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they-loved-in-2075 · 2 years ago

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Science Fiction And Human Emotions!

Emotional Composition of Humans in 2075.

She continuously gazes at the sky and very infrequently winks her eyes, then as if she were visited by a thought in her mind, she feels the essence of a fond memory from the past, flood her brain. That leaves her awash with a strange feeling only known to her. A feeling that in 2075 is not experienced by most of the citizens, but by only few and last remaining men and women from the older generation.

The new generation of men and women , interprets human emotions and feelings quite differently, to the extent that they have lost the humane side of their feelings. Because in 2075, love, empathy and sympathy have evolved into human expressions which translate differently, compared to older times, when human sentiments complimented the emotional need of a person, but today, it has been reduced to a human expression with no more than a customary value attached to it.

So, if inadvertently you have done something wrong and you apologise, the other person reacts by saying “It is alright!” It is very likely he/she said it out of customary social practice, with no feelings attached to it. A very superficial expression, that at a human level translates into nothing. Because the person who said it did not feel anything while saying it. It feels almost like a robot programmed to say it. Just for the sake of saying it.

Why is it so in 2075 and will it get worse?

Prior to proceeding further with this blog post, I must bring your focus to something that human beings in 2075 tend to ignore as an important fact of life, which will remain true even in 3075.

“One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men/women. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man/woman!”

As the climate change touched its crescendo and humans reached a precarious stage of human development. With the rising water levels in the seas and rising temperatures, it had become impossible to live on Earth and food production had dwindled considerably, leading to iniquitous distribution of life supporting resources on this planet. Humankind was predisposed to self destruction because they had not paid the slightest heed to Mary Howitt’s lines of wisdom:

“Will you walk into my parlour?” Said a spider to a fly.

And, the humankind for some abtruse reason had walked into the parlour of self destruction, and the first seeds of it were sown and further nurtured by humankind's absolute disregard towards several calls made by scientists and a few responsible citizens of the planet Earth, to invest seriously in taking the corrective measures to stop Climate Change and reverse Global Warming. By the time humans realised the need to act, and act with political and social commitment, the fly had walked too far into the spider’s web. Where struggling further, would have entangled the fly in its complex and sticky strings, becoming the ground of its own burial.

But the fly was a little wise, because Gods still believed in humans and in the goodness that They had embedded in them. They believed so, because they were still impressed by the selfless act of Christ when he died for the good of humanity. To me it was one of the greatest sacrifices offered by anyone to elevate the status of fellow humans before the Heavens. So, the Gods still believed in the fly that lay trapped in the spider’s web.

It lay still and motionless, infact very still. So still, the spider could not feel any movement on the web it had cast to trap the fly. And this offered the fly a longer lease of life. Thereby, offering humans the chance to invest in reversing the effects of climate change and global warming.

Alas, the fly cannot lie in this state forever and hope it will survive. That is impossible, unless there is some Divine involvement.

By the time humans realised that climate change needed to be addressed at Global level, with serious pledges made by world leaders to actively participate in this renaissance. The humans had trapped themselves into another web of complexities. They had unknowingly cast another web over the already trapped fly. And this time the web comprised human feelings that had evolved to feel less human and far less humane as well.

Humans had started investing recklessly in Artificial Intelligence at an enormous scale, in doing so they had allowed machines to decide their fate, when it came to few important aspects of human transactions . It was like the story of a king, who had offered his sword to the monkey, to protect him. And one night, when the loyal monkey saw a fly sitting in the face of the king. To make it fly away, the monkey hit the king’s face with the sword. Killing the king instantly!

By allowing AI enabled machines to make decisions on behalf of humans, humankind had unknowingly made the monkey to own a laser sword, leave alone a metallic primitive sword. And it had started hitting us with this laser sword, completely out of loyalty, unfortunately every hit was plunging the fly deeper and deeper into the spider’s web.

The fly was now so deeply caught in the spider’s web that in presence of self aware machines humans were unable to tell the difference between human love and love expressed by machines, the thin line separating the synthetic feelings from real human feelings had been breached and the new generation of human beings was unable to feel love, express love, and the worst of all, man no longer kissed a woman or woman no longer kissed a man. It was an emotional space completely invaded by the self aware machines. This actually happened when humans began interacting with intelligent machines, and gradually the practical and business motivated conversational or interaction patterns had re-engineered human ability to express love or feelings. To the extent that they had entered into a state of latency.

Now, in 2075, human civilisation is facing a crisis that has compounded in the form of Global Emotional Deficiency. Due to this emotional deficit, wars have become frequent occurrences and economic dominance has taken the center stage. And the poor are suffering.

The fly now lies almost paralysed, though the spider has not spotted it yet, but there is every possibility that death will spot it anyway. Right now, in 2075, it literally feels as if life is just one damned thing after another. At least that is how it is for 85% of the world population today.

But then something amazing happens. Something quite wondrous, as if God interfered because God wanted to offer humanity another chance. It was as if the old Muslim belief had come true. “Before God inflicts pestilence on humans, there will always be signs and ways that shall appear as means of guidance to avert catastrophes!” No wonder, Muslims regard Christ as a messenger of God!

The almost exhausted and underground water reserves that were pumped out by human civilisation for many decades, have caused a tilt in the Earth. And then acted upon by Global warming, many regions in the world are experiencing climate change as a blessing, rather than a boon. Though the sun is hotter, they are experiencing more frequent rainfall, this allows healthy and dense growth of forests in these areas. The air in these areas is experiencing a higher concentration of oxygen too.

But, when examined at Global scale, Climate change is making many nations poorer and with rising temperatures, many humans are being forced to live in squalid conditions. There are many regions in equatorial zones that are experiencing complete drought with unforgiving heat waves, leaving the Earth's crust in these regions completely scalded.

But this tilt in the Earth's orientation on its axis has had some good impact on certain regions, and that is a fact no one can deny. But this is not sufficient. And in 2075, few sensible humans had realise this fact, and they form a society that works on restoring the Earth's healthy ecosystem.

They first focus on studying the emotional and social impact of excessive interaction of humans with self aware machines and how it isolates them, and how it evolves their psychological makeup. Wherein the practical value system, always overrides sentiment or emotion based decisions.

Whereas, if the original human makeup of emotions and sentiments is examined there was a perfect balance between being pragmatic and being emotional at times.

Take for example, the human need to seek pleasure from their act of procreation. Which in the animal kingdom just serves a single purpose, to procreate, there is no recreational aspect tied to it. But in the case of humans, there has always been a strong element of pleasure and recreational element tied to the act of procreation, and it is a perfect evolutionary adaptation achieved by humans. Because it helps a couple to bond together and feel connected at an emotional and sentimental level. And it leads to an intense emotional interaction between a man and woman, because in an emotional exchange of feelings or thoughts, it is important to have two individuals whose physiological scales are different. One is a little soft and patient, and the other partner is a little tough and would go to any extent to protect the interests and passions of the partner. while being little pragmatic and patient at the same time.

But in 2075, human procreation has been replaced by artificially bred human race, and pleasure seeking is no more an act of emotion sharing or exchange of feelings. It is only about reaching a climax, almost like drug addiction. And we all know, drug addiction is detrimental for stable and complete growth of the human mind and body.

Here I am not referring to soul or spirit. Because in 2075, you are mocked and classified as primitive if you refer to something like soul or spirit.

Marriages have been replaced by pleasure seeking pods, and few humans have no value or no cause in life, other than being sources of pleasure, to the extent that eventually they feel like machines themselves. Until one day, they crumble under its weight. Because only a machine can bear the weight of emotional monotony, a human being is not meant to experience emotional singularity or monotony. It shall eventually obliterate the stable psychological makeup of that person.

In 2075, humans achieve climax only in these pleasure pods, where one of the subjects is always expected to offer pleasure. And in the advanced stages this person reaches a point, where she feels no more pleasure herself. And she eventually buries this person, her original identity. Only to be resurrected in this pod of pleasure, as a half human and half machine, expected to offer only one thing, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. At this point, she begins to believe she is good for nothing, and she cannot be better than these self aware machines, which perform complex mathematical calculations, pilot super fast airplanes, perform complex surgeries and what not. But this young girl in the pod of pleasure, now resigns completely and believes she has no more value than a pleasure pod. And when this happens, the self aware machine makes an advanced move into infiltrating human emotion.

And it is in these pods of pleasure and many other sectors that self aware machines have made the majority of the human population to believe they are nothing more than pleasure seeking parasites. Whereas that is not true, because it is men and women who made these so-called intelligent machines. But they ignored the fact that the web of human emotions is so complex that if it is interfered with at any level without paying attention to its extremely intricate dependencies, both social and personal, it will always result in beauty transforming into the beast; rather than beast transforming into beauty.

In 2075, many AI specialists, and psychologists have been able to understand this slow and purposefully induced evolution in human population. And they are working on redefining AI protocols to limit its interference with humans at emotional and other levels that have the potential to reengineer human psyche. Moreover, they are working on some formula to define how much exposure to these self aware and virtual machines is good enough time that shall not alter the emotional tenderness and sensitivity of feelings in human beings.

Actually it is the only way to differentiate a super intelligent machine from a human being. An ordinary human being, who is capable of being that extraordinary human being that even million self aware machines cannot match. The true power of the human mind, that becomes the most powerful processing machine only because, prior to arriving at a conclusion, it runs that thought through an infinite loop of emotional “Ifs and Buts,” to eventually arrive at a conclusion.

I wonder what a robotic dog would do if its master did not return from the office.

We all know what the Dog named Hachiko in Japan did. Don't we!

And if a robotic dog would have acted like Hachiko , would it mean anything?

I think it would not mean much, because it is not doing it out of love or emotional attachment that it has developed with its master. It is doing so, because of the algorithm that makes it do what it is doing. So, it loses that value, or that feeling.

Hachiko. The dog who waited for his deceased owner. Almost forever!

But please, let the computer engineers, especially the computer Nerds or AI geniuses, not take me wrong. A person who needs hospice care, would be very grateful to a robot who is able to express empathy and show caring gestures. That will be the right kind of AI. But, flooding human life with so much AI that they start feeling like a computer code, will be devastating.

Because at the end of the day, AI is as good or as evil as the mind of the programmer who codes it. Once human emotions evolve and take an excessively practical course, when it comes to decision making. All due to their excessive exposure to self aware machines. Then I would not be surprised, that this generation of humans: less emotional, less sensitive, less empathetic, but excessively practical, will redefine the code in this hospice care giving robot.

And do you know what the instruction in the code will be?

It will be as follows:

Condition 1

If the subject is walking, eating and less dependent on social welfare. Be caring.

Condition 2

If the subject is unable to walk, and you have to feed the subject and offer every assistance. Consider it a burden on social health care.

In this case:

Terminate the subject.

“Shame, shame, shame!” That will be my only reaction, if that ever happens.

And I do see such worrisome emotional evolution around me, in 2023. Considering my childhood, we were extremely sensitive and caring. And I wonder, in 2075, with excessive exposure to virtual portals and self aware machines. What will become of the human emotion and what will become of the innocence being murdered and raped every day in the name of Pleasure Pods. Maybe some lunatic scientists, too obsessed with self aware machines, would term it as an experiment on how human emotions evolve in pleasure pods. That will be a shame and it will be a grotesque event in human history.

Then Gods too shall forsake us, and the fly would get violent and desperately flutter its wings and spread its legs.

Do you know why?

Because now, the fly really would want to die.

And when that happens, humanity will lose every battle that it has won! And exactly at this stage nature will wage its war against us, and when nature takes affairs into her own hands. I think only the fury of Lord Shiva ( The God of destruction in Hindu Mythology ) can help you fathom its scale of destruction. And it is inescapable, no matter where one tries to hide. Because then you can run, but you can never hide.

Do you know why?

For one simple reason. Nature’s AI is selfless and it has evolved based on extensive interactions and understanding of beings that think and feel. Afterall we are living in a multiverse. So, I have every reason to believe, that nature’s AI is a super powerful algorithm that trains its models based on experiences gained from every verse, and it acts only when it realizes, the thinking species in a certain verse, on a certain planet has let loose the demons of all forms, and if it does not act, the balance of every other verse will be demolished.

Now this may be interpreted by many well-read and highly educated readers of this blog, as an essay or a blog post that is mongering AI fear.

That is not true!

The blog post only aims to caution the community involved in the development of AI to tread with care and read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein once again. And if you can understand the cause of suffering and pain, experienced by Frankenstein’s Monster. I would say, you actually have understood life and the universe. Then please go ahead and write the AI code. I am sure it will be perfect!

I myself love technology, I am obsessed with it. To be honest!

But I will always love my woman more than a machine or technology. That is also true.

If I somehow fail to do so, I will take the trouble of reading Frankenstein once again. By the way, I have read it more than thrice, and everytime it introduces a new psychological side of Frankenstein’s Monster- His emotional cravings, his need for interacting with a feeling that originates from a being at his own wavelength.

Are you getting my point?

Now come on! Do not accuse me of being too melodramatic.

Accept the fact and let us invest in responsible AI, that will be our most trusted companion in our quest for Heavens and Eden as well. Without AI we cannot do it. But we can do it only with the right and well composed AI.

Having said that, let us not rush and hasten when it comes to making AI the ubiquitous technological reality of humankind. Because the Russians say, “haste is only good, when it comes to catching flies.” And you know, the fly is already trapped in the web, so why hasten!

The fly in the web reminded me that we are talking about 2075, and how few selfless scientists are working to make this world a better place. And by studying the impact of AI on human emotions and relationships, they have managed to free one of the wings of the trapped and very patient fly.

Now they are working on crops that are resistant to high temperatures, require less water to grow, ripen in few months, and by using rotational methods of growing crops, they ensure that the soil does not lose its richness and it also helps in managing the uncontrolled growth of pests that harm the crops. And here too they are making use of AI.

AI in agriculture can be a great facilitator and it can reveal facts that we could never know without it. Thus making organic farming more viable and effective.

It is already happening in 2023. And in 2075 it may have scaled into a new AI revolution that supports Global growth, considering the genuine interests and good lifestyle, to be the right of every good citizen of this planet. And not the select few.

AI and technology in agriculture.

And it has not halted there. Humankind is hungry for more, and it is good to maintain hunger for scientific exploration, discoveries and inventions. This hunger should never feel satiated. Then the universe will be an uninteresting place, leave alone the Earth. It will turn into a drab.

With AI, Machine learning and advancements in precision based technologies, humankind has launched new probes into space and the data is very promising. Based on this data the scientists are sure, they have found a few planets ( yes a few and not just one planet ) that can support life. And they are working on compiling massive data that highlights to them the mistakes that humankind committed here on Earth and shall be avoided at all costs on these new planets. It is a herculean task, but they have made considerable advancements and their archives are in the form of digital memory chips that store many terabytes worth of data. And these chips, if stacked together, would in essence help anybody with the right scientific knowledge to create Earth Like ecosystem and biome on any other planet.

But, this needs a lot of sorting and rearrangement in order to sequentiate every data set under the right data category, so that it is easy to refer to when the need arises. Nevertheless, scientific reasoning and steadfastness has once again presented itself as the harbinger of good hope and good times awaiting the human race. That in 2075, is dealing with Climate Change, Global Warming, Self Aware machines and their impact on human emotions and psychology. And as of today, they have no choice but to work collectively as a single race of kind hearted and courageous human beings, who want to make Earth a great place to live in for our children and our grandchildren.

Everyone is doing his/her bit. And I too thought of doing my bit in advance. Because now at 42, I would get less chance or no chance at all to do my bit in 2075.

I know you are thinking that I am indulging in some supernatural act, whereby I am transporting myself into 2075.

Haa haaa!

Not actually. We all can contribute towards a great future of Earth, by doing our bit today, right now. That is why I love my Levis jeans, which are designed to be dirt and dust resistant, and need to be washed rarely.

Now you must be thinking, that by wearing these Levis Pants, how is he contributing to minimising the impact of Global warming?

I indeed am!

Because it needs to be washed less frequently. Less washing means less use of my washing machine, less consumption of electricity, less wastage of water and the chain of subset like events involved with washing just a pant can be endless. It is little acts that matter. We all do not have to be somebody, in order to make a change, you can be anybody and still contribute to good change.

Nevertheless, I took it a little further, by writing my first science fiction novel, They Loved in 2075, that deals with similar issues and topics that shall matter to our future generations. This novel is bold, it has a strong storyline, where the protagonist Saabir, is in love with a beautiful woman. And he has to maintain a balance between his passionate love affair and deal with the longings one inherits by virtue of being in true love. And Saabir also has to save his clan and his girlfriend’s clan from extinction.

The science fiction novel, They Loved in 2075, explores how humans will experience love in 2075. This science fiction novel navigates through the possibility of men and women falling in love with machines, without knowing they are robots imitating human emotions. Will you still dare to fall in love in 2075 or will you strive to tell the difference between a human lover and a robotic lover?

This Sci-fi novel tells the story of a man who falls in love with a real woman in 2075. And how he struggles to feel human and keep his emotional composition intact.

This Sci-fi story also aims at revealing why the man chose to love a real woman and not a never ageing and always beautiful woman with synthetic feelings. In 2075, this might be a choice we all will have to make. Especially our children!

Anyway, do you know the real wonder of these small acts that consider Global warming before taking an action?

The fly has managed to free its second wing as well. And I am sure, if we all keep trying, the fly will be free from the web, before the spider reaches the spot, where it lies trapped. Then, yes at this moment, we shall have developed AI that considers human values as a priority check point, prior to arriving at a decision and act based on it. I would call it AI that is developed based on human morals, feelings and emotions. I am optimistic that good change will take place, and the fly will be free. Just like Irma says, “sometimes freedom does not lie in seeking. Sometimes, it also lies in being sought!”

On that note, I conclude this blog post, but I once again submit to my compulsive urge, to add something excitingly worth pondering on, “The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.” And the AI scientists and Technology evangelists ought to realise this fact. As for the ordinary lot like me, we shall be wise enough to wear our humble Levis Pant that needs less washing. And we shall consider having lived well another day, and having contributed our bit. Indeed the much needed bit, even if it is just a little bit!

There is a famous saying in India, "To form an ocean every drop of water counts!"

PS. In order to maintain the reading pleasure of this blog post. It is on purpose I have used different forms of tenses to construct the sentences.

#climate leaders #climate change #psychology #emotions #relationship #global politics #science fiction #scifi #global warming #water pollution

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waveypedia · 3 years ago

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and now, for my next number, i’d like to return to the classics

Rymin Week Day 7: Domestic

1 2 4 5 6

Ao3

It’s been years since he lived primarily in his van on tour, but Ryan will never not be grateful to always have a kitchen.

Early morning sunlight streams through the soft white curtains as he goes through the motions of breakfast. The curtains were a gift from one sister, the cookware a gift from their old manager before she got promoted. The sleek fridge, which Ryan opens next, was a careful purchase he and Min worked together to carefully pick out, as is the same for most of their furniture. The eggs he pulls out from inside it are from their local farmer’s market, where all the vendors know them by name. Not because they used to be semi-famous rock stars, but because they come by every week toting instruments to serenade the shoppers with.

Ryan coats the pan in nonstick cooking spray and cracks the eggs into it. Salts it. He puts the ingredients away while he’s waiting for it to cook and pours two glasses of water.

Then, all that’s left is the waiting.

Ryan finds one of his guitars leaning against the wall in the next room. Their apartment is chock-full of all kinds of musical instruments they’ve accumulated over the years. After all the fuss Ryan had to go through to get his first guitar as a teenager, it feels both strange and gratifying to see how far he’s come.

One instrument they do not have is a viola. Min has played it on his own, usually on lease from friends, but he won’t play it regularly enough to buy one. Ryan is more than happy with that.

Ryan sits down on top of the counter and plucks a few, soft notes on his chosen guitar. He doesn’t have any particular melody or song in mind; he just lets his fingers play what they wish.

In no time at all, the eggs finish cooking. Ryan regretfully sets down the guitar to flip them and slide them onto plates. Just as he’s turning off the stove, the sound of a door opening down the hall and resounding footsteps reaches his ears.

Ryan snorts.

His husband emerges into the kitchen, hair still messy from bed. Even after all these years, Ryan’s heart flutters at the sight of him.

Min leans down to steal a kiss off the top of Ryan’s head. “Ooh, eggs. Are those for me?”

Ryan swings the plate away, nearly spilling the coveted breakfast. “Of course not. I cook for myself. Never for my handsome husband.”

“Hmm, too bad.” Min grabs a fork and leans in for a bite. “Hey, these are good!”

Ryan laughs and leans against Min’s chest. “Almost as good as your ability to come running as soon as there’s food ready. I swear, Min, it’s superhuman.”

“Only if it’s your food,” Min promises, struggling not to laugh.

Ryan cackles. “Of course. I see how it is”

Min kisses him again and steps away. “I’ll get the table set if you plate the eggs and get some fruit, dear.”

“I can do better than that!” Ryan dishes out the eggs on two plates and cuts some oranges up. He walks over to the toaster and drops two pieces of toast in. “A full breakfast. How about that?”

Min laughs and pulls a tub of butter out of the fridge. “Lovely, thank you.” He peers at the plates. “Eggs and toast. How downright American of you. Would you like some bacon with that?”

“Hey, at least it’s not post-war,” Ryan quips back. He stretches his arms over his head and sets the plates down on the table. “Eh, that would take too much time.” He leans over to peck Min’s cheek. “After all, I would hate to miss breakfast with my lovely husband.”

Min beams. “Good choice.” His wedding ring twinkles in the early morning sunlight.

Ryan sighs dreamily. “Man, am I glad I married you.”

“Me too.” Min’s smile is fond and so full of love it makes Ryan’s heart swell. When he smiles, all his wrinkles soften and curve upwards like little smiles themselves. Ryan loves to kiss each one.

“So.” Min straightens out and pulls out his phone. “We have a practice session at 4 today, booked at the venue for Saturday’s performance.”

“Okay, good.” Ryan nods. “I want to run through the new arrangement Train to Nowhere.”

Min shakes his head, chuckling. “We’ve been playing that song for forty years, Ryan. Shouldn’t you know it inside and out?”

“I just want to tweak some things for this arrangement,” Ryan shoots back, not unkindly.

“Ryan.” Min reaches across the table to lay his hand on top of Ryan’s. Their wedding rings make a soft clink sound when Min’s hits his. “It’s going to be fine. The fans love that song, as do we. We know it well.”

I know, I know.” Ryan squeezes Min’s hand and glances away. His eyes catch on a vase of beautiful purple flowers. I need to water those today, he notes offhandedly. “That’s why I want it to be as good as it can be.”

“It will be,” Min promises.

Ryan smiles. “I believe you.”

Min laughs, reaching across with his other hand to squeeze Ryan’s cheek gently. Ryan laughs, batting his hand away. “Of course you do. You should listen to your husband more often, Ryan.”

“What are you talking about? I always listen to you,” Ryan snorts.

Min waggles his finger. “Ah-ah, that sheet music you bought last week would beg to differ,” he says. “I told you we already had it in a songbook somewhere.”

Ryan crosses his arms, faux-affronted. “Excuse me for wanting more music to play!”

“I don’t care about that. Just spend our money on music we don’t already have,” Min says, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

Ryan shrugs and lets out a small huff of laughter. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Min gets up to clear their plates. “I’m going to go grocery shopping and then call my parents. Do you need anything?”

“No, but I’ll pop on that call if you don’t mind,” Ryan replies, standing up. “And can you grab some cheese? And the-“

“Those crackers you like, the ones that come in the blue box, I know, I know,” Min says, laughing and shaking his head affectionately. “It’s on the list.”

Ryan walks over and wraps an arm around his husband. “Ah, you know me so well. Thanks, babe.”

Min shrugs him off, laughing. “Stop calling me that! It’s not classy!”

“Pfft, okay.” Ryan kisses Min on the cheek before releasing him. “See you in a few hours?”

“You know it.” Min waves and kisses him goodbye before he’s out the door.

Ryan hums softly to himself as he cleans up the kitchen. It starts out as a B-side from one of Chicken Choice Judy’s earlier albums - their third, if memory serves correctly. Four years after they’d escaped the train, when their career was steadily taking off and they started touring outside of North America.

Ryan shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as he wiped a dish clean. “Man, what a time.”

As he works, the tune slowly shifts into something more original and unique. Something new. When he notices the change, he immediately scrambles for a pen and paper. Luckily, there’s a large notebook of blank sheet music in the drawer under the microwave for this exact reason.

Ryan flips past pages of sheet music penned from similar scenarios to a blank page. He leans against the counter, writing down notes and chords and lyrics as time slips away. Before he knows it, he has a full song on his hands and Min’s returned.

“Hey, honey,” Min says, dropping the grocery bags on the kitchen table and leaning in for a kiss. “Whatcha got there?”

Ryan tips the sheet music notebook over so Min can see. “A new song. I’m calling this one ‘Sunsets’ for now. What do you think?”

Min hums thoughtfully as he peruses the notes. “It sounds pretty, Ryan! May I suggest a ukulele rift here?” He taps the third line down as he talks. “I think that would add to the image.”

Ryan grins. “You’re a genius, Min.” He’s said similar statements many times over their forty-year music-writing career, but it never gets old.

Min preens, laughing. “Oh, I know. I’m gonna call my parents in a few, okay?”

“Sure. Call me when you’re ready.” Ryan doesn’t take his eyes off the music as Min leaves.

When he eventually hits a block, he puts away the groceries. He’s just finished when Min pokes his head out of the office door and beckons.

“Hello, Ryan!” Min’s mother greets when he steps inside. “Lovely to see you.”

“You as well, 어머님,” he replies, squeezing into the office chair next to Min. It’s not supposed to be big enough to fit them both, but they always seem to manage. Min laughs and tries to bat him off, but it’s halfhearted at this point. Ryan has been doing it for long enough that Min gave up a while ago. Besides, they both know Min likes the subtle affection.

“Just get another chair,” Min’s father grumbles, not unkindly. His wife gives him a small nudge on the shoulder.

“Leave them alone. Let them enjoy each other’s company,” Min’s mother replies, shaking her head in mirth. “If they’re still in their honeymoon phase after all this time, that’s on them.”

“엄마, please,” Min sighs, burying his head in his hands. His mother just laughs.

At precisely four P.M., he and Min are settled onstage at Saturday’s venue. It happens to be a beautiful outdoor amphitheater with vines and greenery gently climbing up the pillars holding up the stage’s ceiling. The audience area is open-sky and curves gently downward, like a bowl.

Ryan stands in the center of said “bowl”, guitar hanging from his shoulders by its strap. He raises his arms to the sky and spins, taking in everything.

From his place onstage, behind his synthesizer, Min laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Just taking in the sights.” Ryan does a final spin for good measure before turning to face Min. “It really is quite pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Min gazes up at the orange-tinted sky with a soft smile. “Our manager really outdid herself with the booking this time. We’ll have to thank her.”

Ryan clambers up on the stage, silently wincing at the height gap between the audience floor and stage floor. He’s really not as young as he used to be, is he? “Should we send her flowers?”

“I think she really liked the sunflowers we got her last time. They were on her living room table when we visited her.” Min places his fingers on the keys, hovering just above them. “Maybe chocolate, too.”

Ryan laughs. “How cliché. Is there something I should know?” He waltzes over to Min and wraps a lazy arm around his husband, leaning all of his weight into Min’s shoulders.

Min laughs and shoves him off. “Please, do I have to come out to you again? Not all of us are interested in women, you know.”

“And what a great loss to the female community it is. The ladies of the Min-Gi Park fan club will have to go in mourning,” Ryan giggled. “But really, flowers and chocolate sound nice. She’ll like it.”

Min gave him a thumbs-up. “Sound check?”

Ryan gives his guitar an experimental strum. It echoes across the amphitheater beautifully, filling the bowl with sound and vibration. He whoops. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Not until Saturday, or else we’ll have some very unhappy neighbors to contend with,” Min admonishes, laughing. His fingers fly across the keys. “I’m good too.”

Ryan taps his mic. “Then let’s get ready to rock!” His voice booms across the venue. A few peacefully roosting birds take flight, squawking indignantly.

Min rolls his eyes. “Leave the poor birds alone, and you have a deal.”

“Please, we all know they just want to hear us play.” Ryan fishes his guitar pick from his jacket pocket and holds it poised over his guitar strings. “How do you feel about Train to Nowhere as a warm-up?”

“Fine by me,” Min says. His eyes don’t leave his synth. “It’s my favorite song to play with you, Ryan.”

“Well, of course,” Ryan says. “It’s what got us together, after all. In more ways than one.”

Min laughs. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Care to count us off?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to ask.” Ryan raises his pick and grins. “Five, six, eleven, twelve!”

Somewhere in Canada, the sun sets over a practicing music duo in the early 2020s. They laugh and goof around on an empty stage as birds and a few curious passerby stop to watch. The notes of their original hit song, “Train to Nowhere,” grace the evening air.

In the middle of the song, their eyes meet. They do not speak outside of the song lyrics, but an entire conversation passes through their gaze. It’s all they can do to not run to each other and hug each other right then and there.

After all, Ryan and Min-Gi Akagi-Park have lived a lifetime with each other. And they will live out the rest of their lives with each other, happy and content beyond imagination.

i'm not korean so i'm not sure if the words i used for min's mother are right. if anyone knows better and sees i'm wrong, please tell me! the website said the word min uses ( 엄마 / eomma) is the informal way to say mom, and you only use it for your own mother. the word ryan uses ( 어머님 / eomeonim ) is formal and often used for mothers-in-law. eomma is really similar to the hebrew word for mother, which is amma. i think that's fascinating because hebrew and korean are not similar languages at all. lingustics as a whole is fascinating because you can see where languages and dialects split off from each other and where/why that happened in history. it's also really cool to see languages so similar to each other you can communicate with someone else in two different languages. languages also have cognants (not sure if i'm spelling that right) where a word is basically the same across multiple languages. it's really interesting to see in this modern world of quick and easy communication how many cognants we have, especially for semi-recent terms (the technology unit in french was SO easy). anyway sorry for the tangent i just really love linguistics

man i wasn't planning to write for today until i realized i'd overestimated the chapter count and it felt weird to not write aksdgfjs. i hope i can keep to this schedule of writing every day but school will probably put a hard stop to that. gotta get out as much writing as i can before then! i started writing this at like 9pm i'm so sorry if it's messy dkfhjfkd

we've come full circle! this started with baby rymin and now we have much older rymin. poetic cinema........

the euphoria i got everytime i wrote "his husband"......... they are MARRIED gamers!!!!!

this is a callout post for every time i pour myself a bowl of chips at my aunt and uncle's house and all five of them suddenly think my bowl is a free-for-all even though the bag is sitting right there. stop i am not a chip dispensary. do not be min-gi akagi-park leave my chips alone

title is from uhhhh i don't know what it was called (some indie thing) but it was in my last winterguard show (fuck covid i wanted a senior season) and it just popped into my head. or it might have just been a voice line from something i heard it in another show with different music. whatever it's almost 1 am i'll look it up later. i put it on my titles doc (which is 90% song lyrics and which my brother likes to call the "song lyric moodboard" even though it's just a bullet list) out of impulse and nostalgia and never really intended to use it but it actually fits really well here?? who knew

it didn't make it in but i imagine that ryan and min have a parrot named kez and they've taught it some of kez's favorite and most iconic phrases. imagine you are visiting acclaimed musical duo chicken choice judy's house and you hear a parrot squawk at you "Why do you hate fun, Min." another thing that kind of made it in but not quite was that ryan has all those weird guitars. im picturing this one my temporary songleading teacher at camp, who's a professional musician and probably the most famous jewish folk artist out there (which is a very niche group so he's not really famous), brought out once. it was really small and had like eight tiny strings all crammed in together and it both fascinated and terrified me. i have no idea how you can play that without accidentally pressing all the wrong strings all the time but dan nichols can do it so i've decided ryan can do it too

tomorrow is au day... you know what that means... *shoves rymin into my current hyperfixation*

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or on twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

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justlookfrightened · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday surprises

For the prompt: Jack secretly loves surprise parties

“So how did you celebrate Canada Day when you were growing up?’ Bitty asked, carrying the pie to the table. “Was it like the Fourth of July, with parades and fireworks and red and white bunting everywhere?”

“Sort of,” Jack said. “It wasn’t such a big deal in Montreal, because, y’know, Quebec. A few years ago they made it moving day in Quebec just to screw with the government in Montreal.”

“Moving day?” Bitty asked. “Wait just a second.”

He turned to the counter behind him and picked up a small Candian flag, which he stuck in the middle of the pie.

“Happy Canada Day!”

“Euh, thanks,” Jack said. “Moving day is when everyone’s leases end and their new leases start. So thousands of people are moving on Canada Day. There were always fireworks over the harbor, though. Sometimes we’d go see them if we were in town.”

“Well, then, happy moving day,” Bitty said. “So not much like Madison on the Fourth of July?”

“Bits, nothing is like Madison on the Fourth of July,” Jack said.

“I’m sure the fireworks aren’t as good --”

“I have very fond memories of the fireworks in Madison,” Jack said. “Best fireworks of my life. Are you okay staying here for the Fourth this year?”

Bitty shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “The shop’s just getting on its feet, and I can’t really take much time off yet, and that would mean flying down on the morning of the fourth and back the next day. And Mama and Coach said they’d come up to see us for a weekend before school starts down there. We can still go to the fireworks and all here on the Fourth, right?”

“Your parents are coming up?” Jack asked. “Do you know when?”

“Beginning of August,” Bitty said. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure their visit doesn’t conflict with your big birthday celebration.”

“My … what?”

“Your birthday?” Bitty said. “You’re turning 30 a little over a month from today. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“No, but a big celebration?”

“Oh, no, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “I meant ‘big birthday,’ like turning 30 is a big deal. Not a big celebration for your birthday. I know you don’t like that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Jack said, looking down at his pie. “Okay. That’s good.”

“Unless you want my parents here for your birthday?” Bitty said. “I was thinking your parents might come, but … I’m sure my folks would be happy to.”

“No,” Jack said. “No, that’s fine.”

****

“I’m so glad you and Bits decided to do this,” Shitty said, taking another drag on his joint. “You guys aren’t usually around on the Fourth, but the rest of this summer looks crazy for me, and then you have the season coming up. I wouldn’t want it to be too long between visits.”

“Crazy this summer?” Jack said. “What’s up?”

“Work stuff,” Shitty said. “It looks like we’re going to trial against that chemical plant at the end of August, and it’s gonna be like seven days a week getting ready. I already told Lards to prepare for work-widowhood.”

“Yeah?” Jack said. “How’d she take that?”

“I’m not sure,” Shitty said. “You think I’m crazy enough to say shit like that when she’s awake?”

“Haha.”

“No, seriously, she’s leaving next week for a six-week residency at some artist colony in the Berkshires, and then she’s got a show to mount for the gallery at the end of August. I’m not sure she’ll even notice.”

“Come on, Shits,” Jack said. “You know she will.”

“I know,” Shitty said. “It’s just fucking hard sometimes, you know? I mean, it seemed like all the lawyers I knew when I was a kid had lunch and played golf all day. Plenty of time for fucking around. Too late I learned it doesn’t work that way in the public interest sector. And who knew being a successful artist was so time-consuming? How do you and Bits make it work?”

Jack shrugged. It was difficult, with his life consumed by hockey and Bitty’s time taken up more and more by a successful career in -- baking media? Jack wasn’t even sure what to call it, since Bits wasn’t just a baker, just a cookbook author, just an Internet and TV personality. He somehow did all of that, and just this summer had lent his name, personality, and talent to a new shop that sold both baked goods and baking equipment (toys for bakers, Bitty called them) in Providence.

“Remember Bits’ birthday in May?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Shitty said. “The big two-five. Remember how you wanted to throw him a surprise party? That was never gonna happen. Like that boy would ever let anyone else control the menu.”

“I guess you're right,” Jack said. “But I like surprising him. Remember Betsy II?”

“That was sweet,” Shitty said. “And the proposal at Faber, too, you romantic son of a gun.”

“Who told him about the surprise party in May?”

“Uh --”

“Was it you?”

“No.”

“Was it Lardo?”

“Um, she maybe told him not to make plans for that day? Because he was telling her he wanted to plan an overnight getaway because it was the only time it would work with your schedule?” Shitty said. “He took it from there. My understanding is that you caved under questioning.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess I did.”

“But don’t worry, brah,” Shitty said. “If I heard about a plan for a surprise party for you, I would totally warn you. I know you’re not into that.”

“Euh, okay?” Jack said. “But --”

“I got your back, brah,” Shitty said, giving Jack an exaggerated wink and nod just as Bitty and Lardo pushed open the sliding door and carried trays of drinks and snacks to the terrace.

“So what did we miss?” Bitty said. “Fireworks haven’t started yet, have they?”

“Nope,” Shitty said. “You’re just in time.”

****

“Jack?” Bitty asked, looking up from his laptop. “Do you know where you want to go for your birthday dinner?”

“Birthday dinner?” Jack said. “We’re not having it here?”

“Well, since I know you don’t like parties, and thirty is kind of a big deal, I thought maybe we should go out.”

“Who said I don’t like parties?” Jack said, pausing the tape of the last game of the Stanley Cup final.

“Please, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I used to have to beg to get you to show your face at a kegster, and your mama’s told the story about you hiding under the bed to get out of going to that banquet more than a dozen times.”

“I was six,” Jack said.

“I know, sugar, and you haven’t changed a bit,” Bitty said. Then his eyes dropped to Jack’s chest, and lower, and Jack suddenly felt warm. “Except in the obvious ways. I was thinking Hemenway’s for seafood or maybe Waterman Grille or Al Forno with your parents. But it might make more sense to go the night before. Hemenway’s at least is closed on Mondays. Then on the night of your actual birthday, we can eat at home. Steaks on the grill, maybe? Do you want to invite your parents for that, too, or have it be just the two of us?”

Jack wanted to protest that he could want a party even if he didn’t want the debauchery of a kegster, and he shouldn’t be judged by his six-year-old self not wanting to go to a stuffy banquet (even if he still didn’t like stuffy banquets). But the moment seemed to have passed, and really, what Bitty was planning was fine.

Maybe he would get a surprise party for his fortieth, when he wasn’t playing and his friends’ careers were more stable and everyone had more time.

“Any of them are good, but Papa really likes Al Forno,” Jack said. “And I guess they can come on Monday for dinner, as long as they leave early.”

“Now, Jack, that’s not very hospitable of you,” Bitty said with a smirk. “I almost think you have plans. Maybe once I finish making this reservation you can give me a preview.”

He pecked at the keyboard for a few more moments and then closed the laptop.

“Ready when you are, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack clicked off the TV and followed Bitty to the bedroom.

****

“Maman?”

Jack had put off this call until Bitty left for the market.

It wasn’t like his husband was a busybody or nosy. It was just that, what with Jack’s schedule, and the wedding, and Bitty’s career, they were still in the condo Jack bought for himself in Providence when he signed. It wasn’t really small -- it probably had almost as much square footage as the Haus, and only two of them living there -- but it was mostly open-plan and Bitty would know if Jack was hiding in the office to call his parents. Which he was supposed to have done two weeks ago.

“Jacky!” his mother said. “It’s been ages. I saw those pictures you posted from your beach excursion last weekend. It looked like the two of you had fun. But I didn’t know you got a dog.”

“We didn’t?”

“But Bitty --”

“Was playing with a dog in a lot of the pictures?” Jack said.

The dog had run up to their picnic blanket when they moved off the beach proper, into the shady park, for lunch. Jack wasn’t sure exactly what kind it was. It was black and brown, like he thought of a German shepherd being, but much smaller, with long, skinny legs, a pointy nose and floppy ears.

Bitty had immediately started cooing over and petting the creature, despite Jack pointing out that they didn’t know who it belonged to, if it belonged to anyone, where it had been, if it was friendly.

“You don’t know if this dog is friendly?” Bitty had been incredulous. It was pretty ridiculous, given that the dog was more or less washing Bitty’s face with its tongue while Bitty giggled. “And she has a collar. And a tag. Stand still, girl.”

Bitty had still been trying to read the tag, and Jack was still taking pictures, when a teenage girl ran up, a leash in her hand.

“There you are, Eleanor! I’m so sorry! She just jumped out of the car and took off as soon as I opened the door. Eleanor, come!”

“No worries,” Bitty had said, holding the dog while her person clipped the leash to her collar. “We’re always happy to visit with a friendly puppy.”

Jack had been thinking about adopting a dog ever since, if only to see Bitty giggle so much. A dog that could go on runs with him, and keep Bitty company when Jack had to be gone … it might be a good idea. But it wasn’t something to surprise Bitty with. If they adopted a dog, it had to be a joint decision.

“That was just a dog that got loose and came to visit,” Jack said. “Although now that you mention it, I wonder if Bitty might like to have a dog around. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Judging from those pictures, I’m pretty certain he’ll approve,” Alicia said. “Now, did you need to talk about something?”

“Euh, the plans for my birthday?” Jack said. “Bitty wants to take you and Papa to Al Forno on the second, and then cook dinner here on the third.”

“Bitty wants to?” Alicia said. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure why we need to do both,” Jack admitted. “Either would be fine with me. But he seemed set on going out to celebrate because it’s my thirtieth, and a lot of restaurants are closed on Monday. And he was equally set on celebrating on the day of. But he has to work early the next day, so it’ll be an early dinner.”

“You never did like a lot of fuss,” his mother said, not calling him on what he thought was an obvious … not untruth, exactly, Maybe more of a manipulation? “Grumpypants. Of course your father and I will be there for both.”

“I don’t mind fuss,” Jack said.

“Jack, mon coeur, when have you enjoyed people getting together to focus on you?”

“They had a birthday dinner for me at the Haus,” Jack said. “Before my senior year. Bitty made a pie and everything.”

“Were you part of the planning for this dinner?” Alicia said. “Did you even know about it?”

“It just sort of … happened,” Jack said. “But it was nice.”

“Jack, dear, was that the first time Bitty made a pie especially for you?” his mother asked. “Forgive me, but that might have more to do with your fond memories.”

****

“Jack, what kind of pie do you want for your birthday?”

Bitty was sauntering between the farmer’s market booths while Jack trailed along, watching Bitty more than looking at the produce.

“Pie?” Jack asked. “Don’t most people get cake for their birthdays?”

“Do you even know me?” Bitty asked, then turned to examine at a table full of cherries.

Jack accompanied Bitty to the farmer’s market almost every Saturday in the summer. It was an errand, sure, but some weeks it was also the closest they got to a date.

Bitty would probably scoff at that. What did they need with dates, now they were an old married couple? Neither of their schedules permitted a regular date night most of the time, anyway. But in the summer, at least, they had Saturday mornings at the market.

“If you know me, you know what kind of pie I want,” Jack said.

“Maple-crusted apple,” Bitty confirmed, then shook his head sadly. “Have you seen these cherries, Jack? Or the blueberries? There will even be decent peaches up here by the beginning of August. Apples won’t be in season for another six weeks or so.”

It was a familiar argument with no heat in it.

Jack shrugged.

“I like what I like,” he said. “And there are always apples available. You know you’ll make it for me. And something else for whoever wants it.”

“See, you do know me,” Bitty said. He stopped in front of the booth with honey soap but paid it no mind. “Jack, are we becoming old and boring?”

“We always were old and boring,” Jack said. “From the beginning of time.”

“First, speak for yourself, old man,” Bitty said. “Second, I’m not sure whether that was a chirp or flirting. Don’t you know you had me at ‘Eat more protein’?”

“That’s not what you said then.”

“Hush,” Bitty said. “I mean, you don’t have to have the same thing for your birthday every year. Branch out a bit. Maybe a pear tart?”

“I wanted to do something different for your birthday, but then everyone went and told you,” Jack said.

“I’m sorry, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I would have gone along with it and pretended it was a surprise, but I had to get out of other plans somehow. And people did want to eat. Good food.”

“By which you mean your food,” Jack said.

“I like to think I have a reputation to uphold,” Bitty said, stopping to examine some melons. “Truthfully, I kind of wish I hadn’t found out. You give good surprises.”

“Yeah?”

“Come on, you moose. You know I would have married you after you bought me Betsy II,” Bitty said. “Too bad parties aren’t your thing. Could you imagine a party with all your mom’s A-list friends and your hockey uncles, plus your team and Kent and all? It would be the talk of Providence.”

Jack shuddered.

“Definitely not my thing,” he said.

“I know, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “Besides, celebrating on our own has its advantages. Catch.”

He tossed Jack an eggplant with a smirk

Jack groaned. “Really, Bits?”

“Sorry,” Bitty said. “That was bad. I have what I need. Ready to head home?”

****

Jack was set up and sitting at his computer, half-listening to Bitty going on about whether his deadlines for the next cookbook were remotely reasonable, when the call from Tater came through.

“Zimmboni!” The image of Tater on the screen waved. “Hey, Tater,” Jack said.

“Is that little B?”

Tater’s face moved, like he was trying to see around Jack.

“Yeah, Bitty’s here,” Jack said, waving a hand to get his husband’s attention. “You want to say hi?”

Bitty leaned over his shoulder.

“Hey, Tater! You look good. How’s the family?” he asked.

“Everyone is good,” Tater said. “My mother and my sister Tatiana want to visit this year, so they can meet the baker I’m always talking about.”

“I’d be honored and delighted,” Bitty said. “Don’t forget those recipes you wanted me to try, alright? We can work on them together. You translate and I bake.”

“You speak better Russian you think!” Tater said.

“That’s what you think,” Bitty said. “I have to go to the shop. ПοКа!”

“Bye, Bits,” Jack said. “So, Tater, how’s the conditioning? You keeping up with it?”

“Of course,” Tater said. “Russian training every day.”

“And Russian home cooking every night?”

“Of course,” Tater agreed, grinning.

“How’s everything else?” Jack said. “When are you heading back?”

“Not long now,” Tater said. “No plane ticket yet, but early August, probably. We have dinner then, yes? To celebrate you becoming an old man.”

“Uh, we can have dinner,” Jack said. “But it doesn’t have to be for my birthday. Just to celebrate getting ready for a new season is enough.”

“Why don’t you celebrate?” Tater said. “I hear from Marty, Snowy, Thirdy, all the guys, that Jack is having a big birthday and didn’t invite them to the party. I say, ‘You know Jack. He probably isn’t even having a party.’ And they say, ‘You’re right, Tater. Jack hates parties.’”

“I don’t hate parties,” Jack said.

“You were not at Marty’s daughter’s party,” Tater countered.

“That was a kid birthday,” Jack said. “And Bitty had to go to New York for work that day, so I went with him.”

“Right,” Tater said. “But Bitty would be here for your party.”

“I’m not having a party,” Jack said.

“But you could if you want,” Tater said. “So you don’t want. So why do you hate parties?”

Jack ignored the question in favor of saying, “Just let me know when you're coming in, and I’ll pick you up at the airport if you want,” Jack said. “As long as you shut up about the party.”

“What party?”

****

Jack put on the new blue suit that Maman and Bitty had agreed (insisted, more like) that he should buy. He hesitated over the tie: stripes? paisley? miniature hockey sticks that Papa would find amusing?

No. If he couldn’t be sentimental on his birthday, when could he be? He picked up his pale blue tie, the one Bits told him brought out his eyes on his graduation day, and slid it around his neck.

Bitty was already ready, he knew, in a charcoal grey suit that he got from Jack’s tailor. Getting to see Bitty all dressed up almost made it worth it to Jack to put on a suit on a Sunday in the summer. Well, that and the look that Bitty gave Jack when he emerged from the bedroom.

“You always did clean up nice,” Bitty said. He picked up two boxes of baked goods -- a pie in one, and a couple of kinds of cookies in the other.

“You’re taking food to a restaurant?”

“No, of course not,” Bitty said. “The cookies are for Lauren downstairs. She has a shower to go to and she wanted to bring something. They’re shaped like … you know.”

“Babies?”

“No, a bridal shower,” Bitty said. “A lingerie shower.”

At Jack’s blank look, Bitty muttered something under his breath and said, “A party where they give the bride-to-be sexy underwear and tell naughty jokes.”

“So the cookies look like underwear?” Jack said, all innocence.

“No, Jack,” Bitty said. “They look like dicks, okay?”

“What about the pie?”

“That’s for your mom and dad,” Bitty said. “We’re supposed to meet them at the hotel. They can drop the pie off in their room and then we’ll go to dinner.”

That meant going inside the hotel, probably. Which meant parking and then retrieving the car, and pleasantries in the hotel lobby, and …

“Are you sure we’ll make our reservation?” Jack asked. “I’d hate to get all dressed up for nothing.”

“Aw, sweetpea, I think I can guarantee that won’t happen,” Bitty said, reaching up to pat Jack’s face and give him a peck on the lips. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

Jack pulled up at the hotel valet stand, and when he got out, said, “We’ll only be a few minutes. Keep it close, eh?” with a twenty-dollar bill folded into his palm.

“Your folks said they’d meet us down here,” Bitty said, heading into the lobby. His head swiveled and stopped when he caught sight of Jack’s parents at the hotel bar. Both had drinks in front of them. Great. They’d want to finish, and there might be a bill to settle, too.

He followed as Bitty picked his way across the lobby, exchanged a half-hug with his father while his mother swept Bitty into her arms, and then traded places.

“Jack, you look wonderful,” Alicia said, finally letting go and holding him at arm’s length. “You both do. This summer has agreed with you.”

“Thanks, Maman,” Jack said. “You look great too. Um, are you two almost ready to go?”

“The pie, Jack!” Bitty said.

“Oh, and I have something upstairs to show you, Bitty,” Alicia said. “Come up with me and we can leave the pie in the room.”

“Fine,” Bob said. “That’ll give me time to watch the end of this round.”

Jack looked at the TVs above the bar. He couldn’t mean the golf tournament? Who knew what time that would end? But it was that or … competitive cornhole?

“Only a couple more tosses,” Bob confirmed. “If this one pushes that bag in, they’ve got it.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jack said.

“Oh, come on, Jack, relax.” Bob said. “It’s fun. Sit down and tell me about your summer.”

“It’s been more Bitty’s summer than mine, with the shop and this new book he’s working on,” Jack said. “He’s been busy.”

“I remember those days,” Bob said. “When I’d finish the season so tired I didn’t know how I’d even haul myself upstairs to the bedroom, and by the time I was ready to face the world again, your mother would be on location on the other side of the world somewhere. I always wondered why our schedules couldn’t align.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Jack said.

“Of course not,” Bob said. “Any more than it was mine. Hockey season is hockey season, and filming schedules are filming schedules, and cute little shops on streets popular with tourists open during the summer.”

“No, I know,” Jack said. “I wasn’t complaining.”

He stopped at the look his father gave him.

“Okay, I was complaining, but not about Bitty,” Jack said. “Just the way things worked out this summer. I was thinking we could maybe have a party for my birthday this year --”

“You haven’t wanted a birthday party since you were eight!”

“Not a big party,” Jack said. “Just a few people. But Shitty’s in the middle of preparing for a big trial, and Lardo’s off being an artist in residence somewhere, and Tater’s not back yet. Bitty’s too busy to plan anything anyway, and no one would let me plan it.”

“Get it all out, son,” Bob said. “Before your mother and your husband get downstairs. Even if Bitty didn’t plan a party, he did plan this evening for you, and it doesn’t do to feel sorry for yourself on your birthday. Especially when you have someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on you like he does.”

“I know,” Jack said, then caught sight of the time on one of the TVs.

“Oh, no. We’re late for our reservation.”

“We’ll make it.”

“No, we’re late. Already. Maybe I should call them?”

He was picking up his phone when he saw Alicia, carrying a large shopping bag, and Bitty crossing the lobby from the elevator. Bitty was on the phone. Of course he had it handled.

Bitty did not have it handled.

He hadn’t said anything about the reservation to Jack on the way to Al Forno, just squeezed Jack’s hand on the console as they pulled away from the hotel.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight,” Bitty said.

They left the car with the restaurant valet and headed straight into trouble.

“Bittle-Zimmermann, party of four,” Bitty told the maitre d’. “We have reservations.”

The maitre d’ scanned his sheet, made a face, and looked up at Bitty.

“This reservation is for thirty minutes ago,” he said.

“I know,” Bitty said, “And I’m sorry we’re late.”

“Surely half an hour can’t be a problem,” Bob said, trying to shoulder his way into the conversation, folded bill just visible between his fingers. “We promise not to linger. It’s my son’s birthday.”

“Papa!” Jack hissed, tugging at his father’s sleeve like he was eight years old again. “Let Bitty handle it.”

“Yes, Bob,” Alicia said, drawing herself up to full height and looming over the desk. “My son-in-law, Eric Bittle-Zimmermann, has this under control.”

Jack took a moment to be pleased that his mother knew Eric’s name would have more clout than theirs in a restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” the maitre d’ said. “But we gave that table away not five minutes ago. We didn’t think you were going to show up.”

“We can wait for another table,” Bitty said.

“Not tonight,” the maitre d’ said, looking truly regretful. If Bitty had liked the dinner and mentioned it on his vlog, that would have been very good for the restaurant. “We have a large private party coming in. I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

Bitty’s face fell and Jack’s heart clenched.

“It’s fine, bud,” Jack said. “We have the food for tomorrow at home. We can go make dinner, and then head to the store in the morning. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Bitty said. “It’s your birthday. I planned this dinner, and it’s my fault it got screwed up. Your mother wanted to show me your present and I got to rambling on … and why can’t I pay more attention? I’m sorry, Jack. I spoiled your birthday dinner.”

“Bitty, it’s okay, really,” Jack said.

“Perhaps next week?” the maitre d’ suggested.

“But then it won’t be Jack’s birthday anymore,” Bitty said.

“Perhaps the gentlemen would take a coupon for their next meal here?” the maitre d’ said. “For the inconvenience.”

“That’s not necessary,” Bitty said. “It was my fault.”

“I insist,” the maitre d’ said.

Jack took the offered envelope and slid it into his jacket pocket.

“Come on, Bits,” he said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

He ducked closer and whispered, “At least we can get out of the suits, eh?”

“Jack!” Bitty said, giggling through his frown. “Your parents are here!”

“Not what I meant, bud,” Jack said, but he grinned, because he’d gotten a laugh from Bitty.

“Need anything before we go home?” Jack asked while they waited for the car. “Or do you want to just pick up dinner on the way?”

“I think we have all the food we need,” Bitty said. “Maybe a bottle of champagne? Shoot, no, it’s just after six.”

“Just after six?” Bob said.

“Rhode Island law,” Jack said. “No packaged liquor after 6 p.m. on Sundays.”

“So unless you want to drop me at home to get started and drive to Attleboro, a champagne toast will have to wait for tomorrow,” Bitty said.

“We don’t need champagne,” Jack said. “Come on, let’s head home.”

Jack drove again, Bitty in the passenger seat next to him, his parents in the back. It was completely normal, and that thought struck him as odd. Here he was, 30 years old tomorrow, married to Eric Bittle, the love of his life. His parents loved Eric, too, and were here to celebrate with them, and in a few weeks he’d be getting ready for training camp for next season. He wished his 18-year-old self could have seen this future. It was better than anything he’d ever expected.

He would have liked to celebrate with Shitty and Lardo, Tater, maybe Marty and Gabby and Thirdy and Carrie, but this was good, too. Better than he had any right to expect.

He stopped at a red light and glanced at Bitty, who was also looking at him, a sly grin on his face.

“What?” Jack said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s your birthday,” Bitty said.

“Not until tomorrow,” Jack said.

“You know what I mean.”

Jack took Bitty’s hand in the elevator when they got back to the building and held it for the whole ride up. He was still holding it when he got to the door and opened it.

He dropped it as the crowd shouted “Surprise!”

“What the --”

“Surprise, sweetpea,” Bitty said, reaching up to whisper to him. “You can still change out of your suit if you want.”

“Jackabelle!” Shitty was there to claim a hug. He wasn’t dressed in a suit, but he was dressed. Jack probably should thank Lardo for that. And there she was, hanging back, talking to Gabby.

So Marty was here somewhere -- by the pool table, talking to Tater while Snowy lined up a shot. Thirdy was in the corner, deep in conversation with Coach Bittle, and there were Suzanne and Carrie bringing more napkins in from the kitchen.

The island was covered with catering trays from … Al Forno, and Jack could see a maple-crusted apple pie among a selection on the kitchen counter. There was also a cake and some cake pops (for the kids? Were they here?) and it looked like someone (Shitty, probably) had been serving drinks from the bar. There was a bottle of champagne chilling.

Jack’s mother slipped past him to deposit the gift bag on the hall table with the other gifts.

“Happy birthday, Jacky,” she said. “When Bitty said our job was to help distract you, I wasn’t sure we could pull it off. I thought you might insist on leaving for the restaurant too early.”

“You were in on this?” Jack said.

“Everybody was,” Bitty said. “Even the maitre d’ at Al Forno.”

“But the gift certificate …”

“A gift from me to you,” Bitty said. “For when we can have dinner, just the two of us.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of conversations and congratulations. Marty and Thirdy’s kids were there, hiding in the guest room, watching gamers play Animal Crossing on YouTube and coloring, but they came out to help blow out his candles.

“What about your trial coming up?” Jack asked Shitty. “And your residency?” he asked Lardo.

“Those are both real,” Lardo said. “But a funny thing about being an artist in residence: They don’t lock you in. And Shits needed a break for a little while.”

Coach Bittle looked tickled to be sharing a room with so many professional athletes, and Suzanne helped Bitty shuttle food and dishes in and out of the kitchen.

“Told you they’d want to celebrate your birthday,” Bitty said. “They flew in this morning and Shitty picked them up at the airport. They were waiting around the corner for us to leave.”

“You do like parties!” Tater boomed at Jack before leaving. “I knew it! But it took your husband to invite me.”

“That’s because it was a surprise, Tater,” Bitty said. “Jack didn’t know.”

Once everyone was gone -- not too late, because it was a Sunday -- Jack helped Bitty stow the leftovers and wash the dishes.

“How’d you know?” he asked Bitty.

“Know what, hon?”

“That I wanted a party,” Jack said. “A surprise party.”

“Jack, sweet pea, you’ve been moping around this house for weeks,” Bitty said. “All woe-is-me because your friends were busy this weekend. Of course you wanted a party. And you wouldn’t have tried to plan a surprise party for me unless you at least didn’t hate the idea.”

“How did you do such a good job planning it?” Jack said. “I really didn’t know.”

“You don’t have a suspicious mind?” Bitty said. ”Now come on. It’s nearly midnight. Let’s get to bed and you can have another birthday surprise.”

****

Jack groaned when he opened his eyes the next morning. It was late, later than he usually slept anyway. But he’d been up late the night before.

He could hear Bitty in the kitchen, opening drawers and moving plates and cookware around. Coffee was ready, probably.

He got up, dragged a T-shirt over his head and tugged on a pair of shorts, and wandered down the hall.

“Morning, bud,” Jack said.

“Jack, happy birthday!” Bitty said. “Breakfast’s almost ready, and I put all the cards and gifts from last night on the table.”

Jack worked his way through them, shaking his head at Shitty’s selection of boxer briefs emblazoned with the logos of female superheroes and grateful for the small painting from Lardo. There were restaurant gift certificates and a tie from Papa (“You always wear that old blue one!”) and reading glasses from Marty.

Then he opened his mother’s gift. It was a flat box, and it held a red leather leash and collar, along with a gift certificate for adoption fees from the animal shelter.

The enclosed note said, “I think this will be a good gift for both of you, but of course I’m not about to surprise you with a puppy. Take your time deciding which dog to adopt. In the meantime, know that there was also a $10,000 donation in your name to help support all the animals.”

“Bits,” Jack said. “Did you have any plans this morning?”

“Nothing in particular,” Bitty said. “Maybe see my parents at some point. D’you mind if they come for dinner?”

“Of course not,” Jack said. “But do you think we could go to the animal shelter?”

#jack zimmermann turns 30 #zimbits #omg check please #omgcheckplease #my fic

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virgil-writes · 3 years ago

Photo

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

chapter 14 - prince

SFW, around 4.7K words. Heisenberg is a man of absolutely no feelings I guarantee you

Heisenberg has never done this before, not in almost a hundred years of existence, this tangling of limbs and shirking of duties. He has never once given in to such base urges without careful thought and consideration, instead preferring his encounters planned, short and sweet, in and out before anyone could get attached. He racks his brains looking for things to say once she is awake, for ways to tell her that this means nothing and that they will go back to being flirty acquaintances who spoke to each other in riddles. He digs deep into his thoughts to bury his feelings, refuses to acknowledge their existence long before they can rear their ugly heads. He breathes in, eyes closed, to gather his confidence, to build his persona like he did with the dawn of each new day. Whoever Karl Heisenberg truly was, truly wanted to be, he died every morning and was replaced by a driven, heartless monster.

She was a smart woman, she would get the hint. He will unwrap her arms from his torso, put his clothes back on and make some stupid comment about how she had a pair of tits to die for, but he had already been far too generous by gracing her with his presence this long. Then he will smirk and exit stage left, hold the mask until he is out of sight and has entered the forest, and will finally be done with the theatrics. Perfect plan, until his breath catches in his throat when she first stirs, fingers sleepily caressing his chest like she did the night before. He curses her for never making things easy on him.

She seems confused as she pulls away from him, her lazy stretch reminding him of a cat after a long nap. Her face has softened some, the usual furrow of her brow relaxed, deviant smile replaced with one of pure serenity, like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. “Good morning, my lord,” she greets as she rubs sleep away from her eyes, and he is glad to notice her tone has changed, away from the throes of their passion and back to the casual nonchalance they had become used to treating each other with. “Did you sleep well?” He has no intentions of answering and she does not expect it, either, slides off the couch to gather their clothing scattered about. She hands him his without looking at him, dresses in silence as he does the same. The silence is tense but not awkward, like they were both content to ignore the existence of the other and of everything that had happened between them just hours prior. “Are you staying for breakfast?” The implication that she did not expect him to is crystal clear. If there was any hope of staying longer in his mind, she had quelled it quickly with that question, like she was done with him for the day, perhaps enough to last her a lifetime. It stings, but he is glad for it.

Heisenberg busies himself with putting his clothes back on - whoever’s clothes those were in the first place -, oblivious to her pacing around the house. He believes he is out of the woods and her reserves of kindness have run dry, only to lift his head and find her holding a basket with a loaf of bread in one hand and his trench coat in the other. From afar he can see it looks ten times better than it did when he walked in wearing it, cleaner, for one, holes stitched back together. He doesn’t stay and she sees him off with the same joy she has always shown him, watching him as he grabs the trench coat and food, then his hat from a hook next to the door, waving him away like she has done every time. They sign an unspoken contract that dictates they never speak of it again, though the fine print reads that it is not off the table and might once again come to pass if the opportunity ever presents itself. His journey back to the factory is quiet and uneventful in more ways than one, the forest sleeps away the early hours of the morning and his mind is void of thoughts and worries. He cannot help but notice that the world feels different, brighter, more vibrant even, the wind not hostile and instead a gentle breeze.

Heisenberg seems enveloped in a mist of cheer and placidness for the days that follow, all he has set in motion moving along like clockwork. Sturm awakens unbidden one night, for good this time, both a blessing and a curse upon him. He manages to study its performance and sketch improvements, however finds that he has forgotten to install an off switch on the damn creature. The freak hums and whirs night and day like it is singing him the song of its people, sometimes joyfully, sometimes in mourning, and that he is able to identify when the fucking thing is happy or sad is a clear indication that he has been listening to it for far too long. A stab of guilt hits him every time he yells down towards the bowels of the factory to tell the monster to shut it, he needs to work and the noise is maddening, but he is always reminded that he is the reason for it all, he has bestowed them all with a new lease of life and now has to deal with the consequences. This is all for a good cause, he reassures himself, and once the rebellion is over he will see to it personally that those who remain are given a humane dismantling and burial.

Every now and again he visits his little witch in the woods, when his days could have been better and he needs a pick-me-up. They never speak of the stormy night and the things they had done, not unlike he had planned, but speak of everything else, and they slowly climb the steps to an awkward friendship that is never truly allowed to blossom. It felt as if every time they would give each other a key, an intricately designed, golden key that would open the lock in their hearts. And every time one would try to open it, they would find yet another, stronger lock, closer to the end but not quite, mystery maintained. It was infuriating and addicting all at once, and he had grown quite fond of the back and forth that had become the most exciting part of his life.

Happiness is a drug that he should not indulge on, he decides. Amidst his work he plans something other than rebellion, other than murder. Sketches something other than machines, looks out the window on the top floor of the factory to daydream about the cabin that stood long abandoned at the edge of his land. It was large for a home in this ass-end of the world, two floors and an attic, a cellar that was used for coal storage and doubled as secret entrance to a tunnel connecting the house and the factory. A fenced garden in the backyard, a shed for tools and firewood. The outhouse was awkwardly placed, too close to the edge, but he had always thought it gave it some extra charm. Answer nature’s call while being dangerously close to it, as it were. The masonry oven outside had not been used for at least half a century, and the well had probably dried up by now. It had been his home for many years, before Miranda took away everything that was theirs and his life with it, before he began dedicating his life to rebellion and dreams of freedom. His room was the one at the end of the corridor upstairs, with a view of the river and the forest extending beyond the confines of the village. It was cramped and cold, a single floorboard always rattled during the night when the wind hit it, the window never fully closed and his father never bothered to fix it. Still, it was home, or it had been, and he sometimes found himself thinking of the good memories he’d had before it all went to shit.

Could it be home again, he wondered? It would be one hell of a spring project, between clearing the debris, dusting and fixing everything up. Nails and the corrugated metal roof would not be a problem, naturally, and the stonework of the first floor was still intact. But he hadn’t fixed a fence in many years, hadn’t sawed nor sanded a plank of wood in longer still. He had never been very good at cleaning anything except weapons and machines, and interior decorating was simply something that had never gone through his mind. It could be a home again, he mused as he brought the blowtorch close to his face to light his cigar, and maybe it would do him good to step away from the damp vapors of the factory every once in a while. But then again, would it be worth the effort and upkeep? He doubted the haulers would make good housekeepers, and he was content enough with his independent, bare, unkempt bachelor lifestyle. But those had never been his intentions, had they? A home but not for him, a home for her, right where he could see her, where he could walk a few minutes and knock on her door whenever.

All strictly professional, of course. She would be effectively isolated from the village and the outside world. Effectively isolated from everyone but him, and he could keep tabs on her and call upon her services when necessary. It was a proposal she would be dumb to refuse: a home easily three times bigger than the one she owned, a larger plot of land for her animals and garden, peace and quiet, access to the Duke for supplies, and even some fun every now and again if she played her cards right. There was also the matter that she would be… Safer, living so close to him, but that was of little importance. Naturally. It had only just occurred to him. He had not begun at that, no. He will give it some more thought over the next few weeks - neither of them would be going anywhere, now would they?

Mother calls him later that day to inform of a family meeting two weeks and a half away, to discuss usual business. They will gather at Donna’s this time around, and it should give them all an opportunity to parade themselves to the public. This is important, you see, she begins like she always does, for their worshipers grow restless with their absence. Heisenberg often feels like she has trained the villagers as one would a dog: starve them for long enough and give them a meager treat to keep them going, teach them that their devotion is rewarded with small miracles brought by hellfire and the tearing of flesh by lycans. He has spent far too long away from the public eye and it is always good practice to remind the villagers of his splendor, she continues. He agrees to strut down main street, bless every crafter that he comes across, and kiss the top of the head of every snotty child pushed in his direction by their parents. He even agrees to wear his Sunday best: the same thing he wore every single day, but with a shiny pin in the shape of his house’s crest.

He conceives his greatest idea yet in the meantime, a soldier that combines the combat capabilities of Eins and Zwei with the mobility of an aircraft. He has Sturm to thank for it, the incessant spinning of the blades having given him the spark to try and create a flying machine. No propeller blades, he decides as the very first thing when he begins drawing the schematics. He has had enough of the noise to last him a good couple of decades. Unsurprisingly, he is caught in a trance of working and passing out and waking up to work some more in the weeks that follow, entire days spent combing through the scrap heaps to find the right materials. He is reminded that the goddamn bed had done wonders for his back every time he deadlifts another engine to pick apart, but still refuses to say goodbye to his uncomfortable armchair and the wonderful massage of its loose springs.

He figures the name for it will strike him at the right moment, and for now focuses on adjusting the thrust speed, ensuring the soldier will land adequately and not simply crash while airborne, as funny as that would look. While Sturm required a sturdy specimen, this will need someone lighter, lankier, and he finds the perfect specimen in Miranda’s latest failed experiment, a young boy of some twenty years who had been orphaned long ago and had turned to the Black God for guidance. In truth, he was nothing more than an errand boy for Mother, bringing messages to and fro, collecting tithe and offerings for her. Heisenberg is curious to know what horrible sin has led him to where he is now, dead and open on his operating table, a wound bigger than his fist where the top of his spine should be. Cadou had begun to take hold when he passed, tendrils shooting out of the infection, and he saved the recently dead nematode for further study later.

Removing the organs is always the messiest part, and he drops armfuls of guts into a nearby bucket to discard later. The boy has broken ribs and is missing his heart, a sign that he had greatly felt Mother’s wrath. Heisenberg almost pities him, alone in the world with nothing but his faith to keep him going, but sooner or later he would have to learn that was the way of the world. It had worked just fine for him, painful but invaluable. He had played the cards he had been dealt and come out on top. Perhaps in another life he would have reached out to give the kid a hand, take him in and give him a job, so long as he stayed out of his way and kept his mouth shut. But then again, perhaps in another life circumstances would not have turned him to a ruthless bastard only out for himself.

Setting up the tubing always takes the longest, delicate work that requires his full attention and steady hands. It feels like fighting an octopus at the best of times, and it is a fight he does not always win. He blows away a hair strand that insists on obscuring his vision, but all he succeeds in is having more of it fall onto his face, beads of sweat also finding their way down his forehead to pool on his brow and slide onto his eyelashes. He wishes he had an assistant every time he does this, every time he pulls a corpse open and finds that his body seems to get in the way every time more than the dead one does. He wishes he had an assistant, remembers the offer he never made her, and regrets it an instant later.

Suddenly his mind has wandered away from his subject on the operating table and has wandered off into a fantasy world, where his little witch gently pulls his hair back to tie it securely away from his face, where she dabs away the sweat on his face with a cloth that smells of wildflowers. She stands patiently next to him, takes notes and follows orders, brings him refreshments and even gives his shoulders a good rub when she feels he has been working too hard. A world where she awaits him every night after a long day, where she greets him with the comfort of home and a hearty meal. His focus is lost from that moment onward, for he is taken with the need to see her, to spend time sitting quietly beside her near the fireplace. To hold her and watch her fall asleep in his arms, to hear her laughter and exchange glib lines with her after dinner.

Goddamn witch.

The poor boy suffers the brunt of his annoyance when Heisenberg punches the side of his ribs, the body resists but does not complain and helps none with doing away with his wishes. What was he thinking, losing sight of his goals because he wants his cock sucked? This is why it was always so much better to stay indoors, to kill such annoying roaches on sight. His carefully constructed mental balance has tumbled, his nirvana disturbed. He was doing just fine before she decided to kill some random lycan and forgot to hide the fucking body. Bored, but just fine. Lonely, but fine. Incredibly depressed, but f-i-n-e. He tries in vain to return to his work once, twice, and gives up on the third time, finally accepting that it would be impossible.

Perhaps it is best if he gets it over with, no? This was but a momentary stumble. He had all but forgotten about her for the better part of a fortnight, having instead turned inward towards his work and growing his intel network by skulking around and reading through papers Miranda had ‘lost’ in transport. Just as quickly as he had latched onto her, he had let her go, back to the hum-drum day to day of developing his metal army.

Or so he thought, faced now with a burning need to walk, almost run towards the forest to catch a glimpse of her again.

He looks down at himself, for the first time conscious of how presentable he was, and decides that it is probably best if he wears something that is not covered in rotting chunks of flesh. Somehow he does not think she will mind it; she strikes him as the kind of woman who would think it adds to his charm. He changes into cleaner clothes regardless, the same moss-colored shirt she had given him the day he showed up at her cabin. An idea shines upon him as he tightens his shoelaces, and he is soon giving orders over the comm system to all haulers: clean the damn place up. Throw the garbage up and over the railings onto the scrapheap, hide it under a carpet, it doesn’t matter. He wants the place presentable enough for him to bring his little witch over - he will tell her a little bit of what he intends, he will show her some of his plans, and he will ask her to work for him. The cabin would take a while but she could always drop by for a visit. All that he has decided in the span of less than a minute, and he hopes there will be enough time for everything to be set up when he makes his way back, holding her hand tightly as he shows her all of the wonders he has created. He also hopes he can keep up the momentum and not soil the plan by chickening out a while later, though something in his mind tells him that might be best.

Heisenberg stops in front of a mirror-like metal plate to check out his hair and wipe the blood of his face, at last satisfied with his appearance and ready to make his next move. He almost skips through the factory on his way up and out of the garage. He is getting laid tonight, goddamn it.

He is surprised to find the Duke’s carriage standing just outside. It must be a Tuesday, though he feels like he last saw the man yesterday; the merchant always completed his regular schedule around the village by making a last stop near - and in - his humble abode. He had much to discuss with the Duke, things of both professional and personal nature, but now was not the time, and he walked by briskly and greeted the man with a tip of his hat, intent on simply passing by.

He knows something has gone terribly wrong when the Duke cackles, and he spots the familiar tail wag of a furry hoofed animal beside the carriage. Heisenberg stops dead on his tracks then, a cold tingle running up his spine, his mouth dry. He stares at the man, mouth agape, trying to form his question but failing miserably. Had something happened? Had the Duke known about her all along? Had he done something to her? The Duke is the first to speak, his usual jolly self, oblivious or uncaring for the situation that has begun to unfold in front of him. “Ah, Lord Heisenberg! How’s the day find you?” There is a pregnant pause as Heisenberg looks at the merchant and back at the tiny goat that bleats at him incessantly, and the Duke roars in laughter, his massive frame shaking the entire carriage. “Oh, it seems the little one likes you! Two hundred lei and it is all yours, my lord. Should be quite the tasty dinner.”

Prince seems to understand its predicament, and cries ever louder, until it is all they both can hear and the sound almost drives him insane. “Where the fuck did you get it?” Is all he manages to say, his tone vicious, but the Duke does not seem to mind it. He looks around for any other signs of her, the dog, or the horse, a chicken, anything.

“My friend in the woods has sold it to me, of course. She no longer has any use for it where she is going, and thought it best to rehome it.” The merchant’s hand reaches out to pet the goat on the head and the whole carriage almost topples over with the weight.

“You know her.” It is not a question, and though there is much he needs to ask there is little he is able to process.

“Indeed. We have been friends for many years, her and I. Since she was a malnourished little girl living under Lady Heisenberg’s protection. Since long before you were born, my lord.” The man takes a long drag from his cigar as if to give Heisenberg enough time to go through his words, and he is glad for it, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. A hundred and something years, the mention of his grandmother’s name. “She has always been quite the ravaging beauty, however. Although I’m sure that has not escaped your notice.” He can hardly contain his exasperation, not at all used to the feeling that currently boils within him. If that man had ever touched her- “She is quite a talented healer, you see. For many years now she has supplied me with the most wonderful of concoctions.” As if to prove it, he lifts up a bottle of the antiseptic he has become so famous for, gives it a little shake and flashes Heisenberg a bright smile.

“She’s gone.” Again he doesn’t ask, simply repeats the information he has been given, and wishes he had his hammer close by to crush that smirk off the Duke’s face.

“Why yes, she has left, of course. It would not be the first time,” the merchant says with a shrug. “A free spirit she is, always has been. Off to find herself some excitement and adventure, I’m sure. I have told her many a time that the village life does not suit her,” he puts the bottle down and interlaces his fingers in front of him, resting on his enormous stomach. “Yet she has come back every time. Sweet, idealistic Morganna, always so kind for her own good.” In his confusion, Heisenberg realizes he has forgotten to breathe, and inhales sharply, blow after blow though he tries to recover, and the Duke is relentless. “Ah, that reminds me, she has left something for you.” He is no longer listening after the Duke’s mouth closes, far too stunned to process what is happening. The blond man hands him a small wooden box that smells like her, and Heisenberg does not care that he can see how much his hands are shaking as he pushes off the lid. He does his best to swallow the rage and the tears that well up in his eyes, the bittersweet thought that she had remembered him before she parted. The woolen slippers lay perfectly arranged inside the box. “If you wish to find her, I am sure she has not made it very far.” Heisenberg continues to stare down incredulously, and the Duke continues to yap like nothing has happened. He has tuned out completely by the time he closes the box again and raises his head to face the merchant. He might as well have been a shadow, disoriented as Heisenberg was, his face a misshaped blob in his eyes. There is no space for thoughts and he lets himself go instead, anger bubbling so close to the surface underneath his skin.

He grabs the goat before the Duke can protest, tucks it safely under his arm, box secured in the other as he marches back inside the barn and closes everything behind him. Gone? The way down is hazy and red, one foot after the other, instinct taking him through the halls and down elevators. Gone. He feels the haulers’ gazes upon him, and hopes they won’t dare showing vestiges of humanity now, or he will kill every last one and set fire to the corpses. The door to his quarters is kicked with entirely too much force and flies off its hinges, he places Prince gently on the floor in the last showing of kindness he would ever allow himself. Gone! The box is thrown across the room and shatters against the wall, tears in his eyes, a strangled cry coming out of him before he can stop himself.

“She’s gone.” He repeats and the words feel like sand in his mouth. He knows them to be true and it only serves to hurt him further. Behind his eyelids, she takes him by the hand and skips down the stairs ever onward towards the darkness, and he knows he is far too weak to stop it now. He has no tools to explain any of it, the crying and yelling and the way his body has slid against the wall and onto the floor like a puddle of muddy, gooey, revolting water. One last bit of control tells him that he should not care, that she is not important, that this is good, that he is free from her grasp. But its screeches are drowned in the uproar within him, and all he can think of is that she is gone and he misses her.

He is once again alone in the world and, for the first time, he knows what heartbreak feels like.

#Karl Heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #virgil writes #sad day sad chapter #though i really should catch up on posting on tumblr

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

Text

“My Roommate is an Apparition” Christmas Special

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

—————————————————————

“It was a dark and cloudy evening on the twenty-ninth of November.

The end of a Black Friday the likes few would remember.

In an art supply store that can be found somewhere.

A person named Lily almost pulled out their hair.

With sale after sale, and all the price drops,

Poor Lily was tired. She wanted it to stop.

She dragged her feet one after another, with muscles so sore.

It felt like she walked a thousand miles to fall down at her door.

But now it was over, and at last she was free.

To veg out on her couch, and watch shows on TV.

But before she could indulge in being a couch potato,

There was still the matter of her roommate who...

...

Who...”

Lily tapped the pen against her chin as she tried to come up with a good word that rhymed with potato. Her head rested on a cushion against the arm rest of her couch as she slouched back; crossing one leg over the other. One of her spiral notebooks rested in her lap as she turned her head to look at her roommate.

The ghostly apparition stood motionless with a gaunt expression. Their eyes were wide with tiny pupils that somehow weren’t necessarily bloodshot, but at the same time, also bloodshot... but without the blood part. Their unkempt long hair fell down over their nearly non-existent shoulders and down their back, if you could call it that. Anyone who saw them standing next to them would likely jump out of their skin. If they could see them.

They were watching Spongebob Squarepants on Nickelodeon.

It was a rerun of the first episode, and the falsetto voice of Tiny Tim began to fill the apartment.

“Things that bother you Never bother me!

I feel happy and fine!

Living in the sunlight!

Loving in the moonlight!”

“Hav...ing... a... wonder... ful... time...”

Lily could tell the apparition was trying to sing along with its raspy voice. It sounded more like muttering under their breath, but it was clear what they were doing. It had to be difficult for it since they didn’t necessarily have lungs, vocal chords, or any other body parts usually involved with singing (as far as Lily knew). But despite that, it was still happy, bobbing their head slowly from side to side as they tried to keep up with the song.

Lily couldn’t help but think it was adorable; like a Pre-Schooler trying to sing along with their favorite cartoon.

It was the apparition’s scheduled cartoon time, and Lily had just come home after a very long morning, day, and night at work. As exhausting as working on Black Friday was, Lily was thankful to have a nice place to return to where she could unwind and relax. She was also thankful that the rent was surprisingly cheap too; what with the apartment being haunted and all.

She remembered the look on her landlord’s face when she signed the lease. It was a mixture of horror, surprise, and joy in response to finally finding someone willing to rent the apartment. Previous tenants would often report of strange things happening when they lived there. Their TV’s would turn on by themselves at random times. Sometimes the channels would change on their own, and whenever the tenant tried changing it back, they could hear an ethereal whisper demanding that they change the channel.

But Lily weren’t afraid of no ghosts, and took one of her first steps to independent living with dirt cheap rent.

A spooky chuckle came from her roommate as they watched Spongebob completely ruin Squidward’s day ...again. If not for the fact that Lily could see the pale, see-through entity that made that noise, she probably would have found the laughter rather creepy. But she didn’t, and in the spirit of the season, Lily mentally noted how she was thankful that she could see her specter of a roommate.

This train of thought led Lily back to one of the questions she had been asking herself for the past couple months: Why could she see the apparition when nobody else could?

Several possible answers ran through her head. Maybe she had secret powers that she wasn’t aware of? Maybe she was the “chosen” one, selected by the mysterious wraith to be the only person that could see them? Or maybe there was something about them that made them kindred spirits in a way? And if so, what tied them together?

Lily’s train of thought was derailed by the sudden commercial break on the TV, signaling that Spongebob had ended, and Lily knew what that meant. It was finally her turn to have the TV!

“Okay, show’s over. Now it’s my turn to watch something.”

Lily’s roommate gave a disappointed sigh as Lily snatched up the remote and changed the channel to CBS. It was prime time and time for some Hawaii Five-O. Sure it wasn’t the most mentally stimulating television program out there and one could argue it had the same level of intellect as Spongebob, but it was what Lily wanted to watch and watch it she would!

Or at least that would have been the case if not for a tiny spanner in the works. What greeted Lily after changing the channel was not Hawaii Five-O, but a familiar sight that Lily had not seen for a long, long time. Bongos could be heard as the word “Special” spun around colorfully on the screen before resting in place and showing “A CBS Special Presentation”.

A bright blue background with images of snowflakes falling appeared on the TV screen, accompanied by a calming, familiar, song.

“Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays

Welcome Christmas, bring your light

Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays

Welcome in the cold of night.”

“No kidding...” Lily said to herself in amazement. She hadn’t seen How The Grinch Stole Christmas in years. And it wasn’t the live action remake with Jim Carrey or the newer animated movie with Benedict Cumberbatch either. It was the genuine, original, Chuck Jones animated TV special with Boris Karloff narrating.

Lily remembered watching this on TV with her parents when she was little. It was one of the many Christmas specials that would air instead of the usual TV programming at night, and was just the thing for a 8-year old to enjoy before being tucked into bed for a 9 PM bedtime. Fond memories of the Christmas Tree in the living room, glowing with lights, and a stack of presents underneath it came flooding back to her in a wave of nostalgia.

It wasn’t Hawaii Five-O, but Lily wasn’t about to complain. In fact, she thought it was the perfect way to usher in the holiday season after the shopping turmoil of Black Friday. But as she kicked back to relax, she took a look at her roommate and couldn’t believe her eyes and ears.

“Every Who... down in Whoville... liked Christmas a lot.

But the Grinch... who lived just North of Whoville... did not!” said the apparition.

Its face was practically glowing with a warm smile that stretched almost from ear to non-existent ear on her face. Normally, Lily’s roommate was literally quite clear. Its transparent body made it easy to see right through them. But as it gazed at the Christmas Classic playing on the TV, Lily could have sworn that she saw a faint light beginning to emanate from her roommate.

The apparition’s pale, translucent skin looked like it was becoming opaque. A soft, warm glow radiated from its body as though it had just swallowed a night light. And all the while, the apparition spoke along with Boris Karloff’s narration word for word.

“The Grinch... hated Christmas!

The whole Christmas... season!

Now... please don't ask... why.

No one... quite knows the... reason,” the apparition quoted as it did its best to keep up with Boris Karloff’s pace.

“Wow! You’ve got the whole thing memorized, don’t yah?” Lily said with a smile.

The apparition turned around and smiled back at Lily, but this smile was different from before. Their smiles were usually filled with sharp, pointy teeth with an almost maniacal look to them. This smile, however, didn’t stretch across the whole of their face. Furthermore, while their teeth were still pointy, they looked somewhat smaller; almost human, even. It was a soft, warm, friendly smile.

It turned back around and continued to watch the TV classic, and as it did, Lily sat upright and scooted over to one side of the couch.

“Hey,” Lily called out, “care to join me?” She said while patting the seat next to her on the couch. Without taking its eyes off the television, the apparition walked backwards, somehow, onto the couch and then proceeded to sit next to Lily. “C’mere you,” Lily said as she took a throw blanket resting on the back of the couch and draped it around herself and her roommate.

Despite her roommate’s lack of substance, Lily felt warm and comfortable under the blanket. She could feel the faintest touch as the apparition’s head limped to the side and came to rest on her shoulder. It still quoted and sang along with the Christmas classic, but quietly so as not to disturb the viewing experience of their corporeal roommate.

It was peaceful, calm, and comforting. As they watched, Lily looked at her notebook that was now sitting on the floor. The movement of inviting her roommate to the couch had knocked it off. Looking at it, Lily figured out what to put down to finish her little post-Black Friday stress relief poem.

“... But before she could indulge in being a couch potato,

There was still the matter of her roommate who would not let go.

But as mysterious and weird as her roommate might be,

There was something about it that brought a warm smile to Lily.

And so the two sat on the couch in front of the TV,

Enjoying their time together as it was meant to be.”

Lily made a mental note to write that down once the show was over...

...but unfortunately forgot.

#reddpenn #my roommate is an apparition

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catgirlthecrazy · 5 years ago

Text

Imposter Syndrome

Fanfic partially inspired by episode 161, and also these excellent bits of Archivist Sasha AU/Not!Jon related fanart by @skyberia

AO3

Summary: Martin doesn't have much left of the real Jonathan Sims. He doesn't even have a face. Not a real one. Just a recording on a tape recorder.

************************

"Come on…" Martin strains against the super glue cap. "Come on." The damn thing won't move. Frustrated, knowing it's a dumb idea but with no better ones to hand, Martin grips the cap between his teeth and twists.

"What are you doing?"

Martin yelps and fumbles the glue bottle. He frantically grabs for it, but his flailing arms just knock the tape recorder off the table and send it clattering onto the floor. He scrambles to pick it up. Please don't be broken, please don't be broken. There doesn't seem to be any damage. No new damage, anyway.

(He fails to notice that the record button was pressed on by the fall)

Jonathan Sims, Martin's fellow archival assistant and target of an extremely inconvenient crush, raises an eyebrow at him. "Um, sorry, I didn't see you there. You startled me." Curse Jon and his inconvenient good looks. He'd always had a weakness for dark hair and hawklike features.

Jon grunts. "I suppose that's to be expected, given the circumstances." He glances around the storage room. "No worms?"

"What? No, not in here, anyway. I've seen a few around the institute. Been stomping on all of them. Kind of satisfying, really."

Jon grimaces. "Lovely. You never answered my question by the way."

Martin racks his brain, but the last few minutes are a fuzzy, giddy panic to him. "Sorry, which question is that?"

Jon makes an inpatient noise. "What you were doing just now." He motions with his hand.

Martin glances at the tape recorder. "Oh, that. Just trying to fix the tape recorder."

"You? Fix a tape recorder? I thought your degree was in parapsychology."

Guilt gnaws at his insides. Martin does not want Jon thinking too much about his qualifications. "It's nothing complicated! Just one of the buttons broke off. Thought I'd try and glue it back on." He looks at the glue bottle morosely. "Or at least, I was. This seems to be glued shut."

"And you thought you'd pry it off… with your teeth? You do realize that's a good way to end up in A&E with your mouth glued shut." The raised eyebrow is back. He's good at that. Unfairly good at it. It makes Martin's insides leap with excitement. It also makes him want to curl up in a corner and die of embarrassment.

"I know, I know, it was stupid. I'm just frustrated, I guess."

"Understandable, I suppose. Not exactly pleasant accommodations here in storage." Jon pauses. "Are you alright down here? Do you have everything you need?"

"What, me? Oh I'm fine. Totally fine. No need to worry about me." He laughs nervously.

"I believe current circumstances have proven there is plenty of cause to worry." Jon coughs and looks away, his cheeks darkening. Martin has to suppress a lovesick grin. Jon always does this when he crosses his own personal definition of professional boundaries. Which as far as Martin can tell, encompass pretty much anything approaching genuine friendship. Not that Jon is very good at staying inside those boundaries these days. Not since the Prentiss incident.

"Anyway," Jon says, recovering himself. "Do you still have those files on Pinhole Books? Sasha said she'd assigned them to you." He's all business now, as if he hadn't just unbent enough to be outright friendly.

"Those? I think they're somewhere in my desk. Why?"

"Just looking into a few things related to Leitner."

"Alright. I'll try to find them after lunch."

Jon nods, and starts to leave, but hesitates. "You might want to try hot water." He leaves.

Martin heaves a heartfelt sigh. Then he realizes the tape recorder has been recording the whole time.

***

Months later, Jane Prentiss attacks. Jonathan Sims flees into Artifact Storage to hide. Something else comes out.

***

"Here you are Martin."

Martin blinks bleary eyes at the steaming mug that's just been set in front of him. He looks up to see Jon, a kind expression in his eyes. "You made me tea?"

"Of course." Jon smiles down at him. "You do it for me often enough. Seemed only fair."

"Wow, um. Thanks." Martin sips the tea. It's brewed exactly how he likes it: hot and strong with plenty of cream and sugar. "This is… this is really good!"

"Glad to hear it. And how've you been doing? It must be good to have your own place again."

"Not bad. Got a new flat not far from the old one." He'd lost the lease on the old place during his months in the archives. Not that he could have stomached going back there. There might still be worms. "Still unpacking boxes from the old place. At least the neighbors are quiet."

Jon nods. "Say, Tim and I were going to step out a bit early for drinks tonight. You want to come?"

Martin straightens. "Y- yeah, that'd be great." At that point, Sasha pops in with questions about the Herbert Knox file, and the conversation ends. Jon gives him a little wave and wanders back to his desk.

It isn't until later that Martin realizes: the rushing giddiness is gone. He'd had an entire conversation with Jon being nothing but nice to him, and his insides hadn't done one single swoop. He's still plenty fond of the man, but only that. Is his crush evaporating already? That was quick. Martin had expected to be pining after Jon for months yet.

It's probably for the best. Nothing would have come of it, except possibly Martin making a fool of himself. More of a fool of himself. And really, it's remarkable Martin ever had a thing for him to begin with. He doesn't usually go for blond hair.

***

Sasha takes Tim and Martin out to lunch. That's not particularly unusual. Jon is out following up a case, so he can't come, but that's not unheard of either. It isn't until she leads them away from their usual place and towards a park that Martin worries. He's not at all prepared for what she tells them.

"What do you remember about 0070107? Amy Patel's statement?"

Martin and Tim glance at each other. "That's the one where her neighbor was eaten and replaced by an evil drain pipe, right?" Tim said.

"I remember something about… changing photos?" Martin ventures.

Sasha pulls out a tape recorder. She doesn't look at it as she presses play. She doesn't even look at them. She's staring at some indefinite point in space to Martin's left, like it's a window to hell. The recorder plays.

"You're aware it's pronounced Kuh-ly-o-pee, right?" A man's voice, acerbic and dry, that Martin doesn't recognize.

"Really? I've always heard it pronounced ka-lee-o-pee." Sasha's voice.

"I suppose technically there's no correct pronunciation. But the organs are named after the Greek muse Calliope, so…"

Tim frowns. "Isn't that Leanne Denikin's statement? Who's that you're talking to?"

Sasha closes her eyes. "Jonathan Sims. The real one."

***

It takes them a week to find a way to deal with NotJon. During that week, Martin has to pretend that nothing has changed. That he isn't aware that his coworker and one time crush has been replaced by this… thing that calls itself his name. Martin has to smile when he says hello. Thank him when he brings tea. Laugh when he tells a joke. Just like normal.

(Were any of those things normal Jon behavior?)

Sasha's background in artifact storage provides the answer: an old diving bell with a penchant for disappearing people to infinite crushing depths. In his nightmares, Martin can still the the way the thing distorted, when it realized it had been caught. The way its limbs stretched into a grotesque parody of the human form as dark water sucked it in.

And then… things are normal again. There isn't even a police investigation. Jon apparently had no surviving family to raise a fuss about his disappearance. They get drinks, but even that is hard. It's hard to remember which of their fond stories belong to the real Jon, and which to the imposter.

***

One day, Martin finds an unmarked tape in the storage room. Thinking it's an old poetry tape he forgot to label, he pops it in a recorder to play. He could use a pick me up.

It's not poetry. The recording starts with a loud clatter, like the recorder being dropped. Then, Martin's voice. "Um, sorry, I didn't see you there. You startled me ."

"I suppose that's to be expected, given the circumstances ." A man's voice. Acerbic and dry. Martin can't breathe. He remembers this conversation. The voice on the tape is saying all the words that Martin remembers. It's not the same voice.

How long has this tape been sitting here? NotJon had hidden all the tapes containing the real Jon's voice, but apparently he'd missed this one. If Martin had found this earlier, if he'd managed to keep his poetry tapes in some kind of order for once … But Jon had already been dead by the time Martin had first met the imposter. His research on the NotThem made that abundantly clear. They might have caught on sooner. But it wouldn't have saved him.

"You never answered my question by the way."

"Sorry, which question is that?"

God. Had it really been that obvious, how much he'd liked Jon? Martin on the tape sounds like his head has floated off like a child's lost balloon. Jon's annoyance is audible even via tape. He remembers recognizing it as cover for genuine concern. It's so totally unlike the kind, smiling man Martin has known for the past year. How the hell did he never notice the switch?

Maybe he had. Hadn't his crush dissipated around that time? That makes Martin queasy to think about, but he clings to it anyways. That crush might be the truest thing he has left for Jon.

"Are you alright down here? Do you have everything you need?"

Martin blinks away wet, stinging tears. He remembers clear as day the kind and concerned look on Jon's face as he'd said these exact words. Except… those memories were fake. Had the real Jon looked at him like that? What would that even look like? Martin still doesn't know what the real Jon looked like. All he has is Melanie's vague description ("Short. Greying hair. Bit of an arsehole. Definitely not white."). All Martin's photos show only the imposter. He hasn't been able to find any Polaroids. God knows he's tried. He spent a week tracking down old yearbooks and photo albums and anything else he could think of. Plenty of photos of the imposter at varying ages. Nothing else.

Martin tries to construct an image of Jon. Take the few details he does have and paste them over the memories of the imposter. It feels less real than the fake.

Maybe that's the real horror of this monster. When someone you care about dies, you can normally take comfort in your memories of them. The NotThem has stolen that from him. No, worse than stolen. Corrupted. Taken Martin's memories of Jon and plastered them over with a false, smiling face.

All he has now is a tape and a voice.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #archivist sasha #notjon #my fanfic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #my post

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn’t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

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kessielrg · 3 years ago

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Comeback Kid: Part 2

Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom and @animacreates are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore?

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,398

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

One of these days, Sabrina was going to have to ask Brain what the name of his cologne was. In the same breath, she needed to harass him on how much he used on a normal day. The cinnamon scent lingered on the still dryer warm t-shirt she had stolen. It was comforting. For once in her life, she was glad not to be surround by her purple obsession. The scent of lavender may be calming, but at the moment all it was going to do was remind her of the apartment.

And of Ventus.

Good thing Brain wasn't as vain as she was- the only mirror he really had was in the bathroom, attached to the medicine cabinet. If Sabrina had a full body mirror right now, she would have admired just all the ways she could have made Ven jealous. Brain's shirt didn't fall very low on her, but the old leggings she found were enough to cause a direct gaze to her butt. She was almost confident with herself again. Almost. Purposely being alluring to someone didn't mean the same if you didn't actually have someone to allure.

Sabrina grimaced to herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair a bit for something to do. She couldn't look herself in the eye. The last time she looked at herself in a mirror was when she skipped out on Ven. It's only been a day, and it still made her flinch. She had to leave the bathroom before she started to panic again. She went to the living room to find Brain sitting on his couch. The TV showing off some livestream on how to jailbreak a certain console. Sabrina walked up and placed her arms on the back of the couch.

“Could you hold off on being a blatant nerd? You're not even paying attention to it.”

Brain laughing, craning his neck to look up at her. “My house, my rules.” he told her. Then he got a good look at what she was wearing, and laughed. “And here I thought I was done with girls stealing my shirts.”

Sabrina let out a loud, incredibly fake gasp. “You had a sex life? Wow!”

“I could have told you about her if you had just asked. We dated for about a year. Not that I think I would have let you two share a room- you'd scare her.”

“I scare a lot of people. It's not even a challenge anymore.” Sabrina smirked. She moved around to sit next to him. Once she was comfortably sitting, she then asked, “So she was a good one?”

“Very good.” Brain agreed with a wide, incredibly fond, grin. Sabrina immediately recognized it as a grin of true love and scoffed.

“Oh shush, you.” her brother teased, forcing her to lay her head on his chest. She struggled for a moment out of annoyance. When she finally gave up, that was when Brain removed his hand from her head. Instead of sitting back up, though, she remained leaning on him. Brain did pick up the remote to change the TV setting so they could watch something on live broadcast. From there, the duo sat in a peaceful silence.

During the change between shows, Brain laid his head against Sabrin'as in thought.

“Hey Wabi-Sabi.” he mused. His voice was rather soft.

“Yeah?” she replied, her attention not leaving what was on the television.

“Do you remember, back before old Oz took us in, and we tried to spend a night out on the playground at Walt Memorial Park?”

Sabrina shifted a bit in her spot. Her face slightly darker than before as she asked, “Was that before or after the time we almost got caught by some officer around 2 AM?”

“You know what? I think it was that day.” Brain snorted. “But way before that, before the sun went down. Do you remember what we talked about?”

Admittedly, she had to close her eyes to try to remember. They nearly snapped open again as she realized, “It was about Mom, wasn't it? Why she left us.”

Brain gave her a solemn nod. “Not going to lie Sabi, I bluffed about a lot of that stuff. I wasn't there when Mom made the choice. I barely understood that she was the one who even made the choice to keep us together. Back then, I just assumed that they kept siblings together because who wouldn't? But I had to tell you something that night. You had just run away from another family. You were dead convinced that you couldn't be loved.''

“Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” he informed her with a grin. “Just thinkin' out loud, I guess.”

“Liar.” she spat, purposely using her elbow to poke at his side. Brain didn't refute the notion. If anything, he just laughed.

“So,” Brain then said, “What's your game plan for the next month? Oswald cashed in all that overtime and vacation pay you had. I can't see you just jogging between here and the old man's house everyday.”

“Shows what you know.” his sis huffed. “Just for that, I think I'm going to have you personally move all my stuff here.”

“What are you doing with the apartment, speaking of?” Brain asked.

“I don't know.” she admitted in a half grumble. “I'd let the lease run out, but that's still for another four months.”

“You really think you two will apologize between that time?”

Sabrina didn't answer. Instead, her face twisted into one of absolute disgust.

“Never said that.” she hissed.

“Sure, sure.” Brain laughed. “Just don't want you sitting at home with old Hollywood movies and ice cream, that's all.”

“Do you not know me at all?” Sabrina demanded, shoving him with enough force to make him move like a bobblehead for a moment. Brain's mirth did not let up. Sabrina gave her brother another disgusted grimace, but his words stuck with her.

Later on, while debating if she should clear her phone of certain numbers, Sabrina stopped scrolling through to see the name of her ex-boyfriend, Max. Max had been her first serious boyfriend, and they had managed to stay on good terms after the breakup. Sabrina made a single second choice, leading to her listening to the phone ring over as she waited for him to answer. She felt kinda dumb while waiting- was she really that self centered to think tha Max would have the time to even...

“Hey Max.” Sabrina greeted, almost in surprise, when he picked up the phone. “Yeah, I know it's been awhile. That's actually why I'm calling. You want to go to that little tea shop on Main Street tomorrow? I get it if you have other places to be since it's last minute...”

There was just one thing she could always count on in Max; he was patient when the situation called for it. Hearing him on the other end brought up a sense of relief she got from only a select few individuals.

“Thanks Max.” she sighed. “I just… need someone to talk to someone that isn't family. Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'll tell you more later. Bye.”

Sabrina let out a long sigh. Well, that was one bandaid ripped off. Now to deal with the other; getting new clothes.

. . .

This island really was kinda small when you thought about it. She just hoped that no one Ventus knew would recognize her. Then again, the clothes she bought yesterday were darker colors meant to blend in with the crowd. If they managed to recognize her, hopefully she'd be long gone before they could flag her down. Seeing Max casually checking his phone outside the tea shop brought Sabrina a massive sigh of relief.

“Hey Max!” she shouted at him. He looked up and grinned at seeing her.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted with a grin. Once they were close enough they shared a rather heartfelt hug. “You wearing heels today? I knew you had legs for days, but I could've sworn you were shorter than this.”

“Nice try.” Sabrina smirked. She stood a bit taller over the fact that Max was several inches shorter than her. His height was perfect when they were dating- considering what he was nearly in direct eye line of. “You know I've never worn heels around you.”

“I used to be taller than you.” he jokingly pouted.

“Yeah,” she snorted. “For a whole summer.”

Max went into a laugh that was so light and joyful that Sabrina gave a small half smile. Bouncing more banter off each other, the duo headed on into the tea shop. Max found them a corner table near a back window.

“Anything look good?” Sabrina asked as they looked over the menu.

“Haven't had a tea party since I was swindled into one as a kid.” Max mused. “So I guess whatever you want to eat, and I'll take a cup of coffee.”

“How come you're only really adventurous when it comes to extreme sports?” Sabrina teased as she flagged down a waiter.

“Hey, if it's not broke, don't fix it.”

Sabrina just shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

“Welcome to Hightopp & Kingsleigh!” the server girl greeted. “May I recommend the earl grey this afternoon? Fresh from the pot!”

“No thanks.” Sabrina callously told her with a flick of her wrist. “We'll take a pot of peppermint rooibos, a baker's dozen of ladyfingers, and a single black coffee.”

“Sure thing!” the server girl agreed, writing it down on the notepad before heading to the back kitchen.

Sabrina and Max continued to have idle talks with themselves while they waited. There was no one else in this world that Sabrina could tolerate meaningless talks than with Max. They both said whatever was on their mind as it came. Thankfully, time away meant that they had plenty to reflect on. Unfortunately, it meant that at some point, current matters were going to be brought up as well.

She should have really asked to have a refill of hot water for the tea pot before even breathing Ventus's name.

“You just left him?!”

Sabrina groaned as she rubbed her temples. “Yeah...” she groaned. “His dad… I just hate his dad so much, Max. Then he started talking about marriage, and trying to convince Ven into whatever shady deal he's got going next, and it was just… Just…!” She looked up at Max to give a gesture of strangling an invisible neck, and it was enough to convey the message.

“All because your least favorite coworker was getting married as well?”

“And, like, everyone else around us! Ven's brother, two other guys from the station. How about we just chill for a hot second and realize that a ring isn't the only indicator of a good relationship?”

“You really should have gotten chamomile.” Max noted as he watched Sabrina take a rather long slip of her tea.

“Peppermint's better for stress.” she shot at him.

“If you say so,” Max replied, throwing his hands in the air to show innocence. Sabrina glared at him, but relented with a heavy sigh. Max looked her over. She had gone back to rubbing her temples and muttering rather unkind things under her breath. He had never really seen her in conflict before- or at least, this much conflict. Which meant he had to ask. Someone had to.

“Would things really change that much if you did marry him?”

Sabrina clung to the side of her head, her fingers clenching in her hair.

“No.” she finally admitted in a small grumble. “Just a different check box to fill when tax season comes around. It's the only excuse I can really think of. We're already living together, have at least one joint bank account because of it, and all that domestic bliss. We even have a chore chart, like a bunch of kids.”

“So what's holding you back?”

Sabrina grimaced -her teeth grinding- as her whole body tensed. Carefully, Max placed a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the sole intention of smacking him away. But in seeing his sincere expression, she nearly started crying.

“Maxie,” she quietly told him “Is it bad I'd rather give him a kid than tie the knot?”

“Definitely unorthodox.” he mused with a solemn nod. “Maybe they feel like less of an obligation? You know the deal; some parents just drop their kids off to whoever, or just don't pay attention to them. Then they turn around and brag they're the best parents ever.”

“I can't do that to him.” she heavily sighed. “I just can't. And even then, I don't think I'm ready for a kid. Or any drama that happens during or after the pregnancy. Maybe when I'm 30? But doing so now just makes me sick.”

“Ah,” was all Max could say. He went into thought over this development. When a new idea came to him, he snapped his fingers as if he had solved a major mystery. “You said Oswald's making you take the next month off from work, right? Maybe it's time for a change.”

“Max,” Sabrina told him, even rather condescendingly placing a hand on top of his. “I am not going full Britney Spears and shaving my hair off. The mental breakdown was enough.”

“No,” he laughed, “Nothing like that. Look, you used to love dancing. Right? Roxanne is a teacher at the local dance studio. She mostly teaches the younger kids, but she's been itching for private lessons in her off time. Go take the edge off a bit. Do some pivots off the mirror, or spin around a lamppost for a hot second. Be that dramatic princess I know you are. Be yourself. I mean, it's not like Oswald's gonna let you head back into work right away anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Next you'll be telling me that I should start writing a novel.”

“Well, I mean, if that's what you need...”

It hurt, but Sabrina forced herself to laugh. She looked up at Max and just smiled.

“I can't believe I know a lot of good guys.” she laughed, leaning over a bit to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Maxie.”

Max let out a shy little laugh as his face lit up a scarlet red.

#writing #writing stuff #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #kh fanfiction #kingdom hearts fanfiction #fanfic #kh fan fic #fan fiction #fan fic

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maryjancwatson · 4 years ago

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IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Mary Jane Watson

FACECLAIM: Madelaine Petsch

AFFILIATIONS: At the moment, unaffiliated.

AGE (physical age as well, if different): 24

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? N/A

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?: Mary Jane very recently snagged a job at the UN in Sokovia as their Goodwill Ambassador. Mary Jane is also working with a local charity, both in relief work and working to raise funds independently due to her following on social media platforms.

IF YOUR CHARACTER LIVES IN THE FORTRESS, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? : Maybe one day she will return to being Tony Stark’s coffee bitch.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM: + Passionate: Anyone that meets Mary Jane knows that she has passion, as it’s clear within the first five minutes of talking to her. She’s passionate about everything: coffee preferences, movies vs. books debates, and in particular, Broadway shows. It goes deeper than that, though, and that becomes clear in knowing her better. Mary Jane practically bleeds for things that she believes in. She gives 110% into everything she does, and it shows. + Adaptable: Mary Jane grew up in an ever-changing environment, and it turned her into a person that can roll with the punches. She’s able to adapt to situations quickly, and is able to think on her feet. She can stay relatively unphased with change and adapt accordingly. + Charismatic: Mary Jane is a people person. She spent so much of her childhood and adolescence moving around that she had to learn how to socialize quickly, and it made Mary Jane into a social butterfly. She knows how to talk to people, knows how to make small talk and easily does the back-and-forth with just about anyone. - Hot-headed: There is no way around it: Mary Jane Watson has a temper. She goes from 0 to 100 in the blink of an eye, and sometimes struggles coming back down to 0. It’s not easy to light the flame under her and set her alight, and it’s something she’s been working on since childhood. Even on the rare occasions where she does manage to keep a lid of the explosions, her facial expressions give it all away. - Commitment-phobic / flighty: Mary Jane doesn’t like to stick to one thing or one place for long, and sometimes has trouble sticking to things. While she gives 100% in passion, sometimes it’s a solid 60% in commitment. She dropped out of college, almost dropped out of high school a few times before that, and never signs more than a six months lease. Most of her romantic relationships have ended poorly because Mary Jane never knows what Mary Jane wants, and she starts to feel claustrophobic when things get tough. This is more on a personal level. Professionally, she sticks to her guns a little more. - Selfish: Mary Jane is always looking out for Mary Jane. She’s trying to do better, but her bottom instinct is always to do what’s best for herself. She’s scrappy, as one needs to be in the showbiz world, but it impacts her personal relationships as well.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Mary Jane is very human, and possesses no super-human abilities. However, she’s semi-famous with a solid social media following! (if only that were a super power) MJ is charismatic and highly organized, and has a leadership quality to her. She enjoys organization and administrative-type tasks, and is a go-getter to get shit done.

WEAKNESSES: Again, MJ is definitely human. I would say her strongest weaknesses are her fear of commitment and her tendencies to be selfish, as this only gets in her own way of what she wants. Mary Jane is also a chronic over-thinker, and can think herself into a box at times.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER? MJ is a spitfire and my spirit animal. She’s feisty and fiery and I love how she’s always unapologetically herself, even when it shoots her in the foot. She’s not the traditional-type character to bring to Sokovia considering she is very much a civilian, but I think her personality can definitely bring some fun.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA? It’s a little complicated. She applied for a job at the UN in Sokovia to be their Goodwill Ambassador, and somehow someway she’d gotten through the first several rounds of interviews. She had gotten a job with a charity working out of Sokovia for the moment as well, as a back-up just in case they went with someone else. But, surprisingly enough (or so it felt to her), she’d gotten the job. The charity work and the Goodwill Ambassador job went hand in hand, and MJ found that it was more joy-bringing than she’d thought it would be.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT? This isn’t exactly applicable, considering Mary Jane is most definitely a citizen, however she would certainly not have if she was on the other side.

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER: MJ is a chain smoker. She’s tried to quit, though those have only ever been passive attempts at best. She does not do well when she’s off her nicotine. She’s also a fan of the other kind of mary jane, if you catch my vibe. MJ blogs, has a YouTube channel, and practically lives on TikTok. She’s verified on her social media platforms, and has a pretty big following. She still has fans from her Broadway runs and from her short-lived fame on Netflix, and so she does her best to stay relevant and keep them despite her current break from acting. The term ‘social media empire’ comes to mind, even if she feels weird about her claim to fame. MJ lives in high heels and generally dresses nicely. She has a very firm belief that first impressions matter most but all impressions matter. She always wants to look like hell on wheels, even if it’s impractical at times. She usually saves jeans and t-shirts for time at home only, and even then finds herself more comfortable in a dress. Despite having a party girl persona and having dropped out of college, Mary Jane is intelligent. She excelled in history and English courses in high school and in college alike, though her passion was in performing. She’s obsessed with trivia games and trivia-type TV shows. Wheel of Fortune is absolutely her favorite. She’s also super fond of reality TV, the more mind-numbing the better.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: Maybe a potential Iron Spider or Spinneret arc? I love civilian!MJ, but I think this would be interesting. This would be a little complicated and would require a lot of thought and plotting, but maybe down the line! IS THERE A THEATRE/DANCE PROGRAM IN SOKOVIA? BECAUSE MJ WOULD BE SO DOWN TO RUN ONE. TEACH LITTLE KIDS BALLET AND SHIT. GIVE HER THAT. Nomad-y things. MJ obviously wouldn’t be affiliated with the rebels from the jump, considering her position in the UN. However, she may gravitate towards at least a sympathizer down the road, considering her connections with Tony.

CHARACTER BIO —

Mary Jane was the second born child to Madeline and Phillip Watson, the first being her older sister Gayle. Her father was a professor, though changed jobs often, resulting in multiple moves throughout Mary Jane’s childhood. Her father wanted to be a writer, not a professor, though his books never succeeded. This led to anger that was often taken out on his family, usually while drunk. Mary Jane was in middle school when her mother decided that enough was enough - her father had been turning on her mother for years, but he’d finally turned on one of the girls. The three left Phillip for good.

Unfortunately, the constant moving didn’t seem to stop. Mary Jane’s mother still moved them around often, usually to be near relatives. Her mother usually worked as a waitress or a bartender, relying on tips for income, which wasn’t always stable. Thankfully, her mother’s family was kind, and would help with the girls as much as they could. Her mother went back to school, deciding that she and her children deserved more. Mary Jane’s favorite relative to stay with was Aunt Anna, who lived in Queens.

The frequent moves caused Mary Jane to have a rather extroverted and fun-loving personality, a way to try to get noticed and make friends quickly. She knew she would never be in one place for long, so she tried to remain care-free. She never allowed herself to get too close, because she knew it would only be so long before she would be moving again. It was easier to have a lot of people she barely knew that were fun to be around than to have a few close friends she would have to say goodbye to.

She was fifteen when her mother got sick, and things went downhill quickly. Mary Jane watched her mother wither away before her eyes, and vowed in that moment to never take life for granted and grab it by the horns. After her mother passed, Mary Jane refused to move back in with her alcoholic father. Part of her blamed him for robbing Mary Jane and her sister of quality years with their mother, and memories of the abuse were still fresh. Instead, she went back to the home where she’d always been the happiest - Mary Jane moved in with her Aunt Anna in Queens.

Her life of the party attitude and fun/over-the-top personality quickly gained her friends in school, though Mary Jane still had trouble letting people in. she knew she wouldn’t be moving again this time, but it was somehow easier for her to have her walls up. People liked her, she liked them, and she told herself that was enough. It wasn’t, really, though it was all she knew how to do. She participated in the drama club and the choirs at school, as well as in community theatre. This was where she made her true friends, where she made real connections that actually meant something. She had Broadway aspirations and spotlights in her eyes, and worked hard to perfect her craft. However, later in high school she found she had to put some productions on the back burner to get a job to help support the household she was living in. She mostly did waitressing jobs, though found a few assistant/secretary type positions to hold down as well after school.

Mary Jane was accepted into NYU’s musical theatre program at Tisch, and starred in many of their productions. However, she learned that in the real world, auditions were hard to secure and she found obtaining roles was even more difficult. She’d been praised so heavily in high school and during her time at Tisch that this was a harsh slap to the face, though she didn’t give up. She worked at Ellen’s Starlight Diner while in school, and was cast in the off-Broadway production of Heathers as an ensemble role and an understudy to Heather Chandler. Shortly after, she was finally cast in a Broadway production. She was cast as an ensemble part in American Idiot, and she’d never been happier.

After securing her first role, Mary Jane’s name slowly made its way around. She dropped out of school after a lot of consideration, deciding to devote her full attention to work. Her second show was Wicked, another ensemble role though she became Elphaba’s understudy after a few months. She left for the Spring Awakening tour, where she was cast as Wendla.

When the tour ended, Mary Jane experienced a huge wave of auditions due to praise she’d gotten from critics. She landed her first TV role, the main character for a show on a Netflix YA murder-mystery series. Unfortunately, as things went in that genre, she found her character killed off at the finale in the first season. She was brought back to film some flashback type scenes for season two, and then her contract was completed. The rise to fame was quick and unforgiving - MJ went from near constant press and finally feeling like she was making it to nothing. She returned to New York and experienced a drought in auditions, which many actors face. While she knew that, it was a hard pill to swallow after success, and she didn’t want to go back to the diner. An opportunity arose (mostly thanks to her sister’s husband, who worked for Stark Industries and brought up her name and vouched for her) and Mary Jane found herself working for Stark Industries. She was the personal assistant to Tony Stark, and MJ found that she and F.R.I.D.A.Y. worked well together and that she didn’t hate administrative work. It wasn’t acting, but it was a job, and Mary Jane was more than competent in the role. She proved to be organized and efficient, and MJ liked it more than a little. However, before long, the events of Sokovia transpired and MJ found herself without a job. To be fair, she’d quit, finding herself unable to work for Simon Trask and deciding that she’d rather find other opportunities elsewhere. She’d snagged a role in an off-Broadway production she wasn’t really feeling, and found herself applying for other positions, surprisingly in charity work and using her time at Stark Industries as a reference. She loved performing, would always be an actress at her core, but she found herself searching for something more meaningful. Her time away from film or stage had made her think more clearly on what she wanted in life, and she couldn’t help but feel like she needed more. She snagged a job for a charity in Sokovia, which Mary Jane only really knew about due to the press that had been drawn in after the events that transpired with the Avengers and with the Sokovia Accords. She found herself in the last round of interviews for a job at the UN in Sokovia as the Goodwill Ambassador (she was the right kind of famous, is what they said), and with the charity job already secured, Mary Jane was booking her ticket.

EXTRAS —

MYERS-BRIGGS: ENFP Sin: Greed & Pride HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin ZODIAC: Scorpio

#srisingintro

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pokemon-ventures · 5 years ago

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Blank Slate

Part 5, part 4 here.

A busy day leads to a lazy afternoon with the two cooling off inside. No smut...yet. Gotta make y��all suffer a bit first ;)

Your impromptu nap started out well until your dreams jolted you awake with the events leading up to now. The face of a Graveler stared at you and you felt something heavy hit your head from the side before it all goes black. When you sit up in bed, your head pounds and your heart races with adrenaline.

The room settles around you, revealing the master bedroom with Lance beside you, fast asleep. He looks as though he’s showered, fresh clothes and damp hair, and comfortable curled up next to you. You can’t help the smile that comes to your face looking at him, his strong jaw, thick hair and lashes draw your attention. There’s a small scar on his cheek, probably from his pokemon, and a small crease in his brows.

You nearly lean down to press your lips to it, but think better of it. Physically you’re married, but it honestly feels like you’re a new couple and that feels unfair to him. Your relationship had been fair until a few days ago, now he’s the one holding the fort until you can again.

But will you ever?

The thought makes you flinch at the thought of it not working out between the two of you because of what happened. It’d make sense though, your last memory is of a time before Lance came into your life. Who’s to say you didn’t miss it?

Okay, (Y/N), cool it on the drama, you scold yourself.

Intimacy destroyed by your thoughts, you slip out of bed and pull on his sweater before tip toeing into the hallway to explore the house. Once out of the door, your eye catches on a series of photos along the wall. You missed them coming through here, but now that you have a moment to breathe, you peer closer.

Some are of your family, old photos taken when you were younger to graduating high school and going to vet school to be a nurse. Then it’s Lance’s family, the official photos at clan gatherings and such up to him getting inducted into the Hall of Fame. He looks just the same, only a bit more mature in the face compared to his earlier years. Some of the looks you recognize simply because of the posters probably still at home in your parent’s house.

You clutch the sweater tighter as it comes to the first pictures of you and him. It’s strange looking at yourself in a photo you don’t remember being in.

The first one looks like an early date at an ice rink in Blackthorn. You dislike ice skating, so you’re shocked to see one of the biggest shit-eating grins on your face next to Lance. He also looks adorable with a navy, knitted ski hat on his head, hands grasping yours most likely to keep you from falling.

“(Y/N)?” you hear Lance call from the room, his voice groggy.

You blink away some tears in your eyes and call to him. “Out here.”

The bed creaks a bit as he heaves himself up and staggers to the door. He comes out stretching his arms, giving you a good look at his stomach as his shirt rides up. It makes you blush and turn back towards the pictures.

“How are you feeling?” he wipes his eyes. “What time is it?”

You shrug in response to his last question. “I’m feeling good.”

He joins you, pointedly putting his hands behind his back as he observes the same photo as you. That day ensured him he was in it for the long haul with you. You had expressed you didn’t like ice skating but he was adamant you try it with him there. While he didn’t change your mind, he at least got you to hate it a little less.

Every time you fell, you laughed and teased he wanted to see you at your worst before a second date. It wasn’t the intention, but if that was your worst, he was lucky.

“How did we meet?” you turn to him with clouded eyes.

His face brightens at the question and guides you to a photo down a few more paces. This one is later on in the relationship with how you sit on his lap, arm around his neck and other resting on his chest. The two of you are in Olivine, on the beach with the lighthouse in the background. Jasmine has joined you with her pokemon, Amphy beside her.

“I was doing my usual inspections in Olivine, meeting with Jasmine,” he explains with a fond smile. “When I got here, she left a note saying she was at the lighthouse for Amphy. The poor pokemon is susceptible to a lot of illnesses and I didn’t mind a change of scenery. When I got out there,” he glances down at you, gold eyes blazing with emotion, “there was a beautiful nurse there, laughing and talking with Jasmine. The way you worked with Amphy captivated me. He was completely at ease with you, barely reacted when you gave him a shot.”

“Amphy’s a good boy,” you shrug. “A lot of pokemon are unbothered by that.”

He laughs. “That’s the same thing you said when I complimented you that day. Anyways, Jasmine insisted the three of us head to her favorite restaurant for the meeting and to thank you for taking care of Amphy.”

“Don’t tell me,” you start. “We hit it off during lunch?”

“Oh, I was sure you hated me,” he scoffs. “You were standoffish and barely looked me in the eye.”

You flush realizing you were just flustered he was there and probably thinking about all the Lance stickers, notebooks and posters you’d bought in your younger years. It’d be the only reason you would appear that way to him.

“Oh no!” you groan, dropping your head in your hands.

“Oh, yes,” he snickers, patting your back. “Afterwards, Jasmine could tell I was put off and let me know what was really going on.”

“Oh no!”

“I think it’s sweet you supported me,” he clutches his stomach, trying to contain his laughter. “Really, (Y/N), it’s adorable.”

“Lance!” you squeak, smacking him. “Stop it! I’m gonna die of embarrassment.”

“Babe, no,” he wipes at his tears. “After that, I found you at the center and asked you to dinner.”

“Did I faint?” you ask, completely serious.

“I thought you were going to.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, glancing back at the picture.

You look so happy with him, and he looks so happy with you. It looks like how sleeping beside him felt last night. It’s a comforting thought that you’ll be able to pull through this with him.

You glance at a few more before stopping at the sight of yourself at your wedding. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, I said the same thing,” he murmurs, standing beside you to admire the photo of the two of you.

He looks amazingly handsome in a suit, broad shoulders and even waist all the way down. Standing next to him, you look radiant with a flowing dress down to the sand beneath your feet. You’d always wanted a wedding on the beach in Olivine, at lease it had come true.

“You okay?” Lance’s voice pulls you to the present, his finger ghosting your cheek as some tears fall.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, wiping them yourself. “It’s just strange,” you press your hand against the photo, “seeing myself there and not remembering it.”

“It’ll get better,” he sets a hand on your shoulder. “There’s no need to rush recovery.”

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug. At his confused look you sigh. “I just... I feel bad I don’t remember this stuff. You’re technically alone right now. I’m just a blank slate of the (Y/N) you knew. Doesn’t that bother you?”

He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed. “Not at all. You’re the same (Y/N) I met in Olivine and married in Olivine. You just don’t remember the events leading to this part of your life. I won’t lie, it hurts you don’t remember much, but I can’t force it. I can only support you.”

You stare at him. “You really love me that much?”

He holds out his arms and lets you walk into his embrace, he holds you tight to him. “That and so much more, (Y/N).”

Taglist:

@soundcitysession @cyndaquilsion

#Blank Slate #Lance x reader #Wataru x reader #yes I had to pull a title in the chapter thing #couldn't pass it up #also sex didn't seem right for this moment #but don't worry #we gonna get it gud #pokemon #pokemon lance

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years ago

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Hurt, pt. 11 (E.D.)

Summary: Y/N’s in for a surprise.

Warnings: ANGST, slight fluff, swearing, talk of depression

Word Count: 2900

Hurt - Masterlist

Knocking on Grayson’s office door as she enters, Y/N tilted her head to the left which always meant trouble.

“Silly question, but, um…did you by any chance tell my landlord that I won’t be returning to the apartment?” She kept her voice airy and sweet, but there was nothing sweet about the subtle glare she had sent his way.

“You know the apartment, right? The one I got because I had no home to come back to, right? The one I hadn’t gone to because the pregnancy got a little iffy so I stayed with you until I got cleared which happened a week ago and now I wanted to go home and found all my stuff is gone and my lease is up?”

Grayson swallowed thickly as he stared at her, wondering what excuse he could come up with so quickly that would save him from the hurricane she could turn into at any given moment. After all, if this was a cartoon, he’d see steam coming out of her head by now.

“Figured it would be safer for you to stay with us until birth. Clara loves having you around and you’re wasting money on a place you’re never at.” Grayson shrugged, hoping that careless looking gesture won’t result in his imminent death.

“That’s very thoughtful of you…if only your brother wasn’t going to come home and be in a shouting distance away from me while I’m trying to figure my life out!” She closed the door behind her, walking over to the chair across from his desk. She needed to settle down because her backaches had decided to start early on. She didn’t want to think about what it would feel like once the babies actually grew bigger.

“Look, Ethan isn’t looking to make your life harder. He just wants a chance. The man who broke your heart isn’t the same man you’re going to see when he gets out, okay?” Grayson sighed as she dropped her gaze. She always does that when Ethan is mentioned. Grayson thought it to be a form of self-defense, a way to tune out the world and center herself. Perhaps it was also a way to hide the emotion in her eye at the sound of his name for her eyes always betrayed her.

“I’m asking you like a brother, please give him a chance to prove he won’t hurt you again.” Grayson felt strongly about Ethan’s way of doing things in the past, but he swore an oath to himself to try and rectify things with him. It’s never just about who fights with you side by side during the battle, it’s also about those who stay to help clean the battlefield and Grayson promised himself to do both.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t see him again. Or talk to him. Because I want to. I need to. But there are things you can’t jump into and for me, this is one of those things.” Sighing, Y/N readjusted herself in the chair, her previous position no longer helping with the back pain.

“You know I’m sort of seeing someone, right?” Grayson’s heart dropped. He assumed she might like someone, but for her to admit to it officially was bad. It raised every single red flag in his mind.

“Well then, if you’ve found your missing treasure, shall we go? I hate to hurry you, but I really have to get back to the hospital and I’m sure you would rather be anywhere but here.” Edward smiled softly, his subtle jabs didn’t go unnoticed despite how he tried to make it all sound.

“This is my home, Ed. Plus, I’m staying with my brother in law across from this plot, so I’m gonna stay a little longer, okay?” She told herself she would be honest with Edward and she kept that promise so far. She didn’t feel quite ready to leave the house because not even a minute inside, she had felt herself relax. Some of the memories haunted her, but she still felt right. Although, the house didn’t feel quite like home without Ethan.

“You know I didn’t mean anything bad by what I said, right?”

“I mean, he’s aware of my situation and we’re taking it so slow that I haven’t even kissed him. It’s like…friendship with potential to be something more and I want to explore that.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she averted her gaze to where her wedding ring used to sit. The empty place was still something she had to get used to and she didn’t deny it or lie to herself about it anymore. She loves Ethan Dolan and yes, he hurt her and yes, she still wants him in her life. She isn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Is it that doctor?” Grayson’s voice is gruff, his body stiff and Y/N knows he’s not too fond of the idea.

“Yes. But that’s…Edward knows how I feel about Ethan. He knows I’m pregnant and about to swell up like a whale. He knows all that, but he looks past it. For the first time in a while, I feel seen. I feel wanted. So, please, don’t make me out to be the bad guy. Don’t judge me on how I choose to fix what Ethan broke.” She didn’t get to finish before Grayson stood up so abruptly his chair fell back and startled Y/N into a gasp.

“I know. But you do know I’m still very much married and I’m not sure that’s going to change, right?” Y/N countered, moving closer to Edward’s tall frame. He nodded, biting his lip hard enough for Y/N to feel her heart clench for him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but if he keeps insisting he is fine with her past, she considered her hands to be clean.

“Much aware. Thanks.” His dry response had made her sigh, heavily so. She liked Edward. She enjoyed his company. She found his mind just as sexy as his body and she wanted to be close with him. Closer.

“I hate saying it, but I’m sure you’re aware of my attraction to you too. And it’s okay if it’s not mutual because being friends is just fine with me as well because I’m far from ready to actively date someone, but I think you should know. If you feel the same way, you need to know I’m not ready for serious feelings and all that relationship stuff. I have my plate full with the pregnancy and the feelings I still have for Ethan. It’s not something that goes away overnight.” Tired of rambling while he just stared at her with his big, blue eyes, Y/N stopped to take a proper breath. She expected him to have so much to say in response, especially since she had openly admitted that he’d never be a priority in her life. Her children come first…Ethan second. At least for now he does. But Edward had just one thing to say and he said it with a smile.

“You like me?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be so dramatic.” Grayson chuckled as he walked around his desk and lowered himself to his knees before Y/N. Taking her hands into his, he spoke.

“Stay with us until birth. It will give you and Ethan a chance to heal at your own pace and the rest of us peace of mind. Mum offered you to stay with her, but you know how she can get.” Grayson raised an eyebrow as he remembered all the ways his mother goes overboard when one of them isn’t feeling good and with Y/N and three grandchildren in mind? She’d drive Y/N crazy within a week.

“Okay, okay. But no more waking auntie up before eleven o'clock, okay? I’m on a leave and I need to sleep before these tiny humans take over my life!”

Agreeing with Grayson, Y/N had returned to their home.

Turning around, she looked back at her old house longingly. Ever since she went back to see the ring Bianca mentioned, Y/N had felt the house calling for her. While she could fight it on most days, Y/N had found herself drawn today. Siren's song was a joke in comparison to the magnetic pull she felt in her heart, her legs moving closer to it on their own accord.

She couldn’t come inside. Not when her heart felt like it moved to her throat and her breathing turned erratic at the idea. No. Y/N decided on something she deemed a lesser evil – she decided to sit on the porch swing she had been observing fondly for so long.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS FOR ME!” Y/N cried out as she nearly tackled Ethan to the ground in her glee, her eyes spilling tears like a dam broke. She rarely cried, but this gesture – this kind, selfless gesture motivated by pure, unadulterated love – this was worth crying for.

“Don’t cry.” Ethan’s voice turned small and soft, gentle like a lover’s touch and she couldn’t help but cry harder at the sweetness in his tone. She always knew his tough act was a just that – an act, but when he would drop the act around her, she couldn’t quite help herself from falling deeper in love. Ethan was always so incredibly kind, tender, loving and she never knew how he was known as the intimidating twin. What she knew of him could never come close to it. Ethan she knows is as intimidating as a kitten.

“Do you not like the color? Or placement? I can change it all!” He continued, his voice drawing a smile to her face. To be so loved by someone like she felt loved by Ethan Dolan, it’s truly a blessing. She had thought herself to be unlovable as she was growing up. Y/N was never the type the guys would lose their minds over, or ask to the dance, or facetime until 3 am. Y/N was the overlooked girl, the forgettable kind…the girl guys approached solely to ask if she could hook them up with her friends. But with Ethan? She was the only girl in the world.

“No, no, no.” She chuckled, sniffling in her attempt to speak up.

“Don’t change a damn thing. I love it and I love you and I cannot put into words just how much this swing means to me.”

The swing she had once adored felt like a teasing ghost. It stood witness to every kiss, every caress, every moment that had mattered between her and Ethan that she had a hard time even looking at it. But she knew it was ridiculous to fear an object or a memory. In the spirit of changing, Y/N walked right up to the porch and sat down on the swing. It creaked slightly as she put her weight on it fully, reminding her of the time she asked Ethan to see why it’s creaking and he promised her he’d do it.

Three days later they weren’t even living together anymore.

Closing her eyes, she let the silence of the house calm her down. She wasn’t quite used to the silence, finding it eerie at first because usually one of them was inside blasting music. The silence took some time to get used to, but when she did, Y/N felt at peace.

Until she heard footsteps so near that her heart jumped at the sound.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ethan bit his lip nervously, standing five feet away from her with a bag thrown over his shoulder. His eyes were dark, but not with lust as they used to be…this was something much deeper. Something she didn’t understand.

“It’s okay. I suppose I’m sort of trespassing.” She smiled, deciding to be kind. She wanted to show him the kindness he showed her when he made this swing. And yes, she knew a lot of the work was done by Grayson, but Ethan tried and that’s all she ever wanted from him. She wanted him to care enough to try.

“You’re not. The house is in both our names, remember?” Ethan kinked his left eyebrow, probably unaware just how much she missed seeing that. She missed his kinked eyebrows and she missed his stupid smirks and his annoyingly beautiful voice. She missed him.

“Wanna sit?” She tapped the spot beside her, the left side where he’d usually sit. She’d read a book and drink her tea, her legs secured in his lap as he watched something on his phone. Sitting like that, in silence, no words needed? That was comfortable. It takes a certain amount of love and understanding for two people to be comfortable enough to sit in silence, knowing their silence doesn’t represent something bad, but a good sign.

Ethan didn’t sit on the porch swing for two months before they split. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he hadn’t taken that seat since she left. The swing felt like a sacred place he never let Bianca or anyone else occupy after.

But he took the seat now, feeling like it’s time to face it all. With her by his side, rightfully so.

“Now…wanna tell me why you look like a kicked puppy? Is this…uh…Is that part of being depressed? Because I only saw your eyes look like that once before and I can’t tell anymore.” She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Aware that the last thing he needs from her is to see him as a broken toy she can no longer be open with, she decided to be honest. She couldn’t look at him like someone who needed to be fixed. She wanted to be there for him without coddling him when it’s not necessary. Sometimes, he’ll need her to be brutally honest and sometimes she’ll tell him a little white lie, but she still didn’t know when.

Chuckling, Ethan’s face lit up. He knew she was trying to be nice, supportive. He knew she was nervous too and that he caught her off guard because he was supposed to be home two days ago but stayed a little longer and she didn’t expect to see him here today. He understood she was trying her best and that’s something he could appreciate.

“I was a little scared to come home,” Ethan admits, pressing his palms together before securing his hands between his thighs.

“I’m scared to be that guy again. And this house is like a haunted house for me right now. It doesn’t feel like home without you in it and I’m not saying that to guilt you into anything, I’m just trying to be honest about it.” Ethan clarified, his words ringing truth because Y/N felt the same. She knew exactly what he meant. It’s as if all the colors of the world would fade once she walked inside.

“I feel the same way. It’s not very…hospitable without you.” Moving closer, Y/N debated whether she should lean her head on his shoulder or not. She didn’t want to give him false hope of reconciliation until she was sure of where her heart and head are at. However, she also didn’t know if it would be false hope considering just how badly she wanted to lift her legs into his lap and sit there in silence, just watching each other – studying the changes made in the personalities since they last had a heart to heart conversation. She wanted to learn him all over again, but she was terrified of opening herself up to heartbreak again.

Connecting to Edward was easy – her heart was fond of him, but it didn’t bleed for him like it did for Ethan. Ethan made her vulnerable and to put herself in that position again, it scared the life out of her.

“I’m glad you were here though. It’s a little easier to breathe when I don’t have to face it alone.” Ethan pressed his thighs harder to trap his hands more securely. He felt his hands itch to reach out for Y/N, to just touch her. Aware that might be unwanted, he knew he had to reel it in. So he pressed his thighs tighter.

“I know we’re in shambles right now, but you can count on me if you need me. Okay? And I…I’ll be just over the bridge. Literally, just shout my name and I’ll come, because you’re not alone Ethan. But keep in mind I’m getting bigger and slower and I might need a bit of help, so don’t time me.” She smiled when her words made him giggle. She hadn’t heard his choked giggles in so long that her heart felt like flying once she did.

“I missed you,” Ethan admits, glancing her way to see her reaction and all he saw was a woman who didn’t know how to feel.

“Ethan…” She spoke, stopping herself from saying anything else.

“I wanted you to know. That’s all.” Smiling, he tried not to beg her to stay as she stood up to leave.

Nodding, she walked off the porch only to stop at the last step. Turning to meet his lingering gaze, Y/N had done something she told herself she wouldn’t.

“I missed you too.”

She gave Ethan hope.

Tags: @melodiesforari @brittttneyyyy @beautorigin @dolandolll @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @ethanhes @lanadeldolans @ebbach-03 @dolangels @xxaamzxx @cutestdolans @yaren-ates @dolansmith @vintagebitttch @primadolangirl @caqsicle @jjustjoy @justordinaryjen @graydolan12 @imaginashawnns @graysonslovie @fandomsfeministsandothershit @bdsmdolan @graysavant @ethanspillow @dopedoodes @anything-dolan @sugarfootdolan @joyrivh @reblogserpent @jonesana @emiemille @herewegoagainandagainandagain @adventureswithmell

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daddychims · 6 years ago

Text

OURS

Genre: Mafia!AU , Smut , polyamory

Pairings: BTS (OT7) X Reader

Word count: 8K

She belonged to them , she knew it very well but a moment of temptation and she decided to challange their ownership over her. But the seven guys dont hesitate to remind her of her place ... of the reality. They own her ... that is her place ... that is her fate ...

"The day you stood in the entrance of this room , I warned you …" Yoongi's dangrous voice rang in her ear "Once you become involved In this , you'll always be ours …" he hesitated and the girl's wanton cry echoed in the room "Always ours …“

Warning: This story contains sensitive themes such as dubious consent, manhandling, mafia, excessive aggression, punishment, polyamory, smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, degradation, praise kink Etc. Basically Pure Filth and a PWP.

If you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes please refrain from reading further.

She could feel it , the dark pairs of eyes dancing on her figure just Like the way her body swayed along with the beat. She smirked as the rush of adrenaline surged through her veins along with the drop of the beat , while the stranger’s hands wrapped around her waist. She tilted her head back to get a sight of the guy she was offering herself to. she might have been the lone rabbit looking for a predator dancing on her own in this infamous place but she still had standards on who she chose to feast tonight.

She bit her lips , her eyes glazing at the sight of the breathtaking stranger. Sharp jawlines followed by a thick layer of muscles that presented a protruded vein presumably due to lust if she put it into context. Perfect, she thought to herself , pushing her body even further to his well toned body to get a better feel of his host for the feast she planned for her night.

The guy took the sign and wrapped his arms even further , dipping his lips into her neck as he started to have his way down the side of her jaw to her neck

“Why is a beautiful lady like yourself on her own tonight!? Wouldn’t that be too much of a waste!” He whispered , his tone lustfully low

“I prefer to let the life decide my fate some nights.” She whispered seductively turning her head to meet his gaze “It hasn’t disappointed me tonight”

The guys smirked , his head falling back before bringing his determined gaze on her “Should I take control of your fate and take you somewhere even better then!?”

She licked her lips , feeling her core muscles clenching at the seductive words, he was the perfect one for the night, she thought.

“If you’re so good at controlling , why are you asking me!?” She challenged and the guy’s gaze turned darker

“You asked for it babe” he said as he tightened his grasp around her waist and pulled her towards the exit of the club.

She bit her lips, excitement pooling in between her legs , the smell of tobacco and alcohol almost turning unbearable as she knew she has somewhere even better to be in a few minutes-

“Aahhh …” she gasped , her head turning involuntarily towards the opposite direction and her breath caged in her chest upon the sight

“Going anywhere babe!?” He asked with a dark smirk that looked anything but welcoming to her eyes

She tried to struggled in his hold , turning her firmly stilled neck to release herself and her newly found friend only looked back when he felt a tug on his arm as he tried to pull her further behind himself.

Her trembling gaze travelled from the familiar condescending gaze that were placed on her to the guy that still had her wrist in his hold , hoping he would somehow surprise her with a different reaction than other guys at the sight of the familiar frightening guy. But his widened eyes and the layer of sweat on his forehead didn’t surprise her at all.

“Kim Seokjin” the guy called almost in a gasp , immediately releasing the strong hold on her wrist “are you his!?”

“I’m not-Nghh” she tried to protest but the guy’s hold on her neck smoothly moved on her windpipe , cutting the air to her throat

“I heard your brother wanted a deal with Namjoon” The guy said as his hand danced on her neck , while his gaze was fixed on the terrified guy “Will you tell him the news yourself or should I do it for you!?”

“I’m S..Sorry , I didn’t know she’s yours. I swear I thought she was on her own.” The guy stuttered , his eyes glazing in fear

“Haven't you learnt in school to not touch something you don’t know who owns!? If you’re in this industry , you should know that much” Seokjin said stepping closer to the guy

“It was my fault” She voiced out , trying her best to not sound as weak as she felt

“I’ll get to you later , stay quiet for now” he snarled with a sarcastic smile before bringing his gaze to the guy “Get lost and consider that deal gone.” His lips curved into a dark smirk as he continued “Maybe next time you’ll remember not to touch something you don’t know awho owns”

She stared at him , her heart stinging at the word. Thing, that’s exactly what she meant in their world, an object they loved to place ownership over. After all they lived for this , owning things , naming them the way they wanted and play them the way they desired.

"I'm Sorry" the trembling guy bowed 90 degrees, his head almost touching his knees before quickly disappearing from her sights.

She sighed watching her almost knight in the shining armour drifting away with longing eyes , when the pressure on her neck brought her attention back to the problem she almost forgot about. She gasped when his breath tingled on the skin of her neck , indicating he's too close for her to even consider an escape plan

"Now you baby…" his words tickled the small hairs behind her ear "Its your turn isnt it?"

She didn’t even bother to look at him , her eyes slowly tracing down to her shoes as her head slightly tilted as a reflex to the air that he was breathing on to her neck "Your Daddies will be thrilled to know what you've been doing out of their watch."

She gulped , digging her nails onto the side of her thigh , almost scarring the soft flesh remembering the dress she was wearing was dangerously too short that allowed the access she had to her own body which was not gonna be helpful in the courtroom she will soon be judged on.

She gasped when she felt her body moving in the opposite direction forcefully , feeling her previously dislocated shoulder popping out of the socket again so she apprehensively held onto her arm , hoping this tug on her arm would soon end. The guy ahead of her however knew no mercy , as he pulled her up the stairs that lead to the VIP area of the club where private rooms were leased to those that wanted to do more than just what was offered on the dance floor and the bar across it.

She gasped as the familiar room came to her view , not so foreign memories starting to flutter through her mind. Her body started to shake involuntarily , her instinctive reflex was to freeze on the spot and pull herself to the opposite direction of where she was being taken to. Her eyes travelled to the guy that stopped along with her and looked back at her with annoyed gaze

"Oh Come one …" he hissed furrowing his eyebrows "For Fuck's sake , Its not time for a push and pull game Baby"

She shook her head , foolishly pouring all her fear In her eyes , silently begging him for mercy despite knowing the guy she's having her chances at was probably one of the most cruel men known to human being.

"Baby …" he whispered stepping closer to her , hugging his strong fingers laced around his favourite spot on her neck , stroking the soft flesh of her windpipe where he could easily take control of her vitals "You already fucked up , do yourself a favour and behave so I can actually put out some arguments in there for you"

Her eyelashes batted at him innocently , her eyes glazing with tears as she gulped on the thick saliva that pooled in her mouth "I'm not coming with you." she firmly voiced out , watching the mocking smirk flying through her opponent's lips

"Did I ever give you a choice?" He asked pausing for a second as the smirk changed its place to an angry gaze "Baby, get in the room before I get angrier. I might look like I'm the most gentle of all but you tried me enough tonight and I don’t want you to see what I haven't shown you yet" He growled before turning around and opening the door and throwing her inside before stepping in behind her.

She stumbled on her feet , almost falling in the middle of the private room , the six pairs of eyes travelling to her in union as she tried to keep herself stead before making eyes contact with the first person that came to her sight.

"Look who's here" the guy with sleepy eyes said , the corner of his lips curving up into a crooked smile fondly as eyed her

She gulped , her knees almost giving way at the sight of those dark orbs eyeing her lovingly. She missed him , even if she hated to admit it , she missed him so much for the very short time she was away from him.

"Guess where I found her" Seokjin sneered taking a seat beside Namjoon while the girl quickly curved into a small spot , lowering her gaze to the floor "Our baby has grown up so much, she's now grinding on some random guy's dick in Our club"

She brought her head up , looking at the guy with hatred in her eyes and he scoffed before glaring away from her.

"Oh really?" Yoongi's low voice echoed in her ear , and she immediately drifted her longing gaze to watch his fond eyes turn into a dangerous glare as guilt washed through her body "Is that true baby?"

She looked away , digging her nail in her thighs again habitually as she stayed silent in response , knowing too well someone else will answer the interrogation for her

"And that’s not any guy , he was one of the guys from EXO. The one that hangs out with Jimin sometimes." Jin raised an eyebrow with a condescending gaze "I'm sure baby knows they're our rivals doesn’t she?"

"Hyung … are you talking about Jongin? " Jimin stepped in the exchange of conversation "Our baby must have had an eye on him sine the last time he came to visit me " he suggested his dangerously innocent eyes that were a complete paradox to his inner abilities trying to catch her attention "Is that it baby?"

"No" she replied unconsciously , biting her lips as she realized she's broke her own promise to herself to stay quiet all through this interrogation. She knew very well by experience , every words she'd say in front of the seven men would be used against her.

"Dirty slut" Taehyung hissed eyeing her with a condescending look, she hated the most. After all Taehyung was the one that was against her from the very beginning "I told you all she'd be a fucking thirsty whore if we don’t feed her for a day"

"Taehyung" Namjoon snarled at the guy and he went silent , his obedient gaze lowering at the elder's warning "I think she deserves an explanation" he suggested in his usual calm tone

Her scared gaze danced on the guy's face, for some reason she wanted to run to his embrace and hug him tight , asking him to protect her but she knew very well she lost that right the moment she tried to disobey them. At least the guy's soft but disappointed gaze was telling her clearly that she had no protection in him for now.

"I left a letter" she started , not baring to look any of the guys in the eye "Did you-"

"Yes we did" Hoseok replied nodding his head calmly before exchanging a look with the guy beside him

"I want you to know that I don’t want to be involved In this anymore" she heard Jungkook mimicking the words from her heartfelt letter in a mocking tone before bursting out laughing along with the two other youngest beside him "Oh Gosh , she's so fucking cute" he decalred jokingly receiving a slight smile from his hyungs

She watched in disbelief , not expecting the reaction she received from her statement. She poured all her emotions , anger and frustration in that letter and here she was being mocked for the supposedly resignation letter she almost died to write.

"Is that your explanation?" Namjoon asked , his gaze somehow looking even more intimidating and disappointed to her "The letter?" he questioned

She batted her eyelashes , trying to wipe the tears that were threatening to flee her eyes before she nodded. Her stomach dropped almost immediately as Namjoon sighed and looked away from her.

"I told you" Taehyung voiced out eyeing his four hyungs who were all looking baffled and frustrated , all 4 of them growling in union at the younger guy's words while Jimin slapped his shoulder and glared him to stay quiet to prevent further anger from the elders.

"I don’t wanna do this anymore" she tried to hold her vocal cords together, her voice rising significantly higher than it usually was with the group of guys "I don’t wanna be yours anymore" she added the latter as if it was any help to her initial argument

"Oh Gosh" Hoseok sighed sparing a look at Yoongi beside him before giving the girl a pitiful look "Go easy on her Hyung" he whispered

"Jungkook …" Yoongi called for the younger's name while his furious eyes were fixed on the girl

"Yes Hyung?" the mentioned guy immediately jumped onto his two feet , nodding his head as Hoseok pointed to the girl

Jungkook walked closer to her , while she stepped back slightly scared of the way he was looking at her. He easily grasped her arm in his strong hold and pushed her on the elder's body. She gasped , her face painfully hitting the stone firm chest of the guy she was thrown at before bringing her face out and looking at him.

"We spent two years teaching you , nurturing you for you to just stab us in the back little girl?" he asked , his tone lowering an octave with each word

She looked at him , a pearl of tear rolling down the corner of her eyes as guilt rushed through her body. Her heart clenched at the nickname he used which she's never heard before from Yoongi's lips. She was always his baby for the past two years, just like he said the baby he nurtured every single day. And a mistake , only one big mistake was enough to push her down the ladder of hierarchy to that condescending name some of the others called her before in her life , the little girl.

"I don’t wanna be an object , just a little toy for all of you to play with" she protested , the belittling title pushing her sanity off the edge "I don’t wanna be your little girl anymore" she panted

Yoongi's dark and disappointed eyes danced on her figure , his expression hardening in pain like a parent who was deeply disappointed by his child. Her disobedience , the disrespect was too far for his patience.

His hand travelled up onto the strands of her hair , tugging painfully on her scalp as she winced from the sudden pain "Is that why you decided to whore around in our club Little girl?"

She sobbed at the sound of the newly established nickname she hated to hear from his lips the most.

"And that’s not with just any guy, but one of the guys from EXO … knowing very well how your Daddies feel about the rival group?" he asked as his hands traced their way down the small piece of fabric she could barely call a dress that hugged her body tightly, enhancing her every curve. His finger found their way under the hem of the dress resting on her ass and pulled it up onto her waist.

She heard a mixture of gasps from behind her as her exposed ass came into view

"Hyung … she's not wearing any panties" Jimin growled , feeling his member tenting up against his tight pants

"Oh naughty little girl …" he whispered as a sudden impact came into contact with her asscheek immediately , making her wince in pain and pleasure at the same time "You've been really naughty tonight haven't you?" his anger and lust filled eyes flicked between her two orbs as he muttered "Namjoon … what should we do with her?"

"I think …" Namjoon said , his voice even lower than when he was questioning her "We should teach her lessons all over again , she probably forgot who owns her little princess parts"

"You're right" she shrieked in pain as another smack came into contact with the sensitive flesh "What do you think Seokjin Hyung?" Yoongi nodded , his gaze stilled fixed on her

"Being the one watching her grind on that guy's dick so hungrily , I think our little girl needs to be filled by all of us tonight. Maybe then she can control herself from whoring around so much" he growled , his hand already playing with his bulge that was painfully tugging on his pants

"So she's been really hungry huh?" Yoongi nodded another whip of his hand landing on her ass and this time just a muffled sob left her lips , the burning sensation on her flesh and the anticipation of all the dirty things the two other men were suggestion pooling on her core "Hoseok … what do you think we should do with this hungry little whore?"

She winced at the new name he called her, feeling hurt and aroused at the same time. She never believed hearing such filthy words from those lips would turn her on so much.

"With hungry sluts like her …" Hoseok smirked eyeing the girl closely "I usually fill their mouth up and choke them on my cock until they cant breath"

Yoongi's lips curved into a satisfied smile as he stroked the sensitive flesh of her ass he abused a few seconds ago before tracing his fingers down to her dripping core , touching her arousal through the exposed skin.

"Our little whore is enjoying all the filthy things her Daddies are suggesting" he said watching the crimson blush heating on her cheeks as she lowered her head in his chest "I guess we should teach our baby a good lesson tonight huh?"

She gasped as Yoongi held onto the sides of the hem of her dress, ripping it apart from her body in a smooth and fast motion. The fabric left her body as she felt another hand creeping on her back , and before she knew she was turned around on Yoongi's lap. Her eyes widened as she came eye to eye with Hoseok's gaze who was looking at her with teasing eyes, a painful gasp leaving the lips of the five other guys that were sitting around the lustful scene.

She bit her lips , shutting her eyes closed as she felt her whole naked body in display of the six guys that were watching if the guy she was easily being manipulated in his arms not counted. It wasn’t her first time but it didn’t somehow lessen how shy and aroused she felt. After all the day she accepted to be their little baby she loved the idea of being the centre of attention of seven guys.

"Fuck … Hyung she's so wet" Hoseok growled , eyeing the pool of her juices running on her thighs

"Our little whore loves attention, Hoseok" Yoongi growled against her ear, as he shifted her on his lips , her back resting on his chest. He grabbed onto her two thighs and parted them , the display of her dripping cunt receiving a sea of lustful growls in the room "Don’t you little girl?"

"Well , since she loves it so much. Why don’t we give it to her?" Hoseok suggested , pulling his zipper down and taking his hard member out and stroking it in anticipation

"We will Hoseok …" Yoongi said and her eyes fluttered open in surprise , eyeing the guy who was holding her in his arms almost believing his soft tone "Except there are rules"

She sighed , immediately knowing the meaning behind those words. She was there for a long , torturous and painfully slow run.

"We will give our little girl the attention she needs" he nodded eyeing the guys who were all slowly playing with their hard on as if they were preparing for their turns "Except she doesn’t get to cum"

"Fuck- Nghhh .." she gasped as a slap cut her word short on her sensitive clit where it costed her a lot more fluid of arousal running down her thighs

"Language little girl" Yoongi hissed before eyeing the guy who was stroking himself in his palm "that’s your punishment for tonight"

"Cruel" Taehyung pointed out with a satisfied tone "Fucking cruel" he said as he palmed himself over his jeans

She looked at Yoongi , pouring all her pleas in her eyes as she muttered "Please Daddy … I'm sorr- Aaahhh …"

"Too late for that little girl" he growled , slightly more furious at her apology "Hoseok, Fuck her"

The guy didn’t want to be asked twice, he grabbed the girl's thighs , pulling her slightly lower against himself before thrusting his already dripping with precum member. She winced at the sudden impact of his hip against hers , squirming in Yoongi's lap but her dripping wet core was more than prepared to accept the insanely moving hip of the guy above her.

She mewled in pleasure as the guy who was still holding her in his arms starting groping her breast , pinching her nipples sensually.

"Do you like that little girl? Do you like it when Hoseok fucks you so hard you cant even breath?" He whispered the filthy words against her earlobe. The only sound she could muster up were the lewd sounds of pleasure that left her lips with each thrust that Hoseok made it to her deepest spots.

Hoseok was rough , perhaps one of the roughest in the group of guys. His girth accompanied by the gifted sway of his hip was a recipe to every girl's pleasure and she couldn’t deny that the guy knew how to make her scream in pleasure. He was ruthless in the way he pushed his hip bone against her bony frameworks , almost moving her a millimetre higher with each thrust if she wasn’t being held by the guy under her. The hot sessions she always had with him all ended in her possibly losing her voice while having sore muscles for a while.

She shrieked as an impact came into contact with her sensitive clit , another one followed not too long after when Yoongi's furious voice buzzed in her ears "I asked a question. Didn’t I teach you to answer me when I ask you something?"

"Y… Yes …" she stuttered , using her hazy memories to reminisces the question he asked earlier "AAAhhhh"

Another whip of his palm planted on her clit while he pinched her nipple between his index and middle finger "Yes what?" he barked

"Yes D..Daddy" she voiced out , hoping she'd got it right this time

"That’s better" Yoongi said , his fingers dancing on her clit and flicking the sensitive nub "You didn’t forget our deal have you?"

"N…No Daddy" she replied , not really believing her voice herself knowing very well his fingers were not helping her with the deal he placed upon her by the way they were swirling on her clit.

"Good girl" he whispered , the flicking of his finger moving faster on her clit "Jimin" he called and the guy who was stroking himself while watching the sinful sin replied through hooded eyes

"Yes Hyung?"

"Get your ass here" he ordered and the guy soon made his way to them "Our naughty girl is gonna give you a head while Hoseok fucks her"

Water pooled between her lips at the sight of the guy who was getting closer to her. His hard cock standing proudly against his stomach , precum dripping down the shaft and the tip angry red. Jimin grabbed her wrist and brought her hand closer to himself

"Is that right baby?" he purred as the girl wrapped her palms habitually around his shaft "Are you gonna suck daddy off?"

"Yes … " she gasped bringing her head closer to him and engulfing him , encouraged by the sound of her old nickname. This was what she was to them , their baby , their obedient baby and she loved to be called like this. She moaned around the guy , sending him off to a heavenly start as he thrusted his hip further inside her.

"Fuck Baby girl … that feels so fucking good" Jimin groaned grabbing onto her head and holding onto her to easily fuck her mouth.

She slacked her jaw, easing her throat around him as she felt his attempt to fuck himself further in her mouth. She was confident she can take the guy fully based on her experience before. This was not the case however with some of the other guys in the room.

Her eyes travelled to Hoseok whose moaning was rising In tone , his member erratically growing inside her indicating he's close so she clenched around him in the hope that giving him what he desires would earn her some brownie points.

"Fuck … I'm gonna … I'm gonna cum" Hoseok announced holding onto her hip as his thrust paced before finally exploding inside her "Fuck … FUCK …" he cried his last few thrusts , painting her inside with his cum before finally ceasing and pulling out of her with a pop.

She groaned in the sudden emptiness feeling the cum of the panting man above her gushing out of her , Jimin's hard member still thrusting against her throat. Hoseok fixed his pants before walking away and throwing himself on one of the couches while Yoongi smeared the guy's cum on her core

"One down baby girl , but you still have a long way " Yoongi whispered against her ear and she whined around Jimin. The vibrations made him throw his head back , cussing from the sensation

"Fuck … Your lips feel so good baby … I'm gonna cum …"

Her gaze lightened at the praise words and she reached up for his balls , massaging them in an attempt to please him even more.

"Hyung … Hyung I'm gonna cum in her mouth … I'm so close …" Jimin voiced out , sounding almost whiny as if he was asking for the elder's permission

"Why don’t you fill our little whore's mouth like she wanted to?" Yoongi ordered watching the girl in his hold squirming in his lap "She was so hungry she even tried to feed herself off another guy's dick" he hissed , receiving a apologetic wince from the girl "You should feed her well so she doesn’t forget who owns her little mouth next time"

"Yes Hyung …" Jimin nodded in anticipation as he held onto the girl's hair roughly , holding her head still "I'll fuck her mouth until its full of my cum …" he brought his hooded gaze to the girl "Do you want that baby? Do you want Daddy to fill you up like the good little cum whore you are?"

She nodded , tears filling up her eyes at the result of her gag reflex she was trying to suppress. The encouraging gesture was enough to send the guy off the edge , he stilled her head as he thrusted his release into her wet muscles , filling her mouth up as he promised.

He winced as he pulled out his hard member out of her mouth , the droplets of cum dripping down the corner of her lips and he groaned at the sight of the fucked out girl.

"Hyung , I wish you could see her. She's looking so fucking sexy , all fucked out with her cum filled mouth."

She mewled , clenching around nothing but air , turned on by the description the guy offered. Her eyes travelled to the guy who was still holding her tightly in his arms , hoping her effort with the two guys would have made him a bit more happier with her but her hopes shattered seeing his stone cold eyes

"That’s what she should look like Jimin" he said in a soft quiet tone that ran a shiver down her spine "Perhaps we should make her roam around the club looking like this so everyone knows she belongs to her Daddies"

She winced as a familiar sting came back on her clit and she whined , nuzzling in the guy's chest in protest "Isnt that right little girl?"

"Daddy … please …" she finally broke her silence , trying her chance again "I'm sorry …"

She sighed as she watched his expression hardening at her attempt again "Namjoon" he growled and the guy was on his feet , with his pants pooling around his ankle the next second "Our filthy slut still doesn’t get it. Why don’t you show her?"

"Yes Hyung" the guy responded with a low tone , his formal tone contradicting his hard dick that was standing parallel to his abdomen as he positioned himself against her …

"The day you stood in the entrance of this room , I warned you …" Yoongi's dangrous voice rang in her ear as she felt the guy standing against her body , teasing her entrance "Once you become involved In this , you'll always be ours …" he hesitated and the girl's wanton cry echoed in the room "Always ours …“

Namjoon was big as he’s always been, making her wonder how she’s been taking him for the past two years. He had his specific way of fucking her , usually having her spooned on her side on the bed while fucking her from behind. This position she was now in though, was making him reach the deep spots he’s never reached before in their usual position.

Yoomgi held onto her thighs , keeping her leg spread for the guy that thrusted in and out of her in a fairly rapid and uniform motion. A layer of sweat covered the guy’s forehead watching Hoseok’s transparent remains leave her entrance as he thrusted more and more inside her. He groaned as he felt her clenching around him and he immediately slowed down

“Nghh … Our little girl is playing dirty isn't she!?” He whispered in his deep voice , glancing at Yoongi before slowing down his thrust to lazy thrusts

“Daddy … Please … Faster … Please don’t stop” she begged bucking her hip up but she was pulled back in place by Yoongi’s strong arms groping her ass.

“Little naughty girl … “ he barked against her skin before bringing his dominant gaze to Namjoon “Go faster Namjoon” he ordered

The girl’s eyes lightened in hope as the guy above him pounded in his previous pace in and out of her when the guy’s voice against her skin brought her to the reality

“You’re not allowed to cum , did you forget!?” He said as his fingers danced on her tummy , keeping her still to give Namjoon a better anchor

“Please Daddy … I need to cu-“

“Taehyung” he called cutting her sentence off and the guy shifted on the couch

“Yes Hyung!?” He asked with a teasing smirk as he made eye contact with the girl.

Its been two years and she still felt like she didn’t have her way into the silver haired guy's heart. Taehyung was the only one opposing her being added to their circle and he never missed any chances to remind everyone how much of a bad choice she was. Despite the fact that she felt hated to the guts by the guy she often found herself on her hands and knees by midnight while he somehow seduced her into the position and fucked her senselessly into the sheets.

“She’s talking too much , why don’t you give our little girl something better to do with her mouth” Yoongi ordered and the guy walked slowly to the girl , offering her a mocking stare

“I’d love to do that Hyung” he nodded , rubbing his precum around the tip of his monstrous dick which was questionably one of the biggest she’s seen before. All the confidence she had about pleasing Jimin disappeared in a few seconds as Taehyung's large member came into her sight “since you’re such a talkative little slut tonight , I want you to beg for my cock” he cooed the filthy words in his deep voice

She stayed silent , gulping as her mouth watered at the sight of his dick , still conflicted if she wants to deep throat him or not when a smack landed on her stomach.

“Taehyung asked something” Yoongi whispered reminding her

“Daddy … Please let me suck your cock” she whispered the dirty words while fixing her eyes on the silver haired guy “Please …“ she added hoping she would get some success but he was tougher than that

“You want daddy to fill your mouth!?” He asked bringing his tip closer to her and her eyes lightened into smile thinking he’d give it to her but he slapped her cheek instead “Do you think you deserve that you little dirty slut!? Hmm!?”

She bit her lips as she received another slap across her cheek , mewling at how Namjoon reached her sweet spot , her mind drifting in lust “Please Daddy … “ she begged

“If you wanted it so bad , why did you grind on that bastard’s dick!? Huh!?” He growled , grabbing onto her hair and making her look up at him

She just looked at him in silence , tear pooling on her lids when Yoongi’s voice reached her ear

“Kim Taehyung …” Yoongi snarled reaching for his wrist to slap it off “I know how to discipline her , you do what I tell you”

Taehyung gritted his teeth , hating the way the older man stopped his power play over the girl. He always thought Yoongi was too soft on her , hence the mess she created that day and all the other mistakes she’s done before. He scoffed in anger before grabbing her cheek and pushing his cock inside her lips

“Right! I’ll just need to fill your slutty lips with my cock” he pushed his whole length against her throat , the girl helplessly gagging on his cock “Look at you little girl , You can barely take my whole cock”

She glared at him , feeling challenged by his belittling words indicating she’s not doing well at pleasing him. She slacked her jaw around him , easing her mouth around his large girth just like the way she did with Jimin but somehow she only ever could fit half of him inside her mouth.

"Awww look at this little girl trying to prove daddy wrong" Taehyung scoffed grasping her head "Don’t try too hard babe , you'll hurt yourself"

She glared at him , bobbing her head around him in an attempt to make up for the lack of length he couldn’t fit in and a smile glazed in her eyes as his head fell back in pleasure , groaning as his grasp around her hair tightened.

"Fuck … you little slut … you're so good with your mouth …" he sneered making her clench around Namjoon even more , dripping wet at the compliments

"Fuck …" Namjoon hissed holding onto one of her knees and pushing it further up to get a better angle inside her "You're so fucking tight even after just fucking Hoseok"

She moaned around Taehyung , the sounds vibrating and sensualising the already establish pleasure she was giving to Taehyung. With a few more thrusts inside her , both guys released their juices in her , one In her dripping cunt while the other filling up her mouth , groaning loudly from the intense pleasure.

Her throbbing core was left empty once more , the cum dripping down onto the floor as Namjoon pulled out while she swallowed the streams of cum Taehyung gifted her mouth. The younger guy sighed in pleasure as he finally pulled out and stroked her cheeks in daze , taking her off guard by his sudden affectionate move. She gulped as her eyes met the guy's hooded gaze

"You're amazing baby" he purred as if he was spelled to a different person only coming to his senses when Yoongi cleared his throat

She watched with longing eyes for more of his affectionate touch on her cheeks , where he suddenly pulled back and started fixing his pants like Namjoon did a few seconds earlier and made his way to where he was sitting before his turn.

She sighed bringing her gaze to the guy who was stroking her tummy softly , a tear rolling down the corner of her eyes as she desperately clenched around the wetness of the two guy's cum inside her. Her clit was swollen and pulsing for touch and Yoongi knew very well hence the movement of his fingers stayed right above her hip bone on the area on her abdomen.

She parted her lips to beg again but she realized all her attempts at begging forgiveness was turned into even harsher punishment by him previously so another painful sigh left her lips as she nuzzled in his chest like a lost cat in the rain.

"Hyung …" Jungkook voiced out in a deep voice , his face scrunched in pain and she immediately brought her gaze to him "Can I …" he asked , a rosy blush creeping on his cheek

She almost smiled fondly over the shy guy , he was always like that. Although a dominant beast when he was with her alone , he was always shy and obedient with the elders , always waiting for permission before making a move or attempting a touch on her.

"Can you hear that little girl …" Yoongi whispered against her neck "Jungkook is asking for his turn" he said shifting her up to sit higher on his lap , the rush of cum dripping down her core and she mewled due to gravity as she tried to keep her jelly like legs still.

"Hyung …" Yoongi's eyes travelled to Jin and muttered "Where do you wanna take her?"

Jin's eyes travelled to the girl , gentle orbs observing the trembling girl on Yoongi's lap "her mouth. That all she gets from me today"

Her eyes watered , looking at the handsome guy with need in her eyes but he didn’t flinch a bit at her pleading eyes. He stroked himself as he walked closer to her and muttered

"Be thankful I'm still filling your slutty mouth after what I saw down there" he stated with a scarily calm tone and her eyes lowered

"I'm sorry Daddy" she muttered as she reached for his cock but he grasped her wrist firmly In his and pressed tightly around it making her wince.

"Oh no little girl , It takes a lot more than that for me" he said with a cold tone "Why don’t you tell your Daddies how you're gonna behave from now on?"

Jin was always like that , calm and gentle but somehow unforgiving to her. He knew exactly how to discipline her and how to get her in lines with his standards. He was one of the most affectionate yet , hardest to please amongst the guys and that made him even more special in the girl's heart, her earnest wishes being to make him happy with her.

"I'll behave well Daddy … I promise …" she said , her trembling eyes travelling between his two cold eyes

"Wil you be a naughty little slut , playing with other guys , other than Daddies?" he asked drifting closer to her

"I wont Daddy … I promise …" she batted her eyelids pleading "Please … let me touch you …"

He bit his lips , his already heating lust for the girl he's been trying to keep together falling out of his control as he nodded "Suck me little girl " he groaned and the girl smiled before reaching and stroking his tip before enveloping her lips around him "Suck like the obedient slut you are" he said , his tone still firm and unbothered by the girl's warm lips around him.

"Jungkook" Yoongi watched as the girl sucked the older male above them attentively "Come here"

The younger guy walked closer to them in an insanely fast pace and Yoongi grabbed her other wrist bringing it up to reach for Jungkook's painful erection and he winced from the contact of the girl's cold hands with his heated cock.

"Give Jungkook a bit of a hand will you little girl?" he whispered against her ear

She nodded while still having Jin's length deep in her mouth , while she skilfully pumped the younger guy's cock in her other hand. Her legs tried to clench closer together , to create some friction , anything to help with the painful knot in her stomach but Yoongi kept her thighs spread.

"Behave little girl , Behave" he barked and she whined nodding her head as she continued her work , to please the two guys.

The seconds passed , and the sinful action of her hand and her lips on the two guys soon brought their much waited highs closer to them. Yoongi's hands travelled to her inner thighs , parting the lips of her pussy while one finger entered her and the other toyed with her swollen clit. She moaned around Jin and he groaned holding onto her head

"Fuck … " he cussed looking down at the girl whose eyes was fixed on his "I'm gonna fill up your pretty lips baby "

She nodded persistently , bobbing her head to encourage what he offered her.

"You want that?" he groaned with a fond smile as he grabbed her cheek and snapped his hip against her lips "You wanna taste Daddy?" he received a keen nod again exchanging a haughty look with Yoongi "Yoongi Ah … our little girl is so thirsty for his Daddies. Maybe that’s why she's been misbehaving recently"

Yoongi's nose digged into the flesh of her neck as he whispered "Is that why little girl?" he added another finger inside her pussy while flicking his thumb on her throbbing nub "Were you thirsty for Daddy? Were you that desperate for attention little girl?"

She mewled , nodding automatically with everything Yoongi said while tears of pleasure and pain of suppressing her much waited release rolled down the corner of her eyes.

"Don’t worry baby , I'll feed you well" Jin thrusted , his hip stuttering as he followed tracked his way to his release "I'll fill your little mouth so well you'll be full for days"

She moaned as Jin exploded between her lips , his hot cum filling her wet muscles and she gulped attentively every drop as if it was a mission. She carefully milked the guy before gasping for air as he pulled away and stroked her hair

"Good little girl" he purred and she flashed a shy smile to the older guy

"Thank you Daddy" she panted, loving the familiar gentle and loving way he looked at her.

Her eyes snapped back to the guy who she still was pumping unconsciously , biting her lips as she muttered "Can I?" she batted her eyelashes at Jungkook and he groaned

"Y..Yesss …" he uttered in impatience and she leaned in wrapping her lip around him "Fuck … I'm not gonna last long baby" he warned and she only took it as an indication that she's doing her job well , bobbing her head on his length.

Jungkook groaned , wrapping both his hands at the back of her head as he stilled in her and released his juices. She tasted his cum , the bitter taste slightly more familiar as she loved to work Jungkook up before their sessions by giving him a good blowjob every time.

"Ughh Fuck …" Jungkook moaned pulling out with a audible pop and she licked her lips clean from the mixture of Jin and Jungkook's cum.

All six men were now seated around her , while she was sitting on Yoongi's lap , feeling his palpable bulge pressing against her ass as he worked his fingers in her core. She was surprised she hasn’t give into the pleasure yet , but one thing for sure , her ab muscles were as sore as her jaw.

She gasped in the sudden emptiness she felt as Yoongi's hands left her core, leaving her clenching around nothing but air for the nth time that night. She looked back at him with lost eyes , meeting his till cold gaze as he brought his fingers up to her lips. She instinctively parted her lips sucking his finger clean , looking for any acknowledgement in the man's eyes for all that she's done the whole night.

But Yoongi knew that longing look too well to give her what she wanted , specially not after she decided to disappoint and disobey him like this.

"We're done for the night …" he declared , his tone cold and harsh

"No Daddy- Aahhh …" she winced as a slap landed on the side of her thighs

"I hope that was enough to remind you who you belong to for now Little girl" Yoongi continued sternly

She sighed , hope faltering away from her eyelids hearing that the guy kept the nickname she hated the most till the end for her. She clutched onto the black shirt that was tightly hugging his broad chest

"Daddy Please … I'll behave … Please …" she pressed desperate kisses across his neck "At least let me please you Daddy … Please …"

His fingers travelled to the strands of her hair , grasping them tightly and pulling her off him "Jimin" he called for the younger guy as he watched the girl sobbing quietly against him

"Yes Hyung?"

"Take our little girl home" he muttered and her sobs turned more erratic "She's grounded for the week"

He breath hitched in her throat , fear creeping under her skin. She's been grounded before , in the past two year , very rarely , only enough to count with one of her hands. Its been mostly for a day or two so she would have time to reflect and learn but a week … she was already feeling a panic rushing in her veins.

"No Yoongi Please- Aaahhh " she called the name immediately receiving a harsh tug on her scalp

"I'm not Yoongi for you little girl …" he shouted and all six guys gasped as they shifted on their seat uncomfortably "Its Daddy for you" he said In a firm but rageful tone

If she was slightly hopeful that he might soften on her mistake , that slip of her tongue and calling him inappropriately was enough to tick the last box on her strikes. She was officially on his blacklist now.

"You're going with the maknaes … Daddy has some business with the friend you found earlier that needs to finish with others"

"No … please … Daddy … I'm sorry please don’t lock me up … I swear I'll do better" she begged holding onto the collar of his shirt helplessly

Jungkook took his coat off covering the girl's naked body with it before hugging her off and placing her over his muscular shoulder. She struggled , wailing and crying over his shoulder like a little kid While Taehyung and Jimin followed him through the back door of their room to their car.

"Hyung … for a week?" Hoseok enquired looking at the older male who reached for the glass of whisky on the table and gulped down the whole content in a shot "She cant take it … She hates being alone the most. "

"Jung Hoseok" his furious eyes wandered on the younger who gulped upon hearing his name "Since when do you doubt my decisions?"

"I'm sorry Hyung" he quickly said lowering his gaze

"Hyung , did you search their location up?" Yoongi asked , his tired gaze travelling to the older male

"I did … the informants told me that they’re at the Mesh Bar" Seokjin nodded resting his back on the couch as he was scrolling through his phone

"What do you wanna do with him Hyung?" Namjoon asked , his voice still unsure "I mean I know we've been topping them but they're still fucking EXO … we cant just step over one of their members and expect nothing"

"I just need to have a quick talk with that guy … Just enough to make sure he goes around and talks about it." Yoongi replied his eyes fixed at the wall across him

"You want to publicly mark her as ours Hyung?" Hoseok asked , voice slightly anxious and excited

" This happened because we kept her on the low , nothing good is coming out of hiding her anyways. She might try this again and the only way to stop it is to officially mark her as an ownership of BTS" Yoongi stated and the younger guys nodded

"Min Yoongi , You know this will put her in danger right?" Seokjin enquired with furrowed eyebrows

"She is a bigger danger than us for herself Hyung" Yoongi said , his voice sounding slightly anxious and tired despite his usual authoritative and strong aura.

A silence filled the room , the 4 guys all drifting to their own minds as they started contemplating the decision their leader taken for the girl's future.

Hey everyone!!

Hope you enjoyed this one shot I may or may have not write in two days haha!!

Please comment , reblog or submit any asks if you’re curious about anything!!

Love Ya’ll

2K notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

Three’s a crowd

| 10 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation…

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader, Seokjin/Reader

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 8.5k

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Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

You were collapsed against the futon couch, your stomach exposed to the warm humid air of the room from the shitty cropped Toyko style shirt you wore and the high waisted gym shorts would’ve done some justice to your exposed skin had it not showed your legs like a swimsuit. But the least of your concerns was the skin you were showing as you chugged the beer in your hand like it was koolaid.

Hoseok clacked his tongue as he curved a brow, “Maybe you should take it easy Y/n...you have to open shop with Taehyung tomorrow.”

“Dude, she just watched someone get his head broken in like a pinata,” Taehyung hummed, fingers stroking through your hair soothingly, your head currently laid in his lap as he continued, “I think she has a good reason to drink.”

You sighed, forcing yourself to stop chugging as you set the beer down on the coffee table before curling back against the warmth of his lap, his fingers continued threading into your hair. All you wanted was that horrid memory erased from your mind, you wished you could get the detailed of the man’s splattered blood and chunks of brain out of your memory. But every graphic memory was seared into your memory.

The biggest memory was Jungkook’s expression, he was a totally different person, was that who he truly was? You would’ve expected someone more like Jimin to be tangled up in whatever it was that he was involved in, but no. It was Jungkook, and he was clearly proud of it. Or something like that…? “Fuck…” You groaned, pushing your hands onto your face, “All I wanted was free vacation…”

“Mmm guess everything really does come with a price huh.” Hoseok hummed out, feeling Taehyung shove him only to shove back unappreciative. You had ignored them both though, your phone left further on the futon that had been pulled out, you had instantly blocked Jungkook’s number, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had tried to get a hold of you.

With your mother's engagement official, and her being so close to Jungkook’s mother, you doubt that was going to be the last time you saw him. But dread only filled you at the thought. When had things become so messy between you both?

“You think a hitman’s gonna lynch me now?” You asked weakly, making both of them snort laughs before trying to cough to cover it. Taehyung had pulled you up to sit upright before encasing you in his arms, “Hey if you die, I die.”

Leave it to that loveable dumbass to proclaim you’d die together. For the first time in forever you weren’t flinching and trying to claw your way out of his grasp. Instead you found yourself leaning into the large oversized black hoodie, the warmth of his body emitting against you as you gave a contented hum.

Hoseok gave that bright smile he was famous for as he laughed, leaning into his seat as he tipped his beer towards you both, “Alright I’ll be here to pay for the funeral when you fuckers die.”

They both began laughing and slowly, you could feel the tip of your mouth curve up, warmth squeezing into your chest at the normality. You had finally survived the week, you survived and now things would go back to the way they were.

But strangely enough, you had a bad feeling, things were going to be anything but normal anymore.

The night had continued on, eventually cutting off the alcohol intake as you gave them all of the details of the events that took place throughout the week and you had figured your friend’s would’ve started picking teams, but much to your surprise. Neither of them seemed to like Jimin or Jungkook, “But why…” You furrowed your brows in surprise.

Hoseok was the first to speak, his lip wrinkling in disgust, “First of all, Jimin sounds like an asshole. I mean he blew your back out...literally, but at what cost? Who the fuck would say that too you, you are not a dime a dozen.”

You winced at the venom in his voice, the protective side he was all too well known for showing as he continued, “And furthermore, Jungkook...okay I’ll admit I didn’t think he was that bad of a kid until you told us about the whole fiancee thing. That was the first red flag for me. But now the whole murder thing? I don’t know if it’s mafia related but you do not need to be involved in that shit.”

“Yeah I agree,” Taehyung hummed, a fair bit more relaxed then Hoseok, who’s shoulders were tensed and his jaw clenched at the idea, “I think it’s for the best that things played out the way they did. You’re better off without either of them, for now at least. Maybe things will change in the future.” He shrugged, looking a little more open to the idea then Hoseok did.

And you could tell Hoseok didn’t agree with him either, but refrained from saying so. Sighing you supposed they did have a point, it was better this way. For things to get back to the way they were before, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that things had definitely changed.

Yesterday night had changed your life, in a lot more ways than one.

You had stood still for a moment, taking in a deep breath at the mouth watering smell of the bakery first thing in the morning. More days than less, you had gotten used to the smell, but having the week off had made your body unfamiliar with your long time work place once more. Allowing you to enjoy the warm comforting smell.

Often times when you were younger, Mr Kim would let you and Taehyung eat from the first batch of muffins if you hadn’t eaten that morning. You had a lot of fond memories in this old beat up place.

You jumped slightly at the plate that was plotted in front of you with a large blueberry muffin. Taehyung eagerly shoving it towards you as he pushed the muffin he was currently devouring further in his mouth, “Eat it, I know you want too.” You could barely make out what he had said, his mouth too stuffed to genuinely talk.

Rolling your eyes despite the smile on your lips you picked up the sweet treat, nibbling on the side as you hummed. The muffin was still warm and had a sprinkling of sugar on the top, mixing it nicely with the tart taste of the blueberries. Damn you really loved this shop, “Hey Tae.”

“Hm?” Taehyung hummed out, placing his half ate muffin on the counter top before going to the large mixing bowl, finishing the rest of the muffin batch.

“Did she ever come and get the rest of her shit?” You had wheeled past him towards the coffee machine, needing something to wash down your throat. You weren’t a huge coffee drinker but it smelled so good, it was difficult to resist when it was right in front of you.

Taehyung’s lips twitched slightly in annoyance at just the thought of her, huffing he nodded, “Yeah, pretty much, she just has one more round to make before she’s gone for good.” He suddenly scoffed as he turned towards you, “You wanna know what she told me?”

You furrowed your brows, pressing the cup to your lips as you let the hot bitter liquid wash down your throat, “What?”

“That I was ‘more than free to go with her’ as if I’d ever actually do that.” Taehyung had that all too familiar broody look on his face as his shoulders hung, pulling up the 24 pan tray as you opened the oven door for him. You only sighed though, you couldn’t really blame him for being angry with his mom. She was the one who had turned out to be a gold digger, leaving his dad because he wasn't ‘rich enough’.

“She actually thinks you’re on her side during all of this?” You raised your brows expectantly. No matter what, you were always going to side with your friends, sure you might try and give them a voice of reason (just like they did for you) but if they were hurt, especially like this. Well you assumed their anger was justified.

Hearing the door of the shop ring you had made your way out to the register as Taehyung followed sighing, “No, I don’t think so. I made it pretty damn clear when she offered that I wasn’t interested. Besides we’re shacking up soon, right?”

You greeted the customer with the best smile you could muster while taking their order. A large piece of coffee cake and a grande americano was easy enough, shit coffee cake sounded really good right now. Your stomach growled in objection as you set up the plate and Taehyung had got to work on the coffee, “As of right now yeah, I was dead ass serious when I texted you that. But what about you though? Is your dad gonna be okay?”

You glanced over at him, the sleeves to his black hoodie pushed up to his elbows and his sandy brown hair was messy and covered over his eyebrows, Taehyung gave a hum in thought before shrugging, “Nah, I think he’ll be fine, he’s still hurt yeah. But it’s been over a year, old mans actually been on my ass for awhile now about moving out. Kinda works out for me too.”

You had moved to the far left end of the counter that had been opened on both sides, setting down the plate as Taehyung moved to set the coffee beside it calling out the order number before moving back to the register.

“Alright cool, so I was thinking maybe we should start looking for a new place though, the contract was signed under both my mom and me and when she ends the lease I’m not sure if they’ll let me resign with someone new. The landlord's picky as hell with who lives there.”

“In beatshitville? The fuck?” Taehyung snorted a laugh as you shrugged while throwing up your hands, “Alright sounds fine with me, never really cared for your place anyways.” Taehyung nodded. You weren’t too surprised by his words, it’s not like you lived in the best neighborhood in the world, while you’d give it decent at best it still wasn’t the greatest, “Oh by the way, I was thinking about picking up a second job too, any recommendations?”

You curved a brow at his words, not too shocked by them, unless you both were willing to downgrade in house rent he’d have to get a second job as well, “Well Heaven's Best is always looking for strippers.” You snorted a loud laugh as Taehyung rolled his eyes near close to the back of his head, “All I’m saying is it’s really not a bad place, they’ll teach you pole for free with that face.”

“Yeah and the manager would probably want me to suck his dick in compensation.” Taehyung rolled his eyes again as he began cleaning off the counter, he said no more but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he was actually considering. Not that you really wanted him to take the job offer but it really wasn’t all too bad of a jig- temporarily speaking.

The rest of the day went by within a blink of an eye and before you knew it, you were closing shop at seven, you had all agreed to go out before you and Hoseok headed into work for dinner, or well breakfast for Hoseok. But still it was a nice time slot for tonight’s shift, which you wouldn’t be starting until nine.

Hoseok gave a big yawn, stretching out in his long sleeve, you were honestly surprised he wasn’t too hot in as he ran a hand through his hair, “Oh I don’t know if it means anything to you but you might wanna take a look at this.”

You were confused for a minute, pausing from the noodles you had currently been devouring before slurping the remaining that hung from your lips, watching him pull out his phone. Fuck, what was that supposed to mean? You hated cliffhangers.

Hoseok handed his phone towards you as you glanced towards the screen, a little confused at first before swearing under your breath, “Motherfucker.” Weren’t camera’s not supposed to be allowed on the VIP floor of the casino? It was a picture of you and Jungkook, both of your backs turned thank god, you were perched up on his lap while playing that game of poker.

The photo was grainy and maybe took off of a phone…? You knew for a fact that there was no way photo’s could’ve been allowed on that floor. Who the fuck sold it to media?

“So it was you?” Hoseok sighed as you handed the phone back to him, your hands instantly covered your face, both in embarrassment and self hatred. You did a good job of forgetting about Jungkook for the day, but that photo had let all of those memories rush back to your head.

It’s not like they knew it was you though, the headline had said it was Jungkook and Jae just the day before their engagement had been announced. Which also confirmed that he had made it official that night of the party. You had been avoiding social media for that very reason.

Taehyung instantly grabbed the phone from him to see before giving a low whistle, “Well we only know because you literally just confirmed it.”

“What if my mom see’s this!?” You screeched out, sure your friends couldn’t tell it was you but what if your mom did? She knew you from the inside out, you wouldn’t be surprised if she knew it was you just by your back, or the color of your hair, hell maybe even your ears. You just didn’t know!

Hoseok shrugged before snatching his phone back from Taehyung, “I doubt it, Y/n you’re too worried, besides i’d be a little more concerned about fucking a mobster the entire week.”

“He isn’t a mobster!” You cried out with a whisper, pressing your hands into your head at his words looking distressed. There was no way Jungkook was a mobster! You just couldn’t imagine those sweet, doe eyes filling that role. You weren’t sure what he was, but that couldn’t have been the case. Right?

Taehyung had been trying his best to not laugh but was failing miserably as he let the laughter bubble in his throat, Hoseok had began to join in with him and as much as you tried to stay serious it didn’t work, letting the smile take over your lips as you sighed. Rolling your eyes as you stirred your drink around, “He isn’t a mobster guys.” You murmured softly, a little more serious than before, “I don’t know what he is, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Maybe you should unblock him and just ask?” Hoseok offered, fiddling with his chopsticks before shrugging altogether, Hoseok was the most pragmatic of the three of you and you knew he wouldn’t be suggesting it if he didn’t fully think it was a good idea, “I mean he was gonna explain when you first saw, right?”

You thought over the memory again, it was still a bit vague and the shock of the whole event had made it very hazy for you. You didn’t remember much of the night after that, just waking up in the airplane the next day, “I don’t know Hobi….I mean I don’t remember a lot but I’m pretty sure I was the one who told him to stay away. It feels a bit hypocritical to go and hit him up after saying that.”

“Yeah but you were in shock, that was just a knee jerk reaction,” Taehyung chimed in, ignoring his half ate fajita as he pointed his chopsticks at you, “You said he wanted to get with you, right? And not just for a good fuck.”

You facepalmed before glancing around the shop, did he have to talk so loud? “Yeah but…”

“Then he’s probably wanting to at least explain himself. You should give him the chance to do that before cutting ties...unless his dick is that good then- hey!” Taehyung whined as you smacked his arm with a glare. You didn’t need to hear this right now, the last thing on your mind was his body when he just killed someone.

“I don’t know guys, I’ll think about it but right now…I think I just need some space. Beside’s he just went public with Jae, getting near him with a ten foot pole is social suicide.” You sighed as you leaned against your hand on the table, it was the truth honestly. Right now you needed time to digest everything that had happened before approaching him, if at all.

Your friends hummed in agreement before continuing the conversation elsewhere. Should you really talk to him though? You wouldn’t deny you wanted answers, a lot. You needed some sort of explanation because you were desperately wanting to hold onto the idea that Jungkook was still a good person, that he wasn’t someone who had just pretended.

He seemed so authentic, if he had genuinely tricked you...you were almost certain your faith in whatever was left in humanity would be lost. But another part of you was too scared to try, the icy look of his face, void of any emotion still haunted you when there was a moment your thoughts weren’t occupied. Did you really want to find out the answer?

You sunk back into your seat, forcing yourself back into the conversation of your friends. It wouldn’t do you any good simmering over it, things were back to normal now, right? Who cared.

“So...basically you’re telling me this guy went hack saw murder on the coffee pot?” You furrowed your brows at the glass scattering across the vacant room, the sheets were fumbled and torn up making the slight creak of the fan above all the more ominous. Not that it actually scared you, but you supposed those who weren’t used to your job would’ve been a little freaked out.

Hoseok hummed with a shrug as he grabbed the broom from the cart, “Yeah basically, didn’t they pass a rule about appliances being left out of the patients rooms?”

“That was allowed in the first place?” You snorted a scoff, raising your brows as you went to work on the bed, pulling the ragged blank off before folding it up, tossing it on the cart while getting to work on the tattered sheet. Damn did these patients have some strong muscles to be tearing this shit up.

Hoseok glanced back over towards you before shrugging, “Well don’t take my word for it. All I wanna know is how he got it in here. I think they had to wheel him to the ER.”

The screams of the guy had died down the echoing hallway as you both stood still for a moment before resuming your tasks, “Did he slit his wrists?” You hummed out, taking note of the fresh blood that oozed from the bed, dripping down to the floor.

“On accident, I think.” Hoseok answered, stepping over the new pile of glass to get the dustpan, sighing as he glanced towards the door, “Don’t you ever feel bad for them? The patients?”

You licked your lips for a moment, giving it some thought. You wouldn’t necessarily say you pitied them, pity wouldn’t fix their minds. But you did wish them the best, you knew first hand how much it taxed your best friend, “Nah, they aren’t broken Hobi...just different.” You finally answered, it was how you felt. It wasn’t the patients fault they were born with the mental illnesses they had, or how they had developed over time.

But that didn’t make them less human than anyone else, they deserved love and compassion too, “They need people like you helping them Hobi, y’know? Some of the people working here are only doing it for the pay grade and it shows.”

You both knew that was true, it wasn’t a secret that psych nurses were paid well for their line of work. But some of them treated the patients so coldly, it really did show in the patients attitude. You were being honest, Hoseok was such a sweetheart to all the patients, you knew he’d be a good addition to the team here. If he got hired on but that was a whole other problem in itself.

You both finished up cleaning out the room before steering the cart away, stretching out with a long yawn. Damn you forgot how tiring this really was on such little sleep. It was only 1 AM but you weren’t even halfway through shift, it was gonna be a long night.

Hearing scuffling of shoes though made you both pause for a second before shrugging, “You know this is against the rules!”

“It’s her kid he’s almost graduated anyways he can help!” Both you and Hoseok turned around at the bickered words of two of the nurses, they were paused a little ways away from you and they were familiar enough. You didn’t know them by name but Hoseok had knew them both enough. The one on the left stepped forward ignoring her friend as she called out, “Hoseok, we really need some help. She’s having an episode and she keeps asking for you.”

“Where is she?” Hoseok instantly strode over with you in suit, not a single drop of hesitation on his face as he inquired further. But the nurses both turned around showing him the way rather than speaking. You didn’t have to go, but you weren’t sure what was going on, all you knew was the word ‘episode’ in the ward was bad and you knew he could handle his mother but what about after?

Both of the nurses stopped outside of the room where you jolted at the loud thump and harsh scream, that was definitely his mother. The door quickly opened to reveal one of the other nurses, her breath rapid and her eyes dilated, “Holy shit. Thank god you’re here Jung, are you sure you wanna go through with this?”

“Positive, I have Y/n for back up if I need any help.” He gave a glance towards you, making you give a quick nod in confirmation. You’d go to hell and back for your friends, you were a lot of things in this life, but you were best known for your unwavering loyalty.

The nurses nodded at the crashing and muffled screaming continued from the other side, Hoseok paused in front of the door for a second, taking a breath before you both entered. The room was completely wrecked, the sheets tattered and torn off the bed, feathers from the pillow scattered across the room and his mother.

Yuki was beating her fists against the wall, her hair was ragged and oily but the tears spilling down her face while she wailed something incomprehensible made your heart splinter.

You let Hoseok approach first, his steps with soft and calculated with his gaze focused solely on her, treating her both as if she was delicate porcelain but also like a cornered animal, and you supposed that was a rightful take. His mother looked like such, her eyes were blown out and she looked terrified while pounding her fists against the wall, dark bruises forming on the palms of her hands from the amount of force she had been using.

“Hey, mom it’s me.” Hoseok spoke gently over her wailing to try and not startle her, his hands held slightly in front of him to try and act as a barrier between himself and her if she lashed out, but your sight wasn’t on him anymore, it was on the object in her hand she gripped. You squinted to try and get a fix on it as Hoseok slowly approached closer to her.

Your eyes suddenly widened in realization as you reached out, “Hoseok, wait!” But it was too late, his hand had stretched out to gently grasp her shoulder, causing her to violently whip around and lunge at him with the syringe she had been holding.

You watched in horror but Hoseok had reacted quickly, ducking out of the way only for her to give another loud screech, she had said something but you couldn’t make out her words as she shoved him away.

The strength of patients never ceased to amaze you, you could barely register Hoseok being sent tumbling backwards before her sight suddenly set out you.

The syringe came flying your way as you scrambled to dodge the attack, her movements were fast and sharp compared to your frantic figure as you tried to back away from each of her thrashes towards you. There was only so much space in the room though before your back had hit the wall and Yuki was far too close, she let out another shriek as she slammed the syringe towards you.

Her body near pressing against yours and you barely managed to move your head to the side of her attack in time, the syringe stuck planted far into the wall where your head originally should have been.

After one unsuccessful tug she abandoned it, grabbing your jumpsuit, tears streaming down her face as she shouted something fumbled, something like…..Hoseok?

It sounded similar to his name but you couldn’t think in the moment as she threw you to the ground, but the water falling from her eyes made it difficult for you to want to fight back as you tried to scramble away.

But Yuki had clambered on top of you and all you could feel was the pain throbbing against your face as she slammed her hands down against you with no particular aim in mind, she had kept crying but her force was beginning to weaken as she finally managed to cry out, “Where’s my son!?”

You had tried catching her wrists but her movement was too frantic and for a moment you were beginning to wonder if you were going to pass out. Your head was beginning to feel light and the pressure in your chest from her body weight was beginning to tighten.

“I’m right here mom.”

The pain didn’t cease but the cause of it had, Hoseok had stood behind you both, reach down gripping her upperarms from behind to keep her steady, her breath was ragged and she had almost became like a rag doll as he pulled her off of you, turning her around, “I’m right here.” he murmured more softly.

You couldn’t see her expression, just her choked sobs softening as she murmured, “Hobi.” you collapsed in relief at the sight of her throwing her arms around him into a hug, her crying not ceasing but her volatile state from before being calmed. You aimlessly store up at the ceiling, letting them share their moment together as your hand, shaky from adrenaline lifted up to touch your lip that was in seering pain and an odd wet sensation on your chin.

Gently letting your fingers ghost of the area before lifting them away, sighing again as you closed your eyes, fuck that was blood. She must’ve busted your lower lip during her rounds of hits.

Nothing else was bleeding though, maybe bruising. Probably bruising, but you were familiar enough with that. You had heard Hoseok gently coax her back to sit on the bed an arm wrapped around her shoulders, “Mom lay down, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You good Y/n?” He called out the last part a little louder from his spot on the other side of the bed.

“Peachy.” You replied dryly, the pain still throbbing and your body still pumping with adrenaline from what had just happened. Well, it could’ve been worse. You glanced towards the syringe that was stuck in the wall before sitting up slowly, wiping the blood from your chin despite feeling more trickle down. You’d definitely have to get that cleaned as soon as you weren’t needed here.

Standing up was a bit difficult at first, your head still light and your legs weak but you wobbled over to the wall, giving a good yank from the syringe to pull it from the wall. That could’ve been your head. You cringed slightly as you inspected it, the substance still in there as you hummed. This must’ve been the sedative they were trying to give her before things got out of hand. You glanced back towards Hoseok who had just got her to lay down.

Her eyes were doey and bright just like his but her cheeks were still stained from her tears but even through all the hysteria, she still looked at him like he was her whole world. Briefly you felt the small smile pull on your lips, but deep inside your chest panged with a twinge of jealousy. You could only imagine what it was like, to have someone love you that much. Shaking your head you discarded the thought, what was the use in throwing yourself a pity party? It wasn’t gonna pay the bills.

You walked over glancing towards them both as Hoseok gave you a nod to signal you he had it under control, you had just grabbed the handle when you heard a thrash, turning around in surprise to see Hoseok gently pushing his mother back down despite her insistence, but her eyes were shining on you with a strong determination before she weakly spoke, “I’m...sorry.”

You let your lips squirk into a small smile as she finally laid back down at Hoseok’s insistence, shaking your head as you answered, “It’s okay.” opening the door you gently shut it behind yourself as you sighed.

Looking up to find five nurses standing there waiting with baited breath, you shoved the syringe towards the closest one as you huffed, “She’ll be okay, Hoseok will let you guys know when it’s okay to come in.” but they all store with open mouths at well...yours. Blood dripping off your chin, pattering against the floor but you ignored them as you went to walk down the hall to find the nearest bathroom.

You had been patting down the area on your lower lip for a good ten minutes now, the blood had finally ceased and gave you time to clean down the rest of your chin, no immediate bruising had appeared which was a good thing, now whether they’d be there when you got work at the bakery was...debatable. Sighing you threw away the last piece of bloodied paper towel away as you washed your hands.

Deciding to get the cleaning cart and get back to the vacant rooms, they wouldn’t clean themselves and Hoseok was probably on his way back now, if not already on it. You had got back to the cart before grabbing the clipboard, glancing over the next room number you hadn’t scratched off before making your way over.

Same routine as usual, first take care of the bed, discarding any pillow cases and sheets to take down to the laundry shoot. Next was any split contents or breakables, you had been mopping the floor down when Hoseok had came in, “She good?”

He gave a nod, his expression looked peaceful and he seemed content as he answered, “Yeah, I guess she just had a panic attack about where I was? I don’t know but; she’s okay now. Thanks by the way, you look like shit.”

“As if I don’t always look like shit.” You rolled your eyes but still felt the small smile quirk on your lips, watching him fetch the second mop as he dunked it into the tub you had set out, “Anyway it's not a big deal, I’m just glad she didn’t skewer my head with that syringe, did you see her? She’s fuckin’ flying around the room like jackie chan with that shit.” you both had began laughing as you got to work on the room.

That would be the biggest excitement you’d have for at least a month, you had just finished the room when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket making your brows furrowed. Nobody ever called, it was either text or in person. Digging out your phone as Hoseok turned towards you confused as well. You swallowed thickly, “Fuck.”

“Who is it?”

“Mom.” You replied before answering, worry filling you. She never called unless it was important, and the last time that had happened was well over five years ago, “Hey mom what’s up?” But you couldn’t even keep the casual tone in your voice, the worry invading it as you stood still in the near empty hallway.

But all you could hear at first was crying on the other end and your mom saying something, but she was speaking so fast and her words were so muddled you couldn’t understand, fuck what had happened? Had your dad found out where you lived? “Woah, woah, woah calm down. What happened? Are you okay?” Hoseok had wheeled around, his eyebrows shot up in concern but you had focused entirely on your mothers distressed voice as she gave a shaky inhale.

“B-baby please come home- these people they just,” She let out another sob, her breath hitching again as she fumbled against her words, “They broke in and the house is destroyed sweetie-”

What? Your mind was reeling from her words before cutting her off, “I’ll be home in ten, have you called the police?”

“N-not yet, Seung’s on his way here right now.” She cried out, her voice high pitched and strained as you sighed, running a hand through your hair. Of course she called him first, that didn’t matter right now though, focus Y/n, focus.

“Alright call them, I’ll be home soon.” You hung up the phone before sighing again, your mind still reeling from her words as you finally addressed Hoseok’s slightly distressed figure, looking highly concerned, “Fuck I don’t know. She just said someone...or a group broke in? I don’t know, I have to go Hoseok…”

You finally glanced up at him but he only nodded, “Want me to come with? It sounds bad Y/n…”

“No it’s fine, one of us needs to stay here and finish shift, I’ll keep you updated okay?” He gave one last nod before you hurried to clock out.

Your entire walk home was spent more like a jog and you were nearly out of breath by the time you had arrived.

You heard a small meow making you stop as your brows pressed together, your eyes scanning the hall of the apartment before landing on the familiar black and brown mottled cat, his fur slightly matted and sticking up on the back of his neck and tail fluffed out as if he had been spooked, “Twix, what are you doing out here baby?” You cried out, the cat quickly came running up as you picked him up, he let out another meow as you tenderly stroked him before going up to your apartment.

The key in hand except your mouth gaped at the sight of the door being forced open, wood scattered across the ground and all it took was a small push for it to open. Your lips fell open in shock at the sight before you, the once small but cozy living room ripped to shreds, everything torn up and thrown all over the place, stuffing from the couch cushions had spread across the floor and what little glassware you had set out was shattered to pieces.

You let Twix jump from your arms as they fell numbly against your sides, what the fuck.

Everything hadn’t just been ruined, it was completely destroyed, all the various knick knacks you had found over the years, the loveseat you and your mom had been so excited to get for her 40th birthday, even the little set of paintings you had bought at the thrift store when you had first moved in were holed and crushed on the ground.

You hadn’t realized how many memories and moments had been ingrained in this shitty little apartment until you stood there, with all of it crushed to rubble in front of you. But your logical side was kicking in as you realized all of this wasn’t for nothing. No, this looked like a raid, like they were searching for something. Nothing had been stolen.

Your mother suddenly appeared, tears streaming down her face as she hurried towards you, throwing her arms around you as she sobbed into your neck, but your mind was numb still reeling from the sight before you. Who would do this? And more importantly, why?

“Look I don’t know okay? I work two jobs and I’m barely home five hours a day, why would I have any ‘enemies’ who’d do this.” You snapped out harshly, it was close to four in the morning and you were too tired to answer anymore questions. The officer took down another note, looking more patient than you.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you understood how it looked, you were beaten to a pulp and dead tired but you didn’t get into fights, not ones that would escalate to this. But the officer shifted his weight as he glanced back up at you, “I’m not accusing you of anything Ms L/n, but I need you to think, has there been anything strange you’ve seen lately, do you know anyone that could have caused this to happen?”

His words suddenly triggered your memory, the memory of Jungkook...the gun....the body. You swallowed all of your emotions back down your throat, this couldn’t be connected to that. Right?

“No, I’m positive sir.” He didn’t look sold but gave one late nod before finishing the interview.

You sighed, leaning back against the wall as you heard a meow and a tiny body brush against your leg, glancing down you watched as your cat, Twix looked up at you, meowing again as if sensing your distressed mood. Sighing you leaned down as you let him rub against your hand, a purr erupting from his throat in contentment, your lips twitched into a ghost of a smile briefly.

“You okay?”

And just like that, it disappeared, your frown taking its rightful place on your lips as you glanced up to one of the few people you had assumed you would only have to rarely see. Jimin stood tall, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, expression unreadable making you scoff, a more bitter smile playing on your lips as you replied, “Peachy, why do you care?”

“While it may come as a shock to you Y/n,” Jimin finally gave a weary smile, shifting is weight and his eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement as he continued, “I’m not heartless.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, glancing at him as if searching for any visible signs because you really weren’t sure, was he heartless? He didn’t seem so sweet at Dark Ace’s anniversary party. But at the moment, you couldn’t detect a trace of mockery or condescending that had taken place previously in his demeanor.

Jimin held down a hand too you in offering as he spoke up, “Your house just got broken into and you look like you went through a garbage disposal, it’d be hard to not feel at least a little sorry for you.”

It was hard to not smile even a tiny bit at the return of his smartass tone, making you roll your eyes exasperatedly as you grabbed his hand, letting him help you up as you muttered, “Asshole.”

Jimin wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder as he guided you back towards the living room, “Yeah well come on loser, you’re staying over the night with your mom.” It felt a bit odd, having his arm around you, and his words so casual. But they felt okay, and that was what you needed at the moment, you needed okay.

Any other day you would have objected but you were tired and your work schedule had already resumed it’s draining hold on you. Jimin had lead you back out to the living room where Seung had been soothing your mother, it was mutually agreed you’d spend the night at their estate until you could work things out in the morning.

That’s how you found yourself laying against the queen sized plush bed, but you were anything but sleepy now, your mind racing trying to sort through everything that had happened. And eventually by six you had texted your friends

Sighing you realized you’d need to get a shower and breakfast before going to the bakery, hopefully whatever your mother had planned would be discussed within the next few hours before you departed. The hot water seemed to be the only remedy for your dull mind as it pounded against your back, forcing your muscles into relaxation. Eventually you did step out of the shower and reality had hit you again much to your displeasure. You had mindlessly got changed before exiting the room. The estate was, well an estate. It was massive.

Why was there so many vacant rooms? What purpose did they serve? Was having this big of a house necessary? Briefly you glanced around as you stepped down the stairs, this would be your mother's new home. And as much as you despised the upcoming wedding, you were secretly relieved. She’d be well taken care of at least. You wouldn’t have to spend day and night worrying about her from now on.

You’d be able to just get through day in and day out without any worries. It would nice actually. The more you thought about it the more you came to terms with, while this change in life wasn’t very pleasant. You could make the most of it.

Now sitting down at the large table being told you were staying with Seung until the police got to the bottom of who raided your apartment? That instantly crushed what little positivity you had gained. Your mom was spouting it out as if she didn’t quite understand what volatile reaction bubbled beneath your quiet exterior, had it not been for both Seung and Jimin being present you would’ve instantly lost your shit.

Jimin had leaned back in his chair, a loose white sweatshirt on and a case of bedhead to match, he looked tired but it didn’t stop his curiosity as he watched between both you and your mom. He knew how you felt about the whole situation so you couldn’t necessarily get mad at him for being interested in your reaction.

But you weren’t going to give in right now, no matter how much you wanted too. No matter how badly you just wanted to scream fuck at the top of your lungs and slam your head into a wall. You didn’t want to be an adult and deal with it, but you needed too. And given Seung was going to be your stepfather- the idea made you shudder, and it felt wrong but that's besides the point-

It was far too early for you to feel comfortable enough to deny the idea- both physically and in aspect of their relationship. It wasn’t like you’d be home all that much anyways, but the few hours you were...well you wanted to be in your own home.

“Y’know…” You drew out, forcing your mother to pause. You had swore every time you weren’t going to do this, and yet here you were speaking anyways. You could only hope Seung and Jimin would be leverage to keep her from lashing out at you, “It’s really not that big of a deal. I mean...I can understand you wanting to stay here but...Well I’m not home much to begin with- And don’t get me wrong,” you rushed quickly glancing to Seung, “It’s not that I don’t want to stay-” don’t fucking lie Y/n “I just feel like I’m intruding a bit...I just think it would be better if I went ahead and just cleaned up the apartment and resettled. Consider me dumb but- I don’t think it’s gonna happen again.”

Those words were ones you firmly believed, whatever they had been looking for, they didn’t find. Therefore your apartment was useless, which also meant they’d leave it alone. You just couldn’t believe it was really a one man operation- or a stray burglar- no valuables in your house had been taken. If there was one thing you prided yourself on- it was your intelligence- albeit you didn’t use it very often...but when you did, it didn’t take much to figure things out.

But just one glance at your mother and you knew you fucked up, her shoulders were tense and she had that rigid expression she always had when she didn’t agree with you. Her jaw was clenched a classic sign of her trying not to snap at you due to being in the presence of others.

Jimin had leaned back in his seat, the glass of water pressed against his lips as if trying to hide his dumb smile at the scene unfolding. You almost felt like you fell into an invisible trap set by him but- dammit this wasn’t about him! Focus Y/n!

But before your mother could speak Seung had beat her to it, his expression the exact opposite of hers, expression soft and warm making you feel all different kinds of level of discomfort, “You aren’t a burden Y/n, we aren’t trying to strip you of your freedom we just want you to be safe,” He explained delicately and while you understood- they couldn’t seem to with the fact that you could take care of yourself.

You were beginning to feel the familiar bubble of frustration inside you, how many times did you have to say that before someone would believe you? “While I do think you’re correct in your assessment. I also don’t want to take that risk, I hope you can understand.”

It felt like you didn’t even have a choice.

Sinking into your seat you sighed, giving a reserved nod. But your head was already turning, you had a bad habit of ignoring people’s decision when it affected you. At the end of the day, you were the one looking out for yourself. And if there was one thing you couldn’t stand, it was someone making a decision- assuming they knew what was best for you- without even consulting you about it. You got it, it was done out of some sort of notion for care but all it did was irk you.

Maybe you were being unreasonable, all you had complained about was not getting put first, and now that you were, maybe you were being an unreasonable bitch about it. But the fact of the matter was you weren’t being put first, no this was about your mother. What she wanted. And right now she wanted you in this god awful estate because she wouldn’t cut the fucking apron strings- No she refused too.

You hadn’t realized how rapidly your heartbeat was, or how tightly you had clenched your hands into fists in a bout of simmering anger, you abruptly stood up from your chair making everyone’s gaze jump to you suddenly, “I should get going for work. I won’t be back until late morning so I’ll see everyone later.”

You didn’t wait for any goodbyes as you left. You hadn’t gotten so worked up in awhile and when you got like this your mouth would open and pour out words like a faucet. There was no stopping your brutality when that happened. And honestly? You didn’t need to add that on to the list of things that had happened in your life after everything within the past week.

You had barely made it out the door when you heard it open again, “I swear to fuck-” you muttered under your breath turning around in anticipation of your mom ready to chew your ass out. Instead you found Jimin walking down the steps with a yawn, keys in one hand with the other in the pocket of his hoodie.

Squinting your eyes into a suspicious glance only made him laugh, the lazy smile on his lips as he curved a brow, “What the fuck is your problem? I’m driving you to work, come on.” He breezed past you like the asshole he was, walking towards the garage as he called over your shoulder, “I’ll leave without you.”

“And go where?” You snorted indignantly, following behind despite not being in the mood to chat, you weren’t sure what his deal was anymore. First he said, and in quotes ‘a dime a dozen’ in realms of fucking, and now he wanted to act like prince charming? You fucking hated guys, they were so dumb it made you livid!

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll go without you and get something to eat.” Jimin shrugged, even having the audacity to throw you a cheeky smile as your glare heightened but you got in the car anyways. The silver corvette was sleek and comfy and still had that new car smell. It hadn’t even been a full two minutes before he finally asked the golden question, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Do I look like I want to fucking live with you both!? No offense but I’d rather get railroaded by a goddamn golf cart before that happens.” You sputtered out instantly, throwing your hands all over the place as you ranted.

Jimin had only curved an amused eyebrow before prodding you further, “Why use the term railroad when you mean run over?”

“Does that fucking matter!? Our parents are getting married! My house just got fucking raided by some elite spec ops bullshit and don’t even get me started about the anniversary party fucking hell!” You snapped back animatedly, “If I want to use the wrong term I will!”

“Alright, alright, calm down doll I was just joking,” Jimin surrendered though he didn’t look very sorry as he parked in the lot of the bakery, “Try and cool off, when do you get off work?”

You squinted at him again, refraining from going batshit insane at his words ‘calm down’ you were being perfectly calm. Gnawing against your lip in contemplation before finally huffing, “Seven why? I have to get to my other job by 9.”

Jimin clacked his tongue, “Because I’m picking you up, don’t be so sour. I’ll even get you something to eat.”

But your face only soured more, saying nothing in return as you exited the car, ready to throw yourself onto Taehyung and bitch his ear off the entire morning on why you wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow you whole.

Note: Happy friday everyone! I’m sorry it took me 10 chapters to finally introduce her cat.

Taglist: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat @mrsfandomz @cainami @nininek12 @loveherpersona @expensive-bangtan-girl @yoongnysus @sugajinny @peachy-bhun

(Let me know if you’d like to be added! )

#bts #bangtan #jungkook #jimin #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts au #bts ceo au #jungkook x reader x jimin #three's a crowd

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weretheoneswhowrite · 6 years ago

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Lyrical Prompt Series...

We see that you all enjoyed part one of this mini fic. It’s time to heat things up in here. We wont keep you waiting any longer. Please enjoy the finale of this story.

WTOWW would like to send a special thank you to @mannarn who came up with this special prompt idea. Thank you for revealing yourself so we can give you proper credit, you are appreciated.

All The Things

(Part II)

“You’re still here,” Michonne said. Rick’s face wore a surprised expression.

“And you’re back,” Rick said when Michonne stood next to the barstool.

“I’m back.” She placed her clutch on the counter and sat on the stool next to him. “I’m taking you up on that offer.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” He turned to the guy to the right of him. “I was talking to David here about a property for lease downtown.”

A bellow of a laugh escaped David. “This man could sell water to a Well without even trying.” David sat his drink down and got off the barstool. “Whooo. That’s my limit right there. Alicia would raise hell if I came back too drunk. It was nice talking to you. Next time you're in LA we’ll talk.” He turned to Michonne. “Nice meeting you, sugar.”

Michonne smiled and watched Rick shake the man's hand and then turn to her. “Want the same thing you had earlier?”

“Actually, I think I just want some water. I shouldn’t keep up with the drinking. I’m finally starting to sober up.”

“Fair enough.” He inhaled an audible breath. “How was your anniversary dinner?

Michonne laughed. “It was a...dinner.”

“I’m sure it was better than that? You get a nice gift?”

“We exchanged gifts earlier today. Well, he left me this necklace. It was in a pretty blue box with a white bow.” Rick seemed unimpressed as she spoke. She wondered why? “What’s that face for?”

“Um. I mean…” Rick teetered his head side to side.

“Spill it. I won’t be mad,” she interjected.

“It’s pretty...the necklace. Really beautiful and probably cost a fortune. But...it’s not you.”

Michonne thought it hilarious that he could assume anything about her. Especially when it came to her taste in things. “Oh, and so you know what I like?”

“I didn’t say all of that. But I can tell that there’s just a simple, beautiful woman under all of this. And don’t get me wrong, everything about you is beautiful.” He smiled and took the last swallow of his drink. “But give me some time and I’ll get to know you inside and out.”

He glanced her way. She stared at him, he stared back, and the volume of the guests voices muddled around her. “All you need is time, huh?”

“That and other...things.” He nodded his head as if internally agreeing with the thoughts that ran through his mind. A swift pivot on the barstool and he stood next to her. Michonne’s skin felt warm to the touch. Could she breathe? It didn’t matter because when he placed his hand right at the small of her back she caught on fire. He bent low and whispered in her ear. “Where’s your husband?”

The swell of her perky breasts heaved up and down as his finger traced small, soft lines along her back. She tried not to close her eyes as he did the motion...torturously teasing her just so slow. Michonne turned her face and looked around to see if anyone noticed what this tempting man did to her now.

“He’s going to his office.” She dared to look him in his face. His stare made her lose her breath.

“You two aren’t...celebrating anymore tonight?” His fingers slid against the zipper of her dress, imitating the motion of undoing it.

Michonne shook her head, nearly about to faint. Her and Jason had a decent sex life she thought, but her husband had been distant more and more lately. A few weeks had passed since they fucked, and it was lackluster. Brought on because she made a fuss about him not being intimate with her in so long.

“No. He said it was important.”

“So after you left your husband, what were your plans for the evening?” He sat back down and grabbed her hand. There he went with the rubbing again. His fingertips grazed over her palm and the gentle caress made close her eyes slightly.

This feeling. This...emotion taking over her, she still couldn’t breathe. “I don’t know. I was going to go home, but I changed my mind.”

“I wonder why?” His voice was deep, but inviting. She wanted him to talk to her like that forever.

“Me too.” God, he wouldn’t stop with the touching. She looked around once more to see if anyone noticed, and suddenly found herself not caring.

“I won’t lie Michonne, I want to spend some time with you. I know that you are a married woman, so I will control every urge I have to not touch you any more than I’m doing now. You gotta understand that the sight of you is driving me wild, so it has been difficult. Maybe we could go someplace and get more...acquainted?”

And there it was. A decision. She had to make it and she had to make it now. Michonne proved to be a smart woman and knew the path she walked. If she came back in here then she wanted whatever was about to happen. And damn it, did she need it.

“Okay.” She looked at him and nod her head, amazed that the words were about to flow from her mouth. “Maybe we can go someplace quiet and...talk.”

The line. She was crossing it.

“Yeah?” he asked searching her face.

Did she want this? “Yeah,” she heard herself respond. She wanted this… whatever was to come.

Rick seemed surprised she agreed so easily. He made no habits of talking to married women in the manner that he had with Michonne, but...there was something about her. Some feeling overcame him from deep down in his gut. He stood and picked up his jacket tossing across his arm.

“Meet me on the side of the building in ten minutes. I’m driving a black Camaro.”

“Okay,” she simply said.

“If I don’t see you in ten, I’ll assume you wanted to not do this. And that is fine. More than fine. I am an understanding man.”

She swallowed hard and looked at his lips. Her mind pictured them kissing her shoulder, her lips...other places that tingled with want.

“Okay.” Michonne barely breathed now. Her pulse was thready and getting more pronounced. She felt heat trail from her stomach all the way to her head.

The moment he was out of sight Michonne called the bartender to her. “Can I get a shot of vodka? Top shelf,” she added. When he brought her the shot she tossed it back quickly and looked at the time. Eight minutes. She had eight minutes to back out of this.

“Will.” She held up one finger to the bartender. “One more. I’ll take one more of the same.” She tossed another one back. Her nerves.

What was she about to do? Did she want to do this? Did she know what it meant if she did? Michonne was scared to death, but why not? Why not?

Why not? She left the restaurant and found him around the corner, his back rested against the car. Rick looked like a model with his ankles crossed and hands in his pocket. His smile stretched wide when he saw her approach.

“You came.” He uncrossed his legs and stood.

“I came.”

Rick opened the door and reached for her hand. “Is it wrong for me to be excited about that.”

“No,”she quietly said as he helped her into the car. Here she was...in his car.

“That’s good to know,” he closed her door and quickly rushed to his side.

His car was made in 1978, but fully remodeled and detailed. The black seats felt like butter beneath her and she liked how they sat, worn but comfortable. “It was my dads car. He’s still living and wanted to sell it. I bought it from him. He’s too proud to take my money for bills any other way, so it was a win-win.”

“You probably have a lot of memories with it?”

Rick smiled patting the dashboard. “I used to steal this baby on weeknights and meet up with the guys to go fishing or drink beers at the lake.”

She smiled seeing if she could picture him as a teenager. Probably as wild and free as he is now. “We’ll, it’s a beautiful car.”

“Thank you. You look good in it.” He cut his eye towards her.

She rubbed her hands against the leather. “Thank you.” After finally getting off the highway, she noticed the smell of the air. Soon after she began spotting rows of boats. Shorts and small ones. Longer ones. There was a large yacht and a couple of smaller ones sitting next to it on either side of it.

“Are we going sailing?”

“Well, I have a little boat and I do a some sailing when I come to LA. I thought if we wanted...discretion...this would be best?”

He didn’t look at her,but Michonne looked at him. She completely agreed. The wife of a well-known producer shouldn’t be seen at a hotel with someone other than her husband. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Do you want to just call it a night? I’ll completely understand-“

“No!” She said quickly. “No, I don’t.” Michonne tried not to seem anxious.

Rick stared at the road as he made a turn into the parking lot, a small smile crossing his lips. “Okay.”

He parked his car and hopped out. Michonne watched him walk around the hood to her side. He was almost too sexy. The chiseled jawline...those lips. His strut was confidant and sure; he looked as if he could conquer the world if he had the chance.

Rick opened the car door for her. “Thank you,” she took his hand, her long legs leading her out.

“You’re welcome.” One of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and he took his time walking the way to his boat.

“So, do you have one of those big boats over there?”

“Yeah. It’s not that big. Perfect size for entertaining and living on it if you want.” The closer she got to the boats, the larger they became in size. She loved how calm they looked bouncing on the little waves rushing to the shore. “Do you like to sail?”

“Um…” Michonne shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know if I like as much as I should. Lived in LA all my life and I’m not that fond of the water.”

Rick laughed, the tone of it smooth and sultry. “Well, maybe one day we can sail on my yacht. It rides like a dream on the water. Help you get used to the idea of being in the ocean.”

Did he think that this would be an ongoing thing? Was it even a thing now?

“I don’t know about all that. I’m shocked I’m here doing...this…” And a tiny thought crept in her mind. Should she? Should she be doing this?

He understood how she felt somehow and let her waist go, opting to hold her hand. “Sometimes...things happen that we control... but can’t control. We can’t help that.” His smile was charming, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight.

“I believe you probably could help it,” she flirted.

“Not right now.” He pointed directly ahead of them. “There She is...That’s Aphrodite’s Revenge.”

When they approached the yacht, Michonne had to make sure her mouth hadn’t popped open as she took in its luxury. She’d been on a yacht maybe three times and never on one as large as this.

Jason invited her to parties early on in their relationship and into their marriage. Each time she’d sit by herself and watch her husband mingle with people...be approached by young, beautiful, and the not so talented actresses who were dying for a part. After a year of observing and growing insecure and jealous, she opted to stop coming with him and only attend premieres.

The inside of the yacht rivaled the beauty of her own home. The living area was neatly kept and the kitchen was tiny, but functional. He gave her somewhat of a tour and asked her if she wanted anything to drink but she declined. Eventually, the tour ended at the master bedroom. The room she’d wanted to see the most honestly.

Rick sat down on the edge of his bed and watched Michonne awkwardly stand near the door. She held her clutch to her chest and leaned against the wall, glancing around the elegant room. Again, the room had smaller dimensions, but it still looked like a room from a million dollar home.

“It’s not too small, is it?” Rick interrupted her as she took it all in.

“No. Not really. Intimate I’d say.”

“Yeahhh. It’s a restful sleep in my opinion. Quiet. I kinda fell in love with the sea. Love the way it smells. Love the small rocking motion. Feels different sleeping on water than land.”

“I’m sure.” They both went silent again, and Michonne looked around. It was quaint. Tranquil even. At home there were so many rooms and when they first moved in she got lost. This felt different. Like a cozy getaway from the world.

“So when you come to town you sleep here?”

“Yeah. Drive my Camaro around town. Go to the beach a lot. It’s my routine between meetings and dealings. I love the air here. It’s hard to explain, but I travel a lot. The air feels and smells different everywhere.

“It’s the smog.” Michonne joked. They both laughed trailing off together. “How long are you in town for?”

“A few weeks. Heading to Toronto for some business.”

“Oh okay.” Silence struck the room again.

“You are an exceptional woman,” Rick said looking at her. All night he did that. Just take her breath away in the most delicate way. How he spoke to her...it was quick, but every word meant something. It was unexpected but welcomed.

She looked down and her locs fell forward with the motion. “Thank you,” she said.

“I mean that. I really do.” She looked up and ran her locs back from her face. He patted the section of bed beside him. “You wanna sit next to me? I’ll only bite a little. I promise.”

Michonne put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. “You are something else.” She looked around, hesitant in making the first step, but she did.

But instead of sitting right next to him, she opted to sit near the edge. Her nerves were on the edge. Was she uncomfortable? Yes. Did she want to leave?…

Rick slid over next to Michonne, and grabbed her hand. It trembled a little as he started his caress, using that same touch he used all night long. “You always wanted to be a surgeon?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and quickly caught his gaze. “Since I was in eighth grade.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Eighth grade? So you just knew right then and there that you were going to be a surgeon? To use these beautiful, soft, strong hands?”

She nervously giggled. “Yep. Saw a documentary about female doctors and I knew right then and there.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Oh, whatever.” Michonne knew he was just saying anything nice to woo her.

“Nahhhhh, I’m serious. It’s amazing that you had a dream and it came true. That it was to help.”

“Yeah, it did. And working with the children. It’s all for them.”

“Yeah. That’s a good thing Michonne.” He Just half her hand, his fingers sliding over hers, making her eyes close slightly. Her shoulders relaxed under the soothing touch.

Silence crept through the snug master bedroom far too often than she would like. Michonne blindly sat her clutch next to her and she felt warm lips against her shoulder. Rick lightly bit her skin there and Michonne faced him.

“I told you I’d bite light.” Damn his eyes. Those eyes just had the ability to make her want to risk it all. They were making her risk it all.

He kissed her in the same spot again and she chuckled and looked away, lust beginning to seep through her. She couldn’t look at him as he did what he did. Seduce her. Lure her to his lips in the most delicately insistent way. Michonne felt a finger on the bottom of her chin slightly turning her face back towards him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now cause...mmm...cause I been thinking about it all night. And that’s it. That’s all I’m doing for right now.” He smoothed a few of her locs behind her shoulder and kissed the side of her jaw. Then kissed another spot.

His hand cupped her cheek and she felt insanely warm, almost as if the inner pits of her soul were coming alive. As if she was a dormant volcano, ready to seep lava. The tip of his tongue licked her bottom lip, tasting her until his lips finally wanted to take over. He sucked on that same lip, pulling and biting it gently. “You have very kissable lips,”

A rasp laugh left her throat. “Do I now?”

His smile made her ache between her legs. It was a different smile she couldn’t quite describe. “Yeah....” He kissed her again, moving closer to Michonne. “Been wanting to taste them all night.”

He moved his lips away from her and stared at them. They had to be fuller now...plumper...the red matte she wore smudging into his now.

Michonne tried to make her body agree with her mind, she tried to kiss him, but she couldn’t get it together. She couldn’t focus. He bent forward and pecked her lips once. She didn’t move. Not one inch. Rick did it again, this time kissing her top lip, then her bottom and Michonne didn’t kiss him back, just held her head still as he tasted.

Soft lips over softer lips, moving slowly over another. His fingers somehow found her locs and tangled themselves between a few, pulling ever so gently on them. “You’re so sexy, Michonne.” He whiskered as he kissed her cheek. Michonne was glad he held her, because she wanted to dissolve away. His touch, another mans touch. His kisses. It was all too much.

“Stand up for me.” He asked pulling away from her with great restraint. She didn’t know why but she did what he wanted, shyly looking away as she stood. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so weak with him touching the way he did.

He sat up straight and the smallest of smiles touched his lips. “Take your dress off for me.”

“Okay,” she softly murmured, “...but I need help.” Michonne turned around and pointed to her zipper. She slowly turned around, her eyes glancing seductively over his shoulder. She felt it now. Felt the lust washing over every inch of her flesh.

He chuckled, low and short, and got off the bed, his fingers touching the center of her back. He took his time doing this, pulling the zipper down, his other hand tracing the exposed flesh as he moved down.

She turned around and he took a few steps back, welcoming the sight of her as she moved the straps of her dress down.

The thrill of him looking at her like that, like he’d seen an angel and couldn’t speak, it made her want to appreciate the feeling. She could see his lips part, felt the stare of his eyes...the heat from his body. She loved how he took her in, consuming her from just a gaze. Her hips moved from side to side as she inched the tight fabric over her them; over her round ass.

Rick could no longer sit back and watch her undress herself. He reached out, cautious about where to put his hands, but he wanted to feel her body. Where could he start? Where? Damn, he wanted to just....

The lace bra sat against her satin skin, the contrast stark and beautiful. He traced a line along her shoulder, continuing until it snagged on her bra strap. Rick let the strap go and circled her like she was prey. The tiniest of moans seeped between her lips along with a pent up breath she held when he moved back behind her, his hands at her waist.

She suddenly felt the lash of his tongue against her neck, along with his lips sucking her warm skin...licking her there. He moved locs that were in the way and spoke softly into her ear. “Tell me Michonne.” He nibbled at her earlobe and she fell back against his sturdy frame, her skin now so sensitive.

“Tell you what?” she shakily said, her hips grinding against him.

“Tell me what he won’t do for you? Tell me all the things you want me to do?”

He massaged her ass, squeezing and smacking it, pulling her against him. He still sucked on her neck and she closed her eyes once more, trembling so bad she grew dizzy. His breath rushed out harshly as he spoke to her, his lips pressed to her neck.

“Matter of fact...don’t tell me anything. I know I can figure out how to fuck you right.” She pressed harder against him and he pushed back, his dick brushing against her supple ass. “See...you letting me know right now.”

“Mmmmm,” she moaned, her ass grinding harder into him, while he felt her thighs.

“Your skin is warm.” He kissed her shoulder, “...you’re just so soft…”

His hands slipped around her waist from behind, hugging her against his hips. One hand skimmed upward, cupping her breast, his thumb circling slowly, searchingly over the thin fabric. When his other hand went downward she ached for him, spreading her legs wider until he found her sticky warmth, dipping his fingers deep inside of her.

“Damnnnnnnn,” he groaned against her. “Either he ain’t touched you in a while, or you thinking hard about what I’m about to do to this sweet pussy.”

She gasped at his comment; she gasped again as the fabric of her wet panties slid against his fingers; as two fingers rubbed over her pulsing clit.

“A damn fool,” he said mostly to himself. “Such a damn fool.” He said again and Michonne quivered from his touch. Controlling her hips became even harder the faster he moved his fingers over her, and she started to want more. She needed more.

She pulled at his hand, moving it away from her pussy, which made her body scream in agony. Kicking her heels off, she took the few steps to the bed and sat down, reaching behind her to undo her bra. Her breasts spilled out, the dark tips of her nipples now growing harder from the sudden cool air against them. Shy no more, her eyes found his as she lie back, her hands rubbing down her stomach until she found the top of her panties, pulling them down.

“Take off your clothes,” she rasped out, lust washing over her. She tossed her panties aside, and Rick didn’t hesitate to discard his own clothes and join her on the bed.

He got on his knees in front of her, rubbing his hand over his dick, the veins bulging after each stroke. She licked her lips, wanting to do other things to him, but wanting him inside of her more.

“You don’t have to make love to me, Rick. Just fuck me until I can’t walk.” Her voice was breathy, but confidant. She played with herself, her eyes barely opened, but she saw him look at her. Saw his want for her. .

“Mmmmm,” he said, amazed to hear her speak that way. He looked over her naked body, glistening with a sheen of sweat. The only thing she wore was the diamond necklace her husband bought her. She watched him move forward, stroking his dick one last time before he bent over her.

Michonne lifted her legs and spread them. She felt his dick slide against her sticky, slippery entrance, teasing her. The head of his dick pushed against her and she felt him enter, delving between her lips. She opened her mouth, breathing heavy, catching little bits of air as he went deeper...and deeper...and deeper.

“Jesus,” her tone deep and satisfied, she found his hair, twisting her fingers into the soft tendrils, pulling them hard.

It felt so good. This. Rick felt so good inside of her, filling her up in the best way possible. He kissed her near her ear, speaking between his groans.

“You feel...like everything...I ever wanted.” He breathed against her skin and her legs started to shake. He grabbed them, his fingers digging into her.

Here she was...here with another man. Letting him kiss her. Letting him touch her. Letting him fuck her. And she wanted every second of it.

And though she asked him not to make love, not to go slow, he did just that. His hips grind into her, slapping against her thighs, and he kissed her neck. He licked her and brushed his face against her skin. “...so beautiful...you’re just so beautiful…,” he told her, his lips kissing her shoulder now.

She only heard her pants. Her gasps. His heavy moans. They mixed with each other at certain times, and that’s when he’d go deeper...harder...deeper...faster...just so fast.

“When I saw you at the bar, I said to myself, ‘I gotta know her.” His pace quickened some and he kissed her. “Damn, I wanna fuck this pussy all night long.”

“Goddddd…” Michonne dug her fingers into his back and scratched desperate trails into his skin. She feared she dug into him too deep when he grunted, but he fucked her harder.

“Damn, Michonne.” He kissed her, soft pink lips crushing her plumper ones. Their tongues circled one another and they sucked. They kissed. They bit. They breathed for one another.

“You gonna let me fuck this pussy all night?”

Michonne couldn’t speak. What was she to say?

He spoke against her lips, kissing her between words. “You gonna let me fuck this soaking wet pussy? Feels so fucking good. Damn...you’re so beautiful.”

He asked over and over and she feared that if she said yes she’d be in trouble. She’d be in trouble because she hadn’t been fucked like this in some time.

“I hear them moans. I’m fucking this pussy right? It’s getting wetter and wetter. You trying to drown me in this wet..ass...pussy.”

He fucked her harder and Michonne couldn’t take it anymore. She started yell. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” His grin was cocky as he fucked her into madness.

“Say it, Michonne. Tell me I can have this pussy again.” He grasped her chin and kissed her, crushing her lips. “Say I can get this pussy all night?” He looked into her eyes and that’s when she let him know what her body already knew.

“Yesssss,” she screamed at least one more time as he pound into her, their skin rubbing against each other.

The room changed temperature, the heat circling around them as if they were caught in flames. “Just like that, Rick. Yes.”

“Right, there, baby?”

“Mmmmmm.” Michonne’s mind wouldn’t go anywhere else but where she was. She opened her eyes and she saw Rick, and focused on him; on the faces he made as he slid inside of her; on the way he’d flick his tongue over her lips...over her breasts.

And then he’d look at her like she was it. Like even if there were a room full of people and things, she’d be his only focus. He bent low and started to talk to her, his voice rasping in her ear. “So fucking good...Damn, baby.” He reached between them, his fingers massaging her clit. “Cum for me, Michonne. Let me see what that pretty face look like when you cum.”

His fingers moved faster and she clutched him tighter, the sensation of being fucked slower at the same time he massaged her began making her nerves tender. He just kept talking to her in that low voice, saying everything she wanted to hear. “So sexy. Sexiest woman I’ve ever met...Damn,” he’d say. “Look at you. Fucking beautiful.”

Her mouth parted, that sensation starting to drift to the surface. Rick fingers moved quicker and he started to smile. “Yeahhh, that’s what I want to see. I feel that pussy too, squeezing that dick…mmmmm...this good pussy…”

She dug her fingers into his back and and cried out a sound she’d never heard. Rick fingers worked her clit until she started to shake. Until her manicured nails scratched red marks into his back.

And that’s when he pumped faster into her, his mouth still near her ear. “You so wet, baby. Cum on that dick. Mmmm...I feel you, baby.”

She just screamed as loud as she could, hopeful that the boat kept the sound inside that room which spun around. This man kissed her neck and whispered little nothings to her. Things she had heard all night, “you’re so beautiful...so pretty...you feel so good.”

And that didn’t stop her from wanting to hear it now. Right when her body trembled from the release of pent up desire from needs not being met. Not when she couldn’t let go of him cause she knew she’d burn into ashes if she did. Not when he groaned in her ear as she tried to find air to breathe.

And she felt him stiffen as he fucked her; felt him catch himself and pull-out, the warmth of his cum spilling over her engorged pussy lips, rubbing just the tip of his dick on the outermost part. His face buried into her neck and he shook against her.

She didn’t know when, but he moved lower, resting his cheek against her chest, the stubble poking her. He grabbed her hand and rubbed her fingers frantically, as he caressed her like he’d done all night. It made her want to weep at how soft he was with her. That the touch he gave her all night was starting to become familiar.

She knew that life outside this boat continued to go on, but that didn’t change the fact the her life stalled in ecstasy for a brief moment in time. Her heart beat out of her chest. Everything was different. All of it. Everything.

And it was because of him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He kissed her softly after the last time they fucked, his hands dragging through her locs. “You got to get home, don’t you?”

“That would probably be best.”

“Can’t spend the night with me? I mean, it’s late or early either way you look at it and…” He moved between her legs and Michonne couldn’t believe he wanted to again.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed her once more and she spoke as he did. “But I have to go,” Michonne dreaded saying.

“You do,” he finally agreed, though his tone held that same doubt it did earlier at the restaurant. He sat up. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Can’t have you going home looking like you just had the best night of your life.”

“You are a cocky son of a bitch,” she whispered.

“But am I wrong?” He was still naked and his dick started to stiffen again.

Michonne rolled her eyes. Even if he was right, she’d never admit it.

Never.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They held hands on the ride back into town. On the way they stopped the car and kissed like teenagers, nearly fucking on the side of the road.

“I got to have you again.”

Michonne didn’t want to say it, but it had to be said. “This can’t be a normal thing. It was just for tonight.”

“You saying words to me, but you feel…” He stuck his hand between her legs, feeling her wetness. “You feel like you need to be fucked by me again.”

“Rick. Don’t say shit like that to me.” It was nearly three in the morning.

“Damn. I’m just…” He moved his hand away and her body reacted, needing it to be back where it once was. “I’m doing too much, ain’t I?”

If Michonne’s body could talk, she’d be screaming at her right now. They looked at each other from opposite ends of the car. Rick nod his head, realizing that this would probably have to be a one time thing. He faced forward and put his hand last on the steering wheel.

“I want nothing more than to do what we did for the last three hours, but...I…”

He shook his head and then blew out a breath. “Let’s get you home.” He shakily started the car and nod again.

“I mean it. I enjoyed this night with you.” Why did she want to weep? She barely knew this man.

He grabbed for her hand again and she gave it to him. Rick put it to his lips and kissed her. “I enjoyed it too, darling.” She smiled and looked away from him.

It was all she could do.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michonne walked into her house and dropped her clutch on the table near the door. Her heels clacked against the shiny marble floor and she looked around. She beat her husband home at least. His car wasn’t in the garage, she noticed when she went to check.

She walked into the kitchen and heard the chime at the front door alerting you of an entry. Her husband walked into the kitchen moments later, pausing when he saw her drinking some water.

“You’re up...and still dressed.” He seemed surprised to see her standing there.

“I...uh...stayed at the bar and took a few shots. Got home and passed out,” she told him as if it were fact. He looked skeptical, but didn’t question it. Even if her hair was less kept and her makeup seemed unusually smudged. He’d seen Michonne get drunker than a sailor and still be able to get herself undressed...take her makeup off at least.

“Well, I’m going to get some rest. You coming to bed soon?” He walked over to her and kissed her cheek. Michonne forced a smile.

“Yep. Be right there.” Jason walked off...an odd look on his face. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

Michonne walked towards him and then past him, grabbing her clutch from the front table. The staircase was just there and she walked up them,

leaving him looking at her.

“Goodnight, Jason.” Michonne said, just as she left his sight. .

She didn’t wait for a response.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jason left early in the day and Michonne sat on the sofa daydreaming...of Rick. Little flashes of his face appeared before her and it would cause her to think about last night...about all of it. Everything.

To the point where a voice inside her begged for her to get off the couch and walk upstairs to the master bedroom. To go to her closet and get her red clutch that had Ricks business card.

Her fingers slid against the raised writing on a red and white card. Michonne grabbed her phone, dialing the number and nervously waited for him to answer.

To her surprise, he answered on the second ring. “Hello.” His sultry southern tone made her clit thump.

“Hi, Rick. This is Michonne.”

“Michonne. How are you doing?”

“I’m...doing pretty good.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear your voice.”

She leaned against the door frame and her smile widened. “I will say it’s good to hear your voice too.”

“Glad to hear that, as well. Would it be too forward of me to say that you’ve been on my mind since we parted.”

She grew warm and shook her head. “Nah. That wouldn’t be too forward.”

“It wouldn’t, huh?”

“Nope. Cause I will admit I’ve been thinking about you.” She shyly smiled even though he couldn’t see it.

“It seems to me, that we might need to do something about that.” They both went quiet and he spoke. “Come see me again. I’m free after two.”

“Rickkk…”

“We could take the boat on the water. Just hang out and drink wine, eat an early dinner.”

“And then what.” Her voice told him she wished for more to happen.

“And then fix that issue we both have. Maybe if we got a few more times in we could get it out our system.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” she laughed.

“Well...we’ll figure something out.”

“Okay…”

“So, I’ll see you later, then…?”

Michonne paused and made up her mind. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

“Good. I’ll see you later, Michonne.”

“Okay, Rick.” She hung up and put her phone on the nightstand.

She didn’t know what was happening, and she knew all st the same time. Was it just revenge for the past few years? Was it comfort? Was it attraction and lust? Michonne had no clue, but it was something.

It was something.

Written by: @nyese3529

-We’re The Ones Who Write

#richonne #richonne fanfiction #lyrical prompt #nyese3529 #weretheoneswhowrite

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