#Side note: Thank you all for being so patient and kind while I took my break! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ms-oswald · 1 year ago

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paper heart | sihtric

author's note: just a little something i had in my back pocket for a while - a kind of fluff(?) simple one-chaptered modern!sihtric fic. thank you to @itbmojojoejo for being my second pair of eyes 😘 Hope you will enjoy :) happy holidays! lots of love & stay safe 💕

The room was bland; the walls were painted white, a soft gloss apparent, and the fluorescent light shone with grip from the ceiling. The only window present was held with bars, offering a mundane view of the empty yard.

Where she sat, patiently waiting, she stared at the clock - round and intimidating, the numbers carved in rotation as the needles made passage with every dropped second.

She took in a deep breath, her presence at the back of the room forgotten while her eyes settled on the four bodies that sat on the other side, papers and pens resting on the table in front of them.

They were quiet, waiting.

Her gaze then shifted to the guard standing alert at the door, the entrance closed.

She had been waiting for this day for weeks, having first known about it when the letter came into the mail; the header had caught her off-guard, the content of the invitation surprising.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened where the guard held the knob, pulling it over towards him to let the newcomer in.

He walked in quietly, chained from his wrists to his waist down his ankles.

He looked around the room, no words yet escaping him; his gaze caught sight of the parole board sitting at the front of the room, the barred window, the ceiling light - the bulb almost blinding him - and then, his eyes settled on an unknown female figure.

She met his stare, her heart’s beat increasing bit by bit with every ticked second. She grew anxious, her fingers fidgeting on her lap against the fabric of scarf. She then ran them through her hair - freshly cut - as she fixed her new bangs and coiffed her locks to properly rest around her shoulders where the soft colored waves scratched against her blazer. Dearest Liliann wanted to look presentable for him, and so what better way than to pass by the hairdresser for a new do.

A silent ‘hello’ passed across her lips as they curved into a soft smile, all in the hopes he would recognize her despite never officially having encountered each other face-to-face.

He was gently pushed to take a seat in front of her, making him face the board as they prepared. She couldn’t help herself but place her sight on him still, her hues tracing the broad shoulders covered by his jumper, up to the braids that covered his sides and top of his head as they pulled his curls back, resting right at the nape of his neck.

“Sihtric Kjartansson. Please rise.” Within his silence, the man in question rose back up to his feet, calm and collected.

The man at the center of the table was going through Sihtric’s file, recounting the crime he had committed and the consequential sentence he had eventually met.

The convict remained still, while trying to listen as the board’s words floated at him.

Only when he was made to sit back down did he snap out of his thoughts, her name was spoken through their lips.

“We’re calling on a character witness, Liliann-”

The woman of the hour; she jumped up from her seat at her name, interrupting the introduction. “Yes, h-hi your honor-s.” Standing up, she was clutching at her scarf the way her nerves were grabbing her with might. The older man eyed her for the second, almost having been startled at her sudden appearance.

His gaze went back to the file that stood in front of him as he went on. “We see here you have been corresponding through letters with prisoner Sihtric Kjartansson over the last four years.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sihtric couldn’t help but smile, the right side of his lips curving softly at her nervous stature while holding himself to not chuckle so loudly. He couldn’t turn around fully and see her but hearing her speak brought him a sense of ease she had been carrying through her pen since they met. Only today did he find out what her voice sounded like, and he cherished it already, the tonality of her sound calming him.

“Then speak.” The man asked, inquisitive and skeptical as his gaze bore through her. “Do you believe he is ready to rejoin society?”

She worked on her posture, hoping that the tension she felt in her knees would stop her body shaking slightly from her nerves. She swallowed whatever saliva she had in her mouth and looked back at the man straight in his eyes.

“I am confident he is ready. Sir.” She glanced quickly at her friend before eyeing back at the board.

“Sihtric is not a bad person. He has just been dealt with bad cards…” She tried formulating her next words, careful to keep her calm. “H-he had an upbringing that no child should have to ever go through. I-I mean his father was a notorious criminal, a m-monster. He was in self-defense mode, protecting his loved one, a-and his mother-” She breathed in as she quieted down, her emotions slowly getting the better of her.

“He was put in a horrible position that gave him no way out.” Another exhale, her knuckles whitened against her scarf. “Sihtric deserves a second chance. He shouldn’t have to pay any longer for circumstances that were beyond his control. I fully believe that, if his circumstances were different, better even, he’d be living a regular life and not barred by this justice system.”

A woman at the table intervened, curious at the visitor’s words. “You sound distasteful.”

“I am.” She had jumped with her answer, not having realized her response until a second later. Her eyes wide, she recuperated herself just as quickly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

She sighed once again, her eyes averting to Sihtric before looking back to the board.

“You left a criminal on the streets for years as he terrorized everyone who crossed his path. He murdered countless people - his own wife included - and yet was never arrested for his crimes? And then, Sihtric, who did us a bloody hell of a favor, by the way, gets taken away for acting in self-defense. I’m sorry, but this was beyond unfair what he went through. And I believe this man right here didn’t deserve such treatment.”

She dropped her head, gathering the last of her thoughts on the manner, her pulse racing against the clock. She lifted her eyes back up, watching them. “I haven’t known him for long, but I know him well enough that he’s not dangerous nor does he pose a threat to society. H-he is deserving of a second chance…”

Sihtric’s heart pounded between his ears, her words having carved themselves into his bones as shivers ran down his spine. He took a quiet breath, his head down and eyes closed, as he turned away to face the board again. He took them to heart, yet a twinge of uncertainty nestled itself comfortably in the darkest corner.

The board eyed her, slightly taken aback by her words. “Thank you for this…” The man in the middle cleared his throat, his eyes averted back to the file. “Insightful speech. You may sit down.”

She slightly stumbled as she took back her seat, her palms sweating from her sudden lack of control.

An eerie silence hung in the air; tension crawled up the walls to hover over the people in the room.

Liliann tried to slow down her breathing, her pulse increasing by the second. Though it felt like time standing still, the hands of the clock were moving at an unbearably slow pace.

But they turned and turned, Father Time forcing patience onto them.

‘Dearest Liliann, you deserve to know the truth of what I have done. But first, I need you to know – in the event you decided to cut ties with me – that it has been a pleasure knowing you and writing to you. I have been here for two years now and ever since we ‘met’, you have made my stay more bearable; your letters brighten the grim time I have here. Yet, how can I complain when I am the cause of my own undoing?’

She lost track of time as she waited outside, leaning against her car. The cold breeze added colors to her cheeks as she melted under her scarf, her arms crossed over her chest with her coat protecting her from the lightly grim weather.

The thoughts swirling inside her mind had left her to fall away from the moment; she was racing on a stand-alone track, directionless.

For the last four years, she had only ever written to Sihtric, had only encountered him through pictures. And now, just a few minutes away, she would finally be physically standing close to him.

She would be lying to herself saying that she wasn’t nervous. She had thought about that moment for so long, the multiple scenarios she had built in her head could fill a library.

Palpitations ran their course, a gentle smile coating her lips when her sight was finally granted with his presence.

He was making his way out as the gates opened and paved the way to his tethered freedom; the man was free, the board having passed their judgement, though he remained on parole.

The chilled air had hit him with a whirlwind, the clothes he wore not enough to protect him. He added a spring in his steps as he approached Liliann, growing anxious the closer he got. He had his right hand holding his thin layered jacket as closed as possible, while his left had been holding onto a couple of bags the prison had given him for his possessions; clear plastic to display his belongings.

He grew nervous, not truly knowing what to expect for their first physical encounter. It hugged him, the estrange feeling resting across his chest.

Reaching her at last, she stood up with her arms dropping as her hands found shelter in her coat pockets. “H-hi.” She stuttered her greeting, gently growing timid at the sight of him.

“Hi.” The small grin graced him, his voice reaching the air around her for the first time; her heart quickened its pace within that second, having stumbled on its walk when the tone of his words came to her.

A gentle awkwardness crept its way in between them; it was not unpleasant but had still brought them uncertainty.

She couldn’t look away from him, the gears in her mind churning loudly as she tried to find something to say. He stood still, the weather suddenly becoming a second thought as his gaze settled on her, taking in her appearance – from the way her dimple carved the right side of her cheek, the soft bangs tickling her eyelids where the rest of her hair covered her ears and were mounted on her scarfs and highlighting her hues, to the cupid bow atop her lips inviting him for a taste. He was holding his breath, staring at her as if to take her in, afraid that all this was unreal, a simple ruse.

Lost for words, they could only exchange a nervous chuckle until she pushed herself to finally speak up, trying to push passed the blush heating her cheeks.

She went with the only route she knew by heart. “This would’ve been much easier if I had written something down.” Her sense of humor was something he had only been able to read; hearing it for the first time, he laughed at her remark and the sound warmed her, enjoying the way it tickled her senses. “It’s finally nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

The exchange remained clumsy, their bodies shifting to either a handshake or a friendly embrace; Sihtric decided then to take the first step and leaned towards Liliann as he wrapped his arms around her.

She followed him, her hands resting on his back and had hoped he didn’t hear the pounding in her chest. “How are you feeling?” She spoke into the wind, hiding her nervousness.

He pulled away just enough not to be completely out of reach with his head tilting downwards to look at her. “Good- It’s strange, but a good kind of strange, I guess.”

She tried not to pay close attention to their proximity, shying away from the softness of his eyes until she noticed a faded scar on his right cheek. Her hues stuck to the mark, she had reached out for it, lightly tracing it with her fingertips. In return, he remained quiet, watching her as the gentleness of her caress left him shivering.

It was when she met his stare again that she realized what she was doing. She quickly pulled away, flustered. “S-sorry.”

He smiled, a small tug on the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.”

“It’s the medic in me.” She quickly wanted to give him an excuse, not wanting him to believe she was an intrusive person. “I have to have insight on all the cuts and bruises I come across.” She shared a nervous laugh, a small chuckle - a gesture he reciprocated. He touched his own cheek, nonchalantly. “It’s just something I got from one of the inmates. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at his words, worried, but had decided to let it go, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

She took a step back, ready to offer him a ride when she noticed the contents in one of the bags he had been holding; she recognized the pastel-colored envelopes and her heart soared. “You kept them…” She was in awe, touched that he held onto the letters she had been sending him over the years.

He scratched the back of his head, budding timidity hovering around him. “Of course, I did.” He gave her a smile as she took the bag in question. Examining what was inside, she then noticed a polaroid stuck between two envelopes; she recognized it as the one she had sent him - a simple one she had taken with her cat. Her brows creased at the sight, in slight shock.

“Wait, you kept this as well?” She lifted her head up to him as she spoke.

“I did. It was my proof you were real...” The softening smile graced his lips as he took a glance at the photograph, his eyes lingering as a subtle sharp twinge nudged him in the corner of his chest. “It’s a pretty good picture.” He softly mentioned under his breath; she blushed, trying to hide her embarrassment as she rubbed her nose from the cold. “Really? I was horrified after I sent that- It's like, the second I sent out the letter, I got my senses knocked back into me!” She caught a chortle in her throat, her hands to her cheeks in a mortified look. “I mean look at it! I made my cat wear a knitted suit! That I made! It’s horrifying!” He shared a chuckle with her at her response, amused at the exaggeration she was committing. She then caught her breath, the curves of her lips falling, her teeth biting the bottom instead. “To be honest, I thought I would’ve scared you off or something.”

“You didn’t... You can say, these kept me sane...” The smile he wore was heartwarming, entrancing. He meant his words, his declaration of their friendship wearing him like silk.

She was touched, not expecting such sincerity though kindness was something she knew him for.

She sucked in a breath, wanting to change the subject.

Her hands back in her pocket, she twirled quickly to look at her car before turning back to Sihtric. “Want to get out of here? If you’re a bit peckish, we can go somewhere to eat.”

He nodded at her suggestion, not denying the need to taste civilian food again. “I can have a bite to eat.”

She invited him to her car as he made his way towards the passenger side. He was about to reach the door when she spoke up again. “Oh! And don’t mind the noise the car makes. It goes away once it’s starts moving.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking perplexed.

She went on, having seen the expression covering his face. “It’s completely safe, I promise!”

He let out a snicker and shook his head as he went to open the door. He struggled, not being able to complete the task even by force. Liliann was about to get inside when she saw him. She ran to him, her nervous laughter singing in the back of her throat again.

At his side, she guided him. “You just have to give it a little push, a kick, and voila!” She succeeded, happy her trick still worked while also relieved the winter hadn’t done any more damage.

Sihtric stood bewildered, taken aback by the complex steps that were needed to simply enter the hatchback. “Have you thought about bringing it in to get it fixed?”

She smiled back at him, the grin wide across her lips. “But then my sweetest Volks will lose all its charm!”

He laughed at her words – her perky personality was a natural boost, a shot given to him straight for the serotonin. It had been just a few minutes, and he already did not want it to stop.

Once they settled inside and buckled their seats, Liliann plopped in her keys into the ignition, ready to go as she attempted to turn on her engine. It took her a few tries, leaving Sihtric to be worried about the state of her car.

She turned her head to him, reassuring him with all the conviction she could muster. “It would be weird if it didn’t do that at all.”

When finally lighting up, she let a sigh of relief slipping through her lips as she mumbled under her breath a quiet ‘thank god’.

He silently chuckled to himself, having heard her words, the smirk painted across his lips not able to be erased.

‘Dear Sihtric, I am glad to see you have not abandoned me after my last letter. I may sound dramatic writing this – sorry. It’s been an awful week at work. I lost two patients in the span of a few days. It’s been grim to say the least. I love my job. It has its moment, notably, witnessing such loss, but I also get to meet all kinds of people with such extraordinary stories – it's a blessing. I hope you are doing well and that you are reaching the end of your dreary cold. Be safe, Sihtric. I hope we’ll get to meet soon.’

They found their seats, secluding themselves from the early afternoon crowd; back in her neighborhood, she was treating Sihtric to lunch.

They sat in front of each other, her back leaning against the booth with only the table and menus separating them. As for the newly freed ex-convict, he was leaning forward where his arms rested on the surface with his head laid low.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She softly spoke, her sleeves pulled towards her fingers as they toyed with the menu.

He lifted his head to her words, a gentle smile covering his lips. “I’m just… overwhelmed a bit, I guess.”

She worried, her brows narrowing at his sentiment. “Are you happy at least? You’re a free man.” She said with a little tint of joy coming from the back of her throat.

A soft chuckle escaped him, naturally rolling off his tongue. “Yea, you could say that.” He then pushed himself against the backrest of his seat, arms dropping on his lap. “Thank you.” Relief had washed over him like a gentle breeze as his back leaned towards his seat, relaxed as his eyes settled on Liliann.

“For?” Her head slightly tilted, curious.

“For everything.” The laidback stature he grew into was now dissipating, the tension in his shoulders slowly gripping him once again. “You had no obligation with anything-” He was interrupted when a waiter came to their table to take their order.

Liliann jumped in, her eyes lingering on her friend for just one moment before she was giving her attention to the menu as she spoke up, taking the lead. She had crossed over the pages going from appetizers, plates and drinks to share between them.

Once the worker had took his notes and was out of ear shot, leaving them with only their glasses of water for the time being, Sihtric spoke up again; he was taken aback by her gesture and approached her again, pressing himself against the edge of the table. “It’s too much, you didn’t have to order all that.”

With a softening gaze, she leaned forward as well, matching his stance with a light tone of voice that dipped into care. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch is on me.”

“You don’t have too-” He gestured to her his refusal, his hand stretching across the surface of the table.

She mimicked him, having reached out where her hand rested atop his – a gesture done on instinct, her mind having no thought of the movement. “I want to.”

The sudden touch halted the twist of the tongue, the need for speech suspended. Sensing warmth budding in the palm of her right hand, she just as quickly pulled away, breaking the tension that seemed to have tied them together. Sihtric felt a soft wasp of cold air before he pulled away as well, trying to ignore the tingling sensation; it lingered, and he used his other hand, his thumb rubbing across his left. He swallowed the lump in his throat, the chaotic swarm of emotions leaving him conflicted. He felt weighed down by such heaviness, part of him thankful for her while the supposed rational part of him felt guilt nibbling at the edge. It left him perplexed, not knowing if his appreciation and affection stemmed from his circumstances – as she had become a beacon of hope – or if the feelings he held, wrapped like a vine across his ribcage, were genuine because of her.

Sitting face to face, finally being able to physically look at her and take her in, he couldn’t stop but wonder if what he felt was real, or if his emotions were attached to her as his white knight savior.

Either way, he wanted her in his life.

She was easy to talk to, and he found her sense of humor and her sarcasm endearing. Her comedic stance had given him a breath of fresh air into his lungs, as if his need for oxygen was now revolved around her, around every hint of a giggle in her throat, the caring smile across her lips, or the spark in her eyes that would shine whenever something light came to be.

He was smitten, and though he had known her for years – today was the day he felt his heart soar against his broken chest.

“Plus, I’m starving! I’d probably be leaving you with crumbs to eat anyways.” Her words, ringing into his ears so sweetly, made him titter.

She blushed at the sound.

“Alright, then.” He nodded, accepting her generosity with a small exhale. He then reached for his drink, his fingers twisting the glass on the table. From her hues, he looked down to the rim. “Thank you.” He lifted his head to her again, his shoulders letting go of the strain. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

She shared a giggle, a subtle sound that etched across her lips. “I look forward to it.”

And just in time, the waiter came back with their pints while the food was still yet to come.

Liliann took her glass, raising it to him. “To your freedom.” Sihtric mimicked her, taking his own drink and lifting it mid-air. “Partial freedom. I’m on parole, remember?”

She shrugged, a laidback motion of her shoulders. “It’s still a win.” They clinked their glasses, sharing their first sip as silence comfortably settled itself between them, a ball rolling up and down the table.

While he took his second sip, she worked on her next words – something he had noticed as her mouth twitched carefully. He waited, patient. She took a small gulp from her own glass, the bitter liquid trenching down her throat as she tilted her head to him again. “Have you thought about what you will do, now that you’re out?”

He sighed, thinking about his future. “Not really... To be honest, I didn’t think this day would ever come.”

Her heart squeezed at his answer, hurt he felt such way, that he had lost hope.

She did what she did best, petting such worries into a deep sleep. “You could take up knitting.” She gave him a light shrug again, a gesture that was meant to amuse him. “You can join my one-woman knitting club.”

He chuckled – he would never get tired for her knack for humor, he thought.

“I’ll think on it.” He offered a soft lopsided smile as he took another sip of his drink. She smiled in return, diverting her gaze quickly to the window on her right before turning her head back to him.

Once more, silence had spoken, letting Liliann thinking over her next words cautiously while her teeth nibbled at the skin inside her lips. She let out a breath, quietly as it slowly escaped her mouth, interrupting their moment with her low voice. “You’re welcome to stay with me, by the way.” As soon as they had come out, had she realized the meaning of her sentence and just as quickly jumped back in to clarify. “U-until you find something else, I-I mean.” She became nervous again, unable to read him. “Y-you can stay as long as you need.”

He looked at her, her kindness becoming like budding waves of the sea; he wasn’t drowning, he just remained still as the water caressed him, leaving droplets and raising his skin. He grew heavy again, guilt scratching at his inside. “You’ve done enough, already- Lili-”

She swallowed the dryness in her throat, pressing herself further against the backrest of her seat. She was close to pleading, her words breathed out with weight attached to them. “Sihtric, please.” He saw her shift, and had seemed to have closed herself a bit, her arms on her lap while her fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. “I want to do this. I want to help.”

He sighed softly and gave her a subtle nod as he accepted her invitation – he saw she had slowly straightened her back with a slither of hope, he thought, had added some colors to her irises. “It’s temporary.” He couldn’t bring himself to say he had friends we could stay with, that he at least had people who would look out for him.

She shook her head, feeling more at ease. “Exactly.” A small smile made its way to the corner of her lips, unable to hide its content – it seemed it was contagious as Sihtric found himself doing the same, sharing a grin of his own.

Their food had arrived and had rolled their conversation onto smoother tracks. The atmosphere had settled around them, igniting banters and laughter that eased the residing tension on his shoulders, dissipating the heaviness into the void.

The afternoon swayed through as they caught up like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. They rekindled past conversations and introduced new topics as the hours of the day danced around them, like a soundtrack rolling backstage.

The sound of her laughter was becoming a necessity, leaving him with a smile that hadn’t made its appearance in years; her written words had always been held close to his heart. Now that he knew what she sounded like, the way she held her humor, the way she spoke – the lines he had memorized in his head, he could finally hear her say them. His heart soared as her voice floated between his ears, soothing him.

They were on their third drink, gently rummaging through their plates, when the air had cooled down. Sihtric’s eyes had caught sight of a woman from across the pub, his heart suddenly coming to a halt.

Liliann noticed the change in demeanor and called for him. “Sihtric?” With no response, she followed his gaze and turned her head to see where he was looking. Her face dropped, understanding the violent fright in his eyes. She then turned back to him, finding him gulping his beer.

She let him swallow, leaning towards the table’s edge with concern. “You alright?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Y-yea. For a second, I thought it was-” He was looking pale, the color draining from his face in utter shock. An ache settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched him. “I know. I thought the same…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands remaining at the nape of his neck before they fell to his lap. “I’m sorry for how she behaved towards you.”

“It’s okay. There is nothing to feel sorry about. It wasn’t your fault.”

It was believing that Sihtric’s ex was just a few feet away, that left them feeling dread looming over them.

It was remembering the last time she had seen the other woman that Liliann felt a rush of goosebumps across her skin, making her slightly shudder; the ex had initiated an argument when she found out Liliann and Sihtric were keeping in touch. Annoyed, enraged, she had taken his stuff and dropped them at Liliann’s door with a simple “if you want him, you can have him” remark spat at the young woman.

“Still… She was my wife.”

Liliann huffed, the tone done in a tongue in cheek way. “Yea… Weird taste, dude.” She used her sarcasm to push away the grey cloud that encased them in their booth. It made him chuckle, making it another successful attempt at lightening the mood.

Wanting then to continue and desperately change the subject, he dived into something else, bringing her along. “How is Aramis?”

She had taken a bite, a small piece of fried pickle, when he inquired about her pet. The suddenness of his question made her choke on her food. Trying to catch a breath, she coughed as she went for her glass, the straw settling between her lips as she downed her beverage to cool herself. All the while, though he was taken by surprise at her reaction, Sihtric couldn’t help but smile as she grinned nervously.

“I thought I would’ve annoyed you with how much I wrote about him.” She kept her fingers on her glass, the straw dancing around the pieces of ice cubes that resided at the bottom.

He frowned, curious. “Why would you think that?”

A slight scoff slipped from her, her eyes remaining glued to her plate. “People - that I have encountered at least - tend to be irritated by those who talk too much about their pet. Especially against cat ladies.”

Aramis was her everything; a simple British short hair she had adopted from an elderly couple who couldn’t take care of him anymore.

He held a soft beam, his sentiment genuine towards the little one. “I love the little guy! And I love that you took him in. Not a lot of people would do it, let alone mean it when they say they would do it.”

She blushed, flustered at receiving such a compliment, and hid behind her drink. “Y-yea… He’s a pretty good roommate to have around.”

“I have some competition it seems.”

She chuckled at his remark, meeting his eyes as she shook her head, amused. “I guess so.”

They carried on, traipsing seamlessly from topic to the next, a comfort settling between them.

Drawn to one another, unable to notice time pass, the pen’s ink slowly tightened them within its cursive script and pushed them closer as they discovered more about one another.

The letters they wrote had brought ease and hope, and he appreciated every single one of them. “They have definitely made my life bit fuller, if that makes sense…”

“It does.” She softly smiled at him, understanding as the sentiment was reciprocated.

Sihtric had then gotten up from his seat without a word, suddenly leaning towards Liliann from across the table. He reached for her, his hand resting on the left side of her face, hand to her jaw with his thumb caressing her cheek. He then approached her further until she felt his lips pressed onto hers, sharing a sweet kiss – the gesture taking her by surprise. He pulled away, though he remained close enough to her, calling for her.

The glass shattered, the daydreaming breaking into thousands of pieces as she was snapped back into reality.

He had noticed she had fallen into a slight daze, unresponsive until he spoke her name. Startled, blinking, she cleared her throat as she quickly slid out of her seat. “E-excuse me-”

She dashed for the bathroom, going straight for the sink. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She grabbed the counter, lifting her head to the mirror in front of her. “Get your shit together, Liliann!” Pointing at herself through the glass, arguing with herself, she took a moment while catching a breath. Once she felt normal again, she fixed herself up and walked back to her seat.

Sitting back down, Sihtric looked at her with a curious gaze. “Are you okay? You look… flushed.”

She still felt heat gripping her cheeks. She cleared her throat, pretending nothing had disturbed her. “I’m fine. I just ran a bit hot. T-the food was quite h-ot.”

He chuckled, not fully convinced. “Alright, if you say so…”

She chugged down half her water – the sight leaving a tickled smirk across Sihtric’s features. Placing her drink on the table with a sigh, she leaned back in her seat, pulling her sleeves to her palms as she picked – once again – at the hem of her shirt.

He saw the gears in her head turning, igniting curiosity on his end. She was so pensive, clearly thinking of what she wanted to ask him – the way it marked her features, a glint stretched across his lips, enjoying the way she was nibbling at her bottom lip in thought.

She let out a small breath – the one thing had been haunting her for a while. She had been too afraid to ask but the dire need to know, to understand, had been gnawing at her like an aftertaste. She gathered her courage and pushed through. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She ripped it away like a band aid.

“Why didn’t you want me visiting you?”

He took a moment to answer, pondering as he fell backwards, resting in his seat. Meeting her stare, he melted under her gaze, his answer floating smoothly. “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion the letters created for you.” His words rang her ears. She waited for more – it took him a second to continue. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed of who you would be meeting, face to face.”

Her heart broke at his confession. It hurt to see him retrieve himself like this. “Sihtric, the letters never created any sort of illusions for me. They were the most honest I’ve ever been with anyone, and I felt that from you too. U-unless I’m wrong-”

“No, you’re not. I've been more honest and vulnerable with you than with anyone else. Even from my ex...” The pressure on his chest was chipping away ever so slowly. “I wanted to see you, to sit down and talk and finally meet the mystery woman who I've been writing too. Up until you sent me your picture, I thought I was being cat-fished.”

She laughed at his comment, inciting his own chuckle. “I am an improvement, I hope.”

“You have no idea.” He lingered – just for a moment, and then spoke to her. “And sorry, again. I thought it would be easier if we just kept to the letters… I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”

She offered him a smile, a grin that reached him. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad we are here now… finally.” He reached for his plate, picking out a single frie. She quietly watched him, the curves of her lips remaining timidly upwards. “And Sihtric?” He met her gaze. “You’re not a disappointment.”

Her words struck him and for the first time in so damn long, he believed it.

He believed her; the way she was looking at him, the way her eyes held him with such high regard as if he was anything but a criminal, a murderer. Not even the woman he had spent most of his adult life with, not even she who he was engaged to, looked at him that way. It left him with a warmth that crept under the covers, right into his chest like a cat seeking comfort.

He tried to ignore the thoughts that hid in the shadows, in the back of his mind.

There was a lingering gaze; they held their eyes to each other without a word, without even realizing what they were doing. It had lasted for a few seconds – short enough for the waiter to come back, interrupting them. “Do you want anything else?”

Liliann turned to Sihtric. “Dessert?”

Sihtric nodded. “Sure, why not.”

She turned back to the worker while Sihtric’s sight remained on her, enamored.

The entire situation still felt surreal for him.

He took his last sip, eyes on her, until he eventually turned to the window, the glass back on the table.

“You alright?” He nodded at her inquiry, looking back at her. “I didn’t realize the holidays were approaching so quickly.”

“Tell me about it.” She joined in, looking to the streets with her arms resting by the sides of her body.

The afternoon had stretched into late evening, the dessert extending their stay even further.

Time passing was not an issue for either of them – they had nowhere else pressing to be.

For now, he was content, enjoying her presence at his side.

‘Dear Liliann, I’m sorry to hear about the troubles my ex is giving you. I’ve tried reaching out, but she has completely cut ties with me. Please do not mind her, I’ve angered her, though I guess being out of the picture, it’s easier for her to use this excuse to cheat on me. I know I’ve written this before but thank you for letting me know. I cannot blame her, to be honest. It hasn’t been easy – our last years together were a tumble down the stairs. Yet, I cannot help but still feel for her since she had been by my side as far as I can remember. But I guess everything must come to an end eventually...’

They stood quietly in the hallway while Liliann searched for her keys.

She was rummaging through her purse, the item lost within the void. All the while, Sihtric remained patient, his eyes watching her with amusement until he turned his head where his gaze settled on the closed door that stood across from them.

“Got it!” The jingle of the keys echoed around them as she lifted her head up, smiling at her retrieval.

She then caught him looking behind her; she turned around before looking back at him again. She softly spoke up, careful with her tone. “A new couple moved in a few days ago…” A part of her was glad his ex had moved out, having grown afraid of the woman.

Her words caught his attention as he reverted to her. She spoke again, happy to see the slight tremor in her voice went unnoticed. “H-have you spoken to her recently?”

“No.” She was unlocking her door when he continued, stuttering her steps in the process. “But I need to reach out to her. We need to talk.”

“O-oh. Yea, I guess…” A shaken sigh under her breath, Sihtric hadn’t seen the dread draping her shoulders, which she - once again - quietly thanked.

Opening her front door, she turned on her lights as she walked in and was welcomed by the loud cries of her cat.

Liliann bent down, picking up her furry friend in her arms while gently scratching at his fur.

She then turned around as Sihtric walked in and closed the door behind him. He remained speechless, taking in the sight as she moved away.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

He chuckled as he removed his jacket, his eyes wandering around the small apartment until he saw a few boxes lying by a wall.

“It’s not much, but it does the trick. It’s, hmm, it’s home…” He noted the slight saddening undertone that slipped through. He said nothing, not wanting to make it palpable and bring her down.

“It’s perfect.”

She met his hues and blushed, a shy smile gracing her lips.

He then approached her, worry coming back to him. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”

“Sihtric.” She placed a hand on his arm, the gesture meant to reassure him. “I promise, it’s alright.”

“I really owe you.”

She gave him a gentle squeeze before letting him go. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour.” With her pet now out of her arms, strutting around without a care in the world, Liliann guided Sihtric around from the living room to her kitchen, bathroom and lastly her bedroom.

“I figured you might want a proper bed after so long. I’ll just plop on the couch.”

Sihtric stood still, refusing to become the reason she would also be losing her bed – on top of gaining an unwanted roommate.

“You’re not kicking me out. I pass out in the living room all the time anyway. The bed is just for decoration at this point. Might as well be used.” She shrugged, nonchalantly, wanting to convince him all was well. “You need to a comfortable place to sleep, Sihtric. Take the bed, it’s fine. I promise.”

He stared at it, the covers and pillows neatly propped – the room was simple and held all the necessities. It wasn’t too extravagant, and yet still held some kind of comfort to its atmosphere.

She watched him, trying to understand the emotions that were written across his face.

The scene broke down when Aramis cried from the kitchen – he was getting hungry.

Liliann cleared her throat, scratching at the back of her head, catching the man’s attention. “Hmm, why don’t you take a shower- or a bath, whichever you prefer. I have towels ready for you on the counter already and your clothes are in this box over by the dresser. H-hopefully they still fit.” She started taking steps backwards, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll go see what’s up with the little fur ball in the meantime.”

She was walking away when Sihtric grabbed her wrist, forcing her to a halt.

He didn’t have to say anything – for once, she was able to see what he was going to say and stopped him. “You don’t have to thank me Sihtric. I’m glad you’re here. Truly. Enjoy your freedom, will ya?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “I will.”��

She gave him a soft smile, placing her free hand on the one he held her with before walking away, her heart in her throat.

He watched her, his shoulders dropping, his heart pounding in his ears – conflicted.

The steam of the bathroom had escaped once the door opened. Sihtric quietly made his way back to the bedroom while Liliann was preparing the couch with sheets and pillows.

She had taken the time to change into her pj’s - a worn out t-shirt with man’s sweats - and had gotten some extra blankets for him.

She held a couple and walked into the slim hall to her bedroom when she found him looking through some of his boxes.

“You look refreshed.” She watched him as he got up to his feet to face her; he looked relaxed, all the heaviness of today washed away.

He ruffled his hair, his fingers passing smoothly through the strands, still damp from the water. “It was the best shower I’ve had in a very long time.”

She chuckled, happy to see him this way. “Glad to hear considering the water pressure isn’t all that great.”

“It was better than what I had, believe me.”

She walked to the bed, her arms busy with additional covers. “I brought you some extra blankets. Wasn’t sure if you ran hot or cold...”

Her voice trailed off into silence, only now having noticed their proximity. Her mouth hung slightly open, her fingers digging into the fabric of the sheets as it stood between them. She was struck with the way his bi-colored gaze bore into her, her breath held by the depth of his hues.

They were pulled back when noise came from the living room – Aramis was keeping himself busy.

Liliann cleared her throat and turned around, placing the blankets on the bed. Sihtric remained still, watching her move without saying anything. He was unable to break away, taken in by the leisurely demeanor she wore; he couldn’t help himself but study how the cotton hung across her figure – if he held her, if he tightened his hold onto the fabric of her clothes, they could hug her, and he would be able to trace every spec, every curve, that stood beneath him. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, her bangs brought up with a clip to her scalp – he felt the need to run his fingers through them, to feel their softness against his skin. And then to feel her skin warm under his touch as he hugged her close.

Liliann turned around to find him staring at her.

He looked taller, she thought.

All within their silence, he approached her prudently until his left hand rested on her cheek, the other placed on her waist. Her lungs were numb, unable to breathe, from the physical contact – she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like this.

Emotions were now in overdrive, having subdued all rationale into complete oblivion.

They locked eyes, incapable of breaking away as if she was paralyzed by the colors of his irises; she fell into their shades, letting them embrace her with undescribed sentiments carved into the thin lines as they ghosted over her.

Breathing in the tension, he leaned down, drawn by the desperate need to kiss her. The feeling almost palpable, his lips already tingled.

From her waist, his left hand traveled down to her hip, gently grasping her shirt as he pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, his breath tickling her lips while her heart pounded with such strength, she could feel her ribcage crack, in dire need to be free from its confine.

A slight movement from her, her nose brushed against his – a feather touch. He tilted his head down to see her fingers hovering over his chest, as if to hold herself up. The cupid bow of her upper lip, the hint of her dimple on her right cheek – he wanted to feel it, to kiss it, to see it sculpting her skin when smiling.

The control was held with such great strength, he hated himself for it.

Yet, he couldn’t let go.

He couldn’t abandon his resolve to kiss her – he didn’t want to.

But he wasn’t capable either of pursuing his desire, as if he was held up by strings, as if a wall was separating them.

He held her firmly, his thumb tracing over the hidden dimple as he held her jaw. The warmth of his touch made her quiver, her knees almost giving out. He lifted her head up to him again, making her open her eyes which silently begged him for more.

The unspoken emotions that hovered across the dried ink of their letters, the ones that were captured and incased within the sealed envelopes, seeped through with every breath, the air growing thicker.

Her hands carefully climbed to reach him – her fingertips peeked at the hem of his shirt against his neck, making him shiver from her touch.

Just one more nudge and he could succumb to his want, to feel her lips pressed against his. They were so close yet felt so far away.

She caught the pendant he wore, her gaze averting to it as Sihtric watched her play with it. She captured the cord and gently tugged, pulling him down to her – she could feel his lips finally hover over hers, like a shadow, ready for a firmer touch.

She was lacking his sense of control while she gathered her courage, moving her lips softly over his.

His grip on her hip tightened, his hand digging into the fabric of her shirt as it rested against her skin. His left remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing over her jawline as they hid within the locks of her hair.

And when he finally met her, when she could finally fully feel his lips pressed against hers, ready to dive into this state of yearning – they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, forcing them to pull away.

The heat exuded from their closeness vanished from the simple percussion of the door.

They stood still for a moment, simply staring at each other while their chests heaved; reality fell on them, like a glass ceiling falling from its root and straight onto them, shattering on impact.

He was knocked out.

He noticed the pink tint of her cheeks, the slightly parted lips, and the look in her eyes was yet to be understood though, he swore he saw an outline of disappointment painted within them.

The door knocked again, the noise resonating with them once more.

The moment gone, she walked away, leaving him to pull himself together. He took a seat on the bed, elbows to his knees as he held himself in thought, yelling at himself for what transpired.

He heard her footsteps get closer to him and finally looked up to see her standing at the bedroom’s entrance.

“Who was at the door?” He was a little bit agitated – the knocks reminding him of his childhood, of the roughness of his past.

“Just a delivery... I ordered some knitting stuff. I-I ran out.” She leaned against the threshold while he remained sitting at the edge of her bed.

An awkward silence settled in the room.

She still felt the ghost of his lips pressed on hers – she pinched her bottom lip while they remained quiet and looked at him as he stared down his lap onto the floor.

Her mouth moved, trying to break the stillness that infiltrated their bubble.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat.”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll let you be then...”

She was about to turn away when he called for her. She just as swiftly pivoted back, hopeful.

He stumbled on his words, trying to find a way to speak without causing any strain. “About earlier- I didn’t mean to overstep-”

She interrupted him, knowing where he was going.

Her heart broke.

“You didn’t. O-overstep, I mean...”

She gave him half a smile, hoping to mask the ache in the pit of her stomach, wishing he would simply get the message and run to her.

He did.

And he was dying to jump on his feet and grab her, but he couldn’t push himself to do it.

He felt undeserving.

The guilt crippled him, thinking he had taken advantage of her even though he knew she wanted this as well.

He couldn’t risk losing her, of making things more complicated – even though they weren’t.

She gulped down, her head down as she pushed hair strands behind her ear before going for the hem of her shirt, her nervous habit apparent.

She then looked up to meet his eyes, solemn. “Goodnight, Sihtric.”

“Goodnight, Liliann.” She left him be as she made her way back to the living room, a bee line straight for the couch, while holding back her tears and wrapping her arms around herself.

She told herself she was being ridiculous for feeling this heartbroken over a kiss that never was.

She took her seat and laid down facing the backrest, covering herself tightly with her eyes shut close.

He sighed, falling against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, cursing under his breath for wanting to let his emotions take over.

He could still feel the tingle of her lips on his, his fingertips missing the warmth of her skin.

‘Dearest Sihtric, it’s that time of the year again. Christmas is right around the corner and I’m scrambling to figure things out. I might have to work over the holidays – I'm waiting to receive my schedule – and to be honest, I think it’s better than to be alone. Aramis will be without me, but he is used to it, and I don’t think he notices it anyways. I wonder what Christmas would be like if we ever get to celebrate it together – any traditions you want to share? There are a few I remember growing up... It’s been harder every year, but now that we’ve met, that I have you in my life, the holidays don’t feel so alone. I hope it’s the same for you. Maybe one day, if we ever meet – when you get out of there, we could celebrate together. Nothing lavish – I'm sure Aramis would love to meet you. What do you think?’

He had walked through the front door when he found Liliann in the middle of decorating for the holidays.

While Sihtric had been out all day, she took the opportunity to fetch - within her parents’ storage unit - the family Christmas tree alongside some of the decorations they had left behind. It was a challenge to climb the stairs of her building with the heavy items back and forth, let alone having made it fit within her hatchback.

Unintentionally hiding away, she had heard him and stopped what she was doing, popping her head from behind the tree. “You’re back!”

He jumped, startled at the suddenness of her voice echoing within her living room; she widened her eyes, apologetic of her outburst. “S-sorry. Did not mean to scare you.”

His hand pressed to his chest; he breathed out a smile to her. “That’s alright.” He started removing his jacket, his gaze finally taking note of the clutter surrounding his friend. “What’s all this?”

“I thought since the holidays were approaching, I might as well get a head start on the decorations, and stuff.” A practiced answer; she had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She moved from where she stood, her hands busy with a set of small colorful light strings, as she continued. “You know how Aramis likes toying with the ornaments.” She gave him a nervous chuckle, trying to mask the anxiety hammering inside her chest.

Sihtric had quickly taken notice of her pet at the mention of his name, the creature stretched out on his back and asleep on the couch. And instead of saying anything to discourage the apparent effort Liliann was putting for him, he smiled, even though he knew the truth; he was aware she hadn’t gotten into the holiday spirit as of late, with her family spread apart. He remembered the letter that told him of such predicament, the words spilling out her lonesome secret – her lack of need to decorate.

And so, he knew she was doing this for him – for Liliann, it was all in the hopes it would ease his transition, bring some cheer back into his life.

She went on, desperate to break the tension. “To be honest… I-I don’t even know why I bother.” Another anxious huff escaped her, her rambling habit taking over. “My parents are doing their own thing again this year and my sister will be with her in-laws now, a-and I’ll probably be given a shift or something at the hospital, so I won’t be here anyways…” Having brought herself down, she dropped the garland from her hands and wiped her palms on her sides. She looked away from him, ashamed.

She ran her fingers through her hair, dropping her arms as she faced the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make some tea.” She rushed away from him, leaving him to look around at the mess in the room. He appreciated the effort she was putting in for him, yet he felt heavy.

Last night’s moment, in the shadows of today’s events, he felt weight on his shoulders.

He eventually joined her at her table where he found her sitting with her mug on the table alongside her delivery box from yesterday opened in front of her.

He sighed, taking a seat.

They welcomed the silence like a third friend. Her gaze was glued to the steam floating from her cup, her teeth nibbling the skin inside her mouth – she had a question burning her tongue.

“Did you go see her?”

She had spoken so softly, it took him a moment to register her words; he nodded. “It’s official. The papers have been signed.”

She frowned as she met him. “The divorce papers?”

He nodded once again. “I thought she had sent them to you months ago.”

“She never did.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” Remorse settled in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed her mug, pulling it towards her. “She came to see me and shoved the envelope in my face, telling me to bring it to you. I-I told her it wasn’t my responsibility, and she should do it herself if she wanted the papers signed... I’m sorry, I should’ve just taken them.”

“It’s not your fault. She shouldn’t have put that on you.” He held her gaze, and he could see anguish coloring her eyes. “It is done now either way, so all is well.”

She took a sip of her tea, bending her legs against her chest.

He wanted to move away from talking of his ex – the sour subject having left him with a bitter aftertaste.

And so, his eyes settled on the box in front of him. “Your package?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She resettled in her seat, placing her mug back on the table. “Hmm, y-yes. Just some new yarn and I got a second pair of needles, just in case y-you wanted to give it a try... as a hobby.” She slid them to him, timid. He chuckled and thanked her as he took them.

They were disturbed by the whining of her cat, the poor feline caught in the abandoned light strings.

Liliann leaned sideways to see what had happened.

“Damn it.” She muttered under her breath and quickly got up to help him while Sihtric remained seated, his eyes venturing back to the box and the needles in front of him.

His mind wandered back to what his ex had said about his friend, making him angry in return against the insults.

He had regretted the events of today and had wished he would’ve stayed put instead – at least spending it with Liliann.

He was brought out of thought when she came back with her cat in her arms. “I think he is lonely. My company doesn’t seem to suffice anymore.”

He smirked, a light huff running down his tongue. “Well of course, he needs a friend to get tangled in the lights with – right buddy?” He scratched under the cat’s chin, inciting a whine from the little one.

She smiled at his words, watching him entertain her pet with her heart in her throat. “I have been thinking about maybe getting a second one, to keep him company.”

“It would be a nice Christmas present for him.” He lifted his eyes to her, never letting go of the soft smile he wore. “For you too as well.”

She nodded, reciprocating the affection. “Yes, I guess so.”

Aramis then wiggled out of her arms, throwing another whine at her as he jumped to the floor, scurrying himself away.

A small laugh escaped Sihtric as he got up to his feet; Liliann remained still, watching him.

“I’m gonna go shower.”

“O-okay.” He was walking out, just about to disappear into the hallway when she jumped as well, calling for him. “Sihtric?” Standing up, her fingers went for her shirt, her habit nitpicking the fabric. “A-about the divorce… How are you holding up?”

He pondered before answering. “I’m okay. I’m relieved, I guess.”

“G-great! I-I mean that it’s all sorted now, a-and that it’s a good thing its over- that you got closure- that you got her out of your system.” She couldn’t seem to stop, her foot digging deeper into her mouth.

He raised his brow, confused. “That I got her out of my system?”

“We-well, yea. You s-slept with her right?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, already striding with her follow ups. “Y-you were gone all day-” He didn’t answer, the clumsy moment forcing her to jump, ready to face her train. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I just… She hurt you the first time around. I don’t want her to do it again if you’re thinking of getting back together with her… You deserve better.”

He sighed, understanding the sentiment behind her words. She worried for him, and he appreciated it. “We’re not getting back together.” No relief seemed to cross her. “I promise. She’s the last person I want in my life right now.” He was about to walk away when he stopped, owing the last piece of truth of his day to her. “But yea... You could say, I got her out of my system.”

She felt a percussion hitting her right in the chest. With a hitched breath, she swallowed the lump lodged in her throat – though it remained stuck. “G-good. That’s good- for the closure I mean.” She was hiding her jealousy and had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She gave him a reassuring smile as he walked away with the same facial expression. Once gone, she cursed at herself, under her breath, as she fell back on her seat, her thick socks almost making her slip in the process.

Her head turned to her poorly decorated tree and the mess surrounding it, cursing at herself again. “You’re such an idiot, Lil… ugh, this is stupid.” She exhaled heavily, saddened and annoyed at herself. She bit down her tongue, holding back her tears. She should be happy his ex was out of his life, but the small twig of envy embedded in her, burnt her the way a paper cuts through skin. She chugged down a sip of her tea and got up, having the sudden urgent need to put everything away - not wanting to finish her task of adding some merriment to her home.

There was no point to it anymore, she thought.

'Dearest Liliann, I have some good news – I have a parole hearing coming up. Well, it’s yet to be good news depending on the outcome. I don’t know what to expect from the board. Whatever their verdict, I hope you will remain by my side as I’m sure I will need you... Sorry if I sound dramatic. If the hearing fails and my sentence remains, will you still write to me?’

“Oh, s-sorry!” She was startled by her sight, and quickly backed herself against the frame of her door while trying to turn around, only to end up almost knocking herself out along the way. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She had walked into her bedroom to find Sihtric doing a morning workout by her bed, surprising her.

He stopped at her entrance and got up to his feet, meeting her with a relaxed beam across his face. “You didn’t.” He was catching his breath, the smile on his lips remaining as he stood tall in front of her, shirtless.

She attempted to avert her gaze elsewhere, suddenly timid at his stance, desperate to spit out words for distraction. “T-training for something?” Her eyes kept gravitating towards him, a coy pull she couldn’t resist.

He chuckled, the sound coaxing a sightless tremor to her knees, as he picked up his shirt from the bed. “A habit I picked up.” She bit the inside of her lip, her teeth pressing harshly into the skin, as heat crept up to her cheeks and painted them pink. Flustered, she scrunched her face, eyes closed, as her hand stretched out to scratch the back of her head, tilting downwards. “I-I thought you were in the shower- I was going to pick up my s-scrubs for work...”

The sly smirk on his face was not letting him go as he noticed the redness in her cheeks and the stammer on her tongue. The shirt now covering him, he approached Liliann as he spoke up, trying to hide his amusement at her reaction. “It’s alright, I was heading out to the kitchen anyways.”

She nodded, her head lifted back up to him as she cleared her throat and pushed herself away when he stood in front of her, needing to walk through the door. She could barely set her eyes on him as he was watching her; the second of eye contact dried her throat, the blush on her cheeks deepening into her veins as butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach.

Once he was behind her, walking away, the breath she had held hostage escaped her. She smacked her cheeks, embarrassed by the way she had greeted him, and hoped to god he didn’t notice – though the haunted thoughts in the back of her head were telling her otherwise. She took a moment, gathering her senses while taking deep breaths to calm herself. She hated how rattled she had been; the scene replayed itself inside her mind, the results coming out differently than what she had just experienced.

Once dressed in her uniform, ready for the day, she made her way back into the living room to find him walking out of the kitchen just as she was heading out.

He stared, caught off guard at her appearance. She caught him, frowning in worry. “I-is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” He shook his head, his startling jump disintegrating. “No... I forgot you were a nurse.”

She mouthed a silent “Oh”, her instinct pushing her for the comical approach. “I don’t blame you. It is a forgettable detail.” She shrugged her shoulders, still jesting. “Even I forget sometimes.”

He chuckled at her comment; she grinned, content with herself she made him laugh.

She jumped back in, her demeanor, now calm. “I need to head out for work. Make yourself comfortable, alright?”

Sihtric grew uncomfortable, unsure of her proposal. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? You’ve been here two days already.” She picked up her purse and put on her coat before reaching for her boots, all the while trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced. “Yes, but you were here, with me.”

Liliann sighed; concern etched across her face. “Sihtric, I promise you, treat this place like it’s your own. For as long as you need.”

His shoulders fell, the uncertainty in his posture bringing her closer to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the heaviness of her belief in him weighing him down. “You really trust me to leave me here by myself?”

She chuckled while patting him on the shoulder.

“I trust you with my life.”

Her words had slipped, like a body rapidly falling on ice, before she even realized what they had meant. She blushed out of embarrassment, her eyes wide as she stared at Sihtric. She then stumbled on her feet, rushing towards the door to make her way out without even giving him the chance to respond to her remark. “I’ll see you at the end of the day. If there is anything, call me!”

He reluctantly nodded, thanking her again with a softness to his tone before she disappeared on the other side of the door.

The sudden silence that came with her exit left him overwhelmed, the sudden emotion crashing violently like waves would, into the bottom of a cliff under a heavy storm. Guilt grabbed him, unsettling feelings shaking him, haunting him almost.

The thoughts rummaging inside his mind pushed him to believe that her generosity was only there on behalf of his manipulation towards her. It left a bitter taste on his tongue, his heart growing heavy the longer he pondered over it while his stare leapt around him.

Aramis came to him while lost in his head. The cat purred against his leg, brushing his fur against the fabric of his sweats. Sihtric picked him up before glancing around the room again, his eyes following the trail of boxes his ex had left until they led him to the Christmas tree, the ornamental statue feebly standing with pride.

He sighed, taking a moment for himself.

He revisited the last couple of days – from the moment he finally met her at his parole hearing, to the night they almost kissed, and to the night after that.

The boulder grew heavy on his shoulders, the longer he pictured her in his mind’s eyes. He cared for her – that, he couldn’t deny. Yet, he knew himself undeserving of her, the anguish gnawing at him from the inside out. He knew she was breaking her neck for him, and he couldn’t let it go on any longer.

Aramis brought him out of his thoughts as the pet jumped out of his arms, the little one running away to sit at the coffee table. Sihtric approached him as he fetched his old phone out of his pocket. Dialing one of the very few phone numbers he could remember, he stopped when he noticed a box hiding under the surface of the table.

He bent down and picked it up, a small smile gracing his lips as he recognized the envelopes he had been using for his letters. Liliann had kept every single one of them – like he had done – including the first one she had received by accident. Looking through the stack of papers, he also found his ex’s ring, the piece of jewelry having been given back to his friend for safe keeping.

Sihtric’s heart broke remembering how their friendship came to be, when Liliann had received mail that was intended for the apartment across the hall. It was when Sihtric’s ex had rejected the letter in question, not wanting anything more to do with him, not because he was in jail but because she had someone else on the other side of that door, that Liliann decided to respond back and let him know – out of the goodness of her heart.

They had kept in touch since then.

Which now, he had almost wished they shouldn’t have; he should not have answered - he should’ve just let it be.

He ran his fingers through his hair, his head leaned back to the ceiling as he fell on the couch. Aramis jumped on his lap, creating himself a comfortable seat.

The man, traipsing back into his mind let himself wonder; she was one of the good things that had happened in his life. She was caring and he could confess his liking of her, but the lump lodged behind his ribcage, the one that echoed across his limbs from bones to marrow – he was not able to continue his thought, a distant voice shaking him back to reality.

He startled the cat from his sudden movement as Sihtric sat up, looking down at his phone as he realized the number he composed had answered.

He brought it to his ear, taking a second as a breath silently escaped.

“Hey, Finan? It’s me.”

‘Dear Sihtric, my name is Liliann. This letter mistakenly arrived at my door when I believed it was meant for your roommate? Or partner? I thought I should let you know, out of courtesy, but she refused your letter, citing that she no longer wanted to be in contact with you. I’m sorry about this. Hope things will get better where you are.’

The jiggle of the keys into her lock had stirred the cat awake, the pet rushing into hiding under the Christmas tree.

The door opening, Liliann walked in, in complete exhaustion; another hardening day at work, relief washed through as she stepped into her quaint home.

Closing the door, she stood still for a moment as she caught her breath - the broken lift was going to be the death of her, she thought; the stairs had been her Everest, always climbing them yet barely able to conquer.

Only when her breathing settled did she finally take note of the silence surrounding her; her eyes averted to the empty spaces.

All of Sihtric’s boxes were gone.

Perhaps he emptied them, she thought. Maybe it is silent because he was simply throwing them away, she told herself.

Yet, she couldn’t help but call for him, her voice carrying the smallest of echoes. “Sihtric?”

The eerie quietness unsettled her. It was different than before. It was colder somehow, lonelier.

She took a few more steps inside, until she noticed an envelope resting on her coffee table, her name etched eloquently across its surface.

Her heart dropped, dread aggravating the discomfort in her stomach.

The bags she had been holding in both hands, the groceries she had picked up for the simple task of wanting to make a home cooked meal for him, clattered on the floor with the bottom thudding softly against her rug. She had thought it would have been nice to make dinner for two, for once; it was the simple want of recreating her childhood holiday traditions and sharing them with him. To spread some cheer in this damp place, to give him some spirit after the roughness of his last few years.

Hands trembling, she reluctantly picked up the envelope and slowly opened it before pulling out the sealed letter.

My dearest Liliann, this is my last letter…

She couldn’t go on, her eyes stuck to the first sentence, paralyzed. The words resonated within her brain, trying to fully comprehend their significance until they struck her right into the pit of her chest, a sudden sharpening pain striking her ribcage.

Unable to hold on any longer, the paper was let go as it flew downwards until it softly reached the carpet in a silent swoop.

It was as if her body had given out, her knees buckling under the weight of her heartbreak.

Devastation settling at her core, a staggered breath stroke her lungs as her throat choked, ready to erupt under a dawning new reality; it wasn’t the dim lights of the tree, which added a melancholic glow to her living room, that broke her down.

It wasn’t the emptiness of her apartment that tore her apart. Something was amiss, odd and suddenly unfamiliar, but it wasn’t the state of his place that left her to drown.

Hope having vanished, warmth having dissipated from her home, she was left bare and desolate.

It was crippling.

No longer strong enough to stand, she sat on her knees, holding in her tears as her mind was disjointing the last few days she shared with him. She wondered if she had done something wrong, something so upsetting it made him want to leave.

She didn’t dare read the rest of the letter, too frightened of what the content could hold.

But if she only kept going, would she have found his penmanship detailing his apology for leaving her, how he was grateful for her kindness and generosity but how, as well, it was best if he remained away from her. How she was better off living her life without him, how he was asking for her forgiveness at leaving so abruptly, and that he wishes her the best. At how he would forever be grateful for the hope she gifted him and how the letters had become the only source of happiness in his dingy world.

‘You’ve given me so much, Liliann, and I hope, despite the way I have left, you will accept this parting gift… Wishing you the best with your future.’

The purring of her cat caught her attention as he reached for her, pressing himself against her knee. She picked him up and started stroking his fur while settling him against her chest. Shattered, she exhaled a deep breath as she looked down at him, her voice carrying a tremor at the back of her throat. “I guess it’s just the two of us again…” Her fingers reached for his chin, scratching softly before her gaze wandered around until they fell back to her pet again.

“You’ll never leave me Aramis, right?”

The dejection laced into her words was met with a gentle purring. She frowned when she saw her cat did not move.

The softest of calls tickled her ears again and she lifted her head, following the unfamiliar sound.

A shaken breath escaped her lungs, and tears swiftly escaped their confine as they stroked her cheeks.

Liliann stared at the box by her tree while hugging Aramis closer to her.

Within the silence of her living room, the noise resonated once again.

She could see it, but believing it was still a challenge to grasp.

It had done it once more, her heart shattering into pieces as she silently cried.

Across the room, a rescue kitten peeked out of its box, calling for whoever would listen.

It was but a singular note that had set up the rest of her night.

“Meow.”

-----------------------

xoxo

#the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric x oc #sihtric fic #sihtric fanfic #tlk fanfic #arnas fedaravicius #mywriting #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom fanfic #Photo by Ranurte on Unsplash #tlk

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lonely-eli · 4 months ago

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Trippin' On Hallucinogenics - Chapter 8

Note: We're nearing the end of Year 1! There will be short hiatus after next chapter as I get everything set up for the rest of the fic! (and I mean SHORT hiatus)

Barty made it a habit of going to the Slytherin common room after dark, it wasn’t hard to sneak over there once he had learned the routes that all the teachers take. He only tripped once, falling across the floor gracefully, and making a loud thumping noise before scrambling up and running the rest of the way.

“You’re ridiculous,” Evan said when Barty told him the tale.

“You love me,” Barty replied.

Pranks had been happening all year, thanks to “the Marauders”, but Barty had never been the victim of one, he managed to accidentally avoid the one they pulled on the Ravenclaws by falling asleep in the Slytherins house instead of his own. The Ravenclaws all woke up to feathers for hair, Pandora laughed and wore it in stride, even waving and thanking Remus and Sirius.

“Pandora!” Lily Evans greeted, waving at her, “Hey!”

Barty and Lily’s relationship hadn’t grown since that first encounter, however, Lily’s relationship with Pandora had seemed to grow.

Mostly everyone was fond of Pandora, despite her being a Rosier, something Barty attributed to Pandora being Pandora. Sirius tried to avoid her because she hung out with Regulus.

Barty stood patiently to the side while Pandora talked to the muggle born, chatting animatedly about the different kinds of unicorns there were. Barty was unaware there were multiple kinds. Xenophilius stood behind Pandora, he had taken to following her around like a lost dog after Christmas. Barty glared at him and he quickly retreated to the Ravenclaw table.

Eventually, Pandora finished with Lily and waved to the Gryffindors before walking over to the Slytherin table. Barty groaned, his stomach agreeing with him, but followed her.

“Evan,” Pandora said to her brother, he glanced at her in acknowledgement, “We are getting a letter from father today.” “Fantastic,” Evan grumbled.

Barty cocked his head, this was the first time that he had seen or heard Pandora or Evan acknowledge that their parents existed beyond going home.

They hadn’t gotten any letters from their parents, Barty realized, his eyes widening slightly, and he hadn’t seen Pandora send a letter at all.

“Barty?” Pandora asked, clapping a hand in front of his face. He blinked out of his stupor.

“What?”

“I asked if you had gotten word from your mother recently, about us being able to hang out over the summer,” Pandora said.

Barty had gotten a letter from his mother… and father, it was a definite no. “You may not hang out with those bastard children” was the exact words of the letter, something his father had added no doubt. Barty told Pandora as much, and she pouted.

“Poop,” she said at the same time Evan finally looked over at the two of them.

“So sneak out.”

“What?” Barty asked, terrified at the thought of it.

“Sneak out, you’re always going on about how you want to fight against your father, so do it. We’ll meet you halfway.”

Barty pictured his father catching him and standing over him with his wand, he pictured falling to the ground, locked together, but this time his head hits something and he slowly bleeds out while his father stands over him, laughing.

“I—I can’t.”

“Your loss,” Evan said with a shrug.

My loss.

Regulus finally took notice of them, “Go sit down.”

Pandora and Barty obeyed, but not before Pandora gave Regulus a hug, Regulus hugged her back tightly.

***

“Regulus,” Sirius started. Barty and Evan got in front of their friend quickly.

“Leave him alone, muggle lover” Evan snapped. Sirius glared at Evan.

“I’m just trying to talk to my brother.”

“He doesn’t want to.”

They were trying to leave the Quidditch pitch after watching the Hufflepuff team practice when they were ambushed by Sirius, and an uncertain Remus. The taller boy was playing with his hair, with his other hand in his pocket, looking ready to jump them if they messed with Sirius.

Regulus was frozen behind Barty and Evan.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Barty repeated, “So leave us alone.”

“Regulus—”

Pandora wasn’t there because she had managed to escape and study alone in the library, but Barty had been dragged along.

“You’re just going to let them talk for you,” Sirius demanded, “Please, Reg, I just want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Regulus found his voice.

“There’s so much,” Sirius protested. He started to walk forward—

“Flipendo!” Barty shouted. Sirius was forced backwards. Remus caught him and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

“You little—” Sirius snarled.

“Expelliarmus!” Remus cast Barty's wand, slipped out of his hand and flew to him. Remus caught it and twirled it in his hand like it was a sword. Evan took out his own wand, but Remus was quicker, “Expelliarmus!”

Barty watched Remus’s wand movements, Evan watched his wand fly out of his hand. Evan stared at his empty hand before jumping on Sirius.

Sirius grunted and started punching Evan back, he hit Evan in the eye. Evan kicked him in the stomach. Remus leapt in to try and grab Evan and pulled him off of Sirius, but it seemed like he was fighting just as much as Evan and Sirius were.

“BARTY,” Evan snapped. Barty ran into the action and did his best. He’d never been in a fight. He punched Remus in the stomach, weakly.

Remus kicked him in the privates, Barty just managed to twist so that his foot connected with Barty’s stomach. Sirius grabbed hold of Barty, Evan tackled Sirius. The three of them went sprawling, with Remus helping Sirius up immediately.

“SIRIUS AND REMUS,” McGonagall's voice carried over the pitch. She was striding over to them, “I don’t know why I expect better of you at this point.”

Barty took a second confused, then realized how this must look to McGonagall. Two second-year Marauders standing over two first years who really hadn’t done that much. Barty put on his best face and slowly got to his feet, his stomach hurt from where Lupin had hit him. Evan had the beginnings of a black eye. They both looked around for Regulus, and he was still standing over them staring at McGonagall.

“Professor—”

“I don’t want to hear it, twenty points from Gryffindor each and two days detention for all of you,” McGonagall sighed and pinched her temples then muttered, “Making me take points from my own house— All of you come with me to Pomfrey.”

“We’re fine, Professor,” Barty said, gesturing to himself and Evan. Really, he didn’t want to go to Pomfrey.

“I will not have students walking around bruised!” McGonagall said with a glance at Lupin, who shrugged.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Now, Mr. Black,” McGonagall said, addressing Regulus, “I suggest that you head off to dinner.”

“Yes, Professor,” Regulus said, head down.

Barty, Evan, Sirius, and Remus all walked to Pomfrey like little ducklings behind McGonagall.

“Oh dear,” Pomfrey said, when she saw the dirty boys. They all had reached a stage of embarrassment through the awkward silence in the halls, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“Barty Crouch,” Barty said.

“Well nice to meet you, I’m Madame Pomfrey. These three already know me.”

She smiled at Lupin, who smiled back, but looked very tired.

“What has Evan come in for?” Barty asked, he couldn’t imagine the reason why his friend could have needed to come to the nurse.

“Failed Potions experiment,” Evan said with a shrug, “It blew back in my face.”

Pomfrey sat them all down and started healing them one by one, bringing Lupin’s face back to the scarred, but not bruised, mess it was before. Evan got his eye back, and Barty’s stomach felt less like it was crushed into itself.

“There, good as new,” she said with a flourish of her wand.

“Thank you, Madame,” Barty said, going back to the manners his mother taught him.

“I don’t want to see any of you back in here for a fight,” Madame ordered. They all nodded, “Now you’re free to go to dinner, but Remus may I talk to you for a second?”

Lupin paled, Black looked at him nervously and murmured something to him.

“Yes,” Lupin eventually said, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I’ll save you some food,” Black said, bumping Lupin’s shoulder with his own. Lupin smiled.

Barty grabbed Evan away and took them over to the Great Hall.

“What happened?” Pandora asked when Barty sat down.

“Got into a fight,” Barty said with a shrug, he glanced over at Evan who was whispering something to Regulus.

“With who?” Emmeline asked, speaking up from her usual spot beside Pandora.

“No one important,” Barty said dismissively.

“Are we ready for finals?” Pandora asked.

Barty groaned and leaned back on the bench.

“Kill me now.”

#rosekiller #regulus black #pandora rosier #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #sirius black #remus lupin #madame pomfrey #evan x barty #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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chweverni · 1 year ago

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Mate (pt.3) - what are we?

pairing; joshua hong x reader

synopsis; joshua asked you to keep a promise like no other. lately he's been too mushy and kind to you, or are you just too into this? he really left you wondering, what are we?

word count; ~1.4k words (new milestone!!)

author's note; i wanna thank @minhui896 for their huge support in this series aaa >.< im new to writing on tumblr so your comments and reblogs really make my day!! read part 2 here!

it's exam week right now. during this period, you normally shut off any kind of distractions and tend to study alone at most times, so you've been using that as an excuse to ignore the obvious bump in the road, joshua hong.

you two met up regularly after his birthday either at cafes, museums, the art room, math club, while going home (even though he lived on the opposite side of the city), arcades, you name it. and gradually, you realized that, your just a crush isn't just a crush anymore.

but we won't blame it on you though. joshua's been sending you really mixed signals lately. he would leave your favorite drink in your desk, along with cute notes which read, 'keep up this energy all day y/n! you got this :)' or 'is it just me cuz you look really bothered today? what's up?', which made your tooth rot pretty bad. because, how can someone keep up with being this adorable?

you suddenly decided it's best not to indulge in him for too long, because if you don't do well in the finals, your scholarship may be withdrawn, which you could not afford to lose.

your finals soon ended in a breeze, and the results came in pretty early. since it was just the homeroom period, you decided it's best to utilize this time to go check on the rankings. just this once. you thought to yourself as you shut your eyes hard while standing in front of the leaderboard. you felt the presence of someone else behind you and soon, some large hands covered your eyes.

"someone's checking up on their progress, i see?"

joshua. you sighed a sigh of relief. "don't ever jump up on me ever again! i will end you," you said, feeling his hands, in an attempt to nudge it away from your eyes. "care to explain why you've been m.i.a like for three weeks, y/n? do you have any idea on how worried i was? i thought you took yeon-du's attitude to heart!", joshua hurriedly said, and once again, you could see the pout on his face, even with your eyes shut. you turned around and removed his hands off of your face.

"why do you care for me so much?", you asked, and fuck, your heart felt like it was sinking. you hated how down bad you probably looked to joshua right now, but what's been done has been done. you stared at him with marble eyes. "because i do, y/n.", joshua replied, cupping your face with his hands, inching ever so close to you. you backed away, but the stupid wall hit your back. no where to go now.

"what are we?", you asked, grabbing one of his wrists with your hand, lifting it off your cheek. a tear made it's way down it right after. joshua looked at you intently. he halted for a moment, and then said, "that's not how you ask someone out, you dummy."

before you could even open your mouth to say something, he grabbed your shoulders and turned your body around to face the leaderboard. "oh look! miss y/f/n y/n placed first in the class! congrats love," joshua spoke, the last nickname being a smooth whisper to your ear.

what the fuck? you turned around just to see him walking away. you quickly paced to him and jabbed your hand in front of his body to stop him. "what did you just do?!", you asked, your blood finding its way all up to your cheeks. joshua flashed you a smile, handing you a torn piece of paper as he said, "you still owe me a wish, y/n. and you have a lot to make up for the three weeks of absence, remember? meet me here at 5 today!"

the paper had the address of a local restaurant, and well, how can one resist good food with a good friend?

you waited patiently at the table, tapping your nails on it to cure your boredom. what could possibly go wrong today? you thought to yourself. what if this is all just a stupid high school dare that joshua's been forced to do? what if, that was just his evil twin who tricked you into thinking that joshua, might, have the hots for you? while you busied yourself with those thoughts, joshua sat in front of you, smiling at your zoned out state.

"hi! i would like to talk to y/n; is she back from the underworld yet?", joshua spoke, as he slid a pink box towards you through the table. you flinched and grabbed the box to open it. it had a bracelet, with cute bunny charms in the middle. cute. you thought. "hello joshua! you didn't need to do this though, but did you make it yourself?", you asked him, your stomach releasing a thousand butterflies at the thought of wearing something your crush made for you.

joshua nodded. "i picked up this new interest recently, and i wanted to make one for you after i saw the bunny charms! reminded me of you.", he smiled. you couldn't hold your obvious smile back too, so you faced the ground, a bright red blush adorning your face. joshua chuckled. "what would you like to eat? we can take a walk near the beach afterwards! that'd be so fun!", joshua asked. you picked up the menu and voiced your orders to him.

while eating, some of the sauce stuck to the corner of your lips. you were telling joshua about why you weren't online for three whole weeks but you were interrupted by him wiping the sauce off of your face with a tissue. you nearly choked at the gesture, which left you coughing like crazy. joshua handed you a glass of water, as he softly rubbed your back.

you both decided to pay together, and headed outside towards the beach nearby. as you walked, your eyes landed on a small stall, selling cream buns. you absolutely loved cream buns. being unable you dragged joshua by hand towards the stall, asking for two right away. "my mom used to get me these as a kid; i still love them now! ah! i missed the smell so bad!", you squealed with excitement.

now it was joshua's turn to feel all mushy with love while he saw you absolutely devouring the food. you looked like a kid who was denied all her sugar rights by her mom. how can someone be this adorable? he questioned.

taking a walk in the beach had never felt this romantic. joshua agreed to take a few pictures of you on the beach, and you did the same. you both played with the seashells you collected and heck, you wondered if this was a date.

the sun was setting, and you were sat on the sand, your head laid on joshua's shoulder. "is this a date?", you asked, out of the blue, as you turned your head to look at him. "did you even confess to me, y/n?", joshua asked playfully. "forgive me for thinking you were gonna ask me out today.", you huffed crossing your arms and distancing your body away from him. he wrapped his arms around you and scooted you closer to him. "let's try this one more time, yeah?", he said.

"y/f/n y/n, will you go out with me, pretty please?", he asked, booping your nose with his index finger, his eyes forming crescent moons as he smiled.

"yes.", you replied short, inching your face closer to him, making your foreheads touch.

in no time, his lips crashed into yours, and your body felt like levitating. it finally happened. your crush likes you back, your scholarship was in fact, not withdrawn, and, thanks to your sweet boyfriend, both of you were made the new representatives of the math club. talk about relationship goals.

back to the kiss. it felt magical because he grabbed your hands and squeezed it tight in the midst of the kiss. and that made you lose your mind. you broke the kiss and hugged him tight. "thanks for today, my now-boyfriend, joshua hong!", you said with a smile.

back home, you decided to check up on your instagram. joshua had posted a few photos. as you swiped through the photos, you felt a sense of pride, cause you took them, obviously. but the collection also had your photos with him at the restaurant, which you thought was adorable. and the best part, the caption read,

proper date next time? @(your u/n)

let's just say your dopamine levels were really high all night.

ASSHSHS you've reached the end!! i hope you liked this final part. pls send me support as always <3

all creds to @chweverni only on tumblr!

#seventeen #joshua seventeen #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #joshua hong #caratsland #joshua fluff

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polarisbibliotheque · 1 year ago

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Survivor's Blood (Leon x Reader) - Chapter 5

Survivor's Blood

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (you are here!)

Summary: After Raccoon City, Leon became the only Government agent with that kind of expertise. With relentless training, he was now a Special Agent - again, on his first day in the job. He just didn’t expect to live Raccoon City all over again… Maybe Leon was fated to always have the worst first-days-at-work ever.

Age Restriction: 18+. It’s horror, so expect a lot of graphic violence and blood dripping from this. I mean, VERY GRAPHICAL VIOLENCE. Nothing we haven’t seen on RE, but still. Yee been warned

TRIGGER WARNING: Bloody hospital. Really. Bloody, horror movie hospital :|

Author’s notes: Took some time, but hey, we're here!! Funfact: I have this extention on my browser that changes some words of what I'm reading to a target language I'm wanting to learn, and now Magical Donuts appear in my browser as Magical Beignets. I absolutely adored it and I might re-read everything just to laugh at the random French words being thrown here.

I hope you like how it's turning out!! A lot more to come!! And thank you so much for reading and being around ^^

Chapter 5

Hospital Arklay Hill, April 29th, 2001 – 22h03

The way to the hospital was a lot quieter than any of you could have anticipated. The rule was to save ammo and move without drawing attention, always trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Even though you were in Leon’s schedule, you still considered yourselves late.

You followed with Leon leading the way, as agreed. He dreaded the possibility of you getting caught by surprise if you were ahead of him – even if you said you knew your way around guns, Leon had a certain trauma of losing people in situations like the one you found yourselves in.

“Y/n. Can you talk to Valerie?” As soon as you found shelter behind an ambulance tumbled in the street, he finally talked to you. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I can.” You started fumbling with the radio, its only purpose to communicate with the hospital survivors. You spoke with no answer for a while until you heard a hiss in response, fixing the frequency so you could hear it better. “Valerie? Can you hear me well?”

“Hi, y/n? Yes! Yes, I can!” The woman was clearly smiling, being washed by the happiness of knowing you didn’t abandon them. “How are you? Did you meet Leon?”

“Yeah, he’s here with me.”

“Hey, we’re almost there, Valerie.” Leon sat by your side, close enough so you touched shoulders. You kept the radio near your faces, making you both lean into it a little so you didn’t have to speak too loud.

“We need to know where you are in the hospital.” You added, glancing quickly at Leon. “And if you can go to a place where the extraction will be easier.”

“I don’t know if we can… I don’t even know where an easier place would be in here.” Valerie sighed, speaking in a lower voice tone while the other survivors argued about something else. “Almost all the patients got affected by this… I don’t know… Epidemics? I don’t even know how to call it.” She shook her head, sitting in the corner of the room so she could guarantee a little peace. “We managed to lock ourselves in one of the exam rooms; it’s not that hard to get here… After the reception, you need to turn right and then left in a long corridor. In this corridor, there’ll be a lot of doors: the third one to the right, you’ll get into a restricted area, the corridor to the exam rooms. We are in the…” And Valerie took a few seconds, mentally counting. “Fifth? Sixth door to the left? Sorry, I can’t remember for sure… But when you get here, we’ll hear you.”

“Hmmm, just a sec…” You had a good memory and Leon was trained to keep a good amount of information, especially in moments like those. But he had no idea of the hospital’s architecture and with that, you could help. “Leon, you wouldn’t happen to have a pen in one of those many magic pockets, would you…?”

Leon furrowed his brows, giving you a funny look as if asking what the hell you were thinking at the same time he scolded your comment about him taking so many things to the field. After Raccoon City, he became stupidly proficient in inventory management in the field and he had a good idea what was useful or not. A map and a pen proved to be crucial when he got stuck in the police department and roaming around the underground laboratory, trying to find everything he needed to leave those places.

So yes, even though he didn’t want to admit, he had a pen that he took off one of his many pockets almost against his will. That only made you smile.

“Thank you, Mary Poppins. You wouldn’t happen to have a piece of paper too, right…?”

Leon rolled his eyes as he took the map he folded enough to fit one of the pockets. Of every nickname he could have had in his lifetime, ‘Mary Poppins’ would be the last he would’ve imagined to be graced with.

“Ok, here we go…” You held the pen cap between your teeth while laying the map on your thighs. Leon could only hold the radio and accept his fate. “Can you repeat it, Valerie? Please?”

As the woman spoke, you drew a little map of the hospital on the back of the city’s map, trying to remember the sizes of the rooms so Leon would have a better idea of the place you were going in – as well as help you remember all the details without having to call Valerie all the time.

“It isn’t that far away from the hospital entrance.” You showed the place in the improvised map. You pointed the path with the pen. “If we clear the way from the entrance to the exam room, we won’t have to go in deeper and, with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave with no further problems.”

“Hmmm…” Leon analyzed the drawing. You were right, but… “There are other rooms along the way, right?” You just nodded in response. “There’s no way for us to know how many zombies are inside each room and if they are open or not. We can clean the way there, but it’s always possible for something to appear along the way.”

“That’s why one of us should lead the way and the other should be on the back, as we’re doing right now.”

“Ok. I’ll go ahead when we get there and, when we’re leaving, I’ll be on the back and you’ll lead.” Leon checked how many bullets he had left on his handgun – up until that moment, he didn’t see a use for the shotgun but that was about to change. He could feel it. “I think it’s worse if something we don’t know follow us from the inside of the hospital than another zombie crossing our already cleared path.”

“Fair enough.” You agreed more so you wouldn’t argue than anything else: you had lots of arguments to state you were more than capable of dealing with whatever creature that appeared from the insides of the hospital, but you could delay that argument.

“I need to warn you…” Again, Valerie lowered her voice. She was quiet for a while, considering if she would continue the warning. “I’m not sure what I saw. But I think… I think I saw… Something… Different from the people who were infected. Horrible. It looked like it was out of a horror movie…

“What was it, Valerie?” Up until that moment, Leon had reasons to believe what happened in that city was the result of a virus outbreak, but other creatures? Raccoon City was used as a laboratory, but New Setosa? Was it a field test? Whose? Umbrella’s? A lot of questions crossed his head at the same time; and none had an answer. “Can you describe it to me?”

“No. I can’t.” The woman’s answer was adamant. “I closed my eyes and remained quiet. But it looked like… An animal. That thing couldn’t be human. It wasn’t human.

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know either. I just saw one and when I realized it was far, I ran the fastest I could and didn’t leave this room anymore.” She remained in silence while you both waited patiently. “Out of everything that’s out there, that’s what I’m afraid the most.”

“We’ll find a way. If we find one of these things along the way, we’ll manage.” You had certainty in your voice, making Leon discreetly look at you. It was incredible how you remained brave, even if apparently – even when you had all the reasons to be scared.

As the conversation came to an end, you went back to your walk towards the hospital – now you could see the big, white building with green windows in the distance; the luminous sign with the letters spelling “Hospital Arklay Hill” was clearly stained with blood and some of them had a hard time shining, twinkling among the darkness of that night.

“Do you know what she was talking about, Leon?” Your question was quiet, following him as fast as you could without attracting a horde of zombies.

“I’m not sure…” He glanced quickly over his shoulders. “I saw a lot of things that couldn’t be considered human in Raccoon, that’s why I asked her to describe it to me. It’d be easier if we went in knowing what we’ll find, but the virus affects people in different ways: some become undead, others mutate into things that could easily come out of a horror movie.”

That made you think in silence – it wasn’t just Leon who had his doubts about what was going on in New Setosa. Initially, everyone thought it was a sudden epidemics of a virus attacking the nervous system: some people were quarantined in the hospital, until it started to spread – you had never seen a disease that spread so quickly. You also had never seen a pandemics, but that’s how you imagined an epicenter to be: non-stop contagion, loss of control and deaths. So many deaths.

You were scared. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were. Your feet didn’t really want to follow your will to move forward – but, if you didn’t go with Leon, he would have to go in alone.

And if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want to be alone – as well as if you were one of those people in the hospital, you would want someone to save you. You couldn’t turn back now.

“Are you ok?” Leon checked while taking the map from one of his pockets to make sure you were in the right path and what the objective was. Leon remembered quite well, but he wanted to have a better idea – and maybe, seeing the hospital in the distance, he could understand the proportions of the rooms better. “You’re too quiet all of a sudden.”

“We barely know each other and there you are, already saying I talk too much.” You raised one eyebrow as he just took a deep breath to tell you how wrong you were. “Relax. I know. I just needed to release some tension. We need to go to the second hall and turn in the first corridor.”

“The second hall is through that door, right?” He pointed to a passage closed by a milky glass door, blocking your view of the next room. You nodded in agreement. “Let’s go then. Time to hope we won’t find the thing that worries Valerie.”

With a gesture from his hands, you prepared your gun and, now walking by his side, you quickly followed to the door you hoped would still work. As soon as you approached, the doors glided open enough for just one of you to squeeze through, jamming midway open with a strength that made it tremble. You exchanged looks and Leon crossed to the other side before you, immediately checking the right side of the room as you followed him and checked the left side.

It smelled like death. The hall was big enough to harbor a considerable amount of undead, but you found only three. One of them didn’t seem to understand how to move around the reception desk and let itself free from wherever it was stuck, another was stationary, staring at you both. And the third was banging mercilessly at the vending machine, as if it had swallowed its coin and it didn’t spew out whatever it had bought. The rest, was the classic: dead people torn apart on the floor and chairs, the walls stained in blood.

“We’re running through them?” Your question was valid: you had noticed Leon had a tendency to save each and whatever resource you found or had along the way, so you thought it was better to check before doing anything.

“Hmmm…” Leon thought for a while. Going through was a good option, but it would be a problem if you found anything worse in the corridor. If that was the case, you would be stuck, with problems in the front and in the back. “We don’t know what’s in the corridor, we might get sandwiched between this problem and something worse.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Even if your answer was serious, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing internally at his choice of words. After all, it wasn’t everyday you heard ‘sandwiched’ in such a serious conversation. “Let’s go then.”

With those words, you pointed your gun to the stationary zombie as Leon followed to the reception. With two certain shots, you both wiped out those zombies, drawing the attention of the third one, who slowly turned around and finally reached out to you, dragging itself as you met Leon in the middle of the room once more. With coordinated shots, the vending machine zombie was exterminated.

“If I knew you’d shoot as well, I’d have saved the bullet.” Leon gave you a small smile, making you mirror his expression. “You shoot better than a lot of people I met.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You answered in a quick laugh, walking by his side towards the long corridor you now needed to cross.

Leon would have asked what you meant with those words, but as soon as you reached the big white doors that blocked the corridor, you fell silent. You were lucky the survivors at least tried to leave and ended up close to the entrance: the place was huge and if they were in the most distant wings, you would have serious problems.

With your backs to the door, each of you on each side, you waited until he nodded in a sign for you to enter. You both pushed the heavy door quickly, pointing the guns as soon as you entered the corridor, ready to shoot the first thing that appeared in front of your eyes.

But there was nothing.

The corridor stretched into a pitch black darkness with broken light bulbs that twinkled in whatever rhythm, humming with the energy that crossed the useless filaments. A couple of bodies were thrown on the floor – at least as far as your eyes could see – chewed by something… Different. The walls had blood stains in shapes of hands, on the floor, feet that tried to flee in despair. Beds, syringes, gloves, hospital paraphernalia… It was all tossed along the way, as if the place was hit by a hurricane – and now, it laid in a heavy silence in the foul air.

In Leon’s experience, that kind of situation was worse than the chaos: when there were screams of despair, you usually knew what was attacking and where the survivors were. When there was only silence, all you could do was to pay attention to whatever noises and hope you wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Stay alert.” Leon murmured as low as he could, leading the way. Your steps were calmer and a lot more careful now that you didn’t know what you could find. With his eyes now getting used to the lack of light, Leon found the door Valerie told you about – a little farther than he had expected.

Your steps were quiet behind Leon: even if you knew how to shoot and you wanted to be there, you couldn’t deny he was the best person to lead the way – after all, he was trained to that kind of situation.

You carefully dodged the pools of blood on the floor. You didn’t want to run the risk of slipping and falling over all that mess – you were already sufficiently dirty and all you wanted was a good shower to feel as good as new. As you crossed a good part of the corridor, you approached the first passage to the right that connected that corridor to another hospital wing – through another equally dark corridor.

You would’ve had normally walked by it if you hadn’t heard a strange noise coming from that corridor.

It was like an animal’s hiss. You allowed Leon to keep walking as you turned around to make sure there was nothing else needing rescue.

And it was the first time you saw that.

A creature that looked like it had no skin, with long claws, roaming the corridor with its four paws on the floor; sharp teeth framing a long, menacing tongue. You froze in place, terror filling your eyes. It was the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life and you didn’t know what to do. Had that thing seen you? Should you shoot?

Before you could make any kind of noise, though, one of Leon’s hands quickly covered your mouth, pulling you towards him. You didn’t resist: with eyes wide open, you turned to him and found Leon with one of his fingers on his own lips so you would remain silent. You nodded frantically and, as he let you go, Leon held one of your hands and started walking as silently as he could so you could reach the door Valerie told you about.

It wasn’t that far away, but it seemed enough for a marathon. You heard that thing sniffing around, paws heavily hitting the floor, chasing you: slowly, calculated, searching for something it knew it was escaping. The claws scratched the hospital floor, the animal hiss louder and louder. You held Leon’s hand with a little more strength.

If you had to choose how to die, it would be by zombie. Never by something like that thing that chased you.

You risked a look above your shoulders, finding that thing finally reaching the spot in the corridor where you were before. There was so little left for you to reach the door. Leon pulled you closer, walking a few last steps to get to the next passage.

You almost said something when you saw that thing jerking its ugly head towards you. Stopping in front of the door, Leon finally looked at it: they were about to be noticed. You were so close. It knew.

Leon looked at you and tried, as best as possible, to tell you through hand signs to run as soon as he opened the door. You nodded in affirmation and, as soon as Leon pushed one of the metal bars to open it, the thing raised its head like a dog, screeching like chalk on a board, viciously running towards you.

“Go!” Leon did his best so you entered the corridor before him, quickly following. To your terror, the thing that chased you was too fast.

Leon wouldn’t be able to get in: having crossed the door, you saw the claws of that thing already prepared to tear his back open – and that would be a huge problem.

As he tried to escape, you didn’t think twice: aiming your gun, you almost emptied it in that thing’s head. You didn’t know how many bullets you needed, nor how many of them were there, and you didn’t even care if you needed to go on in complete silence – you wouldn’t allow that thing to kill Leon in such a stupid manner.

The creature fell heavily on the floor while Leon stumbled into the corridor you found yourself in. That thing’s tongue stretched until almost hitting your feet, as if even in death it wanted to tear you apart.

“What the fuck is this?!” That was the only thing you managed to ask, still staring at that thing with widened eyes, your hands trembling on your gun. You didn’t even have to state the adrenaline shock had been strong.

“Dunno. The guys at the station called it Licker.” Leon took a few deep breaths, a little discombobulated by how you had emptied your gun on the Licker instead of running in despair or screaming for help – saving his life in the process. “The good news, they are as blind as a bat. The bad news, those things smell and hear very well, so we need to be very careful and not make any noises when we see one of them.”

“Hmmm… I remember that name, Claire mentioned it a few times…” You also took a deep breath, giving that thing a last look. “I didn’t think it would be that ugly. And scary.”

“Oh, c’mon. They could win a beauty pageant.” Albeit the seriousness, you could hear a hint of a laugh in the back of his voice as you got back on track.

At least you were lucky enough for that place to be empty.

“I’ve never seen such a funny person in an apocalypse.” You aimed your gun above Leon’s shoulders in case something appeared in front of him. You didn’t hear any menacing noises, but that was only worse, considering the situation.

“Well, not my first apocalypse.” He shrugged, thinking about his own words. Who would’ve known one day he would find himself saying something like that. He imagined where he would be in four or five years, how he would handle that kind of situation. He hoped he would be an agent who feared nothing and could deal with things objectively, and even with a certain level of humor. “Which door? Fourth or fifth?”

“Actually, fifth or sixth. She didn’t really know.” You corrected him, pointing to the nearest door. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah. You go ahead.” He pointed the door with his head, giving you cover.

“Valerie?” You lightly knocked on the door to avoid too many noises, even if you had just done a whole rock show with all those shots in the Licker’s head a while ago. You didn’t notice, but a hiss echoed from the end of the corridor, making Leon aim his gun and his flashlight into the darkness, finding anything in return. “It’s us! Y/n and Leon!”

You heard a commotion inside the room and it confirmed you were at the right door. While the click of it opening and the handle moved to greet you, the hiss repeated itself, louder – but, as soon as the door opened, the sound of claws hitting the floor added to the soundtrack.

You, Leon and Valerie looked in the direction of the origin of the sounds – with the claws taking a vicious speed – making you hold Leon by his bulletproof vest and run inside the room as fast as you could, not allowing him nor Valerie to think of something else. The nurse, though, was quick enough to lock the door as soon as you stumbled inside, making the creature lose your track – without ever leaving the corridor.

“You’re here! Alive!” Valerie immediately locked her arms around your neck, holding you as if there was no tomorrow. You widened your eyes, glancing at Leon. He just giggled: it wasn’t everyday he saw someone so uncomfortable with hugs as you seemed to be at that moment. “Thank you so much…!”

“Thank you for what, Valerie?” A grumpy man interrupted the moment, stuffing his clammy hands in the dirty lab coat pocket. “They can very well end up locked up in here with us! They haven’t done anything to save us yet!”

“But we will, sir.” Leon tried to be diplomatic, noticing not so friendly looks shot at the man from you and Valerie. Someone had to be the voice of reason in there, or the very survivors would end up killing each other. “The goal is to leave here right now so we’ll get to the school at 22h20.”

“And then we’re gonna do what? Open the books and start studyin’?” The man wiped some of the sweat that dripped from his greasy hair, his little eyes filled with anger amidst that stuffy room. “Or you’re gonna find a magic way to get us out of this damned city?”

If Leon was younger, he would’ve answered with calm and patience.

But he wasn’t that rookie cop from Raccoon City anymore. He didn’t need to have that much patience. Not after all he had been through.

“As Special Agent from the Government working under direct orders from the President, I have a special task team with the best soldiers from the army, ready for an extraction operation of the survivors in New Setosa.” Leon was probably being too harsh, but, honestly, someone would have to put that guy in his place, be it by being gentle or by brute force. And, right now, Leon wasn’t that inclined to being gentle. “I think it’s enough magic to deal with this situation.”

And that talk was over.

“Under direct orders from the President…?” You had your arms crossed, slowly approaching Leon while he organized what was left of the ammo and loaded the shotgun. He raised his eyes to you, finding you with a small smile coloring your lips. That made Leon mirror your reaction, a little embarrassed by the way he spoke before.

But that guy really pissed him off.

After his answer, the survivors gathered to listen to the instructions on how they would cross the city to the school – having that little intermission to prepare ammo, items they wanted to take with them, care for any wounds and get ready for the journey to safety. And, while Leon got ready in his own lone corner of the room, you approached to talk to him.

“Yeah… That’s what happens when you survive a disaster like Raccoon.” He sighed slightly. “I ended up as a Special Agent just because of that, I’m the only one with this expertise.”

“I doubt all Special Agents have direct orders from the President of the United States.” You leaned on the bed Leon used to keep the guns and ammo as he counted and organized them. “C’mon, Leon. You didn’t get here ‘just’ because your star twinkled in Raccoon. To have this kind of job, you need to not only be a good agent, but an intelligent one as well.”

“Oh, well…” Leon shrugged, feeling his cheeks slightly burning and trying to do his best for you not to notice it. At least he was lucky: the lights from the room were broken. “You’re gonna have to ask that to the President.”

You narrowed your eyes, smiling right after. You didn’t know if it was just something he was saying to escape that conversation and dodge a compliment or if he was trying to tease you.

And, when you noticed the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips, you knew it was a bit of both.

“So cocky.” You muttered back, making him raise his eyebrows and stare you in shock – but clearly holding back a laugh. “After that, I’ll only leave you with the shotgun ‘cause you’re the one dealing with that monstrosity outside, Mr. super-government-agent friends with the President.”

“Ok, I’m not complainin’.” And he loaded said gun, already leaving it ready with the strap across his shoulders. “Here. More ammo for your gun. After you shot that Licker like a cowboy, you’re gonna need it.”

“And I would’ve shot it more if I could.” You answered while reloading your handgun. Two magazines were probably more than Leon could give you at the moment – but you had already learned he had a big heart. “I’ll lead the way? As we agreed before?”

“I’m the one with the shotgun, ain’t I?” He raised one eyebrow, making you flash a little smile at the answer. “At that pace, you’ll end up workin’ for the President as well.”

“Yeah, right…” You shook your head, deflecting the compliment. Even so, you winked back at him. “If you’re my partner, I’ll think about it.”

“I can make that happen, alright?” Leon pointed at you, making you giggle. “You ready? It’s time to go.”

“Yeah. I think you should ask them that.”

Indeed, the survivors didn’t look too excited – but as Leon knew quite well, you didn’t need excitement to save your own life: you just had to run and never look back.

To be continued...

21 notes · View notes

oliverreedmasterass · 2 years ago

Text

Sam Kiszka Sees God While Eating Spicy Wings | A Hot Ones Parody

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of incontinence, just overall nastiness, milk

Synopsis: Sam Kiszka goes on Hot Ones and experiences an exceptionally devastating fall from grace

Notes: thank you @jmkho for reminding me how awful it is to rub your eyes after touching something spicy!!

_______________________________________

“Hey, what’s going on everybody!” Sean Evans smiled wide at the camera. “From First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings.”

Across the table, Sam was sitting with his hands folded in his lap, patiently waiting for his introduction.

“Today I’m joined by Sam Kiszka of the rock group, Greta Van Fleet, who is releasing their third studio album, Starcatcher, on July 21st.” Sean turned from the camera to acknowledge Sam. “It’s great to meet you, Sam.”

“Likewise, Sean,” Sam called back. With a grunt, he leaned over the table to extend a hand to Sean to shake. Sean seemed thrown off by the gesture, but scooted forward in his stool to grab Sam’s hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m starving, I could really go for some wings right now,” Sam joked.

“How do you handle hot things?” Sean leaned back in his chair and studied Sam, as if sizing him up. From the look on his face, it seemed like Sean was skeptical that Sam’s thin stature would be able to handle the scorching heat of the hot sauces that were coming his way.

“I’m all for it,” Sam waved Sean off. “I’m into this kind of shit, permanently damaging my taste buds and destroying my stomach for days on end. This is what I do to feel alive.”

“I feel like you’re being sarcastic.”

“A little bit,” Sam chuckled. “But I do like a bit of spice to my meals. I’m the guy in my family who needs to put a little Tabasco on everything.”

“Some of these are gonna be a step up from Tabasco,” Sean warned him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just about,” Sam replied. He gently pushed the full glass of milk in front of him onto Sean’s side of the table and then hoisted a 24 pack of Corona Lite in front of him. Sean watched with interest as Sam tore into the cardboard casing and retrieved a bottle, pulling off the top with his teeth. “Want one?” Sam asked.

“Sure?” Sean guessed. Sam started to open a second bottle with his teeth, but someone from the crew quickly forced a bottle opener into his hand before he could.

“Oh, thanks?” Sam asked, looking around to see who had given him the instrument. He didn’t understand the point of bottle openers when teeth literally exist but, because he was on film, he popped off the cap like a normal person and slid the drink to Sean.

“Do you find that beer takes the edge off of the spiciness?” Sean asked. Sam shrugged back at him.

“I just wanted an excuse to crack into that 24 pack,” Sam replied after shoving a lime into his drink and taking a thoughtful gulp. “So, what’s the first level?”

1. The Classic - Chili Maple (Hot Ones Hot Sauce) - 1,600 Scoville Heat Units

“We’ve got The Classic Chili Maple sauce coming in at 16,000 Scoville Heat Units,” Sean shared. Sam stared down at the vegan wing in front of him and gave it a testing poke.

“Say,” Sam had to ask, “has anyone ever tapped out after one wing? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely gonna make it to ten, I just want to know what I’m up against here.”

“We’ve had a few guests definitely not finish the interview,” Sean replied with a grin. “DJ Khaled and Ricky Gervais had a pretty rough time. Not as bad as Bobby Lee though.”

A few of the crew members groaned behind the cameras, which made Sam perk up.

“What happened to Bobby?” he leaned forward to conspire with Sean.

“Let’s just say his body rejected the wings pretty harshly,” Sean slowly thought out his words. “From the back end.”

“Fuck,” Sam choked out and then took another sip from his bottle. “Well god, I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen to me.”

“For the sake of me and the crew, I hope so too,” Sean said. Then, he held up his wing and Sam followed suit.

“Cheers,” Sam said with a cheeky smile, raising his wing up to Sean. They both took a hearty bite and immediately Sam groaned outwards. “This is the shit,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s so sweet and tangy.”

Sean watched as Sam proceeded to devour the rest of the wing, to the point where the sauce formed a ring around his mouth and covered all of his fingers.

“Do you want a napkin?” Sean let out a laugh. Sam waved away a crew member that was trying to hand him a paper napkin.

“Nah ah,” he said, food still in his mouth. “I’m saving all of this for later.”

“Okay, Sam,” Sean tried to regain Sam’s attention, “I do have some questions.”

“Fire away,” Sam motioned for him to go with one hand while he licked the other.

“So, legend has it, your older twin brothers, Jake and Josh, would drag you down to the basement when you were in grade school to play with them. At what point did you realize that music was something you wanted to do, and not just something your brothers were forcing you to do?”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna ask me about Frankenmuth,” Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Every single interview, I swear, we have to talk about living in a small Bavarian town in Michigan with the world’s largest Christmas store.”

“I’ll take that question off my list,” Sean joked, pretending to scribble something out on a paper next to him. “No, I promise you’ll get some questions you haven’t heard before.”

“Hot wings and new questions, now we’re talking!”

Sam continued to lick at his fingers, but then shot back upright when he remembered that he hadn’t answered the question.

“Oh, uh, being the youngest sibling has its trials and tribulations. I feel like I was fortunate that Jake and Josh paved the way for me, in a sense, setting expectations and showing me the right and wrong things to do. I’ve always admired them.” Sam stopped and whispered to Sean, “Actually, cut that out, I don’t want them knowing that, it’ll feed into their already massive egos.”

“Cut that part out,” Sean turned to call at the producer.

“My parents raised my siblings and I in a musical house: my dad plays blues with some local guys, my grandpa is in the Polka Hall of Fame, so I feel like I have these musical genes coursing through my veins. Jake was the first one to really take music seriously and, of course, anything he does, Josh will follow suit since the two are practically inseparable. Sure, when I was younger there were other things that I wanted to do than practice for eight hours straight in the basement, but it is something I pretty quickly grew to love. I enjoy building things, and creating music is a fascinating experiment, trying to connect with people sonically. I think from a young age I recognized the value of human connection and wanted to keep pursuing that.”

“So, going back to the musical genes, it’s almost like you were meant to do this,” Sean clarified with Sam.

“God, that makes me sound conceited, doesn’t it?” Sam scrunched up his face at the thought.

“Not necessarily,” Sean tried to assure him. “It just means that you’re on the track that feels right to you, which is something I’d hope everyone can accomplish.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” Sam nodded. He thoughtfully licked the remaining sauce off his fingers.

“You look ready for another wing,” Sean observed.

“Hell fucking yeah I am,” Sam said.

2. Banjee Ranch - Shaquanda’s - 6,200 Scoville Heat Units

“This one looks good,” Sam commented while he took in the mustard-colored sauce. “I can see the herbs in there, I already know the flavor is going to explode in my mouth.”

Sam dug in and, once more, looked like he was experiencing heaven. Sean cut in before Sam started moaning again.

“Last year you were featured on a song with Stealing Oceans and Scott Avett called ‘Stars on the Ceiling.’ On this track you bust out a pretty impressive guitar solo, which I heard you came up with on the spot. How did your brother, Jake, feel about that?”

“He didn’t believe me when I first showed him the song and told him I was the guitar,” Sam chuckled. “He called me a shithead.”

“Was he a little threatened?” Sean guessed.

“He knows he’s better than me, he’s got nothing to worry about,” Sam shook his head. “He did have a few pointers for me afterwards about different tones and effects I could have used to make the track sound more complex, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. At the end of the day it’s just a fun, jazzy, funky love song, which I think the world could use more of.”

“How do you feel about dipping your toes in other genres?” Sean asked after enjoying another bite of his own wing. “Jazz and funk stray pretty far from Greta Van Fleet’s sound.”

“I’m all for it,” Sam couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I mean, even within Greta Van

Fleet, sure, we’re a rock band at our core, but if you compare our sound from our first EP to now, there’s a massive difference. Yes, we aren’t producing a hip hop album or country or something like that, but we really enjoy experimenting with sound and blending genres to create something innovative and attention-grabbing.”

Sam seemed content with his reply since, when met with a second of silence, he finished off the rest of his wing and, to Sean’s dismay, let out a long, deep groan. As if that wasn’t out of pocket enough, Sam wiped the last part of his wing around his mouth, gathering the sauce from the first round to enjoy. By the time he was done, his face resembled that of a toddler after an especially messy meal.

“This is a walk in the park,” Sam told Sean. “I’m having an absolute blast.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Sean extended a compliment where it was due. “You’ve still got a ways to go though, don’t get too cocky.”

“You sound like my bandmate, Danny,” Sam chuckled.

3. Cadejo - Donis - 15,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Are you ready for a step up on the heat scale?” Sean asked as a crew member placed a new wing in front of Sam. Sam grabbed the hot sauce bottle from the line in front of him and inspected it.

“Habanero? Now we’re talking.”

Sean gaped while Sam dumped a hearty pile of the sauce on his plate and then, with his sticky fingers, rolled his wing in it so it covered the entire surface, not missing a single spot.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sean tried to talk Sam down, but his competitiveness had entirely taken over.

“I think I do, Sean,” Sam looked up at the host with a surprising amount of intensity. Sean had to take a split second to ponder if he had made a massive mistake letting Sam on his show, but he cleared his throat and returned to his list of questions while Sam practically inhaled his sauce-drenched wing, entirely unaffected by the heat.

“So, Justin Bieber,” Sean started.

“Oh boy,” Sam let out a loud laugh. “Justin Fucking Bieber. Has he ever been on this show?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I was gonna ask how well he did.”

“We’ll get him on here and you can come back and have a wing-off.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’ll be there,” Sam stared Sean down. “We have a lot of unfinished business.”

“Speaking of which,” Sean cut in, “you claim that he stole your birkenstocks at Coachella back in 2018.”

“He did,” Sam looked directly into the camera to confirm.

“It’s been five years and I’m assuming he hasn’t given them back to you?”

“Not even a sorry note,” Sam frowned.

“What would it take for Justin Bieber to earn your forgiveness?”

Sam leaned back and let out a deep exhale, looking lost in thought. The camera slowly zoomed in on his face, tracking his eyes that seemed to be searching every part of the ceiling.

“This is a hard question,” Sam admitted. “My mom always encouraged forgiveness. She said that resentment was more of a punishment for the person feeling that emotion than the one it was directed towards. The problem is, I really liked those birks. I mean, they were my first pair: we’d been through a lot. So, I guess the rational answer is I would forgive him if he gave them back to me and they were in the same condition as when he took them. I’m sure he has some nice cars too, though. If he let me take one of those I would probably forgive him.”

“Are you a big car guy?” Sean asked.

“I am,” Sam nodded. “I mean, I have one car that I drive around, I don’t need to be that guy that owns 17 cars and only drives one or two of them a handful of times a year. But I think if Justin offered me a lamborghini or a ferrari, I would probably take it.”

“You and me both,” Sean laughed.

“I’d drive it to the grocery store, just doing mundane errands, going 25 mph like a law-abiding citizen. It would drive all the car enthusiasts out there insane.”

“I respect safe driving,” Sean nodded.

“Safe driving is cool driving,” Sam agreed.

“Do you like any Justin Bieber songs?” Sean slipped in another question.

Sam looked on the brink of snorting, but stopped himself short so he wouldn’t offend anyone.

“His music is, uh, not quite for me,” Sam tried to be as civil as possible without expressing his intense disdain for pop music. “I respect what he does and I will admit that he’s a talented musician, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to any of his albums.”

“Fair enough,” Sean shrugged.

“I feel like I’m in the hot seat,” Sam joked. “I’ll go home and find that people on Twitter canceled me for having bad taste or something.”

“I think you’ll be okay,” Sean reassured him.

4. Los Calientes - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - 36,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Another Hot Ones sauce!” Sam exclaimed when he saw the next bottle. “You guys do a great job with branding, this is such a niche market.”

“We were lucky the idea blew up,” Sean smiled. “You’ll find that this one has a lot of flavor packed in with a punchy blend of sweet, tart, and spicy. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Sam grinned. He poured the sauce onto his wing and then shook a drop out onto his tongue. “Oh hell yeah,” he said, not breaking a single sweat.

“We have a segment on this show called ‘Explain That Gram,’” Sean shared with Sam. Sam’s face contorted into a look of worry. “We look at your Instagram and you explain some of the photos that need a little extra context. First off, you look really concerned, why?”

“I don’t remember what I have posted on there,” Sam admitted.

“Nothing too incriminating, don’t worry,” Sean told Sam as he grabbed a laptop from one of the crew members and pulled up the first image. “Your Instagram is highly stylized, it looks like you put a lot of thought into it: where did the 3 thematic posts idea come from?”

“I started doing that a few years back,” Sam tried to remember, “I’m pretty sure my now ex-girlfriend introduced me to the idea that you need to maximize the formatting of Instagram to make a page that deviates from the norm while looking pleasing to the eye. I’m not a huge social media fan, but there is something really satisfying about using that three column setup to create a string of posts that, as you scroll through them, almost look like they’re happening in chapters. It just feels more put together, I guess.”

“It was nice to look through, I agree with you there,” Sean said. “I’ll need to take some notes.”

“Hey, there you go, Sean,” Sam beamed.

“Let’s look at this photo first,” Sean said, turning the laptop in Sam’s direction.

Sam leaned forward and squinted at the photo of his homemade pickles.

“Mmm,” Sam licked his lips. “That was a good batch.”

“Pandemic hobby? Sean raised an eyebrow.

“You got it,” Sam nodded. “Being stuck inside for that amount of time was like an out of body experience. After a week, I don’t know if this happened to you too, but I started to feel like I was in The Yellow Wallpaper or something. So I tried to dodge that feeling with homemade pickles. There was an article in a magazine I get monthly and I figured, eh what the hell? It didn’t take that many ingredients, I like pickles, the science behind food fascinates me, it all felt right.”

“Do I see some chilis and garlic in there?” Sean asked as he studied the photo closer.

“I put a bunch of shit in there,” Sam laughed. “I love experimenting with things. You know, it’s really stunning how many flavors a cucumber can absorb when it’s in brine. It’s like the sponge of the food world.”

“I’ve never heard someone speak so fondly about pickles,” Sean mused.

“I appreciate the little things in life,” Sam said. He took another sip of his beer, finishing it off, and nearly choked on the lime that had popped back out of the bottle and into his mouth. Sean lurched up like he was ready to give Sam the heimlich, but Sam spit the remains of the lime out onto the table before he could. Sam coughed. “Whooo lord, that was a close one.”

“Are you good to keep going?” Sean looked concerned.

“Absolutely,” Sam brightened up. “You got another Instagram photo?”

Sean still seemed a bit worried, but he opened the next photo.

“Oh man,” Sam snorted, “I should have seen that one coming.”

“There’s a lot to explain here,” Sean agreed.

Sam looked closer at the old photo of him with “Fuck” written on his forehead while he stood in front of an impressive fire.

“I really don’t know if there is even any context to go with this.”

“I appreciate that you tagged the Frankenmuth Fire Department as the location.”

“Oh yeah, we definitely weren’t burning shit at the fire department,” Sam declared, but then widened his eyes and turned away from the camera.

“I’ve got one last post that I want to highlight and then we can move onto the next sauce. There’s a short video of you and your bandmate, Daniel Wagner, out in what looks like the desert, wrestling with a snake?”

“Okay, this is actually a funny story,” Sam clapped his hands together. “Basically we were doing the whole tour bus thing on one of our earlier North America tours and we were trying to hit as many national parks as we could. Daniel went into this gift shop at the Grand Canyon and secretly bought this fake snake because, you know, he thought it would be hilarious to prank my brothers and I. While we were at Monument Park, which is on the border of Arizona and Utah and absolutely stunning, Danny pulled this big old rubber snake out of nowhere and started to fight with it.”

“You booked it in that video.”

It was a really realistic looking snake,” Sam exclaimed. “I like to keep my distance from things that slither.” Sam started to mess around with his wing but snapped his head back up to look at Sean. “There’s a reason why there’s no audio in that video,” Sam added. “I was swearing like a sailor. There were a bunch of kids nearby too, I don’t know how we didn’t get thrown out of the park.”

“You’re just living the rocker lifestyle,” Sean kidded, which earned a hearty laugh from Sam. “Thanks for your insights, I’m sure quite a few peoples’ burning questions have been resolved after that segment, ‘Explain the Gram.’”

“Happy to help,” Sam continued to laugh.

5. Ghost Pepper Hot Sauce - Brooklyn Delhi - 39,000 Scoville Heat Units

“We’re in the spicier terrain now,” Sean shared.

“Ah yes,” Sam bounced in his seat. “This is the place I like to call home.”

“Coming in at 39,000 Scoville heat units, this one relies on the punch delivered from India’s famed ghost pepper, bhut jolokia, which provides a long-lasting heat.”

“I love it,” Sam rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. “It’s been a while since I had a ghost pepper. I used to pop those puppies all the time just to feel something.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest quite like you on this show,” Sean admitted.

“I love expanding my palate,” Sam shared. “And knowing my boundaries when it comes to spicy food. Right now I’m pretty sure that boundary doesn’t exist.”

“Considering you’ve been chugging Coronas like they’re water and I haven’t seen a single tear form in your eyes, you might be right.”

“I’m just built different. I also used to eat fire ants as a kid, that might be helping me out too.”

“Did you really?” Sean looked beyond disturbed.

“No,” Sam laughed at how gullible the host was. “Fire ants are native to the southern states, they haven’t made the great migration quite that far up north yet.”

“You could have had me fully convinced,” Sean shared.

“I’m not gonna crack at all while eating this,” Sam promised as he pointed down to his wing. Sean held off on biting into his wing so he could concentrate on Sam’s facial expression as he pulled a large chunk of fake meat off and chewed it around. His face remained as stoic as a marble statue.

“No emotion at all.”

The camera pulled closer to Sam to show that his face was blank, not a single expression creeping out. He gulped the food down and let out a large burp.

“The seal of approval!” he pumped his fist.

“Now, Sam,” Sean said after finishing his wing, “You’ve said before that one of your favorite hobbies is finding vintage clothing.”

“Yup,” Sam nodded, “I love that shit.”

“Your outfits for your Dreams in Gold tour, which just wrapped up recently, were some of the most detailed pieces I’ve ever seen. How do you and your team come up with the vision for your stage outfits, and what is the intersection going on there between clothing and your music?”

“Greta Van Fleet is a band that loves symbols,” Sam replied. “Take one look at our album, The Battle At Garden’s Gate, and I think you’ll get it.”

While he talked, Sam made a show of pulling his shoes off under the table with his feet and wiggling out of his socks. Sean made a face at the stench that was coming from beneath the rounded table but then tried to maintain a poker face while he listened to Sam’s response.

“For this tour, we all agreed that every aspect of our show needed to contribute to a larger message. My brothers and I are all avid fans of film and, after watching enough movies, you start to realize how each costume is built with purpose. Pair that philosophy with my love for clothes and how they serve as a means of personal expression, and I became the largest supporter of teaming with a talented costume designer to prepare our outfits for the tour. Before our Strange Horizons tour we were wearing shit from thrift stores. I mean, it was fun to hunt around the day of a show for something to wear on stage that night, but nothing looked coherent. With our Dreams In Gold tour, we really took the first big step to define who we are as a band, and what we’re trying to achieve with our music. Jake and I have a lot of swords on our pieces, made by the ever exceptional Amber Doyle. We threw a lot of ideas at her, and she did a great job compressing them all into coherent designs.”

“That sleeve you’ve got on your left arm is something else.”

“Thanks, yeah, I started using that sleeve design during our Strange Horizons tour. I was really interested in the designs of webbing and wings and just the overall movement that they can bring to a stationary piece. Amber really liked the design when we came to her, and she promised she would keep that look consistent for my new pieces.”

“Does the wing ever get in the way of your playing?”

“Amber’s a genius,” Sam grinned, “She managed to design it in a way where I hardly noticed it was there. That is, unless I wanted to show it off.”

“Are you and your bandmates back at the drawing board now, planning your new designs for your upcoming tour, Starcatcher?”

“I can’t reveal too much,” Sam wagged a finger at Sean. “That was a good try. But I can share that we’re branching out in a new direction. These costumes have become an integral part of our show, and they aren’t going away any time soon. The challenging part is finding that sweet spot where we can wear things that look visually stunning and nuanced while maintaining some level of comfort so we can perform to our best ability. We’re testing the limits now, and I’m excited to see what the reception is to our new pieces. It should be good.”

“I wish I could have snuck an answer out of you on that last one,” Sean slapped his hand down on the table in joking frustration.

“You won’t have to wait too long for an answer,” Sam tried to comfort him. “Our tour starts in July, so you only need to wait a few more months. I am really looking forward to seeing how fans will dress at our shows for this tour,” Sam thoughtfully added. “They take this fashion thing as seriously as I do - you should see some of the outfits, these fans look like they should be up on stage with us. They’ll make replicas of our stage outfits with their own hands. It’s something else.”

“You’ve got an artistic vision that people can get behind,” Sean commended Sam.

“It’s an exciting thing,” Sam nodded back with a twinkle in his eye.

6. Mushroom Mayhem - Torchbearer Sauces - 68,000 Scoville Heat Units

“You’re vegan, right?” Sean asked Sam.

“Yes sir,” Sam nodded.

“I think you’ll appreciate this next sauce. It’s got a blend of mushrooms to provide a hint of umami, which contributes to an overall meaty flavor. But this sauce is about as vegan as they come.”

Sam licked his lips.

“Yummy yummy in my tummy.” He stopped for a second and reflected on what had just come out of his mouth. “Sorry,” his face turned scarlet, “that was weird.”

“It was like you regressed for a second there,” Sean commented. “We’re past the halfway mark now, this is where things start to get a bit intense.”

“Finally,” Sam remarked. He took a hefty bite and then chased it down with his second bottle of Corona. “Okay,” he said after clearing his throat, “that one did have a bit of a punch.”

“The cracks are starting to show,” Sean teased him, which Sam responded to by rapidly shaking his head.

“Nah ah,” Sam protested. “I took that one like a champ.”

To prove himself to Sean, Sam took the bottle and, once more, shook some of the sauce onto his tongue. Sean watched him with his mouth slightly ajar as Sam swallowed it down and patted his stomach.

“Delicious.”

“You can take that home,” Sean motioned towards the bottle. “We let all of our guests take whichever hot sauces they like best, but man, at this point I think you need to just take all of the bottles.”

“Oh good, I’m glad I don’t have to sneak these out under your nose,” Sam nodded. Sean pretended like he didn’t hear that comment and returned back to his questions.

“You and your band released a series of short Masterclass parodies back in 2021. I have to know, what inspired the character, Cal A Bungah?”

“I’m so glad I can finally address this,” Sam sounded genuine. “Cal A Bungah was the character that started it all: I had all the guys over and we were in the kitchen, making some appetizers and I just pulled this cocky chef character out of my ass like it was nothing. There’s an inside joke among my friends and family that I can’t cook for shit which, I don’t know about that, but I decided to roll with it. So was talking this big game about being a celebrity chef and knowing everything and how meat eaters like Gordon Ramsey are going to rot in hell, and Josh was like, ‘dude, we should make a video about this.’”

“How much of that video was improv?” Sean asked.

“All of it,” Sam grinned. “They put me in that goofy chef outfit, said ‘rolling’ and I just went to town.”

“I have a few rapid fire questions for Cal, if he’d be willing to answer,” Sean looked Sam down. Sam beamed at the idea and let out a loud laugh when one of the crew members passed him a chef hat. Sam pulled it on over his long, brown locks, and gave Sean a dorky smile.

“How do I look?”

“Professional,” Sean replied. “Now, Cal, do your skills extend any farther than cutting veggies and making a margarita?”

“I can’t believe you would ask someone with this much skill and prowess such a demeaning question,” Sam balked. “Pass.”

Sean let out a short laugh and returned to his list.

“What’s the problem with squash?”

“There’s no problem with squash,” Sam said as he folded his hands in front of him. “That reaction I had on film was a raw response to something larger than life. When I saw that squash, you know, actually held it in my hands, I felt like I was holding a part of God. I think you’d be rendered speechless too if you went through the same thing.”

“Fair enough. What makes the perfect margarita?”

“I’ll show you,” Sam answered. Sean called out in shock as Sam leaned under the table and grabbed a lime, some tequila, triple sec orange liqueur, ice, salt, and a cocktail shaker.

“You were keeping all of that under there?” Sean sounded stunned as he looked under the table to see if Sam was hiding any other secrets.

“Dave Grohl got to bring drinks on here, why can’t I?”

Sam twisted the lid off of the tequila and dumped a generous amount into the shaker before taking a swig of the booze straight from the bottle.

“Just have to make sure it’s not poisoned,” Sam explained himself. “The key to a perfect margarita is measuring with your heart. I don’t know what one fluid ounce looks like and, at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. So you just kinda eyeball it and, when it looks like enough, you stop.”

“A true master of your craft,” Sean had to quip.

“Add a splash of triple sec,” Sam continued, and then squeeze some lime juice in there for good measure. Then you shake the shit out of it.”

Sam stood from his seat after securing the lid over the cocktail shaker and made a show of moving around the set, shaking the drink like he was a part of the rhythm section for a fast-tempo song. When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a highball glass from seemingly nowhere and placed it over Sean’s head, in front of him. Sean gazed up in awe as Sam let the stream of margarita flow from the shaker down into his glass.

“Rub some lime and salt around the rim and then give it a sip,” Sam coached Sean. “And you better tell me that you just had the best goddamn margarita of your life.”

Sean followed Sam’s commands and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a cautious sip. He smacked his lips a few times, let out a small choke, and failed to hide a grimace.

“It’s great, right?” Sam asked over his shoulder while he fixed himself his own drink.

“It’s, something?” Sean failed to find the right words. Sam didn’t seem to notice how much pain he was putting Sean through since he happily took a gulp from his own cup and then settled back in his seat. “This is fun, I’m having fun,” Sam decided. Sean squirmed around in his seat.

7. Dreams of Calypso - Angry Goat Pepper Co - 101,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Oh, this sauce is gonna go well with my drink,” Sam called out in glee as he observed the next bottle. “Tropical fruit and a fucking hot pepper? Now we’re talking!”

“Is your stomach made of metal or something?” Sean asked after quickly passing his barely touched margarita off to a crew member to dump down the sink.

“It’s all about your state of mind,” Sam explained. “If you tell yourself you’re going to feel pain, you’re going to feel pain. But if you tell yourself that you’ve had worse, you’re going to be fine. The brain is a powerful organ, it can make or break you.”

“Let’s see that philosophy in action,” Sean encouraged Sam as he motioned down to the wing. Sam grabbed it with a look of determination and tore into it.

“Not so bad,” Sam announced as he chewed. “You can hardly even notice the kick.”

“Right,” Sean stared at Sam in awe. “So, you’ve rubbed a lot of elbows with some pretty big names in the music industry since you first started off, namely Elton John and Metallica. Are there any groups or musicians that you would want to either collaborate or tour with?”

Sam started to think, but quickly got distracted by the flow of mucus that was starting to pool out of his nostrils. He tried to be covert about it, since he desperately didn’t want Sean to think he couldn’t handle spicy foods, so he quickly rubbed his nose. All that did was spread the snot across his face.

“Well,” Sam grunted out, trying to act cool, “If John Denver was still alive, I’d have to say him.”

To Sam’s dismay, even more snot was coming out of his nose, to the point where it was dripping down onto his shirt. Sam attempted to ignore it; maybe it was something the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up.

Across the table, Sean gaped at the boogers flooding out of Sam’s nostrils like a waterfall. While Sam blabbed on and on about all of the jazz and blues musicians that he admired and wanted to tour with, all Sean could do was study his nose in wonder, guessing when the flow would finally stop.

It was a relief that one of the crew members couldn’t take it anymore, since she passed a napkin off to Sam and, under her breath, begged him to wipe his schnoz. In grim defeat Sam let out a loud honk as he snorted into the tissue, and then wiped at his face, clearing the mucus away.

“The short answer is John Denver, George Gershwin, or Howlin Wolf if they were still alive. Taj Mahal would be exciting though too.”

“I think you need another wing,” Sean was ready to test Sam’s limits. Although Sam’s confidence was visibly wavering, he nodded his head.

“Bring it.”

8. Evolution Hot Sauce - Da Bomb - 135,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Still doing good?” Sean checked in with Sam. He liked to give his guests the opportunity to tap out before they shit themselves.

“I’m fantastic,” Sam replied with certainty, his cockiness returning.

“This one usually slows people down.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sam nodded down at the wing. In comparison to his previous large bites, Sam took a more inquisitive chew and was quick to gulp it down. Suddenly Sam’s eyebrows raised and his cheeks started to flush. He let out a short gasp and popped the top few buttons of his shirt. Sean watched him in glee, relieved that his strange guest was finally starting to be torn down by the scorching heat.

“This is a walk in the park,” Sam gasped out, his eyes welling with tears. He downed the rest of his margarita, blew his nose into his hands, and then downed the remainder of his second bottle of Corona. As Sam heaved out gasps of air, Sean cheerfully returned to his questions.

“You caused quite a stir amongst your fans with your impromptu visit to New York. What inspired the trip, and what touristy places are you planning on taking your bandmates when you’re back in September to play at Madison Square Garden?”

“What spices did they use in this thing?” Sam heaved between gags, “stuff out of Satan’s asshole?”

“Scorpion peppers,” Sean explained. “They’re pretty hot.”

“No kidding,” Sam coughed. Even though he was fighting for his life, his hands trembling at the overwhelming nature of the spice, he considered Sean’s question. “I wanted to go to New York,” he answered between coughs. After grabbing another bottle of Corona and chugging it, Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and continued. “Plane tickets were cheap, our management thought it might be a funny gimmick for me to announce our world tour in an unconventional way that was sure to get people talking. Um, Danny wants to go to the Central Park Zoo, I think Jake would enjoy the Hard Rock Cafe. Josh probably wants to go to Rockefeller Plaza.”

“All great spots,” Sean agreed.

“Shit, I feel so alive,” Sam groaned outwards.

“Are you okay?” Sean raised an eyebrow.

“This is great, I have health insurance, it’s all good,” Sam rambled, starting to sound incoherent. He brought the Corona back to his lips and tilted it back, accidentally splashing half the bottle down the front of his button up shirt. “Aw man,” Sam pouted down at his mess. Within seconds, a new napkin was in his hands, which he used to dab at his wet spots. “I haven’t stepped in any human shit yet on the subways,” Sam shared while he continued to clean himself, even though Sean hadn’t asked.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen human shit on the subway?” Sean replied.

“You’re not looking hard enough,” Sam answered back.

“Are you feeling ready to move on to the next wing?” Sean changed the topic.

“I’m feeling like I could get another wing in my mouth, Sean,” Sam said.

9. Taco Vibes Only - Butterfly Bakery of Vermont - 638,000 Scoville Heat Units

“We’re two away from the end,” Sean congratulated Sam.

“Nearly to the finish line,” Sam nodded before flushing out his nose into a tissue again. “I promise you, the nose blowing is a new one,” Sam continued. “This has literally never happened to me before, so I’m really curious what the hell you’re feeding me.”

“Hot Wings,” Sean stated flatly. Sam squinted back at Sean, not buying what he was saying. It wasn’t often that Sam got knocked off his high horse.

“This sauce uses a simplistic recipe so the peppers can really shine through,” Sean recited. “It features just lime juice-”

“Like the margaritas,” Sam cut in.

“Right,” Sean nodded. “And cumin and coriander to enhance the natural tangy and earthy notes.”

“If I can taste anything other than fucking hot on this wing, I’m gonna impress myself,” Sam said.

“It’s mostly so the viewers know what you’re dealing with,” Sean explained.

“Well,” Sam looked across to Sean, and then into the camera. “Here goes nothing.” Sam did the sign of the cross for good luck and then bit into the wing.

“Ho,” he almost immediately rasped, staring off into nothingness. “Hooooooooo hoooooooooo.”

Sean chuckled as Sam started to breathe like he was giving birth. The tears were back in his eyes, and they were pouring down his cheeks so they splotched on the table cloth and Sam’s pants. “Agh,” Sam was making incoherent noises, and then he suddenly stopped fidgeting and sat upright, staring directly above Sean.

“Oh shit,” Sam murmured, and then clawed at his tongue for a brief second.

“What?” Sean asked, whirling around on his stool to try and catch a glimpse of what Sam was staring at, his mouth wide open. “What is it?”

“God,” Sam whispered. “I see God. And he looks like a hot wing.”

Sean stared at Sam.

“Hello God,” Sam whispered.

“I don’t think he’s okay,” Sean turned to the producer. “Maybe we should stop here.”

“What’s that, God?” Sam asked louder. “Eat another wing? Sure thing, boss.”

“Maybe don’t do that,” Sean tried to put a hand up to Sam, but it was already too late. Looking like he was lost in another dimension, Sam grabbed the bottle of hot sauce and dumped it into his bottle of Corona and started to slurp it down.

“Oh Jesus,” Sean frowned.

“My mouth feels disconnected from my body,” Sam hummed. He dropped the beer bottle back onto the table and then threw himself back so he nearly toppled over on his stool. By some miracle he was able to push himself back upright, and then grabbed another napkin to wipe his sauced up hands. He looked back up at the space above Sean’s head and gasped. “There’s two gods now,” Sam breathed out. “It’s so beautiful.”

Sean was paralyzed in place, gawking at Sam, who had tears rolling down his cheeks again.

“So beautiful,” Sam exhaled. He grabbed the napkin from the table and lifted it up to wipe his eyes.

“Oh wait, no,” Sean tried to stop him, but it was too late.

Sam was now the one frozen, his eyes wide with fear and shock as he realized his mistake.

“SHIT!” he snapped out of it, hollering in pain as he threw his hands up to cover his eyes that now had hot sauce in them. “MOTHER FUCKER!”

The producer nodded for Sean to continue going and, as disturbed as he looked, he cleared his throat and talked over Sam’s calls of immense pain.

“In your song, ‘My Way Soon,’ your brother sings, ‘I’ve seen many places, there are so many places.’ For a 24 year old, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot: from the sketchiest dive bars to playing in front of thousands in packed stadiums, which places do you feel were the most monumental in your musical and personal journeys?”

Sam hadn’t heard a single word that came out of Sean’s mouth because he was too busy dumping his glass of milk onto his eyes while begging for forgiveness from the hot wing gods.

“Give me peace, oh mighty lord!” Sam cried tears of milk.

“He’s not finishing this,” Sean decided with a sense of finality. He thought that Bobby Lee had gone through the worst experience on his show, but the kid from Michigan had experienced the most devastating fall from grace he had ever seen.

Sam’s eyes were bright red, his clothes were beyond destroyed from all the milk, booze, and sauce he had spilled on himself, and his hair was plastered to his face from the sweat. He looked as though he had been to the farthest edge of hell and had to crawl back. Steam practically seemed to be pouring off him as he shakily stood from the stool and then plopped down on the ground so he could lean forward into a fetal position, his head up in his knees.

“I fucking hate hot wings,” Sam groaned from the floor.

10. The Last Dab: Apollo - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - So fucking hot the Scoville Heat Units don’t exist

“Let me sub in,” Danny said, running from behind the camera to the table, extending a hand for Sean to shake in confusion. “I’m Daniel Wagner, drummer for Greta Van Fleet,” Danny introduced himself to the camera. “My buddy, Sam, was so close to making it. He told me beforehand that if he couldn’t do it, I would have to finish it out for him.”

“That’s a first on this show,” Sean seemed to be growing on the idea.

Danny squatted down to Sam’s side and patted his arm.

“I’ll close this out for you, Sam,” he promised his best friend. Sam opened his

bloodshot eyes for a second to look up at Danny and then squeezed them shut again and let out another deep, low moan. “He’ll be okay,” Danny assured the crew. “He’s been through much worse. He could probably use some eye drops though.”

Danny gave Sam one more pat for a little extra reassurance, and then dragged him by the feet to the edge of the soundstage so he was out of the way.

“Glaugh,” was all Sam could say.

Danny returned back to Sam’s toppled stool and set it back on its legs so he could perch on it.

“Last wing, right?” he checked in with Sean.

“You got it,” Sean nodded. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna handle it like Sam did on that last round. That was hard to watch.”

“Trust me, I’m the sane one in the group,” Danny assured him. “Do you have a question that I can answer while I eat?”

“Well, uh,” Sean was thrown off-guard. “It’s really more of a question for Sam.”

“Try me,” Danny said as he added a dollop of hot sauce to his wing.

“Your, or, Sam’s dog, Rosie, seems like a really important part of his life, appearing in a lot of the band’s instagram photos and tiktoks. If you knew she could understand you, what would you tell her?”

“That is a better question for Sam,” Danny agreed, his mouth already full of the wing. “This is delicious, by the way.”

Sean gaped at Danny. The highest level wing hardly had an impact on him. He looked as if he had just bitten down on some celery.

“I would tell Rosie,” Sam gargled from the side of the stage, “that her dad is a big old wuss for tapping out early on Hot Ones!”

“You got close, Sam,” Danny turned around to tell his friend. “You got really damn close. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“I’m a failure,” Sam sniffed.

“The wings did kick your ass, bud,” Danny agreed.

“We usually give guests the last part of the show to plug anything they might be working on right now,” Sean interjected. “There’s a camera there, there, and there that you can look into.”

“Oh, sweet,” Danny perked up and set his finished wing gently down on its plate. “Okay, well, our single, ‘Meeting the Master’ is out now on all streaming sites, our album Starcatcher will be released on July 21st, mark your calendars, and we’re going on tour at the end of July. We’ve got a lot of exciting stuff for you down the road, I can’t wait to put it out into the world. Wanna add anything, Sam?”

“Can I have some more milk?” Sam whimpered off to the side.

“Of course, Sam,” Danny promised him. “Anything to add about any upcoming projects?”

“Upcoming projects?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Sam.”

“I’m gonna pump my stomach,” Sam shared.

#great van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #starcatcher #hot ones #sean evans #sam got so close #but god was that a rough ending for him

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cloudbattrolls · 9 months ago

Text

Setting the Snare

This drabble is preceded by Cutting Commentary and followed by Grey Tidings.

The best liars are those who know their misdeeds are safely obscured, and all they need do is stall and redirect blame. Yet Halvir made one crucial error.

Artair shakes his head. "If you must pursue this thin ray of hope, then so be it. Let us hope the defense doesn't have any other outraged peons ready in the wings."

The muttering in the gallery continues for several moments until the judge bangs his gavel severely on the bannister, roaring for order.

Artair seems unperturbed, merely brushing some unseen dust from his shoulder, while Hovend huddles into himself as much as possible.

More clinic staff are brought forward to state when they remember their breaks were and when they last saw the patient. Based on the various times given, the last nurse to see Calcit was Halvir.

One of them struggles to remember when their break was considering everything that happened that night, both he and Halvir estimate they took their breaks around the same time but neither remembers seeing the other.

Indrid, tapping her chin. "Yet we do have one last corroboration. Mr. Valtop, if you don't mind reporting who and what you saw that night during and around your smoke break..."

Giorni dutifully takes the stand. He states that he can remember taking his smoke break out by the exit door to the alleyway near to the time of the victim's death.

When he attempted to return to the clinic, however, he noted one of the mannequins was in his way. It was gesturing down the hallway, towards where the staff room and the victim's room were.

He thought it kind of strange, but then again, those things are nothing but strange, and brushed it off by sidling past it. He didn't remember seeing any other staff in the hallway at the time, so he guesses the person responsible for the ward at that time was probably in the staff room on break.

Artair rolls his eyes at the mention of the mannequin, but dutifully does not interrupt the testimony.

The other nurse who took his break when Halvir did replies that he has some familiarity with the nanites, but he hasn't been trained specifically to use them yet. He notes in his employee record that he's been given preliminary training but has yet to complete the final training required.

When Calcit died, he was working in a different ward, trying to replace someone's IV drip. He could hear the commotion, of course, but working on the opposite side of the clinic and not being on the crash team precluded him from doing much about it.

Indrid, nodding. "Can that be corroborated by the other staff?"

He nods. "Sure, that chief of security guy was in my ward when it all went down. He was checking for... I dunno, actually. He's kind of weird."

Yarrex steps right up to the witness stand, giving a salute to the judge and the defense. The judge is unamused.

"Yes, yes, I was indeed checking that man's ward, he was assuredly there the whole time. I was trying to see if there were any water leaks in the area. You see, I had been hearing this odd-patterned series of drops on the ceiling.

But there was no water damage! And mold is the greatest of foes we can face in a medical facility, aside from nanomachines that go berserk and eat people, but that is just how life is sometimes. Penicillin comes from mold, so, in a way, mold is also our greatest friend. A balance in all things."

The gallery is stunned into silence.

Indrid looks politely baffled but thanks him for his testimony, then looks grave.

"As we have eliminated the only other possibility...what remains must be the truth." She says, solemn. "It is as Mr. Arigah said; Mr. Urtyop could have been the only one to hack the nanomachines that night."

Artair shakes his head. "Nay, you've not proven that. What ye've proven is that we can say that your alleged suspect may have been the one to throw that phone into th' garbage. You've no evidence that was the item used to do your supposed 'hacking."

He taps a thick finger on the desk in front of himself for emphasis. "Can you rule out that this 'hack' was not done before the nanomachines were administered? Perhaps by any of the other people who visited the victim? A phone can be tossed out for any reason, including just because you feel like it."

Indrid sighs, but will concede he has a point. "Very well, Mr. Clonal. Yes, we can, as it counter to how they are designed.

They are preprogrammed with their commands if not being manipulated directly by miss Lovely or miss Wistim's psiionics, and as Mr. Urtyop himself attested to earlier when you questioned him, even their creators cannot alter them when they are inside a troll unless they are within range of them; it is not possible by normal methods."

She raises her eyebrows. "Who else do you think could have done it? One of the medical staff? They were the only ones who visited the patient." She asks him genuinely.

She hums. "As for your other question...true, a phone may be tossed out for any reason. But this phone is bare of any identifying features, stripped of all other information, in a distinctly suspicious manner. Miss Tynshu could attest to that, if you wish."

"So what, exactly, prevented someone using any other phone from doing it? As you suggest, any of the other staff that visited him could easily be a suspect," he sniffs, indifferent.

Indrid sighs. "Only those with sufficient knowledge of the nanites, Mr. Clonal."

"I don't need her to tell me what is obvious. Do you go around throwing out your old phones with personal information on them? I sure hope the galley tonight doesn't have any enterprising thieves in it, if so." He casts a glance at Halvir.

Indrid looks vaguely affronted. "I recycle all my phones, sir."

"Mister Urtyop, you stand here accused of an egregious crime. Not only does the defense allege that you played a part in the death of your patient, but they imply that you are a member of the Grey Mob. Do ye reject these accusations?"

Halvir nods. "Of course I do! What happened was a tragedy! I'm not a mobster, for god's sake, I wear my caste openly! I wouldn't attack my own patient!"

There's further muttering from the gallery, along with continued whispers about the Mob.

Someone receives a phone call and steps out of the room.

"Anyone can wear their caste openly." The indigo points out patiently. "Whoever did this, if it was not you, could have easily had the motive discussed by Mr. Arigah; miss Wistim's recorded testimony from her interrogation is evidence that Mr. Interg was investigating a counterfeit jean smuggling ring, and evidence of such was also among his personal effects.

If not you, Mr. Urtyop, then who do you think could have hacked the nanites and killed him?"

"Why am I being told to play detective? This is outrageous!" Halvir protests. "I'm not going to randomly accuse other staff members! I thought miss Wistim was better than this!"

The crowd again begins to murmur, with distrustful glances now being thrown towards the defenses section of the court.

"I don't know anything about hacking or what-have-you, the most programming I ever did was making some flash-based games when I was younger. Why am I getting thrown under the bus just for doing my job?"

Indrid remains as calm as ever.

"Because you were the last person with Mr. Interg, Mr. Urtyop, the one who threw away that phone, and because these nanites did not malfunction on their own." She says simply. "If the phone was not used for hacking, then why did you throw it away?"

"It was old?" he shrugged. "Did you see the thing? I finally upgraded the other day and decided my break was as good a time as any to toss it out."

Indrid raises her eyebrows. "You had no idea it was capable of hijacking the nanotech?"

"Why on Alternia would I ever think an old flip phone capable of doing that?"

"Yet miss Tynshu says it is fairly simple." Muses Indrid. "Even someone with a basic grasp of the principles involved could be capable of it. Since it was capable of doing such, who do you think programmed it to do so? Are you claiming that you are being framed?"

"You still haven't even proven that phone did anything," Halvir retorts, frowning. "I'd say it feels more like I'm being used as a scapegoat, if miss Wistim wants to duck responsibility for losing a patient."

That rebuke earns a few gasps in the crowd. Artair snorts in appreciation.

At that moment, there is a commotion by the doors. They suddenly spring open, a visibly worried legislacerator carrying a husktop with him. He hustles over to Artair and whispers something into his ear. Artair blinks, whispers something back, then shakes his head.

"Much as I hate t' interrupt the defense's flounderin', your honor, we have interestin' news."

"And that is?" the judge asks, leaning forward in his chair.

"We have a... ugh... surprise witness. The damned Grey Mob itself got wind of th' accusations being thrown about the defense, and now they're in an uproar."

The courtroom, to a troll, is stunned into a vast moment of silence.

He had forgotten - as this entire affair had made Ullane remember - that all things must be answered for.

#cloud writes #more to lose #indrid dynast #here it coooomes #my favorite part of the trial #almost to the very endgame #if the grey mob complaining seems weird to you: you're correct!

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shxtodxroki · 2 years ago

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Hello, are matchups still open? If they are, can I request one?

Here's my info:

Gender - Female

Sexuality - Heterosexual

Age - 18

MBTI - ISTJ

Appearance:

My height is 4'9" and I have round, brown eyes.

I have long, straight black hair and tan skin.

My face is round and small.

There are birthmarks (moles) on my legs; one on each leg.

Personality:

I would describe myself as funny, patient, sensitive.

I'm reserved and a hopeless romantic. Sometimes, I overthink or feel insecure.

To strangers, I seem cold or aloof.

My friends think I'm kind, smart, trustworthy.

Hobbies: drawing, playing video games, writing, listening to music, graphics design

Interests: books, art, music, poetry, folklore

Love language: acts of service

Few facts about me:

• Plushies are comfort objects to me.

• I have family problems with my parents.

Hi hi, thank you for sending in a match-up request! I’m sorry it took me a while to get to, but I hope you enjoy your match-up and thank you for being so polite and kind in his request! :D

I’d Match You With:

Mirio Togata! :)

Reasoning:

From your description of yourself, I feel like Mirio’s the kind of boyfriend who would fit perfectly into your life, the kind who would make your days brighter and be the kind of boyfriend you need by your side :)

Headcanons About Your Relationship:

- Mirio’s the perfect boyfriend for you if you consider yourself a hopeless romantic, because he’s huge on romantic gestures and displays of affection. He’s constantly trying to woo you and show you exactly how much he loves you no matter how long you’ve been dating, and he always makes sure you feel totally and utterly loved by him every second of the day <3

- Mirio loves playing video games with you! He’s not like, a pro or anything, but he likes gaming in his free time and he’s pretty decent at it! Whether he’s just watching you play, you’re watching him play because you’re too tired to join in, or you’re playing a co-op game together he’s happy, always cuddling into your side even when you’re playing together because he’s clingy like that lol

- Mirio knows that you like poetry, so on big days like your birthday or anniversary, he’ll write cute little poems for you detailing how much he loves you and how thankful he is to have you in his life <3 They’re not super scholarly or eloquent or anything like that, but they perfectly convey the way he feels about you and he puts his absolute heart and soul into each and every one of them in order to make sure you feel cared for and appreciated :)

- Mirio actually quite likes stuffed animals too, and he totally buys them for you all the time! You have a few that you keep at his place to cuddle with when you spend the night with him, and he even likes to buy matching plushies for the two of you, so you can think of him whenever you’re cuddling your plushies at home even if he’s not physically with you at the moment

- Once Mirio figures out your love language is acts of service, then he’s always taking care of you and doing small things to show you he cares. He’ll make you lunch in the mornings before you head off to school/work (and he always includes a cute little note), get some chores done for you if you tell him you’re exhausted and had a particularly rough day, and he’ll run a nice bubble bath for you and carefully wash your long hair for you once you get home from school/work in the evening <3

- He’ll never, ever push you to talk about your issues with your parents if you don’t feel comfortable discussing them, but he does make sure that he’s always there to listen if you need to vent to him. He supports you completely and hates how upset you can get when issues arise with your parents, and he’s happy to wrap you in his arms and comfort you whenever they make you upset

- He also thinks you’re hilarious, he really adopted Nighteye’s mindset that laughter is essential to a good life so he’s always cracking up at your jokes :) He literally makes you feel like the funniest person in the world, he always makes sure to tell you how funny a joke was or how hilarious the story you told him was

- Mirio’s kind of a sucker for kissing your birthmarks :) Whenever he sees them he immediately leans in to press a kiss to each one without hesitation, he just finds them really cute and happily takes any chance to kiss you :)

Song For Your Relationship:

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift!

#{💭} - bee answers #{💬} - requests #{🌻} - eudonyx #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x you #bnha x you #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #mha matchup #mha matchups #bnha matchups #{✏️} - bee's writing

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leam1983 · 6 months ago

Text

On Food and Love

Both the writer and the husband in this essay feel flawed; and she comes across as especially bitter. It's hard to imagine, that kind of persistent lack of validation, your significant other coming home and having the gall to not appreciate what you do. The thing is, when it comes to something as personal as cooking, not all of us have the same degree of sensitivity or receptivity.

The stereotype says that bringing notes to someone's offered dish is in poor taste, but I'm lucky in that Walt is a foodie and Sarah and I both love eating. We're nothing more than decent cooks, unlike Walt, but we know what we like, and we aren't afraid to tell him when something needs more of this or less of that. We've learned to package that info in a way that doesn't come across as offensive, in a way that says Thank you for what you put together for us. We're grateful; so grateful, in fact, that we want to help you improve this particular dish. If we didn't care, if we didn't like what's on offer, we wouldn't offer comments.

And Walter's took the hint. Whoops, are the household's québécois Millennials turning unusually mum at the table? That means we're deep in the task of processing what's in our plates so we can issue as constructive a critique as possible. The meal, in essence, is forcing us to look inward to figure it out. On the other hand, if we're regular Chatty Cathys and add in frequent reminders that this is actually awesome, then everything else is a matter of personal taste. If someone tells you "This is great, but I'd add sriracha in it next time!", then it should be seem as an open endorsement.

I can't imagine just giving a meal a note out of ten, just expecting it to be there. On the other hand, I don't think that making the kids weather the brunt of the essay's culinary burnout is fair. I get it, kids are picky eaters by default, so you might as well just pile their One Thing in front of them then go sit in front of the TV to decompress - but if that's your take on parenting following a divorce, I'm seriously concerned.

I don't like the tone of the assertion that she'll "never cook for a man again". I mean, I plied my mediocre culinary skills for Sarah when we first dated, and I also spent two years cooking Walt's morning sunny-side-up eggs! Gender shouldn't matter in the equation: if someone you meet is at the very least decent and you're stuck sharing some living space with them for a while, breaking out the pots and pans shouldn't be seen as an abdication of one's independence, but of your being willing to assist your co-lodgers, if you will, in basic survival.

You know how Boomers have jokes about wives worthy of being divorced? Well, there's also an infinity of bad comic strips about loutish husbands who manage to make a microwave leak water and to start a fire from a normal tap. It's the same discontent, really - the married life, amirite? chestnut that's there to make anyone over fifty laugh, pat their bellies and give their SOs cheezily affectionate looks.

Why not chase happiness? Why not eat food for its own sake - for your own sake?

Okay, fine, Mrs. Lenz - your husband sucked and you're free. Awesome. All that the essay tells me is that she's left him, but she hasn't really let go of him. From the perspective of mental and emotional wellness, her delivery just oozes lasting bitterness.

If I had her in front of me, I'd tell her to go watch Alvin Zhou bake a Beef Wellington on YouTube, over days of patient care and planning - not for some conjugal necessity, but to share the love with people who matter.

#thoughts #rant #food #I hate essays like this that feel like the OP is wallowing in their bitterness #Liz Lenz #Cooking #Alvin Zhou

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

Text

Love Again | PJM (Twelve)

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 15.6k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (????!!!!!????!!!!), soft, soft sex, mention of pot brownie, dirty talk, jimin says ‘little slut’ lol, lots of kissing, ew intimacy, creampie, mention of cum eating, implied oral (male rec.) everyone’s having sex dude, lots of drama, lots of unsaid feelings and everyone being an idiot!

Notes: sorry I took longer than usual! I hope you guys like this chapter:] thanks for being patient with me! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Love hearing from you guys<3 Send an ask if you want to be added to a tag list or just want to chat:)

Previously on…in chapter 11 of Love again, Namjoon has offered you a relationship! You meet with Jin and Justine to learn more about Lucy’s past. Tension (not the bad kind) keeps rising with Jimin. You and Naomi meet with Lucy and learn the truth. Everyone’s busy for the weekend: Jeremy with dates, Naomi with friends, Hobi fake dating Dae for a work party but you and Jimin decide to eat a ‘special’ brownie and uh oh, you had sex.

Previous---Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This might be one of the more awkward outings you have been a part of in a while—or ever. The atmosphere feels a little bit tense, so many pairs of eyes roaming around, never meeting one another. Something is obviously going on between like, everyone. But the only person who seems to be free, lively and so freaking oblivious is Taehyung. Bless Taehyung and his inability to read the room right now as he drunkenly declares you should all take shots. Again.

“Taehyung, you’re already shit faced, dude.” You reach for your water, “You realize if you take another shot you are absolutely going to throw up?”

“Eh, let him.” Dae shrugs from beside you, “He stole my chips the trip here and ate them all so this is kind of his karma, I’d like to believe.”

“You want your brother to puke because he…ate your chips?” Hoseok raises a brow, “You truly are something.”

“That feels valid actually” You begin to agree, finally gulping back some of the water.

“Of course you would be the first to agree with that.” Hoseok shakes his head, “The women I surround myself with…”

“Oh?” Dae looks a bit blank as she glances at Hoseok. “Am I woman you surround yourself—"

“Oh come on!” Taehyung drags out his words with an adorable slur, “Jeremy? I know you won’t let me drink alone right?”

“I’ll take a shot if my brothers take a shot too.” Jeremy grins at Hoseok and Jimin. “Forget the girls we don’t need them to have a good time.”

“We’re literally right here?” Naomi grumbles on the other side of Dae. “We should have gotten our own table at this point.”

“Ever since their weird ass boys thing—”

“Weird?!” Taehyung scoffs, but his own grin starts to show itself. “You’re all just jealous.”

“Totally. That’s what it is.” You comment with a straight face, “Anyway—”

“Are you…Taehyung, by chance?” A feminine voice cuts in, you all look in Taehyung’s direction when you see a girl standing next to him with her hand on his shoulder. “You probably don’t remember me but I’m pretty sure we went to college together.”

“Aeri?” Taehyung tilts his head, “Like, the girl who hooked up with Jungkook one time in my apartment bathroom?”

“Oh!” The girl lights up, “So you do remember me!”

Well, that’s one way to remember someone, you think.

“Yeah!” Taehyung’s grin widens, “You look kind of different though?”

“I think my hair was dark and short when you last saw me.” Aeri returns his smile with her own, her hand finally leaving his shoulder. “Which was so many years ago.” She giggles, stumbling a little bit in her spot. She looks drunk too.

“No, that’s not it.” Taehyung waves her off, shaking his head slightly as he tries to think. “Oh! Last time I saw you was literally in the bathroom when you and Jungkook were…you know,” He winks now. “The thing that’s different is…clothes.” He says with a blank face while gesturing towards her and she widens her eyes before she laughs loudly.

“Oh yeah! You did walk in on us!”

“Does Taehyung just walk in on everyone having sex?” Hoseok laughs, shooting you a look when you glare at him. “I wonder if this chick stopped though unlike…” He trails off with a smirk, his hands motioning between you and Jimin. You want to kill him.

“So how have you been?” Aeri slurs a little as she chats with Taehyung, “Are you still living here?”

“Nah, nah, nah.” Taehyung glances at the rest of you, “Just visiting my friends!”

“Oh!” Aeri looks at you all now, smiling at everyone as she offers a greeting. “I know, I saw you from across the bar. You are like me!” She starts giggling cutely, hand back on his shoulder. “Fifth wheeling as the only single one in the group. That’s why I wanted to come say hi.”

“Only…single?” Taehyung asks, confusion growing as he eyes you all. “Oh.” He sings out, “No, no! We’re all single actually. Trust me, no one in this group is gettin’ any.” He starts chuckling to himself.

Aeri looks like the one who is confused now. “Really? Oh. I was so sure…” Her eyes find yours, “These two.” She points at you and at Jimin who sits across from you. “They’re a couple. And those two,” She points at Dae and Hoseok who sits across from her now. “They’re definitely a couple.” Now she points at Naomi and Jeremy, “And these two as well.”

“HA!” Naomi rolls her eyes, “Never in a fucking million years.”

“Yeah, that’s got to be the joke of the fucking century. Right, Naomi?” Jeremy spits back with a smile.

“I still don’t get what is up with them.” You say towards Hoseok and he nods. “But you’re wrong.” You say to Aeri before your eyes try to find Jimin’s but he avoids your gaze. Instead he reaches for his drink and takes a few sips, not even flinching as the alcohol runs down his throat, no doubt leaving a burn along the way.

“No, I’m not.” Aeri drunkenly laughs, “I’m never wrong about these things.”

“Trust me, no one is gettin’ any.” Taehyung snorts. “y/n over here basically has a whole ass boyfriend and isn’t even gettin’ any.”

Your insides start to twist at this mention but you try not to show it on your face.

Taehyung and Aeri are giggling when Taehyung lifts his drink and says, “Watch this! Hey everyone,” He looks at all of you with a confident smile. “Take a drink if you haven’t gotten laid in a while.” He wiggles his brows, even giving Aeri a cocky wink as he waits for you all to drink. But when Taehyung doesn’t see any hands reaching for drinks his cocky grin begins to falter. Aeri shrugs, her own cockiness showing now as she looks at him like it’s obvious.

“Uh…” Taehyung begins lowering his drink. “Okay….” He mumbles unsure, “Take a drink if you…have…? Like, have gotten laid recently…?”

Well, you and Jimin agreed you wouldn’t lie to anyone if the question was asked. And Taehyung kind of sort of has the exact question hanging in the air, waiting for an answer. You are the first to wrap your fingers around the glass that holds your mixed drink. You don’t look at anyone else as you bring it to your lips and take a sip. When you finally lift your eyes, they find Jimin who sits across from you and you see he is taking a sip of his drink as well. And then the dramatic ass gasp that leaves Taehyung’s lips can be heard and you glance around the table to see Hoseok and Dae have lifted their glasses as well as they drink back some of their alcohol…well, you knew about that already. But what surprises you is that Jeremy and Naomi are also sipping from their glasses.

“What?” Taehyung searches everyone’s eyes for answers. “You all…? Huh? Okay, okay.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he thinks for a moment. “How recent?” He looks at everyone again. No one says anything. “Okay…take a drink if it was like, a day ago.”

No one drinks and Taehyung sighs in relief but he notices everyone looks weird as hell so he continues. “Okay…take a drink if it was one week…?”

And then he dramatically gasps again as everyone awkwardly lifts their glasses, all eyes everywhere but each other. But then everyone does get a look at the other when too many pairs of eyes start widening. Taehyung points at his sister first, you are pointing at Naomi and Jeremy is pointing at Hoseok. Everyone’s looking real confused.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!!!” Taehyung stands from his bar stool now, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Yes, Taehyung, you think. What the fuck does it mean?

One week ago

The way Jimin’s lips rub against yours as his hips roll into you makes you feel the sort of intimacy that terrifies you but in this moment there is nothing scary…just you and Jimin and this dreamy connection that makes your body feel like it’s floating.

You want to blame the brownie for this feeling but that high has already began to fade…only Jimin in your system at this point. And he didn’t lie. He is fucking you exactly how he said he would…he is fucking you the way you agreed, the way you chanted ‘yes’ over and over before you two even left for your bedroom. His words to you, his horrible, tragic, beautiful, dangerous and exceptional words that he whispered towards you on your couch.

“You want to get fucked y/n? You want me to fuck you? Me, right? You want me to fuck you like you’re my little slut? Fucked like you never been fucked before? Maybe you need me to fuck you like I’ve always fucked you, huh? You need to get fucked like someone is so, so in love with you? That the kind of fucking you need, babe? Need me to fuck you as if I was so, so in love with you? You want to get fucked like that?”

You never said yes a million times as fast as that. And he didn’t lie…he is fucking you exactly like that. He said ‘as if I was’ but if you are honest…the way he is fucking you, you might believe it if he told you he was still in love with you.

That is a ridiculous thought, you know. But every time his length slides in and out of you, hips rolling and eyes staying on yours…you feel that euphoria of being fucked in a way that feels like it is love. He’s just that good, you think.

You’re both panting, lips connecting every few moments to kiss—kisses that are so slow and deep, tongues taking their time and your bottom lip getting pulled lightly between his teeth. Your fingers caress his cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours, soaking in every light touch your fingers give his skin—eyes closing in satisfaction because your touch is just pure magic.

“I’m…” Jimin pauses, groaning in your mouth as he speeds up, thrusting just a little harder. “I’m going to come soon, babe.”

“Yeah?” You moan when his thumb makes contact with your clit, he puts just the right amount of pressure, circling it expertly.

“Mhm.” He nips at your lip, “Where do…” He releases a long breath, hips slamming into you just a bit harder. “Where should I…fuck, y/n, where should I—”

“We both know.” You whine. His thumb circles your clit faster, you feel your body start to tense, back arching as you prepare for what is to come.

Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at what you are insinuating, satisfied with your response but he still prolongs his orgasm to ask you again. “Where baby?”

“Jimin…” You mewl, your orgasm already on the brink of arrival…”Please.”

Before you and Jimin started to have sex again, he discarded the first condom…it was full of his cum already and was uncomfortable but you were quick to guide his member back to your hole that needed to be filled. He didn’t object at the idea of fucking you raw…

“You want me to fill you with my cum, hm?” He starts picking up his pace again, his face right over yours, noses brushing and lips rubbing against each other so messily. “You need that?”

“Jimin.” Your mouth hangs open, body tensing intensely as you feel this build up start to overwhelm you. “I’m going to…” You can’t even finish that sentence when his thumb works harder and his cock hits a certain spot inside you that feels almost heavenly.

“Come for me babe.” He groans again. “Come for me, come for me like you always have.”

His words and everything else are enough to make you feel the kind of warmth that a long, intense, drawn out orgasm could give. You walls start squeezing around him so tightly and he is losing his mind over you. You, how you feel, how you look, everything.

“I’m going to…” His strokes don’t stop, regardless that he is about to come…his lips part when short, rapid breaths escape him. The moans he starts letting out as his cum shoots from the head of his cock and into the deepest parts of your core are so sinful. He doesn’t still his hips, he keeps fucking you but much more slowly, he pushes through to keep your orgasms intense and long. You might even come again when he whimpers—yes, whimpers at the feeling of fucking his cum into you.

You’re both feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated but his hips rolls into you a few more times, his cries of pleasure keeping you from stopping him. One more pump, then another before Jimin is finally stilling himself. Quick breaths hitting your lips as your own chest heaves. Jimin’s thumb leaves you when he raises it to his lips and sucks on it before taking your face with his hand, cupping it gently and leaning in for more slow kisses.

You kiss him back, lips moving over his as your hand reaches between your bodies and you carefully help him pull his cock out of you. Moaning into each other’s mouths when he’s finally no longer inside you and with his lips still connected to yours, he rolls over so you are laying side by side, still making out.

The room is hot, bodies sweaty, your skin sticking to his so easily. You can’t even process how you definitely need to replace these sheets before bed because his lips are still on yours and they are so addicting. You’ve never felt more obsessed with a pair of lips than this moment. It’s almost as if neither of you are prepared for this moment to end—for this night to end. Almost like if you two never stop then you don’t have to ever face the reality…maybe tomorrow will never arrive.

The kisses are slow and lazy and it sucks when you two finally pull away, foreheads resting against each other, soft breaths mingling. Jimin eyes you carefully, tenderly and you gaze back, both of you trying to communicate without saying words.

But words need to be said.

“Wow.” Jimin sighs out, “That was…” His voice gets a little quieter before a small smile pulls at his lips. “You’re very amazing.”

You crack a smile, “How amazing?”

“Most amazing.” Jimin quietly chuckles, leans in again to peck your lips. “What we just did…what we shared with one another just now…that’s rare.” He tells you, voice soft and almost careful.

“Rare?” You ask and he only hums in response. You don’t pry for an explanation and he doesn’t give one. Because you both know what he means. What you two just shared…the closeness, the connection, the intimacy…that is rare.

You and Jimin clean up, change the sheets and put on some clothes to sleep. Even though you are both more sober now and you two have officially pulled away to do other things, the atmosphere in the room has not changed. The night is still this night. Tomorrow is not here yet and no thought comforts either of you more.

You settle into your bed, blanket pulled up to your nose when Jimin slides in the sheets to lay next to you. It’s almost automatic how you scoot closer to him and he’s already welcoming you to lay your head on his chest. His arm wraps over you, stroking your arm softly. It is automatic when you nuzzle your face into his bare chest, inhaling his scent and listening closely for his heartbeat.

There is no feeling quite like this. There might not even be a feeling that can top this. This is a feeling you want to drown in. This is a feeling you want to kill you. You’d be fine, dying in this feeling because it means it’s the last thing you ever felt and you will leave this life and enter the next one with this feeling. This fucking feeling.

Even still, you are careful. Even with this feeling… you are careful. Careful because you have to be. Careful because you won’t be dying in this feeling…you will wake up tomorrow and this feeling is not allowed. So many words that could be said…between you and Jimin, there are millions of words that could stroke this feeling into something even more. But that is dangerous. So, you are careful. And so is he.

Nothing is said for a long while…you think over an hour has passed by and you believe Jimin must be fast asleep. You on the other hand…you are witnessing the night end and tomorrow arriving. And because of a fact so simple as that…the thoughts of reality are starting to settle in your messy little mind.

You aren’t even sure what to make of this entire night. What could it even mean? If it even means anything at all. Exes fall into each other’s beds all the time! This is not some rare instance…this is not some crazy thing that never happens. You know that, you get that. Feeling familiar with someone can be so, so dangerous. You are learning that. But that doesn’t always mean something deep. You know that too, you get that too. This is probably—

“Can’t sleep?” Jimin’s raspy voice slightly startles you, “Sorry.” He chuckles quietly. “I can tell you’re still awake.” He tells you, taking a pause before continuing. “Are you overthinking everything like me?”

You let silence linger for a moment before snuggling closer to him, “You know,” You whisper out, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m supposed to give Namjoon an answer about me and him…I should be thinking about that. I should be having a lot of thoughts about that. But I’m here having no thoughts about it because I think you fucked those thoughts out of my head.” You scoff quietly at yourself. “Instead I am thinking about how tonight you gave me the best orgasms I have ever had in my life.”

“In your life?” Jimin asks, trying to stop his lips from curving into some sort of satisfied smile.

“Yeah.” You hum, “I mean, don’t get me wrong…in the past you also gave me great orgasms but this was…I don’t know. I’m sure the last time we had sex I came hard too but this—”

“The last time…? The last time we had sex…?” Jimin’s soft voice is hushed. “y/n…do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

“We didn’t come last time. The morning of my flight. We had sex but neither of us came.” He tells you, “We uh, we never got that far.”

“Oh.” You blink, “That sounds like it sucks, sorry. No wonder you cried.” You can’t help but chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No. It was amazing.” He tells you quickly, “It was emotional, yeah…but even though I didn’t finish…I had never felt more satisfied at that time in my life. I just wanted to be close to you, y/n. As close as physically and emotionally as possible.” He nuzzles his face into the top of your head. “I felt so connected to you…that even in those moments of pleasure, even without climaxing, I felt so fucking good. And maybe it was just me…”

“What?”

“I didn’t even feel like I needed to finish…just having that connection with you…I felt like I was at the edge already, the edge of the Earth. And I jumped. I jumped and I drowned in you. You drowned me, y/n. Drowned me in every bit of love your body and soul could give me. It was one of the most powerful things I’ve experienced and yeah, I cried.” He chuckles, “I cried because I knew I would never have that again.”

“Oh.”

“And when we decided to stop…and I left your body I don’t think I had ever felt more empty.”

You’re quiet. His words finding a spot in your mind, making themselves at home as you decide they are allowed to live there forever. You release a breath before finally deciding to respond. “Well,” You lift your head to look at him, the room just light enough from the almost rising sun that you two can lock eyes. He gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. “…I mean, technically wouldn’t it have been me who felt empty? You know,” you gesture towards your lady bits, “Since—”

Jimin snorts, laughing at your smart ass mouth and squeezing you to his body. “Yeah, yeah.”

Your face breaks into a small grin, “But uh, that was um, pretty.”

“Pretty?” Jimin quirks a brow. “What was?”

“Your words. Like poetry. Your words are pretty. Just like you.”

Jimin can’t help but lean more into the pillow and smile up at the ceiling now. “Pretty like the moon?”

“Like the moon.” You tell him, “But Jimin.” You glance over at the window, “The moon is no longer in the sky…and the sun is starting to take its place. A new day is arriving and…”

Jimin squeezes you even tighter towards him when he sighs out. “I know.” He whispers. “A new day means this day is over. And…”

“And the day that is over can’t bleed into tomorrow.” You finish for him. “You know?”

“I know.” Jimin sighs again, “But…can we pretend the sun doesn’t control our day? Just for now. Can we live in this night until we wake up and it is actually tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” You lay your head back down on his chest, “We can do that.”

It’s after 1pm when you and Jimin finally wake up. It’s not necessarily awkward but there is an understanding between you both…and understanding that last night’s events were exactly that—last night’s events—and nothing more. You have reasons and he has reasons and neither of you really speak on those reasons but you both know they’re there and you both have them and that has to be enough.

“Okay, I’ll get going.” Jimin starts gathering his things and makes his way towards your door to slide on his shoes. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He smiles at you and his smile is making this weird, dangerous warmth start heating up your body. But you can’t show any sign that this heat is creeping up your neck, onto your cheeks and so on.

“Yeah. Get home safe.” You return his smile, a smile so calm and careful.

“I will.” Jimin nods at you, “See you.”

And he is opening the door, turning his head to steal one last glance at you before walking through and closing the door behind him.

Your eyes stay on your white wood door for a few seconds, your calm and careful smile still on your face when you finally release a long, long breath that you had been holding and your smile drops completely. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. That’s the only real words in your mind right now.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” And the only real words you’re even able to mutter at the moment. You blink repeatedly, eyes still on your door as the reality hits you hard. Oh fucking shit, you think. You finally turn towards the inside of your home and your legs are moving on their own as you start searching for your phone. You finally find the device stuck between the couch cushions and you are scrambling to unlock it and call the person you need to freaking call. Your one and only, your best friend.

You wait on the line as it rings and rings and finally Hoseok answers.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok!” You screech into the phone.

“Hi.” He sings, “Wait, hold on.” He tells you and you try to wait as patiently as possible. “Hey…Taehyung just got here. Me, him and Dae are going to grab some lunch before we get ready for Dae’s work party tonight. Can I call you later?”

“Oh my god.” You groan, “You being busy is ruining my life!”

“Dramatic as always. What’s up? What happened?”

“Nothing. Just call me later, okay? When do you get home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon!”

“Oh my god, just…” You groan again. “Whatever. Tell them I say hi. Have fun tonight, love you.”

“Will do. Love you with all my heart. See ya!” And then he’s quickly hanging up and leaving you to think about this all by yourself.

It’s almost noon on Sunday now and you aren’t sure if Hoseok is home yet but you need to talk to him. Even if he’s still driving and it’s just over the phone. You’re desperate at this point. You’re sitting at your kitchen island, phone in your hands as you click on the screen to call him. This dude answers on the first ring.

“Hoseok!—”

“—y/n!”

You both yell at the same time, and neither of you waste another second or even wait for the other to just respond before you’re both yelling again.

“Code Red!” You shout in unison.

“What?” You ask, puzzled. “You’re Code Red?”

“You’re Code Red?” He asks on the other line. “Why are you Code Red?”

“No, why are you Code Red?”

“Holy fuck, why are we both—”

“Come over dude. I just got home, this is an emergency!” Hoseok shouts, “Fucking Code Red bro.”

“Trust me, I know it’s a fucking emergency dude!”

“Hurry up.”

You and Hoseok sit at his dining room table, looking and feeling antsy as hell. Legs shaking up and down, throats feeling dry, eyes boring into the other.

“You go first.” You look at Hoseok anxiously and he shakes his head quickly and motions for you to go first. “Okay.” You nod, “Let’s just go at the same time. Let’s just say whatever it is.” Hoseok nods now too, agreeing right away with the plan. “Okay, count of three. One…two…THREE!”

“I had sex with—”

“I had sex with—” You both shout but stop as soon as you both realize what you guys are saying.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Your eyes go wide. “Who the hell did you have sex with?”

Hoseok gives you an unimpressed look, “Oh come on, y/n. Who the hell do you think it was?!”

“Fair. But what?! How!? How did that…? You guys fucked for real?! You and…Dae?!”

Hoseok shudders just at the mention of her name, “I don’t know how it happened!” He groans into his hands, “We just…I don’t know!” He yells out.

“Were you guys like, really drunk at the party?!”

“Holy fuck this just keeps getting worse.” Hoseok’s lips set into a line. “We were fucking sober.”

“Oh my god…” You can’t help but snort. “Come on Hobi…is this really such a surprise?”

“YES?” He looks at you incredulously. “She is my frenemy!”

“But you guys have fucked before!” “Because…because we had to!”

“…Had to?” You look at him with a straight face.

“Trust me, y/n. We had so much tension back then! After she beat me at the competition it only made sense that I fuck her?!?????”

“Oh my god…” You start laughing, “You’re so ridiculous. So what? She humiliated you again?? You had to what? Punish—” You can’t even finish that because you’re laughing harder now.

“Ha-Ha!” Hoseok rolls his eyes and once you stop laughing Hoseok continues, voice a little quieter. “I was pretending to be her boyfriend, remember? Well, I don’t know, it felt nice…all the small things.” He mumbles with a pout. “And then she mentioned she felt like no one really believed us so I kissed her—”

“Of course you did.” You giggle, “Classic. What movie is this?”

“Shut up.” Hoseok deadpans. “Anyway, we left and then yeah, we had sex.”

“And that’s Code Red?”

“It’s Code Red because I woke up early and bolted.” He says with a straight face and your jaw drops.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“You are dumb as hell.” You say with an equally straight face.

“She texted me and I tried explaining it was a mistake and you know, whatever, whatever.”

“Do you think it was a mistake?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, “I’m so…I really don’t know!”

“Damn…”

“But anyway, I had sex with Dae but who the hell did you have sex with? That’s the real fucking question.”

Suddenly you’re quiet. Hoseok narrows his eyes at you and he tries studying your expression, doing his best to figure it out. “Okay…it can’t be Namjoon. No, because that wouldn’t be Code Red…you have been expecting to have sex with him so who…” Then his eyes are widening and his mouth opens and a dumb ass smile starts forming. “Oh my god.” He points at you. Fucking accusing you…”You fucked Jimin.” He says matter of fact.

Your eyes get just as wide as he assumes correctly. You still don’t say anything and he’s losing it.

“You totally…oh my god, you fucked Jimin!” He’s still pointing at you, stupid ass grin on his face because he knows he is right. You continue to look shocked before you drop your head to the dining table before groaning and dramatically crying out.

“Oh my god…” You whine, “I totally fucked Jimin.”

“Holy shit!” Hoseok still hasn’t closed his mouth, he’s…surprised but not surprised but like super surprised but also not. “Oh my god. You fucked Jimin, dude.”

“I fucked Jimin, dude.” You start banging your head on the table. “I’m a Jimin fucker.”

Finally, Hoseok closes his mouth and scrunches his brows together. “For some reason I don’t like the way that sounds so let’s not say it that way again.” Then he breathes out, “But still…you fucked Jimin. This is crazy.”

You finally lift your head, eyes beginning to pool with worry. “It is crazy.”

Hoseok notices you look a little off now as you stare at him and he softens, “Is it?”

“Yes.” You tell him simply, voice unsure. “It’s crazy for multiple reasons. And I feel like I don’t even have to tell you all the reasons because you can probably guess. And realistically you could probably come up with even more reasons than me.”

“Should I start listing some?” He lightly teases but you frown at him. “Oh come on, you fucked your ex who you are like, really close with. Are you surprised?”

“Yes?” You slump your shoulders, “But like, no?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok offers a half smile. “You guys are…well, you’re really close. Anyone can see that and sure, it could be totally platonic. I think you two might really be capable of that. But I also understand there is a long history there. And there’s probably so many things between you both no one else would even begin to understand—”

“Maybe Taehyung.” You blink at Hoseok and he snorts.

“Okay, maybe Taehyung.” He laughs, his head shaking before he continues. “If I’m being honest with you, y/n. I know he broke your heart and I know I don’t know the full story. I don’t know everything and I don’t know his side. And he’s my friend…and even if he wasn’t…it’s probably not fair to judge an entire situation without knowing all the sides, right?”

“You hated him before.” You deadpan.

“That was a few months ago…I’ve…” He starts nodding, eyes glancing up as he thinks. “…Matured?” He decides to go with that. “Anyway, regardless of what happened…you’re both in each other’s lives now, right? You’re close. You enjoy one another. Yada, Yada. Look, it’s not that big of a deal that you two had sex—”

“It was the intimate kind.” You let the words slip out quickly.

“Oh?” Hoseok raises a brow, “Like��how intimate?”

“Like, it felt like love, intimate.” You blurt but then try to recover, “I mean…I know it wasn’t that but I’m just saying that what it felt like.”

Hoseok lips part slightly as he realizes what you are saying. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” You swallow, “I’m not saying we…it’s just…that’s the kind of sex we had.”

“Well,” Hoseok glances around trying to think of what to say next to try his best to comfort you, you’re sure but when his eyes start to expand you realize he is finally putting together some other important pieces here. “Wait.”

“Yup.” You blurt blandly.

“What about Namjoon?” He asks, eyes still wide.

“Exactly.” You frown, “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. What about Namjoon…”

Hoseok stands from his chair abruptly, your eyes following him as he gives you a nod and he heads towards his kitchen, pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“We’re drinking?”

“When we’re both in a Code Red situation, drinking seems completely appropriate.”

“That…yeah, that checks out.” You stand as well and meet him in the kitchen, watching him open the wine bottle and fill both of your glasses to the absolute brim.

“So,” He hands you your glass. “What are you going to do about Namjoon? I mean, did you have sex with Jimin because you guys are in love or like, did you two fuck because well, fucking your ex is easy?”

“Holy shit.” You murmur, bringing the glass to your lips as you suck up some of the wine that is close to spilling over.

“Yeah, holy shit is right, sister.”

“We…we aren’t in love. But I think it would also be the easy way out to say we just had sex because it was an easy option.”

“How do you know you aren’t in love?” Hoseok softens even more, his tone careful with you.

“Trust me, if we were in love…wouldn’t we be together right now? Wouldn’t the sex maybe would have set off the type of chain of events where we aren’t pretending it didn’t happen?”

“Is…” Hoseok nibbles on his lip. “Don’t tell me you two are pretending…oh, that doesn’t seem like you two.”

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not necessarily like pretending like totally avoiding and shit, but more like…it happened but it won’t happen again. We both get that.”

“But why?”

“Be-because? First, I owe Namjoon a fucking answer and probably the truth. And second…I don’t know.”

“You said the sex would have maybe set off a chain events where you two would want to be together again, right? But it didn’t? Did you ever think it’s because it just isn’t that simple, y/n? If it was that simple…then I feel like your actual relationship and dynamic has no depth. But because it’s more complex,” Hoseok picks up his own wine glass, stares at the liquid and sighs out heavily before continuing. “Well, I think it just proves how real it is.”

You stare at your best friend, mind beginning to race with thoughts you don’t even want to think about but maybe saying them out loud is a good way to ease your own mind.

“You’re right.” Your eyes fall to the counter top, “It is complex. He broke my heart, sure. But I’m not the only one who needs to work through things. He has stuff too.” A small smile creeps on your lips, “I could shove down my own problems and new insecurities to start new—whoever that may be with—but I could never expect him…especially at this point in time, to just get over his own trauma.”

“Trauma?” Hoseok pulls his brows together. “What do you mean?”

“Right.” You gulp. Eyes lifting back to meet his, “I can’t share it because I don’t know how comfortable Jimin would be with it but yeah, he just…he has things and anyway, it is complex.”

“I’m not sure my situation is even complex.” Hoseok chuckles. “I’m just a chicken.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You wink, taking a sip of your wine and Hoseok flips you off.

“I’m just…I’m wanting the right one, you know? But it’s come to my attention I don’t know who that is and maybe I do. But how do I really know? And I don’t know. I’m stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid. You’re like every other human being on this planet. Scared.”

“But what am I scared of?”

“Love?” You shrug.

“No, love is this amazing thing!”

“Love is an amazing thing but when there’s good there’s bad!” You throw back at him. “And no one prepares their heart for the bad. Trust me.”

“Or” Hoseok sets his wine down, his eyes finding yours and you can see how the dark browns swirling around also swirl with sincerity. “We do prepare for the bad but we don’t like how it feels to imagine that and that’s why we’re scared. Because maybe we’ve gotten a taste and decided you know what? Is the good worth all this bad again?”

“Well,” You set your glass down as well. “Then I guess all I can say is…being human sucks.”

~~~~~

Monday morning and you are at the office much earlier than usual. Hoseok walks in some time after you and eyes you strangely as he sets up his desk.

“If you tell me you have not even slept…I swear—”

“Does 40 minutes count?” You cut him off, eyes on your screen. “Because if it does then I totally slept.”

“For your sake I’ll just agree that it counts.” Hoseok shakes his head before sitting down.

“And for your sake I doubled the amount.” You mumble to yourself, eyes still on your screen as you try to convert this document. “So,” You click the mouse repeatedly, and…annoyingly. “Namjoon is out of town this week so I will have to live with my sins a little longer.”

Hoseok glances over at you, pity smile on his lips. “Maybe that’s good? Gives you more time to think.”

“Thinking is literally the last thing I want to—”

“Sup guys.” Jeremy comes towards you both, stopping at his desk to set his coffee down. “Is uh, is Naomi here yet?”

You just continue to look at your screen, clicking your mouse as you shake your head.

Jeremy releases a long breath before adjusting his jacket, “Okay. Cool, cool.” He finally takes his seat.

“Why?” Hoseok turns in his chair to face Jeremy, “Need her for some—”

“Nope. No. No. Nah.” Jeremy shakes his head with his hands waving in front of him. “Just wondering. Yup, just having uh, wonders. It was…I was just…wonder—anyway, uh, have you guys umm, talked to her? Like over the weekend?”

You continue to stare at your screen, mouse clicking and you shake your head…again.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Okay, cool, cool.” Jeremy nods along, hands still adjusting his jacket.

“O…kay.” Hoseok gives Jeremy a confused look before turning in his chair to face you again. “Jeremy is being weird, y/n.”

“Jeremy is always weird, Hoseok.” You say, eyes probably straining thanks to the screen.

“No. Just look at him.” Hoseok whispers and you finally tear your eyes away, glancing in their direction when you snort.

“What…what are you wearing?” You raise a brow at Jeremy.

“What?” Jeremy starts to feel antsy. “Is it weird? It’s weird right. The jacket? Is it too much?”

“Uh, it’s not that. Just…why?” You look at Hoseok and he shrugs, holding in his own laugh.

“I can’t look nice?” Jeremy decides to act sassy. “You’re a slob half the time but I don’t try to make you feel weird when you wear a skirt!” “Jeez.” You raise your hands in surrender, stifling your own laughter as well. “Fair point.”

“Hello friends!” Naomi’s voice can be heard, your turn your head to get a look at her when she walks towards you guys, her curls bouncing cutely above her shoulders. “Morning.” She says…only to you and Hoseok. “Love seeing my friends here.”

“Yeah, hi.” You eye her over…she usually does look decently nice for work but this is…”You look pretty…is there an occasion? Are you and Jeremy going somewhere after working or something?”

“HA!” Naomi giggles, almost forced when she grins wide before spinning on her heels to face Jeremy. “Well, hello, Jeremiah.”

“Naomi-iah.” He stands from his chair, hands still freaking adjusting the jacket.

“That’s like…neither of their names, right?” Hoseok whispers towards you and you shake your head before continuing to watch this weird ass interaction.

“Love coming to work to see my friends! Even you! Wow, especially you! Right? My friend?” Naomi flutters her lashes as she always does, smile still wide while Jeremy nods enthusiastically.

“Of course! Because I’m your friend. And uh, well, you’re my friend.” Then his head bobs around as he looks at you and Hoseok too. “We are all friends! Love being friends. I love having friends. Friends are so cool—”

“Exactly. You just love your friends so much!” Naomi starts laughing, “You are like, friend of the year.”

“I sure am. But uh, y/n is right! You look nice!” He forces a grin.

“Wow, thank you!” Naomi continues to smile, lashes still fluttering. “And you look…” She eyes him up and down, smile still in place when she blinks awkwardly. “…weird.”

“I-I-I-“

“Well,” Naomi smiles even wider, “Got to get to work, am I right, friends?” And then she walks off to her desk as Jeremy mumbles to himself, eyeing over his outfit.

“Weird.” You mouth at Hoseok and he shrugs.

Tuesday evening when you hear from Jimin for the first time since you saw him last. The texts are pretty awkward but at least he’s texting you.

Jimin 7:03pm

So have u eaten

y/n 7:10pm

yeah I have

Jimin 7:10pm

Oh ok

y/n 7:12pm

have you

Jimin 7:12pm

Uhhhhh not yet but I guess I should lol

y/n 7:12pm

I have leftovers if you want them

Jimin 7:13pm

Youre invited me over?

y/n 7:13pm

seems like it right

Jimin 7:15pm

Right

y/n 7:18pm

come on jimin just come over

Jimin 7:20pm

Its to talk about things isn’t it lol

y/n 7:22pm

you don’t think we should?

Jimin 7:23pm

No I definitely think we should

y/n 7:23pm

alright then come

Jimin 7:38pm

On my way

“This is pretty good.” Jimin says with his mouth full, the last bite finally conquered as he finishes the left overs you offered him.

“I know, right?” You smile, “It’s new. Opened up like less than two years ago.”

Jimin stands from the island and throws away his container and goes to the sink to wash his hands. “Didn’t you have a rule about trying to eat home cooked meals on week days?”

“Well,” You laugh, “Things change!”

“Yeah.” Jimin dries his hands on the towelette before turning to you. “I guess they do…so, should we go into the living room?” He gestures towards the area of your sofa and you nod, standing from your chair and heading in that direction. Jimin follows, deciding not to sit too far from you so it doesn’t seem like he is being awkward and purposely staying away…but maybe he is sitting too close. Not even a foot of space between you both but nothing is said about it.

“So.” Jimin stares ahead, eyes on your black TV screen.

“So.” You decide to follow his gaze, the black TV screen looking so entertaining. “Um.”

“Um.” He copies.

You release a breath before laughing to yourself, eyes falling to your lap now. “We are usually so good at talking and being open…why are we being so awkward?” “So awkward, right?” Jimin laughs too, his head titling in your direction. “Let’s just say it. We had sex. And we want to discuss it. But are we discussing it like how it went?” He cracks a smile, “Or discussing what it meant? Why did we do that? What we should do now?”

“All of the above?” You lean back into the sofa cushion, small smile as well. “First, I think we can both admit sex between us has always been great so no surprise there.”

“That’s true.” Jimin hums. “It felt natural being with you but there was also something about it that felt so…thrilling. It felt brand new while also feeling like ho—well, I don’t know.” Jimin finishes timidly.

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” You gulp, both knowing. “So…why did we do that?”

“You’re skipping over ‘what it meant’ already?” Jimin teases, “But uh, it would be bad to blame the brownie, right?” He chuckles, relaxing his shoulders some as he leans back on the couch as well. “Because even I know that even if the brownie was not a part of the equation…” “What?”

“It was going to happen regardless.” Jimin tells you simply. “At least I would have wanted it to.”

You sigh out, eyes going to the ceiling. Yeah, you believe that actually. “Are you saying it was a matter of time?” You turn your head towards Jimin, crooked smile on your face. “That because everything is so familiar with me that we were bound to hook up?”

“Familiar? You think I only wanted to fuck you because it was familiar, y/n?” Jimin turns his head to face you as well. “I fucked you because I am very attracted to you and we have great chemistry.” He shrugs his shoulders, head facing forward again. “I fucked you because you’re you.”

“Oh.”

“Did you only have sex with me because I’m your ex and it seemed familiar?” Jimin asks you, voice quieter.

“It makes things easier.” You respond. Jimin turns his head towards you again, eyes finding yours before he narrows them, not really believing your answer.

“But no,” You sigh out, “I guess not. Your reasons seem relatable.”

“Hmm.” Jimin continues to gaze at you, “You can be honest y/n. If you only wanted me that night because you were just…in the mood for something like that…and I was an easy option—”

“No!” You lift your head and lean towards him, “That’s not what I—I didn’t mean to come across that way.”

Jimin’s lips lift into a smile, “I know.”

“You know?” You ask and he hums.

“Yeah. The way we fucked babe, you really think I would think you would only want something like that just because you were horny? Yeah, no.”

“Jimin—”

“If you were just looking to get fucked don’t you think you would have just done it with Namjoon by now? But Namjoon isn’t what you wanted,” His voice goes lower, eyes boring into yours. “Now was it?”

He makes it sound so simple—and maybe it is. But you think you might refuse the idea of it being that easy. “W-What do we do now?”

“Still avoiding what it meant?” Jimin decides to tease you again, lips curved into one of his addicting smiles. “That’s okay.”

“It meant…” You start chewing on your lips, realizing you are avoiding that one because you haven’t even really thought about what it could mean. “I don’t know.”

“Me either.” Jimin’s smile continues to charm you. “And I think it’s okay that we don’t know right now. But what to do…”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very important to me, y/n.” Jimin breathes out, “So important.”

“I know.” You smoosh your cheek into the couch cushion, “You’re important to me too.”

“You’re in this thing with Namjoon…I don’t mean like,” His eyes widen a bit as he stares at you, “It’s not like thing, thing—an official thing—right? But it’s a situation? I mean, he’s…are you going to tell him?”

“Yeah,” you close your eyes briefly, hating that you have to tell Namjoon about this. “I am. I feel like I owe him that much. Not sure how he will react. If he will be angry or just disappointed.”

“I don’t know either.” Jimin admits. “But say things go okay…he still wants to be in a relationship with you…what are you going to do?”

“What…” You pause. You can’t believe you are on the verge of asking Jimin what you should do…you are really on the verge of asking Jimin to tell you what it is you think you should do because apparently it matters to you—his thoughts and opinions.

“Hm?”

“What do you think I should do?” You blurt.

“You…” Jimin raises his brows at you, “You want me to tell you what I think?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you know already, y/n. Not just what I think but what you think. But you are fighting it and I cannot figure out why.”

“Fighting it?”

“Mhm.” Jimin looks at you with a softness, a softness that seems to be bleeding into another look. Maybe one of guilt. “If I had to guess it would be because you’re just wanting something or someone and you know he’s good, maybe even safe. You’re afraid to ever feel something again like you had with me.”

“Okay.” You stare at him, slowly nodding your head. “Maybe.”

“And that’s one reason why what we did cannot happen again. Right?” Jimin tilts his head just slightly, a smile that is barely there on his lips.

You feel your chest tighten as the words leave his mouth, “Right.” You whisper. “And another reason is because of you. Right?”

Jimin’s lips curve just a little higher, his eyes shining with his understanding—and your understanding. “Right.”

“We’ve moved on.” You state simply. “So, of course we wouldn’t fall into what we did again.”

“Oh?” Jimin’s lips start tugging into something sly. “So, you are telling me you won’t even think about it then?”

“The sex we had?” You question and he grins.

“Yeah. You won’t think about it? Won’t let your mind wander?”

“Even if it did…doesn’t mean—Listen, I’ve been successful. You think I haven’t thought about you like that? Nothing happened!”

“But…something did happen?” Jimin chuckles, “You weren’t successful.”

“Did you…did you ever think about—“

“I told you when I was fucking you that I had.”

“Yeah but—”

“I wasn’t just saying things to turn you on. Everything I said was the truth. I have been desperate to kiss you for some time.”

You can’t help but snort, “Desperate is a pretty serious word, Jimin.”

“It’s been pretty serious.” He laughs back. “Even with knowing it’s not a good idea or something I should do…even right now I am thinking about kissing you.”

Your mouth falls open, surprise gracing your features before you lean more forward to hit his arm. “You are not!”

“I definitely am.” He smirks. “Maybe I’ll be thinking about that forever. Who knows.”

“You really have no shame.” You roll your eyes, covering your mouth with your hand, doing your best to hide your growing smile. “You can’t just say that.”

“At least let me say it since I can’t do it.” Jimin jokes. “But anyway, y/n.” He grows a little more serious, “We’re okay?”

“Yeah, we are.” You smile towards him. “Want to watch a show?”

“Might as well.” Jimin returns your smile before standing from the sofa, walking to the other side to grab your designated blanket. He comes back to his spot but instead of a foot of distance between you both, he sits right next to you, thighs glued together. “Cold.” He mumbles as he lays the blanket over both of your laps.

You reach for the TV remote, turning it on to Netflix. “A movie?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jimin says, head leaning on your shoulder, “Pick whatever you want.”

You aren’t really sure Jimin is paying too much attention to the movie you chose…every time you steal a glance at him, you see how his eyes are on your lap. His fingers play with yours and so much warmth starts radiating off of your body. You don’t know what he is thinking or how he is feeling in the moment.

“Are you bored?” You whisper at him, “You look bored.”

“Not at all.” Jimin murmurs, “I am having a nice time actually.”

“You aren’t even watching the movie.” You laugh, pointing out the obvious. “Your eyes have only been on our hands.”

“Your hands are nice.”

“So you would rather watch them than this movie? Yeah, you’re bored.”

“Not bored.” Jimin chuckles, his eyes finally lifting to look at you. And then he speaks slowly, “Touching you isn’t boring for me.”

His touch relaxes you but his words send a strange feeling throughout your body. Tingles maybe.

“You’re saying you could touch me forever and have fun then?” You quirk a brow, “You’d never get bored?”

“Is there a world where you let me touch you forever?” Jimin’s lips curve up, “Sounds like my ideal world.”

“Shut up.” You shake your head, “Don’t tell me something like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you have an ideal world and I’m in it.”

“You aren’t just in it. In the ideal world I get to touch you.” He whispers.

“Then are you in your ideal world then? You’re touching me right now.”

“In my ideal world I am touching you a whole lot more than this.” Jimin’s tone falls lower, his eyes on yours and you want to shudder…because the tingles are here again and they are starting to feel dangerous to your health.

“How much more?” Your breaths are soft but one leaves your mouth shaky and Jimin knows he’s got your mind wandering.

“Don’t ask a question that you aren’t prepared to hear the answer.” Jimin’s fingers start threading through yours. “The only hint I can give you is that it’s so much touching that you would be aching to touch me back.”

“Would I?” You tease, smirk on your lips while Jimin rolls his eyes at you, scoffing at how much of a tease you are.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I know because I know you.”

“Do you though?” You continue to tease him, your own fingers playing with his. “It’s been five years, Jimin. People change.”

Jimin starts chuckling, his hand leaving yours. He raises his head and turns it towards you, just a few inches from your face when he gazes into your eyes, a specific glint inside them. “That doesn’t work anymore, y/n.” He tells you softly, “I know you now. I know you all over again. I know this y/n. I know you.”

Your breath gets stuck inside your throat somewhere. As much as you would love to breathe—you can’t. Not when Jimin stares at you like this…stares at you like he really does know you. Stares at you with eyes full of some unreadable emotion. You look at him, trying your best to read his expression. You finally release a long breath, still staring when it finally hits you. You can read him—you can read him well. You know exactly what he wants.

“You want to kiss me.” The worlds tumble out of your mouth quickly and quietly and Jimin’s smile drops and his eyes expand but before he can save himself and maybe even lie to you…you lean in and plant your lips on top of his.

You weren’t thinking…not exactly. You just followed whatever your body wanted. And it seems Jimin is doing the same. The moment your lips touched his, he already had his hands traveling across your waist until they are now cupping the back of your neck, his own lips working over yours.

You don’t know how long you two have been kissing but it feels good, there isn’t even tongue yet but it’s still messy and hot. The low groaning coming from Jimin is making every nerve in your body react, your fingers tugging his hair and pulling him closer to you, leading his body over yours as you start to lay back.

Jimin is quick to slot himself between your legs, getting as close as possible to you while his lips never leave yours. When he lightly bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it back and making you buck your hips into his crotch, he finally slides his tongue in your mouth. Warm, wet and sloppy and so fucking hypnotizing. Especially the way he starts grinding into you.

Jimin pulls away from your lips so he can start exploring other parts of you with his mouth. His tongue glides across your jaw, your head leaning further back, a soft moan leaving you while Jimin continues to grind. He sucks a spot on your neck while his hands get busy—he wastes no time—his fingers already at your pants, trying his best to unbutton them quickly while he kisses your skin.

“Wait, wait.” You whine, eyes slamming shut. “I’m on my period.” Your own hands go to his to stop him from taking your pants off. Jimin leans away from you before he smirks.

“You know I don’t care.” He whispers, his lips finding yours again. He pecks your lips over and over, his fingers still trying to mess with the button. Your eyes roll back, wanting nothing more than for him to do whatever it is he wants with you. But you stop him again, smile on your lips as you cup his face.

“It’s not light.” You inform him, “It’s okay, seriously.”

Jimin breathes out roughly, his forehead coming down to yours as he calms himself down. “Okay, okay.” He tells you, “That’s okay—”

“You’re hard?”

Jimin disconnects his forehead from yours just barely, only for his eyes to meet your eyes. “y/n.” He moans your name and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer. Jimin licks his lips before continuing, “You know I’m so hard right now. I’m so fucking hard for you.”

“Let me take care of you.” You begin rising from the couch, your hands on his chest as you push him back. “Let me make you feel good.”

“I feel good already babe.” Jimin gazes at you, his eyes softening but the lust is still very much alive in them.

“You like looking at my hands right?” You push Jimin even more, his back hitting the couch cushion. “Don’t you want to see them wrapped around your cock?”

Jimin freezes for only a second, his chest beginning to heave more and more as he lets the image of you playing with his cock linger in his mind.

“You were right, Jimin.”

“About what?” He struggles to speak coherently, his dick so painfully erect now.

“You do touch me in a way that I ache to touch you back.” Your fingers go to his jeans, already unbuttoning them and sliding down the zipper. “My ideal world…fuck,” You help him get his jeans off, your hand dipping inside his briefs. “I touch you too.” Your fingers barely brush against his member but you can feel it react instantly. It twitches and Jimin’s eyes become half lidded as he stares at you. “This is my ideal world, Jimin.”

“Then touch me…fuck,” He whines, struggling to keep his eyes open and on you. Your fingers wrap around the shaft, barely stroking him when he breathes harder and harder. “Fucking touch me more baby.”

“More? Maybe my hands aren’t enough for you Jimin.” You finally pull his member out as Jimin’s own hands scramble to tug his underwear down to his thick thighs. “You don’t want to come all over my hands right? You’d rather come down my throat, huh? You’d rather have me swallow your cum, taste you and crave you later when you aren’t here.”

“You would crave me, wouldn’t you?” Jimin’s raspy voice makes your head spin. This entire scene in front of you makes your head spin actually. The way he looks at you, eyes barely open, his lips extra plump and swollen from kissing and his chest rising and falling quickly. “Because you’re so addicted to me.”

He nailed it, you think. You are addicted…the way he kisses, the way he touches, the way he fucks, the way he just exists in front of you.

“I am.” You tell him, eyes on his while you lower your face to his cock, wasting no time in wrapping your lips around the head.

“y/n…” Jimin whimpers your name, his eyes closing for a moment. “I love this…love this…”

You know he does. You know this addiction has you doing things you both agreed you wouldn’t do because you couldn’t—because you shouldn’t. Yet here you are, pleasing Jimin until he tenses beneath you and spilling all of his warm cum into your mouth. And here he is drowning in you all over again.

~~~~~

“What is up with them?” You whisper to Hoseok, both of you staring at Naomi and Jeremy from across the table as they blatantly ignore one another.

“By the way, y/n…” Jeremy gets your attention but stops midway to take a bite of his lunch, “It’s Wednesday, don’t forget to help me print out my report.”

“Uh huh.” You nod, eyes going between him and Naomi. “Are you guys like…okay?”

“Us?” Naomi gestures between her and Jeremy. “Obviously. What great friends like us wouldn’t be okay?”

“Exactly.” Jeremy mumbles with his mouth full. “We’re amazing.”

“Oh dude, how was your date on Friday? What’s this one’s name again?” Hoseok asks, dipping pineapple into some sauce. “It was date two, right?”

Jeremy swallows his food before glancing at Naomi awkwardly, “Yeah, it was good. Her name is Mimi. I’m supposed to see her again sometime this weekend, maybe Saturday but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Naomi stares ahead, eating her own lunch. “Right, you seem to not know a lot of things, huh?”

Jeremy rolls his eyes at this, “Anyway, she’s a nice girl—”

“Well, if you like her so much you should definitely go out with her again!” Naomi turns her head towards Jeremy and smiles. “But you know, don’t tell her you like her if you aren’t even sure though. That would be pretty fucked up.” She tells him, smile still on her face before she turns to look at you and Hoseok. “Right, guys? Imagine?”

“Yeah…” You blink at them, still so confused what is going on.

The four of you get back to your office and continue working for the day. It’s around 4 when your boss, Mr. Lincoln calls for a meeting. You groan, not wanting to get lectured again on whatever it is he wants improved. You and Hoseok share a look with one another as you take your seats in the meeting room, waiting for whatever it is Mr. Lincoln wants to scold your office for.

“Alright!” Mr. Lincoln claps his hands together, “I know most of you have already heard by now but I will be taking a leave for a few months! Some other business I have to attend to but no worries, my wife’s very capable nephew will be coming to fill in for a bit.”

“Great.” Hoseok leans in to whisper, his voice annoyed. “I bet this person doesn’t know shit.”

“Same.” You mutter back.

Mr. Lincoln glances at the two of you before he continues, “If you think I can be hard on you all then you will finally realize how easy it is here with me.” He starts to chuckle, shaking his head lightly. “My nephew takes his roles very seriously. Please keep that in mind when you try to goof off. You, especially.” He points at Hoseok, “I know how much you and your friends love to chat.”

“It’s y/n who always starts the conversations!” Hoseok tries to put the blame on you, “She’s the culprit!”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Lincoln looks at you now, “I know y/n is a very hard worker.”

Naomi and Jeremy start laughing at this and you just shrug, Hoseok glares at you while mouthing ‘he wants to fuck you’ when Mr. Lincoln isn’t looking. You just swat his arm and carry on.

“Friday will be my last day but no worries, I will be back everyone. Let’s work hard.”

You and Hoseok sit on his couches, finishing take out that you both decide wasn’t very good and probably too expensive. It’s only Wednesday and that thought alone sucks since you are so ready for this week to be over.

“I can’t believe you guys did it again.” Your best friends says, rubbing his belly from how full he is despite the food only being a like 5 out of 10. “Is this going to become a thing?”

“First,” You slide your food container away from you, “We didn’t do it again. Just…you know,”

“I love you but shut up.” Hoseok laughs. “It counts.”

“I’m so stupid, Hobi. We came to a whole ass conclusion that we shouldn’t yet we—”

“The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Or my vagina.” You deadpan.

“Normally I would agree but your secret garden didn’t even get any action so…”

“I guess that’s true.” You frown. “He’s so…he makes me…I don’t even know.”

“I think you do know.” Hoseok tells you bluntly, “You do know…but you won’t say it and I have no idea why. I’m your best friend. Just say exactly what you’re thinking.”

You stare at him before you scoff to yourself, “Hoseok, trust me. I’m not even thinking things in my brain with my brain voice the thoughts that my brain is even having. If I can’t even make my brain voice say those things how the hell do you think I’m going to get my mouth voice to do it?”

“Too many voices.” Hoseok shakes his head, “Anyway, I get it. I guess. But okay, let’s start there—have the thoughts in your head and like, hear them.”

“No thanks.” You tell him right away, “I’m good.”

“You’re being so—” Hoseok’s head shoots up when he hears his door bell ring. “Who is here?” He wonders, glancing at you but you shrug. Hoseok stands from his sofa and walks through his home to answer the front door. You can hear him open the door, whatever, whatever but your ears really perk up when you hear a voice that is all too familiar.

“Jimin?” You turn to see Hoseok and Jimin walk through, Jimin’s eyes expanding when he spots you.

“y/n?” He questions you in return. “You’re here?”

“…Yes. You’re here?”

“Yes…”

“And I’m here too!” Hoseok grins. “Ah, but maybe you guys wish I wasn’t,” He starts smirking. “You know, so you two could…” He wiggles his brows at both of you when Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“You told him?!” Jimin blurts out, his finger pointing at you.

“Of course I told him?!” You look at him incredulously, “Why wouldn’t I have? He’s my best friend!”

“True.” Hoseok nods in approval.

“Why are you shocked!” You shout, “Didn’t you tell anyone?!”

“Who am I going to tell?!” Jimin looks at you just as incredulously.

“Uh, Taehyung??”

“Taehyung?!” Jimin looks at you like you are insane. “Seriously? If I told Taehyung right now he would just…he would be so happy! He would literally start planning a wedding! You know…again.”

“Shit,” You tear your eyes away from his for a moment, “That’s totally understandable. So then why are you here?”

Jimin shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, his eyes going from you to Hoseok before he’s lifting a finger to point at your best friend. “Uh…” Jimin stares at you blankly. “To tell…him.”

“Of course.” You deadpan.

“Wait, really?” Hoseok lights up, grin growing. “You came here to talk to me about this stuff?”

“Yes?” Jimin looks a bit unsure. “If that’s cool?”

Hoseok lights up even more, “Of course that’s cool!” Then he looks at you, “y/n, hurry, go home.”

“What?” “Go home!” Hoseok whines. “I want to hear everything from Jimin’s perspective.” Then he glances at Jimin, “Because I, you know, care.”

“He’s just nosey as fuck.” You tell Jimin with a straight face as you stand from the couch, “But fine, you’re lucky, I was wanting to go home anyway.”

You are curious, of course. So curious actually. So curious in fact that you’ve texted Hoseok like 8 times but he still hasn’t answered and it’s already almost midnight. You are wondering what Jimin told Hoseok, what his thoughts are—his feelings. You want to know. But don’t you already know? Didn’t he already tell you everything? You’re wondering if you should give up on Hoseok texting you back and just wait until tomorrow at work to get answers. But right when you think you’re giving up, your phone goes off.

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

I shoulda known I was gonna come find my phone with a bunch of texts from you and YOU call ME nosey!!!!

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

But ok wow. Tonight was a lot

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

Like a lot

y/n 11:56pm

what happened??? What did he tell you?

Hobi:)) 11:58pm

He told me maybe everything? He told me about emma dude…that shit hurted. Anyway so much stuff makes sense now…he also told me why he broke your heart and stuff and like I said…so much stuff makes sense

y/n 12:01am

Hobi:)) 12:02am

Yeeeeaah…but umm he did also tell me about you guys hooking up and also what you guys talked about

y/n 12:03am

okay and

Hobi:))12:08am

And I feel like he didn’t tell you everything

y/n 12:08am

???

y/n 12:08am

what are you talking about

Hobi:)) 12:09am

Im just saying I don’t think he told you everything

Hobi:)) 12:09am

Like based on what you told me he said, I don’t think he told you everything and also he said even more stuff tonight and idk kinda feels like you two need to talk again

y/n 12:12am

genuinely so confused

y/n 12:12am

just tell me?

Hobi:)) 12:13am

No no no this is something that needs to come from him…im not saying he intentionally didn’t tell you something but I think he might have something to say or idk. Idk how to explain it but look regardless figure your shit out with joon cuz this is gonna get messy fast

y/n 12:20am

wtf hobi

Hobi:)) 12:22am

Im team jimin btw. Hes a good guy y/n and you know this already and I know things sucked for a while but he does care about you and I care about you and I want to see you happy and isn’t that jimin?

Hobi:)) 12:40am

You aren’t replying so I know im right. But I also know something else…because jimin is the one that makes you happy that’s why you wont choose him right? Because the happier a person can make you also means this person can also make you the saddest and youre terrified of that I get it y/n but that thought breaks my heart and I hope I am wrong

y/n 12:43am

goodnight hobi

~~~~~

It’s Thursday evening when Jimin calls you, asking if he can come over and talk to you about something—obviously you say yes but not even a minute after you hang up with him, your phone is ringing again. Namjoon.

“Hello?” you answer pretty quickly. You haven’t really heard from him all week since he’s been out of town.

“Hey.” He sounds tired, exhausted even. “You busy?”

“Not currently, why?”

“Well, first,” Namjoon pauses, his voice still sounding tired but you can tell he’s smiling. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” You respond, “Tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m actually back in town, just got home and I thought I’d see if you wanted to come over for a little while? I have an early morning but I would love to see you even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“Oh.” You stare at nothing, thinking about how Jimin is probably already on his way. “I—”

“I really need to see you.” Namjoon chuckles, “It has not been a very good week.”

“Oh.” You say much softer. “Okay…Um, I can leave in a few minutes then.”

“Perfect, be safe on your way here.”

You and Namjoon hang up and you feel a bit of dread as you dial Jimin’s number and to call him and let him know he can no longer come hang out with you. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey.” He sounds nice on the other line, his voice something so soothing to you.

“Hey…”

“What’s up? You okay?”

“Actually,” You pause, wondering how it will feel for him. “Namjoon just called and he’s home and wants to see me but I was going to tell him no but—”

“It’s okay.” Jimin cuts in, “If you need to cancel, I get it.”

“It’s not that I just want to cancel on you, Jimin. He just sounds like he had a bad week and—”

“It’s okay. I get it.” Jimin tells you, voice soft. “Are you staying there?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s just a for a little while.”

“Okay…want to come by my place after you see him? I still want to talk to you.”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, “I can do that.”

You’re barely even finishing knocking on Namjoon’s door when he’s already swinging it open and pulling you inside.

“Hi.” He brings you close to him, his arms wrapping around your body as he embraces you tightly. “I missed you.”

“Hi.” You say back, the word getting lost into his t shirt as he squeezes you to his chest.

You’re nervous to be here to be honest. You plan on telling Namjoon about what you’ve done with Jimin but you’re waiting for the right timing.

“I had the shittiest week.” He tells you, “I just need you around to feel better.”

And you are realizing maybe this isn’t the right timing. Namjoon finally peels himself off of you, holding you at arm’s length and smiling the kind of smile that makes you feel weaker.

But even this smile lacks in joy. He’s tired. He’s looking beat from the week. He’s looking like he only needs to hear good things.

Namjoon takes a deep breath before hugging you again.

“What happened?” You finally ask. “Is everything okay?”

Namjoon leads you to his cream sofa, taking a seat next to you and starts telling you about his week.

“Honestly, my writing is just…I’m in a funk, maybe? But everything has been garbage…at least to me. Emiko has been trying to cheer me up but she’s going through her own stuff and she’s just…she’s probably had a worse week than me.” Namjoon sighs, “She just doesn’t realize she deserves so much better—anyway. Two, yes two, of the meetings I had this week to set up for the tour this summer got canceled because they’re pulling out! Like, pulling out altogether so that’s great news.” He frowns now, his fingers rubbing his temple. “It just feels like things with my career aren’t progressing the way I want them to but also, Emiko is my agent and she works so hard but…”

“But what?”

“I know she’s going through a really tough time. And I can’t really help her and that bugs me. Sorry, I’m just…I hate when I can’t be there for someone I care about.”

You smile at Namjoon because that sounds just like him. “I’m sure she knows you are here for her, Joon.”

“She doesn’t want me to be. That’s the thing.” His frown deepens. “She made a huge deal about us needing to be more professional…that at the end of the day she’s just my agent. That hurt, you know?”

“Oh.” You feel your heart hurt for him, “That would hurt. For sure. But she’s probably just saying that because she’s dealing with whatever is going on with her. Maybe she’s trying to push you away but even if you have to just stay by her side silently…she will appreciate it.”

Namjoon’s lips finally lift into a smile, “You’re right.” He tells you, “I’m just…I’ve known her almost my whole life. I hate seeing her in a bad mood, I guess.”

“You’re very sweet.”

And he is…he is very sweet.

“Thank you, y/n. I knew talking to you and seeing you would be something that would make me feel better.”

You only nod at him, guilt starting to bubble over but you try to push that away as you come to your decision. Namjoon is a good man, a very good man and you would be stupid as hell to lose this.

“Hey, I’m leaving Namjoon’s. I know it’s late but did you still want me to come over?” You ask Jimin over the phone, “I can be there in 20.”

“Actually,” Jimin’s voice sounds a little muffled, “I’m kind of already at your place.”

“Huh?”

“I was feeling bored so I just came here. I’m just outside, chillin.”

“Oh.” You turn, driving through a neighborhood as you start making your way to your place instead. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Okay, be safe. See you soon.” And then he is hanging up.

You arrive to your place not too much later, walking up to your apartment when you see Jimin sitting outside your door, dark hair looking longer, blowing in the breeze.

You greet him casually as you unlock your front door and you both make your way inside.

Jimin slips his shoes off and is already making his way to your living room, plopping down on the couch. You eye him over as you take off your own shoes, “You okay?” You ask.

Jimin looks a little odd—maybe nervous or anxious, his leg shaking up and down. He just nods his head but you can see how he swallows hard.

“Okay…” You walk towards him, taking a seat next to him.

“How was Namjoon’s?” Jimin asks, “Did you tell him?”

“Did I—oh, no. He uh, he was having a hard time and I didn’t want to potentially make it harder so I haven’t…”

Jimin stops shaking his leg as he nods slowly, “Oh. I see.” “But I made my decision.” You look Jimin in the eye but he grows a little confused.

“About?”

“Namjoon.”

Jimin eyes’ go wide before he’s gesturing for you to continue.

“If Namjoon still wants a relationship with me even after I tell him what we did…I’m going to agree. I’m going—”

“Wait.” Jimin’s eyes search yours, “Wait, wait. What?”

“Yeah. I’m going to, you know, be his girlf—” “That’s…” Jimin’s gaze falls to your lap. “That’s what you want?”

“Yes.” You tell him. “It is.”

“It’s what you want because you like him. Right?” His eyes find yours again, but they have hardened.

“Y-Yeah.”

Jimin stares at you for moments too long, his gaze making you feel nervous but he finally tears his eyes from you, licks his drying lips and stands from the couch. “Okay. I really wish you good luck, y/n. I hope this works out.”

“Thanks…” You mumble, your eyes on his back. “What—what did you want to talk about though?”

He turns to face you, a small smile on his lips. “It’s nothing now. Don’t worry. I’m going to head home but we’ll talk soon, yeah?”

~~~~~

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—”

“What?!” You shout at Hoseok, who sits at his desk beside you, “Why are you freaking out?”

“Dae just texted me.” He tells you, “And it’s…”

“It’s? It’s what?”

“Holy shit. What am I going to do?” He drags his hands down his face, “We have barely spoken since you know what, but now this???”

“What?”

“Apparently, Taehyung and Dae are going to get here this evening. She said Taehyung planned it and is wanting her to come so he doesn’t fall asleep on the drive…plus in his eyes—well, in his eyes I didn’t,” He lowers his voice into a whisper, “you know, fuck his sister and leave her the next morning!”

“Oh, damn.” You can’t help but smirk. “This should be entertaining.”

“He wants all of us to go out tonight for drinks,” Hoseok groans, “Jeremy and Jimin already confirmed they’d go but they don’t have to see Dae!”

“They will see Dae?”

“Yeah but they don’t have to see her after they’ve,” He lowers his voice again, “Fucked her!”

“True. But uh, Jimin said he would go?” You try to act nonchalant, eyes going back to your screen. “Cool.”

“Why are you being weird?” Hoseok accuses you right away. “Did something happen?”

“I wish I knew.” You tell him, “He’s barely talking to me today.”

“For real? He’s been blowing my phone up.” Hoseok shrugs, “Wait, once again, did something happen?”

“He came over to talk last night, uh, I told him I was going to give things with Namjoon a shot and he got weird and left. I texted him asking is he got home safe, blah, blah but anyway, he’s been so dry with me.”

“He came to talk but you told him…are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“But I am serious.”

“I know you aren’t that dumb, y/n.” Hoseok tells you with a straight face. “You really—”

“I made my decision, Hoseok.” You glance at your phone when you see a text from Dae. “Anyway, I’ll tell Naomi. I guess we are all hanging out tonight.”

Present

“No, no, no.” Taehyung looks at everyone with shocked eyes. “Dae?! Even you?!”

“Yes, even me, brother.” She looks unimpressed, taking another sip of her drink just for fun now.

“Hold on. Jimin?! But also…y/n?! Wait,” He slurs, a grin starting to form. “I will be the happiest man alive if you guys both had sex at the same time.” Then he looks a little puzzled, “I mean because it was you know,” He starts thrusting his pointing finger inside a hole he made with his other hand’s fingers. “Together.”

“Jeez, Taehyung.” You grumble, “Yeah, whatever. We did.” You look across the table to see Jimin who just sits here, eyes on his drink only.

“What?!” Taehyung shouts, “How?! How did that happen?! Oh my god, I have so many questions but I need to continue down this list. Okay, skipping Dae…Hoseok?! Who did you have sex with in the last week???”

Hoseok gulps, his eyes accidentally going straight to Dae and Taehyung is pretty quick to pick up what Hoseok is putting down.

“Wait, wait.” Taehyung points between Hoseok and Dae. “My…my sister?! Ah, come on, man! Not my sister! I know I wanted you to find someone! But not my sister!!!!”

“Why? You don’t think I’m good enough for your friend, Taehyung?” Dae rolls her eyes, “Don’t worry, he doesn’t seem to think so either.”

“Hey, I never said that.” Hoseok says, voice only directed at Dae. “I—seriously I don’t think that, Dae. I’m sor—”

“Moving the fuck on,” Taehyung looks at Jeremy now. “Jeremy?! Oh my god, was it the girl you went out with last week? She is pretty hot, bro. Surprised you didn’t tell us in the group chat though!”

Jeremy glances around the table before reaching for his glass and chugging the remainder of his drink.

“I’m curious too actually.” You look over at Jeremy, “You didn’t say anything. And Naomi, who the hell did you sleep with? I’m so confused…have you been seeing someone? Wait!” You look at her shocked, “Did you meet someone and had a one night stand?!”

Naomi reaches for her glass as well and starts chugging.

“Is this…” Dae glances around the table, “Is this not obvious to everyone?”

“They aren’t the brightest here.” Jimin finally says something, mumbling at he sips his drink again.

“Jeremy, you slept with Mimi?” Hoseok pats his back, “You didn’t even tell us!”

“Mimi this, Mimi that.” Naomi mocks, “Hate to break it to you guys,” She lifts her head and looks at everyone, “But I just don’t think Jeremy is that into her.”

“Naomi, stop.” Jeremy warns, “We already—”

“We already what?” She rolls her eyes.

“You don’t even like the way I talk to girls! You think the ‘weird’ poetry shit I do is cringey!” Jeremy suddenly shouts, “You hate it!”

“I do think it is cringey!” Naomi shouts back, you all look at these two confused as hell. “But I don’t hate it, you dumbass.”

“You do hate it! You think it’s cringe??!?!”

“Yes, it’s literally the cringiest shit but I don’t hate it!”

“What the hell is happening?” You ask, looking at Hoseok and he’s just as confused as you.

“That doesn’t even make sense?!” Jeremy tells Naomi, “You’re driving me crazy!”

“It does make sense!” Naomi looks frustrated, “You know…okay, you know that weird ass shoulder dance y/n does?”

“Why are you bringing me into this?” You ask with a straight face.

“Yeah,” Jeremy nods, eyeing Naomi wondering where she is going with this. “It’s literally the worst thing I have ever seen.”

“Exactly! It’s so horrible and disgusting and so fucking—”

“Yeah, it’s absolutely cringe.” Hoseok adds his two cents.

“What the hell is happening?” You ask, “How did this become about me??”

“We always tell y/n we hate it and it’s so cringey but we laugh our asses off every time she does it and we know she’s always going to do it, right? We think it’s the worst thing we’ve ever seen but we love it, don’t we?” Naomi looks at Jeremy, “It’s the worst but we love it. We never want her to stop the stupid thing she does with her shoulders.”

Jeremy’s mouth falls open a little as he realizes what Naomi is saying, “Wait. Are you…”

“Your poetry is cringe Jeremy but I love it because it’s yours and it’s you and god, you’re so stupid.” Naomi stands from her chair, “I’m going to get another drink.”

“I’m coming with you.” Dae stands as well, “Suddenly I want to get black out drunk.”

“Wait, wait.” You stop the girls from leaving. “But who did you have sex with, Naomi??”

“Are you serious…” Dae shakes her head at you, “It’s so obvious girl, come on.”

“It’s really not?” You question, eyes going to Hoseok who is just as lost as you.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either.” Hoseok tells you guys, “Jimin and y/n, Me and …Dae…and uh, Jeremy with Mimi but who’s your person?”

“Ha!” Naomi rolls her eyes harder than ever, “Mimi! Yeah fucking right. He didn’t go home with Mimi last Friday. Did you Jeremy? He came to my place after their little date and I’m sure you guys can figure out the rest.”

“I’m literally…figure what out?” You look at Hoseok and he shrugs.

“Oh my god…” Jimin huffs out, “Jeremy went to Naomi’s place after his date and somehow ended up fucking Naomi.”

“What?” You blink at Jimin before you snort, Hoseok joining you immediately, “Yeah, there is no way.”

“You guys are so dense.” Dae deadpans. “It was in front of you guys this whole time.”

You and Hoseok are still laughing but when Jeremy and Naomi don’t say anything you guys start quieting down, confusion growing more and more.

“Wow.” Taehyung glances at Aeri, “You are never wrong about these things!”

Aeri starts laughing drunkenly, “I told you!”

“This is…I’m just going to go home and get drunk now.” Naomi groans, “Dae, you in?”

“Hell yeah, I will never say no to something like that.”

“y/n?” Naomi asks you as well but you’re still looking between here and Jeremy and wondering how you missed this.

“Uh,” You blink at her before your eyes find Jimin. “Actually, I’m going to stay for a bit.”

“Suit yourself.” Dae says, spinning in her spot to leave.

“Wait, Dae—” Hoseok stands from his chair but her and Naomi wave everyone off before they head out.

“This is crazy.” Jeremy mumbles, “Naomi…oh god.”

“So you fucked Naomi but then what?” Taehyung slurs.

“I uh, told her I didn’t mean to do that because we’re friends…good friends.” Jeremy looks down at the table, “Then she went on about how we are for sure just friends…so she obviously regretted it, right? Anyway, It’s been hell since.”

“Well,” Hoseok lips set into a straight line. “This week is suddenly making so much sense.”

“Okay, now to the pairing I am most curious about.” Taehyung shows you all a mischievous grin, “Jimin, care to explain how you sexed up our wonderful y/n?” He winks at you both, making Aeri giggle more.

Jimin sighs out, his hand sweeping through his hair as he stands. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t feel appropriate to talk about when she basically has a boyfriend.”

“But they aren’t tech—”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Jimin smiles at Taehyung. “She’s into him and going to take that next step!” And then he’s walking off towards the bar.

“Next st—”

“Jimin.” You stand too, walking after him.

“Oh.” Aeri sways into Taehyung’s side, “It’s just us now! Well, us and the guy who had sex with your sis—”

“LALALALA!”

“Jimin!” You call for the man, trying your best to catch up with him. He gets to the bar and you finally make it by his side, leaning against the bar top as you stare at his side profile. “Can you just tell me what is wrong?”

“Nothing.” He stares ahead but you aren’t buying it—obviously.

“Can you just…can you look at me?” Your hand goes to his shoulder and he tenses beneath your touch. “Jimin?”

He sighs out heavily before turning to face you, his eyes locking with yours when you decide you can easily read him but you don’t want to. You don’t want to read everything he is saying but he tells you anyway.

“This is a mistake, y/n.” He tells it to you straight.

“What is?”

“Namjoon.”

Yeah, you scoff at this because to be frank—it annoys you. It irks you that he isn’t supporting your decision about Namjoon. And you cannot figure out why 100%.

“Okay.” You brows pull up quickly before you relax them. “That’s cool.”

“It’s all for the wrong reasons and you know it.” The tone of his voice chooses to annoy you more than anything. “You aren’t in love with him.”

“I don’t need to be in love with him, I just need to like him. God, it does not have to be that deep.”

“You like him the same way you liked the pet fish you had your freshmen year.”

“Just stop,”

“No.”

“You’ve been cold to me because you don’t think I should date Namjoon? That seems immature.”

“It’s not…” Jimin’s eyes soften, “Maybe I am immature. But I am only telling you this because I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later…”

“So none of your reasons are selfish ones?” You snap, Jimin’s brows pulling together before he breaks his eye contact with you to stare at the floor. “I need this Jimin.”

“Need what?”

Yeah, need what? That’s a great question. You’re letting something take over you, something close to a frustration but you aren’t sure what. This feels like something is coming to the surface—something not even the voice in your head has spoken yet.

“How is it…” Your voice is cold towards him, “That you got to move on and experience love again but I never got to? How come you got to but I never did? What? You think me trying my hardest to have something new for myself is bad? Is a fucking mistake? Rich coming from someone who already got this chance.”

Jimin’s eyes rise to meet yours and it feels like a punch to the gut. His eyes are full of something close to pain yet he tries to smile.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly, softly even. “I shouldn’t be trying to…” He pauses, swallowing hard to calm himself. “You’ve made your decision. I don’t know if I don’t want you to be with Namjoon for selfish reasons or because I really do think you aren’t doing the right thing. Maybe it’s both.” He tries to smile a little more. “Yeah, it’s both.”

“W-What are your selfish reasons?” You find yourself asking but Jimin just scoffs to himself, smile still in place.

“You already know them.” He tells you simply. “The night we talked about what we did—the sex. We said the things we were going to discuss were, how it went, what it meant, why did we do it and what do we do now.”

“I remember.” You tilt your head, “What about it?”

“We knew how it went. We talked about why we did it and what we do now but neither of us had an answer for ‘what it meant’ and I didn’t tell you the truth. You said you didn’t know and I agreed. But I lied, y/n.” His smile is still in place and it makes you feel anxious. Especially because his eyes are void of any positive emotion.

“You lied?”

“Yeah,” He hums. “I know what it meant to me.”

“What…what did it mean to you, Jimin?”

“Why would I even need to tell you that when you’ve already made your decision, y/n?” His smile starts dropping. “I told you that you’re afraid of having a love again like what you had with me and you said ‘maybe’ but I think the thing you’re afraid of is me.” Jimin’s eyes bore into yours, his gaze so intense as they gloss over. “And,” He gulps. “I fucking get it. Because I,” He pauses, gaze still set on you as he tries to push down his emotions. “I am also so fucking afraid of you.”

#bts #park jimin #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin angst #Kim namjoon #love again chapter 12

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sappynapper · 3 years ago

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here’s some real shit guys

DT helping with your computer issues hcs

Dream

soooo patient

like he goes into dad mode when he’s helping you with this kind of thing

if you get really frustrated and upset easily when computer stuff goes wrong he is so so good at calming you down and reassuring you

telling you “your work isn’t gone, i can get it back, it’s fine” in a soft voice while he’s clicking through stuff and rubbing your back

he loves doing it too tbh

even if it’s kinda early or he’s busy or w/e, as soon as you tell him “i have a computer question” he’s more than happy to help

makes him feel special and smart when you need him (🙄 /affectionate)

if your relationship is public knowledge he’s tweeting lame jokes about it all the time and flaming you tho

@Dream: ‘@y/u/n collects computer viruses (gatherer) then about once a month i get rid of them all (hunter)’

and don’t think he’ll let you or anyone else forget how smart and great he is etc etc

brings it up forever in pursuit of more praise

bonus: he noticed that there was quite a repetitive, mechanical element to your work that took up loads of time (i’m thinking adding citations to essays but w/e) so he holes up in his office and writes a code that does it for you so you can “spend less time working and more time with him”

he’s so ?? 🥺🥺🥺

Sapnap

if it’s an easyish fix he’s your guy

sorts it out then feels all smug the rest of the day

(side note, his furrowed eyebrow concentration face is hot af. u can’t even think about being stressed w your laptop bc you’re drooling over him fs)

when it’s fixed he insists he deserves a reward 👀

(just like a kiss guys relax 😅)

however

if it’s really complicated chances are he’s gonna be even more frustrated than you were

“nah screw this it’s completely fucked, i’ll just buy you a new one baby”

if it really really needs fixing or you give him doe eyes about it (he’s fr fucking helpless to your doe eyes, like instant kill shot) he’ll secretly get dream to fix it then pretend he did it to get all the loving afterwards lmao

your lathering on the praise for “saving” your ass, sap’s basking in it, and dream’s just stood there in the kitchen trying so damn hard not to say anything like 🧍🏻

it’s killing him but he knows how down bad sap is for you so he lets him have it (best friend shit fr)

Sap will joke around loads afterwards about how you’d be lost without him but if you get all genuine like “it’s true, you look after me so good” he’s straight up gonna cry

George

definitely the best at computer stuff of the three

100% can fix even the most terrifying blue screen of death problem

but when you ask for his help fixing something he’s all “what’s in it for me?” bc he’s a dick lol

you have to promise him all sorts of things just for him to fix it in like 3 clicks

you’re just like “oh 🧍🏻 … i’ve been scammed”

“mmm not my problem, you agreed, you have to make dinner and give me kisses 😘 ”

(like you weren’t gonna do that anyway 🙄)

that’s unless you’re actually upset bc it’s messing with a deadline or something important

hit him with the waterworks and he just comes straight over and fixes it real fast

he’s all nonchalant about it too like “yeah no big deal ez clap uh huh” when you’re thanking him, read: absolutely smothering him in kisses

secretly loves it sm though and if you stop he’s all like “hmm, no. you’re not done. more please”

#mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #dream x reader #mcyt x y/n

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sarcasmsweetie · 3 years ago

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Coming Home, Part 1

I am one of the least patient humans on this planet, so I present to you Part 1 of my newest series! I do want to note that this story has an OC instead of it being a reader insert. You can of course insert yourself if you so desire, but for me, the name of Rhys’ sister is incredibly important (reasons to be revealed at a later date).

Pairing: Azriel x Rhsyand’s Sister

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of trauma/past torture

Prologue | Masterlist | Part 2

Taglist (those crossed out could not be tagged): @bsenpai @starrstrucked @account1sblog @hernameispia @great-goddess-of-sin

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do for you?” I smiled at the captain, already grateful for the kindnesses he’s shown me up until this point.

“You’ve already done far more than I could have hoped. Taking the extra time to bring me to Night? I truly don’t know how to thank you.” A blush covers his tanned skin as he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“No thanks necessary. Happy to do anything to get someone out of that hell hole, especially a neighbor in need of a friend. Once we’re done with bringing refugees back to Day, I’m sure you’ll find us on this dock from time to time for trade.”

I nodded, tucking that bit of information away as I turned from the docks. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the city I never thought I would see again – my home.

I walked through the streets of the city, looking at all the stores and people milling about. I recognized some shop owners as I looked through the windows, and I felt such immense relief in knowing that the people of Velaris survived whatever Hybern threw at them and continue to thrive.

I took a few breaks throughout the early afternoon, catching my breath whenever I came across a bench or railing to lean against along the Sidra. While I knew it was because my strength was still very much lacking, I couldn’t deny that the larger part of me was terrified to look too closely for my family. I know they believe me to be dead – Dagdan and Brannagh took great pleasure in reminding me of this – so would my return be welcomed, or would it do more harm than good? I remained on the bench I found across the street from the House of Wind. Those stairs are certainly an impossibility for me, so should I take this as a sign to stay away? It’s been almost 500 years. My family has moved on. They don’t need me anymore, and probably never did if we’re being honest. What could I have ever brought to the table? I was just a child, and a sheltered one at that. And with my wings gone, I can’t even consider myself an Illyrian –

My thoughts paused as I felt something cool brush my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying and I looked down to see a whisp of smoke brushing against my face. I gasped, recognizing this particular whisp better than my own reflection. I raised my hand, biting back a sob as the shadow danced down my arm, twining itself between my fingers in welcome.

“My dearest friend, how I have missed you so.” The shadow bounced back to my check in a nuzzle and I smiled. “If you’re here, does he know I’m here as well?” I felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter and heavier, the reality of my situation weighing heavily on me.

The shadow moved in front me, moving side-to-side as if it were a head shaking itself ‘no.’ “Are they in the House?” Again, it shook itself no. Taking a deep breath, not allowing myself to second guess my next question, I stood. “Could you lead me to them?” The shadow immediately wrapped around my wrist like a bracelet, tugging me in the direction of wherever my family was.

The shadow led me back to the Sidra, walking along its bank for a time nearing the edge of the city. I noticed that the houses around here were a bit more spaced out, and seemingly somewhat newer. I don’t recall this section of the city, though I suppose I would have had no reason to come out this far. The shadow continued to lead me to a lightly wooded area, almost serving more as a privacy screen than actual woods. As we approached the edge of the woods, I heard a booming laugh, and my heart stuttered, recognizing Cassian instantly without needing to see him. I felt the tears begin to build, and the shadow moved to my shoulder, almost as if it were trying to rest against my head in some form of comfort.

I sensed wards along the property, but nothing was preventing me from continuing to move forward. I waited to see if anything served as an alarm for entering the property, but so far, nothing happened. I pushed on a little bit more until I saw my family. My eyes caught Rhys immediately, lounging back with who I’m assuming to be Feyre the Cursebreaker leaning into his side. Dagdan and Brannagh complained about her constantly whenever they were with me, which caused me to like her all the more. Everything they hated about her made her sound like the perfect soul to fit with Rhys and my family – no wonder they’re mates.

Scanning along, I saw a woman I did not recognize sitting next to Feyre, watching as Cassian ran around the lawn like a madman. After watching him a moment longer, I realized he was being chased by a small little boy. He had small wings that were fighting their hardest to keep the boy balanced. His hair was dark and I couldn’t quite see the color of his eyes from where I stood, but his smile was as bright and radiant as the sun as he chased Cassian. A sob caught in my throat – was this Cassian’s son? Did he find his mate, or at least someone he wanted to build a life with?

As Cassian turned to scoop the little boy in his arms, movement behind Cassian caught my attention and I fell to my knees. There sat Azriel, handing a third female I didn’t recognize a trowel as she worked in a garden. He looked over his shoulder at Cassian with a smile, clearly ready to make some remark, but instead his gaze connected with mine. He stood abruptly, syphons glowing, and the demeanor of everyone on the lawn changed, ready for danger, ready for a fight.

I dared not move from where I sat on the grass, but I did not stop the tears from falling as I watched Cassian hand the child to Feyre, and then the three glorious Illyrians closed rank, serving as a wall between me and the females. The whisp frantically tried to calm me down as the severity of my cries grew, and all three males marked the shadow on my shoulder.

My gaze slid along the three males as they slowly approached me, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from Rhysand as soon as our eyes connected. I watched as his brows furrowed and if I had any mental shields left to raise, I know for certain I would have felt the telltale sign of a talon searching for entrance. Instead, Rhys was able to barge right in, almost startled at the lack of resistance. My sobbing at this point has brought me nearly to hyperventilation, so I did the one thing I knew was in my power: thought as loudly as I could, “Rhy-Rhy.”

I watched his eyes widen and I could hear the breath catch in his throat. His brothers dared to take their eyes off me to look at him, and both their faces morphed into ones of confusion. “Si-Si?”

He ran the rest of the way to me, dropping to his knees in front of me. I could hear Cassian curse under his breath, but everything else shut out as I looked into violet eyes that mirrored my own for the first time in centuries. His hands gently raised as if to cup my face, but he pulled back at the last second.

“How? How are you here? You died all those years ago…” No longer able to resist the urge, he brought one hand to my face, now trying to reassure himself that this is real. I flinched at the contact, but knew deep down that both of us needed this, to ground us and prove to us that we are here together.

“Hybern and Spring. I’ve been in a cell in Hybern ever since that day…” Knowing Rhys was still in my mind, I briefly played the memory of the twins collecting me from the High Lord of Spring after they ripped our wings and killed our mother. I tried to hide away all the brutal parts of the memories, never wanting anyone else to experience them as I have, but I can’t be certain I was successful as the twin daemati managed to break any form of control I once had of my mental shields.

Before I could try and think of anything else to say, Rhys pulled me into an embrace. I froze, but as I felt Rhys pull away, I quickly hugged him back. Any form of touch that doesn’t bring pain is a foreign concept for me, but for this moment, I will hold my brother almost in defiance to the universe – daring the powers that be to try and separate us again. His body began to shake as he cried, holding onto me almost a bit too tightly. It was difficult to breathe through the tears and embrace, but I would gladly pay this price if it meant continuing to hold onto my big brother once again.

Rhys must have sensed my struggles as he began to pull back but didn’t let go. His hands went back to cupping my face and he leaned forward so he could rest his forehead on mine. “I have wished for this day every day for the last 478 years. Begged and prayed for it all to have been one giant mistake, one terrible nightmare that I would soon wake from and find you sprawled in your bed like the dignified little princess you were.” I laughed as he shared a memory of Young Me sprawled in an incredibly undignified manner in my old bed, snoring and drooling the morning away.

“Memories of you and our family are the only things that kept me fighting, the only things that kept me sane.” The tears continued, but the sobbing and hyperventilating at least finally faded. Rhys frowned as he looked me over.

“What did they do to you, little princess?” I felt him start to go through my memories, but I grabbed onto his wrists.

“Not yet. Please? There are a lot of things I don’t want you to see. And if I’m going to talk about it, I’d rather do it at once with the whole family.” I watched as his eyes grew pained, but nodded nonetheless. He leaned back, and I looked behind him to see a bewildered Cassian and incredibly pale Azriel. The shadow that led me here was now whispering in his ear, no doubt about the little adventure it went on in finding me and bringing me here.

“Rhys, is it really…?” Cassian trailed off, almost as if he’s afraid to speak my name or afraid of the hope that this could be true.

Rhysand grabbed my hand, helping me stand up with him. Turning to his brothers, tears still streaming down his cheeks but a smile growing wide as the sea. “Sirona is home.”

Azriel was still pale and unmoving, but Cassian wasted no time in stealing me from Rhys’ hold to pull me into a bone crushing hug. He easily lifted me off the ground, and I closed my eyes and released a sigh, truly feeling free for the first time since leaving my cell.

“Our little princess, finally home at last. I’ve fucking missed you, bug.”

“I’ve missed you, bub. I’ve missed all of you – more than you could possibly know.” I opened my eyes and saw that the three females had walked up at some point and the one who was gardening reached for Azriel’s hand.

“Who is this, Az?” He moved his hand away from her before she made contact, and I watched the hurt flash across her eyes. Azriel walked forward, as if in a trance, and I tapped Cassian’s shoulder to let me down.

“I’ve still got one more beasty to greet.” Cass and Rhys chuckled as I was set down, and I moved to Azriel. More shadows circled around me in their own form of a hug, and I held my hand out both to the shadows, and to Azriel if he wished to take it. Without hesitation, Azriel grabbed my hand, causing the shadows to move out of the way and circle around both of our hands instead of just mine. The heat of his hand contrasted with the coolness of the shadows, and I sighed at the feeling.

“Not once have they ever cared for another as they do you.”

“I’m fairly confident no one else has ever asked you if they could keep them as a pet. I suppose that’s bound to leave a lasting impression.” As if that one reference to when I was 7 and asked my father if I could keep Azriel’s shadows as pets as I wasn’t allowed anything else was the final bit of proof Azriel needed to confirm my identity, he pulled me to his chest as both his arms and shadows cradled me. I felt tears run down my neck and I could no longer tell if they were my own.

“I am so sorry. I am so sorry I never looked for you, never questioned if your death was real or not. I will never let you down so horrendously ever again.” I pulled back before he could continue down this road of self-hatred, remembering he was always so harsh on himself. I brought my hands to his face, pulling him down slightly to be eye-to-eye with me.

“You have never once failed me. You could never fail me, Shady. I promised you once that I would beat up anyone who spoke poorly about you. Don’t you think for a second that I didn’t include yourself in that promise. I may not be much of anything right now, but I will not hesitate to beat your ass into the ground if you ever say another horrible thing about yourself. Do you hear me?” All of the remaining shadows circled around me, as if to help give me strength to give him such a beating. His brows had furrowed, and he stepped back, looking me over. I immediately became self-conscious about what my frame has turned into over the centuries, and I internally cursed the shadows for leaving me when he directed them as I no longer could hide behind them.

“What happened to you, little one?” I crossed my arms over my chest and felt myself shrink under everyone’s gazes. I turned my own to the three females, deciding to turn the attention to meeting them instead of saying anything further. I looked first to Feyre, seeing the tears in her eyes.

“I’ve heard a fair bit about you, Feyre Cursebreaker. Thank you. For saving my family, for loving Rhys, and for being everything Hybern hated. Every complaint they’d make of you made me adore you just a little bit more.” She laughed as Rhys stepped up to my side, raising his arm in invitation to Feyre to step closer to us.

“Feyre darling, it is my absolute pleasure and honor to introduce you to my baby sister, the Pesky Princess of the Night Court, Sirona. Sirona, this is my mate, my love, my High Lady, Feyre and our son Nyx.” I turned to him so fast I almost lost my balance.

“Your son?” Those cursed tears came back in full force as I turned back to the little boy, seeing all the resemblances between Rhys and Feyre and I smiled. “Your son,” I whispered.

“I have heard so much about you, Sirona. I can’t even imagine what your journey has been up until this point, but I very much look forward to getting to know you. If there is anything at all that you need, don’t you hesitate to ask. We’re family.” I smiled, watching Feyre and Rhys look to each other with all the love I know both of them deserve. “Now I’d like to introduce you to my sisters, Nesta and Elain.” Cassian stepped up behind the sister identified as Nesta, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and I gave a small smile. Elain looked at Azriel as if she expected something similar, but he remained by my side.

“It’s lovely to meet you both.” I nodded to both of them, and they returned the gesture.

“Cassian would talk about you. Whether it was a memory or commenting on something you would have enjoyed, he tried his best to ensure your memory lived on.” I looked at a sheepish Cassian and cursed the tears that were continuing to blur my vision.

“The biggest softie of all the Illyrians. It’s a relief to see some things haven’t changed.” The tears were still clouding my vision, so I closed my eyes, hoping to clear them away. Instead, I began to feel a little light-headed and felt myself beginning to sway. Both Rhys and Azriel grabbed an arm, making sure I stayed upright. “I am so sorry; I think I just need to sit down for a bit. This is admittedly the most activity I’ve had in quite some time.”

I opened my eyes to see several sets watching me in varying levels of concern. “Of course, please let’s all go inside. It’s getting close to dinner time, anyways.” Feyre led us all into the house, and both Azriel and Rhysand kept a steady hold on me.

Rhys leaned down and spoke quietly into my ear. “I’ll get some tea for you once we’re all settled. Mor should be here by then and then we can talk.” I smiled at the thought of my bright and wonderful cousin, grateful I get to see everyone all at once. “I’d like to start first with where the hell your shields have gone.” My smile dropped and I felt a heavy weight drop in my stomach.

“Mother always said it was best to start at the beginning of a story. The shields are unfortunately deep in the middle of my particular story, brother dearest.” I swallowed down the dread I felt building and tried to put my focus into observing my brother’s new home. Warm hardwood was spread all along the first floor, though covered with the occasional area rug. Gorgeous paintings hung on the cream-colored walls, and I vowed to take the time to view and appreciate each piece as they deserved. We moved into the living room where the furniture took on cooler tones, grays and blues alike. Azriel sat with me while Rhys stepped away to get the tea, asking if anyone else would be having a cup.

“I think I’ll be drinking something a little stronger during this tale, brother.” Cassian lifted a bottle of whiskey he must have grabbed from the kitchen or dining room and Rhys nodded.

“Pour me a glass while you’re at it, will you Cass?”

“Same for me.” Azriel responded, though started to fuss over me, checking to make sure I found this sofa comfortable enough, if the room was warm enough or if he should get me a blanket. I placed my hand on his forearm with a smile.

“I am fine, Shady. I promise. I’m honestly the most comfortable I’ve been in a very long time.” I watched his eyes move from concerned to sad, and I smiled at the shadows that wrapped themselves around my shoulders.

Rhys soon walked back into the room with a tray of the tea and what looks like cookies. “Elain, I hope you don’t mind that I’m serving the cookies you made this morning.” I looked over at her across the room and watched as she turned her attention from me to Rhysand.

“Of course I don’t mind, Rhys. They’re meant to be eaten after all, right?” She was sitting tall in an armchair which was next to a sofa that Nesta and Cassian were currently on. Feyre and Nyx were sitting on a loveseat that sat between both sofas, boxing in the coffee table in front of all of us. Rhys smiled at Elain as he added milk to the tea he just poured. Passing it to me, his smile turned sheepish.

“I always kept your favorite blend in the house out of habit. I’d drink a pot of it on your birthday and holidays as a way to keep you with me.” My chin began to tremble, and I tried to turn a glare onto him.

“If you make me cry one more fucking time, Rhysand, I swear…” He chuckled as he began to sit next to me, but froze when he heard the front door slam shut.

“I don’t know what could possibly be so important, Rhysand, that you’d pull me away from my shopping. You know I have a very important date this weekend that I need to prepare for and – “ Mor cut herself off as she walked into the living room, noticing everyone sitting around. “What the hell is going on here? Is someone hurt? Did something happen?” Rhys straightened from his half-hunched position he froze in when Mor walked in and turned to our cousin.

“No one is hurt, Mor. But something did happen.” A shadow squeezed my hand, sensing the tension that erupted all over me. Mor sighed and I could practically hear the eyeroll that accompanied it.

“We all know you’re fond of the theatrics, Rhys. Just tell me what it is already so I can –“ For the second time, Mor cut herself off as Rhys moved out of the way, unveiling me to her. I set my tea back on the coffee table and stood.

“Hi, Mor.” Eyes wide, she dropped her shopping bags to the floor, and I barely noticed Nyx out of the corner of my eye reaching for the bags, most likely thinking they’re presents for him. Knowing Mor, he’s probably always getting presents that need to be unwrapped.

She looks me up and down, eyes turning shiny. “Hi, Mor? You come back from the fucking dead, and all you have to say to me is Hi, Mor?” She marches up to me, looking me over. “I don’t understand. How are you here? Did Cassian finally complete that séance he’s sworn to do?” She grabs for my arm, testing to see if it’s real, if I’m real. “Because I know for a fact the cousin who may as well have been my baby sister didn’t just appear out of thin air and give me the most boring greeting to exist when I know damn well I taught her better than that.” Her eyes were drilling holes into my own, the Morrigan coming out in full force, trying to read my truths as well as she speaks and hears them.

I grabbed her other hand and made sure I was looking her straight in the eye when I recited the phrase she taught me when I was 5 years old: “Sup, wench?” I watched as Mor let the tears fall freely before she pulled me into my fourth hug for the day. Four more than I’ve had in as many centuries.

I don’t know how long we held our embrace, but this is one form of touch I didn’t feel the need to count the seconds for – a form of touch that, while still unfamiliar, I didn’t have an immediate urge to shrink away from. I was home, and I would do everything in my power to ensure I was never taken away from it again.

Rhys did eventually ask Mor to let me go as he briefly mentioned how easily tired I get right now. Mor immediately let go, helping me sit where I was before. Azriel remained where he was, and Rhys took residence on the other side of this sofa, so Mor sat next to Feyre and Nyx. Azriel handed me my cup as Rhys spoke up. “Take your time with this, Sirona. But please, tell us everything.” I looked at him before taking a sip of my tea, enjoying that it tasted just as I remembered.

“I’d rather you not be in my head while I speak, if you don’t mind. As you’ve gathered already, my shields have been destroyed centuries ago and I can’t censor anything. A lot of this is going to be hard for me to talk about, but I especially don’t want anyone seeing this, seeing me like that. Please, Rhys.” I watched as he swallowed, trying to figure out ways to argue this, but I watched his eyes flash briefly to Feyre before he nodded. I don’t know what Feyre said to him through their bond, but I nodded my thanks to her.

I took a deep breath, clutching the cup tightly in my hands. “The High Lord of Spring and his sons found Mother and I in the forest. I didn’t understand a lot of what he was talking about, but I got the gist of it: the High Lord was upset with some choices Father made and didn’t like that it was starting to turn some of the other High Lords against Spring. He decided the best way to send a message to Father was through Mother and I. She and I were ambushed, shoved face first into the ground, and I looked up as a knee was pressed into my lower back and someone held my shoulders in place. I watched as Mother was put in a similar position. I remember fighting to get up, Mother fighting to have me left out of whatever they were planning, but all the High Lord did was laugh. Next thing I remember is the most intense pain I’ve ever felt as he tore the wings from my back. I was on the verge of passing out when I saw one of his sons struggling with Mother’s wings, so the other who was holding her down handed him a sword and I watched them cleave her wings from her back.” I was silent for a moment, remembering the sounds of her screams, the feel of blood pooling under my chest as it felt like my heart was beating through the two gaping holes on my back.

“I remember one of the sons, the youngest I think, yelling at his father that they’d done enough. They were only meant to scare us, not mutilate us. The High Lord told him to pick up our wings and take them to their manor. That he’d come home shortly and ‘deal with him’ then. I watched him scurry off, not once looking back at us. Once he was gone, the High Lord instructed the one who cut off Mother’s wings to now do the same to…” I stopped, choking on the words. I swallowed as I looked at my reflection in my tea. “Now do the same to her head.” I heard someone gasp, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up and see who. “I was screaming so much. Demanding they let her go – do whatever they wanted to me but leave Mother alone. I looked at her, watched as she desperately shook her head no, wanting me to just shut up for once in my life. But then I watched her face grow paler when the High Lord answered me, ‘Oh, I fully intend to do as I wish with you.’ I had never seen Mother so distraught than at that moment. She brought her attention back to me, and as she was mouthing the words ‘I love you,’ the sword fell. And her head rolled in front of me, stopping right before it could touch me.”

I held the cup so tight that I feared it would break. One of the shadows must have agreed as it moved the cup to the table before coming back to my hands, circling around them in an attempt to comfort me as best it could. “Like Rhys said, you take as much time as you need, little one.” I absent-mindedly nodded to Azriel’s comment, but I think it was pretty obvious to the room that I wasn’t mentally here anymore. Too lost in the memories, I continued on.

“As I waited to feel the sword land on my own neck, I thought I began hallucinating from the blood loss when three fae emerged from the trees. One of them, a female, was blindfolded and being led by a male and female. I remember the female’s eyes lit up when she saw the blood soaking into the ground, but the male is the one who primarily spoke. He confirmed with the High Lord that it was my face they were meant to work with. I thought I misheard because that didn’t make any sense to me. His companion took off the other female’s blindfold and I watched as the two began reciting some sort of spell, something I’ve certainly never heard in my training with Father. After a moment, the second female morphed into… me. I remember the High Lord was talking to the two fae as he circled the third, asking questions I couldn’t hear. Whatever they were discussing pleased him greatly because the next thing I knew, he raised his sword and this female who was turned into my likeness collapsed. I passed out soon after that, watching the two new fae approach while the males of Spring started… packaging heads.

When I next woke up, I was in a damp cell and the male from before was in the cell with me. He introduced himself as Dagdan, Prince of Hybern, nephew of the king. He told me that he and his twin were tasked with molding me, making sure I’d be ready to be the bride of the eldest son of Spring, the anticipated next High Lord. I don’t know how long I was in that cell before he next came to me, but all I know is that a healer was sent in to do the bare minimum of ensuring I survived the blood loss of my injuries but was not allowed to work on mending my back in any way. That my scars are meant to serve as a reminder to what happens when someone goes against Hybern or any of its allies. In all my time in the cell, I only ever saw the twins or a sentry who was assigned to bring me meals whenever he remembered to do so. I only ever saw my cell, or what the twins called their Play Room. I couldn’t tell you how many times they brought me there. After some time, they told me about the downfall of the High Lord of Spring and his two eldest sons. Told me that I was meant to be the bride of the eldest son and that as he is no longer alive, there’s no longer a reason for them to ever let me go. But it’s also there, Rhys, that they shattered my shield and ensured I couldn’t build one up again. Maybe in time I’ll be able to, but I just don’t have the energy to try right now.” Rhys grabbed my hand, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“We’ll work on that. Together. When you’re ready. I promise you, Sirona.”

“A lot happened in that room, Rhys. A lot that I don’t think I could ever tell you.” He brought his hand to my chin, raising my face to look at him.

“You tell me what you want, when you want to. But I need to know, Si. Did they…” I watched him swallow and blink back tears. “Did he ever…” I could see the words he couldn’t bring himself to say in his eyes, and I felt the need to close my own.

“Yes,” I whispered. Cassian cursed and I felt both Azriel and Rhys tense beside me. “Brannagh would stand behind me and Dagdan would watch her. As if I was just some bridge for the two of them to play out their own fantasies. I… Rhys. Something else happened and…” I opened my eyes, certain the pain in his violet eyes mirrored the pain in my own.

“I was pregnant.” Mor let out a sob and Azriel stood up and threw his glass into the fireplace. Whatever alcohol was left in the glass caused the flames to burst. I flinched at the flames and the shadows continue to wind around my shoulders and arms. “I don’t know how long I kept it a secret from them, but they found out eventually. Brannagh learned of it first and was furious. Beat me within an inch of my life, and I just knew the baby didn’t survive that. As soon as Dagdan entered the room and learned what set his sister off… I’ve never seen him grow so cold, especially toward his twin. He dragged her from the room, and soon after, he came in with a healer. The healer confirmed what I already guessed and made me drink a tonic to induce labor. I was about 5 months into the pregnancy and he explained we needed to get the… get the fetus out. That given my condition, this was the best way to do it. Dagdan stayed in the room with me the entire time, but the way he looked at me. It was like he finally realized I was a living, breathing female. Like he finally realized he was someone who could actually produce an heir.

Suddenly, more regular meals were being sent to my cell. Dagdan didn’t participate in their usual antics in the Play Room, but would monitor Brannagh and would call her off if she was inflicting too much pain, not letting me heal enough, or whatever it was he didn’t like at the time. If I was tracking time correctly based on the new meal schedule, I’d say about 4 months of this passed by before they announced they were going to the Spring Court on behalf of their uncle. However soon after they left, the meals stopped coming. I thought maybe it was just another game Brannagh was playing with me, to show me that I can’t escape her, even when we’re an ocean apart. I don’t know much time passed since that day, Rhys, but if they’re still out there somewhere, I can’t –“ A sense of panic cut me off, and breathing suddenly became incredibly difficult.

“Look at me. Sirona, look at me.” Rhys was speaking both out loud and in my mind, trying to clear the rising panic before it could take over. “Both Dagdan and Brannagh are dead. Feyre saw to it herself about a year ago. They cannot hurt you. They cannot touch you. Ever again.” I looked between him and Feyre, trying to convince myself that their deaths wasn’t another illusion they cast. That Feyre actually did it, was able to do what I only dreamed of. But they faked my death, who’s to say they can’t do the same for themselves. They certainly had plenty of enemies that would want to take them out, so they absolutely had plans in place to try and – “No magic was involved in masking anything, Siri. They are gone. Truly gone. No illusions. Nothing was faked. You are safe.” I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands as I tried to calm my breathing.

“I’m very tired, Rhy. Can I take a bath and rest here?”

“Of course, little Princess. Now that I have you back, there’s nowhere else in this world I’d let you go, anyways.” I stood with Rhys, but so did Mor.

“I’m more than happy to take you to your room, Siri. I can help you get your bath together as well.” I looked at Mor and her shining eyes and outstretched hand. Before I took it, I glanced down to my own hand.

“This is where we depart for now, little shadows. I know you can’t keep a secret from Shady to save your existence, so bath times are off limits with your little visits, you hear me?” They quickly circled me before flying off to Azriel or corners of the room. After everything I had said, I couldn’t look at anyone, new or familiar faces. I nodded in everyone’s general direction, but Feyre spoke up before I could leave the room.

“I’ll have dinner brought to your room, if you’d like. Something to eat before you go to bed.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you very much.” I took Mor’s hand, and she led me into the hall and up a set of stairs.

We passed a few rooms on the second floor, but soon Mor opened a door at the end of the hall. “They created a few guest rooms for the nights we all drink a bit much and don’t feel like making our ways home. I’m sure Rhys will agree when I say this room is yours for as long as you want it.”

Walking into the room, I smiled at the soft purples and creams that decorated the space. A vanity stood next to the wardrobe on the opposite side of the bed. The end of the room was a massive wall of windows opening up to a balcony that overlooked the Sidra. It was a beautiful view, and I was grateful to be given this. “There are some clothes in the wardrobe, but I will happily take you out when you’re feeling up to it to fill your closet. Can’t have you rotating through the same two or three outfits, after all.”

I turned to Mor with a smile. “I would like that, thank you.” I watched as she grabbed a set of pajamas from a drawer and then led me to the bath.

“Will you need help?”

“Please?” She nodded, setting the clothes on the counter before turning to the various knobs of the massive tub. Understandably, the tub was big to fit those with wings. I felt a phantom twitch where both of mine once sat and I let the shudder run through my body.

“Can I add any oils for you? Lavender? That was always your favorite. May help you get some sleep tonight, as well.”

“As always, Mor, you know what I need before I do.” While her back was to me, I quickly removed my clothes and slipped into the bath. I closed my eyes with a sigh, already melting into the warmth of the water. While the captain was kind enough to let me use his chambers to wash off the worst of the grime, I still felt dirty.

After another few moments of silence, I watched Mor turn off the water, making the room silent. “Is there anything else I can get you?” Her amber eyes briefly glanced over what was above the water, from my shoulders up.

“Can you stay? Tell me everything that’s happened with you over the last 400 years.” She walked towards where I was in the bath, but paused while behind me. I felt her gaze along what she could see of my back and I slowly moved lower into the water.

“I just realized I never grabbed a towel for you. Let me get that, and I will spend so much time with you, you’ll beg me to leave you alone.”

“Jokes on you then, cousin. I’ll never ask that of you. Of any of you.” She stroked the back of my head briefly before turning back into the bedroom. Leaning my head against the lip of the bath, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to allow the lavender to flow around me. I listened to Mor move around the room before hearing a muffled laugh.

“I should have known one of you would have been in here. Make yourself useful and tell Az to bring Madja over. We probably should have asked her to come ages ago, but I want her to look Siri over.” I remember the healer Mor is asking for. Rhys always asked for her for any small injury. Cass and I used to make fun of him, asking if we needed to get Madja if he had gotten a paper cut.

After another moment, her footsteps make their way across the tiled floor before she sits beside me, dipping her feet into the water. “So. Everything that’s happened since we last saw each other. I think we’ll need more than one evening.” I smiled, leaning my head against her thigh. Her hands immediately went to my hair to play with it.

“That sounds wonderful to me.”

#azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar #bri's writing

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