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axigailxo · 10 months ago

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Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months ago

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Holly Jolly - Ch. 1: Jolly Old St. Nicholas

Joel takes Sarah to meet Santa and meets an overly friendly stranger in line. Chapter one of Holly Jolly, a modern no-outbreak AU TLOU fic.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None really!

Length: 2.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Next Chapter

Joel Miller had never been big on Christmas.

When he was a kid, it lost the magic pretty damn early. When your parents are just scraping by and are too proud to ask for help, the truth about Santa hits pretty young. From then on, it was just a constant reminder of what he didn’t have. Didn’t have parents who were willing to try to keep the magic alive for him and his brother, didn’t have a mother for his daughter, didn’t have a job that let him take time off to spend at home with her during the holidays.

This year, it was the fact that he didn’t have the money to pull off Christmas at all. At least, not that he could figure out.

“Daddy, look!” Sarah tugged on his fingers that were held tight in her sticky grip as they got in line, a sign that said “North Pole” over their heads. “Elves!”

“Yes, Baby Girl,” he smiled down at her even though he didn’t much feel like it. “Elves, they’re here to make sure you’re a good girl while we wait in line.”

“I’ll be good!” She said, first to him and then to a woman in peppermint striped leggings and a green felt dress. “I’ll be so good, I’ve been so good this year!”

“I bet you have been!” The woman smiled before going back to counting people in line, ending with Joel and Sarah. He checked is watch - the band barely hanging on by a thread and the cheap plastic of the face chipped - and let out a small sigh of relief. They’d just made it, the mall closing in half an hour and the Santa line cut off time coming even sooner.

“Wait!” There was a loud voice from behind him as the elf woman started roping off the line. He turned to see a woman who couldn’t be any older than him running toward the line, a girl about Sarah’s age on her hip. You all but skidded to a stop at the rope, the elf woman still holding the end of it. “Please, I’m so sorry, I got held up at work and it was just crazy tonight, can we still get in? We’ll be so quick, she’s so excited and I’ll buy the biggest photo package you have I promise.”

The elf looked around and then lifted the rope.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she smiled and gave the little girl a wink. “But only because you have been so good this year.”

The little girl gasped as you set her down.

“Aunt Cocoa, how did she know?”

“Because she’s an elf,” you said, taking her hand. “Of course she knows!”

Joel tried to not glare at you. You were wearing leggings that were covered in gingerbread men with a sweater that was the definition of an ugly Christmas sweater, green with tinsel and ornaments and lights hanging off it, a headband with antlers in your hair. He ground his teeth.

Of course, it wasn’t your fault that it was only a week and a half to Christmas and he’d gotten fuck all done. And it wasn’t your fault that the only emotional energy Joel had was going to go toward making sure his daughter had a good night, not placating some childish woman. But damn, it sure seemed like you’d been dropped in front of him just to annoy him, the personification of all the forced cheerfulness that came with the holiday season right where he didn’t want it to be.

“Aunt Cocoa!” The little girl by your side piped up. “Do you hear? It’s Rudolph!”

You turned an ear toward the ceiling and smiled.

“It IS Rudolph!” You said. “Now remind me, who is Rudolph again?”

“He’s a reindeer!” Sarah piped up from her place at Joel’s side. He almost groaned.

“Is he really?” You smiled down at her. “Who’s reindeer is he, do you think?”

“Santa’s!” Sarah and the little girl you were with said at the same time and their faces lit up before they dissolved into giggles.

“Hi!” Sarah smiled hugely, a gap where her front baby tooth had been just a few days earlier. “I’m Sarah!”

“I’m Sharon!” The girl with you smiled back, also missing a tooth. “I’m five, how old are you?”

“I’m five, too!” Sarah gaped at her, as though finding another child her age in line to see Santa was a miracle. “What school do you go to?”

And just like that, they were off, chattering away in rapid fire, high pitched, little kid speak. You smiled at Joel, almost absently smoothing Sharon’s hair down, more like a parent would do than an aunt.

“Hi,” you smiled at him as the kids babbled away to each other. Joel was pretty sure he heard the word Barbie from Sarah at the same time you gave your name.

He frowned.

“Thought your name was Cocoa.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Yeah, when Sharon was little - well, littler - I’d pick her up for girls’ day and the first stop was always Starbucks where I’d get a latte and she’d get a hot cocoa so I turned into Aunt Cocoa.”

“Right…” Joel moved forward in line.

“And what’s your name, Sarah’s… adult person?” You asked, smiling a little too broadly. There was glitter on your eyelids. Glitter.

“I’m her Dad,” Joel said. “And I’m Joel.”

“Good to meet you, Joel,” you just kept smiling.

He was silent for probably too long before he realized he should probably respond.

“You too.”

Your smile fell a little but was still there and Joel turned to face forward again, Sarah still happily chattering to Sharon.

The line, at least, was moving quickly and, as much as your syrupy tone and ridiculous outfit grated on him, Sarah’s patience for the line was far greater because Sharon was there for her to talk to.

“So,” you were still smiling. How could someone smile that fucking long? Didn’t your face hurt? “These two seem to be getting on like a house on fire.”

“Yup,” Joel said. The family in front of him stepped forward and Joel did, too.

“Want to exchange numbers?” You asked. Joel raised his eyebrows at you and you stammered quickly. “I mean… you know, to try to get them together? Get some of that holiday energy out?”

“If you want to give me her mom’s number,” Joel said, not especially wanting you to have his.

You glanced down quickly at Sharon but she was laughing at something. Sarah laughed, too.

“Well, I can’t…” you flinched a little. It was the first time he’d seen you not smiling like a maniac. “I’m kind of… Sharon lives with me?”

You said it more like a question than a statement.

“Right,” Joel said slowly.

“So we could just trade numbers,” you smiled again. “Maybe the girls can go to a playground or something over the weekend?”

The line moved again.

“Sure,” Joel sighed, getting his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He passed it to you and you took it, adding your number.

“Just going to text myself…” you said absently and then handed Joel’s phone back, the message still pulled up. You’d just typed “Santa Joel” with a little heart emoji after it. Joel was still looking at the screen when two messages from you showed up. One was a selfie - one you’d clearly taken another time, no glitter eyelids or antlers in sight - and the other just your name, followed by a heart emoji.

“Smile!” You said and he looked up from his phone to see you taking a picture of him. He frowned and your face fell a little bit. “You know, for the contact picture?”

“Right.”

He looked down at his phone again. When you weren’t dressed like Christmas had thrown up, you were… pretty. Really pretty. Beautiful, actually, with soft eyes and a gentle smile. You looked like the kind of person people just wanted to talk to. Just the kind of person Joel didn’t need in his life.

The line advanced and Joel moved up.

“Excited for Christmas?” You asked after the two of you had been silent for another few minutes and had moved forward more.

Joel glanced down, making sure Sarah was still distracted. Sharon had pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket and Sarah was looking over her shoulder, carefully reviewing the mass of stickers on the page.

“Sure,” Joel said, not about to say how he actually felt about it with Sarah this close by. He looked you up and down. “Looks like you’re ready for it.”

“Oh,” you laughed a little, looking down at the ridiculous sweater. “Yeah, I guess so! Anything you’re excited for?”

The line moved. Joel could see the leg of the tripod the camera was set up on now, at least.

“The food, I guess,” Joel said, even though that wasn’t really true, either. He usually got some cookie dough from the store so Sarah could decorate and Tommy had volunteered to host Christmas dinner that year but Joel was almost positive that it was going to be a damn disaster. His little brother could barely make mac and cheese, he didn’t see a full feast going well.

“So good, right?” You said. “I love…”

“Look,” Joel said, glancing down at the girls again. “Sure you… mean well and all but we’re getting close to the front of the line and I’d rather just stand here for the next five minutes, alright?”

“Oh,” your face fell a bit. “Right, I’m sorry, I… right. Sorry.”

You looked off to the side and Joel faced forward again.

He almost felt bad for it as they neared the front of the line, but then he heard you humming along with the stupid Christmas song playing on the speakers overhead and he stopped.

“OK!” The elf woman smiled down at Sarah. “Are you all ready to see Santa?”

“Yeah!” Sarah beamed up at her.

“Well that’s good, because you’re next!” She said, looking around the corner toward Santa. “Alright, looks like he’s already for you! Let’s go!”

She lifted the velvet rope and Joel nudged Sarah forward, her face lighting up when she saw the fat, bearded man on his throne. She ran over to him and clambered on his lap.

“I’ve been so good this year!” She said before Santa even got a chance to say hello. He laughed and helped her up.

“I’m sure you have been,” he said. “And what’s your name?

“Sarah!” She smiled her patchwork smile and Joel smiled, too. “I’m five, almost five and a half!”

“That half is very important,” Santa nodded sagely. “And what do you want for Christmas this year, Sarah?”

“A Barbie Dream House!” She said. “And a new Barbie and Ken to live there!”

Santa glanced up at Joel who was trying to not freak out. A fucking Barbie Dream House? That couldn’t be cheap. Money had been tight since he’d bought the house a few months earlier.

It was the worst house he could find in the best school district and he was still house poor as a result of the fucking thing. And, of course, after he closed one of his jobs fell through, so him and Sarah had gotten by on now maxed out credit cards for two months since buying the damn house had wiped out his savings.

He’d just gotten paid for the most recent job the day before, a sharp relief when he deposited the check. He’d been down to $17.87 in his checking account, happy that there’d been a sale on some canned shit a few weeks earlier so the pantry was at least somewhat stocked. How the fuck was he going to afford a Barbie Dream House?

Santa looked back at Sarah.

“We’ll just see what we can do about that,” Santa said kindly. “Do you think you can keep being a good girl for me?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Then I’m sure you’ll have a very happy Christmas,” he said. “Why don’t you look at that camera, we’ll take a picture together.”

Sarah sat up straight and smiled so big her eyes scrunched shut and the camera flashed. She jumped down and Sarah took his hand as they went to the booth to buy the pictures.

“He was so nice!” Sarah said. “And he smelled kind of like the apple pie we had on Thanksgiving and I think he knows that I’ve been real good, Dad.”

“He was nice,” Joel said, looking at the screen with the picture of Sarah on Santa’s lap and then the price list. “And I’m sure he knows how good you’ve been…”

How was it $25 for a print out of a picture and a frame made out of fucking card stock? The whole damn season was a racket.

“Just package A,” Joel said to the man dressed like an elf, pulling out his wallet and handing over his debit card.

“Do you think he can make a Dream House?” She asked, holding onto his fingers. “How do the elves make all those toys, anyway?”

“Well, they work real hard…”

“I’m sorry sir, but your card was declined,” the elf man held Joel’s debit card out to him. “Do you have another card?”

Joel’s chest got tight.

“Can you try it again?” He said.

“Already did,” the man said. “Twice more. It’s declined.”

“Just…” Joel pulled his phone out. “One sec.”

He opened his banking app and looked at his account. The check he’d deposited at the end of the day yesterday was there but still pending, funds not yet available. Fuck.

He only had two credit cards, both of them were maxed out. He opened his wallet, hoping he had a $10 bill he’d forgotten about, then he could do $10 cash and the other $15 on the card… and nothing. Joel took the card back and put it in his wallet.

“Do y’all keep the photos for a few days?” Joel asked. “I can come back tomorrow…”

You were suddenly there in the doorway, Sharon in front of you.

“No, I’m sorry sir,” the man said. “We wipe all the memory cards at the end of the day.”

Joel took a look at the screen, at Sarah’s giant smile, trying to remember it.

“Right,” Joel said, squeezing Sarah’s little hand. “Thanks, anyway.”

Sarah, at least, didn’t seem to even notice, even though Joel wasn’t sure the last time he felt so fucking low. He couldn’t even afford to buy his daughter’s Santa picture, how the fuck was he supposed to make Christmas happen? With a Barbie Dream House no less?

“Joel!” Your voice was loud behind him and he turned to see you running toward him, a plastic bag printed with holly and candy canes held out in front of you, Sharon trailing behind. He frowned as you stopped in front of him, panting for breath. “Sorry, I’ve done more running today than I have all year! Anyway, this is for you.”

You held the bag out and Joel’s frown deepened, taking it and looking inside. It was Sarah’s Santa picture in the stupid card stock frame and an ornament, the same picture encased in plastic.

“It was a great picture,�� you smiled. “You should have a copy.”

“I’m not lookin’ for charity.”

“Oh,” your face fell a little. “I wasn’t… It’s not… Just pay it forward when you can, OK? Merry Christmas.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond, just taking Sharon’s hand and walking away.

Next Chapter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #holly jolly

63 notes · View notes

goforth-ladymidnight · 2 months ago

Text

A Second Chance, Ch. 14

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @taymartiart @northern-polaris @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged.)

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Wordcount: 7.9k

Summary: Tamlin breaks some hearts (and no, I will not spoil it by saying whose), and Lucien and his brother learn more about their family's company audit

Read on AO3, or read here below the cut:

Click.

Tamlin lowered the camera with a sniff and tried to wiggle his numb nose. He’d been out in the cold for nearly an hour now, and he hadn’t seen anyone matching Vassa’s description, aside from the round, red-capped finches he was pretending to be so fascinated by.

He glanced over at the busy coffee cart on the other side of the park, with its jolly holly-green umbrella and bright red coffee cups. He sighed wistfully, and his breath was visible in the chilled air. Some hot coffee would be just the thing on a cold day like this. The sky promised more snow later, as if they didn’t already have enough.

As he trudged through the ankle-deep snow, he readjusted the strap of the camera bag bouncing uncomfortably against his frozen hip, and grumbled at himself for coming up with such a brilliant plan.

At least he had Lucien’s scarf to keep him from becoming a walking, talking snowman.

As he fell in line behind two young women, he lifted the scarf to his nose and gratefully breathed in the faint, orange-scented cologne. Now that his mouth and nose were beginning to thaw, he could start thinking clearly again.

He was doing this for Vassa, he reminded himself. Vassa was Lucien’s friend, and Jurian’s girlfriend, besides. No matter how much Jurian might try to deny it.

If the Scythian mafia was after her, no matter what their reasons were, it was reason enough to keep her out of their clutches. But was it worth the risk if it meant putting another redhead in harm’s way?

“Hi! Two peppermint lattes, please,” the young woman in front of him cheerily told the coffee cart attendant.

Tamlin glanced over the black chalkboard menu, at the options written in a curly white script. He usually got a black coffee, but would it be gay if he tried a peppermint latte for once?

He shook his head and scolded himself. So what if it was? Hadn’t he just had—as Lucien put it—hot gay sex, the night before?

Even the memory of it made him blush.

“What can I get you?” the attendant asked him.

Tamlin startled, then stepped forward. “Oh, yeah. Hi. Um… Two black coffees, please,” he said automatically, and was suddenly disappointed in himself. Why would anyone care about his order, anyway? He was the one drinking it, not them. When the attendant reached for two red coffee cups, Tamlin stopped him. “Actually, could you make them peppermint lattes, instead?” he asked shyly.

“Ooh, nice choice,” someone remarked.

He turned his head to see the same two young women standing nearby, sipping at their own peppermint drinks. They were dressed in blue and green puffy jackets and white leggings, complete with woolen legwarmers and stocking hats with fuzzy pom-poms on top. They made standing out in the cold look a lot more fun than it actually was.

“We don’t really see guys go for the so-called girly drinks,” her friend continued, and shrugged shyly. “It’s cute.”

“Well, you two inspired me,” he said, smiling. “It never hurts to try something new, right?”

“Right,” she said, while her friend nudged her. They both looked like they were trying very hard not to giggle. Had he said something funny?

“You’ll have to tell us what you think,” her friend said brightly, then gestured to the other and continued, “Cat usually goes for pumpkin spice, but it is almost Christmas, so…”

“‘Tis the season,” Tamlin agreed conversationally, as if they weren’t complete strangers. Still, it didn’t hurt to be friendly.

“Indeed,” she said with a smile.

As he returned her smile, he noticed that she had bright, teal blue eyes, and coppery red bangs peeking out beneath her stocking hat. If it weren’t for her freckles and pale skin, she could almost pass for Vassa…

“That’ll be ten,” the clerk said, bringing him back to the present.

“Oh, that much, huh?” Tamlin said with a shy laugh, and pulled out his wallet.

As he pulled out the correct number of bills, the redhead remarked, “They have some of the best coffee in town. It’s worth it, I promise.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said affably, then took the steaming cups in hand with a nod of thanks.

As he stepped aside to make way for the next customer, he tried to think of a tactful way to ask for her picture, but the talkative redhead didn’t give him the chance.

“So, what do you think?” she asked him.

“About what?”

She and her friend exchanged another one of their barely contained smiles. “Of the coffee?”

“Oh,” he said, and carefully managed a sip. As the warm brew slid down his throat, he licked his lips. “It’s uh… peppermint-y,” he remarked, unsure of how else to describe it. “But it’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” her companion—Cat—said, and took a sip herself.

The redhead glanced between them, looking thoughtful. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cat—with dark hair and equally bright blue eyes—nearly spat out her coffee. “Gwyn!” she chided, and smacked her arm.

The redhead—Gwyn—gave her an innocent shrug. “What? You were taking forever to ask him out, so…” She nodded at Tamlin, as if to say: I did you a favor; you can thank me later.

Tamlin’s lips twitched into a shy smile, and he found himself blushing. “Look, it’s not that I’m flattered, but…”

“You see?” Cat said quickly. “He has a girlfriend. I knew it. Can we go now, please?” Her cheeks were as pink as Tamlin’s felt, and not just from the cold.

“The thing is, I don’t have a girlfriend,” he tried to explain.

“Oh, you don’t?” Cat said, sounding somewhat hopeful.

Tamlin winced and sucked in a cold, sharp breath between his teeth. “I actually have a boyfriend. Sorry.”

Both girls groaned and exchanged sad, disappointed smiles.

“How come all the cute ones are gay?” Cat complained with a pouting lip, which only made Tamlin blush harder.

“Az isn’t gay,” Gwyn told her, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“Yeah, but he’s taken. By you.”

Gwyn turned to Tamlin with wide, hopeful eyes. “Do you have any brothers?”

Tamlin chuckled as Cat squawked in protest, and brushed a stray hair from his warm cheek with his wrist. “They’re married,” he said ruefully, but even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t wish them on anyone, straight or otherwise.

“Figures,” Cat muttered, then gave Tamlin a polite smile. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Anytime,” he said automatically, which made no sense, given the circumstances.

“Tam? Hey, Tam!” a familiar voice called out, and he turned in shock to see Lucien, of all people, trotting up to greet him.

“Lu?” Tamlin said with a surprised laugh. “What are you doing here?”

Lucien grinned, and his cheeks were flushed from jogging in the cold. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said, “I was just across the street and thought I’d get some coffee, and… well, here you are, getting coffee!”

“Yeah… Wow…” Tamlin shook his head in amazement, then noticed the two girls watching them. “Oh, yeah. Lu. Let me introduce you to… um…” His mind went blank.

“I’m Gwyn, and this is my sister, Cat,” Gwyn offered kindly, and Cat silently saluted them with her coffee cup.

“Nice to meet you,” Lucien said, and introduced himself.

“Hi,” Cat said politely, but it was clear she had no interest in chatting. Tamlin didn’t blame her.

Gwyn wasn’t quite ready to leave, though, since she turned to Tamlin and said, “I don’t think I caught your name, actually.”

“Oh, it’s Tam. Tamlin.”

“Tamlin,” she repeated with a smile. “That’s a nice name. I think I heard it in a song once.”

Before Tamlin could say that’s where his mom had gotten it from, Lucien interrupted and gestured to the three of them.

“I’m confused… how exactly do you all know each other?”

“We just met, actually,” Tamlin said, shrugging shyly with the coffee cups. It wasn’t much of an explanation, but what else could he say that wouldn’t embarrass anyone?

Luckily Gwyn was there to fill what could have been an awkward silence. “We got the same coffee order,” she said simply, then turned the question around on him. “What about you? How long have you two known each other?”

“Oh, Tam and I go way back,” Lucien said, giving him a small, secret wink.

That wink made Tamlin feel brave. “Actually, we just started dating,” he told the girls, smiling shyly. “And, actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

Lucien’s eyebrows rose at this public admission, but before he could say anything, Cat nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

“I told you,” she muttered. “Cute. Gay.”

Lucien chuckled at this. “Uh, thanks. I think.”

Gwyn suddenly pointed at him. “You said your name was Lucien, right?” When he affirmed that he had, and that he was, she grinned and said, “You’re Eris’s brother, aren’t you.”

Lucien’s head jerked back in surprise. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

“He comes by the theater all the time,” Gwyn said brightly. As an aside to Cat, she explained, “He’s the one dating Nesta.”

“Oh.” Cat rolled her eyes. “Yeah. See? That just proves my point. If he’s cute, he’s either gay, or taken.”

Tamlin and Lucien let out awkward chuckles.

“Yeah, it’s usually the opposite for me,” Lucien said quietly, then turned his attention to Gwyn. “So, uh, how did you know Eris was dating Nesta?”

“We’re part of the same dance company,” Gwyn said brightly. “The Valkyries?”

“Oh,” Lucien said with an impressed nod. “Sure, I’ve heard of them.”

Tamlin hadn’t, so he let them talk and took another sip of his peppermint latte. Even though he wasn’t sure he would ever order it again, he was glad he’d tried it. Best of all, he didn’t feel any more or less gay for having done so. It was just a drink, after all.

“We’re performing Swan Lake this season,” Gwyn went on. “You two should come by and see us. It’s not as popular as The Nutcracker this time of year, but…”

“Sounds great,” Lucien said quickly, before Tamlin could say anything about the show they’d missed.

“Great!” Gwyn agreed. “Well, if you ever want to swing by, just tell the Ticket Office that Gwyn—and Cat—Berdara sent you,” she said, gesturing to her sister. “—and they’ll give you the Friends and Family discount.”

“Oh my god, please kill me now,” Cat muttered, covering her face with her free hand.

Lucien ignored her, or at least he pretended to. “Berdara,” he repeated, and Gwyn nodded, beaming. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Cat tugged on Gwyn’s elbow before she could say more. “Come along, now, Gwyneth,” she said brightly, though her next sentence was said through gritted teeth. “Before I murder you.”

“What did I do?” Gwyn whined as her sister led her away, and Tamlin and Lucien chuckled.

“Well, that was an interesting conversation,” Lucien remarked, giving Tamlin an amused smile. “Let me guess, one of them tried to ask you out?”

Tamlin blushed. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Lucien brushed a stray hair from his face. “But honestly, I’m not surprised. What woman wouldn’t want to take a bite out of a studmuffin like you?” He winked.

Tamlin blushed harder and breathed a laugh, then his smile faded. You must be beating off the girls with a stick, the dean once told him. He sighed, and it clouded the air. Would the nightmare of Amarantha ever stop haunting him?

“Hey,” Lucien said, tilting his head to catch his eye. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tamlin said, shaking off the wisps of memory like fallen snow on his hair. “Just tired. I didn’t get that much sleep last night, as you well know.”

A slow smile grew on Lucien’s face, and his warm brown eyes sparkled. “I’d apologize, but I’m not that sorry,” he teased, then nodded at the cups in Tamlin’s hands. “Besides, that’s what coffee’s for.”

“Oh, right.” He’d almost forgotten about his order.

As Tamlin took a sip, Lucien asked, “So, what did you get?”

Tamlin swallowed. “Peppermint lattes,” he said with a shy smile, then held out the other cup. “You want one?”

“Oh… Sure,” Lucien said, accepting it with some surprise. “Who was it for?”

“Jurian, but I’m not sure he’d like it. He takes his coffee blacker than black, so…”

“So does Alex,” Lucien agreed, then lifted the bright red cup for a sip. “Mmm. It’s good. I prefer pumpkin spice myself, but… It’s good.” He licked the foam from his lips and smiled. “Thanks.”

The sight warmed Tamlin more than the coffee had, and he smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

Lucien gestured to the coffee line. “Do you mind keeping me company while I get something for Alex? Or do you need to get back to work?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Tamlin said, waving dismissively with his now free hand. “Work can wait.”

“What kind of errand were you running anyway?” Lucien asked as they joined the back of the line. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Errand?”

“Yeah. Jurian said you were running an errand for him, so…”

“Oh.” Tamlin blinked, and thought quickly. “Uh… Coffee run,” he lied, smiling nervously all the while.

“Huh, okay,” Lucien said with an understanding smile, then slipped his gloved hand in Tamlin’s. “Is this okay?”

Tamlin glanced down at their joined hands, then gently squeezed. “It’s more than okay.”

Lucien smiled, and squeezed back. “Okay. Good.”

As the line moved forward, Tamlin thought back on his conversation with Jurian. He still felt like he was Bi instead of Gay, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Even though those two girls were clearly interested, he hadn’t tried to pretend he had a girlfriend instead. It hadn't occurred to him to try. Lucien was his boyfriend, and that’s all there was to it. So what if he had missed out on his chance to take Gwyn’s picture? He and Jurian would have to come up with something else to distract Koschei, which made him wonder…

“When did you see Jurian, anyway?” Tamlin asked.

“Oh, about ten minutes ago,” Lucien said, lifting his cup for another sip. “Alex is talking with him now. I wanted to give them some privacy.”

“Because of his wife?”

Lucien winced. “Yeah.”

Tamlin sighed. “Was I wrong to suggest that? For him to see Jurian, I mean.”

“Of course not,” Lucien assured him. “It’s better that he finds out sooner rather than later, especially before they start having kids.”

“Yikes.”

“You’re telling me.”

They moved forward another place in line.

“So, what’s with the camera bag?” Lucien asked, nudging him gently.

“Birdwatching,” Tamlin said automatically.

Lucien gave him a bemused smile. “Birdwatching,” he repeated. “I didn’t know you were into that… Did you see any good ones?”

“Not really,” Tamlin said dismissively. “It’s mostly just sparrows, and finches this time of year…” He gestured with his cup. “Hence, the coffee.”

“Huh,” Lucien said, then he shrugged. “Maybe you can take me birdwatching in the spring,” he offered. “Then you can show me all the good ones.”

“If you like,” Tamlin remarked, surprised. “It’s really not that interesting.”

Lucien’s head jerked back. “Then why do it?”

Realizing he had been caught in a lie, Tamlin’s face flushed. “I do it for Jurian’s sake,” he said quickly. “He’s the one with the checklist, and I’m the one with the camera, so…”

“Oh.” Lucien nodded thoughtfully, then he smiled. “We’ll find something to do that we both like, then.”

“Sure,” Tamlin agreed, relieved.

After Lucien had ordered two black coffees—for Alex and Jurian, he said—they turned back for the office. With their hands full, they couldn’t hold onto each other anymore, but they did match each other’s leisurely stride as they strolled through the park.

“I’m really glad I got to see you,” Lucien said, smiling warmly. “You were in such a hurry this morning, I didn’t get the chance to give you a proper goodbye.”

Tamlin couldn’t help his blush. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It worked out better this way. Alex and Jurian get their time to talk, and now so do we.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin murmured, then took a deep breath. “So, where are you going after this? Back to work?”

“Nah,” Lucien said dismissively. “I’m taking the day off. Alex and I are going to lunch, though. I’m taking him to Annie’s, actually. You want to come along?”

“Oh.” Tamlin blinked in surprise. “I, uh, sure. I have to clear it with Jurian first, but…”

“There you are,” an annoyed voice said.

Tamlin and Lucien looked up to see Alex standing with Jurian in the parking lot.

Alex pushed himself away from the expensive-looking car he’d been leaning against. “I thought you got abducted, or something,” he told Lucien chidingly.

Lucien only rolled his eyes. “Will you relax,” he drawled, then held out the extra coffee cup. “I got you a black, two sugars.”

“Oh… Thanks,” Alex muttered, and begrudgingly accepted the peace offering.

Tamlin broke the awkward silence by offering Jurian the extra coffee he’d been carrying. “Dark roast,” he said. “No sugar.”

“Thanks, Tam,” Jurian said, accepting it gratefully. He’d been standing with Alex in his shirt sleeves; he probably hadn’t anticipated having to wait outside this long.

Not wanting to make the situation more awkward by apologizing, Tamlin took another sip. As did they all.

“So,” Jurian announced loudly, when they’d all drunk. “Tam. We have a new client. Who I’m sure you’ve already met.”

“Yeah,” Tam said, nodding at Alex. “Hi, again.”

“Hey,” Alex murmured, then sighed. “Look. I’m sorry…”

Tamlin waved him off. “No, it’s, uh… It’s okay… I didn’t realize you were out here waiting, so…”

“That was my fault, anyway,” Lucien interjected. “I ran into Tam across the street, and we got to talking…”

“Yeah,” Alex said quietly, then sighed again. “Well, Lucien and I should probably get going, so…” He stuck out his hand to Jurian, who shook it. “Thanks, again.”

“Sure,” Jurian said kindly. “I’ll be in touch.”

Alex nodded, then stuffed his hand into his pocket. “Keys.”

“Oh, right,” Lucien said quickly, and shoved his hand inside his own coat pocket.

While he dug, Alex turned his attention to Tamlin next. “In case I don’t see you for a while, good luck… with everything. I hope you get the help you need.”

Tamlin’s head jerked back in surprise. “Help?” he repeated. “Why would I need help?”

“Ah-ha-ha,” Lucien said quickly, and shoved the found keys at his brother. “Here you go,” he said in a sing-song voice that sounded a lot like Shut up now.

Alex fumbled with the keys and his coffee. “Hey—What? What are you doing?”

“Lunch. Car. Now,” Lucien said quickly, trying to herd him toward the driver’s side door.

Alex stepped back and looked at him askance, however. “You didn’t tell him, did you.”

“Tell me what?” Tamlin asked, looking between them.

Even though Lucien tried to shush him, Alex said, “About Eris? Taking on your case?”

Tamlin’s bemused smile faded. “What case?” he asked, looking to Lucien.

His boyfriend grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking fuck,” he muttered, then took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I was sure…”

“Sure?” Tamlin echoed. “About what? What is he talking about?” His heart started to sink without quite knowing why.

Lucien took a moment to swallow. “Eris is a lawyer, you know? One of the best. Anyway, I… I sort of asked him to look into what happened to you… You know, seven years ago.”

Tamlin fell back a step, stunned. “You told him?”

Lucien spread his hands wide, at least, the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee. “I just wanted to know if there was a way for you to get your life back… To win a-a settlement, or something—”

“A settlement?” Tamlin echoed. His voice sounded hollow and far away. “You mean going to court? Against that witch? Are you fucking serious?”

Lucien flinched and turned pale. “Tam, I just wanted to help—”

“No. No,” Tamlin said, backing away. The awful memories came back in a rush. “I am not going through that again. You can’t make me.”

“Tam—”

Jurian stepped in. “I think you need to leave,” he told Lucien coolly. When he got like this, it was easy to imagine him in an official uniform and wielding a baton.

Lucien faltered, and tried to skirt around him to catch Tamlin’s eye. “But… But I—”

“Now.”

“Come on, Lu,” Alex said quietly. “We should go.”

Tamlin couldn’t look at them. Any of them. The pancakes he had made that morning threatened to make a reappearance, and he pressed a hand to his mouth.

Lucien sounded broken. “Tam, I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Jurian remained unmoved, however. “If he wants to talk, he’ll call you,” he said firmly, then over his shoulder, he told Tamlin quietly, “I’ll meet you inside.”

Tamlin managed a nod, then opened the door to the building without looking back. He made it just inside the lobby before he started shaking.

Not a minute later, Jurian followed, sans coffee cup, and pulled Tamlin into his arms and let him break down and cry like the frightened child he was.

* * *

“Look, I said I was sorry.”

Lucien glared out the passenger window as hot tears continued to roll down his cheeks. “That doesn’t bring back my boyfriend now, does it?” he said tightly.

Alex sighed as he made a turn down a residential lane. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told him,” he said sorrowfully. “I didn’t know he’d take it so hard. Besides, you were just trying to help—”

Lucien scoffed. “Obviously it didn’t work,” he muttered, and sniffed as he swiped at his wet cheeks. “And now I’m never going to see him again.”

“You don’t know that,” Alex chided. “Give it time, I’m sure he’ll come around—”

“Yeah, in seven more years,” Lucien said mournfully, watching a line of festively decorated houses roll by. “We were going to spend Christmas together.” His chin began to quiver. “And New Year’s.”

“Come on, Lu,” Alex whined. “Don’t do this. You’re supposed to be the one comforting me, remember? I might be getting a divorce. You’re not even married.”

Lucien buried his face in his hands.

“Yet,” Alex added hastily. “You’re not married yet. You never know. This might be a funny story you tell at your wedding someday.”

“Fat chance of that,” Lucien muttered, but he lowered his hands and managed a sniff. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Mom’s house, remember?”

Lucien groaned.

“Oh, no. Don’t give me that,” Alex warned, turning onto a familiar street. “You’re the one who kept suggesting I come here,” he said, then pulled into the driveway of an old-fashioned, two-story house. “Now, we’re here.”

“You could have warned me,” Lucien complained. “I thought we were going to lunch or something first.”

Alex sighed and turned off the car. “I didn’t think you’d be hungry.”

As his brother dug his duffel bag out of the trunk, Lucien stood back and left the shopping bags where they were. Violin strings and rosin. For Tamlin.

Fresh tears filled his eyes, and he forced himself to look away. Would he ever be able to give them to him? Would Tamlin even accept them? Or would he have to live with the fact that he’d broken Tamlin’s trust in him forever?

“Alex?” Their mother’s voice drifted toward them from the covered porch. “What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

Alex smiled at her and closed the trunk. “Hey, Ma,” he called back. “I thought it was about time we came to visit.”

She gasped audibly at the sight of both of them. “Oh, Lucien, my baby!” she called out happily, then trotted down the steps to meet them.

The former Mrs. Vanserra was a pleasantly plump woman with long auburn hair she wore in a chignon. When she wrapped her arms around her two boys, she smelled like cinnamon, chestnuts, and warm apple pie.

“Mm, it’s so good to see you,” she gushed, giving them both a squeeze. As she pulled away, she looked between the two of them. “Where’s, um, Ianthe?” she asked politely.

Their mother didn’t like Alex’s wife any more than the rest of them, but she at least tried to make an effort.

“It’s a long story,” Alex said with a grim smile.

“Oh,” she said, then noticed the bag in his hand. “Oh, I see,” she said with a wince, then turned to Lucien. “How about you, sweetheart? Are you…?” She trailed off when she noticed Lucien’s red eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. “Oh, dear.”

Lucien didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d found a boyfriend and lost him all in the same week, but his mother probably already knew that. She knew a lot of things.

“Well, come inside, both of you,” she said brightly, giving her sweatered arms a brisk rub. “I just made some gingerbread cookies.”

As she turned her back to lead them into the house, Lucien gave Alex a knowing look. “Told you,” he mouthed.

Alex gave him a resigned shrug, then followed after their mother, and Lucien shoved his hands inside his coat pockets and trailed along behind.

His childhood home looked and smelled much the way it had when he was growing up, like warm bread and furniture polish. It wasn’t exactly the same, of course, since it had been sold the same year his grandfather died, when Lucien was about eight years old. The Autumn Corporation had been willed and given to the former owner’s three daughters, but his only son-in-law was named the new owner and CEO: Beron Vanserra.

The Vanserra family had led a comfortable life before, but suddenly the modest, red-brick home was too small for such a wealthy business executive, so Beron sold the house and moved them all into the heart of the city.

Lucien had really liked it at first. He finally had his own room, they went to plays and the ballet, and he could get whatever he wanted for Christmas and birthdays… But his mother no longer sang as much, and she baked—and ate—a lot more than she used to. Looking back on it, Lucien knew that his father blamed her weight gain as the reason he started sleeping around, but that wasn’t really true. Beron liked being important. He liked the attention.

Just not the sort of attention having a gay son gave him.

And Lucien despised him for it.

It wasn’t until years later, when all the boys were grown, that Beron’s ego was finally taken down a peg. Once Eris had his law degree, he helped their mother get a legal separation from her husband, and a proper settlement besides. He helped her buy back the house that she had so dearly loved. He had helped her get her name back. She was no longer the nameless wife of the CEO, Mrs. Beron Vanserra; she was once again Laura Autumn, baker extraordinaire, and mother of seven, in that order. She was finally herself again.

Lucien would always be grateful to Eris for taking that kind of risk. Beron nearly fired him when he found out, but he reconsidered once he realized that Eris could end up working for his competition. So he kept Eris close. He kept all of his boys close, even Lucien. Not in a familial way, of course, but at least the job paid well. And it came with a nice expense account… When he was allowed to use it, anyway.

While Alex took his bag into the living room, their mother bustled around the kitchen. The radio was playing a soft version of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. The still-hot oven filled the tiled kitchen with warmth and the smell of cinnamon. Rows of gingerbread cookies were moved from cooling racks and onto decorative platters for icing later.

Watching her, Lucien felt like a little kid again. After a long day of school, he’d come home out of the cold and kick off his shoes and drop off his backpack by the door, then clamber up onto the stool and let his socked feet dangle while his mom puttered around the kitchen. She would listen to him complain about math or how the mean kids had made fun of his lisp again, then she’d let him lick the stirring spoon, or give him a fresh cookie with a glass of milk to help him feel all better. It always helped.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the sort of problem that even homemade cookies could solve.

He let out a sigh and shrugged out of his coat, then draped it over the back of the barstool before sitting down at the counter. Just like he used to do when he was little, he hunched over and rested his chin on his fists. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, hon?”

Lucien sighed again. “Have you ever made a huge mistake?”

She smiled to herself as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh, lots of times.”

He quirked his mouth to one side. “Did you ever make one so big it ruined your whole life?”

Her warm brown eyes twinkled with amusement as she met his gaze. “Nothing that dramatic, I assure you.”

“What did you do?”

Her smile faded and grew thoughtful. “Well, I married a man far too old for me, but… I was eighteen, I was in love, and I thought I knew better.” She sighed as she untied her apron strings and went on, “Now, I do know better, but the knowledge came with more wrinkles and more stretch marks than I’d care to admit.” She pointed at Lucien as she went to hang up her apron on its wooden peg. “But I want you to know that I don’t regret having a single one of you boys… I love you all to bits, even if you do turn my hair gray sometimes.”

Lucien huffed a laugh, even though it hurt a little. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” she said, giving him the same smirk that he and his brothers shared. She gestured to his own auburn strands. “You’ll get your own gray hairs soon enough. I can promise you that.”

Lucien wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “Probably a lot sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex walked into the kitchen, dusting off his hands. “Hey, Ma,” he said. “Did you get rid of the old couch?”

“Yes, I decided a loveseat was a better fit for the space.”

Alex looked truly taken aback. “When was this?”

“Oh, about three months ago,” she mused, moving some dirty dishes to the sink. “If you came to visit more often, I’m sure you would have noticed.”

Lucien and Alex exchanged a guilty wince. It had been a while.

At their silence, their mother quirked her mouth to one side and placed a hand on her hip. Tapping her elegant fingernails against the countertop, she said, “All right. Who’s first.”

They startled.

“First for what?”

“What do you mean?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m lucky if I see one of you boys once a month, and now two of you are here on the same day?” She gestured between them. “There is something going on, and you are going to tell me. Now. Who’s first?”

Lucien took a deep breath, but Alex spoke first.

“I’ll go.”

“No, I’ll go,” Lucien insisted. “It won’t really make sense unless I start from the beginning.”

“How far back are we talking?”

Lucien swallowed. “About seven years.”

* * *

Tamlin glanced up from his seat at the desk as Jurian walked through the office door, bearing a takeout bag with Annie’s logo on it.

“Hey,” Jurian said kindly, setting it on the one clean spot on the desk. “I’ve got Corned Beef on Rye, and Annie’s famous apple pie,” he offered, shrugging off his coat. “Oh, and Alis said to tell you Hello.”

Tamlin swallowed, but he still had no appetite. “Thanks,” he said quietly, then returned his attention to the piles of papers he’d been sorting. He’d needed to file them for a while now, and now was the perfect time to take his mind off of… well, everything else.

Jurian sighed, then closed the door to hang up his coat. “So, any calls?”

“No.”

“Any calls from him?”

Tamlin shook his head this time. “No.”

Jurian considered this, then gently lowered himself into the empty seat across the desk. “You want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

“Not really.”

“Okay,” Jurian said, sitting back in his chair. He took a deep breath and twiddled his thumbs. “What about that assignment I gave you before. Any luck?”

Tamlin sighed, and ran his thumb over the papers’ stapled edge. “I couldn’t do it,” he said quietly. “There was someone there, in the park, who looked like Vassa, and I couldn’t do it.”

Jurian lowered the chair to the floor. “There’s no shame in that,” he said gently. He seemed to be considering his words carefully. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be doing this, anymore.”

That got Tamlin’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Jurian took a deep breath. “I made some calls today,” he said slowly. “There’s a Scythian embassy in the northeast part of the country. It’s going to take some time, but… the guy I spoke to on the phone, he’s interested in working with us… He wants to know more about Mr. Koschei.”

Tamlin’s brows rose in shock. “What about Vassa?”

Jurian shrugged. “Any information we can give him, he’ll take, but I don’t think we have to give Koschei anything else.”

Tamlin let out a sudden breath. It was the best news he’d heard all day. “So we’re free? Just like that?”

Jurian chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said wryly, “but essentially, yeah.”

“No photos?”

“No headshots. No nothing,” Jurian finished, smiling tightly. He shrugged again. “I thought you could use some good news, after today.”

Tamlin’s smile faded. “Yeah,” he murmured, and dropped his gaze. “Thanks.”

“Of course, this means we won’t be getting a new couch,” Jurian remarked. “So, if you’re okay with that…”

Tamlin’s heart twinged, as did his neck. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Jurian sighed and shook his head. “You don’t have to lie, you know. You can say it fucking sucks, because it does. It really does.”

Tamlin breathed a laugh, but it was a sad laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

* * *

The kitchen was almost peaceful as Lucien sat at the table with his mother and his brother, drinking hot tea and nibbling on fresh gingerbread as they looked out at the snowy backyard. Twittering birds flitted from birdfeeder to birdfeeder, fattening themselves up on nuts and seeds before perching on the same snow-covered swingset that he and his six brothers had played on all those years ago. It would have made the perfect Christmas card… if Lucien had not just finished telling his mother the story of what had happened to Tamlin all those years ago.

Crack.

Lucien winced as yet another walnut shell shattered under his mother’s forceful nutcracking.

Shells littered the table like shrapnel, but she didn’t seem to notice as she dropped the kernel into a separate bowl and reached for yet another walnut.

“If that devil woman ever dared to lay a finger on one of my babies—” She put the nut between the jaws of her metal pliers. Crack. “—She’d be marking the days on her jail cell wall with chalk held between her toes.”

“Ma,” Alex said cautiously from the other end of the table. “Don’t get so worked up. You’ll give yourself a heart attack, or—or arthritis, or something.”

She glared and reached for another nut. “Don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine.” Crack.

Alex sighed and shook his head, and Lucien sighed, too.

As he crumbled gingerbread crumbs between his fingers, he asked her, “So you don’t think I was wrong to ask Eris for help?”

Crack.

Their mother huffed. “No,” she said quietly, reaching for yet another nut. “But, really, you shouldn’t have kept it a secret from your boyfriend. If you had told him what you wanted to do from the beginning, he might have been upset, but I think he would have come around. Eventually.” Crack.

Lucien leaned forward. “See, that’s what I wanted to do, but if Eris didn’t think he had a case, I didn’t want to risk upsetting him.” He glared at his brother. “Then Alex had to go and open his big fat mouth.”

“Hey!” Alex squawked. “Don’t pin this on me,” he said, pointing. “You’re the one who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.”

“Me? You’re the one who kept pestering me with so many questions.”

“That’s because you never tell me anything.”

“For good reason!”

“Boys,” their mother warned.

The two of them sat back andcrossed their arms and mumbled an apology.

“Sorry, Ma.”

“Sorry.”

Their mother drew a deep breath, then set the nutcracker aside. As she wiped off her hands with a clean dishtowel, she declared, “It was an unfortunate accident. What’s done is done. The only thing you can do now is… well, wait for him to come around.”

Lucien sighed again, and shoved his plate aside to slump forward and rest his folded arms on the table. “What if he doesn’t? What if I never see him again?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby. But that’s up to him.”

“It could be worse,” Alex offered. “He could be cheating on you and giving you the silent treatment at the same time.”

“Is that what happened to you, sweetheart?” their mother asked gently.

“Yeah,” Alex mumbled, glumly swirling his mug of tea. “Well, maybe. I know Ianthe is pissed at—sorry, Ma—I mean, mad about me staying late at the office, but that’s not my fault. Dad’s been hounding me over the numbers for this stupid audit.”

“Oh, has that started already?”

“Not yet, but—” Alex sat up. “Wait. How do you know about the audit?”

“Because I called and asked someone to look into it.”

Alex gawked at her. “You mean you called the press?”

“They weren’t my first call,” she remarked, reaching for her tea, “but, yes, I did.”

“You, wha—Were you going to tell us this?”

She smiled sweetly. “If I did that, then that would ruin all the fun, now, wouldn’t it.”

“Fun?” Alex echoed.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, still smiling, and took a sip of tea.

Lucien sat up, stunned. “Why an audit? Why now?” he asked her.

She rested her elbows on the table as she cradled her mug, looking thoughtful. “That’s a good question,” she mused. “I suppose I decided to do it this way when your father’s picture appeared in the paper last month. You know, at the city’s annual charity dinner?”

“Sure,” Alex said, but he looked as confused as Lucien felt.

“I didn’t go,” Lucien said with a shrug.

“Neither did I, but do you know how much your father paid for a plate at this particular dinner?”

“No.”

“But I can guess,” Alex offered.

She didn’t give him the chance. “It was more than he gives me in a month.”

Lucien’s mouth fell open. “What?!”

“No way,” Alex declared, leaning forward. “I’ve seen the books. You should have gotten a lot more than that…”

She smiled a tight smile. “I know.”

Lucien and Alex exchanged worried glances.

When neither of them spoke, she assured them, “Don’t worry. I have plenty of savings. I’m perfectly all right.” She shifted in her seat, then went on, “But, per the terms of our separation agreement, Beron agreed to pay me a generous monthly stipend. He would never agree to divorce me, because my father wrote that into his will. If Beron left me, for any reason, he would get nothing. Unfortunately, the same was true for me.”

She smiled sadly and ran a thumb over the handle of her mug. “My father wanted me and my sisters to have some security,” she said softly. “After my mother died, he was never the same. He knew I was making a mistake by choosing Beron, but… he wanted me to be happy. And at the time, I was.”

She sighed and shook her head, then continued, “I first noticed my stipend decreasing this past summer. Beron said sales were down, and I chose to believe him. Every company has its ups and downs. I know that. Besides, Eris made sure I was comfortable.” She paused to take another sip. “But then, last month, my stipend was almost half of what it was. The holidays are the busy season. They always have been,” she said firmly, then smiled a cool, calculating smile. “So, if sales are truly down, then an audit is the least of Beron’s worries, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucien huffed an amazed laugh. “Damn,” he said appreciatively, then winced. “Ooh, sorry Mom.”

She chuckled as she lifted her mug. “That’s all right, baby. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Alex rested his chin in his hand. He suddenly looked very tired. “I wish you had told me,” he complained. “Then maybe Ianthe wouldn’t be giving me such a hard time right now.”

Their mother gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you can always call her. Provided that she doesn’t tell Beron about the audit. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you both to keep this a secret from your father, too.”

“I thought secrets were a bad thing,” Lucien pointed out, even though he had no intention of telling his father anything.

She gave him a wincing smile. “I know. But I just don’t want to give Beron the chance to retaliate. He would burn the Autumn Corporation to the ground before giving up control, especially to one of you boys.”

“Can we tell Eris, at least?”

“I’ll tell him myself,” she promised. “But only after the audit starts. Then Beron will have no reason to suspect he was involved.”

Lucien sat up with a start. “Hey, Mom, did you ever do any research, or hire a private investigator before you got started, or…?”

She looked surprised, but shook her head. “No. This was all my idea. That’s why I don’t want your father to know.”

“So, Tamlin wasn’t involved at all?”

“Did you think he was?”

Lucien felt a relieved smile grow on his face. “Eris thought he might be, because he works for a private eye, but…” He breathed a laugh. “He’s not, is he?”

She shook her head. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

Lucien grinned, then pushed himself away from the table. “I need to go see him. Can I tell Tam about the audit? I promise he won’t tell—”

“Lucien.”

He paused at his mother’s firm tone.

She took a deep breath. “Does your boyfriend know that you suspected him of being involved?”

His hopeful smile faded. “No.”

She gave him a sad smile in turn. “Then you shouldn’t tell him. He needs time to be alone. Just give him that. Can you do that, for me?”

Lucien sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“I know this is hard,” she said gently, “but it’s for the best.”

She pushed herself away from the table to take the bowl of nuts over to the counter. As she began cleaning up, she offered, “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I have some pasta in the fridge, or there’sthat charming little pizzeria we used to go to when you were little. How does that sound? I’m sure they still deliver.”

He managed a smile. “Sure. Thanks, Mom,” he said quietly.

The pizza was as good as he remembered, but he still didn’t have much of an appetite. When dinner was over, he asked Alex to take him back to his apartment. He agreed without arguing, for once.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” his mother asked as he and Alex put on their coats. “You’re welcome to spend the night, you know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lucien assured her, buttoning up his coat. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed, anyway. It’s been a long day.”

She sighed. “I understand,” she said kindly, and rubbed his arm. “Call me when you hear something, all right?” When he said he would, she pressed a bag of cookies into his hand. “And here’s something for when you get home.”

He chuckled, and accepted the cookies, and his mother’s hug. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, bending his head to kiss her cheek.

Snow was just starting to fall when Alex’s car pulled up under the awning of Lucien’s apartment. Alex kept the car running while Lucien retrieved his bags from the trunk. Before he could go inside, though, Alex rolled down the passenger side window and called him over.

“Hey, Lu?”

Lucien trudged over and leaned in. “Yeah?”

Alex gave him a tight smile. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

Lucien nodded, even though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, okay. Be safe out there.”

“I will.” Alex tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “Listen. I’m sorry again, about your boyfriend…”

Lucien shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Mom’s right. I just need to wait it out.”

Alex sighed. “Yeah. Well, if you ever need to talk…”

“I’ll let you know,” Lucien agreed, nodding. “See you at work tomorrow?”

Alex sucked in a sharp breath and winced. “Probably not. I think I need to avoid Dad for a little while. You know how shit I am at keeping secrets.”

Lucien snorted. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Alex smirked. “Hey, at least I wasn’t the one who told you Santa Claus wasn’t real.”

“Wow. Anything else you want to say to ruin my day?”

Alex chuckled and made to put the car into gear. “See ya, Lulu.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Alex was still laughing when he rolled up his window and drove off into the snowy twilight.

Lucien shook his head and smiled, but it had faded by the time he made it up to his floor. It was a lonely walk back to his apartment, and it was going to be even lonelier when he went inside. As he unlocked the door, he thought about having a glass of wine, and maybe watching a movie to unwind.

As he remembered the movie he and Tamlin had ‘watched’ the night before, he decided to havetwo glasses of wine. He’d have one hell of a hangover the next day, but at least it would give him an excuse to call off work. Then he wouldn’t have to face Eris, or their father… or the memories.

He sighed as he dropped his keys onto the little table by the door, then set his bags underneath. As he straightened to unbutton his coat, he paused. He hadn’t had any wine yet, so why was he seeing double? There were two sets of keys on the table, and the fireplace was lit, which could only mean…

“Hey, Lu.”

He gasped, and his heart leapt to his throat as Tamlin pushed himself out of one the easy chairs in front of the fire.

Tamlin managed a tight smile as he slowly wrung his hands. “Can we talk?”

#an unofficial part 2 to the previous chapter #get ready for some serious angst #and some fluff #because it is almost christmas #in the story i mean #my writing #my fanfic #acotar fanfic #tamlin x lucien #tamcien #modern au

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theluckywizard · 3 months ago

Text

Kiss Me Moonstruck, Ch. 3: Curiosity

Gif by @okhotshots

Chapter Summary: With Garrett Hawke off dealing with some kind of street fight and the mothers busy catching up on a few decades of gossip, Rose decides to acquaint herself with the Hawke Estate. A little snooping never hurt anyone.

Fic Summary: Smashed together in a matchmaking scheme cooked up by their enterprising mothers, Garrett Hawke and Rose Trevelyan are forced to endure one another for a whole week over Satinalia at the Hawke Estate. Rose hears he’s a swashbuckling treasure hunter, as wild as he is handsome and as ill-bred as he is rich. Garrett suspects she’s a brat of an ingenue with a string of rejected marriage proposals behind her. Determined to prove to the other that they could not be less compatible, they quickly find their mothers’ plot might be working better than they thought.

Excerpt under the cut 👇

Rose stands abruptly, tired of waiting at the fringes of this conversation for something that actually interests her and declares that she’d like to stretch her legs after such a long carriage ride.

“Of course! Please. Our home is yours,” says Leandra. “Bodahn and Orana will be about if you need anything.”

Alsatia eyes her daughter with the barest hint of suspicion which Rose blithely ignores, slipping out of the drawing room. Rose doesn’t suppose that Leandra actually meant she could have free reign of the place, but it would be easy enough to beg forgiveness and her mother assures her that there are few people as accommodating as their hostess.

The home is quiet save for the snapping of the enormous fire in the grand foyer, the muffled chatter that continues behind her and the soft snuffling of the family’s Mabari who lifts his head in interest as she descends the stairs. Rose relishes in her soundless footsteps, honed in hunting lessons with the gamekeeper and nights spent sneaking around and out of her family’s estate in Fenwick. She holds an impish finger to her lips as she passes the great hunk of canine muscle watching from his spot by the fire and enters the vestibule.

One side of the room is essentially an armory. Rose wonders why a man ‘richer than the Maker’ would have so many battered, sad-looking shields and chipped swords, but they hang in an imposing row along the wall. Perhaps they are trophies. Or memories. How many people have been cut down by those blades? The number begins small and then inflates rapidly as her imagination takes wing. But the man had seemed so unpretentious and affable after tripping his way through their introduction. It doesn’t seem to square with all this weaponry, but it must. Somehow.

Closer to the foyer is a number of armor stands with sets of lightweight leather armor and splintmail. She pleases herself identifying the various components, knowledge she’d gleaned sifting through pages on the floor of her father’s library rather than any real experience. In a closet beyond is an extra hauberk and an assortment of gambesons and maintenance tools and equipment. Awls and oil. Garrett’s finery from earlier hangs on a hook. Feeling venturesome and more than a little nosy, Rose leans in to get a whiff of this man she’s meant to like enough to marry.

Peppermint, obviously. Camphor. Herbs she can’t quite distinguish. Elfroot probably. Rashvine and spindleweed perhaps. And buried beneath those is the indescribable scent of what she assumes must be him. It's unexpectedly cozy, like hints of a busy kitchen at dawn. Rose startles at a sudden contact between her thighs, stumbling back from her insolent task to discover Garrett Hawke’s Mabari has an equally insolent interest in her.

She shoves him back gingerly and with placating tones, unsure if a war dog would be friendly toward an interloper like herself. He’s three times the size and heft of any of her hunting hounds, and his undocked tail lashes and whips with enthusiasm when she scratches behind his ears.

“Well aren’t you persistent,” she mutters, attending to the short fur of his broad white chest. She carefully avoids the precarious string of slobber that dangles from his maw and returns to the foyer hoping the creature will settle down by the fire again. He doesn’t. Enthralled by the attention, he stays at her heels, following her over to an apparent writing desk.

Read the rest here! Start the fic here!

DAFF Crew 💖

@about2dance | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @blarrghe | @delicatefade | @leggywillow

@ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @agentkatie | @oxygenforthewicked

@breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @plisuu | @hekaerges

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren

#Kiss Me Moonstruck #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Hawke x Trevelyan #Hawke x Inquisitor #Rose Trevelyan #Garrett Hawke #Dragon Age 2 #Fish out of water in Kirkwall #Romantic Comedy #Matchmaking Moms AU #Fix Up Fic #DA2 Meets Regency Vibes

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shiningdesignersreflections · 1 month ago

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Peppermint: Black Cat Lurking

Designer's Reflection: Black Cat Lurking

Obtained: Sea of Fantasy Gleam

Rarity: SSR

Attribute: Purple/Sexy

Awakened Suit: Black Cat Contract

Story - transcripts from Designer's Reflection

Chapter 1 - President's Black Cat

Chapter 2 - Hidden Truth

Chapter 3 - Strange Mission

Chapter 4 - End of Dimension

Story - summarized

Rumors are circulating about Mercury and his black cat. The "President Elf" keeps his cards close to his chest, but recently, a rival group, Rockefeller, has blackmailed the Mercury Group with some old, but specific, intel about Mercury smuggling cat food.

Besides Mercury, only one other creature would dare go near that section of the study: the black cat. Mercury is suspicious, but he leaves the cat alone. Once he steps out of the room, the black cat shape-shifts into a young man.

The Black Cat Boy is the best spy in Lodden, and Rockefeller hired him to dig up dirt on Mercury that they could use against him in negotiations. The boy splits his time between cuddling with Mercury and delivering intel.

Vulture, Mercury's closest agent, notices the odd behavior, and tries to catch the cat in the act. But the boy figures out he's being watched, so he has to be careful in future missions.

This was only the first chapter of Peppermint's new project: a fanfiction based after a mysterious incident regarding the past owner of New Wing Island before Mercury bought him out.

Connections

-Mercury actually did have a black cat. You can see it in Vol. 1 Ch. 6, when Nikki has visions of Mercury and the cat in his office.

-Peppermint makes herself a pumpkin latte at the end of the Reflection. When the Casual Drinks section of the workshop opened, Peppermint was the first one, meeting an online friend at a café to try a pumpkin latte (per Ai's recommendation).

-Peppermint mentions that the Rockefeller group is fictional, but based after an incident that happened at a Mercury dinner. This is when Mercury himself killed Winslet, a rival who owned New Wing Island.

Fun Facts

-Rockefeller was the name of an American oil tycoon who revolutionized the petroleum industry, and also eliminated his competitors by sabotaging their businesses.

-A common saying in English goes "Curiosity killed the cat," but this is actually half of the original expression. The full version goes, "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back." It encourages exploring and discovering new things rather than avoiding them.

-Peppermint is most famous for her "Suicide Seal" manga, and she has a Little Seal pillow based on the character from the manga.

#peppermint #shining nikki #designer's reflection #ssr designer #apple #apple federation #purple attribute #sexy #rival #death #cat #black cat #secret #spy #agent #sea of fantasy gleam #rockefeller #shape-shifter

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scarabsinthestardust · 3 months ago

Text

Better in the Morning // Ch. 6

MASTERLIST

word count: 2300+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language, mentions of a strained parental relationship, anxiety

I’ll admit, I was shocked when Jake first told me he wanted me to meet his family. He proposed I tag along with them to Michigan for the holidays; he was beyond excited to show me his hometown, and to introduce me to his mom. I shouldn’t have been surprised- we’d been together for almost two years, and it wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it. This was a perfectly normal thing for couples to do, so why was I so goddamn nervous? The way the guys talked about their family, it was safe to assume they had wonderful, caring, loving, and normal parents. I worried that I wouldn’t belong there. I played scenarios over in my head that someone would ask about my parents, and it would all be downhill from there; they’d think I wasn’t good enough for Jake, that I’d tarnish the bloodline. It sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud. Looking back, I realize it was a stupid thing to worry about at all.

My knee was shaking, and Jake placed a hand on me to still it. I was never bothered by planes, but I let Jake believe I was just a nervous flier. It was easier than explaining why I was terrified to meet his parents.

He warned me that December in Michigan would be cold, but I wasn’t prepared for how cold. He chuckled at me, bundled up in all my layers, my teeth chattering as we waited for our ride outside the airport. “What, are you cold or something?” I shot a glare at him and the shit-eating grin on his face. “Doesn’t it get cold in West Virginia?”

“N-not like this. B-b-besides, I was born in T-Texas. I th-thrive in heat.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and brought his lips to my ear. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to warm you up later, huh?”

The next shiver that ran through me probably wasn’t from the cold, and an involuntary gasp escaped my lips.

“Get a room!” Sam yelled overdramatically, in his exaggerated Midwest accent. Jake grinned and flipped him off just as the car pulled up.

The ride was easy, full of excited chatter from the boys, and it helped me to swallow my nerves for the time being. Danny was dropped off at his parents’ house first, with promises to come by the Kiszkas’ later. I didn’t tell anyone I saw him squeeze Sam’s thigh before departing. When we arrived at our destination, my heart started pounding again.

Jake grabbed my hand as everyone was unloading. “It’s going to be fine, babe. They’re going to love you.” I could only pray he was right.

I sucked in a deep breath as we entered the house, Josh leading the way. I was immediately aware how warm it was inside, a welcome shift from the freezing temperature outside. It smelled nice, like a mix of pine and peppermint. The initial excitement, everyone exchanging hugs and ‘I missed you’s had me backed into a corner. I felt like I was only going to be in the way. But when Karen, Jake’s mom, had greeted all her children, she turned her attention to me.

I’m sure it was obvious how nervous I was. She shooed the boys away to give us some space. “You must be Kya. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad you could make it.” She extended her arms to pull me into a soft, welcoming hug. I hugged her back and returned the sentiment. “Let me look at you.” She pulled back to look me in the eyes, her hands on my shoulders. “I can see why you caught Jake’s eye, you’re so pretty.”

I felt the blush creep up my cheeks and did my best to mutter a thank you. I was introduced to their dad, Kelly, and received an equally sweet welcome from Ronnie, Jake’s younger sister.

Most of the evening was spent chatting, everyone getting caught up on what was going on in each other’s lives. Karen asked me questions about my job, how I liked living in Nashville, and some general small talk. No one ever raised any questions about my family, and I wondered if Jake had already said something to them. On one hand, I was grateful I wouldn’t have to force out any awkward explanations to people I barely knew, but I didn’t know how much Jake, or even Josh, would have told them.

They really were such nice people; I didn’t feel like I was being judged or looked down on. They made me feel welcome. We all sat at the dining room table and shared dinner, which was frankly quite delicious. I wasn’t surprised; Jake had to have gotten his culinary talent from somewhere. But as the night progressed, us all gathered in the living room sipping on wine, the nerves started to make a comeback. Jake stood in the corner by the record player, chatting with Kelly about some vinyl or another. Everyone was absorbed in their own conversations, and I was suddenly feeling entirely too hot. I grabbed my jacket and slipped out the back door, hoping no one would notice. Someone did.

I stood against the railing on the back porch, reveling in the quiet and focusing on getting my thoughts in order. It wasn’t that I wasn’t having a good time, and the Kiszkas had been nothing but nice to me. So why did I feel like crying? I pegged it on to the fact I was tired, or maybe I could blame it on some seasonal depression and told myself to get it together.

I jumped at the sound of the back door opening. I expected Jake and was caught off guard when I was met with Karen instead. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Just needed some air.” I forced a smile to show her I was fine.

What I didn’t know was how observant a mother of four could be, and I certainly wasn’t expecting her to pick up on what I was feeling so easily. “I know it can be a little overwhelming sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with needing to take a breather every once in a while.”

Sighing and rubbing my eye, willing myself not to cry, I fiddled with one of the rings on my finger. “I’m sorry. You guys have been wonderful. I’m just not used to… all this.” I waved my hand around, gesturing to the house and hoped she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Oh, it’s okay. Like I said, things can get a little chaotic in this house when the boys are home. I know… I hope you won’t be upset with him… Jake told me a little about your parents. I won’t pester you for details, but I want you to know you have a family here. And if you ever need to talk, woman to woman, you can always reach out.”

At the time, I couldn’t understand why she was opening up and inviting me into her family so easily. Part of me expected her to be like Josh, distrusting and overprotective. She didn’t know me all that well. And I had a hard time fighting off the thought that I didn’t deserve this.

She must have noticed my confusion, although the few stray tears that escaped might have been a dead giveaway for how I was feeling. She grabbed a soft hold of my hand. “Jake speaks so highly of you. Josh and Sam, too.” I was a bit dumbfounded to hear that even Josh had talked about me to his mom, and that it was all good things. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of my baby, Kya. I think you’ve been so good for him, and I can tell he loves you so much.”

And with that, any ounce of self-control I had went out the fucking window. The tears were flowing freely now, and this amazing woman who had brought the love of my life into this world hugged me, just comforting me like any good mother would.

I eventually calmed myself down and pulled away from her, wiping my eyes. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m a fucking mess.” I flinched at the curse that slipped out, but she didn’t seem fazed. I’m sure she’d heard worse raising the boys.

She tsk’d at my apology. “Oh, stop it.” I heard the back door open again; this time it was Jake that stepped out, a worried expression on his face. I quickly wiped my eyes, hoping he didn’t see me crying on his mother’s shoulder.

“Everything okay out here?”

Karen smiled. “Yeah, we’re good. Girl talk.”

Jake placed a hand on my back and looked at me, searching my own expression. “Your lips are blue, babe.”

I giggled. I was so distracted I hadn’t noticed how cold I was. “That’s because we’re in the damn arctic, Jacob.”

With a smug grin on his face, he planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You just need thicker skin.”

Back inside (and back in the comfortable warmth) and feeling like a weight had been lifted off my chest, I was able to enjoy the rest of the evening. After everyone retired for the night, I was laying with Jake on the small bed in his childhood bedroom. It still looked like a teenage boy’s room; old posters lined the walls, including what I guessed was the first Greta Van Fleet poster they made. The room still held remnants of when they were young, whispers of memories of much simpler times. Jake held me close and told me stories of their youth until I started to doze off.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispered into the crown of my head.

“Thank you for letting me into your life.”

The rest of the holiday went off without a hitch. Early Christmas morning we gathered around the tree in the living room, everyone excited for the gift exchange. The fire was lit, giving the house a nice, cozy feeling. I sipped on some coffee and sat cozied up to Jake on the couch, happily watching everyone excitedly opening their gifts. I’d even made it out with a handful of presents myself, which I didn’t really expect but it was sweet, and I was so appreciative. By the end, the floor was littered with shreds of wrapping paper and bows, haphazardly tossed to the ground. I helped clean up while Jake helped Karen start prepping for the huge dinner they would serve later. I also spent some time talking with Ronnie, getting to know the other Kiszka sibling.

I’d gotten a few ‘Merry Christmas’ messages from friends, and one from Richie asking if I was having a good time. I sent a few scattered responses, not wanting to appear to have my nose buried in my phone for too long.

We’d stuffed ourselves way too full at dinner and I was ready to crash. I found myself on the couch, snuggled up with Jake. We had swiped a fleece throw blanket and under the cover of it, his fingers traced along the skin under my shirt absentmindedly. Another buzz from my phone had me holding it up in front of my face.

Unknown number – 8:34 PM

Merry Christmas. Hope you’re well, mija.

I let out a sigh, debating if I wanted to respond. I glanced up at Jake to find him staring at my phone inquisitively. “My dad,” I explained.

“You don’t have his number saved?” I could tell he was only curious; there wasn’t anything judgmental in his voice.

“He changes his number frequently. Probably using a burner phone or something.”

“Is… is that normal?”

He sounded so confused; I couldn’t help but laugh. “For that nutjob? Yeah.” I shot back a quick text, just wishing him a Merry Christmas, not wanting to reveal too much information. He was the last person who needed to know I was in Michigan with my boyfriend.

When it was time to pack up and leave, it was bittersweet. Karen loved having her kids home for the holidays, but the time always came for them to return to their lives in Nashville. Plenty of hugs were exchanged and promises made that we would let her know when everyone was home safe.

Karen ensured I had her number and gave me another reminder to call if I ever needed anything. “Even if you just need me to keep Jake in line once in a while,” she joked. He’d rolled his eyes at that, bidding one last goodbye to his family and leading me out the door.

Jake promptly fell asleep on the plane ride home, giving me some time to think. That was when I realized that my previous worries were, in fact, stupid. His family had welcomed me with open arms, even when they didn’t know me. His mom treated me like I was one of her own, never once shying away, despite my emotional meltdown. She provided the kind of motherly love that I didn’t get to experience as a child, and it made me feel safe. On top of it all, Jake’s willingness and eagerness to invite me into his own family so easily warmed my heart.

He looked so peaceful while he slept. I was a little jealous at the ease with which he could fall asleep on an airplane, neck craned at what I knew had to be an uncomfortable position. I studied him then- his jawline, his lips, the shape of his nose, how his eyes fluttered behind his eyelids as he dreamt. He was beautiful, and I was so proud of him and everything he was, and he was all mine.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #danny gvf #sam gvf

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crowpricorn · 1 year ago

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Would you be willing to share some of your favorite wesper fics 🥺🥺🥺?

of course!! disclaimer: it's going to be.. mostly from two comfort authors + some other few works (I still have to read a lot of fics that are rotting in my bookmarks / mark for laters)

my fav works by @sunfl8wer

enchanted to meet you has to be my fav fic from her!! i'm waiting for the second chapter so very (im)patiently! toy maker jesper au with willy wonka slash klaus vibes but sillier and sweeter! (1/2 ch., rating T)

sour apple baby but you taste so sweet summer modern au with vet!wylan🥺 (one shot, rating T)

ocean blue eyes looking in mine super soft pwp with hidden gems like THIS line "There’s a cacophony of sounds hidden behind those beautiful blue eyes: cities burnt to ashes and risen again, stark shores against plush green hills. Being looked like that feels like flying, it feels like drowning" (one shot, rating E)

make it to christmas modern christmas au!! first meeting + first dates🥺 (one shot, rating T)

and all of her works really!!!! (shout out to "hypnotized by freckles and bright eyes")

my fav works by @jackwolfes

remember that summer this fic is SO soft one of my personal faves! childhood friends to lovers + a tree house!! (one shot, rating T)

blue waves crashing is special!!!! mermaid wylan au (10/10chapters, rating T)

late nights in the middle of june tattoo parlor au!!! the first ever wesper au I read, so it has a special place in my heart (3/3 chapters, rating M)

another lots of their fics (it's pointless to say that 70% of the fics I read is theirs!!) like "tied up with nowhere to go", "you know I talk too much", "without pity", "the bed we loved in", "chocolate strawberries and peppermint macarons", and many others

other personal faves:

symphony no.6 by @starklystar the jesper character study ever🙏🏻 (one shot, rating M)

A Brief and Eventful Internship by rainstormdragons, american elections au!! this is so fun to read! (one shot, rating E)

Love Song by thegoldenkneazle orchestra player wylan x theater boy jesper.. I love this!! (one shot, rating T)

Escapology by @oneofthewednesdays escape room au with lots of friendship and fun! (one shot, rating T)

can you fill the silence by annesbonny selectively mute wylan au!! truly beautiful (one shot, rating T)

#anon #I haven't read fics in centuries btw I should get back to it!#fics recs #wesper #wesper fics #six of crows #fic rec #soc fanfic

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vittoriaisfuckingpathetic · 7 months ago

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save me from the nothing i've become ch 2

rated M | read it on ao3 | 3.9k words | prev chapter | next chapter

Reeling from the shocking information he received, John tries to go about his day as normal as he can. Plagued by his thoughts and grappling with his own feelings on the matter, he tries to get some space to think.

John felt like he was trying to inhale a lungful of water. He forced himself to exhale, the action coming out shakily.

“Marston,” John carefully repeated, voice eerily calm. “Like me?” he breathed. He stared at Jack as if the boy had three heads. In return, Jack simply stared back.

Jack Marston.

Marston.

Abigail’s son.

Her son, Jack Marston.

His son, Jack Marston.

Their son, Jack Marston.

“Maybe we should talk somewhere private.” Abigail replied evenly, trying to keep the situation under control. “We’re livin’ at the women’s home. It’s that big house up the road from the church. I… um, I was on my way to work, but we can talk after. I’m off at five o’clock, and then I’ll explain everything, I promise.” She assured him.

John swallowed hard. “I…” Really, what could he even say? He could hardly look her in the eye, let alone form full sentences. All of his thoughts seemed to form excruciatingly slow, too busy trying to process the bombshell she’d dropped on him. “Alright,” he replied weakly after a few more moments.

Abigail did not say anything else to him, but she did give him a hopeful kind of half smile. Then, she ushered the boy along. John stared at the two once their backs were turned, the gears in his head sluggishly moving along.

She had to be fucking with him. This had to be some sick joke, that’s all it was… wasn’t it?

But he knew Abigail, and he knew she wouldn’t lie to him. Not like that, not over something so major. She’d have nothing to gain from it.

Maybe she expected him to be angry. Maybe he was angry. He didn’t know. After all, how was someone supposed to feel upon discovering they had fathered a child and didn’t know for five years?

Five fucking years. And if the gang hadn’t fallen apart, he may have never known.

Yeah, maybe he was a little angry.

Angry at what, though? Himself, for not piecing together that something was wrong and running away with her all of those years ago? Angry at Abigail for not telling him? Angry at Dutch and the rest of the gang for stealing away a part of his life? Maybe a combination of the three?

When just about the sixth person had practically shoved into him, John forced himself to start walking. He moved aimlessly, ignoring all of the sights and sounds of the town. His boots kicked up sand and dust as he walked — or rather, trudged.

A son. It wasn’t the most unlikely thing that could have happened. He remembered what it was like. The two of them would be giddy after a robbery, or eager to sneak away from camp, stealing quick moments and being less-than-careful. That was when nothing in life felt truly pressing — they were young(er) and irresponsible, and neither of them was thinking of any kind of consequence.

He found himself back in front of his horse.

John sighed. “Hey there, Missy,” he greeted her softly, deciding then and there that Missy was a fine name for the horse. He’d grown quite fond for her for the short time he’d had her. Perhaps it was a bit odd, she was the closest thing to a listening ear he had.

Missy nosed at his palm in search of treats.

He chuckled lightly despite himself. “I know, I know. I’ll remember your peppermints next time, promise.” He was quiet for a moment, petting her mane thoughtlessly.

Maybe a ride would clear his head. When he was younger he used to peel out of camp, Grimshaw yelling after him, going as fast as his horse could comfortably go. He’d embrace nothing but the air flowing through his locks and impulsivity in his heart. He usually didn’t go far, especially when he was a teenager (being secretly frightened that everyone would leave camp and he’d get left behind), but it was just a way to get away from it all. After spending his developmental years in the slums of Chicago, he had become fond of the open wilderness.

Of course, he was older now, and a little significantly more jaded.

“Why don’t we go for a ride, huh? You wanna explore?” John said, earning himself a strange look from a passing stranger.

Naturally, Missy didn’t reply.

The vast sea of sand and cacti surrounding him certainly calmed his mind. It was a monotonous view, but it lacked the stressors of town.

Not to mention, it felt a little less unbearably hot with the constant movement.

It was on the open road that he could finally sort out his thoughts. He’d been wandering aimlessly for a while. It was lonely, quiet.

He hadn’t checked his pocket watch, but if he had to guess, it had probably been a little over an hour.

He clicked his tongue, slowing Missy’s pace to a walk. “Take a break, girl,” He said, not wanting to push her too hard. He slid off and hitched her to one of the only trees nearby— a joshua tree.

Sitting underneath the limited shade of a joshua tree, John tried to think of what Arthur would tell him to do.

“Don’t understand what her problem is,” a 20-year-old John muttered. The song and dance had gotten old at this point. Him and Abigail would fight over something stupid and immature, and John would go and sulk in Arthur’s tent for a while.

“You can’t just hide in my tent for the rest ‘a your life, Johnny. So you best figure out what the problem is,” Arthur replied disinterestedly, clearly more interested in scribbling something in his journal than listening to John whine.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he retorted, getting needlessly testy with Arthur. “She’s impossible to figure out.”

Arthur sighed and hefted himself off of his cot. He placed his hands on John’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Listen to me. You need to step up, be a man, and go to your woman. Talk things out with her. And for Christsakes, take some responsibility for once.”

“Hey!”

John glanced up to where a grizzled-looking man stood just a few feet away, hands on his hips in an effort to look intimidating.

John sized up the man in front of him. He was visibly disheveled, with a long, dirty beard, shirt half-tucked, and caked in mud below his knees. “You need somethin’, partner?” he asked indifferently.

“Yer trespassin’ in this here land. There’s a hefty fee for that, cowboy.”

“That so?”

The man smirked, pistol now in hand. “‘Fraid so.”

It would take more than some hillbilly with a dirty gun to scare him into handing over his money.

With lightning quick speed, he drew his revolver, aiming at the man squarely in the chest. “I don’t think you wanna do this,” John warned.

The idiot aimed his own gun.

With precise speed, John pulled the revolver’s hammer. Time seemed to slow.

Inhale….

Finger on the trigger.

One…

Two…

Three.

Pull the trigger.

…Exhale.

The bullet hit him squarely in the chest. The man crumbled to a heap on the ground, sputtering.

John sighed. He supposed he ought to be getting back to town anyway.

A few hours later, John waited anxiously on the doorstep of the women’s home, hat in hands. It was a large house, likely once an old manor, with a weathered wood exterior.

The door creaked open, an older woman with graying hair appearing behind the door. “Can I help you?”

He smoothed his hair back nervously. “I’m, uh, I’m here to see Abigail.”

She looked him up-and-down suspiciously. “Hold on a second,” she stated curtly, then closed the door in his face.

After what felt like several minutes, she came back, still with a slight scowl on her face. “Follow me,” she said, not waiting for him to follow.

He walked into the house. It was well kept, but he cared little about the finer details, his mind focused on Abigail. She led him up a spiral staircase and down a dimly lit hallway with red carpeting. She stopped in front of the final door, gesturing to the door, then turned on her heel.

John inhaled deeply and poised himself to knock.

But Abigail beat him to the punch and opened the door.

“Hi, John,” she greeted, tucking a flyaway hair behind her ear timidly. ‘I’m glad you came,” she sidestepped to let him in.

The space was small, but it was cozy. A double bed was in the corner of the room, pressed against the wall. There was a green-painted nightstand with an oil lamp atop of that. In the middle of the room lay a decently sized plush rug — some sort of animal skin, in a shade of dark brown. In the center of the left wall sat a small fireplace, which currently wasn’t burning. An empty bookshelf was to the right of that, housing trinkets, blankets, and a few of her son’s toys. On the opposite side of the room there was a small table with two chairs pulled up to it. The room was kept neat, just like how Abigail always liked her space to be.

The sun had started to set, casting the room in golden hour’s glow.

“Evenin’, Abigail,” He greeted. Internally, he winced. There was a considerable level of awkwardness between them. “Where’s the kid?”

“He’s in the next room over, there’s a woman here with a daughter about his age. She usually watches Jack while I’m at work,” She explained, shifting her weight. “I, well— I made tea.” She said, gesturing to the table, where two teacups sat, steam curling upwards into the air. “Why don’t we sit down?”

She made tea now? He distinctly remembered her being preferential to coffee.

He sat down at the table, and she sat opposite to him.

God, the last time they’d been sitting face to face like this, it was the night she’d left camp.

They were so different now.

“Did you know?” He asked. It was perhaps the question at the forefront of his mind. He had to know. “When you left, that is? Did you know?” he clarified.

She was quiet for a moment, staring down at her teacup as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “Yes, John. I did.”

She knew. Had he done something to make her not trust him? Why didn’t she feel the need to tell him something so monumental, so life-changing?

“And, what?” He huffed out an indignant laugh. “You just conveniently forgot to tell me?”

She crossed her arms. “Will you stop? It ain’t like that.”

“Yeah? Then how is it? Because from where I’m standin’, it don’t make you look like a saint.” He bit back. It probably was harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t help feeling resentful.

“It weren’t right, I admit it.” Abigail said, sounding just a touch bitter. “But I was scared , John. And I knew you wouldn’t leave the gang. I also knew you had no interest in bein’ a father. So… I thought it was the best thing to do — I know it was wrong. But when I tried to find you, the gang was already gone.”

John was quiet as he digested this. She had looked for him, but it was too late. He knew that part wasn’t her fault.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself level-headed.

“...For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. But like I said, I was doin’ what I thought was best for me.”

He still couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. “You sure he’s mine?” he asked calmly, gaze directed at the wall.

She raised an eyebrow. “You really think I’d’ve bothered with all of this if he weren’t?”

John said nothing in reply, knowing she had a good point. It wasn’t the brightest question to ask, but he had blurted it out anyway out of a sense of morbid curiosity. Almost as if her confirming it would make it more real.

And make it real, it did.

There was a pregnant pause. The only thing that could be heard was the faraway noise of the cicadas outside.

“Well, I don’t know what you’re plannin’ on doin’. I know you’re on the run. But… if you want to see the boy…” she trailed off, seeming to struggle with how to finish her sentence. “We’ll be here.”

A part of him wanted nothing more. He’d spent these last five years dreaming of her, dreaming of what could have been. This could be a fresh start, a chance at normalcy. She was once again extending the olive branch. She was open to having him — a wanted criminal, back into her life, even though she had once left him for, well, being a criminal.

That was an oversimplification of things. It wasn’t just that John was a criminal, it was that she was surrounded by degenerates and wanted safety for Jack. She didn’t want her baby to be raised in a gang, and a part of him couldn’t blame her, either. Would he have wanted any child of his to be raised in the gang? They may have been his family, but that was a dangerous life. One a baby had no business being involved in. Hell, he considered himself decently scarred by growing up in a gang, and he only fell into that life when he was twelve.

He supposed he didn’t blame her. The life she was pursuing seemed fairly decent in comparison to the shitstorm he’d been in as of late.

And she was offering him a place by her side. At least, he was pretty sure that’s what she was offering.

But he had those little nagging fears, the same things that had stopped him from pursuing a life with her before. The concept of fatherhood was fucking terrifying. Even worse, he was being actively hunted by the law now. He had one of the highest bounties in the entire country, second only to Dutch.

He rose from the table, a dull headache already beginning to manifest at his temple. “I need to sleep on it,” he said tiredly. He had much more to say, but his mind was so clouded.

“I understand,” Abigail replied. She followed him to the door. “Goodnight, John.”

There was a pause between them, neither of them quite knowing how to end the interaction. She was closer to him than she’d been since that night all of those years ago. Close enough to touch. To hug. To kiss.

None of those things happened. He was torn between leaving so he could dissect his thoughts in peace and staying so he could try to understand more. He desperately wanted to understand the situation. He wanted her , wanted things back to normal, he never wanted to tear his eyes from her ever again and yet he needed some space from it all.

“You too,” he finally muttered back. He was forcing himself to walk down the hallway and not look back.

He knew if he looked back, he’d never leave.

John Marston — a father. He had a son. What a frightening thought.

John had no fond memories of his father. He was an angry, bitter, disturbed man. Sharp-tongued (when sober) with a sharper backhand. The man did the bare minimum to keep John alive, and even that seemed to be a small miracle. Some of his earliest memories were of pickpocketing and scrounging for food — in general, his early years were spent struggling to survive. In no small part, thanks to his father.

Eight-year-old John waited in a dark corner of the saloon as his father gambled what little money they had saved up.

It wasn’t like that money was going to be used for anything better. It was always used on either gambling or whoring, with the occasional bit used on food. Generally, Pa let John scrounge for his own food, saying, “There’s food everywhere, boy, you just ain’t know how to find it.”

As a result, hunger was no stranger to John. He could be crafty when necessary, sure, but finding food wasn’t always the easiest task.

Still, Pa made sure he had just enough so he didn’t keel over, and rarely ever did he allow any sort of luxury. On his birthdays — when Pa was sober enough to remember, that was — he’d get a peppermint candy tossed at him, and to John, it was special. It absolutely the bare minimum, but it was some sort of acknowledgment at the very least.

He savored those moments. It was one of few times Pa would pay any positive attention to him.

Today wasn't one of those days. John was lucky the saloon owner had taken pity on him and let him stay inside. Though maybe the sight of John shivering in the winter storm had convinced the man.

He knew that people weren’t always heartless. There was usually some sucker out there that would take pity on him enough. Enough for him to keep surviving to the next day.

Unsurprisingly, Pa’s blackjack game didn’t go very well. The cursing and yelling surprised the boy very little. He only became concerned when gunshots began to echo throughout the room. Familiar with this song and dance, John kept low to the ground, and crawled past the chaos and behind the bar. It was unlikely a bit less likely that he would catch a stray bullet there. He curled up in himself, knees pressed to his chest, as he waited for the violence to end. Pa always collected him after it was all said and done.

Only, Pa didn’t collect him this time.

That had been the last time John had seen his father alive. He had seen the aftermath: when he made his way to the gallows and saw his father’s corpse hanging from the noose, neck broken.

The apathetic crowd had already begun to dissolve, their bloodlust satiated for the time being. The sheriff had shoved his father’s meager belongings into John’s hands and left, leaving the child alone to stare at the corpse.

It was bitterly ironic, John thought. Jack could likely be in the same position as John was once. Saddled with nothing but a deadbeat criminal for a father. One who was bound to be tried and murdered just as his father before him.

There was also the entire matter with Dutch, who could be arguably viewed as his non biological father – but the damage Dutch had done to him was an entirely different beast.

Then there was Hosea who was the closest thing John had to an emotionally stable parent, but that would require him to unpack all of the painful emotions he’d shoved away when the elder man had died.

Of course, John could change the tide. He could simply vanish. He’d thought about it many times over the course of the day, of simply leaving. The kid could grow up without knowing his pathetic excuse of a father. Abigail would raise him well. She was a good person.

John was not.

But still, he desired to at least meet the boy. He felt like he owed it to both Jack and himself, in a way. One positive interaction was all it took to be better than his own father.

He’d meet Jack. Talk things out with Abigail, too. Then… well, he’d figure out to go from there.

Resigning himself to the idea, he let his eyes shut. He was weary from the day’s events; as anyone would rightfully be. It wasn’t everyday you learned that you had an illegitimate child.

Eventually, he finally drifted into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, John woke with a splitting headache and a crick in his neck. He hadn’t even bothered undressing the night before, mind elsewhere.

He stumbled out of bed and walked to the mirror, taking in his disheveled appearance. His hair was mussed, pieces of it sticking up at unnatural angles, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. His clothes were rumpled, too — in general, he looked like he’d seen better days. He set out to make himself look a little less like a ruffian, if for no other reason then so Abigail wouldn’t think he was a complete slob.

Abigail. What a strange thought, that she was in his life again.

He supposed he’d go and see her and the boy after she was finished with work. Besides, it gave him a bit more time to process his feelings. Or even figure out what to say to the kid, at least.

He fixed his hair, combing through the greasy locks with his fingers (part of him bitterly wondered why he even bothered with washing his hair, when it got oily the next day) until it didn’t look like a rat’s nest anymore. He took off his ridiculously wrinkly vest, tossing it uncaringly on the floor. He smoothed out his shirt, and gave himself a once-over in the mirror.

Well, it was a slight improvement. He didn’t look like scum stuck to someone’s boot anymore.

Finally, he placed Arthur’s his hat on his head, as he did every day, and made his way downstairs.

Aside from a couple of sad drunks and a bartender, it was virtually empty in the saloon. He walked over to the bar, placing a coin on the counter.

Was drinking the best way to greet the morning? No. Did he care? Also, no.

“Startin’ the day off with liquor, partner?” The bartender chuckled, in the middle of toweling off a glass. “Must be havin’ a rough time,”

That was the understatement of the century. John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ignoring the man’s comments completely, he instead asked, “You know where a feller can get work ‘round here?”

The bartender hummed thoughtfully as he rummaged around for whiskey. “Well,” He paused to pour the drink. “The sheriff’s lookin’ to replace a deputy. Last one got shot for foolin’ ‘round with another man’s wife. Weren’t nothin’ pretty. Think he’s lookin’ for a couple new deputies, if I recall,” He added, then slid the shot over to John.

John grimaced, the action pulling at the scars on his cheek. “Pass. Anything else?” He was reminded of Dutch’s plot back in Rhodes, posing as deputies in a hare-brained scheme that ultimately blew up in their faces.

That, and personally, he wasn’t too fond of law-enforcement types.

“There’s a ranch ‘bout ten miles north that could surely use some help. Almost all of the farmhands are indisposed, on account of part of the property catchin’ fire,”

John snorted. Him? A rancher? The idea was laughable. “Eh, don’t think that’s quite for me,”

“I’m sure you could ask in town, partner. Folks round here is always lookin’ for someone to hire. People ain’t comin from farther away no more, so there’s some jobs open.”

John tilted his head, interest mildly piqued. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Gang’s been terrorizin’ the area. They don’t come into town, thank the Lord, but folk are just scared to leave town, now. Ain’t too safe to go into the desert. Surprised you didn’t get robbed on your way here.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You must be real lucky, Mister.”

John didn’t say anything at first, not feeling a need to divulge that someone had attempted to rob him yesterday. He didn’t need to draw any undue attention himself.

Instead, he finally brought the shotglass to his lips. “Hm. My brother used to always tell me I’m lucky.”

#red dead redemption fanfic #rdr fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #johnigail #john marston x abigail roberts #john marston #abigail roberts #john marston fanfic #jack marston #rdr fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #vittoria.doc #smftnib

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zerolostwalks · 2 months ago

Note

Fic writer asks:

4, 11, 16, 24, 44, 70

(there are too many great questions!)

Thank you thank you! They are really good questions!! (found here)

Long post is long so there's a read more cut. (Question 16. (How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?) gets especially long because I decided I want to discuss all my WIPs.)

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

This is a wonderful question, and honestly it depends. Some ideas definitely are me reading or watching something and forming an AU around that. Sometimes it's listening to music and a vibe strikes me that I am like I must write a story that fits this vibe. Other times, I'll be daydreaming and a single scene will pop into my mind and haunt me until I write it down which usually leads to creating the world and circumstances to allow that scene to happen. Sometimes I get an impulsive (in the cases of my darker angstier stuff intrusive thought) and my brain is like wouldn't that be messed up? (Like Crash Pad, Ch 11 solely happened because I built the backstory for the POV character and brain went, you know what't be really screwed up?)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh geez. But there are so many good fics!! At this moment the immediate top 3 that jumped in my head were:

-It's a supernatural delight by @invisibleraven (JatP fic) -Trip of My Life (Every Time You're Touching Me) by @daintyduck99 (JatP fic) -Prince Charming's Jacket by hitechlatte (Rise TMNT fic)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

So most of my fic ideas are in some WIP phase. (I'm serious when I saw I need a focus schedule to help me out) We Run Together - This next chapter is all Reggie being all anxiety riddled because Cam and Bobby take him shopping . . .still not sure if we're gonna get to the plane ride this chapter or next. Bobby's first since turning and Reggie's first period. . .it's a miserable affair for the two of them. I have this mental image of them during a layover just sprawled in the waiting away noses shoved in some sort of fast food bag or peppermint bag fighting off the queasiness of being trapped in a metal tube with a bunch of people, including young kids. . Hello Baby June, Goodbye Heart - I keep going back an reading what we have for the next chapter and all our notes. I don't know how much Ash is ok with me gushing about details bu I'll just say the stuff we've got planned it's literally that meme of "give me fic. 'you have to write it.' no write only fic." A lot of of my JatP wips are on rotisserie skewers in my brain right now, rotating, coming into view, reminding me of their presence, enticing me to work on them. And they ALL have moments that I am like, you were the scene! The reason I started this fic in the first place and I still haven't gotten to you yet!! . Crash and Burn - Gotta get through this last chapter of Crash Pad, which is gonna be fun. But then Glowing Embers!! Aaaah, the Donnie POV side of Crash Pad!! Especially Ch 9-11 of Crash Pad like I am at that point of must write this that I have worked myself into a frenzied state where writing is no longer possible . Finally the Donnie Double AU - This AU has so much angst potential. Right now I have two planned fics for it. An unnamed one where Mikey goes after the Donnie Duplicate to try and coax him back to the lair. Only instead he sets him off. And like I said, it gets angsty. The Donnie Duplicate 1000% believes he is OG Donnie, it is hardwired into him, no amount of evidence is going to convince him otherwise. Also hardwired into him is the belief that the only way to get his life back is to kill the entity that stole it from him i.e. OG Donnie. Which leads me to the second planned fic Meant to Be(working title, it may change). This is the reader insert(possibly OC) led fic. Essentially the premise is Donnie Duplicate runs into MC, and initially begins clinging to them out of an 'I just lost my entire support system' desperation that turns into a really unhealthy obsessive possessiveness. When I say it is pulling a lot of vibes, especially the planned ending, from Meant to be Yours from Heathers the Musical I ain't lying. In fact most of the vibe songs I am pulling for this lean into dark and angsty feels. Straight up have been listening to a song called Stalker's Tango on a loop for planning parts of this fic

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

Hmmmmmm, this ones tough, if it was bad advice I most likely purged it from my mind. The thing is sometimes what is great advice for one person and their way of writing may be terrible advice for some one else. Like even the write daily advice, I think this is great advice. But it needs to be tailored to some extent. When I got back into fic writing I worked myself to the point where I am now needing to reevaluate my expectations of me and my writing. Because I can no longer keep up with the way I wrote a few years ago. The same advice I would have thought was great then would kill me now.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

This question would be easier if I had a regular beta XD. Personal mistake of my own that I keep noticing, I don't let the story breath enough.

70. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

I have no hesitations telling people I write. I might not always discuss what the stories themselves are. But the brilliant thing about fanfiction is I don't have to, I can just talk about the joy of exploring the characters outside of canon, exploring how they would behave in different circumstances. At my sister's wedding a couple years ago, most people didn't even care about the what I was writing, more on the how I found the time. Because this was when I was in peak production mode, where I was slowly burning myself out with the sheer amount of writing I was doing without pacing myself at all.

#thanks for the ask!#writer asks #JatP #rise of the tmnt

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jjungkookislife · 2 years ago

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2023: #1

Hello! I'm back with the first quarterly fic rec list of the year! I didn't read much these past few months but here are the fics I enjoyed!

Seokjin

Knocked @sailoryooons

summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

Yoongi

Twirl For Me @gimmethatagustd

summary: You’re perfectly content with admiring your ballet student’s father from afar, until he discovers the secret of your second job when he pays for a VIP room at the local strip club. What’s worse is your new knowledge of his secret life that won’t let you get him off your mind, no matter how awful it is.

Under the Ice @hamsterclaw

summary: You and your partner Jimin are part of an emergency evacuation on the Hope base in Antarctica. A crack team is drafted in to help. The only problem? It includes your ex-husband Min Yoongi.

The Window @kithtaehyung

summary: you get to spend the holidays in a lavish private lodge with your brother and all his friends. but you’re just really fucking sad tonight… and maybe a bit mad, too.

Hoseok

none :(

Namjoon

Baby Fever @wildestdreamsblog

summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.

Jimin

none :(

Taehyung

none :(

Jungkook

Cherry Bomb @milfgyuu

summary: You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window.

Because I Love You Ch. 7 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

The Art of Trying @venusiangguk

summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t.

Love to Hate (Extra Scene 1: Jungkook's POV) @kpopfanfictrash

summary: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Antidote @gimmethatagustd

summary: You know exactly how to make your boyfriend feel better when he’s feeling down, but he has his own plans.

Busted Again @btsgotjams27

summary: jungkook looks way too good in this outfit, and you need him to do some unspeakable things to you while in it.

OT7/Multiple Members

none :(

Seokjin

none :(

Yoongi

none :(

Hoseok

Good Teacher @here2bbtstrash

summary: hoseok teaching reader to suck dick ft. a serious virginity kink

Let's Put On a Show @/readyplayerhobi

summary: Welcome to HopeWorld! Lay back and enjoy a show with BehindTheScene’s number one dominant camboy, Hope! Are you looking for a Master to make you whine? A Sir to make you beg? Or a Daddy to treat you right? Hope’s got something for everyone...

Flower ^

summary: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

Peppermint ^

summary: Achieving your dream job is something that very people manage to do, which is why you’re all the more happier when you land a job on the film team at Poppin’ Culture; the biggest pop culture website, blog and YouTube channel around. What you don’t expect however, is to fall for the exceptionally shy and awkward colleague who is not even remotely your type. Or is he?

Transference @dark-muse-iris

summary: Prolonged periods of work-related stress bring you to a crossroads in your life that leaves you prone to make impulsive decisions. During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card belonging to a "tantric therapist" and take a risk. When you discover your therapist is an attractive young man with a penchant for shibari, you throw caution to the wind as he helps guide you to self-recovery.

Gone Wild @johobi

summary: Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back…

Namjoon

Leave No Trace Behind @yoongiphoria

famous!namjoon x gn!reader

Jimin

I Can Do Better @here4btsfics

summary: Your boyfriend of two years just dumped you and you're angry and sad. So get hammered with your coworker at his place and eat bad food and watch trash TV. Which leads to some interesting conversations.

Taehyung

Daydreaming @hisunshiine

summary: Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene.

Late Night Talking ^

summary: ‘we’ve been doing all this late-night talking about anything you want until the morning, now you’re in my life, i can’t get you off my mind.’ KTH is your favorite camboy, & you’ve just been chosen as the winner of his contest. The winner gets to have their fantasy play out, with a twist and a gift...the platform is testing a new ability to allow the content creators to also see their subscribers in real time.

Cinema ^

summary: i guess we’re in time, if you’re getting yourself wet for me. KTH is your favorite camboy, & after winning a contest, the two of you have grown closer and gotten to know each other after a one-on-one session. After realizing you live in the same city, he asks to meet you—IRL.

Jungkook

The Ex Text @kookdiaries

summary: The 2 AM texts have started again, and despite wishing to forget him, you’ll never have anyone as good as your ex.

Because I Love You Ch. 8 @/readyplayerhobi

Lucky, Lucky Girl @kth1fics

summary: The joy of Jungkook having a grand ol’ time with his own personal karaoke night causes you, his roommate, to grow more and more annoyed.

Love to Hate (Extra Scene 2: Jungkook's POV) @/kpopfanfictrash

Red-Handed @bangtanstanst

summary: Two lessons learned today: patience is a virtue, and fitting rooms are much less private than you thought.

On Mute @yoon-kooks

summary: You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confided in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

Micro-orgasm @dovechim

summary: biology lab takes an entirely different spin when you find something unexpected in your cheek cell sample.

OT7/Multiple Members

Before I Leave You Ch. 47 @hollyhomburg

summary: A visit to Namjoon’s hospital to get tae on some gender affirming hormones (good girl juice) leads to some…surprising developments. “You can’t just say ‘addictive slick’ and expect us to be on board with it!?”

Seokjin

9 Months to Fall In Love Ch. 21 Ch. 22 Ch. 23 @floralseokjin

summary: It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in. Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it. Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

Yoongi

Ego: Hoe Chronicles @suga-kookiemonster

summary: he was messing with you again. he was messing with you, trying to get a reaction out of you simply for his own amusement. but you refused to give it to him—refused to give him the satisfaction of playing right into his hands.

Three Tangerines @/kithtaehyung

summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

Summer BBQ ^

summary: the summer cookout at your place is fun as hell despite the way you have to avoid yoongi looking like sin incarnate. but when he gets asked an unavoidable question, you suddenly feel exposed. and very, very cold.

Fortuitous @underthejoon

summary: Your fates were sealed long before your paths crossed. Get your diploma and get married. You were similar in that way – both bound by outdated customs. Falling in love was never something either of you dared to dream about. Until it happened.

Of Fire and Love @/hollyhomburg

summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Sweetener @taegularities

summary: You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

Take Five @jiminrings

summary: dr. min yoongi’s a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand — oh and also, he’s divorced. alternatively, you’re yoongi’s nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out — he never said anything about accepting though.

Insemination Wars @prolixitae

summary: getting pregnant isn’t an easy feat, especially when balancing work and a stubborn husband. a chronological compilation that highlights the trial and error of good old-fashioned baby making

Crescent Bound @parkhabits

summary: Being a transfer student in the middle of the term was no one’s ideal choice. Maybe this time would be different, this time you’d try and branch out of your little academic bubble and create a social life, friendships, maybe even find love. It didn’t take long to figure out that Min Yoongi only associated within his specific group. Yet something drew you to him and him to you, however you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to him.

The Airdrop Incident @/yoon-kooks

summary: You accidentally AirDrop a racy photo of yourself in strappy lingerie to your hot and arrogant neighbor Min Yoongi.

Hoseok

none :(

Namjoon

Make a Move @joheunsaram

summary: Your perfect summer bucket list was almost complete, except for one newly added item.

You're Welcome to Stay, If You Want @taleasnewastime

werewolf au

Jimin

Put It On Me @jimilter

summary: When you signed up to model your cleavage for a jewelry commercial, no one bothered to tell you it wasn’t gonna be a solo shoot. It’s unfair being blindsided and you want to protest, but A-list model and flirt extraordinaire Park Jimin’s steel-cut abs have you kinda tongue-tied. And then you get kinda too busy thinking of other ways in which you’d like him to shut you up.

Taehyung

Beautiful Dreamer @mikrokcsmos

summary: in which you’re on your honeymoon, and though you should be enamored by the sights around you – you still believe that your husband is better.

Ladybug @cupoftaae

Jungkook

Sweet Nothing @adonis-koo

summary: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

T-Shirt @still-with-koo

summary: you wake up in your friend’s bed after spending last night partying at his sister’s wedding as his fake girlfriend.

OT7/Multiple Members

The Sordid Place Ch. 2 @nabiolive

summary: Namjoon breaks down and installs Grindr after his friends complain he is “terminally single,” despite never really being into hook ups. Jungkook is an old pro at the hookup app. Their connection is instant.

Collateral ^

summary: Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You. But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

Before I Leave You Ch. 49 @hollyhomburg

summary: Hobi has a bad day, you make it better.

Daydreams @euphoricfilter

summary: sometimes it’s nice to get lost in daydreams

#jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic rec #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist

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onemeangreenbean · 1 year ago

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Anything Ch 3

SUMMARY: On the precipice of death Wynter does the only thing she can think to do to save herself. Something that is forbidden in her practice….to summon a demon and make a deal. The demon that answers her call ask what Wynter is offering and in her delirious state she answers with the only thing she can think of “Anything”.

PAIRING: Demon!Yoongi x BlackWitch OC

GENRE: Demon AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Soulmates, Smut, Fluff, Angst, slowburn

WARNINGS: violence, gore, murder (maybe), eventual smut, panic attacks, honestly my brain has stopped but promise each chapter with have individual warnings!

WORDCOUNT: 5,550

Previous | Next

Anything Masterlist | Masterlist

Sunlight filtered in through the crack in the blinds. Slowly waking Wynter out of her sleep. Her body heavy and sluggish as she rolled over and to grab her phone. It was 7:45 am, meaning that she was already running late to work. While Namjoon did get to the store extremely early, he was usually busy prepping and maintaining all the spells or rituals that were working overnight. Though if she called and told him she wasn’t feeling well, he probably wouldn’t mind. Wynter had never called off since she started working, but knowing Namjoon he would stop by to check on her and that was not something she could afford with Yoongi posted up on her couch.

Head pounding Wynter pulled herself up and texted Namjoon.

Wynter: Good morning best boss in the world! I will be a bit late. I’m feeling a bit under the weather but I’m fine to come in.

Joonie: You don’t need to come in if you’re not feeling well. I can handle the place by myself today. I actually think Tae might be able to come and help today. I’ll stop by afterwards to check on you

This is exactly what she didn’t want.

Wynter: Really I’m fine to come in. Nothing my mama’s secret tea can’t fix. I promise I’m fine. If I show up and you think otherwise you can kick me out!

Joonie: Okay…..but don’t push yourself too hard.

With some extra time added to her morning. Wynter removed herself from her bed and made her way to the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Yoongi was still sprawled on the couch asleep, feet hanging off the end. Only a little tuft of long black hair poking out of the blanket. Wynter smiled a little at the sight before closing the bathroom door behind her.

Quickly showering and going through her morning routine. Wynter threw on her green silk bathrobe and went to go make her tea. When she exited she saw the Yoongi was no longer asleep but awake. Wrapped in her blanket he was watching tv and eating a bowl of cereal. Cheeks still puffy with sleep and hair a mess. His eyes slowly dragged their way over to her form in acknowledgment before going back to the tv. “Good morning.” Wynyer greeted as she made her way around the couch and to the kitchen.

She pulled open the drawer where she kept her teas. The 1 oz mason jars were organized in neat little rows labeled clearly on the top. The joys of having an herbalist as a mom was that Wynter never had a shortage of tea for any occasion or aliment. Finding the mason jar labeled “For Mama’s Baby” in her mama’s neat handwriting, Wynter plucked it up and opened it. The scent of peppermint and lavender filled her nose and instantly reminded her of home.

It was a special blend that helped with illnesses of all sort. Really a catch all tea for when you didn’t know what was wrong - 9 times out of 10 it worked. Yoongi watched her from the couch as she walked around the kitchen and made her tea. When she made to turn around he fixed his attention back to the random show that was on and stuffed his face with more cereal.

“Is it good?” Wynter sat on the other end of her small couch, leaving enough space for a person between them. Her floor length rope falling open a bit showing her smooth leg, while she sipped her tea.

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbled with his mouth full. They sat in comfortable silence and watched the anime that was on. Wynter wondered if this was what it was gonna be like for the next five years. That was honestly still crazy to her. Five years was so long. She watched Yoongi as he stared intensely at they screen, he brow furrowed in thought, pulling his lips into a pout as he tried to understand what was happening on the screen. Cute.

“Do you plan on just staring at me all morning or do you not have work today?” Wynter chocked a little on her tea as he called her out. Feeling her face warm a bit. Yoongi smirked at how cute she looked flustered.

Averting her eyes she took another sip of the calming tea before she spoke. “I wanted to say thank you for last night. You didn’t have to help me.” It had taken her by surprise that he took the time to help calm her panic attack down. While he was still aloof and cold his touch had been gentle, grounding her.

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to feel flustered. Scratching the back of his neck, he placed the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna do some digging into this Jiyeon girl and see if I can find out anything about her or what her motive could be. What all do you know about her?” He needed to change the subject, because thinking about how Wynter being upset had also upset him brought more confusion to his mind than he cared to admit.

“Well, before she tried to kill me, allegedly, she said that she was a university student studying linguistics. Lives alone, single, interested in the occult. She herself doesn’t have a lot of power. I could barley sense it when we hung out.” Wynter rambled about what she knew, which honestly wasn’t a lot. Jiyeon had said that she was adopted and after some digging realized that her birth parents were shamans. She had confided in Wynter that she wanted to cultivate whatever magic she did have.

Magic was something that needed to be cultivated, practiced, and maintained, or it was lost. Which is way training usually started early. But depending on how strong your bloodline was you could cultivate at any age, it would just take more work.

Yoongi hummed and ran his hand through his hair. If what Wynter was saying was true than this girl shouldn’t have been able to place this curse. Though it could also just be beginners luck. “Okay. I’ll look into it. In the mean time you go about like nothing is wrong if you run into her. Were you able to find anything yesterday?”

Taking another swig of her tea. Wynter could feel her body starting to feel lighter, her mama’s tea working. “Um, no. All the books in the store are rudimentary at best. I’ll have to look through Joon’s personal collection in the back if I want to find any info of use.”

Yoongi still didn’t like the shaman that Wynter worked for. Still hadn’t ruled him out for trying to kill her but if he expected her to trust him he’d need to extend that same courtesy to her judgment as well. “Okay. Just don’t tell him what’s going on.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Wynter said as she downed the rest of her tea and finished getting ready. Throwing on a bright yellow sundress since it was sunny and warm outside. The yellow popped against her skin making the brown deeper and richer like velvet. The low cut neckline made her boobs look great and gave the allusion that they were probably bigger than they actually were. The hem falling a little below her knee. Her mama always told her that if she didn’t feel good, at least look good. It’ll trick you into thinking that you’re fine. Now was that good advice. Probably not but it worked for Wynter.

When she walked out of the bathroom Yoongi felt that pull in is chest again. She looked absolutely delectable. He felt his mouth water as he watched her put her bag together and throw her sandals on. Her curls hung in loose coils around her head, trailing down until about mid back. “Let me walk you to work.” Yoongi languidly got off the couch. For some reason he did not want to be out of her presence just yet.

“You don’t need too.” She shook her head and walked out the door, with Yoongi trailing after her. “Don’t you have to go and spy on Jiyeon?” Wynter playfully whispered as she made her way out of the apartment building.

She was right. He should get started on figuring out what Jiyeon was up to but he also wanted to hold on to what little time he had left with Wynter this morning. No, that’s not why he was following her. He was just making sure that his “investment” made it to work in one piece. He needed to keep that distinction straight in his head. He would check back in with her later that day. Probably grab another coffee at the cafe across from the store. To make sure that she doesn’t get herself killed.

Wynter walked stealing little glances at the pale demon who was clearly having some intense internal monologue. While his face remained pretty passive, he had a small twitch in his right eye that was giving him away. She figured he didn’t even realized he had the tell. “I’ll try to be back around lunch. Try not to die.” That was all he said before he disappeared into the ether.

The rest of her walk went by without incident and when she made her way into the shop there were a few patrons milling about. Namjoon was over by one of the bookcases restocking the shelves. Wynter was gonna leave him to his own devices until she saw the look of clear confusion on his face. She placed her tote in the little space under the counter. “You look like you’re solving the world toughest problem over here.” She walked around some of the smaller shelves over to him.

“I feel like I am. Is there a reason-” Namjoon turned around and let his sentence trail off. His mouth hung slightly open as Wynter tried to watch him reboot his brain.

“Is there a reason why what?” Wynter suppressed her laugh as Namjoon clicked his mouth shut and cleared his throat. Pushing up his glasses he turned around and grabbed the tablet with the spreadsheet of the shops stock.

“Why are these not in alphabetical order. It’s impossible to figure out where any of these books go.”

“Well, Boss Man Namjoon, you said and I quote ‘No one knows who any of these authors are they just know what they’re looking for’” Wynter dropped her voice and did her best impression of Namjoon. He stared at her owlishly from behind his glasses.

“First off, I do not sound like that.” He pouted while Wynter laughed at him. “Second off, how do you even know where to place things.”

Still laughing Wynter just grabbed the book from Namjoon's hands and began shelving. “Just go back to your hideout and make potions. Leave the front of the house to me.” Wynter began shelving the books that he had placed on the cart easily. Her slender hands making quick work of the clearly offensive books categorized by topic. With her back facing him, Wynter missed the fondness and longing the filled Namjoon’s eyes at her referring to the shop so familiarly.

Her yellow dress swished around her as she went about helping costumers and cleaning. Wynter had never been more thankful to her mama then at this moment cause she felt nothing like she did when she woke up. Full of too much energy for how slow today seemed to be. While that meant she had enough downtime to go pursue the shelfs in Namjoon’s backroom. She was still trying to find a viable way get back there without drawing suspicion.

The door bell chimed as she was on the ladder stocking the top shelves. “Noona!” Taehynug’s baritone voice called out over the low hum of the desk fan Wynter had on. He bounded over to her his chocolate hair flopping around him. “Hyung, said that you weren’t feeling well! You shouldn’t be up that high.”

He stared up at her with his puppy eyes, big and round in concern. Scoffing, Wynter continued to work. “You worry to much, Tae. I’m fine. Just hot.” The day had gotten increasingly hotter as it progressed, the large storm from the past two days making Seoul feel like a sauna. She wiped some sweat from her brow, suddenly regrating wearing her hair down. The curls clinging to the sweat slick skin on her back.

“I worry the perfect amount. Jin hyung is the one the worried too much.” Wynter hummed in agreement as she made her way down the ladder. Tae held out his arm for her to grab onto as she took the last few steps. “He’s been making you his famous get well soup all morning. Been fussing over it not being right.”

Wynter wasn’t surprised that Jin was making her something to eat. The oldest of the Kim’s was a master healer, much like her mama. Jin’s mode of choice was food that contained potent healing properties. He had really perfected the art, even opening up his own restaurant down the street. Namjoon excelled in many things but particularly spell work. He could generate a spell out of nothing, always pushing the boundaries of what is and what could be. Did it help that he was a magical prodigy who picked up on most things quickly? Probably. Taehyung, was a seerer, able to have prophetic visions. According to him some events and futures were set but most were in flux. He helped out a both of his older brothers places when he wasn’t painting murals or commission pieces.

She considered herself lucky to have found and been taken in by such a loving family. They treated her as one of there own. “Are you actually helping today or are you going to keep distracting me?” Wynter smirked as she walked over to plop in front of the fan, grabbing a wayward flyer to fan herself more.

I would never distract you, noona,” Tae feigned innocence as he came and pulled himself onto the counter.

“You’re brother doesn’t pay me to sit around and talk to you all day.” Tae furrowed his brows and looked around the empty shop.

“I can see you’re so busy today.” Laughing Wynter hit Tae in the arm with the flyer He clutched his shoulder pretending as if she had given him some grave wound. “Besides, Joon hyung would pay you for just -”

“Tae!” Namjoon stalked out of the backroom and up to his younger brother. “Stop harassing, Wynter.” Tae held his hands up in surrender as Namjoon’s ear began turning red. “I’m glad it’s slowed down so I could talk to you about why Taehyung is here.”

Wynter turned slightly to give Namjoon her full attention. Noticing that he had taken off his sweater and was only donning a thin white button up. “I didn’t want to worry you with it but a few days ago someone summoned a powerful demon.” Wynter hoped the deep breathe she took came off as anxiety about the big bad demon and not as anxiety about getting caught that it was her. “It’s nothing we can’t handle but we’re having a hard time tracking him. He seems to be highly guarded this time, but Tae has been able to track him to the area.” Tracking demons, was one of Taehyung's specialties, as he was able to catch glimpses of after images in time.

“I’m telling you this in case you come across him. I don’t want you to be unprepared and defenseless.” Wynter took in Namjoon’s demeanor and could see that he was really worried about this. She couldn’t tell him that said demon was living in her apartment and that he was “highly guarded” because of her protection wards. “I made you these.” He handed her some bottles filled with a thick green looking liquid. “It won’t do a lot but it’ll give you enough time to get to safety.”

Nodding, Wynter placed the small bottles in the pockets of her dress. It would be good to have them for later use. She still needed to find a way out of this contract after all was said and done with the Jiyeon situation. “Do you know who the demon is by any chance?” She tried to keep her voice as even as possible.

“Yeah,” Tae answered. “He’s name is Min Yoongi. He’s a nasty demon too.”

“Oh,” Wynter responded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Oh yeah. He was this tyrant king who was so powerful that it took our clan teaming up with three others to defeat him.” Wynter felt herself shiver at the thought. It took four powerful shaman clans to defeat him. It somehow didn’t surprise Wynter that he was a king, since he looked like he’d never heard the word no a day in his life. “He’s bloodthirsty, cruel, and a different level of evil altogether, so we’ll have to take out whoever summoned him too so they can’t do it again.”

Wynter knew that the brothers came from a long line of shamans. The knowledge from every generation was passed down to the next. Passing their memories and experiences down to the next set in order to keep the knowledge that they gained as pure as possible. Namjoon had explained it once. He had said that it was like looking through water. He could see everything his ancestors had been through, their love, their losses. It was a unique from of ancestor worship that the Kim clan had perfected. So if they had fought Yoongi before it meant that he was more powerful than Wynter gave him credit for. The Kim clan really only ever got involved with demons that threated the balance of good and evil in the world.

They were going to kill her. Literally and figuratively, when they found out. She was fucked either way. “But,” Namjoon cut Tae of before he could continue seemingly taking her spariling for fear. “We have it under control. With him only being in our realm for a short time he shouldn’t be at his full strength yet. So, please don’t worry too much about it. You’re too pretty for that,” he said softly as he moved a piece of her wayward hair out of her face.

“Yeah. I’m totally not worrying.” She said tersely as she fanned herself harder.

Yoongi had been trying to locate Jiyeon all day with no luck. He had tried the university where Wynter said she went and thought he caught a whiff of her essence but lost it. He knew what it he was looking for because all magic had a signature of whoever did it, no matter how rudimentary. What was irritating him was it was like as soon as he picked up on it and got close, the trail would slip through his fingers like smoke.

It felt as though he would make it to a place moments after she had left. If what Wynter said about Jiyeon’s power level was true then she should’ve been easy to track and locate. He’s found more powerful folks with less effort. Yoongi had been hopping across Seoul all day and was beginning to feel irate. He stood in a park next the the Han river. Watching as it meandered by slowly. It hadn’t really changed all that much from when he was ruler. A little ruddy, but that was it.

The breeze ruffled Yoongi’s black hair causing him to run his hand through it to tame the flyaways once again. He needed to think. If he couldn’t find Jiyeon then that meant that someone or something was protecting her. Another demon or entity more powerful than him, which was a small but scary list. Something about the whole thing felt off because even if that was the case why attack Wynter. He needed to figure out where and when this death curse came from so he could narrow down who all would be involved.

Yoongi inhaled at Han park and exhaled in front of an abandon monastery. The location was nestled deep within the Baekdu-daegan mountains in North Korea. The mountain range was known to pool massive amounts of spiritual power. There were many Buddist temples and monasteries along the range but Yoongi had discovered this one a few decade after becoming a demon.

As far as he knew he was the only one that knew about it and he wanted to keep it that way. Yoongi was sure that Jungsoo had his underlings looking for him. He honestly didn’t need the headache. The stone steps were eroded and beginning to crumple as he made his way up the large staircase. It was a long walk but not too difficult, he couldn’t just apparate into the place itself as the Buddist monks had done an excellent job of putting up a barrier that lasted long after they had died.

The wooded door opened with a loud creak as he slipped inside the long abandon halls. He made quick work of making his way to the library and going through the ancient scrolls. The only sound filling the space was the rustling of parchment and the wind coming in through the cracks. He was looking for any information that fit the bill for this death curse.

Yoongi had seen his fair shares of death curse, and delt them out. They ranged in effects but were pretty fast moving. Draining the victim of their life essence through fear or brute force. From causing the victims to go mad and kill themselves, to creating vivid hallucinations of their worst nightmares, to causing a physical malice that ended in a horrible and painful death. Either was it was a shitty way to go. He had never come across or even seen the one that Wynter had.

At the end of the day with folks who possessed magic a death curse would kill them, as well as destroy whatever magic they had. Tossing it into the void to be dispersed and reconfigured into later generations. It was complicated and many beings, including demons had me trying for millenniums to beat the system with deadly results. But someone had figured it out. The curse that Wynter had was not just killing her but filling her up. Pushing her soul out until whatever could inhabit her vessel. Keeping her magic in tact.

Yoongi had to give it to whoever created the curse, it was innovative and good. Definitely not the work of a beginning practicineer. He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the scrolls. He wasn’t really getting anywhere just that it had to be a combination of two separate curses, but which combination was the problem. The ancient script on the scroll he was reading was beginning to run together. He was about to chuck it into the ever growing pile of useless shit that was behind him, until her saw something that made him pause.

While rare it is possible for demons who were once humans to develop latent soul bonds that should have been formed in their lifetime.

Yoongi readjusted himself at the stone table so that he could study the writing better.

These bonds can be anything from parent to child, eternal enemies, eternal friends, but the most common form we see this happen with are soulmates. Humans who became demons renounce these soul bonds in order to tap into demonic power which is void of these bonds. Though if a bond is strong enough it can be reformed when the two are in proximity to each other. These bonds will feel distinct from contractual bonds that demons make with humans.

Soulmates. Yoongi fell back in the chair in disbelief. He had made his fair share of bonds in his lifetime as a demon. They all usually felt the same. Soft and brittle forged from the fleeting expectations that comes with the contract. Always sat in his stomach for some strange reason. But the bond her had with Wynter was solid. It filled him with warmth and hope, and it was bright. If he really concentrated he could see the little golden string that bounded them together in the ether as it came out of his heart.

Yoongi didn’t have a soul so it shouldn’t even be possible, but still. He rubbed the offending part of his chest, willing the connection to tamper down. “Is there a reason you’re here in this dump?” The sound of Hosek echoed through this temple. He was walking through the door and towards Yoongi. His bright red hair and equally as colorful outfit standing out against the dark room.

Rubbing his eyes, Yoongi sat back up in his seat. “Trying to get some piece a quiet clearly. How did you even find me?” Yoongi knew those wards were tough so he was honestly a bit concerned the Hobi had found him so quickly.

Sitting on the bench across from him Hobi simply shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “I’m always gonna find you, bro. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your grumpy eternal life.” Yoongi just rolled his eyes. Hobi had been his head general, as well as his closest friend, when Yoongi was king. He had followed behind Yoongi without questions becoming a demon, along with two other men of his trusted inner circle.

“I wanted to give you a report on what’s been happening. I’ve been able to round almost a legion of demons to fight. Jungkook almost half a legion. Jimin is having some problems with Shindong in the south but for the most part he’s holding his own.” Hobi waited for Yoongi to respond but when all the former king did was stare at the table he continued.

“ We have almost ten thousands demons backing us. We’ve been trying to keep things as quiet as possible for planning but Jungsoo has his bitches attacking us from every direction. He’s sent Eunhyuk and Heechul to search for you. What are your orders?”

Letting out a deep sigh Yoongi ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t want this. Any of this. In no way, shape, or form did he want to lead this rebellion. He truly just wanted to get out from under Jungsoo, the current king in the underworld, thumb. Didn't realize that everyone shared that same thought. “I don’t know. Why don’t you lead it? You seem to have everything under control.”

“Because you’re my king and where you lead I follow.”

“Hobi.” Yoongi sighed. “I haven’t been your king for over a three centuries. I keep telling you that we’re equals at this point.” Hobi just leveled a stare at Yoongi. His lips pulled down into a frown. Yoongi knew that he was going to get nowhere with this conversation anytime soon. With resigned breathe Yoongi ran his hand down his face. “Look, continue what you’re doing. We’ll need to have as many demons as we can on our side if we even have a chance at winning this. Also, tell Jimin to lead Shindong to Solar’s realm. I believe that she has a bone to pick with Shindong anyway so she’ll be able to help.”

Humming, Hobi nodded in agreement. “What are you doing anyway?” He looked at all the scrolls that were surrounding Yoongi. Pulling another scroll over the one he was reading about soul bonds, Yoongi cleared his throat.

“I took a contract.” Hobi raised an eyebrow for Yoongi to continue. “Some foreigner accidentally summoned me to remove a death curse. I was going to just leave her but saw her magic and I’ve never seen it before. Figured it could be useful to fight Jungsoo.” What he said was true, for the most part. Yoongi went on to explain the death curse and why he was looking at all the scrolls.

“I’ll keep an ear out for who’s experimenting with curses.” Hobi said. Yoongi’s shoulders sagged in relief. Hobi was great at gathering intel which was what made him Yoongi’s best general. “What’s her power?”

“I’m unsure, honestly. It’s dark in nature, like it’s absorbing light and energy around it. I haven’t gotten to see her use it in person.” Yoongi mumbled. “From what I can tell she doesn’t seem to want to use it or is scared of it.” Yoongi thought back to the dinner that they had and how Wynter’s brain went silent at the mention of failing her test. He figured it had something to do with her power.

“Okay. I’ll leave you to you’re precious alone time and research. Be on the look out for those two assholes.” Hobi waved has he apparated out of the library leaving Yoongi in silence once again.

Wynter closed the shop up while Namjoon and Tae worked in the backroom trying to come up with a game plan to find Yoongi. It was still wild to her that they knew who Yoongi was. She needed to boost up the wards at the apartment so she could keep him hidden for a bit longer. Wynter really hated having to lie and hide things for Namjoon. It felt like a betrayal, even though she did not mean to summon a demon as powerful as Yoongi.

She still had to get to the books that Namjoon had tonight. She couldn’t afforded to lose another day of research because she was scared Namjoon would see through whatever lie she came up with. As Wynter cleaned she did her best to hype herself up to talk to Namjoon. The sun was just beginning to set casting a orange hue within the shop by the time she had finished. After making sure everything was straight she ventured back towards his workspace. Knocking twice on the wooden doorframe, Wynter heard Namjoon let out a low “mmm” signaling that he was listening as he worked on a potion with Tae.

Tae gave her small smile as walked in. They looked exhausted from working on this. “Is there a way I can borrow one of your books, Joon?” He looked up from whatever he was concentrating on to look at her. She swayed on the balls of her feet, hands clasped behind her back as she waited for his answer.

“Yeah,” he says curiously. “Are you looking for books that will be helpful for controlling your power?”

“No.” Wynter tone was clipped as she forced a smile on her face. “Um, no. I don’t think I’m quite ready to deal with that yet.” Both Namjoon and Tae’s face morphed into ones of pity. It made Wynter’s skin crawl know that they pitied her and her fear of her power, but if they knew what it could do they’d be scared of it too. “It actually has to do with that dream I had a few days ago. It’s just stayed with me you know.” She tried to sound as non chalant as she browsed through one of Namjoons many shelves.

“Dream?” Tae’s interest was piqued. He was great at dream interpretation.

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered. “She mentioned it two days ago.” Wynter could see the wheels in Namjoon’s head turning. Making connections. “What was your dream about again?”

He sat down the vial that was in his hand on the table, giving her his full attention. She started out slowly trying to piece together the right words to not alert Namjoon or Tae. “In it I was in a really dark room lying on the floor and there was a figure standing over me. It became really hard to breathe like my lungs were collapsing in on themselves, honestly it felt as though my whole body was being crushed and pulled apart at the same time.”

Now that Wynter was recounting it she felt as though her body was reliving the trauma. “It was so hot, it felt like my blood was boiling out of me. I could even feel blood coming out of my mouth and ears and eyes. It –” Wynter felt her throat begin to close as the room begin to close in on her, fading to black along the edges of her vision. She didn’t even notice that Namjoon had stopped working all together and was standing in front of her, trying to get her to refocus, or Tae frantically searching for something on the shelves of potions.

She didn’t even notice that blood had began to drip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “Hey hey hey,” Namjoon spoke softly. “Wynter can you hear me? Wynter I need you to look. Baby, I need you to focus on me.” She could barely hear him through the ringing in her ears. Wynter could see his eyes franticly searching hers as she tried to focus like he was asking her.

Looking at his lips she could see that his was saying something but the ringing kept getting louder until suddenly it stopped, and Namjoon can into focus. The chocolate eyes searching hers, to make sure that she was with him. The fear that his gaze held scared her. “Namjoon, I don’t feel good.”

#bts x reader #bts smut #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x black reader

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rocksandrobots · 1 year ago

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PotP Ch 52 - Christmas With The Krampus: Part 1

Madame Canardist blew out the last of the candles and placed the antique decorations into a cardboard box. The silvery glint of the ornament caught the eye of the chimpanzee next to her and he 'oohed' with interest.

"Here Vigor, be a dear and put this in the back with the others." She sweetly called out to her pet.

The monkey grabbed the box and dutifully waddled his way to the storage room in the back of the shop as Cardanist finished cleaning up from the celebrations of a long forgotten holiday. Even in their own world, the festival of stars was a dying tradition, as there was no longer a people to carry on the old ways.

Canardist still did. She still remembered all that her parents had taught her, the same as their parents had taught them. How knowledge of the heavens and the secrets in its patterns could protect the world, or, in her case, worlds.

She frowned as she picked up a tattered scroll. However, unlike stars, knowledge was not forever. It had to be preserved and passed down in order to continue.

Canardist never did find an apprentice to teach. She had vaguely hoped one of the younglings of this universe would take interest... but no one took magic seriously here.

And then there was the matter of Vigor.... there would be no guardian to care for him once she was gone. She was the last who knew his secret.

Not for the first time she contemplated packing up and starting anew somewhere else... or even returning to their home plane... but there was still the prophecy to fulfill. Things had been set into motion and they needed to stay to play their part.

As she paused in her clean up to read the scroll again, Vigor was unsteadily climbing a footstool, box still in hand. He stood on tip toe on one foot as he precariously balanced himself in order to push the box on to an empty space on a higher shelf.

His other foot swayed with the exertion and accidentally tipped over what looked like a snow globe.

Canardist heard the glass shatter. She flung the scroll down and ran to the back, even as Vigor's terrified screams grew louder.

"Vigor!" She yelled, but her voice was drowned out by an unnatural wind that swirled through the air of her little store; knocking over antiques, books, and ingredients for spells.

Then the wind died as suddenly as it had started.

Canardist screamed as something monstrous, tall, and hairy, wrapped a clawed hand around Vigor.

Fright was replaced by anger.

"Let go of him you big galoot!" and hurled a book at the creature. Only to be pushed away by a muscular arm. The breath was knocked out of her as she went flying into the bookshelves behind her.

She heard Vigor howling with fright as lumbering footsteps shook the floor.

She looked up just in time to see the door of her shop being ripped off his hinges.

"Vigor!" she cried out again as her beloved pet was stolen away by the mysterious monster.

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

"Who wants peppermint hot chocolate?"

The various party goers swarmed around Aunt Cass as she handed out the festive refreshments.

She was just handing the last mugs to Carl and Globby when a knock came at the back door.

She excused herself and ran back to the kitchen as she overheard Noodle Burger Boy telling the rest of the kids about their recent holiday vacation.

"Feliz navidad!" Cruz yelled as soon as she opened the door.

He was wearing a ridiculous sweater with a reindeer knitted on it and holding a piece of mistletoe over his head.

Poor Megan gave an embarrassed grin beside him. "Hi Miss Cass." She greeted before running past her and ducking into the dinning room with her gift.

Cassidy purposefully ignored the mistletoe and moved to grab the tupperware container under Cruz's arm instead.

"Oh you brought the popcorn to string! Thank you!"

Cruz couldn't help but look a little put out as she started to hurry from the kitchen.

"Ah-ahem." He coughed, and held the mistletoe up higher. "That's not all I brought."

Cass feigned ignorance. "Oh the decoration... yes.... ummm... just put it up anywhere."

Cruz sighed with frustration as she left, and then hung the mistletoe over the door mantle.

He'll have to try again later... when she was less busy.

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

*clink*, *clink,* *clink.*

Honey Lemon rapped the side of the coffee cup with a spoon to gain everyone's attention. She stood behind the cash counter as Baymax turned down the holiday music that had been playing. The various conversations stalled around the room as all turned to look at her.

"It's so great to see that everyone could make it tonight, and now that we're all here, it's time for the gift exchange! The rules are simple. We're going to pull names out of a hat. When your name is called you'll come up and pick out your present, and once you open it you gotta guess who gave it to you."

"If you guess right, you'll get a sticker. If you guess wrong, then the rest of the party gets to guess and have a chance to win the sticker themselves. The person with the most stickers at the end of the night gets a prize!"

"Do we get to guess ourselves?" Megan cheekily called out from the back.

"No, but you can try to fool the other people guessing." Honey Lemon answered, then she turned to a man dressed in a tux standing over in the corner. "Heathcliff, will you do the honors?"

"Yes, Miss Lemon." He gave a little nod of his head and pulled a slip of paper out of a top hat. "Mr. Wasabi"

Wasabi got up and Honey Lemon handed him a broad rectangular package with his name on the tag.

He carefully began to untape the snowman themed wrapping paper.

"Oh come on, just rip it off!" Juniper yelled at him.

"And tear the paper!?" He asked, aghast. "Please, we aren't animals here people."

And with that he finished pulling off the last bit of tape. He gasped in delight at what he found.

"OOOHHH! Personalized Labels!!!" He hugged the folder full of stickers to him. "With my name on them and everything.... Ooo, ooo, and look! They're even categorized by function! Storage, food, folder tabs!"

"So who do you think is your secret santa?" Tadashi asked.

"Hmmmm..... Honey Lemon? You're the sticker fanatic around here. Was it you?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, I got someone else."

"Sam!?... You know me better than anyone."

"Hey, you can't guess twice!" Karmi complained.

"Sorry again, Wasabi, but Karmi's right. Who else thinks they know who Wasabi's secret santa is!?"

Trina timidly raised her hand. "It was NB. That's the same wrapping paper Globby bought for our gifts."

"That's right!" Noodle Burger Boy shouted as he jumped from his chair. "I'm the bestest gift giver ever!"

He opened his mouth and more printed stickers streamed out like ticker tape. He then handed this to Wasabi.

"Merry Christmas Wasabi, and a Happy New Year!"

Wasabi took the hamburger themed stickers in surprise. "I never would have guessed.... but, come to think of it, the french fries shaped ones probably have tipped me off. Thank you NB."

As Wasabi took his seat again, Heathcliff called out the next name. "A Mr. Stu..."

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

Cruz saw this as his chance. As the kids played their game, he brushed down his sweater, made sure there were no crumbs on his mustache, and walked over to Cass who was watching the game with interest.

"Oh, how cute. Juniper and Stu got each other in the Secret Santa exchange." She said as he neared.

Cruz turned to see the former criminal, face practically hidden in the giant scarf and hat he'd just received, get down on one knee to present his present to his sweetheart. Juniper screamed with delight when she saw the ring.

As everyone clapped to congratulate the happy couple Cruz couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "A little young aren't they?"

"Oh, plenty of people get married in college." Cass dismissed. "You and Maria did."

"Yeah and look how well that turned out." Cruz couldn't help but mutter. Cass put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but still gave him a long, suffering look.

"Now that was long after college… besides you gotta let them figure it out. Live their own lives. And who knows, it might actually work out for them?"

She shrugged and then grabbed a tub full of dirty cups. As she made her way back to the kitchen as the next name was called out.

"Mr. Fred."

Cruz didn't pay any attention as the Fredericksons' boy walked up to get his present. He was too busy following Cass.

"So what about you?" He asked as he entered the back room.

"What about me?" She asked, confused.

"When are you going to settle down?"

Cass could barely contain her laughter. "Me, marry?" She shook her head in answer.

"What's so inconceivable about that?" Cruz chuckled.

"For starters, I'm not interested in marrying anyone, and secondly, who needs it? Oh, no offense to anyone who would want to… It's just… You don't have to go through all the trouble just to be with someone."

Cruz nodded his head in consideration. "I can see where you're coming from… but you've nothing against dating, then."

She shrugged again as she finished placing the last coffee cup in the dishwasher. "Dating's fine."

"Would you wanna go on a date with me?"

Aunt Cass froze in mid-action as she rubbed her hands with a dish towel.

The still running faucet was the only sound in the kitchen as the awkward silence filled the room.

Chief Cruz gave an awkward cough to gently nudge the conversation along.

"Ummm..." She finally hummed.

"'Ummm' isn't really in answer." Cruz nervously laughed.

"Weeeellll..." Cass squeaked instead, and Cruz frowned. That was an even less encouraging response.

"It's just..." She stumbled a third time. "I... I'm kind of seeing someone else right now."

"Oh." Cruz deflated, but quickly recovered. "Well serves me right for waiting too long. Who's the lucky guy?"

He could see Cass squirm even more as she thought of an answer.

"Well, umm, you two do know each other… and he's in his 40s… he's tall a-and he umm… oh.."

"Just spit it out Cassidy."

"It's Alister." She quickly mumbled and ran from the kitchen.

Cruz stood stunned for a moment as he tried to figure out who 'Alister' was… then it donned on him.

"Keri!?"

He stormed after Aunt Cass as she tried to distract by handing out more appetizers.

"Anyone for some pigs in a blanket?"

"Cass…"

"Thumbprint cookies?"

No one took up her offer, as everyone paused in their game.

"Cassidy."

"I'll go make some more coco then."

She dodged her best friend and ran back to the kitchen with the food. Cruz followed.

"You're dating Keri!?'

"Well, he's really been putting in an effort lately and…"

"And we've talked about this Cass. He's not any good for you."

"Oh and who are you to tell me who's right for me or not!?" Anger replacing her guilt.

"You dumped him for a reason, remember?"

"Yes, I do remember, and so does he, and he's been putting in the effort to change."

Cruz rolled his eyes. "Guys like that don't change Cass. You know that."

"Why do you always expect the worst of people?" She sighed.

"Because I don't want my best friend to be taken advantage of!"

Aunt Cass could only laugh at that.

"Diego, we're not in high school any more. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but I don't trust him."

"Then why not be an actual friend and trust me ."

Cruz frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I trust you."

Cass only folded her arms and gave him a purposeful look.

"Okay… so I'm a little protective sometimes, b-but that's only because I care-"

The expression didn't change on her face.

Cruz sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll respect your decision to date Keri."

"Thank you."

"And when it all falls apart again, you still got me as a shoulder to cry on and for a good 'I told you so'."

Cass rolled her eyes at the joke, but could dismiss the smile off her face.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." She chuckled as she gave him a hug.

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

The Gift Exchange had ended and the party guests were now milling around, eating the rest of the food, and conversing. A few were dancing in the corner as Minimax played DJ, blaring out those catchy Christmas tunes that Varian had heard on a loop for a month now wherever he went.

Christmastide was indeed an important festival season in Corona as well, but Americans really upped the ante when it came to the holiday. Instead of just being twelve days of feasting, the US started celebrations an entire month before the first actual holy day came to pass.

It was exciting and exhausting all at once. So many new traditions, so many lights, so many new foods to try, and not a single boring church service in sight! But after you heard "Jingle Bells" for the thousandth time, well, the 'Christmas Spirit' started to lose its appeal somewhat.

"So when's your flight?" He overheard Hiro ask Wasabi.

"Five in the morning," Wasabi groaned.

"We should be at Mom's in time for Christmas Dinner." Sam added.

"You know I could always just open a portal to Hawaii for you." Varian offered, adding himself to the conversation.

Wasabi turned the offer down. "No thanks. I would prefer not to give my future in-laws a heart attack upon first meeting them."

Tadashi raised an eyebrow, "In-laws?"

Wasabi froze.

"In-laws?" Sam echoed, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Ummm… I just… I just meant… hypothetically… you know… in case… this works out… long term, I mean…. Hey, weren't we going to decorate the tree?"

Wasabi ducked out the group and ran over to the other side of the room where Karmi, Fred, and Baymax were already hanging homemade paper decorations onto a plastic tree.

Sam and Tadashi shared a laugh and went over to join them.

Varian was about to follow when he heard some call his name.

"Hey V, can ya help me with this?"

It was Carol. She was covered in stickers and juggling several gift baskets that she had won in the games.

Hiro beat him to it.

"I got it." He took one of the baskets. "Boy you racked up?"

"I know, right!? This is going to feed me all through the next week… I just need to make sure none of the other girls find my stash. Now where were those leftovers?"

"You're not going home for the holiday?" Varian asked as he handed her the goody bag that Aunt Cass had made earlier.

Carol shook her head. "No, it's too far and tickets are too expensive… and I also don't want you giving Grandma a heart attack with those mad scientist portals if yours."

Varian rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone think people will get heart attacks from my portals?"

"Well, we do need to work out the kinks some." Hiro admitted. "You want some help carrying all this out?

"Oh would you? That's awfully sweet. Fred is giving me a lift back home, and I think Heathcliff parked the car on the corner."

"No problem…." He said as he readjusted the baskets and followed her out the door.

"So umm… What exactly did Karmi say to you when you helped her pick out my gift?" Varian overheard his brother whisper as he and Carol left.

Carol had apparently helped a lot of people pick out their gifts for the Secret Santa. That was how she won the guessing game portion of the gift exchange.

Karmi had gotten Hiro, and Varian could tell that his little brother was desperate to know if the handmade keychain from his crush meant anything deeper.

That reminded Varian… he hadn't seen his own crush in awhile…

He walked over to where everyone was dancing. Stu and Juniper were lost in each other's eyes, Heathcliff was, surprisingly, twirling Barb around, Gogo had graciously agreed to a dance with Mole… provided that he stuck to the six foot rule, and Carl and Globby were slow-waltzing in the corner… Minimax wasn't even playing a slow song at the moment.

Varian scanned the small scene before him but he didn't see the pretty redhead. In fact he didn't see her anywhere.

That's when he spotted Megan and Trina off to the side. They were giggling over something.

"Hey… have you seen Honey Lemon?"

Both girls stalled, and Varian got the distinct feeling that he had just interrupted something.

"Umm… I think she went into the kitchen?" Megan guessed.

"She said something about how her brother was going to be here soon." Trina added. "I think she went out to wait for him."

"Thanks… oh and thanks for the gift by the way."

"I'm glad you like it." Trina replied. "You are the hardest person to shop for, you know."

"Well you did an excellent job. Who else would think of a recipe journal?"

Megan disagreed. "I think Minimax has the hardest pick… what on earth do you get for Mole? He already has everything?"

Trina shrugged. "A signed autograph from Boss Awesome apparently."

"What was it that you got again?" Varian asked.

Trina's face lit up and she excitedly showed him the guitar pick on a string around her neck. "It's a limited edition Mind Smith Turbo collector item!" She turned towards Megan. "I don't know how you ever found this."

"Ah, it was easy. I just had to go scrounging around AuctionBay. What I can't believe is that Carol found my gift at a thrift store for only five bucks. It's a genuine Noir jacket. Those are like five hundred dollars off the rack! We have got to go bargain hunting as a band more often."

Varian backed away slowly. "Yeeeeaaaah when I hear the words, "bargain hunting", I know it's time for me to dip out."

"Just because you don't have any taste!" Megan joked.

"Let us save you from your poor sense of fashion!" Trina called after him.

"I'm good!" He yelled over his shoulder as he ran away.

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

Varian found Honey Lemon in the kitchen leaning against the door frame. She was looking at the bracelet he had given to her, examining its details while a smile played on her lips.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

She looked up in surprise, having not noticed his presence before, but quickly recovered.

"Oh I adore it. Where did you get it?"

"I made it." He beamed.

"Really!? It's beautiful...and I love that it's rose gold! Oh and all the little flowers! You know, you have a real talent... this is art."

"Ahh, I don't about that." Varian sheepishly shrugged off the complement, but then more seriously, he said. "But when I got your name for the gift exchange, I knew I had to give you something special."

He reached out and grabbed her hand. Honey Lemon blushed, but didn't pull away. She did however try to change the subject.

"What does the inscription say?" She asked, pointing to the engraving written in the band of gold.

"Alles Liebe."

"Alles Liebe." She echoed, not quite getting the pronunciation as well as he did. "Is that German or Russian?"

"German. It's a common saying in Corona, something you might write on a gift tag or at the end of a letter... it's short for 'to you, with lots of love' or 'with all my love'.

Honey Lemon felt herself blushing even more. As was pointed out, it wasn't uncommon to put well wishes on a present, but something about the way Varian said it, the way it was so delicately and thoughtfully etched into the glinting metal, and the fact that it was told in a language that no one else they knew spoke, made it seem more romantic... like a secret that was only shared between them.

Varian took her other hand in his, and her pulse quickened. She racked her brain looking for another excuse to change the conversation, but found none.

Why did she want to anyways? Not when he was staring at her intently with those piercing blue eyes of his, or when he was leaning closer to... to what exactly?

Honey Lemon never got her answer, for no sooner did she close her eyes and tilted her head towards him, lips parted, heart pounding her ears as she desperately hoped he understood the clear hint she was giving him, then did Karmi hurried into the room.

"I'll get it! it's near th-... oh!"

Both teens immediately jumped away from each other upon the intrusion.

Karmi seemed embarrassed, as Honey Lemon plastered on a fake smile and Varian avoided eye contact.

"Sorry... I just came in here to get the popcorn." She awkwardly said as she picked up a tupperware container on the counter. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Just go back to doing what you were doing, and I'm going to get out here."

"Oh we weren't up to anything... I'm just waiting for my brother to pick me up."

Karmi clearly didn't believe Honey Lemon's protest, as she gave them both a skeptic look. Then in reply, all she did was point upwards.

Honey Lemon and Varian looked up in response and saw the small bouquet of bright green leaves.

"Oh..." was all Honey Lemon said, and Karmi gave them both a smirk as she left the room.

Honey Lemon and Varian both made a point not to look at each other even after the other girl had gone.

"S-Sooo... you have mistletoe here too, huh?" Varian finally asked, trying to brush aside the awkwardness.

"Hmm, hmm." Honey Lemon hummed in response, still choosing to play with the tip of her hair then to look at him.

"Does it work the same way in Fansokyo as it does in Corona?"

"I... I think so... Do you... do you ... you know..."

"Kiss? ... Yeah."

"Then yeah... it- it's the same here." She placed her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her heels, still trying to find some other place to look, any place other than his hypnotizing eyes.

He also looked around desperately trying to find anything else to talk about... seconds slipped past and he began to tap his foot impatiently.

They were doing it again... avoiding their feelings…

Screw it... Just ask her!

He shut his eyes tight. "Do... do you wan---"

*HONK*

A loud car horn interrupted him.

Both teens poked their head out of the door and saw an old, beat up pick-up truck parked in the street out front.

A young man, close to their own age, was sitting in the driver seat. He honked the horn again upon seeing them.

"Oh it's Carlos!" Honey Lemon explained, as she ran back inside to grab her purse. "Mama's expecting us for Mass tonight, so we need to get on the road."

Varian however could only look on helplessly as he saw his chance slipping away from him yet again.

"Oh... well.. I hope you have a nice time then... Drive safe," was all he could muster.

Suddenly, Honey Lemon was by his side, a tender hand on his arm.

"I really do love my gift."

"I'm glad. Merry Christmas." He smiled back, and then, to his surprise, she kissed him! Right on the cheek!

It was just a quick peck. Nothing you could call romantic, but it left him in awe nonetheless, as he dumbly watched her run over to the parked car.

"Bye. Merry Christmas!" She yelled back. She turned to see him standing in the doorway with a stunned smile on his lips.

Her heart pounded in her ears even louder. She couldn't believe what she had just done.

It was the mistletoe. She told herself. It's tradition. It didn't mean anything.

She hopped into the seat on the passenger side and her brother gave her the most infuriatingly smug look.

"¿Ese es el chico que te gustaba?" He asked.

"Cállate" was all she said to him, then she poked her head out the window again as her brother cranked the car, laughing to himself while doing so. She ignored him.

"I'll see you next week!" She waved at Varian as the truck pulled away.

Varian's dumbstruck smile only grew wider as he waved after the receding vehicle. Soon that smile turned into a giggle, which turned into a laugh, which finally ended in a whopping holler of exuberant elation as he punched the air and spun around yelling "yes" frantically in the empty alley.

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

Hiro stretched and yawned as he turned down the sheets on his bed.

"So what time are you waking us up tomorrow?" he heard his brother say. He looked over to find Tadashi already snuggling under the covers of his own bed.

"Six, four… two in the morning? Just remember you gotta give Santa time to actually deliver the presents first." he chuckled at his own joke.

Hrio rolled his eyes. "I'm not eight. I'll probably sleep in tomorrow. So don't you wake me up early for Krei's burnt waffles... or whatever he's making in the morning."

"Knowing him, he'll probably bring over a whole catering service rather than cook."

"On Christmas?"

Tadashi shrugged. "Not everyone closes on Christmas. Maybe we'll have Indian curry for breakfast, who knows?"

Hiro shook his head. "I can't believe Aunt Cass invited him to celebrate with us."

Tadashi yawned. "Face it Hiro... the heart wants what the heart wants."

"Yeah, and they also say that the heart is stupid and love is blind." But he never got a reply back as Tadashi was already asleep.

He shook his head and went over to Baymax's battery case to see if it was hooked into the computer properly. The faithful robot was already powered down and his memory banks for the week were steadily up loading to the storage base.

That was when Hiro heard the low growl behind him.

He froze and out of the corner of his eye he saw something dark and menacing looming in the window.

Were those red eyes he saw?

He quickly spun around to catch whatever it was that was trying to climb into his room, only to see a flurry of claws and a swishing tail hauling it itself up to the roof.

He ran to the window sill, hopped up on his bed, and pushed the window open.

Cold air hit him in the face but he ignored it as he leaned out as far as he dared in order to look up at where the creature had gone. All he saw however was the clear sky and the bright full moon.

He looked back to his brother but Tadashi was already soundly snoring. He clearly hadn't heard anything.

He heard another clatter, this time coming from below. He peered down into the alley, but it was only Mochi rummaging in the trash.

He saw a light stream out into the dark as someone opened the back kitchen door and he heard his aunt call the cat back inside.

Hiro shook his head for being so silly and closed the window.

Of course there wasn't any monstrous beast lurking in alleyways. All his time superheroing had made him jumpy.

Then again....

Hiro spared one glance back at the window.

Still nothing.

Shoving the gnawing pit in his stomach down, Hiro finally crawled into bed.

He was asleep in minutes and therefore he never noticed the glowing red eyes that continued to watch him through the window.

#big hero 6 #bh6 the series #hiro hamada #varian #varian tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled #honey lemon #aunt cass #wasabi #krampus

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