they only had one big bed, if one of them wasn't sleeping, none of them were. "Figured we could come here and bug you. Get some snacks."

Reggie shook his head, waving them on, knowing what they would get; you learned people's vices after knowing them most of your life. Luke would go for something spicy, with a sour candy to go with it. Alex would get something in a flavour no one should like, plus a chocolate bar that would certainly upset his stomach in a few hours, though he always claimed it was worth it.

Reggie went back to stocking the shelves behind him, waiting for the guys to bring their snacks up.

"Reg?" Alex's voice was high and wavering. "You okay bud?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," Reggie replied. "Why?"

"I would believe you're fine but you've got a goddamn knife sticking out of your back, so."

"Oh, do I?" Reggie replied, reaching back and hitting the handle of the blade, taking it out, finding the tip was bent. "Well at least that dude doesn't have it-whatever he was on was powerful shit."

"Reggie did you not notice you got fucking stabbed?" Luke asked.

Reggie lifted his shirt, showing off the chain mail. "Doubt it even left a scratch."

"I don't even want to know," Alex said with a shake of his head. "You should call the cops."

"I did that when he tried to hold the place up," Reggie replied, "Though I doubt they'll come it happens so often."

Alex glared at him. "What do you mean."

Reggie shrunk then sighed. "This place gets held up a lot. Though this is the first time they've had a weapon,"

Luke came behind the counter, lifting the chain mail, seeing there was no mark. "You got lucky dude. Next time..."

"I know," Reggie whispered.

"You need another job," Alex stated. "One where there is zero chance you'll get stabbed. Again."

"You find me one that will let me work underage," Reggie replied. "Now do you want my employee discount or not?"

"Yes please."

"I don't think we should leave you here alone," Luke said as he rang up their purchases.

"I'll be fine. It's only a few hours and I'll be home."

"We could send Bobby over," Alex replied.

"God no, he'll fuss worse than you two," Reggie stated. "Plus you know he will be worried about lola being alone the whole time." Heck that was the reason he hadn't joined them in the shitty apartment, even though he had wanted to. "Go home, get some sleep, and have waffles waiting for me."

"Can do," Luke said with a salute.

"Be safe," Alex cautioned. "See you in a few hours."

Reggie waved them off, going back to the shelves, sweeping up, and tensing every time he heard the bell over the door ring. Maybe Alex was right, he might just need a new job.

At least he knew the chain mail worked.

[dummie-writes]

the party walkers

self insert ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 4.08k

previous part: a demon inside of my skin

next part: over the horizon, somewhere

note: woah hey I'm back so soon whattt, anyway. sorry that chapter was kinda more scene setting, we only got to interact with the group at the very end 😭 also, I'd like to say this is gonna be pretty self indulgent for the time being bc idk where I want the story to go 🧍‍♀️keep in mind that while I'm trying to keep it gender neutral, at times y/n may lean more feminine,and this is because I am more feminine. please enjoy :3

ii. a rescue mission

again, there's a tension. there has been for the past minute you've been sitting here. after telling them your name and settling down cross legged on the classroom floor, you kinda expected some questions or something. that blonde kid and ashlyn are still having that weird little staring contest. it's as if everyone wants to start, but no one knows how. like you've passed a test, but they aren't sure if you'll actually pass their little assignment or whatever. you were having nightmares, and eerily, the blonde knew to ask you about them even when you hadn't said you'd been having them. so, they were also having nightmares. at least, from what you could infer. 

“um, okay,” a sandy brunette boy with glasses begins. he's not looking directly at you, but instead at your bag beside you in a spaced out manner, his thumbs tapping the wooden pencil in his hand. “nightmares, monsters, right? what kind of monsters?”

     “like, gray ones? they're kinda big? sharp hands?” you say, still somewhat confused. a robotic voice comes from next to you, and as you turn your head, the tallest of the group has his phone held up, the screen facing you. on it, in black lettering, it asks “humanish?”. you blink, and then nod at it. not much of a talker, apparently. the girl who originally spoke to you, sitting next to Tyler and who you've quickly remembered is his twin sister, though you don't remember her name from the beginning of the year, opens her mouth to speak, but then ashlyn cuts her off. 

     “well, that's weird. what notes do you have on savannah?”

     a second of slight whiplash from the subject change, everyone (except for tyler) gives the freckled girl a weird look. they hadn't expected it either, but they aren't going to interfere. she has a colder tone - not entirely mean, but like she knows how to stick to decisions that she makes. actually, you'd seen her before - this town wasn't where you grew up, but you'd been here since middle school. ashlyn always kept to herself, for what rare times you did see her. the only words that you'd really ever heard from her were “excuse me” “thanks” or just glowering. you didn't know when she got all these friends. 

     you also had friends - unfortunately, they weren't really happy with you at the moment. with the whole “several hours or so in hell” situation, you hadn't really been the greatest companion. one too many times had you had to stay home from a group putting, or just slept straight through. they had a right to be upset with you, especially when you wouldn't communicate and were crabby. 

     “again, not really my fault! what am I supposed to tell them? that I'm bleeding out in the bathroom all night?” but, you know, whatever. 

     you pulled out your notebook, reading through the few notes you had written down since the start of the group project. you wouldn't argue right now. maybe they were just weird, maybe they were all in the same boiling pot you were. either way, the six of them didn't seem open to talking about it, which means another lonely night in the bathroom for you. 

     not for them, though. as you tried to be as quiet as possible on the cold, tiled floor, and then moving to the shower so the blood from your back would trickle down the drain instead, they would have a rather rambunctious evening. 

     “tyler, seriously. if they're here too, we need to get them!”

     “that isn't a risk we should be taking!”

     ash cringed just slightly at the volume of tyler's voice, and picked at the peeling fabric of the bus seat she was in. this argument had been going on for about an hour, stopping them from any sort of progress in terms of supplies, information, or anything, really. aiden was seated in the seat across from herself, foot dangling as he rhythmically tapped the seat, smiling as he usually did. his red eyes swung back and forth between the aggressors, not saying much except for the offhand comment or joke. 

     “guys, what if it was one of us? what if it was taylor?”

     “fields, don't even think about using that kind of an argument. it's cheap, and that's my sister. not a random classmate - who, by the way, might not actually even be here! they could just be having bad dreams! but, no, i’m the crazy one, right?”

    ben shifted uncomfortably, tensing and releasing his fists. tyler was defensive, that much was for sure. truth be told, he in fact did not actually like the idea of possibility leaving you stranded somewhere. it wasn't moral. but he was right, he knew he was right. they didn't have the actual information needed, the possibile required resources, and he wouldn't put taylor in any sort of unnecessary danger like that. not when you lived almost four blocks away from where they already were. despite not saying so, ashlyn agreed almost entirely. she wouldn't lose her entire team saving one person. at the very least, not until they were positive you were actually I'm this other dimension. 

     “remind me again why we didn't just ask them if they were here?” aiden questions, his cheeks rising a little as he stared at tyler in an almost dare to reply. 

     “we won't even tell our parents what's going on. if they're just having nightmares, they'll think we're crazy or on drugs. and in that case, who knows what they'll tell the school, or the police,” ash replies in an even tone, raising an eyebrow as her eyes meet aiden's, and then to taylor as she speaks again. 

     “but it isn't right. you know it's not right. and there was that unexplained scream you heard at the hotel, ash,” taylor points out, throwing her arms out as she paces back and forth. her hair was starting to tangle from all the moment, and a stern look in her eyes told everyone this isn't something she would let go of. at least not thus far. 

     ashlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking down. a quiet pooled in the bus as the ginger thought through the possibilities and risks. taylor was right. they couldn't just leave you wherever you were to rot, possibly die. even if she wasn't a people person, she wasn't a monster. she couldn't let any phantoms hurt you or anyone else in good spirits, that would just be horrible and wrong. she knew tyler wouldn't mind getting you either, if it wasn't such a huge risk, and a major liability if you actually weren't there. 

 

   a small glow emitted from a couple feet away from her, looking up to Ben's phone screen as her hand slid to hold up her head. “we need more info”.

     logan tapped his foot tentatively, his face soft but unagreeable. he had been making a more logical argument, but was emotion driven nonetheless in his words. having another person would be an advantage. it would come with its own challenges, yes - explaining why they had another person hanging out with them to ashlyn's already suspicious parents, keeping track of an entire other human being, the extra general supplies - but having another person who wasn't a phantom on their side was also a benefit. another pair of eyes, hands, ears. more supplies could be carried. 

     not to mention, you are not just a video game character. you're an actual human being, with a life, with sentience. in the end, that's the defining factor. they can't abandon you. but they won't come looking for you without being sure you'll be there when they search. 

     “this is a stupid argument because we aren't actually arguing about saving them, but about when.” 

     taylor looks up to ash, lightening from how upset she was previously, and her shoulders beginning to drop. an unspoken understanding passes through them as everyone else mumbles something of agreement. 

     “and how the hell are we supposed to pull that off? do any of you even have their phone number? we didn't add them to any group chats because we were still in our own world when class ended,” tyler huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair, a sour expression in the creases of his face and eyebrows. 

     “I could run over there,” 

     everyone stared at Aiden for a second as he smiles in excitement before tyler thwacks him in the back of the head. not hard, but audibly. aiden’s mouth opens slightly, his smile unwavering but now wider as he scoffs in hubris.. “that's not happening, you moron.”

     that next morning is a hard one for you. for one, trying to clean that horrible slash with isopropyl alcohol isn't working. it's making things worse, in fact; the flesh around it is red and dry, it throbs when you move too much, and every so often, it'll crack further down your back because you moved too quickly. not to mention, it hurts like a bitch when you do so. not cleaning it runs the risk of infection, but honestly, you're too exhausted to care anymore. your mind is messed up, clearly. talking to a psychologist isn't an option, you'd get put in an asylum before you could finish your sentence. this was just your life now. and you would properly clean it later. 

     walking into class, you felt the jab of a finger at your back. jumping, you turn around to give a dirty look at whoever was giving you a difficult time, before realizing that it was aiden, from your group project. you take a breath and smile. “hey, how are you?”

     despite it being a very normal question that usually results in a “im fine”, aiden clark is not a normal person (to be fair, you aren't at this point either), and answers with a much more winded explanation. 

     “oh! I'm doing pretty great, haha. last night's homework wasn't all too difficult or anything, and since you're having trouble with your work, you can copy off mine if you'd like. speaking of last night, how'd you sleep? you know, with sleeping issues and everything? sorry about my friends yesterday, they can be a bit argumentative. it think it's funny lol.”

     at this point, ben, who you remember now as being introduced as aiden's cousin and is walking behind, looks at you, nodding and giving a small wave. you, in return, smile widely at him. 

     “well, aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine or something,” you hear an irritated, grumpy voice from next to you, and then a yelp, followed by “ow! don't pinch me!” and a “then be nice!”

     turning to taylor and tyler, the long haired of the two smiles in a nervous apology. “sorry, he's always kinda cranky in the morning. he didn't mean that, I swear.” as taylor tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckles softly, you notice she has a soft sparkle in her eye. that, and the fact that she has been nothing but kind to you in the entirety of the while you've interacted with th pushes her to be your favorite for the time being. 

     “it's okay, i'm not all too great for the first couple hours too. coffee helps, would you like some? do you have a cup or something?” you're being a little over-nice on purpose, mainly to make him feel bad for being a bit of an ass- but it's a genuine offer. he wasn't downright cruel, just a little mean. and the eye bags on top of his cheeks tell you that taylor wasn't lying about him not being a morning person. 

     tyler scowls, wrinkling his nose and glancing at the thermos you have on your desk. it's your favorite color, and the metal is warm with the creamy, light brown coffee inside. for a second, his face drops a little, and he looks like he's genuinely considering your offer, before rolling his eyes scoffing. “I'm good.”

     rough start for a group that hasn't entirely accepted you as part of their project, but he didn't cuss you out a throw a shoe at you, so you'll count it as a win! you don't have much time to process, because you turn your head again and jump at the bright write paper, half an inch from your face. holding it is a pale hand, and connected to that hand is aiden, wide eyed. actually, that might just be his face. you're starting to think he looks like that more than he doesn't. oh, yeah, actually, that's the homework he was talking about. you had only gotten a couple questions done last night before giving up, and trying to comfort yourself with hot chocolate before midnight arrived. 

     aiden was still looking at you expectantly, so you gingerly pinched the paper, smiling at him again as you took out your own unfinished work, and compared them side by side so you could at least not down most of them before mr. thomas got to class. as you did so, a bright yellow post-it note caught your attention, and in messy handwriting, it reads:

     “what are your nightmares about????”

     your eyebrows knit themselves, and glancing up at aiden, he's already looking at you. he turned away to talk to ben about something almost immediately, but it makes you wonder if he knows something you don't. you peel it off, filling out a few of the questions before glancing at the note again, and flipping it over to scrawl down your response of “why do you want to know so badly”. instead of a blank back, you find a phone number, which you can only theorize belongs to aiden. snatching up your phone, you pat the number in, and then hurry to finish what of the homework you can. after filling out what you think will get you a passing grade, you roll up the work and tap the blond on the shoulder with it. 

     he stops mid sentence to turn toward you, smile widely, take his homework back, and then continues talking to ben. all just as mr. thomas walks through the classroom door.

     actually, the fact that he gave you that post it note makes you giggle a little. it looks like an ad for a psychic. you nonchalantly doodle and scribble on your paper during the lecture, nearly falling asleep a couple times before you're all dismissed to sit in groups. you pause for a moment, glancing to your old group. brandy looks in your direction, smiling and standing up to walk over. oh wait what no don't -

     “hey! listen, so, about yesterday,” she whispered speedily, a note book in her right hand, tapping her pen on the cover with her left. you purse your mouth, nodding. awkward. “I'm sorry if I was being mean. I failed this class last year, and I can't repeat it again. I know that's harsh, but I'm not taking any chances.”

     a silent, uncomfortable nod and pause later, she continues. “I copied down a bunch of my notes for you, because I hope you can still pass. I'm sorry if I made you mad. I'll just, go, um, yeah.”

     a second later, you're holding a few pieces of lined paper to your chest and watching her run off and back to her group. a sinkhole opens in your chest, and you bite the inside of your cheek. would ashlyn's group be expecting you? would they talk to the teacher about getting you removed too, since they might not have wanted to fail as terribly as they already were? your eyes find their circle, where three pairs of eyes are looking to yourself, and there's a large enough gap by taylor's seat for your own. 

a soft grin presses onto your cheeks, relief emanating from you when you sigh, grabbing your chair to haul it over. at least you had a solid group for your project now, even if it was going to fall apart. and, even if your group members were a tad, let's say, bold in how long they stared at you for. not in an entirely creepy way, but in a puzzled way, like you were something to be figured out. 

     “um, he gave you his phone number, right?” logan confirmed, pushing his glasses up his nose with his index finger while he spoke. after the glint from the ceiling light left his glasses, you realized his eyes weren't entirely blue, but had a twinge of turquoise to them. or aqua. something like that, either way, they weren't a strict blue. you acknowledge his question by pulling your phone from out of your jean pocket, shaking it a little. “yep, it's all right here.”

     “good! be-”

     “we have something we should really talk about with you. a few questions.”

     “oh my fucking - you're making it sound like we're a cult.”

     “aren't we kinda?? at this point lmao??”

     “aiden, you're not helping.”

     “excuse me?” your features are slightly scrunched in both confusion and amusement - you're assuming this has something to do with the whole weird “what's in your nightmares” note, and on its own this exchange might actually kinda freak you out. but the way tyler looks like he's about to pop a vein has you beaming and nearly laughing. not to mention, aiden is just kinda, weird. a bit creepy too, but mostly weird. 

     “hey idiots, shut up! it was your guys’ decision to do it this way, and now you won't even talk with them about it properly!” tyler gives everyone a dirty look, noticeably glancing at ben and then not glaring at him. ben has a flat expression, and just glances at aiden, who is already chuckling to himself and looking back at him. 

     “ahem,” ashlyn clears her throat, pointing her eyes at you. as you turn to face her back, tyler huffs, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat, glaring daggers at you even though you. haven't actually done anything. “so, these nightmares.”

     it's interesting that she's the one to bring this all to a head, after specifically dodging the subject yesterday in class. 

     “tell me about them.”

     when she puts it like that, it feels a lot more individual. you haven't really talked a whole bunch to ashlyn banner, even when you guys have been paired together. she was sorta… floaty. 

     “well, uh, what do you want to know?” you feel stupid for asking, but they were the ones who put you on the spot. and who are also glaring down at you, mostly in a friendly way. you think, at least. it's starting to get a bit stuffy. 

     “what color are the skies?” 

     “kinda, red. typically. but I feel like that's sort of normal. for nightmares.”

     this was weird. this was so entirely strange, actually. maybe you were too sleep deprived to actually notice, but the fact that they're dissecting you like a bug isn't normal. especially when they keep sharing glances like that! 

     “okay, hold on. what's going on? I think I should get to know why you guys are trying to scoop my soul apart with your eyes or something,” you stab a dirty look at tyler, who rolls his eyes and looks away. the rest kinda lose their gaze, sights now wandering the classroom- of course, this is excepting aiden, who's still staring at you. oh well. you kinda expected that at this point. 

     ashlyn gives a low sigh, clenching her teeth together and crossing her arms. her fingers tap on her jacket, and aiden leans over to smoosh himself into her shoulder- which she seems irritated by, but doesn't do anything to push him off because he starts speaking. 

     “I don't think we're getting anywhere with guessing games guys.” his eyelids are low, and he puts his hands behind his head, crossing his legs to put them on ben's lap like he's relaxing. that's when ash gives him a hard shove with her other arm, and he lands swiftly on the floor, drawing a giggle out of taylor. “hey! I'm right! don't push me :(.”

     “I hate to say it, but we might need to be just straightforward here,��� tyler interjected, glancing at ash. “that's not a good idea, wh-”

     “hello! hi! I'm still here!” you interrupt, your palms facing upward out you wave your arms around. disbelief crosses your face, and you're about to laugh because, what the fuck? what do they know, and what are they not telling you - and why are they being so rude about it! “I would appreciate someone being straightforward with me! actually! if my opinion matters at all here!”

     “of course it matters!” taylor responds almost immediately, her shoulders dropping and her eyes becoming soft. ben stops for a second, signing “yes” in consensus. for the first time, logan speaks up, his words muddled together too quickly for you to understand for a second. 

     “yeah okay so theresthislike alternative dimensions thingandwedontactuallyknow what'sgoingonbutwould youhappentoknowhatwe're talkingabou-”

     “dude, breathe, what the fuck,” you answer, eyebrows tilted in more concern than anything else. while logan wasn't the type to talk so quickly he didn't enunciate his sentences, he didn't want to be stopped by any of the group - specifically tyler, who, surprise, you'll never guess, was glaring at him. 

    

     “... did you say alternate dimension?”

     “yeah lol.”

     “and what exactly does he mean by that?”

     “exactly what i, um, said. there's a shift, it starts at midnight, and we're there for seven hours. only seven minutes actually pass, but, uh, no one actually gets any sleep at that point.”

     that is… exactly what your little nightmare issue sounds like. 

     “the red skies, the phantoms-” who you're assuming are those demon things. “-they all match with our little, uh, nightly problem. the only thing that doesn't match up is how on earth you're there too. we know what caused us falling through - but why are you there?” logan asks, and the more he talks, especially about something he knows, the more he seems less shy. tentative, sure, but more confident in his words. it makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. 

     if he's serious about this, maybe they aren't playing some joke on you- which was already unlikely, but you've gotta cope somehow. if there are who knows how many other people in that little hell hole of an evening, then it isn't only you that you need to worry about, and you can't just hole up in the bathroom if there are others too. 

     “when did you start going?” aiden asks, poking you in the back again so you turn to him. 

     “that night at the hotel after the field trip.”

     “hmmm. anything weird happen?”

     “i mean, I went with my group. and I was kinda lagging behind and got tossed up with another group who was touring some haunted house because the lady thought I was with them.”

     “... what house?”

     “ummmm, seed house? something weird like that? ‘s’ somethi-”

     “the sorrel weed house. “

     that time, ashlyn didn't ask, but stated. it was a ghost of her usual, stronger tone. 

    

     “you must have gotten tossed up with our group.”

     the cold bathroom tile that you sat on was uncomfortable when you awoke that night, but the air was chilled with excitement. you were getting busted out. you'd have to do the more difficult part of maneuvering out of the house with what ashlyn and her group called “phantoms”, as well as trying to grab some stuff on your way out. blankets, first aid supplies, food, bags- anything you could really get your hands on. but escape was everyone's first priority. which is why your ear is pressed so hard to the cheap wooden door, and your breathing is as quiet as you can force it to be. you're listening for footsteps. or tapping. or whatever other noises might hint to otherworldly existence. 

     you hadn't been out of this bathroom in your entire time here. had you been hungry? yeah. but… what else were you supposed to do? you didn't exactly have a group to watch your back while you grabbed a lunchable from the kitchen. 

     nothing. nothing for the past ten minutes. the others should be here in about twenty. that's how long you have. so, with that in mind, you focus on your first location: your bedroom, where your phone, backpack, and blankets were. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

that's right, get part 1'd. hope you enjoyed

next part: over the horizon, somewhere

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 24

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

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MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 15 minutes

There wasn't anything he hated more than going shopping, especially when he had to enter those shops where he was scrutinized as soon as he set foot inside. His anxiety already reached its peak whenever he entered commercial shops filled with people, but it was a whole worse experience when the stores had more assistants than customers. It felt as if he had a huge neon light above his head that made everyone aware of his presence. It felt like he was less able to go unnoticed as he loved to do.

And it was still okay since he went there with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, he couldn't imagine how bad it'd have been if he had gone alone.

—Are you telling me you don't have a single suit that you could use? —Seonghwa mentioned first, turning to San with a concerned look.

—Tell me when I'd need to have one —his eyelids slightly dropped, challenging his friend.

—This weekend —his answer was so quick and blatant, that San could only roll his eyes while he walked around the store, trying to hide among the racks.

—Do you know what dress Y/n is going to wear? —Hongjoong asked, interrupting their dumb conversation.

—Why?

—Your outfits should match —Hongjoong commented as if it were obvious—. If her outfit is mostly red, you should wear a small detail in red. If her outfit is blue, you should wear a small detail in blue. And important: with the same tone. It's common sense.

San quickly shifted his eyes to Seonghwa, who only nodded at the intervention of their friend.

—She'll be wearing a white dress —he shrugged.

—Cream? Eggshell? Seashell? Off-white? —Seonghwa questioned.

—I don't know... White.

The huffs that came from his friends pushed him to ask Y/n for a pic of the dress, receiving one almost immediately after the dress spread on her bed, easily standing out among the gray sheets over the mattress.

Y/n: Are you buying your suit?

Y/n: Don't worry too much.

San's smile hinted to the other two friends what was going on in his phone, making them roll their eyes at just the idea of him being so easily distracted.

—Oh, it's a seashell white —Hongjoong mumbled, zooming in on the picture when San finally turned his phone.

Both of his friends walked ahead of him, almost as if they read each other's mind on what outfit would be the best one to match Y/n's.

And their ideas were great, until he had to try on a total of eight suits, changing the fabric of the shirts with each one of them, because a plain white shirt would be too basic for the type of event he was going to attend.

San was exhausted, almost tempted to give up and wear a simple shirt and a pair of pants of the same color so he wouldn't have to think about the accessories more than necessary. But he also knew that, after Y/n invited all of his friends and their girlfriends, they all would give him a hard time if he ever showed up that way.

—I really thought you'd take her home that day —San heard Seonghwa tease Hongjoong from the outside.

—Things need to go slow. And also, I needed to finish a project that same night —his other friend excused himself—. If I don't get it well done, they'll start dividing projects among the group, and I can't let that happen. Not when my rent is already eating fifty per cent of my salary.

—Are you talking about the baker? —San asked from the inside.

Hongjoong had told them about that girl. He met her when he went to get something to eat on a short break he allowed himself, and he didn't hesitate to ask her out. But now it seemed like he was hesitating on adapting to what she expected from a normal relationship, placing his job at the top of his priorities.

—Yeah, we agreed on meeting up again —Hongjoong added, rolling his eyes at Seonghwa—. She understood I had to work. See? Not everyone is a drama queen as you —looking back at the curtains that were moving due to San's movements inside, Hongjoong asked:—. How are things going with Y/n? Mingi told us you two see each other almost every day.

—Great —San answered, poking the brown shirt inside the white pants—. It's going well.

—That's good to hear. I was a bit worried —Hongjoong admitted.

—Why? —Seonghwa interrupted.

—I'm not sure if I told you, but Y/n is really exigent with men. I remember, when I worked with her company, people in her office were a bit cruel about that topic —he admitted.

—So knowing that you wanted to set her up with San? —Seonghwa accused him.

—You wanted to set me up with Y/n? —San asked, alerted, peeking his head through the navy curtain.

Seonghwa could only press his lips when Hongjoong squinted his eyes at him, cursing silently before he turned to San again.

—Remember the girl I told you to go on a date with, and you said no?

—You knew it was Y/n?

—No, I didn't know who the girl was. Until a few days ago. I was talking to a friend, and she said she was surprised at Y/n's relationship reveal, and that she was thankful you said no, because the blind date would've ended on a demand if you had crossed any lines with her —Hongjoong confessed with a low voice.

—People in her workplace were trying to set her up? —Seonghwa was surprised at the news.

—People in her workplace were looking for her to be easier on them, and they thought she behaved like that only because she wasn't in a relationship.

—Now... that's some sexist bullshit. How does her love life have anything to do with her work? —Seonghwa asked, visibly annoyed— She's a sweetheart. If she's rough with them, it's because they work like shit.

—Does Y/n know about this? —San tilted his head.

—No... I doubt it —Hongjoong puckered his lips as he shook his head—. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if she did know and only ate it up. It's not like she can do anything. You can't change an asshole from being an asshole.

—Well, but you can confront an asshole for being one —San answered back—. Who was it?

Neither of them had seen San actually mad at someone and, even less, calling someone else out. The fights in their group were never big enough, they were usually solved by him and Yunho getting in between to pacify those who got mad.

Hongjoong felt a mix of curiosity and caution as he thought of San ever thinking of confronting someone to defend Y/n. It was obvious he was serious with her, and that it hurt to hear anyone was trying to act ill against her, and all that made his reaction uncertain.

Y/n's leg was shaking nervously as she waited for San to show up at her door. Ever since he asked her for a picture of her dress, she knew he was buying his suit, and it only made her eager to see what he'd look like completely dressed up for an event like that.

Her body jumped almost immediately when the ring belled, sprinting, as she could with the white high-heeled sandals. She held onto the edge of her door as she opened it, greeting San with a bright smile that slowly vanished in surprise when she saw him for the first time.

He was already attractive, but there was something on the way he styled his bangs back that made him look even more manly. The outfit was simple, yet he pulled it out so well she didn't notice when her lips started parting as she looked down. His broad shoulders were even more marked with the white blazer he was wearing, which combined ingeniously with the brown shirt he had tucked inside his white pants.

San got out of the trance after looking at her in awe, distracted by how good she looked with her short hair up in a semi-updo. He knew the dress she was wearing, but nothing prepared him for seeing it on her. Despite the fabric being airy from her hips to below her knees, it adjusted perfectly to her curves at the top, being held with some thin straps.

—You look... God... —his eyes shined when he looked back at hers—. You look so beautiful —that compliment had her playing with the skirt of her dress.

—You look so good, too —her free hand moved over his chest, stopping at the two buttons unbuttoned—. But I think something's missing here.

—You think I should button them up?

—No —she giggled, inviting him to step inside—. Give me a second.

San looked around, as if he didn't know that place by heart. He had spent so many times there, that he was sure he'd be able to run across the place, blinded, without colliding with a single piece of furniture in there.

Her high heels clicked against each step of the stairs as she walked down again, looking at him as if she were a princess going to a ball with him. He was so lost in here, that he didn't notice the black necklace she was carrying in her fingers.

—You know, accessories are good, too —she puckered her lips, sliding her fingers over his neck.

The necklace was simple, with a thin black chain that unified at the center and extended together for a few more centimeters -making it look like a pendant, when in reality it had nothing.

—If you don't like it, we can take it off —she whispered, resting her hands on his chest as she looked satisfied with the result.

—If you like it, I bet it looks great.

On their way to the venue, Y/n was always comforting him and trying to make him feel good at what was going to happen. San managed himself at those places better than he thought, but even then she wasn't going to leave him by himself -that was why she also invited his whole friend group.

She left the car at the entrance, leaving her keys to the valet parking so they'd take care of it before she joined an intimidated San. Her fingers stroked the reverse of his left hand, stealing his attention from the entrance.

—You'll do great —she assured him—. Just be yourself, and remain calm. Eat, drink... and don't feel forced to speak to anyone you don't want to. I'm the one working, not you. And I won't leave you alone, but even if it happens...

—We'll be okay—San cut her off, moving his fingers to wrap them around her hand—. And you have a lot of things to worry about today, I shouldn't be one of them —his hand only left hers to move up her body, hooking on her nape to pull her closer and lie a kiss on her temple—. Show them all the boss that you are.

Y/n had to control herself not to give in to her deeper thoughts and let her legs turn to jelly. That man always knew what to do and what to say, and he always did it because he felt all of his actions and words.

In the venue, the attendees were divided into smaller groups. It was clear who were the influencers they were trying to gain, and who were customers directly related to the company throughout the years it had been running. Although it wasn't something that mattered, because the main point of the event wasn't making them interact among each other.

The cars were distributed inside. At the center, there were real life samples of the latest models that were currently on the market, while on the sides there were samples of older version that had been released through the years -with the latest models versioned in smaller sizes that fit in the showcase at the entrance.

At first, San and her were walking around together, greeting those who had been directly linked with the company for years, only for them to move apart after they greeted her father, with San remaining at one side with his group of friends, while Y/n was quickly trapped in an improvised meeting that discussed everything but the event going on. Despite being so far away, separated by the two lines of cars, their eyes always managed to meet over them, exchanging supporting smiles before they tried to go back to their conversations.

—I love what you two did here —Yunho praised—. It looks really cool.

—Will they give us one of the cars? —Jongho suddenly asked.

—Don't be tacky —Sam slapped his chest.

—Poor Y/n —Yeosang sighed—. Imagine preparing something like this, and being forced to be surrounded by old men.

—Well, I hope it's only for the first part of the event and they set her free soon so we can speak to her longer than a greeting —Seonghwa's lips twisted in disappointment.

—Tss, surrounded by old men, as if she didn't like that —San caught the comment over the conversation his friends were having.

Hongjoong caught San's loss of attention on the conversation when his eyes looked nowhere in concrete, while his head was bending towards the side where the voice was coming from.

—I still can't believe she hooked up with someone who could be her father —another one commented—. I guess as long as the green peeks over...

—That poor boyfriend of hers... —he heard the same voice— Hope he knows she'll dump his ass as soon as she finds someone with more money.

—That if she doesn't end up alone.

—She won't. Her father is insistent on her being married to someone before she inherits the company, why do you think she found this new noob?

One click of tongue and they all knew they were losing him. Meghan couldn't stop him even if she pinched on his blazer, and his friends' warnings turned into silent sounds as anger took the best of him.

—Are you enjoying the event? —he cut them off.

—Oh yes, thank you —one of the ladies smiled, holding up their cup of wine.

—I couldn't help but hear what you were talking about.

—Didn't you know that it's disrespectful to listen to others' conversations?

—Didn't someone teach you that it's of poor taste to talk shit about someone , while you're eating and drinking at her cost?

—Excuse me? —her eyebrows lifted— Do you know who I am? I'm Rita Smith, and I'm...

—A talkhead, that's what you are.

He wasn't surprised by the things she was saying after hearing her name. The same person who made sure rumors spread over Y/n was criticizing her for things that had nothing to do with the company.

—I can't blame you though, I'd also be miserable if I were you.

—Miserable?

—You spend your days turning down someone for existing, because your life is so shitty you can't find comfort in it without shitting on others.

Y/n, who had spent every five minutes holding back her eyes from rolling, felt suddenly disconnected from the discussion they had going on when she heard some voices being a bit louder than the rest, and not in the funny and exciting sense.

When she turned to the owners, she was shocked to see San being at the core of the argument. And not only was he there by his own choice, but he was also replying back to every comment that escaped Rita's lips.

Before any of them could question whether that was her boyfriend or not, and without checking once what her father's expression was, Y/n walked to her where San was, getting in between the argument that was heating up.

—Is everything okay?

Rita only smirked, looking away at the presence of Y/n.

—Like girlfriend, like boyfriend —she rolled her eyes—. Your boyfriend is attacking me.

—Attacking you? —Y/n's eyebrows raised in surprise, shocked at the accusation.

—Yes, he interrupted our conversation —she pointed at her secretary—, and disrespected me.

—Well, I guess if you say it, it's because it's true —Y/n sighed.

San looked at her shocked at first, confused at how she didn't hesitate to believe her words without letting him defend himself.

—After all, you're an expert on disrespecting people —Y/n continued, placing her hands on her hips as she confronted the woman—. You have big balls to accuse someone of disrespect when you've been doing that for years. But I can't start to explain the nerve you must have to come here at this party, and do the only thing you're useful for —Y/n was calling her out calmly, never raising her tone, never giving anyone the show they wanted—. And I'll be giving you two choices: either you leave now without making a fuss, or you can pick all of your things in the office on Monday morning. Your choice.

Rita looked at the group of people that were backing up San and Y/n without saying a word, making it clear that, it didn't matter what she said or did, neither of them would come to her defense.

With only a huff, Rita looked at her secretary and commanded her to start walking to the exit without saying a word; and Y/n was close to doing the same, turning to their group of friends to apologize for what happened, before she grabbed San by his wrist and walked him to one of the rooms that were used to prepare the catering in trays.

—She was crossing all the lines. And I'm sorry, I'm not going to apologize. I wasn't going to stand there...

Y/n interrupted him, linking their lips together, with San almost losing his balance and colliding his back against the door before he started responding back to her kiss. His hands saved a secured spot on her waist, pressing her body against his, while their lips moved sweetly against one another on a slow kiss.

—I wasn't going to ask for an apology —she rubbed her nose against him—. Rita has been acting like that since I took a position as the manager —her hands slid to his sides under his blazer—. I never put her in her place because I thought it'd be better to just ignore her, but what you did today was exactly what I should've done the first time it happened. I also wanted to thank you —she added with a weak tone—, it wasn't your problem, but still you defended me.

—I like you, of course it's my problem —San replied instantly—. I know we're just pretending to date, but what I feel about you is real. Someone trying to hurt you will hurt me either way, and I'll act as I should to just protect you from that.

Y/n was touched by his words, wrapping her arms around his waist to hide her face on his chest, hugging him tight.

—I was going to wait until later —she whispered, siding her head to rest her chin on his shoulder—, but I know I'll have an awful night if I just keep it to myself.

—Hmm? —his humm vibrated through her cheek, making her feel goosebumps.

—Why don't we date for real? —Y/n finally looked at him— We like each other, we want to make it work, why don't we just stop using the fake label and turn it into a real thing? It's not like it's going to change anything, but it makes me feel good to call you my boyfriend for real —she admitted, giving him a cute smile.

—You were going to ask me later? I was going to ask you on our next date. I'm always one step behind, seriously.

Y/n cut off his inner cursing with another kiss, linking their lips together for the first time as an official real couple. 

Taglist: @brown88

[gravemations]

Chasing Stars (will be continued, at some point)

(This is a short opening to my Ocs story about a world where magic is created from the power of Stars and other celestial body's. I am not the best writer so I might make some writing mistakes. )

A light, such a simple thing. You never release how important the warmth it gives, the shelter it provides.  That is till it is taken from you. 

Alice knew this feeling well for a while, she had lost the star that guided her to this place. She states out into the bumbling peppered down streets as the rain tumbled on cars, stores and people walking by. 

She watches  as they all walk by as if nothing was happening, she wonders why they were so tranquil moving as if  they were the water. She remembers how people would celebrate whole festivals when the Sky fall came. 

But this wasn't her home; she was as much a stranger to them as they were to her, Alice had only arrived in The city of Largshull recently, only arriving 2 days ago and was still needing to get accustomed to this place.  

She had been staying at an inn since she arrived by hiding in the haul of a cargo ship, she was lucky that they only released what happened as she bolted into the crowd once the ship docked climbing out from the deck quickly. 

But now she had a different problem, she didn't leave with a lot of money, scrounging around her pockets while getting ready for the day she realized that she needed to get a job soon.   

Did she even know how to get a job?? It didn't matter, she would just find a way. She thought to herself as she grabbed her green coat and hat from the floor, not noticing she still had stains on it but that can't be too much to be done about that.  

~~~~~~~~ 

This is just the worst isn't it? She scoffed as she sat down at a bench as the sound of rushing water went by from the pipes running off the buildings. It had been a week and things were not going well for her. 

She had applied for a number of jobs but not a single one had been accepted, turns out most employers don't like it when you show up with no records of who you are? 

She didn't have anything on them that identified who she was, only records of someone else. Alice was who she is and was not going to go back to what her father wanted her to be, that was why she was here.  

But it still didn't help that she couldn't get a job, scratching her arm and trying to think what she could even do. Looking around at the buildings that litter the street looking for places to try next to put in an application. 

Nothing really caught her eye but still she needed something so she started looking down and up the street, shops built into old buildings. Usually concrete or brick with water pipes coming off the sides and they go underground, some having balconies with plants covering them and intricate banners and crafts with many bright colours to contrast the whites and grays of the city. 

There were a few cafes or general stores, Alice noted this town till she saw something. 

A poster, wet from the rain but still together, it interested her as she got up to take a look. It was a poster for a precision for security for a company invested in research of relics. 

Alice pondered at this reading it carefully, it was a high pay for a job with no requirements usually meaning it was dangerous in some way. And knowing anything about relics that was true. Power objects infused with the power of stars.  

Alice knew that Stars were powerful and not meant to be tampered with from tales her mother told her when young. She knew it was a bad idea to mess with such a thing but that didn't stop her from ending up in an interview with the head of the company Ms Heikkila anyway. 

She was a well put together woman with a complexion whiter than quarts, with her hair in a tight bun in an older style dress with a brooch of what looks like lapis on her right side. Which very much constructed Alice more casual and ragged clothing.

She was calm yet had a look of assertiveness to her that you knew she knew exactly what she was talking about.

The interview was stressful and definitely could be seen on Alice's face debating what was in her mind even though this was a good idea.

And before she knew it she got the job despite her regretting ever getting it in the first place but she needed to feed herself somehow. She would need to head out to the business in the morning to get introduced to the work the place does and get used to the other people working there. But for now she was going to bed and who knows? Maybe while she works here she can find her new light.