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movedyourchair505 · 3 years ago

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Sono Tuo

if mafia bad, why hot?

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The sound of the needle rattling seemed louder than the melody it drew from the record spinning across the room, despite the ceiling fan spinning right above her head, her face felt hot, her fingers were tense, she did not want to touch anything, felt everything was restrictive, had taken off the dress she'd been wearing for half the day and was now sat anxiously on the bed in her underwear, for some reason still felt too warm as she waited, impatient, on edge.

It wasn't the initial panic the morning after that had pushed her over the edge, not the strange sensation in her abdomen, not the craving of food Alexander had had that she usually did not need him to share, not even the irregular change in cycle. But less than an hour had passed since she had returned from the bathroom, glad Alexander had already gone that morning and not witnessed anything. She'd brushed her teeth now, but the tears of discomfort and fear had not stopped coming every now and then, even now she was still on the verge, checked her phone again for an update from Miles. The consideration of who to ask had been brief, she knew that no member of security would make sense, she could not safely assume that not everything she required would somehow, soon, reach Alexander. And, as she had already guessed, no one would see or suspect anything if she merely called Miles, even if he had to go to a pharmacy, though it'd turned out he kept an abundance of tests at his apartment. She did, however, not feel like she could go there now, though was starting to regret that decision, as the waiting was slowly driving her mad, at least a short journey would have been a distraction.

She jumped when the door clicked open, Helders coming into view, though diverting his gaze. "Kane's here."

"Fookin'ell, she's expectin' me."

"I am..." Jade said, her voice quieter than anticipated, and she only dropped the tension in her shoulder when the door fell shut again. "He's going to tell him."

"Tell him wha'?" Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That I'm fucking crying," Jade snapped, rising from the bed and holding her hand out impatiently in front of him.

"'e didn't see..."

Her eyes darkened and she watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his white suit jacket.

"I didn't fink tha' ya..."

Her fingers closed around the box, but she waited, kept her eyes on his. "That I what?"

"Be... so... I mean... ya dun't want... a famileh?"

"When have I ever said that?"

His eyes widened. "Jade, I thought you'd 'ave spoken teh 'im about this. 'e won't want ya not teh go thr-..."

Jade tilted her head to the side, staring back at him in disbelief. "He won't want what?" she huffed, shaking her head and passing him on her way into the bathroom, cursing under her breath.

"Sorreh?"

"I got what I need, you can go."

"Wha'? Nah, I'll wait wif ya. I'm 'ere for ya."

"Clearly," she huffed, sarcasm lacing her voice, her desperation replaced by anger instantly. "I don't need that kind of support. I do whatever the fuck I want. You can be whoever you want, he can be Alexander Turner all he wants." She closed the door, locked it before his hand could even touch the handle. "Out."

"Tha' is not wha' I meant, bella..." he sighed, staying close on the other side as she shuffled out of her thong and sunk down. "I joost thought yeh was worried 'bout 'is reaction 'n all..." He cleared his throat. "I can't believe ya 'aven't spoken t'im 'bout it. Trust meh, I know 'im. 'e wants this."

She huffed. "And isn't that all that matters."

"No, Al just-..."

"This isn't up to him," she stated, standing back up, the instructions simple enough and she adjusted her underwear, placed down the test out of immediate sight, though staying as she was, not unlocking the door.

"So wha'? Ya gunna get rid of it?"

"I don't even know if there's anything to get rid of yet." She swallowed hard, biting her lip. She couldn't say she'd given the idea of Alexander as father much thought, much less her as a mother. But she knew him too. If not for the sake of his own family, he would want an heir to his empire, more power. And no child would ever be safer than his. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. "He wants this?"

"I thought 'e would've told ya before marryin' ya."

"Fuck you."

"Wha-...? Bella..."

She dried her hands, stepping away from the sink and slowly unlocking the door, staring right back into Kane's eyes on the other side. "You're ridiculous." She walked past him, pulling on her silk dressing gown.

"D'ya not want a famileh wif 'im?" he asked, his own voice now tenser.

"Is that any of your business?" She couldn't help but remember his instructions, his threats concerning her treatment of Alexander. She ran her fingers through her hair. "One time I forget," she muttered, shaking her head. "Fucking one."

"Talk to 'im about this, bella."

Her gaze snapped up. "You really don't know me, do you, Kane?"

"Oh, come on..."

"I told you I don’t need you here."

He swallowed, his eyes remaining on her, though spinning around when the door opened audibly, Alexander stepping inside.

Jade's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, tensing instantly, barely able to form a coherent thought when he was already right there, one look at her face all it took for him to rush and pull her in, his arms around her.

"Darlin'..." he drawled, the depth of his voice as unsettling as it was comforting. "Wha's wrong, eh?"

"Alexander..." she whispered, her lips against his neck, her fingers running through his hair at the back of his head. The blur of smoke and the spice of cologne was hopelessly overpowering. She heard movement, tilted her head and saw Kane cross the room and step into the bathroom.

"I were on me way teh the meetin' but Maffew told meh yeh seemed upset."

She swallowed hard, her eyes widening when Kane stepped back out of the bathroom, held up the test, she could just about make it out from the distance, the look on his face saying it all. He pressed his lips together, the softness in his eyes comforting despite before he was out the door.

Alexander drew back slightly, though kept his arms around her, aware of his friend's exit, yet she maintained his full attention. "Are yeh okeh?"

She realised only then that tears were pearling down her cheeks and she forced a smile, taking a deep breath. "I can't believe this..." She tried to compose herself, frustrated with the emotion overcoming her, leaving her powerless. "Fuck."

"Jade, darlin'..." he rasped, his forehead coming to rest against hers. "There ain't anehfin' yeh can't tell meh, no matter wha', eh?"

She could not take it any longer. "I'm pregnant, Alexander." Despite what Kane had said, she'd been convinced she knew what to prepare for. But she hadn't.

His eyes widened with evident shock, then his arm tightened around her, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. "Doll..." he said, his voice lowered. "Is tha' rehyt?"

She licked her lips, surprised by the confidence with which she met his gaze, unprepared for the softness in his eyes. "I think so," she said. "The other night after the opera I forgot to take..." She took another breath. "Alexander..."

He blinked slowly, fear creeping into his gaze. "No..." he whispered. "No, Jade..."

Her hands moved to smooth his shirt down over his chest, struggling to take even breaths. "You want this," she concluded, could read him effortlessly, knew him.

His hand came up to cup the side of her face, her skin warm against his palm. The unfiltered joy was slowly but surely facing growing panic, desperation. "Please," he whispered. "I do. 'course I do, sweet'eart." He realised her tears were not joy and his no longer were either now. "Talk t'meh."

"I just never-..." She stopped herself. "I did not see this coming. You... this is what you want?"

"Jade, y'kno' 'ow mooch me famileh means t'meh. I want me own, I alwehs 'ave. But I want you, doll. I want this wif you. Tell meh wha's on yehr mind."

She leaned forward, closing her eyes, her forehead against his chest as she tried to make sense of the chaos in her mind. "How things will change," she said.

He pulled her closer, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I won't try teh persuade yeh if yeh've made up yehr mind," he whispered, his voice strained, barely audible with the last word. She was shaking in his arms and he hated being somewhat responsible. "But if yeh 'ave... worries... let meh ease 'em."

She knew what he would say, and she knew he would be right. His words brought fresh tears to her eyes. Nothing mattered more to him than she did. Being his meant being invincible. And apart from herself, there was one more person she wanted that for. He was Alexander Turner, and there were no worries she knew he couldn't ease for her, no worries that didn't stem from shock rather than actual insecurity and doubt. Slowly, she drew back to lift her head. "If it's a girl-..."

The smile that lit up the edges of his face drew uncontrollable tears of relief from the corners of her eyes, her giggle shaky when he nodded understandingly, knew effortlessly what she would say, spoke with her.

"Valentina."

He brushed her hair back from her face, chuckling. "Of course."

She sniffed, then wrapped her arms tightly around him, sobbing her relief into his chest. "Ti amo."

He smoothed his fingers through her hair, his other hand spread out on the small of her back to keep her as close as she was. "Jade, cara mia," he whispered into her hair. "Sono tuo."

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exosmutfactory · 3 years ago

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Six Phases 006 Pt 6

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: I couldn't find a picture to match Baekhyun's appearance—so I chose one that fits his mood instead 2.0 😅 ♡

[ contains: angst ] Two’s a couple, Three’s a crowd 💔

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

My heels click rhythmically on the sidewalk, in perfect sync with the song I’m humming. I’ve taken a liking to listening to new music lately instead of sticking to the same old artists that I’ve heard a thousand times. Trying to expand my horizons and replace sob-inducing ballads with uplifting trap beats.

It’s going okay so far: moving on. Learning how to navigate the world while riding solo. It’s not like I haven’t done it before—sleepless nights aren’t new. Lack of appetite isn’t either. A breakup will never be the end of the world, no matter how excruciating it is. So why should I let it hold me back and define me?

Birds chirp merrily in the trees, bringing a smile to my face, especially when I catch sight of a little hummingbird enjoying nectar from a patch of flowers. If there’s one thing I can say that has helped me during this time, it’s nature. Simply looking out at the world from my apartment window and taking long walks around the more remote parts of this city have calmed my soul more than I can express with words.

I’m watching the squirrels scurry around on the other side of the street while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh, so much for a moment of tranquility.

I pull my phone out of my tiny jean pocket, furrowing my brows at the caller ID. Jongin…? That’s strange, has he ever called me before? I rack my brain for answers. Nope, this is the first time he is calling me. Flashbacks of our distant friendship since that one summer fight I had with a certain someone flashes through my mind... I press my phone to my ear before I can overthink it any longer. "Hello?"

"Riley." Jongin’s smooth voice filters over the line.

"Hi," I mumble, continuing down the street, noticing a beautiful blue and green butterfly flying by with a smile. The pitter patter of a water fountain in the distance has me falling back into my 'Zen’ mode. "What’s up? How are you?"

"I need a favor." He drops; straight to the point. Sending me right into a panic.

My phone nearly falls to the ground. "...You didn’t break a leg or something-"

"No, no," He immediately responds, recognizing the high pitch of hysteria in my voice. "It’s nothing bad."

Thank fuck, the last thing I need right now is bad news. It may be the end of March, but I’m not really feeling this 'Spring’ season. My mood shifts faster than the strong wind. The only stress I try to have nowadays are always work related because if I stop and think about my personal life for a moment I am fucked.

I take a deep breath, leaning my back against a light pole before replying to him. "Okay."

"There’s a dance competition in June," He slowly explains, "and I need a partner."

"Oh..." I blink a few times, straightening back up. "Huh… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at choosing candidates. I’m not a professional-"

"I mean you." He interjects, background music drifting over the line. "I want you to be my partner."

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, looking at it in disbelief, "I'm sorry—What?"

"I have a routine already," His voice takes on a warmer tone, pure persuasion dripping from his honeyed words. "With your name all over it."

"...Eh??" I look off to the side, trying in vain to find something—anything to distract me from the tingles zapping down my spine at the sound of his voice. God… what the fuck? "Don’t you have like a million other people who specialize in-"

"I made the choreography for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. "And why the heck would you do that?" I demand, tightening my grip on the phone. Something out of the corner of my eye suddenly captures my attention, dragging my eyes over to it instantly. The sight that greets me has my throat going dry, gulping as my hands shake.

It’s Baekhyun—and he isn’t alone.

He’s accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman, the same height as him in her flat sandals. Her black hair reaches the middle of her back, contrasting against her light blue overalls and swaying softly in the cool wind. They lean against a brick wall next to a cute coffee shop with matching coffee cups in their hands.

Jongin’s words fade into background noise while I watch them. My vision blurs when she laughs, resting her hand on his arm. The way she easily initiates physical contact with him speaks volumes; this isn’t their first meeting. It’s been 2 months since January, and yet...

My heart constricts painfully in my chest, I suck in a deep breath. Lightheadedness hits me full force, I quickly cling onto the pole when my body sways off balance. Shit… I must have been holding my breath.

"Riley?" Jongin’s muffled voice drifts from my distant phone. Thankfully it fell onto the parking meteor next to me and not on the ground. "Riley!"

Burning a hole into the back of Baekhyun’s silver-haired head, I bring the phone back to my ear. "I’ll do it," I mumble lowly.

"I’m sorry?"

Staring at Baekhyun and his new friend, I make my decision. "I’ll be your partner."

•••

Okay… Maybe I was too hasty in agreeing to this whole dance competition thing. I should have waited to make a decision when I was in a better state of mind.

It’s been a good four weeks since I agreed to be Jongin’s partner—four weeks of pure hell.

If I had known what kind of dance moves were incorporated in this routine I never ever would have agreed. The choreography appears simple and subtle enough on the surface, especially thanks to Jongin’s gifted skills, but that’s the problem. It’s not simple; it’s a fucking ankle breaker. It’s pure well-organized insanity and I don’t know how much more of it that I can take.

"From the top," Jongin’s voice echoes in the dance studio. He presses a remote to start the song over again. I try to stay focused, ignoring the looming figures of the other hostile dancers in the room. Why they all gathered here to watch us practice today, I have no idea, but it isn’t helping me at all.

The bass booming from the stereo speakers vibrates the wood under my feet. Sweat permeates the air. Their predator-like stares break me down from the inside out. The memory of Baekhyun with that woman pops into my mind...

"5, 6, 7-"

Shit!

Gasps echo around the room when it happens: I collapse onto the floor, clutching onto my throbbing ankle.

"Riley?!" Something about the alarm in Jongin’s voice makes me wince, curling in on myself as everyone’s whispers float into the air.

"Oh my god, is she serious...?"

"See what I mean! She has two left feet. Why is he wasting his time on her?"

"Dumbass can’t even do a single number, let alone a simple choreography. The way he chose that over me…"

I try my best to reel in my emotions, to keep the hurt from being seen on my face, but there’s only so much I can bear—there’s only so much I can take.

Tears pelt down my face while their loud gasps and delighted giggles fill the air. I make a move to climb to my feet, ready to bolt out of here and never step foot in this place again when a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Riley." It’s Jongin, crouching down to meet my eye. "Are you okay?"

I can only shake my head, losing my breath as their taunting voices swirl around my head like a whirlpool, consuming me whole.

"Riley, stay with me." Jongin rests both his hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to his whenever I look away. "Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

"I-I," I choke, covering my face in my hands before I sob pathetically on the hardwood floor. The throbbing of my backside and ankle only makes it worse.

"Ri-"

"Look at her! Pathetic at it’s finest."

Jongin stiffens, I don’t even need to see him to know that he’s gone rigid. His hand slips off my shoulder as I watch his silhouette rise from the spaces between my fingers, standing to his full height.

"Mind sharing with the class what you just said, Kim Nora?" He looks at the woman in the middle of the 5 dancers leaning against the far wall, his jaw clenching.

"I-"

"If you have something to say, say it."

"I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. Years, Jongin!" She snaps, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls. "I’m on time for every rehearsal. I practice until I bleed. Why does this no-name slut get to come in here and take it from me when she can’t even stand on her own two feet?!"

"Kim Nora." The way he says her name has everyone on edge. My back prickles in fear and secondhand embarrassment. He’s not even directing that stone cold tone at me and I’m hella uncomfortable sitting here.

"Who’s dance studio is this, Nora?"

"Yours-" She looks away, not brave enough to meet his eyes anymore. "-M-Mr. Kim..."

Jongin hums, holding his hands behind his back while pacing up and down the floor. "Who’s name is on the sign out front, everyone?"

"Yours, Mr. Kim." They chime in sync with meek voices. A look of regret painted on every single one of their faces.

"Mine." He concludes, satisfied before turning his dark eyes back onto Nora. "Let me explain something to you, Nora."

Her eyes stay focused on the floor.

"This is my practice, my building." He stops pacing, stretching his arms out to showcase the room. "You are under my roof." He looks dead at her, eyes colder than ice. "You are here because I let you. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes, sir, but I-"

"Next time," He cuts her off, "You decide to be immature. Next time, you decide that your knowledge is anything close to my expertise." He steps closer, and I’ve never seen a person standing 3 feet away have such an impact on an individual. "Next time, you decide to mock one of my friends." He lowers his voice, and I can feel the heavy promise coming off him in waves. "You are gone. Do you understand me?"

Nora babbles something unintelligible, tears brimming her eyeliner caked eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes!" She sucks in a breath, snot clogging her nose as she directs her eyes back to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He steps away, turning on his heel before rushing back over to me. "Riley," His voice is softer now, much like the Jongin who helped rescue me from my birthday party 2 years ago.

"Hey..." I hush, lowering my hands to my lap.

"Are you okay?" He hands me a clean towel, his brows furrowed in worry. "How’s your ankle?"

"I-It’s fine."

He raises a brow, reaching out a hand to me. "May I?"

"Yeah." I sigh, noticing the familiar look of concern on his face.

Jongin takes my ankle into his hands, handling it carefully and pressing a few places. "Does it hurt?" His frown deepens when I wince. "And here?"

"Yeah," I nod, my face pinched up in pain.

"From 1 to 10," He continues, looking me dead in the eyes, "How much pain are you in?"

My lips part to answer, but I pause, biting the bullet and wiggling my ankle around to see how bad it actually is. "F-four out of ten." I grit out, still so sensitive that tears sting my eyes again.

"It’s sprained." He concludes, gently lowering it back to the floor.

"W-what does that mean?" I ask fearfully. Whatever it means, it doesn’t sound good with the contest 6 weeks away. Shit, why am I such a fuck up? What if I can’t perform let alone learn the choreography in time? I’m such a failure, I-

"It’s not bad," He reassures, resting a comforting hand on my arm. "A few days off of it and you should be good as new."

"R-really?"

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "Nothing a few days off can’t fix."

"Oh, thank you," I whisper in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to mask the tears that escape my eyes. "Thank you, thank you."

"No," Jongin shakes his head, hugging me warmly, whispering just as quietly in my ear. "Thank you."

•••

After that day, none of the dancers have bothered me, let alone showed up to any more dance practices. Jongin made sure of that. No one fucked around with him either after the way he resolved the issue. An angry Jongin is a scary Jongin; that much I know now.

Sighing softly, I look up at the fluffy clouds overhead, trying to salvage the calm that washes over me in wake of April’s flourishing weather. The flowers are more alive than ever. Small animals and other critters run around for food on the ground. The world around me is the picture-perfect example of nature at its finest—so why is there an uneasy feeling weighing on my chest?

Work is going well and the book we had spent months and months preparing was released last week. I’m on my way to the nearest bookstore to grab a copy for myself. To check that no grammar related errors got past my keen eyes or because I genuinely enjoy the novel, who knows. I want to see the final product for myself and check out other releases. It’s about time I pick up another book besides the one I stayed up countless nights making sure everything was finalized.

A cute bell chimes when I step through the door, hit with the aroma of fresh coffee. Every time I go to a bookstore or library, it’s like I am stepping into another world. The shelves filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands of literature, all at the touch of your fingertips.

From ebooks to the dusty classics, I love them all. I may not read everything; I might be one of the pickiest readers out there, but I appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every completed book. Good or bad, the author has big balls for trying and putting their name out there. I have mad respect for that.

Venturing further into the shop, my eyes catch the Fantasy section with ease. I make my way over, already seeing a colorful display set out for the newest releases. The sight of the book I’m looking for brings a smile to my face. It feels different to see it in a store instead of reading the rough drafts in the comfort of my bed. Damn the graphic designers put their foot in the cover; it captures the personalities of the main characters perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

My smile widens the closer I get to the display, realizing that there is only one copy left of the book. Deserved; everyone from the author to the marketing team have done their best to make this book a big seller. Thankfully the universe left one just for me.

Just as my fingertips touch the edge of the paperback cover, someone else’s hand brushes against mine.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"Ah, I’m so sor-"

My heart plummets and my head snaps up to look at them at once. Puppy brown eyes that I could identify out of countless others and a million stars stare wide-eyed right back into mine.

Fuck.

"Riley?" He breathes, his handsome face painted in disbelief.

I can only wheeze, my chest throbbing as if my heart will explode.

Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck—

Before he can say another word, before I can crumble in front of his questioning orbs, I turn on my heel and sprint out of there like a bat out of hell.

I’ve been doing better, I’m slowly healing from it all, but the moment I see his face—his sweet, tired, kicked-puppy face, I fold quicker than an umbrella in an incoming hurricane. It hurts worse than the force of an 18-wheeler. My whole world full of its fragile edges and duct tape unravels under the weight.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this.

…

Okay scratch that—I used to do this. All the damn time, but with the way our lives have changed and that one conversation we had back in March 2 years ago I… I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. I’ve made it my mission to avoid Sehun.

I know what he will say the minute I tell him what’s up: I told you so—the bane of my existence. That one phrase alone is enough to keep me from confessing so many things. I rather suffer in silence than hear that sentence, but… This is different.

No matter how much it pains me and paints me in shame, I need to tell my best friend what's been going on. After everything he has done for me since our childhood... I owe him that much. So here I am now.

I chew on my bottom lip and knock firmly on his apartment door, waiting for someone to answer with bated breath.

It opens a few minutes later, revealing his unmistakable tall form as he dries his hair. Sehun does a double take. "Shorty?" He breathes in disbelief, pausing in ruffling his messy black locks.

I laugh a little, warmth sparking in my aching heart from the nickname. "Yeah," I breathe, managing a wobbly smile, already feeling tears prickle my eyes. "That's me."

We stare at each other for a long moment, nothing but the distant swish of driving cars and the muffled conversations happening beyond the open balcony on his floor fills the silence. Ah… My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s probably busy enough as it is-

As if reading my mind, Sehun’s gaze softens. He throws the towel around his neck before opening his arms. "Come here."

I bury myself in his chest without hesitation, soaking the fabric of his black t-shirt with my tears. "I’m sorry," I croak, holding back sobs.

"Hey, hey," a low, soothing voice chimes in, resting a hand on my arm. "What happened?"

"I don’t know," Sehun mumbles, rubbing my back as I shake in his arms. "But whoever did it will be missing an arm."

"N-No need, Hun," I sniffle with a shaky sigh, pulling away from his embrace. A chill covers my skin with goosebumps the moment I step away. It’s been like this all week; feeling hot to the touch, yet shaking like a leaf at the same time. I have no idea what is going on, and at this point… I don’t want to know. I can say that for a lot of things.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn around, smiling apologetically at the brown-haired man standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry for popping up out of the blue, Lu."

"Nonsense," Luhan shakes his head, his curly hair partially covering his worry-filled eyes. He takes my hand between his, "Come in, I’ll make us some tea."

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling into their apartment. I take the tissue box he offers me, following him into the spacious living room. He goes into the kitchen while I sit down on their couch, my breath hitching from the emotions budding in my chest.

Sehun closes the door, noisily walking on the wooden floor in his flip flops. He sits down next to me, questioning me with his unwavering stare, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eye. I… I don’t know where to begin; I can’t even find the words. The squeal of the teapot in the other room fills the tense silence between us.

"Alright," He sighs, propping his foot up on the coffee table and resting his arm on his knee before giving me a hard look. "What did Byun do?"

I choke, snapping my eyes to his, "How do you know?"

"You never visit," He points out in the driest of tones. "And when you do, you always call first."

I can only lower my head, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You don’t usually cry after seeing my face either. I mean," He continues, nudging me with his elbow. "Am I ugly or something?"

I snort. "Shut up." Shaking my head, I sigh deeply. "I just… A lot has happened." Risking a peek at him, my shoulders relax at the worried furrow of his brows and the care in his sharp brown eyes.

He nods, smiling the softest that I’ve seen in a long time. "I got time."

I smile a little, my chest bursting in gratefulness for having a friend like him in my life. No matter what happens or what I get into, I can always count on Sehun to be there.

…

If only I didn’t have so much baggage to bring to his door.

"I…" Come on; I ball my hands into the fabric of my shirt. Say it.

Sehun keeps his eyes on me and I struggle more to get the words out, my chest starting to heave. Should I be here? Should I be doing this? What will he say? What if this just makes everything worse—

No.

Sehun is my best friend. We have shared so many memories together, the good and the bad. I was the first person he came out to. He was there when my father walked out of my life. I cheered him on as he climbed the ranks of his weight training team. He helped me catch fireflies in my backyard when all I could rely on was my poor eyesight.

It’s always been him and I against this cruel world. One man—one boy, won’t change that overnight.

"I broke up with Baekhyun."

"What?!" Sehun leaps off of the couch. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I drag out, looking him up and down in confusion. Panic hits me in the gut. "W-Why? What’s wrong-"

"Dude!" He exclaims, tangling his hands in his hair, the most comically distressed expression on his normally 'bitch’ face. "I thought he broke up with you."

The thought of what would have happened if Baekhyun had been the one to dump me makes my heart hurt so much I feel the color drain from my face.

"H-Hey," Sehun immediately takes notice, waving his hands around. "Not on the couch, anywhere but the couch-"

Luhan suddenly appears behind him with a tray of drinks, lovingly smacking the back of his head. "Here," He soothes, ignoring Sehun’s pelulant whines while setting down the tray on the coffee table and offering a mug to me.

"Thank you, Lu." I breathe, smiling when the scent of lemon and ginger hits my nose.

Luhan takes the seat on the other side of me, resting a comforting hand on my knee. "We’re here." He nods, sharing a look with Sehun before focusing back on me with the gentlest of eyes. "Whenever you are ready."

Gulping, I curl my fingers around my mug, the warmth of the tea and their soft eyes giving me the strength to open up.

I am finally able to put everything into words… I just hope we all make it out unscathed.

Closing my eyes, I start from the very beginning, updating them on what has happened since the year we started dating. The summer fight I never told Sehun about, Baekhyun’s ex Haneul following me around. The French lady at the photoshoot, the model behind the scenes. Our fight that reached the public. What went down at the Byun’s house… And finally… how I ran, and never looked back.

Sehun’s facial expressions shift from one extreme to the next throughout my confession. At one point I have to look away from him, stuttering the more I see the disappointment in his eyes. By the end of it, I’m mumbling to the lukewarm mug between my palms rather than them.

My words trail off into silence, nothing but the ticking of Luhan’s treasured grandfather clock making a sound. I’ve grown to hate this the most: the empty space that leaves room for my thoughts to sneak up on me again.

"You were hiding all of this..." Sehun speaks up, betrayal joining the disappointment in his eyes. "All this time."

A lump forms in my throat, "I-"

"You kept this to yourself for years." He grits out, his voice growing sadder by the minute. "Years, Riley."

"I’m sorry," I sob, curling up into a ball, choking on my tears. "I’m s-so sorry."

"Why?" He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-I didn’t wanna bother you," I babble, gasping so much for air I choke even more. "You’re busy with work and your own love life, who am I to bother you with my problems?" Tears blur my vision and stain my glasses, rolling uncomfortably down the bridge of my nose. "Isn’t that what growing up is about?" I whisper, staring lifelessly down at my untouched tea. "Learning how to depend on yourself?"

"Riley, I don’t care if you’re fucking 80." Sehun barks, scaring me until he opens his arms, forgiveness swirling in his softened brown eyes. "You can come to me for anything."

"O-Okay," I mumble, hiding in his chest.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I don’t care if you shave your relaxed hair, adopt a cat, or the world is on fire." He proclaims sternly. "No matter what, you can always come to me."

The comforting smell of fresh laundry on his clothes has my shoulders relaxing, my sobs quieting down to small hiccups. "Okay."

"Good. Now take these sweaters back."

His words take a few moments to register in my sluggish mind. "Huh?" I blink, lifting my head off of him, sitting up fully and immediately recognizing the bundle of clothes in Luhan’s hands. "No," I shake my head, ignoring how dizzy I suddenly feel. "Sehun, those are yours-"

"And I want you to have them."

"I-" My heart constricts in conflict, "But-"

"But nothing. You act like I don’t know that your ass gets cold." He mutters grumpily, crossing his arms. "Keep them, alright?" Being the observant guy that he is, he picks up on my weary glance at Luhan. "Lu chipped in some of his too."

"Mine are comfier," His boyfriend jokes, smiling cheekily.

"Yah."

"You know it’s the truth."

"Only because you—yah! Why are you crying now?!"

"I just…" I sniffle, laughing softly. "I love you guys."

Luhan’s smile brightens while I whine over Sehun messing up my hair. "We love you more."

•••

May passes by in the blink of an eye, mature plants welcoming the upcoming summer heat. I love and hate this for two reasons. One, it’s a certain someone-who-shall-not-be-named birth month. Two, the dance competition is two weeks away. Two weeks. It is literally May 20th and I am sweating my hair out over it.

Why did I agree to this forsaken competition again? Oh right—I decided that a two-step routine is the equivalent of a love triangle. Nice going, Riley.

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. Two weeks until the competition means that my schedule is more packed. Yeah Park’s Publishing may be on an "easy going" break from publishing books right now, but I’m not getting a breather.

Nope, the moment I jokingly told Jongin how I didn’t know what to do with all my free time, he brought up daily dance practice—no, he down right demanded it. And when I started to complain:

"What? It’s not like you have anything else better to do."

I’ve been seething over that for a week.

Huffing at the memory, I plop my bag not-so-subtly on a chair before looking at Jongin on the other side of the room.

"Glaring at me won’t help you perfect the choreo faster-"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh, baby," He grins, raising a brow. "I would if I could." He saunters his way over to me, his beautiful bronze skin already glowing in a thin sheen of sweat when he leans down to face me, "but I don’t mind either way."

I push him away with a hard roll of my eyes, "Let’s get this over with."

"Feisty," He humors. "Someone is feeling better today."

"Better enough to kick your ass," I mutter, tying up my hair in a messy bun.

"Let’s rehearse the second verse," He takes a swing of his water bottle, a serious expression on his features. "Then we’ll talk."

"Bring it on," I lift my chin, playing tough despite the nervousness washing over me.

He nods, grabbing the stereo remote and getting into position. "Show me what you got."

We go over the steps one last time before we begin. The first half of the choreo goes smoothly… and then I stumble the moment the second chorus hits.

"Let’s take a break."

"No," I shake my head, resting my hands on my knees.

"Riley."

"One more time." I pant, trying to catch my breath. "I swear I got it, just-"

"We’ve been at it for 30 minutes."

"But-"

"Break. Now."

I flop to the floor in a tired heap, groaning loudly to annoy him. I’m grateful he called for a break though, my flat feet are crying for mercy like no one’s business. Maybe I should—"Ah," I sigh in relief.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes," I mumble, throwing him a look over my shoulder, not liking his attitude. "My feet are dying over here."

Jongin raises a brow, leaning against the mirror on the other side of the room. "Your parents didn’t see a pediatrician about that?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Born and raised in America," I chirp. "The land of the free, Mother fucka."

Both his brows shoot up. "Are you feverous?"

"No," I mumble, fiddling with a loose string on my shirt. "It’s really hot out."

"Have you been sleeping?" His eyes narrow at my lack of response. "Riley?"

"Oh would you look at that, the ceiling tiles have a noticeable gap between them-"

"Sit down."

"I’m fine." I sigh, reluctantly dragging myself over to the only chair in the room.

"You won’t be if you keep this up." He points out, more than a little peeved. "Have you been drinking enough?"

"I-"

He thrusts his water bottle in front of me. "Drink this."

"But you drank from it!"

"I’ll give you mouth to mouth too if you don’t sit your ass down."

I blink, giving him a long, wide-eyed stare. "Why so serious?" The fed up expression on his face is enough of an answer. "Okay—okay! Fine." Inspecting the bottle for anything floating around on the bottom, I tilt my head back to pour some water in my mouth, mumbling with stuffed cheeks, "There, happy?"

Jongin just sighs, turning on a rotating fan. "Stay here. I don’t want you moving until you finish that bottle."

"Sir yes sir," I mutter, giving a little salute. Grinning when he glares sternly at me. He sighs before going back to the other side of the room.

Watching him practice his solo parts in the mirror, I leisurely sip from the bottle, noticing how his shirt sticks to his fit body. Jongin is tall, a bit broad, and lean. He has a dancer’s body and muscle in all the right places—I can’t imagine his diet. I shiver at the thought of it, checking my forehead. I’m not picky about fitness; I’m a bit on the curvy side myself. I rather have something to sink my fingers into. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Jongin?" I call him tentatively, continuing when he hums. "Why… Why did you make a choreo with me in mind?"

He doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder if he will until he goes over to retrieve something from his bag. "I always wanted to dance with you," He admits, throwing a towel around his neck. "To know what it was like to view your beauty up close." He bends his knee, bracing his foot against the wall as my eyes widen. "The way you move, twirl around, and glide across the floor. The blissed out expression on your face… You are at home on the dancefloor, and it shows." He looks up at me then. "You shine brighter than a million stars."

I forget how to breathe for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"I’ve never been envious of Baekhyun but..." His sultry eyes meet mine again. "When it comes to you, it’s hard to fight my jealousy."

My lips part a few times, endless questions dying on the tip of my tongue. Realizing I’m gaping like a fish out of water, I settle for looking down with a hot blush.

Jongin chuckles, tossing his towel onto his bag. "Come on," He pushes off of the wall, walking over to me and taking me by the hand. "Let’s finish up for today."

"I can stand up on my own, you know?" I grumble. "...Thank you."

He just smiles before we take our positions in the middle of the room.

We take it from the top again, soaring through the routine without a hiccup. I put all my energy into not missing a step, dancing beside and around him with ease—

"Stop."

"What?" I blink, turning around to him. "What’s wrong now?"

"That."

"What?" I repeat, my eyes narrowing.

"That." He emphasises, gesturing to me. "You’re too tense. You need to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax, Jongin?" I mumble heatedly, hurt swelling inside of my chest. "I broke up with the love of my life. I had a shitty week. I can barely do the second verse of the choreo without breaking my ankles-"

"You can’t relax," He speaks up, suddenly standing in front of me. Staring into my eyes with his determined ones. "Because you don’t want to."

"I-"

"You fear what will happen if you do." He continues, holding me captive with his piercing gaze. "You fear the unknown."

"D-Don’t I have the right to...?" I hush, feeling my heart race the longer I look into his observant brown eyes. A part of me hates it; being read like an open book. My vulnerabilities and weak points on display without me wanting them to be. But this is Jongin.

He stares deep into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. "Not on my watch."

There’s nothing to fear.

He selects a song for the stereo to play, and the moment a certain afrobeat instrumental plays through its speakers, I feel the urge to move my body deep in my soul.

"Let go," He encourages, turning around to meet my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Woman

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I’m intimidated by my reflection in the mirror. The sight of me with messy hair, dewy skin, baggy clothes, and my bare feet makes me feel like the wildest looking woman in the world… until I see the sadness and fear visible in my own eyes.

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

Slowly, I move my hips to the beat, getting a feel for it while watching myself in the mirror. My awkward posture makes me tsk, shifting into a more flattering and stable position.

What you need?

She give tenfold, come here, papa, plant your seed

She can grow it from her womb, a family

Provide lovin' overlooked and unappreciated, you see (Yeah)

The lyrics… A sense of empowerment washes over me in waves, motivating the swirl of my hips and the smile forming on my lips. The melody of the song begins to seep into my very bones, warming me up from the inside out.

You can reciprocate

I got delicious taste, you need a woman's touch in your place

Just protect her and keep her safe

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say, "Boy"

Let me be your woman

Winding my waist feels like the most natural thing in the world, circling my wrists while bringing my hands back down to my sides. I can see Jongin’s proud smile from the corner of my eye.

My movements get more energetic as the chorus plays again, the repetitive lyrics flowing like the blood in my veins, felt deep in my very being. Hitting me on a level that very few things ever could.

I glide across the floor when the second verse begins, letting my hair loose and throwing my weight around. The soreness of my waist only makes me shimmer harder, fighting against the aches trying to hold me back—against the chains locked in my mind.

Princess or queen, tomboy or king (Yeah)

You've heard a lot, you've never seen (Nah)

Mother Earth, Mother Mary rise to the top

Divine feminine, I'm feminine (Why?)

Throwing my hands up, I smile as Jongin starts complimenting my movements, playing a smooth rhythmic cat and mouse game with him all over the dance studio. My bare feet on the wooden floor propels me forward, making me feel more connected with the Earth around me, with the woman I want to be.

I’ve caught up to him by the time the song ends, breathing heavily with giddiness pumping in my veins. For the first time in months, maybe even years, I feel like me again—I’ve found myself again.

A hand tucking hair behind my ear has my eyes snapping up to Jongin’s, the adoring expression in his chestnut brown eyes making me feel small and appreciated at the same time. He cradles my face in the palm of his hand, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek. Tingles erupt on my skin; my heart swells with something I haven’t felt in a long time when he starts to lean in.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

I flinch away, pressing my back to the wall, my heart in my throat. "I-I," I look away, hot embarrassment painting my face red. "I don’t want to make you a rebound." A thought occurs to me at that moment: how much taller and stronger Jongin is than me. The consequence of my actions. The vacant practice room. Fearing the worst, I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing happens for a while, the silence dragging on for so long that I start to grow lightheaded, cursing myself for agreeing to all of this in the first place.

Are you happy?

I pause, thinking hard for a moment. Despite the rain cloud constantly hanging over my head, I am doing something that I love. Regardless of me looking like pure shit, Jongin sees a light in me. And against all the fucking odds, I… I feel liberated. I feel free.

With that, I open my eyes, staring fearlessly at the man in front of me.

To my surprise, Jongin smiles. "I don’t want to overstep my boundaries," He mumbles, resting his forehead on mine.

A smile breaks out on my face, putting my secret dimples on full display.

It’s finally D Day—the dance competition is just about to begin, and I can’t for the life of me find my bracelet.

"Do you really need that?" Jongin carefully ruffles his styled hair, squinting with one eye over at me.

"It’s for luck," I justify, searching both our bags.

"You depend on a silly little bracelet to give you luck?"

"My grandma made it for me," I snap, my blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Okay, okay—you," He gently takes me by the shoulders, directing me to his chair. "Sit. I’ll find it."

Finding that all-too-familiar 'no nonsense’ expression on his face, I sigh, carefully covering my eyes with my hand. Both of us got our makeup done for today. He’s got on a golden glimmer of eyeshadow to bring out the sultry brown of his eyes, and I’m rocking a burgundy shade that makes my eyes have their own sensual glare in the mirror.

Tucking my hair-sprayed hair behind my ear, I wince at the thought of washing it out later, but the end result is worth it. My brown hair is bone-straight, complementing Jongin’s lavender-gray, middle-parted hair. Not gonna lie, he’s a total eye-candy right now in that red jacket and mesh shirt, and his stage presence is to die for. His oozing confidence just pumps me up even more.

Watching him pull out my bracelet from some hidden department that I have never seen before in my life and come over to strap it onto my wrist with the gentlest touch has newfound hope blossoming in my heart. We came to perform and we came to perform well.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jongin looks up at me at that moment, nodding firmly.

I nod right back, smiling softly. Win or lose, we are going to give it our all.

We make our way out of the dressing room, listening for our cue from the staff member next to the gap leading out onto the stage. They give directions to someone in their headset before giving us the signal.

I can hear the crowd as we step onto the stage, vibrating the floor under us and my whole being with their excited cheers. Nerves aren't pumping furiously through my veins. No, pure adrenaline guides me forward, and the reassuring smile Jongin sends my way makes me at ease all the more.

When the lights dim and the music starts, my hands are already in my hair, my hips popping to the beat.

Just let it flow as it is for me.

As it moves, show me.

I slide down into a crouch, spreading my knees before rolling my neck to the beat. Quickly standing back up, I slowly run my hands through my hair, swaying my hips side to side. I stop moving to let the crowd focus on Jongin, watching him with a smile.

The party has been getting boring.

Jongin starts doing his own thing while I beckon him closer with a body roll, strutting to him on the other side of the stage. I strike a different pose along to the beat, rubbing my hands over my body and rolling my hips.

Don’t hide it anymore for me

Sliding my hand down my chest, we lock eyes before the chorus hits.

The reason that hides your heart

Do you feel it triggering me a bit?

Here comes the fun part; we sync up our dance moves. Shooting each other little smiles while staying on beat. My long hair sways in the wind; the feeling of being free—free to be me striking me with a sense of comfort in this moment. Jongin catches my eye as if he feels it as well, his killer smirk morphing into a heartwarming smile.

Baby don’t play with me

I slow down to sway my hips to the beat while Jongin slides behind me, pressing his firm chest to my back. The ripples of his abs brush against me through the fabric of his mesh-shirt, warming my sun-kissed skin under the light heat of the partially cloudy sky. His hand tucks under my chin when I face him for the next lyric, "You’re my VIP."

(She talkin’ about)

We sync up again for the next part of the choreography, making me giggle in delight, beaming over the fact that I might have cried a hundred times practicing this choreo but I can finally say that I can dance it without breaking my ankles. And the proud smile on Jongin’s face adds onto that fact.

He points out to the crowd and we change positions as the pre chorus starts again. Jongin acts like the cool, smooth man that he is while I roll my way back to him, matching his moves before blowing a kiss to the crowd when the chorus kicks back in again.

Top down ya

It could be you and me, it could be you and me

I place my hand on Jongin’s shoulder, strutting around him while he shrugs off his jacket. Preparing for the bridge that we changed last minute. Now it’s his time to shine.

Now let me give you what you want tonight

You told me

I take a step back, focusing on complimenting his movements while he has his moment to woo the crowd. Those charming smirks and attractive smiles can steal the heart of anyone, especially the cheering people standing in the front row. There’s a lot of things I’ve learned recently about Jongin, and his unmistakable stage presence is one of them.

The chorus comes back one final time and we go all out. Dancing until our feet ache and the wind picks up around us. The sweet smell of tteokbokki and summer breeze in the air brings another smile to my face. Jongin gets down on the floor while I kneel on one knee to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes with his finger tucked under my chin as the last lyrics of the song fades away.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the crowd erupts into cheers. Applauding so loud it overwhelms my sensitive ears. Jongin and I step forward to take one last bow, smiling at each other before making our way off stage… but a certain, persistent stare has my eyes flickering back to the crowd. The glimmer of silver hair in the front row is all I allow myself to see before hurrying to leave.

"That was," I start, gasping for breath by the time we reach the dressing room. "Fucking amazing!"

Jongin smiles, glancing over at me, "You liked it, huh?"

"Dude—I fucking lived for it!"

He laughs and it’s super cute, especially with his wide smile.

"That was so cool," I sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

Jongin raises a brow, a smile still on his plump lips. "Would you do it again?-"

"Hell no!" I squeak. "Well… Not unless it’s with you." His eyes dance under the painfully bright lights. "Stop smirking, I take it back."

"Don’t worry." He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back against the vanity table. "You’ll be the first one I call next time too."

We’re called back up onto the stage before I can reply, but the smile I beam his way speaks volumes. However, nerves are plaguing my mind this time around. There’s no mistaking the silver hair that I saw in the crowd.

Just as I thought, when we are standing next to the other contestants, there he is. Front and center. I close my eyes with a deep sigh. What the fuck, man? Why are you everywhere?! Can I catch a break from him please? Please?!

Tension builds in my body, but then something cracks.

You know what—

I clench my fists. Fuck him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not; he’s no longer a part of my life. Why should I care?

My eyes don’t stray far from the judge and Jongin, even with the constant itch of Baekhyun’s stare. Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole.

The minutes seem to drag on as the judge gives his big speech, listing the criterias and rubric for calculating the winner. A whole lot of gibberish that I have no interest in listening to; I hope Jongin is paying attention. The knowing look he gives me when we briefly make eye contact confirms it. Yep, I smile sheepishly. Sorry.

That damn ticklish sensation on my skin still hasn’t moved while the couple in 3rd place steps forward to receive their reward. I swear to the heavens, Byun Baekhyun—

Snapping my neck around, I glare right at him despite my heart dropping at the sight.

He stands in the front row, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the crowd in his black hoodie and dark jeans. The only thing that makes him pop is his ever-silver hair… and the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

My heart races. Are those—

"And the winner is: Jongin and Riley!"

The crowd roars in excitement, everyone standing up to applaud us as the judge hands Jongin the trophy and a helper places a ribbon around my shoulders. I can’t help but beam at Jongin, both of us smiling wide enough for our mouths to hurt later, but I don’t worry about that now. This is our moment. I throw my arms around him, laughing loudly when he sets down the trophy to spin me around in the air.

"We did it!" I wrap my arm carefully around his neck, pumping my fist in the air.

Jongin sets me back down, keeping his arms loosely around my waist. "You," He plants a kiss on the top of my head, "did it."

I can’t erase the smile on my face or the glee in my heart even if I tried. My eyes glance back out at the crowd while he goes around congratulating the other contestants, immediately locking onto those soul-sucking, puppy brown eyes. Half a year later and his eyes never fail to make me feel nothing and everything all at once. But I won’t let that define me: I’m not Baekhyun’s woman anymore.

Spectators in the crowd around him are buzzing with energy, dancing to the outro music they are playing overhead while he continues to stand stock-still, his brown eyes focused on me.

My mind drifts for a second, imagining what it would have been like to be standing up on this stage with him, winning the competition with him by my side. I acknowledge it, let my mind have its little reminiscing moment—and then nip it right in the bud.

I don’t want to live a life of 'What ifs?’ anymore—I want to experience those 'Why nots?’ instead.

I sense Jongin before he steps closer, his chest brushing against the back of my arm. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, his lips grazing my ear.

I continue to lock eyes with Baekhyun, laughing inwardly at the unreadable expression on his face and the lack of a sparkle in his eyes. And when that tall raven from months ago runs to pull him into a hug, my gaze doesn’t waver from his in the slightest. "Yes." I turn my back on him and rest my hand on Jongin’s bicep with a swirl of my hips, peeking at him from under my eyelashes.

He smiles down at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. We link our arms together while walking backstage and out of the stadium.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

A/N: Team Jongin or Team Baekhyun? After that dance practice scene, my heart is stuck somewhere in between 💔

Hiya! Long time no see (^-^)

I don't have much to say ahh (>.<) my brain is fried. The emotions in this chapter came from a week of sleepless nights and a marathon of Doja Cat's Planet Her <3 I still got 10 scenes to finish up before Six Phases will be completed. This isn't the end! Just the best cliffhanger I could do with a 100+ page doc (thanks to my nearsightedness. font-size 16 is a lifesaver)

I might suddenly drop the Finale out of nowhere :'D everything depends on Riley~

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story!! 🥺🥰🌸💗 Writing this baby (haha) is my favorite thing to do and to share it with all of you means the world to me <333 Alright, I'll stop being mushy. Have a great weekend, lovelies! See you as soon as the Finale is done~

Happy two years of Un Village & city lights!!

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Thank you endless Baekhyunee for inspiring me. I wouldn't be here without you ❤️

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #bbh-net #baekhyun #Team J or Team B?#Six Phases

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dreary-rain · 3 years ago

Text

The Storm Protects (Ch.1)

Continuation of this post

Venti/Aether

Warnings: angst, violence, injuries (full tags on AO3)

Find the full story here

The sky was cloudless as Aether strolled through Mondstadt, Paimon floating at his side. He stopped by the Adventurer’s Guild and chatted with Katheryne about upcoming commissions. After waving hello to Donna, Aether slipped inside Angel’s Share. It was a bit too early for the regular crowd, but there were a few people scattered around.

“Diluc!” Aether greeted with a smile. The redhead glanced up from where he was cleaning a glass.

“Aether, good to see you. How are you?” Diluc asked and set the glass down.

“No greeting for Paimon?” Paimon asked and crossed her arms. Aether shook his head with a smile and sat down at the bar.

“I didn’t forget about you,” Diluc said with a smile. “How are you, Paimon?”

“Paimon is doing great! But it would be better if you had something to eat.”

“Of course,” Diluc said and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate of food. Paimon’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to eating.

“Thank you,” Aether glanced back at Diluc. “I’m feeling better. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I can imagine. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you. Well, I did have a question and a request, but that can wait.”

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll listen.”

“Well, in that case…” Aether cleared his throat and looked down. “Do you know what happened to… to the… to the Fatui who…”

“Ah, them.” Diluc saved Aether from having to spell it out. Aether had faced a dragon, fought a Harbinger, and fallen from the Jade Chamber, but nothing had brought him closer to death than his slip-up with the Fatui agents. Even now, he had trouble believing he had almost been killed by mere Fatui. But there had been plenty of strange occurrences that day. Battle after battle in a relatively peaceful area in Liyue was rather unusual. It was almost like his day had been planned by someone else so that Aether would be too exhausted to fend off the Fatui.

But why? Aether didn’t want to consider the possibility that not only the attack itself, but the entire day was planned just to kidnap him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware. They were found dead at the Stone Gate.”

“Dead?” Aether looked up in shock. “That’s the first I’ve heard. And right where I was ambushed…”

“Well, it’s been two weeks since it happened, but you were still on bed rest. We didn’t want to alarm you while you were healing.”

“I understand. But who…” Aether stopped. “Diluc, did you—?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Someone got to the bastards before I could,” Diluc said bitterly. “Don’t look so surprised. Half of Mondstadt would kill for you.”

Aether looked down and clasped his hands in his lap. He stole a glance at Paimon, but she was too engrossed in her food to be paying attention. Aether knew what Diluc said was true, but it was still unnerving. Why would they go to such lengths for Aether? He wasn’t from Teyvat. He was an outsider, an outlander, someone who didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve the kindness and protection of so many.

“You don’t need to go to such lengths.”

“There’s no necessity of it. We want to protect you, and anyone who lays a hand on you will suffer.” Diluc rested his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Let’s say it were Venti who was almost killed. To what lengths would you go to keep him safe and hurt those who dared harm him?”

Unconsciously, Aether tensed. If someone harmed Venti… Aether would kill them. Morals aside, no one would touch Venti and live. In his mind’s eye, Aether saw La Signora plunging her hand into Venti’s chest, stealing his Gnosis and then kicking him aside like trash.

Aether didn’t trust himself to speak, but Diluc saw the murderous expression on his face. If Aether ever saw La Signora again, he would end her with his own two hands.

“Do you understand now?” Diluc asked, and Aether nodded, taking a breath to relax. He was safe, Venti was safe, and La Signora was nowhere near either of them.

Uncurling his hands, he rubbed his palms to soothe the crescents his nails had left. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen.”

“No worries. Now, I hate to cut this short, but business will be picking up soon,” Diluc said with a glance at the door. Aether quickly stood.

“I won’t bother you much longer. But I did have a request. I’d like to purchase a bottle of dandelion wine.”

Diluc raised a brow. “You’re underage.”

Aether resisted the urge to facepalm. If only Diluc knew that he and his twin were older than everyone in Mondstadt combined.

“It’s not for me. I have a guest coming over tonight and I’d like to treat him.”

“That’s what they all say,” Diluc shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips as he opened the cabinet behind him.

“Come on, Paimon. Time to go.” Aether slid enough mora to Diluc and took the bottle of wine. Paimon thanked Diluc for the food, and then they went to leave.

“Say hello to Venti for me,” Diluc said as goodbye. “And tell him to pay his tab or I’ll stop serving him.”

“He’ll weasel free drinks from your patrons if that does occur,” Aether laughed. “But I’ll remind him.”

“Take care, Aether.”

The sun was nearing the horizon as Aether walked home. The shadows were long, but Aether made a point of avoiding them. He always made sure to make it home before dark.

In worlds past, it had always been Lumine who was afraid of the dark. Aether would tease her about it, but he’d always make sure to leave a light on at night. Now, the roles were reversed. Aether couldn’t stand the dark, not without being reminded of his near death experience. He wouldn’t travel at night anymore, making sure to be in a safe place before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Lumine was at home in the darkness of the Abyss. Aether wondered if she ever thought of him, or if she was so dead set on her goals that he was an afterthought. Would Aether have ever seen her if he hadn’t traveled with Dain? Aether was tempted to track down the Abyss Herald just to see her again. He would brave the terror-inducing energy of the domain housing the inverted statue just to see her again. He would fall into the darkness of the Abyss just to find her again, to beg that she come home with him.

But if their roles were reversed, would Lumine do the same? Aether didn’t want to know the answer. The bitter sadness that was left from her abrupt departure was too much to sort through.

“Aether, cheer up! Paimon knows you’re thinking about your sister again, but it’ll be okay. We’ll find her again, don’t you worry,” Paimon broke Aether out of his thoughts.

“You’re right. It may take some time, but we’ll find her,” Aether said with a small smile. There was no use dwelling on Lumine now, not when Aether needed to get ready for his guest.

Ever since the incident three weeks ago, Aether had been staying in an apartment in Mondstadt. Even though he had his teapot, Aether felt safer in Mondstadt, surrounded by people he loved. He didn’t want to burden anyone by asking them to join him in his teapot realm, but he was too lonely by himself. He couldn’t bear being alone. What if something happened and he was all by himself again?

Diluc had offered Aether his city apartment for as long as he needed to recover, but Aether had initially turned down the offer. It wasn’t until he’d been cooking in his teapot mansion and accidentally cut himself chopping vegetables that he reconsidered the offer. The sudden sting of pain and the blood welling on his fingers had sent Aether into such a panic that Paimon had found him huddled on the ground in the kitchen minutes later. It was at Paimon’s firm suggestion that Aether moved into Diluc’s apartment.

Aether made it to the apartment, walking up the stairs to his door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. That was cause for alarm. Aether always locked the door when he left.

But he was in the middle of Mondstadt, and it wasn’t even night yet. Besides, there were two others who had keys to the apartment. One being its owner, Diluc, and the other being…

“Ehe, hello Aether. I may have let myself in,” Venti said from beside the stove. He was cooking dinner. Aether heaved a sigh of relief. It was just Venti. While hanging up his cape and scarf, Aether noticed Venti’s hat on the coat rack and his shoes at the base.

“It’s no problem. I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Aether said while pulling his gloves off.

“I know, but I wanted to treat you with dinner tonight. My food is quite tasty when I cook it right.”

“Well, thank you. I brought you dandelion wine. Diluc says hello, but wants you to pay your tab or he’ll cut you off.” Aether placed the wine on the table while Paimon floated over to Venti to help with the food. Well, she probably just wanted to sneak some food from the bard.

“That Mister Diluc always threatens me, but he always serves me reluctantly.” Venti stirred the contents of the pot. “Thank you for the gift. Which reminds me, I brought you something, though it’s a bit makeshift. I’ll bring something adequate next time.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll appreciate anything you give me. Now, I’ll be back. Don’t burn the house down in the meantime.”

Venti clutched his shirt in mock hurt. “Aether, you wound me.”

Aether just smiled and closed his bedroom door. He summoned his sword and hung it on the wall, then rummaged through his dresser for more casual clothes. When he was done, he joined Venti at the table.

“One Archon special coming right up!” Venti placed a plate full of food in front of Aether and Paimon.

“Is it just Paimon or does this look like a Sweet Madame?”

“Ehe.” Venti rubbed the back of his head and sat across from Aether. “It’s one of the few recipes I can make myself.”

“Well, it’s better than Zhongli. I’m not sure he even knows how to cook rice,” Aether pointed out. “He’ll lecture you all day long on the proper way to prepare rice for different meals, but I bet he wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“He’d be stuck the moment he needs to buy ingredients. That blockhead never changes,” Venti agrees.

“For being the god of Mora, Zhongli never seems to have any. Ironic, isn’t it?” Paimon said, eliciting laughs from Aether and Venti.

“Jokes aside, this tastes really good, Venti,” Aether complimented sincerely.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

Aether washed their plates when they were done. The sun had gone down, the sky painted in shades of red and pink fading into blue.

“Paimon, could you make sure all of the candles are lit?”

“No need to fret. I lit them before we met,” Venti assured while pouring himself wine. “Come sit back down and I’ll give you your gift.”

Aether sat beside Venti, who placed a flower pot on the table.

“Flowers?”

“Dandelions!” Venti said, gesturing to the Anemo-colored puffs. “They grow where there is gentle wind, and in Mondstadt they grow without end. While freedom is our creed, I think these little ones will love it here.”

Aether stared at the dandelions, drawing the clay pot a bit closer to him.

“And, uh, also,” Venti said a bit nervously, “I thought they’d remind you of me, so that even when alone, I’ll be with you in memory.”

It was such a thoughtful gift, given the circumstances, that Aether felt unbearably happy. In lieu of a response, Aether leaned over and hugged Venti.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as Venti’s arms wrapped snugly around Aether’s waist. After a moment, Aether leaned back, relishing in the way Venti’s hands lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll put them on my bedside table by the window. That way I’ll see the dandelions every time I wake up.”

Aether stood, grabbing the dandelion pot, and gestured for Venti to follow. Paimon stayed in the kitchen, munching on cookies Aether had bought earlier in the day.

After placing the dandelions beside his bed, Aether sat down and pulled the elaborate hair tie off and set it aside.

“Help me with my hair?”

“Of course!” Venti climbed onto the bed behind Aether, crossing his legs and grabbing the end of Aether’s braid. “Do you have a brush?”

“Behind you.”

Venti deftly sifted his fingers through Aether’s long, blond hair, carefully untangling any snarls. Aether swallowed, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

It was moments like this that reminded Aether of his feelings for Venti. The care and kindness the god gave him made Aether feel special. Out of anyone in the world, Venti chose to spend his time with Aether. Before Aether had arrived in Teyvat, Venti hadn’t stayed in one place for too long. He had gone where the wind wanted to go, but after meeting Aether, the Archon was never out of reach.

“You like that, hmm?” Venti hummed as he combed through Aether’s hair.

“Mmhmm. You’re gentle. Lumine used to braid my hair, but she’d always pull too hard on the tangles.”

“I braid my own hair enough to know how to be gentle,” Venti said softly. Aether couldn’t see him, but he sounded like he was smiling. Fingers ran down the length of his hair. “Your hair is much longer. And softer.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were back there petting my hair,” Aether teased.

“Maybe I am. It’d be a waste not to.”

Aether opened one eye and turned his head slightly to look at Venti. He was surprised to see a serious look on Venti’s face. It was one full of contemplation.

“Venti?”

“Tell me, Aether, what do you think of me?”

Aether considered the question. The obvious answer was that he loved Venti, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if Venti didn’t love him back? It would ruin the friendship they’d built.

Except, when Aether thought about it, Venti didn’t treat Aether like another one of his friends. A mere friend wouldn’t come by Aether’s apartment every night, wouldn’t cook dinner and bring presents for no reason, and wouldn’t help Aether with his hair. An Archon wouldn’t abandon centuries of wandering to stay with Aether unless Aether meant something more to him. Venti hadn’t left his side since the incident with the Fatui, always checking in on him, protecting him.

Suddenly, Aether remembered his conversation with Diluc. The answer was obvious now.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aether mumbled. He looked at Venti, at his gaze so full of love and kindness, and realized he’d been a fool. This whole time, Venti had harbored feelings beyond friendship. Aether had been too oblivious to see it until now.

“Venti, I…” Venti perked up. Aether fought the rising blush. “I love you.”

Venti’s eyes widened, but then his lips curled into a soft smile. Venti leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Aether’s lips. Aether’s face flushed red, but he closed his eyes. Less than a moment later, Venti’s lips met his.

It was a chaste, simple kiss, but it sent tingles down Aether’s spine. Venti brought his hand up to Aether’s cheek, pulling back enough to speak.

“If the kiss didn’t convey the sentiment, I love you, Aether,” Venti said, his breath hot against Aether’s lips. “This is a bit of an awkward position, with you twisting around like that.”

As soon as he’d said it, Venti shuffled around, swinging a leg over Aether’s hips. Venti settled on his knees over Aether’s lap, forcing Aether to tilt his head up to see him.

“That’s better,” Venti said with a satisfied hum, then captured Aether’s lips in another kiss. Venti cupped Aether’s face with his hands, his lips plump against Aether’s. Venti kissed with a passion, fervent and controlled at the same time.

His right hand trailed to the nape of Aether’s neck, then tangled into his hair. With a sharp tug, Venti pulled on Aether’s hair, tilting Aether’s head at an even sharper angle. A soft gasp escaped Aether’s throat, his hands flying to steady himself on Venti’s waist.

“It’s been so long,” Venti murmured against Aether’s skin as he trailed his kisses along Aether’s jaw, “since someone has made me feel this way.”

Venti mouthed over Aether’s exposed neck, tightening the hand in his hair.

“Venti…” Aether breathed as Venti nipped at the base of his throat. His fingers curled around Venti’s waist at the sensation. He vaguely noted how small Venti’s waist was, how well it fit into Aether’s hands.

Venti’s hand fell away from Aether’s face to rest on the topmost button of Aether’s shirt. Quickly, Aether grabbed his wrist.

“Kisses are enough for now,” Aether said breathlessly. He didn’t think he could handle much more. Venti nodded, removing his hand and pressing a kiss to Aether’s cheek.

“We’ll stop here, then.” Venti brushed a strand of hair from Aether’s face. Aether noted smugly that Venti’s lips were red and slick. He looked a mess, but Aether was sure he looked worse.

“I never said no more kisses,” Aether whined as Venti slipped off of his lap.

“I know, but I don’t think it would be easy to stop if we got ourselves too worked up,” Venti explained. “But, I’ll give you all the kisses you want when I visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Aether agreed with a blush and looked down. A finger tilted his chin upward.

“I love you,” Venti said with a wide smile. He giggled, kissing Aether on the forehead before walking to the bedroom door. “I’ve been waiting forever to say that.”

Aether stood to follow, a giddy smile on his own face. Venti loved him. It was as simple as that, and yet it made Aether’s heart swell with joy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aether promised as they walked through the kitchen. Paimon looked up from where she was sitting at the table, taking a break from floating.

She took one look at them before huffing, “Finally. Pining idiots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aether asked incredulously. Paimon just shook her head and took a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie.

“Goodnight, Aether,” Venti said and adjusted his hat after slipping on his shoes. “I love you.”

“You’re going to say that every time you see me, aren’t you?” Aether joked, leaving against the door frame.

“I’m a bard. I’ll come up with poetic ways to express my love once my head clears up.” Venti stood outside on the stairs. “Thank you for tonight. I left the dandelion wine. I’ll drink more next time.”

“See you tomorrow, Venti.”

“Until tomorrow.” Venti started down the stairs, then paused. “Aether, you should wear your hair down more. You look beautiful in a braid, but in the presence of your unbound hair, the beauty of the heavens fades.”

Aether blushed, pressing his lips together in embarrassment. He absentmindedly twirled his hair.

“Too much?” Venti asked sheepishly.

“I’m flattered,” Aether said. “A little embarrassed, but very flattered.”

“Hmm…” Venti‘s eyes flicked up and down Aether, then settled on his eyes. “I’ll have to make a point of flattering you. That blush suits you.”

“Venti,” Aether whined. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take my leave now before I give you a heart attack.”

“See you!” Aether waved as Venti left. Then he shut the door, locking both of the deadbolts. When he entered the kitchen, Paimon was asleep at the table.

“How does someone who floats and eats all day get tired so easily?” Aether shook his head, then picked Paimon up and laid her down on her bed. She had insisted on having her own bed in the apartment, so Aether had found a child sized bed for her and placed it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Paimon,” Aether said. He fumbled with his shirt, hand pausing on the top button with a blush. All in due time, he thought as he changed into sleep clothes.

Aether climbed into bed, glancing at the dandelions on the bedside, and put his finger to his lips. He could still taste the dandelion wine from Venti’s lips. With a smile, Aether fell into a peaceful sleep.

“Aether!” Paimon’s high pitched scream startled Aether awake. His eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed. It took a moment to gather his bearings, but that was enough time to recognize the danger he was in.

A hulking silhouette stood in the doorway, holding a struggling Paimon by the throat.

“Aether,” she whimpered, and Aether shot forward, reaching for his sword on the wall. He didn’t make it.

The window shattered as a man leapt inside and collided with Aether. He fell backwards from the force, his head slamming against the bedside table. The pot of dandelions toppled over with a crash. Black spots danced across Aether’s vision, but he struggled to his feet.

In such close quarters, using his Palm Vortex wasn’t the best idea, but without a sword it was his only option. Before he could use it, a gust of Anemo snuffed out the candles in the room. In the sudden darkness, Aether could make out the purple glow of the electrohammer vanguard holding Paimon, and the green of the anemoboxer in front of Aether.

Fatui. A spike of fear shot through Aether.

That moment of hesitation was all the anemoboxer needed to rush Aether, knocking him to the ground. A hand pinned him to the ground, wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Aether scrabbled at the hand, kicking to no avail.

With one hand trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat, the other lifted toward the anemoboxer in an attempt to summon his Palm Vortex. Anticipating this, the anemoboxer grabbed Aether’s wrist and twisted.

A sickening crack echoed in the room. Aether screamed and dropped his hand to the side. Despite the pain, he weakly raised his other hand, but the anemoboxer brought something out of his pocket. There was a sharp pinch on Aether’s neck, and he watched as the anemoboxer pulled an empty syringe away.

Aether tried to summon his Anemo, but nothing happened. The hand on his neck was finally gone, but his body felt lethargic. He gasped, coughing from being strangled.

“Aether,” Paimon sobbed.

“Leave the pixie. La Signora just wants the boy,” the anemoboxer told his companion. Aether heard Paimon’s scream followed by a thud. It was quiet.

Aether couldn’t fight the drowsiness forcing his eyes closed. He couldn’t move despite the panic coursing through him at the mention of La Signora. The electrohammer vanguard picked up Aether’s limp body, and he couldn’t fight back.

Aether thought Mondstadt was safe. He caught a glimpse of the soil spilled around the broken pot, the dandelions standing tall despite it.

Aether’s last waking thought was of Venti.

#venti #aether #aether x venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin angst

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cal-puddies · 5 years ago

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caught in between || poly!lashton

idk how many more sexual scenarios i can push, but i am loving on the character and relationship development. @kindahoping4forever cheered your girl on as she always does.

Poly! Lashton: the blow job || daddy’s home || cream pie || take the pleasure, take it with the pain || all at once this is enough || caught in between || take my heart, hit the back || daddy issues || needy || only you know the way that I break || picked all my weeds but kept the flowers

Ash comes home from work early one day, neither you or Luke were expecting him. You just knew he’d been tired a lot and there had been a lot of late nights at the office and him coming in and collapsing in bed with you and Luke. You can only remember one night he spent in his own bed since the three of you had the incredibly intimate night, and that was only because he had zero energy to join you.

You’d made note and made sure anything you and Luke wanted to do was done before he got home. He seemed to need to be with the two of you, re-energized by the closeness, at least enough to get through another crazy day.

But he was in high spirits. He grins at you, calls for Luke and collapses with you on the couch. Luke looks confused when he walks in, handing you a sandwich wrapped in a napkin and a bottle of water and sits on the other side of Ash, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Babes.” He grins, “big news! Projects done. Which means I have time for a vacation with

My two favorite people in the world.”

Luke grins wide, “does this also mean we’ll see you at normal times again?”

“Yes, babe, it does.”

“I’ve missed you two.” He quickly grabs Lukes face and kisses his cheek and then yours. “I’m gonna change real quick and then we can talk about where we wanna go.”

Luke’s brain is already working for where they can go, he likes the idea of the beach again, because you in a bikini and Ash half naked for basically the entire trip? Hell yeah. But Ash wasn’t usually too keen on long beach trips. Maybe they could do Vegas though, Luke did love the night life.

Ash comes back, black athletic shorts only, “any thoughts babes?” He asks, sitting back between you.

“I liked the beach house.” You pipe up.

“The beach house was fun.” Ash agrees, “but I’d like to take you two somewhere else.” He drapes his arm across your shoulders. “Vegas?” Ash asks, looking at Luke like he could read his mind.

“Eh.. I dunno if I’m ready to share baby girl like that. Way too many eyes would be all over her. Look at this hot piece of ass.” Luke reaches over and playfully pinches your thigh.

“That’s fair… though, you seem to have trouble keeping your hands to yourself in Vegas.” Ash mentions to him. “We haven’t been to New York in awhile. Shopping’s good, plenty to do, good food… and it’d be nice to actually have you there. That place lacks so much of you two when I go for work.”

“Can I also pitch Hawaii?” Luke asks, “I’ve never been, have you?” He asks you and Ash watches as you shake your head, “and she'd be in a bikini a lot… and that’s a selling point.” He explains.

“That… is also an excellent idea.” Ash agrees, “both of you half naked for the whole trip and sun kissed… pretty girl, thoughts?” He asks.

“Oh… you two can choose. I’ve never been to either.” You shrug, getting up to exit the conversation.

Ash grabs your hand as you breeze by, “no love, it’s for all of us, we can all decide.” He pulls you back into his lap. “You really don’t have an opinion?” He checks.

“All that will matter to me is that I get to be with you guys.” You shrug. Ash squeezes you and kisses your cheek, “if you’re sure babe…” he watches you nod and let’s you go.

That lands you in the small airport a week later. You knew Ash flew private for work, but you weren’t expecting to fly private, probably ever. Your fingers are tangled in Luke’s shirt as you wait, they'd decided on New York and neither of them were aware you’d never flown. But you could feel a panic attack say they were both gonna find out.

“Hey.” Luke says, cupping your chin. “What is it? You’ve been pulling at my shirt for like the last ten minutes.”

“It’s nothing.” You mumble, not meeting his eyes.

“Talk to me.” Luke coaxes.

“No. It’s fine.” You untangle your fingers and walk away from him, a little annoyed he wasn’t more sensitive to your obvious mood change. Ash would pick up on it, even though he might not say anything, but Luke could be oblivious if it would interfere with his own good time.

You sit on the floor in a corner. Away from eyes.

Luke spots you, head between your knees, and he knows it’s more serious than he initially thought. He walks up to Ashton and bumps him gently on his shoulder, “you gonna be on your phone the whole trip, because you’re gonna miss things like… that.” He points toward you and Ash’s eyes snap in your direction.

“No, the second we leave I’m done… what’s wrong there?” He asks, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“I don’t know. I didn’t quite recognize the vibe. She was pulling at my shirt and wouldn't tell me what’s up.” Luke shrugs, but he’s clearly worried now.

“Pulling at your shirt?” Ash asks, still trying to get details and assess you. Luke shows him, twisting his fingers in his own shirt. “Mmkay. Stay here, I'll get it.”

And then ash is in front of you, kneeling, gently running his fingers over the back of your neck. You flinch and he rests his hand there until you look up. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” He asks quietly.

“I’ve never flown before.” The tears well up and spill over.

“Hey, it’s ok. Why didn’t you say something?” He moves closer.

“You and Luke seemed so excited and I didn’t want to just ask to stay here, I’ve never left the state.”

“Ok. It’s ok to be scared baby, but do you think I would ever do anything to put you in danger? After we’ve said “I love you” without our attention whore boyfriend?”

He watches you smirk, “he’s just so pretty.” You relax a little.

“And nothing but trouble.” Ashton grins. “C’mon, you’ll sit with me. I’ll keep you safe.” He holds his hand out and then the three of you are walking out to the tarmac to board the plane.

Ash sits, and you sit in the seat next to him, it seems a lot more spacious than it looked from the outside, and everything was so expensive looking, from the white leather seats, down to the trim. Ash’s thumb rubs over the back of your hand, and he pulls it to his mouth to kiss it.

Luke stops, rests his hand on your cheek. “You ok?” He murmurs. “You’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine.” You nod, meeting his eyes. He leans in and kisses you. And then is taking a seat across the aisle.

An attendant comes around, “Mr. Irwin, can I get you guys anything before take off?” She asks.

“Yes, we’ll have a whiskey on the rocks.” He points between you and himself, “and he’ll drink whatever you give him, I’m sure.” Ash laughs.

“I’ll do vodka and ginger.” Luke orders.

You spend 65% of the flight in Ashton’s lap, Luke occupying the seat next to you. He’s being as reassuring as possible but every time the plane so much as jostles from turbulence, you’re freaking out. So, he holds you tight, murmurs that you’re ok, and kisses your cheek. “Hope you enjoy this more on the way back.”

You both watch Luke flirt with the flight attendant, and you’d be more worried except you know for a fact that the first thing Luke is gonna wanna do when you get settled is get naked. But you feel the jealousy radiate off Ashton as Luke continues to flirt with her, touching her, making little comments.

“Sucks not to be the center of his world.” Ash murmurs to you. Both of you situated to look out of the window instead of at Luke.

“We’re both still the center of his world.” You assure him, “sometimes he just needs other people in his orbit.” You chuckle.

“He found the only two people that would love each other just to love him.” Ash smirks.

“You don’t believe that?” You challenge.

“I think… Luke is someone who needs attention, and he doesn’t mind sharing my attention with you, but when I focus on you, it can be too much for him.”

“I don’t disagree but I was talking about loving each other to love him.” You chuckle. “I think I would have wound up loving you if we’d met without Luke.” You shrug, daring to actually lean in to look out the window. Ash tightens his grip on you.

“I haven’t thought of it, honestly.” He hums.

And to no one's surprise, Luke whines about wanting to order in, and begging to go down on either of you. Somehow, Luke has become the most submissive, getting himself down to his underwear, unbelieving that either of you wouldn’t want a thing from him at the moment.

“Why didn’t you get the flight attendants number?” Ashton teases, you and him unpacking.

“I didn’t want her.” He whines.

“Coulda fooled us, baby.” Ash laughs. “You couldn’t have been more all over her.”

“What about you two?” He groans.

“Love. The food menus are in the kitchen, top drawer across from the sink. Go find something you wanna eat.” Ash says, shooing Luke.

“Don’t fuck my girl.” Luke warns, narrowing his eyes.

“I’ll do whatever me and our girl wants.” Ash warns, “now go.” Ashton rolls his eyes. “He’s a needy one.” He says when Luke is out of ear shot.

“Not really news.” You chuckle.

“I want to talk to you about something.” Ash mentions moving closer. “I wanna put Luke between us.” His hands push up under the hem of your shirt, “but I think you’ll need to bring it up to Luke.”

“Like?”

“Luke fucks you, while I fuck him.” He says quietly, kissing you. “I know we’ve been playing with the dynamic a little bit. You a little less sub and a lot less pawn, but I don’t think he’ll be able to control himself… having both of us.”

“God.” You sigh, “his hips forced by yours? Will I survive?” You chuckle, rubbing your hands along his biceps.

“To wreck you both would be the goal.” He admits, smiling, pulling you in closer.

“Ooh daddy… keep talking dirty to me.” You grin, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

“Luke would be so mad if we did anything right now without him.” Ash chuckles.

“And Luke played grab ass with the flight attendant for half the flight… besides, you just taking care of me, no questions asked for the flight today. Really hot, and I’m ready for you to just bend me over this bed and rail me.” You admit.

“Can’t argue with that, now can I?” He chuckles, pressing his lips to yours. “I like this side of you where you ask for what you want.”

“I’ve found I have a better chance of getting what I want, and I dunno… you’ve made me more confident in myself.” You shrug.

“What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t give my baby what she needed?” He wonders aloud.

“The absolute worst.” You nod.

“I’m not bending you over this bed though.” Ash says, pulling your shirt over your head. You start kissing him and he works on getting the both of you naked before settling in the middle of the bed. He holds his hand out and pulls you into him, swiping the tip of his cock through your wet folds, before pulling you down on top of him. “Figured it’s about time for me to have you like this.” He murmurs, kissing you, “stay quiet for me?”

“Yeah, Ash I will.” You agree, ‘daddy’ didn’t seem appropriate for this kind of intimate.

You tuck your face against ash’s neck as the two of you work together. He groans when your little whines start to reach his ears. “Hey, look at me.” He whispers, waiting for your eyes to meet his. You look up and press your lips to his. He holds the back of your head to hold you close. “Needed this with you.” He murmurs.

“Me too.” You agree, slightly nodding and gripping into him.

“Still gonna fill you with cum for Luke though.” He smirks.

“I’d expect nothing less.” You laugh. “Like this.” You hum, pressing your lips back to his.

“I do too.” He groans. “I never thought we’d get here.” He mumbles into your mouth.

“Fuck.” You whine, head falling back, exposing your neck. Ash moves his lips along your skin, making small marks that’ll be covered by hair or a shirt collar.

“C’mon pretty girl, give it to me.” He murmurs. He can tell you’re close, you’re digging in your nails and letting out small moans. He knows Luke must be able to hear you two, and he’s probably pouting. Not daring to come back and make a scene since he’d been sent away.

“Yeah…” you breathe, nodding your head. “Fill me up Ash. Fill me with your cum.” You moan, you press your cheek to his, letting your whimpers fill his ears.

He groans louder than he means to when you squeeze around him. “Fuck fuck fuck…. always so good.”

“Please ash,” you moan.

“M’right there pretty girl.” He bites your shoulder and you feel the hot cum start to spurt into you, his groan rumbles against your skin. Ash is quickly tilting you back, “keep your hips up for me, wanna keep as much cum as we can in you for Lukey.” He whispers, kissing you. He pulls out slowly and you hold your hips up. He climbs off the bed and grabs your panties, helping you put them back on, he pulls them into place and then helps you off the bed, you watch him clean his cock, and then pull his underwear and a pair of athletic shorts on. He helps you slip his button down on and he chooses a few buttons in the middle to button.

The two of you walk out to the living room, hand in hand and Luke is clearly pouting.

“Did you pick something to eat?” Ash asks, pulling you to the couch to sit with Luke.

“D’you guys fuck?” He retorts.

“I wouldn’t say we fucked, no, but if you’re gonna continue to be a little shit then I’ll happily clean baby girl up.”

You watch Luke’s eyes narrow at Ashton and then he turns and looks at you, his eyes fall to your thighs and he grabs one and pushes it aside, seeing the wet spot seep through the thin cloth. “You full of cum, pretty girl?”

“Yeah.” You nod, watching him.

“I want Thai. Menus on the counter.” He murmurs, eyes not leaving you.

“Mmkay. I’ll order, I trust you’ll take care of the mess?” Ash smirks, he hears Luke’s slurping begin almost immediately after he leaves the room. And he’s not surprised when he walks in and sees you with your ass on the edge of the couch, panties on the floor and Luke on his knees. Ash sits next to you, “Lukey.” He murmurs. “How is it?” Luke's eyes flicker to him momentarily and he grins, he makes eye contact with you while he pushes two fingers in to scoop out cum. “You better give her another orgasm baby.” Ash warns.

Ash enjoys watching you two, he likes Luke on his knees even if it isn’t for him. “Lukey.” You whimper.

Ash gently caresses your face, wanting your attention, “feel good pretty girl? On that already sensitive clit?” He asks, and you nod. “Give her another finger Luke.”

“She’s already got two.” He murmurs.

“She can take 3.” Ash assures him. Luke follows directions and slips a third finger in you, causing you to gasp. Ash kisses your bottom lip, pushes his hand down your body and tangles his fingers in Luke's hair. “Stick your tongue out.” He says to Luke and he does, “now you, my pretty little thing, get your orgasm.” It takes you a minute to get what he means but then you’re working your hips against Luke’s tongue, simultaneously fucking his fingers in the meantime. “That’s it, look at you two.” He grins. “Get yourself off. Use Luke like daddy does.” He encourages. He uses his free hand to pull you into a kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers meant for Luke. “Look at how bad you want it.” He grins. “Just came for me and now look at how bad you need to cum for Luke. My pretty little sluts.” He grins against your mouth.

Your hips stutter a bit, “fuck, Lukey.” You whine. You relax, resting back into the couch.

Luke continues to work his fingers in and out, gently licking at where your juices are spreading on your thighs and around your opening. He pushes up off the floor and sits next to you, he pulls his fingers out and you holds them up, Ash leans across you and starts sucking on them, his hand pushes over your thigh so he could grab Luke’s cock. When Luke pulls his fingers from Ash’s mouth he leans in and kisses him. You can feel Ash’s hand working on Luke’s cock, the Pre cum leaking onto your thigh.

There’s a knock on the door and Ash pulls from the kiss. “Finish him.” He murmurs, “kiss him. He needs it.” He kisses your cheek and pulls away from both of you.

Luke whimpers and you reach over and grab his cock. His lips immediately find yours. You pull out of the kiss and watch him, watch his face scrunch up, lips part. “Wanna ask you something.” You murmur, kissing on his neck while jerking him off.

“Anything you want, baby girl.” He groans when you swipe your thumb over his slit.

“Wanna put you between Ash and I.” You admit, pulling back as he continues to look for your lips.

“Can we come back to this?” He moans.

“Babes, food.” Ash calls.

“I’m almost there!” Luke whines.

You hear Ash coming back toward you. “Thought I told you to kiss him.” He murmurs to you, reaching over the back of the couch and replacing your hand with his. “Let him cum on you.”

You lean in to kiss Luke like Ash wants and Luke bites your lip and then goes on the suck on it before pulling out to moan. You feel his hot cum coat your thigh, “good boy Lukey.” You grin at him, “thank you.”

Ash swipes his finger tips in Luke's cum and holds them up to your mouth. You suck the cum off Ash’s fingers.

“Let’s get you two cleaned up so we can just relax tonight.” Ash grins.

The next couple days are mostly for relaxing, Ash sleeps in, you and Luke explore all the little shops in the neighborhood, letting Ash get some much needed r&r.

“C’mon babes.” He says, rousing you and Luke from a very snuggly cuddled position on the couch. “We’re gonna do some shopping in the city.” He says, smacking your ass. You yelp, and slowly push up off of Luke. “Go get changed.” And sends you and Luke off.

“Hey, I had a question.” Luke says, pulling on a tight pair of black jeans. ‘Mmm’ you hum, turning to him. “The other night, you said something about getting me between you and ash?”

“Oh, yeah… just like… you’d be getting fucked by him while you fuck me?” You shrug, picking a lacy bra to pull on.

“She says so nonchalantly.” He smirks.

“What? It sounds fun for all of us.” You give him innocent eyes.

“You sure you can take that?”

“The goal would be to wreck you.” You move closer to him and rub your hand over his cock. “You in my tight, wet pussy… ash filling you the way you love.”

He lets out a low groan. “Yeah… yes.” He nods, “let’s do it.”

You bite your lip, “mmmkay, I’ll talk to ash.” You squeeze him and then finish getting dressed and throw on some makeup.

When you walk out ahead of Luke, you grin at Ash, “he agreed.”

It’s actually a long day, a lot of flirting between the three of you, Ash getting you in as much lingerie as possible and you of course showing it off for them, Luke got some new pants that showed off his ass.

“Lukey’s got a nice Peachy ass, huh daddy?” You smirk in the empty fitting room area as Luke shows them off for the two of you. Ash watches as you cock your head to the side and Luke turns back to you two.

“Do we like?” He checks.

“We love, peachy.” You murmur.

“I like that.” Ash admits. “Peachy. They look good.”

“That ass don’t quit.” You laugh.

“No it does not and thank god for it.” Ash laughs.

As Luke’s changing you tug on Ashtons shirt, “can we go home?” You ask quietly, “I’m kinda tired.”

“Of course babe, you wanna get dinner first or go straight home?”

“I wanna go straight home.” Luke mentions, standing in front of you two, ready to go. You nod in agreement.

Ash pulls out his wallet and gives you one of his cards, “you two go check out; and I’ll go order something for delivery.” He hands Luke the few items he was getting and then heads off, while you two head to the registers, card in hand.

“Today was fun.” Luke hums, resting his hand on your back. “Nice to see Ash relaxed.”

“Yeah, it is. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so relaxed.” You smile at Luke.

“I forget there was what now seems like a whole life before you.” He murmurs and looks at you for a minute, then leans in to kiss your forehead. “But we're lucky to have you and we both know it. We’re better with you.” He assures you. You squeeze your arm around Luke’s waist.

You guys get home as the doorman is leaving the food in the kitchen. Ashton thanks him and tips him and you send Luke to the bedroom with the bags and work on getting plates out.

“You tryin to have Peachy between us tonight?” You ask.

“Yeah, if you’re up for it. You said you were tired.”

“Well… trying to keep up with both of your attention like that was a lot.” You laugh. “And I wanted to get home.” You wink at him, “color preference for the night.”

“Want you in black.” He nods, “and Yeah, guess we don’t usually tag team you with that much attention.”

“It’s usually me and you with Luke.” You laugh.

Ash pulls you into a kiss, “we gotta treat our girl.” He murmurs.

“Y’all are too good sometimes.”

“No such thing, I love taking care of the two of you. Now. I want you to go put on something sexy, black, easy to get off, and then throw on one of my t shirts and we’ll get started with dinner, and I’ll start teasing our boy… peachy.”

You grin and head off, crossing Luke in the hall. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“Just gonna put on something more comfortable to eat noodles in.” You gesture to your tight jeans. He nods and leaves it be, heading back out to Ash.

You take your time choosing the right black lingerie. You know your best features and you know what parts make Luke happiest and what makes Ash happiest, and ultimately it didn’t matter, just a means to an end.

You head back out, swallowed in one of Ashton’s hoodies and take your seat between them. You eat, laughing and making conversation. Very rarely do you have silent moments between the three of you. And then you’re up, “anyone thirsty?” You ask, reaching for a cup.

“Yeah, let’s do wine though.” Ash mentions, getting up too. He comes up behind you and his hands snake up under the hoodie, first feeling along your panties, “crotchless, nice.” He whispers, and then moving his hands up over your body, bare except the lacy push up bra you’d put on. “Daddy approved baby girl.” He nibbles your ear and then goes for a bottle of wine and you grab the glasses. “What do you guys wanna do tonight?” Ash asks, uncorking the wine.

“I think there’s already a plan brewing.” Luke smirks at the two of you. “The question you asked, the peek of lace I saw when you sat down, Ash all over you… tonight’s the night? I’m between you?” He asks.

“Is that what you want peachy?” You ask.

“I honestly couldn’t think of anything I’d want more.”

“I was hoping you’d say that baby boy.” Ash grins. “Logistics might be a little weird at first… but let’s clean up and see what we come up with babes.” Ash smirks.

The bottle of wine makes it to the bedroom, Ash actually grabbed a second. “Want this to be fun, but good.” He admits.

He kisses you first, pulling you in; and it starts slow. Barely open mouths. His hands slowly move down your body, by the time he grabs your ass, it’s open mouth and lots of tongue. He slowly strips the hoodie off of you. He cups your tits and Luke groans, eyes never leaving the two of you. He holds the back of your neck, kissing you harder before pulling out of the kiss. He slowly turns you toward Luke. “She looks good doesn’t she.” He asks Luke.

“She always does.” Luke agrees, timidly stepping closer.

He wasn’t sure if Ash was inviting him, but you reach for Luke and pull him in, “thanks peachy.” You grin into a kiss with Luke. You carefully turn him so he’s between you and Ash. “You want more play baby boy?” You hum against his mouth.

“Uh-Uh, You fuckers have been teasing me since we got home. I’m fuckin ready.” He growls.

“Have patience, peachy.” Ashton tsks, grabbing his cock over his jeans. “You have no clue what this is gonna be like.” His other hand gently ghosts over Luke’s neck.” A lot of stimulation.” He pulls his head back for a kiss while you undo Luke’s jeans. “But should be fun… and, you know I love watching you two.” He nibbles on Luke’s ear. Ash pulls Luke’s jeans down, “why don’t you two get started for me?” He asks, gently nudging Luke forward.

You watch Luke strip, and then he’s scooping his arm behind your back, and pushing you to the bed. He gets you situated on the pillows and leans in for a kiss. “I love having you like this.” He murmurs.

You push your fingers in his curls and he immediately moves on to exploring your body, hands, lips, anything to drink you in… and then he finds out that your panties are crotchless and his face is immediately between your thighs.

“Can’t ever resist a chance to eat, can you baby boy?” Ash smirks, coming over and pulling you into a kiss. He unhooks your bra and pulls it off and you suck in a sharp breath when he plays with your tits.

“This is supposed to be about Luke.” You murmur.

“It's still about Luke.” He murmurs back, pulling his shirt off. He kneels on the bed, holding you in the kiss. “But you gotta feel good too.” He tangle his fingers in Luke's hair and gently pulls him away from you, “don’t need you too worked up peachy, get her panties off and get in there.” He lets go.

“So crude.” You smirk, and Luke's scrambling to do as he was asked. You lift your hips as Luke pulls your panties down. Ash works his jeans off while Luke settles between your thigh, pushing his cock in with no warning. “Fuckk peachy.” You whine.

“You knew it was coming.” He laughs.

“Thought you’d give a girl some warning, maybe a kiss.” You smirk.

“You’re right. I’m sorry baby girl.” He presses his lips to yours, you let out a giggle.

Ash likes that it’s fun so far, it doesn’t always seem so fun in the bedroom. But he likes all the smiling and giggling that’s going on.

Luke starts slow and you’re hyper aware of everything Ash is doing. Grabbing the lube, getting naked getting in the bed. “I’m gonna touch you, peachy.” Ash warns. His hand smoothes over Luke’s ass, and Luke's hips stutter and then he just settles against you, but you don’t mind. You tangle your fingers into his hair and kiss him while Ash works on opening him up. “Think you’re ready.” Ash murmurs, 5 minutes later.

Luke agrees and you watch, him still buried in you, as they work out the logistics and get settled. Luke’s barely holding it together when your thighs are pulled on top of his, with Ash knelt behind him and buried inside as well. His breathing is already shallow and Ash has only pushed in.

“You ok, peachy?” You ask, reaching up to touch his chest.

“Yeah…” he sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes as Ash slowly pulls his hips back.

“Daddy filling you so good?” You ask.

“Yeah…” he barely nods, and Ash’s hips press against his.

Ash only gives him a couple more slow, shallow thrusts before he’s picking up the pace and it’s having more of an impact on you. He’s holding one if your thighs, and Luke’s hip. Luke’s holding your hand and the headboard and you are trying to touch him in a soothing way.

Taking Ash was never easy, no matter how many times he’d done it, but it was always worth it.

“You ok baby?” Ash asks, kissing Luke’s neck. Luke nods, “Mmkay.” The first harder thrust doesn’t do a lot for you, but Luke stopped most of the impact. “Relax peachy, the point is to fuck you both.” He reminds him.

And Luke does, because the next one gets you, and as they get harder, Ash does more directing. “Rub her clit baby.” He groans, “you feel so fuckin good.”

When Luke presses his thumb to your clit, you jolt, “fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You moan, “fuck me… fuck us, daddy please.”

He smirks at you over Luke’s shoulder and then presses another kiss to Luke’s neck, “you ready baby boy? I can feel you’re close, and you know what having your tight ass does to me.” He groans, teeth skimming Luke’s skin.

“Yeah, yes.” Luke groans, his eyes open and he looks down at you as Ash picks up the pace, fucking him into you. It turns into a mess of moans and skin. “Daddy, fuck… I’m cumming.” Luke barely warns before you feel him start to cum.

He collapses against your chest and you immediately wrap your arms around him. “So good peachy.” You praise him, kissing his head. You watch as Ash pulls out and starts jerking himself off, quickly finishing on Luke’s back. You pull Luke into a quick kiss.

And Ash is quickly moving, getting something to clean you up with. He wipes Luke's back, and cleans both of their cocks and finishes cleaning you and Luke up. He collapses on his back in the middle of the bed. “C’mere babes.” He beckons, and you and Luke, lay on either side, cuddling into his chest. Luke’s spent, entirely. It shows on his face and in the way he moves his body. Ash pets his hair and kisses his forehead, and his fingers snake their way between your thighs. You look up at him, and he presses his lips to yours, “you think I didn’t notice you didn’t cum?” He asks.

“We both noticed.” Luke agrees, throwing his arm across your back.

“It’s fine, this was about Luke.” You murmur, looking between them.

“No.” Luke shakes his head and moves closer to kiss you. “You can say it was about me; but it was about all three of us. You’re gonna cum too.”

“Peachy’s right.” Ash agrees, working his fingers in the slow rhythm you like best with him. You close your eyes and just let him work you, letting out your little whines as Luke leans across Ash’s chest to kiss on your neck and shoulder.

“Daddy, peachy..” you moan, squeezing around Ash’s fingers.

“There she is.” Ash grins, letting his fingertips rub gently over your clit a few more times, before pulling his fingers out and holding them up for Luke to lick.

“This was fun.” Luke murmurs once Ash’s fingers were clean. “Can we do it again sometime?” He settles back next to Ash.

“Absolutely, if baby girl is down.” Ash agrees.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” You grin.

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @therealmrshale @fallfrxmgrace @lukashemmos @justarandomgirlthatyoudontknow @5sos-microwave @madbomb @sweetheartmendes1000 @literally-anythin @lfwallscouldtalk @clemmingstylins0n @ccnicole02 @lustingfor5sos @buteverythingiscopacetic @rosesfromcth @bodaciousbonzi1996 @ashtontotheirwin @captainam-erika-trash @xxgendurvikixx @jazzyangel242 @loti18 @bluebabycal @rhiannonmichellee @iovehemmings @glitterycalum1205 @katcontreras @cashtonasfuck @ificanthaveu @kindahoping4forever @talkfastdrums @here-for-the-uproars @youngbloodchild @canterburyfiction @opheliaaurora @queer-5sos @banditocth @babylonbaby13

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

#daddys home #caught in between #poly!lashton #lashton #ashton irwin #daddy ashton #luke hemmings #wtf luke #love this relationship #let me know what you thought #cass #5sos #5 seconds of summer

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606writings · 4 years ago

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SC: Stray kitten [Lucien]

A/N: You can find this same scenario with Victor and Gavin too! Btw, someone requested this and I couldn’t help feel inspired by Lucien’s pet karma where he’s holding a white beautiful cat💗 Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff.

Word count: 1,003.

Lucien had found a stray kitten one day on his way home from the office late at night. The kitten was a cute white furball with beautiful blue eyes, she was all muddy and dirty, letting Lucien know she was having a hard time on the streets.

He doubted for a second when he found it in a dark alley crying loudly. Lucien likes cats, but he wasn’t the best person to take care of a pet, though he definitely wanted to take the little thing home with him.

When you found out about it the next morning you offered to take it with you, since the next few days Lucien would be pretty busy with a new research he was in charge of. He was relieved to have you living next door at times like these.

He didn’t think it would be a problem for you at first, but what he wasn’t aware of was that you actually weren’t sleeping enough, she wouldn’t stop crying every single night ever since you brought her home.

You had to arrange a place for the kitten to sleep in your room so she wouldn’t feel alone and start making a huge scandal, the neighbors would start complaining and they would definitely try to kick you out.

Not to mention you had to take her to the vet several times, she was a very young kitten and needed a lot of cares since she was a stray. You had to buy meds for a few small injuries she had, a special treatment for worms, and the respective vaccines.

Taking care of a kitten was certainly one of the hardest things ever, but you weren’t mad about it. Even though you initially offered to take her to help Lucien while he was busy with work, you actually started loving the white little furball with all your heart, she was so sweet and affectionate.

After almost two weeks of not coming home for anything else than taking a shower and changing clothes, Lucien finally finished his research successfully. He was coming home late at night and tried to call you to know how were you doing, since he hadn’t seen you ever since he left the kitten with you.

You weren’t picking up so he assumed you were already asleep. But when he arrived his apartment, he stopped for a moment in front of your door when he heard a small, but non stopping, cry coming from the inside.

He furrowed his brows before gently trying to open your door, just to find you laying in the couch deep asleep, half of your body hanging and almost touching the floor, with the small kitten over your chest, crying for attention just like the baby she was.

Lucien let out a small chuckle, he was witnessing the cutest view ever. Without wasting a second, he brought out his phone to take a picture, trying not to wake you up.

When he finally registered that perfect moment secretly in his phone, he sighed feeling a bit guilty, now realizing how tired you must have been the last couple days. He took the kitten from your arms carefully, and started stroking her hair to calm her down, until the kitten was finally asleep into his arms.

Before going back to his own apartment, Lucien leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and whispered:

“Thank you for your hard work…”

The next morning you couldn’t help waking up with panic after noticing the cat was nowhere to be seen in your house. Then you heard a calm knock in your door and a gentle and soft voice speak up from outside:

“Are you awake now, Y/N?” Lucien asked.

You opened the door just to find him standing with a bright smile and the kitten in his arms playing with Lucien’s shirt.

“I’m sorry, I passed by last night and took the kitten, you were asleep so I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” You sighed relieved, and then took a step back to let him come inside.

“Did I scare you?” He quietly laughed while stepping in.

“Kind of…” You replied embarrassed.

“I’m sorry for not asking how you were doing before. I should’ve known it would be hard to take care of the kitten alone.”

“No, no! Not at all! It’s okay.”

Lucien looked around the apartment and noticed different places were adapted so the kitten would be safe walking around, you even had a few toys laying around in the floor, but then he spotted a few notes in the kitchen counter.

“If you needed to buy something, I could have payed for it.” He said, reading them and realizing they were vet receipts.

“I just needed a few things for her, it wasn’t such a big deal.” You tried to brush it off nervously.

“But this meds are a bit pricey, right?”

“Uhh… I… Not that much!” You said embarrassed.

Lucien laughed once again with a husky tone, and with the cat still in his arms, he approached you until being just a few inches away from your face.

“Don’t worry, from now on I’ll take care of everything.” He leaned a bit more and with his breath caressing your ear he said: “I’ll treat you to dinner to thank you…”

“There’s no need to!” You excused yourself trying to step back from him, but he placed his hand in your back to hold you close.

“Sorry for not being here when you needed me.” He said looking at you with love in his eyes. “I know I said I would take care of it, but why don’t we share responsibilities?”

“Eh?” You asked confused, distracted by his touch and the hypnotizing look in his eyes.

“That would be the perfect excuse to spend more time together, don’t you think?”

You blushed from hearing his proposal and nodded shyly, before feeling Lucien’s lips land against yours in a gentle but still passionate kiss.

#mlqc #mlqc x reader #mlqc lucien #mlqc lucien x reader #mr love queen's choice #evol x love #evol x producer #otome games #otome x reader #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #lucien x mc #mlqc simon

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psychemeanscure · 4 years ago

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PART 13{ A part with a one whole of Jang Taeyoung. Yayks! Enjoy reading y’all~}

“Good day, Mr. Jang.”

“What’s good in a day when I can only see your ugly face Mr. Kim.”

The prosecutor groan in defeat indeed. It was his third day to be summoned on interrogation and as usual had to deal with the annoying interrogator who just only getting on his nerves every time with its lame question which even too obvious to be needed explanation. Thus with a bored breath he insults. “Can we just start your uninteresting play so I can go in peace, Mr. disloyal prosecutor?”

But seems like the latter got used to it already that he only got a smirking shaking of head instead of its irritated retractions that usually leads him to face its attacking hand who can’t even push through because of his threatening defense from the one-way tinted mirror, voice connecting to an in-charge officer behind it.

“Oh no, no, no. You would rather not do insults until today Mr. Jang, especially now that a solid headache will get you busy for the time being.”

A different counter he heard from the prosecutor somehow. ‘What lame evidences this disloyal dog has to bark again?’ as a simple thought slip into its mind but not too long to laze him later. “Oh yeah? Let me see then, Mr. Prosecutor.” Thus the latter starts then.

And before Mr. Kim could finish his set of litany?

He was already laughing tremendously. He never gone wrong of his instincts with the Prosecutor indeed. “What the hell! That’s it, Mr. Prosecutor? The last time was because of a certain connection from a gang syndicate who’s no longer existed, and now about an old news of SIESTA drug which people involved was long gone? Come on sir, don’t you have more to give to excite me other than this? I’m getting sleepy already.”

Piercing eyes starts to bore from the prosecutor as it only takes a second for a shift of expression. Dropping the document, it holds with vigor. “Okay. Since none of this wavered you still Mr. fearless guy. I might just share the last card instead. Are you ready?”

It caught his interest indeed as a twitched brows came after him. “And what is that, Mr. Kim?”

Thus its clasping hands initially rest on the table after purposely turning off the button for voice over, facing him with confident arrogance. “Zilo Alcaziar. I’m sure it rang your bell, pretty isn’t it?”

His thoughts say it is, yes. He was not surprise either since he knew she’s obviously the one who tip it off, so he only waited sternly in silence to his proceeding sentences. “Son of the greatest gambler Veeros Alcaziar who’s apparently became your business partner. A treacherous partnership or shall we say, with Sung Eunyoung?”

A flick of his brows came in then as he leans a little forward as if to make sure he wasn’t ghost out by his own instinct. “Come again, Mr. Prosecutor?”

Something’s off and he can feel it. From the mere mention of her name he knew there is. If he’s truly working for her, he would rather not involve her name in any means. Unless...

“Who told you that?”

His cold words right then only to be responded by a success laugh from the prosecutor as it leans as well enough to create a whisper to his face. “Sung Eunyoung. Who else would it be? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor you Mr. Jang. I tell you, she’s one hell of a b*---“

“I’m asking, who told you filthy dog?”

The latter has been dragged closer onto him definitely as he forcefully grabs its necktie. Nevertheless, its confidence still unbothered by his actions. “Why? You cannot believe it? You’ve been accustomed to her? Oh my, you shouldn’t have trusted her too much Mr. Jang. Look what happened to you. Seems like she became your weakness as well.”

It even starts to tap his shoulder following another words that may surely stirred him. “Let me give you an advice, Mr. Jang Taeyoung.” Its first word which he intended to halt after a closer lean by his ear. “If you go on a hunt down, it’s always the other as the best option.”

And he confirmed it. Finally, as he grips its necktie tight enough for choking, earning a panic grant he expected. Burning eyes fixated to the stubborn dog, gritted teeth resurfaced. He speaks. “I might be reckless in some way but I’m not stupid enough to understand that, moron. Now if you don’t want to die right here right now, then better answer my f*cking question. Eh?”

The prosecutor was struggling, no doubt. Unfortunately for him, his assaulted angle isn’t obvious to the officer in-charge’s CCTV monitor that it looks like he was the one dominantly threatening him, given its bending body block Jang Taeyoung’s move and the voice over button he turn off under the table. “A-ahck. Wa-it. Mr.—Ja-ng. A-ahck.” Had no choice but plead to him. But Jang wouldn’t dare. Why would he? Instead, he chokes him much tighter. With surrendering tap with his gripping hands, it gives in.

“A-alca-ziar. V-vee-ros A-alca-ziar.”

It only takes a second then before he let go. Hearing the gasping sound of Mr. Kim who is still trying to catch his own breath the moment it sits back to its chair. “See? It’s easy Mr. Prosecutor. Now tell me more.”

“W-why should I?” still half catching air prosecutor that only made him decide for another assault. “Why? So you would not be getting more like this?”

“A-Argh!”

Earning another grunt as he vigorously steps on its shoe under the table indeed. “F*ck! Fine. Fine, alright.”

So the rest follows as one thing’s for sure.

This game they were playing is one hell of a dangerous pit ride.

*Beep*

“Bullsh*t! Screw you, woman. Tss. Whatever. Why am I concerning you though? You even expose me anyway. Ugh. F*ck off!”

Tossing his phone with irritation by a nearby couch from her unanswered calls as he glances his own portrait which she also saw last time. Passing his own banters on it as if it was a different person to scold that he even points a finger with assertion. “This is what I’m telling you sucker. On so why? Why did you have to get sti--- F*ck! The hell will I admit either.”

He shifts into firmly punching its side wall when he decided to stand up, appearing like a strict lecturer. “This is all because of you, woman! You, Sung Eunyoung. I swear you’re going to p—sh*t! why can’t I even cursed you! See, Jang Taeyoung? You’re in fault here. F*ck!”

His proceeding soliloquy indeed for he can’t help but to clench a jaw out of frustration as he moved by the glass window. And with a hard slam of palm on it and a following voice of his assistant, he’s obviously pissed.

“What?!”

The deafening reply he did that made the latter being surprised yet only takes a second to regain composure. “Zilo Alcaziar is in the VIP lobby, Boss.”

Its simple word which gives him a scorching deep breath as well. Cursing another headache, he needed to deal with. Thus he responded a piercing nod to his assistant before leaving him again.

“Brother!”

The thrilled greeting from Zilo which only came back from entertaining itself to talking with female receptionist by the counter. Unbothered by his impatient glare trailing its every move till occupying a seat across him. “I was informed that you’ve been waiting on the lobby only to find out you’re actually lurking for bitches instead? Tss. You are wasting my time then.”

“Oh come on brother. As if you didn’t miss it either. Like hey, you’re a single man again. Right? Unless you can’t move on with sister. I bet you do.”

A frown came to him then. Groaning with irritation. “Can you just shut up, or am I going to pull your tongue in a second. Why are you here anyway?”

His straight banter just to be responded by a nonchalant behavior of the other as it even leans comfortably with the seat it occupied. “What do you think?”

“And what is that?”

“Tss. Of course brother, I’m here to continue as your ally.”

Thus a silence came after. He was halt by the thought, yes but not long enough to give the young Alcaziar a stern look. “I’m not in the mood for joking Zilo.” His threatening words then just to be responded by its shaking of head. “Brother I know you’re tempted, don’t deny. Besides, watching your situation right now I’m the only one you’ve got. Punch me if it isn’t true, eh?”

Truth. He’s the only one he got. He’s been calling the investors of the Casino Hotel, trying to convince at least half of them to side him and obviously got declined. Majority of them aren’t even answering. Hell that Sung Eunyoung’s power, who else can he control when she already got them all. Dammit!

“What makes you decide otherwise then, brother?”

“Because as you said, I’m fighting against my father and I truly am. So why not give it a try. I’m getting bored anyway. Father with sister and you with me. Isn’t it glamorous? We’re fighting each other’s past comrade. I can actually imagine the results. Wohoo.”

Zillo was even whistling while gesturing a blow like a bomb on his hand, arrogantly gullible of his own idea. Right there for some reason, the prosecutor’s advice pop into his ears. ‘Guess the disloyal dog makes sense after all.’

His thoughts finally decided. He’s considering the challenge indeed that for the last time after their talk ended, she called her once again yet for the nth time she remains unanswered. If it this what they call war, then war it is.

“Let the best venturer win, Sung Eunyoung.”

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inuyashaographer · 5 years ago

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How Important Contact is to Kagome & Inuyasha’s Relationship

Some may recall that a good time back I did a post called "Inuyasha and Human Contact" which was largely focused on how Inuyasha grew up and how overtime, his time around Kagome allows him to get his humanity back. I've been asked to do something of a chronological rundown of his contact with Kagome over the course of the series.

Now remember this is only covering physical contact, hand holding and the like. I am also going to be skipping some of the things that happened in the beginning that involve this, don't think anything before the point where he tells Kagome to climb on his back while pursuing Lord Frog technically count since most of that is more because things need to be done, not him wanting to do thing.

I'm also not going to cover every instance of them being next to one another or Kagome holding onto Inuyasha's arm... instances of that become numerous enough, so numerous in fact that there isn’t much of a need for the “big moments”, it’s established so much by that point that’s it’s just kind of a natural thing for them, by then these two are always next to one another.

In the beginning it's actually Inuyasha that initiates a lot of the contact between the two of them, it takes Kagome a little while to reciprocate that contact, before they both reciprocate it back and forth to one another.

Chapter #19: This marks the first time that he willingly asks Kagome to get onto his back to get over the castle wall. He's more than happy to have Kagome there by this point, and makes it a point of argument when Nobunaga tries to follow.

Chapter #22: Marks the first time they actually are sitting next to one another, before this they're always kept at a distance from one another, but here they are both sitting on the blanket Kagome laid out.

Chapter #34: Inuyasha panics when he realizes that Kagome may be dead and that her spirit is talking to him before she leaves, he lunges out and tries to grab her hand, and actually does. It takes him a moment to realize that she hasn't gone anywhere. This marks the first time these two actually held hands, even Kagome is taken aback by him doing it, naturally he immediately moves his hand away after he realizes he's holding her hand, but not before a noticeable blush forms on his cheeks.

Chapter #37: I skipped an instance like this at the beginning, his reason for grabbing Kagome and putting her on his back was to race off after the Carrion Crow, or when they raced off to fight Yura. In those instances he had a reason, in this instance, he doesn't, he doesn't want to get involved in the situation one way or another, but when he realizes that Kagome's worried and she will not stop until she saves Mayu he changes his mind, grabs her and races off trying to help her.

Chapter #40: Some might wonder why I am including him giving Kagome, Tessaiga and why I didn't include him giving her the Robe of the Fire Rat during the Yura arc. I consider that latter more of a necessity (and he also had not yet called her by her real name), in this case it's still kind of necessity but he's trusting her with his sword to protect her and Nazuna.

Chapter #42: Inuyasha asks her if he can lay his head on his lap. By far the closets the two have gotten thus far, and it's actually Inuyasha asking for that closeness. The confessions he makes after this only adds to the scene.

Chapter #45: Marks the closest the two of them have been to one another, when Kagome sits down besides Inuyasha. Second time that Inuyasha grabs onto her hand when Kagome questions him about the similarities to Kikyo, she believes he hates her because of that, he's even leaned in a little closer to her when he tries to explain that, that isn't the case.

Chapter #52: After Miroku runs off with Kagome's bike and the shards, Kagome sits down beside him and apologizes to him. He leans a little away in surprise and tries to play off his worry to be about the shards, not Kagome herself. Inadvertently admitting that he was more worried about Kagome than the jewel, the flustered blush only adds to the scene. By this point, Kagome on his back is kind of commonplace for him.

Chapter #54: When Miroku, does what he does, reaching out and rubbing Kagome's butt, Inuyasha immediately moves his hand around Kagome and pulls her towards him. Kagome would turn and hug up close to him. When Miroku makes the proposal to Kagome to have his child, Inuyasha immediately puts distance between the two of them, moving Kagome behind him and away from Miroku.

Chapter #56: When they realize that the Hell Painter is closeby, Miroku runs off with Kagome's bike, Kagome is prepared to run after him before Inuyasha grabs her and races off with her on his back. It's becoming a bit of a habit by this point.

Chapter #62: After Kagome is knocked out when Sesshomaru throws Inuyasha in her direction, Inuyasha moves his hand to the side of her face and cradles her cheek, right before he turns and gives Sesshomaru a death-glare for what he’s done.

Chapter #64: Inuyasha again reaches out and grabs onto her hand, this turns into a hug next to the well together. This is followed by him making the decision that being around him is far too dangerous for her.

Chapter #70: Kagome runs over to Inuyasha after she gets through the well and hugs him. He's taken aback a little. This is actually the first time that Kagome initiates the contact.

Chapter #73: By far and large the closest they have been up to this point, Kagome leans up against Inuyasha. Inuyasha freezes in places not expecting her to be so close to him. Asking the reason why, only leads to him revealing that he was thinking that something more was going on than just Kagome being scared. It's actually incredible how rigid he actually seems to get from the mere fact that she's leaning up close to him, he's completely rattled and flustered. When the princess their watching raises up Kagome immediately clings to Inuyasha wrapping her arms around him.

Chapter #78: Sitting close to one another while they're talking about what Inuyasha said to Kagome and what he said to Kikyo. This is the moment where he tells Kagome that he wants to be around her and that he feels relaxed when she is around him, but cannot forgot about Kikyo and has to find a way to make up for what happened between the two of them. This scene shifts from them starting out side-to-side, with Kagome having her back to him, and Inuyasha sitting upright facing forward, this turns into them leaning back to back against one another.

Chapter #111: After Kagome blasts Naraku to shreds at his castle, Kagome explains the reason she got angry, was due to how Naraku was mocking Sango, and Inuyasha, a flustered and blushing Inuyasha walks over and casually sits down right next to her (at this point he's just used to being next to her), trying to play it off as a dumb reason, but pretty obviously happy to hear that.

Chapter #112: The first time that Inuyasha just casually falls asleep while riding around on the back of her bike, this is a rarity seeing him so relaxed in the Feudal Era, being next to and alone with Kagome likely helps that fact.

Chapter #124: Inuyasha grabs onto Kagome's hand when she questions his reason for being there. He's taken aback by her asking about Kikyo, when the whole reason he was there was because he remembered her. He's scared, not only because he almost lost her and himself, but he also believes that Kagome has lost faith in him. After the experience with the Illusionary Death, realizing that the day that Kikyo and himself turned on one another that he lost his humanity, faith and heart, only to regain them all when he met Kagome, has him in a very heightened state of mind.

Chapter #135: Think this one tends to get looked over. Koga tries to play the protector throughout all of this (despite him being the reason that Kagome is there to begin with), despite the fact that the wolves keep her safe, nothing stops Kagome from running over to Inuyasha and hugging him when she sees him. We'd get a repeat of this scene later during the Band of 7 arc, but it's amazing to watch it happen right around the time that Koga and Inuyasha started fighting over her, up until the point where I believe even Koga didn't want to admit he'd lost later.

Chapter #140: After the fight, and the back and forth of the two of them debating whether they should go back or not, Kagome decides to when she realizes that Inuyasha came to her time to see her. They reconcile after a few moments before Kagome leans up against Inuyasha (and it's by far the furthest one yet, her head is fully resting on his shoulder), Inuyasha, who is blushing, doesn't seem to mind this one bit.

Chapter #157: Kagome hugs him after she returns him back to his normal self, the move flusters him and leaves him blushing.

Chapter #158: In a moment under the stars they sit close to one another and share drinks, they both have a moment where they talk about how Inuyasha was in his demon form, Inuyasha promises her that no matter what happen he will never forgot her. (A nice connection to the Illusionary Death I might add.)

Chapter #164: When Koga arrives, Inuyasha naturally steps between Koga and Kagome. While they are sitting down and talking with Koga, Inuyasha and Kagome are extremely close to one another as well, Kagome is almost leaning on him.

Chapter #171: Not technically human contact, but he sits next to the well looking into it wondering what Kagome is doing in her time. This is more wanting her around him, than physical contacting. Cheating? Eh maybe, but the end result is going to be the same.

Chapter #176: Kagome is the one to initiate the hand-holding, Inuyasha returns it, this marks the first time that they both hold onto one another's hand rather than just one of them grabbing the others.

Chapter #182: Inuyasha draps his arm around Kagome's shoulders and pulls her in closer to him. He also admits that he actually worried about what could have happened to her and apologizes for him not being there for her.

Chapter #187: Kagome draps her arms around Inuyasha's neck leaning up against his back as she does so and hugging him, Inuyasha in turn brings his hand up and gripping his hand onto hers. It's a pretty close mirror to what happened previously, Kagome supporting Inuyasha in a moment of pain.

Chapter #195: After the arrow misses, Kagome falls down, and we see Inuyasha instinctively wrapping his arms around Kagome in a hug to support her.

Chapter #198: After the battle with Tsubaki, Inuyasha carries Kagome away on his back, this is where Inuyasha again apologizes for him always getting her into trouble, and how she is stuck with him, but is shocked when he hears Kagome brush that off and tell him that she's with him because she wants to be with him.

Chapter #224: Ah, the scene where Inuyasha falls asleep on Kagome's bed. Also marks the first time (and as far as we see only time) he spent the night over at Kagome's house too.

Chapter #225: Koga appears, naturally Inuyasha makes sure to put distance between the two, standing between Koga and Kagome.

Chapter #229: Can I count him hiding behind Kagome for protection from Sango? Believe it counts.

Chapter #233: Kagome stays outside with Inuyasha (who has the giant boulder sealed to his hand), not wanting him to feel lonely. Naturally he tells her she doesn't have to stay with him, and of course when she gets up to leave, believing she is bothering him, he quickly tells her she’s not and she stays.

Chapter #244: Inuyasha cries and clutches Kagome to his chest when he believes that Kagome has died. Marking the first time he's cried in the series (or if we go by what Myoga says, never, at least as far as he's known Inuyasha).

Chapter #245: Koga appears, Inuyasha literally swipes Koga's hands away from Kagome. I'd also further point out that even as Koga is trying to scold Inuyasha for putting Kagome in danger, you can see Kagome's hand on Inuyasha's arm, she's also very close to his side when they stand up.

Chapter #249: Inuyasha notices that Kagome isn't on his back as they're traveling, it bothers him so much that he stops the entire group to find out what happened. At this point to him it's kind of how things are supposed to be, and when she's not around it bothers him.

Chapter #265: Believing Inuyasha to be dead, Kagome lunges over at Inuyasha when he's revealed to be alive, crying and hugging him. A nice connection to when Inuyasha cried and hugged her before, and this more or less was the scene where Koga lost (though he wasn't willing to admit that). Inuyasha returns the hug and apologizes for making her worry.

Chapter #285: After Kagome's revelation that she loves Inuyasha and breaks free from the control of the baby, she falls back into Inuyasha's arms who clutches her closely to him.

Chapter #286: After a discussion where Kagome tells Inuyasha that she understands he has a duty to protect Kikyo, she leans in and snuggles up to him.

Chapter #287: Not really actual contact, but he does admit that he came to see her because he wanted to see her. It's hard to actually pin-point when it started, but this is largely where Kagome starts to hold onto Inuyasha's arm when she is standing next to him.

Chapter #332: This is another technicality, but here Inuyasha pretty much makes it clear that she doesn't need her bicycle (he didn't like it anyway), he's more than happy to carry her around (not that he hasn't and already doesn't mind carrying her around up to this point).

Chapter #339: Koga appears, and Inuyasha moves Kagome away from Koga and behind him. Of course this time things don't work out as he intended...

Chapter #355: Inuyasha loses control of his demon side inside of the demon's belly, while fusing the shards into the Tessaiga. Kagome lunges forward and grabs onto him in a tight hug, stabilizing and purifying the evil in the shards for him to get off the attack needed to free them.

Chapter #356: After escaping the belly of the demon they spend a long moment in a tree together, Inuyasha worries about the injuries she sustained caused by the demon's stomach acid, she assures him that they're fine and they are all safe because of him, they both lean up against one another as they look at the scenery in front of them.

Chapter #380: Koga appears, and Inuyasha moves Kagome away from Koga and behind him.

Chapter #382: Koga appears, and Inuyasha moves Kagome away from Koga and behind him. Haha.

Chapter #392: Inuyasha once more takes a nap in Kagome's bed.

Chapter #411: Carrying a tired ot Kagome who recently failed a small test because of her absences, he tries to cheer her up and tells her "I'll always be with you." Naturally it works.

Chapter #439: Koga hugs Kagome goodbye and Inuyasha tries to hit him with Tessaiga before he runs off.

Chapter #452: Koga grabs onto Kagome's hands, naturally that's not happening and he once again tries to attack Koga with the Tessaiga.

Chapter #520: I could pretty much put down this entire chapter to be perfectly honest. It being the last instance (at least full-chapter instance of the modern era) of Kagome and Inuyasha together. The almost-kiss being the biggest factor.

Chapter #556: "You're wrong! That is not the reason Kagome was born! Kagome taught me how to smile, how to trust people. It's because of Kagome that I have friends. Relying on my companions. Shedding tears for other people. True strength and kindness. Kagome taught me them all. Kagome was born so that she could meet me and I, too, for Kagome's sake.

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi

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haikyuuscreaming · 5 years ago

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hi um so no one requested this but like i went through something basically like this and cried a whole lot about it and i dont think its even that angsty or makes sense but i just barfed it up as a vent fic so haha funny imi’s stupid and writes about her emotional exhaustion as an x reader

heres an unrequited iwaizumi x reader :D (SORRY THIS ISNT FDSKFJ this isnt really a tumblr drabbles its more of an ao3 oneshot so)

(also sorry if none of the fic makes sense or flows well,,, i just wanted to get this out)

Ever since your first day at Kitagawa Daiichi, you found yourself with a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

You couldn’t help it. As soon as you saw him in your school-orientation group the week before school started, you couldn’t help but feel something more than a friendly glow. You were already sitting with your orientation group, but once you saw him join the group (albeit sort of late), your stomach practically flipped with butterflies.

He even sat down next to you.

The rest of the orientation went more than fine. Your delight when Iwaizumi started conversations with you was absolutely immeasurable. Even when your group was performing normal get-to-know-you activities, your heart seemed to race every time he made eye contact with you.

“Your name’s [Surname] [Name], right?” Iwaizumi asked, tapping his pencil against his desk. The orientation paper had asked for the names of three people in your group.

“Yeah.. and you’re Iwaizumi Hajime…?” You didn’t really need to question it, but you did so anyway to be polite.

“Mhm. Uh-- sorry, how do you spell your name?” Your heart picked up its pace once you heard him attempt to spell it out. To your feeble, gleeful surprise, he spelled it right.

“Oh! Um, that’s actually how you spell it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you and your seventh grade self felt like beaming brighter.

His impression on you had lasted.

In fact, that first impression on you had made your school year much better somehow.

Initially, you wanted to go to Yukigaoka with your best friends, but you ended up getting into Kitagawa Daiichi. You were miserable at the prospect of going into a school without your best friends that had been with you through thick and thin, but you lit up once you saw your schedule and found you had quite a few classes with Iwaizumi.

Throughout middle school, you made new friends and became close with Iwaizumi and his friend Oikawa Tooru. They eventually became one of your primary friend groups: you and them. Your number one best friend though, you found, was a new friend you made, Hanae.

Maybe the first mistake you made was telling her that you had a crush on Iwaizumi.

Okay, well, you didn’t tell her- she found out? Forced it out of you? Either way, not a big deal, you two are basically sisters now. But you did kind of wish she would stop mentioning it so much.

“Look, [Name]-chan~” she would always laugh and point at him discreetly whenever he was in the vicinity. “It’s your future boyfriend.”

It was always the same, every time.

“Would you shut up,” you complain, smacking her shoulder lightly which earned a laugh from her. “He could be listening!”

“Just telling the truth~” Hanae would always flash a smile back.

Things changed, though.

On a hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you noticed their glances at each other-- Iwaizumi's being weary, while Oikawa’s was cheeky and sly.

“Hey, what are you two smiling about now?” you laugh lightly. The varied stares they gave you made you quiet down. “No, seriously, are you keeping secrets?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa chimes in. “Iwa-chan has big news though!”

Your heart rate spikes a little bit and you feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. And you're blushing too. Under Iwaizumi's warm, sharp gaze, you feel like melting under his radiance. “Eh? Haji, spit it out!!” Your anxiety falsely passes off as intrigue and excitement.

Flushing a little bit, Iwaizumi scratches his neck and smiles at you, “I wanted you to be the second to know, I have a girlfriend.”

…

You're shell-shocked.

If Oikawa picks up on it, he doesn't say so. “Seeee, [Name]-chan, I know we didn't believe it, but Iwa-chan finally snatched himself a girl!” Iwaizumi responds with a swift punch to the gut.

“I….” you can't find the words. You force yourself to smile like it's the only thing you can do. “Haji, that’s amazing!! Who is it? I didn't even know you had a crush…” Your voice falters but you push your words out as if your life depended on it. How did you manage to sound so genuinely happy when it felt like your entire world was about to crash?

Iwaizumi flushes again and you feel jealousy seep in. You so wish it was you that he blushes for. “Haha, yeah. Oikawa didn't know either for once; I didn't tell anyone, you know? Wasn't really sure yet. But it’s Aika-chan.” The way his face lights up burns a hole in your heart.

He even uses -chan for her. How special. The bitter envy feels like acid rising in your throat, and you feel queasy. Like you could keel over, cry, and puke out your guts.

“Ohhh, Aika-san is cute,” you make yourself say.

(Honestly, you're so good at lying and saying this wrong but right bullshit, you’d think you're a sociopathic robot or something.)

“Mmm… don't get jealous though, [Name]-chan, you're cuter!” Oikawa hums and you laugh loudly, hoping that you'll fake it till you make it. “Tell her how it happened, Iwa-chan. It was hilaaarious.”

The poison in you burns harsher but you nod along.

“Don't tell me what to do, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi bites almost playfully, before meeting your blank gaze with his kind, gently blazing eyes that always made you weak. Right now, you were not weak in the good way. “Aika-chan confessed to me yesterday near the sakura tree after we had class together… and I don't know, I guess it really clued me in that the feelings I had were real.”

(Iwaizumi looks so happy and content that it makes you want to be happy too, but you honestly feel like doing nothing but crying.)

“Aww, that's so sweet~” Your voice gets softer and you hate yourself so much for sounding weak.

But before either boy can reply, the panic and agony sets in. You feel your eyes glass up and your body tense, and your mind is begging you not to break down.

Unfortunately, they both notice.

“[Name]-chan? Are you okay?? You look kinda sick~” Oikawa sounds cheery and playful but his eyes convey an undercurrent of worry.

And bless Iwaizumi’s stupidly handsome oblivion, he blinks at your worriedly and puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Do you need to go to the nurse? School’s still open I think, and it's right around the corner-”

Fuck him and his mind-meltingly handsome everything. Just his voice and his sharp gaze makes you want to cry harder and collapse to him.

“I-I have to go, sorry guys,” You fucking despise how cracked your voice is becoming as your facade slips. “I promised Hanae that I'd go get bubble tea with her. See you Monday.”

Eyes stinging, you turn as quick as you can and ignore their confused voices.

(The tears flow like acid and you feel like dissolving from the inside out.)

Months pass and you deny your horrifyingly strong yet compressed feelings.

You greet Aika and Iwaizumi in the hallways, and you know that you're happy because Iwaizumi is, and that's honestly all you could ask for your long-time crush (turned bitter love). You even talk to Aika freely during shared classes, just to disguise your depressing jealousy.

Every time you see them share a discreet kiss or grip each other's hands, you genuinely wish you were dying. It sure feels like you are.

(Like you're drowning, like your lungs are burning up and you're begging for oxygen, begging to breathe in Iwaizumi's love that's reserved for someone else. It hurts a lot but he's happy.)

(So you have to be happy.)

Hanae spares you sympathetic looks. “Come on, wifey-chan, you're married to meee. Get over him, he doesn't deserve you if he chose Aika the troll over you.”

“That's mean,” you sigh and crumble onto Hanae. “Aika-san’s nice. And pretty. And talented. It's no wonder Haji would choose her.”

“Stopppp! You’re so much more than Troll-chan, okay?!?” Hanae’s pep talk is brash, but you appreciate the charm. “If Iwaizumi-kun doesn’t see that, I’ll punch him.”

You laugh lightly at the fact that Hanae had talked to Iwaizumi enough to be calling him kun, but your voice is still heavy despite the sentiment. “You're so weird. But that's why I love you.”

“Of course you do~”

On another innocent hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you’re met with abrupt news.

“Aika and I broke up.” Iwaizumi mutters softly.

“Eeeeh?!” You’re shell-shocked again, but you'd be lying if you said you were crushed like last time. “But-- but you guys were doing so well! You were the cutest couple!”

“She broke up with him over text,” Oikawa chimes in and you gape as Iwaizumi punches him again. “Two days ago.”

“She what-”

“She said she wasn't ready for a relationship,” is all Iwaizumi says.

You feel heartbreak and burning pity boil inside of you. “I-I’m so sorry, Haji… you didn't deserve that. You'll find someone better.”

Me. It's me, I promise I won't break your heart the way she did, because you're all I ever wanted.

He nods and for the first time in a while, he hugs you tight. “Yeah..”

It breaks you because it feels so good, his embrace warming you.

But it breaks you more to hear him whisper, “I can’t get over her though.”

(You just wanted him to be happy but he can’t. You can’t fix it.)

“You will,” you breathe out, trying not to let the tears slip. “You’re gonna be okay.”

(You know you’re not.)

But you don’t say that when you feel Iwaizumi’s shaky breath and him muttering, “Thanks.”

“Oh my god, [Name], did you hear about Hajime-kun?” Hanae’s alarmed voice three days later makes you concerned.

First of all, Hajime-kun-- “W-What? What happened now??” Nonetheless, panic still seeps into you.

“Aika broke up with him!!” Hanae seems so worked up over this and you wonder, how close is she to him? “Can you believe it?? She really threw away one of the best people in school!”

Shouldn’t I be saying that…? “Yeah, I know…” you try not to sound too bitter. “But like, it’s not really her fault she wasn’t ready for a relationship..”

Hanae huffs and crosses her arms, leaning onto you. “Well, I mean you’re right, but she shouldn’t have signed herself up for it if this was gonna happen. I feel so bad for him.” You’re about to layer on your argument, but Hanae straightens up and smirks. “See, your man’s single. Shoot your shot!”

“Right after a break-up?? Hanae, you’re batshit crazy-”

“Uh, well, make him like you, then shoot your shot!”

Your head and heart kind of hurts from all this talk about Iwaizumi, no matter how smitten you are for him, so you just blindly nod and agree.

It works for the rest of the day until you get home and cry into your pillow, wondering what to do.

Hope is re-kindled into you.

Over the past two-ish months, post-breakup, you find that comforting Iwaizumi makes you feel much better than wallowing in your self-pity. It’s a win-win: you’re putting even more of his trust into you, you two are getting even closer, and this could quite possibly end up in a great situation.

You melt at the sight of Iwaizumi, and every day you can see happiness soak back into him. Every time he laughs at one of your stupid jokes or grins at you while you rant and complain, you feel like your heart stops out of complete adoration of how stunning he is in every way you can think of.

He isn't perfect, but you think he's the perfect match for you.

And one day, at a study “date” (you try very hard not to take that term to heart!!) at a café, Iwaizumi peers up from laptop and gives you his signature, gruff yet content smile and says, “You know, I don't think I need Aika anymore.”

(You want to kiss him.)

It’s honestly been a shitty time for you and your friends, you realize.

Hanae broke up with her boyfriend, as you would have figured over the past few weeks she’s been ranting to you about how annoying and clingy and overprotective he is, but you found that she broke up with him over text. Oikawa went through three girlfriends in a month, to which he pouted and whined about but you knew he was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to carry more burden. And there’s the whole heartache Iwaizumi thing, even though things have been getting relatively better.

(You also realize amongst all your friends, you’re the only one who’s stayed very, very very single. You hope that’ll change soon.)

Things are going absolutely amazing with Iwaizumi. Even Oikawa’s been smirking at you and teasing you about your “true love” (to which you frustratedly deny but you honestly know that it’s just the truth when you consider your feelings for him). The two of you have felt confident enough to spend time with each other at your respective homes without feeling awkward or the need to have Oikawa there to provide a third wheel. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

So now you’re at a family-friend’s party, lounging on the couch away from the scene, on your phone. It’s so loud, but you’re content and refreshed on all the snacks you’ve practically been inhaling. Your phone pings in your hand and you glance up at the notification you’ve just received.

Oh, a text~

It’s from Hanae.

poopy hanae >:)): [name] are you busyyy

YOU: no not really

YOU: just at a party

poopy hanae >:)): OH okay so um can i tell you something but

poopy hanae >:)): i dont want you to get mad or sad ...so please let me just finish my texts

YOU: ?? yea go ahead , ill wait for you to finish :)

You feel kind of nervous once she puts it like that, but you let her continue.

poopy hanae >:)): remember how after my break up i promised i wouldn’t fall for anyone else, not for a while yk? i promised that to me and him: i wouldn’t let my heart get broken or whatever. but i found out that i don’t think i’ve ever really fallen for my ex. i think i just dated him because i felt bad and felt like i had to date him because i didn’t wanna reject him… but it happened still. but i think i’m in love now. honestly.

poopy hanae >:)): i’ve never felt this way around any guy before, not my ex, not anyone. everytime i see him my heart goes crazy, and i want to talk to him all the time. he’s just so perfect in every way. he’s so smart, he’s handsome as hell, he’s strong and caring… and i promised both of you i wouldn’t fall for anyone else but i broke that promise to him, you, and me. and i think you’ve figured out who he is now.

poopy hanae >:((: i’m sorry i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you because that would make our friendship weird but i hope now we’re at the stage where we will still be best friends regardless of him. i’m truly in love with iwaizumi hajime and i’m gonna confess to him on monday (tmr). i love him so much but i want you to know i love you more so he won’t ever get in the way of us. ily <3

The more you read the message, the more it makes you want to cry. Your hand starts trembling around your milk tea and you feel your face warm up, your eyes glassing over and your vision blurring. Stumbling your way into the bathroom, you lock yourself inside, staring at yourself in the mirror. You watch your delicate, shaking features in the mirror as the first bitter tear rolls down your cheek. More tears follow.

Sobs wrack your body and hot tears glide down your face, constantly, like a river. Whimpers escape you, and your lips are cracked and dry, and you keep thinking, Why would she do this to me?

YOU: ahaha it’s okay!!!

YOU: a boy shouldn’t get between us, ly :) make him happy

YOU: you desrvee him mroe than anbyody else

You cover your mouth with your shaking fingers in hopes that the others can’t hear you outside over the music.

You pretend it’s fine the next day at school.

Hanae doesn’t even mention it, but she hugs you a lot more and keeps whispering, “I love you”. The bitterness has sunken in a little bit and you resist the urge to tell her, It doesn’t change the fact that you broke me, but you figure that it’ll be okay.

You’ll just lose your feelings for Iwaizumi so she doesn’t have “competition”.

(It turns out to be harder than you think.)

When you see Iwaizumi at lunch, his smile never fails to make you flush a little bit and make you feel so warm and comfy. When he sits down next to you (!! ahhh!) since Hanae was in line for lunch, he makes a sigh-grunt noise as he nestles his chin into the crook of his palm. Oikawa, bless his dumb ass, sidles down next to you, making a dramatic sigh.

“Did you know Hanae-chan confessed to Iwa-chan today?”

You try so, so SO hard not to tense. “Yeah. She told me a few days ago that she- she was in love with him.”

(The way your voice cracks at “in love” is pathetic, you think.)

You don’t miss the way Oikawa’s face briefly flashes a frown at you before morphing back into his signature pretty-boy smile. Iwaizumi looks a little embarrassed to be talking about this but he nods. “Yeah, she pulled me aside right before lunch and… yeah. It was so embarrassing…” You’re in fucking awe of how cute he is even when he’s distressed, but you remind yourself (with a pang of bitterness) that you aren’t supposed to think that anymore.

“And I turned her down,” Iwaizumi continues, and your ears almost fucking pop at the noise. He- how, what? Why? “‘Cause I don’t know, I never really felt that way about her. I guess that’s why she’s been talking to me more and more lately. She said she understood if I wasn’t ready to move on ‘cause of Aika and stuff, but.. she said something like she’ll change my mind.” He snorts and murmurs, “I don’t think that’ll happen, honestly.”

Oikawa laughs, a peppery laugh accompanied with a side-eyed glance towards you. “Iwa-chan, you’re such a brute~ You sure that’s the only reason you turned her down?”

Iwaizumi lets out a snort again. “Yeah.. I’m over Aika now, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Plus, there isn’t anyone that I like like now. Hanae doesn’t stand out.”

The statement makes you crumble on the inside.

You idiot of a best friend. What good are you if you don’t stand up for Hanae?

But it doesn’t matter! He said he has no interest in anyone, including you. Or her. It’s pointless, futile. He never even considered you.

You’re so stupid, so worthless sometimes. You’re the worst. It doesn’t matter if you would go to the end of the world for Hajime. You have to give this up for her. Fight for her because he would never settle for someone like you.

You fight back the sob crawling in your throat, as your self-loathe and intrusive thoughts rain in. You try so hard not to let it get to you, but still-

It’s what Hanae deserves for putting up with you.

“You should give her a chance,” you force a small smile. “I mean, she’s pretty and smart, you know?”

Oikawa gives you a pitying gaze before Iwaizumi shakes his head, his cheek now pressing against his palm. “Nah. I don’t like anyone in that way now, and it’s gonna stay like that for a while, I’d think.”

He doesn’t like anyone in that way.

You shrug and nod, “Fair enough,” but your voice is so much smaller. You love Iwaizumi Hajime so much, and he’s always been your everything. From his habits to his comforting demeanor and his entire profile, he’s always infatuated you and you know that no matter how hard you deny it for anyone, you will never let go of the feelings that shackle you to him like chains.

You love him so much.

But I guess I’ll never win.

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sorry this sucks #this is a mess

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

Adventure Made Blondes...

Summary: Jackson catches Drake up on everything he told Riley and tells them about the ill-fated diplomatic ball.

Word Count: 2381

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Constantine x Eleanor, Jackson x Bianca

Warnings: N/A

Part 11 of WP. To catch up read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bobasheebaby @bascmve01 @burnsoslow @the-everlasting-dream @ao719 @sirbeepsalot @janezillow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire @hopefulmoonobject @iaminlovewithtrr

**I don’t own the characters, just borrowing them**

FC for Eleanor Rys and her dress and FC for Bianca Walker and her dress.

He waits until her car is out of sight before heading back into the house. He sits back down in his chair before looking at a picture of him and Eleanor on the table next to him.

“I really wish you here to help, El.” A single tear falls down his cheek before he wipes it away.

* * “Maybe you should just go by yourself. He probably only said I could come so you wouldn’t think he was an awful person.” Drake rubs the back of his neck, regretting his decision.

“Or he wants a chance to make amends with his son. I really think you should hear what he has to say.” Riley gives her husband a smile; she knows this won’t be easy, but she does think it’s important for them to talk.

“I just don’t know, RI. I mean when I confronted him weeks ago, he told me to leave and then confided in a complete stranger.” He flops down on the couch.

“You grew up with your dad being your hero, Drake. Seeing you made him realize that that façade was shattered.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind as she rests her chin on his shoulder, “How would you feel if our baby learned you weren’t the hero they always saw you as?”

Drake knows his wife is making valid points, but it’s not as easy for him as it is for her to accept Jackson’s word. He taught Drake that a man stood behind what he said and how he acted, yet Jackson seemed to have gone back on everything he taught Drake.

“Guess it couldn’t hurt to hear what he has to say.”

“If it gets too much, we can leave. And I’ll be beside you the whole time!” She peppers his cheek and neck with kisses before letting him go, “Let’s go!”

Drake stands up and watches his wife buzz around the room, gathering her purse and sweater before bolting out the door. He didn’t understand why she was so excited about going. He grabs his keys off the holder by the door before locking up and walking to his truck where she’s waiting to get in.

It’s a few moments into the drive before Riley squeals, causing Drake to panic. He looks at her and she giggles.

“According to this baby app, our baby is the size of an apple.”

Drake takes a deep breath, “Maybe save the squeals for when I’m at a red light or parked next time?”

She turns red, “I’m sorry.”

He grabs her hand, squeezes it before laughing, “An apple, eh? Like a Cordonian Ruby?”

“I’ll never understand y’alls love for apples.”

“Speaking of Cordonia, Liam is planning a trip down here.”

“What!” She squeals again, “Liam’s coming!”

Even though Riley initially flew to Cordonia for Liam’s social season, it was clear from the beginning that Drake and Riley were destined to be together. Liam wasn’t blind to how her and Drake looked at each other, so he didn’t make it awkward or continue to try to pursue her. He had given them his blessing, not that they needed it, but Riley wanted it. She refused to tear Drake and Liam apart, refused to be the woman who destroyed a childhood long friendship.

However, that didn’t stop her from befriending Liam and making him her best friend just as Maxwell had made her him. She stuck by his side through the whole social season and helped him gain the courage to stand up to tradition by not settling for a loveless marriage.

* *

Drake sees Jackson sitting on the porch, waiting for them as they pull up into the driveway.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise.” Riley grabs Drake’s hand. She gives him her best smile, the one he fell in love with all those years ago.

He takes a deep breath, “Okay, let’s go.”

They slowly make their way up the walkway as Jackson comes down and greets them midway.

“Good morning. I have a pot of coffee ready, if you’d like some.” Jackson says, kicking some dirt on the ground.

“Drake loves coffee, I’m sure he’d like one, right Drake?” Riley gently nudges his arm.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure.”

The three of them all walk inside the house; Drake and Riley take a seat at the kitchen table as Jackson pours him and Drake a cup.

“There’s sugar on the table and I have creamer in the fridge.”

“I drink it black.” Riley cuts her eyes at him and he adds, “But thank you.”

“Of course. I prefer a bit of creamer, myself.” Jackson sits down across from Drake and Riley. They all sat in a semi-awkward silence, not sure exactly how to start things. It’s not until Riley’s sudden dash out of the kitchen that either say anything.

“Is everything okay?” He looks at Drake with confusion.

“Is that Hazelnut creamer?”

“How’d you know?”

Drake chuckles, “It’s one of Ri’s food aversions.”

“Aver…That means she’s…” Jackson pauses, waiting for his son to speak up.

“Pregnant, yes. Just a little bit into her second trimester.” Drake smiles.

“You’re gonna be a grandpa!” Riley exclaims, walking back into the kitchen, having heard the end of their conversation.

“Wow. Congratulations.” Jackson says, smiling at the couple in front of him.

Drake wants to be happy to share this moment with Jackson, for his child to have a grandfather. “Before we start handing out grandparent titles, I think we need to talk first.”

“Drake!” Riley opposes, cutting him a look; telling him to play nice.

“No no, I understand where he’s coming from.” Jackson says.

For the next hour, Jackson catches Drake up on everything he had told Riley not too long ago. When he told Riley it was effortless almost, he knew regardless of what she ended up thinking, it wouldn’t really affect him. He had no risk in that exchange but he felt a lump in his throat each time he swallowed while repeated it all to his son.

Drake takes in everything his father tells him. How the picture of love at first sight, a happy marriage between his parents, the type of love he strived for; was all a bunch of lies. He listened to how his father started an innocent friendship that ended up in two broken families, to how his once hero became nothing but a stranger in front of him.

“And know you know everything I’ve told Riley.”

Drake just stares at Jackson, he’s not sure what more he could be told. What Jackson could tell him to make him understand why they did what they did, why they left him, Liam and Savannah. Drake hadn’t even called Savannah to tell her yet; he knew he had to, but he just didn’t know how to.

“Are you okay, hun?” Riley squeeze Drake’s hand.

“Yeah. So, what happened at this ball?” Drake looks at Jackson; part of him not caring, the other part of him just wanting to learn the truth.

* *

The next day at the palace, everything is a whirlwind. Floral arrangements, name cards and fairy lights are being carried through the palace halls. Jackson and Timothy are watching as mayhem fills the palace.

“Your wife excited about tonight?” Timothy asks, nudging Jackson.

He knew he was talking about the fact the couple had been invited to the ball by Queen Eleanor herself and that they had been given a reserved suite. Bianca has been talking about the ordeal for days. Even calling her sister and comparing it to Disney World.

“It’s all she can talk about.”

“What about you?”

“It might be weird not being off to the side and being on high alert.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He glances around before lowering his voice, “About having both Eleanor and Bianca together. Since you have feelings for…”

Jackson interrupts him, “Don’t even finish that false statement.”

As he strides through the halls, he gets lost in thought: I can’t believe he thinks something so absurd. Only a fool would fall for a Queen, especially someone so much lower in station. What could someone like me even give a woman like her.

The rest of the day is uneventful, especially with Timothy keeping his distance. It’s not until he’s about to leave that he runs into Queen Eleanor.

“Jackson!” She practically squeals before realizing people could hear, “Office Walker.”

“Your Majesty,” he bows.

“Are you looking forward to the festivities?”

“Bianca hasn’t stopped talking about it since the invitation arrived.”

“I’m glad, but I asked if you were.”

“Oh! It will be different for sure, but it will be interesting to see how the other side lives.”

She playfully bumps his shoulder before smiling, “Does Bianca have a dress? I could have some brought to your suite.”

“That’s not needed. I’m sure she will have something.”

“Well, do let me know. I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider.” She gives him a faint smile.

“Ellie, there you are.” The masculine voice fills the air around them.

“Your Majesty.” Jackson goes to bow.

“No need for that Jackson. This meeting is rather casual.”

“Constantine,” Eleanor nods.

“One of the decorators is looking for you, dear.” He tells his wife.

“Constantine. Jackson. If you’ll excuse me.” Eleanor smiles before taking her leave.

“I take it all the security needs are handled since you’ll be off duty.”

“Yes, sir, but I’ll duck out if needed.”

“I expect no less, but I do hope you try to enjoy yourself. I believe all the children will be staying over. Drake and Savannah are welcome to join.”

“I appreciate that, sir.” Jackson says.

* *

By the time the ball begins, the palace has been completely transformed. Lights, flowers, decorations have truly changed the once cold and stoic palace into a lively and comfortable setting.

Bianca’s eyes were as large as a kid’s on Christmas; trying to take in as much as she could. She’d been in parts of the palace before but never seen it like this.

“Mrs. Walker?”

She turns around to see a maid smile at her.

“Yes?”

“Please follow me ma’am.”

Bianca looks at Jackson who smiles, “Go on, no one here bites.”

She’s then escorted to one of the spare rooms typically reserved for nobles staying from abroad. Her eyes light up once again when she sees several beautiful ballgowns and accessories throughout the room.

“Jackson said you’d have a gown, but I still thought I’d offer.”

Bianca turns around and immediately drops into a curtesy, “Queen Eleanor!”

Eleanor bites back a smile, “No need for all that. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Walker.”

“Bianca is fine, ma’am.”

“Bianca it is then.” She walks closer to Bianca, “I had some gowns and such brought in here for you to look at. I won’t be offended if you don’t choose any, so please don’t fret.”

“Why’d you do all of this for me?” Bianca looks at the gowns, she’s never seen such dresses before and refuses to even think of what they must’ve cost.

“Let’s just say that I know firsthand what it’s like to attend the ball in a gown people didn’t find good enough.” Bianca sees the sad smile on Eleanor’s face before looking at her own gown.

Up until this moment, Bianca hadn’t realized that she never saw Queen Eleanor as a person. She was always this high-powered entity to her, but now she saw that she wasn’t that much different than her. She couldn’t even imagine how lonely Eleanor must feel being her and not really having friends. Friendships within nobility were rare, Jackson had told her before, they lasted long enough for each party to get something they wanted from the other.

“Which would you pick out for me, Queen Eleanor?”

Eleanor smiles, “I think you’d look lovely in this one.”

* *

Bianca walks down the hall, trying to remember which way she came from. Timothy quickly sees her and walks towards her.

“Need any assistance?”

“Timothy, oh thank heavens. I’m trying to find Jackson.”

“The ballroom is this way, I’ll escort you.” Timothy motions for her to continue walking, “That’s a lovely gown.”

“Thank you. Queen Eleanor lent it to me for the night. She’s very sweet.”

Timothy’s eyes widen, “Yes, she is.”

They didn’t say much of anything else as they walked through the empty halls towards the ballroom. Bianca immediately saw Jackson and parted ways with Timothy.

“Jack!” She called out as he appeared to be looking for her.

“Bianca. Wow.” Jackson’s jaw dropped. His wife stood in front of him wearing a completely different gown than she had arrived in. She had originally chosen to wear an ill-fitting dress that she had for years that she’d worn to Tonya and Cash’s wedding a few years ago. Yet here she was in a pale-yellow strapless dress that had white appliqué flowers covering the bodice and flowing down onto part of the skirt. It hugged her sides which showed off her figure more than most clothes she wore and the rhinestone studded belt insinuated her waist.

Bianca’s face turns red as her husband stares at her.

“Where did you get that gown?” He pulls her to his side and kisses her temple.

“Queen Eleanor lent it to me. Actually, she picked it out as well.”

“The Queen does have excellent taste.”

The couple walk into the ballroom just before the King and Queen are announced. Bianca feels herself attempting to cover her shoulders; feeling slightly exposed as they made their way through the room.

“Cold?” Jackson asks.

“Just feeling a bit uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be. You look beautiful.”

As they reached their table, they stood as Constantine and Eleanor were announced and entered the room. Constantine wore his typical regale attire while his wife wore the lavender colored gown Jackson had seen just a week prior. Her hair was down and curled which was usual because typically noble women wore their hair up to events that lasted long hours.

Bianca looks up to whisper something to her husband but stops when she sees him practically drooling. Immediately the confidence his earlier words had given her, crumbled; feeling herself pale in comparison to the Queen.

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trufflerabbit13 · 4 years ago

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A Dove’s Ripped Wings: Chapter 5 | I Hate Volleyball

prologue / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 5

Word Count: 5.4 k

🏐 🏐 THIRD PERSON P.O.V.🏐 🏐

Sawamura Daichi had always been pretty sure about himself. He knew his likes and dislikes, understood what he strived for, what he had to do to succeed. He liked to think he was a reasonably nice guy, with a small group of people he could call his close friends. He liked keeping an eye out for these friends, making sure they were okay.

Recently, there was an addition to a group of people he called his friends. While Daichi usually tended to stay with people near his age, he hadn't had an issue befriending this younger girl. While their meeting was somewhat dangerous, seeing as he did stop her from tumbling down the stairs, it was probably what solidified their relationship. It was a day Daichi was glad he decided to leave his house early, no matter how tired he had felt.

Ibato Chiaki was someone that he wanted to keep around him because he was concerned for her. Some may ask if he pitied her. But that wasn't the case. Instead, he admired the tall, silver-haired female. She was a strong young woman with a heart of gold. She loved from the bottom of her heart, loyal to those she cares, warm and accepting.

However, Daichi also knew that behind those characteristics, she hid something deeper within her, unwilling to share it with him or Sugawara. Not yet, at least. Something Daichi was hoping would change as they grew closer. The Karasuno VBC captain was pretty sure that it was the same for Sugawara, his closest friend.

On multiple occasions, Daichi had seen Chiaki shrink back, a distinct look flashing in her eyes. While she stayed strong, there were times when she could become so fragile that he couldn't help but want to stretch his hand out to her. And, as much as his heart hurt, he knew the younger girl wouldn't take it.

In moments like those, Daichi never pushed her, allowing Chiaki to have her space. Or if he can, swerve her away from whatever that made her like that. He's been successful in doing precisely that with the help of Sugawara in the past.

But right now, he wasn't too sure if he'll be successful in doing that. Especially when a certain orange-haired first-year had no knowledge of the healing scars Chiaki had.

"Ace?! Wow! Wow! Wow! That has such a cool ring to it!" Hinata gasped, his brown eyes wide and shining as he jumped around in excitement. "And number one wing spiker, woah?!"

In his excitement, the ginger didn't notice the VBC members waving their arms frantically behind Chiaki, trying to stop him from continuing the conversation. Even Kageyama looked a bit panicked, the dark-haired boy's eyes widened as he opened and closed his mouth.

Daichi and Sugawara shared eye contact, the two third-years already getting a bad feeling as the conversation escalated without anyone being able to stop the excited boy who stared at Chiaki with starry eyes. The captain sent a glare to Tsukishima, who was the instigator of this conversation, the blond seeming to be pleased being the shit-starter.

"Aki-senpai is Japan's number one female spiker?! I want to see it! I want to see it! C-Can I have the honor of seeing your spike and serve?!" Hinata spoke fast, his whole body shaking out of excitement. If he was a dog, his tail would be wiggling so fast, his head would also have been vibrating.

Kageyama seemed to snap out of his stupor, angrily stomping his way to Hinata and yanking the back of his shirt, making the orange-haired boy stumble in surprise.

"Huh?! Wha-What are you doing, Kageyama?! Gyaaa! You're stretching my shirt!"

"Bōke! Shut up! You're loud, and you're troubling Aki-senpai!" The setter barked, his eyes darting between the smaller boy and the female, a hint of panic in them as he realized how silent Chiaki was.

Hinata being the clueless little bean he was, only pouted, turning to Kageyama with a scowl, "stop being so stingy, Kageyama! Are you jealous that I'm talking to Aki-senpai? I know she was your senpai in middle school, but now she's also my senpai! I should be allowed to see her amazing serves and spike as well! Booo!"

A irk mark popped on Kageyama's forehead as he moved to hit the shorter boy, "t-that's not what I'm trying to say, bōke! Ugh! Why are you such an idiot?!"

The two boys jabbed and dodged each other, starting to scuffle much to everyone's disbelief. Eventually, they moved away, breathing heavily. But it seemed like Hinata hadn't given up, turning his head to Chiaki. Kageyama also noticed this, his eyes narrowing sharply as he moved to stop Hinata again. However, the tall setter froze, his eyes widening.

"Aki-senpai! Please, I'm beg-...." Hinata's words trailed off as he too took in Chiaki, who stood in front of them.

Kageyama swallowed thickly, realizing Chiaki was mad. Knowing her since he first entered middle school, the setter knew the older girl didn't get angry easily. And on the rare occasion she did, Chiaki wouldn't show it, hiding it with a chilling smile that could freeze anybody. He had seen that a couple of times and each time made him think he didn't want to be at the receiving end of her anger.

But Kageyama could tell that the anger Chiaki held today was different from the times he saw in the past. Today, anyone who sees her right now would be able to tell Chiaki was angry. The others who had stood behind Chiaki weren't able to notice, but the female had turned slightly red, her eyebrows furrowed. Her hands were curled in a fist beside her thighs. And her eyes were burning with a fury that made both Hinata and Kageyama suck in a breath.

However, Kageyama was pretty sure that her anger wasn't aimed at either of them. But that didn't mean he wasn't terrified to see the usually level-headed senpai of his look like that.

Chiaki slowly breathed in before letting the air out, her shoulders dropping as well.

"Uh- I-" Hinata stuttered, seeming to not know what to say. He nervously looked at his other senpais who stood behind Chiaki, but they too looked like they didn't know what to do, keeping their lips sealed tight at the tense atmosphere.

Chiaki curled and uncurled her fingers, realizing they felt numb. Eventually, she moved her focus on the shorter boy in front of her. "Hinata-kun."

Hearing his name, Hinata flinched, cowering as he realized how cold Chiaki sounded. The said female notices this, but she didn't care enough to change her tone.

"Sorry, but I can't do either of what you ask me. I don't play volleyball anymore. And I'm not the volleyball club's manager, so you won't be seeing me around here anymore," Chiaki explained, calming down enough to be able to smile at the boy.

Seeing this, Hinata seemed to relax a bit, seemingly relieved to see the female smile at him. On the other hand, Kageyama doesn't look to be convinced by her expression, sending her a doubting look and refusing to come closer to her.

"Huh? Really? Then, why are you here today on a Saturday morning, Aki-senpai?" The ginger questioned as he tilted his head to the side, looking a bit confused. Chiaki would have found the action cute if her mind wasn't where it was at the moment.

Seeing the chance, Sugawara quickly stepped in, smiling brightly, although it twitched a bit because of how he was forcing himself. "Daichi and I invited Aki-chan to come to this match, hoping it'll be convincing enough to make her our new manager!"

"Eh? Really?" Tanaka and Hinata chorused, their eyes shining at the new information revealed to them.

At that moment, Sugawara mentally realized he may have made a mistake, screaming in his head. Koushi, you're an idiot! A big, big idiot, who probably made this whole thing even worse! And to confirm, when the silver-haired male looked at Daichi, his friend had a faraway look in his eyes, seeming to want to facepalm himself. Just as Sugawara had those thoughts, Daichi smacked his head to forehead, shaking his head. Oh- we're fucked...

"No," a chilling voice made Sugawara freeze, slowly turning his head to Chiaki, his movement looking like the tin man from the Wizard of Oz before he was oiled.

Hinata was either clueless, or he ignored the tension, looking at Chiaki with an innocent question. "Eh? Why not? You may not play volleyball anymore, but you have the knowledge, right? And you're friends with Kageyama, Captain, and Suga-senpai. Being a manager would be fun with us!"

"I hate volleyball."

Hinata and everyone in the gym froze, none of them expecting an answer like that to come from her.

"Eh? Why?"

Hinata, you idiooooooot!!! Everyone thinks, wanting to grab the short first-year and strangle him with the insensitive and immediate question to Chiaki's statement. Sugawara felt faint, and Tanaka was flustered, his hand getting waved around, not knowing how to stop the younger boy from causing more damage. Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an intense headache looming over his head. The instigator of this whole thing stayed silent with Yamaguchi, slowly realizing he might have stirred more trouble then what he initially wanted. Yamaguchi was pale beside him, keeping his mouth zipped tight as he watched what was bubbling with anxiety.

Chiaki couldn't move her gaze from Hinata, her heart twinging at the earnest look he sent her. Seeing that, the anger she was trying to put a lid onto seemed to overfill, the bitterness she felt leaking into her tone. It was like a dam that held her emotions together broke, all the words, all the frustration she held flooded out in a huge black wave.

"I hate it because I can't play anymore. I hate that I got this damn injury and how much it took away from me. I hate how all my future plans were about volleyball, and now I have nothing. I hate having to watch you all play it with that bright smile on your face, having so much fun. I hate how my wish to go to my dream school and go to nationals and see the top in high school isn't possible for me anymore. I hate how as much as I want to stay away, volleyball is around me! I hate everything about volleyball!" Chiaki didn't realize she was shouting by the end, her voice raising the loudest it has ever had in her life.

The boys and Shimizu stared at her in shock at her outburst, Sugawara and Daichi looking away as they saw the pain in their friend's eyes.

Chiaki was heaving, her shoulders rising and falling as she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment and anger, the back of her eyes stinging as her emotions went haywire for the first time. It was the very first time she had let her anger out about her injuries. And in front of people that could almost be considered strangers, excluding a few of them.

It takes another second for Chiaki to realize what she had just done. Her hands shakes, horrified at her own outburst and feeling humiliated at the same time. It's a miracle that she hadn't run out of the gym. Which she would have done if her damn legs would move.

"It doesn't look like you hate it, senpai," Chiaki froze at the clear voice, slowly turning her head to look at who spoke. The boy with orange hair stared at her with his brown eyes.

Everyone else stared at Hinata in bewilderment, "Wha-"

"I don't think you hate volleyball, Aki-senpai. Because when you said you hate it, you looked like you wanted to cry. I think you love it so much, it makes you really sad knowing you can't play it."

Chiaki is at a loss for words, her eyes wide as Hinata faced her, his brown eyes seeming to stare straight into her. The said boy crossed his arms as he closed his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he thought deeply.

"I'm an idiot a lot of times, so I don't understand a lot of things. But I don't think someone who once loved volleyball could end up really hating it. At least, I don't think I can," Hinata spoke as he scratched the back of his head, smilingly sheepishly. He, however, grew a bit serious as he looked at the frozen female in front of him. "I don't know what happened to you, Aki-senpai. But from what you said, I think you got an injury that prevents you from playing volleyball. That must really suck. Actually, it's uh, more than sucky, I guess. I'm pretty bad at volleyball, but I can't imagine not being able to play again because of an injury."

The others in the gym also seemed to not know what to say as Hinata spoke, a mixture of astonishment and confusion as they tried to understand what he's trying to say.

"I'm sorry that you have to give a lot of your dreams up. B-But, you don't have to give up the one where you go to nationals! Uh, what I'm trying to say is that, if you're a manager, that means you're part of our team, right? You may not physically be able to stand on the courts and play with us, but you can still go!" Hinata seemed to grow confused at his own words, his eyes spinning as he tried to sort his thoughts.

Kageyama seemed to be growing annoyed as he smacked the boy's back. "What are you saying, Hinata Bōke?! You're not making any sense!"

"Gah!" Hinata ran his hands through his hair, pulling on his roots in frustration before a look of determination entered his eyes as he turned to Chiaki. "What I'm trying to say is! Senpai! We'll take you to nationals, just as you dreamed. Maybe its not exactly how you imagined yourself, but still, if we can win, we'll go to nationals! You'll be able to see the very top with us! So be our manager!"

A silence fell over all of them, Chiaki staring at Hinata in awe, her grey eyes as wide as saucers.

When no one said anything, the confidence that Hinata was emitting slowly began to dwindle, the boy curling into himself in embarrassment. With flushed cheeks, he spoke, flustered out of his mind. "I-I mean! I m-mean it's not something I can do alone but.... What I'm trying to say is- uh-"

A hand slammed into the orange-haired male's back, making him gasp in pain, stumbling forward in surprise. When he looked up, Tanaka, who was responsible for the hit, grinned widely, wrapping an arm around the shorter boy's neck.

"Hell yah, Hinata! I like your spirit and the way you think! Of course, we'll go to nationals, as your senpai, I'll lend you my help! Right Suga-san? Daichi-san? You'll help too, right?!" The second-year with shaved head looked back, turning his gaze to his two senpais who watched everything in a stupor, taken aback at what Hinata said.

Daichi and Sugawara share brief eye contact before nodding with a smile. This makes Hinata smile brightly, seeming to be delighted.

His eyes turned back to Chiaki, who was still frozen in place, trying to process what was happening. She's amazed by the way Hinata thought. His simplicity was something Chiaki would never be able to do herself, and it took a bit to completely understand what he was saying.

Hinata, however, obviously doesn't seem to notice, opening his mouth. "For me, because I love volleyball so much, as much as it would hurt to not be able to play anymore, I feel that it would hurt even more staying away from it. Just watching it makes me feel excited! Isn't that the same for you, Aki-senpai? You looked super stoked watching Kageyama set earlier!"

Hearing this, Kageyama looked at the female in surprise, his mouth parting a bit. But he can't see her whole face, her eyes getting covered and shadowed by her silver bangs.

"Really....? Are you serious about nationals too...?" A meek voice finally comes from Chiaki, the female is barely loud enough to be heard from everyone in the gym. But, her voice and question were heard by Hinata, the said boy grinning widely as he gave the girl a thumbs up.

"Really! I promise we'll work really hard!"

Chiaki can't help it, a light laugh leaving her lips. Suddenly, everything seemed stupid. She felt ridiculous and silly over the bitterness she had been feeling. She indeed felt jealousy and resentment when she watched the game earlier. She had wished it was her that was leaping into the air, her hands that hit the ball and spiked it down to the ground. But with the bitterness, like Hinata said, she felt the excitement watching them play. An enthusiasm that had been missing in her life since the accident over a year ago. And there's no denying how much she had liked that feeling, the way the adrenaline pumped in her veins, and the way her pupils dilated wide.

Hinata's words were right. The past year had been hell staying away from volleyball. It hurt that she couldn't play it anymore. But hearing Hinata's words, she realized staying away from it hurt even more just like he said. Her love for volleyball was just too strong. And during the last year, she only truly did felt happy when she was watching a game.

Her gaze shifts to Kageyama as the boy takes a step closer to her, a look of determination is his dark eyes. A conflicted look was on his face, his lips pointed in a small pout, however he finally looks at the female with unwavering eyes. "Hinata may be an idiot, and he may suck at volleyball, but he's right, Aki-senpai."

Hinata, who heard this looked at Tanaka with a pout, "is he praising me or dissing me?!"

Kageyama pays no mind to Hinata's complaint as he continues to speak. "You may not be able to play volleyball like in middle school, and you may not be able to go to nationals with just your own strength. But, if you become our manager, you become one of us. You taught me many things about volleyball, you were the one senpai I looked up to the most when it came to the sport. I learned so much with your input and advices. And I hope you can continue to give me advice like in middle school to help me improve. I promise you, I'll do my absolute best to show you the tallest stage of nationals! So please be our manager!"

Chiaki doesn't expect the setter to give her a deep bow, his back bending at a ninety-degree angle. The other members, excluding Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, who were watching, shared an eye contact before joining in a line, bowing deeply in front of Chiaki.

The said female watched them in awe. The boys continued to bow, and Chiaki released an audible sigh that made them all peek at her. She had made her decision.

"No, I won't be your manager."

Everyone looks at the silver-haired female in shock, seeming to not think she'll reject them so quickly. Especially Kageyama, the dark-haired setter looking visibly dejected. He looks down with his shoulder slumped, biting his bottom lip with his teeth.

"I won't be your manager because I'm selfish and while I know only one manager is allowed to be on the court for each team, I still want to be able to stand there. But I'm not taking that privilege away from Shimizu-San," Chiaki explained, eyeing the said female who stood couple feet's away. "And there are multiple things that a manager is supposed to do that I can't do. Many of my movements are still limited because of my injury, I can't carry heavy stuff like water bottles, and I can't exactly run around. But I can also do a lot of things a normal manager can't. I can be your medic and help with what I can with the knowledge I have with sports medicine."

At Chiaki's unexpected words, everyone looked at her in surprise. In response, Chiaki smiled gently, her gaze shifting over them all.

"R-Really?" Sugawara questioned, seeming to be touched at what Chiaki said.

The female nodded at her fellow silver head, "yeah, but I warn you. I'm still planning on graduating after this year. While I'll help with whatever Shimizu-san needs, you'll still have to look for a manager for next year," Chiaki warns, which the other eagerly nods at, "and-"

Everyone intently listened, ready to hear her conditions. A mischievous look appears in her grey orbs, "there'll be a painful punishment if you guys can't keep your promise about nationals."

Suddenly, all of them felt like a shiver ran down their back, paling a bit as the female sent them a rare wicked grin that made her usual sweetness melt away. Shimizu covered her mouth with her jacket's sleeve, hiding the snicker that threatened to slip. Chiaki laughed wholeheartedly, sounding like light bells making them all look at her in awe. Daichi's lips were parted, his eyes wide, realizing that was a genuine laugh, something he has never heard come from his friend in the past.

Chiaki released a giggle before turning to Daichi, the male straightening his back under her gaze, snapping out of his stupor. "Is it okay if I turned the registration form tomorrow? I don't have one on me," she questioned, her droopy grey eyes seeming to shine brightly.

Before Daichi could answer, Shimizu stepped forward, the glassed female smiling as she pulled a portfolio out, slipping a crisp paper out and handing it to her. Chiaki blinked at the registration paper in her hand in surprise, and Shimizu's response made her chuckle.

"We should seal it before you change your mind."

With amusement and neat handwriting, Chiaki signs the paper, eyeing her signature with her heart feeling content. Just as she's about to give it to Daichi, Kageyama and Hinata come to either side of her. She blinks, eyeing their wrinkly registration form and their messy handwriting with mirth.

Daichi doesn't seem to mind, staring at the three pieces of paper in his hand quietly before turning to his manager. "Shimizu, those have already come in, right?"

In response, the glassed beauty nods, going to grab a cardboard box.

Chiaki feels somewhat touched, the back of her eyes stinging for a brief moment as the female hands her a black jacket. The silver-haired female can't help but hug the still wrapped cloth to her chest.

The third-year watched her action with a smile while the first-years were already ripping open the plastic and trying the jacket on in glee.

"Uooooohhh! Look how cool this is!!" Hinata cried, twirling around happily.

Sugawara approaches Chiaki, the male smiling at her as he motions to the jacket in her hand. "Come on, miss medic. You're the only one who hasn't tried it on yet," the male teases.

With slight hesitance, Chiaki slips her arms into the jacket, the fabric smooth and comfortable against her skin.

"Ohh! You look lovely, Aki-san!!!!" Tanaka yelled out, looking touched, "with you and Kiyoko-san together, it would be the ultimate duo that will be undefeated!!" The male roared in excitement, his fist clenched in front of him.

This makes Chiaki laugh, the female gripping onto her sleeves, bringing it to her face and inhaling the familiar scent of new clothes washing over her.

Just as the older members admired the new members adorning their club jacket, the door of the gym slammed open, revealing a disheveled man with glasses. Chiaki blinked, recognizing him as Takeda-sensei, her Japanese Literature teacher for this year.

"Guys! I've secured a practice match! The opponent is one of the prefecture's best four! Aobajousai High School!" Takeda breathed heavily, seeming to try to even it out quickly. However, as he does, his gaze lands on Kageyama and Hinata, a bright smile spreading across his face.

"Oh! So you two must be the problematic Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun, huh?"

With the way the man acknowledged them, both boys blinked, not being able to greet him with anything but a weak, "...Osu...." looking a bit dejected being recognized as troublemakers.

The glassed teacher then turned his gaze to Chiaki, a look of surprise appearing in his round gaze. "Oh, Ibato-san! I didn't expect to see you here as well."

Chiaki bows in greeting, Daichi immediately coming to her aid as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ah, Takeda-sensei, Aki-chan has agreed to join our club. While not exactly a manager, she's able to help with the medical aspect of the club, and we decided she could help as our medic!"

This makes Takeda blink before nodding with a broad smile on his face, "oh, I see! If I recall correctly, your mother does work with sports medicine, does she not? Your help would be greatly appreciated, Ibato-san!"

Chiaki nodded, and Takeda moved his gaze back to Hinata and Kageyama, who was listening to the conversation with a bit of confusion, obviously wondering who this man was.

"Starting this year, I'm the volleyball club's advisor, Takeda Ittetsu! I don't have any volleyball experience, so I can't offer any guidance on the technical aspects, but aside from that, I look forward to us giving our all and doing our best!" Takeda explained, quickly getting a response from Kageyama and Hinata, who beamed. The teacher's attention went to the other members, the man releasing a laugh as he scratched at the back of his head, "wheew! Since I went to various places asking directly for a practice match, I didn't think I'd end up making this meeting at all!"

This makes Sugawara look a bit concerned, nodding, "Seijou is a powerful school, so how did you pull this off, Sensei?"

Daichi seemed to suddenly realize something, sending the adult a look of worry, "don't tell me you kowtowed again...?!"

This makes Takeda laugh as he waved his hand in front of him, "I didn't, not at all! Kowtowing is my strong point, and I'm good at it, but I didn't do it this time!"

Chiaki blinks, processing her sensei's words with a sweatdrop. So, he has kowtowed before....

"It's just, there's a condition for the match..."

This catches everyone's attention, looking at Takeda to continue. "They requested that Kageyama-kun will act as the setter the entire game."

Chiaki's eyes narrowed, a thoughtful look appearing in her face. Aobajousei was a school she knew well. How could she not when she had multiple acquaintances who went there? And seeing who went there, this request wasn't something too surprising. However, that didn't stop her from looking at Sugawara, Daichi doing the same thing.

Tanaka was obviously ticked off by what the condition was, a dark look appearing on his face, "so they're saying that they've got no interest in Karasuno itself, huh? Right now, they only want to go against Kageyama, is that it? What the hell? Are they mocking us? How about I mock them up?"

Takeda flinches at the aggression Tanaka shows, taking a timid step back, "n-no... erm, they probably don't mean it in a nasty way like that...."

Chiaki watches as Sugawara closes his eyes for a brief moment, seeming to decide what he is going to do. He steps forward, placing a hand on Tanaka's shoulder, stopping the male, "that's fine. This isn't a chance you get every day."

This seemed to be a surprise to Tanaka, the male looking at his senpai with a frown. "Suga-san! Are you really okay with that?!"

The said male swallows as he speaks, "I want to see just how good Hinata and Kageyama's attack will be against one of the top four."

Chiaki closes her eyes, thinking about the position Sugawara was in. With a sigh, she looked at the ceiling, the artificial orange light making her squint. This sucks...

"Aki-senpai, are you, uh.... Are you going to be alright going to Seijoh?" Kageyama questioned as he walked beside the female. Chiaki blinked, tilting her head to the side a bit.

"Hm, yeah? Why are you asking that, Tobi-kun?" Chiaki questioned in confusion, swinging her arms a bit, smiling as her new black jacket fluttered a bit at the movement.

Kageyama scratched his chin before stuffing his hand in his pocket. "Uh, last time we talked, you said you also cut off Iwaizumi-san. Doesn't he go to that school?"

Chiaki blinked, swallowing hard as she realized what Kageyama was saying. His face popped in her head, and just doing that made the silver-haired female pale. Why did I forget such important information...?!

Feeling suddenly gloomy, Chiaki spoke up, "d-do you think I can skip out on this match?" She meekly questioned, her hand shooting out to grab Kageyama's. The male almost sweat dropped feeling how she shook so much, the vibration going up his arm.

In response, Kageyama shakes his head, making Chiaki release a devastating sigh. "I might end up getting murdered after the match then..."

"Did I just hear you trying to already skip?" Chiaki jumps as a large hand lands on her head. Daichi grins down at her in amusement as she denies, shaking her head with a pout.

Daichi laughs as Kageyama and Chiaki share a guilty look, "come on, I'm treating you all to some meat buns. You guys must be hungry."

This brightens Kageyama, the first year following his senpai eagerly. Chiaki, on the other hand, drags her feet, entering the Sakanoshita Shop. She smiles at the man behind the counter, the said man raising his hand in greeting.

"Aki-chan, can you stay in here for a bit. Suga, Kageyama, and I want to have a meeting, and we want your input as well. Let me just go out and give the others their meat buns, and I'll return." Daichi explained as he handed the female a steaming meat bun before making his way outside.

Hot potato-ing the hot bun, Chiaki finds a seat at one of the tables in the shop, Sugawara quickly joining her, followed by Daichi and Kageyama. The four of them huddle with their heads together, quietly muttering to each other.

"I've been thinking about Hinata's position in the upcoming practice match. What are your thoughts?" Daichi questioned, looking between Kageyama and Chiaki, who sat next to each other.

The two of them shared eye contact before nodding, both of them knew they had a similar idea going on.

"I think..."

🏐 🏐EXTRA 🏐 🏐 (none related to this chapter)

🏐 🏐9 YEARS AGO🏐 🏐

"Onii-chan!!"

Minato blinks, volleyball he plans on setting to his spiker landing on his face, bouncing off of it before rolling to the ground. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes as he held his nose.

None of his teammates voiced their concern for him, their attention on the small girl that stepped into the gym, her brown hair being a fluffy mess that crowned her face.

"Ah, our cute team mascot is finally here!" One of the boys cooed, his cheeks flushing as the small girl trotted into the stadium, diving to her brother's legs, wrapping her arms tightly around his thighs as she hugged him.

Minato sighed as he bent down, picking up his eight-year-old sister into his arm. He pressed a quick kiss into her sweaty temple, his lips curling as Chiaki released a happy giggle, wrapping her thin arms around his neck.

"Chi-chan, you know better to just interrupt my practice," Minato gently scolds, the tiny girl grabbing onto his white shirt sadly, "what would have happened if one of my teammates were spiking? You could have gotten hit by one of the balls."

Chiaki looked down in shame, "sorry, Onii-chan..."

Minato sighs, squeezing his little sister once more. "As long as you don't do it again."

The other boys in the gym watch the scene with warm eyes, some of them envious of the relationship between them.

"Minato."

At the gruff voice, Minato stiffened, immediately turning and bowing to his coach. "Sorry, coach!"

This makes Ukai release a low chuckle, "it's fine, I've gotten used to it. Although, I can't deny that practice was abruptly stopped. Give her to me and go back on setting before those other brats get impatient," the man with white hair comments, spreading his arms.

Chiaki beamed as she opened her arms as she's passed from her brother to his coach, Ukai cradling the small girl in his arms before placing her on his lap where they watched practice.

"Did you have practice today, too, little one?" Ukai questioned as patted her head as she watched the high school boys intently.

Chiaki beams at the question, nodding with a smile, "I did! I stopped Wakkun's spike today. He wasn't that happy, but it's not scary like my daddy's or Onii-chans', so I was fine," the little girl proudly explained.

Ukai chuckled as he ruffled her hair once more, the softness under his fingers making his eyes soften. "You'll end up being strong too then, like your father and brothers."

"Mmhm," Chiaki nodded, her eyes back on the court. However, she spoke up with a tilt of her head, "is it break time? No one is tossing the ball."

This makes Ukai's head snap back to his team, a tick mark appearing on his face as he glowered as he sees the boys all staring at little Chiaki in hopes of getting a stress relief they craved during practice. Using his hand, the adult covered Chiaki's little ears.

"YOU BRATS!! GO BACK TO PRACTICING, OR I MAKE YOU DO THIRTY SUICIDES!!!"

Chiaki released a childish giggle of glee.

🏐 🏐 A/N🏐 🏐

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I wondering if you all noticed a little Easter egg in the EXTRA, hehe. I'm not gonna reveal anything but I hope it caught some of your attention and raised an eyebrow.

I'm positive some of you will have questions about it but ahhhh! So exciting. I have like six chapters in stock rn for this book, so I can promise you'll we'll be having updates until December for sure. I'm actually working in chapter 11 and I'm almost done as well. I'm having so much fun writing this book!!

Don't forget to vote and comment, I love hearing all of your thoughts!

Next chapter | EX is coming out on October 2, 2020!

And happy early birthday to Chiaki, Tsukishima, and me! September babies!!! I made Chiaki's birthday same as mine as ours is a day before Tsukki's

-Ember

Posted: 9/18/2020

9 notes · View notes

frozenartscapes · 5 years ago

Text

Screech In - FE3H Fic

If you’re not familiar with the Newfoundlander tradition of a “Screech In”, I highly recommend you check it out. Or just listen to this song from Come From Away. This isn’t exactly that, but Screech is involved...

---

It was a miserable, rainy evening when the Imperial Army marched into a tiny village in recently-conquered Alliance territory. Waterlogged and exhausted, the Emperor and her team headed to the inn to secure lodging for the night. That was all that was needed, really, but as the Black Eagles gathered in the small pub under the inn for a meagre meal, they overheard talk that might help their cause.

Talk coming from a group of rowdy, crude bandits.

It was something about a secret path to the Kingdom. A route through rough terrain initially believed to be impassable unless on a pegasus or wyvern. Such information would be highly valuable to the Imperial Army.

“We ain’t telling you shit!” the lead bandit spat, sending little bits of food into Hubert’s face.

Hubert barely grimaced as he stiffly wiped his face with a handkerchief. “Need I remind you, gentlemen, that you are in the presence of her Imperial Majesty,” he said coolly, “And that not cooperating could get...unpleasant for you.”

“Oh ho! You hear that, Rolf?” one of the bandits asked as they slapped their leader’s shoulder with a laugh, “Her Majesty is here! Oh no! Better watch out!”

Rolf, the leader, didn’t laugh so easily. “Listen here, boy. The things you’re askin’ us about are trade secrets. Not for the bloody Emperor and every officer in the Imperial Army,” he said with a growl, “Now I suggest you skulk back to whatever coffin you crawled out of and leave us be.”

Hubert’s eye twitched. Magic gathered in his hand. “Very well,” he stated simply.

An armoured hand came to rest on his shoulder, forcing the magic to dissipate. “And what would it take to share this ‘trade secret’?” Edelgard asked, her voice doing a fantastic job hiding how angry she was at the men. No one insulted Hubert like that while she was around.

A chorus of sarcastic “ooooh”s came from the gang, and all eyes were on Rolf. “Lady,” he said after a long swig of his drink, “You could give me your marble palace, that gold crown on your head, and yourself, buck naked in my bed, and I still wouldn’t tell you anything.”

Byleth stepped forward, beginning to unsheath her sword. No one talked to Edelgard like that, not while she was around.

Edelgard held up one hand to halt her team, all of whom had the same idea as Byleth. “Very well. If you are not willing to part with the information naturally, then perhaps if we win in a challenge?” she offered.

Ferdinand gasped, genuinely insulted. “What? She won’t accept any of my challenges but these drunkards-” His complaining was cut short by Dorothea’s elbow to his ribcage.

Rolf scoffed. “You think I’m dumb enough to challenge you lot?” he said dryly, “There’d be no bloody contest if we were to fight ya.”

“It does not have to be a test of strength,” Edelgard told him, keeping her voice as steady as always, “I’m sure there must be something you believe you’d have an advantage in. Name your challenge.”

Rolf eyed her for a moment, and then he chuckled. He waved to the bartender, and said with a smug grin, “Very well, Lady. You’ve got yourself a deal. My challenge is this: if any of you can beat me and my men in a drinking contest, then you’ve got your information. Once we remember it in the morning, of course. You lose, and you pack up all your men and never set foot in this village again.”

“That’s...not so bad,” Caspar muttered.

“Oh and I forgot to mention,” Rolf continued as the bartender set down a large bottle with an unidentifiable liquid inside, “We’ll be drinking this stuff. Screech. Bet you’ve never heard of it before, eh, Little Lady?”

“Oh this is bad,” Byleth breathed. She rushed to the Emperor’s side and whispered, “Edelgard, this stuff is practically poison. It’s taken down some of the biggest, meanest mercenaries I’ve ever met. I don’t think any of you will be able to drink more than a shot of the stuff.”

“Are you doubting us, Professor?” Edelgard shot back with an eyebrow raised.

“Well... Yes. Actually,” Byleth admitted with a sigh, “Like I said: the biggest guys I’ve ever met couldn’t handle this stuff.”

“And what about you, Professor?”

Byleth blinked. She’d had Screech before. Only a shot or two before Jeralt stopped her. (Yeah, it was bad enough for Jeralt to step in.) But...she felt fine afterward.

“Fire consumes alcohol, Professor,” Edelgard uttered. Byleth shot her a confused glance before it all began to click.

Oh no. She was not-

“I’ll try it,” Caspar offered, stepping forward before anyone could stop him.

Rolf’s ridiculous smile remained plastered on his face as he poured a shot of Screech and handled it to Caspar. Caspar threw it back and almost instantly he was on the floor, coughing and sputtering and screaming at the burning sensation in his mouth.

“Goddess, what’s in that?” he shouted angrily, reaching for his neck to ensure the stuff hadn’t burned through his throat.

Rolf and his cronies were howling with laughter. “And that is why we call it Screech!” he shouted proudly, before levelling the tiny Emperor a victorious smile, “Who’s next?”

Edelgard said not a word. Instead, with her head held high, she stepped forward and took a seat at the table across from Rolf, much to the shock and amusement of the band of bandits and the horror of her own team.

“Lady Edelgard, I must insist-” Hubert began, his composure breaking only a little in his panic.

“Hubert, I promise you, I can handle this,” Edelgard interrupted, remaining as calm as ever.

“Yeah, Hubert! This could be fun,” Lindhardt said sarcastically.

“Oh, I can’t watch!” Bernadetta squeaked, taking cover behind an equally terrified Dorothea.

Byleth glanced between the team and Edelgard and heaved a heavy sigh. She stepped forward, and took a seat beside the Emperor. “Let’s at least make this fair,” she said, earning a grateful glance from Edelgard.

“You two?” Rolf demanded incredulously, eyes darting between the two young woman seated across from him. He laughed, and poured them both a shot of Screech and one for himself. “Your funeral,” he stated before taking the drink, wincing slightly at the taste.

Edelgard and Byleth both reached for their shots. They looked to each other, raised their glasses, and drank.

Not even a flinch between them.

Rolf’s smile was wiped off his face in an instant. He took a look at the bottle of Screech, as if checking to ensure he had actually poured it for them.

“What just happened?” Ferdinand said after recovering from the shock.

“We’re going to win, is what happened!” Caspar shouted triumphantly from the floor.

“Sometimes the first shot doesn’t register right away,” Rolf said defensively, pouring another round, “It’s the second one that gets ya.”

“That’s not at all what I’ve heard about Screech,” Byleth said as she casually downed her shot, “The whole point is that it knocks you out flat after the first drink.”

Edelgard finished hers with equal ease. “I’m not entirely sure what the big deal was,” she said, stoic as ever, “It’s got lovely notes of smoked wood and spice. I might almost consider having this from time to time in my study.”

Rolf sputtered in shock, choking a little on his own shot. “Screech doesn’t have a taste!” he stated, “It’s just supposed to burn.”

“I disagree,” Edelgard said simply, “It’s actually quite delicious.”

“Are you...serious, right now?”

“What’s the matter, Rolf?” Byleth challenged, “Afraid you might lose? We can call this off if you want, provided you give us what we want.”

Rolf’s expression dropped into a hardened, stubborn line. “I never back down from a fight,” he growled. He poured another round and sucked back his with a grimace. “If I can’t beat a couple of women in a drinking contest, then I’ve failed as a bandit.”

“You probably might want to consider a career change, then,” Byleth replied. She and Edelgard clinked their glasses together before taking the shots.

Rolf and his cronies didn’t look so confident anymore.

---

It was a few hours later. Three empty bottles of Screech sat on the table. Everyone in the bar had gathered around, watching the show with much amusement. Drinks had been passed around, laughs were had, and all around it was a great time.

All because of one silly little contest.

One Edelgard and Byleth were winning. By a lot.

The pair of them were definitely beginning to feel the effects of all that alcohol. Byleth’s tongue had gotten a lot sharper and her words significantly more colourful. Edelgard’s stiff persona had melted away and her cheeks were steadily becoming the same colour as her armour.

But both of them were faring far better than Rolf and his cronies. The gang of bandits had to tag each other in and out of the contest, all seven of them eventually going head-to-head with the duo. None of them made it very long. Only Rolf stayed in it, soldiering on despite barely being able to keep his head up. His confidence was now completely gone, and it looked like he’d sooner drink deadly poison than another shot of Screech.

“You two...you aren’t...human,” he wheezed, struggling to keep from heaving up the potent contents of his stomach.

“Probably not,” Byleth said with a shrug, sending Edelgard a knowing smile. She raised her glass and stated triumphantly, “To Adrestia! And a brighter tomorrow!”

Everyone in the bar cheered and drank to that toast as Byleth and Edelgard did the same.

Edelgard poured two more drinks and raised her own glass. “To Captain Jeralt! A man I had the most pleasure to meet, an incredible warrior, and...” She smiled at Byleth. “...One amazing father. May his memory live on!”

“Whoo! To the Captain!” Caspar cheered as he took a long drink of beer.

Hubert put his head in his hands in defeat.

Byleth, not to be outdone, poured another drink and made another toast: “To Ionius IX! I never knew him personally but he raised one hell of a daughter!”

“This is either the greatest thing I’ve ever seen or the most horrifying,” Dorothea uttered.

“Well, it’s a good thing everyone here is drunk, because no one is going to believe this happened tomorrow,” Lindhardt sighed.

Rolf attempted to keep up but his dexterity was so far gone he couldn’t bring the glass up to his mouth.

“Well come on, Rolf,” Byleth said with all the confidence of a drunken mercenary, “I thought you picked this challenge because you were sure you’d win.”

“I’m not...going to lose,” Rolf argued weakly, “Just need to...rest for a minute.”

“Well what’s the point of a drinking contest if naps are taken halfway through?” Edelgard jabbed with a laugh, “They’d never end if they were like that!”

“You two... Are clearly cheatin’...somehow,” Rolf drawled, “I don’t know how, but... Y’are. Be that as it may, I won’t...go down so easy.”

“You think that was easy?” Byleth asked as she clinked two of the three empty bottles together.

“I think it’s time we finished this, Professor,” Edelgard said, gesturing to the bartender to bring three more bottles.

“My Lady, what are you doing?” Hubert hissed, “You’ve clearly won. Just wait for the man to fall out of his seat.”

“Not now, Hubert,” Edelgard returned, her words only slurring just a little, “Rolf here had the gall to insult my companions and was dumb enough to accept a challenge from me. I’m sure Ferdinand knows what must be done.”

Hubert whipped around to face Ferdinand, who held up his hands in defence. “I swear to you I have no idea she would go this far,” he stammered.

“Then what was she talking about?” Hubert demanded.

“She’s, um...” Ferdinand winced and prayed Hubert’s head wasn’t about to explode, “She’s going for a critical.”

The bartender set the bottles of Screech down at the table with a look of concern on his face. Which was saying a lot, as this was a man who looked like he wouldn’t normally be concerned about anything.

Edelgard passed one bottle to Byleth and set the other in front of Rolf. “We’re ahead of you by about seven shots, but let's make this interesting,” she said with a victorious grin, “If you can finish that before we finish ours, you win.”

“You’re mad,” Rolf spat, eyeing the bottle as if it were about to burst into flames.

“Perhaps I am,” Edelgard said as she sat back in her chair, “‘The Mad Emperor’... I like the sound of that.”

“No, you don’t!” Hubert stated grumpily, “And you are not doing this! No amount of information in the world would-”

“Hubert, buddy, I love ya, but you should have made this argument, like... Two hours ago,” Byleth slurred, earning her a death glare she was too drunk to care about, “I’m in! Get going, Rolf!”

Rolf picked up the bottle in his hand and grimaced. He shakily brought it to his lips and took a small sip. Almost immediately, his body rejected it and he spat the Screech back out onto the floor, coughing and sputtering and choking on the burning liquid.

“I give,” he wheezed, “We all do! You win, you demons, the pair of ya!”

“Congrats, El! You are officially a Demon!” Byleth shouted triumphantly.

“Victory is ours!” Edelgard declared, the whole bar erupting into cheers. Caspar was especially loud.

“Cheers, my Crimson Demon,” Byleth said, holding up her bottle, “It’s been an honour as always to fight by your side.”

“And, as always, I am forever grateful to have you here with me,” Edelgard replied, clinking her bottle against Byleths.

And then, to the horror of most of the Black Eagles, the pair downed the entire contents of their bottles of Screech. Rolf, bearing witness to such a bold move, passed out.

What followed would be a night remembered by that village for years to come.

As it turned out, the shenanigans that went down that infamous night in that little town became a legend. Since the start of the war that little town had had little to celebrate. The arrival of the Emperor of Adrestia and her army at first seemed to be like a slap in the face.

Until the same Emperor who had defeated the Alliance came down from her high horse and had a drink with the people, revealing herself to be just as human as any one of them.

She also put Rolf in his place, which was welcomed by many in that little town.

In the years following, a festival took place on that day. There were plenty of laughs, competition, and fun. And enough Screech to last an army.

It would not, however, be remembered by the two women at the centre of it all.

---

Sunlight filtered in through broken blinds, pouring into the room as streaks of light made clear by dust particles floating in the air. Birds chirped happily, finding plenty to eat in the damp ground after the rain.

Edelgard slowly became aware of the birds, though she wasn’t ready to face the sunlight. She was warm and comfortable in her bed, the scratchy wool blanket the only thing slightly unpleasant. She opened one eye but closed it immediately, groaning softly as shooting pain in her head appeared right between the eyes. Forget waking up - she was happy here where it was soft and warm.

Then her pillow snored. And suddenly she was aware that her head wasn’t resting on a pillow.

But her professor’s chest.

Her eyes flew open and she shot up, which was a mistake because the vertigo mixed with the splitting headache almost made her throw up. The sound she made - a combination of a startled yelp and a pained groan - was enough to cause Byleth to stir slightly. Edelgard heard her moan something, possibly requesting an extra five minutes of sleep.

As Edelgard held her head in one hand, almost ready to pray to the goddess just to make the pain go away, she tried to start piecing together the previous night. She and Byleth were both still clothed, which was a good sign. They had somehow managed to remove most of their armour and adornments - how she had managed to get her crown off will forever remain a mystery. Judging by the mess on the floor, it looked as though they pulled off what they had been able to before collapsing in a heap on the bed. Together.

“Professor,” Edelgard hissed urgently, giving Byleth’s shoulder a nudge, “My teacher!”

Byleth lazily swatted her hand away and let out a soft noise of protest. “Mmh... Turn the light off... ‘ts too bright...”

“Byleth!”

Byleth’s eyes opened at that. Despite their closeness, Edelgard still rarely referred to her by her name. She only ever did when something was wrong.

She ended up having a similar reaction to Edelgard: she opened her eyes, was immediately blinded and struck by a massive headache, and closed her eyes again while wincing in pain. “Fuck, were we poisoned last night?” she demanded grumpily, “I feel awful.”

“We likely were, and we did it to ourselves,” Edelgard said with a sigh, “I’m not going to ever hear the end of this...”

Byleth let out another pained noise as she covered her eyes with her hand. After a moment, she said bluntly: “We slept together.”

Edelgard made a noise Byleth had never heard her make before, prompting her to back peddle clumsily. “No, I mean... We shared a bed! No, not in that way, we just... Spent the night together? Platonically. Fully clothed. Shit, I’m not making this better, am I?”

Edelgard sighed and patted Byleth’s shoulder affectionally. “Just stop talking, my teacher,” she advised. She released another sigh. “Well, we can’t avoid it forever. We should get ready and face the consequences of our ridiculous actions.”

“Or we could just lie here for a bit longer?” Byleth suggested.

Edelgard pushed herself off the bed and stood on her feet for about two seconds before sinking back down. She carefully flopped down beside Byleth and swallowed the bile that had risen up in her throat. “We can lie here until the room stops spinning,” she said weakly.

Byleth rolled over and snuggled up closer to Edelgard, draping one arm over her to keep her there. “‘Plationically’, my teacher?” Edelgard asked dryly, feeling her cheeks heating up.

“Yes, platonically,” Byleth replied, “You’re warm.”

Edelgard huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “What was I thinking?” she groaned, “Of all the questionable things I’ve done in my life, that had to be the stupidest...”

“But it was kinda fun,” Byleth told her, “It was...nice, seeing you loosen up a little.”

Edelgard turned to shoot her a mild glare. “Yes, I suppose taking the stick out of my ass for a night was, I suppose, good for me.” Byleth’s eyes went wide with shock, her mouth even falling open a little. “I’m still a little drunk,” Edelgard realized.

“That...reminds me,” Byleth said slowly, rolling over and releasing Edelgard to stare at the ceiling, “I don’t remember much from last night but I do remember you saying something about fire consuming alcohol... Did you...know that the Crest of Flames would do that? Because we should be way worse right now given all we had to drink last night...”

Edelgard frowned. “It was more a hunch than anything,” she said after a pause, “I, um... It was hard, having to keep up the Imperial Princess image at grand galas and balls after... My siblings and I used to keep each other entertained, but... Well, being the only one and having to pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t... I...might have...tried to...”

Byleth reached over and took her hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “Sadly, anything I drank never seemed to have the expected result,” Edelgard continued, “Everyone else could drink to forget, but I, for whatever reason, had too high a tolerance. I have now learned I do have a limit, but if I had tried to drink that much at a royal ball I likely would have been sealed away somewhere.”

“That...would explain some things about me, then,” Byleth mused, “As a member of a band of mercenaries, it was fairly common to gather together after long days and have a few drinks. Some of them got badly drunk, but I never did. Not even a little tipsy. I always just thought it was just another... inhuman... thing about me, but...”

“Like I said, the Crest of Flames was just a guess,” Edelgard said, “I was too young to have tested my theory before gaining it, but knowing we have shared experiences only makes the theory stronger.”

“Well, it was a pretty good guess. And a good bluff.” Byleth chuckled to herself, then explained, “I’ve seen people get that drunk before but I had no idea what it felt like. Actually, if I’m being honest, I still don’t fully know. I vaguely remember Hubert glaring at me like he was going to skin me alive, and then nothing.”

“Yes, I remember about that much as well. I hope Hubert and the others aren’t too angry with us...”

Just then, the door to their room was thrown open. “Good morninggg!” the intruder sang with all the power of an opera singer. They walked right over to the window and threw the blinds open, flooding the room with light.

The hungover pair in the bed didn’t stand a chance.

“Dorothea, to what do we owe the honour of a visit?” Edelgard growled from underneath a pillow, trying desperately to shield her eyes from that accursed sunlight.

“Oh look at you, my dears! Did you have a good rest?” Dorothea asked cheerfully, completely ignoring the question and their grumpy moods.

“Something tells me they are still angry with us,” Byleth grumbled.

“Oh don’t worry,” Dorothea assured them, “If you ask me, I personally think your relationship needed something like this. One wild night of letting loose and having fun, then retiring together in the same bed? Why, it’s just like an opera!”

“This isn’t happening,” Edelgard moaned, feeling heat rising all the way up to her ears.

“Just be glad I managed to convince Hubert to allow me to wake you. He, uh, likely wouldn’t have been so gentle.”

“You call that gentle?” Byleth asked dryly.

“Oh believe me, compared to what he wanted to do, I practically gave you both the gentlest wake-up call there ever was. But I’ve only been able to stall him for so long so you two had best get up before he sets the inn on fire.”

Byleth let out a despondent moan as she rolled off the bed and onto the floor, still wrapped up in the blanket. At the loss of the covering, Edelgard flinched before slowly sitting up, removing the pillow to face the sun as bravely as she could.

“What time is it, anyway?” she asked, rubbing the side of her head weakly in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

“It’s about quarter to noon,” Dorothea chirped in reply.

“It’s what?!”

Now it was Edelgard’s turn to be on the floor in a heap, having leapt from the bed only to realize too late that her equilibrium was still compromised.

“Yes. Unfortunately Hubie isn’t very pleased about it.”

“No shit! Why didn’t anyone wake us! We were supposed to depart hours ago!” Despite the tumble, she was already moving to freshen up and collect her things off the floor, throwing any of Byleth’s items on the bed as she came across them.

“Swearing, Edie? Is now really the best time for such language?”

“Dorothea.”

“Ok!” Byleth’s hand shot up from the other side of the bed, and slowly the rest of Byleth appeared as she hoisted herself up to lean on the mattress. “Moderator with a very bad headache, here!” she stated, “Dorothea, El can swear as much as she likes, given present circumstances and the fact that she’s the Emperor. El, what we did was incredibly stupid and irresponsible and it’s time to face the consequences of that.”

“I know that! It’s that we’re late!” Edelgard shot back, “If Hubert ever speaks to me again he’s going to give me an earful. I doubt Ferdinand will ever let me live this down. I’m the one who sets the standards for my army and this is how I go about it?”

Dorothea struggled to hide her smirk. “Oh I wouldn’t worry about Ferdinand. He eventually got into the spirit and attempted to catch up with you,” she informed them.

Edelgard whipped around to stare at her in horror. Then she let out a defeated groan. “Hubert is going to kill me.”

“He won’t do that,” Byleth assured her, slowly rising to her own feet, “It’d go against everything he believes in. Me, on the other hand...”

Edelgard gathered most of Byleth’s clothes up and lobbed them toward her, Byleth effortlessly catching them with her face. The pair scrambled to get ready while Dorothea watched with thinly veiled amusement. Once presentable, and after one more long, deep breath to psyche themselves up, they headed out of the room and toward the stairs.

“Oh, I should warn you,” Dorothea added as she followed after them, “Things got pretty wild last night.”

“I gathered that, Dorothea, but I can’t imagine it is utterly horrifying,” Edelgard replied, opening the main door of the tavern to head out and seek the rest of her party.

She froze in the door, as did Byleth. Chaos would have been an understatement. She’d seen villages after battles that looked better than this one. Animals were running wild in the streets. Windows were smashed. Debris from broken kegs and crates was scattered everywhere. Fabric that looked suspiciously like curtains hung from a nearby light pole. Empty bottles lay strewn about. There were quite a few citizens passed out in gutters. Everyone else appeared to be nursing a hangover. Someone had climbed the nearby clocktower and only half-successfully hung an Adrestian banner from it. There was a horse in the town fountain, casually splashing about without a care in the world.

“Oh goddess,” Byleth breathed, “I’ve seen this before. Mercenary groups get too rowdy, it spreads into the streets, and then in the morning we get run out of town.”

“Byleth I want you to take your sword and stab me. Right in the chest, right now,” Edelgard commanded.

“She will do no such thing. Not until I have a word with both of you.”

Both women nearly leapt out of their skins at the sound of that ominous voice behind them. They both whirled around, Edelgard reaching for her dagger and Byleth the hilt of her sword.

Hubert didn’t even flinch.

“Hubert: I can explain,” Edelgard began, trying her best to stand as tall and commanding as she could. It was Hubert. She knew him better than anyone. So why was so suddenly so damn nervous?

“No need, Your Majesty,” Hubert replied, holding up his hand to stop her in her tracks, “Your plan worked well. I tracked down that bandit this morning and, while he himself was still unresponsive, his companions gave us the information we wanted. Taking the shortcut will cut our travel time significantly, and if we leave now we should arrive at our destination around the same time as if we left at the time first agreed upon.” He paused, gesturing to the town centre before them. “You also drastically increased moral with your choices last night. And successfully won the town over. It had apparently been years since they had cause to celebrate anything.”

“It...what?” Edelgard demanded.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I will now go and ready everyone for deployment.”

“Wait, you’re not mad?”

Hubert sent her a look she was sure he only ever reserved for his enemies. While his expression remained neutral, behind his eyes was a flurry of emotion - none of it good. “Absolutely not,” he replied stiffly. He then skulked past them and into the courtyard.

“You know you can yell at me!” Edelgard called after him.

“Leave him, Edie. Hubert doesn’t do explosive anger,” Dorothea sighed.

“Am I the only one who’s afraid to go to sleep tonight?” Byleth asked as she watched the shadowy man slink off. He had such an aura of grumpiness around him a stablehand ran off shrieking after accidentally making eye contact.

“We will sleep in shifts for a while,” Edelgard decided.

Dorothea snorted with laughter, beginning to head toward the group. “Oh, by the way,” she said slyly, doing a poor job at hiding the wide grin on her face, “I hope the two of you kissed each other better than you kissed that fish.”

That was the second time in one morning Byleth heard Edelgard make that noise she had previously never heard before.

#they are 'college' students after all #or were anyway #fe three houses #black eagles #edelgard #byleth #poor choices were made #but things still worked out

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batwake · 5 years ago

Text

wearing yellow to a funeral - reddie

ao3 link

summary: The Losers Club find the strength to carry on after killing It, and Richie deals with his feelings by politely ignoring them.

In the months following It, the Losers miraculously find some way to carry on. The cuts on their hands scar over and fade, Stanley gets his bandages taken off, Bev keeps her hair short and choppy, and September arrives with little fanfare.

Turns out that killing a demon clown doesn’t change much as about their status in the middle school hierarchy, but Henry Bowers isn’t around to shove Eddie into lockers and they only get called slurs every once in a while. Eighth grade, Richie decides, is the best year yet.

Puberty hits them all at full force by November, and it’s nice to see Beverly starting to laugh and smile more often as the boys’ voices crack as they get deeper, or they hurry out of the classroom with their notebooks held discreetly in front of themselves. Richie thinks it’s funny too, even has his limbs practically grow overnight and he has to actually start shaving, even if it’s just the fuzz on his upper lip.

Focusing on his developing body is a good distraction to his developing mind, as well. He thinks about how wild his hair is becoming, instead of thinking about how soft Eddie’s looks. He avoids the arcade and tells himself that it’s because he has a Sega at home, or that he’d rather be listening to his records instead.

Mike tells them all about his first kiss with some girl who hangs around the farm because her father works there. That’s the first time Richie notices how handsome Mike is, with his jaw that is just starting to square up and big, working hands.

Richie’s not stupid. He knows the other Losers are attractive, and what this means for him. It’s just starting to become a problem.

When Bill tosses his arm around him in the hallway, Richie is quick to stumble out a laugh and brush his arm off. When Ben and Stan are hovering on either side of him, looking at something in a textbook, Richie leans as far back as he can without breaking the rickety old library chair.

When it gets warm enough again, Richie spends a Saturday morning by himself at the Kissing Bridge, trying to force himself to scribble out the letters that he scratched there himself nearly a year ago. They’re going into high school, how could Richie still feel like that, after everything? He had sort of been hoping that the clown had snuffed out his Eddie-Libido. Instead the damn thing had added fuel to the fire.

Instead Richie sits in the still-wet grass for an hour or two, digging his pocket knife even further into the wood and forcing the letters back to prominence after the last eight months of wear and tear.

It feels childish. The whole walk to Eddie’s house, he contemplates turning around, running back to the bridge, and kicking the damn post over and off the cliff for good. Instead he just ends up in Eddie’s bed, laughing and reading comics and thinking thoughts he shouldn’t think, relishing in their private moments, where it’s just them, before they leave to meet up with the other Losers in the afternoon.

It’s easier to pretend, if he lets himself be present. Poke and prod Eddie like he always does, but avoid skin. Call him the stupid nicknames, but not my love, or dearest, as he had when they were younger, grinning and shoving at each other. He throws a few extra mom jokes in there, and Eddie even laughs, bright and warm and beautiful.

One ounce of honesty per day.

By the summer before their junior year, it almost feels like they’ve moved on with their lives. Richie can walk through the park again, Stan can hear the sound of a flute without a panic attack. Bill’s stutter is even mostly gone, which the Losers figure is the miracle of miracles. The sunshine after the storm, the good omen to put the past behind them and be semi-normal teens.

Hey guys, Richie doesn’t say, remember when we fought that evil clown a few summers ago? Wasn’t that fun?

Sometimes Richie feels like the only one who remembers. None of them bring it up unless it’s on accident. And even then, it’s fleeting. Just a moment, a second of silence if someone says something about a clown, or balloons, or Georgie.

Ben and Richie are by themselves in the clubhouse one afternoon. Richie’s stretched out in the hammock, his gangly limbs poking every which way.

“I can’t believe we used to fit multiple people in here,” Richie says, offhand. There’s the beat of quiet, as both Richie and Ben remember the Summer of It when Eddie and Richie used to share the thing all the time. Then, Richie continues, “we should get another one.”

Ben scoffs. “There’s no room for that. Besides, I’m sure you and Eddie could find some way to squeeze in there together.”

More silence, but it’s not the heavy, thick kind that usually befalls them as they remember that summer. This silence is a bit more awkward, more friendly. Well intended.

“Why’re you signalling Eds out?” Richie laughs the weight in his chest away. “You could come cuddle with me, Benny-boy.” He makes kissing noises as Ben huffs out that almost-laugh that he does when he isn’t really sure what to say.

Well, that makes two of them.

“I mean, that’s yours and Eddie’s spot,” Ben finally says, albeit a bit sheepishly.

Richie leans forward as far as he can in the hammock, trying to get a good view of Ben. He’s sitting on the floor, writing, or drawing, or something. Stan and Bill have already begun college applications, Richie wouldn’t be surprised if Ben was hopping on that train too.

“It’s not our spot,” Richie says defensively. “Bev sits in here all the time.”

“Sure,” says Ben. He sounds sarcastic, which is rare for him. “You guys might as well write your initials on the side of that thing.”

Richie very carefully tries not to choke on his spit or fall off the hammock. Ben continues, “maybe we should just get a new one, so you can both fit.”

“No!”

“Weren’t you the one just campaigning for a second one?”

Frustrated, Richie flops back onto his back, closing his eyes as the hammock rocks beneath him. Sure, it’s getting old, more brown than yellow these days, and there’s definitely several holes from where Richie and Eddie had dug the heels of their feet into the nylon a few too many times. It smells like dust and water from the quarry, and maybe a little like the lemon cleaning supplies that Sonia Kaspbrak uses. It isn’t hard to imagine Eddie sitting with him, as much as they have grown in the last few years. They’d find a way to force themselves in just to annoy each other.

There’s the sound of shuffling, like Ben putting down his papers and crawling across the space to sit next to the hammock. Then, a reassuring hand finding Richie’s shoulder.

Richie opens his eyes. Ben is looking over the edge of the hammock, a knowing look on his face.

“Benjamin Handsome,” Richie presses his hand against Ben’s face as he laughs, “I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

Folding his arms, Richie looks back up at the ceiling. Some dust falls. Richie opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the sound of voices, quickly followed by the hatch opening.

“Hey,” says Mike as he climbs down, followed by Eddie. If Ben notices the hitch in Richie’s breath, he doesn’t say anything.

“We were just talking about how old this hammock is, do you think we should replace it?”

Eddie’s face appears over Richie’s, an odd look on his face. “Why should we?”

“Ben doesn’t think we can both fit in it anymore!” Eddie yelps as Richie grabs him by the shoulders and hauls him into the hammock. They spend a few seconds laughing and flailing, almost falling off the damn thing several times, before they manage to steady themselves, Richie still sprawled out and Eddie place precariously on his lap, legs on either side of Richie’s hips. Both of their faces are red, and Eddie is breathing sort of heavily.

“I knock the wind out of ya, eh Eds?”

He can’t be totally sure, but Richie almost swears that Eddie gets a bit pinker around the ears. “Fuck you, Trashmouth, you could’ve killed both of us just then! Crack both of our skulls open-- ”

Mike and Ben are laughing somewhere to Richie’s right. Eddie’s going off on some tangent about hammock safety, but makes no real effort to move, and doesn’t even say anything once Richie’s hand finds purchase on his calf, right above where he used to wear those ridiculous socks. The skin there is soft and smooth, unlike Richie’s legs, whose growth spurt also included dark hair on most parts of his body. Richie takes a moment to revel in that, think about what that means, before he tunes back in to what Eddie is saying, his face screwed up in a very cute way.

Mentally, Richie sprays himself with water. Down, boy.

“--and what would have even been the point, a total waste of time.”

Eddie shakes his head with a sigh when he realizes that Richie hadn’t been listening. “If this thing breaks with both of us on it, it’s your fault.” Then, he flops onto his back, unfolding his knees and sticking his feet in Richie’s face. They’re more on top of each other than they ever were as kids, and something feels a bit different than how it did when they were thirteen. Eddie even kicks of Richie’s glasses.

His vision is fuzzy as he looks over the yellow nylon, glasses disappearing somewhere between their tangled limbs, but can still tell that Ben and Mike are flashing him two thumbs up.

It’s kind of ridiculous, that the whole thing comes to a head during their senior year.

At this point, Richie is fairly sure that most, if not all, the other Losers know about his crush. He hates calling it that, feels like a twelve year old carving their initials into the fucking kissing bridge. He keeps thinking that one day he’ll wake up and the feelings will be gone, that he’ll realize that it wasn’t romantic at all and that it was just the lingering side effects of It or some shit. It doesn’t help that Richie’s still a teenager who has needs and likes sex.

Eddie, in his track uniform, sweaty after a meet. In the quarry, stripped down to his underwear, wet and smiling like the sun. Even during the goddamn winter, Eddie’s nose pink and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and shouting profanities as Richie throws snowballs at him. It’s enough to drive an eighteen year old closeted, flaming homosexual crazy.

Beverly likes to look at Richie knowingly over cigarettes, just as Ben does whenever Richie and Eddie are in the hammock together. Bill pats his shoulder in a sorry, buddy, gesture. Mike and Stanley like to give vague speeches, about patience and idiots who just need to shut up and make out already.

Mike and Stan aren’t the most subtle, to say the least.

They go to prom, all seven of them as each other’s dates. Richie wears this hideous powder blue suit that he found in an antique store for three dollars, and Eddie manages to keep a straight face as Richie bows and asks him for a dance.

To his surprise, Eddie takes the hand that Richie had extended, pulling them head first onto the dancefloor full of girls with too much hairspray in their hair and guys who aren’t wearing enough deodorant. Behind them, Richie can hear the other Losers cheering and whistling.

“Y’know Eds, I had kind of expected you to throw punch in my face or something,” Richie says, loudly enough over the music once they’ve stopped in the crowd of people. Eddie shrugs, and starts moving his shoulders and legs in the most perfect, awkward way possible. Richie follows his lead, bouncing lightly on his toes to the beat.

Just as the chorus kicks in, they both open their mouths to sing along, grinning goofily at each other.

There’s a room where the light won’t find you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. When they do, I’ll be right behind you.

Eddie’s sort of screaming it, and Richie supposes that he is too. Their hands are held tightly together as they dance playfully, spinning and wiggling their arms and laughing the whole way through.

So glad we’ve almost made it, so sad they had to fade it, everybody wants to rule the world.

Despite the people all around them, Richie feels like it’s just them. Richie and Eddie, Eddie and Richie.

When the song ends and transitions into something else, they’re pressed closely together. More people have joined the dance floor, and it takes a second for Richie to realize that it’s because a slow song started to play. Couples with matching dresses and ties start to pair up, or hopeful looking boys hover awkwardly around a bored looking girl who looks out of their league. Richie even spots Ben and Bev over Eddie’s shoulder.

His eyes drop back down to Eddie, who is still looking up at him. Eddie’s sort of standing between Richie’s legs, and one of his hands holds onto Richie’s sleeve. They’re both breathing heavily.

“Hey,” Richie says breathlessly. “Wanna go outside?”

“Yes please,” Eddie huffs, and it’s maybe the sexiest thing Richie’s ever heard.

They shuffle through the crowd of high schoolers until they get to the gym’s side door, slipping out into the warm night unnoticed.

The door clicks shut behind them. The music is muffled, but still audible. Richie laughs and leans against the brick wall. “You sure know how to treat a lady, Eds.”

Eddie shakes off his black suit jacket and seems to relish in the relief for a moment. It’s only then that Richie realizes how warm he is, too.

Richie is quick to follow suit.

“That suit is hideous.”

“You’re hideous.”

“Real smooth, Trashmouth.”

Richie shrugs, tossing the jacket onto the concrete. Eddie winces, but lets him do the same to his own.

There’s only one light on this side of the building, casting their little alleyway in an eerie sort of glow. As they collect themselves, Richie doesn’t have to even say anything to know that they’re both thinking the same thing. It.

Richie holds out his hand. Their fingers slip together easily as Eddie steps forward and back into Richie’s space. Neither of them have really slow danced, unless you count the time they drunkenly celebrated New Years in Bill’s basement and broke a vase as they attempted the Dirty Dancing dance.

It’s not too hard to get into. Richie’s hands go to Eddie’s waist, and Eddie wraps his arms around Richie’s neck. The height difference makes it slightly difficult, and it’s only when Richie laughs lightly does Eddie step on Richie’s foot.

“Dick,” Richie mutters into Eddie’s hair as he hunches his shoulders. Eddie can wrap himself around Richie properly now, one of his hands tangled into the mess that has become Richie’s hair. Then, “you look good tonight. I, ah.” He huffs nervously as he feels one of the hands on his neck tighten. “Yellow is your color.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh into Richie’s shirt. He pulls back a little, just enough to look up at his taller friend. Richie takes him in, with his yellow dress shirt and cute curls and a stupid smirk on his face.

“Thanks,” Eddie says simply. He let’s Richie spin him, and it feels oddly elegant, even if they’re just two teenagers poorly slow dancing in an alleyway behind their senior prom. “I’d say you look good too, but I don’t think baby blue suits you.”

“Yeah, I agree, I’ll have to ask your mom if I can borrow one of her yellow blouses so we can match next time.”

He just manages to catch Eddie roll his eyes before he realizes that his head is being tugged down and their mouths are being pressed together.

Well then.

Richie spends a second trying to decide what to do, while also battling with the thirteen year old horndog in the back of his brain that is two seconds away from getting on his knees. Just as he decides to tilt his head, though, Eddie is stepping away. He looks surprised, if anything.

Eddie opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, then closes it with a click of his teeth. Christ, Richie was just kissing that mouth.

“I would’ve asked to borrow a shirt from your mom years ago if I had known you’d do that,” Richie finally manages.

Eddie groans and runs his hands through his hair. It sticks up in several directions, and all Richie can think is cute cute cute. “Can’t you be serious for two seconds?”

“I am serious!” Richie waves an arm vaguely. “I’ve been in love with you since we were like, eleven! And don’t even get me started on that stupid cl--”

They’re kissing again before Richie can finish the sentence, which is just as well. Eddie’s up on his toes and Richie’s leaning down, wrapping his arms around him and pulling Eddie as closely to his chest as possible.

“You’re so stupid,” Eddie mutters into Richie’s mouth. It sounds more like Oar Show Shoe Ped, but Richie is basically the leading expert on all things Eddie Kaspbrak, and gets the jist. Richie’s about ready to add very good at kissing to the list of Strange Things About Eddie Kaspbrak, right between wears socks to bed and can say the alphabet backwards.

When Richie leaves for LA, Eddie gives him a little black journal. “For your jokes,” he says with a final kiss to the side of Richie’s face.

It’s only once Richie is on the plane does he find the flowers, dried and pressed carefully between the front and the first page of the notebook. They’re the same yellow ones that grow in Richie’s backyard back in Derry. The same ones that Eddie braided into Richie’s hair, and the little blue and yellow ones that Richie liked to decorate Eddie’s windowsill with.

The old lady on the plane beside him tells him that the yellow ones are called butterweeds. Then, with a sweet laugh and a hand pressed to her heart, “and those blue ones with the yellow in the middle. Forget-me-nots. ”

“Makes sense,” Richie says shakily, although he doesn’t know why. “I’m leaving my hometown to go to LA.”

The woman pats Richie’s leg reassuringly, sensing the trepidation in his voice. “I’m sure it’ll all work out fine.”

People ask Richie all the time; what’s with you and the color yellow?

The Lie: It’s my favorite color.

The Truth: I have vague memories of yellow shirts and yellow sneakers and yellow hammocks. When I first moved to LA I always painted my nails yellow because it made me feel less homesick. I keep these pressed yellow weeds taped in this thirty year old notebook and I’m not sure why. The smell of cleaning supplies makes me sick. Sometimes, I have these strange dreams, of the sun reflected on clear water and a yellow raincoat. There’s laughing, and smiling, and joy, but there’s also something like fear. Shame. Guilt. And the yellow that got me through it, the light within the darkness. You know when you press your fingers to your eyes, and you start to see spots? That’s what yellow feels like. So I surround myself with yellow. Yellow flowers in the green room, yellow lights on set. Ugly yellow patterned shirts because they make me laugh and I know they make someone else do, too. Yellow phone cases, yellow ties, yellow posters for my Yellow! tour, where I tell an odd joke about being allergic to lemons, even though I’m not, and I don’t know anyone who is. I remember a yellow hammock, and a warm, sunshine filled body pressed close to me. I remember how yellow the sun seemed after… something. Darkness. Something that I see in my nightmares but I forget the words before I wake up. Something yellow.

When the Losers Club officially reunites 27 years later and Richie remembers why he hates arcades so much, he waits for the memories of yellow to return to him. In the clubhouse, there’s the yellow hammock, where he wonders if he and Eddie would still fit. They pass by Richie’s old house, and he can almost see the yellow weeds peeking out from behind a fence. Eddie says something about lemons, and he remembers that it was Eddie who had claimed to be allergic to them, all those years ago, and how his house smelled like lemon cleaning supplies anyway.

They fight It for the second time, and they’re pretty sure they killed it for good this time. When Richie got caught in the deadlights, the glowing yellow of them was so bright that they were almost white. Something about it doesn’t sit pleasantly in Richie’s stomach, as if the color has been ruined for good.

They make it out alive, climbing out of the wreckage of Neilbolt and back into the daylight. Richie is supporting Eddie, who limps slightly but is otherwise unscathed. They watch, all seven of them, as the house crumbles in on itself, darkness and evil crumbling until there’s nothing but them and the sun. Stan says something about how glad he is that he made it, just to see this house finally disappear for good. It makes them laugh, in the tense moment, and when Richie looks down and over at Eddie, he’s glad he made it here too.

“I hate this,” Eddie groans, almost as soon as he comes back up for air after jumping into the quarry. The sun reflects off the water and onto their faces, just like Richie remembers it.

“I knew you’d say that!” Beverly splashes him for good measure, which just makes Eddie sputter and gag more than he already was.

It feels like they’re thirteen again, splashing each other and squealing at the feeling of something brushing their feet. By the time they’ve tired themselves out and begin the walk back into town, Richie’s starting to feel like he’s missing something, as their long and weird journey comes to an end.

“I don’t remember this walk being this long when we were kids,” Mike groans. He raises an arm over his head and audibly cracks it.

“That’s what happens when you get old,” Ben says, who’s one to talk. He’s easily the most in shape of all of them.

“We've almost made it,” Bill reminds them, putting on his Leader voice. Even as an adult, that tone in Bill’s voice makes Richie want to believe it.

Stan hums something from beside Richie in response to Bill.

Richie freezes, as if a shock went through his entire body. It’s enough to make Stan and Eddie stop to look at him worriedly, signaling to the others to pause.

“Stanley,” Richie says, looking at his old friend, who really hasn’t aged a day. “What were you just humming?”

He looks surprised, like that’s not what he was expecting Richie to ask. After a moment of confusion, he says, “Everybody wants to rule the world. Tears for Fears? I’m sure you know it.”

There’s a second, a moment, where Richie processes that information. He’s used to this feeling by now, his brain struggling to catch up to what his heart knows--

“Prom!” He shouts excitedly, spinning around to face Eddie, whose eyebrows are raised adorably high on his head. “I can’t believe I forgot!”

Eddie’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by Mike asking something, but Mike is cut off by Richie rushing forward and kissing Eddie right on the mouth, hand on his cheek over the bandage.

Once Richie parts to breath, he pumps a fist in the air. Eddie’s eyes are far away and his head is slightly tilted, clearly also processing this information.

It’s Ben who speaks first. “Jesus, I can’t believe you guys forgot that you were in love.”

Eddie’s mouth is on Richie’s again in a second, and it feels like the first time. Eddie on his toes, Richie leaning down. Except this time their friends are here, and they’re soaking wet, and they killed that fucking clown for real.

“Eddie, light of my life, sunshine on my rainy day, how on earth are we so fucking stupid?” Richie is shouting this to the open air as he spins Eddie around. He doesn’t ever remember feeling this happy. Not since the first time they fought It, not since he last kissed Eddie 27 years ago.

The other Losers are quick to wrap their arms around the two of them, even as Eddie is laughing through the tears that are welling up in his eyes. He shoves good naturedly at Richie’s glasses.

“This would only happen to you two.” That’s Bev, from somewhere near Richie’s elbow.

“Please,” says Bill, who sounds like he’s pressed to Eddie’s back. “As if you and Ben didn’t just go through the same thing.”

God, Richie thinks. 27 fucking years. How had he never realized how sad and empty he had been? Without his best friends, without the love of his life. He woke up every morning feeling like he was about to go to a funeral, not some talk show or red carpet event.

They begin their walk back once again, and this time, Richie holds tightly onto Eddie’s hand.

“So, Eds,” Richie begins. Eddie looks over at him, eyebrows raised and suspicious, but eyes full of light and love. “For our wedding, I’m thinking butterweeds and forget-me-nots. Yay or nay?”

They have sunflowers, on their wedding day, because the sight of forget-me-nots makes Ben start crying, and if Ben starts crying, the rest of them do too.

It was a pointless effort, considering they all end up crying anyway.

The seven of them get a picture, decked out in their finest yellows, and Richie finds himself remembering the days after It, the first time. When they could hardly sleep without one of the others in the room, and Bill still stuttered, and there was that lingering sensation of this isn’t over yet.

Well, it’s over now. And they can finally carry on.

#shut up mary #my fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter one #it chapter two

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jjonesin4 · 5 years ago

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Songfic Writing Challenge

Day 30: A song that reminds you of yourself

Snakes on a Plane, Cobra Starship

I have spent more than a full day of my life watching Snakes on a Plane. I’d like to say I’m not proud, but that would be a lie.

The plane is fully booked and Jughead is glad that he listened to Betty and got there a little early to get settled before take off. He has the aisle seat, Sweet Pea called the window, and Fangs is sandwiched between them. He has the shortest legs and neither Jughead or Sweet Pea feel bad for their squished friend on their flight to LA to see Archie’s big show.

Betty has been in LA for a week already visiting with Archie and Veronica and Jughead can’t believe how much he misses her. He physically aches with longing. He should be embarrassed, but he gives zero fucks if anyone judges him for being completely gone for her.

In an effort to not think about all the ways Jughead wants to reunite with his smokeshow of a girlfriend in a little under 6 hours, he falls back on his hobby of people watching.

The guy three rows ahead of them brought a bag of hot, smelly, carry-out onto the very full plane. While Jughead is the biggest food lover, even he has the common courtesy to only bring non-smelly items on an airplane.

He’s not sure if stinky food guy is worse than the middle-aged woman one row ahead on the aisle that is currently taking off her socks so she can roam their shared space barefoot.

He then notices that the seat across the aisle is the only one still unoccupied and shakes his head thinking that the poor sap rushing to the gate won’t have any overhead storage options.

He wonders why the person is so late and what kind of person is traveling alone from New York to LA. Maybe a business person or a teenager visiting their family across the county.

Much to his dismay, the passenger is neither of those descriptions. Jughead has to remind himself to fix his face when he sees who is aggressively shuffling down the aisle towards the only empty seat.

The man recognizes Jughead, Fangs, and Sweet Pea immediately and a shit-eating grin graces his very punchable face.

“Will someone get these motherfuking snakes off this motherfucking plane!” Malachai sing-songs as he laughs at his own dated reference.

The universe has a perverse sense of humor. There are 524 seats and the only remaining seat is right across from him and now occupied by the world’s biggest jerkwad. Jughead curses the Jones luck, or absolute lack thereof.

He lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes his head at Fangs and Sweet Pea in an unspoken order to ignore him. They both give slight nods and go back to their magazines.

Jughead flashes Malachai a sarcastic smile as he takes his seat and hopes that will be the conclusion of their exchanges for the next 5 hours and 21 minutes.

The flight attendants give the safety demonstration now that everyone is seated. The final lines of their speech feel taunting.

Thank you for flying with us today. Enjoy your flight and welcome aboard!

Jughead highly doubts that he will enjoy it.

About an hour into the flight they hit some bumpy air and the Serpents notice that Malachi’s typical smarmy, cocky demeanor shifts into complete panic.

Sweet Pea can’t resist the temptation to poke fun at the much feared leader of the Ghoulie Gang.

“Afraid of a little turbulence, eh, Malachai,” Sweet Pea teases.

“You’re all just lucky this seatbelt sign is on, or else!” Malachi sneers at them.

Sweet Pea bends down to face Malachi and deadpans, “Oh, I’m ready for it,” with a heavy eye roll.

Fangs leans down so that his head is just higher than Sweet Pea and taunts, “Yeah, come on bring it,” with a scoff.

Jughead is still seated upright so Malachi can get a good look at all three Serpents fanned out like some poorly choreographed number from a community theater production of Grease.

Jughead shakes his head thinking that the rest of the passengers did not sign up for this level of nonsense.

“Calm your tits, Malachi,” Jughead says dismissively. “We’re all stuck on this flight for the next 4 hours and 13 minutes. Let’s just keep out of each other’s way.”

“How about you go fuck yourself, Jones. Nobody else would want to play with your little snake,” Malachi sniggers to himself as Jughead pinches between his eyebrows in exhaustion.

“Speaking of fucking, I don’t see that whore you call the Serpent Queen anywhere, she finally leave your sorry ass?” Malachi goads.

Jughead’s jaw clenches and Malachi notices that he hit a nerve.

“She did, didn’t she! Maybe that bitch isn’t so dumb. Can I get her number? Too bad she’s not here. I would happily initiate her into the mile high club,” Malachi says with a crooked grin.

All three leather-clad men’s bodies tighten in their small, blue seats. They look ready to fight.

Sweet Pea is internally lamenting checking his brass knuckles as he clenches his fists. Fangs is cracking his knuckles intimidatingly. Jughead is holding onto the armrests so tight his hands are white.

Quiet fury is radiating off of the passengers of row 13 A-C and Malachi is loving it.

“Uh oh, I can see the venom in your eyes, boys. Might want to get that looked at,” Malachi quips.

Jughead shakes his head and looks away. He quickly calculates a plan.

“Sweets, you still have that switchblade you somehow snuck through security?” Jughead whispers.

Sweet Pea’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning and responds quietly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about...but yes.”

“Give it to me,” Jughead orders.

Sweet Pea secretly passes it to Fangs who then places it in the pocket of Jughead’s jacket.

Jughead waits about 20 minutes and then gets up to go to the bathroom when a spot of turbulence shakes the plane. He falls on Malachai, but rights himself quickly before the man can turn combative.

Jughead straightens himself up and walks towards the bathroom, but stops to talk to a flight attendant on the way.

Jughead goes to the bathroom located at the front of the plane and walks out to spot Malachi in handcuffs in the back of the plane.

When he returns to his seat, Fangs and Sweet Pea greet him with impassive nods to not raise any suspicions, but Jughead knows that inside they are both as giddy as him.

He leans in so only Fangs and Sweet Pea can hear him and says with the confidence of a man upgraded to first class, “You two can never make fun of me again for studying the art of magic.”

“Roger that, boss, I can see now that your illusionist shit comes in handy,” Sweet Pea says with a shrug. Fangs gives him a mock pilot salute.

Jughead settles back into his seat, puts his headphones on, and cracks open the new mystery book Betty got him before she left on her trip. He thinks that he will enjoy his flight after all.

#songfic writing challenge 2019 #serpents on a plane #southside serpents #jughead jones #sweet pea #fangs fogarty #malachi #serpent!jug #betty cooper #archie andrews #veronica lodge #day 30 #a song that reminds you of yourself #snakes on a plane #cobra starship #challenge accepted #challenge completed #it took more than 30 days #but whatevs

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pokeprism · 4 years ago

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Altered End: Chapter 4 (The Perfect Plan)

This is the fourth chapter of my Undertale AU! The raw text is below the cut!

FIRST: Prologue --- PREVIOUS: Friendly Reminders --- NEXT: Rest And Release

Sans, Chara, and Frisk appear on the other side of Sans’s shortcut to Snowdin Town’s welcome sign. Chara looks around and gets a feeling of warmth just like any other time they’ve been there, then notices that Frisk and Sans are walking further into town and starting a conversation.

“Sans! I thought you were going to Judgement hall!” Frisk barks.

“Well we DID say that we were gonna visit Pap right?” Sans replies.

“We? What do you mean ‘we’?! You did all the talking!”

“Ehh, fair enough. But I know I don’t wanna disappoint him.”

By this moment, the townsfolk have noticed Sans talking to a complete stranger as if they were close friends, and begin to watch as the skeleton and human continue on. Chara has been keeping up with the duo without being noticed, as per usual for them at this point.

“Dangit Sans! That would have been so simple! Why can’t you make things easier for me?!” Frisk exclaims.

“Woah kiddo, calm down. Didn’t I just do that for you? Besides, it’s a short walk from here to Waterfall once we’re done having dinner.” Sans reasons.

Chara bluntly butts into the conversation with “Frisk, you know he just helped us all the way past the mostly bare parts of this zone.”. Frisk and Sans both focus their attention on Chara as they continue with “All you have to do is have enough patience to spend dinner with these two. That’s certainly simpler than doing battle with all of this zone’s monsters and working at those puzzles, right?”

Frisk groans. “Sure, sure, you’re right. I’ve sat through worse, and my goal can wait for now.”

Sans sighs in relief, thankful that he didn’t have to use anything more than words for this situation. By the next moment, they get to the skeleton brothers’ house, and Sans opens the door and steps aside for Frisk and Chara to come in. Frisk walks in like anyone else would, whereas Chara phases through the wall to the left of the door instead. Papyrus is almost done cooking his spaghetti when he hears the door close.

“Oh? Sans, that was fast! How did you do that?!” Papyrus asks.

“I keep tellin’ ya bro, I got shortcuts.” Sans answers.

“Oh. Alrighty.” Papyrus plainly says, then turns back to his spaghetti, turns off the oven burner, picks up the pot, and dumps it in the colander. He turns in Frisk’s direction as he says “My spaghetti is almost done, human!” then pauses. “Eh? There’s a hand on your shoulder Human. Is that normal?”

Frisk checks both of their shoulders, and sees Chara’s hand on their right shoulder, then looks at Chara, confused. Chara returns the look, then lifts their hand off of Frisk’s shoulder. Frisk then turns to Papyrus, words at the ready.

“No no, it’s totally normal.” Frisk says with sarcasm. “But uh, Papyrus, could you call me Frisk?”

“Huh? You knew my name? Is that another one of your powers?”

Frisk blankly stares at Papyrus for a moment.

“Erm, I can call you Frisk if you want me to! So I, the great Papyrus, shall do so!”

“Thank you Papyrus.”

“Anyways, I’m gonna go up to my room.” Sans says. He then looks to Chara and gestures for them to follow him. Chara catches on, and begins to drift in the direction of Sans’s room. Sans then begins to walk upstairs as he adds “See you two in a bit!”

Chara makes it to Sans’s room first, but then politely waits for Sans to open his room’s door before phasing through the wall anyway. Sans is startled by Chara’s seemingly sudden appearance in his room.

“Wha- huh?!”

“Oh!” Chara exclaims, “Sorry about that, I’m still getting used to the phasing through walls thing…”

Sans uses his magic to shut the door, then turns back to Chara. “So, I have several questions, if I may ask ‘em.”

“Oh sure! Ask away!”

“First off, what’s your name? It’s rather impolite to not properly introduce yourself, right?”

“Oh yeah, I’m not sure what people think of me nowadays, but I’m Chara Dreemurr.” Chara looks away as they add “I didn’t think you would have been able to hide your shock earlier if I said it.”

Sans pauses for a moment, then regains his bearing and says “Welp, you were right about that part. But anyways, do ya know how you became a lost soul?”

“I've been one for a while, but without being visible… I think me messing with Flowey’s menus made me visible to Frisk when we started back at the ruins.”

“Oh, so that flower has those too?”

“Had. Frisk seems like they don’t have any menus right now either, hence why they aren’t doing that hitting-an-invisible-and-floating-button thing when they are about to do something.”

“Huh. Anything else going differently?”

“Well, my check ability isn’t working right. I can only see the health bar and not any definite numbers for stats and stuff like that.”

“That’s odd. Anyways, what are Frisk’s thoughts on this? Do ya know?”

“Frisk has said they know what their goal is, and that they’d rather not dawdle.”

“That explains their temper from earlier.” Sans then pauses for a moment, then adds “Welp, that was the last of my questions. Have any questions for me kiddo?”

“Not any I can think of.” Chara then has a sudden realization. “Oh! Sans, can you come along with Frisk and I? You’d be really helpful!”

“Err, for what exactly? I may have my shortcuts, but I’m not sure if anything else would be too helpful.”

“Okay then. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Got it Chara. Should we go check on Paps and Frisk?”

“Oh yeah we should.”

Sans reopens his room’s door, and both he and Chara come out to see what’s happening with Frisk and Papyrus. Once Sans and Chara go down the stairs, and notice an empty plate on the table, as well as an absence of Frisk and Papyrus.

“Where did they go?” Chara asks.

Sans looks back upstairs, then turns back to Chara as he says “I think we walked past ‘em. Seems like they’re havin’ some platonic bonding time.”

“Oh fun. I’ll… Let them do that.”

Some time later, and in a different place in Snowdin, Flowey is getting annoyed. He’s set his trap in the stretch between Snowdin and Waterfall, and has been waiting there for almost the entire day. Flowey thought that Frisk would be coming by to advance to Waterfall, but they haven’t come by yet, and it’s now late at night. As a result of his impatience, Flowey thinks maybe if he catches Frisk while they are unprepared, he can snag their soul, and initiate his plan. Due to the current time and the fact that Frisk hasn’t shown up, Flowey gets an inkling of where that idiot might be. Flowey thinks that he might as well try to ambush Frisk, seeing as Frisk is most likely asleep. So Flowey begins to disassemble his trap and move toward Snowdin, all while looking for Frisk.

Back in the Skeleton’s house, Frisk is asleep on the couch due to the fact that there are no other beds in the skeletons’ possession. On the other hand, Chara has been unable to sleep thanks to seemingly no reason at all. They’ve been attempting to sleep on the floor just in front of the TV, about two tiles away from where Frisk is sleeping. Chara then notices an odd shape beyond their feet, and after a moment of Chara’s eyes adjusting to the darkness, Chara makes out the shape of Flowey just ahead of the front door. In a moment of panic, Chara unknowingly warps themself to Sans’s room just before panickedly (and mostly incoherently) yelling something to the effect of “FLOWEY’S HERE AND FRISK IS IN DANGER” Sans perks awake, and instinctively teleports himself just outside his door, instantly noticing the lot of vines in the house. Flowey is at the foot of the couch as he devilishly smiles to himself.

“Well well well…” Flowey softly says as his vines snake around Frisk, “Looks like you’re-”

Sans is quick on the draw with his blasters. Flowey instantly recognizes the sound of them, and disengages his vines before they can take any damage. In the same moment, Frisk hears the blasters go off and is unfamiliar with the sound, which makes Frisk snap into panic mode. Frisk gets up, bounds off the couch in the direction of the door (and in the process stepping on Flowey), and zips out the door after opening it. Chara floats back into the main room of the house as Flowey recovers from the blunt force of Frisk’s foot, then realizes where his prize went. Flowey quickly disappears into the floor as Sans and Chara share an OH CRAP moment.

Unlike their previous times through here, Frisk is running. From what? Flowey. He’s managed to get behind Frisk and has started after them with his vines engaged and pointed at Frisk. Thankfully for Frisk, they’ve pulled out the toy knife and are advancing faster than Flowey is. Flowey’s inability to catch Frisk for the time being is making his anger build, and he has decided that he absolutely can not, and should not let this idiot human get away. As Frisk continues to run, they can hear vines snaking on both sides of themself, but Frisk has learned from their previous encounter with flowey. Frisk quickly glances to their right and sees a vine coming for the arm, to which Frisk whirls and scores a hit, slicing the vine the moment before it would have gotten hold of them. Another vine attempts to trip Frisk by the ankle, but Frisk sees it coming and hops over it, so far taking no damage. By this moment, Frisk is almost to Waterfall with Flowey a couple strides behind them, and Flowey is at his limit. He summons a mess of pellets then initiates their attack run, and they streak like bullets before they all land around Frisk, completely missing them. As Flowey fumes with anger and comes to a stop, a line of Sans’s blasters quickly vaporizes Flowey’s base of vines, and Flowey’s now missing base makes him tumble in the air just before he cartoonishly hits the ground with a resounding thump. Frisk witnesses this and is frozen with awe, whereas Sans sees Flowey hit the floor, and summons a bone cage around the flower as he summons a blaster and lines it up with the cage’s one exit. Unprepared for the sudden followup attack, Flowey takes a blaster beam to the face, and surprisingly lives with a small percent of health remaining. As Flowey regains his senses, time slows to a crawl, and in this moment, Flowey only has one thing on this mind: staying alive. He had come to the realization that if he dies here, there’s no coming back thanks to the reset button’s nonexistence in this run. Against his desire to start his plan, Flowey disappears into the ground to flee from this battle and recover. Now that the flower is gone, the tension of the battle ebbs from the area, which leads Chara and Sans to look to Frisk, who is standing just beyond where the snow ends in this tract of land. Sans sighs in relief, then begins to walk toward Frisk. Chara begins to drift in the same direction shortly after Sans, but is going slightly faster. Frisk, relieved and with a tired gaze, just watches their approach. Chara gets to Frisk first on account of their faster approach.

“What the heck were you thinking, Frisk?!” Chara loudly asks.

“Well… I thought running would have worked?” Frisk admits.

Chara looks squarely at Frisk and says “You know what Flowey wants to do with your soul by now, right?”

“Yeah yeah, I do. I just thought…”

“Woah hey kiddos.” Sans says as he gets next to both Frisk and Chara. “No one got hurt. Everything’s chill. Can’t ya both be happy you survived tonight?”

Chara and Frisk exchange looks for a moment. On one hand, Chara realizes their mistake of scolding Frisk, whereas Frisk notes that they could have fallen at the hands (and or vines) of that psychotic flower.

“I’m sorry Frisk. I’m relieved we both got through tonight…” Chara admits.

Frisk nods in response.

“Anyways, you two look like you need some sleep.” Sans says, then quickly adds “Want a shortcut back to my place?”

Frisk tiredly nods in Sans’s direction, as does Chara.

“Welp, time to go back then. Come on kiddos.”

Sans begins to walk off, to which Chara and Frisk follow. And like that, they are back at the skelebros’ house. Chara sleepily phases through the door shortly before Frisk opens it and walks through, with sans close behind. All three of them get back to where they were before Flowey’s failed ambush, and softly drift off to sleep.

#Jamie W. (Pokeprism)#altered end #chapter 4 #undertale au #undertale #the perfect plan #7/9/2020

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