#help up- and the smaller kids walk under a circle through the bridge

[astrophilic-soul]

When you were a kid, If you learned nursery rhymes , which ones did you guys learn and if you can remember, what were the words or something special you did?

[cavity-core]

Satisfying Salad

Chapter Six

I post a lot of different stuff that is totally consumable for minors, but this space is not intended for minors, so if you fall in that category, please navigate it responsibly and respectfully... on that note.. keep scrolling to the next post kids. ^ ^

Despite the tag, this is not Kaebedo, I’m shipping Kaeya with the Fellflower because I’m an absolute psychopath... I call it crack but it’s my otp idk what’s wrong with me, cryo sugoi.

It is still updating but you can read the full fic here.

Forgot I was posting this on Tumblr but I just uploaded a new chapter (9… aka 10) so now I remembered!

Last night had been hectic and disorienting for Subject Three. He remembered passing out on Kaeya’s bed, nestled against the thick duvet, but he’d woken up in a bush. As tempting as it had been to burrow into the ground right there for a nap, there was no way he could do that! His master sent him to take Albedo’s place in Mondstadt, and even if he’d messed up a little he couldn’t just go back to Dragonspine already.

Walking on his stupid human legs was so slow, but luckily he wasn’t in Mondstadt and he wasn’t under cover, so he was free to burrow into the ground and dig his way back to the city. Being able to take root and expel the alcohol from his body, as well as just being able to feel the dirt all around him made him feel infinitely better, he was ready to take this mission on again with gusto!

The only problem was… he didn’t have his clothes. As far as he knew, they were still with Kaeya. Captain Kaeya… he definitely wanted to see him again— oh, but he knew of Subject Three’s real identity. He helped hide it from the alchemy bench man though, so maybe it didn’t bother him! Subject Three could be just as good as any dumb human or homonculus!

Getting into the actual city without his human disguise was much harder, but he was well equipped to take on the challenge. Although the average WhopperFlower lacked the ability to change much beyond its corolla while its body remained hidden beneath the ground, his master’s alchemic intervention had done more than alter his appearance to that of a human, but rather it had made his entire body more malleable to disguises so to speak. Not only did it allow him to mimic with his entire body but he was not limited by size… within reason anyway; the greater the difference in size, the more taxing it was on his body, as he had so aptly shown last night while drunk.

Smaller was easier than bigger, but everything took practice. The crystal flies that had been drifting around him when he’d awoken served as excellent inspiration to float gently over the bridge and up, up over the wall, never arousing any suspicion as such a harmless creature. It was convenient both as a means of getting inside but also as a means of taking in his surroundings.

Maybe it was because subconsciously he was already looking for him, but as Subject Three fluttered over the red coloured rooves toward the square, he picked out Kaeya stumbling away from the Angel’s Share. His first thought was that perhaps he had gotten injured somehow, after all Subject Three had also woken up sore and disheveled, but it was also possible that Kaeya was affected by the same kind of drink as everyone else in the tavern. Either way, he needed to get back inside the apartment to retrieve his clothes in order to continue his mission.

Remaining safely up in the air, far above Kaeya’s head, he followed him right back to his building again. Unfortunately, there was no way he’d make it down in time to follow him through the door now, so his only other option was to search for an open window. Circling the building was proving to be a fruitless endeavour until a pair of shutters suddenly flew open, and low and behold it was Kaeya’s room on the other side. Frankly, Subject Three was a prodigy, his master clearly couldn’t have chosen a WhopperFlower more geniusly gifted in the art of infiltration.

He only had to perch on the flower box for a couple of minutes before Kaeya had shucked off a few layers and collapsed onto the bed… which was actually a problem, Subject Three noted as he entered the room and resumed his usual form, because his clothes were on the bed… under Kaeya. Retrieving them was out of the question, Kaeya was too heavy to pull them out from without waking him… Subject Three knew this for sure because he had already tried, resulting only in the whopper skittering under the bed when Kaeya groaned and shifted.

This wasn’t about to stop him though, he had already devised another, equally brilliant plan: There was a large, potted plant on the floor near the bedroom door, inside it was a big plant with fanning leaves. Easy. He slunk out from beneath the bed frame and reached up with his leafy appendages to take hold of it by the base and rip it free. It took much of the dirt with it so he did his best to shake most of it back into the pot before hopping back to the window and chucking it out.

Phase one had been executed perfectly. The real plant was gone and Kaeya was still fast asleep! Now was the easy part, hopping into the pot and nestling himself into the soil to take the form of the evicted plant and wait. Once Kaeya woke up and left the building, he could hop back out, grab his clothes and… … he.. didn’t think any farther ahead than that. This soil was very comfortable though and the size of the pot was actually pretty cozy, before long Subject Three had dozed off as well.

It might have been better for his initial plan if all the ruckus of Kaeya waking up in the morning hadn’t roused him and he’d remained quiet when he was called out. Unfortunately, it turned out that Subject Three had not been thorough enough with his disposal of the other plant. The floor was dirty and the plant was right there outside the window, all Kaeya had to do was look down! Foolish mistake after foolish mistake were what got him caught the first time, and this time was no different it seemed. Should he take his punishment and just return to his master in Dragonspine after all, accepting his failure?

Kaeya’s reaction didn’t seem aggressive though, he didn’t sound angry… he sounded more or less the same as usual. Maybe he really wasn’t that bothered about Subject Three’s identity, maybe Subject Three had already gone above and beyond and found an ally. Ignoring Kaeya’s objections, he dropped his disguise, wriggled free of the potting soil, and hopped out of the pot, nuzzling up to his leg with a soft squeak. Even without the drink from last night, he was still getting that weird feeling of wanting to be physically close to the human.

The feeling of Kaeya’s hands on him again made his skin prickle… but in a good way, making Subject Three squirm a little in his grasp. Kaeya also said he was allowed to continue his mission! Even though Kaeya didn’t think his master would be coming back… but that was the next step.. so he had to.

“Let’s clean you off then,” Kaeya sighed, carrying him towards a different room of the apartment.

As a mimic, Subject Three was sensitive to minute changes in demeanour and something about Kaeya seemed softer today. Both his tone and his motions as he cleaned and watered Subject Three, adjusting the temperature to his preference and drying him off in a plush blanket that smelled like Kaeya. Obviously he couldn’t burrow into it, but he could try.

When they were done, he was placed on the bed with his discarded clothes from last night while Kaeya cleaned up the floor then left, albeit awkwardly, to clean himself off next. Unfortunately, Subject Three still didn’t know how to put on any of these clothes. He did resume his mimicked form of Subject One and kind of picked up some of the garments, but he didn’t even want to wear all these stupid clothes again! He hated every single piece and still remained at a loss on how to wear any of them right up until Kaeya reappeared… in nothing but the towel Subject Three had dried off in.

Even last night Kaeya hadn’t fully undressed. He had never seen Kaeya fully naked, he noted, staring down at the towel while he was interrogated about his undressed state. How strange that he wanted to see… Subject Three watched intently as Kaeya moved about the room collecting his clothes, but to the whopper’s dismay he disappeared briefly into the bathroom before returning again, clothed.

Again, Kaeya was gentle, despite some frustration creeping into his tone when Subject Three voiced his disdain. In the end, Kaeya pulled every layer back onto him and he was once again stuck in Albedo’s stupid, stifling cloth prison of sensory despair. On the bright side, he was heading back to his mission despite his short comings, alongside Kaeya… but… no matter how close he walked to the knight, Kaeya never put his hand on him again the whole way there. Last night Subject Three had been tense to his touches, but today he was starved for them.

The walk this time was made in silence, only interrupted when brief greetings had to be exchanged with the humans milling about their morning business. Kaeya’s pace was brisk, challenging for Subject Three to match on his shorter legs and leaving him a little out of breath by the time they reached the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Learning to walk in this body was hard enough, but keeping up with Kaeya really put his skills to work.

When the two arrived inside, there were already people in the main hall. One of them was the blonde woman from yesterday, the other was a woman who Subject Three hadn’t seen before. She was also tall, and looked even taller with her big purple hat. He was sure thankful he didn’t have have to wear a hat. They both turned as the doors opened. “Ah, there he is,” the unfamiliar woman said, folding her arms. “You see? You worry far too much.”

“Were you looking for us?” Kaeya asked putting a hand on his hip. “I was running a bit late this morning, I certainly didn’t mean to make the Acting Grand Master worried on my behalf.~”

“Albedo” nodded. “Sorry, we were busy,” he agreed. He could also help Kaeya cover up why they were late!

The woman in the big hat raised her eyes brows, lifting a hand to not so subtly hide her smile. “Ohhh.”

Kaeya turned to Subject Three with a slightly tight smile. “Why don’t you head to your lab now?”

“Albedo” nodded obediently and scurried up to his office to… probably hide for the rest of the day, or so he’d planned anyway.

After pacing around the room, pulling the books off the shelf, opening them, failing to make sense of the scribbles and dropping them on the floor, staring out the window, sitting at the desk, sitting on the floor, staring out the window while sitting at the desk, and poking at some of the more dangerous looking items in the room for a while, he was starting to get antsy. Staying cooped up in this room just didn’t work for him. For the most part, whatever his master had done to better placate him had accomplished its purpose quite well, although he had some adverse reactions to certain parts of coexisting with humans, he didn’t feel such a strong urge to lash out and was generally level headed enough to reason… but spending time in this room felt like it was just undoing it all.

In the end, Subject Three decided it would be best for him to do as his master instructed and take a walk out to the alchemy bench; and so, leaving the office much messier than he’d found it, he headed down the stairs and back out the doors, walking along the stone roads towards the square. As expected, standing at the alchemy bench was the plain looking man.

For a while Subject Three just stood near the railing overlooking the square, as he pondered whether the office had left him in an appropriate mental state to handle whatever conversation he’d be dragged into if he approached the bench. Still… could he really just loiter around up here? Aside from looking suspicious, he’d probably be noticed sooner or later anyway if he continued to just stand around like this. Eventually, Subject Three made the executive decision to bite the proverbial bullet and make his way around to the stairs.

Mr. Alchemy Bench hadn’t noticed him yet when he’d first descended near the building across from him, the one that smelled of food, busy talking to a lady human who was also standing at the bench. They were the least of what held Subject Three’s attention now though as walking up from the entrance were a trio of familiar faces; his master had returned! Strangely though… the one he was accompanied by was Subject One, Albedo, and he was no longer donning the appearance of the Chief Alchemist himself. Presently, he was a tall man with brown hair, long enough to be pulled back in a short pony tail; it made no difference of course, Subject Three could recognize his master right away— and that child! That was the little human he took before!

How strange, as far as Subject Three knew, this wasn’t exactly how his master had described the next stage of their plan playing out. Well, he would just have to ask him! The breath he drew to call out was cut short though when he was suddenly grabbed, one hand over his mouth and the other around his waist, yanking him back around the side of the building and out of sight- and no doubt getting a nasty ice burn in the process. After a pained hiss following Subject Three’s adverse cryo reaction to being grabbed so suddenly came Kaeya’s voice in a low whisper. “Easy now… come with me.”

Obviously Subject Three struggled, his master was back which meant their plan was supposed to move forward to the next stage… whatever that was. He needed to tell him how he’d done as he was told, without even attacking anyone!

“If you rush in now you’ll only get yourself caught… maybe even killed,~” Kaeya pointed out. “It would certainly look strange if there were suddenly two Albedos in the square, wouldn’t it?”

Subject Three finally relaxed a little in Kaeya’s hold, causing the grip on him to slacken slightly in turn. He raise a hand to pull Kaeya’s off his face. “But my master is back,” he explained.

“Your master,” Kaeya reiterated, arching a brow down at him as he tugged him further behind the building lest the trio spot them on their way to the stairs. “Do you mean to tell me that Albedo is a fake as well?”

The mimic frowned a little, shaking his head and fully turning to Kaeya now that the grip on him was loose enough. It was probably only to ensure he didn’t try to run off, but Subject Three revelled in the continued contact of Kaeya’s hand on his waist nonetheless. “That isn’t my master, the tall man with them is.”

Kaeya seemed surprised, granted Subject Three was surprised to see his master looking that way as well. “Isn’t that Joel’s father?”

“Who’s Joel?”

“The young boy with them-… his father went missing on Dragonspine while looking for the summit, he was presumed dead,” Kaeya explained.

“I don’t know about that,” Subject Three replied. “I just know that’s my master, and that’s the little human I got in trouble for taking.”

Kaeya frowned pensively. “Albedo is back and your master has a new identity, doesn’t that mean you’ve been discarded?”

Did it mean that? Just because his master chose a new approach didn’t mean there was no more plan though! “I still have to talk to him,” Subject Three stated firmly.

“Not like this,” Kaeya said even more firmly.. successfully overruling Subject Three unfortunately. “If you’d really like to speak with that man, I can facilitate a meeting between the two of you in private.~”

Even though he wasn’t that gung-ho on compromising, this seemed like a sensible approach to the matter as far as Subject Three could tell. “I… okay,” he conceded, not without a bit of a pout though. “When can I talk to him then?”

“Tonight perhaps, but you can’t keep standing in public like this. The Traveller and Paimon returned to Mondstadt last night as well and while I doubt those two would have stuck around long enough to still be here, I wouldn’t risk running into them if I were you,” Kaeya answered.

“I can’t go back to hiding in the office though,” the whopper pointed out.

“You can wait in my apartment then, if you promise to behave yourself.~ I’ll be back when my shift ends.”

Ah, he was allowed to keep staying with Kaeya? Subject Three perked up again at this. “Yes, I’ll be good,” he confirmed eagerly. Following instructions well meant rewards, that was how his master trained him initially… even if the reward was mostly lack of punishment. If he was good for Kaeya wouldn’t he also be rewarded though?

It was lucky that the building which Kaeya lived in was accessible via some side stairs and the street it was on was residential and out of the way, which kept them out of sight for the most part. Kaeya had accompanied him up just to unlock the door but headed back out immediately after, leaving Subject Three alone in the room. Another enclosed space he had to figure out how to deal with… but this time he couldn’t throw any books on the floor or Kaeya would be mad. Even though he wanted to please Kaeya similarly to his master, it wasn’t quite the same; he had to follow his master’s orders or he would be punished and maybe even killed, but for Kaeya it wasn’t because he was afraid of him… he just desperately craved the knight’s acknowledgement.

That being said, Subject Three needed to occupy himself in some way that wasn’t tearing apart Kaeya’s living space. The room with the comfy pot was where he was most familiar with so he decided to stay in there. Ideally he’d just get back in the pot and go to sleep, not having to be shaped like a human would be an amazing first step… but he was still stuck in these stupid clothes. He couldn’t even remember how Kaeya had removed them last night, a lot of things were fuzzy from last night actually. Kaeya had put them on for him this morning though… could he just do that backwards? He’d missed most of it but maybe he could still piece it together since it was fresh in his mind.

There was only one way to find out. Subject Three took a seat on the edge of Kaeya’s bed to begin. He distinctly remembered that the gloves and boots went on last, as he recalled being disappointed after thinking he might’ve gotten out of wearing them this time. With enough tugging at various parts, he managed to get one glove off, and using both his freed hand and his teeth he got the other off too. The gauntlets were still on but they didn’t bother him as much, just having the ability to feel with his hands was enough for now. The shoes were similar to the gloves, in that they mostly just involved pulling but he spent most of his time rolling on his back while he struggled to yank the things off, leaving him quite winded by the end.

The discarded items were launched ruthlessly off the bed, miraculously failing to hit anything but the floor. All of his struggling had even slipped his belt off his shoulder which left it sitting near his waist where it was catching on his dumb coat’s stupid decorations. Pulling didn’t do much to help the coat though, no matter which way he pulled, it remained caught on some part of his body. Eventually, he gave up, he was satisfied just being out of the boots and gloves, and frankly he was tired after all that struggling.

With a sigh, Subject Three flopped back onto the bed again, using his heels to push himself as he shimmied up to the pillows and— his coat moved! It slipped down his shoulders just like belt! He kept shuffling his body up until he was all the way on the pillows and his coat was almost at his elbows, allowing him to lift his arms out and push the whole thing, belt and all, past his hips and kick it right off the bed. Being in only his shirt and bottoms felt freeing in itself at this point, and he finally relaxed back into the pillow taking a long breath and… noticing… they smelled like Kaeya… he turned his face more towards the pillow he was laying on a breathed in again. They really smelled like Kaeya.

Scent wasn’t a sense he relied on much in his normal life, sight and touch were his primary means of experiencing the world as a WhopperFlower. Ever since he’d started his mission in Mondstadt he was much more aware of the smells around him, and there were so many different ones too in a way that just didn’t exist on Dragonspine. Last night though, the one scent he distinctly remembered was Kaeya and how he smelled when he’d carried Subject Three back from the Angel’s Share or how he’d smelled the same yet… a little bit different looming over him on the bed, sweat glistening on his body.

Even though the smell lingering on the pillows was making his face and body feel warm again, he just wanted to sink his face deeper into the pillows. Being surrounded by Kaeya’s scent like this felt so good to him, it made him feel like Kaeya was touching him again… or.. not exactly; it felt the way Kaeya’s hand had made him want to be touched more, and it made his breath shorten and his thighs squirm. The smell alone was making him hard in his pants but Kaeya wasn’t even here to help him, how was he supposed to find the same release? He couldn’t go looking for him when he wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment.

Subject Three whimpered into the pillows, reaching his own hand down to desperately palm the growing bulge between his legs, still trapped behind two layers of clothes he didn’t know how to get out of. It didn’t feel the same as when Kaeya did it, Kaeya’s motion were confident and deliberate, and felt so much better with nothing in between. He desperately needed some kind of friction but he didn’t know how to get it himself, he couldn’t grip his dick through his pants the way Kaeya had without them but he couldn’t pull his pants down past his hips without opening them and he was completely stumped on the button!

With a frustrated groan Subject Three rolled onto his stomach instead, pressing his face into the pillows with his arms tucked underneath them. From this angle, he found he could sort of squirm his hips against the duvet for some kind of stimulation but… it just wasn’t enough. Still, that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, desperate pants and whimpers muffled by Kaeya’s pillow left damp by his breaths. Despite the wetness seeping into the fabric of his tighter inner pants, his needy squirming and rutting against the mattress just wasn’t enough to relieve him.

By the time the sounds of a key clicking in the front door caught his attention, Subject Three had accomplished little else than reducing himself to a flushed, panting mess… and he was supposed to meet with his master this evening! Ah.. would Kaeya be mad at him? In the end he’d still been bad. In a feeble attempt to mask his state, the whopper rolled onto his back again and lifted his knees to squeeze his thighs shut as the bedroom door opened.

[mulderist]

Running Up That Hill

Rated: M || Hurt/Comfort, RST || Words: 2k+ || tagging @today-in-fic

In "Sein Und Zeit," Scully stays to comfort Mulder after he learns the truth about his mother's death. This fills in the blanks before Skinner knocks on the door the next morning. (Written for the XF Fanfic Exchange)

The gentle babble of water from the fish tank.

The rustic creak of the desk chair.

The shaky exhale of a broken man.

Her mind kept repeating the horrible words she delivered just as Mulder was trying to rationalize what happened to his mother. It was more blunt than Scully would have liked. In an instant she watched the tidal wave sweep away any sense of calm or clarity. The torrent of anger and grief beat against the fragile wall he desperately tried to maintain. He fell apart; shielded himself from her. She kneeled down and reached for him, felt her own tears prick at the corners of her eyes. His arms draped over her shoulders and she pulled him close, a hand resting on his neck to ground him. Soft lips tenderly kissed his cheek as he sobbed.

Scully traced her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, working small circles in an attempt to soothe the tension. She pressed her cheek against Mulder’s temple feeling the heat radiate off his skin. His convulsions slowed to smaller tremors. His hold on her started to loosen; strong arms that enveloped her twitched as they softened. He pushed back with eyes closed and took a much needed breath of air, a weak hand settled on her upper arm. Her palm gently moved to his damp cheek, brushing away a tear with her thumb. Mulder slowly opened his eyes and reached up to take her hand, bringing it to his lips. He endeavored to stand and Scully rose to her feet with him.

“Mulder?”

“I’m going to need a minute,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. She nodded and watched him walk to the bedroom. After he closed the door slightly a ragged exhale escaped her lips. Her shoulders shrugged off her jacket and she searched in the pocket for her phone. The device felt heavy in her hand and she quickly dialed the number with her thumb. She paced towards the entryway, hearing a single ring in her ear and the outgoing message queued up.

“This is Walter Skinner. I am unable to take your call, please leave me a message.”

*beep*

“Sir, it’s Scully,” she swallowed hard, “I’m sorry to call, I’m not really sure what time it is. But um — I’m here with Agent Mulder. He is very distraught and I really think it’s best that he step down from this case. He needs some time,” she closed her eyes and firmly pressed her lips together, “I’ll stay tonight to keep an eye on him. I’m not sure when we’ll — I’ll be at the office tomorrow.” She disconnected the call and rested the edge of the phone against her chin.

A quick survey of the living room noted an empty pizza box on the coffee table along with food wrappers and laundry on the couch that hadn’t been put away. Mulder basically came back from his mother’s house and entrenched himself in the room. Trying hard to find an explanation, waiting for her autopsy results to have proof that someone else was responsible. Scully moved to his desk and straightened up some of the items that had fallen over. Pens and pencils were placed back in a cup, sunflower seeds were brushed into a pile. As she rested a picture frame back on its easel she frowned at the sight of a brown haired girl with an innocent smile sitting on a jungle gym. Samantha. The picture used to live on Mulder’s desk and fortunately found its way home before their office fire a few years ago. Scully was suddenly overcome with sadness, her lip trembled and she fought back a sob. Her empathy for Mulder was overwhelming and she silently cried into her hands.

----

He sluggishly paced the floor in the bedroom with arms folded. He was exhausted and embarrassed. Mulder stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet feeling the water turn tepid before cupping his hands and splashing his face. He looked up at the mirror and saw the familiar puffiness under his eyes. He tugged at the lower lid and could see the network of bloodshot capillaries setting in. Mulder gripped the porcelain sink and hung his head, drops of water fell from his nose and chin into the basin. He snatched a hand towel from the ring on the wall and dried his face. A childhood memory started to play, images flickered into place like a zoetrope gaining speed. This was a memory he revisited more often than he liked. It was the summer of 1973, Rhode Island. The summer before Samantha was taken.

The house always had a familiar salty scent; it was practically baked into the wood panelling that covered the walls. Each summer seemed stronger than the last. Fox shooed his sister out of the bedroom they shared on the second floor. He wanted to finish the chapter he was reading before dinner. She stomped down the hall and down the stairs, scolding him. He heard a slam and figured she was being a brat as she went outside but then he heard his parents arguing. Fox leaned back against the pillow and tried to focus on his book. The voices got louder. He closed the novel, set it on the nightstand then went to investigate.

His hand slid along the wall as he slowly went down the steps. He stopped before reaching the landing when he heard his father shout about a choice being made. Fox crept closer, he had a partial view of the backyard through the large living room window. His mother argued back and gestured to the yard where Samantha was attempting a cartwheel. Bill stood still as Teena repeatedly beat a fist against his chest. Fox was alarmed at what he witnessed. His father simply turned and walked out of the room, his mother paused then followed to slam the door behind him and flip the lock. The house felt strangely quiet. Fox reached the last step as his mother brushed past and went out to the backyard. She stood on the deck, watching Samantha. He slowly went outside to join her. His mother stood with arms tightly folded and a distant stare. When he called out she jumped at his presence, sharply asking what he was doing there. Fox expressed concern but she brushed him off, throwing a comparison to his father then walking further into the yard. He was left to wonder why she was angry with him, looking on as she smiled and hugged Samantha tightly. Fox felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Mulder held the towel firmly against his face breathing in the clean linen scent, dissolving the memory. He then balled up the towel with a white-knuckle grip and growled as he delivered a blind punch to the bathroom door.

——

Scully sat in the leather chair near Mulder’s desk, her index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of her nose. Pinpoint pressure tried to counteract the headache forming behind her eyes. She suddenly heard a thud come from the bedroom and went to find the source. As she crossed the threshold another loud thump reverberated from behind the bathroom door.

“Mulder?” she asked, leaning an ear down to listen. There was a quick rush from the faucet before he emerged with a towel wrapped around his hand.

“Are you alright?”

“A little physical therapy,” he replied, flexing his fingers then squeezing them into his palm with a wince. “Never would have made it as a boxer.”

“Let me take a look,” she said, moving closer to take his hand. He released his grip as she slid the damp towel away. “Oh Mulder,” her brow furrowed at the angry skin across his knuckles. In the dim light she knew the abrasion would look worse tomorrow. She grazed her thumb over the tops of his fingers and she felt the slightest squeeze. Mulder then pulled away and went to sit on the bed. Scully turned to the bathroom and searched his medicine cabinet for an antiseptic. Luckily he wised up to her insistence of keeping a rudimentary first aid kit. She told him once that she couldn’t be a night nurse all the time, which resulted in a playful pout.

The sharp smell of alcohol pierced his nostrils as he watched Scully dab a cotton ball against his knuckles.

“It was stupid. I know.”

“I wasn’t going to say a damn thing,” she said, adjusting her position next to him. He sighed deeply and shook his head.

“I can’t stop looking, Scully.”

“You can’t, or won’t?” It was a soft-spoken honest question but Mulder didn’t want to answer it. He bristled and took back his hand then rose from the bed. “Don’t do this,” she cautioned, looking up at him.

“Why not,” he replied, then walked out of the bedroom. She quickly stood and followed him. He moved through the living room and went to the kitchen, searching for a bottle of vodka he had stashed on a shelf. Scully joined him right as he was pouring a glass.

“I was thinking,” he began after a beat, “my mother never got closure. She just had to live with the decision that she and my father made all those years ago.” He took a long drink and continued. “I wonder if she just assumed Samantha was dead. Made herself believe it so she could move on. I can’t do that, Scully, I can’t just move on. I need that closure. I need to know I’ve done all I can to find out what happened to her.” Mulder finished off the glass and poured another. Scully saw the turmoil on his face, he stared at the tumbler and gripped it tightly. His tongue slowly dragged against his lower lip, pulling it into his teeth. He tipped back the short glass feeling the burn from the vodka coat his throat.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kid, what her parents are going through. Amber Lynn deserves better. Her parents deserve better.” He reached for the bottle and doubled the amount from the previous pour. “Mom thought I could help, she wanted me to help these people. She had given up.” Mulder rambled in a soft voice then took a sip. The sense of defeat was choking the air in the already congested kitchen. “I never called her back. She called when I was out in California and I said I would talk to her later; but I never did.”

Scully brushed at her cheeks, an ache stung her chest as she remembered the last voicemail she left for Melissa. She came to Mulder’s side and placed her hand over his, easing it down to the counter and taking the glass. He watched her kiss the rim and finish off the vodka without even a tic. She moved closer, arms finding a familiar hold around his waist. Scully searched for something to say but knew it would fall on deaf ears. There was warmth from his hand on her back, fingers splayed as he encouraged her to move even closer. She felt a little selfish seeking his comfort when he was on an emotional razor’s edge.

“I’m so sorry, Mulder,” she finally said into his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in her ear. She felt his hand move up to the back of her neck, gently lacing his fingers in her hair. His head dipped down to rest next to hers. Scully pushed back and met his tired gaze, mist clouded her vision until a flutter of eyelashes released a tear down her cheek. There was a shine to his hazel eyes as he searched her face; seeking that touchstone, that totem, that knowledge that he would be okay. He bent closer and kissed her, the taste of alcohol lingered on her lips. She kissed back without hesitation, not wanting to break the gossamer thread that drew them together. Grief and loss were motivators, driving two souls faster into each other’s arms.

Hands traced familiar paths but triggered new sensations. Primal arousal swirled like a maelstrom and the worn leather couch was a safe harbor. Mulder needed to feel skin on skin and his hand slid underneath her shirt, grazing across her taut abdomen. Scully arched her back as she tugged his soft t-shirt, releasing it from the waist of his jeans. Their lips met again leading the way for tongues to mingle and dance. She wanted to help him forget. Her hands began to undo her pants, inching them down over the curve of her hips. Mulder pressed back and fumbled with his jeans. He balanced on one knee sinking lower into the couch cushion and watched her slide back, a fiery aura glowed in the dim light of the room. Before he could think, she was on top of him; hot breath against the side of his neck, arms framed the side of his face as her body pressed against his. He met the rhythm of her hips.

“Use me to forget,” she whispered. He moaned at the request, pressing fingertips harder into her soft curves. Skin to skin. Romance would come another time, tonight played host to half-dressed biological urges desperately seeking a release. Her knees clamped tightly to his sides as a shudder rolled down her body; pain and pleasure written on her face. Leather stretched underneath them, friction caused a deeper patina to the vintage cushions.

“Fuck me, Mulder,” her voice broke as the threshold reached its maximum. His nails dug into her lower back, her teeth gnashed at his earlobe as his momentum increased. Short, ragged breath was shared between them. Syllables bounced around but couldn’t form words. Scully gasped and bit her lower lip as the dam broke. She was overcome, tears streamed down her face while he reached the peak. He cried out as he came, one final deep thrust. Her hand covered her eyes trying to control herself.

“I’m sorry. God I’m sorry, Scully,” he weakly pleaded as he kissed her damp cheeks and stroked her hair. His own emotions bubbled to the surface.

“It’s alright. It’s okay, it’s okay,” she managed to say through tears. Shame washed over him pulling him into an undertow and he sat up to hold her close, shifting her into his lap. She sobbed against his shoulder, empathy taking over once again. His strong embrace could have shattered her like a porcelain doll. She held him just as tightly.

----

The bedroom was their quiet sanctuary. After cleaning up, Scully adjusted the bedclothes and guided him to the side of the bed. He laid down first, leaving room for her to curl up beside him. His arm draped over her waist catching the rise and fall of her form. She held his hand, placing a gentle kiss on his fingers.

Darkness allowed nightmares to invade his mind. Drenched in sweat he trembled next to her. Moans and cries caused her to stir. She reached for his shoulder, took him out of the midnight visions. Her voice comforted him and told him he was safe with her in his bed. This continued well into the night. She felt him get out of bed and heard the click of the bathroom door. The faucet ran as he coughed deeply, followed by the flush of the toilet. She lay on her back, waiting for him to return. When he crawled back into bed smelling of mint mouthwash, she gently rested her head on his chest.

Dawn arrived all too soon and just as she felt sleep was finally at hand, sunrise brought an unwelcome knock on the door. She ignored it at first, nuzzling back into the pillow that held his scent. He breathed peacefully beside her. The knock repeated. Scully shifted under Mulder’s arm and slipped out of bed, padding out to see who the culprit was. A flip of the lock and a turn of the knob open the door to Skinner standing on the doorstep. Scully then recalled the voicemail she left several hours ago. There were a thousand words he could have strung together when he saw her but he settled on the easiest one.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly when he noticed her disheveled hair and work shirt. She blinked and stood firm with her hand bracing the door.

“Hi,” she echoed.

“How is he?”

“It’s been a rough night for him,” her voice was raspy with the tones of early morning. Skinner had his own theories but immediately boxed them up when he saw the exhausted look on her face. Scully was fiercely protective of her partner and she knew he was there to talk about the LaPierre case. Her expression matched the concern in her voicemail that she really didn’t want Mulder involved. Right on cue Mulder entered the room, hovering close to Scully’s side. Skinner said that the LaPierre’s were asking to meet with him and that he booked plane tickets for later that morning. Mulder wordlessly nodded and retreated to the bedroom leaving Scully to request an additional ticket out to the west coast.

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)​

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<-- Previous - Next -->

Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened. 

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

><

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!” 

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze. 

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and  authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

><

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

><

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker. 

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that. 

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,��� replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

><><><><><><><><

A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

[thecandywrites]

The Beginning of Stormbreaker Part 2

So cute. 

Part 2

Rhosland woke up just before sunrise, bright eyed and energized and couldn’t wipe the giddy smile off her face if she tried as she and her twin sister left right at sunrise just as their mother finished baking the overnight bread, and also conveniently just after Drad and Sarg came and delivered more “gifts” to them, Sarg gave Esri a fishing net and fishing lures and lines along with a big set of big baskets so they could keep the fish and whatever else they foraged together as Drad gave each of them the stone timber axes, and a large, thick quilt blanket, so large it would cover three bedrolls. Each square was stuffed with cotton, wool and down feathers so that each square was puffy in the quilt so that they would not get cold in their tent just in case the bitter cold of fall and winter came early, which the girls happily took and hugged those men goodbye as Drad and Sarg helped push as the girls pulled their rowboat to the biggest stream as the women rowed their little boat down the stream that cut through the village, underneath all the bridges  and soon were out to sea before they rowed it north towards Hurricane Breaker until they found the estuary between Skull Screamer Clan and Hurricane Breaker and rowed upstream, happily finding all kinds of fish and seafood in the creeks before they found the perfect camping spot right on the edge of a forest next to a fallen tree that was the perfect bench height and set up camp and ate the fish they were able to easily catch for breakfast with their bread that thier mother had sent them with. 

“So you must have had really good dreams last night, you won’t stop smiling.” Esri teased her sister even though she was in a similar state. 

“I did,” Rhos nodded. 

“Well go on, tell me about them.” Esri requested as she scooted closer to her sister as they sat on a fallen log by their camp fire since they had pulled the little row boat up on shore and the log had been covered in wild, edible mushrooms which the girls readily cut off and were in the process of drying them to preserve them while eating a few of them, cooked in their pot over the fire with their breakfast since one of their bride gifts from the clan had been a few logs of smoked and preserved fat as they had sliced off a few pieces of the cow and hog fat and fried the mushrooms in that in their pot which only made the mushrooms taste even more meatlike. 

“I had a dream that Drad came back from the raid and claimed me as his wife instead of Tar and we built the most perfect house together and we had so many kids and we were just...so happy. And it’s like my intuition is telling me that it will come true.” Rhosland whispered, afraid that if she said it too loudly it would tempt the fates and not come true. 

“That’s funny, because I had a similar dream about Sarg.” Esri beamed. 

“Oooh, and?” Rhos giggled. 

“Oh, very good, I had a dream we sailed out to sea on this big sailing ship and that rocking of the boat made the rutting so much better.” Esri giggled in turn.

“Do you think it will come true?” Rhosland asked. 

“It better! Cause my mind and heart keep telling me it will come true, plus they were both there to see us off and got us both gifts to help us on this hunting and gathering trip and just hugging Sarg this morning felt...amazing.” She insisted with a wistful sigh. 

“Me too, but with Drad obviously.” Rhosland confirmed as the girls continued to eat to their satisfaction for the first time in a long time. 

“Come on, I have a good feeling that we will kill some deer today, we should build a smoker to smoke the meat.” Rhos suggested as they used their new axes and chopped down a good stone timber tree and other kinds of trees and began building a really good smoker out of the wood before they fashioned the bigger baskets to hang off of their hips and immediately started finding all kinds of wild edible berries, cattails and other wild edible plants, edible mushrooms all around them and so many different kinds of herbs for seasoning and medicine and even an abandoned bee hive full of combs, thick with honey which they gladly took all of it that they could reach and harvest before they shot down a couple of deer and drug the deer back to camp and immediately got to work dressing them and putting their meat in the smoker and tanning their hides and then used the net and caught a bunch of fish, gutted and cleaned them and put those in the smoker too. 

It was single handedly the best day they had ever spent gathering because this spot had an overabundance for them and they quickly had to use the dried grasses to make bushel sized baskets for all that they harvested since all the baskets that they had packed were now full as they sat on the log, watching the gorgeous red sunset and just about the time they got done weaving their new baskets and organizing everything into those baskets and put it all inside the tent just as the sun went down- a very thick fog came in from the sea with a chill and settled over them as Rhos and Esri both instinctively went into their tent and rested and for dessert, dined on the honey that they dipped their wild berries into before falling into a restful, sweet sleep, curled up under the wonderfully big, thick, and supremely warm blanket that kept the cold completely off of them as suddenly the winds kept changing in the most bizarre way, blowing in different directions so that it felt like it was blowing in from all sides and picking up speed, making the smoke of their fires take up an odd pattern within the fog itself before it blew in heavily towards from the west again, inland from the sea.   

Meanwhile Tar was disappointed that “his Rosey” had already left for a hunting and gathering trip, so he couldn’t try to lay with her real quick before the raid, he was celebrating as if he had already had a successful raid and noticed that a thick fog blew in that evening but that didn’t deter him or his father or the rest of his family. The next morning, the fog was still excessively thick. So much so that they could barely see the road from their houses but Zash and his sons felt confident in their ability to still use their inner compass and that the fog would conceal them and that they would attack the Rush Fang Clan completely by surprise and it would guarentee their victory over them and set off with their men that morning and disappeared into the unusually thick fog while Orcoth had promised Sarg and Drad that he would keep a careful watch over their mother Grat and Rhos’ and Esri’s mother Shari and assured both women that they would see their children again soon as the three of them kept to themselves as Grat invited Shari to stay with her while her daughters would be away so the two would not get lonely which Shari greatly appreciated as Grat also invited Orcoth to stay as well, to play games and enjoy each other’s company since Grat’s house that Wolvish had built her was still big enough to fit all of them comfortably. 

However- Zash and his sons got hopelessly lost and turned around several times, not even recognizing their own walking paths in the tall grass in the thick fog that soon enveloped them and their raiding party as Zash and his sons were adamant that the fog would clear and that they would find Rush Fangs and ignored and rebuked and rebutted any who had left signs along their path to show that they had been walking in circles before Zash felt confident that he was turning Southeast, when in fact, he was turned Northwest and heading straight towards the much bigger and more fearsome Hurricane Breaker. 

And when the fog did partially clear, they found Hurricane Breaker, their bright golden bronze breast plates glinting in what little sunlight finally was able to push through. Whose shaman had sensed that they were coming and were ready for them and were outnumbering them twenty to one as Drad and Sarg both looked worriedly at each other when they saw that their comparatively smaller raiding party was completely surrounded before the fog quickly enveloped them all again as the clash of warriors played out as Drad did everything in his power to keep Sarg by his side after he saw Tar and everyone in Tar’s family fall to the ground dead from the fatal blows, before he smelled...smoking venison with a hint of smoking fish as the words of his new adopted father Orcoth replayed in his head but it was like he was the only one who could smell it and by this point Sarg and Drad were both injured, almost fatally so and knocked off their horses, as Drad took Sarg on his injured side while Sarg did the same, pushing their injured sides together so they could use their good sides to manage to get out of there and Drad followed his nose in the smell, as the scent itself seemed to be in a wiggly pattern but the wiggly pattern helped both of them avoid the other warriors of Hurricane Breaker as the fog itself was so thick they could barely see their hands in front of their faces but kept them practically invisible as Drad continued to slowly and as quietly as possible, follow the smells as Drad could pick up more on the scent of smoking venison while Sarg could smell the scent of smoking fish stronger as they both followed the same trail of scents until the scent led them out of the warzone and the father away they got, the lighter the fog became so that they could see more and smell more and by now, the scent was very strong and it gave them hope that they were close as they both hobbled towards it and just as the fog thinned out even more, they saw a camp sight, just as Rhosland and Esri were leaving a tent and Drad had never thought Rhosland looked more beautiful in his life. 

“Drad?” Rhos asked when she and her sister were brave enough to leave their tent when they woke up to the sounds of a battle as their instincts told them to stay in the tent because it sounded like it was very close by before the sounds faded as if the war zone was traveling farther and farther away before they ventured out, only to be met with the sight of Drad and Sarg, both trying to hold up the other and trying to walk despite their injuries. 

“Rhosland! Help me!” Drad called out to her as she and Esri quickly dropped their axes and ran towards them and helped them back into their tent as a pop up thunderstorm came and started raining and washing Drad and Sarg’s bloody trail away before moving towards the east on the western wind again as Rhosland and Esri both got to work cleaning and dressing Drad and Sarg’s wounds with the herbs that they had found and were turning them into poultices.

“What are you doing here? I thought you guys were supposed to be raiding Rush Fang.” Rhos asked worriedly as she worked on stabilizing Drad’s wounds and to stop him from bleeding out right there in their tent, calling on all of her medical knowledge she had acquired up until that point to help her do so.

“We lost our way in the fog, got turned around several times over but Zash and his sons wouldn’t listen to anyone about it and the fog was so thick, we couldn’t tell where the sun was, let alone where we were going.” Drad answered in staggered breaths. 

“The fog was so thick we couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces and Zash wouldn’t hear of any objections to waiting until the fog cleared to go raiding because they were sure that the fog would help us, instead of hinder us.” Sarg added as he hissed and then grunted and whimpered as Esri set his arm back into place then used a piece of wood and a strip of cloth from her skirts to tie it off to keep it straight as she then used her fishing line to sew up the bigger wounds after cleaning them off through the poultices and their left over cleaned water that they had boiled to make tea with as Rhos was doing the same to Drad’s ankle that he had somehow rolled and twisted. 

“So how did that turn out?” Rhosland asked. 

“I watched as Zash and all of his sons fell, their heads rolling away from their bodies. It was only the smoke of your smoking the venison that I smelled that I followed that saved us, I don’t know if anyone else will survive.” Drad answered honestly as he was hissing and biting back curses as Rhos was doing her best to heal him and set his ankle right and stitch up his bloody leg that had been hacked almost to the bone as she tried to put the blood vessels and veins back together as she pushed them together and stitched it shut.  

“The venison.” Rhos and Esri both said in unison as they realized that that scent could lead Hurricane Breaker to them too before they heard hoof beats in the distance. 

“Don’t make a sound.” Rhos and Esri both breathed in a whisper to Sarg and Drad before they quickly left the tent and took the fishing net and ran towards the river to wash the blood off their clothes before they were surrounded by a group of shield maidens only moments after the blood washed away from them and their campsite and was carried downstream, the blood dissolving completely into the river. Once they saw that Rhos and Esri were unarmed but simply in water up to their chests and barely grunt sized orcs, they assumed that Esri and Rhosland were younglings, barely subadults, struggling with a fishing net as they came to the conclusion that Rhos and Esri posed no threat whatsoever and noticed the axes were purely for cutting down trees, not warfare and thus, they were unarmed which put them at ease. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The captain Tilge, a shieldmaiden herself demanded. 

“My name is Rhosland and this is my twin sister Esri, we are on a hunting and gathering trip, we are from the Skull Screamer Clan, but we didn’t see any markers on this land and thought this was unclaimed and neutral land, did we miss a marker or something?” Rhosland asked innocently enough. 

“No, this is unclaimed and neutral land, because mosquitoes and malaria are thick here. So you should be careful. But are you aware that the Skull Screamer Clan attacked us?” Tilge asked them. 

“Who’s us? I assume you’re talking about Hurricane Breaker? Skull Screamer was not supposed to attack you, everyone knows you are much bigger and fiercer clan than even Typhoon Breaker, Zash and his raiding party were supposed to raid Rush Fang which is in the Southeast, that’s what Zash and all his sons were talking about in the great hall two days ago when we left Skull Screamer to come here to go on our fall hunting and gathering trip, we specifically chose this spot because it was in the opposite direction they were supposed to be headed, you can ride to Skull Screamer now and ask our mother, Shari- she is a widow and has no husband or son to raid so that just leaves my sister and I to take care of her, she lives in the mud and mud brick hut right on the outskirts of town. If Skull Screamer came against you, the only thing I can think of is that they must have gotten lost in the fog, once the fog came in from the sea, my sister and I took shelter in our tent and we’ve only come out once we heard the roar of the fight die down.” Rhos explained nonchalantly as Tilge could tell by the way Rhosland was speaking along with her body language that she was speaking truth and trusted her words. 

“We are Hurricane Breaker, and my name is Captain Tilge, and you’re correct. Skull Screamer did attack us and they were clearly lost and must have been out of their minds to do so. Have you seen any of your warriors come towards you? Because the scent of the smoking venison is what brought us to you.” Tilge answered.  

“No, only you, at least so far.” Esri answered as she and Rhosland both shook their heads no with a shrug as they focused on getting the net into position to try and catch something in the water. 

“So since we pose no threat, might we be friends? The fish that we caught earlier should be done smoking by now, would you like some?” Rhosland asked as she and her sister managed to catch a school of fish in their net before they came up on shore, dragging their catch behind them in the net so that Tilge and the other shieldmaidens could see that they were small, still developing and obviously young and far from dangerous. 

“Yes, thank you.” Tilge smiled as she and her group dismounted and let the horses graze nearby as they all took a seat on the big log by the fire as Esri and Rhosland took out the now smoked fish and the smaller pieces of smoked venison replaced them with the new fish they caught after quickly gutting them and gave the shieldmaidens the smoked fish and the smaller pieces of smoked venison as they all enjoyed a nice impromptu meal, using the big, broad leaves of a nearby plant as plates as Esri and Rhosland were sharing what they had gathered so far and casually picked up their stone timber axes and let them lean against the log, between them and the tent and sat with the shield maidens, and felt an uncommon ease and calm in their beings so as not to give any suspicion that they were hiding anything. 

As they shared a meal, Tilge and her other shieldmaidens began sharing with Esri and Rhosland more secrets about the land that they were on, about where to find good mushrooms and what they looked like and what they tasted like and herbs and especially where to find the best shellfish which was in the biggest river more north, closer to Hurricane Breaker as Tilge promised Rhos and Esri that they would tell the rest of the army and the clan that Rhos and Esri were here and to leave them alone and to give them a wide berth in order so that they could hunt successfully and take care of their widowed mother and that they meant no harm which Rhos and Esri greatly appreciated. 

Tilge even told Rhos how there was a wild rose bush nearby that should be blooming and a special group of trees that had special nuts that were very oily, that they called Butternut because once you ate the delicious fruit and found the big nut inside, and crushed and ground up the nuts into a paste and cooked the nut paste, their oil would come pouring out and once it got skimmed the oil from the paste and the oil got cold and solidified, it looked like butter and it was really great for making soap with and that they could make wild rose soap with it since that’s what Tilge and the other women in Hurricane Breaker did when they wanted to smell nice and also found the wild citronella weed and told them about the five other bee hives around them that they could get honey and then use the wax from the hives and the crushed up citronella into an oil to make a special candle that would keep the mosquitoes away too before they told Rhos and Esri about the old cursed cave made of stone that was nearby that was most definitely haunted and not to go anywhere near there and Rhos gave Tilge one of the pearl necklaces she was wearing to signify their friendship and alliance that Tilge happily accepted as Esri gave Tilge one of her carved shell totem bracelets as Tilge gave them a citronella candle to keep them safe from the mosquitos and the malaria that the mosquitos carried and agreed to the alliance as well before Tilge and her warband of shieldmaidens left in peace and happiness with full bellies as the fog soon fully lifted and cleared as they went back to the warzone to pillage from the fallen as those who didn’t fall had run home to tell everyone else the news of the defeat as Rhos and Esri came back into the tent.

“Thank you so much, you handled them perfectly, I doubt they suspected a thing.” Drad thanked Rhosland once she came back in to see him sitting there, with his weapons in hand just in case Tilge and her shield maidens had poked their noses into the tent and once he saw that it was Rhos and Esri, he and his brother put their weapons down and off to the side.  

“You’re welcome, how are you feeling?” She asked.

“Much better, those herbs are helping so much, they’re taking most of the pain away. We would have been lost for sure without you. Thank you.” Drad thanked her.

“You’re welcome.” Rhos offered as she continued to dress his remaining wounds as Drad and his brother tried to take off their broken armor and most of their clothes so that their many wounds could be attended to before Drad got into his pack and gave Rhosland the rose scented soap. 

“For you.” He said as he offered it to her as she took it and unwrapped it and smiled when the wonderful scent soon bloomed in their tent as she could clearly see the dried pink rose petals in the soap itself. 

“Rose scented soap.” Rhos smiled and couldn’t help but laugh before she used it to help clean his wounds so that they wouldn’t get dirty as the cloth it was wrapped in made the best wash cloth, soft and fine enough to wash the wounds without ripping or damaging them.  

“Thank you.” Rhos offered as she was cleaning off his back. 

“You were supposed use it on yourself though.” Drad offered even though the scent was heavenly and having her dress his wounds was surprisingly intimate this time since it was just the four of them. 

“I will, but your wounds need to be cleaned first, I can’t lose you to infection or gangrene.” Rhos gently countered.  

“If I survived an unwitting attack on Hurricane Breaker, I doubt anything can ever take me from you from now on.” Drad managed to say as Esri’s jaw was on the floor of the tent as she looked to Rhos who was frozen again, but instead of it being fear, it was just pleasant surprise before Rhos simply smiled and leaned forward and pulled him back so he was leaning against her chest and pulled his face to the side and claimed his mouth with her own as her answer as that seemed to settle the matter before she had him sit back up so she could finish cleaning him up as she brushed off any dirt or debris from the bed so he could lay back down and rest as Esri had done the same since the bedrolls were side by side before she got out and went to gather more water before she heard Esri’s giggle before Esri came back out. 

“And?” Rhos asked as they came back to the river to get fresh water and dump the now dirty water away.  

“And my dream came true, just like yours did.” Esri giggled as they got their new empty baskets and went over to the bigger river with the net and found it was teaming with giant mussels, scallops, clams, little lobsters and crabs and other shellfish as both girls used their hunting knives to knock the mussels free from where they were anchored and put them in the baskets that were now practically overflowing before they found a giant catfish in a hole in the water and caught it and killed it and dragged it towards their camp site and started cleaning them up.

When they opened the giant clams and mussels and found all of the mussels completely laden with all these huge, beautiful, bright pearls of all colors but mostly of gold, peacock, black, purple, pink and blue pearls, pink pearls were a sign of passion, but also the deeper the pink and the closer to red, meant signs for a male child, made in love and passion. Purple pearls were was a sign of prosperity and wealth of resources like food, clothing and shelter, gold pearls meant tangible wealth, like gold and other riches. Peacock pearls meant multifaceted protection and care, especially between a bonded pair. Blue pearls were a sign of wisdom and insight, black pearls meant independence and strength, as even most of the clams had pearls too as both girls happily took them and quickly put all the pearls into their pockets which were threatening to overflow before tossing the meat in the pot to cook up a seafood stew again, using what was left of the herbs as flavoring and the other smoked fish to make a good broth before they loaded up their bowls and brought it inside to Drad and Sarg gratefully ate it and sucked it down but refused to eat any more until the girls had their fill which Rhos and Esri appreciated as they did and Drad and Sarg happily ate the rest as Rhos and Esri washed all the pearls that had been in them before they each presented the biggest and finest of the pearls to Drad and Sarg so they wouldn’t have to go home empty handed which Drad and Sarg happily agreed to accept before the girls brought the deer hides into the entrance of the tent to sleep on those so that Drad and Sarg could continue to sleep on their bed rolls comfortably while the large blanket was barely big enough to fit over the four of them sleeping like that. 

“Drad?” Rhos whispered once Sarg and Esri had fallen asleep and were softly snoozing. 

“Yeah?” He answered, keeping his voice to a whisper too.  

“How did you know to follow the scent of smoking venison?” Rhos asked. 

“Rhos, I care for you enough to never lie to you.” Drad began. 

“I trust you enough to know that you never would either.” Rhos answered as Drad smiled as softly as Rhos did the same in the darkness. 

“Two nights ago, right after we parted from the marsh, an old shaman by the name of Orcoth came into the village, he was hobbling and obviously in pain as he walked and I helped him, I took him to my home and he gave me that rose scented soap and he said that it was what I had promised to give you in my heart which only a shaman with great magic could have discerned that, even though I had wanted to give you more than just one bar, I had wanted to get you a whole case but just that one bar was all I needed at the moment and he told me that the day of the raid, that it would be so foggy that I wouldn’t be able to find my way, but that the scent of smoking venison would, and that if I followed the scent, I would find salvation. And that’s exactly what happened. Zash and all of his sons were arguing and bickering the whole time and our whole party got turned around several times so that we didn’t know what way was up and the others were getting irritated by the confusing leadership and then when the fog cleared up partially, it revealed that we were completely surrounded and outnumbered at least twenty to one and then the fog closed in on us as did Hurricane Breaker. And I was just swinging blindly before I got knocked off my horse as did Sarg and once I was on the ground I just kept trying to keep Sarg at my back and when we both got partially cut down, I caught the whiff of your smoking venison and Orcoth’s words were called back to my mind and so Sarg and I followed the scent of the venison, it had the most bizarre route in the fog but in hindsight, the route kept us out of sight and sound of the rest of Hurricane Breaker and just as the scent got strongest and straightened out, we were far away from the warzone and when the fog partially lifted, we were here.” Drad confessed as Rhos remembered the wind in the fog the night before and how the wind had seemed to come in from all sides as she realized now, that it was fate, that even when Zash and Tar led their raiding party astray, that Orchoth knew how to save Drad and knew that because Drad had been so kind and hospitable, that- that, is what saved his life and Sarg’s life and led them straight to Esri and herself. And only a shaman with the gift of true prophecy would have been able to predict that. 

“Well when we get back, I’ll have to meet him and thank him for giving you a prophecy that saved not just your life but Sarg’s as well which I know Esri would be lost without him.” Rhos offered. 

“You will, we adopted each other. He said he had already lost all of his sons and readily adopted me and I- him, after he gave me the soap and told me about today.” He answered. 

“Do you think anyone else in Zash’s raiding party made it?” Rhos asked thoughtfully. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” Drad answered. 

“Well I hope Shadi and Baka have sons then, because otherwise Skull Screamer will be leaderless.” Rhos pointed out tiredly as Drad realized she had a point and realized that if Sarg and himself could get back and as long as no one else in Zarsh’s personal warband had lived, since Drad was himself second in command to Tar who was first born, that he was now the highest ranking survivor and they could claim the status of Warchief and Warlord of the clan and Orcoth would be the clan’s shaman since the other had been killed since Zash had taken his own with him and had died right alongside him.  

Drad realized he could actually start a new clan, with whatever was left of Skull Screamer and whoever else wanted to join, with Rhos as his wife and warchieftess, his one and only. Even if Shadi and Baka ruled in Tar’s place until their sons grew of age. He could start his own clan. All he needed was a name. It needed to be big and grand and fill those who were part of it- with confidence. And those who weren’t, with fear. Something not at all realated to Skull Screamer but something Breaker. Hurricane Breaker was already taken. So was Typhoon Breaker. So...storm? Stormbreaker? Yes. Stormbreaker, that sounded right in his head as he smiled happily and fell asleep to a dream like fantasy of being Clan Chief or even a Warchief, of Rhos being his Clan Chieftess or even Warchieftess and felt confident that it would work, all he need to do was heal, which judging by the way his wounds were already healing faster with Rhos’ medicine than they normally would was the best sign that she would continue to heal him and care for him.

[bunwritesstuff]

Creepy Crawlies

hello !! this is my first official writing piece for this blog :0 exciting. this is kinda like a test piece to see how i feel posting on here, but i hope yall read it and enjoy either way! fic is under the banner :]

fandom: omori

word count: 1,317

content warning(s): brief mentions of a bug, nothing graphic

characters included: mari, sunny, and aubrey (kel and hero are mentioned but not present)

synopsis: mari, sunny and aubrey are walking to school, and sunny gets distracted by a bug. it gives mari a silly little idea. (small spoiler ->) this is a fic based off when mari admits that she used to put bugs in hero's desk! this is just the first part, i might publish the second part in a post after this !! also i got like halfway through writing this and realized basil is just not there, so say this takes place during a time before basil was properly introduced to the group :]

“Sunny, be careful! You shouldn't touch an icky thing like that!”

Mari was torn from her thoughts at the sound of Aubrey’s distressed squeals a few feet ahead. Pulling her attention to her brother and their friend, Mari noted how Sunny was crouched to the ground, facing her. He must’ve turned back around to get a better look at whatever caught his attention. His expression was drawn into one of interest, mouth slightly agape and eyes widened in awe. There, almost directly under his gaze, was a bug. That's what Mari assumed anyways, it was hard to tell given how far away he and Aubrey were. Aubrey was standing even further back, nose scrunched up in disgust with hands balled into small fists at her sides. It was almost like she was ready for the bug to lunge at Sunny, that way she’d have an excuse to stomp on it. Or something to that degree, anyways.

The older girl quickened her pace a bit to catch up with the kids. Hero and Kel would have normally been walking with them, but when Mari and Sunny showed up at their house to get them, Hero had to inform them that Kel was having stomach issues. He reassured them that they'd catch up later, and that he was going to try and talk his parents into letting Kel just stay home for today. Hero didn't want to risk making everyone late by having them all wait, so he ushered them off. Today it was just Mari, Sunny, and Aubrey. 

It didn’t take long for Mari to slow down in front of Sunny and his newfound fascination, which was in fact, a bug: a beetle of some kind, walking around in almost dizzying circles. It was pretty amusing how interested Sunny was in the creature, as if bugs like this weren’t fairly common. Sunny wasn't a very expressive kid, so moments where he managed to convey clearly how he was feeling were wonderful, whether it was intentional or not.

“Is everything okay?” Mari asked, her tone gentle as she brought her gaze up from Sunny and the beetle to the shorter girl in pink.

“It… it's so big and ugly! Sunny’s sitting so close to it, what if it bites him or something? He could get hurt!” Aubrey immediately expressed, bouncing on her toes to get some of her concerned and worked up energy out. The brunette was never one to really hold back how she was feeling, it was honestly pretty admirable of her to be able to get it all out. Then again, It would be pretty easy to envy an elementary schooler for their lack of filter, wouldn’t it? 

“You make some very compelling points, Aubrey,” Mari started, shooting the younger a soft smile as she knelt down across from Sunny. “However, I don’t think this bug is very big, ugly, or aggressive. If it was an aggressive bug, surely it would’ve tried to attack us by now, don’t you think?”

The silence that followed was enough to answer that question.

“While you may think this bug is big and scary, could you imagine being this little guy? We must be even bigger, louder creatures.”

“Well, yeah! But…”

“But?”

“I…” Aubrey brought her bouncing to a slow stop as she took in Mari’s words. With some hesitance, she took a few steps forward, peeking over Sunny’s shoulder to get a better look at the beetle. Just as Mari said, it was much smaller than she initially made it out to be, and it hadn’t made any moves to attack. It was just a little guy taking a buggy stroll. Aubrey felt her fists begin to unclench as she relaxed, and eventually let out a quiet sigh. “I guess it isn’t so bad… it’s kinda cute, actually.” 

The other girls in her class would’ve screamed and made a fuss like she did, so she wondered why Mari didn’t react that way. Mari always knew just the right things to say, always so calm and collected. It was something Aubrey really liked about her. With her and Sunny both more curious about the bug rather than fearing it, it helped sway Aubrey’s opinion on it to be a more positive one. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mari starting to stand up, brushing off her skirt.

“I agree! It is pretty cute. But if this is settled, what do you say we finish making our way to school, okay? If you guys make it in time, you might be able to have a few minutes of free time before class starts.”

At the idea of having some extra free time, Aubrey perked back up and nodded eagerly. “Okay, Mari!” Leaning down a little, she put her hand on Sunny’s shoulder to get his attention. “C’mon, Sunny! We’ve gotta get going!”

It took a moment, but Sunny quietly stood up at the second reminder. He took one last moment to watch the beetle before stepping back from it and looked up at Mari and Aubrey. Aubrey took her hand off of his shoulder and instead reached down to take his hand, hoping he didn’t mind. He didn't offer much of a reaction, so she decided she was in the clear. “C’mon!” She giggled again, turning around and starting to pull him along with her down the sidewalk. 

“Don’t go too far ahead without me,” Mari reminded the kids as they started to wander off, but the request fell upon ears that were not listening anymore. Ah, well… at least she could still see them. Not that Mari didn’t trust them, Aubrey knew better than to go too far, and if Sunny felt unsafe he’d turn around and come back to Mari. Everything would be okay. Despite this, Mari still wished that Hero were here. He always knew how to keep everyone in the group together. He could get through to Aubrey in a way that not even Mari seemed to be able to, even if he doubted that he could.

Mari adjusted the straps of her backpack and was about to start walking again when that silly beetle caught her attention once again. With Hero on her mind, she was reminded of how bugs made him squeamish. If he and Kel were here, and the group got sidetracked by this beetle, Hero would be quite a ways ahead of the group, not wanting to give the little guy a second glance. The association bridging this bug to Hero did leave Mari to wonder: would it be mean to play a small, harmless prank on him?

Was it cruel of her to even consider pulling a prank on her friend? To lean back down, quickly scoop up the beetle, and tuck it away in her sweatshirt pocket? Was it cruel that she was kind of looking forward to Hero’s expression going from confusion, to processing, to fear all within the same moment? Well, maybe it was! He didn’t have to know it was her who did it, after all. It’ll just be her little secret. She wouldn’t do it every day, that’d be too sudden and suspicious! But every now and then wouldn’t hurt, right? 

His fear of bugs was understandable, but surely he’d grow out of it eventually. They were already in middle school after all! Most kids grew out of their bug fearing phase by then, didn't they? Mari decided that having to face an occasional bug would help him overcome his fear… right? Well, she wasn’t sure it would definitely work, but until it either worked or she got bored of doing it, his reactions would surely be priceless.

With that in mind, and her hand still in her pocket to keep the beetle from escaping, she hurried along to try and catch up with Aubrey and Sunny. This morning would surely be an interesting one.

part 1/2 (end)

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) chaabar STAR WARS

He can’t breathe.

Tucked inside the darkest corner of the maintenance closet, 7567 knots his fingers into pale blond curls and pulls, trying to ground himself as he wheezes. Tears are hot on his bruised cheek, and it makes the swollen skin sting - Trainer Reau must have split the skin open with her gauntlet when she’d punched him - but, not ever the pain of the injury can distract the young cadet from his panic.

Eights is gone. Eights is gone, he’s been taken away for decommissioning, and 7567 is afraid. He’s next, he knows this, because he’s the only one left to take. He’s the mutant, the mistake, and he knows too well what the Longnecks do to mistakes. His entire was defective, all but one, and now there’s only two of them left. Keeli is perfect though, he has dark hair and dark eyes like every other clone, unlike the rest of their batch.

Keeli will be safe, but 7567 isn’t.

The scientists will be coming for him, 7567 knows, because trainer Reau had taken great amusement from telling him so. They’d come for him, and they’d take him to the labs - they’ll cut him open while he’s still awake to see where they went wrong. They’ll tie him down and make him watch as they put pieces of him into jars, and when they have all they need, they’d feed the rest of him to Trainer Vau’s striil. He’s so defective, they won’t even bother recycling him.

The memory of Trainer Reau’s voice has panic crawling up 7567’s throat like the bugs she had forced him to eat during survival training, with hundreds of legs and sharp pincers. He sobs harder, curling tighter around himself, breath catching in his throat and rattling in his chest. He itches and burns like there are things under his skin, and his nails dig into his scalp. He claws, scratches, and hiccups - anything to make the panic go away.

He doesn’t want to be decommissioned.

He can’t breathe - can’t get enough air past the bugs in his throat. He feels like his heart is clawing out of his chest, like his stomach is twisting itself into knots. He doesn’t want to be eaten, he doesn’t want to be taken away.

Panicking as desperately trying to muffle his cries, 7567 is still aware of the door to his little closet opening, casting light over his huddled form. He curls tighter in on himself, trying to hide away from the eyes watching him, burning against his skin. Then, the light is gone, plunging the closet into darkness once more, and 7567 shakes in fear, hyper aware of another person’s breathing invading the space he had hidden himself in.

“Hey,” A voice nearly identical to his own speaks, and despite himself, 7567 finds himself relaxing at the comforting sound. “Hope you don’t mind, I’m looking for a place to hide too.” 7567 sniffles, pushing his face further into his arms. “Can I come sit?”

He hiccups, then shrugs, despite wanting to tell the other boy to go away. He’s a mutant, if another cadet actually wants to be near him, then there’s not actually anything he can do about it. He’s the lowest of the low, barely even a clone, nothing he wants matters.

There’s a shuffle of fabric, and 7567 knows without needing to see that the other cadet had sat down just outside of his arm’s reach. “Priest is on a warpath.” The other boy says cheerfully, “But I think Baar’ur Gilamar is trying to stab him with a scalpel, so he won’t be looking for me for awhile - so I gave the medics the slip.” 7567’s breathing calms the longer the other cadet speaks, and he lets himself relax as his voice washes over him. “Alpha won’t be very happy with me -” 7567’s breath catches, “- he says I shouldn’t be running around with a head wound.”

Only CCs trained with the Alpha-class clones. There’s a CC hiding in the closet with him. He wasn’t supposed to be near the CCs; he’s a CT, they’re not supposed to be around him, they’re not supposed to talk to him unless it’s to give orders. Even worse - he’s a mutant CT sitting within touching distance of a CC.

“You’re a CC.” He whispers in horror, panic cresting once more. Trainer Reau would be so angry with him if she knew he was contaminating a CC.

“Well, yeah .” The other cadet says easily, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m CC-2224, who are you?”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you.” 7567 says numbly.

CC-2224 scoffs, “Why not?”

7567 shakes fearfully; Trainer Reau was going to punish him so bad for this. She’d probably send him right to the Longnecks - he’d prefer another beating to being sent to the scientists. “You’re a CC .” He says again, voice growing shrill, trying desperately to make this CC understand.

“Yeah.” CC-2224 repeats slowly, but there’s something calculating in his tone. “What about it?”

“I’m a CT .”

“So?” The Command-classer asks, suspicious now. “I talk to CTs all the time.”

“During training!” 7567 cries, tugging on his hair. “We’re not supposed to talk to you outside of training!”

“What?” CC-2224 sounds stunned, “Why? That’s ridiculous!”

7567 just starts sobbing again. He was going to be decommissioned for this, Trainer Reau was going to be so angry.

“Please don’t cry.” CC-2224 says in alarm, and a small hand lands on his arm. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“They’re gonna decommission me!” 7567 wails, and hands pull his fingers away from his hair before he can start pulling on the ugly curls again. He squirms, flinches, but CC-2224 holds tight, reeling him in so that he could wrap his arms around him. 7567 finds himself pressed against CC-2224’s chest, his head tucked under the other cadet’s chin. Hands rub his back, warm and grounding. At a loss and overwhelmed, his emotions shutting down, 7567 melts into CC-2224’s hug, heart racing and tears on his cheeks.

He doesn’t know what to do with this.

“It’s okay, vod’ika.” CC-2224 promises, voice hard. “I won’t let them decommission you.”

He wants to ask what CC-2224 could do to stop the Longnecks if they came to take him, but there’s determination in the other cadet’s voice. There’s a hard conviction to his words that chases away any doubt that he wouldn’t stop them. 7567 finds himself believing him; he wants to believe him.

“Let’s go find Alpha.” 2224 says, and, to his confusion, he gently headbutts 7567. “He’ll help.”

 

 

Alpha-17 doesn’t know what to think of him, that much is obvious to 7567 when CC-2224 drags him into his batch’s bunkroom. The older clone tears into 2224 for leaving the infirmary with his injury first, a massive thing hidden behind bacta bandages that hides one half of 2224’s face, and 7567 is shocked that the other cadet - he's barely taller than 7567, they’re probably in the same growth cycle, even if 2224 is a little older - could still move around and speak properly with the wound.

Then, once his cutting words for 2224 dry up, Alpha-17 turns to 7567, dark eyes studying him with growing interest. His attention is constantly pulled back to 7567’s hair, but there’s no disgust in his expression, something 7567 had grown accustomed to, but instead it’s calculation. “How old are you, cadet?”

7567 snaps to attention, “Three, sir!”

Alpha-17 hums, circling 7567 like a predator, and 7567 turns to always keep him in eyesight. He’d learned that much from Trainer Reau, and it seems to amuse the Alpha-classer. “Must be good, huh, vod’ika - to have made it this far with hair like that.”

“I’d like to think so.” 7567 says before he can stop himself, then kicks himself - Keeli was always saying he never thought before he spoke, and it got him into a lot of trouble with their trainers. But Alpha-17 doesn’t lash out, instead he snorts.

Next to him, 2224 grins, “What d’you think, Alpha?”

“I think you put yourself into danger you didn’t need, kid.” Alpha-17 says sharply, turning a glare on the smaller clone, but 2224 only lifts his chin stubbornly.

“He said they were going to decommission him.” CC-2224 retorts, “That’s not fair!”

This is the wrong thing to say.

“Life’s not fair, Kote!” Alpha-17 thunders.

The room goes quiet - there’s horror in 2224’s squadmates’ expressions, and agony in Alpha-17’s. 2224 himself just looks confused as the silence grows.

“Who’s Kote?” Once again, 7567’s tongue gets away with him, and he bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood. He’s not supposed to ask questions.

“Doesn’t matter.” The older clone says harshly, and 7567 flinches. Alpha-17 stays tightly wound for a moment, before he lets out a rattling breath and forces himself to relax, his expression rearranging into a carefully neutral mask. “You have potential, kid.” He tells him, then glances at 2224 for a moment, “I’ll do what I can.” Alpha-17 grumbles, rubbing a hand aggressively through his short hair. “Now get out of my sight.”

7567 bolts.

 

(The next day, 7567 and Keeli report to their training room, but Trainer Reau is nowhere in sight. Instead, an older clone stands in front of them, arms crossed over his muscular chest and a sharp grin on his face. He's as tall as Alpha-17, and just as heavily muscled, and it almost hurts to look up at him; his dark hair is just a touch longer than regulation length, and there's a deep scar scored across the bridge of his nose, more visible scars peeking out from his training reds. He had seen fights, and he'd walked away from them in one piece.

“Hey there, verd’ike.” The clone says, voice darkly amused. “A-77 at your service - or Fordo. But you can call me Captain, or Sir.” His smile grows wider, more dangerous, and 7567 swallows nervously, Keeli shifting awkwardly next to him. “You answer to me now.”)

[veiledpeaches]

chance encounters | part ii: i just want to be untangled

Summary: Between pages of meddling friends and societal expectations, all she actually wants is to find a happily ever after with Doyoung, even if it feels like that is no longer possible.

part i x part ii x part iii x part iv x part v x part vi

word count: 3.5k

GIF originally posted by @lukhei​

Johnny’s laugh rings loud and infectious in her ears, and Haewon squeezes her eyes shut as the glare of the morning sun shines into the passenger seat. She had forgotten her damn sunglasses. They had left their apartment at barely eight in the morning, but the sun was relentless nonetheless. It’s still too early to think, and Johnny hasn’t even had his morning coffee but he remains energetic as ever, his pink aviators jovially perched on the bridge of his nose.

“He really said that?” He turns to pull down the passenger seat visor for her, “that the kid won because of how he looks?”

“There’s no way something like that could win!”  Haewon mimics, “the emotions are too raw and the writing is too unrefined. He doesn’t even know his tenses!”

Johnny erupts into raucous laughter once again, “he’s such a literary snob!  I swear, for someone who preaches about discovering young authors’ works and all that future generations stuff, he’s a hell of a hypocrite.” Johnny’s shoulders are still shaking from laughter as he shakes his head.

Haewon smiles, “well, he’s thorough.”

“That’s what makes him so attractive to you, isn’t it?” He turns to wink at her playfully, but his face falls into concern when he hears a long sigh escape from her lips as she sinks deeper into her seat.

“So how’re you doing there kiddo?” He’s deliberately being generic, but Haewon can tell what he’s referring to.

She inhales deeply, and then lets it go.

“I don’t know,” she replies truthfully.

“It’s a month and a half to the big day,” Johnny softens his voice, slowing down to switch lanes. “Doyoung told me you haven’t RSVP’d yet.”

They don’t say the word ‘wedding’ in their conversations anymore, not since they got their invitations in the mail and Johnny watched her sink into their couch, her shoulders bunched and jaw tightened. Because Haewon doesn’t cry – not sober, anyway – and Johnny doesn’t have the heart to ask her to let it out, knowing how obstinate and prideful she can get about her feelings.

Three years ago, in a conversation with Mama Suh, Johnny unintentionally found out that his childhood friend was planning a move to Seoul. Upon further probing, it seemed that she had left a difficult relationship two years ago and really needed a change of scenery. While she’s only three years younger than him, Johnny has always felt protective over the shy girl who likes to read and who used to live two houses down from his, and had reached out to her without qualms. A month later, a place and a position was ready for Haewon.

What Johnny wasn’t ready for, was seeing the look on her face when Doyoung dropped off some food from Mama Kim at their house – that expression that revealed that she had fallen too deep and too fast, before Johnny had told her anything personal about Doyoung.

“What would you do if you were me?”

“I wouldn’t go. You don’t have to do this to yourself, Haewon.” Johnny clucks his tongue, signaling a left turn to the driver behind. “He’s just your boss, you don’t owe it to him. Just make something up.”

That’s true, she thinks. After all, he’s just my boss.

And in a couple of months, maybe even something less.

Finding Doyoung in a sea of dark-haired, frustrated travelers isn’t easy, so Haewon is thankful when she hears his voice saying her name. She swivels around, and Doyoung is standing in front of her, hair down in a natural center parting with the biggest, silliest grin on his face. Haewon thinks he’s most breathtaking like this; his striking brown eyes and the slope of his cheek catching the light in the airport as he smiles handsomely, and Haewon can’t help but smile back. She doesn’t usually get to see him like this, in a green shirt tucked under blue ripped jeans and a white denim jacket pulled onto him, complementing his wide shoulders.

“I knew you’ll be lost,” he teases smugly, “you hate crowds as much as I do.”

She laughs, unzipping her bag to hand the file over to him. He looks through the documents quickly, humming as he counts the papers in his hand before stashing it in his Valentino crossbody.

“Will there be someone waiting for you at JFK?”

He nods, “yeah, the company is sending a representative. Don’t worry about me! I’ll see you next week…”

A familiar face catches her eye and Haewon thinks she sees Doyoung’s fiancée standing a few feet away from them, smiling radiantly at the person next to her. She’s surprised, finding something strange about seeing Inhee here but being unable to put her finger to it. It doesn’t register in her brain that Inhee was only supposed to be back the following Sunday until another figure steps into her line of vision and wraps his arm tightly around her shoulders.

Haewon’s feels her blood run cold. She vaguely hears Doyoung saying her name, but is unable to respond as she all but drags him towards the departure hall without a second thought.

He’s frantically asking her what is wrong, but Haewon can’t seem to hear him against the thumping of her own heart. She doesn’t want to believe what she had just seen, but the scene flashes in her mind repeatedly, each time clearer than the last.

“You can’t be late for your flight, boss!” She fakes a laugh, “I’ll see you when you’re back!”

Doyoung still looks befuddled and unconvinced, but he gives her a smile and wave as he enters the departure hall obediently, checking the time on his watch.

She watches his silhouette become smaller and smaller before he completely disappears into the crowd, her mind whirling with images. She doesn’t forget the way crippling fear had flashed in Inhee’s eyes as she watched Haewon pull Doyoung towards the departure hall, her lover’s lips still in her ear.

Doyoung hadn’t been interested in dating in high school, until he met Inhee in his last year. According to Johnny, Doyoung’s mindset towards high school had been different from many others. He saw high school as a transitional phase, a time to try out as many things as possible and fill up his portfolio with accolades before university. He was student body vice president, chief editor of the school magazine and a short distance runner on the track and field team. He was far too busy dealing with entrance exams and early college applications, until Inhee came into his life.

Inhee was the president of the dance club and obnoxiously popular, acknowledged for her good looks and good heart. And unlike his schoolmates, perhaps Doyoung would never have even given her a second glance at that point in his life, if she hadn’t slipped him her number after his event on their school’s sports day.

The first time Haewon formally met Inhee was three years ago on Valentines’ Day, a month after she joined Dam-il. Johnny had already informed her of Doyoung’s attached status, but she couldn’t put a face to the name – until Inhee walked by her desk with a big beautiful smile, all red Lancôme lipstick and smelling like Chanel, into Doyoung’s office and encircled her arms around his neck, planting a generous kiss on his mouth.

(“She kind of looks familiar,” Haewon had whispered to Yuta on the phone that day after Inhee had lowered the blinds around Doyoung’s office and locked his door. “I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere…”

Yuta had scoffed into his phone. “Like, on every, single, Korean Air poster?”)

Inhee is difficult to hate – this is something Haewon had quickly gleaned after a short interaction with her. Her beauty is dizzying, her confidence making her even more charming without making her appear conceited, and she takes care of Doyoung so well. She is constantly showering the office with late afternoon snacks, visiting Doyoung for lunch on days she doesn’t have to fly. And while she hates books and anything to do with writing, and they don’t arguably have that much in common, she has always supported Doyoung in his career to a fault.

Haewon wishes she could hate Inhee, but she makes him so happy.

(Sometimes, on nights she feels particularly petty, Haewon counts the number of compatible traits she has with Doyoung, comparing it to that of him with Inhee. Truthfully, she does this to comfort herself, wistfully hoping to feel less pathetic given the knowledge that these things don’t matter when they all know who has Doyoung’s heart.)

“You have to tell him.”

Haewon looks up from her plate in surprise, meeting Johnny’s eyes. After Haewon had blurted out what she had seen at the airport, Johnny had fallen awfully silent, concentrating on the road ahead of them and only asking factual questions. Haewon had never seen him so serious before, watching his expression morph from disbelieving to crestfallen as the news gradually sunk in.

It had taken four hours and a whole pot of fettuccini for Johnny to say something.

She looks at him for a moment, twirling the pasta with her fork and making endless bolognese sauce circle patterns.

“Don’t get me wrong – I think he should know. But you don’t think that would be overstepping? It’s not really any of my business.”

“I’m over it.” Johnny comments abruptly, until he catches Haewon’s judgmental look. “I meant the betrayal. I’m over it. She’s not my fiancée, I’m not going to invest any more of my emotions in this.

“But practically, have you thought about this? If she can cheat so close to the wedding, do you think she’ll stop even after?” Johnny’s voice is low and measured. “God, I’m so glad I RSVP’d no. I don’t think I’d have been able to stomach it, especially now knowing this.”

Unlike Haewon, it had only taken Johnny two days to respond to Doyoung’s wedding invitation, citing an emergency company conference happening in London. This hadn’t sat well with Doyoung, at least not according to what Haewon had overheard when she had reached home a little earlier that day.

(“Look, why on earth would I want to miss your wedding, Dons?” Johnny had been facing the living room window, his grip firm on the windowsill. “You’re- No, you don’t need me there, Doyoung, I am one person. You’ll have your whole wedding party there, all your high school friends and your entire family. You won’t even realize I’m not there.”)

Johnny has never been the biggest fan of Inhee – an opinion he has never hid from Doyoung since day one. While likening Inhee’s personality to an annoying yellow cartoon character, Johnny had been frank with Haewon about his inability to hold back from cringing at how extraneous, overblown and unnecessarily exuberant she is. To top it off, her fiancé happens to be practically Mensa level intelligent, while Inhee…

(“I was telling Doyoung about a new accounting system the company had decided to adopt, how I had thought that it was offered to us at a price that was too good to be true,” Johnny had recounted to Haewon at dinner one night, “and he told me maybe we needed to kick the tires on that offer first.”

“And she went,” Johnny had started to imitate her voice and gone up to a vocal inflection that was uncalled for, “oh, maybe you should kick the trunk too!’”

Haewon had almost choked on her dinner.

“I thought to myself, ‘what about kicking the bucket?’”)

The hilarity of his condescension aside, Johnny has always been at least respectful to Inhee, an implicit understanding of their respectful roles in Doyoung’s life at the forefront of his interactions. From her understanding of Johnny, she had been pretty sure that the reason he had given was legitimate, that he wouldn’t intentionally miss Doyoung’s wedding for any reason, but now there seems to be room for second guessing.  

“I don’t know, maybe I misjudged the situation-”

Then she saw the look on Johnny’s face.

“Okay fine,” she picked at her food, “but I can’t ruin their relationship.”

“You’re not ruining their relationship; the relationship was ruined the moment she decided to cheat! You’re doing him a favor, you’re-” Then he realizes. “You’re projecting.”

“What?”

Johnny gnaws at his bottom lip, turning ideas over in his head. “You know what I’m thinking?” He continues when she doesn’t reply. “I think you want to tell him, but you think that the part of you who wants to tell him is the same part of you who’s in love with Doyoung.” He sighs. “That’s the real reason you can’t tell him, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s not just that.” She takes his empty plate, scooping more pasta for him.

“The whole time we were in the car, and then back home, I’ve gone over so many scenarios in my head, of how this situation may turn out. The conclusion is always the same – he needs to know.

“I don’t need to be the person who tells him, but if I were in his position, I would want someone to tell me. Even if she ends it – which I really hope she does – it’s unfair to him if he doesn’t know that there was a time her heart didn’t belong to him. It is definitely cruel, but far less cruel than the idea of living in an illusion.

“It’s just that… I can’t think of a way to tell him without hurting him.”

Her phone rings, saving her from the conversation with Johnny, but his eyes are steady when he mouths to her “we’re not done” as she picks up her phone.

“It’s me.” The voice on the phone is quieter, gentler and wearier than ever, but undoubtedly belonging to Doyoung’s fiancée.

“Hi Inhee.” Johnny’s head whips up, his eyes widened.

“Can we talk?” She asks for them to meet later in the afternoon, then tells her that she would text her the details. Johnny has a resigned smile on his face when she puts down the phone.

“So it was her you saw at the airport.” He says lamely.

“Seems like it.”

“At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I’m just going to say what we’re both thinking – that if Doyoung had met you before he’d met her, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. If he’d met you a bit earlier, she wouldn’t even have been an option.”  

Johnny’s loyalty is touching, but not especially helpful in light of the present situation, when she’s faced with the quandary of meeting Doyoung’s fiancée at a café two hours later. Even across the street, she can see her perched against the window of the café, wringing her hands nervously. Her hair is brought up into a high ponytail today, and she looks stunning in a baby pink tweed dress and short white boots.

Inhee’s gaze meets hers as she crosses the road towards the café, pursing her lips together as Haewon smiles casually back.

“I got Americanos for both of us,” she blurts immediately when Haewon pushes the door and the wind chime tinkles brightly.

She takes a deep breath. “I’ve seen you drink cups of them every day.”

“Thanks.” Haewon pulls out the chair and takes a seat.

It’s close to a minute later before Haewon speaks again. Clearly Inhee isn’t going to broach the subject, but she refuses to either. “Cool nails.”

This brings a small smile to Inhee’s lips. “Thank you.”

The waitress arrives, placing hexagonal marble coasters down onto the table and then the drinks onto the coasters. Haewon sips on her coffee, looking at the way the patterns converge on the coaster.

“I won’t make this long, I have a flight to catch…” Inhee gestures towards the luggage sitting next to her, pressing her lips together. It doesn’t take a genius to know that she was meeting her thick-lipped lover.

“Did you… Did you tell him?” Inhee’s voice is softer this time.

Haewon looks up at her, watching flecks of fear dance in her eyes, and shakes her head.

Inhee nods her head and inhales, as if expecting this response.

“Are you… going to?”

She licks her lips and places the coffee back down onto the coaster. “I don’t want to, but yes if I have to.”

Inhee let out a laugh with an edge. “Of course you would.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She scoffs quietly, lifting her gaze slowly, her lips pulling back to resemble a scowl and her jaw tightening. Haewon had never seen her like that.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at my fiancé?”

Haewon swallows, unable to reply.

“Kang Haewon, I know that you’re in love with Doyoung.”

Haewon concentrates on her breathing, falling silent in favor of Inhee’s calculated monologue.

“You're not fooling anyone. You are constantly around him, you’re close to Johnny-”

“I’ve never tried to do anything.” It’s like a dam has broken, and the words rush out of her mouth before she can stop them. They’re not the wrong words, they just seem self-centered, like she’s attempting to justify herself when there’s a relationship independent of her that’s at stake.

“I’m just saying, don’t factor me into the equation. It’s always been professional. It’s my job to be around him, and when it’s not, when he wants to be around Johnny, I always excuse myself.”

There’s something cruel about being so self-righteous as the lips and hands of her boss’ fiancée tremble uncontrollably, but Haewon lets her words cut through. It feels like with every word, she’s slowly regaining the breaths that had been stolen from her all these years. She watches as something hard darts around in Inhee’s eyes, the same eyes that reflect her own rigid posture.

“He was attached even before I knew him, and passionately in love. I could never take that away from him-”

“You don’t think I know that you’re the reason Johnny isn’t coming to the-”

“You flatter me too much.” Haewon chuckles humorlessly, tucking strands of hair behind both her ears. “So is this why you asked to meet? Because if this is it, I would like to leave.”

She gets up from her seat, placing way too many bills that the coffee could be worth on the table before turning to leave, but stops short at Inhee’s next statement.

“Things haven’t been okay for a while now.”

Even as she sits herself back down, Inhee’s gaze remains far away from her.

“Doyoung works late every night. We hardly spend much time in the same room anymore. We don’t even talk anymore, about our lives and our work.” Something occurs to her, and she lets out a laugh somewhat verging on hysterical, “do you know we haven’t had sex in four months?!”

She looks at Haewon, like she’s searching for an answer she knows she can’t give her. And Haewon, she tells herself not to avert her eyes as Inhee squeezes her hands together. The whole scene feels vaguely invasive, bearing witness to the chipping of a stranger’s carefully polished veneer.

“You don’t need to tell me this-”

“I kept telling myself it’s wedding jitters, but…” Inhee bites back a cry, “I think he doesn’t love me anymore.”

She bursts into tears, shaking and crying into her hands. It’s like the glossy, rosy façade of the airline poster girl is slowly being lifted off, the remains of an embittered, desperate shell of a person sitting in front of her.

Haewon doesn’t know what to do, but can’t find it in herself to completely retract from the situation, so she pulls her chair towards Inhee, not even blinking when Inhee throws her arms around her and sobs even more mournfully.

“I know I don’t deserve to say this… but I just love him so much. I don’t want to lose him, Haewon, I’m so scared.”

“He’s my whole world, he has always been…”

It feels like hours later when she leaves the café, hailing a cab for a broken-hearted Inhee to take her to wherever she might want to go. She feels the tell-tale buzz of her phone in her pocket, knowing instantly that Johnny must have grown impatient of waiting for her update on this meeting.

But as she checks the notification banner on her phone, as her brain wraps around the curves of the letters forming the name of the email sender, her heart almost skips a beat.

Nothing, however, can prepare her for the first line she reads on her locked screen.

Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you…

xx

w/n: last week’s update was intentionally postponed to this week; there will be regular posting (shifted to Saturday, 11pm KST) from now on.

also, I’m sorry for my long and sometimes convoluted sentences. i try my best, but we all know fic!doyoung would never give any of my work a second glance tbh. unlike the young author, however, i willingly apologize for my tenses.

[capricornus-rex]

Old Friend, New Family (4)

Requested by Anon | Prompt:

Hey I was wondering if you’d take a prompt where the reader is an ex-padawan who’s master died pretty early on in order 66, and was instead saved by a clone that removed his inhibitor chip. Then maybe they get separated, and years later when the reader is a crew member on the Mantis, they come across the clone again? How would the crew, especially Cal and Cere, react to meeting a friendly ex-soldier clone who’s close with the reader? Could you make it full of angst then fluff? Love your writing!

Tags: Defected! Clone Trooper, Jedi Survivor! Reader, Order 66 Survivor

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

The Mantis charted a course to Kashyyyk. For the rest of the trip, you sat on the couch, still finding yourself in deep thought. As you drew nearer to the planet, something in there was beckoning you, although you cannot say for sure what it was—it was a feeling, but of what?

Upon your arrival in the planet’s orbit, you’re met with a blockade of Star Destroyers. Cere made quick work of masking the ship’s signature in the Empire’s radar while entering the planet.

“[y/n], can you radars for me?”

“No problem, Cere,”

You watched the wall of monitors behind Greez’s seat, while the captain tries to fly casual, you kept a close eye on the radars—the blips indicating the Star Destroyers’ signature glowed in the same color as the Mantis.

“Okay, we’re good,” you breathed.

The shadow of the gargantuan command ship blanketed the smaller cruiser ship entering the planet. You weren’t sure if the pounding in your eardrums was your heart or the Star Destroyer’s thrusters pumping. You got through the blockade quietly and entered the sea of clouds of Kashyyyk’s atmosphere.

Once you’ve cut through the sheet of clouds and revealed the vast green landscape, you’re greeted by a TIE Fighter whooshing in only to be obliterated by a rebel gunship right in front of the Mantis’s windshield.

“What was that!?” you screeched.

“Kid, aren’t you supposed to be watching the monitors?!” Greez cries at Cal.

“Guerilla fighters! They’ve ambushed an assault convoy!”

“Walkers are approaching their position!” Cere added.

Keeping the objective of finding Tarfful in mind, Cal had to cook up a plan—and fast.

“Sabotage,” Cal said nonchalantly as he hopped out of his seat. “We used to scrap walkers in Bracca. I’ll just jack one.”

“Get a load of this kid, he think he’s back in the Clone Wars!” Greez scoffed.

“Babe, I love your confidence,” you start off with a blank, unreadable tone until Cal spotted your smirk. “But I say go for it!”

“You two kids are gonna do no good to my blood pressure and my ship, you know that!?”

Cere tells Greez to fly the Mantis closer to the AT-AT walkers rising up from the depths of the Origin River. You slammed the button and the door whizzes open.

“Cal, do me a favor? Stay alive down there,”

“I’ll add that to the plan,” he turned to you, a flirtatious smug plastered on his face. “See you around?”

You grab him by the scruff of his poncho and stole a kiss, “Sure, I’ll be alive at the next stop past that disaster.”

You and Cere braced the walls for balance, Cal slowly stepped out of the moving ship and timed his jump.

“Ready for a swim, BD!?”

“Trill, BEEEEP!!!”

You watched Cal spring from the entry ramp, his whooping howl echoed as he vanished in the wind. Cere then turned to you.

“There he goes,” you said casually.

“Come on, [y/n], you take Cal’s seat at the cockpit and help us out,”

“No problem!”

Cal and BD-1 safely dropped into the Origin River and swam towards the moss-draped AT-AT walkers. Meanwhile, the Mantis crew worked their way through the dogfight in the sky.

“Hey kid, you a good shot?” said Greez.

“Why?”

“You’re gonna help me get through those TIE Fighters!”

Greez activated the Mantis’s ion cannons for you. A device pops out of its hatch from the floor and erects in front of you—revealing a steering analog complete with a targeting computer. Your eyes widened in great amazement—ion cannon analogs and targeting computers weren’t new to you, but fairly enough, it has been five years since you’ve seen some aerial action.

“Does Cal know about this?!” you squealed.

“Naw, this is the first time I’ve turned that thing on after a while! Now go on and get ‘em!”

You wore the headset that came with the analog and computer, you kept your eye on the targeting device until the TIE Fighter’s blip stayed still in the circle.

Clack!

You crunched the trigger buttons and out comes twin lasers shooting out of the ship’s armaments, the TIE Fighter went down in the first shot.

“Not bad!” Greez commended, but then muttered under his breath, though in a good way. “Heh, beginner’s luck.”

Peering through the windshield, you spotted a single AT-AT attacking another AT-AT and immediately you knew that it was Cal maneuvering the friendly AT-AT.

“Looks like Cal’s sabotage plan worked,” you blurted and continued clearing the air out of hostiles.

“Kid’s having way too much with that thing!”

“Who wouldn’t?” a grin played along your lips.

Greez rolled his eyes when he saw the look on your face, “Oh, of course, peas in a pod, the pair of ya! Why do I even bother?!”

The Lateron steered clear of the skirmish in the ground as Cal slowly disappears into that trench pass, a larger TIE—which you guessed to be a shuttle-type—hovers low behind the high rock walls. The sabotaged walker trade blasters and cannons with that imposing, dark grey ship.

“Looks like we’ll have to push a little harder!” Cal exclaimed.

Cal pressed the buttons of the trigger hard, releasing a pair of ballistics out of the AT-AT’s twin barrels and meeting its mark on the TIE shuttle’s hull. The young Jedi, suddenly trigger-happy, continued sending blasts to the enemy hovering across him until it was beginning to burst in flames.

“Come on…!” Cal snarled through clenched teeth.

The wings of the TIE imploded, a firework of sparks sputtered out of the vehicle, Cal celebrated with a smug chuckle but instantaneously disappeared when he saw that the ship is spinning out of control towards him.

“BRACE YOURSELF, BD!!!”

The AT-AT went down when the damaged TIE shuttle collided with it. Fortunately, Cal and BD-1 popped out of the emergency exit hatch at the bridge unscathed.

“Yeah, I’m okay. And you?”

“Bee, trill!”

“No, we are not doing that again,” Cal wagged his finger at the little mischief of a droid.

A gruff, dark man clad in bulk armor approached him.

“You just wrecked a perfectly good walker!”

Cal shrugged his shoulders, merely translating to “What else would you want me to do?”

The hulking man introduced himself as Saw Gerrera and immediately asked the boy his purpose of going to Kashyyyk in such interesting timing.

Before Cal could even answer, the Mantis hovered and landed on the hangar; you’re overly eager to hop out of the ship and jumped off the entry ramp in the middle of its unfolding. Before you could run up to Cal, you surveyed the destruction of the landing pad—your enthusiastic smile dissolved at the sight of the guerilla fighters in pain and immobilized. It almost reminded you of that particular event.

You walked up to Cal and then introduced yourself to Saw.

“So, what’s your business with him?”

“Jedi business,”

“The Jedi are dead,”

“Not all,” Cere cut in.

You and Cal tugged your lightsabers off of your belts. When questioned with how you got those weapons, the two young Jedi took no offense and answered respectively.

“My master gave it to me,”

“It’s been on my hip ever since I was a kid,”

“Well, my companions and I are trying to liberate the enslaved Wookiees, some of them are bound to know where Tarfful is,”

“You don’t mind if we take a look around?”

The guerilla leader didn’t mind. He quickly returned his mind to his responsibilities in front of him.

“My scouts have reported an Imperial transport filled with medical supplies, we need it more than the Imperials do. Can one of you make a run for it?”

You stepped in, “I could do that.”

“Alright, take some companions with you. You’re not carrying all of those alone,”

There was no room in arguing about that so you let Saw’s fighters accompany you to where the medical supplies are held. Cal snatched your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait,”

“What is it?”

He gingerly cupped your cheek and snuck in a kiss before you go.

“See you around?” he throws back the question to you.

“Yeah,” you bite your lip as you failed miserably in hiding a flirtatious smile. “See you.”

Cal didn’t let go of your hand, it slipped away as you walked farther from him; you cleared your throat, collecting your bearings before following one of the partisans taking the lead. The redhead then walked to the opposite direction towards the elevator leading to the forest trench.

Meanwhile, you had no problem getting along with the partisans.

“Your boyfriend sure seems protective of you,” one of them commented after the two of you slid off the body of the fallen AT-AT to the other side of the path.

A reaction that ought to be a chuckle turned out to be an awkward, casual scoff. She didn’t

“I’m Adrina, by the way, we look like we’re ‘bout the same age,”

“Name’s [y/n]. Nice to meet you,”

“Likewise!”

“Come on now, we’re not that far!” the leader hollered from the front of the pack.

It was a good thing that Cal didn’t blow up that one supply bay stationed along the trench pass. It was almost too convenient.

“There they are!” the leader announced and then waved his hand in the direction of the bay’s veranda, calling the attention of the fighters waiting for them.

The soldiers on the platform kicked down two ladders for all of you. As soon as you hauled yourself up and met with the group securing the supplies, the next thing wasn’t exactly you weren’t anticipating ever since you got into this planet.

“Well, it’s about time you hauled your asses up here to get these supplies—otherwise, I’d have given it to those Imps!”

The voice that came with those words made your chest constrict and you heart beat out of rhythm.

You know that voice better than anyone else.

[floralbuckley]

eddie carving E + R into the kissing bridge right under the R + E and then as adults , them realizing

This started out as someone else request and then kind of slowly turned to this one, but a little different? Also, this took me over a week to write and edit so please be gentle. I hope you all enjoy! 

Getting out of the sewers and getting Eddie to the emergency room was the real challenge. After the Losers had all finally seen the existence of Pennywise melt away to nothing, it became a reality to them that, somehow, they needed to haul up Eddie’s body and get him out of there. Sure, he was small, but after the battle, they knew they had limited energy. And they had to use it wisely if they were going to make it out of there alive. 

 It was Bill who had first posed the question of who would do the honours of carrying Eddie out, and how exactly they would do that. 

 “I’ll take him,” Richie said without missing a beat, his hand raised up high in the air.

 Mike shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Any sane person on earth could take one look at Richie’s distressed and dishevelled appearance and know that he shouldn’t be carrying another human being through these sewers. “Richie, you’re a mess. I’ll do it.”

 Despite Mike’s words, Richie began walking towards Eddie in haste and said, “we all know I’m the biggest. It just makes sense. I mean, really, it’s just science.” Mike stepped forward, about to protest once again, but Ben put his arm in front of his chest to hold him back. As Richie put his forearms underneath Eddie’s armpits and slowly lifted him off the ground, his arms began shaking due to Eddie’s beaten up body being so limp. But eventually, somehow, he managed to get one arm under his legs and pick him up bridal style. “Let’s go, Losers.”

 When they finally reached the emergency room, the only thing on their minds was Eddie and making sure he got the help he needed. Mike immediately went into leader mode, rushing to the front desk to try and get Eddie into surgery as quickly as possible while Richie stood behind him with Eddie still in his arms. What the losers didn’t really seem to realise was the state that each of them was in, too: blood all over their shirts, cuts on their faces, bruises littering their arms, tear streaks down their faces. But Eddie was their first priority, of course.

 Eddie spent several weeks in the hospital after surgery, eating nothing but disgusting jelly and sloppy soup, drinking sour apple juice and watching more daytime television than he’s ever seen in his entire life. If you asked Eddie Kaspbrak who his favourite soap opera character was, he would be more than happy to list all the soaps on Channel 5, plus the 2 on channel 7, then go into great detail about each character from each show long before telling you his favourite. 

 However, by his side was a person he didn’t expect to stick around.

 The other Loser’s practically begged Richie to get some rest or, at the very least, go back to the Derry Town House to have a shower and change his clothes. But Richie refused. He simply needed to stay by Eddie’s side in case any little thing happened.

 After a few days had passed and everyone had confirmation that Eddie was okay, it was time for the rest of the group to go back to work, back to their partners, back to their own towns. Except for Richie. Boy, that man was stubborn. Numerous phone calls, angry texts, and livid emails from his manager, and Richie dodged every single one. Eddie was the only thing on his mind right now, and there was no way he was leaving just to go tell jokes on stage. 

 By the 5th day of sleeping in the uncomfortable vinyl chair in Eddie’s room, and wearing the same clothes from the sewer, Richie eventually went back to the Town House. He showered, grabbed his and Eddie’s suitcases, and bought a sleeping bag for the floor of Eddie’s hospital room. If he had to sleep in that godforsaken chair for one more night, Richie was sure he’d be flying back home on a red-eye that day. 

 Oh, who was he kidding? Richie would’ve slept on the floor for the rest of his life if it meant he got to stay by Eddie’s side. 

 It was 3 weeks after Eddie’s surgery, and, really, Eddie should have left last week. He recovered perfectly from surgery, the stitches had been taken out of his cheek, and doctors said he was good to go home. But Eddie refused, too terrified that something would happen the moment he got onto the plane. So, Richie stayed by his side, catering to his every need to make sure that Eddie was as happy as he could possibly be. 

 It was 4 in the morning, and Richie just simply couldn’t get a wink of sleep. He grabbed his phone from the floor beside him and clicked the lock button, the home screen informing him of the early hour. Richie rustled around in his sleeping bag, attempting to get comfortable against the itchiness of the fabric before he eventually just gave up and got out of the damn thing. He plonked into the visitor chair and looked out the window at Derry’s street lights. He remembered seeing these lights as a boy when he and the losers would go out to the Summer carnival at night, and the entire town would be lit up. It was a sight he hadn’t seen in a very long time, and the memories bought a smile to his face. 

 “Rich?” Eddie whispered.

 Richie jumped a little, not expecting Eddie to be awake at this hour. He turned around to see the smaller boy looking at him, his brown eyes shining in the moonlight.

 “Mm, what’s up?” He whispered back with his eyebrows raised.

 Eddie shuffled around in his bed as he attempted to make space. He absolutely despised Richie sleeping on the floor. Sure, it was clean and sanitary enough given that they were in a hospital, but god, Eddie couldn’t even begin to imagine how uncomfortable sleeping down there for the last 3 weeks must have been.

 “Get in the bed,” he said gently as he gestured his head towards the empty space he had made. 

 Richie shook his head. “It’s fine, Eddie. You need your space.”

 “Richie, get in the bed,” Eddie repeated, his voice no longer a whisper as he rose it to a regular volume. He pulled back the corner of the duvet to show Richie the room he had made for him.

 “No, Eds. I don’t want to hurt you or anything,” Richie said as he put his hands up in defence.

 Eddie let out a low growl and grumpily patted the empty spot next to him. “Get in the fucking bed, asshole.”

 Richie sighed and thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, he really was worried about moving the wrong way and hitting the wound on his cheek or turning over and crashing into his stomach. However, on the other hand, he got to be in bed with Eddie. Of course, it was that thought that won him over. He stood up from the uncomfortable vinyl chair and made his way over to the hospital bed. He slipped a sock-clad foot under the covers first before slowly tucking the rest of his body in. The sheets were warm from where Eddie had just been laying, and after being in them for so long, they also smelt like him: a mixture of soft, just-washed clothes, and freshly cut grass. Richie breathed in the scent as he pulled the duvet up to his chin before turning around to find Eddie looking at him.

 Richie lightly chuckled. “Hey,” he whispered. “Can’t sleep, either?”

 Eddie shook his head as thought for a minute, his eyebrows furrowing. “I know it’s dead, but I can’t stop thinking about it, Rich.”

 Richie snuggled further down into the bed and rubbed his nose against the pillow they were sharing. His soft sweat pants brushing against Eddie’s bare legs sent a chill down his spine as he realised just how close they were to one another. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands, so he let them awkwardly sit in between his and Eddie’s bodies as he thought back to when they had fought Pennywise and all the nightmares that had come afterwards. That demonic face had been taking over almost every thought in Richie’s head for the last 3 weeks, its horrid laugh replaying over and over again.

 “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

 The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, thinking about the fact that, despite fighting and killing that thing, it was still haunting them weeks later. Eddie hesitantly took a hand out from underneath his head and slid it below the covers until his fingers found Richie’s. Eddie let his fingertips touch Richie’s ever so slightly before allowing them to run down Richie’s fingers and meeting at his palm. Eddie rubbed his knuckles over the inside of Richie’s hand, and it felt as if a swarm of butterflies was erupting within both of them.

 Richie couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto his face at the delicate touch. “What’re you doing, Eds?”

 “Rich, I could have died in there,” Eddie started softly. Richie’s collarbones were peeking out from underneath his shirt, and Eddie made a point of staring at them instead of at Richie’s face as he spoke his next words. “It- it made me realise that I can’t keep living a lie, you know?”

 Eddie’s eyes stayed away from Richie’s face as Richie processed his words. He understood in every way what Eddie was saying because Richie, too, didn’t want to live this lie anymore. As much as Richie wanted this, as much as his heart pounded inside his chest and his head spun in circles, and his stomach fluttered with butterflies and his skin filled with goosebumps, Richie wasn’t sure he could do this. And although he’d been living with these thoughts inside his mind for the last 28 years, he still didn’t feel ready. No matter how in love with Eddie he was.

 Richie pulled his fingers away from Eddie’s and sat up in the hospital bed, and Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. He’d seen Richie’s smile just seconds before, and as he thought more about his actions, Eddie’s smile completely fell from his face. His cheeks were suddenly bright red and burning hot, with the sinking feeling that he’d done something terribly wrong growing in his stomach.

 “Yeah, uh-.” Richie didn’t dare look at Eddie’s face. He couldn’t. He got up out of bed quickly and reached for his shoes. “I need some air,” he said hastily as he slipped his arms into his jumper. He pulled his sneakers on and looked around the room for a second – his eyes refusing to meet Eddie’s – then rushed out the door and slammed it shut.

 Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach, and for a moment, he sat in his bed as he thought over what had just occurred. He couldn’t let Richie leave. There was no way in hell Eddie was going to let his feelings for Richie ruin what they had. He quickly got out of the bed, grabbed his slippers, and raced out of his room. 

 “Mr Kaspbrak!” One of the nurses shouted as Eddie rushed down the hallway. “What’re you doing?!”

 “Something I need to do before I lose my chance!” Eddie called back.

 He continued forward, trying not to run but still going as quickly as he legs – and the nurses – would allow him to. Eddie could only just see Richie ahead of him, but the crowded halls and slippery floors stopped him from getting any closer. He trailed quite far behind, occasionally losing sight of the taller man in between doctors and patients and families, but eventually Eddie came to the exit. He could see Richie across the road, walking quickly with his hands gripped into a fist and his eyes set on the ground below his feet. 

 Richie, on the other hand, had not a clue that Eddie was following him. There was only one place in this town that Richie was focused on right now. The one spot that would give him the air that he needed, that he craved. He hastily walked, following the path alongside the quarry. His legs moved quickly, and he tucked his hands into his jumper pockets, keeping them tight in a fist. His hair was slightly blowing in the wind, but he didn’t really mind; the fresh air was already clearing his mind with every step he took as he headed for the kissing bridge – a place Richie hadn’t thought about until he set foot in Derry and saw Eddie’s face once again.

 As the wind grew stronger, Richie finally reached the bridge. Eddie was hot on his heels as he jogged down the street, a mix of confused thoughts running through his mind. He stayed back for a little, watching as Richie bent down to look at something on the wooden railing. Richie smiled for a second, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his fingers trailed along something on the wood, which he then placed his hand over and bowed his head down. 

 Eddie slowly began walking forwards.

 “Richie?” he asked hesitantly once he was close enough.

 Richie jumped slightly at the sound of Eddie’s careful voice, not expecting him to have followed him all the way out there. He shook his head a little to get himself out of his daze, then stood up.

 “Ed’s,” Richie said gently. “What’re you doing here?” 

 Eddie’s hands began to shake, so he shoved them into the pocket of his hoodie and made fists, attempting to calm his nerves. His mind was reeling with so many thoughts, but the biggest one floating around in his mind being how much Richie must hate him right now.

 “I just… Wanted to make sure you’re okay?” He asked, his gaze not leaving the road below him. Nerves and the feeling of complete and utter embarrassment were rising up inside him, and Eddie couldn’t name a time where he’d felt more ridiculously stupid than now. Basically confessing to his friend that he’s been living a lie and has feelings for him, making a move, and then following him around town? Eddie didn’t think he’d ever had a bigger facepalm moment in his entire life.  

 Richie took a moment to consider everything. He thought about the fact that he’s been in the closet for 28 years. That he’s been in love with his best friend for 28 years. That all this time, he’s never truly been able to live his life. Never been able to go on dates or have a relationship or have children. All because he’d hidden behind this mask. A mask that allowed him to do comedy and make up voices and cover up who he truly was. Who he truly is. And as his legs began to feel like jelly, Richie let these thoughts scare him enough into walking over to where Eddie stood. His hands were violently shaking as he tenderly laced his fingers through Eddie’s and dragged him towards the bridge railing.

 Eddie’s head was spinning with confusion. And the second that Richie stopped on the bridge and pointed to what he had been looking at, Eddie felt even more confused than before. But one thing he wasn’t confused about was the feeling of Richie’s hand in his. The warm skin and the gentle grip. It was something Eddie had been longing for since they were boys, messing around on the hammock in the clubhouse, or playing dumb games at the arcade. It was a feeling that he knew would be amazing, but now that it was actually happening, and it was reciprocated, it was even better than he had ever imagined it. And boy, had he imagined it. When Eddie was younger, sometimes as he lay in bed, he would interlock his own hands and pretend one was Richie’s just to help him fall asleep. 

 “What am I looking at?” He asked as he stared at the letters carved into the wooden panel.

 “That, Eds, is our initials that I carved 27 years ago,” Richie said, a hint of pride shining through in his voice as he stared at Eddie and continued pointing to the wood. A smile had formed on Richie’s face as his body filled with more confidence. 

 Eddie stared at the sharp, uppercase “R + E”, still confused with his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean… 27 years ago?” He asked. He let go of Richie’s hand and bent down to trace the letters, much like Richie had done just several minutes ago. 

 Richie stayed silent for a while. He was hoping that it would click shortly, and Eddie would understand what he was saying. Watching Eddie as he ran his pointer finger along the indented wood bought a flood of memories back into Richie’s mind. Remembering those times in the clubhouse, or at one of the Loser’s houses, or at the quarry, when Richie would stare at Eddie for so long, no matter what he was doing. His gaze would be so fixated on the smaller boy that hardly anything would be able to snap him out of his love-sick daze. 

 A particular memory sprung to mind from a time, long ago, when he and Eddie would have sleepovers most weeks. Though the one night Richie was currently recalling was the night that changed everything for him. He remembered sitting on his bed, the blue sheets crumbled and messy as he ran his hands roughly through his dishevelled hair. He was seated crisscrossed on the mattress, watching Eddie dig around in his draw containing his collection of VHS tapes, looking for the perfect film for their movie night. 

 It wasn’t that Eddie was doing anything in particular to intrigue Richie, but for some reason, as usual, he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small boy. As Eddie spoke so fast Richie was sure his tongue would fall off, and as he held up tape after tape, putting them neatly in a pile next to him, and as his pastel yellow polo moved with his body and his blue shorts rode a little too far up his thigh, Richie realised it. It was like a light switch had suddenly flicked on inside his mind, and the globe was shining so brightly as everything began falling into place. And it was at that moment that Richie Tozier knew he was in love with Eddie Kaspbrak. 

 He faded out of the memory to see that Eddie hadn’t moved and was still knelt down in front of the letters, and he smiled as a flood of love and warmth filled his chest. Richie felt like a piece of his heart - a piece that had been dedicated to this man for so long - was starting to melt right then and there. 

 Richie walked forward and gently placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and the smaller man looked up at him. “Rich,” he said softly as he slowly stood up. A look of wonder and amazement filled Eddie’s eyes as a delicate smile etched itself onto his lips. 

 Richie let out a gentle chuckle, and the corners of his eye crinkled as he laced his fingers through Eddie’s.

 “Eds, it’s you. It’s always been you. I’ve loved you since we were kids and I still do.”

 Richie hadn’t felt such a surge of confidence in his entire life, but he knew he wouldn’t ever be able to get this opportunity to tell Eddie how much he truly cared for him. It really was now or never.

 Eddie’s spinning head was slowing as his heart grew soft over Richie’s words. He’d longed for the day he heard Richie say those words, and now that the day was finally here, he wanted to take every second to soak it in.

 It was now Eddie’s turn for an old memory to return to his conscious. He thought back to when he was 13, the image of him and the Losers at the quarry on a warm Summer’s day filled his mind. He remembered watching the rest of their friends swimming in the water while he and Richie sat on the rocks, tired from playing and splashing around. While Eddie was sitting up, a sandwich in his hand and a towel wrapped around his shoulders, Richie was sprawled out on his towel fast asleep. Eddie’s gaze lingered on the rise and fall of Richie’s bare chest. Lingered on the hand that was placed on his stomach as it moved up and down as he breathed slowly. Lingered on his hair that was blowing gently in the wind and his nose that crinkled every so often. And he lingered on the fact that he was slowly falling in love with every inch of the Trashmouth more and more every day.

 After all the Loser’s went their separate ways that day, Eddie headed straight for the kissing bridge. As he walked, he let his fingers drag across the wood until he found an empty spot right at the end. Eddie reached into his backpack and pulled out the pocket knife he had snuck out of Stanley’s bag, bent down, and slowly carved the letters that had been stuck inside his mind for god knows how long. He needed this. Some sort of secret place other than his thoughts where he could keep the idea of him and Richie being together alive. 

 Eddie smiled at the memory and gripped Richie’s hand tighter, dragging him further down the bridge. Richie’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion until Eddie stopped in his tracks and pointed at another panel of wood.

 Richie looked to where Eddie’s gaze was set, and there, etched deep and in lower case letters, was “e + r”. Richie’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the markings and a realisation settled over him. He wanted to reach down and touch the letters, but the feeling of Eddie’s hand in his own - the warm, soft skin that so gingerly held on to Richie’s - stopped him from moving.

 “When?” Richie asked, turning back to Eddie. His eyes were shining in the moonlight, much like they had in the hospital room, and Richie didn’t think he had ever seen him look so radiant and stunning, yet so delicate and soft at the same time. He reached out with his free hand and cupped Eddie’s face, rubbing his thumb across his cheek.

 Eddie smiled and relaxed into Richie’s touch as he let out a gentle sigh. “27 years ago,” he whispered with a quick shrug, his tone holding a glimmer of irony as he looked down to the ground. 

 For the first time ever, Richie didn’t have a single word to speak. For the first time ever, he was rendered completely speechless. Because for all these years, as Richie was pining after Eddie day in and day out, stealing glances and hoping and wishing so desperately that Eddie could feel the way he did, Eddie had been doing the exact same thing.

 Richie stepped forward and pressed his torso against Eddie’s. He took his hand out of the smaller boys and instead placed it on the other side of his face.

 “Richie,” Eddie whispered softly, so low that Richie almost didn’t hear him. Eddie moved his face closer to Richie, their noses touching and their lips ever so gently brushing up against one another as both men tried their best to soak in every second of each other.

 “Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie whispered back with a giggle.

 “Don’t call me that. I ha-“ Eddie was cut off from finishing his sentence as Richie finally leant forward completely and pushed his lips against Eddie’s, his thumbs brushing against Eddie’s cheeks and his fingers making their way into his hair.

 Eddie reacted quickly, grabbing on to Richie’s sides to try and pull him closer. But as desperate as their actions seemed to be, with their hands not knowing where to settle and their tummy’s pressing together more and more with every second that passed, the kiss still felt innocent. Sweet. It was soft and gentle and something that both of them had been waiting so long for. And after 27 years, something they both deserved - a happy ending.

[cavity-core]

Satisfying Salad

Chapter Six

I post a lot of different stuff that is totally consumable for minors, but this space is not intended for minors, so if you fall in that category, please navigate it responsibly and respectfully... on that note.. keep scrolling to the next post kids. ^ ^

Despite the tag, this is not Kaebedo, I’m shipping Kaeya with the Fellflower because I’m an absolute psychopath... I call it crack but it’s my otp idk what’s wrong with me, cryo sugoi.

It is still updating but you can read the full fic here.

I keep forgetting to keep posting here. I just posted chapter 8 though so I finally remembered 🎉

Last night had been hectic and disorienting for Subject Three. He remembered passing out on Kaeya’s bed, nestled against the thick duvet, but he’d woken up in a bush. As tempting as it had been to burrow into the ground right there for a nap, there was no way he could do that! His master sent him to take Albedo’s place in Mondstadt, and even if he’d messed up a little he couldn’t just go back to Dragonspine already.

Walking on his stupid human legs was so slow, but luckily he wasn’t in Mondstadt and he wasn’t under cover, so he was free to burrow into the ground and dig his way back to the city. Being able to take root and expel the alcohol from his body, as well as just being able to feel the dirt all around him made him feel infinitely better, he was ready to take this mission on again with gusto!

The only problem was… he didn’t have his clothes. As far as he knew, they were still with Kaeya. Captain Kaeya… he definitely wanted to see him again— oh, but he knew of Subject Three’s real identity. He helped hide it from the alchemy bench man though, so maybe it didn’t bother him! Subject Three could be just as good as any dumb human or homonculus!

Getting into the actual city without his human disguise was much harder, but he was well equipped to take on the challenge. Although the average WhopperFlower lacked the ability to change much beyond its corolla while its body remained hidden beneath the ground, his master’s alchemic intervention had done more than alter his appearance to that of a human, but rather it had made his entire body more malleable to disguises so to speak. Not only did it allow him to mimic with his entire body but he was not limited by size… within reason anyway; the greater the difference in size, the more taxing it was on his body, as he had so aptly shown last night while drunk.

Smaller was easier than bigger, but everything took practice. The crystal flies that had been drifting around him when he’d awoken served as excellent inspiration to float gently over the bridge and up, up over the wall, never arousing any suspicion as such a harmless creature. It was convenient both as a means of getting inside but also as a means of taking in his surroundings.

Maybe it was because subconsciously he was already looking for him, but as Subject Three fluttered over the red coloured rooves toward the square, he picked out Kaeya stumbling away from the Angel’s Share. His first thought was that perhaps he had gotten injured somehow, after all Subject Three had also woken up sore and disheveled, but it was also possible that Kaeya was affected by the same kind of drink as everyone else in the tavern. Either way, he needed to get back inside the apartment to retrieve his clothes in order to continue his mission.

Remaining safely up in the air, far above Kaeya’s head, he followed him right back to his building again. Unfortunately, there was no way he’d make it down in time to follow him through the door now, so his only other option was to search for an open window. Circling the building was proving to be a fruitless endeavour until a pair of shutters suddenly flew open, and low and behold it was Kaeya’s room on the other side. Frankly, Subject Three was a prodigy, his master clearly couldn’t have chosen a WhopperFlower more geniusly gifted in the art of infiltration.

He only had to perch on the flower box for a couple of minutes before Kaeya had shucked off a few layers and collapsed onto the bed… which was actually a problem, Subject Three noted as he entered the room and resumed his usual form, because his clothes were on the bed… under Kaeya. Retrieving them was out of the question, Kaeya was too heavy to pull them out from without waking him… Subject Three knew this for sure because he had already tried, resulting only in the whopper skittering under the bed when Kaeya groaned and shifted.

This wasn’t about to stop him though, he had already devised another, equally brilliant plan: There was a large, potted plant on the floor near the bedroom door, inside it was a big plant with fanning leaves. Easy. He slunk out from beneath the bed frame and reached up with his leafy appendages to take hold of it by the base and rip it free. It took much of the dirt with it so he did his best to shake most of it back into the pot before hopping back to the window and chucking it out.

Phase one had been executed perfectly. The real plant was gone and Kaeya was still fast asleep! Now was the easy part, hopping into the pot and nestling himself into the soil to take the form of the evicted plant and wait. Once Kaeya woke up and left the building, he could hop back out, grab his clothes and… … he.. didn’t think any farther ahead than that. This soil was very comfortable though and the size of the pot was actually pretty cozy, before long Subject Three had dozed off as well.

It might have been better for his initial plan if all the ruckus of Kaeya waking up in the morning hadn’t roused him and he’d remained quiet when he was called out. Unfortunately, it turned out that Subject Three had not been thorough enough with his disposal of the other plant. The floor was dirty and the plant was right there outside the window, all Kaeya had to do was look down! Foolish mistake after foolish mistake were what got him caught the first time, and this time was no different it seemed. Should he take his punishment and just return to his master in Dragonspine after all, accepting his failure?

Kaeya’s reaction didn’t seem aggressive though, he didn’t sound angry… he sounded more or less the same as usual. Maybe he really wasn’t that bothered about Subject Three’s identity, maybe Subject Three had already gone above and beyond and found an ally. Ignoring Kaeya’s objections, he dropped his disguise, wriggled free of the potting soil, and hopped out of the pot, nuzzling up to his leg with a soft squeak. Even without the drink from last night, he was still getting that weird feeling of wanting to be physically close to the human.

The feeling of Kaeya’s hands on him again made his skin prickle… but in a good way, making Subject Three squirm a little in his grasp. Kaeya also said he was allowed to continue his mission! Even though Kaeya didn’t think his master would be coming back… but that was the next step.. so he had to.

“Let’s clean you off then,” Kaeya sighed, carrying him towards a different room of the apartment.

As a mimic, Subject Three was sensitive to minute changes in demeanour and something about Kaeya seemed softer today. Both his tone and his motions as he cleaned and watered Subject Three, adjusting the temperature to his preference and drying him off in a plush blanket that smelled like Kaeya. Obviously he couldn’t burrow into it, but he could try.

When they were done, he was placed on the bed with his discarded clothes from last night while Kaeya cleaned up the floor then left, albeit awkwardly, to clean himself off next. Unfortunately, Subject Three still didn’t know how to put on any of these clothes. He did resume his mimicked form of Subject One and kind of picked up some of the garments, but he didn’t even want to wear all these stupid clothes again! He hated every single piece and still remained at a loss on how to wear any of them right up until Kaeya reappeared… in nothing but the towel Subject Three had dried off in.

Even last night Kaeya hadn’t fully undressed. He had never seen Kaeya fully naked, he noted, staring down at the towel while he was interrogated about his undressed state. How strange that he wanted to see… Subject Three watched intently as Kaeya moved about the room collecting his clothes, but to the whopper’s dismay he disappeared briefly into the bathroom before returning again, clothed.

Again, Kaeya was gentle, despite some frustration creeping into his tone when Subject Three voiced his disdain. In the end, Kaeya pulled every layer back onto him and he was once again stuck in Albedo’s stupid, stifling cloth prison of sensory despair. On the bright side, he was heading back to his mission despite his short comings, alongside Kaeya… but… no matter how close he walked to the knight, Kaeya never put his hand on him again the whole way there. Last night Subject Three had been tense to his touches, but today he was starved for them.

The walk this time was made in silence, only interrupted when brief greetings had to be exchanged with the humans milling about their morning business. Kaeya’s pace was brisk, challenging for Subject Three to match on his shorter legs and leaving him a little out of breath by the time they reached the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Learning to walk in this body was hard enough, but keeping up with Kaeya really put his skills to work.

When the two arrived inside, there were already people in the main hall. One of them was the blonde woman from yesterday, the other was a woman who Subject Three hadn’t seen before. She was also tall, and looked even taller with her big purple hat. He was sure thankful he didn’t have have to wear a hat. They both turned as the doors opened. “Ah, there he is,” the unfamiliar woman said, folding her arms. “You see? You worry far too much.”

“Were you looking for us?” Kaeya asked putting a hand on his hip. “I was running a bit late this morning, I certainly didn’t mean to make the Acting Grand Master worried on my behalf.~”

“Albedo” nodded. “Sorry, we were busy,” he agreed. He could also help Kaeya cover up why they were late!

The woman in the big hat raised her eyes brows, lifting a hand to not so subtly hide her smile. “Ohhh.”

Kaeya turned to Subject Three with a slightly tight smile. “Why don’t you head to your lab now?”

“Albedo” nodded obediently and scurried up to his office to… probably hide for the rest of the day, or so he’d planned anyway.

After pacing around the room, pulling the books off the shelf, opening them, failing to make sense of the scribbles and dropping them on the floor, staring out the window, sitting at the desk, sitting on the floor, staring out the window while sitting at the desk, and poking at some of the more dangerous looking items in the room for a while, he was starting to get antsy. Staying cooped up in this room just didn’t work for him. For the most part, whatever his master had done to better placate him had accomplished its purpose quite well, although he had some adverse reactions to certain parts of coexisting with humans, he didn’t feel such a strong urge to lash out and was generally level headed enough to reason… but spending time in this room felt like it was just undoing it all.

In the end, Subject Three decided it would be best for him to do as his master instructed and take a walk out to the alchemy bench; and so, leaving the office much messier than he’d found it, he headed down the stairs and back out the doors, walking along the stone roads towards the square. As expected, standing at the alchemy bench was the plain looking man.

For a while Subject Three just stood near the railing overlooking the square, as he pondered whether the office had left him in an appropriate mental state to handle whatever conversation he’d be dragged into if he approached the bench. Still… could he really just loiter around up here? Aside from looking suspicious, he’d probably be noticed sooner or later anyway if he continued to just stand around like this. Eventually, Subject Three made the executive decision to bite the proverbial bullet and make his way around to the stairs.

Mr. Alchemy Bench hadn’t noticed him yet when he’d first descended near the building across from him, the one that smelled of food, busy talking to a lady human who was also standing at the bench. They were the least of what held Subject Three’s attention now though as walking up from the entrance were a trio of familiar faces; his master had returned! Strangely though… the one he was accompanied by was Subject One, Albedo, and he was no longer donning the appearance of the Chief Alchemist himself. Presently, he was a tall man with brown hair, long enough to be pulled back in a short pony tail; it made no difference of course, Subject Three could recognize his master right away— and that child! That was the little human he took before!

How strange, as far as Subject Three knew, this wasn’t exactly how his master had described the next stage of their plan playing out. Well, he would just have to ask him! The breath he drew to call out was cut short though when he was suddenly grabbed, one hand over his mouth and the other around his waist, yanking him back around the side of the building and out of sight- and no doubt getting a nasty ice burn in the process. After a pained hiss following Subject Three’s adverse cryo reaction to being grabbed so suddenly came Kaeya’s voice in a low whisper. “Easy now… come with me.”

Obviously Subject Three struggled, his master was back which meant their plan was supposed to move forward to the next stage… whatever that was. He needed to tell him how he’d done as he was told, without even attacking anyone!

“If you rush in now you’ll only get yourself caught… maybe even killed,~” Kaeya pointed out. “It would certainly look strange if there were suddenly two Albedos in the square, wouldn’t it?”

Subject Three finally relaxed a little in Kaeya’s hold, causing the grip on him to slacken slightly in turn. He raise a hand to pull Kaeya’s off his face. “But my master is back,” he explained.

“Your master,” Kaeya reiterated, arching a brow down at him as he tugged him further behind the building lest the trio spot them on their way to the stairs. “Do you mean to tell me that Albedo is a fake as well?”

The mimic frowned a little, shaking his head and fully turning to Kaeya now that the grip on him was loose enough. It was probably only to ensure he didn’t try to run off, but Subject Three revelled in the continued contact of Kaeya’s hand on his waist nonetheless. “That isn’t my master, the tall man with them is.”

Kaeya seemed surprised, granted Subject Three was surprised to see his master looking that way as well. “Isn’t that Joel’s father?”

“Who’s Joel?”

“The young boy with them-… his father went missing on Dragonspine while looking for the summit, he was presumed dead,” Kaeya explained.

“I don’t know about that,” Subject Three replied. “I just know that’s my master, and that’s the little human I got in trouble for taking.”

Kaeya frowned pensively. “Albedo is back and your master has a new identity, doesn’t that mean you’ve been discarded?”

Did it mean that? Just because his master chose a new approach didn’t mean there was no more plan though! “I still have to talk to him,” Subject Three stated firmly.

“Not like this,” Kaeya said even more firmly.. successfully overruling Subject Three unfortunately. “If you’d really like to speak with that man, I can facilitate a meeting between the two of you in private.~”

Even though he wasn’t that gung-ho on compromising, this seemed like a sensible approach to the matter as far as Subject Three could tell. “I… okay,” he conceded, not without a bit of a pout though. “When can I talk to him then?”

“Tonight perhaps, but you can’t keep standing in public like this. The Traveller and Paimon returned to Mondstadt last night as well and while I doubt those two would have stuck around long enough to still be here, I wouldn’t risk running into them if I were you,” Kaeya answered.

“I can’t go back to hiding in the office though,” the whopper pointed out.

“You can wait in my apartment then, if you promise to behave yourself.~ I’ll be back when my shift ends.”

Ah, he was allowed to keep staying with Kaeya? Subject Three perked up again at this. “Yes, I’ll be good,” he confirmed eagerly. Following instructions well meant rewards, that was how his master trained him initially… even if the reward was mostly lack of punishment. If he was good for Kaeya wouldn’t he also be rewarded though?

It was lucky that the building which Kaeya lived in was accessible via some side stairs and the street it was on was residential and out of the way, which kept them out of sight for the most part. Kaeya had accompanied him up just to unlock the door but headed back out immediately after, leaving Subject Three alone in the room. Another enclosed space he had to figure out how to deal with… but this time he couldn’t throw any books on the floor or Kaeya would be mad. Even though he wanted to please Kaeya similarly to his master, it wasn’t quite the same; he had to follow his master’s orders or he would be punished and maybe even killed, but for Kaeya it wasn’t because he was afraid of him… he just desperately craved the knight’s acknowledgement.

That being said, Subject Three needed to occupy himself in some way that wasn’t tearing apart Kaeya’s living space. The room with the comfy pot was where he was most familiar with so he decided to stay in there. Ideally he’d just get back in the pot and go to sleep, not having to be shaped like a human would be an amazing first step… but he was still stuck in these stupid clothes. He couldn’t even remember how Kaeya had removed them last night, a lot of things were fuzzy from last night actually. Kaeya had put them on for him this morning though… could he just do that backwards? He’d missed most of it but maybe he could still piece it together since it was fresh in his mind.

There was only one way to find out. Subject Three took a seat on the edge of Kaeya’s bed to begin. He distinctly remembered that the gloves and boots went on last, as he recalled being disappointed after thinking he might’ve gotten out of wearing them this time. With enough tugging at various parts, he managed to get one glove off, and using both his freed hand and his teeth he got the other off too. The gauntlets were still on but they didn’t bother him as much, just having the ability to feel with his hands was enough for now. The shoes were similar to the gloves, in that they mostly just involved pulling but he spent most of his time rolling on his back while he struggled to yank the things off, leaving him quite winded by the end.

The discarded items were launched ruthlessly off the bed, miraculously failing to hit anything but the floor. All of his struggling had even slipped his belt off his shoulder which left it sitting near his waist where it was catching on his dumb coat’s stupid decorations. Pulling didn’t do much to help the coat though, no matter which way he pulled, it remained caught on some part of his body. Eventually, he gave up, he was satisfied just being out of the boots and gloves, and frankly he was tired after all that struggling.

With a sigh, Subject Three flopped back onto the bed again, using his heels to push himself as he shimmied up to the pillows and— his coat moved! It slipped down his shoulders just like belt! He kept shuffling his body up until he was all the way on the pillows and his coat was almost at his elbows, allowing him to lift his arms out and push the whole thing, belt and all, past his hips and kick it right off the bed. Being in only his shirt and bottoms felt freeing in itself at this point, and he finally relaxed back into the pillow taking a long breath and… noticing… they smelled like Kaeya… he turned his face more towards the pillow he was laying on a breathed in again. They really smelled like Kaeya.

Scent wasn’t a sense he relied on much in his normal life, sight and touch were his primary means of experiencing the world as a WhopperFlower. Ever since he’d started his mission in Mondstadt he was much more aware of the smells around him, and there were so many different ones too in a way that just didn’t exist on Dragonspine. Last night though, the one scent he distinctly remembered was Kaeya and how he smelled when he’d carried Subject Three back from the Angel’s Share or how he’d smelled the same yet… a little bit different looming over him on the bed, sweat glistening on his body.

Even though the smell lingering on the pillows was making his face and body feel warm again, he just wanted to sink his face deeper into the pillows. Being surrounded by Kaeya’s scent like this felt so good to him, it made him feel like Kaeya was touching him again… or.. not exactly; it felt the way Kaeya’s hand had made him want to be touched more, and it made his breath shorten and his thighs squirm. The smell alone was making him hard in his pants but Kaeya wasn’t even here to help him, how was he supposed to find the same release? He couldn’t go looking for him when he wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment.

Subject Three whimpered into the pillows, reaching his own hand down to desperately palm the growing bulge between his legs, still trapped behind two layers of clothes he didn’t know how to get out of. It didn’t feel the same as when Kaeya did it, Kaeya’s motion were confident and deliberate, and felt so much better with nothing in between. He desperately needed some kind of friction but he didn’t know how to get it himself, he couldn’t grip his dick through his pants the way Kaeya had without them but he couldn’t pull his pants down past his hips without opening them and he was completely stumped on the button!

With a frustrated groan Subject Three rolled onto his stomach instead, pressing his face into the pillows with his arms tucked underneath them. From this angle, he found he could sort of squirm his hips against the duvet for some kind of stimulation but… it just wasn’t enough. Still, that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, desperate pants and whimpers muffled by Kaeya’s pillow left damp by his breaths. Despite the wetness seeping into the fabric of his tighter inner pants, his needy squirming and rutting against the mattress just wasn’t enough to relieve him.

By the time the sounds of a key clicking in the front door caught his attention, Subject Three had accomplished little else than reducing himself to a flushed, panting mess… and he was supposed to meet with his master this evening! Ah.. would Kaeya be mad at him? In the end he’d still been bad. In a feeble attempt to mask his state, the whopper rolled onto his back again and lifted his knees to squeeze his thighs shut as the bedroom door opened.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “The Infection.”

Sorry this one is going to be a little longer than normal, but it is sort of relevant for the direction that I have decided to take. I am setting the groundwork for something pretty big, so I hope you can all enjoy. I hope to get out something a little smaller and easier the next one, so bare with me. Hope you like it. 

He jolted upright frantically feeling around in the darkness for a light, anything, anything at all to stave off the feeling of dread. His frantic sweat-slicked fingers fumbled with the comm light on the wall before finally flicking on the interior bulbs bathing the room in a delicate blue glow. He sat up on the edge of the bed and took a long, shaky breath dropping his head into his hands. A soft whimper accompanied him, and he reached out with a hand to stroke the dog’s ears. Waffles sat on the bed beside him head lowered and cocked to the side making sure he was okay.

 He couldn’t have been sure, maybe he was and maybe he wasn’t. His PTSD wasn’t so bad as it once had been, but every now and then, the dreams still plagued him. Though he could not remember the content he was still aware of the feelings of dread that had washed over him. An impending sense of doom. He took another deep breath and reached down to strap on his prosthetic. Perhaps a walk would calm him down, it was unlikely he would be getting to sleep again tonight.

 ***

Out in the hallway, the ships internal lights had been dimmed to simulate dusk in synchronicity with the circadian rhythms of the average human. The ship was still, despite the undoubted movement of the graveyard crew working to keep the ship through the night. He was unlikely to meet any of them at this hour as graveyard shift would consist of the operational minimum of crew members required to run the ship. As a class D-6 Battle Cruiser with a Warp Capable Alpha 1 engine the Harbinger required a two man bridge crew, five auxiliary and a twenty member team of engineers to operate…. A surprisingly low number truth be told as the crew numbers could level out well over 100.

 By way of his late night wandering, he found himself down in the crew quarters….. He momentarily played with the idea of waking Sunny for the company against his still uneasy mind, but he quickly dismissed it. He couldn’t do that, perhaps he would find Krill, the Vrul had no need of sleep, though he wasn’t exactly psychologically supportive. Sure he would try to help, but he only knew what he read from textbooks, he wasn’t exactly intuitive. He sighed and backed himself against the wall. Waffles sat at his feet leaning her head against his human leg as he stared into space. Inside his stomach churned, butterflies rode up and down his throat, and he absently rocked from side to side trying to stave off the nervousness.

 He tried to think of something else to distract himself from the fear. His thoughts crossing to the starborn Conn, so “lovingly’ known as convict. They had recently made efforts to bring him aboard the ship. The further they went out into unknown territory the more extreme and dangerous their work became, and despite Conn’s ability to survive in the most extreme of conditions, the vacuum of space, it was becoming increasingly dangerous, so the ingenious mechanics crew had rigged together a portable gravity field generator to fix the one problem that prohibited the starborn to enter the ship: the fact that his neck would likely snap and his own weight would crush his internal structures under the weight of gravity.

 Someone had even managed to rig together a set of translation gloves, the kid that used to be used for translating sign language. It was relieving to know that soon he wouldn’t be the only one that Conn could incessantly annoy.

 His stomach churned again, and with annoyance, he pushed himself away from the wall. Something felt so wrong, and of course deep down he knew that it was nothing, but that didn’t make the feeling any less real. WIth waffles at his heels, he continued his walk down the length of the ship staring up at the ceiling and just…. Thinking.

 He turned a corner startled out of his revery as waffles began to growl. He turned to look at her with confusion and sudden worry. Waffles NEVER growled….. At least not on a silent ship in the dead of the night when there was nothing there.

 They are here.

Commander Vir nearly leapt out of his skin spinning in a tight circle as the whispered voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Eyes moving wildly, his heart pounded in his chest, as he turned towards one of the dark service tunnels leading into the inner bowls of the ship, and there he saw it, ghostly white ribbons fluttering and scattering on a backdrop of darkness waving behind the skeletal white face and reflective black eyes. The starborn drifted from the darkness, his skeletal body so similar to a human but disproportionate enough to add an itching sense of horror.

 “Get out of my head convict.” The commander snarled. The dog growled again, and he could hardly blame her.

 They are here.

 Commander Vir ventured forward a step as the starborn drifted a little closer hands floating out to either side of him, gloves unused. He looked... wrong …. Somehow.

 You feel it too, you feel it too human, you can feel it You Can feel it YOU CAN FEEL IT.

 Commander Vir grabbed at the sides of his head in a futile effort to fight against the raising volume. Beside him the dog began to bark frantically.

 YOU CAN FEEL IT!

 The starborn lurched forward from the darkness, and Commander Vir was just able to pull himself to the side as the starborn rushed past him. The dog stepped in front of him teeth pulled back in a rabid snarl. Commander Vir clutched his head as his mouth began to go dry.

 Oh no.

 “Commander!”

***

 The frantic howling  of the dog had woken members of the crew who had rushed to his help. Krill arrived at about the same time the others were subduing the starborn. The dryness in his mouth slowly retreated and he relaxed as Krill came to his aid. The starborn was carted off to the infirmary unresponsive and cattonic. He rocked slowly back and forth in the air mouth open making an unnerving dry gurgling sound from the depth of his throat. As all this was happening a member of the night crew called him up to the bridge, and he went with some amount of confusion.

 “Status?” He wondered walking onto the bridge and taking a seat in the Captain’s chair.

 The navigation operator turned in his seat, “Short range radar in picking up multiple signals, sir. Too small to be asteroids, way to small, but there are….. Well there must be hundreds of them, and they’re just floating there sir. We already tried exterior hull cameras, but we’ve got nothing. Whatever they are, we can’t see them.”

 “Give me a size estimation lieutenant.” He said turning in his chair to monitor the rest of the bridge crew at their stations.

 “No bigger than two meeters sir, probably less than that, but there are hundreds of them.”

 Commander Vir tapped his chin for a long moment of thought before, “Prep a raptor,  I’ll be down in five so we can get a closer look. Lieutenant, you have the chair.” With a swift turn, he twisted on his heels and made his way down to the docking bay.

 ***

By the time he reached Bay 1, the raptor was already in place. The bird was a rather clunky piece of equipment, but it had to be fitted with all the weapons and scientific equipment as one could argue was prudent. Commander Vir took a moment to suit up in one of the auxiliary rooms getting help from a crewmember to strap on the tight fitting space/flight suit, attached helmet, control enabled gloves, and vital monitoring systems that had become standard on the ship since Krill had arrived.

 As he was strapping himself into the cockpit, he looked over to see Sunny and the other Drev running onto the floor alerted by the sudden commotion that had overtaken the ship. The cockpit sealed over him still allowing him a wide angled view of the bay doors before him. He reached up and pulled the straps into position about his body allowing them to auto auto adjust around his chest and arms.

 He wrapped his hands around the ship’s controls and auto engaged the targeting, and navigations systems. Neon circles, vestors and numbers appeared on the inside of his visor as he powered up the engines spitting purple tinted blue fire from the two rear thrusters. The room cleared for his takeoff, and before he knew it, he shot off into the vacuum of space and it’s endless darkness. “Alright, lieutenant, load the location feed.” In response to his request, The screen in front of him lit up, highlighting what must have been at least 90 to 100 location vectors, but by his vision there didn’t seem to be anything there.

 Granted this part of space was rather dark, thousands of miles from anything but an unusual formation of asteroid fields dominated by monolithic stones the size of small moons,. WIth one hand he toggled the acceleration and sped into the intervening space delicately avoiding the space debris with the delicate touch of a surgeon.

 “I’m here lieutenant, but I don’t see anything.”

 “How can you not captain, they….. Holy hell Commander, they’re all around you.”

“You mean the asteroids because yes, yes they are everywhere.”

 We see you.

 Commander Vir froze where he sat wrecking the rotating engines around with a quick burst to pull himself to a stop. Hiis heat began to pound in his chest, his mouth went dry.

 “Commander, commander what’s wrong. You’re pulse just spiked, and your blood pressure just shot up, are you ok.” that was Krill this time, but he was to frozen to respond bogged down as he was in a cold sweat

 We see you hiding in there….. In skin meat sack you call a body. The voice reverberated in his head seeming to rattle through his bones with the power of a speaker system with the base turned up all the way.

 His lips quivered as he looked around following the slowly drifting location vectors, but still unable to see anything, “I…. I don’t know what your talking about…. I’m not h-hiding.”

 “Commander, repeat that would you, we didn’t quite catch it.”

 Come out of there Deus and face us in your true form.

 A line of sweat trickled down his spine, “Now I don’t know who you’re talking to, or what you’re talking about.” His hands slowly tightened around the joysticks as his trigger finger inched towards the trigger on the forward guns.

 LIES!

 He cried out in pain at the volume as his eye lurched out of focus. His ship was jogged to the side, something thudded against the hull, once twice than three times. He lifted his head shaking his vision... and screamed.

 The creature stared back at him twisted and skeletal with charred brown and black skin, horribly long spidery fingers and an open mouth with chattering twisting teeth. It lurched its head towards the glass causing a thud to burst through the cockpit. Behind it strings of charred black fanned backwards into darkness.

 WIth a frantic burst born of instinct, he jarred the acceleration and then maneuvered reverse thrusters at the last moment. Throwing himself against the harness, and the creature off into blackness. But he could see it now, fingers clutching around the side of the cockpit….. Hundreds of them.

 Come out Deus.

 Come to us

 Come with us

 Face us

 Coward

 We see you.

 His head was beginning to grow light, his mouth was as dry as sandpaper, he felt as if he was about to fall out of himself. He gritted his teeth against the feeling begging his body not to give in, not to be overwhelmed as the sudden burst of telepathic voices threatened to send him into a wild convulsions.

 He rotated the joystick to the left and forward sending them spinning diagonally into the dark. Bodies flew past the cockpit’s windscreen, as the pressure cuffs in the pant legs of his suit contracted to restrict blood from pooling in his legs.

 DEUS.

 His vision was fading.

 “COMMANDER, commander, come in what’s happening.”

 “He’s going into convulsions.”

 “Someone needs to help him NOW!”

 “I can’t, something’s blocking our systems.”

 HE couldn’t move thousands of hands obscured his vision climbing and rolling on his windscreen. Face and eyes, and charred skin.

 Calm your mind human, and I will help you.

 “Conn?” The commander muttered turning his head groggily inside the cockpit. Even as he did something seemed to flow around his consciousness beating back the hundreds of clamoring voices.  Hurry, I cannot hold them back for long.

 With a desperate jolt, he turned the raptor in another sharp series of spins careening over and around asteroids at one point slipping through a gap that left him only a foot or two to either side. Bodies flew in all directions. Hands grasped at the cockpit lit from the background by the light of distant, nebulae. He didn’t know where he was, didn’t know which was way up or which way was down, but he followed the vestors flying by instinct when those weren’t enough acutely aware of the war being fought around his mind.

 Conn Vs a hundred.

 He broke from the asteroid field rocketing towards the ship with wild abandon. Fingers still clasped at the corners of his vision. He only had one chance, “OPEN THE BAY DOORS!” He yelled into the com, “NOW NOW NOW.” Somewhere, someone must have heard him, and the doors opened just as the raptor passed through, upside down.

 He rotated the thrusters and gave a powerful backwards burst which dropped them to the ground and had them skidding across the floor. His head rattled and his body jolted as sparks went up in front of his vision. He was jolted back and forth. His head rattled inside his helmet. The raptor spun once, twice on its head and then came to a halt. Lights flashed red through the cracked, but not shattered, cockpit screen. He could hear frantic voices. The wind screen screeched and cracked, and then opened. He couldn’t move, suspended upside down as he was groggy and disoriented.

 “Hold him steady, easy, there we go, now pull him out.” The release catch snapped open and he slid into a set of waiting arms. Through his disorientation he recognized the blue carapace.

 “What in the hell are those things!”

 “SHIT.”

 He turned his head slowly to the side looking past the trail of destruction he had left through the docking bay. Scattered along he floor, amidst the pieces of broken paneling were bodies. Charred and shrunken twitching and gurgling as they were slowly crushed to death by the weight of their own bodies.

 “Lay him down. Someone help me get the helmet off.” A bright light was shown into his eyes and he squinted trying to push away whoever it was. Arms tightened around him.

 “Stay Still Commander.”

 “Bridge team to docking bay, bridge team to docking bay we have a problem. THEY’RE CRAWLING EVERYWHERE, THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF THEM!” The entire crew was awake now, he could hear them, the panic and confusion at what was going on.

 He tried to swat away the light again “Tell them to turn on the exterior hull gravity.”

 “Commander?”

 “Just do it.”

 Inside his head, he felt it as Conn gave way. The voices flooded into his head, and not moments later everything had gone black. Outside a jolt ran through the hull of the ship, and the clinging infected starborn were dragged downwards crushed and choking against their own weight. Conn stopped his frantic twisting, and commander Vir’s seizure subsided.

 The GA was alerted immediately, and samples were taken of the recovered, and now quarantined, corpses.

 Something was very, very wrong.

[littlenoona]

You need us: The Buried Secret.

You need us: The Buried Secret.

You need us: The Torturous Truth.

You need us: The Forced Reconciliation.

Requested.

Summary: Asking for protection comes at a big price and you’re more than ready to pay it, but betraying the ones that provide it, is a big mistake. 

There’s a bit of teasing throughout the entire thing, but if you’re mainly interested in the good stuff, it’s under the second divider.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, killing, noona kink, oppa kink, babygirl and kitten kink, domination, filth, degradation(kinda), punishment, threatening behaviour, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms with multiple partners, spanking, tiny bit of fluff and angst somewhere, but mainly just filth.

Genre: Smut, so much fucking filth(there’s a story in there if you squint, I think).

Pairing: DomMafia!OT7 x Reader(F).

Word Count: 10,036.

Masterlist.

Stepping outside, pushing past the automatic doors the sun warmed your skin, a nice contrast to the cold inside the shop. Your eyes flickered around to the many faces passing you, minding their own busy lives. 

Your eyes landed on a tall and muscular man dressed in a black suit not far from you, smaller people pushing past him as he was standing still, his black hair slicked back - he was watching you intensely, a small smile on his features as he nodded and acknowledged you. 

A lackey. 

You nodded back at him with a small smile before you turned around and started walking back to the headquarters, it was a nice and sunny day after all. 

Taking the long way you passed by the shoreline, enjoying the sun high in the sky, the faint smell of the sea and the warm wind playing with your hair - the noise of parents ushering their kids to come back and get smothered in more sunscreen. 

A small smirk appeared on your lips, if only your life had always been this good - this easy.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?” a dark voice questioned next to you, your head turning to meet the gaze of a man you had never seen before, piercing green eyes, blonde hair, tall and slim - his appearance that of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. 

“It is. It’s best to enjoy it, since it’s such a rarity.” you responded, your eyes darting to the lackey that was quickly approaching, your hand gesturing a stop motion by your thigh, confirming you were in no danger and his steps slowing down as he nodded. 

“I better head home before my food gets cooked by the sun.” you laughed, turning on your heels and walking away, hearing a faint giggle by the stranger behind you.

People always approached you randomly, as if you gave off an aura of warmth and welcome, finding you easy to talk to. 

As you passed the rotating doors, the smile of Ae-Cha greeted you behind the reception - her smile never failed to swoon you, she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Her pitch black and shiny hair, falling down to her lower back, her hourglass figure and, despite not being that tall, amazingly long legs. 

Her appearance was probably why they hired her, as a stunning front to the building, though she did not lack in the personality department, she always made you laugh and you got along great, she was probably the closest you had to a best friend. 

“Y/N!” she stood up from her chair and practically yelled across the lobby, making your face nearly split open from the smile that appeared.

“Did you get the snacks for me?!” she asked quickly as you got closer.

“Oh, that’s it, is it? That’s the only reason you’re so happy to see me?” you retorted, making her feign deep hurt, her hand flying to her chest and a mouth falling ajar. 

“How could you believe such a thing?!” she tried, rolling her eyes while trying to bite back a smile.

“Mmhm!” you laughed, handing her the bag of snacks you had bought for her, watching as she nearly screeched in glee. 

“The heads are up stairs. They requested me to send you up as soon as you came back.” Ae-Cha confirmed, not even looking up at you from the bag in her hands. 

‘Odd.’ you thought to yourself, ‘Were you in trouble? Had something happened?’

Shaking your head you stepped towards the elevator, pinging it the doors opened instantly and you stepped in, choosing the top floor, 24th. 

Sighing as the elevator took you up, you remembered how much you hated the lounge music that was playing, wishing it was silent instead, ‘Who makes this music? And why did someone think it was a good idea to stick it in a place where you can’t escape it?’ you grumbled in your thoughts. 

Reaching the top floor you stepped out of the elevator, instantly hearing the voices of the heads - they were loud, it sounded like an argument. 

“We shouldn’t be asking this of her, do you really want to put her in that kind of danger?!” Jimin yelled. 

“We don’t have a choice, Jimin-ah.” Namjoon responded calmly, “She’s the only one we can trust. We know she won’t betray us.”

“Just send one of the other girls. We have so many of them?” Jungkook snapped back. 

“They won’t do. They aren’t loyal, not like Y/N, anyway.” Yoongi responded equally as calm as Namjoon. 

You stopped around the corner of the hallway, pondering what kind of situation they were talking about. They occasionally sent you out to do small things and you had no problem with that, wanting to help in every way you could to repay their generosity - and their protection. 

Jimin huffed - clearly not happy with the situation, he’d always been very protective of you, sometimes even trailing you himself instead of sending a lackey, not trusting them enough. 

“She’s been in our circle for years. We’ve protected her for years. She knows us in and out, better than anyone. She came to us with nothing on her hands and knees, we’ve given her everything, taken care of her and she’s equally taken care of us. It has to be her - she has a bond with us none of the other girls have.” Jin finally spoke, his voice deep and serious, though his voice faltered and suddenly sounded full of concern, “We’ll have to make sure there are enough people nearby to protect her, if things go wrong.”

“Eavesdropping is very rude, babygirl.” Taehyung’s deep voice rung through your head as he popped around the corner, making you yelp in shock. 

You hung your head in shame, “Sorry..” you whispered. 

A small chuckle left him as he stepped behind you and put his large hand on your back, pushing you forward into the room, visible to the other men now all staring at you. 

“How long have you been standing there, Y/N?” Hoseok asked with a gentle smile. 

“A little while.” you confirmed, “I’m sorry. I heard Jimin-ah yelling and I didn’t want to interfere.” 

“So rude..” Taehyung growled close to your ear, still standing behind you, his voice playful. 

His voice had you sighing, he always knew exactly how to get to you and how to get you soaking - your heart beat increasing at his close proximity to you. 

Hoseok sighed, “It’s okay Y/N, we needed to talk to you about this anyway. I’m sure you heard a lot of it.” 

You nodded. 

The men proceeded to sit down on the sofa and chairs surrounding a coffee table at the edge of the room - you followed and sat down on your knees opposite the sofa where Jimin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jin and Taehyung were sat, Yoongi on your right in a chair and Namjoon on your left in the other chair. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jin explained the situation at hand, “We need you to pose as an escort for someone who is going to meet with the head of a different organisation. We need you to wear a microphone so we can hear what is being said.”

Jimin quickly added, “If you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to, noona.” 

Taking a deep breath you had already made your decision, “Anything you need. I’ll do it.” 

“That’s our girl.” Yoongi smiled at you. 

Jin explained more of the situation to you and mainly why they needed you to do this when another girl appeared in the room with drinks, placing them down on the table and standing next to Namjoon. Everyone knew that she had a big thing for Namjoon, but he never acted on it or let her come close, though it still made your blood boil, your jealousy running wild. 

She put her hand on his shoulder, smiling while listening to something he was telling her under his breath. Your eyes ran up and down her figure, her long brown hair, purple eyes because of the contacts she always wore and her skimpy little dress, you could almost see the slick running down her thighs from just looking at him. 

Your eyes squinted slightly as you near growled at her - she didn’t notice, but Namjoon did, his eyes meeting yours and a slight smirk appearing on his features. 

“Y/N-ah? Are you listening?” Jin spoke sternly, your head returning to him in an instant. 

“Yes, oppa.” you nodded. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, not believing you.

Namjoon leaned forward and out of his seat, you felt the warmth his hand under your chin, turning your head to the side to look at him, his thumb gently running across the skin of your cheek, “Are you jealous, kitten?” 

You looked down, not answering his question verbally, but your actions confirmed it, making him chuckle slightly - letting go of your chin he returned to his seat, so satisfied. 

“We’ll make sure there are enough people around you, should you need help, as well as a man at every exit.” Yoongi spoke, “But we can’t be there ourselves, because they know who we are.” 

You nodded slightly, nervous at the job given to you, “When is it?” 

“Tonight.” Jungkook confirmed.

Your eyes widened, that means you had little time to prepare, let alone get ready. 

“It’ll be okay, Y/N-ah. We’ve taken care of everything and you just need to be there. You don’t need to talk, you don’t need to do anything other than look good.” Hoseok smiled, “Which you have an easy time doing.” he continued with a wink, making your face heat up a little. 

Despite years of being with these men, in more ways than one, they always made you flustered. 

“Okay.” you said, standing up from the floor, “I’ll go home and get ready then.” 

“One of us will drive you there, so come here when you’re ready. We’ll go over a few things before you go.” Jin spoke. 

Nodding you bowed and made your way out of the building and home, the next few hours being spent getting ready and making sure you looked eye catching.

You had opted for a short dress, black, silk, showing off your cleavage in a square neckline with small sleeves that hid your upper arms, your pushup bra making your cleavage almost distract you too it looked so good. Matching a pair of low heels, giving your ass that extra lift and making your legs look amazing. Leaving your hair down, you stuck on a black choker to finish the look and a black purse to carry your stuff. 

Everyone was gone when you came back to the building and went through the lobby, the only person left was a guard who simply nodded at you when you entered the building and went for the elevator. 

The lights had dimmed in the top floor, the heads surely sharing drinks and planning their usual business, probably slightly nervous because of the dinner you were having with someone who had no problem slicing your throat in an instant and feeling no remorse, fuck, it scared you. 

Walking through the open door, you knocked on the door frame, their chatter stopping and their eyes falling on you - you could almost hear the collective boners rising in the room. 

“Where’s Jimin-ah, Namjoon and yoongi-oppa?” you tried to slice through the silence as you walked through the room. 

“Finding a working microphone, which is apparently hard in this fucking building.” Jin spoke, sounding annoyed. He was always composed around the other men, even if you tried desperately to fluster him. 

“If not, I could try and record it on my phone, but put it in my bra so it seems innocent.” you offered.

“Keep that thought, we might have to.” Hoseok scoffed. 

Jungkook stood up from the sofa and walked over to you, his hand reaching for and spreading out flat on your stomach as he circled you, his hand trailing along your side, then your back then your hip as he stopped in front of you. 

Your eyes flickered up to his, watching as his eyes trailed up and down your body.

His other hand moved up your stomach, between your breasts and to the choker on your neck, lightly playing with it, “I’m not sure I’m okay with you leaving the building wearing something like this.” he growled, “You’re not supposed to be this exposed for anyone but us.” 

Your heart started beating faster at his words - did you go too overboard? Did he not approve of it? 

His fingers stopped playing with your choker and instead wrapped around your throat, slightly tight, his eyes piercing yours with a furrowed brow - you sighed at his touch, watching him as his lips came closer and closer to yours, your body leaning into his, aching for it. 

“Jungkook-ah.” Taehyung spoke firmly, “You’ll make her ruin her underwear.” 

Jungkook clenched his jaw, “That’s the point, hyung.” 

“She doesn’t have time. It’ll have to wait.” Taehyung sighed, “As much as I’d love to watch you fuck her.” 

You bit your lip at Taehyung’s words, remembering how good Jungkook feels thrusting harshly in and out of you. 

“Sorry, baby.” Jungkook whispered, placing a gentle and quick kiss on your lips, before letting go of your body and returning to his place on the sofa. 

You sighed, running your hand through your hair, relaxing your body again. 

“Y/N-ah. Come here, I’ll show you the layout of the restaurant.” Jin finally spoke again. 

You walked over to his desk where he was standing with a blueprint of the place you were going placed neatly in front of him - leaning forward and getting a good look at the place, you vaguely remembered being there before. 

Jin pointed at the map, “The blue crosses here, here and here, are our guards. They will help you if you need it. This red cross here, is an emergency exit, it’s next to the bar, and the green cross here, is the entrance. When you get in, make sure you map it all out in your head, so you know where you’re going without hesitation.” 

You nodded, studying the layout and the placements of the tables, the bar, the exits and the entrance. 

Leaning forward entirely you rested your upper body on the desk, memorising the place you were going from its above view, to ensure you could place everything where it needed to be once you entered the restaurant. 

Jin sat down in his chair, simply enjoying the view of you as you worked on capturing the blueprint to your memory - your eyes flickered up to his as he watched you through hooded lids and a furrowed brow, his eyes trailing down to your cleavage, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y/N.” Hoseok strained in the chair behind you. 

“Mhm?” you hummed in response, your eyes still trailing the drawing in front of you. 

“Spread your legs for me.” he spoke. 

You raised an eyebrow without thinking, realising that you must be really exposed in your short dress from behind, but none the less doing as he requested instantly. 

“What a view..” he whispered, “Your lace underwear leaves almost nothing to the imagination.” 

“Aish, do we really need this meeting? Can’t she just stay here?” Taehyung pouted, “I mean, look at her!” 

You giggled softly.

“I’m starting to debate that too.” Jin spoke, his voice laced equally with lust. 

A silence fell in the room as, you assume, the men’s eyes were trailing your body, desperately trying to keep control of themselves, you feigning innocence and smiling sweetly, the attention sending warmth to your core. 

“I recognise that pussy anywhere.” Jimin suddenly spoke, entering the room with Namjoon. 

You wiggled your behind slowly in response. 

“Don’t tease, baby. You know what’ll happen.” Jimin spoke again, a warning in his tone. 

You couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Did you find a working microphone?” Jin stood up, hoping they had.

Namjoon held up a small device and nodded with pride. 

You stood up straight and turned around as Namjoon came close to you, “Turn around, beautiful, I’ll need to put it under your dress.” 

Doing as he asked, you moved your hair to the side, feeling him unzip your dress and pulling it down to expose your torso - he put the small block of the device on your back, barely noticeable, then dragging the wire around your side and up to your front, making you turn around. 

He attached it to the front of your bra that was still covered by the dress, where it would prove to be most useful but still hidden. His fingers occasionally grazing your skin, you couldn’t help but feel your core aching from the continuous teasing today had provided. 

You closed your eyes, taking every opportunity to get lost in his presence - his hands gently holding your shoulder as he made you turn around again, to close your dress. His finger dragging across your side and back to secure the wire. The warmth of his hands peaking when he pressed his palm against your lower back, holding the block in place as he slipped your dress back up and closed it with the zipper. 

“I don’t see you telling him off for touching her like that, hyung!” Jungkook pouted at Taehyung, making him and you laugh. 

Namjoon clueless and asking what was going on, Jin used the distraction to move around his desk and in front of you, “You sure you’re okay with doing this?” his hand gently holding on to your arm, a worry in his eyes.

You nodded, “Anything for you.” 

His hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch with a gentle smile, loving how he always looked at you with such adoration. 

“I’ll drive her there. It’s time.” Hoseok interrupted, making you turn away from Jin and nod. 

Following Hoseok your eyes met Jimin’s, clear worry on his face you stopped next to him, placing your hand gently on his neck and pulling him close, you placed a soft kiss on the side of his lips.

“I’ll be fine, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” you said with a smile, his breath finally releasing. 

You continued down the corridor with Hoseok, getting into the elevator none of you spoke - reaching the basement of the building you followed the man to his car, a matte black Nissan GTR R35.

He opened the door for you as always, before he got in himself and started the car, the rumbling of the engine tickling your ears and body as he drove out. 

You kept fidgeting with your hands and trying to calm your racing heart when you felt Hoseok’s hand on your bare thigh, “Nervous?” he asked calmly. 

“Yeah.” you breathed, “More so of messing up than being killed.” you laughed. 

Hoseok smiled and you felt your nervousness gave you a break, his bright smile and aura always helping you feel more at ease.

“You’ll be fine, gorgeous.” he spoke with confidence, “I know you will.” 

Turning the wheel with his remaining hand, not wanting to let go of you, he stopped at a parking lot close to the restaurant. 

“When you go in, ask the waiter to be seated with Chul-Moo. He will know that you are just there to be arm candy, that you won’t know anything about the organisation.” 

“Okay.” you nodded.

His hand came up to your chin, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss on your lips, his feeling so soft, leaving you lost in him for as long as he would grant you it. 

Pulling away he ushered you out of the car, “Go on, baby.” 

You smiled, opening the car door, closing it behind you and walking towards the entrance of the restaurant, hearing Hoseok’s car leave. 

You’re on your own now, girl. 

The man standing at the entrance opened the door for you and as soon as you entered you tried placing all the points Jin had showed you earlier, finding it easier than you had expected.

A younger man approached you and asked who you were here to see.

“Chul-Moo.” you confirmed, watching as the mans features faltered for a second before he regained his composure.

“Right this way, please.” he said as he guided you to the middle of the big room. placing you at a large table, “I believe he’s in the bathroom and will return shortly. Can I get you a drink?” 

“Water, please.” you asked kindly. 

He nodded at your request and walked away quickly. 

Your eyes scanned the room, landing on every exit and every face that it accompanied, knowing they were there for you when your thoughts were interrupted by a man sliding the chair away from the table and sitting down. 

“Hello, Y/N.” his voice deep and rough, he was an older guy, maybe in his 50′s, his suit sitting snug around his stomach, his grey beard and hair well kept, eyes as kind as your granddad’s used to be, equally as many wrinkles. 

You smiled, “Hello, Chul-Moo.” 

He returned your smile and you both left your conversation there, waiting for the other head to arrive, knowing you didn’t need to speak further and it probably proved best to not seem too friendly as you were simply supposed to be his escort, the silence only interrupted by the waiter bringing your water. 

Not long passed before the head arrived. He was young, tall, had a threatening walk, his eyes piercing blue and black hair slicked back, his suit fitting tightly around his very muscular appearance. 

Chul-Moo stood up and you mirrored his actions, bowing at the man as he arrived at the table and extended his hand to shake the older mans. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Won-Shik.” Chul-Moo spoke calmly. 

“You too.” his eyes softened as a smile appeared and he didn’t seem all that threatening anymore. 

Taking a seat again the men moved to speak about their business, listening intensely, though you didn’t need to, you were interested in what they spoke about. 

Money. Women. Missions. Death. Betrayal. Losing people in your organisation and making sure others lost people of theirs. Moving up within your own company and making allies. 

The evening came to an end and you had probably learned more than you wanted to, more than you needed to, knowing that you had been protected from knowing a lot of what had been spoken about tonight. 

“Excuse me for a few minutes, then we will end the night” Chul-Moo spoke, before standing up and leaving the table, your eyes following his figure intensely, worried about being left alone with Won-Shik. 

“I know who you are.” Won-Shik spoke lowly, placing his hand on yours, your head snapping in his direction and your eyes widening. 

“I knew your parents. I knew your entire family, Y/N. I know what happened to them.” he continued, “I know who is responsible.” 

Your body and blood ran cold, no one knew, no one lived to tell the tale, except you. 

“Your brother is alive - so is your sister.” he smiled.

Your heart was running a marathon, pumping hard against your rib cage, threatening to jump out of it, your breathing shallow and quick. 

“I know where they are too.” he confirmed, taking a sip of his drink, raising an eyebrow at you, “Do you want to know?” 

You opened your mouth to try and speak, but you didn’t know what to say, he had taken you by complete and utter surprise, he hadn’t even given any indication of knowing who you were. 

He took a pen out of his pocket and scribbled an address down on the napkin next to him, pushing it towards you. 

“Meet me here.” he nodded, “You don’t have to say anything. I know you can’t.” his eyes trailed down your cleavage to where your microphone was placed. 

He leaned closer to you, “I know there’s a man at every door and you can’t leave without being stopped, but there’s one exit they haven’t covered.” 

Following his eyes they turned to the door leading to the kitchen. There was an exit in there they didn’t know about, it wasn’t even on the print Jin had shown you. 

“I better go, before the lackey’s get wind of this. I suggest you do the same.” he spoke firmly as he stood from the chair and quickly walked towards the entrance of the restaurant. 

You looked down at the napkin with the address in front of you, puzzled, arguing with yourself, your heart screaming at you. Finding your brother, your sister, finding out who had massacred everyone in your bloodline and left you for dead, something the members hadn’t been able to offer you. 

Looking ahead you saw the lackey at the exit opposite you walking quickly towards you, forcing you to make a quick decision. 

You grabbed the napkin and ran towards the kitchen, footsteps following closely behind you, you barged through the door, your head turning in every direction trying to find the door to your answers. 

A chef came up to you and you instantly looked at him with terror in your eyes, “Where is the exit?!”

He pointed towards the back, your legs carrying you towards it as the door behind you flung open and a large man tried grabbing your arm - the chefs circled the man trying to keep him from you, assuming you were scared of him and trying to get away from him. 

You finally found the door, pulling the microphone out from under your dress you threw it on the ground, your heart feeling like it was going to give out, your veins tingling with adrenaline as you started running towards the road and somewhere you could think in peace.

Finding the your old spot under a wooden tree on a hill you sat down, panting and shaking, your mind racing, you tried to calm yourself, looking at the napkin in your hands, the tears welling in your eyes, your sister, your brother, your family’s faces running through your mind. 

You put your hands to your head, their faces turning from warm and lively to pale, empty eyes, lifeless - just how you had found them, bloodied, just how you saw them in your nightmares, unanswered questions paining you for years and in your hand you had your answer, all you needed to know, could possibly want to know, so within reach. 

You screamed - your frustration reaching an absolute peak. 

It wasn’t possible, you couldn’t do it. This organisation had been your family for so long, longer than your own had been in your life. They had taken care of you for so long, given you everything you could ever want, loved you in every way, for everything you were and everything you weren’t. 

Your phone chimed in your purse and you knew exactly who it was going to be, pulling it out you saw Jimin’s name. You knew they could trace your location and find you. Fuck. You left it to ring - you were in trouble and you knew it. 

Sighing, you had to go back. They were your life, they could help you by finding Won-Shik and squeezing him for answers - you could have both the organisation and your biological siblings. 

Entering the large building you went straight for the elevator, not even acknowledging the guard standing by the door. 

You took your shoes off while waiting to reach the top floor, hoping for the best, but knowing you were probably in for the worst. 

The doors opened for you and you took a deep breath, walking down the corridor that seemed so much longer than usual, treading carefully as you heard nothing coming from their office, no words, no movement, nothing. 

You stood silently in the door as your eyes panned the faces of the men you had been with for longer than you could now remember, their brows furrowed and their heads hanging low. 

Yoongi saw you in the corner of his eye, instantly rising from the chair and walking quickly towards you, “Where the fuck have you been?! Did you go see him?!” he growled as you dropped your shoes and he encased you between his arms against the wall, your gaze dropping to the floor to avoid his piercing anger. 

You shook your head, feeling like it was the only thing you actually could do, his fury rendering you terrified. 

“Hyung, you’re scaring her..” Jimin spoke softly. 

“I’d fucking hope so!” he spoke louder, making you flinch and close your eyes, pressing your body against the wall behind you.

Feeling the napkin being ripped from your hand, your head turned to Jin who was studying the address, “Is this where he asked you to meet him?” 

You nodded, your eyes slightly teary. 

Jin walked towards his desk, opening his laptop and typing on the keyboard - Yoongi following after him, standing next to him, staring intensely at the screen. 

Jimin came to your side, his hand resting on your shaking arm. Looking up at him you couldn’t help but whimper, “I know I did wrong. I’m sorry.” 

He shushed you, normally he would tell you that you were going to be okay, but he didn’t and that worried you. 

Hoseok, Jungkook, Taehyung and Namjoon’s stares were piercing you, your head hanging in shame as you awaited the confirmation from Jin and Yoongi, stating you hadn’t actually been at the address. 

Jin finally nodded, “She wasn’t there.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, but it didn’t last. 

“That doesn’t mean you’re in the clear though. You still ran from us.” Hoseok growled. 

“I know, I’m so-” Hoseok’s hand gesture cut you off as he stood up, grabbed your arm and pushed you over to Jin’s desk, your hips meeting the hard wood, a sting shooting through your body. 

Jin and Yoongi moved from the desk to the sofa behind you, your eyes following them in a plea that they ignored. 

Hoseok pushed his body into yours, your hands finding their place on the desk to steady yourself - his hand softly moved your hair from your shoulder before trailing to the zipper of your dress slowly pulling it down, his mouth moving next to your ear, “You need us, Y/N-ah. We own you.”

Your breathing got heavier, as he pulled your dress down and off you. 

“Isn’t that right?” he asked, making you nod in confirmation. 

He unclasped your bra and let it fall down your arms, pulling it off and throwing it to the side - hooking his fingers inside the edges of your lace underwear and bringing it down your legs, his breath hitting your skin on the way down, sending shivers through your body, he let you move your legs and kick it off along with your dress. 

“Hoseok-oppa..” you breathed. 

“You don’t get to speak.” he warned, his hand on your hip holding on with bruising strength. 

Taehyung appeared in the corner of your eye as he almost danced towards the chair by the desk with a huge smile, sitting down, resting his face in his hands. 

Hoseok’s hand came up to the back of your neck before you felt him pushing you forward and your upper body hit the desk, a whimper leaving you - his hand trailed down your naked back, the warmth of it sprouting goosebumps across your skin.

Taehyung’s hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, his other hand coming to cup your cheek. You leaned slightly into his palm, your eyes questioning his as his boxy smile appeared. 

“We need you to count, babygirl.” Hoseok rubbed the skin of your ass gently, “Can you do that for us?” 

You swallowed thickly, “Yes.” 

Feeling his warmth leave you, you expected the first hit - but he left you waiting, not wanting you to expect it and prepare yourself for it. Where’s the fun in that?

Taehyung’s gaze never left yours, his eyes flickering between yours, but never giving you an indication of when the hit was going to happen, infatuated with him you felt yourself relax a little. 

That’s when the first hit came down, a brutal sting on your left ass cheek, making you whimper a little and your body jerk into the desk. 

“One.” you breathed, making Taehyung smile. 

Hoseok moved away from you and was replaced by someone else, but you couldn’t see who.

“I want to say you’re going to be okay, kitten.” Jimin paused, “But you’re not.” his hand equally harshly meeting your right ass cheek, the stinging sending spikes of electricity through your body. 

“Two.” you whimpered, your body jerking away from the source again. 

Taehyung’s thumb gently caressed your cheek, keeping you fixated on him. 

Jin came up behind you next, his large hand increasing the area of pain on your left ass cheek. 

“Three.” you choked, the pain getting to you, feeling the redness appear on your ass. 

“You’re doing so well baby.” Taehyung whispered. 

Namjoon gently rubbed the skin of your right ass cheek, his warmth providing a little relief before ripping it from you again in an excruciating slap. 

“Four.” you exhaled sharply, your hand squeezing Taehyung’s. 

Yoongi’s hand met your left ass cheek, feeling like he put the full force of his anger into it, you closed your eyes and felt the sting of tears appear, your legs feeling like they were going to give in below you. 

“Five.” you strained. 

“Look at me, baby.” Taehyung whispered, his head clocked slightly to the side - you opened your eyes and met his, “You’re doing amazing, you’re so good for us.” 

Jungkook was the last one, coming up behind you he trailed a few kisses on your bare back before his hand gently stroked your right ass cheek - as soon as you felt the warmth of his hand leave it you knew it was coming, the sting unbearable as you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hiding your face from Taehyung, facing down into the desk. 

“Six.” you released your breath in a small cry. 

Taehyung’s thumb gently rubbed against your cheek, “He’s going to do mine as well.” 

You looked up at him, pleading, shaking your head. 

“It’s the last one, beautiful, you’re going to be okay. I know you can take it.” he smiled, nodding at Jungkook to go ahead.

His hand met your left ass cheek in an agonising slap, your legs squeezing together and the sting leaving you a mess. 

“Seven.” you sobbed into Taehyung’s hand. 

“That’s it, baby. It’s done.” he cooed, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. 

You stood up, your body shaking, your back meeting the firm chest of Jungkook as he held on to your hips, helping you stay steady. 

Taehyung’s eyes dropped to your core, his eyes darkening slightly and a smile appearing as he leaned back in the chair, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before, noona.” 

“Maybe we chose the wrong kind of punishment.” Namjoon stated smugly from the other side of the room. 

“Should we take turns fucking her until she can’t run away from us again?” Jungkook growled into your ear, making your breath hitch and your core clench at his suggestion before he grabbed your arm, turned you around and pushed you towards the carpet in the middle of the room, making you tumble and fall onto your back. 

He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, staring at you with a smirk, your chest rising and failing quickly - Jungkook sat down on his knees in front of you between your legs, raising his eyebrow at you, his cocky behaviour showing. 

Taehyung moved to sit on one of the chairs next to the sofa, making you realise all 6 of them were looking at you with smirks, enjoying the view and prospect of fucking you. 

You felt Jungkook’s lips attach to your neck, his arms on either side of you supporting his weight, “Focus on me, babygirl.” he whispered as his hardened member pushed against your core and earned a slight moan from you, the pressure making your clit throb. 

Placing small kisses and sucking gently on the skin of your neck he interrupted your sighs with a bite, smiling against your skin as you groaned - moving away he attached his lips to yours, the roughness of his kiss making you drag your nails down his shoulders, a small groan leaving him as a result. 

He dragged his lips down your neck, down to your hardened buds, his breath hitting your skin sending shivers down your back - circling one of your buds with his tongue your chest arched away from him, a whimper leaving you, your body already on fire from the previous pain inflicted. 

Continuing down your stomach and reaching your core, he sat back on his heels, grabbing your hips and pulling you up so your ass rested on his chest and he was free to eat you out as he wanted - looking down at you he let his tongue find your clit in a quick flick, resulting in a moan from you. 

He smiled, loving the sounds you made for him so easily before attaching his lips to your clit again, flicking your bundle of nerves and sucking on it harshly. Your lip was situated between your teeth as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in the pleasure you were given, your hand grabbing the carpet, the other holding on to his thigh. 

“Fuck.. Jungkook-ah..” you breathed, your core heating up and you so desperately wanted to cum. 

His calculated movements on your clit meant you knew you weren’t going to last long, you never did when he had his way with you - your thighs tensing next to his head and your toes curling, moans falling from your lips as you were so ready to let go. 

You closed your eyes and your body shook lightly, feeling him find the exact spot that would have you coming undone. 

“Right there.. Mmhm..” you breathed, feeling the pressure in your core at its very peak, your stomach tensing and about to release, when he moved away from your core and looked down at you with a smirk, your eyes opening and pleading with him. 

“You don’t get to cum.” he laughed. 

He let go of you and you sat up, “Jungkook-ah, that’s-” his fingers wrapped around your throat and his eyes threatened you, “You’re not in control here.” - he pushed to on to your back before sitting back on his heels again, undoing the belt in his slacks and unzipping them, his large member slipping free. 

“Turn around.” he growled and you did as you were told, standing on all fours for him - his hands finding their home on your hips, you felt him push slowly into you, your eyes closing as you whimpered at the burn he offered but it didn’t stop him - god, he stretched you so good, the pain turning you on even more. 

“Despite years of fucking you, you’re still so tight.” he spoke in approval. 

You smirked, biting your lip and loving the praise as you felt him pull out and thrust back into you harshly, moans leaving you. 

Opening your eyes your gaze met Jimin’s in the chair across from you, his legs spread and his hard member apparent in his slacks, his finger dragging slowly back and forth on his lower lip as his eyes focused on you. 

A series of particularly hard thrusts had your arms buckling under you, leaning forward and resting yourself on the carpet below, moans and mewls escaped your lips as you felt your orgasm returning to your core at an alarming speed. 

You felt Jungkook’s hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you back to stand on your knees against him, his arm wrapping around your waist to support you, “You’re close again, aren’t you?” he panted in your ear. 

“Mmhm..” you hummed, hoping he would let you cum this time, your hands holding on tightly to his arm. 

“So hungry for cock.” he scoffed, “Does the slut get to cum?” 

“Please.” you begged, “Please let me cum.” 

“Suit yourself, it’s your cunt that’s going to be aching by the end of the night.” he laughed as his thrusts became harder and more precise hitting just the right spot - you felt the knot tighten in your core, your stomach tensing and your breathing halting for seconds before being released in a series of pleasure waves. 

“Fuck.. I love feeling you cum on my cock.” he whispered in your ear, “So fucking good.” his thrusts slowing and becoming sloppier as you continued to clench around him, his own orgasm imminent. 

He let go of you and let you fall forward as he used your body to reach his own high, your body shaking and mewls falling from your lips, the stimulation becoming too much for you - his grip on your hips became almost bruising as he stopped his movements and groaned, feeling him cum inside you. 

He pulled out of you making you wince as he tucked his member away and sat against the wall, panting, fingers running through his hair, brushing it back and out of his face, with wide a smirk. 

Shaking and trying to catch your breath you sat up, feeling Jungkook’s cum leak out of you - Jimin caught your eyes as he motioned for you to come over to him - remaining on all fours you crawled over to him and sat between his spread legs. 

He leaned forward, cupping your cheek and smiling at you sweetly as his lips met yours, you crawled a little further forward, trying to feel more of him, his lips curving up in a smirk, “Still hungry for more, hmm?” his voice cocky. 

You nodded as he pulled away from you, leaning back in the chair - his eyes trailed down to his own member, twitching a few times in his slacks, you knew what he wanted, so you rested your arms on his thighs, letting your finger drag up and down his hardened member, undoing his belt and unzipping his slacks, your mouth watering at the sight of him. 

Licking your lips you leaned forward and took his member in your mouth, flattening your tongue against the bottom of his shaft, hitting the string on the back of his member’s head just right. 

He hissed above you, leaning his head back, enjoying the view and pleasure, his hand finding its place in your hair - you slowly bobbed your head, your tongue circling the tip of his head every time you pulled away. 

“Stop teasing me, kitten or I’ll fuck that pretty mouth instead.” he warned above you - you increased your pace as he demanded, using your hands to cover whatever of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

He groaned, “That’s it.. Fuck..” 

His thighs tensed under your arms, his eyes closing and mouth falling ajar, so caught in the pleasure - he pulled your hair slightly, forcing you off him, “Ride my cock, baby.” he whispered, “I wanna feel you.”

You stood up and swung a leg over his, before straddling him properly, lifting yourself up as he positioned himself below you and you sank down on him slowly - placing your hands on his chest for balance your breath shook as he filled you to the brim, just like Jungkook had a little before.  

“Shit.. You always feel so amazing..” Jimin cooed below you, his hands holding on to your hips as you started slowly moving up and down on him - his hand found its way up your stomach and to your breast, pinching the hardened bud and making you whimper in response. 

Moving his hand from the hardened bud it instead favoured the bundle of nerves between your legs, harshly circling it - watching your reaction with intense eyes, loving the furrowed brows on your features. 

“Fuck, you feel too good.” he growled before both his hands grabbed your hips and he started thrusting into you, hard - knowing he wouldn’t last long, but watching you get fucked and eaten out by Jungkook had him riled up already. 

You couldn’t stop the moans falling from your lips, growing louder and louder you put your hand over your mouth, trying to contain yourself but Jimin wouldn’t have it, moving your hand and placing it back on his chest, “Don’t hold back - let me hear how good my little slut feels because of my cock.” 

All you could do was nod and whimper, his thrusts leaving your head blank and your core dripping - his hard movements hitting all the right spots inside you, your stomach tightened and you knew you were close to a second orgasm.

“Jimin-ah.. I’m so close.” you breathed. 

“Good.” he panted, “Hold it, I’m not planning on letting you cum.” 

“Please, please, please!” you begged him between thrusts.

“I said no.” he warned, his movements becoming less calculated and his hips stuttering as you felt him cumming inside you, a moaning mess below you, your own orgasm never reaching its peak - you squeezed your legs around his hips, your fist hitting his chest making him simply laugh at you. 

He sat up and pulled you close, kissing your neck, “I’m sorry, baby.” 

You groaned at him, “Being sweet won’t get you anywhere.” you moved off of him and stood up, feeling the mess between your legs sliding slowly down your thigh. 

“Such a mess you are.” Namjoon laughed, leaning against Jin’s desk, “Come here.” 

You immediately followed his orders, walking towards him on extremely wobbly legs, realising Yoongi was sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk - both their gazes making you feel so small.

“Bend over the desk.” Yoongi demanded - stepping forward a little you did as he said, your upper body lying flat against the desk, the cold surface forcing a shaky breath from you - Namjoon positioned himself behind you, hearing him unzip his slacks as well as Yoongi standing up and doing the same in front of you, a loud ‘Oh fuck’ rung through your head.

You felt Namjoon push into you, a groan leaving him and a small sigh leaving you, your wetness and the cum already inside you making it easier for him push in - his hands grabbing your arms and crossing them behind your back, holding you down. 

Opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for Yoongi he smiled and let his member slide into your mouth, “So eager for my cock. Such a good little whore.” he praised, the back of his fingers gently trailing over your cheek before tangling in your hair as he started to fuck your mouth.

The repeated moans Namjoon caused you only served Yoongi well, the vibrations of them making him feel better - his pace increasing, going a little deeper, knowing how much of him you could take.

Pressure in your core started building quickly again, after Jimin didn’t let you release, you knew you could cum at any second with Namjoon’s brutal thrusts - your arms struggling slightly against his hold, your hips repeatedly hitting the edge of the desk. 

“Such a good little play thing, letting all of us use you like this.” Namjoon spoke behind you, “So hungry for our cocks all the time, aren’t you?” 

You could only hum in confirmation, Yoongi’s member filling your up your mouth, leaving no room to speak or move - leaning his head back in pleasure you felt him push into your mouth further and further, saliva falling down around his member and down your chin. 

Squeezing your legs together, you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer, but you had no way of asking if you were allowed to cum - moans increasing as Namjoon’s thrusts became harder and faster. 

“Go on, babygirl, I know you’re close.” he panted behind you, feeling your core clenching around him - the pressure came to a peak and the waves of pleasure took over you, your toes curling and body arching slightly away from the desk, strained moans getting caught in your throat. 

“Fuck..” Yoongi and Namjoon breathed in unison, Yoongi going a little too deep and making you gag as his hips started stuttering and his cum hit the back of your throat, you tried desperately to swallow it all - Namjoon fighting to stay stood, his legs shaking with the force of his release inside you. 

Namjoon pulled out of you but continued to hold on to you, knowing your body was growing weak - Yoongi pulled out of your mouth making you gasp for air, coughing and choking on it, tears filling your eyes, his hand coming to cup your cheek, “Shh, easy baby, breathe.” 

Gaining control of yourself, both the men moved to sit down on the sofa, satisfied with their release - Taehyung standing up and walking over to you, his hands moving under your thighs as he lifted you up to sit on the desk, situating himself between your legs. 

He gently wiped your bottom lip with his thumb, his gaze meeting yours, his other hand resting on your waist, feeling your body shake, “You okay?” he whispered. 

You nodded with a small smile. 

“Good. That’s my girl.” he cooed, his hand finding your neck, holding on to you as he pushed his lips harshly against yours - his other hand finding the hardened bud on your chest and circling it with his finger, your body arching into his touch, electricity shooting towards you core. 

Your hands found their way to undo his belt and slacks, his lips never leaving yours as his member fell free and pushed against you - he pulled his hips back a little, both his hands finding each of your thighs, lifting them up before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing into you. 

Breaking the kiss you leaned slightly back, your arms behind you supporting you as he started thrusting into you, biting your lip and maintaining eye contact with him - he moved both your legs to rest on his shoulders as his hands instead found your hips to bring you back to him every time he pushed into you. 

“Fuck.. Tae-ah..” you breathed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.  

“Mmhm? Does my cock fill you up nicely?” he questioned with a hard thrust, making you moan loudly, “I’ll take that as a yes.” he laughed. 

You felt his lips drag slowly across your shin, planting a few kisses, the softness of it a big contrast to how hard and fast his thrusts were - you opened your eyes moving your head to look at him, his own eyes closed and so lost in the feeling of you. 

He moved your legs off his shoulders, instead placing them around his hips as he got close to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, his hands held on to your hips and his thrusts became slightly slower and more of a grinding motion. 

“I’m gonna cum, shit..” he whispered against your lips, holding still for a few seconds before he continued his hard thrusts and his cum spilling inside you.

He leaned his forehead against yours - pulling out and putting himself away - you breathed heavily, your body aching and screaming for rest as he returned to the sofa - watching as Hoseok got up and came closer.

Your heart was pounding against your chest and droplets of sweat were falling down the side of your face, but you maintained a composed appearance, you were able to take this punishment, meeting Hoseok’s threatening gaze. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t begged us to stop yet.” he smiled, his fingers grazing your cheek.

“I can take it.” your breath shook. 

“Are you sure?” he growled as he pulled you closer, one leg placed on his hip and one on his shoulder, your back hitting the surface of the desk, his fingers coming up and holding tightly on to your throat. 

“Yes.” you maintained. 

“I’m not buying it, beautiful.” He smiled, undoing his tie and putting it over your eyes, tying a knot on the back of your head - you laid back down against the table, not knowing what to expect without your sight. 

You felt his warm hand trail down your chest, over your breast, past your hardened bud and down your stomach, ultimately reaching your core - his fingers sliding easily between your lips and finding your entrance, slipping 3 of them into you, making you sigh at the intrusion. 

Feeling his fingers go in and out of you a few times, he removed them from you, his fingers coming up to your mouth, “Open your mouth for me.” he requested, and you did as he wanted.

You felt his fingers dip into your mouth and you eagerly sucked them clean, tasting the cum several different men had left in you tonight, “Good girl.” Hoseok praised. 

Feeling him shuffle from you, you heard the familiar unzip and the tip of his member gliding up and down your slit, prodding occasionally at your entrance before he finally let himself delve into you, “Always so warm and wet, fuck.” he breathed.

Hoseok started slowly, grinding into you and enjoying the sight of you, your mouth falling ajar at his movements, your breasts bouncing and the sweet moans he extracted from you - but it didn’t take long for him to increase the power he put behind his thrusts. 

Whimpers falling as your body was aching more and more, you held on to the edge of the desk, feeling like you were going to give into the exhaustion, one of Hoseok’s hands coming up to knead the soft skin of your breast. 

You arched your back away from the desk, his hips continuously snapping into you harshly sending pain and pleasure through your body, your mouth open and strained moans struggling to leave you. 

His thrusts became messy and less powerful, his hand leaving your breast and trailing down to your hip to hold on to you tightly again, pushing your leg towards your body and gaining more access to you, you groaned as he finally slowed down to a halt, filling you up again, his breathing shallow and ragged. 

He pulled out of you, let go of your legs and they fell down one crossed over the other as you turned on to your side, breathing heavily and broken. 

You felt a hand grab your arm, making you sit up and lean against the persons chest, your body limp and tired, their scent filled your nostrils - “Jin-oppa..” you whispered, you could feel him undoing the knot on the back of your head, slowly removing the tie from your eyes and your sight returning. 

He put his fingers under your chin and slowly lifted your head to look up at him, his gentle smile offering you some comfort, “Hey baby.” he whispered, “It’s just me left.” he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, the softness a big change to the roughness you had experienced throughout the night, though you assumed it was probably short lived. 

Putting his arm around your waist, holding on and pulling you off the desk, his hand found yours to steady you as your legs gave way under you. He guided you over to the carpet where Jungkook was still sitting against the wall - motioning for you to lie down, you happily obliged, desperately wanting to. 

Positioning himself between your legs, he leaned down and hovered above you, pressing his lips to yours again. One of his hand slowly dragged down your side and lifted your thigh up to rest on his hip, your other leg doing the same, shakily trying to keep your legs there - his hand going between your bodies and pulling his member out, slowly pushing it into you, he broke the kiss and hissed at your warmth.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you held on to his shoulders, his pace slow and almost loving, arching your chest into him, loving the way he felt inside you - “That’s it, kitten. Enjoy it.” he whispered into the skin of your neck, sucking gently on it, “You love my cock, don’t you?” 

Licking your lips you simply whimpered in response, “Mmhm!”

His lips left your neck as he sat back on his heels, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you up to rest against him, “I can’t, Jin-oppa.. My body won’t move.” you whined. 

“It’s okay.” he smiled against your the skin of your collarbones, using his strength to move you instead, his arm still around your waist and the other on your hip, lifting you up and letting you sink back down on him, your feet on either side of him providing little to no help. 

You held onto his arms, your forehead resting against his shoulder, an aching pressure growing in your core again - his hand moved from your hip and his fingers instead found your clit, circling it repeatedly. 

“You can cum one last time, can’t you babygirl?” he panted, increasing the pace of his thrusts. 

Shaking your head against his shoulder, you could barely speak a coherent sentence, “I-I can’t, it hurts.” 

“I know you can.” he cooed, “One more.” his fingers rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves a little harder. 

He leaned forward and let go of you, letting you fall back on to your back on the carpet, his thrusts becoming harder and faster accompanied with his fingers on your clit - you bit your lip, your brows furrowing at the pleasure he was inflicting on you.

Your legs squeezed around him as you felt the aching pressure growing in your core, “Please, please.. I can’t.” you mewled, your vision blurring. 

“You can and you will.” he growled. 

Grabbing onto the carpet you could barely contain yourself as he threw you towards your orgasm, your back arching away from the softness below you and your eyes squeezing shut, the pain mixed with the pleasure of your orgasm making strained moans fall from your parted lips. 

“Fuck.. There you go. So good.” he praised as he felt you clenching around him, his fingers leaving your bundle of nerves and holding on to your hips instead as he desperately chased his own high, only made easier by your core throbbing around him - his hips slowed slightly, his thrusts uneven as he came inside you. 

Leaving you a panting mess, he stood up, pride swelling in his chest, not only for him but for you, successfully taking your punishment to the fullest. 

You turned on to your side, your body screaming for rest, your own fluids as well as theirs drying rapidly between your legs, but you couldn’t care any less about it at this point, closing your eyes and letting your body mend itself. 

Feeling a soft and fluffy blanket being wrapped around you, arms came under you and lifted you up, carrying you over to one of the chairs Jimin sat down with you cradled in his arms, sat between his legs both of your legs draped over one of his and your face snuggling against his neck he whispered praises repeatedly, “You were amazing, beautiful. You’re okay now. You can rest.”

You felt a bottle being put to your lips, “Here, drink something before you sleep, noona.” Jungkook spoke softly, tilting the bottle slightly and letting you drink as much as you needed, his knuckles gently caressing your cheek. 

Putting your hand on Jimin’s chest you held on tightly as you nearly passed out instantly from exhaustion, praises still being sung in your ear. 

Waiting until he was sure you were sleep, Jimin spoke softly to the other men, “We have to kill him. We have to kill Won-Shik.” his fingers drawing small circles on your arm and his stare blank, emotionless, “She can’t find out. She can never know.” 

“What are you talking about, hyung?” Jungkook questioned Jimin, leaning forward in his seat.

Yoongi sighed, “It was our fathers that wiped her bloodline.” 

Please do not repost. If you wish to repost, please contact me directly requesting permission, with details of where, and on what account(name). I will put the details of approved reposts below.

[birdscreeches]

The River | Aisha R.

Five days before Miles Santos dies, the sink in his bathroom breaks. 

It started with a trickle of water dripping from the pipes underneath before growing into a spurting torrent that soaks his knees. This is what he gets, he muses, for not switching to water replication plumbing. He goes through his things looking for anything to fix it, but his condo is a crowded mess of wires and screens. Miles manages to find a roll of duct tape tangled within an extension cord. 

With shaking hands, testaments to the sleepless nights of the past week, he wraps the leaking pipe with tape. Outside, his tablet continues playing the video he left it on. The voices drift into the room quietly, bouncing off the porcelain. Soft, pattering sounds of disaster. 

“—the eye of typhoon Tomas was located, based on all available data, at 2,635 kilometers east of Southern Luzon. This is still outside of the Philippine Area of Responsibility. It has maximum sustained winds of 130 kilometers per hour and a gustiness of up to 160 kilometers per hour. It is moving west at 30 kilometers per hour. This typhoon is expected to enter PAR by Saturday—”

Water slips past his fingers and soaks his arms. It splashes against his face, sharp and cold. Miles coils tape around the pipe over and over, choking the water back in the place until finally, the pipes yield.

“—when we say super typhoon, it has to sustain a wind speed greater than 220 kilometers per hour. Typhoon Tomas is not a super typhoon, but it still has a long way to go above water before it reaches landfall and thus has the potential to, ah, acquire more strength.”

“So it’s possible for typhoon Tomas to become a super typhoon.”

“There is a possibility—”

Miles’ hands are soaked. His shirt is damp. His bathroom floor is a glorified puddle and he’s kneeling in it, an attempt for absolution. It’s a flimsy attempt at best, he thinks. He will never be clean again.

He stands up from the mess he’s made, sits down at one of his monitors. Still cold and rapidly becoming colder, he types and creates a monster.

-

Is it done?

yes 

am i good now

No, you still have to install it.

We’ll also need a physical copy on a hard drive.

A team will come by next week to confiscate all your equipment.

It will all be compensated for, so you don’t have to worry.

okay

when will the payment come through

After we have the system and after you install it.

you’re sure

Yes.

I’ll text you again with details for the drop.

Stay updated.

-

Three days before Miles Santos dies, the traffic on slows to an unbearable crawl right on the bridge of Marcos Highway. Trapped from every angle, at mercy to the sheer power of unmoving vehicles, Miles has no choice but to see the river. He could keep his gaze straight, focus on every detail of the truck in front of him, but the river would snake its way into view. From his periphery into his mind, the river is there, demanding attention, until he can’t help but turn to look at it.

Already, the water is higher than usual. The surface ripples with turbulence as it rushes forth, crashing against the concrete bed that slopes down from the riverbanks. There was a time when those banks were nothing but the same earth and silt it had always been, but Miles couldn’t remember it. He was born only after they started constructing the improved channel. He grew up climbing over chain link fence with his friends, a flattened cardboard box in hand. On summer days, the river was docile. Dry. Just a trickle of water in a ditch too large. Miles and his friends would sit on the edge of the concrete slope, cardboard safely under him, and push off the edge, sliding down to the sound of laughter and a barangay tanod yelling at them to get the fuck outta here, stupid goddamn kids. 

The pillars shake Miles out from his memory. On the edge of the concrete slopes, tall, grey magnetic pillars stuck out every few meters. Unactivated, they stood silently. Watchtowers over a vicious beast.

There is a barrage of beeping from behind him. Miles scrambles to step on the gas and drive forward.

The truck in front of him stops. Miles brakes. Alone in his car, he feels he can’t breathe. The river is there. A chill wells up deep in his stomach, branching out to his body. A restless energy.

Miles drums his fingers on the wheel and slowly, as the cars inch forward, rain begins to fall. 

It’s hours before he gets to his mother’s house. The drive seemed like it wanted to drain the entire day away before he could live it. The house, fittingly enough, was gray and drab. The plants in the garden were alive, but slumped in lacking care. The paint of the gate was peeling, showing off the hard metal underneath. His mother’s house looks like as if all the days had drained away years ago.

His mother is much the same.

The mother he grew up with was sharp and nagging. Always scolding him for every mess and mistake, pushing him to be better, yet never showing him anything more than an absent nod for his achievements, too busy with cooking for the small carinderia she ran on her own. Now, too old to work, she sat in a house Miles got for her the moment he had enough money to, out and away from Tumana and into the quieter neighborhoods of Antipolo. Her edge had been weathered down by time into something weaker, but no less biting. Her memory was fuzzy at the edges, always calling Miles by the wrong name, or forgetting the date today, or forgetting that she had forgotten in the first place.

Miles came over every other week to have lunch with her, whether she liked it or not. Today’s lunch had passed in the same old questions followed by the same old silences. 

He helps his mother from the dining table back to the living room. She reclines in her rocking chair, and massages her temple. “Matt---”

“Miles,” he reminds her. 

“Miles, habang nandito ka pa, ayusin mo nga yung TV,” she says. “Ang choppy ng signal ‘tas ang hina pa nga ng volume, wala na akong marinig.”

“Ma, computer science yung alam ko, hindi engineering.” 

She scoffs. “Sana nag-doktor ka na lang.”

Miles doesn’t say anything. He simply stands to fix the TV if only to escape another endless circle of conversation.

He switches the TV on and watches the glitching static distort the face of a variety show host. The host’s grating laughter distorts through the speakers, an awful, terrible sound. As he unplugs and plugs different wires with barely trembling hands, the noise flits in and out. Miles manages to get the volume up higher again, like his mother wants it, and his own voice finds its own sound.

“Ma, medyo busy ako for the next few weeks, ha.” With a hard thwack to the back of the TV, the screen phases into clarity. He looks at it instead of his mother, continuing. “I won’t be able to come by for a while, but, uh, I got a really big bonus at work, and I’ll forward the money to you, okay?”

“Ha?” His mother says, squinting past him to look towards the TV. “Anong sabi mo?” 

“Wala,” Miles shakes his head. “Wala, ma.”

-

11pm

MRMC Station 3, Tumana.

Don’t be late.

-

On the day Miles Santos dies, he goes back to where he used to live. He parks nearby, and walks through the rest. It was a part of the slums that had been demolished to make way for the large, hulking powerline that fed into the electric pillars of the river. Where once there was a cluster fragile houses Miles would once run and duck through, there was now just flat rubble and the metal reinforced wires trailing through, out and away. 

There are a few kids kicking a ball around, scuffing dirt and laughing. One of them kicks the ball too far, rolling towards Miles’ feet, and Miles forces a smile as he bends down to toss it back to them. He tries to forget he ever saw them, but when you see one person, the rest keep coming in. A fruit vendor passes, pushing his rickety cart filled with cool pineapple. Women with streaks in their hair snickering and gossiping. A stray dog following at the heels of a young girl.

Miles used to live here, and the ache of seeing the place again after working so hard to leave it thrums through every inch of his body.

All he wanted was better.

And look where that got him.

He arrives at the drop location hours early. In his car with his silence, he sits and watches the rain engulf him.

To his left, he can see the crowded Tumana slums barely illuminated by the dusk. It was home once, when he was smaller. Houses here were small and grimy and flimsy ribcages people would live in. The streets and pathways would get narrower and narrower the deeper you went ,the ground a perpetual a slog of sticky earth and discarded garbage. The canals that ran through the barangay were as sleek and high tech as the main river, with smaller but no less advanced magnetic pillars, but all the innovation had stopped there. The ribcage houses were finally safe from the river, but weren’t safe from everything else. 

To his right, the river slithers into his periphery, demanding attention. Next to one of the pillars sticking out of the concrete banks, there is a small building, STATION 3 emblazoned on the side in block letters, punctuated by frantic sprays of vandalism. The station was just one of many dotted along the length of the river. Manual control systems for the improved channels. Nobody’s used them in years.

Dusk bleeds into night. One by one, windows of the slums light up. Old school fluorescent lights mixing with the newer EMLED lights. 

Miles hears it before he sees it. The undeniable thrum of energy. Miles swears he feels the earth shift when. It does, in a sense. The magnetic pillars were a revolutionary piece of technology, but it took energy to power. More energy than can be taken without a price. 

The grey pillars light up, a soft, illuminated blue streaking across the center of each one. The top of the pillar beams out an arch of light connecting to another pillar on the opposite bank. Like dominoes, all the pillars buzz to life, creating an endless, unbreachable tunnel of energy. Rain that falls onto the magnetic field slides off, slipping into canals at the side that filter back into the river. Every canal and ditch is encased in a magnetic tunnel, pulsing through the roads, veins and arteries of rainwater filtering into the river. All the rain coming from the mountains, from the city gutters, from the sky mercilessly pounding rain into the earth. 

The Tumana slums tremble into darkness, all the power sucked into the cages keeping the water captive. 

Miles doesn’t do anything but breathe. The restless energy is gone, replaced instead by a deep, stinging chill that constantly scraping at the walls of who he is. He sits there, unmoving, and lets the rain and the night pass him by. 

He watches the magnetic field. Hours pass. The water rises. Rises. Rises past the riverbank, the magnetic field the only thing holding the water back from overflowing and drowning the slums just meters away.

Up ahead on the road, a nondescript red car parks in front of him, the headlights still on, shining directly into Miles’ eyes. The lights blink at him. Get in. He grabs an umbrella from the backseat and exits the safety of his car, brisk walks through the torrential downpour, hurriedly opens the door of the other car, and clambers into the passenger seat.

Four is sitting behind the wheel, phone in hand, idly swiping. He looks just about as pristine as Miles knew his own self was the opposite. Four looks up, eyes scanning over Miles’ soaked frame, bored and amused at the same time

“You really had to bring all the water with you, no?” Four asks, looking at Miles with that unimpressed gaze he always has.

“There’s a super typhoon,” Miles grits his teeth. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

“Touchy. I’m just joking,” he rolls his eyes then holds a hand out. “Physical copy?”

Miles digs a small plastic ziplock bag from his pocket. Inside, a small USB stick. He hands it over to Four who doesn’t even spare it a glance, stowing it in a side compartment without looking up from his phone. 

“No other copies exist?” 

“None.”

“Alright then, we’re nearly done,” Four says, tapping on his phone. “I’ve queued the payment transfer to go through once news sites start blasting the breaking news headlines. You get back into your car and follow me out and—”

“I’m not going.”

Four’s typing stops. He looks up and meets Miles’ gaze. Miles can’t find any shock in Four’s eyes. If anything, the only thing that’s there is a twinkle of intrigue. 

“You’re not?”

“I’m—” Miles tries to find his words, all feeling awkward and clunky. “I’m staying here. I’ll deploy the program here.”

There’s a beat of silence. The rain outside is coming down so strong, the noise blurs into a static. Everything and nothing. A held breath.

“Hm,” Four looks back to his phone. “That explains the payment thing. I wondered why the account wasn’t yours. Whose is it?”

“None of your business.”

Four actually laughs, and Miles thinks it looks like a snarl. “I guess you’re right. Do me a favor and wait til I’m out of the danger zone before you run the program, will you? The payment expires if any of my programs detect a sign of an untimely death.” Four swipes his finger across his phone and Miles hears his own phone ping. “This car’s details,” Four explains. “Watch over me while I drive.”

“Can I go now?” Miles says. He wants to get out of this car. He wants to never see Four again. He wants to never have met him in the first place.

“Sure,” Four smiles. A sneer trying to look kind. “This is good work you’re doing here. Remember that. Pleasure doing business with you, Santos.”

Miles gets out of the door and slams the door shut. Under his umbrella, he watches Four back the car up, turn, and drive away. 

He pulls out his phone and taps on Four’s car details. Miles watches his GPS show Four’s car drive further and further away. His trip is made short and smooth by clear roads. Too late and too rainy for anybody to drive out. People are in their homes, sleeping soundly. 

When Four passes the threshold into Quezon City, Miles closes his eyes. When he opens them, he can feel every drop of water on his skin like a knife pressing into him. In his hand, his phone feels like a grenade.

He opens his program. The pin is pulled.

Miles had created a lockpick. A universal lockpick. A program that could adapt to any system and open any doors. Untraceable, quick, and efficient. Creating the program was a long and delicate science of knowing where to make it prod and where to make it push. A balance between toeing the line and destroying it. He understands more than anybody the meaning of a breaking point and what happens when that point is pressed. 

It’s child’s play now. He runs his program remotely from his phone into the servers of the Station 3. From there, he watches it frolick along tens of security measures and failsafes. He watches it weave past all of them. He watches it mangle the system to pieces.

Miles can’t watch it finish, his shaking hands dropping his phone into the muddy ground. Even if the water shorted his phone out, it was too late. His body wasn’t cold anymore. His body was an absence of everything. He’d been hollowed out and then deleted. It was over.

Miles doesn’t look up from his phone. He doesn’t have to. Through the reflection on his screen, he sees the lights of Marikina City come alive. The streetlamps, the homes, the stores. Power surges through all the lines, unbidden, rattling appliances awake, blowing out too-old lightbulbs, taking every home hostage. The night glimmers out of the darkness in chunks until the city is thrumming with electricity.

Behind him, the magnetic field flickers. Once, twice—

[scribblestatic]

The shrine they arrive at isn’t abandoned, but it doesn’t seem to have had as many visitors as others. There are a few people idling around, talking to each other, but none of them look like they’ve graduated college, and it seems it’s just meant for a hangout for the time being. Upon walking up the last stair leading to the flat, brick and stone ground around the shrine, Souma immediately begins horsing around, and Yuji joins in, teasing Kamiko into chasing them. Junpei finds a good place to sit on the stairs of the shrine, Kawaru settling beside him with her hands tucking her skirt to her legs. Izuku instead stands around and looks at the trees. 

The sky has darkened a bit, like it could rain. But it’s still only about 4pm, and the forecast says it’s supposed to be a bit cloudy. Still, it’s rather overcast...Izuku wonders if maybe he should’ve brought an umbrella.

He takes a few pictures of the branches as they reach out and conceal the sky with their little twigs and leaves. 

As he does, he kind of loses track of the people and his cousins, zoning out into his own universe.

The branches look like they’re grabbing for something. Maybe sunlight, maybe the sky. Still, like every year, the leaves turn their yellows, oranges, and reds, like someone’s bled watercolors onto them. Without the sun, it’s not nearly as vibrant as Izuku would’ve liked. Not that Tadao can see yet, but he wants these pictures so he can at least describe them. Because he will.

He’ll describe all his pictures so that the baby boy knows what he’ll one day be able to experience. Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Uhm…”

Izuku pauses as he’s about to take another picture and turns towards the small, meek voice. Just a step or two away, Kawaru stands, looking down at her feet. She fiddles with her fingers, a habit he knows very well.

“I’m sorry. About earlier...with uhm...avoiding you.”

A part of Izuku cringes a bit, but, well, it’s not like he’s not used to it.

“It’s okay. It happens all the time,” Izuku shrugs.

“But! I mean…” Her fiddling turns to twisting and squirming, like she’s uncomfortable but wants to say something so very badly that he can’t help but patiently wait for her to get her words together. “...I just...I mean...when I looked back at you and still...uhm…see, I know a quirkless kid at school. Uhm, we’re friends! I think?”

It’s only now that she gazes up at him, peering nervously, almost expecting.

“Oh...uh...good. That’s good.”

Apparently that was what she was waiting for, because her eyes brighten.

“Right? And, well. I thought...the way I avoided you was wrong. Everyone...everyone deserves a friend. Don’t you think?”

Izuku’s head tilts, then he smiles a little, turning back to his phone. On his screen, there’s the picture he’s recently taken of the bleak yet colorful leaves on the scraggled yet blessed trees. 

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

“You have friends, too, right?”

“Hmm…” Izuku gets back to the camera feature and sees a lantern hanging on a string. He takes a picture of it. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh, that’s good! I have two friends. One is Tamaki-chan. She’s really, really smart!”

“Yeah?” There’s a crow pecking at the ground before letting out a caw. Izuku snaps a picture. “What does she look like?”

“Weeeell...she has short black hair, and these really sharp eyes. She also has really round, fuzzy eyebrows. Her quirk lets her turn into a fox!”

Izuku raises his eyebrows at that and turns to look at Kawaru, a sort of familiar, wobbly smile on her face.

“Really? That’s really cool...does she live at a shrine?”

Kawaru gasps, blinking with surprise. “Yeah! How did you know?”

Izuku smiles in return, equally as wobbly as his younger cousin’s. “Well, a lot of people with animal quirks related to some Buddhist and Shinto religion practices became official families that take care of the shrines related to the animal they can turn into. So shrines that worship foxes tend to have a family that can turn into foxes that takes care of the shrine. The same with others, too, like cat gods and such.”

“Whoaaaa… Do you think there are shrines for dog gods?”

“Uhm…”

Foxes were one thing. Cats were another. Dogs were...well. Not well treated, to say in the least. Not as deities, anyway. And Izuku couldn’t really see himself telling a nearly 10-year-old that the main thing that summoned inugami were bloody rituals that involved beheading a starving dog and burying its head under a crossroad so its spirit would become furious and develop into a curse.

He’d found out through some accidental happenstances while researching heroes, leading to a whole afternoon of morose crying and two weeks of bowing respectfully to every dog he came across. He wasn’t about to bestow the same fate to the young girl.

“It depends. I guess.”

Kawaru hums. “Oh…”

When the silence lasts a little too long, Izuku smiles awkwardly and turns back around, taking more pictures. 

There seemed to be a murder of crows gathering. He’d only seen a few before, but more were starting to come in. A few had perched in the trees and were starting to caw to each other. He’d heard a bit about how they communicated and alerted each other to danger. It is interesting to see and hear them, their wings flapping, the branches shaking as they land. It’s something Tadao might like to hear about. He snaps another picture.

“Uhm, well,” Kawaru stutters behind him, “Do...uhm...do you have a friend?”

“Well...there’s Kacchan, but we don’t really talk very much nowadays. He’s...he’s busy. But I do have a...well...I wouldn’t really call him a friend. I don’t know...but. I guess? Maybe? Well.” Izuku smiles, flitting through the pictures on his phone. “He’s someone I really care about, anyway.”

He can feel a presence to his side, and when he looks, Kawaru’s standing closer to him than she has all day. “What’s he like?”

“He’s...really small. Super small.”

“How small?” Her gaze looks past him, into the branches at the crows.

“Like...smaller than you. So small you could hold him in your arms. Well, cause, he’s a baby.” Izuku grins. “His name’s Tadao.”

“Tadao?”

“Yeah.” Izuku finds some of the earlier pictures he took. Ones from the streets earlier in the morning, some from the funeral home and the cemetary, back when the day was brighter and the ground and sky looked much more vibrant than now. “I...I actually found him. In an alleyway. I took him to the hospital and the nurses take care of him now. But they let me visit to help him calm down and sleep. He...he seems pretty attached to me, so I guess that counts as a friend?”

“Uhh huh…” Kawaru says absentmindedly, a small frown on her face. But she’s not looking at him. 

It kind of sends a kick to Izuku’s self-esteem that he can’t keep the attention of his 10-year-old cousin, so his shoulders hunch in, his voice getting a little quieter as he searches the pictures for more things, enough things to make sure he’d have a lot to tell the little boy.

“Yeah. I’d like to think he’s a friend. He seems to think of me as one, too. I hope so. But...well, I like spending time with him. It’s...maybe weird, but he always seems to listen.”

Kawaru doesn’t reply, so now Izuku continues, speaking mostly to himself with his young audience sufficiently distracted by the air. Which is apparently more interesting than hearing him talk. But, again. Used to it. 

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“He… It’s sad, but whenever I first see him, every day, he’s always crying.” Izuku sees the picture of the red bridge he took, a little bubbling stream below it. “But when I’m there, he calms down.” A cat, curled up and nestled by a statue, their eyes closed with satisfaction. “He stops crying and tries to be close to me and...I don’t know. I guess I just…”

“...Uhm.”

“I guess I’m just thinking that…” A group of women dressed in kimonos, white makeup on their faces, their hair in amazing updos. One of the women has eyes like a snake, her second eyelids closed in the very next picture. “I’d be better off at that hospital sometimes. Making sure he’s okay.”

“...Uhm...Izu...Izuku?”

He changes to the next picture, which turns out to be some point where he nearly dropped his phone. The screen is fuzzy and blurred, and there’s no way to tell what’s supposed to be there. Izuku scoffs at it a little and deletes it with practiced ease.

“He’s all alone right now.”

He stops talking when he feels Kawaru’s hand curl in the back of his shirt.

Now that he’s out of his head again, the scene around him seems to bleed back into his consciousness. And the first thing he notices is that the air is loud with the sound of crows.

He blinks out of his stupor and looks up at the sky, just as many other people are, their fingers pointing up in alarm, some people crowding closer to each other or to buildings for safety.

A startling amount of crows have gathered, perched on the trees surrounding the shrine. Nearly every branch is heavy with them, the black wings flapping and beady eyes blinking. The crows heads turn and twist, some hopping along the fallen, dead leaves as they gather in a wide, noisy circle.

Izuku feels Kawaru’s hand curl tighter into his shirt, and he reaches back, steadying her with a hand against her shoulder. He begins to step back, eyes wide, careful so he doesn’t trip the girl using him for shelter.

“Let’s...let’s back up...to the haiden. Maybe...maybe it’ll be okay once we’re near the roof.”

Her forehead bumps lightly against his back in her nod, her voice lost in the cacophony around them, alarming them from all sides.

The crows on the ground hop closer, their feathers puffed out. Up above, the crows puff and flap their feathers, their necks sticking out as more of them join the already loud symphony. Their cries continue to grow in volume until it’s ringing in his head, making his eardrums hurt.

Izuku doesn’t personally know the nuances of bird behavior. He’s spent more time studying heroes rather than that. But it’s alright. He doesn’t have to know.

It’s very clear that the crows have found a threat. Either that, or someone is about to use their quirk in a very, very bad way.

Each step backwards feels like he could trigger a negative reaction, which he wants to avoid more than anything. Phone still in hand, he tries to not take his eyes off of the surrounding crows, fingers moving to try to call the police. He’s not sure if it’s a quirk, but it’s better safe than sorry. Maybe someone else has called, but he doesn’t know, nor would he be able to tell. He’s barely able to hear anything aside from the cries.

The trees are shaking now, the weight of the crows so heavy that some branches bend and sway with their movements.

And suddenly.

There’s one last very loud caw.

Then, in a flurry of feathers and flapping, all of the crows suddenly take flight.

Izuku startles and turns around quickly taking a hold of Kawaru, hiding her smaller body under his as she screams in terror.

[lifesasickjoke]

The Dirt

The Dirt - part 1

part 2

Pairing: Douglas!Nikki x Reader

Word count: 2809

Chapter summary: After Nikki finished playing his last gig with his band he had enough of, he and (Y/N) set out to form a new band with the drummer they met at the restaurant (Y/N) worked at. Not soon after, they have also found a snarky little lead guitarist called Mick and are now just missing their lead singer.

Warnings: A bit of swearing

I met Nikki Sixx when he was still Frank Carlton Feranna, Jr.

I tried to mug the scrawny little kid with the brownish hair falling into his eyes. He was a little over two years older than me and living on the streets, just like I did.

He took me into his care when we met each other again two weeks later, when I tried to mug him the second time (tried. He practically beat me up for the attempt) in a dark alleyway, where this group of older street rats drew a knife on me (also for attempted pickpocketing).

He saved me from possible death that day, and we have got each other's backs ever since.

Countless times have we been running from the cops, or bailing each other out of difficult situations. We've had the time of our lives until we both could leave the juvenile home.

Then real life started. Nikki joined the band after band playing the guitar while I waitressed in a nearby diner cafe. We both pulled together money to buy a shitty flat on the same road as the local hotspot for teenagers, the ‘Whiskey A Go Go’ club, where Nikki was playing tonight with the band he was currently in, London.

It is 1981.

I wanted to go an see the performance but it was still my shift at the diner I was working at so instead of being in the front row cheering on my best friend, I stood at the counter in a stupid little pink dress and a white apron.

I eyed the watch, seeing the minutes slowly stick by. I could of course always just ditch my job to watch Nikki play in the clubs, but we needed the money for rent and other life necessities.

The minute hand finally landed on it's desired spot. The concert would be over now.

I was already waiting for Nikki to walk through the diner doors as soon as more people filled the diner to hang out after the concert. I did tell him to meet me here after, dinner and drinks on me, so when Nikki did finally show up a couple of minutes late on the other side of the counter,

I was already worried. He would never miss a free drink opportunity. Ever.

‘Hey.’ he coyly said as he leaned against the counter with his back to me.

He was hoping to hide the blood that was dripping from his nose from me. Unfortunately for him though, the blood was pretty obvious.

‘Hey. Did you get into another fight?’ I asked as I put some orders from customers onto my tray.

Nikki turned and slumped onto the bar stool, elbow propped up and his head resting on his hand.

‘Yeah.’ he admitted, a small teasing smile playing at his lips. I raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

‘Right. You know where the bathroom is.’ I jerked my finger over my shoulder. Nikki dropped his head and dragged himself around the counter and disappear into the employees only room.

When he came back, most blood cleaned off his face, my shift was over. I dropped off my last orders as Nikki found a table and a newspaper. I disposed my apron and slid into the booth he was sitting at with two drinks and slid one over to him. He hummed and continued to leaf through the newspaper as he sipped the drink.

‘So. How'd it go?’ I encouraged a conversation.

Nikki only looked me dead in the eye with an annoyed gaze. It was his ‘‘isn't it obvious’’ look.

I laughed off the sternly playful look he would only give me.

‘Alright. I won't ask.’

But I still looked at him with big pleading eyes begging him to tell me. It was only his mistake to look back up at me from the newspaper when he figured I was too silent.

‘No.’ he warned.

‘Please?’ I asked nicely and wiggled my eyebrows. It made him suppress a chuckle.

‘No.’

‘Fine.’ I teasingly pouted and leaned back in my seat, arms crossed and avoiding his gaze. But out of the corners of my eyes, I saw him debate whether or not he should tell me. I knew he would give in eventually.

I dropped the subject though, losing interest in why. Instead, I ripped a tissue from the tissue dispenser and handed it to him.

‘Your nose is starting to bleed again.’ I said. He took the tissue and held it against his nose and pinched his nose bridge shut with his other hand.

‘Thanks.’ he nodded, with a more off-sounding voice.

A different waitress came over and sat down a plate of toast and beans for Nikki, but he seemed too occupied to eat it. So, I pulled it over and dug in.

‘Hey, that was badass, dude.’ a new voice said. A tall guy appeared out of nowhere and slapped Nikki's arms. He wore a bright yellow shirt under a leather jacket accompanied with incredibly tight leopard-printed pants. Two drum sticks were tucked behind his belt.

‘The show, not the nose, but-’ he continued, ‘the nose was pretty badass too.’

‘The singer’s an asshole.‘ Nikki grunted.

The stranger bounced on the spot excitedly, his long black hair bouncing with him.

‘I know, I saw. Hey, fuck him, though. He deserved it.’

When Nikki didn't answer though, the stranger looked at me, silently asking if he had said something wrong. I just smiled at him and leant back into my seat again.

‘I got your poster on my bedroom wall.’ the stranger broke the awkward silence.

I nearly choked on my drink because I tried to not laugh. Nikki gave him a stern look, without the playfulness I always get. The strangers face fell as he realised what he had just said.

The stranger groaned, ‘I can't believe I just said that.’

‘Take the fucking poster down, man. London's over.’ Nikki said. I gasped and leaned back towards him.

‘What? You could have at least told me that.’

A waitress came over to our table before nikki got the chance to reply.

‘Anything else I can get you, boys?’ she asked. The stranger slid into the space next to me.

Nikki put on his ‘‘good boy’’ persona and kindly asked the waitress, ‘could you get me a Jack and Coke?’

The waitress smiled at him, then turned to the stranger sitting next to me.

‘And for you, hon?’

‘Blueberry pancakes, please.’

She also turned to me, but I politely declined any offer.

‘My new band is gonna be something nobody's ever fuckin’ seen before.’ Nikki said when the waitress left. He took out a red pen and circled an ad on the page he was reading. The stranger suddenly pulled out one of his drum sticks, twirled it dangerously close to my face, and used it to point at an add in the newspaper. This startled both Nikki and me.

‘That dude looks pretty cool.’ he commented.

With his head still down at the paper, Nikki looked at me through his eyelashes with a small smile, before sitting upright and turning his head to the stranger.

‘Do you carry those with you everywhere?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’ the man sitting next to me nodded and twirled one of the strum sticks in his hand.

I looked at the complex movement in amazement.

‘Where’d you learn to do that?’

The stranger stopped twirling the drum stick.

‘High school marching band.’ he defeatedly admitted.

Before anyone else could comment, he added, ‘hey, but I rock too.’

The waitress came back and sat a glass of Coca Cola and a smaller bottle of jack in front of Nikki.

‘Thank you, Dottie.’ he sighed sweetly.

‘Only for you.’ the waitress nodded.  When she left, Nikki unscrewed the jack bottle and swung it back. I leaned across the table and grabbed the Coke (Nikki would usually let me have his Cokes so at this point I didn't even bother to ask before i took it).

A couple of days later, back in the apartment Nikki and I shared.

As Nikki, Tommy (the drummer) and Alex (the blond haired auditioner) jammed away on a few chords, I sat on the sofa opposite to them reading a book.

‘Woah, woah, woah!’ Nikki interrupted, the bass of the song died out soon followed by Alex and drum. I looked over at the group out of interest.

‘What the fuck, dude?’ Nikki accused Alex ‘that's not what I showed you, man.’

‘Yeah, I know, but it's not like anything I've ever played before man.’ he replied.

Nikki sighed in defeat and turned to me silently begging me to make him stop complaining.

‘That's the fucking point, man.’

I shut my book and stood up abruptly

‘Let's take a break.’ I suggested.

Nikki put down his bass and stretched. I pulled his shirt sleeve and motioned my head towards the door.

‘Tommy, you too.’ I called back, motioning towards the door.

We could hear Alex continuing his practice of the few chords. Tommy laughed at his failed attempts.

I held out my lighter for Tommy who had a fresh cigarette sticking out of his mouth as we all leant over the railing. I don't smoke myself, but I always carry a lighter for my friends.

‘I'm just not feeling it man. I can't put my...my...’ Nikki complained.

‘He's a rhythm guy, man. We‘ll sound better when we find a lead.’ Tommy reassured.

‘I think you guys already sound great.’ I said. I tried to offer the group more confidence.

A car pulled up in front of the apartment building, loud rock music blaring from its radio. The car tires squealed and the drivers' door opened.

‘Holy shit.’ Nikki smiled. A man got out of the car and slowly walked towards it's back where the trunk window was left open to make room for a gigantic speaker.

‘Check this dude out.’ Tommy chuckled.

He took one more drag from his cigarette before skipping down the steps to help the man.

‘Who’s he?’ I asked.

Nikki just shrugged.

‘He might be here for the audition.’

‘Someone as old as him?’ I questioned. Nikki shrugged again and pushed off the railing to make his way down the steps as well.

I watched from the terrace as Tommy helped the man carry the speaker over.

‘I'm the drummer’ Tommy introduced himself.

‘Scrawny for a drummer.’ the man said. I scoffed in agreement.

‘I used to be in Suite 19, so…’ Tommy droned like it explained everything.

‘Shitty band.’ the man said.

‘Hey, man, did you ever even see us play?’ Tommy asked in offence.

‘Suite 19? Don't need to. Band with a shitty name, ten times out of ten, shitty band.’ the man replied in a cold tone. His whole dark outfit and pale skin as well as his black hair made him stand out from all the people i have ever seen before. In a way, he kinda reminds me of a vampire.

They reached the stairs and slowly made their way up.

‘Hey.’ the man greeted Nikki.

‘Hey, man.’ Nikki answered with a small nod.

‘What the fuck do you know?’ I could hear Tommy continuing to argue, not accepting that the old man would diss his previous band like this.

‘Been in a lot of bands with shitty names.’ the man grunted as they made their way up the stairs. I leaned further over the railing and spoke to Nikki.

‘I think I like him. We’re keeping him.’

Nikki craned his neck to look up at me, he squinted against the sun.

‘Depends on how well he plays. Besides, I get to decide who's in or not.’

‘Alright, alright.’ I agreed and opened the door to the flat for Tommy, then skidded back to the railing, ‘But you love me dearly and certainly take my opinions and words into consideration.’

Nikki turned and smiled at me but scoffed and shook his head. I was the last to be back inside the apartment.

‘So, you think you got it?’ Nikki asked as I flopped back onto the run-down sofa.

Mick Mars, the older man, grunted.

‘Let's just fucking play it.’

He plugged his guitar into his Marshal radio and started playing the rock riff. The other three members joined in after him.

I smiled and instinctively tapped my foot along with the beat. My fingers doing their own rhythmic drumming as I watched the group play.

Mick stepped forwards dropped an awesome loud complex solo. My smile grew even wider.

But i could see that Alex wasn’t happy with it. He brought his hand up and motioned for everyone to stop.

‘Whoa! Woah! Hold up! Hey, mind turning down a little bit, old timer? I can't hear myself.’

I chuckled at the insult, but turned it into a cough when I thought Mick glared at me.

‘Fucking hippie ain't gonna make it.’ Mick sighed and turned to Nikki, talking lowly so Alex couldn't hear him.

Nikki nodded.

‘So tell him.’

Mick sighed again and turned to Alex. He sternly began a lecture, like a father telling off his son.

‘Listen to me. There's only room for one guitar player in this band, and that's me. So why don't you, uhm, pack up your toys and go home?’

Alex's mouth fell open, clearly offended. I bit down harshly on my lip to stop myself from laughing.

‘Okay, I was here first, all right?’

He then motioned to the drum set.

‘Tommy, tell him.’

To avoid the argument, Tommy made it look like he accidentally dropped his drumstick. It fell to the floor with a loud clack and he immediately dove after it, effectively hiding behind his drums.

Alex became desperate, ‘Nikki? Come on.’

Nikki huffed and raised his shoulders in a shrug.

The blond guitarist even turned to me after he saw the disapproving and bored look Mick was giving him.

‘(Y/N)?’

Apologetically I smiled, and opened my book and slid it in front of my face so I could hide behind it. Mick Mars was just better.

‘Really?’ Alex cried, looking at us again for any help and pointed at Mick.

‘You’re gonna listen to this old dude over me?’

Everyone but Mick failed to meet Alex's eyes.

‘Then fuck you guys, man.’ his voice became higher as he unplugged his guitar, ‘and your shitty fucking band!’

He slammed the door as he left. I probably heard him crying.

Tommy chuckled dryly. Then shook his hair out of his face and forgot all about Alex.

‘So how old are you, Mick?’ he asked innocently.

‘Fuck you, you fucking teenager.’ Mick said.

I laughed teasingly but in a nice way. ‘I bet he's ancient. Like a fossil.’

‘Yeah, you're goddamn right I'm old. Old enough to know better than to waste my time fucking around with a bunch of rug-monkeys.’ Mick grunted as he sat down on a stool.

Nikki came back from the kitchen with three beers and a Coke. He handed two to Mick and Tommy, then fell onto the sofa next to me, stretched and leaned back. He rested his arm on the sofa ledge behind me.

If I were to lean back, his arm would be around my shoulders. Which gave that well known feeling of butterflies return to my chest?

He gave me the Coke after opening it for me.

Mick then continued his complaint, ‘I'm paying child support and sleeping on park benches, so I need to know you're not pulling dick here. ‘Cause I'm looking to go the distance. And if that's not you guys, let's not waste the fucking time.’

Tommy and Nikki looked at Mick with their mouths hanging open.

‘I fucking love this weird little guy.’ laughed Nikki as he got up from the sofa.

‘He's real, dude.’ Tommy high fived Nikki, then also tried to give a high five to Mick, who only looked tiredly at the outstretched hand.

‘Sorry.’ Tommy muttered.

Nikki dropped back down onto the sofa and repositioned himself into the same position as before. He opened a note pad with the lyrics and looked over them.

‘So… someone mind telling me who does the singing in this band?’ Mick asked. He looked at me.

‘Oh n-no, I don't do the singing.’ I shook my head.

‘What we need is a dude that looks like David Lee Roth with a vibe like fucking Bowie,’ Nikki interrupted. I was surprised he still remembered I hated to be put on the spot.

‘And I'm not about to settle from some regular looking, normal sounding asshole.’

‘So… we’re looking for a skinny, blond fucker with moves.’ Mike noted.

Tommy's eyebrows drew together and his beer stopped halfway to his lips.

‘Wait. I think I know our guy, dudes.’

Tag list: @getthefckouttahere (thanks for the help my love)