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wooahaeruby · 1 month ago

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Chapter 37: A Very SVT Christmas

Chapter Word Count: 10,612

None! This is the peace we needed c:

Author's note: HI, I'VE HAD THE WORST LUCK RECENTLY, 2 BROKEN PHONES, 1 KNEW PHONE, A BROKEN WASHING MACHINE, AND I WAS DYING. Anyways, I'm working hard on this, please be patient with me :D <3

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“So…” You took a long sips from the milkshake you ordered from the diner, raising a brow at Seokmin who sat close to you on the couch. “Christmas makes everyone…nice?”

“Okay, well, I wouldn’t say nice.” Seokmin munched on some of his fries, kicking his sock covered feet up on the coffee table. “More like…everyone kinda agreed years ago that the holidays are off limits for any turf wars, gang on gang violence, and mob shit. So no drug pushing, cartel product moving, nothing until January second. After that, it’s all fair game again.”

“You know, Min, the more and more you feed me mafia information, the more I believe I’m in some sorta coma and my mind is making shit up.” You used a chicken tender to point at him. “You mafia people are weird as fuck.”

“ Us mafia people, Mouse. Stop acting like you aren’t in on all this. You are friends with the 99 line for fuck sake.”

“I feel if I am to accept the fact I am part of the mafia then I might turn crazy and start killing people.”

Seokmin threw his head back in laughter, shoulders shaking and a wide smile spread on his face. “Honestly, you are so right and I can’t deny that. Though, we wouldn’t let you go on a killing spree. Promise.”

“Um, excuse me,” Clicking your tongue, you took a bite of chicken. “You completely underestimate my affinity for crazy, Seokmin.”

“I definitely do, but I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt. I don’t see you as some big shot street crawler, but you are currently dating and sleeping with two of the bosses here.”

Nodding, you could agree on that. “Yeah, you're right. I’m too much of a homebody to be a vigilante. Only in my dreams I guess.”

“Oh!” Seokmin wiggled in his spot beside you, shifting to better face you. “Are you ready for a SVT Christmas?”

“Dear god, no.” You slouched down, hugging yourself. “I got all the presents but Chan said you guys go all out.”

“It isn’t that bad.” He reassured, “The guys just get all excited. Plus…nice gifts are fun. We really try to keep it a secret from each other about what we get unless people team up.”

“Excited,” You snorted, frowning. “Joshua said the presents get open at six in the morning, big breakfast, and everyone spends the whole day together.”

“Eh. Cheol said no more six in the morning presents, but Mingyu likes cooking and making desserts. It’s a big family affair. He really wants to cook with you.”

You smiled, sighing quietly. “You know, this will be the first Christmas since I started college that I’ll be spending with people.”

Seokmin leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. “Don’t worry, honey, we will make it a Christmas you won’t forget.”

“This better be, I’m nervous you guys won’t like the gifts I got.” You let him hug you, even returning it just as tightly.

“It’s always the thought that counts, no matter what.”

Earlier in the morning, earlier than Jeonghan really wanted to be awake, Mouse crawled out of bed much to his disdain. Joshua ended up being his own heat source but he was too much of a light sleeper to curl back up and go back to sleep. She quietly and quickly scurried back into the room and went directly into the closet. He raised his head when the closet door was shut then opened a few minutes later, seeing her in multiple layers before rushing back out, boots in hand. He, rightfully confused, got up and stepped down the hall towards the living room, seeing the thick blanket of snow that started late the previous night.

Mouse was out by herself, shuffling through the snow in a mix of his, Joshua’s, and her clothes. She looked so happy standing under the still falling snow, stunning really – even if the layers looked a little ridiculous. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and dragged a chair by the glass door. Jeonghan gladly sat and watched her play in the snow, smiling to himself at how ecstatic she looked.

Mingyu emerged from his room, half dressed and half asleep, perking up when he noticed Jeonghan, a sound of question leaving him. He simply nodded his head towards the backyard where his girlfriend started to make a snowman to the best of her abilities. The taller man nearly skipped back to his room and Jeonghan could hear Mingyu bothering Chan to get dressed to go out in the snow with her.

The pitter-patter of socked feet had him looking away from Mouse, finding Mingyu and Chan dressed for the freezing weather.

“That was fast.” Jeonghan clicked his tongue, wrapping the blanket snugly around himself.

Chan slid on the boots in his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “This is the most snow we’ve had in ages! Plus, I wanna play in the snow with Mouse.”

“And everyone is still knocked out.” Mingyu rushed out the door, calling out to the woman.

Jeonghan simply sat, returning to his observation, sighing with a smile. Mingyu started a snowball fight the moment Mouse was in range. There was an unspoken conversation between Chan and his girlfriend, something evil behind their bright eyes when their gazes met. When whatever communication ended, they both turned on Mingyu. Snowball after snowball, the two youngest pelted the taller man despite his attempts to fight back against them.

By the time Jeonghan got up to make himself a cup of coffee and settled back down in his seat, Mingyu had given up, hands raised in surrender as he retreated towards the backdoor though the snowball assault didn’t end. The attack stopped the moment the sliding door cracked open and Mouse sent a beaming smile Jeonghan’s way.

“Those two are brutal.” Mingyu huffed out a breath he was trying to catch. “They teamed up and everything.”

Jeonghan let out a silent, breathy laugh through his nose, raising his mug to take a sip of his drink. “They are living their childhood dreams and you were the perfect, easy target. I would’ve been surprised if they didn’t team up against you.”

Mingyu stripped out of his shoes and heavy jacket, shivering violently. He quickly made himself a cup of coffee, turning to the sound of a yawn coming from the hallway. Seokmin trudged into the living room, clothes wrinkled and hair sticking up in a thousand different directions. He barely muttered a good morning as he joined Mingyu for a cup of coffee.

“Pancakes?” Jeonghan questioned, peering over and watching Mingyu start to pull out bowls and pans, along with his favorite countertop griddle to make the usually large morning meal.

“With bacon, eggs, and those little breakfast sausages that Cheol likes since he bought them.”

“Mornin’.” Joshua grumbled, leaning himself over the kitchen island tiredly. He stretched out his arms and legs before moving to silently help the other two in the prep and cooking.

Looking back out the doors, Chan was tackled into the snow by Mouse, almost entirely covered by the white fluff on the ground. Jeonghan let out an oof, cringing at the wrestling that started between the two of them, seeing her press snow into his face before he managed to shove snow down the back of her jacket. Mouse screamed out a curse as Chan chuckled in victory.

“They are going to catch a cold.” Seokmin giggled, placing the eggs in a pan to cook, looking out the window over the sink.

“Ah, they’ll be fine.” Standing from his seat, Jeonghan started to grab dishes needed to set the table, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before everything was finished.

When everything was placed to his satisfaction, Jeonghan slid back into the kitchen, keeping to the corner where the warm drink mixes were usually kept; tea, coffee, etcetera. He got two mugs out to make Mouse’s hot chocolate for her and Chan. Humming to himself, he tried his best to make it exactly like she did but it never came out the same. Mouse always said his attempts were perfect but he also knew her versions were top tier, the absolute best.

Carefully he walked the mugs over to Chan and Mouse’s usual seats to cool just enough to not burn their tongues. He huffed as he opened the sliding glass door, the chill sending a shiver down his spine.

“Chan, Mouse, breakfast soon!”

Both their heads whipped over, snow in hand to throw but it was quickly dropped and they stumbled through the snow towards the door. He stepped aside to let them in, helping with their coats and handing them up while they removed their shows. Chan cheered out a thanks, skipping off to warm up his bones. Mouse wrapped herself around Jeonghan’s waist, sapping his warmth.

“Good morning.” Her teeth chattered together quietly as she warmed up.

Jeonghan wrapped his arms around her snugly, running his hands up and down her back. “Good morning, my love.”

“ ‘m sorry if I woke you and Shua.”

“Me, yes, always. Him? I don’t know how he can sleep so deeply at times.” He chuckled, kissing her head. “I tried to make your hot chocolate for you and Chan.”

She lit up, bright eyes looking up at him before pulling away. “Thank you, babe!”

Jeonghan shrugged it off, just content seeing her happy any chance he could. He had been hoping the holidays would help lift her spirits even if it was a smidge.

“Mouse, do you wanna do something later for me?” Joshua asked, placing one of the many plates down on the table.

Mingyu gasped and Joshua snickered, seeing him nod. She frowned at the two of them, sipping the drink Jeonghan made for her. She raised a brow at him curiously but Jeonghan shrugged. Of course he knew what Joshua was going to ask but wasn’t going to ruin anything for the other man.

Jeonghan watched as his counterpart rounded the table and wrapped his arms loosely around Mouse’s waist.

“So we usually have Chan do it, but…” Joshua smiled sweetly down at her. “Chan gave up his job willingly so you could place the star on the top of the Christmas tree.”

Leaning over the back of Seungcheol’s chair, Jeonghan watched as their girlfriend peeked over to the large Christmas tree placed in the living room near the front windows, beside the TV. It was missing the usual large star that sat on top. The last few years, Chan would climb up the ladder and place it, but he suggested that Mouse do it as her first Christmas with them. Joshua and Mingyu thought it was a great idea knowing she hadn’t done much for the holidays.

“The star…?” She stared over at the tree but looked back at Joshua with a nod. “I’d love to do that.”

There was this…gooey, warm and fuzzy feeling in Jeonghan’s chest, a smile spreading on his lips. She gave a kiss to Joshua’s lips before he was breaking off to finish helping with breakfast. Seokmin asked Chan to start getting everyone up to eat, leaving Mouse to slide her way under Jeonghan’s arm once more.

“Why are you smiling like that?” She whispered, peering up curiously.

Jeonghan pulled her close, tightly wrapping his long arms around her so she couldn’t easily escape. “I dunno, baby, maybe I’m just in love with you.”

Her cheeks flushed a dark pink and he swore he could see stars in her eyes.

“Get a room~” Seokmin said in a sing-song voice and both Jeonghan and Mouse rolled their eyes.

“Oh trust me, we can and will get a room.” He smirked as Mouse hit him on the chest.

“Jeonghan!”

“No, Mingyu- Do not pick me up-” Mingyu’s hands were already on you, easily lifting you as you struggled in his hold.

You were just about to climb up the ladder when he grabbed you as a joke and lifted you up. He had been a little annoying all day, following you around as he wished the evening would come sooner so the star could be placed on top and the tree could be lit.

“Put me down!” You hollered out, wiggling in his grasp. “I will kick you!”

Chan laughed along with the giant, even a few others in the group joining in.

“No you won-”

You accidentally kicked back and hit him right in the groin and Mingyu crumbled. The loud uproar of laughter nearly overshadowed his pained groan. Once your feet hit the ground, you turned to Mingyu, seeing him on the floor, hands covering his crotch.

“Note to self,” He wheezed out a breath, trying to collect himself. “Don’t pick up Mouse.”

“That should have been obvious, dude.” Vernon chuckled, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know what you expected to happen.”

“I am so sorry.” You kneeled down, panic in your eyes since you never intended to kick him there.

“Don’t feel sorry, he deserved it.” Seungcheol shuffled in, grabbing two decently wrapped presents on the couch to place under the tree.

“I just wanted to help you get the star up.” Mingyu pouted, sitting back on his feet.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “That is what the ladder is for!”

“Don’t yell at me! You kicked me in the balls!”

“Keep talking and I’ll kick you in the face!”

“You are a menace to society!”

“Good!” You crossed your arms, star still in hand and you stood tall. “Don’t forget it.”

“Come on, up the ladder.” Joshua defused the situation quickly, guiding you towards the four-step ladder.

You childishly stuck your tongue out as Mingyu now that he mostly recovered from your kick, letting your boyfriend usher you. Joshua held the ladder steady as you climbed, getting to the top and balanced yourself as you stood at the top. Reaching up, you ever so gently placed the star atop the artificial tree. When you were satisfied with how it was placed, making sure it was straight, you descended, looking up at your handy work. With a curt nod, you turned to look at all the guys.

“Ta-da!” You Will Smith memed the tree, noticing Seungkwan’s phone raised and aimed at you.

You gave him a little shimmy of your shoulders to make him and Vernon laugh as Chan bounded over towards the light switches and Jun was up and ready to plug in the tree. When the lights were flicked off and in the dark of the living room, the Christmas tree came to life when Joshua pushed a button on the small remote.

From bottom to top, the lights ingrained in the tree went on in a straight white pattern before Joshua pushed another button and they transitioned to a rainbow spiritual starting at the base. You watched with wide eyes at the different effects it had, never having a tree as nice to see such a fancy display.

Joshua placed his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. You took a deep breath, smiling pleasantly as the lights went solid white once more and the lights flickered back on.

“Hmm, maybe I am feeling some holiday spirit.” You admitted, leaning your head against your boyfriend’s chest, staring at the tree.

“Good, I want you to have a good Christmas, sweetheart.” He tilted your chin up and kissed you sweetly, feeling him smile against your lips.

“Right in front of my salad?” Seungkwan asked and you raised your hand to flip him the middle finger.

“Do your mushy couple shit somewhere else.”

There was a devious glint in Joshua’s eyes that you didn’t like. It was only a second before you were dipped back, hand on your ass, and he was kissing you again, this time rougher. If you could, you would have been laughing but up until this point, a majority of Joshua’s affection was slow, sensual even when things got heated.

You noted the sounds of complaint and retching from your friends, but a laugh came from Jeonghan. Joshua pulled your back up, moving away some to throw a smirk as some boos were also thrown out. Your cheeks were flushed and you turned your head away, not wanting them to see how flustered you were.

“You guys are nasty.” Jihoon griped and one peek at Joshua showed his eyes lighting up once more.

“Nope, no, do not-” You escaped his arms and ran straight into Soonyoung’s waiting ones.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Shua?” You gasped as Soonyoung bundled you up close to his chest. “Demon.”

Mingyu jumped into your other side, holding you along with the other. “We’ll protect you, Mouse!”

You stuck your tongue out at your boyfriend and Seungcheol cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

“Make sure presents are under the tree before Christmas day, by the way.” He sent a glare to Vernon then Jun, both avoiding his gaze. “Last year some people nearly lost some of their gifts because they weren’t placed in the living room to not lose them.”

“Oh come on.” Vernon crossed his arms and Jun only grinned and snickered.

“Don’t ‘come on’ me. Soonyoung at least can follow the simple instructions and his room is a minefield of shit.”

“Okay, he isn’t wrong…” Soonyoung muttered and you covered your mouth to hold in a laugh. “I’ll admit that I’m messy.”

“I’m hiding the mistletoe!” Mingyu parked up, grinning wide. “Been thinking of hiding spots all year.”

“Oh god.” You cringed, shaking your head with a smile. “Why mistletoe?”

“Because everyone deserves a kiss!” Seokmin chuckled, biting on the tip of his tongue.

Mingyu placed a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek and you pushed him away with a squeak. Wiping his spit off with his sleeve, you whined at how gross he was.

“There will be a lot more of that where those came from. Whoever has got the most mistletoe kisses by the end of the night gets another gift and this year Cheol gets to provide it.”

“First year we did this, Minghao had to provide it, then last year it was Wonwoo.” Soonyoung filled you in thankfully, still keeping you wrapped up in his arms.

“And I’m keeping it a secret until then.” Seungcheol spoke smugly, a smirk on his lips.

“You rang?” Sona stepped into your apartment, stopping as she noticed the mess you were working on cleaning before Chan would pick you up. “Did a baking tornado rip through here?”

“No, uh, sorry.” You placed some mixing bowls in the dishwasher, along with some measuring cups and spatulas. “I was baking seven batches of brownies, some for 99 line Christmas to take home with them for everyone else. Lost track of time but they are all in my ovens.”

Quickly rinsing off your hands and dusting your apron of any flour, you moved towards her with a small hop in your step. Sona raised a brow and tilted her head to the side in curiosity.

“Okay, so I know you said I shouldn’t have to, but I got you a gift for Christmas.” You smiled at her, hearing a scoff and shaking her head.

“You are ridiculous, but I…did do the same.” Her features broke into a smile, dropping her head with a huff. “Let me go grab it.”

You cheered as she hurried out and you sprinted down the hall to get the recently wrapped gift box. It was placed atop the pile of presents you needed to take up to the house, along with your small suitcase since Seokmin and you would be heading here from the house to work through the week between Christmas and New Years.

It was, in fact, the day before Christmas either way. In a little while you’d pack everything into Chan’s car, head to the 99 line party, then head up to the house. You were so lucky that the 99 line settled on a Secret Santa rather than getting everyone present for the gift exchange. You’d have enough time to place everything under the tree at the house with the rest of the gifts then crash before the festivities started.

Over a week ago, a sealed envelope was given to you by one of SVT’s men who stated it had been delivered by one of ATZ’s people. It was a note that told you who your gift was for, which ended up being Yeosang, and that there was a five hundred dollar spending limit. Wooyoung had texted the groupchat to start gift hunting and they could figure out a day to chill another time and exchange.

You sat at the kitchen island as your pans of brownies baked, drumming your fingers over the box until your door opened once more. Sona walked in with a simple gift bag, tissue paper sticking out along with an envelope.

“I want to admit that one part of this gift here is for both of us on my dime.” She commented and you chuckled, motioning her over.

“Not a problem.” You slid the box over to her once she sat down and she placed the bag in front of you. “You first, Sona.”

Sona huffed, smiling gently as she tore off the purple wrapping paper and opened the box, letting out a laugh at the contents. One after another, she pulled out five large makeup pallets you had ordered. They were new releases, you stayed up a few nights on their drop dates and spent a good bit on them. Thankfully, for once, you weren’t overly worried about the cost you spent.

“Damn, how did you know?” She opened each of them, loving over the wide variety of colors and shimmers she could use.

You grinned, resting your elbow on the table and your head in your hand. “When you did my makeup for the gala and the ball, you always had the newest pallets in your case from these brands so…ta-da!”

Sona closed the pallets, stacking them nearly and nodding her head towards the gift bag. You took the envelope out first and placed it down, digging to pull out the bottle of wine. Your eyes ran over it, seeing the date, an older, definitely expensive bottle from France from what you could tell. Once you were content with the wine, eyes having looked over every inch, you reached for the envelope, practically vibrating in your spot.

“No way!” You read over the papers, beaming from ear to ear. “You did not.”

“Oh I did.” Sona giggled, watching you continue to read. “I think after all this shit, we both need it.”

“Three days, two nights, all inclusive spa resort for four- Wait. Four?”

“So, it was mainly for you and I, but there was a deal for four people and I thought you could bring Gahyeon or one of the other girls and I could bring Lex, all on me.”

“That sounds…” You paused, narrowing your eyes as a mischievous grin spreading on your face. “Lex, Huh?”

“Not this again, Mouse, we are just friends.” Sona groaned, dropping her head. “Nothing is going on between us.”

“Mhmm, nothing. Keep telling yourself that, babes. Nothing yet.” You winked but opened your arms for a hug.

Sona pulled you into a hug, resting her head on your shoulder, holding you tightly. “Thanks, Mouse, and Merry Christmas.”

You sighed happily, rubbing her back. “Merry Christmas, Sona. I’ll see you after New Years.”

She moved back, holding onto your forearms gently, looking at you almost with a hint of melancholy in her eyes. “First vacation in a while. I dunno, I might miss hanging out with you.”

“You’ll make me blush.” You swooned dramatically. “Enjoy your vacation and your new makeup pallets…Tell Lex I said Hi.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll schedule the weekend for the spa trip after the holidays.”

“Oh for sure.”

Sona gathered the bow into her arms and bid you a goodbye before leaving. One glance at the timer for the brownies told you that there was plenty of time to change and throw on a little makeup. You were pulling the brownies out of the oven when Chan came in. With haste, you placed them aside to cool and hurried over to greet him gleefully. He explained that he borrowed Minghao’s SUV since he was already home to take whatever you had to the party to the house. When he ended up seeing just how many assorted boxes needed to be brought, Chan asked a few of their men downstairs to help. You were so glad you baked more than just brownies recently, offering them a whole batch of cookies when they took the last of the boxes. The men took the container at your insistence and you could see their barely there smiles as you wished them a happy holidays.

The moment the brownies seemed cool enough to transfer, you divided them into the extra containers you bought and set off towards the small restaurant Changbin chose for the evening, or well – he booked the entire place. Main reason you brought the brownies was for them to take home to their groups since you couldn’t do anything else for them.

You grabbed the present for Yeosang out of the back, grinning to yourself at the item inside. It took a few minutes to simply find the item, surprisingly, but two weeks to arrive at your doorstep. You received it in the mail the previous night and scrambled to get a box and wrapping paper together to wrap it.

“You good?” Chan pulled his own simple box from the car, an unknown gift for an unknown Secret Santa.

Giving a nod, you stood beside him with the brownies in a bag and the present. “You’ll be okay to drive later?”

“Mhmm. I’m not drinking tonight.” He bumped his hip against yours, locking the car as you both strided into the restaurant.

“Merry Christmas!” Wooyoung nearly barreled into the two of you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek and a gross wet one to Chan’s.

“Ew! Fuck off.” Chan wiped his cheek off, cringing and frowning. “You kissed her all nice and kissed my cheek like you are a dog.”

“Because I treat women well.”

“That is a lie.” Gahyeon strided over, dressed down in a sweater half tucked into light jeans. “You treat Mouse like a lady sometimes and me like you are an annoying little brother.”

“And I still treat you better than I do the rest of these idiots.” Wooyoung hummed, nodding his head back towards the others. “Come on, let's sit since food is gonna be ready soon.”

You happily greeted the rest of the 99 line, giving hugs and big squeezes. You placed your present on the wall behind you, taking a seat between Yeosang and Yeonjun, teasing the former for his bright dyed orange hair. He explained that he lost a bet but even then it did look good, which Yeonjun appreciated.

The food was amazing, the minimal staff was amazing and attentive, and you were glad to have a simple night. Chan had informed you in the car that they had security watching the perimeter of the building, the ground understanding the anxiety you had being in public, even if all of them were more than able to protect you. Some were drinking, you agreed on a glass of wine as you ate and Chan kept his word that he wasn’t drinking, along with San, Mingi, and Wooyoung.

San and Yunho were on a tangent about some event in League of Legends, specifically the TFT side, and it was getting loud. Wooyoung joined the conversation and Yeosang sighed, shaking his head at their over the top behavior. You chose to stay quiet since you hadn’t used your computer to play any games in a while, leaning into Yeosang’s space when Yeonjun got involved, wanting to preserve your hearing. They went on for a while as dinner was eating. Wooyoung almost threw a piece of bread, which Changbin stopped, and you were glad they were mostly sober, minus a drink or two.

“Okay, you guys are getting overly rambunctious.” Chan spoke up, grinning despite their lively, weird banter. “Presents before dessert?”

With the questions posed, the main course was quickly finished and plates were taken away. Everyone grabbed their presents, eyeing each other to make guesses at who was whose Secret Santa.

“Whose first?” Mingi gazed about, leg bouncing with pent up energy.

“Youngest or oldest?”

“So Gahyeon or Wooyoung?”

“Oh, I wanna go!” Gahyeon placed the small, square Swarovski box on the table, smiling wide. She handed the bow closed box across the table to you. “I was lucky enough to get Mouse for this.”

You laughed through your nose, taking the present and undid the bow, gingerly opening it. Inside, you laid your eyes on a cuff bracelet, silver in an infinite style band design. You lifted it from the box, letting out a small hum of amazement, examining the crystals in their settings. You undid the hinge clasp and slid it around your wrist.

“ ‘Hyeon.” You pouted, lifting your eyes to meet her wide, bright gaze. “It’s so pretty, thank you.”

The woman continued to smile across the table, eyes shining in the lights. She lifted her arm and pushed her sleeve up, revealing the same bracelet in gold around her wrist. You whined, bringing your hand up to your heart and pouted even more.

“Now you can never escape me.” She winked. “Your turn to give your gift.”

“Oh, yeah.” You lifted the rectangular box from your lap and handed it over to Yeosang beside you. “This is for you.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise but a shy smile made its way onto his lips. He tore the paper and balled it up before lifting the lid on the box. You watched as his eyes widened at the limited edition skateboard with black and red designs all over it with matching grip tape. Yeosang took it into his hands and you moved the box to let him examine it thoroughly, flipping it over in his hands.

“How did-”

“At karaoke you said that you like to collect them and ride skateboards so…” You shrugged. “I had Channie help with the colors.”

He thanked you, a breathy chuckle leaving him and a wide, timid smile continued to spread on his lips. “I’ll make sure it gets good use.”

Yeosang’s gift ended up being for Wooyoung, who had a few people eyeing the latter as he snickered but was thankful for the large designer duffle bag within the packaging. Yeosang said that his old one was getting messed up since he needed to travel a lot. Changbin was next to receive a gift. Wooyoung’s present to him was a thin but large box and Changbin was confused as he unwrapped it. Once the top was off, he scoffed but smiled broadly, pulling a nicely framed, signed horror movie posted. Wooyoung went on to say that he knew it wasn’t a part of the already existing collection so…

Changbin’s Secret Santa was Yeonjun, who was gifted a pair of simple diamond earrings since the latter lost his first pair when traveling and was bummed since they were a gift from Soobin. San was given his gift from Yeonjun, a three piece suit, designer of course, in a lovely dark purple color since he looked good in said style and color.

San was given Mingi to give a gift to, which came in the form of a matching ring and chain necklace set due to his love for jewelry. Mingi didn’t hesitate to slide them on happily as he thanked San, grinning wide. The aforementioned man passed his present over to Chan who tore into it with childlike fervor to reveal a pair of shoes, ones you knew he was looking to pre order but decided against it.

Chan was Yunho’s Secret Santa, handing the present over to the grabby hand man. He pulled off the ribbon around it, along with the top, and Yunho took hold of the jacket inside, humming excitedly as the long silhouette came into view. Chan snickers that Yunho’s last long jacket got ruined in a shoot out so it was necessary to get another.

Since Gahyeon was first, she was last to obtain a gift, having waited patiently. Yunho handed the box over and she opened it with hand, gently moving the tissue paper aside to pull out the designer handbag. She thanked him and ran her gaze over it as Yunho spoke up, stating that her old favorite bag fell to pieces from how much she used it, the hand strap even frayed to bits, and he wanted her to have another she liked.

With gift exchanging done and more gratitude passed around (along with many hugs), the staff on duty brought out dessert; chocolate lava cakes with vanilla ice cream. Yeosang asked you where you found the skateboard which you gladly explained, even pulling you your phone to show him. You hadn’t stopped smiling, laughing at jokes that were said, a light, warm feeling in your soul.

Goodbyes weren’t far behind dessert, all wanting to get home since it was getting late, with a big exchange of hugs, cheek kisses, and a promise for a meet up once the New Year started. You gave Gahyeon a tight hug, hearing her giggle as she squeezed you close to her body. She asked one of the others to take a picture of the two of you, to which Yunho took her phone and snapped a few happily. Chanbin asked a member of the restaurant staff to take a group shot, all of you scrunching together to fit into the frame well. All vibrant smiles spread on your faces.

Before you left, you handed out the containers of brownies, warning them that you were going to text other members of their group so the treats were shared, which made a few groan in disappointment.

Between you and Chan, it was loud the entire ride home, which wasn’t a big surprise. Despite how late it was, Chan continued to keep you smiling, through stories and horribly tuned karaoke. You did end up giving him a brownie when he started to beg, laughing as he almost dropped it, twice, while driving. He pulled into the garage to Minghao’s spot, peeking inside to find it quiet and most of the lights off.

He helped you as quietly as possible to take all the presents from the car, almost tripping over other gifts in the living room. You gave Chan a hug, whispering to sleep well and that you’d see him in the morning. He trailed you to Jeonghan’s room before wandering off towards his room.

Slipping into the room, you could hear the soft breathing from Joshua but saw the dimmed light of Jeonghan’s phone. His head shot up at the click of the door and you padded over to the closet with a wave at him. You changed quickly then disappeared into the bathroom to clean off your face and brush your hair. There was a quiet grumble of your name, you rolled your eyes as you flicked the light off and made your way over to where your boyfriends laid.

“Welcome home.” Jeonghan muttered, pulling you into his hold, letting you climb over him to the spot in between.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You slipped under the covers, feeling him snuggle into your side.

“Was worried about you. You didn’t answer my texts.”

Placing a kiss to his forehead, you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. “Sorry… Chan and I were having fun bullshitting. You can go to sleep now.”

He huffed, planting a kiss on your jawline. “Can I be the big spoon?”

“You wanna-?” You snickered and nodded, feeling his arms loosen so you could turn over.

He tugged you to his chest and you reached out to pull Joshua into the pile. The second man made an unknown sound but his body easily shifted to curl up with the two of you.

“Merry Christmas.” You muttered into Joshua’s hair and knocked out not long after.

“Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

You, Joshua, and Jeonghan were violently startled awake by Jun yelling into the room. When your groans of disapproval started, he jumped into bed across all of you. Jeonghan hit his back weakly while Jun laughed with childlike enjoyment but whined. Joshua pushed him away and you struggled under his (light) weight crushing you.

“Everyone got to sleep-in this year, wake up!” He rolled over and off the bed, checking his phone. “Almost nine in the morning, get up!”

Through the door, you could make out Soonyoung cheerfully yelling into someone’s room. Jun grinned once more before he scurried out, leaving the door wide open.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.” Jeonghan pressed his face into the pillow. “Violently. Murder.”

“He’ll enjoy it too much.” Joshua replied, an arm over his eyes as he continued to wake up.

“I hate that you’re right.”

Reluctantly you sat up, brushing some hair out of your face and flattening the rest down. You contemplated whether you’d change but looked down at your (Jeonghan’s) flannel pajama pants and t-shirt (Joshua’s) and only decided on throwing a sweatshirt over it. Both of your boyfriends followed out with Joshua dragging blankets off the bed and trudging out to the living room, stealing the loveseat for the three of you. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan were huddled together on the couch, bleary eyed but awake enough to be coherent. You sat half on each of your significant other’s laps, both cuddling into your sides.

“Mouse,” Chan pouted. “Can you make hot chocolate?”

Giving a pat to both Joshua’s and Jeonghan’s heads, you gleefully stood despite their whines and set off to the kitchen on a mission. You set up quickly to make everyone a cup of something, keeping in mind who liked theirs extra sweet or didn’t want it at all. Chan did end up helping you pass out the wide assortment of mugs, even helping toss some mini-marshmallows into them. Members were still emerging from their rooms but accepted the sweet drinks to warm their bones before the massive stack of gifts were open.

“Merry Christmas!” Mingyu skipped over, a devious smile on his face, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

He pulled you close to his side, opening a different cabinet beside the mugs. “Would you look at that! Mistletoe!”

Not giving you a moment to react, Mingyu pressed a big, wet smooch to your cheek. You squealed when he didn’t let up, laughing when Seokmin appeared at your other side, doing the same.

“Ridiculous!” Swatting both away, they simply grinned.

“Two Mistletoe kisses for Mouse!”

“Take your drinks and stop being nasty.”

You forced mugs (carefully) into their hands, but you didn’t stop smiling at their antics. Chan took the two for Jeonghan and Joshua while you walked over to the half awake, pouty leader, handing him a mug. He thanked you with a lazy side hug and a grumble, plopping down on the couch. You joined your boyfriends with your drink, humming at their warmth and the mug in hand.

“Alright, teach me a very SVT Christmas.” You motioned aimlessly at the tree and gifts.

“Typically…” Minghao yawned, taking a sip of the tea you made him instead of hot chocolate. “It’s a free-for-all thing but since it's your first major holiday with us, I think we are going easy.”

“Mouse should open all her gifts first!” Seungkwan smiled wide, resting his head on Vernon’s shoulder.

“Mmm, if we do that, you all need to open your presents from me then you can have your wild free for all.”

“Deal!” Sooyoung beamed.

“He is the worst of all,” Joshua complained, groaning. “Last year he fucking bit me.”

“Huh?” You looked at Soonyoung in disbelief but he didn’t deny it. “No biting for fuck sake!”

Soonyoung almost looked…disappointed. Weirdo.

“Okay!” Jun interrupted, clapping his hands together. “Mouse’s presents.”

He grabbed each of your gifts with called-out help from the others saying which were for you, an almost scary sized cluster of boxes. Jihoon laughed at your shocked expression, pointing like a child.

“The fuck, guys…” You said, slipping onto the floor in front of the pile, taking in the plethora of boxes.

“Open them~” Jeonghan encouraged and with smiles all facing you, you reached for a gift.

You tore off the (slightly) janky wrapped paper after finding the name, the first from Wonwoo. It wasn’t heavy as you opened the inconspicuous brown cardboard box, snorting as you pulled out the fancy digital camera and the accessory box.

“Once everything…settles down, maybe we could go out and take pictures together.” The low, tired rumble of his voice had you nodding in agreement, having seen his camera before.

You set your eyes on the smallest of the stack, a smile square box with a bow holding it together. There wasn’t a giver name, but you were able to see the Cartie etched across the top.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, seeing the gold, diamond bracelet staring back at you. It was thin, dainty, but the metaphorical weight was a lot. You’ve seen them before, expensive, and a dream if you were a millionaire.

You gazed around the room and the moment your eyes met with Seungcheol’s, you knew. There was a subtle shake to his head, almost asking not to point it out as you slid it around your wrist.

“Damn, okay, I’m glad I didn’t go with that.” Mingyu snickered as you moved along to a medium sized, rectangular box.

“I’m terrified of this big square box.” You gave it a light kick and Jun’s shoulder shook with silent laughter.

Minghao panicked when you were a little harsh in peeling off the wrapping paper. “It’s fragile-”

You instantly were gentler, hearing a deep breath leave him. Pulling off the top, you squeaked. It was a gorgeous tea set in a very pale blue-green, mint colored glaze and a seemingly hand painted cherry blossom pattern. Another squeak left you when you found the matching designed cups. Mingaho let out a giggle and you found pouches of hand labeled tea bags of ones he had made for you previously.

“I’m gonna drink the fuck out of these, Hao.”

“Good, I know where to get more.”

The boxes were getting bigger, minus a singular smaller one. You saw a neatly wrapped present with the youngest three’s initials scrapped across it. You dragged it over, noticing the three perk up as you tore off the ribbon and popped off the top.

You bulked at the three, crisply packaged designer bags in three different styles. You really tell who picked out which one based on the varying colors and style. Seungkwan definitely got you the lavender purse with a regular hand strap and a detachable shoulder strap. Vernon’s was a simple black shoulder bag with silver accents. Chan’s was a chrome silver with matching metal chain hand strap to hold it.

“Between this and the clothes in my closet, I’m getting the feeling you don’t like my style.” You snarked, looking over each bag lovingly.

“It could use some help.” Seungkwan teased back and you scoffed, flipping him off.

“Jackass.” You placed the box aside and picked up a sparkly wrapped small gift. “I hope you all know that I know some of you can’t wrap gifts.”

“Team effort.”

“I feel like a kid on Christmas morning with all the aunties and uncles here to spoil their only niece.” You got the paper off, hating the glitter that now stuck to your hands and clothes, but coming face to face with a pair of noise canceling headphones. “I need these with how loud you guys can get.”

“See, I told you!” Seokmin hit Mingyu’s arm, cackling. “Twenty bucks, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it later…”

You moved onto the next gift, turning it about to see Santa Jun scrawled across the side. It was the second largest box in the pile left and you were laughing when you saw the contents. The squished, vacuum sealed face of Gengar staring back at you.

“A giant plushie!?”

“Bean bag chair!” Jun vibrated in his seat, hands shaking happily. “It’s huge, like five feet by five feet.”

You stared at him blankly, slow blinking. “I will never leave it. It’s my new home.”

He grinned, nose scrunching up in a snicker. “Good, that was the plan.”

“Okay, biggest one.” You stood to open it and Mingyu was bustling with excitement.

It was a large entertainment speaker system similar to the ones at the house with a note saying ‘ Movie Night?’.

“Yeah, I think that can be arranged. Another big movie night.”

There was a cheer from some as you reached for a bulky square-ish box. It was heavy and you heard something shift inside. There was a messily drawn tiger and cat face that made you chuckle. There was a lovely record player inside with a very thick stack of vinyls of multiple artists you knew or some you haven’t heard of. The one that stuck out to you at the very bottom of the stack, however, had you on the floor laughing.

“DJ-” You wheezed, “DJ Leaf Blower’s Greatest Hits-”

“Read the number one song.” Jihoon called out.

Flipping the vinyl over, you screamed and laughed harder. “ Ram Ranch Remix?! ” Gasping for air, you held your sides. “I’m gonna pee.”

“ Barbie Girl 4.0?” Minghao raised a brow, reading it once you handed it over.

“Don’t worry about it.” Vernon snorted, a wide grin on his face.

“Come on, one more before ours.” Mingyu hummed, shimmying in place.

Collecting yourself enough to catch your breath and wiping your face, you pulled the last gift close, a black and gold rectangular box. J&J was written on the card and you quickly opened it.

There was an assortment of items inside that you sorted through. Perfumes, clothes, shoes, and so much more. You smelled each new perfume, happy that were similar to your much cheaper ones. The clothes and shoes were matching and you found a note insinuating they were for a night out with them. There was even a new clutch and jewelry to go with said outfits.

“You know, I can’t hug all of you at once-”

“Wrong!” Mingyu yelled while Seokmin cheered, diving at you and talking you to the floor.

A few more joined, mainly Seungkwan, Chan, Jun, and Soonyoung, leaving you squished against the tallest and your best friend. You struggled, clawing at the carpet to try and flee, but you gave up as they started to get up and off of you.

An exasperated huff left you, tired and unable to fight back. “I can’t believe you heathens.”

You stood, ignoring their beaming smiles and chuckles in order to retrieve and hand out each of their gifts. Some were large while others were small, handing them out to some grabby handed adults. Jun helped you move all your things aside as they started one by one opening their gifts starting with Chan.

You had found a humongous otter plushie on sale, knowing he looked like the animal, and a new leather jacket. He laughed loudly as he unpacked the stuffed animal, keeping it tuck under his arm as he took the jacket out. Chan thanked you as Vernon started to open his two packages of similar size tied together with a ribbon, one thin and the other relatively thick box. You had many text conversations with Seungkwan to find something, deciding on a new DJ turntable and a rare, signed David Bowie poster that you got help from Changbin to find. He let out a surprised sound, eyes wide and a grin in disbelief.

Seungkwan opened his gift next, a nice, reliable shoulder bag he didn’t have. Totally didn’t snoop in his room to find out, and a new pair of running shoes since his current ones were falling apart. Mingyu tore into his gift the moment a thank you left the younger man’s mouth, meeting the cheesy Kiss The Chef apron, resting on top of a custom tailored dark green suit. Siyeon had given you a list of all the colors the giant looked good in and you picked the color you hadn’t seen him in a lot. He was ready to strip, standing up to throw the jacket over his black sleep t-shirt, rambling at how much he liked it.

Seokmin opened the box in his lap, gasping dramatically as he lifted the papers in the air.

“Divorce papers?! How could you?” He waved them around before tossing the faked papers on the floor. “I thought you and I were soulmates!”

“I’m sorry,” You placed a hand to your chest, sighing. “But I have found another- two others.”

He fake cried as he rifled through the box more, pulling out the bottles of cologne you found similar to his common ones. He thanked you with a playful kiss to the cheek.

Minghao was next, giggling at the gift you got him. Just as he had given you, a custom tea set rested in the box with little cute, painted frogs on it. Each of the four cups had cartoon frogs with different expressions on them, and it came with a handcrafted frog tea pet. You went on to explain that Jun told you about his love for animated frogs and had a great idea. He thanked you and curled in on himself to take the pottery in.

Jihoon’s gift was harder to find, but the moment you did, you bought it without looking at the price tag (you did later and you died a little inside). It was a limited edition, dark red Ibenez guitar. His eyes lit up as he lifted it from the case, an excited, random sound leaving him as he gazed upon it. He mumbled a thank you a moment before Soonyoung unwrapped his present, laughing loudly at the three piece tiger print pants, shirt, and suit jacket set you bought. He, without a single care, kicked off his pajama bottoms and tugged the new pants on. You made a sound of complaint at his stripping but glad that he enjoyed it.

Wonwoo’s presents were bundled in one, three (four technically) items to add to his computer setup. You were originally going to get him a new graphics card but you walked in on him a few weeks ago taking his tower apart to install…a new graphics card. In the end, you settled on a large, wireless charging mouse pad, a new mouse with a lot of side buttons, and a clicky-clacky keyboard. You matched the brands to ones you knew he had in his current set up, but got a second keycap set if he wanted to change the style out.

Jun’s present was kind of similar to what he got you, funny enough. He got you a huge ass Gengar bean bag…you got him a four foot long Mareep Pokemon plushie. He wheezed in excitement, ripping the plastic off to hold it comfortably to his chest, making a comment that he would cuddle it forever.

Joshua’s and Jeonghan’s presents were quite large, however you added a small gift to match something you had made. Based on their taste, you got Jeonghan a chain bracelet while Joshua got a necklace of similar design. You got yourself a necklace with a mix between both styles to match, but you’d tell them later.

Along with the jewelry, you got Jeonghan a huge lego set to work on during the holiday. He expressed wanting to build one again and not knowing what to do with his time when you went to work during the week with Seokmin. For Joshua…you got a life sized model of Ichigo’s first sword from Bleach, one of his favorite anime. Both looked thankful but overjoyed admiring their gift.

Last but certainly not least, Seungcheol held the box in hand, larger than his palm but still small. You, with the encouragement from Jeonghan, snuck into his room to find a decent gift idea for the leader. He had a large collection of watches of varying brands, styles, and types, you took as much time as you could to find something online before rushing out.

Seungcheol’s gummy smile could be seen as he popped the lid open, removing the rose gold Rolex watch. He looked it over with quiet enjoyment, hastily sliding it around his wrist, surprised it fit well since links usually needed to be table off. You…won’t tell him you took one of his and returned it to its original place with the help from Chan.

You asked everyone if they liked their gifts and the chorus of affirmation and thank yous followed. Soonyoung got up, still sporting the tiger pants, and quickly started to pass out presents. You moved out of the way, dodging a box tossed Jeonghan’s way. Sitting with your back to the foot of the love seat, you watched as chaos ensued.

Wrapping paper, bags, and box tops littered the living room. Excited screams and loud conversation filled the space as more presents were thrown. You wanted to help in some way, taking on the duty of collecting the trash, making a neat pile for easy clean up once everything was done.

It was outrageous but also so heartwarming to see the happiness shared. While Jihoon wasn’t physically affectionate, he let Mingyu give him a tight hug and Jun to ruffle his hair. Seokmin practically jumped into Seungcheol’s lap when he opened the present from the leader. Jeonghan and Joshua nudged shoulders at their own exchange. You hugged your knees, continued to watch them, your… family, living in the simple pleasures of a normal life moment.

When gifts were finished, Mingyu and Minghao took charge in fully cleaning up, which became a group effort. You snuck into the kitchen to start on the even larger breakfast, finding Joshua at your hip not long after. Between breakfast and dinner later, you didn’t mind the thought of spending the whole day in the kitchen. You even had something…special up your sleeve for dinner.

“Why is there mistletoe down here?!” Joshua asked, opening a bottom cabinet. You sprinted around the kitchen, sliding on your socks to plant a kiss to his cheek.

“Joshua one!” You sprung up, calling out to Mingyu who whooped loudly.

Joshua rolled his eyes but stole a kiss from you when he stood before letting you get back to cooking. With help from Seokmin and Chan, breakfast was a mix of food from pancakes to hashbrowns. Despite the time, everything ended up being more brunch items, but everyone looked satisfied with the spread of sweet and savory.

Some gifts were moved from the living room to make space for the full bellied bodies and movie watching. Jihoon sat with the guitar you got him, tuning it with practiced precision. Seungkwan was sitting on the couch with Jeonghan, snickering over the gifts they got each other; a nice set of jackets for the younger man and two sets of imported wine for your boyfriend. Everything was calm and domestic.

You could hear an annoyed shout from Minghao as Soonyoung and Jun pecked him on the cheek when mistletoe was found in the linen closet. They both shouted the count then ran from the assassin. You, on the other hand, started prepping items for dinner, chopping many vegetables, positioning out so much chicken, and making some (a lot ) of dough. Their background noise was comforting, hearing them laugh and chatter. After being on your own for a while, this was a change you knew you needed.

“Mouse, come join us.” Jeonghan called, peering over the back of the couch, pouting.

“I’m almost done here.” You hummed over your shoulder, placing the prepped items in different containers.

“Mouse-” He whined and you shot him a playful glare, moving to wash your hands.

He was grinning at you with a gaze full of love and infatuation as he watched you move about. You shook your head and moved over to him once you were finished. Seungkwan ran off somewhere else, leaving a space next to Jeonghan that you were going to fill, but he pulled you into his lap, kissing your cheek a few times.

“Are you having a good Christmas?” He whispered, watching as you looked around the room.

You took in a deep breath, smiling with a nod as your eyes settled back on him, taking in his features. “I am.”

Once more, you looked around, seeing the holiday joy, bright vibes, and the love between everyone.

“I’m glad that I ended up tangled with you guys, Hannie.”

Dinner was a much bigger affair than you had previously thought. You were kinda warned that you needed to dress up a little, but you laughed, seeing some of them in some of their best outfits, recognizing some from the gala. You did throw on a dress Joshua got when you moved into your new home, long and classy but not long enough you needed shoes. Soonyoung had the tiger suit jacket that you got him and Mingyu wore the lovely dark green suit with lots of ostentatious jewelry. The entire scene was comical the more you looked them over head to toe.

The only explanation you were given as to why this dinner needed nice outfits was that someone had made a joke once that everyone should dress up extra nice just to have a home cooked meal and hang out. Some took it to the extreme with Seokmin and Chan walking out in brightly colored outfits and horribly clashing patterns, making everyone die laughing. They looked like eyesores. Joshua decided to go similar to Mingyu, hands and neck littered with lots of over the top jewelry.

You were happy the dress you brought wasn’t bothersome to keep cooking, quickly tossing on an apron to assemble the individual chicken pot pies and getting them in the oven. Minghao, Jun, and Seokmin were finishing up their own dishes that wouldn’t clash too much with what you were making.

Pulling open the cabinet with the serving dishes you opened earlier in the day, you gasped, cursing under your breath. You tried to close the cabinet quickly but Minghao’s hand stopped you. He giggled but placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, only for Seokmin to dive in and kiss your other one.

“Mouse two!”

You grumbled and turned to find Mingyu’s playful gaze. “How did you manage to change the spot?!”

“Dumb question, I changed more and hid more so everyone be prepared.” He grinned. “So far, Mouse has four, Hao has two, and Joshua has one.”

“How the fuck…” You whispered, huffing as you went back to cooking, exasperated, “Someone set the table!”

Jihoon, Vernon, and Wonwoo worked on setting the table, happy to help since they were…pretty useless when cooking. Working with Jun, you got everyone’s ramekin out of the oven and to the table. You gave a warning that it was scolding hot so on one should touch them right away. Hao and Seokmin got the rest of the dishes plated and to the table and soon you were sitting down to eat with everyone.

Seungcheol took a peek at the dish before him then to you, raising a brow since he knew exactly what it was. You only gave him a wink as everyone started to grab more food and dug into the meal. Seeing the satisfaction on everyone’s face was enough to get you all giddy and a fuzzy feeling settled in your chest. Your grandmother would be over the moon to see more people enjoying her recipes. You knew you were happy for her.

“Can we do a big family picture after?” Seungkwan looked down the table, addressing everyone. “I think we all look amazing enough.”

“Ostentatious, you mean?”

“Oh yeah. I want this framed for my memories. Plus we had stupid matching pajamas last year thanks to Jeonghan. And we have Mouse with us.”

“I want a picture of all of us.” You hummed, chiming in as you smiled to yourself. “My first Christmas with all of you.”

“We can take it by the Christmas tree!” Soonyoung was excited, hummed with joy.

“That would be great.”

Those who didn’t cook, cleaned, leaving Minghao, Jun, Seokmin, and you to relax. Seungcheol opened the fridge, yelling out at Minghao as Chan kissed his cheek dramatically. You shouted out his couch, laughing as the leader wiped his face. With time, you moved any presents laying around away from the tree to make room for everyone. Seokmin scurried off to get his camera and tripod to take the picture.

Everyone piled in, tallest of course in the back and you secured a place standing in front of Joshua with Jeonghan and Seungcheol on either side of him. Seokmin called out that he was setting a timer, wanting everyone to post while he ran to his spot. It took three tries and two poses later for the group of you to be satisfied with the effort. You snickered, asking to have them printed and framed to keep with you at home.

“I’m getting out of my suit and getting back into my pajamas.” Jeonghan complained, already almost out of the living room. “Are we watching bad Christmas movies still?”

“Oh yeah.” Vernon followed, heading towards his own room.

“Bring your pillows and blankets I guess.” Wonwoo hummed out a chuckle.

You stayed behind to finish and clean up, watching everyone go to their rooms. Joshua joined you despite his gaudy jewelry and a look that he definitely wanted to change.

“Shua, you can go change, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, no, I want to help.” He stepped close, taking the rings off his hands and pocketed them. “Plus, I get to have a moment alone, in peace, with you.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him flush against your body. His hands were on your waist, gently swaying with you to an unheard tune as he lovely smiled down at you.

“I’m happy you got to spend the holiday with us, and that you are going to spend new years with us, Mouse. Having you here with all of us…God, the guys love you, I love you-” He stopped with his mouth agape, sputtering. “Wait fuck, I didn’t mean to-”

Gently you pulled him down for a kiss, sweet and slow, hoping it began to express the feelings bubbling in your chest. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when he returned with fervor, feeling him smile against your lips. One of his hands came up to gingerly hold your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. He pulled away first, only to chase back to give you a singular small peck to your lips before he bashfully grinned down at you.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Joshua whispered, as if the statement was a secret between the two of you, but you cleared your throat, taking his face into both hands.

“Joshua Hong, I love you too.”

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lyracarvahall · 1 month ago

Text

HeartBeat Sync PART 1

Soulmates Explained

In this world, there is a chance that you are destined to have a soulmate, or multiple soulmates in rare cases. These bonds are realized by tattoos unique to the bonded pair which in the light had a reflection like oil-slicked water. The tattoos were more of random symbols and patterns that were never duplicated. When the tattoos are first acquired, a sensation coincides with them. Common examples include a random taste or seeing a random flash of light. Some way the senses notify you that your lives are forever changed.

However, there are many who do not have soulmate bonds, or maybe they just simply do not find them. This was the case for Y/N. In her youth she had been so sure that her soulmates had to be out there. After years of hopeful dreams, however, doubt began to creep in. As she now entered her third decade of life, she knew she belonged to those who had to make the dream for themselves.

This is what had made her want to pursue music. It was her soul’s way of crying out what her words could not express. This is where our story begins….

Chapter One: Exposed

The beats thrummed through her headphones, having her subconsciously swaying to her created beats. Music had become her soulmate when life had failed to provide her one. At her age, Y/N just accepted that wasn’t in the cards. Romantic dreams of her youth had turned into angst-powered fuel for the songs she made. After recording a few of the songs and uploading them to the internet, she had drawn a relative amount of attention. Her music’s heavy beats and heartfelt lyrics mixed with obscure instrumentals were not to everyone’s taste however. She had developed a niche following including, unknown to her, a few from overseas.

Y/N chose to use an alias with her uploads as her family had told her many a time she was too old to pursue such things and that she should just settle down and start a family. Her passion for passion and for life showed in every creation and it was her one area of pride, even if very few knew about it. Those few who did included her friend Lexi, who’s feet currently rested on Y/N’s coffee table as she flipped through her social media feeds on her phone.

Y/N just smiled contentedly at her friend’s antics as she stepped up to her microphone and began to sing powerfully into it. Lyrics about longing strung over dance beats. Checking on Lexi again, she saw her friend’s phone camera aimed at her face.

“Lexi, cut the shit! You know I don’t like my sessions recorded.”

Lexi leaned forward and twirled her chocolate hair in one hand while balancing her phone in the other hand. “Well….then good thing this is a live stream instead then, hmm?”

“WHAT?!” Y/N immediately yanked the beanie off her head and threw it with laser precision, knocking the phone out of her best friend’s hand. Dashing over and narrowly beating Lexi to recover the phone, she hit the button to end the live stream.

“What the hell is wrong with you Lexi?! Literally ONE RULE! Keep me anonymous! How long were you recording? How many were watching? I need to brace for impact for the amount of damage you just caused!”

“I know I know! I’m sorry! I just think you need to get out there with your music. You are so talented and you deserve to be performing other places besides your home office, Y/N!”

“Thank you and I love you but I am still mad at you. How….many….Lexi?”

Lexi began to nervously twiddle her fingers together, looked up at Y/N through her eyelashes. “About 3,000?”

“Three thousand people?! Oh my god! It’s over! It’s all over….” Y/N sank to the floor dramatically, slowly sliding down the wall and placing her head in her hands. “What have you done?” Her voice sounded small and pitiful but she didn’t care. Her dreams were ruined. There was no way she continue now that they tied a face to her work. She was a 30 year old curvy girl who currently looked like a bum in sweatpants and a giant anime shirt.

Her family had always overlooked her and never taken her seriously. Her dream “wasn’t a real job” and “arts were a hobby and not a career”. Anytime she explained about it being her outlet and why she needed to release this emotion, they told her soulmates are obviously not meant for her and she needs to get over it. Her sister Riley had been particularly cruel “I mean obviously no one is destined for you. Look at you!” Over time she had gotten over her insecurities. Distance from her family had helped, but occasionally all those emotions came rushing back to her. This was one of those times.

Lexi noticed the panic in Y/N’s eyes and immediately crawled to her side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry. I mean maybe this isn’t a bad thing, you know?”

Y/N simply scoffed at that.

“Seriously, bestie, this could be a huge opportunity for you! I imagine agents will start messaging ASAP. THINK about it!” With almost comedic timing, Lexi’s phone vibrated from where it lay across the room. Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Lexi smirked and quickly ran to grab her phone. Upon looking at the screen, however, she nearly dropped it again due to the shock with what she was reading.

“Y/N…It is a message from Eden.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Dum-dum ma-goo goo! Eden is the main producer for ATEEZ? Remember, those dudes you were drooling over their edits from Coachella?”

“Oh! Eden….Eden-ary production team! Shit shit….what did he say?”

“He invited you to ATEEZ’s next show. Says he has a proposition for you.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I admit this is my first ATEEZ fanfiction and it is more a fun writing exercise than anything else. I hope you enjoy it so far despite that. Sorry this is so short so far! <3

#poly ateez #soulmates #poly ateez soulmates #ateez x reader #ateez and y/n #ateez soulmates #ateez x curvy reader #ateez x older reader

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sserpente · 2 years ago

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A/N: Request from @vampirexsoldier and based on an idea I got watching the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 3412 Warnings: vampire!Reader, blood, feeding, burns/fire

“That’s a terrible idea! What if she finds out?” Peter Quill bellowed with utter outrage in his voice.

Gamora’s proposal wasn’t entirely bad. The question as to How do you keep a dangerous vampire—you—who could lash out and kill everyone in seconds in check? had hung in the air unanswered until Gamora chuckled and spoke up. “You make her fall in love, how else?”

And because it was rather unlikely anyone was up for the task or even emotionally available for that matter, everyone’s eyes promptly travelled over to Mantis. She shrugged with her eyes widened.

“Okay, even if that works… who do you want to make her fall in love with? I don’t volunteer, I don’t wanna end up as Dracula’s supper!”

“Who’s Dracula?” Drax asked. Quill rolled his eyes.

Surprisingly though, it was Thor who spoke up next, a sly grin playing on his lips. “My brother.”

“Your brother is Dracula?”

“What? No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Loki? You wanna make her fall in love with the guy who almost took over Earth a few years ago? That’s not a recipe for chaos, that’s a recipe for disaster,” Quill said.

“Loki’s changed since then, Quill. And I think… I think having someone infatuated with him will do him good. Besides, I think she is his type for him to help keep up the act. She’s quite… mean.”

Gamora chuckled once more. “He won’t like that if he finds out though.”

“Are you serious? You’re seriously gonna do this?” Quill threw his hands.

“I am Groot!”

Thor’s eyes widened. “He’s what?”

“Right behind you, you oaf.” Loki’s voice slid through the air like one of his daggers and instantly, the room fell silent. Even Nebula who had elected not to partake in the conversation at all looked up to see what would happen next.

“Loki!” Thor called out innocently, turning on his heel to face him. Everyone in the room could tell that Loki’s hand must have been itching to wipe that shit-eating grin from Thor’s face.

“You heard everything we said, didn’t you?” the God of Thunder asked then.

“That I did.” He was calm. Perhaps a little too calm, even.

“So… so what do you think?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind but that’s not new.”

“Loki, please. If… I mean, if she tries anything, we’ll know you’re strong enough to defend yourself.”

“She’s like a ticking time bomb and until we can rule out she doesn’t work with the enemy, we have to… keep her at bay,” Gamora added matter-of-factly.

“I agree with my sister. She’s dangerous.”

Loki let his gaze wander over the others. Then, he sighed. “Fine. But you…” He pointed at Mantis who flinched in response. “…You lift that magic as soon as we’re off this ship.”

Thor patted his brother on the shoulder when she started nodding frantically.

“You’re staring, Trickster.” Your feet were crossed and propped up on the dashboard, careful not to press any buttons and turn off autopilot or something silly like that. You’d been engrossed in a journal Quill and Nebula had picked up from that abandoned spaceship. “Still don’t trust me?”

Technically, they didn’t want you to read it. They didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame them really. While none of their suspicions about you were true, for you certainly wouldn’t work for someone who called himself Kang, they were right to fear you at least.

People had messed with you too much in the past. It had changed you—you, and your morals. Taking a life here and there and draining someone of their blood to guarantee your own survival might not have been noble but sometimes necessary. Besides, it was hilarious to watch people cower before you.

Looking up from the journal, you met Loki’s blue gaze observing you curiously, and tilted your head.

“Trust is for dogs.”

You’d rather not go into the story of how you ended up on the Guardians of the Galaxy’s spaceship in the first place but they were a means to an end. You needed to get far away from those disgusting demon poachers who had wanted to harvest your fangs as if you were a chicken laying eggs.

In return, you’d offered them your help with whatever it was they were planning on doing against Kang. Loki was by far the one who trusted you the least. It was funny, really. He was outrageously hot and his smile, albeit sarcastic and snarky most of the time, had—metaphorically speaking—pierced your heart with an arrow.

Falling in love sounded so ridiculous you hadn’t properly considered it yet. You were a vampire for heaven’s sake. You didn’t fall in love. If anything, you experienced physical attraction and that all too familiar throbbing right between your legs when you imagined your fangs buried in Loki’s neck all the while his cock was buried in you. You’d simply ignore how your heart jumped every time he entered the room.

Loki was walking on very thin ice today. He had recently, so you’d learned, been affiliated with some sort of time police. In some universes… multiverses (to be quite frank you still couldn’t exactly wrap your head around it all) it was Kang who was in charge of this so-called TVA, in others, they were doing everything they could to stop him.

It was a fight you were not about to get involved in any more than necessary but you had to admit, you more than just liked the formal attire he wore whenever he went back there with the help of these silly little time doors.

You’d been dancing around each other for weeks at this point and while the others steered clear of you as best as they could, Loki seemed to somehow always be around you, watching you—probably expecting that as soon as he turned his back on you, you’d go running to Kang or something like that. That, or you’d jump on his back and rip out his throat with your fangs because food was a rarity in the middle of space.

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of dogs—being a blood-sucking creature of the night and all.”

You had indeed not fed in a while and it was starting to give you quite vivid and filthy daydreams with Loki. The number of positions you had already imagined while you were feeding on him would have had Aphrodite herself blush.

“Right. We’ll be landing on a planet called Solaris tomorrow. Mobius suspects a Kang Variant has taken precedence there.”

“You almost say that like you think I care.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Your skills are amenable. We’ll need you in this fight.”

“Really? You expect me to focus on a fight when you’ll be wearing that? All I can think about is how much I want to grab you by that tie, pull you down to me and kiss you senseless until you beg me to… well.” You winked at him.

Loki swallowed thickly. Taken aback, perhaps, that you so brazenly flirted with him or simply wary of the fact it was a vampire of all beings who was attempting to seduce him.

He opened his mouth but then closed it again without having said anything, making you chuckle triumphantly. “You’re cute when you don’t know what to say. I bet that doesn’t happen a lot.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I mean it, Loki. You’re one attractive god. If I was religious, I’d worship you over Thor anytime.”

The smile he gave you in response didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t full of suspicion as usual but it wasn’t sarcastic or mischievous either. In fact… you figured it was actually a little sad. Why you practically admitting to him that you’d fall to your knees for him elicited that kind of emotion from him though, you weren’t quite sure.

Perhaps it was for the best. As long as you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your heart demanded more from Loki than just his blood and his body yourself, focusing on lust and physical desire was your best bet.

With one final smirk, you returned to reading the journal. Loki made it a point not to leave the room and to instead watch you like a hawk.

And here you were now, part of a fight you had wanted to stay away from. But a promise was a promise and you had honour—you’d keep your word, if anything because that meant you got to spend more time with Loki.

Solaris was lovely. Lovelier than Earth in many aspects but then again, food was scarce and most beings on his planet were, well… inedible. It left you a little hungrier than you would have liked given the current circumstances. Plus, Loki’s throat began to look more and more delicious with every passing second.

Loki’s mysterious TVA friend had been right though. Kang—or at least, one of his many Variants—was here. He was every last bit as annoying as your involuntary travel companions had made him out to be, obsessed with ruling the multiverse and time and bla bla bla. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he made you all listen to his grand plan, no doubt an entertaining stalling method for him before he’d strike. You understood him in that regard, at least. Playing with your prey before the killing blow was fun. As a vampire, you’d know.

“I knew you’d come,” Kang finally concluded after a while. “Of course, I wasn’t sure which Variants of you I’d encounter but I must admit the selection is quite disappointing.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you know what, you’re disappointing too,” Quill snapped with his gun pointed at Kang.

“I’m sure—because I’m not the Kang you were hoping to put an end to. You see, I’m always a step ahead. All of my Variants are, in fact. I volunteered to take care of you.”

“Can we kill him now?” Drax uttered. His comment earned him an eye roll from both Nebula and Gamora, followed by an angry “I am Groot”—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get this over with,” Rocket added.

“I agree. It might be best to do it quickly and painlessly.” Then, much to your surprise, Kang’s cold gaze fell on you.

“You’re the vampire. I’ve heard of you. It’s quite hilarious how you end up with the infamous God of Mischief in almost every universe.” What the actual fuck. “Or have you chosen Thor instead here?”

You blinked, too stunned to speak for a second. Thor wasn’t your type at all, you had made that pretty clear to Loki, and only recently too.

“You could truly be so much more though. Why would you want to waste away with these self-proclaimed gods? I can assure you that joining me would give your eternal life a much greater purpose.”

“Yeah, go ahead and provoke her,” Quill interrupted, “She’ll rip your throat out before you can say ‘time’!”

“I’d rather gauge my own eyes out,” you added, for once agreeing with the snarky Star Lord.

“Ah, I see… you like him. Well, it wouldn’t truly be a loss, you see. I can always get a new Loki for you. One that is more… compliant.”

“Go to hell.”

“Shame. I’ll have to kill you too then. Let me start with you, actually. It will make this unpleasant fight so much less messy.”

Time to bare your fangs. You could practically feel your eyes turning red, those pointy teeth forcing their way out of your gums to become a deadly weapon. You could feel Loki’s eyes on you when it happened. Curiosity mixed with fascination and vigilance made for a delicious combination. But there was no time to swoon over him now. Not when you began to realise what Kang—calm and irksomely collected—was doing.

Fiddling with the time manipulation device on his wrist, the noise it caused was deafening. It was like the sky above you was screaming in agony as the stars moved and the moon retreated. He was speeding up time, speeding up the night… and you were out in the open, with nowhere to retreat and escape from the deadly sunrays about to dig their hot claws into your flesh.

You shrieked when the first beam hit your skin. Panic set in quickly the very moment you smelled the smoke coming from your own body, the excruciating pain that felt like falling headfirst into an active volcano.

All hell broke loose around you with both the Guardians and the two Asgardian gods breaking into a fight all the while you frantically, desperately looked around for cover, somewhere to hide. You had approximately thirty more seconds before you’d burst up in flames like a phoenix and turn to ashes—only that unlike a phoenix, you wouldn’t be reborn.

“Loki, get her out of here!” you heard Thor roar.

There. A tent. You doubted the thin ceiling made entirely of fabric would protect you for long but it would have to do. So you ran, faster than any human eye would be able to witness, abandoning the group you had promised to help.

Instead, you assessed the damage done. Grunting in pain, you eyed the burns on every inch of exposed skin. Your body was fighting it, pumping both blood and adrenaline through your system determinedly to heal you—but with the lack of nutrition lately, you soon realised that you were too weak. And then, everything around went black and someone caught you in their arms.

When you came to, you tasted blood.

“Drink. Don’t stop.” Loki. Demanding and stern, pressing his wrist against your lips. Your eyes—undoubtedly red—flattered open, a surprised sound escaping your throat. Loki’s blood tasted heavenly. Warm and sweet and salty all at the same time, it felt like you were feasting on freshly harvested honey.

Your body welcomed the feeding with open arms, demanding more and more as it slowly regained the strength it needed to properly start the healing process of your skin. You could feel it tingle and itch with every drop of blood you swallowed until you were strong enough to wrap your hands around Loki’s lower arm to pull him even closer to your face.

He was behind you, you only realised then. Your head was resting on his lap as he was kneeling on the floor, his thighs supporting your head. Fuck, you didn’t want this moment to end, ever, and for some reason, this felt even more intimate than the idea of simply fucking him while your fangs were buried deep in his flesh.

He’s saving your life, a know-it-all voice in your head whispered. That’s why.

Eventually, Loki pulled his wrist away. You licked your lips, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings. You were back on the spaceship and the atmosphere was, quite frankly, grim.

“What happened?” you croaked, feeling several pairs of eyes on you. “Did somebody die?”

“Kang’s gone. Dead, we killed him,” Quill explained briefly and to the point.

He didn’t need to elaborate. It was a bittersweet victory—after all, there were hundreds of more dangerous Kang Variants out there and it seemed as if this one had merely served as a distraction from the real deal. What was it he had said? Somehow, you ended up with Loki in every universe? What did that even mean? In what way?

“Great. I’m going to take a shower then,” you announced. With as much grace and pride as you could muster after almost dying before all of their eyes, you climbed to your feet and strutted away, turning around the corner to get to one of the small bathroom units that came with surprisingly modern showers.

“Why did you do it?” you heard Thor ask Loki quietly once you were out of sight. You could have been mistaken but it almost seemed like there was a slight smirk in his voice. You lifted your head and froze, tuning in on the conversation. In any case, you’d like to know the answer to that question as well, after all, Loki had always been the one person on his damn spaceship trusting you the least. You surely were hoping you had now proved to him that you did not, in fact, work with Kang—in any universe for that matter.

“She was dying, Thor, and quite frankly, none of you even considered making a move and offering her blood.”

“That can’t be the only reason. Has it got something to do with what Mantis did to her? Did she… did she grow on you a little?”

“But…” Mantis started at that very moment. She was instantly cut off by Loki’s scoff.

“You keep forgetting the very people we both grew up with consider my true nature a monster too.”

“What, so you did it out of solidarity among monsters?” Quill intervened. You rolled your eyes. But what was that Thor had said? What Mantis had done to you? What did she do to you?

“But I…” Mantis started once more. Again, her words fell on deaf ears.

“You’d do well to watch your tongue, Star Lord.”

“Hey!” Mantis finally screeched. Silence. Now they were listening to her. “I haven’t made her fall in love with Loki yet! I couldn’t do it while she was awake and I’ve never seen her sleep before!”

Made her fall in love with Loki. Her words rang in your ear, floating around and repeating themselves over and over like a poltergeist in your head. Made her fall in love with Loki. They had been planning on doing that? Why? To keep you at bay, to keep you controlled? Love was a powerful instrument and that… that was foul. It was vile and outrageous, it was…

“What… what do you mean by you haven’t done it yet?” you heard Loki ask. So he’d been in on it as well.

You growled, turning on your heel to get rid of your leather trousers which were ruined now due to the sun scourging your skin.

“If you didn’t manipulate her emotions yet, then why is she constantly…”

Unfortunately, you were still a little too dizzy to do so. You took the shower curtain down with you as you slipped on the wet tiles, making them all aware of your presence again and unfortunately ending their conversation in the process.

But you were still able to figure out the rest of Loki’s unfinished sentence. He was wondering. Realising, even, perhaps, that all those things you had told him… that you found him attractive, cute, that you wanted to do such deliciously filthy things with him… you had meant them.

And perhaps—just perhaps—that was a little too much for him to bear. You could only imagine the confused looks on the others’ faces.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you finally heard him say. You didn’t even notice you were still cowering on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. When Loki entered the bathroom, he helped you up without a moment of hesitation, ignoring your weak protest as he did.

But then, the very second your eyes met, he knew. “You heard it.”

“Every damn word. You’re all insane if you thought that would work.”

“They thought it did. I thought it did.”

So that was why his expression was always so… so sad whenever you flirted with him. He must have thought you’d done it only because of Mantis and it had left him… disappointed? Realising this, it was hard to feel anger toward him. The others, yes. But not him. So instead, you said, “Thank you, Loki. You saved my life today. I’m in your debt—and trust me when I say that having a vampire in your debt is power on another level.” You just about managed to wink before another wave of dizziness made you stumble. The God of Mischief instantly wrapped his arms around you to steady you.

“Do you believe me now then?”

Loki smirked, returning the wink. “Yes, pet. I believe you now.”

“Then that’s your cue to kiss me, Trickster, ideally before I pass out again.”

You knew the moment his soft lips connected with yours that you would gladly pass out again if only that meant you’d feel that gorgeous mouth on you forever though.

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blocksgame · 1 year ago

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Purgatory, sleeping through the first night -

qsmp, /rp (feat. small selection of guys I had specific mental images about)

There’s a space left open next to Antoine but it won’t be filled for a while at least. Etoiles is too pent up and busy to sleep, he’s strategizing, he’s leaving to fuel the furnaces and pace. Like Etoiles, Fit has a tenuous relationship with sleep even on Quesadilla Island, and they’re not on Quesadilla Island. Fit is generally having a grand old time, but he will not be sleeping tonight, not in a lawless death arena surrounded by other people, that’s not happening. So both of them are propped up against the walls of their underground base, and they're texting Phil.

Phil is stressed. Phil is afraid. They kept saying shit about the eggs and some mystical bullshit and now there’s a death game and they’re pitted against each other and reality works differently here, Phil knows how to build something from wild nothing but not here and he hasn’t had to fucking do it in a long time, alright, and it’s scary, every time. Okay? It’s scary every time!

The first day’s work kept his mind busy, at least. But he sits in his little shelter with his friends piled around him, asleep, and thoughts like is this real start poking through. He asks how Etoiles is feeding everyone. Fit sends him some tips on crafting. Soon he is messaging them like a lifeline.

(Bad has not slept in weeks. He has no need to start now. Don’t worry, go to bed, he tells Tubbo. I'll keep watch. Bad keeps an eye on the minimap all night. But it’s pretty quiet. He considers trekking to the other bases for a little tomfoolery. But there’ll be plenty of time for that later.)

Roier is affectionate and loves to cuddle. Forever does too, but he's subdued. He’s still weak and he winces when things touch his partially-healed burns, or when the water’s too cold or the sharp bamboo leaves rake at his skin. Roier kills mobs for him and forces cooked fish into his hands, get you better faster, yeah? At night, Roier sends Cellbit pictures of them cuddled up, to show him they’re alright and to say wish you were here.

All of Phil’s people are scared. Most of them are not hardened survivalists the way Phil is. Curious detective Cellbit left the island bloodstained and with a strange gleam in his eyes, he’s been going through some shit, clearly, and now they’re here, so.

The only way he seems ready to relax is curled up close to Phil, like Phil is the only one he can feel safe around. Phil lets him keep his eyes on him, what else is he going to do? No skin off Phil's back. Cellbit texts with Roier for a while, then tries to sleep, ends up spending longer just staring at his communicator until he’s finally asleep or at least trying, again, again.

(We could retcon Mike as being there this whole time. In which case – maybe still out of it, maybe still feeling complicated about Fit, but that’s complicated rather than strictly negative. And he doesn’t know where Pac is and he’s not used to sleeping alone. Forever’s there and he’s family, so that’s a fine option. Or alternatively - Fit lets Mike lie beside him, as he and Etoiles mutter about strategies and smother laughter late into the night. Lit up by the screens of their communicators. Full circle again.)

(*I guess the vibes are more pinpointed on "like halfway through day 1" but it's minecraft time. whatever.)

#fic #qsmp #qsmpshipping #q!etoiles #q!fitmc #q!philza #q!forever #q!roier #q!cellbit #q!mikethelink #uh not sure how to tag this further but enjoy!#broader server polycule agenda

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scatterbrainedart · 1 year ago

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Izzy Hands’ inability to get a single fucking win in any given situation has captivated me. He’s so SAD. Brother literally cannot catch a break for the life (or death) of him. I wanna be silly about him, but he’s such a sad goddamn character that I just can’t. It just feels wrong. Like, who am I to kick at someone who is already down? And who pretty much has been down since ep 2 at BEST? Sigh.

I adore inner conflict in a character, I eat that shit UP. Outer conflict is nice too, but ohhh. Love me a good worst-enemy-is-oneself trope. Realistically, that’s more so Ed than Izzy, but still. I think it’s the contrast that does it, too.

Izzy is so terribly loyal it hurts. He just has so much bottled up for the entirety of the first season, so many things that he’s repressed that all feeds into his bitterness. That, within itself, is really interesting in a character. Let’s start with his feelings of Ed. He starts of the series smug, confident. He looks up to Ed, as pretty much everyone do. He’s the one person he doesn’t mind being “inferior” to. He’s built up this image of Blackbeard in his mind (which is precisely what Ed struggled with the most part. The way his reputation has outgrown him in a multitude of ways) which he puts on such a high pedestal. Working together with the mighty Blackbeard is an honour. He adores him, and he’s very much pleased with the role he’s serving beside him.

Then in comes Stede, who is everything Blackbeard and Izzy is not. Or at least so it seems, until his whole fucking world has been turned upside down and everything he treasured has been snatched right out of his grasp. Then, to make matters worse, when Stede finally is out of the picture and things should be able to go back the way they were, they don’t. For a while, he could at least hold onto the idea that there was hope, that time would work its magic and things would revert back to normalcy. But it only gets worse, and worse, until it’s undeniably so much worse than it was at the former worst moment.

And the barriers start to melt away. Izzy isn’t dumb, he’s always quite aware of the situation he finds himself in. Even he, the former worst enabler of Blackbeards pirate shenanigans, knows when it’s time to stop. And so he takes on a somewhat more caring role, because he cares. He cares more about Ed than most, and he knows him better than most. Even when he’s unpredictable, and when Izzy himself thinks of him as a stranger. He still knows him better than most of the crew, to the extent in which Ed has allowed it. There is a lot of Ed that Izzy doesn’t know, but I’d imagine he knows the way he functions off by heart. The way his brain works, the way he plans, his mannerisms, stuff like that. Stuff you learn by paying close attention to someone as you spend every day together for years. And stuff you need to learn to survive in an abusive relationship, or in a relationship with someone unstable, in order to keep the water’s calm.

Izzy cares. It comes naturally to him, at least it probably did once. And now, after all that has happened all of him that has been broken down, it shines through again. It seeps out of the cracks of his crushed self, where every part of him is on display in a way he can’t or doesn’t bother to control anymore.

Despite everything, he shows mercy to Ed.

Despite everything, he teaches Stede how to survive (when it wouldn’t have been unexpected of him to want him dead at this point, again).

Despite everything, he lies about the ruined portrait to protect Stede’s perception of Ed.

Despite everything, he tries to move on and move forth.

Despite everything, he helps. He tries to make amends about things that were or weren’t his fault.

And despite everything, despite how much he pushes it away and tries to act like he doesn’t, he wants nothing as much as he wants something gentle. Something kind. He has gotten so much harm done to him by people he trusts, people he trusted and people he doesn’t trust at all. Every touch he’s ever received, to our eyes, has been one with the means of harm.

In season one I enjoyed seeing his homophobic homosexual messiness unfold, and his misery was all good fun. This season? I just wanna lay him to be cozy in a bed somewhere and give him some soup and a kiss on the forehead and tell him it’s gonna be okay. What the hell man.

#my memory of past seasons is always. well #it’s famously not great #so sorry if I got things wrong #and this is generally just so all over the place #but I have Thoughts and I need to just get them out somewhere #I’m obsessed with him I really am #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #scatterbrained rambles

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angelforstyles · 5 months ago

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Lonely (together) Chapter Two

Harry’s POV

I wake up at 5 am, and I couldn’t go to sleep again so i go downstairs to the gym. I finished almost 7 o’clock. I feed my cat Grey (she’s black) then I ate breakfast and shower before I went to work. Usually I work from eight until five sometimes six pm. I took the elevator to my office, my assistant gave me my schedule and we got through the meetings and dinners i needed to go to this week. I can handle everything at my company, the difficult clients, the precautions, the pressure, but I still hate those fucking dinners with fake faces.

I went out of my office at 6. I have nothing to do for the rest of the night. So i pull my car to her apartment and get out of my car. Since she’s the only one who lives in the building, that means the lights belong to her apartment. I couldn’t know what room this is but there’s a shadow moving inside. I keep watching until the lights turn off.

I stayed a bit longer, then got to my place. I keep reading the files over and over again. I searched about all her family members, her parents have no relatives nor does she. I made for myself food and turned on the TV and watched a movie. It’s 11 pm so I went to bed I rarely go out especially since I gave up on dating. Everyone is so boring and only go out with me for my money. For now the only creatures I care about are Grey and Angel. I slept until 6 am and woke up and did it all over again.

I go near her work building around 3 pm act busy while I look around. She passed right away and went to the grocery store. I go right behind her and grab random things. “Hi, what a coincidence” am i fucking nervous? Shit. “Oh” she smiles softly. “Where do you live? We must live so close to each other” we actually do, it just 10 minutes walking. “Near” she mumbled and turned to face me I almost lost it. She wore long pants, the pants so tight on thighs, tempting to bite. The same white shoes and pink crop top so low, I looked at her breasts line and between them a red rose necklace. Fuck me. And an oversize unbuttoned white shirt. “Going to work?” There is no way I am serious. “Hmm” she sook her head no. She looked up at me with her wide blue eyes, they were a bit watery and so tired. She bit her lip and turned around and walked away. When we got out I called her “Lillian” she looked at me she’s an Angel. “can I have your number?”, she walked away without looking back. I wanna die.

Lillian’s POV

My heart throbs so hard while I’m walking (running) to my apartment, when I saw him I couldn’t breathe. I don’t know what’s getting into me. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Two days later I have a day off so there I am, setting in the coffee shop and reading. I don’t like to go outside but i needed to. Besides this place is not crowded at all. There’s barely three people.

I was so busy reading that I didn’t notice that someone was standing next to me until he said “Is this chair taken?” Green eyes looked down at me with so perfect curls around that beautiful face, so pink lips, and so cute nose. Old band shirt, tattooed arms, a cross necklace, and fingers full of rings, will be okay if I sketch his hands and lips? STOP! .

I shook my head no. He set. I feel my heart beating so fast in my chest. “Reading huh” he smile at me and god. He’s so gorgeous. “What are you reading?” I flip my book and show him. “Never Let Me Go, about what?” I can’t breathe, I can’t talk. “Um.. ahh- a.. just start it” “ you know I watched the movie, it was amazing i am sure you will like it” then why you asking me?.

movies? I hate movies. I watched a couple back then when the girls did movie night, and I never liked it. I hate watching TV, the only thing I watch is Barney and the last time I watched it when I moved to my apartment and was too scared so I rewatched. Comforts me.

“Will see” i mumble, “what’s your favourite movie?” He moved his chair closer to the table and put his cup on the table, black coffee, like mine. “I don’t have one”, “no way everybody has favourite movie” I smiled, i couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Okay what’s your favourite book?”, yes i can answer that. “There is a lot of, but now I think The Course of Love” looked at my lap “that’s a good book! I read it twice” he said and his smile got bigger. We sit for a couple minutes in silence. “What’s you do for work?”, “write short articles..you?” “Where can i read them?” He asked, where? No where. “Um.. they never been published” I said and my heart sank. “Why?” He looked at me expressionlessly. “I'm a beginner, and there are better writers than me who just want me for my ideas and they pay me well”. He said nothing. “You?” I said after a few seconds without looking up. “Me.. I work at a security company” wow he must feel safe all the time and— “let go out sometimes” he asked me to go on date with him or w— “you know as friends do?” Oh.. of course he doesn’t want to date me who wants? “Um sure” “give me your number” I put my number on his phone with trembling hands, please god don’t let him notice. He said See you soon and go out then I took a breath I didn't know I was holding it back.

A week passed and Harry still didn't text me, I was starting to think he didn't want to hang out with me (not that I really want to hang out with a stranger I didn't know anything about or that I'm waiting for him) but he asked for my number! It had to be something right?

It was Saturday and the girls wanted to go out for drinks, I had gotten home from work and hadn't slept so l was feeling a little dizzy. I made myself a sandwich and a fruit smoothie then i drank coffee because I looked like a zombie.

I took a shower and dried my hair but kept my curls then did my make up, deep sharp black cat eyeliner with warm soft eyeshadow, concealer and a light blush, it was going to be a bit hot and my cheeks will turn red so..

I put on some lip gloss I didn't want to wear lipstick because my eyes make up was too much.

I put on a black skirt that went up to the middle of my thighs, with a dark red silk top, I put on red high heels (I'll regret the pain tomorrow) and my red bag. I was wearing my usual necklace and small pink earrings and two rings.

llooked at myself in the mirror one last time. I won't drink but I definitely need to glow a little because my energy has been so low lately.

It was only 6pm but the girls wanted to get out early. I walked to the bar, it was about 15 minutes away. When I walked in it was very warm and loud even though it wasn't very crowded.

I spotted the girls and there were the four guys too. I slowly walked over to them until Joll saw me. "Oh my god you look amazing." She hugged me tightly, a faint smell of alcohol coming from her. The rest of the girls hugged me and then I went with Ami and her boyfriend to the bar to get them more drinks.

I ordered a Sprite with lemon. I'm not a big fan of soda but it made me feel a little better since I don't drink. I sit in the edge of the booth and there was a conversation going on around the table. After about half an hour the girls were almost drunk. I got up and went to the bathroom. I needed to be in quiet place for a moment.

I walked out of the bathroom and on my way out the hallway, a man grabbed my wrist. "You look beautiful" Panic rose inside me and I pulled my hand away and tried to walk but he blocked my way. "Please step away" "There's no chance I'm leaving this beauty" | tried to walk past him but he wouldn't move away until I felt tears about to fall. Only seconds later I heard Meiie's voice "Are you okay?" Her boyfriend behind her looked at me for a second then his hand flew to grab the man's neck

"Did you know how stupid you have to be to bother a woman?"

I moved away until I was behind Meiie then she whispered in my ear "Did he hurt you?" | shook my head no. Then we went to the table again. I tried to recover but my hands were still shaking and I felt the edge of a panic attack but I tried to distract myself.

A few minutes later my phone vibrated under my hand. I lifted it to see and then stopped breathing, distraction itself came into my hands.

Unknown number: Hi.

Unknown number: it's Harry.

Harry: How are you?.

Oh. my. god. My heart is beating so hard in my chest

Me: Hi Harry, I'm fine. How are you?

Harry: Good.

Harry: Are you up for dinner? It's been a busy week, and I'm only free for today.

Harry: If you're not free, that's fine we can find another time.

Oh god what should i say?

Me: I'm out with my friends but we're going out soon.

It was about 7 and the day didn't end yet, but i wanna go home too.

Harry: So you can have dinner with me?.

With me

Me: I think so

30 seconds ..

Harry: Do you want me to pick you up?.

Me: where is the place?

Harry: Location.

Me: It's close to me, i will walk, Thanks though <3

Harry: Good.

I said goodbye to the girls and then left, nervous and adrenaline pounding my body. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt like I was going to die. The panic of the man who had cornered me had gone away but my stomach pain was growing with tension. I looked too much good for dinner with someone who was like a "friend".

I walked for ten minutes until I reached a restaurant. It was a small but fancy restaurant in the corner. I walked in without looking around and headed straight to the bathroom. I closed the door and took a few deep breaths, I looked in the mirror and I was like— I didn't even know what to say about myself.

My skirt was really short, how did I get out of the house in it? I tried to lower it a little and pull my top down a little to cover my stomach, but either my thighs would come out a lot or my stomach or my breasts. For once I regretted not bringing a jacket. I adjusted my makeup a little and tried to reduce it, but the eyeliner was the problem. I didn't wipe it off because it was going to be a mess. I took a deep breath and left. I looked around and saw Harry's back in the corner to the right facing the door. Did he saw me when I walked into the restaurant?

I quietly walked to a table. "Hi" I said in a low voice. I wasn't sure if he heard me. He got up from his seat. "Hi, Lillian." He's wearing a black suit with half unbuttoned shirt, his tattoos almost visible, and the cross silver necklace on his chest, his hair a bit greasy but his curly sit on his shoulders perfectly. And his shiny rings tempt me to play with them, but i look at the table and sat next to him, not facing him. My back to the rest

of the restaurant. I don't know why, but I felt a bit comfortable with my slightly exposed skin now. One person staring at my skin was better than an entire restaurant. I need to pay more attention to what I wear next time.

"I didn't make you leave your friends behind, Right?" | wanted to get out of there anyway. "No" | smiled.

The server came to take our drinks orders. Harry ordered a red wine and looked at me, and I lowered my gaze to the table.

"Water, please," | said, holding out the napkins on the table.

The server walked away and Harry said, "Are you sure? They have great wine, or would you like champagne?" I shook my head. "Thanks," | mumbled. "Where did you and your friends go?"

"Um.. bar" I said quietly, "hm you don't look drunk" I looked at him "I don't drink" The server interrupted us with the drinks and menu.

"How's work?" he asked. "Good, you?" "Today was slow but I got a lot of stuff done so that counts as an accomplishment." | nodded.

"When are your days off?" | sipped my water. "Every Sunday." | said

"One day?" I nodded. "Did you know that's against the terms of any job?" "I signed off on a one-day. No compulsion." I felt the heat run through my entire body from his deep, calm voice, from the prices of the food, from my exposed skin to him, and from the fact that we were talking as if we had known each other for a long time, and also because I was with a person for dinner whom I had only met three times in passing on the street and once in a coffee shop.

There was a good chance he was dangerous, stop it

I didn't feel hungry after flipping through the menu at least three times. There was a caesar salad and pasta.

I had to choose one of the two dishes because it was very expensive and I couldn't afford it, the cost of one dish is the same as what l literally spend on the grocery store for a whole month.

"Are you done?" Harry asked and I nodded. He raised his hand to the server to came over. "What would you like?" Harry said softly. I pointed to the pasta on the menu without taking my eyes off it.

"Caesar salad, chicken salad, two medium steak, two mushroom soup, alfredo pasta, shrimp pasta and margherita" he said to the server.

My eyes were wide open, I couldn't believe it, the restaurant was so expensive. The waiter left and I said to Harry, "Are you sure? You ordered a lot" "You should try it, it's delicious, in fact one of the best." "But I can't afford it." I whispered to him, his eyes narrowed a little and his brows furrowed. "We'll see." He said dryly

We sat in silence for a few minutes, "Did you know that this restaurant has been around for over sixty years?" I looked up to meet his, smiling slightly. "Wow." I smiled to him.

"Did you graduate from college?" I nodded "This summer",

"What was your major?", "English Literature and Translation"

"Interesting. why did you choose it?", "I like reading." Silence again.

"What did you major in?"

"Business."

"How old are you?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Twenty one" My cheeks flushed and I hoped they didn't turn red. "You?" "Twenty seven"

What. the. hell!!!! He's old!

llooked at him for a few seconds, a smile on his face that I hoped would be etched in my memory. My stomach was filled with a strange feeling, and the weather so hot I might pass out.

Then the food arrived in a few seconds.

I came back to reality and realized how much food there was.

I hadn't reached out to eat yet because Harry kept putting some of everything on my plate and on his plate too. Until he was done and then he said, "You okay?" My cheeks burned again, a shiver ran down my toes and I felt heat all over my body, no one has ever put food out like that for me before.

Harry's POV

She was wearing a tight top I could see the edges of her bra.

Her thighs were so full and I feel my pants tingling. She was trembling a little as she played with her necklace and bit her lip from time to time. The food arrived and I put some of everything for her and for me.

We started eating but she was eating so slowly that for a moment I thought she didn't want to eat. But then I remembered when she mentioned it was expensive. "I have an idea" I said and she jumped "Hmm?" Her eyes a little watery

"Dinner is on me this time, next time we can share" she smiled

"please no, we can share, it's okay", "yes next time" I said harshly and her face was a little sad but then she nodded. I immediately regretted the way my words came out.

She started eating a little more and I couldn't help but smile

until my cheeks hurt. We ate in silence, commenting every few minutes about how good the food. She didn't eat much but she tasted everything.

"They have a really nice dessert let's try it"

"Thank you but i can't I'm really full" she said playing with a strand of her hair.

My cock twitched again. "Let me take you home" my voice so low.

She looked at me with sleepy eyes and her shoulders slightly lowered, making her breast line deeper, I looked at her and raised my eyebrows when she opened her mouth to speak

“ca- um.. yes please," she whispered.

I paid and we walked to my car. Her eyes looked up as I opened my car door for her. "Is this your car?" She asked slowly "Do you like it?" Her pupils dilated until half of the blue in her eyes was gone. She looked at me for a few seconds and then got in, her skirt rising even higher. My cock was getting hard, I tried to control myself but when I got to my seat, we were so close and quiet, I could hear her breathing and see her breasts rise as she breathed. Her thighs were pressed together and a lot of skin was showing.

The car started and I looked at her face, sweat were forming on the bridge of her nose and above her lips, her forehead was covered by her bangs but I could see some hairs damp from the sweat.

"Where is your house?" "Um, uh, I- close?" | laughed softly "Location?" She flipped open her phone and sent me the location, I looked at it even though I knew the way by heart from the many times I stood outside all night and morning watching her apartment.

"Do you want a specific song?" She shook her head no. I turned on the radio, the volume very low that I still can hear her slightly ragged breathing. Her apartment was about 17 minutes away. I drove very slowly, I didn't want us to arrive too fast.

The silence was so comfortable despite the tense air.

"Um, thanks for dinner, you really didn't have to pay" she said quietly, a tremor in her voice. We stopped at a red light and I looked at her, her cheeks flushed even with the red light on her I could still see her cheeks burning. "It's okay," we looked at each other for a moment.

"Can I ask you a question?" she whispered. "Anything." "I know nothing about cars, but I know this one costs a fortune. How?" I laughed. "I don't give free business advice. But l've worked hard since college. So it should make sense"

She pressed her thighs together again, her fingers trembling as she gripped he bag, her eyes on the window as the light turned green. A few minutes passed and then she spoke. She said quietly and slowly "I want to quit." We stopped at another red light "I've saved up enough money to last me ten months" she took a deep shaky breath "but I don't know if I'll find a job easily in that time. I don't know why I'm telling you, but I don't know what else to do, and you seem to know the right thing to do" she said in a low voice and her knuckles turned white. The light turned green.

"I think you should take unpaid vacation if your work allows it. If not, you could quit for five months at least and then look for a job." We stopped at the door of her building.

We sat in silence for a full minute, until she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to me, "Thank you, good night" she whispered quietly, not looking me in the eyes.

She got out of the car and walked to the door, her hips moving seductively, even though she was walking tiredly in her high heels. She put the code on the door and entered, closing it behind her.

I returned to the house and opened the door, Grey walked between my legs. I got down to pat her a little bit. "Hey, have you been alone all day? Hm?" I left her and went upstairs to my room, I went to take a shower, my cock was hard as a rock, and the guilt washing over me because it's hard for her, the water washing me until my hand tightened on the rock between my legs. An inhuman sound came out of me as I fucked my hand.

The image of her lips, legs, thighs. I shouldn't think of her this way, but she has been living freely in my mind for over a month, it's unfair, she should be mine. Release and pleasure wash me over until my breathing returns to normal. I finished taking a shower and put on underwear. I went downstairs to get water. It's 11pm so I went to sleep but she's still in my mind.

I stayed up until 2am. Throughout my career I didn't change a single thing about my routine. I woke up at 6am, worked out, showered, breakfast, went to work at 8am sharp. I worked 10 hours, slept at 11pm for 8 hours. In one month I broke all the rules of my day. I stayed up more than 24 hours, I missed half the work day. Not only that, I stayed up all night, leaving work early to see her walking to her apartment. I was really starting to lose my mind.

Please tell me what you think :3

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 1 year ago

Note

I just came back from watching Wonka with my mum and IMMEDIATELY ran to Tumblr to tell somebody, so sorry if these are spoilers, but there's a song in the movie called "Sweet Tooth" and they sing about bribing somebody with chocolate by compelling their sweet tooth, and there's a line that says "don't look at your waistline, it's fine, come on, who needs to see their toes?" and "if your wife's complaining, body shaming, it's amazing what a tailor can conceal" and I full lost my mind, and I've been thinking about Steve and Bucky, or Andy and Ransom, or Nat and Bucky and Steve, or any other combination of people accidentally fattening their significant other with chocolates and them developing a sweet tooth and they steadily crave all sweet things but chocolate at the top of that list.........

I still haven't seen Wonka, and don't I have plans to 😅😂, but... that is really fucking compelling 🥵 that just might be the thing that gets me to see it, lol.

I can't blame you for thinking about that, I mean, the song is literally begging for it 👀 And I know we talk a lot about Andy and Ransom here, but for me, with the specifics of "your wife," I'm thinking about Andy and Laurie...

(Here's the scene on YouTube 🫣)

Like - in a world where they don’t have a child and the events of Defending Jacob don’t happen, rather Andy is just another assistant district attorney - it makes sense that this would happen with Laurie and Andy.

Andy has an extremely high stress job and so he’s not thinking about his looks. Besides, he’s married, he has the woman of his dreams, he loves her to death, and he’s not thinking about impressing anyone. Really, he’s thinking mostly about how to relax when he finally gets home. Plus, he’s thinking about what he can do for Laurie that isn’t paying for shit with his job and being the typical “breadwinner.” He loves her. He would do anything for her and she deserves to know that with his every action. And… he’s thinking about the way she smiles so bright when he compliments what she’s made them for dinner. He’s thinking about how warm and content he feels, sinking into the sofa next to her, after he’s had juuuust enough of that delicious dinner to feel a little beyond sated. He’s thinking about the way she winks at him when they’re cuddling on the couch and she breaks a piece of chocolate off of the bar she’s munching on and he opens his mouth so she can feed it to him.

He’s not thinking that it doesn’t matter if he’s craving more of the sweet things that usually are more of Laurie’s pallet than his own (so what, he’s stressed, he’s allowed to have some sugar to make himself feel better) because he doesn’t even know.

Laurie is so beautiful and smart and distracting. She smoothly weaves in more compliments for him, she sneakily slides a few more items into his lunch box before he heads to work, a bag of gummies here, a bag of chips there, she slowly but steadily increases his portion sizes at dinner, and she keeps feeding him more junk food on the couch after dinner, bite-sized pieces that feel more like foreplay than eating.

Andy doesn’t know he’s got a starter belly going...

Andy doesn’t realize that it spirals to the point that when he buys Laurie a big, big box of expensive, rich chocolates for Valentine’s Day and they all end in his belly rather than Laurie’s. It’s hidden under her blinding grin and heady caresses. The way she touches him doesn’t change. So, how is Andy supposed to know he suddenly has a beer gut? Also, she keeps switching out his clothes - roomier slacks, longer belts, looser undershirts, and bigger dress shirts - as they steadily tighten around his growing frame. Further burying the evidence.

It started by wanting to show Laurie how much he loves and appreciates her, and it’s still for that, half of the things he ends up eating, he wouldn’t eat if it weren’t for Laurie feeding them to him or encouraging to have seconds thirds “if he wants to,” but it’s so much more than that now, too. Andy’s appetite just increases and increases. He’s hungry all the damn time. He’s stressed all the damn time at work, too! He’s stressed unless he’s across the dining room table or on the couch next to Laurie with something in his mouth.

That’s when he’s calm.

When he’s with her and he’s chewing, and she’s looking at him with fire in her eyes. That’s what he needs. He needs her touch, her eyes on him, and anything she wants to feed him. He needs. He’s so hungry for her. And it’s making him pile on the pounds. Completely unaware of it. So what if he can’t see his toes? Who can actually see their toes? So what if he hasn’t seen his dick in months? His wife can, she can more than see it. So what if he’s looking a little more filled out? He’s getting older. It’s not like his clothes are tight or his wife is complaining. He can’t be getting fat! It’s not possible.

🥴🥴🥴

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #andy barber #laurie barber #andy x laurie #chubby andy #fat andy

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mxlktxa · 2 years ago

Text

The Dressing Room

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

❥ pairing; ellie x giselle (original female character)

❥ summary; giselle always had a thing for ellie but refused to ever admit that to anyone. not even joel, if he were still around. giessle could always read people like a book, clear as day, however, those feelings giselle tried so hard to keep concealed were soon outed to ellie sooner rather than later.

❥ author note; i genuinely have no clue what im doing and am terrified of feed back but here we go 🙃

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

I witnessed from afar as Dina and Ellie argued. It was upsetting to see those two fight, they seemed like the perfect couple too. But… To be fair, Dina had been hiding that she was pregnant from us for a bit now. But that didn’t give Ellie a right to label her a burden, an obstacle.

I sighed, heading upstairs in the theatre, flashlight in hand, and in towards the back, finding a communication room. It was filled with plenty of marked up maps, notes and well more maps, honestly.

“Well, damn. Who the hell was in here before us? And how do we get the power back on?” I looked to the maps, trying to decipher if they were checkpoints for other groups or just places people wanted to search for supplies, seek some shelter even.

My thinking ceased as I could hear huffing and nearly silent footsteps coming towards the room. It was Ellie, I didn’t even need to think more or see her to comfirm it.

“You’re both in the wrong, you know. Just, my opinion.”

Ellie scoffed behind me, joining me at the table. I glanced over to her, searching her face for an expression. The intimidating, yet soft, girl beside me just shook her head, clenching her fists.

“I fucking know. I just wished she had said something earlier. I don’t need her risking her and… Her baby’s life.”

“Yes, true. But… It wasn’t necessary to call her a burden. We just need to keep her indoors and safe. And you also hid something from us.”

“Yeah, so fucking what, Giselle? Whoopty-doo, I breathe fucking spores. What about you? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing important and don’t get worked up with me. I didn’t piss you off.”

Ellie and I stared each other deep in the eyes. I couldn’t help but notice her gentle, caring eyes running from between both my eyes and to my lips. I chuckled at her, using my hand as a blindfold on her

“You’re so obvious, Ms. Williams.”

“Oh, shut the hell up. Ms. Anderson.”

A laugh left both our throats, almost harmonizing in a way. My palm left her face, admiring the smile she set up on those pretty lips of hers.

“What’s the ‘nothing important’ that you’re hiding?”

“Why must you uncover that secret? What if it hurts you? Or Dina? Or even if there isn’t an us, what if it hurts us?”

“But what if it creates an us?” Ellie seemed so vulnerable at this point. Like she was dying to put her hands all over me. In the back of my mind, I kept the fact that her and Dina were probably soon to be a thing. I couldn’t ruin something like that. Especially since the poor girl is pregnant and we don’t need her stressing.

“Ellie… Ellie, it’s nothing. Besides it seems Dina likes you,” I pushed myself away, leaving the room with my flashlight and opening a door nearby, finding that it was a dressing room. Like a child in a marvelous castle built of strictly sweets, I gasped and ran to the dressing rack, running my hands across the material.

“El! Look! Oh, my God, this is so fun! Dresses from the roaring twenties. Ugh, they’re so cute.”

“I think they’re really damn hideous, but go off.”

“Excuse me? Disgusting? You, Ellie ‘Little Shit’ Williams, have terrible taste.”

“Oh, yeah? Change my mind then. Sell me on the dress, Giselle ‘Terrible Taste In Men’ Anderson.”

My eyebrow raised, my brain immediately thinking to strip down and slip into the clothing to prove it was cute. But also just to fuck with Ellie a tad. So I placed my light on one of the desks, shrugging at her.

“Fine. I will,” with that I took my backpack off, tossing it to Ellie. She caught it with a little huff, closing the door to the dressing room, leaning on it to watch me.

First, I crossed my arms at my hips, lifting my shirt over my head, stopping just before I exposed my bra to her. Ellie shrugged, her way of telling me to proceed with the show. I tossed the article of clothing to the side and now unbuckling my pants.

“Do you have a color request?”

“No. Nothing specific, do what you want. Might wanna take off your shoes before your pants by the way.”

My eyes shot down to my canvas shoes, giggling before bending down to untie and kick the shoes off. Ellie gave a sarcastic thumbs up now gesturing I remove my pants. I rolled my eyes at the girl doing as she wished.

In my head, this all seemed so fake. Like a dream or something but Ellie was much more intimidating in my head. Always so goddamn serious. Plus, I was just about to have a heart attack not too long ago from all those infected chasing us down and seeing Ellie snort up millions of spores. Half of me hoped this wasn’t a dream but the other half did, I didn’t wanna disrespect Dina like this.

“And here I thought the rumors were true.”

Ellie snapped me from my thoughts, raising a brow in question to the rumor about me. There were plenty and I may have heard them all but why would Ellie say something like that now?

“Oh? And which of my many rumors are you referring to?”

“That you always go commando.

“What the fuck? Who the hell started that? I would never go commando, that’s icky.”

“Well, seeing as you’ve pissed off plently of men by simply rejecting them, I don’t know.”

“And why would you believe them?”

“It would be the only rumor I believed in. The others are so painfully obvious that they were told just because their ego got hurt.”

“Hm… Fair enough. Now help me choose a color of the dresses.”

Ellie’s face lit up so birghtly yet also seemed sinister. Her own bag hit the floor, her steps telling me that she was excited to even be close to me while in my undergarments. We both pulled out dresses, disagreeing on a few and setting some aside as a maybe.

“Hey, pink or white?”

In either hand was an eggshell white flapper dress, the sequins dangling and sparkling. Of course, in my imagination they sparkled but not so much in the real world. It came with a shawl and gloves that would reach far past my elbows. It was also shorter than the pink, for sure. The pink was too far of a dark shade and some gloves that went just barely under my elbows. The shawl with it didn’t even match. Gross. I hummed, closing a bit of distance between us and taking a minute to review the dresses a little more.

“Oh, this is hard. This pink isn’t my favorite and the gloves are too long. The white one though… The dress is shorter and everything is looking pretty good.

“So… White?”

“Yes, Ellie. White.”

The not-so-frightening woman let the pink dress drop to the ground, tugging at my hips to throw the shawl and gloves at me and unzip the dress. Rolling my eyes, I let the items drop by our feet.

“Somebody is a little too excited to dress me up.”

“Just shut the fuck up and come here. All you do is talk, talk, talk.”

“I’ll have you know, people enjoy my conversations.”

“I bet they do.”

“Jesse does. And Maria.”

“You forgot three people.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“The full list, from bottom to top is Jesse, Tommy, Maria, me, Joel. Meaning you forgot, Tommy, me and Joel,” Ellie spoke with a playful tone, allowing me to bring up Joel in this moment. I blew a raspberry at the carefree woman in front of me.

“Joel secretly hated me, I know it.”

“Wrong. He would come and complain to me when you were upset with him. Kept saying that he missed walking into the living room and seeing you sleeping on the couch when he went to make his coffee.”

“Really? He always fussed about me sleeping on the couch.”

“He had a guest room, dummy. That’s why.”

“Well… No, I thought it would be too much.”

“Yeah, yeah. Always refusing to ‘intrude’.”

I pinched Ellie’s nose before she kneeled down to let me step into the dress. I bent over to hold onto her shoulders, letting her pull the dress up. My arms slipped through the spaghetti straps nicely, Ellie picked the shawl from the ground and throwing it over me, allowing it to rest on my shoulders. She even took the opportunity to slip the gloves on to me, giggling like a fool.

“And that’s everything. Take a look,” she whispered, spinning me to the mirror, zipping up the dress quickly.

I squealed softly, rushing to the mirrors and creating various poses. Blowing kisses, acting surprised, pouting, all the fun stuff. In the back, Ellie was spotted, grinning at my little performance.

“Should I show Dina? Or is she asleep?”

“She’s knocked out. She was really upset so… Yeah. I wished you could show her, she would love it. Joel would too.”

“Right? I could see him now doing a mixture of both mocking me but also taking plenty of pictures and telling everyone about it.”

Ellie and I both ended up laughing for a bit, saying things that we both know Joel would say. I even got her to dance around with me even if she did complain about the lack of music. She even took pictures of me to place in Joel’s home after all this was done with.

We settled down after a few minutes, me back in a t-shirt and my underwear, sitting on the floor with Ellie beside me.

“We should figure out how to get the power back on. But I don’t even wanna get up right now,” Ellie was now leaning against me so she could hide her face.

“Well… We kinda need the power so I can try and get some information off those maps and see if anyones soeaking on the channels. Unless you wanna spend a few weeks here then go ahead and leave the power alone.”

Ellie sat up turning to face me. We held eye contact again, her eyes so obviously searching my face for something. I couldn’t help but stare at her slightly parted lips, rolling my eyes.

“God, damm it, Ellie.”

“What? What did I do?”

“I hate you,” with that, I threw myself at Ellie, our lips locking and her hands cupping my face while mine were glued to her hips. Ellie was gentle, yet somehow still rough but I could care less.

“Is this the ‘nothing important’ you were hiding?”

“Obvi, dickhead.”

“Oh? I didn’t know Giselle Anderson was one to swear.”

“Shut up, you’re so annoying.”

Ellie ran her hands down to my waist with a chuckle, slowly pushing me down to lie on the floor and returning her mouth to mine. My fingers slithered through her hair, tugging every now and again undoing her mini bun so all her hair was down.

One of her legs ended up between mine, a hand running up my thigh as well, Ellie seemed to now lean more towards rough than gentle, her other hand resting around my neck. I smiled into the kiss, pushing her off and crawling on top of her with no other sexual intentions.

“What?”

“Go figure out how to turn on the power, you ass hat.”

“Come with me. Please,” Ellie gave me puppy eyes, lightly pouting and moving her hands finding my waist. I hummed, looking away, the little shit taking the opportunity to pull herself up a bit and put her lips on my neck.

“Fine, fine, fine. But… Only if you let me take the dress back.”

“Jesus, fucki-… Fine. Now let’s go before we end up doing something we don’t need to do right now.”

“Agreed. Because you smell and I’m tired of you.”

“I smell?”

“I’m just fucking with you. Let me put my pants on and let’s go.”

Ellie chuckled, rolling from under me to stand herself up and walk over to our bags, waiting for me.

Maybe I can keep this on the low, hide it from Dina and everyone else. It’s all up to Ellie, honestly.

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witchersmistress · 2 years ago

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Simmering Rage

Hello my darlings!! you are in luck today!! ive got a couple of chapters for you, typing this out on a cellphone wasnt the best but i made do with what i had.

Trigger Warnings: Anger, Rage, Blood and violence, and self hatred

Word count:4.3 K

August pov

My phone chimes with a notification on the seat beside me. I check the screen. Lo again. I haven’t seen her since my car . After I found out what Harper did, I was in a bad place for a while. I don’t remember much of the rest of the mission. The monster operated in my place, holding space for me until I was ready to come back. When the mission l ended, and I had time to think things through, I stopped thinking about what Harper had done and finally looked at the facts behind it. Of course, my mind went straight to the one person who could have told her about Hockington—Gloria Walton.

They’d gotten close, thanks to me, and I fucking paid for it. For letting a Darling into my life, letting her get in with my friends. That’s what I get for letting anyone close to me. Still, it’s a dick move on my part not to at least give Lo a chance to defend herself. If she wasn’t the one who told Harper, I cut her off for nothing. Harper could have bribed someone who worked there, seen me leaving with someone and tracked her down, rooted through my stuff or Dad’s when she was at our house and somehow put it together. It’s better this way, though. Better not to have anyone around me who knows shit about my life. When Lo found out about room 504, it felt safer to keep her close, to give her a reason not to tell anyone. Even if we never talked about it, never talked about our families the way I did with Harper or any real shit, our friendship was real.

But letting people into my life is a mistake. People blackmail and betray. And if it was her, if she told Harper… Well, Preston can fucking have Gloria. When my phone rings a minute later, I sigh and pick it up. We can talk once. Just to clear some things up. I’m not going to give her a ride anywhere, like I used to when she didn’t have gas money. My car smells like a swamp from all the times I’ve dropped my muddy boots and rubber coveralls in here this summer. Gloria would ask questions, and I’m not about to answer. “Hey,” she says. “I figured you’d ghost me again.” “What’s up, Lo?” I ask, my voice sounding weary. “Do you use the OnlyPics app?” “No,” I say flatly, bristling at the insinuation. “Why would I?” “That’s not—I didn’t mean you’d put stuff up.” “Why?” I ask. “You don’t think people would pay to see my dick?” “No!” she says quickly. “I mean, they would, if you wanted to put it up. That’s not why I was asking, though.” “So, you don’t want to see my dick? That’s not how I remember it.” I’m being an asshole, but she’s basically calling me a whore. She knows better than to ask if I use an app that’s basically a sex worker platform. I don’t get paid for sex, and I don’t need to sell pictures of my body for money. The OnlyPics app was supposed to be a companion to OnlyWords, which is a texting app with, as its name implies, only words in the messages. Everyone likes OnlyWords, but it has no photo sharing capabilities. So the same company made OnlyPics but it was basically a knock-off Instagram where you can’t use captions and the hashtags are hidden, only used by the algorithms to know who to show them to. It probably would have died a quick death if it weren’t for the sex worker industry, who cashed in on three key features—the ability to add a link to profiles, where they added their payment link; the fifteen-second video limit, which let them put up teases to get people hooked; and the private chat feature, which let them send someone the rest of the video for whatever fee they wanted to negotiate or even video chat for a live show.

I don’t use the app because I’m not an amateur porn star, and if I want to watch porn, I can do it for free like everyone else. If I need a live feed, I have a phone full of numbers of chicks who would be happy to put on a show for me, and I can do more than watch and jerk off. I’m not interested in that any more than I am this app. “Okay, let’s try this again,” Gloria says. “You remember how Harper disappeared off the face of the earth when you dumped her?” I stiffen in my seat, yanking the wheel to pull off at the nearest exit at the last second. The car behind me lays on the horn, but I ignore it. The noise is almost drowned by the pounding of blood in my ears. “Yeah, what about it?” I ask Gloria. “Well, I think I found her.” “On a porn site?” I ask, hoping like hell someone just uploaded the video of her sucking someone’s dick from last year. It fucks with my head to think that one year ago today, I didn’t even know the name Harper Avery. It was another month before I would see her giving head in the parking lot behind the tampon factory. “Hey, don’t judge me,” Gloria says. “Your brothers have been out of town all summer, and you’ve been ignoring me. I’m having a dry spell.” I could tell her the twins are back, but if she ran her mouth to Harper, I don’t want her around my house, running her mouth to my brothers. So I point out the obvious. “There are more than three dicks in this town.” “Once you go Walker, you never go back,” she says lightly. “And anyway, I only saw it because she sent it to Dawson.” I’m glad I pulled over at the exit, because I’d probably run someone off the road right now if I were still driving. I grip the steering wheel with one hand and close my eyes. My voice comes out so normal you’d think I was just a guy who dumped a girl and didn’t give a fuck about what happened to her since. “I’m afraid to ask, but… Does your brother always share porn with you?” “No, you weirdo,” she says. “Someone DM’d him, and I’ve been obsessing about her all summer, so he showed it to me. He thinks it’s funny as shit.” “Why are you obsessing about Harper?” I demand.

What the fuck. Maybe I should have kept in touch with Lo. She could find out shit, maybe even the truth. “I don’t know,” she says. “Don’t you think it’s weird that she just… Vanished? I mean, I’m not saying you’re not worth going off the deep end over, or that you couldn’t eviscerate her heart so completely she could never love again. She liked to play it cool, but she really loved you, August. Like, the kind of love that eats you alive, and you’re never the same again.” “Put that shit on a ninety-nine cent Valentines card. You could make real money.”

“Keep playing, you didn’t feel it, too,” she says. “But y’all broke a lot of hearts when you broke up, not just your own. Everyone figured you’d get back together.” “What’s your point?” I snap. I don’t need a fucking lecture about how much I disappointed everyone. She can add it to my fucking tab for all the times I fucked up and pissed off everyone who matters. “My point is, even if Harper was devastated beyond repair, she’s not the kind of chick who would let a breakup destroy her. She’s stronger than that. You may be irreplaceable even to her, but you’re still a boy. And it would take more than one boy to break Harper.” Maybe not one boy. But one boy who shared her with two more against her will? A broken hand and a rope she couldn’t get free of, a swamp full of snakes more poisonous than her? Yeah. That could do it. “Then it obviously had nothing to do with me,” I say. “Maybe she got hooked on Lady Alice or Pearl Lady or whatever the fuck they’re calling it now, and she’s selling herself to pay for it like a regular junkie. Hell, her mom basically said as much.” “It did blow up the scene right around that time…” Gloria muses. “Maybe she’ll tell you for the right price,” I say flatly. “That’s all she’s ever cared about.” “August…”

“What?”

“Look, I don’t know everything that went down between you, but I know what it’s like to walk away from love. Just because you broke up doesn’t mean your heart wasn’t decimated, too.” My laugh is brittle, like stepping on glass. “You’re funny, Lo.” I could ask her, just come right out and be blunt, like King. But I can’t acknowledge that much aloud. The hotel is its own world. When we leave, we don’t mention what goes on there. I don’t tell the school that Gloria is a scholarship kid. I elevated her. And she never tells anyone that I get a room there every few months. Would she risk telling someone, knowing she could lose it all? Even if she hates me, she loves her status too much to risk it. What would make her turn on me like that? Harper didn’t tell that creep where she found out the information. But it has to be Lo. No one else knows. So, I hung up the phone, letting her think this is about a breakup.

That it’s not about a murder, not about a girl coming back from the dead, a ghost dragging her broken body from the swamp and crawling back into my brain to fuck with it even more. I open my email, the one connected to the OnlyWords and OnlyPics apps by default because it’s all made by the same company. I barely remember thumbing away the automatic notifications I got when someone sent me a message this summer. I ignored them all, knowing they were porn spam. My chest is hollow as I open one from my spam folder. It tells me I have twenty-four new messages on OnlyPics. I follow the link and open my direct messages. The first one is a thumbnail of a video, sent this evening. If it’s from Harper, she changed her handle from BadApple. For a few seconds, all I see is a closeup of part of her tattoo. I take it in, examining it until I realize it’s her hip crease, and pressed along the back of her thigh, an expanse of pale skin. It takes me a minute to make sense of what I’m seeing. Whoever she’s fucking, he’s got her folded in half like her legs are over his shoulders while he nails her into the bed. There’s no caption, and there are no words even on the messenger, so I have to click on the profile to find an explanation. Apple Cream Pie, $1k/min. Time seems to skip. Some caveman part of me must take over, because the next thing I know it’s five minutes later, and I’m five thousand dollars lighter, and I’m slamming my phone against the top of the steering wheel over and over. I feel it crunch and snap, but I keep pounding it until there’s nothing left in my hand, and the pieces of it are scattered across my lap and the floor. Time skips again. I’m in my driveway at home. Blood is dripping down the steering wheel and into my lap.

I open my hand and find pieces of glass jutting from my palm in a dozen places. And all I think about is that day my car was bombed, and Harper tried to pick the glass from my face with her tiny, careful fingers. I climb out of the car. There’s a black Jaguar parked on the gravel, a tall figure leaning against it. I walked up to him. Something in me seems to have been knocked loose, and I think I might fucking kill him, even though it’s just Oliver Finnegan, who never goes inside. He doesn’t approve of the family business. “Hullo, August,” he says, his Irish accent distorting the words. Or maybe it’s the ringing in my ears. “Am I in your spot? I can move the car.” “Don’t worry about it.” He cocks his head, his weird, pale eyes taking in the blood on my pants, my hand. “You alright, mate?” I shrug and head for the house. Just as I’m about to step inside, his brother steps out, a black duffle in one hand, probably full of cash or those fucking pearls everyone’s on about. Colin Fucking Finnegan. My eyes narrow, my fists clenching until I can feel the glass biting deeper, piercing through my skin and into the muscle and sinew. “Was it you?” I grind out. Part of me knows it’s impossible, but maybe he sent the photo on his way here, or maybe he took it earlier. I need Baron to find the date signature on a video, if it’s even possible. For all I know, Harper’s dead, and she took those videos herself while we were together. If she’d sell my dignity for a scholarship, why wouldn’t she sell videos of herself fucking 2other guys when she was with me? “Whatever it was, I bet it was me,” Colin says, flashing me a knowing grin that shows off his chipped front tooth. “Are you still sore about that beating you took last spring?” “You know what it’s about.” “If it’s not that, you’re pissed you didn’t get a cut of this,” he says, jiggling the bag. “Don’t fucking push me right now,” I warn. His creepy eyes go smug. “Or… You still on about that whore? I figured that’s what set you off last spring. Everyone in town knows I fucked her first. Are you just finding out?” “Where is she?” I demand, grabbing him around the neck and slamming him up against the wall. “Where the fuck do you have her, you cum guzzling, festering wad of infected dick cheese?” A cocky, defiant grin stretches his lips. “Aww, did you catch something off her?” he asks. “Wasn’t me, mate. I popped that cherry when there were barely three hairs on her pussy. Haven’t touched her since.”

I don’t know exactly what happens next. I don’t see Colin Finnegan in front of me anymore. All I see is red. The next thing I know, my brothers and Dad are holding me down on the steps, and Oliver and their uncle are holding Colin back while he curses and struggles and spits. The white gravel is painted red like the day the Darlings vandalized our house, but this time, it’s blood. “Let me up,” I growl, shoving off the step and wrenching free of my family. I stalk toward Colin, who writhes like a cat getting a bath. I can feel blood trickling down my face, the jagged edges of a few broken teeth, and the throb of one eye that’s already swelling shut. But I don’t feel pain. The other thing that lives inside me has swallowed it, and I can’t feel a thing. “Come on,” Colin yells, dancing in the grip of his brother. “Let’s do it again. I can go all night. Whoo! I feel alive!” I stop in front of him, ignoring my brothers, who have rushed up behind me to grab me if I lose my shit again. But I’m calm now. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I say to Colin. My lip is broken and swollen so thick my words come out slurred. “If I find out you’re the one who sent those videos, you won’t be alive much longer.” I turn and walk inside. I don’t know why I care. I watched two guys fuck her. I gave them permission. I made sure to watch, so I knew I could never want her again, never think she was mine. I broke her on purpose, but piece by piece, I’m the one falling to pieces.

Harpers POV

“Are you Mr. D?” I demand, standing in the Phantom’s bedroom, my whole body quaking. I hold the tag in between my finger and thumb, waving it at him. He just walked out of the shower, his body all steamy, a towel around his hips, mask over his face. He shrugs. “What about it?” Anger seethes through me. “That’s how you knew where I was that night. Isn’t it?” He opens his dresser and pulls out his underwear. I know where he keeps them. I know where everything in his apartment is. But I didn’t know his name, have never seen his face. I come when he calls, practically live here two days a week, like a goddamn whore. He promised he’d fuck me one day, and now he has. I don’t know why it matters suddenly. I never cared before. He nods vaguely toward the windows. “I keep an eye on things.” “On me,” I say, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “You keep an eye on me.” “I told you, I can be anyone you want me to be,” he says with a haughty little smirk. “As long as you’re you, Miss A.” “As long as I’m August’s fuck toy,” I correct him. “That’s why you take those pictures, isn’t it? To send to him and show him what you’ve done to me.” “What I’ve done to you?” he asks, turning to face me after pulling on a pair of sweats. They hang low on his narrow hips. Above them, the ridges of his abs are carved deep and sharp. His body is a finely chiseled sculpture. I’ve never noticed, but he’s beautiful, even without a face. “What about what he did?” He paces forward, stalking, his voice laced with fury that makes me shrink back on the bed, as if he could hurt me more than I’ve been hurt. As if he could take something from me that he hasn’t been taking all along. “You changed me,” I whisper. “I saved you.” I stare up at him, feeling guilty for feeling anything but gratitude. He works out, takes care of himself, wears exquisite clothes to work at his standing desk with three monitors, an ergonomic keyboard, and a fancy Mac computer. I’m the one who should be ashamed. I don’t take care of myself until he tells me to. He tells me to shower, puts me in fancy clothes, makes me look like a girl who could be, in some fairytale in his mind, deserving of him. And he treats me like I am.

He cooks me fancy dinners and buys me everything I need or could want without me having to ask. He even took care of my mother. I don’t treat him half as well. I don’t cook or offer to help clean up. I don’t even talk to him when I come over. While he cooks, I sit curled on his fine leather sofa, sipping his fine wine. The only thing I do for him in return for everything he’s done is spread my legs. If he’s made me a whore, I’ve let him do it. The first day he bought me something, the phone, I could have said no. But I didn’t. I let him dress me up like a doll, treat me like property, and fuck me like a whore. If anything, he’s shown me he values me more than I value myself. He bought me fucking diamonds. A girl like me, I have no right to even hope for this kind of man, this kind of treatment. I’m lucky to be his whore. But for the first time in months, I want to speak, to voice my desires. “You’re right,” I say. “You’ve treated me well. But I’m done being your whore.” “You’re not—” He breaks off, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. That’s not how I see you, Harper.” “How do you see me?” He stares at me a long moment. “I just wanted to take care of you,” he says at last. “I saw what they did to you. You’re not the only person…” He shakes his head again. “And yeah, I wanted to fuck you to piss off August. I’ll admit that. But I never saw you as a whore. I only gave you what you needed.” “Like these?” I ask, upturning the jeweler’s bag. The box falls out, the lid askew, one of the diamonds dangling out the side like something obscene. “Fair enough,” he says, moving across the room and sitting heavily on the bottom of the bed. “Maybe I had selfish reasons. But I never thought you owed me.

I know you won’t believe me. I know what I look like. You think I can’t get laid unless I buy a girl diamonds. And you’re right.” “What about your girlfriend?” I ask, my voice thick. He scoffs. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Look at me.” “So you dressed me up and pretended you did,” I say, feeling like some weird blow-up doll. I’ve acted like one. I haven’t been a whole person since before the swamp. I’ve been a doll, broken into a million pieces, and he’s pieced some of them back together—at least on the outside. But he can’t fix me inside. He can reach in, but he won’t find anything to piece back together. I’m hollow. “I never pretended to be a good guy,” he says. “Don’t act shocked that I’m exactly who I was all along.” “But you never told me who you were,” I point out. “You never asked.” “I did.” We sat side by side for a while, neither of us speaking. “You don’t want to know who I am,” he says. “Look at me. Look at what I’ve become.” I could say the same thing.

When I tell Mr. D I’m not coming back, he doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t get ready to take me home as usual. I ask if he’s taking me home, and he says no, but he doesn’t stop me when I take his keys. I keep waiting for him to come after me, but he just studies me, his face behind that infuriating blank mask, his one good eye watching me leave. In the garage, I climb into his truck. I’m sure he’s going to come down and stop me. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely get the key in. I open the garage on the bottom level of his building, and I drive out. I keep checking the rearview, sure I’ll see him coming after me. But he lets me go. Some sick part of me deflates when I turn into my driveway and he’s not there. Not even Mr. D thinks I’m worth hunting down. I climb out of the truck and go inside. Nothing has changed. But everything has. Without the Tuesday and Thursday excursions, I stop leaving the house. I ignore the staff that comes in and cleans my house on a weekly basis. I don't care where they came from or who hired them.

There’s no point. I Don't even return his truck. It sits like an oversized monster in our driveway, drawing attention from anyone and everyone. I hide the keys inside a tear in my box spring, I sleep with a switchblade in one hand for the nightmares that plague my every waking moment, as if my fall from grace has given them permission to terrorize me, maybe they can smell my brokenness, my weakness, the way I can smell alcohol on Duke’s breath. And even though I was sure I felt nothing all those months, now that I don’t see the Phantom, there’s an ache left inside me that he once soothed.

When I wake myself up croaking feebly, from a dream where I’m gagged, silenced as I try to force sound from my strangled throat, there are only blankets to wrap around me instead of his strong, salient arms. I stop leaving the house, stop doing anything. I can’t remember why it mattered to be clean, to eat, to live. One evening, as I’m lying corpse like in my bed, a tap sounds at my grimy window. I’m so startled I sit up before my brain can kick in and say what it says about everything—it’s not worth it. It doesn’t matter. Turning my head I see a crow pecking at the shiny part of my window. Standing up and making my way into the bathroom, I turn on the lights avoiding the mirror. I don't want to look at the girl in the mirror. I just can't.Turning on the hot water in the sink letting it fog up my mirror, I scoop the water with my hands and splash it on my face.

I know I should care but I can't summon the energy. My sponsor is gone. There’s no way out. I’ve given up, accepted the fact that I’ll be just like my dead beat mother. Turning off the water and raising my head, reluctantly I look back at my reflection, I meet my soulless eyes and stare. I should want to rage against this weak girl that I've become, to become the monster those boys wanted me to be.. Turning off the lights and walking back to my room. Dropping back down into bed, I looked out the grimy window and let out a deep sigh, I can't stay like this broken doll. But I just don't care anymore..

A while later, lying in my bed, I think maybe it’s time I did.

#henry cavill characters #henry cavill x you #august walker fanfic #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker imagines #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henrycavill smut #henry cavill thirst

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ohlawsons · 2 years ago

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ever bittersweet, ch. 02 | dani/herald/ortega, 2316 words welcome to ot3: asshole (affectionate) x asshole (derogatory) x daniel

“Need anything else? A drink? Painkillers?” A pause. “Full body massage?”

Dani leans back with a scowl, tilting their head up to look at Ortega as she leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “Asshole.” There’s no heat behind the words, just the familiar taunting that they know Ortega got used to years ago. “You could toss me the remote.”

“Sure thing.” Instead of grabbing the remote from where it sits on the side table, Ortega moves to sit beside them on the couch. With a guilty sort of look, Daniel follows suit and takes a seat opposite Dani; his thoughts are a flurry of different things, deliberately avoiding some topic that Dani’s too tired to try and work out.

There’s a sudden, uneasy silence over the living room, and Dani’s scowl settles into something deeper. “What is this, a fucking intervention?” The words are too sharp, too unkind; fury and terror and regret roil within their chest, and it takes longer than they’d like to try and calm themself. It’s… hard to remember, sometimes, that neither Daniel nor Ortega have to go through all the trouble to help them, given how wholly and completely they currently are at their mercy. There’s no ulterior motives, no maliciously planned long con — just two people who have seen who they really are and still want to help.

(And there’s that little voice at the back of their mind, viscous and sickly and staining so many of their thoughts these days; it reminds them that this is a weakness, moreso than their broken body and shattered legs.

Fingerprints can be erased. Minds can be altered. But hearts? Hearts are stubborn. Hearts remember.

Their own is proof enough of that.)

They’ve only just calmed their furiously racing pulse when Ortega moves to let an arm drape loosely along the back of the couch, behind Dani, and their pulse spikes again. “You want one?” she asks, voice light but with a sharper edge than normal. It’s a jab meant to tease, Dani knows this, but there’s an invitation to argue. “I never thought something as simple as an intervention would’ve worked on you.”

“Never stopped you from trying.” Theirs is a jab meant to wound. To linger. Scowling, snapping, severing whatever tenuous thread of understanding they’ve worked out with Ortega over the past week.

The fact that they can taste how their words make frustration and disappointment bubble up in Daniel’s mind is satisfying in a way that makes them sick. Like they’re feeding some part of themself they should be killing off, cutting out.

“No, it didn’t.” Good, she’s defensive. Leaning back. Keeping her arm along the back of the couch but gripping it like a lifeline, now. “You want me to apologize for it? For giving a shit? For trying so much harder this time?” She cuts off with a sharp intake of breath, running a hand through her hair; Daniel speaks her name, as soft as he is insistent — he doesn’t want to get involved, Dani can tell, but his thoughts are a whirlwind of concern and frustration and certainty that the tension between the two of them will only ever do more harm than good — but Ortega ignores him. “I’ve already lost you once, Dani. Sorry for trying to be a better friend this time around.”

“A better friend would’ve left me alone when I asked.”

“Dani—“

“That goes for both of you,” they snap, whirling on Daniel as best they can with their injury limiting their movements. They’re not crying — they don’t cry, can’t remember the last time they did — but they can feel the stinging in their eyes, undoubtedly red-rimmed as they glare at him. The anger builds and snarls and aches, a hollow pressure in their chest that rises and sticks in their throat as they turn to face Ortega again. “I’m sorry they didn’t put the fucking pieces back right after they scraped me off the goddamned pavement, but it’s not your job to try and fix that.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.” Soft. Hurt.

There’s a heavy beat of silence; Dani doesn’t know exactly what to say, not just yet, but they know it’s going to be loud. Mean. But Daniel beats them to it, voice sharp and insistent without the cruelty that Dani’s trying to muster up. “Can we please have one conversation that doesn’t immediately become an argument?” he asks, leaning forward, brow furrowed in that particular determined way that Dani’s come to learn. His mind is still a mess of concern for Dani and something he’s keeping stubbornly buried, but a few thoughts slip to the top, in clear view for Dani to read — regret because the conversation wasn’t supposed to go like this, quiet resignation that he’ll just have to be a mediator between them now, and a now-familiar confusion as he tries to navigate where he fits in… this.

Ortega looks away — pulls away — and, as usual, Dani can’t make out her expression. They let out a long, slow breath, taking their anger and shoving it aside, letting that darker, bitter part of them chew on it while they calm themself. “You’re hovering,” they say, voice quiet enough that they’re not sure Daniel will even hear; the little flustered spike of embarrassment from him makes Dani’s lips twitch. Not quite a smile. Not yet. “And I’m… sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know.” It’s Daniel who answers first, with a smile that doesn’t even look forced. “We both do.”

“Are you, though?” When Ortega speaks up again, the words are tired. Soft. Carefully not picking a fight, not this time; she still gets a heated warning glance from Daniel. “Trying?”

“I am.” The truth, hard and bitter but not cruel. “If you want to be the one to wheel me to therapy each week, I won’t argue. I know it’s not fair to be so angry all the time, but I don’t… I don’t know where it comes from or what to do with it.” It takes a moment for them to realize that they’re scratching at their skin, fingers grasping and clawing at their bicep where they know the tattoos are hidden beneath the layers; they need a cigarette, but not badly enough to get into another argument about the habit.

They can sense Daniel moving a fraction of a second before he does, drifting to stand upright to comfort them, but Ortega beats him to it. She reaches — slow, careful, cautious — to place a hand over Dani’s, untangling their fingers from the fabric of their jacket. “Hey.”

“I’m okay.” They don’t pull away, and let Ortega continue to hold their hand, as gentle as she’s ever been with them; their eyes flick over to Daniel, now seated again, brow furrowed in concern even if his thoughts are tinted with confusion — what to do, how to act, if he should still go to them — but not a hint of jealousy. “I’m okay,” they say again, more for his sake now. They aren’t sure he believes them. He isn’t sure he believes them.

But they don’t want to talk about this anymore. About themself. About how fucked up they’ve become.

Besides, if they linger here on the topic any longer, they’ll end up snapping again. Proving their own point. Because they’re supposed to be alone — safe and protected and without weaknesses or liabilities — but somehow they’ve ended up with two people who’ve seen the worst of them and decided to stay.

Perhaps they haven’t seen the worst. But they’ve seen enough.

“Look.” Dani forces out a slow breath, rubbing at their eyes with their free hand. Their vision swims with little black spots when they look up. “You wanted to talk about something.”

“We did. But maybe…” Daniel glances towards Ortega, and his thoughts are all but screaming maybe later, maybe not now. Maybe not the right time.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around things with me,” they say, blunt and plain but not harsh. “I promise that nothing either of you have to say will break me. Trust me. I would know.” Maybe it’s a little cruel to say. A little too sharp of a reminder of the things they’ve gone through. Maybe they’re not trying all that hard, after all, not with the way satisfaction settles deep within the cracks in their chest when Ortega and Daniel both flinch at their words.

The pair shares another glance. Ortega gives a light squeeze to Dani’s hand that she’s still holding, and the smile she offers is a little too warm and sincere. “It’s nothing bad. We just had a talk about what you suggested when we brought you here. About us.”

Oh. Not exactly what they would’ve guessed, but they suppose it makes sense in hindsight given what they’d picked up from Daniel. Fuck — the pain and exhaustion really is getting to them if they couldn’t see that coming.

“And?”

She shrugs, and the smile grows into that cocky, charming grin that Dani’s more used to. “I think the general consensus is we’re game if you are.”

Dani can’t help the sudden, sharp laugh that escapes their lips, the sound more choked than amused — relief and happiness and something warmer and brighter, all released at once. Years of dancing around Ortega. dancing around themself, dancing around the kissing and the avoiding and the whispered not-quite-confessions. A few rushed months of whatever this thing is that they’ve fallen into with Daniel.

(That darker part of their mind speaks up, somewhere between the relief and the warmth they suspect might be love, and reminds them that this is dangerous. Stupid. Twice the risk. Twice the heartbreak — ha. Twice the inevitability that they’ll end up back at the Farm. But maybe they deserve this — happiness and hope and love didn’t get them very far last time, did it, but when this eventually all goes wrong they’ll have twice the anger and regret and self-loathing.

They know how to use that.)

“Well,” they take a long, slow breath, summoning up something more caustic than genuine; more like Ortega, more like themself — barbs meant to prod and poke and tease, not to wound, “as long as we’re all aware that the two of you will have to do all the heavy lifting in this relationship.” Lips pressed into a tight grin, they gesture to their legs, propped up and immobile and covered by a pair of light blankets.

“Of course.” Daniel’s floating, again, but Dani doesn’t even notice until he does and forces himself to land, standing just a few steps away from the couch. Still trying to figure out how this all works, still not sure what to make of the naked adoration on Dani’s face when they look at Ortega — are they that obvious or is Daniel that good at reading them? — and still quietly unraveling an old, long-buried crush on Julia. He’s happy with the way things are working out, his mind bright and radiant in a way that’s… unavoidable. Contagious.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.

...

It’s late. The only light comes from the credits rolling on the tv screen and the faint, hazy orange glow of the Los Diablos night that seeps in through the tinted windows.

The movie’s been over for a good few minutes, now, but no one seems ready to move; Dani’s still seated on one end of the couch, an empty beer bottle in one hand and Daniel’s hands in the other. He sits beside them, close enough to brush against them but always so careful not to press into them or jostle them; he’s been tracing fingers along the lines of the tattoos on Dani’s hand — their tattoos, the ones they’d chosen for themself, thick lines of black ink etched into geometric patterns across the back of their hand. Ortega’s on the other side of him, sprawled against the corner of the couch — one arm draped over the back, one leg tucked up under her, looking like she’s taking up as much space as Daniel and Dani combined.

It’s quiet. Comfortable.

Ortega’s the one to break the fragile silence, letting out a soft curse as she stands and sends one of the empty bottles, discarded at the foot of the couch, rolling across the room. She collects the handful of empty bottles, and when Dani holds theirs out, she takes that one, too.

“Shit.” A poorly stifled yawn. “Didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” She disappears into the kitchen, and after a moment she calls back out, “I should probably get going.”

How often had that been Dani? How many times had they been the one to leave Ortega’s apartment despite the late hour, even knowing that it would be the early hours of the morning by the time they made the trek to their own apartment and slid into bed?

Their thoughts are cut off in a flurry of happy warmth — whether theirs or Daniel’s, they don’t know anymore — as Ortega reappears behind the couch, placing a soft kiss first to the top of Daniel’s head, then Dani’s.

Teasing. Grinning. Idiot.

“Stay?” The word is quiet and slips out before Dani can stop it. They wonder, briefly, if they’re imposing; it is still Daniel’s apartment, after all, but once the offer sinks into his tired mind, he’s beaming, his thoughts bright and pleased and the tiniest bit flustered.

He mirrors Dani, craning his neck to look back at Ortega. “You’re welcome to, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Jules.”

She lets out a little huff of a laugh at the old nickname. “Yeah. Alright. I’m taking the couch though, if that’s not too weird.” She offers a grin that’s wide and cocky and charming, and pairs it with a wink. “I’m not that easy to get into bed.”

Maybe, Dani thinks, this isn’t so bad.

#fhr #julia ortega #fhr herald #chargestep #flystep #sidestep #dani gutierrez tag #fic: dani #brooke writes things #dani is the equivalent of a feral kitten who hisses and spits as theyre being pet

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 2 years ago

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And Eat It, Too - Chapter Three: Double-Stitched

In which Georgie rocks, Jon is marked by the Slaughter, Elias is a bigger bastard than usual, and Michael tries its hand at some nifty new surgical techniques...

>>> NOW ON AO3!

Bastard Elias warning.

Slaughter-typical violence.

(Masterpost including playlist)

CHAPTER THREE

Going to work is the last thing he wants to do right now.

Jon wants to find the “last resort” Gertrude supposedly left behind.

Jon wants to avoid his coworkers, who no doubt hate his guts and will believe nothing he says.

Jon wants to go back to bed and sleep, except that will mean traveling through other people’s dreams again, watching their suffering.

Two were missing last night. He knows what that means. It means they died. The Fears finally caught them.

He’s ill as he tries to explain to Georgie what happened over toast and tea.

Not last night. No. He won’t touch that. She may not be able to feel fear, but he knows she’d call him an idiot, and she’d be right.

“What good are all these eye powers if nobody could find you for a month?” Georgie says.

“I’m still not completely sure they couldn’t,” Jon mutters. “Elias might have just left me there.”

Georgie looks suitably horrified. “You could have died.”

“Welcome to my life.”

“Jon. Quit. I keep telling you—”

“You know I can’t. We can’t. None of us can. It… it’s been taken from us, somehow.” He sighs. “Besides… I have to stop the Circus.”

“It shouldn’t all be on you, Jon,” says Georgie, and the look she gives him is why he fell in love years ago, it’s why he thought he could make it work even though he was made of spikes and sorrow.

“Well. It is,” he says. “Anyway, I… still need to look for a new place today.”

She sips tea. “Careful. The last time you said you were moving out at once, you disappeared taking trash to the bins.”

Kidnapped again, is what she isn’t saying. “Well, that was hardly my plan, was it?” he says.

“I don’t know. Was it?” And that look is why it did not work, and why their parting was less than amicable. “You weren’t being careful.”

“I didn’t know they were going to do that!”

“I think you should expect it, by now. Make your default mode going to be kidnapped.” She sips her tea. “I haven’t seen a lot of wise choices from you since you got here, Sims.”

Jon sighs. Definitely not telling her about last night. “I’m sorry, Georgie. About all of this.”

“Well, I’m not.” She clears the plates. “Let me know where you move.”

“No. You don’t deserve to be dragged any further into this.”

She plants her hands on the table and leans into his face. “Don’t insult me,” says Georgie Barker, What the Ghost podcast host, once the love of his life, and now the only person he truly counts as a friend. “You’re not the only one who gets to make choices here.”

“Now who’s making unwise decisions?”

“Not me. I’m not the one late for work.” She pauses, putting dishes in the sink. “If you’re gone before I get back, at least… feed the Admiral one more time. Put the key in the mail slot.”

“I will.” I still love you, but not like that. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” She doesn’t look at him again before leaving to dress for work.

It’s later that day that Jon realizes he can read French.

But he can’t read French. He was always rubbish at other languages, lacking the focus (or whatever magic it requires) to think through words in something other than his mother tongue.

But that didn’t stop him from reading and living François Deschamps’ recollection of the shit-show that was The Corruption seducing Benoît Maçon, filling him with bugs crawling out from under his fingernails and bliss he never realized was false as he let the thing consume him from within and become, become, become.

Jon read it. In French. And didn’t even notice.

It takes him a moment, but Jon decides this falls into creepy more than it does useful.

At least he knows where Gertrude went from there. Her laptop was finally proving itself worth the effort it took to crack.

New Zealand. Huh. “Right,” he mutters, scribbling notes. “Date range and country—maybe we can find something, some statement showing where she—”

“Jon?”

Jon hunches.

He’d managed to avoid everyone so far, but sure enough, Martin tracked him down. (In his office. Not much of a hiding spot.)

And he brought tea. “I… hello.” Martin inches in, stepping so quietly for such a large man, and places the tea on the desk.

“Martin,” says Jon softly, already feeling awful, the guilt from months of stalking and paranoia just lingering like disease.

Martin suddenly bursts. “I’m so sorry, John, I – Elias didn’t even tell any of us that you’d been kidnapped. I didn’t know –”

This is worse.

Jon raises his hands. “It’s all right! Martin, it… Elias didn’t tell anyone. There’s no way you could have known, and I wasn’t exactly here before, anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.”

It’s weird, that confirmation. Jon half-wanted the lie of social acceptability, the denial of his bad behavior, but Martin didn’t do that.

Jon decides that’s good.

“I mean,” Martin suddenly continues, “I’m sure you would have been, if you could.”

Jon makes a sound. He doesn’t deserve that grace.

“Are you all right? They… didn’t hurt you?”

Jon touches the bruises on his chin, hidden by poor lighting and dark skin. Thinks of warped calliope music, choking on a spray of water, plastic hands and violation. “No, I… I’m okay,” he lies, desperately searching for words, and suddenly has to laugh. “I mean, my skin’s in better condition than… ever. Is that… a weird thing to say?”

“A bit?” says Martin.

Jon could hug him right now. “It was basically all she talked about,” he says, floodgates opening with foolishness and enthusiasm. “Orsinov. I… it was…”

Martin’s face is a journey.

Don’t be so honest, Sims, he upbraids himself, lessons he learned as a child and has apparently forgotten now. “How has everyone been?” he asks instead.

And it’s about what he thought.

Tim is not okay. That’s an ache almost as bad as Sasha, except as long as Tim’s alive, maybe he can fix it.

Melanie (damn you, Elias, for hiring her) is a mess, subtly mutinous.

Basira is vibing. Who knew?

“And I don’t know where Daisy is, and that’s fine by me,” says Martin with the sweetest vindictiveness Jon has ever heard.

“All right.” Questions bubble, trying to burst from him like cooking oil, but he keeps himself to just one more. “Martin, does the rest of the Institute even know what’s going on down here?”

“Not really? I mean, Tim’s been going on about it to anyone who listens, but they just think he had a bit of a breakdown. I mean, they can quit.”

Jon sighs.

And then Martin talks about someone named Hannah whom Jon’s never seen in his life leaving to have her baby, and something about a milk incident in the breakroom, and he is lost, lost, and wonders if this is how people feel when they talk to him.

Martin seems to sense it and jumps back on topic. “So, are you coming back?”

New Zealand, Jon thinks. “I… I’m not sure. I may have to travel. Sort of a treasure hunt.”

“Oh?”

“In the sense of the world not ending, I mean.”

Martin looks exactly as shocked as Jon thinks is appropriate for that. “Oh.”

“I’ll keep in touch,” Jon promises, too little, too late, and then when Martin warms, makes it impersonal. “I need you digging into things. Researching for me.”

Martin’s warmth dims.

Jon misses it. “Um. Here. Anywhere in mid-2014, anything mentioning New Zealand. Can you, ah…”

“Sure, Jon,” says Martin, taking the post-it and brushing his fingers.

Martin goes red, stammers something indecipherable, and runs out of the office.

Jon stares at the door. “All right.”

At least Martin doesn’t hate him.

Jon doesn’t know why. Martin should. But he doesn’t.

Jon takes up all the statements he can find on the Spiral, and turns the tape recorder on.

Jon did not go to see Elias, and now, it’s far too late. Past eight; he’s missed his chance to look for a new place to live, too, and he’s kicking himself for it.

“Couldn’t just leave at a reasonable hour, could I,” he mutters, packing his things away with unnecessary aggression. “No, I had to stay until dark fell, because that’s the smart way to handle this, that’s the way to avoid getting kidnapped again.”

Fitting, he supposes, to lose track of time while studying the Spiral.

So many victims. The horror of doubting everything, from whether they really found a child’s tooth in their coffee to their own actual existence. It’s about fear, after all—the slow and terrifying loss of sanity, with awareness, bit by bit—and sometimes, Michael shows up. He’s not the only manifestation of the Spiral, but he is memorable: a charming, handsome blond man, smiling at them and invading their homes and laughing as they go mad and then die.

Elias was right. This was a terrible idea.

He’s not right, and he can go to hell, Jon retorts, shoving it aside, and checks the cheap, prepaid phone he just finished charging. He’s proud of himself for remembering to pick this up on the way in.

(Not so proud of the fact that he thought burner phone like the spy novels, but it was thrilling at the time.)

His bank account is, fortunately, all right. Elias continued to pay him while he was on the run for murder. Go figure. Jon can afford a cab, and that seems a much better idea than dealing with public transport right now. He thinks he has enough for a deposit on a new apartment, too, if he doesn’t stay too close to the Institute—gods know, it’s expensive in Chelsea.

“Not fair, is it?” he mutters to no one as he stalks from his office, glaring around like an angry badger in case he runs into anyone else. “Not enough to deal with the end of the world, no, not enough to sleep with mind-eating monsters and dancing mannequins, but we’ve got to pay bills on top of it. Ridiculous.”

Up the stairs (maybe it’s all those Buried statements, but elevators feel bad right now), through the quiet, dark library, and he’s almost to the front door when he hears the shouting.

It’s Melanie. She’s screaming?

She’s cursing.

Someone is getting their ears torn out, anyway.

Jon’s hand is on the door. A step from freedom. He could just go. He could just do it—

“I’ll kill you!” he hears, and runs in that direction before he can think.

Her raging turns to true screams, and he drops his bag to run faster.

Rosie’s gone home, desk empty, but Elias’s office is lit, the door open, its glass shattered all over the floor.

The screaming stops just as he leaps in.

Melanie is on her knees.

She’s gripping a wicked-looking knife.

She’s also gripping her head, digging in with her nails so hard that she’s making her scalp bleed, and whatever she’s staring at is nowhere in this room.

“Melanie!” Jon cries, going to her.

Elias sits behind his desk, unruffled, eyebrows up. “I was wondering when you’d pop in for our chat. Pity you didn’t come sooner.”

What was this? What was this? “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing I would do to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” says Elias.

Melanie screams.

It’s long, drawn until she’s out of breath, and then she just goes quiet again.

She’s cut into her own ear with the knife. Jon pulls it from her hand and drops it on the floor, relieved that she doesn’t fight him. “Melanie. Melanie, look at—”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jon,” says Elias, who’s already gone back to scribbling on paperwork. “You don’t want her associating her current… predicament with your face, I assure you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Elias sighs, puts down his pen, and steeples his fingers with a long-suffering look. “While you’ve been gone—”

“Kidnapped!”

“Yes. While you’ve been gone, she has tried to kill me three times.”

Jon blinks at him. “What?”

“She doesn’t believe me, you see—that my death would result in your death, and Basira’s, and everybody’s. Though the part of her that does believe considers it a fair trade.”

Jon looks back and forth, back and forth, out of words, feeling his experience being eaten by the Eye, feeling pleasure coursing through him as a sick and unwanted thank you for all the new horror, and turns away from them both, panting.

“What did you do, Elias?” he says to the floor.

“I showed her something she did not want to see.” So casual, backed by the scratch of pen on paper.

“Showed her? What, you… shoved… images into her brain?” Another power he knew nothing about?

“I warned her last time that if she did it again, I’d burn them into her memory,” Elias says in a near-whisper. “Well, here we are.” And he makes a genteel shrug, hands to either side, politely regretful with his whole body.

Melanie is shaking, crying silently. She seems completely disconnected, drowned in whatever Elias did.

Jon wonders if any of the Eye’s glaring gifts include setting people on fire.

“That’s more the Devastation’s thing, I think,” says Elias. “Now, we need to continue our discussion from last night.”

“We damn well do not,” says Jon, trying to lift her. “She needs a doctor.”

“She needs to sit in it and learn,” snaps Elias. “And we need to talk.”

“Go to hell, Elias,” Jon says, and pulls her up anyway.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Elias calls after them, but does not follow.

Melanie is hard to move. She’s stiff, unresponsive. Her whole body is a rictus of misery. And she’s panting.

“Come on, Melanie,” he mutters, knowing she can’t hear him. “Almost there. Don’t scream again. We don’t need police attention, or some… predator, drawn toward the sound. You’re all right. You can do this.”

She makes no noise at all.

He looks for a cab. No way she’s good for the tube right now, absolutely no—

Melanie attacks him.

She had a second knife somewhere (and he knew that, he knew that, some part of his Eye-brain knew that she did, but he’d ignored it), and she gets him deep in the shoulder and he goes down with a cry.

She screams at him, roars, raising both hands with the knife overhead like some kind of vampire slayer, and against the streetlights and cloud-dark sky, she looks completely insane.

Instinct curls Jon up, making himself as small a target as possible.

Silence.

He peeks.

She is gone. Off, into the night, who knows where.

“What?” he gasps. “She stopped?”

Did she go back after Elias?

No, he thinks. Even in her current state (and he knows somehow that this madness isn’t Elias’ fault, but he doesn’t want to believe that, so he doesn’t), she will go nowhere near the “heart of the Institute” for a while. In fact, Elias’ proximity might be why she ran.

His shoulder is beginning to feel…not good.

Jon sits up, panting. His hand comes away very wet and very red.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes, Archivist, and look what you’ve gotten yourself into,” purrs Michael from behind him, sounding on the edge of laughter. “But then, I suppose you can’t be blamed for the Slaughter’s attentions.”

Fear leaps, juddering his already rapid heart.

All the statements he’s read flood through him, there and known in an instant, a half-dozen traumas in the blink of an eye. He swallows. “The Slaughter? Melanie? Since when?”

“Oh, I don’t know that,” says Michael, now crouching in front of him. His human guise is an insult, cherubic, still a large man, but far too innocent for the monster it hides.

Jon blinks once.

Michael is significantly closer without having seemed to move.

That, or blood loss is doing a number on him. I’m blacking out, he thinks, slightly panicked.

Elias has to be seeing this whole thing. They’re still on Institute property.

Jon knows he won’t be given aid. Not when all of this can feed the damned Eye.

I can do it myself, he thinks as he stands.That’s a lot of blood, he thinks as goes back down to his knees.

“It’s almost sad to see you like this,” says Michael, watching him with complete fascination. “Almost.”

“Either help me, or go away,” Jon snaps.

Michael laughs. “No?” it says, because both suggestions are funny, and Jon tries to crawl down the last of the stairs.

Melanie. He has to find her.

He has no chance of finding her.

The Eye could help him find her.

She’s infected by the Slaughter, somehow.

If he finds her, she’ll kill him.

If he doesn’t find her, she’ll kill someone else—or worse, infect other people.

Jon chokes and looks at his shoulder. Is he infected? Is he about to go mad, slashing at innocents?

“You do have some protections, you know,” says Michael, who has crouched again on each step as Jon’s achieved it, watching him at eye-height with the same unblinking interest. “A little wound like that won’t make you their servant.”

“Oh, good, I’ll bleed out with my own mind intact,” Jon says, and tries to stand again.

A car passes. A cab—

Jon couldn’t get its attention in time. Just raising his good hand is… a lot. “Ugh,” he says, and decides to lie down on the cold, stone step, facing the sky, and hope that rain comes to wash the blood away.

Michael leans over, ruining the view. “Are you done already?” it says, hair curtaining Jon’s face.

“If I say yes, will you go away?” Jon says.

Michael laughs, and Jon closes his eyes, riding it through, trying to find some place within it that doesn’t hurt so much.

And then Michael is close, so close that its breath tickles his face, and it has no odor at all. “You. Need. A door,” it whispers, and Jon falls through.

He lands in the Corridors with a thud and stares as a ceiling-door—yellow, of course—slams shut and disappears.

Or was it a ceiling-door?

Wait.

Is he on the ceiling?

Wait.

Michael laughs. “I do so love these first few moments, Archivist. I would keep you like this forever, if I could.”

His shoulder is throbbing. His heart is racing. “Let’s see Elias talk to me in here,” Jon challenges no one for no discernable reason, and then moans as Michael prods the wound.

“S-stop that,” Jon says. “It hurts.”

“No,” it says.

Prod, poke, stab.

Jon decides he has enough energy to roll away from it.

Michael stays crouched there. Blood paints its long fingers—his blood—and it seems more interested in him than ever.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Jon says with more courage than he feels, and then realizes what Michael did.

His shoulder has been stitched.

No, not sane stitches. That pattern means something, makes the eyes spin if looked at too long, but by gum, the wound is closed.

He’s stunned.

“I have made you speechless,” observes Michael, deeply pleased. “We’ll add that to the tally, shall we?”

“Wh… why did you…”

“What will you do now, Archivist?”

Jon scowls. “How should I know? I… I need to find Melanie.”

“You do know she’ll return on her own, don’t you?” says Michael. “She is marked by the Slaughter, but she still belongs to the Ceaseless Watcher. You only need wait.”

“You are not the reasonable one in this conversation,” snaps Jon, thinking of a victim who couldn’t sleep until her heart gave out, thinking of a priest convinced he was possessed because the Spiral tricked him into eating parishioners, thinking of—

“You’re very concerned with my dietary choices,” says Michael.

“You had no right to eat them,” he snaps. “They were innocent.”

“Innocent? What is innocent? I am fear, Archivist; fear of madness and delusion, fear that they create themselves. I only drink it, like a flower drinks the light. What is innocent? They create, I take. That is the natural order of things.”

“It’s wrong, is what it is,” Jon says, shaky, aware he’s inside Michael right now, aware that he’ll have no egress unless Michael lets him go. “Those people didn’t deserve to be driven mad and then destroyed.”

“Oh?” Michael tilts its head and smiles, smiles, its face splitting like some sort of alien’s, its darkness spilling out through its lips and its ears and its eyes and its pores until it is a writhing mass of smudgy black, veiling the human form. “And who, in your opinion, does? Not that your opinion will change things, you understand. But I am curious.”

“I am not assigning victims for you!” Jon says, pressing back against the wall (it’s papered, why does it feel like flesh, why does it feel like skin) and then lurching forward again, shuddering.

“Then you cannot critique my choice of them.”

How did this happen, how did he get himself into this mess, is Michael actually asking, will it take advice if given, would it ever stop taking people (Jon knows that’s a no), does he actually have the right to declare who deserves death and who does not—

“Archivist,” sings Michael.

“I’m thinking,” Jon says.

“Do you wish to sleep here?”

That takes a moment to parse. “What, in your stomach? No!”

“Then I shall take you away. If I leave you bleeding on the street tonight, something will just come and kill you. And that pleasure is mine, someday.”

Jon groans. Returning to Georgie’s now feels like some kind of defeat. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh, Archivist,” says Michael, having gone back to looking human. “I don’t want you there. You have to be quiet there, and I dislike it.”

“I said I’m not sleeping in the Corridors.”

Michael grins. Behind it opens a door.

There is a room. A fancy one.

It’s some kind of penthouse. High up, the far wall entirely of glass and framing London’s skyline, a stunning view across the Thames and a glimpse of Westminster Palace.

The only lights are ambient, from the city, and he can only see what’s immediately beyond the door.

Jon could not fight this curiosity to save his life. He has to snoop.

It’s largely empty, furniture wrapped in sheets, dark and cool and slightly golden from the nightlights of the city. Jon wanders to the windows and stares down at the narrow, tree-lined street without cars, across the glittering water, at the distant lighted places of government.

He barely hears traffic. It smells like nothing.

He turns.

Michael has commandeered one of the sheet-covered couches and lies there, watching him.

Don’t do it, Jon tells himself, then goes to explore, anyway.

The kitchen has more (and fancier) cooking implements than he could use for the rest of his life.

The bedrooms have the same glass walls, but darker, as if covered with some kind of film for privacy. They are also furnished, and one closet is full of clothes.

The bathroom is bigger than Georgie’s whole apartment.

He looks for a sign of who owns it, tries to determine if it’s someone Michael has killed, tries to find any indication of what the hell this is.

Nothing. He storms back out. “What is this?”

“It belongs to one of us who is.”

“You’ll have to explain better than that.”

“The worker-of-clay is gone, Archivist,” says Michael, and its tone is bad again, its tone bitter, like when it told its story in the Circus, and Jon listened without breath. “When Gertrude succeeded, and the altar to me fell, he tore out his veins to dissolve himself in crimson mud, and all we had built was scattered. Some of us were cast to all the places that aren’t. Some… survived, though Sanikov Land did not. One of those who lived owns this place. I asked, and he has given it to me.”

“Given it to you? What—someone touched by the Distortion has a job?” Jon has no idea why that didn’t occur to him before. Even Gabriel (the worker-of-clay, indeed) must have had a source of income. Still, it seems absurd. “I doubt you’ll be paying the property tax,” he snaps, fighting the sorrow he hears in its voice, striving not to know the regret and loss at the failure of its ritual, but he cannot help it, cannot push it aside, and he sits on another sheeted thing as he takes it all in.

It had been so happy when the Great Twisting almost came true. Weirdly, innocently happy.

Ivo Lensik's father, he reminds himself, fighting compassion. The man on the stair who wasn’t there. Deborah Madaki and her entire sculpting class.

“Do you think I deserved to fall, Archivist?” says Michael in a light tone.

“Yes,” says Jon, softly. “But I’m…” Not sure? “You’re evil.”

“What is evil? Do you blame the sun for for burning? The water for drowning? Lions, for hunting gazelle? I am a what, Archivist, not a who—and cannot be bound by your definitions.”

“Michael, that’s not true,” Jon says, frustrated.

Michael laughs. “That is a name.”

Jon puts his face in his hands. His shoulder hurts. He feels woozy. “Take me back,” he says, muffled. “I can’t handle your conundrums tonight.”

“No,” says Michael.

“Then I’ll walk out of here,” says Jon.

“Any door you choose will become me, Archivist,” says Michael.

“Why? Why would you do that? You’re trapping me here until I go mad?”

Michael finds his panic hilarious, apparently, and gives it voice.

Jon leans forward, breath shallow, riding it out. He’s almost found it, he thinks: the place to go where Michael’s laugh isn’t so horrid, though he’d be hard-pressed to explain it to anyone.

And Michael answers him. “Because you are not well. Because you will try to chase down a servant of the Slaughter who knows your face and blames you for her pain. Because you have lost more blood than you realize—believe me, your delirium is delicious—and while I will eventually kill you, I do not wish you to die tonight. You are far more pleasing alive, for now.”

Jon sighs and lies back on the sheet. He thinks this might be some kind of settee.

“Rest, Archivist,” Michael soothes.

This is suicidal.

On the other hand, Jon’s not sure he has the strength to go anywhere else right now.

The Eye will do its thing; by morning, he’ll be fine, wound halfway to scarring, blood renewed. Tonight, he thinks he’d make it halfway down whatever fire-escape stairway he could find before passing out.

Assuming Michael even let him enter the fire escape.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” he murmurs, and just to be stubborn: “I don’t even have my things.”

Michael dangles his bag. When the creature had a chance to grab that, he’ll never know.

An idea surfaces.

It feels awful. Worse than worse, like he’s betraying a friend—but like so many moments in his life right now, he feels he has no choice. “Could you hand me my phone, please?”

Michael does, the small, black rectangle delicately pinched between its sharp fingers.

Jon dials.

“Basira,” he says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Do you know where Daisy is? Right. There’s… something you need to know.” He rubs his face. “Please tell Daisy… don’t kill her. I don’t know what’s happened, but Melanie’s been infected by the Slaughter.”

(part four)

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #the magnus archives fic #tma fanfic #long fic #jonathan sims #michael distortion #melanie king #the slaughter #and eat it too

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