#he is thirty two. he should be able to tell when he stinks and figure out a solution

[six-of-ravens]

today has been VERY ANNOYING!!

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test. 

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react. 

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus��� voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 6: “Te quiero”

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Having her back in his arms, Javier needs to figure out what happened and more importantly what to do next.

Warnings: swearing, medical check-ups, angst, mentions of abusive household/parent, mentions of injury

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Next chapter

“¿Qué paso?”, he repeated, dashing his way over to you.

You opened your mouth but the only thing you managed to choke out was a loud sob. Protesting, aching muscles as you launched yourself into his arms, knees buckling as he grabbed a hold of you, entire body shaking with pent-up fear and emotion. He clung onto you, slowly sliding down the door to sit on the floor, keeping you pressed against his chest. Your cries sounded almost like screams, the intensity of it all causing Javier’s heart to go in a frenzy of trepidation and alarm. He’d never seen you like this, he knew what you were like when you were shaken or anxious, and this was anything but that. You were fucking hysterical, the way you ripped at the fabric of his shit not lost on him.

He stared straight ahead of him as he just held you, not bothering to say anything or try to touch you. It was best to let it all out now and God-fucking-damn was he happy he was here. When you hadn’t called him even once today, he grew a little worried, though not enough to do anything about it. It wasn’t until he’d talked to Steve about it, who revealed what had previously gone down in your childhood home, that he grew worried. By the time he’d gotten home from work, which was rather late, you still hadn’t called him. It was then Javier decided to call the hotel and after some light blackmailing the receptionist informed him that you’d left a couple hours ago. He’d fucking ran out of his apartment, not bothering to even tempt the hell that was evening traffic as he just sprinted through the familiar streets. By the time he was in front of your door, out of breath and soaked in sweat, it was about half past eleven. He knew there was a late flight and that you could be coming home any minute, so he decided to call Connie and Steve, informing them about what he’d discovered. They’d promised to call him if you showed up at their door, but just as he hung up the phone, disappearing in the bathroom to wash the sweat off of his face, he’d heard you come in.

 The poor man’s heart had crumbled at the sight. You were hunched over, eyes completely void of their usual light and joy, shirt torn and stretched out jeans not looking any better. Whether you’d been snatched by your father or a sicario was unclear to him – hell what happened was a complete fucking mystery. As your wailing diminished in volume and intensity, he carefully started scanning your face, scolding himself for not just being able to read you.

A black eye had begun to form, bottom lip busted and you had some smaller scratches scattered across the rest of your face. Your nose seemed to be somewhat askew as well, though that might’ve just been the lighting or even his paranoia. It was hard for him to be calm, anger and frustration fighting his self-discipline for the upper hand. But he wouldn’t allow it, you needed him to be there, you needed your Javi, not the vengeful, bloodthirsty agent. So he closed his eyes, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your head as he counted to ten, taking a set of essential, deep breaths.

When the sobbing died down to sniffles and silent tears he slowly started to move, standing up with you in his arms. You were limp in his arms even though you were fully conscious and aware of your surroundings. He laid you down in the bed, slowly unlacing your tennis shoes as you looked up at the ceiling. You were usually very talkative so your lack of babbling was incredibly unsettling to Javier.

“I’m gonna take these clothes off, okay?”, he softly announced, searching you for any sign of protest.

He slowly got you out of your ripped jeans, shirt and underwear, only leaving the room to throw them into your laundry bin. While he was in the bathroom he wet a washcloth and grabbed a towel to help you wash up. As he sat back down next to you, he put a hand on your knee, to let you know that he was right there with you.

“Stop me if it hurts too much”, he whispered as he started dragging the cloth over your face.

You were still looking up at the ceiling, hands fisted in the sheets. Painfully aware of every sore spot as Javier carefully cleansed your skin. A hand found its way to your abdomen, slowly resting on the warm skin there, preventing him from touching you there.

He understood the message and left it alone, finishing up on your legs before chasing the wet skin with the soft towel. The chances of you speaking up about it tonight were low to non-existent, even he could figure that out for himself. So he decided to just help you into a fresh pair of underwear and a t-shirt, sliding the covers over your still form when he finished.

“I’ll be right with you baby, I’m just gonna give Murphy a call”, he promised, sat on his knees beside the bed. “If you need anything, just shout.”

When he left the bedroom he felt like screaming. He was fucking angry, enraged, livid. Who in their right mind would hurt his girl.. he wanted – needed answers. That’s when he dialled his best mate’s number, no matter the hour, he needed to figure this shit out, right this instant.

A groan was heard from the other side of the line, followed by some shuffling. “Murphy.”

“She’s in bed, battered and bruised”, Javi stated, voice completely monotone.

“Shit – do you need me to come over?”, Steve replied, sounding more awake already.

Javier rested a hand against his forehead. “I need some of my stuff, I’m staying with her but I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I got that spare key around here somewhere. Fucking hell Peña… did she say anything?”

He sighed into the horn, feeling completely drained of any energy. “Not a single word, she was hysteric.”

“And the baby?”, he asked, tone changing.

“I-I don’t know.. didn’t really see any bruising but I don’t know.”

There was some more shuffling on the other end, the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

Hanging the phone back on the wall, he leaned over to glance into the room. You were still there, facing the door, eyes closed. He came back into the room, trying his best not to make any noise. As he got closer he could tell you were asleep, hands clutching onto the pillow next to yours, the one he slept on. He heaved another sigh, not entirely sure what to do now. He didn’t want to lay down next to you, reeking of sweat and knowing Murphy would be here soon. So he headed back into the other room, making his way over to the kitchen. Fuck he wanted a smoke, you probably had a pack around here somewhere. He started a frantic search, the urge to soothe the tension and panic growing stronger every passing moment. And there it was, a half empty pack of neatly rolled cigarettes, stowed away behind an empty cookie jar. He pulled the lighter from his back pocket, hands shaking with anticipation. The first drag felt like pure elation, so much so that he moaned at the sensation, his free hand tangling in his matted hair.

“Fuck baby, you’re breaking my heart”, he muttered with his eyes closed, bud pursed in-between his lips.

As soon as the smoke started curling towards the bedroom he stepped away from it, opening the windows in the living room. He smoked two more cigarettes and got your bag up off the floor before Steve arrived. The familiar knock making Javier jolt out of his slumber-like state. He opened the door, an overnight bag immediately pushed into his hands.

“She in there?”, Steve asked, already making too much noise for his liking.

“Yeah”, he put the duffel bag on the couch, “but keep it down.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his moustache, glancing into the room from where he stood. “Hysteric you said?”

“She was fucking weeping man”, he spat, lighting a fourth cigarette.

“Her dad?”, his friend asked, helping himself to a cig as well.

Javier let his head drop as he took a deep breath. “I don’t know, she’s been dead silent. Has he done this before? Is there a case against him in the States?”

“Not that I know of.. her mother just sorta made her promise never to get authorities involved, saying he’s still her dad and shit.”

“Bull fucking shit, a father doesn’t throw hands like that. You should’ve seen the state of her, jeans ripped to shreds, lip fucking busted open.. fucking repulsive.”

Steve put a hand on his shoulder, quirking an eyebrow towards the bedroom. “Watch the voice Javi, let’s just go outside.”

He shook his head, extinguishing the cigarette in the sink. “I wanna be here if she wakes up.”

“I understand, let’s just sit down, you need to settle down”, the blonde offered. “Let’s just have a beer and talk things through, yeah?”

The two men sat on the couch and shared a couple of drinks, talking everything over. When you were ready to talk they’d listen to you and if you’d be willing to file a case, then they’d fucking handle it for you. Steve had brought up the baby again, suggesting Javier take you to a hospital and get your injuries noted down. Javier had confided in Steve about how scared he’d been, frantic upon hearing you’d left the hotel. He’d listened to him, reassuring him you were a strong and smart woman and that you’d tell him if something was wrong. Furthermore Steve had promised to handle things at the embassy the next day, ensuring your boyfriend could stay with you all day. Javier had gratefully agreed, not wanting to so much as set a foot out of your apartment until you’d tell him you were okay.

“I should head back for the night, Con doesn’t like sleeping alone.”

He followed him to the door, clapping him on the back as he reached for the door handle. “Thanks, Steve, I appreciate it.”

“Just do us all a favour and take a shower, you fucking stink”, Steve teased, shaking his partner’s hand. With that he left the small apartment.

“Pendejo.”

But he was right. The bathroom sink and a hand-towel would have to do for now, the shower way too noisy at this hour. He slipped into a fresh pair of briefs, putting some cologne on before joining you in the bed. Your hand was still on his pillow, so he carefully pried it off, holding it in his as he scooted closer towards you.

 When you came to a couple hours later, all you could smell was him, your face nestled in the crook of his neck, a warm palm resting on your neck. By the light pouring in from the windows you could tell it was morning, but you felt completely exhausted still. As your brain slowly woke up as well you felt the way your body started quivering again. The man beneath you groaned lowly, nudging his chin against the top of your head as he changed positions. The more you focused on trying to make the trembling stop the worse it got, to a point where you just started crying out of frustration. Javier was quick to notice, rolling over onto his side, covering your body with his, ready to shield you from any harm. When he noticed what was going on he just laid back down, pulling you on top of him and securing you in a loving, comforting hold.

“S’okay, I gotchu, nothing’s gonna hurt you here”, he murmured into your hair.

The shaking got less and less severe the longer he held you, lips pressed to your forehead. You felt like you could finally breathe again, as if the heaviness within your chest had finally lifted, so that’s what you did. Javier’s ears perked out as he heard the shuddering breath.

“Need some fresh air?”

You looked up at him, eyes meeting his for the first time in ages. It took your breath away, suddenly very aware of your surroundings and what had occurred last night. The words left your lips before you could even comprehend it: “I love you.”

His eyes went wide with shock. “W-what?” It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard you, he just didn’t understand it. Well, he understood the semantic meaning of the phrase but he didn’t understand why you said it.. to him.. like now or at all. “Wait- shit, are you sure?”

It was your turn to just stare at him, not comprehending the situation yourself. “Huh?”

“I’m gonna kiss you, yeah?”

You closed your eyes, letting his lips slowly hit the space above your upper lip, strategically avoiding the injured one.

“Did you hit your head or something”, he softly joked, thumb tracing the outline of your cheek.

The tiniest smile formed on your lips, fingers lacing with his. “Thank you for being here.”

“Are you feeling up to eat something?”

You just nodded, not finding the energy to do much more. He got out of the bed, walking over to your side to help you stand. You braced your hands on his chest, forehead resting on his sternum. It wasn’t that you needed the support, you’d be fine walking on your own, you just wanted to be close to him a little longer.

“I-I’m scared”, you blurted out.

“Hmm?”, he questioned, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes.

“The baby- I-I haven’t felt… pregnant.. What if-“

He put a finger over your lips, encouraging you to stop talking. “We’ll go see a doctor after you’ve eaten something, I promise.”

You let out a shaky breath before cupping his jaw, giving him a half smile before walking out of your bedroom. The fact that he was here was beyond your comprehension. This was all you ever wanted and yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be happy about it, the gnawing feeling of knowing the baby might not be okay eating away at you.

 After the two of you had eaten a small breakfast he drove you to the clinic as promised, his hand laced with yours the entire ride. He didn’t ask questions, instead respected your silence and didn’t push on it. His aviators rested on your nose, preventing the early sun from blinding you as you drove through the bustling streets of Bogotá.

“You want me to come with you?”, he asked, eyes squinted at the bright sunrays.

“Uh yeah, if you don’t mind..”, you shyly answered, raising a hand towards the window to provide some shade.

He pulled on the handbrake, turning his head to look at you. “I’ll only be there if you want me there, corazon.”

 The hospital was rather calm, aside from some emergency patients being rolled in. Javier had flashed them the good ole’ DEA badge, making you somewhat of a priority patient. He insisted you get some scans and x-rays done first, wanting to make sure none of the bruising and swelling was anything serious. Afterwards the two of you were put into a waiting room together, him with a coffee in his hands and you with your head on his shoulder, resting your eyes just a little while longer.

“Peña”, someone announced. Javi gave a nod, and the two of you followed a man into yet another room. “I hear baby needs a check-up too?”

“Uh yeah, we’re just a little worried”, he told the doctor, a protective hand on the small of your back.

The doctor gestured for you to take a seat in the medical chair, wheeling a cart carrying various equipment closer to it. “Well let’s have a quick look then. You can take a seat next to your wife.”

Javi sat down in the chair next to yours, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as the doctor lifted your shirt. The gel was absolutely freezing, making you huff out an awkward chuckle. The applicator slid over your skin, the doctor trying to locate your baby as you looked over at Javier, who seemed to be entranced by it all. His brows were furrowed as he closely watched the doctor’s every movement, ready to step in if needed.

“There we go”, you both looked up at the screen, “baby looks good so far.”

“N-no complications?”, you squeaked out.

The doctor smiled at the two of you, flipping a switch on the cart to let the two of you hear a thumping sound. “Heartbeat is perfectly normal as well.”

You covered your eyes, letting out a sob as you listened to the rhythmic pulse. Javier was right there with you, eyes glossy with unshed tears. There was something so strange about it all, the stress and tension of the previous weeks suddenly just disappearing. It was peaceful, a moment nobody could intrude on or steal away. That was his baby right there, on that small screen. This was it, his everything, the woman he loved and the baby he never knew he wanted- needed. The doctor had stepped out, muttering something about giving you some time alone.

“I-I love you”, Javier expressed, bringing your free hand up to his lips and he’d never meant it more.

You dragged him down to you, crashing your sore lips on his. When you broke apart you wiped one of your tears off his face, slowly chuckling to yourself. “Te quiero Javi.”

 After your ultrasound finished up you got your results and when you were told there was nothing to worry about, the two of you set out on your way back to your apartment. Along the way you’d discussed filing for a restraining order and Javier had swerved the car back around, heading straight for the embassy.

“I-I don’t know if I should go inside”, you protested, suddenly feeling very nervous and self-aware.

“You’ll be fine, amor, it’s lunchtime anyway”, he assured you, pulling the keys from the engine.

You trailed behind him, clutching onto his hand as you walked into the building, looking down at the floor to avoid any and all stares. He swiftly pulled you into your shared office, where Steve sat in his chair, feet propped onto his desk. He promptly extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray on his desk, standing up to walk over to the two of you.

“I’m gonna start a case”, you announced, engulfing your friend in a lingering hug.

He patted your back, closing his eyes as he squeezed you a bit tighter. “I’m so proud of you, girly. We’ll get through this.”

The guys helped you set up your defence, Javi eventually taking one of the polaroid cameras to capture the evidence. He had you strip down to your undergarments, fixing the lighting to make sure the bruises and scratches were plenty visible. When he’d gathered images of your body be eventually got started on photographing your face, tilting your chin and adjusting his angles every so often. Steve had walked in, when you were once again fully dressed, staring into the lens.

“I take it baby’s good then?”, he asked, examining some of the developed polaroids.

“Yeah, don’t need to go back for another four weeks”, you’d replied, not wanting to overshare in the moment.

“This a maternity shoot or what?”, he joked, noticing the effort his colleague was putting in.

Javier put the camera down, ignoring Steve’s joke as he neatly stowed the images away in a brown envelope. “Let’s get some statements and then we can send this shit in.”

“Are you sure you want to be here for this?”, Steve asked so only him and Javi could hear.

“I need to know what that scumbag did to her.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head: “This is about her, yeah? So keep your cool.”

He hit his partner on the head with the envelope. “I’ll go get the tape-recorder.”

You told the story just as it happened, sparing them no details. The urge to just get up and leave was there, but you wanted this all to done and dealt with. So you bit your tongue, answering Murphy’s questions one by one, taking five minute breaks after the really tough ones. By the end of it you were just about ready to get the fuck out of there.

“You got a good lawyer back home, in case he takes it to court?”

You looked up at Steve, lips pursed into a thin line as you impatiently tapped your fingertips against the table. “I’ve got some ideas, yeah. But if we’re done I’d really like to go home, I’m fucking bushed.”

He got up off his chair, stowing your signature and tape into the envelope containing the pictures. “’Course, you coming in on Monday then or?”

“Well I technically still have another week off, but I’ll see, I’ll give Con a call.”

“C’mon let’s go”, Javier intercepted, a hand on your upper back.

Once out of earshot you leaned into his side, whispering: “What was that about?”

“I want you all to myself tonight, amor, tonight is all about you.”

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (3)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x  reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 4.3k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates​ @staytrillswag​ @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Jihyo’s head suddenly pops up over her computer screen, voice barely above a whisper as she sneaks a few looks around the office. The atmosphere is tenser than normal today, and it seems like your co-workers are almost afraid to breathe every time your boss storms through the open office.

You think you overheard someone talking about a few computers being hacked into from inside the company, but you’re not sure. Either way, you figure it’s a good idea to stay on the low and out of your boss' way as much as possible, unless you want to get chewed up and spit out for literally just existing.

You give Jihyo a thumbs up, eyes glued to your screen just in case someone is watching. The thought of having a girl’s night with Jihyo and Sana definitely brightens your mood enough to make it through until lunch. You already have a few movies picked out that you’ve been meaning to watch for ages, and you can’t wait to just relax and spend some time with your friend and her hybrid.

You and Jihyo both decide to eat lunch outside, braving the cold autumn winds to escape the stifling mood of the office. You find a little coffee shop that isn’t too far away, giving you decent time to eat and talk before you need to head back.

“So, how’s your little black menace doing?” Jihyo asks with a small laugh as she places a few pastries on her plate. You shrug, reacting out for a stuffed croissant. Your sore back definitely seems to point to your kitty warming up to you, considering you ended up sleeping on the couch all night with him curled up on top of your stomach. But then again, he scurried off underneath the couch with a low grumble as soon as you woke up, so you feel like it’s hard to say. You’ve never met a cat before that’s so hot and cold.

“I don’t know,” You admit, moving behind Jihyo in line to pay for your food.

“He seems to tolerate me one second and then hate me the next .. It’s hard to say,” You frown.

“Y/N ..” Jihyo pauses, her shoulders tensing before she continues, “Maybe you should consider giving him back to the shelter? Not to be mean, but you look horrible. You seem sadder than you were before you even got a cat, and news flash, you’re supposed to feel happier - not miserable,” Jihyo throws you a look over her shoulder as she moves to pay, concerned eyes briefly locking onto yours.

You feel the clump in your stomach grow, the anxious feeling you haven’t been able to shake off completely since you brought your cat home becoming bigger. Maybe you aren’t the right home for him. Maybe Jihyo is right ..

“I guess,” You mutter as Jihyo steps aside to let you pay. You can almost feel the soft fur against your fingers as you pick up your plate, uncertainty gnawing away at your thoughts as you both find a table to share.

“But I still need to try a little longer. I’m sure he’s had a rough time before he came to the shelter, stuff like that isn’t cured over night,” You reason, the tension in your body loosing up just a tad. You will take him back to the shelter if it doesn’t get better between you two, but you need to at least try first.

“A month then,” Jihyo proposes.

“If things haven’t improved between you in a month, then you take him back to the shelter. I hate seeing you so down,” She pouts, hand reaching out to squeeze yours before she starts eating her lunch.

You take a bite of your own pastry, mulling the idea over in your head as you eat. A month seems reasonable. It’ll give your cat time to settle down a little, and if he’s still so afraid that he hides from you after all those weeks, then it’s probably for the best to bring him back.

“Alright, deal. One month,” You give Jihyo a nod, your mind already racing to come up with plans of how to make your cat feel more at home.  

.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the workday is just as stiff as the first half.

“I never thought this day would end,” You groan as you and Jihyo step outside, your shoulders aching from how tense you’ve been all day.

“Tell me about it,” Jihyo huffs. Her face lights up as she spots the waiting car, probably eager to get inside and remove those god awful heels the company forces you to wear as part of your unofficial uniform.

“I’ll head off now. Text me what kind of snacks you want me to bring, okay?” Jihyo flashes you a bright smile and a wave before she’s off, climbing into the passenger seat of the car as fast as she can manage.

“I’ll be at your place at seven!” Jihyo yells out of the window as the car takes off, leaving you behind in whirlwind of dust and fallen leaves. You sigh as you turn, beginning your journey home. Your apartment is around a thirty-minute walk from work if you’re wearing good shoes, but with these heels it's probably closer to forty-five.

You would normally take the bus, but since you need to stop by a mart and get groceries, it’s honestly better to just sacrifice your feet and take a more direct route home. Thankfully the mart isn’t too busy when you get there, and you quickly find all the things you need for the dinner tonight, as well as some food to get you through the rest of the weekend.

You pause as you pass by the chicken section; hand reaching out for the chicken breasts your cat enjoyed so much before you even realize what you’re doing.

“He’ll probably be angry at me after tonight,” You reason, and food seems like the best bribery for a cat that doesn’t like to be pet.

Your arms are shaking by the time you’ve made it up the stairs to your apartment, shirt clinging uncomfortably to your back from the light sweat you’ve managed to work up.

You quickly unlock your door and step inside, bags falling to the ground with a heavy thump as you turn around. The first thing you see in the dark hallway is golden eyes staring straight at you, the black fur almost blending into the shadows. You let out a startled squeak, hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“I know I’m late kitty, I’m sorry,” You say after taking a deep breath, a small smile on your face as you try to convey just how bad you feel for delaying his dinner. You see him give a small flick of his tail, the only indicator that he’s actually listening to you as you reach down to bring your bags to the kitchen.

You don't hear him follow you, but you can feel those golden eyes tracking you as you move around the kitchen putting your groceries away. You throw a quick glance at the clock hanging over your stove as you shove the rest of the food inside the fridge.

“Shit!” You only have half an hour until your guests arrive, and you desperately need a quick shower before you do anything else. You rush towards your bathroom, just narrowly missing bumping into your cat that’s peaking at you around the corner. He hisses at the close proximity, and you let a string of sorry’s hang in the air behind you as you hurry inside, wrestling with the buttons on your shirt as you go.

You’re practically out of breath as you wrap a towel around your damp body, holding it in place as you scurry to your bedroom to find some clothes to wear. You don’t remember leaving your door open before you left for work, but you probably just didn’t close it properly. You pay it no mind as you quickly grab some fresh underwear and sweats from your closet, it’s not that big of a deal anyway.

You slip your underwear on under your towel, throwing the pants behind you on to the bed as your search for your favourite hoodie. You frown as you rummage through your clothes, hoodie nowhere in sight. You’re sure you washed it a few days ago, so it doesn’t make sense that it’s just gone. You huff, settling for throwing on a cosy sweater instead. Your hoodie search will have to be resumed later.

You can see a black ball of fur out of the corner of your eye as you tug on your pants, your cat having moved to scowl at you from the hallway, golden eyes narrowed as they watch you get dressed.

“I promise I’m making your food now kitty,” Your cat glares at you before he turns around and leaves, the motion a little weird and eerily inhuman. You could’ve sworn it almost rolled its eyes at you .. But you don’t have time to think about it, the encounter already being pushed into the back of your mind as you hurry to start making dinner.

You get the chicken ready first, setting some aside to cool as you add the rest to the dish you’re making. Jihyo sent you a recipe that apparently Sana loves, and since you figure you’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other from now on, you really want to make your friend’s hybrid like you.

“Kitty?” You call out as you place in the dish in the oven. You hear a soft disgruntled meow coming from the living room, and it’s not that hard to guess where he might be hiding. You only have a few minutes until your guests arrive, but it should be enough time for your cat to finish eating.

You bring the plate out into the living room, placing it down a little further away from the couch than you did last time. There’s a few seconds where nothing happens, the apartment quiet aside from the soft noise outside of your window.

You hear another annoyed meow before your cat emerges, and he practically gives you the cat equivalent of the stink eye as he crouches down to eat. He must’ve realized that you’re trying to coax him out from under the couch, and it seems like he isn’t too happy about it.

You busy yourself with straightening out the pillows on the couch as he eats, trying to make your small living room look a little less cramped and more put together.

“Kitty, you need to be on your best behaviour tonight,” You see a fluffy ear swivel your way as you speak.

“My friend Jihyo and her hybrid are coming over, so please don’t hiss at them, okay? Jihyo seems to dislike you enough already, and I’m sure she’ll force me to give you up if she thinks you’re dangerous,” You grimace as you fluff out the last pillow, missing how your cat’s head snaps up to look at you with wide eyes just as the door bell rings.

“Please behave kitty,” You murmur softly as you pick up the empty plate from the floor, your cat scurrying back under the couch as you drop the plate off in the kitchen. You really hope he won’t react too badly to Sana considering she’s a dog hybrid, but as long as she appears in her human form you’re sure your cat won’t mind it too much.

But of course you should’ve known that was too much to ask for.

As soon as you open the door, a fluffy white ball of fur flies through the opening, Jihyo stumbling in behind it. The little Pomeranian takes off down the hallway, feet clicking against the hardwood floor as she runs through your apartment.

“Sana!” Jihyo calls out, bags of snacks stuffed under her arms as she hurries in after her. You quickly lock the door and follow them, a bad feeling settling in your stomach as the apartment grows too quiet again. You freeze beside Jihyo as you reach the living room, eyes widening in horror as you see Sana and your cat growling at each other near the couch.

Your cat is seemingly furious, black fur standing on edge and teeth barred to mimic the look on Sana’s face. The low hiss rumbling in his chest seem to grow louder and louder, and you see Sana’s posture turning more and more rigid the longer they keep eye contact. They seem to be squaring up to fight, and you have absolutely no intention on letting that happen.

“Jihyo!” You hiss, elbowing her in the side. “Do something about Sana!”

“I don’t know what to do! She’s never been like this before!” She hisses back, not daring to tear her eyes away from the increasingly more agitated animals.

“I’ll grab her,” You say, the dog hybrid too busy growling to notice what you’re saying. Jihyo nods, a nervous expression on her face as you take a step closer. Sana doesn’t see you, but your cat does, and that brief second his eyes flicker to you seems to be enough of an opening for Sana to attack.

You lurch forward, barely managing to scoop Sana up before she has the chance to snap after your cat. You can tell your cat isn’t ready to give up the fight, its golden eyes narrowing in on you and the squirming dog in your arms.

“No kitty!” You give him a glare, but it’s like he isn’t seeing you at all, just the white fluff that seems to be threating his territory. You quickly pass Sana on to Jihyo; bags of snacks falling to the floor as she hurriedly brings her hybrid into your room to separate them. At the sound of the door clicking shut, your cat visibly relaxes, eyes finally seeing you instead of burning right through.

“Kitty,” You warn, voice stern and your hands on your hips as you stare down at him. Your cat holds your stare for a short while before it almost sounds like he huffs in annoyance. He ignores your attempt at a scolding, and instead chooses to lick his paw and clean his face while you watch in disbelief.

“Fine. Why am I even trying, you’re just a cat,” You tut. You feel a little silly, especially since you’re trying to scold an animal that doesn’t even understand what you’re saying.

“Y/N?” Jihyo’s voice calls out to you from behind the closed door. “Can we come out? Sana’s shifted.”

“Yeah, come on out,” As soon as the words leave your lips, the door flies open. You barely get a glimpse of Sana before she crashes into your arms, arms wound around your body so tightly it almost hurts to breathe.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be a bad dog,” Sana buries her face in your chest, tears staining your sweater as she trembles. Jihyo sends you a sad look over her shoulder, a little pout on her lips that seems to be begging you to forgive her. You manage to free your arms enough to wrap them around her, awkwardly patting her back as she cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” You say, but that only seems to make Sana cry harder.

“You’re so nice! And I’m such a bad dog, I’m so sorry!”

“Sana ..” Jihyo tries, but her voice only makes Sana cling harder to you.

“I just wanted to protect you! I smelled him inside and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Sana pulls back enough to look up at you with her big glossy puppy eyes, fluffy ears glued down against her light hair.

“It’s okay, he’s just a kitty Sana, he won’t hurt me,” You smile, reaching up to pat her head affectionately.

“No! He’s not! He’s–” A loud hiss suddenly interrupts Sana, the sound scaring her enough to make her run back to Jihyo. She cowers behind her back, cheek pressed against Jihyo's shoulder as she refuses to look at your cat.

You’re about to scold him again for scaring her, but the words get caught in your throat as you feel something brush against your legs. You look down in shock to find your cat rubbing himself against your sweats, tail curling around your leg as he moves around.

“Uhm, does he normally do that?” Jihyo raises an eyebrow, the conversation you two had earlier in the day fresh in her mind.

“No?” You look at her with wide eyes as your cat raises its back, eyes blinking up at you. Does it want you to .. You slowly reach down with your hand, hesitating before your fingers can brush against the black fur.

Your cat doesn’t seem to mind your hand coming closer, but you still hold your breath as your fingers finally touches the silky fur, running a few fingers along his spine in a quick pat. Your cat freezes at the contact, body locking up underneath your fingertips as they run along his back.

“Sorry kitty,” You snatch your hand away, stepping back to give your cat some space. Sana is still hiding behind a dumbfound Jihyo, and you feel terrible that your evening started out in the way that it did.

“Let’s grab some dinner, it should be done by now! I made your favourite,” You smile kindly at Sana as her eyes hesitantly meet yours.

“Really?” You can see her tail wagging slowly back and forth, a small smile spreading across her lips at the thought of food.

“Yeah, let’s eat in the kitchen,” You laugh as Sana starts pushing Jihyo sideways in the direction of the kitchen, using her owner as a shield against your cat the whole way. Thankfully your cat stays in the living room during dinner, but you can see Sana’s apprehension returning the moment you suggest watching a movie. However as you walk into the living room, he’s nowhere to be found. You even sneak a quick peak under the couch, and there’s no kitty hiding there either.

You shrug, quickly getting the snacks the girls brought ready, and putting on the movie all of you decided you want to watch. You and Jihyo have taken over the small couch while Sana has curled up in the chair next to it.

“Sana?” You call out, “You know there’s room on the couch if you want to sit here?” You see her ears perk up, tail wagging as she looks at Jihyo for permission.

“Can I?” She asks, eyes bright at the thought of being allowed to snuggle up to the both of you.

You hear a dull thud from your bedroom, your cat quickly shimmying out between the crack in the door. So that’s where he was, you think.

He bolts over to the couch before Jihyo can even open her mouth, quickly jumping up into your lap and making himself at home. Your hands are frozen by your side, mouth hanging open in surprise as you watch him lie down and start kneading your shirt.

“Kitty?” You ask, but the only response you get is an ear twitching in your direction. You can tell that your cat’s eyes are trained on Sana, golden eyes barely blinking as his claws dig deeper into the fabric of your sweater. Maybe he understands a little more than you first thought.

“Kitty?” Jihyo snaps your attention to her, a questioning look on her face. “You haven’t named him yet?”

You shrug, lowering a hand to gently scratch across your cat’s head. This time he doesn’t freeze up, and your smile grows a little goofy as you feel him snuggle closer to your hand.

“No? I don’t know, none of the names I’ve thought of seems to fit him.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s gonna tell you himself,” Jihyo snorts, reaching out for the popcorn that’s placed on the table in front of you.

“I guess not,” You giggle, amused by how pliant your cat has gone in your hands. You’re practically supporting his head in your hand, and it’s obvious that he’s enjoying the petting by the low slightly broken attempts at purring your hear coming from his chest. But he’s still refusing to look away from Sana, eyes never closing fully despite how sleepy he seems.

“Yeah .. That would be weird,” Sana gives you both an uncomfortable chuckle, eyes flickering between your cat and the TV. You spend most of the movie mesmerized at the black fur beneath your fingertips, eyes hardly straying from the cat in your lap. He seems much nicer and softer like this, and you can hardly believe that it’s the same cat that attacked your arm just a week ago.

As the movie goes on, you often find yourself chiming in a beat too late when the two other laugh, earning you a few weird looks and eye rolls. But how can they fault you for not paying attention when you’ve got a lap full of a black fluffycuddly cat? It would be a crime to not pay attention to him.

The movie slowly comes to an end, the snacks on the table half eaten, and Sana’s ears drooping down sleepily. You’re about to suggest putting on another one, feeling a little bad that you basically ignored the whole movie aspect of a movienight, but Jihyo waves you off before you can even speak.

“We’ve all had a rough day, maybe it’s better to call it a night?” She reaches over to run her fingers through Sana’s hair, a tender smile on her lips that makes something ache inside your chest.

“Sure,” Come to think of it, you are pretty tired yourself. Work was stressful and almost having your kitty and Sana fight definitely didn’t lessen the tension you’ve been feeling in your body all day either. You gently ease your cat off your lap, but despite its sleepy protests it quickly settles down on the couch as it realizes that your guests are leaving.

“I had a nice evening despite .. the little hiccup at the beginning,” You smile, reaching up to ruffle Sana’s hair. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as she suddenly scoops you up in another hug. She rubs her face against your neck as you pat her head, the dog hybrid really being too cute for her own good.

“Please be careful okay? You don’t know– I-I don’t trust him,” Sana shoots a glare in the direction of the living room, and your building amusement at her distain for your cat dies down as you see the seriousness in her eyes.

“Of course,” You give her hand a squeeze, the tone of her voice making something weird tug in your stomach.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” You give Jihyo a quick hug before you wave them off, a sigh leaving your lips as you lock the door behind you. Sana’s expression keeps floating around in your head, and you can’t seem to shake it no matter how hard you try.

You pause as you enter the living room, your cat blinking sleepily at you from the couch. You don’t really see how he can do anything bad aside from being moody and a little mean, but Sana does have actual animal genes and you don’t. You’re just not sure if hers are extra sceptical because she’s a dog and your cat is well, a cat.

“Night kitty,” You murmur as you turn off the lights, leaving the clean up for tomorrow. You hear a low hiss behind you just as you turn to close the door, a black paw scratching through the crack. Your cat has never shown any interest in your bedroom before, so you open the door, curious to see what he wants.

Your cat doesn’t even spare you a second glance as he prances inside, he just head directly for your bed and curls up in the middle of it. You roll your eyes at his shift in personality, quickly tugging off your clothes to find a shirt to sleep in.

You suddenly feel oddly exposed in your room, like someone’s gaze is watching you intently. A quick look back at the bed confirms that your cat is already asleep, eyes closed and tail tucked up over them, but you still tug on your shirt before you remove your bra, the weird notion not really going away.

You just chalk it up to Sana’s words making you a little paranoid, and you shake your head as you carefully slide into bed.

You end up practically curled around your cat, the position not very comfortable, but you’re unwilling to disturb him now that he's has finally fallen asleep. You guess all those memes about people letting their animals hog their beds had some truth to them after all.

It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion of the day to catch up with you, quickly pulling you under into a restful sleep.

There’s a wet sensation of something cold dragging against your skin, not really enough to wake you up, but it still drags you out of the dream you had. You feel it moving across your neck and collar bones, and your sleep-riddled brain barely makes the connection that it seems to be covering up the areas that Sana rubbed her face against earlier.

You huff, snuggling your face deeper into your pillow.

You’re pretty sure you fall back asleep, because the last thing you remember from your dream is a hot breath spilling against your ear, and a low gruff voice whispering Yoongi.

- - - - Hello! Hope you enjoyed the third chapter of desolate! I know things are building up a little slow, but we're getting there! The next chapter will have some surprises :)

My inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon!

[quirklessidiot]

Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”               [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes: 

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

navigation

Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…” 

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed. 

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud. 

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 1

cruel summer masterlist

AN: It’s here. Idk what the posting schedule will be like, I have no idea what my writing schedule will be like, but... I think it’s gonna be 25ish chapters? Maybe? Who knows. It’s gonna be fun, I think. I hope. Looking forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts. Alright... without further ado...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rowan Whitethorn is having a really horrible day. Not just the kind of bad that he can shrug off, but the kind that seeps through his skin and sinks into his bones, that permeates even the smallest thing, turning everything into a giant annoyance.

First, he missed his alarm, so his grumpy manager, Lorcan, has been even grumpier with him since he pulled through the gates of Ashryver Playland this morning. The amusement park job is less than ideal. Rowan hadn’t planned for his summer to be taking tickets and cleaning up melted ice cream cones from sweaty-faced teens – but it was the only place that called him back, and he doesn’t come from the type of family that can afford to pay his rent. So unless Rowan had wanted to spend the summer in his mom’s unairconditioned apartment, dodging set ups with her mahjong circle’s daughters, this was his only option.

It's nearly 3PM, and Rowan still hasn’t been able to take his lunch break. He knows that’s adding to his bad attitude. Rowan has a tendency to get hangry, or so his coworker Fenrys tells him. And because he was in a rush this morning, he forgot to pack his lunch. Which means he’ll have to spend money buying overpriced crap at the park.

Rowan’s also on trash duty today. Which means he gets to spend the whole day circling the park grounds with a giant broom and pan and pick up the fallen bits of funnel cake and popcorn and soda cups and dump them into the closest trash. Then, once those are full, he gets to haul the heavy bags of stinking trash all the way to the back of the park where the dumpsters are. It’s pretty much his worst nightmare. Though Rowan isn’t opposed to physical activity, he’s not super fond of smelling like rancid garbage. He tugs at the collar of the too tight uniform polo shirt stretching uncomfortably across his chest and frowns. After a bag split all over him earlier, Rowan was forced to go diving in the employee lost and found for another uniform. Apparently, the only person who’s missing a shirt is two times smaller than him. He sniffs himself and nearly gags. He can’t wait to get home and shower. He look at his watch … in … five more hours.

“Whitethorn,” Lorcan calls, crossing across the yard at him. “Take your thirty now. Then you’re taking over for Connall at the ferris wheel ‘til closing, yeah?”

Rowan barely contains a shudder upon hearing his new assignment. He hates trash, but working the ferris wheel is somehow worse. He didn’t realize until last week that’s where every middle schooler goes on their first make out date. He’s had to pull too many kids off the ride, feeling like their disapproving father as he pulled their clashing braces apart to make room for the next patrons in line. Frankly, he finds PDA disgusting. And the sight of thirteen-year-olds going at it is enough to scar him for life.

At least Rowan finally gets to eat something, though. The oppressive mid-day heat combined with hours of physical labor and no fuel has him feeling like he could keel over any second. He grunts his acknowledgement at Lorcan and makes his way to the closest concessions stand, which luckily has barely a line – I guess since it’s 3 fucking PM and not actually lunch time. Rowan is about to step forward when he feels tiny fingers poke against the back of his knees. He’s about to snap at whatever parent to keep their kid on a tighter leash when he realizes there is no parent, just a kid – and the kid is, in fact, trying to get his attention.

“Um, excuse me? Sir?” the little boy says. Rowan’s never been a sir before. He hates it.

“Yeah?”

“I think I lost my family,” he says resolutely, not sounding even a little bit scared. “Can you help me find them?”

Rowan’s stomach grumbles and his head pounds. He knows he has to return this child to his family, but he also knows he needs to eat immediately or he’s going to lose it.

“We can absolutely do that,” Rowan begins, “but I haven’t eaten all day. Do you think you can wait like… ten minutes?”

The little boy nods and sticks out his hand. “I’m Gavin and I’m five.”

“Hey, Gavin. I’m Rowan and I’m hungry.” Gavin giggles at that, and Rowan finally cracks a smile and shakes the boy’s hand.

Rowan steps up to order, thinking about what’s going to be the fastest, since his thirty minute break is going to include an unforeseen detour to security at the entryway of the park. “Can I get a hot dog, a pretzel, a cherry coke and…” He looks at the little boy next to him. “Anything for you?”

Gavin’s eyes widen with glee. “Cotton candy?!”

“…and a cotton candy.”

Rowan reluctantly hands over a $20, saying goodbye to three hours of hard work. But he has no choice. They get their food and make their way to the eating tent. Rowan keeps his eyes open for anyone looking panicked or in search of a child, but he doesn’t see anyone who fits the bill.

Rowan inhales his hot dog in record speed and takes a giant gulp of his cherry coke and immediately feels better. Sitting under the shade of the tent helps, too. The pair sit quietly and eat their food. Gavin swings his legs happily as he peels off pieces of his cotton candy, licking the sticky sugar from his fingers.

“So…” Rowan has no idea how to talk to a kid, but he figures he should ask him a few questions to figure out who to return him to, at least. “Who are you here with today? You said your family?”

Gavin nods excitedly, the sugar clearly starting to make its way through his tiny body. “Yup! My whole family is here today. My mom, my dad, Auntie Ae, Nana and Grandpa.”

“Wow.” Rowan’s heart tugs slightly. “That’s fun. Any special occasion?”

“Nope. We come every week,” Gavin says.

“Every week?” Rowan asks, his voice rising in pitch. He’s trying to do the math of the ticket prices. $30 for six family members. That’s $180. For every week of the summer…? Rowan’s mental math skills stop there, but he knows that’s a LOT more than he’s ever been able to casually throw down.

“Yup. Since I was a baby,” Gavin says. “It’s my family’s special place.”

“Think your family would adopt me?” Rowan jokes. He loves his mom a lot, and she did the absolute best job raising him, but they’ve never had a special place. His mom thinks adding guacamole to her Chipotle bowl is special. Not that Rowan disagrees. Guacamole is a perfect condiment.

Gavin finishes his last lick of cotton candy and holds his red hands up at Rowan. “I’m sticky.”

Rowan shoves the final bite of his pretzel into his mouth and stands up. “Me too. Let’s go wash our hands and then find your family. Sound good?”

Gavin nods, skipping next to Rowan, his little shoes lighting up as he matches the striding pace. They make their way to the row of porta-potties and outdoor sinks, which line the side of the park. As Rowan washes his hands, he notices Gavin struggling to reach the stream of water. Of course. He’s only five.

“Need a hand?” Rowan asks, and Gavin nods, holding his arms up to be lifted. Rowan’s arms burn, since he’s been picking up giant bags of trash all day, but he manages to keep Gavin mid-air until he’s finished cleaning the sugary crystals from his hands. He’s putting Gavin back on the ground when he hears a loud voice shrieking behind him –

“YOU! SIR, STEP AWAY FROM THE CHILD!”

Damn it.

Rowan sighs and turns, letting his hold on Gavin drop completely. This is so not what he needs right now.

“Gavin, honey, come here,” the voice calls again.

Rowan searches to see who the voice belongs to and is momentarily stunned. Gavin’s mom is… young. And hot. Her golden blonde hair is swept away from her face in a high ponytail, resting softly down her bare back, on display in a strappy yellow tank top. And her jean shorts show off her long, tanned legs. Rowan stares a beat too long because the next thing he hears is, “Gavin, earmuffs,” and suddenly the blonde woman is inches away from him, in his face and pushing at his chest with her pointed finger. She is mad.

“Stay away from this little boy, you pervert!” The woman’s eyes flare angrily as she pushes Rowan’s chest again forcefully with her finger, and he is not having any of that. He grabs her finger in his large fist and moves it away from him, making the woman stumble back slightly. Her mouth widens into a small circle as she looks up at the man grabbing her finger.

“I’m sorry, pervert?” He chuckles humorlessly. “This little boy asked for my help finding his irresponsible family. Who lost him. I work here.” Rowan uses his other hand to point to the stupid logo on the corner of his polo. “He happened to find me on my lunch break. Maybe if you’d been a more responsible mother you wouldn’t feel the need to get this worked up the guy who was clearly about to take your kid to security.”

“Mom?” the woman says, horrified and snatches back her finger. “Oh my god.” Her demeanor shifts entirely as she looks to Gavin and motions for him to uncover his ears. “Gavin, please tell this very rude man that I am way too young and cool to be your mom.”

Gavin frowns. “I don’t think he’s rude, Auntie Ae. He gave me cotton candy.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up in accusation. ‘You gave him cotton candy? You’re only proving my point.”

Rowan puffs out his chest defensively. “I’m sorry, is cotton candy a sex offender favorite? I wouldn’t know.”

“You clearly offered sweets to a child to lure him away from his family!” she says way too loudly, looking around and making a show of her statement.

“Quiet down!” Rowan snipes through gritted teeth. “I need to keep this job, for fuck’s sake.”

The woman smirks and steps closer. “I think your employer deserves to know you were luring children away from their families!” she exclaims dramatically, attracting the attention of a nearby security guard.

“No,” Rowan says, his voice increasing in volume as well. He’s had it up to here with this day, and this woman has grated his last nerve. “That’s not… Listen…” Rowan takes a deep breath. He really cannot lose this job. “I was starving and about to go on my lunch break when some poor lost kid asked for help finding his family. I told him he could order something with me, since I felt bad. Sorry. I’ll be sure never to be polite ever again.”

Rowan has gotten in “Auntie Ae’s” face, and he’s breathing hard. He’s worked up, and he knows it’s not her fault, but fuck this day.

“Is everything alright here, Ms. Ashryver?” the approaching security guard asks, and Rowan pales.

The woman steps back and takes a breath, her fury melting into a warm smile for the guard. “No, Frank, everything is fine. Just thanking one of our newest employees, who made friends with Gavin today.”

The guard chuckles. “He run off again?”

The woman’s eyes flash in warning and the guard shakes his head. “Ah, don’t be mad, Aelin. You did the same exact thing when you were his age. Running from ride to ride and driving your old man crazy.”

Rowan crosses his arms as the guard saunters off, and the woman turns back to him with a shy smile.

“Ashryver, hm?” Rowan asks, feeling a little ill as he pictures the large Ashryver sign that hangs over the entryway to the park.  “So, what is this, like… hazing?”

“No! I was really only going to make the one joke and then let it go,” the woman says, biting her lip guiltily and shoving her hands into her jean shorts pockets. “But then you called me his mom and I just… got carried away. I do that sometimes. I’m Aelin. Ashryver.”

“So I heard.” Rowan rolls his eyes. “You know there’s absolutely nothing funny about calling someone a predator, right? I could be arrested if the wrong person overheard that.”

“You’re making me feel very bad,” Aelin says with a grimace.

“Good,” Rowan says resolutely. “Because now I’m also late to get back to work.” He’s more than a little annoyed at how this entire exchange has played out. And even more annoyed that he can’t stop staring at Aelin’s bright blue eyes. This is the last thing he needs. He’s about to head off when –

“You’re really not going to tell me your name?” Aelin asks, tilting her head up, trying to figure Rowan out. Rowan’s about to reply when she cuts him off, not even giving him a chance. “That’s fine. I’ll find it out. I have connections, you know.”

“I’m sure you do, princess,” Rowan says. Her lips purse at the nickname, and Rowan can’t tell if she loves it or hates it.  

“See you, stranger,” she replies, dismissing him and grabbing Gavin’s hand as she walks off. Just before turning the corner, she tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and looks back. It’s only when she winks at him that Rowan realizes he’s still standing motionless, watching her go.

[pressedinthepages]

Sidetrack: Geralt

Summary: An unfriendly figure from the past still haunts you to this day, and Geralt finds a way to end that.

Series Masterlist

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: Whoops my hand slipped. There was a big question that I needed to answer in this series, so here it is! I plan on doing one more “sidetrack” for another plotline :)

    You hear hooves approaching your cottage, just the faintest plods against wet leaves under the sound of Eskel snoring. He didn’t used to snore, but here, in this sanctuary, he is comfortable. You stand, leaving the herbs you had been sorting on the table. You discreetly peer out of the window towards the near-invisible path from the woods, watching as a familiar figure steps out of the shadows. The moonlight dances over the silver of his hair and lets you see the high planes of his face, darkened by the tell-tale scowl on his mouth.

    You push open the door gently so as not to wake your sleeping Witcher. The air is cool on your exposed arms as you cross the small valley, meeting Geralt half-way. He looks tired, but only in the way that another Witcher would notice. The subtle way that his head hangs slightly or that his shoulders are not perfectly held. Nevermind the fact that his armor stinks to high hell. 

    “Gods, Geralt. How long has it been since you’ve cleaned that?” You cross your arms as you stand just out of his reach. 

    “I’ve been busy,” Geralt hums, and you smirk lightheartedly. “Listen, I need your help.”

    “Of course Geralt, whatever you need, I can-”

    “It’s about Stregobor.”

    Your blood runs cold, the world spinning around you as you feel rooted to the spot. And then, like oil bubbling and spitting through the streets of Novigrad, anger fills your stomach and boils over. “That motherfucker? What is it, Geralt? Hang on, let me get my shit and then we-”

    “Wait. We’re not rushing into anything here, not now.” Geralt’s right, and you know it. You huff nonetheless, gesturing for him to go on.

    “I know where he is. Yennefer did some magic-y yada yada and was able to figure out where he’s hiding. It looks like he’s holed up in some cave system that I am sure is enchanted. Yen is waiting with a portal for us,” Geralt shudders, “but we have to leave quickly. There’s no telling what exactly we’d be walking into, but I want to get rid of him once and for all.”

    You nod, glancing back to your little home. Eskel is probably still asleep, curled around nothing in the void where you usually lay. Your heart swells up, conflicted. As if reading your mind, Geralt chimes in. “I’m not asking lightly. I know how much of a risk this is, and I get it if you would rather stay here. But I wanted to ask you, since you have a history with him too.”

    You look up at Geralt, letting your eyes drift over the way he holds himself. The great ‘Butcher of Blaviken,’ stooped down and looking at you with fire in his eyes. You steel yourself, biting your lip before shaking your head. “Let me go grab my gear, I’ll meet you back here.”

    You leave him and Roach, listening as he walks her over to your stables. The door is silent as you walk into the house, letting you pad along the floor over to the edge of the bed. You kneel and slide out the little trunk that has held your armor for more than a year, now. You have to move aside some of Eskel’s as you retrieve your own, smiling a bit at the familiar red and brown stripes. 

    You stand and begin methodically dressing in the heavy pieces. First, the trousers, enforced with hardened leather and chitinous shell at the knees. You have to let the belt out a bit at the waist, having grown a little bit soft around the middle since you last dressed in these. Next a plain tunic thrown over your simple corset, followed by your boots. It’s so much easier to do them first rather than trying to bend over in all of your armor. They are stretched and molded from years of use, plates of enriched dimeritium steel decorating the sides. Then comes the chest armor, meticulously pieced together from different monster bits to provide the highest level protection from any number of creatures one may run across. Finally the gloves, your fingertips bare to provide the most direct source of any signs you may cast. 

    You look over the room, finding your swords resting against the door frame. You run your hands through your hair before pulling it back so it is away from your face. What am I thinking?

    “There’s a pack under the washbasin, it’s got all of the potions and oils in it…” You startle at Eskel’s deep rumble, finding him watching from where he lay over the pillows. Sure enough, when you look, there’s Eskel’s old saddlebags, filled to the brim with various decoctions. You move back to the bed and perch on the edge, running your fingertips over the scar down Eskel’s cheek. He sighs into your touch, turning to press his lips to your palm. 

    “How much did you hear?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair. 

    “Enough to know that this is insanely dangerous. But I also know that you have to do this. And I’m just glad that Geralt’s going with you.”

    You lean down, pressing your foreheads together for a long moment. “I love you, Eskel.”

    His eyes, deep gold in the way of sunlight filtered through the trees, find yours in the darkness. “Just come back to me, that’s all I ask.”

    You kiss him, trying to pour every bit of love and promise into him that you can. You break away first, knowing that if you push it any longer, you won’t actually make it out of the door. You throw on your dark cloak and latch the buckle of your sword sheaths over your shoulder, turning to look back at Eskel one more time. 

    He sits on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands intertwined between them. He looks up at you, and you can smell the fear pouring from his skin. You nod, choking on unsaid words as the door closes behind you. 

    Your eyes shine as you approach Geralt once more. “Ready?” He asks.

“As I’ll ever be.” The final leaves that still decorate the trees dance in the breeze as you pass underfoot, following in Geralt’s footsteps. He suddenly stops, just far enough into the trees to be out of sight of your home. He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a little circular device, opening the lid and taking a deep breath.

“Yennefer? We’re ready.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your medallion hums against your chest, the air kicking up around you. A portal opens up between the trees, a black void lined with bright orange and red energy. Geralt groans, moving forward first.

“Gods, I hate portals.” He disppears as he steps through, leaving you in the silent forest, save for the audible buzz coming from the portal. You follow quickly behind, hearing it snap shut as your stomach lurches forward, pulling the rest of you with it. 

***

The air is significantly cooler, the ground crunching with the beginnings of the incoming frost. When your eyes open you notice a tall mountain before you, the entrance to a cave situated not far from where you stand. Geralt shivers, clearly still recovering from the aggressive sudden relocation. 

“Does he know that we’re here?” You whisper, drawing your steel sword. 

Geralt hums, doing the same. “No. Yennefer rendered his outer enchantments null, so we should be able to sneak in pretty easily.”

You nod, and the two of you move silently up to the mouth of the cave. You reach into the pouch that you have situated on your hip, finding a bottle of Cat. You down it in one go, shuddering with the taste. Geralt raises an eyebrow, knocking back his own bottle.

“Shut up, it’s been a while.”

“Didn’t say a word.”

The world sharpens to every little detail in the rocks, rough edges jutting out over a small creek that runs through the stone. Geralt steps first, keeping his feet light and quick down the paths. You follow in his wake, and you can feel your medallion humming harder against your chest as you climb further and further into the depths of the cave. 

“We’re close” Geralt murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. “Climb up there and you can drop down. I’m going to go around, try and get him from behind. You need to go up to him and cast Yrden, that way he can’t portal out of here.”

“Got it,” you reply, hefting yourself over an upturned boulder and onto an overhang. You can hear the bubbling of various mixtures, the intertwined scents tingling your nose. You can see a lab of sorts, dimly lit by candles around the place. There are barrels and trunks littering the floor, and a man in a long, dark robe stands before a table. His hair is grey and unkempt, and you can feel a powerful magic deep in your bones. You give a count to thirty, letting Geralt find his way around the cavern. 

You take a deep breath before launching yourself forward, landing in a crouch right behind the mage. Yrden leaves your hand before the man can even turn around, trapping him in an almost invisible ring, the barest bit of purple light betraying the edge of his trap. 

“What the-! Why I-urgh!” The mage seems to go through several emotions quite quickly, dancing through confusion into anger, and then anger into pain. His knees hit the floor quite forcefully when Geralt leaps onto him from behind, yanking his arms behind his back and locking a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. You can feel your stamina depleting as you hold the sign, clearly a bit out of practice. We should do some training, just to keep up to standards, you think to yourself. 

“Don’t bother trying to break them,” he growls into the mage’s ear, “they’re dimeritium.”

You let Yrden go, your energy quickly returning in its wake.  You watch as Stregobor struggles in his binds before relenting, looking up at Geralt with a smug smile. “So we meet again, Witcher. And it seems you’ve brought a friend.”

Your stomach churns, but you force down your swirling emotions in favor of observing the mage a bit closer. You step into the light, letting Stregobor see your face. This face, scarred and feral and tired, that he recognizes in an instant. 

“Ah, even better. A friend that I already know.” You bare your teeth at his words, measuring your steps as you step closer. “Are you here to finally understand what you truly are?”

You grab his chin forcefully, breathing heavily into his face. “I know what I am. I am a Witcher, a human, nothing more. You, however, are a monster.”

Geralt hums from where he stands behind Stregobor. “Witchers kill monsters, do they not?”

You nod, pressing the tip of your blade to the delicate skin under the mage’s neck. “Did you truly believe in the Curse? Or was this all some game?”

Stregobor, the bastard, smiles wider, all innocence gone from his eyes. He knows he’s been caught, might as well have a bit of fun. “What does it matter? It’s over now, has been for decades. All of the rest of you are gone, you remain the final piece to my puzzle.”

“It matters,” you growl, “because I am the one with a blade to your neck.”

“No. The curse, it’s a myth. Sure, there was the oddity in one’s anatomy every now and then, but that was mere coincidence.”

You blink, a hurricane of emotion swirling just beneath the surface. But you can’t let it out, not yet. You have work to do.

Geralt steps around to stand at your side, and you can smell the rage pouring off of his skin. Like a wildfire made of cinnamon bark, burning the hairs along your arms as the wind blows over. 

“Go on,” he whispers, Stregobors eyes widening as your fingers tighten on the worn leather of the hilt. “Finish it.”

With a flick of your wrist and a step to the left Stregobor’s head hits the ground, followed soon after by the rest of his body. His blood runs thick and dark over the wet cavern floor. You can’t hear anything over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest and your breath coming fast. You sheathe your sword, stalking to retrace your steps through the cave. 

Your feet dance over the rocks as you climb out of the darkness, forcing yourself to ignore the thoughts whirling through your mind. You burst from the cave entrance, finding only dense forest and nowhere to go. The last traces of your potion leave your system, your eyes returning to their somewhat normal state. You look around for anything, finding nothing, panic taking over as you brace to run. 

And then Geralt is there, his hand on your arm. You look to him, finding a mirror of your own emotions in his eyes. His grip tightens, forcing you to stay. “Tell me.”

Tears well up unbidden as your damn finally breaks. You sink into his arms, sobs wracking your body. Geralt stiffens for a millisecond before his arms wrap around you, sheltering you from the storm that feels as though it is erupting from deep in your chest. 

“It was a waste,” you cry, “all of those years spent running, keeping you all safe, from me. But it didn’t matter, I wasn’t-I’m not-”

Your voice dissolves back into sobs, mourning the years that you lost because of the actions of another. Geralt told you his story with Stregobor, and Renfri. She, and countless others, had her life snatched from her, for nothing. 

“It’s done,” Geralt murmurs, “You don’t have to let this control you any longer.”

You take a deep breath and nod, stepping back into your own space. “Thank you, Geralt.”

He hums, opening up that same little box from before. Another portal opens just before you and you step through first, your feet carrying you home.

***

Your cloak billows around you as your feet meet the mossy ground of the forest around your valley. You hear Geralt groan as the portal pops shut before you take off running. The sun is just starting to rise over the mountains, bathing the lower areas in soft light that beckons towards the mist. The treetops give way to wide, clear skies as you run up the path towards your home. You see the door open with Eskel on the other side, visibly relaxing at the sight of you.

You gasp unwillingly as he runs to meet you, falling into each other’s arms as soon as you feel him on your skin. You fit your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in, scenting the last of his anxiety filtering away, leaving only the soft scent of home in its wake. Eskel’s hands hold you impossibly close and you can feel how his chest trembles under your fingers. 

Eskel parts from you only enough to look you in the eyes. “Did everything go okay? Where’s Geralt?”

“Yes, it’s done. Geralt was behind me, he’s probably emptying his stomach in the forest.”

“I HEARD THAT.” Geralt shouts from the treeline and you turn, watching as he trudges up the path. “I’m fine, just hate portals.”

“Yes, Geralt, we know.” Eskel laughs, and that sound, so deep and true and happy makes every moment of regret you may have felt seem so insignificant. “Come on, I’ve got breakfast ready.”

Eskel takes your hand and the three of you walk inside, dropping your swords and armor off to go back to their silent vigil over your home. 

[supernaturalteenwolf14]

Cora’s Brother

A/N so I had this stuck in my head for a while and figured I’d put the story to use and actually write out when my head has been trying to tell me so here it is. So basically this is about the pack Cora had stayed with when everyone thought she was dead. It’s in my OC’s POV.

OC x Derek Hale

Words:3430

Might be a series....depends on how it does. Let me know what you guys think, the romance won’t start till a little later I just wanted to build the chemistry first. Plus this is after Jennifer and I don’t think Derek would hop into a relationship that fast. 

I’ve always thought Derek should be with a fellow werewolf instead of a human or something else. 

****************************

****************************

I had heard that Cora was coming back very soon, I’m excited to see her again to say the least. I had been worried about her ever since she went on her own to find her brother of whom we all thought died in the fire like the rest of her family. I remember that day years ago, we were planning to visit the Hale pack because their alpha, Talia wants to know how we ran things so well in our town. When we got to the Hale house there were firefighters putting out the massive fire. I remember my mother calling my name as I got out to see if there were any survivors. She was worried that who’d ever set the fire was still out there. 

“Riley we have to go, who ever did this might still be out here” She had told me. 

“There might be survivors mom, we have to look” I said ignoring her. Traveling into the woods I followed a scent that I had caught. I remember the rate at which my heart sped up as I saw a little girl covered in burns on the woods ground.

“Help” She struggled to get out. I ran up to her and knelt down next to her. 

“Shhhh I’m here to help” I told her. I grabbed her hand and started to take her pain away once she was finally able to pass out I carried her back to the car. Sebastian will be able to treat her better back at home, while I could start the healing on the way, but I’d rather do it when my life won’t be at risk. I was happy to see that my mother was also looking for survivors. 

“Anyone?” I asked her once I got the girl into the car. 

“No firefighter said there was no survivors” She told me. “Come on you can heal her on the way” 

***********************

So I have a ability that most other werewolves don’t have. Regular werewolves have the ability to take away someone’s pain. I can take more. See my grandma is one of the very first werewolves, and she’s still alive, in fact, she’s the alpha of our pack and one of the oldest werewolves. She may not be the strongest anymore but she sure is wise. The very first werewolves had extraordinary abilities that evolution unfortunately got rid of. Healing was one of them, my mother can’t do it but I can. The only down side is the fact that it takes a lot out of me. The amount of burns that covered that little girls body at the time, healing her would put me out of commission for about a week.

That little girls name was Cora Hale. Since then we’ve basically became sisters. I helped teach her control during her shifts and had been somewhat of a mentor to her. About around the time she had left we got word of a newly emerged alpha, when I heard the name Hale I had told Cora right away that someone else from the fire might have survived and she was eager to find them. I went with her to find him but we were ambushed. I was knocked out and when I had woken up I was locked in a cellar of sorts and I couldn’t get out. It took a week for my pack to find me but Cora was missing.

After a couple days of trying to search for her she called me and said she was safe with her brother and she would keep me updated. 

“And you’re safe?” I asked her. 

“Yeah I promise, I’ll call you later okay?” She said. 

“What about the alpha, were we right?” I asked her curiously. 

“Yeah, it was my older brother, he’s alive” She said. “I gotta go”

I couldn’t get much more information out of her. I knew something must have happened, she did call me a couple more times explaining about how the alpha pack had took her and wanted her brother to kill her and his other pack members, of course she told me everything after it had already been dealt with. She said she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to get involved, which I would have. Our last phone call she told me her and her brother Derek were coming up. She said he wanted to meet and thank us. 

************************

Today Cora was coming home, whether or not she was staying though wasn’t up to me. As much as I hoped she woulds, her brother is alive now, she may want to live with him. 

I was doing what I normally do. Training. Being the granddaughter of the alpha, and the daughter of the next alpha, training is basically a 24 seven thing. Fighting, shifting, and dealing with town issues is basically second nature to me on top of working at the school where I am a counselor, it’s a nice job, but the only reason I have it is to keep on eye on the young beta’s of the pack. 

I was kicking Joshua’s ass in the fighting ring. “Alright, alright I tap out damn” He told me when I had pinned him to the floor. “So the student becomes the master” He said. I smiled at him and helped him up.

“Is he Riley?” I heard an unfamiliar voice ask. 

“No, Riley is a she and that’s her” I heard Cora answer. I looked up at her voice and smiled. 

“Cora!” I yelled and then grunted when Joshua took my feet out from underneath me. “Cheater” 

I got out of the ring and ran up to her and engulfed her in a hug. “Hey Riley” She whispered. “You stink” She said. I rolled my eyes and stepped away from her. I looked to the man to her right and smiled at him. He had black hair and green eyes. You could tell the two were related. He was handsome I’ll give him that. 

“You must be Derek” I said extending my hand for him to shake. “I’m Riley” 

He took my hand firmly and shook it. “You’re the one who found my sister after the fire?” He asked me. 

“Yeah” I said softly. His eyes softened and he gave me a slight smile, which is something I don’t think he does very often. Realizing our hands were still connected I took it away. “Listen let me clean up and I’ll meet you guys at dinner. My grandmother would love to meet you. Until then you two check the place out” I said walking away. 

************************

I was helping my mother bring the food out to the table. We have probably thirty wolves in the compound but they have their own cooks for those who choose not to cook them selves. We always eat as a family up here, my grandma, my mother, my brother and me along usually with Cora, sometimes we invite guests, like today since Derek is eating with us. I set the rolls down on the table across from my grandma. 

“Hey” She whispers at me signaling for me to come closer. I got close to her and she waved me closer to where my ear was to her mouth. “Did you see the ass on that Hale” 

“Grandma” I shunned and shook my head. This isn’t unusual of my grandmother. “Whispering is pointless we are all wolves here” 

“Oh I know” She told me I chuckled and went to get the last of the food. 

Everyone had their food and we were all eating. “Derek, if we knew about you sooner we would have brought Cora to you as soon as we could. We thought she was the only survivor” 

“It’s no problem, besides it seems like she was in good hands here” He said. 

“Ah yes, Cora wasn’t the first stray we took in and most definitely won’t be the last. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need” My mother said. 

“Thanks” Derek replied.

“Is Beacon Hills as crazy as it’s always been?” My grandma asked. 

“Worse” Cora replied.

“I swear that town is cursed. When we came to visit your mother wanted to discuss about how to handle it, especially since the nematon still had some juice. Our town here is all supernatural and we all coexist with eachother” My grandma stated. 

“How does that work?” Derek asked. 

“Our town is made up of five different creatures we have wendigos, kitsune’s, werecoyote’s and of course werewolves, then the humans. They all have their own side of the town.” I replied “If one steps out of line we handle it, and if we can’t” I said looking to my mother. 

“We get the hunters involved. We’ve had an agreement with the hunters in our area for hundreds of years, if we can’t handle the situation then they can handle it” My mother finished for me. 

“And they agreed?” Derek asked shocked. 

“After a lot of persuasion yes” My grandma said “Unfortunately not all hunters are as negotiable as ours like the Argents, and the Calaveras, those crazy bastards” My grandma stated. 

“It’s peaceful here” Cora told her brother. “You deserve a break from Beacon Hills, I’m sure Scott can handle it” 

“He’s still just a kid” Derek replied. 

“Must be a special kid” I said taking a bite of my food. “For him to be a true alpha”

“Yeah but he’s still learning” Derek said. “I can still teach him a few things” 

“Our door is always open” My mother told him.

*****************

The next morning my mother had sent someone to say to meet her and my grandma. Once I got up there they had told me that there was a murder in the woods last night. By the photos they showed me it looked to be an animal attack, except we all know it’s not, a werewolf or a werecoyote most likely. 

“I’ll talk to the neighboring packs and see if they have any out of control betas” I stated.

“You should bring someone with you” My mother said.

“It’s fine I can go alone” I stated.

“I’ll go with her” I new voice said, a voice belonging to Cora. We all looked up at her and her brother standing next to her. I smiled remembering how nosy she was. 

“You just got back” I stated. 

“There’s nothing to do anyway” She stated. I shook my head and followed her out. I noticed her brother following too. 

“Okay I don’t need the both of you, In fact I don’t need either of you” I said. 

“Oh come one, we can show Derek the town along the way” She said. I let out a breath and looked up at Derek. 

“Think you can handle an out of control werewolf?” I joked. 

“It’s second nature” He stated. 

**********************

After talking to the surrounding packs no one has recently turned anyone or had anyone missing last night. “It doesn’t even make sense, last night wasn’t even a full moon” I stated. 

“Let me see the picture again” Derek asked. I handed him the picture and he studied it. “It doesn’t look like it was done in a frenzy maybe out of defense” I walked to his side and saw what he was talking about. A werewolf in a frenzy wouldn’t leave just one set of claw marks on their victim, they would be mauled. 

“He’s definitely not a hunter” I stated. “If it wasn’t a werewolf then maybe a werecoyote.” 

“What about an omega, a wolf without a pack?” Cora asked. 

I shook my head. “When an Omega passes through town they usually try and find us, we haven’t taken in anyone new, and we would have seen them by now surely” 

“Maybe try to catch a scent?” Derek asked. 

*****************

We were tracking down the scent in the woods. “Still trying to get used to being a beta again?” I asked Derek seeing as he was visibly struggling with keeping the scent. 

“Yeah, kinda a drastic change” He stated. 

“Well it was brave what you did, not very many people would give up being an alpha, especially when someone is trying to kill you” 

“I did it for her” Derek said looking at Cora who was ahead of us. “She said you have an ability to heal? I’ve never heard of anyone able to do it” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m the last one. My grandma was one of the very first werewolves, and it was said that they had that ability on top of other things. My mother didn’t have the ability but somehow I did.” 

“How do you do it?” He asked me. 

“Like taking away pain just a little more. Takes a lot out of me, I was out for probably a week after I healed Cora. Even then she still wasn’t a hundred percent. Must be nice, seeing her after all those years” 

“She said I was a disappointment” He stated. 

“Sounds like her” I laughed. “She hated me too, she was honestly kinda scary” 

“I can hear you too” Cora said loudly. “I don’t hate either of you anymore” 

“Good to know” Derek said. 

“This is taking too long the scent in fading. I can track better if I shift” I stated going behind a tree and started to take my clothes off. 

“So shift” Derek said confused. 

“About the ability to heal, the first werewolves had another ability to fully shift into a wolf, I got that too” I said as I felt my back start to shift the cracking and breaking of my bones being heard. “Ah!” I yelled as more of my bones broke and morphed. Once I was fully shifted I followed the now clear scent.

“Pretty cool isn’t she?” I heard Cora say to Derek before I was out of earshot. 

********************

I shifted back and grabbed one of the cheap dresses I keep buried just in case I ever need to shift and I rip my clothes doing so. I’m hoping Cora remembered to bring my outfit I changed out of. 

“Coyote den” I stated as the two caught up with me. “Time to talk to the coyote’s” 

Out of all the creatures in this town the coyote’s are probably our closest ally. They respect our authority unlike the wendigos who are mad at us for not letting them eat living humans, instead they have to settle for the already dead. 

“So are there any humans in this town?” Derek asked. 

“They are all on the other side of town, most the humans kinda know to stay out of this side, call it a gut feeling” I stated. 

“Does this type of thing happen a lot?” He said gesturing to the attack. 

“Rarely, but it happens. Out of control omega, wendigos especially. Never really had a problem with kitsunes” I stated. 

“Aren’t they tricksters?” Cora asked. 

“The dark ones are, it’s their mission to cause all the chaos, strife, and pain they can so that they can get stronger, they can even possess someone, we’ve never dealt with one, and hopefully we don’t” I stated. 

“Kanima’s?” Derek asked. 

“Just one, but we got it under control before it could find a master. Just a kid.” I stated remembering what was done. 

“You couldn’t save him?” Derek asked me. 

“We tried, we couldn’t get to her, the hunters eventually intervened. That’s why I was impressed about Jackson” I stated remembering how Derek talked about the Kanima at dinner.   

********************

After talking to the coyote’s we found out it was a sixteen year old girl who had gone missing about a year ago, ran off with her boyfriend. She had gone along with it but when he had tried to hurt her she defended herself. She was in control, but she was scared so she hid out in the woods until her sister found her. 

“Please don’t send me to the hunters” Charlotte, the kidnapped girl said. 

“Show me your eyes” I told her. When she did they were a golden color, a color that means she didn’t take an innocent life. 

“We’ll talk to them, they are pretty lenient when it comes to self defense, but Charlotte, that wasn’t very smart, especially when you’re still learning control” I stated. 

“I didn’t think he was going to hurt me” She told me. 

“It usually happens when you least expect it” I told her. I looked at her mother “I’ll keep you updated” 

“So what now?” Cora asked as we were walking back. 

“My mother will talk with the hunters” I said. “Try to convince them it was self defense.”

“What if she can’t?” Derek asked. “She’s sixteen” 

“I know! If they don’t agree then I’ll think of something” I stated. 

********************

Derek and I were waiting patiently for my mother to finish talking to the hunters. Cora had decided to go to bed. I let out a sigh of relief when I heard that they will let this one slide but if it happens again then they would have to step in. 

“Thank God” I whispered in relief. 

“That was easy” Derek said both relieved and confused. I looked at his questionably “Something like this in Beacon Hills wouldn’t have ended so soon” 

“Are you gonna go back?” I asked him. 

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t like the idea of leaving Scott alone to be the alpha, with the nematon having it’s power back that town won’t ever be safe” He told me. “I just wish I could ask my mother for advice, she would know what to do” 

“What if you can” I told him. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked curiously. 

“Here follow me” I told him as I lead him into the study, a door that can only be opened by my family. “I know it’s a little morbid, but my father died years ago from a werewolf wanting his power, my father won but the wolf that wanted his power poisoned him in case he lost” I said as I grabbed the jar that held his claws pouring them on the table. “My mother spoke with him with these” 

“Spoke with him?” Derek asked. 

“An alpha’s claws are very powerful and there’s a ritual you can perform to talk with the person of who’s claws they are.” I told him. “But you can only do it once”

“Well there’s one problem” Derek said looking at me “My mother died in the fire”

“Talia from the stories I’ve heard was a very powerful alpha, her claws wouldn’t wouldn’t be something that would just burn away in a fire” I told him. 

“Even if they didn’t I wouldn’t know where they would be” He told me. 

“There’s a hunting family based in mexico called the Calavera’s if your mothers claws survived the fire and were found they would have it.” I told him. 

“How do you know that?” He asked me. 

“Because they had my fathers, it was like they had a collection of powerful alpha claws, and I think your mother might of been one of them” I told him. 

After I had explained how the ritual worked I walked Derek out of the study. We were in the door way. “Thank you” He suddenly said. I looked up at him. “you’re welcome” 

“Not just for this but for Cora too. This is the only place I would feel comfortable leaving her with and she wouldn’t shut up about you on the car ride here” He said. 

“I’m nothing special” I stated. 

“No you are, you can not only heal other’s but you can shift into a full wolf. You’re special” Derek told me. “I understand why she didn’t shut up about you”

I smiled and broke eye contact with him closing the door behind me. “If you do plan on going the Calaveras you shouldn’t go alone. They’re pretty dangerous. I can go with you” I told him. 

“No, you should stay here, plus I have someone in mind who will help me” He said. 

**************************

Derek stayed for about another week then decided to leave to find his mother’s claws. He had said bye to his sister already and walked up to me to say goodbye. 

“Thank you again” He told me. 

“Stay safe out there” I told him. “Will you be coming back?” I asked trying not to sound hopeful. 

Derek let out a breath and looked at me “Maybe” 

“I’ll take care of her” I told him

What Derek did next shocked me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight as I slowly hugged him back. “I know you will” He whispered then let go and walked out into the darkness

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 40

I got up to make banana bread for my niece. This chapter is just as sweet. Enjoy.

~*~Sebastian~*~

I woke up face down and naked on top of Emma's bed. I turned my head and could see Emma was also face down and naked. She was also using my lower back as a pillow with her arm under my ass. I have no idea how we got here. I remember the blonde with long hair trying to start shit. Then more shots. And more shots. We hadn't driven, so we must have taken an Uber back. I could see towels on the floor, so we must have showered. That's good because we both had to stink after all day in the sun. Her more. I stifled a laugh and felt Emma shift. I said, "Morning." My voice sounded like we’d been drinking all night or I’d started smoking again.

"Morning." Her voice sounded as rough as mine. She started to move then stopped. "I'm hugging your butt like a teddy bear. Interesting."

"Gotta admit, it's a first."

Emma joined me right way on the bed after planting a kiss on my ass. I rolled to my side, mirroring her, "Any idea how we got here?"

"Not really." She cringed, "I remember getting out of an Uber and barely being able to unlock the door."

"There's towels on the floor."

She leaned and sniffed my chest, "You smell nice and clean." Her eyes shifted between both our naked bodies. "Did we have sex?"

I laughed, "Oh, I doubt it." She laughed with me. I ran my hand down her side to rest on her hip, my eyes following. "I may always want you, but I think too drunk to fuck was a thing last night."

She smiled, her single dimple making itself known, "Always, huh?"

"Always." I went to kiss her, but was stopped by her hand on my chest.

"Oh no." She shook her head. "Something has crawled in my mouth and died." She climbed over me and headed to the bathroom. I heard her pee, flush, and turned the water on.

I knocked, "Can I brush too?"

She let me in and made room in front of the sink. We continued talking as we brushed. "How do you feel?"

"Not horrible. A little headache. My finger hurts. How about you?

"Dehydrated. Headache."

"We have brunch with your parents in two hours."

I looked at her in the mirror, "We can push it back. I don't want to cancel."

"No, Advil and some water and I'll be fine." She put her hand over her stomach. "I'll be hungry by then." She finished brushing her teeth, put her tooth brush away, and looked down my body. Emma's hand caressed down my chest to cup my balls. "You're very naked, Mr. Stan."

I almost choked on a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit and rinsed while she continued to fondle me. Thankfully, she waited to stroke my cock. I dropped my toothbrush in the sink with a groan. My hands ran down the silky skin of her back to her ass and I pulled her closer. I stopped a fraction of an inch from her lips, "You're very naked too, Ms. Marcum."

I kissed her and realized I was already hungry.

Two hours later we walked into Jill's Bistro and sat down with my parents. Mom was happy to see both of us. She'd texted me Friday morning to make sure we were still on and to tell me again she liked Emma. I was glad. I love my mom. While her approval of someone I'm going out with isn’t necessary, it is nice. Especially considering how much I liked Emma.

Mom did separate us for brunch. When we got to the table, she and Anthony were seated across from each other. I rolled my eyes as I hugged her, "Traitor."

Mom kissed my cheek, "I can talk to you both." She hugged Emma, "Nice to see you again."

"You too."

I pushed in Emma's chair and kissed her cheek before walking to the other side of the table. This was fine. We were both tall enough for me to stretch out my leg and touch hers. Yes, I am just that ridiculous.

Mom was on Emma's right and immediately noticed her finger, like any good mom would. Emma had left it uncovered to get some air. The blood was gone, but it was still red and looked like it hurt. She said it did. Emma told them about the game and I pulled out my phone to supplement with pictures and video. I smiled watching again, even more with the interest my parents showed. Eventually we talked about other stuff. Food was good. Dessert was incredible. It was a good time. I was still a little dehydrated and tired. Inside the CRV I looked at her, "Are you tired?"

"A little. Why? What do you want to do?" Her smile and the way she's looking at me. Damn.

Shaking my head, I said, "Nothing. I was thinking I was a little tired and figured you really must be."

"Wanna go home and lay on the couch? Read. It's your turn to introduce me to a TV show."

I laughed, "Yeah, it is. You need to turn in your lesson plans too." I remembered.

"Last week. Woo hoo!" She pumped both arms in the air. We were laughing when her phone rang. The CRV screen said, "Dad #2". Emma pointed toward the steering wheel, “Hit answer for me. The one on the left." I hit the button and the call connected. "Hey, dad."

A gravelly voice came through the speakers and my inner fanboy got very excited. My thought that Dad #2 was Ed proved true.

"Hey Emma. How was the tournament?"

"We won!"

"That's fantastic. Congratulations."

"It was fun. I'll send you pictures."

"Can't wait to see them. Did you hurt yourself?"

"Broke off a nail. Nothing major." She looked at me and winked. "I'm being well taken care of."

Thus far the conversation had been a quick back and forth. There was a noticeable pause before Ed started speaking again, "What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm seeing someone. He patched me up when I hurt myself."

I was thinking being a knight in shining armor would get me some points.

"Do you not remember the rules? Do dating before thirty. In the last two weeks have you miraculously turned thirty?"

Nope, no points for me. I'm also docking myself some points because I don't know how old she is. She's got a job and a condo. That’s old enough.

"No, I have not. Wait, he's over thirty." I held up some fingers. "Thirty-six."

"Was that supposed to make it better, Emma? Thirty-six. Fuck, he's not a musician too is he? 'Cause that requires paperwork."

"No, not a musician."

"What's he do?" There was a tone in his voice that told me he knew she was not telling him something.

"He's an actor."

"Not better. Should have never let you move to New York. Actors and musicians everywhere."

"I met him here." She was pointing down like he could see her. They were used to FaceTime.

“Yes or no. If I was to hang up and change to FaceTime would I see him?" He was giving her shit, but his affection for her was clear.

"Of course not, Daddy. I’m in the car. Answering FaceTime would be dangerous."

I let out a barking laugh. The tone of her voice was very Cher from Clueless.

"Ha! Thought so. What’s your name?"

I answered without pause, “Sebastian Stan. Nice to, well, meet you. Sort of."

"Sebastian Stan. S-T-A-N." I nearly laughed again. Fucking Eddie Vedder was Googling me. “That’s why your name sounds familiar. Marvel. What the hell are you doing in Beacon?"

"My parents live here. We met when I was helping them move." Yes, that's me sucking up. I pulled into her drive and put the CRV in park, waiting to cut the engine until we were done with the call.

Ed laugh, "I trust her that you're a nice guy, Sebastian, or she wouldn't have answered the call."

Emma laughed, "Very true. We're home. Now that you two have met can we continue the inquisition tomorrow night. He leaves in the morning."

"Sure. Harper has awards tomorrow, so wait until after school."

"I will. I can congratulate her.  Give the girls and Jill a hug. I love you."

"I love you, too Emma."

Emma put her hand on my arm and leaned over the console to kiss me, "He'll have your phone number, address, and SAG member ID in five minutes. Ten tops."

We kicked off our shoes and headed to the couch. I sat down and she straddled my lap, giving me a kiss. I decided to tell her what I'd thought. "He was giving you shit, but I could tell he really loves you. He sounded more, I don't know, amused, than anything."

She smiled, her tongue sticking out between her teeth. "He was. He's a lot of fun. He did tell me I had to get prior written approval before going out with a musician."

"I don't think he would have signed off."

"Me either."

I kept my arm on her leg, my hand on her hip. My other hand went to her face to guide her in for a kiss. A very long, slow kiss. I kept my hand on her face, "I don't know how old you are."

"Twenty-eight. I'll be twenty-nine on November twenty third."

"Eight years."

She ignored my statement. "I have a confession." This was going to be interesting. "I said I wouldn't Google you, but I had already checked IMDB the day we met. You hadn't said your last name when you introduced yourself and I wanted to make sure you were you I thought you were. Your birthday's on there."

I smiled with how she wasn’t sure who I was, "You're so cute I want to squish you." I hugged her tight, rocking her from side to side.

She was holding onto me and laughing, "Can I look at Google images? I like looking at you."

I un-hugged her where I could see her face. "You can look where ever you want. Promise me you'll ask me about anything."

Her face said no before she did, "I want pretty pretty pictures not articles or gossip. I’m having too much fun getting to know you. I want to learn about you from you."

I dropped both my hands to her thighs. A week ago I didn't touch her like this. "That means more to me than you can possibly imagine."

Emma shrugged one shoulder, tilting here head toward the shrug, "I think you're gonna mean more to me than you can possibly imagine."

Jesus. Maybe twenty-eight is too young to be afraid to say shit like that. I want to know how she's so fearless.

"I have a pretty good imagination."

"We'll both have to wait and see."

A very nice moment was broken by my phone. Something told me to pick it up. FaceTime and I didn't recognize the number. Emma did, "Ed." She climbed off my lap. "I'm going to grab my tablet. Want me to get your book?"

"Yes, please, outside pocket of my bag."

"Be right back."

I answered and waited for Ed's face to show up. "She told me it would take you five, ten minutes max. You're late."

"Everything takes longer on Sunday." He smiled, "My wife tells me I can be intense and overprotective."

"I get it, she's one of your daughters. I think she's pretty special too." I hoped my sincerity played over FaceTime.

He leaned back on whatever he sat on, "If she's letting us meet, she thinks you're pretty special too."

I smiled and nodded, "I hope so." I heard Emma coming down the stairs, "Please tell me you're tougher than her other dad."

Ed laughed, "He's a cupcake."

Emma put her face next to mine where he could see both of us, "Do not scare him. I like him."

Ed shifted his attention to her, "Should you say that in front of him?"

"Don't be silly. He knows. I would never."

There it is! I’ve been waiting patiently and there it finally fucking is. I turned my head and pulled away to see her, "There's the southern accent I’ve been waiting for!"

Ed smirked, "Wait until she goes back to Georgia. You've got a good two or three days before she loses the accent. The harder she tries the worse it gets."

"Which is why I don't try."

Indignant, but still a little Southern. I snickered. She turned her head and kissed my lips. I winced, “Don't do that. I think I was winning him over."

A young female voice came through, "Is that Sissy?"

"Hi Livvy."

A teenage girl with long straight hair moved in beside her dad. She looked confused, shifting her eyes between us. She settled on me and her mouth dropped open, "Bucky?"

I loved when kids called me by my character, "Who the hell is Bucky?”  A smile lit up her face, “How are you, Olivia? Emma’s told me a lot about you."

Attention back to Emma. "Sissy, you're dating Bucky?"

"I am."

Olivia's hand covered her mouth, "Oh shit!" She pushed her dad's shoulder, "Do not scare him off. I want to meet him. It's six months to Hawaii. Emma, you keep him happy and I'll make dad be nice. I love him." She was looking at me.

"Thank you."

Ed was glaring at me and holding up a finger. "One, Seb, I have a one daughter limit."

"I'm not willing to trade. I like the one I've got."

He smirked, "I'm starting to like you, but it could turn and I will find you."

"I'II try not to give you reason."

Another face came to the other side of Ed’s face. Obviously, his beautiful wife. She looked at me then Ed, "Have you two finished the pissing contest?"

Ed smile at his wife, love filled his face, "We've got a truce."

We stayed on FaceTime for a while longer and I was a little sad when we hung up. Emma stood up and I turned enough for me to grab and pull her over the couch into my lap. Her flailing and squeals made me laugh. I buried my face in her neck, kissing and tickling her. She tried to fight back and I held her wrists. Despite her wiggling I was able to kiss her. That stopped her. But I wasn't wanting serious or to sit here making out. I was still in fanboy mode. "I want to get on a plane and go to Seattle. That was so much fun, even the parts where Ed looked like he wanted to murder me. I got to see you with your family and finally," I looked to the ceiling and shook my fist, "got to hear your southern accent."

"We do have a lot fun together. Not that my parents and sister aren't fun, but it is different."

"Sure. I loved you telling Ed FaceTime would be dangerous. You two going back and forth."

Emma laughed, "We watch Clueless every New Year’s Day."

I punched my thumb and forefinger together, "Spot on."

She combed her fingers through my hair, "Do you realize me seeing you with your family is just as fun for me? Your mom sending you to the other side of the house and watching you two was great. You reverting to a little boy was amusing." She did the thing in my hair again. "And very sweet."

We like each other's family (at least the half I've met) and we like each other. Things are working out well. I rearranged her a little on my lap, "Can we catch up on some making out?"

"Absolutely."

[eliminatedtheimpossible]

The Case of the Disappearing Dinner Guests

I found myself at the scene of what John informs me, detective novelist refer to as a locked room mystery. The crime occurred at a one-bedroom flat in Westminster. Though detective inspector Lestrade had briefly detailed the crime to me via text message on the cab ride over to the scene, there is a great difference between having the crime described and seeing it laid before you. I’m honestly disappointed the readers will only be getting a retelling of the crime as words won’t do the incident justice. It is the first truly remarkable case I’ve had in months and it’s been long overdue. 

The layout of the flat goes as follows: there was an open floor plan for the main room, kitchen, and dining area. Two large windows covered the west-facing wall while a sofa, full-length mirror, and squared kitchen were tucked together on the other side of the room. From the windows, the offices of the adjacent building could clearly be seen. There were no curtains or blinds on these windows. For all intents and purposes, the office workers in the other building should be able to see right into the flat. 

The body had been found in the main room by the owner of the building in a mangled mess of blood and viscera. Descriptions from the owner of the building suggest the victim was the occupant of the flat. However, the victim’s name didn’t appear anywhere on police record. It was likely a fake name. Forensic evidence suggested the victim had been dead for three days. In these three days, none of the office workers in the adjacent building recalled seeing anything a miss. Quite the contrary, someone reported seeing a woman in the flat the morning after the crime. 

A member of the sales department recalled getting distracted during work hours by a ‘beautiful, young woman’ who he assumed lived in the flat. He confessed to watching her sit at her breakfast bar of a morning, sipping her tea and circling things in the paper. On multiple occasions, he recalled catching the woman’s eye. To his recounting, the woman would offer him a smile or a brief wave. The salesman declared it to be an act of flirtation but it could have just as easily been an attempt to be polite. People are fallible and often see what they want to see in a situation, not what has actually occurred. He reported seeing the woman the morning after the crime. 

I asked John what he thought of the whole thing. He confirmed that most women would deem the man’s behaviour as ‘creepy’ and would have invested in some blinds, but he supposed he couldn’t speak for everyone. Perhaps she had been flirting, maybe she had been flattered. Who was to say? It was odd, that she hadn’t invested in curtains or blinds. Then again, who was she? There was only one bedroom so it was unlikely she was the man’s flatmate. It was always possible she was the flat owners girlfriend but how had she missed the dead body which should have been in the centre of the room? Then there was the contradictory recount from the man working as night security at the office building. 

The man from security recounted the night the victim was killed in startling clarity. Clarity can neither prove nor disprove innocence. More often than not, lies hold more details than the truth. When locking up the office space the man glance to the window of the would-be-victim. As he recounts it, the window had been obscured by a thick curtain. However, the face of a man aged between thirty-five and forty glanced out. The security guard described the man as ‘gaunt’. The two had caught eyes for a moment before the curtain was drawn again. This was around 1 a.m. Upon finishing his shift, while exiting the building the security guard recalled looking up to the same window, finding his view now unobscured and two figures silhouetted. 

In the condition I found the crime scene, the dining room table had been set. Three plates of half-eaten food sat stinking on the table accompanied by flies in every stage of their life cycle including a startling amount of the dead and dying. The body at the scene of the crime matched neither the description of the attractive young woman or the thin older man. The victim was around fifty. He was large in stature and had the broad body of a man who had spent his life doing physically demanding work.  Perhaps he worked in construction. I found traces of dried cement on the underside of his boots. He had multiple stab wounds to both the chest and abdomen. The wounds suggested the victim’s assailant was shorter than he was, as the knife wounds had been in an upward motion. It was possible the gaunt man and young woman were the killers but something about the crime scene appeared off. 

The toxicology reports suggested the man had ingested a fatal dose of arsenic less than half an hour before his death. Further investigation revealed the food left on the table also had traces of arsenic. If the man hadn’t bled to death, he would likely have died due to the poisoning. Then why, one had to ask, had he been stabbed? Who goes to the trouble of hiding poison in food only to stab someone moments after? Also, why did each plate of food contain arsenic? Were there two more bodies to be found and if not, had the scene been set after the death of the body to confuse police? It truly was a beautiful crime scene. 

The bloodstains on the carpet were three days old, suggesting the victim had died in the room, slowly bleeding out on the carpet but how did no one hear him? While I had been pacing the room, taking in the conflicting data and trying to piece together what had happened John was in the far corner of the room scuffing his feet against the carpet. He turned to look at me and pointed down. 

“Maybe there’s something under here. It looks like someone’s tried to rip it up.” Of course. Readers, this is why I bring John with me on cases. He is absolutely brilliant at cutting through the clutter of a crime scene and finding the one thread which will pull all my theories together. 

His theory was completely wrong, as they often are but it did point me in the right direction. Let us suppose, dear reader that all the contradictory evidence is in fact true. The flat belonged to the murdered man and yet most mornings it was briefly occupied by a young woman and on the night of the flat owner’s murder, there had been a gaunt man in the apartment. That night there had been a dinner party where at least one of the patrons had been poisoned but before the poison had time to take effect the man had been stabbed several times, before being left to bleed to death. Come the next morning, the body, the curtains and so it would seem, the carpet disappeared and left in their place was an unbothered young woman sipping tea at a breakfast bar and waving at the man from the sales department. The only supposition which needs to be disregarded is that there were three people in the apartment that night. Disregard that and the whole thing slides into place. 

I felt a rush pulse through my body at this idea and began to pace around the edges of the room. For the idiotic members of Scotland Yard, it appeared as though I had finally entered the frenzied state of psychosis and mania they all believed lied behind the surface of my otherwise composed veneer. John knew there was more to the matter and gave me a sidelong glance as he walked beside me. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” He insisted.

I don’t like my stream of thought to be muddled by conversation but as John is my partner, in all sense of the word, I supposed I should tell him something. 

“The floor plans of the flat say it’s twenty-two feet.” John hummed as though trying to follow along. 

Out of frustration, I took his hand and pulled him close to my side making him match my own steps. This action had caught Inspector Lestrade’s eye and he gave John a puzzled and concerned look. Lestrade silently asked John a question John didn’t understand. I understood Lestrade’s look clearly but ignored him. He was asking if I was using again. Typical. 

John just shot the inspector a look I couldn’t see, which seemed to momentarily placate his worries. John squeezed my hand tighter. Upon reflection, I suppose I should have asked before holding John’s hand so publicly but I needed to show him what I was thinking. I pulled John along beside me, counting the steps out loud until we reached the opposite wall. 

“Eighteen feet,” John breathed finally seeming to understand. 

“Where are the other four feet?” 

We both began tapping on different areas of the far wall, moving aside furniture as we saw fit. I looked to the full-length mirror beside the sofa and could have cursed for how stupid I had been. John and I quickly pulled the mirror down from the wall and there it was, another small room.

This room was soundproof and a bloodstained curtain was piled in the corner. The corpse had never disappeared from the flat. The scene held a startling resemblance to stage magic. The room was a mirror-box and the body was the object which appeared to disappear and re-appear at the will of the killers but it wasn’t a trick of disappearance. Instead, it was a transfiguration. Older bloodstains in the room didn’t match the blood of the victim and it was too old to belong to the young woman or the gaunt man. It was the blood of the fourth dinner guest. People have the habit of stopping after three. 

With all the pieces in place and a painful call to my brother to confirm my suspicions, the crime became overly simple. The flat owner was an American and wanted criminal, charged with war crimes in Iraq along with kidnapping and murder across the continent of Europe. Two agents had been discharged to track the criminal, the first had disappeared three months prior to the man’s murder while the second had been the young woman. Another agent had been placed on the case after the first man went missing. A simple covert operation was made complex by the emotionality of one agent. 

After months of reconnaissance, the agents realised their missing colleague was trapped somewhere in the flat. They planned to kill the criminal covertly, leave a note with their superiors, rescue their colleague, and call it a day. However, something had gone wrong and the third agent had escaped the room during the dinner party. Out of anger and desperation, the man attacked the owner of the flat, stabbing him multiple times, killing him. 

This is not part of government protocol. The agents cleaned up the scene as best they could, wrapping the man’s body in the curtain, cutting up the carpet, and removing the food from the table, hiding the evidence in the small room behind the mirror. Two of the agents fled the country that night, leaving false trails and trying to avoid suspicion while the young woman stayed behind for long enough to let their trail run cold. When the time was right, she set the scene again and disappeared herself, hoping to confuse the police with the contradicting stories, also placing poison in the other plates of food and removing the man’s teeth, making it more difficult for him to be identified by dental records.  

After the case was closed, John and I took a cab back to 221B. It was our first case since the new developments in our relationship. Part of me feared things would be different but everything unfolded as usual, even the excess touching wasn’t strictly unusual. 

Upon arriving home I removed my coat and scarf, noting a small fleck of blood on my shoe. John and I still smelled of death. It isn’t uncommon for the two of us to come home smelling like decay. One of us tends to loiter on the landing while the other takes the first shower but today, reflecting on the new possibilities opened by the two of us being a couple I asked John if he wanted to join me. 

At first, John looked startled and I worried I’d done something wrong but after a beat, he agreed to join. We’re both still unsure of how to navigate our newfound relationship. We didn’t have sex. That is a topic neither of us is yet to broach. I’m not ‘shy’ about sex as a topic, but sex with John is different. John is also hesitant to broach the subject as I suspect his limited interest in men has only ever been theoretical. 

So, we showered together. John washed his hair while I huddled in a steam-filled corner of the shower and catalogued all the data the moment had to offer. John uses more conditioner than necessary, likes to shower with his back to the water, and has a small birthmark on his hip. All in all, it was an informative night. 

S.H.   

[shawnsvalentine]

business + pleasure : one

description: shawn’s always been into older women but sloan is the exception that drives him wild

warnings: language, failed attempts at humor [2.6k]

It was a rarity for Shawn not to get what he wanted when he wanted it, and she made the mistake of adding to his perfect record as soon as she saw the white cylindrical box engraved with CHRISTIAN DIOR PARIS. There was an elegant note card attached at the top that had been sealed with a golden Giorgi Armani sticker. She made sure to open it while Cassandra was out with a client, knowing that the box wasn’t a care package from her mother.

For your collection. If you have one.

— Shawn xx

She couldn’t stop herself from gasping at the gift inside, the beautiful silk feeling foreign against her finger tips. The Strength mitzvah scarf, that she knew costed more than the thrifted one she was wearing when Shawn first approached her, every bit as gorgeous as it looked in the pictures. She knew that it was no coincidence that he’d chosen the S scarf, but she had no idea how he’d came across her name; she certainly hadn’t told him.

“Good afternoon, Sloan.” Her head snapped up to see him, just as alluring as usual in a plum button up and tight slacks. His eyes darted to the Dior package and he smiled, his whole face brightening at the sight of it opened. “I wanted to get you the whole ABC collection, but I figured you’d think it was excessive.”

“The only thing I thought was how odd it was for one of the board members of Giorgio Armani to gift me a Christian Dior scarf. Something you’re not telling us about your brand?”

He shook his head, his teeth glistening as a smile broke out across his lips. “Our scarves are just fine, you just struck me as a Dior woman.” Shawn wanted the next few moments to be scripted, for Sloan to wrap the scarf around his neck and pull him in so close that he could smell her signature fragrance personally. For her to mold her lips around his and grab onto his arms, moving on to moan sweet nothings into his ear. But of course, all she did was smile at him, thanking him for the gift. “Why don’t you wear it to dinner tonight?”

“Dinner?” What about Cassandra? was the subtext that both of them knew was written in invisible ink.

“A friend of mine just opened a restaurant about a month or so back, it’s in Brooklyn. Neither of our circles run in Brooklyn.”

She smacked his chest playful, taking note of the hard muscle underneath. “Excuse you, I live in Brooklyn.”

“Even better, we’ll be in your borough.” He knew he was playing a risky game by reaching out for her hand across the glass top mahogany desk, eyes fluttering up to catch her reaction. “Just one date. And if you genuinely think we’re nuts for sneaking around, then I’ll leave you alone. But at least let me buy you dinner before you turn me down.”

She laughed lightheartedly, using her free hand to point back at the color splashed creme scarf. “You already bought me a two-hundred dollar accessory,” He pouted, completely unprepared for her to shoot him down. “But yes. Dinner sounds nice. Pick me up at nine.” Sloan scribbled her ten digits on a loose sticky note, stuffing it in his pants pocket before sashaying her way to the break room for a cup of coffee.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t positively giddy at the thought of spending a few hours with Shawn in public, completely uninterrupted by her boss or one of her colleagues. It meant actual conversation and not hushed whispers in between meetings and body language of strictly platonic professionals in case anyone barged in while Shawn was paying a visit. It meant getting to kiss him for the first time.

Sloan blinked back to reality as the Keurig began brewing her coffee, the black liquid filling up her boob-outline mug that she got on sale from Urban Outfitters. “Isn’t this like your third cup today?”

“What can I say, Kimmy, I love coffee.” Whenever Kimmy added her two cents where she didn’t bank, Sloan wanted to roll her eyes so far back they could get stuck. She couldn’t even drink coffee safely.

Kimmy disregarded the snark and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, glancing through the door as she sipped from the ice cold bottle. “Aren’t they just the cutest thing? Cassandra’s so stinking lucky, I’d give my right arm to date Shawn Mendes.”

“You’re left handed.” Sloan grabbed her mug and tried to return back to her desk in peace, but the sight of Shawn cozying up with Cassandra in the middle of the department’s floor had her sick to her stomach. They looked far too sweet giggling over nothing with one another, him practically nibbling on her ear, and all Sloan could do was wish that it was her. She hated feeling like a side piece, and even though she knew Shawn��s angle, she still felt like one. The girl he had to keep hidden.

Maybe: Shawn: It’s Shawn. I saw you watching us. I’m sorry. Will try to keep the office encounters to a minimum. SM.

Sloan: No, it’s not your fault. It’s on me

           Besides, if you stopped showing up I’d never see you

Shawn: Fair point. I’m still sorry though. Going to try to wrap up this deal as soon as possible. SM.

Sloan: What the fuck is sm

Shawn: My initials. I initial all text messages, force of habit. SM.

Sloan: You didn’t have to— nvm. SS.

Shawn: SS?

Sloan: Sloan Spelman

“You have a shoot tomorrow morning and you’re texting? It better be with your Gucci connect to secure that cowboy hat.” Cassandra. Most everyone has complained about a fatal flaw of their boss, but Cassandra Rosen? She was all flaws. Sloan often wondered how the hell she made it to where she was, the Editorial Director of the Vogue Magazine, talent be damned. How could anyone put up with one hundred and sixty pounds of pure mean just because she got things done? It was an answerless question Sloan had been asking herself since the day of her interview.

“Y-yes, I was just confirming it for the New Age Western shoot.” Sloan made a mental note to double confirm the hat for the shoot, otherwise she’d be out on her ass for telling such a boldfaced lie. She was still a bit baffled they were doing a shoot around a custom made Gucci cowboy hat for Lil Nas X all because he snuck it into one of his songs. It was kind of crazy how a guy younger than her had managed to wrap brands right around his finger, and he couldn’t even drink yet.

Shawn was practically staring her down from the doorway, fighting the urge to defend her against Cassandra’s sharp tongue. He knew his way around Cassandra by now, and saying anything to help Sloan would only increase her raging paranoia. It was just better to sit this one out. “I’m about to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow, Cass.” He wanted to say goodbye to Sloan but he settled on a polite nod as he turned to leave.

The rest of her work day was utter hell with Cassandra’s constant bitching about how Sloan’s first editorial shoot had to be perfect, as if Sloan wasn’t already stressing herself out. The only thing that kept her above float, aside from her coffee and Toblerone bar, was the reminder that her date with Shawn was mere hours away. She kept pushing aside the overwhelming anxiety surrounding getting caught and focused on daydreaming little scenarios about the two of them in some obscure underground speakeasy with total strangers. 

Sloan spent extra time in the shower, shaving everywhere just in case, and making sure she was fully lathered in her coconut meadowfoam body wash.  After a solid ten minutes of back and forth, she decided on keeping her curls out and wild, scrunching her bangs so she’d actually be able to see Shawn. She was still deciding between a tight black dress and a silk tank top with floral patterned bottoms when he texted her. It was longer than his normal and she was fairly sure he was nervous.

Shawn: I’m on my way. Took a while to decide on car or subway, but ultimately picked the subway because I wasn’t sure about the restaurant’s parking. He may have mentioned something about a nearby parking garage but those scare me. See you in about thirty minutes. SM.

She started to panic watching the minutes tick by and she grabbed the top and pants, letting her towel drop as she dipped into her body butter. Her underwear was barely on when her doorbell dinged, her hand reaching out to throw on her fuzzy purple robe before shouting out that she was coming. She figured it was her friend Alicia coming to hype her up before her date, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. It was Shawn. “Is that what you’re wearing? Bold choice.” He handed her the bouquet of peonies he was holding before kissing her temple. It gave her chills.

He looked absolutely... delicious. The maroon button up he was donning was showing off a bit of chest hair and his lucky pendant, and he’d rolled the sleeves up to the swell of his forearm. His hair was slicked back perfectly, his brown wavy locks framing his face in a way she thought should be illegal. She gulped at the sight of him towering over her, the urge to mount him oh so very real.“You said a half an hour? I swear it’s been only five minutes or so.”

Shawn shoved his hands in his pockets, his feet tapping against the welcome mat. “I had terrible reception at the terminal, it probably sent the second I resurfaced.”

“Well, come in. You can wait on the couch while I finish up.”

He shut the door behind him, showing himself around the coat rack to her living room. She followed a concise color aesthetic from room to room, the living room obeying the laws of pink and gold. There were plants surrounding her plush pink couch, and white throw pillows to match the rug beneath the golden coffee table. He felt like he was sitting in a Vogue interior design spread. “How long have you lived here?”

“Since junior year of college.” She kept her makeup to a minimum, light foundation with eyeliner and mascara, using extra caution so her outfit didn’t get stained. “It definitely beat paying that expensive ass room and board.”

She completely forgot about shoes as she left the bathroom, Shawn’s attention immediately on her and his jaw on the floor. Sloan tried not to pay any attention to it as she slipped into a pair of black pumps. “What? Is this not venue appropriate?”

“I-It definitely is, it’s just that I wasn’t exactly, I didn’t expect...” He rose from the couch, eyes still fixated on the way the silk clung to her body and how her curly afro graced her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever been legitimately speechless in my entire life. Until now.”

They walked to the restaurant, taking advantage of the warm air and quiet street, using it as time to warm up to one another. The overwhelming lust wasn’t enough to make them fall for one another, but the conversation was. She led, and he followed, a dynamic neither of them were quite used to but most certainly suited them. He was chivalrous, almost too much so, but she basked in the unfamiliar feeling of being treated like royalty. She wanted to get lost in him.

The restaurant was fairly busy but not at all chaotic. Patrons stuck to their tables, keeping conversation at appropriate noise levels for the ambiance, and the staff floated about as if they defied gravity. The architecture was fawn worthy with its sleek modernity meets upper class design. “Your friend owns this place?”

“Maybe friend is too generous a term, but we went to college together. We keep in touch, get together every now and then for a drink. He called me when it opened.” He gave the hostess his name for the reservation and she led them to a staircase that led out to the rooftop. There were only two other parties up their with them.

“Shawn, this is absolutely insane. Semi-private seating?”

He waved it off, opening his menu as he pretended to browse. “It was nothing, I promise. Jalen insisted it was the perfect first date table.”

She watched him closely as he went off on a miniature tangent about how he and Jalen met. They went from hostile roommates to close friends who jammed out together on the weekends, and that sparked their years long friendship. He was quite the storyteller, animated and engaged, careful about each and every word he strung with the next. Her senses were in overdrive the whole night, watching him be absolutely gorgeous without trying whilst actually listening to every precious word that slipped past his lips: and he made it far too obvious that he was doing the exact same thing.

“I know I’m getting ahead of myself but… what about a nightcap?”

Sloan tried not to laugh at his obvious attempt at a different date night activity. “You? In my apartment? Drinking? Nuh-uh.”

“What? Why not?”

She searched for the words to sugarcoat we’re not in the same tax bracket, that their shred of a relationship didn’t need an introduction to class divides this early. “I live in a rundown brownstone that I most certainly wouldn’t be able to afford if my nana hadn’t left it to me. And I’m willing to bet you live in a two-story penthouse on the upper east side that you can afford because Armani treats you a little too well.”

He took a longer sip of his drink this time, placing it back down with a bit more conviction. “Alright, touché. But just because I live like a douchebag doesn’t mean I am one. I’ve already seen your place, what’s the big deal?”

She took a moment to think about it, twirling her fork in the last few noodles on her plate. Maybe she was judging him too harshly. Maybe she was the one who was uncomfortable with the class divide and he wasn’t even thinking about it. She shook it from her thoughts, going back to the good time they were having all on their own on the rooftop. How good her looked staring back at her awaiting her response, the faintest hint of a grin on his rosy pink lips as he shifted his weighted onto his forearms. “Admit it, you’re just trying to get in my pants.”

Shawn gasped, his hand flying up to press against his clavicle to feign shook. “Me? Try to get into your pants? We haven’t even gotten dessert.”

She rolled her eyes, tapping her fingers against the table as her leg crept up the side of his. “You’re such a dork.”

He was suddenly that much more aware of their proximity, her arm flush against his and her body heat radiating onto him. Shawn flagged down the waiter for the bill in a split second, reading between the lines of her body language as well as her hand that and snaked its way to his thigh. He’d never signed his signature as fast as he did right then and there, shooting up from his chair to help Sloan up. He leaned down to whisper in her ear about what the night held for them when the most obnoxious, ear-splitting shriek stopped him. 

“Sloan! This is so crazy, I was hoping us Fort Greeners would cross paths one day!” Her eyes were focused on Shawn the entire time, flickering back to Sloan only to shoot her an all-knowing smirk.

“K-Kimmy, hi.”

taglist: @shawnase , let me know if you’d like to be added!

[vore-scientist]

Crystals (safe soft G/t M/f platonic vore)

a VERY MINI tale of the Mystic Woods

Very simple story. Jake gets to watch Yonah eat Sophia. 

Takes place like, a day after this: https://vore-scientist.tumblr.com/post/187841795165/the-machine-of-dreams where Sophia meets Jake for the first time, Jake tells the wild and adventurous story of how he and Yonah became friends, and then they become friends too! 

Warnings: None that I can think of. Except that I wrote this quickly, on my phone, and didn’t really proofread. So... not the highest quality. But lots of fun. 

----

Jake stood the wizard’s desk blinking the sparkling purple dust from his eyes. The Princess Sophia stood at the epicenter of the magical dust cloud, which quickly dispersed. Eagerly Jake approached her with his bag of Artificer tools. 

Wow! She was really made of glass! Sophia let him examine her temporary nature as an animated statue. All of her skin shimmered And felt smooth. It wasn’t cold to the touch but her body was quickly cooling. He tried tickling her. Nothing. He poked her in the eye. Nothing!  Though she could feel the contact, it didn’t register as anything more. 

With Sophia in a fighter’s stance, Jake tried to push her over and pick her up. But she was too heavy. Not just glass, completely solid glass. 

Taking out a tuning fork he tapped Sophia on the arm, the nose, the waist. It all sounded the same. When he tapped the lungs there was a distinct echo and the fork’s response sounded out of tune as well. 

Her hair was the most fascinating. The individual strands seemed to melt together unless disturbed. And thankfully wasn’t razor sharp, for Jake’s fingers would be ripped to shreds. 

After Jake was satisfied with his examination of the curse’s effects, it was time for the show.

Jake had never… seen this process from the other side before. Somehow, in all of his visits, he’s never been around when Yonah caught another thief. As Sophia was lifted up to Yonah’s face it struck Jake that Yonah was by all means much too small to swallow a person whole! Even someone petit like Sophia let alone someone larger like Jake! 

And yet. Yonah opened his mouth wide enough for Sophia to half crawl and half pushed in without any problems, though it was an effort. 

Yonah went nearly cross eyed as he worked Sophia to the back of his mouth. She pushed out at his cheeks, or that was his tongue, as he tasted her. He wanted to ask Yonah if she still tasted good like that but decided to wait on that. It sure looked like she did, because even through the contortion Yonah was clearly happy. And Jake knew that the physical act of swallowing someone was more than a little painful for his friend. The stretching of his throat, the crushing of his airways, pressure it put on his ribs. Yonah claimed it was a good pain, but it was still pain. 

Jake almost looked away as Yonah tipped his head back to take the first swallow. Almost. As the princess was pulled downward Yonah’s throat swelled. He Swallowed again And again. Jake knew Yonah was going slow, princess’s ankles were still at his lips. He didn’t have to. from personal experience Jake knew Yonah could down a human much faster, and didn’t have to be gentle on Sophia. This was for Jake’s benefit, and Jake wasn’t sure if he appreciated it or not. 

The feet of the princess disappeared and Yonah’s lips closed, soon the bulge in his throat receded down. Yonah closed his eyes clutching his chest at the sternum, breathing heavily and still swallowing. Jake turned his attention to the Giant’s midsection which didn’t exactly distend, but became a bit rounder just below where his hand was. At which point he moved his hand over his stomach, rubbed it affectionately, and smiled.

“Are you trying to catch flies?” Yonah was still out of breath. 

He looked at Jake with a bemused expression and Jake closed his mouth. After looking Yonah in the eyes for a few seconds he forced himself to look back at Yonah’s full gut. 

“Come on, give jake a show,” Yonah poked himself and to Jake’s fascination and horror the flesh moved in response, minute undulations and tremors to the shallowest of dents. 

“How’s that?” Sophia’s voice was muffled but not unclear though she was shouting a bit. 

“Hmmm it’s nice,” Yonah sighed. 

“I wasn’t asking you!” 

“That’s… that’s how it looks when I’m... when you. I mean, I didn’t realize you could see it.” 

Yonah put a hand over his stomach again, softly pressing in and around. 

“Well, you’re paying attention. If you didn’t know I’d just eaten her you might not notice.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” it was pretty obvious to him. 

“I am.”

Yonah’s certainty bothered Jake but he didn’t press it. He had remembered a question! 

“Does Sophia still uh, taste good? When glass?”

“Don’t talk like I’m not here!” Sophia shouted and Yonah chuckled.

“There’s lingering layer, but once it’s gone it’s gone. Then no, or rather, she tastes like glass, which is nothing, rather than…-“

Yonah’s eye twitched And his fingers tapped his stomach. 

“What?” Jake was worried that Yonah stopped so abruptly.

“Uh, Sophia doesn’t want to know what she tastes like to me,” his face flushed a little, “the point is, yeah, less flavorful, but I get a full stomach for much longer.”

“A fair trade off?”

Yonah nodded. 

“C-can I…” Jake looked from Yonah’s stomach to his face, nervously eager. Forming the words was horrendously awkward. 

“Yes, you can feel her. Well...,” he poked himself again, “you ok with Jake giving me a belly rub?”

“That’s not what I-“ Jake did not like how that was phrased. 

“Sure.”

At Sophia’s response Yonah plucked Jake off the desk and held him up to his stomach. The Giant looked down at him expectantly. 

Sweat beaded at his brow. Could he really just, touch Yonah’s stomach, while someone was trapped inside? That felt. Like a violation. But at the same time he wanted to know if he could feel Sophia from the outside. He should be able to, if Yonah could. 

Shaking he placed a hand over the spot where he last saw movement. Just as squishy as ever… he pressed in. It was like feeling bones in places they didn’t belong. Almost like how one’s ribs feel, the hard form of the glass princess was right there, under just about a foot and a half fat and muscle and tissue. Then she moved and Jake jumped back. That was too weird. 

“You’re ok in there, princess?” Jake wanted to be sure even though she wasn’t close to the time limit that was imposed upon the uncursed. Yet he worried. 

“Just peachy!” she sounded damn content, “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Y-yes. What are you going to do?”

“Nap!” She said as cheerful as one could possibly be. 

Jake felt her shift and with an ear to Yonah’s stomach heard her sigh. He also heard the stomach gurgle happily, it hadn’t yet figured out she was indigestible. 

“But, we were going to teach you how to spell stones.” 

Yonah glared at jake. Jake stood us ground under that fierce gaze. The giant ate the princess all the time, he could deal with spitting her back up now. 

“Oh fuck! Right! Let me out!!”

“But you just got there!” Yonah protested sounding like a wounded puppy, still giving Jake the stink eye. 

“Uggh fine, ten minutes then you let me out?”

“An hour!” Yonah offered.

“20 minutes!”

“50 minutes,” 

“Half an hour, final offer before I make you join me in Nap Town,” she threatened with glee.

It would have been rude to interrupt but Jake really wanted to know how that threat worked. Wouldn’t be be powerless inside him? How would she put him to sleep? Was she bringing a potion with her? He hadn’t seen her take one. However, he put the issue to the back of his mind. It was already weird to watch the giant bicker with the princess. 

“Uhhggggggggggggg” Yonah groaned, “deal.” He put one finger to his middle and felt her hand in response. the pact was sealed! 

Trying not to think about the princess, specifically about the fact that she was just hanging out in Yonah’s gut, Jake tried to be productive. Yes it was super strange. But he had been eaten many times! This was the same. Except she couldn’t die. She wouldn’t be spat out anytime soon, and he and Yonah were just going to carry on business as usual. As if Sophia was simply watering plants in the garden, and not filling Yonah’s belly. 

Stop thinking about that! Ok. Focus. 

If Sophia was going to learn to spell stones, Jake had to make sure she was given cheap ones, and ones that could easily be spelled. 

“So I guess we have thirty minutes to set up,” Jake started taking pouches out of his messenger bag. On a human sized desk he unrolled at thin white linen sheet, weighing it down to keep it unwrinkled. “Well, 20 minutes now.” 

It took a little longer than 20 minutes.

There were a lot of stones and Jake wanted to check each one. Using the same tuning fork he tested resonance. Peering into them with a specialized ocular device he determined crystalline organizational structure. He didn’t just want the good ones, he wanted a range of perfect for spell holding to just ok to downright shit. But before he did that, Yonah would hold each one to sense magical potential, which structure was a part of, it was impossible to tell with purely physical observation. Jake had more involved spells to do the same job, but Yonah was more accurate and only had to touch them. 

So it took about 40 minutes. Yet Sophia wasn’t demanding to be let out. 

According to Yonah, Sophia had indeed fallen asleep. 

“Is she going to be pissed when we wake her up 20 minutes later than promised?”

“Probably, but I'll be the one in trouble,” Yonah said. Having spoken lightly for the last 30 min he proceeded to bring back strength to his voice, asking Sophia to wake up, and gently jostling his stomach at the same time. “Plus she won’t mind if we spent time setting things up for her.” 

As Yonah stepped away from the desk to retrieve the princess Jake returned to the table. He had separated the stones into two groups, One pile for Sophia to use And one he would use. He could handle the less magically optimal stones . Then, confident he could remember which were which, he re-mixed them. 

He turned around as he heard a horrible choking noise to see Yonah kneeling on the floor bent over to catch a slimy glass princess in his hands which already poorly held liters of fluids. Jake started to smell it even from several meters away. It wasn’t always so goopy, it seemed to just depend on the ever tumultuous mood of  Yonah’s stomach. It was however, gross.

Jake stifled laughter as the goo-laden princess flicked a string of slime at Yonah’s face.

“I said thirty minutes you glutton!” 

“You fell asleep,” Yonah coughed as Sophia pouted. 

Reaching for his staff Yonah drew out a cleaning spell followed by a water spell for good measure, then he dispelled the curse. Now made of flesh and not covered in stomach fluids, Yonah brought her back to the desk and sat down. 

Lesson time! 

[yeah the end XD this was just like a short moment. 

Sophia isn’t able to spell a stone on her first day, only learn how to read the structure of quartz. The ocular device doesn’t let you see the structure, it shows refracting light She is shown what other gems look like and both Yonah and Jake demonstrate how to spell a stone, because Jake has a lot of stones he needs spelled.]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! for more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’ on my blog! For thief stories only search “MW Thieves”]

[pixeldreqms]

september 2018 

there's an estimated forty days left of filming and already, ian's dreading the end. he's been trying harder to enjoy the little moments, and not just be miserable because he knows they won't last forever. it's hard, but he's trying. he's almost never as happy as he is when he's with these people, his fellow losers, and he doesn't want to waste the time he has left with them.

forty days.

probably closer to thirty nine now since it's past midnight. one more day down. but that's something he's not letting himself linger on. instead, his eyes settle on kennedy who is getting his ass kicked in a video game but is still laughing so loud that the sound is filling the entire basement of the rented house. he focuses on that sound and can't help but smile. he focuses on it and he swears every sad thought in his head floats away, just like that.

he accepted earlier in the summer that his feelings for kenny weren't as platonic as he had originally thought. but in his defense, he was only twelve when they first met. he had a lot of figuring out to do.

he's figured it out now.

he loves all his friends, strongly and deeply, and he's a little co-dependent with more than a couple of them. if he goes a day without talking to evan, he genuinely misses him. he goes out of his way to visit the burgess' at every given chance. each member of the cast has expressed annoyance with the way he spams the group chat while they're all asleep. he's entirely convinced he needs june to survive. and he feels all that with kenny, too, so it took him some time to realize just how much more he felt. and how he felt things for him that went well beyond the things he felt for everyone else he loved.

he doesn't get an overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss any of his other friends when they get too close, for starters. that was a big tip off for ian.

kenny jokingly winked at him once and he felt like someone had lit him on fire.

he constantly found himself shoving others aside just to stand by him in group photos or to sit by him on a couch during a movie.

his own behavior should have been a giveaway right away, but he's not exactly very experienced in that area. not in just dating, but even with liking people. he's only really had one real crush before, and he'd been twelve. and he'd never liked one of his guy friends before either - but he'd accepted that fact easily. given how many male tv characters he'd been infatuated with over the years, and his long-standing secret harry styles obsession that started back when he was ten years old, he'd always suspected he wasn't totally straight. he still hasn't slapped a label on himself yet, but he doesn't think he needs to know for sure what he is to know that he definitely has feelings for kenny.

feelings that are so intense that sometimes he can't even think about anything else. feelings that are so all-consuming that all he wants to talk about 24/7 is kenny and he has to force himself, multiple times a day, to shut up about him or else he'll give himself away or let too much slip. and he knows better than to say anything, to kenny, or to anyone.

but god he wants to.

he's kept this feeling bottled up for months now, though it feels like so much longer, and sometimes he feel like he's gonna burst from how bad he wants to talk about it. his journal only has so many pages he can wax poetic about kenny onto, and he's sure even the inanimate object is sick of hearing about his crush. he needs a pair of real ears. and maybe someone to tell him he's not stupid or crazy for falling for his best friend. because boy oh boy does he feel like he is sometimes.

evan's loud hooping and hollering covers up the sound of kenny's laughter, and ian rolls his eyes but can't help but grin in amusement. his victory had been predicted since mid-game, but evan was still celebrating like he'd done something impressive.

in an attempt to show kenny support, ian raises his arm and gives evan and his win a thumbs down. "booooooo."

he gets two middle fingers raised at him for his efforts. he thinks that's all he's getting in return for voicing his disapproval, until evan drops the controller and comes flying past the gaming area, past the couch, and leaping onto ian where he's sprawled across a huge bean bag chair.

"hey, i wanted to play the winner!" jeremy shouts from the couch in front of the tv, where the other four teenagers had been sat, partially watching the game, partially on their phones, mostly having their own conversations.

ian easily could have squeezed in with them, but he couldn't resist a good bean bag. plus, he was closer to the little mini bar area that this place had. the bar itself wasn't stocked with alcohol, not that ian cares or jeremy's mom would have let them drink anyway, but she kept the shelves and mini fridge stocked. ian likes being close to the snacks.

"well i'm over here now!" evan yells back. the loud volume right in ian's ear makes him wince. "play the loser. kenny, that's you. you're the loser."

ian shoves evan off of him and onto the floor. "dick."

"no," evan says, rejecting his removal from the chair. "move your ass."

"no." but he does it anyway. he can't move much or else he'd be on the floor, because yes it's a big seat, but they're both months away from being sixteen and are not the same small twelve year olds they'd been when they first met. they've hit massive growth spurts since then. sharing small spaces isn't as easy as it once was, but it doesn't stop them from trying. evan ends up with one of his legs completely over ian's and their shoulders pressed together. ian lets it happen, but he's still mildly annoyed about it. "wow, this is so comfortable. i'm so glad you came all the way over here to dig your elbow into my stomach. feels great."

"are you saying you don't want to sit with me, you a**hole?" evan asks.

evan's elbow digs deeper into his side and ian's pretty sure it's on purpose. he grimaces and shifts as much as he can but still doesn't move out of the seat.

"that's literally exactly what i'm saying, yeah. you stink."

the bickering continues, because it never really ends with them. there's an almost constant flow of jokes and jabs between them. but for as much as they give each other sh*t, him and evan have definitely had their fair share of genuine moments between them. anytime ian has an anxiety attack in a group setting, evan's one of a few who knows how to calm him. ian's called him crying about his family or about wanting to go home more than once. there was also the time on set during their first movie together where after an intense, emotional scene, they'd both cried and hugged each other until they got it out of their system. sometimes his relationship with evan reminds him of his relationship with his sister, and the way they can pick and pick at each other, but at the end of the day, they'd die for one another.

it's just really fun to insult each other, so they do it often.

eventually, after evan shouts at ian to eat an ass, they're informed they're being too loud.

anna, the only girl in a group of boys, shushes them with so much aggression that it terrifies ian a little. she puts up with so much nonsense every time she hangs out with them, he's just waiting for the day she finally snaps. he knows he doesn't want it to be his fault, so he does as he's told and shushes.

"they're all haters," evan mutters.

ian nods. "they wanna be us so bad."

and just like that, they're on the same team again.

ian feels a vibration against his leg and realizes his phone's fallen under his thigh. as he digs it out, he sees evan's own attention has momentarily returned to the game on the tv just as the loading screen transitions back into gameplay, so he feels less bad about checking it. reading kenny's name on his screen, he visibly lights up, grinning at the text.

'if he's being a dick, come escape and play me next,' kenny has written.

ian quickly types back. 'he's not, but i might anyway. wanna be next to kick your ass.'

he glances across the room, but he can't see kenny at all where he's sitting on the floor in front of the couch, so he has no idea if he's grinning as big as ian is just from seeing a new text from him. he can't imagine he is, but it's still a nice thought. as soon as the round on the tv ends and the loading screen is back up, kenny starts typing.

'I THINK I'M WINNING THIS TIME.'

ian's smile widens, his cheeks sore from it, but he doesn't get a chance to start replying before -

"is it a meme?" evan asks, neck craning to look. ian clicks back to his homescreen quickly.

"is what a meme?"

evan slumps back a little once ian drops his phone to his lap. "whatever you were staring at like that."

"no, or - yeah." he answers, then changes his answer when he realizes he can't tell him what he was actually grinning at.

he wasn't as subtle as he had hoped.

"you lookin' at something nasty?" evan asks. "you fvcking freak?"

ian blinks, then deadpans, "yes. i'm looking at something nasty while surrounded by my friends. with you practically in my lap. you caught me."

"thought so. looking like a blushing school girl over here." that one's a little too close to home considering he feels like a smitten school girl every time he sees or talks to kenny, so ian shoves evan for it. he almost rolls over the edge of the seat but gets a palm on the ground to steady himself. "come on. seriously. what was it? what's so secret?"

"fvck, you're nosy."

"invested in your life," evan corrects him.

"nosy," ian insists.

evan gives him a look, a raised brow and a silent dude, come on, tell me, and ian takes a breath.

he reminds himself there's a reason he's kept this secret so under wraps. as much as he wants to scream from the rooftop how much he likes kenny, the risk of him finding out isn't worth it. he'd ruin not only their friendship, but probably the entire group. they'd never be able to all be together. not with kenny inevitably being weirded out by ian's crush, and ian being too mortified to be around him anymore. the rest of filming would be a nightmare. getting through press and the promotion would be torture. he'd lose his favorite person.

nothing good could possibly come from people knowing.  

then, he reminds himself this is evan. they may thrive off of giving each other sh*t, but he can trust him. he's never let him down before. not when it mattered. if there's anyone he can tell and trust they won't screw him over by letting it slip, he feels like it's evan.

if for no other reason than he'd suffer, too. not just because ian would never forgive him, but he'd hate it if the group dynamic was thrown out of wack, too.

evan feels like a safe place to finally be honest.

so he exhales, and speaks.

"it was a - i was looking at something from - it's a someone."

a bit of a rocky start, but he got where he was trying to go after a few attempts.

"you have a someone?" evan asks, seeming mildly offended that this isn't information he was already privy to. "someone i don't know about?"

"i don't really have someone," ian tells him. "i just... want to. i want to be with them."

"who is she?"

"it's..." ian's voice is barely a whisper at this point. "it's not a girl..."

the silence that follows is the longest, most anxiety inducing silence ian has ever experienced. it can't be more than twenty seconds, probably not even that long, before evan speaks again but it feels like a lifetime. he doesn't know why he's so nervous about the reaction to this. he knows evan well enough to know he won't care, but people can be surprising in the worst ways sometimes. and he's never done this before. he's pretty sure his sister has an inkling, but he's never come out and admitted it to her. this is the first time he's having the actual conversation and god it's fvcking terrifying. he kind of wants to cry suddenly but he's really holding himself together.

even while fearing and preparing himself for the worst, he mostly expects evan to react with some generic but kind sentiment. a that's okay with me, dude or an i love and accept you, pal.

that's not what he gets.

after a moment, evan's brow furrows, his head tilts just slightly, and he asks, as sincere as can be, "man, is it me?"

it's just what ian needs to hear to ease his tension. he throws his head back and lets out a cackle. the ache in his stomach is no longer due to nerves, but from how hard he's laughing. "absolutely fvcking -" he has to stop, pausing as he got through another fit of laughter. "oh, absolutely fvcking not."

a tear rolls down his cheek and he flicks it away as he finally starts to calm down. then he gets a good look at how unamused evan looks and it sets him off again.

"okay, it's not me, i got it!" evan says in a hushed whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of ian's own laughter. "who is it then?"

the nerves are back, suddenly. and again, he doesn't even know why. he wants this. he wants to be able to talk to someone about his feelings. he wants evan to know. but his palms are still sweating.

"you can't tell him," ian says softly. "i'll literally strangle you. you have to swear."

"i swear," he assures him. "so it's someone i know?"

he's pretty sure evan knows everyone ian knows. even his few remaining guy friends from back home, evan's met. but he doesn't remind him of that now, just nods and confirms. "yeah. it's someone you know."

"who? i'm not gonna tell, ian."

nervously, he glances towards the couch, just to make sure the game was still being played and their entire group of friends hadn't turned around to stare and listen to his confession. all he sees are the backs of heads, and he can hear everyone's laughter mixed with anna's muffled trash talk as she has a go at the game. no one's paying attention to him except for evan.

for some reason, he's having a hard time looking at him. the hardest part is already over, he tells himself, just spit his name out. but he's also telling himself that it's not too late and he can keep this secret to himself. evan would be annoyed about the cliffhanger, but ian could deal with that easier than he could deal with other possible outcomes of telling him.

no. he's doing this.

suck it the fvck up.

with his eyes on the back of the couch, in the smallest voice possible, he admits, "kenny."

he doesn't know what evan's initial reaction is, because it takes a few seconds for him to finally meet his eyes again, but when he does look at him again, his face isn't easy to read. he doesn't look shocked, exactly - and really, given that ian is arguably closest to kenny and evan out of everyone, it probably wasn't the most surprising name he could have said. if anything, he looks... confused?

"you're not gonna tell him, are you?" ian asks, misreading the look as inner turmoil about not wanting to keep a secret from their other best friend.

that's not at all what it is.

"no, i said i'm not," evan huffs. "but, why the fvck is it not me?"

"i'm - i'm sorry?" ian says, because what else does he say to that? "are you offended that i don't have a crush on you?"

"am i not cute?"

"evan, this isn't how people are supposed to react to sh*t like this -"

"i just can't believe out of everyone - kenny." he whispers it, at least. "and not me? really?"

"i'd love it if you weren't so fvcking weird about this."

"i'm not being weird! it being me just would have made sense, is all i'm saying."

ian squints. "and it being kenny doesn't make sense?"

evan sighs, falling back into the chair a little. "yeah, i guess it does. it does."

"just to make sure - " ian says, putting a hand up. "you don't - i mean, you're not upset because you like - "

"ew, don't even say it. i don't like you."

it's ian's turn to sigh and lean back into the seat. "okay, cool. you're just... fvcking weird. that's good to know."

there's a moment of silence and ian just breathes. he did it. he did it and nothing's changed, nothing world shattering happened. he feels like a weight's been lifted, just by telling one person. it feels really good. even if it didn't go how he'd have imagined it to. still good.

"knew it couldn't have been a meme you were looking at," evan says a minute later. "the memes you send are never that funny."

ian scoffs. "fvck you. i send the funniest memes."

"willow sends the funniest memes."

"you're gonna go to hell for saying sh*t like that. lying is a fcking sin."

"is it?"

ian pauses.

"... i'm not sure. i think so. did neither of us go to church growing up? that kind of explains a lot."

there's an angry cry from the front of the room that draws their attention. anna curses, followed by kenny laughing. once again, ian smiles at the sound.

the laughter, not the cursing.

"did kenny actually win?!" evan shouts over to the rest of the group.

kenny and anna stand up as the other three perk up on the couch to look over at the two in the bean bag.

"i've been winning!" kenny calls back.

jeremy chimes in. "he's on a winning streak!"

"more like a cheating streak," anna mumbles.

"he's beaten everyone except evan," jeremy says.

"ahem!" evan waves a hand, gesturing to ian. "not everyone except evan. let ian at him."

ian tries to suppress his grin. he'd been so worried about the bad outcomes of telling evan, but he hadn't considered all the good reasons. like evan helping him get closer to kenny. even just in little ways, like playing video games. maybe this was a better idea than he thought.

he meets kenny's eyes and when kenny smiles at him, he can't hide his own anymore.

"ian?" kenny asks. "you want the winner?"

evan nudges ian in the side, winking at him as they make eye contact and calling out to kenny, "yeah, he does."

on second thought, he might end up regretting it.

[lunacyofdukevenomania]

Chapter 3-Gumina Glassred; Scene 2

The Lunacy of Duke Venomania, page 85-93

Today a new beauty arrived in Sateriasis' mansion.

There was a town called "Lisa-A" to the east of Lasaland. Like Lasaland, it was a town that flourished on trade, and had a marked influence from eastern culture.

Lolan Eve was a star dancer who belonged to a big theater in Lisa-A. Her beauty was such that it even became the talk of Lasaland from time to time, and as such Sateriasis had always wanted to see her with his own eyes at least once.

When Sateriasis visited, the theater had prepared a special seat for him, as he was the local lord. It certainly had a great view, but as he'd been set in the farthest spot from the stage it had been a little dissatisfying to him.

The show began, and at one look at Lolan Eve when she got on the stage, Sateriasis decided that he would make her his third lover. At the sight of the lovely girl dancing with healthy, swarthy skin, he had been extremely captivated by her appearance, and charmed. He figured that she must mesmerize a lot of men.

After the show was over, Sateriasis had talked to the manager of the theater and arranged to meet with Lolan. Two days after that, she vanished.

.

"Thank you for coming, Lolan. Come here."

In response to Sateriasis' inviting hand Lolan quickly ran into his chest, and then exchanged a passionate kiss with him.

Lolan was much older than the other two women there, but it seemed she'd had no experience with men up to this point. Naturally, she had been courted by many men, but Lolan had never paid them any mind.

That wasn't out of any virtue, or because she was particularly prideful--it was simply because she was a lesbian.

But even her inclinations had been easily redone by Sateriasis' "Lust" spell. Right now Lolan had transformed into a naïve virgin who only single-mindedly wanted Sateriasis' love and body, as well as a lewd tramp.

"Let's go to bed right away, Lord Sateriasis."

"Haha, I'd like to do that too, but let's save it for tonight. First I want to show you around the mansion. This is the place you'll be living in from now on."

While Lolan seemed cross at being made to wait, she quietly followed Sateriasis down the mansion stairs.

The basement was as inhospitable as ever, but here and there certain womanly decorations had been set up, and the cleaning had been very scrupulously carried out. Lukana and Mikulia had worked with their own hands to make it a little bit more livable.

As Sateriasis and Lolan came down, there waiting to greet them first was a girl in pigtails. Mikulia.

"Welcome home Lord Venomania!"

Each time Sateriasis came down to the basement, Mikulia would always come to greet him with those words. She did that when Sateriasis had really come home from somewhere, and even when he hadn't.

Mikulia and Lukana were forbidden from going to the first floor of the mansion. So to her, the upper floor was part of the "outside world". So that meant that whenever he came down Sateriasis was returning from the "outside world".

And so, she told him "welcome home" each time.

When she'd first come to the mansion, Mikulia had always called Sateriasis "My prince". But Lukana had chided her for it many times, and so eventually she stopped calling him that and started calling him "Lord Venomania". Her choosing "Lord Venomania" and not "Lord Sateriasis" had been at Lukana's coaching.

"Look, look at my outfit♪ Lukana made it for me!" Mikulia said.

What she was wearing was a dress that exposed her skin much more like lingerie than an outfit. On her neck she wore a turquoise decorative flower, similar to her own hair color.

As point of fact, it was something Lukana had tailored under Sateriasis' request.

When Mikulia and Lukana had come to the mansion, their outfits had been extremely humble and plain. He had thought about buying them some new clothes somewhere, but the biggest tailor shop in Lasaland was the "Octo" shop, and Sateriasis had little wish to show his face there. Its owner was Lukana's uncle, who she had been very close to, and though he'd had his memories erased there was no guarantee that he wouldn't recall everything upon seeing Sateriasis' face.

And so, since he had her with him, Sateriasis had requested Lukana to make some clothes. The design embodied Sateriasis' desires, and as such he was quite pleased with it.

"…Whoo's this?"

Mikulia's expression hardened a little bit at finally noticing that Lolan was there. She asked her question to Sateriasis with a bit of suspicion.

"This is Lolan. She's going to live in this mansion with you two from now on."

"Oh, okay. Nice to meet you, ma'am♪"

Mikulia might not have meant anything by it, but the corners of the thirty-two year old Lolan's eyes went up almost a centimeter at being called "ma'am".

"Nice to meet you…Lord Sateriasis has some unexpectedly bad taste, I see♪ Keeping around a little girl who stinks of the countryside."

This time Mikulia's eyebrows hiked.

The two of them were both smiling. But even the thickheaded Sateriasis could tell that an impenetrable air had begun to drift between them, and so he quickly left Mikulia with Lolan in tow.

Next the two of them visited the kitchen. There was a place to prepare food upstairs as well, but as there were no servants in the mansion they didn't use that one. All of the meals that the women ate were prepared by Lukana in the basement kitchen every day.

Today as well Lukana was working hard cooking there. She was wearing a sexy dress like Mikulia's, but she had an apron on over it. Generally Lukana as her true self might make a prostitute-like outfit such as that, but she would never have worn it herself.

"Oh my, Lord Venomania. Is this…a new guest?"

Lukana took a break on cooking, politely greeting Sateriasis and Lolan. Unlike Mikulia there didn't seem to be any wariness towards Lolan.

"I'm quite busy again, ha ha… …Ah--yes, that's right, Lord Venomania."

Lukana made a face like she'd suddenly remembered something, and then handed to Sateriasis several books that had been left on a desk in the kitchen.

"I found these in a room down here earlier. Though they seem pretty old."

"Huh…Which room?"

"The one deepest in, with the iron bars affixed to it. I'd finally found the master key the other day, so I had been cleaning the inside…I only read the first few pages of the one on the top, but it seems like they're someone's diaries."

It was rare for a commoner like her, but Lukana was able to read simple letters. It was probably necessary for her work as a tailor.

"Thank you. I'll read it later."

He still hadn't found Sateriasis'--his own--diary. He had let that slip to Lukana earlier, when they'd been in bed. She must have remembered that.

Though I can't imagine a diary that was in a place like that could be mine.

After exchanging a few more words with Lukana after that, they left the kitchen.

"Now then."

"Is that everyone, Lord Sateriasis?"

"No, there's one other person here...Well, there's no need to deal with her."

"Oh, well I'd like to introduce myself to her while we're at it."

"…I'm not too inclined to, but alright."

At Lolan's badgering, Sateriasis gave in and took her to a certain room.

He knocked, but there was no answer.

"IR, I'm coming in."

Sateriasis opened the door and entered before obtaining the permission of the room's owner.

IR was inside. She was controlling her human body and quietly kneading a mud-like substance inside a container using the end of a cane.

"…What is it?" IR asked with displeasure, still continuing to knead the mud as she noticed Sateriasis there.

"I've gotten a new wife. I came to introduce you."

As Sateriasis' prompting, Lolan greeted IR from behind him.

"I am Lolan Eve."

"…The dancer of Lisa-A, huh? Well, nice to meet you…So this makes three women."

"No, four. Including you."

"Don't just add me into the headcount as you please."

"No matter how much time passes you still won't give up your body to me."

"…If you want me to burn you to ashes, you should try it."

After giving Sateriasis a stern glare, IR once more continued to determinedly churn the mud, wordlessly.

"Is that preparation for some sort of spell?"

IR replied without stopping her work to Sateriasis' question. "…Well, it is, and you could say it isn't."

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"…It doesn't have anything to do with you. …Well, I guess that's not entirely true…"

"Putting it that way just makes it all the more interesting, doesn't it?"

Sateriasis insistently hung on to the subject, but when he did IR thundered at him that he was distracting her and to get out--so he obediently left the room with Lolan.

Finally, Sateriasis led her to one more empty room.

"This will be your room."

"My my, it's quite big. …Although a little dreary."

There was just a single bed inside, and nothing else.

"If you want anything just tell me. I'll arrange for you to have it right away. Well then…Shall we get started?"

Sateriasis pushed Lolan onto the bed.

"Oh? Isn't it still a little early for it to be night?"

"Did I not say? There are no windows in this basement. In other words--at all hours this place is a land of the night."

.

Done kneading the mud, IR poured it into a mold that she'd prepared previously, and then poured the excess mud into the container again.

…Time for it to dry for a little while.

After wiping off the mud that had gotten on her hands using a piece of cloth, she sat down in her chair and sighed.

I can only get so far with what I can do here. For the full-scale manufacturing process...If I recall, there is a Gine workshop here in town. Perhaps I can borrow their kiln.

She was trying to make something. The impetus for that was related to the existence of Mikulia Greeonio.

The girl herself doesn't seem to have any awareness of it...Could her true identity really be that? It's a little surprising…or rather, extremely surprising.

Her human body was little more than a puppet for IR to control. But even so, it could get tired while she was controlling it, and if she worked too hard her back would hurt. IR held out her arms and stretched to relieve her fatigue.

And Lukana Octo…She's got some considerable makings as well. Just like the body of my own host, Haru Netsuma…No, perhaps greater.

High latent magical potential. That was the key talent to serve as intermediary for IR's puppet. Lukana had that on hand.

If I ever end up giving up on my current body,, I'd like to make her a replacement. As a new doll--a doll, yes a doll, ha ha ha…

IR joyously gazed at the mold full of mud that she'd placed in the corner of the room.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[starry-kfics]

faking it [seokjin]

word count: 2253

warnings: none

author: mel

♡

“Y/N!” The voice of your longtime friend, Jin, carried through your apartment. “We really need to talk.”

“Jin what the hell did you do?” You sighed, sitting at your kitchen table, already waiting for him.

“I may have accidentally suggested to the boys that you were my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know.” Pulling out your phone, you showed him the texts from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Taehyung, all asking about you two being together.

Jin covered his face with his hands, sitting across from you. “I’m so sorry, but did you tell them that we weren’t dating?”

“No, I left them all on read, I figured I’d wait for an explanation from you.”

“We were in the dorms, and all of them were making fun of me for being the oldest and not having dated as many girls as them. I got really defensive, and they asked when was the last time I went on a date. So I told them about when we went to the festival last weekend. I didn’t say your name, but they were able to piece it together anyway.”

With a sigh, you looked at your friend with an eyebrow raised. “What do you want me to do, then, Jin?”

Hesitantly, he said, “Be my jagiya for a little while?”

“Alright, come here.” You waved him over, and he sat in the seat beside you. Holding your hand out, you looked at him expectantly. “Give me your phone.”

Jin did so, and you fingerprint was already in his phone so you unlocked it with ease. After going into his BTS group chat, you stood up and sat on his lap with no hesitation.

“Y/N?”

“Well, we should let the poor boys know, hm?”

You opened the camera, and held the phone up for a selca. Jin smiled awkwardly, and you set it down to look at him, disappointed. “You want them to believe we’re dating, you’ll have to do a bit more than that.”

Jin looked lost, and you tapped your cheek with your index finger. He seemed to get it, and you held the phone back up as he kissed your cheek, snapping the picture. You couldn’t reject the idea that your cheek tingled a little bit afterwards, but you were too busy sending the picture in the group chat to really think too much about it. After it sent, you realized that you were still on Jin’s lap, and stood back up.

Stretching, you pointed to your kitchen. “Come on, Jinnie, you at least owe me some dinner now.”

As Jin rustled around in your kitchen, preparing dinner, you flopped onto your couch. Your messages were blowing up again with texts from the BTS members, and so was Jin’s, you could hear it buzzing still on the kitchen table. Curious, you picked it up and read the group chat, laughing silently at all their intense screaming messages. Most were yelling about how Jin had sent that picture and didn’t come back.

Then, you saw that you had been added to a group chat with every Bangtan boy, and they were flooding that chat now. You switched off Jin’s phone, and sat back down on the couch with your own.

You decided to humor them, and joined the conversation.

[you: about time we all had a gc together. how are you boys?]

[yoongz: don’t ‘how are you’ us!!!]

[jungkookie: why didn’t you tell us you and jin hyung were dating?????]

[rm: i saw it coming]

[tae: me too]

[yoongz: same]

[jungkookie: still waiting for an answer, y/n!!!]

[hobi: jungkook is just mad because he owes me money now]

[you: you guys made bets on jin and i dating?]

[hobi: yeah, its been obvious since he first introduced you to us]

Your eyebrows furrowed when Hoseok sent that. Were they all really expecting you and Jin to date? Looking towards the kitchen, you listened to the sounds of something sizzling in a pan, and Jin singing something softly. This brought a smile to your face, but you were brought back down the groupchat as it kept going off.

[rm: where’s jimin?]

[jungkookie: he’s currently rolling around on the floor screaming ‘noona left me!’]

[you: tell that idiot to stop being so dramatic, he never had a chance with me]

[jiminie: hey that’s rude, noona]

[yoongz: it’s true, she’s obviously had her eyes on jin since before she ever met you]

[you: we haven’t been dating that long]

[rm: hyung said you’ve been dating since high school]

Groaning, you realized that you needed to get your story straight with Jin if this was going to work. Grabbing his phone, you dashed into the kitchen and thrust it in his hands. “Get on the new group chat right now.”

Jin looked confused as he opened it up, then looked at you sheepishly. “I’ll fix this.”

You watched as he typed, then the message popped up on your screen.

[jinnie: actually, i’ve had a crush on her since high school, we only started dating a few months ago]

[yoongz: he speaks!]

[jiminie: !!kim seokjin hyung how could you not tell me you were dating my noona!!]

You laughed when you saw Jin rolling his eyes before replying.

[jinnie: calm down, jimin]

[you: i’m your friend, of course, but that’s it]

[tae: hyung, you waited that long to ask her out?]

When you looked up at your friend, you could see that he was uncomfortable and flustered.

[you: guys stop, you’re making jin uncomfortable]

[rm: wait, are you guys in the same room?]

Suddenly, a burning smell met your nostrils, and Jin quickly threw his phone down to take the food off the stove.

[you: yeah, and he just burnt our dinner]

[hobi: we have clearly interrupted a romantic dinner for them]

[jiminie: good!!]

[you: i’m about to kick jimin out of this groupchat]

[yoongz: please do]

[rm: if you don’t, i will]

[tae: jungkook is trying to wrestle his phone away from him]

[jungkookie: i won]

Jin was desperately trying to salvage some of the food, but it was all ruined. His head was hanging as he turned to you with a look of defeat. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, we can order in.” You smiled, grabbing one of the delivery menus you had in your kitchen drawers. You only ever really ate home-cooked meals when Jin was over at your apartment.

“No, I meant about this whole situation, the boys are going to keep bothering you now.”

“I think it’s really funny, actually. Now come on, look at what you want to order. This is what I want,” you pointed out your favorite dish. “If you could place the order, that would be great.”

Jin nodded, reading over the menu. You turned your attention back to the groupchat, it had gone wild in the two minutes you weren’t looking.

[yoongz: where’d y/n go?]

[rm: jin disappeared as well]

[hobi: they’re probably enjoying their dinner together]

[jungkookie: i bet they’re making out]

[jimine: they’re probably having sex oh my god!!]

[rm: jungkook, i thought you took his phone away from him]

[jungkookie: he was whining too much so i gave it back]

[you: we weren’t making out or having sex, you perverts.]

[yoongz: then what were you doing?]

[you: we were deciding what we wanted to order for dinner after jinnie ruined the food he was making]

[jungkookie: if he screams while eating noodles again, please record it and send it to me]

[you: will do, kookie]

Jin had hung up his phone, and turned to you with a soft smile.

[you: he finished ordering, gotta go guys]

[jiminie: !!now i bet they’re gonna have sex before the delivery guy gets there!!]

[rm: jimin shut up]

Shaking your head, you turned the ringer and vibration off on your phone. “Does Jimin really have that big of a crush on me?”

Your (boy)friend shrugged. “It’s more that he likes making fun of me.Oh, by the way, the restaurant said it would be around thirty minutes before the food arrived.”

“That should give us plenty of time.”

“For what?”

“Us to get our dating story straight.”

After that night, you finally made a common narrative for your “relationship” with Jin. And the groupchat calmed down a bit. Until a few months into this endeavor you decided to visit them at the studio. You knew that today they were practicing their choreography, and Jin liked your homemade lemonade. You were even wearing your pink blouse that Jin had actually helped you pick out a while ago at the mall.

Leaving the elevator, you knew where the practice room was, and caught a glimpse of the boys through the large window. Jin and Taehyung apparently had a special move to do together in a dance, and you frowned when you saw that Jin kept messing up. He was clearly getting very frustrated with himself as the dance instructor had them restart again and again. Obviously fed up, the instructor called a break before going into his own personal room off the main practice room.

You took this as your opportunity, opening the door with a bright smile across your face. “Hello, boys!”

“Ooooh, Seokjin’s jagiya is visiting him at work.” Hoseok teased Jin, mockingly nuzzling his nose into his friend’s cheek.

Jin pushed him off lightly, and approached you with a small smile. “I would hug you, Y/N, but I don’t want to stink up your beautiful shirt.”

“It’s okay, Jin. I brought you lemonade.” You held out a bottle to him, and he took it thankfully.

“Noona, what about us?” Jimin whined, and you shook your head, reaching into your purse.

“Don’t worry, I brought some for everybody.”

“I think Y/N is officially our band mom now.” Jungkook grinned from where he was sitting on the floor as you tossed him a bottle of his own.

“Does that make Jin our dad now?” Taehyung asked, taking a sip of the drink you had made.

“Ya! We’re not married!” Jin said indignantly, and you chewed on your lip awkwardly.

The younger man laughed, throwing an arm around Jin’s shoulders. “Sorry, Dad.”

Jin rolled his eyes, and after you had passed out a bottle to everyone, he motioned for you to follow him. You walked out of the practice room with him, and he led you around a corner, probably so the others couldn’t see you two.

“Was this okay, me visiting you?” You asked hesitantly, he didn’t seem very pleased.

“No, it was wonderful, Y/N. You’re wonderful, jagi.” Jin assured you, but he still seemed to be in distress about something.

“Then what’s wrong?” Brushing a few sweaty strands of hair away from his face, you looked at him with concern.

“Those idiots want to see us kiss.”

“We already sent a picture-”

“Of me kissing your cheek. They’re teasing me about moving too slow with you.”

“Just because we don’t show skinship and make out every two seconds doesn’t mean we’re moving slow!” You just about growled, clenching your fists. “Presumptuous and disrespectful, they are!”

Jin seemed surprised at your reaction. “Well, Y/N, I think that maybe now we could-”

You then grabbed his hand, pulling out from behind the corner. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He said, confused at your actions, you were now directly in the line of sight of the other six guys in the practice room. And you knew that they were all watching you intently.

Before Jin could say anything else, you had grabbed his collar and slammed his lips down onto yours. Initially, there was an intense passion in it as you were determined to prove those boys wrong. But it faded when you truly realized what you were doing, you were kissing your best friend, Kim Seokjin. And he was kissing back, hands cupping your cheeks gently. The kiss turned more soft, and you felt yourself melting away. Jin’s lips were even softer than they looked, and he moved his mouth against yours so tenderly that you never wanted the sweet kiss to end.

But it had to, as you needed air, and there were muffled whoops from the room beside you. The boys inside of it were going insane, but thankfully none of them had joined you in the hallway.

“What were you saying, Jin?” You asked him, still in the same position.

“I-I was going to suggest that we do our breakup now.” He admitted, and you let go of him, taking a shameful step back.

“Oh.”

“But now, I don’t want to. I want this to be real, Y/N. I’ve wanted it since high school.”

You looked up at him in disbelief. “You were telling the truth in the groupchat, about liking me since high school?”

“Yes.”

“Jagi.” You said softly, taking a step towards him.

“Jagi.” Jin murmured, initiating this kiss this time, and the passion was on both sides now, fireworks were erupting in your brain.

And to think, this all came about from a few teasing remarks from his band members.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

All I Want for Christmas is You (Naked) - Chapter 4

Today, the Doctor and the Tylers arrive at the house where they’ll be for the Christmas holidays.

@chiaroscuroverse @dwsecretsanta

@timepetalsprompts - Eccleston bingo - hand porn

@doctorroseprompts​ because the whole fic’s going to be a bedsharing/fake relationship Doctor/Rose catastrophe™

Beta’s by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

NSFW

Masterlist

The next morning, Rose startled awake to the sound of her mother pounding on her door, calling her name.

“Get up! The car’ll be here in an hour.”

“Ugh.” Rose flopped back onto the mattress, unsurprised to find she was alone. 

Grimacing at the sticky, messy way she felt, particularly between her sore legs, she crawled out of bed, threw on a robe, and headed for a shower.

Forty five minutes later, she walked into the living room to find the Doctor seated on the couch, tinkering with the toaster, sonic in hand.

“Morning.” Rose yawned, still half asleep as she bent to kiss him.

“Morning!” he beamed back. “Tea’s over there, just the way you like it.”

“Ta.” Grabbing the mug, she settled beside him to let the heat and caffeine wake her up.

They sat in silence, content just to be together while she came slowly to and he ‘fixed’ the toaster. The only thing missing from their usual morning routine was the hum of the TARDIS. When Jackie finally appeared, ready to go, she stopped to stare for a moment at the sweet scene they made.

“Well,” she started, amused when they jumped apart guiltily. “I’m about ready. Got your bag?”

Rose pointed to the suitcase sitting by the table.  “Everything’s in there.”

Jackie pursed her lips, but let it slide, not missing that they’d be sharing a bag. “The car should be here soon.  Let’s go down now, yeah? You’ll get the bags, won’t you Doctor?”

Without waiting for an answer, she strode out the door leaving Rose to laugh at the incredulous look on the alien’s face.

Kissing him on the cheek, she skipped out behind her mother without a word.

-

“You said car,” Rose said blankly, staring at the Bentley idling in front of them, the Doctor already helping to load the bags in.

“That’s what Mo told me,” Jackie replied faintly.

“Are we going or what?” the Doctor called, irritable.

The Tyler women slowly made their way over, Rose allowing her mother to slide in first, before crawling in – she’d already decided her best bet was to stay between Jackie and the Doctor at all times possible. He climbed in next, settling beside her with no thought to her personal space.

“You really don’t know anything about this boyfriend?”  Rose asked once they were on their way.

“No, she wouldn’t say, other than that he was rich, handsome, and spectacular in bed.”

The Doctor made an odd wheezing sound, and Rose put her hand on his knee to both comfort him and keep him from throwing himself out of the moving car.

“Well, that’s good. But no name, origin, nothing?”

“Nope,”  Jackie shrugged, nonplussed. “Find out when we get there, I suppose.”

“Right. Well, how’s Bev doing?”

“Well, wait ‘til you hear this…” And Jackie was off, hardly stopping for breath for the next two hours, to the point where as soon as the car pulled into a long driveway and stopped in front of a gigantic house, the Doctor all but leapt out and kissed the ground.

The Tylers followed at a much more sedate pace, Jackie going over to flirt with the driver while Rose checked on the Doctor.

“All right?” she asked, rubbing his arm sympathetically.

He glared at her. “The Shadow Proclamation has articles on torture, you know.  Never mind your own Geneva Convention.”

“I promised to make it up to you,” Rose reminded him.

“Oh, you will,” the Doctor vowed. “Right now, I’m thinking the first ever performance of Hamlet. Did you know it’s over four hours long?”

She grimaced. “I think I’d rather pay in sexual favors, ta.”

“Nope. Hamlet. And maybe a few others.”

He began to stride off towards the house, before doing an abrupt about-face. “That’s in addition to the favors, mind.”

Sighing, Rose followed him up to the house, where the door had opened and Mo was currently hugging Jackie.

“I deserve that.”

-

“Rose!” Mo cried, throwing her arms around her. “Good to see you!”

“Hey, Mo, Happy Christmas,” Rose replied, hugging her cousin back. “Thanks so much for having us.”

“I’m glad you happened to be passing through London, were able to make it. Come on in.”  She ushered the trio into the grand entryway, making Jackie stop and stare in shock.

“It’s like on telly!” she gushed, spinning in a circle.

Rose managed to reasonably keep her cool, having been in plenty of castles and manor houses in her time with the Doctor, but even she had to admit it looked spectacular, especially all decorated for Christmas. “It’s gorgeous.”

The Doctor made a vague sound of agreement, going over to the honest-to-God medieval suit of armor in the corner and frowning at the helmet.

“Right, well, do you want a tour and then to see your rooms, or vice versa?”

“Tour,” the Tylers chorused, before grinning at each other.

“Right, let’s start here. This is the formal dining room, it can seat up to thirty…”  Mo lead them around the first floor expertly, showing the living rooms, game room, and library, each more lavishly decorated for the holiday than the last. By the time they returned to the foyer to go upstairs, Rose was admittedly jealous and Jackie was almost green with envy.

“Does he have any single friends?” she wanted to know as they walked upstairs, not noticing Rose and the Doctor fall behind.

“All right?” Rose asked, taking his hand. He gave her a look, squeezing her palm.

“Peachy keen.”

“Doctor.”

He sighed. “I’m here for you, Rose, and it is what it is.  But after this, we’re diving into the first trouble we can find, yeah?”

“Promise.” Seeing they were momentarily alone, she reached up to peck his cheek.

“Rose!” her mother called, and they hurried to see the other women standing by a closed door.

“I was just saying this is our room.”  Mo explained, letting them peek into the opulent bedroom, done up in heavy brocades and antique furniture – it was a room fit for a king.

She pointed out that down the hall was their bathroom, a private office, an annex to the library, and another two bedrooms, before leading them upstairs.

“This is where guests would stay. There’s five bedrooms, two of which have been upgraded to en suites. Those are the ones I’m giving you, as you’re our only overnight guests.” She led them to one door, saying as she opened it, “Jackie, this is your room.”

Rose took one look and knew it would be a battle to get her mother to leave on the 27th; if Jackie Tyler had all the money in the world, her room would be spectacularly close to what they were looking at. Leaving Jackie to delight in her room, Mo guided Rose and the Doctor to the far end of the hall.

“I figured you’d want to be as far from your mum as possible. And don’t worry – the walls are very thick, sound doesn’t carry well.” She winked, throwing open the door to show where they would be sleeping for the next several nights.

Rose’s jaw dropped, slowly entering the room. The four-poster bed was something out of a story, and there was a real fire roaring in the fireplace. It looked exactly like what she’d seen in Henry II’s bedchambers when he’d accidentally tried to seduce her a few months earlier.

“Wow,” she breathed, belatedly remembering to protest, “Oh, we’re not tog-”

Mo snorted, waving a hand. “Whatever you need to tell Jackie. But you only brought one bag for the two of you – I can read that writing clear as anything. Trust me, you won’t be disturbed down here.”

“Thanks,” Rose said gratefully, deciding to leave the issue alone. After all, Mo was only assuming the truth.

“Course ducks. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled in, whatever. Remember the informal sitting room? Let’s meet there in, say, two hours?”

Rose gave her cousin another squeeze, whispering her thanks, before making sure the door was shut and locked behind her.

“So, we’ve got two hours, and I’ll need one to get ready.  What’ll we do during that time?” Rose teased, turned to find the Doctor had flopped himself onto the bed, and was staring up at the ceiling with a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t get it.” He gestured for her to join him. “Why would you put a mirror up there?” He pointed up, and sure enough, there was a large mirror attached to the top of the bed.

Her lips twitched in amusement as she settled on her back beside him. “So you can watch.”

“Watch what, someone sleep?” He turned his head towards her. “It’s pointless.”

“No.” She let out an embarrassed laugh, never having expected to have to explain something like that to a nine hundred year old alien. “So you can… watch.” She said in her best seductive voice, turning her head to face him. She saw the moment understanding hit, as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Giac had one over his bed, nice and big.”

“Giac? You mean – Rose! You said you didn’t shag him,” he complained, leaning up on an elbow.

“I didn’t! I did get a tour, and he tried, but I turned him down flat, and not just cause his breath didn’t half stink.” She giggled at the outraged look on his face, and eventually he settled down.

“And it’s supposed to, what – enhance the experience?” he asked derisively.

“Yep.” Rose popped the letter, considering their reflection above them. It had seemed absurd three days ago when handsome Giacomo had explained it to her, but now… She watched in the mirror as her feet separated and her knees fell apart, biting her lip at the surprising trickle of moisture the image evoked.

The Doctor was still rambling, and she tuned in only long enough to know he didn’t need her for the conversation. Somewhat fascinated, she idly brought her hand to her stomach, watching in the mirror as she ran it over her abdomen. Feeling her heartbeat begin to pick up, she tried running her fingers over the seam of her leggings, exposed by how her dress had fallen around her hips. She had to bite her lip at the sensation when she pressed the seam against her clit. Liking the feeling combined with the visual, she slipped her hand inside the leggings, grateful she’d skipped knickers under them.

Rose felt herself grow steadily wetter, somehow finding it more of a turn on to only be able to see a hint of what she was doing, while still experiencing the full feeling as she lightly traced her folds with a single fingertip.

A strange, strangled noise to the side of her said the Doctor had noticed what she was doing, and a quick glance proved he was watching the mirror in rapt fascination.

“Are you…” He trailed off, moving closer to press himself against her side, glancing from her hand next to him to the image above.

“Am I…” she teased, having to momentarily close her eyes when she brushed her clit.

“Are you going to keep going like that?” His voice was husky, his blue eyes had gone very dark, and even in the mirror she could see the growing tent in his jeans.

“Maybe.” She pumped the tip of her middle finger inside herself a few times, unable to tell if the growing wetness was due more to her touch, or the sensuality of the situation.

“Do it,” the Doctor commanded, palming himself.

“All right,” she agreed, watching him rub his hand along his zip.  “But only if you do.”

He froze, turning his head to look at her. Pursing his lips, he stared for a long moment before asking awkwardly, “naked?”

“Is there any other way?” She teased, quickly peeling off her leggings and sweater dress.  Within seconds, she was completely naked beside him, watching expectantly. Her left hand palmed a breast while the right wandered aimlessly through her folds.

He hesitated, hand on his zip, looking from her to the mirror several times before standing next to the bed. He reached for his belt, but had barely begun when suddenly Rose was there.

“Let me,” she offered before taking her time to undo the belt and push the jeans from his hips. Ignoring his pants for the moment, she pushed off the leather jacket and slipped her hands under the hem of his jumper, pulling it up slowly. Leaning down, Rose brushed her lips over every inch of skin she revealed, spending an excessive amount of time just above his boxers, carding her nose through his happy trail.

The Doctor watched, rapt. She was crouched in front of him, bare bum swaying in the air with her movement. When he looked down, the visual was almost overwhelming, seeing her mouth so close to where he wanted it.

He grunted at the stimuli, cradling the back of her neck with one hand. Eventually, she pulled the jumper off, but instead of going for his pants she nudged him back slightly so she could lean halfway off it to reach his boots, carefully unlacing each one while he bent forward to both hands over her arse and back. He must have decided she was taking too long, because just as she finished untying the second boot he brought his hand down on her left cheek in a firm slap.

“Oi!” she cried indignantly as she made him lift his foot so she could remove the boot, the Doctor steadying himself by resting his hand on the cheek he’d hit.

“Sorry.” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he moved the offending hand down to rub through her wetness, one finger pumping inside.

“Liar,” she huffed, even as she slid back on the bed, dislodging his finger but leaving her right at eye level with a bit of him that looked awfully happy to see her.

Rose glanced up to see him watching her intently, and pursed her lips. It took all she had not to laugh when his hips bobbed forward slightly, a hopeful look on his face.

Propping herself up on her forearms, she leaned forward to take him in, pleased at the deep groan he let out at the feel of her mouth. She brought one hand up to lightly rub at him while she sucked his tip.

Eventually she pulled back, letting him go with a soft pop and moving back to her original position under the mirror.

Turning her head, she found him watching her with what could only be described as a sulk, arms crossed, manhood standing proud and angry, an unsatisfied red.

Crooking her finger at him, she pointed at the mirror. “You wanted to watch, remember?”

With a put upon sigh, the Doctor climbed onto the bed, retaking his place beside her. “So, we’re just gonna lie here and touch ourselves and watch in the mirror?” he asked, frowning.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Boy, way to make that sound dead sexy. Yes, that’s what we’re gonna do.” Leaning up slightly, she caught sight of an old fashioned, floor length movable mirror in the corner, and instantly began concocting plans for later.

“I don’t like that plan,” he informed her, even as he rubbed one hand along his happy trail before taking himself in hand.

She shrugged.

“You do you, Doctor, and I’ll do me.” She smirked at her own pun, before firmly turning her attention to the mirror above them.

And so they did.