#been pretty busy yesterday and today so no thoughts head empty

[steddieas-shegoes]

i could listen all night

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to hear every detail of their day'

rated t | 803 words | cw: recreational drug use (weed) | tags: established relationship, stargazing, they're so in love

💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

"And it's not even that I'm worried about failing the test!" Steve said as he leaned back against the wall of their too-small balcony. "I did a practice test yesterday and only missed one question. I just feel like it's too easy."

"I think you're just smarter than you give yourself credit for, Stevie," Eddie said as he exhaled smoke.

"I don't think that's it."

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly.

They didn't love their apartment. It was on the third floor of a three story townhome that seemed to be a revolving door of large families who couldn't make rent after a couple of months. They'd get close to someone on the first floor and they'd be evicted two months later. They'd finally have a quiet neighbor below them only to find out it was an old man who was moved to a nursing home a month after moving in.

But they at least had this balcony that faced a parking lot of some business that was empty and closed by the time they needed to smoke.

And when Steve graduated, they could move closer to whatever school he ended up working at.

"What if I don't graduate?" Steve asked quietly, reaching out for the joint Eddie had just taken a third pull off of. "What if I'm doing all this for nothing?"

Eddie turned to Steve as much as he could, covered his hand in comfort. "If anyone knows what it's like not to graduate, it's me. And it's not the end of the world. It may feel like it at first, but just because you don't do it when you think you should doesn't mean you won't ever. You're smart and you work hard, sunshine, you're gonna graduate."

"You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."

"I don't have to say anything! I told you just this morning that you were stupid if you thought I wasn't gonna wake up just to kiss you goodbye," Eddie pecked his cheek and took the join back from him.

He knew Steve got emotional if he smoked too much, and he'd already reached the glassy eye part of the high. Better to stop him now.

"Other than your professor scaring you, what happened today?" Eddie asked casually. He wanted to hear about everything, and Steve liked talking about it.

"I had the best cup of tea. The library was giving free cups to students who donated $1 to the writer's club. So I guess it wasn't really free, but still, $1 for the best cup of tea I've ever had isn't bad." Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "I studied for an hour between classes and saw these two women making out. One was like, a lot older than the other and I'm almost certain she was a professor with a student. Don't know what that's about."

Eddie raised his brows, but stayed quiet as Steve continued.

"And then I managed to eat my sandwich after my second class. Best one you've made yet. Perfect ham to turkey ratio," Steve kissed his neck.

"Glad you liked it, sweetheart."

"Oh! And there's gonna be a student run show next Friday. I get two free tickets if you wanna go. Maybe we could make it a date night?"

"I think that sounds lovely. Write it on the fridge and I'll make sure I'm home in time to get ready for it," Eddie took one last drag from the joint before putting it out in the ash tray he grabbed from the flea market downtown when they first moved in. "Anything else today?"

"I got to sit outside and look at the stars with my boyfriend. That's been pretty nice," Steve whispered.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up, never quite used to how easily Steve shared his love and affection. He'd been like that before they were even together, overwhelmingly honest.

"Was he good company?" Eddie teased, leaning his head on top of Steve's and looking up at the few stars they could see in the city.

"He's always good company."

Eddie kissed the top of Steve's head and settled back.

"What about your day?" Steve asked, sinking further into his side.

"My day was boring." Eddie sighed. "But we have new releases hitting the shelves tomorrow. Those days are always fun."

"Any you want?" Steve sounded tired.

It was barely eight at night, but the weed was hitting and he'd been up since five that morning going nonstop.

"Might grab this local band's demo. We're the only place carrying it and they're hoping to do a show in our basement next month, but we'll see. Brad said we had to see how the demos sell."

"Sounds like fun," Steve said.

"You wanna go inside, sweetheart?"

"Not yet. Keep talking. Wanna hear about everything."

"Mkay, baby."

[gunnrblze]

A lil Kick fic one shot :) tag: @blacktacmopsi MDNI

Kick, who is completely exhausted by the end of the work day—having spent all of it at various desktops and electronics—figured he’d slump into his bed and fall fast asleep as soon as he had the chance.

The latter didn’t quite happen yet, though. He lied awake, staring at the ceiling of the small room on base he was in, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Least im not sharing a damn bunk with Keegan again…he thought to himself, appreciating this rare privacy the team would get on other bases.

His mind wandered. The op, his work, did he turn off the light in that stuffy office? He figured eventually his overtired brain would give up and let him get some shut eye, but the more he focused on it, the further the possibility became.

He let his thoughts drift to whenever they wanted to go now. The crappy food that made his stomach ache earlier, who the hell serves food that out of date, even to soldiers? The poor mood Merrick had been in all day, old man needs to get laid or something…

And then you.

How hard you’d worked today, the way you seemed to not even notice anyone else unless you needed to, for the job. You were so busy, so capable and intelligent, perfect for the job, he’d thought.

His mind lingered there for a bit. The way your hair framed your face, the snarky expression you had when something really pissed you off, the way your uniform fit so snug around your thighs-

He tried to end that train of thought. You’re a colleague, after all, you hardly know him. He’s no stranger to a workplace crush, been there and unfortunately done that, but this wasn’t even a crush. You were just…there, with everyone else.

His brain was overactive now though, apparently the long days work wasn’t enough to make him anything more than mild to moderately sleepy. So he entertained it, just a little. Thought all about the way your ass looked when you bent over yesterday, how you bit your lip whenever you had to really concentrate.

Kick thought about that little gasp you made when you closed your finger up in a truck door last week, if he could ever make you gasp like that, in less painful circumstances.

He knew it wasn’t that wrong to think about you in such a way, it was just his imagination, right? This isn’t 1984, thought crimes don’t exist…he told himself. But still, he figured he should respect your dignity, yeah? You’d never know that he was wondering how soft your tits must be, or the way your face might twist up with pleasure if he were to sit you on his own…but it’d be kinda wrong, no?

The man closed his amber eyes as hard as he could, scrubbing his hands over his face with a tired sigh in an attempt to rid his brain of his thoughts, empty it out like an etch a sketch.

Only problem was, the half-hard issue he had in his pants now. He groaned a little out of annoyance, figuring he certainly had the privacy to slip a hand down into his boxers, but he couldn’t jerk off to what had caused the issue in the first place.

You.

Having imagined the way you’d look naked was one thing—what those pretty hips and legs would look like around his waist—but to touch himself to the thought of you? Of course he couldn’t do that, would he even be able to look at you proper the next day?

He sufficed for imagining some silly hentai video he’d watched recently, the seldom moments he had alone, he liked to capitalize on. His hand slid down the lower half of his stomach and cupped over the bulge in his pants. Kick let out a small sigh, shifting a bit more comfortably as he lied on his back in the rickety little bed.

His poor mind kept wandering as he gave himself a few squeezes, stiffening his cock up fully before slipping a hand into his pants, his length straining against his boxers now. He shook his head, attempting once more to rid it of your image. Trying to replace it with some big breasted anime woman, who was just some animated thing, really…nothing could ever beat having a real woman like you-

“For fucks sake…” he whispered out loud this time, huffing as he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft. The silence of the room felt loud while he slowly stroked himself, forcing his mind to focus on literally anything else to get his rocks off on now. Anything but your pretty eyes or how fucking smart you are, damnit.

It worked for a while, too. He undid the button to his pants and slid them down his hips a bit, working his cock up out of the now slightly stained boxers. His tip was red and nearly aching with how desperate he’d gotten. Desperate to rub one out and be done with it so he could get some sleep. But the more he had to direct his mind back to whatever porno he could think of rather than what was organically popping up, the more he ended up chasing his orgasm.

It was nearing pathetic, really. His hips jerked up as he fisted his slick cock over and over and over, his back arching off the bed slightly while panting as quietly as he could, a quiet whine forced from his throat.

He didn’t want that guilt on his conscious, though. Jerking off to the thought of you? He was better than that, he’d already decided. But the more his mind lingered, the more he lost focus.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if he just indulged himself a little bit, yeah? It’ll only be for a moment…at this rate he could cum within a second, if he’d only let himself.

He tried, he really did. The thought of your lips on his neck and his fist being replaced by your cunt was hard to stave off, though. He shut a hand over his mouth, forcing down the whimper that bubbled up whenever his hand passed over his leaking head.

He felt a little guilty, but he couldn’t help himself. “They’ll never know…nobody will know…” he muttered roughly under his breath, the sound of his slick cock long having filled the room. Too late to think about the potential consequences of having the Walker boys on the other side of the wall, no doubt listening to this miserable display.

Kick couldn’t take much more of it. Breathing unevenly with his dick throbbing and pulsing in a balmy hand, he decided to let himself go, deal with any remaining guilt after the fact.

All it took was the thought of your eyes on him, calling out his name the same way you had earlier today, that had the poor operator covering his stomach in cum, groaning into his hand like some desperate whore.

———————

He was glad the next morning, to say the least, that you’d probably be out of his sights today. He’d be holed up in his office again, unlikely to be doing much more.

He could handle that, yeah? Seeing you would be the problem, having to face you after what he’d secretly done.

He walked out of his quarters, bags under his eyes, when he heard the door next to him opening. Shit, hope those two didn’t hear me…he prayed Hesh and Logan had been asleep already last night.

He must’ve been mistaken about who was bunked in the room parallel to him, though, when he saw you walk out, smirk only as concealed as you could manage…

Fuck.

[buckychristwrites]

Could This Be | Chap. Four | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about..

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy :)

���Hi babe!”

You looked up from your laptop to find Keeley walking towards you, coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she sported a leather jacket over a white crop top and black pants. The heels she wore were loud against the cement flooring. Sliding the e-pen back into its slot in the computer, you smiled at her.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” She said as she sat down with a relieved sigh, taking a quick bite of her donut. “Went to your usual spot and it was empty.”

“Yeah, I have some charting to do and it was getting stuffy inside,” You explained. She looked over your shoulder in an effort to read your typing. If there was one person in the world who was intrigued by your job, it was always Keeley Jones.

“Anything good?” You shrugged. 

“Isaac twisted his knee pretty good during practice, he needed some ice and a pain killer. Pretty standard,” You told her, a smile sneaking on your face. “Not as good as Will bloodying his nose with a shoe yesterday.” She let out a loud laugh before immediately covering her mouth.

“You must have the most interesting job here,” She said, shaking her head as she took another sip of her coffee. “Just gettin’ to see the boys do the dumbest shit all day.” You hummed in response.

“It’s more fun when it's not a match,” You admitted to her. “When it’s a match, there’s more pressure to get them back up and on the field. Like that one against Man City when Jamie was hurt. And Ted was snapping at us to get him fixed so they didn’t have to sub him out. It’s just stressful sometimes.” She nodded in understanding, turning her head to watch as the players practised. 

“Speaking of Jamie,” She said innocently, and you could hear the smile in her voice even though neither of you were looking at each other. “Are you busy tonight?” You thought for a second, humming out loud as you did so. 

“I don’t think so,” You told her, although you began to regret your honesty. “Why?” She turned towards you again, the excitement filling her face.

“Jamie and you should join Roy and I for dinner tonight!” She exclaimed happily. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to go on a double date with you. Too long, really. Please say yes.” She put on her best pouty face, as if to say she already knew you wanted to say no. Which, as life would have it, you did, indeed want to say no. Anxiety rippled through you, but you knew that you couldn’t get out of it.

“Of course!” You told her, feigning enthusiasm as best as you could. “We’d love to! I’ll let Jamie know after practice, I’m sure he’ll be just as excited.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to that,” Jamie said exasperatedly when you told him in the boot room a few hours later. He was fresh out of the showers, in his normal clothing. His hair was still slightly damp. You crossed your arms over your chest with your own look of exasperation. 

“Have you fucking met Keeley? You know how impossible it is to say no to her,” You hissed. “Besides, if we said no today, she would’ve just kept asking until we agreed.” Jamie nodded, demeanour changing.

“I know, I know.” He began to pace around the room as you watched from your seat on the bench.

“We just have to get things in order before tonight,” You told him, putting your hands out with your palms down. “Get our story straight. They’re going to ask us a lot of questions, and we need to be ready with answers.” He paused, turning to face you with his finger pointed towards the ceiling.

“Roy is definitely onto us,” He told you, scratching the back of his head. 

“Roy would be onto us even if this wasn’t fake,” You said, shaking your head. In your mind, you were imagining sitting across from Roy, hand in hand with Jamie and trying to explain how all of this came to be. In this daydream, his face was the most annoyed you’ve ever seen it. It was definitely an amusing thought. “I’m not as concerned with him as I am about Keeley.” 

Van Damme, Dani and Richard peaked in through the window, looking between you and Jamie. You waved to them before shooing them away. They smiled like children who had just gotten caught sneaking candy before running off. 

“Alright, so how did we meet?” Jamie asked you, not having noticed the insolence of his teammates. The shock hit you immediately, your mouth falling open in frustration.

“Jamie, once again, we fucking work together. You met me here!” He groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck. Sorry.” You shook your head, incensed. 

“If you forget that we work together one more time, I’m punching you.” The look on your face was stern. Serious. “And I’ll make sure to make it as hard as I can.” Jamie stared at you, mouth agape and eyes scandalised.

“Oi! That’s not very nice!”

“It’s not very nice that you literally forget that we work together, is it?” 

He took a moment to consider this, before saying, “We just didn’t talk much before... “ He spun his finger in the air, drawing a circle. “All this. But you’ve always just been… around. I feel like I’ve always known ya.” You scratched your head furiously.

“And yet, I never forgot I worked with you.”

“Your job is all about takin’ care of us!” He exclaimed, the frustration in him growing as well. “Mine is to get the ball in the net. I come into your care once every few weeks, and that’s in a bad month. Cut me some slack, yeah?”

He had a point. More often, you were seeing Jamie in social settings than work settings. When you did see him for an injury, it was usually severe, and he was more focused on not thinking about the pain, or whatever the coaches were saying to him, than he was on who was giving him care. And he was right in the fact that your entire job, besides supplying and helping out the physiotherapists, was to care for the team. 

It also had to do with the fact that there was a certain period of time when you weren’t yourself when at work. A presence at the stadium forced you to keep your distance from the players. And even now, the ghost of them still haunts you.

“The slack I’m cutting you is that I’m not hitting you right now,” You told him, not wanting to admit that you saw his point. Not that you ever would hit him, but did he know that? No. And it was going to stay that way.

He opened his mouth to argue, but you waved your hands. “We’re getting off topic here. We need to focus.” His expression changed from argumentative to neutral. 

“Alright,” He agreed, taking a seat on the bench next to you. “So we met here. Then what?”

You brought your hand to your chin, tapping your index finger against your face as you thought through several scenarios.

“We can’t say it’s because you’ve been spending more time injured, because you haven’t,” You said, thinking out loud. “We also can’t say that someone set us up, because then Keeley would have an absolute fit.” It felt like it should’ve been easier to come up with a story than it was. While the wheels in your mind kept turning, Jamie’s did the same, but for completely different reasons.

“D’ya know why Keeley never tried to set us up?” You looked at him in time to see him gesturing between you and him. “Me and you?”

“Yes, I told her no footballers,” You said simply before looking away from him. This appeared to surprise him.

“Why not?”

“Jamie, please.” It was so hard to not get frustrated. Not only because he had the attention span of a 3 day old peanut butter sandwich, but also because he was venturing into territory that you really didn’t want to get into. “We only have an hour to get this sorted out.”

“I feel like hidin’ things from me will only make this harder,” He said. “What happened to our rule? Being honest with each other?”

“I’m not… not being honest with you, Jamie,” You said, defensively. “There’s just some things I don’t feel the need to explain to you. At least, not right at this moment.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor with his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Keepin’ things from a friend,” He said, feigning disappointment. “How can I fake love ya if I know you’re hidin’ things from me?” A hint of a smile appeared on his cheeks. Shaking your head, you tried and failed to fight back your own.

Why are you smiling right now? You asked yourself. Why is this working?

“Fine,” You said, folding your hands in your lap. He looked up in surprise, turning his body so he could give you his full attention. It took you a second to mentally ready yourself to say what you were about to say. A sigh forced its way out of your chest. 

“A few years ago, I want to say around the time you went back to Man City, I started dating a… pretty famous footballer.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Jamie opening his mouth to speak. “No, I won’t tell you who it is.” Jamie closed his mouth once more. “He was incredible at first. Whole lot of compliments, gifts, extravagant dates, expensive trips. He tried to buy me a car, but I turned it down.” You shook your head. “I was living in a dream… until one day I seemed to just… wake up.” It wasn’t immediately obvious to you that you were smiling until it faded away. 

“I can’t say exactly why things changed, but by the time you returned to Richmond, everything for me was different. So different.” Just the memory of it was sending chills up your spine. “There was really no good time that didn’t leave me in complete fear of going home. If he won a game? I was worthless and he was king of the world. If he lost?” You trailed off, letting the words hang above your head for a moment, as the meaning sunk in for Jamie. “There came a point where I wasn’t allowed to talk to any of the players anymore. We had kept our relationship pretty much under wraps from the start, so I really couldn’t tell anyone anyway. Maybe he did that on purpose. But my friendships with most of the players dissolved. Roy ended up finding out because he caught me changing some wrappings on my arm. He told Keeley. They’re the only two who know. Besides you, now.” You zoned out for a second, suddenly feeling out of body, before snapping back and turning to Jamie. “Eventually, the opportunity arose for me to leave. So I did.” You nodded. “Then when Keeley started approaching the subject of dating again, I told her no footballers whatsoever.” 

Jamie said nothing, instead just staring at you for a long time. You stared at the floor, waiting for him to give any sort of response. This was the worst part of telling someone, the reaction. But why did his feel like it held so much weight?

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” He finally said. His gaze fell to the grey floor. “You deserve so much better than that.” 

“I like to think so,” You said quietly, trying to bring humour to the bleak conversation. He shifted so he was facing you.

“How did he know if you were talkin’ to the other players?” He asked, making you look up again. “Like, how was he able to keep an eye on that if he wasn’t here?”

You froze. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before Jamie began again, “Unless-”

“Okay, we have to go,” You said, looking at your watch as you swiftly stood off the bench. He jumped at your sudden urgency, clearly wanting to slow you down, but you didn’t allow for it. “I have to get home and get ready. Meet you at the restaurant?” The whiplash seemed to confuse him, as he looked around before looking back at you.

“Uh… Actually, wouldn’t it make more sense if I picked ya up? And we arrived together?”

Fuck. He was just filled with good points today.

“I guess that makes sense,” You said, pulling anxiously on your sleeves, before grabbing for your phone. “Let me text you my address.” 

“Do you need my number for that?” He asked, unclear if he was joking or not, just as you sent the address to his phone. Rolling your eyes, you walked out of the room, deciding not to give him any further response. 

It wasn’t until you were pulling your vehicle out of the car park that you realised that you and Jamie still hadn’t decided on a proper cover story. You cursed the whole drive home.

Getting home and getting ready turned into being more of an event than you had wanted. What were you supposed to wear on a real double date with your fake boyfriend? Apparently, according to you, there was nothing in your closet that screamed Yes I Am Dating And In Love With This Man. In the end, you settled for a simple dress. It took you longer to do your makeup than you had planned, and when you looked at the time, you practically flew out the door. 

Greeting you was Jamie, in a simple white singlet with a tan blazer and black trousers. His hair was slicked back just perfectly. It was the first time, you realised, you had seen him all dressed up. Behind him was a fancy black car that you couldn’t afford to know the name of.

“Look at you! Dressed all smart,” You exclaimed, smiling at him as you walked down the path towards the road. It took you a moment too long to notice the bundle of roses he held in his hands. As you approached him, he held them out to you. “Y- Jamie, you didn’t-”

“Of course I had to,” He said, leaning in with a goofy smile. “It’s our first fake date, innit?” 

Your stomach did a somersault as you took them from him. Before you allowed yourself to overthink it, you kissed his cheek. 

“You look lovely, by the way,” He added, looking you up and down. Being under his gaze made the heat in your cheeks rise up, and you turned away before he had time to notice.

“I’m gonna put these inside in some water, and then we can go, okay?” 

It was until you got to the door that you noticed he was following you inside, like an excited little puppy, but you didn’t comment. As you wandered into the kitchen for a vase, he looked around the sitting room.

“Nice little place you got here,” Jamie called to you just as you pulled a simple, plain vase from the cupboard. 

“Oh, thank you!”

As you set the flowers in the water, you thought about how weird it was that of all people, Jamie Tartt was in your house, wandering around your sitting room. As you exited the kitchen, you found him admiring the photos framed on the mantle. You noticed as you set the roses on your coffee table that he was stuck staring at one picture. He turned to you, pointing at the frame.

“When was this from?”

Somehow, you already knew what picture he was referring to. When you approached, putting your hands on your hips as the both of you stared at the photo.

“That’s from the last Man City match,” You told him, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the photo. “It was in the papers, so I clipped it out.”

It was of you and him, Jamie laying in the grass with his legs spread out as you wrapped his injured foot. The both of you were laughing over something, either over something you had said to calm the mood or some self deprecating joke from him. If the photo had been cropped differently, one wouldn’t have even known that he was injured. It just would’ve been two friends, having a laugh. 

Jamie slowly reached up and grabbed the frame, bringing it down so he could look at it properly.

“I remember this,” He said quietly. “Coach Lasso had just walked off, after asking you to get me fixed up, and you looked at me and said,” He cleared his throat before continuing, “‘Does he think I’m the fuckin’ Fairy Godmother? Just wave me wand and you won't have a sprained foot?’”

You laughed, partly at how he tried to impersonate your voice with his thick accent, but also at the fact that now you did remember that moment. When you looked over at Jamie, you found he was already looking at you. 

“I remember how shit I felt over my dad, and being back at Man City, and you made me feel a lil better.” 

Whatever was bubbling in your belly was overwhelming you. You playfully bumped your hip against his.

“You finally remember working with me, yeah?”

He let out a loud laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.

“Piss off,” He said, setting the photo carefully back onto the mantle. “Are you ready to go or are we just goin’ to stand here so you can bully me all night?” You scrunched up your face in thought. 

“Bullying you is quite fun…”

Shaking his head, he turned and went straight towards your front door. He threw it open before turning and facing you. 

“You comin’ or what?” 

You skipped after him, surprisingly excited now for the coming night.

“Coming!”

~

TAGS

@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgall, @hotdoglamp, @loveslidee, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartzz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143, @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick, @jamieroyjamieroy, @meisterdani, @hanybunch, @batsy-bats1

[xmads-omensx]

Once Upon A Dream

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,781

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, wearing, kissing, mentions of a slight fear of rollercoasters and mild anxiety

Summary: Noah takes Y/N to Disney for their anniversary... except they can't quite get rid of the rest of the guys

Thanks @tosoundlessdarkistare for the idea <3

I have also never been to Disney Land before so please be aware that there will be inaccuracies.

I had always wanted to go to Disney, ever since I was a kid, but I had never had the chance to go. It was always too expensive when I was younger, and by the time we could afford it, I had pretty much outgrown it.

Part of me still wanted to go, but with balancing work and spending time with Noah when he wasn’t on tour, it was hard to find the time to visit with enough time to do everything that I wanted to do.

This wasn’t something I had told Noah outright. It wasn’t exactly something I openly told people. The circle of people I surrounded myself with were, much like Noah, intimidating metalheads covered in tattoos who would have absolutely no business being in Disneyland. The mental image made me laugh.

One day, I had some time between meetings. I was working from home that day, so I didn’t really have anything to do in this particular thirty minute gap, so I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have a glance at prices for a hypothetical trip to Disneyland. My very surface-level research confirmed the astronomical prices for tickets, and did not factor in accommodation, snacks, souvenirs or a second person to join me on the trip.

I promptly gave up on my side-quest and went back to my meeting, feeling ever so slightly defeated at my lack of accomplishment.

The rest of the day felt heavier. It wasn’t like I desperately wanted to do, but more so something the small child within me yearned for. Plenty of kids my age, friends included all got to experience the joys of Disney, but I never quite reached that.

Crawling into bed after dinner felt nice. Especially with Noah wrapped around me.

“How was your day?” He asked softly.

“Not bad. Work was a bit boring, as usual.” I laughed into his chest, making him laugh as well.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around much today. We were making real progress in the studio.” He said softly, a twinge of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re making progress, honey.” I replied, snuggling further into his chest.

“Me too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I drifted off to sleep easily. I always did with Noah there.

The next day I woke up to an empty bed. I didn’t like waking up alone. I looked around the room but couldn’t see Noah anywhere. The bathroom was empty and it was only 9:45am, so he shouldn’t be at the studio just yet.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and left our shared bedroom. My office was down the hall and the light was on. Weird. I was sure I had turned it off when you finished work yesterday.

Walking closer to the slightly ajar door, I started to hear voices coming from inside. Noah? Matt? Jolly? Why were they in my office?

I lightly pushed the door open and they hurriedly stopped their conversation. Noah had a look that was equally suspicious as it was guilty.

“What are you guys doing in here?” I asked sleepily, rubbing my eye.

“Nothing really, just chilling.” Noah said, trying to act calm but ultimately failing.

“In my office?” I asked sceptically.

The guys looked between eachother as I just stared at them. From an outside perspective, it must have looked like a mildly disappointed mother scolding her three sons.

“You better take this one man, it was your idea.” Matt said, clapping Noah on his back, making Jolly laugh.

Noah sighed before speaking. “So, you know how our anniversary is coming up soon?”

“Yeah.” I said, a small smile appearing on my face, as it did every time someone mentioned our anniversary

“I thought maybe we could go on a little trip, instead of just going on a nice date or something.” He said quietly, with a small smile on his face.

“A trip where?” I asked, excited.

“That’s a surprise.” Noah replied.

“Disney Land!” Matt and Jolly exclaimed at the same time Noah was speaking.

“Are you both fucking kidding me!” Noah shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Matt and Jolly laughed at his outburst, hurriedly escaping the room to avoid Noah’s anger as well as the pillow he had picked up to throw at them.

I just watched, laughing at them.

“I’m sorry baby, it was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled, looking down at the ground in defeat.

“Hey.” He looked up at me when I began to speak. “It’s okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled softly and pulled me into his lap, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Good morning beautiful.” He said softly.

“Morning handsome.” I giggled.

We stayed like that for another few moments before deciding to go and get ready for the day.

The rest of the week rolled around quickly as Noah and I’s anniversary approached. We had packed for three days at Disney Land and were eagerly awaiting our trip to roll around.

After what felt like eternity, the time had arrived for us to begin our journey to Disney Land. Luckily, we didn’t live too far away, so we could drive there and back relatively easily, but we still booked a hotel to make out lives easier.

Moving our bags by the front door, Noah began loading up his car. Since it was our anniversary, he wasn’t letting me help him with anything, which frustrated me, but seeing as he was significantly taller than me and could lift me up like it was nothing, there wasn’t much point trying to help him.

“Noah come on. Let me help.” I had argued.

“Nope.” He simply replied.

“Noah ju-“ I started before he interrupted me.

“I said nope.” He looked at me with a jokingly stern expression.

I had sighed, giving up.

Once the car had been packed, Noah clapped his hands together, proud of himself, and we began to make our way to his car.

Before we could even open the door, a small commotion from inside the house made us pause, before what can only be described as a gaggle of arguing men poured out the front door carrying bags with them.

Nick, Folio, Jolly, Matt, Bryan and Steven now all stood on our driveway looking mildly sheepish.

“Where are you guys going?” Noah asked with a suspicious tone, nervously eyeing the bags they each carried along with them.

“So, we may or may not have booked tickets to go with you guys to Disney Land.” Folio said sheepishly.

“Out anniversary trip to Disney Land?” Noah asked, still eyeing them all suspiciously.

The rest of the guys had a guilty look on their faces. “We’ll stay out of your way, we just liked the idea.” Nick added, trying to lessen their guilt.

“You fucking better.” Noah huffed before getting into the drivers seat of his car.

“See you guys later I guess.” I laughed before climbing in the passenger seat.

Noah sighed before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He remained quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, which was unlike him. He usually asked for a specific playlist, or talked about our plans for the day.

“Are you okay babe?” I asked, placing my hand on his knee and squeezing it affectionately.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed. “I just wanted to take you somewhere special for a break away from the others. You know? Just us.”

“And whilst that is a very nice idea babe, we both know that neither of us will ever escape those guys.” I laughed.

“Yeah you’re right.” Noah sighed, a weak smile appearing on his face.

“I have a nasty habit of doing that.” I smirked at him.

“shut up. Put some music on babe, you’re choice.” Noah laughed.

“Okay.” I giggled, queuing up my musical theatre playlist, which I knew Noah secretly liked, despite stating that he hated it several times.

The entire drive there I performed every single song, which was probably why Noah constantly protested the playlist every time. I more or less made a mockery of his job.

Once we arrived at the hotel, we unloaded Noah’s car and brought our things up to the hotel room, which wasn’t fancy in the slightest, but did the job for four nights. The guys had booked rooms in the same hotel, but luckily not on the same floor as Noah and I, so we still got some peace and quiet away from them.

Dinner time rolled around and Noah took me out for a very nice, quiet, romantic meal for our anniversary, as had become tradition between the two of us over the last few years.

The morning sunshine lit up our hotel room and aroused me from my sleep, Noah still lay beside me snoring contently away. As much as I hated to wake him, I knew that we probably had to leave soon to avoid the rush at the entrance. I gently brushed the stray hairs off of his face, before placing gentle kisses all over his cheeks, making him stir and his eyes flutter open.

A soft smile appeared on his face. “Hey beautiful.” He groaned.

“Hi baby.” I replied, kissing his forehead.

He wrapped his long, strong arms around my waist, trying to pull me back into bed, but I resisted. “Noah, baby, as much as I would love to hide in bed all day with you, we need to beat the rush and the rest of the guys.”

Noah groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

“This was your idea honey.” I laughed, shaking his shoulder gently, making him roll over and face me again.

“I know.” He sighed before climbing out of bed and dragging me into the bathroom behind him.

After we were showered, dressed and I had done my hair and makeup, it was time to go. We planned on grabbing some breakfast at the park as well as lunch, and just seeing how we felt for dinner.

The drive over there was short and we got parked relatively easily, despite our parking being far to the back of the car park.

We collected our wristbands and entered the park. Neither Noah or myself especially liked rollercoasters, but we were both determined to try at least one before our trip was over.

“Hey! Y/N! Noah!” A voice called from behind us.

Turning around, we saw Jolly towering over the rest of the crowd and waving at us. Noah sighed before waving back at him.

“I guess we aren’t getting our trip for just us two after all.” He groaned.

“Don’t worry about it. We still have our hotel room to ourselves and we can go out and have dinner just us two. It’s all going to be fine, Noah.” I comforted him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

The rest of the guys all crowded around us, shouting out different things that they wanted to do and explore. Most of the guys wanted to try the Guardians of the Galaxy ride, whilst Noah and I were more hesitant. “Maybe we should just say fuck it and try it out.” I murmured to him.

“Babe, if I’m being honest, that sounds like hell to me.” He laughed in reply.

“I think I’ll try it.” I said confidently. “How bad can it be?”

Noah laughed at that. “Sure.”

“No really. I’m going to do it.” I replied confidently. I was determined to prove to him that I could do it, no matter what.

“Fine. If you do it, I’ll buy you as many churros as you want.” He replied.

“Okay. And what do you get?” I asked

“Oh babe, there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” He laughed, pulling me into his side.

I really loved churros, but was the price I would have to pay worth it? Yes.

We decided as a group to head there first and beat the crowds. Queuing took no time at all and we sat down in our seats. Steven and Noah stayed back holding our bags, whilst the rest of us went on together.

I was sandwiched in between Matt and Jolly, gripping both their hands tightly. My heart raced inside my chest as the attendant came over and lowered the security bar, securing us in place.

“You good?” Matt asked.

I just nodded my head.

He laughed in reply. “It’ll be over before you’ve even realised it’s started.”

I nodded again. Having Matt and Jolly beside me helped calm my nerves ever so slightly.

Suddenly, the ride jolted forward and we were off. Music flooded into my ears, but I couldn’t make out what songs they were playing. All I knew was that it was cheesy 80s hits that I presumed were in the movie. The cart flew along the tracks quickly, taking the air out of my lungs. But it wasn’t fear that I was feeling. It was joy. Pure joy.

I laughed and screamed alongside the rest of the people on the ride. Who knew something like this could be so much fun?

Like Matt had said, it was over before I knew it and the ride pulled to a stop.

My legs felt like spaghetti as I stood up after dismounting the ride. I laughed and clung onto Matt as we walked back to Noah and Steven who were sat on a bench nearby eating something that looked like… a turkey leg?

“Have fun guys?” Steven called out to us. We erupted in various replies of “yes”, “holy shit” and “fuck yeah” as we rejoined them.

“Have fun babe?” Noah asked as he put an arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah, I did actually.” I replied with a wide grin. “It was way more fun than I expected.”

“That’s great babe.” He laughed.

“What the fuck are you eating?” I asked.

“Oh this?” He held up what I thought might be a turkey leg, and ripped a chunk off of it with his teeth, before chewing aggressively. “It’s turkey.” He said with his mouth still full.

I turned away from him with a grimace, making the other guys laugh.

The rest of our day was filled with countless more rides, as Noah now couldn’t keep me off of them, and stupid group photos, obviously pulling weird faces and poses. Keeping up his end of the bargain, like a true gentleman, Noah bought me as many churros as I wanted. In fact, he kept it up for the rest of our stay at Disney Land, which filled me with immense joy.

On our last day, Noah said he had a surprise for me. The guys had shared a knowing look before leaving us to it and heading back to the hotel for the night.

Noah took my hand and guided me to a quiet spot near a restaurant that was on a slight hill and gave us a brilliant view of the Sleeping Beauty castle, whilst being completely out of sight from the crowd.

“What’s going on Noah?” I asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, just wanna show you something.” He replied with a smile.

I gave him a suspicious look before returning my gaze back to the castle.

“I guess I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’m glad we did this trip.” He said after a long pause.

“I love you too.” I said, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad we did this too, even though it’s a bit out of your comfort zone.”

“You got that right.” He laughed.

“Well I do tend to-“ I started.

“Don’t you dare say you’re always right.” He laughed, shoving me playfully.

“Well, I am.” I repied.

“Shush.” He pulled me into his side.

“Why did you even suggest Disney Land?” I asked, looking up at him.

“You never got to go as a kid, and it’s pretty much right on our doorstep.” He replied.

“You remembered that?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, duh. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t.” he laughed, kissing the top of my head.

We stood there in silence as the fireworks started, I leaned back into Noah’s chest as he began to gently sway us back and forth to the music that was playing.

“I love you.” He muttered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back

“Not possible.” Noah replied softly.

He began humming along to the song, his chest vibrating behind my back as the fireworks illuminated the night sky.

So this is what having a soulmate feels like? Like living in a dream that never ends.

[the-fools-route]

THE FOOLS ROUTE

Chapter 3

Google docs isn't working so I don't know the word count. 😐

Expect grammar mistakes

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

" Rise and shine! "

Portia opens the curtains, filling the room with light. I pull the covers over my head, it's way too bright right now.

" Not a morning person huh? Maybe I can convince you to get up with some breakfast? "

I slowly pull the blanket from my face.

" I might be interested."

She laughs at that. She sets a silver tray on the dresser next to my bed. It's filled with warm flaky pastries.

" I also brought a fresh set of clothes for you to wear. "

She sets the clothes pile on my bed, and she looks at me funny.

" Are you ok? You look like you're thinking of something important. "

The golden corridors still cloud my mind.

" Just a weird dream. "

She makes a sound of acknowledgement.

" You have a pretty free day today, all you really have to do is join milady for dinner tonight. I have to leave to run some errands. But till then, the world is your oyster! "

The door clicks and all is quiet. But my mind is not. I cannot stop thinking about last night. I usually have weird dreams, but this one takes the cake. Candlewick lightly lifts his head, swaying. He first slowly surveys the room, then trots to the edge of the bed and slides off. He lazily wanders around the room, exploring his new domain. I pull my phone from my pocket, the battery level is still the same. Strange. I sigh heavily, loud enough to make Wick look at me.

" What do I do now? "

Candlewick sits, as if he was thinking. He then trots to the bed pawing toward the folded clothes.

" Yeah, I should probably change. "

I've been given loose steel blue pants and a lighter blue top. The sleeves are wide and flowing. The outfit clashes with my red shoes, but I don't mind much.

" You know, for a cat you seem to understand me pretty well. "

He rolls on his back ignoring me. The platter Portia left me was fairly large, and very expensive looking. I trace the intricate designs of the silver platter with my finger. There were 5 pastries, some with what looks like fruit jam inside. Don't get me wrong, I love fruit. I'm just picky about how I eat them. Jam is a no no. I take the most plain looking bread roll. I be careful to not drop any crumbs on the floor, which proved to be more of a problem then I thought it would.

I leave my room to explore for the day since I'm not very busy. Candlewick trots close behind me, he seems to be a great travel buddy. I'm glad I'm not alone. The halls are brilliantly lit by the golden sun. The silk curtains gleam and the floors I swear were mirrors in their past life. The halls are much more lively than they were yesterday, people with big hats and bigger feathers adorned on them walk the halls. Some are holding papers or baskets, and some wave at me. I shyly wave back. I really don't belong here, I'm like a stray dog. At least dogs are cute. I explore different rooms, and believe me there are plenty of them here for me to stoop in. I found a a room filled with instruments, and another with chairs and couches. I hope nobody minds that I'm snooping around.

I eventually find large double doors that lead into an empty ballroom, a very big empty ballroom. A glass dome ceiling lets streams of light in, sending gold streaks to dance around the room. I Imagine the light morphing into people in regal dresses and suits, spinning and gliding effortlessly across the floor. It's beautiful. I personally don't know how to dance, but it feel like the right thing to do right now. I pick Candlewick up and hold him in my arms.

" May I have this dance? "

He peeps.

" That's probably a yes. "

I spin around the room trying to copy the golden phantoms around me, it's not easy. I keep tripping over my feet, but I don't mind. I sing to Candlewick a song that doesn't exist here, something only known by me. He purrs contentedly, I swear he's swaying with me. A cloud passes over the skylight dimming the light. The gold dancers disappear leaving us alone. I drop Candlewick and bow, and I can't help myself but laugh. Who knew dancing could be fun? The cloud passes and the room is bright again.

" Where to now? "

He stares at me for exactly two seconds then takes off running to a door on the right. I chase after him.

" Whoa! Can't we just walk or something? "

I dont understand how he can run so fast with so little traction. He slips through a cracked door and disappears. I persue to to little avail. The aroma of flowers swirl around my head as I open the door. I must be on the balcony from yesterday. Large marble stairs lead me down from the balcony to the gardens.

Morning dew blankets vibrant flowers of all shapes and sizes, I recognize a few of them. Peonies, roses, lavender, so on so forth. I move at a slow pace around the garden beds trying to find where that dang cat went, I find nothing but the sound of the early birds and the first sunshine of the day. I end up not finding him in the end, but instead finding a large white pavilion with a table and some chairs. I take a break from searching, he will show up eventually.

A cockatoo lands on the table I'm sitting at. He hops around and surveys me with his red eyes.

" Hello there friend. "

He skips to my hand and nibbles on my fingers. I attempt to pet him with my other hand. He puffs up and hisses at me.

" Fuck you! "

I'm left absolutely stunned. He just cursed at me!

" Excuse me? "

He squawks at me and flys away.

" Well, screw you too bird. "

He taunts me from a tree branch, hopping around puffing his feathers.

" My my, such colorful language. "

I know that voice. I whip around to see Nadia behind me, I didn't even hear her approach me.

" Do you know that bird? "

She sighs.

" Yes, I believe he was my husband's. "

She doesn't look as if she was fond of his bird.

" He always had such a temper. " she sighs.

" Your husband or the bird? "

She looks shocked, I probably shouldn't have said that. I attempt to apologize, but she laughs.

" I believe both, if possible. "

She pulls a chair from the table to sit in.

" I believe I have found a friend of yours. "

She looks to the side were lo and behold, Candlewick emerges from a bush. I think he goes out of his way to give me a hard time.

" How has your time here been? Are you comfortable? "

My hands fidget underneath the table.

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

" I've been fine, I don't have any complaints. "

Her voice is so soothing, she's so easy to listen to. She looks to the sky and smiles.

" It's been a while since I've gotten a chance to sit out here, every time I have a moment to myself another problem arises. "

When was the last time she had a day to herself?

" You could take the day off, go into town, I'm sure nothing too horrible could happen. Worse case scenario a painting falls over. "

She looks at me with wide eyes. Then looks to the side, concentrating. A small sound leaves her mouth with finality.

" Then we shall go to town. "

" We? "

The streets are bustling with noise as people start their day. Shouting and laughing become white noise, almost unnoticed. Almost. Nadia had wrapped herself in a purple shaw to blend in with the crowd. I was dressed ths same, I had no title to draw unwanted eyes, well other than being a thief in that one specific market that I will be sure to avoid, but that's beside the point. I have an ( nearly ) blank slate.

I point out stalls with strange oddities that I had never seen before. The shiny items beckon for me like a siren calling to an unsuspecting sailor. We visit meny vendors selling high quality goods, Nadia has told me at least a billion times that i can get whatever I wanted. Yes, I saw meny nice things. And also yes, I picked up said meny things to admire them with my hands. Feeling the bumps and ridges on everything. But I had no need or want for such things, they're just nice to look at. Time flew by without acknowledgement, we had shared a lunch in some high-rated inn. We had made small talk about restaurants from home.

" So, the owners knew the food was unhealthy? And they sold it anyway? "

I laugh at Nadia's confusion.

" Yep. But everyone still loved McDonald's, as bad as it was. "

I pick at my food before me. I had a plate of some sort of spiced meat drowned in a sauce. I ate most of it but I honestly wasn't all that hungry. I don't want to say we were running out of things to do, but it felt as if we were. There was much more to be done, just not today.

" What do we do now? "

Nadia readjusts her shaw to ensure anonymity, but her eyes never leave me. Once she is satisfied with her disguise she takes my hand into hers and smiles.

" Why don't I take you to a tailor to get yourself outfitted to your preference. I'd love to treat you as a thank you, I haven't had this much fun in a while. "

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

I tear at my nails with uncertainty.

" Are you sure? Do we have time? "

She smiles that beautiful smile once again.

" With certainly. "

So Nadia took me to see a tailor.

She expressed mild worry, as she had never been to this peticular store before. She has high standards for such things, and wanted it to be perfect or it was just a waste of time in her opinion. Once we enter and observe the room to be empty other then the man at the front desk, she removed her "disguise". Two things happen.

First, the man behind the front counter froze for a moment and stuttered his welcome slightly. I bet he didn't count on seeing the Countess in his store today. Secondly, I wondered how the hell is her hair so perfect after being covered and walking around all day.

We are each lead to a room to be measured. I stood on a small platform in the middle of said room, it was filled with mannequins and long rolls of patterned fabric. The room was filled yet was still orderly. I had never been measured before, I just grabbed clothes from my local Walmart and called it a day. I felt as if it was mildly invasive but that was to be expected. Once the man was done he lead me to an even larger room with clothes, he told me they were my size. Or at least close too.

I'm surrounded by suits, evening gowns, and robes. I try on a dress or two. But I don't keep them, i'm not really a dress person. Makes me feel silly for some reason, but the idea of wearing one is nice I guess. If I did wear dresses, i want it to "feel" like me. I don't want to look in the mirror and see someone else. I don't quite know what I'm looking for, as of now I am simply grabbing clothes and trying them on. But nothing really sticks. Not until I find a white blouse. It has puffy sleeves that cinch at the wrists and a simple v-line collar. I back track through the clothes till I find a pair of very dark pants, I try both on. I tuck the blouse in for a cleaner look, yet it's still a bit plain. I search the clothing racks for something to add. A mannequin catches my eye. A leather underbust corset lies wrapped around the wooden waist. I trace my fingers along the strings. This will work.

I stand in front of a tall mirror admiring my work. My white blouse tucked into my pants, then wrapped in the corset. Dark brown leather boots with a pair of slightly lighter half chaps, for a bit of pizzazz. I look at myself in the mirror, admiring my work. Maybe I should find a pretty collar for Candlewick, so he can be fancy too. But that will have to wait, I have a bigger problem at the moment. I need to leave the changing room.

What if my outfit is wrong? What if it's not nice enough? My hand hangs over the doorknob shaking, trembling. I don't understand why I am so hesitant to be seen. Maybe I don't want to be judged. Candlewick leans against my boot, he's either comforting me or demanding attention. Regardless, it calms me. I place my hand on the doorknob, no turning back now.

I'd like to say that the changing room door creaked horrendously loud causing strangers to look at me, and that they turned their heads away with disgust. And that some random woman shielded her baby's eye in fear of it crying because of me. But that's not what happened. The door didn't make a sound, no creaking. It was silent. And the room wasn't filled with potentially upset people, it was nearly empty. Filled only Nadia and a man measuring her clothing size. The tailor barely notices me, Nadia on the other hand definitely saw me.

* Pick *

* Pick *

* Pick *

She smiles but says nothing.

I wait around awkwardly until she was satisfied with browsing the store. She waves her hand to dismiss the tailor. He leaves for a few minutes before returning with a few rolls of fabric.

" I summoned a carriage for us while you were changing, it's late in the afternoon and I don't want to tire you out. Our duties are not yet finished. "

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

" Ok. "

I respond in a small quiet voice, my nerves always get the best of me.

I had never been in a carriage before this. The seats were plush and soft, very inviting. They were a beautiful crimson, like a fine wine. Total upgrade from the hard dirty seats on the bus.

She pat the seat beside her, signaling me to sit. She gently lays her hand on mine, her rings feeling cool on my warm skin.

" You look beautiful in your new clothes, I only hope you shall allow me to spoil you in the future again. "

My face flushes red, I'm not used to such treatment. It made me feel weird. Tingly? I felt warm, I felt . . .

Loved.

The ride wasn't very long, so we were back by sunset. Nadia was pleased that nothing horrific had happened with her temporary absence, as was I. Nadia told me to have some fun before dinner so she sent me on my way. I wasn't really sure what to do, so I just wondered around. I walked with a bounce in my step, I felt like I was shinning.

I feel great here. At home, I felt like I was just some other ordinary teen. No one paid any mind to me. But here? I think I can make something good for myself.

I went to Lucio to show him my new outfit, he was expectedly unimpressed by the lack of "flair and gold ". But he did say it was nice. I told him about my trip with Nadia, and about the new things I had seen. He seemed sour, grumbling how Nadia never took him to town.

We had laid on the rug by the grand window and talked for a long time. He talked about a "red market" and how he loved to romp around and buy whatever he wanted. And I talked about video games I had played and movies I had seen. Lucio seemed quite content with himself, he practically melted into the carpet while I told him the plot of a Disney movie. His eyes were soft and his breathing was steady.

He looked happy.

I obviously couldn't stay forever as I had a dinner to attend, I bid fairwell to Lucio and left. I felt him follow me, although I couldn't see him i knew he was there. I found his dogs lounging about toward the staircase that lead to his side of the palace. I made sure to scratch their ears as I passed. I think Lucio stayed with his dogs because of a sudden feeling of loneliness that came apon me as I left.

I enter the grand dinning room to see Asra and Nadia talking amongst themselves.

" I'm sorry I'm a little bit late, I got lost. "

"With time you will be acoctomed with the layout. What matters is you are here now."

Nadia reassures me that all is well. Thank God, this place is a damn labyrinth.

The long table welcoming, Nadia sits at an end with an empty chair to her side. I'll be between her and Asra. Me and Asra haven't really talked much and I had a few questions. Nothing of importance, I'm just curious of his character. We are brought meals one by one. First a light salad, then some butterd bread, and finally a spiced fish. I'm not really a salad person. I don't prefer it with ranch, although most people do. And I hate croutons. Yes, croutons. But this salad? The one before me?

Heavenly. It was lightly peppered and had a dressing that wasn't overpowering.

This place is awsome.

We had nice conversations about our pasts. I shared pleasant memories of a rainbow xylophone I had when I was young. Asra spoke of adventures to far away places. And Nadia of her childhood home. Eventually Nadia got on the topic of her late husband. No one seemed somber when his death was brought up. Asra briefed Nadia on their recent findings regarding said event. I know it's not my place to ask, but I need to know. Half of his room is suffocated by ash. I want to know why. How do I ask this in a nice way?

" How did he pass away? "

Nailed it.

Asra didn't look uncomfortable, but he didn't look thrilled that I asked.

" 3 years ago my husband was murdered by his personal doctor. "

Time to ask another dumb question.

" His doctor? Was he sick? "

Asra answers my second question.

" He was affected by the red plague. It killed hundreds of innocents. Noone afflicted survived. "

They looked sad now.

" Meny of the deaths, were of people I knew. "

Hundreds? That's horrible. Was it because of the lack of modern medicine? How were so meny lives lost?

" We are still on a man hunt for the man responsible for my husband's death. Dr. Julian Devorak. "

. . .

I pause. Murder? No, not possible. He was so kind to me, to Asra. But Asra is looking for him? We saw him yesterday?

I look at him next to me, we lock eyes. The look he's giving me tells me to stay silent. Dont say anything.

So I said nothing.

[theskeletonprior]

The Third: Oh, Right. My Mood Disorder.

This is a casual little writing challenge to get myself into a habit, perhaps, or if not, to get some words from the meat of my brain to the pulp of the page. All of my stories for this challenge are set in the world of RAVENOT, and if you're curious, you can take a look at my WIP intro right here. And if you're really keen, you can read the first chapter (sort of a pilot as I toil) right here! Now onto the daily ramble.

Yesterday was pretty tough! I didn't write very much at all, though I'll count it a win because I did eke out a couple hundred words. One of the obstacles to my writing is my good old mood disorder. I experience some pretty gnarly anhedonia, which sometimes interferes with my ability to write, because pleasure is something often centred in the act of writing. And I do enjoy it, some of the time, but on occasion I get hit with a wave of perfect indifference, and nothing feels good. It's difficult on days like that to do things anyway, especially when they aren't work-related, and even when they are work-related, the thought that this is work sometimes tangles me up. There's a tendency, I think, to associate work with discomfort, and this is kind of contrary to the idea that writing should also be a passion, a pleasure. Am I a writer even when I don't enjoy it? Is my work important when I do? Is it work, then? These silly little ideas can slow me down considerably. But I wrote anyway, so I'll take that for the victory it is. Today, I feel a bit more motivated. I had a very nice chat with my husband, who listened patiently to my ramblings and asked some very good questions about the worldbuilding and character motives and whatnot. And while I struggle to tell myself that this is an endeavor worth undertaking, it's easier to imagine that it will be fun. I have some Dungeon Master business to attend to today, in preparation for my very first birthday-party session (I am, indeed, a birthday clown, but instead of balloon animals, I bring dragons). This might interfere with my writing, but I hope to make short work of it. Anyway, behold yesterday's excerpt.

Ravenot stood in the dark. Even with the word given, the rush of sentries to open the gate to admit him, he kept his hands raised to show that they were empty. It was well that the town's young guardian had been so reluctant to grant them passage. The Dead could sow deceit when they wished it, take on disguises, or other such cunning, to go amongst the living. Some did so harmlessly, but not all, and not everyone knew what made Ravenot unlike them. Or perhaps the sentry had merely forgotten. Ravenot passed through the gates, flimsy though they were. This town lacked the wealth of the larger cities, and though their wall was well-maintained, it would not have kept him out for long. He kept his hands in front of him, as though he had forgotten to lower them, well aware of the anxious looks from the sentries, roused in the dead of night to let him pass. They parted like a murmuration of birds to clear the way for their elder, who dragged the archer from the wall along by the elbow. "I'm Yarrowling. This here's Hadan," she said. "He's the one who shot at you. Has something to say about it, if you'll hear. And…" Her wrinkled mouth pulled into a crooked grin. "You can put your hands down, now, unless you find you like them better up there." Ravenot did lower his hands, at last, and turned the stillness of his mask on Hadan, who looked as if he might be happier hiding behind Yarrowling. "I'm-sorry-I-shot-at-you-I-didn't-know-who-you-were!" Ravenot canted their head. "You were brave," he said. "It was no harm, though I hope not all thy guests are welcomed thus."

Until next time! Taglist: @rosieartsie @void-botanist @carmillasboywife

As always, let me know if you'd like to join or leave the taglist, and I'll act accordingly.

[seiwas]

YASSS SLEEPOVER IS BACK

how are you sel !!! i've missed hearing about your day and what's going on with your life :)) but i come to the sleepover with hot cocoa mix and lots of bad hallmark movies!

and also my lil sleepover gossip question of the night: do you consider yourself a flirt? are you successful when you flirt or does it fail horrendously? because right now, there's this person i'm interested in but they genuinely make me feel so head empty no thoughts when they're around that i cannot fathom the concept of flirting.

currently throwing a fluffy pillow at you as we speak, make sure you're taking care of yourself sel!

iris!! 🥺 welcome to the sleepover ✨ thank you for your goodies!! i am making us hot cocoa and putting on one of the movies you brought!!! 🥹

i’ve been okay!! the past weekend was rlly busy, but i spent it mostly with my bf and our friends!! 🥹 i also baked a lot yesterday—just some cookies i’m planning to sell in our neighbourhood!! how are you?

oh gawsh iris i’ll be honest 🥺 idt i’m a flirt at all 😭 i am very much a slowburn friends to lovers girl even irl akkssnjxbd my bf rn is (kind of) my hs sweetheart (i say kind of bc we got together towards the end of senior year) & we’re approaching 6 yrs soon 😭 my only other ‘dating’ experience is this thing i had in my 2nd year of hs that only rlly lasted like 3 months (that one was also a friends to lovers case & we are still friends today 😭)

i’ve never attempted flirting w someone (to my knowledge) but i do think i’m pretty vocal when it comes to giving compliments!! and i say things like ‘you’re so cute’ as reactions a lot!! so if you freeze up with flirting, genuine compliments/observations might help? otherwise, just showing you care about/like them in unspoken ways works too 🥺 you can still show interest without flirting!!! ask them to hang out more often, compliment their outfit or if they smell good, or tell them smth you like about their personality!! oh!! and if you can i think subtle touches work too!! hand on arm, that kinda thing!!

it’s so cute how you freeze up with them around tho 🥺

i am catching that fluffy pillow and kicking my feet hehe this is such a cute question iris 🥹 update me how it goes!!!

join the sleepover!! send in anything—a question, a story, dreams, recs, tips and tricks, and more!!

[cryptids-lobelia-garden]

Heh, so uh, funny story! My job was busier than I expected yesterday (and today) so I thought I’d have more time to do this and I didn’t! BUT FRET NOT, FOR IT WAS MADE ANYWAY! Anyway, I’ve accepted my schedule for uploading these will be irrregular, but I’m gonna do it anyway, I’m having fun inflicting my little guys with The Horrors.

Anyway.

I should probably mention my interpretation of Volo isn’t immortal, he’s just a ball of spite towards the god that abandoned him and he will become a ghost type to make sure Arceus never gets peace if he has to.

Warnings: I don’t like Cogita, uh.. aftermath of Pokemon battle gone wrong? They’re okay (I don’t like killing off characters) but yeah, they were outmatched REALLY badly, so. Animal injury. Also animal attack aftermath (not super bad just exists).

Day 4: Swaying

Volo feels.. empty.

His one chance at reaching his goal was snatched away in an instant by outsiders who had no business poking their noses in this. Giratina’s gone- which is his own fault, he had lashed out at them unfairly.

And to top it all off, all his Pokémon were hurt pretty badly in that fight. They had been outnumbered and outmatched, and by the time Volo had the chance to pull his Pokémon out of that fight, they had already given all the fight they had.

He hadn’t made it out unscathed, either. Apparently, Cheri is a zoroark, and he’s also blessed by Arceus, which explains a LOT.

So Volo has a huge set of gashes in his arm that he’s only just managed to wrap tightly enough to stop the bleeding, he’s light headed and he’s almost fallen over a few times in the trek down the mountain, his Pokémon are all hurt pretty badly, and they don’t have a place to stay.

He doesn’t want to go to Cogita. She’s been getting worse as time goes on, and he’s already feeling terrible enough without her quips about.. well..

His entire existence, really.

But he’s sure everyone will know about what happened by the time he gets down the mountain- the siblings had taken off on various flying Pokémon in three different directions. So that takes out both the clans and town, and the Guild, too, since he’s fairly sure Ginter is in town today and will hear of this.

It’s a good thing he had thought to grab his discarded bag. He can at least find a cave or something of the sort, heal his Pokémon, and then..

And then what? There’s nothing else for him here.

Volo takes a deep breath, pushing through the spots in his vision. I don’t care how long it takes.

It could take decades, or even centuries.

I WILL find a way to make this work.

I just need to do more research.

Clouds are starting to gather, threatening rain, and Volo looks up, frowning. It wouldn’t be good to be caught in this, it’s going to be a cold night and he doesn’t want to get sick.. Well. Better hurry, then.

He finds his way to the nearest clear spot, setting down his bag and getting his tent set up as quickly as he can. He has to take time to rest every few minutes, leaning against the nearest tree and catching his breath.

Gods. I’m so cold..

I’ll have to find a Blissey later..

..There HAS to be a way to fix this, right? I’m beaten, but I’m not dead. Giratina’s gone, but there’s other ways to capture a god. I don’t need Giratina’s help, I don’t need anyone, I-

Toge jumps out of her ball, weakly squeaking, and Volo feels his heart drop as he rushes to her side.

“Hey, precious girl,” he murmurs, gently brushing a few of her disheveled feathers back into place. They’re stained with blood and dark-type energy, and he frowns. “Are you okay?”

Another quiet squeak.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to fix this.” He sighs, getting to work finishing setting up the tent. He ignores how standing is starting to put spots in his vision, he needs to get this done before they all get soaked.

It takes a while, and little drops of rain are starting to fall, but once the tent is up, he helps her limp her way inside, letting the others out of their pokeballs too.

They’re all hurt. Luca’s burnt in a few different places from fire and electricity, and Volo’s going to guess he’s lucky if nothing’s broken, with how savagely the bird Pokémon attacked him. Trouble’s shivering, far too cold for a fire type, the rocks in her mane cracked by water and ice. Shark is covered in shimmering wounds, most left by a sylveon. Dried leaf-like skin is flaking off Nightshade, who is burnt even worse than Luca is- even Spiritomb is flickering. Their keystone is, thankfully, intact, but there’s not much power in their disc.

That’s not even mentioning the scratches and bites covering their bodies.

Arceus, I can understand sending people who could defeat me in battle, but why send such strong opponents? Why so many?

This isn’t just a defeat, it’s cruelty.

Luca and Toge are the only ones awake. Luca stands, taking a moment to catch his balance before staggering to Volo’s side. Volo holds his arms open as the lucario falls into him, and he feels a rush of guilt as he pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” Volo murmurs. “I- I shouldn’t have made you all part of this, I..” He sighs, hiding his face in his free hand. “Gods, I am such a fool. I should have realized those three were sent by Arceus, had Their divine blessing.”

Toge squeaks, pushing her way under his arm and resting there, and Volo sighs, staring at the ground.

I really am a joke in Arceus’s eyes, aren’t I? They didn’t even send an adult to deal with me. They sent children.

Sure, they are good battlers, but even so, they’re still CHILDREN.

Perhaps the fact they were sent was a testament to their strength.

Or maybe it only proves how little Arceus really thinks of me.

Volo starts digging through his bag, pulling out bandages, potions, and revives. Whatever the case, I have more important things to worry about right now. Like making sure my Pokémon survive this.

He starts quickly treating the wounds that need the most immediate attention. He doesn’t have a lot of potions on him, but thankfully, he has enough to fix the majority of the worst damage, and he does that before waking the ones who are still knocked out. Then he gets to work bandaging the rest.

I’m glad I thought to stock up on bandages the last time I got a chance to.

A sudden chill brushes through him, and he unpins his shoulder cape, quickly pulling on his merchant outfit. He might hate the job, but at least the clothes are warm.

It doesn’t help much, but his arms are covered and he’s a little warmer.

He lets out a quiet sigh. “..How are you all doing? Is it cold?”

Most of his Pokémon seem okay now, if maybe a little lightheaded, but Shark and Nightshade are both pretty cold, and they look at him with pleading eyes.

“Right. Here.” Volo holds out their Pokeballs, and the garchomp and roserade hurry to jump in. Tucking those to his chest to hopefully keep them warm, Volo sighs, pulling the other four close.

..I’m going to fix this. We all deserve a better world, and damn what Arceus does, I’m going to find a way to make it.

I’ll find a way to do it if it kills me.

~~~~~

(Edited for Hemlock’s name, nightshade didn’t exist at the time in Japan I think based on my research but hemlock did. Also some formatting fixes.)

[trimont]

Drabble: December 29

Trigger Warnings: Overdose, possible suicide attempt, irresponsible dog ownership.

Yesterday

While most people thought of the week between Christmas and New Years Eve as that week where nothing gets done, for Tristan it was always one of his busiest weeks of the year. As someone who got famous for being famous and who was notorious for blacking out at bars in his youth, the week between Christmas and New Years was his time to shine. He was booked to attend multiple parties throughout the week, and don’t get him started on New Years Eve… When he last checked in with his business manager, he was scheduled to attend ten different parties throughout the night. Something he’d learned over the years was to not drink the week between the holidays. He needed to drink a hell of a lot of tea and water throughout the week so he could keep going on NYE.

This also meant that he did a lot of sleeping in during the in-between holidays week, too. Gremlin kept announcing that Daddy was a vampire, and honestly… she wasn’t half-wrong about that. Still, the thing was… most people knew he slept during the day during this week, so his phone going off before noon was not normal.

“‘Lo?” He mumbled out into his phone, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. He’d been asleep for maybe four hours? If he was being generous with his guess. Honestly, he had no idea when he’d fallen asleep let alone what time it was now. “‘S Tris’an.”

There was a beat before a professional voice responded. “Hey, Tristan. It’s Gloria over at MTV.”

Now that got his attention, he rolled up into a sitting position and scrubbed a hand over his face. Princess was curled up on Eden’s pillow, which had more to do with the fact that she was jealous of how much of Tristan’s time his fiancé took up more than anything else. “Hey, Gloria. We didn’t have anything scheduled today, did we?” He yawned and attempted to wrack his brain for something - anything - that was on his schedule. Hell, he was pretty damn good at keeping his schedule in line these days. A perk of getting older he supposed. 

“We didn’t.” She replied, in a tone of voice that made him think she was annoyed. “Lacey was supposed to come in to do some promo reshoots for Sleepless in Seattle. No one has been able to get a hold of her. You haven’t heard from her today have you?”

Fuck, he wasn’t even with Lacey anymore and still people had the audacity of reaching out to him when they couldn’t get in contact with her. It was annoying as hell, but he supposed that’s what happened when you had a kid with someone – you were bonded together for life. “No, I haven’t seen her since Christmas Day. She was supposed to pick up Mer yesterday, but something came up.” He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I have a key to her place because of Mer. I can go check on her if you’re that worried.”

Gloria gave a relieved sigh. “That would be fantastic, Tristan.” She hesitated for a moment, as though she was debating with herself about something. “If you get there and there’s something that maybe…” She seemed to be fumbling over what she wanted to say, but Tristan got the drift. Hell, he’s sure over the years someone had gotten the same speech about him.

“If there’s anything the network needs to do damage control on, you’ll be my fourth call.” He promised before hanging up.

++

After knocking on the door for a couple of minutes, Tristan let himself into her place. “Hey, Lace. It’s me.” He called out, toeing his shoes off out of habit more than anything else. “You home? I saw your car outside.” He called. “Gloria from the network called. You were supposed to do some reshoots today. You here?”

The living room and kitchen were empty. He barely got a couple of steps towards where the bedrooms and bathrooms were when Puff came barreling out of the back, barking his little head off. Now that he was looking, it looked like Puff had shit in the living room, which wasn’t normal behavior for the dog. “Hey, buddy. Where’s Lacey?” He asked as he scooped the dog up before heading towards Lacey’s room. “Lace, it’s past noon. Where are you?”

As they passed the bathroom, Tristan realized his feet were wet. Fuck. He popped his head into Lacey’s room and dropped the dog in there when he saw it was empty. After the dog was safely out of the way, he opened the bathroom door and froze. The bathtub faucet was running, and there was a good inch of water on the floor. Lacey was in the tub, but it didn’t look like she was moving. 

“LACE.” He bellowed as he turned the faucet off, and pulled his coparent out of the water. Tristan dropped to his knees, Lacey cradled in his lap. “Lace?!” He frantically felt for a pulse. Her body wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t sure if that was because of the water or if it was because she was still alive. He couldn’t find one, but fuck he didn’t know what he was looking for. His hand dropped to her mouth, and everything in him was weeping with joy when he felt the breath against his hand. If his kid lost her mother again… fuck. 

“Oh thank fuck.” He fumbled for his phone and immediately called 9-1-1. “Hi. Yes. My ex was non-responsive in her bathtub. I don’t know how long she’s been in there or what she took, but she’s breathing. Barely, but she’s breathing. What do I do?”

Today

Over the past year, he’s had to have a couple of difficult conversations with his four year old, but this one was probably the worst one to date. He’d practiced what he was going to say with Eden for hours, but he didn’t feel prepared for it at all. Eden said he was going to be fine, but she also thought it was a conversation he needed to have alone with Merritt. Of course she was right, but that didn’t make this conversation any easier. 

“Daddy?” Merritt crawled onto the couch next to him. “How come everyone’s been so sad today? Mommy E was crying, and Mommy Mommy isn’t here to play yet? I asked Tee, but he said to ask you.”

Tristan gave his daughter a wobbly smile before pulling her into his lap. “Mommy E is a little sad today.” He told her honestly. “You know how I had to leave for a long time yesterday?”

Merritt nodded. “Mommy Mommy slept too much, and needed Daddy to wake her up ‘cause that’s what friends do.” It sounded like something Troy must have told her.

“Your Mommy was really sick yesterday. I had to take her to the hospital, and the doctors had to take care of her. She had a lot of yucky things in her tummy, and the doctors had to take them out with a special machine.” He tried to explain. How the fuck did you explain an overdose that may have been a suicide attempt to a child? “They got all the yucky things out, but Mommy is still really sick. The hospital is going to have to keep her for a week, and then she’s going to have to go to a special kind of hospital that doesn’t allow visitors. But Puff is going to live with us while she's gone. That's going to be fun, right”

She blinked up at him. “Mommy’s sick?” She asked in a little voice. “Can we go visit her?”

Tristan swallowed. “No, baby. We’re not going to be able to see her for a long time, but she’s going to be able to call us in a couple of weeks. She’s just so sick that she needs a lot of time to get better.” He tried to explain. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to explain a psych hold followed by rehab? Fuck.

“Oh.” She was quiet for a long moment. “Like last time?” She slumped in his arms. “Daddy? How come Mommy keeps going away from us?”

He was going to fucking vomit. Fuck. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “But I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever.”

Merritt looked up at him with wet eyes. “Promise, Daddy?”

“Pinky swear, Grem. It’s me and you - always.”

“And Mommy E.” Merritt added.

Tristan glanced up to find Eden standing in the doorway. “Me, you, Mommy E, and Tee. The four of us forever.” 

Merritt snuggled against him. “Kay. We’ll make Mommy a card later. Can we watch Moana?”

“Whatever you want.” He whispered out. “Whatever you want.”

[icecreamsodaaaaa]

Hiya! Mind if you do Bullfrog the mudwing or Sixclaws the sandwing? Thanks if ya' do! :)

More like dadwing

[redsoul-writing]

Hi! May I request a law x reader but reader is his wife and is about to tell law she's pregnant? I see law as that one who process it for a couple of minutes then goes: "oh... Oh!"

REQUESTS STILL OPEN

Oh my god! This has to be the cutest one I’ve down so far. Even cuter than the Chopper and older sibling HCs I wrote. Love, love, LOVE this.

I’ve also noticed you guys (like me,) love Law. I was thinking about writing a short series (if I had time, don’t get your hopes up too much lol). I’d love some suggestions, like if you want a high school AU, College AU, Same universe, or a plot you’d like. Please feel free to send suggestions about it through the request button. Thanks! (Again, it’s not set in stone!)

Sunday. Today you decided, was the day to tell your husband about your soon to be family. He’d been somewhat busy, but you were mostly stalling it a little because you didn’t know how to tell him. You’d finally made a choice, remembering that Law doesn’t like anything too extravagant and enjoys the simple things in life.

That being said, you prepared something just a tad special, rather than just telling him up front. It’d be boring otherwise. You also picked today since it was the start of his 1 week vacation from work.

You were in the kitchen sitting on the bar stool, drinking some tea. You didn’t drink tea very often, but you felt better being a little healthier from now on (for obvious reasons). You knew tea was recommended to be reduced during pregnancy, so you’ll have to find an alternative later.

Was Law going to be happy? You weren’t actively trying for a baby, but it doesn’t seem like he’d be upset at the idea. You’d never asked, so you wouldn’t know. You assured yourself he was going to react positively.

Speak of the devil, you turn your head at the sound of footsteps getting louder in the hallway.

There he was, entering the kitchen. Handsome as ever. He had the messy, soft hair you loved running your hands through. After yawning, he opened his eyes, vision a bit clearer.

“Good Morning, babe.” You smiled as you sipped your tea.

He walked closer to you, and gave you a good morning kiss. “Good morning.”

“Sleep well?” You asked, something seemed a little different. Just a gut feeling.

“Yeah, I slept pretty good actually. I didn’t have a lot of work yesterday.” He went to grab a mug from the cabinet.

“That’s good— oh, I made us breakfast already.” You pointed out.

“Hm?” He turned to look at the dinner table.

“You didn’t have to do tha…, why?” Law raised an eyebrow.

Don’t get him wrong, he was thankful. He’d just made you agree not to make breakfast by yourself, he said it felt like he burdened you? Didn’t make much sense, but you thought it was adorable.

“I just felt like it. You seemed to have slept like a baby.” You winked as you got up from the barstool.

Law smirked, acting like he wasn’t confused on why you’d winked. “Thank you. Don’t do that again though, I want to make breakfast with you.” he followed you to the dinner table.

“Any plans today?” Law asked, sitting down.

“Mm.. No, not really.” You sipped on your tea.

“What ab-“ he paused.

You looked up, confused as to why he stopped talking mid sentence.

“Since when did you drink tea?” He took a sniff, “Black tea at that.” He raised a brow again, knowing your dislike of bitter things.

“I’m not sure, I didn’t want coffee today though.” You shrugged.

Law wasn’t fully convinced, but it wasn’t that important, so he let it go. It was a bit strange though.

————————————————————————

You’d both finished eating, Law bringing you your empty mug and the dishes, you rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher.

He came back with the last plate, and handed it to you.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” You rinsed it an put it in the dishwasher.

While you were closing said dishwasher, Law had noticed a folder on the island. That’s strange, he hadn’t left a report out yesterday, had he? It was the same type he took to and from work. Wait- was it even there when he walked in earlier?

He walked closer to the island.

Grabbing the folder he asked “Hey, Y/n, is th..” he paused once he opened it, coffee still in hand.

It was.. an ultrasound? He wasn’t a radiologist, maybe it was his co-workers?

“What were you saying honey?” You asked, taking a seat once again on the barstool.

“Mm. Nothing, it’s an ultrasound, probably took a coworkers folder by accident.” He brought up his mug to his lips

“You’re still in autopilot? We’re so judging you right now.” You sighed playfully.

It was a habit of his. Despite getting better sleep last night, it seems the effects of his normal sleep schedule were still present.

His hand stopped, and he only seemed to hear the second part of your comment.

“Who’s ‘we’?” He questioned

“The baby and I.” You said casually. “Those pictures are mine.”

“Oh, okay.” He tuned out taking a sip of his coffee.

He walked to you, giving you a kiss on your cheek before entering the hallway, on his way to start the day.

You sighed, and started counting down in your head.

3

2

1..

Crash

THUD

Oh, that didn’t sound too good—

“HOLD ON!” Laws voice rang through the house.

Trafalgar D. Law, was yelling and desperately trying (keyword trying) to get through the hallway. You thought it was hilarious.

He finally came through, and almost fell over but he grabbed onto the counter you were sitting next to.

“You-?! Thats your— my-?!” Words were not registering in his mind right now.

Your giggled seemed to calm him down just a tad.

He grabbed your shoulders, “You’re pregnant?!” Toning his voice down a little.

“Yes.” You grinned

“I’m.. I’m going to be a father..?” It finally clicked into his accelerating brain.

You nodded.

Law fell onto his knees, with his arms around your waist. He buried his face in your lap.

Your laugh is all he heard, accompanied by your hands running through his hair.

“Took you long enough.” You teased

Law looked up, grasping your hand in his own.

“I can’t believe it..”

“We’re gonna be a family.” You assured him softly.

He dragged your hand and put it against his lips, kissing it softly. It’s crazy that still made you blush no matter how long you've been together.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying much attention.” He kissed the palm of your hand, in hopes of forgiveness.

“You’d better be.” You poked his cheek. “Autopilot again.”

AHHHH THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT!!

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [9/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: wow, it has been a while! I'm sorry it has been so long; I am pretty busy with school at the moment. But I wanted to let you all know that I see your kind asks/messages, and if I haven't answered you yet, I will soon; I appreciate each and every one of them! This chapter has the fear sim and reader accidentally skips lunch, so trigger warning for fear of not being good enough/failure, and Peter being a creep (nothing happens though). Idk how I feel about this chapter, but please let me know what you think! <3

Metal on metal woke you up, and you sat up with a start at the unpleasant sound. After scanning the room, you saw that it was just Four with his trash can lid and ladle waking everyone up, as per usual. “Alright, today is the first day of stage two, and after last night we let everyone sleep for an extra hour. So, get your asses out of bed, get dressed, and eat breakfast before reporting to the training room, and we’ll walk from there to the simulation rooms together. In one hour, we are going to start the simulations, so don’t be late!” Four announced before walking out of the room. As soon as he was out of sight, several initiates groaned in frustration.

“I am so fucking tired,” Christina said.

“Tell me about it,” you replied, lifting up your shirt to reveal the bruises on your side from your fight with Peter. Christina’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe that was yesterday! Do you need pain meds or anything along with breakfast?” she asked, her eyes softening in concern.

“I’ll be fine,” you smiled, getting dressed as you spoke. “I just want something to eat.”

“You can say that again,” Will said as he and Tris joined you and Christina, making a small circle.

“Alright, let me get my shoes on,” you said, pulling on your already worn-in combat boots and lacing them up before the four of you left the dorm.

--

The four of you walked into the dining hall, heading straight for an empty table. As Will started filling his plate with scrambled eggs, you scanned the room, feeling someone’s eyes on you. All the other initiates were too preoccupied with making themselves eat despite how appealing the idea of taking a nap right at the table seemed. Eventually, your gaze made its way to the leader’s table, where you locked eyes with Eric, who raised an eyebrow at you as if in some kind of challenge. You held his gaze momentarily, only looking away when Tris tapped your shoulder. You looked at her questioningly, and as she passed you the serving spoon for the eggs, you realized everyone else had begun eating except for Tris, who always waited until everyone was served to eat. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

As if rudely parodying your thoughts, Peter stepped up to the table you and your friends were sitting at and said “The Stiff still doesn’t understand that here, she actually needs to eat if she wants to survive.”

“Fuck off, Peter,” Christina said, rolling her eyes.

Stepping away, Peter raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m going, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure you all knew that there’s no way you’ll pass the fear sims,” he smirked, turning on his heel and leaving everyone at your table annoyed and a little scared, the reminder about the fear sims bringing your anxieties about them to the forefront of your mind. And it seemed like you weren’t the only one.

“What an ass,” Will said, trying to focus on his food rather than the churning nerves in his stomach.

“You’re telling me,” Tris mumbled, and you grinned a little bit at this snarky side of her.

Just as you turned back to your food, you heard combat boots hitting the concrete behind you, and without turning around, you said “I thought we told you to fuck off, Peter.” The table had gone quiet, and you saw everyone staring at you. Dread settled over you. “It’s not Peter is it,” you asked with a wince.

“No, initiate, it’s not Peter,” Eric’s unmistakable voice chuckled from behind you. You sat up straight, turning to face the leader, who stood with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, amused at your embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Obviously, I was expecting someone else.” Eric raised a brow at that but otherwise his face reimagined stoic.

“Clearly,” he replied. “I came to ask you two,” he looked between you and Will before continuing, “what you know about the latest serum developed for fear sims.”

Will shook his head, eyes wide. “Nothing, sir,” he said. With a nod, Eric turned his attention to you.

“Only that it’s more powerful, obviously, otherwise they wouldn’t need to update it in the first place, but--” you cut yourself off, suspicion that had been creeping in since Eric asked the question finally taking over.

“Anything else?” he asked knowingly.

“No, sir,” you shook your head.

“Alright,” he said unconvinced before walking away without another word.

“What was that about?” Will asked, leaning across the table towards you.

“I don’t know, I just gave the basics about why any serum would be modified, and I had this feeling… I don’t know, it just seemed suspicious that Leadership would ask us rather than Jeanine. Maybe it was a test?”

“Something like that,” Will said, trying to convince himself.

Tris, who had gone silent, stood up abruptly, tapping you on the shoulder. “I’m going to use the restroom before heading over to the training room. See you there,” she excused herself, nodding at you subtly. A few moments later, you excused yourself from the table and made your way to the nearest bathroom, where Tris stood waiting.

“Hey,” you whispered. “What’s up?”

Without wasting any time, she said “We have to tell Four what you just told Eric.” You hesitated for a minute before nodding. Something was strange about what had happened earlier, and if Tris was willing to put her trust in Four, you would too.

“You tell him,” you said after pacing the bathroom for a moment. “He knows you better anyway,” you added.

“Okay,” Tris agreed. “I’ll tell him later today if I can.”

“Good. Now, let’s get to the training room,” you said, already heading for the door.

--

“Ladies,” Peter leered as you and Tris walked into the training room and walked over to where Will and Christina were standing. As other Dauntless initiates filed into the room, Four and Eric stood at the front of the room, surveying the crowd.

“Okay,” Eric said, stepping forward to address the nervous crowd. “Everyone follow Four and me, we are taking you to a holding room where you will wait to be called for your first fear simulation. Let’s go,” he barked out the order after explaining, and he and Four started walking through the hallways, stopping once they reached a stark, white room with benches lining two of the walls.

“Take a seat, give us a minute to set up, and then we’ll start calling you into those rooms,” Four said, pointing to the two doors on the back wall.” Then, he and Eric disappeared, each through one of the doors, and the room went silent as initiates fidgeted in their seats. After about a minute, Four and Eric popped their heads out of the doors, calling names, and the fear sims had begun. The initiate in Four’s testing room walked out thirteen minutes later on wobbly legs, pale and sweaty. Thirty seconds later, the initiate in Eric’s room walked out in tears. All the initiates in the waiting room looked around, the reality of the situation settling over them, becoming real in a way that it hadn't been before. As the next pair of names was called, the two people who had been selected stood up much more hesitantly than the first pair of initiates had, and Eric glared at one of them, who you recognized as Selene. You watched as the other woman steeled herself and walked faster, more confidently, towards Eric’s room, the door slamming shut behind her.

--

Minutes seemed to stretch on forever, and each initiate walked out looking worse than the last. You’d fallen into a kind of stupor, choosing to focus on what you know, facts that could keep you grounded. Fact number one: it was a simulation. Fact number two: even if the sim caused a real-time trauma response in the body, which it seemed like it did, no one had ever died from a panic attack--at worst, you pass out and your body “resets” in a way. Fact number three: neither instructor would let something truly terrible happen. Four wasn’t malicious, and Eric had mentioned your potential; he wasn’t going to let someone who could help the faction in the future die. A part of you hoped he cared about you as an acquaintance after the limited time you two had spent together. It wasn’t enough to be a friendship, but it was more than anyone else had with the ruthless leader. As your mind wandered to thoughts of your time with Eric, you reminded yourself to stick to facts only; those were certain, they were grounding. Before you could continue talking yourself out of thinking about feelings rather than facts--fear is technically a feeling, something deep inside the crevices of your mind echoed, as if tying tall of he thoughts you’d been having for the past hour or so up in a pretty knot, Eric opened the door to his testing room and made eye contact with you. “You’re up, initiate,” he said. You rose to your feet, and walked forward. It was time to face your fears.

--

You stood in the middle of a crowd, arms and legs tied together, mouth gagged. Your muscles ached; you’d been fighting for hours, and your mind was sluggish after so much exertion. Looking at the faces around you, you saw the faces of various people who had appeared in your life, ranging from your friends and family to a Factionless man you’d seen on the street a year ago. “It’s okay,” they said, speaking in one echoing voice. “We know you did your best.” You looked down at yourself and saw blood and grime, and your cheek stung as a salty tear rolled down your face. Inside your mind, you knew that there was a second part to that statement, something the voices had left to say. You stared into the eyes of your father as he said in a foreign chorus of voices “your best just wasn’t enough.” Suddenly, you knew this fear; you’d been here before, maybe in your nightmares once. If the simulator plays off the subconscious, you thought, then it can only use things I already have the capacity to imagine. So how would I get out of this? You considered. You saw a knife strapped to the ankle of one of the strange bodies surrounding you, and despite your hands being bound, you made a grab for it. As you reached for the knife, the ground opened up beneath you, transforming the space around you into a cell. There was blood on your hands, and Dauntless leadership stood outside the cell beside your parents.

“You did what you had to do,” your mother reassured you. “You’ll get out of there soon.”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you defended, despite being unsure of what had happened. Max stepped forward.

“No, you did what you had to do. That child was a threat to us all.” And, much like the last scene, you realized what the fear was in one horrific moment. You had killed someone, someone young. It was self defense, you’re sure of it, but that didn’t change the guilt that you felt. What if, even though you could perform your Dauntless duties you couldn’t handle the emotional aftermath? Before you had the chance to spiral, you caught a glimpse of Eric’s tall figure walking around beyond the cells. If he can live with himself, balancing the good with the bad, you thought, remembering all the times he had yelled at initiates as well as the time he let you sleep in his apartment, then so can I. Survival first, there will be time for guilt later. And then the scene changed again.

You were in the fighting ring, and Peter stood over you. “Someday, I will beat you,” he whispered threateningly. “And when I do, I will show you which one of us really holds the power.” An adrenaline rush unlike any other came over you as Peter’s words sank it, and without a second thought, you headbutted him, standing up.

“You are a coward!” You yelled. “Threatening me with something like your pathetic manhood just to feel more in control? It’s because you can’t beat me unless I’m scared, and you think you can scare me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Peter smirked. You rushed at him, and as your fist collided with his face, you woke up.

“Well, that was fast,” Eric drawled from beside you. You were startled, having forgotten he was there, but you managed not to flinch. You looked up at Eric and locked eyes with him.

“Did I do well?” you asked, only shaking slightly as you came down from the adrenaline high.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “Now, get out of here. I have more initiates to test.” With a deep breath, you rose from the chair, stumbling slightly, and Eric steadied you. “Careful, I’d hate for one of our top initiates to accidentally fall into the chasm just because they aren’t used to the feeling of the serum wearing off and coming down from the adrenaline spike.”

“Thanks,” you said with a tight smile as you slid out of his grasp and walked out of the room, carefully avoiding your fellow initiates’ stares.

--

After wandering the halls for a while, taking care to avoid the chasm, you grabbed your bag from the dorm room and searched for a quiet spot to read, settling on an empty training room that was a little smaller than the one you and the other initiates had trained in. After settling down on a surprisingly clean sparring mat, you reached into your bag for the book your father had given you on visiting day. You were almost done with Eric’s book, and you knew if you read it now you’d finish it, but your mind wanted to get lost in another world, which was why the book your father had given you, titled Mythos Priories: Origin Stories and Mythologies From Around the World, was the perfect book to read right now. You took a moment to admire the beautiful quetzal that graced the front cover of the book, vibrant scales and feathers lined with gold amazing you every time you looked at them. You opened the book and began reading, content to get lost in the legends of long ago for the time being.

--

Some time later, about fifty pages into the book, someone stopped in the doorway, cleared their throat, and said “Well, this is unexpected.” You turned to see Eric, trying to keep your annoyance at being interrupted under control. “You know this is a private training room, right?” he questioned.

“No, I did not,” you replied with a frown as Eric walked over to you. “The door was open,” you shrugged.

With a short laugh, Eric said “Just because a door is open, doesn’t mean you should enter,” and you studied his face, unsure if he was being serious or messing with you. His possibly serious demeanor changed in an instant though, as he looked down at your book and plucked it with your hands, grinning. “Origin stories and Mythologies, how interesting,” he said, looking at the cover of the book before opening it back up to where you had stopped reading. “Japanese mythology?” he asked, skimming the page.

“Yeah,” you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s so interesting and overlooked, as are most Eastern mythologies, in academia in favor of Western mythologies. I mean, everyone knows the Greek and Roman myths, but this stuff is much less common,” you said, excited, and Eric smiled a bit at your enthusiasm.

“I thought you were done with Erudite?” he teased.

“I am!” you defended yourself. “I just like reading…”

Eric nodded before saying “I would keep that a secret if I were you,” he advised. “Wouldn’t want anyone doubting your loyalties before you’re even a fully-fledged member of Dauntless.” You searched his eyes for a threat in the statement, but there was none that you could see, and you nodded, taking the book back. “Are you done with my book?” Eric said, breaking the semi-awkward silence that had fallen between you two.

“I’m almost done with it,” you said. “I just wanted something a little more fantastical, after, you know…” you trailed off. Eric nodded in understanding.

“You did well. It gets easier, you know.” It came out stiffly, but you knew that was his way of offering comfort, and you smiled in thanks. “Now, if you don’t mind, I was going to train in here, so either get ready or get out,” Eric said, crossing his arms. You sat there for a moment, shocked, before making a split-second decision to join him in training.

With a nod, you stood and gathered your things, put them on a bench near the wall, and jogged back to the mat.

--

You groaned as Eric kicked your leg out from under you, sending you harshly to the mat once again. “Damn it,” you forced out, propping yourself up on your elbows. Eric only grinned at you smugly. “I am still an initiate, no need to be so smug about beating me,” you muttered as you stood up, feeling new bruises develop on your already tender skin. You expected the leader to scowl; your exhaustion had lowered your sense of self-control, and this wasn’t the first snarky remark you’d made to him. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Well, well, it appears someone gets hangry,” he said, checking the clock. You followed his gaze and saw that it was already dinner time--how had you missed lunch? Usually you didn’t let time get away from you like that, but after the fear landscape, you’d delved into reading and training, and the hours had flown by faster than you’d realized.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly. “I guess I read through lunch,” you explained.

Eric’s demeanor changed in an instant. “You didn’t eat lunch? And still trained with me? What the hell is wrong with you?” You winced a little, feeling like an idiot. He wasn’t yelling at you, but you could feel the disappointment radiating off of him.

“It was an accident; I guess I just read through it, I--” you started to explain, and you were glad your face was flushed from training because it hid the embarrassing pink flush across your cheeks.

“It’s fine… this time,” Eric said, a little calmer than before. “Just… you know you could pass out if you do something like that again.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

Eric nodded and gathered his things, and you did the same. “Let’s go; it’s dinner time and I am walking you to the dining hall to make sure you don’t pass out on the way there. Make sure to eat something.”

“I will! I-” you said, a little defensively, before cutting yourself off. You were about to say “I promise”, but that felt too intimate, too personal. Was it weird to make promises, especially ones like that, to your leader? You supposed it was already weird to train in a private room with your leader, so after a moment of consideration, you finished the sentiment, locking eyes with Eric as you said “I promise.” He nodded curtly, and the two of you walked out of the training room together, bags in hand, and made your way to the dining hall.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny, @parabatai-winchester, @marvel-ousnesss, @kid-from-new-zealand, @polychr0matic, @maan24, @abysshaven, @darkenwolfie, @adaydreamaway08, @ssa--holmes, @poisonmenegan, @hannibalsslut, @louiselikeswriting, @haroldpatterson, @urgrlfnm

[4joonkookie]

Crush

❈ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (x Yoongi)

❈ Words: 6.6K

❈ Summary: (Smutty) Boyfriend!Jungkook can sense you and Yoongi are horny for each other and let's you indulge.

(Angsty) After being quarantined together in domestic bliss for a few months, Jungkook asks you to stay for good.

(Smutty & Angsty) Jungkook asks you to move in permanently. You and Yoongi almost set the house on fire when Jungkook makes an offer you can't refuse.

❈ Warnings/Tags: Plot, There's Plot., Smut, Established Relationship, Angst, Morning Sex, Dirty Talk, Loud Sex, Thin Walls, Blurred Lines, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Face Sitting, Cumplay, Cum Spitting, Hair Pulling, Cum Eating, Doggy Style, Brief Ass-Licking, Arguing, Crying, Commitment Issues, Threesome, Female Character with Fuckboi Tendancies, JK has a lot of money, Quarantine, Writing is Hard, Cuckhold, Spitroast.

❈ Notes: -Can be read as Part 3 of the Mirror, Mirror Series or standalone:) -Takes place Summer 2020-ish.

You can feel his eyes on you before you even open yours.

Jungkook smiles next to you on the bed, head propped on his bent elbow. “I like this,” he says.

“Like what?” You yawn and stretch and coax yourself into staying awake.

“Everyday, when I wake up, you’re right here.” He brushes bed-head hair away from your face. “We should keep it like this.”

Rolling over on top of him, “You think so?”

“I know so,” he says, as you lean down to kiss him, morning breath and all. There was a time when neither of you would have ever allowed your mouths near each other before brushing.

It seems like some alternate universe now even though it was just 3 months ago. Drowning in work, living in hotel rooms and hoping you could sneak away for a weekend with your long-distance boyfriend, if your schedules would allow it.

Then the world came to a screeching halt. Your job had been cancelled indefinitely, you’ve hardly worn anything but hoodies and sweatpants for months and you’ve gone from a long-distance girlfriend to a live-in domestic partner.

You’d never thought you and Jungkook would end up this way. You integrated together effortlessly, as if it has always been this way. Any worries you had about meshing with the other members were unfounded too. You’ve never had friends so close. You’ve never had time for hobbies or doing things you actually like.

You never thought you would end up like this.

Straddling his hips, Jungkook rubs his hands on your naked skin. He slides his hardening cock between your unclad folds, still wet and open from the night before.

He continues thinking aloud. “You should stay here.” He pushes up, pressing his shaft on your clit. “We could start everyday like this.” He guides himself easily inside and you groan, still sensitive. “I’m serious. Don’t go back to work.” He slides in and out comfortably. “Stay here.”

“Jungkook, I can’t live here,” you scold, circling your hips a few times. You try to distract him and yourself, not telling him about the conversation with your work yesterday. You could be back as little as a week.

“But you do live here. He stops his motion and holds your hips still. “You just need to unpack your boxes.”

You’ve all but officially moved in yet your belongings remain in boxes. It would be easy to empty the boxes and put things in a permanent place. Also, equally as easy to tape the lids shut and ship them back to your old life.

You ignore his comment and brace your hands on the wall above the headboard, gaining traction to move your hips. He pulls your arms down and holds them to your sides.

“I've already talked to everyone.” Holding down harder, preventing you from moving.

“You did?” His words finally hold you still.

“Of course. They said it was silly I asked because you already live here. Everybody said they would love to keep having you here.”

He pulls you down to whisper: “Especially Yoongi.”

“Shut up.” You playfully slap his chest, embarrassed.

He is not wrong. You and Yoongi had become particularly close since being here. You have a lot of fun together, cooking, playing guitar, there’s a bit of tension there. It never goes beyond playful flirting but it’s been obvious for a while now. Jungkook is secure and is sure to openly poke fun at the both of you about it.

Jungkook laughs, moving his hips again. “You guys crush on each other so hard, it’s cute.” He continues whispering. “You know he can hear you?” He points to the wall above his head.

“No!” You whisper back in disbelief. Yoongi’s room is just on the other side of the wall.

“Yes, he told me. He can hear everything,” he still whispers but thrusts up into you harder, forcing a noise from you.

Jungkook is always one to tease but the way he keeps his voice at a whisper makes you know his words are true.

He continues his harsh thrusts as he whispers. “He’s probably still in bed right now, jerking his morning wood with his ear against the wall.”

“Jungkook, stop!” You continue to reprimand him but can’t prevent a grin at the idea.

“You love it.” He lifts your hips and drops you down hard. You try to stifle the moan it elicits. “You like the idea that he’s there right now with a good grip on himself, palming up and down to the sounds of your noisy moaning.”

“I am not noisy,” you defend yourself quietly.

“You are so noisy!”, he says loudly enough to travel through the walls.

The room finally quiets and Jungkook tries to keep his own breathing steady as your pelvises grind against each other. You close your eyes and let the fantasy swim in your mind. Yoongi, slipping his hand under the waistband of his pants, listening to you.

Jungkook continues to fuel the fantasy as your bodies set a rhythm. “He’s rubbing himself raw, wishing his spit and hand was as wet and slippery as this pretty pussy.”

Jungkook takes your prudish whimpers as a challenge and flips your body so you’re on all fours and places a grip around your hips that promises bruises. He sets a punishing, slapping pace. Probably echoing through the entire house, you bury your face in the pillows.

He pulls you up by your shoulders and holds you still as he pounds into you. “Come on baby, don’t you want him to get off?”

He continues his heavy pace and you surrender as the pressure builds at your core, cock slamming into your g spot, unable to stop the moans from escaping if you tried. Your legs shake when liquid begins to gush and drip down the inside of your thighs with every thrust.

Jungkook growls, happy with evidence of his skill and he comes to the sounds of your bodies slamming together.

You both collapse to the bed and catch your breath. You lay around just a little longer, taking each other in and reveling in your safe little world.

Eventually, you both roll out of bed, throw on clothes and head out into the kitchen.

“I would bet money Yoongi’s out there right now, in front of his laptop with a mug of coffee poured and ready for you.”

You roll your eyes and brush him off although you know he’s probably right. He stops you before you can turn the door handle.

“Hey.” He holds both your hands in his. “Think about it? Really? Before work tries to take you away from me again?”

You nod. “I love you.” There’s nothing truer and your job has done nothing for you other than keep you busy. Still, you try to prepare him and smooth it over.

“You know, if I go, it’ll only be like, half the time. We’ll still have way more time together than we did before, especially if you’re not touring,” you offer, persuading him.

He shakes his head. “No. I want you here. Not sometimes. All the time.” His gaze gets sad. “Unless that’s not what you want.”

You try to reassure him. “You know that’s not true.” He nods but you see the doubt in his eyes. “So is that an ultimatum? Stay here or nothing?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He wraps his arms around your waist.

“Then, what are you saying?” Wrapping arms around his neck.

He takes a deep breath in. “I’m saying… I know it’s not what we expected but I love this, it feels right. I don’t want to move backwards.”

“I’m scared, Jungkook.” It’s the only way to describe the doubt that lingers in your mind.

“I don't know why. But being scared is ok. Just please, please think about it. Before you make a decision.”

The words are stuck in your throat.

You can’t because it means it’s real. It’s not just circumstances, casual or reversible. It’s real.

“I love you.” He kisses both of your hands and follows behind you into the kitchen.

Yoongi sits at the kitchen island on his laptop, as Jungkook predicted. He pushes a mug of prepared coffee for without a word, a morning ritual.

Jungkook gives you a knowing look while Yoongi continues work on his computer.

“Thank You.” You take a seat around the island.

Standing next to you, Jungkook mockingly asks Yoongi: “Will you pour me a cup of coffee, hyung?”

Yoongi senses his jest, stands and turns to retrieve a carton of banana milk from the fridge. He pours it into a coffee mug and slides it to Jungkook over the counter. You do your best not to laugh.

Jungkook smirks, checked by his elder. He sips from the mug, his eyes moving from you and back to Yoongi. Yoongi catches his glance. He knows. He feels it. It feels like a million things are being said in silence. Yoongi picks up his own coffee mug to refill it from the pot, a chance to turn his back to Jungkook.

The tension makes you wonder if they’ve ever spoken about the “crush” before. Or, worse, this morning. You know the walls are thin so, sure, he can hear you. But you wonder if Jungkook exaggerated the rest to get you off. Is that why it’s awkward?

“Jungkook, please get the pork belly from the freezer.” Yoongi directs Jungkook with his back still turned, a silent directive to drop it.

‘Is this for the recipe you’re trying today?” Jungkook finally lets up and changes the subject, heading to the freezer.

“Yeah, a little later.” He closes his laptop and stands. “I have a meeting. Are you heading to the studio?”

“Yep. Back soon.” Jungkook kisses you on the cheek and they both head separate ways.

You finish a cup of coffee and lounge around alone for a few hours, the house quiet with everybody doing their own thing in the large house. You read a few chapters from a book recommended by Namjoon and manage to take a short nap.

You imagine this is what it would be like if you stayed here. The empty house is peaceful. At least, for a few hours. It’s no trouble being alone and keeping busy but you know it’ll be more like being in hiding.

Management has always viewed you as a threat and distraction to all the members. There was not much they could do about you staying the last few months. Jungkook has some leverage now and they have to work around his wishes. As the relationship progresses, the way they already minimize and diminish you will get worse. How far can it even go when it has to be a secret? Staying here means a life of full gag order and anonymity.

You attempt to distract yourself from generating a long list of reasons to decline Jungkook’s proposal by strumming a few chords on the guitar.

When Yoongi re-emerges to the common area, you acknowledge him but continue playing.

“You’re getting pretty good at that thing.” He sits next to you on the couch.

“Thanks.” You lay the guitar beside you as this better distraction presents itself.

“May I?” He holds his hands out to receive the guitar.

You pass it over and you watch and listen as he strums much more pleasantly and skillfully. Bare-faced, messy hair and wearing clothes just to lounge around in but he looks good.

“So.” He starts as he strums between chords. “Are you unpacking your boxes or will you live out of them forever?” He asks as casually as possible.

“How do you know?” You question, nearly holding your breath.

“Walls are pretty thin,” he says, even and casual, still strumming softly.

You try to contain the redness coming over your chest and face, all of the things he may have heard this morning, circling in your mind.

You shamefully try to come up with something quick. “I’m still figuring out the details with work.” You nod unconvincingly.

“Yeah?” He says, surprised. “Jungkook is really excited about it.”

“I mean, management will throw a fit but-“ he shrugs his shoulders. We’ll back you up. They have to get through all seven of us before they can get to you. ”

You feel a pang of guilt hit your gut.

He changes the subject, sensing he’s hit a nerve. “Anyway...”

You blurt the first thing to come to mind. “So, you can hear through the walls?”

“I hear enough,” placing the guitar at his side, He looks down and stifles a giggle.

You nervously bite down on your lip. “Jungkook says I'm loud.”

He nods and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “That’s true.”

You both take a moment to snickers before you apologize. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, sounding genuine.

“What else did you hear this morning?” You ask, curious.

“Not much.” He leans back on the couch with his legs spread. You try to ignore how inviting his lap looks. “Just you being loud. He offers a teasing smile. “And some things about unpacking your boxes and…,” he trails off. “How you have a crush on me,” he finishes, nonchalantly.

You give him a playful shove and he raises both arms to block, laughing.

You wonder what else he heard. You can see the details he’s left out in his face, trying to be safe with this boundary.

“Is that what I heard?” His voice lowers as he tries to confirm.

“Yes,” you respond. “But that’s not why I spend time with you. I just like doing those things with you, being around you.”

A smile washes over his face. “I enjoy doing those things with you too. They’re just sometimes more fun because I have a crush on you too.”

You don’t respond but look down as the mood changes. His eyes lay on you differently. He has a different kind of confidence about him hearing you say it. You do too, knowing you’ve both said it out loud and Jungkook said it before anyone else.

The tension sits too heavy in the air but you let curiosity get the best of you anyway.

“When did you get off last?” You ask with a stern eye on him.

He laughs, deflecting. “Oh, is this what crushes talk about?”

You keep your gaze steady, awaiting an answer.

He lets out a defeated sigh. “Jungkook told you. How embarrassing.”

“So, this morning?” you immediately probe, unable to help yourself.

“And last night,” he contributes, shifting in his seat.

It’s a relief Jungkook had the wherewithal to whisper all that filth this morning. Also, that nothing was a secret. Jungkook is so great in that way. Acknowledging what is without being threatened and getting his ego bruised.

“So, obviously, I don’t mind that you’re loud.” His smile fades a bit and his gaze gets dark. “It’s sexy.”

Your stomach sinks. There are so many questions you want to ask but you don’t. How long? How often? What do you think about? Who do you think about?

He continues. “You like knowing that.” It starts as a question and ends as a statement. His eyes scan your face and you observe his own restraint.

It’s getting too deep. You should stop before this conversation escalates any further. The house feels too empty and too many ideas race in your mind. He takes the action before you.

“Are you ready to cook?” He asks, nearly leaping off the couch.

You both head to the kitchen and the tension settles as you get caught up in conversation about nothing-too-serious. Yoongi perfects a sauce while you load rice into a steamer. He tastes the sauce with his thumb and has a bland, questioning reaction.

“Is it good?” You try to read his face.

“I don’t know, try it.” He adds some spices and whisks further, lifting to check the consistency. You watch one strong arm whisk the mixture while the other holds the bowl still. His lips are pursed, concentrated. The sight of his arms and lips start to make your body hot.

You’ve seen him hundreds of times in the past 3 years. You’ve seen him everyday for 3 months. Still, It’s like looking at him for the first time.

This is all Jungkook’s fault. He put the idea in your mind.

Really, he activated something that was always there. You don’t know how he does it. He’s good like that too, excavating every emotion you have, never letting one be covered up or denied. You’d never realized how often you’d done that. He’s made you better, even before living together.

Nevertheless, your now crush is evolving to an ache, a craving right in front of your eyes. Yoongi is unaffected, focused on perfecting his cuisine. He’s messy, stray sauce everywhere.

He approaches where you stand by the counter, bowl in hand and you can smell him. It nearly knocks you off your feet when it fills your nostrils. Stray sauce is streaked on his forearm. You grab a nearby kitchen towel to swipe at his arm when he gets close, keeping your hands busy. They have too many ideas.

Maybe laying your hands on him (regardless of what they were doing) transfers your horny energy but your hands linger on him now and the dynamic shifts. He has that look again, lips parted, a million dirty thoughts flash across his mind in seconds. A big metal bowl is the only thing separating your bodies.

His eyes dart down from yours, guiding your own eyes to his lips, intrigued. He takes a deep breath and leans in closer, nearly hovering over you. He uses his thumb to briefly flick across your bottom lip. All the indecency in his eyes directed at your mouth. He places the bowl on the counter next to him, closing space between you.

“Try it.” He reaches down beside him and coats his thumb in the liquid. He slides the palm side of his thumb between your lips. You let them graze over but resist the urge to wrap your mouth around him.

You run your tongue over your lips to taste. “It’s good,” hardly audible.

The slight gesture causes the intensity to surge so greatly that you both seem to repel from each other. Yoongi returns to the other side of the kitchen and you both continue your tasks in silence, adrenaline still rushing, making it impossible to have a conversation.

Right on cue, Jungkook enters the silent heavy room.

“Hey.” you both say in unison, not even looking up at him.

“Hey.” He says, already sensing the put-on tones and not buying it for a single second.

“What have you been up to today?” He pecks your lips but keeps his eyes on Yoongi.

“I took a nap,” you offer, weakly. He nods suspiciously. Yoongi still has his back to him.

“How’s your recipe coming?” he asks, shooting daggers into the back of Yoongi’s head.

“Sauce is done,” you say, wishing Yoongi would speak for himself.

“Ok, What’s going on?” Jungkook finally demands.

You and Yoongi answer in unison. “Nothing,” sounding rehearsed.

“No, it's something.” His expression becomes uncharacteristically worried. “I know you’re flirting but right now, I feel like I'm interrupting something. I don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Yoongi cracks and turns around. “You’re right, it’s inappropriate.”

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “What’s inappropriate?” he digs.

Yoongi darts his eyes to you, mouth open but not speaking.

“What happened?” Jungkook’s voice gets louder.

You break next. “I ate sauce off his hand.” It comes out fast like one long word.

“Like, how?” looking puzzled.

“Like, off his thumb.” You extend your own thumb as if he doesn’t know what one is.

“When?”

“5 minutes ago.”

He slowly nods in comprehension. “So, you sucked on his finger. Then what?”

You fight the urge to correct him as you put such deliberate effort in NOT sucking. “Then, here we are.” You nervously tap your fingers on the countertop.

Jungkook is silent for a long time.

“Show me,” he announces.

“What?” Yoongi finally speaks again.

“Sounds harmless enough. Let me see.”

Yoongi pleads. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do this, it won’t happen again.”

“I'd feel better if I could see how ‘inappropriate’ it was.” Jungkook glares at Yoongi, wrestling to decide if he’s betrayed him or not.

There’s no getting out of it. You and Yoongi drag your feet to re-create your positions and he dips his thumb into the bowl just as before. You repeat the gesture, locking eyes with him for just a moment before his thumb touches your lips again.

Jungkook guffaws at the sight. “Did she do it like that?”.

“Yeah.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders.

Jungkook redirects his gaze at you. “You? Did it like that?”

You narrow your eyes at Jungkook. “Yes.”

You can’t tell if you should be offended or honored by his shock at your weak cleaning of his thumb. You opt to keep quiet.

Yoongi looks thoroughly confused. Jungkook chortles and approaches you both by the bowl.

“She can do better than that.” He pulls Yoongi's wrist into the bowl, isolating his index finger. He coats Yoongi’s finger and pushes it against your lips.

You take his finger and instinctively pull him in, down to the webbing of his hand. Jungkook lets his wrist free and Yoongi takes the liberty to push in again with 2 fingers and you suck them in and let them fall out slowly. His throat lets out a low groan through parted lips.

“That’s better,” Jungkook croons.

Jungkook guides you a few steps away to the living room so only you can hear. “Is there anything else I need to know about?” He asks with a forbidding look.

You reassure him with a hand on his chest. “No, Jungkook.” He nods and kisses your lips.

“Do you want to do this?”

You’re not sure what “this” is but the way he strokes his fingers along your crotch gives you an idea.

“We’re going to talk for a few minutes,” he starts, quickly glancing at Yoongi. “Get in the bedroom.” He tugs back at your hair with force, making you gasp. “When we get in there, I want you in one of your slutty outfits, waiting on the bed.” He kisses you hard and sloppy on the mouth before releasing his grip. Yoongi's eyes are nearly bulging out of his face.

You head to the bedroom as calmly as possible. When the door closes behind you, you begin a frenzy, digging through boxes for any matching pieces of lingerie. You manage to find a set, freshen up and wait on the bed. It’s been almost a half hour, you wonder what they’re talking about.

Yoongi follows behind Jungkook and closes the door. “There she is.” Yoongi looks a little nervous. The 2 stand in front of the bed.

“Lips stay below the neck, no kissing on the lips,” Jungkook announces. You and Yoongi nod at each other, his boner appearing through his pants at the sight of you. “Can he cum on your chest?”

Yoongi glances down shyly at the question. You nod again, heart pounding.

“Anything else?” directed at you now. You shake your head, still unable to form words. Jungkook leans down where you sit on the bed to kiss you. “Relax,” he whispers before his lips peck yours.

Jungkook’s easy breakdown of “rules” and the fact they’d talked so much about this already gives you an inkling about their past.

You speak so only Jungkook can hear. “Something tells me this isn’t your first time.” You glance back at Yoongi.

“Smart girl.” He kisses you again. “But this is different. We’re not sharing. He turns you on and I like it when you’re turned on. So. Relax. I wanna turn you on and get you off.”

Jungkook removes his clothes before crawling behind you on the bed and runs his hands over your body, groping in front of Yoongi as he watches, standing by the bed.

“Look how pretty you are for us.” He pulls you head back for a kiss and slides his hand under the hem of your panties, letting a finger slip between your folds. Your knees buckle.

“Mmm, She’s so wet for you already, hyung.” He pushes the fabric away and slips fingers in and out of your wet opening. Yoongi instinctively rubs himself on the outside of his pants, watching as Jungkook pulls his hand away and brings his fingers to your mouth. You don’t let our eyes leave his before directing Yoongi.

“Come here.” You scoot to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook sits behind you, rubbing your back as Yoongi approaches.

Yoongi’s eyes roll back immediately when you grasp at the bulge through his sweatpants and stroke beneath the fabric. He takes off his shirt while you pull down at the waistband of his pants and watch his cock fall free. Pale shaft with a swollen pink tip. Perfectly placed veins, just like his arms. You wrap your lips around the tip and let saliva drip down his shaft. He places an encouraging palm on the back of your head as you slide your lips to the base and gag, bringing moans from Yoongi. You wrap your hand around his shaft and work it with your mouth.

“Wait.” Jungkook places a hand on your shoulder. The sight has him eager for a place to keep his dick wet while you service Yoongi. He guides you to bend in front of him. Pushing panties aside, Jungkook slides in with ease, arousal pooled at your opening. You continue on Yoongi, running your tongue on the underside of his balls and licking up to the tip. Jungkook gropes at your ass and thrusts softly, careful not to disturb Yoongi. Then sensation causes you to moan around his cock and Yoongi eggs your head off, breathing away an orgasm.

Jungkook takes this opportunity to fuck you at a normal pace. After some time, Yoongi palms himself, watching. You relish in being a fantasy come to life.

You’re sore, being railed by Jungkook this morning and the night before. But that doesn’t stop you or him. He unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the bed. He pulls you up so your body is flush in front of him and exposed to Yoongi, who increases the pace he has on himself.

Jungkook pulls out while still holding you close. Yoongi slows and closes his eyes, teetering on the edge again.

The wet sticky panties cling to you.

“Your panties are ruined baby.” Sucking kisses on the line of your neck while the cold panties cling to you. “Lay down so we can get them off.”

Jungkook guides you to your back as Yoongi stands at the side of the bed, pulling you to the edge so you’re spread in front of him. Your head lays in Jungkook’s lap, he still faces Yoongi.

Yoongi palms at your center, feeling the crevices over wet fabric. It’s sticky and uncomfortable and you just want them gone. Jungkook strokes your head in his lap. Yoongi holds his cock between your clothed folds, watching your face as you twitch around him. He pushes the tip at the opening, blocked by the fabric.

He continues letting his tip run up and down until he eventually grips at the crotch of the fabric and pulls it up and taut against your clit. He rhythmically lifts and releases, your pelvis rising a little bit with each pull. He continues faster and you’re now grateful for the sticky fabric that offers friction until he stops and let’s it slap back to your skin, just before you come. He’s edging you with your own underwear.

He finally pulls them down and around your ankles, playfully tossing them at Jungkook sitting behind you. He slithers his tip around your bare entrance, teasing your opening and sliding up. Squelching fills the air.

You’re eager to get him all the way inside, pushing your core down each time he’s at your opening. You whine when he pulls his cock away completely and moves to kiss at your bare breasts. He lets his teeth graze over your skin, sucking. Jungkook uses his foot to push at Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Don’t mark her,” he warns. Yoongi heeds his warning and opts to leave the area completely. He lines himself up and bottoms out inside, wetting his entire shaft with you.

You moan louder and Jungkook tugs at your nipples. Yoongi bottoms out with each thrust.

“Are you gonna come just like this, Noona?” Yoongi teases, between thrusts as if you weren’t being turned on and teased for the last hour.

“I’d rather come on your lips,” letting your finger flick across his mouth.”

A little shock flashes across his face before Jungkook laughs. “Mmm, I love a good slut that asks for what she wants.” He praises as he strokes your hair.

Jungkook makes room for Yoongi to lay back on the bed again.

“I like this “crush” thing,” Yoongi says as you hover over top of him and he attaches his lips to you straight away. His arms are hooked around your thighs as he sucks and flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. He lets out deep little moans underneath you, happy to have you squirming and whimpering above him. You rock your hips back and forth on his face and the vibrations from his voice bring you so close again.

Jungkook lines up flush behind you. “I told him how good you taste, baby. And I know he loves hearing your pretty voice.” He slips his fingers under your bum to push fingers into your opening. Yoongi moves his mouth up just slightly to make room for him and you still. He continues, “Come for us, baby,” kissing your neck.

Yoongi squeezes at your breasts and He holds you down tight on his face when you come.

You’re shuddering above him still when he instructs you to bend over, guiding you off of him. Jungkook moves to sit at the opposite end of the bed.

You present yourself to him and instantly fall to your elbows when he licks a long strip from your opening all the way up to your tailbone. Jungkook giggles at your reaction.

“Do it again.” Jungkook orders. Yoongi does, and you’re so sensitive that your thighs shake. He moves to your opening and laps at this new angle, insatiable. Just as you begin to lose yourself on his tongue again, he lines up behind you and slams you on his cock. He fills you in a different way, hands on your hips as he slides your body over himself again and again.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment before positioning himself so he can gag you on his cock while Yoongi thrusts mercilessly, both taking everything they want from you.

Jungkook pulls your hair back to see your face. “Such a good slut, stuffed full at both ends.”

Yoongi grunts at the words. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You’re suddenly empty as they fumble to change positions. Jungkook instructs you to turn over and sit up on the edge of the bed.

Yoongi stands in front of you and ribbons white on your chest, grunting through his orgasm.

Jungkook pushes your back to the bed and runs his flat tongue over your messied chest, collecting cum in his mouth. He grips your jaw from above you, signaling to open and you readily obey. He purses his lips and lets the liquid fall into your mouth, laps up more and repeats all while strokes himself.

When your chest is clean, He climbs over you so his thighs straddle your face.

“Mmmmm… show him who my sweet cumslut is.” He praises before he throws his head back and groans, stroking himself into your open mouth.

You hold your mouth open while he spills into you, swallowing and licking your lips. You hold out your clean tongue and he spits from high up once more for good measure. Yoongi sits in your peripheral vision on a nearby chair. Spent cock resting between his legs, hands laced behind his head, taking in the sight.

“Good Girl,” Jungkook whispers.

The three of you sit up straight when you hear the screaming.

“Yoongiiii!!” Seokjin’s voice wails through the thin walls.

Yoongi puts on pants and nearly flies to the kitchen. You and Jungkook quickly dress and follow behind.

You walk into Seokjin scolding Yoongi about a pot boiling over and scorching on the stove.

“You could’ve set the house on fire!”

“I… I’m sorry I got distracted.”

“Doing what?!.” Seokjin’s fury fades when he notices Yoongi is shirtless and the 3 of you have triple fucked-out looks.

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” he announces, as he scrubs the burner.

Yoongi and Seokjin finish cooking and everyone sits for the meal. You’ve done this many times now, sitting around a table talking for hours. Sometimes everyone is up all night and you reluctantly agree to go to sleep. Other times, members slowly trickle away and wake up to the same remaining people talking. Oftentimes, it was you and Yoongi.

The plates are nearly clear when Taehyung declares: “Noona, I emptied our part of the closet downstairs so you have room for your things.

You glare at Jungkook.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t tell him to do that,” taking a final bite. Taehyung assumed.

“Actually, I’m going back to work,” blurting out, threatened by Taehyung’s (and everyone’s) assumption. “But, thank you.”

“You are?” Jungkook looks only half surprised.

“Yeah. I fly out to San Francisco next Thursday.”

Jungkook stands from the table and calmly walks to the bedroom. You politely excuse yourself and follow him. He’s not even looking at you yet but starts off before the door even shuts.

“So when I left this morning, you were thinking about it. You fuck my friend. Now, you’re leaving next week.”

You close your eyes and scoff. You can just imagine the six others just outside the door, darting eyes at each other, wondering which “friend”. It’s an unfair and irrelevant comment but you choose to ignore it, he has his own share of “unfair”.

“Jungkook, lower your voice.”

Ignoring you, “Did you even think about it?”

Blood heats under your skin. “Why think about it when everyone has just assumed? It’s like everyone gets a say but me.”

“And what’s your ‘say’?”

You pause before speaking, trying to calm yourself. “We both knew this arrangement was temporary. The way it was before was working for us.”

“It won’t work for me, not anymore.” “And this is not just an ‘arrangement’ anymore, you know that.”

“You know management does NOT want me around.”

“I don’t give a fuck WHAT they want. I’ve made it very clear that you’re not going anywhere. At least if it’s up to me.”

Your attempts to soothe yourself and convince Jungkook are failing. “So, what? I just hide out here, some house gremlin while you’re gone for weeks, months at a time? Having to be your dirty little secret? We can’t even be together in public.”

He glances down and gets closer to you. “That will be hard. I’m sorry. I wish I could change that.” His voice gets lower. “But when I’m gone…I mean, you’ve been cooking and writing and playing the guitar and you love that. You could do that. Or not. You could do whatever you want.” He stands firm. “If one of us is not bound by work, we’re officially together twice as much. Next?” He trudges forward, seeking to eliminate all of your ideas.

“I would have to move to a different country.”

“What about it? Tell me, where do you consider ‘home?’ and wherever you think that is, tell me why you chose to come here when you had to choose a place to be 3 months ago? The apartment is yours too. You could be here or there, whatever you want. What else can you come up with?”

You get sucked into his attempt to exhaust your excuses. “They offered me a raise to come back.” It sounds stupid coming out about half way through.

“Money?”, he laughs erratically, sounding unstable now. He pulls a billfold from his pants pocket and begins launching credit cards and different types of cash on the bed. “Here. Here. Here. And there’s more where that came from.”

“Ok, Jungkook,” you turn, agitated. He circles the bed to get face-to-face again.

“I’m just saying you have no excuse!” His voice gets somber and tears well in his eyes. The pain on his face makes you do the same. “So, why not then? Just tell me why. Because, when you’re here, the way you look at me, I know you feel the way I do. So why don’t you want to?”

You shake your head. “It’s not that I don’t want Jungkook. You just don’t know how things will turn out.”

He’s gripping your arms, trying to get his sense into you. “There is nothing that I'm worried about as long as you’re here. No matter what, it’s going to be fine.”

You coldly shake him off. “How do you know?!” You're yelling and crying now, really wanting to know where he gets his faith.

“I don’t know how anything will turn out, I just know that I want you there anyway!”

His face drops with realization.

His voice gets very quiet. “I guess that’s the difference between us.”

You’re too drained to argue that point. Maybe he’s right.

You make a final plea. “Please,” as you hiccup through sobs. “Can you just give me time to think about it? Instead of deciding for me?”

He pushes his forehead to yours. “I'm sorry I pressured you. I love you. It’s better when you’re here.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “There is no ultimatum here.” His forehead wrinkles. “Sometimes, I think if it’s something you really wanted, you wouldn’t have to think about it. But if time is what you want, take it.

“Thank you.” You hold onto each other like you might just slip away. Your sudden comfort is quickly snatched when he finishes.

“But if you’re not staying, you should go now.”

He squeezes you tight and whispers. “I love you.” Before you can reciprocate, he leaves and disappears into another part of the house. You haphazardly pack a bag and exit the bedroom, wiping tears from your face.

Yoongi approaches you as you head for the door, Seokjin following just behind. The others have gone after Jungkook.

“Noona, I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

You try to reassure him right away, hugging him. “Hey...it’s not you. This…” You search for the words to describe the situation, no fault on Yoongi. “This has been a long time coming.”

“Why are you leaving so soon?”

“It hurts Jungkook that I'm here so I need to go.” It sounds silly coming out of your mouth. If you just stayed, he wouldn’t be hurt. And neither would you.

“Do you need a car?” Seokjin asks. You nod he is on the phone right away.

You continue with Yoongi, “Could you send my boxes? I’ll have an address in a few days.”

“Of course.” He hugs you again. “Why do I feel like I’m never going to see you again?”

You don’t tell him that it feels that way to you too. “Would you just make sure he’s ok, please?”

He nods and with that you leave, severing ties with that safe little world.

[2kverrr]

TᕼE GᗩᗰE

Dana Ward x Female Reader

Summary: just realized how much i strayed away from the actual request. sorry. reader gets broken up with the night before the game.

Warnings: None?

Springtime, AKA the best time of the year. Not too hot, not too cold. The days are long and the evenings are short. The trees are in full bloom and the birds are chirping. Though everything may seem just fine and dandy, if I'm being real, my life's falling apart.

That's a bit dramatic, but spring's left me feeling pretty down. There's something about spring (as much as I love it) that makes me feel... empty. I've been restless, can't concentrate. Oh yeah, and to top it all off, just when I think everything is going smoothly my boyfriend breaks up with me, and now I have my coach up my ass for not showing up to training because I'm too busy trying to get over it.

It'd been on autopilot ever since we met, I don't think either of us ever had feelings for each other, we were just comfortable. There was never any effort put into the relationship, just two beings as a label. Now I think about it, it was inevitable. Our personalities just didn't mesh well. It's like trying to put a puzzle together with the pieces missing.

It's not that I'm happy without him, I feel like shit. I feel incomplete. Like something's missing. There's a springtime metaphor in there somewhere, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Several knocks on my door and the slam of its opening grabs my attention, Taylor stood at the doorframe, "You need to get a grip." She exhales with her hands irritatedly placed on her hips, noticing my tired state, cocooned in numerous blankets.

"Huh?"

"I said you need to get a grip, look at yourself." She bleats, pointing to the mirror facing my bed.

I glance at the mirror and see the tired reflection of someone who doesn't quite know what they want. There's a sadness that hangs around my eyes, like a storm cloud that's ready to unleash its fury.

Taylor walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, "I know you're hurting, but you have your priorities, and personally I don't see how important that douche could be.

I scoff, "I don't want to talk, Taylor. Let me sleep." I roll onto my face, letting my pillow almost suffocate me.

"Fine, but I'm coming back in a few hours to check on you, and by then you better be in kit. It" She stands up and walks out, leaving me to my thoughts.

I groan into my pillow, the mere thought of having to leave my room makes my head hurt. I can't even bring myself to leave my bed, let alone get dressed.

Eventually, I give in and crawl out of bed, tucking the blanket around me like a cape. I make my way over to my closet and begin to paw through its contents. It's a struggle to put together anything that remotely resembles clothing, but after a while of rummaging, I find a tank top and pair of running shorts.

I'm hesitant to leave my room, I don't want Taylor to see how terrible I look never mind the rest of Blackwell, but sooner or later I make my way out of the dormitories. The campus is already bustling with students, the odd few stop what they were doing to look over in my direction. I'm sure Zachary made it his first mission to tell his little football bros about our row.

I spend my day walking around Arcadia rather than showing up to today's lessons. I'm simply too exhausted to care. I find myself at Arcadia's lighthouse, sitting on the bench facing the west sea, not really thinking or paying attention to anything.

Eventually, my stomach grumbles and I realize that I haven't eaten anything since yesterday. I'm so tempted to go back to my dorm and curl up in a ball on my bed, but I steel myself and head towards the nearest place that serves half-decent food.

The diner wasn't too busy, the regulars sat at their usual seats, strangers stopping by for a quick brunch and the odd few Blackwell cheerleaders making use of their free period. The familiar smell of coffee and grease filling the air somewhat comforting.

I take a seat at the counter, waiting for a waitress to serve me. I feel a vibration from my pocket, I pull out my phone, seeing a message off of Taylor.

Taylor: u better be off your ass by 2. your coming to the game even if i have to drag you by your hair

I humorously scoff at the message from the blonde, rolling my eyes. I know she's just trying to make me feel better, but really I just want to crawl under a rock and die.

Y/n: you're*

I type back with a cheeky grin on my face. I'd completely forgotten about the game tonight, mainly because everybody's talking about the bigfoot's game, Logan this, Zachary that. Blackwell's internal misogyny always irked me, this year the female soccer team was given a fifth of what the boys' football team was funded. I doubt the team will barely have an audience to play for.

Taylor: nice to see YOU'RE keeping up with your english classes

Soon enough, Joyce leans across the counter, "Long time no see, Y/n." She smiles, dragging my attention away from my phone.

"Hey, Joyce." I smile, returning the gesture.

"What can I get you?" Joyce asks, pen and paper in hand.

I scan my eyes over the menu one last time before responding, "Belgium waffle and a coffee please, Joyce."

She scribbles her blue pen on the small notepad in her hand, "Coming right up.", before wandering off to serve another customer.

I lean back on the stool I'm sitting on, exhaling deeply as I do so. I bring my arms behind my head to let them stretch while turning my head to the left. To my surprise, I'm met with another pair of eyes gazing back at me. Girl from Blackwell, I know that for sure, she's in the dormitories. Danielle? Daisy? Dana. That's it. We've not spoken much, not that I can remember.

I remember the two of us are still staring at each other, I maintain it, thinking it'd be awkward if I just suddenly stopped looking back at her. Though as soon as the thought passes, she breaks the gaze, turning back to the chatter she'd been included in with her cheer friends. I can't help but feel a bit disappointed, maybe I was expecting something more from her? God knows.

I shake it off and focus my attention on Joyce placing my coffee on the counter in front of me. I pick it up, taking a sip before setting it back down, muttering a small "thank you".

"So, Y/n. Heard there's a game tonight." Joyce smiles, crossing her arms.

I sigh, "Yeah, go bigfoots." Unenthusiastically pumping a fist into the air.

"No, silly. Your game. My daughter, Chloe, had mentioned something about it." The waitress unintentionally reminded me.

"Oh, right." I smile, raising my eyebrows.

"Anyway, good luck for tonight, your food shouldn't be long." She winks, once again wandering off behind the counter.

I huff and let my shoulders deflate, taking a sip of coffee from the white mug placed in front of me. I place the mug to my lips, letting the bitter liquid run into my mouth. The sharp taste putting any worries or fears to sleep. I'm in caffeine heaven until a voice beside me speaks up.

"What're you doing here?" The soft voice speaks, making me slightly choke on the liquid in my mouth.

I clear my throat, "Uh, I got hungry." I respond, the sentence coming out more like a question rather than an answer. I shift my shoulders so I could face the girl I'd been looking at previously.

"All on your lonesome?" Dana's head tilts slightly, a playful smile set on her face.

I don't bother answering the question, as it seems pretty obvious. "What're you doing here?" I respond, crossing my arms.

"Same thing as you, I guess." She shrugs, her smile fading a little. She pulls out the seat next to me and takes a seat. We sit in silence for a few moments before Dana speaks up again"You okay?" She asks, her voice gentle.

I nod, "Yeah, of course." I lie, though the truth is I'm anything but.

She sighs, "We've not spoken much have we? How come?"

I chuckle at her silly question, "Don't ask me that." She hums in return, a hand coming up to her ear to play with an earring hooked into her earlobe.

"You seem down, why?"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you." I think out loud accidentally, "Sorry, that sounded rude."

Dana shrugs, a smile still remaining on her face after my (kind of) harsh words. I let my eyes wander over her soft features as I take another sip of coffee, her brown hair mindlessly twirled between slender fingers. I can't help but feel a warmth in my chest, one I'm not used to.

"So..." She drags, breaking the silence I'd created, "How about your game tonight?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Doubt I'll be there." I'm quite taken aback by the question, who would've thought Blackwell's cheerleaders, the Bigfoot's number 1's, would've acknowledged mine?

She playfully punches my shoulder, "Hey, you're the captain, you've gotta be there."

I sigh, not wanting to expand on the subject, "Are you cheering tonight?" I ask, knowing the answer but still attempting to sound interested.

"Yep, the crowd's gonna be wild tonight." She cheers, but her smile soon fades when she notices the sad glint in my eyes. I'm happy that people are excited about the guys' game, but the mind works in funny ways, and all of a sudden I hate that people are excited. It's the same over and over again, little boys getting thrashed by another team and then getting upset over it later on. If any of the other teams got half the attention, they'd actually give people something to be excited about without the lingering feeling of inevitable disappointment of what was to come.

"Here you go, Y/n." The familiar voice calls and a plate is pushed in front of me.

"Thank you, Joyce." I smile.

Dana places a hand on my shoulder, "I'll see you later, Y/n." She grins before returning to her fellow cheerleaders.

Once I'm finished with my food, I pay Joyce and make my leave. Though I feel a set of eyes on me as I walk out of the small diner. I ignore it, blaming it on my conscience. I'm too lost in my own thoughts and feelings.

I sit on the edge of my bed for a while once I'm back in my room, contemplating what to do. I don't want to go to the game tonight, but I also don't want to be alone. I sigh, slipping off my clothes and climbing into bed. I pull the blankets up to my chest, wishing I could disappear. I know it's childish, but I can't help it.

Taylor made sure I was alive, as per usual. She came and gave a pep talk, totally uncalled for.

Finally giving in, I slip on my red shorts and shirt, making sure my captain's band sat just how I liked it on my left arm. I carry my boots outside of the dormitories along with my shin-pads and everything else necessary in a bag resting on my back.

I step outside, breathing in the fresh air, letting it soak out any worries, and hoping it lends me some sort of superstitious good luck.

With the newfound peace given by the fresh air, I take a seat on a bench, rolling down my socks, and slipping on my shin-pads, fastening the straps when I feel a tap on my shoulder, a very familiar, aggressive, irritating tap (more of a prod). "Took you long enough," Taylor scoffs, ", come on, Y/n/n."

I playfully glare at her, but get up, silently following her as she strides down Blackwell's concrete. We make our way to the pitch, the silence oddly loud. Once we finally arrive on the ground, much to my expectation, a row is barely filled up on the stands.

I greet the girls, and I'm met with many "Where've you been?" and "Back from the dead!", which I can't say I wasn't expecting and dreading.

I notice the stands start to fill up more and more as I begin to warm up the girls, it caught me by surprise a bit but I don't take any notice of it.

I'm called over by the referee along with the opposition's captain, we sort out the centre-kick before we're both sent back to our coaches.

"Right girls, I couldn't care less whether we win or lose, but try to win... okay?" Our coach attempts a speech but fails miserably.

"Really inspirational, Coach!" Taylor laughs whilst running to her position on the right wing.

The environment quietens down while we wait for the ref's whistle, and then the game starts.

The ball is passed back to me and all of a sudden I'm in reality. Two coming in from the right and one from the left, I drag the ball to the left then through the three as a whole through to another mid-fielder. The game goes on and we're 2-1 up within 42 minutes. By now the stands are almost filled and I notice a few familiar red figures running to the sidelines.

I make use of the time the ref is spending on making an offside decision to look at the figures. Noticing the girl, Dana, I'd been speaking to earlier on in the diner. Her and her cheerleaders' routine awfully similar to that of the routine for the Bigfoot's.

It's a massive confidence boost when she shoots me a wave and a smile, and if I saw correctly... a wink?

Only 2 minutes before halftime, you could tell our team was trying to get a last-minute goal. Taylor runs the line with the ball, a player right on her back. Another player, Rachel, takes the ball off of her, continuing the route the blonde had begun.

Rachel crosses the ball over to me, giving her time to run into the 18-yard box, I give the ball back to her, seeing no players had marked her, but instead of shooting she passes it right in front of me. I sprint to the ball, sliding on the ground in hope to get there before any of the opposition, the ball jumping right over the goalkeeper.

Cheers roar from the crowd, and as much I'm loving it, I'm not exactly enjoying the two players fallen over on top of me. I manage to roll out of the trap, and I'm immediately met with Taylor smiling at my side, "Though you got rusty for a moment." She jokes, patting me on the back.

Halftime finally comes around, Coach congratulates us all and the girls have a couple of minutes to chat amongst themselves.

The next half flies by, it was as if every single trouble that weighed my shoulders down had been lifted. It felt good to be doing the one thing I love to do. The score ended up a 5-2 win. And the team and I were ecstatic, the crowd's reaction only adding to the mix and increasing every level of happiness.

I find myself separated from the rest of the team, celebrating our win in my own way, and yes, that may be on my own in the changing room, but at least I'm celebrating. I told Taylor and Rachel I'd meet them later, but I'm not too sure how long 'later' will be.

"Hey, you played amazing."

My ears prick up at the familiar voice, Dana in her red cheerleading uniform stalking around the corner, "Thank you."

"How was the Bigfoots' game?" I question, slightly curious as to how she managed to cheer for both teams at the same time.

"I'm not too sure..." She smirks, "I wasn't there."

I sigh, placing my bottle of water to the side of me, "Dana," I smile, ", thank you so much."

The girl furrows her eyebrows, "What do you mean?" She asks, knowing exactly why I was thanking her.

"You know," I roll my eyes, ", you were meant to be cheering the guys tonight, yet you cheer for us and you bring the crowd with you. It was just what the girls needed, I don't know how I could possibly thank you."

"Um, no problem," Dana blushes, ", though, there is one way you could thank me, on behalf of the whole squad."

"What's that?" I tilt my head, wondering what she has in mind.

She takes a step closer to me, her eyes locking with mine, "Kiss me."

My eyes widen, and I'm momentarily lost for words. All I can do is stare at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She takes this opportunity to lean in closer, her lips pressing against mine. My initial shock quickly turns into something else, something much more intense. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer, not wanting to let go.

When the two of us separate, none of us speaks, we simply just stare for what feels like hours.

Dana chuckles, "I've been wanting to do that for a while.", her hand softly resting on my upper arm.

My cheeks heat up at the statement, and all of a sudden I'm unable to form words, "Wow." I say, causing the girl to giggle.

"Come on, let's go."

Back to that whole metaphor about spring or whatever, yeah, I don't think there ever was one. I think I was just trying to blame my self-pity on something. Life had dealt me a pretty crappy hand, but it wasn't the end of the world. And as long as I had the opportunity for new beginnings, Dana, for example, that was all that really mattered.

[sp00kworm]

Black Oak (Part 2)

Pairing: Alcott Glyn (Headless Horseman) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Body Horror, Murder

PART 1 

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The police arrived about an hour after you had woke-up the whole village screaming. Peswick was far away from the nearest city’s response, and you sat shivering, wrapped in a blanket from the house, clutching it close as Mrs Shaw rushed to bring you a hot drink. She and her husband were dressed, but neither went into your house. They rushed back home, bringing you a cup of tea from their own kitchen along with a foil blanket for the shock. You weren’t allowed to touch the body, and you tried to ignore the swinging noise of the corpse as you sat perched on the front doorstep to your home, sniffling into the cup of tea. The police took off their hats as they stepped past your gate, and you watched as the crime scene investigation and forensic van pulled up behind them. The two officers nodded at Mr and Mrs Shaw before smiling as best they could.

“Would you like to come with us, please?” The male officer asked gently, “Lets go inside and we’ll get your statement of events, okay?” The female officer with him looked back at the tree and swallowed hard as Forensics suited up to remove the body and take evidence.

“Come on, Sully.” He ushered his companion as he helped you to your feet and nodded to your neighbours. He whistled and smiled as he opened the door for you, “Nice old place you’ve got here.” He complimented kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with crows’ feet, “Mrs Finch used to live here. Are you a relative?”

 You shook as the officer led you gently into the front room, “It…She was my aunty, distantly.” You whispered as you eased yourself back onto the sofa, clutching the lukewarm tea tightly, as though it was a lifeline in your grasp.

“She was a kind woman. Made a lot of oils out of her garden, but she had nothing but trouble and vandalism with this place. Kids used to make a mess of the sides of the house regularly.” He tipped his head to the wall where the fireplace was, “It was always on the chimney. She never did anything, but the kids called her a witch and all that trollop.” He shook his head.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.” Sue gave him a lopsided smile as she pulled out the clipboards full of paperwork to be completed.

“Ah, so I haven’t!” The officer dipped his head, “I’m Officer Perks.” He pointed to the blond woman with him, “And this is my partner Officer Sullivan.”

You nodded shakily licked your lips, “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I know...Its far.” A breathy sigh left you as Sullivan took out her pens from her vest and smiled.

“We just need an account of what you did this morning and if you knew the victim.” Percy offered as he sat on your couch, “Spare no details. Even something small to you might be important to us.”

 Conflict burned in your throat and gut as you thought about what had happened, “I don’t remember anything of relevance from last night. I spent the night in bed. I’ve only just moved in, so I was exhausted.” You took a shuddering breath and continued, “I went out this morning to the tree and…and I looked up… and he was hanging there, without his head.” You looked into the tea in your hands, noting that it was now ice cold.

“How long have you been here?” Sullivan asked as she shorthand filled in the details on the paperwork, “You said you moved in recently?” Perks looked from the paper to you and smiled reassuringly.

“I moved in yesterday afternoon.” You whispered and Sullivan gave you a pitying look.

Perks shifted against the cushions, “Did you have anyone with a grudge against you or motive from where you used to live?” He asked.

“No one that I know of.” You answered as you put down the cup of tea, fighting the tears and upset.

“Okay so what time did you find the body?” Perks asked. You took a deep sigh and continued to answer the police officer’s questions well into the afternoon.

 Perks and Sullivan could drink their weight in tea, it turned out, and you offered them many drinks over the course of the few hours. They had a couple each, pens scratching papers as they took notes and an official account of the events for the records. You looked out of the window as Sue and Percy signed the bottom of the page. Crime Scene Investigations were hoisting the body down from the thick black branch of the oak, working to preserve the noose he was swinging by. Three people held the corpse up as they cut the rope carefully, keeping the knot intact and bagging the rope before they got the body down into the bag on the stretcher.

“He’ll need to go to pathology to determine cause of death…though I think I have a pretty good idea.” Sullivan whispered, trying not to be heard as she eyed you sat across from them. Perks rolled his eyes and elbowed his colleague.

“Here. Let me draw the curtains.” Perks stood and reached for the curtains before drawing them over the forensics team dragging the body into the bag, impassive to the blood that stained their tunics and gloves.

“I think we have everything.” Sullivan announced as she stood up and took hold of both their mugs, “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.” She offered with a small, pathetic smile.

 Perks nodded his head as Sullivan as she left towards the kitchen. You heard her bang the cup on the countertop before you tugged the blanket closer and shifted uncomfortably.

“Thank you for your cooperation today.” Perks took his hat and tucked it under his arm, “I know these kinds of cases are very difficult to talk about. I have this card for you.” He held you out a green printed business card, “That’s the helpline for a couple of organisations and the other side has someone you can seek out if you would like some help talking through all this.”

You looked at the numbers vaguely before nodding and placing the card on the coffee table, “Thank you.” You replied quietly before Perks replaced his hat on his head.

“We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you once again and good afternoon.” He looked at his watch before he opened the lounge door and quietly exited.

Sue scoffed at him in the hall, “Come on. We’ve got these reports to write up.”

“Coming, coming.” Perks grumbled, “Nothing wrong with being nice. They just witnessed a damn corpse…” The voices trailed off as the front door closed behind the two of them with a bang.

 Silence.

 You looked to the curtains and stood up, letting the blankets finally fall from your shoulders as you fisted each side of the heavy curtains. They were old and embroidered with curling leaves. You tugged them open with a heave and watched the police vans trundle away back down the old stone roads, back towards the hills where they had come from this morning. With a deep breath, you tied the curtains back before taking one last long look at the gnarled, black oak in the garden, and heading towards the stairs for a shower and to get dressed. You hoped that a shower would wash away the sticky feeling of malaise on your skin and mind. Hot water usually purged bad thoughts, or so you hoped as you tried to erase the memory of the swinging corpse from the shrivelled branches of the old oak tree.

 You shivered through the house after your shower, wrapped in a jumper and heavy jeans as you tried to navigate the halls without looking out into the garden. The memory of the body lingered with the burning feeling of the heavy box in the other room, filled with an old skull. It was a skull inside. A perfectly preserved ivory skull. The teeth were yellow with age on the enamel, and you looked to the table where the muddy box sat with the key in the lock. The headless creature had moaned and groaned as its head screamed from the other room. You turned and looked at the ornate metal decorations before daring to turn the key again. The lid popped open and flew back to reveal the skull again.

 It sat perfectly still on the cushion, staring at you with empty eyes. With a deep breath, you dared to reach out and touch the skulls surface. It didn’t move. No magical energies tore out of the eye holes. It was perfectly still. It was just a skull. But the memory of it screaming and cursing inside the box was burned into your memory and you carefully picked the skull up, cushioning the bottom of its jaw before your strokes over the place where the eyebrows had once been when it was a man. It had to belong to the headless horseman, but why your aunt had it locked away in her home was another question entirely. You held the skull up to your eyes and peered into the bone of the eye sockets as you pondered your decision. There was a glimmer of gold inside the mouth which caught your eyes, and you dared to open the jaw wide enough to snatch at the shiny object. It was a single heavy golden coin which had been wedge between the back teeth. You looked at the old print and then quickly replaced it, wedging the jaw back shut as you placed the skull away on its pillow.

 It sat and stared at you, and you stared at it, wondering what happened last night as you clutched at your head and sighed. You slammed the lid closed and snapped the lock closed before you placed the box in the centre of the table.

“What the fuck were you up to aunty?” You asked the air as you rushed to the kitchen to make yourself another drink. As you set the water to boil you continued to curse, thinking about the headless man who what invaded your home chasing the poor man who had ended up hanging from the tree in your front yard. The head had screamed ‘witch’ from its confines, but you had no knowledge about what it could mean. You took the hot water and made a drink before looking at the last few boxes of unpacking and scoffing, deciding that the day would be better spent researching what had slaughtered the man and hung him from your tree.

 The village library was barely a few bookshelves put together and you sighed looking at the poor collection of books before you dated to approach the old librarian sat next to the desk. She had her own book open, some trashy romance novel set in the Victorian era, and she looked engrossed as she flipped the page and took another bite of her current tea cake.

“Hello?” You asked quietly in front of her.

The librarian jumped in her seat before she clutched at her chest and adjusted her glasses, “Dearie me! You scared the soul right out of me, love.” she took a moment to take a breath and close her book before she stood with a small wince and smiled, “What can I do for you?”

You could see the questions burning in her eyes. She no doubt knew you were the new person in town, and about what had happened at your home.

“I’m looking for some history books about the town. I wanted to try and get to know the place, but I don’t think there’s anything on the shelves.”

Her face pursed a little before she smiled again and pointed to the last one of the small walls of shelves, “There isn’t a lot but there’s a couple of books on the bottom shelf of the end one. For the records and such I’m afraid you will have to ask at the village hall. Rose keeps them in good nick there, lovely woman she is.”

“Ah, thank you.” You returned her smile and left her to her book as you went to the last set of shelves in the wall and started to rummage through the folklore and history books.

 There wasn’t a lot, she was right, and you sighed after about twenty minutes of pulling out books. You tugged the last, thick history book from the shelf and dusted the cover to reveal a history of the local mines and hills. It wasn’t what you were looking for. You peered at the shelf again and huffed before there was a glimmer of silver lining at the back of the bookcase. You squirmed your hand to the back and plucked the small book from behind the tattered paperbacks. It was a pocketbook, stencilled with an old name in cursive, faded and marred with cage.

‘Maria Theresa Glyn’

You dusted the front and followed the name before looking around and tucking the book into your bag. You felt bad just taking it, but obviously the Librarian had no idea it was there, and the name was familiar to you. You remembered the coat of arms on the old teapot. If this was the diary of someone with the same name it might have clues, or so you reasoned as you plucked a few books from the shelf and took them to the counter after replacing the rest.

 “Did you find what you were looking for, pet?” The librarian asked as you placed the books on the counter. She smiled and pulled out an old paper ticket to write your name onto. She poised the pen over the paper, and you told her your name before she copied it onto another for you and jotted the book codes down. She tutted at the date stamper and fiddled with it to get it to the correct date. Obviously not many people used the library.

“Yes, I found a few interesting things to have a flick through.” You told her as she stamped the tickets inside the books and stacked them in front of you.

“Well, you have fun...and be careful, huh? There’s a lot of weird and wonderful things that go on around here. It would be a shame if you forgot that, and something happened.” She smiled sweetly, but it sent shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. I’ll try.” You smiled awkwardly back at her before you took your arm full of books and made a quick exit back into the chilly air.

 The village seemed to watch you as you wove between the avenue of trees, crunching autumn orange and brown leaves underfoot. The chill in the air mimicked their icy feelings. You were the outsider among them, and soon enough they’d come to hound you out of their home. You only hoped to solve what you had seen. There was no way a headless man was riding around taking heads...right? You tried to console yourself as you made it to your home, and past the gnarled black tree in the front garden. It was twisted and old, and the branches seemed to creak as a greeting on your return. A glare silenced it, or so it seemed, perhaps it was just the wind dying, but the tree went silent as you walked up to the door with your keys in hand. The door swung open when you unlocked it and you clutched at your books as the wind howled into the mouth of the house, screaming down the hall like a ghost before you kicked the front door shut, shivering. The old back boiler chugged in the background as you kicked off your boots and placed the books in the lounge on the small table by the chest.

 When the chest remained still and silent you left to place away your bags and get a drink. You returned, rubbing your eyes as you opened the little journal you had found. It was penned with ink and quill, that much was obvious, and you ran your fingers over the woman’s name again before you touched the crest and went to find the teapot. You grabbed the porcelain handle and placed the two together over your lap. They were the same. The Glyn coat of arms. You placed the teapot down and opened the diary to look at the first passage. It was dated back three centuries ago, back when the alliance was beginning to form between the different races, monsters and humans alike, though you could tell this village hadn’t had such luxury. The entire populace was human, apart from the dairy farmers four miles outside the walls of the village. They were large goblins of some kind, cave dwelling and gangly limbed from years in the dark, but you had only seen them.

 The first passage was written in neat, printed cursive, echoing the care the woman had taken to write her feelings and events down.

‘Today is the day of my birth. My birthday rather. I was given this journal by the kind Mister Glynn, as a gift, and so I find myself beginning to write down the events of my daily life, so perhaps I can look back on it and reminisce when I am old and grey.

 Mister Glyn is a kind soul. He is part of the King’s Royal Entourage and the Commander of a large cavalry unit. Why he is in this small village is unknown to us all, but my father suspects it is because of the Wood Witch. Perhaps he has been tasked with taking her head? It is rumoured the armour he has is enchanted against such magic, but I feel as though those are rumours made about a dangerous and powerful man to excite fear.

 He is nothing but polite to me. I suppose my father will want to marry me off to this one as well.’

 The passages were perhaps a couple of pages maximum, and you flicked through the dates quickly, watching her words change from cold and indifferent to soft and loving of the man see always called Mister Glyn. It wasn’t until a year later in the diary that you saw his true name.

 ‘Alcott escorted me to the capital atop Mallor, his beast of a horse, though the creature seems to like me now that I bring him sugar lumps. Alcott wished to show me the city and its fruits though there is rather less fruit and more muck and grime. I am used to mud on my shoes, but I despised the odour of the place, much to his amusement. As I write, I can hear him snickering at me across the table.’

 There was a few blotches of ink and another set of handwriting.

 ‘She stood in a man’s excrement.’

 Their trip seemed peaceful, and Maria even attended a gathering at court. It seemed well until you found the final page in the diary, written across a page in shaky ink.

 ‘They took his head.’

 There was no fond farewell at the bottom of the page or a cursive signature. It was stark and naked on the yellowed paper, like a bad omen forever preserved. You ran your fingers over the words before you flicked through the last pages seeing nothing but blood splodges and blackened dark blood at the corners. It smelt faintly of rot, and you recoiled from the smell as you looked at the empty bare pages. The back of the book was burned across the inside of the cover. It was mysterious but it seemed like Alcott Glyn had been killed. But by who? You had no idea but as you looked at the chest again and thought of the head inside you shuddered.

 Alcott Glyn. There had to be a grave. You tugged your bag open and stuffed the book inside before you rushed out of the door, locking it quickly as you rushed towards the little church. It was at the top of the hill, sat in a mound of earth, subsiding on one side with props and scaffolding to try and hold it up. It wasn’t used anymore, the town hall was used to any religious needs, but it was haunting. The stained glass was dirty, and the front doors bolted and chained to prevent anyone entering. You rushed around the side of the church and looked at the dates on the graves and the dates in the diary. It had to be the 1700s. You thought back to your history lessons and tried to recall the date of the alliance war. 1774. You rushed around the small paths and glanced at the years, 1770, 1772, 1773... you looked at the gap where the 1774 stone should have stood. There was nothing, just unchurned earth and a set of roses growing from the floor. A troubling feeling settled in your gut as you meandered down the path to the back of the overgrown graveyard. There were old stones, crumbling and forgotten under blackberry vines and leaves. It was chance that you leaned down next to a short stone and looked at the faded name.

 Alcott Glyn.  

 The name was chipped and faded, like the memory of the man. Vines grew in wild abandon over the grave, and the blackberry vines had taken over the base, winding around the whole stone with wide dying leaves. It was perfectly hidden and forgotten about. The village’s little secret in the secluded corner of the graveyard, forgotten and buried. Or apparently, not buried completely. The earth was turned over, like something had ruptured from the ground and burst free. It was a long patch of upturned soil, as long as you were tall, or even longer, and the earth and stones were wet, fresh with the rain from the evening and being upturned, as though someone had run a plower through it.  Carefully, you ran your fingers through the earth, feeling the soil between your fingers before you took a steadying breath.

“Someone came out of this…” You breathed into the chilly air, your breath making mist with the cold as you stood and looked over the grave. You said it again before turning and bolting from the graveyard before the night could fall over the village.

 When you reached home, you threw your bag onto the couch and grabbed the chest, prising the lock open to peer at the skull inside. It was sat, still as a statue, on the cushion, with the glimmer of gold between its jaws. You lifted it from the cushion, carefully, pulling it up to your face level as the sun set over the horizon, bathing you in a golden glow with the skull clasped between your hands. There was nothing but the distant hum of the hot water pipes in the old house to answer your stare. The skull did nothing. It sat in your hands as the sunlight died over the horizon and the night began to settle in. In your gut, disappointment settled with the cold reminder that you were holding a dead man’s skull. A real human skull. Carefully, you placed it back down on the cushion and sighed as you went to draw the curtains, ignoring the creaking of the gnarled oak tree outside your door.

 The wind blew as you looked back at the head in the chest, positioned slightly skewed on the cushion. You chewed your lip and sighed before you stood over it again.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered to the skull. Nothing. The old electrics flickered for a moment, dimming before they brightened again. Silence, except for the hum of the back boiler. The breath you had been holding escaped and you turned away with a grumble before the lights surged bright and yellow, like the sun, before the bulbs exploded in a sudden thunder of noise. Glass shattered and flew across the carpet in a shower, and you gasped, covering your ears before you looked back at the cushion.

 The head was sat, jaw agape, with two lights in the blackened sockets, rolling side to side. The little lights rolled like stoned before they settled on you and the open jaw began to jitter, chattering the yellowed teeth together loudly. The skull didn’t move, just snapped it’s teeth like a scared dog before it stopped, and the eyes dimmed. It was only a moment of silence before there were three heavy pounds on your door. With a gasp you rushed to draw the curtains, and gazed upon the creature stood on your doorstep, his steed kicking and throwing it’s head by the twisted roots of the black tree. The body stood there, breathing, its undead chest moving as though it needed the air.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered again with a dry mouth. All the moisture dried up from you and you tried not to shake as the skull slammed against the side of the box, it’s eyes glowing.

It shook and chattered its teeth before a voice screamed from between the open jaw, “Let me in, witch!”

Fear twisted your guts as you rushed to slam the chest shut on the screaming skull. It chanted inside the decorative metal, hollering about burning you at the stake before you took it to the front door. The horseman slammed his fist on the door again, repeatedly, as though he was going to tear it open, and you shivered as your fingers shook by the latch and keys.

 The horseman began to bang repeatedly and the head in the chest slammed around, shaking your arms as you struggled to keep hold of it. You took a stuttering breath and unlatched the door, turning the keys before you wrenched it open. The headless horseman heaved puffs of misty breath up from the stump of his neck, his trachea flexing with the movement as the nerves of his spinal cord twitched and thrummed behind it, imitating life in his corpse body.

“Witch!” the skull screamed again, his head you realised as you stepped back, and the creature followed. His boots left muddy smeared marks on the wooden floors, and you looked down to see the crushed blackberries over the soles. Your heart pounded as you realised, he had crawled from the grave you had sat by earlier.

“I saw you by my grave. I will not do business with you again.” His voice came from his body this time, contorted and dark as it leaked from his lungs like a wisp.

“Business? What business have you?” You asked, voice shaking with fear.

The skull laughed in its box, a malicious and evil noise, dark and tempting, as though you were truly stupid for asking, “What business did we not have? Have you forgotten in your age, crone? Death and blood, that’s what you wanted, and I delivered it.”

“Who did you have the deal with?” You steeled yourself.

“You, you pathetic soothsayer.” He droned before his dead fist slammed the door closed, “Now give me my head. Our bargain is met.”

“I am not my aunty.” You tried, “I have no deal with you.”

 The horseman stopped, his body stiffening as his horse brayed and screamed outside, kicking its hooves at the black oak with a great smash. The tree shook, shedding twigs, but didn’t fall. He stalked closer, the bulk of his frame blocking out the light from the moon and the electric fitting overhead.

“But you have my head.” The skull whispered from inside the box before he grabbed for the chest. He touched the metal of the latch and screamed, the noise escaping the corpse before you and the skull inside the box. It was an ear piercing, unholy noise which burned your ears and made your head swim in agony. The horseman clutched at his chest and the stump of his neck, his gloved fingers pressing into the gored wound of his neck as he wobbled towards the wall and grasped at it for balance.

 “Fuck.” You cursed before you whipped the chest open and grabbed his skull by its eye sockets, hanging it over him as he slid down the wall and screamed again in agony, twitching against the wood.

“If I give you your head, horseman, will you indebt yourself to me? Your previous contract will be null, and you will only serve me.” You announced.

The horseman writhed before going deathly still. He laid like a corpse for a moment or two before shakily he braced his arm against the floor and pushed himself up. With a shudder he got onto his knees and kneeled before you, his neck dipped to expose the sore, congealed wound of his decapitation.

“I... I will serve.” The horseman gurgled.

“Then I give you your head to end your torment, Alcott Glyn.” You promised before you held his skull between your palms and lowered it to the spinal column of his body.

 There was a great groan as the spine extended from Alcott’s body and snapped to the skull, holding it in place as the eyes burned bright with purple light, the colour of blackberries, rolling in his skull as he reached and clasped at the bone, howling as light burned from the base of his neck and enveloped his skull with a whoosh of purple fire. The fire abated quickly as the moonlight disappeared behind the curtains and the skull shimmered as muscle and tendons swarmed the bone, linking and covering the surface before the he howled, and skin crept from his neck to his face, covering the surface in a perfect alabaster coating. His eyes however, remained voids of black, the centres beautiful blackberry lights in the dimness of your home. Black waves of hair grew from his head, dripping over his shoulders like ink as he howled, leaned against the old wallpaper. They finished growing with a crackle of fire, purple flames licking at the ends before it disappeared, leaving a heaving, black eyed creature curled against the wooden floor.

 Your mouth hung open as you watched the horseman shake against the wood, heaving as he reached to clutch at the hair that draped from his previously naked skull. The inky waves slid through his gloved hands and was quickly marred with dirt and blood before he peered at you through the curtain, looking at you with the purple lights in his irises which were sunken back into his skull. His lips parted before he took a deep breath, wheezing out dust and muck, coughing like a goose before he kicked the chapped skin and crawled closer to your feet. He only looked at you, staring before one gloved hand whipped out and snatched your ankle, holding it tightly in an iron grip.

“Bound to your bloodline again...” he growled, “Humiliating.” Before he pushed himself back and stood, swaying on his legs like a new-born deer as his balance came back to him. Having a head was a heavy burden.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You breathed as Alcott slammed the side of his head and beat dirt out of his ears.

“Of course, you don’t. None of you ever do. Now I’m bound here to you until the day you drop dead and rot. Why can you never let me die?” He growled in a worked-up fury, flinging his hands to the windows before he stalked to the door, his boots slamming against the wood. He swung it open, and his mount brayed in greeting, throwing its giant head back before it caught sight of you and snorted, bowing it’s neck like a graceful Swan.

 “You are all the same!” The horseman shouted before the moon was revealed, a cloud moving away from its white surface. He shuddered and you watched the skin on his face disappear with the muscle, revealing the purple lights in a bare, burning skull. As the cloud recovered the moon, the base of his neck flared with purple smoke and fire, revealing the scar where he was decapitated, and his face reappeared.

“I gave you your head back, Alcott!” You shouted after him.

The horseman shivered and turned back to you, looking at you with his haunting eyes, both hands gripping the pommel and stand of the saddle, “How do you know my name?” He whispered in questioning.

With a small breath, you locked your lips nervously and ducked back to the table, grabbing the little diary from you bag before you stood on your porch and held it out to the wraith, “Maria wrote about you.”

He growled and snatched at the book, and you let him take it with a painful smile, “I know the townspeople killed you. They betrayed you. I don’t know what happened to Maria.” You confessed.

Alcott opened the diary and flicked through it before he looked at the night sky, “She lived in mourning the rest of her life. They institutionalised her after they found her carrying my head, wailing through the town. She died, high on cocktails of medicines, with her head buried in the soft soil of a flower bed.”

 The revelation was something of a shock and you looked at the undead man in front of you with a bitter, pitying look.

“You watched her die, didn’t you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The horseman scoffed, “That was the curse after all. To terrorise the town for their betrayal. But not her. I used to try call to her from the window, but she never could bare to look at me. Eventually they gave her more cocktails and she stopped coming to the window all together.”

“Jesus Christ.” You cursed.

“Such foul language.” Alcott sneered as he snapped the diary shut in his gloved hand, “She died from the madness and grief. That is the fault of the town and its yet another reason to run into each of these homes and tear their heads from their bodies.” Alcott spat furiously. As fury overtook him you could see the white scarred seem of where his head had been replaced burning with smoke the purple fumes puffing from it like a new wound before his neck popped and cracked, sending his head to the left, hanging on by a thread of flesh to the other side. You let out a screech and clasped your mouth as the horseman gurgled and reached for his head, grasping it by the hair before he groaned and dragged it back into place, snapping the vertebrae back into place with a twist and a squelch of bloodied tissue. It cracked again quickly, and Alcott held the top of his hair tightly with a groan as the smoke poured from his mouth and his head twisted backwards like a ghoul, spinning on his neck before it snapped again and came free, rolling over the floor to your feet as a skull. The flesh and hair melted in waves of muck from its surface, and you shakily took hold of the skull again.

 The horseman stumbled left and right as he reached towards you for his head.

“MY HEAD, WITCH!” He howled at you, but you dashed back up the porch steps and held it protectively.

“You are under my command. Anything against my wishes is against our contract...so you lose your head. Do you hear me horseman?” You blagged, hoping you were right, “So there will be no killing.”

“Evil, corrupt creature. I'll hang you by your feet and bleed you from the neck!” Alcott threatened as fire and smoke poured from his throbbing trachea. The smoke puffed before he went sent to the floor in agony, the black oak behind him creaking and swaying left and right as though the roots were snaking towards him. Sure enough, the ground rumbled, and the black oak’s roots exploded from the ground, snagging the horseman by his wrists and ankles hoisting him into the air as the branches hissed and his mount, Mallor, brayed and screamed, blood spraying over the fence from the horses broken throat.

 It was a curse. You should have expected as much, but you shook as the tree cinched the man’s limbs, holding them tight before it pulled, making him scream in agony as his joints were pulled tight.

“Stop!” You screamed, and the tree stopped pulling, holding the horseman aloft still as it swayed and bent towards you, its branches touching your head as though trying to figure out who you were.

“He is mine.” You told the tree, “He will obey and submit to the laws of his contract.”

The tree groaned, it’s roots wiggling in the cold, hard earth for a moment before it dropped Alcott like a sack of grain and settled down quietly, smacking at the horse inching closer to its trunk.

Alcott touched at his neck as he rose, swaying as he cracked and snapped his joints back into place like a disjointed puppet.

“Are you going to play nice now?” You asked as the man wheezed in front of you. When he nodded you offered him his skull back and watched the skin and flesh cover its surface again before he snarled behind his curtain of overgrown hair, blackberry-coloured lights burning the void of his eyes.

“You truly are her kin if that disgusting thing listens to you.” He snapped as he headed for his horse and mounted the saddle with a quick bounce on one powerful leg, his thighs locking tight around the beast’s sides as it bucked and brayed. Alcott turned his horse and tipped his head with a wave of purple smoke and fire, “Call on me then, witch, and see what havoc I can wreak for you.” Alcott laughed bitterly as he turned Mallor onto the cobbled drive and rode onto the road, his face becoming bone and flesh intermittently as the clouds passed overhead.

“I’m not a witch!” You screamed after the horseman, but he was gone into the mist and the trees, unlikely to have heard you cursing against the stairs of the porch as you collapsed.

[ghostbusters-hq]

Workplace Distractions (Egon Spengler x Reader)

words: 1.3k

pairing: Egon Spengler x Gender Neutral Reader

summary:  Egon's been working a lot lately so you go to the firehouse to try and distract him for a while. (Established relationship, Egon trying to be a Good Boyfriend, lots of cute stuff!)

Janine was sitting at her desk, her chin resting on her hand with her eyes cast down at the magazine she was idly flicking through. At the sound of the front door opening, she glanced up.

“Oh, y/n!” she perked up when she saw you, lifting her glasses off her face.

“Hey Janine.” You said, pushing your hands into your jacket’s pockets as you approached her desk.

“What are you doing here, ain’t it your day off?” Janine asked.

“Yeah, I was bored at home. Figured I’d come see what everyone was up to.” You said, and turned to look at the empty space where ECTO-1 was normally parked. You nodded your head towards it and turned back to Janine. “The guys out on a job?”

She nodded.

“Just Ray and Winston.” She said.

“Oh right, nice.” You said, rocking back onto your heels and fidgeting with the few coins that were in one of your pockets. “So um, is-“

“Egon’s upstairs.” She said, giving you a knowing smile, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

By this point, everyone knew that you and Egon were...romantically involved. Not that you minded, of course. In fact, you were actually glad everyone knew, and they were all supportive so that was nice. You just always got a little sheepish whenever it was brought up, even though the two of you had ‘officially’ been going out for a few months now.

“Oh, o-okay! Thanks Janine.” You said, giving her a smile before heading for the stairs.

As expected, you found the elusive Dr. Spengler hunched over his workbench the other side of the room as you reached the top of the stairs. You smiled and headed across to him. He clocked your footsteps as you approached and lifted his head from his microscope, glancing over his shoulder.

“Oh, y/n. I thought you were off today?” he asked.

“Thought I’d come down and bother you instead.” You replied, sidling up to him and giving his arm a playful nudge. He gave you a small smile.

“Fine with me.”

You grinned and peered over his arm to see what was on the desk. “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh.” He said, turning his attention back to his work. “Just taking a closer look at the ectoplasm sample we got yesterday. Very interesting, it’s different to anything else we’ve ever seen...”

He continued talking and you stepped over to an empty part of the workbench and hopped up onto it as you listened to him.

“Sounds pretty cool!” you said, having not actually understood half of the scientific terms he’d used. It didn’t hinder your interest, though. You did genuinely love listening to him speak about his work. He seemed vaguely amused by your summarisation.

“Yes, I’d say it was pretty cool.” He said.

His attention returned to his microscope, and you bit your lip as you watched him.

“So, um…” you said after a minute, breaking the silence. Egon didn’t look up from what he was doing, but you knew he was listening.

“I was thinking, maybe we could…go out for pizza later?” you asked, restlessly swinging your legs.

“I-If you’re not too busy, that is. It’s okay if you have work to finish.” You added quickly, not wanting to pressure him.

Egon looked up and you had your eyes cast down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He suddenly realised he had been working an awful lot lately and you had been incredibly patient with him – as you always were, and he never took your patience for granted.

“I’d love to.” He said, straightening up.

“Really? You’re sure you’re not too busy?” you asked.

Egon smiled and moved across to where you were sitting on the edge of his workbench, stepping forward to stand between your legs.

“I’m sure I can make some time for you.” He said quietly, letting his hands rest on your waist.

You met those big brown eyes of his and felt yourself blushing up to your ears with how close he was.

Egon famously despised most forms of physical contact. He didn’t like shaking hands with people, never mind hugging them. So at the beginning of your relationship, it was mostly you initiating things – after you’d made sure he was comfortable with it, of course.

It had made you wonder if there really was any truth in Venkman’s teasing “40 year old virgin” comments, but you quickly learned that Egon was just self-conscious when it came to expressing himself physically. Despite not being sexually active during his younger years in college, he’d assured you that he had been with a handful of people through his adult life. You’d left it at that.

It made your heart swell knowing that he was comfortable enough with you to let his guard down a little now, even when you weren’t in private.

You couldn’t get any words out before he leaned down and kissed you, so gently that it was as if he were worried you might shatter under him. Your shoulders relaxed almost immediately, and you wound your arms around his middle, underneath his lab coat, feeling his warmth against your palms through his shirt.

Even sat on the workbench as you were, your height difference was still evident with the way you were stretching up to meet him. He pulled away (much too soon for your liking), and you were left gazing up at him, lips slightly parted. Egon smiled, lifting a hand to rest against your cheek, his thumb lightly grazing over the skin there.

“I like it when you blush.” He said, enjoying how you then blushed even harder at his comment.

“I-I…uh…” you stumbled over your words, mind still reeling from the kiss he’d just given you. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

He smirked and leaned down again, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pressed his lips to yours. You could smell the hair gel he used, the smell of soap that still lingered on his skin from his shower that morning, and he tasted of coffee and candy bars (yeah, he really needed to cut down on those things). There was also something else that you couldn’t describe that was overloading your senses – something that was just uniquely Egon. You loved it, and you wanted more.

“Whoah, hey!”

The incredibly enjoyable moment you’d been having was abruptly halted by Venkman’s voice coming from the top of the stairs. You immediately yanked your head back and poked your head out from behind Egon to see him approaching, shaking his head.

“Please, no frolicking in the workplace, kids.” He said. At this point, Egon seemed immune to Peter’s teasing comments, but the fact you’d been caught in the act still got you all sheepish.

“Hello, Peter.” Egon said with a small smile, stepping away from you just slightly. “Did you need something?”

“Forgot my wallet. Ah! There it is.”

By chance, it was lying just beside you on the workbench and he reached over to grab it, then pushed it into his jacket pocket.

“Now, I’m going to meet Dana. Don’t you two lovebirds go havin’ too much fun now, you hear?” he said, giving you a wink before he turned to make his way back to the stairs.

“Mmhmm. Bye Pete.” You said. “Say hi to Dana for us.”

“Don’t forget to use protection!” he called as he descended the stairs. Your eyes widened at the comment, and you heard him chuckle before he went out of earshot.

You sighed and hopped off the workbench, letting out a small laugh. “I’m gonna hit him one day.”

“I think Janine might beat you to it.” Egon said, looking down at you. “But how about we get that pizza first?”

You grinned and nodded, suddenly overly aware of how hungry you were. “Good plan.”