#i have an inkling i know who it is but i’ll nap instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

My lovely, when you get a chance and/or feel so inclined, id love you forever if youd write a part 2 to the story where Boba’s wife is prego, we need a little Fett heir to the throne lol. Ily! ❤️

I couldn’t resist! Enjoy!

Can be read as a stand alone or part 2 to this!

Boba Fett x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Star Wars Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were tired, so tired. And why? You hadn't even done anything to cause you to experience the tiredness that was dragging you down. If anything, you should have been wide awake and ready to take on the day. But as soon as you'd gotten up and eaten breakfast, you were just about ready for a nap.

That was after you'd rushed to the fresher in order to heave up everything you had just eaten.

Strange. It must have been something from breakfast - perhaps some of the fruit had been off or...something. There really wasn't anything that you thought it could be. But obviously something had disagreed with you.

"What's wrong, Little One?" A concerned expression was on his face as he removed the helmet as he came back into your bedroom. He'd expected to find you flitting around the sprawling palace tending to odds and ins, but he hadn't spotted hide not hair of you all day, "I haven't seen you all day."

"Nothing," you offered up the best smile you could muster up as you looked up from the soft bed where you were currently buried under a mountain of blankets, "just taking a nap."

"You've been tired lately," a note of concern colored his tone as he came over and sat at the edge of bed. You made a small sound as you pouted at him, shrugging your shoulders lightly. He sighed before taking his hand and gently brushing the hair out of your face. He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead before following suit with your cheeks, "is everything alright?"

"Yes," you whispered softly, "I guess I'm just going through a phase. I'm sure its nothing - don't worry about me, Boba."

"I always worry," he inhaled and exhaled deeply before leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours, "I need to leave soon. I can stay if you prefer, if you're not feeling well."

"No, no, no," you insisted firmly, sitting up and fervently shaking your head, "Boba, you're not staying behind because of me. You've got to go and you will. Besides, someone needs to stay back and look over the place. It - I will be fine, I swear it."

"If you're sure-"

"Boba Fett," you tugged on his cowl, "You're going and that is final. Besides, I'll have Fennec here. Everything will be fine."

"I love you," he insisted as you beamed at him, "I'll be back soon. I won't be gone long."

"I'll hold you to it," you said as he kissed you gently, "promise me one thing?"

"Hmm?"

"Quit worrying so much!" you tapped his nose, attempting to make light of the situation, but Boba was not having it. It made you smile a little, however, to see this big, bad Mandalorian let you tease him in such a manner. Had it been anyone else in the galaxy, they would be dead on their feet within seconds, "Boba - for me? Try anyways?"

"I lost you once," he reminded you as a solemn look crossed your features, "I will not do it again."

"And I lost you too," he was not the only one who had suffered during your years of separation, "but we found our way back to each other. We always will - besides I'm not the one going out to hunt down quarry. I'll be here, safe and sound."

"Little One-"

"Boba Fett, are you forgetting that I once was the same as you?" you arched a brow as he huffed lightly and admitted silent defeat, "I am out of practice but I won't be alone. Now go and get ready - the sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back."

»»————-　♡　————-««

But then a week passed. And another. And then before you knew it, you were approaching three weeks without Boba. You knew he was fine, as you required, maybe even begged, for him to communicate with you and keep you in the loop as much as possible when he was gone.

But still - it wasn't the same as having him at home and within arms length.

Kriff. Hopefully he'd be back soon. Maybe -

But you didn't have enough time to think further into any sort of scheme as the contents of your stomach churned and you ran to the nearest the fresher.

Fennec had been looking for you, concerned at this point for your health as well. You hadn't been looking well for weeks and she was sure something was up.

"Hey," she said gently with a rap of her knuckles on the door. You sighed heavily with a wipe to your mouth as you sat down on the floor. The sniper, small but fierce, came in and sat next to you, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, "are you okay? This has been going on for weeks."

"I dunno, Fen," you admitted, "I think its just some bug but I can't shake. I'm sure it'll get better soon."

"And I'm sure you should go and see a healer," she was insistent and while she had inklings of suspicion, she wasn't going to mention those just yet, "or I'll be forced to tell Fett.”

“You’re worrying over nothing,” you insisted with a small roll of your eyes. Sometimes you didn’t know who was worse - Fennec or Boba. Surely one had to have learned from the other as they became increasingly protective over you, “it’s fine, Fen.”

“It’s my job to worry about you,” she reminded you softly, “otherwise Fett will have my head. Besides, I happen to care about you as well. Please go to the healer this afternoon and just get a check up. What can it hurt?”

“Fine,” you agreed, begrudgingly, crossing your arms over your chest, “fine. But when nothing is wrong, I will gladly tell you both I told you so.”

“We’ll see about that, Princess,” Fennec gently pushed your hair out of your face as you huffed lightly. You felt more like a child than a respected adult at that moment.

»»————-　♡　————-««

As you made your way back home - the newly redone and revamped palace that was welcoming to all - an odd sense settled over you. You felt...a million different things all at once, but none of them seemed real. A few tears had run down your cheeks as you almost laughed to yourself. You certainly weren’t going to be able to tell them I told you so after this.

And yet you didn’t mind - not at all. In fact, among all the worries and fears that rushed through your body, you were excited. Thrilled even. Who would have thought?

Marching down the stairs to the throne room, you expected to find Fennec to share your news with her, but instead you found a different sight. One that sent a spike of excitement flowing through your blood.

“Boba!” you hopped down the last few steps and bounded over to him. He immediately looked up from what he was working on, a smile gracing his features as he held his arms open to you. You almost bowled him over in your excitement, a feat compared to how much of a tank he was in the armor, “my love - you’re home!”

“As are you,” he kissed the top of your head before putting his hands on either side of your face, “Fennec told me you went to see the healer. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, but it can wait - how was your trip?”

“It was fine,” he gave you a curious look, “just business as usual. Now tell me - what aren’t you telling me?”

“You weren’t hurt or anything were you?” you looked him up and down, checking his face to make sure there were no new marks or injuries before following suit with the parts of him that were exposed to you. He scoffed lightly as you fawned over him, but deep down the big bad bounty hunter lavished in your praise, “no mishaps?”

“No mishaps, no injuries,” he promised as you peppered a few kisses across his cheeks, “out with it, Little One. I know you’re hiding something, you always get like this.”

“Hmmm,” you mused as you took a step backwards and tried your best to keep from brimming over with excitement, “and you are always a big worry wart over nothing, my love.”

“Only when it comes to you,” he insisted with a waggle of his finger, “now out with it, what’s going on.”

“Remember how I was feeling before you left?” you asked and he nodded with a grimace, “well I haven’t been feeling better-”

“You told me you had,” he accused as you gave him a sheepish look, “were you lying to me?”

“Maybe…” you plastered on the most innocent expression you could, “but none of it matters-”

“Of course it does!”

“Hush,” you held a finger up to his lips in order to silence him, “lemme finish. Well, this morning I still wasn’t feeling better, and Fennec insisted I go to the healer. She insisted and said you would too.”

“Of course I would, I’ve been telling you since -”

“I know, I know, I know,” you rushed out the words, very fiber of your being trembling with excitement, “I found out the reason I haven’t been well.”

“Is it a bug?” he asked as you shook your head, causing him to tilt his head to side in confusion, “if it’s not...what could it possibly be?”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out excitedly, unable to hold back any longer. Boba’s face shifted through about a million expressions as he looked at you expectantly and you nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth before he pulled you into his arms, clutching you against him as tightly as he possibly could, “we’re having a baby, Boba!”

“A baby,” he back as he studied your face, gently wiping away at the tears that had rolled down your cheeks while his own eyes glistened as well, “Little One - cyare - this is far better than I could have expected.”

“I know,” you agreed as he kissed you, “I never thought...it all makes sense now. The fatigue, not being able to keep food down - it’s so obvious. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.”

“A baby,” he was incredulous, unable to form a coherent thought at the exciting news. He never thought he would get this - you, a baby, an empire, anything - but it was, all coming to bless him at once. He had never been more thankful than in that moment. He looked down at your stomach, where there was still no evidence of your pregnancy just yet, but sighed contentedly before placing a gentle hand over it. He couldn’t wait to see you grow round with your child - his child - as time went on. If you thought he was protective over you before, then you were in for something else. Now that he had everything he could possibly ever want, he was never letting it go.

“You’re - you’re happy right, my love?” you asked as he met your eyes, lips trembling as they were tugged up lightly in the corners. Touching his cheek lightly, he keened into your touch before you gave him a gentle kiss, “I know we didn’t...plan this, but I’m happy.”

“Me too,” he promised as he wrapped you into another warm hug, this time being gentle with your stomach as you laughed, “I am happier than any man deserves to be. All thanks to you, Little One. I love you.”

“I love you too Boba,” you agreed, “I am so happy, so so happy. But there is one thing…”

“You’re not going to be able to call me Little One much longer,” you grinned as you put on your belly, “not once the real little one comes around.”

“Nonsense,” he insisted softly, “you’ll always be my Little One, Princess. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#boba fett #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #the Mandalorian #temuera morrison

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kodzukyan · 4 years ago

Text

two hearts, four broken pieces (now we’re unbreakable)

notes: happiest belated birthday to my grand king <3 lots of (long?) dialogue, long talks at the beach, kinda clunky, but i hope you enjoy :> song accompaniment recommendation: unbreakable by lauren dyson (carole & tuesday) & everything i need by skylar grey! also posted on ao3.

summary: you were there like the air when i felt like i was underwater. AU in which you have matching birthmarks on your heart as your soulmate. - oikawa/oc

wc: 6.2k

The clock ticks continually as you finish reviewing the club budget for the upcoming school year. As the last rays of the sun begin to dim into a darkening blue, the clock rings loudly, signaling the end of club activities. The other student council members routinely leave by five, and after a quick goodbye and wave, two hours pass by without you knowing. You glance at your watch, and you sigh softly as you see the shorthand reach seven.

There are still numbers that do not add up, but you suppose that has to wait. Getting up to stretch, you automatically head to the keys cabinet to see which keys are still missing. As usual, the keys to the volleyball gym have yet to be returned.

Like any other day, you sigh again. This is a rather normal occurrence as the volleyball team tends to stay as late as you do. Normally, you don't mind since it’s not a big deal - you’re usually still here to lock up after they leave. Today, however, you’re rather exhausted and would like to finish up your report and just go home. Putting on your white blazer and patting down the wrinkles of your tan skirt, you make certain you’re presentable before you head out of the room and towards the volleyball gym.

A resounding smack reverberates through the air before you even enter the gym. You knock twice on the gym doors, and when there is no answer, you open the doors soundlessly and enter the gym. The gym is unoccupied except for one lone player, making the echoes of each movement louder.

He doesn’t notice you, and as you see him jump to hit a serve, you are in awe by the strength and impact of it as it lands. It astonishes you a little to discover the normally flirty eyes and teasing smiles with such intense concentration and seriousness. When you see a faint smile on his face as his serve lands within the lines of the court, you wonder if this is what he really is like. As he recovers another ball to try again, you clear your throat. This time, you catch his attention, somewhat.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan! You don’t have to wait for me. I’m almost done!” he calls out, eyes never leaving the court.

“Sorry, Oikawa-san. I am not Iwaizumi-san. While I do have to say I am extremely impressed with your tenacity, I am afraid it's late and time for you to go home,” you say politely with a perfectly practiced smile on your face.

The ball he tossed into the air previously drops straight down onto the floor and bounces as he hears your voice. He jerks his head towards you, and you almost want to laugh when you see his gaping mouth.

“Oh, Pres-chan! I wasn’t expecting you!” he recovers swiftly, a hand behind his head and his tongue sticking out humorously.

Ah, he’s back to his normal self.

“Apologies again,” you nod, a courteous smile never leaving your face, despite your slight disdain for your new nickname. You’ve learned it is easiest to deal with people with a perfect smile, lips upturned slightly at a 45-degree angle and eyes crinkled together lightly.

He stares at you intensely as you smile. While his eyes are analytical enough to press anyone under, it doesn’t bother you because you are used to such scrutiny.

“I’ll pack up! Pres-chan, wait for me! I’ll walk you home since it’s so late.” He finally softens in his stares and begins picking up the balls around the court.

“No need to worry about me, Oikawa-san. There are still some matters for me to finish up at the student council room,” you assure him courteously despite your mild annoyance at your stray strand of hair that fell out of your neat ponytail as you tuck it behind your ear.

“No, no! I insist! It’s so late, so it’s dangerous for cute girls like you, Pres-chan!” he protests as he continues cleaning.

You begin assisting him to pick up the balls and grab the mops to clean up the gym. The more hands there are, the faster you two get to leave. After cleaning up the gym and returning the keys to the student council room, you continue to decline his offer of walking you home. Being around him for a little less than 30 minutes has already tired you, but you find it more draining to talk him out of it so you just relent.

He accompanies you back to your house at your pace, constantly filling the silence with some sort of conversation. He seems to recognize your need for distance, so he keeps the conversation light, never diving in deeper than what you are willing to give. You respond as amiable as you could with this surface-level sort of conversation. This is comfortable, this is straightforward, this is not about who you are, so you find it easy to keep up your practiced smile and pleasantry.

For what it’s worth, you can understand why he’s so popular. He’s attractive, and his personality is tolerable enough. But something about him is slightly unpleasant to you. You have an inkling of what it is, but you’re not ready to open the tightly sealed jar of emotions yet.

When you reach your stop and he bids you goodbye, you find yourself face to face with your cousin, who just squeals and questions you.

“Who is he?” she exclaims loudly, far too energetic for so late at night. “What if he is your soulmate?!”

You smile tersely, “He is just a classmate.”

She only looks at you in confusion. “Eh? You never know! Did you already see his mark?”

You flash her a practiced smile as you excuse yourself.

“No, I was born without one.”

---

You like routine. This is something you’ve established for as long as you remember. If things are set in place, set in stone, then they are less likely to fall apart, to break.

So when walking home with Oikawa Tooru stays as a recurring part of your days, it makes you uneasy.

This is not part of your normal routine. But you suppose him returning the volleyball gym keys instead of you wrestling him for them is also not part of your normal routine.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re kind of dumb."

You finally look up from your papers. Your pen still in hand, eyes in disbelief, and voice laced with venom as you hiss, “Excuse me?”

“Pres-chan, even I know when to stop. It's nearly 8 in the evening. Your body needs rest so you can function as efficiently as you always want to,” he rolls his eyes as he air-quotes the word efficiently. The volleyball gym keys jingle in his hand as he does so, and the sound of it aggravates your headache.

"This is coming from the one who stays behind two hours every day after club activity ends? Stop trying to preach what you don’t practice." Your grip on your pen tightens.

"I take Mondays off," he shrugs and offers a lopsided smile. There's a serious glint in his eyes despite his casual gestures.

You know he's right because the keys to the volleyball club always hang neatly and untouched every Monday. You know he's right when you finally let yourself feel the tiredness in your body. You know he's right when your headache finally catches up to you, but you simply cannot completely let go.

Maybe he sees your sagging shoulders and weary eyes, so he doesn't press the matter anymore. He hangs the clubroom keys in the cabinet before he walks over.

"You can rest, you know?"

You do, but you can't. Not when there are so many reports to fill out and papers to file, not when the club budgeting still isn't adding up, not when you have to be the you that your father created inside his head. Your brows cease together as your head throbs. Before you could respond, you feel a gentle pat on your head that brings you out of your thoughts.

"You're doing great, Pres-chan. Take a break," he speaks softly as he strokes your head.

You close your eyes at his touch, and you relish in his gentleness. For someone with such calloused hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. His voice sounds distant, and it feels like he's speaking past you, like he's speaking to whoever he sees in place of you. You think maybe this is what you needed anyways, this is what you want to hear even if he’s speaking to himself through you.

"Take a nap. I'll wake you up in 20 minutes," he ruffles your hair, messing up your perfectly tied ponytail.

You glance at him briefly, and his stupid smile irritates you. Maybe your headache is getting the better of you, maybe you’re just too tired, but you find yourself nodding as your shoulders finally drop in defeat. "10 minutes."

He laughs as he agrees, and when you finally lay your head down and close your eyes, you briefly feel the warmth of his jersey before you drift off.

When you wake, you find that Oikawa is sitting beside you, humming a soft tune as he scrolls on his phone. It takes you a moment to blink the sleep out of your eyes, and then it occurs to you that he never woke you up. Your eyes flutter to the clock, and when you see that it's a little past 9, you panic. You shoot instantly up from your seat, and your sudden movement leaves you dizzy as the world around you rapidly spins in color. Oikawa stops mid-hum as looks up from his phone before he secures your arm to steady you.

"Holy shit, I thought I told you to wake me up in 10 minutes. The papers need to be filed so we can work on the report due next week. I need to finish the reports, so I can turn them in on Friday. The budgeting excel -."

"Pres-chan." He cuts you off as he takes his hand off your arm and pokes your forehead. "I filed the papers on your desk. They go into their respective color-coded drawers, right? And the reports are just club updates, yeah? I arranged them by club type, so you can just sort through them later. Also, I put the volleyball club on top, so get to us first, okay?" he teases lightly and sticks his tongue out mischievously. "I didn't mess with your budgeting excel because it's not my place to, but don't you think you can ask your treasurer to explain their budgeting and money management so far?"

You blink at him in silence as you take in all the information he told you. You glance over at your desk and see the piles of loose paper gone. In place are new stacks of reports clipped together with the assortment of pastel paper clips you brought last month on a whim. Your surprise overtakes you as you let out a shaky breath.

"Oh," you whisper, breath still quivering and voice slightly trembling. "Thank you."

You make a mental note to double-check everything again in the morning, just in case. That thought almost flies out of your head when you glance over, and the smile he flashes you is so bright you almost forget how to breathe.

"You're welcome."

When he accompanies you home that night, your steps feel a little lighter and your heart soars a little higher as you catch a glimpse of his profile, eyes fixated on the stars above as he tells you stories of constellations and aliens.

---

While you’re not an avid volleyball fan, witnessing their defeat to Karasuno in such a close match, watching the light in their eyes dim into a quiet somber crush on your heart. When the match was over and they asked for the keys to the gym, you gave it to them without hesitation although the gym is supposed to be closed for cleaning later today.

Throughout the hours, you find yourself unable to completely focus on the paperwork in front of you. Your eyes keep trailing to the empty key slot where the gym keys are supposed to be, and your ears are fixated on each tick of the clock. Fidgeting with your pen, you finally give in and let out an uneven sigh when the clock rings eight. After smoothing out your skirt and blazer and retying your neat ponytail, you make your way to the gym.

As always, you knock on the doors before coming in. Only silence greets you.

The gym is vacant, and the cheering crowds and rest of the volleyball team members have long gone home after their spontaneous practice. Volleyballs are still scattered everywhere, the net is still up, but none of that matters as your eyes focus on the lone figure lingering in this solemn, almost crushing, silence.

His eyes are downcast, but you can tell from the hitching movement of his chest and the pooling puddle in his lap that he hasn't stopped crying. There is so much you want to tell him, but no words come to you. You’re not even sure if you’re in a position to say anything, but when you see him sitting there defeated and crying silently, a split image of yourself instead of him appears for a moment. The tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve repeatedly tried to suppress opens.

"You don't have to be perfect, you know?" you tell him softly.

He doesn't look up and only clenches his fists.

You pat the creases out of your skirt as you squat down, hands gently touching his before clasping them firmly. The words burn in the back of your throat as your eyes tear because you know. You know this feeling, this absolutely crushing feeling when all you have is taken away and you’re just left with nothing. Maybe you’re projecting your failures onto him, maybe this is just what you wanted to hear, but you tell him all the same.

"You're so much more than just your losses," you whisper with gentle firmness, "This is not the end. Not for you. Not for your volleyball."

His calloused hands only grip yours tightly as his silent tears fall and roll off your skin.

"You are not your failures."

You barely detect the sound of him letting out a deep breath, but he squeezes your hands. It may not be enough, it may not be okay, but it’s a start.

As the two of you sit in silence, you can merely laugh at yourself for ever thinking Oikawa Tooru was anywhere close to perfect. He is incredibly fragile, human, and unlike a star that you thought you could never reach, he is here beside you. He sniffles every so often, and when every so often becomes more often than not, you laugh lightly and offer him a tissue.

He accepts it with a sniffle, and as he blows his nose, you could only crinkle your nose.

“Ew, you’re gross,” you lightly poke fun at him.

“I was going to say thank you, but I take it back now,” he gasps dramatically.

You roll your eyes as you offer him the rest of your tissues. “It’s fine. I don’t need your thanks. Just… feel better.”

“Thank you,” he whispers anyway as he props his head on yours.

---

You hear three knocks, two fast knocks, a pause as if it’s left for drastic effects, before the third knock, in a familiar rhythm. Instantly, the wooden doors of the student council room open, and brown hair and honey-colored eyes peek in.

“Wanna do something fun with me, Pres-chan?” Oikawa asks, eyes brilliant and smile equally mischievous.

"... Depends on what it is," you raise an eyebrow at him as you look up from finishing some preparations for university. You've substantially given up trying to advise him to wait before barging into the student council room.

He wiggles his eyebrows before he grins. “Let’s go to the rooftop!"

It takes you a moment to comprehend what he said because while it’s not that crazy, the rooftop is off-limits to students. Subsequently, it occurs to you that out of your three years here, you've under no circumstances done anything remotely rebellious. The adrenaline hits you, so you snatch the keys to the rooftop before heading out the door.

"Alright, let's go."

He freezes before his mouth drops and gasps dramatically. "Heh, Pres-chan, looks like you really aren't that much of a good girl after all."

You roll your eyes at him, and a soft smile finds a way to your face before you walk out. "Hurry up, or I'm leaving you behind."

"Wait for me!!" You hear the scampering footsteps, and you swear you can hear his pout.

This is the first time you’ve ever been on the rooftop, you think, as you finally unlock the door and step out into the sun. It’s a little past seven, and you think the sun is going to set soon as it slowly fades behind the Miyagi skylines in bursts of orange. You close your eyes as the wind blows, almost as if it’s greeting you. You can see why people skip all the time to be up here.

“Feels pretty good, huh?” Oikawa stands beside you as the wind tousles his hair and the sun kisses his skin. He looks radiant under the sunlight, and you merely hope he doesn’t hear the fluttering of your heart.

“Yeah,” you nod along, “I… I wish I came up here earlier.

Honey brown eyes so deep and warm, staring directly at you, and there is something that you’re terrified to name. You always thought love was something dramatic, once in a lifetime, and it just hits you like a train out of nowhere. With Oikawa Tooru, it feels more like learning to walk - steadily, one step after another, until he becomes a part of your natural routine.

You can see the longing and something akin to love in his eyes, but you know it's not love. You know when he loves, he loves with all his being. Right now, there is something, but it's not love because he sees not only you but also past you. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel, the future where he's standing on a volleyball court with his name on the back of a national team jersey. He sees the passion and the love he has for volleyball beyond you, and even when he's here in the moment, even when he likes you, he sees something greater.

Your heart clenches because you want it to be you, you want you, this to be enough. But you know he is meant for something so much greater. He is meant for the stage lights of an international court, living and thriving with so much passion and love for the sport he dedicates his life to. He is unmeant to be here, to be held back by something called love.

You try ignoring the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, try ignoring the way his eyes linger at your lips as if he wants to kiss you. You try ignoring your yearning heart when all you can hear in your head is him telling you he's going to Argentina.

“You’re going to do great in Argentina.” You swallow the lump in your throat and interlace your own fingers together to prevent yourself from reaching out and holding his hand.

He blinks, and slowly retracts his extended hand, and swallows the words he wants to tell you. “Oh, uhm,” he hesitates. “Geez, Pres-chan! Don’t make it sound like we’re never going to see each other again!” he pouts dramatically, voice creaking just ever so slightly and eyes lacking the playful glint in it. “We’ll see each other again.”

He sounds hesitant, almost as if he’s doubtful if he can uphold the words of a promise. He doesn’t deserve to be held back by a promise.

You let him go.

It’s funny because you don’t even think he is yours to let go, but you smile anyway as you catch his unfaltering eyes back on the sunset. He is the one who teaches you a little bit about being okay, the one who first opens the tightly sealed jar and lets a gale of fresh air into your world.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly. Your hand finds its way to him, fingertips ghosting over his hand almost as if you didn’t just reject his moments ago.

The wind blows softly, and the blooming cherry blossoms flutter as he blinks in confusion before he smiles crookedly too. In a world where you are braver, you would have voiced the three words lingering on your mind instead of the two that came out, and your lips would have been on his instead of settling for a ghost of a touch of hands. But in this world, this is all you can do, all you can intend for.

Instead, the two of you continue to stand in silence, sharing this one last moment where he can stand on both legs without leaning to his left to accommodate for his right knee, where you can laugh in a loose smile and ruffled hair without feeling the need to fix them. It’s satisfactory, you tell yourself, this is enough.

While he may not be your soulmate, while you have no soulmate mark, it hurts all the same. Your heart still breaks as the falling sunlight fades into the deep indigo skies, as he waves goodnight, as you watch him go with the world on his shoulders and wings on his back. The hollowness in your chest aches, and you wonder if this is what heartbreak feels like.

---

“Funny, huh? Out of all the people in the world, out of all the places in the world, I end up meeting you on an Argentinian beach, thousands of miles away from home,” you stifle your laughter softly.

The hot summer wind blows into your unbound hair, bringing grains of sand and the scent of the ocean. The shore calls you, and you find yourself wiggling your toes in the clear waters. As you look to the horizon, you find that the crystalline waters contrast vividly against the soft pinks and oranges of the fading sun. It’s so surreal, and it makes you momentarily forget that there are responsibilities, people waiting for you back at home.

The faint rustling and the loud splash of water wake you from your trance, and you find Oikawa Tooru running into the waters carefreely. His pants are roughly rolled up just barely above the water level. His eyes are tender and his smile is wide as he holds his hand out to you.

“Come on, Pres-chan,” he gestures his hand in front of you again. “The water feels really nice!”

You take a moment to breathe because he looks beautiful with his brown eyes twinkling mischievously and lips upturned jovially and carefreely against the fleeting sunset. You smile once more, lips upturn softly instead of the traditional 45 degrees, as the last strands of your hair frees from your hair tie.

You briefly remember being eighteen, standing on the rooftop of your high school. His hand is extended, but you were too afraid to take it, too afraid to become a burden. You blink once and think maybe this time, he should have a say in his own decisions instead of you selfishly making it for him. You take his hand, hesitantly and shyly, as you take your first steps into the water.

Time stills as your eyes meet his brown ones. He stares at you dumbfoundedly, and you are unsure if the pinks of his cheeks are from you or the sunset.

“You look happier,” he finally comments softly, “I’m glad.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. Your hand covers a slight laugh that breaks from your lips. You take in his wind-tousled chestnut hair and eyes closed from his laughter, his muscular body that no longer tends to lean on his left side absentmindedly to protect his right knee, and you realize he is more genuine, more candid, more Oikawa Tooru than the one you’ve known since high school.

“You do too.”

”Wanna grab drinks after?” Oikawa asks nonchalantly as the two of you finally make your way out of the water and sit under the broad umbrella from the blazing sun. His long legs are stretched out as he leans back, hands propping him up.

Despite his relaxed posture and even voice, you see his fingers wiggling in the sand and the pinks peeking on his cheeks and the tip of his ears. It almost makes you laugh because you’re certain you can reckon on one hand how many times Oikawa Tooru seems so timid.

“I mean”- he continues, taking your silence as a declination, -“just as friends, to catch up, you know? How have you been? Oh! What about your cousin? Didn’t she -”

“Okay,” you laugh lightly. “I’d be happy to.”

“-Oh, now that I think about it, what did you end up doing- wait -” he pauses mid-sentence as he stares at you bewilderedly, ”-okay?”

“Yes,” you laugh again, much louder and without restraint. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats after you again.

“Yes, okay.” You nod.

The smile he gives you is so bright it outshines the sun.

---

"So, how are you?" he asks again once you're seated beside him, a beer in hand and dusk in view.

You offered a general answer earlier, and it started a train of small talk that never breaches past the surface. It reminds you of high school and leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

The beach in Argentina is always full of life, but it's quieter now. Maybe it's the fact that it's getting late or the fact that you're on your third beer already, all you can focus on is the man beside you.

Maybe you're more honest now too because he looks like he wants to ask more. (Like he asks “how are you?” when all his eyes are saying is “I love you.”)

"I threw my phone into the ocean and got in a screaming match with my dad," you tell him honestly.

You can feel his gaze on you as he lets out a soft hum to let you know he's listening. It used to unnerve you whenever he looks at you like that, whenever he makes you feel so transparent. Now, it makes you smile because he always makes you feel so seen.

"He told me to be all these things that I am not because he wanted me to have a good life. I know his intentions and know it makes him happy. But I was so fed up with just constantly not being enough for who he wanted me to be, so I told him I just wanted to be his daughter."

You don't realize your hands are shaking until you feel his hands on yours. He pulls the beer bottle out of your hands before he places them into his own and squeezes them.

"And what did he say?" he asks softly, recalling all the late nights and the mask you put on at school in the name of a shadow that always looms over you. He remembers the instant drop of your face whenever your father comes up, when the words duty and filial piety become a burden instead of pride on your shoulders.

"He just kinda stared at me and stopped talking. I think it didn't occur to him that this was a thought in my head. I cried a lot." You squeeze his hands back.

"Yeah, I'm glad you gave him a piece of your mind, though." His voice is gentle as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

"He cut me fruit after, so I think we're okay," you laugh awkwardly as you flash him a smile. "I think I'm okay."

He smiles too when he notices your smile is a lot freer now, that the corners of your lips are no longer locked in place and forced in front of fake pleasantries. Maybe he's freer now too, he thinks as he looks at the brightly lit skies, as he continues his volleyball journey, feeling so fulfilled despite being thousands of miles away from home.

"I used to think I wasn't good enough," he starts honestly with a small laugh. "No matter how hard I work, I could never be enough compared to geniuses who just get it."

“I used to think you were so put together when I initially met you, like the universe's spotlight was meant for you,” you hum. “Until I realized you were the reason why the volleyball gym keys were never returned on time.”

He laughs light-heartedly. “Hey, I had an image to keep up, okay?”

You tuck in your knees and prop your head on top of them, eyes never leaving his, hand still in his. “I think I realized you were a lot more reachable, human even, when I saw you broke down after losing to Karasuno our third year.”

“Are you deriving comfort in my pain? How rude!” He pouts. “But I somewhat get it. I used to think you were super snobby with your fake smiles and your super tight ponytail. I used to think you were going to be balding early!”

“You were the one who habitually had a hoard of fangirls around you, and nobody could get anyplace in the hallways!” You retort with a fond smile.

Memories of high school seem so long ago, and as you recall each one, you see the light in his eyes waning and waxing with the tides. The feelings you try so hard to bury, the ones you try to let go of the day he set off to Argentina bubble through your chest and flow onto your lips.

"I think I was too scared to love you," you finally whisper as the moon rises and the waves kiss the shore.

He stares at you and blinks once, twice, before he breathes a soft, “Oh.”

You finally take your eyes off him, hand finally wiggling its way out of his to encase yourself as you bury your face in your knees. “I wanted to be enough. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t for my dad, wasn’t for myself, wasn’t for you.”

He leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair off your face. “You are always enough. For your dad, for yourself,” he pauses and smiles gently, “And you are more than enough for me.”

You peek at him through your lashes. The ocean waves drown out the sound of your heartbeat as he stares at you earnestly, eyes honest and lips so, so close.

“I didn’t want you to regret me,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “I didn’t want to be someone who holds you back from your dreams. I didn’t want to be just temporary until you find your soulmate.”

His eyes widen, but he persists steadily close. “I don’t think I could ever regret you. My dreams will always be the national court, but you being there, by my side, would be the best part of it.”

He takes a breath as he reaches for your hand, much like he did at the rooftop of your high school.

“I was born without a soulmate mark. Initially, I was so upset because I thought no one would love me unconditionally like a soulmate is supposed to. But honestly, fuck that. Fuck soulmates. Fuck some pre-destined person supposedly made for you because no one is. We are in control of our own fate, and we are in control of whom we choose to love. And I like you Pres-chan. I have since I was eighteen and dumb. I still like you now at twenty and still a little dumb. But no matter how old I am, how old I will be, it’s always you. I will always choose to love you.”

You breathe in sharply as you listen to his words, every sound and syllable clear as his eyes as he looks at you, only you. There is only truth in his words, and as your eyes wander from his to his hand and back to his eyes, the overwhelming amount of sincerity overwhelms you.

Oikawa Tooru has always been dedicated in all that he does, and the thought that he is offering you that very same dedicated heart of his becomes a consuming warmth in your chest. The heat of your fluttering heart radiates off your cheeks, and the feeling that has been blossoming in your heart blooms into an indescribable softness and affection.

Love has perpetually been something out of reach, something you witness in movies and read in books, something you witness in your friends and cousin. But love is here now, in the form of Oikawa Tooru with his hands stretched out for you to take, with his heart bare and exposed for you to have.

“I was born without a soulmate mark too. I used to hate it because it felt like it was another thing I was lacking in. I wasn’t even enough to have a soulmate,” you breathe out, eyes on the ocean that reflects on the moonlight. The last bits of the tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve kept finally flows out.

“But if soulmates do exist, I would like to think they are made. Not in the sense that they are made for each other, because fuck destiny, but in the sense that we wake up every morning and choose who fits us and how they fit. And whatever this is we have between us, we forged it,” you start firmly as you place your hand in his, eyes meeting his. The last bit of bitterness flows into the sea, and the only thing that remains at the bottom of this jar is hope.

“I like you too, Oikawa. I have since I was eighteen and smart. I still do at twenty and moderately smarter but still trying to figure life out. And I don’t know what the future holds or even what I’m doing to do from here on, but I want it to be you.”

“I want it to be you too. I can’t promise you the world or where our lives will lead from here onwards. What I can promise is I will choose you, from the moment I wake up until the moment I sleep, from now until the end of the ocean.”

A promise, his truth. While the unknown horrifies you, this is enough. You smile as you squeeze his hand. When he grins and squeezes your hand back, you think maybe love is irrevocably here to stay.

---

“What were you before you met me?” He takes one of your hands in his and uses his other in an attempt to tame your unconstrained hair against the wind. He pouts when he finds that your hair just blows wildly and gives up, but he smiles, nonetheless, when he hears your unrestrained laughter.

You shake your hair out of your face and turn to face him, hair blowing wildly and freely with the wind. You tear your eyes away from slow waves of the ocean, illuminated by the brilliant reds and oranges of the setting sun, and you find yourself more captivated by glowing brown eyes than you ever could by the dazzling colors of the horizon.

You stare briefly at him, looking into his eyes and seeing his relentless soul, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like they did the very first time, feeling absolutely starstruck. You hum softly as you turn back to the peaceful waves and remember the tight ponytails and painted smiles of your high school days. You remember the weight on your shoulders to become someone ideal and the heaviness on your heart to become a you that only lives to make your father proud.

“I think... I was drowning,” you answer almost inaudibly but honestly, both hands gripping his tightly as if you’re holding a lifeline.

He pauses for a moment before he squeezes your hands again. He whispers then, reluctantly and almost fearfully, “And what are you now?”

You turn to meet his eyes. You recall him at seventeen and feeling annoyed because he mirrored every bit of the pretense you put up in all the undesirable ways. But you see him now, twenty and free of the inferiority and limitations he places on himself, and you wonder if you also look older, wiser, happier because you are now the you you want to be.

You have always associated him with air because he is terrible and unpredictable, destructive and clear, focused and silent. But he is also comforting and calm, like an invisible force, who's consistently going and going, with unhindered sight. He is always persistently here and cannot be turned away, and before long, you find yourself not knowing what to do without it.

At the moment, you find the last bits of the riptides that pull you under the waters finally cease, and as you enjoy the scent of the salty ocean and hear the lull of the gentle waves, you think you can finally breathe freely and vivaciously.

Slowly, you take a hand to trace the outline of the miniature matching sun tattooed on his chest, where the soulmate mark is supposed to appear. You smile undoubtedly and wholeheartedly.

“Water.”

---

you’re what i need cause now i can breathe; you put the beat in my heart. somehow we fit together, and now we’re unbreakable.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #oikawa fluff #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa toru x you #happy birthday to my mf grand king <3 #slightly late because tumblr was being dumb </3 #please give unbreakable from carole and tuesday a listen! :')#this has been sitting in my drafts since october lmfao pls take it before i hate it even more pain #sorry for the choppiness </3 #sometimes i write things #soulmates au series #text

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lazuli-bloom · 3 years ago

Text

Roses and Styx

Chapter 3 – Kids' Games To Pass The Time

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5,399

New day, new problems. Sure things aren't the worst they could be, but that new hire isn't making things all that easy at work.

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--=--=--

An annoying, rhythmic buzz cut through silence. Light seeped its way in, chasing away the shadows of sleep. You groaned and rolled. It was too early to face the new day.

Compounding your groggy state was the fact you didn't sleep for shit last night. The chilly October night sucked the warmth from your room, and you had only a few blankets to shield yourself from it. And the chill didn't stop your mind racing most of the night. When sleep came to you, it brought restless dreams.

The first wasn't terrible, just strange. A weird bug followed you home wanting to be friends. The other dream, however... A vile pit formed in your stomach.

Your thoughts drifted to the dream. You couldn't move. Arms, legs, head, nothing. You couldn't budge an inch no matter how hard you fought. Something wanted you to stay still. And it wasn't as if your surroundings gave you any clues either. Darkness blanketed the room. No details, just a barren inky void. The only thing you found with you was a set of pinprick lights.

A voice spoke. It whispered beautiful words coated in honey. Your guts twisted. A warm touch held your face, and the voice asked you a question. Your words caught in your throat. The entity glared at you with icy eyes, and the sweet words soured to a nasty venom.

You clutched your chest as the memory of searing heat replayed. It sank blazing claws into your waist and arm, blistering and cooking the flesh.

You drew in shaky breaths and wiped away the leftover tears. It was just a dream. It was just a bad dream. You're safe.

You took in one more breath before getting up to start your day.

Normally you would go straight to the bathroom, but you wanted to check something. You stepped out into the main living space and found it empty. A DVD case sat on the coffee table, but the TV screen was dark. The couch laid devoid of any unexpected house guests. No sign anyone else was ever there. Your heart sank as you realized the encounter you remembered was just another dream cooked up by your tired brain. A frown pulled at your lips and you sighed. No time to mope. You needed to get ready for work.

You opened the bathroom door and peered inside. Rigel napped on the top of the toilet's water tank, surrounded by shredded toilet paper. At least it was less of a mess than yesterday. You clean up the ribbons and tossed them in the garbage under the sink. After you topped off his food and water, you hopped in the shower.

The water in your apartment only ever got up to lukewarm on a good day. And that was not a good day. Frigged rain pelted you, giving you goosebumps. Not wanting to linger, you got out and dressed a few minutes later.

You combed your fingers through your hair as you looted the kitchen. Damn cat, why'd it have to throw up on your hairbrush? You grumbled to yourself and pulled out the off-brand cereal to fix breakfast.

"What 'cha doing, babes?" A voice from nowhere spoke in your ear.

Your knees buckle and you collapse, taking the bag of cereal with you. You gripped at your chest to still your heart, and rolled to sit with your back to the cabinets. A man in a rotting striped suit floated in your kitchen, clutching his rounder stomach as he cackled.

"Oh sweets, that's great! I wasn't even trying!"

As the shock fades, your features scrunched up. You got to your feet and tossed the bag on the counter. With crossed arms you pivot to glare at the ghost, still laughing his ass off.

"Giving me a heart attack first thing in the morning," you said with a huff, "I came out here and you were gone. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing, you jerk."

"So you're saying you missed me?" He batted his eyes at you, setting your cheeks on fire. You would not dignify that with a response. Instead, you turned back to the counter and fixed your breakfast.

"Where did you go then?" you asked and riffled through the silverware drawer for a spoon.

"I was checking on your neighbors. Did you know the guys a few doors down have a shit-ton of electronics?"

"Yeah, and old lady Smith has a garden in her closet."

"Really? Which one is she in? I didn't find that."

"She's on the third floor, but don't bug her too much. She's nice. Plus she bakes amazing cookies for me whenever I help her."

You scarfed your breakfast, and double checked you had everything done. Rigel was in the bathroom with his things. You had your wallet and phone. After you finished the last bite, you set the bowl in the sink along with the one from last night.

You rinsed out the bowl and hummed to yourself before you glanced over your shoulder to the ghost. He grinned at you with a tilt of his head. You gave him a small smile, only to frown.

"I have to head to work."

That simple sentence wiped the grin from his face. His shoulders sank, and the color of his hair shifted. A dull purple seeped in and overtook the green. That couldn't be a good sign. "You're leaving me here?"

"Well, you could stay here, or..."

"Or?"

"If you can be out of the way and let me focus on my work when I need to, then you could tag along with me. It’d be nice having someone other than my boss to talk to during the downtime."

His grin stretched across his face again, and he spun up to you, batting his eyes. "Oh babes, you do care! Of course I'll go with you! Not my idea for a first date, but I'll take it."

You pressed your lips tight. Was this a mistake? Not like you can take back the offer, though. That would crush him. You let out a long sigh and rubbed at your temple.

"Not a date, dude."

"If you say so," he purred.

You shook your head and grabbed the keys before heading to the car. The ghost trailed you, with an ever present chill at your side. On the way to the car, he pointed out each of the apartments and spilled whatever secrets he found out. You had an inkling of some of your neighbors' crimes, but you weren't one to go tattling. It was best to let them deal with their lives and you deal with yours. So you ended up nodding along to what the ghost told you.

When you got to your car, you sat behind the wheel for a moment. Once your ghostly friend floated into the passenger seat, you took in a breath.

"Okay. A few things before we get there," You said as you fought to start the car, "If either my boss or a customer comes up and needs to talk to me, I would appreciate it if you hang back for a minute and let me handle them. Otherwise, I mostly just front-face merchandise and I can talk with you so long as I'm quiet. Also, I take my lunches in the cemetery, so I can talk a bit more freely there."

"Sounds good to me, toots."

You rolled your eyes and got the hunk of junk started. The car protested with clangs, but you drove off with a little more of a fight. On the scenic drive to work he asked you to turn on the radio, which got a dry laugh from you.

"What's so funny?"

"Radio's broke. Most things in this car are broken. Radio, heater, a/c. All of them are broken."

"Can't you get a new one? There's cars all over the place, just take one."

"Th-this isn't Grand Theft Auto,"

"It will be once you take a car!"

"Okay, technically true. I meant this isn't the game GTA, this is real life. And I would get arrested."

"Not if you had help from the ghost with the most!"

You rolled your eyes and turned onto the main road, heading for work. The rest of the drive, the "ghost with the most" filled the air with his own voice, singing a medley of songs. Some of them you recognized, others you suspected he made up on the spot.

You pulled into the employee parking and parked your car alongside the two much nicer ones there. As you collected your things, Beetlejuice pointed to the sleek mustang.

"That car looks fun! We should steal a car like that!"

"I'm pretty sure that's Brandon's car. I'm not stealing my coworker's car to take for a joyride."

"But it would be so cool!"

"Maybe later," you said, stepping out of your junker.

The bell chimed as you entered the store and caught your boss's attention. He came over to greet you and made sure you were doing better. You gave a small laugh and rubbed at the back of your neck.

"Yeah, I'm doing better." You glanced sidelong to the ghost wandering over to the front counter.

"Good. Now hopefully I can focus on training Brandon without as many interruptions. He keeps breaking away to chat with every customer that comes into the store. So I need you to handle the customers so he doesn't have an excuse."

"Got it. And if you need help with him, I can always smack some sense into him. The new order of mallets is in the back, right?"

Mr. Turner laughed and turned to go back to teaching Brandon. You smiled to yourself and meandered over to the counter. Your ghost pal sat on the countertop next to the computer.

"You never mentioned you get to hit people at your job, any openings?"

"Sorry, spot's filled. For now, anyway. But who knows, maybe we'll need a replacement soon."

"Save it for me. I would kill to get to hang around a pretty little breather like you all day and get paid for it. But doing that for free is nice too."

"You're a shameless flirt."

"How can a sexy beast like me not be with you around and able to see me?"

You shook your head and glanced at the computer. There was something you wanted to look up, you were sure of it. But what was it? You stepped closer and opened a new tab for the search. It sat blank for a moment as you retraced what the topic could have been.

"What are ya doing, babes?"

"I can't remember what I wanted to search for."

"One hundred great ways to skin a cat?"

You raised a brow and frowned at him. "I'm not hurting Rigel." A light flicked on in your head.

You typed in the cat's name and clicked on the page for the star. A picture of the Orion constellation to the side of the page showed off the stars. Most of them had fancy looking letters next to them, with a few having numbers attached. Rigel marked the lower right star, while the upper left was the only other star with a word.

"Beh-tell? Goose? Wait..." You jerked your head over to the ghost, who wore a Cheshire grin. "That's how you spell your name?"

"Yep. That's me. Behtellgoose."

You read the name once more. Betelgeuse. Such a strange spelling to sound like beetle-juice. Kind of cool though. You smiled and closed out of the tab when an unfamiliar voice called out to you.

"Good morning, Art. Great to see you doing better!"

"Heh, yeah. Feeling better." You forced a tight-lipped smile to prevent yourself from frowning. Brandon stayed still with his own fake smile plastered on his face. After a beat of him not saying anything, you asked, "Do you need something?"

"You forgot to go grab your apron. What if a customer came in? That would look very unprofessional. Here, I'll watch the counter and you can go grab your apron."

The corner of your mouth twitched, and you took in a deep breath. You stepped away and grabbed your stupid apron. As you threw it on, the bell chimed. You rushed back out, hoping to catch the customer before Brandon.

The counter stood unattended and you found Brandon down one aisle with a woman discussing products. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Isn't that what your boss wanted you to stop him from doing?"

"Yes, Beetle, it is."

You hissed out a sigh and shook your head. As you walked over to them, you prepared yourself to speak in your chipper customer service voice. Brandon insisted he could take care of the customer, only for Mr. Turner to order him to get back to training. Brandon grimaced and stepped away to let you take over.

Your smile was easier to keep on your face after that. You helped the customer find what she needed and rang up her items. She left with a wave and you went back to the computer.

"What the hell is that guy's deal?" Betelgeuse asked, gesturing with a thumb to Brandon.

"I don't know. I don't know if I really care." You leaned back onto your heels and let your mind wander. Whenever you were alone, stuck at the counter, you always pulled up simple web games on the computer to pass the time. But with Betelgeuse there, you couldn't ignore him to play games.

"What are ya thinking about, sweets? How hot it would be to make out right now?"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "No, you flirt. I'm thinking of what we can do to pass the time. All I'm coming up with are twenty questions and I spy."

"I'm fine with that," he said as he flashed you a sharp grin. "Okay, I'll start. I spy with my rotten eye, something... metal."

"Well, that narrows it down."

The two of you spent the rest of the morning going, taking turns playing those silly kids' games. Betelgeuse huffed and whined whenever a customer, or worse, Brandon, pulled you away to help them. Any time you called him out on his grumbling, he denied it as the color in his hair shifted.

He caught you staring at his hair once or twice, which exacerbated the shifting colors. Each time that happened, Betelgeuse quickly picked up whichever game you two had been playing. You left the topic alone for the moment, but stashed it away to ask about later.

Halfway into a difficult game of twenty questions, Mr. Turner came up to the counter. You ignored Betelgeuse's smug punchable face and greeted your boss, hoping your frustration didn't bleed into your tone.

"Cass, I'm stepping out for a bit to pick up something. I should be back for you to take your lunch break. Keep an eye on the store and Brandon for me, while I'm gone, okay?"

"Got it. Burn down the place and leave no evidence. Can do."

He shook his head with a laugh. Mr. Turner said, "you turd," before he waved goodbye and left the shop.

"Ooh baby, I love you talking about crimes like that! Tell me how you'd light up the place."

You turned back to the ghost. He floated with his stomach parallel to the ground as he held his scruffy chin in his hands and swung his legs pointed upward. You laughed at the dork and smiled.

"Well, the kerosene is over there, and the rolls of rags are an aisle over. There's a blow torch with some of the other tools."

"Artemis!" You whipped your attention to the stick in the mud, frowning at you. You didn't even get the chance to speak. "That kind of talk is highly unprofessional! Going over ways to burn down the store, shame on you."

"I was joking dude, it's not—"

"Well, I don't find that funny. And you shouldn't address your elders as 'dude', it is very disrespectful."

"Alright, I'm sorry."

"Good. Now I need your help."

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Brandon motioned for you to follow him, and once he turned back, you brought two fingers to your temple and jerked your head away.

In the middle of a tedious and painful walkthrough of creating an order of paint, the bell rang. Brandon broke away the second it chimed and went straight to helping the customer. That was irritating enough, but after the regular said they didn't need any help, Brandon insisted on assisting them.

You took in a deep breath and let the man dig his own grave. If he doesn't value your help, then he's not getting it. You marched back to the counter and found Betelgeuse picking his teeth.

He licked a striped tongue over his sharp teeth then said, "What a douchebag."

"Tell me about it."

The customer came up to the counter a minute later, followed by Brandon. You greeted the regular and switched the computer over to its register display. Your new coworker nudged you aside and insisted on being the one to ring up the customer.

"Artemis, you should have stayed at the paint desk. I'll meet you back there in a minute, after I help this gentleman."

You wanted nothing more than to slap that man. Who the hell does he think he is? Calling you unprofessional and pulling stunts like that? You grit your teeth and forced a smile before excusing yourself to head back to the paint desk.

Betelgeuse floated after you and lounged on top of the desk. You spared him a glance, but stuck to pacing the small paint pit, waiting for that douche-canoe to get back there. The customer didn't even have a lot of things to buy, so it shouldn't take Brandon that long.

"That freaking jerk," you said under your breath, "I can't believe Mr. Turner hired a guy like that."

"Want me to kill him?"

"Tempting, but no. I'm just going to talk to my boss when he gets back." You checked your phone for the time. A quarter after one, which means only fifteen more minutes until your lunch break. "God, I hope he's here soon."

You tapped your nails against the metal top of the tint machine, the speed of which accelerated the longer you waited. What the hell was taking him so long? Did another customer show up? This was getting infuriating.

"You sure you don't want me to kill the guy?"

"No, Beetle, I don't want you to do that."

"Art, who are you talking to?"

You turned around to the voice. Brandon stood at the threshold of the paint pit with his hand on his hips and raised a brow at you. Your face burned as you laughed, attempting to cover up your embarrassment.

"Oh, just this annoying little beetle. It was crawling under the tint dispenser."

"Do you regularly talk to disgusting bugs?" he asked. You opened your mouth to speak, only for Brandon to keep talking. "It doesn't matter. You shouldn't act so childish. How old are you? Late teens?"

"No, Brandon, I'm closer to my thirties than my teens."

"And you're talking to bugs, where any customer can come up and see that behavior. You ought to grow up and act your age, Artemis."

The bell chimed again, and you shuffled to the side to get an unobstructed view of the front. Mr. Turner stepped in with a smile and a wave. You waved back and checked the clock on the computer. One twenty-seven, perfect. You pulled your apron's strings and took it off in a swift motion.

"Where do you think you're going, Artemis?"

"Lunch."

Brandon frowned, and you folded up your apron with a smile. He probably wanted to stop you from leaving, but that shit would not fly with the boss back. Betelgeuse hopped down from his spot on the counter and followed. You tossed your apron behind the front counter and greeted Mr. Turner. After a quick rundown of what had happened, you left for your break, with a quick stop to your car to grab your food.

On the walk to the cemetery, Betelgeuse mocked the stupid things Brandon said. He was dead on with his impression, too.

"Artemis, do you think I give a shit? I'm a giant douche with a stick up my ass! There's no fun allowed in the store."

You did your best to hold back your laughter, but that only caused you to snort. A laugh roared out next to you in Betelgeuse's voice. You covered your mouth with your free hand, but that couldn't stop your shoulders from bouncing. As the two of you crossed into the graveyard, you glanced sidelong at the ghost, who shot you a grin.

In the cemetery, devoid of any other visitors, you veered towards your usual spot, off in the corner and near the front gate. You sat on the stone bench, setting your lunch beside you. Betelgeuse, however, sat on a gravestone, with his feet propped up on the one next to it.

You opened up your small bag of chips and started snacking on them. Betelgeuse looked over from picking at his nails and raised a brow at you.

"That's all you're going to eat, babes?"

"I have a granola bar too."

You grabbed the other half of your lunch and showed him. He tilted his head with a frown, but said nothing. It grew quiet, save for your munching on the chips. Your mind wandered, and you zoned out, staring unfocused in a random direction. Betelgeuse moved, catching your eye, and you studied him.

He gnawed at his black nails with jagged yellow teeth. Stubble covered his round chin, matching the same green mixed in his hair. Has his stubble changed color like his hair has? And why did his hair change color to begin with?

You hummed to yourself after finishing the last of your chips.

"What's up, sweets?"

"I... was hoping to ask you something."

Betelgeuse tilted his head to the other side and raised a brow and pursed his lips. You gave a half smile and laughed. He looked like a curious puppy. How could this ghost-demon look so cute?

"What is it?"

"I've noticed that your hair isn't always green."

As soon as the sentence left your mouth, the color of his hair shifted to a deep purple. You shrank back as your stomach twisted into knots. Even without knowing what the colors meant, the frown on his face and sudden dodging of eye contact weren't good signs. On no. You messed up, didn't you? Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. Forget I ever mentioned it."

You dug your nails into your palms and turned your gaze to your knees. Betelgeuse produced a mix of a growl and a groan, and you peered up at him through your hair. His lips pulled into an almost smile as he kept sharp eyes pointed at his hands, where he raked his nails through the hair of one.

"I might as well tell you, you'd figure it out eventually. My hair changes color with my mood."

You dared to lift your head more. Your lips parted as your brain processed the new information.

"Like a chameleon?"

"Like what?"

He tilted his head and raised a brow as his nose wrinkled. You forced out a small laugh and smile as you wrung your wrists. "A chameleon, the little lizards that change color. It's to communicate their mood. Darker colors like black are when it's stressed, neutral tones are when it's calm, and vibrant greens, or reds can be excitement or aggression."

Betelgeuse lurched forward with a growl and ran his hands through his hair, shielding the deepening purple from view. Your stomach twisted into knots. This wasn't getting better. You parted your lips only to press them shut a second later. Why did you have to screw up and bring up his hair in the first place?

Your nails dug deeper into your palms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"If you're going to strip a guy naked like that, babes, you could at least buy me dinner first."

Your face wrinkled as you tilted your head at him. Betelgeuse still held himself curled and closed off, but he wore a weak crooked smile. Your lips twitched, and you huffed out a dry laugh.

"Alright, we can go through the drive thru to get a few things off the dollar menu."

"Ooh! I wanna try one of those green sludgy shake things from that Old MacDonald place."

"Sorry to break this to you, but they only sell those in March."

"What? That's lame!"

"Everything is pumpkin spice right now."

He pouted and crossed his arms with a huff. Despite the childish act, the purple in his hair faded back to a muted green. You chuckled to yourself as relief washed over you. With a soft smile, you grabbed the other half of your lunch and hummed before you opened it.

"Hey Beetle."

"Hmm?"

"I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to, but I wanted to say I think your chameleon hair is pretty cool. Like, is it magic? Or is it a demon thing? Or—sorry. I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it now. Sorry."

Your eyes darted to focus on your granola bar. You fumbled with tearing open the packaging for a second, only for the wrapper to give. The force sent your food tumbling to the ground. You stared at the broken bar and heaved out a sigh. Just wonderful.

Your pocket buzzed, veering your attention to it. You pulled out your phone and checked the caller id. Unknown number. Chills cascaded down as you stared at the phone.

"Something wrong, babes?"

"Nope. Everything's fine. Just some spam call."

You shoved it back into your pocket and let it ring. If the caller wanted anything, they can leave a voicemail. Besides, you needed to get back to work.

You picked up your trash and nodded your head to the gate. Betelgeuse hopped up and floated alongside you. After a few steps out of the cemetery, your phone rang again. Every fiber in you tensed up, but you left your phone in your pocket. The third time your phone rang, Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Who the hell keeps calling you?"

You shrugged and laughed despite your dry throat. "Who knows? I have to get back to work though."

With a hurried pace, you made it back to the store in a few minutes. The bell swung, chiming away as you beeline for your apron behind the counter. Brandon stood at the register with a phone up to his ear.

"There you are, Art! I've been calling you and you never once answered!" Brandon frowned at you and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. "You're obligated to pick up if I or Mr. Turner ever need to call you."

"O-oh, that was you calling." A small breath escapes passed your lips and you relax, only to register what he said. "Wait, how did you even get my number? I've only ever given this number to Sam and Mr. Turner."

"Why does it matter how I got your number? The issue is; if work calls you, especially if you have a shift that day, you need to answer."

"Fine, okay. I'll save your number so I don't panic again when I'm called three times in a row."

"Oh please, three phone calls make you panic? Artemis, you're an adult. You should know better than to be worried about something as simple as a phone call."

You grit your teeth and smiled. This conversation wasn't going anywhere you wanted, and you didn't plan on sticking around. You threw on your apron and marched to a far corner of the store to get away from everyone. Well, save for the ghost haunting you.

"Wow, babes, that guy is a major piece of work."

"Piece of shit is more like it."

You grabbed at products on the shelf and pulled them forward, turning the labels when needed. If you looked busy, maybe Brandon would mind his own fucking business. You clenched your jaw and growled as you brought more things forward.

"I shouldn't be worried about phone calls? What the fuck does he know? He's never had to put up with the shit I have!"

"And what shit would that be, babes?"

You glanced up to the ghost laying on his stomach across the top of the aisle shelving. Betelgeuse tilted his head. Soft and earnest curiosity graced his features. The corner of your mouth twitched before you closed your eyes and let out a hiss.

"I don't want to get into it," you said, keeping your voice quiet, "but I've had someone call me over and over before. It wasn't fun."

You pulled the rest of the items forward within arm's reach before sidestepping to get more. Betelgeuse floated after you as you inched down the aisle. He picked the games back up, and you welcomed the distraction.

There were one or two rounds of I spy, several goes at twenty questions—which you're positive Betelgeuse cheated and switched his topic multiple times. Towards the end of your shift, well after Brandon left for the day, you two asked a few "would you rather" questions. While he asked a few risque questions at the start—bite or be bitten, top or bottom—his questions took a tamer turn, similar to the ones you asked.

"Okay babe, would you rather find a rat in the kitchen or a roach in your bed?"

"I mean... I guess I'd prefer seeing another rat in the kitchen over finding more roaches?"

"M-more?"

"Donna hires her incompetent nephew to do the pest control for the apartments." You swept the line of dirt into the pan and tossed it into the trash. "Actually, speaking of, I should double check the traps and make sure something isn't rotting somewhere in the apartment."

Betelgeuse watched you finish the last of the closing routine. You clicked the pan back around the neck of the broom and stuffed it into a corner behind the counter. The only thing left was Mr. Turner to finish locking up the cash and heading out. You leaned against the counter and rolled your head back to look at the ceiling.

A quiet stillness overtook the store. It lasted a few seconds before Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Would you rather have a nicer place but the same landlady, or the same apartment with a nicer landlady—"

"Alright Cass, you ready to leave?"

You turned your attention from the unseen ghost to your boss. He smiled and gestured to the door. You returned a half smile before exiting. Mr. Turner locked up, and you waved goodbye. A minute later you sank into the car seat and rested your hands on the wheel.

"Well babes, this certainly seems familiar."

You glanced his way and rolled your eyes before getting the car started.

"Yep, it's been an entire day since a demon followed my home, like a lost puppy."

"I'm way cuter than any puppy. Plus, you can keep me in your apartment all you want and your shitty landlady can't do anything about it!"

"Nicer landlady, by the way," you said as the car sputtered to life.

"What?"

"I'd rather have a nicer landlady than a nicer place. Donna would just let a nicer place fall to ruin."

You pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. At the first red light, you tapped your finger on the wheel and hummed.

"Hey Beetle, would you rather stay in a comfortable and familiar place with people that don't believe half of what you say, or cut all contact with them and be alone if it meant freedom?"

Betelgeuse tilted his head from one side to the other, closing his eyes as he mulled over your question. As he thought, the light changed, and you continued on your way home. A sharp grin stretched across his face a moment later.

"Easy. I'd take my freedom."

Your lips twitched up. "Yeah... me too."

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing #fun fact. I kept miss spelling Brandon as Brandong when typing this

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touyasdoll · 4 years ago

Text

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

------------------

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

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masonscig · 3 years ago

Text

antidote

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.4k

warnings | mention of rook’s death and breaking her wrist when she was a kid, so you know. a little angst. some suggestive language towards the end!

author’s note | so this is my late entry for day one of warm in wayhaven, cooking – as usual when i’m writing these two i can’t shut up for the life of me

•─────────────────•

He wakes up from his first nap in a week to the smell of chicken.

There’s only one person in the entire warehouse that could be cooking at 2 in the morning without burning the place down.

He trods barefoot down the dark hallway, his sweatpants hung low off his hips.

Putting on pants was a formality, really. But he had roommates that’d have aneurysms over anything less, so he’s usually at least half clothed when he ventures outside of his room.

The smell gets a lot stronger, mixes with other scents the closer he gets.

Her heartbeat’s stronger in his ears, though, so he keeps going, despite the way his nose is crinkled and his fists are clenched.

When he makes his way to the kitchen, he stops at the doorway, perching his hip against the frame.

She’s pulled a chair up to the stove, chin balanced on her knees that are up against her chest.

Her eyes are glued to the big silver pot that sits there, steam leaking out from the ventilation tiny holes in the lid.

Her hair’s tossed up in a messy bun, and from the glimmer of light from the overhead light above the stove, he can see that a few strands are plastered to the back of her neck and forehead.

She reaches out to twist the knob all the way to the left, then struggles to pick the pot up.

Despite him not announcing himself, he’s next to her in a flash, moving the pot to the other burner in a flash.

“Oh, hey,” she murmurs distractedly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah.”

She nods, barely even giving him a second glance, grabbing the lid and placing it on the counter.

The steam threatens to curl higher and higher, but with a quick flip of a switch, the stove’s fan is pulling it into its vents.

There’s something definitely wrong with her – she’ll bake cupcakes for an elementary school bake sale at 2 a.m., but never soup. Who the fuck makes soup in the dead of night?

“I’m not an expert on human food by any means,” he starts, grimacing at the way the scent wafts towards him when she swirls the wooden spoon through the broth. “But why the hell are you making soup when it’s hot as fuck outside?”

She shrugs, dipping the spoon flat against the surface of the hot broth, filling it to the brim. “I was hungry.”

She brings it to her mouth, lips pursed, and blows on it, thin tendrils of steam floating towards him.

He’s still trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her when she sips it, a small tired smile blooming across her features.

The soft breathy hum that buzzes from her throat is low enough for both of them to hear, nearly matching the pitch of the whirring fan.

He doesn’t wanna press his luck with her, considering they're being civil.

It’d been a week since they were ambushed and she came face to face with her attempted kidnapper.

Things between Mason and Sofía were already… complicated, to say the least.

Different attitudes, different wants, different needs. He’d managed to fail in all three of those categories, disappointing her over and over without really trying to.

There was a certain level of avoidance from the both of them for the days following the ambushing. It’s not that he wanted to get her alone nor he did he care if she was avoiding him, but this was the first time he’d been alone with her all week, so he wasn’t going to actively try to fuck this up.

“That’s it?” he asked, keeping it simple.

She ignores him, instead flitting around the kitchen to grab a bowl and a spoon.

Well, she’d be amicable if she kept quiet – she wasn’t wrong with that one.

He watches as she fishes out sliced vegetables, an ear of corn, and chicken, then fills the bowl to the brim with broth.

Setting it on the table, she grabs a stained tortilla warmer from the microwave and scoots up to her bowl, digging in with one hand, a tortilla rolled in the other.

She’s still sweating under the heat, her chest glistening, the seams of her tattered tank damp underneath her armpits.

He sinks into the chair across from her, arms crossed.

“You gonna keep ignoring me?”

“Maybe,” she says from behind her hand (and around a mouthful of veggies).

“Tell me to leave, then, and I’ll go. Just say the word, sweetheart.”

He knows she won’t.

She lifts her eyes from the bowl to meet his own lazy gaze. Without saying another word, she dunks her rolled tortilla in the broth and takes a bite.

“That’s what I thought. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’re not that invested in my life outside of work, are you?” She challenges, mashing the back of her spoon against a vegetable until it’s smooth, scooping it up with a little broth and popping it into her mouth.

He shrugs. “I just know you’re lying, that’s all.”

“You lie all the time,” she counters immediately, pointing the tip of the spoon at him.

“When?” He knows she’s right, but she hasn’t brought it up since she stormed away from him outside of the warehouse, drenched and shivering.

“You lied at the bakery.”

Bingo.

He leans forward till his elbows are on the table, resting his chin on the back of his interlaced fingers.

“So that’s what you’re upset about.”

He’s a foot away from her, the temptation of closing the gap between them nearly tugging his shoulders forward.

Her face contorts into a grimace, bordering on disgust. “That’s not at the forefront of my mind, no.”

She swirls her spoon around the bowl, eyes following the movements of her wrist.

“I hate the summer. I always have.”

He stifles a wince as he leans back until his bare back presses against the cool plastic.

“Bad things always happen to me in the summer, you know? Dad died during the summer. Mom forgot to pick me up at science camp for a full twenty-four hours when I was 9, and I had to spend a whole day alone with no friends after everyone had gone home. That’s also the same summer she took her first month-long assignment.

“The next summer, they extended it from a month to a full summer. I broke my wrist on my neighbor’s trampoline, and she didn’t even visit me until my cast was getting sawed off.

“Bobby dumped me for the first time during the summer before he studied abroad so he could sleep with whoever he wanted.”

She shakes her head, dropping the spoon and tortilla.

“Sorry, I, uh, I’m just happier in the fall and winter,” she smiles apologetically.

“And that’s why you’re makin’ soup at 2 a.m.?” He asks, eyeing her warily.

“Yeah, kinda. It sounds stupid when you put it like that, really,” she giggles, scooting the bowl forward so she can rest her elbows there too, her chin in her hands.

A sigh escapes her, low and grim. “This dish is really special to me.”

He waits for her to continue, but she just sinks her teeth into her bottom lip instead, chewing nervously at the skin there.

He kicks his toe against her slipper clad foot, a gentle nudge to get her to speak.

He’s gotten pretty good at reassuring her without words, he thinks. Better than when they first met, that’s for damn sure.

“My favorite picture of my dad and I is one where I’m sitting at my high chair and I barely have two teeth in my mouth and my dad is feeding me mashed zucchini and yucca root. He’s laughing and smiling like he wouldn’t rather be doing anything else in the entire world than eating soup with his daughter.”

Mason stiffens at the mention of her father, and even worse so, feels remorse start to trickle into his bones.

It’s stupid to think he could’ve done anything. He pushes those thoughts to the side, recognizing the remaining scrappy morsels of humanity in him clawing its way to the surface. Impulse has always been the most human part of him – maybe she’s changing that.

He doesn’t really know who he was before this, but what he does know is any inkling of humanity he has surfaces when he’s with her.

Yeah, he can’t feel what it’s like to lose a parent, but watching Sofía tear up over bittersweet memories was enough on its own.

“Your dad cooked?”

“Yeah, from what I can remember, yeah. All of our old cookbooks are in his and my abuela’s handwriting.”

She looks like she wanted to say something more, so he leans back, arms across his chest, waiting.

“When I was in high school, I tried making it on my own and it was so shitty. I wanted to surprise Rebecca, because I knew she was getting back from a stressful work trip, and I couldn’t do it like he did. She didn’t even notice that I’d tried,” she sighs, picking up her spoon again to sip the broth.

She hums again, chews, swallows.

“I don’t know why I was so naive back then, you know? I thought I could chop a couple veggies and toss them into seasoned water and it’d turn out just like Dad made it.

“In reality, I didn’t even know what it tasted like. My mom described the taste to me once before, but she never cooked, so I just went off of what she told me. I romanticized the whole thing right down to making up the flavor in my own head.”

“That’s probably why I made the soup tonight. I miss when I was happy, but even then, what the fuck did that even look like to me? I’m just telling myself I was happy because I saw photos of me being happy, but I can’t recall that feeling by memory at all.”

She darts a hand under her eyes to rub it away before he notices, but he can see her eyes glistening.

“How am I homesick for a life that was never really great to begin with, you know?”

He leans forward, brows furrowed. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember. Fuck those old memories. Make new ones.”

He’s speaking from the heart now, compelled to say something before his mind can stop him.

Chuckling with a quick sniffle, she gets up to grab a drink from the fridge. “I know you mean well, but it’s hard when you’ve got an active bounty on your head.”

“Things will get better.” He’s not a beacon of positivity in the slightest, but she’s too good to be feeling this bad, so he has to say something.

“Things can get better.”

“What?”

“It’s not guaranteed. Not for me, at least. Probability’s never worked out in my favor,” she smiles weakly, unscrewing the cap to the water and sipping it politely.

“You’ve got a team making sure things will get better, sweetheart. No matter what.”

“You’re all here by force, though. After you leave, I’m still gonna be stuck here, and –”

She waves her free hand, the other one gripping the damp water bottle.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I’ll be less of a mess in the morning.”

“Not all of us,” he says, delayed, but hoping she gets it.

“Not all of us what?”

“Are here by force.”

She grips the bottle harder, the plastic crackling. She knows what he means now.

“That’s… uh, good to know,” she murmurs, a smile tugging at her features. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t do anything to warrant a thanks.”

She rolls her eyes, sitting back down at the table. “You’re gonna have to get used to my manners, Mason.”

“Never,” he smirks, leaning over the table, over the soup, running his thumb over her bottom lip before standing.

“You don’t like it because you don’t have any.”

He snorts, a hearty laugh ripping out of his vocal cords and echoing off the tile flooring. “Damn right.”

She smiles, too, this time though with her whole body. It’s dim in the kitchen, but she’s shining nonetheless.

The smell’s grown on him a little bit. The shit honestly reeks, but he doesn’t mind it.

He follows her when she makes her way to the cabinets underneath the countertops, retrieving a big glass bowl.

When she bends down, he tentatively steps behind her, leaving a hair’s width space between them. He’s hesitating to touch her, even as she glances back at him reassuringly and closes the gap between his stomach and her back.

The hum that leaves her this time as he hooks a lazy arm around her waist sounds just like the one she let out when she tasted the soup.

She gently guides his hands to grip the edges of the bowl while she pulls the pot closer.

“So what’s this shit called?” He asks, crinkling his nose as she ladles it in, grimacing when some splashes his hand.

He knows he’s there for something, but he can’t quite remember what for when she licks the stray drops from his thumb.

“Caldo de pollo,” she smiles, snapping the plastic top until it’s airtight, guiding him to the fridge.

He knows “pollo” is Spanish from the times Felix watched kids shows to pick up on English. (He could never quite shake the looping sound byte of Felix’s southern drawl saying “poy-yo” when he discovered Dora the Explorer.)

“You gotta make it for Nate sometime,” he suggests, wrapping his other arm around her waist when she closes the fridge door.

She turns in his grasp, splaying her hands on his bare chest, dragging her thumbs over the tuft of hair in the middle of it.

“Thank you, really,” she whispers, eyes trained on her moving hands. “I mean it.”

He’s shit at accepting thanks with words, so instead he kisses her. He fights the urge to deepen it, to open his mouth to taste her.

She’s not ready to let him in like that just yet. He thinks it’s enough that she’s letting him touch her at least.

The lingering taste of chicken is disgusting, but he’s enduring it, because Sofía’s humming like he’s the best thing she’s tasted in years.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc mason #twc detective #wayhavensummer #mason x sofía #detective sofía olmos #my fic

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justimajin · 4 years ago

Text

The Spontaneous Adoption

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (just a little)

Words: 8.6k

Summary: It’s no secret that you’re not particularly fond of children, always maintaining a distance from the little ones and the title of a parent remaining quite non-existential on your checklist. But when a sudden last minute opportunity presents itself and you’re committed to helping out a dear friend, you can only hope that you and your boyfriend are up for the challenge.

Warnings: pg13 rating, stressful times - Y/N and Jin start to go crazy at one point (with some hints of angst)

The apartment is ornate and spacious, an old brown leather couch resting in the far corner and opposite to the newly installed television set. It’s cozy and private, not a speck of dust nor loose hair in sight. A small cup rests on the side of the kitchen counter, brimming with freshly brewed coffee.

The door comes slamming open.

You spin around, pupils dilating and hand protectively hovering over the cup. There’s a woman standing at the door frame, dressed in a white blouse and a pencil skirt, her hand tightly wound around a briefcase and a jacket hanging off of her left elbow. Dark circles outline the outskirts of her orbs, a deep crease settling in between her brows and a fatigued expression masking her delicate features.

Her tense body straightens up and she raises her hands.

“Y/N!”

She immediately lunges for you, briefcase falling to the ground and arms wrapping around your torso. You abandoned the cup of coffee you were anticipating to drink, reciprocating with furrowed brows.

“Yeong Hee?” You lean back, breaking away from the hug, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Y/N.” She exhales like she’s just returned after being centuries away. Her hands raise in defense and a look of guilt etches onto her, “I’m so sorry for suddenly barging in like that.”

You nod, waiting for her to continue, “I-I just really wanted to see you‒if you’re not too busy?”

A small knowing smile curls on your lips, “Sit down. I’ll grab you some coffee to drink.”

Yeong Hee eagerly complies, flopping quite ungraciously on your couch as you rummage through your cabinets for an extra cup. She leans her head against the white pillow you just leave there in case of much needed mid-day naps, letting out a relieved sigh that has the corner of your mouth lifting.

Splitting the coffee you made into two cups, you sit down next to her on the couch, slipping a cup in her direction.

“So what brings you here?”

“Oh you know, just wanted to stop by and see how you’ve been doing.” She takes the cup, averting her eyes.

“Huh.” You acknowledge, “I’ve been doing great these days actually, nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good.” She glances around, as if inspecting your place. You raise an eyebrow at that, closely following her line of sight with suspicion.

She immediately whirls around, “You only have one bedroom in here, right?”

“Yeah…?” You ponder, waiting for her to add more details in. She resumes back to quietly sipping down on her coffee, the effects on caffeine seeming to lift her spirits up.

“Yeong Hee?” You cautiously ask. She peers up with intrigued eyes.

“Yes?”

“Did you have a fight with Namjoon recently?”

You straight up just asked it. No beating against the bush, no endless pondering until she reveals it, simply observe and assess the situation, then take your best crack at what’s really going on.

Yeong Hee goes dead silent.

You wonder if you potentially struck a nerve you weren’t supposed to, if the candid question wasn’t what she wanted to hear at the moment. Leaning closer, you bring your cup to your lips, your gaze not flattering away from her.

She instantly beams, surprising you a bit, “No, no! Namjoon has been lovely, Y/N!” A laugh escapes her at the mere suggestion.

“A-As always..…” Her light chuckles die down, gaze falling down to her cup.

“Yeong Hee.” You persist. Although you don’t know all the variables to the equation, you have an inkling that her sudden appearance at your apartment with a disheveled appearance isn’t just a mere coincidence.

You narrow your eyes, blurting out the question without a second thought. “Is it the baby?”

Yeong Hee looks up at you in absolute terror.

That definitely struck a nerve.

Before you can say anything to soothe your previous statement, Yeong Hee bursts out into tears. Her reaction throws you off completely and soon you’re scrambling around, trying to locate a tissue box for her.

“Here.” You hand her a tissue she gratefully accepts, rubbing a hand against her back, “Let it all out, it’s okay.”

“God Y/N, it’s a nightmare!” She wails, “I just don’t know what to do anymore!”

“What happened, Yeong Hee?” You press, needing some clarification.

“The baby, Y/N!” Yeong Hee whimpers, “She just cries so much, and for hours, on end!” Her mind runs astray, countless recollections emerging, “I can’t even remember the last time I got a decent night of rest! On top of that Namjoon just starts researching all these remedies to help out because he’s worried and then I’m worried and then the whole house is worried so the baby cries even more!” Her vision begins to fog with tears, and she covers her face with her hands, “I just can’t take it, Y/N!”

You envelope her in your arms, “Just to let you know, Namjoon does have the tendency to overact.”

She halts her crying to stare at you with wide eyes, “Right?! I tell him to just relax, but he’ll go on about how he’s a bad father because he can't get the baby to sleep when I’m not around!”

“It’s okay, Yeong Hee.” You ease, “This is your first child and it’s never easy taking care of a baby.”

“I know Y/N, I really do.” She confesses, wiping away any excess of water from her flushed face, “But I’ve never felt more stressed out in my life. My job, and then Namjoon, and then the baby,” Shaking her head, you wonder if there was ever a time you’ve seen her look so exhausted, “It’s just too much.”

At the mention of her husband again, you tilt your head, “When’s the last time you and Namjoon went out?”

Yeong Hee glances up in her spot, lost in contemplation.

“Probably during my pregnancy?” She replies as if asking you, “We used to go on small walks together, so I could get more exercise, but since then we’ve just been going to our separate jobs…”

“I would barely consider that a date.” You debate, pressing a finger against your lips. “It doesn’t sound like you guys have been spending that much time with each other.”

“I think you’re right.” Her bottom lip trembles and your eyes widen, “I-I guess this means I’m a bad wife now, too!”

She breaks into sobs and you wince, too high in hopes that she was alright and ready to talk it out. Her sobs become intenser and harsher as seconds fly by and you begin to contemplate if there’s anything you can do other than being a listening ear for her pain.

“What if....” Yeong Hee gazes at you with defeated eyes and you blurt out the words without a second thought, “What if I took care of her for a while?”

She blinks, “What do you mean?”

You sigh internally, wondering how you could be foolish enough to offer up the idea. Shaking that thought away, it seems now you don’t have a choice but to own up to your words.

“What if I took care of her? So that you and Namjoon could get a break and spend some time together, maybe even go on a date?”

Yeong Hee stares at you like you’re an angel that’s been sent down to heaven just for her, “You would do that, Y/N?”

You want to desperately turn back, “O-Of course.”

“That’s….wow, that would mean so much to me Y/N.” Her eyes grow wide, “Do you think you’ll be okay? If it seems too much, you don’t have to.”

You see the immense amount of relief flooding through her features, your sole suggestion bringing an array of hope you think Yeong Hee has desperately needed.

“It’s okay.” You persuade, “I can look after her for a week. You and Namjoon just promise me you’ll go out and worry about yourselves instead of the baby for once.”

Tears begin to well up in Yeong Hee’s eyes, and she launches herself at you, embracing you into a huge hug right away.

“Thank you Y/N! Thank you so much!”

You softly smile, happy that you were able to alleviate her troubles somehow.

Yeong Hee soon leaves after asking if she could cook you dinner one time for your offer, but you refuse and say that you don't want anything in return for this. A handful of thank you’s and gracious hugs on her behalf later, you close the door behind her as she rushes back home.

You spin around, slapping a hand against your stressed temples as a deep groan leaves your lips ‒ because there’s one crucial fact you’ve conveniently decided to leave out from Yeong Hee’s knowledge.

You’ve accepted to take care of her baby for a week, even after being aware of how much you despise kids.

***

You open the door to your apartment.

There’s a dark-haired man leaning against your door frame, his bangs sweeping across his forehead and arms crossed against his broad torso. A small smirk rests on his lips, pouty lips pulled into a sneaky grin that already informs you of what kind of remark he’s aching to spew.

“Did someone order an extra handsome boyfriend to come to their rescue?” He bats the eyelashes of his innocent orbs, his level of confidence instantly spiking up.

“Really?” You ponder, mimicking his innocence. Taking a glance outside of the door and behind him, you turn to him in confusion, “Where is he then?”

A loud scoff leaves Seokjin’s lips and you playfully chuckle, widening the door for him. He follows after you after shutting the door, peering around the place.

“So what was this emergency situation you were telling me about?” He inquires, appearing confused from how normal things seemed to be.

“That is the emergency situation.”

You point to the little bundle resting on your couch, her orbs round and taking in her surroundings with great curiosity. At the mere mention of who exactly is the emergency, Seokjin immediately forgets everything and dashes straight to her.

“A baby?!” He immediately picks her up, cooing strange noises that you assume is normal. However the baby responds within an instant, glancing up at Seokjin with similar wide curious eyes.

A soft smile tugs on your lips, well aware that you called in the right person to assist you with the job.

“Whose is she?” Seokjin asks, spinning around with her in his arms.

“Yeong Hee’s.” You mention, “I’m supposed to take care of her for the week so that her and Namjoon have the chance to relax and spend time together.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Yeona.” You pronounce, the baby immediately fiddling her arms around as if she heard you. The small gesture earns a lop-sided smile from you, but Seokjin turns to you in confusion.

“Wait, you willingly wanted to take care of her baby?”

You sigh, “I know what it sounds like but Yeong Hee seemed so stressed. I don’t think I’ve seen her be completely calm since the wedding.”

Seokjin hums, “I’m completely clueless about babies though, which is why I called you over.”

“Well, there’s not much to them,” He explains, “They just have three basics ‒ eating, sleeping and cleaning.”

You nod, placing a hand underneath your chin. Even though you’ve just revealed to him that you’ll need to take care of her, Jin doesn’t seem stressed nor rattled with the news, which in turn grants you a sense of relief for the abrupt responsibility you’ve taken upon yourself.

“Have you ever done this before?” You wonder, noticing how carefully he holds Yeona.

“Take care of a baby?” You nod, “One time, my older brother actually had a hard time with his first born so I would just check in on his kids every now and then.”

“But that was more looking after them than being responsible for them.” Jin quickly points out from your relieved expression with a nervous smile, “So I’m still clueless on a couple of things.”

“That’s okay, it can be a learning experience.” You offer, heading into the direction of your room. “For now, just keep an eye on her while I go google what babies eat.”

Jin raises his eyebrows, “Yeong Hee didn’t tell you?”

“More like I didn’t ask.” You meekly confess, “I have some bottles of milk in the fridge from her, but she said that they’ve been trying to feed Yeona solid foods.”

He looks as surprised as you, “Babies can eat solid food…?”

You glance over your shoulder at him with a knowing smile, “Right?” Shaking your head at the thought, you start typing in multiple searches into your search bar. You’re instantly bombarded with different types of food and multiple articles referencing different age groups. Your eyes roam around the screen, alarmed with the volume of links.

Jin peers over your shoulder, his and Yeona’s wide eyes sweeping over the screen.

“People really like talking about their kids, don’t they?”

“Apparently because every single kid is different.” You let out a long regretful exhale, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, “Looks like it’s time I actually do some of my own research.”

***

After spending loads of time trying to determine what is safe for Yeona to eat from the web, you and Jin ultimately decide that your bare fridge and devoid cabinets were probably not the best way to go about this.

Standing in an alley flooding with food, you glance around and spot Jin peering into one of the fridges with the trolley next to him. Yeona is in his arms, clearly distracted with her new surroundings as he gazes around.

Yeona for the most part, is an interesting child. She’s extremely calm and quiet aside from her natural curiosity, giving you hardcore suspicion as to if she was truly her mother’s child. She also clings to Jin non-stop, something you don’t really mind since it grants you some comfort that she’ll constantly be safe.

Walking up behind him, you steal a glance at the cool container, “Yogurt?”

Jin hums, “Didn’t you say she could eat small quantities of it?”

“Sort of.” You shrug, “Yeong Hee told me she’s roughly around nine months old now so maybe we should start off with the basics.” Scanning around the store, you attempt to locate the child friendly sections, “Like baby food and small snacks.”

“Not a bad idea.” He looks down at Yeona with a smile, who glances back at him in fascination, “Are you sure you don’t want to hold her?”

“Hm?” Your eyes fall onto Yeona, watching her curiously peer at you with even more fascination. She appears like any other baby would, with adorable squishy cheeks and hands the size of your one finger. The longer you stare at her, the more you can start to see the resemblance she has with her parents, her smile being on par with Namjoon’s dimpled one and her bright brown eyes reminding you of her mother’s when they perk up with excitement.

Nonetheless, a shiver runs down your back. “Nah….I’m good.”

Jin understandably nods, following you to the shelves aligned with various amounts of baby food. Skimming over the titles, you’re already wincing, pulling out one glass bottle filled with gooey amounts of dark green.

“Pea puree baby food?” You have to repress the urge to gag, “Why would they feed kids this?”

Jin takes the bottle from your hand, placing down Yeona to examine it, “Probably because they least expect it and it’s healthy for them.” He scrunches up his nose and hurriedly hands it back to you, “Still sounds pretty disgusting though.”

He laughs and you shake your head with a small grin. You start plucking out flavours that don’t sound as nearly as unappetizing and start handing them to Jin, who looks them over once before placing them into the cart.

“Okay, I think that should be enough for one week.” You let out a long sigh, overwhelmed with the new information being spewn at you. You’re about to tell Jin that you should look at some snacks for her as well, but your brows intensely contort once you catch sight of the trolley.

“Jin?”

“Yeah?” He’s looking at a pack of some garlic flavoured chips, a pout resting on his lips.

“Where’s the baby?”

His head snaps back at you, surprise emitting in his eyes. Then he spins around, his eyes becoming wider the more he realizes that the little human in the trolley has somehow gone missing.

You and Jin make instant eye contact, realization dipping within a flash before you’re hurriedly breaking apart and scavenging around to locate Yeona.

“She was just here a minute ago?!” You look between the two alleys, only garnering confused glances from nearby strangers.

“I could have sworn I put her in the trolley!” Jin professes, bumping into you halfway. An exhale leaves your lips, a hand running against your tensed temples.

You’ve only been with Yeong Hee’s baby for a day and you’ve already managed to lose her.

Great parenting, Y/N. 10 out of 10.

“Oh no.”

You whirl around at the sound of dismay Jin makes, coming straight into eye contact with Yeona.

On some lady’s leg.

“Oh my god.”

Jin rushes forward immediately, tugging the crawling baby up from the lady who seems at most confused from the sudden child’s appearance. He apologizes profusely to her, but she doesn’t seem to mind and tells him to just be careful next time.

“I had no idea she could crawl!” You whisper loudly to Jin, who is gasping from the earlier sprint he did at the sight of Yeong Hee’s child clinging to a stranger’s limb.

“Me neither.” He’s still panting so you offer up your arms to carry her, but Jin shakes his head.

“Just check out the food we have, so we can go back to your place.” He explains, “I don’t think it’s safe to have her here any longer after discovering how agile she is.”

You nod, a small smile on your lips as you grab your absent trolley. “Now that’s something she definitely shares with her mother.”

Jin sighs, “Let’s just hope she doesn’t share her father’s clumsiness.”

Your eyes widen, and he shares a knowing gaze with you.

***

Heading back to your apartment, you ultimately decide it would be best to take a shot at trying to feed Yeona for the first time. Propping her up onto a chair with a pillow, you grab a small spoon and a bottle of peach baby food.

You suck in a sharp inhale.

“You’re just feeding her Y/N.” Jin remarks in amusement, but the corner of your mouth twitches.

“After that little stunt in the grocery store, I’d better be careful.” Scooping up a mouthful with the spoon, you cautiously press it against her lips.

To your surprise, Yeona gobbles it up right away. You spin around and gawk at Jin, who shares your look of astonishment as she begins to flail her arms around, anticipating for more.

“Well that worked a lot better than I could have imagined.” Jin admits, so you try once again with more this time around. Yeona repeats the same action, her wide eyes following the motion of the spoon that lingers in front of her.

“Yeah…” You whisper surprised, repeating the action again. However this time you flinch when Yeona grabs onto the spoon in your hands, tossing it onto the ground and letting the bright orange splatter all over the ground.

A groan escapes you and you slump down onto the ground defeated, trying to clean up the mess. Jin gestures for you to keep feeding Yeona and that he’ll take care of it, but your next several attempts prove to be utterly futile.

Yeona flings the spoon the second time, but with a loud giggle coming from her lips. She then manages to grasp the bottle from your hands the third time, attempting to lick out the contents and getting them smeared all over her cheeks. When you try to clean up, she grabs onto the spoon you were holding and launches it straight for Jin’s head.

The latter manages to duck in time, but he presses a hand against his heart and stares at the child completely shocked.

“Is she trying to kill me?!”

You snort, but Yeona tries to grab the bottle again and you hurriedly swoop it up before she has the chance.

“I think eating is the last thing on her mind right now.”

“Here.” Jin advances forward, reaching his hands out, “Let me try.”

You hand the bottle to him and take a step back, hoping his actions will help things somehow. Although Yeona avoids the spoon whenever Jin tries to feed her, he manages to get successful by feeding her a large spoonful, something that has a smile of relief etching onto your features.

He subtly coughs over his shoulder and mumbles ‘Leave it all up to the handsome person in the room’. You roll your eyes with a lop-sided smile, expression softening when Yeona finally begins to eat like you had hoped.

It doesn’t last very long.

You’re suddenly back to square one when she starts avoiding the food again, but at this point she doesn’t try to grab it or spill something onto the ground for her own joy. She appears pale, delicate features twisting up and lips forming a pout.

You instantly reach out as Jin continues to try, “Wait Jin‒”

You’re too late.

Yeona opens her mouth and out comes something you wish had managed to stay in. Jin immediately staggers back, luckily not getting caught up in the array of spilled contents all over the ground.

“How did she….!?” Jin whirls around in disbelief, “We didn’t even feed her that much!”

You pinch your brows together, “I think I read something on the net about kids having weaker stomachs. It takes longer for them to digest food on average.”

“But what do we do now? She’s barely eaten!”

“I guess wait it out?” You suggest, suddenly realizing that Jin appears just as stressed out as you. Before you even have the chance to say something comforting, Yeona lets out a small sound.

It’s similar to a grunt, and you swivel to see her bottom lip starting to quiver. Your eyes instantly enlarge and soon there’s water welling up in her eyes, loud cries flooding into every room of your apartment.

“She’s crying?!” You exclaim, not quite understanding that the combination of her sudden regurgitation plus you and Jin being stressed had welcomed an uncomfortable atmosphere for her. The problem with this situation though, is the fact that you and Jin are clueless as ever and scrambling to do something to calm her down.

Jin staggers in front of her chair right away, flailing his arms around and making silly pouty faces at the baby. He manages to capture the young girl’s attention with some of them, drawing out her innate curiosity from her wet eyes with his cute expressions.

You’re baffled by his sudden range of expressions you had no idea he could pull, but then he brings out the iconic ‘peek a boo’ faces and there’s no possible way you can keep down your laughter.

“Hey, it works with my brother’s kid!” Jin protests in retaliation, but Yeona’s interest is broken with his voice and her cries only escalate in volume.

While Jin continues to bombard her with more ludicrous faces, an idea surfaces to your mind and you strut over to your fridge, fishing around for the bottles of milk Yeong Hee left you. You grasp onto one and locate the warmer she thankfully left behind, heating it up within minutes.

Since Yeong Hee said her and Namjoon have been trying to get Yeona to eat solid foods, your natural assumption is that she dislikes them and that trying to adapt to a new habit is as challenging for a baby as it is to an adult.

The bottle finishes heating up and you hurriedly dash over to Jin, who looks like he’s dangling between the fine line of exhaustion and completely losing it. His eyes spark up at the bottle’s appearance, and he uncaps the top right away, testing it on his palm.

“Oh.” Your eyes light up in recognition, having forgotten the last crucial step Yeong Hee had taught you before leaving. Jin places the bottles against Yeona’s lips, and she gladly accepts, cries subsided and her eyes become drained.

You and Jin let out a simultaneous sigh.

Luckily, Yeona finally calms down. Her bright eyes stay to lull with time and her hands start to droop down from the bottle, so Jin takes the opportunity to put her down on the cradle in your room. He eventually returns after a moment, slumping down onto the couch next to your sagging self.

In a short and sweet way of saying it, both of you are utterly exhausted. It seems that every decision you need to make has to have careful consideration and some form of prior knowledge, two areas that you have absolutely no control over and are greatly lacking.

“Maybe this is what it’s like being a parent.” Jin remarks, “I don’t think I ever used to see my brother or his wife properly relax since having their kid.”

“Damn, you’re right.” You muse. It all makes sense now, why Yeong Hee always appears so battered and fatigued, why so many of your conversations would derail about how her child was doing and more so, to how she was doing. You didn’t give it much thought before at the time, but it seems like your time with Yeona is going to greatly change all of that.

***

After some constant pestering and encouragement, you convince Jin that sleeping on the couch for the night wasn’t a good idea for getting proper rest. Truthfully, you find that he’s extremely drained like you, not one of his familiar dad jokes surfacing up when he watches Yeona in her cradle with tired eyes.

You collapse onto the bed with him, eyes fluttering shut and mind begging for sleep.

A sharp cry breaks through the silence of the night.

Your eyes instantly wench open and you spring up, startled to the core from the sound. Your clouded vision looks around until you can locate your clock, the numbers 3:04 am being a friendly reminder of what stage of REM sleep you must have entered. Taking a deep sigh, you pull back your deranged hair and try to shuffle out of the bed.

A hand stops you, “W-What happened?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just Yeona,” You remind him, “Go back to sleep, I’ll take care of her.”

Jin mumbles what you assume to be a low thanks and you get out of the bed completely, peering down into the cradle. Tears stream down Yeona’s eyes and her cries are oddly high in frequency, making you lean down and slowly pick up.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if you're holding her properly as your arms stick out in front of you, but you know that you need to calm her down as soon as possible and not ruining any of your boyfriend’s sleep in the process is probably preferred.

Setting her down carefully on your couch, you attempt to figure out what’s wrong.

“Did you have trouble sleeping?” You whisper, as if Yeona can understand you, “Are you hungry again?”

She continues to cry and your frustration increases as you fist your hair into bundles. You are so, so tired and nearly on the verge of falling asleep on the ground that your brain has no clue how to process what she needs properly.

That’s when you catch a scent of a new smell wafting through the air.

Instantly, you snap up and dash into your room, grabbing onto the bag Yeong Hee had given you. You rip it open within seconds, hands searching around until they come into contact with a feathery cotton material.

Your mouth puckers as you twist and turn the diaper around, squinting your eyes through the dark. Taking a second look inside the bag, you search around for a manual or anything Yeong Hee could have left behind in exchange for figuring out how to work the straps around. You decide ultimately that taking your best shot at it would be the way around and you orient the material around Yeona, tossing her old diaper out for the one in your hands.

It takes about ten minutes for you to finally get it on and ensure it won’t come off, but in that duration Yeona cries have spiked up, ringing through your ears as the tears wouldn’t stop pouring out from her tender eyes. You eventually have to let out a deep exhale once she calms down, rubbing your sore eyes before heading back to your room.

Once you reach your bed, you collapse down, exhausted beyond belief.

***

You’re woken to the scent to the scent of pancakes and eggs the next morning. Hauling yourself up the bed, you’re greeted by Yeona and Jin in the kitchen together, the latter holding the baby and attempting his best to feed her.

Plopping down onto a chair, you muse about the dark circles underneath his eyes, “Looks like someone got off on the wrong side of the bed.”

Jin cracks out an amused smile, “I’m surprised you think I’m the only one.”

It’s not too soon when a yawn passes by your lips, serving as a reminder of the eventful night the three of you ended up sharing. After you had changed Yeona and fallen asleep with the hope of getting some shut eye, the mayhem had only begun two hours later. Jin had gotten up this time and tried his best to calm Yeona down, but her cries could be heard through the apartment and kept you wide awake. Luckily he returned once you were about to get up to offer some help, but the moment he fell asleep with you, the vicious cycle continued once again.

More crying. More not knowing what to do. More loss of sleep.

You and Jin had tried your best to alternate as much as you could, but your efforts ultimately didn’t end up paying off when you had both woken up this morning still looking like zombies.

Letting out a sigh from the ill recollection, one of your eyebrows perks up once you smell the air.

“Hey, Jin.” You ponder, watching him look up at you after successfully feeding Yeona a spoon.

“Hm?”

You sniff the air again, this time eyes widening, “Is something burning?”

Jin instantly whirls around, long forgotten those crucial moments he was trying to feed Yeona and heads straight for the stove. You peer behind him when he groans, the lovely view of burnt pancakes and eggs greeting your eyes immediately.

He pouts, “That was supposed to be our breakfast….”

You take another glance at the pot and wince. “How about you just take care of Yeona for now and I’ll make something for us.”

He dumps the contents into the garbage, attempting to scrap one burnt piece of egg off the pan. He lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping down in defeat as he decides to just let the pan sit in water for a while.

His eyes suddenly perk up and he whirls around.

“What if we just went outside and got some fresh air?”

***

At Jin’s suggestion, you decide to have a picnic. You were at first wary with the idea, unsure if you were really in the mood for going to the park after a horrendous day and sleep-deprived night, but he manages to convince you that the activity will be beneficial for all three of you, especially Yeona.

Which is why you’re currently sitting on a red and white checkered blanket and leaning against a tree while watching Jin dress up Yeona in a baby flower sun hat.

“There we go!” He turns to you in excitement, “What do you think? Doesn’t she look cute?”

You don’t get a chance to offer an opinion because the hat slips off and Yeona continues to gaze around as if she hadn’t just knocked off five minutes of precious hard work from Jin. He attempts to get it back onto her again, but it continues to fall off.

“It did look nice before it fell off her head.” You agree to comfort him, but he manages to get it right this time, and he turns to you with the same look of excitement (with an addition of bags underneath his eyes).

“Ta-dah! Protected from the sun and looks like an adorable angel!” Jin’s enthusiasm draws a smile from you and Yeona seems to reciprocate, wiggling her arms and staring at him with fascinated pupils.

You enjoy the light breeze as Jin plays around with Yeona, but her eyes soon begin to flutter close and before you know it, she’s falling asleep in his arms. Both of you decide it would be best if she could get some sleep, but after an hour of no response from her, Jin starts to grow dismayed.

You snort, “We went out for her, but she completely ko’ed on us.”

“I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.” He stares at Yeona in high hopes, but you wave him off.

“She’s probably as tired as us from yesterday.” You lean over to grab a packed sandwich, unwrapping it from the plastic. Letting out a long sigh, you catch Jin’s attention, “How did Yeong Hee even manage to do all this…?”

He cranes his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

You gesture to Yeona, “This. Taking care of a baby and trying to enjoy her marriage at the same time.” You shrug, “It just seems like so much work to me.”

Jin knowing laughs, “I’m assuming this is probably not helping you with wanting kids, right?”

“Far from it, actually.”

He narrows his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

You hum, “Why did you even agree to this? You’ve hated kids longer than I can remember.”

“Well, Yeong Hee sounded like her and Namjoon haven’t had the chance to relax.” You explain, “I wanted her to be happy.”

Jin nods, like that much he had already guessed. However, you go on to continue, “And well…. I’m the godmother.”

His eyes widen and your gaze falls onto Yeona, still sleeping in his arms, “I figured I should at least get to know her properly, and since Yeong Hee gave me this responsibility, then I should be able to take care of her when Yeong Hee’s having a hard time.”

“But things definitely didn’t go the way I expected.” You reminisce, “I didn’t realize there was so much to it and how devoted you have to be.”

“I agree with you on that.” Jin acknowledges, letting out a small chuckle as if the past couple of incidents had really sent him down a whirlwind. After spending some time in the park with Yeona snoozing away, you and Jin eventually end up heading back with only one single thought in mind.

How are you going to do this for a week?

***

Within moments of returning to your apartment, you are pooped. This results in you spending the rest of the evening with Jin in a dire attempt to bring some normalcy from constantly running around yesterday, but you still find yourself considerably paranoid as you consistently check in on Yeona to make sure she’s okay. Jin does so as well, but eventually night falls and you know the two of you are extremely desperate for a long night’s rest.

“Y/N.” Jin whispers, shaking your shoulder, “Y/N.”

“Mhm?” You incoherently mumble, peering through your squinted eyes to gaze at his face. Jin lets out a sigh, shaking your form once more.

“Y/N, wake up. You fell asleep on the couch.”

You wave him off, finding too much comfort in the pillow you’ve managed to snatch up from the sofa, “It’s fine, just leave me here.”

He chuckles, but he suddenly presses his hand against your back and under your legs, lifting you up in an instant. You jolt immediately, scrambling to grab support onto something, before finding purchase in securing your arms around his neck. It’s a bit ironic as he carries you to your bedroom, since you’re probably the last person who needs to be babied in the apartment.

Plopping you down on the mattress, the tiredness in your bones immediately seeps away and you flutter your eyelids close, sleep grabbing a hold of you in an instant. You can feel the other end of the bed dip for a moment and assume Jin has decided to call it a day after settling Yeona down to sleep.

The comforting silence in your apartment lulls you until you plunge into a deep sleep.

***

A sharp cry breaks through the walls.

You jolt in your sleep, drooping eyes cracked with red being wide open and frozen in your position. Another cry resonates through the room, but this time it grows quieter and you mentally pray that it was a mere spur of the moment, nothing more to drag you away from the sweet remains of sleep your body is begging for.

It’s accompanied by several other acute cries.

With a low groan, you roll out of the bed, not even bothering to glance at Jin who’s busy snoring away in his own dreamland. Hovering over the cradle, you quickly inspect Yeona, calmly hushing her as to not wake the only person in the room that’s still asleep. Noticing that she didn’t need to be changed, you head over to the kitchen swiftly and grab a bottle from the fridge.

After heating the bottle to the right temperature and placing a portion of it on the base of your palm, you rush back to her and place it at her bottom lip. Yeona turns away from you, her cries increasing in intensity.

Frowning, you try again only for her to completely roll away from you this time, ultimately reasoning that she doesn’t want to be fed. You attempt to pull up the blanket Jin had placed on her, but she continues to sway around giving absolutely no response to your actions and persistently crying.

You’re beginning to grow desperate. It isn’t her diaper, she’s not hungry, and she’s not cold. That means you have the only choice to resort to a different means of matter.

Widening your eyes, you pinch your cheeks and spread them apart, pushing your tongue out. You know you’ve called Jin out about it already, but at this point you need to stop the insufferable cries flooding your apartment by the minute.

Yeona doesn’t even notice.

Thick tears are continuing to roll down her cheeks, eyes remaining glossed over. A patch of hair is fisted within your palm, knees bending down in exasperation when your brain is losing its function more as time passes and you don’t understand what she needs.

A warm hand places itself on your shoulder, causing you to swirl around with misery leaking into your eyes.

“Sorry for waking you.” You admit, having the false hope that you could’ve at least figured this out on your own. Jin shakes his head, clearly just as tired as you.

“We’re in this together.” He comfortingly says, stepping up to glance at Yeona, “Have you tried checking her?”

You nod, “I’ve checked her, tried feeding her and tried to cover her.” A long sigh leaves your lips, “I even pulled out a silly face too.”

Jin spins around, gazing at you in surprise, “Really?”

You solemnly sigh again, “Really.”

“Well, let’s see…” Jin hovers over her cradle, attempting to calm her down by making cute noises and widening his eyes. You plant yourself against the wall, shoulders slumping down further into defeat as Yeona’s cries seem to only increase in intensity. There’s a certain wail that gets to you, snapping your fine control of patience after having another decent night of rest snatched away from your clutches.

“What’s wrong?” You plead, questioning the crying baby as if she can answer you. “Just tell me, give me a signal, anything.” Voice slightly cracking and eyes glossing over, you wonder how long it’s going to be until you join her in her crying fit. “What do you need, Yeona??”

“Y/N...” Jin immediately tries to intervene, understanding your frustration. He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to get you to back away. “You need to calm down, we can’t figure this out if you keep asking her questions like that.”

“But I am calm!” Although your words suggest it, Jin already knows the sleep deprivation is beginning to take its toll. At the sound of both of your tones, Yeona bursts into more tears, startling you. “Oh no, Yeona…”

You drop your voice down into a soothing one, abruptly plucking the baby up from her cradle in a dire attempt. Even though her high-pitched sobs threaten to make your ears bleed from the proximity, Yeona soon lets out a quiet hiccup much to your own surprise.

You can only stare at Jin with a dropped jaw as Yeona settles her head against your shoulder, her small hands tightly fisting onto the material of your shirt. She sniffles a couple more times and squirms around a bit, but it’s right before she finally settles down and welcomes sleep in your arms.

The apartment falls into a comfortable silence after a period of absolute chaos, the baby in your arms appearing more content than you have ever seen her.

“Way to go, Y/N!” Jin cheers, peering at Yeona over your shoulder.

“T-Thanks…” You mumble half-heartedly, taking occasional glances to confirm Yeona was still asleep on you. You attempt to rock her back and forth, eyes widening when a small yawn slips by her lips, and she nestles in closer to you.

Unconsciously, a soft smile makes its way to your lips.

***

“Morning.” You walk behind Jin into the kitchen, rummaging around the fridge for something to eat. Yeona is in his arms, bright eyes glancing around in contrast to yesterday’s sudden storm.

“Morning.” Jin replies with a smile, tiling his head to the side, “You seem well rested.”

You smirk, “For once.” Walking over to him, you lean down to poke Yeona’s cheek, “But this one appears to missing her mom more than I thought.”

“Hopefully her and Namjoon got to enjoy their mini vacation.” Jin exhales, carefully pushing Yeona up in his arms when she begins to slip. “They became parents a little fast, don’t you think?”

You shrug, “Yeong Hee was pretty excited to start a family of her own, but I don’t think she was completely ready to have kids after she found out she was pregnant at their honeymoon.” A long exhale passes by you, a crease forming between your brows, “You know, I did say that her and Namjoon should seriously consider their options before having kids.”

Jin playfully smiles, “Are you sure that wasn’t just you warning your friend about the woes of having children?”

“That’s‒…” You pout and Jin’s smile widens, knowing that he got you with that point. “You know what I mean, they should have waited it out before deciding to create a miniature version of themselves,” You scrunch up your nose, “One that at least didn’t make them want to cry with her.”

Jin hums in agreement but a giggle breaks through your silence. Your eyes warily glance down, only to see Yeona peering at the two of you with a giant smile on her lips.

“Did she just laugh?” You question as Yeona brightly gazes at you.

“Maybe she agrees with you.” Jin offers, but you shake your head.

“I’m literally scolding her parents!” You lean closer, placing your hands on your knees and narrowing your eyes, “Did you know your mom set me up on a blind date once and the guy never showed up in the end?”

Yeona giggles again, this time clapping her hands together and you’re astounded, a smile working its way onto your lips.

“Hey, you have me now!” Jin pouts, making you snort.

“I don’t know what’s cuter, her laughing at my complaints with her mother or you getting offended from one blind date that never showed up, might I mention again!” You raise a finger at him in protest.

“Yeong Hee just wanted you to be happy too, that’s why she forced you to go on a date with me, remember?”

“Right, because she knew you were going to be her daughter’s future babysitter.” You sarcastically retort, leaning closer to Yeona. “Your mother’s kind of weird in some ways but I guess I snagged a real catch, huh?”

Yeona giggles again and you tenderly smile, affectionately poking her cheek. Jin on the other hand, is already smiling simply from watching you interact.

“Oh! If you’re responding to my complaints, I should try something.” You stand right in front of her, looking at the baby dead serious in the eyes, “I don’t really like kids.”

Something overcomes the baby, and she starts erratically waving her arms, like she wanted to be closer to you. Jin raises an eyebrow, cautiously lifting her closer to you as if he was giving you the chance to refuse. A small smile works on your lips and you hold onto her, watching her grow comfortable in your embrace.

You look up at Jin and he smiles at you, ecstasy on his features.

You suppose having Yeona around for a week wouldn’t be so bad.

***

Despite the fact that you didn’t know what to expect for the rest of the week in regards to Yeona, you’re surprised to find that time flies by faster than you know it and the pending day of her return is soon looming over you.

The past couple of days haven’t been much of a whirlwind. You and Jin found that you had started becoming used to the little bundle’s presence often and even possessed sense at times that you didn’t know existed there in the first place. Whether it was knowing when to feed Yeona and change her, to moments in the night where you found yourself automatically waking up to check in despite losing time on your clock for sleep. In many ways, her existence surprises you greatly, as you never knew that you could come so close to being this attentive after proclaiming your natural despise towards the little ones.

Regardless, all good things eventually have to come to an end and it’s a fact you have to inevitably accept when Yeong Hee is showing up at your doorstep once again, but this time with a warm smile on her face.

“Y/N!”

She immediately embraces you into a bear hug, something she hasn’t done in years. You’re puzzled by the action for a moment, frozen in place until you ultimately reciprocate and give her a smile.

“Nice to see you so cheery, Yeong Hee.”

She separates from you with a grateful look, “It was all thanks to you Y/N, you have no idea how much me and Namjoon needed this!”

You chuckle, “Believe me, I do.”

Yeong Hee glances around the apartment, her curious eyes inspecting around.

“Where is my little Yeona?”

You smile, pointing over to the couch where Jin is. He had ironically fallen asleep while rocking Yeona to sleep, so you decided it would be best not to disturb the two.

Yeong Hee plants her palms against her cheeks, hearts practically steaming from her eyes.

“Aw!” She slowly steps closer, a radiant smile on her lips. “That’s so cute.”

You hum in agreement and Yeong Hee spins around, shifting closer to you. “I know you didn’t want to have kids anytime soon, but…”

She points over to Yeona and Jin together with a soft smile, “If that man is able to bond with our child, then I think he’s definitely ready for anything coming his way.”

You chuckle at that, recalling how catastrophic both of you initially were around Yeona and freaking about the smallest of things that more parents would have found normal. However, that’s when you remember how things were once you’ve become familiar around her, your actions automatically reflecting her needs when you were just confused a couple of days ago.

Along with that, Yeona herself had seemed to take a particular liking to you.

“I know that’s what I said in the past, but I dunno.” You shrug, “Kids aren’t so bad.”

Yeong Hee immediately whirls around, gaping at you shell shocked. You raise an eyebrow at her blatant staring, only for her to murmur a sentence that has you laughing on the inside.

“Does this mean...my angel convinced you otherwise?”

“Oh she’s nothing but an angel,” You openly admit, pressing a finger to your lips, “She’s a lot more like her mom now I think about it.”

Yeong Hee laughs at that and you smile, your attention being drawn away when you notice Jin rising from your couch.

“Oh Seokjin!” Yeong Hee exclaims, “It's great to see you again!”

“Same to you.” Jin warmly smiles, before placing the now awake baby in her mother’s arms. Yeona’s eyes are open but she seems puzzled, as if confused as to what was going on.

“Hey Yeonie~ It’s mom!” Yeong Hee coos and Yeona’s eyes are still tracing over her features. You peer over her shoulder, a remark instinctively making its way to your lips.

“Maybe she just hasn’t seen you so relaxed instead of stressed out for once.”

Yeong Hee frowns at you, but Yeona lets out a loud giggle. Yeong Hee stares at the baby in her arms baffled, whirling around to face you.

“You made her laugh!” You smile, nodding, “I’m impressed, Y/N!”

An embarrassed chuckle leaves you, “I guess she I’m not as bad as I thought around kids.”

“Well, I think you did an excellent job.” Yeong Hee envelopes you into a giant hug, a smile reappearing on your lips when Yeona giggles again.

Yeong Hee says goodbye and eventually departs contently, leaving you and Jin alone together in the apartment.

He nudges your shoulder, “Hey, I heard you guys talking.”

You turn around to face him, and he sways back and forth, eyes gleaming, “Do you think...maybe not now, but in the future,” He quickly clarifies, “The idea of having kids isn’t too far…?”

A soft smile makes its way to your lips, “It isn’t.” Jin immediately perks up, a giant smile breaking onto his features.

“But.” You wave a finger at him, stopping him in his tracks, “After taking care of Yeona this past week, I definitely need some off time before considering the idea.”

“Oh, I’m so with you on that.” Jin exhales, “Let’s think about it when we’re actually ready.”

You warmly smile, “Deal.”

175 notes · View notes

echoghost1 · 4 years ago

Text

The Baldr to My Odin

Word Count: 2300

For: @sailor-toni

Summary: Pariah has recently acquired a son and wants to get to know him better. This is a sequel to Fool's Errand!

You can read it on AO3 or down below the cut

Pariah leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and watched him sleep. After all the things that had happened in his afterlife, he never expected to find himself in this situation.

Never in all his wildest dreams, and he had his fair share during his entombment in the sarcophagus, did he picture himself as a father.

His son sighed in his sleep and rolled into a new position. The boy’s mouth fell open and the small breath that escaped made his fringe billow slightly.

Pariah couldn’t help the fond smile that graced his features and crinkled the scar under his eye. There was so much he wanted to teach the boy, so much he wanted to see the boy do for the first time.

There were so many ‘first times’ he had already missed.

Adoption was both a blessing and a curse in that way. He wasn’t sure what the child had experienced already. He really didn’t know what things he didn’t know about.

Although that was in itself its own challenge. It could even be fun to discover these things.

Pariah was drawn from his musings as he felt something encroaching on his territory. The boy gasped in his sleep and woke instantly. He jumped up from the mound of overstuffed pillows and blankets and hovered above the bed, awake and alert.

“You sense that too?” he asked.

Phantom looked to him and nodded, “Please tell me you were expecting visitors?” he asked with worry tilting his brows together and mouth into a frown.

Pariah simply shakes his head, “Let’s go see who this intruder is then, shall we?”

The boy nods and floats along in Pariah’s wake.

Once they reached the entry hall they could hear some fool shouting at the closed doors. Their words are muffled by the thick wood and stone bricks but the intent is easily grasped.

“Doesn’t sound like a welcoming committee.” quips the boy, “I was kind of hoping it would be someone with presents.”

“Why would there be presents?”

“Well, I was recently adopted so that’s like a birthday, right? And I was crowned Prince, so maybe a party for that too?”

Pariah laughed good-naturedly, “I suppose a coronation ball could be arranged, but we should wait on that a little. I did raise a bit of hell when I woke up after all. Let them lick their wounds before telling them to celebrate our good fortune.”

“I guess that’s fair.” the boy relents.

“Good. Now, wait here while I greet our unwelcome guest.”

Pariah waits until Phantom has landed silently on the stone floor before finishing the journey to the door.

It opens with a thought and reveals a small band of animalistic warriors. Their bright white fur glistens just like the snow from the frozen wasteland that they call home.

They hesitate upon seeing him there.

Good.

He makes quick work of the small army but decides not to finish them off completely. That’s an awfully violent thing to do with his son watching.

It was also completely unnecessary. He merely needed to show them that he was still the king. He was still just as powerful as he had always been.

It would be easier to let them run away and spread the news than to let the rumor spread slowly if they didn’t return.

He waited until the last of the icy beasts had disappeared on the emerald horizon before he turned back to his keep.

“Were those yetis?”

“Yes? They are the denizens of a region called the Far Frozen. Old enemies of mine from before your time.”

The boy simply nodded before changing the subject. “I don’t see many ghosts use ice. Is that a common or uncommon thing?”

“I would say uncommon. Fire tends to be the most common elemental aspect.”

The pair walk back into the keep and Phantom continued his curious line of questioning. “What do you think I’ll be?”

Pariah paused in the hall and thought, “It’s hard to say,” he paused again and looked down at the boy, “You haven’t shown any inklings towards anything? Wait,” he looked the smaller ghost over, “When did you achieve ghosthood?”

“Uh, if you mean when did I become a ghost?” Pariah nodded and the boy continued, “I guess that was about a year ago, I think? Maybe a little less.”

Pariah just blinked as he tried to process the information. How could such a young ghostling be so strong? He couldn’t believe that something the equivalent of a baby had nearly bested him in a one-on-one battle?

And he’s so little.

Where does he even store all of this endless bountiful power?

And there’s no reason why he wouldn’t get more powerful as he ages.

“Uh, Dad? You okay?”

Pariah blinks and refocuses his attention on his overwhelmingly powerful child, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He takes a breath to recenter himself so he can stop worrying his son, “I just hadn’t realized you were so young.”

Again, the joys and surprises of adoption.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Aw come on! I just had a nap. I’m not tired.” the boy pouts as he floats to sit cross-legged in the air.

That was unexpected. The boy had been so obedient earlier, what changed?

The battle.

Had he been that ready for a battle he now was wide awake? That must be it.

“Have you ever used a sword before?”

The boy crosses his arms so his elbow resting in his hand and a finger to his lip as he ponders, “Well I’ve held the Fright Knight’s sword a couple of times and there was this one time I used the neck of Ember’s guitar to fight Youngblood when he had a sword. Other than that, no.”

If anything was constant about this boy, it was how full of surprises he was.

“Well then let us see how much you have to learn.”

The boy floated upward and beamed, both literally and figuratively, with excitement.

How was it that this child was exactly what he had always wanted despite having never wanted one before he found him?

He was both powerful and graceful. The fluidity of his movements as he flew along besides Pariah as they walked to the training grounds made him wonder if maybe the boy was made for this. Was it his destiny to be a ghost? Born only to become something greater?

So rare and seemingly impossible. He was a perfect dichotomy.

Pariah grabbed two short swords, tossing one to the boy, “Let your training commence.”

===============================================

The pair dueled for several hours. Pariah made sure to hold back just enough to not overwhelm the child, but not too much so that he wouldn’t learn anything.

“I’m impressed with how well you are picking this up.” Pariah encouraged as he went in for a quick counter-strike on the boy’s unguarded left side.

“Really?” Phantom replied as he just barely dodged out of the way.

“I don’t give compliments just to stroke egos.”

“Isn’t that a waffle?” the boy says as he parries

He nearly misses the easy block in his confusion, “What?”

“Oh wait, I’m dumb.” The boy lowers his sword as he floats backward in thought, “I’m thinking of Eggo’s. Am I hungry?”

Pariah doesn't think he can continue this lesson if the boy is so distracted. Although it was very wise of him to float out of range while he lowered his guard. He sheaths his sword into the course dirt beneath him, “Are you hungry?”

“No?” He hums to himself in thought, “maybe if I think about it more.”

“Are you often unsure of your own needs?” he asks gently taking the sword away from his son and placed it near his own.

“Sometimes. I think I just get distracted by other things, you know? Like if I’m super focused on something I literally can’t think of anything else. Bodily functions included.”

“Ah, I see.” Hyperfocus was great for battle, but could easily be an Achilles heel if not monitored.

“Wait that actually made sense? I’ve tried telling other people that but they didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“I’ve felt the same way myself. A good way to keep that in check is to be around people you trust. That way if you work yourself too hard, they can pull you out of it.”

The boy smiled. He had the sweetest smile.

But then he wavered, his body sinking to the dirt below as he tried to steady himself.

“Whoa, I got kind of dizzy for a second there.” he blinked and shook his head as if that would make it go away. Instead, he stumbled forward into Pariah’s waiting arms.

Pariah brushed back the boy’s fringe and noticed he was much warmer than before. They might have been training for an extended period but he was sure he hadn’t worked the boy that hard.

“The suit.” the boy’s breath was shaky as he gripped onto his father for support. “I think it’s still on. I, it,” he stammered and his words started to slur together, “gotta get it,” he was panting now, as if the effort of standing was more strenuous than an uphill run, “get it off. Gonna,” he looked up and his eyes were full of fear, “please?”

Before he could finish the boy passed out. Pariah easily scooped him up and took him back inside.

He took the boy into his bedroom and gently lay him in the nest of blankets and pillows. He ghosted his hand down the boy’s arm. The energy of the armor buzzed and he could feel it as it tried to leech from him as well.

The boy was right, the armor was poison. Donning it was dangerous, but the thought of leaving him exposed seemed even more so.

Especially after they had already been attacked once before since he had been here.

There was only one ghost he could think of that would have the answers, but he wasn’t someone he was ready to see just yet.

Phantom whimpered in his sleep and Pariah sighed. He really hoped this wouldn’t backfire.

Pariah went to his study and picked up the broken pocket watch. He clicked the release on top to open the small timepiece. The glass was cracked and the time was stopped. Stopped at the moment he had been betrayed.

Pariah pushed down his resentment and wound the clock.

“I didn’t think I’d be receiving a call from you so soon,” a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

“So soon?” Pariah turned to face his guest, “Was it truly inevitable that we would meet again?”

Clockwork smirked that knowing smirk of his, “Of course. Now, what’s the question you want me to answer today?”

“Don’t you already know?”

“Yes, but I do prefer to hear it from you.” he admitted then added, “In real-time.”

Pariah shook his head, “It’s easier to show you.” he led them to the boy’s room and waited.

“Do you really need my advice on this?” Clockwork asked. His tone wasn’t demeaning, just curious.

“I don’t know which would be better for him. I feel both options are equally terrible.”

Clockwork hummed to himself as he floated closer to the boy.

Pariah tried his hardest not to get defensive. He did his best to not attack someone he had just invited into his lair. It was difficult to just stand back and let someone as powerful as Clockwork be so close to his child.

Difficult, but not impossible.

“Remove the armor.” He turned to Pariah, “Unless of course, you wish to kill him outright?”

“If death is the result of inaction, that doesn't sound too terrible.”

“For you maybe, but he isn’t going to like it.”

“He’s already a ghost.”

“True. But he’s also a child, he’s still alive. The living aren’t all that excited about the concept of death.” Clockwork floated back over to Pariah, “besides he’s currently the most perfect anomaly. Would you really wish to destroy that?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pariah easily walked past the other ghost to his son’s bedside. Certainly, he was strong enough to keep the boy safe without needing to swaddle him in such dangerous protection.

He reached forward and through the armor. He pulled the boy up and out of the cursed metal and relaxed with the child.

Using his other hand he waved the offending armor aside with his ghostly energy and placed the boy back down to rest.

Once he was settled in, he transformed back into his human form.

This didn’t make Pariah feel any more at ease but he resisted putting the armor back on.

“Let the boy rest. He’ll be alright.” Clockwork consoled as he hovered dangerously close to Pariah himself. “You know, fatherhood looks good on you.”

Pariah turned to the purple-clad timekeeper, “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means it’s been an awfully long time since we were alone and I think there’s a lot we need to catch up on.”

Pariah did not miss the coy implications of that statement. He was merely taken off guard by them.

“And what makes you think I forgive you?”

“Time heals all wounds.”

“Even the sting of betrayal?”

“Especially that.” Clockwork’s smile softened, “Now come, let’s give the boy some privacy while we get reacquainted.”

Surely a private conversation wouldn’t be too bad. He had missed the company of the other, but he didn’t think they would ever be as close as they once were.

Clockwork wasn’t one to move too quickly, there was no reason to worry about any trickery or line crossing.

They walked back to his study, it was Clockwork’s favorite room after all, and talked casually, like old friends.

He missed this.

#phic phight #phic phight 21 #Danny Phantom #ghost adoption #Pariah Dark #Dark Ages (ship)#but just a tiny bit hinted at the end #sailor-toni

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noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

What’s Your Sign?: Gemini

Genre: High School!AU, Domestic!AU

Pairing: Shownu x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/underage drinking

Words: 5,617

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

It had all started back in high school.

You’d had the biggest crush on Shownu -- I mean, how could you not? He was cute, sweet, kind, ambitious, thoughtful, funny in a lame way, and he had muscles for days.

What was there not to like?

Since he was a fairly popular jock and you were a fairly unknown nerd, though, you kept your crush to yourself. I mean, that and the fact you were too shy to even approach him let alone talk to him. The guy lived in the same neighborhood as you, and he still had never noticed you, for crying out loud. You had every reason to be scared of walking up to him and introducing yourself and every reason not to do just that.

...Your best friend, Miley, however -- she had other plans.

Somehow, she had figured out you were as in love as a teenager could be with Shownu. You hadn’t been sure how she’d figured it out because you’d certainly never told her, but one day at lunch, she had come right out and asked you.

“Do you like Shownu?”

You had nearly coughed up your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but since you’d always been a terrible liar, you’d had to admit it to her.

And then she had followed up her question with another question: “Why haven’t you told him?”

I mean, really! It’s like your best friend didn’t even know you at all!

“...Why would I tell him?” you’d asked with a very confused, wrinkled forehead.

Shouldn’t it have been completely obvious why you hadn’t told him? And would never tell him?

“Yeah, but you don’t know how he feels if you don’t try! What if you confess to him, and he says he’s been crushing on you for a long time, too! But he’s just never worked up the nerve to tell you! And then the two of you start dating, you graduate and go to college together, you get married, you have kids, and live the rest of your lives in domestic bliss!” Miley replied before sighing dreamily.

You stared at her from across the lunch table, one brow quirked and the most confused half-grin on your lips.

“Are you serious?” you finally asked. “That’s... never going to happen. This is real life, Miles, not a fairy tale.”

Miley rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, what I just described isn’t a fairy tale, either! It’s perfectly possible!”

“Not with Shownu, it’s not,” you murmured. “We live in the same neighborhood. If he liked me, don’t you think he would have at least talked to me by now?”

“There’s a party on Saturday,” Miley replied instead of answering your question. “I know you don’t want to, but you should come. Even if just for a little while!”

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because I want you to come.”

Since you were a shy introvert, your first instinct was to say “Absolutely not.”

...But Miley hardly ever asked you to go to a party. She knew you would say ‘No,’ and she respected your choice. So, her even asking you in the first place was kind of a big deal.

It was also your last year of high school; if you were ever going to actually go to a high school party, now was pretty much the time.

And... it’s not like you had any other plans this weekend besides reading and Netflix.

So, you let out a deep sigh.

And, despite your extreme urge to refuse, you said, “...Okay, fine.”

Miley froze, her eyes wide and her jaw agape.

“Yes, I said ‘okay, fine,’” you repeated with pursed lips. “But I’m driving us there so I can choose when we leave.”

“DEAL!” Miley cried, causing several classmates in the vicinity to turn and look at her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and shot you an apologetic look.

You simply rolled your eyes as you suppressed a smile.

There was no question in your mind that Miley wanted you to go to this party because Shownu would be there, and there was no question in your mind she would try to make you talk to him -- at the very least.

...This weekend was going to be interesting.

“I’m home!” you called out as you pushed the front door open with your knee. You turned sideways so you could fit through with your load of grocery bags, though before you could even take three steps into the entryway, Shownu was jogging down the hall to meet you.

“Hey, welcome back,” he greeted with a small smile. “Let me get those.”

He carefully -- but easily -- took one handful of bags from you and then the other before turning to head down to the kitchen.

“How --” you started to ask.

“She’s upstairs taking a nap,” Shownu answered before you could even finish, his voice soft so as not to wake up your sleeping daughter.

Ever since you had welcomed your daughter into your life, this had been the grocery routine: you would go shopping while Shownu stayed home with her. You truly didn’t mind because you would rather pick things out yourself, and Shownu always took over carrying things in and putting them away. You did most of the cooking, anyway (while Shownu did most of the dishes, in turn), so it made sense for you to shop for all of the food and household items you needed. In your eyes, it was a completely fair deal.

You followed Shownu down the hallway, waiting until he’d set the bags down on the counter before resting your hand in-between his shoulders blades.

“How are you?” you asked with one corner of your lips quirked up into a half-smile.

Shownu glanced at you over his shoulder, returning your smile with an adorable one of his own and leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m glad you’re home,” he answered.

Even though your husband always insisted you didn’t have to help put the groceries away -- you did all the shopping, after all -- when you came home to a sleeping toddler, you couldn’t resist.

As slightly sad as it sounds, it was a nice way to get in ten extra minutes of alone time with him. And, Lord knows, after having a baby, alone time was in short supply.

By some miracle, your daughter was still quietly sleeping even after you finished putting all the groceries away, so you and Shownu decided to continue your alone time on the sofa.

As soon as you flopped down onto the cushion, Shownu reached out and circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. A smile tugged at your lips, and you nestled into him, inhaling his familiar scent and fitting your head into the crook of his neck.

Even after all these years, being in his embrace, being held so tightly made your heart all warm and fluttery.

“Are you sure I look okay?” you asked Miley for probably the fifth time as the two of you headed down the walkway of... Well, you weren’t sure exactly who was throwing this party. But you were walking toward his or her house, anyway.

And for probably the fifth time, Miley replied with, “Yes, you look amazing. I promise.”

You had let your best friend pick out your outfit for this party, and while she really hadn’t dressed you in anything you didn’t actually like... you just weren’t sure you liked it on you. But if she said you looked amazing, you figured you should trust her.

When you reached the front door, Miley stopped. She turned toward you and took your hands in hers, squeezing them affectionately. “You can have a good time if you let yourself,” she said with a half-smile. “And I swear I won’t purposefully try to get Shownu to talk to you.”

You shook your head gently as you let out a breathless chuckle at her promise.

“But if it happens accidentally, then I won’t do anything to stop it!” she added cheerfully.

Before you had the chance to assure her that was not going to happen, Miley opened the door and practically pushed you inside.

As soon as she closed the door behind you, you felt uncomfortable.

All of the people you didn’t know, the music, the red, plastic cups you knew had alcohol in them even though nobody here was legally allowed to drink...

It was an introvert’s nightmare, basically. But you’d promised Miley you would come and that you would try to have fun.

You’d also promised to stay for at least an hour, so it was time to find a quiet corner -- and maybe a pet, if one was available -- and play games on your phone.

But you didn’t even take one step down the hallway before Miley gently grabbed your upper arm and murmured into your ear, “Do not just find a chair to sit in for an hour.”

You whipped your head around to look at her, your brow furrowed deeply. “But I --”

“I’ll stay with you the whole time,” she assured you. “But I’m not letting you just make yourself invisible. This is one of the last times we’ll be around these people. In a few months, we’ll all be graduating and going off to college, and you’ll never know what you might have missed out on if you just find an empty corner and play games on your phone the whole night.”

To be quite honest, you didn’t quite feel the same way about high school as Miley did. You had a strong inkling you really wouldn’t miss it once you left, but... to appease your best friend (whom you would miss once you left), you simply let out a soft sigh and nodded.

“All right,” you relented. “But if you leave me, and I end up alone --”

“You’ll never forgive me, I know,” Miley interrupted with a grin. “Now, come on. Let’s see if Shownu is here yet.”

“You said you wouldn’t --”

“I’m not! But if we just happen to run into him...”

You groaned as Miley tugged you down the hallway, already wishing your promised hour was up so you could go home.

After Miley had procured a drink for herself and a bottle of water for you, she led you around the house, stopping to say ‘hello’ and chat with anyone she even vaguely recognized. You knew a few people (knew of was more accurate, though, since you’d never actually had real conversations with any of them), but for the most part, everyone at this party was a stranger to you.

But then you saw Shownu.

Someone Miley had been chatting with had mentioned there were some games going on down in the basement -- which you figured probably meant Beer Pong or whatever it was -- so, she had excused you both and coerced you down there.

You had no intention of playing any sort of game, and Miley definitely knew that. When you reached the bottom of the basement stairs, though, you heard her whisper “Bingo.”

And that’s when you saw him.

And that’s when you knew.

Miley wasn’t going to purposely make you talk to him -- or make him talk to you -- but she sure as heck was going to purposely find him and force you to be in the same room as him.

Thankfully, Miley didn’t immediately push you toward him. She didn’t even go up to join the small group he was talking to. Instead, she corralled you over to a sofa with a couple of empty spots, and after over an hour of walking around and socializing, it was more than nice to be able to sit down and relax.

“How you holding up?” Miley asked, setting her drink down on the coffee table before sliding her arm through yours and resting her head on your shoulder.

“Well, we’ve been here for more than an hour, and I haven’t brought up leaving yet,” you answered. Which was true. But would you tell her you were having a good time? No, you would not.

“We’ll stay down here for a little while -- just to see! And if nothing happens after... half an hour, then we can --”

“Leave?” you interrupted, knowing she had just been about to say you could go back upstairs. But you wanted to take your chances.

Miley let out a soft sigh and nuzzled her head against your shoulder. “Okay, fine.”

It took everything in you not to pump your fist and cry out with a ‘yes!’

Miley sat back up and leaned over to get her drink, and you -- in true you fashion -- began to daydream. Half of your brain was daydreaming about Shownu coming over to talk to you, and the other half was daydreaming about going back home and turning yourself into a burrito blanket.

But then a loud voice interrupted your daydream before you even got the chance to really start.

Sigh.

“All right, everyone,” one of the guys standing near Shownu called out. And you kind of thought maybe he was the one throwing the party. Hadn’t you come trick-or-treating at this house once when you were little? And his mom had answered the door and given you two handful of chocolate?

The guy began talking again, and you shook your head to rid yourself of your rambling thoughts. “Since this is our last high school party, I thought we should take it old school and play some games we used to as kids.”

Ooh, like Go Fish?

“So, we’re starting out with Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

...Oh. So, not Go Fish.

You started to get off the sofa, but Miley tightened her hold on your arm and pulled you back down.

Excuse me?

She expected you to join in on Seven Minutes in Heaven? The game where you get shut into a closet with someone and are expected to make out?

...Was she drunk?

“Miles, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not as much as you’re thinking. Just relax, your name probably won’t even be picked.”

Just after she said that, someone handed each of you a slip of paper and a pencil. You figured you were supposed to write your name on it, drop it into someone’s hat, and then somebody would pick out two names.

As your heart began to thump in your chest, you quickly scribbled down your name and thrust your slip of paper into Miley’s hand.

Oh, god, why hadn’t you written down someone else’s name?! That was a genius plan!

You tried to get the piece of paper back from your best friend, but she closed her fist tightly, hopped up off the couch, and dropped both pieces into a hat the guy who’d announced the game was holding out.

You watched with wary eyes as everyone in the basement came to put their name in the hat. All the while, your brain was repeating over and over again, “Your name probably won’t even be picked.”

When the party host started shaking the hat around, you closed your eyes.

Your name probably won’t even be picked. Your name probably won’t -- oh, god, why had you done this? -- even be picked. Your name probably --

“Y/N!”

Well, there went your friendship with Miley.

“Shownu!”

...Excuse me what?

...Oh, wait. Did you just say that out loud?

Before you even knew what was happening, someone (presumably Miley) had forced you to stand up and was pushing you toward an open door. The other party-goers in the basement were hooting and hollering, and Shownu was walking toward the door, too, and it was all such a blur and then you were suddenly in the closet and someone was closing the door behind you.

Oh, my god.

You were currently shut in a closet with Shownu.

It was completely dark, so you couldn’t see anything, but you could feel him standing in front of you. You could hear his breathing, even over the anxious rushing in your ears.

Actually, the longer you stood in silence, the more you could hear how rapid and erratic his breaths were.

“...Are you... okay?” you asked, though you were incredibly surprised you were able to manage words right now. And you were also surprised that those were your very first words you’d ever spoken to him.

“I, uh --” he stammered. “I just... don’t want to be in here.”

Your heart sank when you heard his answer. Or maybe a cold knife went through it. Or both.

He didn’t want to be in here with you.

Wonderful.

“Sorry,” you murmured, feeling a bit breathless. “We don’t have to do anything --”

“No, no!” he interjected. “Not -- it’s not you. I just -- I don’t like small spaces. Or being closed in.”

It honestly took everything in you not to let out a huge sigh of relief.

He didn’t want to be in here because he was claustrophobic! That was great news!

I mean, not really because he was probably on the edge of freaking out, but you know what I mean.

“Oh!” you breathed. “Well. I, uh... I don’t like flying, but my grandparents live too far away to drive, so we have to fly every time we go see them, and I’ve found that writing down memories or future plans I’m looking forward to helps -- except you don’t have a pen and paper in here, so you can just talk about them. What are you doing after graduation?”

...You were thoroughly impressed that you’d just said all of those words to Shownu. And they all made sense! They’d been a bit hurried and maybe you’d stumbled on a few here and there, but you’d talked to him!

“Well,” he replied with a soft, anxious chuckle. “I got accepted at my first choice, so I’m moving there once summer is over.”

“Oh, really? Which school?”

And when Shownu told you his future alma mater, your heart skipped a couple of beats. “Really?” you asked. “Me, too. Both of my parents went there, so it’s becoming a sort of family tradition.”

“Do you know which dorm you’re in?” he inquired.

“Morris Hall,” you answered with a grin. You’d just received the email yesterday, and you’d been looking at layouts and pictures of the dorms online to try and figure out how you wanted to decorate it.

“No way, same here,” Shownu replied, and you could hear he was grinning, as well.

Oh, good gracious. Not only where you and Shownu going to the same university in the fall, but you would be in the same dorm?

...Were you going to survive your freshman year?

“Your name is... Y/N, right?” he asked, sounding a bit less confident than he usually looked.

You simply hummed positively, nodding even though he couldn’t hear you.

“We live in the same neighborhood, don’t we?” he continued.

“Yes -- I mean, I think we do.”

“...How come we’ve never talked or anything?” Shownu sounded genuinely confused, and it was probably the cutest thing ever.

“Well -- we, uh -- I guess we just... haven’t ever been in the same classes?” Which you knew was true because you’d been keeping track. By some act of Satan, Shownu’s schedule had literally never matched up with yours. Some semesters, you’d had the same teacher, just different class periods, and it had taken everything in you not to ask the guidance counselor to switch your classes just so you could be in the same room as him.

“Yeah, that must be it,” he murmured. “What are you majoring in?”

And so your conversation continued, focusing mainly on your university plans and what you wanted to do for a career, but there was also some high school and neighborhood talk sprinkled in there.

A loud knock suddenly rang through the air, and a muffled voice announced you had one minute left.

Really? Six minutes had already gone by?

“Hey,” Shownu began, and you could feel him shifting around. “Thank you. All that talking really did help. I actually completely forgot we were... in a closet.”

You could feel your cheeks warming, and you were now glad there was no light whatsoever. “You’re welcome. I’m glad it helped.”

You then heard some rustling, and after a few moments, the light of his phone screen shone through the darkness. “Here, put your number in -- if you want to. You don’t have to, of course, I just figured since we’re going to the same university --”

You took his phone, though you truly had no idea how your hands were not shaking right now.

After typing in your number, you handed it back to him. The soft light from the screen illuminated his face slightly, and you could see he was smiling as he looked down at your number.

Oh, god, you were about to die. Your heart was going to give out right here, right now. Shownu was smiling because you had given him your number.

You knew the whole point of Seven Minutes in Heaven was to make out with someone, but what had just happened between you and Shownu had been so much better.

It didn’t take long for Shownu to lie back down on the sofa, pulling you with him and shifting so you could rest partially on his chest.

You let out a very content sigh as you settled in and tangled your legs with his. There was hardly anything better in the world than cuddling like this with Shownu, even though you’d done it countless times by now.

“All we need is an episode of Law & Order playing on the television, and it would be just like old times,” Shownu murmured.

You chuckled softly, lifting your free hand and beginning to trace over the letters on his t-shirt. “But you would also need to be eating something.”

“Not just any something,” he replied.

And then both of you said, “Luigi’s Pizza” at the same time.

Yep, that was it. Law & Order, Luigi’s Pizza, and sofa snuggle sessions. That described your last year of college to a T.

That was the year you and Shownu had (finally) gotten together. After almost three and a half years of being friends, Shownu had confessed his feelings for you, and you’d been dating -- and then engaged, and then married -- ever since.

When you’d walked out of that closet all those years ago at the party you hadn’t wanted to go to, you’d truly thought you wouldn’t hear from Shownu again. He had gotten your number, and the two of you had been set to live in the same dorm at university just a few months later, but still. Why would he have actually wanted to hang out with you? Talk to you? Get to know you?

But, to your surprise. he had texted you the next day. Nothing super exciting -- it had just been a simple “hey how’s your weekend?” but that was still worlds more than you’d been expecting.

In fact, the entire summer turned out to be worlds more than you were expecting. You and Shownu actually... hung out. You talked. You got to know each other. And when you both eventually packed up and moved into your new dorm for your first year of college, Shownu actually called you his friend.

While getting to know Shownu on a personal level did confirm that your crush on him had been completely justified, you... actually weren’t heartbroken or disappointed in the least that he saw you as just a friend. You had kind of gone into this knowing he wouldn’t see you as anything more because... why would he?

But anyway -- the two of you had grown pretty close during the first three years of university. Shownu was much more outgoing than you, but as it turned out, he liked to stay in for a quiet night just as much as you did. He was quietly intelligent, highly adaptable and laid-back, and he made friends more easily than you could ever comprehend. He was the perfect balance to your very structured, slightly stubborn, incredibly shy self.

The two of you had spent just about every weekend together, even moving to the same apartment complex after two years in the dorm.

You studied together, ate meals together, watched movies together -- Shownu had even convinced you to work out with him a handful of times.

And then one night during your Senior year, Shownu had just come out and confessed. The rest, obviously, was history.

“Do you... remember when we first met?” you asked, keeping your gaze focused on your finger as you continued to trace over Shownu’s t-shirt.

“Yeah,” he murmured, and you could tell his eyes were closed. If you kept on tracing his shirt, he would probably be asleep within five minutes. “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“Miley forced me to go to that party,” you told him with a bashful grin.

Shownu let out a soft chuckle, his breath ruffling the hair on top of your head. “I wondered about that. Especially after I really got to know you. I mean, I’m glad you came. Obviously. But have you been to a party since?”

“No,” you laughed.

“Why did she force you to go?”

“Oh, you know,” you sighed. “Typical ‘the last time we’ll get to see these people’ stuff. And... well, I kind of had a major crush on you.”

Shownu paused, and for some reason... you were nervous. You weren’t sure why because Shownu was literally your husband and the father of your child, but... you had never told him.

“Wait, really?” he asked, squeezing your shoulder a little.

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly. “For basically all of high school. You have no idea how nervous I was when we got shoved into that closet together.”

“Wait, what? You had a crush on me for all of high school?”

You pressed your lips together, nodding and letting out a positive hum.

“Wh -- Babe, why did you never tell me?” he asked, sounding probably as shocked as you’d ever heard him.

“Because! Once I got comfortable enough around you, we were already friends,” you explained.

Shownu moved to sit up then, gently pushing you up, too, and turning to face you. His forehead was adorably wrinkled as he stared at you, and then he asked, “Did you... like me the whole time?”

You thought for a moment before lifting one shoulder into a clumsy shrug. “I mean, the feelings were always there, yes. But I wasn’t, like, pining. At first, it was kinda hard, yeah. I really liked you even before we met, and then getting to know you proved how justified my crush was because you’re such an amazing person. But... eventually... I don’t know. You just became my friend, and that’s what I saw you as. For the most part.”

Shownu still looked incredibly confused, even after your explanation, so you decided to continue.

“Okay, do you remember the night I found out my dad had been in an accident?”

He nodded.

“I called you over because you were the only person I knew I could trust with my vulnerability. I didn’t want to tell anyone else -- just you. I knew you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, and you would know what to do, and... I just wanted you to be there with me. Not because I thought you would hug me and I just wanted to be in your arms -- because... I needed my friend.”

You felt like you weren’t making much sense, but Shownu’s look of confusion had faded slightly, so maybe you were.

“But... you still liked me?”

“Of course, I did,” you smirked. “The feelings were always there. They... just took a back seat for a while.”

“Until I confessed.”

“Until you confessed.”

“And I never figured it out?”

“My love...” you chuckled softly. “You’re rather... oblivious. I’m not saying I was being obvious in the least, but even if I had been flirting in your face... you probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

He furrowed his brow then and shot you a curious look. “If I hadn’t --”

“Let’s... not go there,” you interrupted, resting a hand on his upper arm.

Believe me, you’d thought about that before. A lot. You’d come to the conclusion that it wasn’t healthy to think about Ifs. If this had happened differently in any way... you may not be where you were right now, and where you were right now was exactly where you wanted to be.

Shownu nodded slowly for a few moments before moving to put an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you in close, pressing a kiss to your temple and not moving for almost a minute.

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin.

A smile sprung onto your lips, and you closed your eyes so you could truly revel in this feeling. Even though he’d held you and kissed you and told you he loved you literally hundreds of thousands of times by now, you never took it for granted. You never got tired of it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I love you, too,” you replied before you tilted your head back and requested a real kiss.

Just as Shownu obliged, placing his lips on yours... your daughter’s babbling trickled through the speaker of the baby monitor.

You smiled wryly, letting out a soft chuckle and kissing your husband quickly before pushing yourself off of the sofa. “I got her,” you said. Shownu had just been a single parent for almost two hours while you’d been grocery shopping, so it was your turn to take the reins.

Before you could leave, though, Shownu reached out and gently took hold of your wrist.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You raised your eyebrows, turning to look down at him.

“Thank you. For... everything. For being a great wife and a great mom and a great person and... for being you. Thank you.”

You’d known Shownu for so many years now. You knew everything about him, and yet... he still managed to surprise you sometimes.

He could be oblivious and clueless and even too laid back. He showed you he loved you all the time, of course, but he wasn’t always the best at telling you. Usually, you were the one to say it first, and he would respond with that sweet, eye-crinkling smile of his.

And then he had moments like this. Moments where he thanked you for being you, just out of the blue.

You wouldn’t lie: sometimes it felt like you were married to two different guys. But you didn’t really have a problem with that because you loved both of them. You loved all sides of Shownu with your whole heart, and you always would.

You leaned down to press yet another kiss to his lips, murmuring a “You’re welcome” against them.

But your daughter’s voice interrupted you again, so you laughed softly and excused yourself once more.

As you headed down the hallway, though, you heard Shownu’s footsteps thudding behind you. He came up and slid his arms around your waist, announcing that he was coming with you.

“You don’t have to,” you chuckled, walking awkwardly with him behind you.

“But I want to. There’s no one else I’d rather spend time with,” he told you as he kissed your cheek. “You’re my friend, too. My best friend. And we made the best daughter in the world, so... yeah. I’m coming with you. Always.”

Well, there he went again. Surprising you.

But instead of getting all emotional and sappy about it and reacting as his wife, you decided to react as his friend.

“Oh, so I’m your friend,” you said.

Shownu nodded, humming positively in response to your statement.

“You... only see me as a friend.”

“Wait -- no, that’s not what I meant --”

“Okay, then, friend,” you teased as you approached the bottom of the staircase. “Let’s go get our daughter up from her nap, friend.”

“Be quiet,” he chuckled.

“Okay, friend, I’ll be quiet.”

You could tell Shownu was going to attack your sides with tickles at any moment, so you squirmed out of his hold and began to rush up the stairs.

Your husband was quick, though -- and you knew this. He chased you up, eliciting a laughing squeal from your throat, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he caught you, held you tightly, and kissed you until you admitted you were more than just a friend.

Despite your teasing, though, you knew Shownu was right. And you felt exactly the same way.

He was your husband, yes. The love of your life, absolutely. But he hadn’t just stopped being your friend the moment he’d confessed his feelings to you. He still was your friend. You still loved just hanging out with him and talking to him about whatever was on your mind. You still knew you could count on him to be there for you when you felt vulnerable. You still wanted to spend time with him more than anyone else (except maybe Miley, who was now the best Aunt to your daughter she could possibly be).

Truly, you couldn’t imagine your life being even an iota different than what it was right now, and you honestly didn’t even want to.

And to think... it all started in a basement closet.

Other Signs: Aries, Taurus, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces

#kwritersworldnet #shownu scenarios #shownu imagines #shownu au #shownu fluff #shownu fanfic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x au #monsta x fluff #monsta x fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #shownu #son hyunwoo #monsta x

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daemour · 4 years ago

Text

Chronicles of a Cat (I prefer the term feline) - Chapter 2

Im Jaebum x fem!Reader

Summary: You are a witch, cursed by your brother, BamBam. The curse is for you to be an up-and-coming sorcerer, Jaebeom’s familiar. You can’t let Jaebeom know, but you’re only cursed for a year. It would sound easy, but he has scary instincts.

Chapter warnings: Mild cursing

Genre: Fluff

Chapter word count: 1272 words

Chapter 2: nice place, too bad i’m poor

The answer is yes. You are going to have to kill BamBam. And you're going to burn his body so he can't even be buried. You'll get his inheritance too. You're unbelievably mad at Bam.

The dumbass you no longer claim as your brother did actually curse you. You don't know why it took so long to take hold, but now, you're currently the feline familiar of Im Jaebum, an up-and-coming sorcerer who just moved into your town.

"Oh, hey, pretty kitty," Jaebum smiles down at you. You squawk in indignation, but it only comes out as a meow. Jaebum laughs. "You're the one that chose to be my familiar, cutie. Why are you so offended? Is it because I called you a pretty kitty?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, you dumb shit." It only comes out as a hiss.

"Aw, I'm sorry." Jaebum crouches down, and you glare at him. "Don't give me that look, please. What's your name?"

Dumbass. Doesn't he know the rules of having a familiar? He names the familiar. Yes, the familiar has it's own name, but it is almost never used by the companion. You roll your eyes. Jaebum notices and sighs. "Pick a name for me!" You growl out, and Jaebum raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, you're that kind of familiar." Well, duh. You're a witch before a familiar. If you give Jaebum your name, that would definitely be a problem.

It's not the same matter as a demon's name, however, witches' names do hold some type of power in them. The main problem is that you can't exactly avoid whatever name Jaebum picks. You don't want to have some dumb name. You sweat you'll kill him yourself if you're named Pewter or something.

"I'll name you Sesame! It's a cute name." Oh, god. Well, he's named you now. You can't separate until a year, as familiars must stay with their companion until a year has passed. Then they chose to either stay or go. You don't even know how long it will last, and you can't ask Bam, but you assume it will last a year. If not, at least you'll get to leave.

Oh, BamBam. You want to smack him. How dare he curse you. You don't know what you're going to do about work. You work for a spellbinding store, where you help customers understand what spells they would want to cast or get rid of, and help them find a way to do that. As BamBam says, it's like insurance but magic.

Your boss, a fairy named Mark, is kind enough, but you're worried as to how he and his part-time employee, Jinyoung, will handle the store.

Jinyoung, as an elf, has always been good at the working of spells. He is definitely more in touch with dark magic, but he does have connection to all types of magic. It's not that you're worried about. It's his prickly personality. You've known him for long enough that he's friendly, but if a customer is making his patience run thin...well, lets just say he's quite known among your town for his "impeccable" customer service.

Wait.

Mark.

He's a fairy. He can speak to any animal and familiar. Well, familiars can be understood, but there are still communication barriers. Anyways, Mark would understand your dilemma. Maybe he'd be able to help you. The only problem is Jaebum.

"Why are you so quiet, cutie?" In the middle of your thoughts, Jaebum had scooped you up and is carrying you to his home. You want to roll your eyes but decide against it. It would be in your best interests to act like a familiar. Just imagine if Jaebeom found out.

Not that you don't trust him. It's just that...well, you don't. You don't know him at all. You don't like to assume, but you also don't want to lose your reputation of being the strongest witch in your family line since your great great grandmother was born. If word got out that your brother, a glamour witch managed to curse you, you would be the laughingstock of the town.

It would just affect you either. BamBam hates the old magic-wielders of this town; the ones who run the town council. Unfortunately, you are part of the council and if they even have an inkling that you got cursed by your brother, they'd kick you off and replace you with your brother. Those misogynist dumbfucks would ruin BamBam.

And Mark. He'd be clowned for hiring you. He can't afford that; he's saving up to buy an apartment instead of just living in his shop. He's wanted that for years, and you're not about to put his dream into jeopardy. You're not worried about Jinyoung, though. He handles everything easily.

So now you need to lie low and look for an opening to find Mark. It seems like you won't be going anytime soon, though. You're in a part of town you don't know well. This is where the elite live. You, while you had the chance to when you joined the council, don't live here. Everything was too grand for you. Instead, you live in an apartment on the other side of town.

Looms like Jaebum is into this lifestyle, though. When he carries you into his apartment you almost screech at how big it is. The apartment itself could fit you, BamBam, and Yugyeom easily. You bet even Jaebum would be able to live with the three of you easily.

"Alright, now, lets go find you a bed. We'll also have to find some food. What do you eat?"

"Everything?"

"That doesn't sound like a sure answer," Jaebum grins. You just kind of want to scratch him, but hold back. You can deal with him later, once you figure out how the curse works. Instead, you opt to ignore him.

Jaebum chuckles, not put off by your cold attitude. "You know, you remind me of a good friend of mine. He's a fairy too, and while he seems like he'd be a nice guy, which he is don't get me wrong, he's so savage sometimes."

You nod, but your eye catches on a really, really, soft looking pillow. What you would give to just sleep on it. Jaebum seems to see what you're thinking about and laughs. "I'm gonna go to sleep since it's about time for my nap, so if you want to explore or sleep, be my guest."

This is your chance! You agree happily, and Jaebum moves the pillow to lie flat. "Knock yourself out," he laughs, and leaves for what you presume to be his room. Once you thinks he's gone, you immediately head off the couch to find an open window.

There's one in the bathroom, and you vaguely think to yourself that Jaebum doesn't really worry about his safety. Oh well, it works out in your favor. You get out of the window, silently thanking the feline body that you were able to squeeze out, and try to get your bearings.

You're on the wrong side of town from Mark's store, so you first try to find the road and make your way to the other end. You don't get far before you're lost, though. It's not your fault everything is so huge now and you can't see any signs.

You wander for a while until you see something that looks familiar. It's the bus stop you take to go to council meetings. Now that you have your bearings, you can find your way around and not get lost this time. Mark's shop is only three blocks away.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 fanfic #got7writerscollective #jaebum x reader #jaebum #jaebeom #im jaebeom #got7 #jaebum fanfic #jaebum fanfiction #magical au #witch au #familiar au #bambam #yugyeom #jackson wang #mark tuan #jinyoung #park jinyoung

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alolanrain · 5 years ago

Text

Cold

Galar is cold. The coldest Region Ash has ever been to and this is including Sinnoh. He’s wearing his thickest sweatshirt and pants, full on gloves instead of those fingerless ones. Gou is shivering next to him, the mountain dog anthro is still fairing better though since his anthro shift was made for this weather.

Ash’s tail lashed out and then quivered. Wrapping around his stomach and squeezing his middle. Gou eyed Ash, it’s not like Ash even has an inkling of control over his appendages. Ash just wants to get to the hotel and call it a very early night, since it’s only like three in the afternoon.

Their Specifically in Wyndon, for the worldwide Championship that all champions have to be at. Well all this year, the last twelve Ash has been sneaking by with Drake going in his stead but now Lance had put his foot sown firmly now that Ash is a double titled Champion.

“You can explore,” Ash pointed a shaky finger at Gou, Pikachu making it a bit hard with the way he was hunkering down on his shoulder, “I’m going to be taking a long ass nap.”

Gou snorted and rolled his eyes, “yeah, whatever.” He snipped back. Maybe the cold was getting to him more then Ash thought. But that didn’t matter now, getting to a warm room with a fluffy bed is more important.

“How may I help you this afternoon?” The receptionist asked politely. Though she eyed them like they were at the bottom of her shoes. Rich neighborhoods suck. Pikachu bristled slightly but calmed down when Ash pet the back of his partners tail that was on his other shoulder.

“Master suite for Champion Ash Ketchum on the Alt floor.” Ash mumbled. Pulling out his Champion card and putting it in the little machine right next to the computer behind the desk wall. It was custom at this point that every high end hotel had one of these machines to actually check if people were impersonating a Champion or not. Not like it would be easy with all the mythical and strong animal anthro’s on the line up. The only one closest to a plain human was Ash, a simple house cat Calico anthro, even then the red in his fur was so rich in color that the most expensive dye jobs can’t reach it.

“Oh sorry,” the lady was soon loosing her mock happiness, “it doesn’t look like-“

“The lights green.” Ash stopped her. Tiredly looking at the green light on top of the small black box. Not only was the color indicating that he is in fact a Champion, but also that he does have a room rented.

The receptionist grit her teeth in a false smile that faltered as her eyes moved to something with a slight horror on her face.

Before Ash could move, and with the fact that Gou gasped pretty hard right after the change in the Receptionist’s face, a light hand ghosted from the outside of his shoulder over to his neck. Ash unconsciously moved his head when the hand ran up his neck to cup his jaw.

“You’re freezing.” Good old Wallace. Blunt as ever.

“I feel freezing.” Ash couldn’t help the slight whine filtering into his voice. He lent into Wallace’s hand that still cupped his jaw a little and eyes fluttered closed for a few milliseconds before slowly opening again. Pikachu chirped in greeting to the Champion and Wallace moved his other hand to pet under the mouse’s chin.

“Get your room keys,” Wallace motioned you the small envelope, Gou moved and snagged them off the counter, tossing it to Ash who caught it on reflex, “I’ll escort you and your friend up to your room.”

“Thank you.” Ash whispered. Moving to lean into the taller man’s side. Pikachu gave an appreciative chirp when the blue haired man’s warm hand pet down the spine of the yellow Pokémon.

“Thank you, Champion Wallace.” Gou was more formal. Bowing quickly while walking before catching up to the two who stepped into the elevator.

“It’s no problem,” Wallace’s light cyan angel wings spread out a little to cup behind Ash and Pikachu, “I warned Lance this wasn’t the right time to introduce you. You’ll be shivering and teeth chittering the entire time.” He ran the hand behind Ash’s back from the middle of his shoulders down to the small of his back.

Gou eyes the two Champions, mentally stopping himself from asking why their so affectionate with each other. It was answered soon after when the elevator door opened onto the secret floor when they came face to face with the retired Ex-Champion Steven Stone and Champion Alder.

“Ashton!” Alder belowed happily. Moving to allow the trio out into the floor before pulling Ash into a hug. Minding his fluffy tail that spazzed a bit before winding around the man’s thick ankle. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hi Alder,” Ash sniffed back some snot before moving to curl tighter into the hug, “long time no see.”

“Hello, Ash.” Steven hesitantly reaches out before cupping the back of Ash’s jaw and neck and running his hands up into the semi long hair to brush some hair back. “Your shaking.” Steven frowned.

“I told Lance,” Wallace muttered again while coming closer and pressing a quick kiss into Steven’s hair before facing Ash who was still curled into the hug with Alder, The man never minding how cold the calico anthro is, “but he never listens.”

“It’s because he’s a dragon.” Ash grumbled as he forced himself away from the really warm hug with the gargoyle shifter. “He’s warm all the time no matter what weather, it clouds his judgement.”

“But for twelve years?” Wallace didn’t look to convinced.

“I don’t know,” Ash was fully whining now, “I’m just super tired and really want a bed.”

“Room one hundred and twelve right?” Steven asked. Thumbing at his phone which must have all the Champions room numbers on them.

“Ye.” Ash grunted. Reaching back and grasping for Gou’s hand before trotting behind light gray angel. He didn’t really pay attention to the passing rooms theirs only a few until they reached to the biggest one, which usually goes to Lance since he’s the oldest and the longest lasting Champion

———

It wasn’t long after that when Ash was finally sliding into a big plush bed in his room. Gou right across the hall, the mountain dog anthro had made a point in declaring nap time for him also, so Ash doesn’t have to worry to much in case another Champion or some hotel staff accidentally thinks Gou is sneaking in with a stolen card. Ash doesn’t need a fucking repeat two year ago when he brought Dawn with him that one time to a large scale conference and she was accidentally accused of thieft of Ash’s second key card and trying to sneak into their shared room.

Ash was pretty vicious with both Lance and Drake, who had accused the girl, and publicly dragged their ass’s to the police station to make them pay bail for Dawn. Berating and verbally ripping into the Chinese dragon anthro’s the entire time while sitting next to Alder who drove them there.

He both made them apologize and he and Dawn went to a thrift store to go get some ice cream before heading back to the hotel where they stayed up all night to watch some movies.

The only reason why Brock wasn’t with them was that he already had a room with Misty and another Gym leader that they were friends with on a different floor, floor delta, which is also a secret and private floor for any gym leaders on or off work.

Ash curled his tail tighter around his body, not keen on the cold silk sheets at all, his sock covered feet getting encased most by the multi colored fluff. Sleep was also terrible, which increased Ash’s anger and pushed him to the point where he threw off the covered and hit his hands and legs against the bed like a toddler before getting up and slinging on his sweatshirt from earlier again.

Pikachu blinked lazily you from his spot under the rest of the pillows and half of the comforter. Only stretching and getting out of his half warmth cave because he doesn’t like it when Ash is cold when he isn’t and the way Ash is stalking about looking for some warmer socks he packed made Pikachu anxious. He hopped onto Ash’s shoulders when his trainer offered an arm put after finding said socks and putting them on over his existing ones on his feet.

Shuffling out of his room, Ash’s back met with Gou’s. Making both of them jump and twirl around. Pointing their fingers at each other like the spider man meme.

“Your room cold too?” Gou asked. Floppy ears twitching as he glanced down a millisecond at Ash’s bristling and thrashing tail.

“Iceberg cold.” Ash hissed as he stalked past the mountain dog anthro to go over into the kitchen and the thermostat.

“It’s already at seventy five degrees Fahrenheit!” Ash nearly yowled in rage.

“No way,” Gou trotted into the kitchen and gently shoving Ash away with his shoulders, ignoring the slight hiss and pinned back ears as he looked at the thermo, “holy Arceus you’re not wrong.”

“No shit!” Aah hissed again. Pulling back away from Gou more and going back to his freezing room to snatch his phone of the charger. A loud yowl sounded in his throat as he noticed that it wasn’t even charging.

“My phones nearly dead!” Gou’s voice barked from his room. He must have went to grab his as well.

“Mines at half battery,” Ash convened with him in the middle of the hallway again, “I’ll call Lance to see if he’s up and having the same problem.” No doubt the dragon would be nearly throwing a fit if his heat was shut off and his room freezing cold. Not like it would bother him to much since he has a fire core even if he’s a water dragon, which made absolutely no sense to Ash when he explained it earlier when Ash first came on as his secondary Champion.

Alder would be having a similar problem since he doesn’t retain a lot of heat as well. Cynthia should have no problem since she’s a dragon to and actually is used to the blazing tundras of Sinnoh. Wallace and Steven, even though Steven isn’t a Champion anymore and Wallace just likes dragging his husband to all these events, should be at least okay. Their wings are pretty heat absorbant and should last them a while before they truly got really cold. Four hours into their stay and it’s already been terrible.

Before Ash could even lift the phone to his ears there was a harsh knocking on their hotel room door.

“Sounds like Lance.” Ash grumbled. Ignoring Gou’s bristled shock state at such a harsh sound.

Peeling back his door he was faced by a seething Lance followed by Alder and then even Leon. The Griffin was shuffling his feet and he looked absolutely wrecked, black eye bags and frazzled wings and hair.

“Is your room cold.” Lance snarled.

“Good evening to you too.” Ash hissed back.

“Is. your. room. cold.” Lance turned even a little more violent with his voice.

“Of course it’s cold dipshit!” Ash spat back, “I was about to call you, and ask a bit more politely, if you guys were having the same problem.”

At this Lance tipped his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep inhale that looked like it hurt his lungs before exhaling. “I’m sorry.” Lance muttered. Much more calm and respectful. “I didn’t mean to heat up any anger. I was angry and wasn’t right of me.”

Ash relaxed as well. Letting some of the fight in him slink away in favor but that didn’t stop his tail lashing back and forth. “I’m sorry as well.”

”did one of you check the vents in your room?” Alder pipped up tiredly.

Gou made a nose before pulling back from behind Ash and going to the nearest vent. It was opened and Ash tiredly watched as he crouched down and hovered his hand over the metal.

“Nothings blowing in out sucking out.” Gou informed. Padding back over and taking the time to press his chest into Ash’s side. Going and grabby the calico’s tail and wrapping it around his would fluffy one. He stuffed his face into Pikachu’s fur and the mouse Pokémon papped at the top of his head like an irritated kitten.

Ash groaned and leaned into Gou more, pressing Pikachu between his neck and Goums face more much to the timing ones discontent but he didn’t mutter anything more then a squeak. At least he was warmer then the cold room. He ignored the way Lance and Leon tracked the movement and the way his chest heaved up and down in a very tired sigh.

“How’s Diantha?” Ash asked. Not doubting she wasn’t fairing good at all being a black jaguar anthro.

“Hissing and spitting at anyone who gets to close,” Alder laughed nervously while moving to show the inside of his arm where his sweater sleeve was in tatters with some little blood drops welling up, Good think Alder has very thick skin, “she’s stolen Cynthia and buried herself under their combined blankets and pillows.”

“Sounds like her.” Ash agreed before doing a full body shiver. Tail unwinding from Gou’s tail and thrashing enough that it’s hitting the doorway loud enough to make an auditable thumps.

“Stop that!” Lance growled and moved his hand quick enough to catch Ash’s tail before it thumped against the wall. “I know you’re cold,” he ignored Ash’s hiss and the clawed hand coming down to press his fingernails into Lance’s scaled hands, “but we don’t need you hurting yourself in anger.”

“Much easier said then done.” Ash growled low in his throat. Tightening his hold onto Lance’s hand.

Gou and Pikachu looked wearily from Champion to Champion. Gou for once experiencing one of their ‘legendary’ spats that Ash rarely talks about. Pikachu was looking more towards Alder, hoping that the Rhino anthro would stop this but by the man’s distant look he was going to be no help.

Before anyone could say something else Leon piped up, “I feel like this is all my fault.”

That made everyone pause and turn to stare at him. A mix of confusing and annoyance filtering through their face’s.

“What in the fucking world are you talking about?” Lance asked. Turning more, as much as he can with his arm across his chest in Ash’s hold, to look at the Galar Champion. “You had nothing to do with what’s going on.”

Leon fidgeted even more. Obviously tired and overthinking things, but he carried on. “If I didnt let Rose talk everyone into coming here for the starting ceremony of the worldwide Championship then none of us would be here at this point. No one would be cold, Ash wouldn’t have brought Gou because you wouldn’t have been able to do his long overdo introduction, Alder wouldn’t have gotten his arm scratched by Diantha, and everyone would be relatively okay.”

It took a few seconds for everyone to let the griffins words sink in. But after that they exploded.

“That is so not your fault,” Alder started, “no one would have predicted this happening at all.”

“Alders right!” Lance added, “it’s not your job to leash Rose like that and even then you’re no way responsible for what’s going on.”

Ash sighed heavily. Shoulder slumping as he picked Pikachu off of his shoulder and kinda shoved him into Gou’s arm. Letting go of Lance’s hand as he walked past the two taller Champions and traitor over to Leon. Reaching out with both hands so he could cup the fallen griffins cheeks and make Leon look into his brown eyes.

“Hey,” Ash cooed, “don’t beat yourself up over this. The ceremony would have taken place at another Region and we would all be staying at another hotel, I would have to make my debut anyways an Gou would still be with me since he’s my research partner, the same things that’s happening now?” Aah waved his hands along the darken cold hallway and to the few open door’s that lead into the other hotel room’s, “could have happened the same way like it is now at a different hotel. None of us could have perdicted this would happen.”

“Sorry,” Leon croaked out, wiping away a few tears that were forming in his eyes, “just tired and over thinking everything.”

“I know,” Ash soothed a hand through Leon’s more then usual wild hair, making sure his claws doesn’t catch on a heavy knot or scratch Leon’s scalp, “I am too. We’re all tired but we’ll get through this.”

In truth Ash was already at his fucking limit. It’s to cold and he can feel himself loosing feeling in his tail and ears. His hands shook as he brought them back from brushing Leon’s hair and cradle long his face to clutch them close to his chest. Taking a short breath and exhaling. Suddenly he was made a yelping noise as Leon dragged him into a hug. A hug that somehow made Ash feel safer and was warm. Ash’s face lit up in a blush as he looked up to Leon in a bit of shock.

“Sorry... again.” Leon mumbled into Ash’s own bed head. Hot breath feeling nice against his cold ear even if it did flick itself at the feeling. “You’re probably the coldest one out of us all right now.”

“Diantha is suffering!” Ash protested, “she has shorter fur then I do!”

“But she has Cynthia.” Lance added. Moving to gently slide the tip of Ash’s cat ears between two buckles. The oldest man hissed slightly at the feeling. “Your fucking freezing! Are you sure you’re all right Ash?”

That got Pikachu’s attention and the mouse wiggled out of Gou’s grip and hopped from Alder’s shoulder onto Leon’s. Chirping in worry at Ash.

“I’m good buddy.” Ash cooed. “I’m good.”

Leon draged his large wings over Ash, but not before motioning for Gou also to join. Now that he had the two in his arms Leon seemed to settle down.

“Wallace is trying to figure out what’s wrong, yeah?” Gou hesitantly asked. More concurred in keeping Ash, who started to shake more violently even with Leon’s body heat, warm.

“Along with Steven.” Alder sighed. “But The elevator is broken so they have to walk down thirteen flights of stairs down and up.”

“Why didn’t they ask for Diantha’s Gardevoir?” Ash piped up, looking very unamused, “they could have teleported down there and up in the matter of seconds!”

Lance bit his lips as he made a pointed stare at the floor then swinging it over to Alder who made an even more expressive face.

“Who wants to brave the dungeon?” Lance asked after a few minutes. Looking at everyone who immediately hesitated but one.

———

“Dinatha!” Ash yelled as he barged into Diantha’s suite. The black panther immediately hissed, fur standing on end as she was curled up with Cynthia who had her wings wrapped around the big cat anthro. “We need your Gardevoir!”

“I fucking told Wallace!” Cynthia shouted you the roof immediately after. “That dolt said that it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Diantha kept hissing but Ash’s sudden yowl of anger drowned her out and also surprised her. Blinking in shock her mouth closed with a click!

“Bitch you are not the only one that’s cold!” Ash hissed as he stalked forward to looks for her belt of Poké balls that must have been stashed in the mountain of pillows. “You have a dragon that’s eager to cuddle while I’m stuck with the most touch hating people in the group, get the fuck over yourself and help you useless soft bellied Yamper.”

“Harsh.” Gou muttered behind Ash.

“It’s the fucking truth.” Aah hissed back. Grabbing the Poké ball and calling out Gardevoir.

The physic Pokémon grumbled about being out of her ball. Rubbing her arms over her own shoulders while looking around before turning to face Ash again.

“Hi sweetheart,” Ash chose to be nice and kept his temper down, Dinatha’s Gardevoir wasn’t one to really take shit, “we need you to teleport to Wallace and Steven and then teleport them to the main reception hall if their not already there by now and then teleport them back.”

Gardevoir grumbled loudly at Ash’s request. Scrunching her face to show her displeasure. Making motions with her hands like she was using Kalosian sign language.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” Ash’s shoulders slumped and a weak apologetic smile crossed his lips, “but I can’t make out what you’re saying because we’re both shaking to much.”

The Pokémon grunted before immediately disappearing out of the room and down the hallway.

“Thank you!” Ash cupped his hands around his mouth to yell out to the Pokémon. Who was probably already down in the flight of stairs to check if said husbands were there.

He whipped back around and stepped towards Leon, who still held Gou close, and buried his face into Leon’s own sweater. Opting to keep quite now and save his energy. Though his cheeks were some how permanently stained red at this point.

Gou reaches out and grasped the sweater sleeve of Ash’s elbow, tugging insistently until Ash is curled in his arms and then slept is hugging both of them together. Which was more warm then Leon just holding them by their waists with his wings closed as tight as he could get them around the two.

Lance had moved over to Alder, raising his wings questioning to the Unovian Champion and already rapping his long red scaled tail around the back of Alders ankles. The taller man ducked his head into Lance’s fuffy hair between his two curled horns. Thankful that the Kantonian Champion was willing to share his warmth with the rhino anthro.

It took five minutes for anyone to move next. Leon had moved his arm around Gou, causing Ash to tug Gou closer and lean into Leon’s arm wrapped around his waist, to dig into his pocket to pull out his phone. Thumbing through until he got to his contacts and clicked on one.

It rang three times until the other end came up. Leon put it on speaker phone and sent an apologetic glance towards the two under him that were right next to the speaker end.

“Leon,” a heavy growl sounded through the room, “you better have a good fucking excuse to be calling me at ten at night when you know I’m asleep at this time.”

“Sorry, Rai,” Leon flinched at the angry tone, “we just have a big problem at the hotel we’re staying at, something wrong with the electricity and heat, and we have some anthro’s who can’t really contain heat that well... and I was wondering if-“

“-that I would get up out of my comfy bed and come and help warm some people up?” Raihan injected over Leon’s voice.

“... yes?” Leon phrased it more of a question.

Another growl echoed out of the speaker, both Gou and Ash couldn’t help but flinch at how loud it was. Leon tightened his hold on the two with another apologetic smile that was more a grimace.

“Rai, please?” Leon begged, “two champions are literally about to go feral while another is gonna like... die of being to cold.”

“Damn right!” Ash and Dainatha belted out at the same time. Same tone and everything.

“Arceus. dammit Lee,” Raihan sneered, “You’re killing me here. You’re killing your friend and rival my dude.”

“Please?” Leon doesn’t care if he’s straight begging right now, he really doesn’t want to see Diantha and Ash actually go feral and kill like ninety percent of all league officials.

Another growl, “I’m on my way.”

Leon made a happy griffin noise, wings fluttering a little around the two boys in his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Raihan gave a heavy sigh, presumably getting up out of bed, “I’ll be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Thank you Rai!” Leon sighed happily before ending the call. Putting his phone back in his pocket before wrapping his arms around Gou’s back again, giving the boys a squeeze and tucking his head down into Ash’s head only to jerk back a little and blink in shock. “Damn your ears are cold.”

“No shit.” Ash weakly hissed. “We already established that.” He buried his face to try and not to let out a muffled choke as Leon started to massage his ears. Trying to get them as warm as he could.

———

“We’re back!” Wallace yelled out from the hallway, “and we brought a friend!”

Gardevoir teleported into the room and clicked her own Poké ball that Ash had left on the kitchen counter. The physic Pokémon not wanting to be out in the cold any longer and returned to her, presumably, heated Poké ball.

A much taller dude came sliding down the hall and nearly crashed into the doorway, ducking his head and coming into the room. He towered over everyone and his larger dragon wings were tucked close to his back unlike his large tail that dragged behind him.

“Leon.” He grunted.

“Raihan!” Leon beamed before letting go of the two boys and pushing them over to the dragon anthro, “Ash, Gou? This is Raihan! He’ll warm you guys up in no time. I usually use him as a heater as well when it gets super cold here in Galar.”

“Which is like ninety percent of the time.” Raihan pokes his slightly split tongue out at the Galar Champion who did the same before turning back and going over to Lance and Alder. The rhino more the happily greeting the griffin.

Ash squeaked when one of Raihans arms reached out and wrapped around his waist. He looked back over to the dragon who gave him a once over.

“Well aren’t you a cutie.” He purred. Dragging Ash closer until he was tucked against his chest.

Gou was given the same treatment. both of their face’s were burning red, but it wasn’t because of the nice warmth that was radiating from Raihan’s body. Next thing they knew Raihan was sitting down, dragging them as well until they were both settled on both his legs.

“Better?” Raihan asked.

“So much better,” Gou answered, eyeing Ash who just tilted his face more into Raihans warm sweater instead since his face was a blushing mess more so then Gou’s, “thank you Raihan.”

Raihan only hummed. Eyeing Ash’s tail that was still trashing and hitting his arm. “You good there kitten?”

“Uh-hu!” Ash squeaked out. Turning quickly to nab his tail and tuck it close to his chest to keep it from moving anymore. Ash felt so embarrassed as he hid his face more in Raihans, extremely toned, chest.

“Ash is just super tired and cranky,” Gou grumbled, from what Ash could see he was nearly asleep which hes fucking lucky, “he kept getting piles of rain or water dropped on to him, so Ash’s been cold since the moment we left for the airport.”

Gou wasn’t wrong. Ash had somehow continually been getting splashed with water. Be it from trees or accidentally bumping into someone with an open water bottle, Ash was drenched or at least damp most of the day. It’s why he was so cranky when they got to the hotel, Ash was actually looking forward to going out on a sight seeing trip after dropping their luggage off at the hotel, but all he could think about was changing into some nice warm pajamas and sleeping until Lance inevitably knocked on his door to check up on him and Gou.

“Poor kitten,” Raihan rumbled low in his throat, leaning more into Ash and the smaller could feel the dragons muscles shifting under his clothes, “todays just not your day is it?”

“You and Leon are making it better.” Ash said without really thinking. Making the mistake to look up into Raihans extremely pigmented blue eyes, which widened and the pupils dilated.

“Oh really,” The dragon purred out. Leaning down more into Ash’s face. “how so?”

“Leon tried keeping us,” he nodded a little to Gou who was no completely asleep, tail tucked into his lap and looked peaceful, “warm and he called you here to help. By the way thank you for coming, Diantha maybe a pain in the ass while cold but I can guarantee I’m much worse.”

“I’d like to see that.” Raihan sayed. Tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at Ash who blinked wide eyed up at him.

“See what?” Ash cursed silently as his voice cracked a little.

“You all wild up,” Raihan gave him a little heated look, “bet you look hot while mad.”

Ash couldn’t help but snort a little. “I look like a fluffy ball of murder while mad, which is no way hot to see.”

“To each their own.” Raihan shrugged his shoulders and flinched the tiniest amount Ash has seen a person do when Gou made a sleepy whining noise before settling back down.

“So it’s gonna be like this for most of the night?” Diantha’s irritated growl echoed through the open room. Eyeing everyone that was standing around her and Cynthia in their pillow mountain.

“Most likely.” Wallace huffed. Wings starting to shake at the tiniest bit. “It’s only really our level and half of the Delta level, so most of the current gym leaders staying here tonight are good with bunking up with one another even more.”

“So we’re just stuck with the cold?” Ash asked. Reaching up for one of his numb ears and rubbing his pads into them, trying to stop them from aching so much.

“Again,” Wallace sighed, giving Ash an apologetic and worrying look, “most likely.”

Ash made a loud whining noise and curled up tighter. Shoving his face into Raihan’s hot skin of his neck that was open and uncovered from his sweater. The dragon hissed in shock and flinched away a little from Ash’s cold face.

“Sorry.” Ash muttered before pulling his face back down and rubbing it into Raihan’s, much less, warm sweater.

“S’okay,” Raihan was quick to answer, Tucking Ash and Gou more into his chest and even bent his head down to rub his face into Ash hair and ears, “don’t mind it at all, Kitten.”

Ash only hummed. Tilting into Raihan’s down right nuzzling fest and rubbing his own cheeks back against Raihan. Tonight’s gonna fucking suck but at least it’s not gonna be to bad.

Though Ash does wish he had taken a hot shower before throwing pajama’s on and sliding into that cold torture of a bed.

#wolfy writes #ash ketchum #gym leader raihan #champion leon #champion lance #champion diantha #champion alder #champion cynthia #gou #champion wallace #steven stone #dawn #pikachu #rose #oleana #not your average calico!au

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poptod · 5 years ago

Text

The Dead Heed No Lies (Ch. 3)

Description: Things get started.

Notes: I forgot to mention this but there are certain things I took the liberty of defining about you, but it shouldn’t disturb your reading. Here they are: you don’t have a gender, you’re Jewish (not really religiously though), and you’re vegetarian. Word Count: 2.8k

Chapter Three: Anubis’ Crime

On a bright, sunny day like any other in New York, you wandered through the streets. This day was like any other, as you had gotten up near dawn, eaten a healthy vegetarian breakfast, and wandered through the city for a while. You needn’t go to the florist, as you had already gone that week to replace the molted flowers from last week, so you stopped for a drink at a local coffee shop.

The only thing that was any different about this day was a terrible, nagging feeling you had that something awful had, or would, occur. You wondered, in your own negative mindset, if some people had felt this during the morning of 9/11. You hoped this terrible feeling wasn’t an omen of something so cruel.

During midday you took your nap, tossing and turning in bed, embroiled in the conflict of your heavy mind overthinking this Terrible Feeling. Eventually, tightened into a prison of blankets you fell asleep, a few odd nightmares spotting your otherwise eventless dreams.

“I’ll feel better,” you told yourself after waking up with the same terrible feeling as before, “if I sleep some more.”

That you did, taking three melatonin pills before collapsing once more on your bed, an alarm set for your job just in case you didn’t wake up in time. This time, your sleep was deeper, dark and blank, devoid of thought and movement. The only thing you felt was hot - curled in cloth that overheated your system, boiling your skin off and eating away at your bones.

This time, when you awoke, you found you’d left the heater on too high.

Also, you still had the Terrible Feeling.

You groaned to yourself, flopping back onto your pillow when you looked at the time. You’d awoken three minutes before your alarm, something that would usually delight you but instead made you feel as though you hadn’t slept enough.

“My God,” you said aloud to yourself, your voice hoarse. “I wish I was dead.”

Of course, this was a hyperbole. All you wished was that you didn’t have to get up and go sort through more papers. Even though this was probably your last day sorting through papers (you’d reached the letter ‘Y’ yesterday), you felt dread simply at the thought of having to work.

With a heavy grunt you hoisted yourself out of bed, untangling from the mess you’d gotten yourself into. After a quick shower and a small meal you expected the Terrible Feeling in your gut to go away, but it didn’t lingering on even as you reached the steps of the museum. Sighing deeply you went round the back, entering through the smaller, much less grand steps into the basement full of records.

You sat at the end, pulling out the first Y box, going through and making sure they were in order and still relevant, with all the correct information.

A few minutes later, steps, loud and many resounded upstairs, and you knew the tablet had gone to work. In a few minutes the King would be coming downstairs, perhaps along with Tilly, to try and distract you from your work. Most days, you’d laugh to yourself at the thought. Most people ignored you, not bothering to try and be friends with you. It was a nice change.

Today however, following the path of your Terrible Feeling, your stomach stirred in sickness, leaking out in the form of a light sweat that anxiously painted the palms of your hands.

Maybe I’m just sick, you thought to yourself, flexing your fingers against your palm. Maybe I should just go home.

Thirty minutes had passed until you heard the footsteps of someone coming down. You didn’t turn to greet them, keeping focus on your work despite the sick feeling growing into your chest like insidious weeds overtaking fields of flowers.

No cloak dragged on the floor, but there was the clack of heeled boots.

“Hey Tilly,” you said, your voice noticeably weaker than usual.

“Hi… how’re you feeling?” She asked, sounding just as bad as you.

“Not great. Had a weird feeling all day,” you told her, sighing. She stood beside you, leaning against the wall.

“Same here. Hey, have you seen Ahk down here yet?” She asked, crossing her arms and looking at you with a concerned look.

“Uh, no. Hasn’t visited,” you said, looking up at her.

“Hm. I haven’t seen him. Want to come look with me?”

You paused, your eye twitching involuntarily before you stood.

“Alright,” you shrugged, knowing you’d have time. There was only one Z box and it was small.

Following her the two of you walked up into the brightness of the museum lights, blaring the 80’s music that most all exhibits could agree on. Ever the one better with socialization Tilly asked around, while you left to his exhibit. Ahkmenrah had decided to keep his tablet there, mostly for safety reasons, and considering how much he loathed to part with it, it wouldn’t be surprising to find him there.

Up the stairs you walked, leaving behind the calamity and chaos that eons of history brought. From your vantage point upon the balcony you could see at least three people doing something that would most definitely kill them if they were real people.

People have always been stupid, you laughed to yourself, turning back around to find his room.

You continued this line of thought as you wandered the halls, mostly thinking about the age old graffiti. Sometimes, historians would mistake the words for having religious impact, when most times it was something pornographic or stupid. A metaphor for humanity, really.

Upon entering the room the main difference was blazingly obvious - the centerpiece, hanging in its’ eternal, ancient glory, painted gold in intricate patterns of Egyptian hieroglyphs was so glaringly not there.

Confused, you walked closer, eyebrows furrowed as you took slow steps. The guards towering over you in black majesty paid you little mind - Ahkmenrah had explained to them that they shouldn’t hurt anyone. Still, with such careful, near suspicious steps their eyes watched you, careful to jump at any sign of your treason.

Before you could fully circle round the sarcophagus lying as the centerpiece of the room, you saw a hand on the floor, the rest of the body obscured by the coffin. Your eyes widened, breath picking up as your feet skidded, knees falling to the ground as you fell to see who it was.

The golden robes had fallen in waves around his body, almost ornamenting his unconsciousness. His crown that he wore so adamantly, so much so that you hadn’t ever seen it off of him, was now cast aside, lying a few feet away from him.

Hands only shaking a little you attempted to wake him, feeling your legs go numb till his eyes slowly opened.

“Ahkmenrah! What happened?” You asked immediately, helping him to sit up as he knelt on his knees. He groaned, holding his head in his hands as you assisted him.

“I - the tablet, it’s…”

“Gone, I know, did someone take it?” You asked your queries hurriedly, hoping that if you did so you’d be able to call the police sooner. At that moment, it didn’t occur to you that you’d have to wait till morning either way.

“I saw him, I… I did not think he would show his face to mortals,” he mumbled, voice groggy and unclear as his weight fell into you. You supported him, trying to get him to lift his head.

“Who was it? Ahk,” you put your hand on his cheek, making him look up at you.

“Anubis.”

“I - I’m sorry?”

“Big dog head, hot body,” Ahkmenrah groaned, his head falling back onto your shoulder as he grunted in pain.

“Uh, yeah, no, right,” you fumbled, still holding him against you. Your eyes shifted around the room. As though it’d give you answers, like God would send you a sign.

“Gotta… gotta catch him, he’s got my tablet.”

“I know. Let’s go find your parents, maybe they’ll have an inkling as to what the hell is happening?” You suggested, not waiting for his answer before you pulled yourself to your feet, his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you made your way out of the room and into the hallway.

When you finally found his parents most of the place had realized something was wrong. Apparently, if stories were to be true, the last time Ahkmenrah had been weak was when the tablet was dying.

“Your son says he saw Anubis steal his tablet?” You said immediately, not bothering with the niceties and thinking it wouldn’t bother them either. They glanced at each other, then back at you, their expression unchanging from the shock.

“Yes, I, uh, that makes sense,” his mother stammered, blinking rapidly. Ahkmenrah, no longer leaning against you, quickly added in his own input.

“I need to get it back,” he said, determination written in his tone and face.

“Hold on, you just got a concussion,” you stopped, holding your hands out in front of you.

“(Y/N), I’m dead.”

“That’s half the problem. What are you gonna do if it takes more than a night to find him? It’s almost dawn already! Everyone here is going to fall asleep and never wake up and what are we going to do? Call the police?” You began spiraling, tugging at your hair. “What are they gonna do? Can’t exactly shoot a god, right? Besides, Anubis is practically the Egyptian version of the god of death, you can’t kill death, right?”

“(Y/N)?” His father got your attention, seemingly now more solemn. You looked up, trying to regulate your breathing as you listened. “Shut up,” he said. Frowning, you obeyed.

“My son, you wish to go after it yourself?” Shepseheret asked, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. In an almost meek way he nodded, but his stone cold expression remained.

“There is a way you could stay alive during the day, but it takes getting used to. It’s,” Merenkahre glanced at his wife, “unpleasant. And you’ll need to take someone alive with you.”

“I’ll go with him,” you volunteered yourself. Sure, a week ago you were freaking out about museum exhibits and ranting about how you weren’t ever supposed to be part of a fantastical story, but here you stayed calm. Besides, you were probably the best fit - you knew a lot about Anubis and you were, as needed, alive.

“I’ll explain the… ritual, to you,” his mother said, taking you both aside as the room began to fill with chatter of the events to come.

All in all, when she finished speaking, you sort of understood. She would use a specific paint to paint a symbol onto his forehead. It’d turn him to moveable stone during the day, and at night, he would become flesh and bone again. However, every night, you would need to make a blood sacrifice to repaint the symbol.

The young King did not seem to like that.

“Couldn’t we use the blood of a different creature?”

“It’s easier to use (Y/N)’s. Otherwise you’d have to be killing animals everywhere and you’d leave a blood trail,” his mother said.

“I’m fine with it. I just won’t cut my palm. Most nerve endings are there,” you agreed, remembering a stupid post online about explorers in movies.

“See? The child is fine with it.”

“Mother.”

“Come, I will get you ready,” she said, ignoring her sons’ berating and taking him to the side. You watched in interest as she pulled a purple bottle out of one of the glass cases. Assuming it was the special paint she’d spoke of, you sat down across, paying close attention as she drew the eye of horus upon his forehead.

“Oh, Eye of Horus. That’ll be easy enough I think,” you said when they’d finished. “Why is Anubis stealing the tablet? And now of all times? It’s pretty late in the game to do so.”

“He’s the oldest god of death. I suppose he doesn’t like my family coming alive every night,” Ahkmenrah sighed, standing up once his mother put the paint back.

“Right, but the role was taken over by Osiris, a long time ago. Isn’t Anubis supposed to be with the scales now? Deciding who’s good and bad?”

“Actually he’s the god of embalming,” his mother clarified.

“Also protector of tombs,” Ahkmenrah added.

“I know the stories.”

Osiris took over as Ruler of the Earth, then was killed by his brother Seth, who murdered him by putting him in a coffin, sealing it, and pushing it into the Nile. Osiris’ wife, and sister (you shivered, never one for incest) retrieved his body, but Seth cut up Osiris and scattered him through Egypt. It was Anubis himself, along with Isis and Nepthys who retrieved all of him back, except his penis, which was apparently very important, but either way Anubis wrapped the body up in the first process of embalming.

“It’s a disgusting story but yes, I know it. He’s a lot of things but it doesn’t answer my question, why is he interested now?”

“Probably some god drama made him king of the underworld again,” Ahk rolled his eyes, earning a chiding elbowing from his mother.

“Don’t disrespect them. Still, we need the tablet back. It was a gift from Khonshu.”

“My father says he insisted we never lose it.”

“Let’s go find it then.”

The three of you left back into the larger room, where the exhibits had grown louder, only calmed as Tilly frantically made her way through the crowd.

“The tablet was stolen?!” She asked, panting.

“Yes, we need to go get it, Ahkmenrah will be safe if he stays with me. Anubis stole it and I think I may have an idea as to where he might be going,” you explained quickly.

“You do?” Ahkmenrah asked, obviously impressed.

“Yep, let’s go.” You tugged his arm, pulling him off to the side to pull up a map on your phone.

“These are ley lines. Ancient magnetic lines that connect spiritual sites. There’s a major one in Canada near us, and the distance between the two worlds, ours and Duat, is smaller there. I think Anubis needs to go there. Thank God he doesn’t have wings, so he’s on foot like us, but we need to get your tablet back before he goes to the underworld. I don’t think we’d survive a journey there.”

“Probably not,” he agreed easily.

“We should head out that way then. Anubis can turn into a dog, right?”

“Jackal.”

“Right. He’ll probably want to cut through the woods so we’ll follow that way. Thank god for snow, so he’ll be leaving tracks,” you said, pocketing your phone and turning to him.

“Do you think we should take Sacagawea along?”

You paused, ready to leave at a moments notice but stopped by his suggestion. It’d be smart, certainly, but that’d also mean more blood from you. Still… she was the best tracker in the whole museum and you had no idea what you were doing.

“Ask. I’ll get some more information from your parents,” you said, and he nodded, the two of you splitting off from your space next to the wall.

Finding his parents, they immediately pulled you aside before you could ask any questions.

“Ahkmenrah will turn to stone whence the day arrives. Immoveable stone,” Merenkahre said to you, his eyes stern.

“Shouldn’t you tell him that?”

“I believe it’s best not to. Remind him that it’s natural and after a few days he should be able to move his full body.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Okay.”

A few minutes and he found you again, Sacagawea by his side. A few minutes more, she had the symbol upon the back of her hand. In just one more minute, the three of you had bid your good byes, and though Tilly had requested to come with, she rescinded her request when you explained the trek you had to make.

As you left the doors, reality sunk into you - you didn’t exactly have the right supplies for a journey in the middle of winter. You had a jacket, but it wasn’t a winter jacket, and what were you going to eat? Then you patted the cellphone in your pocket, remembering there were charging stations at every Starbucks, and that you had Apple pay. How modernly convenient.

The King had a stern yet worried look on his face as Sacagawea led you, and in a moment of comfort, you held his hand, squeezing once to assure him it’d be alright.

“We’ll get it back,” you told him quietly as she led you down alleyways and backstreets. His eyes glanced to you, burning with determination.

“I know.”

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #gender neutral reader

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themarchblessing · 5 years ago

Text

Special Addition: Blu Moon

SABRINA

Gripping the stair railing I debated internally on whether or not I should hold onto my dress so I don’t fall or the hands of my children. Not wanting to end up in the hospital sooner than expected I pulled up my dress and moved the kids in front of me. I followed Izaiah and Elle down the stairs being so cautious to take my time. Once the three of us reached the ground level I resumed my place next to the kids, leading them outside. Elle has been on one all day long and I have yet to find out why. I’m thinking she’s starting to get anxious about Corey’s return. With him being away on business, making time for myself with two young children has been just about impossible.

I watched and huffed out of frustration as Elle let go of her brother’s hand, clinging to my arm.

“Hold his hand Ellena, right now.” I ordered. She followed my advice walking in between myself and Izaiah with a frown on her face. “Fix your face girl.” I huffed again, not wanting to come off bitchy but this baby is pressing into my lower back.

“Mama, I’m so hungry.” Elle complained. “When is daddy coming back? Tomorrow, yes?” She quizzed me. The happy tone in her voice mimicked the expression on her face as she mentioned her father.

“Yes, daddy will be home tomorrow morning.” I sighed. Izaiah distracted Elle with conversation followed by a round of eye spy. With his assistance on calming Ellena down we made it to my car. “Come here Elle..” Scooping her up off the ground I situated her in her car seat. “Zay, hand me that bag please.” Pointing to the small pouch below Izaiah’s feet I held my hand out for him to place it in my possession.

“Es eso para papa?” He smirked.

I nodded and laughed alongside him. “Si, para tu padre.” Corey is constantly finding new hiding places in my car and the house for his guns. Finding his weapons in various locations never fails to make my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Mom, what is that? Me das?” Ellena questioned with the utmost curiosity.

Shaking my head promptly I adjusted her seatbelt and stood up straight. “No missy you cannot hold this. This is not a toy.” Closing the back door I hobbled to the driver side of the car, halting as I opened the door. Repeatedly I counted my breaths, slowly making an advance to get behind the wheel.

Once I got the engine going I made a phone call, praying that Corey will answer. I spoke to him briefly and then turned my phone over to Ellena so she could hear her dad’s voice. They talked most of the ride home. I had to tell her three times to let Izaiah get some time on the phone as well. Whatever Corey said to our daughter worked magic on her attitude and behavior. That is until she became hungry again.

“Mommy! Tengo hambre! Quiero rellenos y sopa de lentejas. Mommy!” She hollered in the midst of giggling.

Throwing my head back on the couch I rubbed my palm over my belly, listening to Corey cackle in my ear.

“My sweet baby. She misses me.” Corey continues to chuckle.

“Please, please tell me you’re coming home in the morning for sure. I’m close to shutting down and I don’t know how much more I can take. She’s been up and down all day. Real high and real low.” Gripping my shirt I scrunched the fabric under my breasts, exposing all of my stomach.

“Yes ma’am. First thing.” He confirmed.

“Best news I’ve heard all day. She’s literally driving me insane. Are you sure you’ll be back when you said? What if your flight is delayed and you’re not here before the shower starts? You’re supposed to be here before everyone else to help me get the kids ready.” The slightest inkling that Corey will be late for this baby shower is starting to stress me out.

We’ve been planning this for months and I will have a meltdown if guests arrive before Corey.

“I thought we agreed on you not over exaggerating? Hm?”

“Si, pero this is different. I’m anxious, Corey. Just don’t forget to get up on time.”

“Estare allí mi amor. Get some rest after you eat and don’t be a bruja to my little girl.” He chuckled deeply.

Scoffing at his choice of word I hung up the phone and stood up from the couch. Pulling my shirt down over my stomach I went looking for my kids. “Ellena?” I called out to her. My phone rang but instead of answering I gave it to Elle.

She glanced at the screen and her eyes lit up. Without hesitation she answered the incoming FaceTime with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi daddy, what are you doing? Where is your shirt?” Being naturally inquisitive runs in this family. My mom loves to make fun of how many questions Elle and Izaiah ask when they don’t know or are unsure of something.

“If it isn't my favorite girl in all the land. I just took a shower that’s why I don’t have a shirt on. How are you doing, my love?”

Seeing them talk switched my mood just that quick. I became hungry all of a sudden, Izaiah started to complain about food as well so I got started on Elena’s request. I hope that Corey has more magical words to say to her so that I can get through this final night without him minus the headache.

———- ———

*The following afternoon*

“I told you I would be back in time. I think I deserve an apology for you thinking I’d be late.”

A sultry voice that matches my husband spooked me even though I saw him from the corner of my eye. Only because I have minimal steps left until my makeup is done, I freed my hands to greet my man. With my arms wrapped around him we embraced one another and exchanged affection.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you. How was your flight?” Pulling back I took a good look at him head to toe realizing he got work done. “Your entire leg? I thought you said after the baby is here you’d start getting tattooed again. You just couldn’t wait huh?” I teased.

Corey shook his head, showcased his new ink job, wowing me to the core. “You like it? Six hours in the chair for this one.”

“Of course I like it but you left a space here..that looks funny..” I pointed out. I’m far too pregnant to be bending or kneeling so Corey helped out by sitting on the edge of the bed and propping his leg up. Examining closely I recognized his leg piece is all related to his life and the timeline of it. “Is that the scan of my heart that I got done when I found out I was pregnant?”

“Yes ma’am. I wanted a piece of you and the kids on my body forever. Once the baby is here I’ll be able to figure out what to get for him or her. That’s what the empty space is for.” Corey began explaining to me the meaning behind each of his new tattoos just as Izaiah walked into the room. Elle was dragging behind with her dress stained, her shoes unbuckled and her hair all over the place.

Throwing my hands up I sped to the bathroom to finish getting ready. In silence Corey took Elle down to her room to get her cleaned up for the second time.

Ellena had to be put down for a nap before the baby shower began. Corey was definitely on Elle duty in order to get her into a ready to sleep mood. However, I had no choice but to step in and let my little girl get a sample of what she’s forgotten all about to help really knock her out. Breast milk. My sweet nena used to fall into a deep sleep after being fed. It didn’t matter where we were. As long as she had her milk, she got more than the proper amount of rest that young children need. I was so anxious that even the little bit of milk she had would revert her to the past. She proved me wrong. She’s forgotten all about my breast milk.

Coming out of the bathroom, I bumped into my uncle who I’ve been waiting for to arrive for hours now. My heart rate sped up and drastically slowed the longer we exchanged looks.

“My Sabrina, you look beautiful as always.” He smiled at me gently.

Outstretching my arms I walked toward him. Hugging the closest human being to my father aside from my mother is bringing forth so many emotions. I miss my dad more than ever right now.

“You smell just like him. I’m really happy that you made it.” Backing up to look him in the eye I rubbed my eyes dry. “I’m sorry, I said I wouldn’t cry but I can’t help it.”

“You should not be apologizing for missing your father, Lori. You know that he's with you always. How are you feeling? How’s pregnancy?” He asked.

Breathing softly I nodded and continued to weep. “It’s so wonderful. I’m exhausted but thrilled to find out what we’re having. Was your flight alright?” He and I went back and forth with questions until the main event came upon us.

I went to join Corey behind the box wrapped in a pearl color wrapping paper. The sun is shining, the flowers in our yard are in full bloom and the energy around me is washing away my anxiety about the minutes to come.

“It’s been a long time coming. Are you sure you’re ready? You can always change your mind.” Corey cupped the nape of my neck easily, opening that door of option two for me.

I took a slow, controlled breath and denied his invitation. “I really want to know. It’s better for us both and I’m ready. At first I was fine with waiting but I’m ready now.”

We both carried on with conversation until my uncle, our parents and Ravyn started the countdown. The moment Corey and I have been holding out for is finally here since the day we were able to find out the sex of this baby. It was Corey’s idea to wait until the birth but I’m dying to know the gender! The count down from ten to one was fast. I heard the numbers in slow motion but the second he and I cut the gigantic metallic ribbon off of the box, bluebirds flew in the air. They swarmed over us followed by blush pink glitter and rose petals.

Again, someone included an element to remind me of my dad. Bluebirds were his favorite of the bird species. He had four as pets before I came along and two after I was born. Rather than getting emotional with tears, I felt my cheeks and jaws beginning to hurt from all the smiling. We’re having another little girl. Corey gets another princess to spoil until we’re no longer here and I can’t express with words how happy I am right now.

“Damn, I’m in shock. We’re having another baby girl.” I heard Corey speak. We simultaneously turned to look at each and that’s when I began to cry. I embraced him just as he embraced me. Together we exchanged our feelings on the conclusive evidence that we’re having one more girl. “I’ve been saying for months how I just knew we’d have another one of you. I knew it and to think I began doubting my own instincts. Thank you for making me a father, Lori.” His lips against my head filled me with butterflies and good thoughts on what’s to come.

——— ——-

“Happy Father’s Day, my love.” I haven’t stopped smiling since the moment we found out the sex of this baby. The rest of the party was great. Our friends and family had so much love to share and blessings to wish over us. Izaiah was really happy to have family around that we haven’t seen lately to celebrate this day with us. Seeing him and Ellena interact with their aunts, uncles, and cousins was heartwarming for both Corey and myself.

“No, thank you. A million times over do I mean that. I wouldn’t be a father if it weren’t for me switching old boy’s sperm with mine. What was his name again?” He joked.

“It’s sad that you’re making jokes but it’s hilarious that you genuinely forgot. It’s not like it matters anyhow.” Putting the top back on the lotion he began unraveling the braid in my hair.

He drew circles on my scalp with the pads of his fingers. The act drew up sounds of relief and brought my shoulders back to level position. Suddenly Corey stood up and walked around the room, analyzing.

“Que paso?” I spoke up.

“Nothing, I’m just in awe. I really don’t think you understand how different our lives are thanks to my idiocy some time ago. Aside from the fact that I was drunk, I was a little jealous of who you were initially starting a family with.” Corey held out his hand to help me stand.

“This is news to me.” I’m stunned at his confession.

He led the way to the nursery, which is far from finished, and turned the lights up.

“I couldn’t possibly imagine not being there, the night of your thirtieth birthday and intercepting your initial plans and ending up here.” Toying with the decor and finally sitting in the plush rocking chair, he invited me into his lap. In silence we mirrored each other’s actions.

“You still like the name Leija?” I asked him, tenderly caressing the nape of his warm neck.

He turned to me and graced my question with a genuine smile of acceptance. “More so now then when you brought it up to begin with. I’m not going through with that procedure but I do agree that three is enough for me. If that’s okay with you.” His addition of the last remark tickled me pink.

“That’s okay baby. Three is good and now we’ll have our five. Between Ellena and Zay, I think we’re set for life.” I laughed. Peering down at my beyond visible belly I ran my free hand all over it. “And this angelita is the cherry on top. I have a gut feeling that she’ll just like Ellena. Full of life, sass, character and much more.”

Corey agreed, drawing me in closer to lay against me. “I love you Sabrina, always and forever.”

Corey and I have reached the ultimate peak in our lives. We have the house, nuestra familia, our success and peace of mind. I can’t wait to see what joy and excitement our new baby girl will bring us.

#the march blessing

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soulangel · 5 years ago

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Fox in the House- Chapter 2

Summary: At finally seeing the home she would be staying at, she’s surprised at how content she’s already feeling even though she’s only known them a few hours. She also gets to meet everyone she’s living with and is a lot less scared of them now that she knows their faces. Maybe they’ll let her sniff out their scents next.

Group: Oneus x hybrid!character

Genre: Basic domestic life, tiny amount of angst

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Not too much wrong in this chapter except a very anxious hybrid in a new environment. There are a couple swear words close to the beginning of the chapter but other than that it’s a safe read.

A/N: If anyone would like to be tagged in this story so you get notified when this story uploads, please let me know and I’ll add you to a list. Same with anything else you are interested in reading!

Prev x Masterlist x Next

The moment the three stepped into the house, the fox curled her tail around her waist and flattened her ears, teeth bared as she scented the area. Her ears were twitching every which was as she heard all the sounds coming throughout the dorm. People stepping down the hallway, someone playing a video game, someone singing, and a few people grunting while moving objects around. “I know it’s not much and there’s a lot going on for you right now. Do you want me to show you to your room?” The new person she’d met at the store offered gently with a kind smile.

She sized him up with narrowed eyes, tail swishing and swirling around her arm as she debated how this interaction could go. She finally decided after a couple moments that she’d allow him to lead her down the hallway seeing as she wasn’t 100% comfortable walking a dark area by herself yet, even if she could see better than they could. “Sure...that would be nice, thanks.” She mumbled softly, eyes bouncing around the room afterward so she wouldn’t have to look at him more than she had to.

He then started leading her down the small hallway until he stopped before the second door on the right, opening the door just a little bit for her. She waited a second to see what he was going to do before she slowly moved through the doorway, tail swishing in curiosity. When she was finally in the room fully, the guy opened the door all the way and stepped into the room before staying against the wall to make sure she didn’t feel trapped. “How do you like it? Hwanwoong did all the decorating for you, saying something about a bunny-hybrid telling him what you like?” He said, tilting his head in confusion for the moment as he waited for her to respond to him.

She barely twitched her ear in his direction since she was focusing on the little nook-like bed Hwanwoong had made for her. He’d also made sure to make her curtains darker so if she wanted to close them, it would feel like a dark den for comfort. Across from her bed-nook was a white oak dresser with what looked like little trinkets the members had found that they thought she’d appreciate. She stepped closer to see what they were before sniffing at them, finding multiple scents on them. ‘Either this stuff is their personal belongings they want to give to me, or they kept this stuff around for a while before handing them over. I wonder whose is whose.’ She thought before stepping away from the dresser.

She already was aware that she had no clothes to put in the drawers or her closet, so she instead went straight to the doorway with a small, “where’s the bathroom?” given to the guy.

He gave her a gentle smile and lead her down the hall to the third door on the left, moving to the other side of the door to give her access. “I know you don’t have any clothes right now, so if you’d like, you can borrow some of mine while we clean yours?” He offered, seeing the frown on her face when she realized the predicament he brought to light.

She finally stared up at him for the first time since she got to the dorm and he tried his hardest to hold back the gasp while staring into her golden eyes. “I don’t want to impose anymore than I already have. However I am able to help you is supposed to be my only task. I don’t want to cause you anymore trouble.” She replied monotonously, keeping as much of her frustration out of her voice as possible.

He sighed and shook his head. “You’re not here to do our bidding unless you want to. You’re here to be free, or at least more free than you were in that place. Also because Hwanwoong really wants a cuddle buddy.” He mumbled, looking to the ground so he wouldn’t be caught in her heated stare; unfortunately he could still feel the intensity of it on his face.

Finally she nodded her head the slightest inkling. “Thank you.” She whispered, disappearing into the bathroom after that to start taking her shower.

xXx

When she was cleaned and able to change into the clothes the guy had given her, she finally was able to feel just how dirty she’d been beforehand. In her defense though, Hojoon never really gave any of the hybrids a chance to clean themselves unless it was adoption day. And because she was on his shitlist, he didn’t care about how well she preened for the group, if at all. She really did not like that asshole…

Once she was in the living room, she took in a deep breath and allowed her senses to be momentarily overwhelmed with the scents throughout the house. One was familiar to her since it was Hwanwoong’s, the only one she’d really been in close contact with. Then there was the one she was with today whose clothes matched some of the scents; she’d have to get his name later. And then the rest were a little lost on her. She could faintly pinpoint one from when he was in the adoption center setting up the paperwork but didn’t know for certain. All she knew was the first scent she could recognize seemed to calm her down just the tiniest bit due to the familiarity of it. ‘Hmmm, where did everyone go?’ She wondered while looking around the room, noting the scents were fairly old compared to when she first walked through.

She was about to check their rooms when a note caught her attention on the coffee table by the couch:

“Don’t worry about being by yourself, Hwanwoong was saying it would probably be a good thing to leave you alone for now so you can look around without feeling pressured. But if you feel like you can’t be alone or you’re not comfortable in the place use the phone to get ahold of one of us. We’ll be there as soon as we can to help okay? Don’t worry about anything in the dorm room, and the remote for the tv is right next to this piece of paper if you want to watch something. Have fun, and we’ll see you tonight after practice!

Your Boys”

She frowned at the note and sighed. She was seeing his name pop up a lot….from the guy who helped her, to the 3 times he’d tried talking to her, even his scent when she took a moment to look around. It was like he was trying to fog her brain while “helping” her feel better. “This is so weird.” She grumbled to herself as she glanced at the remote, wondering if she should watch something on the television.

Deciding against it, she went back to the room she was showed by the one guy saying it was hers...she should really get all their names so they’re not all just “the guys.” That would definitely be a good idea. ‘Maybe a nap will help me feel better.’ She thought while crawling into her nook and curling herself up into a tiny ball, hiding her face with her tail and then wrapping the blanket over herself in her way of protecting herself. ‘Just for a little bit.’

xXx

“Rosy we’re home!” Hwanwoong’s voice rang through the dorm.

She stirred and felt her eyes moving around behind her eyelids, her ears twitching in response to the movement going on outside her bedroom. She had a feeling that...that word he used was to be for her, but she didn’t want to respond to it until she knew for certain that was what they wanted to call her. As much as she disliked the name. Just as she was thinking about that, someone knocked on the door and poked their head in. “Rosy? Are you in here?” The familiar voice of the other guy who helped her spoke out.

She barely moved in her nook and flicked her tail up over her face to hide herself as much as possible. Unfortunately, it looked like he caught the movement and looked over at her nook with a small smile. “Hey, did we wake you? I’m sorry.” He said gently, opening the door wider for his body to slide into the room.

She slowly sat up from her spot and stretched her arms out in front of her, still mildly asleep. She then blinked a few times to see clearly and looked up at the person standing in the middle of her room. “Wha time is it?” She mumbled before yawning a tiny bit, rubbing her eyes.

He smiled while watching the cute little actions of hers, watching her in amusement as she slowly found her bearings and was able to stand from her bedding, tail swishing slowly behind her. Without meaning to he reached a hand out toward her ear and gently pinched it between his fingers, rubbing it as gently as he could. She closed her eyes in content and started purring faintly at the feeling, relishing in the softness of his fingers before someone else knocked on her door, ruining the moment between the two. Once the spell between them was broken, she stepped away quickly and wrapped her tail around herself as a safety blanket of sorts, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth and her ears flattened against her head.

Hwanwoong stuck his head in and looked between the two with a bright grin until he saw the way she cowered, as if reprimanded somehow. “Hyung what happened? Did you hurt her?” He asked with a frown, stepping into the room and waking towards the poor little fox trying her hardest to shy away from them both.

He pouted the further away she got until she was at the opposite corner of the room staring at the two with her tail still wrapped around her, ears still flattened, and her eyes darting around her in fear. “Hey Rosy, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you okay? You can trust us.” Hwanwoong said gently, holding a hand out for her to take so she wouldn’t have to feel so alone and scared.

She pushed herself further into the wall and shook her head, teeth bared in defense. “P-Please don’t...stay back…” She whispered, biting her lip while turning her head away.

Hwanwoong immediately stopped his advance toward her and stepped back to where his groupmate was at. “Uh, I think we should leave….let’s give her some privacy.” He said softly, leading the way out of the room.

She hesitantly took a step forward just as the door closed, and bit her lip softly, frowning to herself once she understood the unknown feeling she had was the mild discomfort of denying those two her attention. ‘I don’t understand. Are they trying to use me, or are they sincere in wanting me around just to be around?’ She wondered in her mind, tapping a finger to her chin in thought.

She quietly opened the door without a second thought and looked around, sniffing out the scents of everyone in the dorm room definitely staying in one area. She took a deep breath, wrapped her tail around her for security, kept her ears trained upward and twitching toward every little sound, and then took the few steps out to meet everyone officially. She rubbed her arm with her opposite hand and tentatively and gave a small head nod to the group in front of her. “H-Hello...I’m h-here to serve yo-you.” She mumbled out, immediately ducking her head back down toward the ground once she finished saying what she needed.

Hwanwoong gave her an encouraging smile and stepped closer to her. “Welcome home! My name is Hwanwoong. The one who helped me pick you up today is named Youngjo, or Ravn is his stage name if you’d prefer.” He said, pointing to the guy giving her a small and happy smile with a wave; the one who smelt like the clothes she was wearing.

Hwanwoong then motioned to the person beside him. “This guy with the black hair is named Seoho. He’s the one that was with me when we first went to sign the paperwork. He was the one that said we should pick you over anyone else in the shelter. Because we saw what was happening-” “Hwanwoong! You’re scaring her.” Ravn chided, motioning to her shivering frame, her tail swishing up to brush against her nose as she tried hiding her face in the bushy end of her tail where the pure white tip flicked against her forehead.

Hwanwoong frowned and rested a hand on her arm, immediately garnering a hiss in response to touching her. He pulled his hand away and then went back to talking as if what he was saying before wasn’t mentioned. “Uh, beside Seoho is Xion, or Dongju. He’s the youngest of us but you might get along with him well.” He continued on, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t actually mean his words.

She watched him as he continued to introduce everyone and couldn’t help the small smile on her face which was still hidden behind her tail. She wasn’t ready to reveal herself just yet, but if the way Hwanwoong was talking was any indication, she was truly safe for the first time since Hojoon showed up and ruined her life. Maybe, just maybe, these guys could help her. ‘Can they really help?’ She asked herself as Hwanwoong continued on for a couple more minutes until Ravn again hushed him from speaking too much and overwhelming her.

While she was lost in thought, Xion had walked up to her hesitantly and stopped in front of her, holding a hand out. “You don’t have to speak or do anything if you don’t want to, but it’s nice to finally meet you. Hwanwoong hasn’t stopped talking about you and how cool you are. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, do you have powers like they say hybrids do?” He rambled, clamping down on his lip when he finished to see if she’d say anything.

She awkwardly took his hand and only nodded her head, making sure not to say anything as he watched her, wondering what it could’ve meant that she was getting at. She glanced around the group to see them all doing their own thing except one person who was watching in mild interest and concern and then turned back to Xion, giving him a small wink. Afterward, she tucked her tail into her hands and started on her own little strut back to her room, smiling a little to herself at how genuine he and Hwanwoong seemed.

Just as she was about to close the door to her bedroom to go back to her nap, someone pressed on the door and gave her a small smile. “Hey uh, here are your clothes from earlier. Though if you don’t want them anymore we can always take you shopping for something you’d actually like. Also there was something I wanted to speak to you about before turning in, if you’re okay with talking at the moment?” Ravn had wondered, handing her the clothes before staring into her golden eyes.

Before he could get lost in the color of her eyes, she turned away from the door and allowed him into the room quickly, setting her clothes in the dresser drawers she preferred so as to start her organization process with her tiny amount of belongings. When she was done with that, she turned around to face him and gave him a nod to start speaking his mind. “If you weren’t able to hear him earlier, Hwanwoong was starting to call you something; Rosy. Are you alright with that name?” He asked her gently, watching as she mulled over the name and then gave a small grimace.

She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out adorably and he couldn’t help chuckling softly at her. “Not a good name huh? How about this; until you decide what you want to be called, we’ll stick with that. When you come up with something, give the word and we’ll start calling you that, okay?” He offered, watching as she nodded her head with a tiny sigh.

He had put his hand on the doorknob when she took a step toward him, reaching a hand out to catch his attention. He turned his head to look at her and she gave a grimace of a smile. “C-Can we go shopping sometime soon?” She asked, mentally slapping a hand to her forehead for somehow skipping over the simple ‘thank you’ she wanted to push out instead.

He grinned and nodded his head vigorously. “Y-Yeah of course! We can go tomorrow if you’d like.” He replied quickly, happiness level rising exponentially at the surprised but happy gleam in her eye.

Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

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foxtophat · 5 years ago

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ugh my grammar checker is on the fritz so sorry if i fucked up something somewhere

ANYWAY HEY HOWDY HI guys how are you? boy it’s been two weeks already huh? time flies when you’re on island time i guess. SO HERE IS TODAY’S CHAPTER, it’s about john and nick dealing with their emotions, also it’s the first time where we officially touch actual factual canon!!! which is just crazy, my buds, absolutely nutso

i don’t have a lot to say today, i’m kind of tired and i’m dreading going to take my dog for a walk because nobody in this neighborhood understands that they need to stay away from me!!! so i’m gonna keep this simple. i really appreciate all of you, from the humble kudos i recieve from someone who got tired after the first chapter, to the mighty comment chains that you guys indulge me with when i finally get my socially anxious ass up to the task of replying to your beautiful comments. i am so happy that y’all are having fun with me, and i hope that we continue to all have fun together!!!

not much else to say without ruining it, so i’ll just say this: boy howdy, do people just not wear shirts in the apocalypse?

for the non-linkers out there, click the read-more to get straight to this chapter’s text!!! and if you enjoy, consider giving my project a little boost with one of those rebloggy things. you know i love it, and you know i love you!!! be safe buds!!!

Nick and John have spent the last day and a half repairing the fence that once enclosed the whole Rye property. Nick wouldn't bother if it weren't for the return of wildlife after the long winter, but they need to do something to prevent dogs from getting into the yard, and just this week Kim caught a deer trying to get at the planters. The last thing they need is to go another round with mother nature after they just reclaimed their place in her.

It's one of those days where the weather can't make up its mind, alternating between sunshine and shadow as massive clouds roll across the blue sky overhead. It doesn't quite look like rain, but they should be expecting it any day now.

Nick takes a swig from his canteen, waiting on Kim to bring him the box of nails from the hangar. He leans against a newly restored stretch of fencing, which doesn't collapse under his weight.

"Guess we're doing something right," he says to John, who's more interested in finishing the job than talking about it.

Still, he replies, "Don't jinx it." He even gives Nick a distrusting look, as though he's the liability around here.

"It's my fence, I'll jinx whatever I damn well want."

John scoffs. "I have enough bad luck without you making it worse."

"Oh yeah, real bad luck you've got here."

Kim finally returns with the box of nails, which admittedly had been left in a pile with a bunch of other components for later sorting. As she hands them over, she looks around the yard for Carmina.

"I think she's taking a nap," Nick reassures her.

"She's going to be up all night if she is," Kim replies, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe it's time she learns how to mend a fence. She'll probably enjoy it more than doing times-tables all afternoon."

"We still got a ways to go," Nick says. "All four of us might be able to get it done quicker."

With that settled, Kim turns towards the house. "Carmina!" she hollers. She waits a few beats for a response, then sighs wearily. "Alright, I'll be right back."

Nick shrugs away his first inkling of concern as he watches her go. John doesn't seem to care one way or another, ignoring Kim as she heads inside. It's taken a while, but he's finally mastered reattaching the cross-posts, and now he can throw himself into it as mindlessly as digging dirt or hauling trash. Nick used to think he was bad about burying himself in work, but jeeze . Watching John tune out the rest of the world while he works is fascinating, if only in the same way watching Hoarders or My 600 Pound Life had been. The only difference here is that there's no talking head to tell Nick just what John is trying to distract himself from.

"Nick!" Kim shouts, somewhere on the other side of the house. It isn't a scream or cry for help, but there is a deep and worrying concern underlying her voice.

Panic that Nick hadn't realized he had leaps into his throat, a thousand hideous possibilities flying through his mind as he springs to his feet. He forgets all about John, who follows behind him with his hammer still in hand. His mind is too busy coming up with dozens of feral dogs for him to fight off, if not maniacs with guns, or one of those god-awful bears ! He doesn't have time to consider whether or not he's dropped too much of his guard around John when Carmina is being kidnapped by raiders!

Nick turns the corner and sees Kim dragging Carmina across the front yard by her bicep. There's no blood, no screaming, not even a dead wolf in the yard to reveal to Nick the problem. For that, he has to look further, down the dilapidated front drive, where a group of people stands bunched together. They're far enough back that Nick can't see their faces, but the way they mill around worryingly reminds Nick of a pack of angels.

Two people are retreating from the house. Nick only catches their backs, but that's all he needs. It's impossible, after all, to miss the massive, faded black Eden's Gate brand, and while Nick can't read the words carved into the flesh around it, he recognizes them immediately.

Of course Joseph Seed is still wandering around shirtless, even a decade after the apocalypse. He's flanked by some beefy, hoodie-wearing jackass, returning to his flock who are spreading out to eagerly accept him back into the fold, without so much as a backward glance at the house or the people in it. He doesn't even seem to care that he's left his back wide open to them. Like he knows they aren't going to do anything about it.

Nick should shoot him. No, wait, Kim has the rifle, so she should shoot him. Somebody should shoot him!

But they don't. Kim drags Carmina inside while Nick stares helplessly after the retreating cultists, who swallow Joseph's form up in their group before disappearing down the drive the way they came. They're almost out of eyesight before Nick realizes that John's supposed to be standing next to him, but isn't.

He looks around wildly for a second, trying to catch John mid-escape, but the guy has vanished. There's no sign of him rejoining the group leaving their property, but Nick hasn't been paying attention, and John knows the area better now; he could easily be making a loop somewhere out of Nick's sight.

Swearing under his breath, Nick hovers in the doorway, keeping his eyes peeled for the missing Seed even as he desperately wants to check on Carmina. Thankfully, Kim has their daughter cornered by the stairs, so she isn't going anywhere.

Although the initial adrenaline seems to have worn off now that Carmina is safe and Joseph has left, Kim's still jittery and tense, trying and failing to hide it from their increasingly confused daughter.

"What did he do?" she asks Carmina, "Did he hurt you?"

"Who?" Carmina scoffs, "The bearded man? He was just... giving me some food. What's the matter?"

"If he ever shows up here again," Nick snaps, "You come straight to your mom and me, you understand?"

" You said to find food wherever we can!"

"Yeah, well, we don't take anything from him. Not even food!"

Carmina squints so hard that her lips purse. " Why ?"

Nick throws up his hands. He has no idea how he's supposed to explain Joseph to his daughter. He doesn't know how to warn her about bliss-tainted food, or the cult's violence, or all their fucked up brainwashing. He doesn't know how he's supposed to convince her not to go near that maniac when they've been keeping one of his brothers fed and sheltered for half a year!

Kim, lifesaver that she is, takes the burden of explanation onto her shoulders. She turns to Nick, looking to either side before asking him, "Where's John?"

Nick hisses through his teeth in response, unwilling to admit he lost sight of the guy pretty much the second danger presented itself. He should have known better. He shouldn't have let his guard down. If he'd known the problem was going to be Joseph, he would have been more careful!

"Go find him," Kim says. "I'll — let me handle this."

As much as Nick doesn't want to leave the burden to Kim alone, she's right. They can't lose sight of the bigger picture here — and that picture involves Joseph's youngest, most irrational brother, who's probably running through the brush right now to reunite with his stupid, psychopathic family.

Still, before he goes, he points at Carmina and demands, "The next time you see him, you run the other way."

"Go, Nick," Kim tells him, and so he reluctantly does.

Although logically , Nick should be making a beeline for Joseph's last known location, since that's undoubtedly where John has fled, his gut keeps him close to home. Instead of sneaking through the brush to confirm his suspicions, Nick turns to investigate the rest of the property first. He knows he's being naive, and a real idiot, but he needs to make sure John hasn't gone off to find a weapon or alternate escape route. More importantly, he has to prove to himself that John really did flee at the first sign of rescue.

There's no sign of John anywhere in the backyard, leaving the space weirdly empty. After so many months with another person living in their space, there's something strangely lonely about the concept of going back to living on their own. John is a creep, sure, but he had still been better than being on their own. And besides, he'd been getting better as of late — not exactly quality companionship, but at least he's been a little less of a dick and holding conversations for a full two or three sentences longer than usual. Just the other night, he'd managed to eat dinner and say two full words without turning into a morose teenager desperate to go back to his room.

Something crashes inside of the hangar, breaking Nick out of his thoughts. Of course, one paranoia is replaced by another, and Nick approaches the open service door ready for an attack. After all, there aren't a lot of reasons for John to stick around that don't involve beating Nick to death with a length of irrigation pipe.

The hangar is dark and silent. Nick stands in the doorway for a full ten seconds, waiting for some kind of response from the gloom, another noise, John calling out the all-clear... but nothing. He almost calls out, catching himself at the last second and biting his tongue. Since they've organized most everything in here by now, there aren't a lot of places for an ambush, but Nick steps slowly nonetheless, leaning around heaps of scrap metal and carefully edging around wobbly shelves holding boxes of materials. Every time he braces himself for a blow, he winds up wincing at nothing for seconds at a time.

Nick eventually finds John hiding behind the counter in the back of the hangar, pinned down against the wall. Crouched down with his head against his knees and his hands over his neck, he looks braced for another nuclear blast. His teeth audibly grind as Nick steps behind the counter, but if he's got anything to say, he keeps it to himself.

"John?" Nick asks. He's still braced for a fight, but John seems miles away.

He tries again. "John. Hey, John ."

" Yeah ," John hisses through his teeth, hunkered down for the apocalypse, "I hear you."

Neither of them move. Nick, getting increasingly uncomfortable under the tension, leans into his outrage to keep him from stalling out into a panic right alongside John. "What the hell was that?" he exclaims, throwing a hand up. "That psycho brother of yours was supposed to be dead — what, did you all have goddamn contingency plans in case the rest of you fucked up?"

"No," John mutters.

"And you said that goddamn cult shit was over with! Well, I just saw a dozen Peggies lurking around my property with that maniac. What do you have to say about that ? Doesn't seem very dead to me! He's coming around here, trying to pass handouts around, smug sonofabitch —"

John, bracing his feet against the ground, breaks past Nick's whirling anxiety. "Did he see me?" he asks.

"What?" Nick replies, abruptly forgetting about his rant. "I mean... No, I don't think so." He waits a beat for John to relax, to respond, continuing awkwardly when he doesn't. "He didn't look back, I mean."

John exhales, although it does nothing to ease his tension. "Okay," he says, repeating distantly, "Okay."

Nick had been so sure that John was going to try to escape, storming across the yard just a minute ago. But now, looking at the guy now, he's not sure John can even stand up, much less make a break for it. He realizes that despite all his reservations before, he doesn't think John is going anywhere. Not right now, anyway. Whether he wants to be or not, he's stuck here for the foreseeable future.

"You really didn't know, huh?" Nick asks. He lays on the pity thick enough that even he feels like he's being a dick about it, but all he gets is a nonverbal grunt in return. "Well, don't get any ideas," he continues, each word feeling like a step further into uncharted waters. "Just because we've been lax around here doesn't mean you're not still watched twenty-four-seven, you know! I hear you pacing around at night, so I'll know if you try to, uh..."

Nick really doesn't want to keep yelling at the back of John's head. He doesn't really mean to yell at all, letting his motor mouth run for him until he realizes abruptly that nothing he's saying is having an effect.

"John," Nick says again. He wishes he didn't sound as anxious as he does.

" Yes ," John rasps, "I hear you ."

Nick falls back against the counter, resting his weight against it as he watches John's tense form. "You don't even want to look at him?" he asks when the silence gets too uncomfortable.

"No," John mutters.

The next stretch of silence is broken as Kim enters the hangar. Nick wheels around, thankfully able to direct his energy towards someone who will respond to him for once.

"What happened?" he asks her, "Is Carmina alright?"

Kim makes a middling gesture with her hand, coming to a stop at the counter across from Nick. "I tried my best," she says. "I explained that he was the one who — well, that a lot of what happened before was because of him. She's going to need some time to process it, though. It's a lot to think about."

"What's there to think about?" Nick asks incredulously. "It's simple: they're whack-job cultists, and we're not . This is an anti-Peggy household! She isn't going to accept any handouts from Joseph Seed!"

Kim ignores Nick, turning her uncertain frown in John's direction. Honestly, though, Nick is just fine with that, considering that he isn't going to be any help with John's mental spiral.

She chews on her lip as she tries to figure out the best thing to say. "You're going to have to talk to us," she tells him at last. It's not exactly an ultimatum, but there's not a lot of room for arguing.

"I didn't know," John says after the silence stretches out between the three of them. It would be more convincing if he would make some eye-contact, but Nick finds himself believing it anyway. Especially as John miserably continues, "I thought he was dead."

"If there's anything you know that could help us figure out what he's doing here, now would be a great time to tell us," Kim points out, gentler than maybe she even intended. "What's his plan? What is he going to do next?"

John swallows heavily. Nick wonders if he has any loyalty left to his brother, if he has to struggle between revealing information or continuing to live with them the way he has been. Maybe he's just too panicked to think of anything beyond how to get out of this immediate situation. Again, eye contact would really help here, but Nick's not banking on that happening.

"It was so long ago," John mutters finally. "He wanted to start over. Jacob was meant to — to lock the armory. No one was going to need it after the Collapse. He and the faithful would establish New Eden together — without sin, without the unfaithful, and..." He lifts his shoulders, the first move he's made since Nick's found him. "No matter what, they would get it right this time."

"Last thing I heard before everything went nutty, the deputy trashed Jacob's armory," Nick says.

John huffs. At last, he uncurls from his doomsday position, slumping back into the cabinet behind him. "That does sound like them," he says, oddly relieved.

"He gave Carmina food," Kim says. "Should I be worried? It could be contaminated, right?"

"What kind of food?" he asks.

"Bread, I think? Crackers? I don't know exactly."

John shakes his head, scrubbing his eyes briefly. "It wouldn't be Bliss. The heat would kill it."

Kim sighs with relief. "Okay. I'll take your word for it."

Nick almost asks if that's such a good idea, but John doesn't look like he can take another kick lying down right now. "So what are we supposed to do?" he asks instead. "Just let him go rebuild his bullshit back on the island? Reform the cult and retake all the land that we thought he lost when the bombs dropped? Trust him not to have another psychotic breakdown and envision a good reason to get violent again?"

"I don't know," John sighs. He's so pale and tired, as though his panic attack had burned through all of his energy. He works his jaw over some thought or another. At last, he admits to them, "You should shoot him, although I doubt he will ever get close enough again."

Kim blinks, nails scratching the counter-top as she curls her hands defensively. "Are you serious?" she asks.

John takes a deep breath. "Yes," he says. "I am."

"Okay, well, it's something to keep in mind," Kim says, slowly feeling out her own opinion on the matter. "But I don't think that murdering him is going to be the answer. Maybe it was back then, but now... I mean, things change."

"He won't change," John tells her. "He won't."

"That's what everyone thinks about you," Nick points out. He doesn't realize it's a low blow until John bows his head again, leaving him to flounder. "I just mean, you know..."

"I know what you mean," John replies. Nick isn't appreciative of the icy tone, but at least it's put an end to him eating his own foot.

"Right now, we need to keep calm," Kim tells them, disappointedly eying Nick. "I'm going to get on the radio and let Grace know what happened. I'll trust her to tell the right people, so the whole county doesn't turn into a witch-hunt. The last thing we need is for another war to break out and destroy all the progress everyone's made."

"Right. Okay." Nick scuffs his shoe on the dirty concrete. "John, uh. We can keep working on the fence. Unless you... need a break. You can stay here, if you want."

He feels like an ass offering it, but John doesn't let it hang for long. "No," he shakes his head, lifting it again, "I can work."

Nick doesn't think "can" and "should" are the same here, but who is he to judge? All he wants to do right now is focus on something he can get done, rather than sit around speculating. John is probably even more eager to bury himself back into his work, now that he has something he really needs to be distracted from.

Kim doesn't wait for them, taking off for the house at a brisk walk. Nick waits for John to stand, then follows him out of the hangar, setting him to work on the part they'd been working on before. He starts to help, but John seems to have it and he seems to be more interested in spiraling mentally, so Nick sets up a few yards down to work in silence. The entire time, he watches as John goes through the motions, a million miles away as he stops to occasionally stare at the trees not so far away. Nick doesn't know what he's looking for, but even though he wants to ask, he can't bring himself to risk detonating whatever emotional time-bomb is building.

Nick wakes up that night not knowing what roused him. Sleeping for more than a few hours at a time is a miracle most nights, interspersed by long stretches of watching the passage of time from the shadows on the wall. Tonight is no different, and Nick blearily watches the deep, dark blue shadows that fill the room during the deepest hours of the night. He almost doesn't realize that Kim is awake, not until she reaches out to gently shake his shoulder once again.

"What," he groggily whispers, "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," Kim whispers back. "I thought I heard something."

The only thing Nick can hear is the house creaking all around them. He catches a thud from the other room, which usually means John is up and pacing around. It's much more apparent that isn't the case when the second bedroom door slams open, rattling the wall, followed by running footsteps down the hall.

Carmina groans, half-awake as Nick throws off the blankets, leaping out of bed and yanking on his jeans. "Son of a bitch ," he hisses, "That goddamn liar — no, stay here." He waves a hand at Carmina, who groggily waves a hand back, and tells Kim, "Somebody has to keep an eye on her. I'll handle this."

"Nick..."

He doesn't have time to argue about it, so he just bolts from the room and hopes Kim won't follow. He doesn't bother to check the damage to the door, which is hanging wide open against the wall; instead, he chases John's footsteps down the stairs, thundering down them and coming to a brief halt in the living room as he guesses where John has gone next.

The front door is wide open, leaving Nick staring out into the misty dark by himself. It's just thick enough that Nick can't see past the car parked protectively in front of the house, and boy does he not want to go out there. He's exhausted, and the last thing he wants to do is go running around in the mist like it's 2018 all over again.

But he has to, because he can't let John get away. To think he believed that rotten, lying asshole! Of course, the second Nick lets his guard down, the second he decides to believe that John isn't frothing at the mouth to return to his old life, of course that bastard has to go and shove it in his face! He hadn't been able to hold up the act for one night after Joseph reared his goddamn head? What a joke.

It's a wet, cool night, and the mist is thick enough that Nick can't immediately see John as he jogs down the drive, but it doesn't take him long to catch up. John's escape plan seems to come to an abrupt end halfway down the lane as he comes to an unsteady stop on the cracked dirt. Nick picks up the pace, angry enough to jog barefoot after the bastard trying to escape. At this distance, Nick could probably shoot him — that is, if he'd bothered to bring either of the guns with him. If Joseph appears and has his lackeys attack him, he's going to be shit out of luck.

Nick gets within a yard of John and finds himself pulling up short. "What the hell, John!" he exclaims, too tired to notice his voice cracking and far too exhausted to care that he's given up his only chance at a surprise attack. "Are you kidding me with this bullshit, you lying, no-good —"

John whirls around, fist balled up and pulled back like he's actually going to strike at Nick. His face is blotchy and wet, his eyes heavily rimmed with red. "Get the fuck away from me!" he shouts, voice welled with panic, and Nick takes an immediate obliging step backwards. He's run right out into no-man's land without any defenses and he does not want to get caught up in the messy storm of John's emotions if he can help it. He especially doesn't want to get punched in the face for his effort.

As soon as he moves, John drops his fist, run ragged by the burst of adrenaline that got him this far out of the house. He breathes like he's just run twenty miles. His eyes drop to Nick's hands, to his hip where he usually holsters the pistol, up to where the rifle should be strapped to his chest, and then finally he directs his wild eyes to Nick's face.

"What are you doing," he gasps.

"What am I doing," Nick shouts, "What the hell are you doing! You can't just break down the door and go running for your brother whenever you have a — a nightmare, or whatever!"

"You don't now what you're talking about," John hisses.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about! As soon as you find out he's alive, you go running after him! I'm catching you in the act!"

"That's not —!" John's objection is strangled by emotion, pushing past it to shout hoarsely, " He was supposed to be dead ! And now he knows I'm here, he has to, and he's going to come for me and there is nothing I can do about it!" He throws his hands in the air. "Nothing will ever stop him," he exclaims, "And there's no point — there's no fucking point to any of this if he's just going to rip it away from me!"

John is easily twice as strong as Nick, but that doesn't stop Nick from wanting to grab him and shake him until he shuts up. "Maybe you should think about somebody other than yourself, then, you stupid bastard!" He throws a hand back towards the house. "If you go back to Joseph, you're going to ruin our lives . We've been helping you because you said you were done! We promised Grace you were telling the truth! Do you think she's going to forgive us? And how do you expect us to explain it to Carmina when you show up with your goddamn inquisition again? Eventually, you'll come for us, and you'll force Carmina through — and I can't let that happen!"

Nick swallows back the heavy emotion that's threatening to overwhelm him. "Come the hell on, no point ," he finally snaps, voice frayed. "You goddamn asshole."

John frowns heavily. He doesn't have anything to say in response, standing there mutely hopeless for a full thirty seconds before he finally tries to speak. "I didn't think about that," he finally mumbles.

"No, you did not ." Nick sighs, heaving out all of the anger left inside. "Look. You can sit out here all night and wait for Joseph if you want, but you're doing it on your own. I'm not gonna watch you waste your time. If you're coming back inside, let's go."

Nick plays the gambit for what it is, turning his back to John and starting back for the house. He walks slowly, and though at first he thinks John might not follow, he eventually feels John trailing behind him, a ball of tense anxiety right at his back. When they reach the front yard, John comes to a stop, forcing Nick to turn to him.

"I just... need a minute."

"It's way too late for this," Nick groans, "Just — be quiet when you come back upstairs. I don't need Carmina waking up a second time."

John swallows. He looks weirdly desperate as he tries to find something to say, but that's no surprise. He's always perpetually waiting for Nick or Kim to start treating him the way he would treat his own prisoners. "Okay," he rasps, like he might start crying again.

That is Nick's cue, so he darts back inside and upstairs, careful to limit the creaking as much as he can so as to not rouse Carmina. Hopefully she didn't keep Kim up with a bunch of questions about what's going on — those will be fine in the morning, but Kim doesn't get enough sleep as it is.

Kim is still awake, even if Carmina has passed out again. She looks worried, and Nick can't help but wonder how much of their argument had made it through the windows and cracks in the wall.

"Is everything okay?" she asks as he shoves off his jeans and climbs back into bed.

"Who knows," Nick sighs. "He's outside. Don't worry, I locked our door, and the rifle's right here."

"I'm not worried about that," Kim mutters. She brushes some of his hair out of his face as he lies down, following his lead reluctantly. "Next time, let me handle it."

Nick yawns and closes his eyes. "That's crazy talk," he mumbles, although maybe next time John has a meltdown, it would be better for Kim to take care of it. That's a problem for Nick tomorrow, though — right now, his brain is shutting off the lights at a rapid pace, and it's barely a minute later before Nick has completely passed out.

Nick wakes up to the cool, blue-gray light before dawn. It takes a few minutes for Nick to gather the energy to move, but he needs to check and see what happened to John after last night. Hopefully, he went back to bed and Nick will only have to look outside his own door to check on him.

Kim and Carmina are still fast asleep as he carefully climbs out of bed, taking care not to step on the creakiest floorboards as he pulls on his jeans and boots. He's sure that Kim would be glad to do this for him, but she needs to rest and he needs to make sure he didn't put his faith in the wrong Seed brother.

The whole house is quiet. Even the creaks that he can normally hear all night have eased up, leaving Nick's footsteps to echo as he carefully steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

John's door is still hanging open. Nick takes a moment to look in, but John's nowhere to be seen; when he closes the door, the broken lock scrapes against the doorframe and leaves it stuck half in place. It'll be easy enough to repair, and Nick knows just the petulant jackass to fix it.

The stairs creak as Nick heads down into the first floor gloom. There's only enough light to clear the darkest shadows, but once the sun rises and they open up the back porch, it'll be fine. For now, Nick heads out the front door and circles around the the backyard. There's a chance that John' won't be found anywhere, that he's given up and gone off to find his family, but Nick can't bring himself to consider it. After everything John said last night — Nick would never be able to believe the man if he turned out to be a turn-coat.

Thankfully, John isn't hard to find at all. He's taken a seat on the empty planter, watching the spinach heads grow. From his pale, haggard face and the dampness of his shirt, it's clear he stayed out here all night. He doesn't outright acknowledge it as Nick approaches, but there's no mistaking the way his entire body tenses for a fight.

It's way too early for a fight, and honestly Nick doesn't think he's got one in him anyway. "Morning," he offers instead, coming to a stop next to the planter. "Guess you didn't get any sleep."

John exhales. "No," he says, his voice rough. He hesitates another second or two longer. "I needed to think."

"Yeah, I figured."

On the right side of groggy like he is, Nick doesn't hesitate to take a seat next to John. He drags his boot through the dirt for an awkward moment, before finally saying, "I guess you decided to stay."

"I was never going to..." John bites his cheek, taking a breath before continuing in a more subdued tone, "I didn't want to leave. I'm well aware that I'm better off here than I've been anywhere else. It was just... a lapse in clarity." He takes a breath, like he might be gearing up for one of those old-fashioned monologues of his, and Nick finds himself weirdly eager to hear it. Kim's curiosity is definitely rubbing off on him.

"I've had these... dreams," he admits quietly. "For years now. They're... intense. So vivid, so real that I used to... They used to consume all of my time." His hand gestures limply towards the ground, as close as he's ever gotten to talking openly about the bunker. "They happen less, now, but I still recieve... messages, warnings from Joseph. When I thought he was dead, they were easier to ignore. But I never could dismiss them outright. And the one I had last night felt so real. So much so that I suppose I didn't realize when I woke up. All I could think about was what he was saying and I... I panicked."

Nick probably shouldn't ask. This is the most John's spoken in months, and he shouldn't interrupt, but he can't help himself. "What'd he say?" he asks.

John looks over at him, his expression complicated and dark. "That he knew where I was," he says. "That no one would stop him from saving me." He closes his eyes, turning his face away. "But he didn't come," he finishes. "He didn't show. It was just a dream. I know that now. I won't make the same mistake again."

There's nothing Nick can say to that, and nothing that John wants to add, so they sit in silence for a minute or so.

Eventually, John looks back to Nick, checking him over for weapons with much less panic than last night. "What happens now?" he asks.

"Well, we still have half a fence to build," Nick points out. "Plus, we gotta start laying out plans for the electrical wiring, so when we get the generator up and running..."

"I meant with me," John interrupts. "I broke out — I tried to escape. Doesn't that warrant — something ?"

"You're going to have to fix the door," Nick replies. "And you're already doing the heavy lifting around the house. You want me to ground you, or something? No dessert for a week?"

John sighs heavily. "You could come up with better than that."

"I don't want to come up with something better." Nick braces his feet on the dirt, but fails to stand at the last moment, even though he wants nothing more than to propel himself out of this conversation. "Life is already hard enough as it is. I'm not going to add to it just to make you feel better."

It's clear from his furrowed brow that John doesn't get it, but that's okay. Nick's satisfied with the peaceful resolution as it is. John might scowl in confusion at the ground, but at least he isn't demanding Nick take a pound of flesh from him or something. It's too bad that he isn't satisfied by simply apologizing, since that's all Nick needs, but he'll get the hang of it eventually. Lord knows he's gotten the hang of plenty else so far.

Nick pushes himself to his feet. He might as well use this extra time to get everything ready for breakfast, even if it's technically Kim's turn to cook. Still, he stops to stand over John, waffling on whether or not the guy deserves some genuine comfort. He's been open and honest enough — Nick probably should do the same. "Look. I, uh, appreciate you telling me. About the, uh, dreams, and all that. I figured you'd forgotten how to talk about yourself." He hesitates, then suggests, "You might wanna go get some sleep before breakfast. We really do got a lot more fence to go over."

John turns his head, following the broken line of fencing that reaches out clear down to the end of the airstrip. "You're right," he says at last. "I should rest."

"Please tell me you don't need me to escort you all the way upstairs," Nick says, mostly joking as they make their way inside. Letting John walk around freely hasn't ended up in disaster so far, but John still seems surprised that Nick's going to let him continue on alone.

"No," he says, "I have it." He stops on the stairs, watching as Nick forcibly ignores him in favor of getting the kindling and cast iron skillet. When Nick fails to stop him, though, he finally turns and makes his way up. Nick tries not to make it obvious as he waits to hear John walk across the upper hallway to his room, the door scraping audibly against the frame as he opens and then shuts it again. Only then does Nick seriously get to work on starting the morning fire, glad to have some small task to distract him from the thoughts that would otherwise pin him in place — thoughts about loyalty, and about what John said, and about his own dreams that have sometimes seemed too real to be anything less than prophetic. Maybe someday, he'll sort all his feelings out, but for now he can build a fire and hold on to the vague suspicion he has that maybe, just maybe, pulling John out of that bunker had been a good idea after all.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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