#boys needs self care days too!! deep clean yourself take a shower wash your hair brush your teeth put on a new set of clothes and do the

[disneyprincessdxminatrix]

holding my boyfriend at gunpoint to take a self care day

[rumblelibrary]

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort? 

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

[adenandraofvespertine]

(I hope requests are still open) So, I see you reblogged that one text post from Reddit about a couple with a guy who cries upon being taken care of by his gf during a bath sooooooo... How about writing Guzma and fem!S/I in that situation? ;) I'm pretty sure Guzma has some emotional issues and a lot to vent about to his gf and, as you wrote, you love bathing together as a trope.

Oh my heart

My soul. I been waiting for this one.

I not only love it as a trope but as a whole... Just, the intimacy and soulmate vibes. The feeling of acceptance, relaxation and care. A good and pure feeling.

Disclaimers: nsfw cuz naked and touching and all that, emotions, guzma is a traumatized boy and he needs loving to help him on his healin journey

Quick note: I'm gonna place y'all in the mindset that you and Guzma have been in an intimate relationship for a comfortable amount of time, to the point where bathing together is new but you be been naked together or had shower sex enough times that it's just... normal. Comfortable. Not awkward.

•••••••

Shower Intimacy

A smile tugs on your lips as you feel hands snake around your waist and lips press against the nape of your neck. You look in the mirror as Guzma's fluffy white hair peeks over your shoulders; it's been a long day. The dark circles under his eyes are a little more pronounced, yet he still gives you his easygoing and ever cheeky smile.

Stepping into the shower, you sigh in relief at the warm water on your skin. Resting your hands on Guzma's hips and placing your lips on his back as he dips his head under the running water. Words aren't needed to convey the comfort you feel in eachother's presence, simple touch is enough.

As you reach for your favoured body soap he raises his hand and tuts with a grin, taking it in your stead. You give him a smile as he puts some in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead, his hands extracting every discomfort from your limbs as he cleans them. You can't quite find the words to explain the feeling... his careful, delicate and affectionate caress is accentuated by a cheeky squeeze followed by a chuckle. He is especially diligent in feeling every inch of you in this moment, enjoying every curve and texture your body has to offer. You are more than happy to enjoy the intimate patterns he traces upon your skin.

You feel his eyes on you as you rinse off, your hands gliding over your limbs to wash away the suds he so lovingly crafted. Not to worry though, you select his favoured body soap and take a brief moment to revel in its signature scent. Reminding you of its play in his musk, the memories that come with Guzma's particular scent. Is this how he feels about your soaps too?

His smile is inviting as you move over to him and place a loving kiss over his lips, your hands spreading the soap over his chest and shoulders.... Fingertips gracing every dip and curve of his form, his eyes close as he melts at the feeling. Little do you know his heart hammers in his chest, an inexplicable chain of chemicals firing in his mind drawing an unnoticed tear to his eye as you press a warm kiss to his cheek. You pick up his shampoo and shake the bottle in an unspoken question, he nods and sheepishly lowers his head to your reach.

You smile at him, even though he has closed his eyes while you massage his scalp. You find yourself enjoying caring for him, as he cares for you so much as well. An unspoken exchange of appreciation, communicated by touch and care. You are completely unaware of the tears falling along with the drops of water, Guzma is beyond thankful that the water is there to camouflage them. Though when you smooth his shampoo-lathered hair out of his face you notice a certain redness in his eyes and cheeks.

"You alright?" You question, gently holding his head in your hands.

"Yeah, m' fine... better than fine, sorry, it's dumb..." he sniffs, chuckling and putting his hands over yours.

"It's not dumb... You can tell me." Your brows arch down in concern.

He chuckles a little, his eyes flickering closed a moment.

"I love you... Too much for words, y'know? There just... isn't a word good enough for how I feel about ya." He says, squeezing your hands and giving you a meaningful look before easing his head back into the water. You smile at him as he rinses out his hair, ever patient for him to bring you under the running water.

And that he does, taking you by the hands and then by the hips.

"I love you too, Guzma. You're more than I ever could have asked for." You say, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

He grins softly, leaning into your touch. "You're more than a guy like me coulda ever hoped for. Yet here ya are... for what reason I never understand. I mean I don't think I ever did anything to deserve ya..." his eyes search your own. There is a deep sadness, a self loathing with its claws dug into his mind that he feels he has no hope of shaking loose...

"That doesn't matter, Guz. I love you for who you are, regardless of what you think of yourself. Regardless of the past. I love you and I'll say it a million times till it gets through that bug brain." You grin, pulling him into a hug under the cascade of warm water.

He buries his head in your shoulder and lets out a shuddering sigh, "You don't have to try and be good enough for me. We're in this together, as equals. Don't think about it any other way, okay?" You state, your tone firm but kind as you gently rub his back.

"Okay. Thank you, doll." He sniffles, kissing your shoulder affectionately.

[jjunberry]

GOT7-Domestic Moments

____

JAEBEOM:

Jaebeom was at the studio all day which means you’ve been home by yourself. This never really bothered you however today you’ve just missed him a lot. He’s been busy all week. Jaebeom leaves early and comes home late and barely has anytime to spare you a goodbye or good night kiss. The apartment was quiet so when your phone started ringing loudly it caused you to jump. “ Hello?” you answered. “ Hey Y/n, it’s Jinyoung can you come and help us get him to take a break. He’s been working non stop we are worried.” You sighed. “Yeah I’ll come.”

When you made it to the studio the boys were releaved to see you and the bags of take out you was carrying. After giving the hungry boys their food you took Jaebeom his. Headphones blasting new beats to new music covered his ears as his head moved along to the music. Under is eyes were dark and he was wearing the same sweats he wore yesterday.

You sat the food down on the table in his studio and walked up behind him wrapping your arms around him. Jaebeom jumped and quickly turned to face who came up behind him. The shocked look quickly turned into a look of happiness when he saw it was only you. “ Hey babe.” his voice was low. “ Hey. I brought you food let’s take a break okay?” Jaebeom frowned. “ I’ll eat later I have to finish this.” You sighed before placing your hands on his tense shoulders. “Babe.” his voice cut off when you began to massage his shoulders. He let out small groans finally happy to release the stress weighing on his shoulders.

You left kisses on his neck and continued to work on his shoulders releasing the stress they held. Jaebeom grabbed your hands bring each one to his lips leaving a kiss on them. “ Alright you win i’ll take a break.” You kissed his cheek and brought him over to the table to eat. “ I love you.” He said before he started eating. “ I love you more.”

MARK:

Mark has been really into playing online games with Bambam recently. Most if not all of his day is spent with him playing games. You don’t care if he plays his video games but you’ve missed him in more ways then one. “Mark?” You called out when you entered your apartment. You got no response. “MARK?” you called again louder. When you didn’t get an answer you went into his his self proclaimed game room which was just the home office he dragged his gaming stuff into. “Babe.” You touched his shoulder. “One second.” was his response. You sighed going into your shared bedroom.

Nothing really gets him to stop playing once he’s really into one of his games. You decided to take a relaxing bath. You added bath salts and a bath bomb to the extremely warm water. Just as you was about to get in the bathroom door burst open and Mark rushed in. “ Oh sorry. It’s a quick bathroom break before the next game starts.” he rushed out before using the bathroom.

You stood there naked and in shock as Mark used the bathroom. When he was done and washing his hands was when he realized you was naked. A deep blush covered his face. “ You know if you weren’t playing your game maybe you would be in a nice hot bath, with me.....naked.” Mark visibly swallowed.

“ But you can��t leave the boys hanging right? So go play your game i’ll be here.” you teased. Next thing you know Mark was stripping joining you in the bath. You now know how to get his attention away from his games.

JACKSON:

The house was quiet. You and Jackson lived together but his schedule kept him busy and away from home a lot. You got lonely and wanted something to keep you company. So without consulting Jackson you headed to the local animal shelter. He’s been to busy to actually talk about adopting a dog anyway and you know he’s always wanted one so you went ahead and looked into adopting one.

There was so many animals and they were all waiting for a forever home. If the option was given you would have taken them all home with you. But the one that caught your eye then stole your heart was a small brown dog. She looked lonely but once you got to meet her she became a big ball of sunshine. She reminded you of Jackson so you chose her.

When you got home with the puppy bundled in your arms Jackson was already home. “Jackson.” Your voice was full of surprise which caused Jackson to smile. “ Hey babe, how was your- What are you holding and why is it moving?” You giggled. “ Please don’t get mad.” You said before opening the blanket and setting the puppy down.

Jackson’s eyes went wide. “ YOU GOT A PUPPY.” He screamed. He rushed towards the dog and laid on the floor causing the dog to jump on his chest and start licking his face. “ You aren’t mad?” you asked. “ Mad? Why would I be mad. I’m so happy we have a child now, we are parents! I love you.” “ I love you too, but she still needs a name.” He smiled wide. “We will name her princess.” You giggled. “Okay then, Welcome home Princess.”

JINYOUNG:

You was bored. Jinyoung was reading a book on the opposite end of the couch. You kept letting out sighs to see if Jinyoung would give you attention but he was really into the book he was reading. Your foot connected with his thigh and you lightly kicked him in hopes of getting his attention.

He didn’t even look up from his book. You then decided to crawl over to him and sit on his lap. “ Jinyoung.” nothing. “JINYOUNG.” He let out a long sigh. “ Yes?” he asked. “ I’m bored.” He rolled his eyes. “ I couldn’t tell.” You in return rolled your eyes. “ Can we do something?” Jinyoung marked his page and closed his book. “ Like what?” You shrugged your shoulders. “ Let’s bake cupcakes!”

Jinyoung followed you into the kitchen where you were already gathering the ingredients. Baking cupcakes turned into a food war after you smacked Jinyoung’s butt with a flour covered hand.

You had cake batter matted in your hair and Jinyoung was covered in eggs and flour. You both cleaned up the kitchen before taking a shower. “ Next time let’s bake something that doesn’t become this messy.” Jinyoung said while he washed the cake batter out of your hair.

YOUNGJAE:

Youngjae was jealous. He loved you and Coco getting along. He did but he didn’t love that You and Coco were cuddling without him. Youngjae had been home from practice for more than an hour now and you haven’t made any room for him to join you in cuddles.

You was laying on the couch with Coco tucked in by your side. Youngjae was sitting on the chair in the living room letting out sighs. “Babe why are you sighing is everything okay? Was practice okay?” Your voice was full of worry. Youngjae shook his head. “ Nope practice was fine. Am I not allowed to cuddle you?” He asked. You frowned. “ Youngjae you are always allowed to cuddle me. Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t made room for me to cuddle you and i’ve been home for an hour.” He stated before crossing his arms. “ Babe I know but Coco was sleeping and i didn’t want to move her.” Youngjae’s frown turned into a smile which always lights up the room. “ Oh sorry babe we can cuddle when Coco wakes up.” Youngjae sat and waited until Coco woke up because he didn’t want to disturb her sleep.

BAMBAM:

Bambam had been annoying you all day. Not in a bad way he’s just been trying to make you laugh or he’s been doing random funny acts out of no where. When it started to get late you was getting tired. Bambam however still at it. His laughs filled the apartment. He was to busy playing with the cats so you took the time to slip away and head to bed.

You were sleeping peacefully for about half an hour before Bambam entered your shared bedroom. “BABE.” he shouted before plopping down on top of you. “BAMBAM.” you yelled. He was laughing at your reaction. “Bam please i’m really really tired.” You whined.

Bambam rolled off of you onto his side of the bed. He then pulled you into his arms and left kisses on your head. “ Sorry. You can get some sleep now I got you.” You smiled and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips before closing your eyes and finally getting a peaceful sleep.

YUGYEOM:

The weather outside was warm so Yugyeom had the great idea of you guys taking Dalkyum on a walk. The two of you got dressed and left the apartment. Dalkyum was having a good time running around outside. Yugyeom was recording the pomeranian playing around the park you guys walked too.

“Yugyeom let me get pictures of you two the sun is hitting in the right spot!” You pulled out your phone opening the camera. Yugyeom wasted no time posing with Dalkyum. Those two were so photogenic and each one you took was better than the last.

“Yugyeom these are so cute. You both look great.” You cheered showing him the countless pictures you snapped. Yugyeom smiled before grabbing his phone and pulling you to his side. He took a few pictures of you two together before you got shy and ran off with Dalkyum.

Yugyeom snuck some pictures of you knowing how camera shy you got. Once he was happy with the pictures he took he ran over to the two of you all smiles and his heart full of love.

____

ahhh my first time writing for got7!!

i hope you enjoyed- Echo ❤️❤️

(all gifs found on pinterest credits to owners)

[unholyplumpprincess]

Mrs. Williams

Self indulgent fic with Bangalore being reader’s wife and you help her ease all the tension in her from the games once she’s back home. Reader loves their wife so much.

Relationship: Bangalore/GN AFAB Reader

Fandom: Apex legends

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral, Bangalore is the best wife, y’all have a dog together, Reader is written wearing more feminine clothing but gender not specified!, Marriage?, it’s gay

Words: 2.7K

_____

Your wife was known as one of the biggest legends out there. Anita was seen on banners, was an icon for little girls who wanted to chop their hair short and take on deeper voices. How she wielded a weapon between calloused hands and shot charming smirks across the arena to cameras made people fall in love.

You were no stranger to the feeling of falling in love either. She was easy to fall in love with. You mean- just LOOK at her.

Her smoky voice and soft chuckles got enough of a rise out of you at the bar alone. By then, you hadn’t known of the legend Bangalore. You only knew of the woman.

Anita Williams.

~Rest under the cut~

Anita was rather a mystery- despite having talked about her past in a war you couldn’t put your finger on. It wasn’t a war of worlds, there was something there that haunted her and she shut down any speak of it. You never pushed, not wanting her to feel like she needed to expose things to you she wasn’t even ready herself for.

It had been you who had kissed her first, one fateful night. After a particularly bad loss in the games and her being upset by it. You had made her dinner, held her hand. And when she wouldn’t stop glancing at your lips you took your shot.

That was a year ago. And now? Now you have an apartment she regularly visited. You both had your own spaces still, even after being married. The games required her to be closer during the season in her dorm, otherwise she was at home with you.

Home.

The thought made you smile.

The simple gold band around your ring matched the one she had on her dog tags, close to her heart and out of the way from pulling triggers or getting caught. Your wedding photos line the tops of your dressers and the walls. Her dress had been beautiful, a fluffy little ball gown and she’d ditched the makeup so you could kiss all the little freckles on her cheeks that night.

Not your fault her face was covered in lipstick kisses by the end of the day.

The game from yesterday was over, with her, Bloodhound, and Mirage reigning champions of the arena. The next upcoming game was next week, allowing the legends and newcomers to have a break from the grueling task of the bloody sport.

It meant she had time to come over, which meant your apartment was cleaned with your shared rottweiler wiggling his stubby little tail in excitement. He knew if you were cleaning that mommy was coming over soon enough. But, that also meant you needed to tucker him out enough he wouldn’t be hopping all on her.

Which leads to an hour long walk around the city with your big pup.

Chief was a big dog, as rottweilers were. A big adopted goofball who liked to be dressed up and pampered, which also meant strangers patting his head and calling him pretty. He was very much a mommy’s boy, loving Anita’s company and preferring to lounge on your wife when she was home.

Due to living in the small space of your apartment, that meant many walks for the pup when the weather allowed it, which meant plenty of snuggles from strangers. Especially kids who liked to compliment his nice pink bandana and big smile.

Once home, tuckered out, Chief splays out on his bed and snoozes. All according to plan once Anita shows up an hour later, right when you were about to fall asleep on the couch. Springing right up to greet her at the door.

Reaching up, she leans down for you to cup her cheeks and draw her into a soft kiss. Humming against your mouth as you smile against hers in return.

“Take it you missed me?” She murmurs against your lips, and you take the cue to pull back. Pressing a singular kiss to her nose and letting her go.

“Mmh. Maybe. I GUESS I missed you or something.” You tease, earning you an amused little smirk as she drops her backpack on the floor. Lunging for you as you squeal and hit the couch first as she peppers kisses all over your face and blows raspberries in your neck.

It’s only a matter of time before the excitement makes Chief hop up onto the couch with you both. Grunting and huffing through his nose until he can find his favorite part between the both of you with Anita lavishing him in attention.

Home.

–

After dinner and your own shower, it’s time to rest in bed. The lamp illuminating the room in warm lighting as you rest in a pretty, long black night gown. Showing a plentiful amount of cleavage in a low plunge and enough of your legs to be playful. You play on your phone as you wait for Anita to get through with her shower, already planning ahead.

Lotion rests on the nightstand under the lamp with two water bottles. Toys in a drawer and her favorite perfume clinging to your skin.

It goes accordingly when she leaves the shower. Loose sweatpants around her hips and her tanktop pulled up enough to show her midriff as she towels at her curls. Tossing the towel into the nearby hamper as she rolls her shoulders and groans from the tension.

Perfect.

Her dogtags around her neck jingle as she approaches and you let your eyes drift up to her. Putting your phone off to the side of the bed and crawling to the end of the bed to meet her there. Pulling yourself up onto your knees so you can drape your arms around her neck and watch her smile knowingly at you.

“You seem tense, baby,” You take the time of pause to nuzzle up into her neck. Speaking softly. “You haven’t been doing stretches before you go out into the ring, have you?” You press a soft kiss to her pulse point, drifting your soft lips up to her ear as she shivers. Briefly shaking her head in reply.

“Mmh,” you hum softly, pressing a kiss to her lobe and pulling back. “Lie down, I’ll give you a massage- just take off your pants and maybe your top.”

Obedient as ever, Anita huffs in reply, rolling her eyes at your antics as she shimmies out of her sweatpants to show plain black boyshorts. Pulling off her tanktop and making you bite your bottom lip as you admire her toned body. The way her abs and biceps flex. Trailing your eyes up to her breasts.

With an athletic build, she didn’t have too much there. Enough to be soft handfuls amongst all her hard earned muscle.

“Beautiful.” You murmur, just to watch her flush red and rub at the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Married you may have been, but you never tired of seeing her turn pink at the ears.

She lies obediently down on her abdomen on the bed. Cradling her head under her arms to rest her cheek on her forearm, watching you round the bed to get the lotion and perching beside her on your knees.

The lotion smells plain of vanilla. Easy to spread on your hands and then onto her back. Hissing softly under your breath when you feel just how tense she’s been. “Anita.” You groan in a scolding tone, earning you a snort back from her like a chuffing puppy.

“No time between drops to time when to do your ‘yoga regime’, baby.” She groans back at you, only to really moan under you when you work your fingers into her taut shoulders. Working out knots with your thumbs and applying enough pressure to be nice.

From there it’s just quiet sighs and groans from her as you work down her spine, over her hips then down to her legs. Her calves are the worst of all, tense probably from crouching and running about. You tut at her and she grunts her apology. Wordlessly having a conversation.

When you roll her onto her back, she’s already like jello. Relaxed and pliant as you work over her neck, down her arms to her hands where you kiss at her palms and fingertips. Watching her lips quirk up and her eyes flutter closed, relaxing under you.

You don’t play coy around her chest, avoiding any sensitive areas to work thoroughly on unwinding her. Working over her thigh muscles and feeling her squirm briefly. Ticklish to your antics and you can’t help but blow a raspberry on her tummy just to watch Anita jerk and push at your head with a laughed out, “Hey!”

You smile back at her. Excusing yourself briefly to go wash your hands off in the bathroom to rid yourself of the lotion. She waves you off, clearly not going anywhere.

Good.

When you come back, she still hasn’t moved. Splayed out on her back, legs parted a little, propped up against the pillows now. You make your presence known with the creak of the bed, pressing your weight into it and crawling up her body. Resting between her thighs as you hover above her.

Her eyes catch yours, deep pools of dark brown and her pupils blown wide.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur in a low tone, leaning down and pressing an open mouthed kiss to her jawline. Letting your teeth scrape there just to hear her breath hitch. You smirk, sucking a hickey just beneath her ear and feel her hands come up to grip at your sides with a low whine of your name.

“Missed you all week,” You breathe into her ear, tracing your lips up back to the corner of her own mouth. “Couldn’t wait to taste your sweet cunt again.” Your voice drops then, feeling her lips part in a shaky breath. All the opening you need to claim her mouth as your own. Licking into her mouth and feel her hands grab at your ass now. Trying to pull you up onto her lap so she can maybe grind on you, grab at you.

You couldn’t allow that. You were taking care of her after all.

One hand presses by Anita’s head to keep you up, the other grabs at her breast. Squeezing softly at the flesh before rolling and pinching her nipple. Getting it hard before you part from the kiss. Kissing down her throat, down her clavicle and brushing scars along the way. Sucking a hickey into the side of her breast before finally sealing your lips over her nipple.

She’s sensitive, sighing with pleasure harshly and turning her head. Anita’s freckled cheeks are flushed dark and you take joy in how her fingers twist in your hair as you lick at the hardened nub in your mouth.

You only part briefly so you can move to her side. Almost spooning her as you cradle her breast and guide her to face you a touch so you can wrap your lips back around her nipple. Letting her stroke and pull at your hair as your other hand comes down between her thighs. Palming at her crotch and stroking with your thumb over the slit of her lower lips.

Anita whines at that, bending down to kiss at the top of your head and groaning when your thumb presses hard to her clit through her underwear. Stroking back and forth and pressing her with your palm until you feel wetness sticking to your hand.

“Baby-” She whines out when you pull your hand away, pulling off her nipple. You shush her whining as she reaches for you, gently guiding her hands back to your hair.

“Shh, I wanna take care of you tonight, Anita. You work too hard. Let me take care of you.” You murmur so soft into her skin as you kiss down the path from her breasts to her abdomen. Anita’s face is burning, her eyes displaying her trying to decide if she wants to just let you have it tonight. No control, nothing kinky, just touch.

Her decision is made by the time you reach the top of her boyshorts. Leaning down to inhale her scent and nose at the wetness. Your eyes stay on her face, watching as her eyes flutter and she turns her head in embarrassment as you moan low in your throat.

Gods, you missed her.

Hooking your fingers in the elastic, you pull them down with her help. Anita lifting up her hips until you can hook them off her ankle and leave them there. Too excited to press at her thighs and spread her open.

Dark curls rest between her thighs. Trimmed and well kept. Her pussy spreads open like a flower with plump lower lips and floral-like inner labia. Her clit is rounded and a good size, easy to make bigger with enough stimulation. Glistening wet as her clit jerks with a contraction when you blow air on her.

You can’t wait anymore. Your mouth is watering and you’re far too dizzy with need.

Your first lick is a test. From hole to clit in a long, drawn out lick. Her slick sticks to your tongue, tangy and salty all the same as her hips jerk. She’s sensitive. She hasn’t touched herself since you last had her.

You nearly smile at your wife, peeking under your lashes to watch her bite her own fist, her other hand tangled in your hair and trying to push you back down.

“Good girl.” You sigh up to her, watch her nod her head quickly in response. Yes, she’s a good girl, yes she didn’t touch herself, yes please continue.

She won’t say it. Anita is far too prideful to beg sometimes. But you can feel it.

You seal your lips over her clit in open mouthed kisses. Selfishly toying with her as you trace around her clit. One hand pressing to her mound and pushing a bit to pull back her clitoral hood. Making her clit more pronounced as you kiss at it, mouthing at her until her breath hitches and a whine creeps out.

You quickly begin sucking over her. Watching her throw her head back before you close your eyes. Using your other hand that was resting on her thigh to come up. Stroking two fingers through her slick before easing one inside. Quirking it upwards and rubbing at her inner walls before introducing the second to begin stretching at her.

You lick at her swollen clit caught between your lips. Lavishing attention on her as you begin fucking her with your fingers. You only pull back for air, huffing hot breaths over her and using your thumb to rub at her clit. Licking your slick lips and nuzzling at her thigh.

Anita is a mess. Hips bucking upwards, teeth sinking into her fist and doing no help of muffling her moans and low sighs. Huffing as her head shakes from side to side with each movement you allow her. Her hand in your hair can’t decide whether it wants to pet, pull, or shove you back down where you want to be.

“That’s it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers.” You coo to her. Watching and feeling her hips as she pushes down into your insistent thrusts. Feeling how she twitches and squeezes around you, beginning to push at your head again until you do what she wants. Sealing your lips back around her clit and sucking hard.

With a few well timed thrusts up into her, you quirk your fingers upwards and she’s done for.

Anita cries out, her fist going from her mouth to pound against the mattress once or twice as she cums. She’s loud as she cries out your name, hips stuttering as you fuck her through it. Licking selfishly at her jerking clit even when she pulls at your hair and whines.

You only stop when she’s sensitive enough to sob your name out. Slowing down and pressing one last hard, wet kiss to her clit and slowly pulling your fingers out. Sliding them through her lower lips to capture her clit between your fingers a few times just to keep her high enough.

“Mggh-” Is Anita’s groaned reply once you finally stop. Watching her outstretch her arms until you come up, straddling her hips and nuzzling into her neck so she can cuddle you like an oversized plush.

“Don’t take that you’re up for round two anytime soon?” You tease into her neck, feeling her racing pulse against your lips.

Anita’s reply is a huff and a weak slap to your ass that has you laughing.

[karasuno-chaos]

Quarantine Haircuts with Noya, Kuroo, and Bokuto

I gave my sister a haircut during quarantine a few days ago (salons are still closed where I live) and it got me thinking about how some of my favorite volleyball boys would handle a similar scenario.  Likes/reblogs are appreciated! -Giz

Noya

He’s only surviving this quarantine because of you, okay?  Our boy does not do well being stuck inside all day.  He has too much energy and loves to experience things!

There are only so many things to experience in self-quarantine.

But you’ve done your best to help him by coming up with cute little in-home date ideas and couples exercises and everyday things to keep both of you sane.

One of those things is trying to stick to a morning routine.

Noya’s an early riser, so he’ll go through his whole morning routine and be halfway through making breakfast by the time you roll out of bed.

“Good morning sunshine.”

You blink at him, looking a bit confused even though he’s greeted you like this every morning since you moved in together.

“Babe, I think you’re shrinking.”

He looks so scared for a second.

“Your hair,” you explain.  “It’s drooping.”

His hair has grown so long that the gel can’t hold it up anymore.

At first he’s a bit pouty but then you’re both laughing because he looks kind of like a troll doll.

But neither of you particularly like troll dolls so that evening after his shower he asks you to trim his hair.

“Are you sure?  You don’t want to grow it out and wear it in a man bun like Asahi?”

“Nah, that sounds like too much of a hassle.”

(Because gelling it every morning isn’t a hassle??  Though you’re always a little amazed at how quickly he does his hair.  (You timed him once.  It took less than a minute.))

Not gonna lie, you’re a bit nervous.

“What if I cut it too short?”

“It’ll just grow out in a few weeks.”

“You love your hair, though.  I don’t want to cut it and then have you hate it.”

“Guess what, babe?  I love you more than I love my hair.  Whatever you do will be fine with me.”

Well.  When he trusts you so fully like that, how can you say no?

Noya is totally unphased when you start snipping and little bits of hair fall to the floor.

He’s chatting about funny stories he’s heard or random facts he’s remembered or the memes he and Tanaka have swapped recently.

Pretty soon you’re both laughing and you have to stop your scissors.

“Babe, I can’t cut straight when I’m laughing so much!  And I need you to sit still or I’ll mess up.”

He does his very best after that to sit still for you but you can feel the energy emanating from him waiting to be let out.

You do your best to go quickly so he can go back to his usual bouncy self, but it still takes you awhile because you’re being careful.

You love how fluffy his hair is!  Especially right after the shower.  You could just stand and run your hands through it forever, but you won’t because Noya probably can’t sit still that long.

You walk around him doing one last inspection, looking for any chunks you missed.

You can feel his eyes following you.  He’s hyper-focused like you’re a volleyball he’s preparing to bump.

When you finally declare that you’re done, he leaps off the chair to run to the closest mirror.

You’re silently freaking out while he runs his hands through his hair and checks out your work.

“Babe, it looks so good!”

He’s so happy!!

“I should let you cut my hair all the time!”

His excitement makes you so proud and warm and soft.

If it’s always going to make him this happy then of course you’ll cut his hair next time, too.

Kuroo

You’re on the couch binging a TV show together which is how you’ve spent most of your quarantine.

Kuroo’s only half paying attention scrolling through his Twitter feed with his head in your lap.

You’re playing absentmindedly with his hair.

“Tetsurou, you’re getting kind of shaggy.”

He grunts in acknowledgment like he’s only half listening, but after a moment he puts down his phone and shifts onto his back so he’s looking up at you.

“Do you like it?” he asks with a smirk before trying to blow his overgrown fringe out of his face (what a dork!)

“I love you,” you chuckle.  “Do you like it?”

“It doesn’t help the bedhead, so I don’t really care either way.”

“Have you ever tried growing it out?  The weight might help flatten it.”

“I did one summer but it looked awful.  Kenma refused to be seen with me until I cut it.”

You laugh together, though your interest is piqued.  Later you’ll hunt around for pictures of long-haired Kuroo to tease him.

“I’m not the only one whose hair is longer,” he says, reaching up to run some of your hair between his fingers.

“True, but I can actually style my hair somewhat.”

“Lucky duck.”

“If it’s bugging you, I can give you a trim.”

“Hm, I don’t know if I trust you near my head with scissors.”

“Suit yourself,” you say, ruffling his hair so his fringe is back in his face.

You suspect it’s just a matter of time until he can’t handle it…

Sure enough, a few days later he comes to you grouchy.

“Were you serious when you offered to cut my hair?”

“Of course.”

You drape an old sheet around his shoulders and sit him down on a stool.

His bedhead is both a blessing and a curse.

If you cut unevenly, it wouldn’t be very noticeable, but you know Kuroo wrestles with his hair enough already.  You want to do a good job for him.

You just can’t figure out where to start.

“Everything good?” he asks, looking at you over his shoulder.

You’re making him nervous just standing there.

“Yeah.  Face forward and don’t move.”  You push him gently so you’re faced with the back of his head again.

With a deep breath, you get to work.

You make a few tentative snips and pause, running his hair between your fingers and tilting your head as you try to visualize what you’re working towards.

“If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

“Hey.”  You tilt his head back so you can meet his eyes, raising one of your eyebrows.  “You don’t trust me?”

“No, I do.”

“Then shut up and let the master work.”  You kiss him on the forehead before he drops his chin with a chuckle.

You run your hand through his hair again, feeling how unusually long it is.

Wait a minute.

You can feel how long it’s gotten!

Suddenly you’re snipping away with confidence.

You play with Kuroo’s hair so much that your fingers have memorized how it should feel.

You do his fringe last, coming around to face him.

“You’d better close your eyes or you’ll get hair in them.”

“Seems worth the risk when my hairdresser’s so hot.”

“You won’t be complimenting me if I’ve butchered your hair.”

“You love me too much to do that.”

“Do I love you more than I love making fun of you, though?”

“Okay, you’re done.”

He throws the sheet off, sending bits of hair flying, and runs to the bathroom to make sure you haven’t intentionally embarrassed him.

“Tetsu!” you laugh, following him.  You lean in the doorway and watch as he inspects your work in the mirror.

“So?  What’s the verdict?”

He primps in front of the mirror a bit longer before turning to you with his crooked grin.

“Like I said, my hairdresser’s super hot.  And she does good work.”

“I’m glad I meet with your approval,” you grin, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a kiss.

“Now go clean up the mess you made in our kitchen.”

Bokuto

Ok so quarantine has been kind of hard for Bo.

He’s missing the gym and volleyball and getting out of the house and his teammates.

Extra time with you is a huge positive and you do your best to help him navigate the craziness but he’s just a tiny step away from emo mode at any moment.

So you’re not too surprised when you find him one morning in the bathroom staring at himself in the mirror near tears.

“Hey hun, is something wrong?”

“My hair,” he whimpers.

“What’s up?”

“It won’t do the thing right.”

So you step over and squirt some gel onto your palms and get to work, but no matter what you do, it’s not turning out how it usually does.

“I think it’s too long,” you finally declare, letting your hands and his hair drop.

He looks so dejected.

“So I have to go through the rest of quarantine like this?”

“Well the salons aren’t allowed to open yet.”

“It’s not right.  I can’t be the best ace without my super awesome hair.”

“You’re the best ace no matter what,” you promise, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his cheek.  “But if you want, I’ll try and cut your hair for you.”

“Really?”  There’s a hint of hope in his voice.

“I need you to wash the gel out first, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Fifteen minutes later you’re running your hand through his damp hair figuring out where to begin.

You need to take about an inch and a half off, so you start at the bottom and work your way up in layers.

You have a vague idea of what you’re doing, having accompanied him to the salon a few times previously and watched his usual hairdresser work.

As long as it turns out close to what it normally is, Bo will be happy.  He’s not one to get picky with the details.

You can feel him relax as you work.  He loves the feeling of your hands in his hair.

You run your hands through his hair a little more than necessary, massaging his scalp lightly and feeling him lean into it.

Eventually he starts humming, a sure sign that he’s content.  It makes you smile.

He’s so content, in fact, that when you work your way around to the front to check the evenness of the cut, he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your stomach.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you chuckle, patting his back fondly.  (He’s just a big softie!!)  “But I need you to let go so I can finish up.  I’m almost done.”

He sits back and lets you keep going, but his eyes follow your every move.  He’s smiling lightly the whole time.  You make him so happy!!

You set the scissors down and hold up his hair in some semblance of his flamboyant updo to check the length one last time.

“Okay Kou, I think that’s good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He waits for you to brush the bits of hair from his shoulders before he runs to the bathroom.

You’re sweeping up the bits on the floor when you hear a jubilant “Hey hey hey!” from the other room.  You know he’s pleased with your work, and it makes you smile.

A few minutes later, he struts into the room, his hair gelled in its usual dramatic style.  He sweeps you into his arms and gives you a big kiss.

“What do you think?” he asks with a grin.

“I think it looks good.  What do you think?”

“I think I’ve never looked better!  Thanks babe.”

“Anything for you, hun.”

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -Part Twenty-Three

Warnings: Language, Angst, Violence, Blood, Torture, Electrocution

Part Twenty-Four

Word Count: 2.5K

Tag List: @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow​ @starxfires​

A/N: AGAIN THIS IS REALLY DARK PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRESSION

As Rory sat in the chair, she could feel how weak she was getting. It had been weeks and she was still playing Joker's prisoner, every day he would come in a try to piss her off to the point where she would kill him but every day it didn't work. Since she worked out the fact that it was Slade who put him up to this, she knew what he wanted. Slade wanted her to kill again, and spiral further before he finally killed her himself.

When it didn't work, the Joker took to his favorite part; torturing her. Of course, the wound on her side was still injured and he used it to his advantage. The Joker figured out pretty early on just how high her pain tolerance was, and what would make her scream but not what made her angry.

Her body was sore, and her throat was dry. Of course, no one was courteous enough to let her take a shower, or even wash her hair so it was matted and went everywhere. Her suit was dirty and covered in blood, grime, sweat, and dirt. Her bow and quiver were missing along with her utility belt, Rory had a feeling they tossed them somewhere in a dumpster.

Every day she reminded herself of what was important, it was easy to lose yourself in this situation and Rory refused to let that happen. No matter what the Joker did to her, she refused to kill even if it meant he killed her instead. At this point, she partially hoped that he was getting tired of her and would just put an end to all this but then she would think of Tim. Rory didn't want to put that kind of pain on him, nor did she want Oliver, Dinah, and Roy to hurt like that either.

She worried about Tim more than anything, what was he doing and how was he handling it? She wasn't there to make sure he took care of himself, and she was sure one of the others would make sure he at least ate something. Her thoughts wandered to the others, especially Barbara and Jason.

They were hurt by the Joker, Barbara was paralyzed and Jason was literally murdered by him. She really hoped that they didn't see the footage the Joker sent to Batman and that Tim wasn't seeing it either.

Right on schedule, the Joker walked in with four of his goons at his side. He held something in his hand, but Rory couldn't see what it was from her spot and the dim lighting. "Hello, birdy! How'd ya sleep?" he laughed, swinging the item in his hand.

Rory's eyes followed him, as he walked to the camera and turned it on. She saw the light go green and she knew it was recording. "I slept great, metal chairs are ever so comfortable. We should switch places so you could see."

The Joker laughed, "Wow, you really don't give up, do you? Why, do you want to beat me around some?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, I see you brought more friends. Are you scared that I'll find a way to kick your ass with a metal chair too?" she asked, blowing her hair out of her face. She noticed that they were holding several buckets of what seemed to be just plain water.

"Ever so feisty! Go on boys, drench her!" he said, and beckoned them forward. Each one held a large bucket of water, what the hell was he planning on doing to her with it. Rory watched as the first one dumped the bucket on her and she gasped, it was ice cold and she shuddered in the chair.

"Oh great, I was just thinking about how I needed a shower. I was worried that I was the only one who noticed the sm-" she didn't get to finish before another bucket was dumped on her, Rory inhaling some and began coughing. Her hair fell in her face and she could barely see anything.

"Save the other two for later." The Joker called. Rory tried to blow her hair back but it still stuck to most of her face. She noticed that he was closer than before, and what it was that he was holding.

It was an old-looking crowbar, and he was waving it around with a large grin on his face. Rory knew what he was doing, and it wasn't going to end well.

"I want you to meet a friend of mine, I named it Robin. You know, after the brat I blew up? Apparently he didn't stay dead, and you got to meet him. Tell me, does he still remember me?"

Rory clenched her fist, he was changing tactics. The Joker had figured out that he couldn't break Rory by just hurting her, he had to hurt others to make her snap. "Yeah, I know him. You must be a real shitty clown if you couldn't kill a fifteen-year-old."

"I remember it well." he grinned and swung the crowbar, stopping it right before it hit her chest. "He was tied up much like you are, but without the chair. I remember the sound of each crack as I hit him with this same crowbar."

Rory's eyes didn't leave him. The Joker swung it again, tapping her on the stomach. "Crack."

He tapped her on the shoulder. "Crack."

He tapped her on the back. "Crack."

He tapped her on the back of the head. "Crack."

Rory closed her eyes, trying to keep the image of a young Jason out of her head. She didn't want to think of someone she cares about in that much pain, it hurt her to think of it. The anger was bubbling up inside her, Rory tried to keep it at bay but with every 'crack', it would rise higher and she was close to snapping.

She but her lip so hard to keep herself from yelling in anger, her lip was starting to bleed. Her heart was beating so hard, it made her ears pound and her breathing ragged. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to take the crowbar to him but she didn't.

The Joker could see that he was getting to her. "What? Too much?" he grinned.

Rory looked at him and gave him a glare. "Go to hell."

At her words, he began laughing. "You have more self-control than I gave you credit for, I can tell you want to do something to me. Come on, say it."

Rory stayed silent, she refused to say what she was thinking and give him what he wanted to hear. That he was starting to break her down, by threatening her family. "I said, go to hell."

This time, he didn't laugh. "You know, you should really do what you're told." The Joker backed up and Rory saw him grab something off a table that was attached to a cable. Following it, she saw that it let right to the puddle of water surrounding her, and right, where it touched the cord, was cut slightly.

Looking back at him she laughed. "You're going to electrocute me? That's the best you can do?"

Rory was good at masking the emotions in her voice, but it was her eyes that gave away what she really felt and she was terrified. She was covered and surrounded by water and was sat in a metal chair. Rory was a perfect conductor for electricity.

She watched as he pressed the button, Rory letting out a scream of pain. This was by far the worst pain she had felt, electrical shock coursed through her body making her twitch and scream wishing it would stop.

As soon as it came, it was gone. Rory dropped her head, panting softly as tears fell from her eyes. The water on her face covered it up some, but anyone could see that they were tears if they were close enough. Before she could even catch her breath, the pain was back and she started screaming again.

The Joker held the button for longer this time, letting it go a few seconds after the last time with a huge grin on his face. "Why don't you just kill me already," she muttered, her hair covering her face.

The Joker walked over and lifted her head up, Rory too tired to fight back. "Because that would be too easy." he then swung the crowbar and hit her fully in the stomach, making Rory gasp in pain making it impossible to breathe.

He hit her several times, satisfied as he heard her bones crack under the metal. After a moment he stopped, and Rory was minutes from falling unconscious. Walking back to the camera he turned it off and took the tape out. "Wonderful show darling, now be good and I might have a surprise for you tomorrow," he called.

Rory looked up slowly and watched as he headed towards the door. "I heard from a friend that you are close to a certain bat brat, maybe I should pay him a visit for you and bring some flowers as a gift." he grinned.

Her face drained from color. He was talking about Tim, Slade had told the Joker about her relationship with Red Robin and he was going to use it against her. "I swear if you hurt so much of a hair on his head-"

"You'll what, kill me?" he grinned. "That's what I'm hoping for." and he walked out, leaving Rory there alone with her thoughts.

*****

When Tim woke hours later, his head was throbbing. He sat up and rubbed his forehead trying to ease the pain, he was so exhausted that Jason was able to drug him and make him sleep. Deep down he knew that he did it for good reasons, but he had lost hours of his time that he could have spent looking for Rory.

He stretched with a yawn and looked at the clock, it was almost midnight and that meant that the others would be leaving for patrol soon. Getting up, Tim quickly noticed that he was in Jason's room. He must have put him there once he saw the condition Tim's room was it.

Rubbing his eyes, he left the room and shut the door behind him. Tim walked down to the kitchen and grabbed himself a cup of coffee and some cookies. There seemed to be a constant supply of cookies, Alfred was a stress baker. With Rory missing, Alfred was worried and spent his time making cookies. Tim could tell that Alfred was baking to try and calm his mind while trying to cheer everyone else up, and he loved him for it.

With his cup and cookies in hand, Tim walked down to the Batcave once again. "Jason, you ever sedate me again and I will find your copy of Shakespeare's works and drop it in a blender." When he got down to the cave, he saw that everyone was there talking.

Jason looked up from the gun he was cleaning and grinned. "Hello, sleep well babybird?" he grinned.

Tim frowned and threw a cookie at his head, drinking more coffee. "I mean it, you sedate me and I will blend your books."

"You touch my books and I will give your computer a bath." Jason threatened, cocking his gun in a threatening manner.

"Boys seriously?" Barbara asked, looking over at them from the computer. "Tim, don't touch his books. Jason, next time maybe just punch him unconscious. He would stay asleep longer."

Tim looked at her in shock, "Wow, that's cold Babs."

"You're the idiot refusing to sleep, next time I'll knock you out." she grinned, "But I am glad that you look better, you have some color to your cheeks and don't look like you belong in The Walking Dead."

"If anyone belongs there, it's Jay," Tim argued, Jason just simply rolling his eyes.

"That's so original Timbo, it's like I haven't heard every zombie joke in the book," he muttered and looked over at Bruce who just entered the cave.

"Tonight, we're going to do another sweep of the city. Tim, I need you to come so we can cover it in less time. Can I trust you to keep it together?" he asked, looking at the boy who was cradling a cup of coffee.

"You can count on me Bruce," he said, finishing his coffee. "I feel better and a little nicer, so I think I'll be okay."

Bruce gave him a nod. "I want you all to stick in pairs still, we don't know what's going on but I don't want someone else getting taken." Everyone gave him a nod.

"We leave in twenty, get your gear and anything else you need." and he walked away.

Bruce was going alone, so Damian paired with Dick and Tim paired with Steph, leaving Jason and Cass together. They were all about to get on their bikes to leave when they got a message with another video.

All the chatter stopped and they looked at each other, another video meant that she was alive right?

Barbara hesitated, but she hit play. Watching the video, Tim stayed behind her his eyes not leaving Rory. They all could see how weak she was, her hair was a mess and she looked tired, Tim was worried. He watched as they dumped two large buckets of water on her before the Joker came into focus with something in his hand.

Listening to him recount what had happened in the past, only pissed Jason off more. He could see Rory struggle to keep herself quiet, it hurt her to hear what had happened in gruesome detail but it hurt Jason more to watch her.

When he electrocuted her, he saw Tim blink away tears as he watched. Seeing this happen hurt Tim more than anything and that didn't sit right with Jason. No one hurt his family and got away with it.

"Why don't you just kill me already," she muttered, her hair covering her face.

The Joker walked over and lifted her head up, Rory too tired to fight back. "Because that would be too easy." he then swung the crowbar and hit her fully in the stomach.

The cup Jason was gripping, cracked and shattered in his hand as he watched the Joker beat Rory with the same crowbar he beat him with. Jason had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let anyone else fall to this fate, and yet here he was watching it.

When he stopped, they watched as he laughed while Rory trying to catch her breath and the screen cutting off after that. At the end of the video, they could see that Rory was beaten down physically and mentally. Her comments had stopped and she looked defeated.

With silence washing over them all, they knew what had to be done. Rory wasn't going to last much longer, they needed to find her and fast no matter what it took.

[ayatosmlktea]

Request: Can you do headcannons/scenario (your choice) with Hanji, Armin and Eren (separate) who has a s/o with quite bad depression and doesn’t take care of themselves properly? Like not eating enough, not having energy to shower etc

A/N: depression is a real bitch, I’m always here i ever needs someone to listen! Hope you like it!

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆, 𝑬𝒓𝒆�� 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏 𝑺/𝑶 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆

-Throughout the years Hanji has been in the Survey Corps she’s seen her fair share of her comrades go through phases of depression, it comes with the territory of what they do

-That’s why when she starts to notice her S/O slipping into depression she tries her best to make sure she’s giving them extra support

-You don’t wanna take a shower? Okay let’s do it together, her normally erratic self becomes surprisingly calm during these times

-She’ll gently wash their hair while murmuring words of comfort which might not cure whatever is making them hurt but she wants them to know that no matter what they go through she’ll always be there for them

-she’s the first thing they see when they wake up in the morning, brushing the hair out of their face and telling them she’s so grateful to be able to wake up next to them everyday

-getting dressed takes a bit longer than it usually does but she’s patient

-while her nature is usually frantic and excitable she understands that right now they need a stable foundation to calm whatever storm they’re fighting inside

-Hanji rarely leaves her lab to sleep and bathe let alone eat so when she joins her S/O in the mess hall it shows how dedicated she is to picking up the pieces of her partner

-this woman’s love runs so deep there’s no way it’ll run out for them

♡     ♡     ♡     ♡     ♡

𝑬𝒓𝒆𝒏

-hotheaded in nature Eren isn’t the type to get depressed and shut down so when they do he has a hard time understanding how to help them when all he knows how to do is get angry and fight through it

-at first he doesn’t take any notice of how they keep pushing their food around their plate but make no effort to eat, being too caught up arguing with jean

-it’s only when they stop coming to visit him at night when everyone’s asleep that he’s starts to pick up on things he hadn’t noticed before

-their skin lacked it’s usual youthfulness and glow

-their eyes looked empty and broken and they wouldn’t make any effort to make eye contact with anyone

-their cheeks were beginning to hollow from the lack of food

-it makes him angry

-how could they not take care of themselves?

-If there’s one thing about Eren that makes up for all the fights he gets into, it’s how passionately he cares about those around him -this boy is going to have enough energy for the two of them

-hauls their ass into the shower and spends a considerable amount of time peppering their face with kisses as he lovingly washes their neglected figure

-he feels guilty at not having noticed how thin they’d gotten

-“you have to take care of yourself Y/N! I need you with me, I can’t lose you too!”

-“just one more bite babe please! For me?”

-his puppy eyes are easy to succumb to

-he’s going to do his best to help you feel more like yourself even if it takes a bit of time

♡     ♡     ♡     ♡     ♡

𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏

-Armin is such a sweetheart

-he knows what it’s like to deal with depression

-especially after losing his grandfather in such a terrible way

-he won’t force them to do anything they don’t want to do but he will encourage them to take small steps

-like changing their clothes and then getting going back to the library to curl up by the fire while they listen to him read until they fall asleep

-the next day they take a shower

-smelling clean helps them feel more productive even if they haven’t accomplished much else

-not hungry enough to eat a whole baked potato? That’s okay, just try having half for now

-gradually their appetite comes back which makes him feel so proud of them

-maintaining a healthy state of mind is a hard thing to do in the survey corps, and finding the strength to pull yourself out of a deep depression is an even harder task

-but he’s there with them every step of the way

Masterlist

[copias-thrall]

The Band Onstage

Suey finally gets to go to a show 

(Start at the beginning)

*public sex; rough sex*

Tonight is Mary’s gig at Regency. You’d put it in your calendar, but Mary still had texted you this morning.

Mary [6:12am]: Rgcy 2nite 8

Mary [8:03am]: Guitr 6 pls

You wanted to make fun of him for forgetting the most important thing, but the only reason it’s here in the first place was so he could see you while getting in some extra play.

And it allowed you some extra play.

It’s definitely one of your horny days. No matter what you do, it seems like every position you sit in presses on your clit in a delicious way. You usually just take a nap on your lunch break, but today you’re really going to have to do something about the fact that your focus is throbbing between your legs.

At 11:59am, you slam your laptop shut and hurry into your room. It’s a veritable minefield as usual—Mary always complains about tripping over your outfit detritus (“Can you not tread all over my shit, please?!” “Christ, if you care about it so much, why is it on your floor!?”)—but it’s a controlled chaos. You rummage around for your vibrator, which could be anywhere (Mary has the tendency to just toss it when he’s done with you), but should be on your small table. Or next to your pillow. Perhaps under the bed.

After a hasty search, you finally find it when you shake out your duvet. You go to settle in—then think maybe some porn, too? Which means you have to go back out to your laptop. 

Ugh. Why is everything hard.

You shuffle back out to your living area and quickly get your viewing pleasure set up. The video starts, and you spread your legs, pressing the toy to your clit in morse code bursts. You’re just getting into it when—

bonk!

The neck of Mary’s guitar, which had been propped up on the other end of the couch, beans you in the temple.

“Ow, fuck!”

You set your vibe aside and, grumbling, begin to carefully maneuver his instrument out of the splash zone. You’re pretty worked up at this point—which will be your excuse to yourself later—so when your hand slides down the neck, you can’t help but think of the way Mary’s hands deftly manipulate it when he plays.

And, fuck—you love Mary’s hands.

Sliding your hand back up the neck, you pretend to be Mary pretending the guitar is you.

Doooown twang. Uuuuup, twang.

You hastily reach behind you and fumble around for your vibrator, pressing it in between your clenched thighs so you can grind against it as you stroke the guitar. Mary’s hands, hands on you, tongue in ear, on your neck, on your clit …

Fervently you rut against the buzzing toy, Mary’s guitar now clutched to you, as the stimulation finally sets you over the edge. You cry out—one hand shooting to grip at the couch cushion—as the continuous vibrations make you cum hard and then eke a demi-orgasm out of you before you can reach down to yank it away. You lie there for a minute—one hand still grasped around the guitar neck, the other pressed down on your cunt as you wait for the spasms to subside.

Taking in a deep breath, you stretch languorously … and notice how sticky you are now. Ugh—the crotch of your lounge pants is beyond hope, but you’re pretty sure you have a clean pair in one of the piles in your room. 

You extract yourself from the couch and begin to shimmy off your pants; you realize you’re still pretty slick—fuck, are you going to have to shower or will a baby wipe do?!—when your eye lands on Mary’s guitar, now prone on the couch. Your lips spread in an involuntary grin. Clambering back onto the couch, you straddle the guitar. Tentatively, you lower your pussy onto the strings and start to slide up the neck. 

Ok, you’re definitely going to need a shower.

It ends up feeling pretty weird, so you straighten back up, swipe your hand through your wet folds, and begin to smear that and what’s already on the strings the rest of the way up. You make sure to spread it out evenly all the way up, and—when you’ve exhausted what’s between your legs—you rub the crotch of your pants up and down the back. Only once you’re satisfied, do you climb off and gingerly take the instrument to secure in its case.

You decide to stretch out your lunch break—no sense showering now and then later. Turning on your email sound notifications, you hop into the shower, where you wash your hair with the good shampoo & conditioner and lose the fight against the patriarchy by shaving things.

A little bit of product in your hair, and you wrap yourself in an old, but comfortable robe. No use putting on clothes when you’re just going to take them off in a few hours!

You finish out the rest of your (long, boring) workday with minimal tantrums, though in your mind you’re already fucking Mary post show. Despite having already showered, you’re still running woefully behind to hand off Mary’s guitar to him at 6pm. You wrap your rain trench around you—you’d originally intended to wear your vintage one with the faux-fur collar, but you don’t want Mary seeing your outfit just yet—and head off to the club at a speed prance.

The door to the club isn’t locked, but when you wander in, it’s just a handful of staff—the bouncer leaning on the bar, the bartender counting his till, and some servers wiping down tables. The bouncer straightens.

“Doors at 7:30, honey.”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, “the band?”

“You can meet the band after, just like everybody else. For now ….” He starts to move in your direction, but then Mary appears—stiff and stomping towards you.

“What was it I said to you, Jimmy?” he snaps.  “I said ‘A girl with a guitar.’ Does she look like a groupie to you?”

Jimmy rolls his eyes and puts his hands up before sitting back down. Mary practically rips the case from your grasp.

“You’re late,” he hisses at you. “It’s nearly 6:30!”

“Well ‘hello’ to you too, asshole. I was working til half past 5.”

Mary puts down the case, opening to check the contents—as if you’d bring him an empty case. Satisfied, he snaps it back shut.

“I said 6 for a reason! Soundcheck is in 5, and now I’m gonna have to do tuneups on the fly. Maybe next time skip on the primping, ok?”

You flick his ear.

“Fuck, ow.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Don’t be fucking late then!”

You snap your fingers in front of his face.

“I’m sorry—am I the one who forgot his guitar? Am I the one who begged me to be here with cunnilingus?”

“Well, if you don’t wanna be here, then leave. No one’s fucking forcing you.”

You glare at him, then count to ten.

You go to squish his face between your hands, realize he’s in full corpse paint, and instead rest them on his shoulders

“LOOK at me.” He does, pouting and eyebrows furrowed—your grumpy skeleton. “I do want to be here … but if you disrespect me like that again, I’m fucking walking. I don’t deserve to be talked to like that. Am I understood, Gorrey boy?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says more sharply.

“Good,” you say, giving him a quick, light peck on the lips. “You’ll do great,” you say in quieter tones. 

“Thanks,” he says, leaning into you a bit. You push him away, playfully.

“Go! You have to go do soundcheck!”

He trundles off—muttering what sounds a lot like Pain in my ass—and when you look up you can see the hard eyes of the band on you from the platform stage. You form your hand into the bird and wave at them before sauntering out of the bar. With an hour to kill, you head to a cafe where you can nurse a tea and plug in your phone.

When 7:30 rolls around, you make your way back to the club. There’s a line, but when Jimmy sees you, he grins and waves you forward.

“You must have magic nipples or some shit to put ole’ Mary Goore in his place,” he says as he lets you in the club.

You wink at him. “They’re beer-flavored.” You hear him guffaw as you make your way in.

Now that the space is filled with people, it seems like a much bigger venue. It’s not at capacity yet, but there are enough patrons milling about for it to be lively. You luck out with a stool at the bar where you can easily see the stage. You shimmy out of your trench and grope around under the bar until you find a hook to hang it on.

You order a wheat beer from the bartender, who winks and tells you that the first one’s on the house. You beam in thanks, making a note to tip him extra when you settle up. As you sip your beer and do some people watching, you become aware of the two women sitting next to you. They’d been talking about “the band” (Mary’s is just the first opener) since you sat down, but you only tune in when it becomes clear they’re discussing Mary’s band.

“… totally slaps, of course, but they’re all so hot,” says the redhead with blond streaks framing her face.

“Ugh, right? But the lead guitarist especially can step on me,” says the bottled black-haired one with red lowlights.

Oh, you think, that’s Mary. It’s not like you don’t know Mary has fangirls. You’re not even particularly bothered by it—but reading comments on the internet is viscerally different than encountering it in the wild. It’s just: surreal.

You scoot your stool a little closer to the women.

“Hello? Hi. Yes, I’m sorry—but I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. That’s who I’m here to see too.”

You mean the band, but Black Hair says, “Oh! So you’re a Dead Girl, too?”

You squint. “I’m a …?”

Red Hair chortles. “Did you just get into them, then?”

“I—”

“I mean … they’re all hot, 10/10,” sighs Black Hair, “but ‘Dead Girls’ are Mary’s—that’s the lead guitarist—girls.”

Before you can say anything, Red Hair leans in conspiratorially.

“But don’t get your hopes up—I heard he’s got a girlfriend.”

Black hair tilts her head back and rolls it back and forth “Why. So unfair.”

You hide a smile behind your hand, wondering if you should say anything. Maybe you can get Mary to sign their … whatevers. 

Red Hair pats her arm and leans in to stage whisper, “Don’t worry—I heard she’s fat and ugly. I’m sure you have a chance.”

“Ugh, why do they always go for the fat chicks? Is their self-esteem that low?”

“He probably feels obligated to her or something. Doesn’t know he’s got options now.”

Their casually cruel description of you leaves you stunned and feeling cold for a minute. And ok—your arms aren’t the firmest and maybe spanx are a lost cause

—which is as far as you get before you remember that you’re actually awesome and that this particular self-loathing train lost the caboose full of fucks a long time ago. 

You scoot even closer to the women.

“Do you want to know something?”

The two of them look at you expectantly, heads tilted.

“It’s just—I know who his girlfriend is, and she’s such a bitch.”

You have their attention now, and they bring their stools in, too.

“Really?”

“Do tell!”

“OMG,” you say. “You are way skinnier, um … ?”

“Molly,” says Black Hair Molly.

“Katrina,” says Red Hair Katrina.

“Suey,” you say, introducing yourself with Mary’s pet name for you.

“So, what’s the tea?” asks Molly.

“Well … she thinks she’s amazing, and she bosses him around like whoa. I don’t think his bandmates like her very much.”

“Ooo,” squeals Katrina, “the salt!”

“Oh shit!” exclaims Molly. “Is she here?”

You exaggeratedly scan the room. “Hmm. I don’t see her in the crowd.

“So you think I have a chance?”

You scan her up and down, as if appraising. 

“You can give it a shot.”

Katrina and Molly look at each other and start giggling.

Suddenly the lights dim, and everyone screams as Mary’s band takes the stage. The lead singer introduces them, yelling, and they dive into their first song. You don’t get to say much to the women after that—Mary’s band is loud, and some of the die-hard fans are screeching along in unison. 

You’re not sure, but you think you can see Mary searching for you. You suddenly curse your spot at the bar. About 15 minutes in, however—as the lead singer is introducing the band members—Mary finally looks over your way. You give a small wave and he locks eyes with you; you give him the middle finger and suck it into your mouth seductively.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond before it’s his introduction, and he’s playing a complicated riff.

“OMG. Was he looking at us?”

“He was totally looking at us!”

You roll your eyes and turn around to order another beer. 

Their set lasts about 45 minutes before they’re thanking the crowd and packing up their gear. The bigger bands will have roadies, but Mary and his bandmates have only themselves and the techs from the venue to rely on, so you know you’re in for a bit of a wait. Katrina and Molly are clapping and screaming their heads off, which—you can’t fault them for. People should appreciate Mary’s band.

“Do you think they’ll come out and mingle?” asks Molly.

“They’ll have to if they have a merch table,” says Katrina.

“Should we go wait there, or … ?”

“Just chill for a bit. You don’t want to seem so thirsty! Hit them up after the initial rush when they’re bored.”

Way sooner than he should be, you see Mary stalking over to you. You can hear the excited utterances of the women next to you as he comes close, but they fade into the background as Mary crowds into your space, leaving no room for the Holy Ghost. You gasp as he winds his hand into your hair.

“Fuck. Look at you,” he murmurs into your lips. “Look at this tight little number you’re wearing—I might have to ruin it later.” You’re wearing an electric blue halter dress with a neck collar. Your tits need a little help staying up these days, so instead of being backless, the lace of your razor bra is showing.

He steps back. “And what the fuck are these?” he says as he runs a hand up your stockings and under your dress. You’re wearing dark blue, wide-net tights that have felt flowers sewn on. They were a present from a college friend one Christmas, so they have a few holes due to the passage of time and chub rub—but you just tell people that makes them punk rock. 

When his hand brushes between your legs, he feels your naked cunt. The pièce de résistance of your ensemble is a pair of crotchless panties you have on that were a gag party favor from an anti-Valentine’s soirée a friend-of-friend had thrown.

“Oh shit.” He crowds in close again and spins you 180º so that he’s between you and the bar. His finger traces your slit. “You make me so hot, do you know that?”

He takes your hand and presses it to the growing bulge of his crotch.

“Do you feel that? Do you feel how hot you make me?” He leans down to bite your neck as his finger slips between the lips of your cunt. Your head lolls to the side and you catch eyes with Katrina and Molly, who are quiet and looking pale.

Oh. Right.

You smile at them. “Such. A. Bitch,” you say at them.

Mary brings his head up, one hand still fingering you. “What?”

You smirk at him. “I was telling Kat and Molly over there that your ‘fat and ugly’ girlfriend is a fucking bitch.”

He looks over, seeming to notice them for the first time. He doesn’t even falter.

“She fucking is,” he says as he pulls his hand from your cunt and outstretches it toward them as if to shake their hands. “Hi.”

They don’t answer. They don’t return the gesture.

“No? Ok.”

He turns back to you and puts his other hand on your neck.

“You put your fucking pussy all over my guitar.” He squeezes a little. “I’m supposed to be doing fucking soundcheck and tuning my strings and shit, and the only thing I can think about is how much my instrument smells like sex with you.” 

He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, little girl.” 

To them he says, “Excuse me. I have to go fuck the shit out of my girlfriend now.”

As he’s pulling you down the back hall, you look over your shoulder to wink at Katrina and Molly. Mary follows your gaze.

“Thanks for coming out!” he yells back. “Buy a t-shirt!”

His grip around your wrist is insistent—sure to leave a bruise—as he leads you into the greenroom.

A chorus of “Mary, where were you?” and “Mary, what the fuck” ring out as he maneuvers you through the room. You grimace at them as Mary all but pushes you into the adjacent bathroom. He locks the door behind you and ignores the banging and shouts behind it.

“Come here,” he demands.

You move, but not fast enough to satisfy him, so he grabs your arm to pull you to him. He licks his lips before diving down to assault your mouth. You open readily for him as his tongue shoves its way in. He tastes like his bitter makeup.

“I’ve been on edge for goddamned hours because of you,” he says when he comes up for air. “Our big gig,” he continues as he molds your pliant body stomach down and sideways over the sink, “and I have to spend our entire fucking set smelling your juice on my guitar.”

You giggle and look over your shoulder at him. “You’re welcome.”

He rucks up your dress and gives your ass a swat. You gasp, and he swats you twice more.

“You fucking bitch,” he says, but there’s no heat to it.

He drapes himself over you and mouths at your ear.

“Tell me I can fucking have you,” he snarls as he ruts against you. “Tell me I get to fuck you now.”

You turn your head again, straining to have your lips touch his.

“Fuck me, Goore,” you rasp.

Magic words spoken, he’s spreading your legs wider and ripping another hole in your stockings. You hear him as he fumbles to undo his belt buckle and drag down his zipper—and then he’s pushing into you without preamble. You gasp at the sudden intrusion as he breathes an Oh fuck into your skin. He wraps one arm around your middle and the other he braces against the wall as he begins to pound into you.

You scrabble at the wall for leverage as you squirm to find the right angle. Mary doesn’t let up at all.

“You feel so good. So tight, so wet. Fuck, is this what you wanted? Me half-crazed out of my mind?”

Well yeah, you think, something like. What comes out of your mouth is a long moan, and you squeeze your muscles hard around him.

“Shit, fuck!” he cries out as he almost stutters to stop. You push back into him, your clit throbbing and desperate for pressure. 

“You asked for it,” he growls, He grabs the meat of your hips—fingers digging into your love handles—and begins to slam himself into you faster and faster. The new angle is hitting your G-spot deliciously and you cry out,

“Oh fuck, yes Mary—RIGHT THERE DON’T STOP.”

He’s making little grunting noises as he slams into you, and you know you’re going to be pretty sore later—but right now you’re trying desperately to get a hand between your legs so you relieve the heavy pressure pooling between your legs.

He’s wheezing when he says, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum. Ughn, take it, bitch.” And then he thrusts into so hard he hits your cervix and you cry out. He’s growling Uhn uhn uhn as he empties into you, thrusts slowing. When he’s done, he drapes over you, kissing behind your ear. The shift  stings a little, and you flinch slightly.

“Shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, as he straightens up and eases his soft cock out of you, petting down your back.

You turn your head so he can hear you. “Maybe a little?” you say. “But I’ll forgive you if you finish me off.”

He complies quickly, sprawling under you so he can lap at you with his tongue while a finger gently enters you and presses at your G-spot. You let out a loud, shaky moan at the sudden dual sensation—you’re still pretty worked up and you see bursts behind your eyes. He works you up to a full precipice—while you clutch against the sink and pant into your arms—until your climax sparks and breaks. You clench around his finger, and your pussy pops against his relentlessly flicking tongue. 

He slows down when your body slumps and you start twitching at the feeling of his tongue on your now oversensitive nub; then he wraps himself around one of your legs—stroking your inner thighs—as he waits for you to come down from your orgasmic high. When you do, he stands up and peels you off the sink. After that, the two of you hurriedly clean each other up—there’s a green room full of annoyed people bitching at you through the door, after all. 

“Hey,” he says as you allow him to kiss the back of your neck. “I’m in so much shit. I really need to pull my weight with the equipment … but I’ll see you back out there in a bit?

You turn to kiss him; his paint is smeared all to hell, which means it’s probably all over you. Smoothing down your dress, you spin around with arms wide.

“Do I look like I lost a fight with the makeup section of Hot Topic?”

He snorts. “You do, actually,” he says while crowding into you. “But don’t ask me to clean it off. I want everyone to know who fucked you.”

You push him away. “You’re fucking gross, Goore.”

He gives you a vulpine smile. “You adore it.” 

(You do.)

You steel yourself to the walk of shame through the greenroom—more than just Mary’s bandmates are in there—putting on a devil-may-care attitude like a cloak. Head held high, you leave the bathroom, smirking at the men particularly like the cat who got creamed. There’s some eye rolling, a few wolf-whistles, and an ironic slow cap. A woman in another group raises her hand up, and you high-five it, before spinning around to curtsey as you leave the room.

When you get back to the bar, the two women are gone and there’s someone in your spot. You make your apologies as you retrieve your stuff, and you order another beer for yourself and a whiskey shot + chaser for Mary, before settling your tab. The next band has been playing for a bit and your beer is half empty by the time Mary and his bandmates materialize again. They’re smiling and talking to the fans who begin to mob them. Mary shakes a few hands and signs a few CDs before making a beeline to you.

“You’re a mess,” he says as you hand him his drinks. He shoots the whiskey immediately, slamming the shot glass down onto the bar.

“Well, someone, got impatient,” you retort.

He leans in close. “Can you blame me? Fuck. What did you do to my guitar. I should be pissed.”

“I did exactly what you think I did. Got hot thinking of you, decided to show my appreciation.”

“Fuck,” he rumbles in your ear. His free hand starts to slip up your thigh again. “Do you wanna—”

He’s interrupted when one of his bandmates comes over.

“Christ, Mary. Leave the poor girl alone for a second. We gotta man the merch table. Amps don’t pay for themselves.”

Mary sighs, his hand slipping from under your dress to around your waist.

“C’mon,” he says as he leads you to their table with his very put upon-looking bandmates. He arranges you on his lap, much to their consternation.

“The girls are our biggest fans, Mary! We need to keep up the fantasy that we’re available!”

“She should be with the other girlfriends!”

“I don’t give a shit,” Mary spits. “This isn’t a fucking K-pop group. They can deal with us having actual lives. If they only like our image, then what’s the point?”

You’d wanted to beg off at first—feeling a little like ornamentation for all to see—but you’re pretty pliant from the beer and the orgasm, so you let Mary keep you where you are. You have a few more shots and lite beer chaser as the night wears on, and you get into joking around with their fans and even one or two of his other band members—your ribald humor fits right in. You’re well into a lengthy discussion with the woman from the greenroom about pockets when Mary taps your arm for your attention.

“We’re gonna pack it in for tonight, Suey.”

“Ok. Do you wanna head back to mine, or … ?

 Mary sighs. 

“We’re apparently having a ‘band meeting,’ so I might not be able to tonight … but tomorrow?”

You feel a stab of disappointment before pushing it down. “No, I get it. Duty calls.” You lean down to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to go home and touch myself while thinking about you. I want you to think about that later when you’re alone.”

His hand squeezes your thigh hard.

“Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says softly.

The next morning when you wake, you check your phone to find that you have a text from Mary: it’s a blurry picture of his half-hard cock drooling cum. You text him back full of praise.

When you get yourself set up for the day on your laptop, your first order of business is to make a folder entitled “SueysSpankBankFodder” next to Mary’s.

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

[alltheredshirtsaredead]

STAN (NEARLY) TAKES A BATH

⚠️T/W contains self harm and stan being a sad boi⚠️

They are all adults in this

Bev's pov

I was at Richies after a night out richie was a bit tipsy and I was fine. I didnt bring spare clothes someone spilt their drink on me while we were out so richie threw one of his obnoxiously bright shirts at me,

"Thanks," I laughed putting it on. Richie went to have a shower and I put the kettle on and poured myself a cup of tea. I put on Netflix and watch any random show not really paying attention. My phone started to ring and startled me, I looked down and stanley was calling me.

"Hey stan!" I answer cheerfully, a worn down Stan who look completely defeated with life looked back at me. Big black circles under his eyes and he weakly smiled at me,

"Hi bev, is that richies shirt," he asks and laughs a clearly fake laugh,

"Yeah I had to borrow one...Stan are you ok," I ask concerned, the line was quiet for a little bit when he sighed and answered,

"Bad night," he smiles a little,

"Well we all have bad nights stan just talk to us ok?" I tell him reassuringly and he nods a little, "so what's up," I ask again.

"....you guys um...like me right," he replied quietly messing with the cuffs of his sweater,

"Of course we do, Stan we love you, why would you ever think that," I ask feeling upset that our boy felt like that. He was quiet for a long time,

"Stan? Stan, I'm gonna get richie and we're gonna pick up bill, Eddie and mike and we're gonna come over ok?" I tell him,

"No, no you dont have to do that I'm ok honest," he stammered out very quickly,

"No stanley you need people around you," I tell his desperately,

"Bev it's late I dont want to bother the others eddie will be annoyed I woke him up this late," he says quietly,

"No stan eddie will not care, he cares more about you than missing a few hours sleep I can guarantee, I dont care how late it is, Ben's out of town though so he cant come I'm sorry," I tell him and he nods weakly, "stanley uris promise me you will be ok until we get there," I say getting a but upset, he nods weakly and hangs up.

"Shit," I say quietly, "Rich get out the shower we need to go to stan," I shout running up the stair and knocking on the bathroom door. Richie opens,

"Why is he ok, what's happened, bev," he says frantically,

"I'll explain in the car just get dressed and get in." I have to say I have never seen richie get ready so fast because in 10 minutes he was dressed and in the car,

"We'll get eddie, bill and mike first and then face time Ben and I'll explain then ok?" I tell him and he nods anxiously. 3 phone calls later the boys were informed and in 20 minutes they piled into the back seat and we got Ben on the phone,

"Bev? Is everything alright?" A tired looking ben answered,

"Sorry for waking you honey but this is important it's about stan, we're all in the car," I tell him and he nods looking worried they all do, "stan had a nightmare i presume and he phoned me asking if we liked him and he was very distant and you know what's happened before I want to be there this time," I tell them all, eddie and ben look worried shitless, "w-when did he call," Bill stammered out anxiously, "bout half hour ago," I reply,

"Ok guys I'm coming home right now I'll see you in an hour or so," ben tells us and we all nod.

"Call him, bev call stan," ben says and hangs up.

Richie types in the number while I'll drive and stan answers, hes in the bathroom but hes leaving quite hurriedly.

"Stan, darling, bird, we love you so so much we could never tell you how much we love you ok," richie says completely out of character. Hes not the jokey annoying comedian, hes the worried boyfriend,

"Stan say something," eddie says,

"Hi," stan says quietly, "I'm sorry guys I didnt want to wake you I dont know why I called I'm sorry," stan sounds broken,

"Stan dont be ridiculous, we are here for you 24 hours a day and 7 days a week," Bill tells him and we all nod in agreement,

"You should go, bev it's not safe to drive while on the phone," he said softly,

"No stan no dont hang up," I say frantically.

He hangs up.

"Shit bev how fast can u go," eddie says,

"I'm goning as fast as possible now, we're nearly there now," I reasure him.

Time skip

We all get out the car, I check the time, ben should be here in half an hour ish. Bill knocks on the door. You can here stan walking down his stairs and unlocking the door.

"Stan," we all sigh in relief when he opens the door.

We go to hug him and richie grabs his wrist to pull him close to us and he hisses quietly in pain. My face drops and we all go silent.

Stans pov

Not only have I dragged my partners out of their homes this late at night but now they know what I did. I'm a terrible boyfriend,

"Sorry," I whisper quietly the only one speaking. They all come inside bev and mike goes and makes a space for all of us to sleep, richie and bill start to make food and Eddie takes me to the bathroom.

Eddie's POV

We get to the bathroom. On the counter by the sink theres a dismantled razor with a bit of blood on one of the blades. Stan sees it and looks guilty and his breathing gets uneven. I sit him down on the side of the bath and sit next to him. I put my hands on the sides of his face were his scars were from that summer long ago and kiss him gently,

"Were not mad, ok, we love you, so what you need a little more help then the rest of us we will support you stan," I tell him and he nods I have no idea whether he believes a single thing I say.

"Can you take you sweater off?" I ask, he hesitates looking down again,

"If you dont let me clean them they could get infected and you dont want to end up in the hospital," I say soothingly, he nods and slowly takes his sweater off. There are 5 thin deep lines across his forearm, there deep but not deep enough to need stitches. I grab the first aid box from the medicine cabinet and take out some alcohol wipes,

"This might sting a little bit," I tell him and wipped gently over the cuts, his face remained the same, I bandaged his arm up and kissed his wrist.

"Hows your other arm?" I ask taking his other hand and looking, there was only one not as deep or as long one. I did the same to that arm and put his sweater in the wash.

"Do they hurt?" I ask him, he shakes his head I assume hes still running on the adrenaline.

"You must tell me if if you start to feel dizzy or feel like your gonna black out ok," I tell him and nods. I kiss the top of his head take his hand and we go downstairs. He grabs another sweater but I stop him, "stan give them some air ok?" He nods. The doorbell rings and stan goes to answer it,

"Ben? But your big job project," he says confused, hes right ben should be out of town for another week,

"Your more important," ben tells him. I assume ben picked him up because stan softly says,

"Hey...put me down," and ben replies with a laugh. Stan is carried in to his living room bridal style with stans head resting against his chest looking embarrassed with a red tint to his face. I whisper to ben,

"Be careful of his arms if they dont stop bleeding hes going to have to go to hospital," ben nods looking sad, last time stan went to the hospital he was admitted to a phyc ward and he didnt enjoy it. Ben sat in the middle on the couch with stan on his lap leaning against his chest. I sat down next to ben and put my arm over stan.

Mike's pov

Once me and bev set up a space were all 7 of us could sleep comfortably we came downstairs and was greeted by the smell of pizza and 3 of our boys curled up on the couch,

"Hiya ben," bev greeted him and sat on the other side of him she put her head on Ben's shoulder and put her hand in stans hair. I sat next to bev and wrapped my arm around her middle. The house was fairly quiet until

"AH SHIT!"

"Rich what did u do," a exhausted sounding bill sighed from the kitchen,

"The slices aren't even now someone's gonna had a massive piece," he laughed,

"Richie it's fine come on," bill laughed as well as they carried pizza and some garlic bread into the living room. There was an untangle of limbs and we all got food. Someone switched the telly on and we watched the news and ate quietly. Richie sat next to Eddie and bill next to richie. Stan ate very little only picking at his food and no one really forced him to eat.

Time skip

Stans pov

After they finished eating ben and beverly cleaned up and the rest of them just came closer to me and I didnt understand why. They were amazing and unique so charismatic and yet the say they love me. I lay against Mike's chest and eddie threw his arm over me. I felt so guilty, bev and richie were having a good night before I called and mike and bill were relaxing, eddie was asleep and ben had a big thing with his job and I ruiened it all. Tears poured down my face and mike just held me close. Richie said, "come on let's get to bed you guys head up I'll get bev and ben." Mike picks me up. I was too tired to complain I just didnt care anymore. We headed upstairs, eddie following close behind us. We got into the biggest room in my house were bev and mike had pushed together two mattresses and there were loads of pillows and blankets. Mike put me in the middle of the bed. I sat up,

"Eddie can u get me some pain killers?" I ask softly noticing the pain sinking in, in my arms, he nodded and went down stairs, bill came up next and got into bed he laid next to me and i put my head on his chest and his hands raked through my curls. Mike got in next pressing his chest to Bill's back and wrapping his arms round Bill's middle. Eddie came back up with the pain killers and a glass of water which I took gratefully,

"Thanks," I smiled a little and eddie smiled back. Richie came and got in next to me on the other side pulling me close to his chest eddie joined richie from behind and ben and bev squished themselves onto the end.

"I'm sorry that you all dragged yourself away from what you were doing just because of me," I say sadly I still feel like shit.

"Dont be ridiculous, we love you so much, ok, we couldn't imagine a life without you, we were so worried," Bev tells me. So they thought I was gonna try and end it all again, that wasn't the intention.

"Oh," I say feeling even worse cos I made them all worry. "I dont want to go back to sleep," I say quietly blinking back tears and trying to keep my breathing calm. "Dove it's ok to cry and you dont have to go to sleep but just stay here with us alright," bill tells me twisting one of my curls round his finger and pressed a kiss to my temple. Fat, hot tears fell down my face as I silently cried. Bill continued to play with my hair and richie drew Patterns on the top of my back and going up and and down my spine making me shiver a little which made him laugh a little. Witch in results made everyone smile a little. After a few minutes my crying stopped and we all lay if a perfect sleepy mess of limbs. I was desperately fighting sleep trying to stay awake.

"I love you stan," bev say

"I love you stan the man," richie smiles

"Love you stan," ben

"I love you stanley," bill whispers in my ear

"I love you stan your so strong," eddie

"I love you stan," mike.

I smiled a little,

"I love you guys too, so so much," I say tiredly

Bill's POV

I cradled stan and brushed my fingers through his hair. Ironically he was the first to fall asleep probably worn out from stress. I kiss his forehead and light snores come out of him. "Cute," I whisper.

"Is he asleep?" Ben asks, and I nod still admiring the sleeping man in my arms,

"Eddie how bad were they..." bev asks, eddie sighs a little,

"They were deep if we hadn't got here when we did he would of had to go back into hospital," he says sadly and we all just share a sad look and look down on the broken sleeping man.

"I just want him to be happy," richie sighs out sadly stroking the side of his face,

"I know, we all do, the best thing we can do is support him and be there for him when he needs us," I say. We're all quiet for a while all of just looking at stan,

"We should all get some sleep we've all had a tiring day we can talk to him tomorrow," mike suggested and we all agreed,

"Goodnight losers," ben said and we all nonchalantly say night in response. From there we all fell into a dreamles sleep

[maidenof-thesea]

Snakes & Butterflies | Part VI

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (Maybe, still debating)

Words: 2.9

Warning: minor swearing

Note: Part 6 is finally here!! I just finished last night, and I was debating in what direction I wanted to go with this story and I think I finally found a flow. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged so that you guys can be notified right away when I post. I would do a calendar but life is always hectic even when you try to stick to the schedule. Hope you enjoy and I hope you guys are having an amazing week so far. Lots of love <3

Reminder: * conversations in Korean *

The boys, minus Jungkook, who went out for a run, slept the day away while Rosa and I worked on cleaning the kitchen and living room. It was already well past noon, they must have been really jet lagged. In spite of that, Jin apparently had done a lot more than wash the dishes last night.

“Did you clean?” Rosa asked, her voice thick with confusion.

“No,” I said, shrugging. It wasn’t exactly a lie but I would have to talk to Jin later so that Rosa wouldn’t notice. “Um they should have some laundry if you want to get started on that?”

“No it won’t be enough for a full load,” She replied, rubbing her hair out of her face. “Should I help you set up for tonight?”

“No, that's okay,” I replied, handing her her jacket. “You can go home for today.”

“I feel like I didn’t do much..”

“That’s okay, Rosa,” I said smiling as I walked her to her car. “We have a whole two months to go.”

“Okay then,” she said as she got on to her car. “See you next time!”

I waved and as she pulled out, Jungkook was approaching the house in a slow jog. He waved at Rosa who waved back enthusiastically. She liked Jungkook a lot. And like my mother she referred to him as a bunny, much to his delight. I wait for him to come up to the porch and I hand him a water bottle from a pack we had stored near the front door since we were both too lazy to take it all the way into the house.

“Thanks Noona,” he said, opening the bottle and taking a chug of water. “So you know that cop that lives down the road?”

“Yea, Mr. Chang” I replied as I sat down on the patio chair. “Did you tell him about last night?”

“Yea,” he said as he sat next to me untying his shoes. “I figured since he’s also the head of the neighborhood watch, I should report it to him.”

“What did he say?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“The works,” Jungkook sighs. “‘We’ll keep an eye, but technically no laws were broken and we can’t prove they were stalking us blah blah,’”

“Don’t worry, Kookie,” I said pointing to the camera. “I won’t let any of those crazy beach girls touch you.”

“Noona,” Jungkook said with a slight blush but his tone was also stern. “This isn’t a joke, this is serious.”

“Kookie-”

“He’s right Y/N,” a voice said and as I turned around Taehyung was leaning against the front door. His hair was tied back into a man bun and his face looked freshly washed and dewy. I should ask for his skincare routine. “You could have a stalker.”

“Doubt it,” I said with a small smile. I spent my whole life hiding on the sidelines. I made sure to blend in so that no one noticed me. “I appreciate the concern but trust me no one would want to stalk me, I’m no one. Most likely it was not-”

“Why would you say that?” Taehyung interrupts with a hint of annoyance. “You’re precious to someone, you should value yourself more.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interjected his tone pleading. “Let’s go eat some breakfast hmm?” He began to push Taehyung inside. He smiled sheepishly at me in apology and they both went in leaving me confused outside. 

You’re precious to someone 

No one has ever said that to me. It was another first. I didn’t know how it made me feel, but I couldn’t help the tears that began to burn in my eyes. I had been crying too much lately. Yuki then made her way outside almost as if she sensed my turmoil and she nudged her way into my lap. 

“I guess you find me precious right baby?” I said smiling, wiping my tears. I began to pet her and she immediately purred and stretched her legs. “That’s already two times someone has called me out on my bull huh?”

“What bull?” Yoongi said joining me on the porch, making me jump in surprise. Yuki then hissed and ran off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or your cat.”

“That’s okay,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee that he handed me. “Thank you.”

He sat down and started to drink his coffee. I sat looking down at the coffee, letting it warm up my hands and I couldn’t help but feel a bit touched. From what I can remember Jungkook telling me about him, Yoongi seemed a little rough around the edges but he really was a softball, especially around Hoseok.

“Where’s Hoseok?” I asked, bringing the cup to my lips.

“In the shower,” He replied. “You can call him Hobi, he likes that better, Hoseok feels too serious to him.”

“Oh okay,” I replied and once again it was silent. 

“What bull were you talking about?” He says with a hint of curiosity.

“Oh,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “Nothing really, just something I’m working out.”

“Oh,” he replied, almost dejected, which made me feel a bit bad. “Well you can always talk to me you know?”

“Oh,” I said once more, feeling a bit touched again. “I didn’t expect you guys to be so caring towards me..”

“Well,” Yoongi said smiling and ruffling my hair. “Must be because you’re cute.”

“Stop,” I pouted and he only laughed and pinched my cheek. Heat spread onto my cheeks and I sat still. For some reason he reminded me of my father, but from what I could remember my father hardly showed any affection towards me. “Yoongi…can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” He said, re positioning himself so that he faced me fully. “What’s up?”

“Before Hos- I mean Hobi-and you met..” I said not meeting his eyes. “Was there ever a time that you may have thought you would never meet? Or did you guys meet each other when you were young?”

“We met when we were young,” Yoongi replied with a small smile. “I struggled a lot with coming to terms with the fact that my soulmate was a man as well, you see my parents weren’t the most supportive in the beginning..”

“Oh,” I said nodding in understanding. A part of me can sympathize with him in that aspect. “How-”

“Did I overcome that?” Yoongi finished for me. “Hobi. He was always patient and he was always there for me even when I wouldn’t accept it at first. It was hard for him too.”

So his Soulmate helped him value himself more.

“Why do you ask?” Yoongi questioned and when I glanced at him, I had his full attention. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not really,” I replied with a shrug. “Just trying to figure out how to value and love myself more.”

“Self-love is important,” He said nodding. “Self value, however, is more behavioral than emotional. You can ask Joon since he’s more philosophical than me but I know that much..”

“Hyung,” A deep raspy voice said from the porch causing both me and Yoongi to jump in surprise. Jimin stood at the door with the sweater I was wearing last night on. He regarded us with unreadable eyes. “Hobi-hyung is looking for you.”

Yoongi then patted my clasped hands and smiled at me and got up to leave. Jimin stood there for a bit staring at the spot next to me. He took one step and I bolted right up. I grabbed Jungkook’s forgotten shoes and made my way inside, leaving Jimin to stand there alone. For some reason, I felt a sense of shame creep up on me, as if I was caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.

I placed Jungkook’s shoes in the shoe rack and made my way into the kitchen to wash my now empty cup. Once I was in the kitchen, Jin was already at the stove frying himself an egg and Jungkook and Taehyung were playing Xbox while Namjoon had AirPods on and was reading something on his phone. Yoongi and Hobi were nowhere to be seen, they must be upstairs.

“Oh,” Namjoon said, taking his AirPods off once he noticed me preparing to wash the dishes in the now full sink. “Hey so I had a question.”

“Shoot,” I said with a smile, rolling my sleeves up. From my peripheral I could see that Jimin had now entered the kitchen. 

“So I remember that we choose the option of tourism when booking our stay here, so does that mean we can go to museums and whatnot?”

“Of course,” I said, opening the dishwasher to start placing clean dishes to dry. “What did you have in mind? I was gonna wait till breakfast was over to ask if you guys were up for any-.”

“Excuse me,” Jimin said as he reached for a cup from the cabinet. The cabinet that happened to be on top of the sink. The sink where I was currently washing dishes. My mind went haywire while my body went completely still. Jimin’s chest was only pressed against my back for only a couple of seconds but it felt like eternity. His breath ruffled the top of my hair, his cologne made my mind go fuzzy. And almost in an instant he was pulling away, already opening the fridge. However I didn’t recover as fast as the encounter lasted.

“I know Jin-hyung wants to take pictures at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art but I was wondering if the Crocker Art Museum is worth the drive…” Namjoon rambled on not really noticing my state. 

“Yea,” I agreed with a slight shiver, turning off the faucet and drying off my hands. Once I turned around Jimin was appraising me with a slight smirk, and my breath got caught in my throat. “Nam-Namjoon, we could always go a different day, maybe plan an early drive-”

“Your car isn’t big enough though,” Namjoon said rubbing his head. 

“Namjoon, remember we said we would rent a SUV?” Jin interjected and Namjoon’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I believe Hobi already called the place the airport recommended, we just have to go sign the papers and what not.”

“Oh that saves a lot of time,” I said, rubbing my arms and avoiding Jimin’s eyes, that have yet to leave me. “Do you need me to drive you there Namjoon?”

“Hyung, doesn’t drive yet,” Jimin said. “I could go-”

“Wait!” Taehyung said running into the kitchen. “If Jimin’s going I want to go!”

“Where are we going Noona?” Jungkook asked following Taehyung, who slammed a surprised Jimin into a hug. 

“Um, I’m not going anywhere yet,” I said quickly walking past the sandwich that Jimin and Taehyung were starting to look like. Taehyung must have been a koala in the past life. “I’m gonna get ready, you can drive them there.”

                                      Jungkook

*

“Okay!” I said, smirking at Jimin, who seemed a bit annoyed. “What’s the matter hyung?”

Instead of answering, Jimin took a quick glance at y/n who was now being hugged excitedly by Hobi-hyung. Both me and Taehyung rolled our eyes and started to drag him out and a little whine escaped from Jimin. Once Y/N was out of his sight, Jimin almost looked like he snapped out of a trance. 

“You okay there hyung?” I asked once more while Taehyung ran ahead to Y/N’s Jeep, calling shotgun, almost as if he was giving Jimin space.

“Why do I still feel drawn to her?” Jimin whispered almost as if he could hardly believe it himself. “I could hardly sleep last night…”

“Well I’m sure the hyungs could help us understand more,” I said rubbing his arm. “Namjoon’s family has the archives that could maybe tell us more but we could only do that if you feel comfortable with us knowing.”

“That’s the only way I’m gonna get answers huh?” Jimin said entering the backseat of the car. When he glanced at Taehyung, he continued once he saw that he had headphones on. “Do you think with time, she’ll remember me more?” 

“To be honest, hyung,” I said starting the Jeep. “I find it strange that she can’t remember as well, is that one of the affects of her reje-”

“Okay I got a playlist ready!” Taehyung cheered as he grabbed Y/N’s aux cord. “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!” I said to Taehyung as I looked at Jimin in the rear view mirror, he seemed to be lost in thought. 

Once we arrived at the car rental place, Jimin went in to pay for the rental, mostly because he spoke more English than Taehyung. Jin’s parents were basically the ones paying for everything, it helps that they own the most luxurious restaurant in Seoul. Too bad Jin wants to be a chef instead of managing the restaurant.

“That card has been there since you came to pick us up that day at the airport,” Taehyung muttered looking at the front window. He was right, there was a card. I hadn’t noticed it before. I reached as best as I could to grab it but before I could graze it with my fingers, Jimin grabbed it.

“Who is Lee Minho?” Jimin muttered with a furrow in his brow. I shrugged and so did Taehyung when Jimin looked at him. “That’s a Korean name…”

“Must be someone Noona knows,” Taehyung said, causing Jimin and I to raise our eyebrows. “What?”

“She’s only two months older than you,” Jimin said with an arched brow. “You don’t have to call her that.”

“Wait, you guys have the same birth month?!” Taehyung said in surprise. “And why can Jungkook call her Noona and not me?”

“Trust me,” Jimin sighed. “I don’t like that he does either.”

“She called Jin-hyung ‘Oppa’ yesterday,” Taehyung muttered, crossing his arms. 

“She did what?!” Both me and Jimin yelled causing Taehyung to flinch. Me more in disgust while Jimin seemed angry.

“Him and his ‘Oppa’ fetish,” Jimin muttered in annoyance, as he walked towards the large black SUV that an employee drove out. “Then these jerks won’t let me be alone with her.”

“We can still hear you hyung,” I said and I laughed as he flipped me off. 

I don’t remember him being this possessive before.

“He reminds me of Hobi,” Taehyung muttered. “They’re so scary, I mean Hobi-hyung has sort of chilled since he claimed Yoongi.”

“Claimed?” I said in confusion. 

“Bro,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes. “You really didn’t pay attention at all in homeschool huh?”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I said, starting the car and pulling out once I saw Jimin hop into the SUV. “Jimin has already been rejected.”

“Maybe it’s different because Y/N is human,” Taehyung shrugged. 

“YOU KNEW?!” I yelled and I almost let go of the brake, causing Jimin to honk at us from behind. “Hyung, how did-”

“Did you think we were born yesterday?” Taehyung said smacking me on the head, even though I was driving. Wait-

“‘WE’?!”

“Yes,” Taehyung said nonchalantly. “We’re just waiting for Jimin to open up to us.”

And for once Taehyung rendered me speechless. So all of them knew. Jimin is gonna lose his mind. The only one who doesn’t know is Y/N herself. 

“You know what I don’t understand?” Taehyung said all of a sudden in a serious tone. “Humans don’t possess the ability to reject a Soulmate right? I mean have you ever heard of it before?”

“No I haven’t heard of them evolving that way.” I said, I am somewhat confused by it as well. “There’s been a lot of cases lately, where people’s Marks are being erased.”

“Really?” Taehyung said in surprise. “Huh I wonder…”

“Wouldn’t it be more likely that Neanderthals are rejecting their human Soulmates?” I asked. “I mean do you think Namjoon has heard of more cases from his father?”

“I mean, we can always figure that out later.” Taehyung said, shaking his head. “My concern is for Jimin and Y/N.”

“Right.” I agreed already seeing the cottage in sight.

“We know Jimin thinks Y/N rejected him..” Taehyung drawls.. “But that’s simply impossible, she doesn’t have the ability.”

“What are you saying hyung?”

“I’m saying that your Grandpa is a liar.” Taehyung said, clenching his fists. “I know Jimin, and I don’t think he had the heart to reject her but I can’t help but think-”

“No,” I said clenching the wheel. “Hyung loved her so much.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense.” Taehyung said with a sigh. We both sat in the car as Jimin hopped off the SUV and started to pet Yuki, who seemed to only have warmed up to him. As he pulled up his sleeves, his broken Mark was like a crack on his skin. Like a reflection of his broken soul. 

“We need to get her to remember.” I said with determination. “She has the answers.”

“I don’t mean to be pessimistic,” Taehyung whispered as he got out of the car. “That doesn’t change that the bond between them is broken.”

“I don’t care,” I said, marching my way up the walkway. “They don’t need the bond to know they belong together.”

“But-”

“Besides,” I said. “I don’t think the bond is entirely broken.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung whispered as we made it to the front door. Jimin and Y/N were both sitting on the couch with Yuki laying across both their laps. “His Mark-”

“It’s like you said,” I whispered. “Jimin is acting possessive because he hasn’t claimed her. He’s not just being jealous and she may not remember him but her body does which is why-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jimin asked in English, his face slightly pink. 

“Yea,” Y/N said, her face matching Jimin’s. “You guys have been awfully quiet, it’s quite suspicious…”

“It’s nothing Noona,” Taehyung said with his box smile and a wink, causing Y/N to splutter.

“YAH KIM TAEHYUNG!” Jimin yelled in Korean as he chased him around the house. “DON’T CALL HER THAT!”

*

“Is he gonna kill Taehyung?” Y/N said slightly worried.

“Maybe.” And just then we hear a picture frame fall from somewhere in the house.

“Shit.” 

Yep shit is right Noona.

Prev / Next 

Masterlist 

[crusnikroxas]

Imagine this! The boys are out and the reader decides to do a self care day with face masks. They are sitting on the counter cross legged in the bathroom, peeling off a clear peel on mask with the door open and the boys come home to see it. And before Y/N can explain the boys react badly 😂😂😂😂

Ooooh, this is fun (✧∇✧) (so this’ll take place in the DEISY universe, just so you know)

~

“Sister, we shall not be gone long! I imagine that this business of Undyne being stuck under a boulder shall be nothing for the great Papyrus, nyeh-heh-heh!” Sans looks far less enthusiastic about the whole endeavor, but regardless, he winks in a comforting manner as he softly caresses your cheek. “Be back in a flash, sweetheart.” “Literally, considering that handy teleporting of yours.” He winks again, though Papyrus seems highly offended by this. “Nonsense! It will take a mere three hours to walk to Undyne’s house!”

....now Sans looked all the more unenthusiastic about this ‘adventure’.

“Bro, look, as cool as walkin’ through blizzards and rain sounds-” “Exactly! Very cool indeed! Let us be off, Sans!” And before poor Sans can even protest, Papyrus yanks his brother up and onto his shoulder, sprinting out the door, cackling victoriously all the way. You roll your eyes and chuckle from your place on the couch, stretching luxuriously as you do so. It had been a while since you’d found yourself on your own - and while the house seemed almost unsettlingly quiet without the brothers present, you inwardly vowed that you would enjoy this moment of solitude. Jumping up from your cozy spot, you stretch once again, releasing a sigh of contentment when almost all of your joints let out ear-splitting pops and cracks - a luxury you hadn’t really been allowed as of late, considering....the weird skeleton thing, that you still didn’t really understand. Practically bounding up the staircase Papyrus-style, you rush to your room, reach under the bed, and dig around for what you were seeking, letting out a quiet noise of victory as you find your prize - a bag that Kat had delivered to you just the other day.

Filled to the brim with human ‘spa day’ items.

Face masks, body scrubs, body lotions, heavenly smelling shampoo, conditioner, and body wash....yup, it was all there. Now, you weren’t normally one to indulge in such things (hell, this stuff was expensive, and on the surface you’d barely been able to buy yourself a new toothbrush when needed), but Kat had insisted that you take it. “Aw, c’mon - it’s not like I have many clientele who’ll want this stuff anyway! Plus, you deserve it after all you’ve been through, sweet.” You hadn’t had even the slightest bit of room to argue - plus, it wasn’t as if she was wrong, anyway. You had been through a bit of a hellish time lately, to say the least. Besides, not only would you smell amazing at the end of all this, it would also help to distract you from the fact that you were all alone in the house, and anybody could-

No. No. Not thinking about that. Self-care time.

Nodding resolutely, you stand with your treasures in tow, and hurry yourself down to the bathroom. Instead of digging through the bag carefully like one should, you simply tip the contents all over the bathroom floor, sorting out what you would want to try out on this particular day.

Your choices in the end were:

-Deep conditioner, heavy with the scent of roses.

-A luxurious shampoo and conditioner with a matching scent to the deep conditioner (not from the same brand, but eh, close enough).

-Jasmine body scrub and body wash.

-Another floral body lotion - you weren’t sure what flower it was meant to smell like (you couldn’t understand the language on the front, and the picture was pretty nondescript), but you knew that it smelt good, and you wanted it.

-And lastly, charcoal face mask - you’d heard that this stuff was damn good, and had always wanted to try it; the fact that it was in the bag was a blessing in your book.

Satisfied with your choices, you shoved the rest of the stuff back into the bag and got to work.

Firstly, came the deep conditioner - and man, you had not realised what a hassle the damn stuff would be. Sure, putting it onto your hair was all fine and dandy, but having to wrap your head in cling-film was an utter bitch. How the hell had all those women on the ‘do it yourself’ videos made it look so easy?

After your dramatic battle to make your hair more luxurious, you chill out on the couch reading more of Sans’ quantum physics book (nothing like catching up on atomic and subatomic scales), waiting out the time instructed on the bottle - and when that time was up, you traveled back into the bathroom for your next struggle.

Sure, the body scrub smelled delicious, but the sandy texture soon became very troublesome to shove and massage onto your skin - eventually, your task is complete, leaving you a grumbling gritty mess as you unwrap your hair and finally step into the shower to wash the damn stuff off. 

But when you finally do, you realise that all that effort was well worth it - your skin felt stupidly smooth as the water flowed over your body. Releasing a contented sigh, you massage your scalp, freeing your hair from the heavy conditioner product - the bathroom is soon filled with the scent of roses and jasmine as you continue your work, the smirk on your face wide as you wonder how your skeletal roommates would react to the bathroom smelling like a damn flower garden.

When you finally step out of the shower and run the towel over yourself, you can’t help but let out another contented sigh; even if it had been a hassle thus far, your skin was so soft, and you smelt amazing. Still, you couldn’t understand how some women did this on a daily basis.

Sufficiently dry, you gently begin to rub tiny amounts of the lotion into your already soft skin - you didn’t want to overdo it and make your body and bathroom into a slip’n’slide (something tells you it wouldn’t be nearly as fun as it sounds). Now, all you had to do was wait for your skin to absorb it....

....and once that step was complete, you knew that your greatest challenge lay ahead.

Releasing a puff of air, you wrap your hair securely in a towel, dress yourself, and face the slightly fogged up bathroom mirror with a determined expression.

“...ok. We got this. Just....not the eyebrows. Definitely not the eyebrows.”

Bit by bit, you smear the inky goop that was the face mask onto your skin, carefully ensuring that it wouldn’t rip of anything you wanted to keep (like your eyebrows, for instance). After a moment of looking at your frankly terrifying face in the mirror, you let out a snort of laughter, reading the back of the package.

“Leave on until dry....right, back to the books, then.”

Sadly, this was how the brothers found you.

Reading peacefully on the couch.

While your face looked as if it was suffering from some kind of goopy necrosis.

All of you stare at one another for the longest of moments - their expressions slowly forming into utter horror, yours forming into a strange mix between concern and laughter.

“OH MY GOD! SISTER!”

Papyrus is the first to move, rushing to your side, sending the poor innocent book you’d been reading flying out of your hands and across the living room.

“Y/N! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

You wince as he yells as loud as he can in your face.

“....yes?”

Papyrus still scrabbles around, clearly at a loss of what to do - Sans simply seemed to be frozen in place at the doorway, his sockets empty of their usual eye-lights.

Whoops. Never a good sign.

“Uh, you know, I’m actually-”

“ARGH! THE FIRST AID BOOK NEVER WARNED THAT HUMAN’S FACES COULD MELT! ARE YOU TURNING INTO A SKELETON?! IS THIS HOW HUMANS TURN INTO SKELETONS?! THIS IS-”

“Papyrus, listen-”

You gently place a hand on his arm, stilling his motions - oh man, you felt awful for making them worry like this, but some part of you couldn’t help but want to laugh at the situation.

“-it’s just a face-mask.”

He blinks.

“...face....mask? Sister, while it is indeed on your face, it does not look like-”

“It’s a weird thing that humans do sometimes to relax! Trust me, perfectly safe. I’ve been, uh, indulging the entire time you guys were gone. Kat gave me some presents, so I....”

You look over to Sans, letting out a sigh of relief to see that his eye-lights were back in place, and instead of looking terrified, he now merely looked perplexed. Walking over to the couch, he reaches out to poke your cheek, which you quickly block.

“Hey! If you touch it before it’s dry, it won’t work its magic!”

Sans snorted (though he now looked vaguely worried).

“Wait, it’s not gonna make your face different....right?”

“No, it’s going to...uh....hang on...”

You get up from your spot on the couch, hurry into the bathroom, and hurry back, face-mask box in hand.

“Ok....anti-aging, though that’s probably just wishful thinking....cleans skin pores...yup. That’s about it.”

“...what’s the point, then?”

You think on this for a moment, before shrugging.

“Like I said, just one of the weird things humans do. I should have cucumber slices on my eyes too, but I wanted to read.”

Sans lets out the loudest of snorts at this, sniggering as Papyrus plants his hands on his hips with a frown.

“What would cucumber on your eyes do? I was always told to use limes!”

“...Papyrus, cucumber slices are supposed to be...relaxing and cooling. Limes would burn the utter hell out of my eyes.”

“...ah. That would explain why they stung my sockets so much when I tried, then.”

Sans was practically killing himself with laughter at this point, tears leaking out of his sockets as he collapsed to the carpet.

“It is not a funny matter, brother! Limes and cucumbers are both very similar in colour, so of course it would be incredibly easy to mix them up!”

This did not help Sans’ laughing fit in the least, of course - Papyrus lifted his arms up in a ‘I resign’ manner, before turning to you.

“Y/n, despite the...positive results for your skin, please attempt to remove that before dinner. It might fall into the spaghetti, and as I am not preparing squid-ink spaghetti, it would not look very nice.”

You give him a salute, before he stomps into the kitchen, leaving you on the couch with a still hysterically laughing Sans on the carpet.

~

It’s only at night when both you and Sans are tucked up nice and snug that your efforts during the day are truly recognised.

He audibly sniffs, leaving you to smirk up at him, while he looks down at you in confusion.

“...did you just sniff me?”

“...well....you, uh...smell different.”

Your smirk widens.

“Nice?”

“...well, I mean...you always smell nice, but....it’s just....different?”

“Oh, I always smell nice, do I?”

He huffs, shoving his face into your hair, his reply a muffled grumble.

“...you know what I mean.”

Sniggering, you manage to find one of his hands to grab onto under the burrito of covers the two of you had buried yourself under. He squeezes back, before he clearly pauses - his fingers slowly inch their way up your arm, his face leaving your hair to look down at you suspiciously. You smirk widens all the more.

“...it’s soft, huh?”

He chuckles, snuggling you closer.

“....yup. Sleep well, you pampered princess.”

“Excuse me! I did all that work myself, and it was hell - all so I could smell like a flower and be super soft!”

His chuckles grow louder, his hand patting you comfortingly.

“And it all worked out like a charm, sweetheart. Hope that you had a good day.”

“I...I did, I think? How about your day? Did you get Undyne out from under the boulder ok?”

“....Papyrus and Undyne ended up, uh, causing a cave-in. Undyne’s gonna have to stay with Alphys for a bit until her house is rebuilt. Again.”

“...oh.”

-

Pffft, welp, there you go, tiny one-shot of y/n’s day of luxury ;3 Hope you enjoyed!

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows VIII

Chapter VIII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad --> Here

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today. Today was going to be a good day. Music lured me to wake, the bass guitar thrumming through my bones. I arched my back stretching, a satisfied groan escaping my lips. Very rarely did I feel well-rested when I awoke, my job not helping that much, but this morning was not normal. While I didn't like being side-lined on the field, it did give me some extra time to get rested. I rolled my head side to side, glad my neck wasn't sore anymore. It was strange to be able to swallow without wincing uncomfortably.

I got dressed, ate breakfast, and got packed up to be ready for work. I had to make multiple trips around my apartment, which wasn't much trouble with how small it was. With my type of job, I had to either have a roommate that also works for Shield or live on my own. With how fast the arrangements were sorted out I didn't have time to search for an appropriate roomie, and the more I stayed in my apartment, the more I got accustomed to living alone. I eventually got comfortable enough to call it home.

I had to do a double-take when my eyes scanned over my athletic clothing when I was reviewing if I had everything. I nearly forgot that yesterday they had cleared me to start training again. I smiled, remembering that I was one step closer to getting back in the game. My superiors told me to focus on getting back up to speed in my performance, so I didn't have to learn how to do Ike's job. I returned his manual withing five minutes, ready to get back to the job I loved.  

I had cleaned out my locker when I was on leave, the perfect opportunity to wash clothes. I hadn't replaced them since I wasn't going to be using them any time soon. I quickly grabbed an outfit to wear while training and headed out the door.

I stuck all my bags in the corner of my office space. I had a couple of assignments I had to finish up before I could go to the training room. I wrapped them up quickly, ready to work out.

Entering the training room was almost nostalgic. Even though it wasn't that long since I've been there, it felt like it had been forever. I adjusted my t-shirt collar, pulling it away from my neck a hair. I tucked my shirt into my running shorts and started some simple stretches, making sure my shirt didn't ride up while I was doing them. There weren't very many people there at the moment, and I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

I decided to play it safe today and not work my self too hard. I approached the punching bag wrapping my hands. I focused on my hands hitting the bag. I got into a rhythm, the rest of the world zoning out of focus. I occasionally felt the twinge of eyes flowing over me, but I was in a safe place, so I just kept going. I only used my arms, for now, deciding to work up to using the rest of my body.

Sooner than I would have liked, sweat started to drip off of my forehead and my arms started to protest the repetition. I quickly shook out my limbs and reached for my bottle of water. I started to take two or three large swallows.

"I heard you were cleared to start training."

The unexpected comment startled me to cut off my water break and shove me into a coughing fit.

"Na-- I mean Agent Romanoff!" I fit in a few more wheezes, "I didn't see you there."

Natasha patted my back to help stop the coughing.

"I could tell, and I've told you not to call me that y/n"

"Sorry Natasha" I cleared my throat one more time and took a swig of water to wash everything down.

She smiled slightly, how she wasn't named Miss Universe every year even without entering was beyond me. I looked up to her and she seemed to represent what I wanted to become, but standing next to her... It seemed impossible. She was skilled in combat, infiltration, manipulation, she was beautiful, intelligent, and she runs with the 'big boys.' Instead of asking what she is, the shorter list is what Natasha isn't. One thing on that list is she isn't super, she doesn't have powers. And that is not encouraging.

"So, how are you holding up?"

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, "not as well as I had hoped." I laughed weakly, "I'm not gonna lie, this sucks."

She gave a quiet huff of laughter.

I tilted my head back and shouted exasperatedly, "why did I have to be stupid and get out of shape!?"

"Hey, it wasn't your fault, Loki was stupid and put you out of commission," she paused, "we could have used you on a couple of missions these past few weeks."

I side-eyed her, "it could be argued that I was a dumb there as well," I heaved a deep sigh, "but I appreciate that. Thank you, Natasha."

"No problem, but don't expect me to do that every day."

"Not planning on it."

"Go shower, get cleaned up. You have to work yourself back into it. It looks like you worked yourself well." She placed a hand on my shoulder, "if you're free you should stop by the compound every once in a while."

I smiled, "I'll see what I can do."

After a long stretch session and an even longer shower, I returned to my desk. I kept typing away and working on paperwork. My finger occasionally twirled my little fly-aways that delicately curled around my face after my shower. They were my favorite part about taking a shower, my hair just wet enough to curl naturally. It was the same effect that happened when I am out in the rain.  

I zoned out working on my computer, occasionally rolling my shoulders to loosen them up from my work out. Slowly the minutes passed, only noticeable by the silent turning of the numbers on my monitor clock. I missed the excitement of my day, the suspense of the job, the people I talked to.

A knock on my closed door dragged me from my train of thought, I turned in my chair to see who was about to walk in.

It was Agent Fletcher, file in hand, and with the look on his face, it was safe to assume he got back from a mission not too long ago. "Agent L/n," he respectfully waited for me to nod my head before stepping onto my office. "I have a file here with some information that needs to get to the Avengers, Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark in particular."

I reached my arms above my head to stretch before standing and taking the file, "Yes sir. I'll head over to the compound now."

"Be careful, I would like you back in the field as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir, I will."

The commute to the compound was relatively short, my thoughts occupying me the whole way. I approached the front desk with security handing them my Shield ID for them to scan. They quickly sent me through not saying a word. I walked down the main hallway, not quite sure where the team was.

"Hey, Jarvis?"

"Yes, miss?"

I couldn't help looking up at the ceiling to where the voice was coming from, "Do you mind telling me where the team is?"

"Most are currently in the living area at the moment."

I swallowed, "Most?"

"Tony, Dr. Banner, Natasha, Steve, and Loki are there right now. Thor is in the kitchen, a room over, and Clint is making his way to the living area as we speak."

I let out a breath, "Thank you, Jarvis, do you mind telling me the easiest way to get there?"

"Not at all miss, take the elevator to your right to the third floor and then take another right. This will take you directly to the living area"

"Much appreciated"

I followed the directions the AI told me. Of course, I had been there before, but every time I came it was from a different direction or I was high on anesthetic drugs. I walked down the hallway approaching what I recognized as the living room; when I got there the whole team was there sitting on various surfaces. Tony was standing upfront in the which it seemed he had just made an announcement. I knocked on the doorframe, causing Tony to turn around to face me.

"Hey! Y/n gets to go first!"

I raised an eyebrow in question before scanning my eyes over the facial expressions of the team. They all looked a combination of concerned, confused, amused, and on a select few dread. That wasn't the most encouraging, so I decided to shut it down quickly.

"I don't know what you are talking about, but it's going to be a no. I just came to give you and Dr. Banner this file." I handed the file to Tony and made eye contact with Bruce to make sure he knew it was for him as well.

"Y/n, call me Bruce. It sounds distant coming from you"

I smiled and gave a nod, "Okay Bruce." I gave a silent wave to everyone and turned to escape from whatever I was voluntold to do, but Tony grabbed my arm.

"Nuh-uh uh, Y/n, you can't leave until you sing one song."

My eyes went wide staring at him.

"It's karaoke!"

I sighed, "really? Can't leave?"

"Yup, Jarvis? Lockdown this floor."

The hallway closed off at the end blocking any escape.

Tony let go of my arm, "pick a song, any song. There's a prop box you can pick from too in the room to the right." He walked back to the couch and sat down. Everybody looked at me expectedly.

"Okay, okay, um... I'll be back." I walked into the room where he said the prop box was. Why they had a prop box, I had no idea, but I figured I'd give them a show if I couldn't leave.

I closed the door behind me to tell Jarvis discreetly what song I wanted. I quickly dug through the box and found the perfect costume. I took a deep breath to prep myself, "Jarvis, are they ready?"

"Yes miss"

"M'kay, don't let me down"

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am"

I took that as my cue and burst through the door. There was one beat of stunned silence before the music started and I lifted a fake microphone to my lips.

I'm through with standin' in lines to clubs I'll never get in It's like the bottom of the ninth and I'm never gonna win This life hasn't turned out Quite the way I want it to be

I walked to the front of the room as I sang. There were a few snickers I could hear which made it hard to hold a straight face. I left the asides of the song to the track Jarvis was playing but still held out my microphone to Bruce like he was singing it.

(Tell me what you want)

I want a brand new house on an episode of Cribs And a bathroom I can play baseball in And a king-size tub Big enough for ten plus me

I mimed swinging a baseball bat with the microphone in hand, continuing to sing the song. This time when I put the mic to Tony's face he sang along with a little smirk on his face.

(Yeah, so what you need?)

I need a credit card that's got no limit And a big black jet with a bedroom in it Gonna join the mile high club At thirty-seven thousand feet

It was Clint's turn and he rocked the line.

(Been there, done that)

I want a new tour bus full of old guitars My own star on Hollywood Boulevard Somewhere between Cher And James Dean is fine for me

For the last aside I raised the mic for them all to sing along, well everyone who knew the song.

(So how you gonna do it?)

I held the microphone to my chest and sung quietly, almost sweetly.

I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair And change my name

There was a slight pause, and then I pulled down cheap purple star-shaped sunglasses and wrapped a fluffy boa around my neck.

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars

I swung my hair around to the beat of the line, quickly rocking out to the song.

The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars

I pointed at the group in front of me with a wink and proceeded to prance around the couch.

Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

I placed my hands on Thor's head and placed my chin over top, tilting my head innocently, but with a wicked smirk that said otherwise.

And well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels

I swung my boa around, taking a risk and flipping it in Loki's face causing everyone else to laugh and Loki to sneeze feathers.

Hire eight bodyguards that love to beat up assholes Sign a couple autographs So I can eat my meals for free

I mimed the words and chose Steve to be the deep voice, but he only stretched his mouth and shook his head.

(I'll have the quesadilla, ha, ha)

I'm gonna dress my ass with the latest fashion Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion Gonna date a centerfold that loves To blow my money for me

I shook my hips and offered the microphone to the whole group to ask the question.

(So how you gonna do it?)

I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair And change my name

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

And we'll hide out in the private rooms With the latest dictionary of today's who's who They'll get you anything with that evil smile Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

With each phrase, I pointed at someone who personified it best, Tony, Steve, and Loki, respectively.

Well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

I'm gonna sing those songs that offend the censors Gonna pop my pills from a Pez dispenser Get washed-up singers writin' all my songs Lipsync 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong

Through it all, I was jamming out, jumping, making up random dance moves, acting out the words of the song. As the final chorus came up, I tried to sing it sincerely, standing still at the front of the room, making eye contact with everyone in the room.

Well, we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

After I sang the last line of the stanza I jumped up and landed feet spread apart, pointing at the group. I reached out for Natasha to join me, but she shook her head no. I playfully glared at her as I finished the song getting hyped up for the last couple of stanzas.

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

And we'll hide out in the private rooms With the latest dictionary of today's who's who They'll get you anything with that evil smile Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

I slowly took the sunglasses off of my nose and unwrapped the boa from my neck as I sang the last two lines.

Well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

There was a moment of silence before everyone started to clap for me. I took what I tried to make a regal bow and was smiling like an idiot probably, but it was a lot of fun.

After the applause died down Tony spoke, "wow, I was not expecting that."

Laughing ensued as I took another bow.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises"

I looked around to see most of the team nodding in agreeance and a few were smiling with what could be described as fondness. I thought I saw Loki with a similar expression, but it was kind of hard to tell.

"Well, you got your file and you got your song, so," I looked at the time quickly, "it looks like it's time for me to clock out and go home." I turned towards the now open hallway before sticking my head back into the room. "Have fun with your karaoke, and make sure to tell me if someone shows me up." I tossed the props to Tony who was sitting on the couch and walked out without another word.

Tags: @nightrose64

[walkerismychoice]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 5

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Charlie Hawkins)

Summary: Charlie and Bryce arrive at the resort and make preparations for the first wedding event.

Rating: 18+ - Nothing explicit but a bit NSFW-ish in parts

Word Count: 2138

The hotel shuttle pulls up in front of the luxurious Half Moon Resort in Montego Bay. The landscaping is well appointed with large palm trees, brilliant tropical florals, and lush foliage surrounding the pristine white building.

Bryce steps out of the vehicle and lets out a low whistle. "It's no Motel 6, but it will do."

Charlie chuckles. "I can see if there's one nearby if you want to crash there instead."

As they approach the desk, Charlie has a sudden realization. She had booked the room when she and Andrew were were still together and only needed one bed. "Excuse, me," she addresses the woman at the front desk. "I wanted to see if I could switch my room type. I had a single king, but could I get a two queens instead?”

“Let me see.” She checks the computer. “I’m sorry miss, but the block of rooms for the wedding is fully booked, and it looks like we are almost booked solid throughout the resort. This is a very busy week for us. We do have a Prestige Ocean Suite available for $1500 per night. It’s very private and spacious and has an pull-out sofa in addition to the king-size bed.”

“$1500 per night?” It’s almost five times what she’s paying for the standard room, but what’s an extra $8000 when this trip is already costing her close to $20,000 altogether already? She shakes her head in disbelief at the thought she would consider spending that much more so they could have their own beds, but at the same time, him sleeping in bed with her is not part of the deal. “That’s quite a bit more than I was expecting to spend. Are you sure there’s nothing else?”

Just then, Bryce crooks his finger at the clerk to urge her closer, and he leans over the counter to whisper in her ear. A huge grin appears on her face and then she clicks her mouse of few times and clacks on the keyboard. “Well then, it looks like I’ll be able to give you a free upgrade. Here are your keys and some information on the resort. I’ve circled the location of your suite right here. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if I can assist you further.”

“Thanks, Marica.” Bryce winks at her. “My wife and I really appreciate it. Don’t we, babe?”

Charlie is too stunned by the whole ordeal to to anything but say “thank you” and accept the keys. “What just happened there?” she asks once they are out of earshot. “Your wife?”

“Hey, I was thinking on my feet. I told her you were pregnant and this was our last big trip before the baby comes... I also told her you sometimes wet the bed due to your pregnancy hormones, so we can’t sleep together.

Charlie halts in her tracks. “Oh my god Bryce, you did not!”

Bryce smirks. “Nah, I didn’t have to go that far. I mean, who could say no to this face?”

Charlie rolls her eyes, but if there are people who out there who can resist Bryce’s charms, she’s definitely not one of them. “You are something else.”

“Hey, I’m just taking full advantage of what God gave me.” He puts his free arm around her shoulder. “Stick with me and you could learn a thing or two.”

They reach their room and Charlie takes a good look around. As promised there is a bedroom with a king bed, and a main living room area with the pullout couch, in addition to a dining area with a full dining room table. It’s much bigger than she expected, and has to be bigger square footage-wise than the apartment she and Sienna share. Charlie quietly takes it all in, while Bryce zips around, checking everything out.

“Holy shit!" Bryce exclaims from inside the bathroom. I think I could fit my entire apartment in here. And look!" He appears in the doorway holding two white robes. "His and hers bathrobes! We can sit on the balcony in the mornings sipping coffee in our matching robes."

Charlie chuckles. "I don't think we have to take the fake couple thing that far."

There's a knock on the door, and Charlie answers it to see the hotel porter with the rest of her and Bryce's luggage. She thanks him and slips him a tip, while Bryce helps her bring the bags and suitcases inside.

"Why don't you show me what you brought, so we can make sure we don't need to get you anything else," Charlie suggests.

"Don't worry, Charlie. I have an appropriate stripper outfit for every occasion," he jokes and Charlie just stands with her hands on her hips and an unenthused look on her face. "Okay, fine." Bryce starts to unzip the garment bags. "Does anyone ever say you can stand to lighten up a bit?"

All the time. "I just want to make sure, for both your sake and mine. After today we aren't going to have much free time." She inspects the outfits as Bryce brings lays them out, and is, much to her surprise, very impressed with his choices.

"Just because I spend a lot of time taking off my clothes, doesn't mean I can't figure out what to put on. I'm told I clean up very well."

"I'm sorry to have doubted you," Charlie replies sincerely. She'd foolishly assumed from outward appearances she had Bryce all figured out, but he keeps proving her wrong, in a good way, at every turn. "We have a couple hours now before we need to go for dinner if you want some time to yourself"

"I think I'm going to hit up the gym. I didn't get a chance to get my workout in this morning. Care to join me?" he asks, and she can't tell if he actually wants her to come or if he's just being polite.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to take a nap. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and it’s been a long day.” 

Charlie waits until Bryce leaves, but when she gets in bed, she’s restless, and as much as she doesn’t want to, all she can think about is him. She closes her eyes and sees his handsome, smiling face and an unwelcome fuzzy feeling washes over her. She can still feel his little touches on her her hand, her arm, her shoulder, like they are burned into her skin. "Ugh, get a hold of yourself." She groans out loud. She feels like a twelve year old with a crush on a boy. She throws off the sheet and jumps out of bed. "Might as well shower and get ready if I'm not going to sleep."

Bryce hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the bathroom was huge. There’s a separate water closet for the toilet, a walk in shower stall, and a large open area with double sinks and a spacious whirlpool tub, all tiled from floor. On the countertop Charlie spots a towel sculpture in the shape of a swan with rose petals sprinkled on and around it. Charlie has stayed in a lot of nice places, but this is almost over the top. 

She closes her eyes as the hot water from the shower envelops her, and she washes the stench of travel away. Despite her best intentions, her thoughts drift to Bryce again, wondering what he’s doing in the gym. She imagines his muscles flexed and glistening with sweat - him coming back to the room and sneaking into the shower with her. She runs her hands down her body, lower and lower, pretending they aren’t her own. “God, Charlie. What the hell are you doing?” She abruptly turns the water to cold to cool herself down. What if he had come back and heard her moaning his name? She would have never lived that down. 

Charlie gets out and dries herself off. She foregoes the robe because it’s a short trip to her bedroom, and the late afternoon tropical breeze is hot. She wraps one towel around her body and another around her hair. Just as she walks through the door frame, she screams as she crashes hard into Bryce’s shirtless, firm body. In the commotion she forgets the that her hands are the only thing holding her towel up, her arms flailing to try and keep her balance and her towel dropping to the floor. Bryce grabs her bare waist just before she topples to the ground. They both stare at each other, momentarily in shock, until Charlie notices Bryce’s gaze sliding over her body, and she whips the town off the ground and wraps it around herself again. “Oh my god. Oh my god,” she repeats over again as all other words fail her, and she flushes hot with mortification.

“Charlie, it’s not a big deal,” Bryce tries to reassure her. “You’ve seen me without my clothes on before. Now we’re even.”

“Even?!” she practically screeches. “I don’t think me seeing you in skimpy underwear really compares.”

Bryce smirks. “I’m going to get in the shower now myself. You are welcome to sneak a peek.”

“Ew, no!...I mean, I’ll just see you at six when it’s time to leave. Fully clothed.” She puts her head down and scurries into her room without waiting for a response from Bryce. 

Charlie flops down on the bed and pulls a pillow over her face. She may have just experienced the single most embarrassing moment in her entire life. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Bryce saw her in all her glory, she actually said ‘ew’ to the prospect of seeing him naked too. Of all the responses she could have made, what would possess her brain to find that most appropriate?

The truth is she would very much like to see him naked, and when she hears the shower running through the door from her room to the bathroom, the desire grows even stronger. She turns on her blowdryer to dry her hair, hoping the noise will drown out her thoughts, but it doesn’t work. All she can thinking about is the water streaming down over the hard planes of his chest, his hands running over his slick, soapy body. She wonders if he's touching himself while he's thinking about her, but she quickly shakes of that thought because he can’t be as perverted as she is.

Charlie puts in her wireless earbuds and blasts her favorite playlist so she can focus on the task at hand. She takes extra time to do her hair and makeup, not because she’s really into that sort of thing, but because it’s better than the prospect of having to make small talk with Bryce right now. She puts on her deep green cocktail dress and it fits like a glove. She’s not even self conscious about the extra pounds she’s put on since starting medical school because it accentuates her curves in all the right ways, and she decides there really is something to buying expensive clothing. The v-neck keyhole cutout detail shows just enough skin, and the color brightens the green in her eyes. Although the thought had crossed her mind to completely blow off all of her cousin Katelyn’s outfit suggestions in protest, Charlie decided to go in the opposite direction go all in. If she was going to go to great lengths to make it look like she had the life together, she wasn’t going to do it halfway. She takes a spin in front of the full length mirror, pleased with her efforts, and steels herself to face Bryce again.

Bryce stands up from the couch and lets out a whistle as Charlie walk out into the living area. “Damn, Charlie. You look stunning!” 

Normally that type of compliment from him would get her all flustered, but she’s already too distracted by his appearance to form coherent thoughts. His hair is expertly mussed like always, and the blazer of his fitted navy suit hangs open revealing his pale blue dress shirt, the top couple buttons undone. The suit fits so perfectly it had to be tailored to him. The hemline of the pants just above the ankles, and she wonders if she belongs in Regency England because that small flash of skin is obscenely sexy. “....And you look....”

“I look fucking amazing. It’s okay, you can say it.”

Charlie laughs under her breath, thankful for the break in the tension. “Just when I think you can’t get any more arrogant...”

“Not arrogant, confident. Remember? You hired me to be your arm candy, and I’m taking my job very seriously. So come on, he urges as he offers her his elbow. Let’s go show me off to your family and friends.”

[soybeantree]

fugue

pairing: kim seokjin x reader  genre/warning:  fluff. word count:  description: “ultimately, we're all actors: i'm putting on a costume, so we're playing pretend.” a/n: this is part 2 of a series based on the outfits of bts’ ‘boy with luv’ dance practice. it’s been years since we put out the first one...can this even be counted as a series then?

The gate creaks open, and you sigh with relief when it stays on its hinges. Your brother promised to come over and fix the gate, but as police chief and a new dad his schedule is a bit full. "Be careful with the gate." You advise your guest as he enters. His gaze drifts over the yard and house, and you fidget with your keys as you examine everything through his eyes. The sun has bleached the walls, leaving the house a shadow of its former self. However, the windows glisten in the afternoon light, and the yard is freshly raked, the bushes neatly trimmed. A stone path leads from the gate to the patio of mismatched furniture. It's no palace, but it is home. "I've made up my brother's old room for you." You say as you start up the path. His footsteps sound behind you. "Your brother doesn't mind?" His voice is a whisper, a surprise for a man of his height and breadth. "My brother hasn't lived here in years." You throw a smile over your shoulder. "Besides, he's the one who suggested you stay here." "Your brother is the police chief?"

You nod as you attempt to unlock the front door. The key always sticks. Your brother said he would also look at that. The bolt finally slides back, and you usher the man in, closing the door behind you. "I'm sure you'll want to shower and change. My brother says you've been in those clothes since they found you." He glances down at his clothes then to you. His eyes are saucers, and he looks completely lost. "But I don't have anything else to wear." With a grin, you hold out the bag you've been carrying. "I went and picked up some things for you. The clothes aren't as nice as what you have on, but they're clean." He takes the bag, opening it to examine the contents. "My clothes are nice?" His attention shifts back to you. While he's dressed simply in jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, there is nothing simple about the clothes. Designer brands are not your forte, but you know when something is designer. His entire outfit probably costs more than you make in a month. "It's a good thing." You assure him. "It means you're probably rich, and it's easier to be found if you're rich." His expression shifts from lost to pained. You brother said that happens whenever he tries to remember. "The bathroom is straight down this hallway. My brother's room is the door on the left. You'll find towels and soap on the  bed. Once you're finished you can come to the kitchen." You point to the door on your right. "I should have dinner ready by then." He pauses a moment in the living room, taking in the walls and furnishings. Most of the furniture is older than you. Plastic wrap kept it in perfect condition while your parents were alive. Unable to stand sticking to your couch, you have since removed it, though a few years passed before you could. The TV is new, a birthday present from your brother. Pictures cover the walls, hiding the outdated wallpaper. They document your life from birth to now. Some cause you to cringe, but you leave them. "This is-was my parents' home." You offer as explanation. "They left it to my brother and I when they passed. My brother already had a house, so it became mine." His gaze shift to you as you speak. He clings to your every word, causing the words dry up on your tongue. You want to say something deep and insightful that will help him navigate through this now unfamiliar world, but nothing comes. "Bring your clothes with you when you’re done. I can throw them in the wash. Unless you want to have them dry cleaned." His brows furrow. "They're nice. The washer might ruin them." You explain. He picks at his shirt. "I don't mind washing it. You're already doing so much for me." His smile is soft and tugs at your heart. He bobs his head and walks back to the bathroom. You enter the kitchen. When your brother called asking for help with an amnesiac who needed a place to stay, you had laughed. Your town doesn't even have a McDonalds. There's no way something as crazy as an amnesiac showing up at the police station would happen, but when you arrived, SJ was sitting on a bench, staring at the wall. Bewildered and begrimed though he was, he appeared as a prince fallen from a fairy tale. His name isn't SJ. Your brother explained as he provided all the information they had gathered about the town's new arrival. The only identifying information on him was a handkerchief with the initials KSJ, so the station had taken to calling him SJ. He would only be with you for a few days, your brother had assured. You agreed to host him. How could you not? He was a lost puppy with big brown eyes. Dinner is ready when SJ comes in. He looks more human in the thrift store clothes you bought. His wet hair hangs over his eyes and a small smile tugs on his lips. He hands you his clothes and you direct him to eat. The shower and food ease the man out of his confusion and sorrow. He asks you questions about your brother and family and the small town where you have lived all your life. Talking about yourself is awkward at first, but the more you talk, the more you realize you have to say. By nights end, you both are laughing until your bellies ache. —— As the days pass, you discover SJ acts more the Cinderella than the prince. He loves to cook and clean and excels at both. He can fix anything, and he has too much energy to stay cooped up in your house. When he brought out the tooth brush with the intention of cleaning the grout in the kitchen, you dragged him to the town center. They were always needing volunteers. The old ladies at the town center fell in love with him instantly. Everyday, he comes to help with the center's activities. He will even run errands for the old ladies. Mrs. Park has already promised him a sweater. When he's not at the City Center, he goes to the library to read the national newspapers. So far, none have mentioned a missing person matching his description. Your brother has had similar success. Despite the lack of progress SJ remains positive. The shadowy man you met that first day was washed away in the shower. —— "I think bingo went well." You tease as you tuck gift cards into your wallet. SJ continues to pout, his lower lip puffing up to completely cover the top. Chuckling, you return your wallet to your purse and slip your arm under his. "We can add sore loser to the list of your traits." "I'm not a sore loser." He protests, pulling his arm from yours. "Mrs. Lim swapped my bingo card with hers, so she could win." He faces you fully, his face bright with indignation. "Her name was written on all of her cards." Soft and sweet, you offer the words as a salve. "She wrote it after she swapped them." He rejects the offer. Shaking your head, you continue down the sidewalk to the house. SJ splutters behind you but quickly catches up with you. "We should report her." "To who?" "Your brother." "The police chief has better things to worry about than a potential bingo board thief." "Not potential. She is." Your response dies on your lips as you round the corner onto your street. A black Rolls Royce sits parked in front of your house. SJ comes to a halt beside you. As you glance at him, you wait for recognition, but he wears the wild-eyed, bewildered expression from his early days with you. Slipping your fingers through his, you lead him forward. The car door opens at your approach, and a man from whose hair time has leached the color steps out. He bows to you both, a wistful smile pushing up the wrinkles on his cheeks. "Master Seokjin." His gravely voice gives the meaning behind the initials. SJ's grip tightens around your fingers, and you place your free hand on your entwined fingers. "Do you recognize him?" He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. Could you please tell us your name and how you know SJ?" The man glances between you two. His gaze settles on SJ. "My family has served Master Seokjin's for over a hundred years. You may call me-" "Pang." SJ finishes for him. The man smiles, and while SJ may not return the gesture, a light appears in his eyes. "We should go inside." You whisper. Releasing SJ's hand, you head to the gate which opens without protest. The two men follow behind you up the path and to the house. The key unlocks the door on the first try. You hold it wide for them to walk through. They stand awkwardly in the living room until you instruct them to sit. While you go to prepare tea, they begin to talk. Pang initiates the conversation. You strain your ears, but the kitchen door muffles the words. Tea finished, you fill two mugs and reenter the living room. SJ beams at you as he accepts the mug. You mirror his expression and squeeze his shoulder with your now free hand before handing the second mug to Pang. Even though curiosity and some unnamed emotion burns through your veins, you return to the kitchen and your own cup of tea. As the hours head to midnight, you nod off at the table. A hand on your shoulder rouses you from your half-sleep. Glancing over your shoulder, you find SJ. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Is Pang going to stay the night? I can make up the spare room." "He's staying at a hotel in the next town over. I'm going with him. My memory is coming back bit by bit, and there's a lot I have to take care of." You nod, the only response you can find. A darkness settles on your shoulders, weighing them down, but you force them back and with a smile give SJ your blessing. He found the answers he's been searching for. You won't keep him from them. —— SJ-Seokjin, as you constantly remind yourself, has yet to return. He sent a text telling you he was well and would be meeting up with is family. Who his family is or where they are, he failed to mention, and you kept yourself from prying. Life refuses to return to normal. Everyone asks after Seokjin, and you have to force a smile and give the same answer a thousand times. The old ladies at the community center bemoan his absence, and the sweater Mrs. Park finished sits in a bag on your couch. Every time you open the gate or unlock the door, his memory surfaces. As you sit and eat your hastily made dinner, you stare at the empty chair across from you. Before he crashed into your life, the silence in the house had gone unnoticed. Now, it is deafening. Coming home after work, you round the corner onto your street and nearly trip over your feet as you come to a stop. A black Rolls Royce idles in front of your house. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and your legs itch to race forward so you can wrap your arms around the one whom you know is inside. You force your feet to move forward one step at a time. As you draw closer, the back door opens, and Seokjin emerges. In place of the thrift store clothes which made up his wardrobe, he wears what you guess is designer. The cut and style are simple, but the fabric is rich, and the clothes tailored to his form. Standing beside his carriage, he is the prince returned to his fairy tale. When you are feet from him, he closes the car door and steps towards the gate. You halt, drawing his attention to you before he can open it. "If you've come for your clothes, I can get them and bring them out to you. There's no need for you to come in." His brow lowers as his face twists into the expression he wore during the beginning of your acquaintance. "My clothes?" "I also have the sweater from Mrs. Park. They're both in a bag by the door." Your voice waivers, but you force yourself to continue. "It won't take more than a minute to grab it, and then you can be on your way." "What are you doing?" His tone snaps your attention to him. He wears an expression you've never witnessed before, and it makes your stomach twist. "You really think I'm here for my clothes? After everything, you think I'd come back take my clothes and disappear?" Your lips move soundlessly. "Wh-wh-what was I supposed to expect?" You splutter out. "You've been gone for weeks, and all I got from you was one text. I know you were busy remembering everything, but still one text. I thought-" The words burn in your chest and force tears from your eyes. "I thought you had remembered who you were and realized you're too good for this tiny town and-and," you take a shaky breath, "and too good for me." The thought has gone round and round in your head since he left until it became the only possibility. Watching Seokjin crumble, you want to reverse time and swallow your words. But, they have pierced him. The wound growing larger. "You should-" Before you can continue, his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into the warmth and safety of his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. Not after everything you and everyone here did for me.” He pulls back, his arms dropping so that his hands brush against yours. The touch sends tingles racing up your arms. You cross them in hopes of dampening the sensation. After a quick cough to clear his throat, Seokjin continues. “I would never think that way about this town and especially not you. I owe you my life.” “That’s a little extreme.” You mumble, your eyes fixed on the cracks in the sidewalk. Seokjin chuckles, a sound whose absence had left an ache in your heart. Its return sends heat flooding to your cheeks, and a finger beneath your chin raises your head, allowing Seokjin to see your embarrassment. His eyes lock on yours. “It’s not extreme. Very few people would open their home to a stranger, especially one with no memory. Without you, they would have taken me to a psych ward, and I would have been miserable.” A shudder shakes his shoulder. A chuckle slips out unbidden. You duck your head before you catch his responding smile. Your emotions are running rampant and that sight would only make things worse. Ever persistent, Seokjin crouches low and cranes his neck until his eyes are level with yours once more. You swat at him as a laugh bubbles out. “Why are you always so ridiculous? I’m glad to know that really is part of your personality.” “As it turns out, I’m a very steadfast person. The way I acted with you is the way I’ve acted my whole life. SJ and Seokjin are the same person.” “Good to know.” You say as you raise your head. “Do you forgive me then?” He pulls his puppy eyes, pulling up his bottom lip until it quivers. With a groan, you shake your head. “Of course.” He laughs, wrapping you in another hug as he bounces up and down. “Excellent.” He says as he steps back and grabs your hand. “Because I have so much to tell you.” Walking forward, he leads you through the gate. “And what was that you were saying about Mrs. Park’s sweater.”

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 20 - Twilight

Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

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Chapter Text 

And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes in a hundred worlds in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you  

—Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars  

The grand old place had fallen into disrepair. Lawns infested with weeds, the pond had flooded and at least a dozen shutters had half-fallen off their hinges. Ben wiped his boots on the steps, trying to kick away a layer of mud. There used to be a welcome mat here, he knew this as it was his job to beat the dust and dirt from it every week, but now there was nothing but scuffed concrete, cracked with weeds, covered in muddy footprints.

He was responsible for it all, another failure, like notches on a belt, they wrapped around him, squeezing the air from his lungs some days, other times it held him together, an identity that gave him certainty.

Much had changed here, but the spirit of the place remained; elegant but austere in this place of nature with its white-washed walls, keeping watch over the cliffs that overlooking a wild sea.

A growl of thunder rolled from the horizon. Ben pulled his coat across his chest as a fresh slap of wind billowed his hair and slammed the shutters against the windows.

He hadn't knocked yet. He'd travelled over a hundred kilometres to get here but the space between himself and the door was like a step between worlds.

Leia's voice came from inside and he froze, the sound of it hit him in the heart. She could be gentle, away from the public spotlight, forgiving to a fault, unyielding in her opinion, ferocious in her defence.

And God, he had missed her.

Ben reached his hand towards the door, ready to knock, while his other hand buried deep in his pocket. The door opened.

A gust of wind rallied the trees behind him, and Ben's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to find something to say.

For a woman who was grander than life, Leia's stature had always betrayed her. She'd answered the door in her nightgown, a long white robe that reminded him of childhood days, her grey hair, rarely loose, tossed behind her shoulders.

She gasped, hand clasped over her mouth in shock.

Twelve years old again, shame coloured his face and he averted his gaze, slipping his free hand back into his pocket.

Why did she have to look at him like that? Brown eyes shining with tears, pale lips cracked with aged lines and parted in shock.

He shot a fleeting glance back at her, pulling his hands out of his pockets and balling them into fists, swallowing an overwhelming urge to vomit over her petunias.

She had changed too much, grown older. And, even more unnerving was the fact she was speechless.

He opened his mouth … hi, I've missed you, I'm sorry …

But instead.

"Senator Organa-Solo lost for words? That's a first."

Shit.

It was a jerk thing to say, but she was making him nervous.

"Ben," she whispered in awe and from the corner of his eye he saw her hand lift, as if she would caress his cheek.

"Yeah, well, I've —" He scrunched his face. He shouldn't have come back. He went to turn away but this time she stopped him, pressing her warm hand against his cheek and forcing him to face her.

One touch was all it took. He broke like a piece of clay crumbling in the hands of his maker.

"I messed up, mum." They were barely words, rather jumbled gasping breaths.

"Oh, my boy—" She pulled his head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. "You came home."

Rey leant her forehead against the car window. The glass was bitingly cold and vibrated against her forehead. Finn had warned her the drive would be long, just over an hour, to a place she'd only ever known by name for its massive estates and ocean cliffs, Chandrila.

The world shifted, from grey hues of the city to clean-cut lines of suburbia, and onto large homes on acreages sitting atop velvet green hills.

Her eyes lazily opened and closed, giving in to the overwhelming fatigue. On the horizon, curtains of grey mist reached down to the ocean, blurring the line between sea and sky. Clouds and sunlight painting it from turquoise blue to navy grey.

She wound the window down and the icy wind whipped against her face.

Lost in a sensory shower of sea salt and ozone, her mind wandered. What had happened to Ben after she left?

She would have called him right after her talk with Maz, but if that number belonged to the First Order, or worse, Snoke, she wouldn't risk it.

What would she have said to him, anyway? He'd tried to explain the truth to her and now it was with some shame that she acknowledged a part of her would never have accepted what he had to say this morning. Not then. Not from him. The reality of knowing what really happened that night had broken her. It was like every bad thing in her life had led to that point, the memory that had fired and moulded her into who she was and what she believed.

He'd broken her apart and now her soul rebuilding itself on new foundations, her understanding of the world, skewed in a new light.

"Are you alright, peanut?"

"Yeah." She put the window up and hugged her arms with a gentle smile. "I'm good."

"I hope you don't mind being dragged out to this interview?"

"Are you kidding? I love seeing you in action."

A smile crept onto Finn's lips and he straightened in his seat. It was so easy to shift gears with Finn; for a moment in time, she could find the part of herself that was always happy, no matter what life threw at her.

It wasn't true. But everybody wore a mask, not just monsters.

"So… What's your status now anyway—you got a girlfriend?" She flashed a mischievous smile in his direction. "Boyfriend?"

"Oh my God. That was once!"

"I know."

"In college."

"I remember," she giggled.

"I was very drunk."

"You told me."

"And curious..."

"You don't need to defend yourself to me," she said, trying to placate him now he'd given her the rise she knew that was coming. "There's nothing wrong with being curious."

"Geez, Rey, I told you that in confidence."

"And I've never told a soul."

"I like girls," he said. "Like, a lot."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "I just thought, you know, Poe's a handsome guy and you work pretty closely together."

"Poe's married with kids, and his wife is a researcher at the paper!"

Rey nodded, pressing her lips together. The noise of the car dulled into a quiet roar as they came onto the smooth road leading to Chandrila.

Finn exhaled, as though he'd been holding his breath.

"Look, I know in the past I might have swung both ways…" He glared at Rey, daring her to say something, but she kept her mouth shut. "But I haven't met that someone yet. I thought I had but life just pans out differently than we think it will sometimes… "

He gave her a pointed look and returned to concentrating on the road ahead, leaving those unsaid words to fall into oblivion.

Rey stared at her hands. At some point, she had started wringing them together. There was nothing to say, they'd been here before and he knew, as well as she did, that sometimes you can love someone but still only ever see them as a friend.

And now, she'd felt what the other end of that spectrum was like, when you loved someone so much that the boundaries between the two of you blurred. Rapture, belonging … coming home after never having one…

"How about you?" Finn asked, back to his happy self again. "Got a boyfriend, a cute boyfriend?"

Rey's stomach dropped, and she stared straight ahead.

"Well?"

Cute boyfriend? No, Ben was hardly what she would call a cute boyfriend.

"It's complicated," she deadpanned.

"Isn't it always? What's he like?"

What was Ben like? He was darkness, and light, and shadow all mixed together. Intense and achingly expressive. Strong and vulnerable. Beautiful and terrifying. He wasn't any one thing, he was everything. How could she come close to describing such a man?

Rey cleared her throat. "Tall."

"He's tall?"

"Yep." She nodded, gluing her eyes on the dashboard.

"And … that's it?"

"Yep." Couldn't she just hide in a hole now? Anything was better than answering these questions.

"Wow," Finn said, nodding. "Wow." He turned to her, those wide friendly lips bubbling in a smile. "He sounds amazing, Rey."

She cracked, laughter breaking the tension. They only stopped when there was a loud bang beneath them and the car began to tilt with a recurring thump.

"Ah, crap!" Finn stuck his head out the window, trying to see the damage.

"What was that?"

"I dunno. But it's blown the tyre." He looked back again. "I don't have time for this."

"It's okay. I can change it for you. You got a spare?"

Finn sunk into the driver's seat, avoiding her gaze. "That was the spare."

"Oh."

The thumping sound slowed as the car pulled over to the side, crawling along the shoulder in the shadow of wind-tossed maple trees that let through tiny pinpricks of rain every time a gale blew.

"Tell me again, what did they teach in that military academy you went to?"

"How to kick butt, that's what! Care for me to show you?"

"Bring it on, soldier. I'll take you!" Rey laughed, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

They got out of the car, jostling and laughing until they were holding their sides and out of breath.

Meanwhile, the ash-coloured rain clouds had swarmed overhead, covering them with light rain and mist.

Rey wiped the light droplets from her forehead. "Seriously though, what are we going to do? You can't miss your interview."

Finn stared at the car, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Not much we can do. I'll call Poe and let him know what's happened. But first, I need to pee."

He wandered away from the road and into the bush.

Rey shivered, listening to the melodious rumble of thunder rolling overhead like a giant stone. The wind picked up, blowing a sleeting rush of rain across her cheeks. In the distance, she could hear another vehicle and when she looked up a pair of lights were coming at them from the end of the road.

She looked back at Finn. He hadn't even noticed the car. It was travelling far faster than the speed limit and as it approached, the warm yellow lights bounced off the slick grey road creating a line of light before it.

Rey bit her lip, calculating a risk. In a flash, she'd shoved her thumb in the air, walking backwards along the side of the road, eyes fixed on the oncoming car.

Tyres screeched on wet bitumen and she held her breath as the eighties-style silver car with butterfly doors came to a sharp stop beside her.

A Millennium Falcon. She beamed at it, as Finn ran up to meet her.

"Are you mad?" he hissed. "He could be a psycho, a murderer, a…"

Finn closed his mouth as the driver's side window came down with a whir.

Rey strolled up to it, ignoring the way Finn pawed at her hand to come back. "Thanks for stopping."

"You could have given me more warning," a male voice grated out the window.

"I wasn't sure you would have stopped," she said, catching sight of an overactive Newfoundland dog dashing around the back seat in a blur of hazelnut-coloured fur. "Aren't you a beautiful guy!"

The dog barked at her excitedly, trying to nuzzle past the front seat to lick her.

The driver got out, walking over to her with a slight bend in his back, straightening with each step.

"His name's Chewie, and don't be fooled, he'll rip your arms out of its sockets if you cross him."

"I wouldn't believe that for a minute."

Finn came up to meet them, wiping his hands on his pants.

"We blew a tyre back there," Rey said. "Can you help us out?"

"I don't think—" Finn began but even as he spoke the man flipped the front seat forward indicating for him to get in.

"I'll take you as far as the next petrol station. Where are you headed?"

"You probably won't even know it," Finn rushed. Rey noted the way he'd brushed his eyes over the car, lingering on the ripped leather seats and rubbish scattered on the floor. "It's just one of the houses around here…"

"Try me." Han was gruff and Rey suspected he'd also noticed the way Finn had looked at the car like she was a pile of junk. If only he knew. A Millennium Falcon was far more than outward appearances. It was the way she moved, the speed, the old-world devil-may-care character —

"Senator Organa-Solo. I've got an appointment with her."

Rey's mouth hung in shock. "You do?"

Finn nodded, buoyed by her reaction.

"Yeah. It's a pretty big deal."

"Well, big deal, jump on in. I'm on my way home, anyway."

Home?

Rey stared at the man, noticing the familiar long nose and narrow face. Time had worn away some of his good looks, but it didn't take much imagination to see the man that he once was. Han Solo, four-time winner of the Kessel Run, a notorious scoundrel—

Ben's dad.

"You're lucky I found you, the Senator doesn't like to be kept waiting. Get in back. We're not more than five minutes away."

Han stepped back, holding the door open for Rey as she scrambled in the front seat, no longer able to meet his eye.

Her hands shook as she secured the belt, heat rising in her cheeks.

"So, what's your story?"

"Mine?" she stammered. "I don't have a story."

"Right. What's your name then, kid?"

"Rey." She flicked her eyes up at him before pulling the door closed and trying not to gauge his reaction. "You know, with an 'e'."

He held his chin, nodding, and for a fleeting moment, Rey had the startling realisation that he'd seemed to recognise her name. But when Han got in the driver's chair, he just he revved the engine and said: "Rey? What kind of name is that?"

Rey had never seen such richness in her life. The estate and its grounds were breathtaking, even under the grey hue of the passing rain clouds. All around them, long verdant grass stretched out before them. Before the mansion was a pond, flooded from earlier downpours; even now raindrops tickled the surface of the water in tiny radiating waves. A worn fountain lay at its centre, dripping a steady stream of water like a leaking tap. They stood before the oak doors as Han wiped his muddy boots on the cement and ushered them inside.

The sound of Rey's heart competed with the roar of thunder as she stepped over the threshold into what must have been Ben's childhood home. Han showed them through a long narrow corridor lined with photo frames, while Chewie nuzzled into the back of her hand.

She felt a stab of pain as she spotted the familiar flop of black hair in the photos, each one of them sending an electric charge to her heart. With every step, she passed a story of Ben's life, as he transformed from a stocky, doe-eyed toddler with grazed knees to an awkward teenager who hadn't grown into his long arms and legs. The last photo was of Ben in his karate uniform, smiling proudly, his parents on either side of him sharing his enthusiasm.

That was the last photo they had of him. The rest of the hallway was empty, hospital-white in contrast, like life had stopped from that point.

By the time they reached the end of the hall, Rey noticed the older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a regal expression standing in the lounge room. Rey's breath caught at the sight of her. Ben's mother. Yes, she could see the resemblance in her dark, intelligent eyes and the proud way she held herself. This was a woman who would never bow before anyone. She was magnificent. There was no other word that came to mind.

"You must be Finn. I'm so happy you got here safely. Poe called me about your car troubles." She turned to him. "It was lucky Han found you on his way back from town."

"Senator Organa-Solo, it's an honour."

"Call me Leia, please." She turned to Rey then, regarding her with an odd expression. "And you are...?"

"Rey." The word was blurted out, and she pushed her hand towards the Senator a little overzealously. Finn raised an eyebrow at her, but she dared not look at him. She already knew she was being awkward. "I'm here as a friend to Finn."

Leia reached her hand, wrapping it in her own, a smile spreading across lips and sparkling in her eyes. "Rey," she repeated. "I'm very happy to meet you."

The tight press of Leia's hands filled Rey with warmth and time slowed to a crawl. How lucky Ben was to have a mother. Did he even know what a blessing that was?

Rey blinked, pushing the thought of him away.

"Rey's helping me on the Snoke story, too."

"I see," Leia nodded. A small line spread across her brow as she indicated for them to sit.

Finn pulled out his notepad and phone, and the sky burst with loud clamouring rain, pelting against the glass.

For a moment, Leia's guarded expression faltered as she looked to Han, who was already staring out into the grounds, pacing like the scurrying raindrops making lines down the windows. He turned back to Leia, shaking his head, and she sat back in her chair, mask back on.

"So, Senator Organa-Solo—Leia, I wanted to ask you about your decision to return to politics after all these years?"

Leia cleared her throat, her voice was low and rusty, like she had spent a lifetime delivering speeches. "I hadn't planned on returning, but when I see our political system being flaunted and abused by the current government with their hands chained to the pockets of larger corporations, I couldn't stand by any longer. It has gone on long enough."

Leia looked up at Han, but he was not listening. Instead, he still paced by the window, growing more and more restless.

"It has been … difficult on my family," she said haltingly. "But they stand by my decision to run again…"

"Your family is happy with your decision?" Rey could have slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Finn peered at her with an expression as if to say what the hell?

"Yes, I believe so," Leia answered stiffly.

"All of them?" She couldn't stop herself, her words were like knee-jerk reactions.

Leia's face twitched. "My husband has always supported my political career."

"And your son?"

What the hell was possessing her to keep going?

"My son?"

Rey sighed. She'd dug this hole, she may as well keep going. "Doesn't taking up the helm of the Resistance put him in a position to be under more scrutiny, or worse, blackmailed?" She stumbled at her words. "'Them', I mean to say. Not 'him'."

Finn choked, poking her in the side with a sharp but subtle elbow jab.

"Excuse me?" Leia seemed incredulous at the line of questioning, her gaze searching for Han even more so, almost demanding him to look at her. But he wasn't there anymore and through the heavy lines of rain, Rey could make out his form heading out into the grounds.

Leia composed herself, not missing a beat. "I've always kept my son out of the media spotlight."

"But that hasn't stopped him from being a target though." The words rushed out of her again.

Rey's flushed with colour, astounded at how defensive she had gotten.

There was a beat and Leia stood then, smiling at them both. "Give me a minute, please."

She left the room, opening the French glass door panels and standing under a small alcove. Leia's outline glowed beneath a dull outside light, lines of rain provided a backdrop to her stoic figure, drowning out every other sound.

Eventually, Han emerged, running slightly, out of breath. He leant in close to her ear; they could have been shouting for all Rey could hear amidst the constant clamour of the rainstorm. Leia raised her chin, brows furrowed as she spoke to Han, and biting her lip when she listened. Rey leant forward, trying to imagine she could lip-read, and that's when Leia looked straight at her.

Rey turned away in a flash, only to be faced with a very angry-looking Finn.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Huh?" she asked, refusing to meet his eye.

"Why are you asking her about her son? Everyone knows she doesn't like to talk about him."

Rey shook her head, overcome with shame. The last thing she wanted was to mess this up for Finn … but, being here, before his parents, knowing what challenges Ben was facing alone right now. How could she not fight for him if no one else would?

"I'm sorry," she whispered back. "But don't you think it's worth asking?"

"No," Finn said through gritted teeth. "Not if it will cost us the whole interview. The only reason Leia agreed to do this was as a special favour to Poe."

Leia returned from outside. As she did a fresh zephyr of wind swept in through the sitting room. The cloud burst had passed now, leaving only a small drizzle of mist-like rain floating in the outside air once more.

Her mask was unreadable. She was seasoned at concealing her expressions, something her son had never learnt.

Nor Rey, obviously.

She attempted to apologise when Leia spoke up, interrupting them.

"Do you know my son?" she asked, the question to both of them, but Leia clearly directed the words at Rey.

"We met in town the other day," Finn replied.

"And you?" Rey's cheeks glowed at the way Leia stared her down, almost like she knew what they had done together in the privacy of her apartment.

"As Finn said," she mumbled. "Poe introduced us."

"He must have made quite an impression on you then."

Rey gaped, speechless for the first time.

"I—"

Fuck. She scrambled for words and every one of them failed her.

"I appreciate your concern with my family," Leia said. "But you won't find what you're looking for here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ..."

Oh, God. She had messed this up so much.

"Perhaps, you could take a walk about the grounds while Finn and I finish this. The rain has stopped now. Who knows, it might give you the answers you're looking for."

Was she really being kicked out? Rey's face felt hot with humiliation and guilt. Without saying another word, she got up and walked over to the double bay doors where Han waited, smiling.

"Don't be offended, she gets very defensive about Ben," he said, and then raising his voice again. "And she likes to order people about. It gives her something to do."

"I'll give you something to do, you scoundrel" Leia snapped at Han, but her expression was fresh, all mischievous joy. "Where should Rey go?"

Han and Leia's exchanged a look, and Rey could have sworn there was some kind of conspiracy brewing between them. Han opened the door, handing her a large golf umbrella.

"There's a small pond by the cliff face. It looks out over the ocean. You'll find it if you head north through the rose garden and cross the bridge over the brook," he said, adding, "You'll know it when you see it."

Rey nodded, glancing back at Finn one last time. He was now deep in conversation with Leia, scribbling notes on his pad without even noticing she was leaving.

She sighed, pushing open the umbrella and with a fleeting smile at Han, embraced her banishment.

Rey slipped off a pair of shoes and stepped out onto the wet grass. It was freeing to be outside, no longer in danger of saying or doing the wrong thing. Overhead, a breathy roar of wind thrashed through the canopies of silver eucalyptus trees. The daylight was fading into twilight, with the sun trapped between grey storm clouds and a grey sea.

She began walking, enjoying the way her toes sunk into the overgrown grass. The air was crisper and brighter now that the rain had passed. She stepped over a small bridge that passed an overflowing brook, and she cleaned her feet in the water, listening to the sounds of nature coming back to life after the downpour.

Seagulls called from the cliff face, frogs croaked by the pond and the wind continued to roar like distant rivers, the quiet backdrop to it all.

Rey let the sounds fill her senses, and it didn't take long until her thoughts turned inward, thinking back to the morning when she and Ben had made love. For one moment, she had been so blissfully, divinely happy.

Perhaps they could have that again.

Even after … everything.

She felt close to him here, walking through the grounds of his childhood. Longing for him to be here, telling her where he used to play as a boy, the secret hideaways and mystical forests that made up imaginings of youth.

In the dim light ahead there was a large pond that stretched out to the edge of the cliff, dotted with fading solar lights and white lilies. The young trees around the edge cast long slim shadows on the ground, shivering and swaying dark shapes upon the ground.

But one of those shadows moved against the others.

Rey squinted, trying to make it out … large, hands in pockets, hair wet and stuck to his long thoughtful face, his gaze fixed to the ground.

Rey pressed a hand over her heart. How long had he been out here in the rain? Did he even know she was here?

"Ben!" she cried out.

He froze, slowly turning to see her. His face was pale and shiny with rain. Even in the darkness, she could see how he shivered.

Ben hadn't moved, and nor had she. Then she felt a wave of tenderness wash over her and the stillness shattered. She ran, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him everywhere she could reach.

Chilled hands pressed into the small of her back, tucking her into his body.

"What are you doing here?" his voice croaked, barely audible. "I thought—"

"You saved me!" She pressed her cheek to his chest, holding him close as her breath came in halted sobs. "Thank you."