#I will figure out a proper title for this tomorrow and probably get it up on AO3

[muffinlance]

So, how does Zuko wind up at the Tree of Time in Chaos Avatar to bust Vaatu out? Didn't you say the start is pre-banishment, post-mom gone? What, does he, as a descendant of Roku, have enough of a knack for spirit stuff to fall into a meditative trace while hiding at the turtleduck pond and missing his mom or whatever, and poof! He's at the Tree of Time?

FINALLY someone asks for the START. You are correct that the turtleduck pond is involved. <3

* * *

The turtleduckling had disappeared the day after mother did, but at least Zuko knew where it had gone. But he still wasn’t talking to Azula. 

“You have to talk to me sometime, Dum-Dum,” she said.

He crossed his arms, and stared at the remaining ducklings as they hid under a bush on the opposite side. There were four left.

“It was an accident, I didn’t even see it, and anyway it should have moved. You have to forgive me for accidents, moth—”

Mother said so. But they didn’t talk about mother anymore. 

Azula sat down next to him. She crossed her arms, too. And puffed out her cheeks, and glared, and he did not look like that. Not that he was paying attention to her. 

He was paying attention to the turtleducklings. Because… because there were five.

Azula went very still next to him.

The fifth turtleduckling had a darker shell and feathers, like it had been rolled in ashes. It waddled into the water, heedless of its parents' warning quacks and the two children the rest of its siblings were hiding from. 

Quack, it said, and paddled merrily along. 

Quack, it said, and disappeared like it had swum behind a screen. Except the screen was a normal patch of water and air, and he could see straight through it still. No fifth turtleduck.

“Is our pond… haunted?” Zuko asked.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Azula said, but it was more of a reflex, as they both stared. Then, more sharply: “What are you doing?”

Zuko was standing up. He found a pebble and, without a mother to re-advise him against throwing rocks into certain ponds, launched it towards the spot they’d last seen the ghost duck. 

Quack, quacked an extremely offended quacker, who was still out of sight. The rock had disappeared, too, with no ripple on the water to show it had ever landed.

“...Dare you to go in,” Azula said.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Azula said. “But a coward? That remains to be seen.”

Zuko glowered. Azula smirked. …Zuko started rolling up his pants.

“I wasn’t serious,” she snapped. “And I take it back, you are stupid,” which meant that now he was definitely going in. “Father is going to be angry when he sees you in wet robes,” she said, as he toed off his shoes. “And I’m not covering for you,” she said, as he caught his balance on the first slimy algae-covered stones, “and I’ll demand the servants attend me so they won’t be able to help you change, and—”

By then he was near the center of the small pond, and poking at air. His hand disappeared.

“I hope it hurts,” Azula said. She was on her feet now, with her arms crossed even more firmly over her chest.

“It just feels… normal? Maybe a little cold? It doesn’t—oww!” 

He jerked back his hand, complete with one ghost turtleduckling clamped over his palm. 

“Oww oww oww,” he shook it, and shook it, but it wasn’t coming off, and then he tripped on a stupid slimy rock and fell sideways—

“I’m not coming after you!”

—into somewhere that wasn’t the palace gardens at all. He’d fallen in water, but it was a shallow stream now. The day was colder, the wind stronger and drier. And there was a tree, up ahead.

The duckling dropped off his hand, and paddled away. Zuko barely glanced after it.

That was a very, very big tree. A purple light pulsed at its bulging, split-barked core.

“Hello, mortal,” the tree said.

At which point Zuko scrabbled backwards until he splashed back into the stiller, warmer, deeper water of the turtleduck pond.

“Evil tree,” he told Azula.

“Dum-Dum,” she said, and stomped off. 

By the time Zuko got inside, the servants were busy drawing their little princess a warm bath. He was made to wait his turn.

* * *

“I am unaware of any records pertaining to… evil trees,” the sage in charge of the royal archives said. 

“What about the spirit world?” Zuko asked.

* * *

The ghost turtleduckling swam with impunity between realms. And stole entire loaves out of Zuko’s hands, before fleeing on its tiny paddling feet to the safety of the other side.

“Hey!” 

It had learned that Zuko wouldn’t follow. Neither would its equally hungry siblings.

* * *

A place of death could form a rift, if the spirit did not realize its own passing. If it still desired to return, and was unaware of the general impossibility of the task. Spirits worked mostly on not realizing they couldn’t do a thing. 

“Oh,” Zuko said, to the scroll.

As this was a more common occurrence with animal spirits than with humans, who tended to overthink things even in death, it did not help Zuko narrow down his mother’s location.

* * *

Azula had stopped coming to the pond. And they had different bending instructors, now; father said a private tutor would stop her from being held back by… others. She preened.

Since Zuko was left alone at his lessons, he had a private tutor now, too. It didn’t feel like a reward.

* * *

“...Hello again, mortal,” the tree said, its voice oozing like a courtier’s. “Do come in. No need to be shy.”

“Are you evil?” Zuko asked, only his head poking through the rift.

“Such terms rarely apply to spirits,” the tree said, exactly like an evil tree would. “Consider our meeting, rather… an opportunity. Is there something you require assistance with? You would not have found yourself in this part of the spirit world, if I could not help. Perhaps we could— Mortal, come back here—”

Zuko pulled his head back out. It was definitely evil. But he’d gotten a better look at the patterns on the glowy purple part, so he sat down on the pond’s edge, and drew them before he forgot. He’d brought paper this time.

Maybe he wasn’t a good bender. Or heir. But there was an evil tree in the royal turtleduck pond, and he wasn’t a coward. He’d take care of it.

* * *

The sage in charge of the archives blinked. Took the paper from him, and blinked again. 

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I believe I have seen something like this. Come.”

The scroll was old. So old it wasn’t even the original: it had been copied, and had time to grow old all over again. The sage fretted over every crackling inch they unrolled.

“Where did you say you saw this design?” the sage asked.

“...I, uh. Dreamed it?” Zuko said.

They stared, together, at an inked drawing of the Avatar’s patron spirit. 

* * *

…If Zuko found the Avatar, father would definitely like him better than Azula.

* * *

“Mortal,” the evil tree greeted, much less cordially.

“Are you the Avatar?”

“What,” it inquired, with a sort of rustling tree sigh, like it was already disappointed in his answer, “is the Avatar?”

Oh. So… no.

“It’s just, there was this picture in a scroll, of the Avatar’s patron spirit. And they looked like you, except without the tree, and white—”

“Raava,” the tree hissed.

Which had probably been the kanji that he hadn’t recognized. But neither had the sage, so it must have been a really hard one.

“Tell me about this… Avatar,” the tree said.

And maybe Zuko should have gone back to the training grounds to practice his katas more. Or read over the next chapters in his textbooks again, so he’d actually understand them when his instructors went over them tomorrow. But he was still sore from the extra sets his master had assigned as remedial instruction after Zuko had embarrassed them both in front of father. And sometimes when he read ahead he thought too much and got all the wrong ideas in his head, like the time he’d asked why Sozin hadn’t formed a coalition of other nations against the threat of the Air Nomad army. And that just made more work for his instructors to fix, so.

So Zuko sat down, on the stream bank nearest his escape route, and talked to an evil tree.

“They’re the master of all four elements,” he said. “The last one was an enemy to the Fire Nation, and the new one’s been hiding, probably because he’s too much of a coward to face us—”

* * *

He brought an extra loaf of bread next time. One for the ducklings who needed it, and one for the duckling who just thought she did. The ghost duckling tugged and tugged against his grip, before grudgingly clambering up to eat in his lap.

She was really soft.

She bit really hard.

“How many of these… Avatars… have there been?” the evil tree asked.

* * *

“How many Avatars have there been?” Zuko asked the sage.

“Nigh uncountable,” the man said. “Have you had more dreams, my prince?”

“Um,” Zuko said.

* * *

“A lot,” Zuko told the tree. “The sage in the archive said the histories don’t go back that far. He guessed there were at least a hundred.”

“...And how long does your species of mortal live?”

“Avatar Kyoshi lived a really long time. But most of us don’t live more than seventy or eighty years. And some of the Avatars probably died a lot sooner than that, if people resented their meddling as much as the textbooks say.”

“Seven thousand years,” the tree said. “At least.”

And then it got really quiet, for a long time. Which was natural for a tree, but not for an evil tree. Zuko sat with it. He’d brought his homework, so he wouldn’t be wasting his study time.

…Except he kind of did, because apparently ghost turtleducklings could sleep—or at least, dream of sleeping?—and this one did it right in his lap.

* * *

They had flambéed quail-shark for dinner, and Zuko had almost been late, but father was too busy watching the flames to notice him sliding onto his cushion. Azula did.

“Look,” she whispered, “a dead bird can firebend better than you.”

* * *

“Flambé,” Zuko scolded, trying to pull half a loaf of bread out of the mouth of a ghost turtleduckling intent on choking herself.

“...What is ‘flambé’?” the evil tree asked.

And, after Zuko was done with that explanation: “What is… ‘taste’?”

* * *

“I need a recipe book,” Zuko told the sage. “With pictures.” 

“I… of course, my prince. But first, would you like any of these?”

The man had set out a whole table of toys. Most were wooden. They all looked really old. There was another sage there, one of the ones from the high temple. He was just kind of standing there, watching them for some reason. 

“Thanks,” Zuko said. “But I’m too old for toys.”

They both watched him leave.

* * *

“Which turtle do you hail from?” the tree asked.

“I… don’t know?”

The tree sighed. “Air. Water. Earth—”

“Fire!” Zuko said.

“Yes,” it said drily, “that is the final option.”

“No, that’s… that’s what I bend. I’m from the Fire Nation.”

“Ah,” the tree said, in its oil-slick voice. “The element of power. A fine fit, for such a promising young larva.”

So today was going to be one of those days.

Zuko crossed his arms. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, “but if you keep trying to make me evil, I’m going to go back and practice my bending some more.”

“No need for anything so dramatic,” it said. “But I would wager that there’s something you need more power for. Some task to do, or someone to impress. Perhaps someone to… surpass?”

Azula was two sequences ahead, now. Father had rewarded her with an even better tutor. They were very famous, or something. 

“Perhaps we can help each other,” the tree said.

“Do you want more water?” Zuko asked. Because he’d been sitting here day after day thinking how dry the ground was, even with the stream, and the stream was actually really far from the tree’s roots. Maybe that was why it looked so dead. Maybe it wasn’t evil, it was just really thirsty. “I could dig the stream closer. I saw farmers doing that, when mo— When we toured the countryside, when we were younger. They said it was good for the plants.”

“I…” the tree said, like that was not the response it expected. “No, larva. I do not require more water.”

“What else do trees need?” Zuko asked.

“...I am not the tree. I am inside the tree.” 

“Oh. Oh. …You can come out, if you want. I’ll try not to be scared.”

It was silent again. And then it was laughing, but not a funny laugh. And then it was shouting, and Zuko knew better than to talk back when someone was shouting at him. 

“I cannot simply come out. I have been trapped here, alone, for millennia beyond your comprehension, and…”

The spirit stopped, and took in great big breaths, which wasn’t a thing father or his tutors did until they were done yelling. The spirit had stopped itself early, without Zuko apologizing even once. 

“...Is that why you’re lonely?” He’d thought it was because it was a tree, and evil trees without many leaves probably didn’t get many visitors. But being inside a tree probably wasn’t any better.

“I am not lonely,” the not-a-tree growled. “Listen, human larva. I will grant you power beyond your mortal imagining. You can be that Avatar you speak of, if you join with me. All I require in exchange is to not be in a tree.”

* * *

“Could someone who isn’t the Avatar learn the other elements?” Zuko asked the sage.

“...I suspect,” said the man, looking somewhat tired, “that the most likely explanation for such a phenomenon would be that this person was the Avatar. I happen to have a book here, with select personal accounts of how those who came into the knowledge prior to their sixteenth birthdays adjusted to the situation. If you would be interested.”

Zuko scowled, because that wasn’t helpful at all.

* * * 

“You’re never going to catch up, Zuzu,” Azula said. “But I suppose you could come train with me, if you asked nicely. My new tutor believes in the benefit of sparring, even against lesser opponents. We don’t even need to ask father, so long as you can refrain from embarrassing us both.”

“Mmhmm,” said Zuko, who was thinking.

“Well?” she snapped.

“Sorry, what?”

His sister stomped away.

* * * 

She wouldn’t talk to him at dinner, which was normal, because she always talked with father then.

She wouldn’t talk to him at any other meals, either, which wasn’t. Father wasn’t even there for those, it was just them and the servants who silently scurried in and out.

She didn’t even barge into his room to read his essays over his shoulder and laugh. …Or read the play scrolls they’d smuggled out of mother’s room before the servants had cleaned it, and laugh together. 

* * *

The servants were polite, but father hated for them to waste time on idle chatter.

Uncle was still missing. 

The sage in the archives kept looking at him funny.

“Could we spar sometime?” Zuko asked Azula, because he missed training together.

For some reason, that made her ignore him even harder.

* * * 

Flambé nibbled at his pant legs, then bit his ankle, then waddled petulantly away. Zuko hadn’t brought any bread, this time. 

“I don’t think power would help me,” Zuko said. Not unless it could make him smart enough to learn faster, or help him find mother, or fix whatever in him was so broken that father didn’t even like to look at him. “But… would you like to see the rest of the turtleducks? The not-dead ones.”

Flambé quacked derisively from the side.

“No,” the probably evil spirit said. “I do not desire to see more turtleducks. One is quite enough.”

“...Maybe the garden? It’s nice.”

“No, I—” it said. And then it paused. And got out its oily voice again, like that was something that it needed with Zuko. Maybe it didn’t know how else to talk when people were being nice to it. “...Yes. Yes, I would enjoy seeing your delightful little garden. Simply place your hand into the tree, and…”

“And?” Zuko asked.

“…This is a permanent thing, larva. Beyond even your single miniscule lifetime, as your so-called Avatar discovered. Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. And stepped past the banks of the stream, and marched right up to the tree itself. He pushed his hand into his friend’s prison. 

Someone that wouldn’t ignore him, who couldn’t leave him. Zuko had never been more sure in his life.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Vaatu,” whispered the oil-slick voice, inside his own mind.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Future Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 1: Your eyes are swallowing me

Chapter title is lyrics from "Sleepwalking"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I'd be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed him. 

So maybe I did take a little longer to get ready when I knew he'd be around; maybe my skirt was suddenly pulled up just that little bit higher than usual; maybe I loosened a button or two, but it's not like I was delusional enough to believe I ever had a shot with the man.

I was just an assistant. 

I did the menial tasks that usually went unnoticed. But sometimes when I came back with food he'd flash me the most wicked smile as he took it off me.

"Ta, love", and a shiver would run through my body.

It was the night after a big set in London, an apartment style hotel room had been booked for the whole band with a shared common space. The place had clearly been picked as a bit of a party accommodation to celebrate the tour. It was quite posh, lavish furniture, open planning, and a great view. All the things you'd expect of an expensive hotel. 

Everyone had gotten a bit too drunk tonight, and it was part of my job to make sure they got to bed to catch a flight tomorrow, so I was the only sober one here. 

It was also my job to make sure the alcohol kept flowing, the right guests were let in, and taxis were ordered. 

Despite how busy I was, I kept catching myself staring at him. I couldn't help myself, he was always such a delightful mess after a concert; dishevelled hair, smeared eyeliner, a bit sweaty – a wonderful mix of tired and happy. Essentially he always came off the stage looking like he'd just finished having some really good sex.

I shook my head, realising I'd been staring again.

Hopefully he hadn’t noticed.

The night went by in a blur of busy tasks. Suddenly it was four in the morning, I had just finished getting everyone to bed and all the guests out of there. I sighed deeply at the state of the place and began the daunting task of cleaning up. 

That's when I saw him across the room.

The lights were dimmed low as I’d been strategically turning them off throughout the night in the hopes that it would make everyone sleepier, so I was only able to make out the silhouette of a man.

He was sprawled on the sofa, legs spread and leaned back, but I could tell it was Oli – his long, fluffy hair is unmistakable.

"Oh fuck, Oli you scared the living shit out of me."

That was probably the longest sentence I'd ever dared say to him, as I was usually too flustered to form proper sentences, but the sheer exhaustion from the night and the adrenaline from surprise got the better of me.

I heard a laugh from the dark figure on the sofa, "Sorry love I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm not ready to sleep just yet." You could hear the words had been spoken with a lazy smile.

Suddenly I was very aware of the fact that we were all alone, and he sounded... 

No, I didn’t even dare think it.

He's just tired and drunk, surely that's the only reason he sounds so...

"R-right. Just remember we've got a flight tomorrow."

I could see his head tilt to the side as he contemplated what I’d said, but he clearly decided he didn't give a fuck, as his response came unbothered, completely ignoring my comment, "Get me another drink will you?"

Suddenly the walls felt as if they were closing in. I was nervous to say the least. I had never been alone with him before, and for some reason it felt weirdly intimate despite him being all the way across the room.

I didn't know how to respond beyond simply following his order, so I shakily turned around and walked over to the dining room table where all the drink bottles were lined up, while being entirely too aware of his gaze on me from behind. 

There was a rustle of fabric like he’d gotten off the sofa, followed shortly by the sound of his footsteps behind me by the table. 

I didn't get a chance to properly digest what was happening before his hands were firmly gripping my hips, making me gasp, the impact almost making me fall forward. Instead I instinctively braced myself against the table, nearly knocking over the half empty liquor bottles there.

My heart began racing, threatening to jump out of my chest, as I felt his hard cock clearly through the fabrics between us, pressing against my ass as I was pinned to the table. His hand quickly moved to my throat to prevent me from falling forwards further, as if he didn’t want me bent over, using it to guide my head close to his.

I was surrounded by him.

His scent, his hair falling into my view, his lips against my ear, his breath against my cheek, the hand on my throat possessive and firm. I was contorted, pinned painfully between the table and his warm body behind me as I was being held up by his grip.

His lips parted gently against my ear, and spoke in a tone I can only describe as carnal, "I get lonely you see, and I've noticed you noticing me. You want me, yeah?”

He had noticed after all.

I swallowed, hard.

“Will you nod for me love if you want me."

My heartbeat promptly moved between my legs.

I do want him – oh god do I want him. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

But his request was so much more than a search for knowledge of whether I wanted him or not, it was an inquiry of approval, a probing of whether I’d allow this to happen, or if we part ways here before anything further happens.

I nodded against his hand around my throat, causing his breath to speed up.

His lips spread into a smile against my ear, "Let’s have some fun then."

I was wearing a simple, strappy, mini dress so his hair fell onto my bare shoulders as he kissed my neck, his warm breath fanned my skin. My eyes shut from the delightful sensations, and I began mindlessly moving my hips against him, causing his grip on me to tighten.

"Ah, you like that don't you?"

I nodded again, probably a bit too eagerly. 

He chuckled, which I felt as a puff of warm air against my neck more than heard. His mouth returns to my ear, speaking lazily like a predator toying with its prey, "You're so fucking desperate for me, aren't ya?" 

My eyes flew open. I nodded again, slower this time, feeling exposed.

The truth is that I am desperate; desperate enough daydream about him constantly, to touch myself at night when I was all alone, imagining all ways I want to be fucked by him. In fact, I’d grown quite attached to using all my perverted thoughts about the man as a distraction from my life, from everything I’ve been through lately.

From pain.

"I bet you're soaking, I bet you have been all night." His grip on my hip relaxed, turning into a caress, moving towards the hem of my dress, lifting it slightly as his fingers trailed closer to my pussy. 

His voice darkened and intensified, "I reckon you've ruined your underwear just being near me." 

Then his hand finally reached my pooling wetness and my body immediately went electric, my knees buckled and my mouth fell open with a gasping, desperate moan as my hands mindlessly grabbed at his strong arm holding my throat to steady myself.

The hand that had just caused my brain to short circuit from a simple touch to my core, quickly retracted away to yank me back up from slumping over. 

"Sh, sh, sh, you're gonna have to be quiet or you're gonna wake the lads, can’t have that, can we?" He whispered playfully.

I just wanted him back between my legs, so I spoke, in such a desperate tone that I surprised myself, "I–I'm sorry, p--please, please don't stop."

His grip on me loosened to pull the skirt of my dress up to my waist, and slide my underwear down. I felt them pop over my ass before falling to my ankles on the floor. 

"We don't need these anymore." He muttered behind me as he returned to feel my pussy, this time without the soaking fabric stopping him. I felt his forehead on my shoulder as he moved along my folds with intent, his breath coming faster.

"To be honest with you love, I'm pretty fucking desperate too." Then he pushed two fingers into me and I was suddenly fighting for dear life not to moan. 

I gripped the table again to stay upright, willing my body to behave. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop.

His mouth replaced his forehead on my shoulder, kissing me with parted lips, biting slightly every so often, his hips pushed back into mine, causing me to feel his cock against my ass again – now only his fabrics between us.

I felt untethered, like I’d been transported somewhere else, into some wild fantasy; this couldn't possibly be happening. 

I turned my head slightly, searching, wanting to kiss him. His mouth moved to my neck, then my ear, then my cheek, leaving breathy kisses and bites where he wanted to.

Right when I thought he was going to turn me around to kiss him, he removed the fingers and placed the now soaking hand firmly on the back of my neck, pushing me forward. I gasped in surprise and disappointment at the hand once again disappearing from my pussy, but the grip was strong and I could only obey. I pushed the bottles in front of me forward as I was bent over so they wouldn't be knocked over. 

The shock of the sudden movements brought me back to reality and I started blushing. I was currently bent over a table, bare ass and pussy exposed to Oli Sykes, in the middle of a shared common room where any of the band mates could walk in at any point. This was insane.

But I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

"Fuck." he said under his breath behind me, "You're a vision…" Then I heard more fabric rustling, and suddenly something a lot warmer and bigger was at my entrance. 

How was I supposed to not moan? How was I supposed to not… 

And then he started pushing into me. 

I bit down on my lip so hard it would probably bruise, clawing at the table. A low moan came from behind me as he pushed deeper, to the hilt. He stopped there for a moment and leaned over me; I could feel his heat, the rising and falling of his chest, his laboured breathing against me, his soaking hand still possessively on the back of my neck. 

"You're doing great love, stay just like that, don't make a sound, yeah?" He whispered close to my ear.

That's when he started pumping, and I once again was transported to some other reality. I couldn't help it, I was moving, I felt wild, I wanted to scream, and suddenly I’d lost control again and another moan escaped my lips.

As soon as I did he stopped, his hand that had been pinning me to the table wrapped around my neck, leaving all the flesh there wet with my own juices, before pulling me back up against him.

His lips were back at my ear, hair back in my vision. “What a shame, you were doing so well for me.”

He pulled away and I felt him slip out of me, causing a pang of sadness to wash over me, thinking it's over, but in the same motion he turned me around, grabbing me by the hips to sit me on the table before him. He spread my legs to step between them, before our eyes met.

And suddenly it felt as if time stopped.

He is gorgeous. 

Dishevelled hair falling haphazardly around his face, lips slightly parted, the tattoos creeping up his neck, framing his face. His eyes were shining bright in the dim light, glassy but still intense. There was so much hunger in them, yet so much sadness.

The words slipped out of me without a thought, barely a whisper, “...Are you ok?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he searched my face, clearly not quite sure how to respond, like I'd thrown him off. You could tell he was intoxicated, as I don't think he'd be this honest with me, essentially a stranger, in a sober state – nor this forward. 

He spoke softly, “Tonight I wanted to throw everything away, just say fuck it; does anything really matter? I'm supposed to have my fucking shit together, yet all I want to do–” He looked away, shaking his head as he cut himself off. 

Silence filled the air around us for a long moment as he was lost in thought, then suddenly his eyes shot back to mine, speaking slowly, thoughtfully, “I've had my eye on you all night, and you look just as wrapped up in temptation as I feel. I just need an escape and I have a feeling you do too, don't you?”

His vagueness didn't matter, I knew what he was talking about, and I felt it too; the relentless pressure of life was crushing and there was a reason I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, why I wanted him so badly. Everyone could see there's something tortured about Oli, something passionate and wild that could barely be contained. 

And while I didn’t like to acknowledge it, I could relate. I also wanted to just let go, be free. Whatever that meant.

And I wanted to go there with him.

I reached out to touch his face, he flinched at the intimate gesture but didn't resist.

My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn’t find the words so I just nodded instead.

His expression softened and he nodded in return; a silent understanding that neither of us fully knew why the other needed this, but it didn’t matter. We didn’t need to know the intimate details about each other's pain to know we’re both desperate for some relief.

His eyes fell to my lips, “I just want to lose myself in you for a little while...”

Lose myself. 

Yes that’s it – a nice little escape from it all. I could feel a sombre smile spread across my lips. With the caress on his cheek I tried to guide him into a kiss, but instead he moved to my neck, tasting my juices still lingering there. 

He made a low rumbling noise in his chest then moved back to my ear, “You taste so sweet, love. Now, let's see if we can keep you quiet for this next bit.”

Pulling away he met my gaze again, this time with a faint devilish smile playing on his lips as he placed his hand over my mouth to encourage me to remain silent.

I didn’t resist, I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me again.

It hit me that I am not sure exactly where my limits were, as long as he just continued using me.

Using me. 

That’s what it was, that’s what I craved.

I just want him to use me.

While this was news to me, I didn't want to think about this revelation now. The last thing I wanted to do right now was psychoanalyse myself. Thankfully I didn’t have to try very hard to shake the thought off, because Oli pulled me right back to the moment as his less busy hand slipped between us, guiding his cock back to me.

“I'll take things a bit slower at first, yeah? And you will stay quiet this time.” 

He was nodding his head while holding my gaze steadily, clearly expecting me to nod back in return.

So I did, looking nervous as I didn’t fully trust myself.

“Fuck, don't make that face love, I just want to start pounding to watch you struggle.”

Despite his last words, he entered me slowly. His eyes darken as he pulled me closer to him. Then he was moving inside me, that wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his gaze lazily roamed me. When his eyes came back to meet mine I could see something wild flicker behind them, like a promise of things to come.

Yes.

He was moving faster, testing me to see if I could keep quiet. My nails were digging into his shoulders to retain control, but I was doing it, only the slightest of noises escaped me.

“That's it, just like that.”

He looked at the hand covering my mouth, the tip of his tongue playing against his teeth. The grip loosened and two fingers pushed playfully into my mouth, his breath catching at the sight, appearing positively feral. His movements stopped for a moment, before he thrust into me, hard, his smile turning into a more serious expression, as if he was at some type of breaking point.

As if he was really sick of containing himself.

“Fuck it.” He said in a deep tone before removing the fingers that had been feeling my tongue, replace them with his lips. His arms wrapped around me, kissing me deeply, moaning into my mouth as he began thrusting harder.

Our hands are everywhere, grabbing, pulling, pushing, clawing.

I felt fingers slip into my hair to yank my head back in order to bite my neck, and I couldn't help it, I whimpered in response.

But he didn't care, if anything it spurred him on.

After a moment he pulled away to push me down on the table once more, this time facing him.

I looked up at him; he looked dangerous, unleashed, almost animalistic. His hair was everywhere, his mouth was open, panting heavily, and I could barely see his eyes. The energy was infectious, I was smothered in it as I writhe on the table.

Yes, this is it. This is what I need.

He pulled the top of my dress and bra down in one swift and painful motion, his hand gripping my throat agonisingly hard.

Hard enough for normal breaths to become difficult.

A rush of adrenaline washes over me, a confusing yet delightful mix of fear and arousal. He must have noticed, as his grip on my neck loosened slightly, letting me know he was still in there somewhere, despite appearing almost possessed. 

With that knowledge I let go. 

I clawed at him, wrapped my legs around him. He was so warm and solid, and I felt as if I was drowning in it; in him. Our movements became a blur of pain and pleasure. 

Somewhere in the distance I heard glass bottles clanging, then one after another fell to the floor. 

Again, he didn’t care. 

The world had fallen away and it was only us and our ecstasy here.

His head lowered as his movements came slower, with more intent. In a deep, nearly unrecognisable voice he murmurs, “I'm close.”

Another rush of emotions washed over me. 

A certainty, an almost primal need. I spoke my wishes through clenched teeth in a strangled and desperate tone, “Cum in me.”

His grip on me tightens further, this time constricting my breathing entirely. He falls forward on top of me, burying his face in the crook of my neck next to the vice grip he held on my throat. My fingers dig into his hair, pulling him closer. His breath became ragged as I felt him filling me up with every thrust. 

After a moment I hear some of it drip onto the floor beneath us.

The grip on my neck loosened and I inhaled sharply.

We lay like this for a minute before coming back to reality, letting our heart rates slow down.

I was bewildered, yet amazed. 

What had just happened? I felt like I’d unlocked a whole new part of myself, a longing that I didn’t quite understand yet, something simmering under the surface for what felt like years. 

Something in me craved the danger, the fear, the pain, to be used. Like there was some depraved form of freedom in giving my body and mind to someone and letting them have their way with me. And not to mention; how can something make me feel this incredibly good, without having even reached orgasm from it?

In all the confusion, one thing felt completely unwavering;

I wanted more.

Thoughts were swimming around in my head when a gentle caress grazed my throat. It was a sweet gesture, the polar opposite of the aggression I’d just experienced during our shared bliss. My brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he raised himself up, our faces only inches apart. I studied his expression, he appeared worried – questioning.

A soft, almost boyish voice spoke, “Are you alright?”

Such simple words, but the question wasn’t. 

I could tell he wanted to know if I felt unsafe, if I was in pain, and if what transpired between us had crossed a line. If he had crossed a line.

My face blooms into a tired smile, “Yes. I’m a bit confused, but I’m good.”

His expression softened some but not fully, and he started searching my neck and chest for any signs of injury, but I grabbed his hands to stop him. 

“Really, I’m okay. I didn’t know I could feel like this. I-I don’t fully understand it…“ I paused to try and find the words, “Tonight you’ve done more for me than I could–” 

He cuts me off with a kiss, much more tender than our previous ones. After a moment he pulls away to speak, “Oh love, you have no idea.”

I continued smiling, I couldn’t stop, and his features mimicked mine. 

My words came sheepishly, “Maybe we could do this again?” 

Right as I finished speaking another audible drop of cum was heard hitting the floor beneath us. We both exhale a small laugh – an acknowledgement of how bizarre the situation was.

He brushed some hair away from my face, “How about we have a little chat tomorrow, yeah? When we’re both a bit more clear headed.”

I couldn’t tell if he just wanted a way out, or if he wanted to make sure I was really okay with what had happened tonight. So I just nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you sorted then shall we?” He helped me into a sitting position and attempted to adjust my clothes a bit, as if I wasn’t the picture of freshly fucked; one of my dress straps had torn, my hair was completely messed up, with equally messy makeup, and of course – literally dripping cum. 

I had to stifle another laugh.

He pulled away, adjusting his own clothes, and shot me one last smile before slipping back to his room.

I sat there for some time, taking in the mess all around me. Almost all the bottles were on the floor, with one of them having shattered. 

How had I not noticed? 

There wasn’t a chance everyone in the band hadn’t heard us. 

This will be awkward tomorrow.

... Continue reading on Ao3

[ourfairdominion]

GerCan- Knight/Prince AU [part1 of ?]

(I haven't given this fic a proper title yet and this is the first draft. I'm thinking of posting it all on AO3 once/if I finish it.)

Prince!Matthew/ Knight!Ludwig

"Hey Matthew. I'm sorry, I won't be able to go hunting with you tomorrow. Father needs me to go with him to a meeting with another family."

"Is he trying to marry you off already?" Matthew joked, letting out a laugh trying to hide his disappointment from the older prince.

"No... or at least I hope not. Now I'm worried. Listen, I'm really sorry, I'll make it up to you." Alfred apologized again.

Matthew continued packing his bags, more trying to hide his face then anything "No worries. I can just go alone, and we can go together another time."

"Don't go alone. You know mother worries about you when you go off by yourself. Father worries too. What if something happens to you." He was worried but didn't want to show it too much. "Take a knight with you at least. I’m sure they’ll enjoy a bit of a break too."

“Fine, just get one who’s close to my age. I don’t want to be stuck with a stuffy old man.”

–

“Well at least he’s not old, and handsome.” Matthew thought as he looked over at the knight. 

Sir. Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig Augustus von Beilschmidt, probably the most stuffy of the knights. He figured that Alfred chose him because he was probably the best choice to protect him. 

After a while into the ride Matthew finally spoke to break the silence .

“Sir. Fredrich?”

“Yes, your highness?” 

“Do you enjoy hunting?” 

“Yes, your highness. My older brother used to take me when I was younger, but I haven't gone for a few years.” The knight’s eyes never stopped scanning his surroundings as he spoke.

That was a lot more than Matthew was expecting to get out of the man. He had to be honest it was nice to have someone to come along with him, maybe it won’t be as bad as he thought. “Well, I know the best hunting spots. There are a bunch of boar around this part if that’s what you want. Or I know another place a bit further away that’s good for deer.”

“Whichever you prefer, your highness.” 

He let out a sigh. Back to formal talk, he was hoping he could have had a proper conversation but it wasn’t going to happen if the Knight was going to be so formal.

 “Sir. Fredrich. I know this isn’t proper but on this trip you may just call me Matthew.” 

Sir. Fredrich almost froze for a moment. Talking to someone from the royal family so formally was usually a big no, but it did seem like an order directly from a prince.

“Of course…. Matthew.” 

“Thank you. So, do you want to hunt boar or deer?”  

“Deer, if that pleases you… Matthew.”

“Deer it is then. It’s a nice day for a longer ride anyway.” The prince smiled at him before starting to lead the way. 

—

After a little while of traveling Matthew came to a stop  and jumped off his horse with bow in hand.

“Your highn… Matthew?” Being so formal with the prince was very strange, but it was a direct order and he didn’t want to disobey.

“There are tracks over here that look fresh, I think there’s one around here.”  Matthew wandered around looking for other tracks and his knight found a place to tie off the horses so they wouldn't wander off. 

“This way Sir. Fredrich.” Matthew called back and pointed towards a narrow path through the thick brush. He looked so happy now that he was out in the woods. It was almost like out here he didn’t need to act princely, like he was out of the view of anyone who would disapprove of him not being proper. 

“Ludwig”

“Pardon?” 

“If we’re going to be informal on this trip, then you can call me Ludwig if it pleases you.” Ludwig felt awkward, but it felt like the right thing to do since the Prince seemed to be informal on the trip.

“Of course Ludwig.” Matthew gave him a warm smile before leading the way into the forest. For a moment he swore he saw Ludwig smile back.

—--

They made it back with their kill just as the sun was setting. Servants came out to take the large stag that they managed to track down and the smaller game they got along the way to be butchered. 

“I don’t think it’ll be ready until tomorrow but I can have some of the meat sent to you once they’re done, Sir.Fredrich.” Matthew switched back to a proper mannerisms now that he was back in the palace walls. “I could also have some of my cooks prepare a meal for the two of us for dinner tomorrow night if you would like.” 

Matthew wanted to get to know the Knight better now that they spent a whole day together away from the palace.

“I would very much like that. Your majesty.” Ludwig get a little bow to Matthew.

[poisonhemloc]

Here's this link that's the only proper story i've posted to tumblr (most of the story stuff lives on an unedited and unorganized google doc)

but uh

actually i like the 'finally forcing Porphy and Gossan to start dating' bit so im gonna put that under the cut but don't feel obligated to draw that, draw whatever ...for this aus purposes Granite, Gabbro, Feldspar and Riebeck all generally wear skirts (Gabbro (and Granite who's got their hand me downs) tends to florals) but otherwise its mostly. modern ish clothing? just with pockets for everyone

and the truck itself has a starry sky painted onto it with the 'Outer Wilds Tacos' logo to one side of the order/get your food window

...minor note with this au (and just this au not the main game) Gabbro and Porphy are siblings for plot reasons

Gabbro stretched, finally done inputting grades. Done with that class, the other class would have their final in two days but tomorrow they didn’t have anything til noon, Granite was out tonight cause they went over to Hal’s so Gabbro had a condo to themself-

Oh, they had a text. Who-

Feldspar. Ten minutes ago, oops. ‘Please work tonight pleaaase i need someone whos not gossan’ They looked at it, looked at the ceiling, sighed, and grabbed their hearing aids.

‘On my way’

Feldspar looked ready to hug them when they walked over to the truck. “Thank you, I told Gossan you were after more hours for something-”

“Just need a night not listening to flirting?”

“Yes, Hearth, it’d be fine if they were actually dating but they’ve just been flirting for who knows how long.”

Feldspar took over driving, with the newly returned license, as though Gabbro cared. “I gotta figure out something to get them to move on but Gossan won’t talk about it with me.”

“Porphy won’t talk about it with me, either.” 

They parked, Feldspar put the sign out, Gabbro took their spot at the order window-

And there was Porphy, with a huge grin that turned into a scowl when they saw Gabbro. “You’re not on tonight.”

“Since when do you have our schedule?”

“Gossan told me they were here all week.”

“I wanted some extra hours.” Porphy was glaring at them, then turned and vanished back behind the bar.

“Mission accomplished, Feldspar. I’m taking over cooking once the college hatchlings show up.”

“Fine by me.” A Nomai appeared, walking over quickly. This was someone who worked here, right?

“Hello?”

“I am Oeno.” 

“Wait, you’re, assistant manager, right?”

“Among other titles, yes. I was going to ask what has caused such a bad mood in my boss but the lack of Gossan is probably the answer.” 

“Yep. Feldspar called for help and I’m the employee that answered.” Oeno sidled up to the counter, keeping his third eye fixed on the door behind the bar.

“I was hoping for a way to stop this. Not, cause them to break up, but, stop the flirting four nights a week. I am sure it is slowing down dealing with important matters, especially when it is busy. I am also sure it slows down your truck.”

“Not that much, but it’s awkward having Porphy have to keep moving out of the way when we get busy.” Feldspar was leaning over Gabbro’s shoulder. 

“I think, I might have an idea.” Gabbro glanced in the same direction Oeno was looking, and laid out a plan. 

There was a moment of silence, as the first family or two wandered in, then Oeno nodded. 

“It will either work or fail spectacularly, but both options help us. When?”

“One more day of finals and I gotta grade them, so… friday? What’s the, that movie Porphy was interested in, that’s showing… I’ll figure out the details, don’t worry you two.” 

“I leave it in your hands.” And Oeno left to back up the other bartender and Feldspar walked back to start cooking.

Friday afternoon, Gabbro drove into the parking lot, in an easy to see spot. They had the envelope with everything, they’d even bothered to get the car cleaned, and the last finals were done so it was officially break. 

And Outer Wilds Tacos was parked around the side already. They walked in, into the bar area.

Gossan was leaning down a little in the truck, talking with Porphy. Oeno saw them, and was hovering in the doorway. 

Gabbro walked up, grinning, and clapped Porphy on the shoulder, causing them to jump and then both them and Gossan to scowl at them. 

“You’re not working today.”

“If you’re gonna drink here, I’m not giving you special service.”

“I am working today! Gossan get out of the truck.”

“You- hey!” Feldspar grabbed them and dragged their younger sibling out of the truck and around the front. 

“What’s this about, Gabbro.” They put a hand on either shoulder, still grinning.

“You two have been flirting for ages and everyone’s sick of it. That last hatchling you hired found someone and started dating them in the time you two have been flirting.”

“You better not-”

“So we made a decision. You two are going on a date tonight. Here is tickets to that movie you wanted to see and money for snacks, here are the keys to my car, don’t crash it.”

“We’re not hatchlings.” Gossan was mad but Gabbro didn’t have to care.

“Then stop acting like it! Go, movie starts in an hour.” Gabbro shoved both of them away from the truck and swung themself inside as Feldspar locked the door behind them. 

Oeno had approached. “I can handle everything with Sap, Porphy. Go, enjoy yourselves.”

“Were you in on this?”

“That answer will change depending on my employment status after.” Gossan had given up, and dragged Porphy out before they could answer.

Once Feldspar was driving again Gabbro checked their phone to see a message from Porphy from an hour earlier. ‘We’re dating now thanks a lot tell feldspar theyre sleeping at your place’

‘Wow kicking them out of their own home?’

“No gossan’s just mad still’ “Feldspar sounds like you’re crashing at my place. I’ll get the couch made up.” That got a little groan, but they were grinning as they pulled into the shop. 

“What, no spare bed?”

“I’m not putting you in Granite’s room and the alternative is my bed, so.”

“Couch is fine.”

Psst, Poison, could I draw some random stuff from your OuterWilds TacoShop AU?

please

go ahead, have fun, you never need to ask to draw that! Thank you!

[mntcoronet]

ok I know I don't trust this guy but also. THE WHAT

[nodistinction-noproblem]

Queerplatonic Fiction Recs

My plea for queerplatonic fiction has garnered some attention, so here is a post compiling all of the recs I've received! I will be updating this list if/when more recs come in, and I will link this post in my pinned.

I have not read all of these so I haven't vetted them for anything, these are just provided as they were given to me! All I know is that these works are said to include relationships that center and/or discuss QPRs and other nonromantic committed relationships. The summaries are from the website from which I link the work.

If your recommendation didn't make it, it may have not been what I was looking for, or I just missed it!

Recommendations are alphabetically sorted, first by fandom and then by title.

Fanfiction

Here's Your Room Key, The Pool Closes At Ten. (Ben 10 Series; Generator Rex). Rex finds out that Ben is once again running wild, but he can’t quite see what exactly is supposed to be going on with him. And on the other hand, Rex has got his own feelings he needs to worry about keeping in check.

I Don't Need No Fairytale. (BTS). Prince Park Jimin is fed up of being foisted off on whichever suitor his mother has found for him this week. He knows he has a responsibility to continue the royal line, but he's aromantic, and he can't bring himself to tell his mother the truth. When he runs into a masked stranger who also happens to be aspec at the annual masquerade ball, Jimin comes up with a plan that might just save them both - that is, if two aspecs who have only just met can convincingly pull off a fake relationship well enough to fool the entire court.

Different Kinds of Partners. (Daredevil). “Look, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but, like, the pitter-patter heart thing? It’s not the end all, be all. It’s not an automatic trump card. Like, I’ve had the pitter-patter heart thing for lots of people, and those people? They’re not nearly as important to me as Nelson and Murdock. I don’t want to be partners and fight crime and - and narrate the action scenes in Jurassic Park with all the pitter patter heart people.”

A Place To Call Home. (The Flash). "I don't normally do this, but I was watching the two of you, and... can I buy you both a drink?" - Cisco probably shouldn't laugh because it isn't really funny. But he chuckles in amusement all the same. "Is that really what you want to open with, Lisa?"

Armageddon Revised. (The Flash). Fic Series.

A retelling of the Armageddon Flash event that patches a number of plot holes, establishes Eobard as the definitive villain of the arc, introduces a new villain for the series proper, has a longer bad future arc, presents an evil plan that actually makes sense, includes more queer characters in the Flash's main cast, and pushes back against the gross amatanormativity from the fourth episode of the mini-series.

Comfort Levels. (The Flash; Arrow). Oliver's just figured out he's aromantic. Now comes the hard part: telling his boyfriend. He doesn't want their relationship to change - it's not like he's actually different all of a sudden. But... what if Barry thinks he is?

I'll Show You Mine. (The Flash; DC's Legends of Tomorrow). The kiss was a distraction. Len doesn't know why it's bothering Mick so much. Not when there are real things to be mad about.

Mending Wall. (The Flash; DC's Legends of Tomorrow). Two broken people reconnect, try to fix each other's lives, and learn that they can only do that themselves.

Missy Verse. (The Flash). Fic Series. Examines Lisa's journey to figuring out she's aromantic and eventually coming out, the balance between Hartley and Cisco's romance and their growing queer platonic relationship with Lisa, and the insecurities the three of them all deal with from to time as they form their own family together.

Fake Dating AU. (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga.) Fic Series. When Ling first suggested fake dating as a way of getting free food, he hadn't expected it to end up like this.

Friends of the Soul. (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga). Ever since Greed was torn out of his body, Ling’s mind has felt empty and silent, but even still, his heart has never been more full.

A Life Full of Love. (Harry Potter). An aromantic asexual Harry’s journey to finding himself and finding his place in life.

Like a Dream I Can Reach (but not quite hold). (Harry Potter). Harry spends his life waiting for something he isn’t entirely sure he wants, and looking for something he doesn’t know exists. Everything feels ill-fitting until Draco Malfoy enters his life and shows Harry he doesn’t have to want the expected things, and Harry learns happiness doesn't have to look a certain way.

There Isn’t a Word for What We’ve Got. (Harry Potter). Five people who misunderstood Sirius’ relationship with Remus and one two who didn’t.

Restatement of Home. (The Magnus Archives). Meeting an old acquaintance again can be a bit of a culture shock. Instantly clicking again with your old ride or die… is a different sort of shock entirely.

Blank Slate, Artificial Boxes. (The Murderbot Diaries). [...] “Because I’m aromantic.” - That… shouldn’t have been surprising, actually. And it was something we had in common, as much as I was loath to admit having something in common with Gurathin. And - well, it did have something to do with this. “That has nothing to do with this,” I said.

Sea Shanties. (One Piece). A collection of Luffy oneshots. Summaries of each on the individual chapters themselves.

Sorry to Bother You. (Soul Eater). Death The Kid asks Crona out on a date and, being aromantic, Crona does not know how to deal with it.

Illusion's QP Skullvin Cinematic Universe. (Splatoon). Fic Series.Skull and Vintage Ex-QPPs to QPPs again, except I've actually put the relevant fics in order to make it easier to read, yay!

The Instinct of the Blind Insect. (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine). Garak is just trying to help. Odo jumps to conclusions. Both come to (embarrassingly sincere) personal revelations.

New Year's Traditions. (Star Wars: The Clone Wars; Star Wars Prequel Trilogy). Cody and Obi-Wan spend the last day of the Coruscanti year together teaching Cody how to make a traditional pastry from Stewjon.

|no war to reach you, no bolt to keep you| (Star Wars). Cody closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. It was just a little strange, perhaps, to be cared for this way. A warmth of a different kind than that he’d felt all his life for his brothers; and something entirely different than the love, he’d come to realize, which romance holos and some of his aforementioned brothers spoke of.

Platonic. (Tales of Graces). [...] coming out as aromantic and asexual isn't exactly easy when [Asbel's] brother is a pedant and a know-it-all who thinks amoeba jokes are funny and his childhood best friend would rather try to 'fix' him than accept that accept that her feelings aren't reciprocated. Thankfully, Asbel's got his little sister Sophie and their friends Richard, Lambda, and Pascal in his corner.

Something For His Something. (Teen Wolf). Five times Stiles asked the wrong person for advice on Jackson's birthday and one time he asked the right person.

This or That, But Always Mine. (Teen Wolf). He and Derek were not a thing. Or, okay, maybe they were kind of a thing, in a way. But they were definitely not that kind of thing. Stiles just wished everyone else could understand that.

Ratchet has acquired a reason to like Valentine's day. (Transformers). In which all the aros take shifts on Valentine’s day, Ratchet’s Valentines day ends with a Mythbusters marathon with Drift and Rodimus, no one’s quite sure what blue popcorn is all about but it’s there anyway, Ratchet is the best pillow, braiding hair is practically mandatory for a not-sleepover, [...] , and Ratchet gets a reason to like Valentine’s day every year.

Queerplatonic Prompt Fills. (Various Fandoms). Fills for the prompts posted by qpr-prompts!

Tactile. (Venom). Eddie let their fingers drift to the dark mass on their shoulder and started running them back and forth over the surface. What new human gesture was this? Was Eddie trying to tell him to go back inside? Venom did. - “Oh, sorry.” - For what. -“The…” Eddie mimed the motion he’d been making, “stroking. You didn't like it?”

Original Fiction

A Queerplatonic New Year (An Aspec for All Seasons 1) - Katie Fouks. Aromantic asexual college student Trav has never felt about someone the way he does about his soft-spoken roommate and best friend, Ollie. With his sister’s encouragement, can Trav work up the courage to ask for what he wants and get the New Year’s kiss he dreams of?

Baker Thief - Claudie Arsenault. Adèle has only one goal: catch the purple-haired thief who broke into her home and stole her exocore, thus proving herself to her new police team. Little does she know, her thief is also the local baker.

Common Bonds - Multiple Authors. Common Bonds is an anthology of speculative short stories and poetry featuring aromantic characters. At the heart of this collection are the bonds that impact our lives from beginning to end: platonic relationships. While this anthology is not entirely centered around committed non-romantic relationships, it is very very good and as someone who just finished it, I really recommend it!

Ice Castle: A Queerplatonic Love Story - Katie Fouks. Shoveling dirt over slippery patches while dressed as a Christmas fairy isn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but Rachel Forrest doesn’t mind spending another holiday season as “dirt girl” at the Ice Castle ice maze if it means she gets paid. She never expected one such patch of ice to lead her to Cassie Harlan.

If It Makes You Happy - Claire Kann. Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to her favorite place – Misty Haven and her granny’s diner, Goldeen’s. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall. …until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen.

The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells. Series. On a distant planet, a team of scientists are conducting surface tests, shadowed by their Company-supplied 'droid -- a self-aware SecUnit that has hacked its own governor module, and refers to itself (though never out loud) as "Murderbot." Scornful of humans, all it really wants is to be left alone long enough to figure out who it is.

Save the kiss for later, ‘cause the answer I seek doesn’t lie among yesterday. - SolarianVoidTheAroAce on Ao3. Starting college is a big step and a dive into a new chapter for many people. [...] It’s a “new year, new me” decision that aligns with semesters and college years instead of the common calendar. Leaving her home country to study abroad, Jerry made that decision for herself. Trying to leave his past behind himself, Jerry is determined to make his college experience worthwhile. To let those seven semesters be the first chapter of a life Jerry can truly claim her own.

The Thread That Binds - Cedar McCloud. An adult fantasy novel about queer bookbinding witches forming a found family, falling in love, and keeping their magic library out of the hands of an abuser. Centers a queerplatonic relationship.

[softsliders29]

I Thought You Hated Me (Jamie Tartt x gn!reader)

When the reader is forced to share a bed with Jamie feelings are shared.

Rating: T

Warning: small angst

A/N: Wrote something up for Jamie and will probably write something for Sam as well. But if you have any ideas or requests please send them my way!!

You were sort of Keeley’s assistant. That was your unofficial title. So you joined the team on away games. And usually you got to share a room with Keeley. Most hotels had two beds per room so you each would take a bed and stay up talking and watching tv. She was a great friend to you so you quite enjoyed the away games.

But ever since she’d started dating Roy she usually slept with him. You understood why of course, but you usually ended up bunking with whoever didn’t have a room. Sometimes it was Ted, sometimes Rebecca, sometimes it was a player. All of the time it was purely professional and nice. You each went to your separate beds and got good sleep.

But of course this time a wrench had to be thrown into the whole system. First off, you were stuck with Jamie. Sure, he was better nowadays, but you couldn’t help but still have a bit of a bad taste in your mouth when it came to him. He was a prick to you. He hadn’t been recently, but that still didn’t matter. And on top of that he had the audacity to be attractive! The nerve of that guy.

Second off, the room you got stuck with only had one bed. Well, that was just great. Everyone else had two and Ted offered to change with you, ever the gentleman, but you didn’t want him to have a hard time sleeping. He was the coach after all. You could afford to not get good sleep.

No, you just sucked it up, making your way to the room. When you walked in, Jamie was on the floor.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

“Getting settled for the night.” He said as if it was obvious.

“No, this isn’t going to work. You should take the bed. You have to play tomorrow.” You were surprised he hadn’t already taken the bed. But apparently he was reformed. This was slowly starting to make you think he was.

“Slept in worse conditions.” He shrugged. Knowing a little bit about his dad, you felt bad for him.

“That doesn’t change anything, get on the bed.” You said. He smirked.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“I’m surprised you know that word.” You said sarcastically. He only laughed but made no signs of getting up. You sighed and shook your head. “Stop being dumb. I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” You said, taking your night stuff into the bathroom.

When you exited the bathroom he was still on the floor. He got up though, but headed for the bathroom, not saying anything. You saw this as the perfect opportunity. When the door shut, you laid on the ground in the spot he’d previously been. Now he had to take the bed.

When he made his way out of the bathroom and saw you, he gave a small laugh before walking over.

“Get your ass up, we’re both sleeping in the bed.” He said, accompanying it with an eye roll. You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you sure? That wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“It’d make me more uncomfortable knowing you were sleeping on the ground. Now come on, I don’t have all night.” He said, offering a hand to pull you up. You accepted it and took the pillow with you.

“If I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re on the ground I’m dragging you back up here.” You threatened, though you knew that was probably impossible. He was a professional football player and you? Well, you weren’t.

He laughed but shook his head, moving the covers to get in after turning out the light. You joined, keeping as much distance from him as possible. He seemed to notice.

“I’m not gonna bite or anything. You don’t have to fall off the bed or anything. Or am I just that revolting to you?” He said jokingly, but it didn’t sound like he put much effort into it. You rolled over to face him.

“I don’t think you're revolting. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Would you be uncomfortable?” He asked. You thought for a moment but shook your head. “Alright then. Neither would I.” He said, gesturing for you to come closer.

You finally relented, scooting closer, but only by a few inches. He didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else on the matter.

But he wasn’t done talking.

“I know this isn’t ideal for you but it’s just for a night.” He said. You were confused at this.

“I mean, yeah, this wasn’t what I had in mind for tonight. But I wouldn’t say it’s not ideal.”

“You practically hate me. I get it, don’t get me wrong, but I figured you’d object more to this.” He said.

“I don’t hate you. I’m actually really proud to see you aren’t a prick anymore. But you were rude to me and I can’t help but be a little suspicious about the whole thing.” You said frankly. He sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry. There was no reason for it except that it made me feel a bit better. Only for a second and then I’d feel like complete shit again. But I never intend on doing that again. I’m trying to be better.”

“I can tell. I’m glad you’re trying. I’d say it’s a success.” You said with a small smile.

“I’m happy you think so.” He smiled back. You laid like that for a moment until something hit you.

“So is this ideal for you?” You questioned. He seemed to not hear at first and you were about to ask again until he finally spoke.

“What? I mean, it could be worse. I don’t mind who’s with me.” He said with a shrug. “Just thought the first time we’d share a bed would be under other circumstances.” Your eyes widened but he shook his head. “Shit sorry. Force of habit.” He quickly said.

You stayed silent for a moment and he scooted away, adding more space between the two of you. You spoke up suddenly, heartbeat running wild.

“Have you thought about that?” You asked, looking anywhere but him.

“Yeah, but I’ve thought about it with pretty much everyone. Except Ted.” He said and you laughed, though you were a bit disappointed at that.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice. But he seemed to catch it anyway.

“I keep coming back to you though.” He said and you met his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Because I think you’re amazing. And funny. ...And fit.” He admitted. You laughed at the last bit. But it did make your face heat up. You hoped he didn’t notice in the darkness of the room.

“High praise. Thanks.” You said. “But I think you’re amazing too. You’re strong, not just physically, but mentally too.” You said. “And you’re not bad looking either.”

You could see his smile in the darkness, brighter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. You nodded, moving closer.

He cupped your face and kissed you. It was passionate, laced with words unspoken. Feelings just now realized. It was breathtaking.

You both pulled back after a few moments, but neither of you moved too far away from each other.

“I really like you. After the game can I take you on a proper date?” He asked.

“I’d love that.” You said.

You kissed a few more times before sleep took you both. You woke up to his arms around you. You wouldn’t mind waking up like that more often, you thought to yourself. And you couldn’t wait until your date.

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[chloe-online]

loved and i lost

hi, atm chris is my comfort character (its bc of re vendetta rbjhe) so i wanted to write a lil something :) honestly with everything going on rn im not putting too much effort into it (hence the title) and i do apologize for that. also want to mention i probably didn't paragraph right but ignore it. i hope you enjoy anyway!

pairing: Chris redfield x fem!reader

its been four months. four months since you got that call from the BSAA breaking the news to you. ever since your life hasnt been the same. Chris Redfield, the love of your life, died on his mission and his body wasnt recovered. you couldnt even have closure, all you were told is that he was gone.

you let out a sigh at the memory. you were trying your best to take care of yourself but it was just really hard. having chris in your life meant that you had someone to look up to, someone to work for, but now that someone is gone.

you sighed, pouring the milk into your cheerios. if chris was here you would've cooked a proper meal, but cereal was easiest and it filled you up just enough that it would last you till tomorrow.

you sat out on the porch slowly lifting the spoon up to your mouth over and over. you looked up to the sky, there wasn't a star in sight. the stars were shimmering, and it made you take your meal and go back inside. you couldn't handle the memory of eating under the stars with chris.

you flushed your cereal down the toilet and went to place your bowl in the sink, which was overflowing with dirty dishes. you meant to do them but everytime you tried you physically couldn't. while you piling your empty bowl in the sink you decided that a shower was well needed.

you made your way to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. your hair was a mess, you've been wearing the same clothes for 3 days, and your face was smeared with makeup you tried doing earlier. you wanted to try and make yourself presentable because leon said he was coming over but you realized you couldn't let anyone see the state you were living in, so you canceled your plans with him and apologized.

you turned the water on, stripped yourself, and stepped into the warm shower. you just stood there for a few moments, soaking in the warmth. you were in and out in the span of 5ish minutes, you just wanted to clean yourself up a little bit and the warm water did that just fine.

you slipped into some black shorts and one of chris' shirts. it still smelled like him and it soothed you but at the same time it brought tears to your eyes. you missed him so much, it hurt. you curled up into bed and cuddled your blanket as if it was him. you couldn't stop the tears, they just kept coming.

you stayed like this for a long while. since you didn't finish what was supposed to be your dinner you thought it might be a good idea to get a small snack before you go to bed. as your feet touched the carpet you heard glass shatter from across the house.

there was no way it was leon or claire, they had a key so they would've came in through the front door. someone broke in. you scurried into the bathroom and locked the door. you put the passcode in on your phone and called chris' number, you knew he wouldn't pick up but you liked to leave voicemails, it made you feel safe. you tried your best to be quiet but you were crying and your voice was shakey.

"hi chris, i know you'll never get this but just pretending to talk to you is enough for me. someones in the house, I'm scared but i think I'm safe. i love you, i miss you so much baby," you managed to muster. you hung up and put your phone away.

it was silent for a while so you figured you'd just go check it out and if you felt uneasy, or if you knew someone was there still you'd call 911. the door opened with a creak and you tiptoed out to the kitchen.

you thought the coast was clear so you leaned your back onto the kitchen island, debating if you should continue to look around or if you should just lock yourself in the bathroom and deal with it in the morning. but when you put your back to the island it was already too late.

someone crept up from the other side and in seconds you were unconscious.

_________________________________________________

".... i love you, i miss you so much baby." *voicemail ends*

chris let out an angry sigh, this mission was too much. he knew he had to go make sure y/n was okay. her voice was shaky, and she sounded very scared.

four months ago he was assigned to a mission where he had to fake his death. ever since he'd get voicemails and text messages from you. it broke his heart to see how sad you were. this job was very important but he thought that you deserved to know that he was okay, it should've been like that from the beginning.

"hq I'm going home, i will be back."

"Alpha you cannot just abandon your post, this mission is important."

"i don't fucking care! i have to go make sure y/n is okay. someone broke in. canine and umber eyes are taking over till I'm back." Chris just hoped he wasnt too late

_________________________________________________

you were drugged, blindfolded, and tied up to one of the dining chairs. you could only hear them taking valuables, digging through drawers, cabinets, and any other storage unit you had. they paused and you could hear them pick up a picture frame and chuckle under their breath.

"well well, you're chris redfields girl? you're a fucking mess! there's no fucking way he put up with you. maybe that's why he died," those words hit pretty hard. tears threatened to start falling again. your lack of response clearly pissed him off.

"its your fault he's gone y'know, let that sink in. if you were good enough he'd still be here!" at this point he was grabbing your face, taunting you. he was obviously just trying to hurt your feelings, and it worked. satisfied with what he did, he threw your head back and let go.

"pathetic," at that moment there was a knock at the door. the robber voiced a very confused 'what the fuck?' you heard the door creak open followed by a loud thud. it sounded like someone hit the floor. grunts and sounds of fighting filled the room.

'is leon here to help me?' the sounds of fighting came to a stop and footsteps were heading your way. you felt a oddly familiar hand touch your shoulder.

"please don't hurt me, i don't want to leave my friends, we need each other."

"hey, hey baby its me," your blindfold was torn off and your eyes were met with chris' soft brown ones. once you were free of the chair you clung to Chris and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i thought you were gone, i missed you so much," you guys just held each other for a while. you pushed away and pulled chris into a kiss, which he gladly returned the favor.

"I'll explain what happened, i promise. just please come with me," you instantly agreed. chris was here and you couldn't be happier.

sorry for any typos, i hope you enjoyed!

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (ii)

part one | part three

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

—warnings: fluff (dad! levi) and an original character that was annoying to write

— summary: altair came home, only to find a thorn wedged in his little family.

— word count: 5.5k

— authors note’s: i finally have a sort of banner hhhhsdjwhd i figured that i should make one for every character that i’ll be writing in this blog so that i won’t run out of gifs. this is long overdue but i was writing this while having breaks from our backlogs the past week. happy reading !!

Levi Ackerman never liked waiting but when it comes to the only living memory he has of you, he was willing to stay under the harsh glare of the Sun’s rays.

He was only standing among the other people waiting for their family members and friends for about thirty minutes and he was already cursing California’s weather. He needed some rain once in a while. As he looked down on the asphalt, the white plane he was anticipating finally landed, the steps rolled down and various people started trickling out. Though his face remained stoic, Levi still craned his neck to get a glimpse of his boy (curse the people standing in front of him, making him realize he’s smaller compared to them), hair the same cut as him and a bright grin that matched the bright California Sun. Eight weeks was a long time and the sight of Altair Ackerman adjusting the duffel bag over his shoulder was making his heart melt.

Was his little boy growing so fast? Because Levi swore there was a new air surrounding his son, the older man watching Altair looking at him all star-struck. 

With a small smile, Levi spread his arms wide and called out, “Come here, brat." He was already anticipating the barreling boy heading straight for him. With a grunt, Levi wrapped his son in a tight hug, lifting him from the ground and planting a kiss on his forehead. Weird, the little boy of eleven always whined about his kisses, saying that he was already nearing his puberty and that he didn’t need them anymore. Levi brushed the thought from his mind, thinking that Altair probably received the kiss because of homesickness, and placed his son on the ground. 

A few seconds passed by and the young Ackerman only stared up at his father like he carried a thousand Suns on his shoulders. Tears were slowly building up in his eyes, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist and nuzzling his head against his father’s toned stomach. Levi smiled gently, placing one of his hands on Altair’s hair, ruffling it until they’re tousled. “You miss me that much, Al? Well, I kind of agree. Sending you off to the other side of the country was my biggest regret this summer.” When Altair looked up, Levi couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“So, Dad, how’s everybody at home?” Altair asked, staying close at his father’s side while the black-haired man wrapped his arm around the little boy’s shoulders. “How are Petra and Uncle Eyebrows doing?”

Levi had to hold back his small scoff of laughter. “Petra is fine, she’s doing a number on the house because you’re finally home. Eyebrows will be visiting tomorrow but there’s a package from him waiting for you in your room as we speak.” He pushed the button of his car keys, unlocking their Jeep Wrangler and walking away for a moment to place his son’s bag in the backseat. “In short, they’re great and they can’t wait to see you.” He glanced at his little boy, who was standing patiently, and instantly thought that the summer camp mellowed out his brazen personality. Nodding his head towards the car, the two of them immediately set off to their part of town. “A lot has been happening around here during the eight weeks you were away. So don’t be surprised at what you’ll find at the house when we go back home.”

“A lot has happened to me, too, Dad,” Altair stated, his eyes focused on the cityscape passing by. He turned to his father with a half-smile. “I feel like I changed to be a more rational person.”

“Wow, summer camp was a good thing for you, huh?” Levi answered, silver eyes on the road ahead. “To think you said that. You must be getting old. Please don’t, I much preferred you to be my little boy for as long as it will take. What got you thinking this way when you’re at camp?”

The little boy shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just, seeing you for the first time,” he saw how Levi glanced at him so he quickly picked up, “in a long while made me realize a few things, Dad.”

“Wow, you sound so grown-up. It’s almost like you’re a new person.”

Altair froze for a moment before laughing. “By the way, Dad, you look taller to me earlier, too.”

“You didn’t have to go there, brat.” A comfortable silence enveloped the father and son until, “Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s some Oreos in the dash. You’re probably hungry after the flight.”

The raven-haired boy didn’t think twice in opening the compartment in front of him, gleefully clutching the pack of Oreos his father bought for him. After thanking Levi, Altair stuffed his face with the decadent biscuits that the former couldn’t prevent his small laughs from coming out. His son was a tough cookie but when it comes to his favorite treats, he instantly turns into a gushing, excited kid his age. 

It reminded him of you actually. 

As the tall buildings turned into lush green sceneries, his mind drifted to the memories he always clung to at random times. This time was one of those random moments when his mind was filled with thoughts of you. The divorce hit him like a thick wall but he couldn’t deny that he agreed to it because he knew you were happier with that. Who knows? You could be married to another person in your home country and Levi didn’t have a clue, mainly because he had to put up this façade that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. He felt guilty seconds after telling Petra to take down any framed pictures of you around the house because he couldn’t fathom looking at your beautiful face again. But as they entered the emerald sea of tea trees, Levi played the memory of when you first met. It was by chance, really — he just happened to be at the same place at the same time with you during college. He remembered how you effortlessly carried yourself without a care, how you listened to your friend blabber about certain topics.

For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

It was safe to say that Levi felt an arrow passing by his chest and suddenly, all he could think about is you.

“The plantation is absolutely breathtaking, Dad.”

Altair’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his eyes glancing at the little boy who was in a trance while staring into the tea trees. He slightly furrowed his eyebrows at the use of vocabulary. While watching his son grow up, he never once heard him exclaim his awe of things that way. There are exceptions, of course, but not that much. It almost sounded like how you would always describe Levi’s eyes, sending the gray-eyed man’s heart thumping in his chest at the mere thought of it. He tried calming down his fast heartbeat but to no avail as he kept picturing you with the softest eyes, feather-like hands, and voice suited for a lullaby that were always the subjects of his dreams at night. Those dreams were mainly the reason why he chose not to sleep, spending the early morning hours in the kitchen while indulging in his son’s favorite combination, which is disgusting but tastes so well together. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and responded a hum to what his son said.

“You sound like you haven’t seen the plantation in forever,” Levi joked, missing how Altair once again froze, the latter’s eye twitching as he squirmed in his seat.

“Uhm, I think it’s because I’m so used to tall trees the past eight weeks, Dad.” Altair laughed lightheartedly, dismissively waving his hand. “But,” he prolonged the word, “if there’s something at camp that stresses me out, I’ll just picture our plantation in my mind. It sort of gives me peace for a couple of minutes until a brat comes up to me, challenging my position as the fencing champion for one week.”

“A fencing challenge?”

“Yeah, Dad, he was pretty awesome,” Altair shrugged.

“So you made a friend?”

The little boy turned to the dark-haired man with an expression of disbelief. “Your tone sounds like you don’t believe me. Have you no faith in your son, Dad?”

Levi scoffed a laugh. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m genuinely curious about this brat you’re talking about and how he challenged you for the title of fencing champion in the summer camp. I don’t know,” he shrugged, one hand raised in the air, “does he even treat you well? Or was he scared because of how you look at people? You got that from me apparently. I just don’t want my brat being shunned by others, okay? I was actually worried the whole time you’re away. Worried for the people there, that is. Because they’re missing out on this amazing boy.”

The older Ackerman’s rambles made Altair chuckle. There was always something when his dad took off in the worried state — it made his heart warm and he couldn’t help but answer the main question posed by Levi. Altair hummed under his breath, eyes set on the roof of the car, phrasing his answer so that it wouldn’t reveal too much. Stuffing an Oreo in his mouth, he muttered. “Actually, he was courteous, Dad.”

The dark-haired man glanced at his son, shaking his head at how the crumbs clung to the side of Altair’s mouth. Taking one of his hands from the steering wheel when he saw they were the only ones driving under the canopy of trees, Levi reached out and quickly cleaned his son’s face free of Oreo crumbs. Going back to focusing on the road, he slightly smiled, voicing out his question, “'Courteous’?” Levi turned to his son, who was conspicuously grimacing and hiding it by eating another Oreo. “What, all of a sudden you’re so proper?” The man’s gray eyes flickered to his son’s fingers. Taking the boy’s hand, he examined them for a moment before going back to the road. “You’re still biting your nails, huh?”

Altair perked up, his voice becoming pitchy, covering it with a cough. “Dad, you noticed!”

“What do you mean by ‘noticed’? You’ve been biting them since you could chew. The number of times we had to tell you to stop is ingrained in my brain so why would I only notice that now?”

The onyx-haired boy turned his body so that he would be directly facing Levi. Blinking, he escaped his dad’s question with a, “But I’ve decided to stop it, Dad. I finally realized how horrid it is as a habit, Dad.”

“There you go again. ‘Courteous’, ‘horrid’. I’m pretty sure I didn’t send you to finishing school.” Levi smiled. “And why do you keep saying ‘Dad’ in every sentence? Not that I don’t like it but I just noticed it since your plane landed.”

Altair chuckled lowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing it, Dad.” When Levi made a full laugh, the little boy grinned. “So sorry, Dad.” The two shared a few laughs before Altair cleared his throat. “Do you know why I kept saying ‘Dad’? You want the truth?”

“’Cause you missed your old man so much?”

A sad smile painted the gray-eyed boy’s lips, making sure that Levi didn’t turn his head to catch his melancholic mood. He chose to look out the window to avoid tearing up while staring at his father’s side profile. “Exactly. It’s because my whole life,” he cursed at the slip-up, “I mean, you know, for the past eight weeks, I was never able to say the word ‘Dad’ at all. Not even once. If you ask me, a father is an irreplaceable person in a kid’s life. The friend who challenged me to a fencing competition had no father to take care of them, to see them take their first steps or hear their first words. It got me thinking that there are probably kids my age who didn’t see their fathers even once, let alone call someone ‘Dad’. I mean, there’s this whole day dedicated to celebrating all the fathers in the world. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, Dad. I couldn’t imagine not saying ‘Hi, Dad!’ or ‘How’s the tea shop, Dad?’. Something will always be missing if I didn’t have you.”

Levi’s heart melted, his insides turning into a gushing mess at the words of his son. He couldn’t even imagine his life without his little him, following around like a lost duckling when he was a toddler learning how to walk. He couldn’t imagine his days without his boy reaching his chubby arms just for him to lift his cuddly body in his arms. He couldn’t imagine his nights without reading a bedtime story to a drowsy Altair, eyes looking at him as if every story is worth listening to. The first part of Altair’s little monologue reminded him of the other bundle of joy that the nurse gave him when you gave birth all those years ago. He swore that day that he will shower equal love and affection on his two brats but it turns out, it wasn’t meant to be. The other half of Altair was far into the sea with you and there was a time that he wanted to visit, however, the strength never came into him. But for now, he was thankful that Altair got home safe and sound, no scratches and face lighting up with precious emotions.

“Holy shit.”

Levi laughed at the curse. “Now you’re sounding like your old self.”

Altair’s eyes widened at the arch welcoming the car to the estate. Your name was in bold letters, vines of vibrantly colored flowers making the entrance even more magical. The little boy glanced at Levi and he could see how the older man’s eyes turned soft at the name, his shoulders drooping slightly as if he finally entered into an ethereal place. Facing forward, Altair had a conclusion. Levi Ackerman, his father, is still very much in love with you, his mother. His insides were buzzing with excitement and he couldn’t wait to phone someone from across the sea at his discovery. The plan was coming together and he didn’t even start a thing.

The house was more than what was described to the gray-eyed boy. Every wall was covered with groomed vines, splashes of color can be seen because of the flowers growing between the greens. It looked like a manor in those romance movies he watched a few years back. A balcony above the main doorway overlooked the driveway and front yard. The air was so clean that the little boy rolled down the windows and took a deep breath, the therapeutic yet faint smell of tea wafting through the perimeter of the house. Without another word, Altair stepped out of the car once Levi parked it at the side of the front yard. His eyes were full of stars as he looked up at the two-story building in front of him, the maroon of the bricks and the green of the vines calming his pounding heartbeat in the best way possible. A bark from the balcony made him crane his head, the fur of a golden retriever catching his eye. 

He was finally here — he was home.

“Oh, my God, he’s home!”

A shout came from the inside of the house, shocking Altair from eyeing the canine on the balcony. He could faintly hear Levi snickering behind him as the older man took out his bag from the backseat of the car. A woman of short strawberry blonde hair was running towards him, under the arched front door, and then engulfing him in a warm hug with her thin yet firm arms. This must be Petra, his nanny and head maid of the household. He reciprocated the embrace, nuzzling his head on the woman’s neck. She smelled of spice and a hint of orange and Altair found himself craving some juice in an instant. Pulling away from the woman, he found out how pretty she is. Freckles dotted her cheeks, eyelashes framing warm brown irises, and a smile that can blind him at any second.

“Look at you!” Petra tried measuring Altair’s height with a hand, exclaiming, “Oh, you grew! We miss you so much!” Patting the boy’s shoulders with her hands, she leveled her stare with Altair. “Don’t you dare let your old man talk you out of going back to camp, okay? You need adventure every once in a while.”

“Okay.”

“You hungry?”

Altair shrugged with a smile.

“I made cornbread, chili, and I squeezed some orange for some juice, too.” Petra noticed how Altair kept staring at her with a sad smile, piquing her interest. “Hey, bud, why are you so quiet? Is something wrong?”

“I think he needs to take a shit from all the traveling,” Levi interjected, the orange duffel bag on his shoulder and one of his hands inside a pocket of his jeans. 

“No!” Altair yelled, cheeks aflame with heat, and eyes flittering between the two laughing adults. “I don’t feel like taking a shit … it’s just, I,” he paused, inhaling tea-scented air, “I just miss home so much and I’m happy to finally be here.” 

With Petra’s arm wrapped around Altair’s shoulders, the two followed Levi into the house. The strawberry blonde woman kept glancing at the little boy at her side, sensing something amiss from how he acted. There was something not clicking for Petra and it flared, even more, when Levi’s dog, Captain, came running from the second floor to give Altair a welcoming. Only it wasn’t that warm and cuddly welcome the boy received from the two adults, it was full of barks and growls from the golden retriever directed towards Altair. Pushing the doubts from her mind, Petra had to intervene since Captain showed no sign of stopping and Altair was stuck on the wall.

“What is wrong with you, you goofball,” Petra scolded the dog, gently putting her hands on the canine’s head and ruffling his fur. “This is Altair.”

“I think it’s because I smell like camp,” Altair murmured, stepping away from the dog with small steps until he found himself in the living room. Behind him, Petra was telling the dog that it seems like he doesn’t recognize one of his owners and Altair took everything inside him not to flinch at the remark. However, the interior design of the living room caught his eye and the worries building up inside his mind vanished in an instant. There was a huge fireplace in front of an arranged long couch and armchairs. Paintings were placed immaculately around the room, matching with the color palette of browns and beiges. Overall, it looked like a manor and Altair was in awe that he spoke in a British accent, forgetting his crafted persona. “Wow, this is better than the pictures.”

“Kiddo, what do you want to do first?” Petra called out as she entered the living room. She straightened one throw pillow on the long couch before turning to the little boy who schooled his features into a blank one. “Do you want to eat and then unpack, or we could unpack and eat? Or we could eat while we unpack.”

“You mean I can eat in my room?”

Petra furrowed her brows, crossing her arms across her chest. “Well, yeah, that’s a definite possibility.”

“Al,” Levi shouted from the kitchen, hands occupied with a bowl of chili and a spoon. “When you’re done, come on down. I want you to meet someone.” Levi glanced at Petra, who was pursing her lips, knowing who this person Altair’s going to be introduced to. The gray-eyed man narrowed his eyes slightly as if telling his friend to not tell the boy before him. “The chili’s good, Petra, thank you.” He then turned around to get some more chili for the guest, brushing off how Petra rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Dad!” Altair yelled.

“Okay, Al,” Levi replied, a smile can be heard in his voice.

The little boy’s eye followed his father until he went out the patio with two bowls of chili. Everything blanked out when he saw Levi placing one of the bowls in front of a woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress. Altair couldn’t see the face of the woman but he could tell she was way younger than his dad. Levi kept standing at the other side of the table, with the woman leaning forward, probably trying to impress his father.

“Hello, handsome,” the woman said in a sultry voice.

“Hello,” Levi replied in a flat voice, hands gripping his bowl of chili.

“So did you tell him?”

“I was getting to that but he was tired and he needs to unpack. It won’t hurt to be patient since you’re only a guest here.”

The woman scoffed. “And chili? Really, Levi?”

“Mr. Ackerman.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Tch.”

Altair leaned towards Petra’s side, dropping his voice in a whisper. “Tell me what?”

“We’ll talk about this in your room, Al,” Petra whispered right back, steering the boy to the stairs but not before glancing back at the two people on the patio. She hoped Levi will take care of this situation before it gets worse. “Even though your father told me with a glare to never tell you this first, I might have to because we don’t want you snapping at that woman. It’s best to keep a clear mind when around her.”

Altair dropped his duffel bag on the floor when they finally entered the safety of his room. There was a wrapped parcel with a card saying, ‘welcome home’, and Altair concluded that this was Erwin’s gift. Petra and he sat on the floor, the woman opening the bag and taking out the topmost items. She handed the camera to a distressed Altair, pursing her lips at how the boy’s thoughts can be seen in his eyes. While she was taking out some of his clothes, Altair stood up and went to his window overlooking the wide backyard. The little boy’s eyebrows met again in a glare that mirrored his father’s too much as he looked down from his window, distaste, and confusion evident on his scowl. Petra sighed, knowing that if Altair wasn’t told what the truth is, he will be in one of his moods where not even a plate of chili and a pack of Oreos can quell his snappy attitude.

“Trust your dad, kiddo,” the strawberry blonde tried for a casual tone.

“Who’s that?”

“That woman is Cynthia Maryland from San Francisco,” Petra answered, patting her lap from imaginary dust, and crossed the room to stand beside the boy. “She was this publicist, or so she claims, and tried to strike a deal with your dad regarding the ongoing popularity of your tea shop and its branches. That is why I told you to watch what you say to her, just a snap of her fingers and she will paint the tea shop and your family in a bad light. But it seems like she’s selling something other than tea.” The two of them watched the Cynthia woman try to wrap her arm around Levi’s, the latter snatching his limb at the speed of light and walked ahead, ignoring the whines of the young woman as he relayed the ideas that revolved around her work. The message that Levi wasn’t interested in her didn’t reach the brunette woman, following him with eyes filled with faux adoration that made the two grimace. “Ugh, disgusting. She’s taking the word desperate to another whole level.”

Altair narrowed his eyes. “I think the word desperate has her picture on the internet. Why is she so adamant?”

“Of course, it is. Look at it this way; your father is this grumpy, middle-aged, short man and that woman is a young, pretty thing begging for his time of the day. Who in their right mind would try to suck up to him these days? I mean, not that I was describing Levi as this unattractive man but I saw her in the city bank last time I was out for groceries, and let me tell you, that woman is a snake trying to check your dad’s worth. Al, do you think there’s really something going on between them?”

“So she wants him for his money?”

Petra nodded, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “That’s about right, kiddo.”

“Does he like her?”

“You have to hear from your dad about that.”

And that was what Altair wanted to know, giving Petra a quick wave and running downstairs to where the woman had his father in her clutches after changing into some swimming shorts and a shirt. There was no way that this was happening. His father who didn’t bat an eyelash on any woman the past eleven years was giving this stranger attention. Everything in the plan will be in shambles if this goes on. The poor boy’s mind was a mess and it became worse when he stepped out into the pool, the sight of his father standing beside the lounging chair with the young woman lying on it like she owned the house. His father’s back was to him so he couldn’t discern what expression he had as he stared down at the woman flaunting her figure for all the plants in the poolside to see. The woman was talking about something until Altair caught her eye, the little boy controlling himself from flinching.

“There’s the little man of the hour!” Cynthia gleefully announced, waving her hand high in the air.

Levi turned around and his hardened gaze became soft at his panting son. Glancing at the woman on the chair with unreadable eyes, he murmured, “I’ll be back with the new brew. You can keep my son company while he swims.” He tenderly ruffled Altair’s hair as he passed by the boy, giving him a rare, breathtaking smile. “Behave, Al.”

The woman grumbled along the lines of not introducing her to Altair but she quickly changed her face into a kind one as she faced the boy. Upon seeing the blank expression on the gray-eyed boy, Cynthia tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Hey, sweetie,” her eye twitched when Altair visibly scrunched his nose in disgust, “my name is Cynthia Maryland and I’m a special friend of your father’s.” She sat up in the lounge chair, straightening her posture to make an impression on the kid. With an award-winning smile, Cynthia continued, “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Altair Ackerman that everyone has been talking about. I actually looked forward to this all summer!”

“Really? Well, here I am.”

Cynthia cleared her throat at the still icy look Altair was giving her. “You’re so adorable. The way your father talked about you, I was expecting a sweet little toddler but here you are, already nearing adolescence. The way he talked about how you’re the most special person in his life right now, it’s so heartwarming and probably the reason why I like him.” Altair rose an eyebrow at this. “Enough about me, the spotlight is on you, young man.”

“I’m nearing twelve.” Altair tilted his head. “How old are you?”

Cynthia giggled. “Twenty-four.”

A fake gasp rang through the air. “Only thirteen years older than me. You’re practically my older sister. You know, I never had a sibling. Must be nice to be recognized by Dad and be well-acquainted with the rest of the family members before you get adopted. It’s a good thing Dad’s the one adopting you. He takes great care of our dog so I’m sure he’ll take care of you like he takes care of Captain, too.”

“Excuse me?”

A ringing phone broke the conversation, the noise coming from Cynthia’s glittery purse. The brunette suppressed a groan of annoyance, schooling her features in a close-lipped smile while taking out her phone. Altair didn’t think twice turning around and sitting at the edge of the pool. His eyes never strayed from the blue waters, ears perked up to eavesdrop from the pesky woman. If a stranger saw him at the moment, one would think he was thinking of murdering the pool but he never strayed his gaze from the water, his low laugh of disbelief ringing through the vicinity at the woman’s words. It seems like she was telling someone off and that she was taking care of things perfectly in the Ackerman estate.

“I’m sorry to inform you but Levi will be out of the country at the date of your visit. I’ll call you later, bye.” Cynthia sat up on the chair, placing both of her elbows on top of her knees, and leaning forward to regard the little boy who swiveled his head too quickly when he heard his father going out of the country. “So, Al, how was camp? Was it fabulous?”

 “Dad is flying out of the country? For what?”

Cynthia laughed, glancing at her phone. “Oh, no. I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something. You know, Al, I have never heard a man talk about his son the way that Levi talks about you. You two are incredibly close but seeing the two of you together, well, it’s like he has a little him.”

“Well, we’re closer than close.” Altair stood up from the side of the pool and took his shirt off, leaving him in his swimming trunks. Glancing at the woman, who was faking a smile, he responded with a fake one as well. “We’re all each other has like always.” He made a cannonball in the pool, splashing water everywhere. There was a shriek of surprise from Cynthia, screaming about her designer dress and make-up, to which Altair didn’t hold back his smirk. Emerging to the surface, he shook his head before planting an innocent smile on his face. “Sorry. Did you get wet, Cecilia?”

“It’s Cynthia!”

“Oh, my bad, Cindy.”

Cynthia groaned in aggravation, her kind façade dropping. “And it just splashed on my clothes. Don’t worry about it, Al.” She tried making herself presentable again with a strained smile. Her hand raked through her curled brown locks, ruffling them for a little volume and flipping them over her shoulder. She walked towards the side of the pool, her heels clanking against the stoneworks. It was Altair’s least favorite sound now, along with her horrendous giggles that were too high and pitchy. He’d rather prefer your soft laughs that seem to sound like fairies but that thought was interrupted when Cynthia crouched in front of Altair, her smile hiding something sinister behind those bloody red lips. “Hey, guess what. I know your dad has been lonely—“

“He’s not lonely,” Altair cut off with a blank face.

“I know he’s not lonely,” Cynthia rolled her eyes. “But your mother has been out of the picture the moment you were born. It appeared to me that she couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking care of an infant so she left.” 

Lies.

“Levi told me one time while we were riding about out how lonely he was without someone to lay in bed or to make love with.” 

Disgusting.

“So I expressed my feelings for him because the more time we spent together, the more time I fell in love with a man like your father. He was everything.” 

Do you mean, he has the money?

“I was genuinely surprised when he told me he felt the same way and before you knew it, we were dating. He told me while on a date last week that he wishes for you, Al, to have a mother’s love and affection, and with it, he proposed to me.” 

Bloody woman, she’s ruining the plan!

“I would like to be a great mother to you, Altair Ackerman. I would shower you with all the love your mother couldn’t give you because she’s too selfish.”

A static noise rang around Altair, his eyes murderous on the smug woman by the pool.

“I have the new brew—Al, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Levi slid his sharp eyes on Cynthia. “What did you tell my son?

Her grin was like the devil. “Nothing, Levi, just the truth.”

Altair only looked down with gritted teeth and teary eyes, murmuring along the lines of, “Mum is not selfish. She’s every good thing here.”

That night, Altair locked himself in the bathroom, his phone in hand. Dialing a very familiar number, he waited for the other person to pick up with half-lidded eyes. When his voice answered the phone, Altair immediately dropped his American accent. “It’s me. We have a major problem here. A pest made herself known. What’s your situation over there?”

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 1

Summary:  As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl's indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé's demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it's too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman)  Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 2604

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

As the son of the Baron of Falkirk, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement. There was a small part of him that mourned the loss of the chance to meet a beautiful stranger and fall hopelessly in love, like the characters in the fairytales that his nanny read to him as a child. But those fantasies were just that, fairytales. The fanciful whims of a child had no place in Roman’s life now that he had come of age. His marriage was to serve one purpose: to elevate his family. 

And Roman had been training for that purpose his entire life. 

Barely a month had passed since Roman’s twentieth birthday when he was called into his father’s study. He knew that whatever the reason for his summons, it must be important, as his father hated more than anything to be interrupted in his work. Roman knocked twice on the familiar, thick oak doors, and held his breath until he heard his father’s muffled answer from within. 

“Come in.” 

Roman stepped inside, and was surprised to see his mother and older brother already in the room, seated opposite his father’s old mahogany desk. As he entered, his father stood, gesturing to an empty chair that sat beside his mother. 

“Have a seat, son.” 

Roman sat. 

“I have good news,” his father continued. “As you have now reached the proper age, one of my primary interests has been to find an appropriate arrangement for your marriage.” 

Roman’s heartbeat quickened, and he forced himself to remain calm, folding his hands in his lap. This was it. This was the moment that he’d been preparing for nearly all of his life; the moment that would shape his entire future. 

“There were many factors to consider,” his father said, stepping around the desk to stand beside his wife. “It was not an easy decision. However, your mother and I have entered an agreement that we believe will be very profitable, for you and for the family.” 

Roman nodded. His father was a shrewd negotiator; he was sure that, whatever the terms of the engagement were, the Sanders family would not lose more than what it stood to gain. 

“So, you’ve reached a decision then, Father?” he asked, taking a deep breath and willing his expression to remain neutral.

“I have,” his father agreed. “You are to be wed to the Earl of Asberg, Lord Garret Howard. I have just received a message from his footman: they arrived at the Fireside Inn late this afternoon. Tomorrow, they will come to the manor to bring you to Lord Howard’s estate to begin the engagement period.” 

Roman bit back a gasp, his eyes growing wide. 

“Lord Howard?” he repeated. “I was not even aware the earl was looking for a suitor.” 

“For many years, he was not,” Roman’s mother spoke up. “His youth was spent primarily securing the political and financial status of his late father’s estate. Only recently has he turned his attention to more social matters.” 

“Your dowry aside, the connections we will gain through this marriage will be of an immense benefit to us,” said Roman’s father. “I know you know your duty son; I trust you will make us proud.” 

“I will, Father,” Roman said, getting to his feet. His father held out a hand, and Roman shook it firmly, doing his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. “Thank you.” 

His mother and brother stood as well, and Roman let his mother pull him into a quick hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“Congratulations dear,” she said as she pulled away, a proud smile on her face. “I know you’ll do just wonderfully.” 

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, squeezing her hand, and then his brother was in front of him. 

“Congrats, Ro,” he said quietly. 

“Thanks, Remy,” Roman whispered, and when they shook hands, Roman hoped Remy didn’t notice the slight tremble in his grip. 

“The carriage will arrive at eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” Roman’s father declared. “I’ve already instructed the maids to pack your clothing. Whatever other preparations you need, I suggest you make them now.” 

“I will. Thank you, Father,” Roman said again, bowing his head slightly to his family.

He left the study, walking through the halls of the manor as though walking through a dream. He reached his quarters, and it was only after he shut the door behind him that he realized he very well might never walk the path from the study to his room again. He sat on the edge of his bed, his formal posture falling from his shoulders like a forgotten shawl now that he was alone. 

True to his father’s words, a trunk lay open at the foot of his bed, his shirts and trousers and suits all carefully folded and placed inside by the maid. Another, smaller trunk had been placed beside it, no doubt for Roman to fill with whatever else he wished to bring with him to his fiance’s estate. 

His fiance…

Sun, moon, and stars, he was engaged. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know it was coming; he was the youngest of his parents’ three children, after all. As the oldest son, Remington would inherit the title Baron of Falkirk and all the duties that came with it, while Roman and Remus would be married into other families to increase the Sanders’ political influence. So Roman had always known that he was destined to leave the family manor. 

That didn’t necessarily mean he was ready to. 

He sighed, sweeping his eyes around his room. What would he even take with him? A single evening was hardly enough time for him to consider all that he owned and decide what to bring on a permanent move halfway across the country. Should he bring his books, his star charts, his journals and quills? Or would he be able to find suitable replacements for them all at Lord Howard’s estate? Would he even have time to indulge in his hobbies as the husband of an earl? If only he’d had more than a day’s notice of his departure, then he’d have time to think!

A light knock on the door pulled Roman from his thoughts, and he straightened instantly. 

“Who is it?” he called. 

“It’s me, Roman,” came the answer, and Roman relaxed at the sound of his brother’s voice. 

“Come on in, Rem.” 

Remy stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and giving Roman what was probably meant to be a smile, but came out more like a grimace. 

“So, it’s finally time,” he said, and Roman rolled his eyes. 

“No need to sound like I’m on my deathbed, Remy. It’s just an engagement, we all knew this was coming.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Remy sighed, plopping down on the bed next to Roman and leaning back against the headboard. “Still...I had sort of hoped you’d end up somewhere decently close by. Gremont, for instance, I know Lady Lishan has a daughter who’s eligible. Or maybe Ravenhold. Then you could at least visit. Asberg is…” 

“Far,” Roman agreed. 

He’d been trying not to think about it. Asberg was at least four days away by carriage, maybe longer depending on the weather, and Roman had never been so far away from home unaccompanied in his life. 

“Hey though, the wedding’s only six months away. I’ll get to see you then! And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to come visit for the harvest festival next year...or you could come visit me!” 

“Only if you serve coffee,” Remy joked, and Roman laughed, the tension in the room easing just a bit. 

“Help me pack?” Roman asked. “I can’t figure out if I should bring everything or nothing.”

“Hmm…” Remy sat up and scanned the room. “My advice? Bring only what you think you can’t live without.”

Roman hesitated, then looked up at his brother. 

“You?” he suggested. He tried to shoot Remy a playful smirk, but he could feel the corners of his mouth wobbling, and he knew from the sad smile on his brother’s face that Remy didn’t buy it. 

“I wish, Ro-bro,” Remy said, nudging their shoulders together. “But I think one son running away from home is enough of a scandal for Father to deal with.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Roman said, looking down and fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “What...what do you think Remus would say? If he were here to see me off?”

“Honestly?” Remy looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then snorted. “He wouldn’t say anything, he’d just lock you in the bedroom and throw away the key to make you stay. Or kidnap you and hide you somewhere so that the wedding had to be cancelled altogether.” 

“You’re probably right,” Roman said. He chuckled, but the laugh felt hollow, like a piece of it was missing...gone forever and irreplaceable, just like his brother. “Did...did I ever tell you that he came to see me, the night he left?” he asked quietly. 

“No,” Remy answered. “But I had a feeling that he did.” 

“He asked me to go with him,” Roman said. “To leave you and Mother and Father and everything we’d ever known, to go chasing ‘freedom’ and ‘adventure,’ like we were children again.” He shook his head, closing his fingers into fists. “I told him I couldn’t.”

“I think he knew that,” Remy said. “But I...I also think he felt he had to at least ask you for himself. I don’t think he’d really believe that you wanted to stay unless he heard you say it.” 

“And I did want to stay,” Roman insisted. “I begged him to stay. But he wouldn’t listen, and he left, and now it’s been three years and I have to leave you and Mother and Father and everything I’ve ever known anyway, except now I’ll be alone.” Roman looked up at Remy, his eyes shining with un-shed tears. “What if...what if I made the wrong choice?” 

Remy pulled him closer, hooking his chin over Roman’s head like he did when they were small and Roman would trip in the garden and scrape his knee. 

“I can’t answer that for you, Ro-bro,” he murmured. “That’s something you have to figure out. But for what it’s worth...I’m glad you stayed. It- it would have been even harder, I think, to lose both of you.” 

“You’re losing me now,” Roman whispered, but Remy shook his head. 

“No,” he said vehemently. “I’m not. You said it yourself, Roman, the wedding’s only in six months. And Asberg may be far, but it’s not like it's across the ocean or anything. We’ll still be able to see each other once in a while. Remus…” Remy sighed, and tightened his grip around Roman’s shoulders. “Remus left us for himself. You’re leaving us for the family. That’s the difference.” 

“Yeah...I know,” Roman said, sniffling a little and nestling deeper into his brother’s hold. “I’m still gonna miss you though.” 

“I’ll miss you too, Ro-bro,” Remy said, dropping a kiss into Roman’s hair. “I’ll miss you too.”

Remy eventually left Roman to pack, and the rest of the night passed in a blur. Roman finally decided what to bring with him (his used notebooks and journals, his collection of star charts, and an old cloak that the maid hadn’t packed because it was torn, but that Roman couldn’t bear to part with) and what to leave behind (unused sketchbooks, his set of inks and quills, and the ancient paint set that he hadn’t touched in almost a year), but when he lay down to try and get some rest, sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. Morning arrived far too soon for his liking, and before he’d really processed what was happening, he was standing at the bottom of the front steps of the manor with his family, waiting for the carriage to arrive. 

"Now Roman, remember," his father said, and Roman looked up at him. "Lord Howard oversees an estate far larger than our own. Whatever duties you are expected to perform, they will be on a scale far greater than what you are accustomed to here."

"He may look to you to aid him in business, but he may also expect you to oversee more of the social obligations. He has dealings with many different families, after all," Roman's mother added, and Roman nodded.

"Politics is never just about numbers," he recited, and his father's lips twitched in a small smile.

"That's right, son. Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

A carriage pulled in at the end of the manor's drive, and Roman took a deep breath.

"Remember to write!" his mother said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving his shoulder a squeeze. 

Roman placed a hand over hers, then shot Remy a lopsided smile.

"Any last words for me, Rem?"

Remy smirked, and ruffled Roman's hair.

"If you let Earlship go to your head, I’ll cut you out of the estate when I take over."

"Honestly, Remington," their mother said, rolling her eyes, and Remy winked at Roman.

The carriage reached them then, and Roman quickly moved to fix his hair. A footman hopped down from a seat on the rear, and bowed to Roman's father.

"Good morning," he said as he straightened. "I come on behalf of my Lord Garret Howard, Earl of Asberg, to deliver a dowry payment to Lord Phillip Sanders, Baron of Falkirk, and to collect his lordship's fiance, Lord Roman Sanders."

"Thank you, sir," said Roman's father, nodding to the footman. "Our family is honored by this union. May I present my son, Roman."

Roman inclined his head to the servant, who bowed again, quick and low.

"A pleasure, my lord. Allow me to gather your things."

Roman's luggage was loaded onto the back of the carriage, and Roman tried not to think about the large trunk that was unloaded and left at his father's feet. He hadn't been told the amount of his dowry, and he didn't want to know. For some reason, it made him feel strange to think about money being given to his family in return for his hand; it made it seem more like he'd been bought, when that wasn't the case! 

“Well,” he said when everything was ready to go. “I guess this is it.” 

“Safe journey, son,” his father said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Make us proud.”

Roman swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He gave his family as strong a smile as he could muster, then he stepped into the carriage and the footman closed the door behind him. Roman drew the curtains back from the window and peered behind them as the carriage pulled away from his home. Remy and his mother were both waving, and even his father raised his hand briefly in farewell. Roman watched them grow smaller and smaller, and then the carriage turned out of the grounds and he couldn’t see them anymore. The manor that had been his entire world for the past twenty years shrank into the distance, until it was nothing but a speck on the horizon. 

Roman finally turned around so he was facing the direction the carriage was traveling. His father’s words echoed in his mind, and he took a deep breath. 

Don’t worry, father, he thought. I’ll make you proud. I’ll make our whole family proud.

First Previous Next

[ggukcangetit]

Name of the Game: ksj fic (M)

title: Name of the Game

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/au: Anastasia AU, fluff, mystery, a bit of angst, smut, comedy

rating: 18+

word count: 14.2k

warnings: lost identity, slightly graphic description of a car accident including mentions of blood and dead bodies, minor character deaths mentioned, mentions of nightmares, mentions of past trauma, y/n gets lost multiple times, sexual content including oral (f and m receiving), kissing, grinding, fingering, breast play, nudity, unprotected sex (PLEASE USE PROTECTION).

summary: The Hotel -Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.

a/n: here’s my adaptation of the 1997 animated Anastasia film! the idea of the hotel was inspired by the Spanish tv series - Grand Hotel! i didn’t manage to finish this by the deadline. but it is finally over. i’m not very happy with how this story turned out but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. this was part of the Wish Upon A Star collab featuring some incredible writers and their brilliant adaptations/interpretations of different stories from our childhood. 

The address seemed correct. You had asked three people on the way over, and they had all pointed you in the same direction, accompanied by a knowing look. And in a way, they were completely correct. Concordia was a Gothic style castle, standing tall in the midst of acres and acres of lush green fields - a foreboding structure lost in time, separated from the rest of the world by sheer distance. In fact, the nearest payphone and gas station had been almost 100 miles away -  which you had used to phone the Mins.

“I think I’m almost there,” you spoke into the phone, surveying your surroundings doubtfully. “I asked a bunch of people and they all told me it’s just a few minutes away.”

They had lied. It took you at least 3 more hours to bike there.

“You sure you aren’t lost, kiddo?” You could almost see the teasing grin on Yoongi’s face.

“Oh, would you look at that? My time’s almost up” - you rolled your eyes at Yoongi’s giggles filtered through the receiver - “I’ll give you a call once I find accomodation, Yoongi! Take care, and don’t swipe any more tangerines from the shop!”

“Look out for yourself, kiddo.”

You had lived with the Mins for the better part of your 21 years of existence. They had found you almost 12 years ago, sitting under a large tree, bawling your eyes out. You had no memory of how you had gotten there, or who you were - just your name and a very battered piece of sheet music in your pocket. It was solely due to the kindness of a young couple who ran a modest cafe that you were even alive at this point. Their only son, Yoongi, preferred to lord his 4-5 year age difference by calling you ‘kiddo’. You would rather die before admitting it, but you really adored the nickname. 

Living life without an identity, without any roots, without a past - it was inconvenient at best, and unsettling at worst. You were eternally grateful to the Mins for everything they had done for you, but the first indication of financial distress arising from difficulties at the cafe had prompted you to pack your bags and leave in search of a job. 

Concordia was a name everyone knew. It was one of the oldest hotels in the country, passed down through 4 generations, known for its grandeur, luxury, and exquisite service. But most importantly, the food at Concordia was absolutely legendary. People saved up money throughout the year, so that they could travel to the hotel and try the food just once. And as a person who didn’t have much to lose, you decided that this would be the perfect place to apply for a position in the kitchens. 

What you hadn’t expected was to come across a gigantic looming structure, more suited for housing a reclusive vampire with horrible mood swings or a flamboyant literary figure prone to wild fantasies and nights of debauchery. Or both. 

You had almost turned back after seeing the castle for the first time - it didn’t seem like a place you’d want to spend more than a few seconds in. But something inside you kept nudging you forward.

There were two men standing at the main doors, looking equally formidable and archaic as the building they were guarding. After a few terrible attempts at convincing them to let you in, you gave up on the idea.

You looked around carefully. Surely there was another way of getting in. Once you were inside, you could convince whoever was in charge to give you a chance. You just needed one chance to prove yourself. Just one. 

Just then, a couple of people walked out using some kind of side entrance - a magnificently dressed woman and a young man with a certain swagger in his steps.

You crept over towards them, hoping that something from their conversation would help you out.

“I don’t understand why that silly girl creates such a fuss about bringing food to my room!” The woman rolled her eyes and brought a cigarette to her lips.

The young man took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette with a practiced sort of ease. “I’ll have a word with her, don’t worry.”

You strained your ears, trying to figure out just what they were talking about. Something to do with the hotel?

“But Mr. Kim,” she continued, taking a step closer to the young man. “Why can’t you bring my food up to my room?” The tone of her voice had most definitely changed, dropping a few octaves as she tilted her head to one side. 

“Now, now, Mrs. Trent,” he replied, with a hint of a chuckle. “You know that’s against hotel policy.”

With that, he took a definite step back. 

“Shame,” she continued, sweeping her eyes over him. “Make sure Kate doesn’t make any more mistakes with my room service.”

“Will do, ma’am,” replied Mr. Kim. He bowed to her and showed her back inside using the side entrance.

This was your opportunity. 

You followed behind them, making sure to maintain a decent amount of distance, and slipped in before the large door slowly creaked shut.

The inside was comparatively more inviting than the exterior. Lanterns at every few feet provided soft, warm lighting, and the decor looked a lot more modern and familiar than expected. The side entrance opened into a sort of lounge area, filled with comfortable sofas, small wooden tables, and a few dozen bookshelves. A record player -

“Can I help you?”

You hurriedly stepped back from the person you had bumped into - the man from earlier, Mr. Kim. 

“Uh…” You floundered for words, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. Chocolate brown eyes, devastatingly plump lips, ridiculously broad shoulders, and strong eyebrows - one of which was quite beautifully arched as he sized you up.

“I-I got lost. I wandered away from the lobby. C-could you”- you straightened your posture, mustering up all of your confidence - “direct me back there? I need to complete my check-in.”

Mr. Kim stared at you for a few moments. He seemed to be considering your words. You weren’t dressed half as extravagantly as the woman from before - who was probably a good example of the hotel’s usual clientele - but you somehow resisted the urge to tug at your clothes self-consciously.

“Of course,” he flashed you a brilliant smile, gesturing towards another part of the hotel. “This way, ma’am.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, quickly turning it into a cough as he turned towards you inquiringly. 

“Sorry, my throat is absolutely parched.”

He smiled again. “I’ll get one of the staff to bring out some water and refreshments for you.”

You nodded weakly and stood there, trying to look like you belonged. 

As soon as Mr. Kim was out of sight, you headed in the direction he had gone. Hopefully it was towards the kitchens. If not… well, you didn’t want to think about that.

It was soon evident that you were lost. Whatever this corridor was, you had no idea where it led or whether Mr. Kim had headed that way at all. Perhaps you should have waited near the front desk and thought your plan through…

“Are you looking for something?”

You whirled around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It belonged to a middle-aged woman, with a soft kind of beauty that had aged gracefully. You probably should have stuck to your story about being a guest who had gotten lost in the hotel. But something about her kind eyes encouraged you to tell her the truth.

“You want a job in the kitchens?” she asked, sounding a little skeptical. “My dear, there’s a way to apply for such positions. Why don’t you go back home and look at some proper avenues to apply for hotel internships?”

“Please,” you tried to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Just give me a chance. If I’m not capable, I’ll leave. But please, don’t turn me away.”

She sighed. “What’s your name, child?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” Her eyes seemed to well up for a moment, but she gathered herself quickly. “Y/n… Umm, alright. We’ll give you a try. One week. And if things don’t work out, you have to leave without a fuss.”

You beamed at her. “Thank you! You won’t regret it -”

She shook her head with a resigned smile. “Call me Yuna.”

Your first impression of Concordia had been spot on. There was something definitely off about the place. At the end of your first day working there, you noticed that all the staff seemed to get along with each other but there was a certain tension whenever the owners of the hotel were mentioned. Nobody said anything, but an uneasiness hung in the air every time. 

“So tomorrow,” Yuna turned towards you. She was the head chef and you had spent the entire day observing her as she directed everyone in the kitchen. “I’m going to ask you to help Kevin with the breakfasts. It’s not too tough - but in my experience, you can tell whether someone has potential by the way they cook eggs.”

You smiled. She had a subtle sense of humor, and everyone working with her absolutely adored her. She was the mother hen and head chef all rolled into one. 

“And about your accommodations-”

An interruption arrived in the form of the last person you wanted to see.

“Do we have any strawberry pastries left?” Mr. Kim asked, sauntering into the kitchen like he owned the place. 

You busied yourself with some dust that had miraculously lodged itself into your left eye at that very moment, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. But unfortunately, those piercing eyes had spotted you.

“Look who it is,” he drawled, walking over with slow, deliberate steps. All the amiable attentiveness in his eyes had been replaced with a calculating smugness. “Our lost check-in.”

“Ah, Seokjin,” Chef Yuna interrupted your staring match. “I see you’ve met our newest recruit - y/n. Y/n, this is Seokjin - my son.”

You gulped. “N-nice to meet you, Seokjin.”

“It’s Mr. Kim or Manager Kim to you, Lost Check-in,” he said, with a definite sneer. “Mum, forget about the pastry. I have a meeting with Madam Iris in a few minutes.”

With that, he walked off, leaving you a humiliated mess. Chef Yuna opened her mouth to say something but you were off without a second thought. Manager or not, how dare he speak to you like that!

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! KIM SEOKJIN!” you all but screamed, finally catching his attention. Although, if he hadn’t been ignoring you so obviously, he would’ve turned around sooner.

“What is it, Lost Check-in? I have more important things to do,” he asked, huffing much louder than necessary.

“Why did you speak to me like that?” You glared at him, trying to keep your temper in check. “I know I lied to you before but that’s no way to talk to another human being.”

He stared at you for a few moments, and once again you got the distinct impression that he could see right through you. It took all of your determination to not break eye contact.

“Because,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “You aren’t a guest here. So I don’t need to be nice to you. Do you understand, Lost Check-in?”

You stood rooted to the spot, goosebumps breaking out all over your body. 

“S-stop calling me that!” you yelled, long after he had walked off.

Concordia belonged to the Chavalenet family. Madam Eva Chavalenet, the matriarch of the family, was silent, formidable, and barely ever seen by any of the guests or staff at the hotel; Madam Iris Farrow, Eva’s daughter, was intelligent, graceful, and extremely beautiful. She ran the hotel along with her husband, Anthony Farrow, who was the family’s solicitor. Iris and Anthony had an eight year old son - Ryan - who was an absolute terror, and someone Seokjin did not like having around. 

Unfortunately, management meetings meant that he would be seated at the antique dining table in the Chavalenet’s residential quarters, trying his best to avoid whatever it was that the young heir would try and lob at him, while the boy’s mother rattled off a long list of things for him to take care of. Seokjin couldn’t understand why none of the members of the family attempted to, or even wanted to, keep the child under control.

“Seokjin,” Madam Iris began the meeting, pulling out her expensive looking reading glasses out of her equally expensive looking purse. “The last few months have not been good for the hotel. We will need to have some layoffs.”

Seokjin kept his expression neutral. This wasn’t the first time staff had been laid off over the past year. Whoever was managing the hotel’s accounts was either doing a terrible job, or the expenses had truly outrun the income they generated from the guests. The former was the more likely possibility because people paid a pretty penny to come and stay at Concordia, and as far as he could remember, business had been booming since he had been promoted to manager two years ago.

“We’ve reviewed the staff’s evaluation forms and come to the decision that housekeeping and kitchen staff need to be reduced by 8 overall. We’ll leave it up to you to make the final decisions.” She looked up from the stack of papers in front of her and gave him a small smile. “It’s going to be difficult, so make sure to consult Chef Yuna and get her opinion on the matter as well.”

Management meetings always proceeded like this. Madam Iris gave him orders, Anthony Farrow agreed to every word she said, and Madam Eva remained unyielding in her silence. Previously, the Assistant Manager would also join these meetings - but ever since the position had been terminated, it was always the four of them. And that annoying brat, of course. 

“Before I forget,” Anthony said, turning his gaze towards Seokjin. “Make sure the sheets in our room are washed with the new ultra fine formula detergent.”

Seokjin’s jaw ticked in irritation. Anthony Farrow had married above his station, doing everything that his wife and mother-in-law asked him to do. It was only while interacting with the hotel staff that Anthony found his voice and used it with incredible high-handedness.

“Darling, don’t bother Seokjin like that.” Madam Iris understood the strategy of appeasement very well. “I will speak to Helen when she comes up to our room tomorrow morning.”

Usually, this was when the meeting would end and everyone would head back to their rooms. 

Today, however, there was an unusual interruption in the form of-

“I’m so sorry! I got lost on the way to the kitchens!”

Seokjin stared in astonishment as you hastily tried to explain why you had quite literally stumbled into the management meeting. It wasn’t that you were doing a bad job of it, per se… It was just a very tough crowd. 

“How long have you been working here, girl?” snapped Anthony.

“I’m new,” you answered, shortly.

Before Anthony could express his outrage at the tone of your response, Madam Iris stepped forward and surveyed you carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

Something flickered in her gaze but she masked it quickly. “Well, y/n, this is very disappointing indeed. Usually our staff know how to conduct themselves in front of the guests and the owners. I’m afraid-”

“Let her be.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Madam Eva who had spoken for the first time that night. In fact, Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken voluntarily in the first place.

“Mother?” Madam Iris looked confused.

“The meeting is over. No need for unnecessary fuss.” Her tone was final and no one dared say anything after that.

Seokjin wasn’t sure if you understood the significance of the moment. But before any further damage could be done, you had excused yourself with an apology and left the room. 

You woke up early the next morning, partly because of another nightmare and partly because you were anxious to get to work on time. Chef Yuna may have taken on a complete stranger the day before, but you were pretty sure her kindness wouldn’t extend any further if you messed up.

On your way to the kitchens, you found yourself lost once again. It was the hotel’s fault, really. It was far too large and had one too many winding corridors. How did the guests find their way around without getting hopelessly lost? Was there some sort of map that was given out to them at the time of check-in? 

A sudden movement from a few feet away caught your eye. It was a shadow - which meant that there was someone moving about in the alcove. 

Curiosity got the better of you and your feet headed towards the person, wondering who it-

“Mr. Kim?!” 

There was no mistaking those broad shoulders. Kim Seokjin stumbled slightly, startled by your presence. 

“I-I can explai-” he stopped abruptly when he realised it was you. “Oh, it’s just you.”

You glared at him, offended by his tone. “What were you doing just now?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he shrugged, attempting to leave without divulging any more information. 

“So you just skulk around dark alcoves indulging in shady behavior for no particular reason?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was so easy for him to regain control of the situation with that penetrating gaze and intimidating body language. “But more importantly, what are you doing in this part of the hotel?”

“I got lost again,” you muttered, looking away in embarrassment. 

“And instead of being thankful that you bumped into someone who could help you find your way back, you’re accusing me of - what was it? Ah, that’s right, ‘indulging in shady behavior’,” he emphasized the last few words with air quotes.

“As if you would have helped me!” you retaliated. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you sent me off in the complete opposite direction and made sure I never found my way back again!”

“I wouldn’t have,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But now that you’ve brought it up, I’m going to do precisely that.”

You gaped after him. What exactly did he have against you?!

“If you don’t take me back to the kitchens,” you said, making him slow down. “I’ll tell Madam Eva that you were lurking about in places you have no business being.”

It was a long shot. But something about the atmosphere the previous night had indicated that Madam Eva’s approval was hard to come by. And the entire room had been quite shocked when she had asked for you to be left alone. 

Seokjin stopped and turned around slowly. Your threat seemed to have done the trick because he didn’t look quite as smug as he had a few moments ago. “Fast learner, aren’t you?”

You held your ground, determined not to be shaken by his intimidation tactics. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” He began walking again, in a different direction this time.

You held back a grin and followed behind him.

“But if you ever” - he whirled around suddenly, taking you by surprise - “think of blackmailing me again, things will not end well for you. Understand, Lost Check-in?”

Overall, your second day working at Concordia had not been very eventful. Chef Yuna had been very pleased with how you had prepared the eggs and potatoes for breakfast. She was looking more inclined to keeping you on permanently. Besides that, not much had really happened. You found out more about your coworkers - Kevin, Michelle and Laila. All three of them had been working there for more than two years and seemed likeable enough at first glance. 

Chef Yuna herself was something of a genius in the kitchen. While she didn’t cook often, her instructions were impeccable, and the one dish that she had cooked for dinner had been so incredible that five guests had sent back compliments to the chef. On top of that, her pleasant personality made her a hit with almost everyone. 

You could see where Seokjin got his charms from. He had a way of drawing people towards him with a combination of beautifully arranged words, intuitive actions, and overall handsome aura.

Although, there was something slightly sinister about the way he operated. You realised that the incident with Mrs. Trent had not been a solitary one. Manager Kim regularly charmed gifts, favours, and cash out of the guests. You had observed him on more than a couple of occasions, just chatting with some guest, and before you knew it there was something small being passed into his hands. And it wasn’t just women who gave him things either. 

“I hope you enjoyed the classical music session in the grand hall last night, Mr. Cowen,” said Seokjin, talking to the elderly gentleman seated near the balcony. “There’s another one scheduled for the end of next week, if you’re still staying here at that time.”

Mr. Cowen seemed utterly delighted to hear this, and not only extended his stay at the hotel but also pressed a rather thick envelope into his palm. No doubt, this was a regular occurrence because Seokjin was just incredibly smooth at handling everything that people handed to him. 

You made it a point to avoid him as much as possible. And your little stunt that morning had also ensured that Seokjin left you well alone. All in all, it was an arrangement you were quite happy with.

“Y/n, don’t forget about tonight!”

You turned towards Laila, confusion lining your expression. 

“Tonight?”

Laila rolled her eyes. “I told you about it yesterday, remember? We have a staff gathering every Friday evening! It’s basically a small party where we eat, drink, and dance to music on the manager’s boombox! It’s a lot of fun!”

You scrunched up your nose at the mention of Seokjin. But Laila looked so excited that you figured it was worth going to. Not that you had any other grand plans for the evening…

“Sure! Where does the party usually happen?”

“There’s a large unused room below the lobby,” explained Laila, eyes sparkling in excitement. “The Chavalenets don’t keep any hotel events there because it’s on a lower level, so we take advantage of that and have a good time there instead!”

“Sounds fun! I’ll be there!”

“Oh, and don’t forget to dress up!”

You stumbled on thin air. “Dress up?”

“Of course! It’s a party, y/n!” 

“I don’t have any fancy clothes…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

That did not seem to faze Laila. “Well, it’s a good thing I have tons to spare!”

Later that night, you walked into the forgotten room below, dressed in a knee-length, midnight blue dress courtesy Laila. She had insisted on you wearing a pair of sparkly earrings as well, claiming that you absolutely could not proceed without it because it matched the little sparkles in your dress. 

You were quite glad that you had followed her advice because everyone else clearly took these small Friday gatherings very seriously. In fact, this party turned out to be the most free-flowing gathering you had encountered since stepping into the hotel. Gone was the stiff, unnatural feeling that usually clung to the atmosphere. Replaced, instead, by normal conversations, comfortable interactions, and a general feeling of warmth and comfort. 

“Y/n, you look beautiful!” Chef Yuna walked over to you with a big smile on her face. 

“Thank you! Though, I’d say most of the credit goes to Laila for letting me borrow her dress.”

Chef Yuna laughed and pointed you in the direction of the snack table. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of every dish sitting there - shrimp appetizers with a subtle garlic dip, baskets full of freshly baked bread rolls, two large bowls of salad, slices of turkey, chicken, and salami, and a very delectable looking cake with fresh cream and strawberries.

“Y/n, where did you learn to cook? Do you have any formal training?” Penny, who worked at the front desk, had only spoken to you in passing before. 

“Oh, the family I lived with owned a cafe,” you said, sipping the punch slowly. It was a little too tart for you. “I used to help out a lot here and there, and eventually got quite interested in cooking. But I don’t have any formal training.”

“That’s odd.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Penny shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have any training or experience, but Chef Yuna still hired you. I can’t see why.”

“Well, I’m grateful that she gave me a chance,” you said, a small frown gracing your features. “Otherwise I’d be unemployed and homeless.”

Penny took this as an indication to leave. You wandered around the room, avoiding people, and mulling over her words. It was a bit odd that you had been hired. Although you had tried to keep yourself from overthinking the reason behind it, now that Penny - a relative outsider - had pointed it out, you felt a little uneasy. Surely, there wasn’t a sinister motive involved…

“Shoot! The tape’s jammed!”

Kevin fumbled with the boombox, trying to open it and take the cassette out. A mass of wriggly black tape shot out after a few moments, startling him enough to make him lose his balance and fall on top of Laila. 

“My dress!” Laila yelled, as the punch spilled on her cream colored outfit. 

“I’m so sorry!” Kevin hastened to get off her, and looked around helplessly.

“Let me take a look at it,” you came over, inspecting the tape and boombox. “I can fix this but I’m not sure about your dress, Laila.”

Kevin was relieved that the tape emergency was over, but one look at Laila’s furious expression wiped the relief off his face. Chef Yuna placated Laila with promises of a home remedy for the stain, while you busied yourself working on the boombox.

Yoongi’s obsession with music, and any and all technology related to music, meant that you had seen him fixing countless tangled cassette tapes before. The boombox hadn’t eaten any of the tape, thankfully, so you looked around for a pen or pencil with which to wind the tape back into place. There didn’t seem to be any in the room, but Michelle told you that there was plenty of stationary in the backroom of the kitchens. 

While walking up the stairs, you noticed something moving about in the shadows. Was it Seokjin being shady again? Surely not…

“UGH!!!!!”

Alas. It was exactly that.

Well, not exactly. This time around, something had frightened him so much that he had let out an almighty shriek, jumped two feet into the air, and accidentally hurled a large bunch of keys in your direction. 

You realized it was accidental because a few seconds later, Seokjin’s frantic voice could be heard searching for the keys.

“Where is it?” he muttered, crawling on all fours. 

You contemplated giving him back the bunch without any fuss. But the image of his annoyingly handsome face staring at you condescendingly made you reconsider your course of action.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, walking up to him slowly. 

Clearly, the man didn’t do well with sudden noises because he let out yet another loud yelp and fell on his backside. 

“What’s wrong with you?!” he demanded. “Why would you sneak up on someone like that?”

“I was walking by when I saw you being shady again. And for the record,” you added, kneeling down beside him. “It wouldn’t feel like I was sneaking up on you if you weren’t sneaking around yourself.”

He frowned at you, and you realised that he was still in his formal work clothes. Although, you could tell that he had been rummaging about for quite a while because his shirt had come untucked and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You tried not to let the pronounced veins on his arms distract you. The last thing you needed was for his obnoxiously large ego to become even more bloated by realizing that you found him extremely attractive.

But really, you didn’t need to worry about him realizing anything. For Kim Seokjin was busily trying to comprehend the fact that you were wearing a relatively short dress and kneeling down next to him. Never before had he contemplated how long and slender your legs were - but now that he had caught more than a glimpse, he couldn’t quite get those thoughts to leave him.

“What were you doing, anyway?” you asked, realizing that no one had spoken for a significant amount of time. “I’m beginning to think you’re either a sleepwalker or a very clumsy pervert.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. He got up quickly and dusted his pants, glaring at you the entire time.

“Neither. And you need to mind your own business, Lost Check-in.”

It was your turn to frown. “Stop calling me that.”

“Stop getting in my way,” he retorted.

“Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Or else what? You’ll get me into trouble?” he sneered.

You smirked and brought the bunch of keys out from behind your back. “Not at all. I’ll just keep the hotel’s main set of keys to myself and watch you get yourself into trouble.”

“Give that back!” He lunged at you, trying to get the keys back.

You should have thought this through more thoroughly. The initial advantage you had was now gone, and instead, the man before you was able to use his height and ample shoulders to his full advantage and trap you against the wall. You held the keys behind your back, determined to keep them away from him as long as possible.

Now that you were backed up to the wall, Seokjin had to press himself flush against you in order to get closer to the keys. His hands moved wildly, trying to feel for the keys and brushing against your thighs instead. 

The sudden contact made you jolt upwards, knocking both your heads together and temporarily ceasing the fight. 

Although, if anyone had seen the two of you, they definitely wouldn’t have thought you were in the middle of a fight - the angles and movements were much more like two people feeling each other up very heatedly.

“You’re such a pain,” Seokjin muttered, rubbing the spot on his forehead you had bumped into. The tips of his fingers were placed very gently against his forehead, but somehow the movement itself was extremely aggressive.

The image was so bizarre that you burst into giggles, doubling over and collapsing onto the floor. He stared at you for a few moments before the corners of his lips started twitching upwards as well. Sighing slowly, he sat down next to you.

“You’re very strange,” he said, though it lacked the usual crisp annoyance.

“You’re one to talk. Lurking in shadowy corners on more than one occasion,” you retorted, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed. “If you must know, I’m looking for the treasure.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Growing up at the hotel, I had always heard about rumors of a great treasure that was hidden somewhere here. Mind you, no one really knew anything concrete about this treasure. But the rumors were always fantastically exciting.” He paused, leaning his head back against the wall.

“If you’ve known about it for so many years, why are you searching for it now?” you asked.

“Because I don’t think the hotel will be running much longer.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”

“Financial problems. I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s not been looking good for the past year.” A sad smile graced his features. “This hotel is my home, and it feels weird to think about a time where it won’t be a part of my life anymore. But I have to plan for the future, look ahead and make sure there’s a plan b in case the worst comes to.”

You remained silent. How were you supposed to respond to this?

“Anyway,” he continued. “Can I have the keys back?”

You looked at him, surveying his features closely. Once you moved beyond how handsome he was, you could see the determination in his eyes as well. This man was a survivor - just like you. That’s why you decided on your next course of action.

“I’ll help you.”

He blinked a few times. “Huh?”

“I’ll help you,” you repeated, handing the bunch of keys to him. “I’ll help you look for the treasure.”

It had been a week since you had started working at the hotel. Chef Yuna was satisfied with your work and hired you on a six-month contract.

“That way,” she said, while passing the contract to you. “You are free to leave the hotel if you find somewhere else you want to join. If not, we can just draw up another contract for you to continue.”

You smiled at her. She really was a very kind and compassionate person, who always looked out for the people around her. Unlike her son… 

Although maybe Kim Seokjin wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought he was.

“Lost Check-in! Don’t you look lovely today!”

Correction: he was just as bad as you had thought.

“Can you not breathe down my neck, Manager?” you said, through gritted teeth. He was currently standing right behind you, staring at the soup from over your shoulder. The close proximity meant that you could feel his breath on your neck - which was extremely unsettling.

He backed away a little and stared at you with mischief dancing in his eyes. You frowned and crossed your arms across your chest, anticipating some kind of sabotage. And sure enough, he suddenly leaned forward, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Do you know where the gummy bears are?” He pulled away slightly, tilting his head and gazing at you inquiringly.

“The gummy bears…?” you repeated, slightly dazed by the sensation of his lips on your ear.

He grinned and flicked your forehead softly. “I’ll just ask Laila.”

Apparently, Seokjin had a slight gummy bear addiction. Chef Yuna had banned any sort of gummies from the kitchen for that exact reason. Somehow, Seokjin managed to overcome that obstacle as well - he would ask the grocer to smuggle in his favorite rose colored gummy bears, even going as far as saying some guests had requested it but wanted it kept a secret. 

Laila, who you thought had a pretty obvious crush on Seokjin, was chosen as the gummy guardian in the kitchen, and occasionally, Kevin also helped hide the stash when things got too chaotic. It was only Michelle who would possibly disapprove, and therefore, was kept completely in the dark. 

“What was the manager talking to you about earlier, y/n?” Michelle came over to you after tea had been prepared for the guests. 

“Oh, uh-” you saw Laila desperately shaking her head from behind the counter. “Nothing in particular. He was just being tiresome.”

Michele frowned but nodded her head. “Okay. Just don’t fall for what he says, okay? Do your job properly and listen to Chef’s instructions. Everything will be fine that way.”

You nodded your head. What a curious thing to say… You wondered what had brought about this response from Michelle. Everyone in the hotel seemed to be very fairly fond of, if not incredibly smitten with, Seokjin. This was the first time you were witnessing such an explicitly negative response towards him. Even Madam Iris and her husband maintained a level of aloofness associated with the upper class. 

“Why does Michelle hate you?” You were standing next to Seokjin as he tried to jimmy the lock on a random cupboard in some random room. You still hadn’t been able to figure out what his process for finding the treasure was - it just seemed like a bunch of inaccurate guesses. But at least he had finally relented to your persistent nagging and asked you to join him on his next escapade.

“Why do you think she hates me?” he asked, frowning as the lock wouldn’t budge. When you didn’t respond, he turned towards you and chuckled at the skeptical expression on your face. “Okay yes, she isn’t particularly fond of me.”

“I figured that much out myself, funnily enough. What I’m asking is why?”

He hesitated a little, as if trying to find the right way to explain the situation. “Michelle and I were - uhm - we had a brief dalliance a couple of years ago. In fact, it was right after she had started working here. Things didn’t end well…”

You pressed your lips together, desperately trying to keep a straight face. It didn’t help that the tips of Seokjin’s ears had started to turn red as he finished recounting his story.

“You played her, didn’t you?” 

“No way! I would never-” he stopped, realising that you would not fall for his stories. “Yeah well, it’s not like I promised to marry her or something! We just kissed a few times and she helped get a couple of persistent guests off my back.”

“Yeah, you played her.”

He sighed, pushing past you on his way out of the room. “Whatever.”

It was incredibly amusing to see him annoyed and flustered like this. You made it a point to find out a few other things that would possibly elicit the same reaction from him. Maybe there was a particularly scandalous gummy bear story you could wedge out of Laila. 

Just as you both rounded the corner, something small and fidgety dashed into you, successfully knocking you off your feet. 

“Hey! What the hell?”

The bane of every hotel staff’s existence, the reason why a large crate of tomatoes had rolled down the main flight of stairs, the culprit behind the large pudding stain on the special ivory tablecloths, the spoilt young heir of the hotel - Ryan Farrow sat on the floor opposite you, seemingly delighted about the fact that he had managed to topple a new victim.

“Watch where you’re going, kid,” you said, trying to keep your temper in check. You had heard dozens of stories about the terrors unleashed upon your coworkers by this child, and even though this was your first direct interaction with him, you were already extremely annoyed.

“You watch where you’re going, old lady!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet and sticking his tongue out. 

“I am not an old lady!” you yelled, chasing after him as he began running off in the direction he had come from. “Hey! Get back here! You should say sor-”

The sight of a very displeased Madam Iris stopped you in your tracks. Ryan grinned at you from behind his mother, made a series of unfortunate gestures, and ran off before you could chase after him.

“Y/n,” Madam Iris spoke with a calmness not reflected in her eyes. “I’m not sure I understand what you were doing just now.”

You stood still, knowing that she had more to say, more excessively long sentences to use, more haughty expressions to display. 

“I can’t imagine that you’d be chasing my son around the hotel,” she continued, raising a thin eyebrow. “Yelling at him to apologize to you. What exactly would my son need to apologize to you for?”

“I wasn’t yelling at him,” you replied, stiffly. “He was too far away so I had to speak loudly. Also, he was running through the corridors very fast and could’ve hurt himself along with someone else. I was ju-”

“How dare you?” she frowned at you. “How dare you think you have any right to tell my son what he can and cannot do? This is basically his hotel. You work for him as much as you do for me and my mother.”

You bit your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying something that would land you in further trouble. 

“If I ever see you treating my son like that ever again,” she looked you up and down with a disdainful expression. “I will have you sacked immediately. Understood?”

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more. Madam Iris gave you one final look of disapproval and walked off. 

“That was quite something.” 

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit right now, Seokjin.”

After getting no response, you removed your hands from your face, only to be greeted by a large hand full of rose gummy bears. Seokjin stood in front of you, wiggling his eyebrows and nose, trying to indicate that you should take some of the gummy bears from his hand.

He looked cute. 

“Is there something wrong with these gummy bears?” you asked, once you had recovered from his oddly endearing actions. 

He frowned, a soft pout forming. “I’m appalled. Whatever differences we may have, Lost Check-in, I would never put my precious gummy bears in danger.”

You remained unconvinced, so he picked up a single gummy bear between his thumb and index finger, and popped it into his mouth. After a couple of chews, he thrust the gummy bears towards you, gently bobbing his head up and down to signal to you that it was safe to try some.

You rolled your eyes and picked up a couple of them. Seokjin was watching you intently, trying to gauge your reaction to his favorite treat. 

Your first instinct was to say that you hated it - it would be so much fun to watch his disappointment. But his large brown eyes were filled with a clear emotion - anticipation - the kind you feel when introducing your best friend to something you love. At least, that’s what you’d imagine the feeling would be, because you never really had a best friend before. 

“I like it.” It was a simple statement but somehow, it managed to earn a full-blown smile from him.

“Excellent! I knew you’d like it!”

Your face felt hot as he grabbed your hand and shoved the rest of the gummy bears into it.

“Oh, and I got this for you.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out a battered looking document. “It’s a map of the hotel - it’s quite old but I’ve scribbled down any new additions or structures that may have been added more recently.”

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, trying to avoid the more pressing question of why he was going out of his way to give this to you.

“Madam Eva gave it to me,” he replied, simply. 

“Madam Eva? Why would she give you a map of the hotel? Didn’t you grow up here? Why would you need it anyway?” The questions poured out before you could really check yourself.

“Oh hush, Lost Check-in,” he tutted, shaking his head. “I got it from her to give to you. So you wouldn’t keep losing yourself in dark corridors. I wouldn’t want you to bump into someone else like you did with me.”

“Huh?” was your very intelligent response.

Corridors. So many corridors. None of them leading anywhere. Just an endless path. No destination in sight. No doors on any sides. No rooms. Not a single person around. You were all alone. A single object far away. Too far away. The corridor doesn’t end. A figure in black. Growing larger. It was coming for you-

“It was a nightmare… thank god...” You woke up in a cold sweat, breathing harshly as you struggled to gather your surroundings. 

You were in your room, the gentle sounds of Michelle’s snores calming you down while you got up to get a drink of water. It didn’t seem like you would be able to get to sleep anytime soon so you decided to study the map Seokjin had given you. 

It was no wonder you kept getting lost in the hotel - it was massive and there were a number of rooms within rooms whose existence you wouldn’t be aware of unless you specifically knew where to find them. 

Your eyes wandered over to the top left corner of the map. That particular section of the map was much more faded than the rest of it, making it hard to decipher exactly what was there.

“Seokjin!” You burst into his room just as the clock struck 6 in the morning. “I think I know where we should be searching next! Th-”

You nearly collided with the table in the centre of the room as you realised exactly what you had stumbled upon. 

Seokjin doing his morning stretches. Seokjin, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, whose ears were now a bright red, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches.

“Y/n?” he asked, looking very confused.

“Thigh- I mean, hi!” You looked away from the lower half of his body, donned in the most ridiculously tiny pair of tennis shorts you had ever laid eyes on. “I have an idea.”

“Okay? Is it related to knocking before you burst into someone’s room at the crack of dawn?” he replied, grinning cheekily.

“Shut up!” you scoffed, turning away from him. You didn’t need him to see how affected you were.

“Okay, just gimme a minute.”

Soon, he was back, appropriately dressed and smelling like strawberries. Of course he smelled like strawberries…

“So what was your great idea?” he asked, sitting down on the floor.

“I was looking through the map of the hotel,” you said, opening it up. “And this place right here on the top left corner of the map - I think this place would be worth a shot.”

“No.”

“No? Why not?!” You were slightly annoyed at how quickly he dismissed your suggestion.

“Because,” he said, pulling the map closer to himself. “This is where the Chavalenet suites are located.”

“Oh…” You frowned at the map. “But that means there’s a greater chance of finding the treasure over there! Have you looked there before?”

“No, because only select staff are allowed there during fixed hours. Madam Iris insists on it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I think we should check it out. Come on, we’ll be very careful! They’ll never know we were there!”

The earnest look in your eyes seemed to make Seokjin waver. He stared at you for a few moments before shaking his head resignedly. 

“What’s the worst that could happen… Ah, fine. Let’s plan on exploring that section of the hotel while dinner is being served. I know that Anthony requested a special performance by that famous children’s magician, so they should be occupied for much longer than usual.”

You grinned, collecting the map and getting ready to leave the room. “I’ll meet you outside the kitchens at 7!”

It was exactly twenty past 7 when you rushed out of the kitchen, nearly colliding with Seokjin in the process. He tapped his watch a few times, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.  

“I hate that woman!” you huffed angrily, slipping into your jacket. “She actually requested that I peel all the potatoes for tonight’s dinner. Do you know how many potatoes were served tonight? 200!”

“You peeled 200 potatoes by yourself?” Seokjin raised his eyebrows in alarm. 

“No,” you sighed. “Chef Yuna got Laila to help me out but Madam Iris kept popping in every few minutes so she had to go back to doing something else. Mind you, I might not have finished at all tonight if she hadn’t helped me. But it still took an insane amount of time.”

The two of you walked towards the Chavalenets’ section of the hotel. It was located at the back of the building, effectively cut off from the usually busy portions of the hotel. 

“Why is this family so weird?” you complained, picking at a thread on your jacket. “One doesn’t speak, one is an evil tyrant, one is a spineless asshole, and don’t even get me started on the kid!”

Seokjin chuckled softly. “They weren’t always so weird. Especially not Madam Eva.”

“Really? I don’t believe it. She just sits there and watches her daughter do whatever she wants.”

“No, it’s true. She was a very powerful woman - used to command the attention of everyone in the room. Everyone respected her and she really cared about everyone in the hotel - staff and guests included. In fact, she was the one who introduced special events for guests during the evenings. She also had part of the hotel renovated so that there were more staff quarters.”

“So what happened?”

“A couple of things. About 15 years ago, Madam Eva’s husband passed away quite suddenly. Everyone was pretty shocked, but in hindsight it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. He liked to live it up - smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish, and ate everything the doctors specifically asked him to avoid. Anyway, around the time of his death, rumors about the treasure started circulating. There was speculation that he had left something behind but hadn’t told the rest of the family. Overall, his death created a lot of upheaval in terms of property and inheritance issues.”

Seokjin paused, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“It was about two years after that that Madam Eva’s son and his family died in a car crash. Adrian, his wife Sophie, and their little girl - who funnily enough had the same name as you.”

“Really?!” you asked, eyes widening in surprise. That would explain why Chef Yuna and the Chavalenets had reacted so strangely when they had heard your name.

“Yeah,” he said, turning towards you with a sad smile. “I still remember that day clearly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Madam Eva as devastated as she had been that day. The police barely managed to stop her from going to the crash site. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if she had managed to get there - apparently, the explosion was so bad that only a few body parts were recovered.”

“Wow…” You didn’t know what to say. The story sounded horrible on its own - what must it have been to actually have to live through it?

“Anyway, here we are” -Seokjin pointed at a couple of large doors next to each other - “that’s Madam Iris’ study and her and Anthony’s bedroom next to it. On the other end of the corridor is Madam Eva’s room and an empty ballroom where they sometimes hold meetings.”

“Okay, let’s start with the study.”

Madam Iris’ study was a very well organized room. There was no way you could rummage through it without moving something out of place. Seokjin suggested that each item should be returned to its place as soon as it was inspected, making sure that nothing was left to be put back at the end. It seemed like a pretty efficient system, but unfortunately, there appeared to be nothing useful that could point you towards the treasure.

“I knew it!” Seokjin stood up and waved a large paper notebook frantically. “I knew she was tampering with the books! There’s no way the hotel could be doing as badly as she claimed!”

You frowned and took a quick glance at the notebook. Not being familiar with any of the accounts, you looked at Seokjin for some help. He began explaining every single mistake with a feverish excitement, his words coming out faster as he got more excited. 

Suddenly, you heard a noise from outside the room. 

There was no need to check who it was - in whatever scenario, you and Seokjin could not be caught rifling through the papers in Madam Iris’ room. 

“Seokjin!” you whispered frantically. “Shut up! There’s someone coming!”

He wasn’t paying any attention to you, excitedly rattling off different things from the notebook. The voices were getting closer and in a last desperate attempt, you pulled him behind the large red curtains and smashed your lips to his.

That seemed to shut him up for a moment. But as he realized that your lips were on his, he attempted to pull away. There was no way you could risk letting Seokjin talk right now. So you moved your lips over his, kissing him fast and hard, while your fingers frantically tapped a pattern onto his left arm. Hopefully he would notice the pressure on his arm and understand that you were trying to tell him something - that you were trying to tell him to shut up for a few minutes.

Thankfully, he stopped struggling after a few taps on his arm, focusing on kissing you instead. 

You nearly missed out on the conversation happening at the other end of the room because Seokjin’s lips were just so damn powerful.

“Iris,” you recognized Madam Eva’s voice, low and stern. “I’m running out of patience. When is that lawyer husband of yours going to be done with the new staff contracts?”

“Mother, please, have patience. Anthony can’t just rush through such an important task. We need to everything is absolutely perfect before handing it over to you.”

“You have until the end of the month,” Madam Eva said, her voice ringing with finality. 

The door slammed shut and the sound of the two pairs of footsteps slowly receded into silence.

It took you a few seconds to realise that the coast was clear. Pulling away from him hastily, you took in the sight of his bruised lips and dazed expression. Pushing aside the delighted feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach, you brought his attention to the conversation you both had just overheard. 

“Sorry about that - I had to find some way to shut you up quickly! But more importantly, we need to find those contracts! Did you hear what they were saying? I’m sure Iris is planning something sinister!”

Seokjin had not, in fact, heard anything that had been said. His brain had started glitching as soon as your lips had descended on his. But it was only when you started tapping his hand, did his world come crashing around him. 

“Y/n! We aren’t supposed to be here! I’ll get into trouble if they find me here!” 

9 year old Seokjin had quite a few reservations about raiding the special chocolate cabinet that was kept locked and stored inside the grand ballroom. 

“Shh!” you whispered, pouting at him. “If you keep screaming like that, they’ll definitely find us!”

“What?!” Panic seized his entire body, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could think about them. “I knew it! This is a disaster! I’m going to be in so much trouble! Mum is gonna-”

The feeling of something soft on his cheeks made him halt his word vomit. Your lips, to be precise. 

Before he could overreact to this as well, you began tapping his forearm rhythmically. The movement snapped him out of shock, alerting him to the fact that two of the hotel staff were currently taking away the old centre pieces on the tables. 

He pulled away from you slowly, nodding his head to let you know that he would be quiet until they left.

It was a good 15 minutes later that the coast was finally clear. However, Seokjin’s ears were still red and his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Sorry, Jin,” you apologized, grinning at him mischievously. “I had to shut you up quickly!”

It came back to him in a rush. A pile of memories, falling from the sky and burying him under the emotions he had kept locked up for more than a decade.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. Madam Eva’s beloved granddaughter was still alive. You were still alive. You were Madam Eva’s granddaughter.

“I can’t believe I kissed him like that!”

You were currently having a mini meltdown inside your room. Thankfully, Michelle was still working so you had the whole place to yourself to rant about your ridiculous choice of actions.

“I could’ve just covered his mouth with my hand!” You buried your face in your hands. “But NO! I had to use my mouth to cover his mouth! What was I thinking? No! What is he thinking?! Fuck!”

This was getting too much. Your face felt unbelievably hot, and you couldn’t make sense of your own actions. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t kissed a guy before - in fact, those sloppy kisses you had shared with Yoongi’s best friend, Hoseok, had been quite enjoyable. But that was after Hoseok had said that he liked you - you hadn’t just jumped him out of nowhere!

“I’m such an idiot!” you groaned. 

There was no point screaming to yourself inside the room. Perhaps a walk around the hotel would help you calm down. You’d probably get lost again and it would take hours for you to find your way back. The perfect distraction!

The walk was beginning to do the trick - you were so busy examining the different paintings and statues lining the corridors that you ended up at some random part of the hotel, too immersed in what you had found to overthink the kiss.

“A piano?” You walked into the small room, marveling at the beautiful ivory piano situated in a corner. 

“It looks like no one’s used this in years,” you muttered to yourself, opening the keylid and lightly running your fingers over the keys. “Shame… it looks so magnificent.”

An idea popped up in your head. When the Mins had found you 12 years ago, the only object in your possession had been a roughly folded set of sheet music. Yoongi had saved up enough money to buy a second hand piano - but there hadn’t been enough keys on it to play the last page of the sheet music. 

But this grand piano would do nicely. 

Sneaking a peak around the room, you made sure that no one else was there. The last thing you needed was for Madam Iris or anyone from her family to catch you here. 

“Okay, let’s try this.”

The first note sounded rich, and the tone was definitely of more superior quality than the one you had practiced on with Yoongi. As you continued playing the piece, your thoughts wandered over to the Mins. A wave of homesickness hit you suddenly and images of the cafe sailed through your mind - you wondered how they were doing. Was the cafe managing a little better now? Maybe you’d use one of the hotel’s telephones to call Yoongi and see how they were doing…

“Huh?” You stopped playing, confused by the sound coming from the key you had just played. 

You were now on the last page of the sheet music - your right hand on the highest scale available. The e flat key did not sound right, and you checked the sheet music to make sure you were playing the right one. 

“No… this seems right. Why does it sound off?” you wondered, pressing the key a little harder this time.

All of a sudden, there was a loud creak and one of the wooden panels behind you sprung open. You nearly fell off the piano stool in shock, just barely managing to hold on as you waited for someone to jump out from the shadows and attack you.

Thankfully, no one did. But the panel remained open, subtly inviting you inside.

“What’s the harm in checking it out?” you reasoned with yourself. “No one’s going to find out.”

And so, you stepped through the opening, walking into a very large room filled with trunks of different sizes, a few large cabinets, and dozens of pictures set up all over. It almost resembled some kind of store room. Upon closer inspection, you realized that all the pictures were of the same people - a young man with a soft smile, a very beautiful woman standing next to him, and a little girl who never seemed to be facing the camera when the picture was taken.

They looked so familiar. Like something out of a dream. A dream that you were struggling to grasp at as it slipped away into your subconscious. 

With every picture you examined, the ache inside your chest grew. Soon, there were tears falling from your eyes as an overwhelming rush of memories hit you like a ton of bricks. Your father showing you the different keys on the piano while your mother fussed about not having enough time to teach you how to write. Your grandmother talking you on walks through the property, telling you stories about how there used to be deer and rabbits before most of the greenery was cleared away. Your family showering you with so much love while you raced about the hotel making new friends, playing hide and seek, and dragging your best friend along with you.

“It can’t be…” you wiped away your tears furiously. “How can this be true…”

You sat down on one of the trunks, burying your face in your hands. Your head hurt. Your chest hurt. Everything hurt. You wanted to cry. You also wanted to punch your way through the hard stone walls. 

You felt… lost.

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked his wife, the fear very apparent in his voice.

Madam Iris snapped at him. “Of course I’m sure! Would I be joking about something like this?”

Anthony gulped and looked down at his hands. “So Adrian and Sophie’s kid is still alive… what if they are too?!”

“No, they’re not,” she replied, shaking her head definitely. “I saw their bodies in the crash. It was just that pesky kid I couldn’t find…”

“You don’t think she’s back for revenge, do you?” 

“I’m pretty sure she has no idea about her true identity,” Madam Iris contemplated. “But it’s better to not take any chances - we should get rid of her quickly. Before someone else realizes who she is.”

Anthony stared at his wife doubtfully. “Doesn’t that seem a little extreme? I mean… she’ll probably never figure it out if she hasn’t already.”

“My darling,” Madam Iris sat beside him and took his hand in hers. “How many times have I told you not to use that little brain of yours? It’s landed us in a fix quite a few times already. So please, leave the planning to me. And just do as I say.”

“You aren’t joking, right?”

Seokjin sighed and shook his head. He had been trying to explain everything to his mother for the past half an hour - but every few minutes, she would give him a skeptical look and ask if he was playing some kind of elaborate prank.

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

Chef Yuna rubbed her forehead tiredly. “It did catch me by surprise when she said her name was ‘y/n’. My mind immediately thought of the little girl running around the hotel, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Seokjin smiled softly, recalling all the memories he had of you when you were both children. 

“Including yours, if I remember correctly,” his mother teased him.

Seokjin’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat loudly. “I don’t know how to tell her… that she’s part of the Chavalenet family. Probably even the next heir if we consider the inheritance laws.”

Chef Yuna nodded her head. “The oldest child of the oldest child will inherit the property.”

She looked at her son who was busily examining the skin around his fingernails - a habit he had picked up around the time of his promotion. It signaled a great amount of anxiety inside him. 

“Maybe you should talk to Madam Eva about this,” she said, gently. “It’s probably the best course of action right now.”

Seokjin nodded his head. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that Madam Eva would have to be told about this revelation. It was the next logical step - she would be the best person to tell you the truth.

But his heart felt heavy. On one hand, he was incredibly glad that you were still alive - his childhood friend, the only person he ever remembered being really close to. On the other hand, this meant that both of you belonged in separate worlds - worlds which were leagues apart, worlds which didn’t have any place for each other.

A part of him, selfishly, wanted to keep the truth to himself, and be able to stay by your side for a bit longer. Over the past couple of days, he had come to the startling revelation that he had feelings for you - and the thought of never being able to act on those feelings made his heart clench painfully. 

He wanted to kiss you again - properly, this time. But now, even if you somehow managed to return his feelings, there was no way the two of you would ever work out.

Life was quite unfair sometimes.

Madam Eva had tears in her eyes as she hugged you tightly to her chest. Soft sobs wracked her entire person, and you patted her back awkwardly.

“My sweet child,” she managed to say between sobs. “My sweet y/n. I can’t believe that you’re here in front of me! That you’re alive! I missed you so much!”

Truth be told, you were very overwhelmed by everything that had been going on the past couple of days. You had even briefly contemplated running away and going back to the Mins. 

But then Seokjin had told Madam Eva the truth - the truth you had no idea he was aware of.

And that had stung.

“How long have you known?” you asked him, once things had quietened down a little. 

“Two days,” he replied. His eyes looked sad and that annoyed you even more. Why was he sad?! He was the one who had figured out your identity and then revealed it to your family without once thinking of telling you anything! If anyone should be sad, it should be you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone was clipped as you tried your best to control the anger underneath.

“Huh?” 

You uncrossed your arms from over your chest. “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me? I should’ve been the first to know! I’m the one it affects most! How could you not tell me?!”

Seokjin recoiled a little. “I- uh- wasn’t completely sure. I didn’t want to confuse you.”

You let out a mirthless laugh. “How considerate! You didn’t want to confuse me? Well how do you think I feel now?! I was ambushed by a family and a past that I wasn’t prepared to confront! I was barely able to wrap my head around the memories that suddenly assaulted me when the whole hotel came crashing down on me in tears and embraces! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL, SEOKJIN?!”

You were yelling now as tears streamed down your face. Seokjin attempted to reach out to you but you brushed his hand aside roughly.

“Don’t touch me.” The words felt like they were choking inside your throat. “And don’t talk to me. Ever.”

You didn’t have much time to yourself as the hotel began preparing celebrations in honor of your return. The first item on the agenda was a bonfire organized by your grandmother. Everyone was very excited about it because it had been years since she had actively taken part in any hotel event. 

“Feels like the good old days!” Chef Yuna said, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice. “You lot have never been to an event organized by Madam Eva - they’re really a once in a lifetime kind of experience!”

It was just around dusk that everyone gathered around a large bonfire, prepared for an evening of song, dance, and wonderful food. The guests along with the hotel staff were extremely excited about the bonfire, but there were three faces that looked like they would rather be anywhere else but here.

The first was Madam Iris, whose hazel eyes burned with a cold anger as she watched everyone fuss over you. The second was her husband, Anthony Farrow, who looked pale and kept glancing at his wife nervously. And the third was you, who felt like you deserved none of this and couldn’t reconcile whatever was going on with what you had known for so many years.

“It has been many years since my heart felt any kind of joy,” Madam Eva began, looking around with a bright smile. “As many of you know, I lost my husband 15 years ago, and shortly afterwards, my son and daughter-in-law were killed in a car crash. All these years, I thought that I had lost my darling granddaughter as well - but somehow, the heavens have granted me a miracle. It’s been so many years since I last saw you, my dear y/n, and I cannot express how happy I am to see you again.”

Everyone clapped and cheered as she gave you another hug. Maybe you didn’t deserve it, but it felt nice to be showered with so much love and affection. You just wished you could remember something more - you had absolutely no memory of the car accident that had killed your parents even though many other little details about your past were very clear. 

“Please, everyone help yourselves to the food and drinks prepared by our talented Chef Yuna and her incredible team!”

Halfway through the event, everyone had scattered to different parts of the grounds. Besides the main bonfire, a number of small heating devices had been set up so that people could stay warm outdoors. 

You had just finished a small plate filled with dishes Chef Yuna had made. They were all incredible but everything felt like sandpaper in your mouth. You wondered when it would be okay for you to go back inside without it looking too impolite. 

Trudging back to the bonfire, you noticed that only Madam Iris was sitting there. You were in no mood to interact with her - she hadn’t been subtle about expressing her dislike towards you even after finding out who you really were.

Just before you could turn back, she stood up and walked over to pick up something that had fallen on the ground. She was wearing a billowy black cloak over her expensive clothes and the bonfire behind her illuminated her silhouette like…

The air is full of smoke. You cough and sit up, looking around for your parents.

“Mum! Dad!” you yell, coughing furiously. “Wh-where are you?!”

The smoke is getting in your eyes and you rub at them to try and clear your vision. You try and get up but the shooting pain in your left leg stops you. There’s a huge gash below your knee, red and brown as the dirt on the road mixes with your blood. 

“Mum! Dad!” you scream again, hoping that they might finally hear you. “Help me, please!”

Suddenly, a huge explosion rocks the area, sending you flying into the nearest obstacle. 

Your back hurts as you try and sit up again, trying to see where the explosion came from. Your eyes catch sight of a brilliant orange light, roaring against the night sky. 

A fire. 

And in front of the fire, stands a figure in a black cloak, looking so frightening that you start crying in fear.

“HELP!” you yell, struggling to get to your feet. 

The figure is getting closer and something inside you knows that you need to get away from it.

“HELP ME! PLEASE!” You have somehow managed to stand up, but fear keeps you paralyzed in place.

A sudden gust of wind blows through the night, shifting the direction of the embers, and you catch a glimpse of their face.

Suddenly, the ground beneath you wobbles and you find yourself hurtling down the side of the road. You try desperately to grab onto something but your momentum is too strong. You finally come to a stop after crashing into a tree, the last of your consciousness slipping away as the face comes back to haunt you.

It is your aunt, Iris.

“It was you!” you screamed, as the memories came back - the car crash, the chase that led to the crash, your parents’ frantic voices, your mother pushing you out of the car before it crashed. “You were there that night! You were chasing our car that night! You’re the one who watched us crash and didn’t do anything about it! You killed my parents!”

Madam Iris glared at you with unbridled hatred. “Shut up! Just SHUT UP! You ruined everything, you stupid little bitch! I was this close to getting everything!”

A fight ensued as Iris attacked you with all her might. At one point, Anthony joined in as well, and you were worried that you would be outnumbered. But somehow, Seokjin managed to find you and subdued Anthony quickly. After that, it didn’t take long for you to get the better of Iris - a few punches and she was down. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked her, panting for breath. 

She sat down by the tree, exhausted, but spitting venom from her eyes. “Fuck you.”

It turned out that Iris didn’t need to say anything. As soon as your grandmother had looked at Anthony sternly, the frightened man had opened his mouth and spilled each and every one of his wife’s secrets. It was quite a sad story overall. 

On that fateful night, 12 years ago, your father had found the ‘treasure’. Both he and Iris had been looking for it for days, believing that it was either a lot of priceless jewels or some very important property papers. After your father had found it, he had tried his best to keep it hidden, but Iris had found out about it anyway. A huge argument had taken place, following which your father had decided to run away with you and your mother. You had all snuck out in the middle of the night, driving off in a car with some of your belongings. Iris had given chase and watched as the car had crashed and then burst into flames. She had also believed that you had rolled down the edge of the road to your death. 

Over the past 12 years, she had tried to find out where your father had hidden the treasure, but did not succeed. In fact, it was you who had stumbled across it the night that you had found the hidden room behind the wooden panel. 

Alas! The treasure was not so much a treasure as a horrific surprise. Your grandfather had apparently sold off the hotel a few days before his death - and hidden the fact from everyone, including his wife and children. However, he had hidden the legal papers so that neither the new owners nor his family would ever be able to prove the fact. It was one last ridiculous game he had played before succumbing to all his vices. 

Iris’ grand plans of selling the hotel citing financial losses - which she had orchestrated herself - had also been foiled by the discovery of those papers. She and Anthony had been taken into police custody for further questioning. 

Your grandmother had taken the news of the sale relatively well. She had immediately packed her bags and left to visit the new owners, hoping to garner some goodwill in the process.

All of this had happened in a matter of a few hours, and you had completely forgotten about the injuries you had sustained from fighting your aunt. So, that was why you were currently sitting in the room behind the front desk, trying not to fidget as Seokjin tended to your wounds.

“That was… an interesting series of events,” he said, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I never really liked that woman but I definitely didn’t think she was that crazy.”

You remained silent. Seokjin continued to clean the cuts and scrapes carefully. Once again, you noticed how he gently held the cotton swab but then shook it vigorously to get the excess antiseptic off. It was strangely endearing, and made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Jin?” you used your nickname for him. 

He looked up from the cut on your knee, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Do you have any rose gummy bears?”

He blinked a few times before smiling and nodding his head. Quickly finishing up with the rest of injuries, he asked you to wait while he raided the secret stash. 

“Here.” He handed you a small bag full of his favorite gummy bears and sat down next to you.

You gave him a small smile and took out a couple of gummy bears, swiftly popping them into your mouth. Seokjin said nothing, waiting patiently for you to finish eating as many as you wanted.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, after a while.

“Of course.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Seokjin’s ears turned red as he stared at the wall in front of him. His side profile was so gorgeous, soft lines defining his strong features. 

“Can I?” you asked, making him turn towards you. “Not to distract you. Not to prevent people from finding us. Nothing like that. Just” - you tilted your head to one side - “because I want to.”

He nodded his head slowly, giving you the permission you hadn’t asked for the last time. 

You drew him closer and softly kissed his lips. After a few seconds, he responded as well, cupping your cheek with his hand, and returning your kisses with enthusiasm.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, in between kisses. “Why do you want to kiss me?”

You pulled away and frowned at him. “You’re an ass. Why do you think I want to?”

He grinned, kissing you behind each ear and starting a slow path down your neck. “Indulge me.”

“It’s because- ugh!” you gasped as he nipped at the sensitive spot near your collarbone. “Because - because -”

He stopped his assault on your neck, eyes twinkling playfully. “Because?”

“Two can play at this game,” you muttered, incredibly embarrassed and equally turned on. You moved over to sit on his lap, grinding against him while leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. Once his entire neck was sufficiently covered with light nips, you moved back to his lips, kissing him deep and hard.

“Y/n,” he gasped into your mouth. “I’m going to explode.”

“Are you now?” you whispered, swiping your tongue into his mouth and feeling your insides curl with pleasure. “Good.”

“I’m serious,” he managed to say between some very loud moans. “I’ll ruin my pants if we keep going like this.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping off and making quick work of his belt buckle. “Take it off then.”

“W-what?” he choked, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Take off your pants.” You raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down carefully. “Do you know how many times I've thought about seeing that cock of yours after walking in on you doing morning stretches? Why the hell would you wear such tiny tennis shorts anyway?"

If possible, Seokjin's ears turned even more red. "A-are you sure? We don't need to rush or anything."

"Yeah, we don't. But I want to. So," you said, rubbing your palms along his legs. "Take off your pants."

Seokjin grinned, the cheeky glint back in his eyes. "If you insist. But I'm not going to be the only one losing their pants."

"With pleasure," you replied.

The pants were off and soon, the two of you were back to kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. His tongue ravaged your mouth while one of his hands dropped down between your legs and started rubbing you over your panties.

"Feels - mhmm - so good." You matched the rhythm of his fingers, bucking your hips into his hand. Your hand also moved down from his neck and palmed his cock, drawing the most delicious moans from him. Very soon your top and his shirt joined the pile of pants, leaving you both in just your underwear.

"Y/n," Seokjin groaned, taking in the sight of your breasts. "You're so hot."

The two of you remained like that for a bit, almost completely naked, tongues down each others' throats and hands rubbing each other into ecstasy. You felt wetness between your legs, clenching violently when he parted your panties and stroked you between your folds.

"Fuck..." you moaned into his mouth.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he mumbled into your mouth. "Do you want me to use my mouth?"

Your brain could barely process what he had said, but you nodded anyway, senses hazy with pleasure.

"Okay, lie down for me, y/n" he said, pulling away from you. "Let me make you feel good."

You lay down on the sofa, legs parted, as Seokjin hovered over you. "So beautiful. So wet."

He began peppering your inner thighs with light kisses, making you squirm in pleasure. Making his way to your core at an agonizingly slow pace, he finally removed your panties and licked a stripe between your folds.

"Jin! Fuck! I-" Your hips shot up at the intense feeling.

He paid no heed to your moans, licking and slurping your pussy until you were absolutely on the edge.

"I'm close! Please!"

Seokjin plunged a finger inside, using his other hand to keep your legs down. The sensation of his long, slender finger inside you combined with the sight of his head between your thighs was enough for you to reach your climax.

Stars exploded in your vision as the orgasm rocked through you. Seokjin continued his beautiful work on your pussy until you breathed a shaky sigh of pleasure.

"Did you like it?" he asked, teasingly. There was no way he could've missed your screams of pleasure.

"How about I show you just how much I liked it?" you asked, sitting up and playing with the band of his underwear.

Seokjin smirked and quickly shimmied out of his underwear. "Be my guest."

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock - it was huge. Would he even be able to fit?

"Tell me what feels good," you said, licking long stripes up and down his length. Precum was leaking from his tip already, and you used your tongue to tease him further. Seokjin moaned, gripping the fabric of the sofa as you sucked his cock a few times.

"Don't tease, y/n," he managed with a lot of difficulty. "I don't think I can control myself for much longer."

Pressing a few small kisses to his tip, you leaned back and positioned yourself in front of him. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

A pained expression crossed his face as he took in the sight of you kneeling on your knees, waiting for him to cum.

"Maybe next time," he said, pulling you up to him and placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Right now, I want to be inside you."

"Are you sure?" you asked, returning his kiss.

"Yeah, but let's hurry," he mumbled, taking his throbbing red cock in his hand.

You laid down on the sofa again, spreading your legs for him. He positioned the tip of his cock in front of your entrance, rubbing you a few times before entering slowly.

"Tell me if it's too much," he whispered into your ear, before placing kisses all over your face and neck.

"Mm hmm,"you mumbled, getting used to the stretch.

Seokjin moved his mouth from your neck to your breast, placing sloppy kisses on the mounds before taking one of them in his mouth. You shuddered with pleasure as his tongue swirled around your nippled.

Your senses were getting overwhelmed again - Seokjin had started thrusting into you while simultaneously moving his mouth onto your other breast.

"Is this okay?" he managed between thrusts, his voice hoarse and delightfully sexy.

"Y-yeah, just do what you need to," you said, gripping his biceps with all your might.

He grunted in response, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The room was filled with the sounds of both your moans, and you knew that a second orgasm was building.

Just then, a shrill ring sounded through the room, startling you both. Seokjin barely managed to keep himself from falling off the sofa, placing a hand over his chest as he looked around wildly.

It was the telephone.

Seokjin sighed and pulled out of you, quickly going over to pick up the receiver.

"How can I help you?" he asked, standing there in his full naked glory.

You bit your lip as you drank in the sight of him - from his rippling shoulder muscles to his abs to his tapering waist and dangling cock.

"Of course, madam. But it is currently 2 in the morning. Please call after 7 am in order to make a reservation. Thank you. Have a good night."

Clicking the receiver in place, he rushed back to you, jumping onto the sofa with a smirk.

"Now where were we?"

this took me 2 hours to format on the site T_T i am exhausted. please give it some love! i would love to know what you thought of this story! please like and reblog! thank you! tagging @yoongsgguktae​ @sugamonster22​ @anglofmrcy​ @blue1928​ @jinpanman​ @thatlongspringnight​ @thatmultifandomhoe​ 

[davidmann95]

New Superman show! Thoughts?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the new Superman animated series?

cheerfullynihilistic said: Thoughts on the new HBO Max DC animated shows?

Anonymous said: A NEW SUPERMAN CARTOON!!!!!! WOOOHOOOO!!!! Also another Batman cartoon. That looks cool too

jcogginsa said: NEW SUPERMAN CARTOON!

Anonymous said: So what do you want from the new animated show? It seems to be about a “Year 2” Superman which suits me perfectly, I just want fun adventures with the trio. We’ve still got S&L and the animated movies for a more “mature” take on Superman if this is too childish.

deathchrist2000 said: So they’re making a new Superman cartoon about him falling for Lois. Thoughts?

As it happens I had to wake up much earlier than usual today, so I saw the Batman announcement pretty much as soon as it happened. I had the car ride to the comic book store to think about it, mulled over the notion that while I like Batman too much to be resentful about this it was of course notable that there was no accompanying Superman announcement, leading me to conclude that hey, they should make a Superman cartoon too, a blistering spark of unprecedented inspiration to be sure. Then since I was early I checked my phone while waiting for the store to open, and I believe I audibly yelped.

In the order they were announced: psyched for Caped Crusader! I guess this is what the ‘BTAS is coming back!’ rumors a few months ago were about, and if this basically is “BTAS but serialized, getting to go heavier, and with modern production values”, I’m more than onboard with these names attached. Assuming Abrams’ role is mostly ceremonial, and hoping since he wasn’t in the original Hollywood Reporter headline with the other two Timm’s is mostly aesthetic (the degree to which his input beyond that could be a good thing depends on how much his uncomfortable horniness can be reigned in. Not even saying anything less than exceedingly horny, just don’t have Bruce and Barbara hook up again), this looks to be mainly Reeves’ baby which really shows how far WB is investing in him as the shepherd of their biggest IP. Must be a dream gig for him, getting to do his versions of the big hyper-modern unique reinvention and the classic iconic take at the same time: between that, Timm getting to go in the darker direction he always wanted, and Abrams getting to put his name on a thing everybody already likes again the way we know that guy loves, everybody’s getting what they want with this one. I can’t imagine this not turning out well.

Additionally, controversial take: despite the Timm design hoping this isn’t another Conroy return, we all love him but he’s phoned it in for a bit now and this should scream new as much as possible.

So first off: love that title. What a joyful, clever, lovely spin on an old standard.

Second: love this setup, aesthetic, and apparent tone! Instantly love this Clark and especially this Lois and their dynamic from the one image alone, I’m not familiar with Jake Wyatt’s work but taking a quick glance I’m very glad to see he’s part of this, and getting folks from the Voltron and She-Ra reboots sends a clear message as if the art wasn’t enough of what kind of thing this is going to try to be. Which is pretty much a perfect tack for a modern Superman cartoon: tell the 20-somethings who watched Adventure Time and Steven Universe and the like “hey, this is like those, but focused on your new age group”, and the kids watching Infinity Train and Owl House “hey this is like those but Superman”. If nothing else doing a show rooted around superheroism as a metaphor for the 20s experience rather than being a teenager is a relatively unique tack (as far as mass-media goes PS4 Spider-Man is the only other one that leaps out at me), and anchoring it and the adventures around the slice-of-life escapades and growth of Lois, Clark, and Jimmy as a trio of friends ala Morrison’s Action rather than the traditional duo with a sidekick is inspired. Gut instinct, but I have a feeling this is gonna be a revelatory Lois interpretation in particular. And if All-Star was Jack Quaid’s reading for inspiration as Clark, well, that’s sure not a bad sign either.

(The above’s from reddit, I guess some concept art from early enough that the title wasn’t finalized; the person who leaked this said the girl on the right is a member of the Newsboy Legion, now the Newskid Legion.)

(Also glad to see he's in his real clothes but if he's starting the show figuring the identity out, and there's some Morrison influence, they could do worse than to have him start in the t-shirt and jeans.)

20 years since the last proper Superman on TV, and now we’re getting two shows at once! One of them Superman for KIDS, if you can imagine such a thing. Between My Adventures With Superman as an early days, poppy all-ages series, Superman & Lois as a drama acting as the de facto sequel to pretty much every prior mass-media Superman take, and the upcoming movie apparently being a fairly standalone prestige reinvention, it really feels like all the bases are being covered. Hot damn, he’s well and truly back. Worth the inevitable agonizing hellpit discourse surrounding the franchise now that it’ll be a young adult animated series open to that scale of criticism, and as noted in my Twitter mentions, while not lining up in the strictest chronological sense, in terms of paving the way for this Superman in the collective cultural headspace McKenna Jean Harris probably deserves some royalties, or at least to get to work on the show.

Anonymous said: DC giveth and DC taketh away. We get a new Superman cartoon!... and an Injustice movie. Oh well it was inevitable right? Disappointed they’re doing Injustice before Kingdom Come though, and the petty side of me hopes we get a Metal adaption with the evil Batmen down the road.

Anonymous said: Injustice is finally getting adapted. That sucks but it looks like they’re adapting the first game’s story?

lol, two out of three ain’t bad

Really don’t care, this whipped up some Twitter mentions but basically no one especially gives a shit about these DTV joints at this point anyway (even if Man of Tomorrow turned out really solid) and the contrast today is a particularly humiliating one. So sure, do this too while you’re at it, a friend noted their new burgeoning shared universe sets it up to adapt the original ‘good Earth V evil Earth’ plot pretty well but it hardly matters.

[willow-tree-writes]

✾Bet {3}✾

JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: The good girl finally realizes the catch as to why such a bad boy would go for her. But the bad boy has a catch in his own heart and he can’t shake it or figure out why.

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas! I’m so sorry this took so long! But I wanted to get it out today for all of you! And thank you so much for 100 followers! I’m thinking about making a prompt list, so if you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst

Part 1 ♥ Part 2  ♥

!I don’t own this gif!

“Put me down!” You laugh as you struggle in the arms of JJ.

He simply shook his head and spun around in a circle, effectively spinning you in a circle.

You caught a blob of yellow amidst the spinning, desperately trying to recall who you saw wearing that color today. “Kie! A little help please?”

You couldn’t see it, but Kie smiled and crossed her arms. “Sorry, Y/N, but I’m with JJ for this one. Goblet of Fire is not the best one.”

You groaned, giving up trying to get out of JJ’s arms.

JJ decided after a couple more dates that you should start hanging out with his friends. Today you were supposed to all go out on the HMS Pogue and have a day on the water, but a storm got in the way of that. So, instead, you were having a movie marathon.

You weren’t the kind of person to get sick when dizzy, but you also weren’t the kind of person that got this dizzy.

“JJ, please.” You begged with another laugh.

He eventually gave in, but it wasn’t right away. He spun you around maybe two or three more times before dropping you down on the coach with a thump.

“Is the argument over?” John B and Pope peeked their heads from behind a door, pretending to hide and be all scared. They actually had gone over there to grab some blankets.

Kie laughs and looks between you, who is motionless facing down on the couch, and JJ, who is standing over you. “For now.”

The two boys came over and tossed a couple blankets down on the couch. One of which fell right over and covered you.

You felt the blanket be pulled off. “Come on, Y/N. You’re hoggin’ the couch.”

“I’m one with the couch.”

You could tell he didn’t want to laugh at that, but cracked a smile nonetheless. “If you say so, couch.”

Slow and steady, like a turtle, JJ started to sit himself down on your back. He was going slow to let time for you to get up before he put his full body weight on you.

You weren’t budging.

You weren’t budging until he sat fully down, crossed his arms, and leaned back.

You were budging.

“Okay, okay. Please get off me! JJ!” Your voice was muffled by the cushions, but you weren’t that hard to hear.

He listened the first time with this and got up basically immediately. “Still one with the couch?” He pulled you up by your arms and made sure you were sitting up straight.

“That’s for me to know and you to figure out.” You sit back and cross your arms.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough bickering.” Pope cut in, sitting down next to Kie. John B and JJ both sat on their side of you. “Are we gonna watch the next movie now?”

Everyone collectively nodded their heads. 

As the title screen played out, your head drifted down to JJ’s shoulder. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively. 

It was a moment like this that got you wondering why he chose you.

----

“He’s not gonna ask for a second date.” You shook your head before taking a sip from your milkshake. 

Di and Kelly looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “And why is that?”

You set down your drink on the table and got ready to start listing things. “I barely talked. He did a lot of it.” You were using your fingers to count your reasons. “He is probably one of, if not, the hottest guys at school, and I’m a potato. I have the personality of one too. I-”

Kelly cut you off before you could finish the overflowing list. “First one, perfectly normal. You’re shy. Second, you can be hot when you want to be. And third, your personality is amazing. He will see that once he gets to know you more.”

You groaned and took another sip of your shake. “Aren’t you supposed to be shopping with Mom?”

“You’re just saying that cause you know I’m right.” Kelly laughed.

Rolling your eyes, you repeat, “He’s not gonna ask for a second date.” This time, you were a little more certain of it.

Di sat up, as if getting an idea suddenly.

That idea was immediately forgotten when your phone chimed, signally a text.

Before you could make any more to grab it, Di had it in her hand and was looking at it.

“Come on, give me my phone.” You sighed, reaching for the device.

She made no move to hand it back to you as a smile grew on her face. “I think he’s asking for a second date.”

She turned your phone to face you, and there it was: a text from JJ asking when you were free next.

You normally would lie about this, but there were two people to witness it. It being the smile that stretched across your cheeks that made them hurt.

----

JJ took his eyes off the movie for a second to glance down at you. What was meant to be a quick look turned into a patient stare.

You had curled your hair for the day, but the rain made it just a complete mess. You were wearing one of his shirts, since your cover up didn’t cover much up when you got soaked. Everyone’s clothes had dried by now, but he could tell you were closer than usual for warmth.

He realized he was looking for a bit too long and quickly looked back to the movie.

Why did his gaze always seem to linger on you? It was just a bet. Why did he feel like smiling every time he caught even a glimpse of your face? It was just a bet. 

Why did his heart feel weird and different when her hand brushed his?

She’s not just a bet anymore.

----

“You gotta tell her the truth.” John B hit JJ on the shoulder as the hammock had swung close enough.

JJ sighed and threw his head back. “I know, I know. Geez. Just give it like a week more. Douchey will make his move, and you guys won’t be JJ-less for a day at a time.”

Kie rolled her eyes at JJ’s laxness with the subject. “That’s not why you need to tell her.”

“Come on, Kie. Don’t give me this bullshit again.” JJ got up off the hammock and grabbed a beer. “I’m not gonna hurt her.”

She shakes her head. “You will if she starts liking you.” 

No one considered JJ might start liking her.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t get to that point.” JJ shrugged and got back on the hammock.

JJ didn’t consider JJ might start liking her.

“Dude, none of us took the bet for a reason - it’s fucked up.” John B tossed his second empty beer can over towards the trashcan Kie set out.

No one considered JJ felt bad for leading her on.

JJ groaned as Pope jumped in. “It’s not right to lead someone on like this.”

JJ didn’t consider JJ felt bad for leading her on.

“Look,” he got up once again. “I get it, okay? Gavin’s a fucked up dude for coming up with this idea. But I’m not gonna let it get too far. I’m gonna try and not do anything stupid to hurt anyone.”

----

JJ gave you a ride home. It might not have been the best idea - two teenagers riding on a motorbike in the rain - but it was better than walking.

When he got to your house, JJ tried to get as close to the front door as he could before hopping off. He gave you a hand to help you off before taking off his jacket and holding it above you two.

“Sorry this date went so fucking downhill.” He started walking with you to the door.

You laughed a little and shook your head, walking close to him. “It didn’t. I had a really nice time, just hanging out.”

You both stopped in front of the door. “Then I guess this could be a weekly thing, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tried to dim down the smile on your face, but your cheeks were already starting to hurt. Going on your tippy toes, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning and grabbing the door knob.

JJ’s hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Wait a second.”

You give him a playful sigh, turning to face him again dramatically. “JJ, if I stand out in the cold any longer, I’m gonna get sick.” You joke.

He smirked a little. “Then I can take care of you. You know, make you some nice, warm, chicken noodle soup.”

“JJ.” You laugh.

“Alright alright, I don’t know how to make soup. But I can try. And I’ll do a damn good job trying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “What do you want?”

With a cocky smile, he said, “A proper kiss.” He stooped down to your level. “I’ll make it easier on you.”

You knew however you responded, he wasn’t going to let you go until he got what he wanted.

You bit your lip to pull away your smile before leaning in. “Only one,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

It felt like the first time, and you never wanted that to change.

He was the one who pulled away first, surprising you a little. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Red.”

“Wait, what?” You called out as he started to back away. You were confused as to why you would be seeing each other tomorrow, and why he called you red.

He chuckled a little, getting onto his motorbike. “There’s a kegger tomorrow. I better see you there.” 

Before you could object or ask anything else, JJ gave you a little wave and rode off to the Cut.

Why the hell did he call you ‘Red?’

----

You got out of the car just in time for it to speed off, not even waiting for the door to close.

“Your brother is kind of an ass.” You shake your head as you walk with Di the rest of the way to the boneyard.

She laughed a little and hooked her arm with yours. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Can’t wait for him to go off to college.”

You laugh and shake your head as you make it to the boneyard. The kegger was already in full swing. Not that you expected anything less.

Di nudged you a little. “So, are we gonna go talk to you boyfriend and all his friends?” 

You couldn’t help the blush that trailed up your neck and over your face and ears. You had yet to call each other ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend.’ “If you want…” You tried to shrug it off, but the damage had been down.

She practically squealed at your reaction and grabbed your hand to drag you over. “You’re too slow!”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or to roll your eyes. So you decided to laugh. Laugh, at least, until you bumped into someone’s back.

You heard Di start cracking up laughing beside you. “Good job, Y/N!”

Rolling your eyes slightly, you take a step back and look up at who you bumped into. “I’m so sorry.”

You vaguely recognized the guy before you. If you heard his name, you’d be like, “Oh, right.” Maybe it started with a G…

“Whatever.” He didn’t so much as look at you as he walked away.

“Rude…” You mumble, shaking your head.

Di grabbed your hand again and continued to drag you. “But hot af!”

You wanted to cringe. “You did not just say ‘af’ instead of ‘as fuck,’ did you?”

She laughed. “I did, and I won’t take it back.” She abruptly stopped and you almost smashed right into her back. Today apparently wasn’t your day. “Now introduce me!”

She nudged you forward as she whisper-yelled right in your ear. 

“Okay, okay.” You approached the five figures that Di stopped at. All their backs were turned to you, so you had to tap the boy in the center’s shoulder.

He spun around and a smile instantly spread across his face upon seeing you. It was a natural smile. “Hey, Red.” A smile he wouldn’t just give to anyone.

“Hi, JJ.” You still weren’t completely sure as to why he called you ‘Red.’ It didn’t make any sense.

“This,” you gesture to Di, who waves at everyone, “is my best friend, Di.”

Intros were done pretty quickly; everyone just said their name and started up a new conversation that involved the two girls.

It had maybe been half an hour when Sarah, a well known Kook and girlfriend to John B, JJ’s best friend, had pulled you off to the side. After, of course, JJ untangled himself from you (with much dismay).

“I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve talked.” Sarah started once you were a good distance away.

You laughed a little and nodded. “Yeah, about five years, I think.”

The two of you chit-chatted, just catching up with each other.

It hadn’t ever occurred to you that dating the JJ Maybank would be good for you. That he would get you to do new things. Meet and talk to new people. Just enjoy life like you should.

After a moment, something popped into your mind. “Oh! I’ll be right back, I need to ask JJ something.” He had done so much for you, you wanted to do a little something for him.

You walked up to the group, furrowing your eyebrows a little. “Where’s JJ?” You ask, noticing it was just John B, Pope, Kie, and Di talking.

The three Pogues looked between each other, as if they were trying to think of something to say.

“He went home.”

“He went to get another drink.”

“He’s in the water.”

They all spoke at the same time, and each answer made you even more confused. Something wasn’t right.

You take a quick glance around, noticing JJ a few feet away, talking to the guy you bump into earlier. You glance back at the group, feeling like your head was spinning. “He’s right there…”

Glancing at Di, she shrugs to you as you start your way over to the two.

“Y/N, wait!” Kie called out to stop you. “Don’t… Just wait for him to come back over.”

You turn and look at her. You had known Kie when you were younger, but kind of grew apart as you both changed. It was nice to connect with her again, but you couldn’t yet understand what went on in her head.

“I’ll just be quick.”

All the others seemed to want you to also stay, but you didn’t understand why. And if they weren’t going to tell you, you’d figure out yourself.

Both of their backs were turned to you, which you were a little surprised with. If this conversation was so important that you couldn’t interrupt it, they’d at least want to see if you were coming.

“Does $200 cover it?”

You knew listening in on conversations wasn’t the right thing to do, but you couldn’t help it.

“Dude, look-” JJ was trying to say something but the guy, maybe his name was Gavin, cut him off.

“We are so close. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Gavin handed JJ something.

“I’ll give you a little more next time. Believe me, Y/N can be a bore.”

What? Why were you a part of this? And a bore?

“How much longer do you want me to do this?” There was something in JJ’s voice you couldn’t discern.

Gavin patted JJ on the back. “I know, I know, Y/N’s hard to date. But, if you can at least keep dating her for two weeks, I’ll triple your paycheck.”

What? 

“Gavin, I-”

“You’re dating me for money?”

The shock coursed through every part of you as you tried to comprehend what you heard, and even what you said.

Both boys turned around, JJ a little more quickly than Gavin.

“Y/N-”

You shook your head, taking a step back as he tried to get close to you. “I should have known....” You mumbled, trying to hold back the tears you felt reaching the peak of your eyes.

He reached out for you, but you didn’t want him to touch you. You did, but you didn’t. “I can explain.”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You snap, letting a couple of tears out. “I actually thought you liked me…”

“Just listen, Y/N-”

“No!” You were a little louder than you had wanted to be, as unwanted eyes turned. “Fuck you, JJ. Enjoy your money. I hope it was worth it.”

You turned your back on him and just started to walk away. You didn’t care if anyone was trying to talk to you or stop you - you just wanted to get out of there.

Di came up beside you and hooked her arm in yours, repeating reassurances to you. They didn’t work.

JJ watched as you retreated.

The look on your face had broken something he didn’t think could be broken anymore. The shake of your voice and quiver of your lips sent him to a place he had been before, but was new to him.

He cleared his throat a little, looking towards his friends. The friends that tried to warn him. That tried to stop you from learning the truth too soon. The friends that gave him sympathetic looks that had a hint of disappointment.

“Damn, everything was going so well…” Gavin muttered, shaking his head. “If you can do some major accident repair, I’ll-”

JJ snapped his head to look at Gavin. “Shut up.” He spit, shaking his head. “Shut the fuck up.”

---- ----

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[punk-rock-unicorn]

The Library

Fandom: MCU

Pairings: Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: Bucky and Sam take a pit stop in London before going to Madripoor. Bucky does not trust any line Zemo has on a fence. To bad you are not the better option.

A/N: My first Tumblr post and my first attempt at a reader/you centered story. Hopefully, it is good. May make a sequel to this. For right now it will just stay Teen for Sexual Tension.

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"Where are we even going?" Sam asked as he trailed after Bucky. Their unwelcome tag along followed at their heels. His coat fitting the rainy city more than Sam's own clothes as they walked. The neighborhood they were in was filled with tall buildings and the city of London was confusing. Bucky scowled but did not respond just yet. His eyes glued to his phone as he looked at it. He dodged a man who did not even glance at the odd group. Or seemed to notice the terrorist following at their heels. "Seriously man where are we...?" Sam asked annoyed as his hand reached out to grab Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky turned around with a glare directed at the other man. His eyes slipping to Zemo who only looked around the British city curiously. "I swore it was somewhere near here," he said and looked around the dreary city that had a slight drizzle of rain falling from the city. "I know we are close," he added before turning around and continuing walking. Sam looked at his back before shifting his eyes to Zemo who only did a tilt to his head.

"Seriously Bucky!" He called as he walked after him. He ignored the man following him as well as he could. At this point they were just using him for his jet. Though what Bucky wanted in London was anyone's guess. "What the fuck are you looking for?" Sam asked with an almost yell.

"Not a what," Bucky called over his shoulder. "A who." The tall man swore as he looked around the buildings that all looked the same.

"Wouldn't happen to be looking for me would you?" A slight British accented voice called before stepping out of an alleyway towards the three. The three men tensed and looked towards the person coming out of the shadows. A simple black jacket and trousers all they had on.

"Had to make it hard to find you didn't you?" Bucky called after calling your name. You had watched the boys since they entered the neighborhood curious on their location and where they needed to go. Not that it was that hard to figure out considering Bucky had texted you while you were gone. You smirked at the man and stepped closer with your hands in your pockets.

"Good to see you, Bucky," you greeted and your eyes slipped to the other two. One you knew from your adventure on the battlefield against Thanos. "Sam Wilson," you said and nodded to him with a smile. The second man you recognized as well but for a totally different reason. "Is there a reason Helmut Zemo is wandering around London free from prison?" You asked the two with a raised eyebrow.

"Bucky did it," Sam said simply with the same energy of a sibling tattling to their mother. Your eyes met the terrorist's eyes curiously. He had brown eyes and a beautiful face. His outfit was also stylish and the fur on his collar unique enough.

"Technically, he did that himself," Bucky muttered under his breath with a shrug. You released a sigh and rubbed at your face. "Can you bring us inside?" He asked you and you sighed.

"Fine," you said and looked around the street. It was empty and you walked a couple feet forward to face a nondescript building. With a flash of gold glyphs and a rippling of air the building unlocked. Sam and Bucky did not look surprised but Zemo did. You smirked at him. "Welcome to the London Sanctum of Magic," you said as you entered the building with the rich and warm interior. "Please touch nothing. I am the only Sorceress here at this time."

With that you led them to a nice sitting room with comfy couches. The interior was very British and almost ancient in design. You had always hated it growing up honestly. It felt too stuffy but now it was fine. Not that you had time to bitch about interior decorating choices. "So can I interest any of you gentleman in a cup of tea?" You asked and smiled at the group as they sat in the chairs provided.

Bucky and Sam sitting on one love seat while Zemo sat in an arm chair. "No," Bucky said before anyone else could. You saw Zemo open his mouth to say something but shut it at a glare from Bucky. "We need your help," he added with a scowl. His eyes glaring at Zemo who said nothing. Though he was looking at you curiously.

"Sorry I am not a psychiatrist," you said with a sarcastic smile. "Have you tried the place three blocks away? They have amazing biscuits." Bucky and Sam glared at you though it lacked any true heat. The criminal mastermind terrorist however chuckled under his breath. His eyes were deviously interesting you had to say. Something about him drew the eye. Or maybe it had been a long time where your only interaction was either Doctor Strange, Wong, or young initiates.

"We need to go to Madripoor," Bucky explained and you barely withheld your snort at the mention of that horrible place. "You mentioned that you had a line on someone."

"What and Daddy Warbucks can't help you?" You groused as you stared at the three. You sat on the arm of one chair and you watched a smirk curl the man's face.

"Well I could always be your dad-" he started to say when Sam exclaimed loudly in disgust. You threw your head back with a laugh. It had been a long time since you could have this much fun verbally sparring with someone.

"Now is not the time!" Sam cried out with a sneer. You snorted and looked at all three. "You have seen the news right? The Flag Smashers. They have super soldiers. We need to find who supplied the formula." Sam was trying to beseech to your desire to save others. Too bad he was barking up the wrong tree.

"Mate," you answered with a scoff. "I am a sorceress. My job is to protect this Sanctum, train initiates, protect artifacts, and listen to the Sorcerer Supreme, which you are not. I have no reason to care about some terrorists. No offense." You looked at Zemo and shrugged. He answered with a tight lipped smile.

"We just need your contact's information in case his line falls through," Bucky said as he tried to get between you and Sam. You met Bucky's eyes and glared as he gave you an almost puppy dog look. Damn him. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

"Fine," you hissed and stood up. "But it will have to wait till tomorrow. I'll send a message and hopefully get a response. Let me go get my phone. Bloody hell. I hate heroes." You grumbled and moved out of the sitting room. "Library is that way and kitchen that way," you said poking your head back in. "If the book looks ancient and probably bound in human skin do not touch it. Be right back."

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You grumbled and stared at the sent text before stepping back downstairs. You threw your jacket over a table in the library before stepping into the room. "Machiavelli," you heard a voice call as a gloved finger ran over the backs. "Epictetus, and some good classics here." You turned around to see the Baron of Sokovia pretty much fingering the spine of the books. "Do you actually have books bound in skin?" He asked and you smirked at him.

"Probably," you said with a laugh. "My parents always warned me about them. Most of our more important books are in the other part of the library." You stepped closer to the man who had a good lead on you height wise. "You can read anything you want here," you added with a dismissive shrug. "Most of it is in English. Figure that won't be a problem. Even got some Harry Potter somewhere."

His eyebrow raised and you snickered before sitting on the top of the table and watched him. His own coat was off and showed a turtleneck that fit him nicely. At least he was pleasant to look at even if the two Avengers wanted your help. "A little on the nose is it not?" He asked and you chuckled before your hands moved. A steaming cup of tea now rested in your hands while the tray sat behind you with another cup. "Two sugars, please," he said as he glanced back. A book about the Marquis de Sade in his hands. Philosophy of the Bedroom probably. You added the amount requested before handing him a cup. A breath going over your own before you sipped the rich taste.

He set the book back in its proper place and took a sip of the tea. Brown eyes met your own and you never thought tea drinking would almost turn you on. You could see his tongue on the edge of the cup and you licked your lips before sipping your own tea again. Almost burnt your tongue this time. "Which is your favorite classic?" He asked as he set the cup down. His arm sliding next to your side just so before he placed it on the saucer. Your eyes went to him and down to his wet lips. You wanted to lick the tea off of them and do some other naughty things to him.

"Would have to go with the Count of Monte Cristo," You answered with a grin at him. He pulled back with the gracefullness of an emphereal spirit. You almost wanted to grab his arm and pull him back. "Where are Thing One and Thing Two?" You asked as his back faced you. You could see a smirk twist his face before he went over more books. Skipping classics and philosophy to go to other sections. You watched him go as you looked him up and down. He had a nice body you had to say.

"Oh?" He asked and stepped back with a book. "And what about this?" You were sipping your cup of tea when the title was clearly shown. Fifty Shades of Grey. You choked on your tea at the look on his face.

"That is not mine!" You called out as you tried to clear the tea from your windpipe. You did not even think there was an erotica section in the library. You were trying to figure out where it came from when you smelled his cologne wash over you. Your eyes peeking up at him as you stayed in your spot against this table. His grin was salacious and dripping sin. The book was in his hands as he reached for his cup of tea again.

A smirk on his handsome face as those gloved fingers ghosted across your side. You saw his leg step close in between yours from how you were sitting. Bloody hell you wanted nothing more than for him to take you against the table. Or at least kiss you. How long had it been since you could snog anyone? "Charming snake," you hissed to him though your lips twisted in a smile.

"Why do you want to taste my forked tongue?" He teased as his lips ran over your own. You felt them tingle and you could feel your control failing as you met his eyes.

"Would rather have you taste me, love," you teased as your fingers ran over his chest. He had some nice muscles and you giggled as you heard a growl leave his throat. His lips pressed against you and you could almost taste a mix of tea and wine as you bunched up his shirt. Before you could even deepen the kiss or taste his forked tongue the library door slammed open.

"Oh come on!" A voice shouted. "Really?!"

Part 2

@joyfulinternettraitor